I told them if that was their counsel, they must be near unto dogs, for
they were defiling their lips with barking against the Lord God, not
understanding that it is improper to incline, even apparently, before
the false prophet. Then they said,--
"We shall all lose our lives here;" and they were in despair.
God has refused honor to people without birth, and made them more
regardful of temporal profit.
Hearing of this, the præfectus Sukyman became very angry, and determined
to bend me with hunger. He did not wish to kill, or to sell me; for he
himself had long loved me, and could not kill me because of Illa, who,
as I learned afterward, clung to her father's garments when he made
threats against my life, and with great entreaties she restrained him,
in the hope that my mind would change soon, in accord with her wishes.
Then times of great affliction came to me, and the foreseen hour of
suffering struck. But when I thought of my fathers, of the glory and the
untarnished name which they left me, great strength entered my heart. I
thought only of this, not to bring disgrace by anything in captivity to
the order of nobles, the dignity of which I carried there in myself, and
which is the foundation of the Commonwealth. Sukyman, wishing that I
should degrade myself, said,--
"Thou mayest eat with dogs, and take what is thrown to them."
Unwilling to do that, I ate only locusts, which I found on the sea
shore. Frequently also food was placed near me by some unseen hand, in
which I suspected Illa. But later on they watched her, and she could not
continue; other women, Tartar witches, not only had no compassion for
me, but once they so beat me with sticks that my whole body was blue. If
locusts were lacking, I suffered hunger. Sometimes the captives brought
me figs gathered in the Tartar gardens; but when I saw that they
received blows for so doing, I commanded them to stop. They looked at me
with tears, repeating,--
"Our lord, to what has it come with thee!"
Slavery, not only my own, but that of others, became more severe; for
the Tartars flamed up with great hatred against us. One poor Cossack,
named Fedko, was impaled on a stake, where he died on the second day
afterward, repeating, "O Christ! O Christ!" In the night we removed him
from the stake and buried him in the sand by the sea, begging God for a
death equally beautiful. Surely that Father who existed before the ages
ennobled Fedko in heaven, covered him with purple, and raised him to the
highest glory.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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