The Deluge: An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. Vol. 1Sienkiewicz, Henryk
History
The Deluge: An Historical Novel of Poland, Sweden, and Russia. Vol. 1
Sienkiewicz, Henryk
Historical fiction; Poland -- History -- John II Casimir, 1648-1668 -- Fiction
"Nothing is nothing!" said Zagloba; "I prefer that you speak sincerely,
though I was your uncle before Radzivill was your hetman. And do you
know, Roh, what an uncle is?"
"An uncle is an uncle."
"You have calculated very adroitly; but when a man has no father, the
Scriptures say that he must obey his uncle. The power of an uncle is as
that of a father, which it is a sin to resist. For consider even this,
that whoever marries may easily become a father; but in your uncle
flows the same blood as in your mother. I am not in truth the brother
of your mother, but my grandmother must have been your grandmother's
aunt. Know then that the authority of several generations rests in me;
for like everything else in the world we are mortal, therefore
authority passes from one of us to another, and neither the hetman nor
the king can ignore it, nor force any one to oppose it. It is sacred!
Has the full hetman or even the grand hetman the right to command not
merely a noble or an officer, but any kind of camp-follower, to rise up
against his father, his mother, his grandfather, or his blind old
grandmother? Answer me that, Roh. Has he the right?"
"What?" asked Kovalski, with a sleepy voice.
"Against his blind old grandmother!" repeated Zagloba. "Who in that
case would be willing to marry and beget children, or wait for
grandchildren? Answer me that, Roh."
"I am Kovalski, and this is Pani Kovalski," said the still sleepier
officer.
"If it is your wish, let it be so," answered Zagloba. "Better indeed
that you have no children, there will be fewer fools to storm around in
the world. Is it not true, Roh?"
Zagloba held down his ear, but heard nothing,--no answer now.
"Roh! Roh!" called he, in a low voice.
Kovalski was sleeping like a dead man.
"Are you sleeping?" muttered Zagloba. "Wait a bit--I will take this
iron pot off your head, for it is of no use to you. This cloak is too
tight at the throat; it might cause apoplexy. What sort of relative
were I, did I not save you?"
Here Zagloba's hands began to move lightly about the head and neck of
Kovalski. In the wagon all were in a deep sleep; the soldiers too
nodded in the saddles; some in front were singing in a low voice, while
looking out the road carefully,--for the night, though not rainy, was
exceedingly dark.
After a time, however, the soldier leading Kovalski's horse behind the
wagon saw in the darkness the cloak and bright helmet of his officer.
Kovalski, without stopping the wagon, slipped out and nodded to give
him the horse. In a moment he mounted.
"Pan Commandant, where shall we stop to feed?" asked the sergeant,
approaching him.
Pan Roh gave no word in reply, but moving forward passed slowly those
riding in front and vanished in the darkness. Soon there came to the
ears of the dragoons the quick tramp of a horse.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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