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
These thoughts did not let Volodyovski sleep on the night following.
For a number of days he was thinking continually of Panna Aleksandra,
and saw that she had dropped deeply into his heart. Besides, the Lauda
nobles wished to bring about a marriage between them. It is true that
she had refused him without hesitation, but at that time she neither
knew him nor had seen him. Now it was something quite different. He had
wrested her in knightly fashion from the hands of a man of violence,
had exposed himself to bullets and sabres, had captured her like a
fortress. Whose is she, if not his? Can she refuse him anything, even
her hand? Well, shall he not try? Perhaps affection has begun in her
from gratitude, since it happens often in the world that the rescued
lady gives straightway her hand to her rescuer. If she has not
conceived an affection for him as yet, it behooves him all the more to
exert himself in the matter.
"But if she remembers and loves the other man still?"
"It cannot be," repeated Volodyovski to himself; "if she had not
rejected him, he would not have taken her by force. She showed, it is
true, uncommon kindness to him; but it is a woman's work to take pity
on the wounded, even if they are enemies. She is young, without
guardianship; it is time for her to marry. It is clear that she
has no vocation for the cloister, or she would have entered one
already. There has been time enough. Men will annoy such a comely lady
continually,--some for her fortune, others for her beauty, and still
others for her high blood. Oh, a defence the reality of which she can
see with her own eyes will be dear to her. It is time too for thee to
settle down, my dear Michael!" said Volodyovski to himself. "Thou art
young yet, but the years hurry swiftly. Thou wilt win not fortune in
service, but rather more wounds in thy skin, and to thy giddy life will
come an end."
Here through the memory of Pan Volodyovski passed a whole line of young
ladies after whom he had sighed in his life. Among them were some very
beautiful and of high blood, but one more charming and distinguished
there was not. Besides, the people of these parts exalted that family
and that lady, and from her eyes there looked such honesty that may God
give no worse wife to the best man.
Pan Volodyovski felt that a prize was meeting him which might not come
a second time, and this the more since he had rendered the lady such
uncommon service. "Why delay?" said he to himself. "What better can I
wait for? I must try."
Pshaw! but war is at hand. His arm was well. It was a shame for a
knight to go courting when his country was stretching forth its hands
imploring deliverance. Pan Michael had the heart of an honest soldier;
and though he had served almost from boyhood, though he had taken part
in nearly all the wars of his time, he knew what he owed his country,
and he dreamed not of rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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