With Fire and Sword quotes

Eagles, falcons, and ravens alone saw these; and whoever from a distance heard the sound of wings and the call of ravens, whoever beheld the whirl of birds circling over one place, knew that corpses or unburied bones were lying beneath.

Men were hunted in the grass as wolves or wild goats.

All who wished, engaged in this hunt. Fugitives from the law defended themselves in the wild steppes. The armed herdsman guarded his flock, the warrior sought adventure, the robber plunder, the Cossack a Tartar, the Tartar a Cossack.

Fugitives from the law defended themselves in the wild steppes. The armed herdsman guarded his flock, the warrior sought adventure, the robber plunder, the Cossack a Tartar, the Tartar a Cossack. It happened that whole bands guarded herds from troops of robbers.

The steppe was both empty and filled, quiet and terrible, peaceable and full of ambushes; wild by reason of its wild plains, but wild, too, from the wild spirit of men.

At times a great war filled it. Then there flowed over it like waves Tartar chambuls, Cossack regiments, Polish or Wallachian companies.

A moment of silence followed; nothing was heard but the crackling of the fire and the snorting of the horses. From the distant reeds came the dismal howling of wolves. Suddenly Abdank repeated still again, as if to himself—

“The day of judgment is already on the road through the Wilderness, and when it comes all God’s world will be amazed.”

The lieutenant took the ring mechanically, so much was he astonished at the words of this strange man. But the man was looking into the dark distance of the steppe. Then he turned slowly and mounted his horse.

The young lieutenant turned him around, caught him by the nape of the neck with one hand, and with the other by the trousers below the belt raised him, squirming like a salmon, and going to the door between the benches called out—

“Brothers, clear the road for big horns; he’ll hook!”

Saying this, he went to the threshold, struck and opened the door with Chaplinski, and hurled the under-starosta out into the street. Then he resumed his seat quietly at the side of Zatsvilikhovski.

“I had scarcely seen you when I had forgotten myself altogether, and I see that it has come to the soldier hitherto free to be changed to a captive; but such clearly is the will of God.

Love is like an arrow which pierces the breast unexpectedly; and now I feel its sting, though yesterday I should not have believed this if any man had told it me.

”

then again he spent whole months in forest depths. His school was in raids to the Wilderness on the herds of the Tartars, in ambushes, battles, campaigns against Tartar coast towns, against Bélgorod, Wallachia, or with boats on the Black Sea.

He knew no days but days on his horse, no nights but nights at a steppe fire.

Soon he became the favorite of the entire lower country, a leader of others, and surpassed all men in daring. He was ready to go with a hundred horse even to Bagche Sarai, and start up a blaze under the very eyes of the Khan;

Then again he surrounded himself with blind minstrels, and listened to their songs and stories for days at a time, heaping gold on them. Among nobles he knew how to be a polished cavalier; among Cossacks he was the wildest of Cossacks.

In knightly company he was a knight; among robbers, a robber.

Some held him to be insane; for he was an unbridled, mad spirit. Why he was living in the world, what he wanted, whither he was tending, whom he served, he knew not himself. He served the steppes, the whirlwinds, war, love, his own fancy.

He was a man who was unwilling to let chance pull him on by the beard. There was great energy and enterprise in his nature.

He did not wait for what fate would give, he chose to take fate by the shoulder and force it to give him good fortune;

hence it was more difficult for him than any other man to sit with folded hands in Lubni. He resolved, therefore, to act.

asked Zatsvilikhovski. “Even here the people are so excited that it is difficult for them to keep still. Were it not for the nearness of the army of the crown, the mob would rush upon us. But there you are going into the dragon’s mouth.”

“Jonah was in the whale’s belly, not his mouth, and with God’s aid he came out in safety.”

“Go, then! I applaud your courage. You can go to Kudák in safety, and there you will see what is to be done further. Grodzitski is an old soldier; he will give you the best of advice.

Grodzitski looked gloomily at the lieutenant and said with a calm, emphatic voice:

“I will not defend myself.”

“I have no powder. I sent twenty boats for even a little; none has been sent me. I don’t know whether the messengers were intercepted or whether there is none. I only know that so far none has come.

Grodzitski, instead of growing angry, looked with clear eyes at the lieutenant.

“You are a biting dog!” muttered he in Russian.

“Pardon me. From your answer I see that you are able to uphold the dignity of the prince and the rank of noble. I’ll give you a couple of Cossack boats, for with your own you will not be able to pass the Cataracts.”

“I am,” said Skshetuski, haughtily.

“Am I a brother to thee that thou sayest ‘Thou’ to me?”

“Learn politeness, you ruffian!” interrupted the sergeant. “You must say, ‘Serene great mighty lord envoy.’ ”

“Screech-owl!” shouted Hmelnitski in rage, and flashed a knife before the breast of Skshetuski.

“Strike!” said Skshetuski.

Again came a moment of silence; again there was nothing to be heard but the snore of the sleeping men and the plaintive chirp of the cricket.

“

Craft is the equal of courage.

If we persuade the dragoons to our side, not a man of the Poles will escape—you understand!”

Hmelnitski felt relieved. He moved on without delay, and advanced through insurrection, slaughter, and fire. Ruin and corpses bore witness to this. He advanced like an avalanche, destroying everything in his path. The country rose before him, and was a desert behind.

He went like an avenger, like a legendary dragon; his footsteps pressed out blood, his breath kindled conflagrations.

In Cherkasi he halted with his main forces, sending in advance the Tartars under Tugai Bey and the wild Krívonos, who came up with the Polish hetmans at Korsún and attacked them without delay. The Tartars were forced to pay dearly for their boldness.

He felt proud, as a patriotic nobleman, that he had received strength in his despondency, and was not deceived in his faith. He desired no revenge.

“She has conquered like a queen, she will forgive like a mother,” thought he.

Meanwhile the roar of cannon was changed to prolonged thunder. Horses’ hoofs clattered again over the empty streets. A Cossack, bareheaded and in his shirtsleeves, dashed into the square on a barebacked horse, with the speed of a thunderbolt;

The middle rider, in red uniform, sat on a white horse, holding a gilded baton at his side. He looked as proud as a king. This was Hmelnitski. On one side of him rode Tugai Bey, on the other Krechovski.

The Commonwealth lay prostrate in dust and blood at the feet of a Cossack.

Skshetuski looked down on the raging Hmelnitski, and then said calmly:

“Conquer him first.”

“Hetman,” said Krechovski, “let this insolent noble go his way, for it does not become your dignity to be affected by anger against him; and since you have promised him freedom he calculates that either you will break your word or listen to his invectives.”

Bogun, as if in answer not to Zagloba but to his own grief, said in a voice more like that of revery than conversation—

“She is the one cuckoo, the only one on earth!”

“Even if that were true, if she calls for another, she is nothing to you. It is rightly said that the heart is a volunteer; under whatever banner it wants to serve, under that it serves.

“God grant my beauty may work no ill for me!” said Helena. But she smiled; for her woman’s ear was tickled by Zagloba’s praise.

“Beauty never turns out ill, and I will give you an example of this; for when the Turks in Galáts burned out one of my eyes, and wanted to burn out the other, the wife of the Pasha saved me on account of my extraordinary beauty, the remnants of which you may see even yet.”

“But you said that the Wallachians burned your eye out.”

“The boy is tired to death; he fell asleep under the very sound of the hammers,” said Zagloba. But in his soul he thought:

“Oh, sweet innocence, thou art able to sleep amidst pikes and knives! It is clear that angels of heaven are guarding thee, and me in thy company.”

He roused her, and they went on toward the village, which lay at some distance. The night was calm and quiet; the echo of the striking hammers followed them. The old peasant went ahead to show the way in the darkness;

Here passed the years which were for him praise before men, merit before God; and now the praise and the merit are to roll away in smoke.

Two tears flowed slowly down his face. These were his last tears, after which remained in his eyes only lightning.

The prince’s horse stretched out his neck and neighed, and this neighing was answered immediately by other steeds under the banners. These sounds roused the prince from his revery and filled him with hope.

Anusia’s cheeks burned still more hotly, but without a moment’s hesitation she answered—

“You would like to get a keepsake from other hands than mine, but you will not get it; for if it is not too crowded for you there, it is too high.”

The blow was well directed and double, for in the first place it turned the sarcasm to the low stature of the knight, and in the second to his passion for Princess Barbara Zbaraska. Pan Volodyovski fell in love first with the elder sister Anna;

Anusia fastened the scarf, and then her little hands disappeared entirely under the blond mustaches of Pan Longin. There was heard only the sound of kissing and muttering, hearing which Volodyovski said to Lieutenant Migurski,

“One would swear that a bear had broken into a beehive and was eating the honey.”

Then he went away with a certain anger, for he felt Anusia’s sting, and moreover he had been in love with her in his time.

the Tartar, wandering around for plunder, sprang from his horse and put his ear to the ground from time to time; in the castles and fortresses that were still uncaptured, bells were sounded and “Te Deum laudamus” was sung.

And that terrible lion laid himself down on the threshold of a rebellious land and rested. He was gathering his strength.

“Alive, well, safe!” roared back the minstrel; “unhand me! The devil take you, you are shaking the soul out of me!”

Then that knight, whom neither captivity nor wounds nor grief nor the terrible Burdabut could bring down, was brought down by happiness.

His hands dropped at his side, great drops of sweat came out on his forehead; he fell on his knees, covered his face with his hands, and leaning his head against the wall of the ravine, remained in silence, evidently thanking God.

“How God in his mercy has endowed different nations with different virtues! As I hear, there is no cavalry in the world better than ours, and again neither our infantry nor the Hungarian can be compared with the German.”

“Because God is just,” remarked Zagloba. “For instance, he gave you a great fortune, a big sword, and a heavy hand, but small wit.”

“Zagloba has fastened on him like a horseleech,” said Pan Yan, smiling.

“For your good deeds God will reward you and keep you in health.”

“Well, if only he doesn’t reward me too soon.”

“Why didn’t you stay in the camp?”

“He is not wounded, only bruised,” answered Azulevich, a Tartar, “and has gulped water, for he fell head first into the pond.”

“Then I wonder the fish didn’t die,” said Zagloba, with anger, “for the water must have boiled from such a flaming head.”

“But he is a great warrior.”

But it was the retreat of a lion needing room for a spring.

The prince purposely allowed Krívonos to cross so as to inflict on him the greater defeat.

Soldiers of the best regiments looked like wandering minstrels, worse than the attendants from other commands; but all bow before these rags, before this rust and shabbiness, for they are the banners of heroes.

War is a cruel mother; like Saturn, she devours her own children, and whom she does not devour, she gnaws as a dog gnaws bones.

Those faded uniforms signify stormy nights, marches amidst the rage of the elements or the burning of the sun; that rust on the steel means the unwiped blood of the man himself, of the enemy, or both together.

“Ai! if she has not,” answered he, sadly, “may the first bullet not pass me; may I finish my wretched life on the empaling stake!

I love one in the world, and that one does not love me!

”

but in old times I killed only Tartars, and brought you booty, that you might be clothed in gold and jewels like cherubim of the Lord. Why did you not love me, then? Oh, it is heavy and sad at my heart!

I cannot live with you nor without you, nor far away nor near you, neither on the mountain nor in the valley, my dove, my precious heart!

But forgive me that I came for you to Rozlogi in Cossack style, with sabre and fire; but I was drunk with anger at the princes, and I drank gorailka on the way—unhappy outlaw!

“

The worst thing, in grief, is to sit in one place. When you get on horseback, all your despair flies down from the shaking, till you shake it off completely and entirely.

”

“

Oh, if they would only stand in a row!

” said Pan Longin, in a voice full of emotion, raising his eyes to heaven.

Pan Yan turned his suffering face slowly to Volodyovski, and inquired with a dull voice, full of deathly resignation: “

Tell me, Michael, what is left to me now but a monk’s habit?

”

“It would always be livelier if some one of them were here. To whatever God predestined a man, for that he created him; and those three ought to have been born horseflies, for they love to sit in blood.

They are in war just as other men are at the cup, or like fish in water. War is their play.

They have light stomachs, but heavy hands. I have seen Skshetuski at work, and I know what skill he has. He hurries through men as monks through their prayers. That’s his favorite work.

They are in war just as other men are at the cup, or like fish in water. War is their play. They have light stomachs, but heavy hands. I have seen Skshetuski at work, and I know what skill he has.

He hurries through men as monks through their prayers.

That’s his favorite work. That Lithuanian, who has no head of his own, is looking for three strange heads, and he has nothing to risk.

Happily he is marching not far from me, and I think that I shall do better to join him, for if I know where to go may the ducks trample me!”

Zagloba felt so lonely in the world that he took pity upon his own loneliness.

“Indeed!” muttered he. “Every man has someone to look to; but how is it with me? I have neither comrade nor father nor mother. I am an orphan, and that is the end of it!”

others were whirling in a round dance; a third party of them were dancing the kazachka face to face with each other. Then Zagloba fell into terribly deep thought, and said to his musing soul—

“Is it possible that I alone in the universe am not drunk?”

But suddenly the earth itself quivered, like the stars, in a mad whirl, and Zagloba fell his whole length on the ground.

“Stratagems! If a pig lay here in this stable, he would have more stratagems than I, for they would not tie him crosswise to a sabre.

If Solomon had been bound in this way, he would have been no wiser than his trousers or my boot-heel.

Oh, my God, my God, for what dost thou punish me? Of all people in the world I wanted most to avoid this scoundrel, and such is my luck that he is just the man I have not avoided.

“Gentlemen,” said he, “I fell into captivity, it is true; but fortune turns around. Bogun has been all his life victorious, but we beat him this time. That is how it is usually in war.

Today you tan people, tomorrow they tan you.

But God punished Bogun because he fell upon us, sleeping sweetly the sleep of the just, and roused us in such a dishonorable way. Ho, ho! he thought to terrify me with his filthy tongue;

“

It’s a foolish hound that runs after his own tail, for he will not catch it and will not smell anything honorable, and besides will lose his wind.

How many men have you lost?”

We were barely able to save the prince himself. Then over the trampled-out fires, in darkness, like a dammed-up torrent, like a river, the whole army in wild panic rush from the camp, flee, scatter, disappear.

No more an army, no more leaders, no more a Commonwealth⁠—nothing but unwashed disgrace and the foot of the Cossack on your neck!

”

But how insignificant appeared little Pan Michael before the large and powerful ataman! He was almost invisible. The seconds looked uneasily on the broad breast of the Cossack, on the great muscles visible from under the rolled-up sleeve, like knots and cords.

It seemed as though a little cock had stood up to fight with a powerful falcon of the steppes.

The nostrils of Bogun were distended as if snuffing blood in advance; his face was so contracted that his dark foretop seemed to touch his brow, and the sabre quivered in his hand; he fixed his eyes rapaciously on his opponent and waited the word.

“

To whom life is heavy, the earth will be light.

”

“

God gave grief to devour, and he will send the cure when he wishes.

”

“True, true,” said Kjetovski. “We all belong more to the dead than the living.

People have forgotten to smile in this Commonwealth; they only groan like that wind in the chimney.

I too have believed that happier times would come, till I went on this journey with others; but now I see that that was a barren hope. Ruin, war, hunger, murder, and nothing more—nothing more.”

“

They say in Warsaw that I drink Polish blood, but I prefer gorailka, leaving the other to the dogs.

”

“

I am accustomed to pain, serene voevoda, but I cannot endure disgrace.

”

“

Podbipienta knows as much of public affairs as a goat does of pepper.

While at the court his mind was more on that tufted lark than anything else, and he pushed up to her as a dog to a partridge. God grant that someone else may get her from him! But enough of this!

“Console yourself, Pan Michael,” repeated Zagloba. “There is a prophecy too about the new king, that his whole reign will be passed under arms. It is most likely that the sabre will not be sheathed for a long time to come.

Man will tremble from continual war, like a broom from shaking; but that is our soldier lot.

When you have to fight, Pan Michael, keep close to me and you will see beautiful things—you will learn how we used to fight in past and better times. Oh, my God! not such people as at present were those in years gone by.

“

What is done quickly is done in the devil’s fashion,

” answered Jendzian. “When I heard that, my master, how I rejoiced! But I did not show it, and I say: ‘Is she surely there, for it must be a long time since you took her to the place?’

“And justly.

He has a great soul in a little body.

This moment he is somehow dull. It is evident that your beauty has stunned him; but wait, let him only grow used to it and he will come to himself. Oh! he and I worked wonders at the election.”

Then the ants began to travel along the back of the little knight.

“That girl goes to the head like wine!” thought he; “but I cannot drink this wine, for it is another’s.”

The honest Pan Michael then shook himself and urged his horse forward. When he plunged into the grass like a sea-mew into water, the ants fell from him; he turned all his attention to the journey.

They were silent, and sped on like ghosts. The trees began to grow thinner; they were reaching the end of the forest, and the fire was somewhat dimmer too. Suddenly Helena turned to Volodyovski.

“Swear to me, gentlemen,” said she, “that I shall not go alive into their hands.”

“You will not,” said Volodyovski, “while I am alive.”

“Swear to me, gentlemen,” said she, “that I shall not go alive into their hands.”

“You will not,” said Volodyovski, “while I am alive.”

They had barely passed the end and come into an open field about a mile in width, and on the other side of it another line of forest stood dark.

“Look out on the square! All at the walls look with longing eyes toward Old Zbaraj; others in the town have climbed the towers; and if anyone cries in a joke, ‘He is coming,’ they are mad with joy.

A thirsty stag is not so eager for water as we for the prince.

Oh, if he could only get here before Hmelnitski! But I think he must have been delayed.”

without, a black and wildly moving swarm, as one gigantic eddy followed another, horses fleeing without riders; within, noise, uproar, and the thunder of guns. In one place some were rushing through others, in another they struggled unbroken.

As a wild boar at bay defends himself with his white tusks and tears the raging dogs, so that tabor in the midst of the cloud of Tartars defended itself desperately

, hoping that assistance greater than Vershul’s would come from the camp.

Cherkes, Wallachians, Silistrians, Rumelians, Turks, bands of Serbs and Bulgarians were also in that host. It might appear that a new migration of nations had abandoned the dreary abodes on the steppes, and were moving westward to win fresh lands and found a new kingdom.

This was the relation of the struggling forces⁠—a handful against legions, an island against the sea.

No wonder then that many a heart was beating with alarm.

“The hetman commanded me to inform you that he has come as a guest to Zbaraj, and will visit you in the castle tomorrow.”

“Tell him that not tomorrow, but today I give a feast in the castle,” answered the prince.

In fact an hour later the mortars were thundering salutes, joyous shouts were raised; all the windows of the castle shone with a thousand gleaming lights.

The Khan was astonished. “A feast?”

“He is giving a feast for the slain of tomorrow,” said Hmelnitski.

That moment new discharges thundered from the castle, the trumpets sounded, and mingled shouts reached the worthy ears of the Khan. “God is one!” muttered he. “There is a lion in the heart of that infidel.” And after a moment of silence he added:

That moment new discharges thundered from the castle, the trumpets sounded, and mingled shouts reached the worthy ears of the Khan.

“God is one!” muttered he. “There is a lion in the heart of that infidel.” And after a moment of silence he added: “I should rather be with him than with you.”

Hmelnitski trembled. He paid for the indispensable Tartar friendship, and besides was not sure of his terrible ally. Any whim of the Khan, and all the hordes might turn against the Cossacks, who would be lost beyond redemption.

The soldiers were infatuated with their leader, with danger, with assaults, with wounds and death. A certain heroic exaltation seized their souls; their hearts became haughty, their minds callous.

Horror became to them a delight.

Different regiments strove for preeminence in enduring hunger, sleeplessness, toil, daring, and fury. This was carried to such a degree that it was difficult to keep the soldiers on the walls; they were breaking out against the enemy as wolves ravenous from hunger against sheep.

“Our powder is gone; we have sent to the castle for more.”

“You have it nearer!” said the prince, pointing to the enemy’s trench.

He had scarcely spoken when the whole body sprang from the rampart, rushed to the enemy, and fell like a hurricane on the intrenchment. The Cossacks were clubbed with muskets and stabbed with pikes, four guns were spiked;

Meanwhile the mob and the Cossacks began to murmur. It was difficult for them to sit in smoke and fire, in a rain of bullets, with the odor of corpses, in rain, in heat, before the face of death.

But the valiant Cossacks did not fear toil, nor bad weather, nor storms with fire and blood and death; they feared “Yarema.”

All pressed the palms of Pan Longin; but he stood with downcast eyes, sunshiny, sweet, timid as a maiden before marriage, and said as if in explanation:

“They were in good position.”

Then they tested the sword; but since it was the double-handed sword of a crusader, no man could move it freely, not excepting even the priest Jabkovski, though he could break a horseshoe like a reed.

“But they will cut you to pieces, without doubt!” cried Zagloba, “Have you heard what the starosta says—that it is evident death?”

“What of that, brother? If God wishes, he will carry me through; if not, he will reward me in heaven.”

“But first they will seize you, torture you, give you a fearful death. Have you lost your reason, man?” asked Zagloba.

“

Because my lip is worse than my heart.

But don’t make it bleed, Pan Michael, with remembrances, for as matters are I reproach myself; and God forbid that anything should happen to Pan Longin! I should have no peace till my death.”

“Don’t grieve so much. He never had any ill feeling against you, and I have heard him say himself, ‘

An evil mouth, but a golden heart.

’ ”

Zagloba rushed on in advance, his sabre above his head, raging like a mad bull. The Cossacks sprang forward too with scythes and flails on the assailants. Two walls, as it were, struck with a crash.

But fat dogs cannot defend themselves long against hungry and raging wolves.

Pushed from their place, cut with sabres, torn with teeth, beaten, crushed, the Cossacks could not withstand the fury; they were soon confused, and then fled to the cut. Zagloba, raging, rushed into the thickest crowd, like a lioness whose cubs are gone.

Pan Yan in selecting this road did not deceive himself as to its difficulties, but he did not foresee everything. He did not foresee, for instance, its terrors.

Every depth of water, even the best known, has in it something mysterious and terrifying, and involuntarily urges the question, What is down at the bottom?

And this pond of Zbaraj was simply awful. The water in it seemed to be thicker than common water, and exuded the odor of corpses, for hundreds of Cossacks and Tartars had decayed there.