The Deluge. Vol. 1

"I am not hetman and voevoda of Vilna," answered Kmita, "and what does not belong to me is not on my head. But if it is a question of rushing the third against thousands I will go."

"Listen, then, soldier! Since your head has not to save the country, leave it to mine."

"I cannot!" said Kmita, with set teeth.

Radzivill shook his head. "I did not count on the others, I looked for what happened; but in you I was deceived. Interrupt not, but listen. I placed you on your feet, I freed you from judgment and punishment, I gathered you to my heart as my own son. Know you why? Because I thought that in you was a daring soul, ready for grand undertakings. I needed such men, I hide it not. Around me was no man who would dare to look at the sun with unflinching eye. There were men of small soul and petty courage. To such never show a path other than that on which they and their fathers have travelled, for they will halt saying that you have sent them on a devious way. And still, where, if not to the precipice, have we all come by these old roads? What is happening to the Commonwealth which formerly could threaten the world?"

Here the prince seized his head in his hands and repeated thrice: "O God! God! God!"

After a while he continued: "The time of God's anger has come, – a time of such misfortunes and of such a fall that with the usual methods we cannot rise from this sickness; and if I wish to use new ones, which alone can bring us salvation, even those desert me on whose readiness I counted, whose duty it was to have confidence, who took oath on the cross to trust me. By the blood and wounds of Christ! Did you think that I submitted to the protection of Karl Gustav forever, that in truth I think to join this country to Sweden, that the treaty, for which I am called a traitor, will last beyond a year? Why do you look with astonished eyes? You will be still more astonished when you hear all. You will be more astonished, for something will happen which no one will think of, no one admit, which the mind of a common man has not power to grasp. But I say to you, Tremble not, for in this is the country's salvation; do not draw back, for if I find no one to help me, possibly I may perish, but with me will perish the Commonwealth and ye all for the ages. I alone can save, but I must bend and trample all obstacles. Woe to him who opposes me; for God himself will crush him through me, whether he be the voevoda of Vityebsk or Pan Gosyevski or the army, or a refractory nobility. I wish to save the Commonwealth; and to me all ways, all methods are good for that end. Rome in times of disaster named dictators, – such power, nay, greater and more lasting, is needful to me. Not pride draws me to it, – whoso feels equal to this power let him take it instead of me. But if no one does I will take the power, though these walls should fall first on my head!"

Then the prince stretched both his hands upward, as if in fact he wished to support the arches falling upon his head, and there was in him something so gigantic that Kmita opened his eyes and gazed as if he had never seen him before; and at last he asked with changed voice: "Whither art thou striving, your highness? What do you wish?"

"A crown!" cried Radzivill.

"Jesus, Mary!"

A moment of deep silence followed; but an owl on the tower of the castle began to hoot shrilly.

"Listen," said the prince, "it is time to tell you all. The Commonwealth is perishing, and must perish. There is no salvation on earth for it. The question is to save first from the ruin this country (Lithuania), this our immediate fatherland, and then-then make the whole Commonwealth rise from its own ashes, as the phœnix rises. I will do this; and the crown, which I desire, I will place as a burden on my head, so as to bring out from this great tomb a new life. Do not tremble! The ground will not open, everything stands on its own place; but new times are coming. I give this country to the Swedes so as to stop with Swedish arms another enemy, to drive him beyond the boundaries, to win back what is lost, and force with the sword a treaty from that enemy in his own capital. Do you hear me? But in rocky, hungry Sweden there are not men enough, not forces enough, not sabres enough to take possession of this immense Commonwealth. They may defeat our army once and a second time; but to hold us in obedience they cannot. If one Swede were given as a guard to every ten men in this land, there would still be many tens of them without guards. Karl Gustav knows this well, and neither does he wish nor is he able to take the whole Commonwealth. He will occupy Royal Prussia, most of Great Poland, and will be content with that. But to hold in coming time these acquisitions securely, he must break the union of the kingdom with us; otherwise he could not remain in those provinces. What will happen then to this country? To whom will it be given? Well, if I refuse the crown which God and fortune places on my head, it will be given to him who at this moment is in possession. But Karl Gustav is not willing to consent to this act, which would increase a neighboring power too greatly, and create for himself a formidable enemy. But if I refuse the crown, he will be forced to consent. Have I the right, then, to refuse? Can I allow that to take place which would threaten us with final ruin? For the tenth and the hundredth time I ask, Where are there other means of salvation? Let the will of God, then, be done! I take this burden on my shoulders. The Swedes are on my aide; the elector, our relative, promises aid. I will free the country from war! With victories and extension of boundaries will begin the rule of my house. Peace and prosperity will flourish; fire will not burn towns and villages. Thus it will be, thus it must be. So help me God and the holy cross! I feel within me power and strength from heaven, I desire the happiness of this land, and that is not yet the end of my plans. And by those heavenly lights I swear, by those trembling stars, that if only strength and health remain to me, I will build anew all this edifice, now tumbling to ruins; I will make it stronger than ever."

Fire was flashing from the pupils and eyes of the prince; his whole form shed an uncommon halo.

"Your highness," cried Kmita, "I cannot grasp that thought; my head is bursting, my eyes fear to look ahead."

"Besides," said Radzivill, as if pursuing the further course of his own thoughts, "the Swedes will not deprive Yan Kazimir of the kingdom nor of rule, but will leave him in Mazovia and Little Poland. God has not given him posterity. An election will come in time. Whom will they choose to the throne if they wish a further union with Lithuania? When did the kingdom grow strong and crush the Knights of the Cross? After Vladyslav Yagyello had mounted the throne. It will be the same this time. The Poles can call to the throne only him who will be reigning here. They cannot and will not call another, for they would perish, because the breath would not remain in their breasts between the Germans and the Turks, and as it is, the Cossack cancer is gnawing the kingdom. They can call no one else! Blind is he who does not see this; foolish who does not understand it. Both countries will unite again and become one power in my house. Then I shall see if those kinglets of Scandinavia will remain in their Prussia and Great Poland acquired to-day. Then I will say to them, Quos ego! and with this foot will crush their lean ribs, and create a power such as the world has not seen, such as history has not described; perhaps I may carry the cross with fire and sword to Constantinople, and in peace at home terrify the enemy. Thou great God, who orderest the circuits of the stars, grant me to save this ill-fated land, for thy glory and that of all Christendom; give me men to understand my thought, men to put their hands to salvation. There is where I stand!" Here the prince opened his arms, and raised his eyes aloft: "Thou seest me, thou judgest me!"

"Mighty prince, mighty prince!" cried Kmita.

"Go, desert me, cast the baton at my feet, break your oath, call me traitor! Let no thorn be lacking in that prickly crown which they have put on my head. Destroy ye the country, thrust it over the precipice, drag away the hand that could save it, and go to the judgment of God! Let him decide between us."

Kmita cast himself on his knees before Radzivill. "Mighty prince, I am with you to the death! Father of the country, savior!"

Radzivill put both hands on his head, and again followed a moment of silence. Only the owl hooted unceasingly on the tower.

"You will receive all that you have yearned for and wished," said the prince, with solemnity. "Nothing will miss you, and more will meet you than your father and mother desired. Rise, future grand hetman and voevoda of Vilna!"

It had begun to dawn in the sky.

CHAPTER XVI

Pan Zagloba had his head mightily full when he hurled the word "traitor" thrice at the eyes of the terrible hetman. At an hour nearer morning, when the wine had evaporated from his bald head, and he found himself with the two Skshetuskis and Pan Michael in a dungeon of Kyedani Castle, he saw, when too late, the danger to which he had exposed his own neck and the necks of his comrades, and was greatly cast down.

"But what will happen now?" asked he, gazing with dazed look on the little knight, in whom he had special trust in great peril.

"May the devil take life! it is all one to me!" answered Volodyovski.

"We shall live to such times and such infamy as the world and this kingdom have not seen hitherto!" said Pan Yan.

"Would that we might live to them!" answered Zagloba; "we could restore virtue in others by our good example. But shall we live? That is the great question."

"This is a terrible event, passing belief!" said Pan Stanislav. "Where has the like of it happened? Save me, gentlemen, for I feel that there is confusion in my head. Two wars, – a third, the Cossack, – and in addition treason, like a plague: Radzyovski, Opalinski, Grudzinski, Radzivill! The end of the world is coming, and the day of judgment; it cannot be otherwise! May the earth open under our feet! As God is dear to me, I am losing my mind!"

And clasping his hands at the back of his head, he began to pace the length and width of the cellar, like a wild beast in a cage.

"Shall we begin to pray, or what?" asked he at last. "Merciful God, save us!"

"Be calm!" said Zagloba; "this is not the time to despair."

Pan Stanislav ground his teeth on a sudden; rage carried him away. "I wish you were killed!" cried he to Zagloba. "It was your thought to come to this traitor. May vengeance reach you and him!"

"Bethink yourself, Stanislav," said Pan Yan, sternly. "No one could foresee what has happened. Endure, for you are not the only man suffering; and know that our place is here, and not elsewhere. Merciful God! pity, not us, but the ill-fated country."

Stanislav made no answer, but wrung his hands till the joints were cracking.

They were silent. Pan Michael, however, began to whistle through his teeth, in despair, and feigned indifference to everything happening around him, though, in fact, he suffered doubly, – first, for the misfortune of the country, and secondly, because he had violated his obedience to the hetman. The latter was a terrible thing for him, a soldier to the marrow of his bones. He would have preferred to die a thousand times.

"Do not whistle, Pan Michael," said Zagloba.

"All one to me!"

"How is it? Is no one of you thinking whether there are not means of escape? It is worth while to exercise one's wits on this. Are we to rot in this cellar, when every hand is needed for the country, when one man of honor must settle ten traitors?"

"Father is right," said Pan Yan.

"You alone have not become stupid from pain. What do you suppose? What does that traitor think of doing with us? Surely he will not punish us with death?"

Pan Michael burst out in a sudden laugh of despair. "But why not? I am curious to learn! Has he not authority, has he not the sword? Do you not know Radzivill?"

"Nonsense! What right do they give him?"

"Over me, the right of a hetman; over you, force!"

"For which he must answer."

"To whom, – to the King of Sweden?"

"You give me sweet consolation; there is no denying that!"

"I have no thought of consoling you."

They were silent, and for a time there was nothing to be heard but the measured tread of Scottish infantry at the door of the cellar.

"There is no help here," said Zagloba, "but stratagem."

No one gave answer; therefore he began to talk again after a while: "I will not believe that we are to be put to death. If for every word spoken in haste and in drink, a head were cut off, not one noble in this Commonwealth would walk around with his head on his shoulders. But neminem captivabimus? Is that a trifle?"

"You have an example in yourself and in us," answered Stanislav.