A Terrible Vengeance

IX

The lord Danilo sat at the table in his house, leaning on his elbow, thinking. The lady Katerina sat on the stove, singing.

“I am sad, my wife!” said lord Danilo. “My head aches and my heart aches. I feel weighed down. It seems my death is hovering not far away.”

“Oh, my precious husband! lean your head upon me! Why do you cherish such black thoughts?” thought Katerina, but dared not utter the words. It was bitter to her, feeling her guilt, to receive her husband’s caresses.

“Listen, wife!” said Danilo, “do not desert our son when I am no more. God will give you no happiness either in this world or the next if you forsake him. Sad it will be for my bones to rot in the damp earth; sadder still it will be for my soul!”

“What are you saying, my husband? Was it not you who mocked at us weak women? And now you are talking like a weak woman yourself. You must live many years yet.”

“No, Katerina, my heart feels death near at hand. The world has become a sad place; cruel days are coming. Ah, I remember, I remember the good years—they will not return! He was living then, the honor and glory of our army, old Konashevich! The Cossack regiments pass before my eyes as though it were today. Those were golden days, Katerina! The old Hetman sat on a black stallion; his mace shone in his hand; the soldiers stood around him, and on each side moved the red sea of the Dnieper Cossacks. The Hetman began to speak—and all stood as though turned to stone. The old man wept when he told us of old days and battles long ago. Ah, Katerina, if only you knew how we fought in those days with the Turks! The scar on my head shows even now. Four bullets pierced me in four places and not one of the wounds has quite healed. How much gold we took in those days! The Cossacks filled their caps with precious stones. What horses, Katerina! If you only knew, what horses, Katerina, we drove away with us! Ah, I shall never fight like that! One would think I am not old and I am strong in body, yet the sword drops out of my hand, I live doing nothing and know not what I live for. There is no order in the Ukraine: the colonels and the captains quarrel like dogs: there is no chief over them all. Our gentry imitate Polish fashions and have copied their sly ways… they have sold their souls, accepting the Uniat faith. The Jews are oppressing the poor. Oh, those days, those days! Those days that are past! Whither have you fled, my years? Go to the cellar, boy, and bring me a jug of mead! I will drink to the life of the past and to the years that have gone!”

“How shall we receive our guests, lord Danilo? The Poles are coming from the direction of the meadow,” said Stetsko, coming into the hut.

“I know what they are coming for,” said Danilo. “Saddle the horses, my faithful men! Put on your harness!. Bare your swords! Don’t forget to take your rations of lead: we must do honor to our guests!”

But before the Cossacks had time to saddle their horses and load their guns, the Poles covered the mountainside as leaves cover the ground in autumn.

“Ah, here we have foes to try our strength with!” said Danilo, looking at the stout Poles swaying majestically on their gold-harnessed steeds in the front ranks. “It seems it is my lot to have one more glorious jaunt! Take your pleasure, Cossack soul, for the last time! Go ahead, Cossacks, the festival for which we waited has come!”

And the festival was kept on the mountains and great was the merrymaking: swords were playing, bullets flying, horses neighing and prancing. The shouting dazed the brain; the smoke blinded the eye. All was confusion, but the Cossack knew where was friend, where was foe; whenever a bullet whistled a gallant rider dropped from the saddle, whenever a sword flashed—a head fell to the ground, babbling meaningless words.

But the red crest of Danilo’s Cossack cap could always be seen in the crowd; the gold girdle of his dark blue coat gleamed bright, the mane on his black horse fluttered in the breeze. Like a bird he flew here and there, shouting and waving his Damascus sword and hacking to right and to left. Hack away, Cossack, make merry! Cheer your gallant heart; but look not at the gold trappings and tunics: trample under foot the gold and jewels! Stab, Cossack! Wreak your will, Cossack! But look back: already the godless Poles are setting fire to the huts and driving away the frightened cattle. And like a whirlwind Danilo turned around, and the cap with the red crest gleamed now by the huts while the crowd about him scattered.

Hour after hour the Poles fought with the Cossacks; there were not many left of either; but lord Danilo did not slacken; with his long spear he thrust Poles from the saddle and his spirited steed trampled them under foot. Already his courtyard was almost cleared, already the Poles were flying in all directions; already the Cossacks were stripping the golden coats and rich trappings from the slain; already Danilo was setting off in pursuit, when he looked around to call his men together… and was overwhelmed with fury: he saw Katerina’s father. There he stood on the hillside aiming his musket at him. Danilo urged his horse straight upon him… Cossack, you go to your doom! Then came the crack of a shot —and the sorcerer vanished behind the hill. Only the faithful Stetsko caught a glimpse of the scarlet coat and the strange hat. The Cossack staggered and fell to the ground. The faithful Stetsko flew to his master’s aid: his lord lay stretched on the ground with his bright eyes closed while the red blood spurted from his breast. But he became aware of his faithful servant’s presence; slowly he raised his eyelids and his eyes gleamed: “Farewell, Stetsko! Tell Katerina not to forsake her son! And do not you, my faithful servant, forsake him either!” and he ceased. His gallant soul flew from his noble body; his lips turned blue; the Cossack slept, never to wake again.

His faithful servant sobbed and beckoned to Katerina: “Come, lady, come! deeply has your lord been carousing; in drunken sleep he lies on the damp earth; and long will it be before he awakens!”

Katerina wrung her hands and fell like a sheaf of wheat on the dead body: “Husband, is it you lying here with closed eyes? Rise up, stretch out your hand! Stand up! Look, if only once, at your Katerina, move your lips, utter one word…! But you are mute, you are mute, my noble lord! You have turned blue as the Black Sea. Your heart is not beating! Why are you so cold, my lord? It seems my tears are not scalding, they have no power to warm you! It seems my weeping is not loud, it will not waken you! Who will lead your regiments now? Who will gallop on your black horse, loudly calling, and lead the Cossacks, waving your sword? Cossacks, Cossacks, where is your honor and glory? Your honor and glory is lying with closed eyes on the damp earth. Bury me, bury me with him! Throw earth upon my eyes! Press the maple boards upon my white breasts! My beauty is useless to me now!”

Katerina grieved and wept; while the distant horizon was covered with dust: the old Captain Gorobets was galloping to the rescue.