The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
not begun, voluntarily paying her homage as to a saint. Zbyszko did the
same; nobody in this assembly doubted that he really saw a saint, whose
image would some time adorn the church altars. Besides the respect due to
a queen, they almost worshipped her on account of her religious and holy
life. It was reported that the queen could perform miracles. They said
that she could cure the sick by touching them with her hand; that people
who could not move their legs nor their arms, were able to do it, after
they put on a dress which the queen had worn. Trustworthy witnesses
affirmed that they had heard with their own ears, Christ speak to her
from the altar. Foreign monarchs worshipped her on their knees and even
the Order of the Knights of the Cross respected her and feared to offend
her. Pope Bonifacius IX. called her the pious and chosen daughter of the
church. The world looked at her deeds and remembered that this child of
the Andegavian[41] house and Polish Piasts[42], this daughter of the
powerful Louis, a pupil of the most fastidious of courts, and also one of
the most beautiful women on earth, renounced happiness, renounced her
first love and being a queen married a "wild" prince of Lithuania, in
order to bring to the cross, by his help, the last pagan nation in
Europe. That which could not be accomplished by the forces of all the
Germans, by a sea of poured out blood, was done with one word from her.
Never did the glory of an apostle shine over a younger and more charming
forehead; never was the apostleship united with equal self-denial; never
was the beauty of a woman lighted with such angelic kindness and such
quiet sadness.
Therefore minstrels sang about her in all the European courts; knights
from the remotest countries came to Krakow to see this "Queen of Poland;"
her own people loved her, as the pupil of the eye and their power and
glory had increased by her marriage with Jagiello. Only one great sorrow
hung over her and the nation; for long years this child of God had had no
issue.
But now this sorrow had passed away and the joyful news of God's blessing
on the queen sped like lightning from the Baltic to the Black Sea, also
to Karpaty[43] and filled with joy all peoples of this powerful kingdom.
In all foreign courts, except in the capital of the Knights of the Cross,
the news was received with pleasure. In Rome "Te Deum" was sung. In the
provinces of Poland the belief was firmly established, that anything the
"Saint lady" asked of God, would be granted.
Therefore there came to her people to beseech her, that she ask health
for them; there came envoys from the provinces and from other countries,
to ask that she pray according to their need, either for rain, or for
fair weather for harvesting; for lucky moving time; for abundant fishing
in the lakes or for game in the forests.
Those knights, living in castles and _grodeks_ on the frontier, who
according to the custom learned from the Germans, had become robbers or
waged war among themselves, at the command of the queen, put their swords
in their scabbards, released their prisoners without ransom, restored
stolen herds and clasped hands in friendship. All kinds of misery, all
kinds of poverty crowded the gates of her castle in Krakow. Her pure
spirit penetrated human hearts, softened the hard lot of the serfs, the
great pride of the lords, the unjust severity of the judges, and hovered
like a dove of happiness, like an angel of justice and peace, over the
whole country.
No wonder then that all were awaiting with anxious hearts for the day of
blessing.
The knights looked closely at the figure of the queen, to see if they
could ascertain how long they would be obliged to wait for the future
heir to the throne. The _ksiondz_[44] bishop of Krakow, Wysz, who was
also the ablest physician in the country, and famous even abroad, had not
announced when the delivery would occur. They were making some
preparation; but it was the custom at that time to begin all festivals as
early as possible, and to prolong them for weeks. In fact the figure of
the lady, although a little rounded, had retained until now its former
grandeur. She was dressed with excessive simplicity. Formerly, having
been brought up at a brilliant court, and being more beautiful than any
of the contemporary princesses, she was fond of costly fabrics, of
chains, pearls, gold bracelets and rings; but now and even for several
years past, she not only wore the dress of a nun, but she even covered
her face, fearing that the thoughts of her beauty might arouse in her
worldly vanity. In vain Jagiello, having learned of her condition, in a
rapture of joy ordered her sleeping apartment to be decorated with
brocade and jewels. Having renounced all luxury, and remembering that the
time of confinement is often the time of death, she decided that not
among jewels, but in quiet humility she ought to receive the blessing
which God had promised to send her.
Meanwhile the gold and jewels went to establish a college and to send the
newly converted Lithuanian youths to foreign universities.
The queen agreed only to change her monastical dress, and from the time
that the hope of maternity was changed to positive certainty, she did not
veil her face, thinking that the dress of a penitent was no longer
proper.
Consequently everybody was now looking with love at that beautiful face,
to which neither gold, nor precious stones could add any charm. The queen
walked slowly from the vestry door toward the altar, with uplifted eyes,
holding in one hand a book, in the other a rosary. Zbyszko saw the
lily-like face, the blue eyes, and the angelic features full of peace,
kindness and mercy, and his heart began to throb with emotion. He knew
that according to God's command he ought to love the king and the queen,
and he did in his way; but now his heart overflowed with a great love,
which did not come by command, but burst forth like a flame; his heart
was also filled with the greatest worship, humility and desire for
sacrifice. The young _wlodyka_ Zbyszko was impetuous; therefore a desire
immediately seized him, to show in some way that love and the
faithfulness of a knight; to accomplish some deed for her; to rush
somewhere, to conquer some one and to risk his own life for it all. "I
had better go with _Kniaz_ Witold," he said to himself, "because how can
I serve the holy lady, if there is no war here." He did not stop to think
that one can serve in other ways as well as with sword or spear or axe;
he was ready to attack alone the whole power of Tymur the Lame. He wanted
to jump on his charger immediately after mass and begin something. What?
He did not know himself. He only knew, that he could not hold anything,
that his hands were burning and his whole soul was on fire.
He forgot all about the danger which threatened him. He even forgot about
Danusia, and when he remembered her, having heard the children singing in
the church, he felt that this love was something different. He had
promised Danusia fidelity; he had promised her three Germans and he would
keep his promise. But the queen is above all women. While he was thinking
how many people he would like to kill for the queen, he perceived
regiments of armors, helmets, ostrich feathers, peacocks' crests, and he
felt that even that would be small in proportion to his desire.
He looked at her constantly, pondering with overflowing heart, how he
could honor her by prayer, because he thought that one could not make an
ordinary prayer for a queen. He could say: _Pater noster, qui es in
coelis, sanctificetur nomen Tuum_, because a certain Franciscan monk
taught him this in Wilno; but it may be that the Franciscan himself did
not know more; it may be that Zbyszko had forgotten; but it is certain
that he could not recite the whole "Our Father." But now he began to
repeat these few words which in his soul had the following meaning: "Give
our beloved lady good health, long life and great happiness; care for her
more than for anyone else."
As this was repeated by a man over whose head punishment was suspended,
therefore there was no more sincere prayer in the whole church.
CHAPTER V.
After mass Zbyszko thought that if he could only fall upon his knees
before the queen and kiss her feet, then he did not care what happened
afterward. But after the first mass, the queen went to her apartments.
Usually she did not take any nourishment until noontime, and was not
present at the merry breakfast, during which jugglers and fools appeared
for the amusement of the king. The old _wlodyka_ of Dlugolas came and
summoned Zbyszko to the princess.
"You will serve Danusia and me at the table as my courtier," said the
princess. "It may happen that you will please the king by some facetious
word or deed, and the Krzyzak if he recognize you, will not complain to
the king, seeing that you serve me at the king's table."
Zbyszko kissed the princess' hand. Then he turned to Danusia; and
although he was more accustomed to battles than to the manners of the
court, still he evidently knew what was befitting a knight, when he sees
the lady of his thoughts in the morning; he retreated, and assuming an
expression of surprise, and making the sign of the cross, exclaimed:
"In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost!"
Danusia, looking at him with her blue eyes, asked:
"Why do you make the sign of the cross, Zbyszko, after mass is ended?"
"Because your beauty increased so much, during last night, that I am
astonished!"
Mikolaj of Dlugolas, who did not like the new, foreign customs of
chivalry, shrugged his shoulders and said:
"Don't lose time talking to her about her beauty! She is only a bush
hardly grown up from the soil."
At this Zbyszko looked at him with rancor.
"You must be careful about calling her a 'bush,'" said he, turning pale
with anger; "if you were younger, I would challenge you immediately and
would fight until either you or I were dead!"
"Keep quiet, you beardless boy! I can manage you even to-day!"
"Be quiet!" said the princess. "Instead of thinking about your own
danger, you are seeking a quarrel! I would prefer to find a more steady
knight for Danusia. If you wish to foam, go where you please; but we do
not need you here."
Zbyszko felt abashed at the princess' words and began to apologize. But
he thought to himself that if Pan Mikolaj of Dlugolas had a grown-up son,
then sometime he would challenge the son and would not forgive Mikolaj
for calling her "bush." Now he determined to be quiet while in the king's
castle and not to provoke anybody, only in case of absolute necessity.
The blowing of horns announced that breakfast was ready; therefore the
Princess Anna taking Danusia by the hand, went to the king's apartments,
where the lay-dignitaries and the knights, stood awaiting her arrival.
Princess Ziemowita entered first, because being the king's sister, she
occupied a higher seat at the table. Soon the hall was filled with
guests, dignitaries and knights. The king was seated at the upper end of
the table, having near him Wojciech Jastrzembiec, bishop of Krakow, the
bishop, although inferior in rank to the other priests wearing mitres,
was seated at the right hand of the king because he was the pope's envoy.
The two princesses took the next places. Near Anna Danuta, the former
archbishop of Gniezno, Jan, was comfortably seated in a large chair. He
was a descendant of the Piasts of Szlonsk and the son of Bolko, Prince of
Opole. Zbyszko had heard of him at the court of Witold; and now while
standing behind the princess and Danusia, he recognized the archbishop by
his abundant hair which being curled, made his head look like a
_kropidlo_.[45] At the courts of the Polish princes, they called him