The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
Having said this, Macko stood up and began to undress; but Zbyszko arose
also, stopped him and said:
"I will not do it, so help me God and Holy Cross."
"Why?" asked Macko, astonished.
"Because I will not!"
Macko became pale with anger.
"I wish you had never been born!"
"You told the castellan," said Zbyszko, "that you would give your head in
exchange for mine."
"How do you know that?"
"The _Pan_ of Taczew told me."
"What of it?"
"What of it? The castellan told you that disgrace would fall on me and on
all my family Would it not be a still greater disgrace, if I escaped from
here, and left you to the vengeance of the law?"
"What vengeance? What can the law do to me, when I must die just the
same? Have common sense, for God's mercy!"
"May God punish me if I abandon you now when you are old and sick. Tfu!
shame!"
There was silence; one could only hear the heavy, hoarse breathing of
Macko, and the archers' calls.
"Listen," Macko said, finally, in broken tones, "it was not shameful for
_Kniaz_ Witold to escape from Krewo; it would not be for you, either."
"Hej!"' answered Zbyszko, with sadness "You know! _Kniaz_ Witold is a
great _kniaz_; he received a crown from the king's hand, also riches and
dominion; but I, a poor nobleman, have only my honor."
After a while he exclaimed in a sudden burst of anger:
"Then you do not understand that I love you, and that I will not give
your head instead of mine?"
At this, Macko stood on his trembling feet, stretched out his hands, and
although the nature of the people of those days, was hard, as if forged
of iron, he cried suddenly in a heartbroken voice:
"Zbyszku!"
CHAPTER VIII.
The next day, the court servants began to make preparations in the market
square, to build the scaffold which was to be erected opposite the
principal gate of the city hall.
The princess, however, was still consulting with Wojciech Jastrzembiec,
Stanislaw of Skarbimierz and other learned canons, who were familiar with
the written laws and also with the laws sanctioned by custom.
She was encouraged in these efforts by the castellan's words, when he
said, that if they showed him "law or pretext," he would free Zbyszko.
Therefore they consulted earnestly, to ascertain if there were any law or
custom that would do. Although the _ksiondz_ Stanislaw, had prepared
Zbyszko for death and administered the last sacraments, he went directly
from the prison to the consultation, which lasted almost till daybreak.
The day of execution arrived. From early morning, crowds of people had
begun to gather on the market square, because the decapitation of a
nobleman excited more curiosity than that of a common criminal. The
weather was beautiful. News of the youth and great beauty of the
sentenced man, spread among the women. Therefore the whole road leading
to the castle, was filled with crowds of townswomen, dressed in their
best; in the windows on the market square, and on the balconies, could be
seen velvet bonnets, or the fair heads of young girls, ornamented only
with wreaths of lilies and roses. The city councilors, although the
affair did not belong in their jurisdiction, all appeared, in order to
show their importance and placed themselves near the scaffold. The
knights, wishing to show their sympathy for the young man, gathered in
great numbers around the elevation. Behind them swarmed the gayly dressed
crowd, composed of small merchants and artisans dressed in their guild
costumes. Over this compact mass of human heads, one could see the
scaffold which was covered with new broadcloth. On the elevation stood
the executioner, a German, with broad shoulders, dressed in a red
_kubrak_ and on his head a cowl of the same color; he carried a heavy
two-edged sword; with him were two of his assistants with naked arms and
ropes at their girdles. There were also a block and a coffin covered with
broadcloth. In Panna Maryia's tower, the bells were ringing, filling the
town with metallic sounds and scaring the flocks of doves and jackdaws.
The people looked at the scaffold, and at the executioner's sword
protruding from it and shining in the sun. They also looked at the
knights, on whom the burghers always gazed with respect and eagerness.
This time it was worth while looking at them. The most famous knights
were standing round the elevation. They admired the broad shoulders and
dark hair, falling in abundant curls of Zawisza Czarny; they admired the
short square figure of Zyndram of Maszkow as well as the gigantic stature
of Paszko Zlodziej of Biskupice; the threatening face of Wojciech of
Wodzinek and the great beauty of Dobko of Olesnica, who at the tournament
in Torun had defeated twelve knights; they looked admiringly at Zygmunt
of Bobowa, who became equally famous in Koszyce in a fight with the
Hungarians, at Krzon of Kozieglowy, at Lis of Targowisko, who was
victorious in duels, and at Staszko of Charbimowice who was able to catch
a running horse.
General attention was also attracted by the pale face of Macko of
Bogdanice; he was supported by Floryan of Korytnica and Marcin of
Wrocimowice. It was generally thought that he was the sentenced man's
father.
But the greatest curiosity was aroused by Powala of Taczew who, standing
in front, was holding Danusia, dressed in white, with a wreath of green
rue resting on her fair hair. The people did not understand what it
meant, nor why this young girl was present to look at the execution. Some
of them thought she was a sister; others, that she was the knight's lady;
but none were able to explain the meaning of her dress or of her presence
at the scaffold. The sight of her fair face covered with tears, aroused
commiseration and emotion. The people began to criticise the castellan's
stubbornness, and the severity of the laws. Those criticisms gradually
changed to threats. Finally, here and there, some voices were heard to
say, that if the scaffold were destroyed, then the execution would be
postponed.
The crowd became eager and excited. They said that if the king were
present, he would surely pardon the youth.
But all became quiet when distant shoutings announced the approach of the
king's archers, escorting the prisoner. The procession soon appeared in
the market square. It was preceded by a funeral fraternity, the members
of which were dressed in long black cloaks, and were covered with veils
of the same color, which had openings cut for the eyes. The people were
afraid of these gloomy figures and became silent. They were followed by a
detachment of soldiers, armed with crossbows, and dressed in elk-skin
jerkins; these were the king's Lithuanian guards. Behind them one could
see the halberds of another detachment of soldiers. In the centre,
between the clerk of the court, who was going to read the sentence, and
the _ksiondz_ Stanislaw of Skarbimierz who was carrying a crucifix,
walked Zbyszko.
All eyes now turned toward him, and at all the windows and from all the
balconies, women's heads protruded. Zbyszko was dressed in his white
"_jaka_," embroidered with golden griffins and ornamented with gold
galoon; in these magnificent clothes he looked like a young prince, or
the page of a wealthy court. His broad shoulders and chest and his
powerful haunches indicated that he was already a full-grown man; but
above that strong figure of a man, appeared a childish face with down on
the upper lip. It was a beautiful face like that of a king's page, with
golden hair cut evenly over the eyebrows and falling on the shoulders. He
walked erect, but was very pale. From time to time he looked at the crowd
as if he was dreaming; he looked at the church towers, toward the flocks
of jackdaws, and at the bells, ringing his last hour; then his face
expressed amazement when he realized that the sobbing of the women, and
all this solemnity was for him. Finally, he perceived the scaffold and
the executioner's red figure standing on it. Then he shivered and made
the sign of the Cross; the priest gave him the crucifix to kiss. A few
steps further, a bouquet of roses thrown by a young girl, fell at his
feet. Zbyszko stooped, picked up the bouquet and smiled at the girl who
began to cry. But evidently he thought that, amidst these crowds and in
the presence of these women, waving their kerchiefs from the windows, he
must die courageously and at least leave behind him the reputation of "a
brave man;" therefore he strained his courage and will to the utmost.
With a sudden movement, he threw his hair back, raised his head still
higher and walked proudly, almost like a conqueror, whom, according to
knightly custom, they conduct to get the prize. The procession advanced
slowly, because the crowd was dense and unwillingly made way. In vain the
Lithuanian guard, marching in front, shouted: "_Eyk szalin! Eyk szalin!_
go away!" The people did not wish to understand these words, and
surrounded the soldiers more closely. Although about one-third of the
burghers of Krakow were Germans, still there were heard on all sides,
threats against the Knights of the Cross: "Shame! Shame! May they perish,
those wolves! Must they cut off children's heads for them! Shame on the
king and on the kingdom!" The Lithuanians seeing the resistance, took
their crossbows from their shoulders, and menaced the crowd; but they did
not dare to attack without orders. The captain sent some men to open the
way with their halberds and in that manner they reached the knights
standing around the scaffold.
They stepped aside without any resistance. The men with halberds entered
first, and were followed by Zbyszko, accompanied by the priest and the
clerk of the court. At that moment something happened which nobody had
expected. From among the knights, Powala stepped forward with Danusia in
his arms and shouted: "Stop!" with such a powerful voice, that the
retinue stopped at once, as if rooted to the ground. Neither the captain,
nor any of the soldiers dared to oppose the lord and knight, whom they
were accustomed to see every day in the castle and often in confidential
conversation with the king. Finally, other knights, equally
distinguished, also began to shout with commanding voices:
"Stop! Stop!" In the meantime, the _Pan_ of Taczew approached Zbyszko and
handed Danusia to him.
Zbyszko caught her in his arms and pressed her to his chest, bidding her
farewell; but Danusia instead of nestling to him and embracing him,
immediately took her white veil from her head and wrapped it around
Zbyszko's head, and began to cry in her tearful, childish voice:
"He is mine! He is mine!"
"He is hers!" shouted the powerful voices of the knights. "To the
castellan!"
A shout, like the roar of thunder, answered: "To the castellan! To the
castellan!" The priest raised his eyes, the clerk looked confused, the
captain and his soldiers dropped their arms; everybody understood what
had happened.
There was an old Polish and Slavonic custom, as strong as the law, known
in Podhale, around Krakow, and even further. If a young girl threw her
veil on a man conducted to death, as a sign that she wished to marry him,
by so doing she saved his life. The knights, farmers, villagers and
townsmen all knew this custom; and the Germans living in the old cities
and towns, had heard about it. The old man, Macko, almost fainted with
emotion; the knights having pushed away the guards, surrounded Zbyszko
and Danusia; the joyful people shouted again and again: "To the
castellan! To the castellan!"
The crowd moved suddenly, like the waves of the sea. The executioner and
his assistants rushed down from the scaffold. Everybody understood that
if Jasko of Tenczyn resisted the custom, there would be a riot in the
city. In fact the people now rushed to the scaffold. In the twinkling of