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Updated: May 5, 2025
“It is the truth,” cried Robak, “as God is in Heaven!” “Blessed be the lips that bring these tidings!” said the Judge, raising his hands on high. “You shall not regret your mission, Robak; your monastery shall not regret it; two hundred choice sheep I give to your monastery.
The Judge carried out Robak’s instructions and sat down on the bed beside him; but Gerwazy remained standing, resting his elbow on the pommel of his sword, and leaning his bent brow on his hands. Robak, before beginning to speak, riveted his gaze on the face of the Warden and remained mysteriously silent.
The victorious gentry ran with a cry of joy, some to the casks, others to tear booty from the enemy; Robak alone did not share their exultation. And now he shouted for them to assemble around him, attack Rykov, and complete the victory.
Forward, brother Lithuanians! hurrah! hurrah for Lithuania!” And the Skolubas, seeing how the valiant Razor, despite his wound, was dashing on with his sabre raised aloft, cried: “Hurrah for the Macieks! long live the Masovians!” Inspiring one another with courage, they ran upon the Muscovites; in vain Robak and Maciek tried to restrain them.
The ingenious Robak, seeing that the conversation was thus becoming scattered, undertook again to gather it to a focus—to his snuffbox: he treated them, they sneezed and wished one another good health; he continued his speech:— “When the Emperor Napoleon in an engagement takes snuff time after time, it is a sure sign that he is winning the battle.
But as a surgeon first lays a gentle hand on the body of a sick man before he makes a cut with the knife, so Robak softened the expression of his sharp eyes, which he allowed to hover for a long time over the eyes of Gerwazy; finally, as if he wished to strike a blind blow, he covered his eyes with his hand and said with a powerful voice:— “I am Jacek Soplica.”
With the character of this person the description of Jacek Soplica’s early years agrees as closely as his name. Yet one of that hated family he now made the hero of his greatest poem. By introducing him in the guise of Father Robak, repentant and striving to atone for past misdeeds through heroic service to his country, he infused into his poem a romantic charm.
And after all that I have told you will you sit calmly, folding your hands, when one must act?” “Act? How?” asked the Judge. “Have you not yet read it in my eyes?” replied Robak. “Does your heart still tell you nothing?
All divined that Father Robak, the Alms-Gatherer, had arrived. So the Judge, knowing his duty as host, took his stand on the threshold, to welcome the guest. The Monk rode on the first wain, his face half hidden by his cowl; but they immediately recognised him, for, when he passed the prisoners, he turned his countenance towards them and made a sign to them with his finger.
Robak, pressing the lad’s brow to his breast and hying his palms crosswise on his head, gazed aloft and said: “My son, may God be with you!” Then he began to weep. But Thaddeus was already beyond the threshold. “What, brother?” asked the Judge, “will you tell him nothing? not even now? Shall the poor lad still remain in ignorance, now that he is going to leave us!”
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