"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: