With Fire and Sword: An Historical Novel of Poland and Russia

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Little, Brown, 1890 - Cossacks - 779 pages
 

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User Review  - Clarencex - LibraryThing

This book, and all this authors books (I've read about 4000 pages of this guy so far, but I still can't spell his name) are terrific reads. This one is the first of a set that it probably unique in ... Read full review

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User Review  - Neilsantos - LibraryThing

So I saw the movie to this a few years ago with some of you folks out there. Its like the Polish version of the Three Musketeers (except of course, there are four of them. Three Poles and a ... Read full review

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Page 717 - Lady," and it stuck in his shoulder. The words of the litany mingled with the whistling of arrows; and when Pan Longin had said " Morning Star, " arrows were standing in his shoulders, in his side, in his legs. The blood from his temples was flowing into his eyes; he saw as through a mist the field and the Tartars; he heard no longer the whistle of the arrows. He felt that he was weakening, that his legs were bending under him; his head dropped on his breast. At last he fell on his knees. Then he...
Page 717 - At the sight of the bows, and of the arrows poured out at the feet of his enemies from their quivers, Pan Longin saw that the moment of death was at hand, and he began the litany to the Most Holy Lady. It became still. The crowds restrained their breath, waiting for what would happen. The first arrow whistled, as Pan Longin was saying, " Mother of the Redeemer ! >( and it scratched his temple.
Page 707 - Oh, it is hard to live in this world! Pan Longin, are you really going out? May the angels guard you! If the plague would choke those ruffians!" "I must take farewell of you," said Podbipienta. " How is that ? Where are you going ?" asked Zagloba. "To the priest Mukhovetski,— to confess, my brother. I must cleanse my sinful soul." Pan Longin hastened to the castle; the others returned to the ramparts. Skshetuski and Volodyovski were silent, but Zagloba said: — " Something holds me by the throat....
Page 716 - answered the Tartars. " A div ! " repeated the crowd. " A Pole ! A div ! Take him alive, alive ! " Pan Longin fired twice from his pistols, but those reports could not be heard by his comrades in the Polish camp. Now the crowd approached him in a half-circle. He was standing in the shade, gigantic, supported by the tree, and he waited with sword in hand.
Page 706 - interrupted Skshetuski. "This is my will and command," said Yeremi with emphasis. " To bring you to agreement, I say that he shall go first who offered himself first." " It was I ! " cried Pan Longin with a beaming face. * To-night, after the storm, if it is dark, " added the prince. " I will give no letters to the King: you will tell what you have seen, — merely take a signet-ring as credential.
Page 711 - And how many good men of ours have bitten the dust!" " O Lord!" said another voice, " they say the King is not far. What will become of us ?" "The Khan got angry with our father; and the Tartars threaten to take us, if there will be no other prisoners.
Page 244 - God save me ! more than one knight would willingly lay aside his armor if he only had such an attendant as you ; and I know one hussar who would certainly. But we must do something with that hair. I saw handsome boys in Stamboul, but never one so handsome as you are.
Page 124 - ... deputation from the Brotherhood sat farther away near the walls. Conversation had ceased ; only from the crowd outside, debating under the open sky, came a murmur and dull sound like the noise of waves. Hmelnitski began to speak : — " Gentlemen, with the favor, attention, and aid of the serene Tsar of the Crimea, the lord of many peoples and relative of the heavenly hosts ; with the permission of his Majesty the gracious King Vladislav, our lord, and the hearty support of the brave Zaporojian...
Page 401 - O my God, thy mercies are above all thy works, and thou wilt not despise a contrite and humble heart: and therefore I here venture to come into thy temple, and with the poor publican I strike my breast and say, O God, be merciful to me a sinner; 0 God, be merciful to me a sinner; O God, be merciful to me a sinner. And I humbly hope to find this mercy which I crave, through that passion and death which is here celebrated. O fountain of mercy, grant this mercy to me and to all poor sinners. Amen.
Page 128 - ... his forehead ; he understood that there was no rescue for him now. As to young Barabash, it was clear that in destroying him Hmelnitski wished to avenge himself on the old colonel of Cherkasi, who loved his nephew deeply. Still Tatarchuk did not wish to die. He would not have paled before the saber, the bullet, or the stake ; but a death such as that which awaited him pierced him to the marrow of his bones. Therefore, taking advantage of a moment of quiet which reigned after the words of Hmelnitski,...

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