Pagina 37 de 788

Here Kosciuszko,4 in his Cracow coat,5 with his eyes raised to

heaven, held his two-handed sword; such was he when on the steps

of the altar he swore that with this sword he would drive the

three powers from Poland or himself would fall upon it. Farther

on sat Rejtan,6 in Polish costume, mourning the loss of liberty;

in his hands he held a knife with the point turned against his

breast, and before him lay Phaedo and The Life of Cato. Still

farther on Jasinski,7 a fair and melancholy youth, and his

faithful comrade Korsak8 stand side by side on the entrenchments

of Praga, on heaps of Muscovites, hewing down the enemies of

their country-but around them Praga is already burning.

He recognised even the tall old musical clock in its wooden case

near the chamber door, and with childish joy he pulled at the

string, in order to hear Dombrowski's old mazurka.71