Stop it, damn it!
Let’s talk. Stop! Who’s that? The Banneret of Orsha,
Andrzej Kmicic. Who am I speaking to? – Colonel Michal Jerzy Wolodyjowski.
– Ave! No time for greetings. You ruffian! These people have a bone to pick with you. You have to account for the blood of innocent people and the abduction of the young lady! You wouldn’t call me a ruffian, if the door was open. Open it then! Listen carefully. I’ve got a barrel of powder here. Leave me alone or I’ll blow up the house and everybody in it. He’s a madman capable of doing it. Come out and fight with me. If you win, you’ll go free. – A nobleman’s word?
– I swear. No! Don’t do it! Silence, damn it! If i don’t do it, he’ll blow us all up. Well, did the poor gentry agree? They’ll swear by their swords, if you like. Let them swear. Come together, gentlemen! I take all of you as witnesses that I’ve challenged Sir Kmicic to a duel, and I’ve promised he’ll go free, if he wins. Without any obstacles from you. Take the oath! I swear to God Almighty… …and the Holy Cross… Amen. Come out! Well?! I’ve trusted your word. – Which one is Colonel Wolodyjowski?
– I am. Well, you’re not a giant. – Where do we fight?
– Here. All right. I feel sorry for you. I’ve heard you’re a great soldier. Therefore I’m warning you for the last time: leave me alone. – Stand your ground!
– You asked for it. Shall we wait until the drizzle stops? It’s all the same to me. It’s a pity to die in such a heavy rain. A Colonel is going to be buried, so the sky is weeping. Let’s begin. You swing your sword like a flail. Pick it up! Pick it up. Finish it, Sir, spare me the shame. He’s alive, he hasn’t fallen on his back. Now he’s mine, not yours. No butchering. We’re knights. One doens’t slaughter the wounded. Dress his wound.