Saint Nina, together with the bishop, left for the mountain regions, and the Tsar ordered the kristav (most likely district governor) to accompany them. Upon arriving at Tsorbanne, they called together the mountaineers, inspected Dsrbin, Tchartal, Tkkhela, Tsilkammy, and Gorangor. They a.s.sembled the Tchartalians, who were almost like wild beasts, the Fkholians, the Gondamakavians, and to all these tribes they preached about the holy cross of Christ. But they did not want to listen, and so the royal kristav drew his sword and destroyed their idols and subjected them.

From there they went into Yaletia (the present Mtaletka) and taught the nations of Tionet and Ertso (in Armenian Erdzoitk), who received them well and were baptized, but the Fkholis (nowadays the Pchaves), settled over to Doushet. The remaining mountain inhabitants also refused to become Christians, for which the Tsar doubled their taxes and thus forced them to emigrate. It is true later on, Saint Avive, bishop of Nekretsa, converted several of them to Christianity, while the rest are even to this day infidels. Saint Nina started for Ranne in order to enlighten Pkeros, but as she approached Kouket and reached Bondi, she was obliged to make a longer stop. Kakhetians streamed there in great number, questioned her and many became persuaded in the correctness and truthfulness of her teachings. At Bondi, however, she fell ill. Hardly had the news of this deplorable event reached Revv and Salome, who lived at Oudjarmo, when they hastened to the Saint and also informed the Tsar and Tsaritsa. The sovereign gave orders that Bishop John should bring over the Saint, but she really preferred to remain where she was, and so the Tsar set out for Bondi with a numerous suite.

The whole nation rushed to the invalid, whose glance was illuminated with true heavenly brilliancy. With love and veneration did the true believers cut off little bits of pieces from her garment and covered their souvenir with kisses. The Tsaritsa and the princesses crowded around her, showering blessings upon her, and with tears and sorrow they looked forward to their separation from their teacher, protector, and healer. The Princess Salome, Kherosh Avrizounelle (in Armenian Perojavr Sounetsi), the kristaves and mtavares began to implore the Saint to relate her life to them, saying:

"Who art thou? How didst thou come into our kingdom to save us? Who was thy instructor? O mistress, do let us know the history of thy life! Why shouldst thou speak of captivity--O thou happy, happy Tsaritsa, who hast delivered us from the burdens of captivity? For through thee we found out that the Son of G.o.d had been predicted by prophets, that after Him the work of spreading the new faith was carried out by twelve apostles, and as many as seventy-two pupils. But of all this immense number, thou alone wert given and sent unto us by G.o.d. Why in the world dost thou then call thyself a prisoner and foreigner?" Then the Saint continued:

"Children of the Faith, Tsaritsa and princesses--all ye who are surrounding me, I now see that you may be compared with the ancient women in their faith and love to Christ. You desire to know the biography of His insignificant servant. I consent, for I feel that my end is approaching and I shall sleep the eternal sleep in which she who gave birth to me is already resting. Take ye then the inkstand and write up the history of my life, so that your children shall discover how great your faith in G.o.d was, how constant and unchangeable your love to me and what wonders you were allowed to be witnesses of."

Then the Princess Salomee and Kherosh Avrizounelle began to record the events, while the Saint related to them all that we have here undertaken to describe. She advised the Tsar to replace Bishop John by the priest Jacob when the time should come. John held a final ma.s.s, and Nina received from his hands the Holy Communion, after which she gave up her most righteous soul to the Lord of Heaven and earth, in the fifteenth year after her arrival in Georgia, in the year of our Lord three hundred and thirty-nine. Her death caused great sorrow and mourning in Mtzkhet and Oudjarmo. They buried her at Bondi (the present Sidjack) in accordance with the sworn oath which she had received from the Tsar. As this was at that period a little known and unimportant village, the Saint had evidently chosen it from extreme humility. The Tsar and his n.o.blemen were deeply grieved by this choice, but of course did not venture to oppose her last will.

V. THE DIAMOND

A LEGEND

At the time of Tsar Artchill the First, who was married to Marion, the daughter of the Greek Emperor Julian (363 A. D.), many Greeks settled over into Georgia, among them the painter Martin. To his care the inner ornamentation of the church of Stephan Tsminda (i.e., of Saint Stephen) was left. This great house of worship had been planned and constructed at Mtzkhet by the all honorable Artchill, near the gates of the Aragva, near the towers and bastions erected in its neighborhood for national defence. Martin was a perfectly honorable and reliable man and very clever and gifted in the execution of his orders. The paints which were at his disposal a.s.sumed such a marvellous, nay overwhelming resemblance with reality, that several of the saints represented by them appeared as though they were alive, and astounded faithful and esteemed believers many hundred years after his death. On one of the walls he had undertaken to reproduce the apparition of the most Holy Virgin to Saint Nina. The latter was seen down on her knees stretching out her arms and receiving a holy cross made of fine vineyard branches. The fear, happiness, love to G.o.d and perfectly boundless submission to His holy will were expressed not only in the character features of the Saint, but in every movement, nay, in every fold of her garment. The union of all these various thoughts was above picturesque sciences and naturally called forth the amply justified astonishment of the contemporaries of Martin and of the very latest visitors to the temple. Yes, indeed, the Greek Martin was a great, great artist. And therefore he loved his art so much that it seemed dearer to him than all the world put together, with the exception of his daughter Poullkheria.

At the period when our tale begins, the portrait of Saint Nina was already carefully finished off, and the artist was applying himself over the figure of the most Holy Virgin. As humble as he was clever and ingenious, he alone, it appeared, did not notice the beauty of his productions, and while just then all those standing about were filled with amazement and extreme delight, he sighed while comparing his master works with those shining, marvellous, indescribable, and exceptionally extraordinary pictures which his poetic imagination seemed to behold moving as it were in the air, and which were so dear to his elevated soul. How in the world should he represent the features of the most Holy Virgin?

That was a question which tortured him day and night. Every time he reflected about them he thought he could see the sweet, short, dear face of his daughter, and with terror in his heart he attempted to drive away this imaginary apparition. It seemed to him like some wicked, harsh, impossible insult. Again he did his best to find a proper type which would have nothing earthly about it, and once more that same loving and beloved little face of Poullkheria presented itself to him. At last in perfect despair he went to the Katholikoss (this fully corresponds to the rank of a patriarch), John the Second, imploring counsel and prayer. One day and two nights they fervently prayed together near the holy djouar (thus was named the place near the fountain of tears of Saint Nina, not far from the cross erected in that very vicinity; djouar in reality means cross). On the second morning the Katholikoss ordered the painter to immediately return to his home.

"Lay thyself down at the feet of our great converter," said he, "and go to sleep, for I do heartily believe that in a dream thou art destined to see namely those features in which the most Holy Virgin must be represented!"

Martin went to the place appointed, fulfilled the command of John, and a third time saw the features of Poullkheria; she appeared to him with some especially magnificent heavenly radiance.

"But how shall I reproduce this astonishing light?" murmured the painter, and began to strictly observe the fasts and pray like the ancient prophets and other true servants of the Lord. For a whole week he constantly went through all the different religious services and ate nothing, nor did he drink anything. On Sat.u.r.day, after partaking Communion, he took a meal and lay down with the intention of sleeping under the portrait.

In the dream he beheld already the heavenly Tsaritsa, viz., just as it was customary and necessary to reproduce her. Hastily he jumped up and drew out on the wall with charcoal the all glorious and all impressive picture. This was the very first representation of the kind, and it completely satisfied and pleased the artist himself! The worry which had long been weighing down on him was changed into inexpressible happiness and good fortune, and he hurried to the holy djouar (cross) where with tears he thanked and sang praises unto G.o.d. The following day just at sunrise Martin rose, awoke Poullkheria and led her off with him. Hardly had he arranged her as was his desire, when an unknown youth came up to them.

"Old man!" he said, respectfully bowing, "I also want to work on the image of the Heavenly Queen, instruct me how it is necessary to dispose of thy colors." With great incredulity Martin stared at him. The gorgeous garment, the graceful movements showed plainly that he was a man not accustomed to hard labors. "It is not at all easy to teach how to apply the colors," he answered. "Take off thy expensive and most elegant robe and thy delicate hands will not stand difficult, exhausting work." The youth nevertheless insisted, and Martin having rapidly explained to him what to do, began the work and soon forgot him and Poullkheria and all creation, and was utterly absorbed in his magnificent inner world. In the meantime Poullkheria followed the newcomer. He was a tall, well-built, handsome youth, broad-shouldered with a slender waist, which was pinched in by a fine gold belt with decorations of highly precious stones, and how these various-colored stones played and shone and reflected! when he had placed it on a huge marble piece and he easily and quickly arranged on it a heavy stone, which her father moved from place to place--very slowly and only gradually. The youth did not pay the very least attention to her--he was evidently worried and pulled down by some outside event. Deep sighs from time to time came out of his breast, and in the end Poullkheria remarked that a tear fell unto the edge of the marble slab. It now really seemed as though he as well as Martin had wandered off into some unknown world and had forgotten everything earthly. Martin painted without interruption for seven hours; and in a like manner, without taking any rest, worked the sweet newcomer. Glancing at their indefatigable application, Poullkheria became frightened and feared that her posing might never come to an end, and so began to weep most bitterly. The features of her face suddenly a.s.sumed another look and thus her father began to be thoughtful and remember all that had taken place.

"Enough, my poor darling child!" he said with delicacy, and addressed the youth. Immense spots of paint and b.u.t.ter were now to be seen on various parts of his costly attire, his hair was indeed in the greatest disorder and his face red from exhaustion. Martin really did not know how he should thank and reward him.

"Tell me at least thy name, thou good youth!" he said, turning to the boy.

"Mirdat."

"Why--is it possible?"

"Be silent!" interrupted the youth and went out, but Martin looked after him with inexpressible astonishment. Only in this moment did he recognize in him the Tsarevitch-successor, the great and famous victories of whom the whole East was talking. Yesterday only he had returned from a victorious expedition to Rome, and they were convinced that he would soon start out again. How was it possible that during these very few days of rest he wished to take upon himself such a tiresome and dry work? Afterwards he thoroughly inspected what he had achieved and was perfectly overcome by the number and variety of colors and shades arranged and used by him.

"If he accomplishes his new war as rapidly as the first, I shall have enough colors left up to the time of his return," reflected Martin, and gayly and joyfully went home with his dear little daughter, who all along the route questioned him about Mirdat. Having dined in haste and slept a little, Martin once more continued his labors and was steadily busy until sunset.

Thus the undertaking went on day after day with the difference only that Mirdat no more appeared. It seems that he had left for Movakanne and soon after had pacified it for his father. It is not useless to relate what happened to Mirdat upon his first expedition.

The provinces of Ranna, Movakanne and Aderbadaganne since the most remote times belonged to Georgia, and only during the reign of Tsar Mirdat the Fourth, grandfather of our hero, they came under the control of the Persians. Satrappe Barzabode administrated them. Having taken Ranna, the Tsarevitch-successor Mirdat wished to call out Barzabode in a duel. Barzabode took up his quarters in an abandoned tower beyond the city, but Mirdat surrounded it from evening on--supposing that during the night it would be impossible for him to slip out and escape, and so he resolved to give rest to his exhausted and wornout warriors till morning. In the night he made an inspection tour of his brave camp, and pa.s.sing quite close to the tower on the gra.s.sy slopes, he overheard a sweet conversation. He stood still and paid close attention. The sweet voice, hardly hearable, p.r.o.nounced the word: "Batono!" ("Sir.")

He raised his head and almost fainted from extreme astonishment and delight: on the roof there stood a girl of indescribable beauty. The moon was shining on her and gave her long, regular features some secret mysteriousness and unusual charm. And suddenly her coral mouth opened, and from it poured out a low, inspiring and enchanting speech. She implored the young military commander to save her from the clutches of her very old father.

"Who and what can dare to oppose itself to thee? Thou dost conquer towns and provinces. Thy powerful army defeats and submits even hero princes. Whomsoever or whatsoever thou mayest look at in this world, thou canst always consider it thine own, for it doth not come within thy reach only when thou dost not wish it so. Thou hast wonderful beauty, common sense, mind, strength, and bravery, while I never had anything except a dear father. He prided himself in his warlike glory--thou didst darken it! He had won for himself the entire confidence of the Shah, thou didst destroy it. He boasted about the invincibility of his warriors, while thou didst conquer and baffle them. Thou above all didst have my way of looking at things and my imagination. Thy all powerful type did victoriously enter my soul and doth drive out from it the poor, terribly degraded character of my old father!"

And at these solemn words the beauty fell down on her knees. "O do not tear him away from me!" she murmured, reproachingly, stretching out her arms towards him.

"There will be no duel!" unexpectedly said Mirdat; he turned around and quickly went to his tent. This young lady was the daughter of Barzabode, Sagdoukta. From that moment onwards Mirdat loved her with all the mightiness and emotion of his hero-prince's heart, and there was deep, deep grief and depression in his soul. Was it possible to suppose that the Tsar would permit him to marry the daughter of that satrame, to whose care certain provinces had been intrusted and who of late had been deprived of the right of administrating them?

Having reflected a little he made up his mind to leave a comparatively small number of warriors in the places which he had but just successfully conquered, while with the remaining soldiers he returned to his father in order to ask for fresh instructions. Everywhere they met and received the young conqueror with great ceremony and delight; radiant faces were surrounding him, the joyful cries of the people filled his ears, while in his heart it was all dark and heavy. With unbelievable effort he finally forced himself to answer the general and most hearty greetings constantly showered on him with a caressing smile, and on the following day, when he safely reached his beloved home, he immediately went to continue and work for the glorification of the most Holy Virgin, invoking her a.s.sistance and protection. The same was his object when he reached his native town after his second great victorious campaign in Movakanne. But this time Martin, who had already succeeded in finishing the expression of the face of the Heavenly Queen and having spent some time in reproducing her garment, now took the matter more easily, and indeed, frequently watched and glanced at his busy a.s.sistant. Having noticed the running tears of his daughter, he let Poullkheria go home, and turning to him, asked him what might be the cause of his great sorrow.

"Thou hast helped me so much," said Martin, "that I should really like to render thee some good service, good youth; perhaps my old age makes me fit and enables me to give thee some highly useful counsel."

"Thy grey hair testifies that already long, long ago the time went by when thou wert excited and moved by those thoughts and plans which called forth my tears. n.o.body except the most Holy Virgin is strong enough to make my terrible grief go by, viz., because I love with all my heart a splendid girl to whom the sovereign will never give me his consent to be married."

Saying these words Mirdat went, with a painful expression on his face, but Martin understood this most simple clear explanation quite differently, and through this mistake he let his most honest and loyal soul almost perish. This soul was perfectly clean, enlightened, free of sin, and shining like the most costly diamond.

And so once upon a time, during a dream, some heavenly angels cut out the soul and brought it to the Lord. "O, Vladyka!" they said, "look thou at this brilliant diamond--this is the soul of the Greek man Martin, who hath given up his whole life to the glorification of Thy name. There is not one vice which can possibly obtain admission to or seek refuge in it, for it doth entirely belong to Thee! Looking at it and admiring it, we are frequently thinking that upon the death of Martin this diamond will be fully worthy of ornamenting Thy holy throne."

The sweet, sweet angel voices quieted down, while from the depths of the earth the devilish laughing and ridiculing were heard. "Why dost thou so rejoice--miserable Satan?" asked the guarding angel by order of the Eternal G.o.d.

"Very soon this diamond will be spoiled, darkened, and I shall become the happy possessor of it!" replied the devil. Thereupon,the good angels began to bitterly cry, but the Lord comforted them. He gave commands that the soul should again be placed and fixed in the body of the sleeping painter, and also informed the angels that in case Martin should ever happen to listen to and obey the sly devilish instructions and thus have his soul darkened, that they should find means to bring it back to G.o.d, although it be by the heavy, nay distressing, road of worldly grief and tears.

And quickly the angels descended into the church of Stephen Tsminda (that is of Saint Stephen) and put the blinding diamond back into the slumbering Martin, but after them Satan came up and began to persuade the Greek that his daughter had completely won the heart of the Tsarevitch and that he himself would become a royal father-in-law. And thus at last vanity stained the diamond with dark and dirty spots, its shining lightness began to go out more and more, while the perfectly extraordinary and marvellous beauty seemed to be covering itself with a dark skin, and Martin daily continued to give himself up to worthless vain thoughts. And see, the diamond was decaying and would soon lose all of its unusual qualities. In the meantime Mirdat conquered and pacified Aderbadaganne.

"What dost thou wish me to give you as a reward for thy highly valuable services?" asked the delighted, enthusiastic Artchill. Mirdat reverently fell down on one knee and kissing the lower end of the royal garment, asked for permission to be married to the daughter of the conquered satrappe. The loving father replied with an amused smile: "As long as thou didst administrate Ranna, Movakanne, and Aderbadaganne, Sagdoukta seemed to have hold of thy heart, and it seems to me that the very best way for thee to get out of this dangerous position is to claim the honor of obtaining her hand!"

Immediately an emba.s.sy was dispatched to Barzabodus, who received it with indescribable joy and delight. Sagdoukta, supplied with a most gorgeous trousseau and dowry, was conducted to Mtzkhet where the marriage ceremony was performed and the innumerable fetes connected with it continued for many days. The Tsar gave his son the city of Samshrilde with the province surrounding it. Besides through her beauty, Sagdoukta distinguished herself still more by her very remarkable mind and, which was in those times rare, a general education.

Mirdat sent for the very wisest and most learned men of his age, living in Samshvillede and intrusted them with translating into Georgian the holy New Testament, and thoroughly explaining it to the Tsarevna Sagdoukta, who already fully believed in our Lord Jesus Christ, and having gone through and accepted the holy baptism, intended to have a cathedral of Zion erected at Samshvillede. For the planning of the inner walls a most precise and talented artist was necessary.

Mirdat just then remembered his old friend Martin, and sent some attendants to look for him. But when their point of destination was reached, he was no longer among the living. He had succeeded in finishing his work in the church of Stephen-Tsminda at the time of the last campaign of the Tsarevitch in Aderbadaganne, received a right royal reward from Artchill, but instead of returning to Greece as would have seemed natural, he remained at Mtzkhet, hoping to bring them to a favorable issue.

He daily went to the merchants of gorgeous weavings, chose the most precious objects, and composed of them a most valuable and rich costume for his Poullkheria.

The very most talented and experienced tailors under his personal direction were employed in ornamenting with and sewing on these garments precious stones of one exquisite color, and besides that jewels. Trying first one thing, then another on his beloved Poullkheria, for whole hours at a time he watched and interested himself in her superhuman beauty, and with full confidence displayed before her the pictures of her future greatness. On hearing all these compliments and glorious prophecies the shining eyes of Poullkheria lit up with still greater joyfulness. Her clean heart could not understand or appreciate the many foolishly vain thoughts and intentions of her father. She loved Mirdat, indeed, not because he just happened to be the son of a King, but on account of his bravery, goodness and perfect honesty. That was why, notwithstanding exceedingly powerful temptations, the soul of Poullkheria remained as neat, without a sin and immaculate as when she had not had such notions; but Martin's soul daily lost its splendor and became covered all over with dark, dark spots.

In the end Mtzkhet was bursting with joy, for a report spread from one quarter to another that Aderbadaganne had been successfully taken by storm. Triumphant receptions were now universally prepared for the great victor, and young and old rushed into the street with colored flags or flower branches in their hands. Poullkheria in her newest attire, and by her very side Martin, stood on the steps of the church of Stephen-Tsminda (i.e., of Saint Stephen).

When the powerful procession came up to them, the Tsarevitch got off his horse and went into the empty temple. Martin, unnoticed, followed on after him and clearly beheld how he went straight to the finished image of the most Holy Virgin and having fallen on his knees was fervently praying. When, however, the prayer being over, the Tsarevitch rose, Martin ran up to him and quickly whispered in his ear:

"This great day the Tsar, my master, will not refuse thee anything."

But the Tsarevitch, persuaded that he alone was in the church, was evidently and most visibly struck and moved by this unexpected witness of his all hearty and sincere prayer. He did not recognize Martin, did not remember even his words, but hastened with all his might to go out of the church, while Martin thought that his own affairs were taking an unusually pleasant turn and greatly rejoiced. A few days went by, on the large square of the city a glashatai (kind of herald) made his appearance with a number of trumpeters, and having called together the people, they formally announced to them the coming marriage of the Tsarevitch-successor Mirdat to Sagdoukta, the daughter of the Persian satrappe (probably district governor) Barzabode.

A slight noise was heard, and a moment thereafter a cry which was sharp enough to tear one's soul to pieces and which attracted general attention. On the ground lay Poullkheria, not showing any signs of life. A thin, pale colored rivulet of young boiling blood was slowly coming out of her mouth. Kneeling before her was Martin, who, indeed, was giving himself every possible trouble to stop the abundant flow of blood. Somebody out of the crowd was desirous of running to help her, but he looked back with a really terrified glance, and like a regular madman, having seized her in his vigorous arms, rushed off with her to Stephen Tsminda. Here he placed her at the foot of that wonderful picture for the execution of which she had served as a model and completely lost his senses. And, nay!--he actually saw how the cupola moved and opened itself, and how two angels gradually approached Poullkheria. In their hands there was just as grand a kind of a white transparent, indescribably magnificent garment as the one which dazzled their eyes.