Witek–Józka

Witek and Józka’s bond comes into sharp focus during Józka’s week-long, feverish illness. Shut away in a darkened room and kept from visitors, she depends on Witek not only for small acts of care but also for company, distraction, and a familiar presence. Their scenes move between play and distress: he tries to make her laugh, while she responds to the creatures he brings with tenderness that reflects her own helplessness. As her condition worsens, his attention remains steady even when his efforts can no longer amuse her.

Illness and dependence

Józka lies swollen and covered in spots, unable to move. She had begged to be carried into the orchard, but as she grew worse Jagustynka forbade taking her outside and insisted she remain in the dark. In Jagustynka’s care, Józka is also isolated: children and friends are turned away, leaving the household to look in on her while she lies alone. Her physical confinement shapes the closeness with Witek. He can enter, stay, listen, and bring the outside world into the room in the form of animals, fruit, and news.

One early errand shows how even a small kindness has to pass through others. Józka asks Hanka to give her piglet to Nastusia, hoping Nastusia will say a prayer for her; because Hanka hesitates to go herself, Witek is sent to deliver it. Józka insists that he make clear the gift is from her and urges him to return quickly, explaining that she cannot move. The errand gives her a way to act beyond the bed despite her dependence, while Witek carries out her request and brings back Nastusia’s delighted response.

Witek as companion and caretaker

Witek’s care is practical as well as affectionate. Hanka leaves him in the cottage to help Józka while Kłąb’s Maciuś watches the cows alongside his own. At first Witek finds the arrangement tedious and longs for the woods and his freedom. His reluctance gives way to pity: he becomes so concerned for Józka that he would gladly fetch her the moon, and he repeatedly tries to think of something that might entertain her or make her laugh.

His attention includes the ordinary rhythms of bedside care. He sits with her for hours, uses a branch to keep flies away, and gives her water. When she speaks anxiously or mistakes what she hears and sees, he stays close enough to answer. She recognizes him at once even in a hazy, dreamlike state, and asks whether he has taken the sow and what Nastusia said. The contrast is telling: household sounds and visits seem to pass without leaving a clear impression, but Witek’s arrival is immediately meaningful to her.

Animals, imagination, and compassion

Witek tries a succession of living distractions. He brings a brood of young partridges and invites Józka to stroke them. Once her hands are untied, she presses the frightened birds to her face and eyes, then urges him to release them because their souls are pounding with fear. Witek protests that he tracked them down himself, but lets them go. The exchange turns his attempt to amuse her into an act of mercy shaped by her response.

A young hare brings a brief burst of laughter. Józka cradles it against her breast and speaks to it as a little orphan taken from its mother. When it struggles free and races through the hallway, past Łapa and out into the orchard, Witek follows in the commotion. Hanka comes running from the farmyard, and Józka laughs heartily. Her concern returns at once in the question of whether the dog caught the hare; Witek reassures her that it escaped into the wheat. For a moment, she is not only receiving care but joining Witek in concern for another vulnerable creature.

He continues to bring what he can: quails, a hedgehog, a tame squirrel, young swallows, and smuggled apples and pears. These episodes make Witek’s inventiveness visible, but they also show the limits of distraction. Józka sometimes asks him to return the animals, and later she turns away from the offerings with boredom and indifference. Even the household stork, pecking among the pots, fails to interest her. Only when Witek brings a live bee-eater does she brighten, admiring its beauty.

Changing fortunes within the room

Józka’s illness alters the meaning of their shared play. Her fever makes her speak as if ordinary sounds and images were immediate threats: she cries out about sheep trampling her, worries about sparrows under the roof, and warns Witek not to let the greyling be hurt. She also imagines defying Hanka’s prohibition on attending Nastusia’s wedding, planning what to wear and whom she will dance with. Witek hears these shifting fragments without abandoning his place beside her; he keeps watch while she sleeps and responds to the needs she voices.

The relationship is therefore not a simple story of successful cheering. Witek’s gifts sometimes bring laughter, but they cannot keep Józka’s attention or restore her strength. As her interest fades, the contrast between his persistent effort and her growing indifference becomes more pronounced. The evidence ends with her delight at the bee-eater, a small return of animation rather than a resolution of the illness. Across these scenes, Witek’s companionship offers Józka moments of contact with the living world beyond her darkened bed, while her tenderness toward frightened birds and an orphaned hare gives his care a form she can answer in turn.