HEROIC 
 BALLADS 
 
 OF 
 
 SER.VIA 
 
 GEORGE RAPALL 
 And LEONARD BACON
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO
 
 _ _ ~*~~ **^t 
 
 K*
 
 HEROIC BALLADS 
 OF SERVIA 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE 
 
 BY 
 GEORGE RAPALL NOYES 
 
 AND 
 
 LEONARD BACON 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 
 1913
 
 COPYBIGHT, 1913 
 
 SHERMAN, FRENCH 6" COMPANY
 
 PREFACE 
 
 The purpose of the present volume is to give 
 specimens of the best portions of a ballad litera- 
 ture that is among the most remarkable in Europe. 
 For the translation of the ballads from the 
 Servian, and for the introduction and notes, I am 
 responsible ; Mr. Bacon has transformed my prose 
 texts into English verse. Each of us, however, 
 has of course made suggestions as to the work of 
 the other. 
 
 Most of the material in the introduction I have 
 taken from Karajich (see below, pp. 10, 11), 
 and from the concise Sketch of Servian Literature 
 (in Servian) of Professor Popovich (Belgrade, 
 1909). For various minor details in the book as 
 a whole I am indebted to several previous transla- 
 tors from the Servian and writers on Servia and 
 its literature; to be exact, to Bowring, Servian 
 Popular Poetry (London, 1827) ; Elodie Lawton 
 Mijatovich, Kossovo (London, 1881) ; D'Avril, La 
 Bataille de Kossovo (Paris, 1868) ; Vogl, Marko 
 Kraljevits (Vienna, 1851) ; Chedo Mijatovich, 
 Servia and the Servians (Boston, Page, 1908); 
 Lazarovich-Hrebelianovich, The Servian People 
 (New York, Scribner, 1910); W. Miller, The 
 Balkans (New York, Putnam, 1896); Ranke,
 
 Serbien und die Tiirkei im neunzehnten JdhrJvun- 
 dert (Leipzig, 1879; also translated by Kerr, 
 London, 1847). To Messrs. Charles Scribner's 
 Sons and G. P. Putnam's Sons I am indebted for 
 their courteous permission to reprint passages of 
 some length from the copyright works published 
 by them. 
 
 Next to Karajich and Popovich, however, I owe 
 most to Mr. Milivoy S. Stanoyevich, a graduate 
 of the University of Belgrade, who has aided me 
 in various ways, notably in the selection of the 
 later ballads, in the translation of difficult pas- 
 sages, and in the accentuation of the Servian 
 names. Without his kindly help this volume would 
 be much more imperfect than it is at present. 
 
 G. R. NOTES.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 FACE 
 
 INTRODUCTION 1 
 
 A BALLAD OF SERVIA BEFORE THE 
 TURKISH CONQUEST 
 
 THE BUILDING OF SKADAR ...... 15 
 
 BALLADS OF K6SOVO FIELD 
 
 THE BUILDING OF RAVANITSA 27 
 
 BAN STRAHIN 82 
 
 TSAR LAZAR AND TSARITSA M/LITSA .... 60 
 
 FRAGMENTS OF Kosovo BALLADS 68 
 
 THE BATTLE OF Kosovo 77 
 
 How MILOSH CBILICH SLEW THE SULTAN MURAD 81 
 
 MUSICH STEVAN 88 
 
 THE DEATH OF THE MOTHER OF THE YUGOVICHI 94 
 
 TSARITSA MILITSA AND VLADETA THE VOYVODA 97 
 
 THE MAID OF K6sovo 99 
 
 THE HEAD OF TSAR LAZAR 105 
 
 BALLADS OF MARKO KRALYEVICH 
 
 UROSH AND THE SONS OF MARNYAVA . . . .111 
 
 PRINCE MARKO AND THE VILA 120 
 
 PRINCE MARKO AND THE SWORD OF VUKASHIN 125 
 
 PRINCE MARKO AND THE EAGLE 130 
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF PRINCE MARKO . . . .133 
 PRINCE MARKO AND ALIL AGA . .145
 
 PAGE 
 
 PRINCE MARKO AND MINA OP KOSTUR . . .152 
 PRINCE MARKO AND BEY KOSTADIN .... 165 
 PRINCE MARKO AND THE DAUGHTER OF THE 
 
 MOORISH KING 168 
 
 PRINCE MARKO'S PLOWING 172 
 
 MARKO DRINKS WINE IN RAMAZAN . . . .174 
 THE DEATH OF MARKO KRALYEVICH . . .178 
 
 BALLADS OF SERVIA UNDER TURKISH RULE 
 
 THE MAIDEN MARGITA AND RAYKO THE VOYVODA 187 
 How STAR!NA NOVAK BECAME A HAYDUK . . 191 
 STAR!NA NOVAK AND THE BOLD RADIVOYE . .195 
 
 THE DEATH OF Ivo OF SENYE 199 
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF STOYAN YANKOVICH . . 202 
 THE CAPTIVITY OF STOYAN YANKOVICH . . 216 
 
 A MONTENEGRIN BALLAD 
 
 THE WAR OF THE MONTENEGRINS WITH MAH- 
 
 MUD PASHA 225 
 
 BALLADS WITHOUT HISTORICAL FOUNDATION 
 
 PREDRAG AND NENAD 241 
 
 SISTER AND BROTHER 249 
 
 MUYO AND ALIYA 254 
 
 THE MIRACLE OF ST. NICHOLAS 258 
 
 THE SERPENT BRIDEGROOM 260 
 
 THE WIFE OF HASAN AGA 271
 
 HEROIC BALLADS OF SERVIA
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 The ballads of Servia occupy a high position, 
 perhaps the highest position, in the ballad litera- 
 ture of Europe. Of them Jacob Grimm wrote: 
 "They would, if well known, astonish Europe," 
 and "in them breathes a clear and inborn poetry 
 such as can scarcely be found among any other 
 modern people." l The origin of this popular lit- 
 erature goes back to a period of which no written 
 record exists ; its known history dates from the 
 fourteenth century, since which time it is absolutely 
 continuous. And in Servia, unlike England and 
 Spain, ballads still survive as an important part 
 of the nation's intellectual life ; they are still sung, 
 and still composed, by peasant poets who have re- 
 ceived their training from oral tradition instead 
 of from the printed page. 
 
 According to their subjects the Servian ballads 
 may be divided into two very unequal divisions, 
 the first, and by far the larger, being based on 
 the national history, while the second lacks any 
 such historical foundation. Yet the line between 
 the two groups cannot be strictly drawn ; well- 
 known folk-lore motives or mere popular jests are 
 
 i Quoted by Vogl, Marko Kraljevits, p. iii. 
 [1]
 
 Continually attached to historical heroes. Such 
 ballads as Prince Marko' s Plowing and Marko 
 Drinks Wine in Ramazdn can be called "historical" 
 only in the most ultra-catholic interpretation of 
 the term. 
 
 The historical ballads may again be divided 
 into more or less definite cycles. First in order of 
 time come those dealing with the kings of the 
 Nemanich dynasty (1168-1367). This royal line 
 made less impression on the popular mind by its 
 heroic exploits than by its piety in founding 
 churches and monasteries (cf. p. 8). The sur- 
 viving ballads of the cycle, which are few in num- 
 ber, are represented in this volume by Urosh and 
 the Sons of Mamydva 1 and The Building of 
 Skadar. After the death of the great tsar Stepan 
 Dushan in 1356, his son, the weak Urosh, 
 came to the throne, but was unable to preserve 
 his authority intact. The leader of the revolting 
 chieftains was King Vukashin, who defeated his 
 lawful superior and caused him to be slain. Of 
 the rivalry of the two men the ballad Urosh and the 
 Sons of Mamydva preserves a distant echo; to the 
 historic brothers Vukashin and Uglyesha it adds 
 a third, Goyko, unknown outside of folk-lore. 
 Another glimpse, still more legendary, of the three 
 brothers is preserved in The Building of Skadar. 
 
 The cycle of the battle of Kosovo forms the 
 classic center of the Servian ballads. After the 
 death of Vukashin, being hard pressed by the 
 
 i This ballad is here printed as the first of those dealing 
 with Prince Marko, with which also it may be classed. 
 [3]
 
 Turks, the Servians in 1371 elected as their tsar, 
 Lazar, a leader who had served under Dushan and 
 was connected with him by marriage. His efforts 
 to save the country were vain; on June 15 (St. 
 Vitus' day), 1389, his armies were crushed by 
 those of Murad I. Both rulers fell on the battle- 
 field, Murad being killed by a Servian to whom 
 one of the contemporary accounts gives the title 
 of "a faithful servant of Lazar, by name Milosh." 
 About 1431 Constantine the Philosopher, a Servian 
 biographer, states that the "great noble" who 
 killed Murad was "slandered to his lord by envious 
 tongues as wishing to betray him." An anony- 
 mous Italian writer (about 1500) tells how on the 
 eve of battle Lazar reproached Milosh with wishing 
 to betray him, and how Milosh replied that the 
 event would prove his truth or treason ; the same 
 source states that on the battlefield there was a 
 report of the treachery of a voyvoda l named Dra- 
 goslav Pribishich. Finally Mauro Orbini in his 
 Regno d-e gli Slazi (1601) for the first time 
 ascribes the betrayal of Lazar to his son-in-law 
 Vuk Brankovich, whose fair fame is thus wrong- 
 fully besmirched. Orbini makes Milosh, like Vuk, 
 the son-in-law of Lazar, and tells of the origin 
 of the enmity of the two men in a quarrel between 
 their wives Mara and Vukosava ; in other words, he 
 gives the Kosovo legend in practically its complete 
 form, as it is found in the ballads here printed. 2 
 It is, however, probably the product of popu- 
 
 1 Duke, lord. 
 
 2 The story of the quarrel of Mara and Viikosava is not, 
 however, included in this volume. 
 
 [3]
 
 lar tradition, not of Orbini and his predecessors. 
 
 Upon this Kosovo legend many episodes are 
 grafted, such as those of Ban Strahin, Musich 
 Stevan, and the Maid of Kosovo. The ballads 
 often represent varying traditions ; thus the ac- 
 counts of Lazar's church in The Battle of Kosovo 
 and The Building of Ravdnitsa are not perfectly 
 consistent with each other. They depart widely 
 from historical truth, making Vukashin, for ex- 
 ample, who died in 1371, and Ertseg Stepan, who 
 belongs to a later period, both take part in the 
 battle of Kosovo. 1 
 
 These Kosovo songs are emphatically not frag- 
 ments of a primitive epic, but ballads dealing with 
 detached episodes. The attempts that have been 
 made to stitch them together into a connected 
 whole result in damaging splendid ballads without 
 constructing an epic worthy of the name. They 
 furnish an argument of some weight against the 
 Homeric theories of Lachmann and his school. 
 
 If the Kosovo cycle be the most elevated, dig- 
 nified, epic portion of the Servian popular poetry, 
 the ballads of Marko Kralyevich (Prince Marko) 
 are of more dramatic interest, combining tragic 
 pathos with almost ribald comedy in a fashion 
 worthy of an Elizabethan playwright. Unlike 
 Strahin and Milosh, who, to borrow a phrase from 
 Dryden, are "patterns of exact virtue," radiant as 
 their garments, Marko is a burly spoiled child, 
 strong, self-willed, capricious, at times cruel, but 
 
 iThis topic is discussed by H. Munro Chadwick, The 
 Heroic Age (Cambridge, 1912), pp. 313-319. 
 
 [4]
 
 always brave, always kind to the weak and friend- 
 less, whether they be fair maidens or mere birds 
 of prey, and, above all, always a devoted son to his 
 old mother Yevrosima. The historic Marko, the 
 son of King Vukashin, was not of great importance. 
 After his father's death he ruled over a portion 
 of Macedonia, with Prilip as his capital; in 1385 
 he submitted to Turkish sovereignty ; and in 1394 
 he perished, fighting for the Sultan Bajazet against 
 the Voyvoda Mircha of Wallachia. But he must 
 have endeared himself to the nation by his personal 
 qualities, for he became by far the best known and 
 the best beloved hero of the ballads. In one re- 
 spect, at least, the ballads about him are true to 
 history. Although Marko is associated with 
 Milosh as his sworn brother, and although he visits 
 the field of Kosovo after the defeat of the Servians 
 (see pp. 130-32), he is assigned no part in the bat- 
 tle itself; as to the cause of his absence from the 
 fray the ballads are silent. 
 
 From the great days of heroic conflict with the 
 Turks to the dark ages of oppression, the ballads 
 of The Maiden Mar git a and Rayko the Voyvoda, 
 with its lament over fallen champions, forms a 
 natural transition. The time of Turkish rule 
 lacked great exploits and great personalities; its 
 heroes were the hayduks, or robber outlaws, of 
 whom the most famous was Starma Novak, who 
 with his band of followers, including his sworn 
 brother, the bold Radivoye, lived in Bosnia late 
 in the sixteenth century. Though they use mus- 
 kets instead of bows, these worthies, as they appear 
 [5]
 
 in the ballads, are own cousins of Robin Hood and 
 Little John. 
 
 "After Herzegovina was subdued by the Turks 
 (1482), many of the inhabitants fled to Dalmatia 
 and Klis [near Salona], and after the fall of Klis 
 (1537) they went to Zengg [Senye in the ballads] 
 on the Croatian seacoast, in order, as hired soldiers 
 of the emperor, to defend the country from Turk- 
 ish marauding bands : these are the fugitives." 
 A special cycle of ballads glorifies these "fugitives," 
 of whom Ivo of Senye, who lived about 1600, is 
 the chief hero. With this cycle may be grouped 
 the ballads of the "seacoast heroes," who, however, 
 are not in the strict sense "fugitives." They are 
 not from Zengg, but from Kotari, in northern 
 Dalmatia, and are of a later date, the middle and 
 end of the seventeenth century. Among them is 
 Stoyan Yankovich, who in 1689 contributed to 
 the fall of Udbina and the freeing of Lika and 
 Kribava from the Turks. The ballads that deal 
 with him have little connection with his actual ex- 
 ploits. 
 
 Of ballads more recent in subject-matter this 
 volume contains but one specimen, The War of 
 the Montenegrins with Mahmud Pasha (1796), 
 which represents the cycle of the freeing of Monte- 
 negro. Unlike their predecessors, the ballads of 
 this group are better history than poetry. "Short 
 and simple, generally without poetic descriptions 
 or long conversations, almost entirely without the 
 vila or raven motives, they sing in a realistic fash- 
 i Quoted by P6povich without indication of source. 
 
 [6]
 
 ion the wars of the Montenegrins with the Turks; 
 they celebrate only real persons, and when they 
 mention even unimportant actors, always preserve 
 the topography of their doings accurately and 
 consistently. In them women play no part." 
 
 The ballads lacking historical foundation are 
 of the most varied sort. Thus The Serpent Bride- 
 groom, and Sister and Brother are versified fairy 
 tales, dealing with familiar folk-lore motives. 
 Predrag and Nenad is ostensibly a hayduk story, 
 but its plot is not purely Servian ; it is known to 
 English readers from Malory's tale of Balin and 
 Balan, or Tennyson's modern version of it. St. 
 Nicholas is a naive popular legend, while Muyo 
 and Alii/a tells of the misdeeds of an unusually 
 wicked vila, or mountain nymph. On the other 
 hand, TJie Wife of Hasan Aga is a simple, power- 
 ful tragedy of domestic life. 
 
 The Servian heroic ballads are now all composed 
 in one measure, an unrimed line of ten syllables, 
 with a caesura after the fourth syllable. There is no 
 regular arrangement of accents; but, as no Servian 
 word (except of course monosyllables) is accented 
 on the ultima, the effect of the verse, when read 
 or recited, is of an irregular trochaic rhythm. 
 
 I ponese tri tovara blaga 
 
 Ya kad tako svadbu uredishe. 
 
 When the ballads are sung, the prose accents are 
 set aside, and the lines become regular trochaic 
 pentameter. 2 
 
 1 P6povich. 
 
 2 Karajich, Preface to second edition of Servian 
 National Songs, 1824 (in government edition, 1891).
 
 Previous English translations have imitated more 
 or less closely this Servian meter. To the trans- 
 lators of the present volume it seemed better to cast 
 aside entirely the native measure, as one essentially 
 foreign to the genius of the English language, and 
 to adopt a verse modeled on that which, in Sigurd 
 the Vclsung, William Morris has made classic by 
 his handling of a subject that is spiritually akin 
 to the Kosovo ballads. At this point it may be 
 well to forestall a possible cavil. Metrists will 
 note that the translators, while in the main em- 
 ploying the measure of six and a half feet or thir- 
 teener, have liberally interspersed the seven-foot 
 line or fourteener. Lovers of the glorious measure 
 of Sigurd the Volsung may perhaps resent this 
 variation, but the citation of a precedent from Ma- 
 caulay should be sufficient to establish the dignity 
 of the practice: 
 
 And in the vats of Luna, 
 
 This year the must shall foam 
 Round the white feet of laughing girls 
 
 Whose sires have marched to Rome. 
 
 The Servian ballads are ordinarily recited or 
 chanted to the accompaniment of the gusle, a crude, 
 one-stringed instrument, in appearance somewhat 
 like a mandolin, but played with a bow. The tones 
 of the gusle come in only at the close of the verses. 
 On their distribution Karajich wrote thus in 1823: 
 "The heroic songs are now sung most often and 
 with most zest in Bosnia, Herzegovina, Monte- 
 negro, and the southern, mountainous regions of 
 [8]
 
 Servia. In these places even to-day almost every 
 house has its gusle, and it is hard to find a man 
 who does not know how to play it, and many 
 women and girls know how." l In the lower re- 
 gions the gusle grows less common, until it finally 
 becomes the peculiar possession of blind beggars, 
 who sing the songs at fairs and church festivals. 
 The anonymous authorship of these songs may 
 excite surprise among a people of bookish training 
 and habits like ourselves. It will be readily under- 
 stood that a singer knowing some fifty of the bal- 
 lads by heart can without great difficulty compose 
 new songs on any passing event of village life, 
 even as a cultivated gentleman, well versed in even 
 one of Shakespeare's plays, can find fitting quota- 
 tions for an after-dinner speech on any imaginable 
 topic. Karajich gives an example of such a jest- 
 ing song composed upon a village wedding. Bal- 
 lads of this t} r pe have no value in themselves, and 
 disappear from memory along with the trifling 
 event that occasioned them. But "just as wag- 
 gish old men and youths compose these jocose 
 songs, so others compose serious ballads of battles 
 and other notable events. It is not strange that 
 one cannot learn who first composed even the most 
 recent of the ballads, to say nothing of the older 
 ones ; but it is strange that among the common 
 people nobody regards it as an art or a thing to 
 be proud of to compose a new ballad; and, not to 
 speak of boasting of doing so, everyone, even the 
 real author, refuses to acknowledge the ballad, and 
 i Ibid.
 
 says that he has heard it from another. This is 
 true of the most recent ballads, of which it is 
 known that they were not brought from elsewhere, 
 but arose on the spot from an event of a few days 
 ago; but when even a year has passed since the 
 event and the ballad, or when a ballad is heard of 
 an event of yesterday, but of a distant locality, 
 no one even thinks of asking about its origin." * 
 
 A few words are due the memory of the great 
 collector of the Servian national songs, Vuk Ste- 
 fanovich Karajich (1787-1864), from whose work 
 all but one of the ballads in the present volume 
 have been translated. 2 Born of a peasant family, 
 under Turkish rule, Vuk early learned to read and 
 write, and while still a boy served as a scribe to 
 Black George, the leader of the Servian revolt. 
 Owing to an illness he became a cripple and was 
 restricted to a bookish career. In 1813 he became 
 acquainted in Vienna with the Slavic scholar Kopi- 
 tar, whose attention he attracted by an article 
 written in the living Servian language instead of 
 the artificial ecclesiastical dialect then current in 
 Servian literature, and who encouraged him to 
 
 1 Ibid. Acquaintance with these simple statements by 
 Karajich as to conditions with which he was familiar, in a 
 country where ballads are still a living force, might have 
 saved writers on English balladry from much empty 
 theorizing. Despite the prevailing anonymity, the author- 
 ship of some of the modern ballads is known with reason- 
 able certainty: see p. 225, note. 
 
 2 The one exception is the ballad How Milosh Killed the 
 Sultan Murad, which is from a small volume, Boj no, Kosovu, 
 published at Allegheny, Pennsylvania, no date. 
 
 [10]
 
 undertake the gathering of popular songs and bal- 
 lads. In 1814-15 he published the first fruits of 
 his labors, a small collection in two volumes ; a 
 second, enlarged edition appeared in four volumes, 
 1824-33; and a third edition, with still further 
 additions, followed in 1841-66, in six volumes, of 
 which the last two were printed posthumously. 
 Finally the Servian government has reissued the 
 great work, with additions from Karajich's manu- 
 scripts, in nine volumes, 1891-1902, containing, 
 besides two volumes of folk-songs, nearly five hun- 
 dred ballads. 
 
 Karajich also published a collection of popular 
 tales and one of proverbs. But his activity as a 
 folk-lorist was only one side of his labors. In 
 1814 he published the first edition of his Servian 
 Grammar, and in 1818 he published the first edi- 
 tion of his Servian Dictio-nary, with translations 
 in German and Latin, which, in a revised form, is 
 still a standard work. He prepared a translation 
 of the New Testament into the living speech of 
 the people. Finally, not to speak of his less im- 
 portant writings, he revised on a phonetic basis 
 the alphabet and spelling of his native language, 
 and his system, after years of persecution, partly 
 owing to his introduction of the letter j from the 
 hated "Catholic" Latin alphabet, has long since 
 been adopted as the Servian official orthography. 
 Few writers of books have had so great an influ- 
 ence, or an influence so purely beneficent, on the 
 life of their nation as had Vuk Stefanovich Kara- 
 jich.
 
 Some explanation is needed of the pronunciation 
 of the Servian proper names. No simple trans- 
 literation can correctly indicate the native pro- 
 nunciation; that here adopted seems open to as 
 few .objections as any other. The vowels and 
 diphthongs should be given their regular "conti- 
 nental" values : roughly, father, cafe, machine, 
 note, rule, aye, bey, 6oy. / never forms a diph- 
 thong with a preceding vowel: V6-in, Vd-i-sti-na. 
 Y is always either a consonant or the second ele- 
 ment of a diphthong; a consonant followed by y 
 plus a vowel forms one syllable with them: Ne- 
 ma-nya. The consonants and consonantal di- 
 graphs have their ordinary English sounds; the 
 following are apparently all in regard to which 
 there could be ambiguity. G is always "hard," as 
 in gift; j is pronounced as in jelly, the j of the 
 Servian alphabet being here rendered by y 
 (Yug) ; s is always surd, as in soft, passing; z and 
 ch are pronounced as in zebra and church, not 
 with their German sounds ; zh represents the sound 
 of s in pleasure. Ch and j, it should be added, 
 each transliterate two Servian sounds, only one of 
 which corresponds to the English value of the 
 letter used for it. The Servian "vocalic r," as in 
 Srja, has been rendered by ri, Srija. C has not 
 been used in the transliteration ; thus, Tsetinye 
 (Cetinje). The accent of words of two syllables 
 is always on the first syllable ; on words of three or 
 more syllables the accent is always marked. No 
 attempt has been made to indicate the quantities 
 of the Servian vowels or the secondary accents.
 
 A BALLAD OF SERVIA BEFORE THE 
 TURKISH CONQUEST
 
 THE BUILDING OF SKADAR l 
 
 ONCE there were three born brothers, a hold that 
 
 had begun 
 The three sons of Marnyava. Vukashin the king 
 
 was one, 
 The second was Voyvoda Uglyesha, and Goyko the 
 
 third was he ; 
 And Skadar on the Boyana were they building 
 
 busily. 
 
 With fifteen score of masons three long years la- 
 bored they, 
 But they could not for the fortress the strong 
 
 foundations lay, 
 Much less raise up the wall thereof, for what was 
 
 set upright 
 By the masons in the morning, a vila 2 wrecked 
 
 at night. 
 The vila called from the mountain in the spring 
 
 of the fourth year: 
 "Plague not thyself, Vukashin, and squander 
 
 not thy gear! 
 King, thou canst not for the fortress the strong 
 
 foundation lay, 
 
 1 Scutari. 
 
 2 "A sort of nymph. The vilas live in great wooded 
 mountains and in craggy places around lakes and rivers. 
 A vila is always young and beautiful, dressed in a thin 
 white garment, and with long hair flowing over her back 
 and breast. The vilas will harm no one so long as no one 
 injures them, as for instance by intruding on their dances 
 or feasts; but when any one injures them, then they will 
 punish him in various ways, as by shooting him in the hand 
 or foot, or in both hands or both feet, or in the heart, in 
 which case he at once dies." Karajich, Servian Dictionary. 
 
 [15]
 
 Much less raise up the wall thereof, until upon a 
 
 day 
 Come news of Stoya and Stoyan, 1 for like names 
 
 have the twain; 
 
 Sister they are and brother. Into the wall amain 
 Shalt thou wall them. And the fortress shall be 
 
 stablished in the land." 
 Vukashin heard. To Desimir he issued his 
 
 command : 
 
 "Desimir, thou wast ever a faithful knave to me, 
 And from this hour onward mine own son shalt 
 
 thou be. 
 Harness, my son, the horses to the wains in the 
 
 yard below, 
 And take six packs of money, and over the white 
 
 world go. 
 Do thou seek for Stoya and Stoyan, for like names 
 
 have the twain ; 
 Brother they are and sister. Buy them or seize 
 
 them amain. 
 Thou shalt bring them unto Skadar on the Boyana 
 
 straightway, 
 That the twain in the foundation of the tower we 
 
 may lay, 
 
 To see if the foundation at last will stay or stand, 
 
 And finally the fortress be stablished in the land." 
 
 Desimir heard, and harnessed the steeds to the 
 
 wains below ; 
 
 i Stoyan is a common Servian name (cf. p. 202), of which 
 Stoya (for Stdyana) is the feminine diminutive. But stoyan 
 is also an adjective meaning stable, enduring; and stoya a 
 noun meaning a standing, a position; both are from the 
 same root as stoyati, to stand. 
 
 [16]
 
 And with six packs of money o'er the white world 
 did he go. 
 
 He sought for Stoya and'Stoyan, for like names 
 had the twain; 
 
 For three full years he sought them, and aye he 
 sought in vain. 
 
 To Skadar on the Boyana at last he took the 
 track ; 
 
 To the king he gave the horses and the wains and 
 
 money back. 
 
 "Here, king, are thy wains and horses, and thy 
 money-bags again, 
 
 Since I found not Stoya and Stoyan for like 
 
 names have the twain." 
 
 Vukashin heard it, and summoned Rado the 
 builder in, 
 
 And Rado bade three hundred men their labor to 
 begin. 
 
 What the king built, wrecked the vila; no founda- 
 tion could he lay, 
 
 Much less raise up the wall thereof. To the king 
 
 then did she say: 
 
 "Plague not thyself, Vukashin, and squander 
 not thy gold ; 
 
 Thou canst not rear a single pier, much less the 
 wall of the hold. 
 
 A faithful wife hath each of you, ye kingly broth- 
 ers born: 
 
 Whose wife with the masons' dinner comes to Boy- 
 ana tomorn, 
 
 Into the tower's foundation wall her then, that it 
 mav stand; 
 
 17]
 
 And finally the fortress shalt thou stablish in the 
 
 land." 
 When King Vukashin heard it, he called his 
 
 brethren there: 
 "Hear ye what from the mountain the vila doth 
 
 declare ! 
 In no way get we vantage by squandering the 
 
 gold; 
 She will not let rear a single pier, much less the 
 
 wall of the hold. 
 She saith that we have faithful wives, all we three 
 
 brothers born: 
 Whose wife with the masons' dinner comes to 
 
 Boyana tomorn, 
 Into the tower's foundation we must build her, 
 
 that it stand; 
 And finally the fortress shall we stablish in the 
 
 land. 
 Before God shall we not pledge it, not to tell our 
 
 wives at home, 
 And leave to chance whose wife tomorn to Boyana 
 
 shall come?" 
 While the three lords were pledging, upon them 
 
 came the night, 
 And straightway they departed unto their houses 
 
 white. 
 They spent the lordly evening, and went each man 
 
 to bed ; 
 And a marvel ! Vukashin brake the pledge, and 
 
 told the wife he wed : 
 "Hearest thou, my dear love now, that troth 
 
 to me hast sworn ! 
 
 [18]
 
 Go not thou to the Boyana with the masons' din- 
 ner tomorn. 
 Thou wilt perish; they will wall thee into the wall 
 
 of the tower." 
 Uglyesha brake it also, and told his wife in that 
 
 hour: 
 "Be not deceived, my darling wife, that troth 
 
 to me hast sworn ! 
 
 Go not with the masons' dinner unto Boyana to- 
 morn. 
 Girl, thou wilt die; they will wall thee into the 
 
 wall of the tower." 
 But Goyko did not break the pledge, nor tell 
 
 his wife in that hour. 
 On the fair morrow early, when first the daybreak 
 
 shone, 
 The children of Marnyava to the Boyana were 
 
 gone. 
 Time came the dinner to carry, and the turn of 
 
 the queen to bear; 
 She went to the wife of Uglyesha, and spake unto 
 
 her there: 
 "Hear, and good health to thee, sister! My 
 
 head beginneth to ache ; 
 
 I cannot conquer it. Prithee the meal to the ma- 
 sons take." 
 "Good health to thee, queen," she answered, 
 
 "my sister that is so dear! 
 I cannot master this aching arm. Speak thou 
 
 to our sister here." 
 
 She went to the youngest sister, and unto her 
 said she: 
 
 [19]
 
 "O them young wife of Goyko, do thou harken 
 
 now to me! 
 It is this good health to thee, sister! my head 
 
 beginneth to ache; 
 I cannot conquer the pain. Do thou the meal to 
 
 the masons take." 
 Goyko's young wife gave answer: "I would 
 
 do it gladly, O queen; 
 But all unbathed is my little child, and the linen 
 
 not washed clean." 
 Answered the queen: "With the dinner to 
 
 the masons do thou go. 
 Let our sister bathe thy baby ; I will whiten the 
 
 linen like snow." 
 Then the young wife of Goyko thereto would 
 
 say no more; 
 Forthwith unto the masons their midday meal she 
 
 bore. 
 By Boyana Goyko saw her, and sad was his heart 
 
 that day, 
 Sad for his wife and the little lad that in the 
 
 cradle lay, 
 That should be without his mother ere his first 
 
 month was told; 
 And down upon the hero's face the bitter tears 
 
 they rolled. 
 The slender girl looked on him ; gently she walked 
 
 along, 
 Until she was come to Goyko, and she spake as 
 
 soft as a song: 
 "What aileth thee, Goyko, that on thy cheeks 
 
 the bitter tears have rolled?" 
 [20]
 
 He answered: 
 
 "Evil it is, my love! I had 
 
 an apple of gold, 
 And to-day it fell into Boyana, and woe is me 
 
 this day ! 
 It is a trouble of the soul ; this grief I cannot 
 
 slay." 
 She understood not, the slender girl; unto her 
 
 lord she spake: 
 "Pray for thine health; an apple far better shalt 
 
 thou make !" 
 Then was he grievously sorry, and turned his 
 
 head aside ; 
 He could not any longer bear to look upon his 
 
 bride. 
 But the two sons of Marnyava took her hands 
 
 white and small, 
 And led her to the stronghold, to wall her in the 
 
 wall. 
 
 They made to Rado the builder the matter mani- 
 fest; 
 She laughs at his three hundred men, for she deems 
 
 it is a jest. 
 They brought her and they placed her, to wall 
 
 her in the wall; 
 And the three hundred masons they came there 
 
 one and all. 
 With stone and wood they walled her to the knees 
 
 east and west, 
 And the slender girl laughs lightly, deeming 
 
 haply they jest. 
 
 [ft]
 
 They built unto her girdle with the heavy wood 
 
 and stone. 
 
 She saw what was come on her; with a very bit- 
 ter groan, 
 
 And writhing like a serpent, she prayed her breth- 
 ren there: 
 "An you trust in God, wall me not up, so tender 
 
 and so fair." 
 So prayed she. They looked not on her; no way 
 
 her prayer did aid. 
 But she overcame disgrace and shame, and to her 
 
 lord she said: 
 "Let me not now, my dearest lord, be walled 
 
 up in the hold, 
 But send unto my mother, that hath a treasure 
 
 of gold, 
 And purchase thou a slave girl with her money in 
 
 that hour, 
 And wall the slave girl into the foundations of 
 
 the tower." 
 So spake the slender girl in vain; the prayer 
 
 could not aid. 
 When she found no help, to Rado, the master 
 
 builder, she prayed: 
 "For my bosom, builder Rado, leave a space 
 
 at my behest, 
 That Yovo when he cometh may be suckled at my 
 
 breast." 
 Rado, the master builder, was well pleased with 
 
 her prayer, 
 And for her milk-white bosom he left a window 
 
 there, 
 
 [22]
 
 With the white bosom outward. He did her 
 
 whole behest, 
 That Yovo might be suckled when he came unto 
 
 her breast. 
 And again she called on Rado, the builder, in 
 
 this wise: 
 "I prithee, brother Rado, leave a window for 
 
 mine eyes, 
 That I may look to the white house, and easily 
 
 may see 
 When they bring Yovo hither, or bear him back 
 
 from me." 
 Rado, the master builder, was well pleased with 
 
 her prayer; 
 That she might look to the milk-white house, he 
 
 left a window there, 
 And see the child when they brought him or bore 
 
 him back again. 
 At last they walled her in the wall and stablished 
 
 the hold amain. 
 They brought the babe in the cradle, she suckled 
 
 him from the stone ; 
 For seven days she suckled him ; thereafter her 
 
 voice was gone. 
 A year she gave the young child suck, and sweet 
 
 did the white milk flow. 
 
 As it was then in Skadar, so sweet it runneth now. 
 Yea, even to-day the white milk flows, for a mir- 
 acle most high, 
 And a healing draught for women whereof the 
 
 breasts are dry ! * 
 
 i "They say that even now from the windows where her 
 [23]
 
 breasts were exposed flows a certain moisture, which collects 
 below the wall as lime; and women who have no milk, or 
 whose breasts pain them, take this and drink it in water. 
 Among our people it is said even now that no great build- 
 ing can be constructed unless some person be walled into 
 it; and therefore all who are able retire from such places, 
 since it is said that even a person's shadow may be walled 
 in, and he afterwards dies." (Note by Karajich.)
 
 BALLADS OF KOSOVO FIELD
 
 THE BUILDING OF RAVANITSA 
 
 To celebrate the holy tide, Tsar Lazarus is gone 
 To Krushevats, the fortress of many-colored 
 
 stone ; 
 To the birthfeast of St. Amos he summons all the 
 
 lords 
 
 By letter and salutation that with their rank ac- 
 cords ; 
 And all the lords of Servia were gathered at that 
 
 place. 
 He set them at the tables, by greatness and by 
 
 grace. 
 At the head of the good table the good Tsar 
 
 Lazar sat; 
 The lords were set beside him to drink the wine 
 
 thereat ; 
 And they spake of all good tidings what time the 
 
 wine ran free. 
 Tsaritsa Mflitsa stepped forth, and through 
 
 the hall came she. 
 Girded was she with girdles nine, nine chains her 
 
 neck did fold, 
 Nine pendants hung about her brows from the 
 
 coronet of gold, 
 And the three summits of the crown were set with 
 
 a precious stone 
 That shone by night as broad and bright as in 
 
 the day the sun. 
 And she spoke to the glorious Lazarus : 
 
 "Abashed 
 
 am I to-day
 
 Only to look on thee, Lazarus; and more this 
 
 word to say 
 I cannot help it, I must speak forth. Nemanya's 
 
 sons of old, 
 They were our tsars in word and deed, and all 
 
 their days are told. 
 They heaped not treasure up in hills, but to God 
 
 reared many a fane ; 
 
 They builded their good monasteries on the moun- 
 tain and the plain ; 
 They reared o'er Jakovitsa Dechani on the 
 
 height, 
 The Patriarch's Place at level Pech, 1 and in 
 
 Drenitsa the white 
 Did they raise the Devich; near Pazar St. Peter's 
 
 Church they set, 
 And the great Pillars of St. George on the mount, 
 
 higher yet; 
 
 They builded Sopochani over the Rashka cold, 
 And the Cathedral of St. Anne they wrought in 
 
 Vlah the Old ; 
 Studenitsa 'neath Brivenik; 'neath Yadovnik, St. 
 
 Paul; 
 O'er Karanovats the fair church that Zhicha men 
 
 do call; 
 The Chapel of Good Friday on Prizrend did they 
 
 bestow ; 
 
 And they reared Grachanitsa on level Kosovo. 
 All these are their foundations. In their place 
 
 thou reignest now; 
 i Ipek. 
 
 [28]
 
 No churches hast thou founded, yet a treasure of 
 
 gold hast thou. 
 The treasure availeth nothing to help us or to 
 
 heal; 
 Neither for soul or body will treasure work our 
 
 weal." 
 Then rose up Lazar the glorious: 
 
 "My great 
 
 lords, harken ye 
 What saith my queen, that nowhere a church 
 
 builded have we! 
 
 Ravanitsa in Resava by the Ravan will I rear, 
 For treasure in my treasuries whate'er I need is 
 
 here. 
 Leaden shall be the corner stones, and the walls of 
 
 silver white ; 
 I will cover the walls of it with the gold burnished 
 
 bright. 
 And moreover, by God's mercy, shall pearls be 
 
 set thereon, 
 And the gateways of the chapels shall glow with 
 
 precious stone." 
 The Servian lords rose lightly; they bowed 
 
 down one and all: 
 "Build for the sake of thine own soul and the health 
 
 of Stevan the Tall." 1 
 But Milosh Obilich sat there at the table foot to 
 
 dine, 
 
 i "The popular name of the son of Prince Lazar, who 
 ruled after the battle of K6sovo, and who built the monas- 
 tery of Manasiya." Kardjich, Servian Dictionary. 
 
 29]
 
 And naught he said; and Lazar saw, and pledged 
 
 him in the wine: 
 "Hail to thee, Milosh the voyvoda ! What then 
 
 to me wilt thou say? 
 For I think to build to our Lord God a mighty 
 
 church this day." 
 Milosh rose up and doffed the cap with the 
 
 plumes and sable fine, 
 And he made obeisance to the tsar, and they gave 
 
 him the cup of wine. 
 Milosh took up the golden cup, and gave his health 
 
 again : 
 "Glory to thee, prince, for thy speech, but for 
 
 building of the fane 
 This is no time for building. In faith, it cannot 
 
 be! 
 My lord, but look in the ancient book what it shall 
 
 say to thee. 
 
 The last hour is upon us ; swift it cometh apace. 
 The Turks will take the kingdom and rule it in 
 
 our place. 
 They will sack church and convent, and Ravanitsa 
 
 likewise. 
 The foundations of Ravanitsa, they will dig them 
 
 for a prize, 
 And melt them into cannon balls, to beat and batter 
 
 down 
 The bulwarks of our churches and the rampart of 
 
 the town. 
 For trappings the white silver walls shall be molten 
 
 in the flames; 
 
 [30]
 
 They will overthrow the church roof for necklets 
 
 for their dames ; 
 For these same necklaces, I wot, they will wrench 
 
 away the pearls; 
 For their sword hilts will they take the gems, and 
 
 for rings for Turkish girls. 
 But hark to me, Tsar Lazar! Let us quarry out 
 
 the stone 
 And build a church of marble. For the Turks 
 
 will seize the throne, 
 And our church shall serve forever, unto God's 
 
 Judgment Day ! 
 
 There is no profit in the stone, to carry it away." 
 Then spake the great Tsar Lazarus, when he 
 
 that speech had heard: 
 "Now glory to thee, Milosh, for truth is in thy 
 
 word !" 
 
 [31]
 
 BAN STRAHIN 
 
 STRAHIN was ban of Banska that by Kosovo doth 
 
 stand ; 
 
 And such another falcon there is not in the land. 
 He rose up in the morning: 
 
 "Ho, all my knaves, 
 
 give heed! 
 Get ye down to the stables and saddle me my 
 
 steed. 
 Deck him out fair and seemly, and gird him with 
 
 the girth; 
 For hark and hear me, gallants, I go roving o'er 
 
 the earth. 
 Weary shall be the milk-white steed, before I shall 
 
 alight 
 Where dwell my wife's good kindred in Krushevats 
 
 the white 
 Her brave old father Yug Bogdan and her good 
 
 brothers nine, 
 Her gallant kin shall take me in and cheer me 
 
 with the wine." 
 Then forthwith all the servants unto the ban 
 
 gave heed, 
 And from the lordly stable led the white falcon 
 
 steed. 
 And then the brave Ban Strahin himself the steed 
 
 arrayed ; 
 
 He set on him a saddle of velvet and brocade, 
 Redder than sunset water, more shining than the 
 
 sun! 
 
 [32]
 
 So the good ban put on the steed that rich capari- 
 son. 
 
 So rode he forth that morning, nor ever did alight 
 Till he came in to his wife's kin in Krushevats the 
 
 white, 
 Where late the realm men stablished. And him 
 
 Yug Bogdan saw, 
 And with his nine gray hawks came on to greet 
 
 his son-in-law. 
 They waited little for him, but clasped him one 
 
 and all; 
 And while the servants took the steed, they 
 
 brought the ban to hall. 
 Down sat they at the ready board, and spake 
 
 fair words and fine; 
 And man and maid came in apace to serve or pour 
 
 the wine. 
 
 Then all those goodly Christians their thirst be- 
 gan to quench; 
 Yug Bogdan set Ban Strahin beside him on the 
 
 bench; 
 Upon his right he set him, his sons on the other 
 
 hand; 
 But the remnant of his people at the table-foot 
 
 must stand. 
 The servants served before them. Nine daughters 
 
 had that lord, 
 And each fair daughter in her turn served deftly 
 
 at the board. 
 They served before their father; they served their 
 
 lords that tide ; 
 
 33]
 
 But most of all Ban Strahin, for their sister was 
 
 his bride. 
 One servant stood before them to serve the red 
 
 wine up; 
 In a gold cup he measured it nine measures held 
 
 that cup. 
 Much courtesy was there to see and guests from 
 
 near and far; 
 Brothers as many came as to a banquet of the 
 
 tsar. 
 Long was Ban Strahin's tarrying; long, long did 
 
 he abide, 
 Dwelling among his wife her kin in pleasure and 
 
 in pride. 
 The guests that were in Krushevats a bitter 
 
 cry they made, 
 And came to old Yug Bogdan and unto him they 
 
 prayed : 
 "We kiss thy silken garments, thou art our 
 
 lord and chief; 
 
 We therefore pray thy kindness to do us this re- 
 lief. 
 Bring Strahin thy good son-in-law to our castles 
 
 and our courts, 
 That we may do him honor as with his worth 
 
 consorts." 
 Before that mirth was over was long enough, 
 
 I trow. 
 Long the ban tarried, ere came forth the tidings 
 
 of his woe. 
 But lo, in the fair morning, when the warm sun 
 
 beat down, 
 
 [34]
 
 A lad bore a white letter from Banska, the little 
 
 town 
 Tidings from his old mother! He set it on his 
 
 knee; 
 Therein was many a bitter and dreadful thing 
 
 to see, 
 For there her curse is written most plain in 
 
 Strahin's sight: 
 "Where art thou, son? Foul fall the wine in 
 
 Krushevats the white! 
 Evil is the wine and full of shame for thee and 
 
 thy wife's kin. 
 Behold what woes against thee are written down 
 
 herein ! 
 From Yedren l with an army is come the Turkish 
 
 tsar 
 To Kosovo, and his viziers are with him in the 
 
 war; 
 And he hath taken Kosovo with his accurst 
 
 viziers. 
 The whole strength hath he brought along of all 
 
 the Turkish spears; 
 Along the land of Kosovo hath he ta'en either 
 
 flood- 
 Lab and Sitnitsa onward from the marble to the 
 
 wood, 
 From the maple dry to Sazliya bridged over by 
 
 the arch, 
 Through Zvechan and Chechan to the wood round 
 
 Kosovo they march, 
 i Adrianople. 
 
 [35]
 
 The valley of their capture; thereto they haste 
 
 along. 
 
 And the tsar hath one army an hundred thou- 
 sand strong, 
 That one lone lord hath lent him who hath a fief 
 
 of the tsar. 
 Many lords eat of the tsar's bread, and ride his 
 
 steeds of war. 
 Few arms those chieftains carry ; nay, but a single 
 
 blade ! 
 
 And yet another army is for the tsar arrayed 
 The Turks and janissaries in Yedren's milk-white 
 
 tower ; 
 And yet an hundred thousand they say are in that 
 
 power. 
 Tuk and Manjuk an army for the tsar lead as 
 
 well, 
 And death is in their onslaught and slaughter in 
 
 their yell. 
 But yet there is one army of all from far and 
 
 near 
 Vlah Aliya's, that feareth not for sultan nor 
 
 vizier, 
 Nor all within the armies save as ants upon the 
 
 hill. 
 "Such is the Turkish battle, nor departs he 
 
 without ill. 
 He smote on little Banska; by the left-hand way 
 
 he came; 
 He stormed the hold of Banska, and burned it 
 
 with the flame. 
 
 [36]
 
 He hath overturned the lowest stone; thy servants 
 
 fled perforce; 
 And o'er thy mother's body hath he ridden on his 
 
 horse ; 
 With thy wife upon his saddlebow through 
 
 Kosovo he went, 
 And he kisses thy beloved in the shadow of his 
 
 tent. 
 
 And I above burned ruins bewail this fate of mine, 
 While thou drink'st wine in Krushevats. God 
 
 send 'tis Death his wine!" 
 When the ban read the letter, Grief took him 
 
 in her grip ; 
 Down drooped upon his shoulder the black beard 
 
 of his lip ; 
 He ground his teeth together, and was very nigh 
 
 to weep; 
 And old Yug Bogdan saw him, as he rose up from 
 
 his sleep. 
 Yug's voice flashed up like fire ; he spake after this 
 
 wise: 
 "God help my son ! and wherefore dost thou so 
 
 soon arise? 
 And wherefore art thou troubled, good son-in-law 
 
 of mine? 
 Have thy brave brothers laughed at thee or mocked 
 
 thee at the wine? 
 Have not thy sisters served thee? Is there evil 
 
 among thy kin? 
 Tell me, my son, and straightway: what shame is 
 
 found herein?" 
 
 37]
 
 The ban flashed up before him and to his father 
 
 said: 
 "Father, I find no fault at all in the kin of her 
 
 I wed, 
 And my good brothers with me deal pleasantly 
 
 withal ; 
 The noble ladies speak me fair and serve me in the 
 
 hall: 
 Among my wife's good kindred no fault at all doth 
 
 stand. 
 My mother out of Banska sends this letter to my 
 
 hand." 
 
 He tells unto his father in the fair morning-tide 
 How all of his possession is wasted far and wide; 
 How that the Turks have scattered his servants, 
 
 knight and knave, 
 And trampled on his mother, and his wife ta'en for 
 
 a slave: 
 "And O thou old Yug Bogdan, if she be dear to 
 
 me, 
 Also she is thy daughter and shame to me and 
 
 thee! 
 
 And if thou ever thoughtest a gift to me to give, 
 Give it not after I am dead, but now while yet I 
 
 live. 
 
 I pray thee and I kiss thy hand : give me thy chil- 
 dren nine, 
 And we will go to Kosovo to seek this foe of 
 
 mine 
 Yea, this red traitor to the tsar, that hath enslaved 
 
 my wife. 
 
 Be not afraid, my father, nor sorrow for their life ; 
 [38]
 
 They shall wear Turkish raiment, turbans as white 
 
 as milk 
 And good green mantles, and also broad trousers 
 
 wrought of silk. 
 
 And at the belt long sabers as flashing as a flame. 
 And I will call my servants, and order them by 
 
 name, 
 
 To saddle up the horses and draw the saddlebelts, 
 And cover o'er the horses with the strong black 
 
 bear-pelts. 
 Strong janissaries shall they be; my counsel shall 
 
 they know, 
 What time through the tsar's army we ride in 
 
 Kosovo. 
 And I will be their captain, who have their sister 
 
 wed, 
 That they may heed my counsel, and have it still 
 
 in dread. 
 And if a soldier of the tsar shall challenge us in 
 
 speech, 
 Turkish, mayhap, or Arabic; why, I can speak in 
 
 each, 
 And Manov too, and Arnaut, enough to serve that 
 
 tide. 
 To seek my foe through Kosovo, so lightly will we 
 
 ride 
 This Turk Vlah Aliya that enslaved my love by 
 
 might and main. 
 For though alone among the Turks I might perish 
 
 or be ta'en, 
 My brethren and I, we shall not die nor be smitten 
 
 down in vain !" 
 
 [39]
 
 When old Yug Bogdan heard this, he flashed 
 
 like living fire ; 
 He spake unto Ban Strahin in words of wrath and 
 
 ire: 
 "O thou, my son Ban Strahin, witless art thou 
 
 and rash ! 
 Wilt thou lead my sons to Kosovo for these same 
 
 Turks to slash? 
 Say nothing more, my son-in-law ! My sons shall 
 
 not be slain, 
 Though thy fair wife, my daughter, come never 
 
 home again. 
 Nay, nevermore, Ban Strahin, unloose thy wrath 
 
 at me, 
 For wit thou well, my son-in-law may the plague 
 
 light on thee ! 
 If she have been his paramour but one night in 
 
 the tent, 
 
 So may she be no longer the bride of thy content ; 
 God hath slain her forever; accursed shall she be! 
 And a worse thing, Ban Strahin, him she prefers 
 
 to thee. 
 Go to! The Devil take her! And for this love 
 
 of thine 
 I will give thee a better, and with thee drink the 
 
 wine. 
 I will be thy friend forever, but my children shall 
 
 not go 
 Riding amain across the plain with thee to 
 
 Kosovo !" 
 But when Ban Strahin heard it, he flashed like 
 
 living fire; 
 
 [40]
 
 Answered the ban to the old man in agony and 
 
 ire. 
 He will not call a servant; for a groom he takes 
 
 not heed, 
 But goeth himself to the stable to saddle the white 
 
 steed. 
 How royally he saddled him ! how girded him 
 
 thereto ! 
 How over flashing ear and crest the bit and bridle 
 
 drew! 
 Before the gateway of the court he led him forth 
 
 alone, 
 
 And held him by the bridle near the white step- 
 ping-stone. 
 And he caught the steed by the shoulder and 
 
 mounted with a bound, 
 And looked upon his brethren, but they looked 
 
 upon the ground. 
 Upon his sister's husband Ban Strahin turned his 
 
 eyes, 
 But Nemanyich looked downward at the black dust 
 
 likewise. 
 They had drunken wine and brandy enough to 
 
 make one nod, 
 And boasted that they were heroes, and sworn by 
 
 the name of God: 
 "We love thee, thou Ban Strahin, more than the 
 
 tsar's whole land." 
 But woe ! the ban has never a man this day his 
 
 friend to stand. 
 It is no easy labor to Kosovo to wend;
 
 And the ban looked about him and saw he had no 
 
 friend. 
 He rode down through white Krushevats, but aye 
 
 he looked behind 
 To see if his brave brethren would alter in their 
 
 mind, 
 And pity his affliction. No friend came to the 
 
 ban. 
 
 And thereupon he minded him of the hound Kara- 
 man, 1 
 Whom he loves better than the steed, and holds of 
 
 richer worth, 
 And loudly from the strong white throat the 
 
 hound-call thunders forth. 
 The hound lay in the stable, but harkened and 
 
 gave heed, 
 And swiftly in the field he ran, till he overtook the 
 
 steed. 
 
 And gay beside the milk-white steed the hound re- 
 joicing springs, 
 And on his neck the collar of corded goldwork 
 
 rings. 
 A pleasant thing it was ; the ban rode glad on the 
 
 stallion's back, 
 And took by weald and mount and field to Kosovo 
 
 the track. 
 When he saw the host at Kosovo his heart was 
 
 touched by fear, 
 But he remembered the true God, and to the Turks 
 
 drew near. 
 
 Over the field of Kosovo on all four sides he went, 
 i In Servian this word is accented on the second syllable. 
 
 [42]
 
 Seeking the strong Vlah Aliya, but he could not 
 
 find his tent. 
 By the waters of the Sftnitsa a marvel there waa 
 
 seen, 
 By the shore of the Sitnitsa was pitched a tent of 
 
 green. 
 The tent of green was very fair ; it hid the grassy 
 
 lawn, 
 The golden apple on the pole shone brighter than 
 
 the dawn. 
 A spear is set before the door, and by the spear a 
 
 steed, 
 With his head deep in the nose-bag upon the oats 
 
 to feed. 
 The steed pawed fierce upon the ground with the 
 
 off hoof and the near, 
 And the ban thought unto himself: "Vlah 
 
 Aliya's tent is here." 
 And forward rode the hero upon the milk-white 
 
 steed ; 
 He took his spear from shoulder, all ready to his 
 
 need. 
 He threw the tent door open, and looked within the 
 
 tent; 
 
 But it was not Vlah Aliya, the strong and insolent ; 
 But a dervish, to whose girdle the white beard 
 
 sweeps from the chin, 
 Lies in the shadow of the tent, and no one else 
 
 therein. 
 A luckless dervish is the Turk, but he drinks wine 
 
 in a cup; 
 
 [43]
 
 He pours the wine out for himself and forthwith 
 
 drinks it up. 
 Ban Strahin looked on the dervish that was bloody 
 
 to the eyes, 
 
 And made salam unto him, after the Turkish wise. 
 The drunken Turk looked on him, and spoke a 
 
 word of woe: 
 "Hail to thee, brave Ban Strahin of Banska by 
 
 Kosovo !" 
 Now flashed up the Ban Strahin, and answered him 
 
 in dread ; 
 
 In the fair-spoken Turkish a bitter word he said: 
 "Foul fall thy mother, thou dervish, that drink- 
 
 est here this hour! 
 Thou art so drunk thou canst not tell a Moslem 
 
 from a Giaour. 
 Wherefore dost thou speak of him? for here is 
 
 found no ban ; 
 There is none here but I, and I am the tsar's true 
 
 fighting man. 
 All of the tsar's good horses are scattered near 
 
 and far, 
 And the warriors run quickly to catch them for the 
 
 tsar. 
 If I go with this thy insult to the tsar and the 
 
 vizier, 
 Know well, thou sorry dervish, thy words shall cost 
 
 thee dear." 
 Laughed the dervish : 
 
 "Thou a Turk, Strahin? 
 
 Good fortune go with thee! 
 
 [44]
 
 Were I upon Mount Golech, and should haply 
 
 chance to see 
 Thee afar in the host of the tsar, well I should 
 
 know thee, ban 
 Thee and that milk-white steed of thine, and the 
 
 hound Karaman, 
 
 Whom aye thou lovest better than the strong stal- 
 lion white. 
 And know, thou ban of Banska, I read thy brow 
 
 aright. 
 And I know the eyes thereunder and the black 
 
 beard of thy lip. 
 
 Know, ban and may good fortune be of thy fel- 
 lowship ! 
 That when thy guardsmen took me and made of 
 
 me a slave, 
 To thee in Suhara of the mount me miserable they 
 
 gave. 
 To the bottom of that prison didst thou cast me at 
 
 that tide, 
 And there a slave to thine and thee nine years did 
 
 I abide. 
 Nine fearful years past over, yea! and the tenth 
 
 began, 
 When filled with deep compassion thou thoughtest 
 
 on me, ban. 
 Thou badest Rado, the jailer, unbar the doors 
 
 withal, 
 And forthwith bring me upward a captive to the 
 
 hall. 
 And dost thou know, Ban Strahin, what words thy 
 
 fierce lips said: 
 
 [45]
 
 " 'Slave ! Turkish snake ! Now would that 
 
 thou within my hold wert dead! 
 Canst thou then, like a hero, redeem thee with a 
 
 fee?' 
 "So ran thy question to me, and I told the 
 
 truth to thee: 
 " 'My life now could I ransom, could I come to 
 
 my hall, 
 To my father's land and my birthplace and my 
 
 fiefs one and all 
 
 My many farms and freeholds, the price of lib- 
 erty. 
 But thither to go, too well I know, hardly thou 
 
 trustest me. 
 I will give thee a good bondsman, even God who 
 
 does not feign, 
 And another bondsman, his good faith, that I bring 
 
 that ransom again.' 
 "Thou gavest thy trust to me that tide to go to 
 
 my white hall, 
 To my father's land and my birthplace, and my 
 
 fiefs one and all. 
 I came to my sad birthplace ; no more I knew good 
 
 luck; 
 On my houses and my birthplace the pestilence had 
 
 struck. 
 It smote the men and women; in my houses none 
 
 had stayed, 
 And my whole house had perished and my whole 
 
 possession strayed. 
 Fast-barred was all my sire's estate, and bolted 
 
 was the door. 
 
 [46]
 
 The Turks took farm and freehold for their own 
 
 forevermore. 
 And when I saw my houses all closed against me 
 
 stand, 
 That I had neither friend nor goods, then a good 
 
 plan I planned. 
 I rode post unto Yedren, to the vizier and the 
 
 tsar, 
 
 And the vizier boasted me for a hero in the war. 
 The tsar's vizier clothed me and gave a tent to 
 
 me, 
 
 And the great raven charger and shining panoply. 
 For the tsar's man forever in his book my name 
 
 they set, 
 And thou hast come to me to-day to claim of me 
 
 thy debt. 
 But, ban, I have not a penny ; and woe is on thee 
 
 this day, 
 That thou comest to die in folly amidst the tsar's 
 
 array." 
 The ban looked on the dervish. Forthwith the 
 
 man he knew; 
 From the steed he vaulted, and clasped him, and 
 
 to his bosom drew: 
 "Brother in God, old dervish, no debt is due to 
 
 me. 
 
 I seek no money, brother, nor any ransom fee. 
 I seek the strong Vlah Aliya, who hath overthrown 
 
 my hall, 
 And hath taken my beloved to be his bounden 
 
 thrall.
 
 Tell me of him, thou dervish, and do not me be- 
 tray 
 
 Unto the Turkish army, who are yearning me to 
 
 slay." 
 
 "By God," then said the dervish, "thou ban, 
 thou falcon-one, 
 
 The strength of this my faith to thee is firmer than 
 the stone. 
 
 Shouldst thou with the sword's edges smite half 
 the army dead, 
 
 Yet would I not betray thee, nor trample on thy 
 bread. 
 
 Though I ate of it in prison, thou gavest me store 
 of wine; 
 
 Thou gavest the milk-white loaves to me that I 
 might freely dine; 
 
 Oft in the sun's light glorious I warmed me in the 
 morn; 
 
 Thou didst set me free upon my word, wherein I 
 am forsworn. 
 
 I could not keep my word to thee, returning to 
 thy hall: 
 
 Faith it was hard for me to keep without the where- 
 withal ! 
 
 And for the Turk, Ban Strahin, Vlah Aliya in- 
 solent 
 
 On the high mount of Golech he pitches now his 
 tent. 
 
 But, Strahin, go from Kosovo, or a fool's death 
 diest thou here. 
 
 Trust not thy hand, nor the sharp brand, nor the 
 venom of the spear. 
 [48]
 
 To pass that Turk in the mountain, it is a hero's 
 
 deed; 
 In his arms alive will he take thee, thy weapons 
 
 and thy steed. 
 He will break thine arms asunder; he will blind 
 
 thee living, O ban." 
 
 Laughed Strahin: "Dervish, pity me not be- 
 cause of any man, 
 
 But to the Turkish army betray me not this tide." 
 And thereupon the dervish unto the ban replied : 
 "My faith is firmer than the stone, and plighted 
 
 thee indeed. 
 For even shouldst thou madden the anger of thy 
 
 steed, 
 And riding on the army the half thereof shouldst 
 
 slay, 
 
 Yet I will not at any time thee to the Turks be- 
 tray." 
 The ban spoke and departed, but he turned 01 
 
 the stallion white: 
 "Dervish, thou waterest thy steed at daybrealj 
 
 and at night 
 In the waters of Sitnitsa. Say where the fords 
 
 are found 
 The fords in the cool water that my horse may 
 
 not be drowned." 
 Said the dervish: "Thou Servian falcon, a ford 
 
 shalt thou find indeed, 
 Where'er thou enterest the water, for thy valor 
 
 and thy steed." 
 
 The ban forded that water; on the milk-white 
 steed he sped 
 
 [49]
 
 Over the mount of Golech with the great sun over- 
 head. 
 It warms all things beneath it, both the near and 
 
 the far, 
 And it shines down on K6sovo and the army of 
 
 the tsar. 
 
 And now behold Vlah Aliya, the strong and in- 
 solent, 
 Ban Strahin's bride that kisses in the shadow of 
 
 the tent. 
 
 He hath an evil custom, for ever does he fall 
 In slumber of a morning, when the sun beats over 
 
 all. 
 He dreamed a dream upon that tide, and heavy 
 
 lay his head 
 On the breast of the beloved that Strahinya had 
 
 wed. 
 At the tent door she fondled him, but her eyes 
 
 went to and fro 
 
 Over the Turkish army on the field of Kosovo. 
 She sees what manner are the tents, what steeds 
 
 the heroes ride, 
 And by mischance towards Golech she turned her 
 
 eyes aside. 
 She slapped the Turk on the right cheek; and, 
 
 "Master," did she cry, 
 "Rise up, Vlah Aliya! stir thyself! or forthwith 
 
 mayst thou die! 
 Now belt thou on thy war-belt and thy fair mail 
 
 likewise ! 
 Ban Strahin comes that will cut off thine head, or 
 
 blind thine eyes." 
 
 [50]
 
 Vlah Aliya wakened from his dream and flashed 
 
 up like the fire; 
 His eye was proud, he laughed aloud: 
 
 "Thou 
 
 Strahinya's desire, 
 Thou art afraid, Wallachian maid; thou fearest 
 
 him eachwhere! 
 When I bear thee unto Yedren, yet wilt thou see 
 
 him there! 
 Yon captain is not Strahin; a tsar's man rideth 
 
 here: 
 Either the tsar hath sent him, or Mehmet, the 
 
 vizier. 
 He bids that I submit me, nor smite the host of 
 
 the tsar. 
 Tsar and vizier, mayhap they fear to feel my 
 
 scimitar. 
 Fear not, what time I smite him with the keen, 
 
 shining sword 
 That no more captains of the tsar come hither for 
 
 their lord." 
 But the ban's bride spake unto him : 
 
 "My mas- 
 ter, prithee see! 
 That is no Turkish captain a blindness light on 
 
 thee! 
 Nay, but my master Strahin, that did my body 
 
 clip. 
 Do I not know both eye and brow and the black 
 
 beard of his lip? 
 Do I not know his milk-white horse with the spot 
 
 of brown and tan, 
 [51]
 
 And the tawny hound beside him, the good hound 
 
 Karaman ? 
 Jest not with life, my gallant lord." 
 
 But when 
 
 Vlah Aliya heard, 
 The wrathful Turk leaped to his feet and straight 
 
 began to gird 
 His girdle with the poniards and the scimitar 
 
 thereto. 
 And he giveth heed to the black steed, while the 
 
 ban nearer drew. 
 The ban is very careful, but he cursed him, nor 
 
 bowed his head 
 
 After the Turkish fashion ; and unto him he said : 
 "Art thou then there, thou dastard thou 
 
 traitor to the tsar? 
 Whose women hast thou taken that round thy 
 
 camp-fires are? 
 And whose beloved hast thou kist in the shadow 
 
 of the tent? 
 Come out to battle against me, thou strong and 
 
 insolent." 
 The Turk was very angry. He sprang with 
 
 might and main 
 Unto the shoulder of the horse, and caught the 
 
 bridle-rein. 
 The ban bode not his coming, but straight against 
 
 him drove; 
 He lifted the iron spear on high, and hurled it 
 
 from above. 
 And the strong Turk, Vlah Aliya, reached out and 
 
 caught the spear, 
 
 [62]
 
 And he .spake unto Strahin : 
 
 "Dastard, what dost 
 
 thou here? 
 Here are no maids of Shumadin to scatter with a 
 
 cry, 
 
 But who fears not vizier or tsar, Vlah Aliya am I ! 
 And I dread not any hero in the army of the tsar ; 
 To me as ants upon the grass all in that army are. 
 And thou thinkest in the lists this tide to battle 
 
 with me here!" 
 
 He spake and very suddenly he cast the battle- 
 spear, 
 Eager to wound. But the good God aided B&n 
 
 Strahin well. 
 His white steed, when the spear flew by, down on 
 
 his knees he fell. 
 High overhead the great spear flashed, and broke 
 
 on a stone in three. 
 Up to the boss that guards the hand was it broken 
 
 utterly. 
 Now when the spears were broken, each champion 
 
 drew his mace; 
 Vlah Aliya smote on Strahin and beat him from 
 
 his place, 
 Forward from out of the saddle on the white neck 
 
 of the steed. 
 Now the good God aided Strahin in the moment of 
 
 his need. 
 Nor Turk, nor Serb a steed doth curb of half that 
 
 worth to-day. 
 The beast swung head and shoulder in the middle 
 
 of the fray, 
 
 [53]
 
 And his lord out of that danger to the saddletree 
 
 threw back ; 
 And upon that Turkish devil the ban made his 
 
 attack. 
 But the Turk out of the saddle would neither fall 
 
 nor flee, 
 Though 'neath the blows his horse had sunk in the 
 
 black dust to the knee. 
 The spiky maces in their hands were shattered left 
 
 and right, 
 And forth they drew the sabers, and anew they 
 
 fought the fight. 
 But lo, the great Ban Strahin at his belt had such 
 
 a blade 
 That a pair of smiths must forge it with three men 
 
 there to aid! 
 From Sunday unto Sunday till the steel was waxen 
 
 cold 
 Had those same craftsmen cooled it within the 
 
 earthen mold; 
 And thereafter had they sharpened it by laying 
 
 on the sledge. 
 Smote the Turk, but Strahin waited edge against 
 
 saber-edge, 
 Till he smote hard against it, and the Turk's 
 
 blade broke in half. 
 This saw the ban and in he ran, and in his heart 
 
 did laugh 
 
 As he prest in upon him, smiting on either hand, 
 To strike his head from his shoulders with the 
 
 edges of the brand. 
 
 [54]
 
 Hero smote against hero ; the Turk good ward he 
 made, 
 
 He kept his head and shoulders with the truncheon 
 of the blade. 
 
 With the remnant of his weapon he beat the saber 
 back; 
 
 And bit by bit as he smote on it to pieces did he 
 hack 
 
 The saber of Ban Strahin. Two blades in frag- 
 ments lay. 
 
 Then leaped they from the horses, and hurled 
 the hilts away. 
 
 They gripped each other by the throat like 
 dragons at that tide; 
 
 All day till noon they wrestled upon the moun- 
 tain side; 
 
 Till on the Turk's pale lips the foam like snow 
 new-fallen stood, 
 
 And the white foam on Strahin's lip was flecked 
 with drops of blood; 
 
 The blood upon his garments and on his jack- 
 boots ran. 
 
 But when the pain had gripped him, at last out 
 
 spake the ban: 
 
 "My love, God's curse upon thee! What 
 travail dost thou see? 
 
 Take up a splinter of the sword, and strike the 
 Turk or me. 
 
 Think which of us, beloved, is dearer unto thee." 
 But thereto the Turk spake fiercely: 
 
 "Beloved 
 of the ban, 
 
 [55]
 
 Strike him, for thou shalt never more be dear unto 
 
 the man ; 
 But aye his sharp reproaches against thee shall be 
 
 bent, 
 Because thou once wast with me in the shadow of 
 
 the tent. 
 
 But I will love thee always, nor ever thee disdain. 
 In Yedren thirty serving-maids shall bear thy 
 
 sleeves and train; 
 Sugar and honey ever more shall be set for thee to 
 
 eat; 
 With ducats will I deck thee from thy head unto 
 
 thy feet: 
 Strike now the ban." 
 
 All womankind are lightly 
 
 led astray. 
 
 She leaped and grasped a splinter of the sword- 
 blade where it lay. 
 She wrapped it in a napkin, lest it should wound 
 
 her hand, 
 And she sought to smite her wedded lord with the 
 
 fragment of the brand, 
 And guard Vlah Aliya's head. She cut the silver 
 
 plume in twain ; 
 She clove the milk-white turban that guarded him 
 
 in vain; 
 The blood flowed down the hero's face, and was 
 
 like to blind his eyes, 
 And the ban dreaded sore that tide to die in foolish 
 
 wise. 
 But suddenly within him the thoughts together 
 
 ran, 
 
 [56]
 
 And out of his white throat he called on the hound 
 
 Karaman 
 A hound trained to the hunting. He called the 
 
 hound by name, 
 And with a bound the tawny hound to help his 
 
 master came, 
 
 And bit the ban's beloved. A dog all women fear ; 
 She threw the blade upon the ground, and cuffed 
 
 the hound on the ear. 
 Screaming she fled across the mount; afar they 
 
 heard her cry; 
 But the strong Turk looked after to see where she 
 
 did fly. 
 And new strength burst upon the ban, and courage 
 
 great and new, 
 
 And hither and yon he drove the Turk, and wres- 
 tling overthrew. 
 Howe'er so hard the Turk might guard, he struck 
 
 from underneath, 
 And, leaping in under the chin, he fastened with 
 
 his teeth, 
 As the wolf throttling a lamb. Then he leaped up 
 
 from the ground, 
 And with a mighty voice he called after the tawny 
 
 hound, 
 That the beast should cease pursuing the maid 
 
 the ban had wed ; 
 And swift along the mountain to the Turkish host 
 
 she fled. 
 But the ban would not let her; he caught her by 
 
 the hand; 
 
 [57]
 
 He brought her back unto the place where the 
 
 dappled steed did stand. 
 He took the horse by the shoulders ; he threw her 
 
 on behind; 
 Then rode he deviously along, the homeward way 
 
 to find. 
 
 Away from the tsar's army he turned the bridle- 
 rein, 
 Till he came in to his wife's kin at Krushevats on 
 
 the plain, 
 And old Yug Bogdan and his sons rose, when they 
 
 saw him come; 
 
 They took him to their bosoms, and gave him wel- 
 come home. 
 But when Yug Bogdan saw his plight his tears ran 
 
 down amain: 
 "Now fair be all thy fortune, that thou art home 
 
 again. 
 Strong are the Turkish heroes, the soldiers of the 
 
 tsar; 
 A fighting man to wound the ban they must have 
 
 sought afar." 
 But the nine brothers feared him, till the ban to 
 
 them spake : 
 "Dread nothing, my good brethren, nor be 
 
 troubled for my sake. 
 With the tsar there was no hero to conquer me in 
 
 fight. 
 Would ye then hear who wounded me, and whose 
 
 hand did me smite? 
 When with the Turk I battled, O thou good father 
 
 mine, 
 
 [58]
 
 Then my beloved smote me this dearest child of 
 
 thine; 
 She set aside my love that tide, and to the Turk 
 
 gave aid." 
 Yug flashed up like a living fire, and to his sons 
 
 he said: 
 "Slash the she-wolf in pieces with the nine blades 
 
 of the brands !" 
 The strong sons heard their father, and upon her 
 
 set their hands. 
 But Strahin will not let them. He speaketh to 
 
 them apace: 
 
 "My nine good brethren, wherefore do ye your- 
 selves disgrace? 
 Why are your knives unscabbarded ? Heroes ye 
 
 are, I know! 
 
 But why were not your sabers with me at Kosovo, 
 To do great deeds against the Turk when danger 
 
 ran most high? 
 And harken this, my brethren; your sister shall 
 
 not die. 
 Without your aid already, an I wished, she had 
 
 been slain. 
 Yet, should I slaughter all her kin, no comrade 
 
 then would drain, 
 Reveling with me deliciously, the cool cups of the 
 
 wine. 
 So now have I given my pardon unto this bride of 
 
 mine." 
 There are not many on earth to match him, 
 
 man to man, 
 
 And scanty are the heroes as gallant as the ban. 
 [59]
 
 TSAR LAZAR AND TSARITSA MfLITSA 
 
 TSAR LAZAR sat at dinner, and with him at the wine 
 Sat Militsa, the Tsaritsa, beside her lord to dine. 
 Unto her lord said Militsa : 
 
 "O Servians king and 
 
 crown, 
 
 To-morrow unto Kosovo the army goeth down, 
 Thy voyvodas and captains. No man thou leavest 
 
 at home 
 With a letter to go to Kosovo and hither again to 
 
 come. 
 Thou leadest my nine brethren, Yug Bogdan's 
 
 children nine. 
 Leave me one brother of them all to cheer this heart 
 
 of mine." 
 To her spake Lazar of the Serbs : "Which wilt 
 
 thou have with thee 
 In the palace?" And she made answer: "Let 
 
 Boshko stay with me." 
 Then spake Tsar Lazar: 
 
 "Lady, to-morrow, when 
 
 day comes on, 
 And the white dawn breaketh, and the world is 
 
 warmed of the great sun, 
 And they open the gates of the city, go thou 
 
 unto the arch, 
 Wherethrough unto the muster my hosts begin to 
 
 march. 
 The spears shine over the chargers : before them will 
 
 Boshko ride, 
 
 [601
 
 And he carries high the standard with a great cross 
 
 glorified. 
 Bless him ! Let give the standard to whomsoever 
 
 he will; 
 But let him back to the palace, abiding with thee 
 
 still." 
 Now when the gates were opened, what time the 
 
 morning shone, 
 Then forth unto the gateway Queen Militsa came 
 
 down, 
 And stood beneath the portal in the shadow of the 
 
 arch, 
 What time unto the muster the host began to 
 
 march. 
 The spears shone over the chargers: before them 
 
 Boshko rode 
 On a bay steed, and his rich weed with shining 
 
 goldwork glowed, 
 And the standard that he carried swept round him 
 
 fold on fold; 
 Over the steed it bellied; thereon was an apple of 
 
 gold; 
 From the apple rose gilded crosses, and tassels 
 
 from them did hang, 
 And brushed against his shoulders as in the wind 
 
 they swang. 
 Queen Militsa sprang forward to the bay stallion's 
 
 head, 
 And she clasped arms round her brother, and unto 
 
 him she said: 
 "My brother Boshko, thou art become the tsar 
 
 his gift to me. 
 
 161]
 
 Thou shalt not go to Kosovo ; he gives his blessing 
 
 to thee ; 
 Thou shalt give the golden banner to the hero of 
 
 thy will, 
 And be my brother in Krushevats, that I may have 
 
 thee still." 
 Boshko answered her straightway: 
 
 "Get back 
 
 to thy hall this tide! 
 I would not turn nor give up the flag with the great 
 
 cross glorified, 
 Though the tsar should give me Krushevats for 
 
 ever and a day; 
 For the remnant of the army concerning me would 
 
 say: 
 " 'Where is the captain, Boshko that same 
 
 that dared not go 
 To perish for Christ his Cross and Faith on the 
 
 field of Kosovo?' " 
 
 And forthwith he rode the stallion abroad be- 
 neath the arch; 
 And lo, Yug Bogdan and seven sons began thereby 
 
 to march! 
 She stopped each of the seven to whom her heart 
 
 did yearn, 
 
 But none of all the seven aside for her would turn. 
 With the tsar's chargers Voin, her brother, came 
 
 that way; 
 All covered with a panoply of shining gold were 
 
 they. 
 She seized the dun steed under him, and took him 
 
 by the head; 
 
 [62]
 
 She took her brother in her arms, and unto him she 
 
 said: 
 "My brother Voin, thou art become the tsar his 
 
 gift to me; 
 Thou shalt not go to Kosovo ; he gives his blessing 
 
 to thee. 
 Thou shalt give the tsar's war horses to the hero of 
 
 thy will, 
 And be my brother in Krushevats, that I may have 
 
 thee still." 
 Voin answered her straightway: 
 
 "Get back to 
 
 thy hall this tide! 
 I would not turn nor give over the steeds that the 
 
 tsar shall ride; 
 
 What though in wisdom I foresaw all of my over- 
 throw, 
 I would ride to death for the Cross and the Faith 
 
 on level Kosovo." 
 Forthwith right through the gateway he spurred 
 
 the charger well; 
 And when the queen that sight had seen, on the 
 
 stone in a swoon she fell. 
 And when King Lazar saw it, the tears ran down 
 
 his face; 
 And he looked and called Goluban, his henchman, 
 
 from his place: 
 "Goluban, my good henchman, dismount thee in 
 
 this hour, 
 And bear thy lady in thine arms up to the slender 
 
 tower. 
 
 [63]
 
 For this the deed of my command God's pardon 
 shalt thou find ; 
 
 Thou shalt not go to Kosovo, but linger here be- 
 hind." 
 
 Weeping, Goluban heard it. He dismounted in 
 that hour ; 
 
 He bore his lady in his arms up to the slender 
 tower ; 
 
 But his will he could not overcome, nor bear to 
 linger so, 
 
 But steed bestrode, and hard he rode away to 
 
 Kosovo. 
 
 When rose up the white morning, from Kosovo 
 there wheeled 
 
 A pair of great black ravens from the broad battle- 
 field; 
 
 They perched on the white palace whence Lazar 
 issued forth; 
 
 The one cawed loud and vainly, the one spake words 
 
 of worth: 
 
 "Is this Tsar Lazar's palace, where he was wont 
 to dwell? 
 
 Is there no man or woman within the citadel?" 
 None heard but the Queen Militsa ; she came be- 
 fore the wall, 
 
 And unto those two ravens her voice aloud did call' 
 "I conjure you, black ravens, sitting upon the 
 coign, 
 
 From whence come ye this morning? Did ye see 
 the armies join? 
 
 Have the armies smitten together in the field of 
 Kosovo ? 
 
 [64]
 
 In God his name I conjure you, who hath the over- 
 throw?" 
 And the black ravens answered: 
 
 "At Kosovo, 
 
 O queen, 
 Two hosts that smote at Kosovo, we saw them fight 
 
 yestreen. 
 Both tsars are down ; and of the Turks a remnant 
 
 doth remain, 
 But all the Serbs are slaughtered, or wounded on 
 
 the plain." 
 They spoke ; and lo, Milutin came before the 
 
 queen to stand! 
 Wounded full sore, the henchman bore one hand 
 
 in the other hand; 
 Seventeen wounds were on him ; his steed with blood 
 
 was red. 
 And unto him the weeping queen rough words in 
 
 anger said: 
 
 "What treachery, Milutin, is this unto the tsar?" 
 But he said : 
 
 "Help me down, lady, from the 
 
 great steed of war; 
 Lave me with the cool water, and with the ruddy 
 
 wine, 
 Do thou, O royal lady, anoint these wounds of 
 
 mine." 
 Queen Mflitsa she lifted him down from the steed 
 
 of war; 
 She laved him with white water, and red wine from 
 
 the jar. 
 
 [66]
 
 And when he was himself again, she questioned him 
 
 withal : 
 
 "Ah, what betid at Kosovo? Did the Tsar 
 Lazar fall? 
 
 My father and my brethren, are they fallen on the 
 plain ? 
 
 Lord Milosh, and Vuk Brankovich, and Strahin, 
 
 are they slain?" 
 The servant spake: 
 
 "My lady, they are dead at 
 Kosovo, 
 
 Where Lazar the tsar glorious fell in the over- 
 throw. 
 
 The Turk and Servian lances lie shattered every- 
 where, 
 
 But many more of Christian spears, alas, were 
 broken there, 
 
 Defending good Tsar Lazar in the fury of the fray. 
 
 But Yug Bogdan perished, lady, in the fight of the 
 first day; 
 
 Eight of his sons, those champions, were slaugh- 
 tered side by side ; 
 
 For they would not use treachery, and by each 
 other died. 
 
 Still Boshko's banner of the cross hurled back the 
 Turks in droves, 
 
 To and fro over Kosovo, as a falcon harries doves. 
 
 Where the blood flowed up to the knee died Stra- 
 hinya the ban; 
 
 By Sitnitsa fell Milosh, where the cool waters ran. 
 
 There perished many Turks amain ; and Milosh in 
 his ire 
 
 [66]
 
 Hath slain the Sultan Murad God be gracious to 
 
 his sire ! 
 And a good twelve thousand Turks that tide. And 
 
 aye the Serbs will know 
 His deeds of war while men are left to tell of 
 
 Kosovo. 
 
 But ask not of the cursed Vuk ! May God's dam- 
 nation burst 
 Upon his sire and all his tribe, and the whole house 
 
 accurst ! 
 J Twas he betrayed the tsar in war unto the Turkish 
 
 spear, 
 And fled with his twelve thousand men, the traitor 
 
 cavalier !" 
 
 [67]
 
 FRAGMENTS OF K6SOVO BALLADS 
 
 I 
 
 MTJRAD the tsar hath come in war down upon 
 
 Kosovo ; 
 He sent a letter to Krushevats that the tsar his will 
 
 might know : 
 "Ho, Lazar, lord of Servia, with sense it scarce 
 
 accords, 
 That there should be one empery 'neath the power 
 
 of two lords, 
 One rayah that pays double tax ! We cannot both 
 
 rule here ! 
 So render me up your city keys and the taxes for 
 
 seven year. 
 
 But if thou wilt not send them, abide at Kosovo, 
 That to our hand we may sunder the land with a 
 
 keen saber blow." 
 When the fine-written letter Tsar Lazarus had 
 
 read, 
 He looked upon the letter and bitter tears he shed. 
 
 [68]
 
 II 
 
 Bitter was the tsar's curse to hear ; aye ! and a word 
 
 of woe: 
 "Who comes not to the battle with me at 
 
 Kosovo, 
 Let nothing grow beneath his hand in the field that 
 
 he shall till ; 
 Let not the white wheat spring in the field, nor the 
 
 vine shoot on the hill!" 
 
 [69]
 
 m 
 
 Lazar, the Tsar of Servia, holds his high holiday. 
 In the secret place, in Krushevats, with all his lords 
 
 he lay. 
 All of the lords and lordings were come with him to 
 
 dine: 
 At his right hand sat Yug Bogdan and Yug's 
 
 strong children nine; 
 On his left sat Vuk Brankovich ; at the far end of 
 
 the board, 
 With two more Servian voyvodas, was Milosh the 
 
 young lord; 
 Ivan Kosanchich was the one, the other of the 
 
 twain 
 Was Milan Toplitsa. And the tsar arose a health 
 
 to drain 
 
 Unto the Servian nobles; he lifted the beaker up: 
 "O voyvodas and captains, to whom shall I 
 
 pledge this cup? 
 If I pledge it unto the oldest, to Yug shall I drink 
 
 this hour ; 
 
 I shall pledge it to Vuk Brankovich, if I drink be- 
 cause of power; 
 
 If I pledge to whomsoever is dear to me and mine, 
 I'll drink to my good brethren, Yug Bogdan's chil- 
 dren nine; 
 For beauty to Ivan Kosanchich, and to Milan for 
 
 his height; 
 
 But unto Milosh 6bilich for the glory of his might. 
 To none other will I drink it, while I have strength 
 
 and breath : 
 
 [70]
 
 A health unto Milosh Obilich, and faith and broken 
 
 faith ! 
 Faith first and treason to follow ! To-morrow at 
 
 Kosovo 
 Thou shalt betray me, and after to the tsar of the 
 
 Turks shalt thou go. 
 Hail to thee, and a health to thee, and the cup's 
 
 delight be thine f 
 Rise up, Milosh the voyvoda, and lightly drink the 
 
 wine !" 
 Milosh rose swiftly to his feet, and bowed to the 
 
 black earth: 
 
 "Praise to thee, Lazar the glorious, and a greet- 
 ing to thy worth ! 
 Praise for thy gift and greeting, but for thy speech 
 
 no praise ! 
 Since I was never a traitor, by my faith, in all my 
 
 days, 
 Nor ever will work treason. But at Kosovo to- 
 
 morn 
 Belike for the Cross of Christ and his Faith shall I 
 
 be overborne. 
 But treachery is at thy knee, and drinketh before 
 
 thy face; 
 There sits the traitor Brankovich, of the accursed 
 
 race. 
 To-morrow on St. Vitus' day, on the field of 
 
 Kosovo, 
 Who of us twain is true or false, all men shall 
 
 clearly know. 1 
 
 i As Mijatovich remarks (Servia and the Servians, 1908, 
 p. 183), there is here in the original " a fine play on the 
 
 [71]
 
 An God me speed, will I ride indeed to Kosovo in 
 
 the dawn, 
 To slash the throat of Murad the tsar and set my 
 
 foot thereon. 
 An God give me good fortune, safely returning 
 
 here, 
 I will lay hand on Brankovich, and bind him to 
 
 this spear, 
 As flax on the long distaff is bound by a woman's 
 
 hand, 
 And to and fro in Kosovo will I bear him through 
 
 the land." 
 
 word vid," which means both Vitus and sight. The literal 
 translation is: "Tomorrow is the fair day of St. Vitus (or 
 of Sight) ; we shall see on the field of Kosovo, etc." 
 
 [72]
 
 IV 
 
 "Ho, brother Ivan Kosanchich, hast thou spied the 
 
 Turks' array? 
 Have the Turks a mighty army? Can we beat 
 
 them in the fray?" 
 Quoth Ivan : 
 
 "Milosh Obilich, my own good 
 
 brother dear, 
 I have spied the Turkish army, and a great host 
 
 have they here. 
 Should all of us be changed to salt, we scarce should 
 
 salt their meat. 
 Full fifteen days throughout their host have I 
 
 walked with nimble feet, 
 Nor came on end or number, howsoever I might 
 
 march ; 
 From the marble to the maple, thence to Sazliya 
 
 of the arch, 
 From the arched bridge to Zvechan the whole land 
 
 have they ta'en ; 
 From Zvechan through Chechan to the wood they 
 
 seized the mount amain. 
 Ranks of horses and heroes, spears like a mountain 
 
 wall, 
 And like the clouds of heaven are their banners 
 
 over all; 
 And like the snows from heaven are their tents 
 
 upon the plain ; 
 And should a storm rise o'er them, on the earth it 
 
 would not rain, 
 
 [73]
 
 But on horses and on heroes would the rain fall 
 
 from on high. 
 The tsar took Lab and Sftnitsa and Mazgit field 
 
 thereby." 
 Still Milosh Obilich questions him: 
 
 "Ivan, 
 
 brother in war, 
 Tell me where lieth, brother, the tent of Murad the 
 
 tsar; 
 For unto the Tsar Lazarus my word is given and 
 
 gone, 
 That I would slash Tsar Murad's throat and set my 
 
 foot thereon." 
 But Ivan answers him lightly: 
 
 "Brother, a 
 fool art thou ! 
 Where in the center of the camp Tsar Murad lieth 
 
 now, 
 Wert thou a winged goshawk from out high heaven 
 
 sped, 
 Thou couldst not in thine anger hurt a hair upon 
 
 his head." 
 Then Milosh speaketh to Ivan: 
 
 "Ivan, my 
 brother dear, 
 Speak not thus to Tsar Lazarus, lest he and the 
 
 host should fear; 
 But unto the Tsar Lazarus thus and thus shalt 
 
 thou say: 
 
 " 'Strong are the Turks, but we, mayhap, will 
 shake them in the fray, 
 
 [74]
 
 And lightly overcome them, for no host of battle 
 
 they are, 
 But priests and pilgrims and merchants, and knaves 
 
 that know not war, 
 That are come abroad together to eat Tsar Murad's 
 
 bread. 
 And for the royal army, the half are well-nigh 
 
 dead 
 From the grievous ill of heartache, that is a bitter 
 
 pain, 
 And the good steeds of that army are glandered 
 
 on the plain.' " 
 
 [75]
 
 "Who is the great hero that lifted once his hand, 
 And sundered well twelve Turkish heads with the 
 
 edges of the brand?" 
 "That is the brave Ban Strahin." 
 
 "What hero 
 cometh here, 
 That spitteth the Moslems two and two on the 
 
 edges of his spear, 
 And driveth them before him to Sitnitsa's gray 
 
 tide?" 
 "That is Srija the champion, whom men call the 
 
 Angry-Eyed." 
 "What hero on a white steed bears the flag of 
 
 the cross in his hands, 
 
 And all along he harries the flying Turks in bands, 
 And chases them in his anger to Sitnitsa the 
 
 flood?" 
 
 "That is Boshko the captain, of old Yug Bog- 
 dan's blood."
 
 THE BATTLE OP K6SOVO 
 
 A GKAY hawk from Jerusalem, with a swallow in 
 
 his beak, 
 
 Flew onward into Servia, Tsar Lazarus to seek. 
 Nay, it was never a great gray hawk with a swallow 
 
 that flew so far, 
 But Elij ah, our Lady's messenger, with her tidings 
 
 to the tsar. 
 Tsar Lazar read the letter: 
 
 "O king whom the 
 
 Serbs revere, 
 Wilt thou choose for thine own the Kingdom of 
 
 God or an earthly empire here? 
 For if, instead of a heavenly rule, thou choosest an 
 
 earthly realm, 
 
 Leap astride of the steed this tide and do on hau- 
 berk and helm; 
 Belt about thee the girdle of war and look to saber 
 
 and dirk, 
 Tighten at need the girth of the steed and here 
 
 shalt thou slaughter the Turk. 
 But if thou choosest the Empire of Christ, and a 
 
 kingdom of God's own, 
 Build him a church by Kosovo, but not of marble 
 
 stone; 
 But found it on silk and satin and its corners in 
 
 scarlet fine. 
 Therein shall thine armies take of Christ the white 
 
 bread and the wine. 
 Thou shalt marshal the army of the Serbs, and 
 
 upon that dreadful day 
 
 [77]
 
 In the van of the war thou shalt die, O tsar, with 
 
 the whole of thine array." 
 When the tsar heard the holy word, his thoughts 
 
 came two and two: 
 "Dear God, what is the whole of thine heart, and 
 
 what is the deed to do? 
 Which shall I hold for the better realm? Man's 
 
 sovereignty may die, 
 But the Kingdom of the Living God, its power 
 
 goes on for aye." 
 
 Tsar Lazarus has chosen at last God's King- 
 dom for his own ; 
 And he built a church at Kosovo, but not of marble 
 
 stone ; 
 
 On satin and on velvet he made the walls to stand, 
 And he summoned our lord the patriarch, and 
 
 bishops twelve to hand. 
 The armies came before him, what time the prayers 
 
 were said, 
 And the good priests gave to them Christ's wine 
 
 and milk-white bread. 
 And when on level Kosovo that army up was 
 
 drawn, 
 The Turks smote against Kosovo at the breaking 
 
 of the dawn. 
 Yug Bogdan with the vanguard came up against 
 
 their line; 
 The young gray hawks were with him, his gallant 
 
 children nine; 
 
 And after every standard came thrice three thou- 
 sand men, 
 
 78]
 
 But by Yug Bogdan's banner were thousands two 
 
 and ten. 
 
 They came upon the infidel, that army of renown, 
 And slashed and slew among them; seven pashas 
 
 smote they down. 
 The eighth gave way before them; Yug Bogdan 
 
 there was slain ; 
 His nine gray falcons and their host came never 
 
 home again. 
 The children of Marnyava moved on with their 
 
 array; 
 Vukashin, Goyko, Uglyesha were marshals of the 
 
 fray; 
 And the ninth Turkish pasha before their charge 
 
 fell back, 
 
 But tJglyesha and Goyko were slain in the attack, 
 Two of Marnyava's children ; and terribly, indeed, 
 Was King Vukashin wounded, and trampled by the 
 
 steed. 
 Now smitten was the center and smitten was the 
 
 van, 
 And Ertseg Stepan with the rear into the battle 
 
 ran. 
 Brave warriors had Ertseg, full sixty thousand 
 
 men; 
 They trampled through the tumult and smote the 
 
 Turks again. 
 Nine pashas fell before them, the tenth drew back 
 
 in dread; 
 But Ertseg and his army were numbered with the 
 
 dead. 
 
 [79]
 
 And now rode out Tsar Lazarus with his whole 
 
 host along, 
 
 Seventy thousand gallant Serbs and seven thou- 
 sand strong. 
 They scattered the Turks by Kosovo; they scarce 
 
 would let them stand 
 
 To look upon the army for the lifting of the brand. 
 Then would the tsar have won the war for Servia 
 
 by God's aid 
 God's curse be on Vuk Brankovich, the dastard 
 
 that betrayed 
 The father of his wife that tide! the tsar of all 
 
 the land! 
 The Turks smote down Tsar Lazarus with the 
 
 edges of the brand. 
 Seven and seventy thousand men lay dead upon the 
 
 sod, 
 All gallant Serbs, and their pure blood was dear 
 
 unto their God. 
 
 [80]
 
 HOW MILOSH 6BILICH SLEW THE SUL- 
 TAN MURAD 
 
 TSAR MURAD sat beneath his tent with the pashas 
 
 of his power 
 And his viziers, and counsel took what way to smite 
 
 the Giaour 
 And win with least disaster; when lo there came 
 
 from afar 
 The vizier Osman running to claim reward of the 
 
 tsar. 
 He kissed the hand and the garment, himself to the 
 
 earth he bowed, 
 And thus to Murad, the Turkish tsar, the vizier 
 
 spake aloud: 
 
 "Murad, the Sun of all the East, holy Ma- 
 homet's heir! 
 Rejoice! the Servian empire thou hast conquered 
 
 everywhere ! 
 Here come three Servian voyvodas that have chiefly 
 
 made us fear; 
 They come hither to surrender, for down have they 
 
 turned the spear." 
 It pleased the Sultan Murad ; it was pleasant in 
 
 his ears ; 
 Woes plagued him not. He spake unto the pashas 
 
 and viziers: 
 "Brave pashas, glorious viziers, my captains of 
 
 command, 
 Shall I reach to the Wallachians my foot or my 
 
 white hand?" 
 
 [81]
 
 Said the viziers : "0 glorious lord, put not thy 
 
 hand to shame; 
 Shame were it to reach out to one of the Wallachian 
 
 name! 
 Stretch out thy foot unto them, and let them kiss 
 
 it sweet, 
 And let them be forever at all times 'neath thy 
 
 feet." 
 Outspake Vizier Ushtugliya: "Tsar Murad, 
 
 our crown of gold, 
 Shall we go out before them?" Then answered 
 
 Murad the bold: 
 " Go out to the field before them, and three 
 
 great cloths unfold; 
 Stretch one of red, the second of white, the third 
 
 green glorious. 
 When the slaves drive on their horses, if they come 
 
 to fight with us, 
 All three of the cloths beneath their feet will they 
 
 trample under here. 
 If they bring me the keys of the cities and the 
 
 taxes for seven year, 
 On the red cloth will they trample, the red and the 
 
 white beside, 
 But the green will they lift on their lances and 
 
 thereunder will they ride." 
 When the tsar's troopers heard it, before the 
 
 three they flew; 
 Before the Servian voyvodas the three great cloths 
 
 they drew. 
 
 When the voyvodas drove on the steeds, they tram- 
 pled the cloths all three; 
 82]
 
 And when Ushtugliya saw it, to Murad the tsar 
 
 said he: 
 "Lo, tsar, the servants of Lazar have trampled 
 
 every cloth! 
 Under foot have they trampled them, for a sign 
 
 that they are wroth, 
 And desire to-day their quarrel to undertake with 
 
 thee, 
 Tsar Murad; they bring not hither of any city 
 
 the key." 
 The bold Tsar Murad answered : 
 
 "Not so, my 
 
 children brave ! 
 Had they been eager to quarrel, long since had they 
 
 drawn the glaive ; 
 Drunk are the Giaours, and in drunkenness have 
 
 trampled the cloth amain." 
 Meanwhile with his brethren was Milosh come, on 
 
 his steed, the Crane. 
 Down he got from the charger, and out the tsar's 
 
 grooms flew 
 To hold the Crane for Milosh ; no rein to them he 
 
 threw, 
 He gave him to Ivan Kosanchich. To the tent of 
 
 Murad the strong 
 
 Forthwith Milosh the voyvoda went hastily along. 
 Murad stretched out his foot to him over the tapes- 
 tries, 
 And spoke, for he deemed that Milosh desired his 
 
 face to kiss: 
 "Now fair and soft, now soft and fair, O Lazar's 
 
 follower ; 
 
 [83]
 
 Trample not on my garment's edge, but kiss my 
 
 boot and spur." 
 Milosh flashed like a living fire, like a wolf on 
 
 Murad he sprang ; 
 
 Over him like a hayduk the biting blade he swang ; 
 From the midriff to the milk-white throat the tsar 
 
 alive he rent. 
 
 Murad gaped wordless on the ground; and under- 
 neath the tent 
 Flashing like lightning hither and yon the blade of 
 
 Milosh went. 
 He slaughtered all the tsar's viziers, Ushtugliya he 
 
 slew; 
 He smote the tsar's twelve guardsmen and the 
 
 tent ropes clove in two. 
 The bodyguard from Yedren, all of them had he 
 
 slain ; 
 Seventy heads had he smitten off ere he mounted 
 
 his steed, the Crane. 
 Then mounted the three sworn brethren and 
 
 charged through Kosovo. 
 Dear God, their onslaught on the Turk was no 
 
 cheap overthrow 1 
 When blood began a-flowing, 'twas good nearby to 
 
 stand 
 And see how the Turkish heads split wide beneath 
 
 the Servian brand. 
 Fierce slashed the Servian voyvodas, they slashed 
 
 the Turks like grass: 
 Whither went Milan Toplitsa, was room for a wain 
 
 to pass ; 
 
 [84]
 
 Whither went Ivan Kosanchich, lightly had two 
 
 moved on; 
 Whither went Milosh Obilich, abreast could three 
 
 have gone. 
 The whole of the Turkish host boiled up, rushing 
 
 to bar their track; 
 The voyvodas trampled the army like the earth 
 
 hard and black. 
 
 Shame to the Turks not to have ta'en their venge- 
 ance for the tsar! 
 'Neath the standard of Mahomet the whole host 
 
 came in war; 
 The pashas and fierce warriors, they flew into the 
 
 fight 
 Upon their faery chargers, the heroes good to 
 
 smite. 
 But Milosh and his comrades with the keen blade 
 
 cut their way. 
 A saber cuts not a mountain down in the swift 
 
 course of a day, 
 Nor the voyvodas all the army and Milan Top- 
 
 litsa cried: 
 "Avenge me, Milosh! At Kosovo have I failed 
 
 to-day at thy side." 
 But Milosh answered softly : "I forgive thee read- 
 
 fly, 
 
 My brother Milan; quickly shall I lie there by 
 
 thee." 
 Furiously the Turks set on, till Ivan Kosanchich 
 
 cried: 
 
 "Farewell, Milosh! At Kosovo have I perished 
 at thy side. 
 
 [85]
 
 Avenge me, Milosh, who swarest my brother sworn 
 
 to be!" 
 But Milosh the good voyvoda, O softly answered 
 
 he! 
 
 "My brother, Ivan, for this gift I hope in per- 
 fect faith, 
 For never yet was gallant man but yearned for a 
 
 gallant death." 
 
 And the faery steed he goaded, the battle- 
 charger, the Crane ; 
 He maddened on the maddened steed and smote the 
 
 Turks again. 
 
 Like a dragon over Kosovo the voyvoda did pass, 
 With the hot blood of the cursed Turks he reddened 
 
 all the grass. 
 
 Furious and shamefaced was the host, yet un- 
 avenged for the tsar 
 'Neath the standard of Mahomet the whole host 
 
 came in war 
 On Milosh the weary hero. Of wounds he got no 
 
 lack; 
 They beat him from his steed and bound his hands 
 
 behind his back. 
 
 And unto the Tsar Murad, Milosh they led along: 
 "Here is Milosh the voyvoda for thee, Tsar 
 
 Murad the strong! 
 Do thou tell us, Lord Glorious, in what wise we 
 
 shall him slay." 
 Murad still lived; unto them in a soft voice did 
 
 he say: 
 
 "Be ye not angry with him, and do not strike 
 him down 
 
 [86]
 
 For that he slew me; fortune of battle brought it 
 
 on 
 That a good hero slew me. Now draw up the host 
 
 to war, 
 And smite the Giaour! Let not his power outlive 
 
 the Servian tsar!" 
 
 [87]
 
 MUSICH STEVAN 
 
 IN Maydan white as silver, in his fair lordly house, 
 Idle sits Musich Stevan, on the good wine to ca- 
 rouse. 
 The servant Vaistina poured it forth his thirst to 
 
 slake, 
 
 And Stevan drank his fill thereof, and to the hench- 
 man spake: 
 
 "My good son Vaistina, I will lie down to sleep. 
 Do thou then eat thy dinner, and of the wine drink 
 
 deep, 
 And then look forth on the open sky because of my 
 
 behest, 
 To see if the day-star stand in the east, or the clear 
 
 moon in the west; 
 To see if the time be come at last for us to gird 
 
 and go 
 To the meeting place that the tsar hath set on the 
 
 field of Kosovo. 
 Thou knowest the oath we took, my son, and the 
 
 curse that then was laid 
 On the voyvoda or henchman that Tsar Lazarus 
 
 betrayed : 
 " 'Who springeth of a Servian house, in whom 
 
 Serb blood doth run, 
 Who cometh not to battle at Kosovo, may he never 
 
 have a son, 
 And no child of his heart whatever ! May naught 
 
 grow under his hand, 
 Neither the yellow liquor, nor the white wheat in 
 
 the land! 
 
 [88]
 
 May he like iron be rusted, and his stock dwindle 
 
 alway !' " 
 And thereupon brave Stevan on the bolster soft 
 
 he lay. 
 
 Vaistina the henchman, he sitteth him down to dine, 
 And at his good lord's table he hath his fill of the 
 
 wine, 
 And he goeth to look at the open sky because of 
 
 his lord's behest, 
 To see if the day-star stand in the east, or the clear 
 
 moon in the west. 
 And he seeth it is the season for them to gird and 
 
 g 
 Unto Tsar Lazar's meeting place in the field of 
 
 Kosovo. 
 
 He went unto the stables and led the horses forth ; 
 He saddled the steeds, and on them set caparisons 
 
 of worth, 
 One for himself, and the other is for his lord that 
 
 tide. 
 And he bringeth a flag from the palace, with a great 
 
 cross glorified; 
 Silk is the flag and golden are the crosses wrought 
 
 thereon, 
 And the icon of Stevan's patron, the icon of St. 
 
 John. 
 He set the banner against the wall, and went unto 
 
 the tower 
 To wake his lord, but his lady came to him in that 
 
 hour, 
 And she greeted and embraced him: 
 
 [89]
 
 "Brother in 
 
 God," said she, 
 
 "My servant Vaistina, by God I conjure thee, 
 And by St. John moreover. A faithful knave art 
 
 thou, 
 Henceforth shalt thou be my brother; but awake 
 
 not thy master now, 
 Since an evil dream of a flock of doves this night 
 
 is come to me. 
 With falcons twain from my lord his place to 
 
 Kosovo did they flee ; 
 Amid the camp of Murad they lighted nor came 
 
 again : 
 That is your omen, brother. So ponder lest you 
 
 be slain." 
 
 But the servant Vaistina, unto the dame said he : 
 "Sister, I cannot break my faith with the lord 
 
 of thee and me, 
 For thou wast not at the swearing, nor knowest 
 
 what curse was laid 
 On the voyvoda or henchman that Tsar Lazarus 
 
 betrayed : 
 " 'Who springeth of a Servian house, in whom 
 
 Serb blood doth run, 
 Who cometh not to battle at Kosovo, may he never 
 
 have a son, 
 And no child of his heart whatever ! May naught 
 
 grow under his hand, 
 Neither the yellow liquor, nor the white wheat in 
 
 the land! 
 May he like iron be rusted, and his stock dwindle 
 
 alway !' 
 
 [90]
 
 "And I dare not break my plighted faith to thy 
 
 lord and mine this day." 
 And he went to his lord in the tower: "Rise 
 
 up, it is time to go!" 
 Stevan stood up before him, and washed his neck 
 
 and brow, 
 And put on lordly raiment and an inlaid saber 
 
 fine; 
 To the fair glory of his God he drank the yellow 
 
 wine, 
 And to his own good journey and the fair cross 
 
 did he drain 
 The wine at his own table: he drank not there 
 
 again. 
 They mounted the two good chargers, they 
 
 spread the banners abroad ; 
 The drums beat and the flutes blew loud, and the 
 
 chiefs rode forth with God. 
 Over the field of Kosovo did the white morning 
 
 stand ; 
 The Maid of Kosovo met them with a cup in either 
 
 hand. 
 The cups are golden and empty. On her arm is a 
 
 tire for the head, 
 A cap with milk-white feathers that are wound with 
 
 silver thread, 
 And all about the midst thereof is it wrought with 
 
 golden braid, 
 And a row of pearls, moreover. Unto her Stevan 
 
 said: 
 "God's aid be with thee, my sister! And where 
 
 hast thou seen the fight? 
 [91]
 
 Where found'st thou the cap? Give unto me the 
 
 silken cap so white, 
 That I may find whose is the cap, what marshal's 
 
 it may be, 
 And be lucky upon my journey. And I will keep 
 
 faith with thee." 
 Answered the Maid of Kosovo: 
 
 "Thou lord of 
 
 kingly mien, 
 My mother roused me at daybreak ; at no fight 
 
 have I been. 
 
 I would draw water in Sitnitsa. He had over- 
 flowed his banks ; 
 And, brother, he beareth the horses and the heroes 
 
 in their ranks, 
 And turbans, and Turkish fezes, and the Serb 
 
 caps white as milk. 
 I plunged into the Sitnitsa, and seized the cap of 
 
 silk, 
 And I bear to my little brother the fair cap silken 
 
 and white, 
 For I am young, and the feathers are pleasant in 
 
 my sight." 
 She gave the cap to the marshal ; I wot he knew 
 
 it well ! 
 He smote himself, and the sad tears down from his 
 
 cheeks they fell. 
 The golden buckle on his sleeve rent the satin on 
 
 his knee: 
 "Grief unto God! The prince's curse hath fallen 
 
 upon me!"
 
 He gave her the cap, and royally out of his pouch 
 
 he told 
 In the hand of the Maid of Kosovo three ducats of 
 
 yellow gold: 
 "Take, sister! I go to Kosovo and the battle 
 
 on the plain. 
 By Christ, I will give thee a better gift, if I come 
 
 back again ! 
 But if I die in the fight thereby, aye keep my gift 
 
 in mind." 
 They spurred the steeds and hard away they 
 
 galloped like the wind; 
 They forded the flood of Sitnitsa, to the tsar's 
 
 camp they drew. 
 Three Turkish pashas Stevan smote down and 
 
 overthrew ; 
 Against the fourth was he storming, but the Turks 
 
 o'erwhelmed him then. 
 With him died Vaistina and twelve thousand of his 
 
 men. 
 
 There did the folly of the Serbs make as of noth- 
 ing worth 
 The glory of Tsar Lazar and the Kingdom of the 
 
 Earth.
 
 THE DEATH OF THE MOTHER OF THE 
 YtfGOVICHI 
 
 DEAR God, a mighty marvel is fallen at Kosovo ! 
 In the host were Yug's nine children and their 
 
 father the tenth also. 
 The mother of Yug's children she prayed God in 
 
 her pain 
 For the eyes of a hawk and a swan's white wing to 
 
 fly along the plain, 
 To see her nine strong children and Yug her lord 
 
 beside. 
 And what she prayed for, verily, God granted her 
 
 that tide. 
 God gave her eagle eyesight and the swan's pinion 
 
 white, 
 And she found low in Kosovo her children slain 
 
 in fight, 
 And old Yug Bogdan with them, and beside them 
 
 nine good spears, 
 And on the goodly spearshafts there perched nine 
 
 falcons fierce; 
 Roaming about the lances the chargers nine did 
 
 stray ; 
 Amid them were nine lions. And the steeds began 
 
 to neigh, 
 And the lions roared together, and the falcons 
 
 screamed aloud; 
 But the proud heart of the mother I wot it was 
 
 unbowed. 
 But the lions and the horses she took them by 
 
 the brows, 
 
 [94]
 
 And the good falcons with them, and brought them 
 
 to the house. 
 The wives of her strong children afar they saw her 
 
 come, 
 And calling like to cuckoos went out to lead her 
 
 home. 
 Moaning before the neighing steeds and the loud 
 
 beasts thereby 
 Wept the nine noble ladies, and the hawks took 
 
 up their cry. 
 Yet wept not that stern mother, and her heart was 
 
 undismayed. 
 About the middle of the night the steed of Dam- 
 
 yan neighed. 
 Then spake the mother to Damyan's wife: 
 
 "My 
 
 daughter, what is this? 
 
 And wherefore neighs in the nighttide that dap- 
 pled steed of his? 
 Is he hungry for the milk-white wheat? Doth he 
 
 thirst for Zvechan's wave?" 
 
 And the fair wife of Damyan in this wise an- 
 swer gave: 
 "My mother, Damyan's mother, no wheat the 
 
 steed doth crave, 
 Nor in the darkened nighttime doth he thirst for 
 
 Zvechan's wave; 
 But aye hath Damyan taught him, and bidden him 
 
 abide 
 To champ his oats till midnight, thereafter forth 
 
 to ride. 
 
 [95]
 
 Now he sorrows that his master mounts not his 
 
 back this tide." 
 Yet wept not that stern mother, and her heart 
 
 was undismayed. 
 
 That morn flew by two ravens, unto the shoul- 
 ders red, 
 
 Upon the blackness of their beaks the milk-white 
 froth it shone; 
 
 And they bare the hand of a hero and a golden 
 ring thereon. 
 
 In the bosom of the mother, the dead hand they let 
 fall; 
 
 And unto her daughter, Damyan's wife, in a loud 
 voice did she call: 
 
 "My daughter, wife of Damyan, what hero's hand 
 is this?" 
 
 And the daughter made her answer: "Our Dam- 
 yan's hand it is ; 
 
 Shall I not know the ring I gave the day that we 
 
 were wed?" 
 The mother lifted the hero's hand, and fondled 
 
 it, and said: 
 
 "O hand, who plucked thee off, and where apple- 
 like didst thou grow? 
 
 Thou grewest in my bosom ; thou wast plucked in 
 
 Kosovo." 
 
 Then swelled her heart within her, and her soul 
 was rent in twain 
 
 For her children and their father that at Kosovo 
 were slain. 
 
 [96]
 
 TSARITSA MILITSA AND VLADETA THE 
 VOYVODA 
 
 MILITSA the tsaritsa went walking up and down 
 Below the wall of Krushevats and the ramp of the 
 
 white town, 
 
 And also Vukosava and Mara, her daughters dear, 
 When Vladeta, the voyvoda, on a charger brown 
 
 drew near. 
 Sweated that steed had been, indeed, and the white 
 
 foam stained his side. 
 "God aid thee, marshal of the king!" Queen 
 
 Militsa she cried; 
 "Why sweats the stallion? Hast thou not come 
 
 from Kosovo this day? 
 Sawest thou not my lord and thine?" 
 
 And Vla- 
 deta did say: 
 "God aid me, Tsaritsa Mflitsa! I come from 
 
 Kosovo. 
 I saw not the tsar, but his white steed the Turks 
 
 drove to and fro, 
 Up and down by Kosovo, and I dread that the tsar 
 
 is slain." 
 When Queen Mflitsa had heard it, on her cheeks 
 
 the tears did rain, 
 And anew she asketh the voyvoda: 
 
 "What tidings 
 
 of the tsar? 
 Sawest thou Yug's nine children at Kosovo that 
 
 are; 
 
 [97]
 
 And the tenth, Yug Bogdan, their father?" 
 
 And 
 
 Vladeta replied: 
 "I rode by level Kosovo, and I saw them in that 
 
 tide 
 Yug and his nine strong children at Kosovo have 
 
 I seen. 
 Their arms were red to the shoulders, and red were 
 
 the sabers keen ; 
 Weary were their arms at Kosovo with cutting the 
 
 Moslems down." 
 Yet again unto the voyvoda the tsaritsa spake 
 
 on: 
 "Sawest thou Milosh and Brankovich, my 
 
 daughters' lords that are?" 
 Vladeta answered: 
 
 "At Kosovo, in the center 
 
 of the war, 
 There saw I Milosh Obilich that leaned on his 
 
 broken spear; 
 He is dead ere now, for the Moslems pressed on 
 
 him very near. 
 Vuk Brankovich I saw not. Never may sun him 
 
 see! 
 That same betrayed Tsar Lazar, the lord of thee 
 
 and me." 
 
 [98]
 
 THE MAID OF KOSOVO 
 
 UP rose the Maid of Kosovo before the break of 
 
 day, 
 On a Sunday morn, ere the bright sun had risen 
 
 on his way. 
 Unto her milk-white elbows she drew the white 
 
 sleeves up ; 
 She bore three loaves in a basket, and in either 
 
 hand a cup ; 
 Two beakers very beautiful, of hammered gold 
 
 and fine ; 
 The one held silver water, and the other ruddy 
 
 wine. 
 
 She came to level Kosovo in pity and in ruth, 
 And weeping walked along the place of the battle 
 
 of the youth, 
 The places of the slaughter, where the good Tsar 
 
 Lazar stood; 
 And with her hands she lifted up the heroes in their 
 
 blood. 
 The gallant lads she found alive, she washed with 
 
 water fine. 
 She gave them of the milk-white loaves, and cheered 
 
 them with ruddy wine. 
 
 To Pavle Orlovich she came, the ensign of his lord : 
 As yet he was alive, although sore smitten by the 
 
 sword ; 
 But by a shred of flesh his arm at the red shoulder 
 
 hung, 
 And the wound showed his shattered rib and the 
 
 white ghastly lung. 
 
 [99]
 
 She moved him from the pool of blood, she washed 
 him with water fine ; 
 
 She gave him of the milk-white loaves and of the 
 ruddy wine. 
 
 Gasping for breath he leaned to her, and trem- 
 blingly he said: 
 
 "My sister, wherefore turnest thou the bodies of 
 the dead? 
 
 What hard doom is upon thee, thou Maid of 
 Kosovo, 
 
 That thou liftest up the heroes whose crests are 
 fallen low? 
 
 Seekest thou then for some young man, whose last 
 good day is done? 
 
 For thy father, or thy brother, or thy dear broth- 
 er's son?'* 
 Answered the Maid of Kosovo: 
 
 "0 champion 
 unknown ! 
 
 I seek not father, nor nephew, nor a brother of 
 mine own. 
 
 Knowest thou, O my brother, how the good Tsar 
 Lazar went 
 
 With the squadrons of the army to take the sacra- 
 ment? 
 
 By the fair church in Samodrezha the thirty mass- 
 priests stood 
 
 For three weeks, with the offering of Christ his 
 flesh and blood. 
 
 Thereby there came three captains, that to com- 
 munion passed, 
 
 [100]
 
 Milosh and Ivan Kosanchich, and Milan Toplitsa 
 
 last. 
 
 Milosh, the hero of the earth, through the gate be- 
 fore me strode ; 
 The clanking saber at his side rattled along the 
 
 road; 
 His silver plume flashed on his cap, of silk was his 
 
 raiment fair ; 
 His scarf and his spotted mantle, likewise of silk 
 
 they were. 
 And forth and round about him his eyes went wan- 
 
 deringly, 
 Glancing in pride from side to side, until they fell 
 
 on me. 
 He doffed the spotted mantle ; aloud to me did he 
 
 cry: 
 " 'Take now the spotted mantle, to remember 
 
 me thereby. 
 Lo, I go to perish, dearest, in the leaguer of the 
 
 tsar! 
 Pray for me, now, beloved, that I ride back from 
 
 the war, 
 Returning from the battle with a great victory 
 
 home. 
 Pray now for me, beloved, that the good hap may 
 
 come. 
 To Milan, my brother sworn to me by God and by 
 
 St. John, 
 I will give thee to plight thy troth, when the good 
 
 morn comes on ; 
 To my brother, my sworn comrade, of the living 
 
 and the dead, 
 
 [101]
 
 For I shall be his groomsman whene'er he shall be 
 
 wed.' 
 "After him Ivan, the hero of the earth, before 
 
 me strode ; 
 The clanking saber at his side rattled along the 
 
 road; 
 His silver plume flashed on his cap, of silk was his 
 
 raiment fair; 
 His scarf and his spotted mantle, likewise of silk 
 
 they were. 
 On his hand he wore a golden ring, and his eyes 
 
 went wanderingly, 
 Glancing in pride from side to side, until they fell 
 
 on me. 
 He took the ring from his finger; aloud to me did 
 
 he cry: 
 
 " 'Take, maiden, now the golden ring, to re- 
 member me thereby. 
 Lo, I go to perish, dearest, in the leaguer of the 
 
 tsar! 
 Pray for me now, beloved, that I ride back from 
 
 the war, 
 Returning from the battle with a great victory 
 
 home. 
 Pray now for me, beloved, that the good hap may 
 
 come. 
 To Milan, my brother sworn to me by God and by 
 
 St. John, 
 I will give thee in marriage, when the good morn 
 
 comes on. 
 It is my right in all men's sight before the priest 
 
 to stand, 
 
 [102]
 
 And like a brother give thee for a bride into his 
 
 hand.' 
 "After him Milan, the hero of the earth, before 
 
 me strode ; 
 The clanking saber at his side rattled along the 
 
 road; 
 His silver plume flashed on his cap, of silk was his 
 
 raiment fair; 
 His scarf and his spotted mantle, likewise of silk 
 
 they were. 
 On his shoulders was a golden cloak, and his eyes 
 
 went wanderingly, 
 Glancing in pride from side to side, until they fell 
 
 on me. 
 He took the cloak from his shoulders, and aloud to 
 
 me did he cry: 
 
 " 'Take, maiden, now the golden cloak, to re- 
 member me thereby. 
 Lo, I go to perish, dearest, in the leaguer of the 
 
 tsar! 
 Pray for me now, beloved, that I ride back from 
 
 the war, 
 Returning from the battle with a great victory 
 
 home. 
 Pray now for me, beloved, that the good hap may 
 
 come 
 A fair and lovely fortune in the season when I shall 
 
 ride 
 Hither again from the slaughter and the battle to 
 
 my bride.' 
 "They went out of the city and the altars where 
 
 they kneeled, 
 
 I10S]
 
 And through the broken battle I seek them o'er 
 
 the field." 
 Quoth Pavle to the maiden: 
 
 "Sister, incline 
 
 thine ear! 
 Seest thou yonder, sister, the splendor of that 
 
 spear? 
 To the stirrups of the stallion, the brave blood 
 
 flowed thereby, 
 
 And the horses of the heroes were drenched bridle- 
 high; 
 Stained was the shining armor, their girdles and 
 
 their greaves. 
 They are dead, sister. In their blood dip not thy 
 
 milk-white sleeves, 
 But get thee from the battle to thy home of the 
 
 white hall." 
 And the maid heard, and with a cry upon her 
 
 love did call. 
 She came unto her white-walled home, weeping and 
 
 wild and pale, 
 
 And there she mourned her loss alone, with moan- 
 ing and with wail: 
 "Ah miserable! If I reach forth to touch the 
 
 good green pine, 
 So will the green bough wither in this sad hand of 
 
 mine." 
 
 [104]
 
 WHEN the Turks smote off Tsar Lazar's head in 
 
 Kosovo, the fair, 
 No Serb came forth to find it, but a young Turk 
 
 found it there; 
 He was a Turk that a Servian slave to a Moslem 
 
 master bore. 
 And the young soldier thereupon he spoke his 
 
 friends before: 
 "Brethren, most shameful would it be before God 
 
 who is One, 
 That this lord's head should the eagles tear, and 
 
 the steeds trample thereon, 
 And the legions of the heroes." 
 
 In the skirt of his 
 
 spotted cloak 
 He bore Saint Lazar's head where forth a spring 
 
 of water broke. 
 
 Into the spring of water he lowered the holy head, 
 And there it lay in the cool spring till forty years 
 
 were sped. 
 But the fair body at Kosovo, that was so white and 
 
 wan, 
 The eagles did not tear it, nor the steeds trample 
 
 thereon, 
 Nor the legions of the heroes. 
 
 Now praise to the 
 
 Lord God's might! 
 There were young carters that went forth from the 
 
 town of Skupi the white; 
 To Nissa and to Vidin had they set out to go 
 
 [105]
 
 With Greeks and Bulgars ; and they camped one 
 
 night at Kosovo. 
 
 The carters ate their dinner, and thirsty they be- 
 came; 
 And the candle of their lantern they lighted at the 
 
 flame; 
 Over Kosovo up and down a water-spring they 
 
 sought, 
 And them their fortune at that hour to the spring 
 
 of water brought. 
 One of them spake: "A shining moon behold in 
 
 the water fair!" 
 And the second answered: "Brother, no shining 
 
 moon is there." 
 The third was silent and nothing said, but he 
 
 turned his eyes abroad 
 To the east, and called on Saint Nicholas, and on 
 
 the very God: 
 "O God and Father Nicholas, succor me now !" he 
 
 said, 
 And he stepped into the spring therewith, and 
 
 forth he drew the head 
 Of Lazar the Saint of Servia, and threw it on the 
 
 grass ; 
 Then he drank the water in a cup, for a thirsty 
 
 man he was. 
 Before the thirsty lads had drunk, they looked 
 
 where the head had been 
 On the black earth, but no head at all on the green 
 
 grass was seen. 
 Forth went the sacred head alone, on the way 
 
 across the plain, 
 
 [106]
 
 Till it came to the holy body and was one with it 
 
 again. 
 And when was risen the morning that broke so free 
 
 and fair, 
 To the priests their tidings the carters bore, and 
 
 many priests came there. 
 There were full three hundred ancient priests and 
 
 twelve great bishops more, 
 
 And likewise at that season there came the patri- 
 archs four; 
 
 In Pech 1 the one was ruler, and one of Tsarigrad, 2 
 One in Jerusalem, and the last the earth for his 
 
 province had. 
 And they put on the sacred robes with monks' hats 
 
 for the head, 
 And with them took the holy book, and mighty 
 
 prayers they said. 
 And three days that great vigil and three nights 
 
 did they keep; 
 They sat not down, nor rested, nor laid them down 
 
 to sleep, 
 But aye they prayed Saint Lazar, that he would 
 
 grant them to know 
 What church he loved: Would he rest in 
 
 Krushedol or Opovo, 
 Beshenovo, or Yasak, or perchance he fain would 
 
 lie 
 In Shfshatovats or Rakovats, Kuvezhdin, or Jifsha 
 
 thereby, 
 
 1 Ipek. 
 
 2 The tsar's city, Constantinople. 
 
 107]
 
 Or haply in Macedonia? He will have no church- 
 ing there ; 
 
 He will go to the church that he founded, Rava- 
 nitsa, the fair. 
 
 Under Kuchay he stablished it, the mountain sheer 
 and dread ; 
 
 He built it here among us with his treasure and his 
 bread ; 
 
 And because of it no wretched tears by the father- 
 less were shed. 
 
 [108]
 
 UROSH AND THE SONS OF MARNYAVA 
 
 IN the fair field of Kosovo were four pavilions 
 
 pight 
 By the fair church of Kosovo, Samodrezha the 
 
 white. 
 Vukashin lay in one fair tent, and Lord Uglyesha 
 
 was nigh; 
 Goyko the duke and Urosh, the tsar's son, lay 
 
 thereby. 
 The tsars rob one another of the empire of the 
 
 tsars, 
 And they yearn to slay each other with the gilded 
 
 scimitars. 
 They know not whose is the empire. "It is mine," 
 
 Vukashin saith, 
 But the great Lord tJglyesha answers: "It is 
 
 mine, upon my faith." 
 And Goyko, the proud voyvoda, saith likewise: 
 
 "It is mine"; 
 But the son of the tsar, Prince Urosh, in silence 
 
 must he pine, 
 For he dares not break his silence before those 
 
 angry ones, 
 Before the three great brothers, Marnyava's 
 
 mighty sons. 
 Vukashin writeth a letter, and a herald doth he 
 
 send, 
 
 To Nedelko, the archpriest, in the city of Prizrend ; 
 And he bids him come to Kosovo, that he may there 
 
 decide 
 
 111]
 
 To whom of the four princes the realm belongs, this 
 
 tide; 
 For he had given the sacrament unto the glorious 
 
 tsar, 
 And shriven him ; and the ancient books, with the 
 
 archpriest they are. 
 
 Uglyesha writeth a letter and a herald doth he send 
 To Nedelko, the archpriest, in the city of Prizrend ; 
 And Goyko, the great voj^voda, he writeth yet a 
 
 third, 
 And sendeth a fiery messenger to the archpriest 
 
 with his word; 
 And the son of the tsar, Prince Urosh, sent a letter 
 
 likewise away. 
 In secret the fiery heralds went with their letters 
 
 on that day. 
 
 By the house of the Archpriest Nedelko, in Priz- 
 rend, the white town, 
 The heralds met, but the archpriest out of his house 
 
 was gone, 
 For he sat at the service in the midst of matin 
 
 song. 
 So fierce were those fierce heralds, so keen the 
 
 strong of the strong, 
 That they came not down from the chargers, but 
 
 through the door did dash, 
 And the good Archpriest Nedelko they smote with 
 
 the woven lash: 
 "Come swift, thou priest, to K6sovo, that there 
 
 thou mayst decide 
 To whom of the four princes the realm belongs, this 
 
 tide;
 
 For thou didst give the sacrament unto the glorious 
 tsar, 
 
 And shrovest him, and the ancient books of learn- 
 ing with thee they are. 
 
 If thou comest not to Kosovo, forthwith thou shalt 
 
 lose thy head." 
 Then wept the Archpriest Nedelko, and unto 
 
 them he said: 
 
 "Till we are done with the service, get hence, ye 
 strong of the strong, 
 
 And it will be shown hereafter to whom doth the 
 
 realm belong." 
 
 Out rode the heralds straightway. When the 
 liturgy was done, 
 
 Forth came the Archpriest Nedelko, and spake to 
 
 all and one: 
 
 "With me the tsar took sacrament, to me he did 
 confess ; 
 
 But I asked not of his kingdom, but of his wicked- 
 ness. 
 
 But to the house of Marko in the town of Prilip 
 hie, 
 
 For Marko was my pupil to read in charactery ; 
 
 And the good Marko Kralyevich was a scribe be- 
 fore the tsar, 
 
 And the books of yore with their ancient lore, this 
 day with him they are; 
 
 And who shall have the kingdom, Prince Marko 
 shall make known. 
 
 He speaketh the truth, for he feareth none save 
 the true God alone." 
 
 [113]
 
 To Prilip, to Prince Marko's house, went on the 
 
 heralds four; 
 They came unto the milk-white house, and smote 
 
 with the ring on the door. 
 
 And Yevrosima heard it and called unto her son: 
 "Do thy father's heralds at the door with the ring 
 
 strike thereon?" 
 Marko arose and opened the door. They bowed 
 
 where they did stand: 
 "God bless thee, Marko !" But Marko, he stroked 
 
 them with his hand: 
 "Now welcome, sons ! With the champions and 
 
 the tsars are all things well?" 
 But thereupon the heralds down on their knees 
 
 they fell: 
 "The lords are well, Prince Marko, but they are 
 
 not at peace this night; 
 
 In Kosovo they quarrel, by Samodrezha the white ; 
 The tsars rob one another of the empire of the 
 
 tsars, 
 And they yearn to slay each other with the gilded 
 
 scimitars ; 
 But to whom the realm belongeth, no man of them 
 
 doth know, 
 Wherefore they cite thee to tell them on the field of 
 
 Kosovo." 
 Prince Marko went into the house: 
 
 "My moth- 
 er of delight, 
 
 In Kosovo they quarrel, by Samodrezha the white ; 
 The tsars rob one another of the empire of the 
 
 tsars, 
 
 [114]
 
 And they yearn to slay each other with the gilded 
 
 scimitars ; 
 But to whom the realm belongeth, no man of them 
 
 doth know. 
 Therefore they cite me to tell them on the field of 
 
 Kosovo." 
 
 Though greatly Marko loved the truth, she con- 
 jured him the more: 
 "Let not my rearing be accurst in thee, the son 
 
 I bore, 
 For thy father or his brethren speak not false, 
 
 whate'er the stress, 
 But according to the living God speak out his 
 
 righteousness. 
 Hurt not the spirit, Marko ; save thou the soul, my 
 
 son. 
 Rather lose life than that the soul should have a 
 
 stain thereon." 
 Marko brought forth the ancient books, and 
 
 mounted Dapple the gray ; 
 On Dapple's back he rode the track to Kosovo that 
 
 day. 
 And when he came to the king's tent Vukashin 
 
 stood thereby: 
 "Here is my good son Marko, and fortunate am 
 
 I! 
 For he will say, I trow, this day, the realm of the 
 
 tsars is mine. 
 Then from the father to the son shall the realm 
 
 stand in our line." 
 Marko heard, but said naught ; from the tent he 
 
 turned away. 
 
 I 115 ]
 
 Voyvoda Uglyesha saw him, and aloud his thought 
 
 did he say: 
 "Here is my nephew Marko, and a lucky man 
 
 am I! 
 For I trow he will say to me this day that mine is 
 
 the empery. 
 Say, Marko, that the realm is mine. We will 
 
 share the government." 
 But Marko the Prince said nothing, nor turned 
 
 unto the tent. 
 Goyko, the voyvoda, saw him, what time he went 
 
 thereby : 
 "Here is my nephew Marko, and a lucky man 
 
 am I! 
 He will say that unto me, Goyko, the empire doth 
 
 belong, 
 Because I erstwhile loved him, when he was weak 
 
 and young. 
 
 For I loved him very dearly, and in the bosom fold 
 Of my mantle did I keep him like an apple of red 
 
 gold; 
 Where'er I went upon my steed was Marko wont 
 
 to ride. 
 Say then, Prince Marko, in this wise, what time 
 
 thou shalt decide, 
 
 That all the empire of the tsars is given unto me, 
 And thou shalt be the overlord, and I the tsar at 
 
 thy knee." 
 But Marko aye kept silence, and turned not to 
 
 the tent. 
 To Urosh' white pavilion upon his way he went; 
 
 [116]
 
 Unto the tsar's fair tent he rode. Urosh leaped 
 
 up awake 
 From the fair silken cushions, and to the prince he 
 
 spake : 
 
 "A lucky man am I to-day ; my godfather I see ! 
 Marko the Prince will say to whom the Servian 
 
 realms shall be." 
 Then they embraced each other, and wished each 
 
 other well; 
 
 And sate upon the cushions until the evening fell. 
 When the dark night was over, and the white morn- 
 ing shone, 
 They rang the bells for matins, and to church the 
 
 lords are gone. 
 They came forth from the service before the church 
 
 to dine, 
 And then they ate the sugar, and drank the 
 
 brandy-wine. 
 Marko looks on the ancient books, and a great 
 
 word saith he : 
 "O thou, my sire, Vukashin, is thy realm too 
 
 small for thee? 
 May a curse go out and through it, for ye seize 
 
 another's reign ! 
 
 And Uglyesha, my uncle, too small is thy do- 
 main? 
 May a curse go out and through it, for another's 
 
 realm would ye seize ! 
 And thou, my uncle, Goyko, too strait are thy 
 
 provinces ? 
 May a curse go out and through them, for an 
 
 other's realm would ye steal ! 
 [117]
 
 See and may God forget you! what the book 
 
 doth reveal ! 
 For the realm belongeth to Urosh, from the father 
 
 to the son ; 
 The child is of the tsar his house, and in him the 
 
 line goes on, 
 And the tsar left it to him at the season when he 
 
 died." 
 Vukashin, when he heard it, drew the dagger 
 
 from his side; 
 On his son leaped Vukashin, to stab him in that 
 
 hour, 
 And Marko fled before him, for he had not will nor 
 
 power 
 In arms against his father to lift the hand and 
 
 fight. 
 Marko ran round about the church, Samodrezha 
 
 the white; 
 Three times round white Samodrezha the circle did 
 
 they make; 
 The king well-nigh had caught him, when a voice 
 
 to Marko spake: 
 "Into the church, Prince Marko!" the voice 
 
 from the church did say, 
 "For the sake of truth thou wilt perish at thy 
 
 father's hand this day." 
 Marko ran hard into the church as the doors 
 
 wide open drew ; 
 Vukashin fell against them as again the doors shut 
 
 to, 
 And smote the beam with his dagger. Therefrom 
 
 did the red blood drain. 
 [118]
 
 The king repented: "By the one God, I dread 
 
 my son have I slain." 
 A voice spoke to him from the church: "Dost 
 
 hear where thou dost stand? 
 Thou smot'st not thy son, but an angel, with the 
 
 dagger in thy hand." 
 The king was wroth at Marko, and cursed him 
 
 thereupon : 
 "My son, God slay thee ! Mayst thou have nor 
 
 sepulcher nor son I 
 May the soul go not from thee till thou servest the 
 
 Turk in war!" 
 His father cursed him, but he won the blessing 
 
 of the tsar: 
 "O my godfather Marko, may God thee ever 
 
 shield ! 
 May thy face shine in the council ; thy saber slash 
 
 in the field! 
 May none excel thee in battle, and thy name far 
 
 and wide 
 Be everywhere remembered while the sun and moon 
 
 abide!" 
 
 So spake Vukashin and the tsar, and so did it 
 betide. 
 
 [119]
 
 Two sworn brothers were riding over Miroch, the 
 mountain fair; 
 
 Voyvoda Milosh and Marko were the two heroes 
 there. 
 
 Side by side the steeds did they ride as they bore 
 the spears that day ; 
 
 One kissed the face of the other : such loving broth- 
 ers were they. 
 
 Then Marko on Dapple yearned to sleep ; he spake 
 
 to his brother sworn : 
 
 "Voyvoda Milosh, heavily by sleep am I over- 
 borne. 
 
 Sing to me, brother, and cheer me." 
 
 "Prince 
 Marko, brother mine," 
 
 Said Milosh, "I would sing to thee, but, Marko, I 
 drank the wine 
 
 In the mountain with Raviyoyla, the vila, yester- 
 night. 
 
 She forbade me; if she hears me, my throat and 
 
 heart will she smite." 
 
 Prince Marko spake: "Sing brother, nor ever 
 the vila fear, 
 
 While Dapple and I and the war-club with six gold 
 
 knobs are here." 
 
 Then sang Milosh, the voyvoda, a great and 
 beautiful song 
 
 Of our elders and our betters that held the king- 
 dom long
 
 In famous Macedonia, and the troop that with 
 
 each did go. 
 The song was pleasing to Marko, and he bowed on 
 
 the saddlebow. 
 Prince Marko slept in the saddle, and Milosh sang 
 
 on the track; 
 
 And the vila Ravfyoyla heard him, and sang in an- 
 swer back. 
 
 Milosh sang, and the vila again unto him sang. 
 The better voice had Milosh, and angrily she 
 
 sprang 
 
 Away to the mountain Miroch ; with two white ar- 
 rows she smote 
 Voyvoda Milosh through the heart and likewise in 
 
 the throat. 1 
 Said Milosh: 
 
 "Alas, my mother! And woe unto 
 
 Marko, too! 
 Alas, my brother, the vila has shot me through and 
 
 through ! 
 Did I not tell thee I must not sing on Miroch in 
 
 our course?" 
 Marko started from slumber, and sprang from 
 
 the dappled horse. 
 Well did he stretch the girth-straps for Dapple 
 
 the good gray ; 
 He kissed him, and embraced him, and to the steed 
 
 did he say: 
 
 i "They must have had a singing contest before this, and 
 the vila have forbidden him to sing because his voice was 
 better than hers." (Note by Karajich.)
 
 "Ah, Dapple the steed, of all my strength the 
 
 great right wing art thou ; 
 Ravfyoyla, the vila, do thou overtake her now. 
 I will shoe thee with pure silver and gold of the 
 
 seventh proof; 
 I will cover thee with silk to the knee, with tassels 
 
 thence to the hoof; 
 And all thy mane, moreover, shall be mingled with 
 
 the gold; 
 And I will deck thy trappings with small pearls 
 
 manifold. 
 If thou dost not overtake her, I will put out both 
 
 thine eyes; 
 I will break thy legs, all four of them, and leave 
 
 thee in evil guise; 
 And thou shalt struggle from fir to fir, abandoned 
 
 and forlorn, 
 Even as I, Prince Marko, without my brother 
 
 sworn." 
 Prince Marko on gray Dapple's back forthwith 
 
 himself he threw ; 
 They raced across Mount Miroch. O'er the trees 
 
 the vila flew, 
 And desperately Dapple galloped the midst of the 
 
 forest through. 
 At first nowhere could the vila be seen or heard 
 
 thereby ; 
 But at last, when Dapple saw her, he leaped three 
 
 spear-lengths high 
 And a full four spear-lengths forward. Dapple 
 
 gained on her swift;
 
 In her distress she leaped aloft amid the clouds and 
 
 lift. 
 Up Marko hurled the golden mace, the weapon of 
 
 great worth, 
 And smote her between the shoulders, and beat her 
 
 to the earth. 
 Left and right he did her smite with the golden 
 
 club that day. 
 "Why shottest thou my brother, vila? May 
 
 the good God thee slay ! 
 Give thou herbs for the hero. Ere long thou shalt 
 
 lose thine head." 
 
 The vila besought him in God's name. Implor- 
 ingly she said: 
 "Prince Marko, my sworn brother, God and St. 
 
 John before, 
 Release me alive in the forest, to search Mount 
 
 Miroch o'er 
 For herbs to heal the hero, and his fierce wounds 
 
 abate." 
 Marko harkened her prayer, for his heart was 
 
 compassionate ; 
 
 Alive into the forest he let the vila go. 
 She gathered herbs on Miroch, as she wandered to 
 
 and fro, 
 And she called often: "My brother, I am coming 
 
 from the field." 
 The vila gathered many an herb, and the hero's 
 
 wounds she healed; 
 And the lordly throat of Milosh was better than 
 
 before, 
 
 [123]
 
 And the strong heart of the hero was stronger than 
 
 of yore. 
 The vila went unto Miroch. With his sworn 
 
 brother good, 
 Went Marko to Porech country, and forded Timok 
 
 flood, 
 Till he came to the great town Bregovo and the 
 
 Vidin country-side. 
 
 But Raviyoyla, the vila, to the other vilas cried: 
 "Hear ye, my friends, the vilas, and harken, 
 
 and give ear: 
 Shoot no hero on the mountain when Marko the 
 
 Prince is near, 
 Or while Dapple and he and the war-club with six 
 
 gold knobs are here. 
 What I have suffered at his hands, I have not 
 
 strength to say, 
 And hardly out of them at last alive I got away."
 
 PRINCE MARKO AND THE SWORD OF 
 VUKASHIN 
 
 THE sultan with an army is come to Kosovo; 
 An hundred thousand men had he where Sitnitsa 
 
 doth flow. 
 
 With a saber of Damascus his herald goeth forth, 
 And full three hundred ducats the naked blade is 
 
 worth; 
 And likewise was the scabbard worth ducats fifteen 
 
 score, 
 And the cost of the cord of the scabbard three 
 
 hundred ducats more. 
 
 No one was found for money to buy that scimitar, 
 But chance brought the Prince Marko on the 
 
 herald of the tsar. 
 Said Marko : "The Damascus blade, thou herald, 
 
 show to me." 
 The herald heard and gave over the blade, but not 
 
 a word said he. 
 Marko said to the herald, as he looked on the 
 
 saber cold: 
 "Forty-five score of ducats will I give thee of 
 
 yellow gold ; 
 But harken, herald, let us go to some safe place 
 
 hereabout, 
 That I may count before thee the yellow ducats 
 
 out; 
 For I would not ungird me of the three gold belts 
 
 this tide, 
 Since I am much in the Turkish debt in the camp 
 
 on every side, 
 
 [125]
 
 And I deem that for the saber they will not let me 
 
 pay." 
 The Turk would hardly await him, and hastened 
 
 on the way, 
 And along the water of Sitnitsa they speedily are 
 
 gone. 
 Prince Marko there ungirded him 'neath the white 
 
 bridge of stone; 
 He spread a mantle of the green, he took the belts 
 
 of gold, 
 And out he shook the golden belts while the Turk 
 
 the ducats told. 
 
 Marko looked on the saber, and saw thereon dis- 
 played 
 Three Christian words engraven upon the shining 
 
 blade ; 
 And first "The Saint Demetrius," and next "The 
 
 Archangel" came, 
 And last of all upon the blade stood King Vuka- 
 
 shin's name. 
 Marko saw and forthwith spake : 
 
 "O herald of the 
 
 tsar, 
 By the one God I adjure thee; whence came the 
 
 scimitar? 
 Was it left by thy father? Did thy wife bring 
 
 it to thee? 
 Or was it won in battle, perchance, from an 
 
 enemy ?" 
 The Turk spake unto Marko: 
 
 "By God, thou 
 
 chief unknown, 
 
 [ 126 ]
 
 Unto thee now the inward of this matter will I 
 
 own. 
 It was not left by my father, my wife brought it 
 
 not to me ; 
 
 But, chief unknown, I won it from a single enemy. 
 When with the Servian empire fell both tsars at 
 
 Kosovo, 
 Murad and Lazar, then I won the saber from the 
 
 foe. 
 
 Early to water my fat steed to Sitnitsa I went, 
 And there my fortune brought me to a green silken 
 
 tent. 
 Within was a wounded warrior most fierce God 
 
 strike him dead ! 
 The black beard of his lip that tide over his breast 
 
 it spread. 
 He wore a great green mantle, and by him lay the 
 
 sword. 
 When the wounded one beheld me, by God he me 
 
 implored : 
 " 'Brother, thou champion unknown, now smite 
 
 not off mine head ; 
 Soon will my soul go from me, for my wounds are 
 
 deep and dread. 
 Wait half an hour ; by Sitnitsa there shalt thou set 
 
 my grave. 
 Three belts of gold are on me, and a Damascus 
 
 glaive 
 That is worth a thousand ducats, and here is my 
 
 silken tent.' 
 "But I would not harken his prayer, and out 
 
 with him I went, 
 
 [127]
 
 Dragging the wounded hero. My saber then I 
 
 drew, 
 And cut off his head; his leg I grasped, and his 
 
 arm, and straightway threw 
 The hero into Sitnitsa, where swiftly the waters 
 
 run. 
 There with the marvelous booty this saber for thee 
 
 I won." 
 When the Prince Marko heard it, to the herald 
 
 did he say: 
 "O herald of the Turkish tsar, may God reward 
 
 thee this day ! 
 That was my own dear father, even Vukashin, the 
 
 king. 
 Hadst thou waited his soul's departure, it had been 
 
 a better thing, 
 And thou, O Turkish herald, wouldst have had a 
 
 better grave." 
 He drew, and cut the Turk's head off with the 
 
 Damascus glaive. 
 He grasped the milk-white hand and leg, and in 
 
 Sitnitsa he threw 
 The herald of the tsar and said: "Go thou my 
 
 father unto!" 
 To the army Marko wended with the gold and the 
 
 scimitar ; 
 
 Said the janissaries: "Prithee, where is the her- 
 ald of the tsar?" 
 
 But to them said Marko: "I pray you, janis- 
 saries, begone! 
 He took his ducats and pennies to the sea to trade 
 
 thereon." 
 
 [1*6]
 
 Said the Turks one to the other: "Hard must the 
 
 Moslem strive, 
 Who cometh to Prince Marko a bargain with him 
 
 to drive !" 
 
 [129]
 
 MARKO lay on the tsar's highway, and green was 
 
 all his gear, 
 A silver cloth was on his face; by his head was 
 
 planted his spear. 
 By the spear stood Dapple, but on it a great white 
 
 eagle stayed; 
 It spread its wings above the prince and gave the 
 
 hero shade, 
 And water in its beak it bore, the wounded hero 
 
 to slake. 
 
 But a vila of the mountain unto the eagle spake: 
 "In the name of God, white eagle, how hath 
 
 Marko stood thine aid, 
 That thou spreadest thy wings above him to give 
 
 the hero shade, 
 And bringest water in thy beak, the wounded hero 
 
 to slake?" 
 
 But thereupon the eagle unto the vila spake: 
 "Be silent, vila, and hold thy tongue. What 
 
 good hath come to me, 
 Hath aye come at Prince Marko's hands. Keep- 
 
 est thou the memory 
 Of the day the army perished on the field of 
 
 Kosovo, 
 And both tsars, Lazar and Murad, died in the 
 
 overthrow ? 
 Up to the stirrups of the steed that day the red 
 
 blood ran, 
 Unto the silken girdle of many a fighting man; 
 
 130]
 
 Horses and heroes swam, steed by steed, and hero 
 
 hero by, 
 And we flew up hungry and thirsty, the vultures 
 
 of the sky; 
 We fed on human flesh, we drank our fill of human 
 
 blood : 
 My wings were wet. Forth flamed the sun in 
 
 heaven where he stood: 
 My wings grew stiff ; my feathers in flight I could 
 
 not wield; 
 My comrades flew, and I was left upon the level 
 
 field. 
 Heroes and steeds rushed onward, and me they 
 
 trampled o'er. 
 God sent Marko ; he lifted me up from the heroes' 
 
 gore 
 And put me behind on Dapple. To the green 
 
 wood amain 
 He bore me and tossed me into a fir; and down the 
 
 gentle rain 
 Descended there upon me. My wings were washen 
 
 clean, 
 
 That I might fly thereafter over the forest green; 
 And there I met my comrades. 
 
 "One more good deed to me 
 Did the good Marko Kralyevich. Hast thou in 
 
 memory 
 How the town burned at Kosovo? Burnt was 
 
 Ajaga's tower: 
 
 Therein my little eaglets were hidden in that hour, 
 And Marko gathered all of them in his silken 
 
 bosom fold,
 
 And a full month he nourished them in the white 
 
 house of his hold, 
 And let them go to the green wood, when a month 
 
 and a week were told. 
 And this did Marko for me, that I met my eaglets 
 
 dear." 
 
 Prince Marko is remembered like a fair day in 
 the year. 
 
 [132]
 
 PRINCE MARKO with his mother one evening sate 
 
 alone. 
 Said his mother: 
 
 "Marko, my little son, old is 
 
 thy mother grown; 
 No more can she prepare for thee the meal whereon 
 
 to dine; 
 She cannot light a torch for thee or serve the 
 
 ruddy wine. 
 Marry, my son, a woman forthwith to take my 
 
 place." 
 
 Marko unto his mother shortly he spake apace: 
 "In God's name, my ancient mother, I have been 
 
 nine realms around, 
 And a tenth, the Turkish empire. When a girl 
 
 to my taste I found, 
 She would not have been to thy liking; when I 
 
 found a friend for thee, 
 Then she was not to my liking, nor desirable to 
 
 me. 
 
 Except for one, my mother, in the Bulgarian land ; 
 I saw her in Shishmanin's palace; by a cistern did 
 
 she stand. 
 When I looked on her, my mother, the grass swam 
 
 under me ; 
 There is the maid for me, mother, and a dear friend 
 
 for thee. 
 Get me food for the journey; I will ask for the 
 
 maiden's hand." 
 
 [133]
 
 She waited not, nor abided till the dawn shone 
 
 in the land, 
 But she baked him bread with sugar. When the 
 
 dawn broke clear and fine, 
 Marko girded himself and the steed and filled a 
 
 skin of wine; 
 He hung it on Dapple's saddle, and his mace on 
 
 the other hand ; 
 On Dapple he went to Shishmanin's house in the 
 
 Bulgarian land. 
 
 Afar the king perceived him. Marko he came be- 
 fore; 
 They embraced and kissed each other, and asked 
 
 how they them bore. 
 The servant to the cellars went with the faithful 
 
 steed, 
 But the king, the good Prince Marko to his white 
 
 house did lead. 
 They sat down at the ready board the dark-red 
 
 wine to drain; 
 When they had drunk their fill thereof Marko 
 
 leaped up again. 
 He doffed his cap, he bowed to the earth, and he 
 
 asked for the maid of the king. 
 The king said naught, but gave her ; on the ground 
 
 he laid a ring, 
 And an apple thereby; moreover for the girl he 
 
 let cut a shift. 
 To her sisters and kinswomen Marko gave many a 
 
 gift, 
 He gave three packs of treasure ; and there a month 
 
 he spent,
 
 Ere to gather gay-clad wooers to Prilip the white 
 
 he went. 
 
 The maid's mother bespoke him: "My son-in- 
 law," she cried, 
 "My Marko, let no stranger be the bringer of the 
 
 bride, 
 But rather thine own brother or some nephew of 
 
 thy name, 
 For the maid is passing lovely and we fear some 
 
 open shame." 
 There bode Prince Marko of Prilip the remnant 
 
 of the night; 
 At dawn he saddled Dapple and rode to Prilip the 
 
 white. 
 Near the town his mother saw him, and drew near 
 
 a little space, 
 And in her arms she took him and kissed him on 
 
 the face. 
 And his mother asked Prince Marko, as he kissed 
 
 her milk-white hand: 
 "My son, Prince Marko, art thou come in peace 
 
 across the land? 
 And hast thou as yet discovered a daughter dear 
 
 for me, 
 A maid to be my daughter and a true wife to 
 
 thee?" 
 Marko answered: 
 
 "My mother, I am come in 
 
 peace through the land; 
 I have asked and won in marriage a maiden to my 
 
 hand. 
 
 [135]
 
 When I set out for my white house, then the maid's 
 
 mother cried: 
 
 " 'My Marko, let no stranger be the bringer of 
 the bride, 
 
 But rather thine own brother or some nephew of 
 thy name, 
 
 For the maid is passing lovely and we fear some 
 
 open shame.' 
 "But, mother, I have not a brother, no nephew 
 
 at all have I." 
 His mother spake: 
 
 "Son Marko, be troubled 
 not thereby. 
 
 A letter in fine characters, my son, thou shalt in- 
 dite 
 
 Unto the Doge of Venice, and bid him come forth- 
 right 
 
 To be groomsman at thy wedding, with five hun- 
 dred wooers beside. 
 
 Thou shalt write to Stevan Zemlyich to be bringer 
 of the bride, 
 
 With five hundred wooers likewise. No shame at 
 
 all shalt thou fear." 
 
 When Marko understood her speech, he hark- 
 ened his mother dear. 
 
 He wrote the letters on his knee, and one to the 
 doge is borne, 
 
 And one to Stevan Zemlyich, that is his brother 
 sworn. 
 
 Time passed; the Doge of Venice came, and five 
 hundred wooers beside ; 
 
 [136]
 
 He went to the slender tower, but they to the lea- 
 land wide. 
 In a little while came Stevan and five hundred 
 
 wooers fine. 
 They gathered at the slender tower and drank their 
 
 fill of the wine. 
 Then they went to the court of Shishmanin in the 
 
 Bulgarian land, 
 And King Shishmanin received them, and open was 
 
 his hand 
 To the heroes in the houses and the horses in the 
 
 stall, 
 And three white days he kept them, and they rested 
 
 one and all. 
 When out broke the fourth morning, spake the 
 
 heralds in this wise: 
 "What ho, ye gay-clad wooers, it is time that 
 
 ye arise ! 
 Short are the days, and the delays at nightfall long 
 
 are they; 
 Ye should take thought, ye wooers, to wend the 
 
 homeward way." 
 King Shishmanin brought gracious gifts. Fair 
 
 hose he gave to one, 
 To another he gave a gallant cloth with embroidery 
 
 thereon ; 
 
 He gave unto the groomsman a table of gold well- 
 tried, 
 And he gave a golden garment to the bringer of 
 
 the bride, 
 And a great war-steed furthermore, and charged 
 
 him with the maid; 
 [137]
 
 And to the bringer of the bride the king moreover 
 
 said: 
 "Here is the steed and the maid likewise to take 
 
 to Marko's place: 
 Give him the maid; the steed is thine, a gift of 
 
 honor and grace." 
 Forth marched the gay-clad wooers through the 
 
 Bulgarian land. 
 Where comes good fortune, also ill fortune is at 
 
 hand; 
 For on that tide both far and wide the wind blew in 
 
 the field, 
 The wind stirred lightly the maiden's veil and the 
 
 maiden's face was revealed. 
 The Doge of Venice saw her. His head for grief 
 
 ached sore. 
 He scarce could wait till evening the land had 
 
 fallen o'er. 
 When they came to the night encampment, the 
 
 Doge of Venice sped 
 To the tent of Stevan Zemlyich, and soft to him 
 
 he said: 
 "O Stevan, the bringer of the bride, give me thy 
 
 sister dear 
 One night for my love, and thou shalt have this 
 
 bootful of treasure here. 
 Lo, Stevan, the yellow ducats!" 
 
 But Stevan to 
 
 him did cry: 
 "Be silent, doge, mayst thou change to stone ! Has 
 
 it entered thy mind to die?" 
 
 [138]
 
 The Doge of Venice turned him back. At the 
 
 second camp he went 
 And spoke to Stevan Zemlyich in the midst of the 
 
 white tent: 
 "I prithee, Stevan Zemlyich, give me thy sister 
 
 dear 
 One night for my love. Thou shalt have therefor 
 
 two bootsfull of treasure here. 
 Lo, Stevan, the yellow ducats 1" 
 
 Said Stevan 
 thereupon : 
 "Go, doge! Mayst thou perish straightway! 
 
 Shall my sister be undone?" 
 To his tent went the doge. When the third 
 
 camp was pitched at eventide, 
 The doge went unto Stevan, the bringer of the 
 
 bride: 
 "O thou, the bringer of the bride, give me thy 
 
 sister dear 
 One night for my love. Thou shalt have therefor 
 
 three bootsfull of ducats here." 
 Thereupon Stevan Zemlyich was finally cajoled 
 To give the doge his sister for three bootsfull of 
 
 yellow gold. 
 Stevan took up the ducats and the doge led the 
 
 maid 
 By the white hand within his tent and softly to her 
 
 said: 
 "Sit down, sweet bride, that thou and I may fondle 
 
 each other now." 
 But answered the Bulgarian bride: 
 
 [139]
 
 "A shame- 
 ful groomsman art thou ! 
 
 Doge of Venice, beneath us the earth will open 
 
 wide, 
 The heaven will crack above us ! What man shall 
 
 fondle a bride?" 
 The Doge of Venice answered: 
 
 "Speak not like 
 a fool confessed! 
 
 1 have already, dearest, nine christened brides ca- 
 
 ressed, 
 And of wives four and twenty. The earth it gaped 
 
 not wide, 
 Nor did the heaven crack o'er us. Sit down, let 
 
 me fondle thee, bride !" 
 But the bride said: 
 
 "Doge of Venice, my 
 
 groomsman, harken this. 
 My mother dear adjured me no bearded man to 
 
 kiss, 
 But a young and beardless hero, such as Prince 
 
 Marko is." 
 When the Doge of Venice heard it, he called 
 
 swift barbers there; 
 One bathed him, and the second he shaved him 
 
 clean and fair. 
 And the lovely bride bowed over in the place where 
 
 she stood, 
 And picked up the beard and wrapped it in a piece 
 
 of linen good. 
 Thereafter the Doge of Venice the barbers drove 
 
 outside, 
 
 [140]
 
 And said unto her softly: "Now sit thee down, 
 
 sweet bride!" 
 Then answered the Bulgarian girl : 
 
 "When Marko 
 
 of this shall hear, 
 Three heads, O Doge, my groomsman, from our 
 
 bodies he will shear." 
 The doge said unto the sweet bride: 
 
 "Speak 
 
 not so foolishly ! 
 There in the midst of the wooers is Marko plain 
 
 to see, 
 
 Where his fair white pavilion he did himself un- 
 fold. 
 Upon the summit of the tent is an apple of red 
 
 gold, 
 With gems so bright that by their light are half 
 
 the wooers seen clear. 
 But at my side sit down, O bride, that we may 
 
 fondle here." 
 The bride said: 
 
 "Wait in the tent a space, 
 
 thou dearest groomsman of mine, 
 Till I look on the sky above the clouds, if it be 
 
 foul or fine." 
 When she had come without the tent, she fled 
 
 to Marko in fear; 
 The girl sprang through the wooers like a fawn 
 
 of a single year, 
 To the tent of the Prince Marko, that down to 
 
 sleep had lain;
 
 And the girl stood before him, and her tears ran 
 
 down like rain. 
 Then Marko leaped to his feet and spake to the 
 
 Bulgarian bride: 
 "What a wretch, Bulgarian, art thou ! Couldst 
 
 thou not e'en abide 
 Till we came to my white dwelling, and in Christian 
 
 guise were wed?" 
 He seized the saber silver-wrought, but the bride 
 
 bowed down and said : 
 "Marko, mine is no wretch's line, but a house of 
 
 power and pride! 
 The wretches are thine, thy groomsman and the 
 
 bringer of the bride I 
 Thine own bride Stevan Zemlyich to the Doge of 
 
 Venice sold 
 For three bootsfull of treasure, ducats of yellow 
 
 gold. 
 Prince Marko haply will not believe if thou be- 
 
 lievest not me, 
 The beard of the Doge of Venice, I have brought 
 
 it unto thee." 
 And thereupon she opened the cloth that held 
 
 it wide. 
 When the Prince Marko saw it, he spoke unto the 
 
 bride : 
 "Sit down, fair bride ; on the morrow I will look the 
 
 matter o'er." 
 Then Marko laid him down again to slumber there 
 
 once more. 
 
 [142]
 
 But when on the morrow morning the mighty sun 
 outbroke, 
 
 Marko leaped nimbly to his feet, and fastened back 
 his cloak ; 
 
 In his hand he took the heavy mace, and then away 
 he hied, 
 
 To bid the groomsman good morrow, and the 
 
 bringer of the bride. 
 
 "Good morrow, bringer of the bride, and grooms- 
 man mine," said he; 
 
 "Bringer of the bride and groomsman, say, where 
 
 now the bride may be." 
 
 Still was the bringer of the bride, no answer 
 would he make ; 
 
 But unto the Prince Marko the Doge of Venice 
 
 spake : 
 
 "How now, friend Marko the bridegroom, of 
 such strange whims men are, 
 
 That hardly a man may make a jest without be- 
 getting a war !" 
 
 "Evil is the jest of thine, O doge!" thereto did 
 Marko say, 
 
 "No jest is a shaven beard! Where now is thy 
 
 beard of yesterday?" 
 
 Yet more to him in answer had the Doge of Ven- 
 ice said; 
 
 Marko swung the great saber, and cut off the 
 doge's head. 
 
 Forthwith fled Stevan Zemlyich, but Marko ran 
 amain, 
 
 And smote him with the saber, and cut him right 
 in twain. 
 
 [143]
 
 In the tent himself he girded, and saddled Dapple 
 
 aright ; 
 Forth went the gay-clad wooers, and came to 
 
 Prilip the white. 
 
 [144]
 
 PRINCE MARKO AND ALIL AGA 
 
 THERE once were two sworn brothers; through 
 
 Tsarigrad l rode they : 
 The one is the Prince Marko, the other Kostadin 
 
 the Bey. 
 Said Marko: 
 
 "Bey Kostadin, sworn brother of 
 
 mine own, 
 Now that I ride in Tsarigrad some woe may strike 
 
 me down. 
 
 Mayhap they will summon me to the lists; a sick- 
 ness will I feign, 
 Heartache, the evil illness, that is so fierce a 
 
 pain." 
 So Marko feigned a sickness, though none he 
 
 had indeed; 
 Of his grievous cunning he bowed him on the back 
 
 of Dapple the steed; 
 He leaned his breast on the saddlebow, through 
 
 Tsarigrad he rode. 
 Good meeting befell him. Before him one Alii Aga 
 
 strode, 
 The tsar his man, and thirty were his janissaries 
 
 there. 
 Said Alii Aga to Marko : 
 
 "To the lists now let us 
 
 fare, 
 Thou hero good, Prince Marko ; with the shafts let 
 
 us make play. 
 
 i The t tar's city, Constantinople. 
 [14.5]
 
 And if God and good luck serve thee, and thou 
 
 shootest beyond me this day, 
 Be there given thee my white houses, that heritage 
 
 of mine, 
 And the Turkish matron, my faithful wife. But 
 
 if my shot pass thine, 
 To thy houses and thy faithful wife faith I will 
 
 pay no heed ; 
 I only hope to hang thee high and seize on Dapple 
 
 the steed." 
 Said Marko: 
 
 "Let be, thou Turk accurst, how 
 
 shall I shoot with thee, 
 
 When such a bitter sickness has taken hold of me, 
 Heartache, the evil illness, that is so fierce a pain? 
 I cannot hold myself on the steed: how shall we 
 
 shoot amain?" 
 But the Turk, Alii Aga, he will not let him 
 
 alone. 
 The right skirt of Marko's tunic, he set his hand 
 
 thereon ; 
 Marko drew from his belt the knife and cut the 
 
 skirt away: 
 "Go to, wretch, Alii Aga! May a plague strike 
 
 thee this day !" 
 
 But the Turk Alii Aga he will not let him alone. 
 The left skirt of Marko's tunic, he set his hand 
 
 thereon ; 
 Marko drew the knife from his belt and cut the 
 
 skirt away: 
 "Go to, wretch, Alii Aga! May God in heaven 
 
 thee slay !" 
 
 [146]
 
 But the aga will not let him be. With his right 
 
 hand Dapple's rein 
 He seized ; his left hand thrust therewith in Marko's 
 
 bosom amain. 
 Marko flashed like the living fire ; straight he rose 
 
 on the steed; 
 He grasped the reins, and Dapple pranced as he 
 
 were mad indeed. 
 Hero and horse ran the wild course. He called 
 
 Kostadin Bey: 
 "To the cloth market, Kostadin, my brother, 
 
 take thy way; 
 
 Bring thence a Tatar arrow with nine hawk- 
 feathers white. 
 I will go forth with the aga, that the cadi may 
 
 judge aright, 
 And no matter arise hereafter, sufficient cause for 
 
 a fight." 
 The bey went to the cloth market ; with the aga 
 
 Marko hied 
 To the cadi. The aga his slippers doffed and sat 
 
 at the cadi's side ; 
 And out he took twelve ducats that he laid on the 
 
 cadi's knee: 
 "Set no just terms for Marko ; and here are ducats 
 
 for thee!" 
 But Marko knew the Turkish tongue. No coin 
 
 had he in the place; 
 Forthwith before his bosom Prince Marko held his 
 
 mace: 
 "Dost thou hear me, master cadi; set thou just 
 
 terms for me ! 
 
 [147]
 
 Since my club with the six spikes of gold thou 
 
 easily mayst see. 
 If I strike thee with the war club, thou wilt need 
 
 no plaster therefor ; 
 Thou wilt forget the courtroom, nor want the 
 
 ducats more." 
 
 Fever fell on the master, the cadi, to behold 
 The great war club before him, with the six spikes 
 
 of gold. 
 He straightway wrote the terms for them, but his 
 
 hands shook for dread. 
 Then out to the single combat at once the heroes 
 
 sped; 
 
 And thirty janissaries with Alii Aga strode, 
 But none but Greeks and Bulgars on Marko's part 
 
 abode. 
 When they came to the lists spoke Alii, the aga of 
 
 the tsar: 
 "Shoot, captain, thyself that vauntest for a 
 
 great man of war, 
 
 With thy brag in the tsar's council that thy shoot- 
 ing is so strong 
 Thou canst hit an eagle of the cross, 1 that leads 
 
 the clouds along." 
 Said Marko: 
 
 "I am a hero good, but older than 
 
 I art thou ; 
 For, hero, thine is the lordship, and thine is the 
 
 empire now; 
 
 i"Aquila imperialis, which has a sort of cross on its 
 back." Budmani, Croatian (Servian) Dictionary. 
 
 [148]
 
 Thine is the right of the elder, and since thou hast 
 
 summoned me, 
 
 Shoot now, Turk, in the order of thy seniority." 
 
 Thereupon Alii Aga his first white arrow shot; 
 
 An hundred yards and twenty was it measured 
 
 from the spot. 
 Marko his first white arrow two hundred yards he 
 
 drave ; 
 The Turk a full three hundred hath sent his second 
 
 stave. 
 Prince Marko the second arrow five hundred yards 
 
 he sent, 
 
 But the Turk's third white arrow a full six hun- 
 dred went. 
 
 Meanwhile the Bey Kostadin by Marko did alight, 
 And bore the Tatar arrow with nine hawk-feathers 
 
 white. 
 Marko unloosed the Tatar shaft ; through the dust 
 
 and mist it blazed, 
 And forthwith vanished from them, however hard 
 
 they gazed ; 
 Nor could it e'er be measured. Hot tears the aga 
 
 shed; 
 With Marko, calling on God's name, in his despair 
 
 he pled: 
 "Marko, who art my brother sworn, in the name 
 
 of God and St. John, 
 By thy good law ; my house is thine, for thee to 
 
 seize thereon, 
 And the Turkish matron, my true wife, is thine to 
 
 lead away: 
 
 Only I prithee, brother, hang me not up this day !" 
 [149]
 
 But Marko spake : 
 
 "May God on high forth- 
 with destroy thy life ! 
 If thou callest me brother, wherefore dost thou 
 
 offer me thy wife? 
 Thy wife is not needful to me. We are not as the 
 
 Turks in this ; 
 With us the wife of a brother even as a sister is. 1 
 
 i "An old Servian custom still surviving in many districts 
 is the adoption by two men or boys of each other as 'brother,' 
 or by girls as 'sister,' or sometimes by two of different sex 
 as brother and sister. The brother, in that case, would be 
 a relative of the girl, too near in blood, according to Servian 
 usage, to marry or admit of any but fraternal affections 
 between the two. It would be sacrilege and illegal for them 
 to marry. This system is and was the literal application 
 of the Christian principle of 'brotherhood,' developed into 
 an institution during the bitterest times of oppression by a 
 foreign foe. Two young men going into battle bound them- 
 selves as brothers in ties of close fealty which endured 
 through all trials. The oath of fidelity for life was sworn 
 before the altar in the church and consecrated by the priest, 
 and often sealed by the exchange of a drop of blood drunk 
 in a cup of red wine. If one died the surviving one was, 
 in all respects, like a true brother to the family of his dead 
 'pobratim.' This tie is considered most sacred by Servians 
 and cannot be broken, no matter how severely it may be 
 tried by any circumstances that may arise. It is recognized 
 by a law conferring right of inheritance as well as family 
 obligations. Milosh Obrenovich, of the war of Servian 
 liberation, was the pobratim of the Turkish commander Ali 
 Aga Sertchesma, a Mohammedan Servian, who was after- 
 ward opposed to him in battle. When the aga's army was 
 vanquished, Milosh was a brother to him and protected his 
 personal life, liberty, and property, as he in similar circum- 
 stances protected Milosh's life." Lazarovich-Hrebelianovich, 
 The Servian People (New York, 1910), vol. 1, pp. 73, 74. 
 
 Just above, Alii Aga has addressed Marko as "sworn 
 brother," as a compliment or appeal. 
 
 150]
 
 I have a faithful wife at home, even Yelitsa nobly 
 
 born. 
 And I would forgive thee all, brother, but my tunic 
 
 hast thou torn; 
 Give me three loads of money to patch my skirts 
 
 apace !" 
 Merrily then the Turk leaped up and kissed 
 
 Prince Marko's face. 
 Marko for three white days he kept within the 
 
 lordly hall, 
 And gave him three loads of money ; and his lady 
 
 therewithal 
 Gave to the prince a mighty shirt sewn with a 
 
 thread of gold, 
 And also a silver towel. Three hundred horsemen 
 
 bold 
 The aga gave him for escort, when he rode to his 
 
 house afar. 
 Long they abode thereafter, and held the land for 
 
 the tsar: 
 When the foe invaded, Marko and Alii beat them 
 
 back; 
 Wherever fortresses were ta'en, they marshaled the 
 
 attack. 
 
 [151]
 
 PRINCE MARKO AND MINA OF KOSTUR 
 
 PRINCE MARKO and his mother had sat them down 
 
 to dine; 
 On the dry bread they feasted, and they drank the 
 
 yellow wine. 
 And unto the Prince Marko came letters three that 
 
 day: 
 One was from Bajazet the tsar, in white Stamboul 
 
 that lay; 
 One from the town of Budim, from the king thereof 
 
 had come; 
 And one from Yanko the voyvoda, in Sibin that 
 
 had his home. 
 The letter from Stamboul city, that was written 
 
 of the tsar, 
 To the army summons Marko for the keen Moorish 
 
 war. 
 In the letter out of Budim, the second of the 
 
 three, 
 
 The king with the wooers bids him that the grooms- 
 man he may be, 
 That the king may lightly marry the queen of 
 
 whom he is fain. 
 The letter from Sibin the city, it beareth a message 
 
 plain, 
 That as godfather he shall christen the children 
 
 of Yanko twain. 
 Marko speaks to his mother : 
 
 "My mother, old art thou ; 
 Council me, mother, shall I go to the tsar's army 
 
 now?
 
 Shall I go among the wooers, to marry the king 
 
 amain ? 
 Or unto Yanko of Sibin, to christen his children 
 
 twain ?" 
 His mother speaketh to Marko: "My little 
 
 son," saith she, 
 
 "A man goes unto the wooers because of jollity; 
 As a godfather a man goes forth because of the 
 
 law of God ; 
 But a man goes to the army because of the fear of 
 
 the rod. 
 Go, my son, to the army, for God will hold his 
 
 hand; 
 But the Turks, an thou come not thither, they will 
 
 not understand." 
 Marko obeyed his mother. To the host he 
 
 marched away; 
 He took Goluban the servant ; to his mother did he 
 
 say: 
 "Hear, mother! Of my fortress do thou early 
 
 shut the gate, 
 And when ariseth the morning, do thou throw it 
 
 open late; 
 Since with Mina accurst of Kostur at odds am I, 
 
 and I fear, 
 
 Mother, that my white houses the rogue will plun- 
 der here." 
 Marko to the tsar's army with Goluban the 
 
 servant went. 
 On the third evening of the march, when they had 
 
 pitched the tent, 
 
 [153]
 
 Marko supped, and Goluban served out the yellow 
 
 wine. 
 Marko took up the goblet, and slumber fell on his 
 
 eyne; 
 He dropped the cup on the table, but the wine 
 
 spilled not on the board. 
 Goluban the servant waketh him ; "Prince Marko," 
 
 he saith, "my lord, 
 Ere this hast thou gone to the army, but thou hast 
 
 not slumbered so deep, 
 Nor dropped the cup from thy fingers." 
 
 But 
 
 Marko started from sleep, 
 And said: 
 
 "Goluban, my servant, thou art faith- 
 ful, as I deem. 
 I closed mine eyes for a little, and I dreamed a 
 
 wondrous dream. 
 Exceeding strange was the dream, and exceeding 
 
 strange the hour. 
 A tuft of mist blew outward from Kostur the white 
 
 tower : 
 The mist enveloped Prilip ; in the white mist Mina 
 
 came. 
 He will plunder my white houses and burn them 
 
 with the flame ; 
 Over my mother's body will he trample with the 
 
 steed ; 
 My faithful bride upon that tide a captive will 
 
 he lead; 
 My horses from the stables, he will drive them all 
 
 away; 
 
 [ 154 ]
 
 The money in my treasury he will carry off that 
 
 day." 
 To Marko said Goluban: "Fear not, Prince 
 
 Marko. In sooth, 
 Good heroes ever dreamed good dreams. Dreams 
 
 lie, but God is truth." 
 When they were come to Tsarigrad, 1 the tsar 
 
 sent forth his host, 
 Over the blue sea went they forth to the fierce 
 
 Moorish coast; 
 
 And four and forty cities have they ta'en over sea. 
 They came under Kara Okan, and years they 
 
 fought there three ; 
 Okan they smote, and never could they storm it in 
 
 the war. 
 Marko smote down the Moorish chiefs and bore 
 
 their heads to the tsar. 
 The tsar gave bakshish to Marko, and wroth the 
 
 Turks did it make ; 
 And they came in anger to the tsar, and unto him 
 
 they spake: 
 
 "Tsar Bajazet, this Marko, no hero at all is he; 
 He cleaveth and bringeth for bakshish the heads of 
 
 the slain to thee." 
 Marko heard it, and forthwith to the great tsar 
 
 did he pray: 
 
 "My father by adoption, to-morrow is the day 
 Of St. George, my own good patron, and let me, 
 
 tsar, withdraw 
 To hold my patron's festival by custom and by 
 
 law; 
 
 i The tsar's city, Constantinople. 
 [155]
 
 And Alii Aga, my brother sworn, likewise do thou 
 
 release, 
 That he and I together may drink the wine in 
 
 peace." 
 The tsar sent forth Prince Marko, for naught 
 
 else could he do, 
 To hold his patron's festival, and released his 
 
 brother too. 
 And into the green forest forthwith Prince Marko 
 
 sped, 
 Nor far from the tsar's army his white pavilion 
 
 spread ; 
 
 To tipple on dark liquor he sat him on the grass, 
 And with him Alii Aga, his brother sworn that 
 
 was. 
 And the Moorish watch discovered, when the fair 
 
 daybreak shone, 
 How forth from the tsar's army Marko the Prince 
 
 was gone. 
 Then shouted all the Moorish watch: "O furious 
 
 Moors, set on! 
 The hero on the great gray steed the terrible is 
 
 gone !" 
 The Moors set on, and of the host slew thirty 
 
 thousand men; 
 And the tsar wrote a letter unto Prince Marko 
 
 then: 
 "My good son by adoption, come quickly here 
 
 again, 
 For thirty thousand men of mine have been in battle 
 
 slain!" 
 
 [156]
 
 But Marko said: "How then may I come 
 
 quickly, father mine? 
 For as yet I have not drunken my fill of the yellow 
 
 wine, 
 
 And much less have I started my holiday to hold." 
 And lo, upon the morrow, when broke the morn- 
 ing cold, 
 Then shouted all the Moorish watch: "O furious 
 
 Moors, set on! 
 The hero on the great gray steed the terrible is 
 
 gone !" 
 
 The Moors set on, and of the host slew sixty thou- 
 sand men; 
 Once more the great Tsar Bajazet wrote to Prince 
 
 Marko then: 
 "My good son by adoption, come quickly here 
 
 again, 
 For sixty thousand men of mine have been in battle 
 
 slain !" 
 But Marko said: "My father, a little must 
 
 thou wait ; 
 I have not yet regaled my friends as well befits their 
 
 state." 
 On the third day shouted the Moorish watch: 
 
 "O furious Moors, set on! 
 The hero on the great gray steed the terrible is 
 
 gone !" 
 The Moors set on, and slaughtered an hundred 
 
 thousand men; 
 And the tsar wrote a letter unto Prince Marko 
 
 then: 
 
 [157]
 
 "Before God for my foster child thee, Marko, 
 
 will I own; 
 Come very quickly, for the Moors my camp have 
 
 overthrown !" 
 Marko mounted on Dapple, he rode to the tsar's 
 
 array; 
 When day broke, the two armies they clashed in 
 
 the melee. 
 When the Moorish watch saw Marko, they cried: 
 
 "Ye Moors, begone! 
 The hero on the great gray steed the terrible, 
 
 comes on!" 
 Marko smote on the Moorish host ; three ways their 
 
 host he drave. 
 He slashed throughout one army with the edges of 
 
 the glaive, 
 The second of the armies on Dapple he trampled 
 
 o'er, 
 And herded the third before the tsar. But Marko 
 
 was wounded sore; 
 Seventy wounds at the Moors' hands on Marko's 
 
 body there are. 
 On the tsar's breast f alleth Marko, and to him saith 
 
 the tsar: 
 "Marko, my good foster child, by thy wounds 
 
 now art thou slain? 
 Can the doctors with their wrappings recover thee 
 
 again?" 
 Prince Marko then made answer: "No deadly 
 
 wounds they are, 
 And I deem that I shall recover." And thereupon 
 
 the tsar 
 
 [158]
 
 Thrust hand into pouch and to him a thousand 
 
 ducats gave, 
 That the Prince Marko might go forth his wounds 
 
 to heal and lave ; 
 And the tsar sends forth two faithful lads, lest 
 
 Marko the Prince should die. 
 But Marko sought not a doctor; from inn to inn 
 
 did he hie, 
 And ever sought Prince Marko where the best wine 
 
 was to drain. 
 Scarce had he drunk his fill thereof, when his 
 
 wounds were healed again. 
 But a fine-written letter to the Prince Marko 
 
 came, 
 That his houses all were plundered and ravaged 
 
 with the flame, 
 And the body of his mother trampled over by the 
 
 steed, 
 
 And his faithful wife a captive his enemy did lead. 
 Then Marko mourned and to the tsar, his foster 
 
 father, said: 
 "My foster father, my white house is ravaged in 
 
 the raid; 
 My faithful bride upon this tide a captive do they 
 
 lead; 
 Over my mother's body have they trampled with 
 
 the steed; 
 The money in my treasury is stolen from me this 
 
 day: 
 
 Mina of Kostur, he it was who carried it away." 
 The tsar spake comfort: 
 
 [159]
 
 "Foster son, my Marko, 
 
 do not fear. 
 If these thine houses have been burned, I w.ill build 
 
 thee better here ; 
 Beside my houses and like to mine shall they be 
 
 built for thee. 
 If thy gold is stolen, a farmer of my taxes shalt 
 
 thou be, 
 And thou shalt gather treasure. If thy wife is led 
 
 away, 
 I will give thee a better lady upon the wedding 
 
 day." 
 Said Marko: 
 
 "My foster father, glory to thee 
 
 again 1 
 When thou buildest the houses for me, orphans will 
 
 curse me then, 
 Saying: 'This rascal Marko, his houses were 
 
 burned of late ; 
 
 Now may these new-built for him be likewise deso- 
 late!' 
 If thou makest me farmer of taxes, till I bind poor, 
 
 needy men, 
 I cannot gather the taxes, and orphans will curse 
 
 me then, 
 Saying : 'This rascal Marko, what gold he had of 
 
 late 
 Was stolen ; what he hath presently, may it too be 
 
 desolate !' 
 To another how wilt thou wed me, while yet my 
 
 wife doth live? 
 
 Three hundred janissaries I prithee to me give; 
 [160]
 
 Forge for them crooked pruning hooks and of slen- 
 der hoes no lack ; 
 And to white Kostur will I go, if perchance I may 
 
 win her back." 
 Three hundred janissaries were his at the tsa/'s 
 
 command ; 
 The tsar forged crooked pruning hooks and slender 
 
 hoes to their hand. 
 To the three hundred Marko his counsel gave 
 
 aright : 
 "Go, my three hundred brethren ; go now to 
 
 Kostur the white. 
 When ye are come to Kostur, the Greeks will be 
 
 merry thus: 
 'Here are laborers ; cheap enow will they tend our 
 
 vines for us !' 
 But do ye naught, my brethren. Abide in Kostur 
 
 the town ; 
 Drink the clear wine and brandy, till thither I come 
 
 down." 
 
 The three hundred j anissaries they went to Kos- 
 tur the white, 
 
 But Marko to Mount Athos, unto the holy height ; 
 And there he took communion and moreover did 
 
 confess 
 For the blood he had shed, then clad him in a black 
 
 c&loyer's 1 dress ; 
 He let his beard to the girdle grow, and a monk's 
 
 hat put on his head. 
 
 iMonk of the Greek church; see Byron, Childe Harold, 
 ii, 49. 
 
 [161]
 
 Then he leaped to the back of Dapple, to Kostur 
 
 the white he sped. 
 When he came to Mina of Kostur, there Mina sat 
 
 to dine, 
 And Marko's wife served Mina the cups of yellow 
 
 wine: 
 "In God's name, thou black caloyer," did Mina 
 
 to him say, 
 "Tell me, prithee, where gottest thou the little 
 
 dapple gray?" 
 Prince Marko said: 
 
 "Friend Mina, by the true 
 
 God do I swear, 
 In the fierce Moorish country, with the tsar's host 
 
 was I there. 
 There was a fool, Prince Marko, that dying there 
 
 I saw, 
 And I buried him according to our custom and our 
 
 law. 
 A gift for his soul's salvation they gave this steed 
 
 to me." 
 When Mina of Kostur heard it, he leaped up 
 
 joyfully, 
 And said: 
 
 "Nine years have I waited until these 
 
 tidings came! 
 For Marko's house have I plundered and ravaged 
 
 with the flame ; 
 His faithful wife have I made a slave, but I would 
 
 not break her vow, 
 Black priest, till Marko perished, and thou shalt 
 
 marry me now!" 
 
 162]
 
 Up Marko took the holy book, and thereupon 
 
 did wed 
 
 Mina unto the woman he had ta'en to his own bed. 
 Then sat they down to speak fair words and drink 
 
 the yellow wine. 
 Said Mina: 
 
 "Hearest thou, Yelitsa, O heart 
 and soul of mine? 
 Till now wast thou Marko's lady ; henceforth thou 
 
 art Mina's wife ! 
 Go now to the treasure house below, I prithee, soul 
 
 of my life, 
 And bring three cups of ducats to give the caloyer 
 
 black." 
 Yelitsa brought from the treasure three cups of 
 
 ducats back; 
 She took not Mina's money, but Marko's. A rusty 
 
 glaive 
 She brought up with the money, and to the priest 
 
 she gave: 
 "Here is for thee, black caloyer, a gift for Marko's 
 
 sake." 
 Marko took up the saber, and looked at it, and 
 
 spake : 
 "Mina, the lord of Kostur, is it seemly in thine 
 
 eyes, 
 To dance here at thy wedding after the monkish 
 
 wise ?" 
 Quoth Mina of Kostur to him : "Black caloyej, 
 
 to thee 
 
 Surely it is permitted. Wherefore should it not 
 be?" 
 
 [163]
 
 Marko leaped on his nimble feet twice and thrice 
 
 him about; 
 The tower's foundations trembled as he drew the 
 
 saber out. 
 
 He drew the rusty saber, he swung it left and right ; 
 The head from Mina's shoulders at one stroke did 
 
 he smite. 
 From his white throat he shouted : "Lord Mina's 
 
 days are done ; 
 
 Ho, all my janissaries! my laborers, come on!" 
 Three hundred janissaries through Mina's man- 
 sions came; 
 They plundered his white palace and ravaged it 
 
 with flame. 
 Marko brought home his faithful wife and Mina's 
 
 horde along, 
 And went unto white Prilip with chanting and with 
 
 song. 
 
 [164]
 
 PRINCE MARKO AND BEY KOSTADIN 
 
 PRINCE MARKO and Bey Kostadin, brothers in 
 
 God were they ; 
 
 They rode their steeds together. Outspoke Kos- 
 tadin the Bey: 
 "Prince Marko, now I prithee, thou art my 
 
 brother sworn; 
 
 Come to me in the autumn, on St. Demetrius' morn, 
 The feast day of my patron saint. Much honor 
 
 wilt thou see, 
 
 And a fair feast and a welcome becoming my de- 
 gree." 
 Said Marko: 
 
 "Boast not of thy feast ! When 
 I sought for my brother born, 
 Andriya, I dwelt in autumn with thee. On St. 
 
 Demetrius' morn, 
 The feast day of thy patron saint, I saw the feast 
 
 of thy pride, 
 
 And also in the selfsame hour three cruel deeds be- 
 side." 
 Said Bey Kostadin: "Marko, my brother 
 
 sworn art thou; 
 Say to me of what cruel deeds thou speakest to me 
 
 now." 
 Said Marko: 
 
 "The first cruel deed after this 
 wise befell. 
 
 There came two orphans unto thee that thou 
 mightst feed them well 
 
 [165]
 
 With the white bread, and give them the ruddy 
 
 wine to drain. 
 But thou saidst: 'Ye mere scum of the earth, 
 
 now get you hence amain ! 
 Ye shall not defile the wine before my gentlefolk 
 
 this day.' 
 Bey, I pitied the orphans and with them went 
 
 away; 
 And I took them to the market and fed them on 
 
 white bread, 
 And gave them to drink of the ruddy wine, and 
 
 clad them in satin red, 
 
 And in green silk moreover. Unto thy house again 
 I sent them, and looked to see thee, how them thou 
 
 wouldst entertain. 
 One thou tookest on either hand ; to the table thou 
 
 leddest them then : 
 
 'Eat and drink,' thou saidst, 'ye sons of gentle- 
 men!' 
 "Thy second cruel deed was this. When ancient 
 
 squires forlorn 
 Came there, who had lost their money, and whose 
 
 scarlet was outworn, 
 Thou evermore didst set them at the foot of the 
 
 table there; 
 But whoso of the younger squires at thy festival 
 
 that were, 
 Who had gained new hordes of money, and whose 
 
 scarlet was fresh and new, 
 Evermore thou broughtest them the head of the 
 
 board unto ; 
 
 166]
 
 Thou didst pour the wine and brandy before them 
 fast and free; 
 
 There was a feast and welcome, befitting thy de- 
 gree. 
 
 "This is thy third cruel deed, O bey. Father 
 and mother are thine; 
 
 Neither is ever at thy board nor draineth first the 
 wine." 
 
 [167]
 
 PRINCE MARKO AND THE DAUGHTER 
 OF THE MOORISH KING 
 
 His mother asks Prince Marko : 
 
 "Marko, my little 
 
 son, 
 
 So many monasteries wherefore hast thou begun? 
 Hast thou sinned before God? Or by good hap 
 
 hast thou won the gold abroad?" 
 Marko of Prilip answered: 
 
 "I will tell in the 
 
 name of God. 
 Once, when I was in the Moorish land, at dawn to 
 
 a cistern fair 
 
 I went, that Dapple might drink thereof; and be- 
 hold, at the water there, 
 Were twelve Moors. Out of my due time I wished 
 
 to water the steed; 
 The twelve Moors would not let me, and a battle 
 
 did we breed. 
 Thereat I drew the heavy mace, and smote a black 
 
 Moor down. 
 
 We smote against each other, eleven against one. 
 Two I smote down, and ten of them came furiously 
 
 at me. 
 Then nine of them must I abide, for I had stricken 
 
 three. 
 The fourth fell ; eight were the champions against 
 
 me that did drive. 
 But I struck again ; on the red ground lay ruddy 
 
 corpses five. 
 
 [168]
 
 I slew the sixth, but was taken by the six that were 
 
 left alive. 
 They bound me, and they bore me to the Moorish 
 
 king along; 
 
 And the king of the Moors threw me into the dun- 
 geon strong. 
 
 Seven years was I in it : when summer was at hand 
 I knew not, nor when winter had come across the 
 
 land; 
 Except that, when in winter the girls the snowballs 
 
 cast, 
 Then would they toss a snowball into the dungeon 
 
 fast; 
 And then I knew it was winter, as I lay within the 
 
 tower. 
 In the summer, they would throw me a sprig of 
 
 basil flower, 
 And I knew it was summer. The eighth year in 
 
 prison that I was, 
 
 I wearied not of prison, but of a Moorish lass. 
 Unto the Moorish Sultan the daughter dear was 
 
 she; 
 Night and morn to the window of the tower she 
 
 summoned me: 
 " 'Marko, poor lad, in the dungeon I prithee rot 
 
 not here, 
 But give true pledge thou wilt take me to be thy 
 
 true love dear, 
 If I free thee from the dungeon, and thy Dapple 
 
 from the hold. 
 Marko, unto thy heart's desire will I gather ducats 
 
 of gold.' 
 
 [169]
 
 "When I saw that might was against me, and 
 strength compelling me, 
 
 I took my cap from off my head, and swore to it 
 on my knee, 
 
 A firm pledge to the cap I swore: 
 
 'Thee I will 
 never leave; 
 
 A firm pledge, and moreover, ne'er will I thee de- 
 ceive. 
 
 E'en the sun is false ; he warms not winter as sum- 
 mertide 
 
 Never will I renounce the pledge; thereby will I 
 
 abide.' 
 
 "Then thought the Moorish maiden that unto 
 her I swore. 
 
 One night, at fall of darkness, she opened the dun- 
 geon door 
 
 And led me out of the dungeon, and Dapple from 
 the hold, 
 
 And a better horse for herself. On both were hol- 
 sters full of gold ; 
 
 She brought a silver-hilted sword. On the horses 
 we laid hand, 
 
 And forthwith galloped onward over the Moorish 
 land. 
 
 When the dawn shone, my mother, I sat me down 
 to rest; 
 
 And the Moorish maid, with her black arms she 
 clasped me to her breast. 
 
 When I looked on her, my mother, she was black 
 and her teeth were white, 
 
 170]
 
 And it was a thing unpleasing and dreadful in my 
 
 sight. 
 The silver-hilted saber forth from the sheath I 
 
 drew; 
 I smote her under her silken belt; the blade cut 
 
 through and through. 
 I seized on Dapple ; still the head of the Moorish 
 
 maid spake on : 
 'My brother Marko, wretched lad, leave me not 
 
 here alone.' 
 Then, mother, I sinned in the sight of God, but 
 
 gained much gold and gear, 
 Whereby the monasteries and churches fair I rear." 
 
 [171]
 
 PRINCE MARKO'S PLOWING 
 
 WITH his mother, Yevrosima, his thirst did Marko 
 
 slake 
 On the red wine. When they had drunk, to him 
 
 his mother spake: 
 "O thou, Prince Marko, prithee cease from the 
 
 ravage and the raid; 
 
 Never on earth is evil with a good deed repaid. 
 Weary is thy mother of washing from thy shirts 
 
 the crimson stain. 
 But do thou now yoke ox to plow, and plow the 
 
 hill and the plain. 
 Sow thou the white wheat, little son, that thou 
 
 and I may sup." 
 Marko harkened his mother, and he yoked the 
 
 oxen up; 
 He plows not the hill, nor the valley ; but he plows 
 
 the tsar's highway. 
 Some j anissaries came thereby ; three packs of gold 
 
 had they: 
 "Plow not the tsar his highway, Prince Marko," 
 
 said they then. 
 "Ye Turks, mar not my plowing!" he answered 
 
 them again. 
 "Plow not the tsar his highway, Prince Marko," 
 
 they said anew. 
 "Ye Turks, mar not my plowing!" he answered 
 
 thereunto. 
 
 But Marko was vext; in anger he lifted ox and 
 plow, 
 
 [172]
 
 And the Turkish janissaries he slew them at a 
 
 blow, 
 And their three packs of treasure to his mother he 
 
 bore away : 
 "Lo, mother, what my plowing hath won for thee 
 
 to-day !" 
 
 [173]
 
 MARKO DRINKS WINE IN RAMAZAN 
 
 THERE was an edict sent abroad by the Tsar Suley- 
 
 man 
 That none should drink the yellow wine in the 
 
 month of Ramazan, 
 
 That none should wear green tunics, nor silver- 
 inlaid dirks, 
 And that none should dance, moreover, with the 
 
 women of the Turks. 
 But Marko dances among them, and inlaid with 
 
 silver wan 
 Is his blade, and green is his tunic, and he tipples 
 
 in Ramazan. 
 And the Turkish priests and pilgrims, he maketh 
 
 them drink likewise. 
 And the Turks go to the palace unto Suleyman's 
 
 assize : 
 "Father and mother of us all art thou, Tsar 
 
 Suleyman. 
 Saith not thine edict: none shall drink liquor in 
 
 Ramazan ; 
 
 And that none shall wear green tunics, nor silver- 
 inlaid dirks ; 
 And that none shall dance, moreover, with the 
 
 women of the Turks? 
 Now Marko dances among them; and inlaid with 
 
 silver wan 
 Is his blade ; and green is his tunic ; and he tipples 
 
 in Ramazan. 
 Wine he may drink and welcome, if it seem good 
 
 in his eyes, 
 
 [1ft]
 
 But the Turkish priests and pilgrims, he maketh 
 
 them drink likewise." 
 When the tsar heard their story, he summoned 
 
 his heralds twain: 
 "Go, heralds, to Prince Marko, bid him come 
 
 hither amain." 
 Forth issued the two heralds ; upon their way they 
 
 went, 
 And they found Prince Marko drinking in the 
 
 shadow of his tent. 
 And a cup that held twelve measures is ready to 
 
 his hand. 
 The heralds twain gave unto him the word of the 
 
 tsar's command: 
 "Dost thou then hear, Prince Marko? It is 
 
 good in the tsar's eyes 
 That thou come to his council, and the court of 
 
 his assize." 
 O, angry was Prince Marko ! He snatched the 
 
 goblet up, 
 And he smote the tsar's two heralds in his anger, 
 
 with the cup. 
 The cup rang and the head rang; the blood and 
 
 wine ran free. 
 And Marko went to the tsar's assize, and sat at 
 
 the tsar's right knee. 
 And the black cap of sable fur he pulled across 
 
 his face, 
 And he laid his saber across his breast, and his 
 
 hand upon his mace: 
 "My foster child, Prince Marko," said the Tsar 
 
 Suleyman, 
 
 [175]
 
 Mine edict saith: none shall drink wine in the 
 month of Ramazan ; 
 
 And none shall wear green tunics, nor silver-in- 
 laid dirks, 
 
 And none shall dance, moreover, with the women 
 of the Turks. 
 
 Now here be worthy Moslems that have spoken 
 evilly. 
 
 Alas, my poor son Marko, I wot they have slan- 
 dered thee I 
 
 That thou dancest with Turkish matrons, and in- 
 laid with silver wan 
 
 Is thy blade; and green is thy tunic; and thou 
 tipplest in Ramazan ; 
 
 And the Turkish priests and pilgrims, thou mak- 
 est them drink likewise ! 
 
 Now wherefore pullest thou, my son, thy cap 
 across thine eyes? 
 
 Why is thy mace beside thee, and thy saber across 
 
 thy breast?" 
 And forthwith strong Prince Marko Tsar 
 
 Suleyman addressed: 
 
 "0 thou, my foster father, the great Tsar Suley- 
 man, 
 
 It is permitted of my faith to drink in Ramazan. 
 
 And for the priests and pilgrims, my honor would 
 be gone, 
 
 If they should look upon me, and I should drink 
 alone. 
 
 If I wear a good green tunic, I am young; it be- 
 comes my youth. 
 
 [176]
 
 If I gird an inlaid saber, I paid my money in 
 
 sooth. 
 If I dance with the Turkish women, O tsar, I am 
 
 yet unwed, 
 And once, O tsar, a woman had come not to thy 
 
 bed. 
 If I pull my cap on my forehead, it burns, for I 
 
 speak with the tsar. 
 And for the freeing of my mace, and drawing the 
 
 scimitar, 
 O tsar, in my heart I fear me that battle is hard 
 
 at hand: 
 It is ill in battle the nearest to Marko, the Prince, 
 
 to stand." 
 The tsar looked in all quarters another man to 
 
 see, 
 But nearer to Prince Marko there was no man than 
 
 he; 
 Nearest was the Tsar Suleyman. He drew back 
 
 in the hall, 
 But Marko followed onward, and drove him to the 
 
 wall. 
 From his pouch drew Tsar Suleyman an hundred 
 
 ducats fine, 
 And gave them to Marko, saying: "Marko, go 
 
 drink the wine." 
 
 177]
 
 THE DEATH OF MARKO KRALYEVICH 
 
 PRINCE MARKO rose up early on Sunday before 
 
 the sun, 
 On Mount Urvina by the seacoast. And as he 
 
 rode thereon, 
 Dapple the stallion staggered sore; from his eyes 
 
 ran bitter tears. 
 Marko it grieved. He spake to the steed: 
 
 "A 
 
 hundred and sixty years, 
 Dapple, my gallant stallion, are gone since I came 
 
 on thee. 
 Never hast thou staggered; yet to-day hast thou 
 
 staggered under me, 
 And thou sheddest tears. God knoweth there is 
 
 no good from the sign: 
 
 The one of us is in danger ; thy life it is or mine." 
 While Marko spake, a vila on Urvina's steep 
 
 side 
 In summons to Prince Marko lifted her voice and 
 
 cried: 
 "Knowest thou, Marko, my brother sworn, why 
 
 stumbles Dapple, thine horse? 
 He sorrows for thee, his master, since soon will ye 
 
 part perforce." 
 Said Marko to the vila : 
 
 "May thy throat ache 
 
 for this ! 
 How should I part with Dapple? Cities and em- 
 
 peries 
 
 [178]
 
 Have I not passed over and traversed, from the 
 
 east unto the west? 
 And Dapple, my steed, was ever of all good steeds 
 
 the best; 
 And I was the best of the heroes. He shall not 
 
 from me be led, 
 While upon Marko's shoulders remaineth Marko's 
 
 head." 
 Said the vila: 
 
 "Marko, my brother sworn, 
 
 none shall take Dapple so. 
 Neither shalt thou die at a hero's hands by any 
 
 saber blow, 
 Nor by the shock of the heavy mace, nor piercing 
 
 of the spear; 
 For any hero of the earth, Prince Marko, have no 
 
 fear. 
 But Marko, God shall slay thee, the ancient slayer 
 
 of men. 
 If thou wilt not believe me, go up to the mountain 
 
 then. 
 Aloft shalt thou see two slender firs on the left 
 
 and on the right; 
 
 They have overhung the mountain with the sum- 
 mits of their might. 
 And all the air is spicy with their fair needles 
 
 green; 
 And there runneth a spring of water the slender 
 
 trees between. 
 There turn and dismount from Dapple; to a tree 
 
 the steed shalt thou tie. 
 
 [179]
 
 Raise thyself over the water-spring that bubbles 
 up hard by, 
 
 And look at thy face in the water. Thou shalt 
 
 see when thou shalt die." 
 
 Marko obeyed. Aloft he looked on the left and 
 on the right 
 
 At the firs that overhung the mount with the sum- 
 mits of their might, 
 
 And all the air was spicy with the fair needles 
 green. 
 
 There Marko halted Dapple in a little space be- 
 tween, 
 
 And to a fir tree in the midst the charger did he 
 tie. 
 
 He raised himself o'er the water-spring that bub- 
 bled up hard by ; 
 
 And when Marko looked on the water, he saw when 
 he should die. 
 
 He wept apace and spake apace: 
 
 "Ah, lying 
 world, fair flower 
 
 Fair wast thou and too little have I roamed thee 
 in my hour, 
 
 Three hundred years ; and now must part from 
 
 thy pleasure and thy power!" 
 From his girdle the Prince Marko drew out the 
 iron glaive, 
 
 And he went to the steed Dapple, and Dapple's 
 neck he clave, 
 
 That Dapple might come never to a Turk, a prize 
 of war, 
 
 [180]
 
 And do him bitter service bearing water in the 
 
 jar. 
 
 When he had slaughtered Dapple, he buried Dap- 
 ple the steed; 
 A better grave the horse he gave than to Andrew, 
 
 his brother, indeed. 
 The mighty glaive, thereafter, he broke in pieces 
 
 four, 
 Lest it should come into Turkish hands, and the 
 
 Turks should be glad therefor, 
 And rejoice for the sword of Marko to their hand 
 
 that had fallen then ; 
 And lest, moreover, he should be curst by any 
 
 Christian men. 
 When he had broken the saber, in seven the spear 
 
 broke he, 
 And threw it among the fir twigs. The rough 
 
 mace mightily 
 He grasped, and from Urvina hurled it into the 
 
 thick blue sea; 
 And Marko said: "When that club of mine aris- 
 
 eth out of the main, 
 
 Then will there be a hero upon the earth again." 
 When he had ruined his weapons, then pen and 
 
 ink he drew 
 From his belt, and from his pocket white paper 
 
 fresh and new. 
 And he writes a letter: 
 
 "Whoever over Urvina 
 
 shall fare 
 To the cold spring between the firs, and finds brave 
 
 Marko there, 
 
 [181]
 
 Let him know forthwith that perished at last is 
 
 Marko the bold. 
 About him are three money-belts. What treasure 
 
 do they hold? 
 Therein is a lordly treasure of ducats of yellow 
 
 gold. 
 One belt will I give with my blessing to him who 
 
 buries me; 
 With the second belt let churches be sculptured 
 
 splendidly ; 
 And the third belt I bequeath it to the maimed and 
 
 to the blind, 
 That they may sing of Marko and his fame be 
 
 kept in mind." 
 When the letter was written, he thrust it upon 
 
 a twig of the fir, 
 Whence from the road it might be seen by any 
 
 wayfarer. 
 The golden writing-set therewith into the spring 
 
 he threw, 
 And his good mantle of the green from off his 
 
 shoulders drew. 
 He spread the mantle beneath the fir, and the sign 
 
 of the cross made then ; 
 He pulled the sables over his eyes, and lay there, 
 
 nor rose again. 
 Dead was Marko beside the spring. For a week, 
 
 from day to day, 
 Whoever saw Prince Marko that traveled along 
 
 that way, 
 Deemed that the good Prince Marko asleep was 
 
 lying there ; 
 
 [182]
 
 And, fearing to awake him, a long way round 
 
 would they fare. 
 Where'er is found good fortune, misfortune 
 
 cometh apace, 
 And wherever evil hap is found, good cometh soon 
 
 in the place. 
 Abbot Basil of Athos from the church Vilindar the 
 
 white, 
 He it was spied Prince Marko, with Isaias his 
 
 acolyte. 
 He held his hand : "Lightly, my son, see that thou 
 
 wake him not. 
 After sleep is Marko moody ; he may kill us on the 
 
 spot." 
 But the monk saw how Marko slept. The letter 
 
 he espied, 
 And he read throughout the letter that told how 
 
 Marko died. 
 The monk dismounted from the steed, and raised 
 
 up Marko the bold. 
 Marko was dead. The bitter tears down Basil's 
 
 cheek they rolled, 
 And he sorrowed sore for Marko. The belts of 
 
 golden pelf 
 
 He ungirded from the hero, and belted on himself. 
 On many a grave he pondered, where to bury 
 
 Marko dead. 
 
 He chose ; and got him on the horse, and to the sea- 
 shore sped. 
 In a ship he laid Prince Marko. And to Athos 
 
 the Holy Height 
 
 [183]
 
 He bore him, to Vilmdar, the stately and the 
 
 white, 
 And there the funeral liturgy over the prince he 
 
 read 
 And likewise sang the requiem before they graved 
 
 the dead. 
 There the old man buried Marko. No mark he 
 
 placed him o'er, 
 That none might say where the hero lay, and mock 
 
 at him therefore. 
 
 [184]
 
 BALLADS OF SERVIA UNDER TURKISH 
 RULE
 
 THE MAIDEN MARGITA AND RAYKO THE 
 VOYVODA l 
 
 NOT yet the dawn had whitened, nor the day star 
 
 shown its face; 
 Men thought not of day forth Margita the maid 
 
 walked in the place, 
 In Sriyem over Slankamen ; 2 barefoot the damsel 
 
 sprang 
 
 Over the stone so early. In delicate wise she sang, 
 But Rayko in the song she cursed: 
 
 "Rayko, 
 
 may God thee slay ! 
 The Turks have plagued us grievously in Sriyem, 
 
 since the day 
 When thou becamest voyvoda. When Mirko ruled 
 
 the land, 
 We heard of no Turk, nor ever saw one before us 
 
 stand ; 
 But now they plague us grievously. Their horses' 
 
 feet are sore 
 
 For riding night and morning in our country ever- 
 more. 
 The very fields on their horsehoofs are lifted and 
 
 stolen away, 
 And the air is full of javelins and their throwing- 
 
 darts to-day." 
 
 1 In the translation of this ballad slightly more than a 
 third of the original has been omitted. The canceled lines 
 give the names and dwelling-places of numerous Servian 
 vofvodas not mentioned elsewhere in this volume. 
 
 2 That is, "Salt-stone." 
 
 [187]
 
 So sang the girl of Sriyem, and deemed that none 
 
 could hear, 
 But Voyvoda Rayko saw her, and the curse came 
 
 to his ear ; 
 And he called the maiden Margita: 
 
 "Sister," he 
 
 saith, "do thou 
 No more curse Rayko the voyvoda. What more 
 
 can he do now? 
 What may he do for himself? And what for 
 
 Sriyem in this hour? 
 What shall he do in Sriyem against the Turkish 
 
 power? 
 While Mirko was the voyvoda, in our cities in their 
 
 turn 
 Were many voyvodas. Stay thou ; their number 
 
 thou shalt learn. 
 
 At Potserye on Sava his dwelling Milosh made. 
 He was vizier of Lazar in many-towered Belgrade. 
 
 In Krushevats, the white city, glorious Lazar had 
 his hall, 
 
 With his fair son beside him, the good lad Stevan 
 the Tall. 
 
 Yug Bogdan, the old hero, with the nine sons of 
 his might, 
 
 Dwelt in another city, Prokuplye the white. 
 
 At the white town of Kurshumliya was Strahin, 
 the great ban ; 
 
 At Toplitsa, Milan Toplitsa, where the chill wa- 
 ters ran. 
 
 [188]
 
 At flat Kosaynitsa, Ivan Kosanchich, the mighty 
 man, 
 
 
 
 In Travnik, the white, Vuk Brankovich was Lazar's 
 
 high vizier; 
 Duke Stepan l in Herzegovina ruled the country 
 
 without fear. 
 
 At Skadar on the Boyana, Vukashin was the king. 
 With his brethren Goyko and Uglyesha, to help 
 
 in governing. 
 And in Prizrend, where the plowland reacheth so 
 
 fair and far, 
 With his little son, Prince Urosh, was Stepan the 
 
 Servian tsar. 
 
 
 
 Starma Novak 2 held the rule on Stara, the moun- 
 tain old; 
 
 And with him Radivoye, his brother, called the 
 bold, 
 
 And Tatomir and Gruitsa dwelt with them in the 
 hold. 
 
 And, moreover, Bey Kostadin dwelt in Kiimanovo 
 white. 
 
 And Prince Marko in white Prilip, in the mansion 
 
 of his might. 
 
 "Harken thou, sister Margita, our voyvodas 
 were they; 
 
 1 Ertseg Stepan. 
 
 2 The introduction into this ballad of a hero of the late 
 sixteenth century is of course an anachronism. 
 
 [189]
 
 All of them were among us, and all have passed 
 
 away. 
 Some died in their beds, sister, and some in battle 
 
 were slain ; 
 To-day doth Rayko alone of them in Sriyem yet 
 
 remain, 
 Like a dry tree in the mountain grove. What 
 
 shall he do in this hour? 
 What shall he do in Sriyem against the Turkish 
 
 power?" 
 From his belt he drew a dagger through his 
 
 live heart it sped; 
 On the black earth Rayko of Sriyem, the voyvoda, 
 
 lay dead. 
 And Margita ran to him; with a wailing cry she 
 
 said: 
 "My brothers, Servian voyvodas ; you have been 
 
 and have passed away ! 
 How have you left your children and your faithful 
 
 wives this day? 
 Are they not now a footstool, that Turkish feet 
 
 may rest? 
 
 Are not your monasteries become a Turkish jest?" 
 She snatched the dagger of Rayko, through her 
 
 live heart smote it well, 
 And dead the wretched maiden by the dead Rayko 
 
 fell. 
 
 [190]
 
 HOW STARfNA NOVAK BECAME A 
 HAYDUK 
 
 NOVAK and Rado drank the wine near Bosna the 
 
 river cold, 
 With Bogosav. When they had drunk as much 
 
 as they could hold, 
 Prince Bogosav began to speak: 
 
 "Starina 
 
 Novak," said he, 
 "My brother sworn, now speak the truth, so may 
 
 God prosper thee! 
 
 Why didst thou join the outlaws? What con- 
 straint on thee was laid 
 To go to the wood to break thy neck, and to ply 
 
 a wretched trade? 
 And in thine age, moreover, when thy season was 
 
 past and sped?" 
 Starina Novak spake to him: 
 
 "Prince Bo- 
 gosav," he said, 
 "My brother sworn, since thou askest me, I will 
 
 even tell thee the truth; 
 But it was through a hard constraint that I fled, 
 
 in very sooth. 
 Thou mayst remember, when Yerina did Sme"derevo 
 
 rear, 
 She made me a day laborer. I labored there three 
 
 year. 
 Wood and stone did I haul for her with my oxen 
 
 and my wain, 
 
 [191]
 
 And in the space of full three years not a penny 
 
 did I gain ; 
 Not even bark sandals for my feet could I win my 
 
 labor by. 
 And that I should have pardoned her. When the 
 
 town was builded high, 
 She would build towers and gild the doors and 
 
 windows of the hold. 
 Each house in the vilayet she taxed three measures 
 
 of gold, 
 That is three hundred ducats. Who gave, in the 
 
 place might live; 
 But I was poverty-stricken, and had no gold to 
 
 give. 
 With the mattock, wherewith I had labored, to the 
 
 outlaws I fled amain. 
 I could not stay where Yerina, the accursed one, 
 
 did reign, 
 But ran to the cold Drina, and to rocky Bosnia 
 
 fled. 
 When I came near Romaniya, there Turkish 
 
 wooers led 
 A Turkish damsel homeward. In peace they 
 
 passed by me. 
 There remained the Turkish bridegroom; on a 
 
 great brown steed was he. 
 In peace that Turkish bridegroom he would not 
 
 let me pass, 
 But forth he drew a triple whip with three knobs 
 
 of yellow brass. 
 Thrice he smote me on the shoulders. Thrice I 
 
 prayed him in God's name:
 
 " 'I pray thee, Turkish bridegroom, mayst thou 
 
 have courage and fame! 
 Mayst thou have a happy marriage, but pass me 
 
 by in peace! 
 Thou seest how poor a man am I. 5 
 
 "But the 
 
 bridegroom would not cease ; 
 But rather in his anger began to smite the 
 
 more. 
 Then at last was I angry, for my shoulders were 
 
 waxen sore. 
 With the mattock on my shoulder, the bridegroom 
 
 did I smite 
 With one blow from the brown steed's back, though 
 
 the stroke was passing light. 
 And then I leaped upon him, and smote him where 
 
 he lay, 
 Twice or thrice, till his spirit from the body fled 
 
 away. 
 I reached my hand in his pockets, and there found 
 
 purses three; 
 
 I put them in my bosom, and girt his saber on me. 
 I left the mattock at his head that the Turks 
 
 might have withal 
 Something to bury him with ; the steed I mounted, 
 
 brown and tall. 
 To the wood of Romaniya I went; the wooers saw 
 
 me there; 
 But wished not to pursue me, or haply did not 
 
 dare. 
 "It is forty year. The forest is better known 
 
 to me 
 
 [193]
 
 Than the house of my habitation was ever wont 
 
 to be. 
 The roads across the mountains I watch them and 
 
 I hold. 
 From the youths of Sarayevo I take their silver 
 
 and gold, 
 And their linen and velvet for me and mine; and 
 
 I can go abroad 
 And stand in the place of danger, for I fear none 
 
 but God."
 
 STARfNA NOVAK AND THE BOLD 
 RADIVOYE 
 
 STAHINA NOVAK drank the wine on Romaniya the 
 
 green hill, 
 And Radivoye, his brother, drank with him with a 
 
 will; 
 
 And Gruitsa, Starma's son, Radivoye sat before; 
 With Gruitsa was Tatomir and thirty hayduks 
 
 more. 
 When the hayduks in good fellowship had drunk 
 
 the liquor cold, 
 Then spake unto his brother Radivoye, called the 
 
 bold: 
 "Hearest thou, brother Novak? I will leave 
 
 thee behind me now. 
 Thou canst not go a-raiding; too grievous old art 
 
 thou. 
 Thou dost not love to gallop on the highway any 
 
 more, 
 
 To lie in wait for traders that come from the sea- 
 shore." 
 So spake bold Radivoye. He leaped from the 
 
 ground to his feet, 
 
 He seized on Breshka by the waist ; the thirty fol- 
 lowed fleet. 
 Rado l went over the black mount ; 'neath a green 
 
 fir Novak lay, 
 With his two young sons. Brave Rado came to 
 
 a crossing in the way. 
 
 i An abbreviation for Radivoye. 
 
 [195]
 
 A wretched chance befell him, for Mehmed the 
 Moor rode there ; 
 
 With thirty heroes and three great packs of treas- 
 ure the Turks did fare. 
 
 When Mehmed saw the hayduks, he shouted to his 
 men; 
 
 The champions drew their sabers and rushed on 
 the outlaws then. 
 
 They had no chance in that short time their mus- 
 kets to let drive. 
 
 The Turks smote thirty heads off, and Rado seized 
 alive ; 
 
 They bound his hands behind him; they led him 
 o'er the hill, 
 
 With insult, but bold Rado sang to them with a 
 
 will: 
 
 "God slay thee, Mount Romaniya! Dost thou 
 breed no hawk in thee? 
 
 Flew a flock of doves with a raven before their 
 company ; 
 
 A white swan led they, and treasure beneath their 
 
 wings had they." 
 
 Child Gruitsa heard Rado as he sang on the 
 highway. 
 
 He spake to Starina Novak : 
 
 "My father, harken 
 thou, 
 
 For out on the broad highway is some one singing 
 now, 
 
 And speaks of Mount Romaniya and the moun- 
 tain-falcon gray. 
 
 196]
 
 It is like our Uncle Rado. He has gained a treas- 
 ure this day, 
 Or else he has fallen on evil. Let us go to give 
 
 him aid." 
 He seized on his Damascus gun and went to the 
 
 ambuscade 
 On the tsar's highway, and after him young 
 
 Tatomir lightly ran ; 
 And after the children followed Novak the ancient 
 
 man. 
 On the highway in the ambuscade, there Novak 
 
 took his ground; 
 
 And beside him his two children. O'er the moun- 
 tain came a sound, 
 And presently thirty champions before them did 
 
 appear, 
 And every champion carried a hayduk's head on 
 
 his spear. 
 And Mehmed the Moor before him drove the 
 
 bound Rado still, 
 And likewise three loads of treasure on the high 
 
 road over the hill, 
 Till into the ambuscade he marched with the 
 
 squadron of his might. 
 Novak shouted to his children. They fired the 
 
 muskets light; 
 Mehmed the Moor they hit in the belt. He did 
 
 not yell one yell 
 Dead was Mehmed the mighty Moor, ere to the 
 
 ground he fell. 
 The Moor fell there on the green grass. Starina 
 
 Novak sped, 
 
 [197]
 
 And swung his saber in the air, and straight cut off 
 
 his head, 
 And then he rushed to Rado ; from his hand he cut 
 
 the cord 
 And gave him the saber of a Moor. Now glory 
 
 to God the Lord! 
 They made a rush upon the Turks, they cut them 
 
 into bands, 
 And pursued them hither and yonder. Who 
 
 'scaped from Rado's hands 
 Young Tatomir awaited. From him who got 
 
 away, 
 
 Them awaited child Gruitsa in eagerness to slay; 
 And them who 'scaped from Gruitsa old Novak 
 
 waited for. 
 They slew the thirty champions, and spoiled the 
 
 Turks in war; 
 
 They won in that same hour three packs of treas- 
 ure fine. 
 Then sat they down together to drink the yellow 
 
 wine. 
 Said Novak : "Tell me truly, Rado, my brother 
 
 bold, 
 Which is better thirty hayduks, or Starma 
 
 Novak the old?" 
 To him said Rado: "My brother, the thirty 
 
 better were they 
 The good friends ; but thy fortune they had it not 
 
 this day." 
 
 It is ill for the hero who hears not what his elders 
 have to say. 
 
 [198]
 
 THE DEATH OF IVO OF SENYE l 
 
 Ivo's mother dreamed that darkness was risen 
 
 Senye around, 
 That the clear sky was broken and the bright moon 
 
 fell to the ground 
 On Ruzhitsa church in Senye, and the stars fled 
 
 far and wide, 
 And the daystar rose up bloody, and the cuckoo 
 
 to her cried 
 In Senye's midst on the holy roof of Ruzhitsa did 
 
 he perch. 
 
 The woman awoke and took her crutch and has- 
 tened to the church, 
 And told the Archpriest Nedelko what dream was 
 
 come to her, 
 And to her the priest made clear the dream as an 
 
 interpreter : 
 "Hearest thou, mother! Ill hast thou dreamed 
 
 and evil soon will be. 
 
 In that darkness rose round Senye, 'twill be deso- 
 late for thee. 
 In that the sky was broken and the bright moon 
 
 fell to the ground 
 On Ruzhitsa, Ivo will perish ; he hath reached his 
 
 term and bound. 
 In that the stars fled far and wide, will many a 
 
 widow moan. 
 In that bloody rose the daystar, thou wilt be as a 
 
 cuckoo alone. 
 
 i Zengg. 
 
 [199]
 
 In that it sang on the Ruzhitsa, the Turks will 
 
 overthrow 
 Ruzhitsa, and, though old I be, the Turks will lay 
 
 me low." 
 Hardly had he done speaking, when before them 
 
 Ivo stood. 
 The great black steed he rode upon was soaked 
 
 with the dark blood ; 
 He had seventeen wounds ; in his left hand his cleft 
 
 right hand he bore. 
 He drove the black steed onward the great white 
 
 church before. 
 To his mother he spake: "From the black steed 
 
 take me down, mother mine, 
 And wash me with cold water and purify with 
 
 wine." 
 Swift she obeyed: she took him down from the 
 
 steed fierce and fine; 
 She washed him with cold water, and o'er him 
 
 poured the wine. 
 His mother asked him: "What, my son, in Italy 
 
 befell?" 
 Ivo spake: 
 
 "Mother, in Italy all things went 
 
 swift and well; 
 Enough slaves we took, mother, and enough of 
 
 treasure bright; 
 Safe we turned home. When we were at the camp 
 
 of the first night, 
 
 A first pursuit overtook us, black warriors that sped 
 Upon black steeds ; black turbans they wore about 
 
 the head. 
 
 I 200 ]
 
 We fired one volley, mother, we slew them all in 
 
 fight; 
 Of us none perished, mother. At the camp of the 
 
 second night 
 The second pursuit o'ertook us ; the furious heroes 
 
 sped 
 Upon white steeds, white turbans they wore about 
 
 the head. 
 We fired one volley, mother; we slew them all in 
 
 fight. 
 Of us none perished, mother. At the camp of the 
 
 third night 
 The third pursuit o'ertook us ; black cloaks, long 
 
 guns did they bear. 
 We fired a single volley, and began to fight them 
 
 there ; 
 Of them none perished, mother; of us all fell in 
 
 the fray, 
 
 Excepting thy son Ivo, at last that got away. 
 And he is wounded ; in his left hand his right hand 
 
 hath he brought." 
 So Ivo spake, and forthwith with his dear soul he 
 
 fought ; 
 He breathed, and released from prison thereby was 
 
 the spirit light. 
 He died, and his ancient mother O evil was her 
 
 plight ! 
 May God give him a dwelling place in pleasant 
 
 paradise, 
 
 And health to us, my brethren, and merriment like- 
 wise ! 
 
 [201]
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF STOYAN YANKOVICH 
 
 WHILE still men dreamed not of the dawn, the gates 
 
 were opened wide 
 In tldbina, and from the town a squadron forth 
 
 did ride. 
 Four and thirty friends are there; before them is 
 
 Mustay Bey, 
 The lord of Lika ; 1 to Kunor wood he went to 
 
 hunt that day. 
 For half a week he hunted, but nothing came to 
 
 hand; 
 To Udbina and Lika he went homeward through 
 
 the land; 
 When down through the fir forest to a spring he 
 
 turned aside, 
 To drink and rest. He cast his eye 'neath a green 
 
 fir that tide; 
 But when Mustay Bey of Lika came, the twigs of 
 
 the fir tree shone. 
 
 A drunken warrior lay asleep in the fir wood alone ; 
 All in the pure gold was he clad and in the silver 
 
 fine; 
 On his head he wore a splendid cap with silver 
 
 feathers nine, 
 
 And set beside the feathers a great wing silver- 
 wrought ; 
 
 i Lika is a district in Croatia. Mustay Bey is the favorite 
 hero of the Mohammedan Serbs of Bosnia, in whose popular 
 poetry he occupies a place like that of Prince Marko in the 
 ballads of their Orthodox kinsmen. See Murko, "Die 
 Volksepik der bosnischen Mohammedaner," in Zeitschrift 
 des Vereins fur Volkskunde, Berlin, 1909, pp. 13-30. 
 
 [202]
 
 For a thousand ducats and no less the silver wing 
 
 was bought. 
 On his shoulders the hero weareth a mantle great 
 
 and green, 
 And thirty knobs of yellow gold thereon are to be 
 
 seen, 
 Each one of a golden measure; and one 'neath the 
 
 neck is worn, 
 Three measure weight with a screw that opes, and 
 
 brandy that holds in the morn. 
 On the mantle are three golden plates, of the 
 
 weight of four good pound; 
 Two were of twisted goldwork, and one did the 
 
 smelters found. 
 His breeches had golden buckles ; and yellow, rich 
 
 to see, 
 Were his legs as any falcon's from the ankle to the 
 
 knee. 
 From the buckles hung fine golden chains, and 
 
 from them trinkets fair, 
 Such as the slender maidens aye at their sweet 
 
 throats wear. 
 At his splendid belt were pistols of the Damascus 
 
 gold, 
 Silver-inlaid was the great blade, with three gold 
 
 hilts to hold ; 
 In them are set three precious stones ; it is worth 
 
 three towns of the tsar. 
 On his breast was a musket, and golden the thirty 
 
 hoops of it are, 
 
 And each hoop worth ten ducats, and thirty, one 
 by the sight; 
 
 [203]
 
 There was more of gold on the musket than of 
 
 steel hammered and bright. 
 When the hero rose upward from the grass, the 
 
 fir twigs crackled then, 
 But the Bey of Lika pinned him down with his 
 
 four and thirty men. 
 When the hero looked up from the grass with a 
 
 black and lowering eye, 
 He saw that the Turks had pinned him down, and 
 
 his weapons were not by. 
 One of his foes with his great arms he gripped as 
 
 with a girth; 
 The living heart was burst in the Turk as he 
 
 hurled him to the earth; 
 And seven others, moreover, he slaughtered of the 
 
 band, 
 Before the Turks could master the strength of the 
 
 white hand. 
 But they captured him, and forthwith the white 
 
 hand did they bind, 
 And drove him to white Udbina with his weapons 
 
 tied behind, 
 That great and small might marvel how Mustay, 
 
 of Lika the Bey, 
 Such a warrior with his weapons had taken in the 
 
 fray. 
 And Mustay spake to him as through the open 
 
 field they came: 
 
 "God's love! Whence comest thou, lord un- 
 known? What do men call thy name? 
 Whither wast thou going, and whither have thy 
 
 comrades gone away?" 
 [ 204 ]
 
 Saith he : 
 
 "What sayst thou, Mustay, of Lika 
 
 that art Bey? 
 Hast thou heard of the Latin seacoast, and Ko- 
 
 tari l set thereon, 
 And of Stoyan, the son of Yanko? I am Stoyan, 
 
 Yanko's son, 
 And I had no other comrade than God and myself 
 
 alone ; 
 And I had taken counsel to descend beneath thy 
 
 tower, 
 And the slender maiden, Haykuna, to lure her in 
 
 that hour, 
 
 And take her to Kotari but it was not God's de- 
 cree; 
 
 The thrice accursed liquor it overmastered me!" 
 Said Mustay, the Bey of Lika: "Stoyan, well 
 
 mayst thou speed ! 
 Thou hast fallen into a hero's hands who will find 
 
 thee a wife indeed!" 
 Amid their speech to Udbina at last they made 
 
 their way, 
 Beneath the tower of Mustay, of Lika that was 
 
 Bey; 
 And great and small came out to gaze on the 
 
 squadron in that hour, 
 And Haykuna, Mustay's sister dear, looked down 
 
 from the slender tower. 
 At the tambour frame of coral a needle of glass 
 
 doth she hold, 
 1 Not Cattaro, but a town in northern Dalmatia. 
 
 [205]
 
 And she weaveth through the linen white a gallant 
 
 thread of gold. 
 And when she saw the squadron forth from the 
 
 forest come, 
 That led a fettered hero with his shining weapons 
 
 home, 
 The tambour frame before her with her hand she 
 
 thrust away 
 Two of its legs were shattered and to herself did 
 
 she say: 
 "Dear God, a mighty marvel, a hero in evil 
 
 stead! 
 By what guile did they bind him, for he is not 
 
 wounded nor dead?" 
 
 But when she reckoned the squadron, were lack- 
 ing seven men. 
 When the squadron came 'neath the white tower, 
 
 she took his weapons then, 
 And bore away his weapons in the treasury to 
 
 keep. 
 Stoyan they cast in a prison that was fifty fathom 
 
 deep; 
 Therein to the knees of the hero the water doth 
 
 arise, 
 And the bones of captive Christians to his shoulder 
 
 reach likewise. 
 The bey went unto the new inn, with his men the 
 
 wine to drain, 
 
 And to boast to the Turks of tldbina what a cap- 
 tive he had ta'en. 
 The fair maid went to the dungeon door with a 
 
 bucket of wine that tide; 
 [206]
 
 She lowered it with a strong cord, and unto the 
 
 hero cried : 
 "O hero, God protect thee, nor slay thee here 
 
 in shame! 
 Whence art thou? what is thy country? what dost 
 
 thou call thy name? 
 How did the Turks deceive thee, when thine arms 
 
 behind they tied?" 
 Stoyan drank of the yellow wine, and to the 
 
 damsel cried: 
 "Who calls from the white dungeon? My throat 
 
 hath drunken full. 
 With the windlass half way up the hold the hero 
 
 shalt thou pull; 
 From thence will I tell the story." 
 
 The maiden 
 harkened thereto; 
 The rope with hooks of steel let down, and half 
 
 way up she drew 
 Stoyan the son of Yanko. He questioned her and 
 
 said: 
 
 "Who calls from the white dungeon?" Then ap- 
 peared the Turkish maid: 
 
 "Even I, unknown hero, the sister of Mustay Bey." 
 Stoyan answered: 
 
 "O Haykuna. may God in 
 heaven thee slay ! 
 
 I am Stoyan the son of Yanko, and in prison be- 
 cause of thee. 
 The Turks beguiled me when I was drunk, and 
 
 bound have they taken me." 
 The Turkish maid spake to him : 
 [207]
 
 "O Stoyan, of 
 
 Yanko born, 
 Fain would the Turks destroy thee. They will 
 
 question thee tomorn 
 Whether to be a Moslem thy faith thou wilt put 
 
 aside. 
 Become a Moslem, Stoyan; and I will be thy 
 
 bride. 
 My brother, the Bey of Lika, two treasure towers 
 
 hath he, 
 One his, one mine ; if he dieth first, mine and thine 
 
 shall they be." 
 Spake Stoyan: 
 
 "Thou damsel, Haykuna, no 
 
 more like a mad girl rave! 
 
 Though Udbina and Lika into my hand they gave, 
 By God I would not turn Moslem ! In Kotari my 
 
 treasure lay, 
 More than the Turks', and a hero better am I than 
 
 they. 
 If God it grant, fair damsel, before the noon hour 
 
 ring, 
 
 The captains of Kotari over Udbina shall spring, 
 Over and roundabout it, and hence shall they 
 
 rescue me." 
 Said the maid: 
 
 "Speak not like a madman ; ere 
 
 that they will slaughter thee. 
 But to take me to be thy wedded wife, firm will thy 
 
 faith remain, 
 If I free thee out of the dungeon?" 
 
 [208]
 
 And Stoyan 
 
 answered again: 
 "Firm is my faith, fair damsel, I will take thee 
 
 before all; 
 
 Verily on mine honor I will not deceive thee at all." 
 When the damsel heard, in the prison she low- 
 ered him in that hour, 
 And she wended her own way forthwith unto the 
 
 slender tower. 
 A little time went after this; from the inn came 
 
 forth the bey, 
 And the maiden staggered before him, as a fit were 
 
 on her that day. 
 Mustay the Bey asked of her : "What aileth thee, 
 
 sister dear?" 
 She said: 
 
 "A pain of the head and the heart is 
 
 fallen upon me here ; 
 A chill is come upon me ; 'twere better, brother, to 
 
 die. 
 But seat thee on the soft cushions, that I on thy 
 
 breast may lie, 
 
 And there at last surrender my spirit in its sin." 
 Mustay the Bey was sorry, for he had no other 
 
 kin, 
 And over his white features the bitter tears he 
 
 shed. 
 He sat upon the cushions, on his bosom she drooped 
 
 her head ; 
 One hand she laid on his bosom, with the other did 
 
 she seize 
 
 [209]
 
 In her dear brother's pocket the stable and prison 
 
 keys, 
 And the key of the treasure likewise. Then tossed 
 
 she where she lay 
 On the cushion, and to his sister made question 
 
 Mustay the Bey : 
 "Has not God granted thee, sister, that the pain 
 
 should pass away?" 
 "Brother, he has, may God be thanked!" And he 
 
 went to the roof outside, 
 To counsel with them of Udbina how Stoyan should 
 
 die that tide. 
 But the maiden leaped to her feet, and wide the 
 
 treasury door she threw; 
 
 And saddlebags of ducats and Stoyan's armor, too, 
 She gathered in that hour from the dungeon white 
 
 and cold. 
 She let out Stoyan, and led him from the cellars of 
 
 the hold; 
 And released the steeds from the stables : the good 
 
 white steed of the bey, 
 
 That ever more he rode upon in the heroic fray, 
 And the black steed of his lady; swifter is none 
 
 in the land. 
 The damsel mounted the white, but the black is 
 
 under Stoyan's hand, 
 And forthwith over the broad field swiftly they got 
 
 them gone 
 Over Ogoryelitsa, and from Kunor the wood, and 
 
 on 
 From Kunor to Kotari. Then the son of Yanko 
 
 said: 
 
 [210]
 
 "Grievously am I weary, O Haykuna the maid! 
 Dismount from the white charger; of sleep I have 
 
 sore need." 
 But she said : 
 
 "By thy courage, Stoyan ! Drive 
 
 forward the black steed 
 
 On unto flat Kotari ; sleep cometh with little aid. 
 But for some squadron of the Turks yet am I sore 
 
 afraid !" 
 But he harkened not. From the horses they 
 
 descended on the grass; 
 With his head on her bosom Stoyan slept ; like a 
 
 foolish lamb he was. 
 But the maiden cannot slumber. Before the white 
 
 day's hour 
 The bey's wife rose to visit the girl in the slender 
 
 tower. 
 
 Very sick was the damsel, when darkness fell yes- 
 treen, 
 But now in the slender tower no more the girl is 
 
 seen; 
 And the money from the treasury is gathered up 
 
 and gone, 
 And no longer in the dungeon lieth Stoyan, 
 
 Yanko's son. 
 Forthwith came back the woman into the slender 
 
 tower ; 
 She fired the great alarum gun suddenly in that 
 
 hour. 
 On the green roof the bey heard it ; what was come 
 
 to pass he knew, 
 
 [211]
 
 And swiftly with his fingers he searched his pockets 
 
 through, 
 And found that from his pockets the keys were 
 
 stolen away. 
 "My brothers, men of Udbina !" then shouted 
 
 Mustay Bey, 
 "Stoyan, the son of Yanko, with the maid is fled 
 
 abroad. 
 Up on your feet, my brethren, as ye believe in 
 
 God!" 
 Strange is the Turkish use. Their steeds were 
 
 ready saddled there; 
 They seized their steeds and over the wide field 
 
 did they fare. 
 They reached the Kunor wood, and through the 
 
 forest did they pass 
 Unto Kotari. Haykuna looked up from the green 
 
 grass ; 
 Often she looked to Kunor. A crest rose far 
 
 away, 
 The dust of horses and heroes, and she knew her 
 
 brother, the bey, 
 And the thirty men of Udbina. Stoyan she dares 
 
 not wake, 
 But above the face of Stoyan she weepeth for his 
 
 sake. 
 When Stoyan started from slumber, he bespake 
 
 her in this wise: 
 "What ails thee, Turkish damsel, that the tears 
 
 run from thine eyes? 
 Dost thou weep for thy brother, Mustay Bey, 
 
 and his great treasury? 
 [212]
 
 Or haply is it that Stoyan no longer pleases thee ?" 
 Quoth the maiden: 
 
 "Sorrow-stricken may thy 
 
 mother be this tide ! 
 I weep not for my brother nor the treasure of his 
 
 pride. 
 We have brought the treasure with us, in the midst 
 
 of my heart art thou; 
 But the bey with the thirty of Udbina is hard upon 
 
 us now. 
 Ride the black to Kotari ; our lives are thrown 
 
 away !" 
 When Stoyan heard the damsel, unto her did he 
 
 say: 
 "By God, I will not, maiden ! They have stirred 
 
 my anger up; 
 They pinned me down on the grass when I had 
 
 drunken of the cup. 
 Now will I make exchange of gifts with thy brother, 
 
 dear indeed! 
 Do thou ride the black charger, and give me the 
 
 white steed; 
 The white is a little better, when I go thy brother 
 
 to meet." 
 Stoyan leapt on the good white steed ; the black 
 
 she mounted fleet, 
 And galloped to white Kotari ; but Stoyan against 
 
 the bey. 
 And it were worth the trouble, to sit and watch 
 
 the fray, 
 And behold a mighty marvel, how thirty smote at 
 
 one:
 
 The palace that sent thirty forth waits the return 
 
 of none. 
 Stoyan smote off the thirty heads, and he seized 
 
 on Mustay Bey; 
 Hands bound behind, he drove him to where the 
 
 damsel lay. 
 He spake to the damsel as he drew the silver- 
 
 hilted blade: 
 "Thus, Haykuna, 'twixt brothers exchange of gifts 
 
 is made!" 
 He swung the silver-hilted sword, but she threw 
 
 her arms on high: 
 "By thy courage, leave a sister a brother for 
 
 swearing by ! 
 For thee also a sister might weep, and be full of 
 
 woe. 
 Turn him now back to Udbina, and give him leave 
 
 to go." 
 Stoyan turned back the saber; tighter he bound 
 
 the bey, 
 And set his face toward Udbina, and unto him did 
 
 say: 
 "When thou comest unto Udbina, to drink with 
 
 the men thereby, 
 Tell thou the whole truth to them, nor ever speak 
 
 a He; 
 And here will I grant thy life to thee in the fierce 
 
 single fray." 
 Forth in his bonds to Udbina alone went back 
 
 the bey;
 
 But to flat Kotari Stoyan the Turkish damsel 
 
 takes, 
 And his christened wife he kisses whensoever he 
 
 awakes. 
 
 [215]
 
 THE CAPTIVITY OF STOYAN YANKOVICH 
 
 WHEN the Turks took Kotari, great havoc did 
 
 they make 
 With the house of Yankovich. Iliya Smflyanich 
 
 did they take 
 And likewise Stoyan Yankovich ; bereft was Iliya's 
 
 bride 
 Of fifteen days ; ungently from his wife's youthful 
 
 side 
 Was Stoyan taken also, ere a week they had been 
 
 wed. 
 The Turks to Stamboul city captive the husbands 
 
 led. 
 To the tsar whom all men honor, with the prisoners 
 
 of their spears 
 Came the Turks ; and the two were holden for the 
 
 space of nine long years 
 And seven months. And Moslems the tsar hath 
 
 made them there, 
 And likewise built them houses beside his palace 
 
 fair. 
 
 Spake Iliya Smflyanich: "Stoyan, dear broth- 
 er," did he say, 
 
 "To-morrow will be Friday, the Turkish holiday ; 
 The tsaritsa walks with the Turkish dames and 
 
 the tsar with the Turks at heel. 
 Do thou steal the key of the treasury, and the 
 
 stable key will I steal; 
 Let us gather the guardless treasure and take two 
 
 steeds amain, 
 And run to level Kotari and see our wives again, 
 
 [216]
 
 That never enemy caressed nor foeman carried 
 
 away." 
 They harkened each other. On the morn of the 
 
 Turkish holiday 
 The tsaritsa walked with the Turkish dames and 
 
 the tsar with the Turks at heel. 
 One stole the treasury key, and one did the key 
 
 of the stable steal; 
 They took much treasure and two good steeds, 
 
 and to flat Kotari fled. 
 When they were near Kotari, Stoyan Yankovich 
 
 said: 
 "O Iliya, my dear brother, unto the white house 
 
 go; 
 
 And I will unto the vineyard that mine own hand 
 
 did sow, 
 That I may look on the vineyard, to see who binds 
 
 the vine 
 And prunes it in whose possession the place has 
 
 gone from mine." 
 To the white house went fliya, to the vineyard 
 
 Stoyan came ; 
 In the vineyard he found his mother, the weary and 
 
 ancient dame. 
 And standing in the vineyard she cut the strands 
 
 of her hair, 
 And with them to the stanchions she bound the 
 
 grapevines there, 
 And with tears she watered the vine sprouts and 
 
 the tendrils where they twined, 
 And ever her own son Stoyan was present in her 
 
 mind: 
 
 217]
 
 "Stoyan, my golden apple, is forgot of his 
 
 mother old ; 
 
 But I will remember Yela his wife, fair as the un- 
 worn gold!" 
 Stoyan in God's name greeted her : "Old dame, 
 
 whom God defend ! 
 Hast thou none younger than thyself for thee the 
 
 vines to tend? 
 Thou totterest wretched and feeble." But bravely 
 
 she replied: 
 "Live well, thou unknown champion, and all 
 
 good thee betide ! 
 I have none younger save Stoyan, sole son of my 
 
 desire. 
 The Turks took him with fliya, the nephew of his 
 
 sire; 
 
 And in that bitter hour bereft was fliya's bride 
 Of fifteen days ; ungently from his wife's youthful 
 
 side 
 Was Stoyan taken also, ere a week they had been 
 
 wed. 
 My daughter of Adam waited until nine years 
 
 were sped, 
 
 And seven months of the tenth year; she weds an- 
 other to-day. 
 And I I could not endure it; to the vineyard I 
 
 ran away 1" 
 When Stoyan understood it, he went to the white 
 
 house, 
 And well the wooers welcomed him with revel and 
 
 carouse. 
 
 [218]
 
 He went from the steed to table, his thirst with 
 
 wine to slake; 
 When he had drunk his fill of it, softly to them 
 
 he spake: 
 "My brothers, gay-clad wooers, to sing is it 
 
 granted me?" 
 Said the wooers: "It is, thou hero unknown; 
 
 wherefore should it not be?" 
 Then Stoyan sang unto them in a high voice and a 
 
 clear: 
 "A swallow plaited her fair nest ; she plaited her 
 
 nest nine year; 
 To-morrow will she unplait it. But there flew to 
 
 her from afar 
 A mighty falcon green and gray, from the city of 
 
 the tsar; 
 And the mighty falcon green and gray lets her not 
 
 unplait the nest." 
 
 In all this to the wooers was nothing manifest, 
 But the inward of the matter the wife of Stoyan 
 
 spied. 
 Thereupon she departed from the bringer of the 
 
 bride; 
 She went to the lookout place and spoke to Sto- 
 
 yan's sister dear: 
 "Sister-in-law, my sister, thy brother my lord is 
 
 here !" 
 When the sister of Stoyan heard it, she ran from 
 
 the lookout place ; 
 Thrice she looked round the table, till she saw her 
 
 brother's face. 
 
 [219]
 
 When she saw the face of her brother, wide then 
 
 their arms they spread; 
 They kissed each other on the face, and the sweet 
 
 tears they shed; 
 One washes the cheeks of the other with the tears 
 
 of their desire. 
 But the gay-clad wooers said : "Stoyan, what get 
 
 we for our hire? 
 For we spent a deal of money ere we won thy 
 
 wife to wed." 
 "Stand aside, gay-clad wooers," Stoyan Yanko- 
 
 vich said, 
 "Until I have gazed on my sister! We will look 
 
 to your money then ; 
 
 Easily shall we pay it, if we in truth be men." 
 When he had gazed on her, gifts he gave unto 
 
 the wooers there ; 
 
 A kerchief to one, to another a shirt of linen fair ; 
 To the bridegroom he gave his sister: and the 
 
 wooers went their way. 
 Wailing came home the mother at the ending of 
 
 the day, 
 
 Wailing even as a cuckoo the hawthorn leaves be- 
 hind, 
 
 And ever her son Stoyan was present in her mind: 
 "Stoyan, my golden apple, is forgot of his 
 
 mother old; 
 But I will remember Yela his wife, fair as the 
 
 unworn gold ! 
 Who will wait for the ancient mother? Who will 
 
 come forth for me, 
 
 [220]
 
 And say to the weary woman, 'Hath thy toil 
 
 wearied thee?' ' 
 When the wife of Stoyan heard it, before the 
 
 house she sped; 
 She took her mother in her sweet arms, and to the 
 
 dame she said: 
 "Wail not, O ancient mother! On thee has the 
 
 warm sun shone, 
 For returned unto thy bosom is Stoyan, thy only 
 
 son." 
 She looked on her son Stoyan, and dead on the 
 
 earth she fell. 
 
 And Stoyan buried his mother most royally and 
 well. 
 
 [221]
 
 A MONTENEGRIN BALLAD
 
 THE WAR OF THE MONTENEGRINS 
 WITH MAHMUD PASHA * 
 
 VIZIER MAHMUD on Boyana in Scutari the white 
 Hath gathered his viziers and the captains of his 
 
 might, 
 Picked Turkish chiefs. When they were come, 
 
 he spake unto them then : 
 "Here is a chance for us at last, my gallant 
 
 fighting men, 
 
 i "I am confident that both ballads [of which the present 
 is onej on the war of the Montenegrins with Mahmud Pasha 
 were composed by the Prince-Bishop of Montenegro, Petar 1 
 (now canonized as St. Petar), and that later they became 
 current among the people, and, passing from mouth to 
 mouth, were assimilated to the folk ballads." (Note by 
 Karajich.) 
 
 Mr. William Miller gives the following account of the 
 events treated in this ballad: 
 
 "The people of Trebinje in the Herzegovina, long noted 
 for their independence and intolerance of Turkish rule, had 
 been driven from their homes by the ravages of the Turks, 
 and sought shelter among the Berda [Brida]. The four 
 nahie of that mountainous district, which had been virtually 
 united to Montenegro under Danilo I, were now formally 
 combined with it into one state. . . . This important acces- 
 sion of territory did not fail to arouse the jealousy of the 
 Turks. Kara Mahmoud resolved to prevent the union, and 
 entered Montenegro at the point where the river Zeta sepa- 
 rates it from the Berda. But his efforts were in vain. 
 After a sanguinary engagement near the fortress of Spuzh, 
 the pasha retired wounded from the field, and a subsequent 
 expedition cost him his life. The vladika [prince-bishop], 
 posting one half of his forces in one of those mountainous 
 defiles which are so common in his country, and leaving 
 a number of red Montenegrin caps upon the rocks to delude 
 the Turks into the idea that his whole army was in front, 
 surprised them with the other half in the rear. Taken un- 
 awares between the two fires, the invaders fell by hundreds; 
 
 [225]
 
 To win the great Black Mountain and the flat 
 coast of the sea 
 
 That we have long desired. Some friends of mine 
 there be, 
 
 Black Mountaineers that I will bribe; their coun- 
 try they will sell, 
 
 And I will do thereafter whatever seemeth well. 
 
 But the men of Brida have closed the roads, and 
 there my wound is found, 
 
 And I cannot gather an army all Bosnia around, 
 
 Or in Herzegovina either or the Albanian bound. 
 
 Let us stir up Albania, that our fiery winds may 
 fall 
 
 On the Piperi and also on the Children of White 
 Paul. 1 
 
 Let us burn everything with fire and capture great 
 and small, 
 
 Till we come to Nikshich, brethren ; there our pa- 
 vilion white 
 
 Kara Mahmoud was slain, and when Sir Gardner Wilkin- 
 son visited Cetinje [Tsetinye], fifty years later, he found 
 the pasha's skull still stuck, as a grim trophy of victory, on 
 the battlements of the famous 'Turks' Tower.' The effects 
 of the Turkish defeat were lasting; the union of the Monte- 
 negro and the Berda was secure; the hereditary foes of the 
 Black Mountain ceased for many years from troubling. . . . 
 The sultan no longer demanded tribute from a nation which 
 knew so well how to defend itself. By a curious coinci- 
 dence, the victory took place exactly one hundred years after 
 the selection of Danilo I as prince-bishop [i. e., in 1796]." 
 The Balkans, New York, 1896, pp. 410, 411. 
 
 1 The Bycl6pavlichi rebel against English meter as stoutly 
 as they once resisted Turkish oppression; hence their name 
 is translated in the text instead of transcribed. 
 
 [ 226 ]
 
 We will pitch, and we will gather the army of our 
 might 
 
 From the land of Herzegovina and from the coun- 
 try round, 
 
 And from the land of Bosnia and the Albanian 
 bound. 
 
 We will divide the host in three, and one of those 
 three powers 
 
 We will send unto white Novi that in ancient time 
 was ours ; 
 
 When we come to Ragusa we will choose a viceroy 
 of the tsar, 
 
 Ibrahim my brother for pasha, that the wonder be 
 heard afar. 
 
 The second host shall travel by the fords along 
 the sea, 
 
 With food and shell and powder and the artillery, 
 
 That they may fight, nor to parley of any peace 
 delay. 
 
 There is not left a single youth about Cattaro Bay ; 
 
 They are gone to Italy, Venice from the French- 
 men to defend. 
 
 And over the Black Mountain must the third army 
 wend, 
 
 To win the great Black Mountain and the flat coast 
 of the sea, 
 
 That by the coast we may water our horses easily, 
 
 Till we are come to Cattaro. When at the town 
 we are, 
 
 There, friends, my nephew Mehmed shall be vice- 
 roy of the tsar; 
 
 [227]
 
 A lord and pasha shall he be that the Latins 
 
 thereof may know. 
 It is my very strong desire that thus should the 
 
 matter go." 
 So Mahmud spake, and nimbly to his feet sprang 
 
 the vizier; 
 Quickly he seized a writing-set and wrote a letter 
 
 clear : 
 To Petar the Bishop * in Tsetinye the letter doth 
 
 he send: 
 "Prince-Bishop of Montenegro, if thou still wilt 
 
 be my friend, 
 
 The champions of Brida in no way shalt thou re- 
 lieve, 
 
 Nor in little Montenegro their families receive ; 
 For now in my displeasure the fiery winds shall fall 
 On the Piperi and also on the Children of White 
 
 Paul. 
 I shall burn everything with fire and capture great 
 
 and small, 
 
 And either I shall perish or drive out utterly 
 The men of Brida to Ostrog the mount. And 
 
 harken yet to me ! 
 Prince-Bishop of Montenegro, if thou shalt them 
 
 relieve ; 
 If in Montenegro their families haply thou shalt 
 
 receive, 
 
 Into my own Albania will I betake me then, 
 So that thou shalt not be able to give aid unto the 
 
 men." 
 
 i Petar I, who ruled 1782-1830, and to whom Karajich 
 attributes the composition of this ballad. 
 [228 ]
 
 The Turk said not, "If God permit" ; he trusted 
 
 in his might ; 
 God only giveth strength, and he will aid no Turk 
 
 in fight. 
 When the letter reached the bishop, he looked 
 
 thereon and read; 
 And when he knew its import, the bitter tears he 
 
 shed. 
 The chiefs of the Black Mountain, the chosen of 
 
 the land, 
 The heroes of Tsetinye by chance were ready to 
 
 his hand. 
 Said the bishop: 
 
 "Ye Black Mountain men, 
 
 hath come a letter here, 
 From Mahmud, my dear brethren, the terrible 
 
 vizier. 
 He hath boasted he will scatter all Brida hither 
 
 and yon 
 To Mount Ostrog. Our Black Mountain youth, 
 
 with bribes they shall be won; 
 They will take the bribe of Mahmud, and be con- 
 quered by his fee, 
 And sell him the Black Mountain and the flat coast 
 
 of the sea 
 Unto Ragusa. His will will he do ! But ye, dear 
 
 brothers, know 
 How the cursed Turks reproach the Serbs because 
 
 of Kosovo, 
 The woful fray; Vuk Brankovich betrayed the 
 
 nation there: 
 
 [229]
 
 May he know eternal torment for his treason ev- 
 erywhere ! 
 Are any wounds more terrible or deadlier found 
 
 than when 
 An arrow out of heaven strikes down a king of 
 
 men? 
 
 There is not any arrow or any flying dart 
 Like unto such reproach and shame, to tear a hero's 
 
 heart. 
 Your fathers fought their battles for faith and 
 
 freedom's sake, 
 That never Turkish overlords should them for 
 
 bondmen take. 
 With men it were reproach and shame, and with 
 
 God a mighty sin, 
 To forsake the men of Brida, that are our nearest 
 
 kin; 
 But, brethren, as you trust in God, to the Children 
 
 of Paul the White 
 Let us go ; the heroes of Brida we will succor in 
 
 the fight. 
 Had not the Turks made themselves strong, when 
 
 here before they came, 
 Scatheless the church of Tsetinye they had not 
 
 burned with flame, 
 Nor without a wound have ruined our monasteries 
 
 fair; 
 They had not known Koshchelitsa, 1 nor would thus 
 
 our entrails tear." 2 
 
 1 The name of a mountain in Montenegro. 
 
 2 "He [Petar I] had scarcely returned from the ceremony 
 of consecration [in 1782] at the hands of the Serb patriarch, 
 
 [230]
 
 When the Black Mountain youth had heard, to 
 
 the bishop then swore they, 
 That the champions of Brida they never would 
 
 betray, 
 But along with them would perish. When the 
 
 bishop had seen the sight 
 Of their good will and freedom, a letter did he 
 
 write 
 All in the fine-penned character; to Mahmud he 
 
 sent it on: 
 "Mahmud Vizier! in Brida let the fatherless 
 
 alone ! 
 Tear not the fierce wounds, pasha, that thy strong 
 
 right hand gave! 
 God will soon grant them, haply, that a vengeance 
 
 they will have. 
 And if thou grewest strong, pasha, when here thine 
 
 army came, 
 When scatheless the church of Tsetinye thou 
 
 burnedst with the flame, 
 And without a wound couldst ruin our monasteries 
 
 white 
 When thou burnedst the church, then all our youth 
 
 in their live hearts didst thou smite. 
 As for burning our monasteries, sore didst thou 
 
 wound us there, 
 And through knowing Koshchelitsa our entrails 
 
 dost thou tear." 
 
 . . . when he was compelled to face a Turkish invasion. 
 Kara Mahmoud, Pasha of Scutari, and a descendant of the 
 renegade Montenegrin Prince Stanicha, was ravaging the 
 Black Mountain, and set fire to the monastery at Cetinje, as 
 his predecessors had done." Miller, op. cit., pp. 408, 409. 
 
 [231]
 
 When that the bishop's letter to the vizier was 
 
 brought, 
 And he knew thereof the purport, he gave it not a 
 
 thought, 
 But he stirred up all Albania and to level Dolyani 
 
 went; 
 O'er Podgoritsa in Zlatitsa the vizier pitched his 
 
 tent, 
 And far and wide on every side his camp abroad 
 
 he spread. 
 And the rumor ran to the bishop. Then forth the 
 
 bishop sped 
 
 To the green Mount Vritiyelka, and fired the can- 
 non of war, 
 And gathered somewhat of the host from Tsetinye 
 
 and afar. 
 Then over the Black Mountain he marched with one 
 
 and all, 
 Till he was come to the houses of the Children of 
 
 White Paul; 
 In the fair house of Boshkovich the bishop spent 
 
 the night. 
 And when upon the morrow the dawn brake fair 
 
 and bright, 
 They crossed cold Zeta and they came where Sla- 
 
 tina water ran, 
 Before the church of the Leeches, Cosmas and 
 
 Damian ; 
 And there the bishop made his camp, and there the 
 
 tents were pight. 
 And Mahmud saw it, and nearer drew from 
 
 Spuzh the city white ; 
 [232]
 
 Over Spuzh, against Derdemezi, under the moun- 
 tain green, 
 There Vizier Mahmud made his camp, and there 
 
 his tents were seen. 
 When the Bishop of Tsetinye saw it, then letters 
 
 fine he penned; 
 To the chiefs of the Black Mountain the letters 
 
 did he send. 
 But when the letters had crossed the hills and to 
 
 the chiefs had come, 
 And the captains knew their purport, they left 
 
 their wives at home ; 
 The shepherds left their flocks of sheep in the 
 
 upper grazing land, 
 And up they took the knapsack and the musket in 
 
 the hand; 
 They went o'er the Black Mountain ; in haste went 
 
 every man, 
 Asking of the prince. They found him where S1&- 
 
 tina water ran, 
 Before the church of the Leeches, Cosmas and 
 
 Damian. 
 There at the church was gathered a fierce and 
 
 stalwart host ; 
 With the bishop scarce an army, fifteen hundred at 
 
 the most, 
 But indeed of the little army that by the bishop 
 
 stood, 
 All the soldiers in it were black wolves of the 
 
 wood; 
 The generals of the army, winged eagles were they ; 
 
 [233]
 
 And the young ensigns along the lines were even 
 
 as falcons gray. 
 And Mahmud sent his herald his army through 
 
 that said: 
 "Who leads the bishop to me alive or brings me 
 
 the bishop's head, 
 To him shall be given forthwith all Zeta's level 
 
 land, 
 And three white cities in Zeta, and three packs of 
 
 gold in hand." 
 Yakup Aga Serdarevich and Mehmed Kokotliya 
 
 said 
 Boastingly they would take him alive or bring the 
 
 bishop's head. 
 But the Turks said not, "If God permit"; they 
 
 trusted in their might ; 
 God only giveth strength, and he will aid no Turk 
 
 in fight. 
 For three weeks stood the armies ; drew near the 
 
 time and the day; 
 They yearned for fight on Thursday they got 
 
 ready for the fray; 
 The Turks will strike on Friday. But the bishop, 
 
 the prudent man, 
 Before the church of the Leeches, Cosmas and 
 
 Damian, 
 Gathered his host, and gave them the blessing of 
 
 God thereby, 
 And commended all the army to the care of the 
 
 most high, 
 
 That God for a great captain might with the van- 
 guard go, 
 
 [234,]
 
 And swiftly all the armies of the Turk might over- 
 throw. 
 And when on Friday morning the fair dawn clearly 
 
 shone, 
 Then against the Montenegrins the Turks rushed 
 
 fiercely on. 
 
 The armies charged on the battlefield till the mid- 
 dle of the day, 
 But by noon the Turks had turned their backs and 
 
 begun to run away. 
 It was worth the while of any man a bit thereby 
 
 to stand, 
 And watch Mahmud, the great vizier, flee fast 
 
 across the land; 
 Hardly about the heavy lout once dared to turn 
 
 his head, 
 Till to Spuzh, the milk-white city, in his terror he 
 
 had fled, 
 And to gay-decked Martiniche. Of the Turks 
 
 there died the flower, 
 Of all of their foot soldiers and champions in that 
 
 hour, 
 And pashas and silfktars, and heralds quick that 
 
 ran, 
 And the agas and spahis, the remnant of Ushchup 
 
 and Albasan, 
 And likewise from Alesso and Durazzo on the 
 
 coast, 
 From Kavay and from Oblom the heroes of their 
 
 boast, 
 From Tiran and from Dibran, the chosen of the 
 
 town, 
 
 [235]
 
 From Prizrend and from Vuchitrin, their best that 
 
 had sent down ; 
 
 Syenitsa, Mitrovitsa their foremost had sent there, 
 And the three good friends died with them; they 
 
 fair, 
 
 Oraovats and Ocha, Pech and As supplied the war, 
 And Gusinye and Vutsinye, and the white town of 
 
 Bar; 
 And the men of Lyeshkopolye, the heroes of great 
 
 fame, 
 
 And the chiefs of Spuzh the bloody, and the cham- 
 pions that came 
 From gay-decked Podgoritsa to Vizier Mahmud's 
 
 side, 
 Were dead with the lords of Scutari. Mehmed 
 
 Kokotliya died, 
 Likewise Yakup Serdarevich, who boastingly had 
 
 said 
 That they would take the bishop alive, or else would 
 
 bring his head. 
 All of the vizier's army was slaughtered there and 
 
 then, 
 But of the bishop's army there fell but eighteen 
 
 men. 
 And many champions were come from Jakovitsa 
 
 were a trusty three : 
 Kritsun Savo was one of them, from Byelitsa was 
 
 he; 
 And Stanko of Lyub6tin, ensigns worth standing 
 
 by; 
 And Bego Voyvodicha their honor will not die ! 
 
 [236]
 
 God gave them habitations in the peace of para- 
 dise, 
 
 But to the rest he giveth health and merriment like- 
 wise. 
 
 [237J
 
 BALLADS WITHOUT HISTORICAL 
 FOUNDATION
 
 PREDRAG AND NENAD 
 
 A MOTHER reared two tender sons, in a hungry 
 
 time and year, 
 At her left and right. And Predrag, that is to 
 
 say, "Most Dear," 
 
 She named the first with a fair name ; also the sec- 
 ond son 
 Nenad she named, that is to say, "the Sudden, 
 
 Unlooked-for one." 
 Predrag grew strong to wield the spear and the 
 
 steed to ride upon: 
 He ran away from his mother; unto the wood he 
 
 sped, 
 To the hayduks and the outlaws. Nenad his 
 
 mother bred; 
 
 Nenad forgot his brother, nor pondered him upon. 
 Nenad grew strong to wield the spear and the 
 
 steed to ride upon: 
 He ran away from his mother; unto the wood he 
 
 sped, 
 To the hayduks and the outlaws. Three years 
 
 that life he led. 
 He was a hero fortunate and lucky amid the 
 
 spears ; 
 His comrades made him their captain ; he was their 
 
 chief three years. 
 But woe was him for his mother; to his comrades 
 
 all he spake: 
 "Comrades," said he, "now woe is me for my 
 
 dear mother's sake ! 
 
 [241]
 
 Let us divide our treasures and go to our mothers 
 
 dear." 
 Gladly his comrades thereunto harkened and 
 
 gave an ear. 
 When they took out their treasures, each man a 
 
 great oath sware, 
 For one sware by his brother and one by his sister 
 
 fair. 
 But when Nenad took his treasure, he spake to his 
 
 comrades by: 
 "Comrades, my brothers, brother nor sister at 
 
 all have I; 
 But so may the one God hear me! may this 
 
 arm be withered and lean, 
 
 May the mane of the stallion fall, may rust de- 
 vour the saber keen, 
 If any of the treasure I have kept from other 
 
 men!" 
 When they had divided the treasure, he mounted 
 
 his charger then, 
 The little and the nimble; to his mother forth he 
 
 went, 
 And well did she receive him, and they feasted in 
 
 content. 
 When they sat down at dinner, said Nenad to the 
 
 dame: 
 "My gentle mother, surely before all men is it 
 
 shame ! 
 I would say thou wert not my mother, 'fore God 
 
 were it not a sin. 
 Why didst thou bear me no brother, or sister of 
 
 my kin? 
 
 [242]
 
 When my comrades divided the treasure, each man 
 
 among them sware 
 
 A great oath, by his brother or by his sister fair; 
 But, mother, by myself I sware, and my weapons 
 
 fair to see, 
 And also in that hour by the good horse under 
 
 me." 
 "Speak not foolishly, Nenad!" his mother 
 
 laughed in his face ; 
 "A brother indeed, and one 'Most Dear,' have I 
 
 borne unto thy race. 
 But yesterday did I hear of him ; with the hayduks 
 
 he abides 
 In the wood of Garevitsa, and chief of them all he 
 
 rides." 
 Said Nenad: 
 
 "Mother, now make me new rai- 
 ment of the green ; 
 Short shalt thou make it, fitting in the forest to be 
 
 seen, 
 That forth in the wood to find him in this hour I 
 
 may go, 
 And that thus may pass from my spirit the weight 
 
 of living woe." 
 His mother dear bespake him : "Speak not like 
 
 a fool," said she; 
 "Nenad, my son, in very truth thou wilt perish 
 
 miserably." 
 But Nenad heard not his mother, nor would 
 
 harken what she said; 
 Whate'er was pleasing in his sight, he did that 
 
 thing instead. 
 
 [243]
 
 He made himself new raiment; he wrought it of 
 
 the green ; 
 And short he made it, fitting in the forest to be 
 
 seen. 
 He mounted the steed; to his brother through the 
 
 forest did he go, 
 That thereby might pass from him his weight of 
 
 living woe. 
 He made no sound, he spat not, to the steed he 
 
 spake not at all ; 
 When to Garevitsa wood he came, like a gray hawk 
 
 did he call: 
 "Green wood of Garevitsa, boldest thou hidden 
 
 in thee 
 The 'Most Dear,' my true brother? My mother's 
 
 son is he! 
 Keepest thou not the hero that will bring my 
 
 brother to me?" 
 'Neath a green fir sat Predrag and drank the 
 
 yellow wine. 
 When he heard the voice, he spake to his men: 
 
 "Ho, comrades good of mine! 
 Go forth to the road in ambush ; for the champion 
 
 unknown 
 Ye shall wait; ye shall not rob him, nor shall ye 
 
 strike him down: 
 
 Bring him alive to me, hither. Whate'er his line- 
 age shows, 
 He is kin to me." 
 
 And thereupon full thirty lads 
 
 arose. 
 
 [244-]
 
 In three places were they ambushed, in every place 
 
 ten men; 
 But none dared go before him, when he came to 
 
 the first ten, 
 To seize his steed ; and forthwith they shot against 
 
 him then. 
 Nenad spake 'mid the arrows: "Wood-brethren, 
 
 shoot me not, 
 Lest woe for a brother smite you, such as drove me 
 
 to this spot." 
 The outlaws of the ambush, in peace they let him 
 
 past. 
 When he came on to the second ten, the shafts flew 
 
 fierce and fast. 
 Said Nenad 'mid the arrows: "Wood-brethren, 
 
 shoot me not, 
 Lest woe for a brother smite you, such as drove 
 
 me to this spot, 
 For sorrow of him hath smitten me." In peace 
 
 they let him past. 
 When he came to the third ambush, the shafts flew 
 
 fierce and fast. 
 Then Nenad the young was angry ; he smote the 
 
 thirty then. 
 With the edges of the saber he smote on the first 
 
 ten; 
 The second ten he trampled with the stallion as he 
 
 could ; 
 And the third ten he scattered in his anger through 
 
 the wood, 
 Some of them in the forest, and some beside the 
 
 flood. 
 
 [245]
 
 One shouted unto Predrag : "A plague on thee 
 
 alight ! 
 A hero unknown in the forest hath slain thy 
 
 friends in fight." 
 To his nimble feet leaped Predrag; he took his 
 
 arrows and bow; 
 Down to the road to the ambush behind a fir did 
 
 he go. 
 With an arrow from the stallion he smote down 
 
 Nenad the young. 
 In the heart was he hit ; he shrieked like a hawk ; 
 
 to the saddlebow he clung, 
 Crying: 
 
 "Hero of the greenwood, may thy right 
 hand wither and dry! 
 God slay thee alive and the right hand the arrow 
 
 that let fly. 
 May thy right eye be blasted wherewith thou hast 
 
 looked on me ! 
 May woe for a brother smite thee, as erst it smote 
 
 on me, 
 Which drove me wretchedly hither, in evil luck to 
 
 die !" 
 When Predrag heard, he questioned from the 
 
 fir tree on high: 
 "Who art thou, wounded hero, and of what race 
 
 art thou?" 
 Said Nenad : 
 
 "Foh ! and wherefore thereof dost 
 thou question now? 
 
 Dost thou seek a maiden in marriage? In faith 
 I will give thee none ! 
 [246]
 
 I am the hero Nenad, and my mother liveth alone, 
 And I have but one born brother, a brother born 
 
 'Most Dear,' 
 
 And in a bitter hour I sought to find him here, 
 That thereby at last should pass away the weight 
 
 of my living woe ; 
 
 And I came on evil fortune and life's very over- 
 throw." 
 Predrag heard, and let fall the shafts ; in bitter 
 
 terror he was ; 
 He ran to the wounded hero and laid him on the 
 
 grass : 
 "Is it thou, my brother Nenad? I am Predrag, 
 
 thy brother dear. 
 Canst thou mend of the wound? My raiment I 
 
 will rend in pieces here, 
 And heal thee well, and bandage thee with the 
 
 strips of linen fine." 
 And the wounded Nenad answered: 
 
 "Is it 
 
 thou, brother mine? 
 Glory to God the highest, that I have looked on 
 
 thee. 
 The burden of my living woe is passed away from 
 
 me. 
 I cannot mend, but of my hurt bloodguiltless 
 
 mayst thou be !" 
 So Nenad spake, and thereupon forth his strong 
 
 spirit went, 
 And Predrag lifted up his voice with a miserable 
 
 lament : 
 
 [247]
 
 "Ah, Nenad, my fair splendid sun, early for me 
 didst thou rise, 
 
 And early set ! Ah, basil flower of my green para- 
 dise, 
 
 Early didst thou bloom, and early didst thou 
 
 wither here for me !" 
 
 From the scabbard at his girdle he wrenched 
 the poniard free ; 
 
 Right through his heart he plunged it. The blood 
 ran swift and red ; 
 
 Down brother fell by brother: the dead lay with 
 the dead. 
 
 [ 248 ]
 
 SISTER AND BROTHER 
 
 NINE dear sons and a daughter, a mother bore and 
 
 bred; 
 She reared them up till they were grown and the 
 
 sons were ready to wed, 
 
 And the maiden ripe for marriage. And straight- 
 way asked for her 
 
 Three suitors, a ban, and a marshal, and a neigh- 
 bor villager. 
 To the neighbor the mother would give her, but 
 
 her brethren to the man 
 From over sea would give her. They said to her: 
 
 "Marry the ban, 
 The great lord from beyond the sea. In every 
 
 month of the year 
 We will come, and every week in the month, to see 
 
 thee, sister dear." 
 The sister obeyed them, and the ban from over 
 
 sea she wed. 
 But behold a marvel ! God's pestilence struck her 
 
 nine brethren dead, 
 And the solitary mother was left. So passed three 
 
 years. 
 In her grief little Yelitsa the sister mourned with 
 
 tears : 
 "Dear God, a mighty marvel! What great sin 
 
 have I done 
 To my brethren, that of all of them cometh to me 
 
 not one?" 
 The wives of her lord's brethren reviled her 
 
 sharp enow: 
 
 [249]
 
 "O wife of our lords' brother, a wanton one art 
 
 thou. 
 Hateful unto thy brethren now hast thou come to 
 
 be, 
 That not one of thy brethren comes here to visit 
 
 thee." 
 And little sister Yelitsa wept much both day 
 
 and night; 
 But the dear God, in mercy, took pity on her 
 
 plight, 
 And sent forthwith two angels: 
 
 "Go down, ye 
 
 angels of mine, 
 To the white tomb of Yovan, the youngest of the 
 
 nine; 
 Breathe light upon him with your breath ; from 
 
 the tomb frame him a steed; 
 From the earth make cakes for the festival all 
 
 ready to his need; 
 Of his shroud make gifts, and get him in readiness 
 
 to appear 
 Upon his wedding visit at the house of his sister 
 
 dear." 
 To the white tomb of Yovan the angels of God 
 
 made speed; 
 They breathed upon him with their breath; from 
 
 the tomb they framed him a steed, 
 And cakes from the earth for the festival all ready 
 
 to his need; 
 Of his shroud they made gifts, and got him in 
 
 readiness to appear 
 
 [250]
 
 Upon his wedding visit at the house of his sister 
 
 dear. 
 Swiftly went Yovan the feeble. When the house 
 
 before him lay 
 His sister saw, and to meet him came forth a little 
 
 way; 
 And O her tears fell bitter, all for her sorrow's 
 
 sake! 
 They spread their arms, and each other kissed, and 
 
 sister to brother spake : 
 "Did ye not promise, brother, when ye gave me 
 
 in marriage here, 
 That ye would come to see me every month in the 
 
 year, 
 And every week in every month, to visit your sister 
 
 dear ? 
 But ye never came to see me, though three full 
 
 years have fled." 
 
 And little Yelitsa further unto her brother said : 
 "Why hast thou grown so dark, brother? 'Tis as 
 
 though beneath the sod 
 Thou hadst been." Said Yovan the feeble: "Be 
 
 still, as thou lovest God. 
 A hard constraint is on me. I have wedded eight 
 
 brothers well, 
 And served eight sisters by marriage; and, sister, 
 
 it befell 
 That, when my brothers were married, we made 
 
 nine houses white. 
 Therefore, my little sister, am I grown as black as 
 
 night." 
 
 [251]
 
 And little sister Yelitsa got ready. She fash- 
 ioned then 
 
 Gifts for her brethren and sisters ; silken shirts for 
 the men 
 
 She made, and, for her sisters, fair rings and brace- 
 lets fair. 
 
 And ever Yovan her brother besought her strongly 
 
 there : 
 
 "Dear little sister Yelitsa, I prithee go not 
 home, 
 
 Till on their wedding visit thy brethren to thee 
 
 come." 
 
 But Yelitsa would not turn back ; her fair gifts 
 she prepared. 
 
 Thence Yovan started homeward, and his sister 
 with him fared. 
 
 When they were come to their home again, a white 
 church stood thereby. 
 
 Said Yovan the feeble: 
 
 "Sister, I prithee tarry 
 nigh, 
 
 Until I go behind the church ; for here at the mar- 
 rying 
 
 Of the fourth of our eight brethren, I lost my 
 golden ring. 
 
 Let me go to seek it, sister." 
 
 To his tomb went 
 Yovan straight, 
 
 And little sister Yelitsa for Yovan there did wait. 
 
 She waited and sought him. Nigh the church a 
 fresh grave she espied; 
 
 [252]
 
 Suddenly she knew in sorrow that Yovan the weak 
 
 had died. 
 Quickly she went to the white house. When she 
 
 was come to the hall, 
 In the hollow rooms of the white house she heard 
 
 a cuckoo call. 
 
 Nay, it was not a cuckoo blue, but her mother cry- 
 ing sore. 
 Yelitsa lifted up her voice as she came unto the 
 
 door: 
 "Open the door, poor mother." Said the mother 
 
 thereunto : 
 "Get hence, thou pestilence of God, nine sons 
 
 of mine that slew! 
 Their ancient mother, also, wilt thou smite stark 
 
 and dead?" 
 And little sister Yelitsa lifted her voice and 
 
 said: 
 
 "Poor mother, open now the door! No pesti- 
 lence is here; 
 It is only little Yelitsa, and she is thy daughter 
 
 dear." 
 She opened the door. Each other they clasped 
 
 their arms around, 
 Wailing like cuckoos. Mother and child fell dead 
 
 upon the ground. 
 
 [858]
 
 MUYO AND ALIYA 
 
 MUYO and Aliya were brothers, and nobly did they 
 
 live; 
 Their very steeds and armor to each other would 
 
 they give. 
 They came unto a turbid lake, and a duck went 
 
 swimming by, 
 With golden wings ; and Muyo let his gray falcon 
 
 fly, 
 
 And Aliya a tame lanneret. Them happed the 
 
 duck to slay. 
 Said Muyo: "The falcon took it." But Aliya 
 
 said, "Nay, 
 'Twas the lanneret." 
 
 Then was Muyo sore cast 
 
 down in that place. 
 They seated them 'neath a green fir to drink the 
 
 wine apace, 
 And sleep and the wine o'ercame them. They 
 
 were seen of three vilas l white. 
 Then said the oldest : 
 
 "Here be now two noble 
 
 heroes of fight. 
 I will give an hundred sequins to whomsoever of 
 
 you 
 Shall make the heroes quarrel." 
 
 Then forth the 
 
 youngest flew 
 
 i See note 2, p. 15. But here the vilas seem to be really 
 malignant. 
 
 [254]
 
 On her white wings, and settled on the ground by 
 
 Muyo's head; 
 And over face and forehead the bitter tears she 
 
 shed. 
 Burned Muyo's face ; as he were mad, he leaped 
 
 at his brother's side. 
 When he looked, he saw the damsel ; to his brother 
 
 then he cried: 
 "Arise now, Aliya, my brother! Let us hasten 
 
 home away." 
 Up leaped the Turk: "Nay, brother, now may a 
 
 plague thee slay ! 
 Now hast thou got two damsels, but there is none 
 
 for me." 
 Muyo was grieved; forth from his belt he 
 
 wrenched the dagger free, 
 And there smote Aliya to the heart. He fell on 
 
 the green grass ; 
 But Muyo seized the milk-white steed, and threw 
 
 behind the lass ; 
 And unto his own homestead o'er the mountain did 
 
 he ride. 
 Neighed the black steed of Aliya, and the wounded 
 
 hero cried: 
 "O Muyo, brother and kinsman ! turn back upon 
 
 the way ; 
 
 Take the black steed, lest masterless on the moun- 
 tain side it neigh 
 
 i "Muyo must have been married or did it seem to Aliya 
 that two damsels were standing by Muyo?" (Note by 
 Karajich.) 
 
 [255]
 
 But thy fame shall be forever, as though thou 
 
 hadst blinded thine eyes." 
 Muyo turned back unto him, and took the steed 
 
 likewise, 
 
 And threw the girl thereon. Across the moun- 
 tains did they pass ; 
 And when about the middle of the journey home 
 
 he was, 
 He came upon a raven with the right wing gone 
 
 from the side ; 
 And unto the black raven he raised his voice and 
 
 cried: 
 "Ho, raven ! Without the black right wing, 
 
 prithee how dost thou fare?" 
 And with a wail the raven gave answer to him 
 
 there : 
 "Without my wing is it with me as without a 
 
 brother to be ; 
 
 As without Aliya, Muyo, is it even now with thee." 
 Said the Turk to himself: "Ah, Muyo, alas for 
 
 thy might this day ! 
 
 If even the birds reproach me, what will my breth- 
 ren say?" 
 Said the vila to him: "Muyo, return on thy 
 
 track again. 
 Perchance I might heal thy brother; I was once a 
 
 healer of men." 
 Muyo turned back upon the track. When at 
 
 the lake they were, 
 He looked behind at the black steed, but the 
 
 maiden was not there. 
 
 [256]
 
 By his friend he knelt, but the spirit had hasted 
 
 to depart; 
 When he saw, he drew his dagger and thrust it 
 
 through his heart. 
 
 [257
 
 THE MIRACLE OF ST. NICHOLAS 
 
 DEAR God, great marvel is it unseen wonders to 
 
 behold! 
 In St. Paul's white monastery were tables of the 
 
 gold, 
 And all the saints in order were seated. At the 
 
 head 
 Was the Thunderer Elijah; where the midst of the 
 
 board was spread, 
 Were Mariya and Sava; at the bottom of the 
 
 board 
 Were Holy Friday and Sunday. To the glory 
 
 of Christ the Lord 
 To drink, and begin the festival, St. Nicholas 
 
 stood up, 
 But he fell asleep in a little and in slumber dropped 
 
 the cup. 
 It fell on the golden table, but broke not, nor 
 
 spilled the wine. 
 Elij ah then rebuked him : 
 
 "Nicholas, brother mine, 
 We have not slumbered, brother, though we drank 
 
 cool wine ere now, 
 Nor dropped cups from our fingers. Why dost 
 
 thou slumber so?" 
 Said St. Nicholas : 
 
 "Elijah the Thunderer, let be ! 
 I closed my eyes for a little and a strange dream 
 
 came to me. 
 
 [258]
 
 There were three hundred caloyers x set sail on the 
 
 blue sea, 
 And they bore sacrificial gifts to the famous Holy 
 
 Height 
 Of Athos ; yellow wax they bore and also incense 
 
 white. 
 The wind arose among the clouds ; the waves of the 
 
 sea it smote, 
 To drown three hundred caloyers. But they 
 
 cried as from one throat: 
 'Aid us, God and St. Nicholas ! Come, wherever 
 
 thou mayst be 1' 
 And I aided them and the caloyers came home 
 
 again from sea; 
 Safe home came the three hundred, and O their 
 
 hearts were light! 
 They bore the sacrificial gifts unto the Holy 
 
 Height 
 Of Athos ; yellow wax they bore and white incense 
 
 as well. 
 At that time did I slumber, and the cup from my 
 
 fingers fell." 
 
 i Monks of the Greek church. 
 
 [259]
 
 THE SERPENT BRIDEGROOM 
 
 I WILL tell you a marvel, brethren, how the King 
 
 of Budim was wed, 
 And nine full years passed over, yet there was no 
 
 child to his bed. 
 
 Forth issued King Milutin ; he went to the forest- 
 close ; 
 But God and fortune granted him not to strike the 
 
 stags and does. 
 
 And his thirst was great ; to a chilly spring Mi- 
 lutin went his way, 
 And drank the chilly water. Then down 'neath a 
 
 fir he lay. 
 Three vilas of the hill came then, thereby their 
 
 thirst to slake, 
 And gossip by the water; and the eldest of them 
 
 spake : 
 "Harken, beloved daughters! Harken me now, 
 
 and hear! 
 Since the King of Budim married, now is it full 
 
 nine year; 
 And yet no child of his heart hath he to cherish and 
 
 hold dear." 
 Said the vila also: "Of any herb doth either 
 
 of you know, 
 By the virtue whereof, hereafter, his wife with 
 
 child shall go?" 
 But the younger twain said nothing. Only the 
 
 eldest said: 
 "If the king knew all my knowledge, he would 
 
 gather every maid 
 
 [260]
 
 In Budim, and before them the dry gold would he 
 
 set, 
 Until their hands should have woven thereof a 
 
 splendid net. 
 Down on the quiet Danube, he would throw the 
 
 fair net in. 
 In it, a great fish would he take ; and golden is 
 
 every fin. 
 He would take the right fin from it ; then back the 
 
 fish would he throw, 
 And give the fin to the queen to eat. Straightway 
 
 with child would she go." 
 But King Milutin saw them, and heard whate'er 
 
 was said; 
 And he went to the town of Budim and gathered 
 
 every maid 
 In Budim, and before them the good dry gold he 
 
 set, 
 Until their hands had woven thereof a splendid 
 
 net. 
 Down on the quiet Danube he threw the fair net 
 
 in. 
 In it he took a mighty fish, and golden was every 
 
 fin. 
 He took the right fin from it; and back the fish 
 
 did he throw ; 
 He gave the fin to his queen to eat. Straightway 
 
 with child did she go. 
 A year she carried her burden ; and then the time 
 
 came on 
 Of the bringing forth of the kingly child, but she 
 
 did not bear a son. 
 [261]
 
 Nay, a fierce serpent was it! On the earth when 
 
 it did faU, 
 Straightway the serpent crept away through a 
 
 crevice in the wall. 
 And straight the queen departed ; unto the king she 
 
 spake : 
 "For the child of thy heart, it is hard, O king, 
 
 to be merry for his sake. 
 No son but a serpent ! What time on the earth 
 
 the snake did fall, 
 
 Forthwith the serpent crept away through a crev- 
 ice in the wall." 
 Then said the king: "Now glory to God for 
 
 his gift's sake." 
 Then seven years passed over. From the wall the 
 
 serpent spake: 
 "Wherefore, thou King of Budim, findest thou no 
 
 bride for me?" 
 Sore was Milutin troubled, but at length aloud 
 
 said he: 
 "My serpent, my evil offspring, who will give a 
 
 maid to a snake?" 
 But thus to him the serpent raised up his voice and 
 
 spake : 
 "My father, the King of Budim, do thou saddle 
 
 Swallow, and wend 
 To the tsar. He will give thee a maid for me in 
 
 the city of Prizrend." 
 When the King of Budim heard it, he saddled 
 
 Swallow, the steed; 
 There went unto a hero, a hero then indeed !
 
 He came to the city of Prizrend. When he came 
 
 'neath the tsar's tower, 
 The tsar looked down upon him, and saw him in 
 
 that hour. 
 The tsar came down unto him, and in the open 
 
 square 
 The heroes spread out wide their arms, and kissed 
 
 each other there, 
 And each asked how fared the other. The tsar 
 
 the king did lead 
 To the palace ; to the new stable the servants took 
 
 the steed. 
 For three white days with yellow wine their thirst 
 
 the kings did slake, 
 Till they had ta'en their fill thereof, and then the 
 
 brandy spake. 
 
 Sore was the King of Budim by his embassy dis- 
 tressed. 
 
 The Tsar of Prizrend saw it, and thus the king ad- 
 dressed : 
 "I conjure thee, King of Budim; what trouble 
 
 troubles thee, 
 That thou art distressed in spirit before my lords 
 
 and me?" 
 The king to the tsar spake likewise: 
 
 "0 tsar 
 
 of Prizrend, hear! 
 When I married, no son of my heart was born for 
 
 the space of full nine year. 
 When that their term was over, and the nine year 
 
 course was run, 
 
 To me was born a serpent instead of a little son; 
 [263]
 
 And, at its birth, unto the earth did the fierce 
 
 serpent fall, 
 And forthwith the serpent crept away through a 
 
 crevice in the wall. 
 When seven years were over, therefrom did the 
 
 serpent call: 
 'Wherefore, thou King of Budim, dost thou find 
 
 no bride for me?' 
 
 And unto the fierce serpent I answered finally: 
 'My serpent, my evil offspring, who will give a 
 
 maid to a snake?' 
 But thereupon the serpent lifted his voice and 
 
 spake : 
 " 'My father, the King of Budim, do thou saddle 
 
 Swallow and wend 
 To the tsar. He will give thee a maid for me in 
 
 the city of Prizrend.' 
 
 "And tsar, a wretch am I in this. But I la- 
 bored and came from afar." 
 And unto the king in answer outspake at last 
 
 the tsar: 
 "Hearest thou, King of Budim? To Budim for 
 
 me thou shalt go. 
 There shalt thou ask the serpent in the wall, 
 
 whether or no 
 He will lead the wooers from Budim to Prizrend 
 
 through the land, 
 So that no sun shall warm them, nor dew upon 
 
 them stand. 
 If in such wise the serpent will venture them to 
 
 lead, 
 
 [264]
 
 Then for a bride to the serpent I will give the 
 
 maid indeed." 
 When the King of Budim heard it, forth was 
 
 steed Swallow led. 
 He threw himself on the back of the steed, and 
 
 forth away he sped, 
 
 Over the level country, like a star in the lucid sky. 
 And the king thought within him, when Budim he 
 
 came nigh: 
 "Alas ! In the name of God the One, now 
 
 whither shall I wend, 
 To give to the serpent in the wall the greetings 
 
 the tsar doth send?" 
 Before the gates of Budim but a little space was 
 
 he. 
 Spake the serpent : "My father, gave the tsar his 
 
 maiden unto me?" 
 Said the king: 
 
 "My evil offspring, if thou dar- 
 
 est, snake, to wend 
 With the crowd of gay-clad wooers from Budim 
 
 to Prizrend, 
 So that no sun shall wann them, nor dew upon 
 
 them stand, 
 The tsar will lightly surrender the maiden to thy 
 
 hand. 
 But if the crowd of wooers thou wilt not venture 
 
 to lead, 
 No maiden of his whatever will the tsar give thee 
 
 indeed." 
 But the serpent said: 
 
 [265]
 
 "The wooers, now get 
 
 them ready to hand. 
 We will go hence for the maiden; I will lead them 
 
 through the land, 
 So that no sun shall warm them, nor dew upon them 
 
 stand." 
 They gathered a host of wooers, a thousand 
 
 with all speed; 
 They came to the king's courtyard. They 
 
 brought forth Swallow the steed; 
 Alone in the courtyard stood the steed. Then the 
 
 quick heralds cried: 
 "Make ready, gay-clad wooers! Make ready, 
 
 groom of the bride 1" 
 And when in the wall's crevice the serpent heard 
 
 the call, 
 
 Forthwith crawled down the serpent from the crev- 
 ice in the wall; 
 By the knee he gripped the charger ; on the saddle 
 
 he coiled and lay. 
 Then out through Budim the city they hastened 
 
 on their way. 
 From Budim to Prizrend a dark blue cloud drave 
 
 o'er them through the land, 
 So that no sun could warm them, nor dew upon 
 
 them stand. 
 When they came to Prizrend, they led their steeds 
 
 through the tsar's courtyard there ; 
 But the serpent guided not Swallow that went 
 
 alone through the square. 
 Gloriously the tsar welcomed them with gifts that 
 
 were splendid indeed, 
 [266]
 
 To every wooer a shirt of silk, to the groom a hawk 
 and a steed, 
 
 And moreover the maiden of Prizrend. Then the 
 
 quick heralds cried: 
 
 "Make ready, wooers, and groomsman, and 
 bringer of the bride! 
 
 Make ready, maiden of Prizrend! It is time for 
 
 us to ride." 
 
 The wooers and the maiden, they mounted one 
 and all. 
 
 When the serpent heard it, down he came from 
 the crevice in the wall; 
 
 He gripped the charger by the knee ; on the sad- 
 dle he coiled and lay. 
 
 Then out through Prizrend the city they hastened 
 on their way, 
 
 But evermore above them drave on the dark blue 
 cloud. 
 
 The wooers spurred their horses, until they tram- 
 pled proud; 
 
 And thereupon the serpent on Swallow that did 
 ride, 
 
 He made the charger trample on the pavement in 
 his pride. 
 
 He goaded him so fiercely, that the steed from end 
 to end 
 
 Hath ruined all the pavement in the city of Priz- 
 rend. 
 
 Plague strike on it! In twelve full years the ma- 
 sons scarce will mend 
 
 The damage that upon that time unto the tsar 
 was done. 
 
 [267]
 
 And merrily and with good heart to Budim they 
 were gone, 
 
 And anew the marriage festival they held a full 
 week more, 
 
 And solemnized it duly until the rites were o'er. 
 
 Then each returned unto the house, and the ser- 
 pent to the wall, 
 
 And the king remained a season within the council- 
 hall. 
 
 Time came to bring together the bridegroom 
 and the bride. 
 
 They brought her to the tower; to the highest 
 room they hied; 
 
 They left her in the highest room. At the middle 
 of the night 
 
 There was a sound of voices in the chamber in the 
 height ; 
 
 And the Lady Queen in the tower stole on from 
 floor to floor, 
 
 Till she reached the highest story ; then she opened 
 the chamber door. 
 
 What saw she in the chamber? A mighty marvel 
 therein ! 
 
 On a cushion in the chamber, there lay a serpent- 
 skin; 
 
 On the pillow a good hero in slumber deep was 
 laid; 
 
 And the damsel out of Prizrend, he held the lovely 
 maid. 
 
 A mother has joy of her children. She stole the 
 serpent-skin ; 
 
 [268]
 
 She bore it to the living fire, and swiftly threw it 
 in. 
 
 To the king, her lord and master, she ran forth 
 
 hastily : 
 
 "O king, upon this hour it is well with thee and 
 me! 
 
 I went to the high chamber, and opened the door. 
 Therein 
 
 On a cushion in the chamber there lay a serpent- 
 skin; 
 
 On the pillow a good hero in slumber deep was 
 laid; 
 
 The damsel out of Prizrend, he held the lovely 
 maid. 
 
 And forthwith from the chamber I stole the ser- 
 pent-skin, 
 
 And took it to the living fire, and quickly threw 
 
 it in." 
 "What is this, wife? May the serpent now 
 
 seize thee and devour!" 
 
 And they hastened forth together to the sum- 
 mit of the tower. 
 
 What saw they ? A mighty marvel ! On the pil- 
 low a hero dead; 
 
 The maid of Prizrend embraced him. She lifted 
 
 her voice and said: 
 
 "Alas ! In the name of the one God, I am wid- 
 owed and alone! 
 
 My mother, for me God slay thee! little enow 
 hast thou done, 
 
 And this woe hast thou brought upon thyself." 
 So the mother lost her son. 
 [269]
 
 We give you the song, but God on high gives 
 
 health unto the wise. 
 Our fathers lied unto us, and we repeat their lies. 
 
 [ 270
 
 THE WIFE OF HASAN AGA 1 
 
 WHAT shows white in the wood? A flock of swans 
 
 or a bank of snow? 
 Swans would have flown and a snow bank would 
 
 have melted long ago. 
 It is not snow, nor a milk-white swan, but Hasan 
 
 Aga's tent; 
 Sore wounded was he. His mother and sister to 
 
 him went; 
 For very shame his wife came not. 2 When his 
 
 wounds were healed aright, 
 
 1 This poem is based on the life of the Mohammedan 
 Serbs. It is noteworthy not only from its own literary 
 merit, but from being the first of the Servian ballads to be- 
 come known to western Europe, and, above all, from the 
 magnificent translation of it by Goethe. It was first printed 
 by the Abate Alberto Fortis, in his Viaggio in Dalmazia, 
 Venice, 1774, with an accompanying Italian translation. 
 Fortis probably derived the ballad from a manuscript that 
 is still preserved. In the next year, 1775, there appeared 
 a German translation of a portion of Fortis's work (in- 
 cluding this ballad) Die Sitten der Morlacken aus dem 
 Italienischen iibersetzt, Bern, 1765. Goethe based his own 
 work, which was probably executed in this same year, 1775, 
 on this German translation, but apparently also referred to 
 Fortis's original work, with its edition of the original text. 
 His poem was first printed in Herder's Volkslieder, in 1778. 
 Karajich reprinted this ballad from the text of Fortis, but 
 with a changed orthography and several conjectural emenda- 
 tions. Finally, the manuscript to which Fortis was in- 
 debted was published by Miklosich in 1883, at Vienna, along 
 with a full discussion of the different questions connected 
 with the poem (Sitzunggberichte der phil.-histor. Classe d-er I ' t 
 kaiserl. Akads d. W., ciii, 413-490). / 
 
 2 "The wife 'could not even in this case overcome her dread 
 of meeting a man. A girl is praised in a folksong as 'hav- 
 ing never seen a male being.' " Miklosich, p. 438. 
 
 [271]
 
 He charged his faithful wife withal: 
 
 "Come not 
 into my sight; 
 
 Await me never, woman, my fair white house 
 within ; 
 
 Nor yet do thou abide me in the houses of my kin." 
 When the faithful woman heard it, sad was her 
 heart indeed. 
 
 Suddenly from the house she heard the trampling 
 of the steed. 
 
 To the window she ran, to break her neck by leap- 
 ing down from the tower; 
 
 But the daughters of Hasan Aga pursued her in 
 
 that hour: 
 
 "Return to us, dear mother ! Our father comes 
 not," said they ; 
 
 "It is thy brother, our uncle, Pintorovich the 
 
 Bey." 
 
 The wife of Hasan Aga, to her brother's breast 
 she came: 
 
 "Ah, brother, from my children five doth he send 
 
 me ! It is shame !" 
 
 Naught said the bey ; in his silken pouch forth- 
 with his hand he thrust 
 
 For a bill of divorce that granted her her dower 
 held in trust, 1 
 
 And bade her go to her mother. When the pur- 
 port thereof she wist, 
 
 i By the Turkish law a sum of money is promised to a 
 woman at her marriage before the cadi ; this she may receive 
 in case she is divorced by her husband. 
 
 [JTO]
 
 Forthwith upon the forehead her two fair sons 
 
 she kissed, 
 And on their rosy cheeks she kissed her little 
 
 daughters twain. 
 But the little son in the cradle she could not leave 
 
 for pain. 
 Her brother took the lady's hand ; and hard it was 
 
 to lead 
 That wretched woman from her babe, but he threw 
 
 her on the steed; 
 He brought her unto the white house, and there 
 
 he took her in. 
 A little while, but scarce a week, she stayed among 
 
 her kin. 
 Good is the matron's parentage, men seek her in 
 
 marriage withal; 
 But the great Cadi of Imoski desires her most of 
 
 all. 
 "So should I not desire it," imploringly she 
 
 said. 
 
 "Brother, I prithee, give me not to any to be wed, 
 That my heart break not with looking on my chil- 
 dren motherless." 
 But the bey no whit he cared at all because of 
 
 her distress ; 
 TO the great Cadi of Imoski he will give her to 
 
 be wed. 
 Still the matron with her brother most miserably 
 
 she pled, 
 
 That he a milk-white letter to the cadi should pre- 
 pare, 
 And send it to the cadi: 
 
 [273]
 
 "The matron 1 greets 
 
 thee fair, 
 And implores thee: when that thou hast brought 
 
 the wooers from every side, 
 And when thou comest to her white house, 2 do thou 
 
 bring a veil for the bride, 
 That she see not by the aga's house her children 
 
 motherless." 
 When the letter came to the cadi, with pomp 
 
 and lordliness 
 He gathered many wooers; ah, nobly did they 
 
 come! 
 And splendidly the wooers they brought the fair 
 
 bride home! 
 But when they were by the aga's house, forth 
 
 looked her daughters fair, 
 And her two sons came before her, and spoke to 
 
 their mother there: 
 "Return with us, dear mother, to eat with us 
 
 again !" 
 When the wife of Hasan Aga heard, she spake to 
 
 the groomsman then: 
 "Brother in God, my groomsman, stop the 
 
 steeds, of gentleness, 
 By my house, that I may give fair gifts to my 
 
 children motherless." 
 They checked the steeds at the house for her. 
 
 She gave her children gifts ; 
 To either son a gilded knife, to her daughters fair 
 
 long shifts, 
 
 i "Maiden" in the original ! 
 
 *This phrase was inserted by Kar&jich. 
 
 [274]
 
 To her babe in the cradle a garment in a bit of 
 
 linen tied. 1 
 
 When Hasan Aga saw it, to his two sons he cried: 
 "Hither, my children motherless 1 and from her 
 
 stand apart ! 
 Pity and mercy hath she none within her stony 
 
 heart!" 
 She heard. Her face smote on the ground in 
 
 the deep of her distress, 
 And her soul departed as she saw her children 
 
 motherless. 
 
 i That is, wrapped up, to be saved, for a later time, when 
 he is grown up. But the sense of this line and the preceding 
 is very doubtful. See Jagich, in Archiv fur slavische Philol- 
 ogie, x, 659, 660. 
 
 [275]
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY 
 
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