Hero Tales and Legends of the Serbians

One day the mother of Prince Marko spoke thus to her son: “O, my darling son, thou Royal Prince Marko! Why dost thou erect so many churches and shrines? Either thou hast sinned gravely before God and thou art in lowly penance, or thou must have piled somewhere superabundant wealth?” Then Marko of Prilip answered her: “My beloved, aged mother! I will tell thee the truth. Once while I travelled through the Moorish country I rose early one morning in order to go and refresh my Sharatz at the well. When I arrived there I found twelve Moors who had come for the same purpose, and, as I, in my pride, would not await my turn, the twelve Moors opposed me because they had come first. At once we began to quarrel. I lifted my heavy club and felled one of the Moors, to the earth; his companions attacked me and I struck another to the ground; ten assailed me and I killed a third; nine engaged me and a fourth bit the dust; the other eight rushed on me and I knocked down the fifth; seven strove with me and I sent to eternity the sixth; but I had to face the remaining six, who overpowered me; they bound my arms to my back and carried me to their Sultan, who flung me in prison. There I dwelt for eight years knowing nothing of the seasons, save that in winter girls would play with snow-balls and sometimes fling them through my prison bars, wherefore I knew that it was winter; or maidens flung me bunches of basil, and thus I knew when it was early summer.”