Saying,—'That is the unhappy woman,
That is she who kill'd her husband's brother!'
But if I refuse to poison Bogdan,
Never will my husband come to bless me!'
Thus she thought, until a thought relieved her;
She descended to the castle's cavern,
Took the consecrated cup of blessing.
'Twas a cup of beaten gold her father
Had bestow'd upon his daughter's nuptials;
Full of golden wine she fill'd the vessel,
And she bore it to her brother Bogdan.
Low to earth she bow'd herself before him,
And she kiss'd his hands and garments meekly.
This gold cup, with golden wine o'erflowing.
Give me for my cup a horse and falcon.'
Bogdan heard the lady speak complacent,
And most cheerfully gave steed and falcon.
In the mountain-forest; nought he found there;
But chance brought him at the fall of evening
To a green lake far within the forest,
Where a golden-pinion'd duck was swimming.
Dmitar loosen'd then his grey-wing'd falcon,
Bade him seize the golden-pinion'd swimmer.
Lo! the duck had seized the grey-wing'd falcon,
And against his sides had crush'd his pinion.
Soon as Dmitar Jakshich saw, he stripp'd him,
Stripp'd him swiftly of his hunting garments;—
Speedily into the lake he plung'd him,
And he bore his falcon from its waters.
Then with pitying voice he ask'd his falcon:
'Hast thou courage yet, my faithful falcon!
Now thy wings are from thy body riven?'
Whispering, said the falcon to his master:
'I without my pinions nought resemble,
But a brother riven from a brother.'
Then the thought pierced through the breast of Dmitar,
That his wife was charged to kill his brother.
Swift he threw him on his mighty courser—
Swift he hurried to Bijögrad's[7] fortress,
Praying that his brother had not perish'd.
When he spurr'd his raven steed so fiercely
That the impetuous courser's feet sank under,
And were crushed and broken on the pavement.
In his deep perplexity and trouble,
Dmitar took the saddle off his courser,
Flung it on the courser's nether haunches,
And he fled alone to Belgrad's fortress.
'Angelia! thou my bride all faithful!
Tell me, tell me, hast thou kill'd my brother?'
Sweet indeed was Angelia's answer:
'No! indeed I have not killed thy brother;
To thy brother have I reconciled thee.'"
And the tenth, the loveliest and the latest,
Was Jelitza,—a beloved daughter.
They had grown together up to manhood,
Till the sons were ripe for bridal altars,
And the maid was ready for betrothing.
Many a lover asked the maid in marriage;
First a Ban;[9] a chieftain was the other;
And the third, a neighbour from her village.
So her mother for the neighbour pleaded;
For the far-off dwelling ban her brothers.
Thus they urged it to their lovely sister:
"Go, we pray thee, our beloved sister,
With the ban across the distant waters:
Go! thy brothers oft will hasten to thee;
Every month of every year will seek thee;
So the maiden listened to her brothers,
With the ban she crossed the distant waters:
But, behold! 0 melancholy marvel!
God sent down the plague, and all the brothers.
All the nine, were swept away, and lonely
Stood their miserable sonless mother.
Often had Jelitza sighed in silence:
"Heaven of mercy! 'tis indeed a marvel!
Have I sinn'd against them?—that my brothers,
Spite of all their vows, come never near me."
Then did her stepsisters scorn and jeer her:
"Cast away! thy brothers must despise thee!
Never have they come to greet their sister."
Bitter from the morning to the evening,
Till the God of heaven took pity on her,
And he summon'd two celestial angels:
"Hasten down to earth," he said, "my angels!
To the white grave, where Jovan is sleeping,—
Young Jovan, the maiden's youngest brother.
Breathe your spirit into him; and fashion
From the white grave-stone a steed to bear him:
From the mouldering earth his food prepare him:
Then equip and send him to his sister."
To the white grave where Jovan was sleeping.
From the white grave-stone a steed they fashion'd;
Into his dead corpse they breathed their spirit;
From the ready earth the bread they moulded;
For a present his grave-shroud they folded;
And equipp'd, and bade him seek his sister.
Long before he had approach'd her dwelling,
Far, far off his sister saw and hail'd him;
Hastened to him—threw her on his bosom,
Loosed his vest, and stamp'd his cheeks with kisses.
Then she wept, and thus address'd her brother:
"0! Jovan! to me—to me, a maiden,
Thou, and all my brothers, all, ye promised
Oft and oft to seek your distant sister:
Every month in every year to seek her,—
Every week in every month to seek her.
Three long years have sped away unheeded,
And ye have not sought me"—For a moment
She was silent; and then said, "My brother!
Thou art deadly pale! why look so deadly
But Jovan thus check'd his sister: "Silence,
Silence, sister! as in God thou trustest;
For a heavy sorrow has o'erta'en me.
When eight brothers had prepared their nuptials,
Eight stepsisters ready to espouse them,
Hardly was the marriage service ended
Ere we built us eight white dwellings, sister!
Therefore do I look so dark, Jelitza."
And the maid equipp'd her for a journey.
Many a costly present she provided
For her brothers and her bridal sisters:
For her brothers, fairest silken vestments;
For her bridal-sisters, rings and jewels.
But Jovan would fain detain her—"Go not,
Go not now, I pray thee—my Jelitza!
Wait until thy brothers come and greet thee."
But she would not listen to her brother:
She prepared the costliest, fairest presents.
So the young Jovan began his journey,
And his sister travell'd patient by him.
Near the house a tall white church was standing,
Young Jovan he whispered to his sister—
"Stop, I pray thee, my beloved sister!
Let me enter the white church an instant.
Lo! I lost a golden ring, my sister!
Let me go an instant—I shall find it."
And Jelitza stood—she stood impatient—
Wondering—wondering—but in vain she waited.
Then she left the spot to seek her brother.
Many and many a grave was in the churchyard
Newly made—Jovan was nowhere—Sighing,
On she hasten'd—hasten'd to the city,
Saw her mother's dwelling, and press'd forward
Eager to that old white dwelling.
To that cuckoo's cry within the dwelling!
Lo! it was not the gray cuckoo's crying—
'Twas her aged, her gray-headed mother.
To the door Jelitza press'd—outstretching
Her white neck, she call'd—"Make ope, my mother!
Hasten to make ope the door, my mother!"
But her mother to her cry made answer:
"Plague of God! avaunt! my sons have perish'd—
All—all nine have perish'd—Wilt thou also,
Take their aged mother!" Then Jelitza
Shriek'd, "0 open—open, dearest mother!
I am not God's plague—I am thy daughter,
Then the mother push'd the door wide open,
And she scream'd aloud, and groan'd, and flung her
Old arms round her daughter—All was silent—
Stiff and dead they fell to earth together.
Such a wonder ne'er before was witness'd.
In Saint Paul's—within the holy cloister,
Gather'd round a golden table, seated
In three ranks, the saints are all collected;
O'er them sits the thunderer Elias;[10]
In the midst are Sava and Maria;
At the ends are Petka and Nedelia;
And their health the holy Nicholas pledges.
Pledges them their health to Jesus' glory.[11]
But behold, behold the saint!—he slumbers;
From his hand the cup of wine has fallen,
Fallen from it on the golden table:
Yet the wine's unspilt,—the cup unbroken.
Then laughed out the thunderer Elias:
"0 my brother! 0 thou holy Nicholas:
Often drank we cooling wine together;
But it was our duty not to slumber,
Why to-day does slumber's power subdue thee?"
Him thus answer'd Nicholas the holy:
"Jest not thus with me, thou sainted thunderer!
For I fell asleep, and dreamt three hundred,
Dreamt three hundred friars had embark'd them
In one vessel on the azure ocean;
Bearing offerings to the holy mountain,
Offerings,—golden wax, and snowy incense.
From the clouds there broke a furious tempest,
Lash'd the blue waves of the trembling ocean,
Scooping watery graves for all the friars.
Then I heard their blended voices call me,
'Help, 0 God! and help, 0 holy Nicholas!
Would that thou, where'er thou art, wert with us!'
So I hurried down to help the suppliants—
So I saved the whole three hundred friars
So I shipped them full of joy and courage;
Brought their offerings to the holy mountain,
Brought their golden wax, their snowy incense;—
And meanwhile I seem'd in gentle slumber,
And my cup fell on the golden table."
"Sun! I am fairer than thou,—far fairer;
Fairer than is thy sister[12] or thy brethren,—
Fairer than yon bright moon at midnight shining,
Fairer than yon gay star in heav'n's arch twinkling,
That star, all other stars preceding proudly,
As walks before his sheep the careful shepherd."
"What shall be done with this presumptuous maiden?"
And to the sun God gave a speedy answer:
"Thou glorious Sun! thou my beloved daughter![13]
Be joyous yet! say, why art thou dejected?
Wilt thou reward the maiden for her folly—
Shine on, and burn the maiden's snowy forehead.
But I a gloomier dowry yet will give her;
Evil to her shall be her husband's brother;
Evil to her shall be her husband's father.
Then shall she think upon the affront she gave thee."
The little birds all left their cloudy bed;
The maiden wander'd bare-foot on her way;
Her brother bore her sandals, and he said:
"0 sister mine! cold, cold thy feet must be."
"No! not my feet, sweet brother! not my feet—
But my poor heart is cold with misery.
There's nought to chill me in the snowy sleet:
My mother—'tis my mother who hath chill'd me,
Bound me to one who with disgust hath fill'd me."
In the verdant forest:
In the verdant forest,
On the slender branches.
Nightingale to shoot at.
She implored the sportsmen,
"Shoot me not, ye sportsmen!
I will give you music,
On the crimson rose-tree."
They deceive the songster,
In a cage confine her,
Give her to their loved one.
Hangs its head in silence:
Then the sportsmen bear her
To the verdant forests.
Woe! woe! woe betide us,
Friend from friend divided,
Bird from forest banish'd!"
A brother's fondness never knew,
Agreed, poor girls, with one another,
That they would make themselves a brother:
They cut them silk, as snow-drops white;
And silk, as richest rubies bright;
They carved his body from a bough
Of box-tree from the mountain's brow;
PRINTED BY ROBERT MACLEHOSE AND CO. LTD., AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS GLASGOW, GREAT BRITAIN.
PHOTOS
[Illustration: CROWN PRINCE ALEXANDER]
[Illustration: PREMIER N.???]
[Illustration: KING The fourteenth century]
[Illustration: DURING TURKISH RULE IN SERBIA. Serbs?? away?? the????]
[Illustration: THE SECOND SERBIAN REVOLUTION OF 1815.]
[Illustration: THE MONASTARY OF KALENIC. Built by Stephen the Tall.]
[Illustration: SERBIAN SOLDIERS WITH AN ENGLISH NURSE.]
[Illustration: SERBIAN OFFICERS UNDER ADRIANOPLE IN 1912.]
[Illustration: THE CATTLE MARKET.]
[Illustration: A TYPICAL MONTENEGRIN LADY: H.M. QUEEN MILENA.]
[Illustration: PEASANT TYPES.]
[Illustration: THE SUPERIOR OF A MONASTERY.]
[Illustration: KING PETER: "How did it happen, General, that you Turks lost the battle on Kumanovo?"
THE TURKISH GENERAL: "Kismet!"]
[Illustration: Photo-Underwood and Underwood
WOMEN DOING THE WORK OF MEN.]
[Illustration: SERBIAN WOMEN CARRYING WOUNDED.
From photograph by kind permission of Mr. Crawford Price.]
[Illustration: WAITING FOR A PLACE AT THE HOSPITAL.]
Sculptor: T. Mestovic]
[Illustration: SPLIET-SPALATO.]
[Illustration: DUBROVNIC RAGUSA]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] This lecture was delivered in December, 1915.
[2] The Archbishop of Canterbury, The Character and Call of the Church of England, p. 118.
[3] Stanley Lane-Poole, Turkey, p. 40.
[4] Daily Telegraph, 5th February.
[5] Kavavlashka.
[6]Karabogdanska. The above and following poems are taken from John BOWRING: Serbian Popular Poetry. London, 1827.
[7] Belgrad.
[8] Chekmel-Juprija.
[9] Ban, a title frequently used in Servia. Its general acceptation is governor. It may be derived from Pan, the old Slavonic for Lord.
[10] Gromovnik Daja.
[11] I napij. i u slavu Ristovn.
[12] Svezdá, star, is of the feminine gender.
[13] Sun is feminine in Servian.