The Ballads of Marko Kraljević/Marko Kraljević and the Twelve Moors
MARKO KRALJEVIĆ AND THE
TWELVE MOORS
Kraljević Marko set up his pavilion
In the harsh country of the Moors.
He sate him down to drink wine in his pavilion,
But or ever he had drained the glass,
A slave-girl came and ran,
And entered into the tent of Kraljević Marko.
Therewithal she began to beseech Marko:
"Brother-in-God, Kraljević Marko,
By the most high God, and by Saint John,
Save me from the Moors this day.10
For I am come into the hands of three,
And this day I go to the fourth
Of twelve Moorish brethren,
And they entreat me not as wont is,
But scourge me with a threefold scourge,
And constrain me to kiss them.
Unhappy that I am! I may not suffer to look upon them,
Far less to bestow upon them kisses!"
Marko took her by the hand,
He made her to sit down by his right knee, 20
And covered her with a figured mantle.
In her hand he set a glass of wine.
"There, damsel!" quoth he, "Drink thy fill,
This day hath the sun risen upon thee,
Since thou art come to me into my tent."
Scarce had the damsel taken the glass
And raised it up for to drink the wine,
When lo, the twelve Moors were come
On twelve Arab coursers.
And forth withal they reviled Marko: 30
"Thou whore! Kraljević Marko,
Art thou become another ruler over the land,
That thou takest from Moors their slave-girls?"
Kraljević Marko laughed:
"Get ye hence," quoth he, "Moorish children,
That I lay no sin upon my soul because of you."
But the twelve Moors waxed wonderly wroth,
And every each of them drew sword,
And overthrew the tent upon Marko.
They cut through the tent ropes 40
That the tent fell down upon the falcon Marko,
And on his battle-flag that bare the rood,
And upon Sharatz his stout steed.
When Kraljević Marko perceived
That his silken tent was overturned
Marko's wrath blazed up like living fire.
Lightly he leapt to his feet,
And seized great Sharatz.
To horse he sprang behind the damsel,
Three times he girdled her with his girdle,50
And the fourth with his sword-belt.
Then he pulled out his well-forged sword,
And so ran on the Moors.
Not to the white throat he carved them,
But he carved them even to the silken girdle;
One man became two,
Out of twelve Marko made twice so many,
Of twelve Moors he made four and twenty.
And so he passed athwart the level plain,
Like a star athwart a clear sky. 60
Straight to Prilep town he went
To his white manor.
He called Jevrosima his mother:
"Jevrosima," quoth he, "mine aged mother,
Mother, my sweet, dear one,
Behold, mother, my sister-in-God.
Nourish her, mother, as thou hast nourished me.
Give her in marriage as she were thine own daughter,
That in this wise we may gain friends."
Jevrosima, the matron, nourished her, 70
Yea, and gave her in marriage
In Rudnik the white town,
In the great house of Dizdarić
Where were nine fair brethren.
Thence had Marko strong friends,
And oft would he visit his sister-in-God,
As she had been his own born sister,
And there full oft he quaffed the wine-cup.