The Ballads of Marko Kraljević/The Death of Marko Kraljević

The Ballads of Marko Kraljević (1922)
by unknown author, translated by D. H. Low
The Death of Marko Kraljević
Unknown4193716The Ballads of Marko Kraljević — The Death of Marko Kraljević1922D. H. Low

THE DEATH OF MARKO KRALJEVIĆ

Marko Kraljević rode forth early,
On a Sabbath morn before the bright sun,
He rode by the sea shore towards Urvina mountain.
And when Marko was gone up into the mountain,
Behold Sharatz began to stumble,
To stumble, yea, and to shed tears.
Thereat Marko was much grieved,
And he said unto Sharatz:
"What aileth thee, Sharo? What aileth thee, my good steed?
An hundred and sixty years have we been together,10
And never or now hath thy foot failed thee,
But today thou stumblest,
God wot, this bodeth no good thing.
One of us twain will surely lose his head,
Or my head or haply thine."
Thus Marko was discoursing,
When the Vila cried from Urvina mountain,
And called to Kraljević Marko:
"Brother-in-God, Kraljević Marko!
Wouldst thou know, brother, wherefore thy horse stumbleth? 20
Sharatz is heavy for thee, his master,
For soon shall ye be divided."
But Marko answered the Vila:
"White Vila," quoth he, "a plague on thy tongue!
Since that with him I have seen the earth and the cities thereof,
And am gone to and fro from the east unto the west,
Nor found nowhere better horse than Sharatz,
Nor never knight that put me to the worse,
I think not to separate me from Sharatz,
Whilst my head endureth on my shoulders." 30
But the white Vila answered him again,

"Brother-in-God, Kraljević Marko!
Truly none may take Sharatz from thee,
Nor mayst thou be slain, Marko,
By means of might or by sharp sword,
By war-spear or by battle-mace.
Thou fearest no earthly knight,
Yet shalt thou die, Marko,
By the hand of God, that old slayer.
But if thou wilt not believe me, 40
When thou comest to the top of the mountain,
Look about thee from the right hand to the left,
And thou shalt see two slim fir trees
That out-top all the trees of the forest,
And crown the forest with their verdure,
And between them is a well of water;
Do thou ride Sharatz thither,
Light down from him and tie him to a fir tree,
Then bend thee down over the well of water,
And thou shalt see thy face mirrored, 50
And thou shalt know when thou must die."
Marko hearkened unto the Vila,
And when he was come to the top of the mountain,
He looked about him from the right hand unto the left,
And he was ware of two slender fir trees
That out-topped all the trees of the forest,
And crowned it with their verdure.
Thither he steered Sharatz,
And lighting down tied him to a fir tree.
Then he stooped him down over the well of water, 60
And considered his countenance in the water;
And when he had considered his countenance,
He wist well when he should die,
And he shed tears and spake on this wise:
"Deceitful world—thou wert a fair flower to me!
Fair wert thou, but few the years of my sojourn.
Three hundred brief years have I tarried;
The hour now cometh that I must go forth of this world."

Then Marko pulled out his sabre,
From his girdle he pulled out his sabre, 70
He came nigh unto his horse Sharatz,
And with his sabre cut off the head of Sharatz,
That never he should fall into the hands of the Turks,
Nor never be for a slave to them,
Nor bear for them the copper water-pots.
And when Marko had slain Sharatz,
He buried his horse Sharatz,
He buried Sharatz better than he had buried Andrew his brother.
In four pieces he broke his sharp sabre.
Lest the Turks, finding it, 80
Should boast them to have gotten it of Marko,
And so cause Christians to revile him.
And after Marko had broken his sharp sabre,
He brake his war-spear in seven pieces,
And cast them into the fir branches.
Then Marko took his ribbed mace,
In his right hand he took it,
And cast it from Urvina mountain
Into the great grey sea;
And concerning the mace he spake, saying:90
"When my mace shall come up out of the sea,
Another Marko shall appear upon earth!"
And when he had destroyed his weapons,
He drew forth an inkhorn from his girdle,
From his pocket he took unwritten paper,
And therewithal he wrote a letter:
"Whoso Cometh up into Urvina mountain,
Unto the well between the fir trees,
And findeth there the knight Marko,
Let him wit well that Marko is dead, 100
And by Marko there be three purses of gold[1],
Yea, verily of gold, of yellow ducats;
One purse I give to him that findeth me,

That he may bury my body;
Another purse I give for to adorn the churches,
The third I give to the maimed and the blind,
That the blind may go into all the world,
To sing and to celebrate Marko."
When Marko had made an end of writing,
He fixed the letter on a branch of the fir tree,110
Where one might see it from the road.
He cast his golden inkhorn into the well,
He did off his green mantle,
And spread it on the grass beneath the fir trees,
He made the sign of the rood and sate him down on the mantle;
He pulled his sable kalpak over his eyes,
Then laid him down never to rise no more.
By the well lay the dead Marko,
From day and again to day, a week of days,
For whoso by adventure passed that way 120
And was ware of Marko,
He did think ever that Marko surely slept,
And made wide his path round about him,
For fear lest he should wake Marko.
Where good fortune is, there also is evil fortune,
And where evil fortune is, there is good fortune also;
And truly good fortune it was,
That led thither Vaso the Igumen
From white Vilindar church on the Holy Mountain,
With Isaias, his deacon, with him. 130
And when the Igumen was ware of Marko,
With his right hand he beckoned the deacon:
"Softly, my son," quoth he, "lest thou wake him,
For Marko roused from slumber is evil-disposed,
And might well make an end of both of us."
But as the monk looked to see how Marko slept,
He perceived the letter above him,
And heedfully he read it,
And the letter told him that Marko was dead.

Right on that the monk lighted down from his horse, 140
And touched with his hand the worshipful Marko,
But Marko was already long dead.
Vaso, the Igumen, wept tears,
For he was passing heavy because of Marko.
From his girdle he took the three purses of gold,
And girded them about his own middle.
Then Vaso, the Igumen, thought and considered
Where he should bury the dead Marko;
He thought and considered and took resolve,
And he set the dead Marko upon his horse, 150
And so brought him to the sea-shore.
He sate him down in a ship with the dead Marko with him,
And brought him with a straight course to the Holy Mountain
And so to the church of Vilindar.
And he let carry him into the church of Vilindar,
Over Marko he read words meet for the dead,
And in the earth he buried his body,
In the middle church of white Vilindar.
There the old man buried Marko,
But he left no sign thereon,160
That none should know the grave of Marko,
And that his enemies should not revenge them on the dead.

  1. Lit. "three money-belts."