{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/hbs/hbs26.htm","path":"neu/hbs/hbs26.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/hbs/hbs26.htm","text":"Sacred-Texts\u00a0Legends & Sagas\u00a0Index\u00a0Previous\u00a0Next\n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n p. 152\n \n \n \n PRINCE MARKO AND MINA OF KOSTUR\n \n PRINCE MARKO and his mother had sat them down to dine;\n \n On the dry bread they feasted, and they drank the yellow wine.\n \n And unto the prince Marko came letters three that day:\n \n One was from Bajaz\u00e9t the tsar, in white Stamboul that lay;\n \n One from the town of Budim, from the king thereof had come;\n \n And one from Yanko the vo\u00fdvoda, in Sibin that had his home.\n \n The letter from Stamboul city, that was written of the tsar,\n \n To the army summons Marko for the keen Moorish war.\n \n In the letter out of Budim, the second of the three,\n \n The king with the wooers bids him that the groomsman he may be,\n \n That the king may lightly marry the queen of whom he is fain.\n \n The letter from Sibin the city, it beareth a message plain,\n \n That as godfather he shall christen the children of Yanko twain.\n \n | Marko speaks to his mother: | \n| | \u201cMy mother, old art thou; | \n \n Council me, mother, shall I go to the tsar\u2019s army now?\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 153\n \n \n \n Shall I go among the wooers, to marry the king amain?\n \n Or unto Yanko of Sibin, to christen his children twain?\u201d\n \n \u2003His mother speaketh to Marko: \u201cMy little son,\u201d saith she,\n \n \u201cA man goes unto the wooers because of jollity;\n \n As a godfather a man goes forth because of the law of God;\n \n But a man goes to the army because of the fear of the rod.\n \n Go, my son, to the army, for God will hold his hand;\n \n But the Turks, an thou come not thither, they will not understand.\u201d\n \n \u2003Marko obeyed his mother. To the host he marched away;\n \n He took Gol\u00faban the servant; to his mother did he say:\n \n \u2003\u201cHear, mother! Of my fortress do thou early shut the gate,\n \n And when ariseth the morning, do thou throw it open late;\n \n Since with Mina accurst of Kostur at odds am I, and I fear,\n \n Mother, that my white houses the rogue will plunder here.\u201d\n \n \u2003Marko to the tsar\u2019s army with Gol\u00faban the servant went.\n \n On the third evening of the march, when they had pitched the tent,\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 154\n \n \n \n Marko supped, and Gol\u00faban served out the yellow wine.\n \n Marko took up the goblet, and slumber fell on his eyne;\n \n He dropped the cup on the table, but the wine spilled not on the board.\n \n Gol\u00faban the servant waketh him; \u201cPrince Marko,\u201d he saith, \u201cmy lord,\n \n Ere this hast thou gone to the army, but thou hast not slumbered so deep,\n \n | Nor dropped the cup from thy fingers.\u201d | \n| | But Marko started from sleep, | \n \n | And said: | \n| | \u201cGol\u00faban, my servant, thou art faithful, as I deem. | \n \n I closed mine eyes for a little, and I dreamed a wondrous dream.\n \n Exceeding strange was the dream, and exceeding strange the hour.\n \n A tuft of mist blew outward from Kostur the white tower:\n \n The mist enveloped Prilip; in the white mist Mina came.\n \n He will plunder my white houses and burn them with the flame;\n \n Over my mother\u2019s body will he trample with the steed;\n \n My faithful bride upon that tide a captive will he lead;\n \n My horses from the stables, he will drive them all away;\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 155\n \n \n \n The money in my treasury he will carry off that day.\u201d\n \n \u2003To Marko said Gol\u00faban: \u201cFear not, Prince Marko. In sooth,\n \n Good heroes ever dreamed good dreams. Dreams lie, but God is truth.\u201d\n \n \u2003When they were come to Ts\u00e1rigrad,1 the tsar sent forth his host,\n \n Over the blue sea went they forth to the fierce Moorish coast;\n \n And four and forty cities have they ta\u2019en over sea.\n \n They came under Kara Okan, and years they fought there three;\n \n Okan they smote, and never could they storm it in the war.\n \n Marko smote down the Moorish chiefs and bore their heads to the tsar.\n \n The tsar gave bakshish to Marko, and wroth the Turks did it make;\n \n And they came in anger to the tsar, and unto him they spake:\n \n \u2003\u201cTsar Bajaz\u00e9t, this Marko, no hero at all is he;\n \n He cleaveth and bringeth for bakshish the heads of the slain to thee.\u201d\n \n \u2003Marko heard it, and forthwith to the great tsar did he pray:\n \n \u2003\u201cMy father by adoption, to-morrow is the day\n \n Of St. George, my own good patron, and let me, tsar, withdraw\n \n To hold my patron\u2019s festival by custom and by law;\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 156\n \n \n \n And Alil Aga, my brother sworn, likewise do thou release,\n \n That he and I together may drink the wine in peace.\u201d\n \n \u2003The tsar sent forth Prince Marko, for naught else could he do,\n \n To hold his patron\u2019s festival, and released his brother too.\n \n And into the green forest forthwith Prince Marko sped,\n \n Nor far from the tsar\u2019s army his white pavilion spread;\n \n To tipple on dark liquor he sat him on the grass,\n \n And with him Alil Aga, his brother sworn that was.\n \n And the Moorish watch discovered, when the fair daybreak shone,\n \n How forth from the tsar\u2019s army Marko the Prince was gone.\n \n Then shouted all the Moorish watch: \u201cO furious Moors, set on!\n \n The hero on the great gray steed\u2014the terrible is gone!\u201d\n \n The Moors set on, and of the host slew thirty thousand men;\n \n And the tsar wrote a letter unto Prince Marko then:\n \n \u2003\u201cMy good son by adoption, come quickly here again,\n \n For thirty thousand men of mine have been in battle slain!\u201d\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 157\n \n \n \n \u2003But Marko said: \u201cHow then may I come quickly, father mine?\n \n For as yet I have not drunken my fill of the yellow wine,\n \n And much less have I started my holiday to hold.\u201d\n \n \u2003And lo, upon the morrow, when broke the morning cold,\n \n Then shouted all the Moorish watch: \u201cO furious Moors, set on!\n \n The hero on the great gray steed\u2014the terrible is gone!\u201d\n \n The Moors set on, and of the host slew sixty thousand men;\n \n Once more the great Tsar Bajaz\u00e9t wrote to Prince Marko then:\n \n \u2003\u201cMy good son by adoption, come quickly here again,\n \n For sixty thousand men of mine have been in battle slain!\u201d\n \n \u2003But Marko said: \u201cMy father, a little must thou wait;\n \n I have not yet regaled my friends as well befits their state.\u201d\n \n \u2003On the third day shouted the Moorish watch: \u201cO furious Moors, set on!\n \n The hero on the great gray steed\u2014the terrible is gone!\u201d\n \n The Moors set on, and slaughtered an hundred thousand men;\n \n And the tsar wrote a letter unto Prince Marko then:\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 158\n \n \n \n \u2003\u201cBefore God for my foster child thee, Marko, will I own;\n \n Come very quickly, for the Moors my camp have overthrown!\u201d\n \n \u2003Marko mounted on Dapple, he rode to the tsar\u2019s array;\n \n When day broke, the two armies they clashed in the m\u00eal\u00e9e.\n \n When the Moorish watch saw Marko, they cried: \u201cYe Moors, begone!\n \n The hero on the great gray steed\u2014the terrible, comes on!\u201d\n \n Marko smote on the Moorish host; three ways their host he drave.\n \n He slashed throughout one army with the edges of the glaive,\n \n The second of the armies on Dapple he trampled o\u2019er\n \n And herded the third before the tsar. But Marko was wounded sore;\n \n Seventy wounds at the Moors\u2019 hands on Marko\u2019s body there are.\n \n On the tsar\u2019s breast falleth Marko, and to him saith the tsar:\n \n \u2003\u201cMarko, my good foster child, by thy wounds now art thou slain?\n \n Can the doctors with their wrappings recover thee again?\u201d\n \n \u2003Prince Marko then made answer: \u201cNo deadly wounds they are,\n \n And I deem that I shall recover.\u201d And thereupon the tsar\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 159\n \n \n \n Thrust hand into pouch and to him a thousand ducats gave,\n \n That the Prince Marko might go forth his wounds to heal and lave;\n \n And the tsar sends forth two faithful lads, lest Marko the Prince should die.\n \n But Marko sought not a doctor; from inn to inn did he hie,\n \n And ever sought Prince Marko where the best wine was to drain.\n \n Scarce had he drunk his fill thereof, when his wounds were healed again.\n \n \u2003But a fine-written letter to the Prince Marko came,\n \n That his houses all were plundered and ravaged with the flame,\n \n And the body of his mother trampled over by the steed,\n \n And his faithful wife a captive his enemy did lead.\n \n Then Marko mourned and to the tsar, his foster father, said:\n \n \u2003\u201cMy foster father, my white house is ravaged in the raid;\n \n My faithful bride upon this tide a captive do they lead;\n \n Over my mother\u2019s body have they trampled with the steed;\n \n The money in my treasury is stolen from me this day:\n \n Mina of Kostur, he it was who carried it away.\u201d\n \n | The tsar spake comfort: | \n| | \n| p. 160 | \n| | \u201cFoster son, my Marko, do not fear. | \n \n If these thine houses have been burned, I will build thee better here;\n \n Beside my houses and like to mine shall they be built for thee.\n \n If thy gold is stolen, a farmer of my taxes shalt thou be,\n \n And thou shalt gather treasure. If thy wife is led away,\n \n I will give thee a better lady upon the wedding day.\u201d\n \n | Said Marko: | \n| | \u201cMy foster father, glory to thee again! | \n \n When thou buildest the houses for me, orphans will curse me then,\n \n Saying: \u2018This rascal Marko, his houses were burned of late;\n \n Now may these new-built for him be likewise desolate!\u2019\n \n If thou makest me farmer of taxes, till I bind poor, needy men,\n \n I cannot gather the taxes, and orphans will curse me then,\n \n Saying: \u2018This rascal Marko, what gold he had of late\n \n Was stolen; what he hath presently, may it too be desolate!\u2019\n \n To another how wilt thou wed me, while yet my wife doth live?\u2014\n \n Three hundred janissaries I prithee to me give;\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 161\n \n \n \n Forge for them crooked pruning hooks and of slender hoes no lack;\n \n And to white Kostur will I go, if perchance I may win her back.\u201d\n \n \u2003Three hundred janissaries were his at the tsar\u2019s command;\n \n The tsar forged crooked pruning hooks and slender hoes to their hand.\n \n To the three hundred Marko his counsel gave aright:\n \n \u2003\u201cGo, my three hundred brethren; go now to Kostur the white.\n \n When ye are come to Kostur, the Greeks will be merry thus:\n \n \u2018Here are laborers; cheap enow will they tend our vines for us!\u2019\n \n But do ye naught, my brethren. Abide in Kostur the town;\n \n Drink the clear wine and brandy, till thither I come down.\u201d\n \n \u2003The three hundred janissaries they went to Kostur the white,\n \n But Marko to Mount Athos, unto the holy height;\n \n And there he took communion and moreover did confess\n \n For the blood he had shed, then clad him in a black c\u00e1loyer\u2019s1 dress;\n \n He let his beard to the girdle grow, and a monk\u2019s hat put on his head.\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 162\n \n \n \n Then he leaped to the back of Dapple, to Kostur the white he sped.\n \n When he came to Mina of Kostur, there Mina sat to dine,\n \n And Marko\u2019s wife served Mina the cups of yellow wine:\n \n \u2003\u201cIn God\u2019s name, thou black c\u00e1loyer,\u201d did Mina to him say,\n \n \u201cTell me, prithee, where gottest thou the little dapple gray?\u201d\n \n | Prince Marko said: | \n| | \u201cFriend Mina, by the true God do I swear, | \n \n In the fierce Moorish country, with the tsar\u2019s host was I there.\n \n There was a fool, Prince Marko, that dying there I saw,\n \n And I buried him according to our custom and our law.\n \n A gift for his soul\u2019s salvation they gave this steed to me.\u201d\n \n \u2003When Mina of Kostur heard it, he leaped up joyfully,\n \n | And said: | \n| | \u201cNine years have I waited until these tidings came! | \n \n For Marko\u2019s house have I plundered and ravaged with the flame;\n \n His faithful wife have I made a slave, but I would not break her vow,\n \n Black priest, till Marko perished, and thou shalt marry me now!\u201d\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 163\n \n \n \n \u2003Up Marko took the holy book, and thereupon did wed\n \n Mina unto the woman he had ta\u2019en to his own bed.\n \n Then sat they down to speak fair words and drink the yellow wine.\n \n | Said Mina: | \n| | \u201cHearest thou, Y\u00e9litsa, O heart and soul of mine? | \n \n Till now wast thou Marko\u2019s lady; henceforth thou art Mina\u2019s wife!\n \n Go now to the treasure house below, I prithee, soul of my life,\n \n And bring three cups of ducats to give the c\u00e1loyer black.\u201d\n \n \u2003Y\u00e9litsa brought from the treasure three cups of ducats back;\n \n She took not Mina\u2019s money, but Marko\u2019s. A rusty glaive\n \n She brought up with the money, and to the priest she gave:\n \n \u201cHere is for thee, black c\u00e1loyer, a gift for Marko\u2019s sake.\u201d\n \n Marko took up the saber, and looked at it, and spake:\n \n \u2003\u201cMina, the lord of Kostur, is it seemly in thine eyes,\n \n To dance here at thy wedding after the monkish wise?\u201d\n \n \u2003Quoth Mina of Kostur to him: \u201cBlack c\u00e1loyer, to thee\n \n Surely it is permitted. Wherefore should it not be?\u201d\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 164\n \n \n \n \u2003Marko leaped on his nimble feet twice and thrice him about;\n \n The tower\u2019s foundations trembled as he drew the saber out.\n \n He drew the rusty saber, he swung it left and right;\n \n The head from Mina\u2019s shoulders at one stroke did he smite.\n \n From his white throat he shouted: \u201cLord Mina\u2019s days are done;\n \n Ho, all my janissaries! my laborers, come on!\u201d\n \n Three hundred janissaries through Mina\u2019s mansions came;\n \n They plundered his white palace and ravaged it with flame.\n \n Marko brought home his faithful wife and Mina\u2019s horde along,\n \n And went unto white Prilip with chanting and with song.\n \n \n \n Next\n \n \n \n \n \n Footnotes\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 155\n \n \n \n 1 The tsar\u2019s city, Constantinople.\n \n \n \n \n \n p. 161\n \n \n \n 1 Monk of the Greek church; see Byron, Child Harold, ii, 49.","title":"PRINCE MARKO AND MINA OF KOSTUR","type":"page"}