BROTHERS three combined to build a fortress,
Brothers three, the brothers Mrljavchēvich,
Kral {64b} Vukāshin was the eldest brother;
And the second was Uglēsha-Voivode; {64c}
And the third, the youngest brother, Goiko.
Pull three years they labour’d at the fortress,
Skadra’s fortress on Bojana’s river;
Full three years three hundred workmen labour’d.
Vain th’ attempt to fix the wall’s foundation.
Vainer still to elevate the fortress:
Whatsoe’er at eve had raised the workmen
Did the Vila raze ere dawn of morning.
When the fourth year had begun its labours,
Lo! the Vila from the forest-mountain
Call’d—“Thou King Vukashin! vain thine efforts!—
Vain thine efforts—all thy treasures wasting!
Never, never wilt thou build the fortress,
If thou find not two same-titled beings,
If thou find not Stojan and Stojana: {65}
And these two—these two young twins so loving,
They must be immured in the foundation.
Thus alone will the foundations serve thee:
Thus alone can ye erect your fortress.”
When Vukashin heard the Vila’s language,
Soon he call’d to Dēssimir, his servant:
“Listen, Dessimir, my trusty servant!
Thou hast been my trusty servant ever;
Thou shalt be my son from this day onward.
Fasten thou my coursers to my chariot:
Load it with six lasts of golden treasures:
Travel through the whole wide world, and bring me,
Bring me back those two same-titled beings:
Bring me back that pair of twins so loving:
Bring me hither Stojan and Stojana:
Steal them, if with gold thou canst not buy them.
Bring them here to Scadra or Bojana:
We’ll inter them in the wall’s foundation:
So the wall’s foundations will be strengthened:
So we shall build up our Scadra’s fortress.”
Dessimir obey’d his master’s mandate;
Fasten’d, straight, the horses to the chariot;
Fill’d it with six lasts of golden treasures;
Through the whole wide world the trusty servant
Wander’d—asking for these same-named beings—
For the twins—for Stojan and Stojana:
Full three years he sought them,—sought them vainly:
Nowhere could he find these same-named beings:
Nowhere found he Stojan and Stojana.
Then he hasten’d homewards to his master;
Gave the king his horses and his chariot;
Gave him his six lasts of golden treasures:
“Here, my sov’reign, are thy steeds and chariot:
Here thou hast thy lasts of golden treasures:
Nowhere could I find those same-named beings:
Nowhere found I Stojan and Stojana.”
When Vukashin had dismiss’d his servant,
Straight he call’d his builder, master Rado.
Rado call’d on his three hundred workmen;
And they built up Scadra on Bojana;
But, at even did the Vila raze it:
Vainly did they raise the wall’s foundation;
Vainly seek to build up Scadra’s fortress.
And the Vila, from the mountain-forest,
Cried, “Vukashin, listen! listen to me!
Thou dost spill thy wealth, and waste thy labour:
Vainly seek’st to fix the wall’s foundations;
Vainly seek’st to elevate the fortress.
Listen now to me! Ye are three brothers:
Each a faithful wife at home possesses:—
Her who comes to-morrow to Bojana,
Her who brings the rations to the workmen—
Her immure within the wall’s foundations:—
So shall the foundations fix them firmly:
So shalt thou erect Bojana’s fortress.”
When the king Vukashin heard the Vila,
Both his brothers speedily he summon’d:
“Hear my words, now hear my words, my brothers!
From the forest-hill the Vila told me,
That we should no longer waste our treasures
In the vain attempt to raise the fortress
On a shifting, insecure foundation.
Said the Vila of the forest-mountain,
‘Each of you a faithful wife possesses;
Each a faithful bride that keeps your dwellings:
Her who to the fortress comes to-morrow,
Her who brings their rations to the workmen—
Her immure within the wall’s foundations;
So will the foundations bear the fortress:
So Bojana’s fortress be erected.’
Now then, brothers! in God’s holy presence
Let each swear to keep the awful secret;
Leave to chance whose fate ’twill be to-morrow
First to wend her way to Skadra’s river.”
And each brother swore, in God’s high presence,
From his wife to keep the awful secret.
When the night had on the earth descended,
Each one hasten’d to his own white dwelling;
Each one shared the sweet repast of evening;
Each one sought his bed of quiet slumber.
Lo! there happen’d then a wond’rous marvel!
First, Vukashin on his oath he trampled,
Whisp’ring to his wife the awful secret:
“Shelter thee! my faithful wife! be shelter’d!
Go not thou to-morrow to Bojana!
Bring not to the workmen food to-morrow!
Else, my fair! thy early life ’twill cost thee:
And beneath the walls they will immure thee!”
On his oath, too, did Uglesha trample!
And he gave his wife this early warning:
“Be not thou betray’d, sweet love! to danger!
Go not thou to-morrow to Bojana!
Carry not their rations to the workmen!
Else in earliest youth thy friend might lose thee:
Thou might’st be immured in the foundation!”
Faithful to his oath, young Goiko whisper’d
Not a breath to warn his lovely consort.
When the morning dawn’d upon the morrow,
All the brothers roused them at the day-break,
And each sped, as wont, to the Bojana.
Now, behold! two young and noble women;
They—half-sisters—they, the eldest sisters—
One is bringing up her snow-bleach’d linen,
Yet once more in summer sun to bleach it.
See! she comes on to the bleaching meadows;
There she stops—she comes not one step farther.
Lo! the second, with a red-clay pitcher;
Lo! she comes—she fills it at the streamlet;
There she talks with other women—lingers—
Yes! she lingers—comes not one step farther.
Goiko’s youthful wife at home is tarrying,
For she has an infant in the cradle
Not a full moon old, the little nursling:
But the moment of repast approaches;
And her aged mother then bestirs her;
Fain would call the serving maid, and bid her
Take the noon-tide meal to the Bojana.
“Nay, not so!” said the young wife of Goiko;
“Stay, sit down in peace, I pray thee, mother!
Rock the little infant in his cradle:
I myself will bear the food to Scadra.
In the sight of God it were a scandal,
An affront and shame among all people,
If, of three, no one were found to bear it.”
So she staid at home, the aged mother,
And she rock’d the nursling in the cradle.
Then arose the youthful wife of Goiko;
Gave them the repast, and bade them forward.
Call’d around her all the serving maidens;
When they reach’d Bojana’s flowing river,
They were seen by Mrljavchevich Goiko,
On his youthful wife, heart-rent, he threw him;
Flung his strong right arm around her body;
Kiss’d a thousand times her snowy forehead:
Burning tears stream’d swiftly from his eyelids,
As he spoke, in melancholy language:
“O my wife, my own! my full heart’s-sorrow!
Didst thou never dream that thou must perish?
Why hast thou our little one abandoned?
Who will bathe our little one, thou absent?
Who will bare the breast to feed the nursling?”
More, and more, and more, he fain would utter;
But the king allow’d it not. Vukashin,
By her white hand seizes her, and summons,
Master Rado,—he the master-builder;
And he summons his three hundred workmen.
But the young-espoused one smiles, and deems it
All a laughing jest,—no fear o’ercame her.
Gathering round her, the three hundred workmen
Pile the stones and pile the beams about her.
They have now immured her to the girdle.
Higher rose the walls and beams, and higher;
Then the wretch first saw the fate prepared her,
And she shriek’d aloud in her despairing;
In her woe implored her husband’s brothers:
“Can ye think of God?—have ye no pity?
Can ye thus immure me, young and healthful?”
But in vain, in vain were her entreaties;
And her brothers left her thus imploring.
Shame and fear succeeded then to censure,
And she piteously invoked her husband:
“Can it, can it be, my lord and husband,
That so young, thou, reckless, would’st immure me?
Let us go and seek my aged mother:
Let us go—my mother she is wealthy:
She will buy a slave,—a man or woman,
To be buried in the walls’ foundations.”
When the mother-wife—the wife and mother,
Found her earnest plaints and prayers neglected,
She address’d herself to Neimar {74} Rado:
“In God’s name, my brother, Neimar Rado,
Leave a window for this snowy bosom,
Let this snowy bosom heave it freely;
When my voiceless Jovo shall come near me,
When he comes, O let him drain my bosom!”
Rado bade the workmen all obey her,
Leave a window for that snowy bosom,
Let that snowy bosom heave it freely
When her voiceless Jovo shall come near her,
When he comes, he’ll drink from out her bosom.
Once again she cried to Neimar Rado,
“Neimar Rado! in God’s name, my brother!
Leave for these mine eyes a little window,
That these eyes may see our own white dwelling,
When my Jovo shall be brought towards me,
When my Jovo shall be carried homeward.”
Rado bade the workmen all obey her,
Leave for those bright eyes a little window,
That her eyes may see her own white dwelling,
When they bring her infant Jovo to her,
When they take the infant Jovo homeward.
So they built the heavy wall about her,
And then brought the infant in his cradle,
Which a long, long while his mother suckled.
Then her voice grew feeble—then was silent:
Still the stream flow’d forth and nursed the infant:
Full a year he hung upon her bosom;
Still the stream flow’d forth—and still it floweth. {75a}
Women, when the life-stream dries within them,
Thither come—the place retains its virtue—
Thither come, to still their crying infants. {75b}