Marko is Summoned
The messenger set out at once, and, arriving at Prilip, they smote on the portals of the castle. The knocking was heard by Yevrossima, and she spoke thus to her son: “O Marko, my dearest son! who are they who knock at the gates below? They may be messengers from thy father!”
Marko commanded that the gates should be opened, and when the messengers entered they bowed with profoundest respect, and said: “May God always help thee, O noble Lord Marko!”
The Prince laid his hand upon their heads with kindness and said: “Be welcome, ye my dear children! Are the Serbian knights in good health? And is all well with the glorious Tsar and King!”
The couriers again made humble obeisance, saying: “O noble Lord, thou most Royal Prince Marko! All are well, though not, we fear, upon friendly terms together! The King, thy father, and other princes are seriously contending for the Empire upon Kossovo, that vast field which is near the church Samodrezja; they are ready to stab each other at any moment with their blades, for they know not to whom the Empire rightly belongs. Thou art now called upon, O noble Prince, to proclaim the heir to the Imperial crown.”
The bard goes on to narrate how Marko went to Yevrossima and asked her advice, and although it was well known that Marko himself loved the truth, his good mother implored him with the following words: “O Marko, thy mother’s only son! May the food on which thou wert nourished be not cursed! Speak not falsely either to please thy father, or to satisfy the ambitions of thine uncles, but tell, I beg of thee, the truth before God lest thou shouldest lose thy soul. It were better that thou shouldst perish than sin against thy soul!”
Marko took the ancient documents, mounted Sharatz and rode forthwith to the plain of Kossovo. As he approached his father’s tent King Voukashin saw him and exclaimed: “Oh, how fortunate am I! Here is my son Marko; he will say that the Empire was left to me, for of course he knows that it will pass from father to son!”
Marko heard this, but said not one single word, neither would he turn his head towards the King’s tent.
When Despot Ouglesha saw Marko, he spoke in this wise: “Oh, what a lucky thing for me! here is my nephew Marko; he is certain to say the Empire is mine! Say, O Marko, the Empire is mine! We would reign together, you and I, like brothers!” Marko still kept silent and did not even turn his head in the direction of his uncle’s tent.
As Voïvode Goyko perceived his coming, he exclaimed: “Oh, here is a stroke of good fortune for me! here is my dear nephew Marko: he is sure to say that the Empire was left to me. When Marko was a little child I used to caress him fondly, for he was dear to me as a golden apple, and always most precious. Whenever I rode out on horseback I always used to take Marko with me. O Marko! dear Marko, thou must say that the Empire is mine! It will be virtually thou who shalt reign as Tsar, and I shall be at thy right hand, at all times ready, as thy counsellor!” Marko, still without a word, and completely ignoring Voïvode Goyko, went straight on to the tent where Tsarevitch Ourosh was, and there he alighted from his Sharatz.
When the young Ourosh saw him, he sprang from his silken couch, and exclaimed: “Hurrah! Behold my godfather Marko! Now he is going to tell us who the true Tsar is!” They embraced each other, inquired after each other’s health, and seated themselves upon the couch from which Ourosh had just risen.