"Anyhow, I'm very glad you've come, for I'm embroidering two waistcoats—one for Uros, the other for Milenko—and my poor eyes are getting rather weak, so you can help me a little with the fine stitching."
"Radonic told me that some of your neighbours are coming to make stakes."
"Are they? My husband did not say anything about it."
After some time, Markovic and his wife, and several other neighbours, made their appearance.
As every man came in, he greeted Milena, and, seeing her alone, asked her where Radonic was. She, like a true Montenegrin, warded off the question by answering with a shrug of her shoulders and in an off-hand way:
"May the devil take him, if I know where he is. I daresay he'll pop up by-and-bye."
Etiquette not only requires a wife to avoid speaking of her husband, but also to eschew him completely when present, just as more northern people ignore entirely the name of certain indispensable articles of clothing.
When all the guests were assembled, and such dainties as roasted Indian-corn, melon, pumpkin and sun-flower seeds were handed round, together with filberts and walnuts, then the bard (the honoured guest) was begged to sing them a song. The improvisatore, stroking his long moustache and twisting its ends upwards that they might not be too much in his way as he spoke, took down his guzla and began to scrape it by way of prelude. This was not, as amongst us, a sign to begin whispered conversation in out of the way corners, or to strike an attitude of bored sentimentality, for everybody listened now with rapt attention.
THE FAITHLESS WIFE.
When Gjuro was about to start for war,
And leave his wife alone within his hall,
He fondly said: "Dear Jeljena, farewell,
My faithful wife; I now hie to the camp,
From whence I hope to come back soon; so for
Thine own sweet sake and mine be true to me."
In haste the wanton woman answered back:
"Go, my loved lord, and God watch over thee."
He had but gone beyond the gate, when she
Took up a jug and went across the field
To fetch fresh water from the fountain there;
And having got unto the grassy glen, she saw
A handsome youth, who had adorned his cap
With flowers freshly culled from terebinth.
And unto him the sprightly wife thus spoke:
"Good day to thee, brave Petar; tell me, pray,
Where hast thou bought those blossoms fresh and fair?"
And he: "God grant thee health, O Gjuro's wife;
They were not got for gold, they are a gift."
Then Jelka hastened back to her own house,
And to her room she called her trusted maid.
"Now list," said she. "Go quick beyond the field
And try to meet young Petar Latkovin;
With terebinth you'll see his cap adorned.
Say unto him: 'Fair youth, to thee I bear
The greetings of good Gjuro's wife, and she
Doth kindly beg that thou wilt sup with her,
And spend the night in dalliance and delight—
And give her one fair flower from thy cap.
The castle hath nine gates; the postern door
Will ope for thee, now Gjuro is far off."
The handmaid forthwith to the fountain sped,
And found the youth. "Good day, my lord," said she.
"Great Gjuro's winsome wife her greetings sends;
She begs that thou will sup with her this night,
And grant her those sweet sprays of terebinth.
Nine gates our manor has; the small side door
Will be left ope for thee, my handsome youth,
As Gjuro is away." Then Petar thanked
And longed that night might come. At dusk, with joy
He to the castle sped. He put his steed
In Gjuro's stall, and then his sword he hung
Just in the place where Gjuro hung his own,
And set his cap where Gjuro placed his casque.
In mirth they supped, and sleep soon closed their eyes;
But, lo! when midnight came, the wife did hear
Her husband's voice that called: "My Jelka dear,
Come, my loved wife, and open quick thy doors."
Distracted with great fear, she from her bed
Sprang down, scarce knowing what to do; but soon
She hid the youth, then let her husband in.
With feigning love she to his arms would fly,
But he arrested her with frowning mien.
"Why didst thou not call quick thy maiden up
To come and ope at once these doors of thine?"
"Sweet lord, believe a fond and faithful wife:
Last night this maid of mine went off in pain
To bed; she suffers from the ague, my lord;
So I was loth, indeed, to call her up."
"If this be true, you were quite right," quoth he;
"Yet I do fear that all thy words are lies."
"May God now strike me dumb, if all I spake
Be aught than truth," said Jeljena at once.
But frowning, Gjuro stood with folded arms:
"Whose is that horse within my stall? and whose
That cap adorned with flowers gay? And there
I see a stranger's sword upon the wall."
"Now listen to thy loving wife, my lord.
Last night a warrior came within thy walls,
And wanted wine, in pledge whereof he left
His prancing steed, his sword, and that smart cap,"
Said Yelka, smiling sweetly to her lord.
And he with lowering looks, then said: "'Tis well,
Provided thou canst swear thou speakest true."
"The Lord may strike me blind," she then replied.
"Why is thy hair dishevelled, and thy cheeks
Of such a pallid hue? now, tell me why?"
And she: "Believe thine honest wife. Last night
As I did walk beneath our orchard trees,
The apple boughs dishevelled thus my hair,
And then I breathed the orange blossom scent,
Until their fragrance almost made me faint."
Now Gjuro's face was fearful to behold,
Still as he frowned he only said: "'Tis well,
But on the holy Cross now take an oath."
"My lord, upon the holy Cross I swear."
"Now give me up the key of mine own room."
Then Jeljena grew ghastly pale with fear,
Still she replied in husky tones: "Last night
As I came from your room the key did break
Within the lock, so now the door is shut."
But he cried out in wrath: "Give me my key,
Or from thy shoulders I shall smite thy head!"
She stood aghast and speechless with affright,
So with his foot he burst at once the door.
There in the room he found young Latkovin.
"Now, answer quick: Didst thou come here by strength,
Or by her will?" The youth a while stood mute,
Not knowing what to say. But looking up:
"Were it by mine own strength," he then replied,
"Beyond the hills she now would be with me;
If I am here, 'tis by her own free will."
Then standing straight, with stern and stately mien,
Unto the youth he said, in scornful tones:
"Hence, get thee gone!" Now, when they were alone,
He glanced askance upon his guilty wife
With loathsomeness and hatred in his eyes:
"Now, tell me of what death thou'lt rather die—
By having all thy bones crushed in a mill?
Or being trodden down 'neath horses' hoofs?
Or flaring as a torch to light a feast?"
She, for a trice, nor spake, nor moved, nor breathed,
But stood as if amazed and lost in thought;
Then, waking up as from some frightful dream:
"I am no corn to be crushed in a mill,
Or stubble grass for steeds to tread upon;
If I must die, then, like unto a torch,
Let me burn brightly in thy banquet hall."
In freezing tones the husband spake and said:
"Be it, then, as you list," and thereupon
He made her wear a long white waxen gown.
Then, in his hall, he bound her to a pyre,
And underneath he piled up glowing coals,
So that the flame soon rose and reached her knees.
With tearful eyes and a heartrending cry:
"Oh! Gjuro mine, take pity on my youth;
Look at my feet, as white as winter snow;
Think of the times they tripped about this hall
In mazy dance; let not my feet be scorched."
To all her prayers he turned a ruthless ear,
And only heaped more wood on the pile.
The lambent flames now leapt up to her hands,
And she in anguish and in dreadful dole
Cried out: "Oh! show some mercy on my youth;
Just see my hands—so soft, so small, so smooth—
Let not these scathful flames now scorch my hands.
Have pity on these dainty hands of mine,
That often lifted up thy babe to thee."
Her words awoke no pity in his heart,
That seemed to have become as cold as clay;
He only heaped up coals upon the pile,
Like some fell demon who had fled from hell.
The forked lurid tongues rose up on high,
Like slender fiery snakes that sting the flesh,
And, leaping up, they reached her snowy breast.
"Oh! Gjuro," she cried out, "for pity's sake
Have mercy on my youth; torment me not.
Though I was false to thee, let me not die.
See how these fearful flames deflower these breasts—
The fountain that hath fed thine infant's life—
See, they are oozing o'er with drops of milk."
But Gjuro's eyes were blind, his ears were deaf;
A viper now was coiled around his heart,
That urged him to heap up the pile with wood.
The rising flames began to blind her eyes;
Still, ere the fearful smoke had choked her breath,
She cast on Gjuro one long loving glance,
And craved, in anguish, mercy on her youth:
"Have pity on my burning eyes, and let
Me look once more upon my little child."
To all her cries his cruel soul was shut;
He only fanned and fed the fatal flame,
Until the faithless wife was burnt to death.