When the princess heard this, she reproached Ivan with having gone so far away for a bride, when he could have found in Montenegro itself a much finer maiden whose family would be worthy of an alliance with his own. Prince Ivan was persuaded that he had acted unwisely, and he decided to abandon the betrothal, and forbade his friends to congratulate him.
The Message from the Doge
Nine years elapsed, and it seemed that the betrothal had been forgotten by all, and that the doge’s daughter, having heard nothing from Ivan, had surely wedded another prince. But one day a message from the doge arrived, in which he reproached the Montenegrin prince with having allowed nine years to pass without sending a word to his daughter—who, “from only a bud, had developed into a beauteous rose.” He further requested Ivan to write to his still patient daughter, and to tell her plainly what he had decided with regard to the proposed marriage; for if he did not now deem his son worthy of such a precious maiden, he must at once tell her so, that a prince deserving of her might be found.
The prince was seized with great grief as he read the doge’s message. What could he say or do? After pondering long he sought his princely consort and addressed her in this wise: “O my sweet-eyed darling! I pray you counsel me now what to do! Shall I despatch a message to the maiden and tell her that she is at liberty to seek another in marriage, or how otherwise shall I write?”
The princess was a wise woman, and she advised her husband prudently:[3] “O my lord, thou Tzrnoyevitch Ivo! Has ever any man been counselled by a wife? This has never been and never shall be. For we women have long hair, but little brains. But as thou hast asked for my opinion, I will venture to say that it would be a sin before God, and before the world a shame, to deprive a maiden of happiness by releasing her from a suitably arranged betrothal. Listen to me, dear lord! What an insignificant reason alarms thee! If the small-pox has damaged thy son’s visage, thy distant friends should make allowance for such misfortune resulting from illness—for who is exempt? Furthermore, if thou dreadest a conflict when thou comest to Venice, I would remind thee that thou hast dungeons full of pure golden ducats; in thy cellars there is old wine in abundance; thy granaries are overfilled with wheat and other grain; consequently thou art well able to gather a great number of svats. Thou hast promised the doge to go thither with one thousand svats, but why shouldest thou not take two thousand chosen heroes and equerries with thee? When the Venetians see with how great a force thou journeyest, they will not dare to attack thee, even if thy son were blind. Therefore, gather the svats, and hasten to bring the bride. O my lord, lose no more time in vain musing.” At these bold words, the prince expressed his great satisfaction in a burst of laughter. He immediately inscribed a missive and despatched it by a speedy courier. Its contents ran thus: “O my friend, thou Doge of Venice! Thou could’st hear, if thou didst but listen, the roaring of my thirty cannons, which I am about to fire from my fortress! O friend, do not lose a single moment, but send at once galleys to meet me, my son and all our svats. Farewell!” Ivan then sent to Milosh Obrenbegovitch, inviting him to be the stari-svat and to attend with as many chosen heroes as he could possibly find within the provinces of Antivari and Dulzigno. He wrote also to his cousin, Captain Yovan, inviting him to come to the wedding with as many of his friends as possible. Couriers were sent to other friends, who received Ivan’s invitation gladly, and before long the plain of Zablak was studded with their innumerable tents. One morning Ivan noticed Captain Yovan, the bride’s leader, pacing sadly the ramparts of the castle, and casting frequent glances at the spearmen, equerries and standards in the encampment below. Prince Ivan would not suffer anybody to be unhappy in the midst of his festive preparations, and so asked Captain Yovan the cause of his gloom. Yovan said, that if he might speak of what was lying upon his heart, he would counsel the prince to prepare a great feast for those numberless Montenegrins encamped before his castle, after which couriers should be sent throughout the camp telling all to return home that their fields should not be ruined by neglect. Thus the land would not be deprived of defenders against their persistent foe, the Turk, who might attack the country at any moment while they were away. Then Yovan went on to relate to the prince how the previous night he had seen in a dream the sky suddenly covered with dark clouds; from those clouds a thunderbolt had fallen upon his princely castle and razed every single stone of it to the ground; a fire had then broken out and consumed the beautiful capital Zablak. When the castle fell a tower had struck Maximus but without doing him serious hurt. “Nevertheless,” continued Yovan, “if there be any truth in dreams, Maximus would either perish or be severely wounded in Venice, and if I should be offended by a Venetian, all my followers, five hundred men of Podgoritza, would die in my defence.”
A tower had struck Maximus without doing him serious hurt
Prince Ivan laughed heartily when Yovan had ended, and said that his good friend owed his bad dreams to the fact that his pillows were either too high or too low. Then saying, “dreams are false, but God is true,” he turned away to give orders to fire thirty guns from the fortress as the signal for departure.