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Strokes six and thirty of golden maces.
To the good servant they made soft the back,
And when it wearied the hero of fighting,
And his shoulders were grown stiff,
He went weeping into the castle to Marko.
Marko Kraljević said to him:
"Vaistina, my dear child, 40
Wherefore, son, dost thou shed these tears?
Art thou anhungered or art athirst, my son?
If thou art anhungered, here be victuals,
If athirst, lo, here is cool wine.
Shed not these great tears,
For so thou doest despite to my patron saint."
And the servant Vaistina said:
"Lord and master, Kraljević Marko,
Neither am I anhungered nor yet athirst.
Evil have I gotten with the bread that I have eaten,50
And worse evil with the wine that I have drunken
In thy lordly manor, Marko!
Thou sentest me to keep watch and ward,
But who would keep watch and ward for thee?
There came three Turkish Agas
With thirty janissaries with them,
And the three Agas called with a loud voice:
'Giaour, open the gate!
That we may see, witless Giaour,
How Marko celebrateth his Slava.' 60
And in Turkish made I fair answer:
'Open for yourselves, Turkish janissaries!
I dare not open the door,
For I fear my lord and master.'
The Turks recked little enough of that,
They plucked out thirty maces,
They brake down the door of the gate,
And they paid out on to my shoulders,
Strokes six and thirty of golden maces."
When Marko heard these words,70
