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"Hear ye, my dear brothers!
Do ye fall on the flanks of the host
And on the centre will I set on myself."
Dear God, great marvel it was!
A thing worthy indeed to be seen of any man,
How Vojvoda Momčilo hewed about him,
How he brake him a passage down the hillside;180
The horse Jabučilo trampled down more men
Than Momčilo cut down with the sharp sword.
Yet evil fortune met him in the way,
For as he pressed towards Pirlitor,
There met him nine black horses
But of his brothers on them there was not one.
And when Vojvoda Momčilo perceived it,
The hero's heart brake
With grief for his born brothers;
His white hands grew feeble, 190
He might wield the sword no more;
Therefore he smote the horse Jabučilo,
With boot and spur he smote him,
For to make him fly to Castle Pirlitor.
But the good steed might not fly,
And Vojvoda Momčilo cursed him:
"Jabučilo, may wolves devour thee!
In sport we have flown from here together,
Not urged by need, but out of joy of heart,
And today thou wilt not fly!" 200
The brave steed whinnied and made answer:
"Lord and master Vojvoda Momčilo,
Curse me not neither urge me onward;
Today I cannot fly:
May God slay thy Vidosava!
She burned up my wings with fire,
And what with fire she could not utterly destroy
That she bound fast about my knees;
Flee thou, therefore, whithersoever thou mayst."
When Vojvoda Momčilo heard this,210
