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He had not the least sympathy with these childish exhibitions of defiance, which he considered utterly futile and a great waste of time. They did harm to the serious aims and intentions of the Anarchist community, and were often the means of getting quite the wrong people arrested. Daily they were brought there in thousands, dew-drenched and fresh from the gardens of Sária.
To his knights he said: "Thirty years have I ridden in the field and thirty years have I fought with heroes and tested my strength; but such a mighty man as Zidovin have I in all that time never met." Kralewitz Marko was the son of a Servian king who lived many, many years ago. He was very fond of hunting, and one day he rode forth on his horse Saria to the mountain Sargau.
"Non fu sì santo nè benigno Augusto Come la tuba di Virgilio suona: L'aver avuto in poesia buon gusto La proscrizion iniqua gli perdona. Nessun sapria se Neron fosse ingiusto, Nè sua fama saria forse men buona, Avesse avuto e terra e ciel nimici, Se gli scrittor sapea tenersi amici.
Frightened, the Turks fled before them, and Marko and his companions returned to their own country. Marko waited for and soon found the opportunity of showing his gratitude to his friend, for Milos and two of his brothers were thrown into prison in Varadin. Milos wrote with his own blood a letter to Marko, asking for help. Then the king's son sprang to his horse Saria and rode to Varadin.
The doctor?" "No, it was Emile." Vardri nodded towards the communicating door of the bedroom. "Poleski is here then?" "No, and he doesn't know I'm here. He has gone to Sária and will not be back till late. I was horribly irritable this morning, so he thinks I'm all right now." A ripple of amusement broke her voice as their eyes met.
When she saw the king's son she was frightened and ran and told her father-in-law. Then the general sent out his son Velimir with three hundred men to take Marko prisoner. The knights encircled Kralewitz Marko, but he continued drinking his wine and paid no attention to them. But Saria noticed them, and drawing near her master began beating the ground with her hoofs.
Outside of the city he dismounted, stuck his spear in the earth, tied Saria and began drinking the black wine which he had brought with him. He poured it into huge beakers, half of which, he drank himself, and half of which he gave to Saria. At the same time a beautiful maiden, the daughter-in-law of the general, passed by.
"Era si cattivo il concetto, che di lui avevasi in Roma, cioè che fosse stato autore di tutte le torbolenze d'Inghilterra, che era necessario dasse primo segni ben grandi del suo pentimento. Ed in tal caso sarebbe stato ajutato; sebene saria paruto che nelle sue passate resoluzioni se la fosse sempre intesa con Roma."
At this Marko looked up and saw himself surrounded. He emptied his beaker, threw it to the ground, and sprang to his horse. Like a falcon among doves Marko charged against the enemy. He cut off the heads of some and drove the rest before him into the Danube. Velimir tried to flee, but Marko threw him from his horse, tied his hands and feet and bound him to Saria.
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