butalsoinquicknessofwitandthegiftofwords.Theyouthswho,atweddings
ormeetings,soughttowinherbycheapflatteryorembarrassherbydaringjests,
knewthiswell.Herwitwasnolessthanherbeauty.Therefore,inthesongabout
FatathedaughterofAvdaga(songsaboutsuchexceptionalbeingsspringupof
themselvesspontaneously)itwassung:
'Thouartwiseasthouartlovely,LovelyFataAvdagina...'
So they sang and spoke in the town, but there were very few who had the
couragetoaskforthehandofthegirlfromVeljeLug.Andwhentheyhadone
and all been rejected, a sort of vacuum was created about Fata, an enchanted
circle, made of hatred and envy, of unacknowledged desires and of malicious
expectation,suchacircleasalwayssurroundsbeingswithexceptionalgiftsand
an exceptional destiny. Such persons, of whom much is said and sung, are
rapidly borne away by that especial destiny of theirs and leave behind them,
insteadofalifefulfilled,asongorastory.
Thusitoftenhappensamongstusthatagirlwhoismuchspokenofremainsfor
that very reason without suitors and 'sits out', whereas girls who in no way
measureuptohermarryquicklyandeasily.ThiswasnotdestinedforFata,fora
suitorwasfoundwhohadtheaudacitytodesireherandtheskillandendurance
toattainhisends.
In that irregular circle formed by the Višegrad valley, exactly on the opposite
sidefromVeljeLug,laythehamletofNezuke.
Above the bridge, not quite an hour's walk upstream, amid that circle of dark
mountainswhence,asfromawall,theDrinabreaksoutinasuddencurve,there
was a narrow strip of good and fertile land on the stony river bank. This was
formed by the deposits brought down by the river and by the torrents which
camedownfromtheprecipitousslopesoftheButkovoRocks.Onitwerefields
and gardens and, above them, steep meadows with sparse grass which lost
themselves on the slopes in rugged stone crops and dark undergrowth. The
wholehamletwasthepropertyoftheHamzićfamily,whowerealsoknownby
thenameofTurković.Ononehalflivedfiveorsixfamiliesofserfsandonthe
other were the houses of the Hamzić brothers, with Mustajbeg Hamzić at their
head. The hamlet was remote and exposed, without sun but also without wind,
richerinfruitandhaythaninwheat.Surroundedandshutinonallsidesbysteep
hills, the greater part of the day it was in shadow and in silence, so that every calloftheshepherdsandeverymovementofthecowbellswasheardasaloud
and repeated echo from the hills. One path only led to it from Višegrad. When
one crossed the bridge coming from the town and left the main road which
turned to the right down river, one came upon a narrow stone track to the left
across a patch of waste and stony ground up the Drina along the water's edge,
likeawhiteselvedgeonthedarkslopeswhichrandowntotheriver.Amanon
horseoronfootgoingalongthatpath,whenseenfromthebridgeabove,seemed
asifheweregoingalonganarrowtreetrunkbetweenthewaterandthestone, andhisreflectioncouldbeseenfollowinghiminthecalmgreenwaters.
ThatwasthepathwhichledfromthetowntoNezuke;andfromNezukethere
was no way on, for there was nowhere to go. Above the houses, in the steep
slopesovergrownwithsparseforest,twodeepwhitewatercourseshadbeencut,
up which the shepherds climbed when they took the cattle to their mountain
pastures.
TherewasthegreatwhitehouseoftheeldestHamzić,Mustajbeg.Itwasinno
waysmallerthantheOsmanagićhouseatVeljeLug,butitwasdifferentinthatit
was completely invisible in that hollow alongside the Drina. Around it grew
fifteen tall poplars in a semicircle, whose murmur and movement gave life to
thatspotsoshutinanddifficultofaccess.Belowthishousewerethesmallerand
humblerhousesoftheremainingpairofHamzićbrothers.AlltheHamzićshad
manychildrenandallwerefair-skinned,tallandslender,taciturnandreserved,
Like all the richer people at Velje Lug, they too had their shops in the town
where they brought for sale everything that they produced at Nezuke. At all
timesoftheyear,theyandtheirserfsswarmedandclimbedlikeantsalongthat
narrow stony track beside the Drina bringing produce to the town or returning,
theirbusinessconcluded,withmoneyintheirpockets,totheirinvisiblevillage
amongthehills.
MustajbegHamzić'sgreatwhitehouseawaitedthevisitorasapleasantsurprise
at the end of that stony track that seemed as if it led nowhere. Mustajbeg had
fourdaughtersandoneson,Nail.ThisNailbegofNezuke,onlysonofanoble
family,wasamongthefirsttocastaneyeonFataofVeljeLug.Hehadadmired
herbeautyatsomeweddingorotherthroughahalf-openeddoor,outsidewhicha
groupofyoungmenhadbeenhanginglikeabunchofgrapes.Whenhenexthad
thechanceofseeingher,surroundedbyagroupofherfriends,hehadessayeda
daringjest:
'MayGodandMustajbeggiveyouthenameofyoungbride!'
Fatagaveastifledgiggle.
'Do not laugh,' said the excited youth through the narrow opening of the door,
'eventhatmarvelwilltakeplaceoneday.'
'It will indeed, when Velje Lug comes down to Nezuke!' replied the girl with
anotherlaughandaproudmovementofherbody,suchasonlywomenlikeher
andofheragecanmake,andwhichsaidmorethanherwordsandherlaugh.
Itisthusthatthosebeingsespeciallygiftedbynatureoftenprovoketheirdestiny,
boldlyandthoughtlessly.HerreplytoyoungHamzićwasrepeatedfrommouth
tomouth,aswaseverythingelsethatshesaidordid.
ButtheHamzićswerenotmentobeputoffordiscouragedatthefirstdifficulty.
Evenwhenitwasaquestionofminormatters,theydidnotcometoaconclusion
hastily so how much less in such a question as this. An attempt made through
some relations in the town had no better success. But then old Mustajbeg
Hamzićtookintohisownhandsthematterofhisson'smarriage.Hehadalways
hadcommonbusinessdealingswithOsmanagić.Avdagahadrecentlyhadsome
serious losses, due to his explosive and proud character, and Mustajbeg had
helpedhimandsupportedhimasonlygoodmerchantscanhelpandsupportone
anotherindifficultmoments;simply,naturallyandwithoutunnecessarywords.
In these cool half-lit shops and on the smooth stone benches before them were
settled not only matters of commercial honour but also human destinies. What
happened there between Avdaga Osmanagić and Mustajbeg Hamzić, how did
MustajbegcometoaskforthehandofFataforhisonlysonNail,andwhydid
theproudandupri
ghtAvdaga'give'thegirl?Noonewilleverknow.Noonewill
everknoweitherexactlyhowthematterwasthrashedoutupthereatVeljeLug
between the father and his lovely only daughter. There could, naturally, be no
questionofanyoppositiononherpart.Onelookfilledwithpainedsurpriseand
thatproudandinbornmovementofherwholebody,andthenmutesubmission
toherfather'swishes,asitwasandstilliseverywhereandalwaysamongstus.
Asifinadream,shebegantoair,tocompleteandtoarrangehertrousseau.
Nor did a single word from Nezuke filter out to the outer world. The prudent
Hamzićsdidnotaskothermentoconfirmtheirsuccessesinemptywords.They
had achieved their wish and, as always, were content with their success. There
wasnoneedofanyoneelsetoshareintheirsatisfaction,evenastheyhadnever
askedforsympathyintheirfailuresandtheirmisfortunes.
Butnonethelesspeopletalkedofthiswidelyandunthinkingly,asisthehabitof
men. It was told throughout the town and the country around that the Hamzićs
had got what they wanted, and that the lovely, proud and clever daughter of
Avdaga,forwhomnosuitorgoodenoughhadbeenfoundinallBosnia,hadbeen
outplayedandtamed;thatnonetheless'VeljeLugwouldcometoNezuke'even
though Fata had publicly proclaimed that it would not. For people love to talk
aboutthedownfallandhumiliationofthosewhohavebeenexaltedtoomuchor
haveflowntoohigh.
For a month the people savoured the event and drank in tales of Fata's
humiliationlikesweetwater.ForamonththeymadepreparationsatNezukeand
atVeljeLug.
ForamonthFataworkedwithherfriends,herrelationsandherservantsonher
trousseau.Thegirlssang.Shetoosang.Sheevenfoundstrengthtodothat.And
she heard herself singing, though she still thought her own thoughts. For with
every stroke of her needle she told herself that neither she nor her needlework
wouldeverseeNezuke.Sheneverforgotthisforaninstant.Only,thusworking
and thus singing, it seemed to her that it was a long way from Velje Lug to
Nezuke and that a month was a long time. At night it was the same. At night
when, with the excuse that she had some work to finish, she remained alone
there opened before her a world rich and full of light, of joyful and unlimited
change.
AtVeljeLugthenightswerewarmandfresh.Thestarsseemedlowanddancing,
asthoughboundtogetherbyawhiteshimmeringradiance.Standingbeforeher
window, Fata looked out at the night. Through all her body she felt a calm
strength, overflowing and sweet, and every part of her body seemed a special
sourceofstrengthandjoy,herlegs,herhips,herarms,herneckandaboveall
herbreasts.Herbreasts,fullandlargebutfirm,touchedtheframeofthewindow
withtheirnipples.Andinthatplaceshefeltthewholehillsidewithallthatwas
on it, houses, outbuildings, fields, breathing warmly, deeply, rising and falling
with the shining heavens and the expanse of the night. With that breathing the
wooden frame of the window rose and fell, touching the tips of her breasts,
leavingthemoncemoreforsomevastdistanceandthenreturningonceagainto
touchthem,thenrisingandfallingagainandagain.
Yes,theworldwasgreat,theworldwaslimitlessevenbydaywhenthevalleyof
Višegradquiveredintheheatandonecouldalmosthearthewheatripeningand
whenthewhitetownwasstrungoutalongthegreenriver,framedbythestraight
linesofthebridgeandthedarkmountains.Butatnight,onlyatnight,theskies
grew alive and burst open into infinity and the power of that world where a
livingbeingislost,andhasnolongerthesenseofwhatheis,whereheisgoing
orwhathewishesorwhathemustdo.Onlythereonelivedtruly,serenelyand
forlong;inthatspacetherewerenolongerwordsthatboundonetragicallyfor
one'swholelife,nolongerfatefulpromisesorsituationsfromwhichonecould
not escape, with the brief time that flows and flows onward inexorably, with
death or shame as the only outcome. Yes, in that space it was not as it is in everydaylife,wherewhathasoncebeensaidremainsirrevocableandwhathas
been promised inescapable. There everything was free, endless, nameless and
mute.
Then, from somewhere below her, as from afar, could be heard a heavy, deep
andstifledsound:
A-a-a-aah,kkkh...A-a-a-aaah...kkkkh!'
Down on the ground floor Avdaga was struggling with his nightly attack of
coughing.
Sheheardthesoundandcouldseeherfatherclearly,almostasifhewerethere
before her, as he sat and smoked, sleepless and tormented by his cough. She
could see his big brown eyes, as well known as a dear landscape, eyes which
werejustlikeherown,savethattheywereshadowedbyoldageandbathedina
tearful yet laughing shimmer, eyes in which for the first time she had seen the
inevitabilityofherfateonthatdayshewastoldthatshehadbeenpromisedto
Hamzićandthatshemustfinishherpreparationswithinamonth.
'Kkha,kkha,kkha,Aaaaah!'
Thatecstasyofamomentbeforeatthebeautyofthenightandthegreatnessof
theworldwassuddenlyextinguished.Thatperfumedbreathoftheearthceased.
The girl's breasts tightened in a brief spasm. The stars and the expanse
disappeared.Onlyfate,hercruelandirrevocablefateontheeveofitsrealization
wasbeingcompletedandaccomplishedasthetimepassedinthestillnessofthat
immobilityandthatvoidwhichremainedbeyondtheworld.
Thesoundofcoughingechoedfromthefloorbelow.
Yes,shebothsawandheardhimasifhewerestandingbesideher.Thatwasher
own dear, powerful, only father with whom she had felt herself to be one,
indivisiblyandsweetly,eversinceshehadbeenconsciousofherownexistence.
Shefeltthatheavyshatteringcoughasifithadbeeninherownbreast.Intruthit
hadbeenthatmouththathadsaidyeswhereherownhadsaidno.Butshewasat
onewithhimineverything,eveninthis.Thatyesofhisshefeltasifitwereher
own (even as she felt too her own no). Therefore her fate was cruel, unusual,
immediate,andthereforeshesawnoescapefromitandcouldseenone,fornone
existed.Butonethingsheknew.Becauseofherfather'syes,whichboundheras
muchasherownno,shewouldhavetoappearbeforethe kadi withMustajbeg's
son, for it was inconceivable to think that Avdaga Osmanagić did not keep his word. But she knew too, equally well, that after the ceremony her feet would
never take her to Nezuke, for that would mean that she had not kept her own
word.Thattoowasinconceivable,forthattoowasthewordofanOsmanagić.
There, on that point of no return, between her no and her father's yes, between Velje
Lug and Nezuke, somewhere in that most inescapable impasse, she must
findawayout.Thatwasallshethoughtofnow.Nolongertheexpansesofthe
greatrichworld,noteventhewholeroutefromVeljeLugtoNezuke,butonly
thatshortandpitifullittlescrapofroadwhichledfromthecourthouseinwhich
the kadi would marry her to Mustajbeg's son, as far as the end of the bridge wherethestonyslopeleddowntothenarrowtrackwhichledtoNezukeandon
which, she knew for a certainty, she would never set foot. Her thoughts flew
incessantlyupanddownthatlittlescrapofroad,fromoneendtotheother,likea
shuttle through the weave. They would fly from the courthouse, across the
marketplacetotheendofthebridge,tohaltthereasbeforeanimpassableabyss,
and then back across the bridge, across the marketplace to the courthouse.
Always thus; back and forward, forward and back! There her destiny was
woven.
Andthosethoughtswhichcouldneitherremainstillnorwereabletofindaway
out, more and more often halted at the kapia, on that lovely and
shining sofa, where the townspeople sat in conversation and the young men
sang, and beneath which roared the deep swift green waters of the river. Then,
horrifiedatsuchawayofescape,theywouldflyonceagain,asifunderacurse,
fromoneendofthejourneytotheotherand,withoutfindinganyothersolution,
would stop there once again on the kapia. Every night her thoughts more and moreoftenhaltedthereandremainedtherelonger.Theverythoughtofthatday,
wheninfactandnotonlyinherthoughtsshemustgoalongthatwayandfind
her way out before she reached the end of the bridge, brought with it all the
terror of death or the horror of a life of shame. It seemed to her, helpless and forsaken, that the very terror of that thought must remove or at least postpone
thatday.
Butthedayspassed,neitherfastnorslow,butregularandfatefulandwiththem
cameatlastthedayofthewedding.
OnthatlastThursdayinAugust(thatwasthefatefulday)theHamzićscameon
horsebackforthegirl.Coveredwithaheavynewblackveil,asifunderasuitof