So they issued forth, just thirty bandits, In three companies; in each ten bandits:— By the first ten, lo! he pass’d unheeded; No one moved to interrupt his progress; No one bade him halt, or bade his courser: Each one bent his bow and held his arrow; And Nenad, with courtesy address’d them: “Draw not! draw not! brothers of the forest! God preserve you from the impassion’d longing That impels me now to seek my brother O’er the weary world, a tired one, wandering.” So in peace and undisturb’d he passes; To the next embattled ten advances. All their bows are bent, their arrows ready; And Nenad thus speaks, and passes forward: “Draw not! draw not! brothers of the forest! God preserve you from the impassion’d longing That impels me now to seek my brother O’er the weary world, a tired one, wandering.” So in peace and undisturb’d he passes; To the next embattled ten advances, With their bows all bent, their arrows ready. Then impatient rage the youth possesses, And he rushes on the thirty heroes. Ten his trusty sabre soon has vanquish’d, Ten his steed into the dust has trampled, And the third ten drives he to the forest, To the forest by the frigid water. Then Predrag, the bandit chieftain, heard it. “Help us, now, Predrag! our valiant leader! For there is a brave and unknown warrior: He has overwhelm’d thy valiant comrades.” Swiftly sprung Predrag upon his feet, and Seized his bow, and seized his arrows swiftly; To the ambuscade he straightway hastens: Draws his arrow,—makes his bow-string ready:— Oh! sad destiny! ill-fated arrow! Wing’d by fate, the hero’s heart it pierces! Like a falcon springs Nenad, loud screaming. Loudly scream’d he to his starting courser: “Woe! woe! woe! thou hero of the forest! Brother! brother! woe! the Lord will smite thee! Thy right hand shall be struck dead with palsy; That right hand which sped the arrow forward! Thy right eye shall leap forth from thy forehead; That right eye which saw my heart blood sprinkled! Let the impassion’d longings for a brother Trouble thee as they a brother troubled! O’er the weary world, a lone one, wandering, Now has stumbled on his own perdition!” When Predrag had heard these words unwonted, Lo! he sprung up from the pine, inquiring, “Who art thou, and who thy fathers, hero?” Then the wounded youth thus feebly answer’d: “Ask’st thou who I am, and who my fathers? Wilt thou own me? wilt thou claim my kindred? I am young Nenad—a hapless hero! I had once one venerable mother, And one brother, too, Predrag—one brother: He my elder and my only brother, Whom to seek through all the world I wander Forth, to still my soul’s impassion’d longings; But to-day ’tis ended—and I perish!”