The Bridge on the Drina - PDFDrive.com Page 17

  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,

  butwellabletoholdtheirowninbusiness,unitedandactiveinalltheiraffairs.

  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