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Shega and Vllastar
This Italo-Albanian legend evinces
the motif of the reunification of brother and sister, which exist
in several variations in Albanian and Balkan folklore. Action
in this version takes place in Koron, now Koroni in the Morea
(Peloponnese), under Ottoman rule. A maiden, called Shega, meaning
'pomegranate,' is kidnapped by an Ottoman janissary called Vllastar,
meaning 'sprout, scion' from Greek 'Vlastari,' who is intent
on having her for himself. Behind the tale is no doubt an incest
taboo. At the last moment, the voice of a bird is heard from
outside the tent, as a supernatural signal of doom, causing the
officer to realise that the maiden is actually his  long-lost
sister. In some versions it is thunder and lightning, hail or
rain in the form of blood which prevents the act of incest from
taking place. In yet other versions, the underlying motif of
incest is censored and suppressed completely, making the tale
rather incomprehensible. The legend also exists in Slavic (Bulgarian,
Macedonian, Serbian and Croatian) and in Greek versions. Here
is a short prose rendition of the best known Albanian variant:
It was spring and the sun was shining
with renewed strength. No Turks were to be seen outside the walls
of Koron on that festive day during which, according to an ancient
custom, the doors and thresholds of the houses were decorated
with flowers and greenery.
A pretty young maiden strolled out of
the town to pick flowers on the Plain of Koron. Singing a song
of sorrow in her faint and delicate voice, she stooped to gather
the flowers.
The Turks had destroyed everything when
they passed through her native village. They had put the whole
village to the flames and carried off her little brother. No
one knew what had become of him. Her father had not been in the
village at the time for he was off fighting in Scanderbeg's army.
Shega's uncle had taken her and seven other children up to the
mountains to escape the war. But when the Turks arrived there,
too, he returned down into the valley with his companions to
do battle. Shega continued alone from peak to peak trying to
escape the carnage. In the end, she arrived back in Koron where
she had relatives. This town had been attacked by the Turks many
times. They had left many dead in their path, had disappeared,
attacked other towns and then suddenly turned up again outside
the walls. What would happen tomorrow? Would she ever see the
land of her birth again?
Climbing slowly up into the hills, the
maiden sang her song of sorrow and picked the flowers. As the
sun set, she tied them into a bouquet. When she noticed that
it was getting dark, she turned, and with the bouquet of flowers
in her arms, hurried back down to Koron. All of a sudden, a Turkish
horseman appeared before her, seized her by the hair and forced
her onto his horse. The flowers fell from her grasp to be trampled
by the horse as it sped off. Nature took pity on the screaming
maiden, but the Turk did not.
He took her to his commander, a handsome,
not as rough looking young man who wore a knife in his belt and
a sword at his side. He forced the maiden into his tent and stared
at her with eager eyes. He watched her for a long time and then
made his approach. She stepped back into the corner, glaring
at him fiercely.
There was a bright moon shining that
night. Circling the tent above was a black bird which spoke in
a human voice, "What a bird of misfortune I am. A brother
is about to kiss his sister!" This the black bird repeated
two or three times.
Coming even closer to the maiden, the
Turk went pale. "Keep away from me, you bastard!" she
shouted in Albanian. The Janissary froze and asked, "Are
you Albanian?" "Yes," she replied, "how do
you know our language?" He gave no reply, but after a while
inquired again, "What family do you come from?" "I
am from the clan of the Mirditas, a clan of horsemen and warriors."
"Did you have a brother?" "Yes, I had a brother,
but the Turks captured him when he was little and made him a
Janissary. And now misfortune has placed me in your hands."
"What was your brother's name?" "He was called
Vllastar," she replied. The Janissary clapped his hands
and exclaimed, "Then you are my sister Shega! I am Vllastar,
your brother!" The two then embraced and wiped away the
tears of joy which were streaming down their cheeks.
Vllastar asked his sister, "Where
is our mother now, Shega?" "Mother died in the flames
when the Turks burnt down our house." "And what became
of our father?" "Father was fighting in Scanderbeg's
army when the Turks attacked and razed everything to the ground.
He is still with them to avenge us. If you were to come to Albania,
you might stand eye to eye with him. You would do battle and
kill one another. You are no Albanian. You have become a foreigner."
"No," exclaimed Vllaster, "I was an Albanian and
still am! We will never do battle with one another but fight
shoulder to shoulder to free our native land." He whistled
and five other Janissaries entered the tent, all as huge as oak
trees, girded with daggers and bearing sword in hand. "You
summoned us, my lord?" they asked. "Yes, brothers,"
said Vllastar, "come over here. Do you recognize this maiden?"
"No, my lord, we don't." "This is my sister Shega."
The Janissaries bowed their heads and greeted her respectfully.
Vllastar continued, "Blood is flowing in our homeland. Our
country's leader, Scanderbeg, is doing battle and resisting the
Turks. My father is fighting them, too, and so are your fathers.
Let us return, brothers, and fight for our native land!"
"You have spoken our very thoughts," they replied.
And so the seven of them set off for
Albania to fight the Turks there. Shega and Vllastar led the
group and returned joyfully to the land of their ancestors.
[from Mitrush Kuteli (ed.)
Tregime të moçme shqiptare (Tirana: Naim Frashëri,
1965, reprint 1987, 1998). Translated from the Albanian by Robert
Elsie.]
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