But here, at
Manasia,
"The battle towers, the donjon keep,
The loophole grates, where captives weep.
The flanking walls that round it sweep,
In yellow lustre shone;"
and we were quietly carried back to the year of our Lord 1400; for
this castle and church were built by Stephan, Despot of Servia, the
son of Knes Lasar. Stephan, Instead of being "the Czar of all the
Servian lands and coasts," became a mere hospodar, who must do as he
was bid by his masters, the Turks.
Manasia being entirely secluded from the world, the monastic
establishment was of a humbler and simpler nature than that of
Ravanitza, and the monks, good honest men, but mere peasants in cowls.
After dinner, a strong broad-faced monk, whom I recognized as having
been of the company at Ravanitza, called for a bumper, and began in a
solemn matter-of-fact way, the following speech: "You are a great
traveller in our eyes; for none of us ever went further than Syrmium.
The greatest traveller of your country that we know of was that
wonderful navigator, Robinson Crusoe, of York, who, poor man, met with
many and great difficulties, but at length, by the blessing of God,
was restored to his native country, his family, and his friends.
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