BORTE (A Historical Drama)

(a bride’s headdress in the form of a cone) with owl feathers on her head, wearing a toe-length white dress with double straps, a fitted red camisole covering her chest and shoulders, and curved gold earrings. She walks slowly; it is an important moment for everyone. The assembled people are divided in two: one half – the taking part, the Mongols, the second – the accompanying part, the Kazakhs. The latter approach the Mongols, and then stop. AISHAN: Respectable matchmakers, is the soul in your body barely flickering? Why are you all standing at attention? HOELUN: We’re waiting for the bride to come closer and stand in front of us. Not knowing what to do according to the Kazakh tradition, our family hesitated in confusion. After all, what rite can the Mongols try and abide by if all their wives, without exception, were taken not through matchmaking, but through kidnapping? Hasar, Belgutei, what did I instruct you to do? Where is your shashu? The group of Mongols, as if just now waking up, begins to throw shashu in the direction of the Kazakh group. It is made up of silver coins prepared in advance and hidden in skullcaps (headdress) prior to the celebration. AISHAN: Now the bride and groom can come together as one. Temujin and Borte approach and stand opposite each other. HASAR: Oh, our bride is a beauty! BELGUTEI: What a smart and careful man elder Dai is; he managed to save her from those lascivious Noyan-jackals and deliver her to us. JAMUKHA: Her face shines like dawn, and those eyes are not burning in vain. Her brow is wide open, and her facial features are an inexhaustible source of intelligence. If Temujin reached out to such a girl, then there will be no limit to his glory, his arrogance. AISHAN: (To Borte and Temujin) Now take each other’s hands. Temujin, kneel and ask her permission to take her hand. Temujin kneels in front of Borte and, smiling a little, looks at her burning with love and tenderness. TEMUJIN: Let me touch your palm as snow white as the wings of a swan, a moon-lit beauty. Borte, without haste, gives him her hand with dignity. BORTE: Even though it was nine years ago, my palms have not forgotten your then still childish hands. TEMUJIN: I

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