Once upon a time in a certain village there lived two neighbours; one
was rich, very rich, and the other so poor that he had nothing in the
world but a little hut, and that was tumbling about his ears. At
length things came to such a pass with the poor man that he had
nothing to eat, and could get work nowhere. Full of grief, he
bethought him what he should do. He thought and thought, and at last
he said, "Look ye, wife! I'll go to my rich neighbour. Perchance he
will lend me a silver rouble; that, at any rate, will be enough to buy
bread with." So he went.
He came to the rich man. "Good health to my lord!" cried he.--"Good
health!"--"I have come on an errand to thee, dear little master!"--"What
may thine errand be?" inquired the rich man.--"Alas! would to God that I
had no need to say it. It has come to such a pass with us that
there's not a crust of bread nor a farthing of money in the house. So I
have come to thee, dear little master; lend us but a silver rouble and
we will be ever thankful to thee, and I'll work myself old to pay it
back."--"But who will stand surety for thee?" asked the rich man.--"I
know not if any man will, I am so poor. Yet, perchance, God and St
Michael will be my sureties," and he pointed at the ikon in the corner.
Then the ikon of St Michael spoke to the rich man from the niche and
said, "Come now! lend it him, and put it down to my account. God will
repay thee!"--"Well," said the rich man, "I'll lend it to thee." So he
lent it, and the poor man thanked him and returned to his home full of
joy.
But the rich man was not content that God should give him back his
loan by blessing him in his flocks and herds, and in his children, and
in his health, and in the blessed fruits of the earth. He waited and
waited for the poor man to come and pay him back his rouble, and at
last he went to seek him. "Thou son of a dog," he shouted, before the
house, "why hast thou not brought me back my money? Thou knowest how
to borrow, but thou forgettest to repay!" Then the wife of the poor
man burst into tears. "He would repay thee indeed if he were in this
world," said she, "but lo now! he died but a little while ago!" The
rich man snarled at her and departed, but when he got home he said to
the ikon, "A pretty surety _thou_ art!" Then he took St Michael down
from the niche, dug out his eyes, and began beating him.
He beat St Michael again and again, and at last he flung him into a
puddle and trampled on him. "I'll give it thee for standing me surety
so scurvily," said he. While he was thus abusing St Michael, a young
fellow about twenty years old came along that way, and said to him,
"What art thou doing, my father?"--"I am beating him because he stood
surety and has played me false. He took upon himself the repayment of
a silver rouble, which I lent to the son of a pig, who has since gone
away and died. That is why I am beating him now."--"Beat him not, my
father! I'll give thee a silver rouble, but do thou give me this holy
image!"--"Take him if thou wilt, but see that thou bring me the silver
rouble first."
Then the young man ran home and said to his father, "Dad, give me a
silver rouble!"--"Wherefore, my son?"--"I would buy a holy image,"
said he, and he told his father how he had seen that heathen beating
St Michael.--"Nay, my son, whence shall we who are poor find a silver
rouble to give to him who is so rich?"--"Nay, but give it me, dad!"
and he begged and prayed till he got it. Then he ran back as quickly
as he could, paid the silver rouble to the rich man, and got the holy
image. He washed it clean and placed it in the midst of sweet-smelling
flowers. And so they lived on as before.
Now this youth had three uncles, rich merchants, who sold all manner
of merchandise, and went in ships to foreign lands, where they sold
their goods and made their gains. One day, when his uncles were again
making ready to depart into foreign lands, he said to them, "Take me
with you!"--"Why shouldst thou go?" said they; "we have wares to sell,
but what hast thou?"--"Yet take me," said he.--"But thou hast
nothing."--"I will make me laths and boards and take them with me,"
said he.--His uncles laughed at him for imagining such wares as these,
but he begged and prayed them till they were wearied. "Well, come,"
they said, "though there is naught for thee to do; only take not much
of these wares of thine with thee, for our ships are already
full."--Then he made him laths and boards, put them on board the ship,
took St Michael with him, and they departed.
They went on and on. They sailed a short distance and they sailed a
long distance, till at last they came to another tsardom and another
empire. And the Tsar of this tsardom had an only daughter, so lovely
that the like of her is neither to be imagined nor divined in God's
fair world, neither may it be told in tales. Now this Tsarivna one day
went down to the river to bathe, and plunged into the water without
first crossing herself, whereupon the Evil Spirit took possession of
her. The Tsarivna got out of the water, and straightway fell ill of so
terrible a disease that it may not be told of. Do what they would--and
the wise men and the wise women did their utmost--it was of no avail.
In a few days she grew worse and died. Then the Tsar, her father, made
a proclamation that people should come and read the prayers for the
dead over her dead body, and so exorcise the evil spirit, and
whosoever delivered her was to have half his power and half his
tsardom.
And the people came in crowds--but none of them could read the prayers
for the dead over her, it was impossible. Every evening a man went
into the church, and every morning they swept out his bones, for there
was naught else of him remaining. And the Tsar was very wrath. "All my
people will be devoured," cried he. And he commanded that all the
foreign merchants passing through his realm should be made to read
prayers for the dead over his daughter's body. "And if they will not
read," said he, "they shall not depart from my kingdom."
So the foreign merchants went one by one. In the evening a merchant
was shut up in the church, and in the early morning they came and
found and swept away his bones. At last it came to the turn of the
young man's uncles to read the prayers for the dead in the church.
They wept and lamented and cried, "We are lost! we are lost! Heaven
help us!" Then the eldest uncle said to the lad, "Listen, good
simpleton! It has now come to my turn to read prayers over the
Tsarivna. Do thou go in my stead and pass the night in the church, and
I'll give thee all my ship."--"Nay, but," said the simpleton, "what if
she tear me to pieces too? I won't go!"--But then St Michael said to
him, "Go and fear not! Stand in the very middle of the church, fenced
round about with thy laths and boards, and take with thee a basket
full of pears. When she rushes at thee, take and scatter the pears,
and it will take her till cockcrow to pick them all up. But do thou go
on reading thy prayers all the time, and look not up, whatever she may
do."
When night came, he took up his laths and boards and a basket of
pears, and went to the church. He entrenched himself behind his
boards, stood there and began to read. At dead of night there was a
rustling and a rattling. O Lord! what was that? There was a shaking of
the bier--bang! bang!--and the Tsarivna arose from her coffin and came
straight toward him. She leaped upon the boards and made a grab at him
and fell back. Then she leaped at him again, and again she fell back.
Then he took his basket and scattered the pears. All through the
church they rolled, she after them, and she tried to pick them up till
cockcrow, and at the very first "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" she got into her
bier again and lay still.
[Illustration: THE TSARIVNA AROSE FROM HER COFFIN]
When God's bright day dawned, the people came to clean out the church
and sweep away his bones; but there he was reading his prayers, and
the rumour of it went through the town and they were all filled with
joy.
Next night it was the turn of the second uncle, and he began to beg
and pray, "Go thou, simpleton, in my stead! Look now, thou hast
already passed a night there, thou mayst very well pass another, and
I'll give thee all my ship."--But he said, "I won't go, I am
afraid."--But then St Michael said to him again, "Fear not, but go!
Fence thee all about with thy boards, and take with thee a basket of
nuts. When she rushes at thee, scatter thy nuts, and the nuts will go
rolling all about the church, and it will take her till cockcrow to
gather them all up. But do thou go on reading thy prayers, nor look
thou up, whatever may happen."
And he did so. He took his boards and the basket of nuts, and went to
the church at nightfall and read. A little after midnight there was a
rustling and an uproar, and the whole church shook. Then came a
fumbling round about the coffin--bang! bang!--up she started, and made
straight for him. She leaped and plunged, she very nearly got through
the boards. She hissed, like seething pitch, and her eyes glared at
him like coals of fire, but it was of no use. He read on and on, and
didn't once look at her. Besides, he scattered his nuts, and she went
after them and tried to pick them all up till cockcrow. And at the
first "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" she leaped into her coffin again and pulled
down the lid. In the morning the people came to sweep away his bones,
and lo! they found him alive.
The next night he had to go again in the third uncle's stead. Then he
sat down and cried and wailed, "Alas, alas! what shall I do? 'Twere
better I had never been born!"--But St Michael said to him, "Weep
not, 'twill all end happily. Fence thyself about with thy boards,
sprinkle thyself all about with holy water, incense thyself with holy
incense, and take me with thee. She shall not have thee. And the
moment she leaves her coffin, do thou jump quickly into it. And
whatever she may say to thee, and however she may implore thee, let
her not get into it again until she says to thee, '_My consort!_'"
So he went. There he stood in the middle of the church, fenced himself
about with his boards, strewed consecrated poppy-seed around him,
incensed himself with holy incense, and read and read. About the
middle of the night a tempest arose outside, and there was a rustling
and a roaring, a hissing and a wailing. The church shook, the altar
candelabra were thrown down, the holy images fell on their faces. O
Lord, how awful! Then came a bang! bang! from the coffin, and again
the Tsarivna started up. She left her coffin and fluttered about the
church. She rushed at the boards and made a snatch at him, and fell
back; she rushed at him again, and again she fell back. She foamed at
the mouth, and her fury every instant grew worse and worse. She dashed
herself about, and darted madly from one corner of the church to the
other, seeking him everywhere. But he skipped into the coffin, with
the image of St Michael by his side. She ran all over the church
seeking him. "He was here--and now he is not here!" cried she. Then
she ran farther on, felt all about her, and cried again, "He was
here--and now he's not here!" At last she sprang up to the coffin, and
there he was. Then she began to beg and pray him, "Come down, come
down! I'll try and catch thee no more, only come down, come down!"
But he only prayed to God, and answered her never a word. Then the
cock crew once, "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"--"Alas! come down, come down, _my
consort!_" cried she. Then he came down, and they both fell on their
knees and began praying to God, and wept sore and gave thanks to God
because He had had mercy on them both.
And at dawn of day crowds of people, with the Tsar at the head of
them, came to the church. "Shall we find him reading prayers, or shall
we only find his bones?" said they. And lo! there they both were on
their knees praying fervently to God. Then the Tsar rejoiced greatly,
and embraced both him and her. After that they had a grand service in
the church, and sprinkled her with holy water, and baptized her again,
and the unclean spirit departed from her. Then the Tsar gave the young
man half his power and half his kingdom, but the merchants departed in
their ships, with their nephew on board.
[Illustration: THEY WERE BOTH ON THEIR KNEES]
They lived together, and time went on and the young man still remained
a bachelor, and was so handsome that words cannot describe it. But the
Tsar lived alone with his daughter. She, however, grew sadder and
sadder, and was no longer like her former self, so sorrowful was she.
And the Tsar asked her, saying, "Wherefore art thou so sorrowful?"--"I
am not sorrowful, father," said she. But the Tsar watched her, and saw
that she _was_ sorrowful, and there was no help for it. Then he asked
her again, "Art thou ill?"--"Nay, dear dad," said she. "I myself know
not what is the matter with me."
And so it went on, till the Tsar dreamt a dream, and in this dream it
was said to him, "Thy daughter grieves because she loves so much the
youth who drove the unclean spirit out of her." Then the Tsar asked
her, "Dost thou love this youth?"--And she answered, "I do, dear
father."--"Then why didst thou not tell me before, my daughter?" said
he. Then he sent for his heyducks and commanded them, saying, "Go this
instant to such and such a kingdom, and there ye will find the youth
who cured my daughter; bring him to me." Then they went on and on
until they found him, and he took just the same laths and boards that
he had had before, and went with them. The Tsar met him, and bought
all his boards, and when they split them in pieces, lo! they were full
of precious stones. Then the Tsar took him to his own house and gave
him his daughter. And they lived right merrily together.
THE STORY OF TREMSIN, THE
BIRD ZHAR, AND NASTASIA,
THE LOVELY MAID OF THE SEA
There was once upon a time a man and a woman, and they had one little
boy. In the summertime they used to go out and mow corn in the fields,
and one summer when they had laid their little lad by the side of a
sheaf, an eagle swooped down, caught up the child, carried him into a
forest, and laid him in its nest. Now in this forest three bandits
chanced to be wandering at the same time. They heard the child crying
in the eagle's nest: "Oo-oo! oo-oo! oo-oo!" so they went up to the oak
on which was the nest and said one to another, "Let us hew down the
tree and kill the child!"--"No," replied one of them, "it were better
to climb up the tree and bring him down alive." So he climbed up the
tree and brought down the lad, and they nurtured him and gave him the
name of Tremsin. They brought up Tremsin until he became a youth, and
then they gave him a horse, set him upon it, and said to him, "Now go
out into the wide world and search for thy father and thy mother!" So
Tremsin went out into the wide world and pastured his steed on the
vast steppes, and his steed spoke to him and said, "When we have gone
a little farther, thou wilt see before thee a plume of the Bird
_Zhar_[12]; pick it not up, or sore trouble will be thine!" Then they
went on again. They went on and on, through ten tsardoms they went,
till they came to another empire in the land of Thrice Ten where lay
the feather. And the youth said to himself, "Why should I not pick up
the feather when it shines so brightly even from afar?" And he went
near to the feather, and it shone so that the like of it cannot be
expressed or conceived or imagined or even told of in tales. Then
Tremsin picked up the feather and went into the town over against him,
and in that town there lived a rich nobleman. And Tremsin entered the
house of this nobleman and said, "Sir, may I not take service with
thee as a labourer?"--The nobleman looked at him, and seeing that he
was comely and stalwart, "Why not? Of course thou mayst," said he. So
he took him into his service. Now this nobleman had many servants, and
they curried his horses for him, and made them smart and glossy
against the day he should go a-hunting. And Tremsin began to curry his
horse likewise, and the servants of the nobleman could not make the
horses of their master so shining bright as Tremsin made his own
horse. So they looked more closely, and they perceived that when
Tremsin cleaned his horse he stroked it with the feather of the Bird
Zhar, and the coat of the good steed straightway shone like burnished
silver. Then those servants were filled with envy, and said among
themselves, "How can we remove this fellow from the world? We'll
saddle him with a task he is unable to do, and then our master will
drive him away."--So they went to their master and said, "Tremsin has
a feather of the Bird Zhar, and he says that if he likes he can get
the Bird Zhar itself." Then the nobleman sent for Tremsin and said to
him, "O Tremsin! my henchmen say that thou canst get the Bird Zhar if
thou dost choose."--"Nay, but I cannot," replied Tremsin.--"Answer me
not," said the nobleman, "for so sure as I've a sword, I'll slice thy
head off like a gourd."--Then Tremsin fell a-weeping and went away to
his horse. "My master," said he, "hath given me a task to do that will
clean undo me."--"What task is that?" asked the horse.--"Why, to fetch
him the Bird Zhar."--"Why that's not a task, but a trifle," replied
the horse. "Let us go to the steppes," it continued, "and let me go
a-browsing; but do thou strip thyself stark-naked and lie down in the
grass, and the Bird Zhar will straightway swoop down to feed. So long
as she only claws about thy body, touch her not; but as soon as she
begins to claw at thine eyes, seize her by the legs."
[12] _I.e._ Burning bright.
So when they got to the wild steppes, Tremsin stripped himself naked
and flung himself in the grass, and, immediately, the Bird Zhar
swooped down and began pecking all about him, and at last she pecked
at his eyes. Then Tremsin seized her by both legs, and mounted his
horse and took the Bird Zhar to the nobleman. Then his fellow-servants
were more envious than ever, and they said among themselves, "How
shall we devise for him a task to do that cannot be done, and so rid
the world of him altogether?" So they bethought them, and then they
went to the nobleman and said, "Tremsin says that to get the Bird Zhar
was nothing, and that he is also able to get the thrice-lovely
Nastasia of the sea." Then the nobleman again sent for Tremsin and
said to him, "Look now! thou didst get for me the Bird Zhar, see that
thou now also gettest for me the thrice-lovely Nastasia of the
sea."--"But I cannot, sir!" said Tremsin.--"Answer me not so!"
replied the nobleman, "for so sure as I've a sword, I'll slice thy
head off like a gourd an thou bring her not."--Then Tremsin went out
to his horse and fell a-weeping.--"Wherefore dost thou weep?" asked
the faithful steed.--"Wherefore should I not weep?" he replied. "My
master has given me a task that cannot be done."--"What task is
that?"--"Why, to fetch him the thrice-lovely Nastasia of the
sea!"--"Oh-ho!" laughed the horse, "that is not a task, but a trifle.
Go to thy master and say, 'Cause white tents to be raised by the
sea-shore, and buy wares of sundry kinds, and wine and spirits in
bottles and flasks,' and the thrice-lovely Nastasia will come and
purchase thy wares, and then thou mayst take her."
And the nobleman did so. He caused white tents to be pitched by the
sea-shore, and bought kerchiefs and scarves and spread them out gaily,
and made great store of wine and brandy in bottles and flasks. Then
Tremsin rode toward the tents, and while he was on the way his horse
said to him, "Now when I go to graze, do thou lie down and feign to
sleep. Then the thrice-lovely Nastasia will appear and say, 'What for
thy wares?' but do thou keep silence. But when she begins to taste of
the wine and the brandy, then she will go to sleep in the tent, and
thou canst catch her easily and hold her fast!" Then Tremsin lay down
and feigned to sleep, and forth from the sea came the thrice-lovely
Nastasia, and went up to the tents and asked, "Merchant, merchant,
what for thy wares?" But he lay there, and moved never a limb. She
asked the same thing over and over again, but, getting no answer, went
into the tents where stood the flasks and the bottles. She tasted of
the wine. How good it was! She tasted of the brandy. That was still
better. So from tasting she fell to drinking. First she drank a
little, and then she drank a little more, and at last she went asleep
in the tent. Then Tremsin seized the thrice-lovely Nastasia and put
her behind him on horseback, and carried her off to the nobleman. The
nobleman praised Tremsin exceedingly, but the thrice-lovely Nastasia
said, "Look now! since thou hast found the feather of the Bird Zhar,
and the Bird Zhar herself, since also thou hast found me, thou must
now fetch me also my little coral necklace from the sea!" Then Tremsin
went out to his faithful steed and wept sorely, and told him all about
it. And the horse said to him, "Did I not tell thee that grievous woe
would come upon thee if thou didst pick up that feather?" But the
horse added, "Come! weep not! after all 'tis not a task, but a
trifle." Then they went along by the sea, and the horse said to him,
"Let me out to graze, and then keep watch till thou seest a crab come
forth from the sea, and then say to him, 'I'll catch thee.'"--So
Tremsin let his horse out to graze, and he himself stood by the
sea-shore, and watched and watched till he saw a crab come swimming
along. Then he said to the crab, "I'll catch thee."--"Oh! seize me
not!" said the crab, "but let me get back into the sea, and I'll be of
great service to thee."--"Very well," said Tremsin, "but thou must get
me from the sea the coral necklace of the thrice-lovely Nastasia," and
with that he let the crab go back into the sea again. Then the crab
called together all her young crabs, and they collected all the coral
and brought it ashore, and gave it to Tremsin. Then the faithful
steed came running up, and Tremsin mounted it, and took the coral to
the thrice-lovely Nastasia. "Well," said Nastasia, "thou hast got the
feather of the Bird Zhar, thou hast got the Bird Zhar itself, thou
hast got me my coral, get me now from the sea my herd of wild
horses!"--Then Tremsin was sore distressed, and went to his faithful
steed and wept bitterly, and told him all about it. "Well," said the
horse, "this time 'tis no trifle, but a real hard task. Go now to thy
master, and bid him buy twenty hides, and twenty poods[13] of pitch,
and twenty poods of flax, and twenty poods of hair."--So Tremsin went
to his master and told him, and his master bought it all. Then Tremsin
loaded his horse with all this, and to the sea they went together. And
when they came to the sea the horse said, "Now lay upon me the hides
and the tar and the flax, and lay them in this order--first a hide,
and then a pood of tar, and then a pood of flax, and so on, laying
them thus till they are all laid." Tremsin did so. "And now," said the
horse, "I shall plunge into the sea, and when thou seest a large red
wave driving toward the shore, run away till the red wave has passed
and thou dost see a white wave coming, and then sit down on the shore
and keep watch. I shall then come out of the sea, and after me the
whole herd; then thou must strike with the horsehair the horse which
gallops immediately after me, and he will not be too strong for
thee."--So the faithful steed plunged into the sea, and Tremsin sat
down on the shore and watched. The horse swam to a bosquet that rose
out of the sea, and there the herd of sea-horses was grazing. When
the strong charger of Nastasia saw him and the hides he carried on his
back, it set off after him at full tilt, and the whole herd followed
the strong charger of Nastasia. They drove the horse with the hides
into the sea, and pursued him. Then the strong charger of Nastasia
caught up the steed of Tremsin and tore off one of his hides, and
began to worry it with his teeth and tear it to fragments as he ran.
Then he caught him up a second time, and tore off another hide, and
began to worry that in like manner till he had torn it also to shreds;
and thus he ran after Tremsin's steed for seventy miles, till he had
torn off all the hides, and worried them to bits. But Tremsin sat upon
the sea-shore till he saw the large white billow bounding in, and
behind the billow came his own horse, and behind his own horse came
the thrice-terrible charger of the thrice-lovely Nastasia, with the
whole herd at his heels. Tremsin struck him full on the forehead with
the twenty poods of hair, and immediately he stood stock still. Then
Tremsin threw a halter over him, mounted, and drove the whole herd to
the thrice-lovely Nastasia. Nastasia praised Tremsin for his prowess,
and said to him, "Well, thou hast got the feather of the Bird Zhar,
thou hast got the Bird Zhar itself, thou hast got me my coral and my
herd of horses, now milk my mare and put the milk into three vats, so
that there may be milk hot as boiling water in the first vat, lukewarm
milk in the second vat, and icy cold milk in the third vat." Then
Tremsin went to his faithful steed and wept bitterly, and the horse
said to him, "Wherefore dost thou weep?"--"Why should I not weep?"
cried he; "the thrice-lovely Nastasia has given me a task to do that
cannot be done. I am to fill three vats with the milk from her mare,
and the milk must be boiling hot in the first vat, and lukewarm in the
second, and icy cold in the third vat."--"Oh-ho!" cried the horse,
"that is not a task, but a trifle. I'll caress the mare, and then go
on nibbling till thou hast milked all three vats full." So Tremsin did
so. He milked the three vats full, and the milk in the first vat was
boiling hot, and in the second vat warm, and in the third vat freezing
cold. When all was ready the thrice-lovely Nastasia said to Tremsin,
"Now, leap first of all into the cold vat, and then into the warm vat,
and then into the boiling hot vat!"--Tremsin leaped into the first
vat, and leaped out again an old man; he leaped into the second vat,
and leaped out again a youth; he leaped into the third vat, but when
he leaped out again, he was so young and handsome that no pen can
describe it, and no tale can tell of it. Then the thrice-lovely
Nastasia herself leaped into the vats. She leaped into the first vat,
and came out an old woman; she leaped into the second vat, and came
out a young maid; but when she leaped out of the third vat, she was so
handsome and goodly that no pen can describe it, and no tale can tell
of it. Then the thrice-lovely Nastasia made the nobleman leap into the
vats. He leaped into the first vat, and became quite old; he leaped
into the second vat, and became quite young; he leaped into the third
vat, and burst to pieces. Then Tremsin took unto himself the
thrice-lovely Nastasia to wife, and they lived happily together on the
nobleman's estate, and the evil servants they drove right away.
[13] A pood = 40 lb.