In a certain kingdom, in a certain country, once there lived Vasíli the
pope and his daughter, Vasilísa Vasílyevna. She used to dress in male
fashion, used to sit astride on horseback; shot with her gun, and did
nothing like other girls; and there were very few who knew that she was
a maiden. It was always thought that she was a man, and they called her
Vasíli Vasílyevich. And the main reason that they so called her was
because Vasilísa Vasílyevna loved _vódka_—a custom ill-befitting a maid.
Once Tsar Bárkhat[22] (this was the name of the King) was travelling
through this same country hunting deer, and Vasilísa Vasílyevna met him:
she was riding out to hounds in a man’s clothes. When Tsar Bárkhat saw
her, he asked: “Who is this young man?”
And an attendant answered him: “Tsar, this is no young man, but a
maiden. I am certain of it; she is the daughter of Pope Vasíli, and her
name is Vasilísa Vasílyevna.”
The Tsar had hardly reached home before he sent a note to Pope Vasíli,
bidding his son Vasíli Vasílyevich come and dine with him at the
imperial table. And he, in the meantime, went to his old evil-tempered
housekeeper and bade her devise some means of eliciting whether Vasíli
Vasílyevich were a maiden.
The old evil housekeeper said: “Hang an embroidery-frame in your palace,
at the right hand, and a gun on the left; if she is really Vasilísa
Vasílyevna, she will, as soon as ever she enters the palace, first take
hold of the frame; but, if it is Vasíli Vasílyevich he will lay hands on
the gun.”
Tsar Bárkhat obeyed the counsel of his ancient evil housekeeper and
ordered his attendants to hang an embroidery-frame and a flint-lock up
in the palace.
As soon as ever her father Vasíli received the Tsar’s message he
communicated it to his daughter, Vasilísa Vasílyevna, who at once went
into the stable and saddled the grey horse with the silver mane, and
rode straight out to the courtyard of Tsar Bárkhat.
Tsar Bárkhat came to meet her. She humbly prayed God, crossed herself as
is ordained, bowed to all four sides, and greeted Tsar Bárkhat
friendlywise, and with him entered the palace. They sat down to table
together, ate sweetmeats, and drank strong wine. After the dinner
Vasilísa Vasílyevna went for a walk with the Tsar through the palace. As
soon as ever she saw the embroidery-frame she began to scold Tsar
Bárkhat: “Whatever nonsense have you hanging up there, Tsar Bárkhat? I
never saw such girlish trash in my father’s house, and I have never
heard of it, and yet you find it hanging in Tsar Bárkhat’s palace!” And
she promptly bade a courteous farewell to the Tsar and rode home.
And the Tsar was still in a quandary whether she were a maiden or not.
Two days later Tsar Bárkhat sent another message to Pope Vasíli, begging
him send his son Vasíli Vasílyevich. As soon as Vasilísa Vasílyevna
heard that she went into the stable and saddled the grey horse with the
silver mane, and galloped away to Tsar Bárkhat’s courtyard. Tsar Bárkhat
came to meet her, and she greeted him friendlily, modestly prayed to
God, crossed herself, as is becoming, and bowed to the four quarters of
the wind. At the advice of the old and evil housekeeper he had commanded
a sweet pie to be made for supper and pearls to be mixed in it, for the
old hag said: “If it is only Vasilísa Vasílyevna, she will take up the
pearls; but, if it is Vasíli Vasílyevich, he will throw them under the
table.”
So they passed the time merrily and they sat down. The Tsar sat at table
and Vasilísa Vasílyevna on his right. They ate sweetmeats and they drank
strong wines. Then there came the pie, and as soon as even Vasilísa
Vasílyevna’s spoon touched it, it tingled on the pearls; and she flung
them and the pie under the table, and began to scold the Tsar. “Who,”
she asked, “put these into the pie? Whatever nonsense have you here,
Tsar Bárkhat? I never saw such girlish trash in my father’s house, and I
have never heard of them, and yet you find them in Tsar Bárkhat’s food!”
And she bade farewell courteously and rode home.
Still the Tsar was utterly at a loss whether it were a maiden, and he
had made up his mind to find out. So, two days later, the Tsar, at the
advice of the old evil-minded housekeeper, had the bath heated, for the
old woman said: “If it is only Vasilísa Vasílyevna she will not go into
the bath together with the Tsar.” So the bath was heated, and Tsar
Bárkhat sent Pope Vasíli another message that he would like to have his
son Vasíli Vasílyevich as his guest; and when Vasilísa Vasílyevna heard
of it she went into the stable and saddled the grey horse with the
silver mane, and galloped away to Tsar Bárkhat’s courtyard. He received
her at the state entrance. They greeted each other friendlily, and she
trod on velvet pile into the palace. As she came in she prayed devoutly,
crossed herself, as is seemly, and bowed to all four quarters, and sat
together with the Tsar at table. They ate sweetmeats and drank strong
wine.
After the dinner the Tsar said: “Will you not come with me into the
bath, Vasíli Vasílyevich?”
“If you wish it, mighty Tsar,” Vasilísa Vasílyevna answered. “It is a
long time since I have had a bath, and I should like a steam bath.”
But before ever the Tsar had had time to undress in the front room, she
was in the bath and out of it, so quick was she, and the Tsar was as
puzzled as ever. In the meantime Vasilísa Vasílyevna had written a
letter and bade the attendants give it to the Tsar as soon as he came
out of the bath. And this was what she wrote:
“O you crow, you Tsar Bárkhat! The crow has not caught the falcon in the
garden. I am not Vasíli Vasílyevich, but Vasilísa Vasílyevna!”
This was the way in which Tsar Bárkhat was hoodwinked; and you see how
clever and beautiful Vasilísa Vasílyevna was.