"Wake me, wake me, dear father, from a bitter dream, by fetching water
from the well of the Tzar. Till then, dear father, a blanket of black
earth and the shade of the green birch tree."
So they covered the little girl with her blanket of earth, and the
shepherd with his dogs watched the mound night and day. He begged for
the whistle-pipe to keep him company, poor lad, and all the days and
nights he thought of the sweet face of the little pretty one he had
seen there under the birch tree.
The old merchant harnessed his horse, as if he were going to the town;
and he drove off through the forest, along the roads, till he came to
the palace of the Tzar, the little father of all good Russians. And
then he left his horse and cart and waited on the steps of the palace.
The Tzar, the little father, with rings on his fingers and a gold
crown on his head, came out on the steps in the morning sunshine; and
as for the old merchant, he fell on his knees and kissed the feet of
the Tzar, and begged,--
"O little father, Tzar, give me leave to take water--just a little
drop of water--from your holy well."
"And what will you do with it?" says the Tzar.
"I will wake my daughter from a bitter dream," says the old merchant.
"She was murdered by her sisters--killed in the deep forest--for the
sake of a silver saucer, for the sake of a transparent apple."
"A silver saucer?" says the Tzar--"a transparent apple? Tell me about
that."
And the old merchant told the Tzar everything, just as I have told it
to you.
And the Tzar, the little father, he gave the old merchant a glass of
water from his holy well. "But," says he, "when your daughterkin
wakes, bring her to me, and her sisters with her, and also the silver
saucer and the transparent apple."
The old man kissed the ground before the Tzar, and took the glass of
water and drove home with it, and I can tell you he was careful not to
spill a drop. He carried it all the way in one hand as he drove.
He came to the forest and to the flowering mound under the little
birch tree, and there was the shepherd watching with his dogs. The old
merchant and the shepherd took away the blanket of black earth.
Tenderly, tenderly the shepherd used his fingers, until the little
girl, the pretty one, the good one, lay there as sweet as if she were
not dead.
Then the merchant scattered the holy water from the glass over the
little girl. And his daughterkin blushed as she lay there, and opened
her eyes, and passed a hand across them, as if she were waking from a
dream. And then she leapt up, crying and laughing, and clung about her
old father's neck. And there they stood, the two of them, laughing and
crying with joy. And the shepherd could not take his eyes from her,
and in his eyes, too, there were tears.
But the old father did not forget what he had promised the Tzar. He
set the little pretty one, who had been so good that her wicked
sisters had called her Stupid, to sit beside him on the cart. And he
brought something from the house in a coffer of wood, and kept it
under his coat. And they brought out the two sisters, the bad ones,
from their dark prison, and set them in the cart. And the Little
Stupid kissed them and cried over them, and wanted to loose their
hands, but the old merchant would not let her. And they all drove
together till they came to the palace of the Tzar. The shepherd boy
could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and he ran all the
way behind the cart.
Well, they came to the palace, and waited on the steps; and the Tzar
came out to take the morning air, and he saw the old merchant, and the
two sisters with their hands tied, and the little pretty, one, as
lovely as a spring day. And the Tzar saw her, and could not take his
eyes from her. He did not see the shepherd boy, who hid away among the
crowd.
Says the great Tzar to his soldiers, pointing to the bad sisters,
"These two are to be put to death at sunset. When the sun goes down
their heads must come off, for they are not fit to see another day."
Then he turns to the little pretty one, and he says: "Little sweet
pigeon, where is your silver saucer, and where is your transparent
apple?"
The old merchant took the wooden box from under his coat, and opened
it with a key at his belt, and gave it to the little one, and she took
out the silver saucer and the transparent apple and gave them to the
Tzar.
"O lord Tzar," says she, "O little father, spin the apple in the
saucer, and you will see whatever you wish to see--your soldiers, your
high hills, your forests, your plains, your rivers, and Everything in
all Russia."
And the Tzar, the little father, spun the apple in the saucer till it
seemed a little whirlpool of white mist, and there he saw glittering
towns, and regiments of soldiers marching to war, and ships, and day
and night, and the clear stars above the trees. He looked at these
things and thought much of them.
Then the little good one threw herself on her knees before him,
weeping.
"O little father, Tzar," she says, "take my transparent apple and my
silver saucer; only forgive my sisters. Do not kill them because of
me. If their heads are cut off when the sun goes down, it would have
been better for me to lie under the blanket of black earth in the
shade of the birch tree in the forest."
The Tzar was pleased with the kind heart of the little pretty one, and
he forgave the bad ones, and their hands were untied, and the little
pretty one kissed them, and they kissed her again and said they were
sorry.
The old merchant looked up at the sun, and saw how the time was going.
"Well, well," says he, "it's time we were getting ready to go home."
They all fell on their knees before the Tzar and thanked him. But the
Tzar could not take his eyes from the little pretty one, and would not
let her go.
"Little sweet pigeon," says he, "will you be my Tzaritza, and a kind
mother to Holy Russia?"
And the little good one did not know what to say. She blushed and
answered, very rightly, "As my father orders, and as my little mother
wishes, so shall it be."
The Tzar was pleased with her answer, and he sent a messenger on a
galloping horse to ask leave from the little pretty one's old mother.
And of course the old mother said that she was more than willing. So
that was all right. Then there was a wedding--such a wedding!--and
every city in Russia sent a silver plate of bread, and a golden
salt-cellar, with their good wishes to the Tzar and Tzaritza.
Only the shepherd boy, when he heard that the little pretty one was to
marry the Tzar, turned sadly away and went off into the forest.
"Are you happy, little sweet pigeon?" says the Tzar.
"Oh yes," says the Little Stupid, who was now Tzaritza and mother of
Holy Russia; "but there is one thing that would make me happier."
"And what is that?" says the lord Tzar.
"I cannot bear to lose my old father and my little mother and my dear
sisters. Let them be with me here in the palace, as they were in my
father's house."
The Tzar laughed at the little pretty one, but he agreed, and the
little pretty one ran to tell them the good news. She said to her
sisters, "Let all be forgotten, and all be forgiven, and may the evil
eye fall on the one who first speaks of what has been!"
For a long time the Tzar lived, and the little pretty one the
Tzaritza, and they had many children, and were very happy together.
And ever since then the Tzars of Russia have kept the silver saucer
and the transparent apple, so that, whenever they wish, they can see
everything that is going on all over Russia. Perhaps even now the
Tzar, the little father--God preserve him!--is spinning the apple in
the saucer, and looking at us, and thinking it is time that two little
pigeons were in bed.
* * * * *
"Is that the end?" said Vanya.
"That is the end," said old Peter.
"Poor shepherd boy!" said Maroosia.
"I don't know about that," said old Peter. "You see, if he had married
the little pretty one, and had to have all the family to live with
him, he would have had them in a hut like ours instead of in a great
palace, and so he would never have had room to get away from them. And
now, little pigeons, who is going to be first into bed?"