As soon as the servant was gone, Bova escaped from his prison and went to the harbour to forget his sorrow. There some drunken people seized and carried him on board a ship, and the merchants on it asked him of what condition he was. Bova Korolevich told them that he was of the poor class, and that his mother got her living by washing linen for strangers. When the sailors heard this they wondered that he should look so handsome, and bethought them how they might keep him with them. They began to wrangle as to who should be his master, but as soon as Bova perceived their intention, he told them not to quarrel for his sake, for that he would serve them all in turn.

Then the shipmen left the city of Anton and sailed out to sea, to the Armenian kingdom of King Sensibri Andronovich. There they cast anchor, and went into the city to follow their business; whilst Bova went on shore, and wandered about, playing on the lute. Meantime the port officers came on board the ship, whom King Sensibri sent to enquire whence the ship had come, who the merchants were, and what was their business. But when they heard Bova Korolevich playing, and saw the beauty of his features, they forgot what they had come for, and returning to King Sensibri, said only that they had seen a youth of unspeakable beauty on board the ship, who played on the lute so wonderfully that they were never tired of listening to him; adding, that they had quite forgotten to enquire what wares the ship contained. When the King heard this he went himself to the ship, and when he had seen Bova, he offered to purchase him, but the merchants would not sell him for any price, telling the King that he belonged to them all equally, and relating how they had picked him up on the seashore. At this King Sensibri flew into a rage, and instantly ordered them to be driven out of his kingdom, forbidding them ever to return. On hearing this order, the merchants agreed to sell Bova Korolevich for three hundred bars of gold.

When Bova was brought to the Court, the King called to him and said: "Tell me, young fellow, to what class do you belong, and what is your name?" And Bova replied: "Gracious King, Sensibri Andronovich, I am of the poor class, and lost my father at an early age: my mother washes linen for strangers; and thus supports herself and me. My name is Anhusei, and I will serve thee henceforth faithfully."

When the King heard this he said: "As you are of the lowest class and cannot remember your father, go into my stables, and you shall be the head over all my grooms." So Bova made his bow and went into the stable.

Bova often drove out with his comrades to the forbidden meadows of the King, to get grass for the horses; but he never took a sickle with him, but pulled all the grass with his hands, and gathered himself as much as ten men together could mow. When the other grooms saw this they were amazed at his strength. His fame at length reached the King's daughter, the fair Drushnevna, who went to see him: and as soon as she beheld Bova, she was enraptured with his uncommon beauty. And one day she said to the King: "My gracious father, you are indeed powerful and renowned, not only in your own kingdom, but in all countries far and near, and no King, Tsar, or Knight can compare with you; but, O King! you have no trusty and clever steward in your household. Now, I have heard that there is a young lad in our royal stables whom you have purchased from some shipmen; his name is Anhusei. This lad will prove trusty and useful in your service; order him to be taken from the stable and employed in your household."

King Sensibri replied: "My dear daughter, I have never refused to grant any one of your wishes, and in this matter too you are free to do as you will." When the Princess Drushnevna heard these words, she thanked her father, made her obeisance, and went out. Then she ordered Bova to be called and desired him to leave his old task and to enter on his new employment in the household.

The next day she called Bova to her and said: "Hark ye, Anhusei, to-morrow my father will have a great feast, and all the princes, boyars, and knights will be present to eat and drink and sport; you must stand near me at the table to do my bidding." Thereupon Bova made his bow and was going away, but the Princess Drushnevna called him back, and said: "Tell me the truth, young fellow, what class do you belong to—of boyar or kingly race? Or are you the son of some brave knight, or of a merchant from a foreign land? And what is your true name? I believe not that you are born of common folk as you told my father." Then Bova replied: "Gracious Lady, I have told your royal father truly my name and condition, and can only repeat it to you." And so saying he left the room.

On the morrow the King held a great feast, and Bova had to hold a roasted swan to the Princess Drushnevna, which she began to carve; and, on purpose, she let fall a fork on the floor. Bova instantly picked it up, and as he held it out to her she kissed him on the head. As soon as the feast was ended, Bova lay down to sleep, and slept three days and three nights; no shaking could arouse him. The fourth day, when he awoke, he rode out into the open country, walked into the forbidden meadows, gathered some beautiful flowers, and, making a wreath, placed it on his head, and so went into the city. When the Princess saw him thus decked out, she called him before her, and bade him take the wreath from his head and place it on hers. Bova did not obey; but he took the wreath from his head, pulled it to pieces, and flung it on the ground; then he left the room, and shut the door after him with such force that he pulled out the silver handle, and a stone fell from the wall and wounded him on the head. The fair Drushnevna hearing this, cured his wound with her medicines; and when it was healed Bova lay down again to sleep, and slept five days and five nights.

Now at this time King Marcobrun came from the kingdom beyond the Don, with many hundred thousand warriors; and surrounding the Armenian city with his army, he sent an ambassador to Sensibri to demand the Princess his daughter Drushnevna for wife; promising, in return, to reward and defend him; but threatening, in case of his refusal, to destroy the city with fire and sword, to throw him into prison, and carry off his daughter by force. Then King Sensibri answered: "Tell your Master, the renowned King Marcobrun that, until this day, I have never had any disagreement with him, but have lived in friendship and good-will; and that I have no desire now to quarrel with him; but better it had been to have sent you with a simple request instead of threats. I pardon him, however, on account of his youth, and invite him to my royal castle to eat bread and salt, and to celebrate the marriage with my daughter."

King Sensibri dismissed the messenger, and commanding the city gates to be opened, went himself to meet King Marcobrun, took him by his white hands, led him into the marble palace, seated him at an oaken table spread with checkered tablecloths and sweetmeats, and they fell to eating and drinking and disport.

Just then Bova Korolevich awoke from his five days' sleep, and heard the confused sounds of men, and the neighing of horses, outside the city. Whereupon he went into the white marble palace to Princess Drushnevna, and said: "Gracious Lady, I hear the sounds of men and horses outside the city, and people say that Marcobrun's nobles are amusing themselves with holding a tournament. I have a wish to join in it; command, I pray, a good steed to be given me, and allow me to go forth and see the sports."

The Princess answered: "My little fellow Anhusei, how can you ride with Marcobrun's nobles? You are still very young, and cannot sit fast on a horse. However, if you have so great a longing to go, choose a good horse and ride off to see the sport; but take no weapon, and do not mingle in their games."

The instant Bova received this permission he went into the stable, straddled across a broom, and so rode out of the city. And as soon as Marcobrun's nobles saw Bova Korolevich riding upon a broom, they began to laugh at him, and cried: "Look, look at King Sensibri's groom! riding cock-horse upon a broom! to sweep the field and make us room!" But Bova did not relish their jokes, and riding up to them, he defended himself with his broom, laying about him right and left, and knocking them down by twos and threes. When Marcobrun's nobles saw this sport they rushed upon Bova, ten or more at once; but he took them as they came, and overthrew them all. Thereat the other knights were enraged, and attacked Bova, two hundred in a body, and tried to ride him down. Still Bova flinched not, but slew them all, one after another, to the number of two hundred thousand men. When the King's daughter saw this from her window, she went to her father and said: "My gracious father, command your servant Anhusei to return. He has ridden forth to see the sports of Marcobrun's nobles; but they are engaged against him, and are attacking him with great fury. It were a shame to let him be slain: he is still but a young child, and has little strength." So King Sensibri Andronovich instantly sent to Bova, and ordered him to return to the city.

Bova obeyed the command, rode back to the city, lay down to sleep, and slept for nine days and nine nights. Meanwhile the powerful Tsar and knight Lukoper came to the Armenian kingdom: his head was as large as a beer-barrel, his eyebrows were a span apart, his shoulders an arrow's length broad, and he was as tall as a journey. Never before had such a powerful knight been heard of; and he came at the head of a host twice as strong as the army of Marcobrun. Then he surrounded the city of King Sensibri, and sent an ambassador to him, demanding the hand of the Princess Drushnevna; threatening, if he refused, to lay waste his city with fire and sword, to imprison all the inhabitants, to overthrow Marcobrun's army, slay both Kings, and carry off the Princess Drushnevna. But if Sensibri assented to his demand, Lukoper promised him his aid and protection.

When King Sensibri heard this message he dared not refuse, and dismissed the ambassador without an answer. Then he called Marcobrun, and took counsel with him, and they agreed to attack Lukoper with all their forces. They forthwith ordered their horses to be saddled; each seized in his right hand a steel sword, and in his left a sharp lance, and they rode forth out of the city. When the Tsar Lukoper beheld them, he rode with the blunt end of his lance against Marcobrun and Sensibri, overthrew them one after another, took them prisoners, and sent them to his father, Saltan Saltanovich, who was encamped with his army on the seashore. Then Lukoper fell upon the armies of Sensibri and Marcobrun, and slew them without mercy, while his gallant steed trampled down still more than he killed; and in a short time the royal forbidden meadows were covered with the dead.

Just at this time Bova Korolevich awoke from his sleep, and heard the noise of Lukoper's army, and the neighing of the horses. Then he went to the Princess Drushnevna and said: "Gracious Lady, I hear the noise of Lukoper's warriors, who are disporting in a tourney after the victory over your father and Marcobrun, whom he has sent prisoners to his father the Tsar Saltan Saltanovich, on the seashore. I am therefore come, as your faithful servant, to crave permission to take from the royal stable a good horse, with trappings, a sword, and a steel lance. Let me go forth against Lukoper's army, measure my strength with him, and try the valour of his boasting warriors." The Princess answered: "I will consent to your wish, young fellow; but you must first tell me truly of what rank of life you are, and what is your real name? You have not told my father the truth: your handsome figure and valorous deeds show clearly that you are no poor man's son."

"Lady," replied Bova Korolevich, "I would not disclose to you my true rank and name, but that I am now going forth to a battle of life and death, and know not whether I shall return from it alive, or lose my head in rescuing my King from prison; therefore I will confess the truth. My father was the renowned King Guidon, a mighty hero in the field, and a merciful prince to his subjects. My mother is Queen Militrisa, daughter of the Tsar Kirbit Versoulovich: my name is Bova. I left my country in early youth, when King Dadon laid waste our kingdom, treacherously murdered my father, and seized upon his dominions. He sought to kill me too; but I fled, sailed with some merchants to your kingdom, and was bought by your father."

When the Princess heard this story she loved Bova Korolevich still more, and she said to him: "Brave Knight, you would engage in a fight of life and death with the Tsar Lukoper, but you do not know, perhaps, how powerful he is, and what an immense army he has with him; besides, you are still very young, and have not the strength of manhood. Stay rather in my city, take me for your wife, and protect my country and people against our foes."

Bova, however, was unmoved by her words; and again entreated her to let him have a steed and armour. When the Princess Drushnevna saw how earnestly he begged, she took from the wall a battle sword, buckled it on him with her own hands, put on his armour, and led him to the stone stable to fetch a steed, which stood there behind twelve iron doors and twelve huge locks. Then she commanded the grooms to strike off the locks; but as soon as the horse perceived a rider worthy of him, he began to burst the doors with his hoofs, broke them all down, ran out, set himself on his hind legs before Bova, and neighed so loud that the fair Drushnevna and all the bystanders were ready to fall down senseless.

When Bova took the horse by his black-grey mane and began to pat him, he stood still as if rooted to the spot; and Bova Korolevich seeing this, placed a Tcherkess saddle upon him, with girths of Persian silk and golden buckles. And when he vaulted into the saddle and took leave of the Princess Drushnevna, she embraced and kissed him. The royal Chamberlain, named Orlop, who saw this, began to reproach her, which angered Bova so much that he hurled him to the ground half-dead with the butt-end of his lance, and rode out of the city. Then Bova struck the flanks of his steed, which started, rose from the ground, and leaped over the city wall.

When Bova beheld the camp of the Tsar Lukoper, in which the tents stood as thick as trees in a forest, he drew his battle sword and mace, and rode straight against the mighty Tsar. The crash of two mountains falling upon one another is not so great as was the onset between these two powerful knights. Lukoper struck at Bova's heart with his lance, but Bova parried the thrust with his shield, and the lance was shivered in pieces. Then Bova struck Lukoper on the head with his sword, and cleft his body in twain to the very saddle; after which he fell upon Lukoper's army, and many as he slew with his battle-axe, as many again were trodden down under his horse's hoofs. Bova fought five days without resting, and overthrew well nigh the whole army; a small number only escaped, who fled to the Tsar Saltan, and said to him: "Our Lord Tsar Saltan Saltanovich, after we had taken prisoners Tsars Sensibri and Marcobrun, and had overthrown all their enemies, a young fellow of handsome look rushed out of Sensibri's city, who slew your brave son Lukoper in single combat, and routed our whole army. He is even now in pursuit of us, slaying all whom he can overtake, and will presently attack you."

On hearing this, Tsar Saltan was seized with terror, and hastened with his troops on board his ships, leaving all his tents and treasures behind, cut the cable, and instantly set sail from the Armenian kingdom. But hardly had he left the shore when Bova rode into the camp, and found not a single living soul except the Kings Marcobrun and Sensibri, who lay bound hand and foot beside Saltan's tent. Bova Korolevich freed them from their bonds, and rode with them back to the Armenian kingdom.

On the way Sensibri Andronovich said to Bova: "My trusty servant Anhusei, I see your fidelity and valour; I owe my liberty to you, and I know not how to reward you: ask of me whatsoever you desire—my treasures are at your command." Then Bova answered: "My gracious lord King, I am rewarded by your royal favour, and ask no more; but I will serve you faithfully to the best of my power." And as they conversed thus they came to the Armenian city, where they feasted and made merry. Then Bova lay down to sleep, and slept nine days and nine nights.

At length Kings Sensibri and Marcobrun, tired of feasting, rode out into the fields to hunt for three days. And meanwhile it happened that the Chamberlain, jealous of the favour that the King showed to Bova, called to him thirty young fellows and said: "My friends, you see that this rascal Anhusei has deceived our King and the Princess Drushnevna, and, turning their favour from us, drives us from their presence. Come with me into the stable where he sleeps; let us put him to death, and I will reward you with gold and silver, with jewels and fine clothes." When Orlop had told his plan, one of the thirty answered: "We are not strong enough to slay Anhusei in his sleep; should he awake he would kill us all. A better plan would be for one of us to lie in the King's bed, whilst he is out at the chase, to summon Anhusei, and give him a letter to the Tsar Saltan Saltanovich desiring him to put Anhusei to death."

When the Chamberlain Orlop heard this he leaped for joy, embraced the fellow who had given this wicked advice, and rewarded him more than the rest. And when the letter was prepared, Orlop went and lay down in the King's bed, called Bova to him, and said: "Do me a service, Anhusei; take this letter and give it to the Tsar Saltan with your own hand. On your return I will reward you in any way you may desire." Bova, who was half asleep, did not discover the cheat, but took the letter, went out and saddled a good horse, and rode off to the kingdom of the Tsar Saltan.

Bova rode for two months, until he came to a desert, where there was neither river, brook, nor fountain, and grew sore athirst. At length he met a pilgrim, who had a leather bottle full of water, and he begged him for a draught to quench his thirst. The old man secretly put a sleeping powder into the water and gave it to Bova; but hardly had he drunk it than it took effect, and he fell from his horse and slept like one dead. Then the old man took the battle sword, mounted the horse and rode off, leaving Bova alone and unarmed in the midst of the desert.

Bova slept on for ten days; and when he awoke and saw that his steed, his sword, and battle-axe were all gone he wept bitterly and said to himself: "It seems that I am doomed to lose my life in this service, and that King Sensibri has sent me to Tsar Saltan only to meet death in return for my fidelity." Then he went his way on foot, and his head hung lower than his shoulders.

When Bova Korolevich appeared before the Tsar Saltan he bowed to the ground, handed him the letter and said: "Long life to you, gracious lord and Tsar Saltan Saltanovich! I am sent by King Sensibri to your Majesty to bring news of his health, to enquire after yours, and to deliver to your Majesty this letter." Then Saltan took the letter, broke the seal, and after reading it exclaimed aloud: "Where are my valiant knights, my faithful servants and warriors? Seize this messenger from King Sensibri, and lead him to the gallows, for he has slain my dear son and destroyed our mighty army."

Thereupon sixty of Saltan's knights rode forth, surrounded Bova, and led him into the open fields to hang him. On the way Bova bethought him how he could have deserved such a shameful death, and to lose his life in the flower of his days. "Better had it been," said he, "if my mother had killed me in the city of Anton, or if I had been slain by Marcobrun's nobles or by Lukoper in the field." And with that he rose up, overthrew all the sixty knights, and fled out of the kingdom.

When the Tsar Saltan heard this, he instantly commanded the trumpets to sound, and collected his knights to the number of a hundred thousand, pursued Bova Korolevich, and surrounded him on all sides. Bova had neither a good steed, a sharp sword, nor a steel lance—he had nothing with which to defend himself. Then he seized one of Saltan's warriors, and began to fight with him; but he saw that he could not slay them all, and gave himself up prisoner. So they seized him, bound his hands, and led him before Saltan Saltanovich. As soon as the Tsar saw Bova he ordered the hangman to be fetched, to hang him.

Just then the Tsar's daughter, the fair Princess Miliheria, fell on her knees before her father and said: "My gracious lord and father, do not let Bova be hung, but allow me to speak; his death will not bring either my brother or your army to life again. Rather grant him his life, turn him to our faith, and make him the successor to your throne. Then will he be a defence in war to your old age."

The Tsar answered: "My dear daughter, Miliheria, you comfort me with your tender words and wise advice; I give Bova into your hands, and if he embraces our faith he shall be my successor and your husband, and I will resign to him all my cities and villages, my treasures of gold and jewels."

The Tsar's daughter made her obeisance to her father, left the hall, and ordered Bova to be brought before her. Then she endeavoured with gentle speech to persuade him to adopt her faith; but Bova answered that neither for the whole kingdom, nor all the treasures of gold and jewels, would he consent to change his faith.

Then Miliheria commanded Bova to be led to prison, and the entrance to be stopped up with sand, and that he should have no food nor drink for five days. At the end of this time she put on a gold-embroidered dress, adorned with jewels, and went to the prison. Then she ordered the sand to be removed, and the door to be opened, and, going in, she said to Bova: "Now, young fellow, have you considered the matter? Will you change your faith, and live, and rule over my father's kingdom, or have you not yet overcome your obstinacy and will rather end your life on gallows?"

"Never, as long as I live, will I deny my faith," answered Bova, "nor abandon it for yours. Tempt me not in vain with cunning words and promises; I will rather suffer death than be a despicable man."

The Princess Miliheria was very angry at Bova's answer; she went instantly to her father and said: "My lord and father, I confess to you my wrong in having interceded for the life of this unbelieving prisoner, in the hope of converting him to our faith, and making him a good subject of your Majesty. But now I see his obstinacy and hard heart, I no longer plead for him, but give him back into your hands; do with him as you will." And so saying she went out.

Saltan Saltanovich, on hearing this, called to him thirty bold knights, and sent them to Bova's prison; but when they came thither they could not remove the sand from the door as the Tsar's daughter, in her anger, had heaped up too much; and they thought of taking off the roof and dragging Bova out. Then Bova Korolevich was sad at heart, and said, weeping: "Alas, I am the most unfortunate of men! I have neither sword nor battle-axe, while my foes are numberless, and I am moreover weakened by five days' hunger and confinement." Then he sat down in a corner of the prison and felt close to him on the ground a sword of steel. He seized it, overjoyed, turned it round and round, and scarcely trusted his unlooked-for prize. Then he went to the spot where Saltan's knights were letting themselves down into the prison; and cutting off their heads, one after the other as they came down, he laid them in a heap.

Meanwhile Saltan was awaiting the return of the knights whom he had sent after Bova; at last he was angered at their long delay, and sent as many more to their help; but Bova slew these likewise, and piled up their bodies in a heap; and climbing up this he escaped from prison and hastened to the harbour, where he saw a ship lying at anchor. Then he cried with a loud voice: "Ho, masters! take an honest young fellow on board your ship! Save me from a cruel death, and I will reward you richly."

When the merchants heard this they sent a boat to the shore and took Bova Korolevich on board the ship. Presently his pursuers came galloping up in pursuit of Bova, and with them the Tsar Saltan Saltanovich himself. Then Saltan cried aloud to the sailors: "Ho! you foreign merchants, surrender instantly yon malefactor, who has escaped from my prison and taken refuge in your ship! Deliver him up or I will never again allow you to trade in my kingdom, but command you to be seized and put to a miserable death."

The merchants were terrified by these threats, and were about to send Bova back to shore; but he drew a sword from under his cloak, laid about him, and slew them right and left. At the sight of this the rest fell on their knees before him, and promised to sail with him wherever he wished. Then Bova ordered them to set sail and steer for the open sea. And after a voyage of three months they came to the kingdom over the Don; and not knowing it he enquired of a fisherman what country it was he saw in the distance. "Yonder lies the Sadonic kingdom," replied the fisherman, "and the king of it is named Marcobrun." Then Bova asked: "Can it be the same Marcobrun who went to seek the hand of the daughter of King Sensibri?" "The same," replied the fisherman, "and he has not long returned home with his betrothed, the Princess Drushnevna; their wedding is speedily to be celebrated."

When Bova Korolevich heard this, he staggered, and for a time could not utter a word. At length he came to himself, and said to the fisherman: "Land me on the other side, my good fellow, and I will reward you handsomely." Then he divided among the ship's crew the property of the merchants he had slain, took leave of them, and went to the Sadonic kingdom. On landing, Bova directed his steps towards Marcobrun's chief city. For two days he went on and on without meeting anyone. On the third day he met the pilgrim who had given him the sleeping powder and robbed him of his sword, his battle-axe, and steed. Then Bova seized and flung him on the ground, saying: "Villain! you robbed me with a pitcher of water, carried off my brave steed, and left me helpless in a desert, to be torn to pieces by wild beasts. Now take your reward and die."

Then the pilgrim entreated Bova for mercy: "Brave knight, have pity and grant my life! I will give back your horse, your sword, and battle-axe, and, for my crime, three powders besides. Wash yourself with one of these and you will become old, so that no one will recognize you; if you wash with the second, you will grow young as before; and if you put the third powder into any person's drink he will sleep as soundly as if he were dead for nine days."

When Bova Korolevich heard this, he took the powders, the battle sword, and the battle-axe; but gave back the horse and his clothes to the pilgrim. Thereupon he washed himself with the first powder, and went to the royal court and began to beg alms in the kitchen, in the name of Bova Korolevich. One of the cooks, hearing this, seized a brand from the hearth, beat Bova on the head, exclaiming: "Be off, you worthless fellow! don't come begging here in Bova's name: it is forbidden in this country to utter his name under pain of death."

Bova did not feel the blow, but seized a brand, belaboured the cook, and said: "What mean you, scoundrel, to beat your betters? You might first have tried words before coming to blows." But the poor cook had already given up the ghost, and this exhortation was thrown away upon him. When his comrades saw this they ran out and told the Seneschal, who went into the kitchen and asked Bova how the matter stood. Then Bova said to the Seneschal: "Noble sir, I know not the customs of this country, and have heard nothing of your prohibition. I begged alms of your cook, in the name of Bova Korolevich, knowing that he was everywhere honoured for his valour; but the man beat me with a cudgel, without saying a word; I returned the blows and have killed him unintentionally."

When the Seneschal heard this, his anger was turned into favour, and he said to Bova: "Hark ye, old man; from this hour on never more beg alms in Bova's name, for we are commanded to slay anyone who speaks a word in his praise in this country; you are, however, pardoned for your ignorance. Go straight to the back court, where you will see the fair Princess Drushnevna, who gives alms to beggars like you. In three days her wedding with King Marcobrun is to be celebrated."

Bova bowed to the Seneschal, and went to the back court, where he beheld Drushnevna; but there was such a crowd of beggars that he could not make his way up to her, and many of them beat and pushed about the old man. This annoyed Bova, and he began to push in turn, and soon made his way to the fair Drushnevna, and said: "Gracious Princess, betrothed to the renowned King Marcobrun, give me alms, in the name of Bova Korolevich!"

When the Princess heard these words her countenance changed: she let fall from her hand the dish with the money, and could scarcely stand. Then she ordered one of her maids to distribute the alms amongst the beggars, called Bova to her, and asked him why he had begged alms in that name. And Bova answered: "My gracious Lady, I know Bova Korolevich well, for I was with him in the same prison, in the kingdom of the Tsar Saltan; we ate black bread and drank dirty water together, and I shared with him hunger and cold; he confessed to me that you, fair Princess, loved him dearly, and had pledged him your word to marry no one but him. Therefore I have had the boldness to beg alms in his name."

"Ah, my good man," said Drushnevna, "where did you leave Bova Korolevich? If I but knew where he was I would instantly go and seek him, were it through thrice nine lands to the thirtieth country."

"He was released from prison with me," replied Bova; "and I came to this kingdom in his company; he stayed behind, and whither he is gone I know not; but I wandered to this city." As he spoke, King Marcobrun entered, and saw tears in Drushnevna's eyes; he asked her why she wept, and whether anyone had offended her. "No, King Marcobrun, I wept on hearing from this man that my father is lying on his death-bed." Then Marcobrun ordered Bova to go away, and tried to comfort the Princess. "My dear Drushnevna, grieve not for your father's illness; he will recover; your grief cannot help him, and will only injure your health: your dark eyes will be dimmed with tears, and sorrow will destroy your beauty."

As the King was speaking, Bova went into the stable, where his trusty steed stood fastened with twelve chains. And when the horse heard his brave rider approach, he began to burst through the iron doors and break his chains; and having done so, and escaped into the open fields, he galloped up to Bova, seated himself on his hind legs, and tried to embrace him. Bova seized him by the mane and stroked his neck.

When the grooms saw this they went and told it all to Marcobrun. And the King hastened into the courtyard, and saw Bova and the horse; then, calling to him, he ordered him to serve in the stables of his court and to tend his war-horse. When the Princess Drushnevna heard this, she summoned Bova and asked him how he could undertake to tame this steed, which no one ever ventured to approach on account of his rage. And Bova answered: "Gracious Princess, this horse is restive and fierce to King Marcobrun's grooms, who have never ridden on him; but he knows his former master in the kingdom of Sensibri Andronovich, and him he obeys. The horse recognized me at once, and you have thrice spoken with me, and have not discovered that I am Bova Korolevich!"

So saying, he was going away, but the Princess held him back, and said: "Trouble me not with your prate, old man, nor mock my grief; I know Bova Korolevich; he is young and handsome, but you are old and grey-headed."

"If you believe me not," replied Bova, "order some water to be brought, and you shall see whether I speak the truth." So they brought a basin of water, and Bova washed himself before the eyes of Drushnevna with the white powder, and instantly he was young and handsome as before. And when the Princess saw this she jumped from her seat for joy, threw her arms round Bova's neck, and said: "My dear friend, Bova Korolevich, for your sake I have refused these three years to obey my father and listen to the suit of King Marcobrun; but not hearing any tidings of you for so long a time I thought you were dead, and was compelled, against my will, to come with Marcobrun to his kingdom. Here I have deferred the wedding from day to day, in the hope of hearing some tidings of you; but now that I see you face to face I can boldly dismiss Marcobrun and wander with you to the end of the world."

"My dear Drushnevna," replied Bova Korolevich, "you may rely on my valour; but we cannot now leave this place openly on account of the great number of Marcobrun's warriors, and the multitudes of people, whom not ten of the bravest knights could slay, especially in the heart of their city. But take this powder and mix it in Marcobrun's drink: he will then sleep soundly for nine days, and in this time we can fly from his dominions."

Hardly had he spoken, given her the powder, and gone away, when King Marcobrun came in. Then Drushnevna spoke with him softly and kindly, brought him a glass of sweet mead on a silver tray, and shook the sleeping powder into it: Marcobrun, charmed by her coaxing manner, instantly took the mead, drank it off, and presently fell asleep.

The Princess Drushnevna went out and ordered her faithful servants to bring her a good nag, and the kingly steed for Bova Korolevich. Then she gave him a suit of armour, and in the darkness of the night they fled out of the kingdom. For three days they rode on without stopping, and on the fourth they chose out a pleasant spot, halted by a clear brook, pitched a tent, and, tired with their journey, fell fast asleep.

It was a fine morning when Bova Korolevich took his steed to water, and on a sudden the horse began to neigh and stamp on the ground, and thus gave Bova to understand that an enemy was advancing against him. Then he saddled his steed, donned his armour, girded on his battle sword, and went into the tent and took leave of Drushnevna saying: "My dear Princess, I am going out to fight with a great army, but grieve not for me. Before the sun goes down I shall have gained the victory and returned to you." So saying, he rode forth against the enemy, and defeated them, so that only three men were left alive. And when he heard that the army was sent by Marcobrun in pursuit of him, he said to these three knights: "Tell King Marcobrun to beware of pursuing me lest he lose his whole army, for he knows well who I am." Thereupon these three rode back to their King, and told him that Bova had slain the army of three hundred thousand men, and that they three alone survived. Then Marcobrun ordered the trumpets to sound, and assembled an army of four million men, and said to his boyars: "My faithful servants, pursue Bova, and bring him and Drushnevna alive to me." And all the kingdom answered with one voice: "Our Lord and King, you have a knight Polkan who has been confined in prison for many years; perhaps he can overtake Bova, for he clears seven versts at a single leap. From his head to his waist he is a man—the rest of his body is in the form of a horse."

On hearing this from the knights, Marcobrun sent immediately for Polkan, and said to him: "Sir Polkan, pursue Bova Korolevich and bring him and Drushnevna to me; I will reward you richly." So Polkan promised to fulfil his command, and hastened after Bova and the Princess.

One day Bova was walking in the fields near his tent when on a sudden he heard Polkan come running; he stepped into the tent and said to Drushnevna: "My dear Princess I can hear a powerful knight come riding this way in the direction from Marcobrun's kingdom; but I do not know whether he will prove a friend or foe." Then Drushnevna answered: "No doubt it is some one whom Marcobrun has sent in pursuit of us, and he must be the stout knight Polkan, who can leave behind him seven versts at a bound: he will soon overtake us."

Bova took his battle sword, mounted his steed, and rode forth. Polkan met him, and cried aloud with a terrible voice: "Ha, rascal! you shall not escape out of my hands!" And so saying, he tore up by the roots an oak of a hundred years' growth and struck Bova with it on the head; but Bova staggered not under the blow; with both hands he seized his battle sword, and aimed at Polkan to slay him; but he missed his blow, and the sword was struck half-way up to the hilt in the earth, and Bova fell from his saddle. Then Polkan caught his horse; but the horse began to fight with his feet, and bite with his teeth, until Polkan fled. The horse followed him, until Polkan's strength quite failed him and he dropped half-dead near the tent of Bova Korolevich. Then Bova went up to Polkan and asked him whether he had rather live or die; and Polkan replied: "Brother Bova, let us make peace with one another and be brothers, and there will not be our match in the wide world." So Bova made a treaty with Polkan, and Bova was to be the elder and Polkan the younger brother.

Then Bova mounted his good steed and Drushnevna her palfrey, and Polkan followed them. Thus they rode for a long time, and at length they saw before them the city of Kostel, in which ruled the Tsar Uril. And when Uril heard of their approach he ordered the city gates to be closed and made fast. Then Polkan ran and leaped over the walls and opened the gates, whereupon Bova and Drushnevna rode into the city. The Tsar Uril came to meet them with the Tsarina, and conducted them with great honour into the palace, and they all fell to feasting and making merry.

Meanwhile King Marcobrun advanced against the city of Kostel with three times a hundred thousand men, beleaguered the city, and sent an ambassador to the Tsar Uril, commanding him fiercely to deliver up to him Bova, Drushnevna, and Polkan. Then Tsar Uril assembled his army, took with him his two sons, and went out to fight with Marcobrun; they fought bravely, but Marcobrun overthrew their whole army, and took the Tsar and his sons prisoners. Then Uril promised King Marcobrun to deliver up Bova, Drushnevna, and Polkan, and left his sons as hostages. So Marcobrun dismissed the Tsar Uril, and gave him a million and a half men from his army, to fetch Bova and Polkan.

The Tsar Uril went into his chamber and lay down to sleep; but Polkan stepped to the door of his room and listened to what the Tsar should say of him to his wife. Then the Tsar told the Tsarina how he had left his sons as hostages with Marcobrun and promised to deliver up Bova, Drushnevna, and Polkan. And the Tsarina replied: "My dear husband, it is impossible to give them up." At these words the Tsar struck her in the face, saying: "Women have long hair, but short wits." When Polkan heard this he was enraged, opened the door, entered the room, seizing the Tsar by his head, flung him to the ground and killed him.

Polkan now looked down into the courtyard and perceived that it was filled with Marcobrun's soldiers; so, without more ado, he took Bova's battle sword and slew ten thousand men, drove all the rest out of the city, closed the gates, and barred them fast, after which he returned into the castle, awakened Bova Korolevich, and told him all that had happened. Bova embraced him and thanked him for his faithful service; thereupon they armed themselves, and rode out of the city against Marcobrun's army. Bova took the right side and Polkan the left, and they overthrew the whole army, and set free the children of the Tsar Uril. King Marcobrun fled into the Sadonic kingdom, and bound himself, his children, and his grandchildren with an oath never to pursue Bova.

Bova and Polkan now returned with Uril's sons to the city of Kostel; and when they arrived at the castle Bova said to the Tsarina: "Here are your children, Lady!" The remains of the army he made swear allegiance to Uril's sons, and left them to govern as before.

Then Bova rode with the knight Polkan and the fair Drushnevna to the city of Sumin, to his attendant Simbalda, in order to raise a small army to march against King Dadon and expel him from the city of Anton. They rode a long time, and at length halted in a meadow, and pitched their white tent to rest. Drushnevna had two sons born here, and Bova named one Litcharda and the other Simbalda.

One day, as Bova was walking with Polkan around his tent, they beheld in the distance a thick cloud of dust; then said Bova to Polkan: "Hasten and see whether an army is advancing, or a bold knight comes riding this way, or a merchant's caravan is on the road." When Polkan heard this request, he rode forth and presently brought back some warriors bound. And Bova asked: "Tell me, you warriors, freely and without resistance, what power comes yonder, and from what country, who is your King, and wherefore are you sent out?" The soldiers answered: "Brave Knight, we are sent with a great army by King Dadon to the kingdom of Armenia to demand the stepson of our King who ran away in his youth, to be given up by the Tsar Sensibri Andronovich; his name is Bova."

"Face about, and tell the commander of your army not to march into the Armenian kingdom, but await me on the spot where you meet him. I am Bova Korolevich, and will soon follow you to inspect your army."

So saying, Bova dismissed the prisoners, and said to Polkan: "Comrade, I will now ride out to fight with Dadon's army which is sent against me: I pray you to remain near my white tent to protect my wife against enemies and wild beasts; but tell her not that I am gone out to battle; for I shall soon return to reward your faithful service, and if need be, to lay down my life for you." So saying he took leave of Polkan, mounted his steed, and rode with all haste against Dadon's army; and he speedily laid about him right and left, and slew them until the few who survived fell on their knees and begged for mercy.

Whilst Bova was thus engaged, and Drushnevna was sitting in the tent, two huge lions rushed out of the forest and flew at Polkan to tear him to pieces. Polkan attacked them bravely, and slew one with a single stroke; but the other lion he could not overcome so easily, and after a long fight Polkan and the lion at last both fell dead. Shortly after Drushnevna went out of the tent, and when she saw the dead bodies of Polkan and the lions she thought that Bova must also have been killed by these wild beasts. So she took her two sons, mounted her palfrey, which was tied up to the tent, and rode away from that fearful spot as fast as she could.

When Drushnevna arrived at the city of the Tsar Saltan, she dismounted and turned her palfrey loose in the fields, saying: "Go your way, rove where you will, my trusty nag, until you find a good master!" Then she went to a brook, washed herself with the black powder, and became on a sudden dark-coloured and haggard; and thus she went her way to the city.

After Bova Korolevich had destroyed King Dadon's army, he returned to the place where he had left his wife and Polkan, to take them with him to the city of Sumin. When he came to his tent, what was his horror at beholding the dead bodies of Polkan and the lions; and, not finding either Drushnevna or her children in the tent, he imagined that the lions had killed both Polkan and his wife. Then sorrow struck Bova to the heart, and after weeping long and bitterly upon that fatal spot, he rode off alone to his faithful attendant Simbalda.

When Bova arrived at the city of Sumin he was received with great honour by Simbalda; and he speedily ordered an army to be assembled, took with him Tervis, the son of Simbalda, and marched against the city of Anton.

At this time King Dadon was living in his city, without care or trouble, and awaiting from hour to hour the surrender of Bova by King Sensibri, little dreaming that the army he had sent to fetch him had been destroyed. On a sudden messengers came running to him to announce that Bova Korolevich was besieging the city of Anton on all sides. When King Dadon heard this, he instantly commanded his whole army to be assembled; and he collected above thrice one hundred thousand men, and marched out to battle. But Bova did not wish to shed blood needlessly, and ordered all his warriors not to stir from the spot. Then he looked steadfastly at Dadon, rode at him full gallop, and struck him a sword-blow on the head which, though a light one, cleft his skull, and Dadon fell dead from his horse. Bova ordered the body to be taken up and borne into the city of Anton that Queen Militrisa should herself behold his end. Meanwhile he went to his father's grave and wept over it, and then returned to the city of Sumin.

When Dadon's body was brought before Militrisa, she fell to weeping bitterly; and, as she washed the blood off with her tears, she perceived that he was still living. Instantly she sent her faithful servants into all the kingdoms round about to fetch a doctor for King Dadon, promising to reward him richly.

Bova, on learning that Dadon was still alive, and had sent to seek a doctor, resolved to go himself to the city of Anton, disguised as a physician, and to kill King Dadon. Thereupon he washed himself with the black powder, and was instantly changed into an old man, dressed himself like a doctor, and took with him Tervis and a sharp sword. On reaching the city, Bova sent word to King Dadon that some physicians had come from a foreign country to cure his wounds. When the King heard this he instantly commanded the strangers to be brought before him, and promised that if they healed his wounds they should be richly rewarded. Then Bova Korolevich bowed himself, and said that he would speedily cure the King; but that all the bystanders must go away, and leave the King alone with him. Dadon instantly assented; and as soon as they were alone, Bova seized him by his beard, drew the sword from under his cloak, and exclaimed: "Villain, take the reward for letting yourself be seduced by the beauty of Queen Militrisa treacherously to murder my father."

So saying, Bova struck off King Dadon's head, laid it upon a silver dish, covered it with a white cloth, and went to his mother Militrisa. When he entered her chamber he said to her: "My gracious Mother, I am come to inform you that your beloved husband Dadon is quite recovered from his wounds, and has sent us to announce the glad tidings to you with this present." Thereupon he gave into her hands the dish, with King Dadon's head upon it. When Militrisa raised the cloth and beheld the head, she was so horror-struck that for some time she could not utter a word; at length she fell to tearing her hair and clothes, and took an oath to kill Bova Korolevich for slaying Dadon and having called himself her son.

Then Bova took some water, washed himself with the white powder, and in an instant was young and handsome as ever. Militrisa at once knew him, fell at his feet, and began to beg for pardon. But Bova ordered Tervis to take her and nail her up in a cask, and roll her into the sea. Then he called together the princes and boyars and announced to them that he was Bova Korolevich, the rightful heir to the throne of his father Guidon, returned from foreign lands, and required of them the oath of allegiance. Immediately all the princes, boyars and others swore fidelity to Bova, and wished him a happy accession to the throne; after which the King ordered feasts and rejoicings to be made for a whole month.

After the feasts Bova sent an ambassador with presents to Saltan, to demand his daughter, Miliheria in marriage, as he believed Drushnevna to have been torn to pieces by the lions. Then Saltan sent for his daughter and said: "My dear child, I have just received a letter from the knight whom you shut up in prison and endeavoured to convert to our faith. He is a King's son, and rules over his own kingdom: he has sent me presents, and sues for your hand. Tell me now whether you will give your consent."

On hearing this the Princess Miliheria was glad at heart, and said that she was ready in all things to obey her father's will. The same day Saltan received presents from the ambassador, and forthwith ordered everything to be prepared for the journey.

Whilst all this was passing, the Queen Drushnevna was living in the same city, and washed linen for her livelihood. And thus she maintained her two sons, who grew not from day to day, but from hour to hour, and surpassed all other children in beauty. She had no thought that Bova Korolevich was still alive; but when by chance she heard that an ambassador had been sent by him to the Tsar Saltan to demand the hand of his daughter, and that Saltan had consented to the match, she took with her her two sons, and went into the city of Anton where he ruled, travelling slowly and with great fatigue. At length she arrived, the very same day that Bova was to be married to Miliheria. Then she washed herself with the white powder, and was as beautiful as ever; and she sent her sons to the castle to present themselves to Bova Korolevich, and inform him of their condition and adventures.

Litcharda and Simbalda (so the boys were named) stationed themselves in the passage through which Bova had to pass with his princes and boyars on his way to dinner. And as he was entering his apartment, his eye fell upon the lads, and he asked who they were, and for whom they were waiting. Then the elder son made his obeisance and said: "We are, O King, the children of the most renowned knight and hero in the wide world, Bova Korolevich, and the fair Queen Drushnevna; our beloved father left us when very young in the open country under a tent, with our mother and the knight Polkan, who was killed by lions. But we fled from the spot, with our mother, and have ever since been wandering about in various countries in search of our father."

Then Bova Korolevich embraced them tenderly, exclaiming: "My sons, my sons! I am your father, and little had I hoped to have ever seen you again alive. But where is my beloved wife, your mother?"

Then Litcharda told him where they had left Drushnevna; and Bova instantly sent some of his boyars to conduct her to the castle.

When Bova beheld her again he was overjoyed; and, for such unexpected happiness, he ordered the feasting to be doubled, and the taxes to be remitted to his subjects for the two whole months. His faithful servant Simbalda he rewarded with many towns; and to his son Tervis he gave the fair Miliheria Saltanovna; then he sent them to her father, bidding him to love and honour his new son-in-law, and adding, that it had been impossible for him to marry her after the return of his wife Drushnevna.

Then Bova sent Simbalda's brother Ohen with an army into the Armenian kingdom to win it from Orlop, whom he ordered to be put to death. Bova gave the Armenian kingdom to Ohen and his successors; but he himself remained in the city of Anton, and ruled happily.



THE MILD MAN AND HIS CANTANKEROUS WIFE

There lived once upon a time, in great poverty, a countryman and his wife: he was mild as a calf, and she as cunning as a serpent. She abused and drubbed her husband for every trifle. One day she begged some corn of a neighbour to make a loaf of bread, and she sent her husband with it to the mill to have it ground. The miller ground the corn, but charged them nothing on account of their poverty; and the countryman set out on his return home with his pan full of flour. But on a sudden there arose such a strong wind that in the twinkle of an eye all the flour was blown out of the pan, which he carried on his head. So he went home and told his wife; and when she heard it she fell to scolding and beating him without mercy; and she threatened him on and on, until at length she grew tired; then she ordered him to go to the wind which had blown away the flour and get paid for it, either in money or in as much flour as there had been in the pan.

The poor countryman, whose bones ached with the blows he had received from his wife, went out of the house weeping and wringing his hands; but whither to turn his steps he knew not. And at last he came to a large and dark forest, in which he wandered here and there. At last an old woman met him and said: "My good man, where are you going, and how are you going to find your way? What has brought you into this country, where rarely a bird flies, and rarely does a beast run?"

"Good Mother," replied the man, "force has driven me hither. I went to the mill with some corn, and when it was ground I shook the flour into a pan and went my way home; but suddenly a wind arose and carried off the flour out of the pan; and when I came without it to the house and told my wife, she beat me, and has sent me to seek the Wind, and ask him either to give me back the meal or to pay me for it in money. So now I go here and there to look for the Wind, and know not where to find it."

"Follow me," said the old woman: "I am the mother of the Winds, and have four sons; the first son is the East Wind, the second is the South Wind, the third is the West Wind, and the fourth the North Wind. Tell me, now, which Wind it is that has blown away your meal?"

"The South Wind, Mother dear," answered the countryman.

Then the old woman led the man deeper into the forest, and came to a little hut, and said: "Here I live, master woodman; creep on to the stove, and wrap yourself up; my children will soon be here."

"But why should I wrap myself up?" said the peasant.

"Because my son the North Wind is very cold, and you would be frozen," said the old woman.

Not long after, the old woman's sons began to assemble; and when at length the South Wind came, the old woman called the countryman from the stove and said to her sons: "South Wind, my dear son, a complaint is brought against you; why do you injure poor folks? You have blown away this man's flour from out of his dish; pay him now for it with money, or how you will."

"Very well, Mother," replied the Wind, "I will pay him for his flour." Then he called the countryman and said: "Hark ye, my little farmer, take this basket; it contains everything you can wish for—money, bread, all kinds of food and drink; you have only to say: 'Basket, give me this and that,' and it will instantly give you all you desire. Go home now—you have here payment for your flour." So the countryman made his bow to the South Wind, thanked him for the basket, and went his way home.

When the man came home, he gave the basket to his wife, saying: "Here, wife, is a basket for you, which contains everything you can wish for—only ask it." So the good woman took the basket, and said: "Basket, give me good flour for bread!" And instantly the basket gave her as much as ever she could desire. Then she asked again for this thing and that, and the basket gave her everything in the twinkling of an eye.

A few days after, it happened that a nobleman passed by the countryman's cottage; and when the good woman saw him, she said to her husband; "Go and invite this lord to be our guest; if you don't bring him here, I will beat you half dead."

The countryman dreaded a beating from his wife. So he went and invited the nobleman to dinner. Meanwhile the good woman took all kinds of food and drink out of the basket, spread the table, and then sat down patiently at the window, laying her hands in her lap, awaiting the arrival of her husband and their guest. The nobleman was astonished at receiving such an invitation and laughed, and would not go home with the man; but instead, he ordered his servants who attended him to go with the countryman, to dinner, and bring him back word how he treated them. So the servants went with the countryman, and when they entered his cottage, they were greatly amazed: for, to judge by his hut, he must be very poor, but from the dishes upon the table he was evidently a person of some consequence. Then they sat down to dinner, and made merry; but they remarked that, whenever the good woman wanted anything, she asked the basket for it, and obtained all she required. So they did not leave the room at once, and sent one of their comrades home to make as quickly as possible just such another basket and bring it to them, without letting the countryman or his wife observe it.

Thereupon the man ran as fast as he could, and got a basket just like the other; and when he brought it to the cottage, the guests secretly took the countryman's basket and put theirs in its place. Then they took leave of the man and his wife, and returned to their master and told him how daintily the countryman had treated them.

The countryman's wife threw away all the food that was left, intending to cook fresh on the morrow. The next morning she went to her basket and began to ask it for what she wanted; and when she found that the basket gave her nothing, she called her husband and said: "Old Greybeard, what basket is this you have brought me? Likely enough it has served us once and for all; and what good is it now if it gives us nothing more? Go back to the Wind and beg him to give us back our flour, or I'll beat you to death."

So the poor man went back to the Winds. When he came to the old woman, their mother, he fell to complaining of his wife. The old woman told him to wait for her son, who would soon come home.

Not long after came the South Wind, and the countryman began to complain of his wife. Then the Wind answered: "I am sorry, old man, that you have such a wicked wife; but I will assist you, and she shall not beat you any more. Take this cask, and when you get home and your wife is going to beat you, place yourself behind the cask and cry: 'Five! out of the cask and thrash my wife!' and when they have given her a good beating, then say: 'Five! back to the cask!'" Then the peasant made a low bow to the Wind, and went his way.

When he came home he said: "There, I have brought you here a cask instead of the basket."

At this the good woman flew into a rage and said: "A cask, indeed! What shall I do with it? Why have you brought back no flour?" And, so saying, she seized the poker, and was going to beat her husband. But the poor man stepped quietly behind the cask and cried: "Five! out of the cask! Thrash my wife instantly!" In a moment five stout young fellows jumped out of the cask and fell to cudgelling the woman. And when her husband saw that she was beaten enough, and she begged for mercy, he cried: "Five! back to the cask!" Then instantly they stopped beating her, and crept back into the cask.

The countryman thought over his loss and decided to go forthwith to the nobleman and challenge him to fight. The nobleman laughed outright at the folly of the man; nevertheless he would not refuse, as he wished to have some sport; so he told the man to go into the field. So he tucked his cask under his arm, betook himself to the field, and waited for the nobleman, who came riding to meet him with a number of attendants; and, when he drew near, he ordered his servants, for a joke, to thrash the peasant soundly. The man saw that they were mocking him, and he was wroth with the nobleman, and said: "Come, Sir! give me my basket back this instant, or it shall fare ill with you all, I promise!" Nevertheless they did not stop beating, so he cried out: "Out, Five to each! thrash them soundly!" Immediately five stout fellows sprang out of the cask upon every man of them and began to beat them unmercifully. Then the nobleman thought that they would kill him, and roared out with might and main: "Stop, stop, my good friend and hear me!" So the countryman, upon this, cried: "Hold! you fellows! back to the cask!" Then they all stopped beating, and crept back into the cask again. And straightways the nobleman ordered his servants to fetch the basket and give it to the countryman, who took it and hied back home, and lived ever after with his wife in peace and harmony.



STORY OF THE DUCK WITH GOLDEN EGGS

Once upon a time there lived an old man named Abrosim, with his old wife Fetinia: they were in great poverty and want, and had a son named Ivanushka, who was fifteen years of age. One day the old man Abrosim brought home a crust of bread for his wife and son to eat; but hardly had he begun to cut the bread than Krutchina (Sorrow) sprang from behind the stove, snatched the crust out of his hands and ran back. At this the old man bowed low to Krutchina, and begged her to give him back the bread as he and his wife had nothing to eat. Old Krutchina answered: "I will not give you back the bread; but I will give you instead a duck, which lays a golden egg every day."

"Well and good," said Abrosim; "at all events I shall go to bed without a supper to-night; only do not deceive me, and tell me where I shall find the duck."

"Early in the morning, as soon as you are up," replied Krutchina, "go into the town and there you will see a duck in a pond; catch it and bring it home with you." When Abrosim heard this, he laid himself down to sleep.

Next morning the old man rose early, went to the town, and was overjoyed when he really saw a duck in the pond: so he began to call it, and soon caught it, took it home with him, and gave it to Fetinia. The old wife handled the duck and said she was going to lay an egg. They were now both in great delight, and, putting the duck in a bowl, they covered it with a sieve. After waiting an hour, they peeped gently under the sieve and saw to their joy that the duck had laid a golden egg. Then they let her run about a little on the floor; and the old man took the egg to town to sell it; and he sold the egg for a hundred roubles, took the money, went to market, bought all kinds of vegetables, and returned home.

The next day the duck laid another egg, and Abrosim sold this also; and in this way the duck went on, laying a golden egg every day, and the old man in a short time grew very rich. Then he built himself a grand house, and a great number of shops, and bought wares of all sorts, and set up in trade.

Now, Fetinia had struck up a secret friendship with a young shopman, who did not care for the old woman, but persuaded her he did to make her give him money. And one day, when Abrosim was gone out to buy some new wares, the shopman called to gossip with Fetinia, when by chance he espied the duck; and, taking her up, he saw written under her wing in golden letters: "Whoso eats this duck will become a Tsar." The man said nothing of this to Fetinia, but begged and entreated her for love's sake to roast the duck. Fetinia told him she could not kill the duck, for all their good luck depended upon her. Still the shopman entreated the old woman only the more urgently to kill and cook the duck; until at length, overcome by his soft words and entreaties, Fetinia consented, killed the duck and popped her into the stove. Then the shopman took his leave, promising soon to come back and Fetinia also went into the town.

Just at this time Ivanushka returned home, and being very hungry, he looked about everywhere for something to eat; when by good luck he espied in the stove the roast duck; so he took her out, ate her to the very bones, and then returned to his work. Presently after, the shopman came in, and calling Fetinia, begged her to take out the roast duck. Fetinia ran to the oven, and when she saw that the duck was no longer there she was in a great fright, and told the shopman that the duck had vanished. Thereat the man was angry with her, and said: "I'll answer for it you have eaten the duck yourself!" And so saying he left the house in a pet.

At night Abrosim and his son Ivanushka came home, and, looking in vain for the duck, he asked his wife what had become of her. Fetinia replied that she knew nothing of the duck; but Ivanushka said: "My father and benefactor, when I came home to dinner, my mother was not there; so, looking into the oven, and seeing a roast duck, I took it out and ate it up; but, indeed, I know not whether it was our duck or a strange one."

Then Abrosim flew into a rage with his wife, and beat her till she was half-dead, and hunted his son out of the house.

Little Ivan betook himself to the road, and walked on and on, following the way his eyes led him. And he journeyed for ten days and ten nights, until at length he came to a great city; and as he was entering the gates, he saw a crowd of people assembled, holding a moot; for their Tsar was dead, and they did not know whom to choose to rule over them. Then they agreed that whoever first passed through the city gates should be elected Tsar.

Now just at this time it happened that Little Ivan came through the city gates, whereupon all the people cried with one voice: "Here comes our Tsar!" and the Elders of the people took Ivanushka by the arms, and brought him into the royal apartments, clad him in the Tsar's robes, seated him on the Tsar's throne, made their obeisance to him as their sovereign Tsar, and waited to receive his commands. Ivanushka fancied it was all a dream; but when he collected himself, he saw that he was in reality a Tsar. Then he rejoiced with his whole heart, and began to rule over the people, and appointed various officers. Amongst others he chose one named Luga, and calling him, spoke as follows: "My faithful servant and brave knight Luga, render me one service; travel to my native country, go straight to the King, greet him for me, and beg of him to deliver up to me the merchant Abrosim and his wife; if he gives them up, bring them hither; but if he refuses, threaten him that I will lay waste his kingdom with fire and sword, and make him prisoner."

When the servant Luga arrived at Ivanushka's native country he went to the Tsar, and asked him to give up Abrosim and Fetinia. The Tsar knew that Abrosim was a rich merchant living in his city, and was not willing to let him go; nevertheless, when he reflected that Ivanushka's kingdom was a large and powerful one, fearing to offend him, he handed over Abrosim and Fetinia. And Luga received them from the Tsar, and returned with them to his own kingdom. When he brought them before Ivanushka, the Tsar said: "True it is, my father, you drove me from your home; I therefore now receive you into mine: live with me happily, you and my mother, to the end of your days."

Abrosim and Fetinia were overjoyed that their son had become a great Tsar, and they lived with him many years, and then died. Ivanushka sat upon the throne for thirty years, in health and happiness, and his subjects loved him truly to the last hour of his life.



STORY OF BULAT THE BRAVE COMPANION

There was once upon a time a Tsar named Chodor, who had an only son, Ivan Tsarevich. Chodor gave him in his youth various masters to teach him the different knightly exercises; and when Ivan was grown up, he begged leave of his father to travel in other countries, in order to see the world. Tsar Chodor consented, and bade him show his skill and valour in foreign lands, and bring renown on his father.

Then Ivan Tsarevich went into the royal stables to choose a good steed; and he thought that if he could find one on whose back he could lay his hand, without the horse's going on his knees, it would be just the one to suit him. So he looked in all the stalls, but found no horse to his mind, and he went his way with a heavy heart. Then he took his crossbow and arrows and roved about in the open fields to drive away his sadness. As he was walking thus along, he saw high in the air a swan, and he drew his bow and shot; but he missed the swan, and his arrow vanished from his sight. Then Ivan was sad at losing a favourite arrow, and with tears in his eyes he sought for it the whole field over. At last he came to a little hill, and heard a man's voice calling to him: "Come hither, Ivan Tsarevich!" Ivan wondered to himself not a little at hearing a voice and seeing no one. But the voice called again; and Ivan went toward the spot whence it came, and remarked in the hill a little window, with an iron lattice; and at the window he saw a man, who beckoned to him with the hand. Ivan came up, and the man said to him: "Why are you so sad, my good lad, Ivan Tsarevich?"

"How can I help grieving?" replied Ivan; "I have lost my favourite arrow, and can find it nowhere, and my sorrow is the greater because I can not discover a steed to please me."

"That is no great matter to grieve for," said the man; "I will get you a good horse, and give you back your arrow since it flew down to me here; but what will you give me for it?"

"Anything you ask," replied Ivan, "if you will give me what you promise."

"Nay," said the man, "I want nothing more than that you will free me from this place."

"And how and by whom were you caged up thus?"

"Your father imprisoned me here," replied the man. "I was a famous robber, and was called Bulat the Brave Companion. He was enraged against me, and ordered me to be taken and imprisoned; and here I have been confined for three-and-thirty years."

"Hark ye, Bulat, brave Companion," said Ivan, "I cannot set you free without my father's consent; were he to hear of it he would be wroth."

"Fear not," replied Bulat; "your father will hear nothing; for as soon as you set me at liberty I shall go into other lands and not live here."

"Well then," said Ivan Tsarevich, "I consent, only on condition that you give me back my arrow and tell me where I can find a trusty steed."

"Go into the open fields," said Bulat the Brave Companion, "and there you will see three green oaks; and, on the ground under these oaks, an iron door, with a copper ring. Under the door is a stable, in which stands a good steed, shut in by twelve iron doors with twelve steel locks. Heave up this door, strike off the twelve steel locks, and open the twelve doors; there you will find a horse; mount him and come to me; I will give you back your arrow, and then you will let me out of this prison."

When Ivan Tsarevich heard this he went into the open fields, saw the three green oaks, and found the iron door with the copper ring. So he hove up the door, knocked off the twelve locks, and opened the twelve doors, and entered a stable, where he beheld a knightly steed and a suit of armour. Then Ivan Tsarevich laid his hand upon the horse, and the horse fell not upon his knees, but merely bent himself a little. And as soon as the horse saw a knight standing before him, he neighed loudly, and let Ivan saddle and bridle him. Ivan Tsarevich took the steed, the battle-axe, and sword, led the horse out of the stable, leaped into the Tcherkess saddle, and took the silken bridle in his white hand. Then Ivan wished to try his steed, and struck him on the flank: the horse chafed his bit, and rose from the ground, and away he went over the tall forests and under the flying clouds, left hill and dale beneath his feet, covered small streams with his tail, bounded over wide rivers and marshes; and so at last Ivan came to Bulat the Brave Companion, and said with a loud voice: "Now give me back my arrow, Bulat my brave fellow, and I will let you out of your cage." So Bulat instantly gave him back his arrow, and Ivan set him free.

"I thank you, Ivan Tsarevich," said Bulat, "for giving me freedom. I will, in return, render you good service; whenever you are in any difficulty, and want me, only say: 'Where is my Bulat, the Brave Companion?' and I will instantly come to you and serve you faithfully in your need."

So saying, Bulat cried with a loud voice:

"Sivka Burka! he! Fox of Spring! Appear! Like a grass blade, here Stand before me!"

Instantly a steed stood before Bulat the Brave, who crept into his ear, ate and drank his fill, and then crept out at the other ear; and he became such a handsome youth as no one can imagine, no pen can describe, nor story tell. Then Bulat mounted his horse and galloped off, exclaiming: "Farewell, then, for the present, Ivan Tsarevich!"

Ivan now mounted his good steed and rode to his father, and with tears in his eyes, took leave of him; then, taking with him his squire, he rode forth into foreign lands. And after they had ridden for some time they came to a wood; the day was bright and hot, and Ivan Tsarevich grew thirsty. So they wandered all about the wood, seeking water, but could find none. At length they found a deep well, in which there was some water; and Ivan said to his squire: "Go down the well and fetch me up some water; I will hold you by a rope to prevent you being drowned."

"Nay, Ivan Tsarevich," said the squire, "I am heavier than you, and you cannot hold me up; you had better descend, for I can support you."

So Ivan followed his squire's advice, and let himself down into the well. And when Ivan had drunk enough, he told the squire to draw him up; but the squire answered: "Nay, I will not draw you out until you give me your word in writing that you are my servant and I am your master, and that my name is Ivan Tsarevich; if you refuse this I will drown you in the well."

"My dear squire," cried Ivan, "do not drown me, but draw me up, and I will do all you desire." "No, I don't believe you," said the squire; "swear me an oath." So Ivan swore that he would be true.

Thereupon the squire drew him out, and Ivan Tsarevich took a piece of paper, wrote the writing, and gave it to the squire. Then he took off his own cloak, and exchanged it for the squire's, and they went on their way. After some days they came to the kingdom of the Tsar Panthui. And when the Tsar heard of the arrival of Ivan Tsarevich he went out to meet him; and, greeting the false Tsarevich, he took him by the white hands, conducted him into his marble halls, seated him at his oaken table, and they feasted and made merry. Then Tsar Panthui asked the false Tsarevich what had brought him to his kingdom, and he answered: "My gracious lord, I am come to sue for the hand of your daughter, the fair Princess Tseria."

"Gladly will I give you my daughter to wife," replied Panthui.

In the course of their talk the false Ivan said to the Tsar Panthui: "Let my servant, I pray, do the lowest work in the kitchen, for he has greatly annoyed me on my journey." So the Tsar immediately commanded Ivan to be set to do the most menial work, whilst his squire feasted and made merry with the Tsar.

A few days after this an army was seen marching against the kingdom of Panthui, threatening to lay it waste and take the Tsar prisoner. Thereupon Panthui called the false Ivan and said: "My dear future son-in-law, a hostile army has come to attack my dominions: drive the enemy back and I will give you my daughter, but only on this condition." And the squire answered; "Well and good, I will do as you desire; but only by night—in the day I have no luck in fight."

As soon as night drew on and everyone in the castle had gone to rest, the false Ivan went out into the open court, called to him the true Tsarevich, and said: "Ivan Tsarevich, be not angry with me for taking your place; forget it all, do me one service, and drive the enemy from this kingdom." And Ivan answered: "Go and lie down to sleep—all shall be accomplished." Then the squire went and lay down to sleep, and Ivan cried with a loud voice: "Where is my Bulat, the Brave Companion?" In an instant Bulat stood before him, and asked: "What service do you require now? What is your need? Tell me forthwith." Then Ivan Tsarevich told him his need, and Bulat desired him to saddle his horse and put on his armour; and then cried with a loud voice:

"Sivka Burka! he! Fox of Spring! Appear! Like a grass blade, here Stand before me!"

The horse bounded till the ground shook; from his ears rose a column of steam, and from his nostrils issued flames; but when he came up to Bulat he stood still. Then Bulat the Brave Companion mounted the horse, and Ivan Tsarevich seated himself upon his steed, and so they rode forth from the courtyard. Meanwhile the Princess Tseria, who was not yet asleep, was sitting at the window, and overheard all that Ivan Tsarevich had spoken with the squire and Bulat the Brave Companion.

As soon as they reached the hostile army, Bulat said to Ivan: "Fall thou upon the enemy on the right, I will attack them on the left." And so they began to mow down this mighty army with the sword, and to trample them down with their horses' hoofs; and in an hour's time they had stretched on the earth a hundred thousand men. Then the hostile King fled with the small remains of his army back into his own kingdom, and Ivan Tsarevich returned with Bulat the Brave Companion to the castle of the Tsar Panthui, unsaddled his steed, led him into the stable, and gave him white wheat to eat. After that he took leave of Bulat the Brave Companion, went back into the kitchen, and lay down to sleep.

Early the next morning the Tsar went out on to his balcony, and looked forth over the country where the hostile army lay; and when he saw that it was all cut down and destroyed, he called to him the false Ivan, and thanked him for having saved his kingdom; he rewarded him with a rich present and promised soon to give him his daughter to wife.

After a fortnight the same Tsar marched again with a fresh army and besieged the city. And the Tsar Panthui in terror called again upon the false Ivan and said: "My dear friend, Ivan Tsarevich, save me once more from the enemy, and drive them from my kingdom, and I will immediately give you my daughter to wife." And so it all fell out again exactly as before, and the enemy were quite driven away by Ivan and Bulat the Brave.

The hostile King, however, soon returned to attack Tsar Panthui a third time, and over and over again he was driven back, until at last he was himself killed. Then Ivan and Bulat the Brave Companion went back, unsaddled their steeds, and put them into the stable. Thereupon Bulat took leave of Ivan Tsarevich, and said: "You will never see me more." With this he mounted his horse and rode forth; and Ivan went into the kitchen and lay down to sleep.

Early the next morning the Tsar went again on to his balcony, and looked forth over the country where the hostile army had been; and when he saw that it was all destroyed, he sent for his future son-in-law and said: "Now I will give you my daughter to wife." Then all the preparations were made for the wedding; and a few days after, the squire married the fair Princess Tseria; and when they had returned from church, and were sitting at table, Ivan Tsarevich begged the head cook to let him go into the banquet-hall and see his master and his bride seated at the table. So the cook consented, and gave him a change of dress. When Ivan entered the royal hall he stationed himself behind the other guests and gazed at his squire and the fair Tseria. But the Princess espied Ivan, and recognised him instantly; then she jumped up from the table, took him by the hand, led him to the Tsar, and said: "This is the true bridegroom and the saviour of your kingdom, and not yon man who was betrothed to me."

Then the Tsar Panthui asked his daughter what it all meant, and begged her to explain the mystery. And when the Princess Tseria had related to him all that had passed, Ivan Tsarevich was placed at the table beside her, and his squire was shot at the gate for his treacherous conduct. Ivan married the Princess, and returned with her to his father's kingdom. Tsar Chodor placed the crown upon his head, and Ivan mounted the throne, and ruled over the kingdom.



STORY OF PRINCE MALANDRACH AND THE PRINCESS SALIKALLA

In a certain country, in the city of Anderika there lived a Tsar, a clever man, named Abraham Tuksalamovich, with his wife for thirty years in peace and happiness, but they had no child. At last Tsar Abraham Tuksalamovich prayed, with tears, that Heaven would give them a son; their wish was fulfilled, and they had a brave little boy, whom they named Malandrach Abrahamovich. The little fellow grew, not by days but by hours; as buck-wheat dough rises with yeast, so did the Tsarevich grow and grow. The Tsar had his son taught all kinds of arts; and when the boy came to mature years, he went to the Tsar and said: "My lord and father, you have instructed me in various arts, but there is one which I have not yet learnt."

"My bold and dear son, Malandrach," said the Tsar, "tell me and let me know what art you desire to learn; I will provide you careful teachers." And thereupon the Tsarevich answered: "My lord and father, yesterday I was reading a Swedish book, in which I found that there are people able to fly in the air with wings. I have now a great desire to learn this art, and I entreat you to procure me masters who may teach it me."

The Tsar replied: "My bold child, it is impossible that men should fly in the air; you must have been reading something silly, or a fairy-tale; do not believe such stories. Nevertheless, I will send into all foreign lands to make search for any such people; and if they can be found I will order them to be brought hither, and have you instructed in their art."

When the Tsar wants them, he does not wait for beer to be brewed nor brandy to be distilled; so the Tsar instantly sent messengers into distant lands, commanding them to seek everywhere for flying men, and, if they found any, to bring them to his Court. So the messengers went forth into various countries, and after three years they found a master of the art in the city of Austripa, and brought him to the Tsar Abraham; and when Malandrach saw him he was overjoyed. Then the Tsar asked this person whether he understood the art of flying, and the man replied: "Gracious sovereign, although it is not for me to praise myself, yet in truth I am the first master in our country. If your Majesty desire me to teach Prince Malandrach to fly in the air only command a large and lofty hall to be built, two hundred ells long and as many wide, and one hundred ells in height: this hall must be quite empty, have a great number of windows, and a little closet adjoining it."

When the Tsar heard this, he instantly ordered such a palace to be built at once. And as soon as all was ready, the highflyer made two pairs of wings—one for himself and the other for Malandrach—and he began to teach the Tsarevich to fly in this hall, fastening the wings on to himself and Malandrach; and when he left off teaching, he laid the two pairs of wings in the closet, locked them up, and took the key with him. But one day it happened, when the Tsarevich had taken his lesson, and the master locked up the wings in the closet, that Malandrach observed this, and, without saying anything to his teacher, went with him to his father.

Now, just at this time the Tsar had a great feast prepared, and a large number of guests were invited. Then Malandrach, without saying a word to anyone, hastened to the large hall, took his wings from the closet, fastened them on to his shoulders, went into the courtyard, and began to flap his wings. Thereupon he flew up on to the lofty building, alighted upon it, and resting there, gazed with delight over his father's kingdom. After awhile he wished to descend upon the ground, but suddenly a shudder came over him, and he dreaded to let himself down from such a height; and, instead of descending, he mounted higher and higher, until at length the earth appeared only like an apple, he had flown so high.

Just then a strong wind arose, which carried Malandrach Tsarevich into an unknown country; and his strength failed him, so that he could not manage his wings, and he began to fall. Then he beheld the wide sea beneath him, and was exceedingly terrified; but, collecting his remaining strength, he rose aloft again, and looked around on all four sides to see whether any shore was to be seen. At length he descried in the distance a small island; so he flew towards it, and alighting, he took off his wings and took them under his arms. Thereupon he set out rambling about the island in search of food, for he was sorely pinched by hunger; and he found by chance a tree with sweet fruit upon it, of which he ate his fill. Then he lay down to sleep upon the grass, under a spreading tree, and slept there until daybreak.

In the morning Malandrach arose and was about to fasten on his wings; but his arms ached so much that he could not move them; so he was obliged to stay there ten long days. On the eleventh day, however, he fastened on the wings, blessed himself, mounted high into the air, and looked around on all sides to seek for his father's kingdom; he could not, however, discover it, but toward evening he espied a shore, upon which was a thick forest; so he alighted, took off his wings, and following a path, he came at last to the gates of a city. Then he concealed his wings under a bush, and going into the city, enquired for the market. And when they showed him the way, he went to it, and bought a long cloak. Then he returned to the forest, put his wings under his arm, and betook himself again to the city, where he met a man whom he asked: "Know you, friend, of any dwelling that is to be let?" The stranger replied: "You are doubtless a foreigner?"

"As you say," replied the Tsarevich Malandrach; "I am a merchant from India, and have come hither in a ship with my wares. Our vessel was wrecked in a storm, and I was cast upon the shore of this kingdom upon a raft, to which I had made myself fast."

"My friend," said the stranger, "if you like, come and live with me; I will maintain you like my own son." So Malandrach willingly consented, and went home with the stranger, and lived in his house more than a month, never going outside the courtyard. His host, observing this, asked him: "Why do you never take a walk in the city and see the noble buildings and the old ruins?" Then Malandrach begged his host, whose name was Achron, to take a walk with him and show him the royal palace. So his host accompanied Malandrach about the city until evening, when they returned home and lay down to sleep.

The next day Malandrach Tsarevich awoke betimes, rose from bed, dressed and washed himself, said his prayers, and bowed to all four sides. And after breakfast he went alone to take a walk, till at length he came outside the city, and perceived an immense stone building, surrounded by a wall; he walked round this wall, and could see no gate, but only a little door, which was locked fast. Prince Malandrach marvelled greatly at this enormous building, and returning home, asked his host what it was. The man replied that it was a royal building, in which lived the daughter of the Tsar, named Salikalla; but the reason of her being shut up there he did not know.

When Malandrach Tsarevich heard this he took his wings and went back the next day to the stone building. There he waited until evening, then fastened on his wings, flew over the wall into the garden, and alighted on a tree. As he sat perched upon the tree, he looked towards the window at which the Tsarevna Salikalla sat, which was far, far off.

Soon she lay down to sleep, and Malandrach watched her; and in an hour's time he flew in at the window, which was left open. He went gently up to the Tsarevna, and saw that she was asleep; then he wished to awaken her with a kiss, but dared not. He stood gazing at her beauty and stayed there until near daybreak; then hastened home, fearing to awaken the Princess. So he silently took leave of her, and left behind a sign by which she might perceive that someone had been there. The sign was this: he laid her shoes on the bed, and then flew out of the window, went home, and lay down to sleep.

In the morning the Tsarevna awoke, and thought when she saw her shoes on the bed, that they had been laid there by her attendant, who slept in the adjoining room. Then she asked the servant, who replied that she had not done it, whereat the Princess wondered greatly.

In the evening Prince Malandrach went again to the stone palace, fastened on his wings, flew through the window, and gazed once more with delight on the beauty of the Tsarevna. Before daybreak, when he was obliged to return home, he again took the shoes, laid them at the head board of the bed, then flew out of the window, went home, and lay down to sleep.

When Salikalla awoke the next morning, and perceived the shoes again on the head board of her couch, she asked the servant whether she had laid them there. But the servant replied that she had not seen them; whereat the Princess wondered still more than before; and she resolved not to sleep the next night, but to watch who laid the shoes upon the couch.

The Tsarevich Malandrach waited until evening, then took his wings under his arm and returned to the palace; and when he thought that the Princess was asleep, he bound on his wings and flew in at the window. But hardly had he approached the couch and attempted to kiss her than the Tsarevna suddenly seized him with both hands, and exclaimed: "Who art thou? How dost thou dare to come hither?" Prince Malandrach knew not what to answer for astonishment, and fell to entreating pardon of the Tsarevna. She would not, however, let him go, until by threats she had made him tell her who he was, and how he had come into the palace. Then he told her the whole truth, from beginning to end; and the Tsarevna Salikalla was so pleased that she kissed his sugar lips, and begged him to remain, asking him to forgive her having been so rough and unkind.

"O my best beloved and most beautiful Tsarevna," replied Malandrach, "tell me truly, I pray, why art thou shut up alone in this palace without any living creature near you?"

Then the Princess told him the story of her life. "When I was born," she said, "my father summoned all the wise men to him, and asked them how long I should live; and they told my parents that until my fifteenth year I should live happily, but that then some evil should befall me, upon hearing which my father ordered this house to be built, and when I was ten years old he placed me here for ten years, and this is the sixth year I am here. My mother visits me once a month, and my father once a quarter, and a servant is given to attend upon me. My mother will be here in a week's time; tarry, dear Prince, meanwhile, and cheer my solitude."

The Tsarevich Malandrach readily consented, and the time passed quickly in various amusements and conversation, and at last they took an oath to marry each other. For more than a year they lived together thus, only separating when the time came round for the visits of the Tsarevna's parents. One day the Princess saw her mother coming unexpectedly to the palace to visit her. Then she called to Malandrach and begged him instantly to depart; but just at the moment when he had fastened on his wings and was flying out of the window the Tsarina observed him. Astonished at the sight, she asked her daughter what it meant, and pressed her so with entreaties and threats to tell her the truth, that Salikalla at last told her of the visit of Malandrach, and how he had come flying into her window.

When the Tsarina heard this she went straightway to the Tsar, and told him all that her daughter had related. Then the Tsar instantly sent a large body of men to seize Malandrach in the house of his host, and to bring him into his presence. And the soldiers went into the house where Malandrach lived, took him away and led him before the Tsar. Then the Tsar asked him whose son he was, from what country he had come, and what was his name. The Tsarevich replied, and told the plain truth. Thereupon the Tsar called his daughter Salikalla and said: "Tell me is this the same man who flew in through your window?" She answered that it was, and added that she loved him with her whole heart. Then the Tsar took his daughter by the hand and gave her to the Tsarevich Malandrach, saying to him: "My dearest son-in-law, receive from my hand my only daughter for your wife, and live with her in happiness and love." And, as when the Tsar wants it, beer is not brewed nor brandy distilled, the wedding was celebrated forthwith.

So Malandrach married the beautiful Princess Salikalla; and, after living with his father-in-law for half a year, he asked leave to go with his wife to his own father. Then the Tsar ordered a ship to be equipped and dismissed them with his blessing, and Malandrach sailed with his wife to his native country. When they arrived at the Court of his father, the Tsar Abraham was overjoyed at again seeing his beloved son, and asked him: "Where have you been this long while, and by what accident did you wander from my kingdom?" And Tsarevich Malandrach told his father the whole truth.

Tsar Abraham Tuksalamovich was now very old so he placed the crown on the head of his beloved son, and soon after died. Malandrach Abrahamovich lived with his beloved wife Salikalla many years in harmony and love.



STORY OF A SHOEMAKER AND HIS SERVANT PRITUITSHKIN

There lived in a certain kingdom a renowned Prince, Mistafor Skurlatovich, who had a servant named Goria, the son of Krutshinin. And Mistafor gave him a skilful master to teach him the art of shoemaking that he should become the best and most skilful of all workmen in that craft. Goria went on learning for several years, and became so clever that he made shoes even better than his master. Then Mistafor Skurlatovich took him into his house and ordered him to make some shoes; so he set to work and made twenty dozen pairs, but not a single pair of them satisfied Mistafor Skurlatovich. So he beat him unmercifully till the shoemaker, Goria Krutshinin, was half dead, and lay sick for ten long weeks.

As soon as Goria began to recover, Mistafor Skurlatovich ordered him to make some more shoes. And when Goria had finished several pairs he took them to his master to try on; but not a single pair pleased him. Then Skurlatovich flung the shoes at his head, and beat him until his face was covered with blood. Goria Krutshinin, who had one poor copper altine in his pocket, went to spend it in a public-house by the road-side, and, as he sat down, he said to himself: "I wish the devil would free me from this master of mine!"

Suddenly a stranger stood before him, and said: "Why are you in such a passion, my good lad?"

"How can I help it?" replied Goria, the shoemaker; "my master is as cruel as a mad dog; you see how he has dressed me down, and ten weeks ago he beat me even still more than now."

"Why does he beat you so?" said the stranger. And Goria replied: "I have learnt the art of shoemaking better than my teacher, and I make shoes for my master, but though I work for him all I can, do what I will, I never can please him; and instead of thanking me, he beats me as you see."

Then the stranger said: "I know your master well enough; you must be freed from his cruelty; and, if you like, I will marry Mistafor's daughter to you instead of to the Prince to whom she is betrothed."

"Are you mad?" said Goria; "what nonsense are you talking?" "Trust me," replied the stranger, "I can bring it all about." But the shoemaker could not believe him, and said: "You may talk and promise what you will, I do not believe a word." "Whether or no, you shall see that what I promise I can perform."