Part 8

Iván Tsarévich sat on the grey Wolf, and the Wolf ran with him into the kingdom of Tsar Výslav Andrónovich, and, whether it be long or whether it be far or whether it be near, they reached the town. Iván Tsarévich slipped off the grey Wolf and went into the town and arrived at the palace, and waited until his brother had returned with the Princess from the crowning; and they were sitting down at table.

When Eléna the Fair saw Iván Tsarévich, she jumped up at once from her chair and began to kiss his sweet lips and to cry out, “O my beloved bridegroom, Iván Tsarévich: this is he, and not that other who sits at table.”

Then Tsar Výslav Andrónovich stood up from his place and began to ask, and began to question the Princess Eléna the Fair what this might mean. Then the fair Princess told him all the real truth, how it had been.

Tsar Výslav Andrónovich was then very wroth with Dmítri and Vasíli and sent them into the darkness of the dungeon. Iván Tsarévich married Princess Eléna the Fair and lived with her friendlywise and lovingly, so that one might never be seen anywhere without the other.

THE PRIEST WITH THE ENVIOUS EYES

There was once a priest who lived in the parish of St. Nicholas. He served St. Nicholas for some years, and all his earnings were that he had neither house nor home, nor a roof over his head. So our good priest got together all his keys, and seeing the icon of St. Nicholas, struck it down, and left his parish to go whithersoever his eyes should guide him. And he went roaming on his way.

Suddenly an unknown man met him. “How do you do, good man?” he said to the pope.[18] “Whither are you going? and whence do you come?” “Take me with you as a companion.” So they went off together. They went on some _versts_, and became tired. It was time to rest.

Now the pope had two biscuits, and his new friend had two wafers. The pope said to him: “We will first of all eat up your wafers, and we will then go on with the biscuits.”

“All right!” the unknown man said to him. “Let us first eat up my wafers, and leave your biscuits for a dessert.”

So they ate the wafers, ate them all up, and they were fully sated, and there were still wafers over.

So the pope became envious. “Why,” he thought, “I will steal them.” The old man lay down to sleep after dinner, and the pope was all agog to see how he could steal those wafers. The old man went to sleep; so the pope abstracted the wafers from his pocket and silently began eating them.

The old man woke up and felt for his wafers, and could not find them anywhere. “Where are my wafers? Who has eaten them up? Have you, pope?”

“No, I did not,” answered the pope.

“Well, all right; I don’t mind.”

So they shook themselves up, and they went on their way and journey, went on and on, and the roads suddenly divided and they came to a carfax. So they both went on a single road and arrived at a kingdom. Now, in this kingdom the Tsar’s daughter was near her death, and the Tsar had promised any one who should cure her half of his reign and rule and realm; but any one who failed was to have his head cut off and placed on a pole.

When they arrived in front of the Tsar’s courtyard, they got themselves up finely, and they called themselves doctors. The henchmen sallied out of the Tsar’s courtyard, and asked them: “What sort of people are you? What is your race? What is your city? What do you require?”

“We,” they answered, “are doctors, and we can cure the Tsarévna.”

“Well, if you are doctors, come into the palace.”

So they went into the palace, looked at the Tsarévna, asked for special huts from the Tsar, for a can of water, for a curved sabre, and a large table. The Tsar gave them all they required.

They then locked themselves up in the huts, tied the princess down on the big table, cut her up with the curved sabre into little bits, put them all into the cauldron, washed them, and rinsed them out. Then they began to put them together—bit by bit, fragment by fragment. And the old man breathed on them. Piece clove to piece, and made one. Then he took all the pieces, breathed on them for the last time, and the princess trembled all over, and woke alive and well.

The Tsar himself came into their hut. “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost!”

“Amen!” they answered.

“Have you cured the Tsarévna?” asked the Tsar.

“Yes,” the doctors answered—“there she is!” The Tsarévna came out with the Tsar alive and well.

The Tsar said to the doctors: “What good thing do you desire—gold or silver? Ask and you shall have.” So they began to bring gold and silver. And the old man took as much as he could take with his thumb and two fingers, but the pope took it by handfuls, and he rammed it all into his wallet and hid it away, concealed it, lifted it up as much as ever his power could.

The old man then said to the pope: “Let us bury all the money in the earth and again go a-healing.”

So they went on and went on, and they arrived at another kingdom in which there also was a princess on the verge of death, and the Tsar promised any one who should cure her half of his realm and rule and reign; but any one who failed was to have his head cut off.

But the Evil One was tempting the envious pope—how he should manage to tell nothing to the old man, but to cure her by himself, and so get all the gold and silver for himself. So he dubbed himself a doctor, arrayed himself finely, and arrived at the Tsar’s courtyard, just as they had done before. In the same way he asked for the same implements from the Tsar, shut himself up in the special hut, tied the princess down on the table, took out the curved sabre; and however much the Tsarévna might cry out and wriggle, the pope disregarded all her shrieks, and all her yelpings, poor girl, and cut her to bits like mincemeat. He then cut it all up fine, threw it into the cauldron, washed it and rinsed it, took it out, put piece to piece exactly the same as the old man had done. And he then wanted to put them altogether, breathed on them—and nothing happened! He pumped his lungs out, but nothing happened. It was all to no purpose. So he put all the fragments back into the water, rinsed and scoured them through, fitting the pieces together, and breathed on them. It was all of no good.

“Oh, whatever shall I do?” the pope thought. “This is simply horrible!”

In the morning the Tsar went to him and saw that the doctor had had no luck. He had mixed up the whole body on the floor. So the Tsar ordered the doctor to the gallows.

The pope then began to beg. “Tsar! Tsar! I am a free man. Give me a short space of time. I will go and look out for another old man who can really cure the Tsarévna.” So the pope went to look for the old man, found him, and said: “Old man, I am a depraved sinner. The fiends tempted me. I wanted to cure the Tsar’s daughter all by myself, and I was not able, and they are now going to hang me. Do come and help me!”

So the old man went with the pope, and the noose was put round the pope’s neck. Then the old man said to the pope: “Pope, who ate up my wafers?”

“I really didn’t; I swear I didn’t!”

So they made him mount one rung higher, and again the old man said to him: “Pope, who ate my wafers up?”

“I really didn’t; I swear I didn’t!”

So he went up the third rung, and again said he didn’t. This time he had his head in the noose tight, and still he said: “I did nothing of the sort!”

So the old man said to the Tsar: “I am a free man. Will you let me cure the Tsarévna, and if I do not succeed, have a second noose got ready for my neck: one for me and one for the pope.”

Then the old man took the morsels of the Tsarévna’s body, bit by bit, breathed on them, and she arose alive and well.

Then the Tsar rewarded them both with gold and silver.

“Now let us go and divide the money,” said the old man.

So they started. They put all the money into three little piles, and the pope looked on, and said: “What do you mean? There are only two of us. Who is to have the third?”

Said the old man: “That is for the thief who ate up my wafers.”

“Oh, it was I who ate them up!” the pope cried out. “I really did! I swear it!”

“Then you may have all the money, and my own share as well. Henceforth serve your parish faithfully. Do not be a miser, and do not beat St. Nicholas on the shoulders with the keys!” the old man said, and vanished.

THE SOLDIER AND DEATH

Once upon a time there was a soldier who had served God and the Great Sovereign for twenty-five whole years, and had only in the end earned three biscuits, and was journeying back home. And, as he went along, he thought: “Lord! here am I; I have served my Tsar for twenty-five years, have received my food and dress, and what have I lived for after all? I am cold and hungry, and have only three biscuits to eat.” So he pondered and thought, and decided to desert and run away whither his eyes might lead him.

As he went along he met a poor beggar who asked alms of him. The soldier gave him one biscuit, and kept two. And, as he trudged on, he soon came across another poor beggar, who bowed down low and asked for alms. So the soldier gave him another biscuit, and had only one left. Again on he went, and met a third beggar. The old fellow bowed low and asked for alms. The soldier got his last biscuit out, and thought: “If I give him the whole, I shall have none left; if I give half, why, this old man will come across brother-beggars, will see they have a whole biscuit, and be offended. Better let him have it all, and I shall get on somehow.” So he gave his last biscuit, and had nothing left.

Then the old man asked him: “Tell me, good man, what do you wish? Of what have you need? I will help you.”

“God bless you!” the soldier answered. “How should I take anything of you?—you are old and poor.”

“Don’t think of my poverty,” he replied. “Just say what you would like, and I will requite you according to your own goodness.”

“I want nothing; but, if you have any cards, give me some as a keepsake.”

For the old man was Christ Himself walking on earth in a beggar’s guise. The old man put his hand into his breast and drew out a pack of cards, saying: “Take them. With whomsoever you play, you will win the game; and here you have a nosebag. Whatever you meet on the way, whether wild beast or bird that you would like to catch, just say to it: ‘Jump in here, beast or bird!’ and your wish will be carried out.”

“Thank you!” said the soldier, took the cards and the nosebag, and fared forth.

He went on and on, may-be far, may-be near, may-be short, may-be long, and arrived at a lake, on which three wild geese were swimming. Then the soldier suddenly remembered the nosebag and thought: “I’ll just test this nosebag”; took it out, opened it, and said: “Hi! you wild geese, fly into my nosebag!” No sooner uttered than the geese flew straight up from the lake into the bag. The soldier grabbed the bag, tied it up, and went on his way.

He travelled on and on and came to a town. He entered an eating-house and told the inn-keeper: “Take this goose and cook it for my supper, and I will give you another goose for your pains. Change me this third one for vódka.” So there the soldier sat like a lord in the inn, at his ease, drinking wine and feasting on roast goose.

It occurred to him suddenly he might peer out of the window, and he saw opposite a big palace, but not one pane of glass was whole. “What is this?” he asked the inn-keeper. “What is this palace? Why does it stand empty?”

“Why, don’t you know?” the master replied. “Our Tsar built himself this palace, but cannot inhabit it; and, for seven years, it has been standing empty. Some unholy power drives every one out of the place. Every night an assemblage of devils meets there, make a row, dance, play cards, and perpetrate every sort of vileness!”

So off the soldier went to the Tsar. “Your Imperial Majesty,” quoth he, “please let me spend one night in your empty palace!”

“What do you mean, fellow?” said the Tsar. “God bless you; but there have been some dare-devils like you who passed a night in this palace, and not one emerged alive!”

“Well, still, a Russian soldier cannot drown in water, or burn in fire. I served God and the Great Sovereign five-and-twenty years, and never died of it; and, for one night’s service for you, I am to die! No!”

“But I tell you: a man enters the palace at night alive, and only his bones are found there in the morning!”

But the soldier stood firm: he must be admitted into the palace.

“Well,” said the Tsar, “go, and God help you. Stay the night there if you will; you are free, and I won’t hinder you!”

So the soldier marched into the palace, and settled himself down in the biggest saloon, took his knapsack off and his sabre, put the knapsack in a corner and the sabre on a hand-peg, sat down on a chair, put his hand into his pocket for his tobacco-pouch, lit his pipe, and smoked at his ease. Then about midnight, I don’t know where from, hordes of devils, seen and unseen, scurried up, and made such a turmoil and row, and set up a dance with wild music. “What, you here, discharged soldier!” all the devils began yelling. “Welcome! Will you play cards with us?”

“Certainly; here I have a set ready. Let’s start!”

He took them out and dealt round. They began, played a game out, and the soldier won; another, and the same luck; and all the finessing of the devils availed them nothing; the soldier won all the money, and raked it all together.

“Stop, soldier,” the devils said. “We still have sixty ounces of silver and forty of gold. We’ll stake them on the last game.” And they sent a little devil-boy to fetch the silver.

So a new game commenced; and then the little devil had to pry in every nook and come back and tell the old devil: “It’s no use, grandfather—we have no more.”

“Off you go; find some gold!” And the urchin went and hunted up gold from everywhere, turned an entire mine inside out and still found nothing: the soldier had played everything away.

The devils got angry at losing all their money, and began to assault the soldier, roaring out: “Smash him up, brothers! Eat him up!”

“We’ll see who’ll have the last word if it comes to eating,” said the soldier, shook the nosebag open, and asked, “What is this?”

“A nosebag,” said the devils.

“Well, in you all go, by God’s own spell!” And he collected them all together—so many you couldn’t count them all! Then the soldier buckled the bag tightly, hung it on a peg, and lay down to sleep.

In the morning the Tsar sent for all his folks. “Come up to me and inform me how does it stand with the soldier. If the unholy powers have destroyed him, bring me his little bones.”

So off they went and entered the palace, and there saw the soldier trudging up and down gaily in the rooms and smoking his pipe. “Well, how are you, discharged soldier? We never expected to see you again alive. How did you pass the night? What kind of bargain did you make with the devils?”

“What devils! Just come and look what a lot of gold and silver I won off them. Look, what piles of it!” And the Tsar’s servants looked and were amazed. And the soldier told them: “Bring me two smiths as fast as you can. Tell them to bring an iron anvil and a hammer.”

Off they went helter-skelter to the smiths, and the matter was soon arranged.

The smiths arrived with iron anvil and with heavy hammers.

“Now,” said the soldier, “take this nosebag and beat it hard after the ancient manner of smiths.”

So the smiths took the nosebag, and they began to whisper to each other: “How fearfully heavy it is! The devil must be in it.”

The devils shrieked in answer: “Yes, we are there, father—yes, we are there! Kinsmen, help us!”

So the smiths instantly laid the nosebag on the iron anvil, and they began to knock it about with their hammers as though they were hammering iron.

Very soon the devils saw that they could not possibly stand such treatment, and they began to shriek: “Mercy on us!—mercy on us! Let us out, discharged soldier, into the free world. Unto all eternity we will not forget you, and into this palace never a devil shall enter again. We will forbid everybody—all of them—and drive them all a hundred _versts_ away.”

So the soldier bade the smiths stop, and as soon as he unbuckled the nosebag the devils rushed out, and flew off, without looking, into the depths of hell—into the abysses of hell. But the soldier was no fool; and as they were flying out he laid hold of one old devil—laid hold of him tight by his paw. “Come along,” he said; “give me some written undertaking that you will always serve me faithfully.”

The unholy spirit wrote him out this undertaking in his own blood, gave it him, and took to his heels.

All the devils ran away into the burning pitch, and got away as fast as they could with all their infernal strength, both the old ones and the young ones; and henceforth they established guards all round the burning pit and issued stern ordinances that the gates be constantly guarded, in order that the soldier and the nosebag might never draw near.

The soldier came to the Tsar, and he told him some kind of tale how he had delivered the palace from the infernal visitation.

“Thank you,” the Tsar answered. “Stay here and live with me. I will treat you as if you were my brother.”

So the soldier went and stayed with the Tsar, and had a sufficiency of all things, simply rolled in riches, and he thought it was time he should marry. So he married, and one year later God gave him a son. Then this boy fell into such a fearful illness—so terrible that there was nobody who could cure it—and it was beyond the skill of the physicians; there was no understanding of it. The soldier then thought of the old devil and of the undertaking he had given him, and how it had run in the undertaking: “I shall serve you eternally as a faithful servant.” And he thought and said: “What is my old devil doing?”

Suddenly the same old devil appeared in front of him and asked: “What does your worship desire?”

And the soldier answered: “My little boy is very ill. Do you know how to cure him?”

So the devil fumbled in his pocket, got out a glass, poured cold water into it, and put it over the head of the sick child, and told the soldier: “Come here, look into the water.” And the soldier looked at the water; and the devil asked him: “Well, what do you see?”

“I see Death standing at my son’s feet.”

“Well, he is standing at his feet; then he will survive. If Death stands at his head, then he cannot live another day.” So the devil took the glass with the water in it and poured it over the soldier’s son, and in that same minute the son became well.

“Give me this glass,” the soldier said, “and I shall never trouble you for anything more.” And the devil presented him with the glass, and the soldier returned him the undertaking.

Then the soldier became an enchanter, and set about curing the _boyárs_ and the generals. He would go and look at the glass, and instantly he knew who had to die and who should recover. Now, the Tsar himself became ill, and the soldier was called in. So he poured cold water into the glass, put it at the Tsar’s head, and saw that Death was standing at the Tsar’s head.

The soldier said: “Your Imperial Majesty, there is nobody in the world who can cure you. Death is standing at your head, and you have only three hours left of life.”

When the Tsar heard this speech, he was furious with the soldier. “What, what!” he shrieked at him. “You who have cured so many _boyárs_ and generals, cannot do anything for me! I shall instantly have you put to death.”

So the soldier thought and thought what he should do. And he began to beseech Death. “O Death,” he said, “give the Tsar my life and take me instead, for it doesn’t matter to me whether I live or die; for it is better to die by my own death than to suffer such a cruel punishment.”

And he looked in the glass, and saw that Death was standing at the Tsar’s feet. Then the soldier took the water and sprinkled the Tsar, and he recovered completely. “Now, Death,” said the soldier, “give me only three hours’ interval in order that I may go home and say farewell to my wife and my son.”

“Well, you may have three hours. Go,” Death replied.

So the soldier went away home, lay down on his bed, and became very ill.

And when Death was standing very near him, she said, “Now, discharged soldier, say good-bye quickly—you have only three minutes left to live in the bright world.”

So the soldier stretched himself out, took his nosebag from under his head, opened it, and asked: “What is this?”

Death answered: “A nosebag.”

“Well, if it is a nosebag, then jump into it!”

And Death instantly jumped straight into the bag. And the soldier, ill as he was, jumped up from his bed, buckled the nosebag together firmly, very tightly, threw it on his shoulder, and went into the Bryánski Woods, the slumbrous forest. And he went there, and he hung this bag on the bitter aspen, on the very top twig, and he went back home.