The simpleton went away weeping. “Why do you weep, my soul?” his wife asked him. “How can I help weeping? No matter how much I serve, I must lose my head! The king has commanded me to get for him the self-playing gusla.” “That is nothing at all; my brother makes them.” She gave him a ball of thread and a towel that she herself had made, and instructed him to take with him the king’s councilors, the same two boyars as before, and said: “Now you are going away for a very long time. The king may do an evil deed, he may be tempted by my beauty! Go to the garden and cut three twigs.” The simpleton cut three twigs in the garden. “Now strike the palace and myself with these twigs three times each, and God speed you!” The simpleton struck; his wife turned into a stone, and the palace turned into a stone mountain. Then the simpleton took the king’s two boyars and set out on his way: wherever the ball rolled, he followed.
After some time, a long time or a short time, and after he had gone some distance, a long distance or a short one, the ball rolled into a thick forest, straight to a little hut. The simpleton entered the hut and there found an old woman sitting. “Greetings, little grandmother!” he said. “Greetings, my good man! Whither is God taking you?” “Little grandmother, I seek a master who can make a self-playing gusla for me, one that plays by itself, and that plays such tunes that everyone is forced to dance to its music willy-nilly.” “Ah, my own son makes such guslas! Wait a while, he will soon be home.” After a little while the old woman’s son came home. “Master,” the simpleton said to him, “make a self-playing gusla for me.” “I have a gusla all made and ready; I will give it to you as a gift, but on this condition: when I tune the gusla, no one must sleep! And if anyone falls asleep and fails to rise when I call him, he must lose his head!” “Very well, master!”
The master set to work and began to tune the self-playing gusla; one of the boyars became dreamy from the sound of the music and fell sound asleep. “Are you sleeping?” the master called to him. The boyar did not rise nor answer, and his head rolled on the floor. After two or three minutes, the other boyar fell asleep; his head also came off his shoulders. Another minute passed, and the simpleton dozed off. “Are you sleeping?” the master called. “No,” said the simpleton. “I am not sleeping! Only my eyes stick together from weariness after my journey. Have you not some water? I want to wash them.” The old woman brought some water. The simpleton washed himself, took his embroidered towel, and began to wipe himself. The old woman glanced at the towel, recognized her daughter’s handiwork, and said: “Ah, my dear son-in-law! I did not expect to see you. Is my daughter well?” And at once they fell to kissing and embracing. For three days they rejoiced, and ate and drank and refreshed themselves. Then came the time to say farewell. The master gave his brother-in-law the self-playing gusla as a farewell gift; the simpleton took it under his arm and set out on his way home.
He walked and walked, came out of the thick forest onto the highway, and made the self-playing gusla play—if he had been listening to it for a hundred years, he would still not have heard it enough! He happened to meet a brigand. “Give me your self-playing gusla,” the fellow said, “and I will give you my stick!” “And what is your stick good for?” “Oh, it is not an ordinary stick. Just say to it: ‘Eh, stick, strike and hit!’ and it will kill a whole army!” The simpleton exchanged the gusla for the stick, took the stick, and commanded it to kill the brigand. The stick flew at the brigand, hit him once or twice, and slew him. The simpleton took back the self-playing gusla and went on.
He came to his own country. “Why should I go to the king?” he thought. “There is time for that! I would rather see my wife first.” He struck the stone mountain with his three twigs, once, twice, thrice, and the marvelous palace was there; he struck the stone, and his wife stood before him. They embraced, greeted each other, exchanged two or three words; then the simpleton took the gusla—and he did not forget the stick—and went to the king. When the king saw him, he thought: “Ah, there is no way to get rid of him, he fulfills every task!” He fell upon the simpleton, cursing and shouting: “You miserable wretch! Instead of reporting to me immediately, you went first to embrace your wife!” “I beg pardon, Your Majesty!” “I cannot make a fur coat out of your contrition! Nothing you say will win my forgiveness. Hand me my steel sword!” The simpleton saw that the time had come to settle their accounts, and cried: “Eh, stick, strike and hit!” The stick flew at the king, struck him once, struck him twice, and slew him. And the simpleton became king in his stead and ruled long and mercifully.
THE GOLDFISH
NEAR THE SHORE of an island in the ocean stood a small, dilapidated hut; in this hut lived an old man and his wife. They lived in dire poverty. The old man made himself a net and began to catch fish in the sea, for that was his only means of livelihood. One day the old man cast his net and began to pull on it; it seemed to him heavier than it had ever been before—he could barely drag it out. He looked, and the net was empty; there was only one fish in it. It was not an ordinary fish, but a goldfish. The goldfish implored him in a human voice: “Do not take me, old man. Let me go back into the blue sea; I will return your kindness by doing whatever you wish.” The old man thought and thought and said: “I do not want anything of you; go back to the sea!” He threw the goldfish into the water and returned home. His wife asked him: “Did you get a big catch, old man?” “Only one little goldfish,” the old man replied, “and even that I threw back into the sea—it implored me so earnestly, saying, ‘Let me go back into the blue sea, and I will return your kindness by doing whatever you wish.’ I took pity on the little fish, I did not demand anything of it but let it go free, for nothing.” “Ah, you old devil!” said his wife. “You had a great chance but did not know how to take advantage of it.”
The old woman became full of spite, abused her husband from dawn to dark, and did not give him a minute’s rest. “At least you should have asked for some bread! Soon we won’t even have a dry crust. What will you eat then?” The old man could not bear it any longer and went to the goldfish to ask for bread. He came to the sea and cried in a loud voice: “Goldfish, goldfish, stand with your tail to the sea, and your head to me!” The goldfish came to the shore. “What do you want, old man?” he asked. “My wife is furious at me, she sent me to you to get some bread.” “Go home, you will find plenty of bread.” The old man returned. “Well, wife, do we have plenty of bread?” he asked her. “We have plenty of bread, but we have this trouble: our trough broke, I have nothing to do my washing in. Go to the goldfish and ask him to give us a new trough.” The old man went to the sea, and said: “Goldfish, goldfish, stand with your tail to the sea, and your head to me!” The goldfish came, saying: “What do you want, old man?” “My wife sent me to ask you for a new trough.” “Very well, you will have a new trough.” The old man returned and as soon as he crossed the threshold his wife again beset him. “Go to the goldfish,” she said, “ask him to build us a new house; it is impossible to live in this one—any minute, it may fall apart.”
The old man went to the sea. “Goldfish, goldfish,” he said, “stand with your tail to the sea, and your head to me!” The fish came, stood with his head to the old man, and his tail to the sea, and asked: “What do you want, old man?” “Build us a new house. My wife scolds me and does not give me any rest. ‘I don’t want to live in this old hut,’ she says, ‘it may fall apart any minute.’ ” “Grieve not, old man, go home and pray to God: everything will be done.” The old man returned, and on his plot stood a new oaken house, richly carved. His wife ran out to meet him; she was even angrier than before and abused him roundly. “You old dog, you don’t know how to take advantage of your luck. Just because you have got a new house, you think you have accomplished something! Now, go back to the goldfish and say to it that I don’t want to be a peasant—I want to be a governor, so that law-abiding men will obey me and bow from their waists when they meet me.”
The old man went to the sea and said in a loud voice: “Goldfish, goldf
ish, stand with your tail to the sea, and your head to me!” The goldfish came, stood with its tail to the sea, and its head to him. “What do you want, old man?” he asked. The old man answered: “My wife gives me no peace, she has become quite foolish; she does not want to be a peasant woman, she wants to be a governor.” “Very well, grieve not, go home and pray to God: everything will be done.” The old man returned, and instead of a wooden house there was a stone house of three stories; servants ran about in the courtyard, cooks bustled in the kitchen, and the old woman, dressed in rich brocade, sat on a high-backed chair and gave orders. “Good day, wife,” said the old man. “You boor, how dare you call me, the governor, your wife? Hey there, you servants! Take this peasant to the stable and whip him as hard as you can!”
The servants ran up, seized the old man by his collar, and dragged him to the stable, and there the stable boys began to thrash him with whips; they thrashed him so hard that he could barely stand on his feet. Then the old woman appointed the old man to be her janitor; she ordered a broom to be given him to sweep the yard, and he had to eat and drink in the kitchen. The old man led a miserable life. All day long he had to clean the yard; if any dirt was discovered, he was led to the stable. “What a witch!” thought the old man. “She has found a comfortable hole and dug herself in like a sow; she does not even consider me her husband any longer.”
Some time passed; the old woman became weary of being governor, summoned the old man before her, and ordered: “Go to the goldfish, old devil, and tell him that I don’t want to be a governor, I want to be a queen.” The old man went to the sea and said: “Goldfish, goldfish, stand with your tail to the sea, and your head to me!” The goldfish came. “What do you want, old man?” he asked. “My wife has become even more foolish,” the old man answered. “She no longer wants to be a governor, she wants to be a queen.” “Grieve not, go home and pray to God: everything will be done.” The old man returned, and instead of the house he found a lofty castle with a golden roof; around it sentries walked and presented arms. Behind the castle was a large garden, and in front of it was a green meadow; in the meadow troops were gathered. The old woman was dressed like a queen; she came out on the balcony with generals and boyars and began to review the troops. The drums thundered, the band played, the soldiers cried “Hurrah!”
After some time the old woman became weary of being a queen; she ordered the old man to be found and brought into her august presence. A tumult arose, the generals bustled about, the boyars ran everywhere. “What old man?” they asked. At long last he was found in the backyard and led before the queen. “Listen, you old devil,” she said to him. “Go to the goldfish and say to him that I don’t want to be a queen. I want to be the ruler of the sea, so that all the seas and all the fishes will obey me.” The old man tried to refuse, but in vain. “If you do not go,” she said, “your head will roll.”
Taking his courage in his hands the old man went to the sea. When he came there he said: “Goldfish, goldfish, stand with your tail to the sea, and your head to me!” The goldfish did not come. The old man called a second time—still the goldfish did not come. He called a third time, and suddenly the sea began to roll and roar; it had been bright and clear a moment before but now it grew quite black. The fish came to the shore. “What do you want, old man?” he asked. “My wife has become even more foolish. She no longer wants to be a queen, she wants to be the ruler of the sea, to rule over all the waters and command all the fishes.” The goldfish did not say anything to the old man but turned around and went down to the depths of the sea. The old man returned home, and when he looked, he could not believe his eyes. The castle was gone as though it had never been there, and in its place stood a small, dilapidated hut, and in the hut sat his wife in a ragged dress. They began to live as before. The old man again took to catching fish; but no matter how often he cast his net into the sea, he never could catch the goldfish again.
THE GOLDEN-BRISTLED PIG, THE GOLDEN-FEATHERED DUCK, AND THE GOLDEN-MANED MARE
ONCE UPON A TIME there was an old man who lived with his old wife and three sons; two of the boys were clever, but the third was a simpleton. The time came for the old man to die. Before his death the father said: “My beloved children! For three nights you must go and sit on my grave.” They cast lots among themselves and the simpleton drew the lot for the first turn. At midnight as he sat on the grave his father came out and asked: “Who is sitting?” “I, father, the simpleton.” “Sit on, my child; God be with you!” On the second night it was the eldest brother’s turn to go to the grave. He said to the simpleton: “Please, simpleton, sit this night for me; take whatever you want in return.” “No, you go! Ghosts come out there.” “Go in my stead, I will buy you red boots.” The simpleton could not persuade his brother to do his duty, so he went to sit out the second night. As he sat there, the ground suddenly opened and his father came out and asked: “Who is sitting?” “I, father, the simpleton.” “Sit, my child; God be with you!”
On the third night it was the middle brother’s turn to go, and he besought the simpleton: “Do me a favor, sit for me; take whatever you want in return.” “No, no, you go! The first night was terrifying, and the second even more so. The ghosts yell and quarrel; I shook as if with fever!” “Please, go, I will buy you a red cap.” There was no way out of it, so the simpleton went to sit out the third night. He was sitting on the grave, when suddenly the ground opened and his father came out and asked: “Who is sitting?” “I, the simpleton.” “Sit, my child; God be with you! Take this great blessing from me.” And he gave his son three horsehairs. The simpleton went into the forbidden meadows, singed the three hairs, and cried in a sonorous voice: “Magic steed, horse of my need, blessing of my father! Stand before me as a leaf before grass!” And the magic steed ran out; from its mouth flames streamed, from its ears poured pillars of smoke. The horse stood before him as a leaf before grass. The simpleton crept into the steed’s left ear and ate and drank his fill; he crept into the right ear, donned a many-colored garment, and became such a hero as no mind can imagine nor pen describe.
On the next morning the king sent forth a call: “He who will kiss my daughter, Princess Beautiful, as he gallops on his horse, while she is sitting in the third story, to him I will give her in marriage.” The two elder brothers made ready to watch the spectacle and invited the simpleton to join them. “Come with us, simpleton!” they said. “No, I don’t want to; I will go to the field, take a basket, and kill jackdaws—that too is feed for dogs!” He went into the open field, singed his three horsehairs, and cried: “Magic steed, horse of my need, blessing of my father! Stand before me, as a leaf before grass!” And the magic steed ran out; from his mouth flames streamed, from his ears rose pillars of smoke. The horse stood before him as a leaf before grass. The simpleton crept into the steed’s left ear and ate and drank his fill; he crept into the right ear, donned a colored garment, and became a hero such as no mind can imagine nor pen describe. He mounted the horse, waved his hand, pushed his feet down into the stirrups, and darted off. The horse galloped and the earth shook; with his tail the great beast swept hills and vales, while tree trunks and logs rolled away between his legs. The simpleton leaped his steed higher than one story, but not as high as two, and turned back.
The brothers came home and found the simpleton lying on top of the stove. They said: “Eh, you simpleton! Why didn’t you come with us? There was a hero there such as no mind can conceive of nor pen describe!” “Wasn’t that I, the simpleton?” “Where would you get such a horse? Wipe your nose before you speak!” The next day the older brothers made ready to go to the spectacle and invited the simpleton. “Come with us, simpleton,” they said. “Yesterday a great hero came, today an even greater one will come!” “No, I don’t want to; I will go to the field, take a basket, kill jackdaws, and bring them home—that too is feed for dogs!” He went to the open field, singed the horse hairs, and called: “Magic steed, horse of my need! Stand before me as a leaf before gras
s!” The magic steed ran out; from his mouth flames streamed, from his ears poured pillars of smoke. The horse stood before him as a leaf before grass. The simpleton crept into the horse’s left ear and ate and drank his fill; he crept into the right ear, donned a colored garment, and became a hero such as no mind can imagine nor pen describe. He mounted the horse, waved his hand, pushed his feet down into the stirrups, jumped higher than two stories but not as far as the third. He turned back, set his horse loose in the forbidden green meadows, and went home and lay on the stove.
His brothers came back. “Ah, simpleton, why did you not go with us?” they cried. “Yesterday a great hero came, and today an even greater one—and where was that magnificent horse born?” “Wasn’t that I, the simpleton?” “Eh, a simpleton says foolish things! Where would you get such a beauty, where would you find such a horse? Better stay on your stove.” “Well, so be it. You’ll see tomorrow.” On the third morning the clever brothers made ready to watch the spectacle at the palace. “Come with us, simpleton,” they said. “Today he’ll kiss her!” “No, I don’t want to; I will go to the field, take a basket, kill jackdaws, and bring them home—that too is feed for dogs!” He went into the open field, singed the horsehairs, and cried in a loud voice: “Magic steed, horse of my need! Stand before me, as a leaf before grass!” The magic steed ran out; from his mouth flames streamed, from his ears rose pillars of smoke. The horse stood before him as a leaf before grass. The simpleton crept into the steed’s left ear and ate and drank his fill; he crept into the right ear, donned a colored garment, and became such a hero as no mind can conceive of nor pen describe. He mounted his horse, waved his hand, pushed his feet into the stirrups, jumped up to the third story, and kissed the king’s daughter on her mouth. She struck his forehead with her golden ring.
Russian Fairy Tales (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library) Page 51
