by Unknown
Vasilisa ran off as fast as her legs could carry her. The skull’s eyes lit up the path, and they didn’t go out until dawn. She walked all through the next day, and by evening she was nearly home. She was about to throw the skull into some bushes – after all, her sisters couldn’t be needing a light any longer, could they? – when she heard a muffled voice from inside the skull. ‘No, don’t throw me away. Take me to your stepmother.’
She looked up at the house. Not in a single window was there any light to be seen: maybe they did need the skull after all. For the very first time, her stepmother and stepsisters greeted Vasilisa kindly. They said they hadn’t had a light or a fire in the house since Vasilisa had left. None of them had been able to strike a light herself and, whenever they had tried to bring one back from a neighbour, it had gone out as they crossed the threshold. Vasilisa carried the skull in. The skull began to stare at the stepmother and the two stepsisters. Its eyes burned and burned. The three of them tried to hide, but the eyes followed them wherever they went. By morning they were burned to cinders. Vasilisa was left on her own.
Vasilisa buried the skull in the garden, locked up the house, went to the town and began to live with an old woman who had no family. She was hoping her father would come back soon. One day she said to the old woman, ‘Grandmother, it’s boring with nothing to do. Go and get me the best flax you can find. I want to do some spinning.’ The old woman bought some good flax. Vasilisa was quick-fingered, and the yarn she spun was fine and even. It was soon time to start weaving the yarn, but there were no spools fine enough for Vasilisa’s yarn. She couldn’t find anyone who could make one, so she asked her doll. The doll replied, ‘Just bring me any old reed, an old shuttle and a horse’s mane. I’ll make everything in no time at all.’
Vasilisa did as her doll said, went to sleep and found a splendid loom waiting for her the next morning.
By the end of the winter she had finished weaving her cloth, a cloth so fine you could draw it through the eye of a needle. When spring came, they bleached the cloth and Vasilisa said to the old woman, ‘Grandmother, take this cloth and sell it. Keep the money yourself.’ The old woman looked at the cloth and gasped. ‘No, my child. No one can wear cloth like this except the tsar. I’m going straight to his palace.’ The old woman went to the palace and began walking up and down outside the tsar’s window. The tsar saw her and called out, ‘What is it, grandmother? What do you want?’ ‘your Majesty, I’ve brought you some wonderful merchandise. But I don’t want to show it to anyone except you.’ The tsar had the old woman let in. She showed him her cloth. He gazed at it in amazement. ‘How much do you want for it?’ he asked. ‘I can’t put a price on it, your Highness. I’ve brought it to you as a gift.’ The tsar thanked her, had her given some presents and sent her back home.
He wanted to have some shirts made from this cloth. He had them cut out, but nowhere could anyone find a seamstress who was able to sew them. In the end he called the old woman and said, ‘It was you who span the yarn and made the cloth. You must be able to sew it into shirts for me.’ ‘No, your Majesty, I didn’t do the work myself. It’s the work of an orphan girl who lives with me.’ ‘Well then, ask her to sew the shirts.’ The old woman went back home and told Vasilisa what the tsar had said. Vasilisa smiled. ‘I knew all along,’ she said, ‘that I’d end up having to do this myself.’ She shut herself up in her room and began sewing. She didn’t stop till she’d made a dozen shirts.
The old woman took the shirts to the tsar. Vasilisa washed, did her hair, put on her best clothes and sat down by the window. Soon one of the tsar’s servants came by. He knocked on the door, entered and said, ‘The tsar wishes to see the seamstress who sewed his wonderful shirts. She must go to the palace to receive her reward from his royal hands.’ Vasilisa went to the palace. As soon as the tsar saw Vasilisa the Fair, he fell head over heels in love with her. ‘No, my beauty, I shall never part with you. You must be my wife.’ The tsar took Vasilisa by her fair hands and sat her down beside him. They were married then and there. Soon Vasilisa’s father came back and was overjoyed to hear of her good fortune. He and the old woman both came to live at the palace. As for the doll, Vasilisa carried her around in her pocket until the day she died.
Marya Morevna
In a certain land, in a certain tsardom, lived Ivan Tsarevich. He had three sisters: Marya Tsarevna, Olga Tsarevna and Anna Tsarevna. Their father and mother both died. On their deathbed they said to their son, ‘You must give your sisters to the first suitors who ask for their hands. Don’t keep them at home long.’ The tsarevich buried his parents. In his grief he went out to walk with his sisters in their green garden. Suddenly up in the sky appeared a black cloud. A terrible storm came up. ‘Quick, sisters! We must get back inside!’ said Ivan Tsarevich. The moment they were back in the palace, there was a clap of thunder, the ceiling split open and a bright falcon flew into the room. He struck against the floor, turned into a handsome young warrior and said, ‘Greetings, Ivan Tsarevich! I came before as a guest. Now I come as a suitor. I want the hand of your sister, Marya Tsarevna.’ ‘If my sister loves you,’ said Ivan Tsarevich, ‘I won’t stand in her way. May God be with her!’ Marya Tsarevna agreed. The falcon married her and carried her off to his tsardom.
Hours followed hours. Days followed days. A whole year went by as quick as if it had never been. Ivan Tsarevich and his two sisters went out for a walk in their green garden. A black cloud appeared. A whirlwind. Then lightning. ‘Quick, sisters! We must get back inside!’ said Ivan Tsarevich. The moment they were back in the palace, there was a clap of thunder, the roof fell apart, the ceiling split open and an eagle flew in. He struck against the floor, turned into a handsome young warrior and said, ‘Greetings, Ivan Tsarevich! I came before as a guest. Now I come as a suitor.’ And he asked for the hand of Olga Tsarevna. ‘If my sister loves you,’ said Ivan Tsarevich, ‘I won’t stand in her way. May God be with her!’ Olga Tsarevna agreed. The eagle married her and carried her off to his tsardom.
A second year went by. Ivan Tsarevich said to his youngest sister, ‘Come on. Let’s go for a walk in our green garden!’ They walked about for a while. A black cloud appeared. A whirlwind. Then lightning. ‘Quick, Anna! We must get back inside!’ They rushed back. Before they had time to sit down, there was a clap of thunder, the ceiling split open and in flew a raven. He struck against the floor and turned into a handsome young warrior. The first two had been handsome enough, but he was more handsome still. ‘Greetings, Ivan Tsarevich! I came before as a guest. Now I come as a suitor. Give me the hand of Anna Tsarevna.’ ‘My sister’s will is as she wills. If she loves you, my sister can marry you.’ Anna Tsarevna married the raven, and he carried her off to his tsardom.
Ivan Tsarevich lived on his own for a whole year and he began to feel bored and lonely. ‘I’ll go and look for my sisters,’ he decided. He made ready and set off. He rode and rode. One day he came to a field covered by a whole army of dead. He called out, ‘If there is one of you left alive, answer me! Who was it defeated this great army?’ The one man still alive replied, ‘We were defeated by Marya Morevna, the beautiful tsarevna.’ Ivan Tsarevich went on until he came to a camp of white tents. Marya Morevna walked out to meet him: ‘Good day, Ivan Tsarevich! Where is God taking you? Is it your will that you travel, or is your will not free?’ ‘A young warrior,’ replied Ivan Tsarevich, ‘journeys only as he wills.’ ‘Well then,’ said Marya Morevna, ‘if you’re in no hurry, be my guest for a while.’ Ivan Tsarevich gladly agreed. He stayed two nights, and Marya Morevna found him pleasing. They married.
Marya Morevna, the beautiful tsarevna, took him with her to her own land. They lived together for some time, but then the tsarevna took it into her head to go to war. She left everything in the hands of Ivan Tsarevich. All she said to him was, ‘Go wherever you like. Look at whatever you like. Only mind you never look into this storeroom.’ This was more than Ivan Tsarevich could bear. As soon as Marya Morevna was gone, he rushed straight into
the storeroom, opened the door and looked in. There hung Koshchey the Deathless. He was bound by twelve iron chains. ‘Have pity on me!’ Koshchey begged. ‘Give me something to drink. I’ve been in torment here for ten years. I’ve had no food and no water. My throat is parched.’ Ivan Tsarevich gave him a whole bucket of water. Koshchey drank it down and said, ‘My thirst needs more than one bucket. Bring me another.’ Ivan Tsarevich gave him a second bucket. Koshchey drank it down and asked for a third. As he swallowed the last drop, all his old strength came back to him. With one shake he snapped the twelve iron chains. ‘Thank you, Ivan Tsarevich!’ said Koshchey the Deathless. ‘But you won’t be seeing Marya Morevna again. No, you’re as likely to see her again as you are to see your own ears!’ He turned into a terrible whirlwind and flew out of the window. He overtook Marya Morevna, the beautiful tsarevna, snatched her up and carried her back to his home.
Ivan Tsarevich wept bitter tears. Then he made ready and set off on his way. ‘Come what may,’ he said to himself, ‘I shall find Marya Morevna.’ He walked for a day. He walked for a second day. On the dawn of the third day he saw a wonderful palace. Beside it stood an oak, and perched on the oak was a bright falcon. The falcon flew down from the tree, struck against the ground, turned into a handsome young warrior and called out, ‘Ah, my dear brother-in-law! How is God treating you?’ Marya Tsarevna ran out, threw her arms round Ivan Tsarevich, and asked him how was he keeping and how had he been living. Ivan stayed for three days as their guest and then said, ‘I cannot stay as your guest for long. I’m looking for my wife, Marya Morevna, the beautiful tsarevna.’ ‘She’ll be hard to find,’ said the falcon. ‘You must at least leave us a keepsake. Leave us your silver spoon.’ So Ivan Tsarevich left his silver spoon with the falcon and set off.
He walked for a day. He walked for a second day. On the dawn of the third day he saw a second palace. It was even finer than the first. Nearby stood an oak, and perched on the oak was an eagle. The eagle flew down from the tree, struck against the ground, turned into a handsome young warrior and called out, ‘Olga Tsarevna! Quick! It’s our dear brother!’ Olga Tsarevna ran out to meet him. She embraced him and kissed him. She asked him how was he keeping and how had he been living. Ivan stayed for three days as their guest and then said, ‘I cannot stay as your guest any longer. I’m looking for my wife, Marya Morevna, the beautiful tsarevna.’ ‘She’ll be hard to find,’ said the eagle. ‘You must at least leave us a keepsake. Leave us your silver fork.’ So Ivan Tsarevich left his silver fork with the eagle and set off.
He walked for a day. He walked for a second day. On the dawn of the third day he saw a palace that was still finer than either of the first two. Nearby stood an oak, and perched on the oak was a raven. The raven flew down from the tree, struck against the ground, turned into a handsome young warrior and called out, ‘Anna Tsarevna! Come out at once! Our brother’s come!’ Anna Tsarevna ran out to meet him. She greeted him joyfully. She embraced him and kissed him and asked him how was he keeping and how had he been living. Ivan stayed for three days as their guest and then said, ‘Goodbye. I’m going to look for my wife, Marya Morevna, the beautiful tsarevna.’ ‘She’ll be hard to find,’ said the raven. ‘You must at least leave us a keepsake. Leave us your silver snuffbox.’ So Ivan Tsarevich left his silver snuffbox with the raven and set off.
He walked for a day. He walked for a second day. On the third day he found Marya Morevna. The moment she saw him, she threw herself into his arms, burst into tears and said, ‘Ivan Tsarevich! Why, why didn’t you listen to me? Why did you look into the storeroom and let out Koshchey the Deathless?’ ‘Forgive me, Marya Morevna. But let’s not talk of the past. We must set off at once! Quick – otherwise Koshchey will catch up with us!’ They made ready and set off. As for Koshchey, he was out hunting. In the evening, as he made his way back, his fine steed stumbled beneath him. ‘Why are you stumbling, you old nag? Is something the matter at home?’ ‘Ivan Tsarevich has come and taken Marya Morevna away with him,’ answered the horse. ‘Can we catch up with them?’ ‘If you were to sow a field of wheat, wait for it to grow, reap it and thresh it, winnow it, grind it into flour, bake five ovenfuls of bread and not set out until you had eaten the last crumb of that bread – even then we could catch up with them!’ Koshchey galloped off. He caught up with Ivan Tsarevich. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘I’ll pardon you once for your kindness in giving me water. I’ll even pardon you a second time. But after that, take care – or I’ll cut you to pieces.’ He took Marya Morevna and carried her back. Ivan Tsarevich sat on a stone and began to weep.
He wept and wept. Then he went back again for Marya Morevna. Koshchey the Deathless was out. ‘Let’s go, Marya Morevna!’ ‘But Ivan Tsarevich, he’ll catch up with us!’ ‘Let him. At least we’ll have a little while together.’ In the evening, as Koshchey made his way back, his fine steed stumbled beneath him. ‘Why are you stumbling, you old nag? Is something the matter at home?’ ‘Ivan Tsarevich has come and taken Marya Morevna away with him.’ ‘Can we catch up with them?’ ‘If you were to sow a field of barley, wait for it to grow, reap it and thresh it, winnow it, make beer from it, get dead drunk on it, and not set out till you’ve slept it off – even then we could catch up with them!’ Koshchey galloped off. He caught up with Ivan Tsarevich. ‘I told you before. You’re as likely to see Marya Morevna again as you are to see your own ears!’ He took Marya Morevna and carried her back.
Ivan Tsarevich was left on his own again. He wept and wept. Once more he went back for Marya Morevna. Once more Koshchey was out hunting. ‘Let’s go, Marya Morevna!’ ‘But he’ll catch up with us, Ivan Tsarevich! And this time he’ll cut you to pieces!’ ‘Let him cut me to pieces. I can’t live without you.’ They made ready and set off. In the evening, as Koshchey made his way back, his fine steed stumbled beneath him. ‘Why are you stumbling, you old nag? Is something the matter at home?’ ‘Ivan Tsarevich has come and taken Marya Morevna away with him.’ Koshchey the Deathless galloped off, caught up with Ivan Tsarevich, hacked him into tiny pieces, stuffed the pieces into a barrel, sealed the barrel with pitch, bound it with iron hoops and threw it into the blue sea. And he took Marya Morevna back home with him.
Just then the pieces of silver Ivan Tsarevich had left with his three brothers-in-law all went black. ‘Oh!’ they all cried. ‘Something bad must have happened!’ The eagle flew straight to the blue sea, snatched up the barrel and carried it back to the shore. The falcon flew off to fetch the water of life. The raven flew off to fetch the water of death. The three birds met together, smashed open the barrel, took out the pieces of Ivan Tsarevich, gave them a good wash and put them in the right order. The raven sprinkled the pieces with the water of death, and they all joined together. The falcon sprinkled the body with the water of life – Ivan Tsarevich gasped, got to his feet and said, ‘Goodness me! I must have been sleeping for days!’ ‘You’d have slept even longer if it weren’t for us,’ answered the brothers. ‘Now you must come and stay with us for a while.’ ‘No, brothers, I must go and look for Marya Morevna.’
He found Marya Morevna and said, ‘Get Koshchey the Deathless to tell you where he found such a fine steed.’ Marya Morevna waited till the time was right and asked Koshchey. He replied, ‘Beyond thrice-nine lands, in the thrice-tenth tsardom, on the other side of a river of fire, lives a baba yaga. She has a mare on which she flies once round the world every day. And she has many other fine horses. I worked for her for three days as a herdsman. I didn’t lose a single mare, so she paid me with one of her foals.’ ‘But how did you cross the river of fire?’ ‘I have a handkerchief. I only have to wave it three times over my right shoulder and it becomes a high bridge – too high for any fire to reach.’ Marya Morevna remembered all he said and repeated it to Ivan Tsarevich. And she took the handkerchief and gave it to him too.
Ivan Tsarevich crossed the river of fire and set off to find the baba yaga. He walked a long way with nothing to eat and nothing to drink. Then he saw a strange bird from over th
e seas. With her was a family of chicks. ‘I’ll have one of those chicks to eat,’ he said. ‘No, Ivan Tsarevich! Don’t!’ said the bird from over the seas. ‘Don’t eat him. One day I’ll do you a service.’ He went on further. Deep in a forest he saw a hive of bees. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘I’ll help myself to a little honey.’ ‘No, Ivan Tsarevich!’ answered the queen bee. ‘Don’t touch my honey! One day I’ll do you a service.’ So he left the honey alone. Further on he saw a lioness with a cub. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘At least I can eat that little cub. Otherwise I’ll die of hunger.’ ‘No, Ivan Tsarevich!’ answered the lioness. ‘Don’t touch him. One day I’ll do you a service.’ ‘All right then. I’ll do as you say.’
He walked hungrily on. He walked and walked. After a long time he came to the baba yaga’s hut. Around it was a circle of twelve stakes. Eleven of them were topped with a human head; only one stake was empty. ‘Good day, grandmother.’ ‘Good day, Ivan Tsarevich. Why have you come? Is it of your own free will or from need?’ ‘I’ve come to work for you. I’ve come to earn a steed fit for a warrior.’ ‘As you wish, Ivan Tsarevich. You won’t have to work for a year, only for three days. If you look after my mares well, I’ll give you a steed fit for a warrior. But if you fail – don’t be angry. Your head will go on that last stake.’ Ivan Tsarevich agreed. The baba yaga gave him some food and drink and set him to work. Ivan let the mares out of the stable. They flicked up their tails and galloped far away over the meadows. Before he could even look round, they were out of sight. He wept and wept. Then he sat on a stone and fell asleep. The sun was already setting when the bird from over the seas awoke him: ‘Get up, Ivan Tsarevich. The mares have all gone back home now.’ Ivan Tsarevich got to his feet and walked back. The baba yaga was cursing and yelling at her mares: ‘Why did you all come back?’ ‘What else could we do? Flocks of birds flew down from every corner of the world. They nearly pecked out our eyes.’ ‘All right, don’t run about the meadows tomorrow. Scatter deep into the forest instead.’
