by Unknown
‘Finist, Finist my Bright Falcon, why have you left me alone? Why have you left me to weep bitter tears for you? It was my sisters who separated us, my sisters who shed your blood.’
Just then the mistress’s daughter came into the servants’ hut. She stood at a distance, watching and listening.
‘Who are you weeping for?’ she asked. ‘And what is that trinket you’re playing with?’
Maryushka replied, ‘I’m weeping for Finist the Bright Falcon. And I’m spinning a thread. I shall embroider a towel for Finist, so he can wash his bright face in the morning.’
‘Oh!’ said the mistress’s daughter. ‘Why don’t you sell me your trinket? Finist is my husband. I shall spin a thread for him myself.’
Maryushka looked at the mistress’s daughter. She stopped her golden spindle and said, ‘I don’t have any trinkets. What I have here in my hand is my work. And the silver distaff and the golden spindle are not for sale. A kind old grandmother gave them to me as a gift.’
This upset the mistress’s daughter. She didn’t want to let a golden spindle slip through her fingers.
‘If they aren’t for sale,’ she said, ‘then let’s do a swap. Give them to me as a gift – and I’ll give you a gift too.’
‘All right!’ said Maryushka. ‘Allow me to take one quick look, just out of the corner of my eye, at Finist the Bright Falcon.’
The mistress’s daughter thought for a moment, then agreed to this.
‘All right then. Give me your trinket.’
She took the silver distaff and the golden spindle. ‘Why shouldn’t the girl look at Finist for a few minutes?’ she said to herself. ‘He won’t come to any harm – I’ll give him a sleeping potion. And with this spindle my mother and I will soon be swimming in gold!’
Around nightfall Finist the Bright Falcon returned from the heavens. He turned into a handsome young man and sat down, together with his wife and his mother-in-law, to a family dinner.
The young mistress ordered someone to fetch Maryushka: she could wait on them at table. Like that, she could have a look at Finist, in keeping with their agreement. Maryushka appeared. She waited on the family all through the meal, served all their dishes and did not once take her eyes off Finist. But Finist did not respond; it was as if he were not there. He did not recognize Maryushka. She was worn out from the long path, and longing had changed her face.
The family finished their meal. Finist got to his feet and went to his chamber to lie down for the night.
Maryushka said to the young mistress, ‘There are a lot of flies about tonight. I’ll go into Finist’s chamber to keep them off him. Otherwise he won’t be able to sleep.’
‘Let her!’ said the old mistress.
Once again, the young mistress thought for a moment.
‘All right,’ she said, ‘but first let me go in myself.’
And she followed her husband into his chamber and added some sleeping drops to his glass of water. ‘Maybe,’ she was thinking, ‘this maid has another trinket she’ll be willing to swap.’
‘Go along now,’ she said to Maryushka. ‘Go and keep the flies off my husband.’
Maryushka went into Finist’s chamber and quite forgot about the flies. There was her beloved friend. He was fast asleep – and she could not wake him from his sleep. She looked and looked at him – but, no matter how long she looked, she still hadn’t looked her fill. She bent down over him. She was breathing the same air as him. She whispered, ‘Wake up, my Finist. Wake up, my Bright Falcon. Here I am – I’ve come to you. I’ve worn out three pairs of iron shoes, I’ve worn away three iron staffs and I’ve gnawed my way through three stone loaves!’
But Finist remained fast asleep. He did not open his eyes or say a word in answer.
Then the young mistress, Finist’s wife, came in.
‘Well,’ she asked. ‘Have you been keeping the flies off him?’
‘Yes, they’ve all flown out of the window.’
‘Well then, it’s time you went back to the servants’ hut for the night.’
The following evening, after she had done all her housework, Maryushka took out her silver dish and her golden egg. She rolled the golden egg around – and a new golden egg rolled off the dish. She rolled the egg around a second time – and another golden egg rolled off the dish.
The young mistress saw all this.
‘Oh!’ she said. ‘You’ve got another trinket, have you? Sell it to me. Or you can swap it for anything you like.’
‘I can’t sell you the silver dish and the golden egg,’ said Maryushka. ‘A kind old grandmother gave them to me as a gift. Now let me give them to you in turn. Here you are!’
The young mistress took the silver saucer and the golden egg. She was delighted.
‘Maryushka,’ she said, ‘maybe there’s something you’d like for yourself. You can ask for whatever you want.’
‘There’s very little I want. Just let me keep the flies off Finist again tonight, after you’ve put him to bed.’
‘All right,’ replied the young mistress. She was thinking, ‘My husband won’t come to any harm from being looked at by a strange girl. Anyway, I’ll give him a sleeping potion and he won’t even open his eyes. And who knows? Maybe this servant girl has brought some other little trinket with her!’
Around nightfall Finist the Bright Falcon came back again from the heavens. He turned into a handsome young man and sat down to dine with his family. The young mistress called Maryushka in to wait on them. Maryushka laid the table, served all the dishes – and didn’t once take her eyes off Finist. But Finist looked without seeing. His heart did not know her.
Once again the young mistress gave her husband a sleeping potion and put him to bed. Once again she sent Maryushka the maid to him, to keep off the flies.
Maryushka went in to Finist’s room. She began calling him and weeping over him. She thought he’d wake up any moment, take one look at her and know her for his Maryushka. She called and called. She wiped the tears from her own face so that they would not fall on Finist’s white face and wet it. But Finist went on sleeping. He did not wake up and open his eyes to her.
On the third evening, when she was done with her household tasks, Maryushka sat down on the bench in the servants’ hut and took out her golden needle and embroidery frame. She held the frame in her hands, and the needle sewed of itself.
As Maryushka sat and worked, she kept saying, ‘Show yourself, show yourself, my beautiful pattern. Embroider yourself for Finist the Bright Falcon. Fill him with wonder.’
The young mistress was waiting not far away. She went into the servants’ hut and saw Maryushka with her golden embroidery frame and her golden needle that sewed by itself. Her heart went wild with envy and greed, and she said, ‘Oh Maryushka, oh my darling Maryushka, give me this trinket of yours or take anything you like in exchange for it! I’ve got a golden spindle, I can spin thread and I can weave cloth, but I’ve got nothing to embroider it with. If you don’t want to swap it, then sell it to me! I’ll pay any price you ask!’
‘No,’ said Maryushka, ‘that’s impossible. I can’t sell you my golden needle and my golden embroidery frame, and I can’t swap them for anything either. The very kindest and oldest of the old grandmothers gave them to me as a gift. I can only give them to you.’
The young mistress took the golden needle and the golden embroidery frame, but she had nothing to give Maryushka in return. She said, ‘You can go along, if you like, and keep the flies off my husband. You used to ask to do that.’
‘All right,’ said Maryushka with a sigh. ‘I’ll go.’
After supper the young mistress decided not to give Finist a sleeping potion, but then she changed her mind and put one in his drink after all. ‘Why let him look at the girl?’ she thought. ‘He’ll be safer asleep.’
Maryushka went in to where Finist was sleeping. Now her heart could no longer bear it. She dropped down to the floor, her head against his white breast, and lamented:
/> ‘Wake up, wake up, my Finist, my Bright Falcon. I’ve walked across the whole earth to find you. Three iron staffs have worn themselves down beside me, the hard ground has ground them to nothing. My feet have worn out three pairs of iron shoes and I have gnawed my way through three stone loaves. Awake, my Finist, wake up, my Falcon! Take pity on me!’
But Finist was asleep. He sensed nothing. He did not hear Maryushka’s voice.
Maryushka wept over him for a long time. She tried and tried to wake him up, but she could do nothing – his wife’s sleeping potion was too strong. But then one of Maryushka’s hot tears fell on Finist’s chest, and a second fell on his face. The first tear burnt his heart; the second tear opened his eyes. He awoke at once.
‘What is it?’ he said. ‘What is it that’s burnt me?’
‘Finist, my Bright Falcon!’ answered Maryushka. ‘Awake to me – I’m here now! I’ve searched and searched for you. I’ve worn iron shoes and iron staffs to nothing. Iron couldn’t last out the journey. Only I could. And now I’ve been calling you for three nights, and all you’ve done is sleep. You haven’t awoken. You haven’t answered my voice.’
At last Finist the Bright Falcon knew his Maryushka, his fair maiden. At first he was so overjoyed that joy made him unable to speak. He just clasped Maryushka to his white breast and kissed her.
When he came to, when he took in that his Maryushka was with him again, he said, ‘Be my grey dove, my faithful love!’
There and then he turned into a falcon, and Maryushka into a dove.
They flew away into the heavens and flew side by side all through the night, until dawn.
While they were flying, Maryushka said, ‘Falcon, falcon, where are you flying to? Your wife will miss you!’
Finist the Falcon heard what she said and answered, ‘It’s to you I’m flying, my fair maiden. And as for a wife who sells her husband for a spindle, a saucer and a needle – she doesn’t need a husband and she won’t miss him.’
‘What made you marry a wife like that?’ asked Maryushka. ‘Was it against your will?’
‘No, but it was against my fate, and without my love.’2
And they flew on further, side by side.
At dawn they dropped down to earth. Maryushka looked around – there was her father’s house, just as it had always been. She wanted to see her father, and there and then she turned into a fair maiden. And Finist the Bright Falcon struck against the damp earth and became a little feather.
Maryushka took the feather, hid it in her bosom and went to her father.
‘Greetings, daughter! My youngest, my beloved! I thought you were gone from the world. Thank you for coming home, for not forgetting your father. But where have you been all this time? Why didn’t you hurry back sooner?’
‘Forgive me, Father. I did only what I had need to do.’
‘Well, needs must. I’m glad the need has passed.’
That day was a holiday. A big fair had opened in town. Her father was about to set out on his way there. And her two sisters were going with him to buy themselves presents.
Her father asked his little Maryushka to come too.
‘I’m worn out from the road, Father,’ she replied. ‘Anyway, I’ve nothing to wear. Everyone at the fair will be dressed in fine clothes.’
‘Maryushka, I’ll buy some fine clothes for you,’ said her father. ‘At the fair there’ll be plenty to choose from.’
‘We can lend you some of our own,’ said the elder sisters. ‘We’ve got more than we need.’
‘Oh thank you, sisters!’ Maryushka replied. ‘But your clothes won’t suit me – your bones aren’t my bones. Anyway, I’d rather stay here at home.’
‘All right, do as you please,’ said her father. ‘But what shall I bring you back from the fair? Tell me. Don’t treat your father unkindly.’
‘Dear Father, there isn’t anything I want. I’ve got everything already. It’s not for nothing I wandered so far and wore myself out on the road.’
The father rode off to the fair with his two elder daughters. Straight away Maryushka took out her little feather. It struck against the floor and turned into a handsome young man – Finist, only he was now more handsome than ever. Maryushka gazed at him in wonder but was so happy she couldn’t think what to say.
‘Don’t look so full of wonder, Maryushka. It’s your love that’s made me like this.’
‘I may be wondering at you,’ said Maryushka, ‘but really you remain always the same to me. I love you however you seem.’
‘Where’s your dear father?’
‘He’s gone to the fair. So have my elder sisters.’
‘Why haven’t you gone with them, my Maryushka?’
‘I’ve got Finist, my Bright Falcon. What do I need from the fair?’
‘I don’t need anything either,’ said Finist. ‘Your love has made me rich.’
Finist turned around and whistled out of the window. At once there appeared fine clothes and adornments, and a golden carriage. They dressed, sat down in the carriage, and the horses were off like lightning.
They reached the fair just as it opened. There were mountains of all kinds of costly goods and foods, and the buyers were still on their way.
Finist bought everything there was in the fair, all the foods and all the goods. He ordered everything to be taken by cart to the village where Maryushka’s father lived. The only thing he did not buy was the cartwheel grease. He left that on the stalls.
He wanted all the peasants who came to the fair to be guests at his wedding and to get to it as quickly as possible. For that, they’d need to grease the wheels of their carts.
Finist and Maryushka set off back home. They went fast. The horses could hardly breathe for the wind.
Halfway back Maryushka saw her father and her elder sisters. They were still on their way to the fair. Maryushka told them to turn round and go home, to her wedding with Finist the Bright Falcon.
In three days everyone who lived within fifty miles had arrived. Finist and Maryushka were married. It was a splendid wedding.
Our grandfathers and grandmothers all went to this wedding. They feasted a long time and drank toasts to the bride and groom. They would have stayed till winter, but the time came to bring in the harvest. The wheat was already starting to shed its grain. And so the wedding ended and the guests all left.
The wedding came to an end. In time even the wedding feast was forgotten, but Maryushka’s true and loving heart is remembered forever throughout all Russia.
Ivan the Giftless and Yelena the Wise
In a certain village there once lived a peasant woman, a widow. She lived long, bringing up her son Ivan.
And then the time came – Ivan had become a man. His mother was glad he was fully grown now, but she did wish he hadn’t grown up so very hapless. No matter how he tried, her son could do nothing right. All he did went askew; nothing went true.
He would go out to plough. His mother would say to him, ‘Plough a bit deeper this time, son. The soil on top’s been worn out.’ Ivan ploughed as deep as he could, cutting right down into the clay and turning it up on top. Then he sowed the grain – and nothing came of it, the seeds were all wasted.
It was the same with everything else. Ivan always did his best, but he had little wit and nothing that could be called luck. But his mother was already old and she no longer had the strength to work. How were they to live? And they were very poor; they owned nothing at all.
One day they ate their last crust of bread. The mother thought and thought: how was her hapless son going to live? She had to get someone to marry him. A wise wife can turn even the daftest, most luckless of husbands into a deft worker who can earn his keep. But then who would want to marry her son? Not even a widow, let alone a fair maiden, would want her hapless son for a husband.
While his mother grieved, Ivan just sat on the earth wall outside, without a care in the world.
Suddenly he looked up and saw a little old man, a frail old man
covered in moss. Earth had eaten into his face; it had been driven there by the wind.
‘Give us a bite to eat, my son,’ said the little old man. ‘I’ve grown thin from the road and I’ve eaten the last crumb in my pouch.’
‘Grandad, we haven’t a morsel left in the hut,’ said Ivan. ‘We didn’t know you were coming or I’d have saved our last crust for you. I wouldn’t have eaten it yesterday. But come along in. At least I can give you a good scrub and wash your shirt for you.’
Ivan heated up the bathhouse, scraped all the dirt off the old man, beat him with a besom so he’d work up a good sweat, washed his shirt and trousers and laid out a bed for him in their hut.
The old man slept well. When he woke in the morning, he said, ‘I’ll remember your kindness, the good turn you’ve done me. If ever you’re in trouble, just go into the forest. When you come to where the path forks, you’ll see a grey stone. Give the stone a push with your shoulder and call out, “Grandad!” I’ll come straight away.’
With that the old man went off. As for Ivan and his mother, life got still worse for them. They had eaten every last crumb, every last scrap from their larder.
‘You just wait here for me, Mother,’ said Ivan. ‘I won’t be gone long. Maybe I’ll be able to bring you some bread.’
‘A likely story!’ answered his mother. ‘Where’s a man with your luck going to get bread? Get something to eat for yourself if you can, but don’t worry about me. I’ll be dying hungry – no doubt about it. Now if only you could find yourself a good wife. Marry a wife with a head on her shoulders – you see – and you need never go hungry again!’
Ivan sighed and went off into the forest. He came to where the path forked and pushed the stone with his shoulder. The stone yielded a little – and there before Ivan appeared the old man.
‘What do you want?’ said the old man. ‘Or have you just come to visit?’
The old man took Ivan into the forest. After a while they came to some fine huts. The old man went straight inside one of them, taking Ivan with him; evidently he was the master there.1
The old man called his cook and the boy who worked with her in the kitchen and said they’d like to start with some roast sheep. He served his guest himself. Ivan ate all he was given and asked for more: ‘Tell them to roast another sheep and to bring me a loaf of bread.’
