Russian Fairy Tales (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library)

by Afanas'Ev, Aleksandr

  Little Semyon went home and asked his father’s permission to go into the king’s service. “Why should you go?” answered the poor man. “You are still young and foolish.” “No, father, let me go; it is God’s will.” The poor man gave permission, and little Semyon made his bundle, said farewell to his father and brothers, and set out on his way.

  After some time, a long time or a short time, he came to the king’s court, went straight to the king himself, and said: “Your Majesty, do not punish me, let me speak.” “Speak, little Semyon.” “Your Majesty, take me into your service.” “Impossible! You are small and foolish; how could you serve?” “Although I am small and stupid, I will serve no worse than the others; God will help me.” The king consented, took him as a soldier, and ordered him to stay near his person. Some time passed, and suddenly a certain king declared a terrible war against our king. He began to prepare himself to take the field; at the appointed hour his whole army assembled. Little Semyon asked permission to go to war; the king could not refuse him, so took him with him and set out to the field of battle.

  For a long, long time the king marched with his troops. He left many, many lands behind him, and soon was close to the enemy—in about three days he would have to give battle. At that moment the king realized that he had neither his battle mace nor his sharp sword with him. He had forgotten them in his palace; he had nothing to defend himself with, to defeat the enemy forces with. He issued a call to all his troops: would someone undertake to go to the palace in a hurry and bring him his battle mace and sharp sword? To him who would do this service he promised his daughter, Princess Maria, in marriage, half his kingdom as a dowry, and the other half after his death. Volunteers presented themselves; some said that they could do the errand in three years; others, in two years; still others, in one year. But little Semyon said to the sovereign: “Your Majesty, I can go to the palace and bring the battle mace and the sharp sword in three days.” The king was delighted, took him by the hand, kissed him on the mouth, and at once wrote a letter to Princess Maria telling her to trust this messenger and to give him the sword and the mace. Little Semyon took the letter from the king and set out on his way.

  Having traveled about one verst, he turned into a fleet-footed stag and darted off like an arrow from a bow. He ran and ran until he got tired and turned from a stag into a hare; then he raced ahead at a hare’s pace. He ran and ran until all his legs were weary and then turned from a hare into a little bird with a golden head; he flew even faster, flew and flew, and in a day and a half reached the kingdom where Princess Maria was. He turned back into a human, entered the palace, and gave the princess the letter. Princess Maria took it, unsealed it, read it, and said: “But how could you run across so many lands so speedily?” “This is how!” answered the messenger; he turned into a fleet-footed stag, ran once or twice across the princess’ chamber, approached the princess, and put his head on her knees. She took her scissors and cut a tuft of fur from his head. The stag turned into a hare, the hare capered a little in the chamber and jumped on the princess’ knees. She cut a tuft of fur from him then too. The hare turned into a little bird with a golden head, the bird flew about the room a little and perched on the princess’ hand. Princess Maria cut a golden feather from his head, and wrapped all these—the stag’s fur, the hare’s fur, and the golden feather—into a handkerchief and hid them on her person. The bird with the golden head then turned back into a messenger.

  The princess gave him meat and drink, helped him to get ready for his journey, and gave him the battle mace and the sharp sword; then they said good-by to each other, kissed heartily in farewell, and little Semyon went back to the king. Again he ran as a fleet-footed stag, bounded as a slant-eyed hare, flew as a little bird, and by the end of the third day saw the king’s camp near by. At about three hundred paces from the army he lay down on the beach near a bayberry bush, to rest from his journey; he put the battle mace and the sharp sword by his side. From great weariness he fell asleep soon, and soundly. Just then a general happened to pass by the bayberry bush, saw the messenger, straightway pushed him into the sea, took the battle mace and the sharp sword, brought them to the king, and said: “Your Majesty, here are your battle mace and sharp sword, I fetched them myself—and that braggart, little Semyon, will surely take three years!” The king thanked the general, began to fight with the enemy, and in a short time won a brilliant victory over him.

  As for little Semyon, we have seen that he fell into the sea. That very moment the Sea King seized him and carried him to the deepest depth. He lived with this king for a whole year, grew bored and sad, and wept bitterly. The Sea King came to him and said: “Well, little Semyon, are you bored here?” “I am bored, Your Majesty!” “Would you fain go to the Russian world?” “I would, if such is your royal favor.” The Sea King carried him out exactly at midnight, left him on the shore, and himself returned to the sea. Little Semyon prayed to God: “Lord, give me some sun!” Just before the rising of the red sun the Sea King came, again snatched him and carried him to the depths of the sea.

  Little Semyon lived there for another whole year. He became bored, and wept very bitterly. The Sea King asked him: “What is the matter, are you bored?” “I am bored,” said little Semyon. “Would you fain go to the Russian world?” “I would, Your Majesty.” The Sea King took him out to the shore at midnight, and himself returned to the sea. Little Semyon prayed to God with tears in his eyes: “My Lord, give me some sun!” Day had just begun to break when the Sea King came and snatched him and carried him once more to the depths of the sea. Little Semyon lived in the sea for a third year, became bored, and wept bitterly, inconsolably. “What is the matter, Semyon, are you bored?” the Sea King asked him. “Would you fain go to the Russian world?” “I would, Your Majesty.” The Sea King cast him out on the shore, and himself returned to the sea. Semyon, the little youth, prayed to God with tears in his eyes: “My Lord, give me some sun!” Suddenly the sun shone with his bright rays, and now the Sea King no longer could take him into captivity.

  Little Semyon set out for his kingdom. He turned first into a stag, then into a hare, and then into a little bird with a golden head. After a short time he found himself near the king’s palace. And while all this had been happening, the king had come back from the war and betrothed his daughter, Princess Maria, to the deceitful general. Little Semyon entered the chamber in which the bridegroom and the promised bride were sitting at table. Princess Maria saw him and said to the king: “Sovereign, my father! Do not punish me, let me speak.” “Speak, my dear daughter! What do you wish?” “Sovereign, my father! My bridegroom is not the one who is sitting at the table, but the one who has just come! Now show us, little Semyon, how at that time you ran speedily for the battle mace and the sharp sword.” Little Semyon turned into a fleet-footed stag, ran once or twice across the chamber, and stopped near the princess. Princess Maria took from her kerchief the bit of fur she had cut from the stag, showed the king the spot at which she had clipped it, and said: “Look, father! Here are my proofs.” The stag turned into a hare; the hare capered in the chamber and leapt to the princess’ knee. Princess Maria took the bit of hare’s fur from her kerchief. The hare turned into a little bird with a golden head; the bird flew a little in the chamber and perched on the princess’ hand. Princess Maria untied the third knot in her kerchief and showed the golden feather. Then the king learned the real truth, ordered the general to be put to death, married Princess Maria to little Semyon, and made him his heir.

  VASILISA THE PRIEST’S DAUGHTER

  IN A CERTAIN LAND, in a certain kingdom, there was a priest named Vasily who had a daughter named Vasilisa Vasilyevna. She wore man’s clothes, rode horseback, was a good shot with the rifle, and did everything in a quite un-maidenly way, so that only very few people knew that she was a girl; most people thought that she was a man and called her Vasily Vasilyevich, all the more so because Vasilisa Vasilyevna was very fond of vodka, and this, as is well known, is entirely un
becoming to a maiden. One day, King Barkhat (for that was the name of the king of that country) went to hunt game, and he met Vasilisa Vasilyevna. She was riding horseback in man’s clothes and was also hunting. When he saw her, King Barkhat asked his servants: “Who is that young man?” One servant answered him: “Your Majesty, that is not a man, but a girl; I know for a certainty that she is the daughter of the priest Vasily and that her name is Vasilisa Vasilyevna.”

  As soon as the king returned home he wrote a letter to the priest Vasily asking him to permit his son Vasily Vasilyevich to come to visit him and eat at the king’s table. Meanwhile he himself went to the little old back yard witch and began to question her as to how he could find out whether Vasily Vasilyevich was really a girl. The little old witch said to him: “On the right side of your chamber hang up an embroidery frame, and on the left side a gun; if she is really Vasilisa Vasilyevna, she will first notice the embroidery frame; if she is Vasily Vasilyevich, she will notice the gun.” King Barkhat followed the little old witch’s advice and ordered his servants to hang up an embroidery frame and a gun in his chamber.

  As soon as the king’s letter reached Father Vasily and he showed it to his daughter, she went to the stable, saddled a gray horse with a gray mane, and went straight to King Barkhat’s palace. The king received her; she politely said her prayers, made the sign of the cross as is prescribed, bowed low to all four sides, graciously greeted King Barkhat, and entered the palace with him. They sat together at table and began to drink heady drinks and eat rich viands. After dinner, Vasilisa Vasilyevna walked with King Barkhat through the palace chambers; as soon as she saw the embroidery frame she began to reproach King Barkhat: “What kind of junk do you have here, King Barkhat? In my father’s house there is no trace of such womanish fiddle-faddle, but in King Barkhat’s palace womanish fiddle-faddle hangs in the chambers!” Then she politely said farewell to King Barkhat and rode home. The king had not found out whether she was really a girl.

  And so two days later—no more—King Barkhat again sent a letter to the priest Vasily, asking him to send his son Vasily Vasilyevich to the palace. As soon as Vasilisa Vasilyevna heard about this, she went to the stable, saddled a gray horse with a gray mane, and rode straight to King Barkhat’s palace. The king received her. She graciously greeted him, politely said her prayers to God, made the sign of the cross as is prescribed, and bowed low to all four sides. King Barkhat had been advised by the little old back yard witch to order kasha cooked for supper and to have it stuffed with pearls. The little old witch had told him that if the youth was really Vasilisa Vasilyevna he would put the pearls in a pile, and if he was Vasily Vasilyevich he would throw them under the table.

  Supper time came. The king sat at table and placed Vasilisa Vasilyevna on his right hand, and they began to drink heady drinks and eat rich viands. Kasha was served after all the other dishes, and as soon as Vasilisa Vasilyevna took a spoonful of it and discovered a pearl, she flung it under the table together with the kasha and began to reproach King Barkhat. “What kind of trash do they put in your kasha?” she said. “In my father’s house there is no trace of such womanish fiddle-faddle, yet in King Barkhat’s house womanish fiddle-faddle is put in the food!” Then she politely said farewell to King Barkhat and rode home. Again the king had not found out whether she was really a girl, although he badly wanted to know.

  Two days later, upon the advice of the little old witch, King Barkhat ordered that his bath be heated; she had told him that if the youth really was Vasilisa Vasilyevna he would refuse to go to the bath with him. So the bath was heated.

  Again King Barkhat wrote a letter to the priest Vasily, telling him to send his son Vasily Vasilyevich to the palace for a visit. As soon as Vasilisa Vasilyevna heard about it, she went to the stable, saddled her gray horse with the gray mane, and galloped straight to King Barkhat’s palace. The king went out to receive her on the front porch. She greeted him civilly and entered the palace on a velvet rug; having come in, she politely said her prayers to God, made the sign of the cross as is prescribed, and bowed very low to all four sides. Then she sat at table with King Barkhat, and began to drink heady drinks and eat rich viands.

  After dinner the king said: “Would it not please you, Vasily Vasilyevich, to come with me to the bath?” “Certainly, Your Majesty,” Vasilisa Vasilyevna answered, “I have not had a bath for a long time and should like very much to steam myself.” So they went together to the bathhouse. While King Barkhat undressed in the anteroom, she took her bath and left. So the king did not catch her in the bath either. Having left the bathhouse, Vasilisa Vasilyevna wrote a note to the king and ordered the servants to hand it to him when he came out. And this note ran: “Ah, King Barkhat, raven that you are, you could not surprise the falcon in the garden! For I am not Vasily Vasilyevich, but Vasilisa Vasilyevna.” And so King Barkhat got nothing for all his trouble; for Vasilisa Vasilyevna was a clever girl, and very pretty too!

  THE WISE MAIDEN AND THE SEVEN ROBBERS

  ONCE UPON A TIME there was a peasant who had two sons. The younger one traveled, the elder stayed at home. Before the father died he bequeathed all that he had to his elder son, and left nothing to the younger one, thinking that a brother would surely not wrong a brother. The elder son buried his father and kept all of the inheritance. The second son returned and wept bitterly on finding his father dead. His brother said to him: “Our father left everything to me alone.” Yet this brother had no children, while the younger brother had a son of his own and an adopted daughter.

  And so the elder brother took all of the inheritance, grew rich, and began to trade in precious goods, while the younger brother was poor, chopped wood, and carted it to market. His neighbors, pitying his poverty, took up a collection for him and offered him money to enable him at least to set himself up as a retail merchant. The poor man was afraid and said to them: “No, my good neighbors, I won’t take your money; for should I suffer losses in trade, who will pay my debt to you?” Then two of his neighbors determined to give him money by a stratagem. One day when the poor man went to get wood, one of these neighbors contrived to meet him by taking a detour and said: “I had just left the house for a distant voyage, when someone who owed me three hundred rubles met me on the way and paid me. Now I don’t know where to put the money. I don’t want to return home, so please take it, keep it for me, or rather trade with it. I won’t be back for a long time; you can pay me later, little by little.”

  The poor man took the money, brought it home, and was afraid that he might lose it or that his wife might find it and spend it instead of his own money. He thought and thought, and finally hid it in a wooden tub full of ashes. While he was away, traders who bought ashes and paid for them in goods came to his house; his wife exchanged the tub of ashes for some goods. When the husband returned and saw that the tub was gone he asked his wife: “Where are the ashes?” His wife answered: “I sold them to the traders.” He was frightened and very unhappy, but kept silent nonetheless. His wife saw that he was sad; she began to press him to tell her what misfortune had befallen him and why he was so distressed. He confessed that some money that did not belong to him was hidden in the ashes. His wife grew angry, shouted, and wept. “Why didn’t you trust me?” she said. “I would have hidden the money in a better place!”

  Again the peasant went for wood to sell at the market so that he might buy bread. Another of his neighbors overtook him, told him the same thing as the first, and gave him five hundred rubles to keep for him. The poor man refused to take them, but the neighbor forced the money into his hands and rode away. The money was in bills; our poor man thought and thought about where to put it and finally stuck it under the lining of his cap. He came to the forest, hung his cap on a pine tree, and began to chop wood. As ill luck would have it, a raven snatched his cap with the money in it and flew away. The peasant was sad but resigned himself to his fate. He lived as before, traded in wood and other cheap things, and somehow struggled along. The neighbors waited f
or some time and then realized that the poor man’s lot had not improved. They asked him: “Are you unsuccessful in your trade, brother? Or are you afraid that you will lose our money? If so, better give it back to us.” The poor man wept and told them how he had lost the money. His neighbors did not believe him and brought the matter to court. “How shall I decide this case?” thought the judge. “This peasant is a peaceful man, but penniless; he has nothing that can be taken from him, and if I send him to prison his family will die of starvation!”

  The judge was sitting by the window sunk in meditation when he was distracted by some boys playing in the street. One of the boys, an alert little fellow, said: “I will be the burgomaster; you come to me with your cases and I will judge them.” He sat on a stone; another boy approached him, bowed to him, and said: “I loaned money to this peasant, and he has not paid me back; I have come to Your Honor to complain about him.” “Did you borrow money from him?” the burgomaster asked the defendant. “I did.” “Then why don’t you pay it back?” “I have nothing to pay it with, little father.” “Listen, plaintiff! Since the defendant does not deny having borrowed money from you, and since he cannot pay, extend the term of the debt for five or six years; by that time he may come into money and if so he will repay the debt with interest. Do you agree?” The two boys bowed to the burgomaster and said: “Thank you, little father, we agree.” The judge heard all this, was overjoyed, and said: “This boy has enlightened me! I will tell my plaintiffs to give the poor man an extension of time.” Upon his advice, the rich neighbors agreed to wait for two or three years, in the hope that by then the peasant would have bettered his lot.