By the will of God, Ígor was wounded, and his left arm was disabled, and there was a great sorrow in his troop; and they captured his general, having wounded him in front. And they fought that day until evening, and many were the wounded and killed in the Russian army. They fought till late into the night, and when the Sunday began to break, the Kovúans became confused and ran away. Ígor was at that time on horseback, for he was wounded, and he followed them up, trying to bring them back to the army. Seeing that he had gone far away from his people, he took off his helmet so that they might recognise him and might return to the army, and he rode back to his troop. But no one returned, except Mikhálko Gyúrgevich who had recognised the Prince. The trouble was, no one, except a few of the rank and file and boyárs’ youths, had thoroughly mingled with the Kovúans, for they were all busy fighting on foot; among these, Vsévolod excelled in bravery. As Ígor was approaching his troop, the Pólovtses crossed his path and made him prisoner within an arrow’s shot from his troop. While Ígor was held captive, he saw his brother fighting mightily, and in his heart he implored for his own death that he might not see his brother fall dead; but Vsévolod was fighting until he had no weapons left in his hands, and they were fighting around a lake. It was on the day of the holy Sunday that the Lord brought down His anger upon them, and changed joy into weeping, and instead of pleasure gave them sorrow, on the river Kayála. And Ígor spoke: “I now recall my sins before the Lord my God, for I have caused much slaughter and bloodshed in the Christian land, and did not spare the Christians, but took by storm the town of Glyébov near Pereyáslavl. Then innocent Christians suffered no small measure of evil, for fathers were separated from their children, brother from brother, friend from friend, wives from husbands, and daughters from their mothers, and all was confused in captivity and sorrow. The living envied the dead, and the dying rejoiced because they had like holy martyrs received their trial by fire in this life; old men were killed, young men received fierce and inhuman wounds, men were cut to pieces. All this I have done, and I am not worthy to live; to-day the revenge of the Lord has reached me. Where is now my beloved brother? Where is now the son of my brother? Where is the child of my loins? Where are the counselling boyárs, where are the brave men, the ranks of the soldiers? Where are the horses and costly weapons? Am I not separated from all that, and has not the Lord given me fettered into the hands of the pagans? The Lord has repaid me for my lawlessness and my meanness, and my sins have this day come down upon my head. The Lord is just, and His judgments are right, and I have nothing in common with the living. I see to-day others receiving the crown of martyrdom, but why can I not, guilty