Then Ilyá walked quickly through the new entrance, through the guard room and into the hall. There he crossed himself like a good Russian, and made his bow as he came into the hall. The steward of Vladímir the Prince he greeted, and asked him: “Where is the Prince Vladímir of royal Kiev?” “Prince Vladímir has gone to Mass,” was the answer. Ilyá sat down on the plain wooden bench to wait, and in a short time Prince Vladímir came in with his nobles and attendants from the Easter service. Then they all gave greetings one to the other, and each hero greeted the other, and Vladímir spoke to Ilyá and said: “All hail to thee, brave youth, I know not thy name or thy father’s name. Art thou a Tsar or a Tsar’s son? Art thou a king or a king’s son?” Ilyá answered and said: “I am from the town of Múrom. I am the old Cossack, Ilyá of Múrom.” And they all sat down at the table to eat bread, and they carved and ate white swans, and Ilyá began to talk and to boast of what he had done. “I am a brave hero, I have been riding through the eve of Easter Day. I would fain have been in time for the Easter Mass, but I could not get here in time for Easter morning, for the hour was past. I rode here by the straight road, and when I reached the green oaks, Nightingale the Robber was sitting upon the seven oaks. That ill-doer used to seize upon every one for seven miles round. When I came near the oaks Nightingale roared like a wild aurochs, and the villain whistled like a nightingale, and the robber-dog howled like a dog. Then my good horse fell upon his knees with fear, but I took out my tough bow, set the sharp arrow, and shot Nightingale the Robber. I shot the villain through the right eye, and the arrow came out by the left ear. Then Nightingale fell upon the damp earth, and I took the robber and fastened him to my Circassian stirrup and brought the villain with me.” Vladímir the Prince looked at Ilyá and said: “It seems to me, my bold youth, that there must be a big tavern in this country! Hast thou been drinking strong drink? Art thou not making empty boasts, good hero?” Ilyá’s wrath grew hot within him, and angrily he said: “Thou it is who art the fool, O Prince of royal Kiev! I have Nightingale the Robber here, tied to my Circassian stirrup.” Then all sprang up and rushed out, hurried and stumbled against each other as they ran out to see Nightingale the Robber. They all spoke and shouted together and called out to him: “O thou Nightingale the Robber! Roar, O Nightingale, like an aurochs! Thou evil doer, whistle like a nightingale! O thou robber-dog, howl like a dog!” Nightingale the Robber looked up and said: “With you I neither eat nor drink, and I will not obey you.” At once the crowd of courtiers turned back to the hall and came to Ilyá of Múrom, bowed low to him and craved their boon: