So they passed the time merrily and they sat down. The Tsar sat at table and Vasilísa Vasílyevna on his right. They ate sweetmeats and they drank strong wines. Then there came the pie, and as soon as even Vasilísa Vasílyevna’s spoon touched it, it tingled on the pearls; and she flung them and the pie under the table, and began to scold the Tsar. “Who,” she asked, “put these into the pie? Whatever nonsense have you here, Tsar Bárkhat? I never saw such girlish trash in my father’s house, and I have never heard of them, and yet you find them in Tsar Bárkhat’s food!” And she bade farewell courteously and rode home. Still the Tsar was utterly at a loss whether it were a maiden, and he had made up his mind to find out. So, two days later, the Tsar, at the advice of the old evil-minded housekeeper, had the bath heated, for the old woman said: “If it is only Vasilísa Vasílyevna she will not go into the bath together with the Tsar.” So the bath was heated, and Tsar Bárkhat sent Pope Vasíli another message that he would like to have his son Vasíli Vasílyevich as his guest; and when Vasilísa Vasílyevna heard of it she went into the stable and saddled the grey horse with the silver mane, and galloped away to Tsar Bárkhat’s courtyard. He received her at the state entrance. They greeted each other friendlily, and she trod on velvet pile into the palace. As she came in she prayed devoutly, crossed herself, as is seemly, and bowed to all four quarters, and sat together with the Tsar at table. They ate sweetmeats and drank strong wine. After the dinner the Tsar said: “Will you not come with me into the bath, Vasíli Vasílyevich?” “If you wish it, mighty Tsar,” Vasilísa Vasílyevna answered. “It is a long time since I have had a bath, and I should like a steam bath.” But before ever the Tsar had had time to undress in the front room, she was in the bath and out of it, so quick was she, and the Tsar was as puzzled as ever. In the meantime Vasilísa Vasílyevna had written a letter and bade the attendants give it to the Tsar as soon as he came out of the bath. And this was what she wrote: “O you crow, you Tsar Bárkhat! The crow has not caught the falcon in the garden. I am not Vasíli Vasílyevich, but Vasilísa Vasílyevna!” This was the way in which Tsar Bárkhat was hoodwinked; and you see how clever and beautiful Vasilísa Vasílyevna was. THE DREAM One day an old, old man was wandering about the earth, and he asked for a night’s shelter from the peasant. “Certainly,” said the peasant—“I shall be only too glad; only, will you go on telling me stories all night long?” “Yes, all right! I will tell you stories; only, let me rest here.” “Then, pray, come in!” So the old man entered the hut and lay down on the sleeping bench on the top of the stove. And the master said: “Make yourself ready, honoured guest. We shall have supper. Now, old man, tell me a story.” “Wait a bit; I had better tell you one in the morning.”