On the wedding day of Euphemia, his granddaughter, who had been betrothed to the heir of Byzantium, envoys from the Emperor came, but Sviatoslav took no part in the matter beyond appointing certain boyars to receive them. He grew weak, ceased speaking, and fell into a torpor. Recovering after a time, he commanded a monk’s habit to be brought, and sent for Rurik, who found him alive, but not in his senses. So far as is known, no word passed between them. Afterward, when Rurik had gone, the dying man regained consciousness and, turning to the princess, asked: “When will the day of the Maccabees be?” July was ending, and he remembered August 1, that day of death for his father and his grandfather. “Next Monday,” answered the princess. He looked into her eyes, as if to be sure that he saw her, and said: “I shall not live to the day of the Maccabees.” He died July 27, 1194. The next Prince of Kief was Rurik, son of Rostislav, but he had to get the consent of Big Nest, whom he and his brothers had long recognized as their senior, and esteemed as a father. Big Nest was not opposed to Rurik, for Rurik’s son, Rostislav, had married Verhuslava, his favorite daughter; hence he sent his boyars to confirm the new prince. Soon the relationship was strengthened by another bond: the Prince of Vladimir found a bride in Smolensk for his eldest son, Constantine, who married the daughter of Mystislav, son of Roman the Mild. Later on, this prince became Prince of Kief, and fell in the battle with Mongols on the Kalka. So Rurik and David grew nearer to the Prince of Vladimir. Since the older line of Monomach, descended from Mystislav the Great, and the younger line, descended from Yuri Dolgoruki, were so united, all the descendants of Monomach were now in accord and friendship. The great man of Volynia, Roman, had married Rurik’s daughter. The other Volynia princes, heirs of Yaroslav of Lutsk, were insignificant in those days. Roman, who had not shown great respect for Rurik at any time, ceased to care for him after he reached Kief dominion. To Roman’s thinking, the oldest throne in Russia should be held by the strongest of its princes, a man who could govern wisely, defend the Russian land in all places, and preserve order so that no prince could offend another, none attack and ravage a neighboring province. “But,” said he, “we see the very opposite. The throne of Kief is seized by senseless rulers, who not only are unable to manage others and stop strife among relatives, but are unable to defend their own borders; hence they bring in pagan Polovtsi, and ruin the country. For this, Big Nest is to blame.” Such was Roman’s opinion of his father-in-law.