The Russian story book : $b containing tales from the song-cycles of Kiev and Novgorod and other early sourcesWilson, Richard
General
The Russian story book : $b containing tales from the song-cycles of Kiev and Novgorod and other early sources
Wilson, Richard
Mythology, Slavic -- Juvenile literature
"If we shall be able to take Vasily, we will ride his good steed,
wear his embroidered garments, and take, but not as a gift, all his
rich red gold, his white silver, and his fine seed pearls. We will
pardon him freely when we shall have cut off his turbulent head."
Then the widow mother went home in great grief and sadness, scattering
as she went upon the frozen snow the rich red gold, the white silver,
and the fine seed pearls, saying to herself as she went, "Not these
things are dear to me, but the turbulent head of my own dear son."
Now when she came once more to her own house she gave Vasily to drink
of the cup of forgetfulness, led him down into the deepest dungeon,
and locked him securely within. Then she went out into the stables
and set his wild shaggy charger free to wander over the wide steppe,
and taking his great cudgel of red elm, his sharp sword, and his coat
of mail, she hid them where she thought no one would ever be able to
find them.
Early the next morning Vasily's brave bodyguard took their stand at one
end of the bridge over the Volkof river, and the men of Novgorod came
against them in a great crowd. All that day they fought without pause
for refreshment, and for a second day and a night and yet a third day
without pause for taking breath. In the meantime Vasily slept and took
his ease, knowing nothing of the straits to which his brave bodyguard
was reduced. But as the black-browed maiden went to the stream for
fresh water, with her buckets fastened on a maple yoke, she saw the
fight by the bridge. Then she set down the buckets, and taking the
yoke from her white shoulders entered into the fray and cracked the
skulls of many more citizens than she could count. After that she
ran quickly home, and coming to the door of Vasily's dungeon cried out:
"Do you sleep, Vasily, and take your ease? Up there upon Volkof bridge
your brave bodyguard stand as prisoners of the men of Novgorod, their
feet in blood, their heads broken with whips, and their hands bound
with their own girdles."
"Open this pestilent door," roared Vasily, "and I will give you as much
treasure as you desire in return for the displeasure of your mistress."
The black-browed maiden needed no bribe to urge her to obey. With
one stout blow of her maple yoke she broke the heavy lock, whereupon
she set her white shoulder against the door, which creaked and then
gave way under her young strength. So Vasily came out once more
into the white world, and as he could not find his warlike gear he
wrenched the iron axle from a cart which stood in the empty stable,
threw it over his shoulder and said, "I thank you, maiden, that you
did not let my brave bodyguard perish. Hereafter I will repay you,
but now I must not tarry."
"Haste, oh haste," said the black-browed maid, "and give no thought
to reward for me. It is enough for me to be the handmaid of a man
who loves a fight against odds."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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