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
But Nightingale the Robber chuckled too soon, for Ilya said in a voice
that showed no doubtfulness, "If I should plant my lofty spear in the
bosom of moist Mother Earth, and if you were to heap up about it red
gold, white silver, and fine seed pearls until not even the sharp tip
of it could be seen, yet would I not set you free, Nightingale the
Robber, you pestilent thief and father of stealing. You shall come
with me forthwith to the glorious town of Kiev, and there you shall
receive such forgiveness as you deserve."
Then Ilya mounted Cloudfall once more, and the shaggy bay steed
began to prance while Nightingale the Robber began to dance; and thus
prancing and dancing they came to Kiev, the city of Prince Vladimir.
When they arrived the Prince was in the cathedral, and hearing this,
Ilya went at once to the sacred courtyard, where he fastened Cloudfall
to a golden ring in a tall carven pillar, and said to him, "Keep
watch and ward upon Nightingale the Robber, Cloudfall, my faithful
shaggy bay steed, and see that he escapes not from my stirrup of
damascened steel." Then to the Magic Bird he spoke, "Presume not,
Nightingale the Robber, to depart from the side of my good charger,
for there is no place in all the white world where you will be hidden
from my searching."
Then in fulfilment of his first vow Ilya went to the church for the
Easter mass; and when he saw Prince Vladimir among the worshippers, he
made obeisance to him, but not before he had devoutly crossed himself
and done reverence to North, South, East, and West. When the mass had
been celebrated, Prince Vladimir sent to summon the stranger hero to
his Easter feast; and obedient to the invitation which was really a
command, Ilya went to the royal palace, where the Prince asked him
to which horde and country he belonged, and who were his parents.
"Sire," said Ilya, "I am the honourable son of honourable parents
who reap their own meadow to feed their own beasts in their own farm,
surrounded by the pine forest of Murom. Now as I greeted my Risen Lord
at matins this morning, I vowed to come hither by the straight way,
and I came."
The speaker ceased, and the group of heroes, warriors, notabilities,
and fair ladies who stood near the Prince stared at him in unbelieving
astonishment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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