The Russian Story Book 16

The Russian Story Book 16

"Whom shall we send?" asked Prince Vladimir.

 

"Let Alyosha go," answered Churilo.

 

"Nay," said Diuk quickly, "Alyosha shall not go; for he hath greedy

eyes and pilfering fingers, and he will never, I assure you, come back

again to Kiev town." Then he sat down at the table of the banquet hall,

where the whole company was now gathered, and wrote a message upon

a parchment and fastened it to one of his flaming arrows. To this

he whispered a word of direction, and then, fitting it to his bow,

he shot it forth from the open window across the boundless plain. The

winged messenger found Ilya of Murom near the door of his pavilion

where he was resting with Nikitich, and as soon as he had read the

scroll the Old Cossáck said to his wise companion:

 

"Go thou to Diuk in Kiev town and tell him that, if Nikitich is not

an army in himself, then Ilya will come who is a host."

 

As soon as he saw Nikitich, Diuk's eyes shone with welcoming

pleasure. "Ah, Nikitich," he said, "you shall go as talesman with two

others to India the Glorious, to make lists of all my possessions in

treasure and goods and herds and flocks.

 

"Take parchment sufficient for three years and three days," the young

man went on, "and I promise you in prophecy that you will do homage

to my servant-maids, mistaking each of them in turn for my lady

mother." Then he laughed gently as one who wins a fight by putting

aside with naked arm the ponderous mace of his adversary.

 

The three talesmen set out at once, followed by three waggons heaped

with parchment; and after many wanderings and not a few adventures

Nikitich came to India the Glorious, on the verge of which they climbed

a lofty mountain, from whence they beheld the land lying before them.

 

"Why, the country burns!" cried Nikitich in fearful amazement. But

when they drew nearer they saw that it was only the glow of the golden

roofs and the temple domes, blended with the colour of the yellow

pathways spread with ruddy scarlet cloth. In the midst they saw the

white stone palace of Diuk, which had three-and-thirty towers, whose

rounded roofs were covered with green copper which is more precious

than fine gold. Round about the gleaming palace spread a lovely garden,

delicious in the coolness of its greenery, planted with all kinds

of fruit trees, and surrounded by a high railing of gold pillars,

set with knots of green copper and broken here and there with gates

of brass. About the pathways of this pleasure-ground and in the

verandahs of the palace walked the loveliest of maidens, attended by

resplendent gallants, who played upon their musical instruments and

sang gay songs of love and valour.

 

The talesmen were so much struck with wonder and amazement that it

was a long time before they could summon up their courage to enter the

palace garden, at whose gates no guards were set. At last they did so,

and came to the first of the three-and-thirty towers, where they found

an aged woman who looked as if she was the mother of a goodly son. Her

dress was of silver thread mixed with a little silk, and her bearing

had so much dignity that the visitors from Kiev found themselves

bowing down before her almost without knowing what they were doing.

 

"Hail to thee!" said Nikitich, "thou honourable mother of the young

Lord Diuk."

 

"I am not my lord's mother," said the ancient woman, "I am the keeper

of his cows."

 

Then the talesmen were so much filled with vexation and shame that they

left the palace garden and went out into the open plain, where they

pitched a tent and went to bed without saying a word to each other.

 

On the next morning they came again and drew near to the second of

the three-and-thirty towers, where they found an aged woman of comely

face clad in cloth of silver and gold.

 

"Hail to thee!" said Nikitich brightly, "thou honourable mother of

the young Lord Diuk."

 

"I am not my lord's mother," said the aged woman, "I am his

washerwoman."

 

Swallowing their confusion the three talesmen went on, wondering no

longer that Diuk had mistaken the Princess Apraxia for the washerwoman

of Prince Vladimir; and they fared in the same manner before the

cook, the women of the bedchamber, the baker of cakes, and the nurse,

until the last took pity upon their despair and told them that the

lady mother of their lord had gone to High Mass, and that they would

be able to distinguish her when she left the church by three certain

signs. Before her would come a great army of men armed with shovels,

and then another army with brooms to make all clean on the pathway,

and then a third army laying cloth of brilliant scarlet upon the

tawny sand. Last of all would come the mother of young Lord Diuk,

with a great company of lovely maidens round about her. "And when you

go into the town," the nurse concluded, "you must not salute all the

ancient ladies in fine raiment like mine, for there are so many of us

thus arrayed that we pay little heed to it. And if you do reverence

to all of us your back will remain bent like the bow of Ilya of Murom."

 

The talesmen went on their wondering way and in due time met the

mother of the young Lord Diuk, preceded and attended as the nurse

had told, and dressed in garments of rich but quiet beauty. Before

her the three men bowed, and in pleasant tones she asked why they

had come to the city.

 

"Your son sent us as talesmen," was the answer, "to make lists of

all his possessions in treasure and goods and herds and flocks."

 

"That is beyond your powers," said the lady; "but come first of all

to partake of my hospitality, and then I will show you whatever you

choose to see."

 

So they went to the feast of rich food and richer wine, and they ate of

the fine wheaten cakes baked by the mother of the young Lord Diuk, and

left no crumb behind. When they were well satisfied, the lady mother

showed them her son's horses; and they took parchment and tried to

count up their value in roubles, but the figures confused their eyes

and vexed them so that they gave up the task. Then she showed them the

shoes of her son; and they took parchment again and tried to tell the

tale of their value, but once more they gave up in despair. After that

she led them to the wine-cellars and to the treasury of trappings for

horses with the same result. At last Nikitich said: "Leave us here,

seated before this single saddle ornamented with all the jewels of

India, and let us compute the value of it alone." The lady graciously

gave her consent; and they stayed three years over their task of

computation, but at the end of that time they had not finished one

tenth of the work.

 

Then they sent a message to Vladimir which ran:

 

"Sell Kiev for parchment and Chernigof for ink, and then we shall

perhaps be able to make a beginning of computing the possessions of

the young Lord Diuk."

 

When Vladimir had read this message he set out with a great company

for India the Glorious, and Diuk went in his train; and when they

came to the palace of the lady mother, they found that not one-tenth

of its splendour had been told to them.

 

As they stood there, three men came before them whose forms were

withered up like shavings; and they looked long upon them and

very earnestly before they saw that these men were Nikitich and his

companions, who had shrunken from grief at the greatness of their task

and their inability to perform it. But the young Lord Diuk consoled

them and feasted the company right well before they set out, still

in quiet wonder, on their way back to Kiev town.

 

When they were gone the lady mother turned to her son and asked:

 

"Did I not speak truth? Was there aught in Kiev or in the train of

Vladimir to compare with India the Glorious?"

 

"Only one thing, lady mother," said Diuk, who had seen enough of

splendour, "a man and a hero, Ilya of Murom the Old Cossáck. And for

his renown I would barter all the wealth of India the Glorious."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE STORY OF KASYAN AND THE DREAM MAIDEN

 

 

Of all the mighty heroes of Holy Russia one of the mightiest was young

Kasyan, the leader of a band of forty. Brave he was, without equal,

who had fought against the accursed Tatars, and had won great renown in

battle against infidel hordes; but he had never taken the golden crowns

nor loved any lady except the Dream Maiden, whose image he kept ever

in his golden heart. For she had come to him in a vision; and whether

she were a lily for whiteness, a rose for redness, or a violet for

darkness he could not tell. He knew only that he would know her when

he met her among the warrior-maids or gentle hearth-dwellers of Holy

Russia, and that she would know him also. But in all his wanderings

and among all the fair maidens of palace and plain, he had seen no

living lady who could compare with the Dream Maiden; though many a

Princess and noble-woman of high descent had favoured him secretly

or openly, and had longed to be hailed as the beauty of his vision.

 

On the broad and open plain he assembled his band of forty, and they

came to a halt in a green meadow, dismounted from their nimble steeds,

and sat down in a ring to tell of adventure and to take counsel as to

the next journey to be made across the boundless steppe. They told

many tales of far journeys and bold deeds, and boasted of death as

if it were a pretty plaything. Then when silence fell upon them young

Kasyan spoke:

 

"Greatly have ye sinned against the Most High, ye mighty heroes of

Holy Russia; for though ye are bold and fearless, ye have made a

plaything of death and shed much blood without cause. Will you agree,

one and all, to follow out my plan? It would be better that each

of us should now go on a pilgrimage to the holy city of Jerusalem,

to pray in the Holy of Holies, to visit the grave of the Risen Lord,

and to bathe in Jordan river, for in this way only shall we win pardon

for our sins. But before we go, it will be well if we take a vow--the

keeping of which will prove our heroic strength--not to rob or steal,

not to look with love upon the face of any maiden, and not to stain

our hands with blood. And if any of our band shall break his vow then

shall his nimble feet be hewn off at the knee, and his white hands at

the elbow, his far-seeing eyes shall be darkened, and his tongue cut

out, and he shall be buried up to the breast in moist Mother Earth."

 

The heroes agreed at once to the word of Kasyan, and rising to their

feet loosed their good steeds and gave them their freedom. Then they

dressed themselves in pilgrims' dress of the hue of the scarlet poppy,

and slung over their shoulders the beggars' wallets of black velvet

embroidered in thread of red gold and set with fine seed pearls,

while on their heads they placed the pilgrims' caps. With curving

staves of walrus tusks in their hands, they set out upon their way,

travelling by day in the light of the glorious sun, and at night in

the radiance which came from the jewels set thickly in their shoes

of fine leather. So they passed onward from town to town and from city to city until they came to Kiev.