Part 8

Then the Czar asked the second Simeon—

“And you, my friend, what art will you learn?”

“Your majesty,” said he, “I do not wish to learn any business or trade, but when my brother has finished the column, I will stand on the top of it, look around into all the countries, and let you know what is passing in each of them.”

The Czar perceived that there was no need to teach this lad anything, since he was so clever already.

Then he said to the third Simeon—

“What business or what art will you learn?”

“Your majesty,” said he, “I do not wish to learn either handiwork or art, but if my eldest brother will make me an axe, I will build a ship in an instant.”

“Such a man do I want,” said the Czar. “You, too, have nothing to learn.”

“And you,” said the Czar to the fourth Simeon, “what handiwork or what art do you wish to learn?”

“Your majesty,” said he, “I do not wish to learn anything, but, when my brother has finished his ship, and it is attacked by the enemy, I will seize it by the prow, carry it to the underground kingdom, and, when the enemy is gone, I will put it again on the sea.”

The Czar was very much astonished, and said—

“You, too, have nothing to learn.”

Then he spoke to the fifth brother—

“And you, Simeon, what handiwork or what art will you learn?”

“I want to learn nothing, your majesty,” said he, “but if my eldest brother will make me a gun, I will shoot with it any bird that flies, however far off it be, so that I am able to see it.”

“You will be an excellent sportsman,” said the Czar.

Then he asked the sixth brother—

“Well, Simeon, what art do you wish to learn?”

“I wish to learn no art, your majesty,” said he, “but if my fifth brother shoots a bird, I will catch it before it comes to the ground and bring it to your majesty.”

“That is very clever,” said the Czar. “You will do instead of a dog in the field.”

Then the Czar asked the last brother—

“And you, Simeon, what handiwork or art will you learn?”

“I want to learn neither handiwork nor art, your majesty,” replied he, “for I already know a precious art.”

“What is it,” asked the Czar, “that is so good?”

“I am so skilful at stealing,” said he, “that no one can beat me at it.”

When the Czar heard that the lad was acquainted with such a wicked art, he was angry, and said to his nobles—

“My lords, let me have your advice as to how this thief, Simeon, should be punished. What death should he die?”

“Your majesty,” said they all, “why should he die? It is not unlikely, since he is such a clever thief, that he may prove useful in some case.”

“How so?” asked the Czar.

“Your majesty,” said they, “has during the last ten years sought the hand of the Czarina, the beautiful Helena, in vain, and lost many armies and much treasure. Now this thief, Simeon, may devise some means of stealing the Czarina for your Majesty.”

“You say well, my friends,” observed the Czar, and he went and said to the thief—

“Now, Simeon, can you wander over seven and twenty countries into the thirtieth and steal for me the beautiful princess, Helena? I love her very much, and if you procure her for me you shall be well rewarded.”

“We will see to it,” said he, “you have but to command.”

“I do not merely command,” said the Czar, “but I beg of you not to remain longer at my court, but to take what armies you wish to effect your purpose.”

“I do not want either your armies or your treasure,” said the thief. “Only send all of us together, for I can do nothing without the others.”

The Czar did not wish for all the brothers to go, but though he thought it hard, he was obliged to consent.

In the meantime the eldest brother had completed the iron column in the smithy in the court of the palace. The second brother climbed up to the top, and from there he saw the kingdom of the fair Helena’s father. He called out to the Czar Ados—

“Your majesty, beyond twenty-seven countries in the thirtieth there sits, at a window, the Czarina, the beautiful Helena. How fair she is! One can see every blue vein in her white skin.”

Then the Czar was more in love with her than ever, and cried out to the Simeons—

“My friends, set out as quickly as you can and return soon. I can live no longer without the beautiful Helena.”

The eldest Simeon smithied a gun for the third brother, and carried bread for the journey. The thief took with him a cat, and so they set out. Now the thief had so trained the cat that it ran after him everywhere, just like a dog, and when he stood still it stood by him, on its hind-legs, rubbing against him and purring. So they went on till they came to the shore of a sea over which they must pass. For a long time they walked about on the shore and looked for wood, in order to build a ship, and at last they came to a great oak. The third brother took his axe and cut away at the root. The oak was brought to the ground, and a ship was in a moment built from it, filled with all kinds of precious things. The brothers entered the ship and sailed away.

After some months they came to the place they sought, and cast anchor in the harbour. The next day the thief, taking his cat, went into the town, and, coming to the Czar’s palace, stood in front of the Princess Helena’s window. His cat at once stood up on its hind-legs and began to rub itself against him, and to purr. Now a cat had never before been seen in that kingdom, nor, indeed, had the people knowledge that there was any such animal.

The princess sat at the window, and, when she saw the cat, she sent out her servants and maids to ask Simeon if he would sell it, and if so, what he wanted for it. The servants came to Simeon, and asked him what kind of animal the cat was, and whether he would sell it.

“Tell her majesty, the beautiful Helena,” said the thief, “that the animal is called a cat. I cannot sell it, but, if her majesty pleases, I desire the honour of making her a present of it.”

The attendants took the message to the princess, who, when she heard it, was delighted, and coming out of her chamber she asked Simeon why he would not sell the cat.

“I cannot sell the cat, your majesty,” said he, “but, if you please, I will give it to you.”

The princess took the cat in her arms, and going back to her apartment, told Simeon to follow. When they were in the palace, she went to her father, the Czar Say, showed him the cat, and told him that a stranger had given it to her. The Czar was very much pleased with the strange animal, and ordered that the thief Simeon should be brought to him. When he came, the Czar wished to give him treasures in return for the cat, but, as Simeon refused all, the Czar said to him: “My friend, stay for a while in my palace. The cat will become more familiar to my daughter if you are here.”

Simeon, however, did not wish to stay, and said—

“It would give me the greatest pleasure, your majesty, to stay in your palace if I had not a ship in which I came to your country, and which I can leave in charge of no one. If, however, your majesty wishes it, I will come every day to the palace, and get the cat accustomed to your daughter.”

So the Czar ordered him to come. Simeon went every day to the beautiful Princess Helena, and one day he said to her—

“Gracious lady, I have come a long while to you, but I have noticed that you never go out. Would you not like to see my vessel? I could show you fine goods, gold-stuff, and diamonds, such as you have never seen.”

The princess went away to her father, and begged his permission for her to take a walk on the quay. The Czar gave it her, but told her to take her attendants and maids with her. So the princess went with Simeon. When they had come to the quay, Simeon invited the princess on board his vessel, and, calling his brothers to show her all the various goods, he said, after a time—

“Tell your servants and maids to leave the ship so that I can show you some costly things they must not see.”

So the princess bade them leave the vessel. When she was alone, the thief ordered his brothers to cut the cable, set all sail, and put out to sea. In the meanwhile he amused the princess, showing her the things, and giving presents to her. So they spent several hours examining the goods. At last the princess told him that it was time for her to go home, as the Czar would be expecting her. But when she went up out of the cabin, she saw that the vessel was already far out at sea, and that she was far away from the coast. Then she beat upon her breast, changed herself to a swan, and flew upwards; but the fifth Simeon, seizing his gun, shot at her, and the sixth caught her as she was falling into the water and brought her to the vessel. The princess became a young woman once more.

The attendants and maids, who had gone to the quay with the princess, and had seen the ship sail away with her, told the Czar of the trick Simeon had played them, and he ordered that all his fleet should go in pursuit. It had come near to Simeon’s vessel, when the fourth brother laid hold of the vessel by the prow and dragged it off to the underground kingdom. The sailors of the fleet saw the vessel vanish, and they thought that it had sunk with the beautiful princess; so, going back to the Czar Say, they told him of the ship’s disappearance.

The brothers came safely home, and led the fair Princess Helena to the Czar Ados, who gave the Simeons, in reward for their great service, their freedom and much gold, silver, and many precious stones. And he lived with the princess for many years, prosperous and happy.

SILA CZAROVITCH AND IVASCHKA.

THERE was once upon a time a Czar called Chotei, who had three sons. The first was called Aspe, the second Adam, and the third, the youngest, Sila. The elder brothers came to their father and asked him to let them go and travel in other countries, so that they might see the world and learn how things were. The Czar gave them his permission, and let them each have a vessel in which they might sail. Then the youngest brother came to the Czar and asked him to let him go with his brothers.

“My dear son,” said the Czar, “you are too young to bear the fatigues of a journey. Stop here then at home, and do not think of going abroad.”

Sila, however, wished very much to see the strange countries, and so wearied his father with his prayers, that at last he gave him his permission to go, and let him have a vessel also. As soon as the three brothers were on board their ships they set sail. When they came to the open sea, however, the eldest brother’s vessel went on first, the second brother’s next, and Sila’s came last.

As they sailed, the third day there came floating past them a coffin with iron bands. The two eldest brothers saw it, but did not pick it up. When Sila, however, saw it, he gave orders to his sailors to secure it, bring it on board, and bury it when they came to a suitable spot. On the following day a great storm came on, and Sila’s ship, being driven out of its proper course, drifted to the steep shores of an unknown land. When they arrived there, Sila ordered the sailors to carry the coffin on shore, and he followed it himself and saw it buried in the earth.

Sila then told the ship’s master to stop where the vessel was for three years, waiting for him. If he did not come back at the end of that time, he told the man he was to sail away. Then Sila took leave of his captain and his men, and went away following his eyes. For a long time he went on and met no one. On the third day, however, he heard a man running after him, clothed in white. When he saw that the man was coming up to him, he drew his sword, fearing that the stranger might intend to do him some hurt. But when the man came up to him, he fell down at his feet, and began to thank him for having rescued him. Sila, not understanding what he meant, asked him why he thanked him, and what good service he had done him. The unknown sprang to his feet, and said—

“Sila Czarovitch, how can I ever repay you? There I lay in my coffin, which you took on board and buried on the land, and so was I rescued from the sea.”

“How came you in the coffin?” asked Sila.

“I will tell you all,” said the man. “I was once a great magician, and my mother, fearing that I did a great deal of harm to folk by my magic, confined me in the coffin, and turned me out upon the sea. I have been floating for over a hundred years, and no one ever picked me up. You I have to thank for my deliverance, and in return for it I will aid you in any way I can. Tell me, do you not wish to marry? If you do, I know the beautiful Queen Truda, who would make you a worthy wife.”

Sila told him that if the queen were beautiful he would be content to marry her. Ivaschka, in the white grave-clothes, assured him that she was the most beautiful woman in all the world, and Sila, when he heard that, asked his companion to go with him to her country. So they went on together.

Now Queen Truda’s kingdom was surrounded by a fence with posts, and on every post, save one, was a man’s head. When Sila saw that he was alarmed, and asked Ivaschka what it meant.

“Those,” said Ivaschka, “are the heads of the warriors who came to ask the Queen Truda to marry them.”

Sila was afraid when he heard that, and wished himself back again in his own kingdom. He did not wish to go on and see the father of the queen, but Ivaschka told him he had nothing to fear if he went on boldly with him. So Sila and he went on together.

When they had entered the kingdom, Ivaschka said to him—

“Listen, Sila Czarovitch, I will live with you as your servant. When you come to the royal apartments, behave humbly to King Salom. He will ask you where you come from, what country you belong to, who your father is, what is your name, and on what errand you have come. Tell him all, and do not try to conceal anything. Tell him that you have come to ask for his daughter’s hand, and he will give her to you with the greatest joy.”

Sila went into the palace, and when King Salom saw him he came to meet him, took him by the white hands, led him into the white marble room, and said to him—

“Young man, who are you? From what kingdom do you come? Who is your father? What is your name? and why are you come?”

“I have come,” replied Sila, “from the kingdom of the Czar Chotei; I am known as Sila Czarovitch, and I have come here to ask for your daughter, the beautiful Queen Truda, for my wife.”

Then King Salom was very pleased when he heard that the son of so famous a Czar desired to wed his daughter, and he at once sent to her, to tell her to get ready for the wedding. When the day came, the king commanded all the princes and nobles to come to the palace. From there they went to the church, and Sila Czarovitch married the beautiful Queen Truda. The company went back to the palace, seated themselves at table, and ate and drank with great joy.

When evening was come Ivaschka came near to Sila, and said to him softly—

“Listen, Sila Czarovitch. When you retire with your wife, take care you do not say a word to her, or you are a dead man, and your head will find a place on the last post. She will do all she can to make you speak, but do not you say a word to her.”

Sila asked him why he gave him this warning.

“She is,” said Ivaschka, “acquainted with a spirit which flies through the air in the shape of a dragon with six heads. Your wife will lay her hand upon your breast. When she does so, spring up and beat her with a stick till she has no strength left in her. I will myself watch at the door of the room.”

The queen did, as Ivaschka foretold, do all she could to make Sila speak, but he would not utter a word. Then Truda put her hand on his breast, and pressed him, so that he could hardly breathe. Sila jumped up, seized a stick, which Ivaschka had put there for the occasion, and commenced to beat her as if he would kill her. Immediately there came on a terrible storm, and there flew into the room a six-headed dragon who commenced to attack Sila. Then Ivaschka came in with a sharp sword in his hand, and he and the dragon fought together for three hours, when Ivaschka managed to cut off two of the dragon’s heads, and the monster flew away. Ivaschka then told Sila he might go to sleep and fear nothing. So Sila laid him down and slept till morning.

King Salom was anxious respecting his son-in-law, and he sent early in the morning to ask if all was well with him. When he heard that it was, he was delighted, for he remembered the fate of the others who had come to marry his daughter. He summoned Sila to him, and they spent the whole day in merriment.

The next night Ivaschka warned Sila that he must not speak to his wife, and he himself took up his station outside the door of the room. Sila’s wife again tried to make him speak, and again put her hand upon his breast, and Sila leaped up and thrashed her. The dragon flew in and attacked him, but Ivaschka sprang in from the door with the sword in his hand, and after he and the dragon had fought for three hours Ivaschka cut off two more of its heads. Then the dragon flew off and Sila lay down to sleep. The king again sent for Sila to come to him, and they spent the day together very pleasantly.

The third night Ivaschka warned Sila as before, and Sila did as he was bid. Ivaschka again fought with the monster, and, cutting off the two last heads, he burnt them and the carcass, and scattered the ashes over the fields.

So Sila Czarovitch stayed with his father-in-law for a whole year, and then Ivaschka, coming to him one day, told him to ask the king to give him permission to return home. Sila went to King Salom and obtained his leave to go, and the king sent two divisions of his army with him as an escort. So Sila parted with his father-in-law, and set off with his wife for his own land.

When they were half-way home Ivaschka told Sila to stop and camp there. Sila did as he advised, and ordered his tent to be put up. On the next day Ivaschka took some pieces of stick and burnt them in front of the Czarovitch’s tent. Then he came to the tent, led Queen Truda outside, and unsheathing his sword he cut her in two. Sila was greatly terrified, and commenced to weep when he saw that.

“Do not weep,” said Ivaschka, “she will come to life again.”

As soon as the Queen was cut in two there came out of her all manner of evil spirits, and all of these Ivaschka threw into the fire. Then said he to Sila—

“Do you see the evil things which possessed your wife? They are all evil spirits which had entered her.”

When all the evil spirits were destroyed in the fire, he placed the two parts of Truda’s body together, sprinkled them with water from a running brook, and the queen became alive again. She was now also as good as she had before been evil.

Then said Ivaschka to Sila—

“Good-bye, Sila Czarovitch, you will see me no more;” and as soon as he had spoken those words he disappeared.

Sila struck his tent and went on homewards, and when he came to the spot where he had left his ship, he dismissed the troops that accompanied him, went on board with his queen, and set sail. He soon came to his own land, and his arrival there was greeted with the sound of cannon. Czar Chotei came to meet him, and taking him and his wife by their white hands he led them into the white marble room. Then there was a feast prepared, and they ate and drank and were merry. Sila lived with his father two years, and then he went back to the country of his father-in-law, King Salom. He succeeded him on the throne, and reigned with his beautiful Queen Truda, during many years, with much love and happiness.

THE STOLEN HEART.

ONCE upon a time there stood, on an island in the Vistula, a great castle surrounded by a strong rampart. At each corner was a tower, and from these there waved in the wind many a flag, while the soldiers stood on guard upon them. A bridge connected the island with the banks of the river.

In this castle lived a knight, a brave and famous warrior. When the trumpets sounded from the battlements of the castle, their notes announced that he had returned from victory loaded with booty.

In the deep dungeons of the castle many a prisoner was confined, and they were led out daily to work. They had to keep the ramparts in repair, and to see to the garden. Now among these prisoners was an old woman, who was a sorceress. She swore that she would be revenged upon the knight for his ill-treatment of her, and patiently awaited an opportunity to effect her purpose.

One day the knight came back wearied out with his exertions on one of his warlike excursions. He lay down upon the grass, closed his eyes, and was soon fast asleep.

The witch seized the opportunity. Coming gently to him, she scattered poppy seed on his eyes so that he should sleep the sounder. Then, with an aspen branch, she struck him on the breast over his heart.

The knight’s breast at once opened, so that one could look in and see the heart as it lay there and beat. The sorceress laughed, stretched out her bony arm, and with her long fingers she stole away the heart so quietly that the knight never woke.

Then the woman took a hare’s heart which she had ready, put it in the sleeping man’s breast, and closed up the opening. Going away softly, she hid herself in a thicket, to see the effect of her wicked work.

Before the knight was even awake he began to feel the change that the hare’s heart was making in him. He, who had till now never known fear, quaked and tossed himself uneasily from side to side. When he awoke he felt as if he should be crushed by his armour. The cry of his hounds, as it fell on his ear, filled him with terror.

Once he had loved to hear their deep baying as he followed them in pursuit of the prey in the wild forest, but now he was filled with fear, and fled like a timid hare. As he ran to his room the clang of his armour, the ringing of his silver spurs, the clatter of his spear, filled him with such terror that he threw all aside, and sank exhausted on his bed.

Even in his sleep fear pursued him. Once he dreamed only of battles, and of the prizes of victory, now he trembled as he dreamt. The barking of his dogs, the voices of his soldiers as they paced the ramparts while they watched, made him quake as he lay on his bed, and he buried his head, like a frightened child, in his pillow.

At length there came a body of the knight’s enemies to besiege him in his castle. The knight’s soldiers looked upon their leader, who had so often delighted in the excitement of the camp, and in the victory. In vain they waited for him to lead them forth. The once so brave knight, when he heard the clash of arms, the cry of the men, and the clang of the horses’ hoofs, fled to the topmost chamber of his castle, and from there looked down upon the force which had come against him.

When he recollected his expeditions in the time past, his combats, his victories, he wept bitterly, and cried out aloud—

“O Heaven! give me now courage, give me the old strength of heart and vigour. My men have already gone to the field, and I, who used to lead them, now, like a girl, look through the highest loophole upon my enemies. Give me my old boldness, that I may take my arms again; make me what I was once, and bless me with victory.”

These thoughts, as it were, awakened him from a dream. He went again into his chamber, put on his armour, leaped upon his horse, and rode outside the castle gate. The soldiers saw him come with joy, and sounded the trumpets. The knight went on, but in his secret soul he was afraid, and when his men gallantly threw themselves upon the enemy, deadly fear came over him, and he turned and fled.