Ivan went to the palace. And along came his two brothers; their wives were arrayed in all their finest clothes and jewels. The brothers looked at Ivan and began to laugh. ‘Why haven’t you brought your own wife along then?’ they asked. ‘You could have wrapped her up in a silk handkerchief and carried her here in your hands. Where did you find such a beauty anyway? You must have had to search every bog in the tsardom.’
Suddenly there were cracks of thunder. The palace shook. Everyone jumped to their feet in fear, but Ivan said, ‘Don’t be afraid, honest guests. That’s my little frog, riding along in her little box.’
Drawn by six white horses, a gilded carriage drew up to the palace gate – and out stepped Vasilisa the Wise, more beautiful than pen can portray or anyone but a storyteller can say. She took Ivan Tsarevich by the hand and sat down with him at the oak table.
The guests began to eat, drink and be merry. Vasilisa drank her glass of wine and poured the dregs into her left sleeve. She ate some roast swan and dropped the bones into her right sleeve. The elder brothers’ wives watched what she did, then did the same themselves.
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When everyone had eaten and drunk, it was time to dance. Vasilisa the Wise took Ivan Tsarevich by the hand and got up. As she danced, she waved her left arm in the air – and out of nowhere appeared a beautiful lake. She waved her right arm in the air – and there, swimming across this lake, were seven white swans. The tsar and his guests were filled with wonder. Then the wives of the two elder brothers began to dance. They waved their left arms in the air – and sprayed wine over the guests. They waved their right arms in the air – and the bone of a swan flew into the tsar’s eye. The tsar was furious, and he had the two women thrown out of the palace.
After that Ivan Tsarevich slipped out and rode back home. He found the frog skin and threw it onto the fire. Then Vasilisa the Wise came back. She looked round but couldn’t see her frog skin anywhere. ‘Ivan Tsarevich! Ivan Tsarevich!’ she lamented. ‘What have you done? If you’d only waited, if you’d only waited, I could have been yours forever. But now – farewell! If you want me, you must seek me beyond thrice-nine lands, in the thrice-tenth tsardom. I’ll be with Koshchey the Deathless.’
She turned into a white swan and flew out of the window.
Ivan Tsarevich wept bitterly, then made ready, said farewell to his mother and father and set off where his eyes looked. He walked a long way, or maybe a short way; he walked for many a day, or maybe less than a day. Then he met an old, old man.
‘Greetings, young warrior!’ said the old man. ‘Where are you going? What are you looking for?’
Ivan told him his story.
‘Ivan Tsarevich!’ said the old man. ‘What made you burn the
frog’s skin? It wasn’t your own attire – nor was it yours to throw in the fire. Vasilisa the Wise was born smarter and wiser than her own father. Her father didn’t like this, so he turned her into a frog for three years. Well, I’ll do what I can for you. Here, take this ball! Follow boldly wherever it rolls.’
Ivan Tsarevich thanked the old man and set off after the ball. As he was walking through open steppe, he caught sight of a bear. He was about to shoot the beast when it said, in a human voice, ‘Don’t kill me, Ivan Tsarevich. One day I’ll be of service to you.’
He walked on further. He saw a drake flying overhead. He had taken aim with his bow, he was about to shoot the drake, when it cried out in a human voice, ‘Don’t kill me, Ivan Tsarevich. One day I’ll be of service to you.’
He walked on further. A hare ran past. He raised his bow and was taking aim when it said in a human voice, ‘Don’t kill me, Ivan Tsarevich. One day I’ll be of service to you.’
Ivan took pity on the hare too. He walked on till he came to the sea. There on the shore lay a pike. It was dying. ‘Ivan Tsarevich!’ it gasped. ‘Take pity on me. Throw me back into the sea.’ Ivan picked up the pike and threw it into the water.
After a long time, or maybe a short time, the ball rolled up to a little hut by the very edge of the sea. It was built on chicken legs and it was turning round and round in circles.
‘Stand still, little hut!’ said Ivan. ‘Stay as your mother made you. Stay with your back towards the sea and your door towards me.’
The hut turned round and came to a stop with its back towards the sea. Ivan walked in. There on the stove, on the ninth brick, lay a bony-legged baba yaga. Her nose had grown into the ceiling and the snot from it was hanging across the threshold. She had slung her tits up over a hook and was sharpening her teeth.
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‘What’s brought you here, my fine fellow?’ she asked.
‘What a slut you are! First you should give me something to eat and drink. You should take me to the bathhouse for a good steam. After that you can ask me again.’
The baba yaga gave him food and drink and took him to the
bathhouse. Then the traveller told her he was looking for his wife, Vasilisa the Wise.
‘Oh yes,’ said the baba yaga, ‘I know all about her. She’s with Koshchey the Deathless. You won’t find it easy to get her away from him. His death lies in the tip of a needle. This needle lies inside an egg. This egg lies inside a duck. This duck lies inside the belly of a hare. And this hare lies inside a chest hidden at the top of a tall oak that Koshchey watches over like the apple of his eye.’
The yaga told Ivan Tsarevich where this oak grew, and there he went – but he had no idea how to get his hands on the chest.
Just then a bear came along and uprooted the tree. The chest fell to the ground and smashed to pieces. A hare leaped out and shot into the bushes.
A second hare shot after it, caught it and tore it apart.
A duck leaped out of the hare’s belly and flew high into the sky. A drake swooped down and gave it such a blow that it dropped the egg it was carrying straight into the blue sea. This was more than Ivan Tsarevich could bear – he sat down by the shore and began to weep tear after bitter tear.
All of a sudden a pike swam up to the shore. In its mouth it was holding an egg. Ivan took the egg and went straight to where Koshchey lived. Seeing the egg in Ivan’s hands, Koshchey began to tremble. Ivan Tsarevich began playing with the egg, tossing it from one hand to the other. Koshchey writhed and struggled and swayed from side to side. Then Ivan cracked the egg, took out the needle and snapped off the tip – and that was the end of Koshchey. Ivan went into Koshchey’s stone house. There he found Vasilisa the Wise, and he took her back with him to his own land.
When they got back, Ivan’s father invited the whole country to a banquet in their honour. After that they lived happily together for many years.
A great prince had a beautiful wife and he loved her with all his heart. His wife died and he had only his daughter, who was as like her mother as one drop of water is like another drop of water. The prince said to his daughter, ‘Dear daughter, I shall marry you!’ The girl went to the cemetery, to her mother’s grave, and began to weep bitterly. The mother said, ‘Order a dress to be bought for you – a dress covered in stars!’ The prince bought the girl just such a dress and fell in love with her more than ever. The girl went to talk to her mother again. The mother said, ‘Order a dress to be bought for you – a dress with the silver moon sewn on its back and the golden sun on its front.’ The father bought the dress and fell still more deeply in love. The girl went to her mother again and wept bitterly: ‘Mother, my father now loves me more than ever.’ ‘Well, my child,’ said the mother, ‘now you must order a pig skin to be made for you.’ The father had that made too; and, as soon as the skin was ready, the daughter put it on. The father spat on her and threw her out of their home. He didn’t allow her any maids, nor did he even give her any bread to take with her. The girl crossed herself and walked out through the gate. ‘I’ll go,’ she said, ‘wherever God wills.’ She walked for a day, and for a second day, and for a third day; she entered unknown lands.
Storm clouds appeared and it began to rain. Where could she shelter? The princess saw a huge oak tree; she climbed up and sat in its branches. Just then a tsarevich came past; he was going hunting. His dogs rushed at the oak; they leaped at the tree and barked at it. The tsarevich was curious; why, he wondered, were his dogs barking at a tree? He sent his servant to
look. The servant came back and said, ‘your Highness! There’s a beast sitting up in the oak tree – only it’s not a beast but a marvellous wonder, a wondrous marvel!’ The tsarevich went to the foot of the tree and asked, ‘What kind of a marvel are you? Can you or can you not speak?’ The princess replied, ‘I am Pig Skin.’ Instead of going on with his hunting, the tsarevich sat Pig Skin in his carriage and said, ‘I shall show my mother and father this marvellous wonder, this wondrous marvel.’ His mother and father marvelled at Pig Skin and had her put in a special room.
Soon afterwards the tsar gave a ball; everyone at court went to make merry. Pig Skin asked one of the servants, ‘May I stand by the door and watch the ball?’ ‘Don’t even think of it, Pig Skin!’ She went out into open steppe and put on a dress that was scattered with glittering stars. She let out something between a shout and a whistle – and there beside her was a carriage. Off she drove to the ball. She arrived, went in and began to dance. Everyone marvelled: where had such a beauty appeared from? She danced and danced, and then she disappeared; she put on her pig skin and ran back to her room. The tsarevich went to her room and asked, ‘Wasn’t that you, Pig Skin? Weren’t you that beauty?’ ‘Me with this skin of mine!’ she replied. ‘How could I have been at the ball? I just stood by the door.’
The tsar gave another ball. Pig Skin asked to be allowed to go and watch. ‘Don’t even think of it!’ She went out into open steppe and let out something between a shout and a whistle – and a carriage appeared. She cast off her pig skin and put on a dress; the moon shone on her back, and the golden sun from her breast. She arrived at the ball and began to dance. There she was, dancing at the ball. Everyone watched. She danced for a while, and then she disappeared; she put on her pig skin and ran back to her room. ‘What am I to do?’ thought the tsarevich. ‘Who can that beauty have been? How am I to find out?’ Then he had an idea: he would smear the first of the steps with pitch. Then her shoe would stick and be left behind.
At the third ball the princess seemed more beautiful still. But when she left the palace, her little shoe stuck to the pitch. The
tsarevich took this little shoe and began to search everywhere in the tsardom: whose foot would the little shoe fit? He travelled through all his lands and found no one whom the shoe fitted. He got back home, went straight to Pig Skin and said, ‘Show me your foot.’ She showed him her foot; the little shoe proved a perfect fit. Then the tsarevich slit open the pig skin and took it off the princess. Then he took her by her white hand, led her to his mother and father and asked their permission to marry her. The tsar and tsaritsa gave the young couple their blessing. When they were married, the tsarevich asked his wife, ‘Why were you wearing a pig skin?’ ‘It was because I looked like my late mother,’ she replied, ‘and my father wanted to marry me.’
Once there were a tsar and tsaritsa who had a son and a daughter. They told their son that when they both died, he must marry his sister. And after a while – maybe a long while or maybe only a short while – the tsar and tsaritsa died. The brother ordered his sister to prepare for their wedding, and he himself went to the priest, to ask him to marry them.
The sister began to dress herself and she made three dolls. She put the dolls on the windowsill, stood in the middle of the hut and said, ‘Dolls, wake up!’ ‘What is it?’ asked the first doll. ‘The brother is marrying the sister,’ said the second doll. ‘Earth, open up! Sister, fall down!’ said the third doll. And the three dolls said all this a second time and a third time. The brother came and asked his sister, ‘Have you finished dressing yet?’ The sister replied, ‘No, not quite.’ So he went to his chambers and waited for his sister to get ready. But the sister said once again, ‘Dolls, wake up!’ And the first doll asked ‘What is it?’ And the second doll said, ‘The brother is marrying the sister.’ And the third doll said, ‘Earth, open up! Sister, fall down!’ And the sister fell down into the other world. When the brother came back, he could not find his sister anywhere. He was left on his own.
After falling into the other world, the sister walked and walked until she saw an oak tree. She went up to the oak and took off her clothes. The oak opened up. She put her clothes in the hollow, made herself into an old woman and walked on. She walked and walked until she came to a tsar’s palace. There she asked if she could work as a maid. They said she could stoke the stoves. Now the tsar had a son who had not yet married. When Sunday came, this son was dressing, getting ready
to go to church. He asked the old woman to give him a comb. The old woman was rather slow, and he lost his temper and hit her with this comb on the cheek. Then he finished dressing and went off to church. The old woman went to the oak where she had hidden her clothes; the oak opened up for her. She dressed, made herself into a very beautiful tsarevna, then went to the church. The tsarevich saw her there and asked one of his servants where she was from. The servant knew she was the old woman who stoked the stoves and that the tsarevich had hit her with his comb, and so he answered, ‘She comes from the town of Combblow.’ The tsarevich went back home. He asked everyone where he could find this town, but no one could tell him.
Somehow it happened a second time that the tsarevich got angry, hit the old-woman-tsarevna with a boot and then went off to church. The unknown beauty was there again, wearing the clothes she had hidden in the oak tree. Seeing her, the tsarevich once again asked his servant where she was from. The servant answered, ‘From Bootblow.’ The tsarevich searched and searched for this town but couldn’t find it anywhere in his tsardom. And he began to wonder what he could do: how could he get to know this beautiful stranger? He had fallen in love with her and he wanted her for his wife. In the end he came up with a ruse. He ordered pitch to be smeared on the floor of the church, in the place where she always stood – just a little, so that she wouldn’t see it.