Russian Magic Tales from Pushkin to Platonov (Penguin Classics) (45 page)

The young mistress was waiting not far away. She went into the servants’ hut and saw Maryushka with her golden embroidery frame and her golden needle that sewed by itself. Her heart went wild with envy and greed, and she said, ‘Oh Maryushka, oh my darling Maryushka, give me this trinket of yours or take anything you like in exchange for it! I’ve got a golden spindle, I can spin thread and I can weave cloth, but I’ve got nothing to embroider it with. If you don’t want to swap it, then sell it to me! I’ll pay any price you ask!’

‘No,’ said Maryushka, ‘that’s impossible. I can’t sell you my golden needle and my golden embroidery frame, and I can’t swap them for anything either. The very kindest and oldest of
the old grandmothers gave them to me as a gift. I can only give them to you.’

The young mistress took the golden needle and the golden embroidery frame, but she had nothing to give Maryushka in return. She said, ‘You can go along, if you like, and keep the flies off my husband. You used to ask to do that.’

‘All right,’ said Maryushka with a sigh. ‘I’ll go.’

After supper the young mistress decided not to give Finist a sleeping potion, but then she changed her mind and put one in his drink after all. ‘Why let him look at the girl?’ she thought. ‘He’ll be safer asleep.’

Maryushka went in to where Finist was sleeping. Now her heart could no longer bear it. She dropped down to the floor, her head against his white breast, and lamented:

‘Wake up, wake up, my Finist, my Bright Falcon. I’ve walked across the whole earth to find you. Three iron staffs have worn themselves down beside me, the hard ground has ground them to nothing. My feet have worn out three pairs of iron shoes and I have gnawed my way through three stone loaves. Awake, my Finist, wake up, my Falcon! Take pity on me!’

But Finist was asleep. He sensed nothing. He did not hear Maryushka’s voice.

Maryushka wept over him for a long time. She tried and tried to wake him up, but she could do nothing – his wife’s sleeping potion was too strong. But then one of Maryushka’s hot tears fell on Finist’s chest, and a second fell on his face. The first tear burnt his heart; the second tear opened his eyes. He awoke at once.

‘What is it?’ he said. ‘What is it that’s burnt me?’

‘Finist, my Bright Falcon!’ answered Maryushka. ‘Awake to me – I’m here now! I’ve searched and searched for you. I’ve worn iron shoes and iron staffs to nothing. Iron couldn’t last out the journey. Only I could. And now I’ve been calling you for three nights, and all you’ve done is sleep. You haven’t awoken. You haven’t answered my voice.’

At last Finist the Bright Falcon knew his Maryushka, his fair maiden. At first he was so overjoyed that joy made him unable to speak. He just clasped Maryushka to his white breast and kissed her.

When he came to, when he took in that his Maryushka was with him again, he said, ‘Be my grey dove, my faithful love!’

There and then he turned into a falcon, and Maryushka into a dove.

They flew away into the heavens and flew side by side all through the night, until dawn.

While they were flying, Maryushka said, ‘Falcon, falcon, where are you flying to? Your wife will miss you!’

Finist the Falcon heard what she said and answered, ‘It’s to you I’m flying, my fair maiden. And as for a wife who sells her husband for a spindle, a saucer and a needle – she doesn’t need a husband and she won’t miss him.’

‘What made you marry a wife like that?’ asked Maryushka. ‘Was it against your will?’

‘No, but it was against my fate, and without my love.’
²

And they flew on further, side by side.

At dawn they dropped down to earth. Maryushka looked around – there was her father’s house, just as it had always been. She wanted to see her father, and there and then she turned into a fair maiden. And Finist the Bright Falcon struck against the damp earth and became a little feather.

Maryushka took the feather, hid it in her bosom and went to her father.

‘Greetings, daughter! My youngest, my beloved! I thought you were gone from the world. Thank you for coming home, for not forgetting your father. But where have you been all this time? Why didn’t you hurry back sooner?’

‘Forgive me, Father. I did only what I had need to do.’

‘Well, needs must. I’m glad the need has passed.’

That day was a holiday. A big fair had opened in town. Her father was about to set out on his way there. And her two sisters were going with him to buy themselves presents.

Her father asked his little Maryushka to come too.

‘I’m worn out from the road, Father,’ she replied. ‘Anyway, I’ve nothing to wear. Everyone at the fair will be dressed in fine clothes.’

‘Maryushka, I’ll buy some fine clothes for you,’ said her father. ‘At the fair there’ll be plenty to choose from.’

‘We can lend you some of our own,’ said the elder sisters. ‘We’ve got more than we need.’

‘Oh thank you, sisters!’ Maryushka replied. ‘But your clothes won’t suit me – your bones aren’t my bones. Anyway, I’d rather stay here at home.’

‘All right, do as you please,’ said her father. ‘But what shall I bring you back from the fair? Tell me. Don’t treat your father unkindly.’

‘Dear Father, there isn’t anything I want. I’ve got everything already. It’s not for nothing I wandered so far and wore myself out on the road.’

The father rode off to the fair with his two elder daughters. Straight away Maryushka took out her little feather. It struck against the floor and turned into a handsome young man – Finist, only he was now more handsome than ever. Maryushka gazed at him in wonder but was so happy she couldn’t think what to say.

‘Don’t look so full of wonder, Maryushka. It’s your love that’s made me like this.’

‘I may be wondering at you,’ said Maryushka, ‘but really you remain always the same to me. I love you however you seem.’

‘Where’s your dear father?’

‘He’s gone to the fair. So have my elder sisters.’

‘Why haven’t you gone with them, my Maryushka?’

‘I’ve got Finist, my Bright Falcon. What do I need from the fair?’

‘I don’t need anything either,’ said Finist. ‘Your love has made me rich.’

Finist turned around and whistled out of the window. At once there appeared fine clothes and adornments, and a golden carriage. They dressed, sat down in the carriage, and the horses were off like lightning.

They reached the fair just as it opened. There were mountains of all kinds of costly goods and foods, and the buyers were still on their way.

Finist bought everything there was in the fair, all the foods and all the goods. He ordered everything to be taken by cart to
the village where Maryushka’s father lived. The only thing he did not buy was the cartwheel grease. He left that on the stalls.

He wanted all the peasants who came to the fair to be guests at his wedding and to get to it as quickly as possible. For that, they’d need to grease the wheels of their carts.

Finist and Maryushka set off back home. They went fast. The horses could hardly breathe for the wind.

Halfway back Maryushka saw her father and her elder sisters. They were still on their way to the fair. Maryushka told them to turn round and go home, to her wedding with Finist the Bright Falcon.

In three days everyone who lived within fifty miles had arrived. Finist and Maryushka were married. It was a splendid wedding.

Our grandfathers and grandmothers all went to this wedding. They feasted a long time and drank toasts to the bride and groom. They would have stayed till winter, but the time came to bring in the harvest. The wheat was already starting to shed its grain. And so the wedding ended and the guests all left.

The wedding came to an end. In time even the wedding feast was forgotten, but Maryushka’s true and loving heart is remembered forever throughout all Russia.

In a certain village there once lived a peasant woman, a widow. She lived long, bringing up her son Ivan.

And then the time came – Ivan had become a man. His mother was glad he was fully grown now, but she did wish he hadn’t grown up so very hapless. No matter how he tried, her son could do nothing right. All he did went askew; nothing went true.

He would go out to plough. His mother would say to him, ‘Plough a bit deeper this time, son. The soil on top’s been worn out.’ Ivan ploughed as deep as he could, cutting right down into the clay and turning it up on top. Then he sowed the grain – and nothing came of it, the seeds were all wasted.

It was the same with everything else. Ivan always did his best, but he had little wit and nothing that could be called luck. But his mother was already old and she no longer had the strength to work. How were they to live? And they were very poor; they owned nothing at all.

One day they ate their last crust of bread. The mother thought and thought: how was her hapless son going to live? She had to get someone to marry him. A wise wife can turn even the daftest, most luckless of husbands into a deft worker who can earn his keep. But then who would want to marry her son? Not even a widow, let alone a fair maiden, would want her hapless son for a husband.

While his mother grieved, Ivan just sat on the earth wall outside, without a care in the world.

Suddenly he looked up and saw a little old man, a frail old man covered in moss. Earth had eaten into his face; it had been driven there by the wind.

‘Give us a bite to eat, my son,’ said the little old man. ‘I’ve grown thin from the road and I’ve eaten the last crumb in my pouch.’

‘Grandad, we haven’t a morsel left in the hut,’ said Ivan. ‘We didn’t know you were coming or I’d have saved our last crust for you. I wouldn’t have eaten it yesterday. But come along in. At least I can give you a good scrub and wash your shirt for you.’

Ivan heated up the bathhouse, scraped all the dirt off the old man, beat him with a besom so he’d work up a good sweat, washed his shirt and trousers and laid out a bed for him in their hut.

The old man slept well. When he woke in the morning, he said, ‘I’ll remember your kindness, the good turn you’ve done me. If ever you’re in trouble, just go into the forest. When you come to where the path forks, you’ll see a grey stone. Give the stone a push with your shoulder and call out, “Grandad!” I’ll come straight away.’

With that the old man went off. As for Ivan and his mother, life got still worse for them. They had eaten every last crumb, every last scrap from their larder.

‘You just wait here for me, Mother,’ said Ivan. ‘I won’t be gone long. Maybe I’ll be able to bring you some bread.’

‘A likely story!’ answered his mother. ‘Where’s a man with your luck going to get bread? Get something to eat for yourself if you can, but don’t worry about me. I’ll be dying hungry – no doubt about it. Now if only you could find yourself a good wife. Marry a wife with a head on her shoulders – you see – and you need never go hungry again!’

Ivan sighed and went off into the forest. He came to where the path forked and pushed the stone with his shoulder. The stone yielded a little – and there before Ivan appeared the old man.

‘What do you want?’ said the old man. ‘Or have you just come to visit?’

The old man took Ivan into the forest. After a while they came to some fine huts. The old man went straight inside one of them, taking Ivan with him; evidently he was the master there.
¹

The old man called his cook and the boy who worked with her in the kitchen and said they’d like to start with some roast sheep. He served his guest himself. Ivan ate all he was given and asked for more: ‘Tell them to roast another sheep and to bring me a loaf of bread.’

The old man told the kitchen boy to roast another sheep and to bring in a loaf of wheaten bread. ‘There you are,’ he said. ‘Take all your heart asks for. Or maybe you’ve had enough already?’

‘Thank you very much,’ said Ivan. ‘Yes, I’ve had all I want for myself. But ask your servant to take the sheep and the bread to my mother. She’s living all hungry, with no food at all.’

The old man told his kitchen boy to take a whole sheep and two loaves of white bread to Ivan’s mother. Then he asked, ‘How come you and your mother are living all hungry? You’re a man now. Before you know it, you’ll find yourself married. How are you going to keep your family?’

‘I don’t know, Grandad. Anyway, I have no sweetheart.’

‘That’s a great pity,’ said Ivan’s host. ‘But I can give you my daughter in marriage. She’s a clever girl – she’s blessed with enough wit for you both.’

The old man called his daughter. In came a beautiful maiden. No one had ever seen such beauty or known it was to be found in the world. The moment Ivan saw her, his heart missed a beat.

The old father looked sternly at his daughter and said, ‘Here is your husband, and you are his wife.’

The beautiful daughter merely lowered her eyes and said, ‘As you wish, Father.’

And so they got married and began living together. They lived well and there was nothing they lacked. Ivan’s wife looked after the hut. As for the old master, he was seldom at home. Most of the time he was wandering the world, searching amid the people for wisdom. Whenever he found some wisdom, he came back home and noted it down in his book.

One time the old man came back with a little round mirror. It was a magic mirror that he’d brought from far away, from a craftsman-magician in the Cold Mountains. The old man brought it back and stored it away.

Ivan’s mother was living well now, with plenty to eat, but she went on living in her own hut in the village. Her son wanted her to come and live with him and his wife, but she refused. She didn’t like the idea of sharing the home of her daughter-in-law.

‘I’m frightened, my son,’ she said. ‘Your dear Yelenushka’s a great beauty. She’s rich and from a fine family. What have you done to deserve her? My fate and your father’s fate was to be poor, and as for you – you were born with no fate at all.’

And so Ivan’s mother went on living in her own little old hut. And Ivan thought about what she’d said. It was true. It seemed he had all he needed. His wife was always sweet to him and she never said a cross word. But it was as if, deep inside him, Ivan always felt cold. The life he was living with his young wife was only half a life; it wasn’t the life it should have been.