Koshchéi Without-Death

Once upon a time, in a certain land, there lived a Tsar and a Tsaritsa. They had a son, Ivan Tsarevich. When he was a baby, the nursemaids rocked him in his cradle, but no matter what they did, they could not make him sleep. At last they said to the Tsar, "Great lord, come and rock your own son." So the Tsar came and rocked the child, singing softly, "Sleep, little son, sleep, my own dear. When you grow up, I will get you Peerless Beauty as your bride—the daughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, and the sister of nine brothers." And no sooner had he spoken than the Tsarevich fell asleep, and he slept for three days and three nights. When he woke, he cried louder than before.

The nursemaids tried again to rock him, but they could not. Again they called the Tsar, and he came and rocked him, saying the same words. Once more the Tsarevich fell asleep and slept for three days and three nights. When he woke, he cried even harder.

The nursemaids tried once more, but it was useless. "Tsar, great lord," they said, "come and rock your own son." The Tsar came and rocked him, repeating the promise about Peerless Beauty. The child fell asleep again, and slept another three days and three nights. This time when he woke, he did not cry. Instead, he said, "Give me your blessing, Father. I am going to marry."

"What do you mean, my dear child?" asked the Tsar. "You are only nine days old! Where can you go?"

"If you give me your blessing, I will go," said Ivan. "If not, I will go anyway."

"Well, the Lord guide you," said the Tsar.

Ivan Tsarevich dressed himself and went out to find a horse. He had not gone far when he met an old man. "Where are you going, young man?" asked the old man. "Of your own will, or against your will?"

But Ivan did not answer; he just walked on. After a little while he changed his mind and thought, "Why did I not speak to that old man? Old people bring us wisdom." So he turned back and caught up with him. "Stop, grandfather," he said. "What did you ask me?"

"I asked where you are going—of your own will, or against your will?"

"I go partly of my own will, and twice as much against it," said Ivan. "When I was very young, my father rocked me in the cradle and promised me Peerless Beauty as my bride."

"You are a fine young man," said the old man, "and you speak well. But you cannot go on foot, for Peerless Beauty lives far away."

"How far?" asked Ivan.

"In the Golden Kingdom, at the end of the white world, where the sun rises."

"What am I to do? I have no saddle-horse that has never been ridden, and no silken whip that has never been used."

"Why not?" said the old man. "Your father has thirty horses, all alike. Go home and tell the grooms to water them at the blue sea. Watch them carefully. The one that pushes ahead, wades into the water up to its neck, and drinks so deeply that waves rise on the sea and roll from shore to shore—that is the horse you must choose."

"God save you for your good advice, grandfather!" said Ivan, and he returned home.

He did exactly as the old man had said. He chose a mighty steed, spent the night, and rose early the next morning. He opened the gate and was about to ride out when the horse spoke in a human voice: "Ivan Tsarevich, drop to the earth, and I will push you three times." He pushed him once, he pushed him twice, but the third time he did not. "If I pushed you a third time," said the horse, "the earth would not be able to bear both of us."

Ivan Tsarevich saddled his horse, mounted, and rode away. The Tsar barely caught a glimpse of him as he vanished into the distance. He rode far and wide, and as the day grew short and night approached, he came to a house that stood like a town, each room a chamber. He rode to the porch, tied his horse to a copper ring, and went inside. He entered the first room, then the second, prayed to God, and asked for a night's lodging.

"Stay the night, good youth," said an old woman who lived there. "Where is God taking you?"

"Old woman, you ask impolitely," said Ivan. "First give me food and drink, put me to rest, and then ask your questions."

So she fed him, gave him drink, and put him to bed. Then she asked for his news.

"I was very young, grandmother," he said, "when my father rocked me in the cradle and promised me Peerless Beauty as my bride—the daughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, and the sister of nine brothers."

"You are a good youth and fair spoken," said the old woman. "I have lived to the end of my seventh decade, and I have never heard of such a beauty. But my elder sister lives farther on; perhaps she knows. Sleep now, for the morning is wiser than the evening."

Ivan spent the night, and the next morning he rose early, washed himself white, led out his steed, saddled him, and rode away. The old woman barely saw him leave. He rode far and wide, and again as night fell he came to another house like a town. He tied his horse to a silver ring and went in. An old woman greeted him, saying, "Tfu, tfu! A Russian bone was never seen with sight nor heard with hearing, and now it has come to my house! Where have you come from, Ivan Tsarevich?"

"Oh, you old hag," said Ivan, "how angry you are! You should first give me food and drink, put me to rest, and then ask for news."

So she seated him at the table, gave him food and drink, and put him to bed. Then she sat by his head and asked, "Where is God taking you?"

"I was in my tender years, grandmother," he said, "when my father rocked me in the cradle and promised me Peerless Beauty, the daughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, and the sister of nine brothers."

"You are a good youth, kind of speech," she said. "I am nearing the end of my eighth decade, and I have never heard of her. But my elder sister lives farther along the road; perhaps she knows. She has answer-givers: the beasts of the forest, the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea. Everything in the white world obeys her. Go to her in the morning. Sleep now, for the morning is wiser than the evening."

Ivan spent the night, rose early, washed very white, mounted his steed, and rode on. The day grew short and night approached, and there stood a third house like a town. He tied his horse to a golden ring and entered. An old woman screamed at him: "Oh, you good-for-nothing! You are not worthy of an iron ring, and you tie your horse to a golden one!"

"Well, grandmother," said Ivan, "do not scold. I can always untie the horse and tie it to another ring."

"Oh, good hero," she said, softening, "did I frighten you? Do not be afraid. Sit on the bench, and I will ask where you come from."

"Grandmother," said Ivan, "first give me food and drink, then ask your questions. See, I am a traveler and have not eaten all day."

So she set the table, brought bread and salt, poured a glass of vodka, and began to entertain him. He ate and drank his fill, then threw himself on the bed. The old woman did not ask anything, so he told her himself: "I was in my tender years; my father rocked me in the cradle and promised me Peerless Beauty—the daughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, and the sister of nine brothers. Do me a kindness, grandmother; tell me where Peerless Beauty lives and how I may reach her."

"Ivan Tsarevich," she said, "I do not know myself. I am ending my ninth decade, and I have not heard of that beauty. But sleep now; in the morning I will summon my answer-givers, and perhaps one of them will know."

The next day the old woman rose early and washed herself white. She came out with Ivan onto the porch, cried with a champion's voice, and whistled with a hero's whistle. She called to the fish of the sea and all water creatures, "Come here!" Instantly the blue sea boiled, and fish great and small gathered, and all the creatures came toward the shore, covering the water.

The old woman asked, "Where does Peerless Beauty live—the daughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, the sister of nine brothers?"

All the fish and creatures answered in one voice, "We have not seen her with our eyes, nor heard of her with our ears."

Then the old woman called to the beasts of the forest, "Assemble!" The beasts ran and hid the earth. In one voice they answered, "We have not seen her, nor heard of her."

Finally she cried to the birds of the air, "Come here!" The birds flew and hid the light of day. They answered, "We have not seen her, nor heard of her."

"There is no one else to ask," said the old woman. She took Ivan by the hand and led him inside. As they entered, the Mogol bird arrived on the wing and fell to the ground, casting a shadow dark as night.

"Oh, Mogol bird," said the old woman, "where have you been flying? Why are you late?"

"I was dressing Peerless Beauty for mass."

"Then you have the news I need. Now do me a service: carry this youth to her."

"Gladly," said the bird, "but I need much food."

"How much?"

"Three forties of beef and a vessel of water."

Ivan filled the vessel with water and brought the oxen with beef. He put the kegs on the bird, ran to the forge, and had a long iron lance made. Then he bade farewell to the old woman. "Goodbye," he said. "Feed my good steed well; I will pay you for everything."

He sat on the Mogol bird, and it rose and flew. It flew and looked around continually. Whenever it turned its head, Ivan would feed it a piece of meat on the end of his lance. They flew for a long time. Ivan had already given two kegs of beef and had begun on the third when he said, "O Mogol bird, fall to the damp earth, for little food is left."

"What are you saying, Ivan Tsarevich?" said the bird. "Below us are sleeping forests and sticky morasses. We would never escape from them."

So Ivan gave out all the beef and threw down the empty kegs. But the Mogol bird flew on, looking around. What could he do? Ivan thought a while, then cut off the calves of his own legs and gave them to the bird. The bird swallowed them and flew on until it reached a green meadow of silken grass and blue flowers. There it dropped to the earth. Ivan stood on his feet, but he was lame in both legs.

"What is the matter, Ivan Tsarevich?" asked the bird. "Are you lame?"

"Yes," said Ivan. "A little while ago I cut off my calves to feed you."

The Mogol bird coughed up the calves, placed them on Ivan's legs, blew and spat on them, and the calves grew back in place. Ivan was strong and active again, and he went on his way.

He came to a great city and stopped to rest with an old woman who lived in a backyard. "Sleep, Ivan Tsarevich," she said. "In the morning, when the bell rings, I will wake you."

Ivan lay down and slept at once. He slept all day and all night. When the bell rang for early prayers, the old woman ran to him and beat him with whatever came to hand, but she could not wake him. The morning prayers ended, and the bell rang for mass. Peerless Beauty went to church. The old woman tried again, beating him with whatever she could grab, and with great effort she finally woke him. Ivan sprang up quickly, washed himself white, dressed, and hurried to church. He entered, prayed before the images, bowed on all sides, and especially to Peerless Beauty. They stood side by side and prayed. After mass, she went to the cross first, and he followed. Then he went out onto the platform and looked at the blue sea. Ships were approaching, and six champions came to offer marriage to Peerless Beauty.

The champions saw Ivan and began to mock him. "Oh, you country clown! Is such a beauty for you? You are not worth her middle finger!"

They said it once, they said it twice, they said it thrice. Ivan was offended. He swung his arm, and there was a street; he swung it a second time, and the place was clear and smooth all around. Then he returned to the old woman.

"Well, Ivan Tsarevich," she asked, "did you see Peerless Beauty?"

"I did," he said, "and I will never forget her."

"Now lie down to sleep," she said. "Tomorrow you will go to mass again. I will wake you when the bell rings."

Ivan lay down and slept all day and night. The bell rang for early prayers, and the old woman came running to wake him. She beat him with whatever was at hand, but she could not rouse him. Then the bell rang for mass, and she beat him again and finally woke him. Ivan sprang up very quickly, washed himself white, dressed, and went to church. He entered, prayed to the images, bowed on all sides, and especially to Peerless Beauty.

She looked at him and blushed. They stood side by side and prayed. After mass, she went to the cross first, and he second. The Tsarevich went out onto the platform and looked at the blue sea. Ships were sailing, and twelve champions came. They began to court Peerless Beauty and to mock Ivan: "Oh, you country clown, is such a beauty for you? You are not worth her middle finger!"

He was angered by their words. He swung his arm, and there was a street; he swung the other, and the place was clear and smooth. He returned to the old woman.

"Did you see Peerless Beauty?" she asked.

"I did," he said, "and I will not forget her for an age."

"Well, sleep now," she said. "In the morning I will wake you."

Ivan slept again. When the bell rang for morning prayers, the old woman ran in to wake him and beat him without mercy, but she could not rouse him. She kept at him until the bell rang for mass, and at last she woke him. He rose quickly, washed himself white, dressed, and went to church. When he arrived, he prayed to the images, bowed on all sides, and separately to Peerless Beauty. She greeted him and placed him at her right hand, while she stood at his left. They stood there praying. After mass, he went to the cross first, and she followed. Ivan went out onto the platform and looked at the blue sea. Ships were sailing, and twenty-four champions came to offer marriage to Peerless Beauty.

They saw Ivan and began to mock him: "Oh, country clown, is such a beauty for you? You are not worth her middle finger!" They surrounded him, trying to take his bride away. Ivan did not endure it. He swung his arm, and there was a street; he swung the other, and the place was smooth and clear. He killed them all to the last man.

Peerless Beauty took him by the hand, led him to her chambers, seated him at the oaken tables, and entertained him royally. She called him her bridegroom. Soon after, they prepared for the journey and set out for Ivan's land.

They traveled for many days and halted in an open field to rest. Peerless Beauty lay down to sleep, and Ivan watched over her. When she woke, he said, "Peerless Beauty, now you guard my sleep, for I am weary."

"How long will you sleep?" she asked.

"Nine days and nights," he said. "I will not turn from one side to the other. If you try to wake me, you will not succeed. When the time comes, I will wake myself."

"That is a long time, Ivan Tsarevich," she said. "I will be lonely."

"There is no help for it," he said.

So he lay down and slept for exactly nine days and nine nights. During that time, Koshchéi Without-Death came and carried away Peerless Beauty to his own kingdom. When Ivan woke, she was gone. He wept bitterly and wandered aimlessly, neither on the road nor off it. At last he came to the kingdom of Koshchéi Without-Death and begged lodging from an old woman.

"Well, Ivan Tsarevich," she said, "why are you so sad?"

"Thus and thus, grandmother," he said. "I had everything, and now I have nothing."

"Your affair is bad, Ivan Tsarevich," she said. "You cannot kill Koshchéi."

"At least let me look upon my bride," he said.

"Lie down and sleep till morning," she said. "Tomorrow Koshchéi goes to war."

Ivan lay down, but sleep did not come to him. In the morning, Koshchéi left the house, and Ivan went in. He stood at the gate and knocked. Peerless Beauty opened the door, saw him, and fell to weeping. They went inside and sat at the table, talking. Ivan told her, "Ask Koshchéi where his death is."

"I will," she promised.

He had barely left when Koshchéi returned. "Oh!" he said. "It smells of the Russian bone! Ivan Tsarevich must have been here."

"What are you thinking, Koshchéi Without-Death?" she said. "Where could I see Ivan Tsarevich? He is lost in the sleeping forests and sticky quagmires, and the wild beasts have devoured him long ago."

They sat down to supper. During the meal, Peerless Beauty asked, "Tell me, Koshchéi Without-Death, where is your death?"

"Why do you want to know, silly woman?" he said. "My death is tied up in the broom."

Early the next morning, Koshchéi went to war. Ivan came to Peerless Beauty, and she took the broom and gilded it with pure gold. When Ivan left, Koshchéi returned and said, "Ah! It smells of the Russian bone! Ivan Tsarevich has been here."

"What do you mean, Koshchéi?" she said. "You have been flying through Russia yourself and brought the smell back with you. Where should I see Ivan Tsarevich?"

At supper, Peerless Beauty sat on a low bench and made Koshchéi sit on a high one. He looked under the threshold and saw the gilded broom. "What is this?" he asked.

"Oh, Koshchéi Without-Death," she said, "you see how I honor you."

"Oh, simple woman," he laughed, "I was joking! My death is out there, fastened in the oak fence."

The next day Koshchéi went away. Ivan came and gilded the entire fence. In the evening Koshchéi returned and exclaimed, "Ah! It smells of the Russian bone! Ivan Tsarevich has been here."

"What do you mean, Koshchéi?" she said. "I have told you more than once: where am I to see Ivan Tsarevich? He is in dark forests and sticky quagmires, and the wild beasts have torn him to pieces by now."

At supper, Peerless Beauty sat on a bench and seated him on a chair. Koshchéi looked out the window and saw the fence shining like fire. "What is that?" he asked.

"You see yourself, Koshchéi," she said, "how I respect you. If you are dear to me, precious is your death."

This speech pleased Koshchéi. "Oh, simple woman," he said, "I was joking! My death is in an egg, the egg is in a duck, and the duck is in a stump floating on the sea."

When Koshchéi went off to war, Peerless Beauty baked cakes for Ivan and told him where to look for Koshchéi's death. Ivan set out, going neither by road nor path, and came to the broad ocean sea. He did not know where to go next. He had long since eaten all the cakes and had nothing left. Suddenly a hawk flew up. Ivan aimed his bow. "Well, hawk," he said, "I will shoot you and eat you raw."

"Do not eat me, Ivan Tsarevich," said the hawk. "I will serve you in time of need."

Then a bear ran by. "Oh, bear, crooked paw," said Ivan, "I will kill you and eat you raw!"

"Do not eat me," said the bear. "I will serve you in time of need."

Then he saw a pike struggling on the beach. "Oh, big-toothed pike," he said, "you have come to a fitting end! I will eat you raw."

"Eat me not," said the pike. "Throw me back into the sea. I will serve you in time of need."

Ivan stood there thinking, "The time of need will come, but I do not know when. For now, I must go hungry." All at once the blue sea boiled up, waves rose and began to cover the shore. Ivan ran up the hill as fast as he could, and the water followed at his heels. He climbed to the highest place and up a tree. After a little while, the water began to recede, the sea grew calm, and a great stump was left on the shore. The bear ran up, raised the stump, and hurled it to the ground. The stump burst open, and out flew a duck, soaring high. In that instant, the hawk appeared from nowhere and tore the duck in two. An egg fell out. The pike caught it, swam to the beach, and gave the egg to Ivan, who put it in his bosom.

He made his way to Koshchéi Without-Death's house. Peerless Beauty met him, kissed him on the lips, and fell on his shoulder. Koshchéi sat at the window, cursing. "Oh, Ivan Tsarevich," he said, "you want to take Peerless Beauty from me, but you will not live."

"You took her from me yourself," said Ivan, and he took the egg from his bosom and showed it to Koshchéi. "What is this?"

The light grew dim in Koshchéi's eyes. He became mild and obedient. Ivan threw the egg from one hand to the other. Koshchéi staggered from corner to corner. Ivan threw it faster and faster, and then he broke it. Koshchéi fell down dead.

Ivan attached horses to a golden carriage, loaded it with gold and silver, and set out for his father's land. On the way, he stopped at the house of the old woman who had consulted all the creatures. He found his faithful steed. "Glory to God," he said, "the black steed is alive!" He gave the old woman gold enough to last her ninety-nine years. Then he sent a courier ahead with a letter to his father: "Father, come to meet me. I am coming with my bride, Peerless Beauty."

The Tsar read the letter but could not believe it. How could his son be alive? He had left when he was only nine days old. But then Ivan himself arrived, and the Tsar saw it was true. He ran out onto the porch to greet him and ordered drums and music to be played.

"Father," said Ivan, "give me your blessing for the wedding."

Tsars do not need to brew beer or make wine, for they have plenty of everything. That very day there was a great feast and a wedding. They crowned Ivan Tsarevich and Peerless Beauty, and set out great jars of various drinks on all the streets. Everyone could come and drink whatever his soul desired. And I was there, drinking mead and wine. It flowed down my mustaches, but never reached my mouth.