Dobrynya and the Dragon

Young Dobrynya took his stout, death-dealing bow, his fiery little arrows, and went a-hunting, and came to the Blue Sea.

At the first bay he found no geese, swans, nor small gray ducks; neither did he find them at the second bay, nor at the third. Then Dobrynya's restive heart grew hot within him; he turned about quickly and went to his home, to his mother, sat down upon the square hewn bench, and dropped his eyes upon the oaken floor. Therewith came his mother to him, and said:

"Ai, young Dobrynushka Nikitich! Thou art returned in no merry mood."

"Ai, my mother!" quoth Dobrynya; "give me thy leave and blessing to go to the Púchai river."

"Young Dobrynya," his mother made answer, "I will give neither leave nor blessing. None who hath gone to the Púchai stream hath ever returned thence."

"Ai, little mother," said Dobrynya, "if thou give thy leave I will go; and if thou give it not, — I will go."

So his mother consented. He threw off his flowered raiment, and put on garments meet for a journey, and on his head a wide-brimmed hat from the Grecian land. Then he saddled and bridled a good steed which no man had ever ridden, took his stout bow, his fiery arrows, his sharp sword and far-reaching spear, and his battle-mace.

And as he rode forth, accompanied by his little page, his mother laid her commands upon him.

"If thou wilt go to the Púchai river, young Dobrynya, immeasurable heats shall overcome thee: yet, bathe thou not in Mother Púchai flood; for she is fierce and angry. From her first stream fire flasheth; from her second, sparks shower; from her third, smoke poureth in a pillar."

— They saw the good youth mounting, they saw him not as he rode, — there seemed but a wreath of mist far out on the open plain.

When he was come to Mother Púchai river, intolerable heat overpowered him, and he heeded not his mother's behest. He took from his head his cap from the Grecian land, put off his travelling garb, his shirt, his foot-gear of the seven silks, and began to bathe in the Púchai.

"My mother said this was a wild and angry stream," quoth he; "but 'tis gentle — peaceful as a pool of rain-water." He dived like a duck beneath the first stream, and through the second likewise. — And lo! there was no wind, but the clouds sailed on; there were no clouds, yet the rain dropped down; no rain was there, yet the lightning flashed; no lightning, yet sparks showered fast. No thick darkness was it that obscured the sky, nor gloomy clouds descending, but a fierce Dragon flying down upon Dobrynya, the savage Dragon of the Cavern, with her twelve tails.

"Aha! young Dobrynya Nikitich!" quoth the Dragon. "Now will I devour Dobrynushka whole! I will take dear little Dobrynya in my tail, and bear him into captivity."

"Ho, thou accursed Dragon!" said Dobrynya. "When thou shalt have captured Dobrynya, then will be the fitting time to boast; but thou hast not yet Dobrynya in thy claws!" Then he dived swiftly beneath the first stream, and out through the second. But his young page had been overhasty, and had driven away Dobrynya's good steed; he had carried ofi"the stout bow, the sharp sword, far-reaching spear, and war-mace. The cap alone was left, the wide-brimmed cap from the Grecian land.

Dobrynya seized his cap, filled it with sand from the river-bank, and with it smote the cursed worm, and hewed off three of her tails — the best of all.

Then the Dragon of the Cavern besought Dobrynya:

"Ai, thou young Dobrynya Nikitich! Give me not over to fruitless death, shed not my innocent blood! I will not fly in Holy Russia, I will imprison no more heroes, nor strangle young maidens, nor orphan little children. I will be to thee a submissive Dragon; and thou, Dobrynya, shalt be my elder brother, and I will be thy younger sister."

Dobrynya was taken with her wiles, and loosed her at will, and returned to his home, to his mother, to the banquet-hall, where he sat himself down upon the four-square bench.

But the wily Dragon raised herself upon her wings over royal Kief town, caught up Beauty, niece to Prince Vladimir, and bore her off to a cavern in the hills.

At that time Royal Vladimir made an honorable feast for many princes, nobles, bold warrior-maidens, mighty heroes, and wandering good youths. And Dobrynya prayed his mother's leave and blessing to go to that honorable feast.

"Nay," she made answer: "abide thou in thine own dwelling, Dobrynya, with thy mother; drink green wine until thou art full drunken, and lavish golden treasure at thy will. But go not to this feast." But when her son would have gone in any case, she gave both leave and blessing, and Dobrynya arrayed himself as was meet.

On his little feet he put shoes of green morocco, with lofty heels and pointed toes. About their sharp beaks, an egg might roll, under the heel might sparrows fly. His garments were of flowered stuff's, his mantle of black sables from beyond the sea.

He saddled his good steed, and rode forth to the spacious court. When he was come thither he bound his steed in the centre, to the ring of gold in the carven pillar, and entered the banquet-hall. There he crossed his eyes as it is written, he did reverence as prescribed, to two, to three, to four sides, and to the Prince and Princess in particular. Then they led him to the great place of honor at the oaken board, with its savory viands and honeyed drinks, and poured him a cup of green wine, a second of beer, a third of sweet mead: — the measure of that cup was a bucket and a half, and the weight thereof, a pood and a half. This Dobrynya took in one hand, and drained at one draught.

Royal Vladimir, as he paced the banquet-hall, stroking his curls, looked on the heroes, and spoke this word: "Ai, ye stout and mighty heroes! I will lay upon you a great service. Ye must go to the Túgy mountains, to the fierce Dragon that hath carried off our royal niece, Beauty the Fair."

Then the great hid behind the lesser, and they, in turn, behind the small, and from the least in rank, no answer came. From the middle table spoke Semyón, lord of Karamychetzka: "Little father! Vladimir of royal Kief! But yesterday in the open plain, I beheld Dobrynya beside the Púchai river in conflict with that Dragon. And the Dragon beguiled him, — calling him her elder brother, herself his younger sister. Send Dobrynya, therefore, to the Túgy mountains, for the Princess Beauty."

So Vladimir laid his commands on Dobrynya, and Dobrynya mourned and was sad. He sprang to his nimble feet, in his place within the granite palace, and stamped upon the oaken floor. The tables rocked, the liquor quivered in the glasses, and the heroes were thrown from their seats with the shock. Dobrynya rushed forth into the courtyard, loosed his good steed from the golden ring, mounted and rode to his own dwelling. When he had spread fine Turkish wheat before the horse, in the midst of his own courtyard, he entered his mother's dwelling, sat on the wall-bench, and hung his turbulent head.

"Why art thou sad, Dobrynya?" his mother inquired of him. "Was thy seat at meat not to thy liking, or unbefitting thy rank? Did the cup pass thee by? Did some drunken boor spit in thine eye, or did the fair damsels scoff" at thee? "

"Mine was the place of honor at meat," Dobrynya answered, "the greatest place, not the least; no fool offended, no damsel scoffed. But Prince Vladimir hath laid upon me a great service. I must go to the Túgy mountains, and free his niece from the fierce Dragon of the Cave."

"Grieve not, Dobrynya," spoke his mother, the honorable widow, Afímya Alexandrevna. "Lie down to sleep early this evening; to-morrow will be wise, for the morning is wiser than the evening." Her son heeded her; and the next morning, rising early, he washed himself very white, and arrayed himself for the journey.

"Be not sad," spoke his mother: "thy father went to the glorious Túgy mountains and slew an accursed serpent, and now thou must needs go thither likewise. Take not thy swift, stout bow, nor thy war-club, thy far-reaching spear, nor yet thy sharp sword. I will give thee a little whip of the seven silks, which thou must brandish; and I will give thee a magic kerchief. Thy right hand will droop, the light will fade from thine eyes, and the Dragon will begin to drag thee away, and to hurl thee down, and the little dragons to bite thy horse's fetlocks as he trampleth on them. But take thy magic kerchief, lift it to thy white face and wipe thy clear eyes, and thou shalt be stronger than before. — Then draw this whip, braided of the seven silks, from thy pocket, and beat thy good steed between the ears and on his hind legs. With that thy brown will begin to prance, and will shake off the Dragon's brood from his feet, and crush them to the last one. And brandish this silken whip; so shalt thou bend the Dragon to earth and subdue it like a Christian beast; and thou shalt sever its twelve tails, and give it over to speedy death."

So Dobrynya mounted his good steed, and rode to the Túgy mountains and the Dragon's cavern. Twelve days he rode, and ate nothing but a wheaten roll. On the thirteenth day he came to the glorious hills, but the Dragon was not in her cave, and the Prince's royal niece he could not see. Then he began to trample on the little dragons, and they coiled about his horse's fetlocks so that the good brown could no longer leap. He drew from his pocket the little whip of the silks of Samarcand, and beat the good steed between the ears and on his hind legs; the good brown began to prance thereat, shook off all the dragon brood, and crushed them to the very last.

Dobrynya gazed out over the open plain, and lo! the accursed serpent came flying towards him. When she espied him, she let fall from her claws upon the damp earth, the soft, thick grass, the dead body of a hero, and flew straight at Dobrynya.

"Ai, little Dobrynya Nikitich! Why hast thou broken thine oath, and crushed all my little dragons?"

"And ai, thou accursed Dragon!" quoth Dobrynya, "what devils bore thee over Kief, that thou shouldest seize young Beauty Putyátichna? Yield her now without battle or bloodshed."

"Without battle and bloodshed I will not yield the Prince's niece."

So they waged mighty battle all that day. until the evening; and the snake began greatly to prevail. Yet Dobrynya, recalling his mother's counsel, wiped his clear eyes and his white face upon the kerchief, and his strength was greater than before. The next day they contended until the evening, and again the third day, so that Dobrynya would have fled before the serpent. But a voice from heaven warned him that if he would fight yet three hours longer, he should overcome the beast.

He fought on, but might not endure the Dragon's blood, so great was the flood thereof. Then he would have left the Dragon, but the voice spoke yet again from heaven: "Tarry yet three hours by the serpent, Dobrynya. Take thy far-reaching spear, smite upon the damp earth, and conjure thy spear: ' Yawn, damp mother earth, in all four quarters, yawn! Suck up the Dragon's blood! '"

When he had done this, and had fought the three hours, he overcame the beast. Recalling his mother's behest, he drew forth his whip of the silks of Samarcand, hewed ofi"the twelve tails, cut the sinuous body into small pieces, and strewed them over the open plain.

After that, he entered the Dragon's deep den, and released the Russian prisoners, — Tzars, Kings and Princes by forties, and of lesser folk many thousands, — and bade them go where they would. But young Beauty, the Princess, he could not find, until he came to the farthest den. There she lay chained with hands outstretched. He released her straight, and led her forth to the white world. Then, he mounted his good steed, and setting Beauty upon his right hip, rode out over the plain.

Said Beauty: "For thy great service I would fain now call thee little father, but that I may not do; for thy great deed, I would call thee my own brother, yet now I may not; gladly would I call thee friend and lover, but that thou lovest me not, Dobrynushka."

To her Dobrynya made answer: "Ai, Beauty Putyátichna! Thou art of princely birth, and I am but of peasant stock: it is not possible for thee to call me friend and lover."

As they thus rode over the plain, they came upon the traces of a horse, great clods of earth cast up, so that one might sink in the hollows, even to the knee. Dobrynya followed and found Alyósha Popóvich in the way.

"Ho there, Alyósha Popóvich!" cried he; "take the Princess Beauty, and bear her in honor to Vladimir, our Fair Sun Prince in royal Kief, and thy head shall answer to me for her." And this Alyósha performed.

When he had thus sent away Beauty, Dobrynya followed again after the tracks, and came upon a hero in the open plain, riding, in woman's garb, upon a fair and goodly horse.

"Eh!" quoth Dobrynya; "this is no hero, but a bold damsel-errant, some maid or wife, forsooth!" Therewith he rode after the warrior-maiden, and smote her upon her turbulent head with his mace of damascened steel. But the warlike virgin sat her good steed firmly, wavering not nor glancing back. — Dobrynya sat his good steed in terror, and departed from that bold polyánitza: "Plainly," quoth he, "Dobrynya's valor is as of yore, but his strength is not the strength of other days."

Now there stood near by in the plain, a damp oak, six fathoms in girth. This Dobrynya smote with his mace, and shivered into atoms; and he marvelled greatly.

"Of a truth," he said, "Dobrynya's might is as of old, but his courage is not the courage of earlier days!"

Then he again rode in pursuit of the bold warrior-maid, and smote her honorably upon her tempestuous head. — She wavered not, glanced not behind. But Dobrynya was sore amazed, and tested his might upon a damp oak of twelve fathoms, — and shivered it in splinters. Thereupon, Dobrynya waxed wroth, as he sat his good steed, and rode after the bold virgin-warrior a third time, and smote her with his mace.

Thereat she turned and spoke: "Methought the Russian gnats were biting, but lo! 'tis the Russian hero tapping!"

Then she seized Dobrynya by his yellow curls, twisted him from his good horse, and dropped him into her deep leather pouch, and rode her way over the open plain.

At length her good steed spoke: "Ai, thou young Nastásya, Mikúla's daughter, thou bold warrior-maid! Two heroes I cannot carry. In might that knight is thine equal, and the courage of that knight is as twice thine." '

Quoth young Nastásya Mikúlichna: "If the hero be very aged, I will cut off his head; if he be young and well pleasing in my sight, I will call him friend and lover; if he please me not, I will set him on one of my palms, and press him with the other, and make a pancake of him."

Then she drew him forth from the leather pouch, and liked him well. "Hall, dearest Dobrynya Nikitich!" quoth she.

"How knowest thou me, bold virgin knight? for thee I know not."

"I have been in Kief town, and have seen thee, Dobrynushka; but thou couldst by no means know me. I am daughter to the Polish King, young Nastásya Mikúlichna, and I roam the open plain, seeking an adversary. If thou wilt take me for thy wife, Dobrynya, I will grant thee thy life. And thou must take a great oath; if thou swear it not, I will make of thee an oat-cake."

"Leave me but my life, young Nastásya, and I will take that great oath, and I will take also the golden crown with thee."

So they took the oath, and set out for Kief town, to courteous Prince Vladimir. Dobrynya's mother came to meet them, inquiring: "Whom hast thou there, Dobrynya Nikitich?"

"Ah, Afímya Alexandrevna, thou honorable widow my mother! I bring my enemy, young Nastásya Mikúlichna; I am to take the golden crown with her."

Then they went to Prince Vladimir, and entered his banquet-hall, where Dobrynya did reverence to all, and in especial, to the Prince and Princess.

Hail, Fair Sun Vladimir of royal Kief! "

"Hail, Dobrynya Nikitich! Whom hast thou there?"

Thereupon Dobrynya told him all; Nastásya was received into the Christian faith, and they took the golden crowns. Courteous Vladimir made them a great feast for three days; and thereafter they lived happily for a space.