Quiet Dunai Ivanovich

Quiet Dúnai Ivanovich roamed long from land to land, and in his wanderings, came at length to the kingdom of Lithuania. Three years did Dúnai serve the King of that land as Equerry, three years as Grand Steward, three as Lord High Seneschal, and yet three more as Groom of the Chambers.

The King loved the youth and gave him meet guerdon; and the young Princess Nastásya favored him and kept him in her heart.

On a certain day, the King made a great feast and banquet; and the Princess, would have kept the youth from it. "Go not to this worshipful feast, Dúnai," she said. "There will be much eating and drunkenness, and thou wilt boast of me, the fair maid. And so shalt thou lose thy head, Dúnai."

But Dúnai heeded not her warning and went to the feast. When all were well drunken, and the feast waxed merry, they began to brag. And Dúnai spoke much, boasting of his many wanderings, of the King's favor and rewards, and of how the young Princess Nastásya kept him ever in her heart.

The King liked not this brag, and cried in a loud voice: "Ho there, ye pitiless headsmen! Seize this quiet Dúnai by the white hands, by his golden ring; lead him into the open plain, and cut off his turbulent head."

Then Dúnai besought his keepers to lead him past Nastásya's dwelling, and before he was come to it, he cried softly:

"Sleepest thou, Nastásya? Wakest thou not? Lo, they are leading Dúnai to the open plain." And when he was over against her window he shouted at the top of his voice:

"Sleepest thou, Nastásya? Wakest thou not? Dúnai goeth to his death. Forgive!"

With that great shout the palace quaked; Princess Nastásya woke, and ran forth into the spacious court of the palace, in a loose robe without a girdle, and cried in piercing tones:

"Ho there, ye pitiless headsmen! Take treasure as much as ye will, and release Dúnai in the open plain. Then go seek in the royal pot-house an accursed Tatar, some vie wretch whom ye may render drunk with wine. Cut off his turbulent head, and bear it to the King in place of Dúnai's."

The headsmen hearkened to the Princess's words, released Dúnai, and bore the drunkard's head to the King of Lithuania.

But Dúnai traversed the open plain and came to Kief town. There he entered the royal pot-house, and drank away his hat from Grecian land, all his flowered garments, his shoes of morocco, and all that he had.

And as Dúnai sat thus over his horns of liquor, it chanced on a day, that courteous Prince Vladimir made a great and honorable feast, to many princes, boyárs (nobles) and mighty Russian heroes, where they sat eating bread and salt, carving the white swan, and quaffing sweet mead, and green wine.

The long day drew towards its close, the red sun sank to even, and all was merry at the feast when the guests began their brags. One vaunted his good steed and one his youthful prowess, this knight his sharp sword and that his deeds of might; the wise man praised his aged father or mother, the foolish his young wife or sister.

Then through the banquet hall paced Fair Sun Prince Vladimir, wrung his white hands and shook his yellow curls. No golden trumpet pealed, nor silver pipe trilled sweet, but Prince Vladimir spoke: "Boast not, brothers; glory not in your prowess nor in good steeds nor golden treasure. Have not I also red gold, pure silver, fair round pearls? But in this may ye glory: AU at my feast are wedded, save one, your Prince. I only am unwed. Know ye not of some Princess, who is my equal? Lofty of stature must she be, of perfect form, her gait delicate and graceful, like the peacock; a faint flush in her face like to a white hare, and eyes of the clear falcon must she have, yellow hair, brows of blackest sable, and swan-speech entrancing. So shall I have one with whom I may think my thoughts, and take counsel, and ye my mighty princes, heroes and all Kief one to whom ye may pay homage."

Then all at meat fell sad and silent, and none spoke a word. The great fled behind the lesser, the lesser hid behind the small, and from the small came no reply.

At length there stepped forth from behind the oven, a bold, brave youth, Dobrynya Nikitich, saying:

"Our liege. Prince Vladimir! grant me to speak a word without speedy death or distant exile, and chastise me not therefor."

"Speak, then, Dobrynya Nikitich," said Vladimir, "God will forgive thee."

Then spoke Dobrynya, and wavered not: "I know a fitting mate for thee, a princess, and all thou hast described is she — a beauty such as exists not elsewhere in all the white world. I have not seen her, but her fame I have heard from my brother in arms, my cross - brother, mighty Dúnai Ivanovich. He sitteth now in the great royal pot-house over his horns, and hath not the wherewithal to come to thy honorable feast."

Then spoke Vladimir: "Take my golden keys, open my iron bound chests, take treasure as thou requirest, and go, Dobrynya, to the royal pot-house, ransom Dúnai's raiment, and conduct Dúnai to our honorable feast."

So Dobrynya took gold, and went to the pot-house. "Ho there, ye innkeepers and usurers!" he cried, "take what ye will, and restore Dúnai's garments."

When this was done, Dobrynya told Dúnai how he was bidden to Vladimir's feast; and Dúnai made answer: "Lo! with drunkenness and hunger my turbulent head is broken."

So they poured him a cup of green wine, in weight a pood and a half. This Dúnai grasped in one hand and drained at one draught. Then the good youths set out; and as they passed through Kief, maids and wives thrust heads and shoulders from the windows crying: "Whence come such fair youths as these?"

When they came to the palace of white stone, to the fair banquet hall, Dúnai crossed himself as prescribed, did reverence as enjoined, on two, three, and four sides, to all the Russian heroes and to Prince Vladimir in particular. And they gave Dúnai a seat at the oaken board, in the great corner, the place of honor.

As he feasted, Fair Sun Vladimir began to inquire of Dúnai, and poured out green wine into a great cup of crystal from the East, set in a rim of gilt, and brought it to quiet Dúnai. The measure of that cup was a bucket and a half, and its weight a pood and a half. Quiet Dúnai took the cup in one hand, and quaffed it at a breath. Then Fair Sun Vladimir poured an aurochs' horn of sweet mead, a pood and a half, and after that a measure of the beer of drunkenness. These also quiet Dúnai drained at one draught, and intoxication showed itself in his head. Nevertheless he stepped forward without staggering, and spoke without confusion:

"I know a bride fit to mate with thee, royal Vladimir. Twelve full years I served in yonder land of Lithuania, and the King's Majesty hath two great and fair daughters. The eldest, Princess Nastásya, is no mate for thee; she rideth ever over the open plain seeking adventures. But the younger, the Princess Apráxia, sitteth at home in a fair chamber embroidering a kerchief in red gold. Behind thrice nine locks she sitteth, and thrice nine guards, in a lofty castle, that the fair red sun may not scorch her nor the fine and frequent rains drop on her, nor the stormy winds breathe on her; — that she may be seen of few."

"Ai, my Russian heroes!" spoke Prince Vladimir then: "Whom shall we send to far-off Lithuania?"

And a hero made answer: "Fair Sun Vladimir! we have not been in strange and distant countries, nor seen strange people. It is not meet that we should go. Send quiet Dúnai Ivanovich; he hath served as ambassador, and viewed many lands. He talketh much; therefore send him to do thy wooing."

Then spake Prince Vladimir: "Go thou, my Dúnaiushka, to that brave Lithuanian realm, and woo the Princess Apráxia for me with fair words."

"Lord," said Dúnai, "it is not meet for a youth to go alone."

"Take then a host of forty thousand, and treasure, as much as thou requirest: and if the King give not his daughter willingly, then fetch her by force."

"I need no host to wage battle, nor golden treasure to barter," quoth Dúnai. "I will essay heroic force and royal threat. Grant me but my beloved comrade, Dobrynya Nikitich, — he is of good birth, and understandeth how to deal with people. And give us two good colts which have never borne saddle or bridle. And write thou a scroll, that our wooing of the Princess Apráxia for our Prince Vladimir is honorable."

All these things Fair Sun Vladimir did. Then Dúnai and Dobrynya went forth from the palace, and saddled their steeds; put on them plaited bridles of parti-colored silks, and silken saddlecloths, and upon these, felts, and then the saddles, their small Cherkéssian saddles, and secured them with twelve girths with silver buckles, — the stirrup buckles were of gold. Then they arrayed and armed themselves; put on their little caps from the Sorochinsky land, forty poods in weight, took their maces of damascened steel, their stout bows, their silken whips, mounted their good steeds and rode through the narrow lanes of Kief. And the good steeds galloped at will.

But when they reached. the highway out of Kief, they urged their good steeds on, spurring their brisk flanks, and smiting them with their braided whips of silk. Past deep lakes they rode, through forests dreaming still in primeval denseness; and so came to the brave land of Lithuania, and to the royal palace.

There quiet Dúnai asked no leave of gate-keepers nor porters, but flung wide the barriers and led the horses into the spacious court, bidding Dobrynya stand there and guard them. So Dobrynya took the bridles in his left hand, and in his right, his little elm-wood club from Sorochinsky.

"Stand thou here, Dobrynya," spake quiet Dúnai then, "and look towards the royal audience hall; when I shout, then will be the time to come."

Then quiet Dúnai entered the royal hall where sat the King, crossing himself and saluting as prescribed by custom.

"Hail, little father. King of brave Lithuania!"

"Hail, little Dúnai Ivanovich! Whither leadeth thy path? Art thou come to show thyself or to view us? Twelve years thou didst serve us faithfully; art thou now come to fight against us, or to serve us as of yore? — Yet eat thy fill, fair youth, and drink as good seemeth to thee." Then the King seated him at the great table in the place of honor, giving him sweet viands and mead, and began again to inquire his errand.

"My errand is good," Dúnai made answer. "I come to woo thy daughter Apráxia for the Fair Sun, Prince Vladimir." Then he laid the scroll on the oaken table.

The King looking upon it, tore the black curls from his head, and cast them on the brick floor, as he spoke in wrath:

"Stupid in sooth is Vladimir of Royal Kief, in that he sent not as wooer a wealthy peasant, a good lord or a mighty hero! But he must needs send me some noble's serf! Ho there, my trusty servants! Take this Dúnai by his white hands, seize him by his golden ring, by his yellow curls; lead him to the deep dungeons for his discourteous speech. Shut him in with oaken planks, with iron gratings, and above sprinkle orange-tawny sand. Let his food be water and oats alone, until he shall bethink himself and gain his senses."

Quiet Dúnai hung his turbulent head, and dropped his clear eyes to the floor; then raised his small white hand and smote the table with his fist. The fair liquors all were spilled, the dishes rolled away, the tables fell together, and the railed balconies of the palace sat awry. The Tatars all were terrified, the King fled to his lofty tower, and covered himself with his cloak of marten skins.

Then quiet Dúnai leaped over the golden chair (for he perceived that the matter was not a light one), seized one Tatar by his heels, and began to slay the rest.

"This Tatar is tough," he cried; "he will not break; the Tatar is wiry, he will not tear."

Dobrynya at that shout, began to lay about him, and slew five hundred Tatars with his own right hand.

Then the King's trusty servants fled to him from his princely court: "Ai, little father, King of brave Lithuania! Thou knowest not the evil that is come upon thee. Into thy royal court no falcon clear hath flown, no raven black hath fluttered, but a bold and goodly youth hath ridden. In his left hand he graspeth the silken bridles of two good steeds, in his right he holdeth a club of elmwood filled with lead. Wheresoever he waveth that club, the Tatars fall before it. He hath slain them all, to the last man, and none is left to continue the race!"

Then the King of Lithuania cried: "Ai, quiet little Dúnai Ivanovich! Forget not my hospitality of yore! Sit thou at one table with me, and let us consider this wooing of Prince Vladimir. Take my elder daughter."

"I will not," said quiet Dúnai, and ceased not to slay.

"Take then the Princess Apráxia, if thou wilt!" said the King when he saw that.

Then quiet Dúnai went to the lofty castle, and began to knock ofi"the locks and to force open the doors. He entered the golden-roofed tower, and came to where the most fair Princess Apráxia was pacing her chamber, clad in a thin robe without a girdle, her ruddy locks unbound, and no shoes upon her feet.

"Ai, Princess Apráxia! wilt thou wed with Prince Vladimir?" said Dúnai.

And she made answer: "These three years I have prayed the Lord that Prince Vladimir might be my husband."

Then quiet Dúnai Ivanovich took her by her small white hands, by her golden ring, and kissed her sugar lips for that sweet speech, and led her forth to the spacious court.

There the King met them, and said: "Take also the Princess's dowry." So thirty carts were laden with red gold, pure silver, and round pearls and jewels.

Then they mounted their good steeds, and rode over the glorious, far-reaching, open plain.

Dark night overtook them on the road. So the good youths pitched a linen pavilion, and lay down to sleep. They placed their good steeds at their feet, their sharp spears at their heads; at their right hands lay their stout swords, at their left their daggers of steel.

The good youths slept and slumbered, enjoying the dark night. Nothing saw they, and nothing did they hear, not even the Tatar riding across the plain.

They rose while it was still very early, and set out upon their way. And the Tatar rode in pursuit, his steed all covered with the mire of the way.

Then Dúnai was aware of the knight in the way, and sent Dobrynya on to Kief town in Holy Russia, with the fair Princess Apráxia, but remained himself in the open plain to meet that stout, bold adversary.

When the Tatar perceived that he was pursued in turn, and that Dúnai had overtaken him, he began to smite Dúnai with his spear, and to say to himself: "Halt, Tatar, on the open plain; roar, Tatar, like a wild beast; whistle, Tatar, Like a serpent!"

So the Tatar roared and whistled; — the pebbles were scattered over the plain, the grass withered, the flowerets drooped, and Dúnai fell from his good steed. But quickly sprang Dúnai to his nimble feet, and fought the Tatar knight, with mace, far-reaching spear and sharp sword, until all were broken or dulled, and he had overcome his adversary. Then he drew his dagger, and would have pierced him to the heart.

"Tell me now, accursed Tatar," cried Dúnai, "and conceal it not; What is thy birth and tribe?"

"Sat I on thy white breast," quoth the Tatar, "I would inquire neither tribe nor family, but would stab thee."

Then Dúnai sat upon his foe's white breast, and would have pierced it, but his tender heart was terrified, and his arm stiffened at the shoulder: for the bosom was that of a woman.

"How now, fair Dúnai! knowest thou me not?

Yet we trod one path, sat in one bower, drank from one cup! And thou didst dwell with us twelve full years. — But loud-voiced men have come from Holy Russia, while I was from home, and have stolen away my sister. And her I seek."

"Ai, Princess Nastásya!" cried quiet Dúnai, and raised her from the damp earth by her white hands, and kissed her sugar mouth. "Let us go to Kief town, and receive the wonder-working cross, and take the golden crowns."

So he placed her upon his good steed, took from her her mace of steel and her sharp sword, and mounting, led her horse behind them.

Thus they came to Kief town, to God's church: and in the outer porch, they met Fair Sun Prince Vladimir and the Princess Apráxia who were come thither to be married. The sisters greeted each other, and Nastásya received baptism. Then they were married, the younger sister first, as was meet, and the elder afterwards. And great was the marriage feast which courteous Prince Vladimir made for himself and for quiet Dúnai Ivanovich.

— Three years they lived in mirth and joy: and in the fourth year, courteous Prince Vladimir made again a great and honorable feast. When all had well drunken, they began to make brags. Dúnai Ivanóvich bragged also. "In all Kief town," quoth he, "is no such youth as quiet Dúnai. — From the Lithuanian land he drew forth two white swans; he married himself, and gave another also in marriage."

Princess Nastásya answered him: "Is not thy boast empty, Dúnaiushka? Not long have I dwelt in this town, yet much have I learned. Fair is Churilo Plenkóvich, daring Alyósha Popóvich, and courteous young Dobrynya Nikitich;" and so she praised the different heroes, yet spake no word of praise for Dúnai, who had praised himself.

"Neither in deeds of knightly exercise are the heroes lacking," quoth the Princess, "and even I can shoot somewhat. Let us now take a stout bow, and let us set a sharp dagger in the open plain, a full verst away, and before it, a silver ring. Let us shoot through the silver ring at the sharp dagger in such wise that the arrow may fall into two equal parts against the dagger, into two parts alike to the eye and of equal weight."

Quiet Dúnai was both ashamed and wroth at this, and said: "Good, Nastasiushka! let us go to the plain, and shoot our fiery darts."

So they went forth. Nastásya sent a burning arrow; it passed through the ring, and falling upon the sharp blade, was parted in twain; and both the parts were exactly equal.

Then Dúnaiushka shot; the first arrow he sent too far, the second fell short, the third flew wide of the mark and was never found again.

Quiet Dúnai waxed very wroth thereat, and aimed a burning arrow smeared with serpent's fat at Nastásya's white breast. Then she besought him:

"Ai, fair Dúnai Ivanovich! forgive my foolish woman's words. Better will it be for thee to punish me. Let this be thy first reprimand: take thy silken whip, dip it in burning pitch, and chastise my body. And for the second reprimand: bind me by my woman's hair to thy stirrups, and send thy horse at speed over the wide plain. — Bury me to the breast in the damp earth, — beat me with oaken rods, — torture me with hunger, — feed me with oats, and so keep me three full months. — But grant me only to bear thy son, and leave a posterity behind me in the world. For such a child there is not in all the town. His little legs are silver to the knee, his arms to the elbow are of pure gold; upon his brow gloweth the fair red sun, upon his crown shine countless stars, and at the back of his head the bright moon beameth."

Dúnai heeded not her speech, but sent his burning arrow into her white breast, and took out her heart with his dagger. And his son was as she had said.

Then Dúnai's heroic heart burned within him for grief and remorse. "Where the white swan fell," he cried, "there also shall fall the falcon bright." Then he placed the hilt of his dagger on the damp earth, and fell upon its sharp point with his white breast. And from that spot flowed forth straightway two swift streams; the greater was the river Don, the lesser the Dniepr, Nastásya's river. Nastásya's river flowed to the Kingdom of Lithuania, and thence to the Golden Horde. The Don, twenty fathoms deep and forty wide, ran past Kief town. Where they met, two cypress trees sprang up, and twined together, and on their leaves was written: "This marvel came to pass for the wonder of all young people, and the solace of the old."

Thus the Song of quiet Dúnai forever shall be sung, for the peace of the blue sea and the hearing of all good people.