The One and Forty Pilgrims

On the open plain many great and mighty heroes assembled, forty bogatyrs and one; and the one was young Kasyán Mikáilovich, their ataman.

They halted in a green meadow, dismounted from their good steeds, and sat down in a circle to hold counsel together; and began to tell exploits.

They told whither one bold and goodly youth had journeyed, how a certain other had been in many lands and hordes, which one had slain the accursed Tatars, and which the infidels forever accursed.

When young Kasyán Mikáilovich heard the discourse of these mighty heroes, he addressed them thus: "Greatly have ye sinned against God, ye mighty warriors! For many turbulent heads have ye slain without avail, and have shed hot blood. Are ye therefore agreed to what I shall propose? Better is it for us now, to disperse our great host, and go to Jerusalem city to pray God in the holy sanctuary, to kiss the grave of the Lord, and to bathe in Jordan river, that our sins may be forgiven. But it behooveth us to lay upon ourselves a great vow, ye mighty heroes! — not to rob nor steal, not to yield to woman's charms, nor stain our knightly hands with blood.

"And if any shall offend against this vow, then shall his nimble feet be hewn off at the knee, his white hands at the elbow; his clear eyes shall be plucked from his brow, and his tongue torn out with pincers; and he shall be buried to the breast in damp mother earth."

This in no wise terrified the heroes, and they all agreed thereto. Then they loosed their good steeds upon the silken grass, to roam the open plain, and donned palmer's weeds. Over their heroic shoulders they threw their beggar's pouches of black cut velvet, embroidered in red gold, and strewn with fair seed-pearls. On their heads they set caps from the Grecian land, and in their white hands they took staves of precious fishes' teeth. Their raiment was like the poppy in hue, and each bore in his hand a precious antaventa stone. By day they journeyed by the fair sun's light; by night these stones and the jewels woven into their foot-gear of the seven silks, lighted them on their way.

In this wise wandered the good youths from horde to horde, and so drew near to glorious Kief town. In the open plain they met the Fair Sun Prince Vladimir, hunting the white swan, geese, and small gray migratory ducks, foxes and hares, martens and sables black.

When Prince Vladimir drew near, the pilgrims shouted in piercing tones: "Vladimir, Prince of Royal Kief! give alms to the wandering psalm-singers. We will not take a ruble, nor yet a ruble and a half; but whole thousands must thou give, yea, forty thousand well told!"

Then Prince Vladimir lighted down from his good steed, and greeted them, beseeching them to sing him the spiritual song of Elóna, for he was fain to hear it from them.

So the pilgrims thrust their staves into the damp earth, and hung their pouches thereon, and standing in a circle, as is the custom with wandering psalm-singers, they sang the psalm of Elena in a half voice.

— Mother earth trembled, the water in the lakes suited, the gloomy forests shook, and on the mountains the damp oaks bowed. Vladimir could neither stand nor sit nor lie. "Enough of this psalm of Elóna, good youths!" he cried. So the wandering psalm-singers took their velvet pouches, and made ready to pursue their journey.

Said Prince Vladimir then: "I have with me neither bread nor salt nor golden treasure. But go ye to Kief, to my Princess Apráxia; she will give you food and drink and lodging. Go, therefore, to my princely palace, and say that the Fair Sun Prince Vladimir sent ye from the open plain."

So they journeyed a day, and yet another day, and came to glorious Kief town: there they sought the spacious courtyard of the palace, and besought alms for Christ's sake. At their piercing cry, the domes tumbled from the lofty castles, the crowns from the trees; mother earth quaked, and the liquors in the cellars grew thick.

The Princess Apráxia heard that great shout, and thrust herself out of the lattice window to her waist, quivering exceedingly with terror. Then she sent the stewards and cupbearers to greet young Kasyán,n Mikáilovich and his companions, and bid them enter.

When the pilgrims mounted the fair porch, step bent to step, and the new ante-chamber sagged beneath their tread. They crossed themselves as enjoined, prayed to the Saviour's picture, did reverence as prescribed to three sides and to four, and in particular to the Princess Apráxia.

The Princess bade them welcome, and commanded fair cloths to be laid on the oaken tables with all speed, sugar viands to be brought, and honeyed drinks. Then all sat down to meat: the pilgrims, the Princess Apráxia, with her nurses and duennas, and her fair handmaidens. Young Kasyán Mikáilovich sat in the great place of honor, and from his youthful countenance as from the fair red sun, rays streamed. The stewards and cupbearers hastened to and fro, bearing fair meats and drinks.

They feasted long, even until the fair sun sank in the west. Then the pilgrims were led to chambers where they might repose; but the Princess Apráxia herself led young Kasyán to a fair chamber apart, where stood a couch of smooth boards with bed of down, heavy cushions, and a coverlet of rich black sables.

And when all were asleep in the palace, save young Kasyán who was praying God, the Princess Apráxia came to him, and told him of her love.

But young Kasyán recounted to her the great vow which he had taken, and bade her tempt him not, but go thence.

Nevertheless she came again, and yet the third time; then the good youth seized his stout cudgel and brandished it, and bade her begone, or he would smite her until she fell upon the brick floor. At that she was troubled, and went thence; but when Kasyán had fallen into a deep sleep, the Princess crept down from the glazed oven, took his pouch of rich velvet, ripped it open and placed therein the silver bratlna, from which the Prince was wont to drink, on his return from the field; then she sewed up the velvet again so that it might not be perceived.

The next morning very early, the one and forty pilgrims arose, washed themselves very white, put on their shoes, and prayed to God. The Princess commanded the oaken tables to be served; and when the pilgrims had eaten and drunk their fill, they prayed God for the Fair Sun Prince Vladimir, returned thanks to the Princess Apráxia, swung their heroic pouches on their heroic shoulders, bowing low, and set out for Jerusalem.

A little space after their departure. Fair Sun Vladimir came from the open plain, and sat down to eat and drink. Then the cupbearers began to search for the royal bratlna, through all the palace, and Vladimir said:

"Which of you hath taken the royal cup?"

The Princess Apráxia made answer in their stead: "Ai, Fair Sun Prince Vladimir! there came hither from the open plain, sent by thee, forty psalm-singers and one. Is it not they, perchance, who have carried off the royal cup? For they lodged here one night, and are but lately departed hence. They have taken thy royal cup!"

Then Prince Vladimir gave command in haste, that his mighty heroes should ride after the pilgrims. But Ilyá of Múrom warned him:

"Ai, Fair Sun Vladimir! these be no wandering psalm-singers, but one and forty heroes bold, and whom have we to send against them?"

"Let us send bold Alyósha Popóvich," quoth Vladimir. So Alyósha was despatched, and bidden to speak them fair.

But Alyósha was not courteous by nature, and when he came up with them, and beheld them sitting, eating bread and refreshing themselves, he cried:

"Ho there! ye are not wandering psalm-singers, but forty thieves and robbers! Yield now peaceably the royal cup which ye have stolen!"

Then sprang young Kasyán Mikáilovich to his nimble feet, grasped his travelling cudgel, and flourished it widely.

"Did we go to Kief town for your royal bratina?" quoth he. "Nay, but I will give thee the cup."

Alyósha beheld with great terror that there was nothing to be done, and, wheeling his good steed about in haste, returned again to Kief. To Prince Vladimir he said that the brigands had set upon him when he asked for the royal cup, and had nearly unhorsed him, so that he had escaped with difficulty.

Again spoke the Old Cossack: "Heed not that daring fool Alyósha, Prince Vladimir! for I know well how he addressed them. There is none for us to send but Dobrynya Nikitich: lo! he knoweth how to petition with courtesy."

So Dobrynya gat to horse, and when he came upon the forty and one sitting on the open plain, eating and refreshing themselves, he cried:

"Hail, ye forty pilgrims and one! I beseech your hospitality."

"Come hither, good youth," they answered, "sit with us, eat our bread and salt."

"Ai, ye pilgrims," quoth Dobrynya: "how shall I tell you, good youths? There is a great tumult amongst us of Kief. — For the royal cup of gold is lost; without it, the Prince will not taste his mead. I pray you, therefore, good youths, search your pouches, lest it may have strayed into them through error."

Then each looked upon the other, and knew not what to do. Said young Kasyán Mikáilovich:

"Dear comrades, pious pilgrims! open your pouches, and show them to this youth."

All the pilgrims rose to their nimble feet, took their pouches, and showed to young Dobrynya: but the royal cup was not in them. Last of all, young Kasyán Mikáilovich opened his pouch, and lo! the princely cup was there. Then all were exceeding wroth, and in great amaze, and said:

"What shall we do with thee now, young Kasyán Mikáilovich? lo, it was thyself who didst impose that great vow."

"Beloved comrades," young Kasyán made answer, "I did not steal the royal cup: this thing hath the Princess Apráxia contrived because I would not yield to her. Nevertheless, do ye now the thing commanded, and break not your solemn vows."

Then they all wept and began to take leave of him; and though it was very grievous to them, they fulfilled their vow. They hewed off his nimble feet to the knee, his white arms to the elbow, plucked his clear eyes from his brow and his tongue from his mouth, and buried him to the breast in damp mother earth. Then they bade him farewell, as a dead man, and betook themselves to Jerusalem.

Young Dobrynya Nikitich looked on at all their deed, then rode thence with all speed, bearing the royal cup, and came to Kief town, to Prince Vladimir's spacious court, gave the cup to the Fair Sun, and related the marvel he had seen; and how they had not stolen the royal cup, which was found upon them by mistake. But he told not what the Princess Apráxia had done. From that hour the Princess Apráxia fell ill with grief, and lay on the great dung-heap. But Prince Vladimir and many of his heroes made ready to go and view that great marvel.

But before them came Mikóla of Mozhaisk to young Kasyán Mikáilovich, and restored his nimble feet, his white hands, his clear eyes, and his tongue:

he put breath also into Kasyán's white breast, set him on his nimble feet, and spake this word: "Go thy way, young Kasyán Mikáilovich! thou shalt find thy friends at their first halting-place. The Lord hath sent me to thee, good youth, because thou wert wrongfully slain, not having stolen the royal cup. Go now to Jerusalem, pray God in the sanctuary, kiss the Lord's grave, bathe in Jordan river. And when thou art come again to this our land, build a cathedral church to Mikóla of Mozhaisk; for I am he."

Then the hoary-headed old man vanished. Young Kasyán went his way, and overtook his companions late at night. He found them eating bread, and marvelling that they had executed him. But when they beheld him fairer than before, with his long curls hanging to his waist, and knew that the Lord and none other had been his help, they rejoiced with great joy.

When Prince Vladimir and his heroes came to the spot where Kasyán had been slain, and found the deep pit wherein he had been sunk to the breast, but found him not, they were in great amaze, and returned to Kief town.

After the forty pilgrim-heroes and one had made their pilgrimage to Jerusalem, they returned again to where they had left their good steeds roaming, and rode to Kief town, to Fair Sun Vladimir's spacious court, where they asked alms in Christ's name, that they might have the wherewithal to dine.

Prince Vladimir heeded their mighty shout which shook the palace, and bade them enter, and eat his bread. But they answered:

"Nay, we will not enter thy palace, for the Princess Apráxia is there, and she will again lay the royal cup in our young Kasyán Mikáilovich's pouch."

So they told Vladimir what the Princess had done when they had lodged there, and how the good youth whom they had slain, had nevertheless accompanied them to Jerusalem. Then Prince Vladimir sent his stewards and cupbearers to make obeisance to them and entreat them to enter.

When they obeyed, Prince Vladimir saluted young Kasyán courteously, and Kasyán inquked how it fared with the Princess Apráxia; — if she were well. Thereto Vladimir made reluctant answer, "Let us not go to her for a week or two." Young Kasyán heeded not his speech, but went straightway with the Prince to her chamber; and as they went the Prince held his nose, but Kasyán cared not for the odor. They opened the doors of the fair chamber, and flung wide the little lattice casements. The Princess prayed to be forgiven; thereupon young Kasyán breathed upon her with his holy breath, laid his holy hand upon her and pardoned her, and she was solaced; for she had suffered much, lying in shame a full half year.

Then young Kasyán returned with Prince Vladimir to the banquet-hall, prayed before the Saviour's picture, and sat down with his comrades at the richly adorned tables. They ate and drank and refreshed themselves; and when they would have pursued their journey, courteous Prince Vladimir besought them urgently to abide yet, a day with him.

Young Princess Apráxia also came forth from her retreat, arrayed herself with speed, and adorned herself, and came to the table with her nurses, ladies in waiting and fair handmaidens. Young Kasyán she saluted without shame or confusion, though her sin lay in her mind, and Kasyán waved his small right hand over the sugar viands, hedging them about with the sign of the cross, and a blessing.

When all had feasted their fill, they saddled their good steeds, and having taken leave of courteous Prince Vladimir and of each other, they rode each to his own country.

And none of these forty heroes and one ever again roamed the open plain seeking adventures, nor stained their white hands with blood.

When young Kasyán Mikáilovich came to his own land, he raised a cathedral church to Mikóla of Mozhaisk, and began to pray constantly to God, and to repent of his sins.