Fairy tales and epics about Ilya. Russian bogatyrs

The Tale of Three Russian Heroes

Prowess

It was a long time ago... Once the three strongest and strongest boys gathered in a damp field. We decided to go on a wild ride. One of them was Alyosha, the priest’s son. The other is Ilya, a peasant son, from the glorious village of Morovsk. And the third is Dobrynya, Nikitin’s son.

Soon, attacks by formidable foreign invaders were expected on Rus'. So the young people wanted to first measure their strength, and only then join the battle.

They measured themselves for a long time and dressed up. Trees were uprooted from the Earth and they amused themselves with fist fights. Finally, they took out bows and arrows from their quivers, pulled the bowstrings, and were just about to let them fly away, when suddenly, suddenly, an old grandfather stood in front of them. Gray hair is scattered over the shoulders. On the chest the shirt is spacious, barely covering the shriveled body.
- You should go away, father! - Alyoshka, the priest’s son, turned to the old man, “Otherwise, we can kill him.”

The old man grinned. He ran his thin palm over his beard, as if shaking off crumbs, and said:
- You guys, I see, have decided to measure your strength? That's not bad. But in military affairs you cannot earn money by the power of truth alone. There's more something necessary.
- What?! – the boys exclaimed in one voice.
- Why, I won’t tell you. But if you want to find out and are not afraid, then launch your arrows right now, as far as possible. And whoever flies where, go there. You will find out everything for yourself there.

The strongmen rejoiced. They pulled their bows tight, and how they launched the arrows. Only the whistle can be heard across the fields and ravines.
Alyosha's arrow fell in a dense forest. Ilya's arrow flew onto a high snowy mountain. And at Dobrynya’s she found herself at the very bottom of the endless sea-ocean.

And they scattered, each in his own direction. And the old man disappeared like never before.

Alyosha, priest's son

Alyosha galloped to the edge of the dense forest. Dismounted. He tied the horse to a tree and entered under the arch of pitch-black spreading oaks. It was quiet in the forest. So that neither bird nor beast makes a rustle.

Suddenly Alyosha sees something flickering among the trees. I took a closer look and there was no sign of his arrow. He came closer. I was not mistaken. The tip went deep into the hollow. Alyosha grabbed the shank and flew into the hollow. It was as if an unknown force was pulling him.

He fell to the ground. Looked up. He fell from a considerable height. It’s dark inside the tree, even if you gouge out your eyes. Only far, far above there is a flickering light.

Suddenly Alyosha hears someone nesting nearby. But no matter how hard I tried, my eyes never adjusted to the darkness. He asks menacingly, instilling fear in the invisible:
- Who are you? Show yourself, it won't get any worse!
The invisible one groaned and groaned:
- Don’t be angry, good fellow. You didn't come here for nothing. Something wanted to find it?
“Well,” Alyosha softened. - Maybe he did. What, do you have this?
“But of course,” the invisible one groaned again. - Extend your little hand and look carefully. You can't save it until you get home.

Alyosha extended his pound palm, and at the same moment felt the touch of something soft and fluffy. Alive. Just as he was about to open his mouth in amazement, he saw that he was no longer in the hollow, but on the edge of the forest. In front of him, his zealous horse tramples, impatiently beating its hooves. And in the palm of your hand is a barely fledged chick. Puny. He looks so pitiful.

Alyosha untied his horse and climbed onto it. But with a chick you can’t accelerate at full speed. And you can’t put it in your pocket, it’s painfully fragile. So Alyosha trudged back, no faster than the girl with the yoke.

Ilya, peasant son

Ilya galloped to the mountain under heaven. Dismounted. He tied up his horse and walked up the steep path. Whether for a long time or for a short time, he saw the shank of his arrow sticking out in the middle of a white snowdrift. He came up, just wanted to grab hold of it. Something cracked and the snow underneath broke through. Ilya flew into a deep hole. In the very heart of the mountain.

Flopped. He immediately jumped to his feet and began to look around. There is darkness all around, even if you gouge out your eyes. Suddenly he hears someone rustling nearby. Ilya clenched his fists, thinking he was a bear, and prepared for a fight. Suddenly a thin voice, just like a child’s, says to him:
- Don’t ruin me, good fellow!
- Who are you? – asks Ilya.
- I'm someone. Why did you come to my mountain?
“For the arrow,” answers Ilya.
- Why did you shoot the arrow here?
- So I something wanted to find.
“Well, that’s possible,” a voice squeaked, “extend your palm.”

Ilya offered his bear paw. Something hard and warm touched my hand.
- Take this pebble, and look, when it’s cold, it can crumble into dust, and when it’s hot, it can turn into flammable slurry.

Ilya wanted to ask in more detail, but he just looked, he was already standing at the foot of the mountain, in front of him his dear horse was shifting from foot to foot, and a black pebble was resting in his hand.

Ilya put the pebble in his pocket, untied his horse and galloped back.
And not an hour passes, he feels his pocket burning with fire. He stopped and looked, and the stone was glowing like a firebrand. Ilya waited until it cooled down. He put it on his palm and continued on his way. And I didn’t go ten steps, and lo and behold, the stone would crumble. Frozen, therefore.
Nothing to do. The good fellow had to put it on one palm and cover it with the other on top. But not tightly, so that it is neither hot nor cold. So, will you go far? So he trudged along like an ox harnessed, unable to accelerate, unable to stand still.

Dobrynya, Nikitin's son

Dobrynya galloped to the shore of the endless sea-ocean. Dismounted. He tied the horse by a stone and swam to the very middle, where the abyss turns black under the water. It floats and floats, and suddenly it sees something flickering in the very depths. It looks like an arrow. He took a deep breath and plunged headlong into the water.

And when he swam to the very bottom, he looked - and indeed, here it was, a familiar, military arrow. He grabbed the shank. As soon as I pulled, everything was covered in a dark haze, seethed, and swirled around the water. Nothing to be seen. And in this excitement, Dobrynya hears a gentle female voice:
- Dear man, why did you come to visit me? Are you tired of walking on the damp Earth?
Dobrynya answers, “I’m not tired.” But my arrow, my battle friend, landed in your abode. And without an arrow, a young man is like a bird without wings.
- Well, why did you shoot the arrow? - the girl does not calm down.
- Yes, I need to find something. Necessary in military affairs.
- Why didn’t you say so right away? – she laughed. - Look, he’s already turned blue!

You'll soon be completely suffocated. Take it. Just watch and take care. My gift is too fragile.

No matter how hard Dobrynya tried to see the face of the one who spoke in such a velvety voice, he could not.

As soon as I felt something slippery and airy in my hand, I immediately found myself on the shore. And the horse is nearby, breathing joyfully into your face. And in the palm of your hand, the bubble shimmers with all the colors of the rainbow. And in that bubble there is sea water.
Somehow Dobrynya got on his horse and rode home. Fearing that the precious gift would burst, which threatened to break into pieces with every breath of wind.

Wisdom

By nightfall, friends gathered in the very place from which they had scattered in different directions. They were so tired that they had never been tired in their lives. Not from fist fights, not from uprooting trees, not from revelry. And the old man is already waiting for them:
- Well, good fellows, have you found something important in military affairs? Did they starve the horses in vain?
The heroes showed their gifts. They just stand there batting their eyes and glancing at each other. Alyosha - with a chick in a pound palm. Ilya - with a stone, and Dobrynya - with a bubble.
- Really, you still don’t understand? – the old man was surprised.

The fellows shook their heads.
- Well, then listen carefully, and you’ll start shaking your head later when you’re mature. To defend the Russian Land from enemies, it is not enough to have remarkable strength and wave your fists indiscriminately. Enemies, they are also strong, and tough, and smart. This is how it has been since time immemorial - our Russian heroes used good for evil. The civilians were not harmed. If the court judges this way, then nature itself will come to the rescue. Here you are Alyosha, you brought the chick. Even though it wasn't easy for you. And he, God’s creature, is dumb. Yes, and I would hurt myself, so what? Look how many of them, unfeathered, are dying. But no, he reported, he didn’t lose heart.
And you, Ilya, is it necessary to store a simple stone more than gold and silver? This is all because the earth contains great power. And the one who manages to save even a handful of raw earth will walk on this earth without fear and draw his strength from it.

Publications in the Traditions section

“Good people to obey”

More than 30 heroes are mentioned in Russian epics. Among them were heroes with ancient mythological roots, such as Svyatogor and Volkh Vseslavyevich, and visiting guests - for example, Duke Stepanovich and Churilo Plenkovich. There were even female warriors who were called Polenitsa: Vasilisa Mikulishna, Nastasya Mikulishna, Nastasya the Queen and others. They were considered equal to male heroes, and sometimes even superior to them. But most of all the people loved the epics about Ilya Muromets, Dobrynya Nikitich and Alyosha Popovich. Scientists have identified from 53 to 100 plots of the Russian heroic epic, about 26 of which are associated with the exploits of the legendary trinity. "Kultura.RF" tells about the history of the most famous Russian heroes.

Rostovsky Popovich

Georgy Yudin. Alyosha Popovich and Tugarin. Illustration for the epic. Year unknown

Boris Olshansky. Alyosha Popovich and Elena Krasa. 1996. Museum of Slavic Painting

Andrey Ryabushkin. Alesha Popovich. Illustration for the book “Russian epic heroes”. 1895

Alyosha Popovich was portrayed as the youngest of the heroes. The epics said that he was the son of a cathedral priest from Rostov (now a city in the Yaroslavl region). In different texts, two Rostov saints were called Alyosha's father - St. Leonty, whose relics are in the Rostov Assumption Cathedral, or Theodore, the first bishop of Rostov.

Despite his religious upbringing, Alyosha grew up as a joker and joker, and his courage always bordered on insolence. In some epics he was portrayed as a “woman’s mockingbird,” and in later texts he became a completely negative character. For example, it was sometimes told how Alyosha lied about Dobrynya’s death and deceived him into trying to marry his wife Nastasya. Dobrynya found out about this in time and managed to stop the wedding at the last moment. In the 20th century, research proved that Alyosha was not initially opposed to other heroes, but was the embodiment of truly popular qualities - passion, ingenuity and humor.

In the epic “Alyosha Popovich and Tugarin Zmeevich,” the hero saw his enemy, Tugarin, at the princely feast. Prince Vladimir the Red Sun greeted him as a dear guest, and Princess Eupraxia, in front of her husband, showed Tugarin unambiguous signs of attention. Alyosha began to mock this behavior, asking for a fight, and defeated Tugarin by cunning. Different versions describe how Popovich pretended to be hard of hearing so that Tugarin would get closer, or tricked his opponent into turning away, or struck while hiding behind the horse's mane. Alyosha jokingly offered Tugarin’s head to the prince as a dish:

You are here, Vladimir Stolnokievskaya!
If you don’t have a beer boiler now, -
Yes, Tugarin’s head is wild;
If you don't have big beer bowls, -
Well, those Tugarinovs are clear;
If you don't have big dishes, -
Well, those Tugarinovs are big blows.

It is believed that the image of the hero Alyosha goes back to the real Rostov warrior Alexander Popovich, who died in 1223 in a battle with the Mongol-Tatars on the Kalka River. Academician Dmitry Likhachev attributed the first mention of Alexander Popovich in the chronicle to 1423, that is, 200 years after the hero’s supposed death. Likhachev established that it was not the hero who ended up in the epics from the chronicle, but, on the contrary, the chronicle recorded the character from the epic as a historical person. This was a conscious step of the chroniclers in the era of the formation of a centralized Russian state.

Folklorist Vladimir Propp believed that the image of Alyosha Popovich could have appeared soon after the baptism of Rus', because at that time the clergy were not yet perceived as a privileged class far from the common people. In a later era, the son of a priest could not have become in the eyes of the people a daring daredevil, mocking those in power, and remembering even his own priest father in jokes.

The same period - the 11th century - is indirectly indicated by the name of Alyosha's rival, Tugarin Zmeevich. At that time, the Polovtsian Khan Tugarkan fought with Russia, and his daughter became the wife of the Kyiv prince Svyatopolk Izyaslavich. In the 11th–12th centuries, princes often entered into agreements with the Polovtsians and acted with them against other Russian principalities. The people condemned friendship with the enemy for the sake of fratricidal wars, and it was precisely this “friendship” that Alyosha put an end to by killing Tugarin.

Ryazan prince

Georgy Yudin. Dobrynya Nikitich's campaign against the fierce serpent. Illustration for the epic. Year unknown

Andrey Ryabushkin Dobrynya Nikitich. Illustration for the book “Russian epic heroes”. 1895

Georgy Yudin. Dobrynya Nikitich and the Tatar hero-fighter. Illustration for the epic. Year unknown

According to epics, Dobrynya was born in Ryazan at a time when Ryazan was “reputed as a village.” Many researchers believe that this hero was of a princely family. His father Nikita Romanovich was a “prince without an inheritance”; he died at the age of 60, leaving a young wife and an infant son. Mother Amelfa Timofeevna gave Dobrynya a good education. In the sciences, he kept up faster than his peers; at the age of 12 (in some versions - 15) years, he mastered the wisdom of war. Vladimir Propp wrote:

“He is a wonderful singer and plays the harp. He plays chess in such a way that he confidently beats the Tatar Khan, an invincible expert in this game. In the person of Dobrynya, the people embodied those qualities that they collectively designated with the word “knowledge.” The concept of “courtesy” also includes knowledge of external forms of politeness and culture in the way people treat each other. Dobrynya always knows how to enter the room, how to close the door behind her, knows how and who should be greeted, who should bow “in particular.” He knows how to behave at the table; Dobrynya masters the art of not only writing, but intelligent speech and conversation.”

The people who created such a hero clearly recognized themselves as a highly cultural nation. Kievan Rus experienced a cultural flourishing in the 11th–12th centuries; in Novgorod of the 11th–14th centuries, almost the entire population, including women, was literate. At this time in Western Europe, not even all monarchs could boast of the ability to write and read.

If we calculate the date of birth of the hero based on the founding date of Ryazan, then it will lead us to the 11th century: in the chronicle Old Ryazan was first mentioned in 1096, but historians believe that the settlement appeared 30–35 years earlier. But there was also a real Dobrynya in history.

He lived in the 10th century and was the uncle of Prince Vladimir I Svyatoslavich. Voivode Dobrynya accompanied his nephew when he went to reign in Novgorod in 970. In 978, Vladimir organized the murder of his older brother Yaropolk and took the Kiev throne, and, according to historians, Dobrynya was behind this act. He convinced Vladimir to marry Yaropolk’s fiancée, the Polotsk princess Rogneda. The same matchmaker for the epic prince Vladimir the Red Sun was the hero Dobrynya. The epic Dobrynya defeated the Serpent with the help of the “cap of the Greek land” - a Byzantine monastic headdress. Ethnographer Vsevolod Miller saw in this a parallel with the baptism of Rus': the real governor Dobrynya participated in the forced baptism of Novgorod.

In the 13th century, the “Saga of Thidrek of Berne” was written down in Norway, and at the same time the heroic poem “Ortnid” appeared in southern Germany. These monuments of the German epic mention a Russian prince, a military leader named Ilias König von Riuzen - Ilias, the Russian King. This is probably how, in the minds of Europeans, the figures of two heroes - Dobrynya Nikitich and Ilya Muromets - merged into one.

Murom peasant

Georgy Yudin. Illness and healing of Ilya Muromets. Illustration for the epic. Year unknown

Andrey Ryabushkin. Ilya Muromets. Illustration for the book “Russian epic heroes”. 1895

Georgy Yudin. Three trips of Ilya Muromets. Illustration for the epic. Year unknown

Ilya Muromets, “son Ivanovich,” is a peasant, flesh and blood of his people. 18 different subjects are dedicated to him, this is a record for a Russian epic.

Yes, there is only one sun in the sky,
There is only one hero in holy Rus',
One Ilya and Ilya Muromets!

The epic biography of Ilya is quite detailed. He was born in the village of Karacharovo near Murom, until the age of 30 he could not use his arms or legs, and was paralyzed. One day, when the whole family was working in the field, and Ilya was lying on the stove, passers-by knocked on the house. The wanderers asked for a glass of water, Ilya replied that he could not bring water. The Kaliki began to persuade him to get up, and a miracle happened: Ilya walked. When he brought the Kalikas water, they offered him a drink, after which the hero gained unprecedented strength. The healed hero hurried to the aid of relatives who were uprooting trees. Seeing how Ilya easily uprooted oak trees, his parents realized that his calling was not peasant labor, but the defense of the Fatherland.

The image of Ilya, according to researchers, became the pinnacle of the Russian epic. It was formed later than the images of Alyosha and Dobrynya. Ilya is a mature warrior, gray-haired, patient, holding himself with dignity. The researcher of epics Alexander Hilferding described his strength as “modest, alien to any affectation and boasting, but demanding respect.”

One of the central stories about the exploits of Ilya Muromets is his victory over the filthy Idolishch. The hero made his way to Kyiv captured by the enemy in the clothes of a wanderer and began to beg under the windows of the palace. The idol, who forbade asking in the name of Christ, immediately ordered the unknown to be brought in and began to question him about the famous hero: Georgy Yudin. Ilya Muromets and Nightingale the Robber. Illustration for the epic. Year unknown

The image of the Idol clearly reflected the features of the Mongol-Tatar conquerors of the 13th–15th centuries, and the army that surrounded Kyiv merged in the minds of the people with the Tatar invaders. This confirms the hypothesis about the later formation of the image of Ilya in the Russian epic, although the name of the hero itself could have been known already in the 12th century.

In some epics, Muromets was called Muravlenin. This gave rise to the assumption that the birthplace of the hero could be Moroviysk (now Morovsk) near Chernigov.

Traditionally, the epic Ilya is correlated with the Venerable Elijah of Pechersk, a monk of the Kiev Pechersk Lavra. Before taking monastic vows, he became famous as a warrior nicknamed Chobotok, that is, Boot: legend says that Ilya once fought off an enemy with a boot. He died in 1188 and was canonized in 1643. His relics are still kept in the caves of the Lavra.

In 1988, a commission of the Ukrainian SSR Ministry of Health conducted an examination of the relics. She showed that during his lifetime Ilya Pechersky was an exceptionally strong man, about 177 centimeters tall, and by the standards of the Middle Ages was considered quite tall. He showed signs of a spinal disease, and scientists named the cause of death as a wound inflicted by a sharp weapon in the chest. At the time of his death, the warrior was 40–55 years old. In the Kiev-Pechersk Patericon - a collection about the early history of the monastery - there is no life of this saint. This indirectly confirms that Elijah spent a short time in monasticism. It is assumed that he took monastic vows after receiving a mortal wound in battle.

Folklorist Vladimir Propp wrote: “The stern and mighty Ilya, the self-possessed and cultured Dobrynya, the cheerful and resourceful Alyosha express the heroic traits of the Russian people. The people depicted themselves in them. For all their differences, they are united by one feeling, one desire: they do not know a higher service than serving their homeland; they are always ready to give their lives for it.”.

Nikita Kozhemyaka

A serpent appeared near Kyiv, he took considerable extortions from the people: from each yard a red wench; he will take the girl and eat her.

It was the turn of the king’s daughter to go to that snake. The snake grabbed the princess and dragged her to his den, but did not eat her: she was a beauty, so he took her as his wife.

The snake will fly off to its business, and will cover the princess with logs so that she won’t leave. That princess had a dog, and she followed her from home. Sometimes the princess would write a note to her father and mother and tie it around the dog’s neck; and she will run where she needs to, and she will also bring an answer.

So one day the king and queen write to the princess: find out who is stronger than the snake?

The princess became friendlier to her snake and began to ask him who was stronger. He didn’t speak for a long time, and once he blurted out that Kozhemyaka lives in the city of Kyiv - he is stronger than him.

The princess heard about this and wrote to the priest: find Nikita Kozhemyaka in the city of Kyiv and send him to rescue me from captivity.

The king, having received such news, found Nikita Kozhemyaka and went to ask him to free his land from the fierce serpent and help out the princess.

At that time Nikita was crumpling leather; he held twelve leathers in his hands; when he saw that the king himself had come to him, he trembled with fear, his hands shook - and he tore those twelve skins. No matter how much the king and queen begged Kozhemyaku, he did not go against the snake.

So they came up with the idea of collecting five thousand young children, and forced them to ask for Kozhemyaka; Maybe he’ll take pity on their tears!

The minors came to Nikita and began to ask with tears that he should go against the snake. Nikita Kozhemyaka himself shed tears as he looked at their tears. He took three hundred pounds of hemp, coated it with resin, and wrapped himself all around so that the snake wouldn’t eat it, and went at him.

Nikita approaches the snake’s den, but the snake has locked itself and does not come out to him.

“You better go out into the open field, otherwise I’ll mark out the den!” - said Kozhemyaka and began to break down the doors.

The snake, seeing the inevitable trouble, came out to him in an open field.

Nikita Kozhemyaka fought with the snake for a long time or for a short time, only to knock the snake down. Then the snake began to pray to Nikita:

- Don’t beat me to death, Nikita Kozhemyaka! There is no one stronger than you and me in the world; We will divide the whole earth, the whole world equally: you will live in one half, and I in the other.

“Okay,” said Kozhemyaka, “we need to draw a boundary.”

Nikita made a plow of three hundred pounds, harnessed a snake to it, and began plowing the boundary from Kyiv; Nikita drew a furrow from Kyiv to the Austrian Sea.

“Well,” says the snake, “now we have divided the whole earth!”

“They divided the land,” said Nikita, “let’s divide the sea, otherwise you will say that they are taking your water.”

The serpent rode into the middle of the sea. Nikita Kozhemyak killed and drowned him in the sea. This groove is still visible; That furrow is two fathoms high. They plow it all around, but don’t touch the furrows; and whoever does not know what this furrow is from calls it a shaft.

Nikita Kozhemyaka, having done the holy deed, did not take anything for the work, and went back to crushing the skins.

How Ilya from Murom became a hero

In ancient times, the peasant Ivan Timofeevich lived near the city of Murom, in the village of Karacharovo, with his wife Efrosinya Yakovlevna.

They had one son, Ilya.

His father and mother loved him, but they only cried, looking at him: for thirty years Ilya had been lying on the stove, not moving his arm or leg. And the hero Ilya is tall, and bright in mind, and sharp-eyed, but his legs do not move, as if they were lying on logs, they do not move.

Lying on the stove, Ilya hears his mother crying, his father sighing, the Russian people complaining: enemies are attacking Rus', fields are being trampled, people are being killed, children are being orphaned. Robbers prowl along the roads, they do not allow people either passage or passage. The Serpent Gorynych flies into Rus' and drags the girls into his lair.

Gorky Ilya, hearing about all this, complains about his fate:

- Oh, my weak legs, oh, my weak hands! If I were healthy, I would not give my native Rus' offense to enemies and robbers!

So the days went by, the months rolled by...

One day, father and mother went into the forest to uproot stumps, pull out roots, and prepare the field for plowing. And Ilya lies alone on the stove, looking out the window.

Suddenly he sees three beggar wanderers approaching his hut. They stood at the gate, knocked with an iron ring and said:

- Get up, Ilya, open the gate.

- Evil jokes, you wanderers, joke: I’ve been sitting on the stove for thirty years, I can’t get up.

- Stand up, Ilyushenka.

Ilya rushed and jumped off the stove, stood on the floor and couldn’t believe his luck.

- Come on, take a walk, Ilya.

Ilya stepped once, stepped again - his legs held him tightly, his legs carried him easily.

Ilya was overjoyed; he couldn’t say a word with joy. And the Kaliki passers-by say to him:

- Bring me some cold water, Ilyusha. Ilya brought a bucket of cold water.

The wanderer poured water into the ladle.

- Drink, Ilya. This bucket contains the water of all the rivers, all the lakes of Mother Rus'.

Ilya drank and sensed heroic strength within himself. And the Kaliki ask him:

— Do you sense a lot of strength in yourself?

- A lot, wanderers. If only I had a shovel, I could plow all the land.

- Drink, Ilya, the rest. In that remnant of the whole earth there is dew, from green meadows, from high forests, from grain fields. Drink.

Ilya drank the rest.

- Do you have a lot of strength in you now?

“Oh, you walking Kaliki, I have so much strength that if there were a ring in the sky, I would grab onto it and turn the whole earth over.”

“You have too much strength, you need to reduce it, otherwise the earth won’t carry you.” Bring some more water.

Ilya walked through the water, but the earth really couldn’t carry him: his foot was stuck in the ground, in the swamp, he grabbed an oak tree - the oak tree was uprooted, the chain from the well, like a thread, tore into pieces.

Ilya steps quietly, and the floorboards break under him. Ilya speaks in a whisper, and the doors are ripped off their hinges.

Ilya brought water, and the wanderers poured another ladle.

- Drink, Ilya!

Ilya drank well water.

- How much power do you have now?

“I’m half strong.”

- Well, that will be yours, well done. You, Ilya, will be a great hero, fight and fight with the enemies of your native land, with robbers and monsters. Protect widows, orphans, little children. Just never, Ilya, argue with Svyatogor, the land carries him through force. Don't quarrel with Mikula Selyaninovich, mother earth loves him. Don’t go against Volga Vseslavyevich yet, he won’t take him by force, but by cunning and wisdom. And now goodbye, Ilya.

Ilya bowed to the passers-by, and they left for the outskirts.

And Ilya took an ax and went to his father and mother to reap the harvest. He sees that a small place has been cleared of stumps and roots, and the father and mother, tired from hard work, are sleeping soundly: the people are old, and the work is hard.

Ilya began to clear the forest - only chips flew. Old oaks are felled with one blow, young oaks are torn from the ground by their roots.

In three hours he cleared as much field as the entire village could not clear in three days.

He destroyed a great field, lowered the trees into a deep river, stuck an ax into an oak stump, grabbed a shovel and a rake and dug up and leveled the wide field - just know, sow it with grain!

Father and mother woke up, were surprised, rejoiced, and remembered the old wanderers with kind words.

And Ilya went to look for a horse.

He went outside the outskirts and saw a man leading a red, shaggy, mangy foal. The entire price of the foal is a penny, and the man demands exorbitant money for him: fifty rubles and a half.

Ilya bought a foal, brought it home, put it in the stable, fattened it with white wheat, fed it with spring water, cleaned it, groomed it, and added fresh straw.

Three months later, Ilya Burushka began to take Burushka out to the meadows at dawn. The foal rolled around in the dawn dew and became a heroic horse.

Ilya led him to a high tyn. The horse began to play, dance, turn its head, shake its mane. He began to jump over the tine back and forth. He jumped over ten times and didn’t hit me with his hoof! Ilya laid a heroic hand on Burushka - the horse did not stagger, did not move.

“Good horse,” says Ilya. - He will be my faithful comrade.

Ilya began looking for his sword in his hand. As soon as he clenches the hilt of a sword in his fist, the hilt will break and crumble. There is no sword in Ilya's hand. Ilya threw the swords to the women to pinch the splinters. He himself went to the forge, forged three arrows for himself, each arrow weighing a whole pound. He made himself a tight bow, took a long spear and also a damask club.

Ilya got ready and went to his father and mother:

- Let me go, father and mother, to the capital Kyiv-grad to Prince Vladimir. I will serve Rus' with my native faith and truth, and protect the Russian land from enemy enemies.

Old Ivan Timofeevich says:

“I bless you for good deeds, but I don’t bless you for bad deeds.” Defend our Russian land not for gold, not for self-interest, but for honor, for heroic glory. Don’t shed human blood in vain, don’t shed mothers’ tears, and don’t forget that you come from a black, peasant family.

Ilya bowed to his father and mother to the damp ground and went to saddle Burushka-Kosmatushka. He put felt on the horse, and on the felt - sweatshirts, and then a Cherkassy saddle with twelve silk girths, and an iron girth on the thirteenth, not for beauty, but for strength.

Ilya wanted to try his strength.

He drove up to the Oka River, rested his shoulder on a high mountain that was on the shore, and dumped it into the Oka River. The mountain blocked the riverbed and the river began to flow in a new way.

Ilya took a crust of rye bread, dropped it into the Oka River, and he himself said to the Oka River:

- And thank you, Mother Oka River, for giving water and feeding Ilya Muromets.

At parting, he took a small handful of his native land with him, sat on his horse, waved his whip...

People saw Ilya jump on his horse, but they didn’t see where he rode.

Only dust rose across the field in a column.

Alyosha Popovich and Tugarin Zmeevich

In the glorious city of Rostov, the Rostov cathedral priest had one and only son. His name was Alyosha, nicknamed Popovich after his father.

Alyosha Popovich did not learn to read and write, did not sit down to read books, but learned from an early age to wield a spear, shoot a bow, and tame heroic horses. Alyosha is not a great hero in strength, but he prevailed with audacity and cunning. Alyosha Popovich grew up to sixteen years old, and he became bored in his father’s house.

He began to ask his father to let him go into an open field, into a wide expanse, to travel freely throughout Rus', to reach the blue sea, to hunt in the forests. His father let him go and gave him a heroic horse, a saber, a sharp spear and a bow with arrows. Alyosha began to saddle his horse and began to say:

- Serve me faithfully, heroic horse. Do not leave me either dead or wounded to be torn to pieces by gray wolves, to black crows to be pecked, or to enemies to be mocked! Wherever we are, bring us home!

He dressed his horse like a prince. The saddle is from Cherkassy, the girth is silk, the bridle is gilded.

Alyosha called his beloved friend Ekim Ivanovich with him and on Saturday morning he left home to seek heroic glory for himself.

Here are faithful friends riding shoulder to shoulder, stirrup to stirrup, looking around.

No one is visible in the steppe: no hero with whom to measure strength, no beast to hunt. The Russian steppe stretches out under the sun without end, without edge, and you can’t hear a rustle in it, you can’t see a bird in the sky. Suddenly Alyosha sees a stone lying on the mound, and something is written on the stone. Alyosha says to Ekim Ivanovich:

- Come on, Ekimushka, read what is written on the stone. You are well-literate, but I am not trained to read and write and cannot read.

Ekim jumped off his horse and began to make out the inscription on the stone.

- Here, Alyoshenka, is what is written on the stone: the right road leads to Chernigov, the left road leads to Kyiv, to Prince Vladimir, and the straight road leads to the blue sea, to quiet backwaters.

- Where should we go, Ekim?

“It’s a long way to go to the blue sea; there’s no need to go to Chernigov: there are good kalachniks there.” Eat one roll and you’ll want another, eat another and you’ll collapse on the feather bed, you won’t be able to find it, we’ll have heroic glory there. We’ll go to Prince Vladimir, maybe he’ll take us into his squad.

- Well, then, Ekim, let’s take the left path.

The fellows wrapped up their horses and rode along the road to

They reached the bank of the Safat River and set up a white tent. Alyosha jumped off his horse, entered the tent, lay down on the green grass and fell into a deep sleep. And Ekim unsaddled the horses, watered them, walked them, hobbled them and let them go into the meadows, only then did he go to rest.

Alyosha woke up in the morning, washed his face with dew, dried himself with a white towel, and began combing his curls.

And Ekim jumped up, went after the horses, watered them, fed them oats, saddled both his and Alyosha’s.

Once again the fellows hit the road.

They drive and drive, and suddenly they see an old man walking in the middle of the steppe. A beggar wanderer is a wanderer. He is wearing bast shoes woven from seven silks, he is wearing a sable fur coat, a Greek hat, and in his hands is a traveling club.

He saw the fellows and blocked their path:

- Oh, you brave fellows, you don’t go beyond the Safat River. The evil enemy Tugarin, the son of the Snake, encamped there. He is as tall as a tall oak tree, between his shoulders is an oblique fathom, you can put an arrow between your eyes. His winged horse is like a fierce beast: flames are blazing from his nostrils, smoke is pouring out of his ears. Don't go there, well done!

Ekimushka glances at Alyosha, and Alyosha became incensed and angry:

- So that I give way to all evil spirits! I can’t take him by force, I’ll take him by cunning. My brother, road wanderer, give me your dress for a while, take my heroic armor, help me cope with Tugarin.

- Okay, take it, and make sure there is no trouble: he can swallow you in one gulp.

- It’s okay, we’ll manage somehow!

Alyosha put on a colored dress and went on foot to the Safat River. He walks, leans on his baton, limps...

Tugarin Zmeevich saw him, screamed so that the earth trembled, tall oaks bent, water splashed out of the river, Alyosha was barely standing alive, his legs were giving way.

“Hey,” shouts Tugarin, “hey, wanderer, have you seen Alyosha Popovich?” I would like to find him, stab him with a spear, and burn him with fire.

And Alyosha pulled his Greek hat over his face, grunted, groaned and answered in an old man’s voice:

- Oh-oh-oh, don’t be angry with me, Tugarin Zmeevich! I'm deaf from old age, I can't hear anything you order me. Come closer to me, to the wretched one.

Tugarin rode up to Alyosha, leaned down from the saddle, wanted to bark in his ear, and Alyosha was dexterous and evasive, as if a baton would hit him between the eyes, Tugarin fell unconscious to the ground. Alyosha took off his expensive dress, embroidered with gems, not a cheap dress, costing a hundred thousand, and put it on himself.

He strapped Tugarin himself to the saddle and rode back to his friends. And there Ekim Ivanovich is not himself, he is eager to help Alyosha, but it is impossible to interfere in the hero’s business, to interfere with Alyosha’s glory. Suddenly he sees Ekim - a horse is galloping like a fierce beast, Tugarin is sitting on it in an expensive dress.

Ekim got angry and threw his thirty-pound club straight into Alyosha Popovich’s chest. Alyosha fell down dead.

And Ekim pulled out the dagger, rushed to the fallen man, wants to finish off Tugarin... And suddenly he sees: Alyosha is lying in front of him...

Ekim Ivanovich fell to the ground and burst into tears:

“I killed, I killed my named brother, dear Alyosha Popovich!”

They began to shake and rock Alyosha with a calico, poured foreign drink into his mouth, and rubbed him with medicinal herbs. Alyosha opened his eyes, got to his feet, stood and wobbled.

Ekim Ivanovich is not himself with joy. He took off Tugarin's dress from Alyosha, dressed him in heroic armor, and gave the Kalika his goods. He put Alyosha on his horse and walked alongside him: he supported Alyosha.

Only in Kyiv itself did Alyosha come into force.

They arrived in Kyiv on Sunday, around lunchtime. We drove into the prince's courtyard, jumped off our horses, tied them to oak posts and entered the upper room.

Prince Vladimir greets them kindly.

- Hello, dear guests, where did you come to see me from? What is your name, what is your patronymic?

— I am from the city of Rostov, the son of the cathedral priest Leonty. And my name is Alyosha Popovich. We drove through the pure steppe, met Tugarin Zmeevich, he is now hanging in my toroki.

Prince Vladimir was delighted:

- What a hero you are, Alyoshenka! Sit where you want at the table: if you want, next to me, if you want, opposite me, if you want, next to the princess.

Alyosha Popovich did not hesitate; he sat down next to the princess. And Ekim Ivanovich stood by the stove.

Prince Vladimir shouted to the servants:

- Untie Tugarin Zmeevich, bring him here to the room!

As soon as Alyosha took hold of the bread and salt, the doors of the upper room opened, twelve grooms were brought in on Tugarin’s golden plaque, and they sat him down next to Prince Vladimir.

The steward came running, brought fried geese, swans, and brought ladles of sweet honey.

But Tugarin behaves discourteously, impolitely. He grabbed the swan and ate it with the bones, stuffing it whole into his cheek. He grabbed the rich pies and threw them into his mouth; for one breath he pours ten ladles of honey down his throat.

Before the guests had time to take a piece, there were only bones on the table.

Alyosha Popovich frowned and said:

“My father priest Leonty had an old and greedy dog. She grabbed a large bone and choked. I grabbed her by the tail and threw her down the hill - the same will happen to Tugarin from me.

Tugarin darkened like an autumn night, pulled out a sharp dagger and threw it at Alyosha Popovich.

The end would have come for Alyosha, but Ekim Ivanovich jumped up and intercepted the dagger in flight.

- My brother, Alyosha Popovich, will you throw the knife at him yourself or will you allow me?

“And I won’t leave you, and I won’t allow you: it’s discourteous to start a quarrel with a prince in the upper room.” And I’ll talk to him tomorrow in an open field, and Tugarin won’t be alive tomorrow evening.

The guests became noisy, began to argue, began to take a bet, they bet everything on Tugarin - ships, goods, and money.

Only Princess Apraksin and Ekim Ivanovich are considered for Alyosha.

Alyosha got up from the table and went with Ekim to his tent on the Safat River.

Alyosha does not sleep all night, looks at the sky, calls on a thundercloud to wet Tugarin’s wings with rain. Early in the morning Tugarin arrived, hovering over the tent, wanting to strike from above. It was not for nothing that Alyosha did not sleep: a thunder cloud flew in, rained down, and wetted Tugarin’s horse’s mighty wings. The horse rushed to the ground and galloped along the ground.

Alyosha sits firmly in the saddle, waving a sharp saber.

Tugarin roared so loudly that leaves fell from the trees:

“This is the end for you, Alyoshka: if I want, I’ll burn with fire, if I want, I’ll trample on my horse, if I want, I’ll stab with a spear!”

Alyosha drove up closer to him and said:

- Why are you, Tugarin, deceiving?! You and I bet that we would measure our strength one on one, but now you have an untold strength behind you!

Tugarin looked back, wanted to see what power was behind him, and that’s all Alyosha needed. He swung his sharp saber and cut off his head!

The head rolled to the ground like a beer cauldron, and Mother Earth began to hum!

Alyosha jumped off and wanted to take the head, but he couldn’t lift it an inch from the ground.

- Hey, you, faithful comrades, help raise Tugarin’s head from the ground!

Ekim Ivanovich and his comrades rode up and helped Alyosha Popovich put Tugarin’s head on a heroic horse.

When they arrived in Kyiv, they drove into the princely courtyard and threw a monster in the middle of the courtyard.

Prince Vladimir came out with the princess, invited Alyosha to the princely table, and spoke kind words to Alyosha:

- Live, Alyosha, in Kyiv, serve me, Prince Vladimir. I'll welcome you, Alyosha.

Alyosha remained in Kyiv as a warrior. This is how they sing about young Alyosha from old times, so that good people will listen:

Our Alyosha is of the priestly family,

He is brave and smart, but has a grumpy disposition.

He is not as strong as he pretended to be.

Collected in one book are retellings of epics and heroic fairy tales by the wonderful children's writer and folklore collector Irina Karnaukhova.

Initiation

Kyiv-city stands on high hills.

In the old days, it was surrounded by an earthen rampart and surrounded by ditches.

You could see far from the green hills of Kyiv. Suburbs and populous villages, rich arable lands, the blue ribbon of the Dnieper, golden sands on the left bank, pine groves were visible...

Plowmen plowed the land near Kyiv. Skilled shipbuilders built light boats along the banks of the river and hollowed out oak canoes. In the meadows and along the creeks, shepherds grazed their cattle.

Behind the suburbs and villages there were dense forests. Hunters wandered through them, hunting bears, wolves, aurochs - horned bulls, and small animals, apparently and invisibly.

And beyond the forests stretched the steppes without end and edge. A lot of grief came from these steppes to Rus': nomads flew from them into Russian villages - they burned and robbed, and carried away Russian people in full.

To protect the Russian land from them, heroic outposts and small fortresses were scattered along the edge of the steppe. They protected the path to Kyiv, protected from enemies, from strangers.

And the heroes rode tirelessly across the steppes on powerful horses, vigilantly peering into the distance to see if they could see enemy fires or hear the tramp of other people’s horses.

For days and months, years, decades, Ilya Muromets protected his native land, he neither built a house for himself nor started a family. And Dobrynya, and Alyosha, and Danube Ivanovich - all performed military service in the steppe and in the open field. From time to time they gathered at Prince Vladimir's courtyard to relax, feast, listen to the guslars, and learn about each other.

If times are troubling, warrior-bogatyrs are needed, Prince Vladimir and Princess Apraxia greet them with honor. For them, the stoves are heated, in the gridna - the living room - for them the tables are bursting with pies, rolls, fried swans, wine, mash, sweet honey. For them, leopard skins lie on the benches, bear skins are hung on the walls.

But Prince Vladimir has deep cellars, iron locks, and stone cages. Almost for him, the prince will not remember his military exploits, will not look at his heroic honor...

But in the black huts throughout Rus', the common people love, glorify and honor the heroes. She shares rye bread with him, plants him in a red corner and sings songs about glorious exploits - about how the heroes protect and defend their native Rus'!

Glory, glory in our days to the heroes-defenders of the Motherland!

High is the height of heaven,
Deep is the depth of the ocean-sea,
There is wide expanse throughout the entire earth.
The Dnieper pools are deep,
The Sorochinsky Mountains are high,
The Bryansk forests are dark,
The mud of Smolensk is black,
Russian rivers are swift and bright.

And strong, mighty heroes in glorious Rus'!

Volga Vseslavevich

The red sun set behind the high mountains, frequent stars scattered across the sky, and at that time a young hero, Volga Vseslavevich, was born in Mother Rus'. His mother swaddled him in red swaddling clothes, tied him with gold belts, put him in a carved cradle, and began to sing songs over him.

Volga only slept for an hour, woke up, stretched - the golden belts burst, the red diapers tore, the bottom of the carved cradle fell out. And Volga stood up and said to his mother:

“Madame mother, don’t swaddle me, don’t twist me, but dress me in strong armor, a gilded helmet, and give me a club in my right hand, so that the club weighs a hundred pounds.”

The mother was frightened, but Volga was growing by leaps and bounds.

Volga has grown up to five years old. Other kids at such years only play games, but Volga has already learned to read and write - to write and count and read books. When he turned six years old, he went for a walk on the earth. His steps made the ground shake. The animals and birds heard his heroic tread, got scared, and hid. The aurochs-deer ran into the mountains, the sable-martens lay down in holes, small animals hid in the thicket, fish hid in deep places.

Volga Vseslavyevich began to learn all sorts of tricks.

He learned to fly in the sky like a falcon, learned to turn into a gray wolf, and gallop through the mountains like a deer.

Volga turned fifteen years old. He began to gather his comrades. He recruited a squad of twenty-nine people - Volga himself was the thirtieth in the squad. All the guys are fifteen years old, all mighty heroes. Their horses are fast, their arrows are accurate, their swords are sharp.

Volga gathered his squad and went with it to an open field, to the wide steppe. Carts with luggage do not creak behind them, neither down beds nor fur blankets are carried behind them, servants, stewards, cooks do not run after them...

For them, a feather bed is dry earth, a pillow is a Cherkassy saddle, there is plenty of food in the steppe, in the forests - there would be a supply of arrows and flint and steel.

So the fellows set up a camp in the steppe, lit fires, and fed the horses. Volga sends younger warriors into the dense forests:

- Take silk nets, place them in the dark forest along the ground and catch martens, foxes, black sables, we will stock up fur coats for the squad.

The vigilantes scattered through the forests. Volga waits for them for a day, waits for another, and the third day is approaching evening. Then the warriors arrived sadly: they knocked down their legs on the roots, tore off their clothes on the thorns, and returned to the camp empty-handed. Not a single animal caught them in the net.

Volga laughed:

- Oh, you hunters! Return to the forest, stand near the nets and keep your eyes peeled, well done.

Volga hit the ground, turned into a gray wolf, and ran into the forests. He drove the animals out of holes, hollows, and dead wood; he drove foxes, martens, and sables into nets. He didn’t disdain small animals; he caught gray hares for dinner.

The warriors returned with rich booty.

Volga fed and watered the squad, and also put on shoes and clothes. The warriors wear expensive sable fur coats, and for recess they also have leopard fur coats. They can’t praise Volga enough, they can’t stop looking at her.

As time goes on and on, Volga sends out the middle vigilantes:

- Set a snare in the forest on tall oak trees, catch geese, swans, gray ducks.

The heroes scattered throughout the forest, set a snare, and thought to come home with rich booty, but they didn’t even catch a gray sparrow.

They returned to the camp gloomily, hanging their violent heads below their shoulders. They hide their eyes from Volga and turn away. And Volga laughs at them:

- Why did you return without prey, hunters? Well, okay, you'll have something to feast on. Go to the snares and watch carefully.

Volga hit the ground, took off like a white falcon, rose high to the very clouds, and fell down on every bird in the sky. He hits geese, swans, gray ducks, only the fluff flies from them, as if covering the ground with snow. Whoever he didn’t beat himself, he drove into a snare.

The heroes returned to the camp with rich booty. They lit fires, baked game, washed down the game with spring water, and praised Volga.

How much or how much time has passed, Volga sends his warriors again:

- Build oak boats, make silk nets, take maple floats, go out into the blue sea, catch salmon, beluga, stellate sturgeon.

The vigilantes caught it for ten days, but they didn’t catch even a small brush. Volga turned into a toothy pike, dived into the sea, drove the fish out of deep holes, and drove them into silk nets. The fellows brought boatloads of salmon, beluga, and barbel catfish.

The warriors are walking around the open field, playing heroic games. throwing arrows, galloping on horses, testing their heroic strength...

Suddenly Volga heard that the Turkish Tsar Saltan Beketovich was going to war in Rus'.

His brave heart flared up, he called the warriors and said:

“You’ve had enough of lying around, you’ve had enough of exercising your strength, the time has come to serve your native land, to protect Rus' from Saltan Beketovich.” Which of you will make your way into the Turkish camp and recognize Salta’s thoughts?

The fellows are silent, hiding behind each other: the older one behind the middle one. The middle one spoke for the younger one, and the younger one closed his mouth.

Volga got angry:

- Apparently, I need to go myself!

He turned around - golden horns. The first time he galloped, he jumped a mile, the second time he galloped, they only saw him.

Volga galloped to the Turkish kingdom, turned into a gray sparrow, sat on the window of Tsar Saltan and listened. And Saltan walks around the room, clicks his patterned whip and says to his wife Azvyakovna:

- I decided to go to war against Rus'. I will conquer nine cities, I will sit as a prince in Kyiv, I will distribute nine cities to nine sons, I will give you a sable shushun.

And Tsarina Azvyakovna looks sadly:

- Oh, Tsar Saltan, today I had a bad dream: it was as if a black raven was fighting in a field with a white falcon. The white falcon clawed the black raven and released its feathers into the wind. The white falcon is the Russian hero Volga Vseslavyevich, the black raven is you, Saltan Beketovich. Don't go to Rus'. You won’t take nine cities, you won’t reign in Kyiv.

Tsar Saltan got angry and hit the queen with a whip:

- I am not afraid of Russian heroes, I will reign in Kyiv. Then Volga flew down like a sparrow and turned into an ermine. His body is narrow and his teeth are sharp.

The ermine ran through the royal courtyard and made its way into the deep royal cellars. There he bit off the strings of tight bows, chewed the shafts of arrows, chipped sabers, and bent clubs into an arc.

The stoat crawled out of the basement, turned into a gray wolf, ran to the royal stables - he killed and strangled all the Turkish horses.

Volga got out of the royal court, turned into a clear falcon, flew into an open field to his squad, and woke up the heroes:

- Hey, my brave squad, now is not the time to sleep, it’s time to get up! Get ready for a campaign to the Golden Horde, to Saltan Beketovich!

They approached the Golden Horde, and around the Horde there was a high stone wall. The gates in the wall are iron, the hooks and bolts are copper, there are sleepless guards at the gates - you can’t fly over, you can’t cross, you can’t break down the gate.

The heroes became sad and thought: “How can we overcome the high wall and iron gate?”

Young Volga guessed: he turned into a small midge, covered all the fellows with goosebumps, and goosebumps crawled under the gate. And on the other side they became warriors.

They struck Saltanov's force like thunder from heaven. But the Turkish army’s sabers are dull and their swords are chipped. Here the Turkish army began to run away.

The Russian heroes marched through the Golden Horde, ending all of Saltanov’s strength.

Saltan Beketovich himself fled to his palace, closed the iron doors, and pushed the copper bolts.

When Volga kicked the door, all the locking bolts flew out. the iron doors burst.

Volga entered the room and grabbed Saltan by the hands:

- You, Saltan, should not be in Rus', do not burn, do not scorch Russian cities, do not sit as a prince in Kyiv.

Volga hit him on the stone floor and crushed Saltan to death.

- Don't boast. Horde, with your strength, do not go to war against Mother Rus'!

Mikula Selyaninovich

Early in the morning, in the early sun, Volga gathered to take these taxes from the trading cities of Gurchevets and Orekhovets.

The squad mounted good horses, brown stallions, and set off. The fellows drove out into an open field, into a wide expanse, and heard a plowman in the field. The plowman plows, whistles, the plowshares scratch the stones. It’s as if a plowman is leading a plow somewhere nearby.

The good fellows go to the plowman, ride all day until evening, but cannot get to him. You can hear the plowman whistling, you can hear the bipod creaking, you can hear the plowshares scratching, but you can’t even see the plowman himself.

The good fellows travel the next day until the evening, and the plowman is still whistling, the pine tree is creaking, the plowshares are scratching, but the plowman is gone.

The third day is approaching evening, and only the good fellows have reached the plowman. The plowman plows, urges, and hoots at his filly. He lays furrows like deep ditches, pulls oak trees out of the ground, throws stones and boulders to the side. Only the plowman’s curls sway and fall like silk over his shoulders.

But the plowman’s filly is not wise, and his plow is made of maple, and his tugs are silk. Volga marveled at him and bowed politely:

- Hello, good man, there are laborers in the field!

- Be healthy, Volga Vseslavevich! Where are you going?

“I’m going to the cities of Gurchevets and Orekhovets to collect tribute from trading people.

- Eh, Volga Vseslavyevich, all the robbers live in those cities, they skin the poor plowman, and collect tolls for traveling on the roads. I went there to buy salt, bought three bags of salt, each bag a hundred pounds, put it on a gray filly and headed home to my place. Trade people surrounded me and began to take travel money from me. The more I give, the more they want. I got angry, angry, and paid them with a silk whip. Well, the one who stood sits, and the one who sat lies down.

Volga was surprised and bowed to the plowman:

- Oh, you, glorious plowman, mighty hero, come with me for a comrade.

- Well, I’ll go, Volga Vseslavyevich, I need to give them an order - not to offend other men.

The plowman took the silk tugs off the plow, unharnessed the gray filly, sat astride her and set off.

The fellows galloped halfway. The plowman says to Volga Vseslavyevich:

- Oh, we did something wrong, we left a plow in the furrow. You sent some fine warriors to pull the bipod out of the furrow, shake out the earth from it, and put the plow under the broom bush.

Volga sent three warriors.

They turn the bipod this way and that, but cannot lift the bipod off the ground.

Volga sent ten knights. They twirl the bipod with twenty hands, but can’t get it off the ground.

Volga and his entire squad went there. Thirty people without a single one stuck around the bipod on all sides, strained, went knee-deep into the ground, but didn’t move the bipod even a hair’s breadth away.

The plowman himself got off the filly and grabbed the bipod with one hand. He pulled it out of the ground and shook the earth out of the plowshares. I cleaned the plowshares with grass.

They arrived near Gurchevets and Orekhovets. And there the cunning trading people saw the plowman and cut down oak logs on the bridge over the Orekhovets River.

As soon as the squad climbed onto the bridge, the oak logs broke, the fellows began to drown in the river, the brave squad began to die, the horses began to sink, people began to go to the bottom.

Volga and Mikula got angry, got angry, whipped their good horses, and jumped over the river in one gallop. They jumped onto that bank and began to honor the villains.

The plowman beats with a whip and says:

- Oh, you greedy trading people! The men of the city feed them bread and drink honey, but you spare them salt!

Volga bestows her club on behalf of her warriors and her heroic horses. The Gurchevet people began to repent:

- You will forgive us for our villainy, for our cunning. Take tribute from us, and let the plowmen go for salt, no one will demand a penny from them.

Volga took tribute from them for twelve years, and the heroes went home.

Volga Vseslavevich asks the plowman:

- Tell me, Russian hero, what is your name, do you call yourself by your patronymic?

- Come to me, Volga Vseslavyevich, to my peasant yard, so you will find out how people honor me.

The heroes approached the field. The plowman pulled out a pine tree, plowed up a wide pole, sowed it with golden grain... The dawn was still burning, and the plowman’s field was rustling. The dark night is coming - the plowman is reaping bread. I threshed it in the morning, winnowed it by noon, ground flour by lunchtime, and started making pies. In the evening he called the people to a feast of honors.

People began to eat pies, drink mash and praise the plowman:

Oh thank you, Mikula Selyaninovich!

Svyatogor the hero

The Holy Mountains are high in Rus', their gorges are deep, their abysses are terrible; Neither birch, nor oak, nor pine, nor green grass grow there. Even a wolf won’t run there, an eagle won’t fly by - even an ant has nothing to profit from on the bare rocks.

Only the hero Svyatogor rides between the cliffs on his mighty horse. The horse leaps over chasms, jumps over gorges, and steps from mountain to mountain.

An old man rides through the Holy Mountains.
Here the mother of cheese earth sways,
Stones crumble in the abyss,
The streams flow quickly.

The hero Svyatogor is taller than a dark forest, he props up the clouds with his head, he gallops through the mountains - the mountains shake under him, he drives into the river - all the water from the river splashes out. He rides for a day, two, three - he stops, pitches his tent, lies down, gets some sleep, and again his horse wanders through the mountains.

Svyatogor the hero is bored, sadly old: in the mountains there is no one to say a word with, no one to measure his strength with.

He would like to go to Rus', walk with other heroes, fight with enemies, shake his strength, but the trouble is: the earth does not support him, only the stone cliffs of Svyatogorsk do not crumble under his weight, do not fall, only their ridges do not crack under his hooves heroic horse.

It’s hard for Svyatogor because of his strength, he carries it like a heavy burden. I would be glad to give half my strength, but there is no one. I would be glad to do the hardest work, but there is no work I can handle. Whatever you touch with your hand, everything will crumble into crumbs, flatten into a pancake.

He would begin to uproot forests, but for him forests are like meadow grass. He would begin to move mountains, but no one needs that...

So he travels alone through the Holy Mountains, his head weighed down with melancholy...

- Eh, if only I could find earthly traction, I would drive a ring into the sky, tie an iron chain to the ring; I would pull the sky to the earth, turn the earth upside down, mix the sky with the earth - I would spend a little power!

But where can you find it - cravings!

One day Svyatogor is riding along a valley between the cliffs, and suddenly a living person walks ahead!

A nondescript little man walks, stamping his bast shoes, carrying a saddlebag on his shoulder.

Svyatogor was delighted: he would have someone to exchange a word with, and began to catch up with the peasant.

He walks on his own, in no hurry, but Svyatogorov’s horse gallops at full speed, but cannot catch up with the man. A man is walking, not in a hurry, throwing his handbag from shoulder to shoulder. Svyatogor gallops at full speed - all the passers-by are ahead! He's walking at a pace - he can't catch up with everything!

Svyatogor shouted to him:

- Hey, good passerby, wait for me! The man stopped and put his purse on the ground. Svyatogor galloped up, greeted him and asked:

- What kind of burden do you have in this bag?

“And you take my purse, throw it over your shoulder and run across the field with it.”

Svyatogor laughed so hard that the mountains shook; I wanted to pry the purse with a whip, but the purse did not move, I began to push with a spear - it did not budge, I tried to lift it with my finger, but it did not rise...

Svyatogor got off his horse, took his handbag with his right hand, but did not move it by a hair. The hero grabbed the purse with both hands and pulled with all his might, only lifting it up to his knees. Lo and behold, he’s sunk knee-deep into the ground, not sweat is running down his face, but blood is flowing, his heart is frozen...

Svyatogor threw his handbag, fell to the ground, and a rumble went through the mountains and valleys.

The hero could barely catch his breath.

- Tell me what you have in your purse? Tell me, teach me, I have never heard of such a miracle. My strength is exorbitant, but I can’t lift such a grain of sand!

“Why not say it, I’ll say it: in my little bag all the earthly cravings lie.”

Svyatogor lowered his head:

- This is what earthly craving means. Who are you and what is your name, passer-by?

- I’m a plowman, Mikula Selyaninovich.

“I see, good man, the mother of the earth loves you!” Maybe you can tell me about my fate? It’s hard for me to ride through the mountains alone, I can’t live like this in the world anymore.

- Go, hero, to the Northern Mountains. There is an iron forge near those mountains. In that forge, the blacksmith forges everyone’s destiny, and from him you will learn about your destiny.

Mikula Selyaninovich threw his purse over his shoulder and walked away. And Svyatogor jumped on his horse and galloped towards the Northern Mountains. Svyatogor rode and rode for three days, three nights, did not go to sleep for three days - he reached the Northern Mountains. Here the cliffs are even bare, the abysses are even blacker, the rivers are deep and raging...

Under the very cloud, on a bare rock, Svyatogor saw an iron forge. There is a bright fire burning in the forge, black smoke is pouring out of the forge, and there is a ringing and knocking sound throughout the area.

Svyatogor entered the forge and saw: a gray-haired old man standing at the anvil, blowing the bellows with one hand, hitting the anvil with a hammer with the other, but nothing was visible on the anvil.

- Blacksmith, blacksmith, what are you forging, father?

- Come closer, bend down lower! Svyatogor bent down, looked and was surprised: a blacksmith was forging two thin hairs.

- What do you have, blacksmith?

“Here are two hairs of an owl, a hair with a hair of an owl - two people get married.”

- Who does fate tell me to marry?

- Your bride lives on the edge of the mountains in a dilapidated hut.

Svyatogor went to the edge of the mountains and found a dilapidated hut. The hero entered it and put a gift - a bag of gold - on the table. Svyatogor looked around and saw: a girl was lying motionless on a bench, covered with bark and scabs, and did not open her eyes.

Svyatogor felt sorry for her. Why is he lying there and suffering? And death does not come, and there is no life.

Svyatogor pulled out his sharp sword and wanted to hit the girl, but his hand did not rise. The sword fell on the oak floor.

Svyatogor jumped out of the hut, mounted his horse and galloped off to the Holy Mountains.

Meanwhile, the girl opened her eyes and saw: a heroic sword was lying on the floor, a bag of gold was on the table, and all the bark had fallen off her, and her body was clean, and her strength had returned.

She got up, walked along the hill, walked out the threshold, bent over the lake and gasped: a beautiful girl was looking at her from the lake - stately, and white, and rosy-cheeked, and with clear eyes, and fair-haired braids!

She took the gold that was lying on the table, built ships, loaded them with goods and set off across the blue sea to trade and seek happiness.

Wherever she comes, all the people run to buy goods and admire the beauty. Her fame spreads throughout Rus':

So she reached the Holy Mountains, and rumors about her reached Svyatogor. He also wanted to look at the beauty. He looked at her, and he fell in love with the girl.

“This is the bride for me, I’ll marry this one!” The girl also fell in love with Svyatogor.

They got married, and Svyatogor’s wife began to tell him about her former life, how she lay covered in bark for thirty years, how she was cured, how she found money on the table.

Svyatogor was surprised, but didn’t say anything to his wife.

The girl gave up trading, sailing the seas, and began to live with Svyatogor on the Holy Mountains.

Alyosha Popovich and Tugarin Zmeevich

In the glorious city of Rostov, the Rostov cathedral priest had one and only son. His name was Alyosha, nicknamed Popovich after his father.

Alyosha Popovich did not learn to read and write, did not sit down to read books, but learned from an early age to wield a spear, shoot a bow, and tame heroic horses. Silon Alyosha is not a great hero, but he prevailed with his audacity and cunning. Alyosha Popovich grew up to sixteen years old, and he became bored in his father’s house.

He dressed his horse like a prince. The saddle is from Cherkasy, the girth is silk, the bridle is gilded.

Alyosha called his beloved friend Ekim Ivanovich with him and on Saturday morning he left home to seek heroic glory for himself.

Here are faithful friends riding shoulder to shoulder, stirrup to stirrup, looking around. There is no one in sight in the steppe - no hero with whom to measure strength, no beast to hunt. The Russian steppe stretches out under the sun without end, without edge, and you can’t hear a rustle in it, you can’t see a bird in the sky. Suddenly Alyosha sees a stone lying on the mound, and something is written on the stone. Alyosha says to Ekim Ivanovich:

- Come on, Ekimushka, read what is written on the stone. You are well-literate, but I am not trained to read and write and cannot read.

Ekim jumped off his horse and began to make out the inscription on the stone.

“Here, Alyoshenka, is what is written on the stone: the right road leads to Chernigov, the left road to Kyiv, to Prince Vladimir, and the straight road leads to the blue sea, to quiet backwaters.”

- Where should we go, Ekim?

“It’s a long way to go to the blue sea; there’s no need to go to Chernigov: there are good kalachniks there.” Eat one kalach and you’ll want another; eat another and you’ll collapse on the feather bed; we won’t find heroic glory there. We’ll go to Prince Vladimir, maybe he’ll take us into his squad.

- Well, then, Ekim, let’s take the left path.

The fellows wrapped up their horses and rode along the road to Kyiv.

Alyosha woke up in the morning, washed his face with dew, dried himself with a white towel, and began combing his curls.

And Ekim jumped up, went after the horses, gave them water, fed them oats, and saddled both his and Alyosha’s.

Once again the fellows hit the road.

They drive and drive, and suddenly they see an old man walking in the middle of the steppe. A beggar wanderer is a wanderer. He is wearing bast shoes made of seven silks, he is wearing a sable fur coat, a Greek hat, and in his hands is a traveling club.

He saw the fellows and blocked their path:

- Oh, you brave fellows, you don’t go beyond the Safat River. The evil enemy Tugarin, son of the Snake, became there. He is as tall as a tall oak tree, between his shoulders is an oblique fathom, you can put an arrow between your eyes. His winged horse is like a fierce beast: flames are blazing from his nostrils, smoke is pouring out of his ears. Don't go there, well done!

Ekimushka glances at Alyosha, and Alyosha became incensed and angry:

- Okay, take it, and make sure there is no trouble: he can swallow you in one gulp.

- It’s okay, we’ll manage somehow!

Alyosha put on a colored dress and went on foot to the Safat River. It's coming. leaning on a baton, limping...

Tugarin Zmeevich saw him, screamed so that the earth trembled, tall oaks bent, water splashed out of the river, Alyosha was barely standing alive, his legs were giving way.

“Hey,” shouts Tugarin, “hey, wanderer, have you seen Alyosha Popovich?” I would like to find him, stab him with a spear, and burn him with fire.

And Alyosha pulled his Greek hat over his face, grunted, groaned and answered in an old man’s voice:

- Oh-oh-oh, don’t be angry with me, Tugarin Zmeevich! I'm deaf from old age, I can't hear anything you order me. Come closer to me, to the wretched one.

Tugarin rode up to Alyosha, leaned down from the saddle, wanted to bark in his ear, and Alyosha was dexterous and evasive - as soon as a club struck him between the eyes, Tugarin fell unconscious to the ground.

Alyosha took off his expensive dress, embroidered with gems, not a cheap dress, worth a hundred thousand, and put it on himself. He strapped Tugarin himself to the saddle and rode back to his friends.

And so Ekim Ivanovich is not himself, he is eager to help Alyosha, but it is impossible to interfere in the hero’s business, to interfere with Alyosha’s glory.

Suddenly he sees Ekim - a horse is galloping like a fierce beast, Tugarin is sitting on it in an expensive dress.

Ekim got angry and threw his thirty-pound club straight into Alyosha Popovich’s chest. Alyosha fell down dead.

And Ekim pulled out a dagger, rushed to the fallen man, wants to finish off Tugarin... And suddenly he sees Alyosha lying in front of him...

Ekim Ivanovich fell to the ground and burst into tears:

“I killed, I killed my named brother, dear Alyosha Popovich!”

They began to shake and rock Alyosha with a calico, poured foreign drink into his mouth, and rubbed him with medicinal herbs. Alyosha opened his eyes, got to his feet, stood and wobbled.

Ekim Ivanovich is not himself with joy.

He took off Tugarin's dress from Alyosha, dressed him in heroic armor, and gave the Kalika his goods. He put Alyosha on his horse and walked alongside him: he supported Alyosha.

Only in Kyiv itself did Alyosha come into force.

They arrived in Kyiv on Sunday, around lunchtime. We drove into the prince's courtyard, jumped off our horses, tied them to oak posts and entered the upper room.

Prince Vladimir greets them kindly.

- Hello, dear guests, where did you come to see me from? What is your name, what is your patronymic?

— I am from the city of Rostov, the son of the cathedral priest Leonty. And my name is Alyosha Popovich. We drove through the pure steppe, met Tugarin Zmeevich, he is now hanging in my toroki.

Prince Vladimir was delighted:

- What a hero you are, Alyoshenka! Wherever you want, sit at the table: if you want, next to me, if you want, opposite me, if you want, next to the princess.

Alyosha Popovich did not hesitate; he sat down next to the princess. And Ekim Ivanovich stood by the stove.

Prince Vladimir shouted to the servants:

- Untie Tugarin Zmeevich, bring him here to the room! As soon as Alyosha took hold of the bread and salt, the doors of the hotel opened, twelve grooms were brought in on Tugarin’s golden plaque, and they were seated next to Prince Vladimir.

The steward came running, brought fried geese, swans, and brought ladles of sweet honey.

Before the guests had time to take a piece, there were only bones on the table.

Alyosha Popovich frowned and said:

“My father priest Leonty had an old and greedy dog. She grabbed a large bone and choked. I grabbed her by the tail and threw her down the hill - the same will happen to Tugarin from me.

Tugarin darkened like an autumn night, pulled out a sharp dagger and threw it at Alyosha Popovich.

The end would have come for Alyosha, but Ekim Ivanovich jumped up and intercepted the dagger in flight.

- My brother, Alyosha Popovich, will you throw the knife at him yourself or will you allow me?

The guests began to make noise, began to argue, began to take a bet, they bet everything for Tugarin - ships, goods, and money.

Only Princess Apraxia and Ekim Ivanovich are considered for Alyosha.

Alyosha got up from the table and went with Ekim to his tent on the Safat River. Alyosha doesn’t sleep all night, looking at the sky, calling on a thundercloud to wet Tugarin’s wings with rain. Early in the morning Tugarin arrived, hovering over the tent, wanting to strike from above. It was not for nothing that Alyosha did not sleep: a thunder cloud flew in, rained down, and wetted Tugarin’s horse’s mighty wings. The horse rushed to the ground and galloped along the ground.

Alyosha sits firmly in the saddle, waving a sharp saber.

Tugarin roared so loudly that leaves fell from the trees:

“This is the end for you, Alyoshka: if I want, I’ll burn with fire, if I want, I’ll trample on my horse, if I want, I’ll stab with a spear!”

Alyosha drove up closer to him and said:

- Why are you, Tugarin, deceiving?! You and I bet that we would measure our strength one on one, but now you have an untold strength behind you!

Tugarin looked back, wanted to see what power was behind him, and that’s all Alyosha needed. He swung his sharp saber and cut off his head!

The head rolled to the ground like a beer cauldron, and Mother Earth began to hum! Alyosha jumped off and wanted to take the head, but he couldn’t lift it an inch from the ground. Alyosha Popovich shouted in a loud voice:

- Hey, you, faithful comrades, help raise Tugarin’s head from the ground!

Ekim Ivanovich rode up with his comrades and helped Alyosha Popovich put Tugarin’s head on the hero’s horse.

When they arrived in Kyiv, they drove into the princely courtyard and threw a monster in the middle of the courtyard.

Prince Vladimir came out with the princess, invited Alyosha to the princely table, and spoke kind words to Alyosha:

- Live, Alyosha, in Kyiv, serve me, Prince Vladimir. I'll welcome you, Alyosha.

Alyosha remained in Kyiv as a warrior.

This is how they sing about young Alyosha from old times, so that good people will listen:

Our Alyosha is of the priestly family,
He is brave and smart, but has a grumpy disposition.
He is not as strong as he pretended to be.

About Dobrynya Nikitich and Zmey Gorynych

Once upon a time there lived a widow, Mamelfa Timofeevna, near Kiev. She had a beloved son - the hero Dobrynyushka. Throughout Kyiv, fame spread about Dobrynya: he was stately, and tall, and learned to read and write, and was brave in battle, and cheerful at the feast. He will compose a song, play the harp, and say a clever word. And Dobrynya’s disposition is calm and affectionate. He will not scold anyone, he will not offend anyone in vain. No wonder they nicknamed him “quiet Dobrynyushka.”

Once on a hot summer day, Dobrynya wanted to swim in the river. He went to his mother Mamelfa Timofeevna:

“Let me go, mother, to go to the Puchai River and swim in the cold water,” the summer heat has exhausted me.

Mamelfa Timofeevna got excited and began to dissuade Dobrynya:

- My dear son Dobrynyushka, don’t go to the Puchai River. The river is furious and angry. From the first stream the fire shoots out, from the second stream sparks fall, from the third stream smoke pours out in a column.

“Okay, mother, at least let me go along the shore and get some fresh air.”

Mamelfa Timofeevna released Dobrynya.

Dobrynya put on a traveling dress, covered himself with a tall Greek hat, took with him a spear and a bow with arrows, a sharp saber and a whip.

He mounted a good horse, called a young servant with him and set off. Dobrynya drives for an hour or two; The summer sun is scorching hot, burning Dobrynya’s head. Dobrynya forgot what his mother was punishing him and turned his horse towards the Puchai River.

The Puchai River brings coolness.

Dobrynya jumped off his horse and threw the reins to the young servant:

- You stay here, watch the horse.

He took off the Greek hat from his head, took off his traveling clothes, put all his weapons on his horse and rushed into the river.

Dobrynya floats along the Puchai River and is surprised:

- What did my mother tell me about the Puchai River? The Pooh-river is not fierce, The Pooh-river is quiet, like a rain puddle.

Before Dobrynya had time to speak, the sky suddenly darkened, but there were no clouds in the sky, and there was no rain, but thunder rumbled, and there was no thunderstorm, but the fire was shining...

Dobrynya raised his head and saw that the Serpent Gorynych was flying towards him, a terrible serpent with three heads and seven claws, flames blazing from his nostrils, smoke pouring out of his ears, copper claws on his paws shining.

The Serpent saw Dobrynya and thundered:

- Eh, the old people prophesied that Dobrynya Nikitich would kill me, but Dobrynya himself came into my clutches. Now if I want, I’ll eat you alive, if I want, I’ll take you to my lair, I’ll take you prisoner. I have a lot of Russian people in captivity, only Dobrynya was missing.

- Oh, you damned snake, first take Dobrynya, then show off, but for now Dobrynya is not in your hands.

Dobrynya knew how to swim well; he dived to the bottom, swam under the water, surfaced near a steep shore, jumped out onto the shore and rushed to his horse. And there was no trace of the horse: the young servant was frightened by the snake’s roar, jumped on the horse and was off. And he took all the weapons to Dobrynina.

Dobrynya has nothing to fight with the Serpent Gorynych.

And the Serpent again flies to Dobrynya, showers with flammable sparks, and burns Dobrynya’s white body.

The heroic heart trembled.

Dobrynya looked at the shore - there was nothing to take into his hands: there was no club, no pebble, only yellow sand on the steep bank, and his Greek hat was lying around.

Dobrynya grabbed a Greek hat, poured no more or less yellow sand into it - five pounds and how he would hit the Snake Gorynych with his hat - and knocked off his head.

He threw the Snake down to the ground, crushed his chest with his knees, and wanted to knock off two more heads...

How the Serpent Gorynych prayed here:

- Oh, Dobrynyushka, oh, hero, don’t kill me, let me fly around the world, I will always obey you! I will give you a great vow: not to fly to you in wide Rus', not to take Russian people prisoner. Just have mercy on me, Dobrynyushka, and don’t touch my little snakes.

Dobrynya succumbed to the crafty speech, believed the Serpent Gorynych, and let him go, damned.

As soon as the Serpent rose under the clouds, it immediately turned towards Kyiv and flew to the garden of Prince Vladimir. And at that time, young Zabava Putyatishna, Prince Vladimir’s niece, was walking in the garden.

The Serpent saw the princess, was delighted, rushed at her from under the cloud, grabbed her in his copper claws and carried her to the Sorochinsky mountains.

At this time, Dobrynya found a servant and began to put on his traveling dress - suddenly the sky darkened and thunder roared. Dobrynya raised his head and saw: the Serpent Gorynych was flying from Kyiv, carrying Zzbava Putyatishna in his claws!

Then Dobrynya became sad - he became sad, he became depressed, he came home unhappy, sat down on a bench, and didn’t say a word. His mother began to ask:

- Why are you sitting sadly, Dobrynyushka? What are you talking about, my light. Are you sad?

“I’m not worried about anything, I’m not sad about anything, but it’s not fun for me to sit at home.” I’ll go to Kyiv to see Prince Vladimir, he’s having a fun feast today.

- Don’t go, Dobrynyushka, to the prince, my heart senses evil. We'll have a feast at home too.

Dobrynya did not listen to his mother and went to Kyiv to see Prince Vladimir.

Dobrynya arrived in Kyiv and went to the prince’s upper room. At the feast, the tables are full of food, there are barrels of sweet honey, but the guests do not eat, do not drink, they sit with their heads down.

The prince walks around the upper room and does not treat guests. The princess covered herself with a veil and did not look at the guests.

Here Vladimir the Prince says:

- Eh, my beloved guests, we are having a sad feast! And the princess is bitter, and I am sad. The damned Serpent Gorynych took away our beloved niece, young Zabava Putyatishna. Which of you will go to Mount Sorochinskaya, find the princess, and free her?

Where there! The guests hide behind each other: the big ones behind the middle ones, the middle ones behind the smaller ones, and the smaller ones cover their mouths.

Suddenly the young hero Alyosha Popovich comes out from behind the table.

- That's what, Prince Red Sun, yesterday I was in an open field, I saw Dobrynyushka by the Puchai River. He fraternized with the Serpent Gorynych, called him a smaller brother. You went to the Serpent Dobrynyushka. He will ask your beloved niece from your sworn brother without a fight.

Prince Vladimir got angry:

- If so, get on your horse, Dobrynya, ride to Mount Sorochinskaya, get me my beloved niece. But not. If you get Putyatishna’s Fun, I’ll order your head to be cut off!

Dobrynya lowered his violent head, did not answer a word, got up from the table, mounted his horse and rode home.

Mother came out to meet him and saw that Dobrynya had no face.

- What’s wrong with you, Dobrynyushka, what’s wrong with you, son, what happened at the feast? Did they offend you, or put you under a spell, or put you in a bad place?

“They didn’t offend me or put a spell around me, and I had a place according to my rank, according to my rank.”

- Why did you hang your head, Dobrynya?

- Prince Vladimir ordered me to perform a great service: to go to Mount Sorochinskaya, to find and get Zabava Putyatishna. And the Serpent Gorynych took away Zabava Putyatishna.

Mamelfa Timofeevna was horrified, but did not cry and be sad, but began to think about the matter.

- Go to bed, Dobrynyushka, go to sleep quickly, get some strength. The morning is wiser than the evening, tomorrow we will keep the advice.

Dobrynya went to bed. He sleeps, snores that the stream is noisy. And Mamelfa Timofeevna does not go to bed, sits on a bench and spends the whole night weaving a seven-tailed whip from seven silks.

In the morning, Dobrynya Nikitich’s mother woke up:

- Get up, son, get dressed, get dressed, go to the old stable. In the third stall the door does not open; the oak door was beyond our strength. Push up, Dobrynyushka, open the door, there you will see your grandfather’s horse Burushka. Burka has been standing in a stall for fifteen years, uncared for. Clean him, feed him, give him something to drink, bring him to the porch.

Dobrynya went to the stable, tore the door off its hinges, brought Burushka out into the world, cleaned him, bathed him, and brought him to the porch. He began to saddle Burushka. He put a sweatshirt on it, felt on top of the sweatshirt, then a Cherkassy saddle, embroidered with valuable stitches and decorated with gold, tightened twelve girths, and bridled it with a golden bridle. Mamelfa Timofeevna came out and handed him a seven-tailed whip:

When you arrive, Dobrynya, at Mount Sorochinskaya, the Snake Gorynya will not be at home. Run your horse into the den and start trampling the baby snakes. The little snakes will wrap around Burka’s legs, and you will whip Burka between the ears with a whip. Burka will jump up, shake the baby snakes off his feet and trample every single one of them.

A branch broke off from the apple tree, an apple rolled away from the apple tree, a son was leaving his mother for a difficult, bloody battle.

Day after day passes like rain, but week after week it flows like a river. Dobrynya is riding in the red sun, Dobrynya is riding in the bright moon, he went to Mount Sorochinskaya.

And on the mountain near the snake’s lair there are teeming with baby snakes. They began to wrap Burushka’s legs around her and began to undermine her hooves. Burushka cannot jump and falls to her knees.

Dobrynya then remembered his mother’s order, grabbed the whip of seven silks, began to beat Burushka between the ears, and said:

- Jump, Burushka, jump, shake the baby snakes away from your feet.

Burushka gained strength from the whip, he began to jump high, throw stones a mile away, and began to shake baby snakes away from his feet. He beats them with his hoof and tears them with his teeth and tramples every single one of them.

Dobrynya got off his horse, took a sharp saber in his right hand, a heroic club in his left hand, and went to the snake caves.

As soon as I took a step, the sky darkened, thunder roared, and the Serpent Gorynych flies, holding a dead body in his claws. Fire shoots from the mouth, smoke pours from the ears, copper claws burn like heat...

The Serpent saw Dobrynyushka, threw the dead body to the ground, and growled in a loud voice:

- Why, Dobrynya, did you break our vow and trample my cubs?

- Oh, you damned snake! Did I break our word, did I break our vow? Why did you fly, Snake, to Kyiv, why did you take away Zabava Putyatishna?! Give me the princess without a fight, so I will forgive you.

“I won’t give up Zabava Putyatishna, I’ll devour her, and I’ll devour you, and I’ll take all the Russian people!”

Dobrynya got angry and rushed at the Snake.

And then fierce fighting began.

The Sorochinsky Mountains crumbled, the oak trees were uprooted, the grass went a yard deep into the ground...

They fight for three days and three nights; The Snake began to overcome Dobrynya, began to throw him up, began to throw him up... Then Dobrynya remembered about the whip, grabbed it and started lashing the Snake between the ears. The serpent Gorynych fell to his knees, and Dobrynya pressed him to the ground with his left hand, and with his right hand he was lashing him with a whip. He beat and beat him with a silk whip, tamed him like a beast and cut off all his heads.

Black blood gushed from the Serpent, spread to the east and west, and flooded Dobrynya to the waist.

For three days Dobrynya stands in black blood, his legs are cold, the cold reaches his heart. The Russian land does not want to accept snake blood.

Dobrynya sees that the end has come for him, took out a whip of seven silks, began to whip the ground, saying:

- Make way, mother earth, and devour the blood of the snake. The damp earth opened up and devoured the snake's blood. Dobrynya Nikitich rested, washed, cleaned his heroic armor and went to the snake caves. All the caves are closed with copper doors, locked with iron bolts, and hung with golden locks.

Dobrynya broke the copper doors, tore off the locks and bolts, and entered the first cave. And there he sees a countless number of people from forty lands, from forty countries, it’s impossible to count in two days. Dobrynyushka tells them:

- Hey, you foreign people and foreign warriors! Go out into the free world, go to your places and remember the Russian hero. Without it, you would sit in snake captivity for a century.

They began to go free and bow to Dobrynya’s land:

- We will remember you forever, Russian hero!

So Dobrynya went through eleven caves, and in the twelfth he found Zabava Putyatishna: the princess was hanging on a damp wall, chained by her hands with golden chains. Dobrynyushka tore off the chains, took the princess off the wall, took her in his arms, and carried her out of the cave into the open world.

And she stands on her feet, staggers, closes her eyes from the light, and doesn’t look at Dobrynya. Dobrynya laid her down on the green grass, fed her, gave her something to drink, covered her with a cloak, and lay down to rest.

The sun set in the evening, Dobrynya woke up, saddled Burushka and woke up the princess. Dobrynya mounted his horse, placed Zabava in front of him and set off. And there are no number of people around, everyone bows to Dobrynya, thanks for her salvation, and rushes to their lands.

Dobrynya rode out into the yellow steppe, spurred his horse and took Zabava Putyatishna to Kyiv.

How Ilya from Murom became a hero

In ancient times, Ivan Timofeevich and his wife Efrosinya Yakovlevna lived near the city of Murom, in the village of Karacharovo.

They had one son, Ilya.

Gorky Ilya, hearing about all this, complains about his fate:

- Oh, my weak legs, oh, my weak hands! If I were healthy, I would not give my native Rus' offense to enemies and robbers!

So the days went by, the months rolled by...

One day, father and mother went into the forest to uproot stumps, pull out roots, and prepare the field for plowing. And Ilya lies alone on the stove, looking out the window.

Suddenly he sees three beggar wanderers approaching his hut. They stood at the gate, knocked with an iron ring and said:

- Get up, Ilya, open the gate.

- Evil jokes. You wanderers are joking: I’ve been sitting on the stove for thirty years, I can’t get up.

- Stand up, Ilyushenka.

Ilya rushed and jumped off the stove, stood on the floor and couldn’t believe his luck.

- Come on, take a walk, Ilya.

Ilya stepped once, stepped again - his legs held him tightly, his legs carried him easily.

Ilya was overjoyed; he couldn’t say a word with joy. And the Kaliki passers-by say to him:

- Bring me some cold water, Ilyusha. Ilya brought a bucket of cold water. The wanderer poured water into the ladle.

- Drink, Ilya. This bucket contains the water of all the rivers, all the lakes of Mother Rus'.

Ilya drank and sensed heroic strength within himself. And the Kaliki ask him:

— Do you sense a lot of strength in yourself?

- A lot, wanderers. If only I had a shovel, I could plow all the land.

- Drink, Ilya, the rest. In that remnant of the whole earth there is dew, from green meadows, from high forests, from grain fields. Drink. Ilya drank the rest.

- Do you have a lot of strength in you now?

“Oh, you walking Kaliki, I have so much strength that if there were a ring in the sky, I would grab onto it and turn the whole earth over.”

“You have too much strength, you need to reduce it, otherwise the earth won’t carry you.” Bring some more water.

Ilya steps quietly, and the floorboards break under him. Ilya speaks in a whisper, and the doors are ripped off their hinges.

Ilya brought water, and the wanderers poured another ladle.

- Drink, Ilya!

Ilya drank well water.

- How much power do you have now?

“I’m half strong.”

Ilya bowed to the passers-by, and they left for the outskirts.

And Ilya took an ax and went to his father and mother to reap the harvest. He sees that the small place has been cleared of stumps and roots, and the father and mother, tired from hard work, fall into a deep sleep: the people are old, and the work is hard.

Ilya began to clear the forest - only chips flew. Old oaks are felled with one blow, young oaks are torn from the ground by their roots.

In three hours he cleared as much field as the entire village could not clear in three days. He destroyed a great field, lowered the trees into a deep river, stuck an ax into an oak stump, grabbed a shovel and a rake and dug up and leveled the wide field - just know, sow it with grain!

Father and mother woke up, were surprised, rejoiced, and remembered the old wanderers with kind words.

And Ilya went to look for a horse.

He went outside the outskirts and saw a man leading a red, shaggy, mangy foal. The entire price of the foal is a penny, and the man demands exorbitant money for him: fifty rubles and a half.

Ilya bought a foal, brought it home, put it in the stable, fattened it with white wheat, fed it with spring water, cleaned it, groomed it, and added fresh straw.

Three months later, Ilya Burushka began to take Burushka out to the meadows at dawn. The foal rolled around in the dawn dew and became a heroic horse.

Ilya led him to a high tyn. The horse began to play, dance, turn its head, shake its mane. He began to jump over the tine back and forth. He jumped over ten times and didn’t hit me with his hoof! Ilya laid his heroic hand on Burushka, but the horse did not waver, did not move.

“Good horse,” says Ilya. - He will be my faithful comrade.

Ilya got ready and went to his father and mother:

- Let me go, father and mother, and capital Kyiv-grad to Prince Vladimir. I will serve Rus' dearly; “‘with faith and truth, to protect the Russian land from enemy enemies.

Old Ivan Timofeevich says:

Ilya wanted to try his strength.

Ilya took a crust of rye bread, dropped it into the Oka River, and the Oke River himself said:

- And thank you, Mother Oka River, for giving water and feeding Ilya Muromets.

As a farewell, he took a small handful of his native land with him, sat on his horse, waved his whip...

People saw Ilya jump on his horse, but they didn’t see where he rode. Only dust rose across the field in a column.

The first fight of Ilya Muromets

As soon as Ilya grabbed the horse with his whip, Burushka-Kosmatushka took off and jumped a mile and a half. Where the horses' hooves struck, there flowed a spring of living water. Ilyusha cut down a damp oak tree near the key, placed a frame over the key, and wrote the following words on the frame:

“The Russian hero, the peasant son Ilya Ivanovich, was riding here.” A living fontanel still flows there, the oak frame still stands, and in the night a bear beast goes to the icy spring to drink water and gain heroic strength. And Ilya went to Kyiv.

He drove along a straight road past the city of Chernigov. As he approached Chernigov, he heard noise and din under the walls: thousands of Tatars besieged the city. From the dust, from the steam of the horse, there is a darkness over the ground, and the red sun is not visible in the sky. The gray bunny cannot slip between the Tatars, and the clear falcon cannot fly over the army. And in Chernigov there is crying and groaning, funeral bells are ringing. The Chernigovites locked themselves in a stone cathedral, crying, praying, waiting for death: three princes approached Chernigov, each with forty thousand forces.

Ilya’s heart burned. He besieged Burushka, tore out a green oak tree with stones and roots from the ground, grabbed it by the top and rushed at the Tatars. He began to wave the oak tree, and began to trample his enemies with his horse. Where he waves, there will be a street, and where he waves, there will be an alley. Ilya galloped up to the three princes, grabbed them by their yellow curls and spoke to them these words:

- Oh, you Tatar princes! Should I take you captive, brothers, or remove your violent heads? To take you captive - so I have nowhere to put you, I’m on the road, I’m not sitting at home, I only have a few grains of bread, for myself, not for parasites. Removing your heads is not enough honor for the hero Ilya Muromets. Go to your places, to your hordes, and spread the news that your native Rus' is not empty, there are mighty heroes in Rus', let your enemies think about it.

Then Ilya went to Chernigov-grad. He entered the stone cathedral, and there people were crying, saying goodbye to the white light.

- Hello, peasants of Chernigov, why are you peasants crying, hugging, saying goodbye to the white light?

- How can we not cry: three princes surrounded Chernigov, with forty thousand forces each, and here death is coming to us.

- You go to the fortress wall, look into the open field, at the enemy’s army.

The Chernigovites walked to the fortress wall, looked into the open field, and there the enemies were beaten and felled, as if a field had been cut by hail. The people of Chernigov beat Ilya with their foreheads, bring him bread and salt, silver, gold, expensive fabrics embroidered with stones.

- Good fellow, Russian hero, what kind of tribe are you? Which father, which mother? What's your name? You come to us in Chernigov as a governor, we will all obey you, give you honor, feed and water you, you will live in wealth and honor. Ilya Muromets shook his head:

- Good peasants of Chernigov, I am from near the city, from near Murom, from the village of Karacharova, a simple Russian hero, a peasant son. I didn’t save you out of selfishness, and I don’t need either silver or gold. I saved Russian people, red girls, small children, old mothers. I will not come to you as a commander to live in wealth. My wealth is heroic strength, my business is to serve Rus' and defend it from enemies.

The people of Chernigov began to ask Ilya to stay with them for at least a day, to feast at a merry feast, but Ilya refuses even this:

- I have no time, good people. In Rus' there is a groan from enemies, I need to quickly get to the prince and get down to business. Give me bread and spring water for the road and show me the direct road to Kyiv.

The Chernigov residents thought and became sad:

- Eh, Ilya Muromets, the direct road to Kyiv is overgrown with grass, no one has driven along it for thirty years...

- What's happened?

— The Nightingale the Robber, son Rakhmanovich, sang there near the Smorodina River. He sits on three oak trees, on nine branches. As he whistles like a nightingale, roars like an animal - all the forests bend to the ground, flowers crumble, grass dries, and people and horses fall dead. Go, Ilya, dear devious one. True, it’s three hundred miles straight to Kyiv, and a whole thousand along the roundabout road.

Ilya Muromets paused for a moment, and then shook his head:

It is no honor, no praise for me, a fine fellow, to take a roundabout road, to allow the Nightingale the Robber to prevent people from following their path to Kyiv. I will go straight and untrodden!

Ilya jumped on his horse, whipped Burushka with a whip, and he was like that, only the Chernigovites saw him!

Ilya Muromets and the Nightingale the Robber

Ilya Muromets gallops at full speed. Burushka-Kosmatushka jumps from mountain to mountain, jumps over rivers and lakes, flies over hills.

Ilya jumped off his horse. He supports Burushka with his left hand, and with his right hand he uproots oak trees and lays oak floorings through the swamp. Ilya laid out a road for thirty miles, and good people still travel along it.

So Ilya reached the Smorodina River.

The river flows wide, turbulent, and rolls from stone to stone.

Burushka neighed, soared higher than the dark forest and jumped over the river in one leap.

The Nightingale the Robber sits across the river on three oak trees and nine branches. Not a falcon will fly past those oak trees, not a beast will run, not a reptile will crawl past them. Everyone is afraid of the Nightingale the Robber, no one wants to die. Nightingale heard the gallop of a horse, stood up on the oak trees, and shouted in a terrible voice:

“What kind of ignoramus is passing here, past my protected oak trees?” Doesn't let the Robber Nightingale sleep!

Yes, as he whistled like a nightingale, roared like an animal, hissed like a snake, the whole earth trembled, the hundred-year-old oaks swayed, the flowers fell off, the grass lay down. Burushka-Kosmatushka fell to his knees.

And Ilya sits in the saddle, does not move, the light brown curls on his head do not tremble. He took the Silk whip and hit the horse on the steep sides:

- You are a bag of grass, not a heroic horse! Have you not heard the squeak of a bird, the barb of a viper?! Get on your feet, take me closer to the Nightingale’s Nest, or I’ll throw you to the wolves!

Then Burushka jumped to his feet and galloped towards the Nightingale’s nest. The Nightingale the Robber was surprised and leaned out of the nest. And Ilya, without hesitating for a moment, pulled his tight bow and released a red-hot arrow, a small arrow, weighing a whole pound. The bowstring howled, the arrow flew, hit the Nightingale in the right eye, and flew out through the left ear. The Nightingale rolled out of the nest like a sheaf of oats. Ilya picked him up in his arms, tied him tightly with rawhide straps, and tied him to the left stirrup.

The Nightingale looks at Ilya, afraid to say a word.

- Why are you looking at me, robber, or have you never seen Russian heroes?

- Oh, I fell into strong hands, apparently I will never be free again.

Ilya galloped further along the straight road and galloped to the farmstead of the Nightingale the Robber. He has a courtyard on seven miles, on seven pillars, he has an iron wall around him, on the top of each stamen is the head of a slain hero. And in the courtyard there are white stone chambers, gilded porches burning like heat.

Nightingale’s daughter saw the heroic horse and shouted to the whole yard:

- Our father Solovey Rakhmanovich is riding, riding, carrying a peasant peasant at his stirrup!

The wife of the Nightingale the Robber looked out the window and clasped her hands:

- What are you saying, unreasonable! This is a country man riding and carrying your father, Nightingale Rakhmanovich, at the stirrup!

Nightingale’s eldest daughter, Pelka, ran out into the yard, grabbed an iron board weighing ninety pounds and threw it at Ilya Muromets. But Ilya was dexterous and evasive, he waved the board away with his heroic hand, the board flew back, hit Pelka, killing her to death.

Nightingale’s wife threw herself at Ilya’s feet:

- Take from us, hero, silver, gold, priceless pearls, as much as your heroic horse can take away, just let our father, Solovy Rakhmanovich go!

Ilya says to her in response:

“I don’t need unjust gifts.” They were obtained with the tears of children, they were watered with Russian blood, acquired by peasant need! Like a robber in your hands - he is always your friend, but if you let him go, you will cry with him again. I’ll take Nightingale to Kyiv-grad, where I’ll drink kvass and make kalachi!

Ilya turned his horse and galloped towards Kyiv. The Nightingale fell silent and did not move.

Ilya is driving around Kyiv, approaching the princely chambers. He tied the horse to a sharpened post, left Nightingale the Robber with the horse, and he himself went to the bright room.

There, Prince Vladimir is having a feast, Russian heroes are sitting at the tables. Ilya entered, bowed, and stood at the threshold:

- Hello, Prince Vladimir and Princess Apraxia, are you receiving a visiting young man?

Vladimir Red Sun asks him:

- Where are you from, good fellow, what is your name? What kind of tribe?

- My name is Ilya. I'm from near Murom. A peasant son from the village of Karacharova. I was traveling from Chernigov by direct road. Then Alyosha Popovich jumps up from the table:

“Prince Vladimir, our gentle sunshine, the man is mocking you in your eyes and lying to you.” You can’t take the road straight from Chernigov. The Nightingale the Robber has been sitting there for thirty years, not allowing anyone on horseback or foot to pass. Drive the impudent hillbilly out of the palace, prince!

Ilya did not look at Alyosha Popovich, but bowed to Prince Vladimir:

- I brought it for you, prince. The nightingale the robber, he is in your yard, tied to my horse. Wouldn't you like to take a look at him?

The prince and princess and all the heroes jumped up from their seats and hurried after Ilya to the prince’s court. They ran up to Burushka-Kosmatushka.

And the robber hangs by the stirrup, hanging with a grass bag, his hands and feet tied with straps. With his left eye he looks at Kyiv and Prince Vladimir.

Prince Vladimir tells him:

- Come on, whistle like a nightingale, roar like an animal. The Nightingale the Thief does not look at him, does not listen:

“It wasn’t you who took me in battle, it’s not you who ordered me.” Then Prince Vladimir asks Ilya Muromets:

- Order him, Ilya Ivanovich.

“Okay, but don’t be angry with me, prince, but I’ll cover you and the princess with the skirts of my peasant caftan, otherwise there won’t be any trouble!” And you. Nightingale Rakhmanovich, do as you are ordered!

“I can’t whistle, my mouth is caked.”

- Give Nightingale Chara a bucket and a half of sweet wine, and another of bitter beer, and a third of intoxicating honey, give him a grainy roll to snack on, then he will whistle and amuse us...

They gave the Nightingale something to drink and feed; The Nightingale prepared to whistle.

Look. Nightingale,” says Ilya, “don’t you dare whistle at the top of your voice, but whistle half-whistle, growl half-roar, otherwise it will be bad for you.”

Nightingale did not listen to the order of Ilya Muromets, he wanted to ruin Kyiv-grad, he wanted to kill the prince and princess, all the Russian heroes. He whistled like a nightingale, roared like a nightingale, and hissed like a snake.

What happened here!

The domes on the towers became crooked, the porches fell off the walls, the glass in the upper rooms burst, the horses ran away from the stables, all the heroes fell to the ground and crawled around the yard on all fours. Prince Vladimir himself is barely alive, staggering, hiding under Ilya’s caftan.

Ilya got angry with the robber:

I told you to amuse the prince and princess, but you did so much trouble! Well, now I’ll pay you for everything! You've had enough of tearing down your fathers and mothers, you've had enough of widowing young women, you've had enough of orphaning children, you've had enough of robberies!

Ilya took a sharp saber and cut off the Nightingale’s head. This is where the end of the Nightingale came.

“Thank you, Ilya Muromets,” says Prince Vladimir. “Stay in my squad, you will be a senior hero, a leader over other heroes.” And live with us in Kyiv, live forever, from now until death.

And they went to have a feast.

Prince Vladimir seated Ilya next to him, next to him opposite the princess. Alyosha Popovich felt offended; Alyosha grabbed a damask knife from the table and threw it at Ilya Muromets. On the fly, Ilya caught a sharp knife and stuck it into the oak table. He didn’t even glance at Alyosha.

Polite Dobrynyushka approached Ilya:

- Glorious hero, Ilya Ivanovich, you will be the eldest in our squad. Take me and Alyosha Popovich as your comrades. You will be our eldest, and I and Alyosha will be our youngest.

Here Alyosha became incensed and jumped to his feet:

“Are you sane, Dobrynyushka?” You yourself are from the boyar family, I am from the old priestly family, but no one knows him, no one knows, he brought it from God knows where, but he’s doing weird things here in Kyiv, bragging.

The glorious hero Samson Samoilovich was here. He approached Ilya and said to him:

“You, Ilya Ivanovich, don’t be angry with Alyosha, he’s like a priest’s boaster, he scolds better than anyone, he brags better than anyone else.” Then Alyosha shouted:

- Why is this being done? Who did the Russian heroes choose as their eldest? Unwashed forest villagers!

Here Samson Samoilovich said a word:

“You make a lot of noise, Alyoshenka, and talk foolishly, - Rus' feeds on the village people.” Yes, and glory does not come from family or tribe, but from heroic deeds and heroic deeds. For your deeds and glory to Ilyushenka!

And Alyosha, like a puppy, barks at the round:

- How much glory will he gain by drinking mead at merry feasts!

Ilya could not stand it and jumped to his feet:

“The priest’s son spoke the right word: it is not fit for a hero to sit at a feast and grow his belly.” Let me go, prince, into the wide steppes to see if the enemy is prowling around my native Rus', if there are robbers lying around.

And Ilya left the gridney.

Ilya delivers Constantinople from the Idol.

Ilya rides across an open field, sad about Svyatogor. Suddenly he sees a Kalika passerby, old man Ivanchishche, walking along the steppe. - Hello, old man Ivanchische, where are you coming from, where are you going?

- Hello, Ilyushenka, I’m coming, wandering from Constantinople. Yes, I wasn’t happy staying there, and I’m not happy when I go home.

- What’s wrong with Constantinople?

- Oh, Ilyushenka; everything in Constantinople is not the same, not good: people cry and don’t give alms. A giant, a terrible Idol, settled in the palace of the Prince of Constantinople, took possession of the entire palace, and does what he wants.

- Why didn’t you treat him with a stick?

- What will I do with him? He is more than two fathoms tall, he is as thick as a hundred-year-old oak, and his nose sticks out like his elbow. I was afraid of the filthy idol.

- Eh, Ivanchische, Ivanchische! You have twice the strength against me. but not even half the courage. Take off your dress, take off your bast shoes, give me your downy hat and your hunchbacked stick: I will dress as a crosswalker, so that the filthy Idol does not recognize me. Ilya Muromets.

Ivanchishche thought about it and became sad:

“I wouldn’t give my dress to anyone, Ilyushenka.” There are two expensive stones woven into my bast shoes. They light my way at night in the autumn. But I won’t give it up myself - will you take it by force?

“I’ll take it, and I’ll stuff the sides.”

Kalika took off his old man's clothes, took off his bast shoes, and gave Ilya both his down hat and his traveling stick. Ilya Muromets dressed himself as a Kalika and said:

- Dress in my heroic dress, sit on Burushka-Kosma-carcass and wait for me at the Smorodina River.

Ilya put the viburnum on his horse and tied it to the saddle with twelve girths.

“Otherwise my Burushka will shake you off in no time,” he told the viburnum to a passerby.

And Ilya went to Constantinople, no matter what step he took, Ilya died away a mile away; he quickly came to Constantinople, approached the prince’s mansion. Mother earth trembles under Ilya, and the servants of the evil Idol laugh at him:

- Oh, you little Russian beggar! Such an ignoramus came to Constantinople, Our Idol of two fathoms, and even then he will pass quietly along the hill, and you knock, rattle, and stomp.

Ilya didn’t say anything to them, he went up to the tower and sang in Kalichism:

- Give, prince, alms to the poor Kalika!

And the giant-Idol of his fist knocks on the table:

But Ilya doesn’t wait for the call, he goes straight to the mansion. I went up to the porch - the porch was loose, it was walking along the floor - the floorboards were bending. He entered the tower, bowed to the prince of Constantinople, but did not bow to the filthy Idol. Idolishche sits at the table, is rude, stuffs a piece of cake into his mouth, drinks a bucket of honey at once, throws crusts and scraps under the table for the Prince of Tsargrad, and he bends his back, is silent, and sheds tears.

He saw Idolishche Ilya, shouted, and became angry:

-Where did you come from so brave? Haven't you heard that I didn't tell the Russian Kalikas to give alms?

“I haven’t heard anything, Idolishche, I didn’t come to you, but to the owner - the Prince of Constantinople.”

- How dare you talk to me like that?

Idolishche pulled out a sharp knife and threw it at Ilya Muromets. But Ilya was not a mistake - he brushed off the knife with his Greek cap. A knife flew into the door, knocked the door off its hinges, flew out the door into the courtyard and killed twelve of Idolisha’s servants. The idol trembled, and Ilya said to him:

“My father always told me: pay your debts as quickly as possible, then they’ll give you more!”

He threw a Greek cap at the Idol, hit the Idol against the wall, broke the wall with his head, and Ilya ran up and began to caress him with his stick, saying:

- Don’t go to other people’s houses, don’t offend people, will there be people who are older than you?

And Ilya killed the Idol, cut off his head with the Svyatogorov sword and drove his servants out of the kingdom.

The people of Constantinople bowed low to Ilya:

- How can we thank you, Ilya Muromets, Russian hero, for saving us from the great captivity? Stay with us in Constantinople to live.

- No, friends, I was already too late with you; Maybe in my native Rus' my strength is needed.

The people of Constantinople brought him silver, gold, and pearls, but Ilya took only a small handful.

“This,” he says, “was earned by me, and the other, give it to the poor brethren.”

Ilya said goodbye and left Constantinople to go home to Rus'. Near the Smorodina River I saw Ilya Ivanchishcha. Burushka-Kosmatushka carries it, beats it on oak trees, rubs it on stones. All the clothes on Ivanchische are hanging in shreds, the viburnum is barely alive in the saddle, tied tightly with twelve girths.

Ilya untied him and gave him his caliche dress. Ivanchishche groans and groans, and Ilya says to him:

“Go ahead, teach you, Ivanchishche: your strength is twice as strong as mine, but you don’t have half the courage.” It is not right for a Russian hero to run away from adversity or leave his friends in trouble!

Ilya sat on Burushka and went to Kyiv.

And glory runs ahead of him. As Ilya arrived at the princely court, the prince and princess met him, the boyars and warriors met him, and received Ilya with honor and affection.

Alyosha Popovich approached him:

- Glory to you, Ilya Muromets. Forgive me, forget my stupid speeches, accept me as your youngest. Ilya Muromets hugged him:

- Whoever remembers the old is out of sight. Together we will stand with you and Dobrynya at the outpost, protecting our native Rus' from enemies! And they had a great feast. At that feast Ilya was glorified: honor and glory to Ilya Muromets!

At the Bogatyrskaya outpost

Near the city of Kiev, in the wide Tsitsarskaya steppe, there was a heroic outpost. The ataman at the outpost was old Ilya Muromets, the sub-ataman was Dobrynya Nikitich, and the captain was Alyosha Popovich. And their warriors are brave: Grishka is the boyar’s son, Vasily Dolgopoly, and everyone is good.

For three years the heroes have been standing at the outpost, not allowing anyone on foot or on horseback to enter Kyiv. Even an animal will not slip past them, and a bird will not fly past them. Once a stoat ran past the outpost, and he even left his fur coat. A falcon flew by and dropped its feather.

Once, at an unkind hour, the warrior warriors scattered: Alyosha rode off to Kyiv, Dobrynya went hunting, and Ilya Muromets fell asleep in his white tent...

Dobrynya is driving home from hunting and suddenly sees: in the field, behind the outpost, closer to Kyiv, a trace of a horse’s hoof, and not a small trace, but in half an oven. Dobrynya began to examine the trail:

- This is the trace of a heroic horse. A heroic horse, but not a Russian one: a mighty hero from the Kazar land rode past our outpost - in their opinion, the hooves were shod.

Dobrynya galloped to the outpost and gathered his comrades:

- What have we done? What kind of outpost do we have, since someone else’s hero drove past? How did we, brothers, not notice this? We must now go in pursuit of him so that he does not do anything in Rus'. The heroes began to judge and decide who should go after someone else’s hero. They thought about sending Vaska Dolgopoly, but Ilya Muromets does not order Vaska to be sent:

“Vaska’s floors are long, Vaska walks on the ground and gets tangled up, in battle he gets tangled up and dies in vain.”

They thought about sending Grishka the boyar. Ataman Ilya Muromets says:

- Something’s wrong, guys, they’ve made up their minds. Grishka is a boyar family, a boastful boyar family. He will begin to boast in battle and die in vain.

Well, they want to send Alyosha Popovich. And Ilya Muromets won’t let him in:

- No offense to him, Alyosha is of the priest’s family, the priest’s envious eyes, raking hands. Alyosha will see a lot of silver and gold on a foreign land, he will envy and die in vain. And we, brothers, would rather send Dobrynya Nikitich.

So they decided - to go to Dobrynyushka, beat the stranger, cut off his head and bring the brave one to the outpost.

Dobrynya did not shirk from work, saddled his horse, took a club, girded himself with a sharp saber, took a silk whip, and rode up Mount Sorochinskaya. Dobrynya looked into the silver tube and saw something turning black in the field. Dobrynya galloped straight towards the hero and shouted to him in a loud voice:

“Why are you passing through our outpost, not hitting Ataman Ilya Muromets with your forehead, and not paying esaul Alyosha a tax into the treasury?!”

The hero heard Dobrynya, turned his horse, and galloped towards him. From his gallop, the earth shook, water splashed out of rivers and lakes, and Dobrynin’s horse fell to his knees. Dobrynya got scared, turned his horse, and galloped back to the outpost. He arrives, neither alive nor dead, and tells everything to his comrades.

“It seems that I, the old one, will have to go to the open field myself, since even Dobrynya couldn’t cope,” says Ilya Muromets.

He got dressed, saddled Burushka and rode to Mount Sorochinskaya.

Ilya looked from the valiant fist and saw: a hero was driving around, amusing himself. He throws an iron club weighing ninety pounds into the sky, catches the club in flight with one hand, and twirls it like a feather.

Ilya was surprised and became thoughtful. He hugged Burushka-Kosmatushka:

“Oh, you, my shaggy little Burushka, serve me faithfully so that someone else’s head doesn’t cut off my head.”

Burushka neighed and galloped towards the boaster. Ilya drove up and shouted:

- Hey you, thief, boaster! Why are you bragging?! Why did you pass the outpost, didn’t impose taxes on our captain, and didn’t hit me, the ataman, with his forehead?!

The boaster heard him, turned his horse, and galloped towards Ilya Muromets. The ground beneath him shook, rivers and lakes splashed out.

Ilya Muromets was not afraid. Burushka stands rooted to the spot, Ilya does not move in the saddle.

The heroes came together, hit each other with clubs, the handles of the clubs fell off, but the heroes did not hurt each other. They hit each other with sabers; the damask sabers broke, but both were intact. They stabbed with sharp spears - they broke the spears up to the top!

- You know, we really have to fight hand-to-hand!

They got off their horses and grabbed chest to chest. They fight all day until the evening, they fight from the evening until midnight, they fight from midnight until the clear dawn - not a single one gains the upper hand.

Suddenly Ilya waved his right hand, slipped with his left foot and fell on the damp ground. The boaster ran up, sat on his chest, took out a sharp knife, and mocked:

“You’re an old man, why did you go to war?” Don't you have any heroes in Rus'? It's time for you to retire. You would build yourself a pine hut, collect alms, and thus live and live until your early death.

So the boaster mocks, and Ilya gains strength from the Russian land. Ilya's strength has doubled; he will jump up and throw up the boaster! He flew higher than a standing forest, higher than a walking cloud, fell and sank into the ground up to his waist.

Ilya tells him:

- Well, what a glorious hero you are! I will let you go on all four sides, but you leave Russia and don’t pass the outpost next time, hit the ataman with your forehead, pay the duties. Don’t wander around Rus' as a boaster.

And Ilya did not cut off his head.

Ilya returned to the outpost to the heroes.

“Well,” he says, “my dear brothers, I’ve been riding across the field for thirty years, fighting with heroes, testing my strength, but I’ve never seen such a hero!”

Three trips of Ilya Muromets

Ilya rode across an open field, defending Rus' from enemies from his youth to old age.

The good old horse was good, his Burushka-Kosmatushka. Burushka has a tail of three saplings, a mane up to the knees, and wool of three spans. He did not look for a ford, he did not wait for transportation, he jumped over the river with one bound. He saved old Ilya Muromets from death hundreds of times.

It is not the fog that rises from the sea, it is not the white snow in the field that turns white, it is Ilya Muromets who is riding across the Russian steppe. His head and his curly beard turned white, his clear gaze became clouded:

- Oh, you old age, you old age! You caught Ilya in an open field and swooped down like a black raven! Oh, youth, youthful youth! You flew away from me like a clear falcon!

Ilya drives up to three paths, at the intersection there is a stone, and on that stone it is written: “Whoever goes to the right will be killed, whoever goes to the left will become rich, and whoever goes straight will be married.”

Ilya Muromets thought:

“What do I, an old man, need wealth for?” I have no wife, no children, no one to wear a colored dress, no one to spend the treasury. Should I go, where should I be married? Why should I, an old man, marry? It’s not good for me to take a young woman, but to take an old woman and lie on the stove and slurp jelly. This old age is not for Ilya Muromets. I’ll go along the path where the dead man should be. I will die in an open field, like a glorious hero!

And he drove along the road where the dead man should be.

As soon as he had driven three miles, forty robbers attacked him. They want to pull him off his horse, they want to rob him, kill him to death. And Ilya shakes his head and says:

“Hey, you robber, you have nothing to kill me for and nothing to rob from me.” All I have is a marten coat worth five hundred rubles, a sable hat worth three hundred rubles, a bridle worth five hundred rubles, and a Cherkassy saddle worth two thousand. Well, another blanket of seven silks, embroidered with gold and large pearls. Yes, Burushka has a gemstone between her ears. On autumn nights it burns like the sun; three miles away it is light. Moreover, perhaps, there is a horse Burushka - so he has no price in the whole world. Is it worth cutting off an old man’s head for such a small thing?!

The chieftain of the robbers got angry:

“He’s the one making fun of us!” Oh, you old devil, gray wolf! You talk a lot! Hey guys, cut off his head!

Ilya jumped off Burushka-Kosmatushka, grabbed the hat from his gray head, and began waving his hat: where he waves, there will be a street, and where he waves, there will be a side street.

In one swing, ten robbers are down, in the second, not even twenty in the world!

The chieftain of the robbers prayed:

- Don't beat us all, old hero! Take from us gold, silver, colored clothes, herds of horses, just leave us alive! Ilya Muromets grinned:

“If I took the gold treasury from everyone, I would have full cellars.” If I took a colored dress, there would be high mountains behind me. If I took good horses, great herds would follow me.

The robbers tell him:

- One red sun in this world - there is only one such hero in Rus', Ilya Muromets! You come to us, hero, as a comrade, you will be our chieftain!

- Oh, brother robbers, I will not go to be your comrade, and you too will go to your places, to your homes, to your wives, to your children, you will stand by the roads, shedding innocent blood.

Ilya turned his horse and galloped away.

He returned to the white stone, erased the old inscription, and wrote a new one: “I drove in the right lane - I wasn’t killed!”

- Well, I’ll go now, where should a married man be!

Ilya drove three miles and came out into a forest clearing. There are golden-domed towers, silver gates are wide open, and roosters are crowing on the gates.

Ilya drove into a wide courtyard, twelve girls ran out to meet him, among them the beautiful princess.

- Welcome, Russian hero, come into my high tower, drink sweet wine, eat bread and salt, fried swan!

The princess took him by the hand, led him into the mansion, and sat him down at the oak table. They brought Ilya sweet honey, overseas wine, fried swans, grainy rolls... She gave the hero something to drink and feed, and began to persuade him:

- You are tired from the road, tired, lie down and rest on a plank bed, on a feather bed.

The princess took Ilya to the sleeping quarters, and Ilya walked and thought:

“It’s not for nothing that she’s kind to me: what’s a simple Cossack, an old grandfather, to a princess! It’s obvious she has something planned.”

Ilya sees that there is a chiseled gilded bed against the wall, painted with flowers, and he guesses that the bed is tricky.

Ilya grabbed the princess and threw her onto the bed against the plank wall. The bed turned and a stone cellar opened up, and the princess fell into it.

Ilya got angry:

“Hey, you nameless servants, bring me the keys to the cellar, otherwise I’ll cut off your heads!”

- Oh, unknown grandfather, we have never seen the keys, we will show you the passages to the cellars.

They took Ilya into deep dungeons; Ilya found the cellar doors; they were covered with sand and littered with thick oak trees. Ilya dug up the sands with his hands, pushed the oak trees with his feet, and opened the cellar doors. And there sit forty kings-princes, forty tsars-princes and forty Russian heroes.

That’s why the princess invited the golden-domed ones into her mansion!

Ilya says to the kings and heroes:

“You, kings, go through your lands, and you, heroes, go to your places and remember Ilya of Muromets.” If it weren't for me, you would have laid your heads in a deep cellar.

Ilya pulled the queen's daughter out into the world by her braids and cut off her wicked head.

And then Ilya returned to the white stone, erased the old inscription, wrote a new one: “I went straight - I was never married.”

- Well, now I’ll go to the path where the rich man can be.

As soon as he drove three miles, he saw a large stone of three hundred pounds. And on that stone it is written: “Whoever can roll a stone will be rich.”

Ilya strained himself, braced himself with his feet, went knee-deep into the ground, gave in with his mighty shoulder, and rolled the stone out of place.

A deep cellar opened under the stone - untold riches: silver, gold, large pearls, and yachts!

Ilya Burushka loaded her with expensive treasury and took her to Kyiv-grad. There he built three stone churches so that there would be a place to escape from enemies and to sit out from the fire. He distributed the rest of the silver, gold, and pearls to widows and orphans, and did not leave a single half for himself.

Then he sat down on Burushka, went to the white stone, erased the old inscription, wrote a new inscription: “I went to the left - I was never rich.”

Here Ilya’s glory and honor went forever, and our story reached its end.

How Ilya quarreled with Prince Vladimir

Ilya spent a lot of time traveling in open fields, he grew older and had a beard. The colored dress he was wearing was worn out, he had no gold treasury left, Ilya wanted to rest and live in Kyiv.

“I’ve been to all Lithuania, I’ve been to all the Hordes, I haven’t been to Kyiv alone for a long time.” I’ll go to Kyiv and see how people live in the capital city.

Ilya galloped to Kyiv and stopped at the princely court. Prince Vladimir is having a merry feast. Boyars, rich guests, mighty Russian heroes are sitting at the table.

Ilya entered the princely garden, stood at the door, bowed in a learned way, especially to Prince Sunny and the princess.

— Hello, Vladimir Stolno-Kyiv! Do you give water or food to visiting heroes?

- Where are you from, old man, what is your name?

- I'm Nikita Zaoleshanin.

- Well, sit down, Nikita, and eat bread with us. There is also a place at the far end of the table, you sit there on the edge of the bench. All other places are occupied. Today I have eminent guests, not for you, man, a couple - princes, boyars, Russian heroes.

The servants seated Ilya at the thin end of the table. Here Ilya thundered throughout the entire room:

“The hero is not famous by birth, but by his feat.” Business is not my place, honor is not my strength! You yourself, prince, sit with the crows, and you sit me with the stupid crows.

Ilya wanted to sit more comfortably, broke the oak benches, bent the iron piles, pressed all the guests into a large corner... Prince Vladimir did not like this. The prince grew dark like an autumn night, screamed and roared like a fierce beast:

- Why, Nikita Zaoleshanin, did you mix up all the places of honor for me, bend the iron piles! It was not for nothing that I had strong piles laid between the heroic places. So that the heroes do not push each other at the feast and do not start quarrels! What kind of order have you brought here?! Hey, you Russian heroes, why do you put up with the forest man calling you crows? Take him by the arms and throw him out of the grid and onto the street!

Three heroes jumped out, began to push Ilya, tug, but he stood, did not stagger, the cap on his head did not move.

If you want to have fun, Prince Vladimir, give me three more heroes!

Three more heroes came out, six of them grabbed onto Ilya, but he did not move from his place.

- Not enough, prince, give me three more! And the nine heroes didn’t do anything to Ilya: he stands as old as a hundred-year-old oak tree and won’t budge. The hero became incensed:

- Well, now, prince, it’s my turn to have fun!

He began to push, kick, and knock the heroes off their feet. The heroes crawled around the upper room, not one of them could stand on their feet. The prince himself hid in the oven, covered himself with a marten fur coat and trembled trembling...

And Ilya came out of the grid, slammed the doors - the doors flew out, slammed the gates - the gates crumbled...

He went out into the wide courtyard, took out a tight bow and sharp arrows, and began to say to the arrows:

- You fly, arrows, to the high roofs, knock down the golden domes from the towers!

Here golden domes from the prince's tower began to fall. Ilya shouted at the top of his voice:

“Get together, you poor, naked people, pick up the golden domes, take them to the tavern, drink wine, eat your fill of kalachi!”

Beggars came running, picked up the poppies, and began to feast and walk with Ilya.

And Ilya treats them and says:

- Drink and eat, poor brothers, do not be afraid of Prince Vladimir; Maybe tomorrow I myself will reign in Kyiv, and I’ll make you my assistants! They reported everything to Vladimir:

“Nikita knocked down your crowns, prince, he gives water and food to the poor brethren, he boasts of becoming a prince in Kyiv.” The prince was frightened and thought about it. Dobrynya Nikitich stood up here:

- You are our prince, Vladimir the Red Sun! This is not Nikita Zaoleshanin, this is Ilya Muromets himself, we need to bring him back, repent to him, otherwise no matter how bad it will be.

They began to think about who to send for Ilya.

Send Alyosha Popovich - he won’t be able to call Ilya. Send Churila Plenkovich - he’s only smart about dressing up. They decided to send Dobrynya Nikitich, Ilya Muromets calls him brother.

Dobrynya walks along the street and thinks:

“Ilya Muromets is menacing in anger. Are you not following your death, Dobrynyushka?”

Dobrynya came, looked at how Ilya was drinking and walking, and began to think:

“Come in from the front, he’ll kill you right away, and then he’ll come to his senses. I’d rather approach him from behind.”

Dobrynya approached Ilya from behind and hugged his powerful shoulders:

- Hey, my brother, Ilya Ivanovich! You restrain your mighty hands, you restrain your angry heart, because ambassadors are not beaten or hanged. Prince Vladimir sent me to repent before you. He didn’t recognize you, Ilya Ivanovich, that’s why he put you in a place of no honor. And now he asks you to come back. He will receive you with honor, with glory.

Ilya turned around:

- Well, you’re happy, Dobrynyushka, that you came from behind! If you came in from the front, only your bones would be left. And now I won’t touch you, my brother. If you ask, I will go back to Prince Vladimir, but I will not go alone, but I will capture all my guests, so that Prince Vladimir will not be angry!

And Ilya called all his comrades, all the naked poor brethren, and went with them to the prince’s court.

Prince Vladimir met him, took him by the hands and kissed his sugar lips:

- Come on, you old Ilya Muromets, you sit higher than everyone else, in a place of honor!

Ilya did not sit in the place of honor, he sat down in the middle place and seated all the poor guests next to him.

“If it weren’t for Dobrynyushka, I would have killed you today, Prince Vladimir.” Well, this time I will forgive your guilt.

The servants brought refreshments to the guests, but not generously, but one glass at a time, one dry roll at a time.

Again Ilya became angry:

- So, prince, do you treat my guests? With small charms! Vladimir the Prince did not like this:

“I have sweet wine in the cellar, there’s a forty barrel for everyone.” If you don’t like what’s on the table, let them bring it from the cellars themselves, not the great boyars.

- Hey, Prince Vladimir, this is how you treat your guests, this is how you honor them, so that they themselves run for food and drink! Apparently, I myself will have to be the owner!

Ilya jumped to his feet, ran into the cellars, took one barrel under one arm, another under the other arm, and rolled the third barrel with his foot. Rolled out to the prince's courtyard.

- Take some wine, guests, I’ll bring more!

And again Ilya went down into the deep cellars.

Prince Vladimir became angry and shouted in a loud voice:

- Go you, my servants, faithful servants! You run quickly, close the cellar doors, cover it with a cast-iron grate, cover it with yellow sand, and cover it with hundred-year-old oak trees. Let Ilya die there from starvation!

Servants and servants came running, locked Ilya, blocked the cellar doors, covered them with sand, covered them with bars, and destroyed the faithful, old, mighty Ilya of Muromets!..

And the naked beggars were driven out of the yard with whips.

The Russian heroes did not like this kind of thing.

They got up from the table without finishing their meal, left the prince’s mansion, mounted good horses and rode away.

- But we won’t live in Kyiv anymore! But let’s not serve Prince Vladimir!

So at that time Prince Vladimir had no heroes left in Kyiv.

Ilya Muromets and Kalin the Tsar

It’s quiet and boring in the prince’s upper room.

The prince has no one to advise him with, no one to feast with, no one to go hunting with...

Not a single hero visits Kyiv.

And Ilya sits in a deep cellar. The iron bars are locked with locks, the bars are filled with oak and rhizomes, and covered with yellow sand for strength. Not even a little gray mouse can get to Ilya.

Here the old man would have died, but the prince had a smart daughter. She knows that Ilya Muromets could protect Kyiv-grad from enemies, could stand up for the Russian people, save both mother and Prince Vladimir from grief.

So she was not afraid of the prince’s wrath, took the keys from her mother, ordered her faithful maids to dig secret tunnels to the cellar, and began to bring Ilya Muromets sweet food and honey.

Ilya sits in the cellar, alive and well, and Vladimir thinks that he has been gone for a long time.

Once the prince was sitting in the upper room, thinking bitter thoughts. Suddenly he hears someone galloping along the road, their hooves beating like thunder. The plank gates fell down, the whole room shook, the floorboards in the hallway jumped. The doors fell off their forged hinges, and a Tatar, an ambassador from the Tatar king Kalin himself, entered the room.

The messenger himself is as tall as an old oak tree, his head is like a beer cauldron.

The messenger gives the prince a letter, and in that letter it is written:

“I, Tsar Kalin, ruled the Tatars, the Tatars are not enough for me, I wanted Rus'. You surrender to me, Prince of Kiev, otherwise I will burn all of Rus' with fire, trample it with horses, harness men to carts, chop up children and old people, I will force you, Prince, to guard the horses, and make the princess bake cakes in the kitchen.”

Here Prince Vladimir burst into tears, burst into tears, and went to Princess Apraksin:

- What are we going to do, princess?! I angered all the heroes, and now there is no one to protect us. I killed the faithful Ilya of Muromets with a stupid death, by starvation. And now we have to flee from Kyiv.

His young daughter says to the prince:

- Let’s go, father, to look at Ilya, maybe he’s still alive in the cellar.

- Oh, you unreasonable fool! If you remove your head from your shoulders, will it grow back? Can Ilya sit without food for three years? His bones have long since crumbled to dust...

And she repeats one thing:

- Send the servants to look at Ilya.

The prince sent to dig out the deep cellars and open the cast-iron grates.

The servants opened the cellar, and there Ilya was sitting alive, with a candle burning in front of him. The servants saw him and rushed to the prince.

The prince and princess went down to the cellars. Prince Ilya bows to the damp ground:

- Help, Ilyushenka, the Tatar army has besieged Kyiv and its suburbs. Come out of the cellar, Ilya, stand for me.

“I spent three years in the cellars by your order, I don’t want to stand up for you!”

The princess bowed to him:

- Wait for me, Ilya Ivanovich!

“I won’t leave the cellar for you.”

What to do here? The prince begs, the princess cries, but Ilya does not want to look at them.

Here the young prince’s daughter came out and bowed to Ilya Muromets.

“Not for the prince, not for the princess, not for me, young man, but for the poor widows, for the little children, come out of the cellar, Ilya Ivanovich, stand for the Russian people, for your native Rus'!”

Ilya stood up here, straightened his heroic shoulders, left the cellar, sat on Burushka-Kosmatushka, and galloped off to the Tatar camp. I drove and drove and reached the Tatar army.

Ilya Muromets looked and shook his head: in an open field, the Tatar army is visible and invisible, a gray bird cannot fly around in a day, a fast horse cannot ride around in a week.

Among the Tatar army there is a golden tent. Tsar Kalin sits in that tent. The king himself is like a hundred-year-old oak, his legs are maple logs, his hands are spruce rakes, his head is like a copper cauldron, one mustache is golden, the other is silver.

Tsar Ilya of Muromets saw and began to laugh and shake his beard:

— The puppy ran into big dogs! Where can you cope with me? I’ll put you on the palm of my hand, I’ll slap you with the other, only a wet spot will remain! Where did you come from, that you are yapping at Tsar Kalin?

Ilya Muromets tells him:

“Before your time, Tsar Kalin, you are bragging!” I’m not a great hero, old Cossack Ilya Muromets, but perhaps I’m not afraid of you either!

Hearing this, Tsar Kalin jumped to his feet:

“The earth is full of rumors about you.” If you are that glorious hero Ilya Muromets, then sit down with me at the oak table and eat my dishes. sweet ones, drink my overseas wines, don’t just serve the Russian prince, serve me, the Tatar king.

Ilya Muromets got angry here:

— There were no traitors in Rus'! I didn’t come to feast with you, but to drive you away from Rus'!

The king began to persuade him again:

- Glorious Russian hero, Ilya Muromets, I have two daughters, they have braids like a raven’s wing, their eyes are like slits, their dress is sewn with yachts and pearls. I will give anyone in marriage to you, you will be my beloved son-in-law.

Ilya Muromets became even more angry:

- Oh, you, stuffed animal from overseas! I was afraid of the Russian spirit! Come out quickly to a mortal battle, I will take out my heroic sword, I will marry you on your neck.

Here Tsar Kalin became furious. He jumped to his maple legs, waved his curved sword, and shouted in a loud voice:

- I, hillbilly, will chop you with a sword, stab you with a spear, and cook a stew from your bones!

They had a great fight here. They cut with swords - only sparks splash from under the swords. They broke the swords and threw them away. They pierce with spears - only the wind makes noise and thunder thunders. They broke the spears and threw them away. They began to fight with their bare hands.

Tsar Kalin beats and oppresses Ilyushenka, breaks his white arms, bends his quick legs. The king threw Ilya onto the damp sand, sat on his chest, and took out a sharp knife.

“I will rip open your mighty chest, I will look into your Russian heart.”

Ilya Muromets tells him:

— In the Russian heart there is direct honor and love for Mother Rus'. Kalin the Tsar threatens with a knife and mocks:

“You really are not a big hero, Ilya Muromets, you probably eat little bread.”

“And I’ll eat the kalach, and that’s why I’m full.” The Tatar king laughed:

“And I eat three baked kalachs, and I eat a whole bull in cabbage soup.”

“Nothing,” says Ilyushenka. - My father had a cow - a glutton, she ate and drank a lot, and burst.

Ilya speaks, and he presses himself closer to the Russian soil. From the Russian land strength comes to him, rolls through Ilya’s veins, strengthens his heroic arms.

Tsar Kalin swung his knife at him, and as soon as Ilyushenka moved... Tsar Kalin flew off him like a feather.

“I,” Ilya shouts, “have received three times the strength from the Russian land!” Yes, when he grabbed Tsar Kalin by the maple legs, he began to wave the Tatar around, beat and destroy the Tatar army with him. Where he waves, there will be a street, and where he waves, there will be an alley! Ilya hits and smashes, saying:

- This is for your little kids! This is for peasant blood! For evil insults, for empty fields, for dashing robbery, for robberies, for the entire Russian land!

Then the Tatars started to run away. They run across the field, shouting in a loud voice:

- Oh, if we didn’t get to see Russian people, we wouldn’t meet any more Russian heroes!

Since then it’s time to go to Rus'!

Ilya Kalin the Tsar threw him like a worthless rag into the golden tent, went in, poured a glass of strong wine, not a small glass, into one and a half buckets. He drank the charm for a single spirit. He drank to Mother Rus', to her wide peasant fields, to her trading cities, to green forests, to blue seas, to swans in the creeks!

Glory, glory to our native Rus'! Don’t let the enemies gallop across our land, don’t trample the Russian land with their horses, don’t eclipse our red sun for them!

About the beautiful Vasilisa Mikulishna

Once there was a big feast at Prince Vladimir's, and everyone at that feast was cheerful, everyone at that feast was boasting, but one guest sat sadly, did not drink honey, did not eat fried swan - this is Staver Godinovich, a trade guest from the city of Chernigov.

The prince approached him:

Why, Staver Godinovich, don’t you eat, don’t drink, sit sadly and don’t boast about anything? True, you are not distinguished by birth, and you are not famous for military deeds - what can you brag about.

“Your word is right, Grand Duke: I have nothing to brag about.” I haven’t had my father and mother for a long time, otherwise I would have praised them... I don’t want to show off my gold treasury; I myself don’t know how much I have, I won’t have time to count it before I die.

There is no point in boasting about your dress: you all wear my dresses at this feast. I have thirty tailors who work for me day and night. I wear the caftan from morning to night, and then I’ll sell it to you.

You shouldn’t brag about your boots either: I put on new boots every hour, and I sell you the old ones.

All my horses are golden-haired, my sheep are all with golden fleece, and I sell even those to you.

Should I boast about my young wife Vasilisa Mikulishna, the eldest daughter of Mikula Selyaninovich. There is no other like it in the world!

The bright moon shines under her scythe, her eyebrows are blacker than sable, her eyes are clear like a falcon!

And there is no smarter person in Rus' than her! She will wrap her fingers around all of you, and, prince, she will drive you crazy.

Hearing such daring words, everyone at the feast was frightened and fell silent... Princess Apraxia was offended and began to cry. And Prince Vladimir became angry:

“Come on, my faithful servants, grab Stavr, drag him into a cold basement, chain him to the wall for his offensive speeches.” Give him spring water and feed him oatcakes. Let him sit there until he comes to his senses. Let's see how his wife will drive us all crazy and rescue Stavra from captivity!

Well, that’s what they did: they put Stavr in deep cellars. But this is not enough for Prince Vladimir: he ordered guards to be sent to Chernigov, to seal the wealth of Stavr Godinovich, and his wife in chains. Bring Kyiv - see what kind of clever girl she is!

While the ambassadors were getting ready and saddled their horses, news about everything flew to Chernigov to Vasilisa Mikulishna.

Vasilisa thought bitterly:

“How can I help my dear husband out? You can’t buy it back with money, you can’t take it by force! Well, I won’t take it by force, I’ll take it by cunning!”

Vasilisa came out into the hallway and shouted:

“Hey, you, my faithful maids, saddle me the best horse, bring me a Tatar man’s dress and cut off my blond braids!” I’m going to go help out my dear husband!

The girls cried bitterly while they cut Vasilisa’s blonde braids. Long braids covered the entire floor, and the bright moon fell on the braids.

Vasilisa put on a Tatar man's dress, took a bow and arrows and galloped off to Kyiv. No one will believe that this is a woman - a young hero is galloping across the field.

Halfway there she met ambassadors from Kyiv:

- Hey, hero, where are you going?

“I’m going to Prince Vladimir as an ambassador from the formidable Golden Horde to receive tribute for twelve years.” And you guys, where are you headed?

- And we are going to Vasilisa Mikulishna, to take her to Kyiv, to transfer her wealth to the prince.

- You're late, brothers. I sent Vasilisa Mikulishna to the Horde, and my warriors took her wealth away.

- Well, if that’s the case, we have nothing to do in Chernigov. We'll ride back to Kyiv.

Kyiv messengers galloped to the prince and told him that an ambassador from the formidable Golden Horde was going to Kyiv.

The prince became sad: he could not collect tribute for twelve years, he had to appease the ambassador.

They began to set tables, throw fir trees into the yard, and placed sentinels on the road - they were waiting for a messenger from the Golden Horde.

And the ambassador, before reaching Kyiv, pitched a tent in an open field, left his soldiers there, and he himself went alone to Prince Vladimir.

The ambassador is handsome, and stately, and powerful, and not menacing in face, and a courteous ambassador.

He jumped off his horse, tied it to a gold ring, and went to the upper room. He bowed to all four sides, to the prince and princess separately. Zabava Putyatishna bowed lowest to everyone.

The prince says to the ambassador:

- Hello, formidable ambassador from the Golden Horde, sit down at the table. rest, eat and drink on the road.

“I have no time to sit around: the khan doesn’t favor us ambassadors for this.” Give me a quick tribute for twelve years and marry Zabava Putyatishna to me and I’ll ride to the Horde!

- Allow me, Ambassador, to consult with my niece. Prince Zabava took him out of the room and asked:

- Will you, niece, marry the Horde ambassador? And Fun says to him quietly:

- What are you talking about, uncle! What are you up to, prince? Don’t make people laugh all over Rus' - this is not a hero, but a woman.

The prince got angry:

“Your hair is long and your mind is short: this is the formidable ambassador from the Golden Horde, the young hero Vasily.”

- This is not a hero, but a woman! He walks through the upper room like a duck swimming, without clicking his heels; He sits on a bench, pressing his knees together. His voice is silver, his arms and legs are small, his fingers are thin, and traces of rings are visible on his fingers.

The prince thought:

- I need to test the ambassador!

He called the best Kyiv fighters - five Pritchenkov brothers and two Khapilovs, went to the ambassador and asked:

“Wouldn’t you like, guest, to have fun with the wrestlers, wrestle in the wide yard, and stretch your bones out of the way?”

“Why can’t I stretch my bones? I’ve loved wrestling since childhood.” They all went out into the wide courtyard, the young ambassador entered the circle, grabbed three wrestlers with one hand, three young men with the other, threw the seventh into the middle, and when his forehead hit them, all seven lay on the ground and could not get up.

Prince Vladimir spat and walked away:

- What stupid fun, unreasonable! She called such a hero a woman! We have never seen such ambassadors before! And the Fun stands on its own:

- This is a woman, not a hero!

She persuaded Prince Vladimir, he wanted to test the ambassador again.

^He brought out twelve archers.

“Don’t you want, ambassador, to have some fun with the archers?”

- From what! I've been archery since childhood!

Twelve archers came out and shot arrows at a tall oak tree. The oak tree began to shake, as if a whirlwind had passed through the forest.

Ambassador Vasily took a bow, pulled the string, the silk string sang, a red-hot arrow howled and went, the mighty heroes fell to the ground, Prince Vladimir could not stand on his feet.

An arrow hit the oak tree, the oak tree shattered into small chips.

“Oh, I feel sorry for the mighty oak tree,” says the ambassador, “but I’m even more sorry for the red-hot arrow, now you can’t find it in all of Rus'!”

Vladimir went to his niece, and she kept repeating her thoughts: a woman, a woman!

Well,” the prince thinks, “I’ll talk to him myself - women in Rus' don’t play overseas chess!”

He ordered the golden chess set to be brought and said to the ambassador:

“Would you like to have fun with me and play overseas chess?”

- Well, from an early age I beat all the guys at checkers and chess! And what, prince, are we going to start playing for?

- You set a tribute for twelve years, and I will set the whole Kyiv city.

- Okay, let's play! They started banging chess on the board.

Prince Vladimir played well, and the ambassador went once, another went, and the tenth went - checkmate for the prince, and away with chess! The prince became sad:

“You took Kyiv-grad from me, take my head, ambassador!”

“I don’t need your head, prince, and I don’t need Kyiv, just give me your niece Zabava Putyatishna.”

The prince was delighted, and in his joy he no longer went to Zabav and asked questions, but ordered the wedding feast to be prepared.

So they feast for a day or two and three, the guests are having fun, but the bride and groom are sad. The ambassador hung his head below his shoulders.

Vladimir asks him:

- Why are you, Vasilyushka, sad? Or don't you like our rich feast?

“For some reason, Prince, I’m sad and unhappy: maybe there’s trouble at home, maybe there’s trouble ahead of me.” Order to call the guslar players, let them amuse me, sing about the old years or about the current ones.

The guslars were called. They sing, the strings ring, but the ambassador doesn’t like it:

“These, prince, are not guslars, not choir players... My father told me that you have Staver Godinovich from Chernigov, he knows how to play, knows how to sing a song, but these are like wolves in a field howling.” I wish I could listen to Stavr!

What should Prince Vladimir do here? To release Stavr would mean Stavr would not be seen, and not to release Stavr would anger the ambassador.

Vladimir did not dare to anger the ambassador, because no tribute had been collected from him, and he ordered Stavr to be brought.

They brought Stavr, but he could barely stand on his feet, weakened, starved to death...

The ambassador jumped out from the table, grabbed Stavr by the arms, sat him down next to him, began to give him food and drink, and asked him to play.

Staver adjusted the gusli and began playing Chernigov songs. Everyone at the table listened, and the ambassador sat, listened, and did not take his eyes off Stavr.

Staver finished.

The ambassador says to Prince Vladimir:

- Listen, Prince Vladimir of Kiev, you give me Stavr, and I will forgive you the tribute for twelve years and return to the Golden Horde.

Prince Vladimir doesn’t want to give Stavr away, but there’s nothing to do.

“Take it,” he says, “Stavra, young ambassador.”

Then the groom did not wait for the end of the feast, he jumped on his horse, put Stavr behind him and galloped into the field to his tent. At the tent he asks him:

“Ali didn’t recognize me, Staver Godinovich?” You and I learned to read and write together.

“I have never seen you, Tatar ambassador.”

The ambassador entered the white tent and left Stavra at the doorstep. With a quick hand, Vasilisa threw off her Tatar dress, put on women's clothes, decorated herself and left the tent.

- Hello, Staver Godinovich. And now you don’t recognize me either?

Staver bowed to her:

- Hello, my beloved wife, young clever Vasilisa Mikulishna! Thank you for saving me from captivity! But where are your brown braids?

- With blond braids, my beloved husband, I pulled you out of the cellar!

“Let’s mount, wife, on fast horses and go to Chernigov.”

- No, it’s not honor for us, Staver, to run away secretly, we’ll go to Prince Vladimir to finish the feast.

They returned to Kyiv and entered the prince’s upper room.

Prince Vladimir was surprised when Staver entered with his young wife.

And Vasilisa Mikulishna asks the prince:

- Hey, Sunny Vladimir-Prince, I am a formidable ambassador, Stavrov’s wife, I’ve returned to finish the wedding. Will you give your niece to marry me?

The Fun Princess jumped up:

- I told you, uncle! He almost caused laughter all over Rus', he almost gave the girl to a woman.

The prince hung his head out of shame, and the heroes and boyars choked with laughter.

The prince shook his curls and began to laugh:

- Well, that’s right, Staver Godinovich, you boasted about your young wife! And smart, and brave, and pretty. She fooled everyone and drove me, the prince, crazy. For her and for the vain insult, I will reward you with precious gifts.

So Staver Godinovich began to drive home with the beautiful Vasilisa Mikulishna. The prince and princess, the heroes, and the prince's servants came out to see them off.

They began to live and live at home, making good money.

And they sing songs and tell fairy tales about the beautiful Vasilisa.

Solovey Budimirovich

From under an old tall elm, from under a broom bush, from under a white pebble, the Dnieper River flowed. It filled with streams and rivers, flowed through the Russian land, and carried thirty ships to Kyiv.

All the ships are well decorated, but one ship is the best. This is the ship of the owner Solovy Budimirovich.

On the nose of the turk's head there is a carved head, instead of eyes it has expensive yachts inserted, instead of eyebrows there are black sables, instead of ears there are white ermines, instead of a mane there are black-brown foxes, instead of a tail there are white bears.

The sails on the ship are made of expensive brocade, the ropes are silk. The ship's anchors are silver, and the rings on the anchors are pure gold. The ship is well decorated with everything!

There is a tent in the middle of the ship. The tent is covered with sables and velvet, and there are bear furs on the floor.

Solovey Budimirovich is sitting in that tent with his mother Ulyana Vasilievna.

And the vigilantes stand around the tent. Their clothes are expensive, made of cloth, silk belts, and feather hats. They are wearing green boots, lined with silver nails, and fastened with gilded buckles.

Nightingale Budimirovich walks around the ship, shakes his curls, and says to his warriors:

- Come on, brother shipbuilders, climb onto the upper yards and see if Kyiv City is visible. Choose a good pier so that we can bring all the ships into one place.

The shipmen climbed onto the yards and shouted to the owner:

- Close, close to the glorious city of Kyiv! We also see the ship's pier!

So they arrived at Kyiv, dropped anchor, and secured the ships.

Nightingale Budimirovich ordered three gangplanks to be thrown onto the shore. One gangplank is pure gold, another is silver, and the third is copper.

At the golden gathering the Nightingale brought his mother together, at the silver gathering he himself went, and at the copper gathering the warriors ran out.

Nightingale Budimirovich called his housekeepers:

- Unlock our treasured caskets, prepare gifts for Prince Vladimir and Princess Apraksin. Pour a bowl of red gold, and a bowl of silver, and a bowl of pearls. Take forty sables and countless foxes, geese, and swans. Take out the expensive brocade with stains from the crystal chest - I’ll go to Prince Vladimir.

Nightingale Budimirovich took the golden goslings and went to the princely palace.

Mother and her maids follow him, and behind mother they carry precious gifts.

The Nightingale came to the prince's court, left his squad at the porch, and entered the upper room with his mother.

As Russian custom dictates, the polite Solovey Budimirovich bowed to all four sides, and especially to the prince and princess, and presented rich gifts to everyone.

He gave the prince a bowl of gold, the princess expensive brocade, and Zabava Putyatishna - large pearls. He distributed silver to the prince's servants, and furs to the heroes and boyars' sons.

Prince Vladimir liked the gifts, and Princess Apraksin liked them even more.

The princess started a merry feast in honor of the guest. At that feast they honored Nightingale Budimirovich and his mother.

Vladimir-Prince Nightingale began to ask:

- Who are you, good fellow? From what tribe? What should I reward you with: cities with villages or a gold treasury?

- I am a trade guest, Solovey Budimirovich. I don’t need cities with villages, and I myself have plenty of gold treasury. I didn’t come to you to trade, but to stay as a guest. Show me, prince, great kindness - give me a good place where I could build three towers.

- If you want, build on the market square, where wives and women bake pies, where little guys sell rolls.

- No, prince, I don’t want to build on the shopping area. Give me a place closer to you. Let me line up in the garden of Zabava Putyatishna, in the cherry and hazel trees.

- Take a place you like, even in the garden of Zabava Putyatishna.

- Thank you, Vladimir Red Sun.

The Nightingale returned to his ships and called his squad together.

“Come on, brothers, we’ll take off our rich caftans and put on workers’ aprons, take off our morocco boots and put on bast shoes.” You take saws and axes, go to the garden of Zabava Putyatishna. I will show you myself. And we will build three golden-domed towers in the hazel tree, so that Kyiv-grad will stand more beautiful than all cities.

There was a knocking and chiming sound in the green garden of Zabava Putyatishnch, as if woodpeckers were clicking in the trees... And three golden-topped towers were ready for the morning light. Yes, how beautiful! Tops are intertwined with tops, windows are intertwined with windows, some canopies are lattice, others are glass, and others are pure gold.

Zabava Putyatishna woke up in the morning, opened the window into the green garden and couldn’t believe her eyes: in her favorite hazel tree there were three towers, the golden tops burning like heat.

The princess clapped her hands and called her nannies, mothers, and hay girls.

- Look, nannies, maybe I’m sleeping and in a dream I see this:

Yesterday my green garden stood empty, and today the towers in it are burning.

- And you, Mother Zabavushka, go and look, your happiness has come to your yard itself.

Zabava quickly got dressed. She didn’t wash her face, didn’t braid her hair, put shoes on her bare feet, tied a silk scarf around her and ran into the garden.

She runs along the path through the cherry tree to the hazel tree. She ran to three towers and walked quietly.

She walked up to the lattice entryway and listened. In that mansion there is knocking, strumming, tinkling - this is the Nightingale’s gold, they are counting it and putting it into bags.

She ran to another mansion, to a glass vestibule, in this mansion they said in a quiet voice: Ulyana Vasilievna, Solovy Budimirovich’s dear mother, lives here.

The princess walked away, thought for a moment, blushed, and quietly walked on her toes to the third mansion with a vestibule made of pure gold.

The princess stands and listens, and from the tower the song flows, ringing, like a nightingale whistling in the garden. And behind the voice the strings ring like a silver ring.

“Should I come in? Cross the threshold?

And the princess is scared, and she wants to take a look.

“Let me,” he thinks, “let me take a peek.”

She opened the door slightly, looked through the crack and gasped: there is sun in the sky and sun in the mansion, stars in the sky and stars in the mansion, dawn in the sky and dawn in the mansion. All the beauty of heaven is painted on the ceiling.

And on a chair made of a precious fish tooth, Nightingale Budimirovich sits, playing with golden goosebumps.

The Nightingale heard the creaking of the doors, stood up and went to the doors.

Zabava Putyatishna was frightened, her legs gave way, her heart sank, she was about to fall.

Nightingale Budimirovich guessed, threw down the goose, picked up the princess, carried her into the room, and sat her on a strapped chair.

- Why are you, princess soul, so afraid? She didn’t enter the bear’s den, but rather a polite fellow. Sit down, relax, tell me a kind word.

Zabava calmed down and began asking him:

-Where did you bring the ships from? What tribe are you? Nightingale politely gave her answers to everything, but the princess forgot her grandfather’s customs and suddenly said:

- Are you married, Solovey Budimirovich, or are you living single? If you like me, marry me.

Nightingale Budimirovich looked at her, grinned, shook his curls:

“Everyone liked you, princess, everyone liked me, but I don’t like the fact that you’re wooing yourself.” Your job is to sit modestly in the mansion, sew pearls, embroider skillful patterns, wait for matchmakers. And you run around other people's houses, wooing yourself.

The princess burst into tears, rushed to run from the tower, ran to her little room, fell on the bed, trembling all over with tears.

And Solovey Budimirovich did not say that out of malice, but as an elder to a younger one.

He quickly put on his shoes, dressed more smartly and went to Prince Vladimir:

- Hello, Prince Sun, let me say a word, say my request.

- If you please, speak, Nightingale.

“You, prince, have a beloved niece, is it possible to marry her to me?”

Prince Vladimir agreed, they asked Princess Apraxia, they asked Ulyana Vasilievna, and Nightingale sent matchmakers to Mother Zabavina.

And they betrothed Zabava Putyatishna to the good guest Solovy Budimirovich.

Then Prince Sun summoned master craftsmen from all over Kyiv and ordered them, together with Solovy Budimirovich, to erect golden towers, white-stone cathedrals, and strong walls throughout the city. Kyiv-city has become better than before, richer than the old one.

His fame spread throughout his native Rus' and spread to overseas countries: there are no better cities than Kyiv-grad.

About Prince Roman and the two princes

On the other side, on Ulenovo, there lived two brothers, two princes, and two royal nephews.

They wanted to walk around Rus', burn towns and villages, kill mothers, orphan children. They went to the king-uncle:

Our dear uncle, King Chimbal, give us forty thousand warriors, give us gold and horses, we will go to plunder the Russian land, we will bring you booty.

- No, nephews and princes, I will not give you any troops, no horses, no gold. I do not advise you to go to Rus' to visit Prince Roman Dimitrievich. I have lived on earth for many years. I have seen people go to Rus' many times, but I have never seen them return back. And if you are so impatient, go to the land of Devon - their knights sleep in their bedrooms, their horses stand in their stalls, their weapons rust in their cellars. Ask them for help and go fight Rus'.

That's what the princes did. They received fighters, horses, and gold from the Devonian land. They gathered a large army and went to fight Rus'.

They drove up to the first village - Spassky, burned the entire village with fire, killed all the peasants, threw children into the fire, and took the women captive. We dropped into the second village - Slavskoye, ravaged, burned, killed people... We approached a large village - Pereslavsky, plundered the village, burned it, killed people, took Princess Nastasya Dimitrievna captive with her little son, two months old.

The prince-knights rejoiced at the easy victories, pulled up their tents, began to have fun, feast, and scold the Russian people...

“We’ll make cattle out of Russian peasants, harness them to plows instead of oxen!”

And Prince Roman Dimitrievich was away at that time, traveling far away to hunt. He sleeps in a white tent and knows nothing about trouble. Suddenly a bird sat down on the tent and began saying:

“Get up, wake up, Prince Roman Dimitrievich, why are you sleeping soundly, you don’t sense adversity over yourself: evil knights attacked Rus', with them two princes, they destroyed villages, they cut down men, they burned children, they took your sister and nephew prisoner!”

Prince Roman woke up, jumped to his feet, and hit the oak table in anger - the table shattered into small splinters, and the ground cracked under the table.

- Oh, you puppies, evil knights! I will stop you from going to Rus', burning our cities, destroying our people!

He galloped to his inheritance, gathered a squad of nine thousand soldiers, led them to the Smorodina River and said:

- Do it, brothers, you phony little fools. Each chick sign his name and throw these chock lots into the Smorodina River.

Some chicks sank like stones. Other little chicks swam along the rapids. The third little chicks are all swimming together in the water near the shore.

Prince Roman explained to the squad:

“Those whose chicks sank will be killed in battle.” Those who swam into the rapids will be wounded. Those who swim calmly will be healthy. I will not take either the first or the second into battle, but I will only take the third three thousand.

And Roman also ordered the squad:

- You sharpen sharp sabers, prepare arrows, feed horses. When you hear a crow, saddle your horses, when you hear a raven for the second time, mount your horses, and when you hear it a third time, ride to the tents of the evil knights, descend on them like falcons and give no mercy to your fierce enemies!

Prince Roman himself turned into a gray wolf, ran into the open field to the enemy camp, to the white linen tents, chewed the reins of the horses, drove the horses far into the steppe, bit off the strings of the bows, twisted the handles of the sabers... Then he turned into a white ermine and ran into the tent.

Then the prince’s two brothers saw the dear ermine, began to catch it, chase it around the tent, and began to cover it with a sable fur coat. They threw a fur coat over him, they wanted to grab him, but the ermine was agile, he jumped out of the fur coat through the sleeve - and onto the wall, and onto the window, from the window into an open field...

Here he turned into a black raven, sat down on a tall oak tree and cawed loudly.

Only for the first time did the raven caw, and the Russian squad began to saddle their horses. And the brothers jumped out of the tent:

- Why are you, raven, cawing at us, cawing at your head! We will kill you, we will spill your blood on the damp oak!

Then the raven cawed for the second time, and the warriors jumped onto their horses and prepared their sharpened swords. They wait and wait until the raven screams for the third time.

And the brothers grabbed their tight bows:

- Will you shut up, black bird! Don't bring trouble on us! Don't stop us from feasting!

The knights looked, and the bow strings were torn, the saber handles were broken off!

Then the raven shouted for the third time. The Russian cavalry rushed like a whirlwind and flew into the enemy camp!

And they cut with sabers, and stab with spears, and beat with whips! And ahead of everyone, Prince Roman, like a falcon, flies across the field, beats the Devonian mercenary army, and gets to the two brothers.

- Who called you to go to Rus', burn our cities, cut down our people, tear off our mothers?

The warriors defeated the evil enemies, Prince Roman killed two princes. They put the brothers on a cart and sent the cart to Chimbal the King. The king saw his nephews and became sad.

King Chimbal says:

“I’ve lived in this world for many years, many people have come to Rus', but I haven’t seen them come home.” I punish both my children and grandchildren: do not go to war against great Rus', it has stood for centuries without shaking and will stand for centuries without moving!

We talked about old things.
What about the old ones, about the experienced ones,
So that the blue sea calms down,
So that good people will listen,
So that the fellows think about it,
That Russian glory never fades!

Russian epics are a treasure trove of folk heroic tales about heroes. These works can seriously interest a child in the history of the Russian people.

Read Russian epics about heroes

What are epics

An epic in Russian folklore is a genre that tells about the heroic deeds of heroes who defended their homeland, Rus', from various villains and misfortunes. An interesting feature of folk song tales is that historical truth and fantastic fiction are fascinatingly intertwined in them: the fairy-tale monster Serpent-Gorynych meets the real Vladimir the Red Sun; descriptions of life, weapons, and traditions of ancient eras are adjacent to magical transformations. Children are interested in reading epics, because this is a great way to get into the atmosphere of the heroic past of ancient Rus', to touch the roots, but at the same time not get bored like reading a textbook.

From an artistic point of view, epics are distinguished by their high poetry, rich use of folk metaphors, epithets, hyperboles, and personifications. The special rhythm fascinates the reader, captivates him in an endless dance of words, so even a young reader can “swallow” a large work without any problems.

Children should definitely be encouraged to read epics, since folk tales foster love for their native land and interest in its history. They tell us that good always triumphs over the greatest evil, and that honor, courage and heroism, even in everyday life, must tirelessly resist meanness, greed and cruelty.

Heroes of epics

The main characters of Russian folk epics are, of course, heroes of various stripes. Powerful and wise, kind and stern, they are all distinguished by their sublime patriotism and readiness to come to the aid of their homeland whenever needed. There are even female heroines among them, brave Polianians who are capable of both making a worthy couple for men and becoming an invincible adversary. An important unifying image is Prince Vladimir the Red Sun. His figure symbolizes the wisdom of a statesman who is able to govern the country and guide it along the path of prosperity. Bogatyrs cannot do without villains, and there are also plenty of them in epics: the heroes are opposed by the greedy Tugarin, the cruel Nightingale the Robber, enemy troops from different lands, even the fantastic dragon - the Serpent-Gorynych.

Senior and junior heroes

Russian epics are a complex epic system where historical and mythological motifs are intertwined, characters wander from work to work, and the plots themselves are divided into versions that existed in different periods and in different regions. But there is an important core that holds all this impressive discord together: the division of heroes into senior and junior. Both groups are quite extensive, but there are three of the most famous heroes of Rus' in each of them.

Mikula Selyanovich (Selyaninovich) is the most powerful hero. A peasant by birth, he takes his strength from his native land, so its supply is truly inexhaustible.
Svyatogor is the elder giant hero who rarely descends from his native mountain ranges.
Volga Svyatoslavovich is a unique hero-sorcerer, capable of defeating enemies without the help of weapons or physical strength. His main skill is to transform into different animals - which helps him defeat any opponent.

Even those who have not yet read Russian epics have heard about the younger heroes, who are the heroes of the Kyiv cycle of legends.

Ilya Muromets - who slept on the stove for thirty and three years, this hero bravely stood up to defend the borders of Rus' and accomplished many feats, both alone and shoulder to shoulder with his faithful comrades.
Dobrynya Nikitich is wise and reasonable, the most restrained of the three heroes. He is sometimes distinguished by a certain gentleness of character, which balances the stern disposition of the great Muromets.
Alyosha Popovich is known not so much for his strength as for his ingenuity, cunning, and ability to calculate events in advance. It was thanks to these qualities that not the strongest physically strong hero defeated many enemies.

Fairy tales and epics about Ilya. Russian bogatyrs

Prowess

Alyosha, priest's son

Ilya, peasant son

Dobrynya, Nikitin's son

Wisdom

“Good people to obey”

Rostovsky Popovich

Ryazan prince

Murom peasant

Nikita Kozhemyaka

How Ilya from Murom became a hero

Alyosha Popovich and Tugarin Zmeevich

Initiation

Volga Vseslavevich

Mikula Selyaninovich

Svyatogor the hero

Alyosha Popovich and Tugarin Zmeevich

About Dobrynya Nikitich and Zmey Gorynych

How Ilya from Murom became a hero

The first fight of Ilya Muromets

Ilya Muromets and the Nightingale the Robber

Ilya delivers Constantinople from the Idol.

At the Bogatyrskaya outpost

Three trips of Ilya Muromets

How Ilya quarreled with Prince Vladimir

Ilya Muromets and Kalin the Tsar

About the beautiful Vasilisa Mikulishna

Solovey Budimirovich

About Prince Roman and the two princes

Read Russian epics about heroes

What are epics

Heroes of epics

Senior and junior heroes

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