Long the Tsar sat lonely, brooding.

But he, too, was only human.

Tears for one sad year he shed...

And another woman wed. 

She (if one be strictly truthful) 

Was a born Tsaritsa — youthful, 

Slim, tall, fair to look upon, 

Clever, witty — and so on. 

But she was in equal measure 

Stubborn, haughty, wilful, jealous. 

In her dowry rich and vast 

Was a little looking-glass. 

It had this unique distinction: 

It could speak with perfect diction. 

Only with this glass would she 

In a pleasant humour be. 

Many times a day she’d greet it 

And coquettishly entreat it: 

“Tell me, pretty looking-glass, 

Nothing but the truth, I ask: 

Who in all the world is fairest 

And has beauty of the rarest?” 

And the looking-glass replied: 

“You, it cannot be denied. 

You in all the world are fairest 

And your beauty is the rarest.” 

The Tsaritsa laughed with glee, 

Shrugged her shoulders merrily, 

Puffed her cheeks and bat her eyelids. 

Flicked her fingers coyly, slyly, 

Pranced around with hand on hips. 

Arrogance upon her lips.

All this time the Tsar’s own daughter 

Quietly, as Nature taught her, 

Grew and grew, and came quite soon 

Like a flower into bloom: 

Raven-browed, of fair complexion, 

Breathing kindness and affection. 

And the choice of fiancé 

Lighted on Prince Yelisei. 

Suit was made. The Tsar consented 

And her dowry was indented: 

Seven towns with wealthy store, 

Mansion-houses — sevenscore.

On the night before the wedding 

For a bridal party dressing 

The Tsaritsa, time to pass, 

Chatted with her looking-glass: 

“Who in all the world is fairest 

And has beauty of the rarest?” 

Then what did the glass reply? 

“You are fair, I can’t deny. 

But the Princess is the fairest 

And her beauty is the rarest.” 

Up the proud Tsaritsa jumped. 

On the table how she thumped, 

Angrily the mirror slapping, 

Slipper heel in fury tapping! 

“O you loathsome looking-glass, 

Telling lies as bold as brass! 

By what right is she my riyal? 

Such young folly I shall bridle. 

So she’s grown up — me to spite! 

Little wonder she’s so white: 

With her bulging mother gazing 

At that snow — what’s so amazing! 

Now look here, explain to me 

How can she the fairer be? 

Scour this realm of ours and seek well, 

Nowhere shall you find my equal. 

Is not that the truth?” she cried. 

Still the looking-glass replied: 

“But the Princess is the fairest 

And her beauty is the rarest.” 

The Tsaritsa burst with spite, 

Hurled the mirror out of sight 

Underneath the nearest cupboard 

And when breath she had recovered 

Summoned Smudge, her chamber maid, 

And to her instructions gave: 

“Take the Princess to the forest, 

Bind her hand and foot and forehead 

To a tree! When wolves arrive 

Let them eat the girl alive!”

Woman’s wrath would daunt the devil! 

Protest was no use whatever. 

Soon the Princess left with Smudge 

For the woods. So far they trudged 

That the Princess guessed the reason. 

Scared to death by such foul treason, 

Loud she pleaded: “Spare my life! 

Innocent of guilt am I! 

Do not kill me, I beseech you! 

And when I become Tsaritsa 

I shall give you rich reward.” 

Smudge, who really loved her ward, 

Being loth to kill or bind her, 

Let her go, remarking kindly: 

“God be with you! Do not moan!” 

And, this said, went back alone. 

“Well?” demanded the Tsaritsa, 

“Where’s that pretty little creature?” 

“In the forest on her own,” 

Smudge replied. “And there she’ll stay. 

To a tree I firmly lashed her. 

When a hungry beast attacks her 

She’ll have little time to cry 

And the quicker she shall die!”

Rumour spread and caused a panic: 

“What, the Tsar’s own daughter vanished!” 

Mournful was the Tsar that day. 

But the young Prince Yelisei 

Offered God a fervent prayer 

And departed then and there 

To seek out and homeward guide 

His sweet-tempered, youthful bride.

Meanwhile his young bride kept walking 

Through the forest until morning, 

Vague as to her whereabouts. 

Suddenly she spied a house. 

Out a dog ran growling, yapping, 

Then sat down, his tail tap-tapping. 

At the gate there was no guard. 

All was quiet in the yard.

Close at heel the good dog bounded 

As the Princess slowly mounted 

Stairs to gain the living floor, 

Turned the ring upon the door. 

Silently the door swung open 

And before her eyes unfolded 

A bright chamber: all around 

Benches strewn with rugs she found, 

Board of oak beneath the ikon 

And a stove with tiles to lie on. 

To the Princess it was clear 

Kindly folk were dwelling here 

Who would not deny her shelter. 

No-one was at home, however. 

So she set to, cleaned the pans, 

Made the whole house spick and span, 

Lit a candle in the corner, 

Fed the fire to be warmer, 

Climbed onto the platform bed 

There to lay her sleepy head.

Dinner time. The yard resounded, 

Horses stamped and men dismounted. 

Thick-moustached and ruddy-skinned, 

Seven lusty Knights walked in.

Said the Eldest: “How amazing! 

All so neat! The fire blazing! 

Somebody’s been cleaning here 

And is waiting somewhere near. 

Who is there? Come out of hiding! 

Be a friend in peace abiding! 

If you’re someone old and hoar, 

Be our uncle evermore! 

If you’re young and love a scuffle, 

We’ll embrace you as a brother. 

If a venerable dame, 

Then shall ‘mother’ be your name. 

If a maiden fair, we’ll call you 

Our dear sister and adore you.”

So the Princess rose, came down 

To the Seven Knights and bowed, 

Her good wishes emphasising, 

Blushing and apologising 

That to their delightful home 

Uninvited she had come. 

Straight they saw her speech bore witness 

To the presence of a Princess. 

So they cleared a corner seat, 

Offered her a pie with meat, 

Filled a glass with wine and served it 

On a tray, as she deserved it. 

But the glass of heady wine 

She politely did decline 

And the pie she broke with caution, 

Savouring a tiny portion. 

Pleading she was very tired, 

Soon she gracefully retired 

And the Seven Knights conveyed her 

To the best and brightest chamber 

And, away as they did creep, 

She was falling fast asleep.

Days flew by — the Princess living 

All the time without misgiving 

In the forest, never bored 

With the Seven Knights abroad. 

Darkness would the earth still cover 

When at dawn the seven brothers 

Would ride out to try their luck 

With a long-bow, shooting duck, 

Or to ply their sword in battle 

And a Saracen unsaddle, 

Headlong at a Tartar go, 

Chop his head off at a blow, 

Or give chase to a Circassian, 

From the forest send him dashing.

She, as lady of the house, 

Rose much later, moved about 

Dusting, polishing and cooking, 

Never once the Knights rebuking. 

They, too, never chided her. 

Days flew by like gossamer.

And in time they grew to love her. 

Thereupon all seven brothers 

Shortly after dawn one day 

To her chamber made their way 

And the Eldest Knight addressed her: 

“As you know, you are our sister. 

But all seven of us here 

Are in love with you, my dear, 

And we all desire your favours. 

But that must not be, God save us! 

Find some way to give us peace! 

Be a wife to one at least, 

To the rest remain a sister! 

But you shake your head. Is this to 

Say our offer you refuse? 

Nothing from our stock you’ll choose?”

“O my brave and bonny brothers, 

Virtuous beyond all others!” 

In reply the Princess said,

“God in heaven strike me dead 

If my answer be not honest: 

I’ve no choice — my hand is promised! 

You’re all equal in my eyes, 

All so valiant and wise, 

And I love you all, dear brothers! 

But my heart is to another 

Pledged for evermore. One day 

I shall wed Prince Yelisei!”

Hushed, the brothers kept their station, 

Scratched their foreheads in frustration. 

“As you wish! So now we know,” 

Said the Eldest with a bow. 

“Pray forgive us — and I promise 

You’ll hear nothing further from us!” 

“I’m not angry,” she replied. 

“By my pledge I must abide.” 

Bowing low, the seven suitors 

Left her room with passions muted. 

So in harmony again 

Did they live and friendship reign.

The Tsaritsa was still livid 

Every time she saw in vivid 

Memory the Princess fair. 

Long the mirror, lying there, 

Was the object of her hatred; 

But at last her wrath abated. 

So one day it came to pass 

That she took the looking-glass 

Up again and sat before it, 

Smiled and, as before, implored it: 

“Greetings, pretty looking-glass! 

Tell me all the truth, I ask: 

Who in all the world is fairest 

And has beauty of the rarest?” 

Said the mirror in reply: 

“You are fair, I can’t deny.

But where Seven Knights go riding 

In a green oak-grove residing 

Humbly lives a person who 

Is more beautiful than you.” 

The Tsaritsa’s wrath descended 

On her maid: “What folly tempted 

You to lie? You disobeyed!” 

Smudge a full confession made.... 

Uttering a threat of torture, 

The Tsaritsa grimly swore to 

Send the Princess to her death 

Or not draw another breath. 

One day by her window waiting 

For her brothers homeward hasting 

Sat the young Princess and span. 

Suddenly the dog began 

Barking. Through the courtyard scurried 

A poor beggar-woman, worried 

By the dog she kept at bay 

With her stick. “Don’t go away! 

Stay there, stay!” the Princess shouted, 

From the window leaning outward. 

“Let me call the dog to heel 

And I’ll offer you a meal.”

And the beggar-woman answered: 

“Pretty child, you take my fancy! 

For that dog of yours, you see, 

Could well be the death of me. 

See him snarling, bristling yonder! 

Come here, child!” The Princess wanted 

To go out, and took a loaf. 

But the dog its body wove 

Round her feet, refused to let her 

Step towards the woman-beggar. 

When the woman, too, drew near, 

Wilder than an angry bear 

It attacked her. How perplexing! 

“Had a bad night’s sleep, I reckon!” 

Said the Princess. “Catch it! There!” 

And the bread flew through the air. 

The poor beggar-woman caught it. 

“I most humbly thank you, daughter, 

God be merciful!” said she. 

“In return take this from me!” 

The bright apple she was holding, 

Newly picked, fresh, ripe and golden, 

Straight towards the Princess flew.... 

How the dog leapt in pursuit! 

But the Princess neatly trapped it 

In her palms. “Enjoy the apple 

At your leisure, little pet! 

Thank you for the loaf of bread...,” 

Said the beggar-woman, brandished 

In the air her stick and vanished.... 

Up the stairs the Princess ran 

With the dog, which then began 

Pitifully staring, whining 

Just as if its heart were pining 

For the gift of speech to say: 

“Throw that apple far away!” 

Hastily his neck she patted: 

“Hey, Sokolko, what’s the matter? 

Lie down!” Entering once more 

Her own room, she shut the door, 

Sat there with her spindle humming, 

Waiting for her brothers’ coming. 

But she could not take her gaze 

From the apple where it lay 

Full of fragrance, rosy, glowing, 

Fresh and juicy, ripe and golden, 

Sweet as honey to the lips! 

She could even see the pips.... 

First the Princess thought of waiting 

Until dinner. But temptation 

Proved too strong. She grasped the bright 

Apple, took a stealthy bite 

And with fair cheek sweetly hollowed 

A delicious morsel swallowed. 

All at once her breathing stopped, 

Listlessly her white arms dropped. 

From her lap the rosy apple 

Tumbled to the floor. The hapless 

Maiden closed her swooning eyes, 

Reeled and fell without a cry, 

On the bench her forehead striking, 

Then lay still beneath the ikon....

Now the brothers, as it chanced, 

Were returning in a band 

From another warlike foray. 

Out to meet them in the forest 

Went the dog and, running hard, 

Led them straight into the yard. 

Said the Knights: “An evil omen! 

Grief in store!” The door they opened, 

Walked into the room and gasped. 

But the dog like lightning dashed 

For the apple and devoured it. 

Death that instant overpowered it. 

For the apple was, they saw, 

Filled with poison to the core. 

By the dead Princess the brothers 

Bent their heads in tears and uttered 

Holy prayer to save her soul; 

Nothing could their grief console. 

From the bench they raised her, dressed her, 

Wished within a grave to rest her, 

Then had second thoughts. For she 

Was as rosy as if sleep 

“Garlands of repose were wreathing 

Round her — though she was not breathing. 

Three whole days they waited, but 

Still her eyes were tightly shut. 

So that night with solemn ritual 

In a coffin made of crystal 

They laid out the body fair 

Of the Princess and from there 

To a hollow mountain bore her, 

Where a tomb they fashioned for her: 

Iron chains they used to fix 

Her glass case to pillars six 

With due caution, and erected 

Iron railings to protect it. 

“Sun, dear Sun! The whole year coursing 

Through the sky, in springtime thawing 

From the chill earth winter snow! 

You observe us all below. 

Surely you’ll not grudge an answer? 

Tell me, did you ever chance to 

See the Princess I revere? 

I’m her fiancé.” “My dear,” 

Said the Sun with some insistence, 

“I have nowhere seen your Princess, 

So she’s dead, we must presume, 

That is, if my friend, the Moon, 

Has not met her on his travels 

Or seen clues you may unravel.”

Through the dark night Yelisei, 

Feeling anything but gay, 

With a lover’s perseverance 

Waited for the Moon’s appearance. 

“Moon, O Moon, my friend!” he said, 

“Gold of horn and round of head, 

From the darkest shadows rising, 

With your eye the world apprizing, 

You whom stars with love regard 

As you mount your nightly guard! 

Surely you’ll not grudge an answer? 

Tell me, did you ever chance to 

See the Princess I revere? 

I’m her fiancé.” “O dear!” 

Said the Moon in consternation, 

“No, I have not seen the maiden. 

On my round I only go 

When it is my turn, you know. 

It would seem that I was resting 

When she passed.” “How very vexing 

Cried aloud Prince Yelisei. 

But the Moon went on to say: 

“Wait a minute! I suggest you 

Have the Wind come to the resclie. 

Call him now! It’s worth a try. 

And cheer up a bit! Goodbye!”

Yelisei, not losing courage, 

To the Wind’s abode now hurried. 

“Wind, O Wind! Lord of the sky, 

Herding flocks of clouds on high, 

Stirring up the dark-blue ocean, 

Setting all the air in motion, 

Unafraid of anyone 

Saving God in heaven alone! 

Surely you’ll not grudge an answer? 

Tell me, did you ever chance to 

See the Princess I revere? 

I’m her fiancé.” “O hear!” 

Said the Wind in turmoil blowing. 

“Where a quiet stream is flowing 

Stands a mountain high and steep 

In it lies a cavern deep; 

In this cave in shadows dismal 

Sways a coffin made of crystal. 

Hung by chains from pillars six. 

Round it barren land in which 

No man ever meets another. 

In that tomb your bride discover!” 

With a howl the Wind was gone. 

Yelisei wept loud and long. 

To the barren land he journeyed 

Desperately, sadly yearning 

Once again to see his bride. 

On he rode. A mountain high 

Rose before him, soaring steeply 

From a land laid waste completely. 

At its foot — an entrance dim. 

Yelisei went quickly in. 

There, he saw, in shadows dismal 

Swayed a coffin made of crystal 

Where the Princess lay at rest 

In the deep sleep of the blest. 

And the Prince in tears dissolving 

Threw himself upon the coffin... 

And it broke! The maiden straight 

Came to life, sat up, in great 

Wonder looked about and yawning 

As she set her bed see-sawing 

Said with pretty arms outstretched: 

“Gracious me! How long I’ve slept!” 

Down she stepped from out the coffin... 

O the sighing and the sobbing! 

Carrying his bride, he strode 

Back to daylight. Home they rode, 

Making pleasant conversation 

Till they reached their destination. 

Swiftly rumour spread around: 

“The Princess is safe and sound!”

It so happened the Tsaritsa 

In her room was idly seated 

By her magic looking-glass 

And to pass the time did ask: 

“Who in all the world is fairest 

And has beauty of the rarest?” 

Said the mirror in reply: 

“You are fair, I can’t deny, 

But the Princess is the fairest 

And her beauty is the rarest!” 

The Tsaritsa leapt and smashed 

On the floor her looking-glass, 

Rushing to the door she saw the 

Fair young Princess walk towards her.

Overcome by grief and spite, 

The Tsaritsa died that night. 

From the grave where she was buried 

To a wedding people hurried, 

For the good Prince Yelisei 

Wed his Princess that same day. 

Never since the World’s creation 

Was there such a celebration; 

I was there, drank mead and yet 

Barely got my whiskers wet.

Illustrations by:

B. Zvorykin, 1925