University of Virginia Library

Dobrynya and the Dragon

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

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

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

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

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

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

So his mother consented. He threw off his
flowered raiment, and put on garments meet for a
journey, and on his head a wide-brimmed hat from
the Grecian land. Then he saddled and bridled a
good steed which no man had ever ridden, took

his stout bow, his fiery arrows, his sharp sword
and far-reaching spear, and his battle-mace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ho, thou accursed Dragon!" said Dobrynya.
"When thou shalt have captured Dobrynya, then

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

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

Then the Dragon of the Cavern besought
Dobrynya:

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

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

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

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

"Nay," she made answer: "abide thou in thine
own dwelling, Dobrynya, with thy mother; drink
green wine until thou art full drunken, and lavish

golden treasure at thy will. But go not to this
feast." But when her son would have gone in
any case, she gave both leave and blessing, and
Dobrynya arrayed himself as was meet.

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

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

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

Then the great hid behind the lesser, and they,
in turn, behind the small, and from the least in
rank, no answer came. From the middle table
spoke Semyon, lord of Karamychetzka: "Little
father! Vladimir of royal Kief! But yesterday
in the open plain, I beheld Dobrynya beside the
Puchai river in conflict with that Dragon. And

the Dragon beguiled him,—calling him her elder
brother, herself his younger sister. Send Dobrynya,
therefore, to the Tugy mountains, for the
Princess Beauty."

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

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

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

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

"Be not sad," spoke his mother: "thy father
went to the glorious Tugy mountains and slew an

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

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

Dobrynya gazed out over the open plain, and

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To her Dobrynya made answer: "Aï, Beauty
Putyatichna! Thou art of princely birth, and I
am but of peasant stock:[1] it is not possible for
thee to call me friend and lover."

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

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

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

"Eh!" quoth Dobrynya; "this is no hero, but

a bold damsel-errant, some maid or wife, forsooth!"
Therewith he rode after the warrior-maiden,
and smote her upon her turbulent head
with his mace of damascened steel. But the warlike
virgin sat her good steed firmly, wavering not nor
glancing back. Dobrynya sat his good steed in
terror, and departed from that bold polyanitza:
"Plainly," quoth he, "Dobrynya's valour is as of
yore, but his strength is not the strength of other
days."

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

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

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

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

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

At length her good steed spoke: "Aï, thou
young Nastasya, Mikula's[2] daughter, thou bold

warrior-maid! Two heroes I cannot carry. In
might that knight is thine equal, and the courage
of that knight is as twice thine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah, Afimya Alexandrevna, thou honourable
widow my mother! I bring my enemy, young
Nastasya Mikulichna; I am to take the golden
crown with her."

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

"Hail, Fair Sun Vladimir of royal Kief!"

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

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