University of Virginia Library

Ilya of Murom and Nightingale
the Robber

YOUNG Ilya of Murom, Ivan's son, went to
matins on Easter morn. And as he
stood there in church, he vowed a great
vow: "To sing at high mass that same Easter
day in Kief town, and to go thither by the straight
way." And yet another vow he took: "As he
fared to that royal town by the straight way, not
to stain his hand with blood, nor yet his sharp
sword with the blood of the accursed Tatars."
His third vow he swore upon his mace of steel:
"That though he should go the straight way, he
would not shoot his fiery darts."

Then he departed from the cathedral church,
entered the spacious courtyard and began to saddle
good Cloudfall, his shaggy bay steed, to arm himself
and prepare for his journey to the famous town
of Kief, to the worshipful feast, and the Fair Sun
Prince Vladimir of royal Kief. Good Cloudfall's
mane was three ells in length, his tail three fathoms,
and his hair of three colours. Ilya put on him first
the plaited bridle, next twelve saddlecloths, twelve
felts, and upon them a metal-bound Cherkessian
saddle. The silken girths were twelve in number
—not for youthful vanity but for heroic strength;
the stirrups were of damascened steel from beyond
the seas, the buckles of bronze which rusteth not,

weareth not, the silk from Samarcand, which
chafeth not, teareth not.

They saw the good youth as he mounted,—as
he rode they saw him not; so swift was his flight,
there seemed but a smoke-wreath on the open
plain, as when wild winds of winter whirl about the
snow. Good Cloudfall skimmed over the grass,
and above the waters; high over the standing trees
he soared, the primeval oaks, yet lower than the
drifting clouds. From mountain to mountain he
sprang, from hill to hill he galloped; little rivers
and lakes dropped between his feet; where his
hoofs fell, founts of water gushed forth; in the
open plain smoke eddied, and rose aloft in a pillar.
At each leap Cloudfall compassed a verst and a half.

In the open steppe, young Ilya hewed down a
forest and raised a godly cross, and wrote thereon:

"Ilya of Murom, the Old Kazák, rideth to
royal Kief town, on his first heroic quest."

When he drew near to Chernigof, there stood
a great host of Tatars,—three Tzareviches, each
with forty thousand men. The cloud of steam
from the horses was so great, that the fair red sun
was not seen by day, nor the bright moon by night.
The gray hare could not course, nor the clear falcon
fly, about that host, so vast was it.

When Ilya saw that, he dismounted, and falling
down before good Cloudfall's right foot, he entreated
him:

"Help me, my shaggy bay!" So Cloudfall
soared like a falcon clear, and Ilya plucked up a
damp, ringbarked oak from the damp earth, from
amid the stones and roots, and bound it to his left
stirrup, grasped another in his right hand, and
began to brandish it. "Every man may take a
vow," quoth he, "but not every man can fulfil it."

Where he waved the damp oak, a street appeared;

where he drew it back, a lane. Great
as was the number that he slew, yet twice that
number did his good steed trample under foot:
not one was spared to continue their race.

The gates of Chernigof were strongly barred,
a great watch was kept, and the stout and mighty
heroes stood in council. Therefore Ilya flew on
his good steed over the city wall (the height of the
wall was twelve fathoms), and entered the church
where all the people were assembled, praying God,
repenting and receiving the sacrament against sure
approaching death. Ilya crossed himself as prescribed,
did reverence as enjoined, and cried:

"Hail, ye merchants of Chernigof, warrior-maidens
and mighty heroes all! Why repent ye
now, and receive the sacrament? Why do ye bid
farewell thus to the white world?"

Then they told him how they were besieged by
accursed Tatars, and Ilya said: "Go ye upon the
famous wall of your city, and look toward the open
plain."

They did as he commanded, and lo! where had
stood the many, very many foreign standards, like
a dark, dry forest, the accursed Tatars were now
cut down and heaped up, like a field of grain which
hath been reaped.

Then the men of Chernigof did lowly reverence
to the good youth, and besought him that he would
reveal his name, and abide in Chernigof to serve
them as their Tzar, King, Voevoda,[1] —what he
would; and that he would likewise accept at their
hands a bowl of pure red gold, a bowl of fair
silver, and one of fine seed-pearls.

"These I will not take," Ilya made answer,
"though I have earned them, neither will I dwell
with you either as Tzar or peasant. Live ye as of

old, my brothers, and show me the straight road to
Kief town."

Then they told him: "By the straight road it is
five hundred versts, and by the way about, a thousand.
Yet take not the straight road, for therein
lie three great barriers: the gray wolf trotteth not
that way, the black raven flieth not overhead.
The first barrier is the lofty mountains; the second
is the Smorodina river, six versts in width, and the
Black Morass; and beside that river, the third
barrier is Nightingale the Robber.

"He hath built his nest on seven oaks, that
magic bird. When he whistleth like a nightingale,
the dark forest boweth to the earth, the green
leaves wither, horse and rider fall as dead. For
that cause the road is lost, and no man hath
travelled it these thirty years."

When Ilya the Old Kazák heard that, he
mounted his good steed, and rode forthwith that
straight way. When he came to the lofty mountains,
his good steed rose from the damp earth, and
soared like a bright falcon over them and the tall
dreaming forests. When he came to the Black
Morass, he plucked great oaks with one hand, and
flung them across the shaking bog for thirty versts,
while he led good Cloudfall with the other. When
he came to Mother Smorodina, he beat his steed's fat
sides, so that the horse cleared the river at a bound.

There sat Nightingale the Robber (surnamed
the Magic Bird), and thrust his turbulent head out
from his nest upon the seven oaks; sparks and
flame poured from his mouth and nostrils. Then
he began to pipe like a nightingale, to roar like
an aurochs, and to hiss like a dragon. Thereat
good Cloudfall, that heroic steed, fell upon his
knees, and Ilya began to beat him upon his flanks
and between his ears.

"Thou wolf's food!" cried Ilya, "thou grass-bag!
Hast never been in the gloomy forest, nor
heard the song of nightingale, the roar of wild
beast, nor serpent's hiss?"

Then Ilya brake a twig from a willow that grew
near by, that he might keep his vow not to stain
his weapons with blood, fitted it to his stout bow,
and conjured it: "Fly, little dart! Enter the
Nightingale's left eye, come forth at his right
ear!"

The good heroic steed rose to his feet, and the
Robber Nightingale fell to the damp earth like a
rick of grain.

Then the Old Kazák raised up that mighty
robber, bound him to his stirrup by his yellow
curls, and went his way. Ere long they came to
the Nightingale's house, built upon seven pillars
over seven versts of ground. About the courtyard
was an iron paling, upon each stake thereof
a spike, and on each spike the head of a hero.
In the centre was the strangers' court; and there
stood three towers with golden crests, spire joined
to spire, beam merged in beam, roof wedded to
roof. Green gardens were planted round about,
all blossoming and blooming with azure flowers,
and a fair orchard encircled all.

When the Magic Bird's children looked from
the latticed casements, and beheld a hero riding
with one at his stirrup, they cried: "Aï, lady
mother! Our father cometh, and leadeth a man
at his stirrup for us to eat."

But Elena, the one-eyed, Nightingale's witch
daughter, looked forth and said: "Nay, it is the
Old Kazák Ilya of Murom who rideth, and leadeth
our father in bonds."

Then spoke Nightingale's nine sons: "We
will transform ourselves into ravens, and rend that

peasant with our iron beaks, and scatter his white
body over the plain." But their father shouted to
them that they should not harm the hero.

Nevertheless, Elena the witch ran into the wide
courtyard, tore a steel beam of a hundred and
fifty poods weight from the threshold, and hurled
it at Ilya. The good youth wavered in his saddle,
yet being nimble, he escaped the full force of the
blow. Then he leaped from his horse, and took
the witch on his foot: higher flew the witch then
than God's temple, higher than the life-giving
cross thereon, and fell against the rear wall of the
court, where her skin burst.

"Foolish are ye, my children!" cried the Nightingale.
"Fetch from the vaults a cart-load of
fair gold, another of pure silver and a third of fine
seed-pearls, and give to the Old Kazák, Ilya of
Murom, that he may set me free."

Quoth Ilya: "If I should plant my sharp spear
in the earth, and if thou shouldst heap treasure
about it until it was covered, yet would I not
release thee, Nightingale, lest thou shouldst resume
thy thieving. But follow me now to glorious Kief
town, that thou mayest receive forgiveness there."

Then his good Cloudfall began to prance, and
the Magic Bird at his stirrup to dance, and in this
wise came the good youth, the Old Kazák, to
Kief, to glorious Prince Vladimir.

Now, fair Prince Vladimir of royal Kief was not
at home; he had gone to God's temple. Therefore
Ilya entered the court without leave or announcement,
bound his horse to the golden ring
in the carven pillar, and laid his commands upon
that good heroic steed: "Guard thou the Nightingale,
my charger, that he depart not from my
stirrup of steel."

And to Nightingale he said: "Look to it,

Nightingale, that thou depart not from my good
steed; for there is no place in all the white world
where thou mayest securely hide thyself from me!"

Then he betook himself to the Easter mass.
There he crossed himself and did reverence as
prescribed, on all four sides, and to the Fair Sun
Prince Vladimir in particular. And after the mass
was over, Prince Vladimir sent to bid the strange
hero to the feast, and there inquired of him from
what horde and land he came, and what was his
parentage. So Ilya told him that he was the only
son of honourable parents. "I stood at my home
in Murom, at matins," quoth he, "and mass was
but just ended when I came hither by the straight
way."

When the heroes that sat at the prince's table
heard that, they looked askance at him.

"Nay, good youth, liest thou not? boastest thou
not?" said Fair Sun Vladimir. "That way hath
been lost these thirty years, for there stand great
barriers therein; accursed Tatars in the fields,
black morasses; and beside the famed Smorodina,
amid the bending birches, is the nest of the Nightingale
on seven oaks; and that Magic Bird hath
nine sons and eight daughters, and one is a witch.
He hath permitted neither horse nor man to pass
him these many years."

"Nay, thou Fair Sun Prince Vladimir," Ilya
answered; "I did come the straight way, and the
Nightingale Robber now sitteth bound within thy
court."

Then all left the tables of white oak, and each
outran the other to view the Nightingale, as he
sat bound to the steel stirrup, with one eye fixed
on Kief town and the other on Chernigof from
force of habit. And Princess Apraxia came forth
upon the railed balcony to look.

Prince Vladimir spoke: "Whistle, thou Nightingale,
roar like an aurochs, hiss like a dragon."

But the Nightingale replied: "Not thy captive
am I, Vladimir. 'Tis not thy bread I eat. But
give me wine."

"Give him a cup of green wine," spake Ilya,
"a cup of a bucket and a half, in weight a pood
and a half, and a cake of fine wheat flour, for his
mouth is now filled with blood from my dart."

Vladimir fetched a cup of green wine, and one
of the liquor of drunkenness, and yet a third of
sweet mead; and the Nightingale drained each at
a draught. Then the Old Kazák commanded the
Magic Bird to whistle, roar and hiss, but under his
breath, lest harm might come to any.

But the Nightingale, out of malice, did all with
his full strength. And at that cry, all the ancient
palaces in Kief fell in ruins, the new castles rocked,
the roofs through all the city fell to the ground,
damp mother earth quivered, the heroic steeds fled
from the court, the young damsels hid themselves,
the good youths dispersed through the streets, and
as many as remained to listen died. Ilya caught up
Prince Vladimir under one arm and his Princess
under the other, to shield them; yet was Vladimir
as though dead for the space of three hours.

"For this deed of thine thou shalt die," spake
Ilya in his wrath, and Vladimir prayed that at
least a remnant of his people might be spared.

The Nightingale began to entreat forgiveness,
and that he might be allowed to build a great
monastery with his ill-gotten gold. "Nay," said
Ilya, "this kind buildeth never, but destroyeth
alway."

With that he took Nightingale the Robber by his
white hands, led him far out upon the open plain,
fitted a burning arrow to his stout bow, and shot it

into the black breast of that Magic Bird. Then
he struck off his turbulent head, and scattered his
bones to the winds,[2] and mounting his good Cloudfall,
came again to Prince Vladimir.

Again they sat at the oaken board, eating savoury
viands and white swans, and quaffing sweet mead.
Great gifts and much worship did Ilya receive, and
Vladimir gave command that he should be called
evermore Ilya of Murom the Old Kazák, after his
native town.