Description
Tsar Saltan overheard the conversation of three sisters and married the youngest, who promised to bear him a heroic son. The two older sisters (the Cook and the Weaver), out of jealousy and in collusion with the matchmaker Babarikha, slandered the Tsarina while Saltan was away at war. They forged the Tsar’s decree, and the Tsarina and her newborn son, Prince Gvidon, were sealed in a barrel and thrown into the sea.
The wave cast the mother and son ashore on the uninhabited Isle of Buyan. Gvidon, having miraculously grown rapidly, saved a magical Swan from a kite. In gratitude, the Swan created a beautiful city on the island, where Gvidon became the ruler.
Merchants sailed to the island three times. Gvidon, transformed by the Swan into an insect (a mosquito, a fly, a bumblebee), secretly flew with them to his father, Tsar Saltan, and stung his wicked aunts for their plotting.
Finally, Gvidon asks the Swan to help him find a bride. She transforms into a beautiful Princess. Tsar Saltan, sailing to the island and seeing all the wonders (the squirrel with golden nuts, the 33 bogatyrs, and the Swan Princess), recognizes his wife and son. The family is reunited. In his great joy, the Tsar forgives the envious sisters and Babarikha, and everyone holds a great feast.
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Three young maidens, late one night,
Spun and spun by candle light.
“Were I to be chosen Queen,”
Said the eldest maid, “I mean
I would cook a feast of grace
For all Christians in this place.”
“Were I to be chosen Queen,”
Said the second maid, “I mean
I would weave great linens, sure,
For the whole world to endure.”
“Were I to be chosen Queen,”
Said the third maid, “I would mean
To bring forth a hero bold
To my Tsar and Sire of old.”
Hardly had the words been said,
When the door on hinges fled,
And the Tsar into the room
Walked, dispensing night and gloom.
All the time they spoke in jest
He had listened, to the test.
And the words the last maid spoke,
Heart of gold in him awoke.
“Greetings, maiden fair,” said he—
“My Tsaritsa you shall be,
And bear forth a hero bold
Ere the month of May grows old.
As for you, my sisters dear,
Leave the room and show no fear!
Follow me behind the pair,
Follow me and your young sister:
One of you shall be the Weaver,
And the other be the Cook.”
Tsar, the father, left the door;
All three followed to the court.
Tsar was quick in his design:
Wed the maiden that same night.
Tsar Saltan the royal feast
Shared with her he loved the best;
And the honest guests that came
Laid the newly-wedded game
On a bed of ivory bone,
And then left them there alone.
In the kitchen Cooks grow spiteful,
Weavers weep at looms so frightful,
And they envy their young sister,
Spouse of their beloved Tsar.
But the young Tsaritsa there,
Not delaying, had a care,
Conceived a child the very night.
At that time, a war held tight.
Tsar Saltan, his wife embracing,
On his good steed, went off pacing,
Giving orders her to keep
Safe and warm, his love to reap.
While he far away and long
Fought with fury, hard and strong,
Time for birth came in the land;
God a son gave, tall as hand,
And the Queen above her child
Like an eagle, free and wild;
Sends a messenger with script,
That the father be equipped
With the happy news he sought.
But the Weaver and the Cook,
With their matchmaker in tow,
Baba Babarikha, oh,
Wish her ill, and bid the spy
Change the letter in the eye;
Send another one themselves,
Word for word, for all the elves:
“Queen has borne in middle night
Not a son, nor daughter bright;
Not a frog, nor tiny mouse,
But a wild beast of the house.”
As the father-Tsar did hear,
What the messenger brought near,
In his anger, mad and strange,
Would have hung him for the change;
But, relenting for the time,
Gave the messenger a line:
“Wait for Tsar’s return again
For a lawful answer then.”
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