When he reached home he saw that a son had been born to him, the Tsarévich, and he began to kiss him and to fondle him. But then he began to weep bitter tears.
“Tsar my master,” said the Tsarítsa, “why do you weep such bitter tears?”
“Out of joy,” he said; for he feared to tell her the truth that he must give up the Tsarévich.
So then he went into the courtyard and opened the red coffer, and out of it oxen and kine, sheep and rams, came out. There was a multitude of all sorts of cattle. All the barns and the folds were full. He then came to the forecourt and he opened the green coffer, and in front of him a wonderful garden spread out with every kind of tree in it, and the Tsar was so joyous, and forgot to give his son up.
Many years went by: one day the Tsar wanted to take a walk, and he went to the river; and just then that same man peered up out of the water and said: “You are a very forgetful person, Tsar my master: you should recollect your debts.”
Then the Tsar went home with grief in his groaning heart, and he told the Tsarítsa and the Tsarévich all the real truth, and they were afflicted; and they all wept together and resolved that something must be done, and that they must give up the Tsarévich. So they took him to the seashore and left him by himself.
And the Tsarévich looked round, and he saw a path, went on it, trusting God might lead him aright. So he went on and on, and he lost his way in the slumberous forest, and he saw a little izbá[[41]] in the forest, and in the izbá[[41]] there lived the Bába Yagá. “I will go in,” thought the Tsarévich, and he went into the izbá.[[41]]
“Good-day, Tsarévich,” said Bába Yagá:
“Is it work on your way,
Or for sloth do you stray?”