"Very well," says the Tzar. "Say good-bye to your horse, for you will not ride him again. But let your farewells be short, for we are waiting."
The young archer crossed the courtyard and came to the horse of power, who was scraping the ground with his iron hoofs.
"Farewell, my horse of power," says the young archer. "I should have listened to your words of wisdom, for now the end is come, and we shall never more see the green trees pass above us and the ground disappear beneath us, as we race the wind between the earth and the sky."
"Why so?" says the horse of power.
"The Tzar has ordered that I am to be boiled to death—thrown into that cauldron that is seething on the great fire."
"Fear not," says the horse of power, "for the Princess Vasilissa has made him do this, and the end of these things is better than I thought. Go back, and when they are ready to throw you in the cauldron, do you run boldly and leap yourself into the boiling water."
The young archer went back across the courtyard, and the servants made ready to throw him into the cauldron.
"Are you sure that the water is boiling?" says the Princess Vasilissa.
"It bubbles and seethes," said the servants.