It happened at the time that the King’s daughter fell ill, and the King proclaimed to every town and village that he would reward any man who could cure her, and that if he were an unmarried man he should have her for his wife. The news came to Ivan’s village.
And the father and mother summoned Ivan and said to him, “Have you heard of the King’s promise? You told us you had a little root that could cure any sickness; go, cure the King’s daughter, you will then be happy for life.”
“Very well,” Ivan said, “I will go.”
And Ivan prepared himself for the journey, and they dressed him in his best clothes. When he came out on the doorstep he saw a beggar-woman with a crippled hand.
“I heard that you can cure the sick,” she said. “Cure my hand, for I cannot even put on my own shoes.”
“Very well,” Ivan said. And he took the little root out of his cap, gave it to the beggar-woman and told her to swallow it. As soon as she swallowed it, she recovered, and began to wave her hand.
The father and mother came out to bid good-bye to Ivan, and they heard that he had given away his last root and had nothing left with which to cure the King’s daughter, and they began to scold him.
“You pity a beggar-woman, yet have no pity for the King’s daughter,” they reproached him.
But Ivan was sorry for the King’s daughter. He harnessed the mare, threw some straw into the cart and got in.
“Where are you going to, you fool?”