“Well, I will look on my bride at least.”
“Lie down, sleep till morning; to-morrow Koshchéi will go to war.”
Ivan Tsarevich lay down, but sleep did not come to his mind. In the morning Koshchéi went out of the house, and Ivan Tsarevich went in. He stood at the gate and knocked. Peerless Beauty opened it, looked at him, and fell to weeping. They went to the upper chamber, sat at the table, and talked. Ivan Tsarevich instructed her. “Ask Koshchéi where his death is.”
“I will.”
He had just left the house when Koshchéi came in. “Oh!” said he, “it smells of the Russian bone; it must be that Ivan Tsarevich was with thee.”
“What art thou thinking of, Koshchéi Without-Death? Where could I see Ivan Tsarevich? He has remained in slumbering forests and in sticky quagmires; wild beasts have destroyed him ere now.”
They sat down to sup. At supper Peerless Beauty said: “Tell me, Koshchéi Without-Death, where is thy death?”
“Why dost thou wish to know, silly woman? My death is tied up in the broom.”
Early next morning Koshchéi went to war. Ivan Tsarevich came to Peerless Beauty. She took the broom, gilded it brightly with pure gold. The Tsarevich had just departed when Koshchéi came in. “Ah!” said he, “it smells of the Russian bone; Ivan Tsarevich has been with thee.”
“What dost thou mean, Koshchéi Without-Death? Thou hast been flying through Russia thyself and hast caught up the odor of Russia; it is from thee. Where should I see Ivan Tsarevich?”