“My trusty maids,” she said, “cut off my red gold hair, dress me like an envoy to a prince and prepare for me a heroic steed. I go now as ambassador from Kodol Island to Prince Vladimir, the Fair Sun of Kiev, asking the hand of his daughter Lovely in honourable marriage.”
In a short space of time she was ready, shorn and dressed like a goodly gallant and a prince’s envoy. Then they brought her heroic steed, and she rode off, surrounded by a brave body-guard of forty youths of the stoutest, across the open, boundless glorious plain, and as she rode she trilled a merry song.
Half of the journey was accomplished when the party met a rider whose face was sternly set towards the city of Chernigof. They greeted him courteously, and reining in his horse he asked the leader of the party who he was and where he was going.
“I am the ambassador of King Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich,” was the answer, “and I am on my way to collect tribute from any princes who value their lives above roubles. Whither away, yourself?”
“I am the messenger of Prince Vladimir,” returned the other, “and I am on my way to lock the doors of Stavr’s palace of white stone, and to conduct his young wife Vasilissa to Kiev town.”
‘She put her good steed to the walls the leapt lightly over them’
“You are too late,” said the youths of the bodyguard, “for the Lady Vasilissa has left the palace of her husband and has gone away to a distant land.”
The messenger thanked the young men for their news, and turning his steed, rode swiftly back to Kiev town, where he informed his royal master that an ambassador from the stern King Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich was on his way, with a strong body-guard, to collect tribute from any prince who valued his life above roubles. At this intelligence Vladimir was sorely troubled, but gave orders that the streets of Kiev should be cleaned without delay, and that logs of wood should be placed across the muddy holes, so that a fair passage might be afforded to the body-guard.
When Vasilissa reached the outskirts of Kiev town she put her good steed to the walls and leapt lightly over them into the courtyard of Vladimir’s palace of white stone. Then she leapt from her horse, thrust the butt end of her spear into moist Mother Earth, and flung the bridle over the point. With the stride of a bold envoy she passed the guards without greeting, and came into the royal hall, where she bowed to North, South, East, and West, and especially to Prince Vladimir. Then she turned to the Prince, and making known her name as Vasily Mikulich, the envoy of King Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich, she demanded the hand of Prince Vladimir’s daughter Lovely in honourable marriage. The Prince looked earnestly at the bold wooer and then said: