“But I have sea-smiths here,” said His Watery Majesty, “who can mend a broken pearl, so that it would be an easy thing for them to restore a harp-string.”
“All the sea-smiths of your ocean realm,” said Sadko, “could not revive music that is lost. That can only be done in Holy Russia, when the maker of the music comes once more to his own home.”
“Talk not of land kingdoms,” said the Tsar, whirling round Sadko in the hope of regaining the step which he had lost, but finding it impossible to dance without music. “Stay with me and wed some beautiful sea-maiden. Take your choice from the maids in the train of my queen.”
Seeing that he was in the power of the Water Tsar, Sadko promised to do so, and asked the advice of the quiet-eyed Water Tsaritza, who gave it in her own compelling voice, so that Sadko felt that it was a command. “Do not choose,” she said, “any sea-maid from the first three hundred which the Tsar will marshal before you, but let them pass by in all their beauty. Do not choose from the second three hundred, but let them pass in all their loveliness. But from the third three hundred choose the Princess who shall come last of all, and who is smaller and blacker than all the rest. But when you have chosen her do not kiss her, for if you do, you shall never more dwell in Holy Russia, nor see the fair white world and the round and ruddy sun.”
Therefore Sadko allowed the first three hundred maidens to pass him by in all their beauty; and he let the second three hundred pass him by in all their loveliness; but from the third three hundred he chose the Princess who came last of all, and who was smaller and blacker than all the rest. But when he chose her he did not kiss her, for he longed once more to dwell in Holy Russia, to see the fair white world and the round and ruddy sun.
At the wedding feast the Water Tsar made a great banquet, after which Sadko lay down and fell into a heavy sleep; and when he awoke he found himself on the steep banks of a river near Novgorod. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and saw far away on the Volkof river his fleet of bright-red ships with their sails of fair white linen on the decks of which his men were standing thoughtful, thinking of Sadko in the depths of the deep-blue sea. But when they saw their master standing upon the steep bank, they rubbed their eyes in astonishment. Then they hailed him, and took him on board with great rejoicing. He carried with him a broken harp, and lo, as he entered his palace and saw his young wife again the harp-strings were suddenly restored to all their strength and flexibility, and the body of maple-wood rang as sound as the great bell of St. Sophia.
Thenceforth Sadko sailed no more upon seas, either blue or grey, but lived at home in Novgorod the Great, and delighted all with the golden tones of his harp of maple-wood.
The stove was growing cold, the black-browed maiden rose to her feet, and stretching herself to ease her limbs stooped tenderly to wrap the great mantle of sables more closely about the widow mother of Vasily the Turbulent, who murmured gently but not complainingly, “Yet Sadko came home again.”
“We thank you for your tale, maiden,” said the brave bodyguard of Vasily. Then they went to their rest; and on the next day they sought out the men of Novgorod, and the Sea Trader told them of new routes for rich merchandise which their turbulent lord had opened out for their enrichment; and they equipped the brave bodyguard with more scarlet ships to go out again upon those routes and win more glory for Novgorod the Great.
As for Vasily, they made a great image of him, and set it up in their market, telling all men how his valour had earned for him the praise of all his townsmen.