But Víťazko could not be angry, neither could he weep, for he had no heart. So he had to go and get it. Holy Sunday gave him a fiddle and sent him to the castle. He was to play on the fiddle, and, as a reward, was to ask for the heart, and, when he got it, he must return at once to Holy Sunday—those were her orders.
Víťazko went to the castle, and when he saw that his mother was looking out of the window, he began playing beautifully. The mother was delighted with the music below, so she called the old fiddler (for Holy Sunday had put that shape upon him) into the castle and asked him to play. He played, and the mother danced with the griffin; they danced hard, and did not stop until they were tired. Then the mother gave the fiddler meat and drink, and she offered him gold, but he would not take it.
“What could I do with all that money? I am too old for it,” he answered.
“Well, what am I to give you, then? It is for you to ask,” said the mother.
“What are you to give me?” said he, looking round the room. “Oh! give me that heart, hanging there from the crossbeam!”
“If you like that, we can give it to you,” said the griffin, and the mother took it down and gave it to Víťazko. He thanked them for it, and hastened from the castle to Holy Sunday.
“It is lucky that we have got it again,” said Holy Sunday; and she took the heart in her hands, washed it first in the Water of Death and afterwards in the Water of Life, and then she put it in the bill of the Pelican bird. The bird stretched out his long neck and replaced the heart in Víťazko’s breast. At once Víťazko felt it joyfully leaping. And for this service Holy Sunday gave the Pelican bird his freedom again.
And now she said to Víťazko: “You must go once more to the castle and deal out justice. Take the form of a pigeon and, when you think of me, you will regain your own shape.”
No sooner had she said this than Víťazko was changed into a pigeon, and away he flew to the castle. The mother and the griffin were caressing each other when suddenly a pigeon alighted on the window-sill. As soon as the mother saw the pigeon she sent the griffin to shoot him, but before the griffin could get hold of his crossbow the pigeon flew down into the hall, took human form, seized the sword and cut the griffin’s head off at a stroke.
“And what am I to do with thee, thou good-for-nothing mother?” he said, turning to his mother, who in terror fell at his feet begging for mercy. “Do not be afraid—I will not do you any harm. Let God judge between us.” He took her hand and led her to the castle yard, unsheathed his sword, and said: “Behold, mother! I will throw this sword into the air. If I am guilty, it will strike me; if you are guilty, it is you it will strike. Let God decide.”