Below is the first part of my translation of a play in verse called Fedot the Strelets, written in the 1980s by the late actor and poet Leonid Filatov. If you would like to find out more about this play and read the rest of my translation, please get in touch.
LEONID FILATOV
FEDOT THE STRELETS,
THE BOLDEST AND BEST
Based on elements of Russian folklore
Translated by Huw Davies ©
CHARACTERS
The Jester-Buffoon
Fedot
Marusya
The Tsar
The Tsarevna
Nanny
The General
Baba Yaga
The Voice
Tit Kuzmich and Frol Fomich – two strapping, first-rate chaps
Ambassadors, guards, the royal retinue, the people
The Jester
Some may believe it, others may not, but once upon a time there lived Fedot the Strelets, the boldest and best. Fedot was neither handsome, nor plain; neither ruddy of cheek, nor pale and wan; neither rich, nor poor; neither well-dressed, nor one of the roughs and the scruffs; in general he was just – well, just so – you know? Fedot’s duties revolved around fishing and hunting. If the Tsar received his poultry and fish, Fedot could take a bow and do as he wished. The Tsar’s palace was always teeming with foreign guests. Here a Swede, there a Greek, and over there – a native Hawaiian…and good food was needed for them all! Lobster, squid, a plate of sardines…only one huntsman would answer the call! One day Fedot received an order: to appear in the Tsar’s court at first light. Now, the Tsar was not good-looking, I cannot dissemble: a morel mushroom he resembled, with a jutting jaw and a head, bald and round, but his capacity for wickedness knew no bounds. He stared at Fedot the way a man with a stomach ulcer looks at a radish. Fedot was sweating so much that his shirt became drenched, his head was hammering, his stomach rumbled as if full of ale, and it’s at this precise point that we begin our tale…
The Tsar
Soon the English diplomat
We’ll host for a breakfast chat.
All we have by way of food is
Crusts and bones and things like that.
Go out hunting once again;
Something edible obtain –
Find a wood-grouse or a partridge,
Anything that’s not too plain.
If it’s fruitless, this next shift,
Well…your end will be quite swift.
Who else would there be to punish?
Do you think you catch my drift?
Fedot
Does he think that I can’t spot
What it means, this job I’ve got..?
I am quick to grasp the nettle!
I’m a guy who knows what’s what!
So it all comes down to me,
Our whole foreign policy:
If I don’t procure a partridge,
There’ll be war – just wait and see.
So as not to aggravate
Our guest with an empty plate –
I’ll do all that’s in my power,
I’ll make sure the banquet’s great!
The Jester
The Tsar’s word is final: there can be no answering back. If he sends you off to fetch a bear, although you may not think it fair, you go and do it, so Fedya cannot run and hide, he must stand up and be counted. Either he brings poultry and fish when he comes back, or he’ll face the sword and the rack. So off he goes; and though he tramps through umpteen forests and marshes, he can’t find a single partridge or grouse! He is tired, his strength is drained, and the night is drawing in. His bag may be empty, but it’s time to head home. Then suddenly he spots a bird – a wood-pigeon – sitting on a branch, gazing fearlessly at Fedot’s firearm and making no attempt to hide…
Fedot
Oh good grief, there’s trouble now,
Not the slightest trace of fowl.
Might as well shoot down that pigeon,
Though the Tsar will only scowl!
Overall though, I confess,
Pigeons get an unfair press.
Pigeons – when they’re marinated –
Taste as good as grouse, no less..!
The Pigeon
Don’t lay hands on me, Fedot,
That won’t help your cause one jot,
For my down won’t fill your pillows,
And my flesh won’t fill the pot!
Come, that foreign chap – I’ve seen –
Loves a nice fresh galantine.
And what meat could I provide you?
It’s a joke – I’m far too lean..!
Fedot
Either that’s a wood-goblin,
Or the air here’s drunk as sin,
Or my ears are playing tricks and
Made me think I heard something?
Or a new law’s been decreed,
From the royal balcony,
That from now on, in their dealings,
Birds must have the pow’r of speech!
The Pigeon
Come, why cause an ugly scene?
Take me with you, don’t be mean.
If you put me in your satchel,
Fate will make of me your queen.
Sew and cook and wash, I will,
Scold you not when treated ill,
Just for you I’ll play the fiddle,
All the bugs and mites I’ll kill..!
Fedot
I’m confused, I can’t keep track..!
Go on then, get in my sack!
Maybe this will make sense later,
Once we’ve made the journey back!
The Jester
Fedot took the turtledove back home, to his humble room. He sat down feeling glum, and hung his head. And it was no wonder Fedot felt such pain: all that hunting had been in vain. The Tsar was not a man who messed around: “Off with his head!” the shout would resound. Fedot sat there feeling gloomy, and began to bid the world goodbye. Then he remembered the bird – the woodpigeon. But what’s this: in the middle of his room, where once that dove had been, there now stood a beautiful maiden, a fine figure of a woman, a queen..!
Marusya
Hello, Fedya! You and me –
We are now a family.
I’m your wife, my dear – Marusya!
I’m a loving spouse for thee!
Why so quiet, dear Fedot?
Gosh, what puffed out cheeks you’ve got!
Does my hat not take your fancy?
Don’t you like my dress a lot?
Fedot
Oh my soul, eternally
I could gladly gaze at thee,
But – to one day be thy husband?
I’ve got no chance, verily!
This day, too early by far,
I was called before the Tsar,
Well, the Tsar gave me a mission:
Fetch a partridge – there we are.
Though the hunting season’s gone,
Chatting back to Tsars ain’t on:
Fine, I thought, I’ll nab him something,
Birds ain’t bison, can’t go wrong.
Morn’ till night I marched at pace,
Any joy? No, not a trace:
Not a single proper birdie –
Just some tweeting wastes of space..!
I’m so down, I’ve got the blues,
Put away those dancing shoes.
At first light, for this fiasco,
This young head I’m going to lose.
And without it I’ve no clue,
With the troops or here with you,
I’ll be useless, for my strength is
In my intellect – it’s true..!
Marusya
Don’t you grumble, don’t you scowl!
There’ll be feasting, there’ll be fowl!
Tit Kuzmich and Frol Fomich, please
Show yourselves before me now!
Marusya slaps her palm, and two strapping young men appear.
Since the order’s understood –
Execute it, if you would!
The First-Rate Chaps
Don’t you doubt it for a moment,
We’re not novices, we’re good!
The Jester
The Tsar and the consul have already sat down to table. Alongside them – as pretty as ever! – sit Nanny and the young Tsarevna. And all of them are waiting for Fedya and the promised banquet. How can one engage in repartee and banter, when there’s no food on the table, no wine in the decanter? The table really looks quite bare: just carrots, cabbage, dill and parsley there! The guest’s getting bored: his jackboot is twitching with wrath, and he is fingering the holes in the tablecloth. The Tsar is furious, and starts to curse Fedot under his breath. Suddenly, from out of the blue: there’s a big loaf of bread, and caviar too; stewed turkey, sterlet soup, and some innards of veal…and thousands of other dishes, it’s simply unreal! With food like this on which to sup, the conversation naturally livened up.
The Tsar
You’ll enlighten me, no doubt,
On the techniques you’ve worked out:
How do your folks plant their turnips –
With the rind on, or without?
Ambassador
Yes!
The Tsar
You’ll enlighten me, no doubt,
This I must find out about:
How do your folks drink their cocoa –
With some sugar, or without?
Ambassador
Yes!
The Tsar
You’ll enlighten me, no doubt,
This I often think about:
How do women dress where you’re from –
Wearing trousers, or without?
Ambassador
Yes!
Nanny
Have you got no shame, or what?
You’ve completely lost the plot..!
For wherever you hold forth, you
Always talk of girls, you clot!
The Tsar
You’ve piped up again, I see!
Mind I hold the prison key!
I’m not just a chatterbox, girl,
I’m in charge of policy!
Our girl came of age, of late,
And, though she is overweight,
We could give her to the consul,
If we did it would be great!
It depends how deft we are,
Reeling in this consul, yah..!
Keep him sweet and make allusions,
Tongue-in-cheek, and from afar.
Nanny
Even I’d not be seen dead
In that consul’s marriage bed.
What to pilfer from the table –
That’s the question in his head!
‘Yes’ and ‘yes’ the man repeats,
All the while more food he eats.
Turn your back, and half of Rus he’s
Eaten, ’ere the change of seats!
The Tsar
That’s enough from you today,
Else I’ll send you on your way!
You’ve already frightened senseless
Every foreign attaché!
When that Spanish grandee stopped,
Quite the dandy! Quite the fop!
Diamonds in both his earholes –
Why’d you think him not much cop?
You made sure he couldn’t fail
To sit down upon a nail,
And from then on our poor guest was
Diplomatically railed!
Nanny
I remember! That grandee
Loved his grub most heartily:
In his plate he dipped his forehead,
Ringed in grease for all to see!
Much I asked of that grandee –
‘Si, si’ he’d fart back at me,
While he fixed his concentration
Mostly on his iwashi!
The Tsar
For this nonsense that you spout,
By your hair I’ll throw you out.
What I say must not be laughed at,
I’m quite serious, you lout!
When that German baron came,
Flawless in his handsome frame,
Even he was made to pay, you
Tricked him with a nasty game.
Who a dying mouse did lug
In that gentleman’s beer-mug?
You’re a downright evildoer,
You’re a damned, accursed thug..!
Nanny
That old baron, as it goes,
Was a thief, sir – heaven knows!
Put him with some crows – a murder –
And he’d nick food from the crows!
‘Ja’ said he, ‘ja’ – quite a prig,
But as greedy as a pig,
Give him straw and straw he’d guzzle,
He just didn’t care a fig!
The Tsar
Just you wait, you woman-spy!
In a prison cell you’ll fry.
Mostly I’m a kindly fellow,
Wreckers, though, I can’t abide.
You’re aware, I must presume:
Our Tsarevna needs a groom!
Well, you see it for yourself dear,
Hosts of men don’t haunt her room!
If they flocked here in their ranks –
I could understand your pranks.
But, since not, just grab the nearest,
Be he but a wolf from Briansk!
The Tsarevna
Since in Russia you’re the boss,
Rule her gently, don’t get cross!
But in my affairs don’t meddle,
Your advice is always dross!
Here on every floor at home,
Hundreds of attachés roam,
It’s a struggle to keep breathing
Amid their Eau de Cologne.
The Tsar
Since love’s truly so unfair,
You’ll love the attaché – there!
And, in doing so, you’ll help me
Iron out a trade affair.
I, to make my end hold good,
Plan to send them hemp and wood,
All the world approves this trade-off,
Why can’t you? I wish you would..!
The Tsarevna
You may curse and knit your brow,
I’ve said umpteen times, ’ere now:
Individuals are entitled
To love just as they choose how!
I can name a certain thing
That might bring a wedding ring –
If someone proposed – d’you know who..?
Strelets Fedot – dear young thing!
The Tsar
Fie, what nonsense..! Shut your face..!
By now you should know your place!
Go and study, at the double,
Your sol-fa…you young disgrace!
As for that damn Strelets lad,
Rude and impudent and bad,
With the lash and with my jackboots
I shall chase him off, by gad!
The Jester
Now, the Tsar had a general in his service, part of whose remit was to gather intelligence. The general would hide his face in his beard, and stalk the city’s streets. He would sniff out, the dirty dog, those not thinking the way they ought. He eavesdropped on people’s conversations, just in case plots were taking root. Anything suspicious went straight in his notebook. Then at seven on the dot he reported to the Tsar.
The Tsar
General, what’s eating you?
Did the measles get you, too?
Overdid it with the vodka?
Lost a game of cards or two?
Is your job no fun at all?
Is the army far too small?
Did you, when you cleaned your cannon,
Find a broken shaft or ball?
Spit it out man, tell me true,
What it is that’s troubling you –
Fill me in on all the details,
How and whither, what and who!
The General
I’ve been at that hunter’s home,
Bold Fedot as he is known,
And I noticed his fiancée –
Knock me down, well I’ll be blown!
Three days now – I tell no lie! –
On my sword I’ve not laid eye,
And my dreaminess is such that
Any moment I might die!
And, a while back, things got worse –
I was spouting lines of verse!
All the docs were terrified – they
Said it was the lover’s curse!
The Tsar
So he took her for his own..!
Whilst I’m widowed and alone!
Well then, let this stunning beauty
To the palace gates be shown!
As for that sly young Strelets,
Here’s the treatment that he gets:
Wipe him off the face of Earth, man,
So the world that lad forgets!
The General
Grabbing her will be a cinch,
But the plebs won’t give an inch:
Once they find out who has nabbed her,
They’ll come here and you’ll be lynched!
They’re an angry bunch out there,
Bite your fingers off, beware –
For Fedot we feel no pity,
But the people – au contraire!
The Tsar
Are you such a flaming clot
Just on Saturdays, or what?
You’re a minister – why can’t you
Understand a simple plot?
So the people – all those chaps –
Don’t start opening their traps,
Make sure that it’s all above-board,
That is, keep it…under wraps.
You’ll find your reward quite fun –
A new medal you’ll have won:
Our best smiths are working on it –
By the morn’ it will be done..!
The Jester
The general racked his brains all day. He broke out in a sweat, as he tried to think up ways of getting rid of the Strelets. The strain told on his mind, and his thinking went awry. But then he remembered his old friend, Baba Yaga – old Bone-Leg herself. I’ll go and see her, she’s brainier than me..! Sure enough, Yaga was there in the oak wood collecting herbs, and cooking up all sorts of poisons. When she saw the general, she forgot all about her herbarium – she’d grown so lonely out here, with no friends or loved ones around..!
Yaga
Something’s wrong, you’re not yerself!
You’ve no flush of life or ’ealf!
Are the Swedes in Petersburg? Is
Moscow lost to Turkish stealf?
Come and eat this aspen bark –
The improvement will be stark:
Ain’t no chemicals in ’ere, love,
Nature’s gifts, that’s all – good lark!
Gen’ral, drink this juice – you should!
It’s got minerals, it’s good!
Lots of generals have tried it;
None of them have died, touch wood..!
The General
Quit it, woman...! I’m not sick..!
Come behind this hillock, quick..!
Shoo those hedgehogs off, and squirrels,
We must talk for just a tick.
Back at home there’s this Strelets –
Real sly fellow, damnèd wretch..!
And it’s me that got the order:
That lad’s death the Tsar expects!
Knock his block off..? That won’t do –
It would cause too much to-do!
That’s why I now seek your counsel:
How to kill him? What say you..?
Yaga
Spells of old folks will do fine,
Three a-side and none of thine,
Ace of diamonds, pine wood coffin,
On this Strelets – what’s thy line?
Since he’s zealous and quite sly –
Rows with Tsars don’t make him shy –
Let him find, before the morn’, a
Golden rug – and don’t ask why!
It must show, without a gap,
Our whole country, like a map.
Well, and if he can’t procure it –
He’ll have fallen in the trap..!
The General
Oh yes, woman! What a wench!
There’s an end to trouble’s stench!
We shall drag you from your mortar –
Plonk you right on the front bench!
‘Bout the Germans we’ve some fears,
It could all end up in tears,
But, with you on board, no task’s too
Daunting! So, for you – three cheers!
I shall pay you back in kind:
Beavers, maybe martens, find,
Or, if you prefer – in coinage,
Gold or silver, I don’t mind..!
Yaga
That’s enough dear, it’s a sin,
Put your coins back in the tin –
I don’t do this for the money,
But for inner peace, within!
If more strife should come your way –
Hurry here love, come what may.
I won’t bite, I’m here to help you,
For forever and a day..!
The Jester
The Tsar summons the Strelets, the boldest and best. He’s not yet given him his orders, but already he’s fuming with rage. His hands are twitching, his knees are knocking, he’s rolling his eyes…in short, he’s quite a terrifying sight. With every bone of his body he aches to see Fedot’s demise!
The Tsar
Fetch a rug, by dawn’s first light –
In gold patterns sewn up tight..!
It’s a governmental matter –
You had better get it right!
It should show, without a gap,
Our whole country, like a map,
For the view I’ve got at present,
From my balcony, is crap!
If you can’t find what I’ve said –
It will come down on your head,
We’ll arrange an execution,
To the axe-man you’ll be fed!
The Jester
Fedot heads home, struck dumb with grief. He sits down in the corner and stares at the ceiling, his bright eyes filling with tears. Marusya calls him to the table, but he hangs his neck and doesn’t want a thing, he just snivels and whimpers…
Marusya
Why so prickly, hedgehog dear?
You’ve not touched your food or beer!
Did I overcook the porridge?
Does your jellied meat taste queer?
Fedot
This food’s neither here nor there!
It’s the Tsar – he’s so unfair!
Nothing’s stopping that old man, no
Judge or justice anywhere!
Fetch, he cries, a rug I’ll own,
In gold thread it must be sewn.
It should be the width of Rus, with
All the lakes and forests shown..!
Marusya
Don’t you grieve and snivel, dear!
Yes, he’s mean, but have no fear!
Tit Kuzmich and Frol Fomich, come,
Show yourselves before me here..!
Marusya strikes her palm – and the two strapping young men appear.
Since the order’s understood –
Execute it, if you would!
The First-Rate Chaps
Don’t you doubt it for a moment,
We’re not novices, we’re good!
The Jester
At dawn Fedot stands waiting at the Tsar’s gates. He has come to be received, and has brought with him a rug. He stands there with a smile on his face, showing no fear of the guards. The Tsar is so surprised he almost chokes on his caviar. He feels sick with rage, but he doesn’t want to show it. So he pretends to look pleased..!
Fedot
I have brought that rug for you, –
It’s the least that I could do.
All’s as stated in the contract –
Both the image and the hue.
All of Russia, left to right,
It depicts in colors bright.
Please accept it as a present,
My wife knocked it up last night!
The Tsar
Hah, your wife?! You young hot shot!
Just how many have you got?
Did you wed a knitting unit,
All of them at once, or what?!
Yes, your wife is clever, sure,
But the facts you can’t ignore!
Sewing that thing in one night would
Take a whole platoon or more!
Fedot
Does the rug not please your eye?
Are there faults in the design?
Then I’ll roll it up and leave you –
Let’s not waste each other’s time!
Mostly I’d not give a damn…
All that work though, understand!
I shall sell it to the merchants,
For export to Amsterdam!
The Tsar
I should lash you brutally,
With three lashes – three times three –
Just to stop you making fun of
Serious old men like me!
But, since I’m a peaceful man,
Law-abiding, understand –
Here’s some cash for buying vodka.
Now get out while you still can..!
The Jester
The Tsar calls the general – right now he’d love to push a pin through the man’s visor! The Tsar’s face has turned as red as a beetroot, and when his face is red – he’s dangerous. He won’t strike more than once, but when he does, he’ll make it count. The general knows this only too well: he’s been wearing an eye-patch since the start of our tale..!
The Tsar
What's your verdict on today?
Just a fluke, I hear you say?
But that little fluke will last for
Five whole years at least, I’d say!
Yes, you may be big and strong,
But your head is not screwed on.
Maybe prison grub will cure you –
I’m sure we’ll find out, ’ere long!
The General
I’d take prison any day,
For whatever term you say –
I can take no more of this lark,
It’s not me in any way!
Horses, sabers – that is me,
Charging at the enemy!
All these endless courtly intrigues –
They are not my cup of tea!
The Tsar
Could you please, your nobleness,
Talk of war a little less?
Think up a non-violent way to
Make Fedot a bloody mess!
And, if such a fool you’ll be –
Don’t blame someone else, or me:
Else you’ll get a knuckle-sandwich,
From my own fist, pers’nally..!
The Jester
The general was wrong to wipe his hands of this fiasco: he’d failed in his mission to bump off Fedot. Once again the poor chap’s racking his brains. But is there a single useful thought in his head..? He thought and thought but came up with nothing. Whichever way you looked at the matter – Yaga’s help was required! He charged off again to the oak wood, to seek a poison that might work on Fedot.
Yaga
What foul temper, look at you!
What’s to blame, or rather, who?
Are the Shpanish shipsh invading?
Have the French waged war on you?
Here’s some jelly made from mould!
Never tried it? Weren’t you told?
Eat it and you’ll soon forget your
Worldly cares – well, are you sold?
Don’t taste great, I have to say,
Takes the shivers, though, away,
You’ll be better by the morning,
If you make it through today..!
The General
It’s about that lad again!
My woes never seem to end!
That’s the reason I’m so sickly
And pale-faced, I would contend.
Just how cunning must he be –
He has duped us splendidly!
All those spells that you put on him,
But he found that rug, you see!
Though a dimwit at first glance,
He’s got brains – it can’t be chance.
So, from now on, please try harder,
Make your spells much more advanced!
Yaga
Spells of old folks will do fine,
Three-a-side and none of thine,
Ace of diamonds, pine wood coffin,
On this Strelets – what’s thy line?
So!.. Egge!.. Ugu!.. Aga!..
Here’s the verdict from Yaga:
Let him hunt us down a deer then,
With a golden horn, haha..!
Let him search for evermore,
No such deer exist, for sure.
This I’m telling you, my friend, as
One who knows the local lore!..
The Jester
The Tsar summons the Strelets, the boldest and best. Fedot’s scarcely had time to mop his brow, but already the evil Tsar has another trick in store for him. The Tsar is seething with rage, and Fedka’s soaked in sweat! Fedka’s woe and grief is worse than a bitter radish..!
The Tsar
Lazybones, ditch that glum sneer!
You’ve a trip to make, d’you hear?
It’s a governmental matter –
Urgently we need a deer!
Since the tsar’s serf you were born –
Search those hills and woods forlorn,
Hunt me down a deer, d’you follow?
One that has a golden horn.
Don’t you sniffle through your snout,
Find that deer, just seek it out.
Or a head will fly from shoulders,
It’s your head I’m on about..!
The Jester
Fedot trudged home, with snot all round his nose! He sat under the light, and his grief was quite a sight. His gorgeous wife threw herself around his neck, but from Fedot there was no response! He sat there and sobbed – he was full of grief..!
Marusya
You look like the hornéd-owl!
Why so mournful, why the scowl?
Is your soup a bit too salty?
Does the peppered steak taste foul?
Fedot
Ach, that’s neither here nor there!
It’s the Tsar – it’s so unfair!
At first light, again, I’ll have to
Face up to his evil stare!
He’s so fierce it’s just untrue –
I’ve another task to do:
‘Find a deer for me,’ he bellows,
‘With a gold horn’ – I ask you..!
Marusya
Don’t you grieve about this glitch!
Soon that sadness you will ditch!
Come on, show yourselves before me,
Tit Kuzmich and Frol Fomich!
Marusya slaps her palm, and the two strapping young men appear.
Since the order’s understood –
Execute it, if you would!
The First-Rate Chaps
Don’t you doubt it for a moment –
We’re not novices, we’re good..!
The Jester
At first light Fedot stood by the Tsar’s gates. He had come to be received, and he had with him a deer. When the Tsar clapped eyes on it, his head began to throb with an almighty rage. He longed to crush this nit, but didn’t show it – not a bit. He sat there and yawned, and tried to hide his rage..!
Fedot
Tired of waiting, then? What cheer?
Take a look outside, right here!
Since it was a deer you asked for –
Well then, there it is, your deer!
And – if you could look this way –
See, its horn shines like a flame,
With its gleaming, golden light it
Turns the night-time into day..!
The Tsar
No such deer roam anywhere!
Not in Tula, nor in Tver!
What of Tver – go search Baghdad, there’s
Three at most, man, even there!
Come on, soldier, think a tad –
Where lies Moscow, where Baghdad?!
Did you last night make the journey,
There and back? Don’t make me mad..!
Fedot
I don’t know what’s wrong with you!
What’s a man supposed to do?
All that torment that you caused me:
‘Find a deer, I want you to!’
Since you’re rich enough – how sad!
I’ll return it to Baghdad.
Who’s the chap in charge there these days?
I don’t doubt that he’ll be glad!
The Tsar
All this you had better stop,
Or your head will get the chop.
All your hints – I see right through them,
From the bottom to the top!
I’m a peaceful ruler, though,
I’m no tyrant – Heavens, no.
Here’s five roubles for some vodka,
Pocket that, and off you go…!
The Jester
So the Tsar decreed that the general be dragged from his bed, and summoned to see him. The general’s in a panic – he can’t find his long-johns! He knows full well he’s not being invited round for tea!
The Tsar sits on his throne, looking cross with the whole world. He’s black with rage – like a raven in a grave-yard...!
The Tsar
Well, despite your cunning ruse,
Fedot we contrived to lose!
Your obituary, you scoundrel,
Will soon feature in the news!
So, what’s left for me to do?
Think how best to deal with you:
Box your ears with candelabra,
Or with cushions smother you..?
The General
Sorry, sir, I failed the test!
Here’s a saber – do the rest!
Rather that than see that lad keep
Making me a nervous mess!
Yes, I’m stupid – I shan’t bluff!
I am made of different stuff!
I’d much rather join the fighting –
Storm a village somewhere rough...!
The Tsar
You’re a fighter, as you said,
You must grasp this though, instead:
That Fedot will not be captured
With your sword, but with your head!
And if your results aren’t great,
As they haven’t been of late,
Then the axe-man will be ready;
I’ll be present too – can’t wait!
The Jester
Our poor fool racked his brains once again. And to tell the truth, there wasn’t much to rack. He thought and he thought, but he couldn’t think up anything. He whistled to his pack of dogs and headed off to see Yaga in the oak wood. When Yaga saw him coming, she leapt up and flew to the Urals. Then she came to her senses and went back – for better or worse...!
Yaga
What’s with you, you’re not yerself!
Careful, you could wreck yer ’ealf!
There’s a cold sore on your lip there –
I blame this polit’cal stealf!
Why not try this rabbit dung?
It works wonders – you’ll feel young!
It’s more powerful than honey,
Though less soothing on the tongue.
Though it has a super taste,
Several souls it’s laid to waste.
But for those who do survive it –
They will fully live life’s race!
The General
Don’t confound me, you old witch!
Give me your next business pitch!
Think up ways to get Fedot there
Buried in some earthy ditch!
You tried hard, I could have sworn,
Though the Tsar’s now full of scorn!
Young Fedot a deer delivered,
Topped off with a precious horn!
So it’s clear, the task for thee:
Make your spells more magicy!
This young Strelets, as it happens,
Isn’t utterly brain-free..!
Yaga
I’m quite crafty, I must say –
I cast spells the evil way.
But right now it’s just not happ’nin,
I’ve been struggling all day!
I’ve got awful stabbing pains,
And I think my chest’s inflamed..!
I suspect encephalitis
Is the illness to be blamed!
Oh these dreadful aches of mine!
Hear that crunchin’ in my spine?
In a word, I’m on the sick list,
And all work I shall decline!