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Updated: June 17, 2025
And Koshchei happened to notice Earth once upon a time, with your forefathers walking about it exultant in the enormity of their sins and in the terrible punishments they expected in requital. Now Koshchei will do almost anything to humor pride, because to be proud is one of the two things that are impossible to Koshchei.
Koshchei the Deathless was returning home when his good steed stumbled beneath him. 'Why stumblest thou? Scentest thou any ill? 'Prince Ivan has come and has carried off Marya Morevna. Koshchei galloped off, caught Prince Ivan, chopped him into little pieces, put them into a barrel, smeared it with pitch and bound it with iron hoops, and flung it into the blue sea.
"And Me also Koshchei created at that time, with the seraphim and the saints and all the blessed, very much as you see us: and, of course, he caused us to have been here always, since the beginning of time, because that, too, was in the book." "But how could that be done?" says Jurgen, with brows puckering. "And in what way could Koshchei juggle so with time?"
Ivan, seeing the irreparable loss of the egg, burst into tears, when suddenly the pike came swimming ashore, holding the egg between its teeth. He took the egg, broke it, drew out the needle and broke off its little point. Then he attacked Koshchei, who struggled hard, but wriggle about as he might he had to die at last. Then Ivan went into the house of Koshchei, took Vasilisa, and returned home.
So he was pleased, oh, very much pleased: and after he had had his laugh out, he created Hell extempore, and made it just such a place as your forefathers imagined it ought to be, in order to humor the pride of your forefathers." "And why is pride impossible to Koshchei?" "Because he made things as they are; and day and night he contemplates things as they are, having nothing else to look at.
"Messire Horvendile, if you are attempting to joke about Koshchei who made all things as they are, I warn you I do not consider that sort of humor very wholesome. Without being prudish, I believe in common-sense: and I would vastly prefer to have you talk about something else." Horvendile was still smiling. "You look some day to come to Koshchei, as you call the Author.
Then Satan, sitting erect and bleak in his tall marble chair, explained how he, and all the domain and all the infernal hierarchies he ruled, had been created extempore by Koshchei, to humor the pride of Jurgen's forefathers. "For they were exceedingly proud of their sins.
"But stay," said Koshchei: "what is that which comes into this woman's eyes as she speaks of her children?" They told him it was love. "Did I create this love?" says Koshchei, who made things as they are.
"But how may I come to him, grandmother?" "Oh, as to that, it does not matter at all which road you follow. All highways, as the saying is, lead roundabout to Koshchei. The one thing needful is not to stand still. This much I will tell you also for your song's sake, because that was an excellent song, and nobody ever made a song in praise of me before to-day."
How, then, can Koshchei be proud?" "I see. It is as if I were imprisoned in a cell wherein there was nothing, absolutely nothing, except my verses. I shudder to think of it! But what is this other thing which is impossible to Koshchei?" "I do not know. It is something that does not enter into Hell."
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