Three days merchant's daughter
Nataša collapses;
It is at courtyard on the third night
Without memory ran.
Issues of father and mother
Natasha began to start.
Natasha does not hear,
Shaking and barely breathing.
mother grieve, father grieved,
For a long time proceeded,
And stepped back finally,
A mystery is not learned.
she began, how was,
again rouge, cheerful,
Again I went to the sisters
Sitting at the gate.
Once at the gate plank,
With their girlfriends,
I am sitting girl - and now
Promchalas before them
Dashing threesome with a stiff upper lip.
horses, indoor carpet,
The sleigh he standing rules
And drives all, and presses.
is he, drew level, looked,
Natasha pohlyadela,
He flew past the whirlwind,
Natasha pomertvela.
She runs headlong home.
“is he! he! I learned! - He speaks, —
is he, though he! keep,
My friends, save!”
Sadly listens family,
shake their heads;
her father: “My dearest,
Open up before me.
Who offended you, tell,
Although only a trace of our prefilled”.
Natasha cried again.
And more than a word.
The next morning the matchmaker to them on the yard
Nezhdanov comes.
Natasha praises, conversation
With her father starts:
“You have products, we have a merchant;
Himself fellow man,
And stately, and agile,
not quarrelsome, not ashamed of.
rich, clever, to anyone
Do not bow to the waist,
And as the lord meanwhile
Lives, without worrying:
And give the bride suddenly
And the fox fur coat, and pearls,
And gold rings,
And brocade dress.
riding, he saw yesterday
Her gates;
Do not hand, to a yard,
Yes to church with images?”
She sits at a pie,
Yes it is circumlocutions,
A poor bride
Currently sees no place.
“I agree, - says father; —
Go safely,
My Natasha, under crown:
In one little room bored.
Not century devicej vekovatʹ,
Not all orca sing,
It's time to make a nest,
To lie down detushek”.
Natasha put her up against the wall
And I want to say a word -
suddenly burst into tears, shook,
And crying and laughing.
In turmoil matchmaker for her running,
Poyt icy water
And pour the rest of the bowl
On Natasha's head.
Krushitsya, gasps family.
Natasha came to her senses
And says: “obedient January,
Your holy will.
Call the groom to the wedding,
Bake the bread for the whole world,
The glory of the honey brew,
The court to call pir”.
“if you please, Natasha, my angel!
Finished in you party
I give life!” - And feast;
bake, cook on glory.
Here visitors find honest,
To table the bride led;
sing girlfriend, cry,
But the sleigh and jump.
Here and groom - and all at the table.
rings, rattle glasses,
Grace-bucket circle went;
all noisy, drunk guests.
groom.
“And what, dear friends,
Bride red is my
Do not drink, does not eat, It does not serve:
What bride tuzhit?”
The bride groom in response:
“Open for good luck.
My soul no rest,
And day, and night I cry.
Evil dream crushes me”.
her father: “What's your dream states?
Tell us, what,
My child native?”
“I dreamed, - she says, —
I went into the forest primeval,
And it was too late; little moon
Lights from behind a cloud;
Since I got off the path: in the backwoods
You could not hear a soul,
And yes ate only pine
tops rustled.
And suddenly, as though in reality,
Hut in front of me.
I it, I knock - silent. They call -
No answer; imploringly
I opened the door. I enter -
In the hut the candle burns; I look -
Everywhere silver to gold,
All bright and richly”.
groom.
“And what thin, fairy tales, Your Dream?
Know you live richly”.
Bride.
“Wait, sir, he is not finished.
for silver, of gold,
the dress, mats, slice,
At Novgorod whip
I silently admired
And marvel divovalas.
Suddenly I heard a scream and a top horse..
We drove up to the porch.
I quickly slam the door,
And hiding behind the stove.
Here I hear a lot of votes ...
Arrived twelve fellows,
And with them a dove
Beauty-girl.
Arrived crowd, nor worship,
Icons without noticing;
Sit at the table, not praying
And without removing caps.
In the first place the big brother,
At the right hand of Friars Minor,
After the lion dove
Beauty-girl.
scream, laughter, songs, noise and ringing,
Reckless hangover ...”
groom.
“And what thin, tell, Your Dream?
Broadcasts it fun”.
Bride.
“Wait, sir, he is not finished.
It is a hangover, thunder and the sound of,
Pir fun rages,
Only girl grieves.
Sits, silent, neither eating, nor drinking
And the shock wears away the tears,
A big brother takes his knife,
Prisvistыvaya Knife;
Hlyadyt on devytsu-beauty,
And suddenly grabs the scythe,
Villain kills girl,
She cuts the right hand”.
“Well, this, - says the bridegroom, —
Direct fiction!
But not sue, Tvoy not sleep disasters,
Trust, virgin soul”.
She looks him in the face.
"And it is from whose hands the ring?»
Suddenly the rumor bride,
And they got up from their seats.
Ring rolls and rings,
Groom trembling pale;
embarrassed guests. - The Court says:
"keep, knit villain!»
villain bound in, dress,
And a quick death executed.
famous for Natasha!
And then the whole song our.
