How Tsarevich Ivan was looking for a bride. Summary of the GCD “How Ivan Tsarevich was looking for a bride. Progress of direct educational activities

Attention! The site administration is not responsible for the content methodological developments, as well as for compliance with the development of the Federal State Educational Standard.

Interlude with songs, games and dances (based on Russian folk tales and “The Tale of Fedot the Archer...” by L. Filatov).

Purpose of the event: organization of cultural and leisure activities for students in grades 7-11.

Objectives of the event: develop the communicative qualities of students and their stage skills, organize the interaction of children different ages in one KTD in order to expand their social circle.

Form of organizing children's activities: KTD.

Characters: Tsar, Princess, Tsarevich, American groom Johnny, eastern padishah, 2 dancers, Scientist Cat, Nightingale the Robber, Baba Yaga, Serpent Gorynych (2 people), Koschey the Immortal, Father Frost, Snow Maiden, gang of robbers (3 people).

Props: costumes, hut, props for competitions: 3 pencils, thread and wallets, 3 stools, sheets of paper (6-8), 10 balls, 3 matchboxes .

Musical equipment.

Scenario

Fairytale music sounds. Enter Santa Claus and Snow Maiden. They address the audience.

DM: Hello! Here we come to you!

Snow Maiden:

The snowstorm covered the roads -
Don't pass, don't pass!
But the Snow Maiden is open
All roads and paths!
I hurried to you, friends,
After all, you can’t be late!

DM: I walked through the mountains and forests for a long time to visit you!

With winter gifts,
With blizzards, snow,
With skis, sleds,
Songs and dances.
To be here under New Year
All the people would have gathered!

At this fabulous hour, with a wave of the staff, we will all be transported to the fairy-tale kingdom of Lukomorye.( Strikes three times with the staff. Fairytale music sounds.)

Snow Maiden:

Lukomorye has an evil oak.
Golden chain on oak volume.
Both day and night, the learned cat keeps walking around the chain.

He goes to the right - he starts a song, to the left - he tells a fairy tale.
There are miracles there, a goblin wanders there, a mermaid sits on the branches.

(Fairy-tale music sounds. They disperse and leave.)

(There is noise, crackling, roaring and screaming of a cat. The cat jumps out with a hiss.)

Cat: Again the kikimora and the goblin confused all the paths and covered them with snow. The New Year has just arrived, and they have already filled up the entire forest. ( Washing his face) Have you heard the news?

The king decided to celebrate two holidays for the New Year: New Year and his daughter’s wedding. Only bad luck - there is no groom yet. So the king decided to give a cry all over the world: I’m looking for a groom for my beloved daughter. Retire yourself, and let the young rule. There are already a bunch of suitors waiting at our gates: all hands are wooing the princess. Not just any, but everything royal blood. (The king and princess are sitting and drinking tea. The cat rubs itself at the princess’s feet.)

Tsar: Guests are already waiting at the gate! Oh, people are worried! It's so noisy at the door! Daughter, welcome your guests soon!

(Music sounds. An American groom enters with two dancing girls.)

American:

Ay um Johnny! Aim the best!
I have an interest:
Your money and your daughter are super duper,
And you - ( says to the king) away! ( Drives the king off the throne, puts his feet on the table).
I am the king of a big country! Hello, Russia! O-la-la!
Ay em check super king, ay em beautyful and big!

Tsar: Hey Johnny! What a cunning one! And let them into the yard! ( ousts the American from the throne). You tell him: “Please sit at the table!” And his feet are already on the table!

(Oriental music sounds, the padishah enters with dancing girls.)

Padishah:

I am an eastern padishah!
I have many mines.
They mine diamonds
There are rubies and topazes!
I'll buy everything - even a star.
Just be my wife
Three hundred sixty-six!

Tsar: I'm very glad to see you! Grand Mercy!

(Speaks towards his daughter.)

Daughter! Get off your feet!
He has so many wives
Give him more!
We raised our daughter like a berry!
No! You will stay in Russia!

(Music plays and the prince enters singing “Who created you like this?” At the chorus, the princess approaches the prince and they dance together.)

(Scary music sounds. The lights flash. Serpent Gorynych breaks in and steals the princess.

The lights turn on and sad music plays. All the suitors gathered around the king.)

Tsar: Oh, bitter grief! Oh, the trouble is sad! Where is my daughter? Where is my little blood? What are you standing there, you fools? Go around half of Europe, go around the whole world, but return my daughter to me! And then, I make a vow, I give you the kingdom! Dot.

(The grooms bow to the king at the waist and go in search.)

(The grooms walk around the tree and stop in front of a stone.)

Cat: How long, how short, did the 3 princes walk. They walked through fields, through high mountains, across the sea, and around deserts. There is no princess. We decided to leave. In the field they saw a huge stone, and on that stone there are words inscribed: “If you go straight, you will lose your life, if you go to the left, you will lose your horse, if you go to the right, you will lose your property.”

American: I don’t have any good, I’ll go to the right.

Padishah: I don’t have a horse, only camels, I’ll go left.

Tsarevich: But life without a princess is not nice to me, I’ll go straight.

(They disperse.)

Cat: How long, how short, but Johnny’s path led into the thicket of the forest, and there...

(Shots and whistles are heard, music plays, a gang with Nightingale the Robber jumps out. They sing a song to the tune of “VVV Leningrad.”)

Nightingale the Robber:

When you go through the forest, you will probably be sick.
A normal person doesn’t come here - he knows that this forest is mine!
I'm Madame Nightingale! I'm in control here, I bet!
Hey guys, don’t be timid, I’ll defeat everyone here!
Gang: You are Madame Nightingale! Deceive everyone, capture them!
Gang, hey, don't be shy! We will defeat everyone here!
Hop-hop-hop! ( dancing around the hall to the music)

(The groom comes out and a whistle sounds.)

SR: Brothers! Hold him! Knit it! Ah-ah-ah! (the gang attacks the American and ties him up)

If you want to live, go through the tests, and if you fail, we will bury you alive in the thicket of the forest and no one will find you. I allow you to take 3 good fellows to help you. (Johnny selects assistants in the hall)

I want to test your strength. Your task: burst your opponent’s balloon with your foot, but leave yours intact, your hands are tied behind your back. The winner is the one who keeps his ball .(music is playing, competition is going on)

(Tied to the leg balloon. They stand in pairs. In each pair, the winner enters into a fight with another winner, so there is only one winner left)

The next dexterity test is called “Purse”: you need 2 more people. (Johnny invites from the audience and participates in the competition himself). Your task is to wind the thread around the pencil as quickly as possible at the signal and pull the wallet towards you. ( Music is playing, competition is going on)

The final test of intelligence. Need 2 people.( Joni invites from the audience and participates in the competition himself)

Your task: get the object from the floor without touching it with your hands and without touching the floor with your feet. You can spin around on the stool as you wish. (Music is playing, there is a competition.)

American: Oh, beautiful madam! I don't want to go anywhere else. Let me stay with you. You conquered me with your courage. There are no such desperate girls in my country. Be my wife!

(Music sounds, everyone leaves, a cat appears)

Cat: Meanwhile, the padishah reached the dense forest and dark swamps.

(Baba Yaga comes out and sings a song. The padishah appears)

Baba Yaga: Wow! Come on! It smells like a non-Russian spirit! I think I'll have lunch now.

Padishah: Oh, beautiful pari! I was gazing into your dense forest! How do I get out of here?

Baba Yaga: Look, how cunning you are! And you will only leave when you solve all my riddles and complete the tasks. Well, so be it, I’m kind today, you can take beautiful girls and good fellows to help you. ( Talks to the side) So, you see, I’ll have lunch, dinner, and a three-course breakfast, and we’ll also eat in reserve and prepare: marinate, smoke, dry! I'm drooling! ( Turned to the padishah)Come on, guess already!

Riddles (7-10 New Year-themed riddles).

The road out of my domain is not easy! You need to go through the swamp. Take yourself 2 partners. ( Padishah takes 2 partners in the hall) Using 2 pieces of paper you need to walk without stepping on the swamp and go back. Whoever passes will win, and whoever doesn’t pass will get stuck in the swamp and remain there forever!( There is music and a competition is taking place.)

Padishah: Oh, beautiful pari! In my country BabA is called respected people. You are so smart, wise, be my most beloved three hundred and sixty-sixth wife! ( Music plays, they leave together, a cat appears)

Cat: So the padishah found his happiness in our dense forest and swampy swamp. How are things with the Tsarevich?

(Music sounds, the prince comes out and sings “Ray of the Golden Sun.”)

(Alarming music sounds, Serpent Gorynych appears. The Tsarevich waves his sword.)

Tsarevich: The villain! Bring back the princess!

Dragon(head 1): Stop waving the piece of iron in vain. I will return it if you complete my task.

Head 2: And you can take several people to help you. (The Tsarevich selects people from the hall)

Head 1: I want to check your power supply.

Head 2: Inflate the balloons until they burst. Whoever's balloon bursts first wins, and if you all lose, I'll eat you!

(Music plays and a competition takes place.)

Tsarevich: Give me back, Gorynych, my bride!

Gorynych Head 1: I would be glad, but she is languishing in Koshchei’s dungeon.

Head 2: You just can’t cope with him - he’s immortal!

(They leave, the cat appears.)

Cat: Meanwhile, the princess is languishing in Koshcheev’s prison.

Koschey:

So as not to be poor alone, -
Become my wife!
What about the FAQ?.. I'm a distinguished man
And in general, I’m nothing!..

Princess:

You are better, sir,
Hit others!
I'll wait for the Tsarevich
I'll take a look at the calendar!

Koschey:

Don't be a fool to me, girl!
They offer - take it!
Tea, not for you every evening
Widow kings are walking!..

Princess:

Even if you beat me with a whip,
Even cut me with a sword, -
All the same as your wife
I won't give a damn!

Koschey:
You, Princess, don’t make me angry
And the conflict with me did not last long!
I'm leaving for Paris the other day
The guillotine has arrived!
In light of what I said...
Better be my wife!
I have nerves too,
I'm not made of steel either!

Princess:

Go away, hateful one, away
And I don’t mind being a husband!
If you don't leave, then I can
Help with a frying pan!

(The prince enters and waves his sword.)

Tsarevich: Koschey! Bring back the princess, but if you want it in a good way - go out to fight - we will fight!

(Music sounds, there is a battle, the prince begins to play. Father Frost and the Snow Maiden rush in.)

Father Frost: Oh, you villain! Decided to ruin the whole fairy tale again?! You cannot escape the blow of my staff so that all the evil comes out of you! (He hits Koshchei with a staff. Music plays. Koschey, spinning, leaves. The Tsarevich and Tsarevna join hands and stand together with DM and the Snow Maiden)

Snow Maiden: In the fairy tale, goodness won again. We wish it to enter your every home in the New Year!

DM: And it’s time for us to say goodbye again. Happy New Year everyone! Happiness and warmth!

(The song of Santa Claus sounds. All the heroes come out and dance.)

Koschey was sitting in his castle. I missed you. I'm tired of wasting away over gold, I'm too lazy to instill fear in little people, kidnapping red girls is more expensive for myself. The hour is never certain, the hero will be found, begin to stir up peace, bring charges, or even free the girl, and take part of the gold reserve with her. Koschey thought and thought and decided to look at his neighbors in the magic mirror. What are they doing there, in real time, so to speak. Suddenly the boredom will pass.

Koschey looked and became thoughtful. Vasilisa the Wise and Ivan the Tsarevich receive guests, caress the children, and if they quarrel, then after that they show mercy even more. Marya-Morevna and her husband live - they live, they make good money. All families, and with children, there is never a dull moment. Why am I worse, Koschey said to himself and went to visit Baba Yaga. She is considered the first matchmaker in the world of evil spirits. So let him find a bride, and not just a quick one, but one of noble blood, and with a rich dowry.
Koschey came to Yaga’s hut. And she improves her qualifications, watches the “Let’s Get Married” program on a magical platter. Koschey told her about his desire, described the future bride in detail and did not forget the size of the dowry. Yaga waved her hand:
- You can find whatever bride you want. There is a miracle for this - it's called antyrnet. Now we will see which overseas princesses are looking for husbands.
They began to look and found the first contender. Her face is white, her cheeks are rosy, her hair is like a raven’s wing, and her lips are like scarlet roses. Call me Snow White. The most that there is real princess. And a crystal coffin is included in the dowry. Koschey did not consider other options, as the yaga did not persuade him. Rested that your donkey. Snow White should be the mistress of my castle. No sooner said than done. Snow White has arrived, even whiter and rosy in real life. Koschey walked like Gogol, and a week later he ran to Yaga. The eye twitches, the tongue becomes confused.
- What's wrong with you, honey? - The yaga gasped. While Koschey drank tea with valerian, the yaga just shook her head.
- At first, everything was fine. And then the dowry arrived - a crystal coffin, and with it the gnomes. In the amount of seven pieces. Also a dowry, only movable, that’s what Snow White said. Where I go, they say, they go too. I think, oh well, they’ll do well on the farm. And then it started, no matter where you go, you’ll bump into a gnome. In the center of the throne room they drilled mines to extract gold and precious stones. Okay, I closed the treasury on time. And Snow White is good too. He tells me that I love animals, they are so cute. And where did she get that word from! As soon as he opens the windows and starts singing, birds fly in clouds, animals break in the door. I already threatened and shouted and swore. Where there is a castle full of living creatures. And gnomes to boot,” Koschey gnashed his teeth. I don’t even know how to get rid of them all.
Yaga scratched her head:
- And you invite the devil to visit. Maybe mutual language they will find it.
Two days later, the beaming Koschey thanked the yaga:
- She moved out, moved to the devil, and took the gnomes and the crystal coffin. Let's look for another bride for me. Just so that there are no dwarves there, otherwise the throne room was just put in order yesterday.
The next bride was called Aurora. Koshchei liked her not only because she was blond and beautiful. Her main advantage was that the beauty slept almost all the time. “This suits us,” Koschey rejoiced, “It seems like there is a Bride, and there are no Problems.”
Yaga chuckled, but did not dissuade her. A week passed, then another, Koschey did not appear. Yaga got worried and went to visit. The castle was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. But a strange noise was coming from the basement, and the yaga went towards it. Koschey was sitting near the bed on which the sleeping beauty lay. He had plugs sticking out of his ears, his eyes were red, and he didn't look very good at all. And the beauty snored so much that the walls shook. Yaga brought the unfortunate Koshchei upstairs.
“I tried everything,” Koschey said, trembling slightly. And he turned him over, gave him anti-snoring potions, and drank sleeping pills by the liter. Even special remedy I bought it from a visiting merchant, and in vain I only laid out half a chest of gold. I can’t sleep, and I don’t know how to get rid of it. “She doesn’t wake up,” Koschey began to cry, and the yaga became thoughtful:
- Or maybe take it to the nightingale and the robber? He had long ago become deaf from his own whistling. And he is greedy for beauties.
And so they did. When Koschey had slept, he came to Yaga again:
“I want,” he says, “an eastern bride.” They are obedient, meek, and honor their husbands.
There was such a princess, Jasmine. An ancient, rich family. A braid two hands thick, eyes like a doe. Koschei caught fire. He says what is needed. Let's take it.
A week later, Koschey was again sitting with the yaga. In his hands, the saddened villain was holding a bundle, in the bundle sat a duck, in the duck was an egg, in general, everything acquired by back-breaking labor over many years.
“Just imagine,” he told the yaga, who was stirring the brew, “the princess was oriental, but she seemed meek in appearance.” And by nature she is a real tigress. It's okay, if you endure it, you'll fall in love. There's another problem here. How her relatives came, a whole caravan. Yes, everyone is noisy, and they still captured their friends and acquaintances. There is nowhere to step in the castle without bumping into a guest or relative. They scurry back and forth all day. So I took the most valuable thing,” Koschey showed the bundle, “and I took the key to the treasury for you too.” Save the frog, be a friend.
Yaga tasted the brew and thought:
- I know what to do. Checking your registration and registration will save you from these guests. But where to place the princess... maybe the filthy idol will agree? Although I know him, he won’t do anything for free.
“I’ll organize a dowry for her,” Koschey waved his hands, “let her just take it.”
That's what they decided on. Koschey asked for his next bride from among his magical creatures. And such a one was found, a mermaid named Ariel. Red hair, green eyes. Koschey was delighted. She is her own, she says, not like these human princesses. A week later, Koschey, bent over from radiculitis, complained to Yaga:
- A fish is a fish. Cold, wet, slippery. In the aquarium, you see, there is not enough room for her. I installed a pool for her in the throne room. And what? It was already damp in the castle, but now everything is overgrown with mold and moss. My bones ached, I can’t bear it anymore. And she says, let’s open a water park with a dolphinarium. What use is it to me in my old age?
Yaga, who was rummaging on the shelf in search of a warming ointment, sighed:
- The bride will be just right for a water man.
In the evening, the cheerful Koschey said to the yaga:
- I was thinking, what do I need these princesses for? Let there be a girl from a good family, simple, sweet, hard-working.
“And I’ve already found you another princess,” the yaga grinned, “to call her Rapunzel.”
- How! - Koschey already choked, catching the jaw that had fallen out of his mouth. - You need to come up with a name like that! Either you'll get a broken jaw or sclerosis. No, are there any normal brides?
- But of course! Look, she’s hard-working, obedient, and pretty. The name is Cinderella.
“It’s suitable,” Koschey rejoiced.
A week later, Yaga received an invitation to visit from Koshchei. Yaga was wary, but taking with her a tincture of fly agarics - she couldn’t go on a visit empty-handed - she set off on her way. Approaching Koscheev's castle, the yaga closed her eyes. I opened my eyes, the picture did not change. The castle shone with fresh paint. The harsh gray color was replaced by a bright yellow chicken coloring. Multi-colored flags fluttered on the sharp towers, and flower beds were laid out near the castle. The yaga was greeted at the door by a gloomy owner.
- Well, did you marry me someone who is hard-working and obedient? Look what my villain's castle has become? This is a joke! A shame! Everyone is laughing at me now! And inside! Not a speck of dust, not a speck of dust, a colony of spiders - and I also knew their great-great-great-great-grandfather - escaped on the very first day!
The inside of the castle looked even more ridiculous. There were lace curtains hanging on the windows, pictures of flowers and still lifes on the walls. Everything sparkled and sparkled. The floor was rubbed so hard that the yaga slipped several times. In the throne room, Koschey threw the soft pillow off the throne in disgust.
- My eyes wouldn’t see her. She even made it to the treasury. I sorted all the coins by denomination and metal. I counted everything. Now I can't find my things. Well, I managed to hide the chest with the duck under the throne. Now I’m sitting on it like a mother hen, I’m afraid to leave my seat.
Yaga uncorked the bottle of tincture, took a long sip and suggested:
- Let’s take her to the king. If he wants, let him marry, but no, he has unmarried sons. It’s high time to restore order in the kingdom.
“You’re saying the point,” Koschey sighed with relief. That's why they drank.
Koschey chose his next bride especially carefully. I don’t want, he says, either princesses or housewives, let her be beautiful, so beautiful that everyone will envy me. And such a contender was found. A beautiful woman, her name is Belle. Koschey can’t take his eyes off him, he admires him, and Yaga pokes him with the beauty’s profile. Read, they say, what he writes, what kind of husband he is looking for. He waves it off, I don’t want to hear anything. Let him come quickly and that’s it.
The bride came to Koshchei. For this occasion, he polished his ceremonial armor with shoe polish and put the last three hairs on his skull into a newfangled hairstyle. Prepared, in a word. And the next day someone scratched at Yaga’s door. She opened it and on the threshold found a half-dead - and this happens - Koshchei.
- What's wrong with you, Koscheyushka? Surely the heroes, the damned Herods, did not challenge you to battle?
“I’m so beautiful,” Koschey croaked.
- Like this? - The yaga didn’t understand.
- He tells me in the evening, come to me, my monster. And I answered her, I’m not a monster, I’m a villain. The main villain here. She's for me, then I'm leaving, you're not monstrous enough for me. And I - how can it be, I just arrived, I didn’t have time to get to know me better. I haven’t shown my worst sides yet. She told me - okay, let me teach you. And how she got the whips and chains, and how she began to court me with them. And screams - are you feeling good, my monster? I barely escaped. I'm afraid to return to the castle now.
“Yes, that’s it,” Yaga shook her head. - I told you, read the questionnaire. Eh, okay, I’ll help you out this time too. I’ll send the gorynych snake to the castle, let him take the beauty for himself. When will we look for the next bride? - What are you talking about! - Koschey waved his hands. - How long he lived as a bachelor, he knew neither trouble nor care. I'm not made for family life. So Koschey remained single.

- Are you wondering where this outfit comes from? Yes, everything is from there. Tourists supply. What they will forget themselves, what I will drag away. That's how we live. So-a-ok, here it is, a little fragment, dear. It pricks and burns with cold. Girl, have you been living with this guy for a long time? And you didn’t notice anything?

– What didn’t you notice? – I was surprised.

- A fragment. Well, the same one. Troll mirror. You still have a fairy tale. The storyteller, however, got everything wrong, as always. But about the fragments - the pure truth.

« The Snow Queen"? A crooked mirror that broke and scattered around the world? This is a children's fairy tale...

- Fairy tale, fairy tale. But there are fragments.

So. We've arrived. An evil troll collects fragments of a fairytale mirror. Now the Snow Queen will appear.

- Not. There is no queen. Invented by your storyteller. But there was a mirror. I made it myself.

Myself? The lines of Andersen’s fairy tale came to mind: “So, once upon a time there lived a troll, feisty and despising; it was the devil himself."

- Just to create a lie. The mirror was not for fun. The evil that it reflected remained in it. And when it crashed, it scattered around the world. Now until I collect all the fragments, there will be no sense. But here's another one found. It's good.

The troll was already holding a shiny shard in his hand. Looking at it and lovingly stroking it, he approached the wall, and it suddenly shone with liquid silver. Now it was a mirror. Huge, but not whole, but like a mosaic made up of individual pieces. True, less than half. Where there were no pieces, there was emptiness.

The troll placed the shard against the mirror, and it clicked into place with a quiet ringing sound. Immediately the mirror disappeared, becoming a slimy stone again.

- That's all right. Now I will bring you back to the top and go with God.

I crawled up to Guy. He was sleeping peacefully, curled up and hugging himself with his arms.

- What about his leg?

- Don't worry, girl. Already treated. It won't hurt. Well, it's time. Don't remember it badly.

I stopped being surprised a long time ago, dreaming of waking up as soon as possible.

The troll came close and sharply slapped me on the forehead.

My vision blurred, it spun in a colorful carousel, then suddenly went out, as if I had been hit on the head with something heavy.

- Eva! Will you have coffee, my love?

She opened one eye. Eight fifteen. Why can't he sleep?

- No! I am sleepy.

- And I’m already bringing breakfast!

She turned over on her stomach and grabbed the pillow.

- Leave me alone. What got you up so early?

– I wanted to admire the sunrise with you. And then serve you coffee in bed.

She moaned into the pillow. Again. How can?

After returning from Norway, Guy became simply unbearable. Still, something happened to us in this gorge. Norwegian doctors did not find anything strange. They blamed everything on the thin mountain air and lack of adaptation. But Guy... Where did his icy calm, determination, and toughness go? He became an overly sensitive whiner, a soft-hearted romantic. In the three years that we have been together, I have never heard a kind word from him. And now he is ready to look me faithfully in the eyes all day long and say all sorts of stupid things. What have I not heard enough of! Goddess, nymph, muse...

She raised her head from the pillow. He stood in the doorway in a satin robe, with a tray, smiling ingratiatingly with his Cheshire Cat smile. There is a rose in the teeth. My God!

She sat up in bed with a sigh. Still won't let go.

Guy placed the tray on my lap and carefully placed a pillow under my back.

- My goddess, everything is as you like. Turkish coffee. With cold water. Pancakes with strawberries.

She took a cup of coffee and took a sip. She winced. She took a sip of water.

- Guy! How many times can you repeat?! The coffee must be hot! Sizzling! And the water is cold! Ice! Is it really difficult to remember?!

Yulia Dantseva

Silent Maid

Signorina Chiara Biergio hated tourists with all her heart. Everyone without exception. And smiling Chinese, chirping in flocks in their bird language, and boorish Americans, confident that the whole world owes them, and prim Englishmen with a bored look, and brave Germans with square bulldog jaws, and arrogant Arabs in white robes, and fussy, clueless Russians.

In fact, Chiara didn’t care about nationality. Tourists irritated her as a special kind of people. Life in the most expensive city in Italy was not easy anyway. And this crowd, noisy, wandering aimlessly, leaving behind mountains of garbage, filling the already narrow streets and creating a crush in river buses- vaporetto, made this life at the height of the season simply unbearable.

The ringing of an ancient grandfather clock reverberated throughout the house, humming loudly and bronzely in my temples. Chiara shuddered and almost spilled it on her lap. hot coffee. She could not get used to the chimes, beating their dull “bom-bom” from time immemorial.

The cup thudded against the bottom of the sink. The hot water faucet hissed, producing only air. Chiara remembered that the heater broke yesterday. She, of course, forgot to call the master. There was no desire to tinker with dishes in cold water. Gloomily looking at her reflection in the polished steel side of the refrigerator, she left the kitchen. Since Mother Biergio moved to Mestre, there was no one to grumble about unwashed dishes. Being alone had its advantages. True, a little.

In the empty living room, frozen overnight, Chiara looked at the dull copper dial of that same clock, huge, human-sized, in a wooden case darkened by time with carved patterns of ivy leaves. She sighed heavily. It was necessary to go downstairs to the shop.

Again she will have to hang around the polished counter until siesta, smile sweetly at everyone and pass off the handicrafts of her friend the artist Franco Fabrizi as antiques. Although how do all these tourists know what real ancient Venetian masks should look like?

Carefully descending the creaky, rotten steps in some places, Chiara groped her hand along the slightly damp wall, looking for the switch. A click, a slight crack... A spark that slipped through made her pull her hand back. Winter. The wiring is damp. And there's nothing you can do about it.

Blinking, as if wondering whether to turn on or not, the chandelier came on. Energy-saving light bulbs in the paws of bronze Venetian lions, green with age, looked strange. Once upon a time there were candles burning in the lampshades, and grandfather grumbled about their high cost. Now there are no candles, no grandfather, but there are electricity bills.

Chiara had not noticed for a long time the smell of dampness, dust and dilapidated things that had forever settled in this room with a low ceiling and darkened, and in places blackened, wooden beams. How I didn’t notice the chilly wind outside, saturated with the pungent iodine smell of the canals. Aqua alta... But there is no stench of rotting algae and garbage, like in the summer during the “high season”.

Chiara loved the beginning of winter. I loved it, despite the fact that St. Mark's Square was flooded with ankle-deep water, even small boats could no longer sail under some bridges, there was nowhere to hide from the wind, piercing, hitting the cheeks, and in the dark rooms of the first floor, where even in the height of summer The sun doesn't come out often, and mold appears on the ceiling again. In winter there are fewer tourists, but also less income. But Chiara rested her soul from the summer hustle and bustle. Just a month of relative silence. Until the Christmas and New Year's chaos begins, and then the madness of the carnival.

Chiara wiped the display cases, straightened the fallen mask of the Venetian Lady - a magnificent, tawdry one, and remembered how she had fought with Franco over it. She flicked Doctor Plague's nose. She smiled at the Cat - she loved this mask, there was something homely and warm about it. I went through several Bauta masks, black and gold, white and silver, and a dozen Boltos. I chose the most beautiful ones and laid them out in the display case. I added several open fans. She rearranged the porcelain figurines, took hats and cloaks out of the closet and hung them, straightened the lace and feathers. She sat down on a rickety chair behind the counter. She rummaged under it and opened a woman's novel, disheveled with broken corners.

The souvenir shop and its owner were ready to receive the next portion of hated tourists.

Almost until the siesta, Chiara sat in her chair, now immersed in reading for a while, now dozing off, now shuddering from the chiming of the clock and again returning to the suffering of the heroine of the novel. Only three people looked into the shop - two pimply, freckled boys, hung with all sorts of photographic equipment, apparently students, and a pretty old woman, clearly an Englishwoman, wearing a funny hat, tied with a ribbon because of the windy weather. The students looked at the masks for a long time, asked to see one or the other, but they never took anything. But the old lady, almost without haggling, bought that very tawdry Venetian Lady that Chiara disliked so much. To celebrate, she also handed the old woman a figurine of a winged lion with the tip of its tail broken off. Due to her blindness, the customer did not notice the flaw and was showered with gratitude for a long time, promising to recommend her shop to all her many girlfriends.

Having sent the old woman out, Chiara remembered that it was almost time for siesta, and she needed to buy fresh vegetables.

From her house it was very close to the market in San Polo, near the Rialto Bridge. You can, of course, spend three euros and take the vaporetto to the cheaper market in San Canaregio. But it had been drizzling since the morning, not conducive to long walks. Putting on warm jacket and having pulled her hood down further, Chiara put on her rubber boots, closed the shop and, with her usual bag on wheels, went to the market in San Polo.

Today Chiara was lucky, and she got almost to the Rialto market, without ever hearing from the few tourists a single obsessive request for directions. The intensified wind angrily threw a fine drizzle into my face, getting even under the deep hood of my jacket.

She was almost lost in the crowd among the counters and boxes of goods and was looking out for familiar merchants with whom she could always bargain profitably and at the same time learn the latest gossip, when she heard a quiet male voice behind her:

– Signorina, please tell me how to find Calle de La Malvasia? I need to go back to my hotel...

Chiara, as usual, wanted to pretend that she had not heard the request. But suddenly I realized that I couldn’t. Surprising herself, she stopped and turned around to look at the stranger.

He looked completely ordinary. So ordinary that it would fit the description of a hundred or two men, slightly above average height, between thirty and forty. A raincoat of some indeterminate color, either dark gray or dark blue, funny bright yellow rubberized boots above the knees. These are sold in Piazza San Marco to unlucky tourists who happen to be walking in leather shoes during the Aqua Alta season.

But the eyes... Chiara suddenly felt a vague anxiety and a strange weakness in her knees. The stranger's gaze was completely at odds with his appearance and a guilty expression on his face. It was as if from under this gray, ordinary human shell some other, ancient, sinister entity looked at her. Chiara blinked several times, trying to come to her senses, and the obsession disappeared. The stranger still looked at her pleadingly, like a guilty dog.

“Well, signorina...” he continued, “my hotel.” It’s called,” the man reached into his pocket and took out a crumpled piece of paper, “Ca San Polo.” Calle de Malvasia, twenty-six, ninety-six. Where should I go? Please!

The tourist spoke the Venetian dialect, purely, almost without an accent, but somehow too correctly. This language was clearly not his native language.

- What, the signor doesn’t have a guidebook? – Chiara asked irritably.

“Of course there is,” the stranger answered enthusiastically, “here!”

And he handed her a book with a bright green cover, on which Chiara read: “Tiziano Scarpo, Venice is a Fish.” Below the title was a large piece of text printed: “Where did you go? Throw away the card! Why do you need to know where you are at this moment?”

Chiara barely restrained herself from laughing right in this loser's face. Of all the existing guides to Venice, this book was the least likely to help you get to the right place.

“Yes,” she muttered through clenched teeth, “you were lucky with the guidebook.”

The stranger, smiling ingratiatingly, spread his arms. Chiara suddenly felt sorry for him. But only for a moment.

- So how is it, signora? - the tourist begged. – Where should I go to find my hotel?

“Right,” Chiara waved her hand at random. - Directly and without turning anywhere.

- Thank you, thank you!

The stranger beamed and hurriedly walked in the direction she had indicated. Chiara sighed with relief and went to buy fresh tomatoes and artichokes. She returned home chilled, angry, because of a squabble with the traders, who did not want to give in to the price, wailing about their plight and the crisis.

In the evening in the living room, sitting in an old sagging armchair, wrapped up to her nose in a warm woolen blanket and sipping warmed red wine with cinnamon from a porcelain mug, Chiara listened to the cheerful muttering of a television announcer about a demonstration planned in Venice under the slogans of secession from Italy, grinned at the stupidity of politicians and for some reason she remembered that unlucky tourist that she met near the Rialto Bridge.

Falling asleep to the quiet patter of drops on the roof and the creaking of the shutters on the windows, I again saw his strange, pitch-black eyes. And before falling asleep, I suddenly thought that I shouldn’t have joked so viciously at him. I thought, I was surprised. And fell asleep.

The next day, Chiara, as usual, sat in her shop, flipping through the pages of a rather boring stupid novel and dreaming about how nice it would be to now be somewhere by the sea, warm and transparent, on white, heated sand.

The bell above the front door jingled cracked, and Chiara glanced at the visitor who had entered.

Throwing off the hood of a raincoat of an indefinite color - either dark gray or dark blue - the same tourist from yesterday looked at her.

Slowly getting up, she dropped the book she was holding on her lap to the floor.

“I followed your advice,” the stranger grinned.

– And did you find your hotel? “She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. I just wanted to run upstairs, like a naughty child.

“Not right away,” the guest chuckled, causing her a new hot wave of shame. - But I found your shop.

- How? – Chiara was surprised.

“Chiara Biergi,” she said her name mechanically. Then she thought that she had no intention of meeting this gentleman at all, and hastened to change the subject: “What do you want?”

- I need a mask.

Chiara was finally able to cope with the suffocating wave of shame and was inspired:

– I have the best collection of masks in all of Merchery! Choose. If what you need is not found in the store, then my supplier will find almost anything for you.

- Love? – His ironic tone again made Chiara feel embarrassed.

The guest walked along the display cases, busily looking at the masks. Chiara froze at the counter, not taking her eyes off him.

“No,” Victor finally said in disappointment, “you don’t have what I’m looking for.”

– What kind of mask is this that I don’t have in my store? “She was almost offended.

- Moretta. The Silent Maid. “Victor looked straight into her eyes, and for some reason fear ran down Chiara’s back like sticky, cold fingers.

“But... this mask...” the words seemed to stick to her palate, Chiara pushed them out with great difficulty, “it’s not popular... it’s... too simple...”

– But you said “any”?

The guest was clearly mocking. But the customer is always right, and Chiara still felt guilty.

“Okay,” she sighed, “leave an advance and a phone number where you can be contacted.” Today I will order Moretta for you from my supplier.

- Just no hackwork! – Victor said sternly. – I don’t need cheap crafts. I'm ready to pay two thousand euros. But it must be real, high-quality work. And ideally, an antique copy, preferably from the seventeenth or eighteenth century. Of course, I'm willing to pay more for this. As much as needed. Price doesn't matter.

The last phrase was said by the guest with such confidence that Chiara understood that he was not joking. Thoughts swirled feverishly in her head that it was pointless to approach Franco with such a request. This crooked handicraftsman will not be able to make such a rarity. We need to rummage through grandfather's old notebooks. Maybe there will be an address there for some antiques dealer or a real craftsman who can create Moretta. The mask, in fact, was very simple. But no one has done it for so long that there are few craftsmen left who could give a piece of black velvet or leather the true form of the Silent Maid.

Victor, meanwhile, took out a plump wallet made of reddish leather with gold embossing and, one at a time, fanned out ten one hundred euro bills on the counter:

– I hope this amount will suit you as an advance?

Chiara nodded silently, not taking her eyes off the greenish pieces of paper.

Having seen off the guest, she closed the shop and buried herself headlong in studying the shabby, tattered barn books left by Grandfather Bjergi. Being pedantic, he carefully wrote down everything that, in his opinion, could be useful to his descendants in the difficult souvenir business. Finally, Chiara found the address of Signor Batti, the owner of an antique shop in San Croce. True, the signor was hardly still in good health, since in the records he was already mentioned as old Batty. But it was worth a try, because opposite his name in the notebook, in his grandfather’s ornate handwriting, was written: “For special occasions.”

Having written down the address on a piece of paper, Chiara went in search of Moretta's mask.

Luckily for her, the shop in San Croce still existed. And it was owned by the same Batti family. Of course, the old man mentioned by her grandfather died long ago and rested on the island of San Michele. But his son Giovanni, also already decrepit, gray as a harrier and hunched over, received her quite cordially.

- Moretta? – Giovanni raised his white bushy eyebrows in surprise. – Who would need Moretta? Strange, very strange...

– What’s strange about it? – Chiara shrugged. – Mask and mask. Besides, it's pretty nondescript.

Giovanni chewed his lips and, with difficulty getting up from his chair, shuffled to the shelf with old volumes that completely occupied one wall of the small room that served as his office. He rummaged through the books for a long time, running his finger along the spines and muttering something under his breath. Then he pulled out an old leather-bound volume.

“Look,” he creaked, opening the book in front of Chiara and pointing a gnarled finger with a yellowed nail at an old engraving depicting a Venetian woman in fluffy dress with a black Moretta mask on her face. A creature with horns, resembling a devil, peeked out from behind her. “It says here that the mask was invented and made by Asmodeus, the demon of lust and depravity. The one who puts it on, the one created by the demon, completely submits to his will. And then she becomes obsessed.

“Stupid fairy tales,” Chiara chuckled. – An ordinary piece of fabric or leather.

- Don't tell me. - Old Batty laughed a croaking laugh. – Casanova really appreciated this mask. She is also called the Delight of Husbands. Do you know why?

Chiara, of course, knew the peculiarity of the Silent Maid mask. It completely covered the lower part of the face, and to hold it, the owner had to squeeze a special leather loop sewn to the inside with her teeth. Thus, the lady wearing Moretta was deprived of the ability to speak and could only communicate through gestures.

“Listen, Signor Batti,” Chiara began to get tired of this old man with his fairy tales, “can you get Moretta?” I have a buyer who is willing to pay a tidy sum for a mask.

The old man looked at her with narrowed eyes. Chiara felt uncomfortable under his tenacious, unblinking gaze.

“Eh...” Signor Batty suddenly drawled, grabbing her left hand, “but you, girl, are not married yet!”

- What does it matter to you? – she flared, pulling her hand out of the old man’s bird-like fingers.

– It’s not good... dzitelle, that is, a woman who does not have a husband or permanent man- a tasty morsel for the devil... Not good.

Chiara snorted indignantly.

“Don’t be angry,” the old man said conciliatoryly. – I have Moretta. Antique. Only very expensive. I won’t give it away for less than ten thousand.

Chiara figured that it would be possible to charge double the price from a strange buyer, and nodded:

- It's coming! I can leave an advance. I'll bring the rest after the sale.

The old man pursed his lips in disbelief. Then he said:

- Fine. You are the granddaughter of Fabio Biergio. I trust you.

Signor Batti stood up from his chair again, groaning. He shuffled to an old cabinet with oak doors, opened one and rummaged around in its dark interior for a long time. He took out a wooden box, closed with an elegant forged lock.

- Here she is.

Chiara walked over and carefully picked up the heavy box. She put it on the table, opened the lock and opened the lid.

On a scarlet velvet lining lay Moretta's mask, made of the finest black leather. It really was ancient. The later ones already began to have tape attached to them for fastening on the face.

Chiara carefully turned the mask over. A leather loop was sewn on the inside at the level of the mouth.

In the evening she called the phone number left by Victor. He answered immediately, as if he was waiting for her call:

- Signorina? Did you get me a mask?

- Yes. As you requested. Antique. You can take it.

For some reason she wanted to quickly get rid of this box with a mask.

- Great. I just ask you to bring Moretta to my hotel. I don't know the city well. I'm afraid of getting lost again. And the Venetians are not very friendly.

Chiara felt ashamed again:

- Fine. I'll bring it. But you didn't even ask the price?

– The price doesn’t matter. You will receive the amount you specify. Immediately and in cash. I hope you remember the name of the hotel. Number thirteen. I am waiting.

Chiara heard short beeps on the phone. She sighed and, looking out the window at the early twilight rapidly filling with darkness, as if like ink, she went upstairs. She looked at her reflection in the cloudy mirror. Favorite old jeans and a stretched, shapeless sweater caused dull irritation. For some reason she wanted to look special. She put hers on best dress, pinned up her blonde hair, like that of a true Venetian, into a high hairstyle, and instead of a simple silver cross, which she had not parted with for almost thirty years, since childhood, a gold chain and grandmother’s earrings with opals. She no longer remembered when she took them out last time. She resolutely put aside her rubber boots, which did not go with her outfit, and put on elegant high-heeled boots.

There was no point in even thinking about walking to San Polo in such shoes. Moreover, the deal promised an enviable sum and it was stupid to regret spending ten euros. Chiara went to the water taxi stop.

A gusty wind embraced her with icy palms, shamelessly swept away the hem of her cloak, and stroked her knees, which immediately froze under the thin mesh of her stockings. Along the edges of the canal, the lanterns were already lit, and yellow reflections trembled on the black water. The dark, low sky, covered with clouds, still scattered fine water dust. The seat of the small motorboat was damp, and soon Chiara was completely chilled, regretting that she had dressed up like she was going on a date.

Under the Ponte del Tette bridge, in the old Red Light District, the boat finally slowed down and soon docked. Chiara paid the boatman and, clutching the box with the mask to her chest, climbed the four wet stone steps.

The hotel where Signor Egle stayed turned out to be very small, only two floors. Chiara thought that such a rich gentleman could rent a room at the Centurion Palace, overlooking the Grand Canal, and not in such a remote place. The hotels here were more modest, and among the locals this area had a bad reputation. It’s not for nothing that in the old days only courtesans lived here.

There was no one behind the counter. Chiara climbed the narrow stairs to the second floor and knocked on door number thirteen.

The room turned out to be a bit cramped, but clean and cozy in its own way. As cozy as a hotel can be.

Chiara carefully placed the box on the glass table. Victor impatiently opened the lock and threw back the lid:

- Fabulous. It's her... Moretta. The same one...

He gently stroked smooth skin masks.

- Twenty thousand. You promised cash.

Chiara couldn't wait to get out of here. A dull, vague feeling of anxiety was tossing and turning in my chest, scratching with sharp edges. This man scared her, making her heart pound painfully against her ribs and her throat dry up.

- Certainly. Just a minute.

Victor took his wallet out of his jacket and began deliberately slowly counting out the bills. He handed them to Chiara with a grin. She almost snatched the money from his hands and hid it in her purse.

- Farewell, Signor Egle. “I have to go,” Chiara said in a suddenly shrunken voice and offered him her hand.

Victor squeezed her palm, and then suddenly brought it to his lips. Chiara shuddered.

“Will Signorina do me one more favor?” – he said insinuatingly.

It seemed to Chiara that liquid fire began to spread across her body from the place where Victor’s lips touched her skin.

She didn’t understand how, but Victor suddenly appeared behind her, and Moretta’s mask was in his hands. He brought it to Chiara's face and whispered in her ear:

- Try it on. I really want to see it on you.

She wanted to scream “No!” and run away. But my legs felt like they were filled with lead... my arms hung limp... my head began to spin...

The warm, life-like skin of the mask touched her face. The space around shrank to narrow slits. It became difficult to breathe, panic set in, and I unbearably wanted to tear off the mask that was passionately clinging to my cheeks, forehead, and chin. But the body no longer belonged to her. The lips parted themselves as if for a kiss. She squeezed the leather loop with her teeth, feeling a strange salty taste.

Something slid along my neck, tickling, like a forked snake tongue. Victor's fingers dug painfully into his shoulders, becoming sharp claws.

The cloak slid to the floor... There was a crackling sound of torn fabric... Scraps of the dress fell at his feet...

The flames engulfed her, soaked into her skin, flowed through her veins, burned in her chest, burned her throat. She burned like a witch at the fire of an auto-da-fe, but there was no pain. Only wild, dark, bestial excitement...

Chiara closed her eyes. Weak-willed, dumb, ready for anything...

In the morning, naked, I woke up in a hotel bed, crumpled and smelling of debauchery. The body ached, purple bruises swollen on the skin, and deep scratches oozed blood. My head felt heavy, like after a hangover. Pieces of torn clothing are scattered on the floor. Wrapping herself in the remaining intact cloak, Chiara walked unsteadily downstairs to the reception desk.

The young man in a white shirt and bow tie glanced indifferently.

– Has the signor from number thirteen already left?

“Signorina, our hotel does not have room thirteen,” the receptionist was surprised.

Then, looking at her more carefully, he asked in fear:

- Are you okay?

Chiara didn't answer. The hellish fire that burned her skin yesterday was now raging inside her. An unfamiliar, unbridled force filled her, seething, seeking a way out, awakening her darkest desires.

Pressing her finger to her lips, as if calling for silence, she stepped towards the numb young man...

Andrey Shchepetov

How Tsarevich Ivan looked for a bride

The prince pulled the bow string as hard as he could and with the words “Don’t let me down, my dear,” he let go. For some reason, the harmful arrow did not fly towards the people, but disappeared into the dark blue of the forest. Anticipating evil, Ivan went in search of the naughty object.

He didn’t want to get married, but his father got it into his head that he definitely had time to look after his grandchildren, and sent his three sons to look for brides in a completely barbaric way. Not only could the dangerous undertaking lead to human casualties, but it was also extremely unreasonable from the point of view of the accuracy of all applicants. But there is nothing to do. The children obeyed and went to test their fate.

Ivan Tsarevich entered the thicket and immediately came across a large swamp. In the middle of the stinking lake stood a lopsided hut, lazily stepping from one chicken leg to the other. An old grandmother sat on the porch of the mobile estate and thoughtfully twirled the ill-fated arrow in her hands. Hearing the crunch of a branch, she raised her head and rasped in a hoarse voice:

- Yours, or what?

The young man was not at a loss and cheerfully said:

- We ask for forgiveness! There was an error. Give me the arrow, aunty, and I’ll move on.

“No, my dear,” answered the old woman, “rules are rules.” It’s not good for you to break customs. Since you managed to get here, then take me under your white hands and lead me down the aisle.

“What, you’re old,” the unfortunate shooter was taken aback, “how can I show up in public with you?” After all, they will laugh at me.

“I don’t know anything,” the grandmother stood her ground, “traditions are traditions.” Besides, I’m not such a fool as to give up half my kingdom.

- Yes, what half of the kingdom, there’s not even a third there.

- It’s okay, I’m not greedy. Let's take me to meet my parents.

– Do you know that arranged marriages are often unhappy? – the king’s son gave the final argument.

Good and kind tales. Easy to digest and delightful with stories. Plunging into the world of a fairy tale, a person becomes kinder, the world shines with colors.

How Ivan Tsarevich chose his bride

The old Tsar Eremey had a son, Ivan, and three daughters. Eremey married off his daughters to foreign princes long ago, and managed to expect grandchildren from them, but Vanka still doesn’t want to bring his wife into the royal chambers. He’s already quite a few years old, his peers are cradling their babies, but Vanka is still stubborn and doesn’t even look at the girls. He would only like to go hunting and fish on the lake. And Eremey so wanted to nurse the little princes; children’s laughter had not been heard in the royal chambers for a long time!

But Vanka was smart, and he could easily rule the state, and he, the old one, could have sent him to a well-deserved pension. And he would have found something to do. Maybe he wants to go to his daughters and tinker with his grandchildren! And he still has to climb onto the high throne every evening, receive foreign guests, and bow to them. Fed up, you foreign faces!

And King Eremey decided to take his son by cunning.

He called Vanka to his chambers in the morning and said that he had a dream. And he dreamed that he would soon die, but not having seen his daughters, he did not want to die. Therefore, he orders the horses to be harnessed right away and ready for the journey. And until he sees all his daughters, he will not return to his home.

And Vanka gives orders that upon his return he should choose a bride for himself, and if he disobeys, then his scepter will walk along Vanka’s ridge! And the king ordered that before his departure, seven of the most beautiful girls came from the nobility, but was brought to the court. And he said to his son: “If you don’t want to marry the princess, take a girl from our nobility as your wife.” Perhaps she will be no worse than an overseas princess. Just make sure you don’t make a mistake, you will get married once, and you will have to live with that wife for the rest of your life. I will not allow my family to be dishonored! “To intimidate Vanka, the Tsar stamped his foot, turned away and chuckled quietly into his beard. And while the king was getting ready for the journey, messengers with the sovereign’s decree scattered throughout the entire kingdom. And soon seven maidens of unspeakable beauty appeared before the Tsar and Tsarevich Vanka.

The king looks at the girls and marvels at his own idea. And now how will Vanka choose a bride for himself? The Tsar scratched behind his ear, but there was nothing to do; you couldn’t take back your Tsar’s words.

- Nothing, nothing! - thought the king. At the same time, we’ll see how Vanka can get out. Otherwise, you turn your nose up completely at government affairs, and you can lose all diplomacy. Let him use his brains now, and I’ll quickly leave.

Tsar Vanka tapped Vanka on the back with his father's hand, hugged his son, jumped into the carriage and was off. The Tsar set off on a long journey, giving Vanka a task of national importance.

Vanka spat at his feet in anger, but there was nothing to do, he would have to deal with the women instead of going hunting. And I really wanted to go hunting, the season is in full swing! In the forest, game is visible and invisible, and the lakes are so filled with fish that you can catch them with your bare hands! But Vanka was cunning.

Vanka called artisans from all over the kingdom to him and he ordered them to build towers for beauties, but only such as they themselves wanted, and so that they would wait for him in these towers and feel like mistresses there. Yes, he told me not to spare money on construction and finishing. He ordered this, and he gathered his friends and went hunting.

Vanka returned from hunting at the end of summer. He looks, and right next to the palace there are new towers, but they are all different. And Vanka counted only six towers.

- Why don’t I see the seventh tower? – Vanka asks the artisans. And the oldest master answers, “So you can’t see him behind the sixth one,” and he grins in his mustache.

There is nothing to do, it’s time to go choose a bride. Vanka approached the first tower. High tower! The windows are wonderfully shaped, square at the bottom, round at the top. The entire tower is decorated with carved wood, and the shutters are generally openwork, as if woven from cobwebs. Ivan marveled at the girl’s inventions, and he himself thought that the craftsmen had a hard time building such a mansion for the beauty!

He entered the mansion. And inside the tower there was something to see, no worse than outside. No one met him in the spacious room. And Vanka noticed that there was a ladder leading to the second floor, apparently the girl was waiting for him there. Vanka climbed the ladder and found himself in a small space. And the girl comes towards Vanka. Vanka looked at the girl and was stunned. There is a tower of hair on his head, his face is all powdered and smeared with rouge. And Vanka didn’t recognize which girl had decorated herself like that. Vanka backed away from such beauty and almost fell down the stairs. He spat in his hearts, but ordered the servants to wash the girl, comb her hair, and return her home to her father.

Ivan went to the second mansion, painted no worse than the first. He stepped over the threshold and was speechless again. The whole mansion was filled with large and small chests, mirrors hung on all the walls, and there was not a single curtain on the windows. There was nowhere to take a step. The floors are not swept, there is dust on the chests, you can draw.

Vanka is standing on the threshold, waiting. No one meets him, no one welcomes him. Only from the far corner of the tower is snoring heard. Vanka thought that the servant was exhausted from the heat, so the poor fellow took a nap! Vanka crept on tiptoe into the corner of the mansion, lo and behold, and there the girl on the wide bed was scattered in her sleep. What the girl wore around the house was what she wore on the bed. Vanka tried to introduce the girl as his wife, but he couldn’t! Vanka did not wake up the girl and jumped out of the tower.

Vanka ordered the yard men not to wake up the girl, but to load her onto a cart right on the bed and send her to her home...

Vanka did not come close to the third chamber. Laughing courtyard children crowded around the tower. Vanka stood at a distance from the tower and decided to observe what made the kids so happy. And after a few minutes he was laughing himself, and holding his stomach from laughter.

Just as Vanka ordered the girls to manage the mansions themselves, and not to burden the servants with household chores, the girl decided to do her laundry. She never did this while she lived with her mother and father. But there was nothing to do, only a clean dress remained, and even that was on her.

The girl heated some water, poured it into a trough, and put all her clothes there. And white, and red, and yellow, and green. I lathered it up and left it to dry. The dirt came off from the things along with the paint, and the things turned out red-yellow-green, but clean...

The girl hung her washed clothes on the fence, like flags of an unknown state, sat down on the porch and looked at the result of her work, feeling sad. She herself is disheveled, in a wet dress. Vanka found her in this form. It’s too early for a girl to get married, Vanka decided and walked past the tower.

And the artisan, you know, is grinning in his mustache. Vanka thought.

- Show me, master, the very last tower, which is not visible. Lead me to him!

And the master led Vanka to a small house with two windows and a low door.

Vanka, when he entered the door, bent over so as not to put a bump on his head. So he appeared before the girl, bent in half. And the girl bowed to his waist. And Vanka raised his head and froze. Good girl, oh so good! You can drown in your eyes alone and you won’t want to come up. And in the little room - how cozy, clean, fresh, and on the windows the strange flowers in painted pots smell throughout the little room, filling it with aromas. And the table is set, and there is a smell of pies. And the yard children sit at the table and feast on pies. A red cat walks around the little street, purrs his white mustache, and fawns on everyone.

The girl once again bowed to the tsar's son from the waist and invited him to the table to taste the pies. Vanka sat down at the table, biting into the pies, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the girl.

And Vanka decided that he would not go anywhere else, and would not look at any towers with their mistresses. So he sat in the girl’s mansion until nightfall. And when he left, he told the girl to get ready for the wedding and send messengers to her parents to warn them. And he will set the wedding day soon.

And then the king arrived. Oh, he was overjoyed when his son told him that he had chosen a bride for himself. And he was even more delighted when Vanka told how he chose his bride. And the king’s heart was relieved that there would be someone to leave the state to!

In the distant kingdom, in the thirtieth state, there lived Ivan Tsarevich. The time has come for him to get married. The sovereign's servants from all over the kingdom began to bring girls to the bride. And he doesn’t like any of them. They are not suitable for him to be a princess. Then they brought an old grandmother-witch. She says to the prince:
- Go into an open field and shoot an arrow upward. Where the arrow falls is where you will find your bride.
Ivan Tsarevich obeyed and went into an open field. Shot an arrow upward. The arrow flew all the way to the cloud and fell to the ground. Yes, the arrow hit the thicket of the forest. Ivan Tsarevich went after the arrow, and Kashchei the Immortal came out of the forest thicket to meet him, the arrow stuck in his beard.
- Why are you, good fellow, disturbing our thicket and shooting arrows?
- So I’m looking for a bride for myself. The arrow showed me the way. Do you have any beautiful girls here who are ready to be princesses?
- Yes, we have girls. Now, I’ll show you everyone. Choose according to your taste.
Kashchei whistled and all the girls there came out of the forest. All three. Baba Yaga, Forest Kikimora and Leshy. Ivan Tsarevich looked at them and said:
- What is this, that’s all? Is Leshy really a girl?
- That's all who remained. Marya was an artist, so she went to the neighboring forest and opened her own beauty salon there. And Little Red Riding Hood is with her. She provides massage services there.
And we have Leshiy for gay grooms.
“No,” says Ivan Tsarevich, “such people are not suitable for princesses for me.”
And he went to another open field. He shot the arrow upward again. The arrow flew above the cloud and fell down. The arrow hit the blue sea. Ivan Tsarevich went to the seashore for an arrow, and Uncle Chernomor and with him three heroes came out from under the waves to meet him. The Uncle has a trident in his hand, an arrow is pinned in place of the broken prong.
- Why, good fellow, are you shooting arrows into our sea, muddying the waters?
- Well, the arrow showed me the way where to find a bride. Do you have people who are skilled in needlework and have a pretty face?
- Well, you see for yourself and choose which one you like.
Uncle Chernomor waved his trident and Medusa, Sea Cuttlefish and Turtle emerged from the oncoming wave. Ivan Tsarevich looked at them and said:
- Why don’t you have others?
- We also had Mermaids. So they took thirty of my Bogatyrs and took them with them across the Sea-Ocean, to Buyan Island, to an offshore zone. There they opened thirty travel agencies. Now they are thirty Managers, and Mermaids are luring clients from them. So, only three old heroes and these girls remained with me.
Ivan Tsarevich became sad and said:
- Let these old girls remain your old heroes. But they don’t suit me as princesses.
And he walked along the seashore. He shot the arrow upward again. The arrow flew above the cloud, all the way to the sky. And she fell down with a whistle. Ivan Tsarevich sees a hut on the seashore. The arrow dangles on the roof, showing the direction of the wind. Near the hut, an old man sits at a trough, patching nets. Ivan Tsarevich came up and asked:
- Do you know, elder, where to find a girl here? I need a bride for a princess.
- But where can I find it, my old woman - and she died a long time ago. Unless you find some prey on the net.
The old man threw his net into the sea and pulled out only sand and shells. I threw it a second time and pulled out only sea mud. I threw it in for the third time and didn’t pull out any sand, shells, or mud. Only one Sprat accidentally got entangled in the net. Kilka says to Ivan Tsarevich:
- Take me as your wife. I will love you and I will fulfill everything you wish in love.
Ivan Tsarevich answers her:
- Well, what should I do with you, a young girl? You still need to grow up. Maybe then someone will marry you. And I need to look for my bride.
Ivan Tsarevich became more saddened than before and went on to look for a bride. So that she would be an expert in needlework, and that she would have a good figure and a pretty face, and that she would fall in love with him, and that she would be reasonable, and that she would be fit to be a princess. He walks through fields and forests, through mountains and valleys, along rivers and seas. Day after day, month after month and year after year pass, and still there is no suitable bride for him.
You, good people, if you meet Ivan Tsarevich somewhere, do not refuse to give him a crust of bread and a sip of water. And also, do me a favor and write to [email protected] where, in what regions is he traveling, is he in good health, and did he say when he will return to his distant kingdom, the thirtieth state.
The fairy tale doesn't end here. But whoever listened - well done.

Reviews

It's bad luck...
The prince is just a collective image of our life...
Our loneliness wanders somewhere and never encounters what you will do. Look, the turtles and frogs have all settled in, but there is no less loneliness... A paradox.
Maybe loneliness is like that modern look life? New alternative? And maybe, on the contrary, it’s a great happiness to be alone, and not a vice?
So I keep writing fairy tales about happiness... Or maybe I’ve been happy for a long time, but I don’t even know it?
Anyway.
You've done a good thing, it's heartwarming.

(a piece from my fairy tale, continuing the theme)
... She often went to the stream to sing her songs and play on the ringing web, like on strings, listened to the flow of the water for a long time and thought:
“Lord, where does this stream run all the time?”...

And one day he suddenly stopped and said:
- Baby, will you allow me to get smart with you?
- Oh. Aren't you in a hurry?
- It’s not a sin to linger with such a beauty.
-Where are you running all the time?
- So... from stone to stone. And to the mill. This is the job. And you, I see, are alone all the time? And why?
Doesn't anyone love you?
She smiled sadly.
- The Wind loved me. He would fly in and say, “Hello, honey, here I am! Did you miss me?”
“Hello,” I’ll say, “where have you been?” And he - “Yes, everything was on the seas, on sails, moving ships.”
And it makes noise and has fun... It will gently slide along your cheek, ruffle your hair - and fly away again. And wait for him - don't wait. Now you can't wait anymore. And my Veterok is right there! “Come on,” he says, “let’s fly with me on one good star. I really like it there. She's green, like your eyes." "So it's far away!" And he laughs - "With me? Not far with me!" It will envelop me softly and carry me to the heights... A moment - and we are already on a star. And it’s so good there, so easy... And everything is so beautiful, green - and the lake, and the air, and the coolness, and smoke, and frost... just a little chilly. And my breeze is gentle, warm, will hug you, warm you, run over your skin, stroke it, touch all your fingers... And suddenly it will become completely hot... And then it will say -
"Well, it's time for me. To the seas."
And it will disappear...
- So where is he now, your Wind?
- It flies.
-Are you sad?
- No. I'm lying - I look at the sky, I see a green star - I remember the breeze...

The stream sighed, collected its drops, gurgled and babbled on...
And she heard in the sound of the water -
"Happy..."
(the second tale about... happiness)