is Yaroslav Lasarevich,
and my mother is the Tsarina Anastasia. But I know not my father; and
for this reason I am come hither in search of him. My name is
Yaroslav."

On hearing this, his father leaped from his horse, raised his son, and
pressed him to his heart. Then they mounted their steeds and rode to
the city of Dobri, where they found all the people in lamentation, for
the Tsar Vorcholomei was dead. But the people recognised the knights,
and bowed before them and said: "Hail, our Lord Yaroslav Lasarevich
with your noble son! Our Tsar has left the dominion of our kingdom to
thee." Then the Tsarevna Anastasia came forth from her palace, fell to
the earth, and with tears exclaimed: "O my bright Sun, whence comest
thou to warm and cheer us?" Then she took him by his white hands and
led him into the royal apartments; and all the people, the princes
and boyars, made their obeisance to Yaroslav, and brought him rich
presents.

Yaroslav mounted the throne with great pomp, took the sceptre, put on
the purple robes, and set the golden crown upon his head. Then he
called his son to him and said: "My dear child, take a war-horse, a
suit of armour, a battle sword and lance, and ride forth. Sit firmly
on thy horse, and be a brave knight, as I have been. Ride to the
kingdom of Daniil the White, to the Tsar Kartaus, and thy grandfather
Prince Lasar; then to my brother-in-arms, Ivan the Russian knight, who
now rules in the kingdom of the Tsar Feodul the Dragon-King, and to
the mighty knight, Raslanei, who rules in the kingdom of the Tsar
Fireshield. Inquire after the health of them all, and return to me.
Upon the journey be gentle and courteous, but brave." So Yaroslav
received his parent's blessing, and set out on his travels.

In five years he had journeyed and paid all these visits, and returned
to his father. And on the way a little old man met him and stopped up
the road; but he asked him: "Old man, why dost thou place thyself in
my way, and wilt not let me pass?" And so saying, he was about to ride
over him, but the little old man saw his intention and said to him:
"Poor knight, wouldst thou kill a little old man? Thou canst get
nothing from the old." This did not please Yaroslav: he drew his sword
to slay the man; but just as he was rushing at him the old man blew on
him, and Yaroslav could not withstand even this mere breath of wind,
and fell from his horse like a sheaf of corn. Then the old man took
him by the arm an