The Tsarevna Frog

Long ago, in an old Russian kingdom, there lived a ruling prince and his wife with their three sons, all young and so fine that no pen could describe them. The youngest was called Ivan Tsarevitch. One day their father said, “My dear boys, each of you take an arrow, draw your strong bow and shoot. Wherever your arrow lands, there you will find your wife.”

The eldest son’s arrow landed at a nobleman’s house, right in front of the women’s rooms. The second son’s arrow flew to the red porch of a rich merchant, where the merchant’s sweet daughter was standing. But Ivan was unlucky. His arrow fell into the middle of a swamp, and a croaking frog caught it.

“How can I marry a frog?” Ivan complained to his father. “She’s certainly no match for me.” “Never mind,” said his father. “You must marry her. It is plainly your fate.” So the eldest married a nobleman’s daughter, the second married the merchant’s lovely daughter, and Ivan married a croaking frog.

Some time later the old prince called his sons and said, “Tell your wives to bake me a loaf of bread by tomorrow morning.”

Ivan came home with a frown and no smile on his face. “Croak, croak! My dear husband, why so sad?” asked the frog gently. “Did something unpleasant happen at the palace?” “It certainly did. My father wants you to bake a loaf of white bread by tomorrow.” “Don’t worry, Tsarevitch. Go to bed. Morning is wiser than evening.”

Ivan took her advice and went to sleep. Then the frog threw off her frog skin and became a beautiful girl named Vassilissa. She stepped out onto the porch and called, “Nurses and servants, come quickly and bake me a loaf of white bread by morning, exactly like the ones I used to eat in my royal father’s palace.”

Ivan woke when the cocks crowed, as the tale marks the coming of morning, but the loaf was already baked, and it was too marvellous for words, the kind of bread found only in fairyland. Its crust was decorated all over with little figures, with towns and fortresses on every side, and inside it was as white as snow and as light as a feather. The old prince was delighted and thanked Ivan specially.

“Now here’s another task,” he said with a smile. “Have each of your wives weave a rug by tomorrow.”

Again Ivan came home frowning. “Croak, croak! Dear husband, why so troubled again? Wasn’t your father pleased?” “How can I help being troubled? My father wants a rug by tomorrow.” “Don’t worry. Go to bed and go to sleep. Morning will bring help.” Again the frog turned into Vassilissa the Wise and called out, “Dear nurses and faithful servants, here is new work. Weave a silk rug like the one I used to sit on in my father’s palace.”

No sooner said than done. When the cocks began their early crowing, Ivan woke to find the most beautiful silk rug spread before him, with threads of silver and gold woven among bright silks. It was too lovely to do anything but admire. His father was pleased and thanked him, and then gave a new order. He wanted to see his sons’ three wives, and they were to come to the palace the next day.

Ivan came home with a darker frown than ever. “Croak, croak! Tsarevitch, my dear husband, why so sad? Did you hear bad news at the palace?” “Bad enough! My father has ordered us all to bring our wives to him. How can I dare go with you?” “It isn’t so bad, and it could be much worse,” croaked the frog softly. “Go on ahead and I’ll follow. When you hear a noise, a great big noise, don’t be frightened. Just say, ‘Here comes my wretched little froggy in her wretched little box.'”

The two older brothers arrived first with their wives, who were pretty, bright, cheerful and richly dressed. Both brothers teased Ivan. “Why on your own, brother? Why didn’t you bring your wife? Couldn’t you find a rag to cover her? Where did you find such a beauty? We bet there isn’t another like her in all our father’s swamps!” And they laughed and laughed.

Suddenly there was a tremendous noise. The palace shook and the guests were terrified. Only Ivan stayed calm. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s just my froggy arriving in her box.” Up to the red porch flew a golden carriage drawn by six splendid white horses, and out stepped Vassilissa, more beautiful than words can say, and gave her hand to her husband. He led her to the heavy oak tables, spread with snow-white cloths and loaded with wonderful dishes of the kind that are only eaten in fairyland, and the guests ate and chatted merrily.

Vassilissa drank a little wine and poured the rest from her cup into her left sleeve. She ate some roast swan and dropped the bones into her right sleeve. The two other wives watched her and did exactly the same.

When the long dinner was over, the dancing and singing began. Lovely Vassilissa stepped forward, shining like a star, bowed to the prince and to the guests and danced with her happy husband. As she danced, she waved her left sleeve, and a pretty lake appeared in the middle of the hall and cooled the air. She waved her right sleeve, and white swans floated on the water. The prince, the guests, the servants and even the grey cat in the corner stared at her in wonder. Only her two sisters-in-law were jealous. When it was their turn to dance, they waved their left sleeves too, and splashed wine everywhere. They waved their right sleeves, and instead of swans, bones flew out and hit the old prince in the face. He was furious and ordered them out of the palace.

Meanwhile Ivan waited for a moment when nobody was looking, slipped away and ran home. He found the frog skin and burned it in the fire.

When Vassilissa came home, she searched for her skin. When she could not find it, her lovely face grew sad and her bright eyes filled with tears. “Oh, dear Tsarevitch, what have you done? I had only a little longer to wear that ugly skin, and soon we could have been happy together for good. Now I must say goodbye. Look for me in a faraway land that nobody knows the way to, at the palace of Kostshei the Deathless.” And she turned into a white swan and flew out of the window.

Ivan wept bitterly. Then he prayed, crossed himself towards the north, south, east and west, and set off on a mysterious journey.

Nobody knows how long he travelled, but one day he met a very old man and bowed to him. “Good day, young man. What are you looking for, and where are you going?” Ivan told him all his troubles, hiding nothing. “Why did you burn the frog skin? That was a mistake. Listen to me. Vassilissa was born wiser than her own father, and he was so jealous of her wisdom that he made her live as a frog for three long years. But I feel sorry for you and I want to help. Here is a magic ball. Wherever it rolls, follow it without fear.”

Ivan thanked the kind old man and followed the ball, and his road was long, very long. One day, in a wide field full of flowers, he met a big Russian bear and raised his bow to shoot it. “Don’t kill me, kind Tsarevitch,” said the bear. “Who knows, I may be useful to you.” So Ivan spared the bear. Then a lovely white duck flew over in the sunny air, and again he drew his bow. “Don’t kill me, good Tsarevitch,” said the duck. “I’ll surely be useful to you one day.” So he let the duck go. Further on he saw a grey hare blinking at him, and he fitted an arrow to his bow. “Don’t kill me, brave Tsarevitch,” said the hare. “I’ll prove my gratitude very soon.” So he passed the hare by.

Following the rolling ball, he came at last to the deep blue sea. On the sand lay a big fish (I don’t remember what kind), almost dead from lying in the sun. “Ivan Tsarevitch,” it begged, “have pity on me and push me back into the cool water.” Ivan did, and walked on along the shore.

The ball led him to a strange tiny hut standing on tiny hen’s feet. “Little hut, little hut, turn your front to me!” cried Ivan, and the hut turned round at once. Inside he found Baba Yaga. “Ho, Ivan Tsarevitch! What brings you here?” she said. “You old troublemaker!” shouted Ivan crossly. “Is this how we do things in holy Russia, asking questions before a tired guest has had something to eat and drink and hot water to wash off the dust?”

So Baba Yaga gave him plenty to eat and drink and hot water to wash in. Ivan felt better, grew talkative and told her the whole wonderful story of his marriage, how he had lost his dear wife and how all he wanted was to find her. “I know all about it,” said the witch. “She is at the palace of Kostshei the Deathless, and you must understand that Kostshei is terrible. He watches her day and night, and nobody can defeat him. His death depends on a magic needle, hidden within a sequence of creatures and objects: an egg, a duck, a hare and a chest. The chest is hidden in the branches of an old oak tree, and Kostshei guards that oak as closely as he guards Vassilissa herself, more closely than any of his treasures.” Then she told Ivan how to find the oak.

Ivan hurried there, but when he saw the great oak he lost heart, with no idea what to do or where to start. Then along came his old friend the bear, who pulled the tree up by its roots. The chest fell and broke open, and a hare leapt out and raced away. But Ivan’s friend the grey hare was after it in a flash and caught it. Out of the hare flew a grey duck, climbing so high it was almost out of sight, but the white duck went after it and struck it, and the grey duck dropped an egg. The egg fell into the deep sea. Ivan, who had been anxiously watching his faithful friends, burst into tears when it vanished under the blue water. Suddenly a big fish swam up, the very fish he had saved, carrying the egg in its mouth. How happy Ivan was as he took it! He broke it open and found the magic needle inside, the needle on which everything depended.

At that very moment Kostshei lost all his strength and power. Ivan entered his vast lands, killed him with the magic needle and found his own dear Vassilissa in one of the palaces. He took her home, and they were happy together for the rest of their days.

Where this story comes from

“The Tsarevna Frog” is the first tale in Verra Xenophontovna Kalamatiano de Blumenthal’s Folk Tales from the Russian (Project Gutenberg #12851). Blumenthal pauses in the middle of the story to explain that izboushka is what “in Russia do they name small huts,” and her notes gloss the terem, the women’s quarters where the eldest prince’s arrow lands, and the boyarishnia, a nobleman’s daughter.

Her villain is spelled Kostshei the Deathless, the same figure many English books call Koschei. In this version the needle linked to his death is inside an egg, inside a duck, inside a hare, inside a chest in an oak, and the animals Ivan spared on the road each solve one part of that puzzle. The old man explains that Vassilissa’s own father turned her into a frog for three years because he envied her wisdom.

Read the original: Verra Xenophontovna Kalamatiano de Blumenthal, Folk Tales from the Russian (Project Gutenberg #12851)

Best for ages 9–12 with discussion: marriages commanded by a father, a woman transformed and later held captive, animal pursuits and the killing of the captor. Vassilissa’s appearance is not the measure of her worth.

Reading the story closely

Two fathers exercise power over marriages or forms: Ivan’s father orders the arrow marriages, while Vassilissa’s father punishes wisdom that exceeds his own. Ivan adds another decision about her body by destroying the skin without asking her. His repair begins when he listens—to the old man, animals and Baba Yaga—instead of assuming that he knows what she needs.

Draw the nested sequence from oak to needle, then put each helper beside the obstacle it solves. Saving the fish is different from merely declining to hunt the other animals, and all four abilities are needed. Compare this cooperation with the sisters-in-law copying sleeves: they imitate the outward gesture without knowing the source of its power. The opening tasks also depend on Vassilissa’s nurses and servants, whose work the prince’s praise overlooks.

Talk about it

• Why does Ivan burn the frog skin, and why is that a mistake?
• How do the animals Ivan spared repay him at the oak tree?
• What do the two other wives get wrong when they try to copy Vassilissa?

More stories like this

• Koschei the Deathless — a different Koschei adventure, with Marya Morevna, captivity and a pursuit on magical horses
• Baba Yaga — the witch in her hut on hen’s legs appears again
• Seven Simeons — a princess changes into a swan, a fish and a mouse in another Blumenthal tale