"I must get the horse ready! Oh, my servant can do that!"
So Iván Tsarévich called Katomá, and said: "Come into the stable and command the grooms to bring the horse out; ride it, and to-morrow I will go to church on it."
But Katomá could see the guile in the Tsarévna's heart, and instantly went into the stable and ordered them to bring the horse out. Twelve grooms opened the twelve locks, undid twelve doors, and led the magical horse out by twelve chains. Katomá went up to him, and as soon as ever he had swung himself on to the horse's back the steed rose high into the air, higher than the tree-tops in the forest, lower than the clouds in heaven. But Katomá had a firm seat, and with one hand he held the mane, and with the other he fetched an iron sheet out of his pocket and struck the palfrey between the ears.
One sheet broke, then he took a second and a third; and after the third broke he was taking the fourth. The horse was so tired that it could not resist him any more, but spoke in a human voice: "Father Katomá, leave me some life, and I will come down to earth and whatever you will I will do."
"Listen then, wretched animal!" Katomá answered. "To-morrow Iván Tsarévich will ride you to his wedding. Listen! When the servants take you into the broad courtyard, and he comes up to you and lays his hand on you, stand still: do not prick your ear. When he mounts, kneel down with your hoofs on the ground, and step under him with a heavy tread as if you were bearing a burdensome load." So the horse sank half-dead on to the earth. Katomá, seated by the tail, hailed the grooms and said, "Ho, you there! grooms and coachmen, take this carrion into the stable."
Next day came, and the hour for going to church. The Tsarévna had a carriage ready, and the Tsarévich
