So the time came for a jolly feast and for the wedding. But the princess was still full of wiles. She asked herself and she sought to know whence God had sent him such enormous wealth. So she invited him to be her guest, received him, honoured him. And the doughty youth fell sick, and he vomited up the liver of the hen, and the Tsarévna swallowed it. From that day gold fell from her lips, and she would not have her bridegroom with her. “What shall I do with this ignoramus?” she asked her boyárs , and she asked her generals. “He has had the idiotic idea of wanting to marry me.”

So the boyárs said he must be hung, and the generals said he must be shot. But the Tsarévna had a better idea⁠—that he ought to be sent to hell.