So, in the morning early, very early, Marýshko the son of Parán arose, together with the little sun, and he led out the stout horses to water them in the swift stream. Túgarin Zmyéyevich flew into the open and challenged Alyósha Popóvich to fight him in the open field. And Marýshko Paránov came to Alyósha Popóvich and said: “God must be your judge, Alyósha Popóvich: you would not give me your steel knife; I should have carved out the white breast from that pagan thief, should have gouged out his bright eyes, and I should have taken out his mettlesome heart and gazed on it. Now, what will you make of Túgarin? He is flying about in the open.”

Then Alyósha Popóvich spake in this wise: “That was no service, but treachery.”

So Alyósha led out his horse, saddled it with a Circassian saddle, fastened it on with twelve silken girths, not for the sake of decoration, but for the sake of strength. Alyósha set out into the open field, and he saw Túgarin Zmyéyevich, who was flying in the open.