Comforting speaks her brother to her: 
  “Weep not, weep not, my sister dear! 
  Weep not away thy eyes so clear,
  Dim not, O dim not thy face so fair,
  Make not heavy thy joyous heart! 
  Say, for what is it thou weepest so? 
  Is ’t for my goods, my inheritance? 
  Is ’t for my lands, so rich and wide? 
  Is ’t for my silver, or is ’t for my gold? 
  Or dost thou weep for my life alone?”

  “Ah, thou, my light, my brother dear,
  Not for thy goods or inheritance,
  Not for thy lands, so rich and wide,
  Is ’t that my eyes are weeping so;
  Not for thy silver and not for thy gold,
  ’Tis for thy life, I am weeping so.”

  “Ah, thou, my light, my sister sweet! 
  Thou mayest weep, but it won’t avail;
  Thou mayest beg, but ’t is all in vain;
  Pray to the Tzar, but he will not yield. 
  Merciful truly was God to me,
  Truly gracious to me the Tzar,
  So he commanded my traitor head
  Off should be hewn from my shoulders strong.”

  Now the scaffold the prince ascends. 
  Calmly mounts to the place of death;
  Prays to his Great Redeemer there,
  Humbly salutes the crowd around;
  “Farewell world, and thou people of God;
  Pray for my sins that burden me sore!”

  Scarce had the people ventured then
  On him to look, when his traitor head
  Off was hewn from his shoulders strong.[27]

P.

We add another more modern heroic ballad, composed, perhaps, by one of the soldiers, who was present at the exploit.  The first siege of Azof took place in 1695.  The fortress was, however, not taken by storm, although repeated assaults were made; but the garrison capitulated in the following year.  The great white Tzar is of course Peter I.[28]

THE STORMING OF AZOF.

  The poor soldiers have no rest,
    Neither night nor day! 
  Late at evening the word was given
    To the soldiers gay;
  All night long their weapons cleaning,
    Were the soldiers good,
  Ready in the morning dawn,
    All in ranks they stood.

  Not a golden trumpet is it,
    That now sounds so clear;
  Nor the silver flute’s tone is it,
    That thou now dost hear. 
  ’Tis the great white Tzar who speaketh,
    ’Tis our father dear. 
  Come, my princes, my Boyars,
    Nobles, great and small! 
  Now consider and invent
    Good advice, ye all! 
  How the soonest, how the quickest,
    Fort Azof may fall?

  The Boyars, they stood in silence.—­
    And our father dear,
  He again began to speak
    In his eye a tear: 
  Come, my children, good dragoons,
    And my soldiers all,
  Now consider and invent
    Brave advice, ye all,
  How the soonest, how the quickest,
    Fort Azof may fall?

  Like a humming swarm of bees,
  So the soldiers spake,
  With one voice at once they spake: 
  “Father, dear, great Tzar! 
  Fall it must! and all our lives
  Thereon we gladly stake.”