"Long ago in the river port called Novgorod the Great, there lived a young musician named Sadko…he was proud of his city…Yet sometimes Sadko was lonely. The maidens who danced gaily to his music at the feast would often smile at him…But they were rich and he was poor and not one of them would think of being his."
"Just then the ship shuddered to a halt. The wind filled the sails, yet the ship stood still, as if a giant hand had grasped it. Some of the sailors cursed in fear, while others prayed for their lives."It must be the king of the sea!" the captain cried.'Perhaps he seeks tribute--or someone among us.' "
"That night Sadko lay beside his bride on a bed of seaweed. She's so lovely, thought Sadko, so charming…How can I not hold her? But time after time, the queen's words came back to him--never return to your city again--and his arms lay frozen at his side...When Sadko awoke the next morning, he felt the sunlight on his face."
"Yet sometimes still on a quiet evening he would walk out of the city alone, sit on the bank, and send his tinkling music over the water. And sometimes too a lovley head would rise from the river to listen."
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