VIII.—GODMOTHER DEATH.
There was a man, very poor in this world’s goods, whose wife presented him with a baby boy. No one was willing to stand sponsor, because he was so very poor. The father said to himself: ‘Dear Lord, I am so poor that no one is willing to be at my service in this matter; I’ll take the baby, I’ll go, and I’ll ask the first person I meet to act as sponsor, and if I don’t meet anybody, perhaps the sexton will help me.’ He went and met Death, but didn’t know what manner of person she was; she was a handsome woman, like any other woman. He asked her to be godmother. She didn’t make any excuse, and immediately saluted him as parent of her godchild, took the baby in her arms, and carried him to church. The little lad was properly christened. When they came out of church, the child’s father took the godmother to an inn, and wanted to give her a little treat as godmother. But she said to him, ‘Gossip,[1] leave this alone, and come with me to my abode.’ She took him with her to her apartment, which was very handsomely furnished. Afterwards she conducted him into great vaults, and through these vaults they went right into the under-world in the dark. There tapers were burning of three sizes—small, large, and middle-sized; and those which were not yet alight were very large. The godmother said to the godchild’s father: ‘Look, Gossip, here I have the duration of everybody’s life.’ The child’s father gazed thereat, found there a tiny taper close to the very ground, and asked her: ‘But, Gossip, I pray you, whose is this little taper close to the ground?’ She said to him: ‘That is yours! When any taper whatsoever burns down, I must go for that man.’ He said to her: ‘Gossip, I pray you, give me somewhat additional.’ She said to him: ‘Gossip, I cannot do that!’ Afterwards she went and lighted a large new taper for the baby boy whom they had had christened. Meanwhile, while the godmother was not looking, the child’s father took for himself a large new taper, lit it, and placed it where his tiny taper was burning down.
[1] The Slavonians are rich in terms, both masculine and feminine, expressing the various relationships between godparents and godchildren and their parents. We have only one form, ‘gossip,’ which thus has to do duty for both the godmother and the father of the godchild.
The godmother looked round at him and said: ‘Gossip, you ought not to have done that to me; but if you have given yourself additional lifetime, you have done so and possess it. Let us go hence, and we’ll go to your wife.’
She took a present, and went with the child’s father and the child to the mother. She arrived, and placed the boy on his mother’s bed, and asked her how she was, and whether she had any pain anywhere. The mother confided her griefs to her, and the father sent for some beer, and wanted to entertain her in his cottage, as godmother, in order to gratify her and show his gratitude. They drank and feasted together. Afterwards the godmother said to her godchild’s father: ‘Gossip, you are so poor that no one but myself would be at your service in this matter; but never mind, you shall bear me in memory! I will go to the houses of various respectable people and make them ill, and you shall physic and cure them. I will tell you all the remedies. I possess them all, and everybody will be glad to recompense you well, only observe this: When I stand at anyone’s feet, you can be of assistance to every such person; but if I stand at anybody’s head, don’t attempt to aid him.’ It came to pass. The child’s father went from patient to patient, where the godmother caused illness, and benefited every one. All at once he became a distinguished physician. A prince was dying—nay, he had breathed his last—nevertheless, they sent for the physician. He came, he began to anoint him with salves and give him his powders, and did him good. When he had restored him to health, they paid him well, without asking how much they were indebted. Again, a count was dying. They sent for the physician again. The physician came. Death was standing behind the bed at his head. The physician cried: ‘It’s a bad case, but we’ll have a try.’ He summoned the servants, and ordered them to turn the bed round with the patient’s feet towards Death, and began to anoint him with salves and administer powders into his mouth, and did him good. The count paid him in return as much as he could carry away, without ever asking how much he was indebted; he was only too glad that he had restored him to health. When Death met the physician, she said to him: ‘Gossip, if this occurs to you again, don’t play me that trick any more. True, you have done him good, but only for a while; I must, none the less, take him off whither he is due.’ The child’s father went on in this way for some years; he was now very old. But at last he was wearied out, and asked Death herself to take him. Death was unable to take him, because he had given himself a long additional taper; she was obliged to wait till it burned out. One day he drove to a certain patient to restore him to health, and did so. Afterwards Death revealed herself to him, and rode with him in his carriage. She began to tickle and play with him, and tap him with a green twig under the throat; he threw himself into her lap, and went off into the last sleep. Death laid him in the carriage, and took herself off. They found the physician lying dead in his carriage, and conveyed him home. The whole town and all the villages lamented: ‘That physician is much to be regretted. What a good doctor he was! He was of great assistance; there will never be his like again!’ His son remained after him, but had not the same skill.
The son went one day into church, and his godmother met him. She asked him: ‘My dear son, how are you?’ He said to her: ‘Not all alike; so long as I have what my dad saved up for me, it is well with me, but after that the Lord God knows how it will be with me.’ His godmother said: ‘Well, my son, fear nought. I am your christening mamma; I helped your father to what he had, and will give you, too, a livelihood. You shall go to a physician as a pupil, and you shall be more skilful than he, only behave nicely.’ After this she anointed him with salve over the ears, and conducted him to a physician. The physician didn’t know what manner of lady it was, and what sort of son she brought him for instruction. The lady enjoined her son to behave nicely, and requested the physician to instruct him well, and bring him into a good position. Then she took leave of him and departed. The physician and the lad went together to gather herbs, and each herb cried out to the pupil what remedial virtue it had, and the pupil gathered it. The physician also gathered herbs, but knew not, with regard to any herb, what remedial virtue it possessed. The pupil’s herbs were beneficial in every disease. The physician said to the pupil: ‘You are cleverer than I, for I diagnose no one that comes to me; but you know herbs counter to every disease. Do you know what? Let us join partnership. I will give my doctor’s diploma up to you, and will be your assistant, and am willing to be with you till death.’ The lad was successful in doctoring and curing till his taper burned out in limbo.
IX.—THE FOUR BROTHERS.
There was, once upon a time, a huntsman who had four sons, and these sons wanted to go to gain experience in the world. When they were all over sixteen years old, they said to their father: ‘We are going into the world, father; we pray you give us money for our journey.’ The father gave them 100 florins and a horse apiece. They mounted their horses and rode to the mountains. On a mountain were four roads, and between them stood a beech-tree. At this beech-tree they halted, and the eldest said to the rest, ‘Brothers, let us separate here, and go each by a different road to seek his fortune in the world. Let us each stick his knife into this beech-tree, and in a year and a day let us all meet together here. These knives will be tokens for us; if any one of the knives is rusty, the one of us to whom it belongs will be dead; and he whose knife is free from rust will be alive and well.’ They separated, and went each his way, and when they came to suitable places they each learned a handicraft. The eldest learned to be a cobbler, the second to be a thief, the third to be an astrologer, and the fourth to be a huntsman. When the year and day arrived, they started on their return. The eldest came first to the beech-tree, pulled out his own knife and looked at the other knives. Seeing that they were all free from rust, he rejoiced, and said, ‘Praise be to God! we are all alive and well.’ He went home. When he came to his father, his father asked him, ‘What manner of handicraft have you learnt?’ The son replied, ‘Daddy, it’s no use telling you stories; I’m a cobbler.’ The father said, ‘Well, you’ve learned a nice gainful handicraft.’ The son answered, ‘But, daddy, I’m not a cobbler like other cobblers, but I’m this kind of cobbler: if anything is worn out, I only say, “Let it be mended up,” and it is so at once.’ The father had a coat worn out at the elbows, and told him to cobble it up. The son gave the command, ‘Let it be mended up,’ and in a moment the coat was mended up as if it were brand new, nor was it possible to know that it had been mended at all. Upon this the father said nothing more. The next day the second son came to the beech. He pulled out his own knife, and looked at the remaining two; the third was already gone. Seeing that they were both free from rust, he rejoiced, and said, ‘Praise be to God! we are all alive and well; our eldest brother is at home already.’ He also went home. When he came to his father, his father asked him, ‘What manner of handicraft have you learned?’ The son replied, ‘Dear daddy, it’s no use telling stories to you; I’m a thief.’ The father said, ‘Oh, you’ve learned a nice gainful trade! Shame on you!’ The son said to him, ‘But, daddy, I’m not a thief like a thief, but I’m such a thief that, if I think of anything, be it where it may, I have it with me at once.’ Just then a hare came running on the hillside; it could be seen through the window; the father told him to fetch the hare. The son immediately said, ‘Let yon hare be here,’ and it was with them at once. After this the father said no more. The third day the third son came to the beech, pulled out his own knife and looked at the other knife, two not being there. Seeing that it was clear of rust, he said, ‘Praise be to God! we are all alive and well; my two elder brothers are at home already.’ He also went home. When he came to his father, his father asked him what manner of handicraft he had learned. The son replied, ‘Dear daddy, it’s no use to tell you stories; I’m an astrologer.’ His father said to him that it was a nice pretty handicraft. The son answered, ‘But, daddy, I am this kind of astrologer: if I look at the sky, I see at once where anything is in the whole earth.’ On the fourth day the youngest son came to the beech and pulled out his knife, the other three being there no longer. He was glad, and said, ‘My brothers are already all at home.’ He also went home. When he came to his father, the father asked him what manner of handicraft he had learned. The son answered that he was a huntsman. The father said, ‘Anyhow, you have not despised my craft; for that you’re a good lad.’ The son said, ‘But, dear daddy, I’m not such a huntsman as you are, but one of this kind; if there is an unusually fine head of game, I say, “Let it be shot,” and immediately shot it is.’ There was a hare darting along the hillside; it was visible through the window. The father said, ‘Shoot it!’ The youngest son spoke the word, and the hare lay dead. The father said, ‘I don’t see whether it is lying dead.’ The astrologer looked at the sky, and said, ‘Yes, daddy, it’s lying there behind the bushes.’ The father said, ‘Yes, it’s lying there, but how are we to get it?’ The brother who was a thief said, ‘Let it be here,’ and immediately there it was. But it had come through thorny bushes, and was all torn. The father said, ‘The whole skin is torn; who’ll buy it of us?’ The brother who was a cobbler said, ‘Let it be mended up,’ and immediately mended up it was. The father said, ‘Well, you’ll all four maintain yourselves by your handicrafts.’
They lived for some time at home with their father, and maintained themselves well. Then a king lost the princess, his daughter, and made proclamation that whoever should find her, to that person he would give his daughter and the kingdom as well. The brothers said to one another, ‘Let us go thither.’ The father didn’t give them leave to go, but go they did, and gave out that they were the people who would find the lost princess. The king immediately sent a carriage for them. When they came to the king, they said that they understood he had made proclamation that his daughter was lost, and that he would give her and the kingdom as well to whoever should find her. The king said that this was very truth, and immediately asked them to tell him where his daughter was. The astrologer replied that he could not tell him just then, but when evening came he would perceive in the sky where she was. About eight or nine o’clock they went out and gazed at the sky. The astrologer said that she had been taken captive by a dragon; that the dragon had seized her as she was out walking, and was keeping her on an island beyond the Red Sea; that she was obliged to fondle him for two hours every day, and that the dragon then had his head placed on her lap. When day came, they assembled and drove in the carriage to the Red Sea. Then they got into a boat and rowed to the island where the princess was. When they arrived at the island, the princess was out walking, and the dragon wasn’t at home; but the princess made signs to them that they were in evil case, for the dragon was just flying home. The thief-brother called out with speed, ‘Let the princess be here!’ She was with them in the boat at once, but cried out that they were in evil case, and would all perish. They rowed speedily away in the boat, but the dragon, full of wrath, roared and growled and rose in the air above them. The astrologer said to the huntsman, ‘Brother, shoot him.’ The huntsman-brother said, ‘Let him be shot.’ The dragon was shot, but fell on the boat and broke a hole in it, so that the water came in. They threw the dragon into the sea, and the huntsman-brother gave the word to the cobbler-brother, ‘Mend the leak.’ The cobbler-brother mended the leak, so that not a drop of water came into the boat to them. Thus they arrived safely with the princess at the sea-shore, landed on the beach, took their seats in the carriage with the princess, and drove off. But as they drove along in the carriage, they disputed to which of them the princess and the kingdom belonged. The astrologer said, ‘The princess is mine. If it hadn’t been for me, we shouldn’t have known where the princess was.’ The thief said, ‘The princess is mine. If it hadn’t been for me, we shouldn’t have got the princess into the boat.’ The huntsman said that the princess was his; if it hadn’t been for him, they wouldn’t have shot the dragon. The cobbler shouted that the princess was his; if it hadn’t been for him, they would all have been drowned and have perished. When they came to the palace to the king, they asked him to decide to whom the princess belonged. The king said, ‘Dear brothers, I will judge you righteously. It is true that you have all deserved her, but you cannot all obtain her. According to my promise, the astrologer-brother must obtain her, for I made proclamation that whoever should find the lost princess should obtain her and the kingdom with her; the astrologer found her, and told us where she was. But, that none of you may be unfairly dealt with, each shall receive a district of his own, and ye shall each be kings in your own districts.’ They were all content. The astrologer, as soon as the wedding was over, sent home for his father. The father came, and was delighted that his sons had become monarchs each in his district. In the spring he lived with the cobbler, in the summer with the thief, in the autumn with the huntsman, and in winter with the astrologer, and enjoyed himself everywhere till death.