Folk Tales of the Russian Empire. Коллектив авторов
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How could I get this beauty?”
“It’s impossible, – she has a husband!” Mirali replied firmly (Mirali was born in a poor family and had never forgotten about it).
“She stole my heart, and my life will be nothing without her!”
“Anyway, My Lord, dismiss this whim from your mind. What does Sharia say? Don’t you know, that it is prohibited to mess about with married women? All the faithful will despise you!”
“Well, if so, I can reach my goal without you, by hook or by crook!” replied the sovereign heatedly. “And you, the mortal, go to her husband and offer him your service as an adviser!”
Sultansoyun was in a severe outbreak of passion. He did not go further to his palace, but stayed in the house of a rich Bai (landowner) and sent him for the husband of that beautiful woman.
Mirali went the same way at a rapid pace, having said Padishah that he wanted to visit a friend who lived in that village. He first came to the husband of the woman, who was just a poor peasant, and warned him, that Padishah will probably summon him and give him a tricky assignment. He also said that it is impossible to refuse the order and that he, Mirali, would help him to carry out this mandate.
The supreme vizier had well known his Master! Everything happened as he had predicted. After him, there came a breathless landowner. He stopped in front of the husband and gave him the order to appear before Padishah. With great respect, the man hastened to execute orders of the almighty Padishah…
“What is your name?” Sultansoyun asked the peasant.
“Karakuduke,” replied the man.
“Karakuduke? Excellent! So, Karakuduke, I used to be curious about people wherever I go, and to give them some unusual assignments. If a man carried out my task, then I would reward him; if he couldn’t or not very keen on it, – I would punish him. You are the most extraordinary man in this village. You have a strange name, uncommon face, and maybe there is something else, that is not the same as everyone has, eh?”
“I am an ordinary dehkaneen (peasant), but this is a rare thing and great happiness – to serve Almighty Padishah,” replied the poor man respectfully. “I will do everything that you are pleased to suggest!”
“It’s wonderful! I’ll give you a stallion, a couple of bulls, and a dozen of rams. Exactly six months later, you should get a litter from each of them!”
Karakuduke bent into a bow in consent. But someone shouted from the crowd of spectators:
“Wai, you have lost your head, a miserable! Is it possible to obtain an offspring from a male?”
“Padishah is a Vicar of God on Earth. If he believes that males can give an offspring, then let it be!” replied the peasant.
…Six months passed there, and Padishah and his vizier paid a visit to that village again. Padishah stayed in the house of the same Bai, and Mirali, having asked for permission to visit his friend, went to Karakuduke and introduced the spouses into his plan, because nothing had happened with the presented livestock.
Mirali barely had time to get away from that house, as Padishah sent a man for Karakuduke. The messenger returned then to Padishah and reported him that the peasant could not appear before the eyes of the sovereign, because he was ill.
“Let his wife come here,” said the Father of the Faithful.
The poor woman came to the house of Bai and confirmed that her husband fell ill.
“What has happened to him?” asked Padishah.
“He is giving birth to a child, – there started contractions,” said the woman.
Sultansoyun laughed:
“How could it happen that a man bears children?”
“Oh, Gracious Padishah,” the woman said innocently, “If a bull is able to calve, a stallion – to foal, a ram – to lamb, why can’t my husband give birth to a child?”
Padishah was surprised and annoyed, but he had nothing to argue. He smiled at the beautiful woman and let her go in peace. Then he shook his finger at Mirali:
“I see, – it couldn’t happen without you!”
“I just fulfilled a desire of Your Majesty,” said Mirali with downcast eyes.
“My desire?!”
“If you remember, you had said, “Whereas you are not able to help me, go to the husband of the beauty and offer him your service as an adviser!”
The Angry Landlord
A Vologda region folk tale
The main routes for their ships being the great rivers of the north, such as the Sukhona, which flows 300 miles to the north-east before joining the Vychegda to form the Northern Dvina. Because the low watershed at White Lake (Beloye ozero) was the door to the whole north-western region, the Novgoroders” name for these lands was Zavolochye – “beyond the portage”, from the Russian word volok (portage).
A History of the Peoples of Siberia, by James Forsyth
In the old days there lived a landlord with his wife in his ancestral manor. The landlord was keen on hunting and kept purebred dogs and horses. He was a man of character and no one could carry out his directives and commands as he had hoped. Therefore he was usually so angry that all peasants and servants were afraid of him and lived in fear and trembling.
One day he went to the town on commercial matters, and in the evening he visited a private club to drink some vodka with his friends. There was a large gathering of men to play cards. The angry landlord was lucky and won an estate from a wealthy merchant.
Straight from the town he went to his new house in the countryside and stayed there for a while to arrange economic affairs. His wife at that time remained as a hostess in his patrimony. The gentleman lingered for a few weeks in his new place, and in the meantime some trouble had occurred in his old house.
There was an urgent need to tell the landlord what had happened, but no one dared to do that. However, there lived a simple-minded bloke, Stepan, in that village, and the villagers persuaded him to go to their master.
“Well, if you want, I will go!” replied Stepan.
About three days the poor man went on foot to the new estate. When he got there, hungry and tired, the angry landlord having seen him from afar, unleashed the dogs on him, just out of boredom. The dogs rushed to Stepan but he gave them some bread and they let him alone. Stepan came into the house, bowed to his master and said:
“Good morning, sir!”
“Hey, what do you want? What’s the word on my wife?”
“There is almost nothing new at home, just I broke a knife the other day.”
“What is it about the knife?”
“We were just going to skin your hound. But when we started, the blade of my knife broke into pieces!”
“Which hound? What are you babbling about, you, scoundrel?”
“It was that dog, with which you used to go hunting. When you had bought her from the previous owner, you gave three serfs for her!”
“What are you clapping about, wicked liar? So, you mean that my best hound died, but why?”
“She ate too much horseflesh, – meat of your stallion!”
“Damn it all! Oh no, has my stallion died?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What a misfortune, I’m awfully sorry! Why did he die?”
“He