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The King Who Liked Fairy Tales

Once upon a time there lived a king whose favorite pastime was to listen to fairy tales. He wanted fresh stories everyday. His courtiers had told him all the stories they knew already and nothing satisfied him any more The King issued a proclamation:
“I will give my daughter in marriage and half kingdom to the man who'll tell me a fairy tale I've never heard before.”
There were many responses from among the princes and the boyars (noblemen) and the generals and the merchants - but they all came to nothing. As soon as anyone began to tell him a tale, the King would shout:
”I know it - I know that one already!”
And that was the end of that; the unfortunate man who had hoped to marry the princess was stopped and driven away.
Now there was a poor peasant who lived in that kingdom, and his was a miserable life. He had neither home nor money. He slept where he could find a corner and ate and drank when he found a kind soul to feed him, which was by no means every day.
One day he came to an inn and went to warm himself at the fire and get a drink.
The innkeeper sneered at him:
”Why don't you go and tell fairy tales to the King? The Princess must be pining away waiting for her bridegroom.”
The poor man took this in silence, but the thought flashed through his mind:
”Why shouldn't I try my luck? I may not become the King's son-in-law, but anyway for two or three days I'll have enough to eat and drink from the King's table.”
He went to the Palace. The King asked him:
”Why have you come here, my good man?”
”I want to tell Your Majesty a fairy tale. Only first let me have some food and drink.”
The King looked at him and laughed. “A fine bridegroom this one would make! His shirt all tattered and torn, his shoes tied up with string,” he thought.
But he said nothing.
The peasant was given food and drink. The King gathered his boyars and advisers about him and said to the peasant:
”Well, tell us the story.”
”My late father,” said the peasant, “was the richest man in our kingdom. He built tall, very tall houses. Pigeons walked on the roofs of these hoses and picked stars from heaven, that's how high they were! And the courtyard belonging to our house was so large that in a whole summer's day a pigeon couldn't fly from one end to the other.”
The King kept silent, so did the boyars; no one interrupted and the peasant said:
”I'll go on with the story tomorrow after I've had my dinner.”
And he went to the kitchen have some food.
The next day, towards the evening, he wants on with the tale:
”A bull, seven years old, lived in our yard. A shepherd sat on one of his horns, and another shepherd on the other; they blew bugles and played the flute and sang songs, but they couldn't see each other's faces, not hear each other's voices. That's what a fine bull we had.”
Again the King was silent, and the boyars, too.
The teller of tales got to his feet and said:
”I'll finish the story tomorrow; it's time for bed now.” And he went to the kitchen to get some food.
Then the King said:
”What shall we do, boyars? Indeed, I've never heard this tale before, but I don't want to give my daughter in marriage to a beggar. You must think of a way to get round him.”
The princes and the boyars began to think. They thought for a long time, and at last decided what to do.
”Tell him, Your Majesty,” said one of them, “that you have heard the tale before, and then we will all say, 'Yes we all know it too'. And to make it look more convincing, we'll have a paper prepared saying that this is a story we all know, and we'll have all sign it in front of the peasant.”
And so it was agreed.
The peasant, however, discovered what they were planning (one of the palace servants may have told him), but he gave no sign of it.
The next day, as though nothing had happened, he arrived after dinner and began to tell the last part of his tale.
”My late father,” he said, “had a mare that ran round the world in three days. She gave birth to baby foals three times in every twenty-four hors.”
The princess and the boyars exchanged glances with the King and smiled into their beards, while the peasant went on:
”Our sheds were filled to the brim with gold and silver. And you, Your Majesty, borrowed a trunk of gold from us in those days and you haven't returned it to this day.”
Here the King cried out:
”But I know it, I know the story.”
And the princes and the boyars repeated after him:
”Yes, yes, we know the story already and we all swear to it in writing.”
They jumped from their seats and signed the paper. The peasant took the paper and declared:
”Well, if you know the story and will go so far as to sign a paper saying so, then you must pay your debt, Your Majesty.”
The King realized what he had done. “This poor peasant has got the better of me!” he exclaimed.
But there was nothing he could do but fill a trunk with gold and give it to him. For what is once written with a pen, not even an axe can destroy.
The peasant took the money and lived happily ever after. To the end of his life he laughed at his own cunning.

Copyright © 2006 Russian Fairy Tales