Prevod

A farmer once drove his cow to market and sold her for seven thalers. On his way home he had to pass a pond, and from far off he could hear the frogs calling, “Eight, eight, eight, eight.” “Yes,” he said to himself, “they’re shouting it out into the oat field, too. But seven is what I got for her, not eight.” When he reached the water, he called to them, “You stupid creatures! Don’t you know any better? Seven thalers it was, not eight.” But the frogs stuck to their “Eight, eight, eight, eight.” “Well, if you won’t believe me, I can count it out for you.” He took the money from his pocket and counted out the seven thalers, twenty-four groschen to each one. But the frogs paid no attention to his reckoning and called again, “Eight, eight, eight, eight.” “Why,” cried the farmer angrily, “if you think you know better than I do, count it yourselves!” And he threw all the money into the water. He stood there waiting for them to finish and bring back what was his, but the frogs held fast to their opinion, kept crying, “Eight, eight, eight, eight,” and did not throw the money back out either. He waited a good while longer, until evening fell and he had to go home. Then he scolded the frogs and shouted, “You water-splashers, you thickheads, you goggle-eyes! You’ve big mouths and can shout till a man’s ears ache, but you can’t count seven thalers. Do you think I mean to stand here till you’re done?” With that he went away, but the frogs kept calling, “Eight, eight, eight, eight,” after him, so that he reached home in a thoroughly bad temper.

Some time later he bought himself another cow, slaughtered her, and reckoned that if he sold the meat at a good price, he could get as much as both cows had been worth, with the hide to the good besides. Now, when he arrived at the town with the meat, a whole pack of dogs had gathered outside the gate, with a large greyhound at their head. It bounded round the meat, sniffing and barking, “What, what, what, what.” When it would not stop, the farmer said, “Yes, I can tell you’re saying ‘what, what’ because you want something of the meat, but I’d be in a fine fix if I gave it to you.” The dog answered nothing but “What, what.” “And will you promise not to gobble it up, and stand surety for those friends of yours?” “What, what,” said the dog. “Well, if you insist, I’ll leave it with you. I know you well enough, and I know whom you serve. But let me tell you, I must have my money in three days, or things will go badly for you. You can bring it out to me.” Then he unloaded the meat and turned back home. The dogs fell upon it, barking loudly, “What, what.” The farmer, hearing them from a distance, said to himself, “Listen to them! Now they all want something, but the big one will have to answer to me.”

When three days had passed, the farmer thought, “Tonight you’ll have your money in your pocket,” and was quite cheerful. But no one came to pay him. “There’s no relying on anyone these days,” he said, and at last his patience gave out, so he went into town to the butcher and demanded his money. The butcher thought he was joking, but the farmer said, “Joking aside, I want my money. Didn’t the big dog bring you home a whole slaughtered cow three days ago?” At that the butcher grew angry, seized a broomstick, and drove him out. “Just you wait,” said the farmer. “There’s still justice in the world!” And he went to the royal palace and asked to be heard. He was brought before the king, who was sitting with his daughter and asked what wrong had been done him. “Ah,” he said, “the frogs and the dogs have taken what was mine, and the butcher has paid me for it with a stick.” And he told at great length how it had all happened. At this the king’s daughter began to laugh aloud, and the king said to him, “I cannot give judgment in your favour here, but instead you shall have my daughter for your wife. Never in all her life has she laughed until this moment, at you, and I have promised her to whoever could make her laugh. You may thank God for your good fortune.” “Oh,” answered the farmer, “I don’t want her at all. I have only one wife at home, and she’s already one too many. When I get home, it feels as though there were one standing in every corner.” Then the king grew angry and said, “You are a boor.” “Ah, Your Majesty,” answered the farmer, “what else can you expect from an ox but beef?” “Just wait,” replied the king. “You shall have a different reward. Be off with you now, but come back in three days, and you shall have five hundred counted out to you.”

When the farmer came out through the door, the sentry said, “You’ve made the king’s daughter laugh, so you must have been given something handsome.” “Yes, indeed,” answered the farmer. “I’m to be paid five hundred.” “Listen,” said the soldier, “give me some of it. What will you do with all that money?” “Since it’s you,” said the farmer, “you shall have two hundred. Present yourself to the king in three days and have them counted out to you.” A greedy merchant who had been standing nearby and had overheard the conversation ran after the farmer, caught him by the coat, and said, “God’s wonders, what a lucky fellow you are! I’ll change it for you; I’ll turn it into small coin. What do you want with all those hard thalers?” “Mauschel,” said the farmer, “you can have the remaining three hundred. Give me the money in coin now, and three days from today the king will pay you for it.” The merchant was delighted at his little profit and brought the sum in debased groschen, three of which were worth only two good ones. When the three days were over, the farmer appeared before the king as he had been commanded. “Take off his coat,” said the king. “He shall have his five hundred.” “Ah,” said the farmer, “they don’t belong to me any longer. I gave two hundred to the sentry, and the merchant changed the other three hundred for me. By rights, there’s nothing at all due to me.” Just then the soldier and the merchant came in and demanded the shares they had secured from the farmer, and their blows were duly meted out to them. The soldier bore it patiently, for he already knew what such things tasted like. But the merchant made a pitiful outcry. “Oh, mercy! Are these the hard thalers?” The king could not help laughing at the farmer, and as all his anger had vanished, he said, “Since you have lost your reward before you even received it, I will make it up to you. Go into my treasury and take as much money as you like.” The farmer did not need telling twice and crammed as much as he could into his roomy pockets. Afterwards he went to the inn and counted his money. The merchant had crept after him and heard him muttering to himself, “Now that rogue of a king has cheated me after all! Couldn’t he have given me the money himself? Then I’d know what I had. How am I to know whether the amount is right, when I just stuffed it into my pockets at random?” “Heaven preserve us,” the merchant said to himself. “He’s speaking disrespectfully of our sovereign! I’ll run and report him. Then I’ll get a reward, and he’ll be punished into the bargain.” When the king heard what the farmer had said, he flew into a rage and ordered the merchant to go and bring the offender before him. The merchant ran to the farmer. “You are to come to His Majesty at once, just as you are.” “I know better than that what’s proper,” answered the farmer. “First I’ll have a new coat made. Do you think a man with so much money in his pocket ought to go there in this old ragged coat?” When the merchant saw that there was no getting the farmer to leave without another coat, he feared that if the king’s anger cooled, he would lose his reward and the farmer would escape his punishment. So he said, “I’ll lend you a fine coat for the little while you need it, out of pure friendship. What won’t a man do for love!” The farmer was quite content with this, put on the merchant’s coat, and went away with him. The king confronted the farmer with the wicked remarks the merchant had reported. “Ah,” said the farmer, “whatever a merchant says is always a lie. Not a true word ever comes out of his mouth. That fellow there is quite capable of claiming that I’m wearing his coat.” “What’s this?” cried the merchant. “Isn’t the coat mine? Didn’t I lend it to you out of pure friendship, so that you could appear before His Majesty?” When the king heard this, he said, “The merchant has certainly cheated one of us, either me or the farmer,” and had him paid a little more in hard thalers. But the farmer went home in the fine coat, with the good money in his pocket, saying, “This time I’ve got it right.”