Prevod

Once upon a time, as never before, there lived a husband and wife, hardworking folk such as God sends into the world. Their whole livelihood depended on a mare that helped them earn their bread. They longed for a little child, too, but none was granted them. They inquired far and wide for some remedy that might lift the curse of their barrenness, but to no avail: it was as though everyone they met were deaf and dumb. No one could tell them what to do. They went on searching until at last they heard of a wizard so skilled that he could make running water stand still. The good man went to him, told him his trouble, and asked for a remedy. The wizard did not need much persuading, and once they had come to terms, he gave him an apple. “Your wife alone must eat this apple,” he said. “But take care that no other living creature in this world gets so much as a bite of it.” “You needn’t worry about that,” the man replied. “Leave it to me. Haven’t you put the apple into my own hands? You may rest easy now.” Taking the apple, the man could think of nothing but the joy he and his wife would feel when they found themselves surrounded by children. With these thoughts in his head he reached home and gave the apple to his wife to eat, without telling her anything more. She took it gladly. After her husband had gone about his business, she sat on the doorstep, peeled the apple, and ate it. The mare had come out of the stable and went over to her mistress, for she was accustomed to getting grain from a feedbag. Finding nothing to nibble, she picked up the apple peelings her mistress had thrown away and ate them with great relish, as though they were the first delicacies of spring. Before long both mistress and mare found themselves with young. Nine months later the woman gave birth to a lovely little boy, and the mare to a delicate little foal. The man’s joy was doubled when he found himself with both a son and a foal. Since the foal had been born at the same time as his son, he decided that no one should ride it but the boy, when he was old enough. They christened the child and cared for him, you may be sure, as parents care for an only son. The boy grew and grew. At a year old he looked five, and at five he looked fifteen; the more he grew, the handsomer and sweeter he became. And as for learning! He learned as no one else in this wide world ever had. No sooner had his teacher mentioned a thing than the boy understood it more deeply than the teacher himself. He became the talk of the country. Some said his learning reached up to his ankles; others, up to his knees; others still, up to his waist. Had anyone asked me, I should have said it reached to the crown of his head. But since no one did ask me, I held my tongue like a fish and never uttered so much as a peep. One day, what should enter the little scamp’s head but to jump on his foal and give it its head! The foal, which had meanwhile grown into a spirited young horse that could never keep still, bolted with the boy on its back, and away they went. When his parents realized he was missing, they searched high and low, to the right and to the left, but nowhere could he be found. They inquired here, they inquired there, but as for the boy—not a trace of him! Only much later did they hear from some travelers who had seen a young lad riding bareback on a little horse that sped like the wind. They said they had scarcely had time to turn and look after him before he vanished from their sight like a phantom, as though he had never been. There was nothing to be done. His parents wept until they were worn out, and their eyes never dried of tears, but all in vain, for their son did not return. As for the two runaways, once they had given themselves over to their wild spirits and found themselves out in the open country, they never thought of looking back. They galloped on, frolicking and enjoying themselves, until, when at last they took notice of their surroundings, they had reached an unknown land. Here they stopped to rest a little. When they wanted to turn homeward, they found they were lost. They no longer knew which way they had come or which way to return. Then the boy began to cry and yearn for his parents. Above all, when he realized how utterly alone he was—he who had never before left his parents’ house—a strange dread came over him, and he did not know what to make of it. Seeing him so distressed, the horse began to comfort him, promising to do this and that for him. In the meantime they found a place to spend the night. They rested and slept beneath the open sky. The next day, with neither a roof over his head nor a meal before him, the boy began to cry again and long to return to his parents. They tried to find the tracks they had left on their way there, but could not discover the slightest trace. At last the horse said, “Master, we have made a mistake that cannot be undone. Give me leave to go and find some means of making our way in the world.” “That is quite out of the question,” the boy replied. “Now that we have reached these untrodden lands, these uninhabited wastes, are you going to leave me too? I cannot stay here alone, not even for a moment.” “Fasten my bridle around your waist, and whenever you find yourself in trouble, shake it, and I shall be with you in an instant. I am going to find a way back among people, and some means of providing for us.” For you must know that the horse was no ordinary creature, but a magic one. With great difficulty he tore himself away from his master. He went on his way and was back in no time. He had swept through the air and searched the earth before the boy had even had time to grow lonely. On his return he told the lad that he had found a place where he could enter service. He also taught him what to do and how to conduct himself so that his service would prosper. When the boy heard that he would find a livelihood, he mounted, and they set off like the wind, just as the horse had come. They arrived at the dwelling of some fairies, and the boy did as the horse had instructed him. The three fairies—for there were three of them—were somewhat reluctant to take him in; but he persisted, begged them, and promised to be hardworking and faithful, until they accepted him. Once settled there, the boy put his whole heart into his work, and whenever there was anything particularly heavy or difficult to do, he called his horse to help him. The horse, who had somehow learned the fairies’ secrets—for his magical powers were not merely for show—told the boy to keep a sharp lookout: at a certain appointed time, gold would flow in their bath, and he must slip in before the fairies and bathe in it. He also told him, when they set him to tidying their clothes shelves, to look out for some walnuts that the fairies kept there and treasured like the very eyes in their heads. The boy did exactly as the horse had taught him. One day, when the fairies had gone hunting without a care in the world, the boy heard a louder rush of water than usual in their bath. Frightened, he called the horse, who came in the twinkling of an eye. As soon as he saw what was happening in the bath, he made the boy strip at once and pushed him in to bathe. When he came out, what should you have seen, my worthy lords? His hair had turned to pure gold and grown so long that it reached his calves; you could hardly bear to take your eyes off it. He took the walnuts he had marked out, mounted his horse, and away they went! The instant he crossed the gateway, the house began to scream so loudly it might have woken the dead in their graves. Hearing the shrieks, the fairies returned home before you could say a word. They saw that their servant was missing, saw the water left in the bath where he had washed, and saw that the walnuts were gone. Without a moment’s delay they set off after him. They very nearly caught the fugitives. The boy fled, and the fairies pursued; he fled on, and still they followed. When the horse saw the danger, he lengthened his stride and began to fly as swiftly as thought. At the very moment when the fairies were about to seize them, they passed beyond the boundaries of the fairies’ land, and there they stopped. The fairies’ power reached no farther. When they saw that he had crossed their boundary, they began to plead sweetly with him to cut off his hair and give it to them; but the boy only mocked them. Then they begged him at least to return the walnuts containing the clothes. The boy showed them the crust of his bread instead. At last the fairies begged him merely to let down his hair, so that they might delight in the sight of it. Then he spread his hair loose, mounted, and flew away on his splendid horse. The fairies watched him with longing, and, having nothing more they could do, went home and agreed among themselves that never again, as long as they lived, would they take a stranger into service in their household. When the boy reached the lands of a mighty emperor, the horse instructed him what to do. He obeyed and went to hire himself out to the emperor’s gardener. Before coming to terms with the gardener, he put an ox bladder over his head and hid his golden hair beneath it. The gardener taught him how to make beds, sow flowers, transplant them, and tend them. He took a great liking to the boy, for he was just what a man needed: a true right hand, nothing less. The servants at the imperial court, however, called him Baldy this and Baldy that, until the name stuck. The imperial gardener had grown old in the emperor’s service. He was a capable, God-fearing, honest man. His chief duty was to take a bunch of flowers every morning to each of the emperor’s three daughters. One day he fell ill, and he called his helper and told him to choose enough of the finest flowers to make three bouquets and carry them to the princesses. Baldy went and picked the flowers, making three bouquets: one large, one middling, and one small. The largest, made up of flowers that were beginning to fade and had scarcely any scent left, he gave to the emperor’s eldest daughter. The middling bouquet, of flowers in full bloom, he gave to the middle daughter; and the smallest, consisting only of buds just beginning to open, he gave to the youngest. As soon as he had handed over the flowers, he hurried away and set to work in the garden. The princesses were puzzled by this, and all three went to the emperor and showed him the flowers. The emperor summoned the gardener to explain the meaning of the bouquets he had sent his daughters. The gardener was frightened to hear that he was wanted by the emperor while he was so ill. He went with a trembling heart, but when he heard the matter of the flowers, he explained that he was not to blame: being unwell that day, he had sent his helper to deliver them. Baldy was summoned too. He approached timidly and answered, “May you live for many years, most illustrious emperor! When I picked those flowers and made those bouquets, I had no evil intention, as God is my witness. I merely gave each princess flowers that showed her as she is.” “And how did you dare, a bald wretch like you, to do such a thing?” “That was as far as my wits and understanding took me, most illustrious emperor, and so that was what I did. Your Majesty must judge according to what is right.” The emperor fell into thought. Though he was saddened, he was still more pleased, for the boy had reminded him of what he ought to do as a father. Afterwards he sent the servant a purse of money. The boy took it to the gardener and gave it to him, saying that he did not know what to do with it, since his master provided him with everything he needed. Not long afterwards a holy day came round, and the emperor went to church with all his courtiers and the elders of the empire. Among the old and trusted servants who accompanied him was the gardener. Only the youngest princess remained at home. Finding himself alone, the gardener’s helper unwound the bridle from his waist, took a suit of copper clothes from one of the walnuts he had carried off from the fairies, and dressed himself splendidly. He went into the garden and rattled the bridle, and his horse appeared, saddled but unbridled. He put the bridle on him, mounted, and began to gallop through the garden. The youngest princess’s window overlooked the garden, and she saw everything that happened. After trampling the garden, the servant rode like lightning to the church, gave his horse to a man standing outside to hold, and went in. He strode straight up to receive the anointing, bowed to the right, bowed to the left, and went out again. Everyone in the church marveled at him. Even the emperor said that he had never seen so handsome a young man. As soon as the gardener’s helper came out of the church, he mounted and flew home to the imperial garden. There he dismounted and ordered the horse to restore everything he had damaged. The horse set to work and put the garden right at once, making it even more beautiful than it had been before. The youngest princess watched from her window and said nothing. When her elder sisters returned from church, they said to her, “What a pity you did not come to church too! A young man appeared, dressed in such and such a way; he did this and that, and then left at once, with everyone staring after him.” The youngest princess listened and said nothing. As for the gardener, when he entered the garden he stood stock-still in amazement. Then he decided that perhaps it only seemed more beautiful because he had not been there for some time. Before long another holy day came round, and the emperor again went to church with his whole court. This time the youngest princess pretended to be ill, stayed at home, and took her place by the window. The gardener’s helper now took out a suit of silver clothes, shook the bridle, and mounted the horse, who had come in the blink of an eye. Again he galloped through the garden, trampling it even worse than the first time, and again he went to church, just as before. When he returned home, he ordered the horse to repair the garden, and the horse made it lovelier still. The youngest princess watched from her window and said nothing. Her sisters told her, her mother told her, her father told her about the splendid young man who had appeared at church, though no one knew where he came from. She listened and said nothing. More time passed, and on another great holy day the emperor went to church with all his counselors and all his courtiers, young and old. Once again his youngest daughter pretended to be ill and stayed at home. Among the courtiers who went to church was the gardener, an old, faithful servant who had been with the emperor for many years. As soon as the bald-headed helper found himself alone, he shook the bridle and called his horse. This time he took the golden suit from its walnut shell, dressed himself splendidly, bridled the horse, who had come already saddled, and let his golden hair fall down his back. He mounted and galloped through the garden, ruining it altogether, then rode to church as he had done before. He went up for the anointing, bowed to the right and to the left, and went out. On returning home he ordered the horse to make the garden three times more beautiful than it had been. The youngest princess saw him go and return, and saw what he did, but she said nothing. When they came back from church, the emperor and everyone else told her of the marvel they had seen. “Since you did not come to church,” they said, “you missed seeing that handsome stranger with the golden hair! How magnificent he looked when he bowed to the right and to the left to everyone in the church, and how he went out afterwards without taking any further notice of anyone!” The youngest princess made a show of listening, but kept her thoughts to herself and laughed secretly. You see, she knew what she knew. When the gardener returned from church and saw the glorious garden his helper’s horse had made, he kept rubbing his eyes and could scarcely believe them. Was this the garden he had tended since his youth, or was it not? He thought he must have wandered into another garden. He no longer recognized it. Seeing his helper, he asked him about the change; the boy begged his pardon and said that he had only done what his master had taught him. And when the emperor saw it! He took out a purse of money and gave it to the gardener for making him a garden such as no other emperor possessed. A little more time passed, and the emperor remembered the three bouquets of flowers. He spoke with the empress about settling their daughters in homes of their own. As soon as this imperial decision became known, suitors began to arrive from all manner of emperors’ courts. The eldest and the middle daughters each chose an emperor’s son and married him. The youngest, however, would not marry any of them. They proposed the son of this emperor and the son of that one, but no! She said none of them pleased her. What was the poor emperor to do? He took counsel with his nobles, and they decided that the princess should stand on a balcony with a golden apple in her hand, while all the sons of emperors and noblemen passed before her; whichever she liked, she was to strike with the apple. So it was done. The emperors’ sons who had come to seek her hand passed by, but she struck none of them. The sons of the empire’s great nobles passed by too, but she did not so much as think of striking any of them. At last all the young men of the empire passed before her, good and bad alike, from the lesser gentry and from the common people; but the princess stood with the apple in her hand and would not even look at them. When the gardener’s helper happened to pass that way, however, she struck him squarely on the head with the apple. The sons of emperors and noblemen were thunderstruck at the sight. The emperor said there must have been a mistake and invited the emperors’ and noblemen’s sons to pass before her once more.

They all passed by, and she struck no one. Baldy was told to pass too, and once again she struck him. The emperor could not consent to his daughter taking so lowly a fellow for a husband, and he asked the whole assembly to pass before her yet again, for surely the girl must have made some mistake. For the third time the emperor’s daughter struck the bald-headed servant with the apple. Then the emperor, having no choice, gave his daughter to the servant in marriage; but he also cast them off and drove them from his house. They left the presence of the emperor who had rejected them with tears in their eyes and sorrowful hearts, and chose for their home an earthen hut in which he had kept some buffaloes. Then the princess, remembering what she had seen in the garden, urged her husband to call his horse. The servant, now the emperor’s son-in-law, did as his wife suggested: he summoned the horse and ordered him to build them underground palaces without equal in the world. The horse lost no time in making them palaces of wondrous splendor. There were things in their palaces that could not be found even in the emperor’s own house. Riches, precious treasures, anything the heart could wish for—they had it all. A little while later the emperor received a message from another emperor challenging him to war. He called upon his sons-in-law, the emperors’ sons, to help him, and they came, boasting of the feats they would perform. When the time came to set out, the servant, his other son-in-law, appeared before the emperor too and asked to be taken along, saying that perhaps he might cut down an enemy or two himself. The emperor and his elder sons-in-law rebuked him, telling him to leave them in peace and not make them responsible for looking after him there as well. But he persisted, and the emperor relented and ordered that he be given a worn-out nag and a rusty sword. The servant thanked him and rode ahead of the army. On reaching a marshy place they would have to cross, he let his horse sink into the mud and began beating it to make it get out, but in vain. The emperor came up with his elder sons-in-law and the whole army, and they passed him, shaking their heads, while the soldiers nudged one another and laughed. Once they had gone by and were out of sight, the servant shook the bridle, and his horse appeared at once. He told him what he meant to do and asked his advice. The horse instructed him how to act when he faced the enemy. After taking all this counsel to heart, he mounted and rode away. He reached the battlefield and saw his own side locked in combat with the enemy, who were just about to overcome his father-in-law and his brothers-in-law. Then up he rose, three fathoms above the armies, and flew straight to the emperor, his father-in-law, cut off the finger bearing his ring, and took it with him. After that he swooped down upon the enemy and hewed mercilessly through living flesh, like a sturdy laborer swinging his scythe without pause. Whenever the enemy pressed him hard, the horse shot upwards like lightning, while he clung firmly to its mane. Then, as they descended, he struck as only he knew how to strike. That was what the horse had taught him. Three times he rose into the air when the enemy surged against him, and three times he swooped like a whirlwind upon their army. Each time they fell in heaps to his right and left, and wherever he rode he cut broad lanes through their ranks. In less time than it has taken me to tell you, piles of dead lay along his path. Such dreadful fear did he strike into the enemy’s hearts that they began to flee, while he chased them and slaughtered them like cattle. The emperor, his father-in-law, stood astonished at such prowess. When the enemy had fled, he remained where he was and thanked God for sending His angel to save them from the foe who had been determined to destroy them utterly. Having rescued him, the servant, the emperor’s son-in-law, returned ahead of him, dismissed his horse, and climbed back onto the nag the emperor had given him, struggling to get it out of the mud. The emperor was returning from the battle in high spirits when he came upon him, still mired in the marsh, and ordered a couple of soldiers to pull him out. When they reached home, the emperor’s bald-headed son-in-law told his wife what he had done. She rejoiced with all her heart. The whole army talked of the angel of the Lord who had brought them such help and who so resembled the stranger who had appeared at church. The emperor himself suspected it was the same man and wished he might meet him once more to thank him. But where was he to find him? More time passed, and the emperor went blind. All the healers gathered and gave him remedies, but none of their herbs did him any good. The wise women set water beneath the stars, brought it to him, and recited their charms, but whatever they put on his eyes only made them worse, never better. At last a great astrologer and healer was brought at great expense from foreign lands. He declared that the emperor would never recover his sight until he had birds’ milk from beyond the River Jordan with which to anoint his eyes. Then the emperor sent men throughout the empire to proclaim that whoever could bring birds’ milk from beyond the River Jordan might be assured of receiving the imperial crown and half the empire. But their proclamations fell on deaf ears, for no one could be found to undertake the task. Seeing this, the emperor’s elder sons-in-law pledged to bring the milk he needed. They mounted fine horses from the imperial stables and took servants and money with them. They traveled far and wide, but could not find what they sought. At last they came upon a swindler who gave them milk, ordinary milk like any other, and took a great deal of money from them for it. They returned joyfully to their father-in-law’s house. Meanwhile the emperor’s other son-in-law, the servant, had also set out in search of birds’ milk. He shook the bridle, and his splendid horse appeared at once. He told him what he wanted, and the horse replied, “Nothing could be easier, master, for that is where I live myself.” He mounted, and they set off. When he reached the place, he obtained birds’ milk from beyond the River Jordan, and in a few days he returned home, at much the same time as his brothers-in-law. They went to the emperor and brought him the milk they had obtained.

He rubbed it on the emperor’s eyes, but the emperor remained as before, as blind as ever. It did him no good. Then the servant went and brought milk too, but his was true bird’s milk from beyond the River Jordan. The emperor was reluctant to put it on his eyes. At the urging of the empress and his councillors, however, he yielded and anointed them. As soon as he touched his eyes with this milk, he found that he could see as though through a fine sieve. He applied it again and could see as though through a coarse sieve; when he anointed his eyes a third time, he could see as clearly as anyone. The emperor forgave the servant for what he had done before. Seeing this, his youngest son-in-law asked the emperor to come and see their home. The emperor agreed and went. When he arrived, what should meet his eyes? His youngest son-in-law’s home held wonders that were nowhere to be found in his own palaces. Seeing how astonished the emperor was, the young man ventured to say, “Your Majesty, I am the one who came to church three times.” The emperor fixed his eyes upon him. “I am the one who made the beautiful garden.” The emperor could scarcely believe what he was hearing. “And I,” he went on, “am the one who saved you in battle from the hands of the villains who had risen against you to destroy you.” The emperor stood rooted to the spot in amazement. Then, recovering himself a little, he said, “How can you prove what you say?” His youngest son-in-law went outside, shook out the golden clothes from the nutshell where he kept them, and dressed himself in all his finery. He let his hair fall down his back, mounted his horse, and, showing the emperor the finger with the ring upon it, said, “Here, Your Majesty, is proof of my words.” And he began to gallop about the emperor’s courtyard. His golden hair and the clothes he wore shone like the sun. As the emperor watched him, he kept raising a hand to shade his eyes, for he was afraid he might go blind again. He praised his daughter for choosing such a man and said to her, “A fine husband you have chosen!”

“Could you ever have believed, Father,” replied his youngest daughter, “that I would choose a husband who would bring shame upon my father, the emperor, before the world?” Then the emperor, who was now an old man, stepped down from the throne, and his youngest son-in-law took his place. And they ruled in peace and tranquillity for the rest of their days. And I mounted a saddle, and so on.