A rich man had many, many beautiful sheep. He and his little servant drove them out to the meadow to graze. But he left the lambs and his head... to take care of them.
As the little lad was playing his flute by the sheep, a boisterous lad came by and teased the little shepherd boy so much that he hit him on the head with his stick, and the teasing lad died a horrible death.
The little tuft got scared, looked around to see if anyone had seen him, then buried the body in a ditch. When he went home with the lambs in the evening, one of them was missing.
The rich man sent his son with the little shepherd boy to look for the lost sheep. But when they could find no trace of it, the farmer's son attacked him, so that he must have eaten it, and struck him with his stick that he could not even utter a yelp, and he died a horrible death. The farmer's son thought, "No one will see me under the sky, I'll bury him in a ditch. So he buried him in the very ditch where the other lad lay.
However, both murders were witnessed by a pilgrim. But because the boy's father was a rich man, he did not dare to go to law. He thought it was all in vain anyway, the rich man would wipe him out of life. So he gave himself up to prayer, and for three whole years he prayed continually that the Lord God would humble the rich man, so that he could then denounce him without fear.
But God did not listen to the pilgrim's prayer; the rich man became even richer in the course of three years. The pilgrim then resolved that he would never again pray a word in vain, but would live a worldly life. Why should he pray more, when God blesses the wicked and forgets the godly man?
He left his little cottage and went out into the world. He had passed through seventeen countries and found a man lying by a great fire. And he sat down by the fire and there he told his story.
Says the other person:
- I have lived a life of piety like you, but seeing the prosperity of the wicked and the misery of the good, I resolved to live no longer a life of piety, but to live as God's other creation.
They made a friendship at once, and at dawn the two set off. In the evening they reached a village and asked for lodging for the night at the first house that looked better. The landlord, who had a beautiful wife and only one son, said, "God has the lodging! - and even invited his guests to dinner. Then they were put to bed and, wishing each other a peaceful good night, they went to bed and fell asleep.
When everyone was in their first sleep, the pilgrim's companion woke up and cut the child's neck with a knife. He woke the pilgrim up and they continued their journey in silence.
The next evening they reached another village, and there they found a kind-hearted owner. He gave them not only lodging, but a good dinner and as much wine as they could drink. The master had a fine silver cup, and all his guests were served from it.
He assured them to drink from that glass, he always drank from it and would not even take another glass to his mouth. They settled down after a good dinner of wine. But the pilgrim's companion waited for the farmer to start snoring. He hung the silver cup from the peg, woke the pilgrim by saying, "On with a house!
They went on, they went on, they wandered for a long time, until one night it fell upon them in a village. Suddenly it was so rainy, so dark, that they could have hung an axe on it. They bleed into a house. But the farmer cried out, "The neighbour is a better man than I am! They went to the neighbour, and he too cried out.
The houses were put in order, but everywhere they paid: the neighbour is a better man than me! In the last house, however, they giggled so much that the landlord, an old man, let him in, but then not in the house, but in the pigsty.
The old farmer thought to himself that those wicked, angry pigs would tear the two men to pieces, and at least the next day they would not have to be given corn. The pigs did not harm the wanderers and they slept quietly until morning. The pilgrim's companion then thanked the old farmer for his lodging and presented him with a silver cup for his kindness.
They went on, and on the way they came to a narrow plank through which only one man could pass at a time. The pilgrim says:
- Let's sit down here, because you see, a man has just stepped on the plank, let's wait for him to come through.
But his partner did not listen. He confronted the man, and when he wished him a happy birthday, he grabbed him and pushed him into the water. The man drowned.
The pilgrim was deeply offended and decided to never again walk on the same road with his companion. They came to a crossroads beyond the plank, and here he said to his companion:
- I will not travel with you any further. If you go east, I go west.
- Why don't you want to come with me? - asked his partner.
- Because I can't watch your evil any longer. Thou hast killed the kind-hearted farmer's son, stolen the other's favourite cup, and given it to the wicked man who gave lodging in the pigsty. And now thou hast cast the honest man into the water, though he wished thee a happy day.
- "Wait just a little," said his companion, "if it's still up to you! What have you done? For a pilgrim, you stood by and watched one man kill another, and said nothing for fear of having your head broken. As a pilgrim, you couldn't wait for the punishment of sin, but gave yourself up to a worldly life. Know that I am an angel of God. I know man's future life and I act accordingly. I killed that kind-hearted farmer's only son because his parents would have spoiled him and made him a villain for the gallows. A thousand times more bitterness would his life have caused than his death. I stole the other's silver cup because he would have been drunk, for he loved to drink from it. But so he resolved to drink no more. And I gave the stolen silver cup to the old man, so that he might drink it and drink it all. For riches are not fit for a man who has no pity on poor passengers. And from the plank I cast this honest man into the water, because he had just then set out on his wicked course. At least I saved this one from damnation. Return thou also to thy little cottage, and haste not the good God, for his holy mercy is never slow in dispensing justice.
Saying this, the angel ascended into heaven on a bright chariot of flame.
(Vilmos Radó: Hungarian Children's and Folk Tales, First Collection - Singer and Wolfner Publishing; Budapest, Andrássy út 10, VI.)
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