The Tale of the Snake
Once upon a time, in days long past, there lived a peasant with a large family—a whole bunch of children, big and small. He was so poor that he might as well have gone begging. He worked from dawn till dusk, but his earnings were never enough to feed his family. One evening, the peasant said to his wife:"Listen, wife, tomorrow morning I will set out to wander the world. I'll look for work, maybe I can earn enough to provide for you and the children."
He walked for five days and five nights until he reached a wealthy city. He didn’t know a single soul in this city. The peasant wandered the streets for a long time when suddenly he saw a richly dressed woman standing on one of the balconies.
"Hey, lad," she called to him, "come up here, let's talk."
The peasant was delighted and thought, "Surely there’s work in this house!"
He climbed up and stopped on the last step.
"Why are you standing there?" the woman invited him. "Don’t just stand there, come inside."
The peasant hesitated.
"Madam, why should I come inside? If you have work for me, let’s agree on it here."
"Come in, don’t be shy, you’re my guest."
The peasant entered, and the woman seated him on cushions, serving him wine and various delicacies. But she had added a powder to the wine that made him forget everything: his poverty, his many children—big and small. They ate and drank, and when they were full, the woman said:
"Marry me, and we’ll live happily. I have plenty of wealth—ten shops in the market, ten houses in the city, and ten chests full of treasures."
"Well," said the peasant, who had forgotten everything, "let’s get married."
"Go fetch the priest," the woman instructed. "But before we are wed, remember this: I do not eat meat. So never bring meat into this house. If you crave it, eat shashlik or kebab at the market."
"Let it be as you say," replied the peasant. They married and lived together for three years.
One day, a wealthy merchant from Istanbul arrived in their city, bringing with him all sorts of goods. The peasant entered the merchant’s shop and said:
"Give me something nice from what you have. I want to give my wife a gift."
"Here," said the merchant, "you can’t do better than this: a silk shirt embroidered with pearls."
The peasant brought the shirt home.
"Look," he said, "wife, what a marvelous gift I’ve brought you. Try on this pearl-embroidered shirt."
"Never," said his wife.
"Why not?" the husband asked, surprised. "Do you think it’s too expensive? Don’t worry, I don’t mind the cost. Please, put it on."
His wife frowned.
"Do you want me to die?" she said. "Fine, I’ll put it on."
"No, no!" the peasant waved his hands. "If that’s the case, don’t."
And he took the pearl-embroidered shirt back to the merchant.
"What’s wrong?" asked the merchant. "Is it too small for your wife?"
"No," said the peasant. "She’s afraid of this shirt for some reason."
"Ah, I see!" said the merchant. "That means your wife is a snake!"
"What are you saying? How can a woman be a snake?"
"You’re naive," said the merchant. "I’ve traveled the world, I know these things. Tell me, does your wife eat meat?"
"No," said the peasant, "she can’t even stand the smell of it."
The merchant shook his head, sighed, and then said:
"There’s no doubt she’s a snake. I’ve heard about this woman from a traveler. You’ve lived with her for three years, and she’s given you three more years. She’s destroyed many men this way. After six years, she kills them. That’s how she’s amassed her wealth—by taking the belongings of her victims."
"Save me, good man," pleaded the peasant. "Tell me what to do."
"Alright," said the merchant, "I’ll teach you. Go to the market, buy a good piece of fatty lamb, and bring it home. Tell your wife to make shashlik. When you eat, persuade her to have just a bite with you. As soon as she steps out of the house for something, drink all the water in the house, leaving only a little in a small jug. Hang it near the ceiling. Then see what happens. Come back to me in the morning."
The peasant did everything as instructed. That night, he woke up and saw his wife fumbling in the dark, searching for water, tormented by thirst. Suddenly, she spotted the jug near the ceiling. She stretched out like a snake, her head turning snake-like, reached the jug, drank, and then retracted. The peasant was convinced the merchant had spoken the truth.
In the morning, he went to the merchant and told him everything.
"Didn’t I tell you she was a snake?" replied the merchant. "Now listen. Go home and tell your wife, 'Bake me some gata, dear wife. It’s been three years since we married, and you’ve never baked gata. Treat your husband just this once.' As soon as she heats the tonir and starts placing the dough on its walls, grab her by the legs, throw her into the tonir, and close the lid. After an hour, open it—you’ll find two charred pieces of dough. Take one for yourself and bring the other to me."
The peasant went home and said:
"Wife, my soul craves some sweet gata. Bake me a couple."
"Alright," replied his wife.
She prepared everything as needed. As soon as she started placing the dough on the hot walls of the tonir, her husband grabbed her by the legs, threw her onto the hot coals, and closed the lid. An hour later, he took out the charred pieces of dough, covered in ash. He washed his hands and saw that the water in the basin had turned to gold, and the basin itself had become golden.
The peasant realized what fortune had come into his hands. Then, in a golden vase, he saw his home, his wife, and his children. He clutched his head and remembered everything. He gave the merchant a large piece of gold, kept another for himself, and set off for his homeland.
He arrived home at dusk. His wife opened the door and asked:
"What do you want, traveler, from a poor widow?"
"What widow?" exclaimed the peasant. "Don’t you recognize me?"
His wife looked, and it was her husband.
"Welcome," she said. "Where have you been for so long?"
The peasant replied:
"I’ve been gone long but have gained much. Gather the children. We’ve suffered enough in the village, breaking our backs. Let’s move to the city."
"But how," said his wife, "can we live in the city with our poverty?"
"Don’t worry, wife," said the peasant. "I now have so much gold that it will last for us, our children, and even our grandchildren."
They packed up and moved to the city, bought a new, wealthy home, and lived happily ever after.
Three apples fell from the sky: one for the one who told the tale, one for the one who listened, and one for the one who took it to heart.
1 Gata - a sweet, rich pastry with filling.
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