About the Greedy Priest and the Clever Old Man
A poor old man and his wife had a pair of oxen. Truth be told, they were good oxen, but times had become very tough for the old couple. They didn’t even have enough food to feed their children. After talking it over, they decided:— Let’s take these oxen to the fair, sell them, and at least we’ll have something to eat for a while. Maybe by then the children will have grown a bit and will be able to work to feed themselves.
So the old man took the oxen to the fair. But he didn’t know how much to sell them for—he had never traded oxen before.
Everyone liked his oxen very much and gathered around him, asking:
— How much are you selling them for?
But the old man didn’t know what to say.
Then a priest came by:
— Are you selling your oxen, servant of God?
— Yes, I’m selling them, Your Reverence. I’m in great need; my family has nothing to eat, so I’m selling them.
— Sell them to me.
— Of course.
— How much do you value them? What should I give you?
— I’m a poor old man, surely you, a priest, a man of God, wouldn’t cheat me? Give me whatever you think they’re worth. I won’t ask for more...
It’s well known that there are no greater swindlers and deceivers than priests. And so this priest began to swear and make oaths:
— My son, how could I cheat you? May Christ the Savior bless you, His cross be upon you. I’ll give you a great price—thirty rubles for your pair of oxen.
The trusting old man agreed:
— Take them, holy father. May Christ grant you joy and benefit from them.
The priest was delighted to have bought them so cheaply, having fooled the old man. He quickly counted out the money and drove the oxen away.
The old man turned back home.
“I got a bit too little money, how will I feed my family now?” he thought. “But what can I do? I sold them for a godly price, and that’s that.”
When he got home, his wife asked:
— How much did you sell them for?
— For thirty rubles. A priest bought them; he set the price himself, a godly one, the husband said.
His wife screamed:
— Have you lost your mind? Gone mad? What have you done? The priest cheated you, cheated you, ruined you—curse him!
The old man tried to justify himself:
— The priest is a man of God, God’s representative on earth. He wouldn’t cheat me. He said he gave more than the oxen were worth.
The wife grieved, but what could she do? She couldn’t beat her old, foolish husband, with whom she had lived her whole life. She just sulked at him and refused to take the money.
And so they lived in discord. The wife would prepare dinner, set it on the table, feed the children, and then go off to the neighbors, not speaking to the old man. He would come home, eat, take his hoe, and drag himself back to work.
They lived like this, quarreling, for a whole week. And the old man kept thinking, racking his brains, trying to figure out how to fix his mistake and make it up to his wife and children.
He thought and thought, and finally came up with an idea. He decided: since the swindler priest cheated me, I won’t be a simpleton anymore—now I’ll cheat the greedy priest! When you live with wolves, you howl like a wolf—I’ll never let these crooked priests cheat me again. Now I’ll be cunning too!
One day, the old man got up, took the priest’s money, and went back to the fair. There, he bought himself a hat for six kopecks, put it on, and walked around, keeping the rest of the money in his pocket.
He walked around the fair once or twice and saw the priest who had bought his oxen. The old man rushed over, greeted him, and asked:
— So, how are my oxen?
— May God grant you good, they’re good, very good, the priest said.
— I told you they were good.
They talked for a while, and then the old man said to the priest:
— If you’re pleased with my oxen, I’d like to ask you for something. Don’t refuse me.
— What is it?
— I’m very grateful to you for giving me a good price, and I’d like to treat you to lunch. But I ask you to bring along your friends—anyone in town who’s your friend, be it the dean or the bishop—and come all together to such-and-such tavern. I’ll treat you all at my expense.
The priest was greedy for food and loved to eat at someone else’s expense. Here was a chance to treat himself and all his priest friends at the expense of a foolish peasant. The priest was delighted, his eyes gleaming.
— Of course, we’ll all come. Why even ask?
The old man ran to the tavern and said to the tavern keeper:
— I’ll have guests today. Prepare the best food.
Then he gave him twenty-five rubles in advance and said:
— When it’s time to pay, I’ll take off my hat and shout, ‘Are we settled, landlord?’ and you answer, ‘We’re settled.’
— Alright, the tavern keeper agreed happily. But know this: twenty-five rubles won’t feed a hundred people, and my tavern can’t hold that many. I don’t want to cheat you, good man.
“As much as I gave, that’s how much I gave,” the old man replied. “Just fulfill our agreement. And serve the very best.”
The priest invited everyone to a free meal—the dean, the bishop, the deacon, and fifteen other priests—all the local clergy gathered to drink and feast at someone else’s expense.
They arrived at the tavern, where the hospitable owner greeted them all.
They sat down. Toasts began. They drank, ate, feasted, and drank some more—there was plenty of everything. They had a good time and then got up.
When it was time to pay for the meal, the old man tore off his hat and shouted:
“Are we settled, owner?”
“We’re settled,” the tavern keeper immediately replied.
Everyone was surprised by this settlement, and the priest turned to the old man and said:
“I’m very grateful to you for the treat, but tell me, how did you manage not to pay anything for such a feast?”
“Ah, ah! It’s a pity you and all the holy fathers couldn’t feast to your heart’s content, you ate so little. But I have this hat—you could stuff it with fifty rubles, and as soon as you take it off in front of the tavern keeper, everything is paid for.”
The priest became insistent: “Sell me that hat, sell it to me!”
“No,” said the old man, “don’t ask. What good are oxen to me if a wolf eats them? But this hat—it was sent to me by God from my ancestors, it feeds my whole family. How can I part with it? How can I anger God?”
The priest thought to himself: “I really tricked him with the oxen. If only I could get this hat too—then I’d be rich.”
The priest wouldn’t let up:
“No, respect a servant of God, sell me the hat.”
He begged and begged, invoking the Holy Virgin Mary and all the saints, and finally wore the old man down.
“Alright, fine. Give me two hundred rubles, and take the hat,” said the old man.
The priest counted out the money, took the hat, and ran off before the old man could change his mind. He ran home, already imagining how much money he’d save with such a hat and how much profit he’d make.
A week passed.
The priest went to the fair with the hat. He approached the dean, who was also looking for good deals, and invited him to dinner. He invited all the local priests, and they all went together to the same tavern to feast.
They arrived and sat down.
“Now, bring us whatever food each of us asks for!” the priest ordered the tavern keeper.
They brought all sorts of food and drink, whatever anyone ordered. The tavern keeper knew priests always had plenty of money, so he did his best to please them.
The invited priests ate heartily, drank wine to their hearts’ content, and, once satisfied, got up to leave.
The priest tore off the miraculous hat from his head and shouted:
“Are we settled, owner?”
But for some reason, no one replied, “Yes, we’re settled!”
The tipsy priest shouted again and again:
“Are we settled, owner?”
And he waved the hat around.
Finally, the tavern keeper got angry:
“What’s wrong with you, priest? Have you lost your mind? What settlement? Where’s the money? Looks like you’ve had too much to drink in my tavern.”
He rushed at the priest to keep him from running away:
“Pay up right now, or I’ll tear your head off and call the police. Everyone in the tavern saw you and your friends feasting, and now you don’t want to pay!”
Everyone in the tavern started disapprovingly commenting on the priest’s greed. But the priest didn’t have enough money with him.
There was nothing to be done. The dean and the bishop stepped forward:
“Looks like the priest invited us without money. Fine, we’ll pay!” And they paid the tavern keeper together.
The priest was utterly humiliated. He went home barely alive—may your enemy come home like that. He realized the old man had tricked him this time, and he ran to confront him.
The angry priest ran like a madman, thinking to himself:
“He won’t get away with this alive.”
But the old man understood what had happened with the priest and what the priest was thinking now.
“I’ll have to expect the priest’s visit soon,” thought the old man.
The old man slaughtered a chicken, collected its blood in bladders, and hung the bladders around the necks of his wife and children under their collars. He agreed with his family on what to do, prepared a knife, and waited for the priest.
The greedy priest arrived. He shouted and cursed, ready to pounce on the old man and tear his head off.
But the old man greeted him respectfully and kindly, as if nothing had happened:
“Welcome, our good holy father. What can I do for you?”
As the priest began to shout:
“You deceived me, you cursed old man! What did you sell me for two hundred rubles?”
The old man grimaced, cowered, and clenched his entire face into a fist:
“No, kind man, how could I deceive you? It’s all my wife’s fault. It must be because of her sins that God stripped the hat of its magical power. As for me, would I ever wrong such a good, God-fearing man?”
Then the old man pulled a knife from his pocket, lunged at his wife, and stabbed her to death. She fell, stretching out her legs. He then grabbed his children, slit their throats, threw them on the floor, and kept shouting, cursing them.
Neighbors came running at the noise, grabbed the old man, and shouted at the priest:
“What were you doing here? How did you drive the old man to such a state? Don’t you see, the man has gone mad, killing his wife and children, and you, such a big strong man, couldn’t stop him? We’ll deal with both the mad old man and you now!”
The frightened priest tried to justify himself:
“He deceived me too, and then he killed his own wife and children. He must be some kind of lunatic... What on earth brought me here?”
Everyone was terrified, seeing the blood flowing and pooling on the ground.
Finally, the old man stood up and said:
“What are you all worried about? I killed my own wife and children, and I’ll bring them back to life, but only if this priest promises in front of everyone to leave me alone.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” the terrified priest shouted, “just bring them back to life quickly so they’ll let me go.”
The old man approached his wife, muttered something as if casting a spell, then pressed the blunt end of his knife to her throat. She jumped up.
“Oh, what’s this? So many guests, and I must have fallen asleep!” she said.
The old man revived the children in the same way. They jumped up, happily hopping around, and ran off to play.
Everyone was amazed, unable to believe their eyes—what kind of miracle had the old man performed?
And so, the priest walked away with nothing; in fact, he was glad to have escaped the chaos so easily, and he forgot all about the hat.
As he walked, he thought: “It would be great to have a knife like that. I could keep all the peasants in my parish in fear, those who never give me peace, always complaining about my greed.”
Time passed. The priest went to the fair again. Once more, he met the old man. The old man, as usual, asked about his bulls—how were they?
“The bulls are fine, thank you,” said the priest.
They reminisced about what had happened that memorable day.
“You deceived me in everything, tricked me at every turn, but that knife drove me completely mad,” said the priest. “I saw with my own eyes how you killed three people and then brought them back to life with that knife.”
“Ah, ah! If I didn’t have that knife, neither my wife nor my children would be any good,” boasted the old man.
“I wish I had a knife like that,” said the priest. “I beg you, respect me, a servant of God: let me have it, and ask for whatever you want in return.”
The old man refused, stubborn as a mule, but the priest wouldn’t give up. Finally, the priest wore him down and persuaded him.
The old man sold his knife for fifty rubles and said:
“Be careful, though. True, it’s a learned knife, but it’s still dangerous. Use it wisely, or something might go wrong.”
The priest returned home, eager to try the knife in action. He looked at his family and searched for any excuse to pick a fight. He found a reason, started grumbling, cursing, and soon the shouting and fighting began.
The priest pulled out the knife, grabbed his wife, and stabbed her.
His eldest daughter, a bride-to-be, saw this and rushed to her father. The priest grabbed her too and slit her throat.
He stood there, looking at them and smirking.
Neighbors came running at the noise and saw—what did they see? What no enemy would wish to see.
They all shouted:
“Our priest has gone mad, he’s killed his entire family!”
But the priest just laughed.
“What’s wrong with you? What drove you mad?” the people cried. “Why did you destroy your whole family? Is this how a man of God behaves?”
The priest laughed and said:
“They angered me, so I decided to scare them a little. Don’t worry, I’ll bring them back to life.”
He took his knife and started rubbing it against his wife’s neck, muttering something. But let your enemy rejoice as much as she was relieved by this. Who can bring the dead back to life?
The priest struggled for a long time, even brought in doctors, but nothing helped. Only then did he realize that the cursed old man had deceived him—both with the hat and with the knife.
He abandoned his dead family and ran to the old man—he knew the way well, as this was the third time he’d run there! He arrived and lunged at the old man like a snake.
“Why did you ruin me, destroy my entire family? Now I’ll make you pay!” he shouted.
He grabbed the old man, tied his hands and feet tightly with horsehair rope, and dragged him to the sea to drown him.
He dragged him there and looked for something to sail away from the shore. Suddenly, he saw a fisherman rowing a boat in the distance. The priest tied the old man even tighter so he couldn’t escape and ran to call the fisherman.
The fisherman looked, heard the priest calling, and rowed toward the shore.
What could the priest do? If he told the fisherman why he needed the boat, what fool would give it to him to drown a man?
The priest managed to outsmart everyone and tricked the fisherman into giving him the boat.
While the priest was running back and forth along the shore, shouting at the fisherman, the local church warden (who was grazing his sheep nearby) saw that the priest had dragged something on his back and then dropped it.
“Let me,” thought the thieving warden, “quietly take whatever our priest left on the ground.”
He approached and saw an old man lying on the ground, bound hand and foot.
The astonished warden asked:
“What happened to you?”
“So and so,” said the old man. “I invited this priest to visit, treated him with honor, slaughtered a sheep for him—the one I bought from you the other day—and he started shouting that it wasn’t a sheep at all, but a dog: ‘How dare you feed me, a priest, a man of God, with dog meat!’ he yelled. Now he’s going to drown me in the sea. He thought it was you, our church warden, who decided to mock him and sold me a dog instead of a sheep. Now I’m doomed. After me, he’s planning to kill you too. Save me, untie these ropes, let me escape! And run away yourself from our crazy priest, who has already slaughtered his entire family before he destroys you too.”
The warden got scared and untied him. The old man quickly undressed, threw his clothes on the ground, and ran off.
The warden stood frozen in shock, then remembered that the priest was planning to kill him too, and he also ran as far as he could.
The priest arrived in the fisherman’s boat and saw that the old man was gone, only his clothes were lying on the ground. The priest looked around, spotted the warden running in the distance, mistook him for the old man, and chased after him.
The warden ran from the priest, covering his head with his shirt in fear, shouting:
“I swear, it wasn’t a dog, it was a lamb, a wonderful lamb!”
But the priest wouldn’t listen. He caught up, struck him hard on the head with a stick, tied his hands and feet, and threw him into the boat.
They rowed out to deeper water, and the priest thought, “Well, now he definitely won’t be able to swim back from this depth,” lifted him up, and threw him into the water.
And so the church warden perished for nothing. He wouldn’t have drowned—he could have swum—but his hands and feet were tied.
The old man saw all this. He also saw that after the warden’s death, forty sheep were left without an owner. He picked up a stick and drove the sheep to his home.
Finally, the old man’s family began to live comfortably and prosperously.
Some time passed.
On market day, the old man selected twenty sheep and drove them to sell, hoping to buy new clothes for his children. And there he met the priest again, who loved to stroll around the market on Sundays, deceiving everyone.
The priest looked and saw the drowned old man standing there, selling a lot of sheep.
The priest stared, couldn’t believe his eyes, approached, and asked:
“Is it you I drowned in the sea?”
“It’s me,” said the old man, “but you should have rowed further out, it was too shallow. I only managed to catch forty sheep. Now I’m selling them dirt cheap, no point in being greedy—they didn’t cost me much effort. Eh, you don’t know how to do anything right, holy father. That knife was good, very good. Give it to me, and take two sheep for it.”
The priest was surprised and said:
“I’ll give you the knife, and I don’t want your sheep. Just do me a favor, take me to that same spot, throw me in the water, maybe I’ll manage to catch some sheep too.”
The cunning old man said:
“Of course you’ll catch some! Your hands and feet won’t be tied, you’ll catch a thousand sheep, or even five thousand! Just do me a favor, grab ten for me too.”
The old man led the greedy priest to unimaginable riches. But first, they stopped by the old man’s house and had a grand time.
At the feast, the greedy priest tried his best to eat and drink as much as he could—he loved getting things for free.
The old man’s wife said:
“You don’t know how to appreciate kindness, holy father. Everything my husband sold you was good: the oxen were fine, weren’t they? And the hat was proper. The knife was good too, and now you’ll get a lot of sheep for free, you’ll become very rich. Richer than our prince.”
The drunken priest got even more excited—he really wanted more wealth. He even forgot about his slaughtered family. The greedy priest decided to become unimaginably rich and buy himself a new young wife to replace the old one.
The priest feasted gloriously at the old man’s house.
Then the old man led the priest to the sea. He put him in the boat and rowed out.
The greedy priest shouted:
“Row further! I’ll catch more sheep than the prince has, to everyone’s envy. I’ll hire the prince to serve me and polish my boots! Even the Russian tsar will shake my hand. I’ll become the patriarch in Moscow!”
The old man rowed the completely drunk priest far from the shore, and the priest jumped from the boat into the water.
And so the priest has been searching for sheep ever since, but neither the sheep, nor the priest, nor the church warden have been seen since.
The whole village rejoiced along with the old man.
Before, the greedy priest and the thieving church warden had exploited all the peasants, scaring them with hell and demons when someone gave them too little money due to poverty. And if any poor peasant dared to protest their insatiable greed, the priest and the warden would immediately call the tsar’s soldiers to take the unfortunate poor man to prison.
Now, without the greedy priest and the thieving church warden, the peasants began to live much more joyfully and happily.
And the old man’s family never went hungry again. And now there was always enough money to pay for the children’s schooling, so they could grow up educated and wise.
The old man’s children studied, grew up, and became strong, and the whole family began to live in complete prosperity, even better than before.
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