Two Peasants

Whether it happened or not, there lived a peasant in the village of Kirbali. One day, he went to work and met another peasant from the village of Zerti.
"Let's become brothers," said the man from Kirbali.
"Let's!" replied the other.
So they went together. Whatever they earned, they divided equally.

One day, the man from Kirbali met a fellow villager. He wanted to treat him, but he had no money. So he borrowed two five-kopeck coins from his friend. He treated his fellow villager, drank with him, and completely forgot about his friend. He didn’t even toast to his health. When the guest left, the friend said:
"What’s this, brother? You treated your fellow villager with my money and didn’t even say a word to me? You could’ve invited me! I would’ve come, added more money, toasted to your health, and we’d have had a good time."
"That’s just my bad character," said the man from Kirbali. "You see, when I borrow money from someone, I’d rather die than pay it back. There’s nothing to gain from me."
"Well, I have a bad character too," said the other. "You know us, the people of Zerti! If someone owes me money, even if they die, I won’t let it go. I’ll take what’s mine, even from the grave."

When they finished their work, they received their money and began dividing it. The peasant from Zerti said:
"Listen, friend, you have money now. Give me back my two five-kopeck coins."
"No," said the man from Kirbali, "you have money now too. Why do you need more? Come visit me on Sunday, and I’ll give it to you then."

The man from Zerti came on Sunday.
The man from Kirbali welcomed him warmly. He slaughtered a chicken, treated him with honor, and sent him away, saying:
"I don’t have the money right now. Come back next Sunday."
The man from Zerti came the following Sunday. Again, the man from Kirbali welcomed him warmly, treated him, but didn’t give him the money.

Every Sunday, the peasant from Zerti would visit the man from Kirbali. He would be treated, fed, and given drink, but never the money.

Finally, the man from Kirbali ran out of chickens. His wife got angry and scolded him:
"Why are you feeding this freeloader? Just give him his two five-kopeck coins. We’ve run out of chickens—are you going to slaughter the cow for him next?"
"What can I do now?" said the man from Kirbali. "I boasted. For better or worse, I have to stick to it. If I give him the money now, it’ll be a disgrace. I’ll pretend to be dead, and when he comes, you sit and cry. If he asks, tell him cholera killed me. He’ll get scared and leave."

Sunday came. The peasant from Zerti arrived, and the man from Kirbali lay down, stretched out like a corpse, not breathing.
"Hello, neighbor," said the guest to the wife.
"Hello," she replied, sighing.
"Why are you so sad, neighbor? And where’s my sworn brother?"
"Oh, neighbor, it’s a tragedy. Cholera took him."

The guest understood what kind of "cholera" had taken his friend and said:
"Oh, what a misfortune! But what can we do? Who will help in such grief if not me? You know, everyone will run away if they hear you have cholera. Bring me some planks, and I’ll make a coffin. I’ll carry him away and bury him—he can’t just lie around the house."

He made her bring planks, built a coffin, placed the man from Kirbali inside, hoisted it onto his back, and carried it to an old church. He set the coffin down and hid, waiting. Night fell.

At that time, robbers had started appearing in the area. They would come to this abandoned church at night to divide their loot.

That night, three robbers arrived, bringing a bag of gold and silver. They spread it out, divided it into three parts, but they also had a fine saber. They couldn’t agree on how to split it.
"Let’s do this," said one. "Whoever can chop off this corpse’s head with one swing of the saber gets to keep it."
"No," said another. "Whoever can split him in two with one swing gets it."
The third said:
"No, whoever can chop off both his legs with one swing gets it."

The man from Kirbali lay in the coffin, trembling—they were about to start hacking at him. He lay there, and then suddenly jumped up and shouted:
"Rise, all you dead, old and new! Catch the robbers! Grab them!"
The robbers were terrified. They dropped all the gold and ran for their lives.

The peasant from Zerti came out, laughing:
"So that’s how you died!"
All the loot went to the two of them.

They divided it all as brothers, and the peasant from Zerti said again:
"Listen, friend, give me my two five-kopeck coins now."
But the man from Kirbali still refused.
They started arguing, cursing, and it almost came to blows.

Meanwhile, the robbers, after running far enough and calming down, decided to find out if the dead really had risen, old and new, or if it had all been their imagination. They sent one of their braver members to investigate carefully.

The scout arrived and peeked into the church. The man from Kirbali saw him, snatched his hat, and threw it to his sworn brother:
"Here’s your two five-kopeck coins! What, still not satisfied?"
The robber ran off, half-dead from fear. He returned, gasping for breath:
"Oh, brothers, there are so many dead there that they’re fighting over the loot. They only got two five-kopeck coins each, and they’re tearing each other apart. They even took my hat—it went into the division. I barely escaped alive."
And so ended the story of the debt of the man from Kirbali.

Death there, feast here,
Chaff there, flour here.

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Two Peasants

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