Datura Grass

The night of the wandering merchant on the road had come. So, he turned into a village trattoria. The merchant placed his box, in which he carried his goods, in the corner and asked the hostess to prepare dinner.

The hostess went to the kitchen to fry eggs with pork. She kindles the brushwood in the hearth, and she thinks to herself: "I wish I knew what the guest has in that box."

She fries the eggs, muttering to herself: "The box, it seems, is full of all sorts of things. When the merchant put it in the corner, the floor even shook."

The hostess serves the frying pan to the guest, but she keeps glancing at the box. "What good is that box to anyone! One hostess will buy a ribbon, another – a buckle... All the goods will be sold in bits and pieces. But if all this were in one pair of hands... Mine, for example!" Meanwhile, the guest ate the eggs, wiped the pan with a crust of bread, and dozed off right there on the bench.

And the hostess ran to her husband and whispered:

"Oh, if only you knew what's in the merchant's box! There would be enough for you to have a jacket and trousers, and as for me, I could sew myself dresses! How can we make the merchant leave and the box stay?"

"Nothing could be simpler," replied the husband. "Slip him a potion of datura herb. Whoever drinks even a drop of this potion will have their memory wiped clean. The guest will leave and forget the box. Then it will be ours."

The wife was very pleased. She ran to the meadow, picked some datura herb, brewed it in a teapot, and added three drops of the potion to a glass of wine.

And the merchant kept sleeping on the bench. The hostess shook him awake and said:

"Wake up, sir, I've brought you a glass of wine."

"But I didn't order any wine," the merchant was surprised.

"That's the custom in our trattoria," explained the hostess, "whoever orders eggs gets a free glass of wine."

"Good custom you have here!" exclaimed the merchant and drained the glass in one gulp.

Then he lay down more comfortably and began to snore again.

The host and hostess also lay down, but sleep did not come to them. All night they whispered about how they would manage the unexpected wealth. They only fell asleep towards morning. And they woke up because the sun was shining right in their eyes.

The hostess got up, looked into the room where the guest was sleeping, and began to scold her husband.

"You've lived to gray hairs, and you still believe other people's tales and confuse me. You old fool! Tell me, what's your datura herb worth! There's no box, the guest took it with him."

"Well, if he took the box, he must have forgotten something else," said the husband. "The datura herb will definitely do its job."

"I'm telling you, he didn't forget anything!" shouted the wife.

"It can't be," insisted the husband, "if he drank the potion, he must have forgotten something."

Then the wife slapped her forehead.

"That's it!"

"See, I was right," said the pleased husband. "So what did he forget?"

"He forgot to pay for dinner and lodging, that's what he forgot!"

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Datura Grass

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