The Black Horse

In a village not far from San Marino, there lived a peasant named Giuseppe Franciosi, or simply Peppe. He had a small plot of land and two hardworking hands. Hands are good helpers in the household, but Peppe always wanted to have a donkey as well. Coin by coin—two coins, three coins—Peppe saved until he had enough to go to the market and buy a donkey.

On the very first Sunday, Peppe, dressed as if for a holiday with a flower behind his ear, set off for the market. As he walked, he sang at the top of his lungs:

"I am Peppe, Giuseppe,
Marching forward,
And everything around me sings along.

I work until I sweat, but life is dear to me.
To work even better,
I’ll buy myself a donkey."

The priest heard this song and rushed out the gate:
"My son Giuseppe, if your song is to be believed, you’re planning to buy a donkey?"

"You guessed it, Father!"

"Ah, my son, there are many swindlers at the market. They’ll sell you some half-dead beast that will stumble over every stone. I feel sorry for you. Very well, I’ll let you have my best friend, a remarkable donkey."

Peppe was delighted. He didn’t know what kind of donkey the priest had.

They quickly struck a deal. The priest led the donkey out of the gate, then hurried back into his house and locked the door.

The donkey immediately showed what a priceless helper Peppe had acquired. It quickly learned to kick its new owner in the leg and bite his ear. Then it suddenly bolted forward like a fine steed.

"Stop, stop!" Peppe shouted and ran after it.

But as soon as Peppe caught up, the donkey stood as if rooted to the spot. Peppe tried to coax it, prod it, and even beat it. The donkey didn’t budge. Then, apparently bored, it galloped off again. And so they made their way home—twenty steps running, half an hour standing still.

How could Giuseppe Franciosi have let himself be fooled? Well, as the saying goes, it takes one and a half swindlers to outsmart a swindler. And Peppe was no swindler. But he didn’t want to be made a fool of either.

The following Sunday, Peppe set off for the market again—not to buy, but to sell. He led a small horse by the reins. It was black as coal and shone like a polished boot.

As he passed the priest’s house, Peppe sang another song:

"Gray donkey, black horse.
Here’s a riddle for you, Father.
If you guess it, well, that’s my bad luck.
But if you don’t, I’ll have a good laugh."

The priest looked out the window and saw the lovely little horse.

"Where are you taking it, my son?"

"To the market, to sell."

"Black ponies are the liveliest," the priest remarked.

"Of course," Peppe replied. "You can tell a beast by its coat, and this one doesn’t have a single light spot."

"I might be willing to buy your pony," said the priest.

"As you wish, Father. But don’t complain later. A buyer needs a hundred eyes, but a seller only needs one. I know that well."

"I’ve already seen all I need to see," the priest replied. "Now I want to hear what you’re asking for the horse."

Peppe named a price that could buy four donkeys. The priest offered a price that could buy a quarter of a donkey. They began to haggle. The seller lowered his price, the buyer raised his. In less than three hours, they reached an agreement. The priest paid twice as much for the black horse as Peppe had paid for the donkey.

The pleased priest decided the horse would look even better after a bath.

He ordered his servant to lead the pony to the river, while he walked alongside, admiring his purchase.

Suddenly, the pony kicked its hind legs and tried to bite the priest.

"Hmm," said the servant, "if this pony weren’t so black, I’d think it was our gray donkey."

"What nonsense!" the priest scolded. "The horse just wants to play!"

When they reached the river, the pony waded in up to its knees and stopped. It refused to go any further. As the servant tugged on the reins and the priest pushed from behind, the water around them turned black as ink.

"I think," said the servant, "this really is our donkey. Look, Father, the water’s black, but its legs are gray."

"How can that be?" the priest argued. "I paid as much for it as two donkeys are worth. You know what? Let’s not bathe it after all."

But as soon as he said this, the pony lunged forward, and all three of them plunged headfirst into the water.

When they surfaced—the priest, his servant, and the gray donkey—the priest wailed, "Just think! That scoundrel Peppe sold me my own donkey!"

But there was nothing to be done. The soaked priest had to drag his stubborn donkey back home.

Since then, San Marino has had a saying: deception returns to the deceiver’s house!

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The Black Horse

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