Our honest friend journeyed on his way too; and if he was merry before,
he was now ten times more so. He had not gone far before he met an old
miser: close by them stood a tree, and on the topmost twig sat a thrush
singing away most joyfully. ‘Oh, what a pretty bird!’ said the miser; ‘I
would give a great deal of money to have such a one.’ ‘If that’s all,’
said the countryman, ‘I will soon bring it down.’ Then he took up his
bow, and down fell the thrush into the bushes at the foot of the tree.
The miser crept into the bush to find it; but directly he had got into
the middle, his companion took up his fiddle and played away, and the
miser began to dance and spring about, capering higher and higher in
the air. The thorns soon began to tear his clothes till they all hung
in rags about him, and he himself was all scratched and wounded, so that
the blood ran down. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ cried the miser, ‘Master!
master! pray let the fiddle alone. What have I done to deserve this?’
‘Thou hast shaved many a poor soul close enough,’ said the other; ‘thou
art only meeting thy reward’: so he played up another tune. Then the
miser began to beg and promise, and offered money for his liberty; but
he did not come up to the musician’s price for some time, and he danced
him along brisker and brisker, and the miser bid higher and higher, till
at last he offered a round hundred of florins that he had in his purse,
and had just gained by cheating some poor fellow. When the countryman
saw so much money, he said, ‘I will agree to your proposal.’ So he took
the purse, put up his fiddle, and travelled on very pleased with his
bargain.
Meanwhile the miser crept out of the bush half-naked and in a piteous
plight, and began to ponder how he should take his revenge, and serve
his late companion some trick. At last he went to the judge, and
complained that a rascal had robbed him of his money, and beaten him
into the bargain; and that the fellow who did it carried a bow at his
back and a fiddle hung round his neck. Then the judge sent out his
officers to bring up the accused wherever they should find him; and he
was soon caught and brought up to be tried.
The miser began to tell his tale, and said he had been robbed of
his money. ‘No, you gave it me for playing a tune to you.’ said the
countryman; but the judge told him that was not likely, and cut the
matter short by ordering him off to the gallows.
So away he was taken; but as he stood on the steps he said, ‘My Lord
Judge, grant me one last request.’ ‘Anything but thy life,’ replied the
other. ‘No,’ said he, ‘I do not ask my life; only to let me play upon
my fiddle for the last time.’ The miser cried out, ‘Oh, no! no! for
heaven’s sake don’t listen to him! don’t listen to him!’ But the judge
said, ‘It is only this once, he will soon have done.’ The fact was, he
could not refuse the request, on account of the dwarf’s third gift.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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