So Egóri went and mounted his horse, came up to the gipsy, and told him: “I shall now tell you the truth. If you had not taken the stirrup, I should have forgotten all about it.” “I thought as much,” said the gipsy. “Now, for all eternity, you cannot forget me if you only look down at your stirrup, and I shall be always in your mind. Well, what did the Lord say to you?” “Oh, He told me from whomsoever you take or steal you will cheat and perjure yourself; that will be your trade.” “Thank you very much,” said the gipsy, and he bowed down to the ground, and went home. “Where are you going?” said Egóri. “Give me my golden stirrup!” “What stirrup?” “Didn’t you take one from me?” “How in the world could I take one from you? This is the first time I have seen you, and I have not even had a stirrup. Before God!—I never have!” And so the gipsy perjured himself. What could he do? He could struggle and fight it out, Egóri could, and so he did; but it was all no good. It is perfectly true, and the gipsy spoke the truth: “If I had not given him the stirrup!—if I had not only known him! Now I shall forget him no more.” So the gipsy took the golden stirrup and began hawking it. And as he went on his way, a fine lord came and met him. “Hullo, gipsy!” he said. “Will you sell the stirrup?” “Yes—all right!” “What will you take?” “Fifteen hundred roubles.” “Much too dear, isn’t that?” “Well, you see, it is all gold.” “Very well!” said his lordship; and he put his hand into his pocket, and he only had a thousand. “You just take this thousand, gipsy, and then give me the stirrup: I will send you on the odd five hundred.” “Oh, no, my lord! One thousand roubles I will certainly take, but I shall not give up the stirrup. When you carry out your part of the bargain, then you shall receive the stirrup.” So the lord gave him the thousand, and he went home. The very instant he got there he took out five hundred roubles, and sent his man up to the gipsy, telling him to give the money to him and to take the golden stirrup. When his lordship’s groom came to the gipsy’s _izbá_,[5] “Hail, gipsy!” he said. “How fare you, good man? I have brought you the money from his lordship.” “Well, give it me if you have brought it.” So the gipsy took the five hundred roubles, and gave the man a glass of wine, and then another, until the man had his fill. And when he had had his fill the groom began to make his way home, and said to the peasant: “Now give me the golden stirrup.” “What?” “Yes—the stirrup which you sold my master.” “What, _I_ sold it! I never had a golden stirrup!” “Well, then, give me the money back.” “What money?” “But I just gave you five hundred roubles!” “I have not even seen a _grívennik_[6]—never in my life! I looked after you kindly, simply for the sake of our Lord, and not in the least in order to get any money out of you.” And in this manner the gipsy had disavowed everything.