“It is not the king who has answered your questions,” observed the
aunt, when he had told his story. “He is far too stupid ever to have
done that! The person who has found out the puzzle is the son of a poor
woman, who, if he lives, will become King of Hungary. Therefore, if you
want the crown yourself, you must get him here and kill him.”
After this conversation another letter was written to the Court of
Hungary, saying that if the youth, now in the palace, was not sent to
Turkey within three days, a large army would cross the border. The
king’s heart was sorrowful as he read, for he was grateful to the lad
for what he had done to help him; but the boy only laughed, and bade
the king fear nothing, but to search the town instantly for two youths
just like each other, and he would paint himself a mask that was just
like them. And the sword at his side clanked loudly.
After a long search twin brothers were found, so exactly resembling
each other that even their own mother could not tell the difference.
The youth painted a mask that was the precise copy of them, and when he
had put it on, no one would have known one boy from the other. They set
out at once for the Sultan’s palace, and when they reached it, they
were taken straight into his presence. He made a sign for them to come
near; they all bowed low in greeting. He asked them about their
journey; they answered his questions all together, and in the same
words. If one sat down to supper, the others sat down at the same
instant. When one got up, the others got up too, as if there had been
only one body between them. The Sultan could not detect any difference
between them, and he told his aunt that he would not be so cruel as to
kill all three.
“Well, you will see a difference to-morrow,” replied the witch, “for
one will have a cut on his sleeve. That is the youth you must kill.”
And one hour before midnight, when witches are invisible, she glided
into the room where all three lads were sleeping in the same bed. She
took out a pair of scissors and cut a small piece out of the boy’s
coat-sleeve which was hanging on the wall, and then crept silently from
the room. But in the morning the youth saw the slit, and he marked the
sleeves of his two companions in the same way, and all three went down
to breakfast with the Sultan. The old witch was standing in the window
and pretended not to see them; but all witches have eyes in the backs
of their heads, and she knew at once that not one sleeve but three were
cut, and they were all as alike as before. After breakfast, the Sultan,
who was getting tired of the whole affair and wanted to be alone to
invent some other plan, told them they might return home. So, bowing
low with one accord, they went.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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