First, he went to King Simon. He did not go to him in his own shape, but disguised himself as a general, and arrived at Simon’s palace.
“I hear, King Simon,” he said, “that you are a great warrior, and as I know that business well, I desire to serve you.”
King Simon questioned him, and thinking he was a wise man, took him into his service.
The new commander began to teach King Simon how to form a strong army.
“First,” said he, “we must levy more soldiers, for there are in your kingdom many people unemployed. We must recruit all the young men without exception. Then you will have five times as many soldiers as before. Secondly, we must get new rifles and cannons. I will introduce rifles that will fire a hundred balls at once; they will fly out like peas. And I will get cannons that will consume with fire either man, or horse, or wall. They will burn up everything!”
Simon the King listened to the new commander, ordered all young men without exception to be enrolled as soldiers, and had new factories built in which he manufactured large quantities of improved rifles and cannons. Then he made haste to declare war against a neighboring king. As soon as he met the other army, King Simon ordered his soldiers to rain rifle balls against it and shoot fire from the cannons, and in one blow he burned and crippled half the enemy’s army. The neighboring king was so thoroughly frightened that he gave up and surrendered.
King Simon was delighted.
“Now,” he said, “I will conquer the King of India.”
But the Indian King had heard about King Simon, and had adopted all his inventions, and added more of his own. The Indian King enlisted not only all the young men, but all the single women also, and gathered a greater army even than King Simon’s. And he copied all King Simon’s rifles and cannons, and invented a way of flying through the air to rain down bombs from above.
King Simon set out to fight the Indian King, expecting to beat him as he had beaten the other king; but the scythe that had cut so well had lost its edge. The King of India did not let Simon’s army come within gunshot, but sent his women through the air to hurl down bombs onto Simon’s army. The women began to rain down bombs onto the army like borax upon cockroaches. The army ran away, and Simon the King was left alone.
So the Indian King took Simon’s kingdom, and Simon the Soldier fled as best he might.
Having finished with this brother, the old Devil went to King Tarás. Changing himself into a merchant, he settled in Tarás’s kingdom, started a house of business, and began spending money. He paid high prices for everything, and everybody hurried to the new merchant to get money. And so much money spread among the people that they began to pay all their taxes promptly, and paid up all their arrears, and King Tarás rejoiced.
“Thanks to the new merchant,” he thought, “I shall have more money than ever; and my life will be yet more comfortable.”
Tarás the King began to form fresh plans and to build a new palace. He gave notice that people should bring him wood and stone, and he fixed high prices for everything. King Tarás thought people would come in crowds to work as before, but to his surprise all the wood and stone was taken to the merchant’s, and all the workmen went there too. King Tarás increased his price, but the merchant bid yet more. King Tarás had money, but the merchant had still more, and outbid the King at every point.
The King’s palace remained at a standstill as no building occurred.
King Tarás planned a garden, and when autumn came he called for the people to come and plant seedlings in the garden, but no one came. All the people were busy digging a pond for the merchant. Winter came, and King Tarás wanted to buy sable furs for a new overcoat. He sent servants to buy them, but they returned and said, “There are no sables left. The merchant has all the furs. He paid the best price and has made carpets of the skins.”
Then King Tarás wanted to buy some stallions. He sent an emissary to buy them, but he returned saying, “The merchant has all the good stallions; they are carrying water to fill his pond.”
All the King’s affairs came to a standstill. No one would work for him, for everyone was busy working for the merchant; and they only brought King Tarás the merchant’s money to pay their taxes.
The King collected so much money that he had nowhere to store it, and his life became wretched. He ceased to form plans, and would have been glad enough simply to live, but he was hardly able even to do that. He ran short of everything. One after another his cooks, coachmen, and servants left him for the merchant. Soon he lacked even food. When he sent to the market, there was nothing to be bought—the merchant had purchased everything, and people only brought the King money to pay their taxes.
Desperate and enraged, Tarás banished the merchant from the country. But the merchant settled just across the border and business went on as before. For the sake of the merchant’s money, people took everything to him instead of to the King.
For days now the King had nothing to eat, and soon a rumor spread that the merchant was boasting that he would buy up the King himself! Frightened, King Tarás became frozen; he did not know what to do.
It was then that Simon the Soldier came to him, saying, “Help me, for the King of India has conquered my kingdom!”
But King Tarás himself was head over heels in difficulties.
“I myself,” said he, “have had nothing to eat for two days. Thanks for asking.”
XI
Having brought two brothers low, the old Devil went to Iván. He changed himself into a General and came before Iván to persuade him that he ought to have an army.
“It does not become a king,” said the old Devil, “to be without an army. Only give me the order, and I will collect soldiers from among your people, and form one.”
Iván listened to him. “All right,” said Iván, “form an army, and teach them to sing songs well. I would like to hear them do that.”
The old Devil went through Iván’s kingdom to enlist men. He told them to enlist as soldiers, and each should have a quart of spirits and a fine red cap.
The people laughed.
“We have plenty of spirits,” they said. “We make it ourselves; and as for caps, the women make all kinds of them, even striped ones with tassels.”
No one decided to enlist.
The old Devil went back to Iván and said: “Your fools won’t enlist of their own free will. We shall have to make them.”
“All right,” said Iván, “you can try.”
The old Devil gave notice that all the people must enlist, and that Iván would put to death anyone who refused.
The people came to the General and said, “You say that if we do not become soldiers the King will put us to death, but you don’t say what will happen if we do enlist. We have heard it said that soldiers get killed!”
“Yes, that happens sometimes.”
When the people heard this, they became obstinate.
“We won’t go,” they said. “Better to meet death at home. Either way we must die.”
“Fools! You are fools!” the old Devil said. “A soldier may be killed or he may not, but if you don’t go, King Iván will have you killed for certain.”
The people were puzzled and went to Iván the Fool to consult him.
“A General has come,” they said, “who says we must all become soldiers. ‘If you become soldiers,’ he says, ‘you may be killed or you may not, but if you don’t go, King Iván will certainly kill you.’ Is this true?”
Iván laughed and said, “How can I, alone, put all of you to death? If I were not a fool I would explain it to you, but as it is, I don’t understand it myself.”
“Then,” said they, “we will not serve.”
“All right,” said he, “don’t.”
The people went to the General and refused to enlist. And the old Devil
saw that the jig was up, and he went off and ingratiated himself with the King of Tarakán.
“Let us make war,” says he, “and conquer King Iván’s country. It is true there is no money, but there is plenty of corn and cattle and everything else.”
So the King of Tarakán prepared to make war. He mustered a great army, provided rifles and cannons, marched to the frontier, and entered Iván’s kingdom.
The people came to Iván and said, “The King of Tarakán is coming to make war on us.”
“All right,” said Iván, “let him come.”
Having crossed the frontier, the King of Tarakán sent scouts to look for Iván’s army. They looked and looked, but there was no army! They waited and waited for one to appear, but there were no signs of an army, and nobody to fight with.
The King of Tarakán then made to seize the villages. The soldiers came to a village, and the people, both men and women, rushed out in astonishment to stare at the soldiers. The soldiers began to take their corn and cattle; the people let them have it and did not resist. The soldiers went on to another village; the same thing happened again. The soldiers went on for one day, and for two days, and everywhere the same thing happened. The people let them have everything, and no one resisted, but only invited the soldiers to live with them.
“Poor fellows,” said they, “if you have a hard life in your own land, why don’t you come and stay with us?”
The soldiers marched and marched: still no army, only people living and feeding themselves and others, and not resisting, but inviting the soldiers to stay and live with them. The soldiers found it dull work, and they came to the King of Tarakán and said, “We cannot fight here, lead us elsewhere. War is all right, but what is this? It is like cutting pea-soup! We cannot make war under these conditions.”
The King of Tarakán grew angry, and ordered his soldiers to overrun the whole kingdom, to destroy the villages, to burn the grain and the houses, and to slaughter the cattle. “And if you do not obey my orders,” he roared, “I will execute you all.”
The soldiers were frightened, and began to act according to the King’s orders. They began to burn houses and corn, and to kill cattle. But the fools still offered no resistance, and only wept. The old men wept, and the old women wept, and the young people wept.
“Why do you harm us?” they said. “Why do you waste good things? If you need them, why do you not take them for yourselves?”
At last the soldiers could stand it no longer. They refused to serve their king any longer, and the army disbanded and fled.
XII
The old Devil decided to give up. He could not get the better of Iván with soldiers. So he changed himself into a fine gentleman, and settled down in Iván’s kingdom. He meant to overcome him by means of money, as he had overcome Tarás the Stout.
“I wish,” he said, “to do you a good turn, to teach you sense and reason. I will build a house among you and organize a trade.”
“All right,” Iván said, “come and live among us if you like.”
Next morning, the fine gentleman went out into the public square with a big sack of gold and a sheet of paper and said: “You all live like swine. I wish to teach you how to live properly. Build me a house according to this plan. You shall work, I will tell you how, and I will pay you with gold coins.” And he showed them the gold.
The fools were astonished; there was no money in use among them; they bartered their goods and paid one another with labor. They looked at the gold coins with surprise.
“What nice little things they are!” said they.
And they began to exchange their goods and labor for the gentleman’s gold pieces. And the old Devil began, as in Tarás’s kingdom, to be free with his gold, and the people began to exchange everything for gold and to do all sorts of work for it.
The old Devil was delighted, and thought to himself, “Things are going right this time. Now I shall ruin the Fool as I did Tarás, and I shall buy him up body and soul.”
But as soon as the fools had provided themselves with gold pieces they gave them to the women for necklaces. The lasses plaited them into their tresses, and at last the children in the street began to play with the gold.
Everyone had plenty of them, and they stopped taking them. But the fine gentleman’s mansion was not yet half-built, and the grain and cattle for the year not yet provided. So he gave notice that he wished people to come and work for him, and that he wanted cattle and grain; for each thing, and for each service, he was ready to give many more pieces of gold.
But no one came to work and nothing was brought. Sometimes a boy or girl would run up to exchange an egg for a gold coin, but no one else, and he had nothing to eat. Being hungry, the fine gentleman went through the village to try and buy something for dinner. He stopped at one house, and offered a gold piece for a fowl, but the housewife wouldn’t take it.
“I have a lot already,” she said.
He tried at a widow’s house to buy a herring and offered a gold piece.
“I don’t want it, my good sir,” said she. “I have no children to play with it, and I myself already have three coins as curiosities.”
He tried at a peasant’s house to get bread, but neither would the peasant take money.
“I don’t need it,” said he, “but if you are begging ‘for Christ’s sake,’ wait a bit and I’ll tell the housewife to cut you a piece of bread.”
At that the Devil spat and ran away. To hear Christ’s name mentioned—let alone the thought of receiving anything for Christ’s sake—hurt him more than sticking a knife into him.
No bread was forthcoming. Everyone had gold, and no matter where the old Devil went, every one said, “Either bring something else, or come and work, or receive what you want in charity for Christ’s sake.”
But the old Devil had nothing but money; for work he had no liking, and as for taking anything “for Christ’s sake” he could not do that. The old Devil grew very angry.
“What more do you want, when I give you money?” said he. “You can buy everything with gold and hire any kind of laborer.” But the fools did not heed him.
“No, we do not want money,” they said. “We have no payments to make, and no taxes, so what should we do with it?”
The old Devil lay down to sleep—supperless.
* * *
—
The affair was told to Iván the Fool. People came and asked him, “What are we to do? A fine gentleman has turned up, who likes to eat and drink and dress well, but he does not like to work, won’t beg in ‘Christ’s name,’ but only offers gold pieces to everyone. At first people gave him all he wanted, until they had plenty of gold pieces, but now no one gives him anything. What’s to be done with him? He will die of hunger before long.”
Iván listened.
“All right,” he said, “we must feed him. Let him live by turn at each house as a shepherd does.”
There was no help for it. The old Devil had to begin making the rounds, if he wanted any chance left of destroying the fool.
In due course, the turn came for him to go to Iván’s house. The old Devil came in to dinner, and the mute girl was getting it ready.
She had often been deceived by lazy folk who came early to dinner, without having done their share of work, and then ate up all the porridge, so it had occurred to her to discover the sluggards by their hands. Those who had calloused hands she put at the table, but the others got only the leftover scraps.
The old Devil sat down at the table, but the mute girl seized him by the hands and looked at them—there were no hard places or whorls there: the hands were clean and smooth, with long nails. The mute girl gave a grunt and pulled the Devil away from the table.
Iván’s wife said to him, “Don’t be offended, fine gentleman. My sister-in-law does not allow anyone to com
e to table who hasn’t calloused hands. But wait awhile—after the folk have eaten, you shall have what is left.”
The old Devil was offended that in the King’s house they wished him to feed like a pig. He said to Iván, “It is a foolish law you have in your kingdom that everyone must work with his hands. It’s your stupidity that invented it. Do people work only with their hands? What do you think wise men work with?”
Iván said, “How are we fools to know? We do most of our work with our hands and our backs.”
“That is because you are fools! But I will teach you how to work with the head. Then you will know that it is more profitable to work with the head than with the hands.”
Iván was surprised.
“If that is so,” said he, “then there is some sense in calling us fools!”
The old Devil went on: “Only it is not easy to work with one’s head. You give me nothing to eat, because I have no hard places on my hands, but you do not know that it is a hundred times more difficult to work with the head. Sometimes one’s head quite splits.”
Iván became thoughtful.
“Why, then, friend, do you torture yourself so? Is it pleasant when the head splits? Would it not be better to do easier work with your hands and your back?”
The Devil said, “I do it all out of pity for you fools. If I didn’t torture myself you would remain fools forever. But, having worked with my head, I can now teach you.”
Iván was surprised.
“Do teach us!” he said, “so that when our hands get cramps and bruises we may use our heads for a change.”
* * *
—
And the Devil promised to teach the people. So Iván gave notice throughout the kingdom that a fine gentleman had come who would teach everybody how to work with their heads; that with the head more could be done than with the hands; and that the people ought all to come and learn.
There was in Iván’s kingdom a high tower, with many steps leading up to a lantern on the top. Iván took the gentleman up there that every one might see him.
The Big Book of Classic Fantasy Page 47