# Tales and Legends from the Land of the Tzar/Honesty and Dishonesty

HONESTY AND DISHONESTY.
One day two peasants were conversing; one of them was boastful and untruthful, the other famed for truthfulness and honesty. The one was saying that it was better to live, telling lies and cheating everybody, and be rich; while the other replied that it was far better to live in poverty, as long as you were honest and truthful. So they began to dispute and quarrel, neither of them wishing to give in. They at last decided to go out into the village high-road, and ask the opinion of the very first person they met.
They walked and walked, and soon saw a peasant ploughing in a field close to the road; they went up to him, and said,—
"Good man, judge our quarrel: how is it better to live in the wide world—honestly or dishonestly?—telling the truth or by telling lies?"
"Ah, my brothers, you cannot possibly live honestly in this world all your life! You must tell a lie now and then! Besides, an honest and truthful man must walk about all his life in straw shoes, while a liar and a dishonest man can walk in handsome boots. Take us, for example, our masters unjustly take our days from us, leaving no time for us to ​work in; we therefore have to pretend that we are overcome by sickness, and during that time go wood-cutting in the forest; if wood-cutting is forbidden by day, we go at night. We have always to dodge about in this world, my friends. We could not possibly get on otherwise."
"Do you hear that?" said the liar to the honest man. "What I told you was perfectly true!"
But his companion would not be convinced, so they walked on farther, till they came across a merchant driving a waggon.
"Stop for a moment, good sir!" they cried; "we want you to do us a favour, if you will not resent it, and promise not to be angry with us."
"What is it?"
"We want you to decide our quarrel, and tell us whether it is better to live honestly in this world or dishonestly?"
"Ah, my children! it is difficult to live honestly. For my part, I think it is best to be dishonest; people cheat us, so why should we not cheat them?"
"You hear!" cried the liar to his companion. "This good man is of my opinion, like the other."
Still the truthful man would not listen to his friend, so they went on farther and met a noble coming along the road; they stopped him, and said,—
"Kindly judge our quarrel for us; how is it best to live in this world, honestly or dishonestly?"
"Well, you certainly have found something to quarrel about. You must have been very hard pressed for conversation. Of course, being dishonest is the only way to get on. What honesty and truth ​fulness is there in this world? You get sent to Siberia if you are honest and tell the truth!"
"You see, my friend, I am right after all!" said the liar. "Every one thinks as I do, that it is better to live dishonestly."
"No," said the truthful man, "it is not better, and I do not intend to live dishonestly, to please any one. If any misfortunes happen to me—well, let them!"
After this the two men went off in search of work; they journeyed on together for some time. The dishonest man always knowing how to adapt himself to the company he was in, wherever he went he had plenty to eat and drink and nothing to pay; while the honest man had to work for every drop of water and morsel of bread he got—yet he did not grumble, he was perfectly satisfied.
The dishonest man meanwhile laughed to himself as he watched his companion.
When they had at last passed the village and reached the open country, where there were no inns or houses of any kind, the honest man became very hungry, and asked his companion to give him a morsel of bread, for he had plenty.
"But what will you give me for the bread?"
"Take whatever you like, though I have not much to lose."
"Well, then, let me put out your eye!"
"Very well, put it out!"
The horrid man did so, and gave him a very small piece of bread in return.
They went on and on, until the honest man again ​became hungry, and asked his friend for another piece of bread.
"Very well, on condition that you let me knock out your other eye!"
"But if you do that, brother, I shall be blind!"
"Well, what matters, you are an honest, truthful man, you ought not to mind!"
"Well, if it must be so, it must! One cannot put up with hunger; if you are not afraid of committing the sin, knock out my eye and be happy."
The wretch did so, and giving his unfortunate companion a still smaller piece of bread than the first, left him in the middle of the deserted country-road, and said,—
"Go, find your way by yourself. I am not going to lead a blind man about!"
After having eaten his piece of bread, the blind man felt his way along.
"Perhaps," thought he, "I may manage to find my way to the next village."
But he soon lost his way, and did not know where to go. He stopped, and throwing himself on his knees, began to pray to the saints to help him.
"Do not forsake me, miserable sinner that I am!" he cried.
He prayed and prayed for a long time, and then heard a voice quite close to him saying,—
"Turn to your right, good man, and you will come to a forest where you will hear the murmur of a fountain; feel your way to it, bathe your eyes in the clear water, and your eyesight will be restored. ​You will then see a large oak-tree, climb up into it, and stop there through the night."
The blind man turned to the right, and with some difficulty reached the forest. He crawled along a path which soon brought him up to the murmuring fountain, and dipping his hands into the water, he began bathing his eyes. No sooner had he done so when his eyesight returned, and he was able to look about him once more. Not very far from the fountain stood an old oak-tree, under which the grass seemed to have been greatly trampled down, and the earth around was dug up here and there and scattered about everywhere. He climbed up into the tree and waited until nightfall.
At about midnight a number of evil spirits came flying down from all sides on to the trampled grass, and began boasting about what they had done and where they had been. One little devil said,—
"I went to the beautiful princess, the king's daughter, and tormented her all day. I have gone on tormenting her for over ten years, and no one can cast me out, though many a handsome prince has tried, but all in vain; and, between ourselves, no one will ever succeed unless some fellow obtains that large image of the Virgin Mary, which is in the possession of a certain wealthy merchant; but then no one would ever think of that, and besides, if they did, the merchant would never part with it."
In the morning when all the devils had flown away, our friend the truthful man, who had heard the whole of the conversation, came down from his hiding-place in the tree and went in search of the rich merchant.
​After inquiring everywhere, he at last found the merchant, and asked him to take him as a workman, saying,—
"I will work hard for you for a whole year, but I want no wages. All I ask for is to have the famous image of the Virgin Mary which is in your possession."
The merchant consented, and the man worked away night and day, without a moment's rest, for he was very anxious to please his master. When the year was over he came to the merchant and asked for his reward.
"I am more than pleased with your work," the merchant said; "but I do not wish to part with the picture. Would not money do as well? You could have as much of it as you pleased, if that would satisfy you."
"No; money would be of no use to me. Give me what you promised, and what you agreed upon when you took me."
"It is hard for me to part with that picture; in fact, I don't know what I should do without it! Still, if you will work another year for me, I will give it to you."
There was no help for it, and the truthful man was obliged to consent.
When the year was over, the merchant was again loath to part with the picture.
"I would rather reward you with all possible treasures," the merchant said, "than part with the picture; but if you are determined to have it, you must stop with me and work for another year."
It was difficult to argue with such a rich and ​influential man as the merchant; besides, it would not have been wise, under the circumstances. So our friend stayed and worked for his master another whole year, better and harder, if possible, than before.
At the end of the third year the merchant actually took down the picture from the wall, and gave it to the man, saying,—
"Take it, my good fellow, for you have worked so hard and so well, without ever grumbling, that I cannot refuse you this time; take it, and may the saints bless you."
The truthful man thanked the merchant, and taking the picture went to the king's palace, where the devil was tormenting the princess.
"I can cure the princess," he said to the servants and people at court. When they heard this they seized him by the hands and brought him before the king, who was sitting on his throne, looking the picture of misery.
The king at once had him taken to the room where the afflicted princess was kept. The man then asked for a large bowl of fresh water, into which he dipped the picture three times, and then bringing the water to the beautiful princess made her bathe her face in it. Hardly had she done so, when out sprang the demon, writhing until he became lifeless. When the enemy had expired, the lovely damsel became quite well and bright again.
The king and queen were delighted, and did not know how they could best reward the good man who had proved such an excellent doctor. They wanted to ennoble him; they wanted to give him a quantity ​of all kinds of treasures and good things; but no, he would have nothing.
"I don't want anything," he said.
"I shall marry him," the princess whispered to her father, "if he would care to have me!"
"Very well!" replied the king.
As for our friend he did not object in the least, but was delighted. The wedding was then prepared, and the news immediately spread all over the kingdom, so that when the great day arrived there was quite a crowd to see the bride and bridegroom.
From that day forth our friend, the truthful man, lived in the palace, was clad in royal garments, and dined at the king's table.
Time passed, and our friend asked the king and queen to let him go and have a look at his own country.
"I have an old mother living in the village from which I come, and I want to see her again."
"Let us go together," said the princess.
So they drove off in a lovely carriage and pair belonging to the king.
They drove and drove, and on their way they met the wretch who had knocked out our friend's eyes.
When the king's son-in-law saw him he stopped the carriage, and called out,—
"How are you, my brother? Have you forgotten me? Do you not remember the quarrel we had together about honesty and dishonesty? and you knocking my eyes out because I did not agree with you."
​The wretch began to tremble and did not know what to do or what to say.
"Do not be afraid, my friend," said the other; "I am not angry with you."
And then he began to explain everything to the dishonest man; how he had gone to the forest, and what he had heard there, and how he had worked three years for the rich merchant, and then received the picture of the Virgin Mary, and had at last married the king's beautiful daughter.
When the dishonest man heard this, he thought he would also go into the forest and climb up the old oak-tree.
"Perhaps," said he to himself, "I shall be just as fortunate as my friend!"
So he went to the forest, found the murmuring fountain and the old oak-tree, into which he climbed and waited until nightfall.
At midnight the evil spirits again flew down from all sides on to the grass below; but this time they looked up, and seeing the dishonest man hiding in the tree, they seized him and tore him into a number of very small pieces.