One day a guy named Markel was captured by the Turks. There he spent many years. And he was clever, a jack of all trades, a merry fellow and a singer. Everyone loved him.
The Turkish vizier also fell in love with him and decided to flirt with him and bring him closer to him.
He began to court him, lure him, lie and flatter him, just so that the guy would accept the Turkish faith. But Markelya did not give in, dodged and, like an eel, slipped out of his hands.
Time passed, and Markel still refused to hang out and become the vizier’s confidant. Tom got tired of this, and he ordered the mullah to take Markel to the mosque and forcefully beat him there. And he said to the guy:
- Listen, you are such a pest, in three days they will take you to the mosque and torture you. If you don’t want to do it kindly, we’ll force you to do it, otherwise, head off.
The Turks tried their best to persuade and persuade Markel, but in vain. On the third day Markela comes to the vizier and says:
- Noble vizier! Last night I saw the Prophet Mohammed in a dream and spoke with him.
- What are you talking about! - says the vizier. “You see, infidel, I wish you well, I want to tease you, but you, a fool, refuse.”
“Noble vizier,” says Markel, “let me tell you everything in order that I saw in a dream as if in reality.” I see a large, wide field, so huge that you can’t even glance at it. In the middle of the field there is a tall, branchy pear tree, with thick shadow under it. Mohammed sits in the shadows on a golden carpet, covered in gold and precious stones, resting and smoking a pipe. He is served by two servants in rich clothes. They began to wave their hands at me from afar so that I would quickly approach their master. I hastened to approach Mohammed; I stand before him like a condemned man. I don’t say a word, and he doesn’t ask me anything. A little later a large crowd appeared in the field, like a church procession. People walked two in a row and carried banners. First, people moved in clothes as white as snow with white banners, then in gold clothes - with gold banners, in silver clothes - with silver banners, in red clothes - with red ones, in blue clothes - with blue ones, in yellow clothes - with yellow ones, in black clothes - with black ones, in brown clothes - with brown ones, in gray clothes - with gray ones, and, finally, in green clothes with green banners - countless people! And at the very end walked people in patched clothes. And patches of all colors. They dressed up as if they were jesters, and their banners were as colorful as woodpeckers: here - a little white, there - gold, and there silver, and red, and black, and blue, and brown, and gray!.. This whole crowd walked past the pear tree, then further across the field and disappeared into the distance.
I goggled my eyes - I don’t understand what it all means, I look at Mohammed, I want to ask what kind of crowd this is, but I don’t even dare open my mouth. I was simply dumbfounded. The Prophet shuddered and said:
- People in golden robes and with golden banners are my Turks. Christians in white and colored clothes; there are Catholics, Lutherans, Calvinists, Arians, Bogomils and others.
-Who is that in the motley patched rags? - I asked Mohammed.
“Yes, those who moved from one faith to another,” he answered.
- You see, noble sir! - Markel said to the vizier. - If, at your request, I hang out, it means that in the next world I will be among colorful people. Tell me in all honesty, can I want to hang out?
“Is it true, infidel, that you saw such a dream and heard the words of Mohammed?”
- True, noble vizier! God bless you with health and happiness, don’t drive me into the motley crowd.
- Listen, infidel! - says the vizier. - Great is Allah! You have seen a prophet. Go home, you are no longer a slave, you are free.
Markel, without hesitation, shouldered the sack, took a stick in his hands and, God willing, his legs from Turkish captivity. He arrived home safely and began to tell how he had deceived the vizier.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru