The fairy tale will be entertaining, listen to it carefully, those who open their ears well will learn a lot of things, and those who accidentally fall asleep will leave with nothing.
They say that once upon a time there lived a boyar named Marku Bogatey. His wealth was countless, so he lost count of it. He had many palaces, countless mansions, endless fields, and no matter what happened, whether it was a forest or a field, everything belonged to him. Herds of his horses, herds of oxen and cows and flocks of sheep grazed in the meadows and forest clearings.
So one day Mark Bogatey decided to throw a feast for the whole world, to call all the rich people and hold a council with them in order to find out whose estate is greater, whose treasury is richer.
They were waiting for guests in the palace, the tables were laden with food and wine: Mark Bogatey looked at them with his master's eye and ordered the guards who stood at the gate:
- If a noble boyar appears, let him quickly go to the table, but a poor man dares to come - posts and a crappy sash - then you, without sparing him, drive him away with batogs three necks long. That’s what I want, that’s why I pay you money.
Phaetons and carriages, which have no equal in the world, began to arrive, with bells, bells, and noble riders - you could hear three miles away - the boyars were coming!
In the evening, when day and night mingled, and the boyars' feasts flared up, an old man in rags, so ancient and tired, approached the gate that he was rocked by the wind.
- Get back, old man! - the guards shouted as soon as they saw him.
“Let me pass, maybe the boyar will give me something.”
- Go back, old brat, don’t come to the gate if life is precious.
The old man saw that the jokes were bad, he lowered his head and turned back. He turned onto the road to a nearby village, soon approached the last hut and knocked on the door to ask for shelter for the night. The hostess came out to his doorstep.
- Good evening, hostess!
- Good evening.
“Won’t you let me into the house to spend the night?”
- With dear soul. Just don’t blame me: my hut is full of children, little by little, I have nothing to feed or clothe them with. At night I cover them with a skirt and a scarf, protecting them from the cold.
“Well, it’s no big deal, I’ll lie down behind the stove if I bother you in the dark.”
- You're welcome, what a worry there is.
In the hut, in the light of a torch, the old man seemed very strange to her; he looked more like a sorcerer than a man.
The traveler lay down behind the stove and, being very tired from the journey, immediately began to snore. The hostess also lay down and soon fell asleep too.
Suddenly at midnight she hears: tsk, tsk, tsk! - someone knocks on the window.
She looked and saw: a sparkling star had flown from the sky and whispered to the old man:
Ancient Soothsayer, Noble Sorcerer, You know, oh no:
A new man has been born!
What does this age promise for him?
And the old man answers from behind the stove:
- Hey, poor fellow, he will beg for grief, bend his back for seven and that’s all
no use. Evil need will press him, he will drink bitterly, and until his death he will have no other shelter or shelter except the tavern. The hostess pretended to be asleep, but she saw everything, heard everything and was trembling all over with fear, tooth to tooth.
Soon she hears again: clop, clop, clop! - out the window. This other star has arrived and also says:
Ancient Soothsayer, Noble sorcerer, You know, oh no: A new man was born! What does this age promise for him?
- Hey, poor fellow, his lot is hard. He will be honest all his life, like a good scale, but in this dishonest world, an honest person only gets scolding and beatings when he stands for a just cause. They will put him in shackles and drag him through the dungeons until his death.
At dawn, a star knocked on the window, even larger and more beautiful than before, and asked:
Ancient Soothsayer, Noble sorcerer, You know, oh no: A new man was born! What does this age promise for him?
“This one will get all the goods of Mark Bogatea,” answered the old man, turned over on his other side and fell asleep.
The next morning, the old man thanked the hostess for her hospitality and set off on a journey, only he knows where. And the hostess was left with her need and her grief. As soon as the sun rose, she went to Mark Rich for corvée
work off. From the time she was born, all she knew was to bend her back from dawn to dark; she felt both salty and bitter until she got a crust of stale bread.
She appeared at the boyar's court, and there the feast stood like a mountain, the sky split from the songs. Mark went out into the courtyard, and the woman, when she saw him, remembered the words of the night guest and shouted:
- Boyar Marku, boyar Marku!
The boyar furrowed his eyebrows and attacked her with abuse:
- What do you want? If you ask for food again, the grave worms will eat you! If you say something, speak up, but if you decide to beg, get out of my sight!
- Boyar Mark, I want to tell you: this night some wanderer spent the night with me, I don’t know where he came from or where he was going. He seemed strange to me somehow, either a man or a sorcerer. And apparently he is a great prophet. At night, as soon as a child was born, a star immediately knocked on the window and tortured him about the fate of the baby. He predicted to one that he would become a bitter drunkard, to another - that the penal servitude would cry for him. And in the morning the third baby was born and the wanderer predicted that he would become the owner of all your goods.
- Ha-ha-ha! What wonderful dreams you have at night.
- Boyar Mark, I heard everything with my own ears. He scratched the back of Mark’s head, as if a mosquito had bitten him, adjusted the sash on his bulging belly, like a barrel, waved his hand to the woman: get down to business, and he went to the mansion. The feast flared up even more. There was a mountain of food on the tables, wine flowed like a river, Markou raised his glasses and shouted in a drunken stupor: gay, gop, goal, gop!
The boyars finished feasting only on the second day in the evening, and Mark accompanied all the sons of the boyars on their way. But, as they say: the water goes away, the stones remain. So the frenzy of the feast passed, and the words of the poor woman sank into his heart, giving him no peace day or night. Mark Bogaty walked around like a gloomy cloud and finally decided to go to the midwife and ask who in the area gave birth to a son on such and such a night at such and such an hour. Who else, if not the midwife, knows who was born when?
- On such and such a night, at such an hour, the wife of Jonah the Poor gave birth to a son. Poor woman, this is her thirteenth child, and there is such need in the house, such poverty that it is pitiful to look at them.
The boyar, without hesitation, ordered the horses to be driven and stopped the carriage in front of the hut of Ion the Poor.
- Good day, poor fellow!
- Good afternoon, boyar!
- May, Ion, I heard that your wife gave birth to a son.
“That’s right, boyar, my wife gave birth to her thirteenth child.” My family is great, and my need is even greater.
- May Ion, give it to me. I don’t have any children of my own, so I’ll raise him and he’ll be my support in my old age. And you are greatly honored by this.
“I don’t know what else my wife will say.”
They called my wife, and when she heard what it was about, she burst into tears.
- Oh, boyar, I have thirteen children and we live in such poverty that we can barely have a soul in our body. But still I can’t give you the child, my heart aches for him.
- Come on, woman! He will live with me in a hall and in warmth, and well-fed, and shod, and dressed. And when he grows up, I will send him to study and he will become one of the first people in the kingdom-state.
Bogatey sang so sweetly to Mark, promising everything: to put shoes on, to clothe their son, to send him to school, to bring him into the people, that in the end he touched the hearts of the poor, and they sold him the baby for three wallets of money.
Mark Bogatey took the child in his arms, began to rock and cradle him with feigned love, got into the carriage with him and went home.
He drives and thinks: how to solve this baby of life. He decided to strangle him, but he became scared. Then the carriage passed through the forest, and the boyar decided to throw the child into the thickets, in case some wild animal would stumble upon him and tear him to pieces. As he decided, he did so: he threw the child under a tall, thick poplar, and he got into the carriage and rode happily home. Now, the boyar thought, he would get rid of heavy thoughts and bitter doubts.
And behind them rode Marku Bogatea’s farmhands, carrying firewood to his yard. It so happened that one of the drivers lost his whip, and the oxen, sensing the will, began to lean towards the grass every now and then, lose their way and almost overturned the cart. The farmhand saw that things were bad, stopped the oxen, took an ax and went into the thicket to find a good rod so that he would have something to drive the cattle with. He searched and searched until he reached a tall, thick poplar tree, under which he saw an abandoned baby. He took the child in his arms and looked around to see if there was anyone nearby—not a living soul. What to do? He carried the boy to the cart. The rest of the farmhands gathered around him and were all wondering: who could throw a child into a thicket with a fishing line? So no one figured out the truth, and the one who found the baby was very happy: he lived with his wife for thirty years and she did not give him a child. And so he looked sweetly at the foundling, smiled so tenderly at the hedgehog and pressed it to his chest, as if he were holding pure gold in his hands.
- Look, May, how happy this fool is. “It’s as if someone gave him half the world,” one of the farmhands remarked.
“How can he not rejoice when he holds the support of his old age in his hands,” answered the other.
“You never know under what bush a person’s happiness is watching,” said some joker and, lashing the bulls with a whip, he jumped onto the cart.
- Gay, gay! Tsob, tsob! — the carts moved on. Arriving at the farmstead, the farmhands unloaded the firewood and began to wait to see what work the owner would give them the next day. Mark Bogatey himself had to assign work to them, since the clerk had gone somewhere on business. The farmhands have gathered, they are listening to the owner, and the one who found the child keeps coming to the window and looking at the cart. Seeing such a thing, the boyar asks him:
“May, what have you found there, you can’t find a place for yourself, you’re staring all your eyes out the window.”
“Hey, boyar, what he found there will be a good find in his life,” said one of the farmhands.
- What did he find? - The boyar's eyes bulged.
- He found the boy in such and such a place.
This news stabbed the boyar in the very heart, but he didn’t even show it, but turned things around very cunningly:
- Ugh, beat your luck, you didn’t even look for it, but you found it, but I’ve already lost my footing and I can’t find a foster child for myself. Sell it to me, May, I don't have any boyfriends.
- How can I sell it when I don’t have it myself?
- That means you won’t sell?! He would have been yours, no matter what, but why should you regret and grieve about the foundling? Well, sell it, I'll give you a good price. It’s better not to mess with the boyar one-on-one - immediately
will strangle. Reluctantly, the poor man took the money and gave the baby away. Again Marku Bogatey began to think, and wondered this way and that: how to end the boy, kill him from the world. All sorts of thoughts came into his head, each more terrible than the other. That’s the way a moneybag thinks: don’t expect good from her, but she’s generous with evil. Finally, he decided to put the boy in a barrel, fill the hoops tighter, and send him down the river. On the same day he fulfilled his plan. The wind drove the barrel from the shore to the middle of the river, the fast waves picked it up and carried it, and the boyar, with a heart filled with anger, sent a curse after him:
“Here, go to hell, roll with your head down, and when this water turns back, then you too will come back.”
Then Mark Bogatey got into the carriage and returned home with joy in his soul.
The barrel sways on the waves, hits the shore, floats day and night away from the boyar. In one place, near a bend in the river, it got caught on some snags and landed on the shore. And not far from this place there was a fulling factory on the shore where sumans were made. Soon two fullers approached the shore to take water and came across a barrel. One, two - they pulled him out of the water. Feeling that the barrel was not empty, they carefully began to loosen the hoops. Imagine their surprise when they discovered a nice, plump little boy in the barrel. They took the child and ran to the fulling shop. The masters cared for him, undead, and when he grew up, they began to teach him the skill. The guy turned out to be smart, he grabbed everything on the fly and memorized it firmly. He worked all day long in the workshop and soon not only learned everything that the old masters knew, but also far surpassed them and began to produce cloth of any type and any width. Not much time passed, and a rumor spread around the world that in such and such a fulling mill they were making cloth that had never been seen before.
People poured in, some on horseback, some on foot - everyone wanted to get their hands on at least a piece of rare cloth. Here and there, rumors about the unusual cloth reached Mark Bogatei. One fine day he ordered six horses to be put into a carriage in a train, new harnesses to be put on them and bells attached, the best coachman to be seated on the box, and when everything was ready,
moved to the vaunted fulling shop with pockets full of money - to buy cloth and felt, better and more. Mark Bogatey arrived at the cloth shop and was greeted with honor, the path was cleared for him right up to the threshold, he was escorted to the elder, he was seated at the table, he was treated to a plate of food, as it was fitting to treat rich boyars. Word by word, we started talking about cloth and fulling mill.
- Where did you find such noble craftsmen? – Bogatey asked Mark.
- This noble master came to us himself.
— Apparently, from overseas countries?
- No, boyar, listen. It'll be twenty years ago, let's go one day
two fullers on the water. Lo and behold, the waves washed some kind of barrel to the shore. They pulled the barrel out of the water, knocked down the hoops and found a baby in diapers in it. It was as if someone had scalded the boyar with boiling water; he could barely restrain himself, gritting his teeth so as not to reveal how his heart was burning.
“So we raised him, taught him, and he is so dexterous and so smart that since he started working, our cloth has become famous all over the world.
- Apparently, he studied a lot, comprehended book wisdom and also knows a lot about judicial affairs? - Bogatey asked Mark.
“That’s right, boyar, he knows a lot of things,” the masters confirmed.
“And I’m just having problems with my estate.” Could he go and sort things out there? And, if there is time, let her teach my daughter all the wisdom of books, otherwise she has so far come across completely useless teachers.
- Well, it's possible. The fulling shop can now do without him, everything is in order. Should I call him?
- Yes, call me.
While the craftsmen were looking for the young man to tell him about the boyar’s desire, Mark Bogatey quickly scribbled a letter: “Boyar-madam, when this young man comes to you with a letter, order him to be shackled. Then they order him to bring nine carts of firewood, make a fire out of them, and burn the guy on that fire and scatter his ashes to the wind, so that neither his name nor a trace remains in the world.” I signed the letter: Mark Bogatey. Just then the young man approached the table.
“This is how it is,” the masters explained to him. “Go to the court of Mark Bogateya.”
“Okay, I’m ready,” the guy answered.
The boyar handed him a letter and gave him this farewell:
- Take this as a sign that I sent you. When you arrive, give my noblewoman the letter and let her read it. Tell me that I will still be delayed a little because of the cloth and for all sorts of other matters, but I will try to return home as soon as possible. The guy hid the letter in his bosom and set off on his way. He walked and walked and
Then one day, passing by the edge of the forest, he sees a bear crawling into a hollow and stealing honey from the bees. Dozens of bees fall dead, leaving their stings in his skin, and the bear grumbles and breaks the tree, climbing deeper into the hollow. Seeing the traveler, one bee flew up to him and said in a human voice:
- Good man, save us from this misfortune, drive away the bear. Your work will not be in vain, and we will serve you in some way, and if you get into trouble, we will help you out of trouble.
The traveler broke a thick oak branch, quickly cut out a heavy club from it and went to walk with it on the head of the clubfoot. The bear sees: this is bad, there’s no time for fat here, if only I were alive, he grabbed his legs onto his shoulders and - remember what his name was!
Tired of the fight with the bear and the long road, the young man lay down in the shade of the tree tree, and immediately sleep overcame him. And among the bees there was one magical one, and she knew what was planned and how it would end. Well, since the guy did good to the bee tribe, she decided to serve him well and help him out of difficult troubles. She quietly pulled out the guy’s letter from his bosom, and instead put another: “Boyarina-madam, when this young man comes to you, tell him to take him to the bathhouse, give him the best dress and have a wedding with my daughter, and protect him from all evil more than the apple of your eye.” At the bottom was the signature: Mark Bogatey, exactly like the boyar’s.
The traveler did not rest for long, woke up, the bees thanked him for his help, saw him off on his way, but did not say a word about the letter. After several days of travel, the young man arrived at the boyar’s court, showed the letter to the servants, and they bowed him to the boyar. To celebrate, she immediately ordered all sorts of food and wine to be prepared, musicians to be invited, and a boyar wedding to be played. They started such a wedding, and spent a whole week feasting and partying.
The noise of the wedding feast subsided, and a few days later Mark Bogatey returned home in a carriage. When he learned the unexpected news, he began to tear out his hair and almost burst out of anger.
- What have you done? - he attacked his wife and daughter.
“As you ordered in the letter, that’s what we did.”
- What did I tell you in the letter?
- Look at this for yourself.
When Mark Bogatey saw the letter and even his signature, fear pierced him to the marrow of his bones: there was no way, this guy was really destined to lay a hand on his property. And again Mark Bogatey began to think about what to do to drive his son-in-law away from the world. Finally the thought dawned on him: to send the young man to the next world to his late mother for the boyar’s signet ring. The next morning he called his son-in-law to his place and said to him in a quiet voice, but full of menace:
- I lost my boyar seal, but I don’t have another and no one can make one.
she can't. While I had it, it never occurred to me to take even a cast. Well, fortunately for us there is another such seal.
- Where, father?
- In the next world. My mother, which means your grandmother, wears on her finger a gold ring with the signet of our family. Go to her and take the ring. Yes, remember, if you return empty-handed, your head should be where your feet are now.
The guy took food for the road, a little money and set off on the journey with faith and hope of returning back, having obtained a ring with the boyar’s signet. Whether it was long or short, he walked a good part of the way until one day at noon he reached some pond. The closer he came to the pond, the more clearly he heard strange sounds: as if someone was muttering something and slurping in vain.
“Good man, come to me,” a voice suddenly came to him from the very middle of the pond.
The traveler took a closer look and was petrified with horror. A man floated on the water with his lips burnt from thirst and could not bend down to drink water.
-What happened to you? - the young man asked him.
“A heavy curse has fallen on my head. Where are you going?
“I’m going to the other world to take my grandmother’s signet ring.”
“Since you’re going there, ask about me: how long will I have to suffer like this?”
- Okay, when I get there, I won’t forget about you. Mark's son-in-law went
Getting richer, he walked and walked and came across two barrels. From one the wine was pouring over the edge, and the second was completely empty, even the rivets had dried out. The guy looked and thought: “Who did such a thing, poured so much wine into one barrel that it was pouring over the edge, and the other was drying up in the sun?” He picked up the full barrel, turned it upside down over the empty one, shook and shook, but not a drop of wine poured into the empty barrel.
“Ugh, attack, what kind of joke is this?” - thought the young man and went his way. He walked, walked tirelessly, until he reached a ravine. The ravine is like a ravine, but only at its very bottom lies its butt on its back. And that priest was so emaciated that he seemed only the shadow of a man: his cheekbones stuck out, his eyes sunken, and he kept shouting in a hoarse voice: “Eat, eat!” Every time he parted his lips, a terrible snake fell out of his mouth: it fluttered once or twice in the wild and returned to his mouth again. The young man thought to approach the priest, but evil poisonous snakes blocked his way. Frightened by what he saw, the traveler retreated and went on his way. Soon he came out into a large meadow, all strewn with flowers. In the middle of the meadow there was a table, overflowing with all sorts of food and drinks, and around the table sat people, all so pale and thin that they didn’t even look like people. Their hands were tied to huge ladles, but no matter how they wriggled, the poor fellows, they could not bring the food to their mouths. It was terrible torture! Everyone was grinding their teeth from hunger, their eyes were burning, there were wonderful dishes all around, but they couldn’t take a crumb into their mouths! Having learned where the young wanderer was heading, they began to ask him:
- Do me a favor, when you reach Beelzebub the Ancient, find out from him how much longer will we endure this torture: sitting hungry in front of a set table?
“Okay, I won’t forget to ask about you,” Mark’s son-in-law Bogatea promised them and went on his way.
He walked for a long time, didn’t he, but he reached a fortress with high walls, black as pitch. A soldier stood guard at the iron gate with a club on his shoulder and a saber at his side.
- Why are you guarding here with such weapons?
“I’ve been standing guard at these gates for hundreds of years, I can’t wait for a change.” Where are you going?
“I’m going to the other world to look for a gold ring.”
- If so, do me a favor and ask about me there: how long will you have to hang around here?
- Okay, I'll ask.
Soon our guy reached the castle, also black as pitch. Apparently, here was the office of hell and a gathering place for devils. He found only the old devil there. She was so bored with loneliness that when she saw the guy, she groaned:
- Oh, oh, woe is me and woe again! But, apparently, I still have a bit of happiness, since I managed to see an earthly man.
She sat the guy down on a bench and began asking where he was from and on what business he had come from distant places into this world of sadness. Having learned what need drove him on his journey, the old woman said to him:
- Wait here until midnight, until Beelzebub the Ancient appears, the most important Satan, to whom the power to do evil is given. I’ll ask him about everything you want to know. At midnight the Ancient Beelzebub appeared, barely dragging his feet from fatigue: he did a lot of troubles to people that day. The old devil hid the earthly creature well, and she herself pretended to be seriously ill, fell to the floor and groaned as if her last hour had come.
- What happened to you? - Beelzebub asked as he entered. - Maybe someone offended you or some kind of illness overcame you?
“I fell ill from grief and annoyance that you still won’t bring me the ring to Mark Bogatea.” You might as well have a stake on your head, no matter how many times I told you, everything goes in one ear and out the other.
“Is it really worth grieving so much over a trifle?” I would go right now for the ring, but it’s a long way to go, all the way to the Heel of Hell. I'll definitely bring it tomorrow night. It’s good that you reminded me, otherwise I run around all day long like crazy and forget everything in the world.
- Oh, oh, horned Beelzebub! How many centuries have I been grieving here, and I still don’t know what’s what in this hellish kingdom.
-What don’t you know?
“How many times have I been to the Salty Pond in the stone gorge, and you never told me who that man is who sits in the water day and night and can’t take a drop into his mouth?”
“He was very rich on earth.”
“And what did he do that he was sentenced to such an execution?”
“He lived in abundance, drank in food and wine like butter in sour cream, and mercilessly flogged his faithful servants for nothing, locked them up when it was cold and did not give them anything to eat or drink for whole days. Today it’s time for him to find out what a pound of dashing is, to experience the fire of thirst.
- How long will he suffer like this?
- Forever and ever.
- What are these two barrels on Zheltaya Niva? Wine pours out of one over the edge, and the second dries up in the sun?
- This means that there are poor and rich on earth. Some have so much wealth that they have nowhere to put it, while others survive on bread and water, spending their entire lives in grief.
- Why, when someone tries to pour wine from a full barrel into an empty one, not a drop comes out?
“Because the well-fed cannot understand the hungry, and no matter how much the poor cry to the rich for help, they will receive nothing.” A moneybag is more likely to beat the soul out of a poor man than a poor man is to beat out a penny from him.
- And who is that priest who lies in Wormwood Ravine, neither alive nor dead from hunger?
and everyone shouts: “eat, eat!” - This is priest Kalach, who rode on the earth to the hump of the poor, spent his whole life skinning the living and the dead, and now he himself is experiencing what it was like for those from whom he tore a piece out of their mouths.
- Why does he have a snake in his mouth?
- Because he was a foul-mouthed and liar. On earth he had not a human tongue, but a snake tongue, and that is how it remains now.
- How long will he suffer like this?
- Forever and ever.
- Tell me again, for what sins are people executed in this way on the Hungry Meadow and die of hunger and thirst, sitting at a table that is bursting with food and drinks!
“They are executed because it never occurs to anyone to feed their neighbor so that their neighbor will feed him.” Only then is life worth anything when people help each other.
-Who is the man who stands guard at the gates of hell?
- This is also a former moneybag who did a lot of evil while living on earth. In three or four days I will transfer him to another torture, and Mark Bogatey will take his place.
The next night Beelzebub the Ancient brought the ring
with the signet of Mark Bogatea. The young man took it and set off on his way back.
Soon he reached the gates of hell. The guard saw him from afar and shouted:
- What did you find out about me, how long will I stay here?
- In three or four days he will replace you Mark Bogatey, a little later he reached the Hungry Meadow, where the hungry and thirsty were waiting for him with open mouths.
- Good fellow, what did Satan say about our fate?
- Good people, as long as each of you thinks only about his own belly, you will
you suffer from hunger and thirst. Get full ladles and feed each other, otherwise you won’t survive.
From that moment they began to feed each other: whoever fed better was also fed better, whoever was too lazy to take a full ladle also got less. New dishes and drinks appeared on the tables endlessly, and they lived like brothers, forgetting about the pangs of hunger and thirst.
And our young man went his way and soon reached the lake, where the boyar was languishing with thirst.
- What news did you bring me?
- Sad, boyar. I heard that your torment will be eternal as punishment for the injustices that you inflicted on people on earth.
The young man went further, he walked and walked and finally came home. When Mark Bogatey saw that his son-in-law had returned home alive, healthy, and even brought a signet ring, he almost burst from frustration and fear. There was nothing to complain about, so he began to ask his son-in-law where he had been and what he had seen.
“Hey, you know how it is on the road,” answered the son-in-law. “There’s a lot of stuff.”
you will see and hear all sorts of things. At the gates of hell I saw a guard with a club on his shoulder and a saber at his side; he is waiting for you to replace him.
- I?!
- That's what he said.
“No one in my family has ever served as a guard.” They only found me?.. And where to stand - at the gates of hell!.. I’ll go and see for myself, and if it’s a lie, if you wanted to laugh at me, you won’t escape the noose. Mark the Rich got ready for the journey and followed in the footsteps of his son-in-law. He began to approach the gates of hell, and the guard shouted from afar:
- Stop, may, stop! Who are you and where are you going?
- I'm Mark Bogatey.
- If so, come here.
Mark approached, and the guard said to him:
- Here, hold the club, the saber, my clothes and shoes.
Before Mark Bogatey had time to figure out what was the matter, the guard thrust everything into his hands and was gone. Clothes were put on him, belts were belted; I smelled Mark—it was burning my heels, I jumped up and found myself in boots. In an instant he was dressed, shod, armed to the teeth and nailed to the spot. For many years in a row he guarded the gates of hell, never closing his eyes day or night, and perhaps he is still guarding now, if no one else has replaced him.
And the son of Jonah the Poor, having taken possession of all the property of Mark the Rich, divided it
with his brothers and all the other poor people.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru