Once upon a time there lived a king, and he had a goat, a lamb, a ram and a red, steep-horned cow. The king was very proud of his flock. A goat, a lamb, a ram and a steep-horned cow grazed in the royal garden, and the king fed them every morning from his own hands.
Everything would be fine if it weren’t for the ladies of the court. They raised a piercing squeal at the sight of a cow, and they kissed and squeezed the lamb so much that it began to wither from these tendernesses.
The king did not know what to do. Then the chief minister advised sending the herd to mountain pasture.
“That would be nice,” the king agreed. - But where can I find a shepherd whom I would trust more than my ministers? You are always before my eyes, and the shepherd wanders through the mountains day and night.
We began to look for the right person. Messengers were sent in all directions. They searched far, but found it close: right next to the city wall lived a peasant, more honest than anyone in the world. This man never lied in his life; he spoke only the truth. He was nicknamed the master of truth - Massaro Pravda.
The king called him to him and entrusted him with his favorite cattle.
“Every Saturday,” he said to the shepherd, “you must come to the palace and report how things are going.”
And so it happened. Every Saturday, Massaro Pravda came down from the mountains, entered the royal chambers, took off his felt hat and bowed deeply.
- Hello, Your Royal Majesty!
– Great, Massaro True! How is my goat doing?
- Fresh as a rose.
- Well, what about my lamb?
- He frolics like a child.
- Tell me about the lamb quickly.
- The lamb blooms like a daisy.
- And my favorite cow?
- She’s quite healthy!
The king nodded his head graciously, and Massaro Pravda returned again to the herd.
Previously, the king had no one to compare his ministers with. And now he noticed every now and then that the ministers, no, no, would lie. Therefore, the king was dissatisfied with his ministers, and they, of course, were dissatisfied with the royal shepherd. And then one day the chief minister said to the king: “Do you really think, Your Majesty, that Massaro Pravda always tells the truth?” There are no such people in the world.
- Well, no! - exclaimed the king. “I’m ready to bet his head that he will never lie.”
“And I’m ready to bet my head,” the chief minister shouted in anger, “that on the very first Saturday he will deceive you!”
“Okay,” said the king, “if he deceives, I will order the shepherd’s head to be cut off, and if he does not deceive, the executioner will cut off your head.” The minister bit his tongue, but it was too late. He began to think about how to force Massaro Pravda to tell a lie. But the more I thought, the less I could come up with. There were only three days left until Saturday, and the minister felt that his head did not rest so firmly on his shoulders. On Thursday morning, the minister’s wife asked her husband: “What happened to you, why are you so concerned?”
“Leave me alone,” the husband grumbled. The only thing missing is that I consult with my wife about government affairs.
But if a woman is overcome by curiosity, she will not calm down until she finds out everything she needs. Not even an hour had passed before the chief minister told his wife about the dispute with the king.
- That's all!? - said the wife. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your head is intact.”
And she began to dress up. She put on a satin dress with lace, a pearl necklace around her neck, bracelets on her wrists, and rings on her fingers. Then she got into the carriage and went to the mountains. I reached a mountain pasture and saw Massaro Pravda with the royal herd.
Then she got out of the carriage and waved a lace scarf at him. The shepherd gaped - he had never seen such dressed and beautiful ladies.
“Oh, how good it is here,” the minister’s wife spoke in the most tender voice, “so good that I’m ready to kiss everyone in the world with joy.”
“Then kiss me, your radiance.” I will give anything for one of your kisses.
- Give me this goat. I've wanted to have one for a long time.
“Eh,” said Massaro Pravda, “that’s what I can’t do!” Ask for something different.
- Well, then the lamb.
“Let’s agree, your dazzlingness,” said Massaro Pravda, “I will give everything except the goat, lamb, ram and red cow.” The cattle are not mine, so there is no need to talk about it.
- Well, so what! “You never know in the mountains there are steep cliffs and deep gorges,” the minister’s wife began to persuade him. “The lamb can always stumble.”
“So he didn’t stumble,” objected the puzzled Massaro.
“But you can tell this to the owner.” But I will add all my rings to the kiss.
Massaro shook his head.
In vain the lady took off her rings, bracelets, brooches, buckles, and in the end even her pearl necklace. The shepherd didn’t even want to look at all this. The angry lady got into the carriage and drove off.
At home she told her husband:
- Well, this shepherd is stubborn. The minister grabbed his head and groaned.
“Don’t worry about your head,” said the wife. “All is not lost.” You should know for yourself: if I want something, it will be my way.
The next morning, the chief minister's wife dressed in rags and ran to the mountain pasture.
- Woe is me, woe! – she began to lament when she saw the shepherd.
“What’s the matter with you, good woman?” – Massaro Pravda asked sympathetically.
“My only son, my white flower, is dying. The doctor said that he needs to drink fresh milk morning and evening for a whole year. And I am so poor that I can only give him plenty of water.
And she sobbed even louder.
Here Massaro Pravda’s heart could not stand it.
- So be it, I’ll give you the royal favorite - the red cow.
- Thank you, shepherd! – the woman exclaimed. - Yes, listen to my advice, tell the king...
“Don’t worry,” the shepherd responded. “I’ll figure out what to tell the king myself.”
Returning home, the minister’s wife announced to her husband:
- It's done. Your head now sits firmly on your shoulders. But no one will give even a soldo for the head of a foolish shepherd.
“But you have the smartest head, dear wife, she should be a ministerial head,” said the chief minister, kissing his wife. “Now I’ll take the cow to the palace and let’s see what the shepherd will say to the king tomorrow.”
Meanwhile, Massaro Pravda sat on a stone and thought what he would say to the king tomorrow. He took a shepherd's crook, stuck it in the ground, threw a cloak over it, and pulled his felt hat on top. Then he bowed deeply to the staff.
- Hello, Your Majesty! - he said to the staff.
“Great, Massaro True,” he answered for the king.
- How is my goat doing?
- Fresh as a rose.
- Well, what about my lamb?
- He frolics like a child.
- Tell me about the lamb quickly.
- The lamb blooms like a daisy.
- And my favorite cow?
- Cow. . . Cow. Eh, I’ll tell you, Your Royal Majesty, a cow fell... a cow fell, I say, from a high cliff. No, that's not it...
Massaro Pravda pulled the staff out of the ground and stuck it in another place. Then he walked back three steps and started all over again.
- Hello, Your Royal Majesty!
Until the speech reached the cow, everything went smoothly. But only the shepherd asked himself in a royal voice:
- And my favorite cow? - as his tongue began to tangle:
- Wolves... she was eaten by wolves... No, that’s not it again.
He took the staff again and stuck it into the third place. But that didn't help either. The words didn't fit either way.
In the end, Massaro Pravda tore the cloak off the staff, wrapped himself in it more tightly and went to bed.
And when Massaro opened his eyes, Saturday morning had already arrived and it was time to go to the king. He walked quickly, but by noon he had not yet reached half the road. And all because he stopped in front of every tree, bowed and spoke to the king. But nothing came of the conversation, and Massaro went to the next tree. And suddenly, at the twentieth tree, the shepherd came up with a wonderful answer. He immediately became cheerful and ran down the mountain so hard that the pebbles he touched with his feet did not have time to catch up with him.
Meanwhile, the king, surrounded by courtiers, had been waiting for the shepherd for a long time. So Massaro Pravda entered the palace, took off his felt hat, bowed and said:
- Hello, Your Royal Majesty!
- Great, Massaro True. How is my goat doing?
- Fresh as a rose.
- Well, what about my lamb?
- He frolics like a child.
- Tell me quickly about the steering wheel.
- The lamb blooms like a daisy.
- And my favorite cow? – the king asked and winked at the chief minister.
Then the shepherd said what the dear one had come up with:
- Eh, your royal majesty, you no longer have a cow. Execute me or have mercy, but I gave it to one woman. I listened to the poor thing, and decided that she needed the cow more than you. And this is the honest truth.
The king clapped his hands, followed by all the courtiers. One chief minister did not clap. After all, he lost his own head, and it’s hard to rejoice at that.
The king told the shepherd everything and added at the end:
“Because you were not afraid of the royal wrath, you can ask for a royal reward.”
“Well,” replied Massaro, “I’ll ask.” Leave the chief minister's head where it is, on his shoulders.
“I’ll have to leave it, since I promised you,” answered the king. “But explain to me why you are asking for him.”
“Very simple,” said the shepherd. – For how many years they have been calling me Massaro the Truth. However, it is easy to tell the truth if you don’t have to lie. So I didn’t know whether this nickname was fair or not. And now, thanks to your chief minister, I know for sure that I really am Massaro The truth.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru