Sir Michael Scott of Bulwerie was the greatest magician, or, as they say, wizard, that Scotland has ever known.
They say that his faithful servants were the spirits of the underworld, and one of them was given to Scott by Satan himself in exchange for his shadow. And from then on, Sir Michael really stopped casting a shadow.
Even Sir Michael's black horse was not simple, but magical.
It happened one day that King Alexander III of Scotland sent Sir Michael to the court of the French king with an important assignment: to achieve some concessions that the King of France did not want to agree to.
“I would advise your Majesty to reconsider your demands,” Sir Michael said sternly to the French king.
But the King of France knew nothing of the great power of Sir Michael Scott, and was not in the least afraid of the threat in his voice. He just shook his head.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to think until my black horse hits his hoof three times at the gates of your castle,” said Sir Michael.
The king and his entourage burst out laughing at the words of this overseas upstart. However, their laughter was drowned out by a loud echo - it was Sir Michael’s black horse who hit the stone pavement in front of the castle gates with his hoof.
And immediately, in response, bells rang throughout France. The large bells thumped loudly, the small ones chimed subtly. Honest people, awakened by the ringing of the bells, jumped up from their beds, the highwaymen all hid, and the feasters, who had not had time to sip the wine, stood frozen with goblets in their hands. Even birds fell from their nests. All conversations in the country fell silent: it was impossible to hear a word in such ringing and roar.
The bells stopped ringing only when Sir Michael's black horse struck the stone pavement with its hoof for the second time.
The second blow hit the high towers of the royal castle.
- Enough! - cried the king, - I changed my mind! Tell your master that I agree to everything.
In response, Sir Michael bowed low to the French king to hide the triumphant smile on his lips.
Needless to say, King Alexander had every reason to be a thousand and thousand times grateful to his envoy.
And in general, it was better not to anger Sir Michael Scott. He knew how to cause great trouble to those who in any way annoyed him or aroused his anger, as the wife of one farmer once learned from her own experience.
It happened one day that, while hunting in the forest, Sir Michael suddenly felt very hungry and, seeing a farmer’s hut not far away, sent his servant to ask for a piece of bread for himself.
The servant knocked on the door and, when the mistress opened it, asked her for a loaf of bread for his master.
“I don’t have bread,” the farmer answered rudely. The servant sniffed and clearly heard the smell of fresh bread, and looking through the door, he saw a flaming hearth and iron pans on which bread was being baked.
With this he returned to Sir Michael.
“The landlady says she has no bread,” he said, “but she’s not telling the truth.” When she opened the door for me, I immediately smelled the smell of fresh bread.
Sir Michael Scott was very angry about this message. He pulled a knuckle out of his pocket, or, as they also call it in those parts, a devil's finger, and ordered his servant to return to the hut and quietly hide this thing in the crack behind the door lintel.
Before the servant had time to carry out his master’s order, the magic spell had already begun to take effect. Just at that moment the farmer’s wife was leaning over the fireplace to take the last loaves of bread off the fire, and suddenly, for no apparent reason, she had a terrible desire to dance. She spun around the kitchen, stamping her feet and spreading her arms, and at the same time began to sing:
What did Sir Michael's servant come with?
With that he left, with that he left...
And the farmer’s husband had been working in the field since the morning. And so he thought: why is it that his wife is taking so long to bring him lunch? It was the hottest time - harvesting, the farmer was tired and hungry. His daughter had long ago brought a jug of beer and bread to his assistant, but the farmer’s wife still didn’t come. And the farmer asked the girl to look at his wife on the way back home and remind him about lunch.
The girl returned to the village and knocked on the door of the farmer's hut, but no one answered her, although she heard noise and stomping there. Apparently, the farmer's wife was in high spirits, because she cheerfully sang at the top of her voice.
- Listen, mistress! - the girl shouted. “Your husband asked to know if you forgot about lunch.” And he ordered you to quickly carry it to the field!
The noise and singing in the hut continued, but the girl did not receive an answer. So she opened the door herself and entered the kitchen. No sooner had she crossed the threshold of the hut than she, too, was overcome by the desire to dance, and she and the farmer's wife began to spin in the stormy Scottish fleen.
An hour passed, but the farmer did not wait for either the girl with any news or his wife with lunch and decided to go himself to find out what had happened. Approaching the house, he did not immediately enter the kitchen, but first looked out the window.
What did he see?
His wife and girlfriend were jumping around the kitchen like crazy.
- Stop fooling around! - the farmer shouted. -Where is my lunch? Now is not the time to have fun.
He opened the door angrily and stepped into the kitchen. But before he had time to come to his senses, he was already dancing along with two women, trying only to keep up with them and not lose time. Thus, instead of a solo and then a duet, a stormy trio was now dancing in the hut.
The inhospitable farmer's voice continued to sing in a hoarse voice:
What did Sir Michael's servant come with?
With that he left, with that he left...
All that day Sir Michael Scott hunted in the forest, and when dusk fell, the servant reminded him:
“I wonder how she dances there, that farmer’s lady?”
- You probably wanted to say how they dance there, this glorious trinity? - corrected Sir Michael, who had his own way of finding out where things were being done. “Well, I think she already got hers.” Now you can go back and take your damn finger out from behind the door frame.
The servant did everything exactly, pulled the damn finger out from behind the lintel, and the dancing trio immediately fell exhausted to the floor and slept, some say for seven days, and others for a whole week.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru