Like many others in the world, there was a gentleman and lady. They
were very well off, but they could not keep any of their children. They
had had ever so many, and all died. The lady was again in a hopeful
condition. At the beginning of the night she was confined of a
fine boy.
Two young men heard this news, and they said to each other:
"We ought to have a feast; we must steal a sheep out of this
house. They will not pay attention to us with all their bustle and
their joy."
One of the lads then goes after eleven o'clock towards the house. He
meets an old woman, who said to him:
"Where are you off to, lad? There is nothing like the truth."
"I was going, then, to such a house; the lady has been confined,
and I wish to take advantage of it to steal a sheep. They will not
pay any attention to-day. And you, where are you going?"
"I too am going to the house. I am a witch, and it is I who have
killed all their children."
"And how do you do that?"
"Easily. When the infant sneezes nobody says, 'Domine stekan,' [72]
and then I become mistress of the child."
The witch enters, doubtless as she liked, much more easily than our
lad; but nevertheless he got in himself too. He was busy choosing
his sheep, when he hears the infant sneeze. He says very, very loudly:
"Domine stekan; even if I should not get my sheep."
They go to see who is there, and what he was saying. The lad relates
what the old woman had told him. As you may imagine they thanked him
well, and told him to choose the finest sheep. The father and mother
were delighted that they would save this child; but, poor wretches,
they had not seen everything. A devil had come, who took their child
and carried it to the roadside, and left it there. A coachman passing
by sees this child, and takes it with him. He was married, but had
no children. They had a great desire to have one. They were very
well off also. His wife was delighted to see this fine child; they
gave it a good nurse, and the child grew fast and became wonderfully
handsome. The devil had placed himself in the child's cradle. This
mother gave him suck, and, contrary to the other, he did not grow at
all. The parents were vexed at having such a child; they did not know
what to think of it. Their true child was more than extraordinarily
clever. The coachman and his wife were dazed with joy, and they loved
him as (if he were) their own child. When he was twelve years old,
he said to his father and mother that he wished to become a monk. The
coachman and his wife were very sorry, and they asked him to become
only a priest. But after having seen his great desire they allow him
to do as he wished.
He went away then, and at the age of eighteen years he was able to
say mass. When he was there, one day two men were passing in front
of the garden of his real father, and they began to quarrel. They got
so enraged that one killed the other, and threw him into his father's
garden. This father was tried and condemned to death for having killed
this man.
While this young monk was saying mass, there comes to him a white
pigeon and tells him what was taking place in his father's house,
and that the pigeon will assume the form of the monk, "and you shall
go off in my shape." The monk willingly does what he tells him, and
arrives when they are leading his father to execution. He was being
followed by the judges and by a crowd of people. He asks what he has
done. They tell him that he has killed a man. He asks if they would
do him a favour before they put him to death--if they would accompany
him to the grave of the man whom he has killed. They tell him, "Yes."
They all go off then. The monk has the grave opened, restores him to
life, and asks him, pointing to his father:
"Is this the man who has killed you?"