Stephen The Murderer

: The Folk-tales Of The Magyars

There was once, I don't know where, over seven times seven countries, or

even beyond that, a very, very rich farmer, and opposite to him lived

another farmer just as rich. One had a son and the other a daughter.

These two farmers often talked over family matters together at their

gates, and at last arranged that their children should marry each other,

so that in case the old people died the young people would be able to

take possession of the farms. But the young girl could not bear the

young man, although he was very fond of her. Then her parents threatened

to disinherit her if she did not marry as she was bid, as they were very

wishful for the marriage to take place.



On the wedding morning, when they arrived at church, and were standing

before the altar, the bride took the wedding ring and dashed it on the

floor before the clergyman, saying, "Here, Satan, take this ring; and,

if ever I bear a child to this man, take it too!" In a moment the devil

appeared, snatched up the ring, and vanished. The priest, seeing and

hearing all that was done, declined to proceed with the ceremony,

whereupon the fathers remonstrated with him, and declared that if he did

not proceed he would lose his living. The wedding thereupon was duly

celebrated.



As time went by the farmers both died; and the young folks, who couldn't

bear each other before, at last grew very fond of each other, and a

handsome boy was born. When he was old enough he went to school, where

he got on so well that before long his master could teach him no more.

He then went to college, where he did the same as at school, so that his

parents began to think of him taking holy orders. About this time his

father died; and he noticed that every night when he came home from the

college that his mother was weeping: so he asked her why she wept.

"Never mind me, my son," said she; "I am grieving over your father."

"But you never cared much for him," said he; "cheer up, for I shall

soon be a priest." "That's the very thing I'm weeping over," said his

mother; "for just when you will be doing well the devils will come for

you, because when I was married to your father I dashed the wedding-ring

on the ground, saying, 'Here, Satan, take this ring; and if ever I bear

a child to this man take it too.' One fine day, then, you will be

carried off by the devil in the same way as the ring." "Is this indeed

true, mother?" said the student. "It is indeed, my son." With that he

went off to the priest, and said, "Godfather, are these things which my

mother tells me concerning her wedding true?" "My dear godson," replied

the priest, "they are true; for I saw and heard all myself." "Dear

godfather, give me then at once holy candles, holy water, and incense."

"Why do you want them, my son?" asked the priest. "Because," replied the

student, "I mean to go to hell at once, after that lost ring and the

deed of agreement." "Don't rush into their hands," said the priest;

"they will come for you soon enough." But the more the priest talked the

more determined was the student to set off at once for the infernal

regions.



So off he went, and travelled over seven times seven countries. One

evening he arrived at a large forest, and, as darkness set in, he lost

his way and roamed about hither and thither looking for some place to

rest; at last he found a small cottage where an old woman lived. "Good

evening, mother," said he. "Good luck has brought you here, my son,"

said she. "What are you doing out here so late?" "I have lost my way,"

replied the student, "and have come here to ask for a night's lodging."

"I can give you lodging, my son, but I have a murderous heathen son, who

has destroyed three hundred and sixty-six lives, and even now is out

robbing. He might return at any moment, and he would kill you; so you

had better go somewhere else and continue your way in peace, and mind

you take care not to meet him."



"Whether he kill me or not," said the student, "I shall not stir an

inch." As the old woman could not persuade him to go he stayed. After

midnight the son returned, and shouted out loudly under the window,

"Have you got my supper ready?" He then crept in on his knees, for he

was so tall that he could not enter otherwise. As they sat at table he

suddenly saw the student. "Mother, what sort of a guest is that?" said

he. "He's a poor tramp, my son, and very tired." "Has he had anything to

eat?" "No; I offered him food, but he was too tired to eat." "Go and

wake him, and say, 'Come and eat'; because whether he eat or whether he

let the food alone he will repent it."



"Hollo!" said the student, "what is the matter?"



"Don't ask any questions," replied the old woman; "but come and eat."

The student obeyed, and they sat down to supper. "Don't eat much," said

the old woman's son, "because you will repent it if you do eat and you

will repent it if you don't." While they were eating the old woman's son

said, "Where are you going, mate--what is your destination?" "Straight

to hell, among the devils," quoth the student.



"It was my intention to kill you with a blow; but now that I know where

you are going I will not touch you. Find out for me what sort of a bed

they have prepared for me in that place."



"What is your name?"



"My name," said he, "is Stephen the Murderer."



In the morning, when they awoke, Stephen gave the student a good

breakfast, and showed him which way to go. On he travelled till at

length he approached the gates of hell. He then lighted his incense,

sprinkled the holy water, and lighted the holy candles. In a very short

time the devils began to smell the incense, and ran out, crying, "What

sort of an animal are you? Don't come here! Don't approach this place;

or we will leave it at once!"



"Wherever you go," said the student, "I tell you I will follow you; for,

on such and such a date, you carried off from the church floor my

mother's wedding-ring; and if you don't return it and cancel the

agreement, and promise me that I will have no more trouble from you, I

will follow you wherever you go." "Don't come here," cried they; "stop

where you are, and we will get them for you at once."



They then blew a whistle and the devils came hastily out from all

directions, so many you could not count them, but they could not find

the ring anywhere. They sounded the whistle again, and twice as many

came as before, but still the ring was not to be found. They then

whistled a third time, and twice as many more came. One fellow came

limping up, very late. "Why don't you hurry," cried the others; "don't

you see that a great calamity has happened? The ring can't be found.

Turn out everybody's pockets, and on who ever it is found throw him into

the bed of Stephen the Murderer." "Wait a moment," cried the lame one,

"before you throw me into Stephen the Murderer's bed. I would rather

produce three hundred wedding-rings than be thrown into that place:"

whereupon he at once produced the ring, which they threw over the wall

to the student, together with the agreement, crying out that it was

cancelled.



One evening the student arrived back at Stephen the Murderer's. The

latter was out robbing. After midnight, as usual, he returned, and when

he saw the student he woke him, saying, "Get up, let's have something to

eat! And have you been to hell?"



"I have." "What have you heard of my bed?" "We should never have got the

ring," said the student, "if the devils had not been threatened with

your bed." "Well," said Stephen, "that must be a bad bed if the devils

are afraid of it."



They got up the next morning, and the student started for home. Suddenly

it struck Stephen the Murderer that as the student had made himself

happy he ought to do as much for him. So he started after the student,

who, when he saw him coming, was very much afraid lest he should be

killed. In a stride or two Stephen overtook the student. "Stop, my

friend; as you have bettered your lot, better mine, so that I may not go

to that awful bed in hell."



"Well then," said the student, "did you kill your first man with a club

or a knife?" "I never killed anybody with a knife," said Stephen, "they

have all been killed with a club." "Have you got the club you killed the

first man with? Go back and fetch it."



Stephen took one or two strides and was at home. He then took the club

from the shelf and brought it to the student; it was so worm-eaten that

you could not put a needle-point on it between the holes. "What sort of

wood is this made of?" asked the student. "Wild apple-tree," replied

Stephen. "Take it and come with me," said the student, "to the top of

the rock." On the top of the rock there was a small hill; into this he

bade him plant the club. "Now, uncle Stephen, go down under the rock,

and there you will find a small spring trickling down the face of the

stone. Go on your knees to this spring and pray, and, creeping on your

knees, carry water in your mouth to this club, and continue to do so

till it buds; it will then bear apples, and when it does you will be

free from that bed."



Stephen the Murderer began to carry the water to the club, and the

student left him, and went home. He was at once made a priest on account

of his courage in going to hell; and after he had been a priest for

twenty-five years they made him pope, and this he was for many years.



In those days it was the rule--according to an old custom--for the pope

to make a tour of his country, and it so happened that this pope came to

his journey's end, on the very rock upon which the club had been

planted. He stopped there with his suite, in order to rest. Suddenly one

of the servants saw a low tree on the top of the rock, covered with

beautiful red apples. "Your holiness," said he to the pope, "I have seen

most beautiful red apples, and if you will permit me I will go and

gather some." "Go," said the pope, "and if they are so very beautiful

bring some to me." The servant approached the tree; as he drew near he

heard a voice that frightened him terribly saying, "No one is allowed to

pluck this fruit except him who planted the tree." Off rushed the

servant to the pope, who asked him if he had brought any apples.



"Your holiness, I did not even get any for myself," gasped the servant,

"because some one shouted to me so loudly that I nearly dropped; I saw

no one, but only heard a voice that said, 'No one is allowed to pluck

this fruit but the man who planted the tree.'"



The pope began to think, and all at once he remembered that he had

planted the tree when he was a lad. He ordered the horses to be taken

out of his carriage, and, with his servant and his coachman, he set off

to the red apple-tree. When they arrived, the pope cried out, "Stephen

the Murderer, where are you?" A dried-up skull rolled out, and said,

"Here I am, your holiness; all the limbs of my body dropped off whilst I

was carrying water, and are scattered all around; every nerve and muscle

lies strewn here; but, if the pope commands, they will all come

together." The pope did so, and the scattered members came together into

a heap.



The servant and the coachman were then ordered to open a large, deep

hole, and to put the bones into it, and then cover all up, which they

did. The pope then said mass, and gave the absolution, and at that

moment Stephen the Murderer was delivered from the dreadful bed in hell.

The pope then went back to his own country, where he still lives, if he

has not died since.



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