A priest was about to engage a manservant. ‘Take care, priest,’ was his wife’s advice, ‘not to engage a man who indulges in filthy talk; for we have a marriageable daughter!’ ‘Very well, mother. I will pay attention to what you say.’ The priest started off in his cart, and met with a young man who was walking along the road. ‘Good day, batouchka [little father (a hypocoristic often applied to priests)].’—‘Good day, friend; where are you going?’—‘I am seeking a place as manservant, batouchka.’—‘And I, my friend, am just looking for a man. will you enter my service?’ ‘Willingly, batouchka.’—‘Only there is one condition. It is essential, my friend, that you abstain from the use of all improper words.’—‘Batouchia, I have never heard one said since I have been born.’—‘Very well; take your place by my side. You are the very man I want.’ A mare was harnessed to the cart; the priest lifted up her tail, and pointing with his whip to the mare’s coynte, said, ‘What is that, my friend? ‘That is a coynte, batouchka.’ ‘Ah, my friend, I don’t want people who speak so coarsely and vulgarly. You may go where you like.’
The young man saw how stupid he had been, but the mischief was done. He got out of the cart, and began to consider how he could play a trick on the priest. By taking a cross road he came out in front of the priest’s cart, which soon overtook him. The young man had turned his cloak. ‘Good day, batouchka.’—‘Good day, friend; where are you going?’—‘The fact is, batouchka, that I am seeking a place as manservant.’—‘And I, my friend, am just looking for a man. Come and live with me; but it is on condition that you never utter an indecent word. Whichever of us lets fall an obscene word must pay a hundred roubles to the other. Is that agreed?’—‘So be it, batouchka. For my own part, I cannot bear people who use such words.’—‘Well, so much the better. Seat yourself by my side, my friend.’
The young man obeyed, and the cart took the road to the village. When they had gone some little distance the priest lifted up the mare’s tail, and pointing to the coyote with the handle of his whip, said, ‘What is that, my friend?’—‘That is a prison, batouchka.’—‘Ah, my lad, I have found in you the very man I was seeking.’ On arriving at his house, the priest entered with his companion, pulled up his wife’s gown, and pointing with his finger to her coynte, asked: ‘And what is that, my friend?’—‘I do not know, batouchka. I have never in all my life seen anything so terrible.’—‘Don’t be afraid, my friend. That also is a prison.’ Then he called his daughter, tucked up her gown also, and bidding the young man look at the charms displayed, asked, ‘what is that?’—‘A prison, batouchka.’—‘No, my friend, it is a lock-up.’
They sat down to supper, and the repast being finished, went to bed. The man climbed on the stove, took the priest’s socks, put them on his own yard, and holding it in both hands, began to hello with all his might. ‘Batouchka! I have caught a thief! Light a candle quickly.’ The priest rose hurriedly and ran like a madman across the room. ‘Don’t let him go! Hold him tight,’ he cried out to the servant. ‘Never fear: he shall not escape.’ The priest lighted a candle and approached the stove. Then he saw the young man holding in his hands his yard, wrapped up in a pair of socks. ‘Here he is, batouchka. He has taken both your socks. We must punish the rascal.’—‘Have you lost your senses?’ roared the priest. ‘No, batouchka, but I will have no mercy shown to thieves. Get up, matouchka [little mother (colloquial)], and we will put the rascal in prison.’ The priest’s wife rose. ‘Put yourself in position, quickly,’ cried the young man. Whether she liked it or not, the popadia [wife of a Russian Orthodox priest] was forced to obey, and the young man hastened to futter her. At this sight the priest was in such a rage that he could not help crying out, ‘What are you doing, my friend? Futtering?’—‘Ah, batouchka, you know what was agreed between us as to obscene words. Pay me a hundred roubles!’
The priest was obliged to undo his purse strings, but as to the young man, he again grabbed hold of his member and began to abuse it. ‘That is not enough for you, you scoundrel! I will put you in a still worse prison. Come along, my dove,’ he added, speaking to the priest’s daughter: ‘Open your dungeon.’ He put the young girl in the required position, and proceeded to serve her as he had her mother. The mother was indignant. ‘Don’t you see, batouchka,’ she said angrily to her husband, ‘that he is futtering our daughter?’—‘Hold your tongue,’ replied the priest. ‘I have already paid a hundred roubles for you, do you want me to pay over again for her? No! let him do what he likes, I shall not say another word!’ The young man enjoyed himself to his heart’s content with the girl, after which the priest turned him out of doors.
[Comparative Note: cfr. Matteo Bandello, Novelle, P. III, no. 51: Beffa fatta da una Bresciana a suo marito col mezzo di un tedesco, che le scuote il pelliccione e non seppe usar la sua ventura. The particulars of the obscenely allegorical prison of this story are as follows: A very striking young lady from Brecia, strong and robust, as well as bold and gay, is the wife of a very ugly old man—a circumstance that is very annoying to her. To provide for herself despite the impotence of her husband, but unable to leave the house because this was forbidden by his jealous vigilance, she resolves to avail herself, when chance permits, of their house servant.
He is a handsome German youth, but a simpleton. One day, when her husband is far from home, the young wife sends her woman servant out to wash clothes, remaining alone with the youth. He is preparing supper, standing near the fire; because of the hot room he has removed his shirt. The lady, to be freer with him, closes the door; she begins to tease him verbally and to jostle him. She does not dare to invite him openly, but she pinches, tickles, caresses him and does a thousand similar little things to him. Realizing that the young simpleton understands nothing, while her own lustful appetite is uncontrollably aroused, she decides to achieve her pleasure by a trick, first trying to find out exactly what the German knows about women.
The youth is sitting near the fire and she sees that, either because of the heat of the season, or the wine, or the fire, or the gestures she has made toward him, the youth’s penis—of enormous size—has become stiff and dances between his legs. She pretends to have lost a belt, looks around, and asks him if he has seen it. He quickly answers that he has not. The mistress warns him not to lie, and threatens him with prison for the theft. She continues the pretense of searching for the belt, at the same time never turning her eyes away from the robust member dancing between the youth’s thighs; she approaches him, holding the belt hidden in her hand. As she seizes the bird with her belt, she says, "Here, here is the thief who has stolen my belt. I have caught him and, to punish him, I shall put him into prison and hold him there until he has repented four or five times over for his sin."
And thus, with the thief in her hand, the woman goes into the bedchamber where, drawing the German on top of her, they enclose the thief in a dark but pleasant (for that is what the servant says) prison; there they lead him about, forward and back, so that five times he sweetly repents of his transgression. And the servant, finding the prison a delightful place, tells the lady that whenever she might wish to imprison the thief—even if he does not steal her belt—he himself would willingly drive the culprit into the prison.
On the subject of a contest between two persons, in which money will be forfeited by the first to say a lascivious word, see Marcellino; the theme is well introduced by the tale of the avaricious banker who proposes to his house guest, a friar, that they engage in such a contest. The banker is confident of winning, for he had succeeded in tricking other friars before this. He has a beautiful wife, and, seating her at the table next to himself, he praises her hair, her eyes, and her mouth. He uncovers her bosom and fondles the beautiful, firm, full breasts. Then he asks the friar what he, the friar, would do with the woman if he possessed her. The friar replies that he would turn her into a cart, and to prove this true, with the husband’s consent he has the beautiful woman lay supine, with her naked belly exposed.
“Arch your arms, placing the tips
Of your fingers to the ground,” said the friar.
“Now start raising your knees...
Behold the four wheels already formed,
And that little raised figure where love reigns
Forms the seat where the servant sits.”
The banker finds the matter not going ill, but observes that the cart is lacking a wagon-tongue. The friar smiles and tells him to leave it to him to complete the project.
And as he raised his tunic, a strong
Monastic prick rose from his trousers.
Body of God! What are you doing, baron fucker?
Exclaimed the banker.
At which words, the friar chased the banker from the house, took the money, and remained alone with the wife.]