Episode 159 – That Darn Cat – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 159 Show Notes

Source: Hungarian Folklore

This week on MYTH, it’s off to a mysterious kingdom on the border of ancient Persia by way of Hungary. You’ll see that the right spouse makes all the difference, that almost anyone can be charmed by a purring cat, and that you should never trust a magician who lives in a cave. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a young man will try to win a princess’ hand with a story of a spectacular pig. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 159, “That Darn Cat”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
This week’s story comes from Old Hungarian Fairy Tales, collected in 1895 by Emma Magdolna Rozalia Maria Jozefa Borbala Orczy de Orci Tarnaors, better known by the much more succinct Baroness Orczy. Once upon a time in the far East, somewhere on the borders of Persia, there was a large kingdom ruled over by the good Sultan Abu Hafiz. The land there was rich and bountiful; the trade was plentiful and prosperous; and the people were safe and happy. Well, the people except for the Sultan himself, that is. The ruler of this long ago and far away kingdom was quite miserable. Even as he walked the terraces of his magnificent palace, looking out over the splendid gardens there, his expression was always dour. Not even the big wet eyes of the lovely goldfish swimming through the crystal basins of the spectacular fountains could draw a smile to his face.
What had this powerful man so depressed you ask? For once, it was something utterly human and completely understandable. Abu Hafiz had not known a single happy day since the one that had taken his beloved wife from him. The beautiful Sultana Arizade had gone out walking one day with her retinue of women through these very palace grounds. When the group had reached the palace gates, they had been attacked by some great monster that had snuck inside. The story says that Arizade swooned away at the sight of the terrible beast and never regained consciousness, but I have to imagine that this is a polite way of avoiding the much more likely possibility that the Sultana was mauled to death. The terrified women had done everything in their power to try and save Arizade’s life, but she was simply too far gone. Having escaped the beast at the sacrifice of their beloved Sultana, they were forced to bear her ravaged corpse back to her husband.
In despair, the Sultan had torn his clothes and ripped bloody chunks out of his beard. The Court went into mourning with him and then he vanished from the public eye. For months, no one saw hide nor hair of their leader as he grieved his unbearable loss. Unfortunately, affairs of state could not run without him forever and he was forced to reemerge to rule the country once more. To his credit, Abu Hafiz was every bit as kind and gentle as he had ever been even in the midst of his deep depression. He made time to listen to the claims of his poorest subjects with the same patience he’d had before, but the light had gone out of his eyes. Not even his son ever saw the Sultan smile (which has got to be hard on a kid who also just lost his mom).
Despite all his efforts to keep up with the kingdom’s needs, the people could see that grief was slowly killing their good Sultan. Thus his ministers held council to try and devise a plan to rouse their leader from his gloom. After much discussion, it was agreed that the Grand Vizier Ben Achmed would approach Abu Hafiz about remarrying. In a lot of stories, the Grand Vizier is a cruel, conniving, manipulative figure but that’s often a trope to allow for a powerful man to be the bad guy without getting in trouble with the actual head of state. Though there have definitely been plenty of viziers and men of similar power who have abused the shit out of their office under the guise of serving their leader. In this case, Ben Achmed is a worthy man doing his best to carry out a difficult task.
There’s really no good way to approach a subject like this, so the Grand Vizier struggled to find his opening. At last, seeing his Sultan falling ever deeper into despair, he decided to just throw the hail mary. Ben Achmed threw himself down at Abu Hafiz’s feet to beg his attention and forbearance. “Your Majesty, I am almost certainly overstepping here so I beg you to have pity on an old and faithful subject for taking such liberty with you. Your love for Sultana Arizade does you credit, Majesty, but the kingdom needs you. It is time for this mourning to end. Your endless sadness is affecting your people despite your best efforts. Your subjects are losing heart – laughter has vanished from the kingdom and trade has come to a standstill. Without you to lead them back into joy, they will all fall into an inescapable despair. Thus it is that I, in the name of your people, most humbly beg that you marry again. Find some lovely, kind-hearted princess who can bring a much-needed light back into your life and into this kingdom. Your subjects will find renewed hope in the chance to cheer your wedding and see you heal from your grief.”
Very predictably, the Sultan absolutely refused to hear it. At first. The Grand Vizier did not relent, however. He was gentle but insistent. In time, Abu Hafiz was forced to concede that his chief minister and loyal adviser had a point. If he had been a common man, he could have remained in mourning for his beloved Arizade for the rest of his life if he wanted, but as Sultan he had a duty to the kingdom. “Very well, Ben Achmed. I will agree to your proposal and remarry on one condition – you find a princess who is as beautiful, kind, and virtuous as my dearly departed Arizade was. I will not tarnish her memory by marrying anyone who is not her equal.” It was a difficult but not unreasonable condition (and it wasn’t like the Grand Vizier was in a position to haggle anyway), so the agreement was made. Ambassadors were sent out post haste to countries near and far in search of potential brides for the Sultan.
It was a lengthy and difficult search for Arizade had been a truly remarkable woman. In time, one of the ambassadors, who had traveled to an extremely distant kingdom, met someone he thought might fit the bill. This princess was herself a widow, her husband having been killed tragically in battle, so she would be able to understand the Sultan’s deep well of sadness. She was every bit as beautiful as the former Sultana had been, and was quite famous in this part of the world for her wit, her kindness, her accomplishments, and her wealth. The ambassador thought she would make a fine wife to Abu Hafiz and a fine stepmother to his son. Assuming she agreed to the match, of course.
And that’s where shit hit the fan. See, this Princess had a son of her own by her dead husband whom she quite reasonably refused to leave behind, even temporarily for a trip to the kingdom to meet the Sultan. The ambassador realized that he wasn’t going to talk her into making the journey unless she was moving her whole life there with her, and so he did the only thing he could think of – he wrote the Sultan a letter with the most overwrought, grandiose account of the Princess’ beauty and kindness he could manage. He was clever enough to tell of her refusal to come visit as indicative of her good heart (which, to be fair, it totally was). The Sultan trusted his ambassador and so he was convinced by the letter. If he had to remarry (and despite himself, he knew that he did indeed need to), then this woman would be the one.
Abu Hafiz dispatched a thousand messengers, each bearing costly gifts along with his formal proposal of marriage. These were accompanied by an honor guard of 300 of his bravest and most courteous noblemen. They were to journey with her to the kingdom and keep her safe along the way, along with her retinue and her beloved son. She accepted the Sultan’s proposal and arrangements were made for a grand wedding in the palace. The entire city was decorated to the nines for the joyous occasion and a great feast was prepared to welcome the Princess to her new home.
Ben Achmed was sent to the gates to greet her, while the Sultan waited to receive her at the grand entrance to the palace. The vizier waited nervously for her arrival. This had all been his plan, so he was sticking his neck out a bit on this one. If the Princess wasn’t everything the ambassador had promised, it was the Grand Vizier who was going to be in the shit for it. Luckily, their trust in the ambassador had been well-placed. She was all the man had promised and more. Somehow, the absolutely glowing report of her hadn’t done her justice. Despite himself, the Sultan found himself utterly charmed by this incredible woman. Taking her hand, he led her to the banqueting hall for the feast, seating her next to his own golden throne. She was beautiful, sure, but it was her conversation that truly won him over. Her voice was sweet and lilting, and her mind was sharp and insightful. She talked cleverly and with great knowledge on a wide range of subjects.
The wedding festivities lasted for a full three days, with all the lavish splendor that you would expect from a royal wedding. I picture the grand entrance of Aladdin into the city as the fake Prince Ali in the animated movie and I don’t think that’s far off. At the end of it all, the guests returned home exhausted but thrilled at having been able to participate. Life in the palace returned to some semblance of normal though, with the Sultana now in residence, a new normal had to be found. The Princess (now the new Sultana) stepped into her role, working to fill the enormous shoes of her predecessor. In spite of her beauty and charm however, the people began to take a dislike to her.
Her new position afforded her intimate access to the Sultan (and I mean that in both the sexy and non-sexy ways), and she had no qualms about exerting her influence. It soon became clear that she intended to place her own son on the throne after her new husband instead of the existing prince, son of the dead but still beloved Arizade. The existing heir had grown into a kind, brave, and handsome young man who the people felt sure would follow his father’s example of wisdom and justice. He was very popular in the city and in the kingdom at large, which the new Sultana couldn’t help but notice.
And yes, we’re about to dive headlong into the evil stepmother trope here. The Sultana was incredibly jealous of her new stepson’s popularity, knowing that it would be incredibly difficult to supplant him in favor of her own son. Thus she began to plot in secret against the prince, trying to find a way to destroy his reputation or, if possible, kill him outright (though she would have to be careful to make it look like an accident). All of this was kept away from the knowledge of Sultan Abu Hafiz, who loved his son and would never have allowed such bullshit to go on if he’d known about it.
These plots all came to nothing though since the young man often accompanied his father during the many affairs of state to prepare him to rule one day. And when he wasn’t, he was still surrounded by his devoted and faithful bodyguards. Time went by and the Sultan grew quite old. He was tired of being responsible for the kingdom and, more importantly, he felt sure that his son and heir was ready to take the throne in his stead. He called for his family to formally announce that he intended to abdicate in favor of the Prince. He smiled at his wife, completely unaware of how many times she had tried to have said Prince assassinated. “I hope that one day you find a princess to marry who will make as good a wife to you as your mother was to me and to this kingdom. I bid you to be as kind, just, and wise a ruler as I always tried to be, my son.”
The Sultana smiled and pretended to be happy, but inside she was furious. She hadn’t given up on her hopes of making her own son the next sultan, but if the Prince actually took the throne, her chances of that became effectively zero. She would lose a lot of her influence and access as wife to a former sultan, and her target would be even better guarded than ever. If she was going to do this, it had to be now. Thus that very night, she sat down with her son Ben Haroun to scheme. Prince Al Hafiz (and yeah, it’s a little weird that we haven’t gotten names for these two men until now, or for the Sultana at all) had already chosen a bride. She was a princess from a nearby kingdom, a sweet, lovely lady who was part of his father’s retinue. The two had been in love for some time and were anxiously looking forward to their wedding. The Sultan wanted his son to be married before he took the throne (and he was very happy with his son’s choice in wife), and so the wedding date had been set for three days hence.
The Sultana and Ben Haroun knew that the Abu Hafiz planned to retire with his wife to private life as soon as the wedding feast was concluded, which meant that they had only three days to remove their foe. Things were desperate and so they took drastic action – that very night, mother and son consulted with the powerful magician Abraduz. The man had come over from the Far East with the Sultana as part of her retinue when she had first married, so he was loyal to her and not her husband. They found Abraduz in his cavern, busily brewing bubbling potions and distilling them into oddly shaped bottles and goblets. He wore a tall, peaked hat and a beard so long it brushed the ground in classic wizard fashion.
Without looking up from his work, he addressed his visitors as they entered. “I know why you have come tonight and what you seek from me. You wish for a spell or potion to destroy your rival, the young prince Al Hafiz. This, I cannot do. Magic is unable to kill another human being, though it can accomplish many wondrous things.” This did not please the Sultana, who was fed up with failures and excuses in those she had employed to rid her of her pesky problem prince. Her eyes glistened with a rage she barely kept contained. “I suggest you find a way to help me, Abraduz, for if your magic cannot kill then I think you’ll find that my sharp dagger very much can.”
It wasn’t subtle as threats go, and the magician couldn’t mistake the open malice in his Sultana’s words. “I am an old man and I do not fear death. I will help you not because of your threats but because you have always been generous with me and let me carry out my mystical works. The Prince does not trust magicians and, if he becomes Sultan, he will likely expel me from this country. I was not lying when I said that my magic could not kill him, though.” The Sultana started to protest, but the magician cut her off. “I do however have a plan. I have been brewing a potion for you, one that I think will get you what we both want. Put but a single drop on the threshold of the Prince’s chambers and, the moment he steps across it, he will be transformed into a black cat. Once he is thus changed, you should find it easy to kill him. No one will question the corpse of a stray cat found in an alley.
“This potion does have its limits, Sultana. My power waxes and wanes with the moon and on the night of the new moon, when the sky is dark, it vanishes entirely. On that night, the prince will return to his human form for six hours. Make your plans carefully, Highness. No one can ever know that either of us had a hand in the Prince’s mysterious disappearance. The lack of any body will help you, but you must still take care.” As he spoke, Abraduz took up his magic wand and a dried human skull. Placing the latter on the ground, he drew a circle around it with the former and poured a measure of dark, bubbling liquid into the skull. As the Sultana and her son watched in eager anticipation, the magician chanted his incantation in an unknown language strange to their ears. He added esoteric ingredients to the brew as he went: leg of frog and skin of spotted snake, tooth of shark and a unicorn’s horn. When he had finished, he retrieved the skull full of magic liquid and handed it over to his patroness. With great care, she carried it back to the palace.
By the time all of this scheming and magical preparation was done, the hour was very late. The palace was all but deserted except for the Sultana and her skull of magic potion. Unable to wait even a single day more, she crept over to the Prince’s bedchamber. Two of his loyal attendants, both black men (the story repeats this detail several times, which feels a bit racist and completely unnecessary to hammer home like this) were lying in front of the door. They were both fast asleep, but anyone attempting to enter the Prince’s room would certainly awaken them. It sounds like they were supposed to be awake and actively guarding but had been unable to keep their eyes open. The Sultana didn’t need to open the door. Moving on tiptoes as silently as she could manage, she poured out a little of the skull’s contents on the threshold and then slunk away. Morning would tell whether the magician’s dark spells had worked.
When the Sultana awoke, the palace was in an uproar over the impossible disappearance of Prince Al Hafiz. According to the two guards who had been asleep on duty the night before, no one had entered his chambers during the night (which was true, although they didn’t know about the Sultana’s little excursion). The Prince had been there all night, they were sure, since they had seen him open the door that very morning. As he had stepped across the doorway, Al Hafiz had vanished without a trace as though the earth itself had opened up and gobbled him down. No sign could be found of him in the palace, so a search was begun throughout the city and, when that failed, the entire kingdom.
Several leads were followed up, but all turned out to be dead ends. The Prince was gone like he had never existed. Sultan Abu Hafiz and the Prince’s fiance were beside themselves with grief at this impossible tragedy. Nothing could console them so long as Al Hafiz was gone, and the palace descended into a despair even deeper and more oppressive than the one after his mother’s death. The only comfort that the Sultan could find in this whole terrible ordeal was not the love of his dear wife (as one might expect if you didn’t know that she was behind this whole shitty affair). No, it was the company of a gorgeous Angora cat that had taken up residence in the palace of late. Since the disappearance of his son, this little kitty would visit with the Sultan for hours at a time, sitting on his knee and gazing at him with deep, soulful eyes. If he didn’t know better, Abu Hafiz would have almost sworn that the cat’s gaze was reproachful and concerned, but that was impossible of course. It was after all just a stray cat, even if something about those strange eyes reminded the man of his missing son.
Naturally, the Sultana was not entirely thrilled with how this had turned out. The magic had gone off without a hitch, but the cat had promptly taken up with the Sultan, thus managing to make use of the royal bodyguards, even as a cat. It sat on his knee during the day and slept by his bed at night. The new moon was fast approaching, and this whole sordid affair could fall apart if she didn’t manage to kill that damned cat before then. The Prince might not know who was behind his ensorcellment, but if he turned back into a human around his father, it would only be a matter of time before someone managed to break the spell. Worse, if they realized that magic had been involved, Abraduz would come under suspicion and soon after, the Sultana. That could not be allowed to happen.
She kept her eyes open for an opportunity to finish the job and murder that little asshole once and for all. And at last, she saw her chance. It was a particularly dark and oppressive night, the kind that leaves you almost too hot and tired to even sleep. The Sultan had been persuaded by his wife to take a sleeping potion to allow him to escape the restless nights he’d been having since Al Hafiz’s disappearance. The Sultana waited until she was sure that her still-unsuspecting husband was out cold and the palace was empty and still. She crept silently over to the Sultan’s bed (I assume they sleep in separate beds if not separate rooms entirely) where the transformed prince slept. She tossed a thick, heavy cloth over the sleeping cat where it lay curled up at the foot of the bed. It awoke in a panic and fought to escape, but the Sultana had planned well. The thick cloth made an effective restraint for the cat, one its teeth and claws could not penetrate.
Scooping the hissing cat up, she hurried over to the window that overlooked the terrace. Below that lay a crystal clear decorative lake. With all her strength, the Sultana hurled the trapped cat out over the edge and towards the water. She heard it hit with a heavy splash and a strangled yowl, but she couldn’t risk staying to watch the prince die. She slunk soundlessly back to her own bed to pretend like nothing had happened.
The next morning, the Sultana awoke with a lighter heart than she’d had since she’d first come to this kingdom. That fucking prince was finally dead, leaving the path to the throne clear for her own beloved Ben Haroun. I have to wonder if maybe she didn’t know about the prince when she agreed to marry the Sultan. As she skipped down the steps of the terrace however, what should she see but that same goddamned cat drying its fur in the sun and staring at her with obvious triumph in its eyes. It clearly knew who had tried to kill it the night before and would be on guard for her schemes in the future. There were servants around her, so she couldn’t allow her surprise to show. She just strolled on (no more skipping now) and waited to hear someone explain just how the fuck this had gone wrong. Again.
Said explanation was not long in coming. It turned out that the young princess who was betrothed to Al Hafiz had been out at the lake the night before to do a little night swimming. With everything as hot and oppressive as it had been, the lake had sounded like just the thing. Imagine her surprise when a terrified cat had dropped out of the very heavens to land with a splash in front of her. She had dived in after the poor creature and rescued him before any real harm could come to him. No cat likes getting dunked in the water like that (and especially not one smart enough to know that it had narrowly dodged a murder attempt), but he was unharmed. She had cared for the cat that night and had left it to sunbathe in the morning so that its luxurious fur might regain its usual sleek beauty.
At the sight of the smug little kitty cat staring at her, the Sultana lost any semblance of control. She flew into a violent rage at this tale of incredible good luck – clearly this cat had used up one of its nine lives escaping certain death. I mean, I don’t know how certain it really was. Cat’s may not like water, but they can still swim and I don’t imagine the Sultana was a champion pussy shot putter or anything, so I imagine he could have made it to shore. Getting free of the thick cloth trapping him would have been the one real snag, which could certainly be lethal but was definitely a gamble.
Anyway, she screamed at the cat and tried to grab it with her bare hands, but it scrambled away and climbed up high out of her reach. With the cat safely away, there wasn’t much the Sultana could do but give it up for now and wait for a better opportunity. The cat was out of the bag as it were and now everyone knew just how much she personally hated that damned cat. The Sultan had to keep a careful watch on the animal that had become his emotional support kitty to keep her from straight-up murdering it. She’d even tried to commit kitty-cide in front of the Sultan himself, which was maybe the first real indication he’s had that his wife might not be quite as good and kind as he’d originally been led to believe.
The night of the new moon was fast approaching and the Sultana’s attempts to kill the transformed prince became more constant and more desperate. She and her son Ben Haroun concocted scheme after scheme, but none were successful. That damned cat was just too clever and observant – it always saw their plots coming in time to beat a hasty retreat to the relative safety of the Sultan or the Princess.
At last, the night arrived. The dark moon would rise in just a few hours and with it would come the Prince’s transformation back into a human. I don’t believe that he has any idea that this is part of the magic; he’s just been scrambling to stay alive. Time was up. The Sultana knew that this was her last fucking chance to get away with this. If the prince was able to tell everyone what had happened to him, her goose was cooked. Luck appeared to be on her side. Sultan Abu Hafiz was secluded away with his Grand Vizier Ben Achmed to pore over some pressing affairs of state. Thus the cat was roaming the palace in search of the young Princess, who was his only remaining port in a storm should he need one. She had gone out for a midnight ramble (she liked the quiet stillness of the night and, as we saw with her night swimming excursion, she often roamed about after darkness fell).
Prince Ben Haroun had spent the afternoon at the lake and had managed to catch a huge young trout, which he reeled in and left strung up on the line. He left it flopping noisily on the marble steps of the palace as though abandoned by the fisherman. That done, he and the Sultana hid themselves out of sight behind the pillars on the terrace and waited. It didn’t take long for the kitty prince to come across the struggling fish. He might be a transformed human but he was quite hungry and the magician’s potion had turned him enough into a cat to give him a taste for raw, wriggling fish.
He had learned to be cautious in these last few weeks of cat and mouse with the Sultana. Al Hafiz crept cautiously out towards the lake peering around in all directions for any sign of deception or a trap. Seeing none, he stalked towards the struggling fish. As he neared, the fish seemed to sense his approach and flop steadily away. The cat crept closer and the fish slipped away at almost the exact same rate. Prince Cat stopped to consider this odd situation. He’d never known a fish to act like this. He was nervous but he was also ravenous and the trout smelled absolutely delectable. Hunger won out over caution and he pounced towards the fish, which was now very near the terrace.
As he landed atop it, the trap was sprung. Hands appeared from behind the pillars and scooped him into a heavy bag. No loose cloth that he could wriggle out of this time. Worse, he felt a heavy stone tied around his neck to weigh him down. He bit and clawed and yowled as loud as he could, but it was no use. He could not escape and it seemed none of his allies were near enough to hear his cries. As he was carried to what he assumed was a watery demise at the bottom of the lake, he heard his cruel stepmother gloating. “Come on, Ben Haroun – the lake isn’t far. We need to drown this fucker before the moon rises, which will be any minute now.”
Al Hafiz still struggled, but he knew it was hopeless. He was utterly at the mercy of his enemies. The Sultana pulled the cat out of the bag so that her wicked face was the last thing he saw as Ben Haroun reared back to hurl the prince to his death, weighted down by the stone around his neck. This moment of gloating proved to be a terrible mistake for the dastardly duo. Even as he began his throw, the new moon rose above the horizon and Abraduz’s magic vanished. In an instant, Ben Haroun was no longer throwing a cat, he was wrestling a very angry human prince. The Sultana fled in terror, abandoning her son who’s surprise and fear made him an easy target for the furious Prince Al Hafiz, who had a lot of aggression to work out for all of the attempted fratricide. He quickly overpowered his stepbrother and took him prisoner.
Dragging his captive into the Sultan’s private study, the Prince interrupted his meeting with the Grand Vizier to announce his return and bring the hammer of justice down on the guilty. When Sultan Abu Hafiz heard the whole sordid tale of betrayal and cruelty, he was in a towering rage. Only the fact that they were technically family as well as foreign royalty saved their lives. The now ex-Sultana and her son were exiled from the kingdom and forbidden to return on pain of death. The wicked magician Abraduz was taken into custody that night and hanged in the morning. It really seems like all three should have gotten the same punishment (if not worse for the two who were calling all the shots) but, as they say, power hath its privileges.
Once all that was done, the Sultan and the Prince were finally able to celebrate the latter’s unexpected return. The pervasive gloom that had hung across the palace was gone as if it had never been, replaced by the welcome celebration of the delayed wedding. Everything went off without a hitch and the Prince and the Princess became very happy newlyweds. The Sultan did indeed abdicate in favor of their rule, which all said was as prosperous, peaceful, and wise as old Abu Hafiz’s reign had been. The story says that, if you were to travel to the borders of Persia (now known as Iran) to this nameless kingdom, you would still find the Prince and the Princess (now Sultan and Sultana) reigning happily with old Abu Hafiz and maybe even Grand Vizier Ben Achmed still hanging around to this very day. I doubt that, but hey. You can decide for yourself how the story ends. And so with everything set right and the Kitty Cat Prince become human once more, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s magic phrase is ‘not true’.
This story also comes from Old Hungarian Fairy Tales by Baroness Orczy. Once upon a time, long ago and far away, there lived a princess who was widely famed for her beauty but also for her eccentricity. She’s always been an odd duck but, when it came time for her to marry for the good of the kingdom, she announced that she would only marry the man who could tell her father the king a story that he would not believe. The proof of a claimant’s success would be to get the king to utter the phrase ‘not true’. It was a simple enough task compared to many others we’ve heard and this one doesn’t appear to carry a death penalty upon failure, which is nice.
Thus it was that a young peasant man heard of this royal proclamation and decided that here was a golden opportunity to improve his station. With as poor as he and his family was, he had no hope of ever becoming rich and powerful apart from this one strange chance from one strange princess. He packed up his meager belongings and set out immediately for the palace, finding himself the next of many to arrive to try his luck and telling the king an unbelievable story.
The king of course knew good and well what this dirty, poor young man wanted. He had the usual prejudices and inflated ego of the rich and powerful, so he’d already decided that this young man was in no way suitable to marry his lovely, clever daughter. Many princes and knights had already come and tried to meet the princess’ unbelievable marriage requirement, but none had seemed worthy to her father and none had been able to get him to utter the magic phrase. They had all been better men and better educated to boot, so the king wasn’t about to let this dirty, illiterate peasant get the better of him. He settled in to hear out the attempt of this peasant, a man named John, and then usher him quickly away again.
John entered, bowing low to the king who sniffed in annoyance. “Good morning, your Majesty.” “Good morning. And what brings you here to the palace today?” The king already knew what he was here for, but it was polite to ask. Plus maybe he would realize how ridiculous it was for him to try and marry a princess and give up before he started. “If it please your Majesty, I am here about the proclamation. I wish to marry your daughter.” The king looked the man up and down very deliberately. “Is that so? And how exactly are you planning on providing for my daughter’s well-being and happiness?” “Oh don’t worry about that, Highness. I dare say I could keep her quite comfortable. You see, my father has a pig.”
The king hadn’t been sure where this conversation was going to go, but it certainly hadn’t been there. “A pig, you say? That’s all well and good but you’ll need more than a single pig to provide for a princess.” “Oh but this isn’t any ordinary pig, it’s a very special pig. I might even go so far as to say it’s some pig.” And yes, that was a Charlotte’s Web reference (although to be honest, the spider was the one doing all of the special shit in that book. Wilbur just kind of sat there and looked cute). “That pig has provided everything we need to take care of my father, my mother, my seven sisters, and me for the last twenty years!”
“Well that is indeed some pig. How exactly does one pig do that for two decades?” “Well the pig gives us a good quart of fresh milk every morning, twice as tasty as any cow.” “Well I suppose pigs are mammals so they could technically give milk though I’ve never heard of one being milked before.” “That’s not all. This pig also lays a whole pile of eggs each morning – more than enough for us to eat our fill.” “What a strange pig.” “Oh yes. And every day, my mother cuts a nice rasher of bacon from his flank and it grows back every night.” “Huh, so this is a male pig you’re milking and also you’re eating it every day. This sounds like some Promethean nightmare but go on.” “Well unfortunately, our pig up and vanished the other day. My mother searched high and low for him, but he was nowhere to be found. As you can imagine, we were quite worried.” “I would expect so.” “But later that day, he turned up in our larder catching mice!” “How fortuitous. I’ve heard that pigs often have a taste for flesh, though never of one hunting like that. Quite a useful pig it seems.”
“He’s also incredibly smart. My father sends him into town every afternoon to do chores.” “How wise of your father. It’s very prudent to make use of your very special resource that way.” “I agree. The pig was the one who ordered all of our clothes from Your Majesty’s very own tailor.” “They do appear well-made. I’ll make sure to let him know how well his work is holding up. I know his services don’t come cheap.” “Thank you, Highness. We are able to pay for such fine clothing because the pig gathers up gold along the road as he walks to cover everything.” “A very precocious pig. I had no idea there was so much gold along the kingdoms’ roads.”
“He is indeed, sire. Alas, he’s seemed to be quite irritable and out of sorts of late.” “Well that’s unfortunate.” “I agree. He’s refusing to go where he is told anymore and what’s more, he’s refusing to let my mother cut a slab of bacon from his side in the morning.” “That’s very rude of him. He should be grateful that you cut him up every night after sending him out to do all your work for you. You should punish him.” “It’s not entirely his fault though. He is quite old for a pig and starting to go blind. He can’t see where he’s going anymore, which has to be frustrating for someone who’s been so independent for so long.” “I can imagine. Someone should look after the pig, lead him around.”
“That’s what I said! Which is why my father hired your father just this morning to take care of our magic pig.” That caught the king by surprise. He’d gotten rather wrapped up in this fantastical tale and he quite forgot himself. He leapt to his feet, furious at the dispersions cast on his family and his elderly father. “That’s not true!” As soon as the words passed his lips, the king remembered the terms of his daughter’s proclamation. Well, shit. This was the last person he’d imagined for his future son-in-law but a promise was a promise.
They held the wedding as soon as it could be arranged (and once John could be spruced up and properly dressed for the occasion). To the king’s credit, he gave the young man a fair shake and was surprised to find that the former peasant turned prince was actually quite good at the job of statecraft. He lived in the palace with the king and his new wife for many years, earning the trust and love of the people. They were all therefore quite happy when the old king eventually decided to abdicate the throne in favor of John and the princess. They all lived happily ever after and the people said that they had never before had so wise or just a ruler.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Instagram as MythsYourTeacherHatedPod, on Tumblr as MythsYourTeacherHated, on Bluesky as MythsPodcast, and on Mastodon as MythsYourTeacherHated. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff.
Next time, we’re heading back to long ago England for the next tale in the Arthurian legend. You’ll learn that barons can’t be trusted to stick to a schedule, that the best kings are raised from humble origins (well, as humble as you can be while still being a family of knights), and that archbishops have to put up with a lot of bullshit from the nobility. Then, in Gods and Monsters, Jack the farmer will match wits with a tricksy fae spirit. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.