The wager
Circumstances are like boxes, contained in larger boxes, surrounded by still larger ones. When you rise to a wider view, some unattainable things come within reach. This reminds me of a story:
Timur was open-handed with his courtiers but somehow he would always take more than he gave. One whispered once that he would give with both hands but take with his feet too. To put it short, Nasrudin the jester wasn’t earning much money in spite of his much appreciated entertainment and advice. Because of this, Tamerlane was intrigued to find out at one time that his Hodja was throwing expensive parties with many guests and giving alms to the poor of Samarkand. The Emir had Nasrudin called to explain:
“I hear that you spend lavishly and indulge in philanthropy. Are you stealing me?”
“Certainly not, kind Master, how could I dare such a thing? I spend my own.”
“From whom do you have so much?”
Nasrudin leaned forward confidentially and muttered:
“I indulged in the sin of betting with rich people and I am winning money every time.”
Tamerlane was known to drink, lie and kill people. He was also possessed by the secret urge of gambling. He took the Mullah aside and asked in a low voice:
“You know my luck. What would you bet against me for a thousand silver akce stamped with my own sign?”
“If your pleasure is to lay a wager with me, I dare say for this money that tonight your Greatness will grow that blue spot - the mark of Genghis Khan - in form of a full moon, on, (forgive me to mention the place), your upper left buttock.”
Tamerlane, who was certain to win, and who also liked any allusion to Gengis was very pleased:
“Agreed!”, he said. “Tomorrow, keep your money ready!
That night Timur checked at least five times – with a silver mirror – that there was no sign on his backside.
At daybreak - having said his prayers - the great ruler honoured in person Nasrudin’s modest dwelling and claimed the money:
“You lost, worm. I win, as I always do.”
“A bet is a bet, Master. Let’s see together.”
Tamerlane rose his tunic and let down for an instant his salwar. It was obvious that there was no mark of Gengis. The Mullah handed over the sack of one thousand acke. The Emir left very pleased with this easy win.
Later at court Nasrudin looked so curiously happy that Timur had to ask:
“Do you still have money left to look so satisfied?”
“Three times what I had before O, Lord of the fortunate conjunction of the stars!”
“How is that possible?”
“I lost one bet, with you, but I won another, Master. I bet with your Vizier, four thousand silver acke, that your Highness will let down his trousers in my presence.”
Timur was open-handed with his courtiers but somehow he would always take more than he gave. One whispered once that he would give with both hands but take with his feet too. To put it short, Nasrudin the jester wasn’t earning much money in spite of his much appreciated entertainment and advice. Because of this, Tamerlane was intrigued to find out at one time that his Hodja was throwing expensive parties with many guests and giving alms to the poor of Samarkand. The Emir had Nasrudin called to explain:
“I hear that you spend lavishly and indulge in philanthropy. Are you stealing me?”
“Certainly not, kind Master, how could I dare such a thing? I spend my own.”
“From whom do you have so much?”
Nasrudin leaned forward confidentially and muttered:
“I indulged in the sin of betting with rich people and I am winning money every time.”
Tamerlane was known to drink, lie and kill people. He was also possessed by the secret urge of gambling. He took the Mullah aside and asked in a low voice:
“You know my luck. What would you bet against me for a thousand silver akce stamped with my own sign?”
“If your pleasure is to lay a wager with me, I dare say for this money that tonight your Greatness will grow that blue spot - the mark of Genghis Khan - in form of a full moon, on, (forgive me to mention the place), your upper left buttock.”
Tamerlane, who was certain to win, and who also liked any allusion to Gengis was very pleased:
“Agreed!”, he said. “Tomorrow, keep your money ready!
That night Timur checked at least five times – with a silver mirror – that there was no sign on his backside.
At daybreak - having said his prayers - the great ruler honoured in person Nasrudin’s modest dwelling and claimed the money:
“You lost, worm. I win, as I always do.”
“A bet is a bet, Master. Let’s see together.”
Tamerlane rose his tunic and let down for an instant his salwar. It was obvious that there was no mark of Gengis. The Mullah handed over the sack of one thousand acke. The Emir left very pleased with this easy win.
Later at court Nasrudin looked so curiously happy that Timur had to ask:
“Do you still have money left to look so satisfied?”
“Three times what I had before O, Lord of the fortunate conjunction of the stars!”
“How is that possible?”
“I lost one bet, with you, but I won another, Master. I bet with your Vizier, four thousand silver acke, that your Highness will let down his trousers in my presence.”
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