PETITON
Then the swineherd opened the bag.
“Thank you, Swineherd."
"My friend, there is nothing wrong. But what you don't want, I would accept with a good heart. Listen. Let's make a trade. Take my herd of a thousand pigs, and lock me in your bag. So, I will marry the king's daughter, the princess as beautiful as the day, and as rich as Peru."
"Swineherd, with pleasure. But let's hurry. The king's two servants may return at any moment."
Two minutes later, the swineherd lay on the ground, locked in the bag, and Petiton left, with his herd of a thousand pigs.
He was not a hundred paces away when the two scoundrel cattle dealers returned for their evil work. Without pretending anything, Petiton watched them. Arriving at the edge of the Garonne, they opened the bag, threw a large stone into it, threw it into the water, and fled, as if the Devil were carrying them away.
But Petiton swam like a barbel. He jumped into the Garonne, fished out the bag, and freed the swineherd.
" Thank you, my friend. You promised me better than that."
"Swineherd, I promised you according to what I believed."
"My friend, I don't blame you for anything. You saved my life. Take half of my herd of a thousand pigs."
"Swineherd, with pleasure."
Once the division was done, everyone drew their own way. While following the Garonne, with his animals, Petiton met, three leagues further, the two scoundrel cattle dealers. So he pulled his beret back over his eyes, so as not to be recognized.
"Hello, my friends."
"Hello, swineherd. Are these beautiful pigs yours?"
"Yes, my friends. There are five hundred of them."
"Swineherd, where did you buy them?"
"My friends, I bought them at the Valence-d’Agen fair."
"Pigherd, how much did you pay them?"
Petiton lifted his beret over his eyes.
“My friends, I paid them the right one, the reason."
The two scoundrel cattle dealers backed away in horror.
“My friends, do not be afraid. I won't kill you. I will not report you to the courts. By trying to drown me in the Garonne, you made my fortune, without meaning to. At the bottom of the water, pigs live by the millions. I'm bringing back five hundred, and I won't be satisfied with so little."
"Petiton, are you telling the truth?"
"My friends, believe me, if you want. I'm going to sell my five hundred pigs in Agen. As soon as I'm done, I dive back in to get some more."
Petiton spoke with such an air of truth that the two scoundrel dealers were no longer suspicious.
“Petiton, we are going to do like you."
"Good luck, my friends. Dive. I swim like a barbel. Dive. I'm here for you if something bad happens to you."
The two scoundrel cattle dealers jumped into the Garonne.
"Help! Petiton! Help! »
Petiton was bursting with laughter.
“Drink, you rascals! Drink, bandits!"
The two scoundrel cattle dealers drowned, and we never, ever heard of them again. Petiton returned to his mother and soon got married, to a girl as beautiful as the day. He lived a long, happy, and wealthy life with his wife and children.
Cric, Cric,
My tale is done.
Cric, Crac,
My tale is finished.
Source: Petiton, from the French book Contes populaires de la Gascogne, tome 3, published in 1886
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
Hello, my name is Vincent Celier.
I am writing translations of folk tales that I found in public domain French books, so that people who do not understand French may enjoy them too.
The two scoundrel cattle dealers threw the bag in the river, thinking that it was Petiton that they were killing.
Fortunately for the swineherd, Petiton was able to rescue the swineherd who rewarded him with half of his pigs.
And that is what enables Petiton to exercise the ultimate revenge toward the two scoundrels.
At the beginning of the tale, Petiton is overconfident, but at the end, it is the two cattle dealers who are overconfident, believing everything that Petiton tells them.
This tale is the last one I am translating from the French book Contes populaires de la Gascogne, tome 3.
There are plenty of other tales in this book, but they are either too short or refer to parts of the popular French culture that are not conveyed in a translation.
Tomorrow, I will start to translate other tales and legends from the French book Contes et légendes de Basse-Bretagne (Tales and Legends from Lower Brittany) published in 1891.
My mother was born in Brest in 1921, which is 30 years after the publication of this book. Her grandmother was living in a big house in the center of Lower Brittany. I am sure that my mother read some legends similar to the ones I will translate when she was a child.
-- Vincent Celier