The shepherd took his flute and began
to play. His master began to dance so that the bushes brought blood upon
him. He returned home.
"Who scratched you so?" asked his wife.
"The servant played on the flute, and I began to dance."
"That is a lie," said she; "people don't dance against their will."
"Well," answered the husband, "tie me to this post and make the servant
play."
She tied him to the post and the servant took the flute. Our man began to
dance. He struck his head against a nail in the post and died. The son of
the dead man said to the servant:
"Pay me for the loss of my father."
They went before the cadi. On the way they met a laborer, who asked them
where they were going.
"Before the cadi."
"Could you tell me why?"
"This man killed my father," answered the son of the dead man.
"It was not I that killed him," answered the shepherd; "I played on the
flute, he danced and died."
"That is a lie!" cried the laborer. "I will not dance against my will. Take
your flute and we shall see if I dance."
The shepherd took his flute.
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