a mountebank was walking along the road.
he came to a bend in the road.
he met a traveling salesman.
can you tell me which road i should take to reach the city, the mountebank asked the salesman, and how many miles away it is?
the city is twenty miles away down that road, answered the salesman, but i would advise you not to take it, because the city is a wicked city.
thank you, replied the mountebank, and i appreciate your concern, but i think i will proceed on my way regardless.
do as you wish, said the salesman, i was only trying to be helpful.
and the mountebank proceeded down the road, as the salesman watched him go.
the mountebank walked along the road until he grew tired and he stopped under a tree by the side of the road and went to sleep.
the mountebank had a dream about a wolf.
the mountebank dreamed that he was the moon, and the wolf was howling at him.
the mountebank/moon laughed at the wolf and told him he was the most raggedy looking wolf he had ever seen, and to find some more useful occupation than howling in the middle of the road.
the wolf continued howling piteously until a butterfly came floating down the road.
the butterfly turned into a beautiful maiden, and kissed the wolf.
the wolf and the maiden then disappeared down the road to the wicked city, leaving the moon in the sky with his thoughts.
the mountebank woke up and went on his way.
he came to an inn.
three persons were seated at a table in front of the inn, being served by the innkeeper.
one of the persons was the salesman, who had told the mountebank not to take the road to the city, and who must have passed him on the road when the mountebank was sleeping.
another was the mountebank’s best friend, a flowerseller, whom he had not seen for many years.
the third person, a fool, was a complete stranger to the mountebank.
they invited the mountebank to sit down with them, and the accepted the offer.
i see you are not taking your own advice, the mountebank said to the salesman with a smile, but are headed to the city yourself.
not at all, replied the salesman with a smile of his own, i am only staying at the inn for the night, and then will take the next road, heading west, away from the city.
do not pay any attention to him, said the filowerseller, he is only pulling your leg.
yes, said the fool, they are both great liars and you should pay no attention to what either of them says.
and in any case, added the innkeeper, life is but a dream.
the mountebank was so confused by all this that he decided to stay the night at the inn and decide what do in the morning.
later that evening, as the four travelers were sitting at the dining table of the inn, they were served by the innkeeper’s beautiful daughter, and they all four fell in love her.
it was decided that the four of them would fight in the morning to decide which would carry off the beautiful maiden.
fortunately, there was a bare field behind the inn which suited their purpose perfectly.
and the innkeeper happened to have a supply off swords handy for them to fight with.
the mountebank and his old friend the flowerseller would fight the traveling salesman and the fool.
then, whichever pair was victorious was split up and fight each other .
and with that, all four travelers retired to their chambers to await the day’s combat.
a frightful storm assailed the inn with rain and wind during the night.
all four travelers experienced frightful dreams.
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