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A dragon's tale
Cracovians lived happily, ruled by the good-natured Krak, the legendary founder of the town... until a dragon came from some grim place in the North, to live in a cave under the Wawel castle, by the river! He made himself a nice little den in limestone, which you can still see nowadays: sufficiently cold, wet and gloomy for a dragon's liking, especially if the dragon comes from the North... The trouble was, the fire-breathing monster had a very particular diet: he ate mainly virgins -- well, sometimes he would make do with a dozen of geese or a cow, but these didn't really satisfy him. For him, a girl a day was the cornerstone of a nutritious diet. Cracovians despaired... but the King did not do much until the only virgin left in town was his own daughter -- typical, isn't it? The princess was just about to be snatched by the dragon, but Krak managed to delay the meal by sending for help from the most skilful of princes and knights from all the neighbouring lands. The reward for killing the dragon wasn't particularly original: half of the kingdom with the bonus of the princess for a wife (of course she was beautiful!) Although the knights and princes were basically useless, killing them kept the dragon busy for a while (they also made his stomach upset, causing him to grow more and more impatient). And just as previously they ran out of ladies young and pure, so they now ran out of young lads of noble blood who were willing to challenge the dragon... After a sleepless night at the palace, when the dragon was digesting the very last brave warrior in his den below, a young man came to see the King. He was a shoemaker and had a Plan. It was as simple as it was brilliant. His idea was to stuff a sheep's skin with sulfur and tar, sew it together, and put the thing in front of the dragon's cave. And so he did. When the dragon woke up in the morning, his first thought was: "breakfast," and he swallowed the sheep in one gulp. His mouth was burning! He ran to the river, and started to drink. He drank, and drank, and drank.... until he guzzled half of the river, and then -- bang! -- he exploded. The story gets a little muddled here. Apparently the shoemaker wasn't interested in either the princess nor half of the kingdom. He left town, who knows? He might have gone on a journey around the world, and in those days that would have taken years to complete. Predictable jokes say that if the dragon really ate only virgins, nowadays he would have starved to death. Don't believe a word of it. The dragon wasn't forgotten and his images can be found all around town: by the river, where its iron statue spits fire at the entrance to the dragon's den; in the castle where the copper gutters are decorated with dragon heads, their mouths wide open. Recently, on the occasion of a summer festival, giant colourful dragons were dancing in the streets of Cracow, harmless in the rain of fireworks. |