Peter the Great once heard that in a certain rich monastery there lived three hundred young monks in clover: drinking, eating sweetly, sleeping late, and doing no work at all. Peter learned of this and grew angry:
“How is this? All the people and I myself live in labor and care, with no time to rest. Neither by day nor by night is there peace—and here three hundred young and healthy men idle away their days, living like pigs in clover. They know neither care nor work, growing fat on free bread.”
And he ordered a messenger sent to the monastery:
“Go, tell the abbot: the Tsar has commanded that the stars in the sky be counted, that it be discovered how deep Mother Earth is, and that the abbot learn what I am thinking, what is on my mind, the Tsar’s. Give him three days. On the fourth day, let the abbot himself come to me with the answers. If he does not fulfill the command, I will send all the monks and the abbot himself to labor, and close the monastery.”
The abbot received the Tsar’s command and grew despondent, fell into sorrow:
“Oh, inevitable misfortune has come!”
He told the monks everything as it was. And the monks hung their heads. They thought and thought—and could devise nothing.
At that time, a retired soldier came into the monastery and asked:
“Why do you grieve, elders? You always lived without want, without sorrow—and now you have hung your heads.”
The monks answered him:
“Oh, soldier, you do not know our great grief! The Tsar has commanded us to solve three riddles and for the abbot to come to the palace with the answers in three days.”
“What riddles has the Tsar posed?” asked the soldier.
“We must count how many stars are in the sky, discover how deep the earth is, and say what is on the Tsar’s mind, what he is thinking.”
The soldier listened and said:
“If I knew how to answer the Tsar, I would be in your place.”
The monks ran to the abbot:
“The soldier undertakes to solve the riddles and give the Tsar his answers.”
The abbot begged the soldier:
“Take whatever you wish—only help us, teach us how to answer the Tsar!”
The retired soldier said:
“I need nothing. Just give me your clothes, and I will go to the Tsar in your place.”
The abbot rejoiced, and all the monks cheered up:
“Well, thank God, that misfortune has passed! Like a mountain off our shoulders!”
They began to feast the soldier:
“Drink, eat, whatever your soul desires.”
And they did not forget themselves—they feasted so well that they lay around recovering for a whole day afterward. And then the time came to go to the Tsar. The retired soldier dressed in the abbot’s clothes and went to the palace.
Peter asked:
“Well, have you solved the riddles?”
“I have, Your Majesty.”
“How many stars did you count in the sky?” asked the Tsar.
“Seven hundred forty-two thousand four hundred eighty-nine stars.”
“Are you telling the truth?”
“I, Your Majesty, counted correctly—and if you do not believe me, count them yourself, check.”
Peter smirked and asked:
“Very well, you have counted the stars correctly. But now tell me: how great is the earth’s depth?”
“The earth’s depth is very great.”
“And how did you learn this?”
“My father went into the earth—it will soon be thirty years now—and to this day has not returned. So the earth’s depth is very great.”
Peter smirked again:
“Well, now tell me: what am I thinking? What is on my mind, the Tsar’s?”
“You, sovereign, are now thinking: ‘Well done, this abbot! How cleverly he managed to answer all my riddles!'”
Peter burst out laughing and winked:
“You are right! Well done, abbot—you managed to answer everything!”
But the retired soldier said to this:
“Here is where you made a mistake, sovereign.”
Peter was amazed:
“How so? What mistake are you speaking of?”
“Just this: you took me, your retired soldier, for the abbot.”
Peter’s face grew stern. He began to question and learned who had given him the answers. The soldier told him the whole truth. Peter clutched his sides and laughed long—he was a laughing man—and immediately ordered the soldier rewarded, and the monks together with the abbot sent to heavy labor.