He said to the first, “Young man, how do you know that I am a slave?” “Because you went out as soon as the repast was brought in.”  He asked the second, “How do you know that the meat which was served was that of a dog?” “Because it has a disagreeable taste like the flesh of a dog.”  Then to the third:  “How come you to know that this bread was grown over the limbs of a dead person?” “What shall I say?  It smells of the limbs of a dead body; that is why I recognised it.  If you do not believe me, ask your slave; he will tell you that what I say is true.”

In the same paper (col. 516) M. Rene Basset cites a somewhat elaborate variant, from Stier’s “Ungarische Sagen und Marchen,” in which, once more, the knowledge of the “quintessence of things” is concentrated in a single individual.

Hungarianversion

A clever Magyar is introduced with his companions in disguise into the camp of the king of the Tatars, who is menacing his country.  The prince, suspicious, causes him to be carefully watched by his mother, a skilful sorceress.  They brought in the evening’s repast.  “What good wine the prince has!” said she.  “Yes,” replied one, “but it contains human blood.”  The sorceress took not of the bed from whence these words proceeded, and when all were asleep she deftly cut a lock of hair from him who had spoken, crept stealthily out of the room, and brought this mark to her son. the strangers started up, and when our hero discovered what had been done to him, he cut a lock from all, to render his decision impossible.  When they came to dinner, the king knew not from whom the lock had been taken.  The following night the mother of the prince again slipped into the room, and said, “What good bread has the prince of the Tatars!” “Very good,” replied one, “it is made with the milk of a woman.”  When all were asleep, she cut a little off the moustache of him who was lying in the bed from which the voice proceeded.  This time the Magyars were still more on the alert, and when they were apprised of the matter, they all cut a little from their moustaches, so that next morning the prince found himself again foiled.  The third night the old lady hid herself, and said in a loud voice, “What a handsome man is the prince of the Tatars!” “Yes,” said one, “but he is a bastard.”  When all were asleep, the old lady made a mark on the visor of the helmet of the one from whence had come the words, and then acquainted her son of what she had done.  In the morning the prince perceived that all the helmets were similarly marked.[FN#502] At length he refrained, and said, “I see that there is among you a master greater than myself; that is why I desire very earnestly to know him.  He may make himself known; I should like to see and know this extraordinary man, who is more clever and powerful than myself.”  The young man started up from his seat and said, “I have not wished to be stronger or wiser than yourself.  I have