THIRD DAY.
Ere all the Shades, imprisoned by the tribunal of Night, were liberated by the visit of the Sun, the Prince and his wife, together with the women, returned to the customary spot, to pass pleasantly the hours from morning until dinner-time. Then they summoned the musicians, and began to dance with great delight the 'Roggiero,' 'Villanella,' 'The story of the Ogre,' 'Sfessania,' 'The countryman thrashed,' 'The whole day long with that Dove,' 'Blue-bottle Fly,' 'Nymphs' Dance,' 'The Gipsy,' 'The Coquette,' 'My bright Star,' 'My sweet amorous flame,' 'She whom I seek,' 'The pretty girl and the pretty little girl,' 'Up and down,' 'The Chiaranzana,' 'Take care of him who enamours me,' 'The clouds that skim through the air,' 'The Devil in a shirt,' 'To live upon hope,' 'Change hands,' 'The Cascarda,'[1] 'Spagnoletta,' concluding the dances with Lucia Canazza, to amuse the Slave. Thus the time ran swiftly away, and ere they were aware the dinner-hour had arrived, when there appeared all the good things under heaven, which may perhaps be eaten still. And when the tables were removed, Zeza, who was on thorns of impatience to tell her story, began in the following manner.
1. 'The Cascade.' Probably some dance in which the couples advance and "cast off,"—as in "Sir Roger de Coverly." Some of these dances are perhaps named from the first line of songs, to the tune of which they were danced. See Notes at the end of this volume.
CANNETELLA.
It is an evil thing, my Lord, to seek for better than wheaten bread; for a man comes at last to desire what others throw away, and must content himself with honesty. He who loses all, and walks on the tops of the trees, has as much madness in his head as danger under his feet; as was the case with the daughter of a king, who is the subject of the story I have now to tell you.
There was once on a time a king of High-Hill, who longed for children more than the porters do for a funeral, that they may gather wax[1]; insomuch that he made a vow to the goddess Syrinx, that if she would cause him to have a daughter, he would name her Cannetella, to commemorate her having been turned into a reed[2]. And he prayed and prayed, until at length he found favour, and his wife Renzolla presented him with a little girl, to whom he gave the name he had promised.
The child grew by palms, and when she was as tall as a pole, the king said to her, "My daughter, you are now grown (Heaven bless you!) as large as an oak, and it is full time to provide you with a husband worthy of that pretty face. Since therefore I love you as my own life, and desire to please you, tell me I pray what sort of a husband you would like, what kind of a man would suit your fancy? Will you have him a scholar or a dunce? a boy, or a man in years? brown, or fair and ruddy? tall as a maypole, or short as a spigot? small in the waist, or round as an ox? Do you choose, and I am satisfied."
Cannetella, hearing these lavish offers, thanked her father, but told him that she would on no account encumber herself with a husband. However, being urged by the king again and again, she said, "Not to show myself ungrateful for so much love, I am willing to comply with your wish, provided I have such a man as that he has no like in the world."
Her father, delighted beyond measure at hearing this, took his station at the window from morning till evening, looking out and surveying, measuring and examining every one that passed along the street. And one day seeing a good-looking man go by, the king said to his daughter, "Run, look out, Cannetella! and see if yon man comes up to the measure of your wishes." Then she desired him to be brought up, and they made a most splendid banquet for him, at which there was everything he could desire. And as they were feasting away, an almond fell out of the youth's mouth, whereupon stooping down, he picked it up dextrously from the ground and put it under the cloth; and when they had done eating, he went away. Then the king said to Cannetella, "Well, my life, how does this youth please you?"—"Take the fellow away!" said she; "a man so tall and so big as he should never have let an almond drop out of his mouth."
When the king heard this he returned to his place at the window, and presently seeing another well-shaped youth pass by, he called his daughter, to hear whether this one pleased her. Then Cannetella desired him to be shown up; so he was called, and another entertainment was made. And when they had done eating, and the man had gone away, the king asked his daughter whether he had pleased her; whereupon she replied, "What in the world should I do with such a miserable fellow, who wants at least to have a couple of servants with him to take off his cloak?"
"If that be the case," said the king, "it is plain that these are merely the excuses of a bad paymaster, and you are only looking for pretexts to refuse me this pleasure. So resolve quickly, for I am determined to have you married." To these angry words Cannetella replied, "To tell you the truth plainly[3], papa, and as I really feel, you are digging in the sea and making a wrong reckoning on your fingers; for I never will subject myself to any man living who has not a golden head and teeth." The poor king, seeing his daughter's head thus turned, issued a proclamation, bidding any one in his kingdom who should answer to Cannetella's wishes to appear, and he would give him his daughter and the kingdom.
Now this king had a mortal enemy named Fioravante, whom he could not bear to see so much as even painted on a wall, who, when he heard of this proclamation, being a cunning magician, called a parcel of that evil brood to him, and commanded them forthwith to make his head and teeth of gold. So they did as he desired; and when he saw himself with a head and teeth of pure gold[4], he walked past under the window of the king, who when he saw the very man he was looking for, called his daughter: and as soon as Cannetella set eyes upon him, she cried out, "Ay, that is he! he could not be better if I had kneaded him with my own hands."
When Fioravante was getting up to go away, the king said to him, "Wait a little, brother,—why in such a hurry? one would think you had a pledge in the hands of a Jew, or quicksilver in your body, or a branch of furze tied behind you. Fair and softly! I will give you my daughter, and baggage and servants to accompany you, for I wish her to be your wife."
"I thank you," said Fioravante, "but there is no necessity: a single horse is enough, if the beast will carry double; for at home I have servants and goods as numerous as the sands on the seashore." So after arguing awhile, Fioravante at last prevailed, and placing Cannetella behind him on a horse he set out.
In the evening, when the red horses are taken away from the corn-mill of the sky, and the white oxen are yoked in their place, they came to a stable where some horses were feeding; and leading Cannetella into it, Fioravante said to her, "Listen! I have to make a journey to my own house, and it will take me seven years to get there. Mind therefore and wait for me in this stable, and do not stir out, nor let yourself be seen by any living person, or else I will make you remember it as long as you live." Cannetella replied, "You are my lord and master, and I will perform your command to a tittle; but I should like merely to know what you will leave me to live upon in the meantime." And Fioravante answered, "What the horses leave of their corn will be enough for you."
Only conceive how poor Cannetella now felt, and guess whether she did not curse the hour and the moment when she was born! cold and frozen, she made up with her tears what she wanted in food, cursing her fate and abusing the stars, which had brought her down from a royal palace to a stable, from mattresses of Barbary wool to straw, and from nice delicate morsels to the leavings of horses. And she led this miserable life for several months, during which time corn was given to the horses by an unseen hand, and what they left supported her.
But at the end of this time, as she was standing one day looking through a hole, she saw a most beautiful garden, in which there were so many espaliers of lemons, and grottos of citrons, and beds of flowers, and fruit-trees and trellises of vines, that it was a joy to behold. At this sight a great longing seized her for a fine bunch of grapes that caught her eye, and she said to herself, "Come what will, and if the sky fall, I will go out silently and softly and pluck it: what will it matter a hundred years hence? who is there to tell my husband? and should he by chance hear of it, what will he do to me? moreover these grapes are none of the common sort." So saying she went out, and refreshed her spirits, which were weakened by hunger.
A little while afterwards, and before the appointed time, her husband came back, and one of his horses accused Cannetella of having taken the grapes; whereat Fioravante in a rage, drawing a knife from his breeches pocket, was going to kill her; but falling on her knees upon the ground, she besought him to stay his hand from the deed, since hunger drives the wolf from the wood. And she begged so hard, that Fioravante replied, "I forgive you this time, and grant you your life out of charity; but if ever again you are tempted to disobey me, and I find that you have let the sun see you, I will make mincemeat of you. Now mind me,—I am going away once more, and shall for certain be gone seven years; so take care and plough straight, for you will not escape so easily again, but I shall pay you off the new and the old scores together."
So saying he departed, and Cannetella shed a river of tears; and wringing her hands, beating her breast, and tearing her hair, she cried, "Oh that ever I was born into the world, to be destined to this wretched fate! O father, how have you ruined me! but why do I complain of my father, when I have brought this ill upon myself? I alone am the cause of my misfortunes. Here have I been wishing for a head of gold, only to fall into trouble[5] and die by iron. Alas, how richly I deserve it! by wishing my teeth of gold, I am making the golden tooth. This is the punishment of Heaven, for I ought to have done my father's will, and not have had such whims and fancies: he who minds not what his father and mother say, goes a road he does not know."
Not a day passed that she did not make this lament, until her eyes were become two fountains, and her face was so thin and sallow that it went to one's heart to see her. Where now were those sparkling eyes? where those rosy apples? where the little smile upon that mouth? her own father would not have known her.
At the end of a year the king's locksmith, whom Cannetella knew, happening to pass by the stable, she called to him, and went out. The smith hearing himself called by his name, and not recognizing the poor girl (she was so altered), was in utter amazement; but when he heard who she was, and how she had become thus changed, partly out of pity for the maiden and partly to gain the king's favour, he put her into an empty cask, which he had with him on a pack-horse, and trotting off towards High-Hill, he arrived at midnight at the king's palace. Then he knocked at the door, and the servants, going to the window and hearing that it was the locksmith, fell to abusing him soundly, calling him an ill-mannered fellow for coming at such an hour to disturb the sleep of the whole house; adding, that he would come off cheaply if they did not pelt him with stones and give him a broken pate.
The king, hearing the uproar, and being told by a chamberlain what was the matter, ordered the smith to be instantly admitted; judging that since he made bold to come at such an unusual hour, something extraordinary must have happened. Then the smith, unloading his beast, knocked out the head of the cask, and forth came Cannetella, who required something more than words to make her father recognize her; and had it not been for a wart on her right arm, she might have taken herself off. But as soon as he was assured of the whole truth, he embraced her and kissed her a thousand times; then he instantly commanded a warm bath to be got ready, and when she was washed from head to foot, and had drest herself, he ordered breakfast to be brought, for she was dying with hunger. Then her father said to her, "Who would ever have told me, my child, that I should see you in this plight? what a face indeed! who has brought you to this sad condition?" And she answered, "Alas, my dear sir! that Barbary Turk has made me lead the life of a dog, so that I was every hour on the point of giving up the ghost[6]. But I will not tell you all I have suffered, for greatly as it exceeds human endurance, so much does it pass human belief. Enough, my father, that I am here! and never again will I stir from your feet; rather will I be a servant in your house, than a queen in the house of another; rather will I wear sackcloth where you are, than a golden mantle away from you; rather will I turn a spit in your kitchen, than hold a sceptre under the canopy of another."
Meanwhile Fioravante returning home, was told by the horses that the locksmith had carried off Cannetella in the cask; on hearing which, burning with shame and all on fire with rage, of he ran towards High-Hill; and meeting an old woman who lived opposite to the king's palace, he said to her, "What will you take, good mother, to let me see the king's daughter?" Then she asked a hundred ducats; and Fioravante putting his hand in his purse instantly counted them out, one a-top of another; whereupon the old woman led him up on to the roof, from whence he saw Cannetella out on a balcony drying her hair. But—just as if her heart had whispered to her—the maiden turned that way, and perceiving the snare, rushed down the stairs and ran to her father, crying out, "My lord, if you do not this very instant make me a chamber with seven iron doors, I am lost and undone!"
"I will not lose you for such a trifle," said her father; "I would pluck out an eye to gratify such a dear daughter." So, no sooner said than done, the doors were instantly made.
When Fioravante heard of this, he went again to the old woman, and said to her, "What shall I give you now? go to the king's house under pretext of selling cups of rouge, and entering the room where his daughter is, contrive to slip this little piece of paper among the bed-clothes, saying in an under tone as you place it there,
'Let every one now soundly sleep,
But Cannetella awake shall keep!'"
So the old woman agreed for another hundred ducats, and she served him faithfully. Woe to him who allows these vile jades to come to his house! for under the pretence of carrying about articles of dress, they dress your very life and honour into morocco-leather.
Now as soon as the old woman had done this good office, such a sound sleep fell on the people of the house, that they seemed just as if they had all their throats cut. Cannetella alone remained awake, and when she heard the doors bursting open, she began to cry aloud as if she were burnt; but no one heard her—there was no one to run to her aid; so Fioravante threw down all the seven doors, and entering the chamber seized up Cannetella, bed-clothes and all, to carry her off; but as luck would have it, the paper which the old woman had put among them fell on the ground, and the powder was spilt; whereupon the people of the house awoke, and hearing Cannetella's shrieks, they ran—cats, dogs, and all—and laying hold on the ogre, quickly cut him in pieces like a pickled tunny. Thus he was caught in the same trap that he had prepared for poor Cannetella, learning to his cost that
"No one suffereth greater pain
Than he who by his own weapon is slain."
When Zeza had ended her story, all were of opinion that Cannetella deserved this, and even worse, for seeking a hair inside the egg: they rejoiced however to see her at length freed from all her troubles, and observed, that she who had held her head so high and scorned all men, was brought at last to humble herself to a smith, and beg him to help her out of trouble. But the desire to hear Ciulla put a stop to the conversation, and the ears of all present stood erect at the motion of her lips.
1. At funerals and in public processions the poor people pick up the wax that falls from the tapers, and the flowers that are dropt by the way.
2. Canna
3. Fora de li diente—'out of the teeth.' In Ireland folks say in like manner 'out of the face.'
4. Literally, 'four-and-twenty carats fine'—the standard of pure gold.
5. Literally, pe cadere 'nchiummo—'to fall into lead.'
6. Co lo spireto a li diente,—'with the breath between my teeth.'
CORVETTO.
I once heard say, that Juno went to Candia to find Falsehood; but if any one were to ask me where fraud and hypocrisy might truly be found, I should know of no other place to name than the Court, where detraction always wears the mask of amusement, slander goes drest as a Graziano[1], treachery as a Zany, and villainy as a Polichinello; where at the same time people cut and sew up, wound and heal, break and glue together; of which I will give you only one instance, in the story which I am going to tell you.
There was once upon a time in the service of the King of Wide-River an excellent youth named Corvetto, who for his good conduct was beloved by his master, and for this very cause was disliked and hated by all the courtiers; in fact they were such bats of ignorance, that they could not see the lustre of the virtue of Corvetto, who purchased his master's favour with the ready money of good behaviour. But the zephyrs of the kindness which the king showed Corvette were sciroccos to the spite and malice of these courtiers, who were bursting with envy; so that all the day long, in every corner of the palace, they did nothing but tattle and whisper, murmur and grumble at the poor lad, saying, "What sorcery has this fellow[2] practised on the king, that he takes such a fancy to him? how comes he by this luck, that not a day passes but he receives some new favours, whilst we are for ever going backwards like the rope-maker, and getting from bad to worse, though we slave like dogs, sweat like field-labourers, and race about like deer, to hit the king's pleasure to a hair? Truly one must be born to good fortune in this world, and he who has not luck may as well throw himself into the sea. What is to be done? we can only look on and burst."
These and other words flew from the bow of their mouth, like poisoned arrows aimed at the butt of Corvetto's ruin. Alas for him who is condemned to that infernal den the court, where flattery is sold by kilderkins, malignity and ill offices are measured out in bushels, deceit and treachery are weighed by the ton! But who can count all the bits of orange-peel these courtiers put under his feet to make him slip, or tell the soap of falseness with which they besmeared the ladder to the king's ears, to make Corvette fall and break his neck? who can tell the pitfalls of deceit dug in the king's brain, and covered over with the sticks and straws of pretended zeal, to make him tumble? But Corvetto, who was enchanted, and perceived the traps and discovered the tricks, was aware of all the nets, and was up to all the intrigues, the ambuscades, the plots and conspiracies of his enemies, kept his ears always on the alert and his eyes open, in order not to set a false step, well knowing that the fortune of courtiers is glass. But the higher the lad continued to rise, the lower the others fell; and at last being puzzled to know how to take him off his feet, as their slander was not believed, they thought of leading him to a precipice by the path of flattery (an art invented in a certain hot house, and perfected in the court), which they attempted in the following manner.
Ten miles distant from Scotland, where the seat of this king was, there dwelt an ogre, the most inhuman and savage that had ever been in ogre-land, who, being persecuted by the king, had fortified himself in a lonesome wood on the top of a mountain, where no bird ever flew, and which was so thick and tangled that it could never get a sight of the sun. This ogre had a most beautiful horse, which looked as if it were formed with a pencil; and amongst other wonderful things was that it could speak like any man. Now the courtiers, who knew how wicked the ogre was, how thick the wood, how high the mountain, and how difficult it was to get at the horse, went to the king, and telling him minutely the perfections of the animal, which was a thing worthy of a king, added that he ought to endeavour by all means to get it out of the ogre's claws, and that Corvetto was just the lad to do this, as he was expert and clever at escaping out of the fire. The king, who knew not that under the flowers of these words a serpent was concealed, instantly called Corvetto, and said to him, "If you love me, see that in some way or another you obtain for me the horse of my enemy the ogre, and you shall have no cause to regret having done me this service."
Corvetto knew well that this drum was sounded by those who wished him ill; nevertheless, to obey the king, he set out and took the road to the mountain; then going very quietly to the ogre's stable, he saddled and mounted the horse, and fixing his feet firmly in the stirrup took his way back. But as soon as the horse saw himself spurred out of the palace, he cried aloud, "Hollo! be on your guard! Corvetto is riding off with me." At this alarm the ogre instantly set out, with all the animals that served him, to cut Corvetto in pieces: from this side jumped an ape, from that was seen a large bear, here sprang forth a lion, there came running a wolf. But the youth, by the aid of bridle and spur, distanced the mountain, and galloping without stop to the city, arrived at the court, where he presented the horse to the king.
Then the king embraced him more than a son, and pulling out his purse filled his hands with crown-pieces. At this the rage of the courtiers knew no bounds; and whereas at first they were pulled up with a little pipe, they were now bursting with the blasts of a smith's bellows; seeing that the crowbars with which they thought to lay Corvetto's good fortune in ruins, only served to smooth the road to his prosperity. Knowing however that walls are not levelled by the first attack of the battering-ram, they resolved to try their luck a second time, and said to the king, "We wish you joy of the beautiful horse! it will indeed be an ornament to the royal stable; but what a pity you have not the ogre's tapestry, which is a thing more beautiful than words can tell, and would spread your fame far and wide! there is no one however able to procure this treasure but Corvetto, who is just the lad to do such a kind of service."
Then the king, who danced to every tune, and ate only the peel of this bitter but sugared fruit, called Corvetto, and begged him to procure for him the ogre's tapestry. Off went Corvetto, and in four seconds was on the top of the mountain where the ogre lived: then passing unseen into the chamber in which he slept, he hid himself under the bed, and waited as still as a mouse, until Night, to make the Stars laugh, puts a carnival-mask on the face of the Sky. And as soon as the ogre and his wife were gone to bed, Corvetto stripped the walls of the chamber very quietly, and wishing to steal the counterpane of the bed likewise, he began to pull it gently. Thereupon the ogre, suddenly starting up, told his wife not to pull so, for she was dragging all the clothes off him, and would give him his death of cold.
"Why you are uncovering me!" answered the ogress; "there's not a thing left upon me!"
"Where the deuce is the counterpane?" replied the ogre; and stretching out his hand to the floor, he touched Corvetto's face; whereupon he set up a loud cry, "The monaciello! the monaciello! hollo, here, lights! run quickly!" till the whole house was turned topsy-turvy with the noise. But Corvetto, after throwing the clothes out of the window, let himself drop down upon them. Then making up a good bundle, he set out on the road to the city, where the reception he met with from the king, and the vexation of the courtiers, who were bursting with spite, are not to be told. Nevertheless they laid a plan to fall upon Corvetto with the rear-guard of their roguery, and went again to the king, who was almost beside himself with delight at the tapestry, which was not only of silk embroidered with gold, but had besides more than a thousand devices and thoughts worked on it; and amongst the rest, if I remember right, there was a cock in the act of crowing at daybreak, and out of its mouth was seen coming a motto in Tuscan,—If I only see you[3]; and in another part a drooping heliotrope with a Tuscan motto, At sunset; with so many other pretty things that it would require a better memory and more time than I have to relate them.
When the courtiers came to the king, who was thus transported with joy, they said to him, "As Corvetto has done so much to serve you, it would be no great matter for him, in order to give you a signal pleasure, to get the ogre's palace, which is fit for an emperor to live in; for it has so many rooms and chambers, inside and out, that it can hold an army; and you would never believe all the courtyards, porticos, colonnades, balconies, and spiral chimneys which there are, built with such marvellous architecture, that art prides herself upon them, nature is abashed, and stupor is in delight."
The king, who had a fruitful brain which conceived quickly, called Corvetto again, and telling him the great longing that had seized him for the ogre's palace, begged him to add this service to all the others he had done him, promising to score it up with the chalk of gratitude at the tavern of memory. So Corvetto, who was a brimstone match and made a hundred miles an hour, instantly set out heels over head; and arriving at the ogre's palace, he found that the ogress had just given birth to a fine little ogreling; and whilst her husband was gone to invite the kinsfolk, she had got out of bed, and was busying herself with preparing the feast. Then Corvetto entering, with a look of compassion, said, "Good-day, my good woman! truly you are a brave housewife! but why do you torment the very life out of you in this way? only yesterday you were put to bed, and now you are slaving thus, and have no pity on your own flesh."
"What would you have me do?" replied the ogress, "I have no one to help me."
"I am here," answered Corvetto, "ready to help you tooth and nail."
"Welcome then!" said the ogress; "and as you proffer me so much kindness, just help me to split four logs of wood."
"With all my heart," answered Corvetto; "but if four logs are not enow, let me split five." And taking up a newly-ground axe, instead of striking the wood, he struck the ogress on the neck, and made her fall to the ground like a pear. Then running quickly to the gate, he dug a deep hole before the entrance, and covering it over with bushes and earth, he hid himself behind the gate.
As soon as Corvetto saw the ogre coming with his kinsfolk, he set up a loud cry in the courtyard, "Stop, stop! I've caught him!" and "Long live the king of Wide-River!" When the ogre heard this challenge, he ran like mad at Corvetto, to make a hash of him; but rushing furiously towards the gate, down he tumbled with all his companions, head over heels to the bottom of the pit, where Corvetto speedily stoned them to death. Then he shut the door, and took the keys to the king, who seeing the valour and cleverness of the lad, in spite of ill-fortune and the envy and annoyance of the courtiers, gave him his daughter to wife; so that the crosses of envy had proved rollers to launch Corvetto's bark of life on the sea of greatness; whilst his enemies remained confounded and bursting with rage, and went to bed without a candle; for
"The punishment of ill deeds past,
Though long delay'd, yet comes at last."
There were courtiers in plenty around the Prince who would have betrayed their anger at seeing him touched to the quick by this story, had they not possessed the art of dissembling; nor could they say which was greatest, their vexation at hearing themselves upbraided for their roguery, or their envy at Corvetto's happiness. But Paola now began to speak, and drew their soul out of the well of their own feelings with the book of these words.
1. A clown.
2. Sto caccia-l'appascere—a name for a booby; because the greatest fools were commonly "sent to tend" the swine, &c.
3. There is a play upon the words in the Italian,—"Sol (Sun) ch'io ti miri!"
THE BOOBY.
An ignorant man who associates with clever people has always been more praised than a wise man who keeps the company of fools; for as much profit and fame as one may gain from the former, so much wealth and honour one may lose by the fault of the latter; and as the proof of the pudding is in the eating[1], you will know from the story which I am going to tell you whether my proposition be true.
There was once a man who was as rich as the sea, but as there can never be any perfect happiness in this world, he had a son so idle and good-for-nothing that he could not tell a carob from a cucumber. So being unable any longer to put up with his folly, he gave him a good handful of crowns, and sent him to trade in the Levant; for he well knew that seeing various countries and mixing with divers people awaken the genius, sharpen the judgement, and make men expert.
Moscione (for that was the name of the son) got on horseback, and began his journey towards Venice, the arsenal of the wonders of the world, to embark on board some vessel bound for Cairo; and when he had travelled a good day's journey, he met with a person who was standing fixed at the foot of a poplar, to whom he said, "What is your name, my lad? whence are you? and what is your trade?" And the lad replied, "My name is Lightning; I am from Arrowland, and I can run like the wind."—"I should like to see a proof of it," said Moscione; and Lightning answered, "Wait a moment, and you will see whether it is dust or flour."
When they had stood waiting a little while, a doe came bounding over the plain, and Lightning, letting her pass on some way, to give her the more law, darted after her so rapidly and light of foot, that he would have gone over a place covered with flour without leaving the mark of his shoe, and in four bounds he came up with her. Moscione, amazed at this exploit, asked if he would come and live with him, and promised to pay him royally.
So Lightning consented, and they went on their way together; but they had not journeyed many miles when they met another youth, to whom Moscione said, "What is your name, comrade? what country are you from? and what's your trade?" "My name," replied the lad, "is Hare's-ear; I am from Vale-Curious; and when I put my ear to the ground I hear all that is passing in the world without stirring from the spot. I perceive the monopolies and agreements of tradespeople to raise the prices of things, the ill-offices of courtiers, the appointments of lovers, the plots of robbers, the reports of spies, the complaints of servants, the gossiping of old women, and the oaths of sailors; so that neither Lucian's cock[2] nor Franco's lantern discovered so much as my ears can."
"If that be true," said Moscione, "tell me what they are now saying at my home."
So the lad put his ear to the ground, and replied, "An old man is talking to his wife, and saying, 'Praised be Sol in Leo! I have got rid from my sight of that fellow Moscione, that face of old-fashioned crockery, that nail in my heart. By travelling through the world he will at least become a man, and no longer be such a stupid ass, such a simpleton, such a lose-the-day fellow, such a—"
"Stop, stop!" cried Moscione; "you tell the truth, and I believe you. So come along with me, for you have found the road to good-luck."
"Well and good!" said the youth. So they all went on together and travelled ten miles further, when they met another man, to whom Moscione said, "What is your name, my brave fellow? where were you born? and what can you do in the world?" And the man answered, "My name is Shootstraight; I am from Castle Aimwell; and I can shoot with a crossbow so point-blank as to hit a crab-apple in the middle."
"I should like to see the proof," said Moscione. So the lad charged his crossbow, took aim, and made a pea leap from the top of a stone; whereupon Moscione took him also like the others into his company. And they travelled on another day's journey, till they came to some people who were building a large pier in the scorching heat of the sun, and who might well say, "Boy, put water to the wine, for my heart is burning." So Moscione had compassion on them, and said, "My masters, how is it you have the head to stand in this furnace, which is fit to roast a buffalo?" And one of them answered, "Oh, we are as cool as a rose; for we have a young man here who blows upon us from behind in such a manner that it seems just as if the west wind were blowing." "Let me see him, I pray," cried Moscione. So the mason called the lad, and Moscione said to him, "Tell me, by the life of your father, what is your name? what country are you from? and what is your profession?" And the lad replied, "My name is Blowblast; I am from Windy-land; and I can make all the winds with my mouth. If you wish for a zephyr, I will breathe one that will send you into transports; if you wish for a squall, I will throw down houses."
"Seeing is believing," said Moscione. Whereupon Blowblast breathed at first quite gently, so that it seemed to be the wind that blows at Posilippo towards evening; then turning suddenly to some trees, he sent forth such a furious blast that it uprooted a row of oaks.
When Moscione saw this he took him for a companion; and travelling on as far again, he met another lad, to whom he said, "What is your name, if I may make so bold? whence are you, if one may ask? and what is your trade, if it is a fair question?" And the lad answered, "My name is Strongback; I am from Valentino, and I have such strength that I can take a mountain on my back, and it seems to me only a feather."
"If that be the case," said Moscione, "you deserve to be the king of the custom-house, and you should be chosen for standard-bearer on the first of May[3]. But I should like to see a proof of what you say."
Then Strongback began to load himself with masses of rock, trunks of trees, and so many other weights, that a thousand large waggons could not have carried them; which when Moscione saw, he agreed with the lad to join him.
So they travelled on, till they came to Fair-Flower, the king of which place had a daughter who ran like the wind, and could pass over the waving corn without bending an ear; and the king had issued a proclamation, that whoever could overtake her in running should have her to wife, but whoever was left behind should lose his head.
When Moscione arrived in this country, and heard the proclamation, he went straight to the king, and offered to run with his daughter, making the wise agreement either to win the race or leave his noddle there. But in the morning he sent to inform the king that he was taken ill, and being unable to run himself, he would send another young man in his place. "Come who will!" said Ciannetella (for that was the king's daughter), "I care not a fig—it is all one to me."
So when the great square was filled with people, come to see the race, insomuch that the men swarmed like ants, and the windows and roofs were all as full as an egg, Lightning came out and took his station at the top of the square, waiting for the signal. And lo! forth came Ciannetella, drest in a little gown, tucked halfway up her legs, and a neat and pretty little shoe with a single sole. Then they placed themselves shoulder to shoulder; and as soon as the tarantara and too-too of the trumpets was heard, off they darted, running at such a rate that their heels touched their shoulders, and in truth they seemed just like hares with the greyhounds after them, horses broken loose from the stable, dogs with kettles tied to their tails, or jackasses with furze-bushes behind them. But Lightning (as he was both by name and nature) left the princess more than a handsbreadth behind him, and came first to the goal. Then you should have heard the huzzaing and shouting, the cries and the uproar, the whistling and clapping of hands of all the people, bawling out, "Hurra! Long life to the stranger!" Whereat Ciannetella's face turned as red as a schoolboy's who is going to be whipped, and she stood lost in shame and confusion at seeing herself vanquished. But as there were to be two heats to the race, she fell to planning how to be revenged for this affront; and going home, she put a charm into a ring, of such power, that if any one had it upon his finger, his legs would totter so that he would not be able to walk, much less to run; then she sent it as a present to Lightning; begging him to wear it on his finger for love of her.
Quickear, who heard this trick plotted between the father and daughter, said nothing, and waited to see the upshot of the affair. And when, at the trumpeting of the birds, the Sun whipped on the Night, who sat mounted on the jackass of the Shades[4], they returned to the field, where at the usual signal they fell to plying their heels. But if Ciannetella was like another Atalanta, Lightning had become no less like a shoulder-slipped ass and a foundered horse, for he could not stir a step. But Shootstraight, who saw his comrade's danger, and heard from Quickear how matters stood, laid hold on his crossbow, and shot a bolt so exactly that it hit Lightning's finger, and out flew the stone from the ring, in which the virtue of the charm lay; whereupon his legs, that had been tied, were set free, and with four goat-leaps he passed Cianuetella and won the race.
The king seeing this victory of a blockhead, the palm thus carried off by a simpleton, the triumph of a fool, bethought himself seriously whether or no he should give him his daughter; and taking counsel with the wiseacres of his court, they replied that Ciauuetella was not a mouthful for the tooth of such a miserable dog and lose-the-day bird, and that without breaking his word he might commute the promise of his daughter for a gift of crowns, which would be more to the taste of a poor beggar like Moscione than all the women in the world.
This advice pleased the king, and he asked Moscione how much money he would take instead of the wife who had been promised him. Then Moscione, after consulting with the others, answered, "I will take as much gold and silver as one of my comrades can carry on his back." The king consented; whereupon they brought Strongback, on whom they began to load bales of ducats, sacks of patacas, large purses full of crowns, barrels of copper money, chests full of chains and rings; but the more they loaded him the firmer he stood, just like a tower, so that the treasury, the banks, the usurers, and the money-dealers of the city did not suffice, and he sent to all the great people in every direction to borrow their silver candlesticks, basins, jugs, plates, trays and baskets; and yet all was not enough to make up the full load. At length they went away, not laden, but tired and satisfied.
When the councillors saw what heaps and stores these four miserable dogs were carrying off, they said to the king that it was a great piece of assery to load them with all the sinews of his kingdom, and that it would be well to send people after them to lessen the load of that Atlas who was carrying on his shoulders a heaven of treasure. The king gave ear to this advice, and immediately despatched a party of armed men, foot and horse, to overtake Moscione and his friends. But Quickear, who had heard this counsel, informed his comrades; and while the dust was rising to the sky from the trampling of those who were coming to unload the rich cargo, Blowblast, seeing that things were come to a bad pass, began to blow at such a rate, that he not only made the enemies fall flat on the ground, but he sent them flying more than a mile distant, as the north wind does folks who pass through that country. So without meeting any more hindrance, Moscione arrived at his father's house, where he shared the booty with his companions, since, as the saying goes, a good deed deserves a good meed. So he sent them away content and happy; but he stayed with his father, rich beyond measure, and saw himself an ass laden with gold, not giving the lie to the saying,
"Heaven sends biscuits to him who has no teeth."
No sooner was this story ended, than, according to the command of the Prince, Giallaise and Cola Jacovo, one the cook and the other the butler of the Court, made their appearance, clad in the old Neapolitan dress, and began a dialogue, which was vastly relished by all the auditors, who, enchanted with the pleasure, were scarcely aware that the Sun, tired of journeying the whole day long through the fields of heaven, having driven the Stars to the torch-dance, had retired to change his shirt. But as it was now growing dusk, after receiving the usual command to return the next day, they all retired to their homes.
1. Literally, 'as the proof of the ham is in the stick,'—which a person thrusts into the meat to taste its flavour.
2. See Lucian's "Somnium, vel Gallus."
3. The porters in the custom-house at Naples are remarkable for their strength. A fête is held in that city on the first of May, in which a standard with a pole of an enormous height is carried by the strongest man.
4. One mode of punishment in Naples was for the criminal to ride through the city on a jackass, with a paper cap (mitera) on his head, and whipped on his naked back.
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