CENERENTOLA.[1]
In the sea of Malice Envy frequently gets out of her depth; and whilst she is expecting to see another drowned, she is either drowned herself, or is dashed against a rock, as happened to some envious girls, about whom I will tell you a story.
There once lived a prince, who was a widower, but who had a daughter, so dear to him that he saw with no other eyes than hers; and he kept a governess for her, who taught her chain-work, and knitting, and to make point-lace, and showed her such affection as no words can tell. But after a time the father married again, and took a wicked jade for his wife, who soon conceived a violent dislike to her stepdaughter; and all day long she made sour looks, wry faces and fierce eyes at her, till the poor child was beside herself with terror, and was for ever bewailing to her governess the bad treatment she received from her stepmother, saying to her, "O heavens, that you had been my mother, you who show me so much kindness and affection!" And she went on thus, sighing and singing to this tune, till at last the governess, having a wasp put in her ear and blinded by the Mazzamauriello[2], said to her one day, "If you will do as this foolish head of mine advises, I shall be mother to you, and you will be as dear to me as the apple of my eye."
She was going on to say more, when Zezolla[3] (for that was the girl's name) said, "Pardon me if I stop the word upon your tongue. I know you wish me well, therefore hush! enough—only show me the way to get out of my trouble; do you write, and I will sub-scribe."
"Well then," answered the governess, "open your ears and listen, and you will get bread as white as the flowers[4]. When your father goes out, ask your stepmother to give you one of the old dresses that are in the large chest in the closet, in order to save the one you have on. Then she, who would like of all things to see you go in rags and tatters, will open the chest, and say, 'Hold up the lid!' and whilst you are holding it up, and she is rummaging about inside, let it fall with a bang, so as to break her neck. When this is done, as you know well enough that your father would even coin false money to please you, do you entreat him when he is caressing you to take me to wife; for then, bless your stars! you shall be the mistress of my life."
When Zezolla heard this, every hour seemed to her a thousand years until she had done all that her governess had advised; and as soon as the mourning for the stepmother's death was ended, she began to feel her father's pulse, and to entreat him to marry the governess. At first the prince took it as a joke, but Zezolla went on shooting so long past the mark, that at length she hit it, and he gave way to her entreaties. So he took Carmosina (that was the name of the governess) to wife, and gave a great feast at the wedding.
Now whilst the young folks were dancing, and Zezolla was standing at a window of her house, a dove came flying and perched upon a wall, and said to her, "Whenever you desire anything, send the request to the Dove of the Fairies in the island of Sardinia, and you will instantly have what you wish."
For five or six days the new stepmother overwhelmed Zezolla with caresses, seating her at the best place at table, giving her the choicest morsels to eat, and clothing her in the richest apparel. But ere long, forgetting entirely the good service she had received, (woe to him who has a bad master!) she began to bring forward six daughters of her own, whom she had until then kept concealed; and she praised them so much, and talked her husband over in such a manner, that at last the stepdaughters engrossed all his favour, and the thought of his own child went entirely from his heart: in short, it fared so ill with the poor girl, bad today and worse tomorrow, that she was at last brought down from the royal chamber to the kitchen, from the canopy of state to the hearth, from splendid apparel of silks and gold to dishclouts, from the sceptre to the spit. And not only was her condition changed, but even her name; for instead of Zezolla, she was now called Cenerentola.
It happened that the prince had occasion to go to Sardinia upon affairs of state; and calling the six stepdaughters,—Imperia, Calamita, Fiorella, Diamante, Colombina, Pascarella,—he asked them one by one what they would like him to bring them on his return. Then one wished for splendid dresses, another to have head-ornaments, another rouge for the face, another toys and trinkets; in short, one wished for this thing and another for that. At last the prince said to his own daughter, as if in mockery, "And what would you have, child?"—"Nothing, father," she replied, "but that you commend me to the Dove of the Fairies, and bid her send me something; and if you forget my request, may you be unable to stir either backwards or forwards: so remember what I tell you, for it will fare with you accordingly."
Then the prince went his way, and transacted his affairs in Sardinia, and procured all the things which his stepdaughters had asked for; but poor Zezolla went quite out of his thoughts. And embarking on board a ship, he set sail to return; but the ship could not get out of the harbour; there it stuck fast, just as if held back by a sea-lamprey[5]. The captain of the ship, who was almost in despair and fairly tired out, laid himself down to sleep; and in his dream he saw a fairy, who said to him, "Know you the reason why you cannot work the ship out of port? it is because the prince who is on board with you has broken his promise to his daughter, remembering every one except his own blood."
Then the captain awoke, and told his dream to the prince, who, in shame and confusion at the breach of his promise, went to the Grotto of the Fairies, and commending his daughter to them, asked them to send her something. And behold there stepped forth from the grotto a beautiful maiden, who told him that she thanked his daughter for her kind remembrance, and bade him tell her to be merry and of good heart, out of love to her. And thereupon she gave him a date-tree, a hoe and a little bucket all of gold, and a silken napkin; adding, that the one was to hoe with and the other to water the plant.
The prince, marvelling at this present, took leave of the fairy and returned to his own country. And when he had given the stepdaughters all the things they had desired, he at last gave his own daughter the gift which the fairy had sent her. Then Zezolla, out of her wits with joy, took the date-tree and planted it in a pretty flowerpot, hoed the earth around it, watered it, and wiped its leaves morning and evening with the silken napkin; so that in a few days it had grown as tall as a woman, and out of it came a fairy, who said to Zezolla, "What do you wish for?" And Zezolla replied, that she wished sometimes to leave the house without her sisters' knowledge. The fairy answered, "Whenever you desire this, come to the flowerpot and say,
'My little Date-tree, my golden tree,
With a golden hoe I have hoed thee.
With a golden can I have water'd thee,
With a silken cloth I have wiped thee dry.
Now strip thee, and dress me speedily!'
And when you wish to undress, change the last verse, and say, 'Strip me, and dress thee.'"
When the time for the feast was come, and the stepmother's daughters appeared, drest out so fine, all ribbands and flowers, and slippers and shoes, sweet smells and bells, and roses and posies, Zezolla ran quickly to the flowerpot; and no sooner had she repeated the words which the fairy had told her, than she saw herself arrayed like a queen, seated upon a palfrey, and attended by twelve smart pages all drest in their best. Then she went to the ball where the sisters had gone, whose mouths watered with envy of the beauty of this graceful dove.
Now as luck would have it the king himself came to that same place, who, as soon as he saw the marvellous beauty of Zezolla, stood magic-bound with amazement, and ordered a trusty servant to find out who that beautiful creature was, and where she lived. So the servant followed in her footsteps; but Zezolla, observing the trick, threw on the ground a handful of crown-pieces, which she had made the date-tree give her for this purpose. Then the servant lighted the lantern, and in his eagerness to fill his pockets with the crown-pieces he forgot to follow the palfrey. In the meantime Zezolla hastened home, and undressed herself as the fairy had told her. Soon afterwards the wicked sisters returned, and, in order to vex her and excite her envy, they told her of all kinds of beautiful things that they had seen.
Meanwhile the servant came back to the king, and told him what had happened with the crown-pieces; whereupon the king flew into a great rage, telling him that for a few paltry farthings he had sold his pleasure, and commanding him at all events to find out at the next feast who the beautiful maiden was, and where this pretty bird had its nest.
When the next feast was come, the sisters all went to it decked out smartly, leaving poor Zezolla at home on the hearth. Then Zezolla ran quickly to the date-tree, and repeated the words as before; and instantly there appeared a number of damsels, one with a looking-glass, another with a bottle of pumpkin-water, another with the curling-irons, another with a comb, another with pins, another with dresses, and another with capes and collars. And decking her out till she looked as beautiful as a sun, they placed her in a coach drawn by six horses, attended by footmen and pages in livery. And no sooner did she appear in the room where the former feast was held, than the hearts of the sisters were filled with amazement, and the breast of the king with fire.
When Zezolla went away again, the servant followed in her footsteps as before; but, in order not to be caught, she threw down a handful of pearls and jewels; and the good fellow, seeing that they were not things to lose, stayed to pick them up. So Zezolla had time to slip home and take off her fine dress as before.
Meanwhile the servant returned slowly to the king, who exclaimed when he saw him, "By the souls of my ancestors, if you don't find out who she is, I'll give you a sound thrashing, and, what's more, I'll give you as many kicks as you have hairs in that beard of thine!"
When the next feast was held, and the sisters had gone to it, Zezolla went to the date-tree, and repeating the words of the charm, in an instant she was splendidly arrayed, and seated in a coach of gold, with ever so many servants around, so that she looked just like a queen. The envy of the sisters was excited as before; and when she left the room, the king's servant kept close[6] to the coach. But Zezolla, seeing that the man kept running at her side, cried, "Coachman, drive on!" and in a trice the coach set off at such a rattling pace, that Zezolla lost one of her slippers, the prettiest thing that ever was seen. The servant, being unable to overtake the coach, which flew like a bird, picked up the slipper, and carrying it to the king told him all that had happened. Whereupon the king, taking it in his hand, said, "If the basement indeed is so beautiful, what must the building be? O beauteous candlestick, where is the candle that consumes me? O tripod of the bright boiler in which life simmers! O beautiful cork, fastened to the angling-line of Love, with which he has caught my soul! Lo, I embrace you, I press you to my heart; and if I cannot reach the plant, I adore at least the roots; if I cannot possess the capital of the column, I kiss the base. You who until now were the prison of a white foot, are now the fetter of an unhappy heart."
So saying he called his secretary, and commanded the trumpeter to sound a "Too, too!" and make proclamation, that all the women of that country should come to a feast and banquet which he had taken it into his head to give. And when the appointed day was come, heyday, what a feasting and frolic was there! from whence in the world came all the pies and pasties? whence the stews and ragouts? whence the maccaroni and sweetmeats? In short there was enough to feed a whole army.
And when the women were all assembled, noble and ignoble, rich and poor, old and young, beautiful and ugly, and when all was ready, the king tried the slipper first on one and then on another of the guests, to see whom it should fit to a hair, and to be able thus to discover by the form of the slipper the maiden of whom he was in search; but not finding one foot which would fit it exactly, he began to despair. However, having ordered silence, he said, "Come again tomorrow, and eat a bit of dinner with me; and as you love me, don't leave a single girl or woman at home, be she who she may." Then the prince said, "I have indeed another daughter at home; but she is always on the hearth, and is such a graceless simpleton that she is unworthy to sit down to eat at your table." But the king said, "Let her be the very first on the list, for so I will."
So all the guests departed, and the next day they assembled again, and with Carmosina's daughters came Zezolla. The instant the king saw her, he imagined it was she whom he longed to find; but this he kept to himself. And when the feasting was ended, came the trial of the slipper; but as soon as ever it approached Zezolla's foot, it darted of itself to the foot of that painted egg of Venus, as the iron flies to the magnet; at the sight of which the king ran to her, and made a press for her with his arms, and seating her under the royal canopy he set the crown upon her head; whereupon all made their obeisance and homage to her as their queen.
When the sisters beheld this, they were full of spite and rage; and not having patience to look upon this object of their hatred, they slipped quietly away on tiptoe, and went home to their mother, confessing in spite of themselves that
"He is a madman who resists the stars."
It is impossible to conceive how much the good fortune of Zezolla touched the heart of every one present; but greatly as they praised the liberality of Heaven to the poor girl, they considered the punishment of Carmosina's daughters far too trifling; for there is no punishment which pride does not deserve, no misfortune that envy does not merit. But in the midst of all the babbling about this story, the Prince Taddeo placed the forefinger of his right hand across his lips, and made a sign for silence; whereupon all stopped in an instant, as if they had seen a wolf; or like a schoolboy, who in the height of the fun sees the master unexpectedly appear. Then the Prince made a sign to Ciulla to commence her story, and she thus began.
1. The title of this story is 'La Gatta Cenerentola,'—Puss on the hearth.
2. A wicked little imp.
3. Lucretia.
4. i.e. 'you shall have your wish.'
5. Remora.—Set Pliny, Nat. Hist. ix. 25.
6. The Neapolitan is very pretty—se cosette a ffilo duppio.
THE MERCHANT.
Troubles are usually the brooms and shovels that smooth the road to a man's good fortune, of which he little dreams; and many a man curses the rain that falls upon his head, and knows not that it brings abundance to drive away hunger; as is seen in the person of a young man, of whom I will tell you.
It is said that there was once a very rich merchant named Antoniello, who had two sons, Cienzo and Meo, so alike that there was no telling the one from the other. It happened that Cienzo, the elder brother, was one day playing at throwing stones on the seashore with the son of the king of Naples, and by chance broke his companion's head. Whereat Antoniello flew into a rage, and said to him, "Bravo! here's a pretty piece of work indeed! write to your friends and boast of what you have done! you have broken what was worth a groat—you have broken the head of the king's son, and never counted the cost, you blockhead! What will become of you now? You have cooked a pretty mess indeed! I would not give a farthing for your chance of escaping out of the king's hands if you stay here; for he has long arms, you know, that reach into every hole and corner, and I warrant he'll make the room too hot to hold you."
After his father had repeated this over and over again, Cienzo answered, "Sir, I have always heard say, that better is the law-court than the doctor in one's house. Would it not have been worse if he had broken my head? It was he who began, and provoked me; we are but boys, and there are two sides to the quarrel. After all, 'tis a first fault, and the king is a man of reason; but let the worst come to the worst, what great harm can he do me? Let him who will not give me the mother, give me the daughter—let him who will not send me cooked meat, send me raw; the wide world is one's home, and let him who is afraid, turn constable."
"What can he do to you indeed!" replied Antoniello; "he can drive you out of the world,—send you for a change of air; he can make you a schoolmaster, with a ferule four-and-twenty feet long, to thrash the fishes[1] and teach them to speak; he can send you off with a soaped collar three feet long, to make merry with the widow[2]; and, instead of taking the maiden's hand, make you touch the confessor's foot. Therefore don't stand here at the risk of your life[3], but march off this very instant, so that nobody may hear a word either new or old of what you have done, and you may not be kept here by the foot. A bird in the bush is better than a bird in the cage. Here is money—take one of the two enchanted horses which I have in the stable, and a dog which is also enchanted, and tarry no longer here: better to scamper off and use your own heels, than to be touched by another's; better to throw your legs over your back, than to carry your head between two legs; better to run a thousand feet, than to stay here with three feet of rope; if you don't take your knapsack and be off, neither Baldo nor Bartolo[5] will help you."
Then, begging his father's blessing, Cienzo mounted his horse, and tucking the little dog under his arm, he went his way out of the city. But turning his head round when he had passed through the Capuan gate, he fell to exclaiming, "Farewell, for I must leave thee, my beautiful Naples! who knows whether I shall ever see thee again? Ye bricks of sugar-candy, ye walls of sweetmeats! where the stones are of manna, the rafters of sugar-cane, the doors and windows of wafer-cakes! Alas! as I leave thee, lovely Pennino[6], I seem to be going to the gallows[7]; as I tear myself from thee, O Chiazza-Larga, my breath grows short; in parting from thee, O Lanziere, I seem pierced by a Catalan lance; Where shall I find another Puorto, thou port of all the riches of the world? where another Loggia, in which plenty abides and pleasure is lodged? Alas, as I tear myself from thee, my Lavinaro, a stream of lava flows from these eyes! I cannot leave thee, O Mercato, without purchasing a store of grief! Adieu, ye carrots and juicy cabbages[8]! adieu, pancakes and puddings! adieu, ye broccoli and pickled tunnies! adieu, ye salt-fish and salads! adieu, cakes and tartlets! adieu, thou flower of cities, glory of Italy, painted egg[9] of Europe, thou mirror of the world! Farewell, Naples, thou spot where virtue has set her limits and grace her boundary! I depart, and leave for ever the soups and pottage[10]; I fly from this beautiful village—ye dear cabbage-stalks, I leave you!"
So saying, and making a winter of tears with a summer of sighs, he went his way, and travelled on and on, until the first evening he came to a wood in that part of Cascano which kept the mule of the Sun outside its limits, whilst it was amusing itself with Silence and the Shades. There stood an old house at the foot of a tower; and Cienzo knocked at the door of the tower; but the master being in fear of robbers, as it was already night, would not open the door; so that poor Cienzo was obliged to remain in the ruined old house; and turning his horse out to graze in a meadow, he threw himself on some straw which he found there, with the dog at his side. But scarcely had he closed his eyes, when, awakened by the barking of the dog, he heard footsteps stirring in the old house. Cienzo, who was bold and venturous, seized his sword and began to lay about him in the dark; but perceiving that he hit no one, and that he only struck at the wind, he turned round again and stretched himself out. But after a few minutes, feeling himself pulled gently by the foot, he turned to lay hold of his cutlass, and jumped up again, exclaiming, "Hollo there! you are getting too troublesome; but leave off this sport, and let's have a bout of it, if you have any pluck, for you have found the last to your shoe."
At these words he heard a shout of laughter, and then a hollow voice saying, "Come down here, and I will tell you who I am." Then Cienzo, without losing courage, answered, "Wait awhile, I'll come." So he groped about, until at last he found a ladder, which led to a cellar; and going down, he saw a lighted lamp, and three ghost-looking figures, who were making a piteous clamoiur, crying, "Alas, my beauteous treasure, I must lose thee!"
When Cienzo saw this, he began himself to cry and lament for company sake; and after he had wept for some time, the Moon having now with the axe of her rays broken the bar of the Sky, the three figures who were making the outcry said to Cienzo, "Take this treasure, which is destined for thee alone, but mind that you take care of it." And so saying they vanished, like one who has never appeared. Then Cienzo, espying the sunlight through a hole in the wall, wished to climb up again, but he could not find the ladder; whereat he set up such a cry, that the master of the tower, who had come to hunt for something in the old house, heard him, and asked him what he was about; and when he was told what had passed, he fetched a ladder, and going down discovered a great treasure. Then he wished to give a part of it to Cienzo, but Cienzo would not have any; and taking the dog, and mounting his horse, he set out again upon his travels.
After a while he arrived at a wild and dreary forest, so dark that it made you shudder. There, upon the bank of a river, which, to please the shades of which it was enamoured, was winding about in the meadows like a snake, and leaping over the stones, he found a fairy, surrounded by a band of robbers. Cienzo, perceiving the wicked intention of these rogues, seized his sword and soon made a slaughter of them. Then the fairy, who saw that this deed was done for her sake, showered on him thanks, and invited him to a palace not far distant, that she might make a return for the service he had done her. But Cienzo replied, "It is a mere nothing at all—thank you kindly—another time I will accept the favour, but now I am in haste, on business of importance."
So saying he took his leave; and travelling on a long way, he came at last to the palace of a king, which was all hung with mourning, so that it made one's heart grow black to look at it. Then Cienzo inquired the cause of the mourning, and the folks answered, "A dragon with seven heads has made his appearance in this country, the most terrible monster that ever was seen in the world, with the crest of a cock, the head of a cat, eyes of fire, the mouth of a bulldog, the wings of a bat, the claws of a bear, and the tail of a serpent. Now this dragon swallows a Christian every day, and so it has gone on up to the present time, until at last the lot has fallen upon Menechella, the daughter of the king; on which account there is a great weeping and wailing in the royal palace, since the fairest creature in all the land is doomed to be devoured and swallowed by this horrid beast,"
When Cienzo heard this he stepped aside, and saw Menechella pass by with the mourning train, accompanied by the ladies of the court and all the women of the land, wringing their hands, and tearing out their hair by handfuls, and bewailing the sad fate of the poor girl, saying, "Who would have imagined that this unhappy maiden should make a cession of the wealth of life in the body of this brute beast? who could have thought that this beautiful goldfinch should have the belly of a dragon for a cage? who could have foretold that such a beauteous little angel should be doomed to end her life in this dark cavern?"
As they were exclaiming thus, behold the dragon came out of a cave. O mother of mine, what a horrid sight! the sun hid himself in terror within the clouds; the sky grew darkened, the hearts of beholders shrivelled up like a mummy, and all the folks trembled and shook like an aspen-leaf. Then Cienzo, who saw all this, laid hold on his sword, and slapdash struck off a head in a trice. But the dragon went and rubbed his neck on a certain plant which grew not far off, and suddenly the head joined itself on again, like a lizard joining itself to its tail. When Cienzo saw this he exclaimed, "He who dares not, wins not;" and setting his teeth, he struck such a furious blow that he cut off all seven heads, which flew from the necks like peas from the pan. Whereupon he took out the tongues, and putting them in his pocket, he flung the heads a mile apart from the body, so that they might never come together again. Then he took a handful of the plant which had united the dragon's neck with the head, sent Menechella home to her father, and went himself to repose in a tavern.
When the king saw his daughter, his delight is not to be told; and having heard the manner in which she had been freed, he ordered a proclamation to be instantly made, that whosoever had killed the dragon should come and take his daughter to wife. Now a rascal of a country-fellow happening to hear this proclamation, took the heads of the dragon, went to the king, and said, "Menechella has been saved by me; these hands have freed the land from destruction; behold the dragon's heads, which are the proofs of my valour; therefore recollect, every promise is a debt." As soon as the king heard this, he lifted the crown from his own head and set it upon the countryman's poll, who looked just like a thief on the gallows[12].
The news of this proclamation flew through the whole country, till at last it came to the ears of Cienzo, who said to himself, "Verily I am a great blockhead! I had hold of Fortune by the forelock, and I let her escape out of my hand: here's a man who offers to give me the half of a treasure he finds, and I care no more for it than a German for cold water; the fairy wishes to entertain me in her palace, and I care for it as little as the ass for music; and now that I am called to the crown, here I stand, like a tipsy woman with her spindle, and allow a hairy-footed bumpkin to pass me by, and let a rascally thief cheat me out of my trump-card." So saying he took an inkstand, seized a pen, and spreading out a sheet of paper, began to write:—
"To the most beautiful jewel of women, Menechella, the Infanta of Lost-Wits.—Having by the favour of Sol in Leo saved thy life, I hear that another plumes himself with my labours, that another claims the reward of the service which I have rendered. Thou therefore, who wast present at the dragon's death, canst assure the king of the truth, and prevent his allowing another to gain this sinecure, whilst I have had all the toil; for it will be the right effect of thy fair royal grace, and the merited reward of this strong Scanderbeg's fist[13]. In conclusion, I kiss thy delicate little hands.—From the Flowerpot Inn, this day, Sunday."
Having written this letter, and sealed it with a wafer, he placed it in the dog's mouth, saying, Run off as fast as you can, and take this to the king's daughter; give it to no one else, but place it in the hand of that silver-faced maiden herself."
Away ran the dog to the palace as if he were flying, and going up the stairs he found the king, who was still paying compliments to the country clown. When the man saw the dog with the letter in his mouth, he ordered it to be taken from him; but the dog would not give it to any one, and bounding up to Menechella he placed it in her hand. Then Menechella rose from her seat, and making a curtsey to the king, she gave him the letter to read; and when the king had read it, he ordered that the dog should be followed, to see where he went, and that his master should be brought before him. So two of the courtiers immediately followed the dog, until they came to the tavern, where they found Cienzo; and delivering the message from the king, they conducted him to the palace, into the presence of the king, who asked him how it happened that he boasted of having killed the dragon, since the heads were brought by the man who was sitting crowned at his side. And Cienzo answered, "That fellow deserves a pasteboard mitre[14] rather than a crown, since he has had the impudence to tell you a bouncing lie[15]. But to prove to you that I have done the deed, and not this rascal, order the heads to be produced, for none of them can speak to the proof without a tongue, and these I have brought with me as witnesses to convince you of the truth."
So saying he pulled the tongues out of his pocket, while the countryman was struck all of a heap, not knowing what would be the end of it; and the more so when Menechella added, "This is the man! Ah you dog of a countryman, a pretty trick you have played me!" When the king heard this, he took the crown from the head of that false loon, and placed it on Cienzo's; and he was on the point of sending the fellow to the galleys, but Cienzo begged the king to have mercy on him, and to confound his wickedness with courtesy. Then the tables were spread, and there was a royal banquet; which being ended, they went to rest in a splendid bed.
When morning came, and the Sun, brandishing the two-handed sword of the Light in the midst of the Stars, cries, "Back, you rabble!" Cienzo, standing at the window, saw at a house opposite a fair young girl; and turning round to Menechella, he said, "What beautiful creature is that standing in yon window opposite?"—"What does that matter to you?" answered his wife: "what are you staring at? what fancy have you got in your head now?" Upon this Cienzo hung his head, like a cat that has been up to some mischief, and said nothing; but making a pretence of going out on an affair of business, he left the palace, and went to the house of the maiden opposite, who was verily an exquisite morsel; you might fancy yourself looking at a delicate junket, a sugar pasty; she never turned the buttons[16] of her eyes, but she made an amorous blister on all hearts; she never opened the saucepan of her lips, but she poured scalding water upon souls; she never moved a foot, but she pressed down the shoulders of him who hung suspended by the cord of hope[17]. But beside all these bewitching charms, she possessed a magic power, by which, whenever she wished it, she spellbound and chained men with her hair, as she now did Cienzo, who had no sooner set foot in the house than he was instantly held fast like a colt with a clog to its foot.
Meanwhile Meo, the younger brother, hearing no tidings of Cienzo, took it into his head to go in search of him: so he asked leave of his father, who gave him another horse and another enchanted dog. Then Meo set out, and travelled on and on, till in the evening he came to the very tower where Cienzo had been; and the master of it, thinking it was Cienzo, received him with the greatest affection in the world, and offered him money, but Meo would not accept it. When Meo saw all the kindness and attention shown him, it occurred to him that his brother must have been there, and this gave him hope of finding him. So as soon as the Moon, the enemy of poets, turned her back upon the Sun, Meo set out again, and travelled on until he came to the palace of the fairy, who, thinking it was Cienzo, received him with the utmost kindness, saying again and again, "Welcome, dear youth, who saved my life!" Meo thanked her for her kindness, but said, Excuse my not staying longer now, as I am in haste. Adieu, till we meet again on my return!" Away went Meo, rejoicing in his heart at finding traces of his brother wherever he went; and he journeyed on and on, until in the morning he arrived at the king's palace, just at the moment when Cienzo was bewitched by the fairy's hair. Then Meo went into the palace, and was received by the servants with great honour; and the young maiden embraced him affectionately and said, "Welcome back, my husband! the morning passes, the evening comes, when every bird returns to seek its nest. Where hast thou been all this while, my Cienzo? how couldst thou remain away from Menechella? thou hast taken me out of the dragon's jaws, and now thrustest me into the throat of jealousy, since thou dost not keep me ever before the mirror of thine eyes."
Meo, who was a clever fellow, instantly thought to himself that this must be his brother's wife; and turning to Menechella, he excused his absence, wishing not to undeceive her, and embracing her they went to dinner. But when the Moon, like a brood-hen, calls together the Stars to pick up the dewdrops, they all retired to rest; and Meo, pretending to be unwell, begged to sleep in a room alone.
The next morning, when the Night being pursued by the Sun, the Twilight gives her time to collect her bundles and be off, Meo, who was standing at the window, beheld the same maiden who had entrapped Cienzo; and being much pleased with her, he said to Menechella, "Who is that hussy standing at yon window?" And Menechella in a great rage replied, "So so, if matters stand thus, I know where I am: yesterday you teased me about that ugly face, and I fear that the tongue goes in truth to the aching tooth. You ought however to pay me some respect, for at all events I am the daughter of a king, and every clod of dirt has its use; but if I find you out, take care lest I act like a mad person, and make the chips fly through the air."
Meo, who had eaten bread from more than one oven, soothed her with soft words, and said and swore that he would not exchange his wife for the most beautiful creature in the world, and that she was the very core of his heart; until Menechella, reconciled at length by these words, went into a closet, to have the waiting-maids pass the glass over her face[18], braid her hair, dye her eyebrows, and in short adorn her, so that she might appear still more beautiful to her supposed husband.
In the meanwhile Meo, who began to suspect from what had fallen from Menechella that Cienzo was staying at the house of that maiden, took the little dog, and leaving the palace went to her house; and hardly had he entered the door when she exclaimed, "Hairs of mine, bind this man!" But Meo lost no time, and instantly cried, "Quick, little dog, eat up this woman!" Whereupon the dog flew at her and swallowed her down like the yolk of an egg. Then Meo went further into the house, and there he found his brother seemingly enchanted; but laying two of the dog's hairs upon him, Cienzo appeared to awake as if from a deep sleep. Then Meo told his brother all that had happened to him on his travels, and lastly at the palace; and he was going on to tell him of Mencehella, and how she had mistaken him, when Cienzo in a sudden fit of jealousy snatched up an old sword, and cut off his brother's head like a cucumber.
Hearing the rout the king and his daughter both came out; and when Mcnechclla saw that Cienzo had slain a man exactly like himself, she asked him the cause. And Cienzo said to her, "Ask yourself, you unfaithful woman; it is all through your fault that I have killed him."—"Alas!" said Menechella, how many are slain wrongfully! a brave deed truly you have done!" And then she told him how innocent and discreet his brother had been.
When Cienzo heard this, he repented bitterly the error he had committed in his sudden passion (the son of a hasty judgement and the father of stupidity) and he tore his hair with grief. But suddenly recollecting the plant which the dragon had shown him, he rubbed it upon his brother's neck, which instantly drew close and joined on to the head, so that Meo became sound and well again. Then Cienzo embraced his brother joyfully, begging him to pardon his hasty passion, and the wrong he had done in sending him out of the world without first hearing the affair to the end. Whereupon they all went in a coach to the palace, whither they sent to invite Antoniello, together with all his family; and Antoniello soon got into great favour with the king, and saw in the person of his son the saying verified—
"A straight port to a crooked ship[19]."
As soon as Ciulla had ended her story, which was as sweet as sugar, Paola, whose turn it was to take up the dance, began as follows.
1. A ffare cavalle a li pisce.
2. Death is often called by the Neapolitans la Vedola.
3. Co lo cuojero a ppesone fra lo panno e l'azzimatore. Literally, 'with your skin between the cloth and the press.'
4. Two celebrated lawyers: Baldo was a friend of Petrarch; Bartolo was a pupil of Cino da Pistoja.
5. This and the following names are those of squares and streets in Naples. I have omitted a few, in which the play upon the words could not be translated.
6. Ire co lo pennone. The pennone (literally 'standard') came to be applied in Naples only to the flag borne by the hangman, who headed the procession to an execution.
7. The Neapolitans had such a passion for cabbages at the time this was written, that they got the name of 'Mangia foglia.' Hence the lines—
8. "Pecchè Napole mio, dica chi voglia.
9. Non si Napole cchiù si non haie foglia."
10. Mme parto pe stare sempe ridolo de le ppignate mmaretate. A famous soup in Naples is called pignata maritata: the point is of course lost in translation.
11. Casale. Naples is often called by the inhabitants 'lo Casalone,' as a term of endearment.
12. Alluding to the crown, or mitera, placed upon the head of criminals when hung. The same custom was in some countries practised with persons going to be burnt by the Holy Office.
13. Scanderbeg was a famous Albanian hero, in the fifteenth century, who withstood the whole power of Turkey.
14. That is, to be hung.
15. Darete a rentennere vesiche pe Uanterne,—a common expression.
16. Alluding to the manner of forming a fontanel in Italy with a small heated iron ball or button.
17. The hangman sat on the shoulders of a person executed, to hasten his death.
18. An old practice, to polish the skin.
19. 'More by luck than wit.'
THE GOAT-FACE.
All the ill deeds that a man commits have some colour of excuse,—either contempt which provokes, necessity which compels, love which blinds, or anger which breaks the neck. But ingratitude is a thing that has no excuse, true or false, upon which it can fix; and it is therefore the worst of vices, since it dries up the fountain of compassion, extinguishes the fire of love, closes the road to benefits, and causes vexation and repentance to spring up in the heart of the ungrateful person; as you will see in the story which I am going to relate.
A peasant had twelve daughters, not one of whom was a head taller than the next; for every year their mother, good Mistress Ceccuzza, presented him with a little girl; so that the poor man, to support his family decently, went every morning as a day-labourer and dug hard the whole day long. Enough, with the little his labour produced, he kept his flock of little ones from dying of hunger.
He happened one day to be digging at the foot of a mountain, the spy of the other mountains that thrust its head above the clouds to see what they were doing up in the sky, and close to a cavern so deep and dark that the sun was afraid to enter it. Out of this cavern there came a green lizard as big as a crocodile, and the poor man was so terrified that he had not power to run away, expecting every moment the end of his days from a gulp of that ugly animal. But the lizard approaching him said, "Be not afraid, my good man, for I am not come here to do you any harm, but only for your good."
When Masaniello (for that was the name of the labourer) heard this, he fell on his knees and said, "Mistress What's-your-name, I am wholly in your power; act then worthily, and have compassion on this poor trunk that has twelve branches to support."
"It is on this very account," said the lizard, "that I am disposed to serve you; so bring me tomorrow morning the youngest of your daughters; for I will rear her up like my own child, and love her as my life."
At this the poor father was more confounded than a thief when the stolen goods are found on his back; for hearing the lizard ask him for one of his daughters, and that too the tenderest of them, he concluded that the cloak was not without wool on it, and that she wanted her for a tit-bit to stay her appetite. Then he said to himself, "If I give her my daughter, I give her my soul; if I refuse her, she will take this body of mine; if I yield her up, I am robbed of my heart; if I deny her, she will suck out my blood; if I consent, she takes away a part of myself; if I refuse, she takes the whole. What shall I resolve on? what course shall I take? what expedient shall I adopt? Oh what an ill day's work have I made of it! what a misfortune has rained down from heaven upon me!"
While he was speaking thus, the lizard said to him, "Resolve quickly, and do what I have told you, or else you will leave your rags here; for so I will have it, and so it must, be." Masaniello hearing this decree, and having no one to whom he could appeal, returned home quite melancholy, as yellow in the face as if he had the jaundice; and Ceccuzza, seeing him so moping and crestfallen[1], choked and swoln, said to him, "What has happened to you, husband? have you had a quarrel with any one? is there a warrant out against you? or is the ass dead?"
"Nothing of the kind," answered Masaniello; "but a horned lizard has put me into a fright, for she has threatened that, if I do not bring her our youngest daughter, she will make me rue it. My head is turning round like a reel. I know not what fish to take: on the one side, love constrains me; on the other, the burden of my family. I love Renzolla dearly, I love my own life dearly. If I do not give the lizard this portion of my heart, she will take the whole compass of this unfortunate body. So now, Ceccuzza dear, advise me, or I am ruined."
When his wife heard this, she said, "Who knows, husband, but this may be a lizard with two tails[2] that will make our fortune? who knows but this lizard may put an end to all our miseries? See how most times we ourselves put the axe to our foot, and when we should have an eagle's sight to discern the good luck that is running to meet us, we have a cloth before our eyes, and the cramp in our hand when we should lay hold of it. So go, take her away, for my heart tells me that some good fortune awaits the poor little thing."
These words pleased Masanicllo; and the next morning, as soon as the Sun with the brush of his rays whitewashed the Sky, which the shades of Night had blackened, he took the little girl by the hand and led her to the cave. As soon as the lizard, who was on the watch for the countryman's coming, saw him, she came out of her hiding-place, and taking the child, gave the father a bagful of crown-pieces, saying, "Go now, marry your other daughters with this money, and live happy, Renzolla has found both father and mother; and happy is she to have met with this good fortune."
Masaniello, overjoyed, thanked the lizard and went home to his wife, and told her the matter, and showed her the money, with which they married all their other daughters, and had enough vinegar remaining for themselves to enable them to swallow with relish the toils of life.
The lizard, as soon as she got Renzolla, caused a most beautiful palace to appear, and placed her in it, and brought her up in such state and magnificence as would have dazzled the eyes of any queen; and the story goes that she even did not want for ant's milk[3]. Her food was fit for a count, her clothing for a prince: she had a hundred maidens ready to wait upon her; and with such good treatment in a short time she grew as round as an oak-tree.
It happened, as the king was out hunting in these woods, that night overtook him; and as he stood looking around, not knowing where to lay his head, he saw a candle shining in this palace; whereupon he sent one of his servants to it, to pray the owner to give him shelter. When the servant came to the palace, the lizard appeared before him in the shape of a beautiful lady, who, after hearing his message, said that his master should be a thousand times welcome, and that neither bread nor knife should be wanting there. The king, on hearing this reply, went to the palace, and was received like a cavalier: a hundred pages went out to meet him with lighted torches, so that it appeared like the grand funeral of a rich man: a hundred other pages brought the dishes to the table, who looked like so many attendants in an hospital carrying cups of broth to the sick: a hundred others made a deafening din with musical instruments; but, above all, Renzolla served the king, and handed him drink with such grace that he drank more love than wine.
When dinner was over, and the tables were removed, the king went to bed, and Renzolla herself drew the stockings from his feet and the heart from his breast so cleverly that, when touched by her fair hand, he felt the amorous poison rise from the tips of his feet and infect his very soul. So, to prevent his death, he resolved to try and get the antidote to these beauties; and calling the fairy in whose care Renzolla was, he asked her for his wife; whereupon the fairy, who wished for nothing but Renzolla's good, not only freely consented, but gave her a dowry of seven millions of gold.
The king, overjoyed at this piece of good fortune, departed with Renzolla, who, ill-mannered and ungrateful for all the fairy had done for her, went off with her husband without uttering a single word of thanks. Then the fairy, beholding such ingratitude, cursed her, and wished that her face should become like that of a she-goat; and hardly had she uttered the words, when Renzolla's mouth stretched out, with a beard a span long on it; her jaws shrunk, her skin hardened, her cheeks grew hairy, and her plaited tresses turned to pointed horns.
When the poor king saw this he was thunderstruck, not knowing what had happened, that so great a beauty[4] should be thus transformed; and with sighs and tears he every moment kept exclaiming, "Where are the locks that bound me? where are the eyes that transfixed me? where is the mouth that was the pitfall of my soul, the trap of my breath, and the cage of my heart? must I then be the husband of a she-goat? no, no, my heart shall not break for such a goat-face." So saying, as soon as they reached his palace, he put Renzolla into a kitchen along with a chamber-maid, giving to each of them ten bundles of flax to spin, and desiring them to have the thread ready at the end of a week.
The maid, in obedience to the king, set about carding the flax, preparing and putting it on the distaff, twirling her spindle, reeling it, and working away like a dog; so that on Saturday evening her thread was all done. But Renzolla, thinking she was still the same as in the fairy's house, not having looked at herself in a glass, threw the flax out of the window, saying, "A pretty thing indeed of the king to set me such work to do! If he wants shirts let him buy them, and not fancy that he picked me up out of the gutter. But let him remember that I brought him home seven millions of gold, and that I am his wife and not his servant; methinks too he is somewhat of an ass to treat me in this way."
Nevertheless, when Saturday morning came, seeing that the maid had spun all her share of the flax, Renzolla was greatly afraid of getting a little carding; so away she went to the palace of the fairy, and told her her misfortune. Then the fairy embraced her with great affection, and gave her a bag full of spun thread, to present to the king, and show him what a notable and industrious housewife she was. Renzolla took the bag, and, without saying one word of thanks for the service, she went to the royal palace; so that the fairy was quite angered at the conduct of this graceless girl.
When the king had taken the thread, he gave two little dogs, one to Renzolla and one to the maid, telling them to feed and rear them. The maid reared hers upon bread-crumbs, and treated it like a child; but Renzolla grumbled,—"A pretty thing truly! as my grandfather used to say, prithee are we living under the Turks? have I indeed to comb and wait upon dogs?" And so saying, she flung the dog out of the window, which was a very different thing to leaping through the hoop.
Some months after this the king asked for the dogs; whereat Renzolla, losing heart, ran off again to the fairy; and at the gate stood an old man who was the porter: "Who are you," said he, "and whom do you want?" Renzolla, hearing herself accosted in this offhand way, replied, "Don't you know me, you goat-beard?"
"Are you handing me the knife?" said the old man: "this is the thief following the bailiff: keep off, said the tinker, you're dirtying me! throw yourself forward, or you'll fall on your back. I a goat-beard indeed! you're a goat-beard and a half, for you merit this and worse for your presumption. Wait awhile, you impudent slut; I'll presently enlighten you, and you will see to what your airs and your impudence have brought you."
So saying, he ran into a little room, and taking a looking-glass set it before Renzolla, who, when she saw her ugly, hairy visage, had like to have died of terror. Rinaldo's horror when he saw himself in the enchanted shield, so changed from what he had been[5], was nothing to her dismay at seeing her face so altered that she did not know herself. Whereupon the old man said to her, "You ought to recollect, Renzolla, that you are the daughter of a peasant, and that it was the fairy who raised you to be a queen; but you, rude, unmannerly and thankless as you are, having little gratitude for such favours, have kept her waiting in the ante-chamber without showing her the slightest mark of affection. So take and spend; go off with this, and come back for the rest. You have brought the quarrel on yourself: see what a face you have got by it! see to what you are brought by your ingratitude; for through the fairy's malediction you have not only changed face but condition. But if you will do as this white-beard advises, go and look for the fairy; throw yourself at her feet, tear your beard, scratch your face, beat your breast, and ask pardon for the ill-treatment you have shown her; for, as she is tender-hearted, she will be moved to pity at your misfortune."
Renzolla, who was touched to the quick, and felt that he had hit the nail on the head, followed the old man's advice. Then the fairy embraced and kissed her, and restoring her to her former appearance, she put on her a dress which was quite heavy with gold; and placing her in a magnificent coach, accompanied by a crowd of servants, she brought her to the king. When the king beheld her, so beautiful and splendidly attired, he loved her as his own life; blaming himself for all the misery he had made her endure, but excusing himself on account of that odious goat-face which had been the came of it. Thus Renzolla lived happy, loving her husband, honouring the fairy, and showing herself grateful to the old man, having learned at her cost that
"It is always good to be mannerly."
Every one present sat with open mouth listening to Paola's beautiful story; and they all agreed, that the humble man is like a ball, which springs the higher the harder it is thrown upon the ground; and like the he-goat, which butts with greater force the further he retreats. But Taddeo having made a sign to Ciommetella to follow the rubric, she speedily set her tongue in motion.
1. The original is beautiful: appagliaruto expresses the appearance of a bird when sick, with its head retracted under its wings—ascelluto is with its wings drooping.
2. The Neapolitans have a belief, that he who finds a lizard with two tails has made his fortune: it has become proverbial.
3. The Greeks said 'Bird's milk,' and we say 'Pigeon's milk,' to express what is rare: so 'Wolf's eggs,' page 60.
4. Na bellezza a doje sole,—a very common expression.
5. Tasso, Ger. Lib. cant, xvi, st. 31.
THE ENCHANTED DOE.
Great is doubtless the power of friendship, which makes us bear toils and perils willingly to serve a friend. We value our wealth as a trifle, honour as nothing at all, life as a straw, when we can give them for a friend's sake; fables teach us this, history is full of instances of it, and I will give you an example which my grandmother Semmonella—may she be in glory!—used to relate to me. So open your ears and shut your mouths, and hear what I shall tell you.
There was once a certain king of Long-Trellis named Giannone, who, desiring greatly to have children, had prayers continually made to the gods that they would grant his wish: and in order to incline them the more to give him this gratification, he was so charitable to beggars and pilgrims that he shared with them all he possessed. But seeing at last that matters were protracted, and there was no end to putting his hand into his pocket, he bolted his door fast, and shot with a cross bow at whoever came near.
Now it happened that at this time a long-bearded Capuchin was passing that way, and not knowing that the king had turned over a new leaf, or perhaps knowing it and wishing to make him change his mind again, he went to Giannone and begged for entertainment in his house. But, with a fierce look and a terrible growl, the king said to him, "If you have no other candle than this, you may go to bed in the dark. The time is gone by when Bertha span[1]; the kittens have their eyes open, and there's no more mammy now[2]." And when the old man asked what was the cause of this change, the king replied; "From my desire to have children, I have spent and have lent to all who came and all who went, and have squandered away all my wealth. At last, seeing that the beard was gone, I stopped and laid aside the razor."
"If that be all," replied the old man, "you may set your mind at rest, for I promise that your wish shall be forthwith fulfilled, on pain of losing my ears."
"Be it so," said the king, "and I pledge my word that I will give you one half of my kingdom." And the man answered, "Listen now to me,—if you wish to hit the mark, you have only to get the heart of a sea-dragon, and have it drest by a young maiden, who, from the mere steam that will come out of the dish, will instantly become in the family way. And as soon as the heart is drest, give it to the queen to eat, and you'll see that what I say will speedily come to pass."
"How is that possible?" replied the king; "to tell you the truth, it seems to me rather hard to swallow."
"Do not be surprised," said the old man; for if you read the fables you will find, that as Juno went through the Olenian fields and passed over a flower, she became pregnant and brought forth a child[3]."
"If that be the case," replied the king, "I must this very moment get the dragon's heart. At the worst I lose nothing by the trial."
So he sent a hundred fishermen out, and they got ready all kinds of fishing-tackle, drag-nets, casting-nets, seine-nets, bow-nets, and fishing-lines; and they tacked and turned, and cruized in all directions, until at last they caught a dragon; then they took out its heart and brought it to the king, who gave it to a handsome young lady to dress. So she shut herself up in a room, and scarcely had she set the heart on the fire, and the steam began to come out of the boiler, when not only did the fair cook herself feel its effects, but all the furniture in the room followed her example, and in the course of a few days they all lay-in; so that the state bed brought forth a little bed, the chest a pretty little box, the chairs pretty little babies' chairs, the table a little table, and the pitcher brought forth a little jug, so pretty that it was quite a pleasure to look upon.
When the heart was drest, the queen had no sooner tasted it than she felt the effects, and in a few days she and the young lady brought forth at the same time each of them a son, so like the one to the other that nobody could tell which was which. And the boys grew up together in such love for one another that they could not be parted for a moment; and their attachment was so great that the queen began to be jealous, at seeing her son testify more affection for the son of one of her servants than he did for herself, and she knew not in what way to remove this thorn from her eyes.
Now one day the prince wished to go a-hunting with his companion; so he had a fire lighted in a fireplace in his chamber, and began to melt lead to make balls; and being in want of I know not what, he went himself to look for it. Meanwhile the queen came in to see what her son was about, and finding nobody there but Canneloro, the son of the maiden, she thought to put him out of the world. So stooping down she flung the hot bullet-mould at his face, which hit him over the brow and gave him an ugly wound. She was just going to repeat the blow, when her son Fonzo came in; so pretending that she was only come to see how he was, after giving him a few trifling caresses she went away.
Canneloro, pulling his hat down on his forehead, said nothing of his wound to Fonzo, but stood quite quiet, though he was burning with the pain. And as soon as they had done making balls, he requested leave of the prince to go out. Fonzo, all in amazement at this new resolution, asked him the reason; but he replied, "Enquire no more, my dear Fonzo; let it suffice that I am obliged to go away, and Heaven knows that in parting with you, who are my heart, the soul is ready to leave my bosom, the breath to depart from my body, and the blood to run out of my veins; but since it cannot be otherwise, farewell, and keep me in remembrance!"
Then, after embracing one another and shedding many tears, Canneloro went to his own room, where taking a suit of armour and a sword (which had been brought forth by another weapon at the time when the dragon's heart was drest), he armed himself from top to toe; and having taken a horse out of the stable, he was just putting his foot into the stirrup when Fonzo came weeping and said, that since he was resolved to abandon him, he should at least leave him, some token of his love, to diminish his anguish for his absence. Thereupon Canneloro laid hold on his dagger and stuck it into the ground, and instantly a fine fountain rose up. Then said he to the prince, "This is the best memorial I can leave you; for by the flowing of this fountain you will know the course of my life; if you see it run clear, know that my life will likewise be clear and tranquil; if you see it turbid, think that I am passing through troubles; and if you find it dry, (which Heaven forbid!) depend on it that the oil of my lamp is all consumed, and I have paid the toll that belongs to Nature."
So saying he took his sword, and sticking it into the ground, he made a plant of myrtle spring up, saying to the prince, "As long as you see this myrtle green, know that I am green as a leek; if you see it wither, think that my fortunes are not the best in the world; but if it becomes quite dried up, you may say a requiem[4] for your Canneloro."
So saying, after embracing one another again, Canneloro set out on his travels; and journeying on and on, after various adventures which would be too long to recount,—such as quarrels with vetturini, disputes with landlords, murderous attacks by toll-gatherers, perils of bad roads, encounters with robbers,—he at length arrived at Long-Trellis[5], just at the time when they were holding a most splendid tournament, the hand of the king's daughter being promised to the victor. Here Canneloro presented himself, and bore him so bravely that he overthrew all the knights who were come from divers parts to gain a name for themselves. Whereupon Fenicia, the king's daughter, was given to him to wife, and a great feast was made.
When Canneloro had been there some months in peace and quiet, an unhappy fancy came into his head for going to the chase. Then he told it to the king, who said to him, "Take care of your legs, my son-in-law; do not be blinded by the evil one; be wise and open your eyes, sir! for in these woods there is the devil's own ogre, who changes his form every day, one time appearing like a wolf, at another like a lion, now like a stag, now like an ass, now like one thing and now like another; and by a thousand stratagems he decoys those who are so unfortunate as to meet him, into a cave, where he devours them. So, my son, do not put your safety in peril, or you will leave your rags there."
Canneloro, who did not know what fear was, paid no heed to the advice of his father-in-law; and as soon as the Sun with the broom of his rays had cleared away the soot of the Night, he set out for the chase; and on his way he came to a wood, where, beneath the awning of the leaves, the Shades had assembled to maintain their sway, and to make a conspiracy against the Sun. The ogre, seeing him coming, turned himself into a handsome doe, which as soon as Canneloro perceived he began to give chase to her; then the doe doubled and turned, and led him about hither and thither at such a rate, that at last she brought him into the very heart of the wood, where she made such a tremendous snow-storm arise that it looked as if the sky was going to fall. Canneloro, finding himself in front of the ogre's cave, went into it to seek shelter, and being benumbed with the cold, he took some sticks which he found within it, and pulling his steel out of his pocket he kindled a large fire. As he was standing by it to dry his clothes, the doe came to the mouth of the cave and said, "Sir knight, pray give me leave to warm myself a little while, for I am shivering with the cold." Canneloro, who was of a kind disposition, said to her, "Draw near, and welcome." "I would gladly," replied the doe, "but that I am afraid you would kill me." "Fear nothing," answered Canneloro; "come, trust to my word." "If you wish me to enter," rejoined the doe, "tie up these dogs, that they may not hurt me, and tie up your horse that he may not kick me."
So Canneloro tied up his dogs and fettered his horse, and the doe said, "I am now half assured, but unless you bind fast your sword, by the soul of my grandsire I will not go in!" Then Canneloro, who wished to become friends with the doe, bound his sword, as a countryman does his when he carries it in the city for fear of the constables. As soon as the ogre saw Canneloro defenceless, he took his own form, and laying hold on him, flung him into a pit that was at the bottom of the cave, and covered it up with a stone, to keep him to eat.
But Fonzo, who morning and evening visited the myrtle and the fountain, to learn news of the fate of Canneloro, finding the one withered and the other troubled, instantly thought that his friend[6] was passing through some misfortunes; and being desirous of giving him succour, be mounted his horse without asking leave of his father or mother, and arming himself well, and taking two enchanted dogs, he went rambling through the world; and he roamed and rambled here and there and everywhere, until at last he came to Long-Trellis, which he found all in mourning for the supposed death of Canneloro. And scarcely was he come to the court, when every one, thinking it was Canneloro from the likeness he bore him, hastened to tell Fenicia the good news, who ran tumbling down the stairs, and embracing Fonzo exclaimed, "My husband! my heart! where have you been all this time?"
Fonzo immediately perceived that Canneloro had come to this country, and had left it again; so he resolved to examine the matter adroitly, to learn from the princess's discourse where he might be found; and hearing her say that he had put himself in such great danger by that accursed hunting, especially if the cruel ogre should meet him, he at once concluded that his friend must be there.
The next morning, as soon as the Sun had gone forth to give the gilded pills to the Sky, he jumped out of bed, and neither the prayers of Fenicia nor the commands of the king could keep him back, but he would go to the chase. So mounting his horse, he went with the enchanted dogs to the wood, where the same thing befell him that had befallen Canneloro; and entering the cave, he saw Canneloro's arms and dogs and horse fast bound, by which he became certain that his friend had there fallen into a snare. Then the doe told him in like manner to tie his arms, dogs and horse; but he instantly set them upon her, and they tore her to pieces. And as he was looking about for some other traces of his friend, he heard his voice down in the pit; so lifting up the stone he drew out Canneloro, with all the others whom the ogre had buried alive to fatten. Then embracing each other with great joy, the two friends went home, where Fenicia, seeing them so much alike, did not know which to choose for her husband; but when Canneloro took off his cap, she saw the wound, and recognized and embraced him. And after staying there a month, taking his amusement, Fonzo wished to return to his own country, and to go back to his nest; and Canneloro wrote by him to his mother, bidding her come and partake of his greatness, which she did, and from that time forward he never would hear either of dogs or of hunting, recollecting the saying,
"Unhappy is he who corrects himself at his own cost."
This story was ended just at the time when the Sun, like a student expelled from school, has an hour allowed him to take his departure from the fields of the Sky; whereupon the Prince commanded Fabiello, the master of the robes, and Ghiacovuccio, the steward of the household, to be called, that they should come and give the dessert to the day's feast. And lo! they appeared as quick as the constable, one clothed in long black stockings, a coat in the shape of a bell, with buttons as big as a football, and a flat cap drawn over his ears; the other, with a trencher-cap, a doublet, and tight yellow flannel pantaloons. Then entering a bower of myrtle, which served as a scene, these two began a pleasant pastoral dialogue, accompanied with such gestures and grimaces that it threw all who heard it into fits of laughter[7]. But as the grasshoppers were now beginning to call the folks home from the fields, the Prince dismissed the women, requesting them to return the following morning and continue the amusement; then, accompanied by the Slave, he retired to his chamber.
1. A saying well known also in Germany.
2. i.e. 'I am no longer a child or a fool.'
3. See Ovid's Fasti, v. 229, et seq.
4. Requie, scarpe, e zoccoli.-The two first words are a corruption of requiescat in pace, and zoccoli (slippers) is added to answer to scarpe (shoes); or because the Frati Zoccolanti (Franciscans) usually attended funerals. The dead were borne to the grave drest, and with shoes on them.
5. Basile forgot that this was the name of Canneloro's birthplace, from whence he set out.
6. Cardascio,—an intimate friend—an Arabic word, Cardasch.
7. Che potive cacciare li diente da quante le 'ntesero. Literally, 'that you might draw the teeth of all who heard them,'—to express their grinning.
