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Stories from Pentamerone

by Giambattista Basile

May, 2000  [Etext #2198]


Project Gutenberg Etexts from Pentamerone, by Giambattista Basile
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Transcribed by Batsy Bybell, cgale@turbonet.com





Stories from Pentamerone

by Giambattista Basile




NOTE

The collection of folk-tales known as Il Pentamerone was first
published at Naples and in the Neopolitan dialect, by Giambattista
Basile, Conte di Torrone, who is believed to have collected them
chiefly in Crete and Venice, and to have died about the year 1637.




CONTENTS

1.  How the Tales came to be told
2.  The Myrtle
3.  Peruonto
4.  Vardiello
5.  The Flea
6.  Cenerentola
7.  The Merchant
8.  Goat-Face
9.  The Enchanted Doe
10. Parsley
11. The Three Sisters
12. Violet
13. Pippo
14. The Serpent
15. The She-Bear
16. The Dove
17. Cannetella
18. Corvetto
19. The Booby
20. The Stone in the Cock's Head
21. The Three Enchanted Princes
22. The Dragon
23. The Two Cakes
24. The Seven Doves
25. The Raven
26. The Months
27. Pintosmalto
28. The Golden Root
29. Sun, Moon, and Talia
30. Nennillo and Nennella
31. The Three Citrons
32. Conclusion




I
HOW THE TALES CAME TO BE TOLD

It is an old saying, that he who seeks what he should not, finds
what he would not. Every one has heard of the ape who, in trying
to pull on his boots, was caught by the foot. And it happened in
like manner to a wretched slave, who, although she never had
shoes to her feet, wanted to wear a crown on her head. But the
straight road is the best; and, sooner or later, a day comes which
settles all accounts. At last, having by evil means usurped what
belonged to another, she fell to the ground; and the higher she had
mounted, the greater was her fall--as you shall see.


Once upon a time the King of Woody Valley had a daughter
named Zoza, who was never seen to laugh. The unhappy father,
who had no other comfort in life but this only daughter, left
nothing untried to drive away her melancholy. So he sent for folks
who walk on stilts, fellows who jump through hoops, for boxers,
for conjurers, for jugglers who perform sleight-of-hand tricks, for
strong men, for dancing dogs, for leaping clowns, for the donkey
that drinks out of a tumbler--in short, he tried first one thing and
then another to make her laugh. But all was time lost, for nothing
could bring a smile to her lips.

So at length the poor father, at wit's end, and to make a last trial,
ordered a large fountain of oil to be set in front of the palace gates,
thinking to himself that when the oil ran down the street, along
which the people passed like a troop of ants, they would be
obliged, in order not to soil their clothes, to skip like grasshoppers,
leap like goats, and run like hares; while one would go picking and
choosing his way, and another go creeping along the wall. In short,
he hoped that something might come to pass to make his daughter
laugh.

So the fountain was made; and as Zoza was one day standing at the
window, grave and demure, and looking as sour as vinegar, there
came by chance an old woman, who, soaking up the oil with a
sponge, began to fill a little pitcher which she had brought with
her. And as she was labouring hard at this ingenious device, a
young page of the court passing by threw a stone so exactly to a
hair that he hit the pitcher and broke it to pieces. Whereupon the
old woman, who had no hair on her tongue, turned to the page, full
of wrath, and exclaimed, "Ah, you impertinent young dog, you
mule, you gallows-rope, you spindle-legs! Ill luck to you! May you
be pierced by a Catalan lance! May a thousand ills befall you and
something more to boot, you thief, you knave!"

The lad, who had little beard and less discretion, hearing this string
of abuse, repaid the old woman in her own coin, saying, "Have you
done, you grandmother of witches, you old hag, you child-strangler!"

When the old woman heard these compliments she flew into such
a rage that, losing hold of the bridle and escaping from the stable
of patience, she acted as if she were mad, cutting capers in the air
and grinning like an ape. At this strange spectacle Zoza burst into
such a fit of laughter that she well-nigh fainted away. But when the
old woman saw herself played this trick, she flew into a passion,
and turning a fierce look on Zoza she exclaimed: "May you never
have the least little bit of a husband, unless you take the Prince of
Round-Field."

Upon hearing this, Zoza ordered the old woman to be called; and
desired to know whether, in her words, she had laid on her a curse,
or had only meant to insult her. And the old woman answered,
"Know then, that the Prince of whom I spoke is a most handsome
creature, and is named Taddeo, who, by the wicked spell of a fairy,
having given the last touch to the picture of life, has been placed in
a tomb outside the walls of the city; and there is an inscription
upon a stone, saying that whatever woman shall in three days fill
with tears a pitcher that hangs there upon a hook will bring the
Prince to life and shall take him for a husband. But as it is
impossible for two human eyes to weep so much as to fill a pitcher
that would hold half a barrel, I have wished you this wish in return
for your scoffing and jeering at me. And I pray that it may come to
pass, to avenge the wrong you have done me." So saying, she
scuttled down the stairs, for fear of a beating.

Zoza pondered over the words of the old woman, and after turning
over a hundred thoughts in her mind, until her head was like a mill
full of doubts, she was at last struck by a dart of the passion that
blinds the judgment and puts a spell on the reasoning of man. She
took a handful of dollars from her father's coffers and left the
palace, walking on and on, until she arrived at the castle of a fairy,
to whom she unburdened her heart. The fairy, out of pity for such a
fair young girl, who had two spurs to make her fall--little help and
much love for an unknown object--gave her a letter of
recommendation to a sister of hers, who was also a fairy. And this
second fairy received her likewise with great kindness; and on the
following morning, when Night commands the birds to proclaim
that whoever has seen a flock of black shadows gone astray shall
be well rewarded, she gave her a beautiful walnut, saying, "Take
this, my dear daughter, and keep it carefully; but never open it, but
in time of the greatest need." And then she gave her also a letter,
commending her to another sister.

After journeying a long way, Zoza arrived at this fairy's castle, and
was received with the same affection. And the next morning this
fairy likewise gave her a letter to another sister, together with a
chestnut, cautioning her in the same manner. Then Zoza travelled
on to the next castle, where she was received with a thousand
caresses and given a filbert, which she was never to open, unless
the greatest necessity obliged her. So she set out upon her journey,
and passed so many forests and rivers, that at the end of seven
years, just at the time of day when the Sun, awakened by the
coming of the cocks, has saddled his steed to run his accustomed
stages, she arrived almost lame at Round-Field.

There, at the entrance to the city, she saw a marble tomb, at the
foot of a fountain, which was weeping tears of crystal at seeing
itself shut up in a porphyry prison. And, lifting up the pitcher, she
placed it in her lap and began to weep into it, imitating the
fountain to make two little fountains of her eyes. And thus she
continued without ever raising her head from the mouth of the
pitcher--until, at the end of two days, it was full within two inches
of the top. But, being wearied with so much weeping, she was
unawares overtaken by sleep, and was obliged to rest for an hour
or so under the canopy of her eyes. 

Meanwhile a certain Slave, with the legs of a grasshopper, came,
as she was wont, to the fountain, to fill her water-cask. Now she
knew the meaning of the fountain which was talked of
everywhere; and when she saw Zoza weeping so incessantly, and
making two little streams from her eyes, she was always watching
and spying until the pitcher should be full enough for her to add
the last drops to it; and thus to leave Zoza cheated of her hopes.
Now, therefore, seeing Zoza asleep, she seized her opportunity;
and dexterously removing the pitcher from under Zoza, and
placing her own eyes over it, she filled it in four seconds. But
hardly was it full, when the Prince arose from the white marble
shrine, as if awakened from a deep sleep, and embraced that mass
of dark flesh, and carried her straightways to his palace; feasts and
marvellous illuminations were made, and he took her for his wife.

When Zoza awoke and saw the pitcher gone, and her hopes with it,
and the shrine open, her heart grew so heavy that she was on the
point of unpacking the bales of her soul at the custom-house of
Death. But, at last, seeing that there was no help for her
misfortune, and that she could only blame her own eyes, which
had served her so ill, she went her way, step by step, into the city.
And when she heard of the feasts which the Prince had made, and
the dainty creature he had married, she instantly knew how all this
mischief had come to pass; and said to herself, sighing, "Alas, two
dark things have brought me to the ground,--sleep and a black
slave!" Then she took a fine house facing the palace of the Prince;
from whence, though she could not see the idol of her heart, she
could at least look upon the walls wherein what she sighed for was
enclosed.

But Taddeo, who was constantly flying like a bat round that black
night of a Slave, chanced to perceive Zoza and was entranced with
her beauty. When the Slave saw this she was beside herself with
rage, and vowed that if Taddeo did not leave the window, she
would kill her baby when it was born.

Taddeo, who was anxiously desiring an heir, was afraid to offend
his wife and tore himself away from the sight of Zoza; who seeing
this little balm for the sickness of her hopes taken away from her,
knew not, at first, what to do. But, recollecting the fairies' gifts,
she opened the walnut, and out of it hopped a little dwarf like a
doll, the most graceful toy that was ever seen in the world. Then,
seating himself upon the window, the dwarf began to sing with
such a trill and gurgling, that he seemed a veritable king of the
birds.

The Slave, when she saw and heard this, was so enraptured that,
calling Taddeo, she said, "Bring me the little fellow who is singing
yonder, or I will kill the child when it is born." So the Prince, who
allowed this ugly woman to put the saddle on his back, sent
instantly to Zoza, to ask if she would not sell the dwarf. Zoza
answered she was not a merchant, but that he was welcome to it as
a gift. So Taddeo accepted the offer, for he was anxious to keep
his wife in good humour.

Four days after this, Zoza opened the chestnut, when out came a
hen with twelve little chickens, all of pure gold, and, being placed
on the window, the Slave saw them and took a vast fancy to them;
and calling Taddeo, she showed him the beautiful sight, and again
ordered him to procure the hen and chickens for her. So Taddeo,
who let himself be caught in the web, and become the sport of the
ugly creature, sent again to Zoza, offering her any price she might
ask for the beautiful hen. But Zoza gave the same answer as
before, that he might have it as a gift. Taddeo, therefore, who
could not do otherwise, made necessity kick at discretion, and
accepted the beautiful present.

But after four days more, Zoza opened the hazel-nut, and forth
came a doll which spun gold--an amazing sight. As soon as it was
placed at the same window, the Slave saw it and, calling to
Taddeo, said, "I must have that doll, or I will kill the child."
Taddeo, who let his proud wife toss him about like a shuttle, had
nevertheless not the heart to send to Zoza for the doll, but resolved
to go himself, recollecting the sayings: "No messenger is better
than yourself," and "Let him who would eat a fish take it by the
tail." So he went and besought Zoza to pardon his impertinence,
on account of the caprices of his wife; and Zoza, who was in
ecstasies at beholding the cause of her sorrow, put a constraint on
herself; and so let him entreat her the longer to keep in sight the
object of her love, who was stolen from her by an ugly slave. At
length she gave him the doll, as she had done the other things, but
before placing it in his hands, she prayed the little doll to put a
desire into the heart of the Slave to hear stories told by her. And
when Taddeo saw the doll in his hand, without his paying a single
coin, he was so filled with amazement at such courtesy that he
offered his kingdom and his life in exchange for the gift. Then,
returning to his palace, he placed it in his wife's hands; and
instantly such a longing seized her to hear stories told, that she
called her husband and said, "Bid some story-tellers come and tell
me stories, or I promise you, I will kill the child."

Taddeo, to get rid of this madness, ordered a proclamation
instantly to be made, that all the women of the land should come
on the appointed day. And on that day, at the hour when the star of
Venus appears, who awakes the Dawn, to strew the road along
which the Sun has to pass, the ladies were all assembled at the
palace. But Taddeo, not wishing to detain such a rabble for the
mere amusement of his wife, chose ten only of the best of the city
who appeared to him most capable and eloquent. These were
Bushy-haired Zeza, Bandy-legged Cecca, Wen-necked Meneca,
Long-nosed Tolla, Humph-backed Popa, Bearded Antonella,
Dumpy Ciulla, Blear-eyed Paola, Bald-headed Civonmetella, and
Square-shouldered Jacova. Their names he wrote down on a sheet
of paper; and then, dismissing the others, he arose with the Slave
from under the canopy, and they went gently to the garden of the
palace, where the leafy branches were so closely interlaced, that
the Sun could not separate them with all the industry of his rays.
And seating themselves under a pavilion, formed by a trellis of
vines, in the middle of which ran a great fountain--the
schoolmaster of the courtiers, whom he taught everyday to
murmur--Taddeo thus began:

"There is nothing in the world more glorious, my gentle dames,
than to listen to the deeds of others; nor was it without reason that
the great philosopher placed the highest happiness of man in
listening to pretty stories. In hearing pleasing things told, griefs
vanish, troublesome thoughts are put to flight and life is
lengthened. And, for this reason, you see the artisans leave their
workshops, the merchants their country-houses, the lawyers their
cases, the shopkeepers their business, and all repair with open
mouths to the barbers' shops and to the groups of chatterers, to
listen to stories, fictions, and news in the open air. I cannot,
therefore, but pardon my wife, who has taken this strange fancy
into her head of hearing the telling of tales. So, if you will be
pleased to satisfy the whim of the Princess and comply with my
wishes, you will, during the next four or five days, .each of you
relate daily one of those tales which old women are wont to tell for
the amusement of the little ones. And you will come regularly to
this spot; where, after a good repast, you shall begin to tell stories,
so as to pass life pleasantly--and sorrow to him that dies!"

At these words, all bowed assent to the commands of Taddeo; and
the tables being meanwhile set out and feast spread, they sat down
to eat. And when they had done eating, the Prince took the paper
and calling on each in turn, by name, the stories that follow were
told, in due order.



II
THE MYRTLE

There lived in the village of Miano a man and his wife, who had
no children whatever, and they longed with the greatest eagerness
to have an heir. The woman, above all, was for ever saying, "O
heavens! if I might but have a little baby--I should not care, were it
even a sprig of a myrtle." And she repeated this song so often, and
so wearied Heaven with these words, that at last her wish was
granted; and at the end of nine months, instead of a little boy or
girl, she placed in the hands of the nurse a fine sprig of myrtle.
This she planted with great delight in a pot, ornamented with ever
so many beautiful figures, and set it in the window, tending it
morning and evening with more diligence than the gardener does a
bed of cabbages from which he reckons to pay the rent of his
garden.

Now the King's son happening to pass by, as he was going to hunt,
took a prodigious fancy to this beautiful plant, and sent to ask the
mistress of the house if she would sell it, for he would give even
one of his eyes for it. The woman at last, after a thousand
difficulties and refusals, allured by his offers, dazzled by his
promises, frightened by his threats, overcome by his prayers, gave
him the pot, beseeching him to hold it dear, for she loved it more
than a daughter, and valued it as much as if it were her own
offspring. Then the Prince had the flower-pot carried with the
greatest care in the world into his own chamber, and placed it in a
balcony, and tended and watered it with his own hand.

It happened one evening, when the Prince had gone to bed, and put
out the candles, and all were at rest and in their first sleep, that he
heard the sound of some one stealing through the house, and
coming cautiously towards his bed; whereat he thought it must be
some chamber-boy coming to lighten his purse for him, or some
mischievous imp to pull the bed-clothes off him. But as he was a
bold fellow, whom none could frighten, he acted the dead cat,
waiting to see the upshot of the affair. When he perceived the
object approach nearer, and stretching out his hand felt something
smooth, and instead of laying hold, as he expected, on the prickles
of a hedgehog, he touched a little creature more soft and fine than
Barbary wool, more pliant and tender than a marten's tail, more
delicate than thistle-down, he flew from one thought to another,
and taking her to be a fairy (as indeed she was), he conceived at
once a great affection for her. The next morning, before the Sun,
like a chief physician, went out to visit the flowers that are sick
and languid, the unknown fair one rose and disappeared, leaving
the Prince filled with curiosity and wonder.

But when this had gone on for seven days, he was burning and
melting with desire to know what good fortune this was that the
stars had showered down on him, and what ship freighted with the
graces of Love it was that had come to its moorings in his
chamber. So one night, when the fair maiden was fast asleep, he
tied one of her tresses to his arm, that she might not escape; then
he called a chamberlain, and bidding him light the candles, he saw
the flower of beauty, the miracle of women, the looking-glass and
painted egg of Venus, the fair bait of Love--he saw a little doll, a
beautiful dove, a Fata Morgana, a banner--he saw a golden trinket,
a hunter, a falcon's eye, a moon in her fifteenth day, a pigeon's
bill, a morsel for a king, a jewel--he saw, in short, a sight to amaze
one.

In astonishment he cried, "O sleep, sweet sleep! heap poppies on
the eyes of this lovely jewel; interrupt not my delight in viewing as
long as I desire this triumph of beauty. O lovely tress that binds
me! O lovely eyes that inflame me! O lovely lips that refresh me!
O lovely bosom that consoles me! Oh where, at what shop of the
wonders of Nature, was this living statue made? What India gave
the gold for these hairs? What Ethiopia the ivory to form these
brows? What seashore the carbuncles that compose these eyes?
What Tyre the purple to dye this face? What East the pearls to
string these teeth? And from what mountains was the snow taken
to sprinkle over this bosom--snow contrary to nature, that nurtures
the flowers and burns hearts?"

So saying he made a vine of his arms, and clasping her neck, she
awoke from her sleep and replied, with a gentle smile, to the sigh
of the enamoured Prince; who, seeing her open her eyes, said, "O
my treasure, if viewing without candles this temple of love I was
in transports, what will become of my life now that you have
lighted two lamps? O beauteous eyes, that with a trump-card of
light make the stars bankrupt, you alone have pierced this heart,
you alone can make a poultice for it like fresh eggs! O my lovely
physician, take pity, take pity on one who is sick of love; who,
having changed the air from the darkness of night to the light of
this beauty, is seized by a fever; lay your hand on this heart, feel
my pulse, give me a prescription. But, my soul, why do I ask for a
prescription? I desire no other comfort than a touch of that little
hand; for I am certain that with the cordial of that fair grace, and
with the healing root of that tongue of thine, I shall be sound and
well again."

At these words the lovely fairy grew as red as fire, and replied,
"Not so much praise, my lord Prince! I am your servant, and would
do anything in the world to serve that kingly face; and I esteem it
great good fortune that from a bunch of myrtle, set in a pot of
earth, I have become a branch of laurel hung over the inn-door of a
heart in which there is so much greatness and virtue."

The Prince, melting at these words like a tallow-candle, began
again to embrace her; and sealing the latter with a kiss, he gave her
his hand, saying, "Take my faith, you shall be my wife, you shall
be mistress of my sceptre, you shall have the key of this heart, as
you hold the helm of this life." After these and a hundred other
ceremonies and discourses they arose. And so it went on for
several days.

But as spoil-sport, marriage-parting Fate is always a hindrance to
the steps of Love, it fell out that the Prince was summoned to hunt
a great wild boar which was ravaging the country. So he was
forced to leave his wife. But as he loved her more than his life, and
saw that she was beautiful beyond all beautiful things, from this
love and beauty there sprang up the feeling of jealousy, which is a
tempest in the sea of love, a piece of soot that falls into the pottage
of the bliss of lovers--which is a serpent that bites, a worm that
gnaws, a gall that poisons, a frost that kills, making life always
restless, the mind unstable, the heart ever suspicious. So, calling
the fairy, he said to her, "I am obliged, my heart, to be away from
home for two or three days; Heaven knows with how much grief I
tear myself from you, who are my soul; and Heaven knows too
whether, ere I set out, my life may not end; but as I cannot help
going, to please my father, I must leave you. I, therefore, pray you,
by all the love you bear me, to go back into the flower-pot, and not
to come out of it till I return, which will be as soon as possible."

"I will do so," said the fairy, "for I cannot and will not refuse what
pleases you. Go, therefore, and may the mother of good luck go
with you, for I will serve you to the best of my power. But do me
one favour; leave a thread of silk with a bell tied to the top of the
myrtle, and when you come back pull the thread and ring, and
immediately I will come out and say,  Here I am.'"

The Prince did so, and then calling a chamberlain, said to him,
"Come hither, come hither, you! Open your ears and mind what I
say. Make this bed every evening, as if I were myself to sleep in it.
Water this flower-pot regularly, and mind, I have counted the
leaves, and if I find one missing I will take from you the means of
earning your bread." So saying he mounted his horse, and went,
like a sheep that is led to the slaughter, to follow a boar. In the
meanwhile seven wicked women, with whom the Prince had been
acquainted, began to grow jealous; and being curious to pry into
the secret, they sent for a mason, and for a good sum of money got
him to make an underground passage from their house into the
Prince's chamber. Then these cunning jades went through the
passage in order to explore. But finding nothing, they opened the
window; and when they saw the beautiful myrtle standing there,
each of them plucked a leaf from it; but the youngest took off the
entire top, to which the little bell was hung; and the moment it was
touched the bell tinkled and the fairy, thinking it was the Prince,
immediately came out.

As soon as the wicked women saw this lovely creature they
fastened their talons on her, crying, "You are she who turns to your
own mill the stream of our hopes! You it is who have stolen the
favour of the Prince! But you are come to an end of your tricks, my
fine lady! You are nimble enough in running off, but you are
caught in your tricks this time, and if you escape, you were never
born."

So saying, they flew upon her, and instantly tore her in pieces, and
each of them took her part. But the youngest would not join in this
cruel act; and when she was invited by her sisters to do as they did,
she would take nothing but a lock of those golden hairs. So when
they had done they went quickly away by the passage through
which they had come.

Meanwhile the chamberlain came to make the bed and water the
flower-pot, according to his master's orders, and seeing this pretty
piece of work, he had like to have died of terror. Then, biting his
nails with vexation, he set to work, gathered up the remains of the
flesh and bones that were left, and scraping the blood from the
floor, he piled them all up in a heap in the pot; and having watered
it, he made the bed, locked the door, put the key under the door,
and taking to his heels ran away out of the town.

When the Prince came back from the chase, he pulled the silken
string and rung the little bell; but ring as he would it was all lost
time; he might sound the tocsin, and ring till he was tired, for the
fairy gave no heed. So he went straight to the chamber, and not
having patience to call the chamberlain and ask for the key, he
gave the lock a kick, burst open the door, went in, opened the
window, and seeing the myrtle stript of its leaves, he fell to
making a most doleful lamentation, crying, shouting, and bawling,
"O wretched me! unhappy me! O miserable me! Who has played
me this trick? and who has thus trumped my card? O ruined,
banished, and undone prince! O my leafless myrtle! my lost fairy!
O my wretched life! my joys vanished into smoke! my pleasures
turned to vinegar! What will you do, unhappy man! Leap quickly
over this ditch! You have fallen from all happiness, and will you
not cut your throat? You are robbed of every treasure! You are
expelled from life, and do you not go mad? Where are you? where
are you, my myrtle? And what soul more hard than marble has
destroyed this beautiful flower-pot? O cursed chase, that has
chased me from all happiness! Alas! I am done for, I am
overthrown, I am ruined, I have ended my days; it is not possible
for me to get through life without my life; I must stretch my legs,
since without my love sleep will be lamentation, food, poison,
pleasure insipid, and life sour."

These and many other exclamations that would move the very
stones in the streets, were uttered by the Prince; and after repeating
them again and again, and wailing bitterly, full of sorrow and woe,
never shutting an eye to sleep, nor opening his mouth to eat, he
gave such way to grief, that his face, which was before of oriental
vermilion, became of gold paint, and the ham of his lips became
rusty bacon.

The fairy, who had sprouted up again from the remains that were
put in the pot, seeing the misery and tribulation of her poor lover,
and how he was turned in a second to the colour of a sick
Spaniard, of a venomous lizard, of the sap of a leaf, of a jaundiced
person, of a dried pear, was moved with compassion; and
springing out of the pot, like the light of a candle shooting out of a
dark lantern, she stood before Cola Marchione, and embracing him
in her arms she said, "Take heart, take heart, my Prince! have done
now with this lamenting, wipe your eyes, quiet your anger, smooth
your face. Behold me alive and handsome, in spite of those wicked
women, who split my head and so ill-treated me."

The Prince, seeing this when he least expected it, arose again from
death to life, and the colour returned to his cheeks, warmth to his
blood, breath to his breast. After giving her a thousand caresses
and embraces, he desired to know the whole affair from head to
foot; and when he found that the chamberlain was not to blame, he
ordered him to be called, and giving a great banquet, he, with the
full consent of his father, married the fairy. And he invited all the
great people of the kingdom, but, above all others, he would have
present those seven serpents who had committed the slaughter of
that sweet suckling-calf. 

And as soon as they had done eating, the Prince asked all the
guests, one after another, what he deserved who had injured that
beautiful maiden--pointing to the fairy, who looked so lovely that
she shot hearts like a sprite and drew souls like a windlass.

Then all who sat at table, beginning with the King, said, one that
he deserved the gallows, another that he merited the wheel, a third
the pincers, a fourth to be thrown from a precipice; in short one
proposed this punishment and another that. At last it came to the
turn of the seven wicked women to speak, who, although they did
not much relish this conversation, yet, as the truth comes out when
the wine goes about, answered, that whoever had the heart basely
to touch only this quintessence of the charms of love deserved to
be buried alive in a dungeon.

"As you have pronounced this sentence with your own lips," said
the Prince, "you have yourselves judged the cause, you have
yourselves signed the decree. It remains for me to cause your order
to be executed, since it is you who with the heart of a negro, with
the cruelty of Medea, made a fritter of this beautiful head, and
chopped up these lovely limbs like sausage-meat. So quick, make
haste, lose not a moment! throw them this very instant into a large
dungeon, where they shall end their days miserably."

So this order was instantly carried into execution. The Prince
married the youngest sister of these wicked creatures to the
chamberlain, and gave her a good portion. And giving also to the
father and mother of the myrtle wherewithal to live comfortably,
he himself spent his days happily with the fairy; while the wicked
women ended their lives in bitter anguish, and thus verified the
proverb of the wise men of old--

     "The lame goat will hop
     If he meets with no stop."



III

PERUONTO

A good deed is never lost. He who sows courtesy reaps benefit;
and he who gathers kindness gathers love. Pleasure bestowed on a
grateful mind was never barren, but always brings a good
recompense; and that is the moral of the story I am going to tell
you.

Once upon a time a woman who lived in a village, and was called
Ceccarella, had a son named Peruonto, who was one of the most
stupid lads that ever was born. This made his mother very
unhappy, and all day long she would grieve because of this great
misfortune. For whether she asked him kindly, or stormed at him
till her throat was dry, the foolish fellow would not stir to do the
slightest hand's turn for her. At last, after a thousand dinnings at
his brain, and a thousand splittings of his head, and saying "I tell
you" and "I told you" day after day, she got him to go to the wood
for a faggot, saying, "Come now, it is time for us to get a morsel to
eat, so run off for some sticks, and don't forget yourself on the
way, but come back as quick as you can, and we will boil
ourselves some cabbage, to keep the life in us."

Away went the stupid Peruonto, hanging down his head as if he
was going to gaol. Away he went, walking as if he were a jackdaw,
or treading on eggs, counting his steps, at the pace of a snail's
gallop, and making all sorts of zigzags and excursions on his way
to the wood, to come there after the fashion of a raven. And when
he reached the middle of a plain, through which ran a river
growling and murmuring at the bad manners of the stones that
were stopping its way, he saw three youths who had made
themselves a bed of grass and a pillow of a great flint stone, and
were lying sound asleep under the blaze of the Sun, who was
shooting his rays down on them point blank. When Peruonto saw
these poor creatures, looking as if they were in the midst of a
fountain of fire, he felt pity for them, and cutting some branches of
oak, he made a handsome arbour over them. Meanwhile, the
youths, who were the sons of a fairy, awoke, and, seeing the
kindness and courtesy of Peruonto, they gave him a charm, that
every thing he asked for should be done.

Peruonto, having performed this good action, went his ways
towards the wood, where he made up such an enormous faggot
that it would have needed an engine to draw it; and, seeing that he
could not in any way get in on his back, he set himself astride of it
and cried, "Oh, what a lucky fellow I should be if this faggot
would carry me riding a-horseback!" And the word was hardly out
of his mouth when the faggot began to trot and gallop like a great
horse, and when it came in front of the King's palace it pranced
and capered and curvetted in a way that would amaze you. The
ladies who were standing at one of the windows, on seeing such a
wonderful sight, ran to call Vastolla, the daughter of the King,
who, going to the window and observing the caracoles of a faggot
and the bounds of a bundle of wood, burst out a-laughing--a thing
which, owing to a natural melancholy, she never remembered to
have done before. Peruonto raised his head, and, seeing that it was
at him that they were laughing, exclaimed, "Oh, Vastolla, I wish
that I could be your husband and I would soon cure you of
laughing at me!" And so saying, he struck his heels into the faggot,
and in a dashing gallop he was quickly at home, with such a train
of little boys at his heels that if his mother had not been quick to
shut the door they would soon have killed him with the stones and
sticks with which they pelted him.

Now came the question of marrying Vastolla to some great prince,
and her father invited all he knew to come and visit him and pay
their respects to the Princess. But she refused to have anything to
say to either of them, and only answered, "I will marry none but
the young man who rode on the faggot." So that the King got more
and more angry with every refusal, and at last he was quite unable
to contain himself any longer, and called his Council together and
said, "You know by this time how my honour has been shamed,
and that my daughter has acted in such a manner that all the
chronicles will tell the story against me, so now speak and advise
me. I say that she is unworthy to live, seeing that she has brought
me into such discredit, and I wish to put her altogether out of the
world before she does more mischief." The Councillors, who had
in their time learned much wisdom, said, "Of a truth she deserves
to be severely punished. But, after all, it is this audacious
scoundrel who has give you the annoyance, and it is not right that
he should escape through the meshes of the net. Let us wait, then,
till he comes to light, and we discover the root of this disgrace, and
then we will think it over and resolve what were best to be done."
This counsel pleased the King, for he saw that they spoke like
sensible, prudent men, so he held his hand and said, "Let us wait
and see the end of this business."

So then the King made a great banquet, and invited every one of
his nobles and all the gentlemen in his kingdom to come to it, and
set Vastolla at the high table at the top of the hall, for, he said, "No
common man can have done this, and when she recognises the
fellow we shall see her eyes turn to him, and we will instantly lay
hold on him and put him out of the way." But when the feasting
was done, and all the guests passed out in a line, Vastolla took no
more notice of them than Alexander's bull-dog did of the rabbits;
and the King grew more angry than ever, and vowed that he would
kill her without more delay. Again, however, the Councillors
pacified him and said, "Softly, softly, your Majesty! quiet your
wrath. Let us make another banquet to-morrow, not for people of
condition but for the lower sort. Some women always attach
themselves to the worst, and we shall find among the cutlers, and
bead-makers, and comb-sellers, the root of your anger, which we
have not discovered among the cavaliers."

This reasoning took the fancy of the King, and he ordered a second
banquet to be prepared, to which, on proclamation being made,
came all the riff-raff and rag-tag and bob-tail of the city, such as
rogues, scavengers, tinkers, pedlars, sweeps, beggars, and such like
rabble, who were all in high glee; and, taking their seats like
noblemen at a great long table, they began to feast and gobble
away.

Now, when Ceccarella heard this proclamation, she began to urge
Peruonto to go there too, until at last she got him to set out for the
feast. And scarcely had he arrived there when Vastolla cried out
without thinking, "That is my Knight of the Faggot." When the
King heard this he tore his beard, seeing that the bean of the cake,
the prize in the lottery, had fallen to an ugly lout, the very sight of
whom he could not endure, with a shaggy head, owl's eyes, a
parrot's nose, a deer's mouth, and legs bare and bandy. Then,
heaving a deep sigh, he said, "What can that jade of a daughter of
mine have seen to make her take a fancy to this ogre, or strike up a
dance with this hairy-foot? Ah, vile, false creature, who has cast so
base a spell on her? But why do we wait? Let her suffer the
punishment she deserves; let her undergo the penalty that shall be
decreed by you, and take her from my presence, for I cannot bear
to look longer upon her."

Then the Councillors consulted together and they resolved that
she, as well as the evil-doer, should be shut up in a cask and
thrown into the sea; so that without staining the King's hands with
the blood of one of his family, they should carry out the sentence.
No sooner was the judgment pronounced, than the cask was
brought and both were put into it; but before they coopered it up,
some of Vastolla's ladies, crying and sobbing as if their hearts
would break, put into it a basket of raisins and dried figs that she
might have wherewithal to live on for a little while. And when the
cask was closed up, it was flung into the sea, on which it went
floating as the wind drove it.

Meanwhile Vastolla, weeping till her eyes ran like two rivers, said
to Peruonto, "What a sad misfortune is this of ours! Oh, if I but
knew who has played me this trick, to have me caged in this
dungeon! Alas, alas, to find myself in this plight without knowing
how. Tell me, tell me, O cruel man, what incantation was it you
made, and what spell did you employ, to bring me within the circle
of this cask?" Peruonto, who had been for some time paying little
attention to her, at last said, "If you want me to tell you, you must
give me some figs and raisins." So Vastolla, to draw the secret out
of him, gave him a handful of both; and as soon as he had eaten
them he told her truly all that had befallen him, with the three
youths, and with the faggot, and with herself at the window:
which, when the poor lady heard, she took heart and said to
Peruonto, "My friend, shall we then let our lives run out in a cask?
Why don't you cause this tub to be changed into a fine ship and
run into some good harbour to escape this danger?" And Peruonto
replied--

     "If you would have me say the spell,
     With figs and raisins feed me well!"

So Vastolla, to make him open his mouth, filled it with fruit; and
so she fished the words out of him. And lo! as soon as Peruonto
had said what she desired, the cask was turned into a beautiful
ship; with sails and sailors and everything that could be wished
for; and guns and trumpets and a splendid cabin in which Vastolla
sat filled with delight.

It being now the hour when the Moon begins to play at see-saw
with the Sun, Vastolla said to Peruonto, "My fine lad, now make
this ship to be changed into a palace, for then we shall be more
secure; you know the saying, "Praise the Sea, but keep to the
Land." And Peruonto replied--

     "If you would have me say the spell,
     With figs and raisins feed me well!"

So Vastolla, at once, fed him again, and Peruonto, swallowing
down the raisins and figs, did her pleasure; and immediately the
ship came to land and was changed into a beautiful palace, fitted
up in a most sumptuous manner, and so full of furniture and
curtains and hangings that there was nothing more to ask for. So
that Vastolla, who a little before would not have set the price of a
farthing on her life, did not now wish to change places with the
greatest lady in the world, seeing herself served and treated like a
queen. Then to put the seal on all her good fortune, she besought
Peruonto to obtain grace to become handsome and polished in his
manner, that they might live happy together; for though the
proverb says, "Better to have a pig for a husband, than a smile
from an emperor," still, if his appearance were changed, she
should think herself the happiest woman in the universe. And
Peruonto replied as before--

     "If you would have me say the spell,
     With figs and raisins feed me well!"

Then Vastolla quickly opened his lips, and scarcely had he spoken
the words when he was changed, as it were from an owl to a
nightingale, from an ogre to a beautiful youth, from a scarecrow to
a fine gentleman. Vastolla, seeing such a transformation clasped
him in her arms and was almost beside herself with joy. Then they
were married and lived happily for years.

Meanwhile the King grew old and very sad, so that, one day, the
courtiers persuaded him to go a-hunting to cheer him up. Night
overtook him, and, seeing a light in a palace, he sent a servant to
know if he could be entertained there; and he was answered that
everything was at his disposal. So the King went to the palace and
passing into a great guest-chamber he saw no living soul, but two
little boys, who skipped around him crying, "Welcome, welcome!"
The King, surprised and astonished, stood like one that was
enchanted, and sitting down to rest himself at a table, to his
amazement he saw invisibly spread on it a Flanders tablecloth,
with dishes full of roast meats and all sorts of viands; so that, in
truth, he feasted like a King, waited on by those beautiful children,
and all the while he sat at table a concert of lutes and tambourines
never ceased--such delicious music that it went to the tips of his
fingers and toes. When he had done eating, a bed suddenly
appeared all made of gold, and having his boots taken off, he went
to rest and all his courtiers did the same, after having fed heartily
at a hundred tables, which were laid out in the other rooms.

When morning came, the King wished to thank the two little
children, but with them appeared Vastolla and her husband; and
casting herself at his feet she asked his pardon and related the
whole story. The King, seeing that he had found two grandsons
who were two jewels and a son-in-law who was a fairy, embraced
first one and then the other; and taking up the children in his arms,
they all returned to the city where there was a great festival that
lasted many days.



IV

VARDIELLO

If Nature had given to animals the necessity of clothing
themselves, and of buying their food, the race of quadrupeds
would inevitably be destroyed. Therefore it is that they find their
food without trouble,--without gardener to gather it, purchaser to
buy it, cook to prepare it, or carver to cut it up; whilst their skin
defends them from the rain and snow, without the merchant giving
them cloth, the tailor making the dress, or the errand-boy begging
for a drink-penny. To man however, who has intelligence, Nature
did not care to grant these indulgences, since he is able to procure
for himself what he wants. This is the reason that we commonly
see clever men poor, and blockheads rich; as you may gather from
the story which I am going to tell you.

Grannonia of Aprano was a woman of a great sense and judgment,
but she had a son named Vardiello, who was the greatest booby
and simpleton in the whole country round about. Nevertheless, as a
mother's eyes are bewitched and see what does not exist, she doted
upon him so much, that she was for ever caressing and fondling
him as if he were the handsomest creature in the world.

Now Grannonia kept a brood-hen, that was sitting upon a nest of
eggs, in which she placed all her hope, expecting to have a fine
brood of chickens, and to make a good profit of them. And having
one day to go out on some business, she called her son, and said to
him, "My pretty son of your own mother, listen to what I say: keep
your eye upon the hen, and if she should get up to scratch and pick,
look sharp and drive her back to the nest; for otherwise the eggs
will grow cold, and then we shall have neither eggs nor chickens."

"Leave it to me," replied Vardiello, "you are not speaking to deaf
ears."

"One thing more," said the mother; "look-ye, my blessed son, in
yon cupboard is a pot full of certain poisonous things; take care
that ugly Sin does not tempt you to touch them, for they would
make you stretch your legs in a trice."

"Heaven forbid!" replied Vardiello, "poison indeed will not tempt
me; but you have done wisely to give me the warning; for if I had
got at it, I should certainly have eaten it all up."

Thereupon the mother went out, but Vardiello stayed behind; and,
in order to lose no time, he went into the garden to dig holes,
which he covered with boughs and earth, to catch the little thieves
who come to steal the fruit. And as he was in the midst of his
work, he saw the hen come running out of the room, whereupon he
began to cry, "Hish, hish! this way, that way!" But the hen did not
stir a foot; and Vardiello, seeing that she had something of the
donkey in her, after crying "Hish, hish," began to stamp with his
feet; and after stamping with his feet to throw his cap at her, and
after the cap a cudgel which hit her just upon the pate, and made
her quickly stretch her legs.

When Vardiello saw this sad accident, he bethought himself how
to remedy the evil; and making a virtue of necessity, in order to
prevent the eggs growing cold, he set himself down upon the nest;
but in doing so, he gave the eggs an unlucky blow, and quickly
made an omelet of them. In despair at what he had done, he was on
the point of knocking his head against the wall; at last, however, as
all grief turns to hunger, feeling his stomach begin to grumble, he
resolved to eat up the hen. So he plucked her, and sticking her
upon a spit, he made a great fire, and set to work to roast her. And
when she was cooked, Vardiello, to do everything in due order,
spread a clean cloth upon an old chest; and then, taking a flagon,
he went down into the cellar to draw some wine. But just as he
was in the midst of drawing the wine, he heard a noise, a
disturbance, an uproar in the house, which seemed like the
clattering of horses' hoofs. Whereat starting up in alarm and
turning his eyes, he saw a big tom-cat, which had run off with the
hen, spit and all; and another cat chasing after him, mewing, and
crying out for a part.

Vardiello, in order to set this mishap to rights, darted upon the cat
like an unchained lion, and in his haste he left the tap of the barrel
running. And after chasing the cat through every hole and corner
of the house, he recovered the hen; but the cask had meanwhile all
run out; and when Vardiello returned, and saw the wine running
about, he let the cask of his soul empty itself through the tap-holes
of his eyes. But at last judgment came to his aid and he hit upon a
plan to remedy the mischief, and prevent his mother's finding out
what had happened; so, taking a sack of flour, filled full to the
mouth, he sprinkled it over the wine on the floor.

But when he meanwhile reckoned up on his fingers all the
disasters he had met with, and thought to himself that, from the
number of fooleries he had committed, he must have lost the game
in the good graces of Grannonia, he resolved in his heart not to let
his mother see him again alive. So thrusting his hand into the jar of
pickled walnuts which his mother had said contained poison, he
never stopped eating until he came to the bottom; and when he had
right well filled his stomach he went and hid himself in the oven.

In the meanwhile his mother returned, and stood knocking for a
long time at the door; but at last, seeing that no one came, she gave
it a kick; and going in, she called her son at the top of her voice.
But as nobody answered, she imagined that some mischief must
have happened, and with increased lamentation she went on crying
louder and louder, "Vardiello! Vardiello! are you deaf, that you
don't hear? Have you the cramp, that you don't run? Have you the
pip, that you don't answer? Where are you, you rogue? Where are
you hidden, you naughty fellow?"

Vardiello, on hearing all this hubbub and abuse, cried out at last
with a piteous voice, "Here I am! here I am in the oven; but you
will never see me again, mother!"

"Why so?" said the poor mother.

"Because I am poisoned," replied the son.

"Alas! alas!" cried Grannonia, "how came you to do that? What
cause have you had to commit this homicide? And who has given
you poison?" Then Vardiello told her, one after another, all the
pretty things he had done; on which account he wished to die and
not to remain any longer a laughing-stock in the world.

The poor woman, on hearing all this, was miserable and wretched,
and she had enough to do and to say to drive this melancholy
whimsey out of Vardiello's head. And being infatuated and
dotingly fond of him, she gave him some nice sweetmeats, and so
put the affair of the pickled walnuts out of his head, and convinced
him that they were not poison, but good and comforting to the
stomach. And having thus pacified him with cheering words, and
showered on him a thousand caresses, she drew him out of the
oven. Then giving him a fine piece of cloth, she bade him go and
sell it, but cautioning him not to do business with folks of too
many words.

"Tut, tut!" said Vardiello, "let me alone; I know what I'm about,
never fear." So saying, he took the cloth, and went his way through
the city of Naples, crying, "Cloth! cloth!" But whenever any one
asked him, "What cloth have you there?" he replied, "You are no
customer for me; you are a man of too many words." And when
another said to him, "How do you sell your cloth?" he called him a
chatterbox, who deafened him with his noise. At length he chanced
to espy, in the courtyard of a house which was deserted on account
of the Monaciello, a plaster statue; and being tired out, and
wearied with going about and about, he sat himself down on a
bench. But not seeing any one astir in the house, which looked like
a sacked village, he was lost in amazement, and said to the statue:
"Tell me, comrade, does no one live in this house?" Vardiello
waited awhile; but as the statue gave no answer, he thought this
surely was a man of few words. So he said, "Friend, will you buy
my cloth? I'll sell it you cheap." And seeing that the statue still
remained dumb, he exclaimed, "Faith, then, I've found my man at
last! There, take the cloth, examine it, and give me what you will;
to-morrow I'll return for the money."

So saying Vardiello left the cloth on the spot where he had been
sitting, and the first mother's son who passed that way found the
prize and carried it off.

When Vardiello returned home without the cloth, and told his
mother all that had happened, she wellnigh swooned away, and
said to him, "When will you put that headpiece of yours in order?
See now what tricks you have played me--only think! But I am
myself to blame, for being too tender-hearted, instead of having
given you a good beating at first; and now I perceive that a pitiful
doctor only makes the wound incurable. But you'll go on with your
pranks until at last we come to a serious falling-out, and then there
will be a long reckoning, my lad!"

"Softly, mother," replied Vardiello, "matters are not so bad as they
seem; do you want more than crown-pieces brand new from the
mint? Do you think me a fool, and that I don't know what I am
about? To-morrow is not yet here. Wait awhile, and you shall see
whether I know how to fit a handle to a shovel."

The next morning, as soon as the shades of Night, pursued by the
constables of the Sun, had fled the country, Vardiello repaired to
the courtyard where the statue stood, and said, "Good-day, friend!
Can you give me those few pence you owe me? Come, quick, pay
me for the cloth!" But when he saw that the statue remained
speechless, he took up a stone and hurled it at its breast with such
force that it burst a vein, which proved, indeed, the cure to his own
malady; for some pieces of the statue falling off, he discovered a
pot full of golden crown-pieces. Then taking it in both his hands,
off he ran home, head over heels, as far as he could scamper,
crying out, "Mother, mother! see here! what a lot of red lupins I've
got. How many! how many!"

His mother, seeing the crown-pieces, and knowing very well that
Vardiello would soon make the matter public, told him to stand at
the door until the man with milk and new-made cheese came past,
as she wanted to buy a pennyworth of milk. So Vardiello, who was
a great glutton, went quickly and seated himself at the door; and
his mother showered down from the window above raisins and
dried figs for more than half an hour. Whereupon Vardiello,
picking them up as fast as he could, cried aloud, "Mother, mother!
bring out some baskets; give me some bowls! Here, quick with the
tubs and buckets! for if it goes on to rain thus we shall be rich in a
trice." And when he had eaten his fill Vardiello went up to sleep.

It happened one day that two countrymen--the food and life-blood
of the law-courts--fell out, and went to law about a gold 
crown-piece which they had found on the ground. And Vardiello
passing by said, "What jackasses you are to quarrel about a red
lupin like this! For my part I don't value it at a pin's head, for I've
found a whole potful of them."

When the judge heard this he opened wide his eyes and ears, and
examined Vardiello closely, asking him how, when, and where he
had found the crowns. And Vardiello replied, "I found them in a
palace, inside a dumb man, when it rained raisins and dried figs."
At this the judge stared with amazement; but instantly seeing how
the matter stood, he decreed that Vardiello should be sent to a
madhouse, as the most competent tribunal for him. Thus the
stupidity of the son made the mother rich, and the mother's wit
found a remedy for the foolishness of the son: whereby it is clearly
seen that--

     "A ship when steered by a skilful hand
     Will seldom strike upon rock or sand."



V

THE FLEA

Resolutions taken without thought bring disasters without remedy.
He who behaves like a fool repents like a wise man; as happened
to the King of High-Hill, who through unexampled folly
committed an act of madness putting in jeopardy both his daughter
and his honour.

Once upon a time the King of High-Hill being bitten by a flea
caught him by a wonderful feat of dexterity; and seeing how
handsome and stately he was he had not the conscience to sentence
him to death. So he put him into a bottle, and feeding him every
day himself the little animal grew at such a rate that at the end of
seven months it was necessary to shift his quarters, for he was
grown bigger than a sheep. The King then had him flayed and his
skin dressed. Then he issued a proclamation that whoever could
tell what this skin was should marry the Princess.

As soon as this decree was made known the people flocked in
crowds from all the ends of the world to try their luck. One said
that it belonged to an ape, another to a lynx, a third to a crocodile,
and in short some gave it to one animal and some to another; but
they were all a hundred miles from the truth, and not one hit the
nail on the head. At last there came to this trial an ogre who was
the most ugly being in the world, the very sight of whom would
make the boldest man tremble and quake with fear. But no sooner
had he come and turned the skin round and smelt it than he
instantly guessed the truth, saying, "This skin belongs to the king
of fleas."

Now the King saw that the ogre had hit the mark; and not to break
his word he ordered his daughter Porziella to be called. Porziella
had a face like milk and roses, and was such a miracle of beauty
that you would never be tired of looking at her. And the King said
to her, "My daughter, you know who I am. I cannot go back from
my promise whether a king or a beggar. My word is given, I must
keep it though my heart should break. Who would ever have
imagined that this prize would have fallen to an ogre! But it never
does to judge hastily. Have patience then and do not oppose your
father; for my heart tells me that you will be happy, for rich
treasures are often found inside a rough earthen jar."


When Porziella heard this sad saying her eyes grew dim, her face
turned pale, her lips fell, her knees shook; and at last, bursting into
tears, she said to her father, "What crime have I committed that I
should be punished thus! How have I ever behaved badly toward
you that I should be given up to this monster. Is this, O Father, the
affection you bear to your own child? Is this the love you show to
her whom you used to call the joy of your soul? Do you drive from
your sight her who is the apple of your eye? O Father, O cruel
Father! Better had it been if my cradle had been my death-bed
since I have lived to see this evil day."

Porziella was going on to say more when the King in a furious rage
exclaimed, "Stay your anger! Fair and softly, for appearances
deceive. Is it for a girl to teach her father, forsooth? Have done, I
say, for if I lay these hands upon you I'll not leave a whole bone in
your skin. Prithee, how long has a child hardly out of the nursery
dared to oppose my will? Quick then, I say, take his hand and set
off with him home this very instant, for I will not have that saucy
face a minute longer in my sight."

Poor Porziella, seeing herself thus caught in the net, with the face
of a person condemned to death, with the heart of one whose head
is lying between the axe and the block, took the hand of the ogre,
who dragged her off without any attendants to the wood where the
trees made a palace for the meadow to prevent its being discovered
by the sun, and the brooks murmured, having knocked against the
stones in the dark, while the wild beasts wandered where they
liked without paying toll, and went safely through the thicket
whither no man ever came unless he had lost his way. Upon this
spot, which was as black as an unswept chimney, stood the ogre's
house ornamented all round with the bones of the men whom he
had devoured. Think but for a moment of the horror of it to the
poor girl.

But this was nothing at all in comparison with what was to come.
Before dinner she had peas and after dinner parched beans. Then
the ogre went out to hunt and returned home laden with the
quarters of the men whom he had killed, saying, "Now, wife, you
cannot complain that I don't take good care of you; here is a fine
store of eatables, take and make merry and love me well, for the
sky will fall before I will let you want for food."

Poor Porziella could not endure this horrible sight and turned her
face away. But when the ogre saw this he cried, "Ha! this is
throwing sweetmeats before swine; never mind, however, only
have patience till to-morrow morning, for I have been invited to a
wild boar hunt and will bring you home a couple of boars, and
we'll make a grand feast with our kinsfolk and celebrate the
wedding." So saying he went into the forest.

Now as Porziella stood weeping at the window it chanced that an
old woman passed by who, being famished with hunger, begged
some food. "Ah, my good woman," said Porziella, "Heaven knows
I am in the power of the ogre who brings me home nothing but
pieces of the men he has killed. I pass the most miserable life
possible, and yet I am the daughter of a king and have been
brought up in luxury." And so saying she began to cry like a little
girl who sees her bread and butter taken away from her.

The old woman's heart was softened at this sight and she said to
Porziella, "Be of good heart, my pretty girl, do not spoil your
beauty with crying, for you have met with luck; I can help you to
both saddle and trappings. Listen, now. I have seven sons who, you
see, are seven giants, Mase, Nardo, Cola, Micco, Petrullo,
Ascaddeo, and Ceccone, who have more virtues that rosemary,
especially Mase, for every time he lays his ear to the ground he
hears all that is passing within thirty miles round. Nardo, every
time he washes his hands, makes a great sea of soapsuds. Every
time that Cola throws a bit of iron on the ground he makes a field
of sharp razors. Whenever Micco flings down a little stick a
tangled wood springs up. If Petrullo lets fall a drop of water it
makes a terrible river. When Ascaddeo wishes a strong tower to
spring up he has only to throw a stone; and Ceccone shoots so
straight with the cross-bow that he can hit a hen's eye a mile off.
Now with the help of my sons, who are all courteous and friendly,
and who will all take compassion on your condition, I will contrive
to free you from the claws of the ogre."

"No time better than now," replied Porziella, "for that evil shadow
of a husband of mine has gone out and will not return this evening,
and we shall have time to slip off and run away."

"It cannot be this evening," replied the old woman, "for I live a
long way off; but I promise you that to-morrow morning I and my
sons will all come together and help you out of your trouble."

So saying, the old woman departed, and Porziella went to rest with
a light heart and slept soundly all night. But as soon as the birds
began to cry, "Long live the Sun," lo and behold, there was the old
woman with her seven children; and placing Porziella in the midst
of them they proceeded towards the city. But they had not gone
above half a mile when Mase put his ear to the ground and cried:
"Hallo, have a care; here's the fox. The ogre is come home. He has
missed his wife and he is hastening after us with his cap under his
arm."

No sooner did Nardo hear this than he washed his hands and made
a sea of soap-suds; and when the ogre came and saw all the suds
he ran home and fetching a sack of bran he strewed it about and
worked away treading it down with his feet until at last he got over
this obstacle, though with great difficulty.

But Mase put his ear once more to the ground and exclaimed,
"Look sharp, comrade, here he comes!" Thereupon Cola flung a
piece of iron on the ground and instantly a field of razors sprang
up. When the ogre saw the path stopped he ran home again and
clad himself in iron from head to foot and then returned and got
over this peril.

Then Mase, again putting his ear to the ground, cried, "Up! up! to
arms! to arms! For see here is the ogre coming at such a rate that
he is actually flying." But Micco was ready with his little stick,
and in an instant he caused a terrible wood to rise up, so thick that
it was quite impenetrable. When the ogre came to this difficult
pass he laid hold of a Carrara knife which he wore at his side, and
began to cut down the poplars and oaks and pine trees and chestnut
trees, right and left; so that with four or five strokes he had the
whole forest on the ground and got clear of it. Presently, Mase who
kept his ears on the alert like a hare, again raised his voice and
cried, "Now we must be off, for the ogre is coming like the wind
and here he is at our heels." As soon as Petrullo heard this he took
water from a little fountain, sprinkled it on the ground, and in an
twinkling of an eye a large river rose up on the spot. When the
ogre saw this new obstacle, and that he could not make holes so
fast as they found bungs to stop them, he stripped himself stark
naked and swam across to the other side of the river with his
clothes upon his head.

Mase, who put his ear to every chink, heard the ogre coming and
exclaimed, "Alas! matters go ill with us now. I already hear the
clatter of the ogre's heels. We must be on our guard and ready to
meet the storm or else we are done for." "Never fear," said
Ascaddeo, "I will soon settle this ugly ragamuffin." So saying, he
flung a pebble on the ground and instantly up rose a tower in
which they all took refuge without delay, and barred the door. But
when the ogre came up and saw that they had got into so safe a
place he ran home, got a vine-dresser's ladder, and carried it back
on his shoulder to the tower.

Now Mase, who kept his ears hanging down, heard at a distance
the approach of the ogre and cried, "We are now at the butt end of
the Candle of Hope. Ceccone is our last resource, for the ogre is
coming back in a terrible fury. Alas! how my heart beats, for I
foresee an evil day." "You coward," answered Ceccone, "trust to
me and I will hit him with a ball."

As Ceccone was speaking the ogre came, planted his ladder and
began to climb up; but Ceccone, taking aim at him, shot out one of
his eyes and laid him at full length on the ground, like a pear
dropped from a tree. Then he went out of the tower and cut off the
ogre's head with a big knife he carried about with him, just as if it
had been new-made cheese. Thereupon they took the head with
great joy to the King, who rejoiced at the recovery of his daughter,
for he had repented a hundred times at having given her to an ogre.
And not many days after Porziella was married to a handsome
prince, and the seven sons and their mother who had delivered her
from such a wretched life were rewarded with great riches.



VI

CENERENTOLA

In the sea of malice envy frequently gets out of her depth; and,
while 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. He had an only
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 she was very lonely, and many a time she
said to the governess, "Oh, that you had been my mother, you who
show me such kindness and love," and she said this so often that,
at last, the governess, having a bee put into her bonnet, 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 to say more, when Zezolla, for that was the name of
the Princess, 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. Do you write and I will subscribe." "Well, then,"
answered the governess, "open your ears and listen, and you will
get bread as white as the flowers. You know well enough that your
father would even coin false money to please you, so do you
entreat him when he is caressing you to marry me and make me
Princess. 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 her mother's death was ended, she began
to feel her father's pulse, and beg 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 married the governess, and gave a great feast at
the wedding.

Now, while the young folks were dancing, and Zezolla was
standing at the window of her house, a dove came flying and
perched upon a wall, and said to her, "Whenever you need
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, for she had never before told any one
that she was a widow with a bunch of girls; and she praised them
so much, and talked her husband over in such a fashion, that at last
the stepdaughters had 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 to-day and worse to-morrow, 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, 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: one wished for this and one 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
backwards or forwards; so remember what I tell you, for it will
fare with you accordingly."

Then the Prince went his way and did his business in Sardinia, and
procured all the things that his stepdaughters had asked for; but
poor Zezolla was quite out of his thoughts. And going 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 by a sea-lamprey. 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 child."

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 remembrances, 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 his
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
flower-pot, hoed the earth round it, watered it, and wiped its leaves
morning and evening with the silken napkin. 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 flower-pot and say:

     My little Date-tree, my golden tree,
     With a golden hoe I have hoed thee,
     With a golden can I have watered 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 words and say,
 Strip me and dress thee.'"

When the time for the feast was come, and the stepmother's
daughters appeared, dressed out so fine, all ribbons and flowers,
and slippers and shoes, sweet smells and bells, and roses and
posies, Zezolla ran quickly to the flower-pot, and no sooner had
she repeated the words, as the fairy had told her, than she saw
herself arrayed like a queen, seated upon a palfrey, and attended by
twelve smart pages, all in their best clothes. Then she went to the
ball, and made the sisters envious of this unknown beauty.

Even the young King himself was there, and as soon as he saw her
he stood magic-bound with amazement, and ordered a trusty
servant to find out who was that beautiful maiden, and where she
lived. So the servant followed in her footsteps; but when Zezolla
noticed the trick she 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 his lantern, and was so busy
picking up all the crown-pieces that he forgot to follow the palfrey;
and Zezolla came home quite safely, and had changed her clothes,
as the fairy told her, before the wicked sisters arrived, and, to vex
her and make her envious, told her of all the fine things they had
seen. But the King was very angry with the servant, and warned
him not to miss finding out next time who this beautiful maiden
was, and where she dwelt.

Soon there was another feast, and again the sisters all went to it,
leaving poor Zezolla at home on the kitchen hearth. Then she ran
quickly to the date-tree, and repeated the spell, and instantly there
appeared a number of damsels, one with a looking-glass, another
with a bottle of rose-water, another with the curling-irons, another
with combs, another with pins, another with dresses, and another
with capes and collars. And they decked her out as glorious as the
sun, and put her in a coach drawn by six white horses, and
attended by footmen and pages in livery. And no sooner did she
appear in the ball-room than the hearts of the sisters were filled
with amazement, and the King was overcome with love.

When Zezolla went home the servant followed her again, but so
that she should not 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 she had time to slip away and take
off her fine dress as before.

Meanwhile the servant had returned slowly to the King, who cried
out when he saw him, "By the souls of my ancestors, if you do not
find out who she is you shall have such a thrashing as was never
before heard of, and as many kicks as you have hairs in your
beard!"

When the next feast was held, and the sisters were safely out of the
house, Zezolla went to the date-tree, and once again repeated the
spell. In an instant she found herself splendidly arrayed and seated
in a coach of gold, with ever so many servants around her, so that
she looked just like a queen. Again the sisters were beside
themselves with envy; but this time, when she left the ball-room,
the King's servant kept close to the coach. Zezolla, seeing that the
man was ever running by her side, cried, "Coachman, drive on
quickly," and in a trice the coach set off at such a rattling pace that
she lost one of her slippers, the prettiest thing that ever was seen.
The servant being unable to catch the coach, which flew like a
bird, picked up the slipper, and carrying it to the King told him all
that happened. Whereupon the King, taking it in his hand, said, "If
the basement, indeed, is so beautiful, what must the building be.
You who until now were the prison of a white foot are now the
fetter of an unhappy heart!"

Then he made a proclamation that all the women in the country
should come to a banquet, for which the most splendid provision
was made of pies and pastries, and stews and ragouts, macaroni
and sweetmeats--enough to feed a whole army. And when all the
women were assembled, noble and ignoble, rich and poor,
beautiful and ugly, the King tried the slipper on each one of the
guests to see whom it should fit to a hair, and thus be able to
discover by the help of the slipper the maiden of whom he was in
search, but not one foot could he find to fit it. So he examined
them closely whether indeed every one was there; and the Prince
confessed that he had left one daughter behind, "but," said he, "she
is always on the hearth, and is such a graceless simpleton that she
is unworthy to sit and 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--the very next day they assembled again,
and with the wicked sisters came Zezolla. When the King saw her
he had his suspicions, but said nothing. And after the feast came
the trial of the slipper, which, as soon as ever it approached
Zezolla's foot, it darted on to it of its own accord like iron flies to
the magnet. Seeing this, the King ran to her and took her in 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 wicked sisters saw this they were full of venom and
rage, and, not having patience to look upon the object of their
hatred, they slipped quietly away on tip-toe and went home to their
mother, confessing, in spite of themselves, that--

     "He is a madman who resists the Stars."



VII

THE MERCHANT

Troubles are usually the brooms and shovels that smooth the road
to a man's good fortune, of which he little dreams. 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 a son called Cienzo. It happened that Cienzo
was one day throwing stones on the sea-shore with the son of the
King of Naples, and by chance broke his companion's head. When
he told his father, Antoniello flew into a rage with fear of the
consequences and abused his son; but 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? The wide world is one's home; and let
him who is afraid turn constable."

But Antoniello would not listen to reason. He made sure the King
would kill Cienzo for his fault and said, "Don't stand here at risk
of your life; but march off this very instant, so that nobody may
hear a word, new or old, of what you have done. A bird in the bush
is better than a bird in the cage. Here is money. Take one of the
two enchanted horses I have in the stable, and the dog which is
also enchanted, and tarry no longer here. It is 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. If you don't take your knapsack and be off, none of the
Saints can help you!"

Then begging his father's blessing, Cienzo mounted his horse, and
tucking the enchanted dog under his arm, he went his way out of
the city. Making a winter of tears with a summer of sighs he went
his way until the evening, when he came to a wood that kept the
Mule of the Sun outside its limits, while it was amusing itself with
Silence and the Shades. An old house stood there, at the foot of a
tower. Cienzo knocked at the door of the tower; but the master,
being in fear of robbers, would not open to him, so the poor youth
was obliged to remain in the ruined old house. He turned his horse
out to graze in a meadow, and threw himself on some straw he
found, with the dog by his side. But scarcely had he closed his eyes
when he was awakened by the barking of the dog, and heard
footsteps stirring in the house. Cienzo, who was bold and
venturesome, seized his sword and began to lay about him in the
dark; but perceiving that he was only striking the wind and hit no
one, he turned round again to sleep. After a few minutes he felt
himself pulled gently by the foot. He turned to lay hold again of his
cutlass, and jumping up, exclaimed, "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 clamour, crying,
"Alas, my beauteous treasure, I must lose thee!"

When Cienzo saw this he began himself to cry and lament, for
company's 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 and take
care of it." Then they vanished. And Cienzo, espying the sunlight
through a hole in the wall, wished to climb up again, but could not
find the ladder, whereat he set up such a cry that the master of the
tower heard him and fetched a ladder, when they discovered a
great treasure. He wished to give part of it to Cienzo, but the latter
refused; and taking his dog and mounting once more on his horse
set out again on 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, he found a
fairy surrounded by a band of robbers. Cienzo, seeing the wicked
intention of the robbers, seized his sword and soon made a
slaughter of them. The fairy showered thanks upon him for this
brave deed done for her sake, and invited him to her palace that
she might reward him. But Cienzo replied, "It is 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 black to look at it. When Cienzo
inquired the cause of the mourning the folks answered, "A dragon
with seven heads has made his appearance in this country, the
most terrible monster that ever was seen, 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 maiden every day, and now the lot has fallen on
Menechella, the daughter of the King. So there is great weeping
and wailing in the royal palace, since the fairest creature in all the
land is doomed to be devoured 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. Then the dragon came out of the cave. But Cienzo laid hold of
his sword and 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. Cienzo, seeing this, 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 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 marry the Princess. Now a rascal of a
country fellow, hearing this proclamation, took the heads of the
dragon, 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 like a thief on the gallows.

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 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 as little for it as an ass for music; and now that I am called to
the crown, here I stand 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--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 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 reward while I have had all the toil.
For it will be the right effect of thy fair royal grace and the merited
recompense of this strong hero's fist. In conclusion, I kiss thy
delicate little hands.
"From the Inn of the Flower-pot, Sunday."

Having written this letter, and sealed it with a wafer, he placed it
in the mouth of the enchanted dog, 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. Then the King demanded how it was 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 rather than a
crown, since he has had the impudence to tell you a bouncing lie.
But to prove to you that I have done the deed and not this rascal,
order the heads to be produced. 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 that of Cienzo; and he was on
the point of sending the imposter to the galleys, but Cienzo begged
the King to have mercy on him and to confound his wickedness
with courtesy. Then he married Menechella, and the tables were
spread and a royal banquet was set forth; and in the morning they
sent for Antoniello 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."


VIII

GOAT-FACE

All the ill-deeds that a man commits have some colour of 
excuse--either contempt which provokes, need 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
hearts of the ungrateful. As you will see in the story which I am
about to relate.

A peasant had twelve daughters, not one of whom was a head
taller than the next; for every year their mother presented him with
a little girl; so that the poor man, to support his family decently,
went early every morning as a day labourer and dug hard the whole
day long. With what his labour produced he just kept his little ones
from dying of hunger.

He happened, one day, to be digging at the foot of a mountain, the
spy of 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 the 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 to do you 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, to-morrow 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 the child as a titbit 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, I am robbed of
my heart; if I deny her she will suck out my blood. If I consent, she
takes away 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, "Resolve quickly and
do what I tell you; or you will leave only your rags here. For so I
will have it, and so it will 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 jaundice; and his
wife, seeing him hanging his head like a sick bird and his
shoulders like one that is wounded, 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 that sort," said 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 suffer for it. My head is
turning like a reel. I know not what fish to take. On 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
my unfortunate body. So now, dear wife, 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, that will make our fortune? Who
knows but this lizard may put an end to all our miseries? How
often, 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 hands, when we should lay hold on it. So go,
take her away, for my heart tells me that some good fortune awaits
the poor little thing!"

These words comforted Masaniello; 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. Then the lizard came out, and taking
the child gave the father a bag full of crowns, saying, "Go now, be
happy, for Renzolla has found both father and mother."

Masaniello, overjoyed, thanked the lizard and went home to his
wife. There was money enough for portions to all the other
daughters when they married, and even then the old folks had
sauce remaining for themselves to enable them to swallow with
relish the toils of life.

Then the lizard made a most beautiful palace for Renzolla, and
brought her up in such state and magnificence as would have
dazzled the eyes of any queen. She wanted for nothing. Her food
was fit for a count, her clothing for a princess. She had a hundred
maidens to wait upon her, and with such good treatment she grew
as sturdy as an oak-tree.

It happened, as the King was out hunting in those parts, that night
overtook him, and as he stood looking round, not knowing where
to lay his head, he saw a candle shining in the palace. So he sent
one of his servants, to ask 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 there be wanting. The King, on hearing this
reply, went to the palace and was received like a cavalier. A
hundred pages went out to meet him, so that it looked like the
funeral of a rich man. A hundred other pages brought the dishes to
the table. A hundred others made a brave noise 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 he had thus been so royally entertained, he felt he could not
live without Renzolla; so, calling the fairy, 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 one 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 should be thus
transformed; and, with sighs and tears he exclaimed, "Where are
the locks that bound me? Where are the eyes that transfixed me?
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
chambermaid; and gave to each of them ten bundles of flax to
spin, commanding 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 without ceasing; 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 the
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, that he is somewhat of a donkey to treat me this
way!"

Nevertheless, when Saturday morning came, seeing that the maid
had spun all her share of the flax, Renzolla was greatly afraid; so
away she went to the palace of the fairy and told 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, went to the royal
palace; so again the fairy was quite angered at the conduct of the
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 on bread crumbs and treated it like a
child; but Renzolla grumbled, saying, "A pretty thing truly! As my
grandfather used to say, Are we living under the Turks? Am I
indeed to comb and wait upon dogs?" and she flung the dog out of
the window!

Some months afterwards, the King asked for the dogs; whereat
Renzolla, losing heart, ran off again to the fairy, and at the gate
stood the old man who was the porter. "Who are you," said he,
"and whom do you want?" Renzolla, hearing herself addressed in
this off-hand way, replied, "Don't you know me, you old goat-beard?"

"Why do you miscall me?" said the porter. "This is the thief
accusing the constable. I a goat-beard indeed! You are a goat-beard
and a half, and you merit it and worse for your presumption. Wait
awhile, you impudent woman; I'll enlighten you and you will see
to what your airs and impertinence have brought you!"

So saying, he ran into his room, and taking a looking-glass, set it
before Renzolla; who, when she saw her ugly, hairy visage, was
like to have died with terror. Her dismay at seeing her face so
altered that she did not know herself cannot be told. Whereupon
the old man said to her, "You ought to recollect, Renzolla, that you
are a daughter of a peasant and that it was the fairy that raised you
to be a queen. But you, rude, unmannerly, and thankless as you
are, having little gratitude for such high favours, have kept her
waiting outside your heart, without showing the slightest mark of
affection. 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 spell 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, beat your breast, and ask pardon for the ill-treatment you
have shown her. She is tender-hearted and she will be moved to
pity by 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 clad her in a robe that was quite heavy with gold;
and placing her in a magnificent coach, accompanied with 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 cause of it. Thus Renzolla lived happy, loving her
husband, honouring the fairy, and showing herself grateful to the
old man, having learned to her cost that--

"It is always good to be mannerly."


IX 

THE ENCHANTED DOE

Great is the power of friendship, which makes us willingly bear
toils and perils to serve a friend. We value our wealth as a trifle
and life as a straw, when we can give them for a friend's sake.
Fables teach us this and history is full of instances of it; and I will
give you an example which my grandmother 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, continually made prayers to
the gods that they would grant his wish; and, in order to incline
them the more to his petition, he was so charitable to beggars and
pilgrims that he shared with them all he possessed. But seeing, at
last, that these things availed him nothing; and that there was no
end to putting his hand into his pocket, he bolted fast his door, and
shot with a cross-bow at all who came near.

Now it happened one day, that a long-bearded pilgrim 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 shelter in his
house. But, with a fierce look and terrible growl, the King said to
him, "If you have no other candle than this, you may go to bed in
the dark. The kittens have their eyes open, and I am no longer a
child." And when the old man asked what was the cause of this
change, the King replied, "To further my desire for children, I have
spent and lent to all who came and all who went, and have
squandered all my treasure. At last, seeing the beard was gone, I
stopped shaving and laid aside the razor."

"If that be all," replied the pilgrim, "you may set your mind at rest,
for I promise that your wish shall forthwith be fulfilled, on pain of
losing my ears."

"Be it so," said the King, "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 cooked and eaten by the Queen, and you
will see that what I say will speedily come to pass."

"That hardly seems possible," said the King, "but at the worst I
lose nothing by the trial; so I must, this very moment, get the
dragon's heart."

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 cruised 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 the Queen to cook
and eat. And when she had eaten it, there was great rejoicing, for
the King's desire was fulfilled and he became the father of two
sons, so like the other that nobody but the Queen 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. Their
attachment was so great that the Queen began to be jealous, at
seeing that the son whom she destined to be heir to his father, and
whose name was Fonzo, testified more affection for his brother
Canneloro than he did for herself. And she knew not in what way
to remove this thorn from her eyes.

Now one day Fonzo wished to go a-hunting with his brother; so he
had a fire lighted in his chamber and began to melt lead to make
bullets; and being in want of I know not what, he went himself to
look for it. Meanwhile the Queen came in, and finding no one
there but Canneloro, 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 made an ugly wound. She was just going
to repeat the blow when Fonzo came in; so, pretending that she
was only come in to see how he was, she gave him some caresses
and 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. But as soon as they had done making the balls, he
told his brother that he must leave him. 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 part with you, who are my heart and my soul and the breath of
my body. 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. He put on a suit of
armour and a sword and 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, "Since you
are resolved to abandon me, you should, at least, leave me some
token of your love, to diminish my anguish for your absence."
Thereupon Canneloro struck his dagger into the ground, and
instantly a fine fountain rose up. Then said he to his twin-brother,
"This is the best memorial I can leave you. By the flowing of this
fountain you will follow the course of my life. If you see it run
clear, know that my life is likewise clear and tranquil. If it is
turbid, think that I am passing through troubles; and if it is dry,
depend on it that the oil of my life is all consumed and that I have
paid the toll which belongs to Nature!"

Then he drove his sword into the ground, and immediately a
myrtle-tree grew up, when he said, "As long as this myrtle is green,
know that I too am green as a leek. If you see it wither, think that
my fortunes are not the best in this world; but if it becomes quite
dried up, you may mourn for your Canneloro."

So saying, after embracing one another again, Canneloro set out on
his travels; journeying on and on, with many adventures which it
would be too long to recount--he at length arrived at the Kingdom
of Clear-Water, 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 he
married the Princess Fenicia, 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. He
told it to the King, who said to him, "Take care, my son-in-law; do
not be deluded. Be wise and keep open your eyes, for in these
woods is a most wicked 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, like one thing and now like another. 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 into 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. 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 has 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 raised such a tremendous snow-storm that it
looked as if the sky was going to fall. Canneloro, finding himself
in front of a cave, went into it to seek for shelter; and being
benumbed with the cold, he gathered some sticks which he found
within it, and pulling his steel from his pocket, he kindled a large
fire. As he was standing by the fire 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 kindly disposition, said to her, "Draw
near, and welcome."

"I would gladly," replied the doe, "but I am afraid you would kill
me."

"Fear nothing," answered Canneloro, "trust to my word."

"If you wish me to enter," rejoined the doe, "tie up those 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 hobbled his horse, and the doe
said, "I am now half assured, but unless you bind fast your sword, I
dare not come in." Then Canneloro, who wished to become friends
with the doe, bound his sword as a countryman does, when he
carries it in the city for fear of the constables. As soon as the ogre
saw Canneloro defenceless, he re-took his own form, and laying
hold on him, flung him into a pit 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 brother
was undergoing misfortunes. So, to help him, he 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. He roamed and rambled here, there, and
everywhere until, at last, he came to Clear-Water, which he found
all in mourning for the supposed death of Canneloro. And scarcely
was he come to the court, when every one, thinking, from the
likeness he bore him, that it was Canneloro, hastened to tell
Fenicia the good news, who ran leaping down the stairs, and
embracing Fonzo cried, "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 his brother
might be found. And, hearing her say that he had put himself in
great danger by that accursed hunting, especially if the cruel ogre
should meet him, he at once concluded that Canneloro must be
there.

The next morning, as soon as the Sun had gone forth to give the
gilded frills 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 his brother's arms and dogs and horse fast bound, by which he
became assured of the nature of the 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 traces of his brother, 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 twin-brothers went home, where
Fenicia, seeing them so much alike, did not know which to choose
for her husband, until Canneloro took off his cap and she saw the
mark of the old wound and recognised him. Fonzo stayed there a
month, taking his pleasure, and then wished to return to his own
country, and Canneloro wrote by him to his mother, bidding her
lay aside her enmity and come and visit him and partake of his
greatness, which she did. But from that time forward, he never
would hear of dogs or of hunting, recollecting the saying--

"Unhappy is he who corrects himself at his own cost."



X

PARSLEY

This is one of the stories which that good soul, my uncle's
grandmother (whom Heaven take to glory), used to tell; and,
unless I have put on my spectacles upside down, I fancy it will
give you pleasure.

There was, once upon a time, a woman named Pascadozzia, and
one day, when she was standing at her window, which looked into
the garden of an ogress, she saw such a fine bed of parsley that she
almost fainted away with desire for some. So when the ogress went
out she could not restrain herself any longer, but plucked a handful
of it. The ogress came home and was going to cook her pottage
when she found that some one had been stealing the parsley, and
said, "Ill luck to me, but I'll catch this long-fingered rogue and
make him repent it; I'll teach him to his cost that every one should
eat off his own platter and not meddle with other folks' cups."

The poor woman went again and again down into the garden, until
one morning the ogress met her, and in a furious rage exclaimed,
"Have I caught you at last, you thief, you rogue; prithee, do you
pay the rent of the garden that you come in this impudent way and
steal my plants? By my faith, I'll make you do penance without
sending you to Rome."

Poor Pascadozzia, in a terrible fright, began to make excuses,
saying that neither from gluttony nor the craving of hunger had she
been tempted by the devil to commit this fault, but from her fear
lest her child should be born with a crop of parsley on its face.

"Words are but wind," answered the ogress, "I am not to be caught
with such prattle; you have closed the balance-sheet of life, unless
you promise to give me the child, girl or boy, whichever it may
be."

The poor woman, in order to escape the peril in which she found
herself, swore, with one hand upon the other, to keep the promise,
and so the ogress let her go free. But when the baby came it was a
little girl, so beautiful that she was a joy to look upon, who was
named Parsley. The little girl grew from day to day until, when she
was seven years old, her mother sent her to school, and every time
she went along the street and met the ogress the old woman said to
her, "Tell your mother to remember her promise." And she went
on repeating this message so often that the poor mother, having no
longer patience to listen to the refrain, said one day to Parsley, "If
you meet the old woman as usual, and she reminds you of the
hateful promise, answer her,  Take it.'"

When Parsley, who dreamt of no ill, met the ogress again, and
heard her repeat the same words, she answered innocently as her
mother had told her, whereupon the ogress, seizing her by her hair,
carried her off to a wood which the horses of the Sun never
entered, not having paid the toll to the pastures of those Shades.
Then she put the poor girl into a tower which she caused to arise
by her art, having neither gate nor ladder, but only a little window
through which she ascended and descended by means of Parsley's
hair, which was very long, just as sailors climb up and down the
mast of a ship.

Now it happened one day, when the ogress had left the tower, that
Parsley put her head out of the little window and let loose her
tresses in the sun, and the son of a Prince passing by saw those two
golden banners which invited all souls to enlist under the standard
of Beauty, and, beholding with amazement, in the midst of those
gleaming waves, a face that enchanted all hearts, he fell
desperately in love with such wonderful beauty; and, sending her a
memorial of sighs, she decreed to receive him into favour. She told
him her troubles, and implored him to rescue her. But a gossip of
the ogress, who was for ever prying into things that did not
concern her, and poking her nose into every corner, overheard the
secret, and told the wicked woman to be on the look-out, for
Parsley had been seen talking with a certain youth, and she had her
suspicions. The ogress thanked the gossip for the information, and
said that she would take good care to stop up the road. As to
Parsley, it was, moreover, impossible for her to escape, as she had
laid a spell upon her, so that unless she had in her hand the three
gall-nuts which were in a rafter in the kitchen it would be labour
lost to attempt to get away.

Whilst they were thus talking together, Parsley, who stood with her
ears wide open and had some suspicion of the gossip, overheard all
that had passed. And when Night had spread out her black
garments to keep them from the moth, and the Prince had come as
they had appointed, she let fall her hair; he seized it with both
hands, and cried, "Draw up." When he was drawn up she made
him first climb on to the rafters and find the gall-nuts, knowing
well what effect they would have, as she had been enchanted by
the ogress. Then, having made a rope-ladder, they both descended
to the ground, took to their heels, and ran off towards the city. But
the gossip, happening to see them come out, set up a loud
"Halloo," and began to shout and make such a noise that the ogress
awoke, and, seeing that Parsley had run away, she descended by
the same ladder, which was still fastened to the window, and set
off after the couple, who, when they saw her coming at their heels
faster than a horse let loose, gave themselves up for lost. But
Parsley, recollecting the gall-nuts, quickly threw one of the
ground, and lo, instantly a Corsican bulldog started up--O, mother,
such a terrible beast!--which, with open jaws and barking loud,
flew at the ogress as if to swallow her at a mouthful. But the old
woman, who was more cunning and spiteful than ever, put her
hand into her pocket, and pulling out a piece of bread gave it to the
dog, which made him hang his tail and allay his fury.

Then she turned to run after the fugitives again, but Parsley, seeing
her approach, threw the second gall-nut on the ground, and lo, a
fierce lion arose, who, lashing the earth with his tail, and shaking
his mane and opening wide his jaws a yard apart, was just
preparing to make a slaughter of the ogress, when, turning quickly
back, she stripped the skin off an ass which was grazing in the
middle of a meadow and ran at the lion, who, fancying it a real
jackass, was so frightened that he bounded away as fast as he
could.

The ogress having leaped over this second ditch turned again to
pursue the poor lovers, who, hearing the clatter of her heels, and
seeing clouds of dust that rose up to the sky, knew that she was
coming again. But the old woman, who was every moment in
dread lest the lion should pursue her, had not taken off the ass's
skin, and when Parsley now threw down the third gall-nut there
sprang up a wolf, who, without giving the ogress time to play any
new trick, gobbled her up just as she was in the shape of a jackass.
So Parsley and the Prince, now freed from danger, went their way
leisurely and quietly to the Prince's kingdom, where, with his
father's free consent, they were married. Thus, after all these
storms of fate, they experienced the truth that--

     "One hour in port, the sailor, freed from fears,
      Forgets the tempests of a hundred years."



XI

THE THREE SISTERS

It is a great truth that from the same wood are formed the statues
of idols and the rafters of gallows, kings' thrones and cobblers'
stalls; and another strange thing is that from the same rags are
made the paper on which the wisdom of sages is recorded, and the
crown which is placed on the head of a fool. The same, too, may
be said of children: one daughter is good and another bad; one idle,
another a good housewife; one fair, another ugly; one spiteful,
another kind; one unfortunate, another born to good luck, and who
being all of one family ought to be of one nature. But leaving this
subject to those who know more about it, I will merely give you an
example in the story of the three daughters of the same mother,
wherein you will see the difference of manners which brought the
wicked daughters into the ditch and the good daughter to the top of
the Wheel of Fortune.

There was at one time a woman who had three daughters, two of
whom were so unlucky that nothing ever succeeded with them, all
their projects went wrong, all their hopes were turned to chaff. But
the youngest, who was named Nella, was born to good luck, and I
verily believe that at her birth all things conspired to bestow on her
the best and choicest gifts in their power. The Sky gave her the
perfection of its light; Venus, matchless beauty of form; Love, the
first dart of his power; Nature, the flower of manners. She never
set about any work that it did not go off to a nicety; she never took
anything in hand that it did not succeed to a hair; she never stood
up to dance, that she did not sit down with applause. On which
account she was envied by her jealous sisters and yet not so much
as she was loved and wished well to by all others; as greatly as her
sisters desired to put her underground, so much more did other
folks carry her on the palms of their hands.

Now there was in that country an enchanted Prince who was so
attracted by her beauty that he secretly married her. And in order
that they might enjoy one another's company without exciting the
suspicion of the mother, who was a wicked woman, the Prince
made a crystal passage which led from the royal palace directly
into Nella's apartment, although it was eight miles distant. Then
he gave her a certain powder saying, "Every time you wish to see
me throw a little of this powder into the fire, and instantly I will
come through this passage as quick as a bird, running along the
crystal road to gaze upon this face of silver."

Having arranged it thus, not a night passed that the Prince did not
go in and out, backwards and forwards, along the crystal passage,
until at last the sisters, who were spying the actions of Nella, found
out the secret and laid a plan to put a stop to the sport. And in
order to cut the thread at once, they went and broke the passage
here and there; so that, when the unhappy girl threw the powder
into the fire, to give the signal to her husband, the Prince, who
used always to come running in furious haste, hurt himself in such
a manner against the broken crystal that it was truly a pitiable sight
to see. And being unable to pass further on he turned back all cut
and slashed like a Dutchman's breeches. Then he sent for all the
doctors in the town; but as the crystal was enchanted the wounds
were mortal, and no human remedy availed. When the King saw
this, despairing of his son's condition, he sent out a proclamation
that whoever would cure the wounds of the Prince--if a woman she
should have him for a husband--if a man he should have half his
kingdom.

Now when Nella, who was pining away from the loss of the
Prince, heard this she dyed her face, disguised herself, and
unknown to her sisters she left home to go to see him before his
death. But as by this time the Sun's gilded ball with which he plays
in the Fields of Heaven, was running towards the west, night
overtook her in a wood close to the house of an ogre, where, in
order to get out of the way of danger, she climbed up into a tree.
Meanwhile the ogre and his wife were sitting at table with the
windows open in order to enjoy the fresh air while they ate; as
soon as they had emptied their cups and put out the lamps they
began to chat of one thing and another, so that Nella, who was as
near to them as the mouth to the nose, heard every word they
spoke.

Among other things the ogress said to her husband, "My pretty
Hairy-Hide, tell me what news; what do they say abroad in the
world?" And he answered, "Trust me, there is no hand's breadth
clean; everything's going topsy-turvy and awry." "But what is it?"
replied his wife. "Why I could tell pretty stories of all the
confusion that is going on," replied the ogre, "for one hears things
that are enough to drive one mad, such as buffoons rewarded with
gifts, rogues esteemed, cowards honoured, robbers protected, and
honest men little thought of. But, as these things only vex one, I
will merely tell you what has befallen the King's son. He had made
a crystal path along which he used to go to visit a pretty lass; but
by some means or other, I know not how, all the road has been
broken; and as he was going along the passage as usual, he has
wounded himself in such a manner that before he can stop the leak
the whole conduit of his life will run out. The King has indeed
issued a proclamation with great promises to whoever cures his
son; but it is all labour lost, and the best he can do is quickly to get
ready mourning and prepare the funeral."

When Nella heard the cause of the Prince's illness she sobbed and
wept bitterly and said to herself, "Who is the wicked soul who has
broken the passage and caused so much sorrow?" But as the ogress
now went on speaking Nella was as silent as a mouse and listened.

"And is it possible," said the ogress, "that the world is lost to this
poor Prince, and that no remedy can be found for his malady?"

"Hark-ye, Granny," replied the ogre, "the doctors are not called
upon to find remedies that may pass the bounds of nature. This is
not a fever that will yield to medicine and diet, much less are these
ordinary wounds which require lint and oil; for the charm that was
on the broken glass produces the same effect as onion juice does
on the iron heads of arrows, which makes the wound incurable.
There is one thing only that could save his life, but don't ask me to
tell it to you, for it is a thing of importance."

"Do tell me, dear old Long-tusk," cried the ogress; "tell me, if you
would not see me die."

"Well then," said the ogre, "I will tell you provided you promise
me not to confide it to any living soul, for it would be the ruin of
our house and the destruction of our lives."

"Fear nothing, my dear, sweet little husband," replied the ogress;
"for you shall sooner see pigs with horns, apes with tails, moles
with eyes, than a single word shall pass my lips." And so saying,
she put one hand upon the other and swore to it.

"You must know then," said the ogre, "that there is nothing under
the sky nor above the ground that can save the Prince from the
snares of death, but our fat. If his wounds are anointed with this his
soul will be arrested which is just at the point of leaving the
dwelling of his body."

Nella, who overheard all that passed, gave time to Time to let
them finish their chat; and then, getting down from the tree and
taking heart, she knocked at the ogre's door crying, "Ah! my good
masters, I pray you for charity, alms, some sign of compassion.
Have a little pity on a poor, miserable, wretched creature who is
banished by fate far from her own country and deprived of all
human aid, who has been overtaken by night in this wood and is
dying of cold and hunger." And crying thus, she went on knocking
and knocking at the door.

Upon hearing this deafening noise, the ogress was going to throw
her half a loaf and send her away. But the ogre, who was more
greedy of flesh than the squirrel is of nuts, the bear of honey, the
cat of fish, the sheep of salt, or the ass of bran, said to his wife,
"Let the poor creature come in, for if she sleeps in the fields, who
knows but she may be eaten up by some wolf." In short, he talked
so much that his wife at length opened the door for Nella; whilst
with all his pretended charity he was all the time reckoning on
making four mouthfuls of her. But the glutton counts one way and
the host another; for the ogre and his wife drank till they were
fairly tipsy. When they lay down to sleep Nella took a knife from a
cupboard and made a hash of them in a trice. Then she put all the
fat into a phial, went straight to the court, where, presenting
herself before the King, she offered to cure the Prince. At this the
King was overjoyed and led her to the chamber of his son, and no
sooner had she anoited him well with the fat than the wound
closed in a moment just as if she had thrown water on the fire, and
he became sound as a fish.

When the King saw this, he said to his son, "This good woman
deserves the reward promised by the proclamation and that you
should marry her." But the Prince replied, "It is hopeless, for I
have no store-room full of hearts in my body to share among so
many; my heart is already disposed of, and another woman is
already the mistress of it." Nella, hearing this, replied, "You
should no longer think of her who has been the cause of all your
misfortune." "My misfortune has been brought on me by her
sisters," replied the Prince, "and they shall repent it." "Then do
you really love her?" said Nella. And the Prince replied, "More
than my own life." "Embrace me then," said Nella, "for I am the
fire of your heart." But the Prince seeing the dark hue of her face
answered, "I would sooner take you for the coal than the fire, so
keep off--don't blacken me." Whereupon Nella, perceiving that he
did not know her, called for a basin of clean water and washed her
face. As soon as the cloud of soot was removed the sun shone
forth; and the Prince, recognising her, pressed her to his heart and
acknowledged her for his wife. Then he had her sisters thrown into
an oven, thus proving the truth of the old saying--

     "No evil ever went without punishment."



XII

VIOLET

Envy is a wind which blows with such violence, that it throws
down the props of the reputation of good men, and levels with the
ground the crops of good fortune. But, very often, as a punishment
from Heaven, when this envious blast seems as if it would cast a
person flat on the ground, it aids him instead of attain the
happiness he is expecting sooner even than he expected: as you
will hear in the story which I shall now tell you.

There was once upon a time a good sort of man named Cola
Aniello, who had three daughters, Rose, Pink, and Violet, the last
of whom was so beautiful that her very look was a syrup of love,
which cured the hearts of beholders of all unhappiness. The King's
son was burning with love of her, and every time he passed by the
little cottage where these three sisters sat at work, he took off his
cap and said, "Good-day, good-day, Violet," and she replied,
"Good-day, King's son! I know more than you." At these words
her sisters grumbled and murmured, saying, "You are an ill-bred
creature and will make the Prince in a fine rage." But as Violet
paid no heed to what they said, they made a spiteful complaint of
her to her father, telling him that she was too bold and forward;
and that she answered the Prince without any respect, as if she
were just as good as he; and that, some day or other, she would get
into trouble and suffer the just punishment of her offence. So Cola
Aniello, who was a prudent man, in order to prevent any mischief,
sent Violet to stay with an aunt, to be set to work.

Now the Prince, when he passed by the house as usual, no longer
seeing the object of his love, was for some days like a nightingale
that has lost her young ones from her nest, and goes from branch to
branch wailing and lamenting her loss; but he put his ear so often
to the chink that at last he discovered where Violet lived. Then he
went to the aunt, and said to her, "Madam, you know who I am,
and what power I have; so, between ourselves, do me a favour and
then ask for whatever you wish." "If I can do anything to serve
you," replied the old woman, "I am entirely at your command." "I
ask nothing of you," said the Prince, "but to let me give Violet a
kiss." "If that's all," answered the old woman, "go and hide
yourself in the room downstairs in the garden, and I will find some
pretence or another for sending Violet to you."

As soon as the Prince heard this, he stole into the room without
loss of time; and the old woman, pretending that she wanted to cut
a piece of cloth, said to her niece, "Violet, if you love me, go down
and fetch me the yard-measure." So Violet went, as her aunt bade
her, but when she came to the room she perceived the ambush,
and, taking the yard-measure, she slipped out of the room as
nimbly as a cat, leaving the Prince with his nose made long out of
pure shame and bursting with vexation.

When the old woman saw Violet come running so fast, she
suspected that the trick had not succeeded; so presently after, she
said to the girl, "Go downstairs, niece, and fetch me the ball of
thread that is on the top shelf in the cupboard." So Violet ran, and
taking the thread slipped like an eel out of the hands of the Prince.
But after a little while the old woman said again, "Violet, my dear,
if you do not go downstairs and fetch me the scissors, I cannot get
on at all." Then Violet went down again, but she sprang as
vigorously as a dog out of the trap, and when she came upstairs she
took the scissors and cut off one of her aunt's ears, saying, "Take
that, madam, as a reward for your pains--every deed deserves its
need. If I don't cut off your nose, it is only that you may smell the
bad odour of your reputation." So saying, she went her way home
with a hop, skip, and jump, leaving her aunt eased of one ear and
the Prince full of Let-me-alone.

Not long afterwards, the Prince again passed by the house of
Violet's father; and, seeing her at the window where she used to
stand, he began his old tune, "Good-day, good-day, Violet!"
Whereupon she answered as quickly as a good parish-clerk,
"Good-day, King's son! I know more than you." But Violet's
sisters could no longer bear this behaviour, and they plotted
together how to get rid of her. Now, one of the windows looked
into the garden of an ogre, so they proposed to drive the poor girl
away through this; and letting fall from it a skein of thread with
which they were working a door-curtain for the queen, they cried,
"Alas! alas! we are ruined and shall not be able to finish the work
in time, if Violet, who is the smallest and lightest of us, does not
let herself down by a cord and pick up the thread that has fallen."

Violet could not endure to see her sisters grieving thus, and
instantly offered to go down; so, tying a cord to her, they lowered
her into the garden. But no sooner did she reach the ground than
they let go the rope. It happened that just at that time the ogre
came out to look at his garden, and having caught cold from the
dampness of the ground, he gave such a tremendous sneeze, with
such a noise and explosion, that Violet screamed out with terror,
"Oh, mother, help me!" Thereupon the ogre looked round and
seeing the beautiful maiden behind him, he received her with the
greatest care and affection; and treating her as his own daughter,
he gave her in charge of three fairies, bidding them take care of
her, and rear her up on cherries.

The Prince no longer seeing Violet, and hearing no news of her,
good or bad, fell into such grief that his eyes became swollen, his
face became pale as ashes, his lips livid; and he neither ate a
morsel to get flesh on his body, nor slept a wink to get any rest to
his mind. But trying all possible means and offering large rewards,
he went about spying and inquiring everywhere until, at last, he
discovered where Violet was. Then he sent for the ogre and told
him that, finding himself ill (as he might see was the case) he
begged of him permission to spend a single day and night in his
garden, adding that a small chamber would suffice for him to
repose in. Now, as the ogre was a subject of the Prince's father he
could not refuse him this trifling pleasure; so he offered him all the
rooms in his house; if one was not enough, and his very life itself.
The Prince thanked him, and chose a room which by good luck
was near to Violet's; and, as soon as Night came out to play games
with the Stars, the Prince, finding that Violet had left her door
open, as it was summertime and the place was safe, stole softly
into her room, and taking Violet's arm he gave her two pinches.
Then she awoke and exclaimed, "Oh, father, father, what a
quantity of fleas!" So she went to another bed and the Prince did
the same again and she cried out as before. Then she changed first
the mattress and then the sheet; and so the sport went on the whole
night long, until the Dawn, having brought the news that the Sun
was alive, the mourning that was hung round the sky was all
removed.

As soon as it was day, the Prince, passing by that house, and seeing
the maiden at the door, said, as he was wont to do, 
"Good-day, good-day, Violet!" and when Violet replied, 
"Good-day, King's son! I know more than you!" the Prince
answered, "Oh, father, father, what a quantity of fleas!"

The instant Violet felt this shot she guessed at once that the Prince
had been the cause of her annoyance in the past night; so off she
ran and told it to the fairies. "If it be he," said the fairies, "we will
soon give him tit for tat and as good in return. If this dog has bitten
you, we will manage to get a hair from him. He has give you one,
we will give him back one and a half. Only get the ogre to make
you a pair of slippers covered with little bells, and leave the rest to
us. We will pay him in good coin."

Violet, who was eager to be revenged, instantly got the ogre to
make the slippers for her; and, waiting till the Sky, like a Genoese
woman, had wrapped the black taffety round her face, they went,
all four together, to the house of the Prince, where the fairies and
Violet hid themselves in the chamber. And as soon as ever the
Prince had closed his eyes the fairies made a great noise and
racket, and Violet began to stamp with her feet at such a rate that,
what with the clatter of her heels and the jingling of her bells, the
Prince awoke in great terror and cried out, "Oh, mother, mother,
help me!" And after repeating this two or three times, they slipped
away home.

The next morning the Prince went to take a walk in the garden, for
he could not live a moment without the sight of Violet, who was a
pink of pinks. And seeing her standing at the door, he said, 
"Good-day, good-day, Violet!" And Violet answered, 
"Good-day, King's son! I know more than you!" Then the Prince
said, "Oh, father, father, what a quantity of fleas!" But Violet
replied, "Oh, mother, mother, help me!"

When the Prince heard this, he said to Violet, "You have 
won--your wits are better than mine. I yield--you have conquered.
And now that I see you really know more than I do, I will marry
you without more ado." So he called the ogre and asked her of him
for his wife; but the ogre said it was not his affair, for he had
learned that very morning that Violet was the daughter of Cola
Aniello. So the Prince ordered her father to be called and told him
of the good fortune that was in store for his daughter; whereupon
the marriage feast was celebrated with great joy, and the truth of
the saying was seen that--

     "A fair maiden soon gets wed."



XIII

PIPPO

Ingratitude is a nail, which, driven into the tree of courtesy, causes
it to wither. It is a broken channel by which the foundations of
affection are undermined; and a lump of soot, which, falling into
the dish of friendship, destroys its scent and savour--as is seen in
daily instances, and, amongst others, in the story which I will now
tell you.

There was one time in my dear city of Naples an old man who was
as poor as poor could be. He was so wretched, so bare, so light,
and with not a farthing in his pocket, that he went naked as a flea.
And being about to shake out the bags of life, he called to him his
sons, Oratiello and Pippo, and said to them, "I am now called upon
by the tenor of my bill to pay the debt I owe to Nature. Believe me,
I should feel great pleasure in quitting this abode of misery, this
den of woes, but that I leave you here behind me--a pair of
miserable fellows, as big as a church, without a stitch upon your
backs, as clean as a barber's basin, as nimble as a serjeant, as dry
as a plum-stone, without so much as a fly can carry upon its foot;
so that, were you to run a hundred miles, not a farthing would drop
from you. My ill-fortune has indeed brought me to such beggary
that I lead the life of a dog, for I have all along, as well you know,
gaped with hunger and gone to bed without a candle. Nevertheless,
now that I am a-dying, I wish to leave you some token of my love.
So do you, Oratiello, who are my first-born, take the sieve that
hangs yonder against the wall, with which you can earn your
bread; and do you, little fellow, take the cat and remember your
daddy!" So saying, he began to whimper; and presently after said,
"God be with you--for it is night!"

Oratiello had his father buried by charity; and then took the sieve
and went riddling here, there, and everywhere to gain a livelihood;
and the more he riddled, the more he earned. But Pippo, taking the
cat, said, "Only see now what a pretty legacy my father has left
me! I, who am not able to support myself, must now provide for
two. Whoever beheld so miserable an inheritance?" Then the cat,
who overheard this lamentation, said to him, "You are grieving
without need, and have more luck than sense. You little know the
good fortune in store for you; and that I am able to make you rich
if I set about it." When Pippo had heard this, he thanked Her
Pussyship, stroked her three or four times on the back, and
commended himself warmly to her. So the cat took compassion on
poor Pippo; and, every morning, when the Sun, with the bait of
light on his golden hook, fishes for the shakes of Night, she betook
herself to the shore, and catching a goodly grey mullet or a fine
dory, she carried it to the King and said, "My Lord Pippo, your
Majesty's most humble slave, sends you this fish with all
reverence, and says,  A small present to a great lord.'" Then the
King, with a joyful face, as one usually shows to those who bring a
gift, answered the cat, "Tell this lord, whom I do not know, that I
thank him heartily."

Again, the cat would run to the marshes or the fields, and when the
fowlers had brought down a blackbird, a snipe, or a lark, she
caught it up and presented it to the King with the same message.
She repeated this trick again and again, until one morning the King
said to her, "I feel infinitely obliged to this Lord Pippo, and am
desirous of knowing him, that I may make a return for the kindness
he has shown me." And the cat replied, "The desire of my Lord
Pippo is to give his life for your Majesty's crown; and tomorrow
morning, without fail, as soon as the Sun has set fire to the stubble
of the fields of air, he will come and pay his respects to you."

So when the morning came, the cat went to the King, and said to
him: "Sire, my Lord Pippo sends to excuse himself for not coming,
as last night some of his servants robbed him and ran off, and have
not left him a single shirt to his back." When the King heard this,
he instantly commanded his retainers to take out of his own
wardrobe a quantity of clothes and linen, and sent them to Pippo;
and, before two hours had passed, Pippo went to the palace,
conducted by the cat, where he received a thousand compliments
from the King, who made him sit beside himself, and gave him a
banquet that would amaze you.

While they were eating, Pippo from time to time turned to the cat
and said to her, "My pretty puss, pray take care that those rags
don't slip through our fingers." Then the cat answered, "Be quiet,
be quiet; don't be talking of these beggarly things." The King,
wishing to know the subject of their talk, the cat made answer that
Pippo had taken a fancy to a small lemon; whereupon the King
instantly sent out to the garden for a basketful. But Pippo returned
to the same tune about the old coats and shirts, and the cat again
told him to hold his tongue. Then the King once more asked what
was the matter, and the cat had another excuse to make amends for
Pippo's rudeness.

At last, when they had eaten and conversed for some time about
one thing and another, Pippo took his leave; and the cat stayed
with the King, describing the worth, the wisdom, and the judgment
of Pippo; and, above all, the great wealth he had in the plains of
Rome and Lombardy, which well entitled him to marry even into
the family of a crowned King. Then the King asked what might be
his fortune; and the cat replied that no one could ever count the
moveables, the fixtures, and the household furniture of this rich
man, who did not even know what he possessed. If the King
wished to be informed of it, he had only to send messengers with
the cat, and she would prove to him that there was no wealth in the
world equal to his.

Then the King called some trusty persons, and commanded them
to inform themselves minutely of the truth; so they followed in the
footsteps of the cat, who, as soon as they had passed the frontier of
the kingdom, from time to time ran on before, under the pretext of
providing refreshments for them on the road. Whenever she met a
flock of sheep, a herd of cows, a troop of horses, or a drove of
pigs, she would say to the herdsmen and keepers, "Ho! have a
care! A troop of robbers is coming to carry off everything in the
country. So if you wish to escape their fury, and to have your
things respected, say that they all belong to the Lord Pippo, and not
a hair will be touched."

She said the same at all the farmhouses, so that wherever the
King's people came they found the pipe tuned; for everything they
met with, they were told, belonged to the Lord Pippo. At last they
were tired of asking, and returned to the King, telling seas and
mountains of the riches of Lord Pippo. The King, hearing this
report, promised the cat a good drink if she should manage to
bring about the match; and the cat, playing the shuttle between
them, at last concluded the marriage. So Pippo came, and the King
gave him his daughter and a large portion.

At the end of a month of festivities, Pippo wished to take his bride
to his estates, so the King accompanied them as far as the
frontiers; and he went on to Lombardy, where, by the cat's advice,
he purchased a large estate and became a baron.

Pippo, seeing himself now so rich, thanked the cat more than
words can express, saying that he owed his life and his greatness to
her good offices; and that the ingenuity of a cat had done more for
him that the wit of his father. Therefore, said he, she might dispose
of his life and his property as she pleased; and he gave her his
word that when she died, which he prayed might not be for a
hundred years, he would have her embalmed and put into a golden
coffin, and set in his own chamber, that he might keep her memory
always before his eyes.

The cat listened to these lavish professions; and before three days
she pretended to be dead, and stretched herself at full length in the
garden. When Pippo's wife saw her, she cried out, "Oh, husband,
what a sad misfortune! The cat is dead!" "Devil die with her!" said
Pippo. "Better her than we!" "What shall we do with her?" replied
the wife. "Take her by the leg," said he, "and fling her out of the
window!"

Then the cat, who heard this fine reward when she least expected
it, began to say, "Is this the return you make for my taking you
from beggary? Are these the thanks I get for freeing you from rags
that you might have hung distaffs with? Is this my reward for
having put good clothes on your back when you were a poor,
starved, miserable, tatter-shod ragamuffin? But such is the fate of
him who washes an ass's head! Go! A curse upon all I have done
for you! A fine gold coffin you had prepared for me! A fine funeral
you were going to give me! Go, now! serve, labour, toil, sweat to
get this fine reward! Unhappy is he who does a good deed in hope
of a return. Well was it said by the philosopher,  He who lies down
an ass, an ass he finds himself.' But let him who does most, expect
least; smooth words and ill deeds deceive alike both fools and
wise!"

So saying, she drew her cloak about her and went her way. All that
Pippo, with the utmost humility, could do to soothe her was of no
avail. She would not return; but ran on and on without ever turning
her head about, saying--

     "Heaven keep me from the rich grown poor,
     And from the beggar who of wealth gains store."



XIV

THE SERPENT

It always happens that he who is over-curious in prying into the
affairs of other people, strikes his own foot with the axe; and the
King of Long-Furrow is a proof of this, who, by poking his nose
into secrets, brought his daughter into trouble and ruined his
unhappy son-in-law--who, in attempting to make a thrust with his
head was left with it broken.

There was once on a time a gardener's wife, who longed to have a
son more than a man in a fever for cold water, or the innkeeper for
the arrival of the mail-coach.

It chanced one day that the poor man went to the mountain to get a
faggot, and when he came home and opened it he found a pretty
little serpent among the twigs. At the sight of this, Sapatella (for
that was the name of the gardener's wife) heaved a deep sigh, and
said, "Alas! even the serpents have their little serpents; but I
brought ill-luck with me into this world." At these words, the little
serpent spoke, and said, "Well, then, since you cannot have
children, take me for a child, and you will make a good bargain,
for I shall love you better than my mother." Sapatella, hearing a
serpent speak thus, nearly fainted; but, plucking up courage, she
said, "If it were for nothing else than the affection which you offer,
I am content to take you, and treat you as if you were really my
own child." So saying, she assigned him a hole in a corner of the
house for a cradle, and gave him for food a share of what she had
with the greatest goodwill in the world.

The serpent increased in size from day to day; and when he had
grown pretty big, he said to Cola Matteo, the gardener, whom he
looked on as his father, "Daddy, I want to get married." "With all
my heart," said Cola Matteo. "We must look out for another
serpent like yourself, and try to make up a match between you."
"What serpent are you talking of?" said the little serpent. "I
suppose, forsooth, we are all the same with vipers and adders! It is
easy to see you are nothing but a country bumpkin, and make a
nosegay of every plant. I want the King's daughter; so go this very
instant and ask the King for her, and tell him it is a serpent who
demands her." Cola Matteo, who was a plain, straightforward kind
of man, and knew nothing about matters of this sort, went
innocently to the King and delivered his message, 
saying--

     "The messenger should not be beaten more
     Than are the sands upon the shore!"

"Know then that a serpent wants your daughter for his wife, and I
am come to try if we can make a match between a serpent and a
dove!" The King, who saw at a glance that he was a blockhead, to
get rid of him, said, "Go and tell the serpent that I will give him
my daughter if he turns all the fruit of this orchard into gold." And
so saying, he burst out a-laughing, and dismissed him.

When Cola Matteo went home and delivered the answer to the
serpent, he said, "Go to-morrow morning and gather up all the
fruit-stones you can find in the city, and sow them in the orchard,
and you will see pearls strung on rushes!" Cola Mateo, who was no
conjurer, neither knew how to comply nor refuse; so next morning,
as soon as the Sun with his golden broom had swept away the dirt
of the Night from the fields watered by the dawn, he took a basket
on his arm and went from street to street, picking up all the stones
of peaches, plums, nectarines, apricots, and cherries that he could
find. He then went to the orchard of the palace and sowed them, as
the serpent had desired. In an instant the trees shot up, and stems
and branches, leaves, flowers, and fruit were all of glittering 
gold--at the sight of which the King was in an ecstasy of
amazement, and cried aloud with joy.

But when Cola Matteo was sent by the serpent to the King, to
demand the performance of his promise, the King said, "Fair and
easy, I must first have something else if he would have my
daughter; and it is that he make all the walls and the ground of the
orchard to be of precious stones."

When the gardener told this to the serpent, he made answer, "Go
to-morrow morning and gather up all the bits of broken 
crockery-ware you can find, and throw them on the walks and on
the walls of the orchard; for we will not let this small difficulty
stand in our way." As soon, therefore, as the Night, having aided
the robbers, is banished from the sky, and goes about collecting the
faggots of twilight, Cola Matteo took a basket under his arm, and
went about collecting bits of tiles, lids and bottoms of pipkins,
pieces of plate and dishes, handles of jugs, spouts of pitchers. He
picked up all the spoiled, broken, cracked lamps and all the
fragments of pottery he could find in his way. And when he had
done all that the serpent had told him, you could see the whole
orchard mantled with emeralds and chalcedonies, and coated with
rubies and carbuncles, so that the lustre dazzled your eyes. The
King was struck all of a heap by the sight, and knew not what had
befallen him. But when the serpent sent again to let him know that
he was expecting the performance of his promise, the King
answered, "Oh, all that has been done is nothing, if he does not
turn this palace into gold."

When Cola Matteo told the serpent this new fancy of the King's,
the serpent said, "Go and get a bundle of herbs and rub the bottom
of the palace walls with them. We shall see if we cannot satisfy
this whim!" Away went Cola that very moment, and made a great
broom of cabbages, radishes, leeks, parsley, turnips, and carrots;
and when he had rubbed the lower part of the palace with it,
instantly you might see it shining like a golden ball on a 
weather-vane. And when the gardener came again to demand the
hand of the Princess, the King, seeing all his retreat cut off, called
his daughter, and said to her, "My dear Grannonia, I have tried to
get rid of a suitor who asked to marry you, by making such
conditions as seemed to me impossible. But as I am beaten, and
obliged to consent, I pray you, as you are a dutiful daughter, to
enable me to keep my word, and to be content with what Fate wills
and I am obliged to do."

"Do as you please, father," said Grannonia; "I shall not oppose a
single jot of your will!" The King, hearing this, bade Cola Matteo
tell the serpent to come.

The serpent then set out for the palace, mounted on a car all of
gold and drawn by four golden elephants. But wherever he came
the people fled away in terror, seeing such a large and frightful
serpent making his progress through the city; and when he arrived
at the palace, the courtiers all trembled like rushes and ran away;
and even the very scullions did not dare to stay in the place. The
King and Queen, also, shivering with fear, crept into a chamber.
Only Grannonia stood her ground; for though her father and her
mother cried continually, "Fly, fly, Grannonia, save yourself," she
would not stir from the spot, saying, "Why should I fly from the
husband you have given me?" And when the serpent came into the
room, he took Grannonia by the waist, in his tail, and gave her
such a shower of kisses that the King writhed like a worm, and
went as pale as Death. Then the serpent carried her into another
room and fastened the door; and shaking off his skin on the floor,
he became a most beautiful youth, with a head all covered with
ringlets of gold, and with eyes that would enchant you!

When the King saw the serpent go into the room with his daughter
and shut the door after him, he said to his wife, "Heaven have
mercy on that good soul, my daughter! for she is dead to a
certainty, and that accursed serpent has doubtless swallowed her
down like the yolk of an egg." Then he put his eye to the 
key-hole to see what had become of her; but when he saw the
exceeding beauty of the youth, and the skin of the serpent that he
had left lying on the ground, he gave the door a kick, then in they
rushed, and, taking the skin, flung it into the fire and burned it.

When the youth saw this, he cried, "Ah, fools, what have you
done!" and instantly he was turned into a dove and flew at the
window, where, as he struck his head through the panes, he cut
himself sorely.

Grannonia, who thus saw herself at the same moment happy and
unhappy, joyful and miserable, rich and poor, tore her hair and
bewailed her fate, reproaching her father and mother; but they
excused themselves, declaring that they had not meant to do harm.
But she went on weeping and wailing until Night came forth to
drape the canopy of the sky for the funeral of the Sun; and when
they were all in bed, she took her jewels, which were in a 
writing-desk, and went out by the back-door, to search everywhere
for the treasure she had lost.

She went out of the city, guided by the light of the moon; and on
her way she met a fox, who asked her if she wished for company.
"Of all things, my friend," replied Grannonia. "I should be
delighted; for I am not over well acquainted with the country." So
they travelled along together till they came to a wood, where the
trees, at play like children, were making baby-houses for the
shadows to lie in. And as they were now tired and wished to rest,
they sheltered under the leaves where a fountain was playing tricks
with the grass, throwing water on it by the dishful. There they
stretched themselves on a mattress of tender soft grass, and paid
the duty of repose which they owed to Nature for the merchandise
of life.

They did not awake till the Sun, with his usual fire, gave the signal
to sailors and travellers to set out on their road; and, after they
awoke, they still stayed for some time listening to the songs of the
birds, in which Grannonia took great delight. The fox, seeing this,
said to her, "You would feel twice as much pleasure if, like me,
you understood what they are saying." At these words 
Grannonia--for women are by nature as curious as they are
talkative--begged the fox to tell her what he had heard the birds
saying. So, after having let her entreat him for a long time, to raise
her curiosity about what he was going to relate, he told her that the
birds were talking to each other about what had lately befallen the
King's son, who was as beautiful as a jay. Because he had
offended a wicked ogress, she had laid him under a spell to pass
seven years in the form of a serpent; and when he had nearly ended
the seven years, he fell in love with the daughter of a King, and
being one day in a room with the maiden, he had cast his skin on
the ground, when her father and mother rushed in and burned it.
Then, when the Prince was flying away in the shape of a dove, he
broke a pane in the window to escape, and hurt his head so
severely that he was given over by the doctors.

Grannonia, who thus heard her own onions spoken of, asked if
there was any cure for this injury. The fox replied that there was
none other than by anointing his wounds with the blood of those
very birds that had been telling the story. When Grannonia heard
this, she fell down on her knees to the fox, entreating him to catch
those birds for her, that she might get their blood; adding that, like
honest comrades, they would share the gain. "Fair and softly," said
the fox; "let us wait till night, and when the birds are gone to bed,
trust me to climb the tree and capture them, one after the other."

So they waited till Day was gone, and Earth had spread out her
great black board to catch the wax that might drop from the tapers
of Night. Then the fox, as soon as he saw all the birds fast asleep
on the branches, stole up quite softly, and one after another,
throttled all the linnets, larks, tomtits, blackbirds, woodpeckers,
thrushes, jays, fly-catchers, little owls, goldfinches, bullfinches,
chaffinches, and redbreasts that were on the trees. And when he
had killed them all they put the blood in a little bottle, which the
fox carried with him, to refresh himself on the road.

Grannonia was so overjoyed that she hardly touched the ground;
but the fox said to her, "What fine joy in a dream is this, my
daughter! You have done nothing, unless you mix my blood also
with that of the birds"; and so saying he set off to run away.
Grannonia, who saw all her hopes likely to be destroyed, had
recourse to woman's art--flattery; and she said to him, "Gossip
fox, there would be some reason for your saving your hide if I
were not under so many obligations to you, and if there were no
other foxes in the world. But you know how much I owe you, and
that there is no scarcity of the likes of you on these plains. Rely on
my good faith. Don't act like the cow that kicks over the pail
which she has just filled with milk. You have done the chief part,
and now you fail at the last. Do stop! Believe me, and come with
me to the city of this King, where you may sell me for a slave if
you will!"

The fox never dreamed that he could be out-forced by a woman; so
he agreed to travel on with her. But they had hardly gone fifty
paces, when she lifted up the stick she carried and gave him such a
neat rap that he forthwith stretched his legs. Then she put his blood
into the little bottle; and setting off again she stayed not till she
came to Big Valley, where she went straightway to the royal
palace, and sent word that she was come to cure the Prince.

Then the King ordered her to be brought before him, and he was
astonished at seeing a girl undertake a thing which the best doctors
in his kingdom had failed to do. However, a trial could do no
harm; and so he said he wished greatly to see the experiment
made. But Grannonia answered, "If I succeed, you must promise to
give him to me for a husband." The King, who looked on his son
to be even as already dead, answered her, "If you give him to me
safe and sound, I will give him to you sound and safe; for it is no
great matter to give a husband to her that gives me a son."

So they went to the chamber of the Prince, and hardly had she
anointed him with the blood, when he found himself just as if
nothing had ever ailed him. Grannonia, when she saw the Prince
stout and hearty, bade the King keep his word; whereupon he,
turning to his son, said, "My son, a moment ago you were all but
dead, and now I see you alive, and can hardly believe it. Therefore,
as I have promised this maiden that if she cured you she should
have you for a husband, now enable me to perform my promise, by
all the love you bear me, since gratitude obliges me to pay this
debt."

When the Prince heard these words, he said, "Sir, I would that I
was free to prove to you the love I bear you. But as I have already
pledged my faith to another woman, you would not consent that I
should break my word, nor would this maiden wish that I should
do such a wrong to her whom I love; nor can I, indeed, alter my
mind!"

Grannonia, hearing this, felt a secret pleasure not to be described
at finding herself still alive in the memory of the Prince. Her
whole face became crimson as she said, "If I could induce this
maiden to resign her claims, would you then consent to my wish?"
"Never," replied the Prince, "will I banish from this breast the fair
image of her whom I love. I shall ever remain of the same mind
and will; and I would sooner see myself in danger of losing my
place at the table of life than play so mean a trick!"

Grannonia could no longer disguise herself, and discovered to the
Prince who she was; for, the chamber having been darkened on
account of the wound in his head, he had not known her. But the
Prince, now that he recognised her, embraced her with a joy that
would amaze you, telling his father what he had done and suffered
for her. Then they sent to invite her parents, the King and Queen of
Long Field; and they celebrated the wedding with wonderful
festivity, making great sport of the great ninny of a fox, and
concluding at the last of the last that--

     "Pain doth indeed a seasoning prove
     Unto the joys of constant love."



XV

THE SHE-BEAR

Truly the wise man said well that a command of gall cannot be
obeyed like one of sugar. A man must require just and reasonable
things if he would see the scales of obedience properly trimmed.
>From orders which are improper springs resistance which is not
easily overcome, as happened to the King of Rough-Rock, who, by
asking what he ought not of his daughter, caused her to run away
from him, at the risk of losing both honour and life.

There lived, it is said, once upon a time a King of 
Rough-Rock, who had a wife the very mother of beauty, but in the
full career of her years she fell from the horse of health and broke
her life. Before the candle of life went out at the auction of her
years she called her husband and said to him, "I know you have
always loved me tenderly; show me, therefore, at the close of my
days the completion of your love by promising me never to marry
again, unless you find a woman as beautiful as I have been,
otherwise I leave you my curse, and shall bear you hatred even in
the other world." 

The King, who loved his wife beyond measure, hearing this her
last wish, burst into tears, and for some time could not answer a
single word. At last, when he had done weeping, he said to her,
"Sooner than take another wife may the gout lay hold of me; may I
have my head cut off like a mackerel! My dearest love, drive such
a thought from your mind; do not believe in dreams, or that I could
love any other woman; you were the first new coat of my love, and
you shall carry away with you the last rags of my affection."

As he said these words the poor young Queen, who was at the
point of death, turned up her eyes and stretched out her feet. When
the King saw her life thus running out he unstopped the channels
of his eyes, and made such a howling and beating and outcry that
all the Court came running up, calling on the name of the dear
soul, and upbraiding Fortune for taking her from him, and plucking
out his beard, he cursed the stars that had sent him such a
misfortune. But bearing in mind the maxim, "Pain in one's elbow
and pain for one's wife are alike hard to bear, but are soon over,"
ere the Night had gone forth into the place-of-arms in the sky to
muster the bats he began to count upon his fingers and to reflect
thus to himself, "Here is my wife dead, and I am left a wretched
widower, with no hope of seeing any one but this poor daughter
whom she has left me. I must therefore try to discover some means
or other of having a son and heir. But where shall I look? Where
shall I find a woman equal in beauty to my wife? Every one
appears a witch in comparison with her; where, then, shall I find
another with a bit of stick, or seek another with the bell, if Nature
made Nardella (may she be in glory), and then broke the mould?
Alas, in what a labyrinth has she put me, in what a perplexity has
the promise I made her left me! But what do I say? I am running
away before I have seen the wolf; let me open my eyes and ears
and look about; may there not be some other as beautiful? Is it
possible that the world should be lost to me? Is there such a dearth
of women, or is the race extinct?"

So saying he forthwith issued a proclamation and command that
all the handsome women in the world should come to the 
touch-stone of beauty, for he would take the most beautiful to wife
and endow her with a kingdom. Now, when this news was spread
abroad, there was not a woman in the universe who did not come
to try her luck--not a witch, however ugly, who stayed behind; for
when it is a question of beauty, no scullion-wench will
acknowledge herself surpassed; every one piques herself on being
the handsomest; and if the looking-glass tells her the truth she
blames the glass for being untrue, and the quicksilver for being put
on badly.

When the town was thus filled with women the King had them all
drawn up in a line, and he walked up and down from top to
bottom, and as he examined and measured each from head to foot
one appeared to him wry-browed, another long-nosed, another
broad-mouthed, another thick-lipped, another tall as a 
may-pole, another short and dumpy, another too stout, another too
slender; the Spaniard did not please him on account of her dark
colour, the Neopolitan was not to his fancy on account of her gait,
the German appeared cold and icy, the Frenchwoman frivolous and
giddy, the Venetian with her light hair looked like a distaff of flax.
At the end of the end, one for this cause and another for that, he
sent them all away, with one hand before and the other behind;
and, seeing that so many fair faces were all show and no wool, he
turned his thoughts to his own daughter, saying, "Why do I go
seeking the impossible when my daughter Preziosa is formed in
the same mould of beauty as her mother? I have this fair face here
in my house, and yet go looking for it at the fag-end of the world.
She shall marry whom I will, and so I shall have an heir."

When Preziosa heard this she retired to her chamber, and
bewailing her ill-fortune as if she would not leave a hair upon her
head; and, whilst she was lamenting thus, an old woman came to
her, who was her confidant. As soon as she saw Preziosa, who
seemed to belong more to the other world than to this, and heard
the cause of her grief, the old woman said to her, "Cheer up, my
daughter, do not despair; there is a remedy for every evil save
death. Now listen; if your father speaks to you thus once again put
this bit of wood into your mouth, and instantly you will be changed
into a she-bear; then off with you! for in his fright he will let you
depart, and go straight to the wood, where Heaven has kept 
good-fortune in store for you since the day you were born, and
whenever you wish to appear a woman, as you are and will remain,
only take the piece of wood out of your mouth and you will return
to your true form." Then Preziosa embraced the old woman, and,
giving her a good apronful of meal, and ham and bacon, sent her
away.

As soon as the Sun began to change his quarters, the King ordered
the musicians to come, and, inviting all his lords and vassals, he
held a great feast. And after dancing for five or six hours, they all
sat down to table, and ate and drank beyond measure. Then the
King asked his courtiers to whom he should marry Preziosa, as she
was the picture of his dead wife. But the instant Preziosa heard
this, she slipped the bit of wood into her mouth, and took the
figure of a terrible she-bear, at the sight of which all present were
frightened out of their wits, and ran off as fast as they could
scamper.

Meanwhile Preziosa went out, and took her way to a wood, where
the Shades were holding a consultation how they might do some
mischief to the Sun at the close of day. And there she stayed, in the
pleasant companionship of the other animals, until the son of the
King of Running-Water came to hunt in that part of the country,
who, at the sight of the bear, had like to have died on the spot. But
when he saw the beast come gently up to him, wagging her tail like
a little dog and rubbing her sides against him, he took courage, and
patted her, and said, "Good bear, good bear! there, there! poor
beast, poor beast!" Then he led her home and ordered that she
should be taken great care of; and he had her put into a garden
close to the royal palace, that he might see her from the window
whenever he wished.

One day, when all the people of the house were gone out, and the
Prince was left alone, he went to the window to look out at the
bear; and there he beheld Preziosa, who had taken the piece of
wood out of her mouth, combing her golden tresses.  At the sight
of this beauty, which was beyond the beyonds, he had like to have
lost his senses with amazement, and tumbling down the stairs he
ran out into the garden. But Preziosa, who was on the watch and
observed him, popped the piece of wood into her mouth, and was
instantly changed into a bear again.

When the Prince came down and looked about in vain for
Preziosa, whom he had seen from the window above, he was so
amazed at the trick that a deep melancholy came over him, and in
four days he fell sick, crying continually, "My bear, my bear!" His
mother, hearing him wailing thus, imagined that the bear had done
him some hurt, and gave orders that she should be killed. But the
servants, enamoured of the tameness of the bear, who made herself
beloved by the very stones in the road, took pity on her, and,
instead of killing her, they led her to the wood, and told the queen
that they had put an end to her.

When this came to the ears of the Prince, he acted in a way to pass
belief. Ill or well he jumped out of bed, and was going at once to
make mincemeat of the servants. But when they told him the truth
of the affair, he jumped on horseback, half-dead as he was, and
went rambling about and seeking everywhere, until at length he
found the bear. Then he took her home again, and putting her into
a chamber, said to her, "O lovely morsel for a King, who art shut
up in this skin! O candle of love, who art enclosed within this hairy
lanthorn! Wherefore all this trifling? Do you wish to see me pine
and pant, and die by inches? I am wasting away; without hope, and
tormented by thy beauty. And you see clearly the proof, for I am
shrunk two-thirds in size, like wine boiled down, and am nothing
but skin and bone, for the fever is double-stitched to my veins. So
lift up the curtain of this hairy hide, and let me gaze upon the
spectacle of thy beauty! Raise, O raise the leaves off this basket,
and let me get a sight of the fine fruit beneath! Lift up that curtain,
and let my eyes pass in to behold the pomp of wonders! Who has
shut up so smooth a creature in a prison woven of hair? Who has
locked up so rich a treasure in a leathern chest? Let me behold this
display of graces, and take in payment all my love; for nothing else
can cure the troubles I endure."

But when he had said, again and again, this and a great deal more,
and still saw that all his words were thrown away, he took to his
bed, and had such a desperate fit that the doctors prognosticated
badly of his case. Then his mother, who had no other joy in the
world, sat down by his bedside, and said to him, "My son, whence
comes all this grief? What melancholy humour has seized you?
You are young, you are loved, you are great, you are 
rich--what then is it you want, my son? Speak; a bashful beggar
carries an empty bag. If you want a wife, only choose, and I will
bring the match about; do you take, and I'll pay. Do you not see
that your illness is an illness to me? Your pulse beats with fever in
your veins, and my heart beats with illness in my brain, for I have
no other support of my old age than you. So be cheerful now, and
cheer up my heart, and do not see the whole kingdom thrown into
mourning, this house into lamentation, and your mother forlorn
and heart-broken."

When the Prince heard these words, he said, "Nothing can console
me but the sight of the bear. Therefore, if you wish to see me well
again, let her be brought into this chamber; I will have no one else
to attend me, and make my bed, and cook for me, but she herself;
and you may be sure that this pleasure will make me well in a
trice."

Thereupon his mother, although she thought it ridiculous enough
for the bear to act as cook and chambermaid, and feared that her
son was not in his right mind, yet, in order to gratify him, had the
bear fetched. And when the bear came up to the Prince's bed, she
raised her paw and felt the patient's pulse, which made the Queen
laugh outright, for she thought every moment that the bear would
scratch his nose. Then the Prince said, "My dear bear, will you not
cook for me, and give me my food, and wait upon me?" and the
bear nodded her head, to show that she accepted the office. Then
his mother had some fowls brought, and a fire lighted on the
hearth in the same chamber, and some water set to boil;
whereupon the bear, laying hold on a fowl, scalded and plucked it
handily, and drew it, and then stuck one portion of it on the spit,
and with the other part she made such a delicious hash that the
Prince, who could not relish even sugar, licked his fingers at the
taste. And when he had done eating, the bear handed him drink
with such grace that the Queen was ready to kiss her on the
forehead. Thereupon the Prince arose, and the bear quickly set
about making the bed; and running into the garden, she gathered a
clothful of roses and citron-flowers and strewed them over it, so
that the queen said the bear was worth her weight in gold, and that
her son had good reason to be fond of her.

But when the Prince saw these pretty offices they only added fuel
to the fire; and if before he wasted by ounces, he now melted away
by pounds, and he said to the Queen, "My lady mother, if I do not
give this bear a kiss, the breath will leave my body." Whereupon
the Queen, seeing him fainting away, said, "Kiss him, kiss him, my
beautiful beast! Let me not see my poor son die of longing!" Then
the bear went up to the Prince, and taking him by the cheeks,
kissed him again and again. Meanwhile (I know not how it was)
the piece of wood slipped out of Preziosa's mouth, and she
remained in the arms of the Prince, the most beautiful creature in
the world; and pressing her to his heart, he said, "I have caught
you, my little rogue! You shall not escape from me again without a
good reason." At these words Preziosa, adding the colour of
modesty to the picture of her natural beauty, said to him, "I am
indeed in your hands--only guard me safely, and marry me when
you will."

Then the Queen inquired who the beautiful maiden was, and what
had brought her to this savage life; and Preziosa related the whole
story of her misfortunes, at which the Queen, praising her as a
good and virtuous girl, told her son that she was content that
Preziosa should be his wife. Then the Prince, who desired nothing
else in life, forthwith pledged her his faith; and the mother giving
them her blessing, this happy marriage was celebrated with great
feasting and illuminations, and Preziosa experienced the truth of
the saying that--

     "One who acts well may always expect good."



XVI

THE DOVE

He who is born a prince should not act like a beggar boy. The man
who is high in rank ought not to set a bad example to those below
him; for the little donkey learns from the big one to eat straw. It is
no wonder, therefore, that Heaven sends him troubles by 
bushels--as happened to a prince who was brought into great
difficulties for ill-treating and tormenting a poor woman, so that he
was near losing his life miserably.

About eight miles from Naples there was once a deep wood of 
fig-trees and poplars. In this wood stood a half-ruined cottage,
wherein dwelt an old woman, who was as light of teeth as she was
burdened with years. She had a hundred wrinkles in her face, and a
great many more in her purse, and all her silver covered her head,
so that she went from one thatched cottage to another, begging
alms to keep life in her. But as folks nowadays much rather give a
purseful of crowns to a crafty spy than a farthing to a poor needy
man, she had to toil a whole day to get a dish of kidney-beans, and
that at a time when they were very plentiful. Now one day the poor
old woman, after having washed the beans, put them in a pot,
placed it outside the window, and went on her way to the wood to
gather sticks for the fire. But while she was away, Nardo Aniello,
the King's son, passed by the cottage on his way to the chase; and,
seeing the pot at the window, he took a great fancy to have a fling
at it; and he made a bet with his attendants to see who should fling
the straightest and hit in the middle with a stone. Then they began
to throw at the innocent pot; and in three or four casts the prince
hit it to a hair and won the bet.

The old woman returned just after they had gone away, and seeing
the sad disaster, she began to act as if she were beside herself,
crying, "Ay, let him stretch out his arm and go about boasting how
he has broken this pot! The villainous rascal who has sown my
beans out of season. If he had no compassion for my misery, he
should have had some regard for his own interest; for I pray
Heaven, on my bare knees and from the bottom of my soul, that he
may fall in love with the daughter of some ogress, who may plague
and torment him in every way. May his mother-in-law lay on him
such a curse that he may see himself living and yet bewail himself
as dead; and being spellbound by the beauty of the daughter, and
the arts of the mother, may he never be able to escape, but be
obliged to remain. May she order him about with a cudgel in her
hand, and give him bread with a little fork, that he may have good
cause to lament over my beans which he has spilt on the ground."
The old woman's curses took wing and flew up to Heaven in a
trice; so that, notwithstanding what a proverb says, "for a woman's
curse you are never the worse, and the coat of a horse that has been
cursed always shines," she rated the Prince so soundly that he
well-nigh jumped out of his skin.

Scarcely had two hours passed when the Prince, losing himself in
the wood and parted from his attendants, met a beautiful maiden,
who was going along picking up snails and saying with a 
laugh--

     "Snail, snail, put out your horn,
     Your mother is laughing you to scorn,
     For she has a little son just born."

When the Prince saw this beautiful apparition he knew not what
had befallen him; and, as the beams from the eyes of that crystal
face fell upon the tinder of his heart, he was all in a flame, so that
he became a lime-kiln wherein the stones of designs were burnt to
build the houses of hopes.

Now Filadoro (for so the maiden was named) was no wiser than
other people; and the Prince, being a smart young fellow with
handsome moustachios, pierced her heart through and through, so
that they stood looking at one another for compassion with their
eyes, which proclaimed aloud the secret of their souls. After they
had both remained thus for a long time, unable to utter a single
word, the Prince at last, finding his voice, addressed Filadoro thus,
"From what meadow has this flower of beauty sprung? From what
mine has this treasure of beauteous things come to light? O happy
woods, O fortunate groves, which this nobility inhabits, which this
illumination of the festivals of love irradiates."

"Kiss this hand, my lord," answered Filadoro, "not so much
modesty; for all the praise that you have bestowed on me belongs
to your virtues, not to my merits. Such as I am, handsome or ugly,
fat or thin, a witch or a fairy, I am wholly at your command; for
your manly form has captivated my heart, your princely mien has
pierced me through from side to side, and from this moment I give
myself up to you for ever as a chained slave."

At these words the Prince seized at once her hand, kissing the
ivory hook that had caught his heart. At this ceremony of the
prince, Filadoro's face grew as red as scarlet. But the more Nardo
Aniello wished to continue speaking, the more his tongue seemed
tied; for in this wretched life there is no wine of enjoyment
without dregs of vexation. And just at this moment Filadoro's
mother suddenly appeared, who was such an ugly ogress that
Nature seemed to have formed her as a model of horrors. Her hair
was like a besom of holly; her forehead like a rough stone; her
eyes were comets that predicted all sorts of evils; her mouth had
tusks like a boar's--in short, from head to foot she was ugly beyond
imagination. Now she seized Nardo Aniello by the nape of his
neck, saying, "Hollo! what now, you thief! you rogue!"

"Yourself the rogue," replied the Prince, "back with you, old hag!"
And he was just going to draw his sword, when all at once he stood
fixed like a sheep that has seen the wolf and can neither stir nor
utter a sound, so that the ogress led him like an ass by the halter to
her house. And when they came there she said to him, "Mind, now,
and work like a dog, unless you wish to die like a dog. For your
first task to-day you must have this acre of land dug and sown
level as this room; and recollect that if I return in the evening and
do not find the work finished, I shall eat you up." Then, bidding
her daughter take care of the house, she went to a meeting of the
other ogresses in the wood.

Nardo Aniello, seeing himself in this dilemma, began to bathe his
breast with tears, cursing his fate which brought him to this pass.
But Filadoro comforted him, bidding him be of good heart, for she
would ever risk her life to assist him. She said that she ought not to
lament his fate which had led him to the house where she lived,
who loved him so dearly, and that he showed little return for her
love by being so despairing at what had happened. The Prince
replied: "I am not grieved at having exchanged the royal palace for
this hovel; splendid banquets for a crust of bread; a sceptre for a
spade; not at seeing myself, who have terrified armies, now
frightened by this hideous scarecrow; for I should deem all my
disasters good fortune to be with you and to gaze upon you with
these eyes. But what pains me to the heart is that I have to dig till
my hands are covered with hard skin--I whose fingers are so
delicate and soft as Barbary wool; and, what is still worse, I have
to do more than two oxen could get through in a day. If I do not
finish the task this evening your mother will eat me up; yet I
should not grieve so much to quit this wretched body as to be
parted from so beautiful a creature."

So saying he heaved sighs by bushels, and shed many tears. But
Filadoro, drying his eyes, said to him, "Fear not that my mother
will touch a hair of your head. Trust to me and do not be afraid; for
you must know that I possess magical powers, and am able to
make cream set on water and to darken the sun. Be of good heart,
for by the evening the piece of land will be dug and sown without
any one stirring a hand."

When Nardo Aniello heard this, he answered, "If you have magic
power, as you say, O beauty of the world, why do we not fly from
this country? For you shall live like a queen in my father's house."
And Filadoro replied, "A certain conjunction of the stars prevents
this, but the trouble will soon pass and we shall be happy."

With these and a thousand other pleasant discourses the day
passed, and when the ogress came back she called to her daughter
from the road and said, "Filadoro, let down your hair," for as the
house had no staircase she always ascended by her daughter's
tresses. As soon as Filadoro heard her mother's voice she unbound
her hair and let fall her tresses, making a golden ladder to an iron
heart. Whereupon the old woman mounted up quickly, and ran into
the garden; but when she found it all dug and sown, she was beside
herself with amazement; for it seemed to her impossible that a
delicate lad should have accomplished such hard labour.

But the next morning, hardly had the Sun gone out to warm
himself on account of the cold he had caught in the river of India,
than the ogress went down again, bidding Nardo Aniello take care
that in the evening she should find ready split six stacks of wood
which were in the cellar, with every log cleft into four pieces, or
otherwise she would cut him up like bacon and make a fry of him
for supper.

On hearing this decree the poor Prince had liked to have died of
terror, and Filadoro, seeing him half dead and pale as ashes, said,
"Why! What a coward you are to be frightened at such a trifle."
"Do you think it a trifle," replied Nardo Aniello, "to split six
stacks of wood, with every log cleft into four pieces, between this
time and the evening? Alas, I shall sooner be cleft in halves myself
to fill the mouth of this horrid old woman." "Fear not," answered
Filadoro, "for without giving yourself any trouble the wood shall
all be split in good time. But meanwhile cheer up, if you love me,
and do not split my heart with such lamentations."

Now when the Sun had shut up the shop of his rays, in order not to
sell light to the Shades, the old woman returned; and, bidding
Filadoro let down the usual ladder, she ascended, and finding the
wood already split she began to suspect it was her own daughter
who had given her this check. At the third day, in order to make a
third trial, she told the Prince to clean out for her a cistern which
held a thousand casks of water, for she wished to fill it anew,
adding that if the task were not finished by the evening she would
make mincemeat of him. When the old woman went away Nardo
Aniello began again to weep and wail; and Filadoro, seeing that
the labours increased, and that the old woman had something of
the brute in her to burden the poor fellow with such tasks and
troubles, said to him, "Be quiet, and as soon as the moment has
passed that interrupts my art, before the Sun says  I am off,' we
will say good-bye to this house; sure enough, this evening my
mother shall find the land cleared, and I will go off with you, alive
or dead." The Prince, on hearing this news, embraced Filadoro and
said, "Thou art the pole-star of this storm-tossed bark, my soul!
Thou art the prop of my hopes."

Now, when the evening drew nigh, Filadoro having dug a hole in
the garden into a large underground passage, they went out and
took the way to Naples. But when they arrived at the grotto of
Pozzuolo, Nardo Aniello said to Filadoro, "It will never do for me
to take you to the palace on foot and dressed in this manner.
Therefore wait at this inn and I will soon return with horses,
carriages, servants, and clothes." So Filadoro stayed behind and
the Prince went on his way to the city. Meantime the ogress
returned home, and as Filadoro did not answer to her usual
summons, she grew suspicious, ran into the wood, and cutting a
great, long pole, placed it against the window and climbed up like
a cat. Then she went into the house and hunted everywhere inside
and out, high and low, but found no one. At last she perceived the
hole, and seeing that it led into the open air, in her rage she did not
leave a hair upon her head, cursing her daughter and the Prince,
and praying that at the first kiss Filadoro's lover should receive he
might forget her.

But let us leave the old woman to say her wicked curses and return
to the Prince, who on arriving at the palace, where he was thought
to be dead, put the whole house in an uproar, every one running to
meet him and crying, "Welcome! welcome! Here he is, safe and
sound, how happy we are to see him back in this country," with a
thousand other words of affection. But as he was going up the
stairs his mother met him half-way and embraced and kissed him,
saying, "My son, my jewel, the apple of my eye, where have you
been and why have you stayed away so long to make us all die
with anxiety?" The Prince knew not what to answer, for he did not
wish to tell her of his misfortunes; but no sooner had his mother
kissed him than, owing to the curse, all that had passed went from
his memory. Then the Queen told her son that to put an end to his
going hunting and wasting his time in the woods, she wished him
to get married. "Well and good," replied the Prince, "I am ready
and prepared to do what you desire." So it was settled that within
four days they should lead home to him the bride who had just
arrived from the country of Flanders; and thereupon a great
feasting and banquets were held.

But meanwhile Filadoro, seeing that her husband stayed away so
long and hearing (I know not how) of the feast, waited in the
evening till the servant-lad of the inn had gone to bed, and taking
his clothes from the head of the bed, she left her own in their
place, and disguising herself like a man, went to the court of the
king, where the cooks, being in want of help, took her as kitchen
boy. When the tables were set out and the guests all took their
seats, and the dishes were set down and the carver was cutting up a
large English pie which Filadoro had made with her own hands, lo,
out flew such a beautiful dove that the guests in their
astonishment, forgetting to eat, fell to admiring the pretty bird,
which said to the Prince in a piteous voice, "Have you so soon
forgotten the love of Filadoro, and have all the services you
received from her, ungrateful man, gone from your memory? Is it
thus you repay the benefits she has done you: she who took you out
of the claws of the ogress and gave you life and herself too? Woe
to the woman who trusts too much to the words of man, who ever
requites kindness with ingratitude, and pays debts with
forgetfulness. But go, forget your promises, false man. And may
the curses follow you which the unhappy maiden sends you from
the bottom of her heart. But if the gods have not locked up their
ears they will witness the wrong you have done her, and when you
least expect it the lightning and thunder, fever and illness, will
come to you. Enough, eat and drink, take your sports, for unhappy
Filadoro, deceived and forsaken, will leave you the field open to
make merry with your new wife." So saying, the dove flew away
quickly and vanished like the wind. The Prince, hearing the
murmuring of the dove, stood for a while stupefied. At length, he
inquired whence the pie came, and when the carver told him that a
scullion boy who had been taken to assist in the kitchen had made
it, he ordered him to be brought into the room. Then Filadoro,
throwing herself at the feet of Nardo Aniello, shedding a torrent of
tears, said merely, "What have I done to you?" Whereupon the
Prince at once recalled to mind the engagement he had made with
her; and, instantly raising her up, seated her by his side, and when
he related to his mother the great obligation he was under to this
beautiful maiden and all that she had done for him, and how it was
necessary that the promise he had given should be fulfilled, his
mother, who had no other joy in life than her son, said to him, "Do
as you please, so that you offend not this lady whom I have given
you to wife." "Be not troubled," said the lady, "for, to tell the
truth, I am very loth to remain in this country; with your kind
permission I wish to return to my dear Flanders." Thereupon the
Prince with great joy offered her a vessel and attendants; and,
ordering Filadoro to be dressed like a Princess, when the tables
were removed, the musicians came and they began the ball which
lasted until evening.

So the feast being now ended, they all betook themselves to rest,
and the Prince and Filadoro lived happily ever after, proving the
truth of the proverb that--
 
     "He who stumbles and does not fall,
     Is helped on his way like a rolling ball."



XVII

CANNETELLA

It is an evil thing 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 whose 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. And at last his wife presented him with a little girl, to
whom he gave the name Cannetella.

The child grew by hands, and when she was as tall as a pole the
King said to her, "My daughter, you are now grown as big 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 man in years? brown or
fair or ruddy? tall as a maypole or short as a peg? small in the
waist or round as an ox? Do you choose, and I am satisfied."

Cannetella thanked her father for these generous offers, 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 husband 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, Cannetella! 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 an
almond fell out of the youth's mouth, whereupon, stooping down,
he picked it up dexterously 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 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 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 excuses, and that 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, dear father, I really feel that you are digging
in the sea and making a wrong reckoning on your fingers. I will
never subject myself to any man 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 painted on a wall. He, 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 he walked
past under the window of the King, who, when he saw the very
man he was looking for, called his daughter. 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 quicksilver in your body! 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 many as the sands on the sea-shore." 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 white oxen are yoked in their place, they
came to a stable where some horses were feeding. Fioravante led
Cannetella into it and said, "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 carry out your commands exactly, but
tell me what you will leave me to live upon in the meantime." And
Fioravante answered, "What the horses leave of their own corn
will be enough for you."

Only conceive how poor Cannetella now felt, and guess whether
she did not curse the hour and moment she was born! Cold and
frozen, she made up in tears what she wanted in food, bewailing
her fate which had brought her down from a royal palace to a
stable, from mattresses of Barbary wool to straw, 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 grottoes of citron, 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 great 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 after, 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 his knife,
was about to kill her, but, falling on her knees, she besought him to
stay his hand, 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 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! Oh, father, why 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. I wished for a
head of gold, only to come to grief and die by iron! This is the
punishment of Fate, 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." And so she
lamented every day, until her eyes became two fountains, and her
face was so thin and sallow, that 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 heard his name, but did not recognise the poor girl, who
was so much altered; but when he knew who she was, and how she
had become thus changed, partly out of pity and partly to gain the
King's favour, he put her into an empty cask 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 at
first the servants would not let him in, but roundly abused him for
coming at such an hour to disturb the sleep of the whole house.
The King, however, hearing the uproar, and being told by a
chamberlain what was the matter, ordered the smith to be instantly
admitted, for he knew that something unusual must have made him
come at that hour. Then the smith, unloading his beast, knocked
out the head of the cask, and forth came Cannetella, who needed
more than words to make her father recognise her, and had it not
been for a mole on her arm she might well have been dismissed.
But as soon as he was assured of the truth he embraced and kissed
her a thousand times. Then he instantly commanded a warm bath
to be got ready; when she was washed from head to foot, and had
dressed herself, he ordered food to be brought, for she was faint
with hunger. Then her father said to her, "Who would ever have
told me, my child, that I should see you in this plight? Who has
brought you to this sad condition?" And she answered, "Alas, my
dear sire, that Barbary Turk has made me lead the life of a dog, so
that I was nearly at death's door again and again. I cannot tell you
what I have suffered, but, now that I am here, never more will I stir
from your feet. Rather will I be a servant in your house than a
queen in 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, off he ran
towards High-Hill, and, meeting an old woman who lived opposite
to the palace, he said to her, "What will you charge, 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 the other. Thereupon the old
woman took him up on the roof, where he saw Cannetella drying
her hair on a balcony. But--just as if her heart had whispered to
her--the maiden turned that way and saw the knave. She rushed
downstairs 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 pots of rouge, and make your way to the
chamber of the King's daughter. When you are there contrive to
slip this little piece of paper between the bed-clothes, saying, in an
undertone, 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.

Now, as soon as she had done this trick, such a sound sleep fell on
the people of the house that they seemed as if they all were dead.
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, and there was no one to run to her aid. So
Fioravante threw down all the seven doors, and, entering her room,
seized up Cannetella, bed-clothes and all, to carry her off. But, as
luck would have it, the paper the old woman had put there fell on
the ground, and the spell was broken. All the people of the house
awoke, and, hearing Cannetella's cries, 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 trap he had laid for poor
Cannetella, learning to his cost that--

     "No one suffereth greater pain
     Than he who by his own sword is slain."



XVIII

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; where, at
the same time, people cut and sew up, wound and heal, break and
glue together--of which I will give you one instance in the story
that 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. These courtiers were filled
with spite and malice, and bursting with envy at the kindness
which the King showed to Corvetto; so that all 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 practised on the King that he takes such a fancy to him?
How comes he by this luck that not a day passes that he receives
some new favours, whilst we are for ever going backward like a
rope-maker, and getting from bad to worse, though we slave like
dogs, toil like field-labourers, and run 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 might as well be thrown
into the sea. What is to be done? We can only look on and envy."
These and other words fell from their mouths like poisoned arrows
aimed at the ruin of Corvetto as at a target. Alas for him who is
condemned to that den the Court, where flattery is sold by the
kilderkin, malignity and ill-offices are measured out in bushels,
deceit and treachery are weighed by the ton! But who can count all
the attempts these courtiers made to bring him to grief, or the false
tales that they told to the King to destroy his reputation! But
Corvetto, who was enchanted, and perceived the traps, and
discovered the tricks, was aware of all the intrigues and the
ambuscades, the plots and conspiracies of his enemies. He kept his
ears always on the alert and his eyes open in order not to take a
false step, well knowing that the fortune of courtiers is as glass.
But the higher the lad continued to rise the lower the others fell;
till 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
disaster by the path of flattery, 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 Ogreland, 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 was so thick and tangled that one could never
see the sun there. This ogre had a most beautiful horse, which
looked as if it were formed with a pencil; and amongst other
wonderful things, 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 puffed 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.

"Where 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 imp! the imp! 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. 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, porticoes, 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 instantly
set out heels over head; and arriving at the ogre's palace, he found
that the ogress, whilst her husband was gone to invite the kinsfolk,
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 ill in
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."



XIX

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, 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 bean 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 and sharpen the judgment,
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 is your trade?" "My name,"
replied the lad, "is Quick-ear; I am from Vale-Curious; and when I
put my ear 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 no one has ever been able
to discover 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 farther, 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 Shoot-straight; 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 Blow-blast; 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 in
transports; if you wish for a squall, I will throw down houses."

"Seeing is believing," said Moscione. Whereupon 
Blow-blast 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 Strong-back; 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.  But I should like to see a proof of what you
say."

Then Strong-back 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 over-take 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, dressed in a little gown, tucked 
half-way 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 
grey-hounds after them, horses broken loose from the stable, or
dogs with kettles tied to their tails. But Lightning (as he was both
by name and nature) left the princess more than a 
hand's-breadth 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 run; then she sent it as a present to
Lightning, begging him to wear it on his finger for love of her.

Quick-ear, 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, 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 an old donkey and a foundered horse, for he
could not stir a step. But Shoot-straight, who saw his comrade's
danger, and heard from Quick-ear how matters stood, laid hold of
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 Ciannetella 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
Ciannetella 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 
Strong-back, 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 six
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 Quick-ear, 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, Blow-blast, 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 the 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 a
simpleton laden with gold, not giving the lie to the 
saying--

     "Heaven sends biscuits to him who has no teeth."



XX

THE STONE IN THE COCK'S HEAD

 The robber's wife does not always laugh; he who weaves fraud
works his own ruin; there is no deceit which is not at last
discovered, no treachery that does not come to light; walls have
ears, and are spies to rogues; the earth gapes and discovers theft, as
I will prove to you if you pay attention.

There was once in the city of Dark-Grotto a certain man named
Minecco Aniello, who was so persecuted by fortune that all his
fixtures and moveables consisted only of a short-legged cock,
which he had reared upon bread-crumbs. But one morning, being
pinched with appetite (for hunger drives the wolf from the thicket),
he took it into his head to sell the cock, and, taking it to the
market, he met two thievish magicians, with whom he made a
bargain, and sold it for half-a-crown. So they told him to take it to
their house, and they would count him out the money. Then the
magicians went their way, and, Minecco Aniello following them,
overheard them talking gibberish together and saying, "Who would
have told us that we should meet with such a piece of good luck,
Jennarone? This cock will make our fortune to a certainty by the
stone which, you know, he has in his pate. We will quickly have it
set in a ring, and then we shall have everything we can ask for."

"Be quiet, Jacovuccio," answered Jennarone; "I see myself rich
and can hardly believe it, and I am longing to twist the cock's neck
and give a kick in the face of beggary, for in this world virtue
without money goes for nothing, and a man is judged of by his
coat."

When Minecco Aniello, who had travelled about in the world and
eaten bread from more than one oven, heard this gibberish he
turned on his heel and scampered off. And, running home, he
twisted the cock's neck, and opening its head found the stone,
which he had instantly set in a brass ring. Then, to make a trial of
its virtue, he said, "I wish to become a youth eighteen years old."

Hardly had he uttered the words when his blood began to flow
more quickly, his nerves became stronger, his limbs firmer, his
flesh fresher, his eyes more fiery, his silver hairs were turned into
gold, his mouth, which was a sacked village, became peopled with
teeth; his beard, which was as thick as a wood, became like a
nursery garden--in short, he was changed to a most beautiful youth.
Then he said again, "I wish for a splendid palace, and to marry the
King's daughter." And lo! there instantly appeared a palace of
incredible magnificence, in which were apartments that would
amaze you, columns to astound you, pictures to fill you with
wonder; silver glittered around, and gold was trodden underfoot;
the jewels dazzled your eyes; the servants swarmed like ants, the
horses and carriages were not to be counted--in short, there was
such a display of riches that the King stared at the sight, and
willingly gave him his daughter Natalizia.

Meanwhile the magicians, having discovered Minecco Aniello's
great wealth, laid a plan to rob him of his good fortune, so they
made a pretty little doll which played and danced by means of
clockwork; and, dressing themselves like merchants, they went to
Pentella, the daughter of Minecco Aniello, under pretext of selling
it to her. When Pentella saw the beautiful little thing she asked
them what price they put upon it, and they replied that it was not to
be bought with money, but that she might have it and welcome if
she would only do them a favour, which was to let them see the
make of the ring which her father possessed, in order to take the
model and make another like it, then they would give her the doll
without any payment at all.

Pentella, who had never heard the proverb, "Think well before you
buy anything cheap," instantly accepted this offer, and, bidding
them return the next morning, she promised to ask her father to
lend her the ring. So the magicians went away, and when her
father returned home Pentella coaxed and caressed him, until at
last she persuaded him to give her the ring, making the excuse that
she was sad at heart, and wished to divert her mind a little.

When the next day came, as soon as the scavenger of the Sun
sweeps the last traces of the Shades from the streets and squares of
Heaven, the magicians returned, and no sooner had they the ring in
their hands than they instantly vanished, and not a trace of them
was to be seen, so that poor Pentella had like to have died with
terror.

But when the magicians came to a wood, where the branches of
some of the trees were dancing the sword-dance, and the boughs of
the others were playing together at hot-cockles, they desired the
ring to destroy the spell by which the old man had become young
again. And instantly Minecco Aniello, who was just at that
moment in the presence of the King, was suddenly seen to grow
hoary, his hairs to whiten, his forehead to wrinkle, his eyebrows to
grow bristly, his eyes to sink in, his face to be furrowed, his mouth
to become toothless, his beard to grow bushy, his back to be
humped, his legs to tremble, and, above all, his glittering garments
to turn to rags and tatters.

The King, seeing the miserable beggar seated beside him at table,
ordered him to be instantly driven away with blows and hard
words, whereupon Aniello, thus suddenly fallen from his good
luck, went weeping to his daughter, and asked for the ring in order
to set matters to rights again. But when he heard the fatal trick
played by the false merchants he was ready to throw himself out of
the window, cursing a thousand times the ignorance of his
daughter, who, for the sake of a silly doll had turned him into a
miserable scarecrow, and for a paltry thing of rags had brought
him to rags himself, adding that he was resolved to go wandering
about the world like a bad shilling, until he should get tidings of
those merchants. So saying he threw a cloak about his neck and a
wallet on his back, drew his sandals on his feet, took a staff in his
hand, and, leaving his daughter all chilled and frozen, he set out
walking desperately on and on until he arrived at the kingdom of
Deep-Hole, inhabited by the mice, where, being taken for a big spy
of the cats, he was instantly led before Rosecone, the King. Then
the King asked him who he was, whence he came, and what he
was about in that country; and Minecco Aniello, after first giving
the King a cheese-paring, in sign of tribute, related to him all his
misfortunes one by one, and concluded by saying that he was
resolved to continue his toil and travel, until he should get tidings
of those thievish villains who had robbed him of so precious a
jewel, taking from him at once the flower of his youth, the source
of his wealth, and the prop of his honour.

At these words Rosecone felt pity nibbling at his heart, and,
wishing to comfort the poor man, he summoned the eldest mice to
a council, and asked their opinions on the misfortunes of Minecco
Aniello, commanding them to use all diligence and endeavour to
obtain some tidings of these false merchants. Now, among the rest,
it happened that Rudolo and Saltariello were present--mice who
were well used to the ways of the world, and had lived for six
years at a tavern of great resort hard by; and they said to Aniello,
"Be of good heart, comrade! matters will turn out better than you
imagine. You must know that one day, when we were in a room in
the hostelry of the  Horn,' where the most famous men in the
world lodge and make merry, two persons from Hook Castle came
in, who, after they had eaten their fill and had seen the bottom of
their flagon, fell to talking of a trick they had played a certain old
man of Dark-Grotto, and how they had cheated him out of a stone
of great value, which one of them, named Jennarone, said he
would never take from his finger, that he might not run the risk of
losing it as the old man's daughter had done."

When Minecco Aniello heard this, he told the two mice that if they
would trust themselves to accompany him to the country where
these rogues lived and recover the ring for him, he would give
them a good lot of cheese and salt meat, which they might eat and
enjoy with his majesty the King. Then the two mice, after
bargaining for a reward, offered to go over sea and mountain, and,
taking leave of his mousy majesty, they set out.

After journeying a long way they arrived at Hook Castle, where the
mice told Minecco Aniello to remain under some trees on the
brink of a river, which like a leech drew the moisture from the
land and discharged it into the sea. Then they went to seek the
house of the magicians, and, observing that Jennarone never took
the ring from his finger, they sought to gain the victory by
stratagem. So, waiting till Night had dyed with purple 
grape-juice the sunburnt face of Heaven, and the magicians had
gone to bed and were fast asleep, Rudolo began to nibble the
finger on which the ring was, whereupon Jennarone, feeling the
smart, took the ring off and laid it on a table at the head of the bed.
But as soon as Saltariello saw this, he popped the ring into his
mouth, and in four skips he was off to find Minecco Aniello, who,
with even greater joy than a man at the gallows feels when a
pardon arrives, instantly turned the magicians into two jackasses;
and, turning his mantle over one of them, he bestrode him like a
noble count, then he loaded the other with cheese and bacon, and
set off toward Deep-Hole, where, having given presents to the
King and his councillors, he thanked them for all the good fortune
he had received by their assistance, praying Heaven that no 
mouse-trap might ever lay hold of them, that no cat might ever
harm them, and that no arsenic might ever poison them.

Then, leaving that country, Minecco Aniello returned to 
Dark-Grotto even more handsome than before, and was received
by the King and his daughter with the greatest affection in the
world. And, having ordered the two asses to be cast down from a
rock, he lived happily with his wife, never more taking the ring
from his finger that he might not again commit such a folly, 
for--

     "The cat who has been burnt with fire ever after fears the cold
hearthstone."



XXI

THE THREE ENCHANTED PRINCES

Once upon a time the King of Green-Bank had three daughters,
who were perfect jewels, with whom three sons of the King of
Fair-Meadow were desperately in love. But these Princes having
been changed into animals by the spell of a fairy, the King of
Green-Bank disdained to give them his daughters to wife.
Whereupon the first, who was a beautiful Falcon, called together
all the birds to a council; and there came the chaffinches, tomtits,
woodpeckers, fly-catchers, jays, blackbirds, cuckoos, thrushes, and
every other kind of bird. And when they were all assembled at his
summons, he ordered them to destroy all the blossoms on the trees
of Green-Bank, so that not a flower or leaf should remain. The
second Prince, who was a Stag, summoning all the goats, rabbits,
hares, hedgehogs, and other animals of that country, laid waste all
the corn-fields so that there was not a single blade of grass or corn
left. The third Prince, who was a Dolphin, consulting together with
a hundred monsters of the sea, made such a tempest arise upon the
coast that not a boat escaped.

Now the King saw that matters were going from bad to worse, and
that he could not remedy the mischief which these three wild
lovers were causing; so he resolved to get out of his trouble, and
made up his mind to give them his daughters to wife; and
thereupon, without wanting either feasts or songs, they carried
their brides off and out of the kingdom.

On parting from her daughters, Granzolla the Queen gave each of
them a ring, one exactly like the other, telling them that if they
happened to be separated, and after a while to meet again, or to see
any of their kinsfolk, they would recognise one another by means
of these rings. So taking their leave they departed. And the Falcon
carried Fabiella, who was the eldest of the sisters, to the top of a
mountain, which was so high that, passing the confines of the
clouds, it reached with a dry head to a region where it never rains;
and there, leading her to a most beautiful palace, she lived like a
Queen.

The Stag carried Vasta, the second sister, into a wood, which was
so thick that the Shades, when summoned by the Night, could not
find their way out to escort her. There he placed her, as befitted
her rank, in a wonderfully splendid house with a garden.

The Dolphin swam with Rita, the third sister, on his back into the
middle of the sea, where, upon a large rock, he showed her a
mansion in which three crowned Kings might live.

Meanwhile Granzolla gave birth to a fine little boy, whom they
named Tittone. And when he was fifteen years old, hearing his
mother lamenting continually that she never heard any tidings of
her three daughters, who were married to three animals; he took it
into his head to travel through the world until he should obtain
some news of them. So after begging and entreating his father and
mother for a long time, they granted him permission, bidding him
take for his journey attendants and everything needful and befitting
a Prince; and the Queen also gave him another ring similar to
those she had given to her daughters.

Tittone went his way, and left no corner of Italy, not a nook of
France, nor any part of Spain unsearched. Then he passed through
England, and traversed Slavonia, and visited Poland, and, in short,
travelled both east and west. At length, leaving all his servants,
some at the taverns and some at the hospitals, he set out without a
farthing in his pocket, and came to the top of the mountain where
dwelt the Falcon and Fabiella. And as he stood there, beside
himself with amazement, contemplating the beauty of the 
palace--the corner-stones of which were of porphyry, the walls of
alabaster, the windows of gold, and the tiles of silver--his sister
observed him, and ordering him to be called, she demanded who
he was, whence he came, and what chance had brought him to that
country. When Tittone told her his country, his father and mother,
and his name, Fabiella knew him to be her brother, and the more
when she compared the ring upon his finger with that which her
mother had given her; and embracing him with great joy, she
concealed him, fearing that her husband would be angry when he
returned home.

As soon as the Falcon came home, Fabiella began to tell him that a
great longing had come over her to see her parents. And the Falcon
answered, "Let the wish pass, wife; for that cannot be unless the
humour takes me."

"Let us at least," said Fabiella, "send to fetch one of my kinsfolk to
keep my company."

"And, pray, who will come so far to see you?" replied the Falcon.

"Nay, but if any one should come," added Fabiella, "would you be
displeased?"

"Why should I be displeased?" said the Falcon, "it would be
enough that he were one of your kinsfolk to make me take him to
my heart."

When Fabiella heard this she took courage, and calling to her
brother to come forth, she presented him to the Falcon, who
exclaimed, "Five and five are ten; love passes through the glove,
and water through the boot. A hearty welcome to you! you are
master in this house; command, and do just as you like." Then he
gave orders that Tittone should be served and treated with the
same honour as himself.

Now when Tittone had stayed a fortnight on the mountain, it came
into his head to go forth and seek his other sisters. So taking leave
of Fabiella and his brother-in-law, the Falcon gave him one of his
feathers, saying, "Take this and prize it, my dear Tittone; for you
may one day be in trouble, and you will then esteem it a treasure.
Enough--take good care of it; and if ever you meet with any
mishap, throw it on the ground, and say,  Come hither, come
hither!' and you shall have cause to thank me."

Tittone wrapped the feather up in a sheet of paper, and, putting it
in his pocket, after a thousand ceremonies departed. And travelling
on and on a very long way, he arrived at last at the wood where the
Stag lived with Vasta; and going, half-dead with hunger, into the
garden to pluck some fruit, his sister saw him, and recognised him
in the same manner as Fabiella had done. Then she presented
Tittone to her husband, who received him with the greatest
friendship, and treated him truly like a Prince.

At the end of a fortnight, when Tittone wished to depart, and go in
search of his other sister, the Stag gave him one of his hairs,
repeating the same words as the Falcon had spoken about the
feather. And setting out on his way, with a bagful of 
crown-pieces which the Falcon had given him, and as many more
which the Stag gave him, he walked on and on, until he came to
the end of the earth, where, being stopped by the sea and unable to
walk any further, he took ship, intending to seek through all the
islands for tidings of his sister. So setting sail, he went about and
about, until at length he was carried to an island, where lived the
Dolphin with Rita. And no sooner had he landed, than his sister
saw and recognised him in the same manner as the others had
done, and he was received by her husband with all possible
affection.

Now after a while Tittone wished to set out again to go and visit
his father and mother, whom he had not seen for so long a time. So
the Dolphin gave him one of his scales, telling him the same as the
others had; and Tittone, mounting a horse, set out on his travels.
But he had hardly proceeded half a mile from the seashore, when
entering a wood--the abode of Fear and the Shades, where a
continual fair of darkness and terror was kept up--he found a great
tower in the middle of a lake, whose waters were kissing the feet
of the trees, and entreating them not to let the Sun witness their
pranks. At a window in the tower Tittone saw a most beautiful
maiden sitting at the feet of a hideous dragon, who was asleep.
When the damsel saw Tittone, she said in a low and piteous voice,
"O noble youth, sent perchance by heaven to comfort me in my
miseries in this place, where the face of a Christian is never seen,
release me from the power of this tyrannical serpent, who has
carried me off from my father, the King of Bright-Valley, and shut
me up in this frightful tower, where I must die a miserable death."

"Alas, my beauteous lady!" replied Tittone, "what can I do to serve
thee? Who can pass this lake? Who can climb this tower? Who can
approach yon horrid dragon, that carries terror in his look, sows
fear, and causes dismay to spring up? But softly, wait a minute,
and we'll find a way with another's help to drive this serpent
away. Step by step--the more haste, the worse speed: we shall soon
see whether  tis egg or wind." And so saying he threw the feather,
the hair, and the scale, which his brothers-in-law had given him,
on the ground, exclaiming, "Come hither, come hither!" And
falling on the earth like drops of summer rain, which makes the
frogs spring up, suddenly there appeared the Falcon, the Stag, and
the Dolphin, who cried out all together, "Behold us here! what are
your commands?"

When Tittone saw this, he said with great joy, "I wish for nothing
but to release this poor damsel from the claws of yon dragon, to
take her away from this tower, to lay it all in ruins, and to carry
this beautiful lady home with me as my wife."

"Hush!" answered the Falcon, "for the bean springs up where you
least expect it. We'll soon make him dance upon a sixpence, and
take good care that he shall have little ground enough."

"Let us lose no time," said the Stag, "troubles and macaroni are
swallowed hot."

So the Falcon summoned a large flock of griffins, who, flying to
the window of the tower, carried off the damsel, bearing her over
the lake to where Tittone was standing with his three 
brothers-in-law; and if from afar she appeared a moon, believe me,
when near she looked truly like a sun, she was so beautiful.

Whilst Tittone was embracing her and telling her how he loved
her, the dragon awoke; and, rushing out of the window, he came
swimming across the lake to devour Tittone. But the Stag instantly
called up a squadron of lions, tigers, panthers, bears, and 
wild-cats, who, falling upon the dragon, tore him in pieces with
their claws. Then Tittone wishing to depart, the Dolphin said, "I
likewise desire to do something to serve you." And in order that no
trace should remain of the frightful and accursed place, he made
the sea rise so high that, overflowing its bounds, it attacked the
tower furiously, and overthrew it to its foundations.

When Tittone saw these things, he thanked the animals in the best
manner he could, telling the damsel at the same time that she
ought to do so too, as it was by their aid she had escaped from
peril. But the animals answered, "Nay, we ought rather to thank
this beauteous lady, since she is the means of restoring us to our
proper shapes; for a spell was laid upon us at our birth, caused by
our mother's having offended a fairy, and we were compelled to
remain in the form of animals until we should have freed the
daughter of a King from some great trouble. And now behold the
time is arrived which we have longed for; the fruit is ripe, and we
already feel new spirit in our breasts, new blood in our veins." So
saying, they were changed into three handsome youths, and one
after another they embraced their brother-in-law, and shook hands
with the lady, who was in an ecstasy of joy.

When Tittone saw this, he was on the point of fainting away; and
heaving a deep sigh, he said, "O Heavens! why have not my
mother and father a share in this happiness? They would be out of
their wits with joy were they to see such graceful and handsome
sons-in-law before their eyes."

"Nay," answered the Princes, " tis not yet night; the shame at
seeing ourselves so transformed obliged us to flee from the sight of
men; but now that, thank Heaven! we can appear in the world
again, we will all go and live with our wives under one roof, and
spend our lives merrily. Let us, therefore, set out instantly, and
before the Sun to-morrow morning unpacks the bales of his rays at
the custom-house of the East, our wives shall be with you."

So saying, in order that they might not have to go on foot--for there
was only an old broken-down mare which Tittone had 
brought--the brothers caused a most beautiful coach to appear,
drawn by six lions, in which they all five seated themselves; and
having travelled the whole day, they came in the evening to a
tavern, where, whilst the supper was being prepared, they passed
the time in reading all the proofs of men's ignorance which were
scribbled upon the walls. At length, when all had eaten their fill
and retired to rest, the three youths, feigning to go to bed, went out
and walked about the whole night long, till in the morning, when
the Stars, like bashful maidens, retire from the gaze of the Sun,
they found themselves in the same inn with their wives,
whereupon there was a great embracing, and a joy beyond the
beyonds. Then they all eight seated themselves in the same coach,
and after a long journey arrived at Green-Bank, where they were
received with incredible affection by the King and Queen, who had
not only regained the capital of four children, whom they had
considered lost, but likewise the interest of three sons-in-law and a
daughter-in-law, who were verily four columns of the Temple of
Beauty. And when the news of the adventures of their children was
brought to the Kings of Fair-Meadow and Bright-Valley, they both
came to the feasts which were made, adding the rich ingredient of
joy to the porridge of their satisfaction, and receiving a full
recompense for all their past misfortunes; for--

     "One hour of joy dispels the cares
     And sufferings of a thousand years."



XXII

THE DRAGON

He who seeks the injury of another finds his own hurt; and he who
spreads the snares of treachery and deceit often falls into them
himself; as you shall hear in the story of a queen, who with her
own hands constructed the trap in which she was caught by the
foot.

There was one time a King of High-Shore, who practised such
tyranny and cruelty that, whilst he was once gone on a visit of
pleasure to a castle at a distance from the city, his royal seat was
usurped by a certain sorceress. Whereupon, having consulted a
wooden statue which used to give oracular responses, it answered
that he would recover his dominions when the sorceress should
lose her sight. But seeing that the sorceress, besides being well
guarded, knew at a glance the people whom he sent to annoy her,
and did dog's justice upon them, he became quite desperate, and
out of spite to her he killed all the women of that place whom he
could get into his hands.

Now after hundreds and hundreds had been led thither by their 
ill-luck, only to lose their lives, there chanced, among others, to
come a maiden named Porziella, the most beautiful creature that
could be seen on the whole earth, and the King could not help
falling in love with her and making her his wife. But he was so
cruel and spiteful to women that, after a while, he was going to kill
her like the rest; but just as he was raising the dagger a bird let fall
a certain root upon his arm, and he was seized with such a
trembling that the weapon fell from his hand. This bird was a fairy,
who, a few days before, having gone to sleep in a wood, where
beneath the tent of the Shades Fear kept watch and defied the
Sun's heat, a certain satyr was about to rob her when she was
awakened by Porziella, and for this kindness she continually
followed her steps in order to make her a return.

When the King saw this, he thought that the beauty of Porziella's
face had arrested his arm and bewitched the dagger to prevent its
piercing her as it had done so many others. He resolved, therefore,
not to make the attempt a second time, but that she should die built
up in a garret of his palace. No sooner said than done: the unhappy
creature was enclosed within four walls, without having anything
to eat or drink, and left to waste away and die little by little.

The bird, seeing her in this wretched state, consoled her with kind
words, bidding her be of good cheer, and promising, in return for
the great kindness she had done for her, to aid her if necessary
with her very life. In spite, however, of all the entreaties of
Porziella, the bird would never tell her who she was, but only said
that she was under obligations to her, and would leave nothing
undone to serve her. And seeing that the poor girl was famished
with hunger, she flew out and speedily returned with a pointed
knife which she had taken from the king's pantry, and told her to
make a hole in the corner of the floor just over the kitchen,
through which she would regularly bring her food to sustain her
life. So Porziella bored away until she had made a passage for the
bird, who, watching till the cook was gone out to fetch a pitcher of
water from the well, went down through the hole, and taking a fine
fowl that was cooking at the fire, brought it to Porziella; then to
relieve her thirst, not knowing how to carry her any drink, she flew
to the pantry, where there was a quantity of grapes hanging, and
brought her a fine bunch; and this she did regularly for many days.

Meanwhile Porziella gave birth to a fine little boy, whom she
suckled and reared with the constant aid of the bird. And when he
was grown big, the fairy advised his mother to make the hole
larger, and to raise so many boards of the floor as would allow
Miuccio (for so the child was called) to pass through; and then,
after letting him down with some cords which the bird brought, to
put the boards back into their place, that it might not be seen
where he came from. So Porziella did as the bird directed her; and
as soon as the cook was gone out, she let down her son, desiring
him never to tell whence he came nor whose son he was.

When the cook returned and saw such a fine little boy, he asked
him who he was, whence he came, and what he wanted;
whereupon, the child, remembering his mother's advice, said that
he was a poor forlorn boy who was looking about for a master. As
they were talking, the butler came in, and seeing the spritely little
fellow, he thought he would make a pretty page for the King. So he
led him to the royal apartments; and when the King saw him look
so handsome and lovely that he appeared a very jewel, he was
vastly pleased with him, and took him into his service as a page
and to his heart as a son, and had him taught all the exercises
befitting a cavalier, so that Miuccio grew up the most
accomplished one in the court, and the King loved him much
better than his stepson. Now the King's stepmother, who was
really the queen, on this account began to take a dislike to him,
and to hold him in aversion; and her envy and malice gained
ground just in proportion as the favours and kindness which the
King bestowed on Miuccio cleared the way for them; so she
resolved to soap the ladder of his fortune in order that he should
tumble down from top to bottom.

Accordingly one evening, when the King and his stepmother had
tuned their instruments together and were making music of their
discourse, the Queen told the King that Miuccio had boasted he
would build three castles in the air. So the next morning, at the
time when the Moon, the school-mistress of the Shades, gives a
holiday to her scholars for the festival of the Sun, the King, either
from surprise or to gratify the old Queen, ordered Miuccio to be
called, and commanded him forthwith to build the three castles in
the air as he had promised, or else he would make him dance a jig
in the air.

When Miuccio heard this he went to his chamber and began to
lament bitterly, seeing what glass the favour of princes is, and how
short a time it lasts. And while he was weeping thus, lo! the bird
came, and said to him, "Take heart, Miuccio, and fear not while
you have me by your side, for I am able to draw you out of the
fire." Then she directed him to take pasteboard and glue and make
three large castles; and calling up three large griffins, she tied a
castle to each, and away they flew up into the air. Thereupon
Miuccio called the King, who came running with all his court to
see the sight; and when he saw the ingenuity of Miuccio he had a
still greater affection for him, and lavished on him caresses of the
other world, which added snow to the envy of the Queen and fire
to her rage, seeing that all her plans failed; insomuch that, both
sleeping and waking, she was for ever thinking of some way to
remove this thorn from her eyes. So at last, after some days, she
said to the King, "Son, the time is now come for us to return to our
former greatness and the pleasures of past times, since Miuccio
has offered to blind the sorceress, and by the disbursement of her
eyes to make you recover your lost kingdom."

The King, who felt himself touched in the sore place, called for
Miuccio that very instant, and said to him, "I am greatly surprised
that, notwithstanding all my love for you, and that you have the
power to restore me to the seat from which I have fallen, you
remain thus careless, instead of endeavouring to relieve me from
the misery I am in--reduced thus from a kingdom to a wood, from
a city to a paltry castle, and from commanding so great a people to
be hardly waited on by a parcel of half-starved menials. If,
therefore, you do not wish me ill, run now at once and blind the
eyes of the fairy who has possession of my property, for by putting
out her lanterns you will light the lamps of my honour that are now
dark and dismal."

When Miuccio heard this proposal he was about to reply that the
King was ill-informed and had mistaken him, as he was neither a
raven to pick out eyes nor an auger to bore holes; but the King
said, "No more words--so I will have it, so let it be done!
Remember now, that in the mint of this brain of mine I have the
balance ready; in one scale the reward, if you do what I tell you; in
the other the punishment, if you neglect doing what I command."

Miuccio, who could not butt against a rock, and had to do with a
man who was not to be moved, went into a corner to bemoan
himself; and the bird came to him and said, "Is it possible,
Miuccio, that you will always be drowning yourself in a tumbler of
water? If I were dead indeed you could not make more fuss. Do
you not know that I have more regard for your life than for my
own? Therefore don't lose courage; come with me, and you shall
see what I can do." So saying off she flew, and alighted in the
wood, where as soon as she began to chirp, there came a large
flock of birds about her, to whom she told the story, assuring them
that whoever would venture to deprive the sorceress of sight
should have from her a safeguard against the talons of the hawks
and kites, and a letter of protection against the guns, crossbows,
longbows, and bird-lime of the fowlers.

There was among them a swallow who had made her nest against a
beam of the royal palace, and who hated the sorceress, because,
when making her accursed conjurations, she had several times
driven her out of the chamber with her fumigations; for which
reason, partly out of a desire of revenge, and partly to gain the
reward that the bird promised, she offered herself to perform the
service. So away she flew like lightning to the city, and entering
the palace, found the fairy lying on a couch, with two damsels
fanning her. Then the swallow came, and alighting directly over
the fairy, pecked out her eyes. Whereupon the fairy, thus seeing
night at midday, knew that by this closing of the custom-house the
merchandise of the kingdom was all lost; and uttering yells, as of a
condemned soul, she abandoned the sceptre and went off to hide
herself in a certain cave, where she knocked her head continually
against the wall, until at length she ended her days.

When the sorceress was gone, the councillors sent ambassadors to
the King, praying him to come back to his castle, since the
blinding of the sorceress had caused him to see this happy day.
And at the same time they arrived came also Miuccio, who, by the
bird's direction, said to the King, "I have served you to the best of
my power; the sorceress is blinded, the kingdom is yours.
Wherefore, if I deserve recompense for this service, I wish for no
other than to be left to my ill-fortune, without being again exposed
to these dangers."

But the King, embracing him with great affection, bade him put on
his cap and sit beside him; and how the Queen was enraged at this,
Heaven knows, for by the bow of many colours that appeared in
her face might be known the wind of the storm that was brewing in
her heart against poor Miuccio.

Not far from this castle lived a most ferocious dragon, who was
born the same hour with the Queen; and the astrologers being
called by her father to astrologise on this event, said that his
daughter would be safe as long as the dragon was safe, and that
when one died, the other would of necessity die also. One thing
alone could bring back the Queen to life, and that was to anoint
her temples, chest, nostrils, and pulse with the blood of the same
dragon.

Now the Queen, knowing the strength and fury of this animal,
resolved to send Miuccio into his claws, well assured that the beast
would make but a mouthful of him, and that he would be like a
strawberry in the throat of a bear. So turning to the King, she said,
"Upon my word, this Miuccio is the treasure of your house, and
you would be ungrateful indeed if you did not love him, especially
as he had expressed his desire to kill the dragon, who, though he is
my brother, is nevertheless your enemy; and I care more for a hair
of your head than for a hundred brothers."

The King, who hated the dragon mortally, and knew not how to
remove him out of his sight, instantly called Miuccio, and said to
him, "I know that you can put your hand to whatever you will;
therefore, as you have done so much, grant me yet another
pleasure, and then turn me whithersoever you will. Go this very
instant and kill the dragon; for you will do me a singular service,
and I will reward you well for it."

Miuccio at these words was near losing his senses, and as soon as
he was able to speak, he said to the King, "Alas, what a headache
have you given me by your continual teasing! Is my life a black
goat-skin rug that you are for ever wearing it away thus? This is
not a pared pear ready to drop into one's mouth, but a dragon, that
tears with his claws, breaks to pieces with his head, crushes with
his tail, crunches with his teeth, poisons with his eyes, and kills
with his breath. Wherefore do you want to send me to death? Is
this the sinecure you give me for having given you a kingdom?
Who is the wicked soul that has set this die on the table? What son
of perdition has taught you these capers and put these words into
your mouth?" Then the King, who, although he let himself be
tossed to and fro as light as a ball, was firmer than a rock in
keeping to what he had once said, stamped with his feet, and
exclaimed, "After all you have done, do you fail at the last? But no
more words; go, rid my kingdom of this plague, unless you would
have me rid you of life."

Poor Miuccio, who thus received one minute a favour, at another a
threat, now a pat on the face, and now a kick, now a kind word,
now a cruel one, reflected how mutable court fortune is, and would
fain have been without the acquaintance of the King. But knowing
that to reply to great men is a folly, and like plucking a lion by the
beard, he withdrew, cursing his fate, which had led him to the
court only to curtail the days of his life. And as he was sitting on
one of the door-steps, with his head between his knees, washing
his shoes with his tears and warming the ground with his sighs,
behold the bird came flying with a plant in her beak, and throwing
it to him, said, "Get up, Miuccio, and take courage! for you are not
going to play at  unload the ass' with your days, but at
backgammon with the life of the dragon. Take this plant, and when
you come to the cave of that horrid animal, throw it in, and
instantly such a drowsiness will come over him that he will fall
fast asleep; whereupon, nicking and sticking him with a good
knife, you may soon make an end of him. Then come away, for
things will turn out better than you think."

"Enough!" cried Miuccio, "I know what I carry under my belt; we
have more time than money, and he who has time has life." So
saying, he got up, and sticking a pruning-knife in his belt and
taking the plant, he went his way to the dragon's cave, which was
under a mountain of such goodly growth, that the three mountains
that were steps to the Giants would not have reached up to its
waist. When he came there, he threw the plant into the cave, and
instantly a deep sleep laid hold on the dragon, and Miuccio began
to cut him in pieces.

Now just at the time that he was busied thus, the Queen felt a
cutting pain at her heart; and seeing herself brought to a bad pass,
she perceived her error in having purchased death with ready
money. So she called her stepson and told him what the astrologers
had predicted--how her life depended on that of the dragon, and
how she feared that Miuccio had killed him, for she felt herself
gradually sliding away. Then the King replied, "If you knew that
the life of the dragon was the prop of your life and the root of your
days, why did you make me send Miuccio? Who is in fault? You
must have done yourself the mischief, and you must suffer for it;
you have broken the glass, and you may pay the cost." And the
Queen answered, "I never thought that such a stripling could have
the skill and strength to overthrow an animal which made nothing
of an army, and I expected that he would have left his rags there.
But since I reckoned without my host, and the bark of my projects
is gone out of its course, do me one kindness if you love me. When
I am dead, take a sponge dipped in the blood of this dragon and
anoint with it all the extremities of my body before you bury me."

"That is but a small thing for the love I bear you," replied the
King; "and if the blood of the dragon is not enough, I will add my
own to give you satisfaction." The Queen was about to thank him,
but the breath left her with the speech; for just then Miuccio had
made an end of scoring the dragon.

No sooner had Miuccio come into the King's presence with the
news of what he had done than the King ordered him to go back
for the dragon's blood; but being curious to see the deed done by
Miuccio's hand, he followed him. And as Miuccio was going out
of the palace gate, the bird met him, and said, "Whither are you
going?" and Miuccio answered, "I am going whither the King
sends me; he makes me fly backwards and forwards like a shuttle,
and never lets me rest an hour." "What to do?" said the bird. "To
fetch the blood of the dragon," said Miuccio. And the bird replied,
"Ah, wretched youth! this dragon's blood will be bull's blood to
you, and make you burst; for this blood will cause to spring up
again the evil seed of all your misfortunes. The Queen is
continually exposing you to new dangers that you may lose your
life; and the King, who lets this odious creature put the 
pack-saddle on him, orders you, like a castaway, to endanger your
person, which is his own flesh and blood and a shoot of his stem.
But the wretched man does not know you, though the inborn
affection he bears you should have betrayed your kindred.
Moreover, the services you have rendered the King, and the gain to
himself of so handsome a son and heir, ought to obtain favour for
unhappy Porziella, your mother, who has now for fourteen years
been buried alive in a garret, where is seen a temple of beauty built
up within a little chamber."

While the fairy was thus speaking, the King, who had heard every
word, stepped forward to learn the truth of the matter better; and
finding that Miuccio was his own and Porziella's son, and that
Porziella was still alive in the garret, he instantly gave orders that
she should be set free and brought before him. And when he saw
her looking more beautiful than ever, owing to the care taken of
her by the bird, he embraced her with the greatest affection, and
was never satisfied with pressing to his heart first the mother and
then the son, praying forgiveness of Porziella for his 
ill-treatment of her, and of his son for all the dangers to which he
had exposed him. Then he ordered her to be clothed in the richest
robes, and had her crowned Queen before all the people. And
when the King heard that her preservation, and the escape of his
son from so many dangers were entirely owing to the bird, which
had given food to the one and counsel to the other, he offered her
his kingdom and his life. But the bird said she desired no other
reward for her services than to have Miuccio for a husband; and as
she uttered the words she was changed into a beautiful maiden,
and, to the great joy and satisfaction of the King and Porziella, she
was given to Miuccio to wife. Then the newly-married couple, to
give still greater festivals, went their way to their own kingdom,
where they were anxiously expected, every one ascribing this good
fortune to the fairy, for the kindness that Porziella had done her;
for at the end of the end--

     "A good deed is never lost."



XXIII

THE TWO CAKES

I have always heard say, that he who gives pleasure finds it: the
bell of Manfredonia says, "Give me, I give thee": he who does not
bait the hook of the affections with courtesy never catches the fish
of kindness; and if you wish to hear the proof of this, listen to my
story, and then say whether the covetous man does not always lose
more than the liberal one.

There were once two sisters, named Luceta and Troccola, who had
two daughters, Marziella and Puccia. Marziella was as fair to look
upon as she was good at heart; whilst, on the contrary, Puccia by
the same rule had a face of ugliness and a heart of pestilence, but
the girl resembled her parent, for Troccola was a harpy within and
a very scare-crow without.

Now it happened that Luceta had occasion to boil some parsnips,
in order to fry them with green sauce; so she said to her daughter,
"Marziella, my dear, go to the well and fetch me a pitcher of
water."

"With all my heart, mother," replied the girl, "but if you love me
give me a cake, for I should like to eat it with a draught of the
fresh water."

"By all means," said the mother; so she took from a basket that
hung upon a hook a beautiful cake (for she had baked a batch the
day before), and gave it to Marziella, who set the pitcher on a pad
upon her head, and went to the fountain, which like a charlatan
upon a marble bench, to the music of the falling water, was selling
secrets to drive away thirst. And as she was stooping down to fill
her pitcher, up came a hump-backed old woman, and seeing the
beautiful cake, which Marziella was just going to bite, she said to
her, "My pretty girl, give me a little piece of your cake, and may
Heaven send you good fortune!"

Marziella, who was as generous as a queen, replied, "Take it all,
my good woman, and I am only sorry that it is not made of sugar
and almonds, for I would equally give it you with all my heart."

The old woman, seeing Marziella's kindness, said to her, "Go, and
may Heaven reward you for the goodness you have shown me! and
I pray all the stars that you may ever be content and happy; that
when you breathe roses and jessamines may fall from your mouth;
that when you comb your locks pearls and garnets may fall from
them, and when you set your foot on the ground lilies and violets
may spring up."

Marziella thanked the old woman, and went her way home, where
her mother, having cooked a bit of supper, they paid the natural
debt to the body, and thus ended the day. And the next morning,
when the Sun displayed in the market-place of the celestial fields
the merchandise of light which he had brought from the East, as
Marziella was combing her hair, she saw a shower of pearls and
garnets fall from it into her lap; whereupon calling her mother
with great joy, they put them all into a basket, and Luceta went to
sell a great part of them to a usurer, who was a friend of hers.
Meanwhile Troccola came to see her sister, and finding Marziella
in great delight and busied with the pearls, she asked her how,
when, and where she had gotten them. But the maiden, who did
not understand the ways of the world, and had perhaps never heard
the proverb, "Do not all you are able, eat not all you wish, spend
not all you have, and tell not all you know," related the whole
affair to her aunt, who no longer cared to await her sister's return,
for every hour seemed to her a thousand years until she got home
again. Then giving a cake to her daughter, she sent her for water to
the fountain, where Puccia found the same old woman. And when
the old woman asked her for a little piece of cake she answered
gruffly, "Have I nothing to do, forsooth, but to give you cake? Do
you take me to be so foolish as to give you what belongs to me?
Look ye, charity begins at home." And so saying she swallowed
the cake in four pieces, making the old woman's mouth water,
who when she saw the last morsel disappear and her hopes buried
with the cake, exclaimed in a rage, "Begone! and whenever you
breathe may you foam at the mouth like a doctor's mule, may
toads drop from your lips, and every time you set foot to the
ground may there spring up ferns and thistles!"

Puccia took the pitcher of water and returned home, where her
mother was all impatience to hear what had befallen her at the
fountain. But no sooner did Puccia open her lips, than a shower of
toads fell from them, at the sight of which her mother added the
fire of rage to the snow of envy, sending forth flame and smoke
through nose and mouth.

Now it happened some time afterwards that Ciommo, the brother
of Marziella, was at the court of the King of Chiunzo; and the
conversation turning on the beauty of various women, he stepped
forward, unasked, and said that all the handsome women might
hide their heads when his sister made her appearance, who beside
the beauty of her form, which made harmony on the song of a
noble soul, possessed also a wonderful virtue in her hair, mouth,
and feet, which was given to her by a fairy. When the King heard
these praises he told Ciommo to bring his sister to the court;
adding that, if he found her such as he had represented, he would
take her to wife.

Now Ciommo thought this a chance not to be lost; so he forthwith
sent a messenger post-haste to his mother, telling her what had
happened, and begging her to come instantly with her daughter, in
order not to let slip the good luck. But Luceta, who was very
unwell, commending the lamb to the wolf, begged her sister to
have the kindness to accompany Marziella to the court of Chiunzo
for such and such a thing. Whereupon Troccola, who saw that
matters were playing into her hand, promised her sister to take
Marziella safe and sound to her brother, and then embarked with
her niece and Puccia in a boat. But when they were some way out
at sea, whilst the sailors were asleep, she threw Marziella into the
water; and just as the poor girl was on the point of being drowned
there came a most beautiful syren, who took her in her arms and
carried her off.

When Troccola arrived at Chiunzo, Ciommo, who had not seen his
sister for so long a time, mistook Puccia, and received her as if she
were Marziella, and led her instantly to the King. But no sooner
did she open her lips than toads dropped on the ground; and when
the King looked at her more closely he saw, that as she breathed
hard from the fatigue of the journey, she made a lather at her
mouth, which looked just like a washtub; then looking down on
the ground, he saw a meadow of stinking plants, the sight of which
made him quite ill. Upon this he drove Puccia and her mother
away, and sent Ciommo in disgrace to keep the geese of the court.

Then Ciommo, in despair and not knowing what had happened to
him, drove the geese into the fields, and letting them go their way
along the seashore, he used to retire into a little straw shed, where
he bewailed his lot until evening, when it was time to return home.
But whilst the geese were running about on the shore, Marziella
would come out of the water, and feed them with sweetmeats, and
give them rose-water to drink; so that the geese grew as big as
sheep, and were so fat that they could not see out of their eyes.
And in the evening when they came into a little garden under the
King's window, they began to sing--

     "Pire, pire pire!
     The sun and the moon are bright and clear,
     But she who feeds us is still more fair."

Now the King, hearing this goose-music every evening, ordered
Ciommo to be called, and asked him where, and how, and upon
what he fed his geese. And Ciommo replied, "I give them nothing
to eat but the fresh grass of the field." But the King, who was not
satisfied with this answer, sent a trusty servant after Ciommo to
watch and observe where he drove the geese. Then the man
followed in his footsteps, and saw him go into the little straw shed,
leaving the geese to themselves; and going their way they had no
sooner come to the shore than Marziella rose up out of the sea; and
I do not believe that even the mother of that blind boy who, as the
poet says, "desires no other alms than tears," ever rose from the
waves so fair. When the servant of the King saw this, he ran back
to his master, beside himself with amazement, and told him the
pretty spectacle he had seen upon the seashore.

The curiosity of the King was increased by what the man told him,
and he had a great desire to go himself and see the beautiful sight.
So the next morning, when the Cock, the ringleader of the birds,
excited them all to arm mankind against the Night, and Ciommo
went with the geese to the accustomed spot, the King followed him
closely; and when the geese came to the seashore, without
Ciommo, who remained as usual in the little shed, the King saw
Marziella rise out of the water. And after giving the geese a trayful
of sweetmeats to eat and a cupful of rose-water to drink, she seated
herself on a rock and began to comb her locks, from which fell
handfuls of pearls and garnets; at the same time a cloud of flowers
dropped from her mouth, and under her feet was a Syrian carpet of
lilies and violets.

When the King saw this sight, he ordered Ciommo to be called,
and, pointing to Marziella, asked him whether he knew that
beautiful maiden. Then Ciommo, recognising his sister, ran to
embrace her, and in the presence of the King heard from her all the
treacherous conduct of Troccola, and how the envy of that wicked
creature had brought that fair fire of love to dwell in the waters of
the sea.

The joy of the King is not to be told at the acquisition of so fair a
jewel; and turning to the brother he said that he had good reason to
praise Marziella so much, and indeed that he found her three times
more beautiful than he had described her; he deemed her,
therefore, more than worthy to be his wife if she would be content
to receive the sceptre of his kingdom.

"Alas, would to Heaven it could be so!" answered Marziella, "and
that I could serve you as the slave of your crown! But see you not
this golden chain upon my foot, by which the sorceress holds me
prisoner? When I take too much fresh air, and tarry too long on the
shore, she draws me into the waves, and thus keeps me held in rich
slavery by a golden chain."

"What way is there," said the King, "to free you from the claws of
this syren?"

"The way," replied Marziella, "would be to cut this chain with a
smooth file, and to loose me from it."

"Wait till to-morrow morning," answered the King; "I will then
come with all that is needful, and take you home with me, where
you shall be the pupil of my eye, the core of my heart, and the life
of my soul." And then exchanging a shake of the hands as the
earnest-money of their love, she went back into the water and he
into the fire--and into such a fire indeed that he had not an hour's
rest the whole day long. And when the black old hag of the Night
came forth to have a country-dance with the Stars, he never closed
an eye, but lay ruminating in his memory over the beauties of
Marziella, discoursing in thought of the marvels of her hair, the
miracles of her mouth, and the wonders of her feet; and applying
the gold of her graces to the touchstone of judgment, he found that
it was four-and-twenty carats fine. But he upbraided the Night for
not leaving off her embroidery of the Stars, and chided the Sun for
not arriving with the chariot of light to enrich his house with the
treasure he longed for--a mine of gold which produced pearls, a
pearl-shell from which sprang flowers.

But whilst he was thus at sea, thinking of her who was all the
while in the sea, behold the pioneers of the Sun appeared, who
smooth the road along which he has to pass with the army of his
rays. Then the King dressed himself, and went with Ciommo to the
seashore, where he found Marziella; and the King with his own
hand cut the chain from the foot of the beloved object with the file
which they had brought, but all the while he forged a still stronger
one for his heart; and setting her on the saddle behind him, she
who was already fixed on the saddle of his heart, he set out for the
royal palace, where by his command all the handsome ladies of the
land were assembled, who received Marziella as their mistress
with all due honour. Then the King married her, and there were
great festivities; and among all the casks which were burnt for the
illuminations, the King ordered that Troccola should be shut up in
a tub, and made to suffer for the treachery she had shown to
Marziella. Then sending for Luceta, he gave her and Ciommo
enough to live upon like princes; whilst Puccia, driven out of the
kingdom, wandered about as a beggar; and, as the reward of her
not having sown a little bit of cake, she had now to suffer a
constant want of bread; for it is the will of Heaven 
that--

     "He who shows no pity finds none."



XXIV 

THE SEVEN DOVES

He who gives pleasure meets with it: kindness is the bond of
friendship and the hook of love: he who sows not reaps not; of
which truth Ciulla has given you the foretaste of example, and I
will give you the dessert, if you will bear in mind what Cato says,
"Speak little at table." Therefore have the kindness to lend me
your ears awhile; and may Heaven cause them to stretch
continually, to listen to pleasant and amusing things.

There was once in the county of Arzano a good woman who every
year gave birth to a son, until at length there were seven of them,
who looked like the pipes of the god Pan, with seven reeds, one
larger than another. And when they had changed their first teeth,
they said to Jannetella their mother, "Hark ye, mother, if, after so
many sons, you do not this time have a daughter, we are resolved
to leave home, and go wandering through the world like the sons
of the blackbirds."

When their mother heard this sad announcement, she prayed
Heaven to remove such an intention from her sons, and prevent her
losing seven such jewels as they were. And when the hour of the
birth was at hand, the sons said to Jannetella, "We will retire to the
top of yonder hill or rock opposite; if you give birth to a son, put
an inkstand and a pen up at the window; but if you have a little
girl, put up a spoon and a distaff. For if we see the signal of a
daughter, we shall return home and spend the rest of our lives
under your wings; but if we see the signal of a son, then forget us,
for you may know that we have taken ourselves off."

Soon after the sons had departed it pleased Heaven that Jannetella
should bring forth a pretty little daughter; then she told the nurse to
make the signal to the brothers, but the woman was so stupid and
confused that she put up the inkstand and the pen. As soon as the
seven brothers saw this signal, they set off, and walked on and on,
until at the end of three years they came to a wood, where the trees
were performing the sword-dance to the sound of a river which
made music upon the stones. In this wood was the house of an ogre
whose eyes having been blinded whilst asleep by a woman, he was
such an enemy to the sex that he devoured all whom he could
catch.

When the youths arrived at the ogre's house, tired out with
walking and exhausted with hunger, they begged him for pity's
sake to give them a morsel of bread. And the ogre replied that if
they would serve him he would give them food, and they would
have nothing else to do but to watch over him like a dog, each in
turn for a day. The youths, upon hearing this, thought they had
found father and mother; so they consented, and remained in the
service of the ogre, who, having gotten their names by heart, called
once for Giangrazio, at another time for Cecchitiello, now for
Pascale, now Nuccio, now Pone, now Pezzillo, and now
Carcavecchia, for so the brothers were named; and giving them a
room in the lower part of the house, he allowed them enough to
live upon.

Meanwhile their sister had grown up; and hearing that her seven
brothers, owing to the stupidity of the nurse, had set out to walk
through the world, and that no tidings of them had ever been
received, she took it into her head to go in search of them. And she
begged and prayed her mother so long, that at last, overcome by
her entreaties, she gave her leave to go, and dressed her like a
pilgrim. Then the maiden walked and walked, asking at every
place she came to whether any one had seen seven brothers. And
thus she journeyed on, until at length she got news of them at an
inn, where having enquired the way to the wood, one morning, at
the hour when the Sun with the penknife of his rays scratches out
the inkspots made by Night upon the sheet of Heaven, she arrived
at the ogre's house, where she was recognised by her brothers with
great joy, who cursed the inkstand and the pen for writing falsely
such misfortune for them. Then giving her a thousand caresses,
they told her to remain quiet in their chamber, that the ogre might
not see her; bidding her at the same time give a portion of
whatever she had to eat to a cat which was in the room, or
otherwise she would do her some harm. Cianna (for so the sister
was named) wrote down this advice in the pocket-book of her
heart, and shared everything with the cat, like a good companion,
always cutting justly, and saying, "This for me--this for thee,
--this for the daughter of the king," giving the cat a share to the last
morsel.

Now it happened one day that the brothers, going to hunt for the
ogre, left Cianna a little basket of chick-peas to cook; and as she
was picking them, by ill-luck she found among them a 
hazel-nut, which was the stone of disturbance to her quiet; for
having swallowed it without giving half to the cat, the latter out of
spite jumped on the table and blew out the candle. Cianna seeing
this, and not knowing what to do, left the room, contrary to the
command of her brothers, and going into the ogre's chamber
begged him for a little light. Then the ogre, hearing a woman's
voice, said, "Welcome, madam! wait awhile,--you have found
what you are seeking." And so saying he took a Genoa stone, and
daubing it with oil he fell to whetting his tusks. But Cianna, who
saw the cart on a wrong track, seizing a lighted stick ran to her
chamber; and bolting the door inside, she placed against it bars,
stools, bedsteads, tables, stones, and everything there was in the
room.

As soon as the ogre had put an edge on his teeth he ran to the
chamber of the brothers, and finding the door fastened, he fell to
kicking it to break it open. At this noise and disturbance the seven
brothers at once came home, and hearing themselves accused by
the ogre of treachery for making their chamber a refuge for one of
his women enemies, Giangrazio, who was the eldest and had more
sense than the others, and saw matters going badly, said to the
ogre, "We know nothing of this affair, and it may be that this
wicked woman has perchance come into the room whilst we were
at the chase; but as she has fortified herself inside, come with me
and I will take you to a place where we can seize her without her
being able to defend herself."

Then they took the ogre by the hand, and led him to a deep, deep
pit, where, giving him a push, they sent him headlong to the
bottom; and taking a shovel, which they found on the ground, they
covered him with earth. Then they bade their sister unfasten the
door, and they rated her soundly for the fault she had committed,
and the danger in which she had placed herself; telling her to be
more careful in future, and to beware of plucking grass upon the
spot where the ogre was buried, or they would be turned into seven
doves.

"Heaven keep me from bringing such a misfortune upon you!"
replied Cianna. So taking possession of all the ogre's goods and
chattels, and making themselves masters of the whole house, they
lived there merrily enough, waiting until winter should pass away,
and the Sun, on taking possession of the house of the Bull, give a
present to the Earth of a green gown embroidered with flowers,
when they might set out on their journey home.

Now it happened one day, when the brothers were gone to the
mountains to get firewood to defend themselves against the cold,
which increased from day to day, that a poor pilgrim came to the
ogre's wood, and made faces at an ape that was perched up in a
pine-tree; whereupon the ape threw down one of the fir-apples
from the tree upon the man's pate, which made such a terrible
bump that the poor fellow set up a loud cry. Cianna hearing the
noise went out, and taking pity on his disaster, she quickly plucked
a sprig of rosemary from a tuft which grew upon the ogre's grave;
then she made him a plaster of it with boiled bread and salt, and
after giving the man some breakfast she sent him away.

Whilst Cianna was laying the cloth, and expecting her brothers, lo!
she saw seven doves come flying, who said to her, "Ah! better that
your hand had been cut off, you cause of all our misfortune, ere it
plucked that accursed rosemary and brought such a calamity upon
us! Have you eaten the brains of a cat, O sister, that you have
driven our advice from your mind? Behold us, turned to birds, a
prey to the talons of kites, hawks, and falcons! Behold us made
companions of water-hens, snipes, goldfinches, woodpeckers, jays,
owls, magpies, jackdaws, rooks, starlings, woodcocks, cocks, hens
and chickens, turkey-cocks, blackbirds, thrushes, chaffinches,
tomtits, jenny-wrens, lapwings, linnets, greenfinches, crossbills,
flycatchers, larks, plovers, kingfishers, wagtails, redbreasts,
redfinches, sparrows, ducks, fieldfares, woodpigeons and
bullfinches! A rare thing you have done! And now we may return
to our country to find nets laid and twigs limed for us! To heal the
head of a pilgrim, you have broken the heads of seven brothers;
nor is there any help for our misfortune, unless you find the
Mother of Time, who will tell you the way to get us out of
trouble."

Cianna, looking like a plucked quail at the fault she had
committed, begged pardon of her brothers, and offered to go round
the world until she should find the dwelling of the old woman.
Then praying them not to stir from the house until she returned,
lest any ill should betide them, she set out, and journeyed on and
on without ever tiring; and though she went on foot, her desire to
aid her brothers served her as a sumpter-mule, with which she
made three miles an hour. At last she came to the seashore, where
with the blows of the waves the sea was banging the rocks which
would not repeat the Latin it gave them to do. Here she saw a huge
whale, who said to her, "My pretty maiden, what go you seeking?"
And she replied, "I am seeking the dwelling of the Mother of
Time." "Hear then what you must do," replied the whale; "go
straight along this shore, and on coming to the first river, follow it
up to its source, and you will meet with some one who will show
you the way: but do me one kindness,--when you find the good old
woman, beg of her the favour to tell me some means by which I
may swim about safely, without so often knocking upon the rocks
and being thrown on the sands."

"Trust to me," said Cianna, then thanking the whale for pointing
out the way, she set off walking along the shore; and after a long
journey she came to the river, which like a clerk of the treasury
was disbursing silver money into the bank of the sea. Then taking
the way up to its source, she arrived at a beautiful open country,
where the meadow vied with the heaven, displaying her green
mantle starred over with flowers; and there she met a mouse who
said to her, "Whither are you going thus alone, my pretty girl?"
And Cianna replied, "I am seeking the Mother of Time."

"You have a long way to go," said the mouse; "but do not lose
heart, everything has an end. Walk on, therefore, toward yon
mountains, which, like the free lords of these fields, assume the
title of Highness, and you will soon have more news of what you
are seeking. But do me one favour,--when you arrive at the house
you wish to find, get the good old woman to tell you what you can
do to rid us of the tyranny of the cats; then command me, and I am
your slave."

Cianna, after promising to do the mouse this kindness, set off
towards the mountains, which, although they appeared to be close
at hand, seemed never to be reached. But having come to them at
length, she sat down tired out upon a stone; and there she saw an
army of ants, carrying a large store of grain, one of whom turning
to Cianna said, "Who art thou, and whither art thou going?" And
Cianna, who was courteous to every one, said to her, "I am an
unhappy girl, who, for a matter that concerns me, am seeking the
dwelling of the Mother of Time."

"Go on farther," said the ant, "and where these mountains open
into a large plain you will obtain more news. But do me a great
favour,--get the secret from the old woman, what we ants can do to
live a little longer; for it seems to me a folly in worldly affairs to
be heaping up such a large store of food for so short a life, which,
like an auctioneer's candle, goes out just at the best bidding of
years."

"Be at ease," said Cianna, "I will return the kindness you have
shown me."

Then she passed the mountains and arrived at a wide plain; and
proceeding a little way over it, she came to a large oak-tree,
--a memorial of antiquity, whose fruit (a mouthful which Time
gives to this bitter age of its lost sweetness) tasted like sweetmeats
to the maiden, who was satisfied with little. Then the oak, making
lips of its bark and a tongue of its pith, said to Cianna, "Whither
are you going so sad, my little daughter? Come and rest under my
shade." Cianna thanked him much, but excused herself, saying that
she was going in haste to find the Mother of Time. And when the
oak heard this he replied, "You are not far from her dwelling; for
before you have gone another day's journey, you will see upon a
mountain a house, in which you will find her whom you seek. But
if you have as much kindness as beauty, I prithee learn for me
what I can do to regain my lost honour; for instead of being food
for great men, I am now only made the food of hogs."

"Leave that to me," replied Cianna, "I will take care to serve you."
So saying, she departed, and walking on and on without ever
resting, she came at length to the foot of an impertinent mountain,
which was poking its head into the face of the clouds. There she
found an old man, who, wearied and wayworn, had lain down
upon some hay; and as soon as he saw Cianna, he knew her at
once, and that it was she who had cured his bump.

When the old man heard what she was seeking, he told her that he
was carrying to Time the rent for the piece of earth which he had
cultivated, and that Time was a tyrant who usurped everything in
the world, claiming tribute from all, and especially from people of
his age; and he added that, having received kindness from Cianna,
he would now return it a hundredfold by giving her some good
information about her arrival at the mountain; and that he was
sorry he could not accompany her thither, since his old age, which
was condemned rather to go down than up, obliged him to remain
at the foot of those mountains, to cast up accounts with the clerks
of Time--which are the labours, the sufferings, and the infirmities
of life--and to pay the debt of Nature. So the old man said to her,
"Now, my pretty, innocent child, listen to me. You must know that
on the top of this mountain you will find a ruined house, which
was built long ago, time out of mind. The walls are cracked, the
foundations crumbling away, the doors worm-eaten, the furniture
all worn out--and, in short, everything is gone to wrack and ruin.
On one side are seen shattered columns, on another broken statues;
and nothing is left in a good state except a coat-of-arms over the
door, quartered on which you will see a serpent biting its tail, a
stag, a raven, and a phoenix. When you enter, you will see on the
ground, files, saws, scythes, sickles, pruning-hooks, and hundreds
and hundreds of vessels full of ashes, with the names written on
them, like gallipots in an apothecary's shop; and there may be read
Corinth, Saguntum, Carthage, Troy, and a thousand other cities,
the ashes of which Time preserved as trophies of his conquests.

"When you come near the house, hide yourself until Time goes
out; and as soon as he has gone forth, enter, and you will find an
old, old woman, with a beard that touches the ground and a hump
reaching to the sky. Her hair, like the tail of a dapple-grey horse,
covers her heels; her face looks like a plaited collar, with the folds
stiffened by the starch of years. The old woman is seated upon a
clock, which is fastened to a wall; and her eyebrows are so large
that they overshadow her eyes, so that she will not be able to see
you. As soon as you enter, quickly take the weights off the clock,
then call to the old woman, and beg her to answer your questions;
whereupon she will instantly call her son to come and eat you up.
But the clock upon which the old woman sits having lost its
weights, her son cannot move, and she will therefore be obliged to
tell you what you wish. But do not trust any oath she may make,
unless she swears by the wings of her son, and you will be
content."

So saying, the poor old man fell down and crumbled away, like a
dead body brought from a catacomb to the light of day. Then
Cianna took the ashes, and mixing them with a pint of tears, she
made a grave and buried them, praying Heaven to grant them quiet
and repose. And ascending the mountain till she was quite out of
breath, she waited until Time came out, who was an old man with
a long, long beard, and who wore a very old cloak covered with
slips of paper, on which were worked the names of various people.
He had large wings, and ran so fast that he was out of sight in an
instant.

When Cianna entered the house of his mother, she started with
affright at the sight of that black old chip; and instantly seizing the
weights of the clock, she told what she wanted to the old woman,
who, setting up a loud cry, called to her son. But Cianna said to
her, "You may butt your head against the wall as long as you like,
for you will not see your son whilst I hold these clock-weights."

Thereupon the old woman, seeing herself foiled, began to coax
Cianna, saying, "Let go of them, my dear, and do not stop my
son's course; for no man living has ever done that. Let go of them,
and may Heaven preserve you! for I promise you, by the acid of
my son, with which he corrodes everything, that I will do you no
harm."

"That's time lost," answered Cianna, "you must say something
better if you would have me quit my hold."

"I swear to you by those teeth, which gnaw all mortal things, that I
will tell you all you desire."

"That is all nothing," answered Cianna, "for I know you are
deceiving me."

"Well, then," said the old woman, "I swear to you by those wings
which fly over all that I will give you more pleasure than you
imagine."

Thereupon Cianna, letting go the weights, kissed the old woman's
hand, which had a mouldy feel and a nasty smell. And the old
woman, seeing the courtesy of the damsel, said to her, "Hide
yourself behind this door, and when Time comes home I will make
him tell me all you wish to know. And as soon as he goes out
again--for he never stays quiet in one place--you can depart. But do
not let yourself be heard or seen, for he is such a glutton that he
does not spare even his own children; and when all fails, he
devours himself and then springs up anew."

Cianna did as the old woman told her; and, lo! soon after Time
came flying quick, quick, high and light, and having gnawed
whatever came to hand, down to the very mouldiness upon the
walls, he was about to depart, when his mother told him all she
had heard from Cianna, beseeching him by the milk she had given
him to answer exactly all her questions. After a thousand
entreaties, her son replied, "To the tree may be answered, that it
can never be prized by men so long as it keeps treasures buried
under its roots; to the mice, that they will never be safe from the
cat unless they tie a bell to her leg to tell them when she is coming;
to the ants, that they will live a hundred years if they can dispense
with flying--for when the ant is going to die she puts on wings; to
the whale, that it should be of good cheer, and make friends with
the sea-mouse, who will serve him as a guide, so that he will never
go wrong; and to the doves, that when they alight on the column of
wealth, they will return to their former state."

So saying, Time set out to run his accustomed post; and Cianna,
taking leave of the old woman, descended to the foot of the
mountain, just at the very time that the seven doves, who had
followed their sister's footsteps, arrived there. Wearied with flying
so far, they stopped to rest upon the horn of a dead ox; and no
sooner had they alighted than they were changed into handsome
youths as they were at first. But while they were marvelling at this,
they heard the reply which Time had given, and saw at once that
the horn, as the symbol of plenty, was the column of wealth of
which Time had spoken. Then embracing their sister with great
joy, they all set out on the same road by which Cianna had come.
And when they came to the oak-tree, and told it what Cianna had
heard from Time, the tree begged them to take away the treasure
from its roots, since it was the cause why its acorns had lost their
reputation. Thereupon the seven brothers, taking a spade which
they found in a garden, dug and dug, until they came to a great
heap of gold money, which they divided into eight parts and shared
among themselves and their sister, so that they might carry it away
conveniently. But being wearied with the journey and the load,
they laid themselves down to sleep under a hedge. Presently a band
of robbers coming by, and seeing the poor fellows asleep, with
their heads upon the clothfuls of money, bound them hand and foot
to some trees and took away their money, leaving them to bewail
not only their wealth--which had slipped through their fingers as
soon as found--but their life; for being without hope of succour,
they were in peril of either soon dying of hunger or allaying the
hunger of some wild beast.

As they were lamenting their unhappy lot, up came the mouse,
who, as soon as she heard the reply which Time had given, in
return for the good service, nibbled the cords with which they were
bound and set them free. And having gone a little way farther, they
met on the road the ant, who, when she heard the advice of Time,
asked Cianna what was the matter that she was so pale-faced and
cast down. And when Cianna told her their misfortune, and the
trick which the robbers had played them, the ant replied, "Be
quiet, I can now requite the kindness you have done me. You must
know, that whilst I was carrying a load of grain underground, I saw
a place where these dogs of assassins hide their plunder. They have
made some holes under an old building, in which they shut up all
the things they have stolen. They are just now gone out for some
new robbery, and I will go with you and show you the place, so
that you may recover your money."

So saying, she took the way towards some tumbled-down houses,
and showed the seven brothers the mouth of the pit; whereupon
Giangrazio, who was bolder than the rest, entering it, found there
all the money of which they had been robbed. Then taking it with
them, they set out, and walked towards the seashore, where they
found the whale, and told him the good advice which Time--
who is the father of counsel--had given them. And whilst they
stood talking of their journey and all that had befallen them, they
saw the robbers suddenly appear, armed to the teeth, who had
followed in their footsteps. At this sight they exclaimed, "Alas,
alas! we are now wholly lost, for here come the robbers armed,
and they will not leave the skin on our bodies."

"Fear not," replied the whale, "for I can save you out of the fire,
and will thus requite the love you have shown me; so get upon my
back, and I will quickly carry you to a place of safety."

Cianna and her brothers, seeing the foe at their heels and the water
up to their throats, climbed upon the whale, who, keeping far off
from the rocks, carried them to within sight of Naples. But being
afraid to land them on account of the shoals and shallows, he said,
"Where would you like me to land you? On the shore of Amalfi?"
And Giangrazio answered, "See whether that cannot be avoided,
my dear fish. I do not wish to land at any place hereabouts; for at
Massa they say barely good-day, at Sorrento thieves are plenty, at
Vico they say you may go your way, at Castel-a-mare no one says
how are ye."

Then the whale, to please them, turned about and went toward the
Salt-rock, where he left them; and they got put on shore by the first
fishing-boat that passed. Thereupon they returned to their own
country, safe and sound and rich, to the great joy and consolation
of their mother and father. And, thanks to the goodness of Cianna,
they enjoyed a happy life, verifying the old saying--

    "Do good whenever you can, and forget it."



XXV

THE RAVEN

It is truly a great proverb--"Rather a crooked sight than a crooked
judgment"; but it is so difficult to adopt it that the judgment of few
men hits the nail on the head. On the contrary, in the sea of human
affairs, the greater part are fishers in smooth waters, who catch
crabs; and he who thinks to take the most exact measure of the
object at which he aims often shoots widest of the mark. The
consequence of this is that all are running pell-mell, all toiling in
the dark, all thinking crookedly, all acting child's-play, all judging
at random, and with a haphazard blow of a foolish resolution
bringing upon themselves a bitter repentance; as was the case with
the King of Shady-Grove; and you shall hear how it fared with him
if you summon me within the circle of modesty with the bell of
courtesy, and give me a little attention.

It is said that there was once a king of Shady-Grove named
Milluccio, who was so devoted to the chase, that he neglected the
needful affairs of his state and household to follow the track of a
hare or the flight of a thrush. And he pursued this road so far that
chance one day led him to a thicket, which had formed a solid
square of earth and trees to prevent the horses of the Sun from
breaking through. There, upon a most beautiful marble stone, he
found a raven, which had just been killed.

The King, seeing the bright red blood sprinkled upon the white,
white marble, heaved a deep sigh and exclaimed, "O heavens! and
cannot I have a wife as white and red as this stone, and with hair
and eyebrows as black as the feathers of this raven?" And he stood
for a while so buried in this thought that he became a counterpart
to the stone, and looked like a marble image making love to the
other marble. And this unhappy fancy fixing itself in his head, as
he searched for it everywhere with the lanthorn of desire, it grew
in four seconds from a picktooth to a pole, from a crab-apple to an
Indian pumpkin, from barber's embers to a glass furnace, and from
a dwarf to a giant; insomuch that he thought of nothing else than
the image of that object encrusted in his heart as stone to stone.
Wherever he turned his eyes that form was always presented to
him which he carried in his breast; and forgetting all besides, he
had nothing but that marble in his head; in short, he became in a
manner so worn away upon the stone that he was at last as thin as
the edge of a penknife; and this marble was a millstone which
crushed his life, a slab of porphyry upon which the colours of his
days were ground and mixed, a tinder-box which set fire to the
brimstone match of his soul, a loadstone which attracted him, and
lastly, a rolling-stone which could never rest.

At length his brother Jennariello, seeing him so pale and half-dead,
said to him, "My brother, what has happened to you, that you carry
grief lodged in your eyes, and despair sitting under the pale banner
of your face? What has befallen you? Speak--open your heart to
your brother: the smell of charcoal shut up in a chamber poisons
people--powder pent up in a mountain blows it into the air; open
your lips, therefore, and tell me what is the matter with you; at all
events be assured that I would lay down a thousand lives if I could
to help you."

Then Milluccio, mingling words and sighs, thanked him for his
love, saying that he had no doubt of his affection, but that there
was no remedy for his ill, since it sprang from a stone, where he
had sown desires without hope of fruit--a stone from which he did
not expect a mushroom of content--a stone of Sisyphus, which he
bore to the mountain of designs, and when it reached the top rolled
over and over to the bottom. At length, however, after a thousand
entreaties, Milluccio told his brother all about his love; whereupon
Jennariello comforted him as much as he could, and bade him be
of good cheer, and not give way to an unhappy passion; for that he
was resolved, in order to satisfy him, to go all the world over until
he found a woman the counterpart of the stone.

Then instantly fitting out a large ship, filled with merchandise, and
dressing himself like a merchant, he sailed for Venice, the wonder
of Italy, the receptacle of virtuous men, the great book of the
marvels of art and nature; and having procured there a 
safe-conduct to pass to the Levant, he set sail for Cairo. When he
arrived there and entered the city, he saw a man who was carrying
a most beautiful falcon, and Jennariello at once purchased it to
take to his brother, who was a sportsman. Soon afterwards he met
another man with a splendid horse, which he also bought;
whereupon he went to an inn to refresh himself after the fatigues
he had suffered at sea.

The following morning, when the army of the Star, at the
command of the general of the Light, strikes the tents in the camp
of the sky and abandons the post, Jennariello set out to wander
through the city, having his eyes about him like a lynx, looking at
this woman and that, to see whether by chance he could find the
likeness to a stone upon a face of flesh. And as he was wandering
about at random, turning continually to this side and that, like a
thief in fear of the constables, he met a beggar carrying an hospital
of plasters and a mountain of rags upon his back, who said to him,
"My gallant sir, what makes you so frightened?"

"Have I, forsooth, to tell you my affairs?" answered Jennariello.
" Faith I should do well to tell my reason to the constable."

"Softly, my fair youth!" replied the beggar, "for the flesh of man is
not sold by weight. If Darius had not told his troubles to a groom
he would not have become king of Persia. It will be no great
matter, therefore, for you to tell your affairs to a poor beggar, for
there is not a twig so slender but it may serve for a toothpick."

When Jennariello heard the poor man talking sensibly and with
reason, he told him the cause that had brought him to that country;
whereupon the beggar replied, "See now, my son, how necessary it
is to make account of every one; for though I am only a heap of
rubbish, yet I shall be able to enrich the garden of your hopes. Now
listen--under the pretext of begging alms, I will knock at the door
of the young and beautiful daughter of a magician; then open your
eyes wide, look at her, contemplate her, regard her, measure her
from head to foot, for you will find the image of her whom your
brother desires." So saying, he knocked at the door of a house
close by, and Liviella opening it threw him a piece of bread.

As soon as Jennariello saw her, she seemed to him built after the
model which Milluccio had given him; then he gave a good alms
to the beggar and sent him away, and going to the inn he dressed
himself like a pedlar, carrying in two caskets all the wealth of the
world. And thus he walked up and down before Liviella's house
crying his wares, until at length she called him, and took a view of
the beautiful net-caps, hoods, ribands, gauze, edgings, lace,
handkerchiefs, collars, needles, cups of rouge, and head-gear fit for
a queen, which he carried. And when she had examined all the
things again and again, she told him to show her something else;
and Jennariello answered, "My lady, in these caskets I have only
cheap and paltry wares; but if you will deign to come to my ship, I
will show you things of the other world, for I have there a host of
beautiful goods worthy of any great lord."

Liviella, who was full of curiosity, not to belie the nature of her
sex, replied, "If my father indeed were not out he would have
given me some money."

"Nay, you can come all the better if he is out," replied Jennariello,
"for perhaps he might not allow you the pleasure; and I'll promise
to show you such splendid things as will make you rave
--such necklaces and earrings, such bracelets and sashes, such
workmanship in paper--in short I will perfectly astound you."

When Liviella heard all this display of finery she called a gossip of
hers to accompany her, and went to the ship. But no sooner had
she embarked than Jennariello, whilst keeping her enchanted with
the sight of all the beautiful things he had brought, craftily ordered
the anchor to be weighed and the sails to be set, so that before
Liviella raised her eyes from the wares and saw that she had left
the land, they had already gone many miles. When at length she
perceived the trick, she began to act Olympia the reverse way; for
whereas Olympia bewailed being left upon a rock, Liviella
lamented leaving the rocks. But when Jennariello told her who he
was, whither he was carrying her, and the good fortune that
awaited her, and pictured to her, moreover, Milluccio's beauty, his
valour, his virtues, and lastly the love with which he would receive
her, he succeeded in pacifying her, and she even prayed the wind
to bear her quickly to see the colouring of the design which
Jennariello had drawn.

As they were sailing merrily along they heard the waves grumbling
beneath the ship; and although they spoke in an undertone, the
captain of the ship, who understood in an instant what it meant,
cried out, "All hands aboard! for here comes a storm, and Heaven
save us!" No sooner had he spoken these words than there came
the testimony of a whistling of the wind; and behold the sky was
overcast with clouds, and the sea was covered with white-crested
waves. And whilst the waves on either side of the ship, curious to
know what the others were about, leaped uninvited to the nuptials
upon the deck, one man baled them with a bowl into a tub, another
drove them off with a pump; and whilst every sailor was hard at
work--as it concerned his own safety--one minding the rudder,
another hauling the foresail, another the mainsheet, Jennariello ran
up to the topmast, to see with a telescope if he could discover any
land where they might cast anchor. And lo! whilst he was
measuring a hundred miles of distance with two feet of telescope,
he saw a dove and its mate come flying up and alight upon the 
sail-yard. Then the male bird said, "Rucche, rucche!" And his mate
answered, "What's the matter, husband, that you are lamenting
so?" "This poor Prince," replied the other, "has bought a falcon,
which as soon as it shall be in his brother's hands will pick out his
eyes; but if he does not take it to him, or if he warns him of the
danger, he will turn to marble." And thereupon he began again to
cry, "Rucche, rucche!" And his mate said to him, "What, still
lamenting! Is there anything new?" "Ay, indeed," answered the
male dove, "he has also bought a horse, and the first time his
brother rides him the horse will break his neck; but if he does not
take it to him, or if he warns him of the danger, he will turn to
marble." "Rucche, rucche!" he cried again. "Alas, with all these
RUCCHE, RUCCHE," said the female dove, "what's the matter
now?" And her mate said, "This man is taking a beautiful wife to
his brother; but the first night, as soon as they go to sleep, they will
both be devoured by a frightful dragon; yet if he does not take her
to him, or if he warns him of the danger, he will turn to marble."

As he spoke, the tempest ceased, and the rage of the sea and the
fury of the wind subsided. But a far greater tempest arose in
Jennariello's breast, from what he had heard, and more than
twenty times he was on the point of throwing all the things into the
sea, in order not to carry to his brother the cause of his ruin. But on
the other hand he thought of himself, and reflected that charity
begins at home; and fearing that, if he did not carry these things to
his brother, or if he warned him of the danger, he should turn to
marble, he resolved to look rather to the fact than to the
possibility, since the shirt was closer to him than the jacket.

When he arrived at Shady-Grove, he found his brother on the
shore, awaiting with great joy the return of the ship, which he had
seen at a distance. And when he saw that it bore her whom he
carried in his heart, and confronting one face with the other
perceived that there was not the difference of a hair, his joy was so
great that he was almost weighed down under the excessive burden
of delight. Then embracing his brother fervently, he said to him,
"What falcon is that you are carrying on your fist?" And
Jennariello answered, "I have bought it on purpose to give to you."
"I see clearly that you love me," replied Milluccio, "since you go
about seeking to give me pleasure. Truly, if you had brought me a
costly treasure, it could not have given me greater delight than this
falcon." And just as he was going to take it in his hand, Jennariello
quickly drew a large knife which he carried at his side and cut off
its head. At this deed the King stood aghast, and thought his
brother mad to have done such a stupid act; but not to interrupt the
joy at his arrival, he remained silent. Presently, however, he saw
the horse, and on asking his brother whose it was, heard that it was
his own. Then he felt a great desire to ride him, and just as he was
ordering the stirrup to beheld, Jennariello quickly cut off the
horse's legs with his knife. Thereat the King waxed wrath, for his
brother seemed to have done it on purpose to vex him, and his
choler began to rise. However, he did not think it a right time to
show resentment, lest he should poison the pleasure of the bride at
first sight, whom he could never gaze upon enough.

When they arrived at the royal palace, he invited all the lords and
ladies of the city to a grand feast, at which the hall seemed just
like a riding-school full of horses, curveting and prancing, with a
number of foals in the form of women. But when the ball was
ended, and a great banquet had been despatched, they all retired to
rest.

Jennariello, who thought of nothing else than to save his brother's
life, hid himself behind the bed of the bridal pair; and as he stood
watching to see the dragon come, behold at midnight a fierce
dragon entered the chamber, who sent forth flames from his eyes
and smoke from his mouth, and who, from the terror he carried in
his look, would have been a good agent to sell all the antidotes to
fear in the apothecaries' shops. As soon as Jennariello saw the
monster, he began to lay about him right and left with a Damascus
blade which he had hidden under his cloak; and he struck one blow
so furiously that it cut in halves a post of the King's bed, at which
noise the King awoke, and the dragon disappeared.

When Milluccio saw the sword in his brother's hand, and the
bedpost cut in two, he set up a loud cry, "Help here! hola! help!
This traitor of a brother is come to kill me!" Whereupon, hearing
the noise, a number of servants who slept in the antechamber came
running up, and the King ordered Jennariello to be bound, and sent
him the same hour to prison.

The next morning, as soon as the Sun opened his bank to deliver
the deposit of light to the Creditor of the Day, the King summoned
the council; and when he told them what had passed, confirming
the wicked intention shown in killing the falcon and the horse on
purpose to vex him, they judged that Jennariello deserved to die.
The prayers of Liviella were all unavailing to soften the heart of
the King, who said, "You do not love me, wife, for you have more
regard for your brother-in-law than for my life. You have seen with
your own eyes this dog of an assassin come with a sword that
would cut a hair in the air to kill me; and if the bedpost (the
column of my life) had not protected me, you would at this
moment have been a widow." So saying, he gave orders that
justice should take its course.

When Jennariello heard this sentence, and saw himself so 
ill-rewarded for doing good, he knew not what to think or to do. If
he said nothing, bad; if he spoke, worse; and whatever he should
do was a fall from the tree into the wolf's mouth. If he remained
silent, he should lose his head under an axe; if he spoke, he should
end his days in a stone. At length, after various resolutions, he
made up his mind to disclose the matter to his brother; and since
he must die at all events, he thought it better to tell his brother the
truth, and to end his days with the title of an innocent man, than to
keep the truth to himself and be sent out of the world as a traitor.
So sending word to the King that he had something to say of
importance to his state, he was led into his presence, where he first
made a long preamble of the love he had always borne him; then
he went on to tell of the deception he had practiced on Liviella in
order to give him pleasure; and then what he had heard from the
doves about the falcon, and how, to avoid being turned to marble,
he had brought it him, and without revealing the secret had killed
it in order not to see him without eyes.

As he spoke, he felt his legs stiffen and turn to marble. And when
he went on to relate the affair of the horse in the same manner, he
became visibly stone up to the waist, stiffening miserably--
a thing which at another time he would have paid in ready money,
but which now his heart wept at. At last, when he came to the
affair of the dragon, he stood like a statue in the middle of the hall,
stone from head to foot. When the King saw this, reproaching
himself for the error he had committed, and the rash sentence he
had passed upon so good and loving a brother, he mourned him
more than a year, and every time he thought of him he shed a river
of tears.

Meanwhile Liviella gave birth to two sons, who were two of the
most beautiful creatures in the world. And after a few months,
when the Queen was gone into the country for pleasure, and the
father and his two little boys chanced to be standing in the middle
of the hall, gazing with tearful eyes on the statue--the memorial of
his folly, which had taken from him the flower of men--
behold a stately and venerable old man entered, whose long hair
fell upon his shoulders and whose beard covered his breast. And
making a reverence to the King, the old man said to him, "What
would your Majesty give to have this noble brother return to his
former state?" And the King answered, "I would give my
kingdom." "Nay," replied the old man, "this is not a thing that
requires payment in wealth; but being an affair of life, it must be
paid for with as much again of life."

Then the King, partly out of the love he bore Jennariello, and
partly from hearing himself reproached with the injury he had
done him, answered, "Believe me, my good sir, I would give my
own life for his life; and provided that he came out of the stone, I
should be content to be enclosed in a stone."

Hearing this the old man said, "Without putting your life to the
risk--since it takes so long to rear a man--the blood of these, your
two little boys, smeared upon the marble, would suffice to make
him instantly come to life." Then the King replied, "Children I
may have again, but I have a brother, and another I can never more
hop to see." So saying, he made a pitiable sacrifice of two little
innocent kids before an idol of stone, and besmearing the statue
with their blood, it instantly became alive; whereupon the King
embraced his brother, and their joy is not to be told. Then they had
these poor little creatures put into a coffin, in order to give them
burial with all due honour. But just at that instant the Queen
returned home, and the King, bidding his brother hide himself,
said to his wife, "What would you give, my heart, to have my
brother restored to life?" "I would give this whole kingdom,"
replied Liviella. And the King answered, "Would you give the
blood of your children?" "Nay, not that, indeed," replied the
Queen; "for I could not be so cruel as to tear out with my own
hands the apple of my eyes." "Alas!" said the King, "in order to
see a brother alive, I have killed my own children! for this was the
price of Jennariello's life!"

So saying, he showed the Queen the little boys in the coffin; and
when she saw this sad spectacle, she cried aloud like one mad,
saying, "O my children! you props of my life, joys of my heart,
fountains of my blood! Who has painted red the windows of the
sun? Who has without a doctor's licence bled the chief vein of my
life? Alas, my children, my children! my hope now taken from me,
my light now darkened, my joy now poisoned, my support now
lost! You are stabbed by the sword, I am pierced by grief; you are
drowned in blood, I in tears. Alas that, to give life to an uncle, you
have slain your mother! For I am no longer able to weave the
thread of my days without you, the fair counterpoises of the loom
of my unhappy life. The organ of my voice must be silent, now
that its bellows are taken away. O children, children! why do ye
not give answer to your mother, who once gave you the blood in
your veins, and now weeps it for you from her eyes? But since fate
shows me the fountain of my happiness dried up, I will no longer
live the sport of fortune in the world, but will go at once to find
you again!"

So saying, she ran to a window to throw herself out; but just at that
instant her father entered by the same window in a cloud, and
called to her, "Stop, Liviella! I have now accomplished what I
intended, and killed three birds with one stone. I have revenged
myself on Jennariello, who came to my house to rob me of my
daughter, by making him stand all these months like a marble
statue in a block of stone. I have punished you for your 
ill-conduct in going away in a ship without my permission, by
showing you your two children, your two jewels, killed by their
own father. And I have punished the King for the caprice he took
into his head, by making him first the judge of his brother, and
afterwards the executioner of his children. But as I have wished
only to shear and not to flay you, I desire now that all the poison
may turn into sweetmeats for you. Therefore, go, take again your
children and my grandchildren, who are more beautiful than ever.
And you, Milluccio, embrace me. I receive you as my 
son-in-law and as my son. And I pardon Jennariello his offence,
having done all that he did out of love to so excellent a brother."

And as he spoke, the little children came, and the grandfather was
never satisfied with embracing and kissing them; and in the midst
of the rejoicings Jennariello entered, as a third sharer in them,
who, after suffering so many storms of fate, was now swimming in
macaroni broth. But notwithstanding all the after pleasures that he
enjoyed in life, his past dangers never went from his mind; and he
was always thinking on the error his brother had committed, and
how careful a man ought to be not to fall into the ditch, 
since--

     "All human judgment is false and perverse."



XXVI

THE MONTHS

It is a saying worthy to be written in letters as big as those on a
monument, that silence never harmed any one: and let it not be
imagined that those slanderers who never speak well of others, but
are always cutting and stinging, and pinching and biting, ever gain
anything by their malice; for when the bags come to be shaken out,
it has always been seen, and is so still, that whilst a good word
gains love and profit, slander brings enmity and ruin; and when
you shall have heard how this happens, you will say I speak with
reason.

Once upon a time there were two brothers--Cianne, who was as
rich as a lord, and Lise, who had barely enough to live upon: but
poor as one was in fortune, so pitiful was the other in mind, for he
would not have given his brother a farthing were it to save his life;
so that poor Lise in despair left his country, and set out to wander
over the world. And he wandered on and on, till one wet and cold
evening he came to an inn, where he found twelve youths seated
around a fire, who, when they saw poor Lise benumbed with cold,
partly from the severe season and partly from his ragged clothes,
invited him to sit down by the fire.

Lise accepted the invitation, for he needed it greatly, and began to
warm himself. And as he was warming himself, one of the young
men whose face was such a picture of moroseness as to make you
die of fright, said to him, "What think you, countryman, of this
weather?"

"What do I think of it?" replied Lise; "I think that all the months of
the year perform their duty; but we, who know not what we would
have, wish to give laws to Heaven; and wanting to have things our
own way, we do not fish deeply enough to the bottom, to find out
whether what comes into our fancy be good or evil, useful or
hurtful. In winter, when it rains, we want the sun in Leo, and in the
month of August the clouds to discharge themselves; not
reflecting, that were this the case, the seasons would be turned
topsy-turvy, the seed sown would be lost, the crops would be
destroyed, the bodies of men would faint away, and Nature would
go head over heels. Therefore let us leave Heaven to its own
course; for it has made the tree to mitigate with its wood the
severity of winter, and with its leaves the heat of summer."

"You speak like Samson!" replied the youth; "but you cannot deny
that this month of March, in which we now are, is very impertinent
to send all this frost and rain, snow and hail, wind and storm, these
fogs and tempests and other troubles, that make one's life a
burden."

"You tell only the ill of this poor month," replied Lisa, "but do not
speak of the benefits it yields us; for, by bringing forward the
Spring, it commences the production of things, and is alone the
cause that the Sun proves the happiness of the present time, by
leading him into the house of the Ram."

The youth was greatly pleased at what Lise said, for he was in truth
no other than the month of March itself, who had arrived at that
inn with his eleven brothers; and to reward Lise's goodness, who
had not even found anything ill to say of a month so sad that the
shepherds do not like to mention it, he gave him a beautiful little
casket, saying, "Take this, and if you want anything, only ask for
it, and when you open this box you will see it before you." Lise
thanked the youth, with many expressions of respect, and laying
the little box under his head by way of a pillow, he went to sleep.

As soon, however, as the Sun, with the pencil of his rays, had
retouched the dark shadows of Night, Lise took leave of the youths
and set out on his way. But he had hardly proceeded fifty steps
from the inn, when, opening the casket, he said, "Ah, my friend, I
wish I had a litter lined with cloth, and with a little fire inside, that
I might travel warm and comfortable through the snow!" No
sooner had he uttered the words than there appeared a litter, with
bearers, who, lifting him up, placed him in it; whereupon he told
them to carry him home.

When the hour was come to set the jaws to work Lise opened the
little box and said, "I wish for something to eat." And instantly
there appeared a profusion of the choicest food, and there was
such a banquet that ten crowned kings might have feasted on it.

One evening, having come to a wood which did not give
admittance to the Sun because he came from suspected places,
Lise opened the little casket, and said, "I should like to rest 
to-night on this beautiful spot, where the river is making harmony
upon the stones as accompaniment to the song of the cool
breezes." And instantly there appeared, under an oilcloth tent, a
couch of fine scarlet, with down mattresses, covered with a
Spanish counterpane and sheets as light as a feather. Then he
asked for something to eat, and in a trice there was set out a
sideboard covered with silver and gold fit for a prince, and under
another tent a table was spread with viands, the savoury smell of
which extended a hundred miles.

When he had eaten enough, he laid himself down to sleep; and as
soon as the Cock, who is the spy of the Sun, announced to his
master that the Shades of Night were worn and wearied, and it was
now time for him, like a skilful general, to fall upon their rear and
make a slaughter of them, Lise opened his little box and said, "I
wish to have a handsome dress, for to-day I shall see my brother,
and I should like to make his mouth water." No sooner said than
done: immediately a princely dress of the richest black velvet
appeared, with edgings of red camlet and a lining of yellow cloth
embroidered all over, which looked like a field of flowers. So
dressing himself, Lise got into the litter and soon reached his
brother's house.

When Cianne saw his brother arrive, with all this splendour and
luxury, he wished to know what good fortune had befallen him.
Then Lise told him of the youths whom he had met in the inn, and
of the present they had made him; but he kept to himself his
conversation with the youths.

Cianne was now all impatience to get away from his brother, and
told him to go and rest himself, as he was no doubt tired; then he
started post-haste, and soon arrived at the inn, where, finding the
same youths, he fell into chat with them. And when the youth
asked him the same question, what he thought of that month of
March, Cianne, making a big mouth, said, "Confound the
miserable month! the enemy of shepherds, which stirs up all the
ill-humours and brings sickness to our bodies. A month of which,
whenever we would announce ruin to a man, we say,  Go, March
has shaved you!' A month of which, when you want to call a man
presumptuous, you say,  What cares March?' A month in short so
hateful, that it would be the best fortune for the world, the greatest
blessing to the earth, the greatest gain to men, were it excluded
from the band of brothers."

March, who heard himself thus slandered, suppressed his anger till
the morning, intending then to reward Cianne for his calumny; and
when Cianne wished to depart, he gave him a fine whip, saying to
him, "Whenever you wish for anything, only say,  Whip, give me a
hundred!' and you shall see pearls strung upon a rush."

Cianne, thanking the youth, went his way in great haste, not
wishing to make trial of the whip until he reached home. But
hardly had he set foot in the house, when he went into a secret
chamber, intending to hide the money which he expected to
receive from the whip. Then he said, "Whip, give me a hundred!"
and thereupon the whip gave him more than he looked for, making
a score on his legs and face like a musical composer, so that Lise,
hearing his cries, came running to the spot; and when he saw that
the whip, like a runaway horse, could not stop itself, he opened the
little box and brought it to a standstill. Then he asked Cianne what
had happened to him, and upon hearing his story, he told him he
had no one to blame but himself; for like a blockhead he alone had
caused his own misfortune, acting like the camel, that wanted to
have horns and lost its ears; but he bade him mind another time
and keep a bridle on his tongue, which was the key that had
opened to him the storehouse of misfortune; for if he had spoken
well of the youths, he would perhaps have had the same good
fortune, especially as to speak well of any one is a merchandise
that costs nothing, and usually brings profit that is not expected. In
conclusion Lise comforted him, bidding him not seek more wealth
than Heaven had give him, for his little casket would suffice to fill
the houses of thirty misers, and Cianne should be master of all he
possessed, since to the generous man Heaven is treasurer; and he
added that, although another brother might have borne Cianne 
ill-will for the cruelty with which he had treated him in his
poverty, yet he reflected that his avarice had been a favourable
wind which had brought him to this port, and therefore wished to
show himself grateful for the benefit.

When Cianne heard these things, he begged his brother's pardon
for his past unkindness, and entering into partnership they enjoyed
together their good fortune, and from that time forward Cianne
spoke well of everything, however bad it might be; 
for--

     "The dog that was scalaed with hot water, for ever dreads that
which is cold."



XXVII

PINTOSMALTO

It has always been more difficult for a man to keep than to get; for
in the one case fortune aids, which often assists injustice, but in
the other case sense is required. Therefore we frequently find a
person deficient in cleverness rise to wealth, and then, from want
of sense, roll over heels to the bottom; as you will see clearly from
the story I am going to tell you, if you are quick of understanding.

A merchant once had an only daughter, whom he wished greatly to
see married; but as often as he struck this note, he found her a
hundred miles off from the desired pitch, for the foolish girl would
never consent to marry, and the father was in consequence the
most unhappy and miserable man in the world. Now it happened
one day that he was going to a fair; so he asked his daughter, who
was named Betta, what she would like him to bring her on his
return. And she said, "Papa, if you love me, bring me half a
hundredweight of Palermo sugar, and as much again of sweet
almonds, with four to six bottles of scented water, and a little
musk and amber, also forty pearls, two sapphires, a few garnets
and rubies, with some gold thread, and above all a trough and a
little silver trowel." Her father wondered at this extravagant
demand, nevertheless he would not refuse his daughter; so he went
to the fair, and on his return brought her all that she had requested.

As soon as Betta received these things, she shut herself up in a
chamber, and began to make a great quantity of paste of almonds
and sugar, mixed with rosewater and perfumes, and set to work to
form a most beautiful youth, making his hair of gold thread, his
eyes of sapphires, his teeth of pearls, his lips of rubies; and she
gave him such grace that speech alone was wanting to him. When
she had done all this, having heard say that at the prayers of a
certain King of Cyprus a statue had once come to life, she prayed
to the goddess of Love so long that at last the statue began to open
its eyes; and increasing her prayers, it began to breathe; and after
breathing, words came out; and at last, disengaging all its limbs, it
began to walk.

With a joy far greater than if she had gained a kingdom, Betta
embraced and kissed the youth, and taking him by the hand, she
led him before her father and said, "My lord and father, you have
always told me that you wished to see me married, and in order to
please you I have now chosen a husband after my own heart."
When her father saw the handsome youth come out of his
daughter's room, whom he had not seen enter it, he stood amazed,
and at the sight of such beauty, which folks would have paid a
halfpenny a head to gaze at, he consented that the marriage should
take place. So a great feast was made, at which, among the other
ladies present, there appeared a great unknown Queen, who, seeing
the beauty of Pintosmalto (for that was the name Betta gave him),
fell desperately in love with him. Now Pintosmalto, who had only
opened his eyes on the wickedness of the world three hours before,
and was as innocent as a babe, accompanied the strangers who had
come to celebrate his nuptials to the stairs, as his bride had told
him; and when he did the same with this Queen, she took him by
the hand and led him quietly to her coach, drawn by six horses,
which stood in the courtyard; then taking him into it, she ordered
the coachman to drive off and away to her country.

After Betta had waited a while in vain expecting Pintosmalto to
return, she sent down into the courtyard to see whether he were
speaking with any one there; then she sent up to the roof to see if
he had gone to take fresh air; but finding him nowhere, she directly
imagined that, on account of his great beauty, he had been stolen
from her. So she ordered the usual proclamations to be made; but
at last, as no tidings of him were brought, she formed the
resolution to go all the world over in search of him, and dressing
herself as a poor girl, she set out on her way. After some months
she came to the house of a good old woman, who received her
with great kindness; and when she had heard Betta's misfortune,
she took compassion on her, and taught her three sayings. The first
was, "Tricche varlacche, the house rains!" the second, "Anola
tranola, the fountain plays!"; the third, "Scatola matola, the sun
shines!"--telling her to repeat these words whenever she was in
trouble, and they would be of good service to her.

Betta wondered greatly at this present of chaff, nevertheless she
said to herself, "He who blows into your mouth does not wish to
see you dead, and the plant that strikes root does not wither;
everything has its use; who knows what good fortune may be
contained in these words?" So saying, she thanked the old woman,
and set out upon her way. And after a long journey she came to a
beautiful city called Round Mount, where she went straight to the
royal palace, and begged for the love of Heaven a little shelter in
the stable. So the ladies of the court ordered a small room to be
given her on the stairs; and while poor Betta was sitting there she
saw Pintosmalto pass by, whereat her joy was so great that she was
on the point of slipping down from the tree of life. But seeing the
trouble she was in, Betta wished to make proof of the first saying
which the old woman had told her; and no sooner had she repeated
the words, "Tricche varlacche, the house rains!" than instantly
there appeared before her a beautiful little coach of gold set all
over with jewels, which ran about the chamber of itself and was a
wonder to behold.

When the ladies of the court saw this sight they went and told the
Queen, who without loss of time ran to Betta's chamber; and when
she saw the beautiful little coach, she asked whether she would
sell it, and offered to give whatever she might demand. But Betta
replied that, although she was poor she would not sell it for all the
gold in the world, but if the Queen wished for the little coach, she
must allow her to pass one night at the door of Pintosmalto's
chamber.

The Queen was amazed at the folly of the poor girl, who although
she was all in rags would nevertheless give up such riches for a
mere whim; however, she resolved to take the good mouthful
offered her, and, by giving Pintosmalto a sleeping-draught, 
to satisfy the poor girl but pay her in bad coin.

As soon as the Night was come, when the stars in the sky and the
glowworms on the earth were to pass in review, the Queen gave a
sleeping-draught to Pintosmalto, who did everything he was told,
and sent him to bed. And no sooner had he thrown himself on the
mattress than he fell as sound asleep as a dormouse. Poor Betta,
who thought that night to relate all her past troubles, seeing now
that she had no audience, fell to lamenting beyond measure,
blaming herself for all that she had done for his sake; and the
unhappy girl never closed her mouth, nor did the sleeping
Pintosmalto ever open his eyes until the Sun appeared with the
aqua regia of his rays to separate the shades from the light, when
the Queen came down, and taking Pintosmalto by the hand, said to
Betta, "Now be content." 

"May you have such content all the days of your life!" replied
Betta in an undertone; "for I have passed so bad a night that I shall
not soon forget it."

The poor girl, however, could not resist her longing, and resolved
to make trial of the second saying; so she repeated the words,
"Anola tranola, the fountain plays!" and instantly there appeared a
golden cage, with a beautiful bird made of precious stones and
gold, which sang like a nightingale. When the ladies saw this they
went and told it to the Queen, who wished to see the bird; then she
asked the same question as about the little coach, and Betta made
the same reply as before. Whereupon the Queen, who perceived, as
she thought, what a silly creature Betta was, promised to grant her
request, and took the cage with the bird. And as soon as night
came she gave Pintosmalto a sleeping-draught as before, and sent
him to bed. When Betta saw that he slept like a dead person, she
began again to wail and lament, saying things that would have
moved a flintstone to compassion; and thus she passed another
night, full of trouble, weeping and wailing and tearing her hair.
But as soon as it was day the Queen came to fetch her captive, and
left poor Betta in grief and sorrow, and biting her hands with
vexation at the trick that had been played her.

In the morning when Pintosmalto went to a garden outside the city
gate to pluck some figs, he met a cobbler, who lived in a room
close to where Betta lay and had not lost a word of all she had
said. Then he told Pintosmalto of the weeping, lamentation, and
crying of the unhappy beggar-girl; and when Pintosmalto, who
already began to get a little more sense, heard this, he guessed how
matters stood, and resolved that, if the same thing happened again,
he would not drink what the Queen gave him.

Betta now wished to make the third trial, so she said the words,
"Scatola matola, the sun shines!" and instantly there appeared a
quantity of stuffs of silk and gold, and embroidered scarfs, with a
golden cup; in short, the Queen herself could not have brought
together so many beautiful ornaments. When the ladies saw these
things they told their mistress, who endeavoured to obtain them as
she had done the others; but Betta replied as before, that if the
Queen wished to have them she must let her spend the night at the
door of the chamber. Then the Queen said to herself, "What can I
lose by satisfying this silly girl, in order to get from her these
beautiful things?" So taking all the treasures which Betta offered
her, as soon as Night appeared, the instrument for the debt
contracted with Sleep and Repose being liquidated, she gave the
sleeping-draught to Pintosmalto; but this time he did not swallow
it, and making an excuse to leave the room, he spat it out again,
and then went to bed.

Betta now began the same tune again, saying how she had kneaded
him with her own hands of sugar and almonds, how she had made
his hair of gold, and his eyes and mouth of pearls and precious
stones, and how he was indebted to her for his life, which the gods
had granted to her prayers, and lastly how he had been stolen from
her, and she had gone seeking him with such toil and trouble. Then
she went on to tell him how she had watched two nights at the
door of his room, and for leave to do so had given up two
treasures, and yet had not been able to hear a single word from
him, so that this was the last night of her hopes and the conclusion
of her life.

When Pintosmalto, who had remained awake, heard these words,
and called to mind as a dream all that had passed, he rose and
embraced her; and as Night had just come forth with her black
mask to direct the dance of the Stars, he went very quietly into the
chamber of the Queen, who was in a deep sleep, and took from her
all the things that she had taken from Betta, and all the jewels and
money which were in a desk, to repay himself for his past troubles.
Then returning to his wife, they set off that very hour, and
travelled on and on until they arrived at her father's house, where
they found him alive and well; and from the joy of seeing his
daughter again he became like a boy of fifteen years. But when the
Queen found neither Pintosmalto, nor beggar-girl, nor jewels, she
tore her hair and rent her clothes, and called to mind the 
saying--

     "He who cheats must not complain if he be cheated."



XXVIII

THE GOLDEN ROOT

A person who is over-curious, and wants to know more than he
ought, always carries the match in his hand to set fire to the
powder-room of his own fortunes; and he who pries into others'
affairs is frequently a loser in his own; for generally he who digs
holes to search for treasures, comes to a ditch into which he
himself falls--as happened to the daughter of a gardener in the
following manner.

There was once a gardener who was so very very poor that,
however hard he worked, he could not manage to get bread for his
family. So he gave three little pigs to his three daughters, that they
might rear them, and thus get something for a little dowry. Then
Pascuzza and Cice, who were the eldest, drove their little pigs to
feed in a beautiful meadow; but they would not let Parmetella,
who was the youngest daughter, go with them, and sent her away,
telling her to go and feed her pig somewhere else. So Parmetella
drove her little animal into a wood, where the Shades were holding
out against the assaults of the Sun; and coming to a pasture
--in the middle of which flowed a fountain, that, like the hostess of
an inn where cold water is sold, was inviting the passers-by with
its silver tongue--she found a certain tree with golden leaves. Then
plucking one of them, she took it to her father, who with great joy
sold it for more than twenty ducats, which served to stop up a hole
in his affairs. And when he asked Parmetella where she had found
it, she said, "Take it, sir, and ask no questions, unless you would
spoil your good fortune." The next day she returned and did the
same; and she went on plucking the leaves from the tree until it
was entirely stript, as if it had been plundered by the winds of
Autumn. Then she perceived that the tree had a large golden root,
which she could not pull up with her hands; so she went home, and
fetching an axe set to work to lay bare the root around the foot of
the tree; and raising the trunk as well as she could, she found under
it a beautiful porphyry staircase.

Parmetella, who was curious beyond measure, went down the
stairs, and walking through a large and deep cavern, she came to a
beautiful plain, on which was a splendid palace, where only gold
and silver were trodden underfoot, and pearls and precious stones
everywhere met the eye. And as Parmetella stood wondering at all
these splendid things, not seeing any person moving among so
many beautiful fixtures, she went into a chamber, in which were a
number of pictures; and on them were seen painted various
beautiful things--especially the ignorance of man esteemed wise,
the injustice of him who held the scales, the injuries avenged by
Heaven--things truly to amaze one. And in the same chamber also
was a splendid table, set out with things to eat and to drink.

Seeing no one, Parmetella, who was very hungry, sat down at a
table to eat like a fine count; but whilst she was in the midst of the
feast, behold a handsome Slave entered, who said, "Stay! do not go
away, for I will have you for my wife, and will make you the
happiest woman in the world." In spite of her fear, Parmetella took
heart at this good offer, and consenting to what the Slave
proposed, a coach of diamonds was instantly given her, drawn by
four golden steeds, with wings of emeralds and rubies, who carried
her flying through the air to take an airing; and a number of apes,
clad in cloth of gold, were given to attend on her person, who
forthwith arrayed her from head to foot, and adorned her so that
she looked just like a Queen.

When night was come, and the Sun--desiring to sleep on the banks
of the river of India untroubled by gnats--had put out the light, the
Slave said to Parmetella, "My dear, now go to rest in this bed; but
remember first to put out the candle, and mind what I say, or ill
will betide you." Then Parmetella did as he told her; but no sooner
had she closed her eyes than the blackamoor, changing to a
handsome youth, lay down to sleep. But the next morning, ere the
Dawn went forth to seek fresh eggs in the fields of the sky the
youth arose and took his other form again, leaving Parmetella full
of wonder and curiosity.

And again the following night, when Parmetella went to rest, she
put out the candle as she had done the night before, and the youth
came as usual and lay down to sleep. But no sooner had he shut his
eyes than Parmetella arose, took a steel which she had provided,
and lighting the tinder applied a match; then taking the candle, she
raised the coverlet, and beheld the ebony turned to ivory, and the
coal to chalk. And whilst she stood gazing with open mouth, and
contemplating the most beautiful pencilling that Nature had ever
given upon the canvas of Wonder, the youth awoke, and began to
reproach Parmetella, saying, "Ah, woe is me! for your prying
curiosity I have to suffer another seven years this accursed
punishment. But begone! Run, scamper off! Take yourself out of
my sight! You know not what good fortune you lose." So saying,
he vanished like quicksilver.

The poor girl left the palace, cold and stiff with affright, and with
her head bowed to the ground. And when she had come out of the
cavern she met a fairy, who said to her, "My child, how my heart
grieves at your misfortune! Unhappy girl, you are going to the
slaughter-house, where you will pass over the bridge no wider than
a hair. Therefore, to provide against your peril, take these seven
spindles with these seven figs, and a little jar of honey, and these
seven pairs of iron shoes, and walk on and on without stopping,
until they are worn out; then you will see seven women standing
upon a balcony of a house, and spinning from above down to the
ground, with the thread wound upon the bone of a dead person.
Remain quite still and hidden, and when the thread comes down,
take out the bone and put in its place a spindle besmeared with
honey, with a fig in the place of the little button. Then as soon as
the women draw up the spindles and taste the honey, they 
will say--

      He who has made my spindle sweet,
     Shall in return with good fortune meet!'

And after repeating these words, they will say, one after another,
 O you who brought us these sweet things appear!' Then you must
answer,  Nay, for you will eat me.' And they will say,  We swear
by our spoon that we will not eat you!' But do not stir; and they
will continue,  We swear by our spit that we will not eat you!' But
stand firm, as if rooted to the spot; and they will say,  We swear by
our broom that we will not eat you!' Still do not believe them; and
when they say,  We swear by our pail that we will not eat you!'
shut your mouth, and say not a word, or it will cost you your life.
At last they will say,  We swear by Thunder-and-Lightning that we
will not eat you!' Then take courage and mount up, for they will
do you no harm."

When Parmetella heard this, she set off and walked over hill and
dale, until at the end of seven years the iron shoes were worn out;
and coming to a large house, with a projecting balcony, she saw
the seven women spinning. So she did as the fairy had advised her;
and after a thousand wiles and allurements, they swore by
Thunder-and-Lightning, whereupon she showed herself and
mounted up. Then they all seven said to her, "Traitress, you are the
cause that our brother has lived twice seven long years in the
cavern, far away from us, in the form of a blackamoor! But never
mind; although you have been clever enough to stop our throat
with the oath, you shall on the first opportunity pay off both the
old and the new reckoning. But now hear what you must do. Hide
yourself behind this trough, and when our mother comes, who
would swallow you down at once, rise up and seize her behind her
back; hold her fast, and do not let her go until she swears by
Thunder-and-Lightning not to harm you."

Parmetella did as she was bid, and after the ogress had sworn by
the fire-shovel, by the spinning-wheel, by the reel, by the
sideboard, and by the peg, at last she swore by 
Thunder-and-Lightning; whereupon Parmetella let go her hold, and
showed herself to the ogress, who said, "You have caught me this
time; but take care, Traitress! for, at the first shower, I'll send you
to the Lava."

One day the ogress, who was on the look-out for an opportunity to
devour Parmetella, took twelve sacks of various seeds
--peas, chick-peas, lentils, vetches, kidney-beans, beans, and
lupins--and mixed them all together; then she said to her,
"Traitress, take these seeds and sort them all, so that each kind
may be separated from the rest; and if they are not all sorted by
this evening, I'll swallow you like a penny tart."

Poor Parmetella sat down beside the sacks, weeping, and said, "O
mother, mother, how will this golden root prove a root of woes to
me! Now is my misery completed; by seeing a black face turned
white, all has become black before my eyes. Alas! I am ruined and
undone--there is no help for it. I already seem as if I were in the
throat of that horrid ogress; there is no one to help me, there is no
one to advise me, there is no one to comfort me!"

As she was lamenting thus, lo! Thunder-and-Lightning appeared
like a flash, for the banishment laid upon him by the spell had just
ended. Although he was angry with Parmetella, yet his blood could
not turn to water, and seeing her grieving thus he said to her,
"Traitress, what makes you weep so?" Then she told him of his
mother's ill-treatment of her, and her wish to make an end of her,
and eat her up. But Thunder-and-Lightning replied, "Calm yourself
and take heart, for it shall not be as she said." And instantly
scattering all the seeds on the ground he made a deluge of ants
spring up, who forthwith set to work to heap up all the seeds
separately, each kind by itself, and Parmetella filled the sacks with
them.

When the ogress came home and found the task done, she was
almost in despair, and cried, "That dog Thunder-and-Lightning 
has played me this trick; but you shall not escape thus! So take
these pieces of bed-tick, which are enough for twelve mattresses,
and mind that by this evening they are filled with feathers, or else I
will make mincemeat of you."

The poor girl took the bed-ticks, and sitting down upon the ground
began to weep and lament bitterly, making two fountains of her
eyes. But presently Thunder-and-Lightning appeared, and said to
her, "Do not weep, Traitress,--leave it to me, and I will bring you
to port; so let down your hair, spread the bed-ticks upon the
ground, and fall to weeping and wailing, and crying out that the
king of the birds is dead, then you'll see what will happen."

Parmetella did as she was told, and behold a cloud of birds
suddenly appeared that darkened the air; and flapping their wings
they let fall their feathers by basketfuls, so that in less than an hour
the mattresses were all filled. When the ogress came home and
saw the task done, she swelled up with rage till she almost burst,
saying, "Thunder-and-Lightning is determined to plague me, but
may I be dragged at an ape's tail if I let her escape!" Then she said
to Parmetella, "Run quickly to my sister's house, and tell her to
send me the musical instruments; for I have resolved that 
Thunder-and-Lightning shall marry, and we will make a feast fit
for a king." At the same time she sent to bid her sister, when the
poor girl came to ask for the instruments, instantly to kill and cook
her, and she would come and partake of the feast.

Parmetella, hearing herself ordered to perform an easier task, was
in great joy, thinking that the weather had begun to grow milder.
Alas, how crooked is human judgment! On the way she met
Thunder-and-Lightning, who, seeing her walking at a quick pace,
said to her, "Whither are you going, wretched girl? See you not
that you are on the way to the slaughter; that you are forging your
own fetters, and sharpening the knife and mixing the poison for
yourself; that you are sent to the ogress for her to swallow you?
But listen to me and fear not. Take this little loaf, this bundle of
hay, and this stone; and when you come to the house of my aunt,
you will find a bulldog, which will fly barking at you to bite you;
but give him this little loaf, and it will stop his throat. And when
you have passed the dog, you will meet a horse running loose,
which will run up to kick and trample on you; but give him the
hay, and you will clog his feet. At last you will come to a door,
banging to and fro continually; put this stone before it, and you
will stop its fury. Then mount upstairs and you find the ogress,
with a little child in her arms, and the oven ready heated to bake
you. Whereupon she will say to you,  Hold this little creature, and
wait here till I go and fetch the instruments.' But mind
--she will only go to whet her tusks, in order to tear you in pieces.
Then throw the little child into the oven without pity, take the
instruments which stand behind the door, and hie off before the
ogress returns, or else you are lost. The instruments are in a box,
but beware of opening it, or you will repent."

Parmetella did all that Thunder-and-Lightning told her; but on her
way back with the instruments she opened the box, and lo and
behold! they all flew out and about--here a flute, there a flageolet,
here a pipe, there a bagpipe, making a thousand different sounds in
the air, whilst Parmetella stood looking on and tearing her hair in
despair.

Meanwhile the ogress came downstairs, and not finding
Parmetella, she went to the window, and called out to the door,
"Crush that traitress!" But the door answered:

     "I will not use the poor girl ill,
     For she has made me at last stand still."

Then the ogress cried out to the horse, "Trample on the thief!" But
the horse replied:

     "Let the poor girl go her way,
     For she has given me the hay."

And lastly, the ogress called to the dog, saying, "Bite the rogue!"
But the dog answered:

     "I'll not hurt a hair of her head,
     For she it was who gave me the bread."

Now as Parmetella ran crying after the instruments, she met
Thunder-and-Lightning, who scolded her well, saying, "Traitress,
will you not learn at your cost that by your fatal curiosity you are
brought to this plight?" Then he called back the instruments with a
whistle, and shut them up again in the box, telling Parmetella to
take them to his mother. But when the ogress saw her, she cried
aloud, "O cruel fate! even my sister is against me, and refuses to
give me this pleasure."

Meanwhile the new bride arrived--a hideous pest, a compound of
ugliness, a harpy, an evil shade, a horror, a monster, a large tub,
who with a hundred flowers and boughs about her looked like a
newly opened inn. Then the ogress made a great banquet for her;
and being full of gall and malice, she had the table placed close to
a well, where she seated her seven daughters, each with a torch in
one hand; but she gave two torches to Parmetella, and made her sit
at the edge of the well, on purpose that, when she fell asleep, she
might tumble to the bottom.

Now whilst the dishes were passing to and fro, and their blood
began to get warm, Thunder-and-Lightning, who turned quite sick
at the sight of the new bride, said to Parmetella, "Traitress, do you
love me?" "Ay, to the top of the roof," she replied. And he
answered, "If you love me, give me a kiss." "Nay," said
Parmetella, "YOU indeed, who have such a pretty creature at your
side! Heaven preserve her to you a hundred years in health and
with plenty of sons!" Then the new bride answered, "It is very
clear that you are a simpleton, and would remain so were you to
live a hundred years, acting the prude as you do, and refusing to
kiss so handsome a youth, whilst I let a herdsman kiss me for a
couple of chestnuts."

At these words the bridegroom swelled with rage like a toad, so
that his food remained sticking in his throat; however, he put a
good face on the matter and swallowed the pill, intending to make
the reckoning and settle the balance afterwards. But when the
tables were removed, and the ogress and his sisters had gone away,
Thunder-and-Lightning said to the new bride, "Wife, did you see
this proud creature refuse me a kiss?" "She was a simpleton,"
replied the bride, "to refuse a kiss to such a handsome young man,
whilst I let a herdsman kiss me for a couple of chestnuts."

Thunder-and-Lightning could contain himself no longer; the
mustard got up into his nose, and with the flash of scorn and the
thunder of action, he seized a knife and stabbed the bride, and
digging a hole in the cellar he buried her. Then embracing
Parmetella he said to her, "You are my jewel, the flower of
women, the mirror of honour! Then turn those eyes upon me, give
me that hand, put out those lips, draw near to me, my heart! for I
will be yours as long as the world lasts."
 
The next morning, when the Sun aroused his fiery steeds from
their watery stable, and drove them to pasture on the fields sown
by the Dawn, the ogress came with fresh eggs for the newly
married couple, that the young wife might be able to say, "Happy
is she who marries and gets a mother-in-law!" But finding
Parmetella in the arms of her son, and hearing what had passed,
she ran to her sister, to concert some means of removing this thorn
from her eyes without her son's being able to prevent it. But when
she found that her sister, out of grief at the loss of her daughter,
had crept into the oven herself and was burnt, her despair was so
great, that from an ogress she became a ram, and butted her head
against the wall under she broke her pate. Then 
Thunder-and-Lightning made peace between Parmetella and her
sisters-in-law, and they all lived happy and content, finding the
saying come true, that--

     "Patience conquers all."



XXIX

SUN, MOON, AND TALIA

It is a well-known fact that the cruel man is generally his own
hangman; and he who throws stones at Heaven frequently comes
off with a broken head. But the reverse of the medal shows us that
innocence is a shield of fig-tree wood, upon which the sword of
malice is broken, or blunts its point; so that, when a poor man
fancies himself already dead and buried, he revives again in bone
and flesh, as you shall hear in the story which I am going to draw
from the cask of memory with the tap of my tongue.

There was once a great Lord, who, having a daughter born to him
named Talia, commanded the seers and wise men of his kingdom
to come and tell him her fortune; and after various counsellings
they came to the conclusion, that a great peril awaited her from a
piece of stalk in some flax. Thereupon he issued a command,
prohibiting any flax or hemp, or such-like thing, to be brought into
his house, hoping thus to avoid the danger. 

When Talia was grown up, and was standing one day at the
window, she saw an old woman pass by who was spinning. She
had never seen a distaff or a spindle, and being vastly pleased with
the twisting and twirling of the thread, her curiosity was so great
that she made the old woman come upstairs. Then, taking the
distaff in her hand, Talia began to draw out the thread, when, by
mischance, a piece of stalk in the flax getting under her 
finger-nail, she fell dead upon the ground; at which sight the old
woman hobbled downstairs as quickly as she could.

When the unhappy father heard of the disaster that had befallen
Talia, after weeping bitterly, he placed her in that palace in the
country, upon a velvet seat under a canopy of brocade; and
fastening the doors, he quitted for ever the place which had been
the cause of such misfortune to him, in order to drive all
remembrance of it from his mind.

Now, a certain King happened to go one day to the chase, and a
falcon escaping from him flew in at the window of that palace.
When the King found that the bird did not return at his call, he
ordered his attendants to knock at the door, thinking that the
palace was inhabited; and after knocking for some time, the King
ordered them to fetch a vine-dresser's ladder, wishing himself to
scale the house and see what was inside. Then he mounted the
ladder, and going through the whole palace, he stood aghast at not
finding there any living person. At last he came to the room where
Talia was lying, as if enchanted; and when the King saw her, he
called to her, thinking that she was asleep, but in vain, for she still
slept on, however loud he called. So, after admiring her beauty
awhile, the King returned home to his kingdom, where for a long
time he forgot all that had happened.

Meanwhile, two little twins, one a boy and the other a girl, who
looked like two little jewels, wandered, from I know not where,
into the palace and found Talia in a trance. At first they were
afraid because they tried in vain to awaken her; but, becoming
bolder, the girl gently took Talia's finger into her mouth, to bite it
and wake her up by this means; and so it happened that the splinter
of flax came out. Thereupon she seemed to awake as from a deep
sleep; and when she saw those little jewels at her side, she took
them to her heart, and loved them more than her life; but she
wondered greatly at seeing herself quite alone in the palace with
two children, and food and refreshment brought her by unseen
hands.

After a time the King, calling Talia to mind, took occasion one day
when he went to the chase to go and see her; and when he found
her awakened, and with two beautiful little creatures by her side,
he was struck dumb with rapture. Then the King told Talia who he
was, and they formed a great league and friendship, and he
remained there for several days, promising, as he took leave, to
return and fetch her.

When the King went back to his own kingdom he was for ever
repeating the names of Talia and the little ones, insomuch that,
when he was eating he had Talia in his mouth, and Sun and Moon
(for so he named the children); nay, even when he went to rest he
did not leave off calling on them, first one and then the other.

Now the King's stepmother had grown suspicious at his long
absence at the chase, and when she heard him calling thus on
Talia, Sun, and Moon, she waxed wroth, and said to the King's
secretary, "Hark ye, friend, you stand in great danger, between the
axe and the block; tell me who it is that my stepson is enamoured
of, and I will make you rich; but if you conceal the truth from me,
I'll make you rue it."

The man, moved on the one side by fear, and on the other pricked
by interest, which is a bandage to the eyes of honour, the blind of
justice, and an old horse-shoe to trip up good faith, told the Queen
the whole truth. Whereupon she sent the secretary in the King's
name to Talia, saying that he wished to see the children. Then
Talia sent them with great joy, but the Queen commanded the
cook to kill them, and serve them up in various ways for her
wretched stepson to eat.

Now the cook, who had a tender heart, seeing the two pretty little
golden pippins, took compassion on them, and gave them to his
wife, bidding her keep them concealed; then he killed and dressed
two little kids in a hundred different ways. When the King came,
the Queen quickly ordered the dishes served up; and the King fell
to eating with great delight, exclaiming, "How good this is! Oh,
how excellent, by the soul of my grandfather!" And the old Queen
all the while kept saying, "Eat away, for you know what you eat."
At first the King paid no attention to what she said; but at last,
hearing the music continue, he replied, "Ay, I know well enough
what I eat, for YOU brought nothing to the house." And at last,
getting up in a rage, he went off to a villa at a little distance to cool
his anger.

Meanwhile the Queen, not satisfied with what she had done, called
the secretary again, and sent him to fetch Talia, pretending that the
King wished to see her. At this summons Talia went that very
instant, longing to see the light of her eyes, and not knowing that
only the smoke awaited her. But when she came before the Queen,
the latter said to her, with the face of a Nero, and full of poison as
a viper, "Welcome, Madam Sly-cheat! Are you indeed the pretty
mischief-maker? Are you the weed that has caught my son's eye
and given me all this trouble."

When Talia heard this she began to excuse herself; but the Queen
would not listen to a word; and having a large fire lighted in the
courtyard, she commanded that Talia should be thrown into the
flames. Poor Talia, seeing matters come to a bad pass, fell on her
knees before the Queen, and besought her at least to grant her time
to take the clothes from off her back. Whereupon the Queen, not
so much out of pity for the unhappy girl, as to get possession of her
dress, which was embroidered all over with gold and pearls, said to
her, "Undress yourself--I allow you." Then Talia began to undress,
and as she took off each garment she uttered an exclamation of
grief; and when she had stripped off her cloak, her gown, and her
jacket, and was proceeding to take off her petticoat, they seized
her and were dragging her away. At that moment the King came
up, and seeing the spectacle he demanded to know the whole truth;
and when he asked also for the children, and heard that his
stepmother had ordered them to be killed, the unhappy King gave
himself up to despair.

He then ordered her to be thrown into the same fire which had
been lighted for Talia, and the secretary with her, who was the
handle of this cruel game and the weaver of this wicked web. Then
he was going to do the same with the cook, thinking that he had
killed the children; but the cook threw himself at the King's feet
and said, "Truly, sir King, I would desire no other sinecure in
return for the service I have done you than to be thrown into a
furnace full of live coals; I would ask no other gratuity than the
thrust of a spike; I would wish for no other amusement than to be
roasted in the fire; I would desire no other privilege than to have
the ashes of the cook mingled with those of a Queen. But I look for
no such great reward for having saved the children, and brought
them back to you in spite of that wicked creature who wished to
kill them"

When the King heard these words he was quite beside himself; he
appeared to dream, and could not believe what his ears had heard.
Then he said to the cook, "If it is true that you have saved the
children, be assured I will take you from turning the spit, and
reward you so that you shall call yourself the happiest man in the
world."

As the King was speaking these words, the wife of the cook, seeing
the dilemma her husband was in, brought Sun and Moon before
the King, who, playing at the game of three with Talia and the
other children, went round and round kissing first one and then
another. Then giving the cook a large reward, he made him his
chamberlain; and he took Talia to wife, who enjoyed a long life
with her husband and the children, acknowledging 
that--

     "He who has luck may go to bed,
     And bliss will rain upon his head."



XXX

NENNILLO AND NENNELLA

Woe to him who thinks to find a governess for his children by
giving them a stepmother! He only brings into his house the cause
of their ruin. There never yet was a stepmother who looked kindly
on the children of another; or if by chance such a one were ever
found, she would be regarded as a miracle, and be called a white
crow. But beside all those of whom you may have heard, I will
now tell you of another, to be added to the list of heartless
stepmothers, whom you will consider well deserving the
punishment she purchased for herself with ready money.

There was once a good man named Jannuccio, who had two
children, Nennillo and Nennella, whom he loved as much as his
own life. But Death having, with the smooth file of Time, severed
the prison-bars of his wife's soul, he took to himself a cruel
woman, who had no sooner set foot in his house than she began to
ride the high horse, saying, "Am I come here indeed to look after
other folk's children? A pretty job I have undertaken, to have all
this trouble and be for ever teased by a couple of squalling brats!
Would that I had broken my neck ere I ever came to this place, to
have bad food, worse drink, and get no sleep at night! Here's a life
to lead! Forsooth I came as a wife, and not as a servant; but I must
find some means of getting rid of these creatures, or it will cost me
my life: better to blush once than to grow pale a hundred times; so
I've done with them, for I am resolved to send them away, or to
leave the house myself for ever."

The poor husband, who had some affection for this woman, said to
her, "Softly, wife! Don't be angry, for sugar is dear; and 
to-morrow morning, before the cock crows, I will remove this
annoyance in order to please you." So the next morning, ere the
Dawn had hung out the red counterpane at the window of the East
to air it, Jannuccio took the children, one by each hand, and with a
good basketful of things to eat upon his arm, he led them to a
wood, where an army of poplars and beech-trees were holding the
shades besieged. Then Jannuccio said, "My little children, stay
here in this wood, and eat and drink merrily; but if you want
anything, follow this line of ashes which I have been strewing as
we came along; this will be a clue to lead you out of the labyrinth
and bring you straight home." Then giving them both a kiss, he
returned weeping to his house.

But at the hour when all creatures, summoned by the constables of
Night, pay to Nature the tax of needful repose, the two children
began to feel afraid at remaining in that lonesome place, where the
waters of a river, which was thrashing the impertinent stones for
obstructing its course, would have frightened even a hero. So they
went slowly along the path of ashes, and it was already midnight
ere they reached their home. When Pascozza, their stepmother,
saw the children, she acted not like a woman, but a perfect fury;
crying aloud, wringing her hands, stamping with her feet, snorting
like a frightened horse, and exclaiming, "What fine piece of work
is this? Is there no way of ridding the house of these creatures? Is it
possible, husband, that you are determined to keep them here to
plague my very life out? Go, take them out of my sight! I'll not
wait for the crowing of cocks and the cackling of hens; or else be
assured that to-morrow morning I'll go off to my parents' house,
for you do not deserve me. I have not brought you so many fine
things, only to be made the slave of children who are not my own."

Poor Jannuccio, who saw that matters were growing rather too
warm, immediately took the little ones and returned to the wood;
where giving the children another basketful of food, he said to
them, "You see, my dears, how this wife of mine--who is come to
my house to be your ruin and a nail in my heart--hates you;
therefore remain in this wood, where the trees, more
compassionate, will give you shelter from the sun; where the river,
more charitable, will give you drink without poison; and the earth,
more kind, will give you a pillow of grass without danger. And
when you want food, follow this little path of bran which I have
made for you in a straight line, and you can come and seek what
you require." So saying, he turned away his face, not to let himself
be seen to weep and dishearten the poor little creatures.

When Nennillo and Nennella had eaten all that was in the basket,
they wanted to return home; but alas! a jackass--the son of 
ill-luck--had eaten up all the bran that was strewn upon the ground;
so they lost their way, and wandered about forlorn in the wood for
several days, feeding on acorns and chestnuts which they found
fallen on the ground. But as Heaven always extends its arm over
the innocent, there came by chance a Prince to hunt in that wood.
Then Nennillo, hearing the baying of the hounds, was so
frightened that he crept into a hollow tree; and Nennella set off
running at full speed, and ran until she came out of the wood, and
found herself on the seashore. Now it happened that some pirates,
who had landed there to get fuel, saw Nennella and carried her off;
and their captain took her home with him where he and his wife,
having just lost a little girl, took her as their daughter.

Meantime Nennillo, who had hidden himself in the tree, was
surrounded by the dogs, which made such a furious barking that
the Prince sent to find out the cause; and when he discovered the
pretty little boy, who was so young that he could not tell who were
his father and mother, he ordered one of the huntsmen to set him
upon his saddle and take him to the royal palace. Then he had him
brought up with great care, and instructed in various arts, and
among others, he had him taught that of a carver; so that, before
three or four years had passed, Nennillo became so expert in his
art that he could carve a joint to a hair.

Now about this time it was discovered that the captain of the ship
who had taken Nennella to his house was a sea-robber, and the
people wished to take him prisoner; but getting timely notice from
the clerks in the law-courts, who were his friends, and whom he
kept in his pay, he fled with all his family. It was decreed,
however, perhaps by the judgment of Heaven, that he who had
committed his crimes upon the sea, upon the sea should suffer the
punishment of them; for having embarked in a small boat, no
sooner was he upon the open sea than there came such a storm of
wind and tumult of the waves, that the boat was upset and all were
drowned--all except Nennella, who having had no share in the
corsair's robberies, like his wife and children, escaped the danger;
for just then a large enchanted fish, which was swimming about
the boat, opened its huge throat and swallowed her down.

The little girl now thought to herself that her days were surely at
an end, when suddenly she found a thing to amaze her inside the
fish,--beautiful fields and fine gardens, and a splendid mansion,
with all that heart could desire, in which she lived like a Princess.
Then she was carried quickly by the fish to a rock, where it
chanced that the Prince had come to escape the burning heat of a
summer, and to enjoy the cool sea-breezes. And whilst a great
banquet was preparing, Nennillo had stepped out upon a balcony
of the palace on the rock to sharpen some knives, priding himself
greatly on acquiring honour from his office. When Nennella saw
him through the fish's throat, she cried aloud,

     "Brother, brother, your task is done,
     The tables are laid out every one;
     But here in the fish I must sit and sigh,
     O brother, without you I soon shall die."

Nennillo at first paid no attention to the voice, but the Prince, who
was standing on another balcony and had also heard it, turned in
the direction whence the sound came, and saw the fish. And when
he again heard the same words, he was beside himself with
amazement, and ordered a number of servants to try whether by
any means they could ensnare the fish and draw it to land. At last,
hearing the words "Brother, brother!" continually repeated, he
asked all his servants, one by one, whether any of them had lost a
sister. And Nennillo replied, that he recollected, as a dream,
having had a sister when the Prince found him in the wood, but
that he had never since heard any tidings of her. Then the Prince
told him to go nearer to the fish, and see what was the matter, for
perhaps this adventure might concern him. As soon as Nennillo
approached the fish, it raised up its head upon the rock, and
opening its throat six palms wide, Nennella stepped out, so
beautiful that she looked just like a nymph in some interlude,
come forth from that animal at the incantation of a magician. And
when the Prince asked her how it had all happened, she told him a
part of her sad story, and the hatred of their stepmother; but not
being able to recollect the name of their father nor of their home,
the Prince caused a proclamation to be issued, commanding that
whoever had lost two children, named Nennillo and Nennella, in a
wood, should come to the royal palace, and he would there receive
joyful news of them.

Jannuccio, who had all this time passed a sad and disconsolate life,
believing that his children had been devoured by wolves, now
hastened with the greatest joy to seek the Prince, and told him that
he had lost the children. And when he had related the story, how
he had been compelled to take them to the wood, the Prince gave
him a good scolding, calling him a blockhead for allowing a
woman to put her heel upon his neck till he was brought to send
away two such jewels as his children. But after he had broken
Jannuccio's head with these words, he applied to it the plaster of
consolation, showing him the children, whom the father embraced
and kissed for half an hour without being satisfied. Then the Prince
made him pull off his jacket, and had him dressed like a lord; and
sending for Jannuccio's wife, he showed her those two golden
pippins, asked her what that person would deserve who should do
them any harm, and even endanger their lives. And she replied,
"For my part, I would put her into a closed cask, and send her
rolling down a mountain."

"So it shall be done!" said the Prince. "The goat has butted at
herself. Quick now! you have passed the sentence, and you must
suffer it, for having borne these beautiful stepchildren such
malice." So he gave orders that the sentence should be instantly
executed. Then choosing a very rich lord among his vassals, he
gave him Nennella to wife, and the daughter of another great lord
to Nennillo; allowing them enough to live upon, with their father,
so that they wanted for nothing in the world. But the stepmother,
shut into the cask and shut out from life, kept on crying through
the bunghole as long as she had breath--

     "To him who mischief seeks, shall mischief fall;
     There comes an hour that recompenses all."



XXXI

THE THREE CITRONS

Well was it in truth said by the wise man, "Do not say all you
know, nor do all you are able"; for both one and the other bring
unknown danger and unforeseen ruin; as you shall hear of a certain
slave (be it spoken with all reverence for my lady the Princess),
who, after doing all the injury in her power to a poor girl, came off
so badly in the court, that she was the judge of her own crime, and
sentenced herself to the punishment she deserved.

The King of Long-Tower had once a son, who was the apple of his
eye, and on whom he had built all his hopes; and he longed
impatiently for the time when he should find some good match for
him. But the Prince was so averse to marriage and so obstinate
that, whenever a wife was talked of, he shook his head and wished
himself a hundred miles off; so that the poor King, finding his son
stubborn and perverse, and foreseeing that his race would come to
an end, was more vexed and melancholy, cast down and out of
spirits, than a merchant whose correspondent has become
bankrupt, or a peasant whose ass has died. Neither could the tears
of his father move the Prince, nor the entreaties of the courtiers
soften him, nor the counsel of wise men make him change his
mind; in vain they set before his eyes the wishes of his father, the
wants of the people, and his own interest, representing to him that
he was the full-stop in the line of the royal race; for with the
obstinacy of Carella and the stubbornness of an old mule with a
skin four fingers thick, he had planted his foot resolutely, stopped
his ears, and closed his heart against all assaults. But as frequently
more comes to pass in an hour than in a hundred years, and no one
can say, Stop here or go there, it happened that one day, when all
were at table, and the Prince was cutting a piece of 
new-made cheese, whilst listening to the chit-chat that was going
on, he accidentally cut his finger; and two drops of blood, falling
upon the cheese, made such a beautiful mixture of colours 
that--either it was a punishment inflicted by Love, or the will of
Heaven to console the poor father--the whim seized the Prince to
find a woman exactly as white and red as that cheese tinged with
blood. Then he said to his father, "Sir, unless I have a wife as
white and red as this cheese, it is all over with me; so now resolve,
if you wish to see me alive and well, to give me all I require to go
through the world in search of a beauty exactly like this cheese, or
else I shall end my life and die by inches."

When the King heard this mad resolution, he thought the house
was falling about his ears; his colour came and went, but as soon
as he recovered himself and could speak, he said, "My son, the life
of my soul, the core of my heart, the prop of my old age, what
mad-brained fancy has made you take leave of your senses? Have
you lost your wits? You want either all or nothing: first you wish
not to marry, on purpose to deprive me of an heir, and now you are
impatient to drive me out of the world. Whither, O whither would
you go wandering about, wasting your life? And why leave your
house, your hearth, your home? You know not what toils and peril
he brings on himself who goes rambling and roving. Let this whim
pass, my son; be sensible, and do not wish to see my life worn out,
this house fall to the ground, my household go to ruin."

But these and other words went in at one ear and out at the other,
and were all cast upon the sea; and the poor King, seeing that his
son was as immovable as a rook upon a belfry, gave him a handful
of dollars and two or three servants; and bidding him farewell, he
felt as if his soul was torn out of his body. Then weeping bitterly,
he went to a balcony, and followed his son with his eyes until he
was lost to sight.

The Prince departed, leaving his unhappy father to his grief, and
hastened on his way through fields and woods, over mountain and
valley, hill and plain, visiting various countries, and mixing with
various peoples, and always with his eyes wide awake to see
whether he could find the object of his desire. At the end of several
months he arrived at the coast of France, where, leaving his
servants at a hospital with sore feet, he embarked alone in a
Genoese boat, and set out towards the Straits of Gibraltar.  There
he took a larger vessel and sailed for the Indies, seeking
everywhere, from kingdom to kingdom, from province to province,
from country to country, from street to street, from house to house,
in every hole and corner, whether he could find the original
likeness of that beautiful image which he had pictured to his heart.
And he wandered about and about until at length he came to the
Island of the Ogresses, where he cast anchor and landed. There he
found an old, old woman, withered and shrivelled up, and with a
hideous face, to whom he related the reason that had brought him
to the country. The old woman was beside herself with amazement
when she heard the strange whim and the fancy of the Prince, and
the toils and perils he had gone through to satisfy himself; then she
said to him, "Hasten away, my son! for if my three daughters meet
you I would not give a farthing for your life; half-alive and 
half-roasted, a frying-pan would be your bier and a belly your
grave. But away with you as fast as a hare, and you will not go far
before you find what you are seeking!"

When the Prince heard this, frightened, terrified, and aghast, he set
off running at full speed, and ran till he came to another country,
where he again met an old woman, more ugly even than the first,
to whom he told all his story. Then the old woman said to him in
like manner, "Away with you! unless you wish to serve as a
breakfast to the little ogresses my daughters; but go straight on,
and you will soon find what you want."

The Prince, hearing this, set off running as fast as a dog with a
kettle at its tail; and he went on and on, until he met another old
woman, who was sitting upon a wheel, with a basket full of little
pies and sweetmeats on her arm, and feeding a number of
jackasses, which thereupon began leaping about on the bank of a
river and kicking at some poor swans. When the Prince came up to
the old woman, after making a hundred salaams, he related to her
the story of his wanderings; whereupon the old woman, comforting
him with kind words, gave him such a good breakfast that he
licked his fingers after it. And when he had done eating she gave
him three citrons, which seemed to be just fresh gathered from the
tree; and she gave him also a beautiful knife, saying, "You are now
free to return to Italy, for your labour is ended, and you have what
you were seeking. Go your way, therefore, and when you are near
your own kingdom stop at the first fountain you come to and cut a
citron. Then a fairy will come forth from it, and will say to you,
 Give me to drink.' Mind and be ready with the water or she will
vanish like quicksilver. But if you are not quick enough with the
second fairy, have your eyes open and be watchful that the third
does not escape you, giving her quickly to drink, and you shall
have a wife after your own heart."

The Prince, overjoyed, kissed the old woman's hairy hand a
hundred times, which seemed just like a hedgehog's back. Then
taking his leave he left that country, and coming to the seashore
sailed for the Pillars of Hercules, and arrived at our Sea, and after
a thousand storms and perils, he entered port a day's distance from
his own kingdom. There he came to a most beautiful grove, where
the Shades formed a palace for the Meadows, to prevent their
being seen by the sun; and dismounting at a fountain, which, with
a crystal tongue, was inviting the people to refresh their lips, he
seated himself on a Syrian carpet formed by the plants and
flowers. Then he drew his knife from the sheath and began to cut
the first citron, when lo! there appeared like a flash of lightning a
most beautiful maiden, white as milk and red as a strawberry, who
said, "Give me to drink!" The Prince was so amazed, bewildered,
and captivated with the beauty of the fairy that he did not give her
the water quick enough, so she appeared and vanished at one and
the same moment. Whether this was a rap on the Prince's head, let
any one judge who, after longing for a thing, gets it into his hands
and instantly loses it again.

Then the Prince cut the second citron, and the same thing
happened again; and this was a second blow he got on his pate; so
making two little fountains of his eyes, he wept, face to face, tear
for tear, drop for drop, with the fountain, and sighing he
exclaimed, "Good heavens, how is it that I am so unfortunate?
Twice I have let her escape, as if my hands were tied; and here I sit
like a rock, when I ought to run like a greyhound. Faith indeed I
have made a fine hand of it! But courage, man! there is still
another, and three is the lucky number; either this knife shall give
me the fay, or it shall take my life away." So saying he cut the
third citron, and forth came the third fairy, who said like the
others, "Give me to drink." Then the Prince instantly handed her
the water; and behold there stood before him a delicate maiden,
white as a junket with red streaks,--a thing never before seen in the
world, with a beauty beyond compare, a fairness beyond the
beyonds, a grace more than the most. On that hair Jove had
showered down gold, of which Love made his shafts to pierce all
hearts; that face the god of Love had tinged with red, that some
innocent soul should be hung on the gallows of desire; at those
eyes the sun had lighted two fireworks, to set fire to the rockets of
sighs in the breast of the beholder; to the roses on those lips Venus
had given their colour, to wound a thousand enamoured hearts
with their thorns. In a word, she was so beautiful from head to
foot, that a more exquisite creature was never seen. The Prince
knew not what had happened to him, and stood lost in amazement,
gazing on such a beautiful offspring of a citron; and he said to
himself, "Are you asleep or awake, Ciommetiello? Are your eyes
bewitched, or are you blind? What fair white creature is this come
forth from a yellow rind? What sweet fruit, from the sour juice of a
citron? What lovely maiden sprung from a citron-pip?"

At length, seeing that it was all true and no dream, he embraced
the fairy, giving her a hundred and a hundred kisses; and after a
thousand tender words had passed between them--words which, as
a setting, had an accompaniment of sugared kisses--the Prince
said, "My soul, I cannot take you to my father's kingdom without
handsome raiment worthy of so beautiful a person, and an
attendance befitting a Queen; therefore climb up into this 
oak-tree, where Nature seems purposely to have made for us a
hiding-place in the form of a little room, and here await my return;
for I will come back on wings, before a tear can be dry, with
dresses and servants, and carry you off to my kingdom." So saying,
after the usual ceremonies, he departed.

Now a black slave, who was sent by her mistress with a pitcher to
fetch water, came to the well, and seeing by chance the reflection
of the fairy in the water, she thought it was herself, and exclaimed
in amazement, "Poor Lucia, what do I see? Me so pretty and fair,
and mistress send me here. No, me will no longer bear." So saying
she broke the pitcher and returned home; and when her mistress
asked her, "Why have you done this mischief?" she replied, "Me
go to the well alone, pitcher break upon a stone." Her mistress
swallowed this idle story, and the next day she gave her a pretty
little cask, telling her to go and fill it with water. So the slave
returned to the fountain, and seeing again the beautiful image
reflected in the water, she said with a deep sigh, "Me no ugly
slave, me no broad-foot goose, but pretty and fine as mistress
mine, and me not go to the fountain!" So saying, smash again! she
broke the cask into seventy pieces, and returned grumbling home,
and said to her mistress, "Ass come past, tub fell down at the well,
and all was broken in pieces." The poor mistress, on hearing this,
could contain herself no longer, and seizing a broomstick she beat
the slave so soundly that she felt it for many days; then giving her
a leather bag, she said, "Run, break your neck, you wretched slave,
you grasshopper-legs, you black beetle! Run and fetch me this bag
full of water, or else I'll hang you like a dog, and give you a good
thrashing."

Away ran the slave heels over head, for she had seen the flash and
dreaded the thunder; and while she was filling the leather bag, she
turned to look again at the beautiful image, and said, "Me fool to
fetch water! better live by one's wits; such a pretty girl indeed to
serve a bad mistress!" So saying, she took a large pin which she
wore in her hair, and began to pick holes in the leather bag, which
looked like an open place in a garden with the rose of a 
watering-pot making a hundred little fountains. When the fairy saw
this she laughed outright; and the slave hearing her, turned and
espied her hiding-place up in the tree; whereat she said to herself,
"O ho! you make me be beaten? but never mind!" Then she said to
her, "What you doing up there, pretty lass?" And the fairy, who
was the very mother of courtesy, told her all she knew, and all that
had passed with the Prince, whom she was expecting from hour to
hour and from moment to moment, with fine dresses and servants,
to take her with him to his father's kingdom where they would live
happy together.

When the slave, who was full of spite, heard this, she thought to
herself that she would get this prize into her own hands; so she
answered the fairy, "You expect your husband,--me come up and
comb your locks, and make you more smart." And the fairy said,
"Ay, welcome as the first of May!" So the slave climbed up the
tree, and the fairy held out her white hand to her, which looked in
the black paws of the slave like a crystal mirror in a frame of
ebony. But no sooner did the slave begin to comb the fairy's locks,
than she suddenly stuck a hairpin into her head. Then the fairy,
feeling herself pricked, cried out, "Dove, dove!" and instantly she
became a dove and flew away; whereupon the slave stripped
herself, and making a bundle of all the rags that she had worn, she
threw them a mile away; and there she sat, up in the tree, looking
like a statue of jet in a house of emerald.

In a short time the Prince returned with a great cavalcade, and
finding a cask of caviar where he had left a pan of milk, he stood
for awhile beside himself with amazement. At length he said,
"Who has made this great blot of ink on the fine paper upon which
I thought to write the brightest days of my life? Who has hung with
mourning this newly white-washed house, where I thought to
spend a happy life? How comes it that I find this touchstone,
where I left a mine of silver, that was to make me rich and happy?"
But the crafty slave, observing the Prince's amazement, said, "Do
not wonder, my Prince; for me turned by a wicked spell from a
white lily to a black coal."

The poor Prince, seeing that there was no help for the mischief,
drooped his head and swallowed this pill; and bidding the slave
come down from the tree, he ordered her to be clothed from head
to foot in new dresses. Then sad and sorrowful, cast-down and
woe-begone, he took his way back with the slave to his own
country, where the King and Queen, who had gone out six miles to
meet them, received them with the same pleasure as a prisoner
feels at the announcement of a sentence of hanging, seeing the fine
choice their foolish son had made, who after travelling about so
long to find a white dove had brought home at last a black crow.
However, as they could do no less, they gave up the crown to their
children, and placed the golden tripod upon that face of coal.

Now whilst they were preparing splendid feasts and banquets, and
the cooks were busy plucking geese, killing little pigs, flaying kids,
basting the roast meat, skimming pots, mincing meat for
dumplings, larding capons, and preparing a thousand other
delicacies, a beautiful dove came flying to the kitchen window,
and said,

     "O cook of the kitchen, tell me, I pray,
     What the King and the slave are doing to-day."

The cook at first paid little heed to the dove; but when she
returned a second and a third time, and repeated the same words,
he ran to the dining-hall to tell the marvellous thing. But no sooner
did the lady hear this music than she gave orders for the dove to be
instantly caught and made into a hash. So the cook went, and he
managed to catch the dove, and did all that the slave had
commanded. And having scalded the bird in order to pluck it, he
threw the water with the feathers out from a balcony on to a
garden-bed, on which, before three days had passed, there sprang
up a beautiful citron-tree, which quickly grew to its full size.

Now it happened that the King, going by chance to a window that
looked upon the garden, saw the tree, which he had never observed
before; and calling the cook, he asked him when and by whom it
had been planted. No sooner had he heard all the particulars from
Master Pot-ladle, than he began to suspect how matters stood. So
he gave orders, under pain of death, that the tree should not be
touched, but that it should be tended with the greatest care.

At the end of a few days three most beautiful citrons appeared,
similar to those which the ogress had given Ciommetiello. And
when they were grown larger, he plucked them; and shutting
himself up in a chamber, with a large basin of water and the knife,
which he always carried at his side, he began to cut the citrons.
Then it all fell out with the first and second fairy just as it had
done before; but when at last he cut the third citron, and gave the
fairy who came forth from it to drink, behold, there stood before
him the self-same maiden whom he had left up in the tree, and
who told him all the mischief that the slave had done.

Who now can tell the least part of the delight the King felt at this
good turn of fortune? Who can describe the shouting and leaping
for joy that there was? For the King was swimming in a sea of
delight, and was wafted to Heaven on a tide of rapture. Then he
embraced the fairy, and ordered her to be handsomely dressed
from head to foot; and taking her by the hand he led her into the
middle of the hall, where all the courtiers and great folks of the
city were met to celebrate the feast. Then the King called on them
one by one, and said, "Tell me, what punishment would that
person deserve who should do any harm to this beautiful lady!"
And one replied that such a person would deserve a hempen collar;
another, a breakfast of stones; a third, a good beating; a fourth, a
draught of poison; a fifth, a millstone for a brooch--in short, one
said this thing and another that. At last he called on the black
Queen, and putting the same question, she replied, "Such a person
would deserve to be burned, and that her ashes should be thrown
from the roof of the castle."

When the King heard this, he said to her, "You have struck your
own foot with the axe, you have made your own fetters, you have
sharpened the knife and mixed the poison; for no one has done this
lady so much harm as yourself, you good-for-nothing creature!
Know you that this is the beautiful maiden whom you wounded
with the hairpin? Know you that this is the pretty dove which you
ordered to be killed and cooked in a stewpan? What say you now?
It is all your own doing; and one who does ill may expect ill in
return." So saying, he ordered the slave to be seized and cast alive
on to a large burning pile of wood; and her ashes were thrown
from the top of the castle to all the winds of Heaven, verifying the
truth of the saying that--

     "He who sows thorns should not go barefoot."



XXXII

CONCLUSION

All sat listening to Ciommetella's last story. Some praised the skill
with which she had told it, while others murmured at her
indiscretion, saying that, in the presence of the Princess, she ought
not to have exposed to blame the ill-deeds of another slave, and
run the risk of stopping the game. But Lucia herself sat upon
thorns, and kept turning and twisting herself about all the time the
story was being told; insomuch that the restlessness of her body
betrayed the storm that was in her heart, at seeing in the tale of
another slave the exact image of her own deceit. Gladly would she
have dismissed the whole company, but that, owing to the desire
which the doll had given her to hear stories, she could not restrain
her passion for them. And, partly also not to give Taddeo cause for
suspicion, she swallowed this bitter pill, intending to take a good
revenge in proper time and place. But Taddeo, who had grown
quite fond of the amusement, made a sign to Zoza to relate her
story; and, after making her curtsey, she began--

"Truth, my Lord Prince, has always been the mother of hatred, and
I would not wish, therefore, by obeying your commands, to offend
any one of those about me. But as I am not accustomed to weave
fictions or to invent stories, I am constrained, both by nature and
habit, to speak the truth; and, although the proverb says, Tell truth
and fear nothing, yet knowing well that truth is not welcome in the
presence of princes, I tremble lest I say anything that may offend
you."

"Say all you wish," replied Taddeo, "for nothing but what is sweet
can come from those pretty lips."

These words were stabs to the heart of the Slave, as all would have
seen plainly if black faces were, as white ones, the book of the
soul. And she would have given a finger of her hand to have been
rid of these stories, for all before her eyes had grown blacker even
than her face. She feared that the last story was only the 
fore-runner of mischief to follow; and from a cloudy morning she
foretold a bad day. But Zoza, meanwhile, began to enchant all
around her with the sweetness of her words, relating her sorrows
from first to last, and beginning with her natural melancholy, the
unhappy augury of all she had to suffer. Then she went on to tell of
the old woman's curse, her painful wanderings, her arrival at the
fountain, her bitter weeping, and the treacherous sleep which had
been the cause of her ruin.

The Slave, hearing Zoza tell the story in all its breadth and length,
and seeing the boat go out of its course, exclaimed, "Be quiet and
hold your tongue! or I will not answer for the consequences." But
Taddeo, who had discovered how matters stood, could no longer
contain himself; so, stripping off the mask and throwing the saddle
on the ground, he exclaimed, "Let her tell her story to the end, and
have done with this nonsense. I have been made a fool of for long
enough, and, if what I suspect is true, it were better that you had
never been born." Then he commanded Zoza to continue her story
in spite of his wife; and Zoza, who only waited for the sign, went
on to tell how the Slave had found the pitcher and had
treacherously robbed her of her good fortune. And, thereupon, she
fell to weeping in such a manner, that every person present was
affected at the sight.

Taddeo, who, from Zoza's tears and the Slave's silence, discerned
the truth of the matter, gave Lucia a rare scolding, and made her
confess her treachery with her own lips. Then he gave instant
orders that she should be buried alive up to her neck, that she
might die a more painful death. And, embracing Zoza, he caused
her to be treated with all honour as his Princess and wife, sending
to invite the King of Wood-Valley to come to the feast.

With these fresh nuptials terminated the greatness of the Slave and
the amusement of these stories. And much good may they do you,
and promote your health! And may you lay them down as
unwillingly as I do, taking my leave with regret at my heels and a
good spoonful of honey in my mouth.





End of Project Gutenberg Etexts from Pentamerone, by Giambattista Basile

