{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_2198/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_2198","id":"gutenberg_2198","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2198","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Folklore -- Italy"],"text":"Produced by Batsy Bybell.  HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nStories from Pentamerone\n\n\nby\n\nGiambattista Basile\n\n\n\n\nNOTE\n\nThe collection of folk-tales known as Il Pentamerone was first\npublished at Naples and in the Neopolitan dialect, by Giambattista\nBasile, Conte di Torrone, who is believed to have collected them\nchiefly in Crete and Venice, and to have died about the year 1637.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n  1.  How the Tales came to be told\n  2.  The Myrtle\n  3.  Peruonto\n  4.  Vardiello\n  5.  The Flea\n  6.  Cenerentola\n  7.  The Merchant\n  8.  Goat-Face\n  9.  The Enchanted Doe\n 10. Parsley\n 11. The Three Sisters\n 12. Violet\n 13. Pippo\n 14. The Serpent\n 15. The She-Bear\n 16. The Dove\n 17. Cannetella\n 18. Corvetto\n 19. The Booby\n 20. The Stone in the Cock's Head\n 21. The Three Enchanted Princes\n 22. The Dragon\n 23. The Two Cakes\n 24. The Seven Doves\n 25. The Raven\n 26. The Months\n 27. Pintosmalto\n 28. The Golden Root\n 29. Sun, Moon, and Talia\n 30. Nennillo and Nennella\n 31. The Three Citrons\n 32. Conclusion\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nHOW THE TALES CAME TO BE TOLD\n\nIt is an old saying, that he who seeks what he should not, finds what\nhe would not. Every one has heard of the ape who, in trying to pull on\nhis boots, was caught by the foot. And it happened in like manner to a\nwretched slave, who, although she never had shoes to her feet, wanted\nto wear a crown on her head. But the straight road is the best; and,\nsooner or later, a day comes which settles all accounts. At last,\nhaving by evil means usurped what belonged to another, she fell to the\nground; and the higher she had mounted, the greater was her fall--as\nyou shall see.\n\n\nOnce upon a time the King of Woody Valley had a daughter named Zoza,\nwho was never seen to laugh. The unhappy father, who had no other\ncomfort in life but this only daughter, left nothing untried to drive\naway her melancholy. So he sent for folks who walk on stilts, fellows\nwho jump through hoops, for boxers, for conjurers, for jugglers who\nperform sleight-of-hand tricks, for strong men, for dancing dogs, for\nleaping clowns, for the donkey that drinks out of a tumbler--in short,\nhe tried first one thing and then another to make her laugh. But all\nwas time lost, for nothing could bring a smile to her lips.\n\nSo at length the poor father, at wit's end, and to make a last trial,\nordered a large fountain of oil to be set in front of the palace gates,\nthinking to himself that when the oil ran down the street, along which\nthe people passed like a troop of ants, they would be obliged, in order\nnot to soil their clothes, to skip like grasshoppers, leap like goats,\nand run like hares; while one would go picking and choosing his way,\nand another go creeping along the wall. In short, he hoped that\nsomething might come to pass to make his daughter laugh.\n\nSo the fountain was made; and as Zoza was one day standing at the\nwindow, grave and demure, and looking as sour as vinegar, there came by\nchance an old woman, who, soaking up the oil with a sponge, began to\nfill a little pitcher which she had brought with her. And as she was\nlabouring hard at this ingenious device, a young page of the court\npassing by threw a stone so exactly to a hair that he hit the pitcher\nand broke it to pieces. Whereupon the old woman, who had no hair on her\ntongue, turned to the page, full of wrath, and exclaimed, \"Ah, you\nimpertinent young dog, you mule, you gallows-rope, you spindle-legs!\nIll luck to you! May you be pierced by a Catalan lance! May a thousand\nills befall you and something more to boot, you thief, you knave!\"\n\nThe lad, who had little beard and less discretion, hearing this string\nof abuse, repaid the old woman in her own coin, saying, \"Have you done,\nyou grandmother of witches, you old hag, you child-strangler!\"\n\nWhen the old woman heard these compliments she flew into such a rage\nthat, losing hold of the bridle and escaping from the stable of\npatience, she acted as if she were mad, cutting capers in the air and\ngrinning like an ape. At this strange spectacle Zoza burst into such a\nfit of laughter that she well-nigh fainted away. But when the old woman\nsaw herself played this trick, she flew into a passion, and turning a\nfierce look on Zoza she exclaimed: \"May you never have the least little\nbit of a husband, unless you take the Prince of Round-Field.\"\n\nUpon hearing this, Zoza ordered the old woman to be called; and desired\nto know whether, in her words, she had laid on her a curse, or had only\nmeant to insult her. And the old woman answered, \"Know then, that the\nPrince of whom I spoke is a most handsome creature, and is named\nTaddeo, who, by the wicked spell of a fairy, having given the last\ntouch to the picture of life, has been placed in a tomb outside the\nwalls of the city; and there is an inscription upon a stone, saying\nthat whatever woman shall in three days fill with tears a pitcher that\nhangs there upon a hook will bring the Prince to life and shall take\nhim for a husband. But as it is impossible for two human eyes to weep\nso much as to fill a pitcher that would hold half a barrel, I have\nwished you this wish in return for your scoffing and jeering at me. And\nI pray that it may come to pass, to avenge the wrong you have done me.\"\nSo saying, she scuttled down the stairs, for fear of a beating.\n\nZoza pondered over the words of the old woman, and after turning over a\nhundred thoughts in her mind, until her head was like a mill full of\ndoubts, she was at last struck by a dart of the passion that blinds the\njudgment and puts a spell on the reasoning of man. She took a handful\nof dollars from her father's coffers and left the palace, walking on\nand on, until she arrived at the castle of a fairy, to whom she\nunburdened her heart. The fairy, out of pity for such a fair young\ngirl, who had two spurs to make her fall--little help and much love for\nan unknown object--gave her a letter of recommendation to a sister of\nhers, who was also a fairy. And this second fairy received her likewise\nwith great kindness; and on the following morning, when Night commands\nthe birds to proclaim that whoever has seen a flock of black shadows\ngone astray shall be well rewarded, she gave her a beautiful walnut,\nsaying, \"Take this, my dear daughter, and keep it carefully; but never\nopen it, but in time of the greatest need.\" And then she gave her also\na letter, commending her to another sister.\n\nAfter journeying a long way, Zoza arrived at this fairy's castle, and\nwas received with the same affection. And the next morning this fairy\nlikewise gave her a letter to another sister, together with a chestnut,\ncautioning her in the same manner. Then Zoza travelled on to the next\ncastle, where she was received with a thousand caresses and given a\nfilbert, which she was never to open, unless the greatest necessity\nobliged her. So she set out upon her journey, and passed so many\nforests and rivers, that at the end of seven years, just at the time of\nday when the Sun, awakened by the coming of the cocks, has saddled his\nsteed to run his accustomed stages, she arrived almost lame at\nRound-Field.\n\nThere, at the entrance to the city, she saw a marble tomb, at the foot\nof a fountain, which was weeping tears of crystal at seeing itself shut\nup in a porphyry prison. And, lifting up the pitcher, she placed it in\nher lap and began to weep into it, imitating the fountain to make two\nlittle fountains of her eyes. And thus she continued without ever\nraising her head from the mouth of the pitcher--until, at the end of\ntwo days, it was full within two inches of the top. But, being wearied\nwith so much weeping, she was unawares overtaken by sleep, and was\nobliged to rest for an hour or so under the canopy of her eyes.\n\nMeanwhile a certain Slave, with the legs of a grasshopper, came, as she\nwas wont, to the fountain, to fill her water-cask. Now she knew the\nmeaning of the fountain which was talked of everywhere; and when she\nsaw Zoza weeping so incessantly, and making two little streams from her\neyes, she was always watching and spying until the pitcher should be\nfull enough for her to add the last drops to it; and thus to leave Zoza\ncheated of her hopes. Now, therefore, seeing Zoza asleep, she seized\nher opportunity; and dexterously removing the pitcher from under Zoza,\nand placing her own eyes over it, she filled it in four seconds. But\nhardly was it full, when the Prince arose from the white marble shrine,\nas if awakened from a deep sleep, and embraced that mass of dark flesh,\nand carried her straightways to his palace; feasts and marvellous\nilluminations were made, and he took her for his wife.\n\nWhen Zoza awoke and saw the pitcher gone, and her hopes with it, and\nthe shrine open, her heart grew so heavy that she was on the point of\nunpacking the bales of her soul at the custom-house of Death. But, at\nlast, seeing that there was no help for her misfortune, and that she\ncould only blame her own eyes, which had served her so ill, she went\nher way, step by step, into the city. And when she heard of the feasts\nwhich the Prince had made, and the dainty creature he had married, she\ninstantly knew how all this mischief had come to pass; and said to\nherself, sighing, \"Alas, two dark things have brought me to the\nground,--sleep and a black slave!\" Then she took a fine house facing\nthe palace of the Prince; from whence, though she could not see the\nidol of her heart, she could at least look upon the walls wherein what\nshe sighed for was enclosed.\n\nBut Taddeo, who was constantly flying like a bat round that black night\nof a Slave, chanced to perceive Zoza and was entranced with her beauty.\nWhen the Slave saw this she was beside herself with rage, and vowed\nthat if Taddeo did not leave the window, she would kill her baby when\nit was born.\n\nTaddeo, who was anxiously desiring an heir, was afraid to offend his\nwife and tore himself away from the sight of Zoza; who seeing this\nlittle balm for the sickness of her hopes taken away from her, knew\nnot, at first, what to do. But, recollecting the fairies' gifts, she\nopened the walnut, and out of it hopped a little dwarf like a doll, the\nmost graceful toy that was ever seen in the world. Then, seating\nhimself upon the window, the dwarf began to sing with such a trill and\ngurgling, that he seemed a veritable king of the birds.\n\nThe Slave, when she saw and heard this, was so enraptured that, calling\nTaddeo, she said, \"Bring me the little fellow who is singing yonder, or\nI will kill the child when it is born.\" So the Prince, who allowed this\nugly woman to put the saddle on his back, sent instantly to Zoza, to\nask if she would not sell the dwarf. Zoza answered she was not a\nmerchant, but that he was welcome to it as a gift. So Taddeo accepted\nthe offer, for he was anxious to keep his wife in good humour.\n\nFour days after this, Zoza opened the chestnut, when out came a hen\nwith twelve little chickens, all of pure gold, and, being placed on the\nwindow, the Slave saw them and took a vast fancy to them; and calling\nTaddeo, she showed him the beautiful sight, and again ordered him to\nprocure the hen and chickens for her. So Taddeo, who let himself be\ncaught in the web, and become the sport of the ugly creature, sent\nagain to Zoza, offering her any price she might ask for the beautiful\nhen. But Zoza gave the same answer as before, that he might have it as\na gift. Taddeo, therefore, who could not do otherwise, made necessity\nkick at discretion, and accepted the beautiful present.\n\nBut after four days more, Zoza opened the hazel-nut, and forth came a\ndoll which spun gold--an amazing sight. As soon as it was placed at the\nsame window, the Slave saw it and, calling to Taddeo, said, \"I must\nhave that doll, or I will kill the child.\" Taddeo, who let his proud\nwife toss him about like a shuttle, had nevertheless not the heart to\nsend to Zoza for the doll, but resolved to go himself, recollecting the\nsayings: \"No messenger is better than yourself,\" and \"Let him who would\neat a fish take it by the tail.\" So he went and besought Zoza to pardon\nhis impertinence, on account of the caprices of his wife; and Zoza, who\nwas in ecstasies at beholding the cause of her sorrow, put a constraint\non herself; and so let him entreat her the longer to keep in sight the\nobject of her love, who was stolen from her by an ugly slave. At length\nshe gave him the doll, as she had done the other things, but before\nplacing it in his hands, she prayed the little doll to put a desire\ninto the heart of the Slave to hear stories told by her. And when\nTaddeo saw the doll in his hand, without his paying a single coin, he\nwas so filled with amazement at such courtesy that he offered his\nkingdom and his life in exchange for the gift. Then, returning to his\npalace, he placed it in his wife's hands; and instantly such a longing\nseized her to hear stories told, that she called her husband and said,\n\"Bid some story-tellers come and tell me stories, or I promise you, I\nwill kill the child.\"\n\nTaddeo, to get rid of this madness, ordered a proclamation instantly to\nbe made, that all the women of the land should come on the appointed\nday. And on that day, at the hour when the star of Venus appears, who\nawakes the Dawn, to strew the road along which the Sun has to pass, the\nladies were all assembled at the palace. But Taddeo, not wishing to\ndetain such a rabble for the mere amusement of his wife, chose ten only\nof the best of the city who appeared to him most capable and eloquent.\nThese were Bushy-haired Zeza, Bandy-legged Cecca, Wen-necked Meneca,\nLong-nosed Tolla, Humph-backed Popa, Bearded Antonella, Dumpy Ciulla,\nBlear-eyed Paola, Bald-headed Civonmetella, and Square-shouldered\nJacova. Their names he wrote down on a sheet of paper; and then,\ndismissing the others, he arose with the Slave from under the canopy,\nand they went gently to the garden of the palace, where the leafy\nbranches were so closely interlaced, that the Sun could not separate\nthem with all the industry of his rays. And seating themselves under a\npavilion, formed by a trellis of vines, in the middle of which ran a\ngreat fountain--the schoolmaster of the courtiers, whom he taught\neveryday to murmur--Taddeo thus began:\n\n\"There is nothing in the world more glorious, my gentle dames, than to\nlisten to the deeds of others; nor was it without reason that the great\nphilosopher placed the highest happiness of man in listening to pretty\nstories. In hearing pleasing things told, griefs vanish, troublesome\nthoughts are put to flight and life is lengthened. And, for this\nreason, you see the artisans leave their workshops, the merchants their\ncountry-houses, the lawyers their cases, the shopkeepers their\nbusiness, and all repair with open mouths to the barbers' shops and to\nthe groups of chatterers, to listen to stories, fictions, and news in\nthe open air. I cannot, therefore, but pardon my wife, who has taken\nthis strange fancy into her head of hearing the telling of tales. So,\nif you will be pleased to satisfy the whim of the Princess and comply\nwith my wishes, you will, during the next four or five days, each of\nyou relate daily one of those tales which old women are wont to tell\nfor the amusement of the little ones. And you will come regularly to\nthis spot; where, after a good repast, you shall begin to tell stories,\nso as to pass life pleasantly--and sorrow to him that dies!\"\n\nAt these words, all bowed assent to the commands of Taddeo; and the\ntables being meanwhile set out and feast spread, they sat down to eat.\nAnd when they had done eating, the Prince took the paper and calling on\neach in turn, by name, the stories that follow were told, in due order.\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE MYRTLE\n\nThere lived in the village of Miano a man and his wife, who had no\nchildren whatever, and they longed with the greatest eagerness to have\nan heir. The woman, above all, was for ever saying, \"O heavens! if I\nmight but have a little baby--I should not care, were it even a sprig\nof a myrtle.\" And she repeated this song so often, and so wearied\nHeaven with these words, that at last her wish was granted; and at the\nend of nine months, instead of a little boy or girl, she placed in the\nhands of the nurse a fine sprig of myrtle. This she planted with great\ndelight in a pot, ornamented with ever so many beautiful figures, and\nset it in the window, tending it morning and evening with more\ndiligence than the gardener does a bed of cabbages from which he\nreckons to pay the rent of his garden.\n\nNow the King's son happening to pass by, as he was going to hunt, took\na prodigious fancy to this beautiful plant, and sent to ask the\nmistress of the house if she would sell it, for he would give even one\nof his eyes for it. The woman at last, after a thousand difficulties\nand refusals, allured by his offers, dazzled by his promises,\nfrightened by his threats, overcome by his prayers, gave him the pot,\nbeseeching him to hold it dear, for she loved it more than a daughter,\nand valued it as much as if it were her own offspring. Then the Prince\nhad the flower-pot carried with the greatest care in the world into his\nown chamber, and placed it in a balcony, and tended and watered it with\nhis own hand.\n\nIt happened one evening, when the Prince had gone to bed, and put out\nthe candles, and all were at rest and in their first sleep, that he\nheard the sound of some one stealing through the house, and coming\ncautiously towards his bed; whereat he thought it must be some\nchamber-boy coming to lighten his purse for him, or some mischievous\nimp to pull the bed-clothes off him. But as he was a bold fellow, whom\nnone could frighten, he acted the dead cat, waiting to see the upshot\nof the affair. When he perceived the object approach nearer, and\nstretching out his hand felt something smooth, and instead of laying\nhold, as he expected, on the prickles of a hedgehog, he touched a\nlittle creature more soft and fine than Barbary wool, more pliant and\ntender than a marten's tail, more delicate than thistle-down, he flew\nfrom one thought to another, and taking her to be a fairy (as indeed\nshe was), he conceived at once a great affection for her. The next\nmorning, before the Sun, like a chief physician, went out to visit the\nflowers that are sick and languid, the unknown fair one rose and\ndisappeared, leaving the Prince filled with curiosity and wonder.\n\nBut when this had gone on for seven days, he was burning and melting\nwith desire to know what good fortune this was that the stars had\nshowered down on him, and what ship freighted with the graces of Love\nit was that had come to its moorings in his chamber. So one night, when\nthe fair maiden was fast asleep, he tied one of her tresses to his arm,\nthat she might not escape; then he called a chamberlain, and bidding\nhim light the candles, he saw the flower of beauty, the miracle of\nwomen, the looking-glass and painted egg of Venus, the fair bait of\nLove--he saw a little doll, a beautiful dove, a Fata Morgana, a\nbanner--he saw a golden trinket, a hunter, a falcon's eye, a moon in\nher fifteenth day, a pigeon's bill, a morsel for a king, a jewel--he\nsaw, in short, a sight to amaze one.\n\nIn astonishment he cried, \"O sleep, sweet sleep! heap poppies on the\neyes of this lovely jewel; interrupt not my delight in viewing as long\nas I desire this triumph of beauty. O lovely tress that binds me! O\nlovely eyes that inflame me! O lovely lips that refresh me! O lovely\nbosom that consoles me! Oh where, at what shop of the wonders of\nNature, was this living statue made? What India gave the gold for these\nhairs? What Ethiopia the ivory to form these brows? What seashore the\ncarbuncles that compose these eyes? What Tyre the purple to dye this\nface? What East the pearls to string these teeth? And from what\nmountains was the snow taken to sprinkle over this bosom--snow contrary\nto nature, that nurtures the flowers and burns hearts?\"\n\nSo saying he made a vine of his arms, and clasping her neck, she awoke\nfrom her sleep and replied, with a gentle smile, to the sigh of the\nenamoured Prince; who, seeing her open her eyes, said, \"O my treasure,\nif viewing without candles this temple of love I was in transports,\nwhat will become of my life now that you have lighted two lamps? O\nbeauteous eyes, that with a trump-card of light make the stars\nbankrupt, you alone have pierced this heart, you alone can make a\npoultice for it like fresh eggs! O my lovely physician, take pity, take\npity on one who is sick of love; who, having changed the air from the\ndarkness of night to the light of this beauty, is seized by a fever;\nlay your hand on this heart, feel my pulse, give me a prescription.\nBut, my soul, why do I ask for a prescription? I desire no other\ncomfort than a touch of that little hand; for I am certain that with\nthe cordial of that fair grace, and with the healing root of that\ntongue of thine, I shall be sound and well again.\"\n\nAt these words the lovely fairy grew as red as fire, and replied, \"Not\nso much praise, my lord Prince! I am your servant, and would do\nanything in the world to serve that kingly face; and I esteem it great\ngood fortune that from a bunch of myrtle, set in a pot of earth, I have\nbecome a branch of laurel hung over the inn-door of a heart in which\nthere is so much greatness and virtue.\"\n\nThe Prince, melting at these words like a tallow-candle, began again to\nembrace her; and sealing the latter with a kiss, he gave her his hand,\nsaying, \"Take my faith, you shall be my wife, you shall be mistress of\nmy sceptre, you shall have the key of this heart, as you hold the helm\nof this life.\" After these and a hundred other ceremonies and\ndiscourses they arose. And so it went on for several days.\n\nBut as spoil-sport, marriage-parting Fate is always a hindrance to the\nsteps of Love, it fell out that the Prince was summoned to hunt a great\nwild boar which was ravaging the country. So he was forced to leave his\nwife. But as he loved her more than his life, and saw that she was\nbeautiful beyond all beautiful things, from this love and beauty there\nsprang up the feeling of jealousy, which is a tempest in the sea of\nlove, a piece of soot that falls into the pottage of the bliss of\nlovers--which is a serpent that bites, a worm that gnaws, a gall that\npoisons, a frost that kills, making life always restless, the mind\nunstable, the heart ever suspicious. So, calling the fairy, he said to\nher, \"I am obliged, my heart, to be away from home for two or three\ndays; Heaven knows with how much grief I tear myself from you, who are\nmy soul; and Heaven knows too whether, ere I set out, my life may not\nend; but as I cannot help going, to please my father, I must leave you.\nI, therefore, pray you, by all the love you bear me, to go back into\nthe flower-pot, and not to come out of it till I return, which will be\nas soon as possible.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" said the fairy, \"for I cannot and will not refuse what\npleases you. Go, therefore, and may the mother of good luck go with\nyou, for I will serve you to the best of my power. But do me one\nfavour; leave a thread of silk with a bell tied to the top of the\nmyrtle, and when you come back pull the thread and ring, and\nimmediately I will come out and say,  Here I am.'\"\n\nThe Prince did so, and then calling a chamberlain, said to him, \"Come\nhither, come hither, you! Open your ears and mind what I say. Make this\nbed every evening, as if I were myself to sleep in it. Water this\nflower-pot regularly, and mind, I have counted the leaves, and if I\nfind one missing I will take from you the means of earning your bread.\"\nSo saying he mounted his horse, and went, like a sheep that is led to\nthe slaughter, to follow a boar. In the meanwhile seven wicked women,\nwith whom the Prince had been acquainted, began to grow jealous; and\nbeing curious to pry into the secret, they sent for a mason, and for a\ngood sum of money got him to make an underground passage from their\nhouse into the Prince's chamber. Then these cunning jades went through\nthe passage in order to explore. But finding nothing, they opened the\nwindow; and when they saw the beautiful myrtle standing there, each of\nthem plucked a leaf from it; but the youngest took off the entire top,\nto which the little bell was hung; and the moment it was touched the\nbell tinkled and the fairy, thinking it was the Prince, immediately\ncame out.\n\nAs soon as the wicked women saw this lovely creature they fastened\ntheir talons on her, crying, \"You are she who turns to your own mill\nthe stream of our hopes! You it is who have stolen the favour of the\nPrince! But you are come to an end of your tricks, my fine lady! You\nare nimble enough in running off, but you are caught in your tricks\nthis time, and if you escape, you were never born.\"\n\nSo saying, they flew upon her, and instantly tore her in pieces, and\neach of them took her part. But the youngest would not join in this\ncruel act; and when she was invited by her sisters to do as they did,\nshe would take nothing but a lock of those golden hairs. So when they\nhad done they went quickly away by the passage through which they had\ncome.\n\nMeanwhile the chamberlain came to make the bed and water the\nflower-pot, according to his master's orders, and seeing this pretty\npiece of work, he had like to have died of terror. Then, biting his\nnails with vexation, he set to work, gathered up the remains of the\nflesh and bones that were left, and scraping the blood from the floor,\nhe piled them all up in a heap in the pot; and having watered it, he\nmade the bed, locked the door, put the key under the door, and taking\nto his heels ran away out of the town.\n\nWhen the Prince came back from the chase, he pulled the silken string\nand rung the little bell; but ring as he would it was all lost time; he\nmight sound the tocsin, and ring till he was tired, for the fairy gave\nno heed. So he went straight to the chamber, and not having patience to\ncall the chamberlain and ask for the key, he gave the lock a kick,\nburst open the door, went in, opened the window, and seeing the myrtle\nstript of its leaves, he fell to making a most doleful lamentation,\ncrying, shouting, and bawling, \"O wretched me! unhappy me! O miserable\nme! Who has played me this trick? and who has thus trumped my card? O\nruined, banished, and undone prince! O my leafless myrtle! my lost\nfairy! O my wretched life! my joys vanished into smoke! my pleasures\nturned to vinegar! What will you do, unhappy man! Leap quickly over\nthis ditch! You have fallen from all happiness, and will you not cut\nyour throat? You are robbed of every treasure! You are expelled from\nlife, and do you not go mad? Where are you? where are you, my myrtle?\nAnd what soul more hard than marble has destroyed this beautiful\nflower-pot? O cursed chase, that has chased me from all happiness!\nAlas! I am done for, I am overthrown, I am ruined, I have ended my\ndays; it is not possible for me to get through life without my life; I\nmust stretch my legs, since without my love sleep will be lamentation,\nfood, poison, pleasure insipid, and life sour.\"\n\nThese and many other exclamations that would move the very stones in\nthe streets, were uttered by the Prince; and after repeating them again\nand again, and wailing bitterly, full of sorrow and woe, never shutting\nan eye to sleep, nor opening his mouth to eat, he gave such way to\ngrief, that his face, which was before of oriental vermilion, became of\ngold paint, and the ham of his lips became rusty bacon.\n\nThe fairy, who had sprouted up again from the remains that were put in\nthe pot, seeing the misery and tribulation of her poor lover, and how\nhe was turned in a second to the colour of a sick Spaniard, of a\nvenomous lizard, of the sap of a leaf, of a jaundiced person, of a\ndried pear, was moved with compassion; and springing out of the pot,\nlike the light of a candle shooting out of a dark lantern, she stood\nbefore Cola Marchione, and embracing him in her arms she said, \"Take\nheart, take heart, my Prince! have done now with this lamenting, wipe\nyour eyes, quiet your anger, smooth your face. Behold me alive and\nhandsome, in spite of those wicked women, who split my head and so\nill-treated me.\"\n\nThe Prince, seeing this when he least expected it, arose again from\ndeath to life, and the colour returned to his cheeks, warmth to his\nblood, breath to his breast. After giving her a thousand caresses and\nembraces, he desired to know the whole affair from head to foot; and\nwhen he found that the chamberlain was not to blame, he ordered him to\nbe called, and giving a great banquet, he, with the full consent of his\nfather, married the fairy. And he invited all the great people of the\nkingdom, but, above all others, he would have present those seven\nserpents who had committed the slaughter of that sweet suckling-calf.\n\nAnd as soon as they had done eating, the Prince asked all the guests,\none after another, what he deserved who had injured that beautiful\nmaiden--pointing to the fairy, who looked so lovely that she shot\nhearts like a sprite and drew souls like a windlass.\n\nThen all who sat at table, beginning with the King, said, one that he\ndeserved the gallows, another that he merited the wheel, a third the\npincers, a fourth to be thrown from a precipice; in short one proposed\nthis punishment and another that. At last it came to the turn of the\nseven wicked women to speak, who, although they did not much relish\nthis conversation, yet, as the truth comes out when the wine goes\nabout, answered, that whoever had the heart basely to touch only this\nquintessence of the charms of love deserved to be buried alive in a\ndungeon.\n\n\"As you have pronounced this sentence with your own lips,\" said the\nPrince, \"you have yourselves judged the cause, you have yourselves\nsigned the decree. It remains for me to cause your order to be\nexecuted, since it is you who with the heart of a negro, with the\ncruelty of Medea, made a fritter of this beautiful head, and chopped up\nthese lovely limbs like sausage-meat. So quick, make haste, lose not a\nmoment! throw them this very instant into a large dungeon, where they\nshall end their days miserably.\"\n\nSo this order was instantly carried into execution. The Prince married\nthe youngest sister of these wicked creatures to the chamberlain, and\ngave her a good portion. And giving also to the father and mother of\nthe myrtle wherewithal to live comfortably, he himself spent his days\nhappily with the fairy; while the wicked women ended their lives in\nbitter anguish, and thus verified the proverb of the wise men of old--\n\n     \"The lame goat will hop\n     If he meets with no stop.\"\n\n\n\nIII\n\nPERUONTO\n\nA good deed is never lost. He who sows courtesy reaps benefit; and he\nwho gathers kindness gathers love. Pleasure bestowed on a grateful mind\nwas never barren, but always brings a good recompense; and that is the\nmoral of the story I am going to tell you.\n\nOnce upon a time a woman who lived in a village, and was called\nCeccarella, had a son named Peruonto, who was one of the most stupid\nlads that ever was born. This made his mother very unhappy, and all day\nlong she would grieve because of this great misfortune. For whether she\nasked him kindly, or stormed at him till her throat was dry, the\nfoolish fellow would not stir to do the slightest hand's turn for her.\nAt last, after a thousand dinnings at his brain, and a thousand\nsplittings of his head, and saying \"I tell you\" and \"I told you\" day\nafter day, she got him to go to the wood for a faggot, saying, \"Come\nnow, it is time for us to get a morsel to eat, so run off for some\nsticks, and don't forget yourself on the way, but come back as quick as\nyou can, and we will boil ourselves some cabbage, to keep the life in\nus.\"\n\nAway went the stupid Peruonto, hanging down his head as if he was going\nto gaol. Away he went, walking as if he were a jackdaw, or treading on\neggs, counting his steps, at the pace of a snail's gallop, and making\nall sorts of zigzags and excursions on his way to the wood, to come\nthere after the fashion of a raven. And when he reached the middle of a\nplain, through which ran a river growling and murmuring at the bad\nmanners of the stones that were stopping its way, he saw three youths\nwho had made themselves a bed of grass and a pillow of a great flint\nstone, and were lying sound asleep under the blaze of the Sun, who was\nshooting his rays down on them point blank. When Peruonto saw these\npoor creatures, looking as if they were in the midst of a fountain of\nfire, he felt pity for them, and cutting some branches of oak, he made\na handsome arbour over them. Meanwhile, the youths, who were the sons\nof a fairy, awoke, and, seeing the kindness and courtesy of Peruonto,\nthey gave him a charm, that every thing he asked for should be done.\n\nPeruonto, having performed this good action, went his ways towards the\nwood, where he made up such an enormous faggot that it would have\nneeded an engine to draw it; and, seeing that he could not in any way\nget in on his back, he set himself astride of it and cried, \"Oh, what a\nlucky fellow I should be if this faggot would carry me riding\na-horseback!\" And the word was hardly out of his mouth when the faggot\nbegan to trot and gallop like a great horse, and when it came in front\nof the King's palace it pranced and capered and curvetted in a way that\nwould amaze you. The ladies who were standing at one of the windows, on\nseeing such a wonderful sight, ran to call Vastolla, the daughter of\nthe King, who, going to the window and observing the caracoles of a\nfaggot and the bounds of a bundle of wood, burst out a-laughing--a\nthing which, owing to a natural melancholy, she never remembered to\nhave done before. Peruonto raised his head, and, seeing that it was at\nhim that they were laughing, exclaimed, \"Oh, Vastolla, I wish that I\ncould be your husband and I would soon cure you of laughing at me!\" And\nso saying, he struck his heels into the faggot, and in a dashing gallop\nhe was quickly at home, with such a train of little boys at his heels\nthat if his mother had not been quick to shut the door they would soon\nhave killed him with the stones and sticks with which they pelted him.\n\nNow came the question of marrying Vastolla to some great prince, and\nher father invited all he knew to come and visit him and pay their\nrespects to the Princess. But she refused to have anything to say to\neither of them, and only answered, \"I will marry none but the young man\nwho rode on the faggot.\" So that the King got more and more angry with\nevery refusal, and at last he was quite unable to contain himself any\nlonger, and called his Council together and said, \"You know by this\ntime how my honour has been shamed, and that my daughter has acted in\nsuch a manner that all the chronicles will tell the story against me,\nso now speak and advise me. I say that she is unworthy to live, seeing\nthat she has brought me into such discredit, and I wish to put her\naltogether out of the world before she does more mischief.\" The\nCouncillors, who had in their time learned much wisdom, said, \"Of a\ntruth she deserves to be severely punished. But, after all, it is this\naudacious scoundrel who has give you the annoyance, and it is not right\nthat he should escape through the meshes of the net. Let us wait, then,\ntill he comes to light, and we discover the root of this disgrace, and\nthen we will think it over and resolve what were best to be done.\" This\ncounsel pleased the King, for he saw that they spoke like sensible,\nprudent men, so he held his hand and said, \"Let us wait and see the end\nof this business.\"\n\nSo then the King made a great banquet, and invited every one of his\nnobles and all the gentlemen in his kingdom to come to it, and set\nVastolla at the high table at the top of the hall, for, he said, \"No\ncommon man can have done this, and when she recognises the fellow we\nshall see her eyes turn to him, and we will instantly lay hold on him\nand put him out of the way.\" But when the feasting was done, and all\nthe guests passed out in a line, Vastolla took no more notice of them\nthan Alexander's bull-dog did of the rabbits; and the King grew more\nangry than ever, and vowed that he would kill her without more delay.\nAgain, however, the Councillors pacified him and said, \"Softly, softly,\nyour Majesty! quiet your wrath. Let us make another banquet to-morrow,\nnot for people of condition but for the lower sort. Some women always\nattach themselves to the worst, and we shall find among the cutlers,\nand bead-makers, and comb-sellers, the root of your anger, which we\nhave not discovered among the cavaliers.\"\n\nThis reasoning took the fancy of the King, and he ordered a second\nbanquet to be prepared, to which, on proclamation being made, came all\nthe riff-raff and rag-tag and bob-tail of the city, such as rogues,\nscavengers, tinkers, pedlars, sweeps, beggars, and such like rabble,\nwho were all in high glee; and, taking their seats like noblemen at a\ngreat long table, they began to feast and gobble away.\n\nNow, when Ceccarella heard this proclamation, she began to urge\nPeruonto to go there too, until at last she got him to set out for the\nfeast. And scarcely had he arrived there when Vastolla cried out\nwithout thinking, \"That is my Knight of the Faggot.\" When the King\nheard this he tore his beard, seeing that the bean of the cake, the\nprize in the lottery, had fallen to an ugly lout, the very sight of\nwhom he could not endure, with a shaggy head, owl's eyes, a parrot's\nnose, a deer's mouth, and legs bare and bandy. Then, heaving a deep\nsigh, he said, \"What can that jade of a daughter of mine have seen to\nmake her take a fancy to this ogre, or strike up a dance with this\nhairy-foot? Ah, vile, false creature, who has cast so base a spell on\nher? But why do we wait? Let her suffer the punishment she deserves;\nlet her undergo the penalty that shall be decreed by you, and take her\nfrom my presence, for I cannot bear to look longer upon her.\"\n\nThen the Councillors consulted together and they resolved that she, as\nwell as the evil-doer, should be shut up in a cask and thrown into the\nsea; so that without staining the King's hands with the blood of one of\nhis family, they should carry out the sentence. No sooner was the\njudgment pronounced, than the cask was brought and both were put into\nit; but before they coopered it up, some of Vastolla's ladies, crying\nand sobbing as if their hearts would break, put into it a basket of\nraisins and dried figs that she might have wherewithal to live on for a\nlittle while. And when the cask was closed up, it was flung into the\nsea, on which it went floating as the wind drove it.\n\nMeanwhile Vastolla, weeping till her eyes ran like two rivers, said to\nPeruonto, \"What a sad misfortune is this of ours! Oh, if I but knew who\nhas played me this trick, to have me caged in this dungeon! Alas, alas,\nto find myself in this plight without knowing how. Tell me, tell me, O\ncruel man, what incantation was it you made, and what spell did you\nemploy, to bring me within the circle of this cask?\" Peruonto, who had\nbeen for some time paying little attention to her, at last said, \"If\nyou want me to tell you, you must give me some figs and raisins.\" So\nVastolla, to draw the secret out of him, gave him a handful of both;\nand as soon as he had eaten them he told her truly all that had\nbefallen him, with the three youths, and with the faggot, and with\nherself at the window: which, when the poor lady heard, she took heart\nand said to Peruonto, \"My friend, shall we then let our lives run out\nin a cask? Why don't you cause this tub to be changed into a fine ship\nand run into some good harbour to escape this danger?\" And Peruonto\nreplied--\n\n     \"If you would have me say the spell,\n     With figs and raisins feed me well!\"\n\nSo Vastolla, to make him open his mouth, filled it with fruit; and so\nshe fished the words out of him. And lo! as soon as Peruonto had said\nwhat she desired, the cask was turned into a beautiful ship; with sails\nand sailors and everything that could be wished for; and guns and\ntrumpets and a splendid cabin in which Vastolla sat filled with delight.\n\nIt being now the hour when the Moon begins to play at see-saw with the\nSun, Vastolla said to Peruonto, \"My fine lad, now make this ship to be\nchanged into a palace, for then we shall be more secure; you know the\nsaying, \"Praise the Sea, but keep to the Land.\" And Peruonto replied--\n\n     \"If you would have me say the spell,\n     With figs and raisins feed me well!\"\n\nSo Vastolla, at once, fed him again, and Peruonto, swallowing down the\nraisins and figs, did her pleasure; and immediately the ship came to\nland and was changed into a beautiful palace, fitted up in a most\nsumptuous manner, and so full of furniture and curtains and hangings\nthat there was nothing more to ask for. So that Vastolla, who a little\nbefore would not have set the price of a farthing on her life, did not\nnow wish to change places with the greatest lady in the world, seeing\nherself served and treated like a queen. Then to put the seal on all\nher good fortune, she besought Peruonto to obtain grace to become\nhandsome and polished in his manner, that they might live happy\ntogether; for though the proverb says, \"Better to have a pig for a\nhusband, than a smile from an emperor,\" still, if his appearance were\nchanged, she should think herself the happiest woman in the universe.\nAnd Peruonto replied as before--\n\n     \"If you would have me say the spell,\n     With figs and raisins feed me well!\"\n\nThen Vastolla quickly opened his lips, and scarcely had he spoken the\nwords when he was changed, as it were from an owl to a nightingale,\nfrom an ogre to a beautiful youth, from a scarecrow to a fine\ngentleman. Vastolla, seeing such a transformation clasped him in her\narms and was almost beside herself with joy. Then they were married and\nlived happily for years.\n\nMeanwhile the King grew old and very sad, so that, one day, the\ncourtiers persuaded him to go a-hunting to cheer him up. Night overtook\nhim, and, seeing a light in a palace, he sent a servant to know if he\ncould be entertained there; and he was answered that everything was at\nhis disposal. So the King went to the palace and passing into a great\nguest-chamber he saw no living soul, but two little boys, who skipped\naround him crying, \"Welcome, welcome!\" The King, surprised and\nastonished, stood like one that was enchanted, and sitting down to rest\nhimself at a table, to his amazement he saw invisibly spread on it a\nFlanders tablecloth, with dishes full of roast meats and all sorts of\nviands; so that, in truth, he feasted like a King, waited on by those\nbeautiful children, and all the while he sat at table a concert of\nlutes and tambourines never ceased--such delicious music that it went\nto the tips of his fingers and toes. When he had done eating, a bed\nsuddenly appeared all made of gold, and having his boots taken off, he\nwent to rest and all his courtiers did the same, after having fed\nheartily at a hundred tables, which were laid out in the other rooms.\n\nWhen morning came, the King wished to thank the two little children,\nbut with them appeared Vastolla and her husband; and casting herself at\nhis feet she asked his pardon and related the whole story. The King,\nseeing that he had found two grandsons who were two jewels and a\nson-in-law who was a fairy, embraced first one and then the other; and\ntaking up the children in his arms, they all returned to the city where\nthere was a great festival that lasted many days.\n\n\n\nIV\n\nVARDIELLO\n\nIf Nature had given to animals the necessity of clothing themselves,\nand of buying their food, the race of quadrupeds would inevitably be\ndestroyed. Therefore it is that they find their food without\ntrouble,--without gardener to gather it, purchaser to buy it, cook to\nprepare it, or carver to cut it up; whilst their skin defends them from\nthe rain and snow, without the merchant giving them cloth, the tailor\nmaking the dress, or the errand-boy begging for a drink-penny. To man\nhowever, who has intelligence, Nature did not care to grant these\nindulgences, since he is able to procure for himself what he wants.\nThis is the reason that we commonly see clever men poor, and blockheads\nrich; as you may gather from the story which I am going to tell you.\n\nGrannonia of Aprano was a woman of a great sense and judgment, but she\nhad a son named Vardiello, who was the greatest booby and simpleton in\nthe whole country round about. Nevertheless, as a mother's eyes are\nbewitched and see what does not exist, she doted upon him so much, that\nshe was for ever caressing and fondling him as if he were the\nhandsomest creature in the world.\n\nNow Grannonia kept a brood-hen, that was sitting upon a nest of eggs,\nin which she placed all her hope, expecting to have a fine brood of\nchickens, and to make a good profit of them. And having one day to go\nout on some business, she called her son, and said to him, \"My pretty\nson of your own mother, listen to what I say: keep your eye upon the\nhen, and if she should get up to scratch and pick, look sharp and drive\nher back to the nest; for otherwise the eggs will grow cold, and then\nwe shall have neither eggs nor chickens.\"\n\n\"Leave it to me,\" replied Vardiello, \"you are not speaking to deaf\nears.\"\n\n\"One thing more,\" said the mother; \"look-ye, my blessed son, in yon\ncupboard is a pot full of certain poisonous things; take care that ugly\nSin does not tempt you to touch them, for they would make you stretch\nyour legs in a trice.\"\n\n\"Heaven forbid!\" replied Vardiello, \"poison indeed will not tempt me;\nbut you have done wisely to give me the warning; for if I had got at\nit, I should certainly have eaten it all up.\"\n\nThereupon the mother went out, but Vardiello stayed behind; and, in\norder to lose no time, he went into the garden to dig holes, which he\ncovered with boughs and earth, to catch the little thieves who come to\nsteal the fruit. And as he was in the midst of his work, he saw the hen\ncome running out of the room, whereupon he began to cry, \"Hish, hish!\nthis way, that way!\" But the hen did not stir a foot; and Vardiello,\nseeing that she had something of the donkey in her, after crying \"Hish,\nhish,\" began to stamp with his feet; and after stamping with his feet\nto throw his cap at her, and after the cap a cudgel which hit her just\nupon the pate, and made her quickly stretch her legs.\n\nWhen Vardiello saw this sad accident, he bethought himself how to\nremedy the evil; and making a virtue of necessity, in order to prevent\nthe eggs growing cold, he set himself down upon the nest; but in doing\nso, he gave the eggs an unlucky blow, and quickly made an omelet of\nthem. In despair at what he had done, he was on the point of knocking\nhis head against the wall; at last, however, as all grief turns to\nhunger, feeling his stomach begin to grumble, he resolved to eat up the\nhen. So he plucked her, and sticking her upon a spit, he made a great\nfire, and set to work to roast her. And when she was cooked, Vardiello,\nto do everything in due order, spread a clean cloth upon an old chest;\nand then, taking a flagon, he went down into the cellar to draw some\nwine. But just as he was in the midst of drawing the wine, he heard a\nnoise, a disturbance, an uproar in the house, which seemed like the\nclattering of horses' hoofs. Whereat starting up in alarm and turning\nhis eyes, he saw a big tom-cat, which had run off with the hen, spit\nand all; and another cat chasing after him, mewing, and crying out for\na part.\n\nVardiello, in order to set this mishap to rights, darted upon the cat\nlike an unchained lion, and in his haste he left the tap of the barrel\nrunning. And after chasing the cat through every hole and corner of the\nhouse, he recovered the hen; but the cask had meanwhile all run out;\nand when Vardiello returned, and saw the wine running about, he let the\ncask of his soul empty itself through the tap-holes of his eyes. But at\nlast judgment came to his aid and he hit upon a plan to remedy the\nmischief, and prevent his mother's finding out what had happened; so,\ntaking a sack of flour, filled full to the mouth, he sprinkled it over\nthe wine on the floor.\n\nBut when he meanwhile reckoned up on his fingers all the disasters he\nhad met with, and thought to himself that, from the number of fooleries\nhe had committed, he must have lost the game in the good graces of\nGrannonia, he resolved in his heart not to let his mother see him again\nalive. So thrusting his hand into the jar of pickled walnuts which his\nmother had said contained poison, he never stopped eating until he came\nto the bottom; and when he had right well filled his stomach he went\nand hid himself in the oven.\n\nIn the meanwhile his mother returned, and stood knocking for a long\ntime at the door; but at last, seeing that no one came, she gave it a\nkick; and going in, she called her son at the top of her voice. But as\nnobody answered, she imagined that some mischief must have happened,\nand with increased lamentation she went on crying louder and louder,\n\"Vardiello! Vardiello! are you deaf, that you don't hear? Have you the\ncramp, that you don't run? Have you the pip, that you don't answer?\nWhere are you, you rogue? Where are you hidden, you naughty fellow?\"\n\nVardiello, on hearing all this hubbub and abuse, cried out at last with\na piteous voice, \"Here I am! here I am in the oven; but you will never\nsee me again, mother!\"\n\n\"Why so?\" said the poor mother.\n\n\"Because I am poisoned,\" replied the son.\n\n\"Alas! alas!\" cried Grannonia, \"how came you to do that? What cause\nhave you had to commit this homicide? And who has given you poison?\"\nThen Vardiello told her, one after another, all the pretty things he\nhad done; on which account he wished to die and not to remain any\nlonger a laughing-stock in the world.\n\nThe poor woman, on hearing all this, was miserable and wretched, and\nshe had enough to do and to say to drive this melancholy whimsey out of\nVardiello's head. And being infatuated and dotingly fond of him, she\ngave him some nice sweetmeats, and so put the affair of the pickled\nwalnuts out of his head, and convinced him that they were not poison,\nbut good and comforting to the stomach. And having thus pacified him\nwith cheering words, and showered on him a thousand caresses, she drew\nhim out of the oven. Then giving him a fine piece of cloth, she bade\nhim go and sell it, but cautioning him not to do business with folks of\ntoo many words.\n\n\"Tut, tut!\" said Vardiello, \"let me alone; I know what I'm about, never\nfear.\" So saying, he took the cloth, and went his way through the city\nof Naples, crying, \"Cloth! cloth!\" But whenever any one asked him,\n\"What cloth have you there?\" he replied, \"You are no customer for me;\nyou are a man of too many words.\" And when another said to him, \"How do\nyou sell your cloth?\" he called him a chatterbox, who deafened him with\nhis noise. At length he chanced to espy, in the courtyard of a house\nwhich was deserted on account of the Monaciello, a plaster statue; and\nbeing tired out, and wearied with going about and about, he sat himself\ndown on a bench. But not seeing any one astir in the house, which\nlooked like a sacked village, he was lost in amazement, and said to the\nstatue: \"Tell me, comrade, does no one live in this house?\" Vardiello\nwaited awhile; but as the statue gave no answer, he thought this surely\nwas a man of few words. So he said, \"Friend, will you buy my cloth?\nI'll sell it you cheap.\" And seeing that the statue still remained\ndumb, he exclaimed, \"Faith, then, I've found my man at last! There,\ntake the cloth, examine it, and give me what you will; to-morrow I'll\nreturn for the money.\"\n\nSo saying Vardiello left the cloth on the spot where he had been\nsitting, and the first mother's son who passed that way found the prize\nand carried it off.\n\nWhen Vardiello returned home without the cloth, and told his mother all\nthat had happened, she wellnigh swooned away, and said to him, \"When\nwill you put that headpiece of yours in order? See now what tricks you\nhave played me--only think! But I am myself to blame, for being too\ntender-hearted, instead of having given you a good beating at first;\nand now I perceive that a pitiful doctor only makes the wound\nincurable. But you'll go on with your pranks until at last we come to a\nserious falling-out, and then there will be a long reckoning, my lad!\"\n\n\"Softly, mother,\" replied Vardiello, \"matters are not so bad as they\nseem; do you want more than crown-pieces brand new from the mint? Do\nyou think me a fool, and that I don't know what I am about? To-morrow\nis not yet here. Wait awhile, and you shall see whether I know how to\nfit a handle to a shovel.\"\n\nThe next morning, as soon as the shades of Night, pursued by the\nconstables of the Sun, had fled the country, Vardiello repaired to the\ncourtyard where the statue stood, and said, \"Good-day, friend! Can you\ngive me those few pence you owe me? Come, quick, pay me for the cloth!\"\nBut when he saw that the statue remained speechless, he took up a stone\nand hurled it at its breast with such force that it burst a vein, which\nproved, indeed, the cure to his own malady; for some pieces of the\nstatue falling off, he discovered a pot full of golden crown-pieces.\nThen taking it in both his hands, off he ran home, head over heels, as\nfar as he could scamper, crying out, \"Mother, mother! see here! what a\nlot of red lupins I've got. How many! how many!\"\n\nHis mother, seeing the crown-pieces, and knowing very well that\nVardiello would soon make the matter public, told him to stand at the\ndoor until the man with milk and new-made cheese came past, as she\nwanted to buy a pennyworth of milk. So Vardiello, who was a great\nglutton, went quickly and seated himself at the door; and his mother\nshowered down from the window above raisins and dried figs for more\nthan half an hour. Whereupon Vardiello, picking them up as fast as he\ncould, cried aloud, \"Mother, mother! bring out some baskets; give me\nsome bowls! Here, quick with the tubs and buckets! for if it goes on to\nrain thus we shall be rich in a trice.\" And when he had eaten his fill\nVardiello went up to sleep.\n\nIt happened one day that two countrymen--the food and life-blood of the\nlaw-courts--fell out, and went to law about a gold crown-piece which\nthey had found on the ground. And Vardiello passing by said, \"What\njackasses you are to quarrel about a red lupin like this! For my part I\ndon't value it at a pin's head, for I've found a whole potful of them.\"\n\nWhen the judge heard this he opened wide his eyes and ears, and\nexamined Vardiello closely, asking him how, when, and where he had\nfound the crowns. And Vardiello replied, \"I found them in a palace,\ninside a dumb man, when it rained raisins and dried figs.\" At this the\njudge stared with amazement; but instantly seeing how the matter stood,\nhe decreed that Vardiello should be sent to a madhouse, as the most\ncompetent tribunal for him. Thus the stupidity of the son made the\nmother rich, and the mother's wit found a remedy for the foolishness of\nthe son: whereby it is clearly seen that--\n\n     \"A ship when steered by a skilful hand\n     Will seldom strike upon rock or sand.\"\n\n\n\nV\n\nTHE FLEA\n\nResolutions taken without thought bring disasters without remedy. He\nwho behaves like a fool repents like a wise man; as happened to the\nKing of High-Hill, who through unexampled folly committed an act of\nmadness putting in jeopardy both his daughter and his honour.\n\nOnce upon a time the King of High-Hill being bitten by a flea caught\nhim by a wonderful feat of dexterity; and seeing how handsome and\nstately he was he had not the conscience to sentence him to death. So\nhe put him into a bottle, and feeding him every day himself the little\nanimal grew at such a rate that at the end of seven months it was\nnecessary to shift his quarters, for he was grown bigger than a sheep.\nThe King then had him flayed and his skin dressed. Then he issued a\nproclamation that whoever could tell what this skin was should marry\nthe Princess.\n\nAs soon as this decree was made known the people flocked in crowds from\nall the ends of the world to try their luck. One said that it belonged\nto an ape, another to a lynx, a third to a crocodile, and in short some\ngave it to one animal and some to another; but they were all a hundred\nmiles from the truth, and not one hit the nail on the head. At last\nthere came to this trial an ogre who was the most ugly being in the\nworld, the very sight of whom would make the boldest man tremble and\nquake with fear. But no sooner had he come and turned the skin round\nand smelt it than he instantly guessed the truth, saying, \"This skin\nbelongs to the king of fleas.\"\n\nNow the King saw that the ogre had hit the mark; and not to break his\nword he ordered his daughter Porziella to be called. Porziella had a\nface like milk and roses, and was such a miracle of beauty that you\nwould never be tired of looking at her. And the King said to her, \"My\ndaughter, you know who I am. I cannot go back from my promise whether a\nking or a beggar. My word is given, I must keep it though my heart\nshould break. Who would ever have imagined that this prize would have\nfallen to an ogre! But it never does to judge hastily. Have patience\nthen and do not oppose your father; for my heart tells me that you will\nbe happy, for rich treasures are often found inside a rough earthen\njar.\"\n\n\nWhen Porziella heard this sad saying her eyes grew dim, her face turned\npale, her lips fell, her knees shook; and at last, bursting into tears,\nshe said to her father, \"What crime have I committed that I should be\npunished thus! How have I ever behaved badly toward you that I should\nbe given up to this monster. Is this, O Father, the affection you bear\nto your own child? Is this the love you show to her whom you used to\ncall the joy of your soul? Do you drive from your sight her who is the\napple of your eye? O Father, O cruel Father! Better had it been if my\ncradle had been my death-bed since I have lived to see this evil day.\"\n\nPorziella was going on to say more when the King in a furious rage\nexclaimed, \"Stay your anger! Fair and softly, for appearances deceive.\nIs it for a girl to teach her father, forsooth? Have done, I say, for\nif I lay these hands upon you I'll not leave a whole bone in your skin.\nPrithee, how long has a child hardly out of the nursery dared to oppose\nmy will? Quick then, I say, take his hand and set off with him home\nthis very instant, for I will not have that saucy face a minute longer\nin my sight.\"\n\nPoor Porziella, seeing herself thus caught in the net, with the face of\na person condemned to death, with the heart of one whose head is lying\nbetween the axe and the block, took the hand of the ogre, who dragged\nher off without any attendants to the wood where the trees made a\npalace for the meadow to prevent its being discovered by the sun, and\nthe brooks murmured, having knocked against the stones in the dark,\nwhile the wild beasts wandered where they liked without paying toll,\nand went safely through the thicket whither no man ever came unless he\nhad lost his way. Upon this spot, which was as black as an unswept\nchimney, stood the ogre's house ornamented all round with the bones of\nthe men whom he had devoured. Think but for a moment of the horror of\nit to the poor girl.\n\nBut this was nothing at all in comparison with what was to come. Before\ndinner she had peas and after dinner parched beans. Then the ogre went\nout to hunt and returned home laden with the quarters of the men whom\nhe had killed, saying, \"Now, wife, you cannot complain that I don't\ntake good care of you; here is a fine store of eatables, take and make\nmerry and love me well, for the sky will fall before I will let you\nwant for food.\"\n\nPoor Porziella could not endure this horrible sight and turned her face\naway. But when the ogre saw this he cried, \"Ha! this is throwing\nsweetmeats before swine; never mind, however, only have patience till\nto-morrow morning, for I have been invited to a wild boar hunt and will\nbring you home a couple of boars, and we'll make a grand feast with our\nkinsfolk and celebrate the wedding.\" So saying he went into the forest.\n\nNow as Porziella stood weeping at the window it chanced that an old\nwoman passed by who, being famished with hunger, begged some food. \"Ah,\nmy good woman,\" said Porziella, \"Heaven knows I am in the power of the\nogre who brings me home nothing but pieces of the men he has killed. I\npass the most miserable life possible, and yet I am the daughter of a\nking and have been brought up in luxury.\" And so saying she began to\ncry like a little girl who sees her bread and butter taken away from\nher.\n\nThe old woman's heart was softened at this sight and she said to\nPorziella, \"Be of good heart, my pretty girl, do not spoil your beauty\nwith crying, for you have met with luck; I can help you to both saddle\nand trappings. Listen, now. I have seven sons who, you see, are seven\ngiants, Mase, Nardo, Cola, Micco, Petrullo, Ascaddeo, and Ceccone, who\nhave more virtues that rosemary, especially Mase, for every time he\nlays his ear to the ground he hears all that is passing within thirty\nmiles round. Nardo, every time he washes his hands, makes a great sea\nof soapsuds. Every time that Cola throws a bit of iron on the ground he\nmakes a field of sharp razors. Whenever Micco flings down a little\nstick a tangled wood springs up. If Petrullo lets fall a drop of water\nit makes a terrible river. When Ascaddeo wishes a strong tower to\nspring up he has only to throw a stone; and Ceccone shoots so straight\nwith the cross-bow that he can hit a hen's eye a mile off. Now with the\nhelp of my sons, who are all courteous and friendly, and who will all\ntake compassion on your condition, I will contrive to free you from the\nclaws of the ogre.\"\n\n\"No time better than now,\" replied Porziella, \"for that evil shadow of\na husband of mine has gone out and will not return this evening, and we\nshall have time to slip off and run away.\"\n\n\"It cannot be this evening,\" replied the old woman, \"for I live a long\nway off; but I promise you that to-morrow morning I and my sons will\nall come together and help you out of your trouble.\"\n\nSo saying, the old woman departed, and Porziella went to rest with a\nlight heart and slept soundly all night. But as soon as the birds began\nto cry, \"Long live the Sun,\" lo and behold, there was the old woman\nwith her seven children; and placing Porziella in the midst of them\nthey proceeded towards the city. But they had not gone above half a\nmile when Mase put his ear to the ground and cried: \"Hallo, have a\ncare; here's the fox. The ogre is come home. He has missed his wife and\nhe is hastening after us with his cap under his arm.\"\n\nNo sooner did Nardo hear this than he washed his hands and made a sea\nof soap-suds; and when the ogre came and saw all the suds he ran home\nand fetching a sack of bran he strewed it about and worked away\ntreading it down with his feet until at last he got over this obstacle,\nthough with great difficulty.\n\nBut Mase put his ear once more to the ground and exclaimed, \"Look\nsharp, comrade, here he comes!\" Thereupon Cola flung a piece of iron on\nthe ground and instantly a field of razors sprang up. When the ogre saw\nthe path stopped he ran home again and clad himself in iron from head\nto foot and then returned and got over this peril.\n\nThen Mase, again putting his ear to the ground, cried, \"Up! up! to\narms! to arms! For see here is the ogre coming at such a rate that he\nis actually flying.\" But Micco was ready with his little stick, and in\nan instant he caused a terrible wood to rise up, so thick that it was\nquite impenetrable. When the ogre came to this difficult pass he laid\nhold of a Carrara knife which he wore at his side, and began to cut\ndown the poplars and oaks and pine trees and chestnut trees, right and\nleft; so that with four or five strokes he had the whole forest on the\nground and got clear of it. Presently, Mase who kept his ears on the\nalert like a hare, again raised his voice and cried, \"Now we must be\noff, for the ogre is coming like the wind and here he is at our heels.\"\nAs soon as Petrullo heard this he took water from a little fountain,\nsprinkled it on the ground, and in an twinkling of an eye a large river\nrose up on the spot. When the ogre saw this new obstacle, and that he\ncould not make holes so fast as they found bungs to stop them, he\nstripped himself stark naked and swam across to the other side of the\nriver with his clothes upon his head.\n\nMase, who put his ear to every chink, heard the ogre coming and\nexclaimed, \"Alas! matters go ill with us now. I already hear the\nclatter of the ogre's heels. We must be on our guard and ready to meet\nthe storm or else we are done for.\" \"Never fear,\" said Ascaddeo, \"I\nwill soon settle this ugly ragamuffin.\" So saying, he flung a pebble on\nthe ground and instantly up rose a tower in which they all took refuge\nwithout delay, and barred the door. But when the ogre came up and saw\nthat they had got into so safe a place he ran home, got a\nvine-dresser's ladder, and carried it back on his shoulder to the tower.\n\nNow Mase, who kept his ears hanging down, heard at a distance the\napproach of the ogre and cried, \"We are now at the butt end of the\nCandle of Hope. Ceccone is our last resource, for the ogre is coming\nback in a terrible fury. Alas! how my heart beats, for I foresee an\nevil day.\" \"You coward,\" answered Ceccone, \"trust to me and I will hit\nhim with a ball.\"\n\nAs Ceccone was speaking the ogre came, planted his ladder and began to\nclimb up; but Ceccone, taking aim at him, shot out one of his eyes and\nlaid him at full length on the ground, like a pear dropped from a tree.\nThen he went out of the tower and cut off the ogre's head with a big\nknife he carried about with him, just as if it had been new-made\ncheese. Thereupon they took the head with great joy to the King, who\nrejoiced at the recovery of his daughter, for he had repented a hundred\ntimes at having given her to an ogre. And not many days after Porziella\nwas married to a handsome prince, and the seven sons and their mother\nwho had delivered her from such a wretched life were rewarded with\ngreat riches.\n\n\n\nVI\n\nCENERENTOLA\n\nIn the sea of malice envy frequently gets out of her depth; and, while\nshe is expecting to see another drowned, she is either drowned herself,\nor is dashed against a rock, as happened to some envious girls, about\nwhom I will tell you a story.\n\nThere once lived a Prince, who was a widower. He had an only daughter,\nso dear to him that he saw with no other eyes than hers; and he kept a\ngoverness for her, who taught her chain-work and knitting, and to make\npoint-lace, and showed her such affection as no words can tell. But she\nwas very lonely, and many a time she said to the governess, \"Oh, that\nyou had been my mother, you who show me such kindness and love,\" and\nshe said this so often that, at last, the governess, having a bee put\ninto her bonnet, said to her one day, \"If you will do as this foolish\nhead of mine advises I shall be mother to you, and you will be as dear\nto me as the apple of my eye.\"\n\nShe was going to say more, when Zezolla, for that was the name of the\nPrincess, said, \"Pardon me if I stop the word upon your tongue. I know\nyou wish me well, therefore, hush--enough. Only show me the way. Do you\nwrite and I will subscribe.\" \"Well, then,\" answered the governess,\n\"open your ears and listen, and you will get bread as white as the\nflowers. You know well enough that your father would even coin false\nmoney to please you, so do you entreat him when he is caressing you to\nmarry me and make me Princess. Then, bless your stars! you shall be the\nmistress of my life.\"\n\nWhen Zezolla heard this, every hour seemed to her a thousand years\nuntil she had done all that her governess had advised; and, as soon as\nthe mourning for her mother's death was ended, she began to feel her\nfather's pulse, and beg him to marry the governess. At first the Prince\ntook it as a joke, but Zezolla went on shooting so long past the mark\nthat at length she hit it, and he gave way to her entreaties. So he\nmarried the governess, and gave a great feast at the wedding.\n\nNow, while the young folks were dancing, and Zezolla was standing at\nthe window of her house, a dove came flying and perched upon a wall,\nand said to her, \"Whenever you need anything send the request to the\nDove of the Fairies in the Island of Sardinia, and you will instantly\nhave what you wish.\"\n\nFor five or six days the new stepmother overwhelmed Zezolla with\ncaresses, seating her at the best place at table, giving her the\nchoicest morsels to eat, and clothing her in the richest apparel. But\nere long, forgetting entirely the good service she had received (woe to\nhim who has a bad master!), she began to bring forward six daughters of\nher own, for she had never before told any one that she was a widow\nwith a bunch of girls; and she praised them so much, and talked her\nhusband over in such a fashion, that at last the stepdaughters had all\nhis favour, and the thought of his own child went entirely from his\nheart. In short, it fared so ill with the poor girl, bad to-day and\nworse to-morrow, that she was at last brought down from the royal\nchamber to the kitchen, from the canopy of state to the hearth, from\nsplendid apparel of silks and gold to dishclouts, from the sceptre to\nthe spit. And not only was her condition changed, but even her name,\nfor, instead of Zezolla, she was now called Cenerentola.\n\nIt happened that the Prince had occasion to go to Sardinia upon affairs\nof state, and, calling the six stepdaughters, he asked them, one by\none, what they would like him to bring them on his return. Then one\nwished for splendid dresses, another to have head-ornaments, another\nrouge for the face, another toys and trinkets: one wished for this and\none for that. At last the Prince said to his own daughter, as if in\nmockery, \"And what would you have, child?\" \"Nothing, father,\" she\nreplied, \"but that you commend me to the Dove of the Fairies, and bid\nher send me something; and if you forget my request, may you be unable\nto stir backwards or forwards; so remember what I tell you, for it will\nfare with you accordingly.\"\n\nThen the Prince went his way and did his business in Sardinia, and\nprocured all the things that his stepdaughters had asked for; but poor\nZezolla was quite out of his thoughts. And going on board a ship he set\nsail to return, but the ship could not get out of the harbour; there it\nstuck fast just as if held by a sea-lamprey. The captain of the ship,\nwho was almost in despair and fairly tired out, laid himself down to\nsleep, and in his dream he saw a fairy, who said to him, \"Know you the\nreason why you cannot work the ship out of port? It is because the\nPrince who is on board with you has broken his promise to his daughter,\nremembering every one except his own child.\"\n\nThen the captain awoke and told his dream to the Prince, who, in shame\nand confusion at the breach of his promise, went to the Grotto of the\nFairies, and, commending his daughter to them, asked them to send her\nsomething. And behold, there stepped forth from the grotto a beautiful\nmaiden, who told him that she thanked his daughter for her kind\nremembrances, and bade him tell her to be merry and of good heart out\nof love to her. And thereupon she gave him a date-tree, a hoe, and a\nlittle bucket all of gold, and a silken napkin, adding that the one was\nto hoe with and the other to water the plant.\n\nThe Prince, marvelling at this present, took leave of the fairy, and\nreturned to his own country. And when he had given his stepdaughters\nall the things they had desired, he at last gave his own daughter the\ngift which the fairy had sent her. Then Zezolla, out of her wits with\njoy, took the date-tree and planted it in a pretty flower-pot, hoed the\nearth round it, watered it, and wiped its leaves morning and evening\nwith the silken napkin. In a few days it had grown as tall as a woman,\nand out of it came a fairy, who said to Zezolla, \"What do you wish\nfor?\" And Zezolla replied that she wished sometimes to leave the house\nwithout her sisters' knowledge. The fairy answered, \"Whenever you\ndesire this, come to the flower-pot and say:\n\n     My little Date-tree, my golden tree,\n     With a golden hoe I have hoed thee,\n     With a golden can I have watered thee,\n     With a silken cloth I have wiped thee dry,\n     Now strip thee and dress me speedily.\n\nAnd when you wish to undress, change the last words and say, 'Strip me\nand dress thee.'\"\n\nWhen the time for the feast was come, and the stepmother's daughters\nappeared, dressed out so fine, all ribbons and flowers, and slippers\nand shoes, sweet smells and bells, and roses and posies, Zezolla ran\nquickly to the flower-pot, and no sooner had she repeated the words, as\nthe fairy had told her, than she saw herself arrayed like a queen,\nseated upon a palfrey, and attended by twelve smart pages, all in their\nbest clothes. Then she went to the ball, and made the sisters envious\nof this unknown beauty.\n\nEven the young King himself was there, and as soon as he saw her he\nstood magic-bound with amazement, and ordered a trusty servant to find\nout who was that beautiful maiden, and where she lived. So the servant\nfollowed in her footsteps; but when Zezolla noticed the trick she threw\non the ground a handful of crown-pieces which she had made the\ndate-tree give her for this purpose. Then the servant lighted his\nlantern, and was so busy picking up all the crown-pieces that he forgot\nto follow the palfrey; and Zezolla came home quite safely, and had\nchanged her clothes, as the fairy told her, before the wicked sisters\narrived, and, to vex her and make her envious, told her of all the fine\nthings they had seen. But the King was very angry with the servant, and\nwarned him not to miss finding out next time who this beautiful maiden\nwas, and where she dwelt.\n\nSoon there was another feast, and again the sisters all went to it,\nleaving poor Zezolla at home on the kitchen hearth. Then she ran\nquickly to the date-tree, and repeated the spell, and instantly there\nappeared a number of damsels, one with a looking-glass, another with a\nbottle of rose-water, another with the curling-irons, another with\ncombs, another with pins, another with dresses, and another with capes\nand collars. And they decked her out as glorious as the sun, and put\nher in a coach drawn by six white horses, and attended by footmen and\npages in livery. And no sooner did she appear in the ball-room than the\nhearts of the sisters were filled with amazement, and the King was\novercome with love.\n\nWhen Zezolla went home the servant followed her again, but so that she\nshould not be caught she threw down a handful of pearls and jewels, and\nthe good fellow, seeing that they were not things to lose, stayed to\npick them up. So she had time to slip away and take off her fine dress\nas before.\n\nMeanwhile the servant had returned slowly to the King, who cried out\nwhen he saw him, \"By the souls of my ancestors, if you do not find out\nwho she is you shall have such a thrashing as was never before heard\nof, and as many kicks as you have hairs in your beard!\"\n\nWhen the next feast was held, and the sisters were safely out of the\nhouse, Zezolla went to the date-tree, and once again repeated the\nspell. In an instant she found herself splendidly arrayed and seated in\na coach of gold, with ever so many servants around her, so that she\nlooked just like a queen. Again the sisters were beside themselves with\nenvy; but this time, when she left the ball-room, the King's servant\nkept close to the coach. Zezolla, seeing that the man was ever running\nby her side, cried, \"Coachman, drive on quickly,\" and in a trice the\ncoach set off at such a rattling pace that she lost one of her\nslippers, the prettiest thing that ever was seen. The servant being\nunable to catch the coach, which flew like a bird, picked up the\nslipper, and carrying it to the King told him all that happened.\nWhereupon the King, taking it in his hand, said, \"If the basement,\nindeed, is so beautiful, what must the building be. You who until now\nwere the prison of a white foot are now the fetter of an unhappy heart!\"\n\nThen he made a proclamation that all the women in the country should\ncome to a banquet, for which the most splendid provision was made of\npies and pastries, and stews and ragouts, macaroni and\nsweetmeats--enough to feed a whole army. And when all the women were\nassembled, noble and ignoble, rich and poor, beautiful and ugly, the\nKing tried the slipper on each one of the guests to see whom it should\nfit to a hair, and thus be able to discover by the help of the slipper\nthe maiden of whom he was in search, but not one foot could he find to\nfit it. So he examined them closely whether indeed every one was there;\nand the Prince confessed that he had left one daughter behind, \"but,\"\nsaid he, \"she is always on the hearth, and is such a graceless\nsimpleton that she is unworthy to sit and eat at your table.\" But the\nKing said, \"Let her be the very first on the list, for so I will.\"\n\nSo all the guests departed--the very next day they assembled again, and\nwith the wicked sisters came Zezolla. When the King saw her he had his\nsuspicions, but said nothing. And after the feast came the trial of the\nslipper, which, as soon as ever it approached Zezolla's foot, it darted\non to it of its own accord like iron flies to the magnet. Seeing this,\nthe King ran to her and took her in his arms, and seating her under the\nroyal canopy, he set the crown upon her head, whereupon all made their\nobeisance and homage to her as their queen.\n\nWhen the wicked sisters saw this they were full of venom and rage, and,\nnot having patience to look upon the object of their hatred, they\nslipped quietly away on tip-toe and went home to their mother,\nconfessing, in spite of themselves, that--\n\n     \"He is a madman who resists the Stars.\"\n\n\n\nVII\n\nTHE MERCHANT\n\nTroubles are usually the brooms and shovels that smooth the road to a\nman's good fortune, of which he little dreams. Many a man curses the\nrain that falls upon his head, and knows not that it brings abundance\nto drive away hunger; as is seen in the person of a young man of whom I\nwill tell you.\n\nIt is said that there was once a very rich merchant named Antoniello,\nwho had a son called Cienzo. It happened that Cienzo was one day\nthrowing stones on the sea-shore with the son of the King of Naples,\nand by chance broke his companion's head. When he told his father,\nAntoniello flew into a rage with fear of the consequences and abused\nhis son; but Cienzo answered, \"Sir, I have always heard say that better\nis the law court than the doctor in one's house. Would it not have been\nworse if he had broken my head? It was he who began and provoked me. We\nare but boys, and there are two sides to the quarrel. After all  tis a\nfirst fault, and the King is a man of reason; but let the worst come to\nthe worst, what great harm can he do me? The wide world is one's home;\nand let him who is afraid turn constable.\"\n\nBut Antoniello would not listen to reason. He made sure the King would\nkill Cienzo for his fault and said, \"Don't stand here at risk of your\nlife; but march off this very instant, so that nobody may hear a word,\nnew or old, of what you have done. A bird in the bush is better than a\nbird in the cage. Here is money. Take one of the two enchanted horses I\nhave in the stable, and the dog which is also enchanted, and tarry no\nlonger here. It is better to scamper off and use your own heels than to\nbe touched by another's; better to throw your legs over your back than\nto carry your head between two legs. If you don't take your knapsack\nand be off, none of the Saints can help you!\"\n\nThen begging his father's blessing, Cienzo mounted his horse, and\ntucking the enchanted dog under his arm, he went his way out of the\ncity. Making a winter of tears with a summer of sighs he went his way\nuntil the evening, when he came to a wood that kept the Mule of the Sun\noutside its limits, while it was amusing itself with Silence and the\nShades. An old house stood there, at the foot of a tower. Cienzo\nknocked at the door of the tower; but the master, being in fear of\nrobbers, would not open to him, so the poor youth was obliged to remain\nin the ruined old house. He turned his horse out to graze in a meadow,\nand threw himself on some straw he found, with the dog by his side. But\nscarcely had he closed his eyes when he was awakened by the barking of\nthe dog, and heard footsteps stirring in the house. Cienzo, who was\nbold and venturesome, seized his sword and began to lay about him in\nthe dark; but perceiving that he was only striking the wind and hit no\none, he turned round again to sleep. After a few minutes he felt\nhimself pulled gently by the foot. He turned to lay hold again of his\ncutlass, and jumping up, exclaimed, \"Hollo there! you are getting too\ntroublesome; but leave off this sport and let's have a bout of it if\nyou have any pluck, for you have found the last to your shoe!\"\n\nAt these words he heard a shout of laughter and then a hollow voice\nsaying, \"Come down here and I will tell you who I am.\" Then Cienzo,\nwithout losing courage, answered, \"Wait awhile, I'll come.\" So he\ngroped about until at last he found a ladder which led to a cellar;\nand, going down, he saw a lighted lamp, and three ghost-looking figures\nwho were making a piteous clamour, crying, \"Alas, my beauteous\ntreasure, I must lose thee!\"\n\nWhen Cienzo saw this he began himself to cry and lament, for company's\nsake; and after he had wept for some time, the Moon having now, with\nthe axe of her rays broken the bar of the Sky, the three figures who\nwere making the outcry said to Cienzo, \"Take this treasure, which is\ndestined for thee alone, but mind and take care of it.\" Then they\nvanished. And Cienzo, espying the sunlight through a hole in the wall,\nwished to climb up again, but could not find the ladder, whereat he set\nup such a cry that the master of the tower heard him and fetched a\nladder, when they discovered a great treasure. He wished to give part\nof it to Cienzo, but the latter refused; and taking his dog and\nmounting once more on his horse set out again on his travels.\n\nAfter a while he arrived at a wild and dreary forest, so dark that it\nmade you shudder. There, upon the bank of a river, he found a fairy\nsurrounded by a band of robbers. Cienzo, seeing the wicked intention of\nthe robbers, seized his sword and soon made a slaughter of them. The\nfairy showered thanks upon him for this brave deed done for her sake,\nand invited him to her palace that she might reward him. But Cienzo\nreplied, \"It is nothing at all; thank you kindly. Another time I will\naccept the favour; but now I am in haste, on business of importance!\"\n\nSo saying he took his leave; and travelling on a long way he came at\nlast to the palace of a King, which was all hung with mourning, so that\nit made one's heart black to look at it. When Cienzo inquired the cause\nof the mourning the folks answered, \"A dragon with seven heads has made\nhis appearance in this country, the most terrible monster that ever was\nseen, with the crest of a cock, the head of a cat, eyes of fire, the\nmouth of a bulldog, the wings of a bat, the claws of a bear, and the\ntail of a serpent. Now this dragon swallows a maiden every day, and now\nthe lot has fallen on Menechella, the daughter of the King. So there is\ngreat weeping and wailing in the royal palace, since the fairest\ncreature in all the land is doomed to be devoured by this horrid beast.\"\n\nWhen Cienzo heard this he stepped aside and saw Menechella pass by with\nthe mourning train, accompanied by the ladies of the court and all the\nwomen of the land, wringing their hands and tearing out their hair by\nhandfuls, and bewailing the sad fate of the poor girl. Then the dragon\ncame out of the cave. But Cienzo laid hold of his sword and struck off\na head in a trice; but the dragon went and rubbed his neck on a certain\nplant which grew not far off, and suddenly the head joined itself on\nagain, like a lizard joining itself to its tail. Cienzo, seeing this,\nexclaimed, \"He who dares not, wins not\"; and, setting his teeth, he\nstruck such a furious blow that he cut off all seven heads, which flew\nfrom the necks like peas from the pan. Whereupon he took out the\ntongues, and putting them in his pocket, he flung the heads a mile\napart from the body, so that they might never come together again. Then\nhe sent Menechella home to her father, and went himself to repose in a\ntavern.\n\nWhen the King saw his daughter his delight is not to be told; and\nhaving heard the manner in which she had been freed, he ordered a\nproclamation to be instantly made, that whosoever had killed the dragon\nshould come and marry the Princess. Now a rascal of a country fellow,\nhearing this proclamation, took the heads of the dragon, and said,\n\"Menechella has been saved by me; these hands have freed the land from\ndestruction; behold the dragon's heads, which are the proofs of my\nvalour; therefore recollect, every promise is a debt.\" As soon as the\nKing heard this, he lifted the crown from his own head and set it upon\nthe countryman's poll, who looked like a thief on the gallows.\n\nThe news of this proclamation flew through the whole country, till at\nlast it came to the ears of Cienzo, who said to himself, \"Verily, I am\na great blockhead! I had hold of Fortune by the forelock, and I let her\nescape out of my hand. Here's a man offers to give me the half of a\ntreasure he finds, and I care no more for it than a German for cold\nwater; the fairy wishes to entertain me in her palace, and I care as\nlittle for it as an ass for music; and now that I am called to the\ncrown, here I stand and let a rascally thief cheat me out of my\ntrump-card!\" So saying he took an inkstand, seized a pen, and spreading\nout a sheet of paper, began to write:\n\n\"To the most beautiful jewel of women, Menechella--Having, by the\nfavour of Sol in Leo, saved thy life, I hear that another plumes\nhimself with my labours, that another claims the reward of the service\nwhich I rendered. Thou, therefore, who wast present at the dragon's\ndeath, canst assure the King of the truth, and prevent his allowing\nanother to gain this reward while I have had all the toil. For it will\nbe the right effect of thy fair royal grace and the merited recompense\nof this strong hero's fist. In conclusion, I kiss thy delicate little\nhands.\n\n\"From the Inn of the Flower-pot, Sunday.\"\n\n\nHaving written this letter, and sealed it with a wafer, he placed it in\nthe mouth of the enchanted dog, saying, \"Run off as fast as you can and\ntake this to the King's daughter. Give it to no one else, but place it\nin the hand of that silver-faced maiden herself.\"\n\nAway ran the dog to the palace as if he were flying, and going up the\nstairs he found the King, who was still paying compliments to the\ncountry clown. When the man saw the dog with the letter in his mouth,\nhe ordered it to be taken from him; but the dog would not give it to\nany one, and bounding up to Menechella he placed it in her hand. Then\nMenechella rose from her seat, and, making a curtsey to the King, she\ngave him the letter to read; and when the King had read it he ordered\nthat the dog should be followed to see where he went, and that his\nmaster should be brought before him. So two of the courtiers\nimmediately followed the dog, until they came to the tavern, where they\nfound Cienzo; and, delivering the message from the King, they conducted\nhim to the palace, into the presence of the King. Then the King\ndemanded how it was that he boasted of having killed the dragon, since\nthe heads were brought by the man who was sitting crowned at his side.\nAnd Cienzo answered, \"That fellow deserves a pasteboard mitre rather\nthan a crown, since he has had the impudence to tell you a bouncing\nlie. But to prove to you that I have done the deed and not this rascal,\norder the heads to be produced. None of them can speak to the proof\nwithout a tongue, and these I have brought with me as witnesses to\nconvince you of the truth.\"\n\nSo saying he pulled the tongues out of his pocket, while the countryman\nwas struck all of a heap, not knowing what would be the end of it; and\nthe more so when Menechella added, \"This is the man! Ah, you dog of a\ncountryman, a pretty trick you have played me!\" When the King heard\nthis, he took the crown from the head of that false loon and placed it\non that of Cienzo; and he was on the point of sending the imposter to\nthe galleys, but Cienzo begged the King to have mercy on him and to\nconfound his wickedness with courtesy. Then he married Menechella, and\nthe tables were spread and a royal banquet was set forth; and in the\nmorning they sent for Antoniello with all his family; and Antoniello\nsoon got into great favour with the King, and saw in the person of his\nson the saying verified--\n\n    \"A straight port to a crooked ship.\"\n\n\n\nVIII\n\nGOAT-FACE\n\nAll the ill-deeds that a man commits have some colour of excuse--either\ncontempt which provokes, need which compels, love which blinds, or\nanger which breaks the neck.  But ingratitude is a thing that has no\nexcuse, true or false, upon which it can fix; and it is therefore the\nworst of vices, since it dries up the fountain of compassion,\nextinguishes the fire of love, closes the road to benefits, and causes\nvexation and repentance to spring up in the hearts of the ungrateful.\nAs you will see in the story which I am about to relate.\n\nA peasant had twelve daughters, not one of whom was a head taller than\nthe next; for every year their mother presented him with a little girl;\nso that the poor man, to support his family decently, went early every\nmorning as a day labourer and dug hard the whole day long. With what\nhis labour produced he just kept his little ones from dying of hunger.\n\nHe happened, one day, to be digging at the foot of a mountain, the spy\nof other mountains, that thrust its head above the clouds to see what\nthey were doing up in the sky, and close to a cavern so deep and dark\nthat the sun was afraid to enter it. Out of this cavern there came a\ngreen lizard as big as a crocodile; and the poor man was so terrified\nthat he had not the power to run away, expecting every moment the end\nof his days from a gulp of that ugly animal. But the lizard,\napproaching him, said, \"Be not afraid, my good man, for I am not come\nhere to do you any harm, but to do you good.\"\n\nWhen Masaniello (for that was the name of the labourer) heard this, he\nfell on his knees and said, \"Mistress What's-your-name, I am wholly in\nyour power. Act then worthily and have compassion on this poor trunk\nthat has twelve branches to support.\"\n\n\"It is on this very account,\" said the lizard, \"that I am disposed to\nserve you; so bring me, to-morrow morning the youngest of your\ndaughters; for I will rear her up like my own child, and love her as my\nlife.\"\n\nAt this the poor father was more confounded than a thief when the\nstolen goods are found on his back. For, hearing the lizard ask him for\none of his daughters, and that too, the tenderest of them, he concluded\nthat the cloak was not without wool on it, and that she wanted the\nchild as a titbit to stay her appetite. Then he said to himself, \"If I\ngive her my daughter, I give her my soul. If I refuse her, she will\ntake this body of mine. If I yield her, I am robbed of my heart; if I\ndeny her she will suck out my blood. If I consent, she takes away part\nof myself; if I refuse, she takes the whole. What shall I resolve on?\nWhat course shall I take? What expedient shall I adopt? Oh, what an ill\nday's work have I made of it! What a misfortune has rained down from\nheaven upon me!\"\n\nWhile he was speaking thus, the lizard said, \"Resolve quickly and do\nwhat I tell you; or you will leave only your rags here. For so I will\nhave it, and so it will be.\" Masaniello, hearing this decree and having\nno one to whom he could appeal, returned home quite melancholy, as\nyellow in the face as if he had jaundice; and his wife, seeing him\nhanging his head like a sick bird and his shoulders like one that is\nwounded, said to him, \"What has happened to you, husband? Have you had\na quarrel with any one? Is there a warrant out against you? Or is the\nass dead?\"\n\n\"Nothing of that sort,\" said Masaniello, \"but a horned lizard has put\nme into a fright, for she has threatened that if I do not bring her our\nyoungest daughter, she will make me suffer for it. My head is turning\nlike a reel. I know not what fish to take. On one side love constrains\nme; on the other the burden of my family. I love Renzolla dearly, I\nlove my own life dearly. If I do not give the lizard this portion of my\nheart, she will take the whole compass of my unfortunate body. So now,\ndear wife, advise me, or I am ruined!\"\n\nWhen his wife heard this, she said, \"Who knows, husband, but this may\nbe a lizard with two tails, that will make our fortune? Who knows but\nthis lizard may put an end to all our miseries? How often, when we\nshould have an eagle's sight to discern the good luck that is running\nto meet us, we have a cloth before our eyes and the cramp in our hands,\nwhen we should lay hold on it. So go, take her away, for my heart tells\nme that some good fortune awaits the poor little thing!\"\n\nThese words comforted Masaniello; and the next morning, as soon as the\nSun with the brush of his rays whitewashed the Sky, which the shades of\nnight had blackened, he took the little girl by the hand, and led her\nto the cave. Then the lizard came out, and taking the child gave the\nfather a bag full of crowns, saying, \"Go now, be happy, for Renzolla\nhas found both father and mother.\"\n\nMasaniello, overjoyed, thanked the lizard and went home to his wife.\nThere was money enough for portions to all the other daughters when\nthey married, and even then the old folks had sauce remaining for\nthemselves to enable them to swallow with relish the toils of life.\n\nThen the lizard made a most beautiful palace for Renzolla, and brought\nher up in such state and magnificence as would have dazzled the eyes of\nany queen. She wanted for nothing. Her food was fit for a count, her\nclothing for a princess. She had a hundred maidens to wait upon her,\nand with such good treatment she grew as sturdy as an oak-tree.\n\nIt happened, as the King was out hunting in those parts, that night\novertook him, and as he stood looking round, not knowing where to lay\nhis head, he saw a candle shining in the palace. So he sent one of his\nservants, to ask the owner to give him shelter. When the servant came\nto the palace, the lizard appeared before him in the shape of a\nbeautiful lady; who, after hearing his message, said that his master\nshould be a thousand times welcome, and that neither bread nor knife\nshould there be wanting. The King, on hearing this reply, went to the\npalace and was received like a cavalier. A hundred pages went out to\nmeet him, so that it looked like the funeral of a rich man. A hundred\nother pages brought the dishes to the table. A hundred others made a\nbrave noise with musical instruments. But, above all, Renzolla served\nthe King and handed him drink with such grace that he drank more love\nthan wine.\n\nWhen he had thus been so royally entertained, he felt he could not live\nwithout Renzolla; so, calling the fairy, he asked her for his wife.\nWhereupon the fairy, who wished for nothing but Renzolla's good, not\nonly freely consented, but gave her a dowry of seven millions of gold.\n\nThe King, overjoyed at this piece of good fortune, departed with\nRenzolla, who, ill-mannered and ungrateful for all the fairy had done\nfor her, went off with her husband without uttering one single word of\nthanks. Then the fairy, beholding such ingratitude, cursed her, and\nwished that her face should become like that of a she-goat; and hardly\nhad she uttered the words, when Renzolla's mouth stretched out, with a\nbeard a span long on it, her jaws shrunk, her skin hardened, her cheeks\ngrew hairy, and her plaited tresses turned to pointed horns.\n\nWhen the poor King saw this he was thunderstruck, not knowing what had\nhappened that so great a beauty should be thus transformed; and, with\nsighs and tears he exclaimed, \"Where are the locks that bound me? Where\nare the eyes that transfixed me? Must I then be the husband of a\nshe-goat? No, no, my heart shall not break for such a goat-face!\" So\nsaying, as soon as they reached his palace, he put Renzolla into a\nkitchen, along with a chambermaid; and gave to each of them ten bundles\nof flax to spin, commanding them to have the thread ready at the end of\na week.\n\nThe maid, in obedience to the King, set about carding the flax,\npreparing and putting it on the distaff, twirling her spindle, reeling\nit and working away without ceasing; so that on Saturday evening her\nthread was all done. But Renzolla, thinking she was still the same as\nin the fairy's house, not having looked at herself in the glass, threw\nthe flax out of the window, saying, \"A pretty thing indeed of the King\nto set me such work to do! If he wants shirts let him buy them, and not\nfancy that he picked me up out of the gutter. But let him remember that\nI brought him home seven millions of gold, and that I am his wife and\nnot his servant. Methinks, too, that he is somewhat of a donkey to\ntreat me this way!\"\n\nNevertheless, when Saturday morning came, seeing that the maid had spun\nall her share of the flax, Renzolla was greatly afraid; so away she\nwent to the palace of the fairy and told her misfortune. Then the fairy\nembraced her with great affection, and gave her a bag full of spun\nthread, to present to the King and show him what a notable and\nindustrious housewife she was. Renzolla took the bag, and without\nsaying one word of thanks, went to the royal palace; so again the fairy\nwas quite angered at the conduct of the graceless girl.\n\nWhen the King had taken the thread, he gave two little dogs, one to\nRenzolla and one to the maid, telling them to feed and rear them. The\nmaid reared hers on bread crumbs and treated it like a child; but\nRenzolla grumbled, saying, \"A pretty thing truly! As my grandfather\nused to say, Are we living under the Turks? Am I indeed to comb and\nwait upon dogs?\" and she flung the dog out of the window!\n\nSome months afterwards, the King asked for the dogs; whereat Renzolla,\nlosing heart, ran off again to the fairy, and at the gate stood the old\nman who was the porter. \"Who are you,\" said he, \"and whom do you want?\"\nRenzolla, hearing herself addressed in this off-hand way, replied,\n\"Don't you know me, you old goat-beard?\"\n\n\"Why do you miscall me?\" said the porter. \"This is the thief accusing\nthe constable. I a goat-beard indeed! You are a goat-beard and a half,\nand you merit it and worse for your presumption. Wait awhile, you\nimpudent woman; I'll enlighten you and you will see to what your airs\nand impertinence have brought you!\"\n\nSo saying, he ran into his room, and taking a looking-glass, set it\nbefore Renzolla; who, when she saw her ugly, hairy visage, was like to\nhave died with terror. Her dismay at seeing her face so altered that\nshe did not know herself cannot be told. Whereupon the old man said to\nher, \"You ought to recollect, Renzolla, that you are a daughter of a\npeasant and that it was the fairy that raised you to be a queen. But\nyou, rude, unmannerly, and thankless as you are, having little\ngratitude for such high favours, have kept her waiting outside your\nheart, without showing the slightest mark of affection. You have\nbrought the quarrel on yourself; see what a face you have got by it!\nSee to what you are brought by your ingratitude; for through the\nfairy's spell you have not only changed face, but condition. But if you\nwill do as this white-beard advises, go and look for the fairy; throw\nyourself at her feet, tear your beard, beat your breast, and ask pardon\nfor the ill-treatment you have shown her. She is tender-hearted and she\nwill be moved to pity by your misfortune.\"\n\nRenzolla, who was touched to the quick, and felt that he had hit the\nnail on the head, followed the old man's advice. Then the fairy\nembraced and kissed her; and restoring her to her former appearance,\nshe clad her in a robe that was quite heavy with gold; and placing her\nin a magnificent coach, accompanied with a crowd of servants, she\nbrought her to the King. When the King beheld her, so beautiful and\nsplendidly attired, he loved her as his own life; blaming himself for\nall the misery he had made her endure, but excusing himself on account\nof that odious goat-face which had been the cause of it. Thus Renzolla\nlived happy, loving her husband, honouring the fairy, and showing\nherself grateful to the old man, having learned to her cost that--\n\n    \"It is always good to be mannerly.\"\n\n\n\nIX\n\nTHE ENCHANTED DOE\n\nGreat is the power of friendship, which makes us willingly bear toils\nand perils to serve a friend. We value our wealth as a trifle and life\nas a straw, when we can give them for a friend's sake. Fables teach us\nthis and history is full of instances of it; and I will give you an\nexample which my grandmother used to relate to me. So open your ears\nand shut your mouths and hear what I shall tell you.\n\nThere was once a certain King of Long-Trellis named Giannone, who,\ndesiring greatly to have children, continually made prayers to the gods\nthat they would grant his wish; and, in order to incline them the more\nto his petition, he was so charitable to beggars and pilgrims that he\nshared with them all he possessed. But seeing, at last, that these\nthings availed him nothing; and that there was no end to putting his\nhand into his pocket, he bolted fast his door, and shot with a\ncross-bow at all who came near.\n\nNow it happened one day, that a long-bearded pilgrim was passing that\nway, and not knowing that the King had turned over a new leaf, or\nperhaps knowing it and wishing to make him change his mind again, he\nwent to Giannone and begged for shelter in his house. But, with a\nfierce look and terrible growl, the King said to him, \"If you have no\nother candle than this, you may go to bed in the dark. The kittens have\ntheir eyes open, and I am no longer a child.\" And when the old man\nasked what was the cause of this change, the King replied, \"To further\nmy desire for children, I have spent and lent to all who came and all\nwho went, and have squandered all my treasure. At last, seeing the\nbeard was gone, I stopped shaving and laid aside the razor.\"\n\n\"If that be all,\" replied the pilgrim, \"you may set your mind at rest,\nfor I promise that your wish shall forthwith be fulfilled, on pain of\nlosing my ears.\"\n\n\"Be it so,\" said the King, \"I pledge my word that I will give you one\nhalf of my kingdom.\" And the man answered, \"Listen now to me--if you\nwish to hit the mark, you have only to get the heart of a sea-dragon,\nand have it cooked and eaten by the Queen, and you will see that what I\nsay will speedily come to pass.\"\n\n\"That hardly seems possible,\" said the King, \"but at the worst I lose\nnothing by the trial; so I must, this very moment, get the dragon's\nheart.\"\n\nSo he sent a hundred fishermen out; and they got ready all kinds of\nfishing-tackle, drag-nets, casting-nets, seine-nets, bow-nets, and\nfishing-lines; and they tacked and turned and cruised in all directions\nuntil at last they caught a dragon; then they took out its heart and\nbrought it to the King, who gave it to the Queen to cook and eat. And\nwhen she had eaten it, there was great rejoicing, for the King's desire\nwas fulfilled and he became the father of two sons, so like the other\nthat nobody but the Queen could tell which was which. And the boys grew\nup together in such love for one another that they could not be parted\nfor a moment. Their attachment was so great that the Queen began to be\njealous, at seeing that the son whom she destined to be heir to his\nfather, and whose name was Fonzo, testified more affection for his\nbrother Canneloro than he did for herself. And she knew not in what way\nto remove this thorn from her eyes.\n\nNow one day Fonzo wished to go a-hunting with his brother; so he had a\nfire lighted in his chamber and began to melt lead to make bullets; and\nbeing in want of I know not what, he went himself to look for it.\nMeanwhile the Queen came in, and finding no one there but Canneloro,\nshe thought to put him out of the world. So stooping down, she flung\nthe hot bullet-mould at his face, which hit him over the brow and made\nan ugly wound. She was just going to repeat the blow when Fonzo came\nin; so, pretending that she was only come in to see how he was, she\ngave him some caresses and went away.\n\nCanneloro, pulling his hat down on his forehead, said nothing of his\nwound to Fonzo, but stood quite quiet though he was burning with the\npain. But as soon as they had done making the balls, he told his\nbrother that he must leave him. Fonzo, all in amazement at this new\nresolution, asked him the reason: but he replied, \"Enquire no more, my\ndear Fonzo, let it suffice that I am obliged to go away and part with\nyou, who are my heart and my soul and the breath of my body. Since it\ncannot be otherwise, farewell, and keep me in remembrance.\" Then after\nembracing one another and shedding many tears, Canneloro went to his\nown room. He put on a suit of armour and a sword and armed himself from\ntop to toe; and, having taken a horse out of the stable, he was just\nputting his foot into the stirrup when Fonzo came weeping and said,\n\"Since you are resolved to abandon me, you should, at least, leave me\nsome token of your love, to diminish my anguish for your absence.\"\nThereupon Canneloro struck his dagger into the ground, and instantly a\nfine fountain rose up. Then said he to his twin-brother, \"This is the\nbest memorial I can leave you. By the flowing of this fountain you will\nfollow the course of my life. If you see it run clear, know that my\nlife is likewise clear and tranquil. If it is turbid, think that I am\npassing through troubles; and if it is dry, depend on it that the oil\nof my life is all consumed and that I have paid the toll which belongs\nto Nature!\"\n\nThen he drove his sword into the ground, and immediately a myrtle-tree\ngrew up, when he said, \"As long as this myrtle is green, know that I\ntoo am green as a leek. If you see it wither, think that my fortunes\nare not the best in this world; but if it becomes quite dried up, you\nmay mourn for your Canneloro.\"\n\nSo saying, after embracing one another again, Canneloro set out on his\ntravels; journeying on and on, with many adventures which it would be\ntoo long to recount--he at length arrived at the Kingdom of\nClear-Water, just at the time when they were holding a most splendid\ntournament, the hand of the King's daughter being promised to the\nvictor. Here Canneloro presented himself and bore him so bravely that\nhe overthrew all the knights who were come from divers parts to gain a\nname for themselves. Whereupon he married the Princess Fenicia, and a\ngreat feast was made.\n\nWhen Canneloro had been there some months in peace and quiet, an\nunhappy fancy came into his head for going to the chase. He told it to\nthe King, who said to him, \"Take care, my son-in-law; do not be\ndeluded. Be wise and keep open your eyes, for in these woods is a most\nwicked ogre who changes his form every day, one time appearing like a\nwolf, at another like a lion, now like a stag, now like an ass, like\none thing and now like another. By a thousand stratagems he decoys\nthose who are so unfortunate as to meet him into a cave, where he\ndevours them. So, my son, do not put your safety into peril, or you\nwill leave your rags there.\"\n\nCanneloro, who did not know what fear was, paid no heed to the advice\nof his father-in-law. As soon as the Sun with the broom of his rays had\ncleared away the soot of the Night he set out for the chase; and, on\nhis way, he came to a wood where, beneath the awning of the leaves, the\nShades has assembled to maintain their sway, and to make a conspiracy\nagainst the Sun. The ogre, seeing him coming, turned himself into a\nhandsome doe; which, as soon as Canneloro perceived he began to give\nchase to her. Then the doe doubled and turned, and led him about hither\nand thither at such a rate, that at last she brought him into the very\nheart of the wood, where she raised such a tremendous snow-storm that\nit looked as if the sky was going to fall. Canneloro, finding himself\nin front of a cave, went into it to seek for shelter; and being\nbenumbed with the cold, he gathered some sticks which he found within\nit, and pulling his steel from his pocket, he kindled a large fire. As\nhe was standing by the fire to dry his clothes, the doe came to the\nmouth of the cave, and said, \"Sir Knight, pray give me leave to warm\nmyself a little while, for I am shivering with the cold.\"\n\nCanneloro, who was of a kindly disposition, said to her, \"Draw near,\nand welcome.\"\n\n\"I would gladly,\" replied the doe, \"but I am afraid you would kill me.\"\n\n\"Fear nothing,\" answered Canneloro, \"trust to my word.\"\n\n\"If you wish me to enter,\" rejoined the doe, \"tie up those dogs, that\nthey may not hurt me, and tie up your horse that he may not kick me.\"\n\nSo Canneloro tied up his dogs and hobbled his horse, and the doe said,\n\"I am now half assured, but unless you bind fast your sword, I dare not\ncome in.\" Then Canneloro, who wished to become friends with the doe,\nbound his sword as a countryman does, when he carries it in the city\nfor fear of the constables. As soon as the ogre saw Canneloro\ndefenceless, he re-took his own form, and laying hold on him, flung him\ninto a pit at the bottom of the cave, and covered it up with a\nstone--to keep him to eat.\n\nBut Fonzo, who, morning and evening visited the myrtle and the\nfountain, to learn news of the fate of Canneloro, finding the one\nwithered and the other troubled, instantly thought that his brother was\nundergoing misfortunes. So, to help him, he mounted his horse without\nasking leave of his father or mother; and arming himself well and\ntaking two enchanted dogs, he went rambling through the world. He\nroamed and rambled here, there, and everywhere until, at last, he came\nto Clear-Water, which he found all in mourning for the supposed death\nof Canneloro. And scarcely was he come to the court, when every one,\nthinking, from the likeness he bore him, that it was Canneloro,\nhastened to tell Fenicia the good news, who ran leaping down the\nstairs, and embracing Fonzo cried, \"My husband! my heart! where have\nyou been all this time?\"\n\nFonzo immediately perceived that Canneloro had come to this country and\nhad left it again; so he resolved to examine the matter adroitly, to\nlearn from the Princess's discourse where his brother might be found.\nAnd, hearing her say that he had put himself in great danger by that\naccursed hunting, especially if the cruel ogre should meet him, he at\nonce concluded that Canneloro must be there.\n\nThe next morning, as soon as the Sun had gone forth to give the gilded\nfrills to the Sky, he jumped out of bed, and neither the prayers of\nFenicia, nor the commands of the King could keep him back, but he would\ngo to the chase. So, mounting his horse, he went with the enchanted\ndogs to the wood, where the same thing befell him that had befallen\nCanneloro; and, entering the cave, he saw his brother's arms and dogs\nand horse fast bound, by which he became assured of the nature of the\nsnare. Then the doe told him in like manner to tie his arms, dogs, and\nhorse, but he instantly set them upon her and they tore her to pieces.\nAnd as he was looking about for some traces of his brother, he heard\nhis voice down in the pit; so, lifting up the stone, he drew out\nCanneloro, with all the others whom the ogre had buried alive to\nfatten. Then embracing each other with great joy, the twin-brothers\nwent home, where Fenicia, seeing them so much alike, did not know which\nto choose for her husband, until Canneloro took off his cap and she saw\nthe mark of the old wound and recognised him. Fonzo stayed there a\nmonth, taking his pleasure, and then wished to return to his own\ncountry, and Canneloro wrote by him to his mother, bidding her lay\naside her enmity and come and visit him and partake of his greatness,\nwhich she did. But from that time forward, he never would hear of dogs\nor of hunting, recollecting the saying--\n\n\"Unhappy is he who corrects himself at his own cost.\"\n\n\n\nX\n\nPARSLEY\n\nThis is one of the stories which that good soul, my uncle's grandmother\n(whom Heaven take to glory), used to tell; and, unless I have put on my\nspectacles upside down, I fancy it will give you pleasure.\n\nThere was, once upon a time, a woman named Pascadozzia, and one day,\nwhen she was standing at her window, which looked into the garden of an\nogress, she saw such a fine bed of parsley that she almost fainted away\nwith desire for some. So when the ogress went out she could not\nrestrain herself any longer, but plucked a handful of it. The ogress\ncame home and was going to cook her pottage when she found that some\none had been stealing the parsley, and said, \"Ill luck to me, but I'll\ncatch this long-fingered rogue and make him repent it; I'll teach him\nto his cost that every one should eat off his own platter and not\nmeddle with other folks' cups.\"\n\nThe poor woman went again and again down into the garden, until one\nmorning the ogress met her, and in a furious rage exclaimed, \"Have I\ncaught you at last, you thief, you rogue; prithee, do you pay the rent\nof the garden that you come in this impudent way and steal my plants?\nBy my faith, I'll make you do penance without sending you to Rome.\"\n\nPoor Pascadozzia, in a terrible fright, began to make excuses, saying\nthat neither from gluttony nor the craving of hunger had she been\ntempted by the devil to commit this fault, but from her fear lest her\nchild should be born with a crop of parsley on its face.\n\n\"Words are but wind,\" answered the ogress, \"I am not to be caught with\nsuch prattle; you have closed the balance-sheet of life, unless you\npromise to give me the child, girl or boy, whichever it may be.\"\n\nThe poor woman, in order to escape the peril in which she found\nherself, swore, with one hand upon the other, to keep the promise, and\nso the ogress let her go free. But when the baby came it was a little\ngirl, so beautiful that she was a joy to look upon, who was named\nParsley. The little girl grew from day to day until, when she was seven\nyears old, her mother sent her to school, and every time she went along\nthe street and met the ogress the old woman said to her, \"Tell your\nmother to remember her promise.\" And she went on repeating this message\nso often that the poor mother, having no longer patience to listen to\nthe refrain, said one day to Parsley, \"If you meet the old woman as\nusual, and she reminds you of the hateful promise, answer her,  Take\nit.'\"\n\nWhen Parsley, who dreamt of no ill, met the ogress again, and heard her\nrepeat the same words, she answered innocently as her mother had told\nher, whereupon the ogress, seizing her by her hair, carried her off to\na wood which the horses of the Sun never entered, not having paid the\ntoll to the pastures of those Shades. Then she put the poor girl into a\ntower which she caused to arise by her art, having neither gate nor\nladder, but only a little window through which she ascended and\ndescended by means of Parsley's hair, which was very long, just as\nsailors climb up and down the mast of a ship.\n\nNow it happened one day, when the ogress had left the tower, that\nParsley put her head out of the little window and let loose her tresses\nin the sun, and the son of a Prince passing by saw those two golden\nbanners which invited all souls to enlist under the standard of Beauty,\nand, beholding with amazement, in the midst of those gleaming waves, a\nface that enchanted all hearts, he fell desperately in love with such\nwonderful beauty; and, sending her a memorial of sighs, she decreed to\nreceive him into favour. She told him her troubles, and implored him to\nrescue her. But a gossip of the ogress, who was for ever prying into\nthings that did not concern her, and poking her nose into every corner,\noverheard the secret, and told the wicked woman to be on the look-out,\nfor Parsley had been seen talking with a certain youth, and she had her\nsuspicions. The ogress thanked the gossip for the information, and said\nthat she would take good care to stop up the road. As to Parsley, it\nwas, moreover, impossible for her to escape, as she had laid a spell\nupon her, so that unless she had in her hand the three gall-nuts which\nwere in a rafter in the kitchen it would be labour lost to attempt to\nget away.\n\nWhilst they were thus talking together, Parsley, who stood with her\nears wide open and had some suspicion of the gossip, overheard all that\nhad passed. And when Night had spread out her black garments to keep\nthem from the moth, and the Prince had come as they had appointed, she\nlet fall her hair; he seized it with both hands, and cried, \"Draw up.\"\nWhen he was drawn up she made him first climb on to the rafters and\nfind the gall-nuts, knowing well what effect they would have, as she\nhad been enchanted by the ogress. Then, having made a rope-ladder, they\nboth descended to the ground, took to their heels, and ran off towards\nthe city. But the gossip, happening to see them come out, set up a loud\n\"Halloo,\" and began to shout and make such a noise that the ogress\nawoke, and, seeing that Parsley had run away, she descended by the same\nladder, which was still fastened to the window, and set off after the\ncouple, who, when they saw her coming at their heels faster than a\nhorse let loose, gave themselves up for lost. But Parsley, recollecting\nthe gall-nuts, quickly threw one of the ground, and lo, instantly a\nCorsican bulldog started up--O, mother, such a terrible beast!--which,\nwith open jaws and barking loud, flew at the ogress as if to swallow\nher at a mouthful. But the old woman, who was more cunning and spiteful\nthan ever, put her hand into her pocket, and pulling out a piece of\nbread gave it to the dog, which made him hang his tail and allay his\nfury.\n\nThen she turned to run after the fugitives again, but Parsley, seeing\nher approach, threw the second gall-nut on the ground, and lo, a fierce\nlion arose, who, lashing the earth with his tail, and shaking his mane\nand opening wide his jaws a yard apart, was just preparing to make a\nslaughter of the ogress, when, turning quickly back, she stripped the\nskin off an ass which was grazing in the middle of a meadow and ran at\nthe lion, who, fancying it a real jackass, was so frightened that he\nbounded away as fast as he could.\n\nThe ogress having leaped over this second ditch turned again to pursue\nthe poor lovers, who, hearing the clatter of her heels, and seeing\nclouds of dust that rose up to the sky, knew that she was coming again.\nBut the old woman, who was every moment in dread lest the lion should\npursue her, had not taken off the ass's skin, and when Parsley now\nthrew down the third gall-nut there sprang up a wolf, who, without\ngiving the ogress time to play any new trick, gobbled her up just as\nshe was in the shape of a jackass. So Parsley and the Prince, now freed\nfrom danger, went their way leisurely and quietly to the Prince's\nkingdom, where, with his father's free consent, they were married.\nThus, after all these storms of fate, they experienced the truth that--\n\n     \"One hour in port, the sailor, freed from fears,\n      Forgets the tempests of a hundred years.\"\n\n\n\nXI\n\nTHE THREE SISTERS\n\nIt is a great truth that from the same wood are formed the statues of\nidols and the rafters of gallows, kings' thrones and cobblers' stalls;\nand another strange thing is that from the same rags are made the paper\non which the wisdom of sages is recorded, and the crown which is placed\non the head of a fool. The same, too, may be said of children: one\ndaughter is good and another bad; one idle, another a good housewife;\none fair, another ugly; one spiteful, another kind; one unfortunate,\nanother born to good luck, and who being all of one family ought to be\nof one nature. But leaving this subject to those who know more about\nit, I will merely give you an example in the story of the three\ndaughters of the same mother, wherein you will see the difference of\nmanners which brought the wicked daughters into the ditch and the good\ndaughter to the top of the Wheel of Fortune.\n\nThere was at one time a woman who had three daughters, two of whom were\nso unlucky that nothing ever succeeded with them, all their projects\nwent wrong, all their hopes were turned to chaff. But the youngest, who\nwas named Nella, was born to good luck, and I verily believe that at\nher birth all things conspired to bestow on her the best and choicest\ngifts in their power. The Sky gave her the perfection of its light;\nVenus, matchless beauty of form; Love, the first dart of his power;\nNature, the flower of manners. She never set about any work that it did\nnot go off to a nicety; she never took anything in hand that it did not\nsucceed to a hair; she never stood up to dance, that she did not sit\ndown with applause. On which account she was envied by her jealous\nsisters and yet not so much as she was loved and wished well to by all\nothers; as greatly as her sisters desired to put her underground, so\nmuch more did other folks carry her on the palms of their hands.\n\nNow there was in that country an enchanted Prince who was so attracted\nby her beauty that he secretly married her. And in order that they\nmight enjoy one another's company without exciting the suspicion of the\nmother, who was a wicked woman, the Prince made a crystal passage which\nled from the royal palace directly into Nella's apartment, although it\nwas eight miles distant. Then he gave her a certain powder saying,\n\"Every time you wish to see me throw a little of this powder into the\nfire, and instantly I will come through this passage as quick as a\nbird, running along the crystal road to gaze upon this face of silver.\"\n\nHaving arranged it thus, not a night passed that the Prince did not go\nin and out, backwards and forwards, along the crystal passage, until at\nlast the sisters, who were spying the actions of Nella, found out the\nsecret and laid a plan to put a stop to the sport. And in order to cut\nthe thread at once, they went and broke the passage here and there; so\nthat, when the unhappy girl threw the powder into the fire, to give the\nsignal to her husband, the Prince, who used always to come running in\nfurious haste, hurt himself in such a manner against the broken crystal\nthat it was truly a pitiable sight to see. And being unable to pass\nfurther on he turned back all cut and slashed like a Dutchman's\nbreeches. Then he sent for all the doctors in the town; but as the\ncrystal was enchanted the wounds were mortal, and no human remedy\navailed. When the King saw this, despairing of his son's condition, he\nsent out a proclamation that whoever would cure the wounds of the\nPrince--if a woman she should have him for a husband--if a man he\nshould have half his kingdom.\n\nNow when Nella, who was pining away from the loss of the Prince, heard\nthis she dyed her face, disguised herself, and unknown to her sisters\nshe left home to go to see him before his death. But as by this time\nthe Sun's gilded ball with which he plays in the Fields of Heaven, was\nrunning towards the west, night overtook her in a wood close to the\nhouse of an ogre, where, in order to get out of the way of danger, she\nclimbed up into a tree. Meanwhile the ogre and his wife were sitting at\ntable with the windows open in order to enjoy the fresh air while they\nate; as soon as they had emptied their cups and put out the lamps they\nbegan to chat of one thing and another, so that Nella, who was as near\nto them as the mouth to the nose, heard every word they spoke.\n\nAmong other things the ogress said to her husband, \"My pretty\nHairy-Hide, tell me what news; what do they say abroad in the world?\"\nAnd he answered, \"Trust me, there is no hand's breadth clean;\neverything's going topsy-turvy and awry.\" \"But what is it?\" replied his\nwife. \"Why I could tell pretty stories of all the confusion that is\ngoing on,\" replied the ogre, \"for one hears things that are enough to\ndrive one mad, such as buffoons rewarded with gifts, rogues esteemed,\ncowards honoured, robbers protected, and honest men little thought of.\nBut, as these things only vex one, I will merely tell you what has\nbefallen the King's son. He had made a crystal path along which he used\nto go to visit a pretty lass; but by some means or other, I know not\nhow, all the road has been broken; and as he was going along the\npassage as usual, he has wounded himself in such a manner that before\nhe can stop the leak the whole conduit of his life will run out. The\nKing has indeed issued a proclamation with great promises to whoever\ncures his son; but it is all labour lost, and the best he can do is\nquickly to get ready mourning and prepare the funeral.\"\n\nWhen Nella heard the cause of the Prince's illness she sobbed and wept\nbitterly and said to herself, \"Who is the wicked soul who has broken\nthe passage and caused so much sorrow?\" But as the ogress now went on\nspeaking Nella was as silent as a mouse and listened.\n\n\"And is it possible,\" said the ogress, \"that the world is lost to this\npoor Prince, and that no remedy can be found for his malady?\"\n\n\"Hark-ye, Granny,\" replied the ogre, \"the doctors are not called upon\nto find remedies that may pass the bounds of nature. This is not a\nfever that will yield to medicine and diet, much less are these\nordinary wounds which require lint and oil; for the charm that was on\nthe broken glass produces the same effect as onion juice does on the\niron heads of arrows, which makes the wound incurable. There is one\nthing only that could save his life, but don't ask me to tell it to\nyou, for it is a thing of importance.\"\n\n\"Do tell me, dear old Long-tusk,\" cried the ogress; \"tell me, if you\nwould not see me die.\"\n\n\"Well then,\" said the ogre, \"I will tell you provided you promise me\nnot to confide it to any living soul, for it would be the ruin of our\nhouse and the destruction of our lives.\"\n\n\"Fear nothing, my dear, sweet little husband,\" replied the ogress; \"for\nyou shall sooner see pigs with horns, apes with tails, moles with eyes,\nthan a single word shall pass my lips.\" And so saying, she put one hand\nupon the other and swore to it.\n\n\"You must know then,\" said the ogre, \"that there is nothing under the\nsky nor above the ground that can save the Prince from the snares of\ndeath, but our fat. If his wounds are anointed with this his soul will\nbe arrested which is just at the point of leaving the dwelling of his\nbody.\"\n\nNella, who overheard all that passed, gave time to Time to let them\nfinish their chat; and then, getting down from the tree and taking\nheart, she knocked at the ogre's door crying, \"Ah! my good masters, I\npray you for charity, alms, some sign of compassion. Have a little pity\non a poor, miserable, wretched creature who is banished by fate far\nfrom her own country and deprived of all human aid, who has been\novertaken by night in this wood and is dying of cold and hunger.\" And\ncrying thus, she went on knocking and knocking at the door.\n\nUpon hearing this deafening noise, the ogress was going to throw her\nhalf a loaf and send her away. But the ogre, who was more greedy of\nflesh than the squirrel is of nuts, the bear of honey, the cat of fish,\nthe sheep of salt, or the ass of bran, said to his wife, \"Let the poor\ncreature come in, for if she sleeps in the fields, who knows but she\nmay be eaten up by some wolf.\" In short, he talked so much that his\nwife at length opened the door for Nella; whilst with all his pretended\ncharity he was all the time reckoning on making four mouthfuls of her.\nBut the glutton counts one way and the host another; for the ogre and\nhis wife drank till they were fairly tipsy. When they lay down to sleep\nNella took a knife from a cupboard and made a hash of them in a trice.\nThen she put all the fat into a phial, went straight to the court,\nwhere, presenting herself before the King, she offered to cure the\nPrince. At this the King was overjoyed and led her to the chamber of\nhis son, and no sooner had she anointed him well with the fat than the\nwound closed in a moment just as if she had thrown water on the fire,\nand he became sound as a fish.\n\nWhen the King saw this, he said to his son, \"This good woman deserves\nthe reward promised by the proclamation and that you should marry her.\"\nBut the Prince replied, \"It is hopeless, for I have no store-room full\nof hearts in my body to share among so many; my heart is already\ndisposed of, and another woman is already the mistress of it.\" Nella,\nhearing this, replied, \"You should no longer think of her who has been\nthe cause of all your misfortune.\" \"My misfortune has been brought on\nme by her sisters,\" replied the Prince, \"and they shall repent it.\"\n\"Then do you really love her?\" said Nella. And the Prince replied,\n\"More than my own life.\" \"Embrace me then,\" said Nella, \"for I am the\nfire of your heart.\" But the Prince seeing the dark hue of her face\nanswered, \"I would sooner take you for the coal than the fire, so keep\noff--don't blacken me.\" Whereupon Nella, perceiving that he did not\nknow her, called for a basin of clean water and washed her face. As\nsoon as the cloud of soot was removed the sun shone forth; and the\nPrince, recognising her, pressed her to his heart and acknowledged her\nfor his wife. Then he had her sisters thrown into an oven, thus proving\nthe truth of the old saying--\n\n     \"No evil ever went without punishment.\"\n\n\n\nXII\n\nVIOLET\n\nEnvy is a wind which blows with such violence, that it throws down the\nprops of the reputation of good men, and levels with the ground the\ncrops of good fortune. But, very often, as a punishment from Heaven,\nwhen this envious blast seems as if it would cast a person flat on the\nground, it aids him instead of attain the happiness he is expecting\nsooner even than he expected: as you will hear in the story which I\nshall now tell you.\n\nThere was once upon a time a good sort of man named Cola Aniello, who\nhad three daughters, Rose, Pink, and Violet, the last of whom was so\nbeautiful that her very look was a syrup of love, which cured the\nhearts of beholders of all unhappiness. The King's son was burning with\nlove of her, and every time he passed by the little cottage where these\nthree sisters sat at work, he took off his cap and said, \"Good-day,\ngood-day, Violet,\" and she replied, \"Good-day, King's son! I know more\nthan you.\" At these words her sisters grumbled and murmured, saying,\n\"You are an ill-bred creature and will make the Prince in a fine rage.\"\nBut as Violet paid no heed to what they said, they made a spiteful\ncomplaint of her to her father, telling him that she was too bold and\nforward; and that she answered the Prince without any respect, as if\nshe were just as good as he; and that, some day or other, she would get\ninto trouble and suffer the just punishment of her offence. So Cola\nAniello, who was a prudent man, in order to prevent any mischief, sent\nViolet to stay with an aunt, to be set to work.\n\nNow the Prince, when he passed by the house as usual, no longer seeing\nthe object of his love, was for some days like a nightingale that has\nlost her young ones from her nest, and goes from branch to branch\nwailing and lamenting her loss; but he put his ear so often to the\nchink that at last he discovered where Violet lived. Then he went to\nthe aunt, and said to her, \"Madam, you know who I am, and what power I\nhave; so, between ourselves, do me a favour and then ask for whatever\nyou wish.\" \"If I can do anything to serve you,\" replied the old woman,\n\"I am entirely at your command.\" \"I ask nothing of you,\" said the\nPrince, \"but to let me give Violet a kiss.\" \"If that's all,\" answered\nthe old woman, \"go and hide yourself in the room downstairs in the\ngarden, and I will find some pretence or another for sending Violet to\nyou.\"\n\nAs soon as the Prince heard this, he stole into the room without loss\nof time; and the old woman, pretending that she wanted to cut a piece\nof cloth, said to her niece, \"Violet, if you love me, go down and fetch\nme the yard-measure.\" So Violet went, as her aunt bade her, but when\nshe came to the room she perceived the ambush, and, taking the\nyard-measure, she slipped out of the room as nimbly as a cat, leaving\nthe Prince with his nose made long out of pure shame and bursting with\nvexation.\n\nWhen the old woman saw Violet come running so fast, she suspected that\nthe trick had not succeeded; so presently after, she said to the girl,\n\"Go downstairs, niece, and fetch me the ball of thread that is on the\ntop shelf in the cupboard.\" So Violet ran, and taking the thread\nslipped like an eel out of the hands of the Prince. But after a little\nwhile the old woman said again, \"Violet, my dear, if you do not go\ndownstairs and fetch me the scissors, I cannot get on at all.\" Then\nViolet went down again, but she sprang as vigorously as a dog out of\nthe trap, and when she came upstairs she took the scissors and cut off\none of her aunt's ears, saying, \"Take that, madam, as a reward for your\npains--every deed deserves its need. If I don't cut off your nose, it\nis only that you may smell the bad odour of your reputation.\" So\nsaying, she went her way home with a hop, skip, and jump, leaving her\naunt eased of one ear and the Prince full of Let-me-alone.\n\nNot long afterwards, the Prince again passed by the house of Violet's\nfather; and, seeing her at the window where she used to stand, he began\nhis old tune, \"Good-day, good-day, Violet!\" Whereupon she answered as\nquickly as a good parish-clerk, \"Good-day, King's son! I know more than\nyou.\" But Violet's sisters could no longer bear this behaviour, and\nthey plotted together how to get rid of her. Now, one of the windows\nlooked into the garden of an ogre, so they proposed to drive the poor\ngirl away through this; and letting fall from it a skein of thread with\nwhich they were working a door-curtain for the queen, they cried,\n\"Alas! alas! we are ruined and shall not be able to finish the work in\ntime, if Violet, who is the smallest and lightest of us, does not let\nherself down by a cord and pick up the thread that has fallen.\"\n\nViolet could not endure to see her sisters grieving thus, and instantly\noffered to go down; so, tying a cord to her, they lowered her into the\ngarden. But no sooner did she reach the ground than they let go the\nrope. It happened that just at that time the ogre came out to look at\nhis garden, and having caught cold from the dampness of the ground, he\ngave such a tremendous sneeze, with such a noise and explosion, that\nViolet screamed out with terror, \"Oh, mother, help me!\" Thereupon the\nogre looked round and seeing the beautiful maiden behind him, he\nreceived her with the greatest care and affection; and treating her as\nhis own daughter, he gave her in charge of three fairies, bidding them\ntake care of her, and rear her up on cherries.\n\nThe Prince no longer seeing Violet, and hearing no news of her, good or\nbad, fell into such grief that his eyes became swollen, his face became\npale as ashes, his lips livid; and he neither ate a morsel to get flesh\non his body, nor slept a wink to get any rest to his mind. But trying\nall possible means and offering large rewards, he went about spying and\ninquiring everywhere until, at last, he discovered where Violet was.\nThen he sent for the ogre and told him that, finding himself ill (as he\nmight see was the case) he begged of him permission to spend a single\nday and night in his garden, adding that a small chamber would suffice\nfor him to repose in. Now, as the ogre was a subject of the Prince's\nfather he could not refuse him this trifling pleasure; so he offered\nhim all the rooms in his house; if one was not enough, and his very\nlife itself. The Prince thanked him, and chose a room which by good\nluck was near to Violet's; and, as soon as Night came out to play games\nwith the Stars, the Prince, finding that Violet had left her door open,\nas it was summertime and the place was safe, stole softly into her\nroom, and taking Violet's arm he gave her two pinches. Then she awoke\nand exclaimed, \"Oh, father, father, what a quantity of fleas!\" So she\nwent to another bed and the Prince did the same again and she cried out\nas before. Then she changed first the mattress and then the sheet; and\nso the sport went on the whole night long, until the Dawn, having\nbrought the news that the Sun was alive, the mourning that was hung\nround the sky was all removed.\n\nAs soon as it was day, the Prince, passing by that house, and seeing\nthe maiden at the door, said, as he was wont to do, \"Good-day,\ngood-day, Violet!\" and when Violet replied, \"Good-day, King's son! I\nknow more than you!\" the Prince answered, \"Oh, father, father, what a\nquantity of fleas!\"\n\nThe instant Violet felt this shot she guessed at once that the Prince\nhad been the cause of her annoyance in the past night; so off she ran\nand told it to the fairies. \"If it be he,\" said the fairies, \"we will\nsoon give him tit for tat and as good in return. If this dog has bitten\nyou, we will manage to get a hair from him. He has give you one, we\nwill give him back one and a half. Only get the ogre to make you a pair\nof slippers covered with little bells, and leave the rest to us. We\nwill pay him in good coin.\"\n\nViolet, who was eager to be revenged, instantly got the ogre to make\nthe slippers for her; and, waiting till the Sky, like a Genoese woman,\nhad wrapped the black taffety round her face, they went, all four\ntogether, to the house of the Prince, where the fairies and Violet hid\nthemselves in the chamber. And as soon as ever the Prince had closed\nhis eyes the fairies made a great noise and racket, and Violet began to\nstamp with her feet at such a rate that, what with the clatter of her\nheels and the jingling of her bells, the Prince awoke in great terror\nand cried out, \"Oh, mother, mother, help me!\" And after repeating this\ntwo or three times, they slipped away home.\n\nThe next morning the Prince went to take a walk in the garden, for he\ncould not live a moment without the sight of Violet, who was a pink of\npinks. And seeing her standing at the door, he said, \"Good-day,\ngood-day, Violet!\" And Violet answered, \"Good-day, King's son! I know\nmore than you!\" Then the Prince said, \"Oh, father, father, what a\nquantity of fleas!\" But Violet replied, \"Oh, mother, mother, help me!\"\n\nWhen the Prince heard this, he said to Violet, \"You have won--your wits\nare better than mine. I yield--you have conquered. And now that I see\nyou really know more than I do, I will marry you without more ado.\" So\nhe called the ogre and asked her of him for his wife; but the ogre said\nit was not his affair, for he had learned that very morning that Violet\nwas the daughter of Cola Aniello. So the Prince ordered her father to\nbe called and told him of the good fortune that was in store for his\ndaughter; whereupon the marriage feast was celebrated with great joy,\nand the truth of the saying was seen that--\n\n     \"A fair maiden soon gets wed.\"\n\n\n\nXIII\n\nPIPPO\n\nIngratitude is a nail, which, driven into the tree of courtesy, causes\nit to wither. It is a broken channel by which the foundations of\naffection are undermined; and a lump of soot, which, falling into the\ndish of friendship, destroys its scent and savour--as is seen in daily\ninstances, and, amongst others, in the story which I will now tell you.\n\nThere was one time in my dear city of Naples an old man who was as poor\nas poor could be. He was so wretched, so bare, so light, and with not a\nfarthing in his pocket, that he went naked as a flea. And being about\nto shake out the bags of life, he called to him his sons, Oratiello and\nPippo, and said to them, \"I am now called upon by the tenor of my bill\nto pay the debt I owe to Nature. Believe me, I should feel great\npleasure in quitting this abode of misery, this den of woes, but that I\nleave you here behind me--a pair of miserable fellows, as big as a\nchurch, without a stitch upon your backs, as clean as a barber's basin,\nas nimble as a serjeant, as dry as a plum-stone, without so much as a\nfly can carry upon its foot; so that, were you to run a hundred miles,\nnot a farthing would drop from you. My ill-fortune has indeed brought\nme to such beggary that I lead the life of a dog, for I have all along,\nas well you know, gaped with hunger and gone to bed without a candle.\nNevertheless, now that I am a-dying, I wish to leave you some token of\nmy love. So do you, Oratiello, who are my first-born, take the sieve\nthat hangs yonder against the wall, with which you can earn your bread;\nand do you, little fellow, take the cat and remember your daddy!\" So\nsaying, he began to whimper; and presently after said, \"God be with\nyou--for it is night!\"\n\nOratiello had his father buried by charity; and then took the sieve and\nwent riddling here, there, and everywhere to gain a livelihood; and the\nmore he riddled, the more he earned. But Pippo, taking the cat, said,\n\"Only see now what a pretty legacy my father has left me! I, who am not\nable to support myself, must now provide for two. Whoever beheld so\nmiserable an inheritance?\" Then the cat, who overheard this\nlamentation, said to him, \"You are grieving without need, and have more\nluck than sense. You little know the good fortune in store for you; and\nthat I am able to make you rich if I set about it.\" When Pippo had\nheard this, he thanked Her Pussyship, stroked her three or four times\non the back, and commended himself warmly to her. So the cat took\ncompassion on poor Pippo; and, every morning, when the Sun, with the\nbait of light on his golden hook, fishes for the shakes of Night, she\nbetook herself to the shore, and catching a goodly grey mullet or a\nfine dory, she carried it to the King and said, \"My Lord Pippo, your\nMajesty's most humble slave, sends you this fish with all reverence,\nand says,  A small present to a great lord.'\" Then the King, with a\njoyful face, as one usually shows to those who bring a gift, answered\nthe cat, \"Tell this lord, whom I do not know, that I thank him\nheartily.\"\n\nAgain, the cat would run to the marshes or the fields, and when the\nfowlers had brought down a blackbird, a snipe, or a lark, she caught it\nup and presented it to the King with the same message. She repeated\nthis trick again and again, until one morning the King said to her, \"I\nfeel infinitely obliged to this Lord Pippo, and am desirous of knowing\nhim, that I may make a return for the kindness he has shown me.\" And\nthe cat replied, \"The desire of my Lord Pippo is to give his life for\nyour Majesty's crown; and tomorrow morning, without fail, as soon as\nthe Sun has set fire to the stubble of the fields of air, he will come\nand pay his respects to you.\"\n\nSo when the morning came, the cat went to the King, and said to him:\n\"Sire, my Lord Pippo sends to excuse himself for not coming, as last\nnight some of his servants robbed him and ran off, and have not left\nhim a single shirt to his back.\" When the King heard this, he instantly\ncommanded his retainers to take out of his own wardrobe a quantity of\nclothes and linen, and sent them to Pippo; and, before two hours had\npassed, Pippo went to the palace, conducted by the cat, where he\nreceived a thousand compliments from the King, who made him sit beside\nhimself, and gave him a banquet that would amaze you.\n\nWhile they were eating, Pippo from time to time turned to the cat and\nsaid to her, \"My pretty puss, pray take care that those rags don't slip\nthrough our fingers.\" Then the cat answered, \"Be quiet, be quiet; don't\nbe talking of these beggarly things.\" The King, wishing to know the\nsubject of their talk, the cat made answer that Pippo had taken a fancy\nto a small lemon; whereupon the King instantly sent out to the garden\nfor a basketful. But Pippo returned to the same tune about the old\ncoats and shirts, and the cat again told him to hold his tongue. Then\nthe King once more asked what was the matter, and the cat had another\nexcuse to make amends for Pippo's rudeness.\n\nAt last, when they had eaten and conversed for some time about one\nthing and another, Pippo took his leave; and the cat stayed with the\nKing, describing the worth, the wisdom, and the judgment of Pippo; and,\nabove all, the great wealth he had in the plains of Rome and Lombardy,\nwhich well entitled him to marry even into the family of a crowned\nKing. Then the King asked what might be his fortune; and the cat\nreplied that no one could ever count the moveables, the fixtures, and\nthe household furniture of this rich man, who did not even know what he\npossessed. If the King wished to be informed of it, he had only to send\nmessengers with the cat, and she would prove to him that there was no\nwealth in the world equal to his.\n\nThen the King called some trusty persons, and commanded them to inform\nthemselves minutely of the truth; so they followed in the footsteps of\nthe cat, who, as soon as they had passed the frontier of the kingdom,\nfrom time to time ran on before, under the pretext of providing\nrefreshments for them on the road. Whenever she met a flock of sheep, a\nherd of cows, a troop of horses, or a drove of pigs, she would say to\nthe herdsmen and keepers, \"Ho! have a care! A troop of robbers is\ncoming to carry off everything in the country. So if you wish to escape\ntheir fury, and to have your things respected, say that they all belong\nto the Lord Pippo, and not a hair will be touched.\"\n\nShe said the same at all the farmhouses, so that wherever the King's\npeople came they found the pipe tuned; for everything they met with,\nthey were told, belonged to the Lord Pippo. At last they were tired of\nasking, and returned to the King, telling seas and mountains of the\nriches of Lord Pippo. The King, hearing this report, promised the cat a\ngood drink if she should manage to bring about the match; and the cat,\nplaying the shuttle between them, at last concluded the marriage. So\nPippo came, and the King gave him his daughter and a large portion.\n\nAt the end of a month of festivities, Pippo wished to take his bride to\nhis estates, so the King accompanied them as far as the frontiers; and\nhe went on to Lombardy, where, by the cat's advice, he purchased a\nlarge estate and became a baron.\n\nPippo, seeing himself now so rich, thanked the cat more than words can\nexpress, saying that he owed his life and his greatness to her good\noffices; and that the ingenuity of a cat had done more for him that the\nwit of his father. Therefore, said he, she might dispose of his life\nand his property as she pleased; and he gave her his word that when she\ndied, which he prayed might not be for a hundred years, he would have\nher embalmed and put into a golden coffin, and set in his own chamber,\nthat he might keep her memory always before his eyes.\n\nThe cat listened to these lavish professions; and before three days she\npretended to be dead, and stretched herself at full length in the\ngarden. When Pippo's wife saw her, she cried out, \"Oh, husband, what a\nsad misfortune! The cat is dead!\" \"Devil die with her!\" said Pippo.\n\"Better her than we!\" \"What shall we do with her?\" replied the wife.\n\"Take her by the leg,\" said he, \"and fling her out of the window!\"\n\nThen the cat, who heard this fine reward when she least expected it,\nbegan to say, \"Is this the return you make for my taking you from\nbeggary? Are these the thanks I get for freeing you from rags that you\nmight have hung distaffs with? Is this my reward for having put good\nclothes on your back when you were a poor, starved, miserable,\ntatter-shod ragamuffin? But such is the fate of him who washes an ass's\nhead! Go! A curse upon all I have done for you! A fine gold coffin you\nhad prepared for me! A fine funeral you were going to give me! Go, now!\nserve, labour, toil, sweat to get this fine reward! Unhappy is he who\ndoes a good deed in hope of a return. Well was it said by the\nphilosopher,  He who lies down an ass, an ass he finds himself.' But\nlet him who does most, expect least; smooth words and ill deeds deceive\nalike both fools and wise!\"\n\nSo saying, she drew her cloak about her and went her way. All that\nPippo, with the utmost humility, could do to soothe her was of no\navail. She would not return; but ran on and on without ever turning her\nhead about, saying--\n\n     \"Heaven keep me from the rich grown poor,\n     And from the beggar who of wealth gains store.\"\n\n\n\nXIV\n\nTHE SERPENT\n\nIt always happens that he who is over-curious in prying into the\naffairs of other people, strikes his own foot with the axe; and the\nKing of Long-Furrow is a proof of this, who, by poking his nose into\nsecrets, brought his daughter into trouble and ruined his unhappy\nson-in-law--who, in attempting to make a thrust with his head was left\nwith it broken.\n\nThere was once on a time a gardener's wife, who longed to have a son\nmore than a man in a fever for cold water, or the innkeeper for the\narrival of the mail-coach.\n\nIt chanced one day that the poor man went to the mountain to get a\nfaggot, and when he came home and opened it he found a pretty little\nserpent among the twigs. At the sight of this, Sapatella (for that was\nthe name of the gardener's wife) heaved a deep sigh, and said, \"Alas!\neven the serpents have their little serpents; but I brought ill-luck\nwith me into this world.\" At these words, the little serpent spoke, and\nsaid, \"Well, then, since you cannot have children, take me for a child,\nand you will make a good bargain, for I shall love you better than my\nmother.\" Sapatella, hearing a serpent speak thus, nearly fainted; but,\nplucking up courage, she said, \"If it were for nothing else than the\naffection which you offer, I am content to take you, and treat you as\nif you were really my own child.\" So saying, she assigned him a hole in\na corner of the house for a cradle, and gave him for food a share of\nwhat she had with the greatest goodwill in the world.\n\nThe serpent increased in size from day to day; and when he had grown\npretty big, he said to Cola Matteo, the gardener, whom he looked on as\nhis father, \"Daddy, I want to get married.\" \"With all my heart,\" said\nCola Matteo. \"We must look out for another serpent like yourself, and\ntry to make up a match between you.\" \"What serpent are you talking of?\"\nsaid the little serpent. \"I suppose, forsooth, we are all the same with\nvipers and adders! It is easy to see you are nothing but a country\nbumpkin, and make a nosegay of every plant. I want the King's daughter;\nso go this very instant and ask the King for her, and tell him it is a\nserpent who demands her.\" Cola Matteo, who was a plain, straightforward\nkind of man, and knew nothing about matters of this sort, went\ninnocently to the King and delivered his message, saying--\n\n     \"The messenger should not be beaten more\n     Than are the sands upon the shore!\"\n\n\"Know then that a serpent wants your daughter for his wife, and I am\ncome to try if we can make a match between a serpent and a dove!\" The\nKing, who saw at a glance that he was a blockhead, to get rid of him,\nsaid, \"Go and tell the serpent that I will give him my daughter if he\nturns all the fruit of this orchard into gold.\" And so saying, he burst\nout a-laughing, and dismissed him.\n\nWhen Cola Matteo went home and delivered the answer to the serpent, he\nsaid, \"Go to-morrow morning and gather up all the fruit-stones you can\nfind in the city, and sow them in the orchard, and you will see pearls\nstrung on rushes!\" Cola Mateo, who was no conjurer, neither knew how to\ncomply nor refuse; so next morning, as soon as the Sun with his golden\nbroom had swept away the dirt of the Night from the fields watered by\nthe dawn, he took a basket on his arm and went from street to street,\npicking up all the stones of peaches, plums, nectarines, apricots, and\ncherries that he could find. He then went to the orchard of the palace\nand sowed them, as the serpent had desired. In an instant the trees\nshot up, and stems and branches, leaves, flowers, and fruit were all of\nglittering gold--at the sight of which the King was in an ecstasy of\namazement, and cried aloud with joy.\n\nBut when Cola Matteo was sent by the serpent to the King, to demand the\nperformance of his promise, the King said, \"Fair and easy, I must first\nhave something else if he would have my daughter; and it is that he\nmake all the walls and the ground of the orchard to be of precious\nstones.\"\n\nWhen the gardener told this to the serpent, he made answer, \"Go\nto-morrow morning and gather up all the bits of broken crockery-ware\nyou can find, and throw them on the walks and on the walls of the\norchard; for we will not let this small difficulty stand in our way.\"\nAs soon, therefore, as the Night, having aided the robbers, is banished\nfrom the sky, and goes about collecting the faggots of twilight, Cola\nMatteo took a basket under his arm, and went about collecting bits of\ntiles, lids and bottoms of pipkins, pieces of plate and dishes, handles\nof jugs, spouts of pitchers. He picked up all the spoiled, broken,\ncracked lamps and all the fragments of pottery he could find in his\nway. And when he had done all that the serpent had told him, you could\nsee the whole orchard mantled with emeralds and chalcedonies, and\ncoated with rubies and carbuncles, so that the lustre dazzled your\neyes. The King was struck all of a heap by the sight, and knew not what\nhad befallen him. But when the serpent sent again to let him know that\nhe was expecting the performance of his promise, the King answered,\n\"Oh, all that has been done is nothing, if he does not turn this palace\ninto gold.\"\n\nWhen Cola Matteo told the serpent this new fancy of the King's, the\nserpent said, \"Go and get a bundle of herbs and rub the bottom of the\npalace walls with them. We shall see if we cannot satisfy this whim!\"\nAway went Cola that very moment, and made a great broom of cabbages,\nradishes, leeks, parsley, turnips, and carrots; and when he had rubbed\nthe lower part of the palace with it, instantly you might see it\nshining like a golden ball on a weather-vane. And when the gardener\ncame again to demand the hand of the Princess, the King, seeing all his\nretreat cut off, called his daughter, and said to her, \"My dear\nGrannonia, I have tried to get rid of a suitor who asked to marry you,\nby making such conditions as seemed to me impossible. But as I am\nbeaten, and obliged to consent, I pray you, as you are a dutiful\ndaughter, to enable me to keep my word, and to be content with what\nFate wills and I am obliged to do.\"\n\n\"Do as you please, father,\" said Grannonia; \"I shall not oppose a\nsingle jot of your will!\" The King, hearing this, bade Cola Matteo tell\nthe serpent to come.\n\nThe serpent then set out for the palace, mounted on a car all of gold\nand drawn by four golden elephants. But wherever he came the people\nfled away in terror, seeing such a large and frightful serpent making\nhis progress through the city; and when he arrived at the palace, the\ncourtiers all trembled like rushes and ran away; and even the very\nscullions did not dare to stay in the place. The King and Queen, also,\nshivering with fear, crept into a chamber. Only Grannonia stood her\nground; for though her father and her mother cried continually, \"Fly,\nfly, Grannonia, save yourself,\" she would not stir from the spot,\nsaying, \"Why should I fly from the husband you have given me?\" And when\nthe serpent came into the room, he took Grannonia by the waist, in his\ntail, and gave her such a shower of kisses that the King writhed like a\nworm, and went as pale as Death. Then the serpent carried her into\nanother room and fastened the door; and shaking off his skin on the\nfloor, he became a most beautiful youth, with a head all covered with\nringlets of gold, and with eyes that would enchant you!\n\nWhen the King saw the serpent go into the room with his daughter and\nshut the door after him, he said to his wife, \"Heaven have mercy on\nthat good soul, my daughter! for she is dead to a certainty, and that\naccursed serpent has doubtless swallowed her down like the yolk of an\negg.\" Then he put his eye to the key-hole to see what had become of\nher; but when he saw the exceeding beauty of the youth, and the skin of\nthe serpent that he had left lying on the ground, he gave the door a\nkick, then in they rushed, and, taking the skin, flung it into the fire\nand burned it.\n\nWhen the youth saw this, he cried, \"Ah, fools, what have you done!\" and\ninstantly he was turned into a dove and flew at the window, where, as\nhe struck his head through the panes, he cut himself sorely.\n\nGrannonia, who thus saw herself at the same moment happy and unhappy,\njoyful and miserable, rich and poor, tore her hair and bewailed her\nfate, reproaching her father and mother; but they excused themselves,\ndeclaring that they had not meant to do harm. But she went on weeping\nand wailing until Night came forth to drape the canopy of the sky for\nthe funeral of the Sun; and when they were all in bed, she took her\njewels, which were in a writing-desk, and went out by the back-door, to\nsearch everywhere for the treasure she had lost.\n\nShe went out of the city, guided by the light of the moon; and on her\nway she met a fox, who asked her if she wished for company. \"Of all\nthings, my friend,\" replied Grannonia. \"I should be delighted; for I am\nnot over well acquainted with the country.\" So they travelled along\ntogether till they came to a wood, where the trees, at play like\nchildren, were making baby-houses for the shadows to lie in. And as\nthey were now tired and wished to rest, they sheltered under the leaves\nwhere a fountain was playing tricks with the grass, throwing water on\nit by the dishful. There they stretched themselves on a mattress of\ntender soft grass, and paid the duty of repose which they owed to\nNature for the merchandise of life.\n\nThey did not awake till the Sun, with his usual fire, gave the signal\nto sailors and travellers to set out on their road; and, after they\nawoke, they still stayed for some time listening to the songs of the\nbirds, in which Grannonia took great delight. The fox, seeing this,\nsaid to her, \"You would feel twice as much pleasure if, like me, you\nunderstood what they are saying.\" At these words Grannonia--for women\nare by nature as curious as they are talkative--begged the fox to tell\nher what he had heard the birds saying. So, after having let her\nentreat him for a long time, to raise her curiosity about what he was\ngoing to relate, he told her that the birds were talking to each other\nabout what had lately befallen the King's son, who was as beautiful as\na jay. Because he had offended a wicked ogress, she had laid him under\na spell to pass seven years in the form of a serpent; and when he had\nnearly ended the seven years, he fell in love with the daughter of a\nKing, and being one day in a room with the maiden, he had cast his skin\non the ground, when her father and mother rushed in and burned it.\nThen, when the Prince was flying away in the shape of a dove, he broke\na pane in the window to escape, and hurt his head so severely that he\nwas given over by the doctors.\n\nGrannonia, who thus heard her own onions spoken of, asked if there was\nany cure for this injury. The fox replied that there was none other\nthan by anointing his wounds with the blood of those very birds that\nhad been telling the story. When Grannonia heard this, she fell down on\nher knees to the fox, entreating him to catch those birds for her, that\nshe might get their blood; adding that, like honest comrades, they\nwould share the gain. \"Fair and softly,\" said the fox; \"let us wait\ntill night, and when the birds are gone to bed, trust me to climb the\ntree and capture them, one after the other.\"\n\nSo they waited till Day was gone, and Earth had spread out her great\nblack board to catch the wax that might drop from the tapers of Night.\nThen the fox, as soon as he saw all the birds fast asleep on the\nbranches, stole up quite softly, and one after another, throttled all\nthe linnets, larks, tomtits, blackbirds, woodpeckers, thrushes, jays,\nfly-catchers, little owls, goldfinches, bullfinches, chaffinches, and\nredbreasts that were on the trees. And when he had killed them all they\nput the blood in a little bottle, which the fox carried with him, to\nrefresh himself on the road.\n\nGrannonia was so overjoyed that she hardly touched the ground; but the\nfox said to her, \"What fine joy in a dream is this, my daughter! You\nhave done nothing, unless you mix my blood also with that of the\nbirds\"; and so saying he set off to run away. Grannonia, who saw all\nher hopes likely to be destroyed, had recourse to woman's\nart--flattery; and she said to him, \"Gossip fox, there would be some\nreason for your saving your hide if I were not under so many\nobligations to you, and if there were no other foxes in the world. But\nyou know how much I owe you, and that there is no scarcity of the likes\nof you on these plains. Rely on my good faith. Don't act like the cow\nthat kicks over the pail which she has just filled with milk. You have\ndone the chief part, and now you fail at the last. Do stop! Believe me,\nand come with me to the city of this King, where you may sell me for a\nslave if you will!\"\n\nThe fox never dreamed that he could be out-forced by a woman; so he\nagreed to travel on with her. But they had hardly gone fifty paces,\nwhen she lifted up the stick she carried and gave him such a neat rap\nthat he forthwith stretched his legs. Then she put his blood into the\nlittle bottle; and setting off again she stayed not till she came to\nBig Valley, where she went straightway to the royal palace, and sent\nword that she was come to cure the Prince.\n\nThen the King ordered her to be brought before him, and he was\nastonished at seeing a girl undertake a thing which the best doctors in\nhis kingdom had failed to do. However, a trial could do no harm; and so\nhe said he wished greatly to see the experiment made. But Grannonia\nanswered, \"If I succeed, you must promise to give him to me for a\nhusband.\" The King, who looked on his son to be even as already dead,\nanswered her, \"If you give him to me safe and sound, I will give him to\nyou sound and safe; for it is no great matter to give a husband to her\nthat gives me a son.\"\n\nSo they went to the chamber of the Prince, and hardly had she anointed\nhim with the blood, when he found himself just as if nothing had ever\nailed him. Grannonia, when she saw the Prince stout and hearty, bade\nthe King keep his word; whereupon he, turning to his son, said, \"My\nson, a moment ago you were all but dead, and now I see you alive, and\ncan hardly believe it. Therefore, as I have promised this maiden that\nif she cured you she should have you for a husband, now enable me to\nperform my promise, by all the love you bear me, since gratitude\nobliges me to pay this debt.\"\n\nWhen the Prince heard these words, he said, \"Sir, I would that I was\nfree to prove to you the love I bear you. But as I have already pledged\nmy faith to another woman, you would not consent that I should break my\nword, nor would this maiden wish that I should do such a wrong to her\nwhom I love; nor can I, indeed, alter my mind!\"\n\nGrannonia, hearing this, felt a secret pleasure not to be described at\nfinding herself still alive in the memory of the Prince. Her whole face\nbecame crimson as she said, \"If I could induce this maiden to resign\nher claims, would you then consent to my wish?\" \"Never,\" replied the\nPrince, \"will I banish from this breast the fair image of her whom I\nlove. I shall ever remain of the same mind and will; and I would sooner\nsee myself in danger of losing my place at the table of life than play\nso mean a trick!\"\n\nGrannonia could no longer disguise herself, and discovered to the\nPrince who she was; for, the chamber having been darkened on account of\nthe wound in his head, he had not known her. But the Prince, now that\nhe recognised her, embraced her with a joy that would amaze you,\ntelling his father what he had done and suffered for her. Then they\nsent to invite her parents, the King and Queen of Long Field; and they\ncelebrated the wedding with wonderful festivity, making great sport of\nthe great ninny of a fox, and concluding at the last of the last that--\n\n     \"Pain doth indeed a seasoning prove\n     Unto the joys of constant love.\"\n\n\n\nXV\n\nTHE SHE-BEAR\n\nTruly the wise man said well that a command of gall cannot be obeyed\nlike one of sugar. A man must require just and reasonable things if he\nwould see the scales of obedience properly trimmed.\n\nFrom orders which are improper springs resistance which is not easily\novercome, as happened to the King of Rough-Rock, who, by asking what he\nought not of his daughter, caused her to run away from him, at the risk\nof losing both honour and life.\n\nThere lived, it is said, once upon a time a King of Rough-Rock, who had\na wife the very mother of beauty, but in the full career of her years\nshe fell from the horse of health and broke her life. Before the candle\nof life went out at the auction of her years she called her husband and\nsaid to him, \"I know you have always loved me tenderly; show me,\ntherefore, at the close of my days the completion of your love by\npromising me never to marry again, unless you find a woman as beautiful\nas I have been, otherwise I leave you my curse, and shall bear you\nhatred even in the other world.\"\n\nThe King, who loved his wife beyond measure, hearing this her last\nwish, burst into tears, and for some time could not answer a single\nword. At last, when he had done weeping, he said to her, \"Sooner than\ntake another wife may the gout lay hold of me; may I have my head cut\noff like a mackerel! My dearest love, drive such a thought from your\nmind; do not believe in dreams, or that I could love any other woman;\nyou were the first new coat of my love, and you shall carry away with\nyou the last rags of my affection.\"\n\nAs he said these words the poor young Queen, who was at the point of\ndeath, turned up her eyes and stretched out her feet. When the King saw\nher life thus running out he unstopped the channels of his eyes, and\nmade such a howling and beating and outcry that all the Court came\nrunning up, calling on the name of the dear soul, and upbraiding\nFortune for taking her from him, and plucking out his beard, he cursed\nthe stars that had sent him such a misfortune. But bearing in mind the\nmaxim, \"Pain in one's elbow and pain for one's wife are alike hard to\nbear, but are soon over,\" ere the Night had gone forth into the\nplace-of-arms in the sky to muster the bats he began to count upon his\nfingers and to reflect thus to himself, \"Here is my wife dead, and I am\nleft a wretched widower, with no hope of seeing any one but this poor\ndaughter whom she has left me. I must therefore try to discover some\nmeans or other of having a son and heir. But where shall I look? Where\nshall I find a woman equal in beauty to my wife? Every one appears a\nwitch in comparison with her; where, then, shall I find another with a\nbit of stick, or seek another with the bell, if Nature made Nardella\n(may she be in glory), and then broke the mould? Alas, in what a\nlabyrinth has she put me, in what a perplexity has the promise I made\nher left me! But what do I say? I am running away before I have seen\nthe wolf; let me open my eyes and ears and look about; may there not be\nsome other as beautiful? Is it possible that the world should be lost\nto me? Is there such a dearth of women, or is the race extinct?\"\n\nSo saying he forthwith issued a proclamation and command that all the\nhandsome women in the world should come to the touch-stone of beauty,\nfor he would take the most beautiful to wife and endow her with a\nkingdom. Now, when this news was spread abroad, there was not a woman\nin the universe who did not come to try her luck--not a witch, however\nugly, who stayed behind; for when it is a question of beauty, no\nscullion-wench will acknowledge herself surpassed; every one piques\nherself on being the handsomest; and if the looking-glass tells her the\ntruth she blames the glass for being untrue, and the quicksilver for\nbeing put on badly.\n\nWhen the town was thus filled with women the King had them all drawn up\nin a line, and he walked up and down from top to bottom, and as he\nexamined and measured each from head to foot one appeared to him\nwry-browed, another long-nosed, another broad-mouthed, another\nthick-lipped, another tall as a may-pole, another short and dumpy,\nanother too stout, another too slender; the Spaniard did not please him\non account of her dark colour, the Neopolitan was not to his fancy on\naccount of her gait, the German appeared cold and icy, the Frenchwoman\nfrivolous and giddy, the Venetian with her light hair looked like a\ndistaff of flax. At the end of the end, one for this cause and another\nfor that, he sent them all away, with one hand before and the other\nbehind; and, seeing that so many fair faces were all show and no wool,\nhe turned his thoughts to his own daughter, saying, \"Why do I go\nseeking the impossible when my daughter Preziosa is formed in the same\nmould of beauty as her mother? I have this fair face here in my house,\nand yet go looking for it at the fag-end of the world. She shall marry\nwhom I will, and so I shall have an heir.\"\n\nWhen Preziosa heard this she retired to her chamber, and bewailing her\nill-fortune as if she would not leave a hair upon her head; and, whilst\nshe was lamenting thus, an old woman came to her, who was her\nconfidant. As soon as she saw Preziosa, who seemed to belong more to\nthe other world than to this, and heard the cause of her grief, the old\nwoman said to her, \"Cheer up, my daughter, do not despair; there is a\nremedy for every evil save death. Now listen; if your father speaks to\nyou thus once again put this bit of wood into your mouth, and instantly\nyou will be changed into a she-bear; then off with you! for in his\nfright he will let you depart, and go straight to the wood, where\nHeaven has kept good-fortune in store for you since the day you were\nborn, and whenever you wish to appear a woman, as you are and will\nremain, only take the piece of wood out of your mouth and you will\nreturn to your true form.\" Then Preziosa embraced the old woman, and,\ngiving her a good apronful of meal, and ham and bacon, sent her away.\n\nAs soon as the Sun began to change his quarters, the King ordered the\nmusicians to come, and, inviting all his lords and vassals, he held a\ngreat feast. And after dancing for five or six hours, they all sat down\nto table, and ate and drank beyond measure. Then the King asked his\ncourtiers to whom he should marry Preziosa, as she was the picture of\nhis dead wife. But the instant Preziosa heard this, she slipped the bit\nof wood into her mouth, and took the figure of a terrible she-bear, at\nthe sight of which all present were frightened out of their wits, and\nran off as fast as they could scamper.\n\nMeanwhile Preziosa went out, and took her way to a wood, where the\nShades were holding a consultation how they might do some mischief to\nthe Sun at the close of day. And there she stayed, in the pleasant\ncompanionship of the other animals, until the son of the King of\nRunning-Water came to hunt in that part of the country, who, at the\nsight of the bear, had like to have died on the spot. But when he saw\nthe beast come gently up to him, wagging her tail like a little dog and\nrubbing her sides against him, he took courage, and patted her, and\nsaid, \"Good bear, good bear! there, there! poor beast, poor beast!\"\nThen he led her home and ordered that she should be taken great care\nof; and he had her put into a garden close to the royal palace, that he\nmight see her from the window whenever he wished.\n\nOne day, when all the people of the house were gone out, and the Prince\nwas left alone, he went to the window to look out at the bear; and\nthere he beheld Preziosa, who had taken the piece of wood out of her\nmouth, combing her golden tresses.  At the sight of this beauty, which\nwas beyond the beyonds, he had like to have lost his senses with\namazement, and tumbling down the stairs he ran out into the garden. But\nPreziosa, who was on the watch and observed him, popped the piece of\nwood into her mouth, and was instantly changed into a bear again.\n\nWhen the Prince came down and looked about in vain for Preziosa, whom\nhe had seen from the window above, he was so amazed at the trick that a\ndeep melancholy came over him, and in four days he fell sick, crying\ncontinually, \"My bear, my bear!\" His mother, hearing him wailing thus,\nimagined that the bear had done him some hurt, and gave orders that she\nshould be killed. But the servants, enamoured of the tameness of the\nbear, who made herself beloved by the very stones in the road, took\npity on her, and, instead of killing her, they led her to the wood, and\ntold the queen that they had put an end to her.\n\nWhen this came to the ears of the Prince, he acted in a way to pass\nbelief. Ill or well he jumped out of bed, and was going at once to make\nmincemeat of the servants. But when they told him the truth of the\naffair, he jumped on horseback, half-dead as he was, and went rambling\nabout and seeking everywhere, until at length he found the bear. Then\nhe took her home again, and putting her into a chamber, said to her, \"O\nlovely morsel for a King, who art shut up in this skin! O candle of\nlove, who art enclosed within this hairy lanthorn! Wherefore all this\ntrifling? Do you wish to see me pine and pant, and die by inches? I am\nwasting away; without hope, and tormented by thy beauty. And you see\nclearly the proof, for I am shrunk two-thirds in size, like wine boiled\ndown, and am nothing but skin and bone, for the fever is\ndouble-stitched to my veins. So lift up the curtain of this hairy hide,\nand let me gaze upon the spectacle of thy beauty! Raise, O raise the\nleaves off this basket, and let me get a sight of the fine fruit\nbeneath! Lift up that curtain, and let my eyes pass in to behold the\npomp of wonders! Who has shut up so smooth a creature in a prison woven\nof hair? Who has locked up so rich a treasure in a leathern chest? Let\nme behold this display of graces, and take in payment all my love; for\nnothing else can cure the troubles I endure.\"\n\nBut when he had said, again and again, this and a great deal more, and\nstill saw that all his words were thrown away, he took to his bed, and\nhad such a desperate fit that the doctors prognosticated badly of his\ncase. Then his mother, who had no other joy in the world, sat down by\nhis bedside, and said to him, \"My son, whence comes all this grief?\nWhat melancholy humour has seized you? You are young, you are loved,\nyou are great, you are rich--what then is it you want, my son? Speak; a\nbashful beggar carries an empty bag. If you want a wife, only choose,\nand I will bring the match about; do you take, and I'll pay. Do you not\nsee that your illness is an illness to me? Your pulse beats with fever\nin your veins, and my heart beats with illness in my brain, for I have\nno other support of my old age than you. So be cheerful now, and cheer\nup my heart, and do not see the whole kingdom thrown into mourning,\nthis house into lamentation, and your mother forlorn and heart-broken.\"\n\nWhen the Prince heard these words, he said, \"Nothing can console me but\nthe sight of the bear. Therefore, if you wish to see me well again, let\nher be brought into this chamber; I will have no one else to attend me,\nand make my bed, and cook for me, but she herself; and you may be sure\nthat this pleasure will make me well in a trice.\"\n\nThereupon his mother, although she thought it ridiculous enough for the\nbear to act as cook and chambermaid, and feared that her son was not in\nhis right mind, yet, in order to gratify him, had the bear fetched. And\nwhen the bear came up to the Prince's bed, she raised her paw and felt\nthe patient's pulse, which made the Queen laugh outright, for she\nthought every moment that the bear would scratch his nose. Then the\nPrince said, \"My dear bear, will you not cook for me, and give me my\nfood, and wait upon me?\" and the bear nodded her head, to show that she\naccepted the office. Then his mother had some fowls brought, and a fire\nlighted on the hearth in the same chamber, and some water set to boil;\nwhereupon the bear, laying hold on a fowl, scalded and plucked it\nhandily, and drew it, and then stuck one portion of it on the spit, and\nwith the other part she made such a delicious hash that the Prince, who\ncould not relish even sugar, licked his fingers at the taste. And when\nhe had done eating, the bear handed him drink with such grace that the\nQueen was ready to kiss her on the forehead. Thereupon the Prince\narose, and the bear quickly set about making the bed; and running into\nthe garden, she gathered a clothful of roses and citron-flowers and\nstrewed them over it, so that the queen said the bear was worth her\nweight in gold, and that her son had good reason to be fond of her.\n\nBut when the Prince saw these pretty offices they only added fuel to\nthe fire; and if before he wasted by ounces, he now melted away by\npounds, and he said to the Queen, \"My lady mother, if I do not give\nthis bear a kiss, the breath will leave my body.\" Whereupon the Queen,\nseeing him fainting away, said, \"Kiss him, kiss him, my beautiful\nbeast! Let me not see my poor son die of longing!\" Then the bear went\nup to the Prince, and taking him by the cheeks, kissed him again and\nagain. Meanwhile (I know not how it was) the piece of wood slipped out\nof Preziosa's mouth, and she remained in the arms of the Prince, the\nmost beautiful creature in the world; and pressing her to his heart, he\nsaid, \"I have caught you, my little rogue! You shall not escape from me\nagain without a good reason.\" At these words Preziosa, adding the\ncolour of modesty to the picture of her natural beauty, said to him, \"I\nam indeed in your hands--only guard me safely, and marry me when you\nwill.\"\n\nThen the Queen inquired who the beautiful maiden was, and what had\nbrought her to this savage life; and Preziosa related the whole story\nof her misfortunes, at which the Queen, praising her as a good and\nvirtuous girl, told her son that she was content that Preziosa should\nbe his wife. Then the Prince, who desired nothing else in life,\nforthwith pledged her his faith; and the mother giving them her\nblessing, this happy marriage was celebrated with great feasting and\nilluminations, and Preziosa experienced the truth of the saying that--\n\n     \"One who acts well may always expect good.\"\n\n\n\nXVI\n\nTHE DOVE\n\nHe who is born a prince should not act like a beggar boy. The man who\nis high in rank ought not to set a bad example to those below him; for\nthe little donkey learns from the big one to eat straw. It is no\nwonder, therefore, that Heaven sends him troubles by bushels--as\nhappened to a prince who was brought into great difficulties for\nill-treating and tormenting a poor woman, so that he was near losing\nhis life miserably.\n\nAbout eight miles from Naples there was once a deep wood of fig-trees\nand poplars. In this wood stood a half-ruined cottage, wherein dwelt an\nold woman, who was as light of teeth as she was burdened with years.\nShe had a hundred wrinkles in her face, and a great many more in her\npurse, and all her silver covered her head, so that she went from one\nthatched cottage to another, begging alms to keep life in her. But as\nfolks nowadays much rather give a purseful of crowns to a crafty spy\nthan a farthing to a poor needy man, she had to toil a whole day to get\na dish of kidney-beans, and that at a time when they were very\nplentiful. Now one day the poor old woman, after having washed the\nbeans, put them in a pot, placed it outside the window, and went on her\nway to the wood to gather sticks for the fire. But while she was away,\nNardo Aniello, the King's son, passed by the cottage on his way to the\nchase; and, seeing the pot at the window, he took a great fancy to have\na fling at it; and he made a bet with his attendants to see who should\nfling the straightest and hit in the middle with a stone. Then they\nbegan to throw at the innocent pot; and in three or four casts the\nprince hit it to a hair and won the bet.\n\nThe old woman returned just after they had gone away, and seeing the\nsad disaster, she began to act as if she were beside herself, crying,\n\"Ay, let him stretch out his arm and go about boasting how he has\nbroken this pot! The villainous rascal who has sown my beans out of\nseason. If he had no compassion for my misery, he should have had some\nregard for his own interest; for I pray Heaven, on my bare knees and\nfrom the bottom of my soul, that he may fall in love with the daughter\nof some ogress, who may plague and torment him in every way. May his\nmother-in-law lay on him such a curse that he may see himself living\nand yet bewail himself as dead; and being spellbound by the beauty of\nthe daughter, and the arts of the mother, may he never be able to\nescape, but be obliged to remain. May she order him about with a cudgel\nin her hand, and give him bread with a little fork, that he may have\ngood cause to lament over my beans which he has spilt on the ground.\"\nThe old woman's curses took wing and flew up to Heaven in a trice; so\nthat, notwithstanding what a proverb says, \"for a woman's curse you are\nnever the worse, and the coat of a horse that has been cursed always\nshines,\" she rated the Prince so soundly that he well-nigh jumped out\nof his skin.\n\nScarcely had two hours passed when the Prince, losing himself in the\nwood and parted from his attendants, met a beautiful maiden, who was\ngoing along picking up snails and saying with a laugh--\n\n     \"Snail, snail, put out your horn,\n     Your mother is laughing you to scorn,\n     For she has a little son just born.\"\n\nWhen the Prince saw this beautiful apparition he knew not what had\nbefallen him; and, as the beams from the eyes of that crystal face fell\nupon the tinder of his heart, he was all in a flame, so that he became\na lime-kiln wherein the stones of designs were burnt to build the\nhouses of hopes.\n\nNow Filadoro (for so the maiden was named) was no wiser than other\npeople; and the Prince, being a smart young fellow with handsome\nmoustachios, pierced her heart through and through, so that they stood\nlooking at one another for compassion with their eyes, which proclaimed\naloud the secret of their souls. After they had both remained thus for\na long time, unable to utter a single word, the Prince at last, finding\nhis voice, addressed Filadoro thus, \"From what meadow has this flower\nof beauty sprung? From what mine has this treasure of beauteous things\ncome to light? O happy woods, O fortunate groves, which this nobility\ninhabits, which this illumination of the festivals of love irradiates.\"\n\n\"Kiss this hand, my lord,\" answered Filadoro, \"not so much modesty; for\nall the praise that you have bestowed on me belongs to your virtues,\nnot to my merits. Such as I am, handsome or ugly, fat or thin, a witch\nor a fairy, I am wholly at your command; for your manly form has\ncaptivated my heart, your princely mien has pierced me through from\nside to side, and from this moment I give myself up to you for ever as\na chained slave.\"\n\nAt these words the Prince seized at once her hand, kissing the ivory\nhook that had caught his heart. At this ceremony of the prince,\nFiladoro's face grew as red as scarlet. But the more Nardo Aniello\nwished to continue speaking, the more his tongue seemed tied; for in\nthis wretched life there is no wine of enjoyment without dregs of\nvexation. And just at this moment Filadoro's mother suddenly appeared,\nwho was such an ugly ogress that Nature seemed to have formed her as a\nmodel of horrors. Her hair was like a besom of holly; her forehead like\na rough stone; her eyes were comets that predicted all sorts of evils;\nher mouth had tusks like a boar's--in short, from head to foot she was\nugly beyond imagination. Now she seized Nardo Aniello by the nape of\nhis neck, saying, \"Hollo! what now, you thief! you rogue!\"\n\n\"Yourself the rogue,\" replied the Prince, \"back with you, old hag!\" And\nhe was just going to draw his sword, when all at once he stood fixed\nlike a sheep that has seen the wolf and can neither stir nor utter a\nsound, so that the ogress led him like an ass by the halter to her\nhouse. And when they came there she said to him, \"Mind, now, and work\nlike a dog, unless you wish to die like a dog. For your first task\nto-day you must have this acre of land dug and sown level as this room;\nand recollect that if I return in the evening and do not find the work\nfinished, I shall eat you up.\" Then, bidding her daughter take care of\nthe house, she went to a meeting of the other ogresses in the wood.\n\nNardo Aniello, seeing himself in this dilemma, began to bathe his\nbreast with tears, cursing his fate which brought him to this pass. But\nFiladoro comforted him, bidding him be of good heart, for she would\never risk her life to assist him. She said that she ought not to lament\nhis fate which had led him to the house where she lived, who loved him\nso dearly, and that he showed little return for her love by being so\ndespairing at what had happened. The Prince replied: \"I am not grieved\nat having exchanged the royal palace for this hovel; splendid banquets\nfor a crust of bread; a sceptre for a spade; not at seeing myself, who\nhave terrified armies, now frightened by this hideous scarecrow; for I\nshould deem all my disasters good fortune to be with you and to gaze\nupon you with these eyes. But what pains me to the heart is that I have\nto dig till my hands are covered with hard skin--I whose fingers are so\ndelicate and soft as Barbary wool; and, what is still worse, I have to\ndo more than two oxen could get through in a day. If I do not finish\nthe task this evening your mother will eat me up; yet I should not\ngrieve so much to quit this wretched body as to be parted from so\nbeautiful a creature.\"\n\nSo saying he heaved sighs by bushels, and shed many tears. But\nFiladoro, drying his eyes, said to him, \"Fear not that my mother will\ntouch a hair of your head. Trust to me and do not be afraid; for you\nmust know that I possess magical powers, and am able to make cream set\non water and to darken the sun. Be of good heart, for by the evening\nthe piece of land will be dug and sown without any one stirring a hand.\"\n\nWhen Nardo Aniello heard this, he answered, \"If you have magic power,\nas you say, O beauty of the world, why do we not fly from this country?\nFor you shall live like a queen in my father's house.\" And Filadoro\nreplied, \"A certain conjunction of the stars prevents this, but the\ntrouble will soon pass and we shall be happy.\"\n\nWith these and a thousand other pleasant discourses the day passed, and\nwhen the ogress came back she called to her daughter from the road and\nsaid, \"Filadoro, let down your hair,\" for as the house had no staircase\nshe always ascended by her daughter's tresses. As soon as Filadoro\nheard her mother's voice she unbound her hair and let fall her tresses,\nmaking a golden ladder to an iron heart. Whereupon the old woman\nmounted up quickly, and ran into the garden; but when she found it all\ndug and sown, she was beside herself with amazement; for it seemed to\nher impossible that a delicate lad should have accomplished such hard\nlabour.\n\nBut the next morning, hardly had the Sun gone out to warm himself on\naccount of the cold he had caught in the river of India, than the\nogress went down again, bidding Nardo Aniello take care that in the\nevening she should find ready split six stacks of wood which were in\nthe cellar, with every log cleft into four pieces, or otherwise she\nwould cut him up like bacon and make a fry of him for supper.\n\nOn hearing this decree the poor Prince had liked to have died of\nterror, and Filadoro, seeing him half dead and pale as ashes, said,\n\"Why! What a coward you are to be frightened at such a trifle.\" \"Do you\nthink it a trifle,\" replied Nardo Aniello, \"to split six stacks of\nwood, with every log cleft into four pieces, between this time and the\nevening? Alas, I shall sooner be cleft in halves myself to fill the\nmouth of this horrid old woman.\" \"Fear not,\" answered Filadoro, \"for\nwithout giving yourself any trouble the wood shall all be split in good\ntime. But meanwhile cheer up, if you love me, and do not split my heart\nwith such lamentations.\"\n\nNow when the Sun had shut up the shop of his rays, in order not to sell\nlight to the Shades, the old woman returned; and, bidding Filadoro let\ndown the usual ladder, she ascended, and finding the wood already split\nshe began to suspect it was her own daughter who had given her this\ncheck. At the third day, in order to make a third trial, she told the\nPrince to clean out for her a cistern which held a thousand casks of\nwater, for she wished to fill it anew, adding that if the task were not\nfinished by the evening she would make mincemeat of him. When the old\nwoman went away Nardo Aniello began again to weep and wail; and\nFiladoro, seeing that the labours increased, and that the old woman had\nsomething of the brute in her to burden the poor fellow with such tasks\nand troubles, said to him, \"Be quiet, and as soon as the moment has\npassed that interrupts my art, before the Sun says  I am off,' we will\nsay good-bye to this house; sure enough, this evening my mother shall\nfind the land cleared, and I will go off with you, alive or dead.\" The\nPrince, on hearing this news, embraced Filadoro and said, \"Thou art the\npole-star of this storm-tossed bark, my soul! Thou art the prop of my\nhopes.\"\n\nNow, when the evening drew nigh, Filadoro having dug a hole in the\ngarden into a large underground passage, they went out and took the way\nto Naples. But when they arrived at the grotto of Pozzuolo, Nardo\nAniello said to Filadoro, \"It will never do for me to take you to the\npalace on foot and dressed in this manner. Therefore wait at this inn\nand I will soon return with horses, carriages, servants, and clothes.\"\nSo Filadoro stayed behind and the Prince went on his way to the city.\nMeantime the ogress returned home, and as Filadoro did not answer to\nher usual summons, she grew suspicious, ran into the wood, and cutting\na great, long pole, placed it against the window and climbed up like a\ncat. Then she went into the house and hunted everywhere inside and out,\nhigh and low, but found no one. At last she perceived the hole, and\nseeing that it led into the open air, in her rage she did not leave a\nhair upon her head, cursing her daughter and the Prince, and praying\nthat at the first kiss Filadoro's lover should receive he might forget\nher.\n\nBut let us leave the old woman to say her wicked curses and return to\nthe Prince, who on arriving at the palace, where he was thought to be\ndead, put the whole house in an uproar, every one running to meet him\nand crying, \"Welcome! welcome! Here he is, safe and sound, how happy we\nare to see him back in this country,\" with a thousand other words of\naffection. But as he was going up the stairs his mother met him\nhalf-way and embraced and kissed him, saying, \"My son, my jewel, the\napple of my eye, where have you been and why have you stayed away so\nlong to make us all die with anxiety?\" The Prince knew not what to\nanswer, for he did not wish to tell her of his misfortunes; but no\nsooner had his mother kissed him than, owing to the curse, all that had\npassed went from his memory. Then the Queen told her son that to put an\nend to his going hunting and wasting his time in the woods, she wished\nhim to get married. \"Well and good,\" replied the Prince, \"I am ready\nand prepared to do what you desire.\" So it was settled that within four\ndays they should lead home to him the bride who had just arrived from\nthe country of Flanders; and thereupon a great feasting and banquets\nwere held.\n\nBut meanwhile Filadoro, seeing that her husband stayed away so long and\nhearing (I know not how) of the feast, waited in the evening till the\nservant-lad of the inn had gone to bed, and taking his clothes from the\nhead of the bed, she left her own in their place, and disguising\nherself like a man, went to the court of the king, where the cooks,\nbeing in want of help, took her as kitchen boy. When the tables were\nset out and the guests all took their seats, and the dishes were set\ndown and the carver was cutting up a large English pie which Filadoro\nhad made with her own hands, lo, out flew such a beautiful dove that\nthe guests in their astonishment, forgetting to eat, fell to admiring\nthe pretty bird, which said to the Prince in a piteous voice, \"Have you\nso soon forgotten the love of Filadoro, and have all the services you\nreceived from her, ungrateful man, gone from your memory? Is it thus\nyou repay the benefits she has done you: she who took you out of the\nclaws of the ogress and gave you life and herself too? Woe to the woman\nwho trusts too much to the words of man, who ever requites kindness\nwith ingratitude, and pays debts with forgetfulness. But go, forget\nyour promises, false man. And may the curses follow you which the\nunhappy maiden sends you from the bottom of her heart. But if the gods\nhave not locked up their ears they will witness the wrong you have done\nher, and when you least expect it the lightning and thunder, fever and\nillness, will come to you. Enough, eat and drink, take your sports, for\nunhappy Filadoro, deceived and forsaken, will leave you the field open\nto make merry with your new wife.\" So saying, the dove flew away\nquickly and vanished like the wind. The Prince, hearing the murmuring\nof the dove, stood for a while stupefied. At length, he inquired whence\nthe pie came, and when the carver told him that a scullion boy who had\nbeen taken to assist in the kitchen had made it, he ordered him to be\nbrought into the room. Then Filadoro, throwing herself at the feet of\nNardo Aniello, shedding a torrent of tears, said merely, \"What have I\ndone to you?\" Whereupon the Prince at once recalled to mind the\nengagement he had made with her; and, instantly raising her up, seated\nher by his side, and when he related to his mother the great obligation\nhe was under to this beautiful maiden and all that she had done for\nhim, and how it was necessary that the promise he had given should be\nfulfilled, his mother, who had no other joy in life than her son, said\nto him, \"Do as you please, so that you offend not this lady whom I have\ngiven you to wife.\" \"Be not troubled,\" said the lady, \"for, to tell the\ntruth, I am very loth to remain in this country; with your kind\npermission I wish to return to my dear Flanders.\" Thereupon the Prince\nwith great joy offered her a vessel and attendants; and, ordering\nFiladoro to be dressed like a Princess, when the tables were removed,\nthe musicians came and they began the ball which lasted until evening.\n\nSo the feast being now ended, they all betook themselves to rest, and\nthe Prince and Filadoro lived happily ever after, proving the truth of\nthe proverb that--\n\n     \"He who stumbles and does not fall,\n     Is helped on his way like a rolling ball.\"\n\n\n\nXVII\n\nCANNETELLA\n\nIt is an evil thing to seek for better than wheaten bread, for a man\ncomes at last to desire what others throw away, and must content\nhimself with honesty. He who loses all and walks on the tops of the\ntrees has as much madness in his head as danger under his feet, as was\nthe case with the daughter of a King whose story I have now to tell you.\n\nThere was once on a time a King of High-Hill who longed for children\nmore than the porters do for a funeral that they may gather wax. And at\nlast his wife presented him with a little girl, to whom he gave the\nname Cannetella.\n\nThe child grew by hands, and when she was as tall as a pole the King\nsaid to her, \"My daughter, you are now grown as big as an oak, and it\nis full time to provide you with a husband worthy of that pretty face.\nSince, therefore, I love you as my own life and desire to please you,\ntell me, I pray, what sort of a husband you would like, what kind of a\nman would suit your fancy? Will you have him a scholar or a dunce? a\nboy, or man in years? brown or fair or ruddy? tall as a maypole or\nshort as a peg? small in the waist or round as an ox? Do you choose,\nand I am satisfied.\"\n\nCannetella thanked her father for these generous offers, but told him\nthat she would on no account encumber herself with a husband. However,\nbeing urged by the King again and again, she said, \"Not to show myself\nungrateful for so much love I am willing to comply with your wish,\nprovided I have such a husband that he has no like in the world.\"\n\nHer father, delighted beyond measure at hearing this, took his station\nat the window from morning till evening, looking out and surveying,\nmeasuring and examining every one that passed along the street. And one\nday, seeing a good-looking man go by, the King said to his daughter,\n\"Run, Cannetella! see if yon man comes up to the measure of your\nwishes.\" Then she desired him to be brought up, and they made a most\nsplendid banquet for him, at which there was everything he could\ndesire. And as they were feasting an almond fell out of the youth's\nmouth, whereupon, stooping down, he picked it up dexterously from the\nground and put it under the cloth, and when they had done eating he\nwent away. Then the King said to Cannetella, \"Well, my life, how does\nthis youth please you?\" \"Take the fellow away,\" said she; \"a man so\ntall and so big as he should never have let an almond drop out of his\nmouth.\"\n\nWhen the King heard this he returned to his place at the window, and\npresently, seeing another well-shaped youth pass by, he called his\ndaughter to hear whether this one pleased her. Then Cannetella desired\nhim to be shown up; so he was called, and another entertainment made.\nAnd when they had done eating, and the man had gone away, the King\nasked his daughter whether he had pleased her, whereupon she replied,\n\"What in the world should I do with such a miserable fellow who wants\nat least a couple of servants with him to take off his cloak?\"\n\n\"If that be the case,\" said the King, \"it is plain that these are\nmerely excuses, and that you are only looking for pretexts to refuse me\nthis pleasure. So resolve quickly, for I am determined to have you\nmarried.\" To these angry words Cannetella replied, \"To tell you the\ntruth plainly, dear father, I really feel that you are digging in the\nsea and making a wrong reckoning on your fingers. I will never subject\nmyself to any man who has not a golden head and teeth.\" The poor King,\nseeing his daughter's head thus turned, issued a proclamation, bidding\nany one in his kingdom who should answer to Cannetella's wishes to\nappear, and he would give him his daughter and the kingdom.\n\nNow this King had a mortal enemy named Fioravante, whom he could not\nbear to see so much as painted on a wall. He, when he heard of this\nproclamation, being a cunning magician, called a parcel of that evil\nbrood to him, and commanded them forthwith to make his head and teeth\nof gold. So they did as he desired, and when he saw himself with a head\nand teeth of pure gold he walked past under the window of the King,\nwho, when he saw the very man he was looking for, called his daughter.\nAs soon as Cannetella set eyes upon him she cried out, \"Ay, that is he!\nhe could not be better if I had kneaded him with my own hands.\"\n\nWhen Fioravante was getting up to go away the King said to him, \"Wait a\nlittle, brother; why in such a hurry! One would think you had\nquicksilver in your body! Fair and softly, I will give you my daughter\nand baggage and servants to accompany you, for I wish her to be your\nwife.\"\n\n\"I thank you,\" said Fioravante, \"but there is no necessity; a single\nhorse is enough if the beast will carry double, for at home I have\nservants and goods as many as the sands on the sea-shore.\" So, after\narguing awhile, Fioravante at last prevailed, and, placing Cannetella\nbehind him on a horse, he set out.\n\nIn the evening, when the red horses are taken away from the corn-mill\nof the sky and white oxen are yoked in their place, they came to a\nstable where some horses were feeding. Fioravante led Cannetella into\nit and said, \"Listen! I have to make a journey to my own house, and it\nwill take me seven years to get there. Mind, therefore, and wait for me\nin this stable and do not stir out, nor let yourself be seen by any\nliving person, or else I will make you remember it as long as you\nlive.\" Cannetella replied, \"You are my lord and master, and I will\ncarry out your commands exactly, but tell me what you will leave me to\nlive upon in the meantime.\" And Fioravante answered, \"What the horses\nleave of their own corn will be enough for you.\"\n\nOnly conceive how poor Cannetella now felt, and guess whether she did\nnot curse the hour and moment she was born! Cold and frozen, she made\nup in tears what she wanted in food, bewailing her fate which had\nbrought her down from a royal palace to a stable, from mattresses of\nBarbary wool to straw, from nice, delicate morsels to the leavings of\nhorses. And she led this miserable life for several months, during\nwhich time corn was given to the horses by an unseen hand, and what\nthey left supported her.\n\nBut at the end of this time, as she was standing one day looking\nthrough a hole, she saw a most beautiful garden, in which there were so\nmany espaliers of lemons, and grottoes of citron, beds of flowers and\nfruit-trees and trellises of vines, that it was a joy to behold. At\nthis sight a great longing seized her for a great bunch of grapes that\ncaught her eye, and she said to herself, \"Come what will and if the sky\nfall, I will go out silently and softly and pluck it. What will it\nmatter a hundred years hence? Who is there to tell my husband? And\nshould he by chance hear of it, what will he do to me? Moreover, these\ngrapes are none of the common sort.\" So saying, she went out and\nrefreshed her spirits, which were weakened by hunger.\n\nA little while after, and before the appointed time, her husband came\nback, and one of his horses accused Cannetella of having taken the\ngrapes. Whereat, Fioravante in a rage, drawing his knife, was about to\nkill her, but, falling on her knees, she besought him to stay his hand,\nsince hunger drives the wolf from the wood. And she begged so hard that\nFioravante replied, \"I forgive you this time, and grant you your life\nout of charity, but if ever again you are tempted to disobey me, and I\nfind that you have let the sun see you, I will make mincemeat of you.\nNow, mind me; I am going away once more, and shall be gone seven years.\nSo take care and plough straight, for you will not escape so easily\nagain, but I shall pay you off the new and the old scores together.\"\n\nSo saying, he departed, and Cannetella shed a river of tears, and,\nwringing her hands, beating her breast, and tearing her hair, she\ncried, \"Oh, that ever I was born into the world to be destined to this\nwretched fate! Oh, father, why have you ruined me? But why do I\ncomplain of my father when I have brought this ill upon myself? I alone\nam the cause of my misfortunes. I wished for a head of gold, only to\ncome to grief and die by iron! This is the punishment of Fate, for I\nought to have done my father's will, and not have had such whims and\nfancies. He who minds not what his father and mother say goes a road he\ndoes not know.\" And so she lamented every day, until her eyes became\ntwo fountains, and her face was so thin and sallow, that her own father\nwould not have known her.\n\nAt the end of a year the King's locksmith, whom Cannetella knew,\nhappening to pass by the stable, she called to him and went out. The\nsmith heard his name, but did not recognise the poor girl, who was so\nmuch altered; but when he knew who she was, and how she had become thus\nchanged, partly out of pity and partly to gain the King's favour, he\nput her into an empty cask he had with him on a pack-horse, and,\ntrotting off towards High-Hill, he arrived at midnight at the King's\npalace. Then he knocked at the door, and at first the servants would\nnot let him in, but roundly abused him for coming at such an hour to\ndisturb the sleep of the whole house. The King, however, hearing the\nuproar, and being told by a chamberlain what was the matter, ordered\nthe smith to be instantly admitted, for he knew that something unusual\nmust have made him come at that hour. Then the smith, unloading his\nbeast, knocked out the head of the cask, and forth came Cannetella, who\nneeded more than words to make her father recognise her, and had it not\nbeen for a mole on her arm she might well have been dismissed. But as\nsoon as he was assured of the truth he embraced and kissed her a\nthousand times. Then he instantly commanded a warm bath to be got\nready; when she was washed from head to foot, and had dressed herself,\nhe ordered food to be brought, for she was faint with hunger. Then her\nfather said to her, \"Who would ever have told me, my child, that I\nshould see you in this plight? Who has brought you to this sad\ncondition?\" And she answered, \"Alas, my dear sire, that Barbary Turk\nhas made me lead the life of a dog, so that I was nearly at death's\ndoor again and again. I cannot tell you what I have suffered, but, now\nthat I am here, never more will I stir from your feet. Rather will I be\na servant in your house than a queen in another. Rather will I wear\nsackcloth where you are than a golden mantle away from you. Rather will\nI turn a spit in your kitchen than hold a sceptre under the canopy of\nanother.\"\n\nMeanwhile Fioravante, returning home, was told by the horses that the\nlocksmith had carried off Cannetella in the cask, on hearing which,\nburning with shame, and all on fire with rage, off he ran towards\nHigh-Hill, and, meeting an old woman who lived opposite to the palace,\nhe said to her, \"What will you charge, good mother, to let me see the\nKing's daughter?\" Then she asked a hundred ducats, and Fioravante,\nputting his hand in his purse, instantly counted them out, one a-top of\nthe other. Thereupon the old woman took him up on the roof, where he\nsaw Cannetella drying her hair on a balcony. But--just as if her heart\nhad whispered to her--the maiden turned that way and saw the knave. She\nrushed downstairs and ran to her father, crying out, \"My lord, if you\ndo not this very instant make me a chamber with seven iron doors I am\nlost and undone!\"\n\n\"I will not lose you for such a trifle,\" said her father; \"I would\npluck out an eye to gratify such a dear daughter!\" So, no sooner said\nthan done, the doors were instantly made.\n\nWhen Fioravante heard of this he went again to the old woman and said\nto her, \"What shall I give you now? Go to the King's house, under\npretext of selling pots of rouge, and make your way to the chamber of\nthe King's daughter. When you are there contrive to slip this little\npiece of paper between the bed-clothes, saying, in an undertone, as you\nplace it there--\n\n     Let every one now soundly sleep,\n     But Cannetella awake shall keep.\"\n\nSo the old woman agreed for another hundred ducats, and she served him\nfaithfully.\n\nNow, as soon as she had done this trick, such a sound sleep fell on the\npeople of the house that they seemed as if they all were dead.\nCannetella alone remained awake, and when she heard the doors bursting\nopen she began to cry aloud as if she were burnt, but no one heard her,\nand there was no one to run to her aid. So Fioravante threw down all\nthe seven doors, and, entering her room, seized up Cannetella,\nbed-clothes and all, to carry her off. But, as luck would have it, the\npaper the old woman had put there fell on the ground, and the spell was\nbroken. All the people of the house awoke, and, hearing Cannetella's\ncries, they ran--cats, dogs, and all--and, laying hold on the ogre,\nquickly cut him in pieces like a pickled tunny. Thus he was caught in\nthe trap he had laid for poor Cannetella, learning to his cost that--\n\n     \"No one suffereth greater pain\n     Than he who by his own sword is slain.\"\n\n\n\nXVIII\n\nCORVETTO\n\nI once heard say that Juno went to Candia to find Falsehood. But if any\none were to ask me where fraud and hypocrisy might truly be found, I\nshould know of no other place to name than the Court, where detraction\nalways wears the mask of amusement; where, at the same time, people cut\nand sew up, wound and heal, break and glue together--of which I will\ngive you one instance in the story that I am going to tell you.\n\nThere was once upon a time in the service of the King of Wide-River an\nexcellent youth named Corvetto, who, for his good conduct, was beloved\nby his master; and for this very cause was disliked and hated by all\nthe courtiers. These courtiers were filled with spite and malice, and\nbursting with envy at the kindness which the King showed to Corvetto;\nso that all day long, in every corner of the palace, they did nothing\nbut tattle and whisper, murmur and grumble at the poor lad, saying,\n\"What sorcery has this fellow practised on the King that he takes such\na fancy to him? How comes he by this luck that not a day passes that he\nreceives some new favours, whilst we are for ever going backward like a\nrope-maker, and getting from bad to worse, though we slave like dogs,\ntoil like field-labourers, and run about like deer to hit the King's\npleasure to a hair? Truly one must be born to good fortune in this\nworld, and he who has not luck might as well be thrown into the sea.\nWhat is to be done? We can only look on and envy.\" These and other\nwords fell from their mouths like poisoned arrows aimed at the ruin of\nCorvetto as at a target. Alas for him who is condemned to that den the\nCourt, where flattery is sold by the kilderkin, malignity and\nill-offices are measured out in bushels, deceit and treachery are\nweighed by the ton! But who can count all the attempts these courtiers\nmade to bring him to grief, or the false tales that they told to the\nKing to destroy his reputation! But Corvetto, who was enchanted, and\nperceived the traps, and discovered the tricks, was aware of all the\nintrigues and the ambuscades, the plots and conspiracies of his\nenemies. He kept his ears always on the alert and his eyes open in\norder not to take a false step, well knowing that the fortune of\ncourtiers is as glass. But the higher the lad continued to rise the\nlower the others fell; till at last, being puzzled to know how to take\nhim off his feet, as their slander was not believed, they thought of\nleading him to disaster by the path of flattery, which they attempted\nin the following manner.\n\nTen miles distant from Scotland, where the seat of this King was, there\ndwelt an ogre, the most inhuman and savage that had ever been in\nOgreland, who, being persecuted by the King, had fortified himself in a\nlonesome wood on the top of a mountain, where no bird ever flew, and\nwas so thick and tangled that one could never see the sun there. This\nogre had a most beautiful horse, which looked as if it were formed with\na pencil; and amongst other wonderful things, it could speak like any\nman. Now the courtiers, who knew how wicked the ogre was, how thick the\nwood, how high the mountain, and how difficult it was to get at the\nhorse, went to the King, and telling him minutely the perfections of\nthe animal, which was a thing worthy of a King, added that he ought to\nendeavour by all means to get it out of the ogre's claws, and that\nCorvetto was just the lad to do this, as he was expert and clever at\nescaping out of the fire. The King, who knew not that under the flowers\nof these words a serpent was concealed, instantly called Corvetto, and\nsaid to him, \"If you love me, see that in some way or another you\nobtain for me the horse of my enemy the ogre, and you shall have no\ncause to regret having done me this service.\"\n\nCorvetto knew well that this drum was sounded by those who wished him\nill; nevertheless, to obey the King, he set out and took the road to\nthe mountain. Then going very quietly to the ogre's stable, he saddled\nand mounted the horse, and fixing his feet firmly in the stirrup, took\nhis way back. But as soon as the horse saw himself spurred out of the\npalace, he cried aloud, \"Hollo! be on your guard! Corvetto is riding\noff with me.\" At this alarm the ogre instantly set out, with all the\nanimals that served him, to cut Corvetto in pieces. From this side\njumped an ape, from that was seen a large bear; here sprang forth a\nlion, there came running a wolf. But the youth, by the aid of bridle\nand spur, distanced the mountain, and galloping without stop to the\ncity, arrived at the Court, where he presented the horse to the King.\n\nThen the King embraced him more than a son, and pulling out his purse,\nfilled his hands with crown-pieces. At this the rage of the courtiers\nknew no bounds; and whereas at first they were puffed up with a little\npipe, they were now bursting with the blasts of a smith's bellows,\nseeing that the crowbars with which they thought to lay Corvetto's good\nfortune in ruins only served to smooth the road to his prosperity.\nKnowing, however, that walls are not levelled by the first attack of\nthe battering-ram, they resolved to try their luck a second time, and\nsaid to the King, \"We wish you joy of the beautiful horse! It will\nindeed be an ornament to the royal stable. But what a pity you have not\nthe ogre's tapestry, which is a thing more beautiful than words can\ntell, and would spread your fame far and wide! There is no one,\nhowever, able to procure this treasure but Corvetto, who is just the\nlad to do such a kind of service.\"\n\nThen the King, who danced to every tune, and ate only the peel of this\nbitter but sugared fruit, called Corvetto, and begged him to procure\nfor him the ogre's tapestry. Off went Corvetto and in four seconds was\non the top of the mountain where the ogre lived; then passing unseen\ninto the chamber in which he slept, he hid himself under the bed, and\nwaited as still as a mouse, until Night, to make the Stars laugh, puts\na carnival-mask on the face of the Sky. And as soon as the ogre and his\nwife were gone to bed, Corvetto stripped the walls of the chamber very\nquietly, and wishing to steal the counterpane of the bed likewise, he\nbegan to pull it gently. Thereupon the ogre, suddenly starting up, told\nhis wife not to pull so, for she was dragging all the clothes off him,\nand would give him his death of cold.\n\n\"Why you are uncovering me!\" answered the ogress.\n\n\"Where is the counterpane?\" replied the ogre; and stretching out his\nhand to the floor he touched Corvetto's face; whereupon he set up a\nloud cry,--\"The imp! the imp! Hollo, here, lights! Run quickly!\"--till\nthe whole house was turned topsy-turvy with the noise. But Corvetto,\nafter throwing the clothes out of the window, let himself drop down\nupon them. Then making up a good bundle, he set out on the road to the\ncity, where the reception he met with from the King, and the vexation\nof the courtiers, who were bursting with spite, are not to be told.\nNevertheless they laid a plan to fall upon Corvetto with the rear-guard\nof their roguery, and went again to the King, who was almost beside\nhimself with delight at the tapestry--which was not only of silk\nembroidered with gold, but had besides more than a thousand devices and\nthoughts worked on it. And amongst the rest, if I remember right, there\nwas a cock in the act of crowing at daybreak, and out of its mouth was\nseen coming a motto in Tuscan: IF I ONLY SEE YOU. And in another part a\ndrooping heliotrope with a Tuscan motto: AT SUNSET--with so many other\npretty things that it would require a better memory and more time than\nI have to relate them.\n\nWhen the courtiers came to the King, who was thus transported with joy,\nthey said to him, \"As Corvetto has done so much to serve you, it would\nbe no great matter for him, in order to give you a signal pleasure, to\nget the ogre's palace, which is fit for an emperor to live in; for it\nhas so many rooms and chambers, inside and out, that it can hold an\narmy. And you would never believe all the courtyards, porticoes,\ncolonnades, balconies, and spiral chimneys which there are--built with\nsuch marvellous architecture that Art prides herself upon them, Nature\nis abashed, and Stupor is in delight.\"\n\nThe King, who had a fruitful brain which conceived quickly, called\nCorvetto again, and telling him the great longing that had seized him\nfor the ogre's palace, begged him to add this service to all the others\nhe had done him, promising to score it up with the chalk of gratitude\nat the tavern of memory. So Corvetto instantly set out heels over head;\nand arriving at the ogre's palace, he found that the ogress, whilst her\nhusband was gone to invite the kinsfolk, was busying herself with\npreparing the feast. Then Corvetto entering, with a look of compassion,\nsaid, \"Good-day, my good woman! Truly, you are a brave housewife! But\nwhy do you torment the very life out of you in this way? Only yesterday\nyou were ill in bed, and now you are slaving thus, and have no pity on\nyour own flesh.\"\n\n\"What would you have me do?\" replied the ogress. \"I have no one to help\nme.\"\n\n\"I am here,\" answered Corvetto, \"ready to help you tooth and nail.\"\n\n\"Welcome, then!\" said the ogress; \"and as you proffer me so much\nkindness, just help me to split four logs of wood.\"\n\n\"With all my heart,\" answered Corvetto, \"but if four logs are not enow,\nlet me split five.\" And taking up a newly-ground axe, instead of\nstriking the wood, he struck the ogress on the neck, and made her fall\nto the ground like a pear. Then running quickly to the gate, he dug a\ndeep hole before the entrance, and covering it over with bushes and\nearth, he hid himself behind the gate.\n\nAs soon as Corvetto saw the ogre coming with his kinsfolk, he set up a\nloud cry in the courtyard, \"Stop, stop! I've caught him!\" and \"Long\nlive the King of Wide-River.\" When the ogre heard this challenge, he\nran like mad at Corvetto, to make a hash of him. But rushing furiously\ntowards the gate, down he tumbled with all his companions, head over\nheels to the bottom of the pit, where Corvetto speedily stoned them to\ndeath. Then he shut the door, and took the keys to the King, who,\nseeing the valour and cleverness of the lad, in spite of ill-fortune\nand the envy and annoyance of the courtiers, gave him his daughter to\nwife; so that the crosses of envy had proved rollers to launch\nCorvetto's bark of life on the sea of greatness; whilst his enemies\nremained confounded and bursting with rage, and went to bed without a\ncandle; for--\n\n     \"The punishment of ill deeds past,\n     Though long delay'd, yet comes at last.\"\n\n\n\nXIX\n\nTHE BOOBY\n\nAn ignorant man who associates with clever people has always been more\npraised than a wise man who keeps the company of fools; for as much\nprofit and fame as one may gain from the former, so much wealth and\nhonour one may lose by the fault of the latter; and as the proof of the\npudding is in the eating, you will know from the story which I am going\nto tell you whether my proposition be true.\n\nThere was once a man who was as rich as the sea, but as there can never\nbe any perfect happiness in this world, he had a son so idle and\ngood-for-nothing that he could not tell a bean from a cucumber. So\nbeing unable any longer to put up with his folly, he gave him a good\nhandful of crowns, and sent him to trade in the Levant; for he well\nknew that seeing various countries and mixing with divers people awaken\nthe genius and sharpen the judgment, and make men expert.\n\nMoscione (for that was the name of the son) got on horseback, and began\nhis journey towards Venice, the arsenal of the wonders of the world, to\nembark on board some vessel bound for Cairo; and when he had travelled\na good day's journey, he met with a person who was standing fixed at\nthe foot of a poplar, to whom he said, \"What is your name, my lad?\nWhence are you, and what is your trade?\" And the lad replied, \"My name\nis Lightning; I am from Arrowland, and I can run like the wind.\" \"I\nshould like to see a proof of it,\" said Moscione; and Lightning\nanswered, \"Wait a moment, and you will see whether it is dust or flour.\"\n\nWhen they had stood waiting a little while, a doe came bounding over\nthe plain, and Lightning, letting her pass on some way, to give her the\nmore law, darted after her so rapidly and light of foot, that he would\nhave gone over a place covered with flour without leaving the mark of\nhis shoe, and in four bounds he came up with her. Moscione, amazed at\nthis exploit, asked if he would come and live with him, and promised to\npay him royally.\n\nSo Lightning consented, and they went on their way together; but they\nhad not journeyed many miles when they met another youth, to whom\nMoscione said, \"What is your name, comrade? What country are you from?\nAnd what is your trade?\" \"My name,\" replied the lad, \"is Quick-ear; I\nam from Vale-Curious; and when I put my ear the ground I hear all that\nis passing in the world without stirring from the spot. I perceive the\nmonopolies and agreements of tradespeople to raise the prices of\nthings, the ill-offices of courtiers, the appointments of lovers, the\nplots of robbers, the reports of spies, the complaints of servants, the\ngossiping of old women, and the oaths of sailors; so that no one has\never been able to discover so much as my ears can.\"\n\n\"If that be true,\" said Moscione, \"tell me what they are now saying at\nmy home.\"\n\nSo the lad put his ear to the ground, and replied, \"An old man is\ntalking to his wife, and saying, 'Praised be Sol in Leo! I have got rid\nfrom my sight of that fellow Moscione, that face of old-fashioned\ncrockery, that nail in my heart. By travelling through the world he\nwill at least become a man, and no longer be such a stupid ass, such a\nsimpleton, such a lose-the-day fellow, such a----'\"\n\n\"Stop, stop!\" cried Moscione, \"you tell the truth and I believe you. So\ncome along with me, for you have found the road to good-luck.\"\n\n\"Well and good!\" said the youth. So they all went on together and\ntravelled ten miles farther, when they met another man, to whom\nMoscione said, \"What is your name, my brave fellow? Where were you\nborn? And what can you do in the world?\" And the man answered, \"My name\nis Shoot-straight; I am from Castle Aimwell; and I can shoot with a\ncrossbow so point-blank as to hit a crab-apple in the middle.\"\n\n\"I should like to see the proof,\" said Moscione. So the lad charged his\ncrossbow, took aim, and made a pea leap from the top of a stone;\nwhereupon Moscione took him also like the others into his company. And\nthey travelled on another day's journey, till they came to some people\nwho were building a large pier in the scorching heat of the sun, and\nwho might well say, \"Boy, put water to the wine, for my heart is\nburning.\" So Moscione had compassion on them, and said, \"My masters,\nhow is it you have the head to stand in this furnace, which is fit to\nroast a buffalo?\" And one of them answered, \"Oh, we are as cool as a\nrose; for we have a young man here who blows upon us from behind in\nsuch a manner that it seems just as if the west wind were blowing.\"\n\"Let me see him, I pray,\" cried Moscione. So the mason called the lad,\nand Moscione said to him, \"Tell me, by the life of your father, what is\nyour name? what country are you from? and what is your profession!\" And\nthe lad replied, \"My name is Blow-blast; I am from Windy-land; and I\ncan make all the winds with my mouth. If you wish for a zephyr, I will\nbreathe one that will send you in transports; if you wish for a squall,\nI will throw down houses.\"\n\n\"Seeing is believing,\" said Moscione. Whereupon Blow-blast breathed at\nfirst quite gently, so that it seemed to be the wind that blows at\nPosilippo towards evening; then turning suddenly to some trees, he sent\nforth such a furious blast that it uprooted a row of oaks.\n\nWhen Moscione saw this he took him for a companion; and travelling on\nas far again, he met another lad, to whom he said, \"What is your name,\nif I may make so bold? Whence are you, if one may ask? And what is your\ntrade, if it is a fair question?\" And the lad answered, \"My name is\nStrong-back; I am from Valentino; and I have such strength that I can\ntake a mountain on my back, and it seems to me only a feather.\"\n\n\"If that be the case,\" said Moscione, \"you deserve to be the king of\nthe custom-house, and you should be chosen for standard-bearer on the\nfirst of May.  But I should like to see a proof of what you say.\"\n\nThen Strong-back began to load himself with masses of rock, trunks of\ntrees, and so many other weights that a thousand large waggons could\nnot have carried them; which, when Moscione saw, he agreed with the lad\nto join him.\n\nSo they travelled on till they came to Fair-Flower, the King of which\nplace had a daughter who ran like the wind, and could pass over the\nwaving corn without bending an ear; and the King had issued a\nproclamation that whoever could over-take her in running should have\nher to wife, but whoever was left behind should lose his head.\n\nWhen Moscione arrived in this country and heard the proclamation, he\nwent straight to the King, and offered to run with his daughter, making\nthe wise agreement either to win the race or leave his noddle there.\nBut in the morning he sent to inform the King that he was taken ill,\nand being unable to run himself he would send another young man in his\nplace. \"Come who will!\" said Ciannetella (for that was the King's\ndaughter), \"I care not a fig--it is all one to me.\"\n\nSo when the great square was filled with people, come to see the race,\ninsomuch that the men swarmed like ants, and the windows and roofs were\nall as full as an egg, Lightning came out and took his station at the\ntop of the square, waiting for the signal. And lo! forth came\nCiannetella, dressed in a little gown, tucked half-way up her legs, and\na neat and pretty little shoe with a single sole. Then they placed\nthemselves shoulder to shoulder, and as soon as the tarantara and\ntoo-too of the trumpets was heard, off they darted, running at such a\nrate that their heels touched their shoulders, and in truth they seemed\njust like hares with the grey-hounds after them, horses broken loose\nfrom the stable, or dogs with kettles tied to their tails. But\nLightning (as he was both by name and nature) left the princess more\nthan a hand's-breadth behind him, and came first to the goal. Then you\nshould have heard the huzzaing and shouting, the cries and the uproar,\nthe whistling and clapping of hands of all the people, bawling out,\n\"Hurra! Long life to the stranger!\" Whereat Ciannetella's face turned\nas red as a schoolboy's who is going to be whipped, and she stood lost\nin shame and confusion at seeing herself vanquished. But as there were\nto be two heats to the race, she fell to planning how to be revenged\nfor this affront; and going home, she put a charm into a ring of such\npower that if any one had it upon his finger his legs would totter so\nthat he would not be able to walk, much less run; then she sent it as a\npresent to Lightning, begging him to wear it on his finger for love of\nher.\n\nQuick-ear, who heard this trick plotted between the father and\ndaughter, said nothing, and waited to see the upshot of the affair. And\nwhen, at the trumpeting of the birds, the Sun whipped on the Night, who\nsat mounted on the jackass of the Shades, they returned to the field,\nwhere at the usual signal they fell to plying their heels. But if\nCiannetella was like another Atalanta, Lightning had become no less\nlike an old donkey and a foundered horse, for he could not stir a step.\nBut Shoot-straight, who saw his comrade's danger, and heard from\nQuick-ear how matters stood, laid hold of his crossbow and shot a bolt\nso exactly that it hit Lightning's finger, and out flew the stone from\nthe ring, in which the virtue of the charm lay; whereupon his legs,\nthat had been tied, were set free, and with four goat-leaps he passed\nCiannetella and won the race.\n\nThe King seeing this victory of a blockhead, the palm thus carried off\nby a simpleton, the triumph of a fool, bethought himself seriously\nwhether or no he should give him his daughter; and taking counsel with\nthe wiseacres of his court, they replied that Ciannetella was not a\nmouthful for the tooth of such a miserable dog and lose-the-day bird,\nand that, without breaking his word, he might commute the promise of\nhis daughter for a gift of crowns, which would be more to the taste of\na poor beggar like Moscione than all the women in the world.\n\nThis advice pleased the King, and he asked Moscione how much money he\nwould take instead of the wife who had been promised him. Then\nMoscione, after consulting with the others, answered, \"I will take as\nmuch gold and silver as one of my comrades can carry on his back.\" The\nking consented; whereupon they brought Strong-back, on whom they began\nto load bales of ducats, sacks of patacas, large purses full of crowns,\nbarrels of copper money, chests full of chains and rings; but the more\nthey loaded him the firmer he stood, just like a tower, so that the\ntreasury, the banks, the usurers, and the money-dealers of the city did\nnot suffice, and he sent to all the great people in every direction to\nborrow their silver candlesticks, basins, jugs, plates, trays, and\nbaskets; and yet all was not enough to make up the full load. At length\nthey went away, not laden but tired and satisfied.\n\nWhen the councillors saw what heaps and stores these six miserable dogs\nwere carrying off, they said to the King that it was a great piece of\nassery to load them with all the sinews of his kingdom, and that it\nwould be well to send people after them to lessen the load of that\nAtlas who was carrying on his shoulders a heaven of treasure. The King\ngave ear to this advice, and immediately despatched a party of armed\nmen, foot and horse, to overtake Moscione and his friends. But\nQuick-ear, who had heard this counsel, informed his comrades; and while\nthe dust was rising to the sky from the trampling of those who were\ncoming to unload the rich cargo, Blow-blast, seeing that things were\ncome to a bad pass, began to blow at such a rate that he not only made\nthe enemies fall flat on the ground, but he sent them flying more than\na mile distant, as the north wind does the folks who pass through that\ncountry. So without meeting any more hindrance, Moscione arrived at his\nfather's house, where he shared the booty with his companions, since,\nas the saying goes, a good deed deserves a good meed. So he sent them\naway content and happy; but he stayed with his father, rich beyond\nmeasure, and saw himself a simpleton laden with gold, not giving the\nlie to the saying--\n\n     \"Heaven sends biscuits to him who has no teeth.\"\n\n\n\nXX\n\nTHE STONE IN THE COCK'S HEAD\n\nThe robber's wife does not always laugh; he who weaves fraud works his\nown ruin; there is no deceit which is not at last discovered, no\ntreachery that does not come to light; walls have ears, and are spies\nto rogues; the earth gapes and discovers theft, as I will prove to you\nif you pay attention.\n\nThere was once in the city of Dark-Grotto a certain man named Minecco\nAniello, who was so persecuted by fortune that all his fixtures and\nmoveables consisted only of a short-legged cock, which he had reared\nupon bread-crumbs. But one morning, being pinched with appetite (for\nhunger drives the wolf from the thicket), he took it into his head to\nsell the cock, and, taking it to the market, he met two thievish\nmagicians, with whom he made a bargain, and sold it for half-a-crown.\nSo they told him to take it to their house, and they would count him\nout the money. Then the magicians went their way, and, Minecco Aniello\nfollowing them, overheard them talking gibberish together and saying,\n\"Who would have told us that we should meet with such a piece of good\nluck, Jennarone? This cock will make our fortune to a certainty by the\nstone which, you know, he has in his pate. We will quickly have it set\nin a ring, and then we shall have everything we can ask for.\"\n\n\"Be quiet, Jacovuccio,\" answered Jennarone; \"I see myself rich and can\nhardly believe it, and I am longing to twist the cock's neck and give a\nkick in the face of beggary, for in this world virtue without money\ngoes for nothing, and a man is judged of by his coat.\"\n\nWhen Minecco Aniello, who had travelled about in the world and eaten\nbread from more than one oven, heard this gibberish he turned on his\nheel and scampered off. And, running home, he twisted the cock's neck,\nand opening its head found the stone, which he had instantly set in a\nbrass ring. Then, to make a trial of its virtue, he said, \"I wish to\nbecome a youth eighteen years old.\"\n\nHardly had he uttered the words when his blood began to flow more\nquickly, his nerves became stronger, his limbs firmer, his flesh\nfresher, his eyes more fiery, his silver hairs were turned into gold,\nhis mouth, which was a sacked village, became peopled with teeth; his\nbeard, which was as thick as a wood, became like a nursery garden--in\nshort, he was changed to a most beautiful youth. Then he said again, \"I\nwish for a splendid palace, and to marry the King's daughter.\" And lo!\nthere instantly appeared a palace of incredible magnificence, in which\nwere apartments that would amaze you, columns to astound you, pictures\nto fill you with wonder; silver glittered around, and gold was trodden\nunderfoot; the jewels dazzled your eyes; the servants swarmed like\nants, the horses and carriages were not to be counted--in short, there\nwas such a display of riches that the King stared at the sight, and\nwillingly gave him his daughter Natalizia.\n\nMeanwhile the magicians, having discovered Minecco Aniello's great\nwealth, laid a plan to rob him of his good fortune, so they made a\npretty little doll which played and danced by means of clockwork; and,\ndressing themselves like merchants, they went to Pentella, the daughter\nof Minecco Aniello, under pretext of selling it to her. When Pentella\nsaw the beautiful little thing she asked them what price they put upon\nit, and they replied that it was not to be bought with money, but that\nshe might have it and welcome if she would only do them a favour, which\nwas to let them see the make of the ring which her father possessed, in\norder to take the model and make another like it, then they would give\nher the doll without any payment at all.\n\nPentella, who had never heard the proverb, \"Think well before you buy\nanything cheap,\" instantly accepted this offer, and, bidding them\nreturn the next morning, she promised to ask her father to lend her the\nring. So the magicians went away, and when her father returned home\nPentella coaxed and caressed him, until at last she persuaded him to\ngive her the ring, making the excuse that she was sad at heart, and\nwished to divert her mind a little.\n\nWhen the next day came, as soon as the scavenger of the Sun sweeps the\nlast traces of the Shades from the streets and squares of Heaven, the\nmagicians returned, and no sooner had they the ring in their hands than\nthey instantly vanished, and not a trace of them was to be seen, so\nthat poor Pentella had like to have died with terror.\n\nBut when the magicians came to a wood, where the branches of some of\nthe trees were dancing the sword-dance, and the boughs of the others\nwere playing together at hot-cockles, they desired the ring to destroy\nthe spell by which the old man had become young again. And instantly\nMinecco Aniello, who was just at that moment in the presence of the\nKing, was suddenly seen to grow hoary, his hairs to whiten, his\nforehead to wrinkle, his eyebrows to grow bristly, his eyes to sink in,\nhis face to be furrowed, his mouth to become toothless, his beard to\ngrow bushy, his back to be humped, his legs to tremble, and, above all,\nhis glittering garments to turn to rags and tatters.\n\nThe King, seeing the miserable beggar seated beside him at table,\nordered him to be instantly driven away with blows and hard words,\nwhereupon Aniello, thus suddenly fallen from his good luck, went\nweeping to his daughter, and asked for the ring in order to set matters\nto rights again. But when he heard the fatal trick played by the false\nmerchants he was ready to throw himself out of the window, cursing a\nthousand times the ignorance of his daughter, who, for the sake of a\nsilly doll had turned him into a miserable scarecrow, and for a paltry\nthing of rags had brought him to rags himself, adding that he was\nresolved to go wandering about the world like a bad shilling, until he\nshould get tidings of those merchants. So saying he threw a cloak about\nhis neck and a wallet on his back, drew his sandals on his feet, took a\nstaff in his hand, and, leaving his daughter all chilled and frozen, he\nset out walking desperately on and on until he arrived at the kingdom\nof Deep-Hole, inhabited by the mice, where, being taken for a big spy\nof the cats, he was instantly led before Rosecone, the King. Then the\nKing asked him who he was, whence he came, and what he was about in\nthat country; and Minecco Aniello, after first giving the King a\ncheese-paring, in sign of tribute, related to him all his misfortunes\none by one, and concluded by saying that he was resolved to continue\nhis toil and travel, until he should get tidings of those thievish\nvillains who had robbed him of so precious a jewel, taking from him at\nonce the flower of his youth, the source of his wealth, and the prop of\nhis honour.\n\nAt these words Rosecone felt pity nibbling at his heart, and, wishing\nto comfort the poor man, he summoned the eldest mice to a council, and\nasked their opinions on the misfortunes of Minecco Aniello, commanding\nthem to use all diligence and endeavour to obtain some tidings of these\nfalse merchants. Now, among the rest, it happened that Rudolo and\nSaltariello were present--mice who were well used to the ways of the\nworld, and had lived for six years at a tavern of great resort hard by;\nand they said to Aniello, \"Be of good heart, comrade! matters will turn\nout better than you imagine. You must know that one day, when we were\nin a room in the hostelry of the  Horn,' where the most famous men in\nthe world lodge and make merry, two persons from Hook Castle came in,\nwho, after they had eaten their fill and had seen the bottom of their\nflagon, fell to talking of a trick they had played a certain old man of\nDark-Grotto, and how they had cheated him out of a stone of great\nvalue, which one of them, named Jennarone, said he would never take\nfrom his finger, that he might not run the risk of losing it as the old\nman's daughter had done.\"\n\nWhen Minecco Aniello heard this, he told the two mice that if they\nwould trust themselves to accompany him to the country where these\nrogues lived and recover the ring for him, he would give them a good\nlot of cheese and salt meat, which they might eat and enjoy with his\nmajesty the King. Then the two mice, after bargaining for a reward,\noffered to go over sea and mountain, and, taking leave of his mousy\nmajesty, they set out.\n\nAfter journeying a long way they arrived at Hook Castle, where the mice\ntold Minecco Aniello to remain under some trees on the brink of a\nriver, which like a leech drew the moisture from the land and\ndischarged it into the sea. Then they went to seek the house of the\nmagicians, and, observing that Jennarone never took the ring from his\nfinger, they sought to gain the victory by stratagem. So, waiting till\nNight had dyed with purple grape-juice the sunburnt face of Heaven, and\nthe magicians had gone to bed and were fast asleep, Rudolo began to\nnibble the finger on which the ring was, whereupon Jennarone, feeling\nthe smart, took the ring off and laid it on a table at the head of the\nbed. But as soon as Saltariello saw this, he popped the ring into his\nmouth, and in four skips he was off to find Minecco Aniello, who, with\neven greater joy than a man at the gallows feels when a pardon arrives,\ninstantly turned the magicians into two jackasses; and, turning his\nmantle over one of them, he bestrode him like a noble count, then he\nloaded the other with cheese and bacon, and set off toward Deep-Hole,\nwhere, having given presents to the King and his councillors, he\nthanked them for all the good fortune he had received by their\nassistance, praying Heaven that no mouse-trap might ever lay hold of\nthem, that no cat might ever harm them, and that no arsenic might ever\npoison them.\n\nThen, leaving that country, Minecco Aniello returned to Dark-Grotto\neven more handsome than before, and was received by the King and his\ndaughter with the greatest affection in the world. And, having ordered\nthe two asses to be cast down from a rock, he lived happily with his\nwife, never more taking the ring from his finger that he might not\nagain commit such a folly, for--\n\n     \"The cat who has been burnt with fire ever after fears the cold\nhearthstone.\"\n\n\n\nXXI\n\nTHE THREE ENCHANTED PRINCES\n\nOnce upon a time the King of Green-Bank had three daughters, who were\nperfect jewels, with whom three sons of the King of Fair-Meadow were\ndesperately in love. But these Princes having been changed into animals\nby the spell of a fairy, the King of Green-Bank disdained to give them\nhis daughters to wife. Whereupon the first, who was a beautiful Falcon,\ncalled together all the birds to a council; and there came the\nchaffinches, tomtits, woodpeckers, fly-catchers, jays, blackbirds,\ncuckoos, thrushes, and every other kind of bird. And when they were all\nassembled at his summons, he ordered them to destroy all the blossoms\non the trees of Green-Bank, so that not a flower or leaf should remain.\nThe second Prince, who was a Stag, summoning all the goats, rabbits,\nhares, hedgehogs, and other animals of that country, laid waste all the\ncorn-fields so that there was not a single blade of grass or corn left.\nThe third Prince, who was a Dolphin, consulting together with a hundred\nmonsters of the sea, made such a tempest arise upon the coast that not\na boat escaped.\n\nNow the King saw that matters were going from bad to worse, and that he\ncould not remedy the mischief which these three wild lovers were\ncausing; so he resolved to get out of his trouble, and made up his mind\nto give them his daughters to wife; and thereupon, without wanting\neither feasts or songs, they carried their brides off and out of the\nkingdom.\n\nOn parting from her daughters, Granzolla the Queen gave each of them a\nring, one exactly like the other, telling them that if they happened to\nbe separated, and after a while to meet again, or to see any of their\nkinsfolk, they would recognise one another by means of these rings. So\ntaking their leave they departed. And the Falcon carried Fabiella, who\nwas the eldest of the sisters, to the top of a mountain, which was so\nhigh that, passing the confines of the clouds, it reached with a dry\nhead to a region where it never rains; and there, leading her to a most\nbeautiful palace, she lived like a Queen.\n\nThe Stag carried Vasta, the second sister, into a wood, which was so\nthick that the Shades, when summoned by the Night, could not find their\nway out to escort her. There he placed her, as befitted her rank, in a\nwonderfully splendid house with a garden.\n\nThe Dolphin swam with Rita, the third sister, on his back into the\nmiddle of the sea, where, upon a large rock, he showed her a mansion in\nwhich three crowned Kings might live.\n\nMeanwhile Granzolla gave birth to a fine little boy, whom they named\nTittone. And when he was fifteen years old, hearing his mother\nlamenting continually that she never heard any tidings of her three\ndaughters, who were married to three animals; he took it into his head\nto travel through the world until he should obtain some news of them.\nSo after begging and entreating his father and mother for a long time,\nthey granted him permission, bidding him take for his journey\nattendants and everything needful and befitting a Prince; and the Queen\nalso gave him another ring similar to those she had given to her\ndaughters.\n\nTittone went his way, and left no corner of Italy, not a nook of\nFrance, nor any part of Spain unsearched. Then he passed through\nEngland, and traversed Slavonia, and visited Poland, and, in short,\ntravelled both east and west. At length, leaving all his servants, some\nat the taverns and some at the hospitals, he set out without a farthing\nin his pocket, and came to the top of the mountain where dwelt the\nFalcon and Fabiella. And as he stood there, beside himself with\namazement, contemplating the beauty of the palace--the corner-stones of\nwhich were of porphyry, the walls of alabaster, the windows of gold,\nand the tiles of silver--his sister observed him, and ordering him to\nbe called, she demanded who he was, whence he came, and what chance had\nbrought him to that country. When Tittone told her his country, his\nfather and mother, and his name, Fabiella knew him to be her brother,\nand the more when she compared the ring upon his finger with that which\nher mother had given her; and embracing him with great joy, she\nconcealed him, fearing that her husband would be angry when he returned\nhome.\n\nAs soon as the Falcon came home, Fabiella began to tell him that a\ngreat longing had come over her to see her parents. And the Falcon\nanswered, \"Let the wish pass, wife; for that cannot be unless the\nhumour takes me.\"\n\n\"Let us at least,\" said Fabiella, \"send to fetch one of my kinsfolk to\nkeep my company.\"\n\n\"And, pray, who will come so far to see you?\" replied the Falcon.\n\n\"Nay, but if any one should come,\" added Fabiella, \"would you be\ndispleased?\"\n\n\"Why should I be displeased?\" said the Falcon, \"it would be enough that\nhe were one of your kinsfolk to make me take him to my heart.\"\n\nWhen Fabiella heard this she took courage, and calling to her brother\nto come forth, she presented him to the Falcon, who exclaimed, \"Five\nand five are ten; love passes through the glove, and water through the\nboot. A hearty welcome to you! you are master in this house; command,\nand do just as you like.\" Then he gave orders that Tittone should be\nserved and treated with the same honour as himself.\n\nNow when Tittone had stayed a fortnight on the mountain, it came into\nhis head to go forth and seek his other sisters. So taking leave of\nFabiella and his brother-in-law, the Falcon gave him one of his\nfeathers, saying, \"Take this and prize it, my dear Tittone; for you may\none day be in trouble, and you will then esteem it a treasure.\nEnough--take good care of it; and if ever you meet with any mishap,\nthrow it on the ground, and say,  Come hither, come hither!' and you\nshall have cause to thank me.\"\n\nTittone wrapped the feather up in a sheet of paper, and, putting it in\nhis pocket, after a thousand ceremonies departed. And travelling on and\non a very long way, he arrived at last at the wood where the Stag lived\nwith Vasta; and going, half-dead with hunger, into the garden to pluck\nsome fruit, his sister saw him, and recognised him in the same manner\nas Fabiella had done. Then she presented Tittone to her husband, who\nreceived him with the greatest friendship, and treated him truly like a\nPrince.\n\nAt the end of a fortnight, when Tittone wished to depart, and go in\nsearch of his other sister, the Stag gave him one of his hairs,\nrepeating the same words as the Falcon had spoken about the feather.\nAnd setting out on his way, with a bagful of crown-pieces which the\nFalcon had given him, and as many more which the Stag gave him, he\nwalked on and on, until he came to the end of the earth, where, being\nstopped by the sea and unable to walk any further, he took ship,\nintending to seek through all the islands for tidings of his sister. So\nsetting sail, he went about and about, until at length he was carried\nto an island, where lived the Dolphin with Rita. And no sooner had he\nlanded, than his sister saw and recognised him in the same manner as\nthe others had done, and he was received by her husband with all\npossible affection.\n\nNow after a while Tittone wished to set out again to go and visit his\nfather and mother, whom he had not seen for so long a time. So the\nDolphin gave him one of his scales, telling him the same as the others\nhad; and Tittone, mounting a horse, set out on his travels. But he had\nhardly proceeded half a mile from the seashore, when entering a\nwood--the abode of Fear and the Shades, where a continual fair of\ndarkness and terror was kept up--he found a great tower in the middle\nof a lake, whose waters were kissing the feet of the trees, and\nentreating them not to let the Sun witness their pranks. At a window in\nthe tower Tittone saw a most beautiful maiden sitting at the feet of a\nhideous dragon, who was asleep. When the damsel saw Tittone, she said\nin a low and piteous voice, \"O noble youth, sent perchance by heaven to\ncomfort me in my miseries in this place, where the face of a Christian\nis never seen, release me from the power of this tyrannical serpent,\nwho has carried me off from my father, the King of Bright-Valley, and\nshut me up in this frightful tower, where I must die a miserable death.\"\n\n\"Alas, my beauteous lady!\" replied Tittone, \"what can I do to serve\nthee? Who can pass this lake? Who can climb this tower? Who can\napproach yon horrid dragon, that carries terror in his look, sows fear,\nand causes dismay to spring up? But softly, wait a minute, and we'll\nfind a way with another's help to drive this serpent away. Step by\nstep--the more haste, the worse speed: we shall soon see whether  tis\negg or wind.\" And so saying he threw the feather, the hair, and the\nscale, which his brothers-in-law had given him, on the ground,\nexclaiming, \"Come hither, come hither!\" And falling on the earth like\ndrops of summer rain, which makes the frogs spring up, suddenly there\nappeared the Falcon, the Stag, and the Dolphin, who cried out all\ntogether, \"Behold us here! what are your commands?\"\n\nWhen Tittone saw this, he said with great joy, \"I wish for nothing but\nto release this poor damsel from the claws of yon dragon, to take her\naway from this tower, to lay it all in ruins, and to carry this\nbeautiful lady home with me as my wife.\"\n\n\"Hush!\" answered the Falcon, \"for the bean springs up where you least\nexpect it. We'll soon make him dance upon a sixpence, and take good\ncare that he shall have little ground enough.\"\n\n\"Let us lose no time,\" said the Stag, \"troubles and macaroni are\nswallowed hot.\"\n\nSo the Falcon summoned a large flock of griffins, who, flying to the\nwindow of the tower, carried off the damsel, bearing her over the lake\nto where Tittone was standing with his three brothers-in-law; and if\nfrom afar she appeared a moon, believe me, when near she looked truly\nlike a sun, she was so beautiful.\n\nWhilst Tittone was embracing her and telling her how he loved her, the\ndragon awoke; and, rushing out of the window, he came swimming across\nthe lake to devour Tittone. But the Stag instantly called up a squadron\nof lions, tigers, panthers, bears, and wild-cats, who, falling upon the\ndragon, tore him in pieces with their claws. Then Tittone wishing to\ndepart, the Dolphin said, \"I likewise desire to do something to serve\nyou.\" And in order that no trace should remain of the frightful and\naccursed place, he made the sea rise so high that, overflowing its\nbounds, it attacked the tower furiously, and overthrew it to its\nfoundations.\n\nWhen Tittone saw these things, he thanked the animals in the best\nmanner he could, telling the damsel at the same time that she ought to\ndo so too, as it was by their aid she had escaped from peril. But the\nanimals answered, \"Nay, we ought rather to thank this beauteous lady,\nsince she is the means of restoring us to our proper shapes; for a\nspell was laid upon us at our birth, caused by our mother's having\noffended a fairy, and we were compelled to remain in the form of\nanimals until we should have freed the daughter of a King from some\ngreat trouble. And now behold the time is arrived which we have longed\nfor; the fruit is ripe, and we already feel new spirit in our breasts,\nnew blood in our veins.\" So saying, they were changed into three\nhandsome youths, and one after another they embraced their\nbrother-in-law, and shook hands with the lady, who was in an ecstasy of\njoy.\n\nWhen Tittone saw this, he was on the point of fainting away; and\nheaving a deep sigh, he said, \"O Heavens! why have not my mother and\nfather a share in this happiness? They would be out of their wits with\njoy were they to see such graceful and handsome sons-in-law before\ntheir eyes.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" answered the Princes, \"'tis not yet night; the shame at seeing\nourselves so transformed obliged us to flee from the sight of men; but\nnow that, thank Heaven! we can appear in the world again, we will all\ngo and live with our wives under one roof, and spend our lives merrily.\nLet us, therefore, set out instantly, and before the Sun to-morrow\nmorning unpacks the bales of his rays at the custom-house of the East,\nour wives shall be with you.\"\n\nSo saying, in order that they might not have to go on foot--for there\nwas only an old broken-down mare which Tittone had brought--the\nbrothers caused a most beautiful coach to appear, drawn by six lions,\nin which they all five seated themselves; and having travelled the\nwhole day, they came in the evening to a tavern, where, whilst the\nsupper was being prepared, they passed the time in reading all the\nproofs of men's ignorance which were scribbled upon the walls. At\nlength, when all had eaten their fill and retired to rest, the three\nyouths, feigning to go to bed, went out and walked about the whole\nnight long, till in the morning, when the Stars, like bashful maidens,\nretire from the gaze of the Sun, they found themselves in the same inn\nwith their wives, whereupon there was a great embracing, and a joy\nbeyond the beyonds. Then they all eight seated themselves in the same\ncoach, and after a long journey arrived at Green-Bank, where they were\nreceived with incredible affection by the King and Queen, who had not\nonly regained the capital of four children, whom they had considered\nlost, but likewise the interest of three sons-in-law and a\ndaughter-in-law, who were verily four columns of the Temple of Beauty.\nAnd when the news of the adventures of their children was brought to\nthe Kings of Fair-Meadow and Bright-Valley, they both came to the\nfeasts which were made, adding the rich ingredient of joy to the\nporridge of their satisfaction, and receiving a full recompense for all\ntheir past misfortunes; for--\n\n     \"One hour of joy dispels the cares\n     And sufferings of a thousand years.\"\n\n\n\nXXII\n\nTHE DRAGON\n\nHe who seeks the injury of another finds his own hurt; and he who\nspreads the snares of treachery and deceit often falls into them\nhimself; as you shall hear in the story of a queen, who with her own\nhands constructed the trap in which she was caught by the foot.\n\nThere was one time a King of High-Shore, who practised such tyranny and\ncruelty that, whilst he was once gone on a visit of pleasure to a\ncastle at a distance from the city, his royal seat was usurped by a\ncertain sorceress. Whereupon, having consulted a wooden statue which\nused to give oracular responses, it answered that he would recover his\ndominions when the sorceress should lose her sight. But seeing that the\nsorceress, besides being well guarded, knew at a glance the people whom\nhe sent to annoy her, and did dog's justice upon them, he became quite\ndesperate, and out of spite to her he killed all the women of that\nplace whom he could get into his hands.\n\nNow after hundreds and hundreds had been led thither by their ill-luck,\nonly to lose their lives, there chanced, among others, to come a maiden\nnamed Porziella, the most beautiful creature that could be seen on the\nwhole earth, and the King could not help falling in love with her and\nmaking her his wife. But he was so cruel and spiteful to women that,\nafter a while, he was going to kill her like the rest; but just as he\nwas raising the dagger a bird let fall a certain root upon his arm, and\nhe was seized with such a trembling that the weapon fell from his hand.\nThis bird was a fairy, who, a few days before, having gone to sleep in\na wood, where beneath the tent of the Shades Fear kept watch and defied\nthe Sun's heat, a certain satyr was about to rob her when she was\nawakened by Porziella, and for this kindness she continually followed\nher steps in order to make her a return.\n\nWhen the King saw this, he thought that the beauty of Porziella's face\nhad arrested his arm and bewitched the dagger to prevent its piercing\nher as it had done so many others. He resolved, therefore, not to make\nthe attempt a second time, but that she should die built up in a garret\nof his palace. No sooner said than done: the unhappy creature was\nenclosed within four walls, without having anything to eat or drink,\nand left to waste away and die little by little.\n\nThe bird, seeing her in this wretched state, consoled her with kind\nwords, bidding her be of good cheer, and promising, in return for the\ngreat kindness she had done for her, to aid her if necessary with her\nvery life. In spite, however, of all the entreaties of Porziella, the\nbird would never tell her who she was, but only said that she was under\nobligations to her, and would leave nothing undone to serve her. And\nseeing that the poor girl was famished with hunger, she flew out and\nspeedily returned with a pointed knife which she had taken from the\nking's pantry, and told her to make a hole in the corner of the floor\njust over the kitchen, through which she would regularly bring her food\nto sustain her life. So Porziella bored away until she had made a\npassage for the bird, who, watching till the cook was gone out to fetch\na pitcher of water from the well, went down through the hole, and\ntaking a fine fowl that was cooking at the fire, brought it to\nPorziella; then to relieve her thirst, not knowing how to carry her any\ndrink, she flew to the pantry, where there was a quantity of grapes\nhanging, and brought her a fine bunch; and this she did regularly for\nmany days.\n\nMeanwhile Porziella gave birth to a fine little boy, whom she suckled\nand reared with the constant aid of the bird. And when he was grown\nbig, the fairy advised his mother to make the hole larger, and to raise\nso many boards of the floor as would allow Miuccio (for so the child\nwas called) to pass through; and then, after letting him down with some\ncords which the bird brought, to put the boards back into their place,\nthat it might not be seen where he came from. So Porziella did as the\nbird directed her; and as soon as the cook was gone out, she let down\nher son, desiring him never to tell whence he came nor whose son he was.\n\nWhen the cook returned and saw such a fine little boy, he asked him who\nhe was, whence he came, and what he wanted; whereupon, the child,\nremembering his mother's advice, said that he was a poor forlorn boy\nwho was looking about for a master. As they were talking, the butler\ncame in, and seeing the spritely little fellow, he thought he would\nmake a pretty page for the King. So he led him to the royal apartments;\nand when the King saw him look so handsome and lovely that he appeared\na very jewel, he was vastly pleased with him, and took him into his\nservice as a page and to his heart as a son, and had him taught all the\nexercises befitting a cavalier, so that Miuccio grew up the most\naccomplished one in the court, and the King loved him much better than\nhis stepson. Now the King's stepmother, who was really the queen, on\nthis account began to take a dislike to him, and to hold him in\naversion; and her envy and malice gained ground just in proportion as\nthe favours and kindness which the King bestowed on Miuccio cleared the\nway for them; so she resolved to soap the ladder of his fortune in\norder that he should tumble down from top to bottom.\n\nAccordingly one evening, when the King and his stepmother had tuned\ntheir instruments together and were making music of their discourse,\nthe Queen told the King that Miuccio had boasted he would build three\ncastles in the air. So the next morning, at the time when the Moon, the\nschool-mistress of the Shades, gives a holiday to her scholars for the\nfestival of the Sun, the King, either from surprise or to gratify the\nold Queen, ordered Miuccio to be called, and commanded him forthwith to\nbuild the three castles in the air as he had promised, or else he would\nmake him dance a jig in the air.\n\nWhen Miuccio heard this he went to his chamber and began to lament\nbitterly, seeing what glass the favour of princes is, and how short a\ntime it lasts. And while he was weeping thus, lo! the bird came, and\nsaid to him, \"Take heart, Miuccio, and fear not while you have me by\nyour side, for I am able to draw you out of the fire.\" Then she\ndirected him to take pasteboard and glue and make three large castles;\nand calling up three large griffins, she tied a castle to each, and\naway they flew up into the air. Thereupon Miuccio called the King, who\ncame running with all his court to see the sight; and when he saw the\ningenuity of Miuccio he had a still greater affection for him, and\nlavished on him caresses of the other world, which added snow to the\nenvy of the Queen and fire to her rage, seeing that all her plans\nfailed; insomuch that, both sleeping and waking, she was for ever\nthinking of some way to remove this thorn from her eyes. So at last,\nafter some days, she said to the King, \"Son, the time is now come for\nus to return to our former greatness and the pleasures of past times,\nsince Miuccio has offered to blind the sorceress, and by the\ndisbursement of her eyes to make you recover your lost kingdom.\"\n\nThe King, who felt himself touched in the sore place, called for\nMiuccio that very instant, and said to him, \"I am greatly surprised\nthat, notwithstanding all my love for you, and that you have the power\nto restore me to the seat from which I have fallen, you remain thus\ncareless, instead of endeavouring to relieve me from the misery I am\nin--reduced thus from a kingdom to a wood, from a city to a paltry\ncastle, and from commanding so great a people to be hardly waited on by\na parcel of half-starved menials. If, therefore, you do not wish me\nill, run now at once and blind the eyes of the fairy who has possession\nof my property, for by putting out her lanterns you will light the\nlamps of my honour that are now dark and dismal.\"\n\nWhen Miuccio heard this proposal he was about to reply that the King\nwas ill-informed and had mistaken him, as he was neither a raven to\npick out eyes nor an auger to bore holes; but the King said, \"No more\nwords--so I will have it, so let it be done! Remember now, that in the\nmint of this brain of mine I have the balance ready; in one scale the\nreward, if you do what I tell you; in the other the punishment, if you\nneglect doing what I command.\"\n\nMiuccio, who could not butt against a rock, and had to do with a man\nwho was not to be moved, went into a corner to bemoan himself; and the\nbird came to him and said, \"Is it possible, Miuccio, that you will\nalways be drowning yourself in a tumbler of water? If I were dead\nindeed you could not make more fuss. Do you not know that I have more\nregard for your life than for my own? Therefore don't lose courage;\ncome with me, and you shall see what I can do.\" So saying off she flew,\nand alighted in the wood, where as soon as she began to chirp, there\ncame a large flock of birds about her, to whom she told the story,\nassuring them that whoever would venture to deprive the sorceress of\nsight should have from her a safeguard against the talons of the hawks\nand kites, and a letter of protection against the guns, crossbows,\nlongbows, and bird-lime of the fowlers.\n\nThere was among them a swallow who had made her nest against a beam of\nthe royal palace, and who hated the sorceress, because, when making her\naccursed conjurations, she had several times driven her out of the\nchamber with her fumigations; for which reason, partly out of a desire\nof revenge, and partly to gain the reward that the bird promised, she\noffered herself to perform the service. So away she flew like lightning\nto the city, and entering the palace, found the fairy lying on a couch,\nwith two damsels fanning her. Then the swallow came, and alighting\ndirectly over the fairy, pecked out her eyes. Whereupon the fairy, thus\nseeing night at midday, knew that by this closing of the custom-house\nthe merchandise of the kingdom was all lost; and uttering yells, as of\na condemned soul, she abandoned the sceptre and went off to hide\nherself in a certain cave, where she knocked her head continually\nagainst the wall, until at length she ended her days.\n\nWhen the sorceress was gone, the councillors sent ambassadors to the\nKing, praying him to come back to his castle, since the blinding of the\nsorceress had caused him to see this happy day. And at the same time\nthey arrived came also Miuccio, who, by the bird's direction, said to\nthe King, \"I have served you to the best of my power; the sorceress is\nblinded, the kingdom is yours. Wherefore, if I deserve recompense for\nthis service, I wish for no other than to be left to my ill-fortune,\nwithout being again exposed to these dangers.\"\n\nBut the King, embracing him with great affection, bade him put on his\ncap and sit beside him; and how the Queen was enraged at this, Heaven\nknows, for by the bow of many colours that appeared in her face might\nbe known the wind of the storm that was brewing in her heart against\npoor Miuccio.\n\nNot far from this castle lived a most ferocious dragon, who was born\nthe same hour with the Queen; and the astrologers being called by her\nfather to astrologise on this event, said that his daughter would be\nsafe as long as the dragon was safe, and that when one died, the other\nwould of necessity die also. One thing alone could bring back the Queen\nto life, and that was to anoint her temples, chest, nostrils, and pulse\nwith the blood of the same dragon.\n\nNow the Queen, knowing the strength and fury of this animal, resolved\nto send Miuccio into his claws, well assured that the beast would make\nbut a mouthful of him, and that he would be like a strawberry in the\nthroat of a bear. So turning to the King, she said, \"Upon my word, this\nMiuccio is the treasure of your house, and you would be ungrateful\nindeed if you did not love him, especially as he had expressed his\ndesire to kill the dragon, who, though he is my brother, is\nnevertheless your enemy; and I care more for a hair of your head than\nfor a hundred brothers.\"\n\nThe King, who hated the dragon mortally, and knew not how to remove him\nout of his sight, instantly called Miuccio, and said to him, \"I know\nthat you can put your hand to whatever you will; therefore, as you have\ndone so much, grant me yet another pleasure, and then turn me\nwhithersoever you will. Go this very instant and kill the dragon; for\nyou will do me a singular service, and I will reward you well for it.\"\n\nMiuccio at these words was near losing his senses, and as soon as he\nwas able to speak, he said to the King, \"Alas, what a headache have you\ngiven me by your continual teasing! Is my life a black goat-skin rug\nthat you are for ever wearing it away thus? This is not a pared pear\nready to drop into one's mouth, but a dragon, that tears with his\nclaws, breaks to pieces with his head, crushes with his tail, crunches\nwith his teeth, poisons with his eyes, and kills with his breath.\nWherefore do you want to send me to death? Is this the sinecure you\ngive me for having given you a kingdom? Who is the wicked soul that has\nset this die on the table? What son of perdition has taught you these\ncapers and put these words into your mouth?\" Then the King, who,\nalthough he let himself be tossed to and fro as light as a ball, was\nfirmer than a rock in keeping to what he had once said, stamped with\nhis feet, and exclaimed, \"After all you have done, do you fail at the\nlast? But no more words; go, rid my kingdom of this plague, unless you\nwould have me rid you of life.\"\n\nPoor Miuccio, who thus received one minute a favour, at another a\nthreat, now a pat on the face, and now a kick, now a kind word, now a\ncruel one, reflected how mutable court fortune is, and would fain have\nbeen without the acquaintance of the King. But knowing that to reply to\ngreat men is a folly, and like plucking a lion by the beard, he\nwithdrew, cursing his fate, which had led him to the court only to\ncurtail the days of his life. And as he was sitting on one of the\ndoor-steps, with his head between his knees, washing his shoes with his\ntears and warming the ground with his sighs, behold the bird came\nflying with a plant in her beak, and throwing it to him, said, \"Get up,\nMiuccio, and take courage! for you are not going to play at  unload the\nass' with your days, but at backgammon with the life of the dragon.\nTake this plant, and when you come to the cave of that horrid animal,\nthrow it in, and instantly such a drowsiness will come over him that he\nwill fall fast asleep; whereupon, nicking and sticking him with a good\nknife, you may soon make an end of him. Then come away, for things will\nturn out better than you think.\"\n\n\"Enough!\" cried Miuccio, \"I know what I carry under my belt; we have\nmore time than money, and he who has time has life.\" So saying, he got\nup, and sticking a pruning-knife in his belt and taking the plant, he\nwent his way to the dragon's cave, which was under a mountain of such\ngoodly growth, that the three mountains that were steps to the Giants\nwould not have reached up to its waist. When he came there, he threw\nthe plant into the cave, and instantly a deep sleep laid hold on the\ndragon, and Miuccio began to cut him in pieces.\n\nNow just at the time that he was busied thus, the Queen felt a cutting\npain at her heart; and seeing herself brought to a bad pass, she\nperceived her error in having purchased death with ready money. So she\ncalled her stepson and told him what the astrologers had predicted--how\nher life depended on that of the dragon, and how she feared that\nMiuccio had killed him, for she felt herself gradually sliding away.\nThen the King replied, \"If you knew that the life of the dragon was the\nprop of your life and the root of your days, why did you make me send\nMiuccio? Who is in fault? You must have done yourself the mischief, and\nyou must suffer for it; you have broken the glass, and you may pay the\ncost.\" And the Queen answered, \"I never thought that such a stripling\ncould have the skill and strength to overthrow an animal which made\nnothing of an army, and I expected that he would have left his rags\nthere. But since I reckoned without my host, and the bark of my\nprojects is gone out of its course, do me one kindness if you love me.\nWhen I am dead, take a sponge dipped in the blood of this dragon and\nanoint with it all the extremities of my body before you bury me.\"\n\n\"That is but a small thing for the love I bear you,\" replied the King;\n\"and if the blood of the dragon is not enough, I will add my own to\ngive you satisfaction.\" The Queen was about to thank him, but the\nbreath left her with the speech; for just then Miuccio had made an end\nof scoring the dragon.\n\nNo sooner had Miuccio come into the King's presence with the news of\nwhat he had done than the King ordered him to go back for the dragon's\nblood; but being curious to see the deed done by Miuccio's hand, he\nfollowed him. And as Miuccio was going out of the palace gate, the bird\nmet him, and said, \"Whither are you going?\" and Miuccio answered, \"I am\ngoing whither the King sends me; he makes me fly backwards and forwards\nlike a shuttle, and never lets me rest an hour.\" \"What to do?\" said the\nbird. \"To fetch the blood of the dragon,\" said Miuccio. And the bird\nreplied, \"Ah, wretched youth! this dragon's blood will be bull's blood\nto you, and make you burst; for this blood will cause to spring up\nagain the evil seed of all your misfortunes. The Queen is continually\nexposing you to new dangers that you may lose your life; and the King,\nwho lets this odious creature put the pack-saddle on him, orders you,\nlike a castaway, to endanger your person, which is his own flesh and\nblood and a shoot of his stem. But the wretched man does not know you,\nthough the inborn affection he bears you should have betrayed your\nkindred. Moreover, the services you have rendered the King, and the\ngain to himself of so handsome a son and heir, ought to obtain favour\nfor unhappy Porziella, your mother, who has now for fourteen years been\nburied alive in a garret, where is seen a temple of beauty built up\nwithin a little chamber.\"\n\nWhile the fairy was thus speaking, the King, who had heard every word,\nstepped forward to learn the truth of the matter better; and finding\nthat Miuccio was his own and Porziella's son, and that Porziella was\nstill alive in the garret, he instantly gave orders that she should be\nset free and brought before him. And when he saw her looking more\nbeautiful than ever, owing to the care taken of her by the bird, he\nembraced her with the greatest affection, and was never satisfied with\npressing to his heart first the mother and then the son, praying\nforgiveness of Porziella for his ill-treatment of her, and of his son\nfor all the dangers to which he had exposed him. Then he ordered her to\nbe clothed in the richest robes, and had her crowned Queen before all\nthe people. And when the King heard that her preservation, and the\nescape of his son from so many dangers were entirely owing to the bird,\nwhich had given food to the one and counsel to the other, he offered\nher his kingdom and his life. But the bird said she desired no other\nreward for her services than to have Miuccio for a husband; and as she\nuttered the words she was changed into a beautiful maiden, and, to the\ngreat joy and satisfaction of the King and Porziella, she was given to\nMiuccio to wife. Then the newly-married couple, to give still greater\nfestivals, went their way to their own kingdom, where they were\nanxiously expected, every one ascribing this good fortune to the fairy,\nfor the kindness that Porziella had done her; for at the end of the\nend--\n\n     \"A good deed is never lost.\"\n\n\n\nXXIII\n\nTHE TWO CAKES\n\nI have always heard say, that he who gives pleasure finds it: the bell\nof Manfredonia says, \"Give me, I give thee\": he who does not bait the\nhook of the affections with courtesy never catches the fish of\nkindness; and if you wish to hear the proof of this, listen to my\nstory, and then say whether the covetous man does not always lose more\nthan the liberal one.\n\nThere were once two sisters, named Luceta and Troccola, who had two\ndaughters, Marziella and Puccia. Marziella was as fair to look upon as\nshe was good at heart; whilst, on the contrary, Puccia by the same rule\nhad a face of ugliness and a heart of pestilence, but the girl\nresembled her parent, for Troccola was a harpy within and a very\nscare-crow without.\n\nNow it happened that Luceta had occasion to boil some parsnips, in\norder to fry them with green sauce; so she said to her daughter,\n\"Marziella, my dear, go to the well and fetch me a pitcher of water.\"\n\n\"With all my heart, mother,\" replied the girl, \"but if you love me give\nme a cake, for I should like to eat it with a draught of the fresh\nwater.\"\n\n\"By all means,\" said the mother; so she took from a basket that hung\nupon a hook a beautiful cake (for she had baked a batch the day\nbefore), and gave it to Marziella, who set the pitcher on a pad upon\nher head, and went to the fountain, which like a charlatan upon a\nmarble bench, to the music of the falling water, was selling secrets to\ndrive away thirst. And as she was stooping down to fill her pitcher, up\ncame a hump-backed old woman, and seeing the beautiful cake, which\nMarziella was just going to bite, she said to her, \"My pretty girl,\ngive me a little piece of your cake, and may Heaven send you good\nfortune!\"\n\nMarziella, who was as generous as a queen, replied, \"Take it all, my\ngood woman, and I am only sorry that it is not made of sugar and\nalmonds, for I would equally give it you with all my heart.\"\n\nThe old woman, seeing Marziella's kindness, said to her, \"Go, and may\nHeaven reward you for the goodness you have shown me! and I pray all\nthe stars that you may ever be content and happy; that when you breathe\nroses and jessamines may fall from your mouth; that when you comb your\nlocks pearls and garnets may fall from them, and when you set your foot\non the ground lilies and violets may spring up.\"\n\nMarziella thanked the old woman, and went her way home, where her\nmother, having cooked a bit of supper, they paid the natural debt to\nthe body, and thus ended the day. And the next morning, when the Sun\ndisplayed in the market-place of the celestial fields the merchandise\nof light which he had brought from the East, as Marziella was combing\nher hair, she saw a shower of pearls and garnets fall from it into her\nlap; whereupon calling her mother with great joy, they put them all\ninto a basket, and Luceta went to sell a great part of them to a\nusurer, who was a friend of hers. Meanwhile Troccola came to see her\nsister, and finding Marziella in great delight and busied with the\npearls, she asked her how, when, and where she had gotten them. But the\nmaiden, who did not understand the ways of the world, and had perhaps\nnever heard the proverb, \"Do not all you are able, eat not all you\nwish, spend not all you have, and tell not all you know,\" related the\nwhole affair to her aunt, who no longer cared to await her sister's\nreturn, for every hour seemed to her a thousand years until she got\nhome again. Then giving a cake to her daughter, she sent her for water\nto the fountain, where Puccia found the same old woman. And when the\nold woman asked her for a little piece of cake she answered gruffly,\n\"Have I nothing to do, forsooth, but to give you cake? Do you take me\nto be so foolish as to give you what belongs to me? Look ye, charity\nbegins at home.\" And so saying she swallowed the cake in four pieces,\nmaking the old woman's mouth water, who when she saw the last morsel\ndisappear and her hopes buried with the cake, exclaimed in a rage,\n\"Begone! and whenever you breathe may you foam at the mouth like a\ndoctor's mule, may toads drop from your lips, and every time you set\nfoot to the ground may there spring up ferns and thistles!\"\n\nPuccia took the pitcher of water and returned home, where her mother\nwas all impatience to hear what had befallen her at the fountain. But\nno sooner did Puccia open her lips, than a shower of toads fell from\nthem, at the sight of which her mother added the fire of rage to the\nsnow of envy, sending forth flame and smoke through nose and mouth.\n\nNow it happened some time afterwards that Ciommo, the brother of\nMarziella, was at the court of the King of Chiunzo; and the\nconversation turning on the beauty of various women, he stepped\nforward, unasked, and said that all the handsome women might hide their\nheads when his sister made her appearance, who beside the beauty of her\nform, which made harmony on the song of a noble soul, possessed also a\nwonderful virtue in her hair, mouth, and feet, which was given to her\nby a fairy. When the King heard these praises he told Ciommo to bring\nhis sister to the court; adding that, if he found her such as he had\nrepresented, he would take her to wife.\n\nNow Ciommo thought this a chance not to be lost; so he forthwith sent a\nmessenger post-haste to his mother, telling her what had happened, and\nbegging her to come instantly with her daughter, in order not to let\nslip the good luck. But Luceta, who was very unwell, commending the\nlamb to the wolf, begged her sister to have the kindness to accompany\nMarziella to the court of Chiunzo for such and such a thing. Whereupon\nTroccola, who saw that matters were playing into her hand, promised her\nsister to take Marziella safe and sound to her brother, and then\nembarked with her niece and Puccia in a boat. But when they were some\nway out at sea, whilst the sailors were asleep, she threw Marziella\ninto the water; and just as the poor girl was on the point of being\ndrowned there came a most beautiful syren, who took her in her arms and\ncarried her off.\n\nWhen Troccola arrived at Chiunzo, Ciommo, who had not seen his sister\nfor so long a time, mistook Puccia, and received her as if she were\nMarziella, and led her instantly to the King. But no sooner did she\nopen her lips than toads dropped on the ground; and when the King\nlooked at her more closely he saw, that as she breathed hard from the\nfatigue of the journey, she made a lather at her mouth, which looked\njust like a washtub; then looking down on the ground, he saw a meadow\nof stinking plants, the sight of which made him quite ill. Upon this he\ndrove Puccia and her mother away, and sent Ciommo in disgrace to keep\nthe geese of the court.\n\nThen Ciommo, in despair and not knowing what had happened to him, drove\nthe geese into the fields, and letting them go their way along the\nseashore, he used to retire into a little straw shed, where he bewailed\nhis lot until evening, when it was time to return home. But whilst the\ngeese were running about on the shore, Marziella would come out of the\nwater, and feed them with sweetmeats, and give them rose-water to\ndrink; so that the geese grew as big as sheep, and were so fat that\nthey could not see out of their eyes. And in the evening when they came\ninto a little garden under the King's window, they began to sing--\n\n     \"Pire, pire pire!\n     The sun and the moon are bright and clear,\n     But she who feeds us is still more fair.\"\n\nNow the King, hearing this goose-music every evening, ordered Ciommo to\nbe called, and asked him where, and how, and upon what he fed his\ngeese. And Ciommo replied, \"I give them nothing to eat but the fresh\ngrass of the field.\" But the King, who was not satisfied with this\nanswer, sent a trusty servant after Ciommo to watch and observe where\nhe drove the geese. Then the man followed in his footsteps, and saw him\ngo into the little straw shed, leaving the geese to themselves; and\ngoing their way they had no sooner come to the shore than Marziella\nrose up out of the sea; and I do not believe that even the mother of\nthat blind boy who, as the poet says, \"desires no other alms than\ntears,\" ever rose from the waves so fair. When the servant of the King\nsaw this, he ran back to his master, beside himself with amazement, and\ntold him the pretty spectacle he had seen upon the seashore.\n\nThe curiosity of the King was increased by what the man told him, and\nhe had a great desire to go himself and see the beautiful sight. So the\nnext morning, when the Cock, the ringleader of the birds, excited them\nall to arm mankind against the Night, and Ciommo went with the geese to\nthe accustomed spot, the King followed him closely; and when the geese\ncame to the seashore, without Ciommo, who remained as usual in the\nlittle shed, the King saw Marziella rise out of the water. And after\ngiving the geese a trayful of sweetmeats to eat and a cupful of\nrose-water to drink, she seated herself on a rock and began to comb her\nlocks, from which fell handfuls of pearls and garnets; at the same time\na cloud of flowers dropped from her mouth, and under her feet was a\nSyrian carpet of lilies and violets.\n\nWhen the King saw this sight, he ordered Ciommo to be called, and,\npointing to Marziella, asked him whether he knew that beautiful maiden.\nThen Ciommo, recognising his sister, ran to embrace her, and in the\npresence of the King heard from her all the treacherous conduct of\nTroccola, and how the envy of that wicked creature had brought that\nfair fire of love to dwell in the waters of the sea.\n\nThe joy of the King is not to be told at the acquisition of so fair a\njewel; and turning to the brother he said that he had good reason to\npraise Marziella so much, and indeed that he found her three times more\nbeautiful than he had described her; he deemed her, therefore, more\nthan worthy to be his wife if she would be content to receive the\nsceptre of his kingdom.\n\n\"Alas, would to Heaven it could be so!\" answered Marziella, \"and that I\ncould serve you as the slave of your crown! But see you not this golden\nchain upon my foot, by which the sorceress holds me prisoner? When I\ntake too much fresh air, and tarry too long on the shore, she draws me\ninto the waves, and thus keeps me held in rich slavery by a golden\nchain.\"\n\n\"What way is there,\" said the King, \"to free you from the claws of this\nsyren?\"\n\n\"The way,\" replied Marziella, \"would be to cut this chain with a smooth\nfile, and to loose me from it.\"\n\n\"Wait till to-morrow morning,\" answered the King; \"I will then come\nwith all that is needful, and take you home with me, where you shall be\nthe pupil of my eye, the core of my heart, and the life of my soul.\"\nAnd then exchanging a shake of the hands as the earnest-money of their\nlove, she went back into the water and he into the fire--and into such\na fire indeed that he had not an hour's rest the whole day long. And\nwhen the black old hag of the Night came forth to have a country-dance\nwith the Stars, he never closed an eye, but lay ruminating in his\nmemory over the beauties of Marziella, discoursing in thought of the\nmarvels of her hair, the miracles of her mouth, and the wonders of her\nfeet; and applying the gold of her graces to the touchstone of\njudgment, he found that it was four-and-twenty carats fine. But he\nupbraided the Night for not leaving off her embroidery of the Stars,\nand chided the Sun for not arriving with the chariot of light to enrich\nhis house with the treasure he longed for--a mine of gold which\nproduced pearls, a pearl-shell from which sprang flowers.\n\nBut whilst he was thus at sea, thinking of her who was all the while in\nthe sea, behold the pioneers of the Sun appeared, who smooth the road\nalong which he has to pass with the army of his rays. Then the King\ndressed himself, and went with Ciommo to the seashore, where he found\nMarziella; and the King with his own hand cut the chain from the foot\nof the beloved object with the file which they had brought, but all the\nwhile he forged a still stronger one for his heart; and setting her on\nthe saddle behind him, she who was already fixed on the saddle of his\nheart, he set out for the royal palace, where by his command all the\nhandsome ladies of the land were assembled, who received Marziella as\ntheir mistress with all due honour. Then the King married her, and\nthere were great festivities; and among all the casks which were burnt\nfor the illuminations, the King ordered that Troccola should be shut up\nin a tub, and made to suffer for the treachery she had shown to\nMarziella. Then sending for Luceta, he gave her and Ciommo enough to\nlive upon like princes; whilst Puccia, driven out of the kingdom,\nwandered about as a beggar; and, as the reward of her not having sown a\nlittle bit of cake, she had now to suffer a constant want of bread; for\nit is the will of Heaven that--\n\n     \"He who shows no pity finds none.\"\n\n\n\nXXIV\n\nTHE SEVEN DOVES\n\nHe who gives pleasure meets with it: kindness is the bond of friendship\nand the hook of love: he who sows not reaps not; of which truth Ciulla\nhas given you the foretaste of example, and I will give you the\ndessert, if you will bear in mind what Cato says, \"Speak little at\ntable.\" Therefore have the kindness to lend me your ears awhile; and\nmay Heaven cause them to stretch continually, to listen to pleasant and\namusing things.\n\nThere was once in the county of Arzano a good woman who every year gave\nbirth to a son, until at length there were seven of them, who looked\nlike the pipes of the god Pan, with seven reeds, one larger than\nanother. And when they had changed their first teeth, they said to\nJannetella their mother, \"Hark ye, mother, if, after so many sons, you\ndo not this time have a daughter, we are resolved to leave home, and go\nwandering through the world like the sons of the blackbirds.\"\n\nWhen their mother heard this sad announcement, she prayed Heaven to\nremove such an intention from her sons, and prevent her losing seven\nsuch jewels as they were. And when the hour of the birth was at hand,\nthe sons said to Jannetella, \"We will retire to the top of yonder hill\nor rock opposite; if you give birth to a son, put an inkstand and a pen\nup at the window; but if you have a little girl, put up a spoon and a\ndistaff. For if we see the signal of a daughter, we shall return home\nand spend the rest of our lives under your wings; but if we see the\nsignal of a son, then forget us, for you may know that we have taken\nourselves off.\"\n\nSoon after the sons had departed it pleased Heaven that Jannetella\nshould bring forth a pretty little daughter; then she told the nurse to\nmake the signal to the brothers, but the woman was so stupid and\nconfused that she put up the inkstand and the pen. As soon as the seven\nbrothers saw this signal, they set off, and walked on and on, until at\nthe end of three years they came to a wood, where the trees were\nperforming the sword-dance to the sound of a river which made music\nupon the stones. In this wood was the house of an ogre whose eyes\nhaving been blinded whilst asleep by a woman, he was such an enemy to\nthe sex that he devoured all whom he could catch.\n\nWhen the youths arrived at the ogre's house, tired out with walking and\nexhausted with hunger, they begged him for pity's sake to give them a\nmorsel of bread. And the ogre replied that if they would serve him he\nwould give them food, and they would have nothing else to do but to\nwatch over him like a dog, each in turn for a day. The youths, upon\nhearing this, thought they had found father and mother; so they\nconsented, and remained in the service of the ogre, who, having gotten\ntheir names by heart, called once for Giangrazio, at another time for\nCecchitiello, now for Pascale, now Nuccio, now Pone, now Pezzillo, and\nnow Carcavecchia, for so the brothers were named; and giving them a\nroom in the lower part of the house, he allowed them enough to live\nupon.\n\nMeanwhile their sister had grown up; and hearing that her seven\nbrothers, owing to the stupidity of the nurse, had set out to walk\nthrough the world, and that no tidings of them had ever been received,\nshe took it into her head to go in search of them. And she begged and\nprayed her mother so long, that at last, overcome by her entreaties,\nshe gave her leave to go, and dressed her like a pilgrim. Then the\nmaiden walked and walked, asking at every place she came to whether any\none had seen seven brothers. And thus she journeyed on, until at length\nshe got news of them at an inn, where having enquired the way to the\nwood, one morning, at the hour when the Sun with the penknife of his\nrays scratches out the inkspots made by Night upon the sheet of Heaven,\nshe arrived at the ogre's house, where she was recognised by her\nbrothers with great joy, who cursed the inkstand and the pen for\nwriting falsely such misfortune for them. Then giving her a thousand\ncaresses, they told her to remain quiet in their chamber, that the ogre\nmight not see her; bidding her at the same time give a portion of\nwhatever she had to eat to a cat which was in the room, or otherwise\nshe would do her some harm. Cianna (for so the sister was named) wrote\ndown this advice in the pocket-book of her heart, and shared everything\nwith the cat, like a good companion, always cutting justly, and saying,\n\"This for me--this for thee,--this for the daughter of the king,\"\ngiving the cat a share to the last morsel.\n\nNow it happened one day that the brothers, going to hunt for the ogre,\nleft Cianna a little basket of chick-peas to cook; and as she was\npicking them, by ill-luck she found among them a hazel-nut, which was\nthe stone of disturbance to her quiet; for having swallowed it without\ngiving half to the cat, the latter out of spite jumped on the table and\nblew out the candle. Cianna seeing this, and not knowing what to do,\nleft the room, contrary to the command of her brothers, and going into\nthe ogre's chamber begged him for a little light. Then the ogre,\nhearing a woman's voice, said, \"Welcome, madam! wait awhile,--you have\nfound what you are seeking.\" And so saying he took a Genoa stone, and\ndaubing it with oil he fell to whetting his tusks. But Cianna, who saw\nthe cart on a wrong track, seizing a lighted stick ran to her chamber;\nand bolting the door inside, she placed against it bars, stools,\nbedsteads, tables, stones, and everything there was in the room.\n\nAs soon as the ogre had put an edge on his teeth he ran to the chamber\nof the brothers, and finding the door fastened, he fell to kicking it\nto break it open. At this noise and disturbance the seven brothers at\nonce came home, and hearing themselves accused by the ogre of treachery\nfor making their chamber a refuge for one of his women enemies,\nGiangrazio, who was the eldest and had more sense than the others, and\nsaw matters going badly, said to the ogre, \"We know nothing of this\naffair, and it may be that this wicked woman has perchance come into\nthe room whilst we were at the chase; but as she has fortified herself\ninside, come with me and I will take you to a place where we can seize\nher without her being able to defend herself.\"\n\nThen they took the ogre by the hand, and led him to a deep, deep pit,\nwhere, giving him a push, they sent him headlong to the bottom; and\ntaking a shovel, which they found on the ground, they covered him with\nearth. Then they bade their sister unfasten the door, and they rated\nher soundly for the fault she had committed, and the danger in which\nshe had placed herself; telling her to be more careful in future, and\nto beware of plucking grass upon the spot where the ogre was buried, or\nthey would be turned into seven doves.\n\n\"Heaven keep me from bringing such a misfortune upon you!\" replied\nCianna. So taking possession of all the ogre's goods and chattels, and\nmaking themselves masters of the whole house, they lived there merrily\nenough, waiting until winter should pass away, and the Sun, on taking\npossession of the house of the Bull, give a present to the Earth of a\ngreen gown embroidered with flowers, when they might set out on their\njourney home.\n\nNow it happened one day, when the brothers were gone to the mountains\nto get firewood to defend themselves against the cold, which increased\nfrom day to day, that a poor pilgrim came to the ogre's wood, and made\nfaces at an ape that was perched up in a pine-tree; whereupon the ape\nthrew down one of the fir-apples from the tree upon the man's pate,\nwhich made such a terrible bump that the poor fellow set up a loud cry.\nCianna hearing the noise went out, and taking pity on his disaster, she\nquickly plucked a sprig of rosemary from a tuft which grew upon the\nogre's grave; then she made him a plaster of it with boiled bread and\nsalt, and after giving the man some breakfast she sent him away.\n\nWhilst Cianna was laying the cloth, and expecting her brothers, lo! she\nsaw seven doves come flying, who said to her, \"Ah! better that your\nhand had been cut off, you cause of all our misfortune, ere it plucked\nthat accursed rosemary and brought such a calamity upon us! Have you\neaten the brains of a cat, O sister, that you have driven our advice\nfrom your mind? Behold us, turned to birds, a prey to the talons of\nkites, hawks, and falcons! Behold us made companions of water-hens,\nsnipes, goldfinches, woodpeckers, jays, owls, magpies, jackdaws, rooks,\nstarlings, woodcocks, cocks, hens and chickens, turkey-cocks,\nblackbirds, thrushes, chaffinches, tomtits, jenny-wrens, lapwings,\nlinnets, greenfinches, crossbills, flycatchers, larks, plovers,\nkingfishers, wagtails, redbreasts, redfinches, sparrows, ducks,\nfieldfares, woodpigeons and bullfinches! A rare thing you have done!\nAnd now we may return to our country to find nets laid and twigs limed\nfor us! To heal the head of a pilgrim, you have broken the heads of\nseven brothers; nor is there any help for our misfortune, unless you\nfind the Mother of Time, who will tell you the way to get us out of\ntrouble.\"\n\nCianna, looking like a plucked quail at the fault she had committed,\nbegged pardon of her brothers, and offered to go round the world until\nshe should find the dwelling of the old woman. Then praying them not to\nstir from the house until she returned, lest any ill should betide\nthem, she set out, and journeyed on and on without ever tiring; and\nthough she went on foot, her desire to aid her brothers served her as a\nsumpter-mule, with which she made three miles an hour. At last she came\nto the seashore, where with the blows of the waves the sea was banging\nthe rocks which would not repeat the Latin it gave them to do. Here she\nsaw a huge whale, who said to her, \"My pretty maiden, what go you\nseeking?\" And she replied, \"I am seeking the dwelling of the Mother of\nTime.\" \"Hear then what you must do,\" replied the whale; \"go straight\nalong this shore, and on coming to the first river, follow it up to its\nsource, and you will meet with some one who will show you the way: but\ndo me one kindness,--when you find the good old woman, beg of her the\nfavour to tell me some means by which I may swim about safely, without\nso often knocking upon the rocks and being thrown on the sands.\"\n\n\"Trust to me,\" said Cianna, then thanking the whale for pointing out\nthe way, she set off walking along the shore; and after a long journey\nshe came to the river, which like a clerk of the treasury was\ndisbursing silver money into the bank of the sea. Then taking the way\nup to its source, she arrived at a beautiful open country, where the\nmeadow vied with the heaven, displaying her green mantle starred over\nwith flowers; and there she met a mouse who said to her, \"Whither are\nyou going thus alone, my pretty girl?\" And Cianna replied, \"I am\nseeking the Mother of Time.\"\n\n\"You have a long way to go,\" said the mouse; \"but do not lose heart,\neverything has an end. Walk on, therefore, toward yon mountains, which,\nlike the free lords of these fields, assume the title of Highness, and\nyou will soon have more news of what you are seeking. But do me one\nfavour,--when you arrive at the house you wish to find, get the good\nold woman to tell you what you can do to rid us of the tyranny of the\ncats; then command me, and I am your slave.\"\n\nCianna, after promising to do the mouse this kindness, set off towards\nthe mountains, which, although they appeared to be close at hand,\nseemed never to be reached. But having come to them at length, she sat\ndown tired out upon a stone; and there she saw an army of ants,\ncarrying a large store of grain, one of whom turning to Cianna said,\n\"Who art thou, and whither art thou going?\" And Cianna, who was\ncourteous to every one, said to her, \"I am an unhappy girl, who, for a\nmatter that concerns me, am seeking the dwelling of the Mother of Time.\"\n\n\"Go on farther,\" said the ant, \"and where these mountains open into a\nlarge plain you will obtain more news. But do me a great favour,--get\nthe secret from the old woman, what we ants can do to live a little\nlonger; for it seems to me a folly in worldly affairs to be heaping up\nsuch a large store of food for so short a life, which, like an\nauctioneer's candle, goes out just at the best bidding of years.\"\n\n\"Be at ease,\" said Cianna, \"I will return the kindness you have shown\nme.\"\n\nThen she passed the mountains and arrived at a wide plain; and\nproceeding a little way over it, she came to a large oak-tree,--a\nmemorial of antiquity, whose fruit (a mouthful which Time gives to this\nbitter age of its lost sweetness) tasted like sweetmeats to the maiden,\nwho was satisfied with little. Then the oak, making lips of its bark\nand a tongue of its pith, said to Cianna, \"Whither are you going so\nsad, my little daughter? Come and rest under my shade.\" Cianna thanked\nhim much, but excused herself, saying that she was going in haste to\nfind the Mother of Time. And when the oak heard this he replied, \"You\nare not far from her dwelling; for before you have gone another day's\njourney, you will see upon a mountain a house, in which you will find\nher whom you seek. But if you have as much kindness as beauty, I\nprithee learn for me what I can do to regain my lost honour; for\ninstead of being food for great men, I am now only made the food of\nhogs.\"\n\n\"Leave that to me,\" replied Cianna, \"I will take care to serve you.\" So\nsaying, she departed, and walking on and on without ever resting, she\ncame at length to the foot of an impertinent mountain, which was poking\nits head into the face of the clouds. There she found an old man, who,\nwearied and wayworn, had lain down upon some hay; and as soon as he saw\nCianna, he knew her at once, and that it was she who had cured his bump.\n\nWhen the old man heard what she was seeking, he told her that he was\ncarrying to Time the rent for the piece of earth which he had\ncultivated, and that Time was a tyrant who usurped everything in the\nworld, claiming tribute from all, and especially from people of his\nage; and he added that, having received kindness from Cianna, he would\nnow return it a hundredfold by giving her some good information about\nher arrival at the mountain; and that he was sorry he could not\naccompany her thither, since his old age, which was condemned rather to\ngo down than up, obliged him to remain at the foot of those mountains,\nto cast up accounts with the clerks of Time--which are the labours, the\nsufferings, and the infirmities of life--and to pay the debt of Nature.\nSo the old man said to her, \"Now, my pretty, innocent child, listen to\nme. You must know that on the top of this mountain you will find a\nruined house, which was built long ago, time out of mind. The walls are\ncracked, the foundations crumbling away, the doors worm-eaten, the\nfurniture all worn out--and, in short, everything is gone to wrack and\nruin. On one side are seen shattered columns, on another broken\nstatues; and nothing is left in a good state except a coat-of-arms over\nthe door, quartered on which you will see a serpent biting its tail, a\nstag, a raven, and a phoenix. When you enter, you will see on the\nground, files, saws, scythes, sickles, pruning-hooks, and hundreds and\nhundreds of vessels full of ashes, with the names written on them, like\ngallipots in an apothecary's shop; and there may be read Corinth,\nSaguntum, Carthage, Troy, and a thousand other cities, the ashes of\nwhich Time preserved as trophies of his conquests.\n\n\"When you come near the house, hide yourself until Time goes out; and\nas soon as he has gone forth, enter, and you will find an old, old\nwoman, with a beard that touches the ground and a hump reaching to the\nsky. Her hair, like the tail of a dapple-grey horse, covers her heels;\nher face looks like a plaited collar, with the folds stiffened by the\nstarch of years. The old woman is seated upon a clock, which is\nfastened to a wall; and her eyebrows are so large that they overshadow\nher eyes, so that she will not be able to see you. As soon as you\nenter, quickly take the weights off the clock, then call to the old\nwoman, and beg her to answer your questions; whereupon she will\ninstantly call her son to come and eat you up. But the clock upon which\nthe old woman sits having lost its weights, her son cannot move, and\nshe will therefore be obliged to tell you what you wish. But do not\ntrust any oath she may make, unless she swears by the wings of her son,\nand you will be content.\"\n\nSo saying, the poor old man fell down and crumbled away, like a dead\nbody brought from a catacomb to the light of day. Then Cianna took the\nashes, and mixing them with a pint of tears, she made a grave and\nburied them, praying Heaven to grant them quiet and repose. And\nascending the mountain till she was quite out of breath, she waited\nuntil Time came out, who was an old man with a long, long beard, and\nwho wore a very old cloak covered with slips of paper, on which were\nworked the names of various people. He had large wings, and ran so fast\nthat he was out of sight in an instant.\n\nWhen Cianna entered the house of his mother, she started with affright\nat the sight of that black old chip; and instantly seizing the weights\nof the clock, she told what she wanted to the old woman, who, setting\nup a loud cry, called to her son. But Cianna said to her, \"You may butt\nyour head against the wall as long as you like, for you will not see\nyour son whilst I hold these clock-weights.\"\n\nThereupon the old woman, seeing herself foiled, began to coax Cianna,\nsaying, \"Let go of them, my dear, and do not stop my son's course; for\nno man living has ever done that. Let go of them, and may Heaven\npreserve you! for I promise you, by the acid of my son, with which he\ncorrodes everything, that I will do you no harm.\"\n\n\"That's time lost,\" answered Cianna, \"you must say something better if\nyou would have me quit my hold.\"\n\n\"I swear to you by those teeth, which gnaw all mortal things, that I\nwill tell you all you desire.\"\n\n\"That is all nothing,\" answered Cianna, \"for I know you are deceiving\nme.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" said the old woman, \"I swear to you by those wings which\nfly over all that I will give you more pleasure than you imagine.\"\n\nThereupon Cianna, letting go the weights, kissed the old woman's hand,\nwhich had a mouldy feel and a nasty smell. And the old woman, seeing\nthe courtesy of the damsel, said to her, \"Hide yourself behind this\ndoor, and when Time comes home I will make him tell me all you wish to\nknow. And as soon as he goes out again--for he never stays quiet in one\nplace--you can depart. But do not let yourself be heard or seen, for he\nis such a glutton that he does not spare even his own children; and\nwhen all fails, he devours himself and then springs up anew.\"\n\nCianna did as the old woman told her; and, lo! soon after Time came\nflying quick, quick, high and light, and having gnawed whatever came to\nhand, down to the very mouldiness upon the walls, he was about to\ndepart, when his mother told him all she had heard from Cianna,\nbeseeching him by the milk she had given him to answer exactly all her\nquestions. After a thousand entreaties, her son replied, \"To the tree\nmay be answered, that it can never be prized by men so long as it keeps\ntreasures buried under its roots; to the mice, that they will never be\nsafe from the cat unless they tie a bell to her leg to tell them when\nshe is coming; to the ants, that they will live a hundred years if they\ncan dispense with flying--for when the ant is going to die she puts on\nwings; to the whale, that it should be of good cheer, and make friends\nwith the sea-mouse, who will serve him as a guide, so that he will\nnever go wrong; and to the doves, that when they alight on the column\nof wealth, they will return to their former state.\"\n\nSo saying, Time set out to run his accustomed post; and Cianna, taking\nleave of the old woman, descended to the foot of the mountain, just at\nthe very time that the seven doves, who had followed their sister's\nfootsteps, arrived there. Wearied with flying so far, they stopped to\nrest upon the horn of a dead ox; and no sooner had they alighted than\nthey were changed into handsome youths as they were at first. But while\nthey were marvelling at this, they heard the reply which Time had\ngiven, and saw at once that the horn, as the symbol of plenty, was the\ncolumn of wealth of which Time had spoken. Then embracing their sister\nwith great joy, they all set out on the same road by which Cianna had\ncome. And when they came to the oak-tree, and told it what Cianna had\nheard from Time, the tree begged them to take away the treasure from\nits roots, since it was the cause why its acorns had lost their\nreputation. Thereupon the seven brothers, taking a spade which they\nfound in a garden, dug and dug, until they came to a great heap of gold\nmoney, which they divided into eight parts and shared among themselves\nand their sister, so that they might carry it away conveniently. But\nbeing wearied with the journey and the load, they laid themselves down\nto sleep under a hedge. Presently a band of robbers coming by, and\nseeing the poor fellows asleep, with their heads upon the clothfuls of\nmoney, bound them hand and foot to some trees and took away their\nmoney, leaving them to bewail not only their wealth--which had slipped\nthrough their fingers as soon as found--but their life; for being\nwithout hope of succour, they were in peril of either soon dying of\nhunger or allaying the hunger of some wild beast.\n\nAs they were lamenting their unhappy lot, up came the mouse, who, as\nsoon as she heard the reply which Time had given, in return for the\ngood service, nibbled the cords with which they were bound and set them\nfree. And having gone a little way farther, they met on the road the\nant, who, when she heard the advice of Time, asked Cianna what was the\nmatter that she was so pale-faced and cast down. And when Cianna told\nher their misfortune, and the trick which the robbers had played them,\nthe ant replied, \"Be quiet, I can now requite the kindness you have\ndone me. You must know, that whilst I was carrying a load of grain\nunderground, I saw a place where these dogs of assassins hide their\nplunder. They have made some holes under an old building, in which they\nshut up all the things they have stolen. They are just now gone out for\nsome new robbery, and I will go with you and show you the place, so\nthat you may recover your money.\"\n\nSo saying, she took the way towards some tumbled-down houses, and\nshowed the seven brothers the mouth of the pit; whereupon Giangrazio,\nwho was bolder than the rest, entering it, found there all the money of\nwhich they had been robbed. Then taking it with them, they set out, and\nwalked towards the seashore, where they found the whale, and told him\nthe good advice which Time--who is the father of counsel--had given\nthem. And whilst they stood talking of their journey and all that had\nbefallen them, they saw the robbers suddenly appear, armed to the\nteeth, who had followed in their footsteps. At this sight they\nexclaimed, \"Alas, alas! we are now wholly lost, for here come the\nrobbers armed, and they will not leave the skin on our bodies.\"\n\n\"Fear not,\" replied the whale, \"for I can save you out of the fire, and\nwill thus requite the love you have shown me; so get upon my back, and\nI will quickly carry you to a place of safety.\"\n\nCianna and her brothers, seeing the foe at their heels and the water up\nto their throats, climbed upon the whale, who, keeping far off from the\nrocks, carried them to within sight of Naples. But being afraid to land\nthem on account of the shoals and shallows, he said, \"Where would you\nlike me to land you? On the shore of Amalfi?\" And Giangrazio answered,\n\"See whether that cannot be avoided, my dear fish. I do not wish to\nland at any place hereabouts; for at Massa they say barely good-day, at\nSorrento thieves are plenty, at Vico they say you may go your way, at\nCastel-a-mare no one says how are ye.\"\n\nThen the whale, to please them, turned about and went toward the\nSalt-rock, where he left them; and they got put on shore by the first\nfishing-boat that passed. Thereupon they returned to their own country,\nsafe and sound and rich, to the great joy and consolation of their\nmother and father. And, thanks to the goodness of Cianna, they enjoyed\na happy life, verifying the old saying--\n\n    \"Do good whenever you can, and forget it.\"\n\n\n\nXXV\n\nTHE RAVEN\n\nIt is truly a great proverb--\"Rather a crooked sight than a crooked\njudgment\"; but it is so difficult to adopt it that the judgment of few\nmen hits the nail on the head. On the contrary, in the sea of human\naffairs, the greater part are fishers in smooth waters, who catch\ncrabs; and he who thinks to take the most exact measure of the object\nat which he aims often shoots widest of the mark. The consequence of\nthis is that all are running pell-mell, all toiling in the dark, all\nthinking crookedly, all acting child's-play, all judging at random, and\nwith a haphazard blow of a foolish resolution bringing upon themselves\na bitter repentance; as was the case with the King of Shady-Grove; and\nyou shall hear how it fared with him if you summon me within the circle\nof modesty with the bell of courtesy, and give me a little attention.\n\nIt is said that there was once a king of Shady-Grove named Milluccio,\nwho was so devoted to the chase, that he neglected the needful affairs\nof his state and household to follow the track of a hare or the flight\nof a thrush. And he pursued this road so far that chance one day led\nhim to a thicket, which had formed a solid square of earth and trees to\nprevent the horses of the Sun from breaking through. There, upon a most\nbeautiful marble stone, he found a raven, which had just been killed.\n\nThe King, seeing the bright red blood sprinkled upon the white, white\nmarble, heaved a deep sigh and exclaimed, \"O heavens! and cannot I have\na wife as white and red as this stone, and with hair and eyebrows as\nblack as the feathers of this raven?\" And he stood for a while so\nburied in this thought that he became a counterpart to the stone, and\nlooked like a marble image making love to the other marble. And this\nunhappy fancy fixing itself in his head, as he searched for it\neverywhere with the lanthorn of desire, it grew in four seconds from a\npicktooth to a pole, from a crab-apple to an Indian pumpkin, from\nbarber's embers to a glass furnace, and from a dwarf to a giant;\ninsomuch that he thought of nothing else than the image of that object\nencrusted in his heart as stone to stone. Wherever he turned his eyes\nthat form was always presented to him which he carried in his breast;\nand forgetting all besides, he had nothing but that marble in his head;\nin short, he became in a manner so worn away upon the stone that he was\nat last as thin as the edge of a penknife; and this marble was a\nmillstone which crushed his life, a slab of porphyry upon which the\ncolours of his days were ground and mixed, a tinder-box which set fire\nto the brimstone match of his soul, a loadstone which attracted him,\nand lastly, a rolling-stone which could never rest.\n\nAt length his brother Jennariello, seeing him so pale and half-dead,\nsaid to him, \"My brother, what has happened to you, that you carry\ngrief lodged in your eyes, and despair sitting under the pale banner of\nyour face? What has befallen you? Speak--open your heart to your\nbrother: the smell of charcoal shut up in a chamber poisons\npeople--powder pent up in a mountain blows it into the air; open your\nlips, therefore, and tell me what is the matter with you; at all events\nbe assured that I would lay down a thousand lives if I could to help\nyou.\"\n\nThen Milluccio, mingling words and sighs, thanked him for his love,\nsaying that he had no doubt of his affection, but that there was no\nremedy for his ill, since it sprang from a stone, where he had sown\ndesires without hope of fruit--a stone from which he did not expect a\nmushroom of content--a stone of Sisyphus, which he bore to the mountain\nof designs, and when it reached the top rolled over and over to the\nbottom. At length, however, after a thousand entreaties, Milluccio told\nhis brother all about his love; whereupon Jennariello comforted him as\nmuch as he could, and bade him be of good cheer, and not give way to an\nunhappy passion; for that he was resolved, in order to satisfy him, to\ngo all the world over until he found a woman the counterpart of the\nstone.\n\nThen instantly fitting out a large ship, filled with merchandise, and\ndressing himself like a merchant, he sailed for Venice, the wonder of\nItaly, the receptacle of virtuous men, the great book of the marvels of\nart and nature; and having procured there a safe-conduct to pass to the\nLevant, he set sail for Cairo. When he arrived there and entered the\ncity, he saw a man who was carrying a most beautiful falcon, and\nJennariello at once purchased it to take to his brother, who was a\nsportsman. Soon afterwards he met another man with a splendid horse,\nwhich he also bought; whereupon he went to an inn to refresh himself\nafter the fatigues he had suffered at sea.\n\nThe following morning, when the army of the Star, at the command of the\ngeneral of the Light, strikes the tents in the camp of the sky and\nabandons the post, Jennariello set out to wander through the city,\nhaving his eyes about him like a lynx, looking at this woman and that,\nto see whether by chance he could find the likeness to a stone upon a\nface of flesh. And as he was wandering about at random, turning\ncontinually to this side and that, like a thief in fear of the\nconstables, he met a beggar carrying an hospital of plasters and a\nmountain of rags upon his back, who said to him, \"My gallant sir, what\nmakes you so frightened?\"\n\n\"Have I, forsooth, to tell you my affairs?\" answered Jennariello.\n\"Faith I should do well to tell my reason to the constable.\"\n\n\"Softly, my fair youth!\" replied the beggar, \"for the flesh of man is\nnot sold by weight. If Darius had not told his troubles to a groom he\nwould not have become king of Persia. It will be no great matter,\ntherefore, for you to tell your affairs to a poor beggar, for there is\nnot a twig so slender but it may serve for a toothpick.\"\n\nWhen Jennariello heard the poor man talking sensibly and with reason,\nhe told him the cause that had brought him to that country; whereupon\nthe beggar replied, \"See now, my son, how necessary it is to make\naccount of every one; for though I am only a heap of rubbish, yet I\nshall be able to enrich the garden of your hopes. Now listen--under the\npretext of begging alms, I will knock at the door of the young and\nbeautiful daughter of a magician; then open your eyes wide, look at\nher, contemplate her, regard her, measure her from head to foot, for\nyou will find the image of her whom your brother desires.\" So saying,\nhe knocked at the door of a house close by, and Liviella opening it\nthrew him a piece of bread.\n\nAs soon as Jennariello saw her, she seemed to him built after the model\nwhich Milluccio had given him; then he gave a good alms to the beggar\nand sent him away, and going to the inn he dressed himself like a\npedlar, carrying in two caskets all the wealth of the world. And thus\nhe walked up and down before Liviella's house crying his wares, until\nat length she called him, and took a view of the beautiful net-caps,\nhoods, ribands, gauze, edgings, lace, handkerchiefs, collars, needles,\ncups of rouge, and head-gear fit for a queen, which he carried. And\nwhen she had examined all the things again and again, she told him to\nshow her something else; and Jennariello answered, \"My lady, in these\ncaskets I have only cheap and paltry wares; but if you will deign to\ncome to my ship, I will show you things of the other world, for I have\nthere a host of beautiful goods worthy of any great lord.\"\n\nLiviella, who was full of curiosity, not to belie the nature of her\nsex, replied, \"If my father indeed were not out he would have given me\nsome money.\"\n\n\"Nay, you can come all the better if he is out,\" replied Jennariello,\n\"for perhaps he might not allow you the pleasure; and I'll promise to\nshow you such splendid things as will make you rave--such necklaces and\nearrings, such bracelets and sashes, such workmanship in paper--in\nshort I will perfectly astound you.\"\n\nWhen Liviella heard all this display of finery she called a gossip of\nhers to accompany her, and went to the ship. But no sooner had she\nembarked than Jennariello, whilst keeping her enchanted with the sight\nof all the beautiful things he had brought, craftily ordered the anchor\nto be weighed and the sails to be set, so that before Liviella raised\nher eyes from the wares and saw that she had left the land, they had\nalready gone many miles. When at length she perceived the trick, she\nbegan to act Olympia the reverse way; for whereas Olympia bewailed\nbeing left upon a rock, Liviella lamented leaving the rocks. But when\nJennariello told her who he was, whither he was carrying her, and the\ngood fortune that awaited her, and pictured to her, moreover,\nMilluccio's beauty, his valour, his virtues, and lastly the love with\nwhich he would receive her, he succeeded in pacifying her, and she even\nprayed the wind to bear her quickly to see the colouring of the design\nwhich Jennariello had drawn.\n\nAs they were sailing merrily along they heard the waves grumbling\nbeneath the ship; and although they spoke in an undertone, the captain\nof the ship, who understood in an instant what it meant, cried out,\n\"All hands aboard! for here comes a storm, and Heaven save us!\" No\nsooner had he spoken these words than there came the testimony of a\nwhistling of the wind; and behold the sky was overcast with clouds, and\nthe sea was covered with white-crested waves. And whilst the waves on\neither side of the ship, curious to know what the others were about,\nleaped uninvited to the nuptials upon the deck, one man baled them with\na bowl into a tub, another drove them off with a pump; and whilst every\nsailor was hard at work--as it concerned his own safety--one minding\nthe rudder, another hauling the foresail, another the mainsheet,\nJennariello ran up to the topmast, to see with a telescope if he could\ndiscover any land where they might cast anchor. And lo! whilst he was\nmeasuring a hundred miles of distance with two feet of telescope, he\nsaw a dove and its mate come flying up and alight upon the sail-yard.\nThen the male bird said, \"Rucche, rucche!\" And his mate answered,\n\"What's the matter, husband, that you are lamenting so?\" \"This poor\nPrince,\" replied the other, \"has bought a falcon, which as soon as it\nshall be in his brother's hands will pick out his eyes; but if he does\nnot take it to him, or if he warns him of the danger, he will turn to\nmarble.\" And thereupon he began again to cry, \"Rucche, rucche!\" And his\nmate said to him, \"What, still lamenting! Is there anything new?\" \"Ay,\nindeed,\" answered the male dove, \"he has also bought a horse, and the\nfirst time his brother rides him the horse will break his neck; but if\nhe does not take it to him, or if he warns him of the danger, he will\nturn to marble.\" \"Rucche, rucche!\" he cried again. \"Alas, with all\nthese RUCCHE, RUCCHE,\" said the female dove, \"what's the matter now?\"\nAnd her mate said, \"This man is taking a beautiful wife to his brother;\nbut the first night, as soon as they go to sleep, they will both be\ndevoured by a frightful dragon; yet if he does not take her to him, or\nif he warns him of the danger, he will turn to marble.\"\n\nAs he spoke, the tempest ceased, and the rage of the sea and the fury\nof the wind subsided. But a far greater tempest arose in Jennariello's\nbreast, from what he had heard, and more than twenty times he was on\nthe point of throwing all the things into the sea, in order not to\ncarry to his brother the cause of his ruin. But on the other hand he\nthought of himself, and reflected that charity begins at home; and\nfearing that, if he did not carry these things to his brother, or if he\nwarned him of the danger, he should turn to marble, he resolved to look\nrather to the fact than to the possibility, since the shirt was closer\nto him than the jacket.\n\nWhen he arrived at Shady-Grove, he found his brother on the shore,\nawaiting with great joy the return of the ship, which he had seen at a\ndistance. And when he saw that it bore her whom he carried in his\nheart, and confronting one face with the other perceived that there was\nnot the difference of a hair, his joy was so great that he was almost\nweighed down under the excessive burden of delight. Then embracing his\nbrother fervently, he said to him, \"What falcon is that you are\ncarrying on your fist?\" And Jennariello answered, \"I have bought it on\npurpose to give to you.\" \"I see clearly that you love me,\" replied\nMilluccio, \"since you go about seeking to give me pleasure. Truly, if\nyou had brought me a costly treasure, it could not have given me\ngreater delight than this falcon.\" And just as he was going to take it\nin his hand, Jennariello quickly drew a large knife which he carried at\nhis side and cut off its head. At this deed the King stood aghast, and\nthought his brother mad to have done such a stupid act; but not to\ninterrupt the joy at his arrival, he remained silent. Presently,\nhowever, he saw the horse, and on asking his brother whose it was,\nheard that it was his own. Then he felt a great desire to ride him, and\njust as he was ordering the stirrup to beheld, Jennariello quickly cut\noff the horse's legs with his knife. Thereat the King waxed wrath, for\nhis brother seemed to have done it on purpose to vex him, and his\ncholer began to rise. However, he did not think it a right time to show\nresentment, lest he should poison the pleasure of the bride at first\nsight, whom he could never gaze upon enough.\n\nWhen they arrived at the royal palace, he invited all the lords and\nladies of the city to a grand feast, at which the hall seemed just like\na riding-school full of horses, curveting and prancing, with a number\nof foals in the form of women. But when the ball was ended, and a great\nbanquet had been despatched, they all retired to rest.\n\nJennariello, who thought of nothing else than to save his brother's\nlife, hid himself behind the bed of the bridal pair; and as he stood\nwatching to see the dragon come, behold at midnight a fierce dragon\nentered the chamber, who sent forth flames from his eyes and smoke from\nhis mouth, and who, from the terror he carried in his look, would have\nbeen a good agent to sell all the antidotes to fear in the\napothecaries' shops. As soon as Jennariello saw the monster, he began\nto lay about him right and left with a Damascus blade which he had\nhidden under his cloak; and he struck one blow so furiously that it cut\nin halves a post of the King's bed, at which noise the King awoke, and\nthe dragon disappeared.\n\nWhen Milluccio saw the sword in his brother's hand, and the bedpost cut\nin two, he set up a loud cry, \"Help here! hola! help! This traitor of a\nbrother is come to kill me!\" Whereupon, hearing the noise, a number of\nservants who slept in the antechamber came running up, and the King\nordered Jennariello to be bound, and sent him the same hour to prison.\n\nThe next morning, as soon as the Sun opened his bank to deliver the\ndeposit of light to the Creditor of the Day, the King summoned the\ncouncil; and when he told them what had passed, confirming the wicked\nintention shown in killing the falcon and the horse on purpose to vex\nhim, they judged that Jennariello deserved to die. The prayers of\nLiviella were all unavailing to soften the heart of the King, who said,\n\"You do not love me, wife, for you have more regard for your\nbrother-in-law than for my life. You have seen with your own eyes this\ndog of an assassin come with a sword that would cut a hair in the air\nto kill me; and if the bedpost (the column of my life) had not\nprotected me, you would at this moment have been a widow.\" So saying,\nhe gave orders that justice should take its course.\n\nWhen Jennariello heard this sentence, and saw himself so ill-rewarded\nfor doing good, he knew not what to think or to do. If he said nothing,\nbad; if he spoke, worse; and whatever he should do was a fall from the\ntree into the wolf's mouth. If he remained silent, he should lose his\nhead under an axe; if he spoke, he should end his days in a stone. At\nlength, after various resolutions, he made up his mind to disclose the\nmatter to his brother; and since he must die at all events, he thought\nit better to tell his brother the truth, and to end his days with the\ntitle of an innocent man, than to keep the truth to himself and be sent\nout of the world as a traitor. So sending word to the King that he had\nsomething to say of importance to his state, he was led into his\npresence, where he first made a long preamble of the love he had always\nborne him; then he went on to tell of the deception he had practiced on\nLiviella in order to give him pleasure; and then what he had heard from\nthe doves about the falcon, and how, to avoid being turned to marble,\nhe had brought it him, and without revealing the secret had killed it\nin order not to see him without eyes.\n\nAs he spoke, he felt his legs stiffen and turn to marble. And when he\nwent on to relate the affair of the horse in the same manner, he became\nvisibly stone up to the waist, stiffening miserably--a thing which at\nanother time he would have paid in ready money, but which now his heart\nwept at. At last, when he came to the affair of the dragon, he stood\nlike a statue in the middle of the hall, stone from head to foot. When\nthe King saw this, reproaching himself for the error he had committed,\nand the rash sentence he had passed upon so good and loving a brother,\nhe mourned him more than a year, and every time he thought of him he\nshed a river of tears.\n\nMeanwhile Liviella gave birth to two sons, who were two of the most\nbeautiful creatures in the world. And after a few months, when the\nQueen was gone into the country for pleasure, and the father and his\ntwo little boys chanced to be standing in the middle of the hall,\ngazing with tearful eyes on the statue--the memorial of his folly,\nwhich had taken from him the flower of men--behold a stately and\nvenerable old man entered, whose long hair fell upon his shoulders and\nwhose beard covered his breast. And making a reverence to the King, the\nold man said to him, \"What would your Majesty give to have this noble\nbrother return to his former state?\" And the King answered, \"I would\ngive my kingdom.\" \"Nay,\" replied the old man, \"this is not a thing that\nrequires payment in wealth; but being an affair of life, it must be\npaid for with as much again of life.\"\n\nThen the King, partly out of the love he bore Jennariello, and partly\nfrom hearing himself reproached with the injury he had done him,\nanswered, \"Believe me, my good sir, I would give my own life for his\nlife; and provided that he came out of the stone, I should be content\nto be enclosed in a stone.\"\n\nHearing this the old man said, \"Without putting your life to the\nrisk--since it takes so long to rear a man--the blood of these, your\ntwo little boys, smeared upon the marble, would suffice to make him\ninstantly come to life.\" Then the King replied, \"Children I may have\nagain, but I have a brother, and another I can never more hop to see.\"\nSo saying, he made a pitiable sacrifice of two little innocent kids\nbefore an idol of stone, and besmearing the statue with their blood, it\ninstantly became alive; whereupon the King embraced his brother, and\ntheir joy is not to be told. Then they had these poor little creatures\nput into a coffin, in order to give them burial with all due honour.\nBut just at that instant the Queen returned home, and the King, bidding\nhis brother hide himself, said to his wife, \"What would you give, my\nheart, to have my brother restored to life?\" \"I would give this whole\nkingdom,\" replied Liviella. And the King answered, \"Would you give the\nblood of your children?\" \"Nay, not that, indeed,\" replied the Queen;\n\"for I could not be so cruel as to tear out with my own hands the apple\nof my eyes.\" \"Alas!\" said the King, \"in order to see a brother alive, I\nhave killed my own children! for this was the price of Jennariello's\nlife!\"\n\nSo saying, he showed the Queen the little boys in the coffin; and when\nshe saw this sad spectacle, she cried aloud like one mad, saying, \"O my\nchildren! you props of my life, joys of my heart, fountains of my\nblood! Who has painted red the windows of the sun? Who has without a\ndoctor's licence bled the chief vein of my life? Alas, my children, my\nchildren! my hope now taken from me, my light now darkened, my joy now\npoisoned, my support now lost! You are stabbed by the sword, I am\npierced by grief; you are drowned in blood, I in tears. Alas that, to\ngive life to an uncle, you have slain your mother! For I am no longer\nable to weave the thread of my days without you, the fair counterpoises\nof the loom of my unhappy life. The organ of my voice must be silent,\nnow that its bellows are taken away. O children, children! why do ye\nnot give answer to your mother, who once gave you the blood in your\nveins, and now weeps it for you from her eyes? But since fate shows me\nthe fountain of my happiness dried up, I will no longer live the sport\nof fortune in the world, but will go at once to find you again!\"\n\nSo saying, she ran to a window to throw herself out; but just at that\ninstant her father entered by the same window in a cloud, and called to\nher, \"Stop, Liviella! I have now accomplished what I intended, and\nkilled three birds with one stone. I have revenged myself on\nJennariello, who came to my house to rob me of my daughter, by making\nhim stand all these months like a marble statue in a block of stone. I\nhave punished you for your ill-conduct in going away in a ship without\nmy permission, by showing you your two children, your two jewels,\nkilled by their own father. And I have punished the King for the\ncaprice he took into his head, by making him first the judge of his\nbrother, and afterwards the executioner of his children. But as I have\nwished only to shear and not to flay you, I desire now that all the\npoison may turn into sweetmeats for you. Therefore, go, take again your\nchildren and my grandchildren, who are more beautiful than ever. And\nyou, Milluccio, embrace me. I receive you as my son-in-law and as my\nson. And I pardon Jennariello his offence, having done all that he did\nout of love to so excellent a brother.\"\n\nAnd as he spoke, the little children came, and the grandfather was\nnever satisfied with embracing and kissing them; and in the midst of\nthe rejoicings Jennariello entered, as a third sharer in them, who,\nafter suffering so many storms of fate, was now swimming in macaroni\nbroth. But notwithstanding all the after pleasures that he enjoyed in\nlife, his past dangers never went from his mind; and he was always\nthinking on the error his brother had committed, and how careful a man\nought to be not to fall into the ditch, since--\n\n     \"All human judgment is false and perverse.\"\n\n\n\nXXVI\n\nTHE MONTHS\n\nIt is a saying worthy to be written in letters as big as those on a\nmonument, that silence never harmed any one: and let it not be imagined\nthat those slanderers who never speak well of others, but are always\ncutting and stinging, and pinching and biting, ever gain anything by\ntheir malice; for when the bags come to be shaken out, it has always\nbeen seen, and is so still, that whilst a good word gains love and\nprofit, slander brings enmity and ruin; and when you shall have heard\nhow this happens, you will say I speak with reason.\n\nOnce upon a time there were two brothers--Cianne, who was as rich as a\nlord, and Lise, who had barely enough to live upon: but poor as one was\nin fortune, so pitiful was the other in mind, for he would not have\ngiven his brother a farthing were it to save his life; so that poor\nLise in despair left his country, and set out to wander over the world.\nAnd he wandered on and on, till one wet and cold evening he came to an\ninn, where he found twelve youths seated around a fire, who, when they\nsaw poor Lise benumbed with cold, partly from the severe season and\npartly from his ragged clothes, invited him to sit down by the fire.\n\nLise accepted the invitation, for he needed it greatly, and began to\nwarm himself. And as he was warming himself, one of the young men whose\nface was such a picture of moroseness as to make you die of fright,\nsaid to him, \"What think you, countryman, of this weather?\"\n\n\"What do I think of it?\" replied Lise; \"I think that all the months of\nthe year perform their duty; but we, who know not what we would have,\nwish to give laws to Heaven; and wanting to have things our own way, we\ndo not fish deeply enough to the bottom, to find out whether what comes\ninto our fancy be good or evil, useful or hurtful. In winter, when it\nrains, we want the sun in Leo, and in the month of August the clouds to\ndischarge themselves; not reflecting, that were this the case, the\nseasons would be turned topsy-turvy, the seed sown would be lost, the\ncrops would be destroyed, the bodies of men would faint away, and\nNature would go head over heels. Therefore let us leave Heaven to its\nown course; for it has made the tree to mitigate with its wood the\nseverity of winter, and with its leaves the heat of summer.\"\n\n\"You speak like Samson!\" replied the youth; \"but you cannot deny that\nthis month of March, in which we now are, is very impertinent to send\nall this frost and rain, snow and hail, wind and storm, these fogs and\ntempests and other troubles, that make one's life a burden.\"\n\n\"You tell only the ill of this poor month,\" replied Lisa, \"but do not\nspeak of the benefits it yields us; for, by bringing forward the\nSpring, it commences the production of things, and is alone the cause\nthat the Sun proves the happiness of the present time, by leading him\ninto the house of the Ram.\"\n\nThe youth was greatly pleased at what Lise said, for he was in truth no\nother than the month of March itself, who had arrived at that inn with\nhis eleven brothers; and to reward Lise's goodness, who had not even\nfound anything ill to say of a month so sad that the shepherds do not\nlike to mention it, he gave him a beautiful little casket, saying,\n\"Take this, and if you want anything, only ask for it, and when you\nopen this box you will see it before you.\" Lise thanked the youth, with\nmany expressions of respect, and laying the little box under his head\nby way of a pillow, he went to sleep.\n\nAs soon, however, as the Sun, with the pencil of his rays, had\nretouched the dark shadows of Night, Lise took leave of the youths and\nset out on his way. But he had hardly proceeded fifty steps from the\ninn, when, opening the casket, he said, \"Ah, my friend, I wish I had a\nlitter lined with cloth, and with a little fire inside, that I might\ntravel warm and comfortable through the snow!\" No sooner had he uttered\nthe words than there appeared a litter, with bearers, who, lifting him\nup, placed him in it; whereupon he told them to carry him home.\n\nWhen the hour was come to set the jaws to work Lise opened the little\nbox and said, \"I wish for something to eat.\" And instantly there\nappeared a profusion of the choicest food, and there was such a banquet\nthat ten crowned kings might have feasted on it.\n\nOne evening, having come to a wood which did not give admittance to the\nSun because he came from suspected places, Lise opened the little\ncasket, and said, \"I should like to rest to-night on this beautiful\nspot, where the river is making harmony upon the stones as\naccompaniment to the song of the cool breezes.\" And instantly there\nappeared, under an oilcloth tent, a couch of fine scarlet, with down\nmattresses, covered with a Spanish counterpane and sheets as light as a\nfeather. Then he asked for something to eat, and in a trice there was\nset out a sideboard covered with silver and gold fit for a prince, and\nunder another tent a table was spread with viands, the savoury smell of\nwhich extended a hundred miles.\n\nWhen he had eaten enough, he laid himself down to sleep; and as soon as\nthe Cock, who is the spy of the Sun, announced to his master that the\nShades of Night were worn and wearied, and it was now time for him,\nlike a skilful general, to fall upon their rear and make a slaughter of\nthem, Lise opened his little box and said, \"I wish to have a handsome\ndress, for to-day I shall see my brother, and I should like to make his\nmouth water.\" No sooner said than done: immediately a princely dress of\nthe richest black velvet appeared, with edgings of red camlet and a\nlining of yellow cloth embroidered all over, which looked like a field\nof flowers. So dressing himself, Lise got into the litter and soon\nreached his brother's house.\n\nWhen Cianne saw his brother arrive, with all this splendour and luxury,\nhe wished to know what good fortune had befallen him. Then Lise told\nhim of the youths whom he had met in the inn, and of the present they\nhad made him; but he kept to himself his conversation with the youths.\n\nCianne was now all impatience to get away from his brother, and told\nhim to go and rest himself, as he was no doubt tired; then he started\npost-haste, and soon arrived at the inn, where, finding the same\nyouths, he fell into chat with them. And when the youth asked him the\nsame question, what he thought of that month of March, Cianne, making a\nbig mouth, said, \"Confound the miserable month! the enemy of shepherds,\nwhich stirs up all the ill-humours and brings sickness to our bodies. A\nmonth of which, whenever we would announce ruin to a man, we say,  Go,\nMarch has shaved you!' A month of which, when you want to call a man\npresumptuous, you say,  What cares March?' A month in short so hateful,\nthat it would be the best fortune for the world, the greatest blessing\nto the earth, the greatest gain to men, were it excluded from the band\nof brothers.\"\n\nMarch, who heard himself thus slandered, suppressed his anger till the\nmorning, intending then to reward Cianne for his calumny; and when\nCianne wished to depart, he gave him a fine whip, saying to him,\n\"Whenever you wish for anything, only say,  Whip, give me a hundred!'\nand you shall see pearls strung upon a rush.\"\n\nCianne, thanking the youth, went his way in great haste, not wishing to\nmake trial of the whip until he reached home. But hardly had he set\nfoot in the house, when he went into a secret chamber, intending to\nhide the money which he expected to receive from the whip. Then he\nsaid, \"Whip, give me a hundred!\" and thereupon the whip gave him more\nthan he looked for, making a score on his legs and face like a musical\ncomposer, so that Lise, hearing his cries, came running to the spot;\nand when he saw that the whip, like a runaway horse, could not stop\nitself, he opened the little box and brought it to a standstill. Then\nhe asked Cianne what had happened to him, and upon hearing his story,\nhe told him he had no one to blame but himself; for like a blockhead he\nalone had caused his own misfortune, acting like the camel, that wanted\nto have horns and lost its ears; but he bade him mind another time and\nkeep a bridle on his tongue, which was the key that had opened to him\nthe storehouse of misfortune; for if he had spoken well of the youths,\nhe would perhaps have had the same good fortune, especially as to speak\nwell of any one is a merchandise that costs nothing, and usually brings\nprofit that is not expected. In conclusion Lise comforted him, bidding\nhim not seek more wealth than Heaven had give him, for his little\ncasket would suffice to fill the houses of thirty misers, and Cianne\nshould be master of all he possessed, since to the generous man Heaven\nis treasurer; and he added that, although another brother might have\nborne Cianne ill-will for the cruelty with which he had treated him in\nhis poverty, yet he reflected that his avarice had been a favourable\nwind which had brought him to this port, and therefore wished to show\nhimself grateful for the benefit.\n\nWhen Cianne heard these things, he begged his brother's pardon for his\npast unkindness, and entering into partnership they enjoyed together\ntheir good fortune, and from that time forward Cianne spoke well of\neverything, however bad it might be; for--\n\n     \"The dog that was scalded with hot water, for ever dreads that\nwhich is cold.\"\n\n\n\nXXVII\n\nPINTOSMALTO\n\nIt has always been more difficult for a man to keep than to get; for in\nthe one case fortune aids, which often assists injustice, but in the\nother case sense is required. Therefore we frequently find a person\ndeficient in cleverness rise to wealth, and then, from want of sense,\nroll over heels to the bottom; as you will see clearly from the story I\nam going to tell you, if you are quick of understanding.\n\nA merchant once had an only daughter, whom he wished greatly to see\nmarried; but as often as he struck this note, he found her a hundred\nmiles off from the desired pitch, for the foolish girl would never\nconsent to marry, and the father was in consequence the most unhappy\nand miserable man in the world. Now it happened one day that he was\ngoing to a fair; so he asked his daughter, who was named Betta, what\nshe would like him to bring her on his return. And she said, \"Papa, if\nyou love me, bring me half a hundredweight of Palermo sugar, and as\nmuch again of sweet almonds, with four to six bottles of scented water,\nand a little musk and amber, also forty pearls, two sapphires, a few\ngarnets and rubies, with some gold thread, and above all a trough and a\nlittle silver trowel.\" Her father wondered at this extravagant demand,\nnevertheless he would not refuse his daughter; so he went to the fair,\nand on his return brought her all that she had requested.\n\nAs soon as Betta received these things, she shut herself up in a\nchamber, and began to make a great quantity of paste of almonds and\nsugar, mixed with rosewater and perfumes, and set to work to form a\nmost beautiful youth, making his hair of gold thread, his eyes of\nsapphires, his teeth of pearls, his lips of rubies; and she gave him\nsuch grace that speech alone was wanting to him. When she had done all\nthis, having heard say that at the prayers of a certain King of Cyprus\na statue had once come to life, she prayed to the goddess of Love so\nlong that at last the statue began to open its eyes; and increasing her\nprayers, it began to breathe; and after breathing, words came out; and\nat last, disengaging all its limbs, it began to walk.\n\nWith a joy far greater than if she had gained a kingdom, Betta embraced\nand kissed the youth, and taking him by the hand, she led him before\nher father and said, \"My lord and father, you have always told me that\nyou wished to see me married, and in order to please you I have now\nchosen a husband after my own heart.\" When her father saw the handsome\nyouth come out of his daughter's room, whom he had not seen enter it,\nhe stood amazed, and at the sight of such beauty, which folks would\nhave paid a halfpenny a head to gaze at, he consented that the marriage\nshould take place. So a great feast was made, at which, among the other\nladies present, there appeared a great unknown Queen, who, seeing the\nbeauty of Pintosmalto (for that was the name Betta gave him), fell\ndesperately in love with him. Now Pintosmalto, who had only opened his\neyes on the wickedness of the world three hours before, and was as\ninnocent as a babe, accompanied the strangers who had come to celebrate\nhis nuptials to the stairs, as his bride had told him; and when he did\nthe same with this Queen, she took him by the hand and led him quietly\nto her coach, drawn by six horses, which stood in the courtyard; then\ntaking him into it, she ordered the coachman to drive off and away to\nher country.\n\nAfter Betta had waited a while in vain expecting Pintosmalto to return,\nshe sent down into the courtyard to see whether he were speaking with\nany one there; then she sent up to the roof to see if he had gone to\ntake fresh air; but finding him nowhere, she directly imagined that, on\naccount of his great beauty, he had been stolen from her. So she\nordered the usual proclamations to be made; but at last, as no tidings\nof him were brought, she formed the resolution to go all the world over\nin search of him, and dressing herself as a poor girl, she set out on\nher way. After some months she came to the house of a good old woman,\nwho received her with great kindness; and when she had heard Betta's\nmisfortune, she took compassion on her, and taught her three sayings.\nThe first was, \"Tricche varlacche, the house rains!\" the second, \"Anola\ntranola, the fountain plays!\"; the third, \"Scatola matola, the sun\nshines!\"--telling her to repeat these words whenever she was in\ntrouble, and they would be of good service to her.\n\nBetta wondered greatly at this present of chaff, nevertheless she said\nto herself, \"He who blows into your mouth does not wish to see you\ndead, and the plant that strikes root does not wither; everything has\nits use; who knows what good fortune may be contained in these words?\"\nSo saying, she thanked the old woman, and set out upon her way. And\nafter a long journey she came to a beautiful city called Round Mount,\nwhere she went straight to the royal palace, and begged for the love of\nHeaven a little shelter in the stable. So the ladies of the court\nordered a small room to be given her on the stairs; and while poor\nBetta was sitting there she saw Pintosmalto pass by, whereat her joy\nwas so great that she was on the point of slipping down from the tree\nof life. But seeing the trouble she was in, Betta wished to make proof\nof the first saying which the old woman had told her; and no sooner had\nshe repeated the words, \"Tricche varlacche, the house rains!\" than\ninstantly there appeared before her a beautiful little coach of gold\nset all over with jewels, which ran about the chamber of itself and was\na wonder to behold.\n\nWhen the ladies of the court saw this sight they went and told the\nQueen, who without loss of time ran to Betta's chamber; and when she\nsaw the beautiful little coach, she asked whether she would sell it,\nand offered to give whatever she might demand. But Betta replied that,\nalthough she was poor she would not sell it for all the gold in the\nworld, but if the Queen wished for the little coach, she must allow her\nto pass one night at the door of Pintosmalto's chamber.\n\nThe Queen was amazed at the folly of the poor girl, who although she\nwas all in rags would nevertheless give up such riches for a mere whim;\nhowever, she resolved to take the good mouthful offered her, and, by\ngiving Pintosmalto a sleeping-draught, to satisfy the poor girl but pay\nher in bad coin.\n\nAs soon as the Night was come, when the stars in the sky and the\nglowworms on the earth were to pass in review, the Queen gave a\nsleeping-draught to Pintosmalto, who did everything he was told, and\nsent him to bed. And no sooner had he thrown himself on the mattress\nthan he fell as sound asleep as a dormouse. Poor Betta, who thought\nthat night to relate all her past troubles, seeing now that she had no\naudience, fell to lamenting beyond measure, blaming herself for all\nthat she had done for his sake; and the unhappy girl never closed her\nmouth, nor did the sleeping Pintosmalto ever open his eyes until the\nSun appeared with the aqua regia of his rays to separate the shades\nfrom the light, when the Queen came down, and taking Pintosmalto by the\nhand, said to Betta, \"Now be content.\"\n\n\"May you have such content all the days of your life!\" replied Betta in\nan undertone; \"for I have passed so bad a night that I shall not soon\nforget it.\"\n\nThe poor girl, however, could not resist her longing, and resolved to\nmake trial of the second saying; so she repeated the words, \"Anola\ntranola, the fountain plays!\" and instantly there appeared a golden\ncage, with a beautiful bird made of precious stones and gold, which\nsang like a nightingale. When the ladies saw this they went and told it\nto the Queen, who wished to see the bird; then she asked the same\nquestion as about the little coach, and Betta made the same reply as\nbefore. Whereupon the Queen, who perceived, as she thought, what a\nsilly creature Betta was, promised to grant her request, and took the\ncage with the bird. And as soon as night came she gave Pintosmalto a\nsleeping-draught as before, and sent him to bed. When Betta saw that he\nslept like a dead person, she began again to wail and lament, saying\nthings that would have moved a flintstone to compassion; and thus she\npassed another night, full of trouble, weeping and wailing and tearing\nher hair. But as soon as it was day the Queen came to fetch her\ncaptive, and left poor Betta in grief and sorrow, and biting her hands\nwith vexation at the trick that had been played her.\n\nIn the morning when Pintosmalto went to a garden outside the city gate\nto pluck some figs, he met a cobbler, who lived in a room close to\nwhere Betta lay and had not lost a word of all she had said. Then he\ntold Pintosmalto of the weeping, lamentation, and crying of the unhappy\nbeggar-girl; and when Pintosmalto, who already began to get a little\nmore sense, heard this, he guessed how matters stood, and resolved\nthat, if the same thing happened again, he would not drink what the\nQueen gave him.\n\nBetta now wished to make the third trial, so she said the words,\n\"Scatola matola, the sun shines!\" and instantly there appeared a\nquantity of stuffs of silk and gold, and embroidered scarfs, with a\ngolden cup; in short, the Queen herself could not have brought together\nso many beautiful ornaments. When the ladies saw these things they told\ntheir mistress, who endeavoured to obtain them as she had done the\nothers; but Betta replied as before, that if the Queen wished to have\nthem she must let her spend the night at the door of the chamber. Then\nthe Queen said to herself, \"What can I lose by satisfying this silly\ngirl, in order to get from her these beautiful things?\" So taking all\nthe treasures which Betta offered her, as soon as Night appeared, the\ninstrument for the debt contracted with Sleep and Repose being\nliquidated, she gave the sleeping-draught to Pintosmalto; but this time\nhe did not swallow it, and making an excuse to leave the room, he spat\nit out again, and then went to bed.\n\nBetta now began the same tune again, saying how she had kneaded him\nwith her own hands of sugar and almonds, how she had made his hair of\ngold, and his eyes and mouth of pearls and precious stones, and how he\nwas indebted to her for his life, which the gods had granted to her\nprayers, and lastly how he had been stolen from her, and she had gone\nseeking him with such toil and trouble. Then she went on to tell him\nhow she had watched two nights at the door of his room, and for leave\nto do so had given up two treasures, and yet had not been able to hear\na single word from him, so that this was the last night of her hopes\nand the conclusion of her life.\n\nWhen Pintosmalto, who had remained awake, heard these words, and called\nto mind as a dream all that had passed, he rose and embraced her; and\nas Night had just come forth with her black mask to direct the dance of\nthe Stars, he went very quietly into the chamber of the Queen, who was\nin a deep sleep, and took from her all the things that she had taken\nfrom Betta, and all the jewels and money which were in a desk, to repay\nhimself for his past troubles. Then returning to his wife, they set off\nthat very hour, and travelled on and on until they arrived at her\nfather's house, where they found him alive and well; and from the joy\nof seeing his daughter again he became like a boy of fifteen years. But\nwhen the Queen found neither Pintosmalto, nor beggar-girl, nor jewels,\nshe tore her hair and rent her clothes, and called to mind the saying--\n\n     \"He who cheats must not complain if he be cheated.\"\n\n\n\nXXVIII\n\nTHE GOLDEN ROOT\n\nA person who is over-curious, and wants to know more than he ought,\nalways carries the match in his hand to set fire to the powder-room of\nhis own fortunes; and he who pries into others' affairs is frequently a\nloser in his own; for generally he who digs holes to search for\ntreasures, comes to a ditch into which he himself falls--as happened to\nthe daughter of a gardener in the following manner.\n\nThere was once a gardener who was so very very poor that, however hard\nhe worked, he could not manage to get bread for his family. So he gave\nthree little pigs to his three daughters, that they might rear them,\nand thus get something for a little dowry. Then Pascuzza and Cice, who\nwere the eldest, drove their little pigs to feed in a beautiful meadow;\nbut they would not let Parmetella, who was the youngest daughter, go\nwith them, and sent her away, telling her to go and feed her pig\nsomewhere else. So Parmetella drove her little animal into a wood,\nwhere the Shades were holding out against the assaults of the Sun; and\ncoming to a pasture--in the middle of which flowed a fountain, that,\nlike the hostess of an inn where cold water is sold, was inviting the\npassers-by with its silver tongue--she found a certain tree with golden\nleaves. Then plucking one of them, she took it to her father, who with\ngreat joy sold it for more than twenty ducats, which served to stop up\na hole in his affairs. And when he asked Parmetella where she had found\nit, she said, \"Take it, sir, and ask no questions, unless you would\nspoil your good fortune.\" The next day she returned and did the same;\nand she went on plucking the leaves from the tree until it was entirely\nstript, as if it had been plundered by the winds of Autumn. Then she\nperceived that the tree had a large golden root, which she could not\npull up with her hands; so she went home, and fetching an axe set to\nwork to lay bare the root around the foot of the tree; and raising the\ntrunk as well as she could, she found under it a beautiful porphyry\nstaircase.\n\nParmetella, who was curious beyond measure, went down the stairs, and\nwalking through a large and deep cavern, she came to a beautiful plain,\non which was a splendid palace, where only gold and silver were trodden\nunderfoot, and pearls and precious stones everywhere met the eye. And\nas Parmetella stood wondering at all these splendid things, not seeing\nany person moving among so many beautiful fixtures, she went into a\nchamber, in which were a number of pictures; and on them were seen\npainted various beautiful things--especially the ignorance of man\nesteemed wise, the injustice of him who held the scales, the injuries\navenged by Heaven--things truly to amaze one. And in the same chamber\nalso was a splendid table, set out with things to eat and to drink.\n\nSeeing no one, Parmetella, who was very hungry, sat down at a table to\neat like a fine count; but whilst she was in the midst of the feast,\nbehold a handsome Slave entered, who said, \"Stay! do not go away, for I\nwill have you for my wife, and will make you the happiest woman in the\nworld.\" In spite of her fear, Parmetella took heart at this good offer,\nand consenting to what the Slave proposed, a coach of diamonds was\ninstantly given her, drawn by four golden steeds, with wings of\nemeralds and rubies, who carried her flying through the air to take an\nairing; and a number of apes, clad in cloth of gold, were given to\nattend on her person, who forthwith arrayed her from head to foot, and\nadorned her so that she looked just like a Queen.\n\nWhen night was come, and the Sun--desiring to sleep on the banks of the\nriver of India untroubled by gnats--had put out the light, the Slave\nsaid to Parmetella, \"My dear, now go to rest in this bed; but remember\nfirst to put out the candle, and mind what I say, or ill will betide\nyou.\" Then Parmetella did as he told her; but no sooner had she closed\nher eyes than the blackamoor, changing to a handsome youth, lay down to\nsleep. But the next morning, ere the Dawn went forth to seek fresh eggs\nin the fields of the sky the youth arose and took his other form again,\nleaving Parmetella full of wonder and curiosity.\n\nAnd again the following night, when Parmetella went to rest, she put\nout the candle as she had done the night before, and the youth came as\nusual and lay down to sleep. But no sooner had he shut his eyes than\nParmetella arose, took a steel which she had provided, and lighting the\ntinder applied a match; then taking the candle, she raised the\ncoverlet, and beheld the ebony turned to ivory, and the coal to chalk.\nAnd whilst she stood gazing with open mouth, and contemplating the most\nbeautiful pencilling that Nature had ever given upon the canvas of\nWonder, the youth awoke, and began to reproach Parmetella, saying, \"Ah,\nwoe is me! for your prying curiosity I have to suffer another seven\nyears this accursed punishment. But begone! Run, scamper off! Take\nyourself out of my sight! You know not what good fortune you lose.\" So\nsaying, he vanished like quicksilver.\n\nThe poor girl left the palace, cold and stiff with affright, and with\nher head bowed to the ground. And when she had come out of the cavern\nshe met a fairy, who said to her, \"My child, how my heart grieves at\nyour misfortune! Unhappy girl, you are going to the slaughter-house,\nwhere you will pass over the bridge no wider than a hair. Therefore, to\nprovide against your peril, take these seven spindles with these seven\nfigs, and a little jar of honey, and these seven pairs of iron shoes,\nand walk on and on without stopping, until they are worn out; then you\nwill see seven women standing upon a balcony of a house, and spinning\nfrom above down to the ground, with the thread wound upon the bone of a\ndead person. Remain quite still and hidden, and when the thread comes\ndown, take out the bone and put in its place a spindle besmeared with\nhoney, with a fig in the place of the little button. Then as soon as\nthe women draw up the spindles and taste the honey, they will say--\n\n      He who has made my spindle sweet,\n     Shall in return with good fortune meet!'\n\nAnd after repeating these words, they will say, one after another, 'O\nyou who brought us these sweet things appear!' Then you must answer,\nNay, for you will eat me.' And they will say,  We swear by our spoon\nthat we will not eat you!' But do not stir; and they will continue,  We\nswear by our spit that we will not eat you!' But stand firm, as if\nrooted to the spot; and they will say,  We swear by our broom that we\nwill not eat you!' Still do not believe them; and when they say,  We\nswear by our pail that we will not eat you!' shut your mouth, and say\nnot a word, or it will cost you your life. At last they will say,  We\nswear by Thunder-and-Lightning that we will not eat you!' Then take\ncourage and mount up, for they will do you no harm.\"\n\nWhen Parmetella heard this, she set off and walked over hill and dale,\nuntil at the end of seven years the iron shoes were worn out; and\ncoming to a large house, with a projecting balcony, she saw the seven\nwomen spinning. So she did as the fairy had advised her; and after a\nthousand wiles and allurements, they swore by Thunder-and-Lightning,\nwhereupon she showed herself and mounted up. Then they all seven said\nto her, \"Traitress, you are the cause that our brother has lived twice\nseven long years in the cavern, far away from us, in the form of a\nblackamoor! But never mind; although you have been clever enough to\nstop our throat with the oath, you shall on the first opportunity pay\noff both the old and the new reckoning. But now hear what you must do.\nHide yourself behind this trough, and when our mother comes, who would\nswallow you down at once, rise up and seize her behind her back; hold\nher fast, and do not let her go until she swears by\nThunder-and-Lightning not to harm you.\"\n\nParmetella did as she was bid, and after the ogress had sworn by the\nfire-shovel, by the spinning-wheel, by the reel, by the sideboard, and\nby the peg, at last she swore by Thunder-and-Lightning; whereupon\nParmetella let go her hold, and showed herself to the ogress, who said,\n\"You have caught me this time; but take care, Traitress! for, at the\nfirst shower, I'll send you to the Lava.\"\n\nOne day the ogress, who was on the look-out for an opportunity to\ndevour Parmetella, took twelve sacks of various seeds--peas,\nchick-peas, lentils, vetches, kidney-beans, beans, and lupins--and\nmixed them all together; then she said to her, \"Traitress, take these\nseeds and sort them all, so that each kind may be separated from the\nrest; and if they are not all sorted by this evening, I'll swallow you\nlike a penny tart.\"\n\nPoor Parmetella sat down beside the sacks, weeping, and said, \"O\nmother, mother, how will this golden root prove a root of woes to me!\nNow is my misery completed; by seeing a black face turned white, all\nhas become black before my eyes. Alas! I am ruined and undone--there is\nno help for it. I already seem as if I were in the throat of that\nhorrid ogress; there is no one to help me, there is no one to advise\nme, there is no one to comfort me!\"\n\nAs she was lamenting thus, lo! Thunder-and-Lightning appeared like a\nflash, for the banishment laid upon him by the spell had just ended.\nAlthough he was angry with Parmetella, yet his blood could not turn to\nwater, and seeing her grieving thus he said to her, \"Traitress, what\nmakes you weep so?\" Then she told him of his mother's ill-treatment of\nher, and her wish to make an end of her, and eat her up. But\nThunder-and-Lightning replied, \"Calm yourself and take heart, for it\nshall not be as she said.\" And instantly scattering all the seeds on\nthe ground he made a deluge of ants spring up, who forthwith set to\nwork to heap up all the seeds separately, each kind by itself, and\nParmetella filled the sacks with them.\n\nWhen the ogress came home and found the task done, she was almost in\ndespair, and cried, \"That dog Thunder-and-Lightning has played me this\ntrick; but you shall not escape thus! So take these pieces of bed-tick,\nwhich are enough for twelve mattresses, and mind that by this evening\nthey are filled with feathers, or else I will make mincemeat of you.\"\n\nThe poor girl took the bed-ticks, and sitting down upon the ground\nbegan to weep and lament bitterly, making two fountains of her eyes.\nBut presently Thunder-and-Lightning appeared, and said to her, \"Do not\nweep, Traitress,--leave it to me, and I will bring you to port; so let\ndown your hair, spread the bed-ticks upon the ground, and fall to\nweeping and wailing, and crying out that the king of the birds is dead,\nthen you'll see what will happen.\"\n\nParmetella did as she was told, and behold a cloud of birds suddenly\nappeared that darkened the air; and flapping their wings they let fall\ntheir feathers by basketfuls, so that in less than an hour the\nmattresses were all filled. When the ogress came home and saw the task\ndone, she swelled up with rage till she almost burst, saying,\n\"Thunder-and-Lightning is determined to plague me, but may I be dragged\nat an ape's tail if I let her escape!\" Then she said to Parmetella,\n\"Run quickly to my sister's house, and tell her to send me the musical\ninstruments; for I have resolved that Thunder-and-Lightning shall\nmarry, and we will make a feast fit for a king.\" At the same time she\nsent to bid her sister, when the poor girl came to ask for the\ninstruments, instantly to kill and cook her, and she would come and\npartake of the feast.\n\nParmetella, hearing herself ordered to perform an easier task, was in\ngreat joy, thinking that the weather had begun to grow milder. Alas,\nhow crooked is human judgment! On the way she met\nThunder-and-Lightning, who, seeing her walking at a quick pace, said to\nher, \"Whither are you going, wretched girl? See you not that you are on\nthe way to the slaughter; that you are forging your own fetters, and\nsharpening the knife and mixing the poison for yourself; that you are\nsent to the ogress for her to swallow you? But listen to me and fear\nnot. Take this little loaf, this bundle of hay, and this stone; and\nwhen you come to the house of my aunt, you will find a bulldog, which\nwill fly barking at you to bite you; but give him this little loaf, and\nit will stop his throat. And when you have passed the dog, you will\nmeet a horse running loose, which will run up to kick and trample on\nyou; but give him the hay, and you will clog his feet. At last you will\ncome to a door, banging to and fro continually; put this stone before\nit, and you will stop its fury. Then mount upstairs and you find the\nogress, with a little child in her arms, and the oven ready heated to\nbake you. Whereupon she will say to you,  Hold this little creature,\nand wait here till I go and fetch the instruments.' But mind--she will\nonly go to whet her tusks, in order to tear you in pieces. Then throw\nthe little child into the oven without pity, take the instruments which\nstand behind the door, and hie off before the ogress returns, or else\nyou are lost. The instruments are in a box, but beware of opening it,\nor you will repent.\"\n\nParmetella did all that Thunder-and-Lightning told her; but on her way\nback with the instruments she opened the box, and lo and behold! they\nall flew out and about--here a flute, there a flageolet, here a pipe,\nthere a bagpipe, making a thousand different sounds in the air, whilst\nParmetella stood looking on and tearing her hair in despair.\n\nMeanwhile the ogress came downstairs, and not finding Parmetella, she\nwent to the window, and called out to the door, \"Crush that traitress!\"\nBut the door answered:\n\n     \"I will not use the poor girl ill,\n     For she has made me at last stand still.\"\n\nThen the ogress cried out to the horse, \"Trample on the thief!\" But the\nhorse replied:\n\n     \"Let the poor girl go her way,\n     For she has given me the hay.\"\n\nAnd lastly, the ogress called to the dog, saying, \"Bite the rogue!\" But\nthe dog answered:\n\n     \"I'll not hurt a hair of her head,\n     For she it was who gave me the bread.\"\n\nNow as Parmetella ran crying after the instruments, she met\nThunder-and-Lightning, who scolded her well, saying, \"Traitress, will\nyou not learn at your cost that by your fatal curiosity you are brought\nto this plight?\" Then he called back the instruments with a whistle,\nand shut them up again in the box, telling Parmetella to take them to\nhis mother. But when the ogress saw her, she cried aloud, \"O cruel\nfate! even my sister is against me, and refuses to give me this\npleasure.\"\n\nMeanwhile the new bride arrived--a hideous pest, a compound of\nugliness, a harpy, an evil shade, a horror, a monster, a large tub, who\nwith a hundred flowers and boughs about her looked like a newly opened\ninn. Then the ogress made a great banquet for her; and being full of\ngall and malice, she had the table placed close to a well, where she\nseated her seven daughters, each with a torch in one hand; but she gave\ntwo torches to Parmetella, and made her sit at the edge of the well, on\npurpose that, when she fell asleep, she might tumble to the bottom.\n\nNow whilst the dishes were passing to and fro, and their blood began to\nget warm, Thunder-and-Lightning, who turned quite sick at the sight of\nthe new bride, said to Parmetella, \"Traitress, do you love me?\" \"Ay, to\nthe top of the roof,\" she replied. And he answered, \"If you love me,\ngive me a kiss.\" \"Nay,\" said Parmetella, \"YOU indeed, who have such a\npretty creature at your side! Heaven preserve her to you a hundred\nyears in health and with plenty of sons!\" Then the new bride answered,\n\"It is very clear that you are a simpleton, and would remain so were\nyou to live a hundred years, acting the prude as you do, and refusing\nto kiss so handsome a youth, whilst I let a herdsman kiss me for a\ncouple of chestnuts.\"\n\nAt these words the bridegroom swelled with rage like a toad, so that\nhis food remained sticking in his throat; however, he put a good face\non the matter and swallowed the pill, intending to make the reckoning\nand settle the balance afterwards. But when the tables were removed,\nand the ogress and his sisters had gone away, Thunder-and-Lightning\nsaid to the new bride, \"Wife, did you see this proud creature refuse me\na kiss?\" \"She was a simpleton,\" replied the bride, \"to refuse a kiss to\nsuch a handsome young man, whilst I let a herdsman kiss me for a couple\nof chestnuts.\"\n\nThunder-and-Lightning could contain himself no longer; the mustard got\nup into his nose, and with the flash of scorn and the thunder of\naction, he seized a knife and stabbed the bride, and digging a hole in\nthe cellar he buried her. Then embracing Parmetella he said to her,\n\"You are my jewel, the flower of women, the mirror of honour! Then turn\nthose eyes upon me, give me that hand, put out those lips, draw near to\nme, my heart! for I will be yours as long as the world lasts.\"\n\nThe next morning, when the Sun aroused his fiery steeds from their\nwatery stable, and drove them to pasture on the fields sown by the\nDawn, the ogress came with fresh eggs for the newly married couple,\nthat the young wife might be able to say, \"Happy is she who marries and\ngets a mother-in-law!\" But finding Parmetella in the arms of her son,\nand hearing what had passed, she ran to her sister, to concert some\nmeans of removing this thorn from her eyes without her son's being able\nto prevent it. But when she found that her sister, out of grief at the\nloss of her daughter, had crept into the oven herself and was burnt,\nher despair was so great, that from an ogress she became a ram, and\nbutted her head against the wall under she broke her pate. Then\nThunder-and-Lightning made peace between Parmetella and her\nsisters-in-law, and they all lived happy and content, finding the\nsaying come true, that--\n\n     \"Patience conquers all.\"\n\n\n\nXXIX\n\nSUN, MOON, AND TALIA\n\nIt is a well-known fact that the cruel man is generally his own\nhangman; and he who throws stones at Heaven frequently comes off with a\nbroken head. But the reverse of the medal shows us that innocence is a\nshield of fig-tree wood, upon which the sword of malice is broken, or\nblunts its point; so that, when a poor man fancies himself already dead\nand buried, he revives again in bone and flesh, as you shall hear in\nthe story which I am going to draw from the cask of memory with the tap\nof my tongue.\n\nThere was once a great Lord, who, having a daughter born to him named\nTalia, commanded the seers and wise men of his kingdom to come and tell\nhim her fortune; and after various counsellings they came to the\nconclusion, that a great peril awaited her from a piece of stalk in\nsome flax. Thereupon he issued a command, prohibiting any flax or hemp,\nor such-like thing, to be brought into his house, hoping thus to avoid\nthe danger.\n\nWhen Talia was grown up, and was standing one day at the window, she\nsaw an old woman pass by who was spinning. She had never seen a distaff\nor a spindle, and being vastly pleased with the twisting and twirling\nof the thread, her curiosity was so great that she made the old woman\ncome upstairs. Then, taking the distaff in her hand, Talia began to\ndraw out the thread, when, by mischance, a piece of stalk in the flax\ngetting under her finger-nail, she fell dead upon the ground; at which\nsight the old woman hobbled downstairs as quickly as she could.\n\nWhen the unhappy father heard of the disaster that had befallen Talia,\nafter weeping bitterly, he placed her in that palace in the country,\nupon a velvet seat under a canopy of brocade; and fastening the doors,\nhe quitted for ever the place which had been the cause of such\nmisfortune to him, in order to drive all remembrance of it from his\nmind.\n\nNow, a certain King happened to go one day to the chase, and a falcon\nescaping from him flew in at the window of that palace. When the King\nfound that the bird did not return at his call, he ordered his\nattendants to knock at the door, thinking that the palace was\ninhabited; and after knocking for some time, the King ordered them to\nfetch a vine-dresser's ladder, wishing himself to scale the house and\nsee what was inside. Then he mounted the ladder, and going through the\nwhole palace, he stood aghast at not finding there any living person.\nAt last he came to the room where Talia was lying, as if enchanted; and\nwhen the King saw her, he called to her, thinking that she was asleep,\nbut in vain, for she still slept on, however loud he called. So, after\nadmiring her beauty awhile, the King returned home to his kingdom,\nwhere for a long time he forgot all that had happened.\n\nMeanwhile, two little twins, one a boy and the other a girl, who looked\nlike two little jewels, wandered, from I know not where, into the\npalace and found Talia in a trance. At first they were afraid because\nthey tried in vain to awaken her; but, becoming bolder, the girl gently\ntook Talia's finger into her mouth, to bite it and wake her up by this\nmeans; and so it happened that the splinter of flax came out. Thereupon\nshe seemed to awake as from a deep sleep; and when she saw those little\njewels at her side, she took them to her heart, and loved them more\nthan her life; but she wondered greatly at seeing herself quite alone\nin the palace with two children, and food and refreshment brought her\nby unseen hands.\n\nAfter a time the King, calling Talia to mind, took occasion one day\nwhen he went to the chase to go and see her; and when he found her\nawakened, and with two beautiful little creatures by her side, he was\nstruck dumb with rapture. Then the King told Talia who he was, and they\nformed a great league and friendship, and he remained there for several\ndays, promising, as he took leave, to return and fetch her.\n\nWhen the King went back to his own kingdom he was for ever repeating\nthe names of Talia and the little ones, insomuch that, when he was\neating he had Talia in his mouth, and Sun and Moon (for so he named the\nchildren); nay, even when he went to rest he did not leave off calling\non them, first one and then the other.\n\nNow the King's stepmother had grown suspicious at his long absence at\nthe chase, and when she heard him calling thus on Talia, Sun, and Moon,\nshe waxed wroth, and said to the King's secretary, \"Hark ye, friend,\nyou stand in great danger, between the axe and the block; tell me who\nit is that my stepson is enamoured of, and I will make you rich; but if\nyou conceal the truth from me, I'll make you rue it.\"\n\nThe man, moved on the one side by fear, and on the other pricked by\ninterest, which is a bandage to the eyes of honour, the blind of\njustice, and an old horse-shoe to trip up good faith, told the Queen\nthe whole truth. Whereupon she sent the secretary in the King's name to\nTalia, saying that he wished to see the children. Then Talia sent them\nwith great joy, but the Queen commanded the cook to kill them, and\nserve them up in various ways for her wretched stepson to eat.\n\nNow the cook, who had a tender heart, seeing the two pretty little\ngolden pippins, took compassion on them, and gave them to his wife,\nbidding her keep them concealed; then he killed and dressed two little\nkids in a hundred different ways. When the King came, the Queen quickly\nordered the dishes served up; and the King fell to eating with great\ndelight, exclaiming, \"How good this is! Oh, how excellent, by the soul\nof my grandfather!\" And the old Queen all the while kept saying, \"Eat\naway, for you know what you eat.\" At first the King paid no attention\nto what she said; but at last, hearing the music continue, he replied,\n\"Ay, I know well enough what I eat, for YOU brought nothing to the\nhouse.\" And at last, getting up in a rage, he went off to a villa at a\nlittle distance to cool his anger.\n\nMeanwhile the Queen, not satisfied with what she had done, called the\nsecretary again, and sent him to fetch Talia, pretending that the King\nwished to see her. At this summons Talia went that very instant,\nlonging to see the light of her eyes, and not knowing that only the\nsmoke awaited her. But when she came before the Queen, the latter said\nto her, with the face of a Nero, and full of poison as a viper,\n\"Welcome, Madam Sly-cheat! Are you indeed the pretty mischief-maker?\nAre you the weed that has caught my son's eye and given me all this\ntrouble.\"\n\nWhen Talia heard this she began to excuse herself; but the Queen would\nnot listen to a word; and having a large fire lighted in the courtyard,\nshe commanded that Talia should be thrown into the flames. Poor Talia,\nseeing matters come to a bad pass, fell on her knees before the Queen,\nand besought her at least to grant her time to take the clothes from\noff her back. Whereupon the Queen, not so much out of pity for the\nunhappy girl, as to get possession of her dress, which was embroidered\nall over with gold and pearls, said to her, \"Undress yourself--I allow\nyou.\" Then Talia began to undress, and as she took off each garment she\nuttered an exclamation of grief; and when she had stripped off her\ncloak, her gown, and her jacket, and was proceeding to take off her\npetticoat, they seized her and were dragging her away. At that moment\nthe King came up, and seeing the spectacle he demanded to know the\nwhole truth; and when he asked also for the children, and heard that\nhis stepmother had ordered them to be killed, the unhappy King gave\nhimself up to despair.\n\nHe then ordered her to be thrown into the same fire which had been\nlighted for Talia, and the secretary with her, who was the handle of\nthis cruel game and the weaver of this wicked web. Then he was going to\ndo the same with the cook, thinking that he had killed the children;\nbut the cook threw himself at the King's feet and said, \"Truly, sir\nKing, I would desire no other sinecure in return for the service I have\ndone you than to be thrown into a furnace full of live coals; I would\nask no other gratuity than the thrust of a spike; I would wish for no\nother amusement than to be roasted in the fire; I would desire no other\nprivilege than to have the ashes of the cook mingled with those of a\nQueen. But I look for no such great reward for having saved the\nchildren, and brought them back to you in spite of that wicked creature\nwho wished to kill them.\"\n\nWhen the King heard these words he was quite beside himself; he\nappeared to dream, and could not believe what his ears had heard. Then\nhe said to the cook, \"If it is true that you have saved the children,\nbe assured I will take you from turning the spit, and reward you so\nthat you shall call yourself the happiest man in the world.\"\n\nAs the King was speaking these words, the wife of the cook, seeing the\ndilemma her husband was in, brought Sun and Moon before the King, who,\nplaying at the game of three with Talia and the other children, went\nround and round kissing first one and then another. Then giving the\ncook a large reward, he made him his chamberlain; and he took Talia to\nwife, who enjoyed a long life with her husband and the children,\nacknowledging that--\n\n     \"He who has luck may go to bed,\n     And bliss will rain upon his head.\"\n\n\n\nXXX\n\nNENNILLO AND NENNELLA\n\nWoe to him who thinks to find a governess for his children by giving\nthem a stepmother! He only brings into his house the cause of their\nruin. There never yet was a stepmother who looked kindly on the\nchildren of another; or if by chance such a one were ever found, she\nwould be regarded as a miracle, and be called a white crow. But beside\nall those of whom you may have heard, I will now tell you of another,\nto be added to the list of heartless stepmothers, whom you will\nconsider well deserving the punishment she purchased for herself with\nready money.\n\nThere was once a good man named Jannuccio, who had two children,\nNennillo and Nennella, whom he loved as much as his own life. But Death\nhaving, with the smooth file of Time, severed the prison-bars of his\nwife's soul, he took to himself a cruel woman, who had no sooner set\nfoot in his house than she began to ride the high horse, saying, \"Am I\ncome here indeed to look after other folk's children? A pretty job I\nhave undertaken, to have all this trouble and be for ever teased by a\ncouple of squalling brats! Would that I had broken my neck ere I ever\ncame to this place, to have bad food, worse drink, and get no sleep at\nnight! Here's a life to lead! Forsooth I came as a wife, and not as a\nservant; but I must find some means of getting rid of these creatures,\nor it will cost me my life: better to blush once than to grow pale a\nhundred times; so I've done with them, for I am resolved to send them\naway, or to leave the house myself for ever.\"\n\nThe poor husband, who had some affection for this woman, said to her,\n\"Softly, wife! Don't be angry, for sugar is dear; and to-morrow\nmorning, before the cock crows, I will remove this annoyance in order\nto please you.\" So the next morning, ere the Dawn had hung out the red\ncounterpane at the window of the East to air it, Jannuccio took the\nchildren, one by each hand, and with a good basketful of things to eat\nupon his arm, he led them to a wood, where an army of poplars and\nbeech-trees were holding the shades besieged. Then Jannuccio said, \"My\nlittle children, stay here in this wood, and eat and drink merrily; but\nif you want anything, follow this line of ashes which I have been\nstrewing as we came along; this will be a clue to lead you out of the\nlabyrinth and bring you straight home.\" Then giving them both a kiss,\nhe returned weeping to his house.\n\nBut at the hour when all creatures, summoned by the constables of\nNight, pay to Nature the tax of needful repose, the two children began\nto feel afraid at remaining in that lonesome place, where the waters of\na river, which was thrashing the impertinent stones for obstructing its\ncourse, would have frightened even a hero. So they went slowly along\nthe path of ashes, and it was already midnight ere they reached their\nhome. When Pascozza, their stepmother, saw the children, she acted not\nlike a woman, but a perfect fury; crying aloud, wringing her hands,\nstamping with her feet, snorting like a frightened horse, and\nexclaiming, \"What fine piece of work is this? Is there no way of\nridding the house of these creatures? Is it possible, husband, that you\nare determined to keep them here to plague my very life out? Go, take\nthem out of my sight! I'll not wait for the crowing of cocks and the\ncackling of hens; or else be assured that to-morrow morning I'll go off\nto my parents' house, for you do not deserve me. I have not brought you\nso many fine things, only to be made the slave of children who are not\nmy own.\"\n\nPoor Jannuccio, who saw that matters were growing rather too warm,\nimmediately took the little ones and returned to the wood; where giving\nthe children another basketful of food, he said to them, \"You see, my\ndears, how this wife of mine--who is come to my house to be your ruin\nand a nail in my heart--hates you; therefore remain in this wood, where\nthe trees, more compassionate, will give you shelter from the sun;\nwhere the river, more charitable, will give you drink without poison;\nand the earth, more kind, will give you a pillow of grass without\ndanger. And when you want food, follow this little path of bran which I\nhave made for you in a straight line, and you can come and seek what\nyou require.\" So saying, he turned away his face, not to let himself be\nseen to weep and dishearten the poor little creatures.\n\nWhen Nennillo and Nennella had eaten all that was in the basket, they\nwanted to return home; but alas! a jackass--the son of ill-luck--had\neaten up all the bran that was strewn upon the ground; so they lost\ntheir way, and wandered about forlorn in the wood for several days,\nfeeding on acorns and chestnuts which they found fallen on the ground.\nBut as Heaven always extends its arm over the innocent, there came by\nchance a Prince to hunt in that wood. Then Nennillo, hearing the baying\nof the hounds, was so frightened that he crept into a hollow tree; and\nNennella set off running at full speed, and ran until she came out of\nthe wood, and found herself on the seashore. Now it happened that some\npirates, who had landed there to get fuel, saw Nennella and carried her\noff; and their captain took her home with him where he and his wife,\nhaving just lost a little girl, took her as their daughter.\n\nMeantime Nennillo, who had hidden himself in the tree, was surrounded\nby the dogs, which made such a furious barking that the Prince sent to\nfind out the cause; and when he discovered the pretty little boy, who\nwas so young that he could not tell who were his father and mother, he\nordered one of the huntsmen to set him upon his saddle and take him to\nthe royal palace. Then he had him brought up with great care, and\ninstructed in various arts, and among others, he had him taught that of\na carver; so that, before three or four years had passed, Nennillo\nbecame so expert in his art that he could carve a joint to a hair.\n\nNow about this time it was discovered that the captain of the ship who\nhad taken Nennella to his house was a sea-robber, and the people wished\nto take him prisoner; but getting timely notice from the clerks in the\nlaw-courts, who were his friends, and whom he kept in his pay, he fled\nwith all his family. It was decreed, however, perhaps by the judgment\nof Heaven, that he who had committed his crimes upon the sea, upon the\nsea should suffer the punishment of them; for having embarked in a\nsmall boat, no sooner was he upon the open sea than there came such a\nstorm of wind and tumult of the waves, that the boat was upset and all\nwere drowned--all except Nennella, who having had no share in the\ncorsair's robberies, like his wife and children, escaped the danger;\nfor just then a large enchanted fish, which was swimming about the\nboat, opened its huge throat and swallowed her down.\n\nThe little girl now thought to herself that her days were surely at an\nend, when suddenly she found a thing to amaze her inside the\nfish,--beautiful fields and fine gardens, and a splendid mansion, with\nall that heart could desire, in which she lived like a Princess. Then\nshe was carried quickly by the fish to a rock, where it chanced that\nthe Prince had come to escape the burning heat of a summer, and to\nenjoy the cool sea-breezes. And whilst a great banquet was preparing,\nNennillo had stepped out upon a balcony of the palace on the rock to\nsharpen some knives, priding himself greatly on acquiring honour from\nhis office. When Nennella saw him through the fish's throat, she cried\naloud,\n\n     \"Brother, brother, your task is done,\n     The tables are laid out every one;\n     But here in the fish I must sit and sigh,\n     O brother, without you I soon shall die.\"\n\nNennillo at first paid no attention to the voice, but the Prince, who\nwas standing on another balcony and had also heard it, turned in the\ndirection whence the sound came, and saw the fish. And when he again\nheard the same words, he was beside himself with amazement, and ordered\na number of servants to try whether by any means they could ensnare the\nfish and draw it to land. At last, hearing the words \"Brother,\nbrother!\" continually repeated, he asked all his servants, one by one,\nwhether any of them had lost a sister. And Nennillo replied, that he\nrecollected, as a dream, having had a sister when the Prince found him\nin the wood, but that he had never since heard any tidings of her. Then\nthe Prince told him to go nearer to the fish, and see what was the\nmatter, for perhaps this adventure might concern him. As soon as\nNennillo approached the fish, it raised up its head upon the rock, and\nopening its throat six palms wide, Nennella stepped out, so beautiful\nthat she looked just like a nymph in some interlude, come forth from\nthat animal at the incantation of a magician. And when the Prince asked\nher how it had all happened, she told him a part of her sad story, and\nthe hatred of their stepmother; but not being able to recollect the\nname of their father nor of their home, the Prince caused a\nproclamation to be issued, commanding that whoever had lost two\nchildren, named Nennillo and Nennella, in a wood, should come to the\nroyal palace, and he would there receive joyful news of them.\n\nJannuccio, who had all this time passed a sad and disconsolate life,\nbelieving that his children had been devoured by wolves, now hastened\nwith the greatest joy to seek the Prince, and told him that he had lost\nthe children. And when he had related the story, how he had been\ncompelled to take them to the wood, the Prince gave him a good\nscolding, calling him a blockhead for allowing a woman to put her heel\nupon his neck till he was brought to send away two such jewels as his\nchildren. But after he had broken Jannuccio's head with these words, he\napplied to it the plaster of consolation, showing him the children,\nwhom the father embraced and kissed for half an hour without being\nsatisfied. Then the Prince made him pull off his jacket, and had him\ndressed like a lord; and sending for Jannuccio's wife, he showed her\nthose two golden pippins, asked her what that person would deserve who\nshould do them any harm, and even endanger their lives. And she\nreplied, \"For my part, I would put her into a closed cask, and send her\nrolling down a mountain.\"\n\n\"So it shall be done!\" said the Prince. \"The goat has butted at\nherself. Quick now! you have passed the sentence, and you must suffer\nit, for having borne these beautiful stepchildren such malice.\" So he\ngave orders that the sentence should be instantly executed. Then\nchoosing a very rich lord among his vassals, he gave him Nennella to\nwife, and the daughter of another great lord to Nennillo; allowing them\nenough to live upon, with their father, so that they wanted for nothing\nin the world. But the stepmother, shut into the cask and shut out from\nlife, kept on crying through the bunghole as long as she had breath--\n\n     \"To him who mischief seeks, shall mischief fall;\n     There comes an hour that recompenses all.\"\n\n\n\nXXXI\n\nTHE THREE CITRONS\n\nWell was it in truth said by the wise man, \"Do not say all you know,\nnor do all you are able\"; for both one and the other bring unknown\ndanger and unforeseen ruin; as you shall hear of a certain slave (be it\nspoken with all reverence for my lady the Princess), who, after doing\nall the injury in her power to a poor girl, came off so badly in the\ncourt, that she was the judge of her own crime, and sentenced herself\nto the punishment she deserved.\n\nThe King of Long-Tower had once a son, who was the apple of his eye,\nand on whom he had built all his hopes; and he longed impatiently for\nthe time when he should find some good match for him. But the Prince\nwas so averse to marriage and so obstinate that, whenever a wife was\ntalked of, he shook his head and wished himself a hundred miles off; so\nthat the poor King, finding his son stubborn and perverse, and\nforeseeing that his race would come to an end, was more vexed and\nmelancholy, cast down and out of spirits, than a merchant whose\ncorrespondent has become bankrupt, or a peasant whose ass has died.\nNeither could the tears of his father move the Prince, nor the\nentreaties of the courtiers soften him, nor the counsel of wise men\nmake him change his mind; in vain they set before his eyes the wishes\nof his father, the wants of the people, and his own interest,\nrepresenting to him that he was the full-stop in the line of the royal\nrace; for with the obstinacy of Carella and the stubbornness of an old\nmule with a skin four fingers thick, he had planted his foot\nresolutely, stopped his ears, and closed his heart against all\nassaults. But as frequently more comes to pass in an hour than in a\nhundred years, and no one can say, Stop here or go there, it happened\nthat one day, when all were at table, and the Prince was cutting a\npiece of new-made cheese, whilst listening to the chit-chat that was\ngoing on, he accidentally cut his finger; and two drops of blood,\nfalling upon the cheese, made such a beautiful mixture of colours\nthat--either it was a punishment inflicted by Love, or the will of\nHeaven to console the poor father--the whim seized the Prince to find a\nwoman exactly as white and red as that cheese tinged with blood. Then\nhe said to his father, \"Sir, unless I have a wife as white and red as\nthis cheese, it is all over with me; so now resolve, if you wish to see\nme alive and well, to give me all I require to go through the world in\nsearch of a beauty exactly like this cheese, or else I shall end my\nlife and die by inches.\"\n\nWhen the King heard this mad resolution, he thought the house was\nfalling about his ears; his colour came and went, but as soon as he\nrecovered himself and could speak, he said, \"My son, the life of my\nsoul, the core of my heart, the prop of my old age, what mad-brained\nfancy has made you take leave of your senses? Have you lost your wits?\nYou want either all or nothing: first you wish not to marry, on purpose\nto deprive me of an heir, and now you are impatient to drive me out of\nthe world. Whither, O whither would you go wandering about, wasting\nyour life? And why leave your house, your hearth, your home? You know\nnot what toils and peril he brings on himself who goes rambling and\nroving. Let this whim pass, my son; be sensible, and do not wish to see\nmy life worn out, this house fall to the ground, my household go to\nruin.\"\n\nBut these and other words went in at one ear and out at the other, and\nwere all cast upon the sea; and the poor King, seeing that his son was\nas immovable as a rook upon a belfry, gave him a handful of dollars and\ntwo or three servants; and bidding him farewell, he felt as if his soul\nwas torn out of his body. Then weeping bitterly, he went to a balcony,\nand followed his son with his eyes until he was lost to sight.\n\nThe Prince departed, leaving his unhappy father to his grief, and\nhastened on his way through fields and woods, over mountain and valley,\nhill and plain, visiting various countries, and mixing with various\npeoples, and always with his eyes wide awake to see whether he could\nfind the object of his desire. At the end of several months he arrived\nat the coast of France, where, leaving his servants at a hospital with\nsore feet, he embarked alone in a Genoese boat, and set out towards the\nStraits of Gibraltar.  There he took a larger vessel and sailed for the\nIndies, seeking everywhere, from kingdom to kingdom, from province to\nprovince, from country to country, from street to street, from house to\nhouse, in every hole and corner, whether he could find the original\nlikeness of that beautiful image which he had pictured to his heart.\nAnd he wandered about and about until at length he came to the Island\nof the Ogresses, where he cast anchor and landed. There he found an\nold, old woman, withered and shrivelled up, and with a hideous face, to\nwhom he related the reason that had brought him to the country. The old\nwoman was beside herself with amazement when she heard the strange whim\nand the fancy of the Prince, and the toils and perils he had gone\nthrough to satisfy himself; then she said to him, \"Hasten away, my son!\nfor if my three daughters meet you I would not give a farthing for your\nlife; half-alive and half-roasted, a frying-pan would be your bier and\na belly your grave. But away with you as fast as a hare, and you will\nnot go far before you find what you are seeking!\"\n\nWhen the Prince heard this, frightened, terrified, and aghast, he set\noff running at full speed, and ran till he came to another country,\nwhere he again met an old woman, more ugly even than the first, to whom\nhe told all his story. Then the old woman said to him in like manner,\n\"Away with you! unless you wish to serve as a breakfast to the little\nogresses my daughters; but go straight on, and you will soon find what\nyou want.\"\n\nThe Prince, hearing this, set off running as fast as a dog with a\nkettle at its tail; and he went on and on, until he met another old\nwoman, who was sitting upon a wheel, with a basket full of little pies\nand sweetmeats on her arm, and feeding a number of jackasses, which\nthereupon began leaping about on the bank of a river and kicking at\nsome poor swans. When the Prince came up to the old woman, after making\na hundred salaams, he related to her the story of his wanderings;\nwhereupon the old woman, comforting him with kind words, gave him such\na good breakfast that he licked his fingers after it. And when he had\ndone eating she gave him three citrons, which seemed to be just fresh\ngathered from the tree; and she gave him also a beautiful knife,\nsaying, \"You are now free to return to Italy, for your labour is ended,\nand you have what you were seeking. Go your way, therefore, and when\nyou are near your own kingdom stop at the first fountain you come to\nand cut a citron. Then a fairy will come forth from it, and will say to\nyou, 'Give me to drink.' Mind and be ready with the water or she will\nvanish like quicksilver. But if you are not quick enough with the\nsecond fairy, have your eyes open and be watchful that the third does\nnot escape you, giving her quickly to drink, and you shall have a wife\nafter your own heart.\"\n\nThe Prince, overjoyed, kissed the old woman's hairy hand a hundred\ntimes, which seemed just like a hedgehog's back. Then taking his leave\nhe left that country, and coming to the seashore sailed for the Pillars\nof Hercules, and arrived at our Sea, and after a thousand storms and\nperils, he entered port a day's distance from his own kingdom. There he\ncame to a most beautiful grove, where the Shades formed a palace for\nthe Meadows, to prevent their being seen by the sun; and dismounting at\na fountain, which, with a crystal tongue, was inviting the people to\nrefresh their lips, he seated himself on a Syrian carpet formed by the\nplants and flowers. Then he drew his knife from the sheath and began to\ncut the first citron, when lo! there appeared like a flash of lightning\na most beautiful maiden, white as milk and red as a strawberry, who\nsaid, \"Give me to drink!\" The Prince was so amazed, bewildered, and\ncaptivated with the beauty of the fairy that he did not give her the\nwater quick enough, so she appeared and vanished at one and the same\nmoment. Whether this was a rap on the Prince's head, let any one judge\nwho, after longing for a thing, gets it into his hands and instantly\nloses it again.\n\nThen the Prince cut the second citron, and the same thing happened\nagain; and this was a second blow he got on his pate; so making two\nlittle fountains of his eyes, he wept, face to face, tear for tear,\ndrop for drop, with the fountain, and sighing he exclaimed, \"Good\nheavens, how is it that I am so unfortunate? Twice I have let her\nescape, as if my hands were tied; and here I sit like a rock, when I\nought to run like a greyhound. Faith indeed I have made a fine hand of\nit! But courage, man! there is still another, and three is the lucky\nnumber; either this knife shall give me the fay, or it shall take my\nlife away.\" So saying he cut the third citron, and forth came the third\nfairy, who said like the others, \"Give me to drink.\" Then the Prince\ninstantly handed her the water; and behold there stood before him a\ndelicate maiden, white as a junket with red streaks,--a thing never\nbefore seen in the world, with a beauty beyond compare, a fairness\nbeyond the beyonds, a grace more than the most. On that hair Jove had\nshowered down gold, of which Love made his shafts to pierce all hearts;\nthat face the god of Love had tinged with red, that some innocent soul\nshould be hung on the gallows of desire; at those eyes the sun had\nlighted two fireworks, to set fire to the rockets of sighs in the\nbreast of the beholder; to the roses on those lips Venus had given\ntheir colour, to wound a thousand enamoured hearts with their thorns.\nIn a word, she was so beautiful from head to foot, that a more\nexquisite creature was never seen. The Prince knew not what had\nhappened to him, and stood lost in amazement, gazing on such a\nbeautiful offspring of a citron; and he said to himself, \"Are you\nasleep or awake, Ciommetiello? Are your eyes bewitched, or are you\nblind? What fair white creature is this come forth from a yellow rind?\nWhat sweet fruit, from the sour juice of a citron? What lovely maiden\nsprung from a citron-pip?\"\n\nAt length, seeing that it was all true and no dream, he embraced the\nfairy, giving her a hundred and a hundred kisses; and after a thousand\ntender words had passed between them--words which, as a setting, had an\naccompaniment of sugared kisses--the Prince said, \"My soul, I cannot\ntake you to my father's kingdom without handsome raiment worthy of so\nbeautiful a person, and an attendance befitting a Queen; therefore\nclimb up into this oak-tree, where Nature seems purposely to have made\nfor us a hiding-place in the form of a little room, and here await my\nreturn; for I will come back on wings, before a tear can be dry, with\ndresses and servants, and carry you off to my kingdom.\" So saying,\nafter the usual ceremonies, he departed.\n\nNow a black slave, who was sent by her mistress with a pitcher to fetch\nwater, came to the well, and seeing by chance the reflection of the\nfairy in the water, she thought it was herself, and exclaimed in\namazement, \"Poor Lucia, what do I see? Me so pretty and fair, and\nmistress send me here. No, me will no longer bear.\" So saying she broke\nthe pitcher and returned home; and when her mistress asked her, \"Why\nhave you done this mischief?\" she replied, \"Me go to the well alone,\npitcher break upon a stone.\" Her mistress swallowed this idle story,\nand the next day she gave her a pretty little cask, telling her to go\nand fill it with water. So the slave returned to the fountain, and\nseeing again the beautiful image reflected in the water, she said with\na deep sigh, \"Me no ugly slave, me no broad-foot goose, but pretty and\nfine as mistress mine, and me not go to the fountain!\" So saying, smash\nagain! she broke the cask into seventy pieces, and returned grumbling\nhome, and said to her mistress, \"Ass come past, tub fell down at the\nwell, and all was broken in pieces.\" The poor mistress, on hearing\nthis, could contain herself no longer, and seizing a broomstick she\nbeat the slave so soundly that she felt it for many days; then giving\nher a leather bag, she said, \"Run, break your neck, you wretched slave,\nyou grasshopper-legs, you black beetle! Run and fetch me this bag full\nof water, or else I'll hang you like a dog, and give you a good\nthrashing.\"\n\nAway ran the slave heels over head, for she had seen the flash and\ndreaded the thunder; and while she was filling the leather bag, she\nturned to look again at the beautiful image, and said, \"Me fool to\nfetch water! better live by one's wits; such a pretty girl indeed to\nserve a bad mistress!\" So saying, she took a large pin which she wore\nin her hair, and began to pick holes in the leather bag, which looked\nlike an open place in a garden with the rose of a watering-pot making a\nhundred little fountains. When the fairy saw this she laughed outright;\nand the slave hearing her, turned and espied her hiding-place up in the\ntree; whereat she said to herself, \"O ho! you make me be beaten? but\nnever mind!\" Then she said to her, \"What you doing up there, pretty\nlass?\" And the fairy, who was the very mother of courtesy, told her all\nshe knew, and all that had passed with the Prince, whom she was\nexpecting from hour to hour and from moment to moment, with fine\ndresses and servants, to take her with him to his father's kingdom\nwhere they would live happy together.\n\nWhen the slave, who was full of spite, heard this, she thought to\nherself that she would get this prize into her own hands; so she\nanswered the fairy, \"You expect your husband,--me come up and comb your\nlocks, and make you more smart.\" And the fairy said, \"Ay, welcome as\nthe first of May!\" So the slave climbed up the tree, and the fairy held\nout her white hand to her, which looked in the black paws of the slave\nlike a crystal mirror in a frame of ebony. But no sooner did the slave\nbegin to comb the fairy's locks, than she suddenly stuck a hairpin into\nher head. Then the fairy, feeling herself pricked, cried out, \"Dove,\ndove!\" and instantly she became a dove and flew away; whereupon the\nslave stripped herself, and making a bundle of all the rags that she\nhad worn, she threw them a mile away; and there she sat, up in the\ntree, looking like a statue of jet in a house of emerald.\n\nIn a short time the Prince returned with a great cavalcade, and finding\na cask of caviar where he had left a pan of milk, he stood for awhile\nbeside himself with amazement. At length he said, \"Who has made this\ngreat blot of ink on the fine paper upon which I thought to write the\nbrightest days of my life? Who has hung with mourning this newly\nwhite-washed house, where I thought to spend a happy life? How comes it\nthat I find this touchstone, where I left a mine of silver, that was to\nmake me rich and happy?\" But the crafty slave, observing the Prince's\namazement, said, \"Do not wonder, my Prince; for me turned by a wicked\nspell from a white lily to a black coal.\"\n\nThe poor Prince, seeing that there was no help for the mischief,\ndrooped his head and swallowed this pill; and bidding the slave come\ndown from the tree, he ordered her to be clothed from head to foot in\nnew dresses. Then sad and sorrowful, cast-down and woe-begone, he took\nhis way back with the slave to his own country, where the King and\nQueen, who had gone out six miles to meet them, received them with the\nsame pleasure as a prisoner feels at the announcement of a sentence of\nhanging, seeing the fine choice their foolish son had made, who after\ntravelling about so long to find a white dove had brought home at last\na black crow. However, as they could do no less, they gave up the crown\nto their children, and placed the golden tripod upon that face of coal.\n\nNow whilst they were preparing splendid feasts and banquets, and the\ncooks were busy plucking geese, killing little pigs, flaying kids,\nbasting the roast meat, skimming pots, mincing meat for dumplings,\nlarding capons, and preparing a thousand other delicacies, a beautiful\ndove came flying to the kitchen window, and said,\n\n     \"O cook of the kitchen, tell me, I pray,\n     What the King and the slave are doing to-day.\"\n\nThe cook at first paid little heed to the dove; but when she returned a\nsecond and a third time, and repeated the same words, he ran to the\ndining-hall to tell the marvellous thing. But no sooner did the lady\nhear this music than she gave orders for the dove to be instantly\ncaught and made into a hash. So the cook went, and he managed to catch\nthe dove, and did all that the slave had commanded. And having scalded\nthe bird in order to pluck it, he threw the water with the feathers out\nfrom a balcony on to a garden-bed, on which, before three days had\npassed, there sprang up a beautiful citron-tree, which quickly grew to\nits full size.\n\nNow it happened that the King, going by chance to a window that looked\nupon the garden, saw the tree, which he had never observed before; and\ncalling the cook, he asked him when and by whom it had been planted. No\nsooner had he heard all the particulars from Master Pot-ladle, than he\nbegan to suspect how matters stood. So he gave orders, under pain of\ndeath, that the tree should not be touched, but that it should be\ntended with the greatest care.\n\nAt the end of a few days three most beautiful citrons appeared, similar\nto those which the ogress had given Ciommetiello. And when they were\ngrown larger, he plucked them; and shutting himself up in a chamber,\nwith a large basin of water and the knife, which he always carried at\nhis side, he began to cut the citrons. Then it all fell out with the\nfirst and second fairy just as it had done before; but when at last he\ncut the third citron, and gave the fairy who came forth from it to\ndrink, behold, there stood before him the self-same maiden whom he had\nleft up in the tree, and who told him all the mischief that the slave\nhad done.\n\nWho now can tell the least part of the delight the King felt at this\ngood turn of fortune? Who can describe the shouting and leaping for joy\nthat there was? For the King was swimming in a sea of delight, and was\nwafted to Heaven on a tide of rapture. Then he embraced the fairy, and\nordered her to be handsomely dressed from head to foot; and taking her\nby the hand he led her into the middle of the hall, where all the\ncourtiers and great folks of the city were met to celebrate the feast.\nThen the King called on them one by one, and said, \"Tell me, what\npunishment would that person deserve who should do any harm to this\nbeautiful lady!\" And one replied that such a person would deserve a\nhempen collar; another, a breakfast of stones; a third, a good beating;\na fourth, a draught of poison; a fifth, a millstone for a brooch--in\nshort, one said this thing and another that. At last he called on the\nblack Queen, and putting the same question, she replied, \"Such a person\nwould deserve to be burned, and that her ashes should be thrown from\nthe roof of the castle.\"\n\nWhen the King heard this, he said to her, \"You have struck your own\nfoot with the axe, you have made your own fetters, you have sharpened\nthe knife and mixed the poison; for no one has done this lady so much\nharm as yourself, you good-for-nothing creature! Know you that this is\nthe beautiful maiden whom you wounded with the hairpin? Know you that\nthis is the pretty dove which you ordered to be killed and cooked in a\nstewpan? What say you now? It is all your own doing; and one who does\nill may expect ill in return.\" So saying, he ordered the slave to be\nseized and cast alive on to a large burning pile of wood; and her ashes\nwere thrown from the top of the castle to all the winds of Heaven,\nverifying the truth of the saying that--\n\n     \"He who sows thorns should not go barefoot.\"\n\n\n\nXXXII\n\nCONCLUSION\n\nAll sat listening to Ciommetella's last story. Some praised the skill\nwith which she had told it, while others murmured at her indiscretion,\nsaying that, in the presence of the Princess, she ought not to have\nexposed to blame the ill-deeds of another slave, and run the risk of\nstopping the game. But Lucia herself sat upon thorns, and kept turning\nand twisting herself about all the time the story was being told;\ninsomuch that the restlessness of her body betrayed the storm that was\nin her heart, at seeing in the tale of another slave the exact image of\nher own deceit. Gladly would she have dismissed the whole company, but\nthat, owing to the desire which the doll had given her to hear stories,\nshe could not restrain her passion for them. And, partly also not to\ngive Taddeo cause for suspicion, she swallowed this bitter pill,\nintending to take a good revenge in proper time and place. But Taddeo,\nwho had grown quite fond of the amusement, made a sign to Zoza to\nrelate her story; and, after making her curtsey, she began--\n\n\"Truth, my Lord Prince, has always been the mother of hatred, and I\nwould not wish, therefore, by obeying your commands, to offend any one\nof those about me. But as I am not accustomed to weave fictions or to\ninvent stories, I am constrained, both by nature and habit, to speak\nthe truth; and, although the proverb says, Tell truth and fear nothing,\nyet knowing well that truth is not welcome in the presence of princes,\nI tremble lest I say anything that may offend you.\"\n\n\"Say all you wish,\" replied Taddeo, \"for nothing but what is sweet can\ncome from those pretty lips.\"\n\nThese words were stabs to the heart of the Slave, as all would have\nseen plainly if black faces were, as white ones, the book of the soul.\nAnd she would have given a finger of her hand to have been rid of these\nstories, for all before her eyes had grown blacker even than her face.\nShe feared that the last story was only the fore-runner of mischief to\nfollow; and from a cloudy morning she foretold a bad day. But Zoza,\nmeanwhile, began to enchant all around her with the sweetness of her\nwords, relating her sorrows from first to last, and beginning with her\nnatural melancholy, the unhappy augury of all she had to suffer. Then\nshe went on to tell of the old woman's curse, her painful wanderings,\nher arrival at the fountain, her bitter weeping, and the treacherous\nsleep which had been the cause of her ruin.\n\nThe Slave, hearing Zoza tell the story in all its breadth and length,\nand seeing the boat go out of its course, exclaimed, \"Be quiet and hold\nyour tongue! or I will not answer for the consequences.\" But Taddeo,\nwho had discovered how matters stood, could no longer contain himself;\nso, stripping off the mask and throwing the saddle on the ground, he\nexclaimed, \"Let her tell her story to the end, and have done with this\nnonsense. I have been made a fool of for long enough, and, if what I\nsuspect is true, it were better that you had never been born.\" Then he\ncommanded Zoza to continue her story in spite of his wife; and Zoza,\nwho only waited for the sign, went on to tell how the Slave had found\nthe pitcher and had treacherously robbed her of her good fortune. And,\nthereupon, she fell to weeping in such a manner, that every person\npresent was affected at the sight.\n\nTaddeo, who, from Zoza's tears and the Slave's silence, discerned the\ntruth of the matter, gave Lucia a rare scolding, and made her confess\nher treachery with her own lips. Then he gave instant orders that she\nshould be buried alive up to her neck, that she might die a more\npainful death. And, embracing Zoza, he caused her to be treated with\nall honour as his Princess and wife, sending to invite the King of\nWood-Valley to come to the feast.\n\nWith these fresh nuptials terminated the greatness of the Slave and the\namusement of these stories. And much good may they do you, and promote\nyour health! And may you lay them down as unwillingly as I do, taking\nmy leave with regret at my heels and a good spoonful of honey in my\nmouth.","title":"Stories from the Pentamerone","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":78695}