Sicilian Folktales
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How The Beggar Boy Turned Into Count Piro
ONCE ON A TIME there lived a man who had only one son, a lazy, stupid boy, who would never do anything he was told. When the father was dying, he sent for his son and told him that he would soon be left alone in the world, with no possessions but the small cottage they lived in and a pear tree which grew behind it, and that, whether he liked it or not, he would have to work, or else he would starve. Then the old man died.But the boy did not work; instead, he idled about as before, contenting himself with eating the pears off his tree, which, unlike other pear trees before or since, bore fruit the whole year round. Indeed, the pears were so much finer than any you could get even in the autumn, that one day, in the middle of the winter, they attracted the notice of a fox who was creeping by.
"Dear me; what lovely pears!" he said to the youth. "Do give me a basket of them. It will bring you luck!"
"Ah, little fox, but if I give you a basketful, what am I to eat?" asked the boy.
"Oh, trust me, and do what I tell you," said the fox; "I know it will bring you luck." So the boy got up and picked some of the ripest pears and put them into a rush basket. The fox thanked him, and, taking the basket in his mouth, trotted off to the king's palace and made his way straight to the king.
"Your Majesty, my master sends you a few of his best pears, and begs you will graciously accept them," he said, laying the basket at the feet of the king.
"Pears! at this season?" cried the king, peering down to look at them; "and, pray, who is your master?"
"The Count Piro," answered the fox.
"But how does he manage to get pears in midwinter?" asked the king.
"Oh, he has everything he wants," replied the fox; "he is richer even than you are, your Majesty."
"Then what can I send him in return for his pears?" said the king.
"Nothing, your Majesty, or you would hurt his feelings," answered the fox.
"Well, tell him how heartily I thank him, and how much I shall enjoy them." And the fox went away.
He trotted back to the cottage with his empty basket and told his tale, but the youth did not seem as pleased to hear as the fox was to tell.
"But, my dear little fox," said he, "you have brought me nothing in return, and I am so hungry!"
"Let me alone," replied the fox; "I know what I am doing. You will see, it will bring you luck."
A few days after this the fox came back again.
"I must have another basket of pears," said he.
"Ah, little fox, what shall I eat if you take away all my pears?" answered the youth.
"Be quiet, it will be all right," said the fox; and taking a bigger basket than before, he filled it quite full of pears. Then he picked it up in his mouth, and trotted off to the palace.
"Your Majesty, as you seemed to like the first basket of pears, I have brought you some more," said he, "with my master, the Count Piro's humble respects."
"Now, surely it is not possible to grow such pears with deep snow on the ground?" cried the king.
"Oh, that never affects them," answered the fox lightly; "he is rich enough to do anything. But to-day he sends me to ask if you will give him your daughter in marriage?"
"If he is so much richer than I am," said the king, "I shall be obliged to refuse. My honour would not permit me to accept his offer."
"Oh, your Majesty, you must not think that," replied the fox; "and do not let the question of a dowry trouble you. The Count Piro would not dream of asking anything but the hand of the princess."
"Is he really so rich that he can do without a dowry?" asked the king.
"Did I not tell your Majesty that he was richer than you?" answered the fox reproachfully.
"Well, beg him to come here, that we may talk together," said the king.
So the fox went back to the young man and said: "I have told the king that you are Count Piro, and have asked his daughter in marriage."
"Oh, little fox, what have you done?" cried the youth in dismay; "when the king sees me he will order my head to be cut off."
"Oh, no, he won't!" replied the fox; "just do as I tell you." And he went off to the town, and stopped at the house of the best tailor.
"My master, the Count Piro, begs that you will send him at once the finest coat that you have in your shop," said the fox, putting on his grandest air, "and if it fits him I will call and pay for it to-morrow! Indeed, as he is in a great hurry, perhaps it might be as well if I took it round myself." The tailor was not accustomed to serve counts, and he at once got out all the coats he had ready. The fox chose out a beautiful one of white and silver, bade the tailor tie it up in a parcel, and carrying the string in his teeth, he left the shop, and went to a horse-dealer's, whom he persuaded to send his finest horse round to the cottage, saying that the king had bidden his master to the palace.
Very unwillingly the young man put on the coat and mounted the horse, and rode up to meet the king, with the fox running before him.
"What am I to say to his Majesty, little fox?" he asked anxiously; "you know that I have never spoken to a king before."
"Say nothing," answered the fox, "but leave the talking to me. "Good morning, your Majesty," will be all that is necessary for you."
By this time they had reached the palace, and the king came to the door to receive Count Piro, and led him to the great hall, where a feast was spread. The princess was already seated at the table, but was as dumb as Count Piro himself.
"The Count speaks very little," the king said at last to the fox, and the fox answered: "He has so much to think about in the management of his property that he cannot afford to talk like ordinary people." The king was quite satisfied, and they finished dinner, after which Count Piro and the fox took leave.
The next morning the fox came round again.
"Give me another basket of pears," he said.
"Very well, little fox; but remember it may cost me my life," answered the youth.
"Oh, leave it to me, and do as I tell you, and you will see that in the end it will bring you luck," answered the fox; and plucking the pears he took them up to the king.
"My master, Count Piro, sends you these pears," he said, "and asks for an answer to his proposal."
"Tell the count that the wedding can take place whenever he pleases," answered the king, and, filled with pride, the fox trotted back to deliver his message.
"But I can't bring the princess here, little fox?" cried the young man in dismay.
"You leave everything to me," answered the fox; "have I not managed well so far?"
And up at the palace preparations were made for a grand wedding, and the youth was married to the princess.
After a week of feasting, the fox said to the king: "My master wishes to take his young bride home to his own castle."
"Very well, I will accompany them," replied the king; and he ordered his courtiers and attendants to get ready, and the best horses in his stable to be brought out for himself, Count Piro and the princess. So they all set out, and rode across the plain, the little fox running before them.
He stopped at the sight of a great flock of sheep, which was feeding peacefully on the rich grass. "To whom do these sheep belong?" asked he of the shepherd. "To an ogre," replied the shepherd.
"Hush," said the fox in a mysterious manner. "Do you see that crowd of armed men riding along? If you were to tell them that those sheep belonged to an ogre, they would kill them, and then the ogre would kill you! If they ask, just say the sheep belong to Count Piro; it will be better for everybody." And the fox ran hastily on, as he did not wish to be seen talking to the shepherd.
Very soon the king came up.
"What beautiful sheep!" he said, drawing up his horse. "I have none so fine in my pastures. Whose are they?"
"Count Piro's," answered the shepherd, who did not know the king.
"Well, he must be a very rich man," thought the king to himself, and rejoiced that he had such a wealthy son-in-law.
Meanwhile the fox had met with a huge herd of pigs, snuffling about the roots of some trees.
"To whom do these pigs belong?" he asked of the swineherd.
"To an ogre," replied he.
"Hush!" whispered the fox, though nobody could hear him; "do you see that troop of armed men riding towards us? If you tell them that the pigs belong to the ogre they will kill them, and then the ogre will kill you! If they ask, just say that the pigs belong to Count Piro; it will be better for everybody." And he ran hastily on.
Soon after the king rode up.
"What fine pigs!" he said, reining in his horse. "They are fatter than any I have got on my farms. Whose are they?"
"Count Piro's," answered the swineherd, who did not know the king; and again the king felt he was lucky to have such a rich son-in-law.
This time the fox ran faster than before, and in a flowery meadow he found a troop of horses feeding. "Whose horses are these?" he asked of the man who was watching them.
"An ogre's," replied he.
"Hush!" whispered the fox, "do you see that crowd of armed men coming towards us? If you tell them the horses belong to an ogre they will drive them off, and then the ogre will kill you! If they ask, just say they are Count Piro's; it will be better for everybody." And he ran on again.
In a few minutes the king rode up.
"Oh, what lovely creatures! how I wish they were mine!" he exclaimed. "Whose are they?"
Count Piro's," answered the man, who did not know the king; and the king's heart leapt as he thought that if they belonged to his rich son-in-law they were as good as his.
At last the fox came to the castle of the ogre himself. He ran up the steps, with tears falling from his eyes, and crying:
"Oh, you poor, poor people, what a sad fate is yours!"
"What has happened?" asked the ogre, trembling with fright.
"Do you see that troop of horsemen who are riding along the road? They are sent by the king to kill you!"
"Oh, dear little fox, help us, we implore you!" cried the ogre and his wife.
"Well, I will do what I can," answered the fox. "The best place is for you both to hide in the big oven, and when the soldiers have gone by I will let you out."
The ogre and ogress scrambled into the oven as quick as thought, and the fox banged the door on them; just as he did so the king came up.
"Do us the honour to dismount, your Majesty," said the fox, bowing low. "This is the palace of Count Piro!"
"Why it is more splendid than my own!" exclaimed the king, looking round on all the beautiful things that filled the hall. But why are there no servants?"
"His Excellency the Count Piro wished the princess to choose them for herself," answered the fox, and the king nodded his approval. He then rode on, leaving the bridal pair in the castle. But when it was dark and all was still, the fox crept downstairs and lit the kitchen fire, and the ogre and his wife were burned to death. The next morning the fox said to Count Piro:
"Now that you are rich and happy, you have no more need of me; but, before I go, there is one thing I must ask of you in return: when I die, promise me that you will give me a magnificent coffin, and bury me with due honours."
"Oh, little, little fox, don't talk of dying," cried the princess, nearly weeping, for she had taken a great liking to the fox.
After some time the fox thought he would see if the Count Piro was really grateful to him for all he had done, and went back to the castle, where he lay down on the door-step, and pretended to be dead. The princess was just going out for a walk, and directly she saw him lying there, she burst into tears and fell on her knees beside him.
"My dear little fox, you are not dead," she wailed; "you poor, poor little creature, you shall have the finest coffin in the world!"
"A coffin for an animal?" said Count Piro. "What nonsense! just take him by the leg and throw him into the ditch."
Then the fox sprang up and cried: "You wretched, thankless beggar; have you forgotten that you owe all your riches to me?"
Count Piro was frightened when he heard these words, as he thought that perhaps the fox might have power to take away the castle, and leave him as poor as when he had nothing to eat but the pears off his tree. So he tried to soften the fox's anger, saying that he had only spoken in joke, as he had known quite well that he was not really dead. For the sake of the princess, the fox let himself be softened, and he lived in the castle for many years, and played with Count Piro's children. And when he actually did die, his coffin was made of silver, and Count Piro and his wife followed him to the grave.
How To Find Out A True Friend
ONCE ON A TIME there lived a king and queen who longed to have a son. As none came, one day they made a vow at the shrine of St. James that if their prayers were granted the boy should set out on a pilgrimage as soon as he had passed his eighteenth birthday. And fancy their delight when one evening the king returned home from hunting and saw a baby lying in the cradle.All the people came crowding round to peep at it, and declared it was the most beautiful baby that ever was seen. Of course that is what they always say, but this time it happened to be true. And every day the boy grew bigger and stronger till he was twelve years old, when the king died, and he was left alone to take care of his mother.
In this way six years passed by, and his eighteenth birthday drew near. When she thought of this the queen's heart sank within her, for he was the light of her eyes' and how was she to send him forth to the unknown dangers that beset a pilgrim? So day by day she grew more and more sorrowful, and when she was alone wept bitterly.
Now the queen imagined that no one but herself knew how sad she was, but one morning her son said to her, "Mother, why do you cry the whole day long?"
"Nothing, nothing, my son; there is only one thing in the world that troubles me."
"What is that one thing?" asked he. "Are you afraid your property is badly managed? Let me go and look into the matter."
This pleased the queen, and he rode off to the plain country, where his mother owned great estates; but everything was in beautiful order, and he returned with a joyful heart, and said, "Now, mother, you can be happy again, for your lands are better managed than anyone else's I have seen. The cattle are thriving; the fields are thick with corn, and soon they will be ripe for harvest."
"That is good news indeed," answered she; but it did not seem to make any difference to her, and the next morning she was weeping and wailing as loudly as ever.
"Dear mother," said her son in despair, "if you will not tell me what is the cause of all this misery I shall leave home and wander far through the world."
"Ah, my son, my son," cried the queen, "it is the thought that I must part from you which causes me such grief; for before you were born we vowed a vow to St. James that when your eighteenth birthday was passed you should make a pilgrimage to his shrine, and very soon you will be eighteen, and I shall lose you. And for a whole year my eyes will never be gladdened by the sight of you, for the shrine is far away."
"Will it take no longer than that to reach it?" said he. "Oh, don't be so wretched; it is only dead people who never return. As long as I am alive you may be sure I will come back to you."
After this manner he comforted his mother, and on his eighteenth birthday his best horse was led to the door of the palace, and he took leave of the queen in these words, "Dear mother, farewell, and by the help of fate I shall return to you as soon as I can."
The queen burst into tears and wept sore; then amidst her sobs she drew three apples from her pocket and held them out, saying, "My son, take these apples and give heed to my words. You will need a companion in the long journey on which you are going. If you come across a young man who pleases you beg him to accompany you, and when you get to an inn invite him to have dinner with you. After you have eaten cut one of these apples in two unequal parts, and ask him to take one. If he takes the larger bit, then part from him, for he is no true friend to you. But if he takes the smaller bit treat him as your brother, and share with him all you have." Then she kissed her son once more, and blessed him, and let him go.
The young man rode a long way without meeting a single creature, but at last he saw a youth in the distance about the same age as himself, and he spurred his horse till he came up with the stranger, who stopped and asked:
"Where are you going, my fine fellow?"
"I am making a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James, for before I was born my mother vowed that I should go forth with a thank offering on my eighteenth birthday."
"That is my case too," said the stranger, "and, as we must both travel in the same direction, let us bear each other company."
The young man agreed to this proposal, but he took care not to get on terms of familiarity with the new comer till he had tried him with the apple.
By-and-by they reached an inn, and at sight of it the king's son said, "I am very hungry. Let us enter and order something to eat." The other consented, and they were soon sitting before a good dinner.
When they had finished the king's son drew an apple from his pocket, and cut it into a big half and a little half, and offered both to the stranger, who took the biggest bit. "You are no friend of mine," thought the king's son, and in order to part company with him he pretended to be ill and declared himself unable to proceed on his journey.
"Well, I can't wait for you," replied the other; "I am in haste to push on, so farewell."
"Farewell," said the king's son, glad in his heart to get rid of him so easily. The king's son remained in the inn for some time, so as to let the young man have a good start; them he ordered his horse and rode after him. But he was very sociable and the way seemed long and dull by himself. "Oh, if I could only meet with a true friend," he thought, "so that I should have some one to speak to. I hate being alone."
Soon after he came up with a young man, who stopped and asked him, "Where are you going, my fine fellow?" The king's son explained the object of his journey, and the young man answered, as the other had done, that he also was fulfilling the vow of his mother made at his birth.
"Well, we can ride on together," said the king's son, and the road seemed much shorter now that he had some one to talk to.
At length they reached an inn, and the king's son exclaimed, "I am very hungry; let us go in and get something to eat."
When they had finished the king's son drew an apple out of his pocket and cut it in two; he held the big bit and the little bit out to his companion, who took the big bit at once and soon ate it up. "You are no friend of mine," thought the king's son, and began to declare he felt so ill he could not continue his journey. When he had given the young man a good start he set off himself, but the way seemed even longer and duller than before. "Oh, if I could only meet with a true friend he should be as a brother to me," he sighed sadly; and as the thought passed through his mind, he noticed a youth going the same road as himself.
The youth came up to him and said, "Which way are you going, my fine fellow?" And for the third time the king's son explained all about his mother's vow. Why, that is just like me," cried the youth.
"Then let us ride on together," answered the king's son.
Now the miles seemed to slip by, for the new comer was so lively and entertaining that the king's son could not help hoping that he indeed might prove to be the true friend.
More quickly than he could have thought possible they reached an inn by the road-side, and turning to his companion the king's son said, "I am hungry; let us go in and have something to eat." So they went in and ordered dinner, and when they had finished the king's son drew out of his pocket the last apple, and cut it into two unequal parts, and held both out to the stranger. And the stranger took the little piece, and the heart of the king's son was glad within him, for at last he had found the friend he had been looking for. "Good youth," he cried, "we will be brothers, and what is mine shall be thine, and what is thine shall be mine. And together we will push on to the shrine, and if one of us dies on the road the other shall carry his body there." And the stranger agreed to all he said, and they rode forward together.
It took them a whole year to reach the shrine, and they passed through many different lands on their way. One day they arrived tired and half-starved in a big city, and said to one another, "Let us stay here for a little and rest before we set forth again." So they hired a small house close to the royal castle, and took up their abode there.
The following morning the king of the country happened to step on to his balcony, and saw the young men in the garden, and said to himself, "Dear me, those are wonderfully handsome youths; but one is handsomer than the other, and to him will I give my daughter to wife;" and indeed the king's son excelled his friend in beauty.
In order to set about his plan the king asked both the young men to dinner, and when they arrived at the castle he received them with the utmost kindness, and sent for his daughter, who was more lovely than both the sun and moon put together. But at bed-time the king caused the other young man to be given a poisoned drink, which killed him in a few minutes, for he thought to himself, "If his friend dies the other will forget his pilgrimage, and will stay here and marry my daughter."
When the king's son awoke the next morning he inquired of the servants where his friend had gone, as he did not see him. "He died suddenly last night," said they, "and is to be buried immediately."
But the king's son sprang up, and cried, "If my friend is dead I can stay here no longer, and cannot linger an hour in this house."
"Oh, give up your journey and remain here," exclaimed the king, "and you shall have my daughter for your wife." "No," answered the king's son, "I cannot stay; but, I pray you, grant my request, and give me a good horse, and let me go in peace, and when I have fulfilled my vow then I will return and marry your daughter."
So the king, seeing no words would move him, ordered a horse to be brought round, and the king's son mounted it, and took his dead friend before him on the saddle, and rode away.
Now the young man was not really dead, but only in a deep sleep.
When the king's son reached the shrine of St. James he got down from his horse, took his friend in his arms as if he had been a child, and laid him before the altar. "St. James," he said, "I have fulfilled the vow my parents made for me. I have come myself to your shrine, and have brought my friend. I place him in your hands. Restore him to life, I pray, for though he be dead yet has he fulfilled his vow also." And, behold! while he yet prayed his friend got up and stood before him as well as ever. And both the young men gave thanks, and set their faces towards home.
When they arrived at the town where the king dwelt they entered the small house over against the castle. The news of their coming spread very soon, and the king rejoiced greatly that the handsome young prince had come back again, and commanded great feasts to be prepared, for in a few days his daughter should marry the king's son. The young man himself could imagine no greater happiness, and when the marriage was over they spent some months at the court making merry.
At length the king's son said, "My mother awaits me at home, full of care and anxiety. Here I must remain no longer, and to-morrow I will take my wife and my friend and start for home." And the king was content that he should do so, and gave orders to prepare for their journey.
Now in his heart the king cherished a deadly hate towards the poor young man whom he had tried to kill, but who had returned to him living, and in order to do him hurt sent him on a message to some distant spot. "See that you are quick," said he, "for your friend will await your return before he starts." The youth put spurs to his horse and departed, bidding the prince farewell, so that the king's message might be delivered the sooner. As soon as he had started the king went to the chamber of the prince, and said to him, "If you do not start immediately, you will never reach the place where you must camp for the night."
"I cannot start without my friend," replied the king's son.
"Oh, he will be back in an hour," replied the king, "and I will give him my best horse, so that he will be sure to catch you up." The king's son allowed himself to be persuaded and took leave of his father-in-law, and set out with his wife on his journey home.
Meanwhile the poor friend had been unable to get through his task in the short time appointed by the king, and when at last he returned the king said to him,
"Your comrade is a long way off by now; you had better see if you can overtake him."
So the young man bowed and left the king's presence, and followed after his friend on foot, for he had no horse. Night and day he ran, till at length he reached the place where the king's son had pitched his tent, and sank down before him, a miserable object, worn out and covered with mud and dust. But the king's son welcomed him with joy, and tended him as he would his brother.
And at last they came home again, and the queen was waiting and watching in the palace, as she had never ceased to do since her son had rode away. She almost died of joy at seeing him again, but after a little she remembered his sick friend, and ordered a bed to be made ready and the best doctors in all the country to be sent for. When they heard of the queen's summons they flocked from all parts, but none could cure him. After everyone had tried and failed a servant entered and informed the queen that a strange old man had just knocked at the palace gate and declared that he was able to heal the dying youth. Now this was a holy man, who had heard of the trouble the king's son was in, and had come to help.
It happened that at this very time a little daughter was born to the king's son, but in his distress for his friend he had hardly a thought to spare for the baby. He could not be prevailed on to leave the sick bed, and he was bending over it when the holy man entered the room. "Do you wish your friend to be cured?" asked the new comer of the king's son. "And what price would you pay?"
"What price?" answered the king's son; "only tell me what I can do to heal him."
"Listen to me, then," said the old man. "This evening you must take your child, and open her veins, and smear the wounds of your friend with her blood. And you will see, he will get well in an instant."
At these words the king's son shrieked with horror, for he loved the baby dearly, but he answered, "I have sworn that I would treat my friend as if he were my brother, and if there is no other way my child must be sacrificed."
As by this time evening had already fallen he took the child and opened its veins, and smeared the blood over the wounds of the sick man, and the look of death departed from him, and he grew strong and rosy once more. But the little child lay as white and still as if she had been dead. They laid her in the cradle and wept bitterly, for they thought that by the next morning she would be lost to them.
At sunrise the old man returned and asked after the sick man.
"He is as well as ever," answered the king's son.
"And where is your baby?"
"In the cradle yonder, and I think she is dead," replied the father sadly.
"Look at her once more," said the holy man, and as they drew near the cradle there lay the baby smiling up at them.
"I am St. James of Lizia,," said the old man, "and I have come to help you, for I have seen that you are a true friend. From henceforward live happily, all of you, together, and if troubles should draw near you send for me, and I will aid you to get through them."
With these words he lifted his hand in blessing and vanished.
And they obeyed him, and were happy and content, and tried to make the people of the land happy and contented too.
Don Giovanni De La Fortuna
THERE WAS ONCE a man whose name was Don Giovanni de la Fortuna, and he lived in a beautiful house that his father had built, and spent a great deal of money. Indeed, he spent so much that very soon there was none left, and Don Giovanni, instead of being a rich man with everything he could wish for, was forced to put on the dress of a pilgrim, and to wander from place to place begging his bread.One day he was walking down a broad road when he was stopped by a handsome man he had never seen before, who, little as Don Giovanni knew it, was the devil himself.
"Would you like to be rich," asked the devil, "and to lead a pleasant life?"
"Yes, of course I should," replied the Don.
"Well, here is a purse; take it and say to it, "Dear purse, give me some money," and you will get as much as you can want But the charm will only work if you promise to remain three years, three months, and three days without washing and without combing and without shaving your beard or changing your clothes. If you do all this faithfully, when the time is up you shall keep the purse for yourself, and I will let you off any other conditions."
Now Don Giovanni was a man who never troubled his head about the future. He did not once think how very uncomfortable he should be all those three years, but only that he should be able, by means of the purse, to have all sorts of things he had been obliged to do without; so he joyfully put the purse in his pocket and went on his way. He soon began to ask for money for the mere pleasure of it, and there was always as much as he needed. For a little while he even forgot to notice how dirty he was getting, but this did not last long, for his hair became matted with dirt and hung over his eyes, and his pilgrim's dress was a mass of horrible rags and tatters.
He was in this state when, one morning, he happened to be passing a fine palace; and, as the sun was shining bright and warm, he sat down on the steps and tried to shake off some of the dust which he had picked up on the road. But in a few minutes a maid saw him, and said to her master, "I pray you, sir, to drive away that beggar who is sitting on the steps, or he will fill the whole house with his dirt."
So the master went out and called from some distance off, for he was really afraid to go near the man, "You filthy beggar, leave my house at once!"
"You need not be so rude," said Don Giovanni; "I am not a beggar, and if I chose I could force you and your wife to leave your house."
"What is that you can do?" laughed the gentleman.
"Will you sell me your house?" asked Don Giovanni. "I will buy it from you on the spot."
"Oh, the dirty creature is quite mad!" thought the gentleman. "I shall just accept his offer for a joke." And aloud he said: "All right; follow me, and we will go to a lawyer and get him to make a contract." And Don Giovanni followed him, and an agreement was drawn up by which the house was to be sold at once, and a large sum of money paid down in eight days. Then the Don went to an inn, where he hired two rooms, and, standing in one of them, said to his purse, "Dear purse, fill this room with gold;" and when the eight days were up it was so full you could not have put in another sovereign.
When the owner of the house came to take away his money Don Giovanni led him into the room and said: "There, just pocket what you want." The gentleman stared with open mouth at the astonishing sight; but he had given his word to sell the house, so he took his money, as he was told, and went away with his wife to look for some place to live in. And Don Giovanni left the inn and dwelt in the beautiful rooms, where his rags and dirt looked sadly out of place. And every day these got worse and worse.
By-and-bye the fame of his riches reached the ears of the king, and, as he himself was always in need of money, he sent for Don Giovanni, as he wished to borrow a large sum. Don Giovanni readily agreed to lend him what he wanted, and sent next day a huge waggon laden with sacks of gold.
"Who can he be?" thought the king to himself. "Why, he is much richer than I!"
The king took as much as he had need of; then ordered the rest to be returned to Don Giovanni, who refused to receive it, saying, "Tell his majesty I am much hurt at his proposal. I shall certainly not take back that handful of gold, and, if he declines to accept it, keep it yourself."
The servant departed and delivered the message, and the king wondered more than ever how anyone could be so rich. At last he spoke to the queen: "Dear wife, this man has done me a great service, and has, besides, behaved like a gentleman in not allowing me to send back the money. I wish to give him the hand of our eldest daughter."
The queen was quite pleased at this idea, and again messenger was sent to Don Giovanni, offering him the hand of the eldest princess.
"His majesty is too good," he replied. "I can only humbly accept the honour."
The messenger took back this answer, but a second time returned with the request that Don Giovanni would present them with his picture, so that they might know what sort of a person to expect. But when it came, and the princess saw the horrible figure, she screamed out, "What! marry this dirty beggar? Never, never!"
"Ah, child," answered the king, "how could I ever guess that the rich Don Giovanni would ever look like that? But I have passed my royal word, and I cannot break it, so there is no help for you."
"No, father; you may cut off my head, if you choose, but marry that horrible beggar—I never will!"
And the queen took her part, and reproached her husband bitterly for wishing his daughter to marry a creature like that.
Then the youngest daughter spoke: "Dear father, do not look so sad. As you have given your word, I will marry Don Giovanni." The king fell on her neck, and thanked her and kissed her, but the queen and the elder girl had nothing for her but laughs and jeers.
So it was settled, and then the king bade one of his lords go to Don Giovanni and ask him when the wedding day was to be, so that the princess might make ready.
"Let it be in two months," answered Don Giovanni, for the time was nearly up that the devil had fixed, and he wanted a whole month to himself to wash off the dirt of the past three years.
The very minute that the compact with the devil had come to an end his beard was shaved, his hair was cut, and his rags were burned, and day and night he lay in a bath of clear warm water. At length he felt he was clean again, and he put on splendid clothes, and hired a beautiful ship, and arrived in state at the king's palace.
The whole of the royal family came down to the ship to receive him, and the whole way the queen and the elder princess teased the sister about the dirty husband she was going to have. But when they saw how handsome he really was their hearts were filled with envy and anger, so that their eyes were blinded, and they fell over into the sea and were drowned. And the youngest daughter rejoiced in the good luck that had come to her, and they had a splendid wedding when the days of mourning for her mother and sister were ended.
Soon after the old king died, and Don Giovanni became king. And he was rich and happy to the end of his days, for he loved his wife, and his purse always gave him money.
The Cunning Shoemaker
ONCE ON A TIME there lived a shoemaker who could get no work to do, and was so poor that he and his wife nearly died of hunger. At last he said to her, "It is no use waiting on here—I can find nothing; so I shall go down to Mascalucia, and perhaps there I shall be more lucky."So down he went to Mascalucia, and walked through the streets crying, "Who wants some shoes?" And very soon a window was pushed up, and a woman's head was thrust out of it.
"Here are a pair for you to patch," she said. And he sat down on her doorstep and set about patching them.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked when they were done.
"A shilling."
"Here is eighteenpence, and good luck to you." And he went his way. He turned into the next street and set up his cry again, and it was not long before another window was pushed up and another head appeared.
"Here are some shoes for you to patch."
And the shoemaker sat down on the doorstep and patched them.
"How much do I owe you?" asked the woman when the shoes were finished.
"A florin."
"Here is a crown piece, and good luck to you." And she shut the window.
"Well," thought the shoemaker, "I have done finely. But I will not go back to my wife just yet, as, if I only go on at this rate, I shall soon have enough money to buy a donkey."
Having made up his mind what was best to do, he stayed in the town a few days longer till he had four gold pieces safe in his purse. Then he went to the market and for two of them he bought a good strong donkey, and, mounting on its back, he rode home to Catania. But as he entered a thick wood he saw in the distance a band of robbers who were coming quickly towards him.
"I am lost," thought he; "they are sure to take from me all the money that I have earned, and I shall be as poor as ever I was. What can I do?" However, being a clever little man and full of spirit, he did not lose heart, but, taking five florins, he fastened them out of sight under the donkey's thick mane. Then he rode on.
Directly the robber came up to him they seized him exactly as he had foretold and took away all his money.
"Oh, dear friends!" he cried, wringing his hands, "I am only a poor shoemaker, and have nothing but this donkey left in the world."
As he spoke the donkey gave himself a shake, and down fell the five florins.
"Where did that come from?" asked the robbers.
"Ah," replied the shoemaker, "you have guessed my secret. The donkey is a golden donkey, and supplies me with all my money."
"Sell him to us," said the robbers. "We will give you any price you like."
The shoemaker at first declared that nothing would induce him to sell him, but at last he agreed to hand him over to the robbers for fifty gold pieces. "But listen to what I tell you," said he. "You must each take it in turn to own him for a night and a day, or else you will all be fighting over the money."
With these words they parted, the robbers driving the donkey to their cave in the forest and the shoemaker returning home, very pleased with the success of his trick. He just stopped on the way to pick up a good dinner, and the next day spent most of his gains in buying a small vineyard.
Meanwhile the robbers had arrived at the cave where they lived, and the captain, calling them all round him, announced that it as his right to have the donkey for the first night. His companions agreed, and then he told his wife to put a mattress in the stable. She asked if he had gone out of his mind, but he answered crossly, "What is that to you? Do as you are bid, and tomorrow I will bring you some treasures."
Very early the captain awoke and searched the stable, but could find nothing, and guessed that Master Joseph had been making fun of them. "Well," he said to himself, "if I have been taken in, the others shall not come off any better."
So, when one of his men arrived and asked him eagerly how much money he had got, he answered gaily, "Oh, comrade, if you only knew! But I shall say nothing about it till everyone has had his turn!"
One after another they all took the donkey, but no money was forthcoming for anybody. At length, when all the band had been tricked, they held a council, and resolved to march to the shoemaker's house and punish him well for his cunning. Just as before, the shoemaker saw them a long way off, and began to think how he could outwit them again. When he had hit on a plan he called his wife, and said to her, "Take a bladder and fill it with blood, and bind it round your neck. When the robbers come and demand the money they gave me for the donkey I shall shout to you and tell you to get it quickly. You must argue with me, and decline to obey me, and then I shall plunge my knife into the bladder, and you must fall to the ground as if you were dead. There you must lie till I play on my guitar; then get up and begin to dance."
The wife made haste to do as she was bid, and there was no time to lose, for the robbers were drawing very near the house. They entered with a great noise, and overwhelmed the shoemaker with reproaches for having deceived them about the donkey.
"The poor beast must have lost its power owing to the change of masters," said he; "but we will not quarrel about it. You shall have back the fifty gold pieces that you gave for him. Aite," he cried to his wife, "go quickly to the chest upstairs, and bring down the money for these gentlemen."
"Wait a little," answered she; "I must first bake this fish. It will be spoilt if I leave it now."
"Go this instant, as you are bid," shouted the shoemaker, stamping as if he was in a great passion; but, as she did not stir, he drew his knife, and stabbed her in the neck. The blood spurted out freely, and she fell to the ground as if she was dead.
"What have you done?" asked the robbers, looking at him in dismay. "The poor woman was doing nothing."
"Perhaps I was hasty, but it is easily set right," replied the shoemaker, taking down his guitar and beginning to play. Hardly had he struck the first notes than his wife sat up; then got on her feet and danced.
The robbers stared with open mouths, and at last they said, "Master Joseph, you may keep the fifty gold pieces. But tell us what you will take for your guitar, for you must sell it to us?"
"Oh, that is impossible!" replied the shoemaker, "for every time I have a quarrel with my wife I just strike her dead, and so give vent to my anger. This has become such a habit with me that I don't think I could break myself of it; and, of course, if I got rid of the guitar I could never bring her back to life again."
However, the robbers would not listen to him, and at last he consented to take forty gold pieces for the guitar.
Then they all returned to their cave in the forest, delighted with their new purchase, and longing for a chance of trying its powers. But the captain declared that the first trial belonged to him, and after that the others might have their turn.
That evening he called to his wife and said, "What have you got for supper?"
"Macaroni," answered she.
"Why have you not boiled a fish?" he cried, and stabber in the neck so that she fell dead. The captain, who was not in the least angry, seized the guitar and began to play; but, let him play as loud as he would, the dead woman never stirred. "Oh, lying shoemaker! Oh, abominable knave! Twice has he got the better of me. But I will pay him out!"
So he raged and swore, but it did him no good. The fact remained that he had killed his wife and could not bring her back again.
The next morning came one of the robbers to fetch the guitar, and to hear what had happened.
"Well, how have you got on?"
"Oh, splendidly! I stabbed my wife, and then began to play, and now she is as well as ever."
"Did you really? Then this evening I will try for myself."
Of course the same thing happened over again, till all the wives had been killed secretly, and when there were no more left they whispered to each other the dreadful tale, and swore to be avenged on the shoemaker.
The band lost no time in setting out for his house, and, as before, the shoemaker saw them coming from afar. He called to his wife, who was washing in the kitchen: "Listen, Aita: when the robbers come and ask for me say I have gone to the vineyard. Then tell the dog to call me, and chase him from the house."
When he had given these directions he ran out of the back door and hid behind a barrel. A few minutes later the robbers arrived, and called loudly for the shoemaker.
"Alas! good gentlemen, he is up in the vineyard, but I will send the dog after him at once. Here! now quickly to the vineyard, and tell your master some gentlemen are here who wish to speak to him. Go as fast as you can." And she opened the door and let the dog out.
"You can really trust the dog to call your husband?" asked the robbers.
"Dear me, yes! He understands everything, and will always carry any message I give him."
By-and-bye the shoemaker came in and said, "Good morning, gentlemen; the dog tells me you wish to speak to me."
"Yes, we do," replied the robber; "we have come to speak to you about that guitar. It is your fault that we have murdered all our wives; and, though we played as you told us, none of them ever came back to life."
"You could not have played properly," said the shoemaker. "It was your own fault."
"Well, we will forget all about it," answered the robbers, "if you will only sell us your dog."
"Oh, that is impossible! I should never get on without him."
But the robbers offered him forty gold pieces, and at last he agreed to let them have the dog.
So they departed, taking the dog with them, and when they got back to their cave the captain declared that it was his right to have the first trial.
He then called his daughter, and said to her, "I am going to the inn; if anybody wants me, loose the dog, and send him to call me."
About an hour after some one arrived on business, and the girl untied the dog and said, "Go to the inn and call my father!" The dog bounded off, but ran straight to the shoemaker.
When the robber got home and found no dog he thought "He must have gone back to his old master," and, though night had already fallen, he went off after him.
"Master Joseph, is the dog here?" asked he.
"Ah! yes, the poor beast is so fond of me! You must give him time to get accustomed to new ways."
So the captain brought the dog back, and the following morning handed him over to another of the band, just saying that the animal really could do what the shoemaker had said.
The second robber carefully kept his own counsel, and fetched the dog secretly back from the shoemaker, and so on through the whole band. At length, when everybody had suffered, they met and told the whole story, and next day they all marched off in fury to the man who had made game of them. After reproaching him with having deceived them, they tied him up in a sack, and told him they were going to throw him into the sea. The shoemaker lay quite still, and let them do as they would.
They went on till they came to a church, and the robbers said, "The sun is hot and the sack is heavy; let us leave it here and go in and rest." So they put the sack down by the roadside, and went into the church.
Now, on a hill near by there was a swineherd looking after a great herd of pigs and whistling merrily.
When Master Joseph heard him he cried out as loud as he could, "I won"t; I won"t, I say."
"What won't you do?" asked the swineherd.
"Oh," replied the shoemaker. "They want me to marry the king's daughter, and I won't do it."
"How lucky you are!" sighed the swineherd. "Now, if it were only me!"
"Oh, if that's all!" replied the cunning shoemaker, "get you into this sack, and let me out."
Then the swineherd opened the sack and took the place of the shoemaker, who went gaily off, driving the pigs before him.
When the robbers were rested they came out of the church, took up the sack, and carried it to the sea, where they threw it in, and it sank directly. As they came back they met the shoemaker, and stared at him with open mouths.
"Oh, if you only knew how many pigs live in the sea," he cried. "And the deeper you go the more there are. I have just brought up these, and mean to return for some more."
"There are still some left there?"
"Oh, more than I could count," replied the shoemaker. "I will show you what you must do." Then he led the robbers back to the shore. "Now," said he, "you must each of you tie a stone to your necks, so that you may be sure to go deep enough, for I found the pigs that you saw very deep down indeed."
Then the robbers all tied stones round their necks, and jumped in, and were drowned, and Master Joseph drove his pigs home, and was a rich man to the end of his days.
The Story of Ciccu
ONCE ON A TIME there lived a man who had three sons. The eldest was called Peppe, the second Alfin, and the youngest Ciccu. They were all very poor, and at last things got so bad that they really had not enough to eat. So the father called his sons, and said to them, "My dear boys, I am too old to work any more, and there is nothing left for me but to beg in the streets.""No, no!" exclaimed his sons; "that you shall never do. Rather, if it must be, would we do it ourselves. But we have thought of a better plan than that."
"What is it?" asked the father.
"Well, we will take you in the forest, where you shall cut wood, and then we will bind it up in bundles and sell it in the town." So their father let them do as they said, and they all made their way into the forest; and as the old man was weak from lack of food his sons took it in turns to carry him on their backs. Then they built a little hut where they might take shelter, and set to work. Every morning early the father cut his sticks, and the sons bound them in bundles, and carried them to the town, bringing back the food the old man so much needed.
Some months passed in this way, and then the father suddenly fell ill, and knew that the time had come when he must die. He bade his sons fetch a lawyer, so that he might make his will, and when the man arrived he explained his wishes.
"I have," said he, "a little house in the village, and over it grows a fig-tree. The house I leave to my sons, who are to live in it together; the fig-tree I divide as follows. To my son Peppe I leave the branches. To my son Alfin I leave the trunk. To my son Ciccu I leave the fruit. Besides the house and tree, I have an old coverlet, which I leave to my eldest son. And an old purse, which I leave to my second son. And a horn, which I leave to my youngest son. And now farewell."
Thus speaking, he laid himself down, and died quietly. The brothers wept bitterly for their father, whom they loved, and when they had buried him they began to talk over their future lives. "What shall we do now?" said they. "Shall we live in the wood, or go back to the village?" And they made up their minds to stay where they were and continue to earn their living by selling firewood.
One very hot evening, after they had been working hard all day, they fell asleep under a tree in front of the hut. And as they slept there came by three fairies, who stopped to look at them.
"What fine fellows!" said one. "Let us give them a present."
"Yes, what shall it be?" asked another.
"This youth has a coverlet over him," said the first fairy. "When he wraps it round him, and wishes himself in any place, he will find himself there in an instant."
Then said the second fairy: "This youth has a purse in his hand. I will promise that it shall always give him as much gold as he asks for."
Last came the turn of the third fairy. "This one has a horn slung round him. When he blows at the small end the seas shall be covered with ships. And if he blows at the wide end they shall all be sunk in the waves." So they vanished, without knowing that Ciccu had been awake and heard all they said.
The next day, when they were all cutting wood, he said to his brothers, "That old coverlet and the purse are no use to you; I wish you would give them to me. I have a fancy for them, for the sake of old times." Now Peppe and Alfin were very fond of Ciccu, and never refused him anything, so they let him have the coverlet and the purse without a word. When he had got them safely Ciccu went on, "Dear brothers, I am tired of the forest. I want to live in the town, and work at some trade."
"O Ciccu! stay with us," they cried. "We are very happy here; and who knows how we shall get on elsewhere?"
"We can always try," answered Ciccu; "and if times are bad we can come back here and take up wood-cutting." So saying he picked up his bundle of sticks, and his brothers did the same.
But when they reached the town they found that the market was overstocked with firewood, and they did not sell enough to buy themselves a dinner, far less to get any food to carry home. They were wondering sadly what they should do when Ciccu said, "Come with me to the inn and let us have something to eat." They were so hungry by this time that they did not care much whether they paid for it or not, so they followed Ciccu, who gave his orders to the host. "Bring us three dishes, the nicest that you have, and a good bottle of wine."
"Ciccu! Ciccu!" whispered his brothers, horrified at this extravagance, "are you mad? How do you ever mean to pay for it?"
"Let me alone," replied Ciccu; "I know what I am about." And when they had finished their dinner Ciccu told the others to go on, and he would wait to pay the bill.
The brothers hurried on, without needing to be told twice, "for," thought they, "he has no money, and of course there will be a row."
When they were out of sight Ciccu asked the landlord how much he owed, and then said to his purse, "Dear purse, give me, I pray you, six florins," and instantly six florins were in the purse. Then he paid the bill and joined his brothers.
"How did you manage?" they asked.
"Never you mind," answered he. "I have paid every penny," and no more would he say. But the other two were very uneasy, for they felt sure something must be wrong, and the sooner they parted company with Ciccu the better. Ciccu understood what they were thinking, and, drawing forty gold pieces from his pocket, he held out twenty to each, saying, "Take these and turn them to good account. I am going away to seek my own fortune." Then he embraced them, and struck down another road.
He wandered on for many days, till at length he came to the town where the king had his court. The first thing Ciccu did was to order himself some fine clothes, and then buy a grand house, just opposite the palace.
Next he locked his door, and ordered a shower of gold to cover the staircase, and when this was done, the door was flung wide open, and everyone came and peeped at the shining golden stairs. Lastly the rumour of these wonders reached the ears of the king, who left his palace to behold these splendours with his own eyes. And Ciccu received him with all respect, and showed him over the house.
When the king went home he told such stories of what he had seen that his wife and daughter declared that they must go and see them too. So the king sent to ask Ciccu's leave, and Ciccu answered that if the queen and the princess would be pleased to do him such great honour he would show them anything they wished. Now the princess was as beautiful as the sun, and when Ciccu looked on her his heart went out to her, and he longed to have her to wife. The princess saw what was passing in his mind, and how she could make use of it to satisfy her curiosity as to the golden stairs; so she praised him and flattered him, and put cunning questions, till at length Ciccu's head was quite turned, and he told her the whole story of the fairies and their gifts. Then she begged him to lend her the purse for a few days, so that she could have one made like it, and so great was the love he had for her that he gave it to her at once.
The princess returned to the palace, taking with her the purse, which she had not the smallest intention of ever restoring to Ciccu. Very soon Ciccu had spent all the money he had by him, and could get no more without the help of his purse. Of course, he went at once to the king's daughter, and asked her if she had done with it, but she put him off with some excuse, and told him to come back next day. The next day it was the same thing, and the next, till a great rage filled Ciccu's heart instead of the love that had been there. And when night came he took in his hand a thick stick, wrapped himself in the coverlet, and wished himself in the chamber of the princess. The princess was asleep, but Ciccu seized her arm and pulled her out of bed, and beat her till she gave back the purse. Then he took up the coverlet, and wished he was safe in his own house.
No sooner had he gone than the princess hastened to her father and complained of her sufferings. Then the king rose up in a fury, and commanded Ciccu to be brought before him. "You richly deserve death," said he, "but I will allow you to live if you will instantly hand over to me the coverlet, the purse, and the horn."
What could Ciccu do? Life was sweet, and he was in the power of the king; so he gave up silently his ill-gotten goods, and was as poor as when he was a boy.
While he was wondering how he was to live it suddenly came into his mind that this was the season for the figs to ripen, and he said to himself, "I will go and see if the tree has borne well." So he set off home, where his brothers still lived, and found them living very uncomfortably, for they had spent all their money, and did not know how to make any more. However, he was pleased to see that the fig-tree looked in splendid condition, and was full of fruit. He ran and fetched a basket, and was just feeling the figs, to make sure which of them were ripe, when his brother Peppe called to him, "Stop! The figs of course are yours, but the branches they grow on are mine, and I forbid you to touch them."
Ciccu did not answer, but set a ladder against the tree, so that he could reach the topmost branches, and had his foot already on the first rung when he heard the voice of his brother Alfin: "Stop! the trunk belongs to me, and I forbid you to touch it!"
Then they began to quarrel violently, and there seemed no chance that they would ever cease, till one of them said, "Let us go before a judge." The others agreed, and when they had found a man whom they could trust Ciccu told him the whole story.
"This is my verdict," said the judge. "The figs in truth belong to you, but you cannot pluck them without touching both the trunk and the branches. Therefore you must give your first basketful to your brother Peppe, as the price of his leave to put your ladder against the tree; and the second basketful to your brother Alfin, for leave to shake his boughs. The rest you can keep for yourself."
And the brothers were contented, and returned home, saying one to the other, "We will each of us send a basket of figs to the king. Perhaps he will give us something in return, and if he does we will divide it faithfully between us." So the best figs were carefully packed in a basket, and Peppe set out with it to the castle.
On the road he met a little old man who stopped and said to him, "What have you got there, my fine fellow?"
"What is that to you?" was the answer; "mind your own business." But the old man only repeated his question, and Peppe, to get rid of him, exclaimed in anger, "Dirt."
"Good," replied the old man; "dirt you have said, and dirt let it be."
Peppe only tossed his head and went on his way till he got to the castle, where he knocked at the door. "I have a basket of lovely figs for the king," he said to the servant who opened it, "if his majesty will be graciously pleased to accept them with my humble duty."
The king loved figs, and ordered Peppe to be admitted to his presence, and a silver dish to be brought on which to put the figs. When Peppe uncovered his basket sure enough a layer of beautiful purple figs met the king's eyes, but underneath there was nothing but dirt. "How dare you play me such a trick?" shrieked the king in a rage. "Take him away, and give him fifty lashes." This was done, and Peppe returned home, sore and angry, but determined to say nothing about his adventure. And when his brothers asked him what had happened he only answered, "When we have all three been I will tell you."
A few days after this more figs were ready for plucking, and Alfin in his turn set out for the palace. He had not gone far down the road before he met the old man, who asked him what he had in his basket.
"Horns," answered Alfin, shortly.
"Good," replied the old man; "horns you have said, and horns let it be."
When Alfin reached the castle he knocked at the door and said to the servant: "Here is a basket of lovely figs, if his majesty will be good enough to accept them with my humble duty."
The king commanded that Alfin should be admitted to his presence, and a silver dish to be brought on which to lay the figs. When the basket was uncovered some beautiful purple figs lay on the top, but underneath there was nothing but horns. Then the king was beside himself with passion, and screamed out, "Is this a plot to mock me? Take him away, and give him a hundred and fifty lashes!" So Alfin went sadly home, but would not tell anything about his adventures, only saying grimly, "Now it is Ciccu's turn."
Ciccu had to wait a little before he gathered the last figs on the tree, and these were not nearly so good as the first set. However, he plucked them, as they had agreed, and set out for the king's palace. The old man was still on the road, and he came up and said to Ciccu, "What have you got in that basket?"
"Figs for the king," answered he.
"Let me have a peep," and Ciccu lifted the lid. "Oh, do give me one, I am so fond of figs," begged the little man.
"I am afraid if I do that the hole will show," replied Ciccu, but as he was very good-natured he gave him one. The old man ate it greedily and kept the stalk in his hand, and then asked for another and another and another till he had eaten half the basketful. "But there are not enough left to take to the king," murmured Ciccu.
"Don't be anxious," said the old man, throwing the stalks back into the basket; "just go on and carry the basket to the castle, and it will bring you luck."
Ciccu did not much like it; however he went on his way, and with a trembling heart rang the castle bell. "Here are some lovely figs for the king," said he, "if his majesty will graciously accept them with my humble duty."
When the king was told that there was another man with a basket of figs he cried out, "Oh, have him in, have him in! I suppose it is a wager!" But Ciccu uncovered the basket, and there lay a pile of beautiful ripe figs. And the king was delighted, and emptied them himself on the silver dish, and gave five florins to Ciccu, and offered besides to take him into his service. Ciccu accepted gratefully, but said he must first return home and give the five florins to his brothers.
When he got home Peppe spoke: "Now we will see what we each have got from the king. I myself received from him fifty lashes."
"And I a hundred and fifty," added Alfin.
"And I five florins and some sweets, which you can divide between you, for the king has taken me into his service." Then Ciccu went back to the Court and served the king, and the king loved him.
The other two brothers heard that Ciccu had become quite an important person, and they grew envious, and thought how they could put him to shame. At last they came to the king and said to him, "O king! your palace is beautiful indeed, but to be worthy of you it lacks one thing—the sword of the Man-eater."
"How can I get it?" asked the king.
"Oh, Ciccu can get it for you; ask him."
So the king sent for Ciccu and said to him, "Ciccu, you must at any price manage to get the sword of the Man-eater."
Ciccu was very much surprised at this sudden command, and he walked thoughtfully away to the stables and began to stroke his favourite horse, saying to himself, "Ah, my pet, we must bid each other good-bye, for the king has sent me away to get the sword of the Maneater." Now this horse was not like other horses, for it was a talking horse, and knew a great deal about many things, so it answered, "Fear nothing, and do as I tell you. Beg the king to give you fifty gold pieces and leave to ride me, and the rest will be easy." Ciccu believed what the horse said, and prayed the king to grant him what he asked. Then the two friends set out, but the horse chose what roads he pleased, and directed Ciccu in everything.
It took them many days' hard riding before they reached the country where the Man-eater lived, and then the horse told Ciccu to stop a group of old women who were coming chattering through the wood, and offer them each a shilling if they would collect a number of mosquitos and tie them up in a bag. When the bag was full Ciccu put it on his shoulder and stole into the house of the Man-eater (who had gone to look for his dinner) and let them all out in his bedroom. He himself hid carefully under the bed and waited. The Man-eater came in late, very tired with his long walk, and flung himself on the bed, placing his sword with its shining blade by his side. Scarcely had he lain down than the mosquitos began to buzz about and bite him, and he rolled from side to side trying to catch them, which he never could do, though they always seemed to be close to his nose. He was so busy over the mosquitos that he did not hear Ciccu steal softly out, or see him catch up the sword. But the horse heard and stood ready at the door, and as Ciccu came flying down the stairs and jumped on his back he sped away like the wind, and never stopped till they arrived at the king's palace.
The king had suffered much pain in his absence, thinking that if the Man-eater ate Ciccu, it would be all his fault. And he was so overjoyed to have him safe that he almost forgot the sword which he had sent him to bring. But the two brothers did not love Ciccu any better because he had succeeded when they hoped he would have failed, and one day they spoke to the king. "It is all very well for Ciccu to have got possession of the sword, but it would have been far more to your majesty's honour if he had captured the Man-eater himself." The king thought on these words, and at last he said to Ciccu, "Ciccu, I shall never rest until you bring me back the Man-eater himself. You may have any help you like, but somehow or other you must manage to do it." Ciccu felt very much cast, down at these words, and went to the stable to ask advice of his friend the horse. "Fear nothing," said the horse; "just say you want me and fifty pieces of gold." Ciccu did as he was bid, and the two set out together.
When they reached the country of the Man-eater, Ciccu made all the church bells toll and a proclamation to be made. "Ciccu, the servant of the king, is dead." The Man-eater soon heard what everyone was saying, and was glad in his heart, for he thought, "Well, it is good news that the thief who stole my sword is dead." But Ciccu bought an axe and a saw, and cut down a pine tree in the nearest wood, and began to hew it into planks.
"What are you doing in my wood?" asked the Maneater, coming up.
"Noble lord," answered Ciccu, "I am making a coffin for the body of Ciccu, who is dead."
"Don't be in a hurry," answered the Man-eater, who of course did not know whom he was talking to, "and perhaps I can help you ;" and they set to work sawing and fitting, and very soon the coffin was finished.
Then Ciccu scratched his ear thoughtfully, and cried, "Idiot that I am! I never took any measures. How am I to know if it is big enough? But now I come to think of it, Ciccu was about your size. I wonder if you would be so good as just to put yourself in the coffin, and see if there is enough room."
"Oh, delighted!" said the Man-eater, and laid himself at full length in the coffin. Ciccu clapped on the lid, put a strong cord round it, tied it fast on his horse, and rode back to the king. And when the king saw that he really had brought back the Man-eater, he commanded a huge iron chest to be brought, and locked the coffin up inside.
Just about this time the queen died, and soon after the king thought he should like to marry again. He sought everywhere, but he could not hear of any princess that took his fancy. Then the two envious brothers came to him and said, "O king! there is but one woman that is worthy of being your wife, and that is she who is the fairest in the whole world."
"But where can I find her?" asked the king
"Oh, Ciccu will know, and he will bring her to you."
Now the king had got so used to depending on Ciccu, that he really believed he could do everything. So he sent for him and said, "Ciccu, unless within eight days you bring me the fairest in the whole world, I will have you hewn into a thousand pieces." This mission seemed to Ciccu a hundred times worse than either of the others, and with tears in his eyes he took his way to the stables.
"Cheer up," laughed the horse; "tell the king you must have some bread and honey, and a purse of gold, and leave the rest to me."
Ciccu did as he was bid, and they started at a gallop.
After they had ridden some way, they saw a swarm of bees lying on the ground, so hungry and weak that they were unable to fly. "Get down, and give the poor things some honey," said the horse, and Ciccu dismounted. By-and-bye they came to a stream, on the bank of which was a fish, flapping feebly about in its efforts to reach the water. "Jump down, and throw the fish into the water; he will be useful to us," and Ciccu did so. Farther along the hillside they saw an eagle whose leg was caught in a snare. "Go and free that eagle from the snare; he will be useful to us;" and in a moment the eagle was soaring up into the sky.
At length they came to the castle where the fairest in the world lived with her parents. Then said the horse, "You must get down and sit on that stone, for I must enter the castle alone. Directly you see me come tearing by with the princess on my back, jump up behind, and hold her tight, so that she does not escape you. If you fail to do this, we are both lost." Ciccu seated himself on the stone, and the horse went on to the courtyard of the castle, where he began to trot round in a graceful and elegant manner. Soon a crowd collected first to watch him and then to pat him, and the king and queen and princess came with the rest. The eyes of the fairest in the world brightened as she looked, and she sprang on the horse's saddle, crying, "Oh, I really must ride him a little!" But the horse made one bound forward, and the princess was forced to hold tight by his mane, lest she should fall off. And as they dashed past the stone where Ciccu was waiting for them, he swung himself up and held her round the waist. As he put his arms round her waist, the fairest in the world unwound the veil from her head and cast it to the ground, and then she drew a ring from her finger and flung it into the stream. But she said nothing, and they rode on fast, fast.
The king of Ciccu's country was watching for them from the top of a tower, and when he saw in the distance a cloud of dust, he ran down to the steps so as to be ready to receive them. Bowing low before the fairest in the world, he spoke: "Noble lady, will you do me the honour to become my wife?"
But she answered, "That can only be when Ciccu brings me the veil that I let fall on my way here."
And the king turned to Ciccu and said, "Ciccu, if you do not find the veil at once, you shall lose your head."
Ciccu, who by this time had hoped for a little peace, felt his heart sink at this fresh errand, and he went into the stable to complain to the faithful horse.
"It will be all right," answered the horse when he had heard his tale; "just take enough food for the day for both of us, and then get on my back."
They rode back all the way they had come till they reached the place where they had found the eagle caught in the snare; then the horse bade Ciccu to call three times on the king of the birds, and when he replied, to beg him to fetch the veil which the fairest in the world had let fall.
"Wait a moment," answered a voice that seemed to come from somewhere very high up indeed. "An eagle is playing with it just now, but he will be here with it in an instant;" and a few minutes after there was a sound of wings, and an eagle came fluttering towards them with the veil in his beak. And Ciccu saw it was the very same eagle that he had freed from the snare. So he took the veil and rode back to the king.
Now the king was enchanted to see him so soon, and took the veil from Ciccu and flung it over the princess, crying, "Here is the veil you asked for, so I claim you for my wife."
"Not so fast," answered she. "I can never be your wife till Ciccu puts on my finger the ring I threw into the stream. Ciccu, who was standing by expecting something of the sort, bowed his head when he heard her words, and went straight to the horse.
"Mount at once," said the horse; "this time it is very simple," and he carried Ciccu to the banks of the little stream. "Now, call three times on the emperor of the fishes, and beg him to restore you the ring that the princess dropped.
Ciccu did as the horse told him, and a voice was heard in answer that seemed to come from a very long way off.
"What is your will?" it asked; and Ciccu replied that he had been commanded to bring back the ring that the princess had flung away, as she rode past.
"A fish is playing with it just now," replied the voice; "however, you shall have it without delay."
And sure enough, very soon a little fish was seen rising to the surface with the lost ring in his mouth. And Ciccu knew him to be the fish that he had saved from death, and he took the ring and rode back with it to the king.
"That is not enough," exclaimed the princess when she saw the ring; "before we can be man and wife, the oven must be heated for three days and three nights, and Ciccu must jump in." And the king forgot how Ciccu had served him, and desired him to do as the princess had said.
This time Ciccu felt that no escape was possible, and he went to the horse and laid his hand on his neck. "Now it is indeed good-bye, and there is no help to be got even from you," and he told him what fate awaited him.
But the horse said, "Oh, never lose heart, but jump on my back, and make me go till the foam flies in flecks all about me. Then get down, and scrape off the foam with a knife. This you must rub all over you, and when you are quite covered, you may suffer yourself to be cast into the oven, for the fire will not hurt you, nor anything else." And Ciccu did exactly as the horse bade him, and went back to the king, and before the eyes of the fairest in the world he sprang into the oven.
And when the fairest in the world saw what he had done, love entered into her heart, and she said to the king, "One thing more: before I can be your wife, you must jump into the oven as Ciccu has done."
"Willingly," replied the king, stooping over the oven. But on the brink he paused a moment and called to Ciccu, "Tell me, Ciccu, how did you manage to prevent the fire burning you?"
Now Ciccu could not forgive his master, whom he had served so faithfully, for sending him to his death without a thought, so he answered, "I rubbed myself over with fat, and I am not even singed."
When he heard these words, the king, whose head was full of the princess, never stopped to inquire if they could be true, and smeared himself over with fat, and sprang into the oven. And in a moment the fire caught him, and he was burned up.
Then the fairest in the world held out her hand to Ciccu and smiled, saying, "Now we will be man and wife." So Ciccu married the fairest in the world, and became king of the country.
Catherine and Her Destiny
LONG AGO there lived a rich merchant who, besides possessing more treasures than any king in the world, had in his great hall three chairs, one of silver, one of gold, and one of diamonds. But his greatest treasure of all was his only daughter, who was called Catherine.One day Catherine was sitting in her own room when suddenly the door flew open, and in came a tall and beautiful woman holding in her hands a little wheel.
"Catherine," she said, going up to the girl, "which would you rather have-a happy youth or a happy old age?"
Catherine was so taken by surprise that she did not know what to answer, and the lady repeated again, "Which would you rather have-a happy youth or a happy old age?"
Then Catherine thought to herself, "If I say a happy youth, then I shall have to suffer all the rest of my life. No, I would bear trouble now, and have something better to look forward to." So she looked up and replied, "Give me a happy old age."
"So be it," said the lady, and turned her wheel as she spoke, vanishing the next moment as suddenly as she had come.
Now this beautiful lady was the Destiny of poor Catherine.
Only a few days after this the merchant heard the news that all his finest ships, laden with the richest merchandise, had been sunk in a storm, and he was left a beggar. The shock was too much for him. He took to his bed, and in a short time he was dead of his disappointment.
So poor Catherine was left alone in the world without a penny or a creature to help her. But she was a brave girl and full of spirit, and soon made up her mind that the best thing she could do was to go to the nearest town and become a servant. She lost no time in getting herself ready, and did not take long over her journey; and as she was passing down the chief street of the town a noble lady saw her out of the window, and, struck by her sad face, said to her: "Where are you going all alone, my pretty girl?"
"Ah, my lady, I am very poor, and must go to service to earn my bread."
"I will take you into my service," said she; and Catherine served her well.
Some time after her mistress said to Catherine, "I am obliged to go out for a long while, and must lock the house door, so that no thieves shall get in."
So she went away, and Catherine took her work and sat down at the window. Suddenly the door burst open, and in came her Destiny.
"Oh! so here you are, Catherine! Did you really think I was going to leave you in peace?" And as she spoke she walked to the linen press where Catherine's mistress kept all her finest sheets and underclothes, tore everything in pieces, and flung them on the floor. Poor Catherine wrung her hands and wept, for she thought to herself, "When my lady comes back and sees all this ruin she will think it is my fault," and starting up, she fled through the open door. Then Destiny took all the pieces and made them whole again, and put them back in the press, and when everything was tidy she too left the house.
When the mistress reached home she called Catherine, but no Catherine was there. "Can she have robbed me?" thought the old lady, and looked hastily round the house; but nothing was missing. She wondered why Catherine should have disappeared like this, but she heard no more of her, and in a few days she filled her place.
Meanwhile Catherine wandered on and on, without knowing very well where she was going, till at last she came to another town. Just as before, a noble lady happened to see her passing her window, and called out to her, "Where are you going all alone, my pretty girl?"
And Catherine answered, "Ah, my lady, I am very poor, and must go to service to earn my bread."
"I will take you into my service," said the lady; and Catherine served her well, and hoped she might now be left in peace. But, exactly as before, one day that Catherine was left in the house alone her Destiny came again and spoke to her with hard words: "What! are you here now?" And in a passion she tore up everything she saw, till in sheer misery poor Catherine rushed out of the house. And so it befell for seven years, and directly Catherine found a fresh place her Destiny came and forced her to leave it.
After seven years, however, Destiny seemed to get tired of persecuting her, and a time of peace set in for Catherine. When she had been chased away from her last house by Destiny's wicked pranks she had taken service with another lady, who told her that it would be part of her daily work to walk to a mountain that overshadowed the town, and, climbing up to the top, she was to lay on the ground some loaves of freshly baked bread, and cry with a loud voice, "O Destiny, my mistress," three times. Then her lady's Destiny would come and take away the offering. "That will I gladly do," said Catherine.
So the years went by, and Catherine was still there, and every day she climbed the mountain with her basket of bread on her arm. She was happier than she had been, but sometimes, when no one saw her, she would weep as she thought over her old life, and how different it was to the one she was now leading. One day her lady saw her, and said, "Catherine, what is it? Why are you always weeping?" And then Catherine told her story.
"I have got an idea," exclaimed the lady. "Tomorrow, when you take the bread to the mountain, you shall pray my Destiny to speak to yours, and entreat her to leave you in peace. Perhaps something may come of it!"
At these words Catherine dried her eyes, and next morning, when she climbed the mountain, she told all she had suffered, and cried, "O Destiny, my mistress, pray, I entreat you, of my Destiny that she may leave me in peace."
And Destiny answered, "Oh, my poor girl, know you not your Destiny lies buried under seven coverlids, and can hear nothing? But if you will come tomorrow I will bring her with me."
And after Catherine had gone her way her lady's Destiny went to find her sister, and said to her, "Dear sister, has not Catherine suffered enough? It is surely time for her good days to begin?"
And the sister answered, "Tomorrow you shall bring her to me, and I will give her something that may help her out of her need."
The next morning Catherine set out earlier than usual for the mountain, and her lady's Destiny took the girl by the hand and led her to her sister, who lay under the seven coverlids. And her Destiny held out to Catherine a ball of silk, saying, "Keep this—it may be useful some day;" then pulled the coverings over her head again.
But Catherine walked sadly down the hill, and went straight to her lady and showed her the silken ball, which was the end of all her high hopes.
"What shall I do with it?" she asked. "It is not worth sixpence, and it is no good to me!"
"Take care of it," replied her mistress. "Who can tell how useful it may be?"
A little while after this grand preparations were made for the king's marriage, and all the tailors in the town were busy embroidering fine clothes. The wedding garment was so beautiful nothing like it had ever been seen before, but when it was almost finished the tailor found that he had no more silk. The colour was very rare, and none could be found like it, and the king made a proclamation that if anyone happened to possess any they should bring it to the court, and he would give them a large sum.
"Catherine!" exclaimed the lady, who had been to the tailors and seen the wedding garment, "your ball of silk is exactly the right colour. Bring it to the king, and you can ask what you like for it."
Then Catherine put on her best clothes and went to the court, and looked more beautiful than any woman there.
"May it please your majesty," she said, "I have brought you a ball of silk of the colour you asked for, as no one else has any in the town."
"Your majesty," asked one of the courtiers, "Shall I give the maiden its weight in gold?"
The king agreed, and a pair of scales were brought; and a handful of gold was placed in one scale and the silken ball in the other. But lo! let the king lay in the scales as many gold pieces as he would, the silk was always heavier still. Then the king took some larger scales, and heaped up all his treasures on one side, but the silk on the other outweighed them all. At last there was only one thing left that had not been put in, and that was his golden crown. And he took it from his head and set it on top of all, and at last the scale moved and the ball had founds its balance.
"Where got you this silk?" asked the king.
"It was given me, royal majesty, by my mistress," replied Catherine.
"That is not true," said the king, "and if you do not tell me the truth I will have your head cut off this instant."
So Catherine told him the whole story, and how she had once been as rich as he.
Now there lived at the court a wise woman, and she said to Catherine, "You have suffered much, my poor girl, but at length your luck has turned, and I know by the weighing of the scales through the crown that you will die a queen."
"So she shall," cried the king, who overheard these words; "She shall die my queen, for she is more beautiful than all the ladies of the court, and I will marry no one else."
And so it fell out. The king sent back the bride he had promised to wed to her own country, and the same Catherine was queen at the marriage feast instead, and lived happy and contented to the end of her life.
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