Italian Folktales (87 page)

When the bottle was returned to him, he checked at once to see what had caught on the fishbone. Just imagine the expression on his face when he beheld a napoleon!

He went to his brother right away. “Tell me who gave you that money!” And the farmer told him. The cobbler then said to him, “Brother, you just have to take me to that place too! I have children to support, and need money worse than you do!”

So the two brothers took two pack animals and four sacks to the tree and said, “Open up, oak!” They filled up their sacks and left. Back home, they divided up the gold, diamonds, and napoleons, and now had ample means to live comfortably. Therefore they said to each other, “We are well fixed now. Let's not even think of returning to that place, if we don't want to lose our life!”

Though the cobbler had agreed, he couldn't resist deceiving his brother and going back one more time by himself to plunder, since he was the kind of man who never got enough. He went and waited for the bandits to emerge from the oak, but he failed to count them when they went off. He paid for his folly: instead of thirteen, only twelve came out; one stayed behind to keep watch, since they had realized someone was coming into the cave and robbing them. The bandit leaped out, taking the cobbler by surprise, butchered him like a pig, and strung him up on two branches.

When he failed to come home, his wife went to the farmer. “Dear brother-in-law, I know something bad has happened! Your brother went to that oak tree again and hasn't come back!”

The farmer waited until nighttime and went to the oak. Strung up on the branches was the quartered body of his brother. He untied it, loaded it onto his donkey, and carried it home to a wailing wife and children. So as not to bury him quartered, they called in one of his fellow cobblers to sew him back together.

The cobbler's widow, with all the money left her, bought a tavern and became a tavern-keeper.

Meanwhile the bandits were going about town in search of the person who had inherited the money. One went to the cobbler who had sewn the body back together and said to him, “Friend, could you stitch up this shoe a bit?”

“Are you joking?” he asked. “I stitched up a shoe-mender. Do you think I couldn't sew up a shoe?”

“Who was this mender of shoes?”

“A fellow cobbler who had been completely quartered. The husband of the tavern-keeper.”

So the bandits learned that the tavern-keeper was the one to profit from the stolen riches. They got a large cask, and eleven of them hid inside. The cask was put on a cart, and the other two drew it along the street. They stopped at the tavern and said, “Good lady, will you let us leave this cask here for the time being? And will you feed us?”

“Make yourselves comfortable,” replied the tavern-keeper, and put on macaroni for the two carters. Meanwhile the daughter, who was playing nearby, heard noise inside the cask. She listened closely and heard, “Now we'll take care of this woman!” The girl jumped up and ran to tell her mother. In a split second the woman grabbed up a kettle of boiling water and dashed it into the cask, scalding the bandits to death. Then she went and served the other two macaroni. She poured out drugged wine for them and, when they fell asleep, cut off their heads. “Now go for the judge,” she told her daughter.

The judge arrived, recognized the thirteen bandits, and rewarded the tavern-keeper for crushing such lawlessness.

 

(
Basilicata
)

138

A man with three sons died of illness. The three sons became three orphans. One day the oldest announced: “Brothers, I am leaving home and going out to seek my fortune.” He came to a city and began crying out in the streets:

 

“Whoever would have me as his helper,

Him do I want for a master!”

 

An important gentleman appeared on a balcony. “If we can reach an agreement,” he said, “I'll take you on as a helper.”

“Fine, offer me whatever you wish.”

“But I expect obedience.”

“In all things will I obey you.”

Next morning the gentleman called the boy and said, “Take this letter, mount this horse, and away. But never touch the reins, for if you do, the horse will turn back. You have only to let him gallop, for he knows the way to the place where you are to deliver the letter.”

He mounted and rode off. On and on he galloped, coming at length to the edge of a deep ravine. I'll surely go plunging down there! thought the orphan and pulled on the reins. The horse wheeled about and was back at the palace in a flash.

Seeing him back, the master said, “So you didn't go where I sent you! You are dismissed. Go over to that pile of money, take as much as you like, and get out.”

The orphan filled his pockets and was off. As he stepped outside, he fell straight down into Hell.

As for the other two orphans, when their big brother failed to return, the second oldest also decided to leave home. He took the same road, came to the same city, and he too proceeded to cry:

 

“Whoever would have me as his helper,

Him do I want for a master!”

 

The gentleman came out and called to him. They made a bargain, and next morning the boy was given the same instructions as his brother and sent off with the letter. He too pulled on the reins as soon as he came to the edge of the ravine, and the horse turned back. “Now,” said the master, “take as much money as you like and get out!” He filled his pockets and left. He went out and straight down to Hell.

When neither one brother nor the other returned, the little brother also left home. He traveled the same road, came to the same city, cried, “Whoever would have me as his helper, him do I want for a master.” The gentleman appeared, invited him in, and said, “I offer you money, food, and whatever you want, on condition that you obey me.”

The orphan consented, and next morning the master gave him the letter and all the instructions. When he got to that drop-off of the road, the boy looked straight down the rocky precipice and felt his flesh creep, but he thought to himself, God help me!, closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, he was already on the other side.

On and on he galloped and came to a river as wide as a sea. He though, What choice do I have if I really must drown? All the same, God help me! At that, the water divided, and he crossed the river.

On and on he galloped and came to a swollen stream of blood-red
water. He thought, Here's where I drown for sure. All the same, God help me! He plunged into the stream, and the water divided before the horse.

On and on he galloped and came to a forest so thick that not even a little bird might fly through it. Here I'm doomed, thought the orphan, but so is the horse. God help me! and he galloped onward into the forest.

In the forest he came upon an old man sawing on a tree with a blade of wheat. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked him. “Do you expect to cut down a tree with a blade of wheat?”

“One more word out of you, and I'll also cut your head off.”

The orphan galloped away.

He rode and rode and came to an arch of fire, with a lion on each side. “I'll surely get burned going through there, but so will the horse. Forward, with God's help!”

On and on he galloped and came upon a woman kneeling on a stone and praying. At that point the horse drew to a sudden halt. The orphan realized that the letter was for the lady and gave it to her. She opened and read it, then scooped up a handful of sand and threw it into the air. The orphan remounted his horse and took the way back.

Upon his return, the master, who was the Lord, said to him, “The ravine, mind you, is the chute into Hell; the water, the tears of my mother; the blood, the blood of my five wounds; the forest, the thorns of my crown; the man sawing the tree with the blade of wheat, Death; the fiery arch, Hell; the two lions are your brothers, and the kneeling lady is my mother. You obeyed me. Take all the money you want from that pile of gold.”

The orphan wanted nothing, but ended up taking a single gold coin, and thus left the Lord.

The next day he went shopping and spent the coin, but he always found it in his pocket and lived happily ever afterward.

 

(
Calabria
)

 

139

There was once a king and queen who had no children, which made the whole court as sad as if it had been in mourning. The queen prayed night and day, but no longer knew which saint to turn to, for they all turned a deaf ear to her. Finally one day she prayed this prayer: “Blessed Mother, help me to have a daughter even if she should have to die at fifteen from pricking her finger on a spindle!”

Lo and behold, she began expecting a child, and the loveliest of baby girls was born to her. They had a grand christening and named her Carol. Nobody on earth was happier than the king and queen over the blessing they had received.

The child grew by leaps and bounds and became ever more graceful. When she was almost fifteen, the queen recalled the vow she had made. She told the king, whose grief was indescribable. Right away he issued an order for all the spindles throughout the kingdom to be destroyed. Anyone in whose house a spindle was found would be beheaded without fail. Those persons who earned their living with a spindle were to go to the king, and he would then support them. Not satisfied with his proclamation, the king had his daughter locked up in her room for greater security, and ordered that she was to see no one at all.

Alone in her room, Carol entertained herself by looking out the window. Now there was an old woman living across the street. One knows how some old people are: they get so wrapped up in themselves they can't for the life of them think of anything else. This old woman had kept a spindle and a wad of cotton wool, and whenever the mood struck her, she would spin a while on the sly.

Spinning at the window to get a little sun, the old woman caught the attention of the king's daughter. Carol had never before seen anybody make such strange movements with their hands, and her curiosity was aroused. “Ma'am! Oh, ma'am!” she called. “What are you doing there?”

“I'm spinning this teensy wad of cotton wool, but don't you tell a soul!”

“May I try to spin a little myself?”

“Of course, dear. Just don't let anyone see you doing it!”

“All right, ma'am, I'll let a little basket down into the street, and you put those things in the basket, where you'll find a present for yourself.”

So she let a purse of money down to the old woman and pulled up the spindle and cotton wool. As happy as happy could be, she tried to spin.
She spun the first thread, then the second, but the third time the spindle slipped and the point stuck in her right thumb under the nail. The maiden fell to the floor, dead.

When the king knocked at his daughter's door and got no answer, he tried the door and found it bolted from the inside (she'd locked it so she wouldn't be caught spinning). Then he had it broken down and saw Carol lying lifeless on the floor next to the spindle.

There are no words to describe the grief of the king and queen. Poor dear, as beautiful as the girl had always been, she looked as though she were only sleeping; nor did her face even grow cold. She just didn't breathe any more, nor did her heart beat any longer, as though a spell had been cast over her.

Her poor father and mother stood at her bedside for weeks on end, hoping she would come back to life.

They couldn't believe she was dead, and so they refused to bury her. They had a castle built on a mountaintop with no door, but only a window high up from the ground. Inside they laid their daughter on a wide bed surmounted by a canopy embroidered in gold and full of flowers, and they dressed her in her bridal dress, which had seven skirts with silver bells. After placing one last kiss on that face as fresh as a rose, they left the castle by a door that was immediately walled up.

One day long after that, another king, who was young and had been left an orphan with his queen mother, was out hunting in those parts, and chance led him right up to that castle. “What can it be?” he wondered. “A castle with no doors and only one window? What on earth is it?” The dogs ran around the castle and wouldn't stop barking, while the young man was dying of curiosity to know what was inside. But how was he to get in? The next day he returned with a rope ladder, which he threw up to the window and thus managed to climb inside.

At the sight of the maiden lying among the flowers with her face as fresh and beautiful as a rose, he almost swooned away. He got hold of himself, eased up to the bed, reached out and touched her forehead, discovering it was still warm. So she's not dead! he thought, unable to take his eyes off her. He stayed there until night, expecting her to awaken any minute, but she didn't awaken. He returned the next day too, and the next; by then he couldn't bear to be away from her so much as an hour. He kissed her repeatedly and all but devoured her with his eyes. In short, he was in love with her, and the queen mother couldn't imagine what was eating her son and keeping him away from home all the time.