A few months after this, the huntsman found a gold mortar, and wished to present it to the prince. But his daughter said: "You will be laughed at for this present. You will see that the prince will say to you: "The mortar is fine and good, but, peasant, where is the pestle?"" The father did not listen to his daughter; but when he carried the mortar to the prince, he was greeted as his daughter had foretold. "My daughter told me so," said the huntsman. "Ah! if I had only listened to her!" The prince heard these words and said to him: "Your daughter, who pretends to be so wise, must make me a hundred ells of cloth out of four ounces of flax; if she does not I will hang you and her." The poor father returned home weeping, and sure that he and his daughter must die, for who could make a hundred ells of cloth with four ounces of flax. His daughter came out to meet him, and when she learned why he was weeping, said: "Is that all you are weeping for? Quick, get me the flax and I will manage it." She made four small cords of the flax and said to her father: "Take these cords and tell him that when he makes me a loom out of these cords I will weave the hundred ells of cloth." When the prince heard this answer he did not know what to say, and thought no more about condemning the father or the daughter.
The next day he went to the wood to visit the girl. Her mother was dead, and her father was out in the fields digging. The prince knocked, but no one opened. He knocked louder, but the same thing. The young girl was deaf to him. Finally, tired of waiting, he broke open the door and entered: "Rude girl! who taught you not to open to one of my rank? Where are your father and mother?" "Who knew it was you? My father is where he should be and my mother is weeping for her sins. You must leave, for I have something else to do than listen to you." The prince went away in anger and complained to the father of his daughter"s rude manners, but the father excused her. The prince, at last seeing how wise and cunning she was, married her.
The wedding was celebrated with great splendor, but an event happened which came near plunging the princess into misfortune. One Sunday two peasants were pa.s.sing a church; one of them had a hand-cart and the other was leading a she-a.s.s ready to foal. The bell rang for ma.s.s and they both entered the church, one leaving his cart outside and the other tying the a.s.s to the cart. While they were in the church the a.s.s foaled, and the owner of the a.s.s and the owner of the cart both claimed the colt. They appealed to the prince, and he decided that the colt belonged to the owner of the cart, because, he said, it was more likely that the owner of the a.s.s would tie her to the cart in order to lay a false claim to the colt than that the owner of the cart would tie it to the a.s.s.
The owner of the a.s.s had right on his side, and all the people were in his favor, but the prince had p.r.o.nounced sentence and there was nothing to say. The poor man then applied to the princess, who advised him to cast a net in the square when the prince pa.s.sed. When the prince saw the net, he said: "What are you doing, you fool? Do you expect to find fish in the square?" The peasant, who had been advised by the princess, answered: "It is easier for me to find fish in the square than for a cart to have foals." The prince revoked the sentence, but when he returned to the palace, knowing that the princess had suggested the answer to the peasant, he said to her: "Prepare to return to your own home within an hour. Take with you what you like best and depart." She was not at all saddened by the prospect, but ate a better dinner than usual, and made the prince drink a bottle of wine in which she had put a sleeping potion; and when he was as sound asleep as a log, she had him put in a carriage and took him with her to her house in the wood. It was in January, and she had the roof of the house uncovered and it snowed on the prince, who awoke and called his servants: "What do you wish?" said the princess. "I command here. Did you not tell me to take from your house the thing I liked best? I have taken you, and now you are mine."
The prince laughed and they made peace.[27]
The next story is the Italian version of the tale familiar to the readers of Grimm by the t.i.tle of "Doctor Knowall." There is a Sicilian version in Pitre, No. 167, in which our story forms one of several episodes. It is found, however, independently in the Mantuan collection from which we take it, changing the name slightly to suit the conclusion of the story.
CIX. CRAB.
There was once a king who had lost a valuable ring. He looked for it everywhere, but could not find it. So he issued a proclamation that if any astrologer could tell him where it was he would be richly rewarded.
A poor peasant by the name of Crab heard of the proclamation. He could neither read nor write, but took it into his head that he wanted to be the astrologer to find the king"s ring. So he went and presented himself to the king, to whom he said: "Your Majesty must know that I am an astrologer, although you see me so poorly dressed. I know that you have lost a ring and I will try by study to find out where it is." "Very well," said the king, "and when you have found it, what reward must I give you?" "That is at your discretion, your Majesty." "Go, then, study, and we shall see what kind of an astrologer you turn out to be."
He was conducted to a room, in which he was to be shut up to study. It contained only a bed and a table on which were a large book and writing materials. Crab seated himself at the table and did nothing but turn over the leaves of the book and scribble the paper so that the servants who brought him his food thought him a great man. They were the ones who had stolen the ring, and from the severe glances that the peasant cast at them whenever they entered, they began to fear that they would be found out. They made him endless bows and never opened their mouths without calling him "Mr. Astrologer." Crab, who, although illiterate, was, as a peasant, cunning, all at once imagined that the servants must know about the ring, and this is the way his suspicions were confirmed.
He had been shut up in his room turning over his big book and scribbling his paper for a month, when his wife came to visit him. He said to her: "Hide yourself under the bed, and when a servant enters, say: "That is one;" when another comes, say: "That is two;" and so on." The woman hid herself. The servants came with the dinner, and hardly had the first one entered when a voice from under the bed said: "That is one." The second one entered; the voice said: "That is two;" and so on. The servants were frightened at hearing that voice, for they did not know where it came from, and held a consultation. One of them said: "We are discovered; if the astrologer denounces us to the king as thieves, we are lost." "Do you know what we must do?" said another. "Let us hear." "We must go to the astrologer and tell him frankly that we stole the ring, and ask him not to betray us, and present him with a purse of money. Are you willing?" "Perfectly."
So they went in harmony to the astrologer, and making him a lower bow than usual, one of them began: "Mr. Astrologer, you have discovered that we stole the ring. We are poor people and if you reveal it to the king, we are undone. So we beg you not to betray us, and accept this purse of money." Crab took the purse and then added: "I will not betray you, but you must do what I tell you, if you wish to save your lives. Take the ring and make that turkey in the court-yard swallow it, and leave the rest to me." The servants were satisfied to do so and departed with a low bow. The next day Crab went to the king and said to him: "Your Majesty must know that after having toiled over a month I have succeeded in discovering where the ring has gone to." "Where is it, then?" asked the king. "A turkey has swallowed it." "A turkey? very well, let us see."
They went for the turkey, opened it, and found the ring inside. The king, amazed, presented the astrologer with a large purse of money and invited him to a banquet. Among the other dishes, there was brought on the table a plate of crabs. Crabs must then have been very rare, because only the king and a few others knew their name. Turning to the peasant the king said: "You, who are an astrologer, must be able to tell me the name of these things which are in this dish." The poor astrologer was very much puzzled, and, as if speaking to himself, but in such a way that the others heard him, he muttered: "Ah! Crab, Crab, what a plight you are in!" All who did not know that his name was Crab rose and proclaimed him the greatest astrologer in the world.[28]
NOTES.
INTRODUCTION.
[1] There are some popular tales, chiefly Oriental in their origin, in the _Cente novelle antiche_ (see the notes to Chapter III.), and Boccaccio and his imitators undoubtedly made use of popular material.
These popular elements, however, are almost exclusively of the cla.s.s of jests. The fairy tale, which const.i.tutes by far the largest and most important cla.s.s of popular tales, is not found in European literature until Straparola. For a few earlier traces of fairy tales in mediaeval literature, see an article by the writer, "Two Mediaeval Folk-Tales," in the _Germania_, XVIII. [New Series], p. 203.
[2] The little that is known of Straparola and a very complete bibliography of his _Piacevoli Notti_ will be found in an excellent monograph ent.i.tled, _Giovan Francesco Straparola da Caravaggio_, Inaugural-Dissertation von F. W. J. Brakelmann aus Soest, Gottingen, 1867. Straparola"s work, especially the unexpurgated editions, is scarce, and the student will ordinarily be obliged to consult it in the French translation of Louveau and Larivey, of which there is an excellent edition in the _Bibliotheque Elzevirienne_ of P. Jannet, Paris, 1857. There is a German translation with valuable notes of the _marchen_ contained in the _Piacevoli Notti_ by F. W. Val. Schmidt, Berlin, 1817. Schmidt used, without knowing it, an expurgated edition, and translated eighteen instead of twenty-two popular tales.
[3] The reader will find all the necessary references to Straparola"s borrowed materials in Liebrecht"s translation of Dunlop"s History of Fiction, pp. 283, 493; in Brakelmann"s dissertation above cited; in the French version in the _Bib. Elzevir._; and in Grimm, II. 477.
[4] A comparison of Straparola"s tales with those of Grimm, and an a.n.a.lysis of those lacking in Schmidt"s translation, will be found in Grimm, II. 477-481.
[5] The imitations of Straparola will be found in Dunlop-Liebrecht, p.
284. It is impossible to say with absolute certainty that Perrault borrowed his "_Chat Botte_" and "_Peau d"Ane_" from Straparola. It is, however, quite likely. Perrault"s stories appeared 1694-97, and twelve editions of the French translation of Straparola had been issued before that date.
[6] The few details of Basile"s life will be found in Grimm, II. 481, Liebrecht"s translation, II. p. 316, and Taylor"s translation, p. v. An article in a recent number of the periodical named from Basile, vol. II.
p. 17, gives the conflicting testimony of a number of Italian writers as to Basile"s birth and death. The writer has discovered a mention of Basile"s burial in the church of St. Sophia at Giugliano, near Naples, and in a record of deaths kept in the same town, an entry stating that Basile died there on the 23d of February, 1632. The following are all the editions of which I can find mention: Naples, 1637, 8vo, 1644, 12mo, 1645, 1674, 1694 (Graesse), 1697 (Pitre), 1714, 1722, 1728, 1747, 1749 (Liebrecht), 1788, _Collezione di Tutti i Poemi_, etc.; Rome, 1679, 1797 (Pitre). Italian translations appeared at Naples in 1754, 1769, 1784, and 1863, and in Bolognese at Bologna, 1742, 1813, 1872, and at Venice in 1813. The editions used in the preparation of this work will be found in the Bibliography. In spite of the numerous editions above cited, the _Pentamerone_ is a very scarce work, and the scholar will usually have to content himself with Liebrecht"s excellent translation. Thirty-one of the fifty stories have been admirably translated by John Edward Taylor, London, 1848, 1850. The _Pentamerone_ suffered the same fate as the _Piacevoli Notti_. It was not known, for instance, in Germany, until Fernow described it in his _Romische Studien_, Zurich, 1808, vol. III.
pp. 316, 475, although Wieland had taken the material for his "Pervonte"
from the third story of the first day.
[7] The frame of the _Pentamerone_ is the story of the "False Bride:"
see Gonz., Nos. 11, 12; Pitre, No. 13; Imbriani, "_"E Sette Mane-Mozze_;" and Hahn, Nos. 12, 49. Grimm, II. p. 483, gives the stories in the _Pent._ which have parallels among his own _Kinder- und Hausmarchen_. The notes to Liebrecht"s translation are to be supplemented by the same author"s additional notes in his translation of Dunlop, p. 515.
[8] This story is usually printed with Perrault"s tales, but its author was really Mlle. Lheritier. See the latest edition of Perrault"s tales, _Les Contes de Charles Perrault_, par Andre Lefevre, Paris, Lemerre, 1875, p. xli.
[9] See Dunlop-Liebrecht, p. 408 _et seq._; and Grimm, II. p. 489 _et seq._
[10] References to four of the five stories will be found as follows: I., Pitre, vol. IV. pp. 372, 375; II., Pitre, _ibid._ p. 381; III., _Nov. fior._ pp. 93, 112, Pitre, No. 36; V., Pitre, vol. IV. p. 391. The two editions of Naples, 1684 and 1751, are extremely scarce and the student will be obliged to have recourse to the edition of 1789, contained in the _Collezione di tutti li poeti in lingua Napoletana_.
[11] Pitre, vol. I. p. xliii., mentions some other names, as, _rumanzi_ by the inhabitants of Termini, and _pugaret_ by the Albanian colonists.
To these may be added another Milanese appellation, _panzanega_.
[12] Other endings are given by Imbriani, _Pomiglianesi_, p. 129:--
Cuccurucu, No" noe n" cchiu.
(Cuccurucu, there is no more.)
Cuccurucu.
Sa" "o vuo" cchiu bello, t" o dice tu.
(Cuccurucu, if you want it finer, tell it yourself.) See also Pitre, vol. I. p. 196, note 2. The most curious introductions and endings are those in De Nino, _Usi e Costumi abruzzesi_, vol. III. There is no general formula, but each _fiaba_ has one of its own. Some are meaningless jingles, but others are quite extensive poems on religious subjects. Among these may be found legends of various saints, St.
Nicholas, p. 335, etc.
[13] An interesting article might be written on the Italian story-tellers, generally illiterate women, from whose lips the stories in the modern collections have been taken down. Some details may be found in Pitre, vol. I. p. xvii. (repeated in Ralston"s article in _Fraser"s Magazine_).
[14] Any attempt at an explanation of these facts would lead into the vexed question of the origin and diffusion of popular tales in general.
We cannot refrain, however, from calling attention to a remark by Nerucci in the preface to his _Nov. pop. montalesi_, p. v. He thinks that the Italian popular tale will be found to have much the same origin as the Italian popular poetry, that is, that very much is of a literary origin which has usually been deemed popular. This is undoubtedly true of many stories; but may not two versions of a given story, a popular and a literary one, have had a source common to both? A very interesting study might be made of the Italian popular tales in their relation to literary versions which may be the originals.
The most valuable contributions to the question of the origin of Italian popular tales are those by Pitre in the first volume of his _Fiabe_, pp.
xli.-cxlv., and in the same author"s _Nov. pop. tosc._ pp. v.-x.x.xviii.
CHAPTER I.
FAIRY TALES.
[1] This story is a variant of Pitre, No. 17, _Marvizia_ (the name of the heroine who was as small as a _marva_, the mallow plant), in which the introduction is wanting. The heroine falls in love with a green bird she sees in her garden, and goes in search of it. After many adventures, she restores the bird to its former human shape and marries it. Other Italian versions of the story in the text are: Sicilian, Pitre, No.
281, _Nuovo Saggio_, V.; Gonz., No. 15; Neapolitan, _Pent._ II. 9, V. 4; Comp., No. 33 (from the Basilicata); Roman, Busk, p. 99; Tuscan, De Gub., _Sto. Stefano_, No. 14; and Tyrolese, Schneller, No. 13.
An important trait in the above cla.s.s is "Tasks set Wife." Besides in the above stories, this trait is also found in those belonging to other cla.s.ses: see De Gub., _Sto. Stefano_, No. 2, and _Nov. fior._ p. 209.
Another important trait is the following: When after a long search the wife discovers her husband, it is only to find him in the power of a second wife, who, however, by various bribes, is induced to permit the first wife to spend a night in her husband"s chamber. She is unable to awaken her husband, who has been drugged by the second wife. The third night she succeeds, makes herself known to him, and they escape. As an example of this trait, we give in full De Gub., _Sto. Stefano_, No. 14, referred to above.
XX. SIR FIORANTE, MAGICIAN.
A woodman had three daughters. Every morning one after the other, in turn, carried him his bread to the wood. The father and the daughters noticed in a thicket a large snake, which one day asked the old man for one of his daughters in marriage, threatening him with death if none of them would accept such an offer. The father told his daughters of the snake"s offer, and the first and second immediately refused. If the third had refused too, there would have been no hope of salvation for the father; but for his sake she declared at once that snakes had always pleased her, and she thought the snake proposed by her father very handsome. At this the snake shook his tail in token of great joy, and making his bride mount it, carried her away to the midst of a beautiful meadow, where he caused a splendid palace to arise while he himself became a handsome man, and revealed himself as Sir Fiorante with the red and white stockings. But woe to her if she ever disclosed to any one his existence and name! She would lose him forever, unless, to obtain possession of him again, she wore out a pair of iron shoes, a staff and a hat, and filled with her tears seven bottles. The maiden promised; but she was a woman; she went to visit her sisters; one of them wished to know her husband"s name, and was so cunning that at last her sister told her, but when the poor girl went back to see her husband, she found neither husband nor palace. To find him again, she was obliged in despair to do penance. She walked and walked and walked, and wept unceasingly. She had already filled one bottle with tears, when she met an old woman who gave her a fine walnut to crack in time of need, and disappeared. When she had filled four bottles, she met another old woman, who gave her a hazel-nut to crack in time of need, and disappeared. She had filled all seven bottles when a third old woman appeared to her, and left her an almond to be cracked in a third case of need, and she, too, disappeared. At last the young girl reached the castle of Sir Fiorante, who had taken another wife. The girl broke first the walnut, and found in it a beautiful dress which the second wife wanted herself. The young girl said: "You may have it if you will let me sleep with Sir Fiorante." The second wife consented, but meanwhile she gave Sir Fiorante some opium. In the night, the young girl said: "Sir Fiorante with the red and white stockings, I have worn out a pair of iron shoes, the staff and the hat, and filled seven bottles with tears, wherefore you must recognize your first wife."
He made no answer, for he had taken opium. The next day the girl opened the hazel-nut, and out came a dress more beautiful than the first; Sir Fiorante"s second wife wanted this, and obtained it on the same condition as the first, but took care that Sir Fiorante should take some opium before going to bed. The third day, a faithful servant asked Sir Fiorante if he had not heard in the night the cries that were uttered near him. Sir Fiorante replied, No, but was careful not to take any opium the third night, when, having broken the almond and found in it a dress of unapproachable beauty, the young girl obtained the second wife"s consent to sleep anew with Sir Fiorante. The latter pretended this time to take the opium, but did not. Then he feigned to be asleep, but remained awake in order to hear the cries of his abandoned wife, which he could not resist, and began to embrace her. The next day they left that palace to the second wife, and departed together and went to live in happiness at another more wonderful castle.