“The ladies-in-waiting were at a window, and at the sight of this marvel they ran to call Vastolla, the king’s daughter. She looked out the window and as she watched the caracoles of a pile of kindling and the leaps of a bundle of firewood she burst out laughing, whereas due to her natural state of melancholy no one could remember her ever having laughed. When Peruonto raised his head and saw that he was being made fun of, he said, ‘Go on, then, Vastolla; may you become pregnant by this fellow!’ That said, he gave the bundle of kindling a good spur with his boots, and at a wooden gallop8 he arrived home almost immediately, with so many little kids in tow taunting and shrieking at him that if his mother hadn’t been quick to close the door behind him they would have killed him to the blows of citrons and broccoli.
“But after Vastolla stopped getting her period and started feeling certain cravings and palpitations of the heart, she realized that she had swallowed the dough.9 She hid her pregnancy for as long as she could, but when her belly, which had swollen up like a little keg, could no longer be hidden, the king realized what was going on. He did things that were out of this world, then called his council and told them, ‘You already know that the moon of my honor has given me horns;10 you already know that my daughter has supplied me with ample material for the inkwell11 that will be used to write the chronicles, or should I say hornicles of my disgrace; you already know that she has laden her stomach in order to lade my forehead. And so tell me what you think; counsel me. I would be of the mind to make her deliver her soul before she gives birth to bad stock; I would be of the mood to make her feel the pain of death before the pangs of birth; I would be of the whim to cut off her buds and uproot her from this world before she can bud and produce seeds.’
“The counselors, who had consumed more oil than wine, said, ‘She truly deserves great punishment, and the horn that she has planted on your forehead should be used to make the handle of the knife that takes her life. But no; if we kill her now that she’s pregnant, that reckless one will slip through the broken link: he, that is, who has armed your right horn and your left so as to place you in the middle of a battle of displeasures; he who has put before you a Cornelius Tacitus so as to instruct you in the politics of Tiberius;12 he who has performed for you a dream of true infamy and made it exit from the door of horn.13 Let us wait, then, until she reaches port and we are able to determine where the root of this shame lies, and then we will reflect and decide, with a grain of salt, what we need to do.’ This advice set well with the king, who saw that they spoke in orderly and proper fashion. And thus he stayed his hand and said, ‘Let us await the outcome of this business.’
“As the heavens willed, the hour of the birth arrived. With four tiny little labor pains and at the first puff in the jar,14 the first words of the midwife, and the first cramping of her belly, Vastolla dumped into the other woman’s lap two hefty baby boys who looked like two golden apples. The king, pregnant himself but with rage, called his counselors so that he too could deliver, and said, ‘All right, my child has had her children; now it’s time to help her along with a beating.’ ‘No,’ said those old sages (and it was all to take as much time as possible), ‘let us wait until the little darlings get bigger, so that we can recognize their father’s appearance in them.’
“O Vastolla, và, che puozze deventare prena de sto fusto!” [“Go on, then, Vastolla; may you become pregnant by this fellow!”]
“The king would not produce a verse without the guidelines of his council, out of fear of writing crooked, and so he shrugged his shoulders, kept calm, and waited until the boys were seven years old, at which time the counselors were once again encouraged to strike at the trunk and what was attached to it. One of them said, ‘Since you haven’t been able to get your daughter to take off her stockings and tell you with her own tongue who the counterfeiter is that used your image to tamper with your crown, we will now get rid of this stain. Order, then, that a great banquet be prepared and that every noble and gentleman of the city come. We will pay close attention and keep our eyes on the cutting board15 so that we can see who the children, pushed by Nature, turn to most willingly, for he will without a doubt be their father, and we’ll wipe him up like a bit of crow shit.’
“The king was pleased with this opinion. He ordered the banquet to be held and invited everyone who wore a cloak and was of any account, and when they had all eaten, he had them stand in a line, and the little boys passed before them. But the boys paid as much attention to them as Alexander’s hound to rabbits,16 so that the king stormed and bit his lips. And although there was no lack of footwear, the shoe was too tight for him and he stamped his feet on the ground in pain. But the counselors said to him, ‘Calm down, your majesty, and listen to us: tomorrow we’ll have another banquet, not for important people but for lower-class types. And since women always attach themselves to the worst, perhaps, seeing as we didn’t find him among the gentlemen, we will find the seed of your rage among the cutlers, street vendors, and comb sellers.’
“This reasoning appealed to the king, and he commanded that a second banquet be held to which, as per proclamation, all the idiots, tramps, rogues, scoundrels, bad boys, thugs, good-for-nothings, ragamuffins, rascals, corpse strippers,17 and everyone in the city who wore aprons and wooden shoes were to come. And when they were all seated like so many fine counts at a long, long table, they began to stuff themselves.
“Now Ceccarella, who had heard this proclamation, began to prod Peruonto, telling him that he, too, should go to the festivities. And she kept it up until he set off for the banquet, where he had barely arrived when those lovely little boys attached themselves to him like ticks and showered him with hugs and kisses beyond all measure. When the king saw this he tore out his whole beard, for he realized that the bean in this cake,18 the winning ticket in this lottery, had gone to a hideous monster the mere sight of whom brought on nausea and vomiting. Besides having a shaggy head, the eyes of an owl, the nose of a parrot, and the mouth of a grouper fish, he was barefoot and so ragged that even without reading Fioravante you could inspect his secret parts.19
“After a gloomy sigh, the king said, ‘What did this sow of my daughter see that made her fancy this sea monster? What did she see that made her take to her heels with this hairy-foot? O shameless, blinded, false girl! What sort of metamorphoses are these? Becoming a cow on account of a pig so that I’m turned into a sheep? What are we waiting for? Why are we deliberating? Let her receive the punishment that she deserves; let her receive the penalty that you judge to be fit. Take her away from me, for I can’t stomach her.’ The counselors thus convened and concluded that she, together with the wrongdoer and their children, should be thrown into a barrel and cast out to sea so that their lives would come to an end without the king’s having to dirty his hands with their blood.
“No sooner was this sentence issued than the barrel appeared, into which all four of them were stuffed. But before it was sealed some of Vastolla’s ladies-in-waiting, crying and sobbing, placed a cask of raisins and dried figs in the barrel to keep them alive for a little while. And then, when it was closed, the barrel was taken and thrown into the sea, where it floated in whatever direction the wind carried it.
“In the meantime Vastolla, crying and making two torrential streams of her eyes, said to Peruonto, ‘What a great misfortune to have Bacchus’s cradle as our grave! Oh, if at least I knew who had trafficked with this body of mine so that it would be thrown into this container! Alas, I find my life tapped, without knowing why! Tell me, tell me, O cruel one, what sort of spell did you cast, and with what sort of wand, to close me inside the hoops of this barrel? Tell me, tell me, what sort of demon tempted you to put an invisible spigot in me, so that the only crack I have to look out of is this wretched hole?’
“Peruonto, who had been listening all the while with the ears of a merchant, finally answered, ‘If you want me to tell you give me raisins and figs.’ Vastolla fed him a handful of one an
d the other so that she could get something out of him. And as soon as his gullet was full he told her, point by point, what had happened with the three young men, then with the bundle of kindling, and finally with her at the window, when she had treated him like a fat-bellied buffoon and gotten her own belly filled for it. Upon hearing this the poor young lady took heart and said to Peruonto, ‘My brother, do we want our lives to burst inside this barrel? Why don’t you turn this vessel into a lovely ship so that we can flee danger and sail to a secure port?’ And Peruonto replied, ‘Give me raisins and figs if you want me to do that.’ Vastolla was all ready and immediately filled his throat so that he would open it wide, and like a fisherwoman at Carnival20 she fished fresh words from his mouth with the raisins and dried figs.
“As soon as Peruonto had said what Vastolla wanted him to, the barrel turned into a boat, complete with all the riggings necessary to sail and all the sailors needed to service the vessel. And you could see one pulling the sheet, one rolling up the shrouds, one manning the helm, one tending to the sail, one climbing up to the crow’s-nest, one shouting, ‘Luff the helm!’ and another, ‘Bear up!’ one playing a trumpet, one firing a battery, one doing one thing and one another.
“Vastolla was swimming in a sea of sweetness aboard the ship, and since it was already the hour when the Moon liked to play with the Sun at ‘You Came and You Went, and Your Spot Is Spent,’21 she said to Peruonto, ‘My handsome young man, turn this ship into a beautiful palace, for we’ll be safer that way. You know how the saying goes: “Praise the sea but stay on land.”’ And Peruonto answered, ‘If you want me to do that give me raisins and figs.’ She took care of the matter right away, and Peruonto, caught by his throat, asked for the favor, and the ship immediately landed and became a stupendous palace, elaborately decorated from top to bottom, and so full of furnishings and luxuries that nothing more could be desired.
“Whereas before Vastolla would have given up her life for three measly coins,22 now she wouldn’t have traded it with the most noble lady in the world, for she was given gifts and served like a queen. To seal all of her good fortune she had only to ask Peruonto to obtain the grace of becoming handsome and well groomed so that they could enjoy everything together; for although the proverb says, ‘Better to have a dirty little husband than an emperor for a friend,’ nonetheless if he changed his face she would consider it the greatest fortune in the world. And, according to the terms of the usual deal, Peruonto answered, ‘Give me raisins and figs if you want me to do that,’ and Vastolla immediately found a remedy for the constipation of Peruonto’s words with the laxative figs. No sooner had he spoken than he was transformed from a flycatcher into a goldfinch, from an ogre into a Narcissus,23 from a grotesque mask into a lovely little doll. When Vastolla saw this she was in the seventh heaven of happiness, and, pressing him in her arms, she squeezed a juice of pleasure.
“At this same time the king, who had ever since the day the disaster occurred been up to his neck in ‘leave-me-alones,’ was taken hunting by his courtiers in an attempt to cheer him up. While they were out night came upon them, and when they saw an oil lamp shining in the window of that palace, the king sent a servant to see if they were willing to offer him lodging. He was answered that not only could he break a glass there but he could shatter a chamber pot as well. And so the king entered, and as he went up the stairs and passed through the rooms, he saw not a living soul except for those two little boys, who circled about him saying, ‘Grandpa, Grandpa.’
“The king was stupefied, astonished, and dumbstruck, and stood there as if enchanted. And when he grew tired and sat down at a table, lo and behold! He saw tablecloths of Flanders linen invisibly spread and plates full of this and that carried to the table and then taken away again, and he ate and drank in a manner truly fit for a king. He was served by the two handsome boys, and the whole time he sat at the table music was played on the lute24 and tambourine, and he felt its effect all the way down to the little bones of his feet. As soon as he finished eating there appeared a bed all frothy with gold where, when his boots had been taken off, he lay down to sleep, as did his entire court once they, too, had stuffed themselves at a hundred other tables set in the other rooms.
“When morning arrived and the king intended to leave, he wanted to bring the two little boys with him. But Vastolla came out with her husband and, throwing herself at his feet, asked for his pardon and told him of all her adventures. The king, who saw that he had acquired two grandsons who were two jewels and a son-in-law as handsome as a fairy,25 embraced them all and carried them off to the city, where to celebrate these fine acquisitions he ordered grand festivities, which lasted for many days. And he had to confess, in spite of himself, that man proposes, and God disposes.”
4
VARDIELLO*
Fourth Entertainment of the First Day
After doing his mother a hundred bad services, Vardiello, who is a beast, loses a piece of her cloth. When he foolishly tries to get it back from a statue, he becomes rich.
When Meneca had finished her tale, which was judged to be no less wonderful than the others, packed as it had been with curious events that had kept her audience hanging by its tail right up until the end, Tolla, following the prince’s command, followed. Without wasting time she spoke in this manner: “If Nature had given animals the need to clothe themselves and spend money for meals, the race of quadrupeds would without a doubt have been destroyed. But they are able to find food without a farmer having to pick it, a buyer to purchase it, a cook to prepare it, or a steward to carve it, and their own hide defends them from rain and snow without a merchant to give them fabric, a tailor to make them clothing, or an errand boy to ask for a tip. But Nature didn’t think about giving man, who has intelligence, this convenience, because man knows how to procure what he needs by himself. That’s the reason why it’s normal to see the wise penniless and the beastly rich, as you’ll be able to gather from the tale that I am about to tell you.
“Grannonia of Aprano1 was a woman of great judgment, but she had a son named Vardiello who was the most good-for-nothing simpleton of the town. Even so, since a mother’s eyes are bewitched and see things that aren’t there, she had an unbounded love for him and brooded and preened him as if he were the most lovely creature in the world.
“Grannonia had a mother hen that was brooding her chicks, in whom she had placed all her expectations, hoping that it would be a good hatch from which she could squeeze a nice profit. And so when she had to go out on an errand, she called her son and said to him, ‘Mommy’s dear little boy, listen here: keep an eye on that hen, and if she gets up to peck, take care to make her get back into the nest, or else the eggs will get cold and then you won’t have eggies or cheep-cheeps.’ ‘This fellow will take care of it,’ said Vardiello, ‘you’re not talking to deaf ears.’ ‘One more thing,’ replied his mother. ‘Look, my blessed son: inside that cupboard there’s a little jar of some poisonous stuff. Make sure not to commit the awful sin of touching it, or you’ll stretch out your legs for the last time.’ ‘God forbid!’ answered Vardiello. ‘Poison won’t get me; and you’re a crazy-headed wise woman for warning me, since I might have bumped straight into it and then neither fishbones nor gristle could have blocked its way.’
“And so his mother left, and Vardiello was there by himself. So as not to waste any time he went out to the garden and set about making little ditches covered with twigs and earth for children to fall into. But right when he was in the middle of the job he realized that the hen was taking a walk outside her room, at which he began to say, ‘Shoo, shoo, get out of here, get back in there.’ But the hen didn’t lift a foot and after the ‘shoo shoo’ Vardiello, seeing that the hen was behaving like an ass, began stamping his feet, and after stamping his feet he threw his cap, and after the cap he threw a rolling pin, which hit her squarely and caused her to stretch out her legs for the last time and croak.
“Upon seeing this terrible
accident, Vardiello thought to find a remedy for the damage done, and, making virtue of necessity, he immediately pulled down his pants and sat on the nest so the eggs wouldn’t get cold; but since he plopped down quite heavily, he made an omelet of them. Seeing that he had doubled his loss, he felt like banging his head against the wall; finally, since every sorrow ends in a mouthful,2 when he felt his stomach rumbling he resolved to gobble up the hen. And thus, after plucking it and skewering it on a nice spit, he made an enormous fire and began to roast it. And so as to have everything ready in time, when it was almost done he spread a nice freshly laundered towel on top of an old chest, and then got a jug and went down to the cellar to tap a little quarter cask3 of wine.
“Right as he was in the middle of pouring the wine, he heard some noise, a racket, and an uproar in the house that sounded like armored horses. Terrified, he turned his eyes and saw that a huge cat had taken off with the hen together with the whole spit, and that another cat was running after it, screaming for its share. To make up for this damage Vardiello threw himself like an unchained lion on top of the cat and in his haste left the quarter cask uncorked, and after playing tag in every corner of the house he got the hen back, but all the wine had run out of the cask. When Vardiello came back and saw the mess he was in, he uncorked the barrel of his own soul through the spigots of his eyes. Helped, however, by his good sense, he made up for the damage so that his mother wouldn’t notice the degree of destruction: he got a sack of flour that was chock-full, overstuffed, jam-packed, crammed to the top, and bulging, and sprinkled it on the wet area.
The Tale of Tales Page 11