The Tale of Tales

by Giambattista Basile

  “It is said that there once was a very rich merchant named Antoniello who had two sons, Cienzo and Meo, so similar that you couldn’t tell one from the other. It happened that while Cienzo, the firstborn, was throwing stones at the Arenaccia2 with the son of the king of Naples, he broke the prince’s noodle, for which Antoniello, furious, said to him, ‘Good boy, now you’ve really fixed things up nice! Write home about it! Brag about it, you sack, or I’ll rip out your seams! Hoist it up on a pole! Go on, you broke what costs six coins!3 You took apart the head of the king’s son? What, didn’t you have a ruler,4 you son of a billy goat? What’s going to come of your business now? I wouldn’t put a price tag of three cents on you; you’ve cooked up a mess, and even if you went back in where you came from I wouldn’t be able to keep you safe from the king’s clutches, since, as you know, their shinbones are long and they can reach wherever they like, and he’ll do things that stink.’

  “After his father had talked and then talked some more Cienzo answered, ‘My sir, I’ve always heard it said that it’s better to have policemen in your house than a doctor. Wouldn’t it have been worse if he had beaned me? I was provoked, we’re boys, we ended up in a brawl, it’s my first crime, the king is a sensible man; at the end, what can he do to me a hundred years from now? If they don’t want to give me a mother, they can give me a daughter; if they don’t want to give it to me cooked, they can give it to me raw. It’s the same the whole world over: if you’re afraid, you should become a cop.’

  “‘What can he do to you?’ replied Antoniello. ‘He can banish you from this world, send you off for a change of air; he can treat you like a schoolmaster, with a stick twenty-four spans5 long that’ll have you racking the fish until they learn to speak;6 he can send you off, with a soap-starched collar three spans high, to take your pleasure with the widow,7 where instead of touching your bride’s hand you’ll be touching the hangman’s feet.8 And so don’t just stand there with your hide paying rent to both the cloth and the shearer, but start marching this instant, and may none of your business, neither old nor new, be known unless you want to get caught by the foot: better to be a country bird than a caged one. Here’s some money; go get yourself one of the two enchanted horses that I keep in my stable, and a bitch, who’s also enchanted. And don’t wait any longer: better to kick up your heels than to have someone dogging your every step; better to throw your legs over your neck than to have your neck hanging between your legs; better, ultimately, to walk a thousand feet than to end up with three feet of rope around you. If you don’t pack your bags, neither Baldus nor Bartolus9 will be able to help you.’

  “After asking for his blessing Cienzo mounted the horse, put the little bitch under his arm, and began to trot out of the city. But as soon as he had gone through Porta Capuana,10 he looked back and began to say, ‘Here I go, my beautiful Naples, I’m leaving you! Who knows if I’ll ever be able to see you again, bricks of sugar and walls of sweet pastry, where the stones are manna in your stomach, the rafters are sugarcane, the doors and windows puff pastry? Alas! Separating from you, lovely Pennino,11 is like walking behind a funeral pennant! Taking my leave of you, Piazza Larga,12 my spirit is squeezed narrow! Removing myself from you, Piazza dell’Olmo,13 I feel my soul split in two! Parting from you, Lancieri,14 is like being pierced by a Catalan lance! Where shall I find another Porto,15 sweet port of all the world’s riches? Tearing myself away from you, O Forcella,16 my spirit tears itself away from the wishbone of my soul! Where is there another Gelsi,17 where the silkworms of love weave never-ending cocoons of pleasure? Where another Pertuso,18 resort to all virtuous men? Where another Loggia,19 where plenty is lodged and pleasure is refined? Alas! My Lavinaro,20 I cannot remove myself from you without a stream of tears flowing from my eyes! I cannot leave you, O Mercato,21 without a load of grief as merchandise! Beautiful Chiaia,22 I cannot part company with you without a thousand wounds tormenting my heart! Farewell, carrots and chard; farewell, fritters and cakes; farewell, broccoli and pickled tuna; farewell, tripe and giblets; farewell, stews and casseroles! Farewell, flower of cities, glory of Italy, painted egg of Europe, mirror of the world! Farewell, Naples, the non plus ultra where virtue has set her limits and grace her boundaries! I leave you to become a widower of your vegetable soups; driven out of this dear village, O my cabbage stalks, I must leave you behind!’

  “And while he was saying this he shed a winter of tears in a dog’s day of sighs, and then walked so far that the first evening he arrived at a wood in the vicinity of Cascano23—a wood that kept its mule attended to outside its borders by the Sun, while it took its pleasure with the silence and shadows—where there stood an old house at the foot of a tower. He knocked at the tower, but since it was already night its owner was suspicious of bandits and didn’t want to open the door, and so poor Cienzo was forced to stay in the ramshackle house. After putting his horse to pasture in a meadow, he threw himself onto some straw he found there, with the little dog at his side. But no sooner had he closed his eyes than he was awakened by the dog barking, and then he heard someone shuffling around in the room.

  “Cienzo, who was brave and fearless, took hold of his carob pod24 and began to slash right and left in the dark. But when he realized that he wasn’t hitting anyone and that he was merely striking at the wind, he went and stretched out again. A little while later, though, he felt himself being pulled very slowly by the foot, so he took hold of his old saw and got up once more, saying, ‘Hey, now you’re really bugging me! What’s the point of these little spying games? Show yourself, if you’ve got the guts to, and let’s indulge our whims, for you’ve found the right foot for your shoe!’

  “After uttering these words he heard side-splitting laughter and then a deep voice that said, ‘Come down here, and I’ll tell you who I am.’ Without losing his nerve Cienzo answered, ‘Wait, I’ll be there in a minute,’ and he groped around until he found a staircase that led to a cellar, and when he had gone down he found a little lit lantern and three creatures who looked like bogeymen. Engaged in a bitter lament, they were crying, ‘My beautiful treasure, now I’m going to lose you!’ When Cienzo saw this he, too, began to moan, in order to make conversation, and after they cried for a good while—until the Moon cut the fritter of the sky in half with its little hatchet of rays25—the three who were chanting the dirge told him, ‘Now go and get the treasure; it is destined for you alone, and may you know how to take care of it.’ That said, they vanished into thin air in the manner of He Who Never Shows Himself.

  “Cienzo saw the sun through a hole and wanted to go back up, but he couldn’t find the staircase, and he began to shout so loudly that the owner of the tower, who had come out to take a piss in the ramshackle house, heard him. He asked him what he was doing, and when he learned what had happened he went to get a ladder, and upon reaching the bottom found a huge treasure. He wanted to give part of it to Cienzo, but the boy didn’t want a thing and, taking the bitch, he got on the horse and set off.

  “He then arrived in a solitary and deserted wood that was dark enough to make your mouth screw up, and on the bank of a river—which, to please the shade with whom she was in love, did caracoles in the meadows and curvets on the rocks—he came across a fairy surrounded by a gang of delinquents who were about to do away with her honor. Cienzo, who saw the evil things those rogues were up to, took hold of his blade and slaughtered them. When the fairy saw what had been done for her, she showered him with compliments and invited him to a palace not far from there, where she intended to pay him back for the service rendered. But Cienzo said to her, ‘Don’t mention it; a thousand thanks! You can do me a favor another time, since I’m in a hurry right now to take care of some important business.’ Then he took his leave, and when he had walked another good distance, he came across the palace of a king that was draped all over in mourning, such that your heart grew dark at the sight of it.

  “When Cienzo asked what the reason for the bereavement was, he was told
that a seven-headed dragon had appeared in that land, the most terrible dragon ever seen in the world. It had the combs of a rooster, the heads of a cat, eyes of fire, the mouths of a Corsican hound, the wings of a bat, the paws of a bear, and the tails of a serpent. ‘Now the dragon devours one soul a day, and since this business is still going on, today Menechella, the daughter of the king, has by chance pulled the winning ticket. And that’s why they’re tearing their hair out and stamping their feet in the royal house, for the loveliest creature in the land is going to be gobbled up and gulped down by a hideous animal.’

  “After hearing this Cienzo moved off to one side and then saw Menechella arrive with her mourning train, accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting and by all the women of the land, who were beating their hands and pulling out their hair lock by lock and lamenting the bad fortune of this poor young lady with these words: ‘Who could have ever told this miserable girl that she would have to assign the property of her life to the body of this evil beast? Who could have ever told this lovely goldfinch that a dragon’s belly would be her cage? Who could have ever told this lovely silkworm that she would have to leave the seed of her stamen of life inside this black cocoon?’

  “As they were saying this the dragon came out of a little cave. Oh, dear mother, what a horrible face! Let’s just say that the sun holed up in the clouds from fear, and the sky grew dark; the hearts of all those people were like mummies, and they were trembling so hard they wouldn’t have been able to take an enema made of a single pig’s bristle.

  “When Cienzo saw this he took hold of his blade and—whack!—knocked one of the heads to the ground. But the dragon rubbed its neck with some herb that grew not far from there and stuck its head right back on, like a lizard that reattaches its tail. Upon seeing this, Cienzo said, ‘If you don’t persevere, you won’t deliver,’ and he clenched his teeth and then let fly a blow so powerful that all seven of the heads were cut cleanly off, rolling from their necks like chickpeas from a spoon. When he had ripped the tongues out and put them away he hurled the heads a mile from the body, so that they couldn’t be put back together again. Then he picked a handful of that herb that had glued the neck to the head of the dragon and sent Menechella to her father’s house, and he went to rest at an inn.

  “It’s hard to imagine the joy the king felt when he saw his daughter, and after he heard how she had been freed he immediately issued a proclamation announcing that whoever had killed the dragon should come and take his daughter for his wife. When he heard this, a sly peasant gathered up the heads of the dragon, went to the king, and said, ‘Thanks to this here fellow, Menechella is safe! These little hands freed the land from such ruination! Here are the heads, witnesses to my valor! And so every promise is a debt!’ Upon hearing this the king took the crown off his head and placed it atop the peasant’s noodle, which now looked like a bandit’s head on the top of a column.26

  “The news of this event spread through the land until it reached Cienzo’s ears. He said to himself, ‘I’m really a big nitwit; I had Fortune by the hair and I let her fall from my hands! One man wants to give me half a treasure and I pay as much attention to it as a German does to cool water!27 That other woman wants to grant me a favor in her palace and I take as much notice of it as an ass does of music, and now I’m called to the throne and I’m like a drunk woman in front of a spindle, allowing a hairy-foot to step in front of me and a cheating, thieving card player to take this lovely winning deal right out of my hand!’

  “As he was saying this he grabbed an inkwell, picked up a pen, smoothed out some paper, and began to write: ‘To the most beautiful jewel of women, Menechella, daughter of the king of Lose-Your-Mind. Having by the grace of the Sun in Leo28 saved your life, I now hear that another man brags of my labors and claims as his own the service I rendered you. Since you were present during the incident, you can convince the king of the truth and make it impossible for another to earn a soldier’s pension,29 when I’m the one who spun my spoons. And this will be the proper demonstration of your refined queenly grace as well as the deserved reward for a hand as strong as Skanderbeg’s.30 In conclusion, I kiss your delicate little hands. From the Inn of the Urinal,31 today, Sunday.’

  “When he had written this letter and sealed it with chewed-up bread, he put it in the little bitch’s mouth and said, ‘Go, run as fast as you can and take this to the daughter of the king, and give it to no one else unless it is put directly into the hands of that face of silver.’ The little bitch ran off, almost flying, to the royal palace, and when she went up the stairs she found the king still engaged in ceremonies with the bridegroom, who, upon seeing that little bitch with the letter in her mouth, ordered that it be taken from her. But the dog would not give it to just anyone, and jumping onto Menechella’s lap, she placed the letter in her hands.

  “Menechella got up from her chair and, bowing to the king, gave it to him so that he could read it, and after reading it he ordered that the little bitch be followed so that they could see where she went, and that her master be brought before him. And so two courtiers followed the dog and arrived at the inn and found Cienzo. They relayed the king’s message to him and then carried him off to the palace, where he was asked in the royal presence why he was bragging that he had killed the dragon, if that man who was sitting next to the king with the crown on his head had brought the heads.

  “And Cienzo answered, ‘That peasant would deserve a miter made from a royal decree of condemnation before he would a crown, since he’s been so shameless as to try to pass off fireflies for lanterns. And to show you it’s true that I was the one who performed this feat, and not this bearded billy goat, have the dragon heads be brought before us, and you will see that none of them can serve as proof since they do not have tongues, which, in order to convince you of the matter, I have brought to this judgment.’ Saying this, he exhibited the tongues; the peasant stood there, stunned, not knowing what had happened to him, and even more so when Menechella added, ‘He’s the one! Ah, you dog of a peasant, you tricked me!’

  “Upon hearing this, the king took the crown off the head of that dirty old lout-hide and put it on Cienzo, and when he wanted to send the peasant to jail Cienzo asked that he be pardoned, so as to pay back the other’s indiscretion with his own courtesy. And once the tables had all been spread they had a meal fit for lords, after which the couple went off to a lovely bed smelling of fresh laundry, where Cienzo, raising the trophies won in his victory over the dragon, entered triumphantly into the Capitol of Love.

  “But the next morning—when with both hands the Sun brandished its broadsword of light in the middle of the stars, shouting, ‘Out of my way, scoundrels’!—as he was getting dressed in front of a window, Cienzo saw a beautiful young lady at the house opposite, and he turned to Menechella and said, ‘What sort of lovely thing is that woman who lives across the way?’ ‘What business is that of yours?’ answered his wife. ‘Have you set your eyes on her? Are you in a bad mood, perhaps? Are you getting tired of rich food? Isn’t the meat you get at home enough for you?’

  “Lowering his head like a cat that has just caused some damage, Cienzo said nothing, but, pretending to go out on some business, he left the palace and slipped into the house of that young lady. And she truly was a delectable morsel: she looked like tender curds and whey, like sugar paste; she never turned the little buttons of her eyes without leaving hearts perforated by love; she never opened the basin of her lips without doing a little laundry of souls; she never moved the soles of her feet without pressing heavily on the shoulders of those hanging from the cord of hopes.32 But besides so much spellbinding beauty, she had this power: whenever she wanted to she could enchant, bind, attach, knot, chain, and envelop men with her hair, as she did with Cienzo, who as soon as he set foot in her house remained tethered like a colt.

  “In the meantime Meo, the younger brother, had received no news of Cienzo and got the whim to go searching for him. After asking his fath
er for permission, he was given another horse and another little bitch, also enchanted, and he trotted off. When he arrived that evening at the tower where Cienzo had been, the owner, who thought he was his brother, showered him with all the kindness in the world and wanted to give him money, which Meo wouldn’t take. Seeing what a fuss was being made he realized that his brother had been there and began to entertain the hope of finding him.

  “As soon as the Moon, enemy of poets, turned its back on the Sun, he set out. When he arrived at the fairy’s she thought he was Cienzo and flooded him with warm greetings, saying over and over again, ‘May you be welcome, my young man, for you saved my life.’ Thanking her for such kindness, Meo said, ‘I apologize that I can’t stay, but I’m in a hurry. I’ll see you when I return.’

  “And rejoicing to himself that he was continuing to find traces of his brother, he followed the road until he arrived at the king’s palace, the very morning that Cienzo had been sequestered by the fairy’s hair. When he entered he was received with great honor by the servants and embraced with great affection by the bride, who said to him, ‘May my husband be welcome! He leaves in the morning, he’s back in the evening! When all the birds are feeding, the owl comes home to roost! Why have you been gone so long, my Cienzo? How can you stay far from Menechella? You took me out of the dragon’s mouth, but you throw me into the throat of suspicion if those eyes of yours are not always here to be my mirror!’

  “Meo, who was a sly one, understood immediately that this was his brother’s wife and, turning to Menechella, he apologized for being late; after he embraced her, they went to eat. But when the Moon, like a mother hen, called the stars to peck at the dew, they went to sleep, and Meo, who had respect for his brother’s honor, divided up the sheets, so that they each had one and there wouldn’t be any chance of him touching his sister-in-law.