. . . quant’essa pigliaie dolore vedennose cossì stravisata che non canosceva se stessa. [. . . as great as the pain she felt at seeing herself so altered that she couldn’t recognize herself.]
9
THE ENCHANTED DOE*
Ninth Entertainment of the First Day
Fonzo and Canneloro1 are born of a magic spell. Canneloro is envied by Fonzo’s mother, the queen, who breaks his head. Canneloro departs, and when he becomes king a great danger befalls him. Through the power of a spring and a myrtle bush Fonzo comes to know of his troubles, and goes to free him.
Their mouths hung open listening to Paola’s splendid tale, and they all concluded that a humble person is like a ball, since the harder you throw it to the ground the higher it bounces, or like a billy goat, since the farther it backs up the harder it butts its horns. But when Tadeo had signaled to Ciommetella to respect her place on the list, she set her tongue in motion as follows: “The strength of friendship is, without a doubt, great, and allows us to straddle all fatigue and perils in order to serve our friends. Worldly goods are considered a bit of straw, honor a little bug,2 and life a mere trifle when we can spend them to help a friend. Fables are overflowing with proof of this, stories are full of it, and today I’m going to give you an example of one that grandma Semmonella (may her soul rest in peace) used to tell me, if you’ll just close your mouths, let your ears hang low, and give me a little attention.
“There once was a certain king of Long Pergola named Iannone who had a great desire to have children and was always praying to the gods to make his wife’s belly swell up. And in the hope that they would move fast to content him he was especially charitable with wayfarers, to whom he would have given the pupils of his eyes. But finally, when he saw that things were taking a long time and there was no way they were going to sprout a bud, he hammered his door shut and shot at anyone who drew near.
“It happened that a great bearded sage came passing through that land, and not knowing that the king had changed his tune, or else knowing about it and wanting to find a cure for it, he went to see Iannone and begged to be received in his home. With a dark face and a terrible scowl, the king said to him, ‘If this is the only candle you have, you can go to bed in the dark! The time is past for Berta to spin!3 The kittens have opened their eyes! There’s no more mother now!’ And when the old man asked about the reason for this transformation, the king answered, ‘Out of my desire to have children, I spent and spread and threw away my belongings on all who came and went, and finally, when I saw that I couldn’t get a clean shave, I pulled my hand out and took up the anchor.’ ‘If that’s all there is,’ replied the old man, ‘calm down; I’ll get her pregnant for you straightaway or you can have my ears.’ ‘If you do,’ said the king, ‘I give you my word that I’ll reward you with half of my kingdom.’
“The other answered, ‘Now listen carefully: if you want a good graft get the heart of a sea dragon and have it cooked by a young virgin who, at the mere odor coming from the pot, will find herself with swollen belly; when the heart is cooked, give it to the queen to eat, and you’ll see that she’ll immediately become pregnant, too, as if she were in her ninth month.’ ‘How can that be?’ replied the king. ‘To tell you the truth, it seems pretty hard to swallow.’ ‘No need to marvel,’ said the old man, ‘since if you read the myths you can find that after brushing against a flower while passing through the Olenian Fields Juno’s belly blew up and she gave birth.’4 ‘If that’s how it is,’ the king concluded, ‘let the dragon’s heart be found this very instant. After all, I’ve got nothing to lose.’
Mese a lo fuoco lo core e . . . tutte li mobele de la casa ’ntorzaro e ’n capo de poche iuorne figliattero. [She put the heart on the fire and . . . all the furniture in the room began to swell up, and at the end of a few days they were all delivered.]
“And so he sent a hundred fishermen to sea, and they prepared harpoons, trawls, hooks, nets, traps, lines, and reels, and sailed around and searched far and wide until they finally caught a dragon. Then they ripped out its heart and brought it to the king, who gave it to a lovely lady-in-waiting to cook. She locked herself in a room, and no sooner had she put the heart on the fire and the vapor had started to rise from the stew than not only did the fair cook herself became pregnant but all the furniture in the room began to swell up, and at the end of a few days they were all delivered. The big canopy bed had a little bed, the strongbox a little chest, the big chairs little chairs, the big table a little table, and the chamber pot a little decorated chamber pot that was so pretty you could have eaten it. The cooked heart had barely been tasted by the queen before she felt her own belly growing large, and in four days she and her lady-in-waiting both gave birth at the same time to lovely strapping boys, the one such a spitting image of the other that you couldn’t tell them apart. The two boys grew up together with such love that they became inseparable, and their fondness for each other was so intense that the queen began to feel a bit of envy, since her son showed greater affection for the son of one of her servants than for herself, and she couldn’t figure out how to remove that speck from her eye.
“Now one day when the prince wanted to go hunting with his companion, he had a fire lit in the hearth in his room and began to melt down lead to make bullets, and since he was missing something or other, he went to look for it in person. In the meantime the queen came by to see what her son was doing, and when she found Canneloro, the son of the lady-in-waiting, alone in there, she thought that she would remove him from this world, and threw some red-hot bullet mold in his face. He ducked, but it hit him on the eyebrow and left him with an ugly gash; the queen was already about to send off a second charge when Fonzo, her son, arrived. Pretending that she had come to see how he was, she gave him a few insipid caresses and left.
“Canneloro pulled a hat down over his forehead so that Fonzo couldn’t see what had happened, and he stood perfectly still even though he felt like he was frying with pain. And when he had finished rolling those balls5 like a cockroach, he asked the prince’s permission to leave town. Marveling at this sudden decision, Fonzo asked him what the reason was, to which Canneloro answered, ‘Attempt to discover no more, my dear Fonzo. May it suffice you to know only that I am forced to leave, and the heavens know that as I leave you, heart of mine, my soul plays tug-of-war with my breast, my spirit goes “row your boat” away from my body, my blood plays “beat it, Marco”6 with my veins. But since there’s nothing else to be done, take care of yourself and remember me.’
“After they embraced, Canneloro went off to his room in a state of despair. There he put on a suit of armor and a sword, to which another weapon had given birth when the heart was cooking, and, completely armed, he got a horse from the stable and was just about to put his feet in the stirrups when Fonzo came in crying and asked him if, seeing as he intended to abandon him, he could at least leave him some sign of his love so that Fonzo could reduce the anguish caused by the other’s absence. At these words Canneloro took his dagger in hand and drove it into the ground, and, when a lovely spring gushed forth, he said to the prince, ‘This is the best memento I can leave you, since from the course of this spring you will be able to tell the course of my life: if you see it run clear, you will know that my state is similarly clear and calm; if you see it muddy, you can imagine that I am in trouble; and if you find it dry (may the heavens will this not), you can assume that the oil of my lantern has burned off and that I will be where I have to pay my toll to nature.’ That said, he put his hand on his sword and, striking the ground, caused a myrtle bush to sprout, saying, ‘When you see that it is green, you will know that I am as green as garlic; if you see it withered, you can assume that my luck is not standing very tall; and if it becomes completely dry you can say a requiem of shoes and clogs7 for your Canneloro.’
“That said, they embraced again and Canneloro left. He walked far and wide, and after the occurrence of many things that it would t
ake a long time to recount, such as fights with coachmen, swindles by innkeepers, assassinations of customs officers, the dangers of treacherous roads, and the diarrhea caused by fear of thieves,8 he finally arrived at Long Pergola9 just when they were having a splendid joust, in which the daughter of the king was promised to the champion. Canneloro presented himself and performed so valorously that he proved a great bother to all the knights who had come from many different countries to earn themselves a name. And for his feats he was given the king’s daughter Fenizia for his wife, and great festivities were held.
“After living for a few months in blessed peace Canneloro got the melancholic urge to go hunting, and when he told the king, he in turn was told, ‘Watch out for your legs,10 my son-in-law, and see that Old Nick doesn’t blind you! Keep your wits about you! Open your door, sir, for in those woods there’s an ogre worse than the demon, who every day changes shape; now he appears as a wolf, now a lion, now a deer, now a donkey, and now one thing and now another, and with a thousand stratagems he drags the poor souls he encounters into a grotto where he eats them up. So, my son, don’t put your health at risk, for you’ll lose the rags off your back!’
“Canneloro, who had left all fear in his mother’s belly, paid no heed to his father-in-law’s advice and went off hunting as soon as the Sun had cleaned away the Night’s soot with the straw broom of its rays. And when he got to the wood—where under the canopy of branches shadows congregated to form a monopoly and plot against the Sun—the ogre, who had seen him arrive, transformed himself into a lovely doe, which Canneloro began to pursue as soon as he saw it. The doe held him off and bounced him around from one place to another until it drove him to the heart of the wood, where it caused so much rain and snow to fall that it seemed like the sky was falling. And when Canneloro found himself in front of the ogre’s grotto he went in to save himself, and since he was numb with cold he gathered up some wood he found there and, pulling his flint out of his pocket, lit a great fire.
“As he was standing there getting warm and drying his clothes, the doe appeared at the mouth of the grotto and said, ‘Oh, sir knight, give me leave to warm up a little, for I’m frozen stiff.’ Canneloro, who was courteous, said, ‘Come closer, and may you be welcome.’ ‘I’ll come,’ answered the doe, ‘but I’m afraid that you’ll kill me.’ ‘Have no fear,’ replied Canneloro. ‘Come, on my word.’ ‘If you want me to come,’ resumed the doe, ‘tie up those dogs so they won’t bother me, and secure that horse so it won’t kick me.’ And Canneloro tied up the dogs and tethered the horse. Then the doe said, ‘Yes, now I feel almost reassured; but if you don’t fasten your sword I won’t come in, on the soul of my grandpa!’ And Canneloro, who enjoyed familiarizing with the doe, fastened his sword like a farmer going to the city does, for fear of the police.11 As soon as the ogre saw that Canneloro was defenseless he took back his true shape, grabbed hold of him, lowered him into a ditch that was at the back of the grotto, and covered it with a rock so that he could eat him later.
“But when Fonzo, who morning and evening visited the myrtle bush and the spring for news of Canneloro, found the one withered and the other muddy, he immediately imagined that his friend was in trouble. Wanting to assist him, he got on his horse without asking leave of his father or mother, and, well armed and in the company of two enchanted dogs, he set off into the world. And he traveled and roamed in this direction and that until he finally arrived at Long Pergola.
“He found the kingdom completely draped in black for the presumed death of Canneloro, and no sooner had he arrived at court than every person there, believing that he was Canneloro because of his resemblance to him, ran to ask Fenizia for their reward. Throwing herself headlong down the stairs, she hugged Fonzo and said, ‘My dear husband, my heart, where have you been all these days?’ From this response Fonzo immediately suspected that Canneloro had come to this land and left it, and he decided to interrogate the princess very carefully in order to determine from her words where he might be. And, hearing it said that he had exposed himself to too great a danger in that accursed hunt, especially since he might have been discovered by the ogre, who was so terribly cruel with men, he immediately understood that that was what his friend had come up against. He feigned to know nothing about the matter, and when it was night he went off to bed.
“Pretending to have made a vow to Diana12 not to touch his wife that night, he lay his unsheathed sword13 between him and Fenizia like a stockade. In the morning he couldn’t wait for the Sun to come out—and give some golden pills14 to the heavens to make it shit its shadow—since as soon as he got out of bed he intended to go hunting, and neither Fenizia’s pleas nor the king’s orders could stop him.
“After mounting his horse he went to the woods with his enchanted dogs, and the same thing that had happened to Canneloro happened to him. He went into the grotto and saw Canneloro’s weapons, dogs, and horse tied up, and he was then certain that that was where his friend had been snared. And when the doe told him to tie up his weapons, dogs, and horse, he sicced them on the doe and they tore it to shreds. As he was searching for some other trace of his friend, he heard moans coming from down in the ditch, and after lifting the rock he pulled out Canneloro along with all the others the ogre had been keeping there, buried alive, in order to fatten them up. And so they embraced with great rejoicing and went home, where upon seeing those two identical men Fenizia was not able to tell which of them was her husband. But when Canneloro lifted his hat she saw the scar and, recognizing him, she embraced him.
“After spending a month in amusements in that land, Fonzo wanted to return home and see his own nest again. With Fonzo as his messenger, Canneloro wrote to his mother to come and take part in his greatness, which she did, and from that time on he wanted nothing more to do with either dogs or hunting, always remembering the saying that goes, Miserable is he who is punished at his own expense.”
10
THE OLD WOMAN WHO WAS SKINNED*
Tenth Entertainment of the First Day
The king of Strong Fortress falls in love with the voice of an old woman, and after he is tricked with a sucked-on finger, he gets her to sleep with him. But upon discovering her old hide, he has her thrown out the window, and when she remains hanging on a tree she is enchanted by seven fairies, after which she becomes a splendid young woman and the king takes her for his wife. But the other sister is envious of her fortune, gets skinned to make herself more beautiful, and dies.
There wasn’t one person who didn’t like Ciommetella’s tale, and they derived a double-soled pleasure from seeing Canneloro freed and the ogre, who had done such a butcher job on the poor hunters, punished. And when the order was given to Iacova to seal the next letter of entertainment with her coat of arms, she began to speak in this manner: “The accursed vice, embedded in us women, of wanting to look beautiful reduces us to the point where to gild the frame of our forehead we spoil the painting of our face, to whiten our old and wizened skin we ruin the bones of our teeth, and to put our limbs in a good light we darken our eyesight, so that before it is time to pay our tribute to time we procure ourselves rheumy eyes, wrinkled faces, and rotten molars. But if a young girl who in her vanity gives in to such empty-headedness deserves reproach, even more worthy of punishment is an old woman who out of her desire to compete with young ladies becomes a laughingstock for others and the ruin of her own self, as I am about to tell you, if you will lend me a bit of your ears.1
“Two old women had retired to a garden facing the King of Strong Fortress’s quarters. They were the summary of all misfortunes, the register of all deformities, the ledger of all ugliness: their tufts of hair were disheveled and spiked, their foreheads lined and lumpy, their eyelashes shaggy and bristly, their eyelids swollen and heavy, their eyes wizened and seedy-looking, their faces yellowed and wrinkled, their mouths drooly and crooked; in short, they had beards like a billy goat’s, hairy chests, round-bellied shoulders, withered arms, lame and cr
ippled legs, and hooked feet. And to prevent even the Sun from catching a glimpse of their hideous appearance, they stayed holed up in a few ground-level rooms2 under the windows of that lord.
“The king was reduced to such a state that he couldn’t even fart without causing those old pains in the neck to wrinkle their noses, for they grumbled and threw themselves about like squid over the smallest thing. First they said that a jasmine flower fallen from above had given one of them a lump on her head, then that a torn-up letter had dislocated one of their shoulders, and then that a pinch of dust had bruised one of their thighs.
“Upon hearing of this monster of delicacy, the king concluded that underneath him lived the quintessence of softness, the prime cut of the most delectable of meats, and the flower of all tenderness, by reason of which he was overcome by a craving all the way down to the little bones in his feet and a desire straight through to his bone marrow to see this marvel and to get a clearer idea of the matter. And so he began to send down sighs, to clear his throat when there was nothing to clear, and, finally, to speak more expeditiously and with greater boldness, exclaiming, ‘Where, oh where do you hide yourself, jewel, splendor, beautiful product of the world? “Come out, come out, Sun, warm up the emperor!”3 Uncover those lovely graces, show those lamps of the shop of Love, stick out that dainty head, O counting house heaped with beauty’s money! Don’t be so stingy about letting yourself be seen! “Open your doors to the poor falcon!” “Give me an offering if you want to give me one!”4 Let me see the instrument from which issues that sweet voice! Allow me to see the bell where that tinkling is formed! Let me catch a glimpse of that bird! Do not make me graze on absinthe like a sheep from Ponto5 by refusing to allow me to look at and contemplate that beauty of all beauties!’
The Tale of Tales Page 16