“There once was a good and respectable man by the name of Colaniello, who had three daughters: Rosa, Garofano, and Viola.1 The last of the three was so beautiful that she prepared syrups of desire to purge hearts of their every torment, and for this reason Ciullone, the king’s son, was smoldering and burning for her, and every time he passed by the room on the street2 where the three sisters worked, he would take off his hat and say, ‘Good day, good day to you, Viola.’ And she would answer, ‘Son of the king, good day. I know more than you, hey!’
“At these words the other sisters would swell up with rage and grumble, saying, ‘You’re an ill-bred girl and you’re going to tick the prince off in a bad way!’ But Viola just left her sisters’ words in the dust. And so to spite her they did her the bad service of going to their father and telling him that she was too fresh and presumptuous, and that she answered the prince without respect, as if she and he were the same thing, and that one day he was going to fly off the handle and give the sinner her just punishment.
“Colaniello was a man of good judgment, and in order to avoid such a situation he sent Viola to stay with an aunt of hers, named Cucevannella, so that she could teach the girl to work. But when the prince passed by the house and no longer saw the target of his desires, for a number of days he acted like a nightingale that finds the nest emptied of her children and hops from branch to branch complaining of her loss. And he spent so much time with his ears pressed to keyholes that he got wind of the place where Viola was staying, and he went to see the aunt and said, ‘My dear madam, you know who I am and what I’m capable and worthy of, and so, between us, let’s be quiet and keep our mouths shut; do me this favor and then fleece me for whatever sum you desire.’ ‘In whatever I can,’ answered the old woman, ‘I am entirely at your command.’ And the prince: ‘I want nothing more from you but that you allow me to kiss Viola, and you may have the pupils of these eyes.’ And the old woman replied, ‘I can do no more to serve you than hold your clothes while you’re out swimming; but I don’t want her to catch on that I’m playing the handle to this pitcher and that I have a hand in this shameful business, or else at the end of my days I’ll earn the reputation of a blacksmith’s boy who manages the bellows. So the favor I can do for you is to hide you in the ground-floor room off the garden, where I’ll send you Viola after inventing some excuse. And if you’ve got the cloth and scissors in your hand and don’t know how to use them, then it’ll be your fault.’
“Upon hearing this, the prince thanked her for her great kindness, and without wasting any more time he hid himself away in the room. With the excuse that she wanted to cut some piece of cloth or other, the old woman said to her niece, ‘Oh, Viola, if you love me go downstairs and get me the measure.’ When Viola entered the room to do her aunt this service, she became aware of the ambush, and once she had gotten the measure she leapt from the room as nimbly as a cat, leaving the prince long-nosed with shame and swollen with rage. The old woman, who saw her come back at such a run, suspected that the prince’s wiles hadn’t caught fire, and a short time later said to the girl, ‘Go, my niece, to the room downstairs and get me the ball of Brescia thread that’s on top of that little chest.’ Viola ran and got the thread, and then slithered through the prince’s hands like an eel.
Se lassaie scappare no vernacchio cossì spotestato e co tanto remmore e strepeto che Viola, pe la paura, strillava, “Oh, mamma mia, aiutame!” [He let out a fart that was so colossal and that made such a noise and uproar that Viola, out of fear, started shrieking, “Oh, dear mother, help me!”]
“But it wasn’t long before the old woman went back to saying, ‘Viola, my dear, if you don’t go downstairs and get me the scissors, it’ll be the end of me.’ And when Viola went down she received the third assault, but with the strength of a dog she got out of the trap, and when she was back upstairs she cut off her aunt’s ears with those very scissors, saying to her, ‘Here’s a generous tip for your matchmaking. Every job deserves a reward: for honor disfigured, ears damaged; and if I don’t cut off your nose as well it’s only so you can smell the stench of your reputation, you go-between, panderer, chicken carrier, eat-it-all-up, baby spoiler.’3 And speaking in this manner she hopped back home, leaving her aunt short on ears and the prince full of leave-me-alones.
“The prince returned to passing by Viola’s father’s house, and when he saw her sitting in the same place as always, he resumed the usual music: ‘Good day, good day to you, Viola.’ And she answered immediately, just like a good deacon, ‘Son of the king, good day. I know more than you, hey!’ The sisters, who could no longer bear this meddler, agreed among themselves to get rid of her. And since they had a window that overlooked the garden of an ogre, they thought they would throw the coins in that direction. So they dropped a skein of thread they were using to make a curtain for the queen down into the garden, and said, ‘Oh, poor us! We’re ruined and we won’t be able to finish the job in time unless Viola, who is the smallest and lightest of us, lets us lower her with a rope so she can get our thread!’ And Viola, not wanting to see them so afflicted, offered at once to go. When they had tied her to the rope they lowered her down, and after lowering her they let go of the rope.
“At that same moment the ogre came out to take a look at his garden, and since he had grown quite damp from the contact with the earth, he let out a fart that was so colossal and that made such a noise and uproar that Viola, out of fear, started shrieking, ‘Oh, dear mother, help me!’ The ogre turned around and saw this pretty girl behind him, and remembering that he had once heard from some students that Spanish mares are impregnated by the wind,4 he thought that the air from his fart had fecundated one of the trees and that this splendid creature had come out. And so he embraced her with great love and said, ‘Daughter, my daughter, part and parcel of this body, breath of this spirit, who would ever have thought that a bit of flatulence could have given this lovely face its form? Who would ever have thought that the effect of a chill could generate this fire of Love?’ And after saying these and other tender and doting words, he put her in the care of three fairies and ordered them to look after her and raise her on cherries.
“When the prince no longer saw Viola and heard nothing new or old about her he became so upset that he got bags as big as hernias under his eyes, his face took on a deathly hue, his lips grew ashen, and there was no morsel that tasted juicy to him and no sleep that brought him peace. Finally, by means of inquiries and the promise of rewards, he spied so hard that he found out where she was. He then had the ogre summoned and told him that he was ill, as the ogre could see for himself, and that he must do him the favor of allowing him to stay just one day and one night in his garden, for all he needed was a room to get his spirits back up. The ogre, who was a vassal of his father’s, couldn’t refuse him this small favor and offered him, as if one weren’t enough, all of his rooms and his very life. The prince thanked him and had himself assigned a room that, as luck would have it, was near the room where the ogre slept in the same bed with Viola.
“And—as soon as Night came out to play Hang My Curtain5 with the stars—when the prince found the ogre’s door open, since it was summer and this was a safe place and the ogre liked a little cool air, he went in very quietly and, after feeling around on Viola’s side, gave her two pinches. Waking up, she began to cry, ‘Oh, Daddy, so many fleas!’ The ogre immediately had the girl move to another bed, but the prince began to do the same thing again and Viola to scream in the same manner, so that the ogre had to keep on changing first her mattress and then her sheets, and they spent the whole night bustling about—until Dawn brought the news that the Sun had been found alive, and the sky shed its mourning clothes.
“But as soon as it was day in that house and the prince saw the girl by the door, he said to her, as usual, ‘Good day, good day to you, Viola,’ and when Viola answered, ‘Son of the king, good day. I know more than you, hey!’ the prince replied, ‘Oh, Daddy, so many fleas!�
� When she heard that shot Viola immediately realized that all of that bother the night before had been a trick on the part of the prince, and she went to visit the fairies to tell them about it. ‘If that’s the case,’ said the fairies, ‘we’ll fight pirates with pirates and galley slaves with sailors and if that dog bit you, we’ll see that we get his coat sheared; he played one on you and we’ll play one and a half on him! Now ask the ogre to make you a pair of slippers covered with bells, and then let us do the rest, for we intend to pay him back in fine coin!’
“Desirous of revenge, Viola immediately had the ogre make her the slippers, and then—after waiting until the sky, like a Genoese lady, had veiled its face with black taffeta6—the four of them went off together to the prince’s house, where the fairies and Viola entered his bedroom without being seen. As soon as the prince’s eyes grew heavy, the fairies made a huge commotion and Viola started to stamp her feet so loudly that, what with the noise of the feet and the clamor of the bells, the prince woke up in a great fright and yelled, ‘Oh, Mommy, Mommy, help me!’ And when this had been repeated two or three times they stole off back to their house.
“The next morning, after he had taken some lemon juice and wormwood seeds7 for his fear, the prince went for a walk in the garden, since he couldn’t live a moment without the sight of that Viola, who was the perfect match for his carnations,8 and when he saw her in front of the door he said, ‘Good day, good day to you, Viola,’ and Viola to him, ‘Son of the king, good day. I know more than you, hey!’ and the prince: ‘Oh, Daddy, so many fleas!’ and she: ‘Oh, Mommy, Mommy, help me!’
“When the prince heard this he said, ‘You’ve got me; the game is yours! I give up and you win, and now that I truly realize that you know more than I do, I want you without further ado for my wife!’ And so the ogre was summoned and the prince asked for her hand. But the ogre didn’t want to touch someone else’s harvest, since that very morning he had learned that Viola was Colaniello’s daughter and that his rear eye had been deceived into thinking that this fragrant vision was born from a fetid breeze. And so he called Viola’s father and informed him of the good fortune awaiting his daughter, and amid great joy the festivities were held, demonstrating the truth of the saying: A pretty girl gets married in the square.”
4
CAGLIUSO*
Fourth Entertainment of the Second Day
Due to the industry of a cat left to him by his father, Cagliuso becomes a gentleman. But when he shows signs of being ungrateful to the cat, it reproaches him for his ingratitude.
It is impossible to describe the great pleasure that everyone felt at the good fortune of Viola, who used her wits to construct such a fine destiny in spite of the vexations caused her by her sisters, enemies of their own flesh and blood, who tried so many times to trip her and break her neck. But since it was time for Tolla to pay the rent she owed, she coughed up the golden coins of lovely words and paid her debt in the following manner: “Ingratitude, my lords, is a rusty nail that when driven into the tree of courtesy causes it to dry up; it is a broken sewer that turns the foundations of affection into a sponge; it is a bit of soot that, falling into the pot of friendship, takes away its aroma and taste. And this can be formally seen and proved; you’ll see a rough sketch of it in the tale that I am about to tell you.
“There once was, in my city of Naples, an old, wretchedly poor man, who was so full of withouts, so destitute, hungry, miserable, gaunt, and lacking even the smallest wrinkle in his purse, that he went around as naked as a louse. When he was about to shake out the sacks of his life he called Oraziello and Pippo, his sons, and said to them, ‘I have already been convened according to contract for the debt I owe Nature. And believe me, if you are Christians, that it would be my great pleasure to sail out of this Mandracchio1 of sorrows and escape from this pigsty of suffering, if it weren’t for the fact that I’ll be leaving you impoverished, as penniless as Saint Chiara,2 stranded on the five roads of Melito3 without a coin, as clean as a barber’s basin, as light on your feet as a sergeant, and as dry as a prune pit. For you own as much as a fly can carry on its foot, and if you run for a hundred miles you won’t drop a cent,4 since my luck has driven me to where the three dogs shit;5 life is no longer mine to have, and what you see is what you can write about, because I have always, as you know, been one for yawns and little crosses,6 and I’ve always gone to bed without a candle. But despite all of this, I still want to leave you a sign of my love when I die; so you, Oraziello, my firstborn, take that sieve that’s hanging on the wall, with which you’ll be able to earn your bread; and you, Pippo, the nest shitter, take the cat. And remember your daddy.’ As he was saying this he burst into tears, and a short while later he said, ‘Farewell, night has come!’
“Oraziello had his father buried with the help of some charity, and then took his sieve and went running around from here to there trying to make a living, and the more he sifted the more he earned. But Pippo, upon taking the cat, said, ‘Just look what a pathetic inheritance my father has left me! I don’t know how to provide for myself and now I have to shop for two! Who ever heard of such a wretched legacy? Better if it had never been!’ The cat, who heard this moaning, said to him, ‘You complain too much! You’ve got more luck than brains, though you don’t know your own luck, for I can make you rich if I try.’ When he heard this Pippo thanked Her Royal Catness, petted her three or four times on the back, and warmly entrusted himself to her care. And then the cat, feeling sorry for poor Cagliuso,7 showed up every morning—when the Sun went fishing for Night’s shadows with its golden hook and bait of light—at either the Chiaia beach or the Rock of Fish,8 and when she spotted a big mullet or a nice bream she grabbed it and brought it to the king, saying, ‘Lord Cagliuso, slave to Your Highness from the ground floor up to the terrace, sends you this fish with his respect and says, “Great lord, small gift.”’ The king, with the happy face usually awarded to those who bring goods, answered the cat, ‘Tell this lord whom I don’t know that I send him infinite thanks.’
“Other times the cat would run off to the hunting grounds, either the swamps or the Astroni,9 and when the hunters shot down an oriole or a great tit or a blackcap, she collected them and presented them to the king with the same message. And she employed this stratagem so often that one morning the king said to her, ‘I feel so obliged to this lord Cagliuso that I would like to meet him in order to reciprocate the affection that he has shown toward me.’ To which the cat answered, ‘Lord Cagliuso’s desire is to give his life and blood for your crown; and tomorrow morning—when the Sun sets the stubble of the aerial fields on fire—he will, without a doubt, come to pay homage to you.’
“And so when morning came, the cat went to the king and said to him, ‘My lord, Lord Cagliuso sends his apologies, for he cannot come. Last night some servants of his ran off, and they didn’t even leave him the shirt on his back.’ Upon hearing this the king immediately had an armful of clothes and undergarments taken from his wardrobe and sent them to Cagliuso. And before two hours had gone by, Cagliuso, led by the cat, came to the palace, where he received a thousand compliments from the king, and after sitting him at his side the king gave orders that a magnificent banquet be prepared.
“But as everyone was eating, every now and then Cagliuso would turn to the cat and say to her, ‘My little kitty, keep an eye on those rags of mine, for I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to them.’ And the cat answered, ‘Be quiet, shut your trap, don’t talk about such trifles!’ When the king wanted to know what Cagliuso needed, the cat answered that he had gotten the craving for a little lemon, and the king immediately sent someone to the garden to get a basket of them. And Cagliuso kept up with the same music about his tatters and shirttails and the cat kept on telling him to plug up his mouth and the king asked him again what he needed and the cat invented another excuse to make up for Cagliuso’s pettiness.
“Stà zitto, appila, non parlare de ste pezzenterie!” [“Be q
uiet, shut your trap, don’t talk about such trifles!”]
“Finally, after having eaten and chatted for a long time about this and that, Cagliuso took his leave. But that fox of a cat stayed with the king and described to him Cagliuso’s valor, brains, good judgment, and above all his great riches in the countryside outside of Rome and in Lombardy, for which he would deserve to marry into the family of a crowned king. When the king asked what exactly there was, the cat answered that it was impossible to keep track of the furniture, buildings, and other furnishings of that moneybags, since even he did not know how much he had, and that if the king wanted to find out more about it he could send his people outside the kingdom with her, and they could see with their own eyes that his riches were without equal in the world.
“The king summoned some of his faithful men and ordered them to obtain detailed information on the matter, and they followed in the cat’s footsteps. As soon as they had gotten beyond the borders of the kingdom the cat, with the excuse that she had to find refreshment for them along the way, at every turn ran ahead and for every flock of sheep, herd of cattle, stable of horses, and drift of pigs she came across, she said to the shepherds and guardians, ‘Hey there, take heed! A bunch of bandits intends to sack everything they find in this land! But if you want to escape their fury and make sure your goods go unharmed, just say they belong to Lord Cagliuso, and no one will touch a hair on your head.’ She said the same thing at the farms along the way, so that wherever the king’s men arrived, they found a bagpipe tuned to the same key: everything they encountered was said to belong to Lord Cagliuso. And so, tired of asking, they returned to the king and praised Lord Cagliuso’s riches from the sky to the sea. When the king heard this, he promised the cat a nice reward if she arranged the marriage between Cagliuso and his daughter, and the cat, shuttling back and forth, finally pulled off the deal.
The Tale of Tales Page 21