The Tale of Tales

by Giambattista Basile

  “After the bird had thus spoken Miuccio got up, stuck a large knife under his clothes, took the herb, and set off for the dragon’s grotto, which was under a mountain so well grown that the three mountains that served as steps to the Giants13 wouldn’t have reached its waist. When he arrived he threw the herb into the cavern, and as soon as he put the dragon to sleep Miuccio began to chop away. As he was mincing up the animal the queen felt her own heart being minced; and when she saw herself in this trouble she recognized her mistake, for she had bought her death in hard cash. She called her husband and told him what the astrologers had predicted and how her life hung on the dragon’s, and that she suspected Miuccio had killed the dragon, since she felt her life slipping away from her bit by bit.

  “To which the king answered, ‘If you knew that the dragon’s life was the bastion of your own life and the root of your own days, why did you make me send Miuccio? Whose fault is it? You caused this harm to yourself and now you can cry over it; you broke the mug and now you can pay for it!’ The queen answered, ‘I would never have believed that a mere runt could have the skill and strength to bring down an animal that had little consideration for an army, and I was convinced that he would leave his rags there. But since I calculated my bill without the innkeeper, and the boat of my plans has sunk, do me a favor, if I am dear to you. As soon as I am dead take a sponge soaked in the dragon’s blood and lubricate all the extremities of my body before I am buried.’ ‘That is a small thing to do, considering the love I have for you,’ answered the king, ‘and if the dragon’s blood is not enough, I’ll add mine to satisfy you!’ But just as the queen was intending to thank him her spirit and with it her words left her, because at that very moment Miuccio had finished butchering the dragon.

  “As soon as Miuccio appeared before the king to give him the news of what had happened, the king ordered him to go and get the dragon’s blood. But since the king was curious to see the feat that Miuccio had accomplished with his own hands, he followed him. As the boy was going out of the palace door the bird came out to meet him and said, ‘Where are you going?’ to which Miuccio answered, ‘I’m going where the king sends me; he spins me like a shuttle and can’t leave me still for an hour.’ ‘To do what?’ said the bird. And Miuccio: ‘To get the dragon’s blood.’ The bird replied: ‘Oh, poor you! The dragon’s blood will be bull’s blood14 for you; it will explode inside you and revive that bad seed that’s at the root of all your troubles, for it is she who keeps putting you in new perils so that you may lose your life. And the king, who lets himself be harnessed by an ugly old hag, throws you like a die to risk your life, even if you are of his own blood, even if you are broccoli off his same plant! But I forgive him, for he does not know who you are. And yet his intrinsic affection should give him some inkling of the relationship, so that the services you have rendered this gentleman and the reward he reaps in acquiring such a lovely heir might have the strength to make that unlucky soul, your mother Porziella, enter into his graces, for it’s fourteen years now that she’s been buried alive up in a garret, where she looks like a temple of beauty built inside a closet!’

  “As the fairy was saying this the king, who had heard everything, came forward so that he could understand the matter more clearly. And after hearing that Miuccio was the son of Porziella, whom he had made pregnant, and that Porziella was still alive in that room, he immediately ordered that she be unwalled and brought before him. When he saw that she was more beautiful than ever, thanks to the bird’s good care, he embraced her with great love and could not get his fill of squeezing first the mother and then the son, at the same time begging the mother’s pardon for the bad way he had treated her and the son’s pardon for the dangers he had exposed him to. And then he had her dressed in the dead queen’s most sumptuous clothing and took her for his wife.

  “Finally, when he learned that Porziella had survived and his son had emerged unharmed from such danger all because the bird had kept the one fed and the other well advised, he offered the bird his state and his life. The bird said that it wanted no reward for all the services other than Miuccio for its husband, and as it was saying this it transformed into a splendid young lady, who, to the great pleasure of the king and Porziella, was given to Miuccio for his wife. And at the same time that the dead queen was being thrown into her grave, the pair of newlyweds began to reap bushels15 of happiness and set off for their kingdom for even grander festivities, where they were awaited with great pleasure. And they recognized that all the good fortune bestowed upon them by the fairy had been a result of the favor that Porziella did for her, since at the very end, a good deed is never wasted.”

  6

  THE THREE CROWNS*

  Sixth Entertainment of the Fourth Day

  Marchetta is abducted by the wind and carried off to the house of an ogress, from whom, after various events, she receives a slap. She departs, dressed as a man, and ends up in the house of a king, where the queen falls in love with her and, resentful that her love is not returned, accuses her in front of her husband of attempting to disgrace her. Marchetta is condemned to hang, but due to the power of a ring given to her by the ogress she is freed, and when her accuser is killed she becomes queen.

  Popa’s tale gave them extreme pleasure, and there was no one who did not savor Porziella’s good fortune. But there was also no one who envied her a fate that had been bought with so much hardship, since in order to reach the status of royalty she had almost lost her status as a person. When Antonella saw that Porziella’s troubles had darkened the hearts of the prince and his wife, she wished to lift their spirits a little and began to speak in this manner: “Truth, my lords, always rises to the surface like oil, and a lie is a fire that cannot remain hidden; indeed, it is a modern-day musket that kills the person shooting it,1 and it is not without reason that we call those who are not faithful to their words liars, for they burn2 and scorch not only all the virtues and goodness they carry inside their breasts but the lie itself where these words are preserved, as I will make you confess upon hearing the following tale.

  “There once was a king, the king of Shaken Valley, who since he could not have children would say at every hour of the day and wherever he happened to be, ‘O heavens, send me an heir to my state so that my house will not be left desolate!’ And on one of the occasions that he was thus lamenting he found himself in a garden, and as he uttered the usual words with loud cries, he heard a voice issue from inside the branches, which said,

  King, which do you prefer?

  A daughter who flees from you,

  Or a son who destroys you?

  “The king was confused by this proposal, and could not decide how to answer. Thinking that he would consult the wise men of his court, he immediately went off to his chambers, and when he had summoned his counselors he ordered them to discuss the matter. One answered that he should set greater store by his honor than by his life; another that he should value his life more, since it was an intrinsic good, whereas honor was extrinsic and therefore to be considered of lesser value; one said that the price of losing life was small, since it is water that passes, and so too for worldly goods, which are the columns of life set on the glass wheel of fortune, whereas honor, which is lasting and leaves tracks of fame and signs of glory, must be guarded jealously and taken care of lovingly; another argued that life, by which the species is preserved, and worldly goods, by which the greatness of one’s house is maintained, must be considered dearer than honor, since honor is an opinion that derives from virtue, and losing a daughter due to fortune and not to one’s own defect did not compromise a father’s virtue or dirty the honor of the family. But above all, there were some others who concluded that honor was not to be found in a woman’s apron strings and that, besides, a just prince should pay more attention to the common good than to particular interests, and, since a fugitive daughter brings only a little shame to her father’s house, whereas a wicked son sets fire to his own house
and the whole kingdom, that, therefore, seeing as the king wanted children and these two alternatives had been proposed, he should ask for a girl, since she would not put his life and his state in danger.

  “This opinion pleased the king. He returned to the garden and cried out as he was used to doing; when he heard the same voice as before, he answered, ‘A girl, a girl.’ Upon returning home that evening—when the Sun invited the hours of the day to take a look at the pygmies of the Antipodes3—he went to bed with his wife, and after nine months he had a beautiful daughter, whom he immediately had locked in a strong and well-guarded palace so as not to neglect, on his part, any possible attention that might remedy her sad destiny. She was brought up to have all the virtues appropriate to a kingly race, and when she was nice and big he began negotiations for a marriage with the king of Lose-Your-Mind.

  “Once the marriage had been arranged and the girl was turned out of her house, which she had never before left, to be sent to her husband, there came such a big gust of wind that she was swept off her feet and seen no more. The wind carried her along in the air for a while and then put her down in front of an ogress’s house, which was in a wood that had banished the Sun like a plague victim for having killed the infected Python.4 There she found a little old woman whom the ogress had left to guard her things, who said to her, ‘Oh, bitter is your life; where do you set foot? Unlucky you, if the ogress who is mistress of this house comes back! Your hide would not be worth three coins to her; she feeds on nothing but human flesh, and my own life is safe only to the extent that her need for my services holds her back, and she turns up her fangs at this poor old bark of mine, full of syncopes, palpitations, gas, and stones. But you know what you need to do? Here’s the key to the house: go in, tidy up the rooms, and clean every last thing, and as soon as the ogress comes in, hide so she can’t see you. I won’t leave you lacking in what you need to stay alive. In the meantime, who knows? The heavens may assist; time may bring great things. Enough said: have good sense and patience, and you’ll pass through every gulf and overcome every storm.’

  “Marchetta, for this was the girl’s name, made virtue out of necessity and took the key, and when she entered the ogress’s rooms the first thing she did was get her hands on a broom, and she made the house so clean you could eat macaroni off the floor. Then she took a bit of pork rind and polished the chests of walnut, and she shone them so brightly you could see yourself in them. And after she made the bed, she heard the ogress coming and hid inside a barrel where wheat had been kept.

  “When the ogress found this unusual state of things, she was most pleased and called the old woman and asked her, ‘Who tidied things up so nicely?’ The old woman answered that it had been her, and the ogress replied, ‘Those who do what they usually do not have either already tricked you or intend to! Truly, you can put a stick in the hole today; you’ve done something out of the ordinary and you deserve a rich soup.’ Saying this, she ate, and the next time she went out she found, upon returning, all the cobwebs removed from the rafters, all the copperware polished and hung prettily on the wall, and all the dirty clothes washed in hot water. She was knocked out with pleasure and blessed the old woman a thousand times, saying, ‘May the heavens always fecundate your fortune, my dear madam Pentarosa, may you always prosper and get ahead, for you cheer my heart with the wonderful way you tidy up and deliver me a house fit for a doll and a bed fit for a bride.’

  “The old woman was in seventh heaven with this new reputation she had earned, and she was always passing tasty morsels on to Marchetta and filling her up like a stuffed capon. And when the ogress went out again the old woman said to Marchetta, ‘Keep quiet; we’re going to catch up with this cripple and try your luck. Make something delicious with your own hands, something that appeals to the ogress, and if she swears on the seven heavens don’t believe her, but if by chance she swears on her three crowns you can show yourself, for it will be smooth sailing from then on and you’ll see that I’ve given you a mother’s advice.’

  “Upon hearing this Marchetta slaughtered a nice duck, made a lovely stew out of its extremities, and after stuffing it well with lard, oregano, and garlic, put it on a spit. Then she kneaded a few gnocchi5 on an upside-down basket and prepared the ogress’s table, decorating it with roses and branches of bitter orange. When the ogress came back and found this display, she nearly jumped out of her clothes, and she called the old woman and asked her, ‘Who did me this wonderful service?’ ‘Eat,’ answered the old woman, ‘and ask no more; it is enough that you have someone who serves you and gives you satisfaction.’ While the ogress was eating and those delicious morsels were going all the way down to the little bones of her feet, she began to say, ‘I swear on the three words of Naples6 that if I knew who the cook is I would give her the pupils of my eyes.’ Then she continued, ‘I swear on three bows and three arrows that if I can find out who it is, I intend to keep her inside this heart of mine; I swear on the three candles that are lit when a contract is signed at night; on the three witnesses necessary for a man to be hanged; on the three spans of rope wrapped around the hanged man; on three things that drive a man from his home: stench, smoke, and a wicked woman; on three things that a house consumes: fritters, warm bread, and macaroni; on the three women and a duck that make a market; on the three Fs of fish: fried, frosty, and fresh; on the three principal singers of Naples: Giovanni della Carriola, Compare Biondo, and the King of Music;7 on the three Ss a lover must be: solitary, solicitous, and secret; on the three things a merchant needs: credit, courage, and good fortune; on the three sorts of people a whore takes to: swashbucklers, handsome young men, and dimwits; on the three things important for a thief: eyes for spotting, claws for grabbing, feet for beating it; on three things that ruin youth: gambling, women, and taverns; on the three greatest virtues of a cop: staking out, chasing, and catching; on three things useful to a courtier: dissimulation, phlegm, and luck; on three things that a procurer should have: a big heart, a lot of hot air, and little shame; on the three things a doctor checks: the pulse, the face, and the chamber pot.’ But she might as well have talked from today until tomorrow, for Marchetta, who had been warned, didn’t say a peep.

  “But when she finally heard her say, ‘On my three crowns, if I find out who the good housekeeper is who did all these wonderful services for me, I intend to give her more caresses and squeezes than she could ever imagine,’ Marchetta came out and said, ‘Here I am!’ Seeing her, the ogress answered, ‘I could kick myself; you were one up on me! You did a master’s job, and you saved yourself a nice bake inside this belly. But since you’ve been capable of doing so much and have given me pleasure, I intend to treat you even better than a daughter. And so here are the keys to my chambers, and may you be mistress and ruler of them. Only one thing will I withhold from you: you must not under any circumstance open the last room, which this key opens, for it would be like mustard under my nose. Take care to serve me well, and—lucky you!—I promise, on my three crowns, that I will arrange a very rich marriage for you.’ Marchetta kissed her hand in thanks for so much grace and promised to serve her better than a slave.

  “When the ogress left, however, Marchetta felt terribly tickled by the curiosity to see what was inside that forbidden chamber, and when she opened it she found three girls, all dressed in gold and seated on three imperial thrones, who appeared to be sleeping. These girls were all daughters of a fairy who had been put under a spell by their mother because she knew that they would meet with great danger if the daughter of a king did not come to awaken them, and she had enclosed them there so as to remove them from the perils threatened by the stars.

  “Now when Marchetta went in, the noise she made with her feet brought the girls back to consciousness, as if they were awakening, and they asked for something to eat. She immediately got them three eggs apiece, cooked the eggs under the ashes, and gave them to the girls. As soon as they had gotten back their breath, they wanted to go get some air out
side the room. In the meantime, however, the ogress returned and was so incensed that she gave Marchetta a nice big slap on the face, which offended her so greatly that before a moment had passed she asked the ogress for permission to leave and wander through the world in search of her fortune. And however much the ogress tried to soothe her with nice words, saying that she had been joking and wouldn’t do it again, it was not possible to get her to change her mind, until she was finally forced to let her leave. She gave the girl a ring and told her to wear it with the stone on the inside of her hand and never to look at it unless she found herself in great danger and heard her name repeated as an echo;8 she also gave her a fine suit of men’s clothes, which Marchetta had requested.

  “So dressed, Marchetta set off on her way. When she arrived at a wood—where Night went to collect wood to warm itself from the recent frost—she ran into a king on his way to the hunt, who, when he saw this handsome young man (for this is how she appeared), asked him where he was coming from and what he was doing. She answered that she was the son of a merchant, that her mother had died, and that she had fled because of the torments of her stepmother.

  “The king was pleased with Marchetta’s quickness and good manners and took her on as a page. He brought her to his palace, and as soon as the queen saw her she felt all her longings blown up by a bomb of graces, and although she tried for a few days, in part out of fear and in part out of pride—always a companion to beauty—to dissimulate the flame and disguise the bites of love under the tail of her desire, she was, nevertheless, short at the heel and unable to stand up under the impact of those unreined longings. And so one day she called Marchetta aside and began to reveal her suffering and tell of the weight of affliction with which she had been burdened since she had seen his beauty, and that if he did not make up his mind to water the field of her desires, without a doubt not only her hopes but also her life would wither away. She praised, on the one hand, the beauteous things of his face, and put before his eyes the fact that he would be acting like a bad student in the school of Love if he left an inkblot of cruelty inside the book of so many graces, and that, moreover, he would get a nice ruler of regret on his knuckles. To the praises she added prayers, beseeching him in the name of all seven heavens not to desire that someone who kept his lovely image on the signboard of the shop of her thoughts find herself inside a furnace of sighs and in the middle of a puddle of tears. Next came offers: she promised to pay for each finger of pleasure with a span of benefits and to keep the warehouse of her gratitude open for the satisfaction of every request from such a handsome client. Finally, she reminded him that she was queen, and that since she was already in the boat he should not leave her unassisted in the middle of that gulf, or else she would crash into the rocks and he would have to pay for it.