Italian Folktales (112 page)

“Just what do you expect us to be looking for? We are starving to death and therefore picking a few things to make soup with.”

“If you are poor, I will make you rich,” said the young man to the cobbler. “Leave your daughter with me, and I will give you a sack of money.”

“What!” exclaimed the poor father. “Leave you my daughter?” But the youth finally talked him into it, and he picked up the money and left, while Nunzia followed the young man underground.

Down below was a house so sumptuous that the girl thought she had reached Paradise. She began a life that could have been termed blissful, except that she missed her father and sisters.

Meanwhile the cobbler had chicken and beef aplenty every day, and was quite well off. One day Peppa and Nina said to him, “Father, will you take us to see our sister?”

They went to the palace where they had found the fennel, knocked on the trapdoor, and the youth invited them in. Nunzia was delighted to see her sisters again, and showed them around the house. Only one room did she refuse to open.

“Why not? What's in there?” asked the sisters, consumed with curiosity.

“I don't know. Not even I have ever been in there. My husband has forbidden me to enter that room.”

Then she went off to arrange her hair, and her sisters insisted on helping her. They undid her tress, inside which they found a key. “This,” whispered Peppa to Nina, “must be the key to the room she wouldn't show us!” And pretending to dress her hair, they unfastened the key, then stole off to open up the room.

Inside the room were numerous women: some embroidered, others sewed, and the rest cut out clothes. And they sang:

 

“Bundles and clothes we create

For the king's son they await!”

 

“Ah, our sister is expecting a baby and didn't tell us!” exclaimed the sisters. But in that instant, the women in the room, realizing they were being observed, went from beautiful to ugly and changed into lizards and green reptiles. Peppa and Nina fled.

Seeing them so upset, Nunzia asked, “What's the matter, sisters?”

“Nothing, we just wanted to tell you goodbye, for we are leaving now.”

“So soon?”

“Yes, we must go home.”

“But what happened to you?”

“Well, we took the key you had in your hair, and opened that door . . . ”

“Oh, my sisters! That will be my undoing!”

As a matter of fact, those women in the room, who were none other than fairies, went to the young man, whom they were holding prisoner
there underground, and said, “You must send your wife away. Immediately.”

“Why?” he asked, with tears in his eyes.

“You must send her away at once. Orders are orders, is that clear?”

So the poor husband, whose heart was breaking, had to go to her and say, “You must leave the house at once, it's the fairies' order; otherwise I'm done for!”

“My sisters have brought about my downfall!” she said, bursting into tears. “Now where will I go?”

“Take this ball of yarn,” he said. “Tie one end to the doorknob and walk off unwinding it. Where the yarn runs out, stop.”

Sorrowful, Nunzia obeyed; the ball turned and turned as she walked on and on, and it seemed to have no end. She passed under the balcony of a magnificent palace, and there the ball came to an end. It was the palace of King Crystal.

Nunzia called, and the maids appeared. “Please put me up for tonight,” she said. “I don't know where to go, and I'm expecting a baby!”—because in the meantime she had discovered that she was with child.

The maids went to tell King Crystal and the queen, but they replied they would open their door to no one under the sun. Note that many years prior to this, their son had been carried off by the fairies, and they had not seen hide nor hair of him since. They were therefore highly distrustful of strange women.

“Could I just stay in the henhouse, for one night?” asked the poor thing.

Moved to pity, the maids persuaded the king and queen to let her stay in the henhouse, and they took her a little bread, as she was starving to death. They wanted to hear her story, but she only shook her head and repeated, “Ah, if you only knew! If you only knew!”

That very night she gave birth to a fine baby boy, and a maid went at once to tell the queen. “Majesty, you should see the beautiful baby this foreign woman has just had! He looks exactly like your son!”

Meanwhile the fairies said to the youth, who was still underground, “Did you know your wife gave birth to a fine baby boy? Would you like to come see it tonight?”

“If only I could! Will you take me to him?”

That night a knock was heard on the henhouse door. “Who is it?”

“Open up, it's me, your baby's father.” And in walked Nunzia's husband, who was the king's son kidnapped by the fairies; they were now bringing him back to see his own son. Behind him came all the fairies, and the henhouse was immediately tapestried and carpeted in gold; the
couch was decked with a gold-embroidered counterpane, the baby's cradle turned gold, and everything glittered, making it look like day, while music played and the fairies sang and danced, and the prince rocked the baby and said:

 

“If my father knew

That you are his son's son,

In clothes of gold would you be wrapped,

In cradles of gold would you be rocked;

I would be with you day and night in one,

Sleep, sleep, O royal son!”

 

And as they danced, the fairies went to the window and sang:

 

“Let the cocks crow not yet,

The clock strike not yet,

The time is not yet, not yet, not yet.”

 

Let's leave them and go to the queen. A maid came to her and said, “My queen, my queen, let me tell you! The strangest things you ever saw are going on in the foreign woman's roost! It's no longer a henhouse, but all bright like Paradise. You can hear somebody singing who sounds exactly like your son. Just listen!”

The queen went to the door of the henhouse and listened. But at that moment a rooster crowed, and nothing more was heard, nor did light shine any longer under the door.

That morning the queen herself decided to take the foreign woman her coffee. “Will you please tell me who was here last night?”

“Oh, I'm not at liberty to say, but even if I were, what could I tell you? I wish I knew myself who it is!”

“But who can it be?” said the queen. “What if it were my son?”—and she went on so, until the foreigner finally told her whole story from the beginning, how she'd gone out for herbs, and all the rest.

“Then you are my son's wife?” asked the queen, embracing and kissing her. “Ask him tonight what is needed to free him.”

That night, at the same time, the fairies gathered with the king's son. The fairies began dancing, while he rocked his son, singing all the while:

 

“If my father knew That you are his son's son,

In clothes of gold would you be wrapped,

In cradles of gold would you be rocked;

I would be with you day and night in one,

Sleep, sleep, O royal son!”

 

While the fairies danced, the wife said to her husband, “Tell me what is needed to free you!”

“You'll have to see that the cocks don't crow, the clock doesn't strike, nor the bells ring. Cover the window with a dark cloth with the moon and stars embroidered on it, so that you can't see when it's daytime. Once the sun is high in the sky, pull away the cloth, and the fairies will turn into lizards and green reptiles and flee.”

The next morning, the king had his crier announce this order:
SILENCE ALL BELLS AND CLOCKS, AND BUTCHER ALL YOUR COCKS!

Everything was readied, and that night, at the usual time, the fairies began dancing and making music, while the king's son sang:

 

“If my father knew That you are his son's son,

In clothes of gold would you be wrapped,

In cradles of gold would you be rocked;

I would be with you day and night in one,

Sleep, sleep, O royal son!”

 

And the fairies went to the window singing:

 

“Let the cocks crow not yet,

The clocks strike not yet,

The time is not yet, not yet, not yet.”

 

They danced and sang the whole night long, and they continued to go to the window and, seeing that it was still night, they repeated:

 

“Let the cocks crow not yet,

The clocks strike not yet,

The time is not yet, not yet, not yet.”

 

When the sun was directly overhead, the curtain was drawn back. Some fairies became snakes, others green lizards, and they all fled.

The king's son and his wife embraced the king and the queen.

 

They were always happy as could be,

While here we are without a penny.

 

(
Salaparuta
)

175

Time and again the tale has been told of a king who had a marriageable daughter as lovely as lovely could be. One day he called her and said, “My daughter, you've reached the age when it is fitting to marry. I'm going to notify all my fellow monarchs and friends that a grand celebration will be held on a certain day. They'll all attend, and you will take your pick.”

The day arrived, and all the monarchs showed up, each one accompanied by his entire family. Of all those present, it was the son of King Garnet that the princess fell in love with. She informed her father of her choice. You are well aware of how news spreads among friends: King Garnet's son found out he was the lucky man, and rejoiced. Noon rolled around and everybody sat down to the king's banquet of fifty-seven courses. For dessert, pomegranates were served. Now pomegranates are not to be found in every country, and they were altogether unknown at King Garnet's court. The prince started in on one, but dropped a seed on the floor. Thinking it might be something very valuable, he bent over to pick it up. When the princess, who hadn't been able to take her eyes off of him, saw that, she rose from the table and, flushed with anger, ran and locked herself in her room. Her father, the king, followed her to see what was the matter. He found her weeping. “Papa, I really liked that boy, but I now see he's a small-minded person and I want nothing more to do with him.”

The king returned to the table, thanked all the monarchs for coming, and bid them goodbye. But that was too much for King Garnet's son. Instead of leaving, he disguised himself as a peasant and began skirting the palace. Now at the royal palace they were looking for a gardener. Since he knew something about gardening, he applied for the post. An agreement was reached over the salary, instructions were given him, and he became the royal gardener. He had a cottage in the garden and carried to it a trunk containing gifts intended for his betrothed, pretending the trunk was full of his clothing.

Across the cottage window, he stretched a shawl embroidered in gold. The window of the princess faced upon the garden, and as she looked out, the gleam of the shawl caught her eye. She called the gardener. “Tell me, whose shawl is that?”

“Mine.”

“Will you sell it to me?”

“Never.”

She then ordered her maids to try to persuade him to sell her the shawl. The maids offered him any amount of money, and even to exchange the shawl for something else of value, but all to no avail. At last the gardener said, “I would give her the shawl, if only she would let me sleep in the first room of her apartment.”

The maids burst out laughing and ran off to tell the princess. Then, discussing the matter, they said, “But if he's so foolish as to want to sleep in the first room of your apartment, why not let him? No one will be the wiser for it, it will cost us nothing, no harm can come of it, and you will get the shawl.” So the princess consented. At night when the whole house was sleeping, they called him in and left him there to sleep. They woke him up early the next morning and escorted him out. And he handed over the shawl.

A week later, the gardener hung up a second shawl more beautiful than the first. The princess wanted it, but for this one the gardener was asking to sleep in the second room of her apartment. “You let him sleep in the first room, so you might as well put him to bed in the second!” reasoned the maids, and it was granted him.

Another week went by, and the gardener put on display a gown embroidered in gold and adorned with pearls and diamonds. The princess fell in love with it, but to get it there was nothing else to do but let the gardener sleep in the third chamber of her apartment—that is, in the antechamber of the princess's bedroom. What was there to be afraid of, since that poor gardener was certainly half crazy?

The gardener stretched out on the floor, as on the other nights, and pretended to sleep. He waited for the moment when everyone would surely be asleep and then, as if seized with a chill, he began to shake all over, while his teeth chattered noisily. He was propped against the princess's door and, with all his trembling, made it sound like a drum being rolled. The princess woke up and, because of that racket, found it impossible to go back to sleep. She told him to be quiet. “I'm cold!” he moaned, trembling all the more. Unable to calm him down and fearing they would hear him in the palace and learn of her strange pact with the gardener, she finally got up and opened the door. “He's so simple-minded,” she thought to herself, “no harm can possibly come of it.”