Italian Folktales (79 page)

She went home quite long-faced, and the king said, “My daughter,
such a contest was your idea, and now it is your turn to be angry, whatever good that will do you.”

But let's leave the princess and turn to Lightning Streak. He went back to the inn and sat down to a feast with his companions. Right in the middle of it, Rabbitears said “Shhh!” and put his ear to the ground the way he always did. ‘We're in trouble. The princess says she won't have you for a husband at any cost. She says the race won't count, that another one must be run. She's now asking a sorceress to find a way to make you lose. And the sorceress tells her she'll cast a spell over a precious stone and have it set in a ring. The princess is to give you the ring before the race, and once you have it on your finger you'll no longer be able to remove it, and your legs will give way beneath you.”

“That is where I come in,” said Blindstraight. “Before the start of the race, hold out your hand, and I will shoot the stone out of the ring with an arrow. Then we'll see what our princess can do!”

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” they all shouted, and worried no more about it.

The next morning a note came to the sick youth from the princess congratulating him on his friend's skill; but if he didn't mind, she wanted to run another race next Sunday.

Sunday even more people lined the street than the first time. At the appointed hour, she came out with her legs bared like an acrobat's. She approached the Italian and offered him a ring. “Good youth, since you are the only one ever to defeat me in a race, I am presenting you with this ring as a remembrance from your friend's bride.” She slipped the ring on his finger, and his legs started trembling and gave way beneath him. Blindstraight, who was looking straight at him, cried, “Hold out your hand!” Slowly and with great difficulty he stretched out his hand, and right at that moment the trumpet sounded. The princess had already run past him. Blindstraight drew his bow, the arrow knocked the ring off, and Lightning Streak in four bounds was right on the heels of the princess. He leaped over her as in a game of leapfrog, causing her to fall on her face, and ran on ahead.

But the real show was the people! Cheers went up and hats were tossed into the air. Rejoicing over the defeat of the haughty princess, they picked him up and carried him in triumph all over town on their shoulders.

When the five scapegraces were at last alone, they began hugging and slapping one another on the back. “We are rich!” said the youth from Maglie. “Tomorrow I'll be king, and I'd just like to see anyone try to turn you out of the royal palace! Tell me what you want me to name each of you.”

“Chamberlain,” replied one.

“Minister,” said another.

“General,” put in a third.

But Rabbitears motioned to them to be silent. “A message is coming through!” And he threw himself to the ground to listen. At the royal palace they were talking about offering a large sum of money as a settlement and refusing him the princess's hand.

“Here's where I come into the picture,” announced Strongback. “I'll make them pay, down to their very souls.”

The next morning, the youth from Maglie dressed up and went to the palace. Outside the throne room, he met a councilor. “My son, will you take advice from someone older than you? If you marry that madwoman, you're doing nothing but taking the devil into your home. Instead, ask for whatever sum you wish, and go in peace.”

“Thank you for your advice,” replied the youth, “but I don't like naming a round sum. Let's do it this way: I'll send a friend of mine to you, and you load onto his back all you can.”

So Strongback showed up with fifty hundred-pound sacks and said, “My friend sent me here for you to load me down.”

All the people at court looked at one another, certain that this young man was mad. “I'm serious,” he said, “hurry up!” They entered the treasury and proceeded to fill one of the sacks. Twenty persons were then needed to lift it. When they finally got it on his back, they asked, “Will that do?”

“Are you joking?” he asked. “To me that's like a tiny straw.”

They went on filling sacks and exhausted the pile of gold. Then they started on the pile of silver, and all their silver ended up on Strongback. Next they took up copper, and not even that sufficed. They crammed in all the candlesticks and crockery, and Strongback still did not stoop under the weight.

“How do you feel?” they asked.

“Shall we bet I can even take on the palace?”

His companions came along and saw a mountain advancing all by itself on two little feet, and they all left the city, in gay spirits.

They had gone five or six miles when Rabbitears, who bent over to listen from time to time, said, “Friends, at the royal palace, they are in council. Can you imagine what the councilor is saying? ‘Majesty, is it possible that four good-for-nothings have left us stark naked, that we can't even buy a penny's worth of bread? They took everything we owned! Quick, let's send a regiment after them and blow them to bits!'”

“If that's the case,” said the youth from Maglie, “we are done for. We
got out of all the other difficulties, but now what can we do against shotguns?”

“Silly youth!” exclaimed Puffarello. “Have you forgotten that I can whip up a hurricane and knock every one of them down? You go on ahead, and I'll show you what I can do!”

Hoofbeats were heard just then. As soon as they came within range, Puffarello began blowing, gently at first—ff, ff—then stronger—fffffff!—blinding them with clouds of dust; then with all his might—fffffffffffffffffffffffff!—and the soldiers fell beneath their horses, trees were uprooted, walls crumbled, cannons went whirling through the air!

When he was certain of having dashed them all to bits, Puffarello rejoined his companions and said, “The king of France was not expecting that! Let him remember it and tell his sons.”

So they returned to Maglie by the grace of God, divided up the fortune, each taking four million, and whenever they were all together after that, they would say, “Down with the king of France and that mad daughter of his!”

 

(
Terra d'Otranto
)

127

There was once a mother and a son. The mother sent her son to a monk to be instructed in godly matters, but the boy was in no mood to learn a thing. The neighbors advised her to send him to the village school, where Schoolmaster Squall kept them hopping. Master Squall tried his best, but he couldn't even drum into the boy his A-B-C-'s, so he finally kicked him out of school. The boy went home jumping for joy. Seeing him back, his mother grabbed the broom and thrashed him. “Get out of my house, you rascal! Don't ever let me see you again!”

He left home and set out on the road. After some distance, he came to a garden with no wall around it. As he was hungry, he climbed a pear tree and started eating pears.

Right in the middle of his meal, he heard, “H'm, h'm! I smell human flesh around here!” Under the pear tree appeared Pappy Ogre, the owner of the garden, sniffing the air.

“I am indeed human flesh,” said the boy in the pear tree. “I'm a poor lad kicked out of the house by his mother.”

“Come down, then,” said Pappy Ogre, “and I'll take you to my house.”

He took him home, dressed him in other clothes, and let him stay there. “You will live with me now, and no one will beat you any more.” Every morning Pappy went out to work and carried the boy along. That continued for two years. Then one day the boy was very long-faced.

“Why do you look so sad?” asked Pappy.

“I want to see my mamma. Goodness knows how many tears she's shed since I left.”

“You're really worrying about your mamma? I'll let you go see her, then. I'll give you a donkey to take her as a present. When you get home, take him inside and say: “Ari-ari, donkey, donkey, money, money!” And the donkey will drop money from his rear end. But watch out along the way that nobody steals him from you!”

The boy departed with the donkey. After going half a mile, he said to himself, “I just want to see if this donkey really drops money.” He looked about him to be sure no one was around, dismounted, and said, “Ari-ari, donkey, donkey, money, money!” The donkey went “Prrrr-rrrrrr!” raised its tail, and dropped numbers and numbers of coins.

Pappy Ogre, who had climbed up in the tower of his house to spy on the boy's movements, said, “There, he's gone and done it!”

The boy stuffed his pockets with coins and got back on the donkey. He came to an inn and asked for the best room in the house for his donkey. The innkeeper wanted to know why.

“Because my donkey drops money.”

“What do you mean, he drops money?”

“You have only to say, ‘Ari-ari, money, money!'”

“Oh, no, my boy,” replied the innkeeper, “we'll put him in the stable and cover him up with a sack so he won't sweat. Don't worry, no one will touch him.”

With all that money, the boy ordered his fill of food and drink, then went off to bed. The innkeeper went down into the stable, took away the boy's donkey, and left in its place one that looked just like it. The boy got up in the morning and asked, “You didn't say a word to my donkey, did you?”

“No, what should I have said to him?”

“All right, all right,” he replied. He then climbed on the donkey and rode home to his mother. “Open up, Mamma, your Tony's home!”

“Merciful heavens! So you're finally back! I thought you'd fallen off the face of the earth!”

The son walked in. “How are you doing, Mamma?”

“I'm worn out! I washed a tubful of stuff and, for all my work, earned a few peas!”

“Is that so? You're eating this mess?” He picked up the pot and threw it out the door. Just imagine how the poor woman screamed and wailed when she saw her peas go sailing through the air!

“Don't cry, Mamma, I'll make you rich!” He pulled the blanket off the bed and spread it on the floor, then led in the donkey and said, “Ari-ari, money, money!”

Yes, he really expected the donkey to drop gold! “Ari-ari, money, money!” he continued to say, but nothing dropped. Then he grabbed a stick and—bam, bam, bam!—thrashed him so hard that the donkey at last let out everything he had inside him. When the mother saw the blanket full of manure, she jerked the stick out of his hand and began pounding him.

Long-faced, the son made his way back to Pappy Ogre's. When Pappy saw him, he said, “So you've come back, have you? Very well, you'll settle down now and not cry for Mamma any more.”

A little time went by, and the boy began whining to go see his mamma. Pappy gave him a table napkin and said, “Don't do anything foolish. When you get to Mamma's, say, ‘My table napkin, make ready the table!'”

The boy left. When he came to the place where he'd tested the donkey, he pulled out the napkin and said, “My table napkin, make ready the table!” Out came all kinds of good things—macaroni, meatballs, sausage, blood pudding, tasty wine.

“What a feast!” he sighed. “Now Mamma need weep no more over spilled peas!”

He ate his fill and more besides, then said, “My table napkin, clear the table!” and was on his way once more. He came to the same inn. The minute they saw him, they all asked, “Well, Tony, how is everything?”

“Fine. What's for dinner?”

“A few turnips and Neapolitan kidney beans, my son, since this is an inn for carters!”

“Pooh! I'm not eating that disgusting stuff. I'll now show you what a real meal is.” He pulled out the napkin and said, “My table napkin, make ready the table!” Out came poached fish, baked fish, veal cutlet, wine, and all kinds of other good things. When he'd eaten his fill and more besides, he stuffed the napkin into his vest pocket and said, “I'd just like to see you make off with this the way you did with the donkey! Look
where I'm putting it!” But right at that moment, from all he'd eaten and drunk, he fell fast asleep and had to be carried off to bed. They took the napkin away and left him one that looked just like it. The next morning he got up, saying, “So you didn't take this away from me!” Then he continued his journey.

He reached his mother's and knocked at the door. “Who is it?”

“It's me, Mamma.”

“Oh, dear, you're back again? Away with you! Get away from this house.”

“No, Mamma, let me in. This time I have something for you that will make you happy for life!”

When his mother let him in, he asked, “What's for supper tonight?”

“What am I having? A few mustard greens I picked behind the statue of Our Lady of Sorrows in the master's garden.”

The son grabbed the frying pan and emptied it out the window.

“You murderer! You wretch! You're forcing me to go hungry again. God knows how Vito Borgia abused me when he caught me picking the greens, and now you come, you murderer, and pitch them out the window!”

“No, no, dear Mamma!” he replied. “Take this rag of a table napkin and just see what comes out of it. My table napkin, make ready the table! My table napkin, make ready the table!”

But no matter how many times he repeated “My table napkin, make ready the table!” absolutely nothing happened. He yanked it this way and that, reducing it to tatters good for nothing but a dishrag. His mother gave him a mighty whack and once more turned him out of the house.

So he went back to Pappy once more. “What happened to you this time, stupid boy? Didn't I tell you that you'd get into more trouble?” The boy had no choice, then, but return to his former routine, digging in the field.

After a while, though, he was again yearning for his mother. Pappy said, “All right, my son, this is the last time. Take this club and, when you get to your mother's, say, ‘My club, let me have it, let me have it!'”