Italian Folktales (86 page)

“No, Mother, for if you look upon him, my luck will leave me.”

“But you can at least let me see the place where he appears. That much you can do!”

So the girl ended up taking her mother there.

“This is the market-garden, and this is the savoy. Now goodbye, Mother, you must go.”

The old woman pretended to leave, but hid behind a walnut tree instead. Filomena pulled up the savoy, threw in the crown, saw the little window; but this time there was no Filo d'Oro peering through the crystal panes. The old woman who was dying to see what her son-in-law looked like, threw a walnut at the window. The panes shattered, and the youth's face appeared, flushed with rage, then immediately vanished along with the window and everything else. Back came the savoy where it had been, but it could no longer be uprooted as before.

Filo d'Oro, mind you, was the son of an ogress, who wanted to marry him to a princess; but the fairies had destined him to wed a shoemaker's daughter. So the ogress had said, “May you see only one woman in the world, and should you look upon a second, may you die!” And to keep him from seeing any women except the one he would wed, she had shut him up in that underground dwelling.

The fairies, who wanted to rescue him from his mother's curse, had brought it about that the first woman seen by Filo d'Oro was Filomena, and they made him fall in love with her. But the minute he saw her mother, the curse took effect, and he died in the ogress's arms.

Finding herself with a dead son on her hands, and all because of her curse, the ogress began tearing out her hair. As Filo d'Oro had formerly been put under a spell by the fairies, his dead body did not decay. His mother buried him up to the waist and went to look on his beautiful face every day and weep.

Meanwhile Filomena, grieved over the disappearance of her bride
groom, had left home and gone out into the world looking for Filo d'Oro. One night she stopped under an oak tree to sleep. In this oak a pair of doves had alighted, and Filomena heard them singing:

 

“Dead is Filo d'Oro,

Coo-coo-roo-COO,

But on lives lovely Filomena . . . 

Coo-coo-roo-COO,

Let her kill us,

Coo-coo-roo-COO,

Then burn us,

Coo-coo-roo-COO,

Then smear him with our ashes,

Coo-coo-roo-COO,

Thus Filo d'Oro would she save,

And he would rise up from his grave,

Coo-coo-roo-COO.”

 

After the song was over, Filomena waited for the two doves to fall asleep; then without a sound, she climbed the oak, grabbed hold of them, and killed them. From her post high in the tree, she saw a little light off in the forest. She came down and made her way toward the light. It came from a hut, and the girl went in and asked for fire to burn up the doves. The hut was occupied by a fairy baker, who put the doves in the fire and, after hearing Filomena's tale, said, “My daughter, keep the dove ashes in this pot, and also carry along this basket of figs with you. Then go up to the ogress's windows. You will find her spinning at the window and, to stretch the thread, she lets the spindle down to the ground from the window. You are to pick up the spindle and stick a fig on it. The ogress will eat the fig, thank you, and invite you in. But be careful, for she can gobble you up. Don't go in until she has sworn by Filo d'Oro's soul not to eat you. Then you'll show her you have the ashes to revive her son, and leave everything else to fate.”

Tickled pink, the maiden thanked the fairy baker and went to the house of the ogress, who was spinning at the window. The girl stuck a fig on the spindle, the ogress drew the spindle up, saw the fig, and ate it. “Excellent!” she exclaimed. “Let the good soul who stuck a fig on my spindle come inside so I can kiss you.”

“No, because you'll eat me!” replied Filomena.

The ogress threw the spindle back out, and Filomena stuck on another fig. “Come in and let me kiss you! I won't eat you, I promise!” said the ogress, after eating the fig.

“I don't trust your promises,” said Filomena, putting another fig on the spindle.

“Come on, I swear by Filo d'Oro's soul I won't eat you.”

So Filomena went inside the house. But when the ogress discovered she was Filo d'Oro's wife bringing ashes to revive him, she took the pot away from her at once and brought her son back to life herself. Then she shut him up underground again so he wouldn't see Filomena, and hatched quick plans to wed him to that princess.

“Really?” commented the fairies, who had decided the shoemaker's daughter would get Filo d'Oro. “In that case, we'll just put a curse on the princess: in one month the earth shall yawn under her feet, and she shall fall into Hell.”

In the meantime the ogress kept Filomena there as her servant, racking her brains for an excuse to gobble her up.

“You must make five down mattresses for Filo d'Oro, who's getting married,” she told her. “Here are the ticks: fill them with down in twenty-four hours' time, or I'll eat you.”

Filomena wrung her hands and wept. But Filo d'Oro, mind you, under the fairies' spell, could change his form and, thus transformed, he came out of the underground palace. He became a man with a beard and went to Filomena. “Lovely maiden,” he said, “kiss me, and I'll get you all the down you need in a flash.”

But Filomena replied, “Were you Filo d'Oro, not one kiss but a thousand would you get. But I refuse to kiss you, even though my life depends on it.”

The bearded man smiled and disappeared. Then through the windows into the room flew thousands of birds of every species. In and out they flew, flapping their wings and strewing the room with feathers galore of every color. The carpet of feathers became thicker and thicker, so in twenty-four hours' time Filomena was able to pack five mattresses as the ogress had ordered.

The ogress said to herself, “This is surely my son's doing. But we'll just see who wins in the long run.” She said to Filomena, “You must go to my ogress sister, who lives on the Mountain of Entertainment, and get her to give you the music box.”

Now to reach the Mountain of Entertainment, it was necessary to cross the River of Serpents, the River of Blood, and the River of Bile, and once you did and got to the ogress's house, you then ran the risk of being eaten alive. All the poor maiden could do was weep.

But lo and behold, here came a man with whiskers, who was none other than Filo d'Oro in disguise. “Give me a kiss,” he said, “and I'll
show you how to make off with the box and get back here safe and sound.”

“Were you Filo d'Oro, I'd give you a thousand kisses,” replied Filomena. “But I would rather end up in the mouths of both ogresses than give you a single kiss.”

Deeply moved by her loyalty, Filo d'Oro said, “Even if you won't kiss me, I'll still help you. When you reach the River of the Serpents, say, ‘Oh, what macaroni! It looks so good I could eat three bowls of it!' When you reach the River of Blood, say, ‘What wine! I'd gladly drink three glasses of it!' At the River of Bile, say, ‘What milk! It looks so good I could drink three cups with pleasure!' That way, you will get to the ogress's house. Take this shovel, which will come in handy. Farewell.” And the man with whiskers disappeared.

Filomena set out, and repeated what the man with whiskers had told her to say. When the serpents heard themselves called macaroni, they separated and let her through. The blood hearing itself called wine also separated, as did the bile upon hearing itself called milk.

She scaled the Mountain of Entertainment and came to the ogress's house, which she entered, scared to death. In the kitchen, a servant was baking bread. This servant girl was a poor maiden like Filomena, and had fallen into the ogress's clutches through misfortune. Three times a week she had to rake the embers out of the oven with her bare hands and put in the bread. The poor thing would suffer terribly from all her burns. But once the bread was baked and removed from the oven, the ogress magically healed the burns, so the girl didn't die. But when time came to bake again, she had to suffer all over.

Seeing Filomena enter, the girl shouted, “Be gone, for heaven's sake! What are you doing here anyway? Don't you know the ogress will eat you?”

“If she doesn't, then her sister will,” said Filomena. “So I might as well get what I came for.”

“What's that?”

“The music box.”

“Listen, we must help each other. I see you are carrying a shovel. Give it to me, so I can put things into the oven and remove them without burning myself, and I'll get you the music box, which I alone can find.”

Filomena gladly gave her the shovel and left with the music box. Meanwhile the ogress returned, missed the box, and screamed, “I've been robbed! Serpents, eat her alive!”

“No,” said the serpents. “She called us macaroni!” At that, they let her through.

“Blood! Drown her!”

“No,” answered the blood, “she called me wine!” And it let her through.

“Bile! Sweep her under!”

“No,” replied the bile. “She called me milk!” And it let her through.

But once the three rivers were behind her, Filomena was overcome with curiosity to know what music and song were in the box. She opened it, heard a “Zing!” and an “Ooh!” and that was it. The box was empty, music and song had escaped together. Filomena burst into tears.

Lo and behold, here came a man with sideburns, who was none other than Filo d'Oro. “Will you give me a kiss? I'll get music and song back into the box for you.”

As usual, she answered, “If you were Filo d'Oro, one thousand kisses. But for you, nothing.”

“But I am Filo d'Oro!” The man with sideburns disappeared, and in his place stood Filomena's husband. Trembling with emotion, she fell into his arms and kissed him a thousand times, while music and song came back into the box and were heard throughout the countryside.

“Go home in good spirits, Filomena,” said Filo d'Oro, “and we'll be man and wife in three days.”

Overjoyed, the maiden returned to the ogress. Sure that the girl had been swallowed by the rivers or devoured by her sister, the ogress had already set her son's wedding to the princess cursed by the fairies for three days hence. Seeing Filomena walk in with the music box, she turned livid with rage and said, “My son's wedding will take place in three days. You will hold the candlestick during the ceremony.”

Filo d'Oro seemed willing to go through with the ceremony. But he wanted it to take place at midnight. All the guests were waiting, but there was no sign of the wedding procession. Filomena held the candlestick and became more and more uneasy as the minutes ticked by. Lo and behold, here came the procession, with Filo d'Oro holding onto the princess's arm. At that moment the church bell sounded—dong, dong, dong, twelve strokes. The earth yawned beneath the princess, and she disappeared into the flames.

Filo d'Oro took Filomena by the hand. “This is my bride,” he said, and heavenly music wafted from the music box.

Filo d'Oro and Filomena got married. At that, the ogress let out a shriek, put her hands to her forehead, and pronounced this curse: “You who have charmed my son can have a baby without dying in childbirth only when I put my hands to my forehead like this!”

At that threat, Filomena grew weak in the knees. But Filo d'Oro squeezed her hand and gave her courage.

Sometime later, Filomena began expecting a baby. “When you see the
time has come to be delivered of the child,” Filo d'Oro told her, “dress in mourning and go to my mother. She'll ask you the reason for the mourning and you will say, ‘Because Filo d'Oro is dead.'”

Filomena did just that. When the ogress heard “Filo d'Oro is dead,” she put her hands to her forehead, very upset and crying, “My poor son,” and Filomena gave birth right away, with no risk, to a fine baby boy.

Filo d'Oro then came in and, seeing him alive, the ogress forgave him and his wife and blessed the baby. So they lived in peace all the rest of their days.

 

(
Basilicata
)

137

There were once two brothers, it is said—one a rich cobbler, the other a poor farmer. One day the farmer was in the country and saw thirteen men under an oak tree, each with a wicked-looking knife that would scare anyone to death. Bandits! thought the farmer, and hid. He watched them go up to the oak tree and heard their chief say, “Open up, oak!” The trunk yawned, and one by one the bandits went in. The farmer continued to watch from his hiding place. In a little while the bandits came out, one by one, with the leader bringing up the rear. “Close up, oak!” he said, and the oak went back together.

When the bandits were gone, the farmer decided to try it himself. He went up to the tree and said, “Open up, oak!” The tree opened, and he went in. There were stairs that led underground. He went down and found himself in a cave containing thirteen piles of treasure from floor to ceiling; there were several heaps of gold, several of diamonds, and several of napoleons. The farmer stared and stared, feasting his eyes on all the glitter, and once his eyes had got their fill he proceeded to fill his pockets, beginning with those in his coat, then those in his pants; finally he pulled his pants up tight against his seat and crammed all the empty space with gold pieces and went slowly jingling home.

“What happened to you?” asked his wife, when he came walking in like that. He emptied pockets and pants and told her everything. He
thought he could best count the money by using one of those bottles in which wine is measured; but having nothing like that on hand, he had to send to his brother's to borrow one. The cobbler wondered, “What on earth could my brother be measuring? He never has anything to his name. I shall find out.” So what did he do but stick a fishbone on the bottom of the measuring bottle.