A YARD OF NOSE.1

A YARD OF NOSE.1There was once a poor orphan youth left all alone, with no home, and no means of gaining a living, and no place of shelter.Not knowing what to do he wandered away over the Campagna, straight on; when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness, he at last saw a fig-tree covered with ripe figs.‘There’s a godsend!’ said the poor orphan; and he set to upon the figs without ceremony. But, lo! he had scarcely eaten half-a-dozen when his nose began to feel very odd; he put his hand up to it and it felt much bigger than usual; however, he was too hungry to trouble himself about it, and he ate on. As he ate on his nose felt queerer and queerer; he put his hand up and found it was quite a foot2long! But he was so hungry he went on eating still, and before he had done he had fully a yard of nose.‘A pretty thing I have done for myself now! As well might I have died of starvation as make myselfsuch an object as this! Never can I appear among civilised beings again.’ And he laid himself down to sleep, hiding himself in the foliage of the fig-tree lest anybody passing by should see his nose.In the morning the first thing he thought of when he awoke was his nose; he had no need to put up his hand to feel it for it reached down to his hand, a full yard of it waggling about.‘There’s no help for it,’ he said. ‘I must keep away from all habitable places, and live as best I may.’So he wandered on and on over the Campagna away from all habitations, straight on; and when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness he saw another fig-tree covered with ripe figs.Right glad he was to see anything in the shape of food. ‘If it had only been anything else in the world but figs!’ he said. ‘If I go on at this rate I shan’t be able to carry my nose along at all! Yet starving is hard, too, and I’m such a figure now, nothing can make me much worse, so here goes!’ and he began eating at the figs without more ado.As he ate this time, however, his nose, instead of feeling queerer and queerer as it had before, began to feel lighter and lighter.Less, less, and still less it grew,3till at last he had to put his hand up to feel where it was, and by the time he had done eating, it was just its natural size again.‘NowI know how to make my fortune!’4he cried, and he danced for delight.With a basketful of the figs of the first tree he trudged to the nearest town, still clad in his peasant’s dress, and cried, ‘Fine figs! fine figs! who’ll buy my beautiful ripe figs!’All the people ran out to see the new fruit-seller, and his figs looked so tempting that plenty of people bought of him. Among the foremost was the host of theinn, with his wife and his buxom daughter, and every one of them, as they ate the figs their noses began to grow and grow till everyone of them had a nose fully a yard long.Then there was a hue and cry through the whole town, everyone with his yard of nose dangling and waggling, came running out, calling, ‘Ho! Here! Wretch of a fruit-seller!’5But our fruit-seller had had the good sense to foresee the coming storm, and had taken care to get far out of the way of pursuit.But the next day he dressed himself like a doctor, all in black, with a long false beard, and came to the same town, where he entered the druggist’s6shop, and gave himself out for a great doctor.‘You come in good season!’ said the druggist. ‘A doctor is wanted here just now, if ever one was, for to everyone almost in the town is grown a nose7so big! so big! in fact, a full yard of nose! Anyone who could reduce these noses might make a fortune indeed!’‘Why, that’s just what I excel at of all things. Let me see some of these people,’ answered our pretended doctor.The druggist looked incredulous at a real remedy turning up so very opportunely; but at the same moment a pretty peasant girl came into the shop to buy some medicine for her mother; that is, she would have been pretty if it had not been for the terrible nose, which made a fright of her. The false doctor was seized with compunction when he saw what a fright his figs had made of this pretty girl, and he took out some figs of the other tree and gave her to eat, and immediately her tremendous nose grew less, and less, and less, and she was a pretty girl again. Of course it need not be said that he did not give her the figs in their natural state and form; he had peeled and pounded, and made them up with other things to disguise them.The druggist no sooner saw this wonderful cure than he was prompt to publish it, and there was quite a strife who should have the new doctor the first.It was the innkeeper who succeeded in being the first to possess himself of him. ‘What will you give me for the cure?’ said the strange doctor.‘Whatever you have the conscience to ask,’ replied the host, panting to be rid of the monstrosity.‘Four thousand scudi apiece,’ replied the false doctor; and the host, his wife, and his buxom daughter stood in a row waiting to be cured. With the same remedy that had cured the peasant girl he cured the host first, and next his daughter. After he had cured her he said, ‘Instead of the second premium of four thousand scudi, I will take the hand of your daughter, if you like?’‘Yes, if you wish; it’s a very good idea,’ replied the host.‘Never, while I live!’ said the wife.‘Why not? He’s a very good husband!’ said the host.‘An ugly old travelling doctor, who comes no one knows whence, to marry my daughter indeed!’ said the wife.‘I’m sure we’re under great obligations to his cleverness,’ said the husband.‘Then let him be paid his price, and go about his business, and not talk impudence!’ said the wife.‘But I choose that heshallmarry her!’ said the husband.‘AndIchoose that he shan’t,’ said the wife; ‘and you’ll find that much stronger.’Just then a customer came in, and the host had to go and attend upon him, and while he was gone the wife called the servants, and bade them turn the doctor out, and give him a good drubbing into the bargain, saying, ‘I’ll have some other doctor to cure me!’So he left them, and went on curing people’s noses all day, till he had made a lot of money. Then he went away, but limping all the time from the beating he had received. The next day he came back dressed like a Turk, so that no one would have known him for the same man, and he came back to the same inn, saying he, too, could cure noses.The mistress of the inn gave him a hearty welcome, as she was very anxious to find another doctor who could cure her nose.‘My treatment is effectual, but it is rude,’ said the pretended Turk. ‘I don’t know if you’ll like to submit to it.’‘Oh yes! Anything, whatever it may be, only to be rid of this monstrous nose,’ said the hostess.‘Then you must come into a room by yourself with me,’ said the pretended Turk; ‘and I have a stick here made out of the root of a particular tree. I must thump you on the back with it, and in proportion as I thump you the nose will draw in. Of course it will hurt very much, and make you cry out, so you must tell your servants and people outside that however much you may call they are not to come in. For if they should come in and interrupt the cure, it would all have to be begun over again, and all you had suffered would go for nothing.’So the hostess gave strict orders, saying, ‘I am going into this room with the Turk to be cured by him, and however much I may call out, or whatever I may say, mind none of you, on pain of losing your places, open the door, or come near the room.’Then she took the Turk into a room apart, and shut the door. The Turk no sooner got her alone than he made her lie with her face downwards on a sofa, and then—whack, whack, whack!8he gave her such a beating that she felt the effects of it to the end of her days.Of course it was in vain she screamed and roared for help; the servants had had their orders, and none of themdurst approach the room. It was only when she had fainted that the Turk left her alone and went his way.But she never got her nose cured, and he married the pretty peasant girl who was the subject of his first cure.[The two following stories contain a jumbling mixture of the incidents of the three preceding, set in a different framework; more or less mixed up with those in the stories of other countries mentioned at p. 128. Some of those in ‘The Transformation Donkey’ occur in the Siddhi Kür story of ‘The Gold-spitting Prince,’ in ‘Sagas from the Far East,’ but they are constructed into a quite different tale.]1‘Mezza canna di Naso,’half a cane of nose. A cane is the former Roman standard measure, and was exactly equal to two mètres.↑2‘Palmo,’ was the expression used; theCannawas divided into eight palms.↑3‘Calava, calava, calava.’↑4‘Adesso so’ a cavallo.’ ‘Now I am on the way to fortune.’↑5‘Quell’ fruttivendolo’; ‘quell’ uomo’! ‘quella donna!’a vulgar way of calling after people.↑6‘Spezziale,’ a druggist (‘droghiere’ is a grocer). It is the custom in Rome for the doctors of the poor to sit in the druggists’ shops, ready to be called for.↑7‘Nasone,’ a big nose.↑8‘Pīmperte; Pāmperte! Pūmperte!’↑THE CHICORY-SELLER AND THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS.1There was a chicory-seller, with a wife and a son, all of them dying of hunger, and sleeping on the floor because they couldn’t afford a bed. Once when they went out in the morning to gather chicory, the son found such a large plant of it, never was such a plant seen, it took them an hour, working at it together, to pull it up, and it filled two great bags. What is more, when they had got it all up, there was a great hole in the ground.‘What can there be down in that hole?’ said the son. ‘I must go and see!’ In he jumped,2and down he went.Suddenly he found himself in the midst of a splendid palace, and a number of obsequious servants gathered round him. They all bowed to the ground, and said,‘Your lordship! your lordship!’ and asked him what he ‘pleased to want.’So there he was, dressed like a clodhopper, and all these servants dressed like princes, bowing and scraping to him.‘What do I want?’ said the lad; ‘most of all, I want a dinner.’Immediately they brought him a banquet of a dinner, and waited on him all the time. Dinner over, they dressed him like a prince.By-and-by there came in an ugly old hag, as ugly as a witch, who said,‘Good morning, Prince; are you come to marry me?’‘I’m no prince; and I’m not come to marry you most certainly!’ replied the youth.But all the servants standing round made all sorts of gesticulations that he should say ‘yes.’‘It’s no use mouthing at me,’ said the lad; ‘I shall never say “yes” tothat!’But they went on making signs all round that he should say ‘yes,’ till at last they bewildered him so, that, almost without knowing what he did, he said ‘yes.’Directly he had said ‘yes,’ there were thunder and lightning, and thunderbolts, and meteors, and howling of wind, and storm of hail. The youth felt in great fear; but the servants said:‘It is all right. She you thought an old hag is indeed a beautiful princess of eighteen, but she was under a spell; by consenting to marry her you have ended that spell, if you can only stand through the fear of this stormfor three days and three nights, no harm can come to you, and we also shall all be set free.’The whole apartment now seemed on fire, and when that ceased for a time, it seemed to rain fire all around.For two days he managed to endure, but on the third day he got so frightened that he ran away. He had not much bettered his condition, however; for, if he had got away from the magic storms of the under world, he had come into real storms in the actual world, and there he was alone in the Campagna, starving and destitute again.At last an old man appeared, who said to him:‘Why were you so foolish as to run away? You were told no harm could happen to you. Now you have nearly lost all. There is, however, one remedy left. Go on to the top of that high mountain, and gather the grass that grows there, and bring back a large bundle of it, and give it to these people to eat, and that will finish what you have begun. You will marry the princess, and share her kingdom; and all her people will be set free. For all those who waited on you as servants are noblemen of her court, who are under a spell.’‘How am I to get up to the top of that high mountain?’ said the youth; ‘it would take me a life of weariness to arrive there!’‘Take this divining-rod,’ said the old man, ‘and whatever difficulty comes in your way, touch it with this wand, and it will disappear.’The youth took the wand, and bent his steps towards the mountain. There were rivers to be crossed, and steep places to be climbed, and many perils to be encountered, but the wand overcame them all. Arrived at the top, he saw a plat of fine, long grass growing, which he made no doubt was the grass he had to take. But he thought within himself, ‘If this wand can do so much, it can surely give me also a house and a dinner; and, then, why should I toil down this mountain again at all!’‘Rod! rod! give me a nice little house!’ he commanded;3and there was a nice little house on the top of the mountain.‘Rod! rod! give me a good dinner!’ and a good dinner was spread on the table.And thus it was with everything he wanted; so he went on living on the top of the mountain, without thinking of those he had to deliver in the hole under the earth.Suddenly, there stood the old man.4‘You were not sent here to amuse yourself,’ said he, severely. ‘You were sent to fetch the means of delivering others;’ and he took the wand away from him, and touched the casino, and it disappeared, and he was once more left destitute.‘If you would repair the past,’ said the old man, as he went away, ‘gather even now a bundle of grass and take it, and perhaps you will be in time yet; but you will have to toil alone, for you have forfeited the rod. And now, remember this counsel: whoever meets you by the way and asks to buy that grass, sell it to no man, or you are undone.’As there was nothing else to be done, the youth set to work and cut some grass, and then terrible was the way he had to walk to get down again. Storms of fire broke continually over him, and every moment it seemed as though he would be precipitated to the bottom.As he reached the plain a traveller met him.‘Oh, you have some of that grass,’ said he. ‘I was just going up the mountain to get some. If you will give it me, and save my journey, I will give you a prancing horse, all covered with gold trappings studded with precious stones.’But this time the youth began to pay more attention to the injunctions laid upon him, and he shook his head, and walked on.‘Give it me,’ continued the stranger, ‘and I will giveyou in return for it a casino of your own in the Campagna, where you may live all your life.’But the youth shook his head, and continued his way, without so much as answering him.‘Give it me,’ said the stranger the third time, ‘and I will give you gold enough to make you rich all your days.’But the youth stood out the third temptation as well as the other two, and then the stranger disappeared.Without further hindrance he arrived at the chicory-hole, let himself down, and gave the grass to all the people to eat, who were half dead with waiting so long for him; and as they ate, the spell ceased. Only as he had cut the grass in an indolent sort of way, he had not brought so large a quantity as he ought, and there was one poor maiden left for whose deliverance the provision sufficed not.Meantime the whole face of the country was changed. The plain was covered with flourishing cities; over the chicory-hole was a splendid palace, where the maiden, who had under the spell looked like an old hag, took up her abode, and where the old man had promised that he should live with her for his reward.This reward he now came to claim.‘But you have not completed your task,’ said the princess.‘I think I have done a pretty good deal,’ answered the youth.‘But there is that one who is yet undelivered.’‘Oh, I can’t help aboutone. She must manage the best way she can.’‘That won’t do,’ said the princess. ‘If you want to have me, you must complete your work.’So he had to toil all the way up to the top of the mountain, and all the way down again, and at last the work was complete.Then the princess married him, and all went wondrously well.51‘Il Cicoriaro e la Principessa fatata.’↑2‘Fa una zompa;’ ‘zompa’ for ‘zomba,’ properly a blow, a thump; here, ‘jumped down with a noise like a thump.’↑3Bacchettone di comando, suits this use of it better than does the English equivalent.↑4‘Ecco il vecchio!’ such abrupt interruptions, with change of tense, are often introduced with dramatic effect by the narrators. A similar one occurs at p. 133. ‘He sounds the horn and One comes.’↑5‘E tutto andava benone;’ ‘bene,’ well; ‘benone,’ superlatively well.↑THE TRANSFORMATION-DONKEY.1There was once a poor chicory-seller: all chicory-sellers are poor, but this was a very poor one, and he had a large family of daughters and two sons. The daughters he left at home with their mother, but the two sons he took with him to gather chicory. While they were out gathering chicory one day, a great bird flew down before them and dropped an egg and then flew away again. The boys picked up the egg and brought it to their father, because there were some figures like strange writing on it which they could not read; but neither could the father read the strange writing, so he took the egg to a farmer.2The farmer read the writing, and it said:—‘Whoso eats my head, he shall be an emperor.’‘Whoso eats my heart, he shall never want for money.’‘Ho, ho!’ said the farmer to himself, ‘it won’t do to tell the fellow this; I must manage to eat both the head and the heart myself.’ So he said, ‘The meaning of it is that whoever eats the bird will make a very good dinner; so to-morrow when the bird comes back, as she doubtless will to lay another egg, have a good stick ready and knock her down; then you can make a fire, and bake it between the stones, and I will come and eat it with you if you like.’The poor chicory-seller thought his fortune was made when a farmer offered to dine with him, and the hours seemed long enough till next morning came.With next morning, however, came the bird again. The chicory-seller was ready with his stick and knocked her down, and the boys made a fire and cooked the bird. But as they were not very apt at the trussing and cooking, the head dropped into the fire, and the youngest boy said: ‘This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;’ so he ate it. The heart also fell into the fire and got burnt, and the eldest boy said: ‘This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;’ so he ate that.By-and-by the farmer came, and they all sat down on a bank—the farmer quite jovial at the idea of the immense advantage he was going to gain, and the chicory-seller quite elated at the idea of entertaining a farmer.‘Bring forward the roast, boys,’ said the father; and the boys brought the bird.‘What have you done with the head?’ exclaimed the farmer, the moment he saw the bird.‘Oh, it got burnt, and I ate it,’ said the younger boy.The merchant ground his teeth and stamped his foot, but he dared not say why he was so angry; so he sat silent while the chicory-seller took out his knife3and cut the bird up in portions.‘Give me the piece with the heart, if I may choose,’ said the merchant; ‘I’m very fond of birds’ hearts.’‘Certainly, any part you like,’ replied the chicory-seller, nervously turning all the pieces over and over again; ‘but I can’t find any heart. Boys, had the bird no heart?’‘Yes, papa,’ answered the elder brother, ‘it had a heart, sure enough; but it tumbled into the fire and got burnt, and so I ate it.’There was no object in disguising his fury any longer, so the farmer exclaimed testily, ‘Thank you, I’ll nothave any then; the head and the heart are just the only parts of a bird I care to eat.’ And so saying he turned on his heel and went away.‘Look, boys, what you’ve done! You’ve thrown away the best chance we ever had in our lives!’ cried the father in despair.4‘After the farmer had taken dinner with us he must have asked us to dine with him, and, as one civility always brings another, there is no saying what it might not have led to. However, as you have chosen to throw the chance away, you may go and look out for yourselves. I’ve done with you.’ And with a sound cudgelling5he drove them away.The two boys, left to themselves, wandered on till they came to a stable, when they entered the yard and asked to be allowed to do some work or other as a means of subsistence.‘I’ve nothing for you to do,’ said the landlord; ‘but, as it’s late, you may sleep on the straw there, on the condition that you go about your business to-morrow first thing.’The boys, glad to get a night’s lodging on any condition, went to sleep in the straw. When the elder brother woke in the morning he found a box of sequins6under his head.‘How could this have come here,’ soliloquised the boy, ‘unless the host had put it there to see if we were honest? Well, thank God, if we’re poor there’s no danger of either of us taking what doesn’t belong to us.’ So he took the box to the host, and said: ‘There’s your box of sequins quite safe. You needn’t have taken the trouble to test our honesty in that way.’The host was very much surprised, but he thought the best way was to take the money and say nothing but ‘I’m glad to see you’re such good boys.’ So he gave them breakfast and some provisions for the way.Next night they found themselves still in the opencountry and no inn near, and they were obliged to be content to sleep on the bare ground. Next morning when they woke the younger boy again found a box of sequins under his head.‘Only think of that host not being satisfied with trying us once, but to come all this way after us to test our honesty again. However, I suppose we must take it back to him.’So they walked all the way back to the host and said: ‘Here’s your box of sequins back; as we didn’t steal it the first time it was not likely we should take it the second time.’The host was more and more astonished; but he took the money without saying anything, only he praised the boys for being so good and gave them a hearty meal. And they went their way, taking a new direction.The next night the younger brother said: ‘Do you know I’ve my doubts about the host having put that box of sequins under your head. How could he have done it out in the open country without our seeing him? To-night I will watch, and if he doesn’t come, and in the morning there is another box of sequins, it will be a sign that it is your own.’He did so, and next morning there was another box of sequins. So they decided it was honestly their own, and they carried it by turns and journeyed on. About noon they came to a great city where the emperor was lately dead, and all the people were in great excitement about choosing another emperor. The population was all divided in factions, each of which had a candidate, and none would let the candidate of the others reign. There was so much fighting and quarrelling in the streets that the brothers got separated, and saw each other no more.At this time it happened that it was the turn of the younger brother to be carrying the box of sequins. When the sentinels at the gate saw a stranger coming in carryinga box they said, ‘We must see what this is,’ and they took him to the minister. When the minister saw his box was full of sequins he said, ‘This must be our emperor.’ And all the people said, ‘Yes, this is our emperor. Long live our emperor!’ And thus the boy became an emperor.But the elder brother had entered unperceived into the town, and went to ask hospitality in a house where was a woman with a beautiful daughter; so they let him stay. That night also there came a box of sequins under his head; so he went out and bought meat and fuel and all manner of provisions, and gave them to the mother, and said, ‘Because you took me in when I was poor last night, I have brought you all these provisions out of gratitude,’ and for the beautiful daughter he bought silks and damasks, and ornaments of gold. But the daughter said, ‘How comes it, tell me, that you, who were a poor footsore wayfarer last night, have now such boundless riches at command?’ And because she was beautiful and spoke kindly to him, he suspected no evil, but told her, saying, ‘Every morning when I wake now, I find a box of sequins under my head.’‘And how comes it,’ said she, ‘that you find a box of sequins under your head now, and not formerly?’ ‘I do not know,’ he answered,‘unless it be because one day when I was out with father gathering chicory, a great bird came and dropt an egg with some strange writing on it, which we could not read. But a farmer read it for us; only he would not tell us what it said, but that we should cook the bird and eat it. While we were cooking it the heart fell into the fire and got burnt, and I ate it: and when the farmer heard this he grew very angry. I think, therefore, the writing on the egg said that he who ate the heart of the bird should have many sequins.’After this they spent the day pleasantly together; but the daughter put an emetic in his wine at supper, and so made him bring up the bird’s heart, which she kept forherself, and the next morning when he woke there was no box of sequins under his head. When he rose in the morning also the beautiful girl and her mother turned him out of the house, and he wandered forth again.At last, being weary and full of sorrow, he sat down on the ground by the side of a stream crying. Immediately three fairies appeared to him and asked him why he wept. And when he told them, they said to him: ‘Weep no more, for instead of the bird’s heart we give you this sheepskin jacket, the pockets of which will always be full of sequins. How many soever you may take out they will always remain full.’ Then they disappeared; but he immediately went back to the house of the beautiful girl, taking her rich and fine presents; but she said to him, ‘How comes it that you, who had no money left when you went away, have now the means to buy all these fine presents?’ Then he told her of the gift of the three fairies, and they let him sleep in the house again, but the daughter called her maid to her and said: ‘Make a sheepskin jacket exactly like that in the stranger’s room.’ So she made one, and they put it in his room, and took away the one the fairies had given him, and in the morning they drove him from the house again. Then he went and sat down by the stream and wept again; but the fairies came and asked him why he wept; and he told them, saying, ‘Because they have driven me away from the house where I stayed, and I have no home to go to, and this jacket has no more sequins in the pockets.’ Then the fairies looked at the jacket, and they said, ‘This is not the jacket we gave you; it has been changed by fraud:’ so they gave him in place of it a wand, and they said, ‘With this wand strike the table, and whatever you may desire, be it meat or drink or clothes, or whatsoever you may want, it shall come upon the table.’ The next day he went back to the house of the woman and her daughter, and sat down without saying anything, but he struck the table with his wand,wishing for a great banquet, and immediately it was covered with the choicest dishes. There was no need to ask him questions this time, for they saw in what his gift consisted, and in the night, when he was asleep, they took his wand away. In the morning they drove him forth out of the house, and he went back to the stream and sat down to cry. Again the fairies appeared to him and comforted him; but they said, ‘This is the last time we may appear to you. Here is a ring; keep it on your hand; for if you lose this gift there is nothing more we may do for you;’ and they went away. But he immediately returned to the house of the woman and her beautiful daughter. They let him in, ‘Because,’ they said, ‘doubtless the fairies have given him some other gift of which we may take profit.’ And as he sat there he said, ‘All the other gifts of the fairies have I lost, but this one they have given me now I cannot lose, because it is a ring which fits my finger, and no one can take it from my hand.’‘And of what use is your ring?’ asked the beautiful daughter.‘Its use is that whatever I wish for while I have it on I obtain directly, whatever it may be.’‘Then wish,’ said she, ‘that we may be both together on the top of that high mountain, and a sumptuousmerenda7spread out for us.’‘To be sure!’ he replied, and he repeated her wish. Instantly they found themselves on the top of the high mountain with a plentifulmerendabefore them; but she had a vial of opium with her, and while his head was turned away she poured the opium into his wine. Presently after this he fell into a sound sleep, so sound that there was no fear of waking him. Immediately she took the ring from his finger and put it on her own; then she wished that she might be replaced at home and that he might be left on the top of the mountain. And so it was done.In the morning when he woke and found himself all alone on the top of the high mountain and his ring gone, he wept bitter tears, and felt too weary to attempt the descent of the steep mountain side. For three days he remained here weary and weeping, and then, becoming faint from hunger, he took some of the herbs that grew on the mountain top for food. As soon as he had eaten these he was turned into a donkey,8but as he retained his human intelligence, he said to himself, this herb has its uses, and he filled one of the panniers on his back with it. Then he came down from the mountain, and when he was at the foot of it, being hungry with the long journey, he ate of the grass that grew there, and, behold! he was transformed back into his natural shape; so he filled the other basket with this kind of grass and went his way.Having dressed himself like a street seller, he took the basket of the herb which had the property of changing the eater into a donkey, and stood under the window of the house where he had been so evil entreated, and cried, ‘Fine salad! fine salad! who will buy my fine salad?’9‘What is there so specially good about your salad?’ asked the maid, looking out. ‘My young mistress is particularly fond of salad, so if yours is so very superfine, you had better come up.’He did not wait to be twice told. As soon as he saw the beautiful daughter, he said, ‘This is fine salad, indeed, the finest of the fine, all fresh gathered, and the first of its kind that ever was sold.’‘Very likely it’s the first of its kind that ever was sold,’ said she; ‘but I don’t like to buy things I haven’t tried; it may turn out not to be nice.’‘Oh, try it, try it freely; don’t buy without trying;’ and he picked one of the freshest and crispest bunches.She took one in her hand and bit a few blades, and no sooner had she done so than she too became a donkey. Then he put the panniers on her back and drove her allover the town, constantly cudgelling her till she sank under the blows. Then one who saw him belabour her thus, said, ‘This must not be; you must come and answer before the emperor for thus belabouring the poor brute;’ but he refused to go unless he took the donkey with him; so they went to the emperor and said, ‘Here is one who is belabouring his donkey till she has sunk under his blows, and he refuses to come before the emperor to answer his cruelty unless he bring his donkey with him.’ And the emperor made answer, ‘Let him bring the beast with him.’So they brought him and his donkey before the emperor. When he found himself before the emperor he said, ‘All these must go away; to the emperor alone can I tell why I belabour my donkey.’ So the emperor commanded all the people to go to a distance while he took him and his donkey apart. As soon as he found himself alone with the emperor he said, ‘See, it is I, thy brother!’ and he embraced him. Then he told him all that had befallen him since they parted. Then said the emperor to the donkey, ‘Go now with him home, and show him where thou hast laid all the things—the bird’s heart, the sheepskin jacket, the wand, and the ring, that he may bring them hither; and if thou deliver them up faithfully I will command that he give thee of that grass to eat which shall give thee back thy natural form.’So they went back to the house and fetched all the things, and the emperor said, ‘Come thou now and live with me, and give me of thy sequins, and I will share the empire with thee.’ Thus they reigned together.But to the donkey they gave of the grass to eat, which restored her natural form, only that her beauty was marred by the cudgelling she had received. And she said, ‘Had I not been so wilful and malicious I had now been empress.’[In these stories we have had the actions of threeFate, somewhat resembling English fairies; in the following, we meet with three who, as often happens in Roman stories, are nothing better than witches.]1‘La Somara.’↑2The ‘mercante di Campagna’ occupies the place of farmer in thesocial system of Rome; that is, he produces and deals in grain and cattle; there is ‘buttaro’ (cattle breeder) besides; but the characteristics of each are so different that the one does not well translate the other.↑3‘Cortello’ for ‘coltello’ (a knife). The substitution ofrforlin a good many words is a common Romanism.↑4‘Dishperato’ for ‘disperato’ (‘out of himself with vexation’), is another Romanism; as also↑5‘Bashtonata’ for ‘bastonata’ (a cudgelling); at least many Romans, particularly old-fashioned people, when using some words in whichspandstoccur, put in anhon occasions requiring great vehemence of expression.↑6Zecchini. Thezecchinowas the gold standard coin in Rome before that of thescudowas adopted. Its value was fixed in the reign of Clement XIII., 1758, at two scudi and twenty bajocchi—something between 10s.and 11s.; it was current till a few years back; and ‘zecchini’ is a common way of saying ‘money’ when a large sum is spoken of, just as we still talk of guineas.↑7‘Merenda’ is a supplementary meal taken at any time of day. It is not exactly lunch, because the habit of taking lunch at one and dining late has not yet obtained to any great extent in Rome; and where it has, lunch is called ‘déjeûner’; breakfast (i.e. a cup of coffee and a roll early in the morning) is always called ‘colazione.’ The established custom of Rome is dinner (‘pranzo,’ or ‘desinare,’) at twelve, and supper (‘cena’) an hour or two after the Ave, varying, therefore, according to the time of year, from six or seven till nine or ten, and even later. ‘Merenda’ is a light meal between ‘pranzo’ and ‘cena’ of not altogether general use, and chiefly on occasions of driving outside the gates to spend the afternoon at a country villa or casino.↑8‘Soma’ is a burden; ‘somaro’ or ‘somura’ an ass used for carrying burdens. Thus in the next line it is spoken of as having panniers on as a matter of course.↑9‘Che bell’ insalatina; chi vuol insalatina; che bell’ insalatina!’ a common form of crying. ‘Che belle mela!’ ‘What fine apples!’ ‘Che belle persiche!’ or ‘What fine peaches!’ may be heard all the year round.↑

A YARD OF NOSE.1There was once a poor orphan youth left all alone, with no home, and no means of gaining a living, and no place of shelter.Not knowing what to do he wandered away over the Campagna, straight on; when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness, he at last saw a fig-tree covered with ripe figs.‘There’s a godsend!’ said the poor orphan; and he set to upon the figs without ceremony. But, lo! he had scarcely eaten half-a-dozen when his nose began to feel very odd; he put his hand up to it and it felt much bigger than usual; however, he was too hungry to trouble himself about it, and he ate on. As he ate on his nose felt queerer and queerer; he put his hand up and found it was quite a foot2long! But he was so hungry he went on eating still, and before he had done he had fully a yard of nose.‘A pretty thing I have done for myself now! As well might I have died of starvation as make myselfsuch an object as this! Never can I appear among civilised beings again.’ And he laid himself down to sleep, hiding himself in the foliage of the fig-tree lest anybody passing by should see his nose.In the morning the first thing he thought of when he awoke was his nose; he had no need to put up his hand to feel it for it reached down to his hand, a full yard of it waggling about.‘There’s no help for it,’ he said. ‘I must keep away from all habitable places, and live as best I may.’So he wandered on and on over the Campagna away from all habitations, straight on; and when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness he saw another fig-tree covered with ripe figs.Right glad he was to see anything in the shape of food. ‘If it had only been anything else in the world but figs!’ he said. ‘If I go on at this rate I shan’t be able to carry my nose along at all! Yet starving is hard, too, and I’m such a figure now, nothing can make me much worse, so here goes!’ and he began eating at the figs without more ado.As he ate this time, however, his nose, instead of feeling queerer and queerer as it had before, began to feel lighter and lighter.Less, less, and still less it grew,3till at last he had to put his hand up to feel where it was, and by the time he had done eating, it was just its natural size again.‘NowI know how to make my fortune!’4he cried, and he danced for delight.With a basketful of the figs of the first tree he trudged to the nearest town, still clad in his peasant’s dress, and cried, ‘Fine figs! fine figs! who’ll buy my beautiful ripe figs!’All the people ran out to see the new fruit-seller, and his figs looked so tempting that plenty of people bought of him. Among the foremost was the host of theinn, with his wife and his buxom daughter, and every one of them, as they ate the figs their noses began to grow and grow till everyone of them had a nose fully a yard long.Then there was a hue and cry through the whole town, everyone with his yard of nose dangling and waggling, came running out, calling, ‘Ho! Here! Wretch of a fruit-seller!’5But our fruit-seller had had the good sense to foresee the coming storm, and had taken care to get far out of the way of pursuit.But the next day he dressed himself like a doctor, all in black, with a long false beard, and came to the same town, where he entered the druggist’s6shop, and gave himself out for a great doctor.‘You come in good season!’ said the druggist. ‘A doctor is wanted here just now, if ever one was, for to everyone almost in the town is grown a nose7so big! so big! in fact, a full yard of nose! Anyone who could reduce these noses might make a fortune indeed!’‘Why, that’s just what I excel at of all things. Let me see some of these people,’ answered our pretended doctor.The druggist looked incredulous at a real remedy turning up so very opportunely; but at the same moment a pretty peasant girl came into the shop to buy some medicine for her mother; that is, she would have been pretty if it had not been for the terrible nose, which made a fright of her. The false doctor was seized with compunction when he saw what a fright his figs had made of this pretty girl, and he took out some figs of the other tree and gave her to eat, and immediately her tremendous nose grew less, and less, and less, and she was a pretty girl again. Of course it need not be said that he did not give her the figs in their natural state and form; he had peeled and pounded, and made them up with other things to disguise them.The druggist no sooner saw this wonderful cure than he was prompt to publish it, and there was quite a strife who should have the new doctor the first.It was the innkeeper who succeeded in being the first to possess himself of him. ‘What will you give me for the cure?’ said the strange doctor.‘Whatever you have the conscience to ask,’ replied the host, panting to be rid of the monstrosity.‘Four thousand scudi apiece,’ replied the false doctor; and the host, his wife, and his buxom daughter stood in a row waiting to be cured. With the same remedy that had cured the peasant girl he cured the host first, and next his daughter. After he had cured her he said, ‘Instead of the second premium of four thousand scudi, I will take the hand of your daughter, if you like?’‘Yes, if you wish; it’s a very good idea,’ replied the host.‘Never, while I live!’ said the wife.‘Why not? He’s a very good husband!’ said the host.‘An ugly old travelling doctor, who comes no one knows whence, to marry my daughter indeed!’ said the wife.‘I’m sure we’re under great obligations to his cleverness,’ said the husband.‘Then let him be paid his price, and go about his business, and not talk impudence!’ said the wife.‘But I choose that heshallmarry her!’ said the husband.‘AndIchoose that he shan’t,’ said the wife; ‘and you’ll find that much stronger.’Just then a customer came in, and the host had to go and attend upon him, and while he was gone the wife called the servants, and bade them turn the doctor out, and give him a good drubbing into the bargain, saying, ‘I’ll have some other doctor to cure me!’So he left them, and went on curing people’s noses all day, till he had made a lot of money. Then he went away, but limping all the time from the beating he had received. The next day he came back dressed like a Turk, so that no one would have known him for the same man, and he came back to the same inn, saying he, too, could cure noses.The mistress of the inn gave him a hearty welcome, as she was very anxious to find another doctor who could cure her nose.‘My treatment is effectual, but it is rude,’ said the pretended Turk. ‘I don’t know if you’ll like to submit to it.’‘Oh yes! Anything, whatever it may be, only to be rid of this monstrous nose,’ said the hostess.‘Then you must come into a room by yourself with me,’ said the pretended Turk; ‘and I have a stick here made out of the root of a particular tree. I must thump you on the back with it, and in proportion as I thump you the nose will draw in. Of course it will hurt very much, and make you cry out, so you must tell your servants and people outside that however much you may call they are not to come in. For if they should come in and interrupt the cure, it would all have to be begun over again, and all you had suffered would go for nothing.’So the hostess gave strict orders, saying, ‘I am going into this room with the Turk to be cured by him, and however much I may call out, or whatever I may say, mind none of you, on pain of losing your places, open the door, or come near the room.’Then she took the Turk into a room apart, and shut the door. The Turk no sooner got her alone than he made her lie with her face downwards on a sofa, and then—whack, whack, whack!8he gave her such a beating that she felt the effects of it to the end of her days.Of course it was in vain she screamed and roared for help; the servants had had their orders, and none of themdurst approach the room. It was only when she had fainted that the Turk left her alone and went his way.But she never got her nose cured, and he married the pretty peasant girl who was the subject of his first cure.[The two following stories contain a jumbling mixture of the incidents of the three preceding, set in a different framework; more or less mixed up with those in the stories of other countries mentioned at p. 128. Some of those in ‘The Transformation Donkey’ occur in the Siddhi Kür story of ‘The Gold-spitting Prince,’ in ‘Sagas from the Far East,’ but they are constructed into a quite different tale.]1‘Mezza canna di Naso,’half a cane of nose. A cane is the former Roman standard measure, and was exactly equal to two mètres.↑2‘Palmo,’ was the expression used; theCannawas divided into eight palms.↑3‘Calava, calava, calava.’↑4‘Adesso so’ a cavallo.’ ‘Now I am on the way to fortune.’↑5‘Quell’ fruttivendolo’; ‘quell’ uomo’! ‘quella donna!’a vulgar way of calling after people.↑6‘Spezziale,’ a druggist (‘droghiere’ is a grocer). It is the custom in Rome for the doctors of the poor to sit in the druggists’ shops, ready to be called for.↑7‘Nasone,’ a big nose.↑8‘Pīmperte; Pāmperte! Pūmperte!’↑THE CHICORY-SELLER AND THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS.1There was a chicory-seller, with a wife and a son, all of them dying of hunger, and sleeping on the floor because they couldn’t afford a bed. Once when they went out in the morning to gather chicory, the son found such a large plant of it, never was such a plant seen, it took them an hour, working at it together, to pull it up, and it filled two great bags. What is more, when they had got it all up, there was a great hole in the ground.‘What can there be down in that hole?’ said the son. ‘I must go and see!’ In he jumped,2and down he went.Suddenly he found himself in the midst of a splendid palace, and a number of obsequious servants gathered round him. They all bowed to the ground, and said,‘Your lordship! your lordship!’ and asked him what he ‘pleased to want.’So there he was, dressed like a clodhopper, and all these servants dressed like princes, bowing and scraping to him.‘What do I want?’ said the lad; ‘most of all, I want a dinner.’Immediately they brought him a banquet of a dinner, and waited on him all the time. Dinner over, they dressed him like a prince.By-and-by there came in an ugly old hag, as ugly as a witch, who said,‘Good morning, Prince; are you come to marry me?’‘I’m no prince; and I’m not come to marry you most certainly!’ replied the youth.But all the servants standing round made all sorts of gesticulations that he should say ‘yes.’‘It’s no use mouthing at me,’ said the lad; ‘I shall never say “yes” tothat!’But they went on making signs all round that he should say ‘yes,’ till at last they bewildered him so, that, almost without knowing what he did, he said ‘yes.’Directly he had said ‘yes,’ there were thunder and lightning, and thunderbolts, and meteors, and howling of wind, and storm of hail. The youth felt in great fear; but the servants said:‘It is all right. She you thought an old hag is indeed a beautiful princess of eighteen, but she was under a spell; by consenting to marry her you have ended that spell, if you can only stand through the fear of this stormfor three days and three nights, no harm can come to you, and we also shall all be set free.’The whole apartment now seemed on fire, and when that ceased for a time, it seemed to rain fire all around.For two days he managed to endure, but on the third day he got so frightened that he ran away. He had not much bettered his condition, however; for, if he had got away from the magic storms of the under world, he had come into real storms in the actual world, and there he was alone in the Campagna, starving and destitute again.At last an old man appeared, who said to him:‘Why were you so foolish as to run away? You were told no harm could happen to you. Now you have nearly lost all. There is, however, one remedy left. Go on to the top of that high mountain, and gather the grass that grows there, and bring back a large bundle of it, and give it to these people to eat, and that will finish what you have begun. You will marry the princess, and share her kingdom; and all her people will be set free. For all those who waited on you as servants are noblemen of her court, who are under a spell.’‘How am I to get up to the top of that high mountain?’ said the youth; ‘it would take me a life of weariness to arrive there!’‘Take this divining-rod,’ said the old man, ‘and whatever difficulty comes in your way, touch it with this wand, and it will disappear.’The youth took the wand, and bent his steps towards the mountain. There were rivers to be crossed, and steep places to be climbed, and many perils to be encountered, but the wand overcame them all. Arrived at the top, he saw a plat of fine, long grass growing, which he made no doubt was the grass he had to take. But he thought within himself, ‘If this wand can do so much, it can surely give me also a house and a dinner; and, then, why should I toil down this mountain again at all!’‘Rod! rod! give me a nice little house!’ he commanded;3and there was a nice little house on the top of the mountain.‘Rod! rod! give me a good dinner!’ and a good dinner was spread on the table.And thus it was with everything he wanted; so he went on living on the top of the mountain, without thinking of those he had to deliver in the hole under the earth.Suddenly, there stood the old man.4‘You were not sent here to amuse yourself,’ said he, severely. ‘You were sent to fetch the means of delivering others;’ and he took the wand away from him, and touched the casino, and it disappeared, and he was once more left destitute.‘If you would repair the past,’ said the old man, as he went away, ‘gather even now a bundle of grass and take it, and perhaps you will be in time yet; but you will have to toil alone, for you have forfeited the rod. And now, remember this counsel: whoever meets you by the way and asks to buy that grass, sell it to no man, or you are undone.’As there was nothing else to be done, the youth set to work and cut some grass, and then terrible was the way he had to walk to get down again. Storms of fire broke continually over him, and every moment it seemed as though he would be precipitated to the bottom.As he reached the plain a traveller met him.‘Oh, you have some of that grass,’ said he. ‘I was just going up the mountain to get some. If you will give it me, and save my journey, I will give you a prancing horse, all covered with gold trappings studded with precious stones.’But this time the youth began to pay more attention to the injunctions laid upon him, and he shook his head, and walked on.‘Give it me,’ continued the stranger, ‘and I will giveyou in return for it a casino of your own in the Campagna, where you may live all your life.’But the youth shook his head, and continued his way, without so much as answering him.‘Give it me,’ said the stranger the third time, ‘and I will give you gold enough to make you rich all your days.’But the youth stood out the third temptation as well as the other two, and then the stranger disappeared.Without further hindrance he arrived at the chicory-hole, let himself down, and gave the grass to all the people to eat, who were half dead with waiting so long for him; and as they ate, the spell ceased. Only as he had cut the grass in an indolent sort of way, he had not brought so large a quantity as he ought, and there was one poor maiden left for whose deliverance the provision sufficed not.Meantime the whole face of the country was changed. The plain was covered with flourishing cities; over the chicory-hole was a splendid palace, where the maiden, who had under the spell looked like an old hag, took up her abode, and where the old man had promised that he should live with her for his reward.This reward he now came to claim.‘But you have not completed your task,’ said the princess.‘I think I have done a pretty good deal,’ answered the youth.‘But there is that one who is yet undelivered.’‘Oh, I can’t help aboutone. She must manage the best way she can.’‘That won’t do,’ said the princess. ‘If you want to have me, you must complete your work.’So he had to toil all the way up to the top of the mountain, and all the way down again, and at last the work was complete.Then the princess married him, and all went wondrously well.51‘Il Cicoriaro e la Principessa fatata.’↑2‘Fa una zompa;’ ‘zompa’ for ‘zomba,’ properly a blow, a thump; here, ‘jumped down with a noise like a thump.’↑3Bacchettone di comando, suits this use of it better than does the English equivalent.↑4‘Ecco il vecchio!’ such abrupt interruptions, with change of tense, are often introduced with dramatic effect by the narrators. A similar one occurs at p. 133. ‘He sounds the horn and One comes.’↑5‘E tutto andava benone;’ ‘bene,’ well; ‘benone,’ superlatively well.↑THE TRANSFORMATION-DONKEY.1There was once a poor chicory-seller: all chicory-sellers are poor, but this was a very poor one, and he had a large family of daughters and two sons. The daughters he left at home with their mother, but the two sons he took with him to gather chicory. While they were out gathering chicory one day, a great bird flew down before them and dropped an egg and then flew away again. The boys picked up the egg and brought it to their father, because there were some figures like strange writing on it which they could not read; but neither could the father read the strange writing, so he took the egg to a farmer.2The farmer read the writing, and it said:—‘Whoso eats my head, he shall be an emperor.’‘Whoso eats my heart, he shall never want for money.’‘Ho, ho!’ said the farmer to himself, ‘it won’t do to tell the fellow this; I must manage to eat both the head and the heart myself.’ So he said, ‘The meaning of it is that whoever eats the bird will make a very good dinner; so to-morrow when the bird comes back, as she doubtless will to lay another egg, have a good stick ready and knock her down; then you can make a fire, and bake it between the stones, and I will come and eat it with you if you like.’The poor chicory-seller thought his fortune was made when a farmer offered to dine with him, and the hours seemed long enough till next morning came.With next morning, however, came the bird again. The chicory-seller was ready with his stick and knocked her down, and the boys made a fire and cooked the bird. But as they were not very apt at the trussing and cooking, the head dropped into the fire, and the youngest boy said: ‘This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;’ so he ate it. The heart also fell into the fire and got burnt, and the eldest boy said: ‘This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;’ so he ate that.By-and-by the farmer came, and they all sat down on a bank—the farmer quite jovial at the idea of the immense advantage he was going to gain, and the chicory-seller quite elated at the idea of entertaining a farmer.‘Bring forward the roast, boys,’ said the father; and the boys brought the bird.‘What have you done with the head?’ exclaimed the farmer, the moment he saw the bird.‘Oh, it got burnt, and I ate it,’ said the younger boy.The merchant ground his teeth and stamped his foot, but he dared not say why he was so angry; so he sat silent while the chicory-seller took out his knife3and cut the bird up in portions.‘Give me the piece with the heart, if I may choose,’ said the merchant; ‘I’m very fond of birds’ hearts.’‘Certainly, any part you like,’ replied the chicory-seller, nervously turning all the pieces over and over again; ‘but I can’t find any heart. Boys, had the bird no heart?’‘Yes, papa,’ answered the elder brother, ‘it had a heart, sure enough; but it tumbled into the fire and got burnt, and so I ate it.’There was no object in disguising his fury any longer, so the farmer exclaimed testily, ‘Thank you, I’ll nothave any then; the head and the heart are just the only parts of a bird I care to eat.’ And so saying he turned on his heel and went away.‘Look, boys, what you’ve done! You’ve thrown away the best chance we ever had in our lives!’ cried the father in despair.4‘After the farmer had taken dinner with us he must have asked us to dine with him, and, as one civility always brings another, there is no saying what it might not have led to. However, as you have chosen to throw the chance away, you may go and look out for yourselves. I’ve done with you.’ And with a sound cudgelling5he drove them away.The two boys, left to themselves, wandered on till they came to a stable, when they entered the yard and asked to be allowed to do some work or other as a means of subsistence.‘I’ve nothing for you to do,’ said the landlord; ‘but, as it’s late, you may sleep on the straw there, on the condition that you go about your business to-morrow first thing.’The boys, glad to get a night’s lodging on any condition, went to sleep in the straw. When the elder brother woke in the morning he found a box of sequins6under his head.‘How could this have come here,’ soliloquised the boy, ‘unless the host had put it there to see if we were honest? Well, thank God, if we’re poor there’s no danger of either of us taking what doesn’t belong to us.’ So he took the box to the host, and said: ‘There’s your box of sequins quite safe. You needn’t have taken the trouble to test our honesty in that way.’The host was very much surprised, but he thought the best way was to take the money and say nothing but ‘I’m glad to see you’re such good boys.’ So he gave them breakfast and some provisions for the way.Next night they found themselves still in the opencountry and no inn near, and they were obliged to be content to sleep on the bare ground. Next morning when they woke the younger boy again found a box of sequins under his head.‘Only think of that host not being satisfied with trying us once, but to come all this way after us to test our honesty again. However, I suppose we must take it back to him.’So they walked all the way back to the host and said: ‘Here’s your box of sequins back; as we didn’t steal it the first time it was not likely we should take it the second time.’The host was more and more astonished; but he took the money without saying anything, only he praised the boys for being so good and gave them a hearty meal. And they went their way, taking a new direction.The next night the younger brother said: ‘Do you know I’ve my doubts about the host having put that box of sequins under your head. How could he have done it out in the open country without our seeing him? To-night I will watch, and if he doesn’t come, and in the morning there is another box of sequins, it will be a sign that it is your own.’He did so, and next morning there was another box of sequins. So they decided it was honestly their own, and they carried it by turns and journeyed on. About noon they came to a great city where the emperor was lately dead, and all the people were in great excitement about choosing another emperor. The population was all divided in factions, each of which had a candidate, and none would let the candidate of the others reign. There was so much fighting and quarrelling in the streets that the brothers got separated, and saw each other no more.At this time it happened that it was the turn of the younger brother to be carrying the box of sequins. When the sentinels at the gate saw a stranger coming in carryinga box they said, ‘We must see what this is,’ and they took him to the minister. When the minister saw his box was full of sequins he said, ‘This must be our emperor.’ And all the people said, ‘Yes, this is our emperor. Long live our emperor!’ And thus the boy became an emperor.But the elder brother had entered unperceived into the town, and went to ask hospitality in a house where was a woman with a beautiful daughter; so they let him stay. That night also there came a box of sequins under his head; so he went out and bought meat and fuel and all manner of provisions, and gave them to the mother, and said, ‘Because you took me in when I was poor last night, I have brought you all these provisions out of gratitude,’ and for the beautiful daughter he bought silks and damasks, and ornaments of gold. But the daughter said, ‘How comes it, tell me, that you, who were a poor footsore wayfarer last night, have now such boundless riches at command?’ And because she was beautiful and spoke kindly to him, he suspected no evil, but told her, saying, ‘Every morning when I wake now, I find a box of sequins under my head.’‘And how comes it,’ said she, ‘that you find a box of sequins under your head now, and not formerly?’ ‘I do not know,’ he answered,‘unless it be because one day when I was out with father gathering chicory, a great bird came and dropt an egg with some strange writing on it, which we could not read. But a farmer read it for us; only he would not tell us what it said, but that we should cook the bird and eat it. While we were cooking it the heart fell into the fire and got burnt, and I ate it: and when the farmer heard this he grew very angry. I think, therefore, the writing on the egg said that he who ate the heart of the bird should have many sequins.’After this they spent the day pleasantly together; but the daughter put an emetic in his wine at supper, and so made him bring up the bird’s heart, which she kept forherself, and the next morning when he woke there was no box of sequins under his head. When he rose in the morning also the beautiful girl and her mother turned him out of the house, and he wandered forth again.At last, being weary and full of sorrow, he sat down on the ground by the side of a stream crying. Immediately three fairies appeared to him and asked him why he wept. And when he told them, they said to him: ‘Weep no more, for instead of the bird’s heart we give you this sheepskin jacket, the pockets of which will always be full of sequins. How many soever you may take out they will always remain full.’ Then they disappeared; but he immediately went back to the house of the beautiful girl, taking her rich and fine presents; but she said to him, ‘How comes it that you, who had no money left when you went away, have now the means to buy all these fine presents?’ Then he told her of the gift of the three fairies, and they let him sleep in the house again, but the daughter called her maid to her and said: ‘Make a sheepskin jacket exactly like that in the stranger’s room.’ So she made one, and they put it in his room, and took away the one the fairies had given him, and in the morning they drove him from the house again. Then he went and sat down by the stream and wept again; but the fairies came and asked him why he wept; and he told them, saying, ‘Because they have driven me away from the house where I stayed, and I have no home to go to, and this jacket has no more sequins in the pockets.’ Then the fairies looked at the jacket, and they said, ‘This is not the jacket we gave you; it has been changed by fraud:’ so they gave him in place of it a wand, and they said, ‘With this wand strike the table, and whatever you may desire, be it meat or drink or clothes, or whatsoever you may want, it shall come upon the table.’ The next day he went back to the house of the woman and her daughter, and sat down without saying anything, but he struck the table with his wand,wishing for a great banquet, and immediately it was covered with the choicest dishes. There was no need to ask him questions this time, for they saw in what his gift consisted, and in the night, when he was asleep, they took his wand away. In the morning they drove him forth out of the house, and he went back to the stream and sat down to cry. Again the fairies appeared to him and comforted him; but they said, ‘This is the last time we may appear to you. Here is a ring; keep it on your hand; for if you lose this gift there is nothing more we may do for you;’ and they went away. But he immediately returned to the house of the woman and her beautiful daughter. They let him in, ‘Because,’ they said, ‘doubtless the fairies have given him some other gift of which we may take profit.’ And as he sat there he said, ‘All the other gifts of the fairies have I lost, but this one they have given me now I cannot lose, because it is a ring which fits my finger, and no one can take it from my hand.’‘And of what use is your ring?’ asked the beautiful daughter.‘Its use is that whatever I wish for while I have it on I obtain directly, whatever it may be.’‘Then wish,’ said she, ‘that we may be both together on the top of that high mountain, and a sumptuousmerenda7spread out for us.’‘To be sure!’ he replied, and he repeated her wish. Instantly they found themselves on the top of the high mountain with a plentifulmerendabefore them; but she had a vial of opium with her, and while his head was turned away she poured the opium into his wine. Presently after this he fell into a sound sleep, so sound that there was no fear of waking him. Immediately she took the ring from his finger and put it on her own; then she wished that she might be replaced at home and that he might be left on the top of the mountain. And so it was done.In the morning when he woke and found himself all alone on the top of the high mountain and his ring gone, he wept bitter tears, and felt too weary to attempt the descent of the steep mountain side. For three days he remained here weary and weeping, and then, becoming faint from hunger, he took some of the herbs that grew on the mountain top for food. As soon as he had eaten these he was turned into a donkey,8but as he retained his human intelligence, he said to himself, this herb has its uses, and he filled one of the panniers on his back with it. Then he came down from the mountain, and when he was at the foot of it, being hungry with the long journey, he ate of the grass that grew there, and, behold! he was transformed back into his natural shape; so he filled the other basket with this kind of grass and went his way.Having dressed himself like a street seller, he took the basket of the herb which had the property of changing the eater into a donkey, and stood under the window of the house where he had been so evil entreated, and cried, ‘Fine salad! fine salad! who will buy my fine salad?’9‘What is there so specially good about your salad?’ asked the maid, looking out. ‘My young mistress is particularly fond of salad, so if yours is so very superfine, you had better come up.’He did not wait to be twice told. As soon as he saw the beautiful daughter, he said, ‘This is fine salad, indeed, the finest of the fine, all fresh gathered, and the first of its kind that ever was sold.’‘Very likely it’s the first of its kind that ever was sold,’ said she; ‘but I don’t like to buy things I haven’t tried; it may turn out not to be nice.’‘Oh, try it, try it freely; don’t buy without trying;’ and he picked one of the freshest and crispest bunches.She took one in her hand and bit a few blades, and no sooner had she done so than she too became a donkey. Then he put the panniers on her back and drove her allover the town, constantly cudgelling her till she sank under the blows. Then one who saw him belabour her thus, said, ‘This must not be; you must come and answer before the emperor for thus belabouring the poor brute;’ but he refused to go unless he took the donkey with him; so they went to the emperor and said, ‘Here is one who is belabouring his donkey till she has sunk under his blows, and he refuses to come before the emperor to answer his cruelty unless he bring his donkey with him.’ And the emperor made answer, ‘Let him bring the beast with him.’So they brought him and his donkey before the emperor. When he found himself before the emperor he said, ‘All these must go away; to the emperor alone can I tell why I belabour my donkey.’ So the emperor commanded all the people to go to a distance while he took him and his donkey apart. As soon as he found himself alone with the emperor he said, ‘See, it is I, thy brother!’ and he embraced him. Then he told him all that had befallen him since they parted. Then said the emperor to the donkey, ‘Go now with him home, and show him where thou hast laid all the things—the bird’s heart, the sheepskin jacket, the wand, and the ring, that he may bring them hither; and if thou deliver them up faithfully I will command that he give thee of that grass to eat which shall give thee back thy natural form.’So they went back to the house and fetched all the things, and the emperor said, ‘Come thou now and live with me, and give me of thy sequins, and I will share the empire with thee.’ Thus they reigned together.But to the donkey they gave of the grass to eat, which restored her natural form, only that her beauty was marred by the cudgelling she had received. And she said, ‘Had I not been so wilful and malicious I had now been empress.’[In these stories we have had the actions of threeFate, somewhat resembling English fairies; in the following, we meet with three who, as often happens in Roman stories, are nothing better than witches.]1‘La Somara.’↑2The ‘mercante di Campagna’ occupies the place of farmer in thesocial system of Rome; that is, he produces and deals in grain and cattle; there is ‘buttaro’ (cattle breeder) besides; but the characteristics of each are so different that the one does not well translate the other.↑3‘Cortello’ for ‘coltello’ (a knife). The substitution ofrforlin a good many words is a common Romanism.↑4‘Dishperato’ for ‘disperato’ (‘out of himself with vexation’), is another Romanism; as also↑5‘Bashtonata’ for ‘bastonata’ (a cudgelling); at least many Romans, particularly old-fashioned people, when using some words in whichspandstoccur, put in anhon occasions requiring great vehemence of expression.↑6Zecchini. Thezecchinowas the gold standard coin in Rome before that of thescudowas adopted. Its value was fixed in the reign of Clement XIII., 1758, at two scudi and twenty bajocchi—something between 10s.and 11s.; it was current till a few years back; and ‘zecchini’ is a common way of saying ‘money’ when a large sum is spoken of, just as we still talk of guineas.↑7‘Merenda’ is a supplementary meal taken at any time of day. It is not exactly lunch, because the habit of taking lunch at one and dining late has not yet obtained to any great extent in Rome; and where it has, lunch is called ‘déjeûner’; breakfast (i.e. a cup of coffee and a roll early in the morning) is always called ‘colazione.’ The established custom of Rome is dinner (‘pranzo,’ or ‘desinare,’) at twelve, and supper (‘cena’) an hour or two after the Ave, varying, therefore, according to the time of year, from six or seven till nine or ten, and even later. ‘Merenda’ is a light meal between ‘pranzo’ and ‘cena’ of not altogether general use, and chiefly on occasions of driving outside the gates to spend the afternoon at a country villa or casino.↑8‘Soma’ is a burden; ‘somaro’ or ‘somura’ an ass used for carrying burdens. Thus in the next line it is spoken of as having panniers on as a matter of course.↑9‘Che bell’ insalatina; chi vuol insalatina; che bell’ insalatina!’ a common form of crying. ‘Che belle mela!’ ‘What fine apples!’ ‘Che belle persiche!’ or ‘What fine peaches!’ may be heard all the year round.↑

A YARD OF NOSE.1There was once a poor orphan youth left all alone, with no home, and no means of gaining a living, and no place of shelter.Not knowing what to do he wandered away over the Campagna, straight on; when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness, he at last saw a fig-tree covered with ripe figs.‘There’s a godsend!’ said the poor orphan; and he set to upon the figs without ceremony. But, lo! he had scarcely eaten half-a-dozen when his nose began to feel very odd; he put his hand up to it and it felt much bigger than usual; however, he was too hungry to trouble himself about it, and he ate on. As he ate on his nose felt queerer and queerer; he put his hand up and found it was quite a foot2long! But he was so hungry he went on eating still, and before he had done he had fully a yard of nose.‘A pretty thing I have done for myself now! As well might I have died of starvation as make myselfsuch an object as this! Never can I appear among civilised beings again.’ And he laid himself down to sleep, hiding himself in the foliage of the fig-tree lest anybody passing by should see his nose.In the morning the first thing he thought of when he awoke was his nose; he had no need to put up his hand to feel it for it reached down to his hand, a full yard of it waggling about.‘There’s no help for it,’ he said. ‘I must keep away from all habitable places, and live as best I may.’So he wandered on and on over the Campagna away from all habitations, straight on; and when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness he saw another fig-tree covered with ripe figs.Right glad he was to see anything in the shape of food. ‘If it had only been anything else in the world but figs!’ he said. ‘If I go on at this rate I shan’t be able to carry my nose along at all! Yet starving is hard, too, and I’m such a figure now, nothing can make me much worse, so here goes!’ and he began eating at the figs without more ado.As he ate this time, however, his nose, instead of feeling queerer and queerer as it had before, began to feel lighter and lighter.Less, less, and still less it grew,3till at last he had to put his hand up to feel where it was, and by the time he had done eating, it was just its natural size again.‘NowI know how to make my fortune!’4he cried, and he danced for delight.With a basketful of the figs of the first tree he trudged to the nearest town, still clad in his peasant’s dress, and cried, ‘Fine figs! fine figs! who’ll buy my beautiful ripe figs!’All the people ran out to see the new fruit-seller, and his figs looked so tempting that plenty of people bought of him. Among the foremost was the host of theinn, with his wife and his buxom daughter, and every one of them, as they ate the figs their noses began to grow and grow till everyone of them had a nose fully a yard long.Then there was a hue and cry through the whole town, everyone with his yard of nose dangling and waggling, came running out, calling, ‘Ho! Here! Wretch of a fruit-seller!’5But our fruit-seller had had the good sense to foresee the coming storm, and had taken care to get far out of the way of pursuit.But the next day he dressed himself like a doctor, all in black, with a long false beard, and came to the same town, where he entered the druggist’s6shop, and gave himself out for a great doctor.‘You come in good season!’ said the druggist. ‘A doctor is wanted here just now, if ever one was, for to everyone almost in the town is grown a nose7so big! so big! in fact, a full yard of nose! Anyone who could reduce these noses might make a fortune indeed!’‘Why, that’s just what I excel at of all things. Let me see some of these people,’ answered our pretended doctor.The druggist looked incredulous at a real remedy turning up so very opportunely; but at the same moment a pretty peasant girl came into the shop to buy some medicine for her mother; that is, she would have been pretty if it had not been for the terrible nose, which made a fright of her. The false doctor was seized with compunction when he saw what a fright his figs had made of this pretty girl, and he took out some figs of the other tree and gave her to eat, and immediately her tremendous nose grew less, and less, and less, and she was a pretty girl again. Of course it need not be said that he did not give her the figs in their natural state and form; he had peeled and pounded, and made them up with other things to disguise them.The druggist no sooner saw this wonderful cure than he was prompt to publish it, and there was quite a strife who should have the new doctor the first.It was the innkeeper who succeeded in being the first to possess himself of him. ‘What will you give me for the cure?’ said the strange doctor.‘Whatever you have the conscience to ask,’ replied the host, panting to be rid of the monstrosity.‘Four thousand scudi apiece,’ replied the false doctor; and the host, his wife, and his buxom daughter stood in a row waiting to be cured. With the same remedy that had cured the peasant girl he cured the host first, and next his daughter. After he had cured her he said, ‘Instead of the second premium of four thousand scudi, I will take the hand of your daughter, if you like?’‘Yes, if you wish; it’s a very good idea,’ replied the host.‘Never, while I live!’ said the wife.‘Why not? He’s a very good husband!’ said the host.‘An ugly old travelling doctor, who comes no one knows whence, to marry my daughter indeed!’ said the wife.‘I’m sure we’re under great obligations to his cleverness,’ said the husband.‘Then let him be paid his price, and go about his business, and not talk impudence!’ said the wife.‘But I choose that heshallmarry her!’ said the husband.‘AndIchoose that he shan’t,’ said the wife; ‘and you’ll find that much stronger.’Just then a customer came in, and the host had to go and attend upon him, and while he was gone the wife called the servants, and bade them turn the doctor out, and give him a good drubbing into the bargain, saying, ‘I’ll have some other doctor to cure me!’So he left them, and went on curing people’s noses all day, till he had made a lot of money. Then he went away, but limping all the time from the beating he had received. The next day he came back dressed like a Turk, so that no one would have known him for the same man, and he came back to the same inn, saying he, too, could cure noses.The mistress of the inn gave him a hearty welcome, as she was very anxious to find another doctor who could cure her nose.‘My treatment is effectual, but it is rude,’ said the pretended Turk. ‘I don’t know if you’ll like to submit to it.’‘Oh yes! Anything, whatever it may be, only to be rid of this monstrous nose,’ said the hostess.‘Then you must come into a room by yourself with me,’ said the pretended Turk; ‘and I have a stick here made out of the root of a particular tree. I must thump you on the back with it, and in proportion as I thump you the nose will draw in. Of course it will hurt very much, and make you cry out, so you must tell your servants and people outside that however much you may call they are not to come in. For if they should come in and interrupt the cure, it would all have to be begun over again, and all you had suffered would go for nothing.’So the hostess gave strict orders, saying, ‘I am going into this room with the Turk to be cured by him, and however much I may call out, or whatever I may say, mind none of you, on pain of losing your places, open the door, or come near the room.’Then she took the Turk into a room apart, and shut the door. The Turk no sooner got her alone than he made her lie with her face downwards on a sofa, and then—whack, whack, whack!8he gave her such a beating that she felt the effects of it to the end of her days.Of course it was in vain she screamed and roared for help; the servants had had their orders, and none of themdurst approach the room. It was only when she had fainted that the Turk left her alone and went his way.But she never got her nose cured, and he married the pretty peasant girl who was the subject of his first cure.[The two following stories contain a jumbling mixture of the incidents of the three preceding, set in a different framework; more or less mixed up with those in the stories of other countries mentioned at p. 128. Some of those in ‘The Transformation Donkey’ occur in the Siddhi Kür story of ‘The Gold-spitting Prince,’ in ‘Sagas from the Far East,’ but they are constructed into a quite different tale.]1‘Mezza canna di Naso,’half a cane of nose. A cane is the former Roman standard measure, and was exactly equal to two mètres.↑2‘Palmo,’ was the expression used; theCannawas divided into eight palms.↑3‘Calava, calava, calava.’↑4‘Adesso so’ a cavallo.’ ‘Now I am on the way to fortune.’↑5‘Quell’ fruttivendolo’; ‘quell’ uomo’! ‘quella donna!’a vulgar way of calling after people.↑6‘Spezziale,’ a druggist (‘droghiere’ is a grocer). It is the custom in Rome for the doctors of the poor to sit in the druggists’ shops, ready to be called for.↑7‘Nasone,’ a big nose.↑8‘Pīmperte; Pāmperte! Pūmperte!’↑

A YARD OF NOSE.1

There was once a poor orphan youth left all alone, with no home, and no means of gaining a living, and no place of shelter.Not knowing what to do he wandered away over the Campagna, straight on; when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness, he at last saw a fig-tree covered with ripe figs.‘There’s a godsend!’ said the poor orphan; and he set to upon the figs without ceremony. But, lo! he had scarcely eaten half-a-dozen when his nose began to feel very odd; he put his hand up to it and it felt much bigger than usual; however, he was too hungry to trouble himself about it, and he ate on. As he ate on his nose felt queerer and queerer; he put his hand up and found it was quite a foot2long! But he was so hungry he went on eating still, and before he had done he had fully a yard of nose.‘A pretty thing I have done for myself now! As well might I have died of starvation as make myselfsuch an object as this! Never can I appear among civilised beings again.’ And he laid himself down to sleep, hiding himself in the foliage of the fig-tree lest anybody passing by should see his nose.In the morning the first thing he thought of when he awoke was his nose; he had no need to put up his hand to feel it for it reached down to his hand, a full yard of it waggling about.‘There’s no help for it,’ he said. ‘I must keep away from all habitable places, and live as best I may.’So he wandered on and on over the Campagna away from all habitations, straight on; and when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness he saw another fig-tree covered with ripe figs.Right glad he was to see anything in the shape of food. ‘If it had only been anything else in the world but figs!’ he said. ‘If I go on at this rate I shan’t be able to carry my nose along at all! Yet starving is hard, too, and I’m such a figure now, nothing can make me much worse, so here goes!’ and he began eating at the figs without more ado.As he ate this time, however, his nose, instead of feeling queerer and queerer as it had before, began to feel lighter and lighter.Less, less, and still less it grew,3till at last he had to put his hand up to feel where it was, and by the time he had done eating, it was just its natural size again.‘NowI know how to make my fortune!’4he cried, and he danced for delight.With a basketful of the figs of the first tree he trudged to the nearest town, still clad in his peasant’s dress, and cried, ‘Fine figs! fine figs! who’ll buy my beautiful ripe figs!’All the people ran out to see the new fruit-seller, and his figs looked so tempting that plenty of people bought of him. Among the foremost was the host of theinn, with his wife and his buxom daughter, and every one of them, as they ate the figs their noses began to grow and grow till everyone of them had a nose fully a yard long.Then there was a hue and cry through the whole town, everyone with his yard of nose dangling and waggling, came running out, calling, ‘Ho! Here! Wretch of a fruit-seller!’5But our fruit-seller had had the good sense to foresee the coming storm, and had taken care to get far out of the way of pursuit.But the next day he dressed himself like a doctor, all in black, with a long false beard, and came to the same town, where he entered the druggist’s6shop, and gave himself out for a great doctor.‘You come in good season!’ said the druggist. ‘A doctor is wanted here just now, if ever one was, for to everyone almost in the town is grown a nose7so big! so big! in fact, a full yard of nose! Anyone who could reduce these noses might make a fortune indeed!’‘Why, that’s just what I excel at of all things. Let me see some of these people,’ answered our pretended doctor.The druggist looked incredulous at a real remedy turning up so very opportunely; but at the same moment a pretty peasant girl came into the shop to buy some medicine for her mother; that is, she would have been pretty if it had not been for the terrible nose, which made a fright of her. The false doctor was seized with compunction when he saw what a fright his figs had made of this pretty girl, and he took out some figs of the other tree and gave her to eat, and immediately her tremendous nose grew less, and less, and less, and she was a pretty girl again. Of course it need not be said that he did not give her the figs in their natural state and form; he had peeled and pounded, and made them up with other things to disguise them.The druggist no sooner saw this wonderful cure than he was prompt to publish it, and there was quite a strife who should have the new doctor the first.It was the innkeeper who succeeded in being the first to possess himself of him. ‘What will you give me for the cure?’ said the strange doctor.‘Whatever you have the conscience to ask,’ replied the host, panting to be rid of the monstrosity.‘Four thousand scudi apiece,’ replied the false doctor; and the host, his wife, and his buxom daughter stood in a row waiting to be cured. With the same remedy that had cured the peasant girl he cured the host first, and next his daughter. After he had cured her he said, ‘Instead of the second premium of four thousand scudi, I will take the hand of your daughter, if you like?’‘Yes, if you wish; it’s a very good idea,’ replied the host.‘Never, while I live!’ said the wife.‘Why not? He’s a very good husband!’ said the host.‘An ugly old travelling doctor, who comes no one knows whence, to marry my daughter indeed!’ said the wife.‘I’m sure we’re under great obligations to his cleverness,’ said the husband.‘Then let him be paid his price, and go about his business, and not talk impudence!’ said the wife.‘But I choose that heshallmarry her!’ said the husband.‘AndIchoose that he shan’t,’ said the wife; ‘and you’ll find that much stronger.’Just then a customer came in, and the host had to go and attend upon him, and while he was gone the wife called the servants, and bade them turn the doctor out, and give him a good drubbing into the bargain, saying, ‘I’ll have some other doctor to cure me!’So he left them, and went on curing people’s noses all day, till he had made a lot of money. Then he went away, but limping all the time from the beating he had received. The next day he came back dressed like a Turk, so that no one would have known him for the same man, and he came back to the same inn, saying he, too, could cure noses.The mistress of the inn gave him a hearty welcome, as she was very anxious to find another doctor who could cure her nose.‘My treatment is effectual, but it is rude,’ said the pretended Turk. ‘I don’t know if you’ll like to submit to it.’‘Oh yes! Anything, whatever it may be, only to be rid of this monstrous nose,’ said the hostess.‘Then you must come into a room by yourself with me,’ said the pretended Turk; ‘and I have a stick here made out of the root of a particular tree. I must thump you on the back with it, and in proportion as I thump you the nose will draw in. Of course it will hurt very much, and make you cry out, so you must tell your servants and people outside that however much you may call they are not to come in. For if they should come in and interrupt the cure, it would all have to be begun over again, and all you had suffered would go for nothing.’So the hostess gave strict orders, saying, ‘I am going into this room with the Turk to be cured by him, and however much I may call out, or whatever I may say, mind none of you, on pain of losing your places, open the door, or come near the room.’Then she took the Turk into a room apart, and shut the door. The Turk no sooner got her alone than he made her lie with her face downwards on a sofa, and then—whack, whack, whack!8he gave her such a beating that she felt the effects of it to the end of her days.Of course it was in vain she screamed and roared for help; the servants had had their orders, and none of themdurst approach the room. It was only when she had fainted that the Turk left her alone and went his way.But she never got her nose cured, and he married the pretty peasant girl who was the subject of his first cure.[The two following stories contain a jumbling mixture of the incidents of the three preceding, set in a different framework; more or less mixed up with those in the stories of other countries mentioned at p. 128. Some of those in ‘The Transformation Donkey’ occur in the Siddhi Kür story of ‘The Gold-spitting Prince,’ in ‘Sagas from the Far East,’ but they are constructed into a quite different tale.]

There was once a poor orphan youth left all alone, with no home, and no means of gaining a living, and no place of shelter.

Not knowing what to do he wandered away over the Campagna, straight on; when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness, he at last saw a fig-tree covered with ripe figs.

‘There’s a godsend!’ said the poor orphan; and he set to upon the figs without ceremony. But, lo! he had scarcely eaten half-a-dozen when his nose began to feel very odd; he put his hand up to it and it felt much bigger than usual; however, he was too hungry to trouble himself about it, and he ate on. As he ate on his nose felt queerer and queerer; he put his hand up and found it was quite a foot2long! But he was so hungry he went on eating still, and before he had done he had fully a yard of nose.

‘A pretty thing I have done for myself now! As well might I have died of starvation as make myselfsuch an object as this! Never can I appear among civilised beings again.’ And he laid himself down to sleep, hiding himself in the foliage of the fig-tree lest anybody passing by should see his nose.

In the morning the first thing he thought of when he awoke was his nose; he had no need to put up his hand to feel it for it reached down to his hand, a full yard of it waggling about.

‘There’s no help for it,’ he said. ‘I must keep away from all habitable places, and live as best I may.’

So he wandered on and on over the Campagna away from all habitations, straight on; and when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness he saw another fig-tree covered with ripe figs.

Right glad he was to see anything in the shape of food. ‘If it had only been anything else in the world but figs!’ he said. ‘If I go on at this rate I shan’t be able to carry my nose along at all! Yet starving is hard, too, and I’m such a figure now, nothing can make me much worse, so here goes!’ and he began eating at the figs without more ado.

As he ate this time, however, his nose, instead of feeling queerer and queerer as it had before, began to feel lighter and lighter.

Less, less, and still less it grew,3till at last he had to put his hand up to feel where it was, and by the time he had done eating, it was just its natural size again.

‘NowI know how to make my fortune!’4he cried, and he danced for delight.

With a basketful of the figs of the first tree he trudged to the nearest town, still clad in his peasant’s dress, and cried, ‘Fine figs! fine figs! who’ll buy my beautiful ripe figs!’

All the people ran out to see the new fruit-seller, and his figs looked so tempting that plenty of people bought of him. Among the foremost was the host of theinn, with his wife and his buxom daughter, and every one of them, as they ate the figs their noses began to grow and grow till everyone of them had a nose fully a yard long.

Then there was a hue and cry through the whole town, everyone with his yard of nose dangling and waggling, came running out, calling, ‘Ho! Here! Wretch of a fruit-seller!’5

But our fruit-seller had had the good sense to foresee the coming storm, and had taken care to get far out of the way of pursuit.

But the next day he dressed himself like a doctor, all in black, with a long false beard, and came to the same town, where he entered the druggist’s6shop, and gave himself out for a great doctor.

‘You come in good season!’ said the druggist. ‘A doctor is wanted here just now, if ever one was, for to everyone almost in the town is grown a nose7so big! so big! in fact, a full yard of nose! Anyone who could reduce these noses might make a fortune indeed!’

‘Why, that’s just what I excel at of all things. Let me see some of these people,’ answered our pretended doctor.

The druggist looked incredulous at a real remedy turning up so very opportunely; but at the same moment a pretty peasant girl came into the shop to buy some medicine for her mother; that is, she would have been pretty if it had not been for the terrible nose, which made a fright of her. The false doctor was seized with compunction when he saw what a fright his figs had made of this pretty girl, and he took out some figs of the other tree and gave her to eat, and immediately her tremendous nose grew less, and less, and less, and she was a pretty girl again. Of course it need not be said that he did not give her the figs in their natural state and form; he had peeled and pounded, and made them up with other things to disguise them.

The druggist no sooner saw this wonderful cure than he was prompt to publish it, and there was quite a strife who should have the new doctor the first.

It was the innkeeper who succeeded in being the first to possess himself of him. ‘What will you give me for the cure?’ said the strange doctor.

‘Whatever you have the conscience to ask,’ replied the host, panting to be rid of the monstrosity.

‘Four thousand scudi apiece,’ replied the false doctor; and the host, his wife, and his buxom daughter stood in a row waiting to be cured. With the same remedy that had cured the peasant girl he cured the host first, and next his daughter. After he had cured her he said, ‘Instead of the second premium of four thousand scudi, I will take the hand of your daughter, if you like?’

‘Yes, if you wish; it’s a very good idea,’ replied the host.

‘Never, while I live!’ said the wife.

‘Why not? He’s a very good husband!’ said the host.

‘An ugly old travelling doctor, who comes no one knows whence, to marry my daughter indeed!’ said the wife.

‘I’m sure we’re under great obligations to his cleverness,’ said the husband.

‘Then let him be paid his price, and go about his business, and not talk impudence!’ said the wife.

‘But I choose that heshallmarry her!’ said the husband.

‘AndIchoose that he shan’t,’ said the wife; ‘and you’ll find that much stronger.’

Just then a customer came in, and the host had to go and attend upon him, and while he was gone the wife called the servants, and bade them turn the doctor out, and give him a good drubbing into the bargain, saying, ‘I’ll have some other doctor to cure me!’

So he left them, and went on curing people’s noses all day, till he had made a lot of money. Then he went away, but limping all the time from the beating he had received. The next day he came back dressed like a Turk, so that no one would have known him for the same man, and he came back to the same inn, saying he, too, could cure noses.

The mistress of the inn gave him a hearty welcome, as she was very anxious to find another doctor who could cure her nose.

‘My treatment is effectual, but it is rude,’ said the pretended Turk. ‘I don’t know if you’ll like to submit to it.’

‘Oh yes! Anything, whatever it may be, only to be rid of this monstrous nose,’ said the hostess.

‘Then you must come into a room by yourself with me,’ said the pretended Turk; ‘and I have a stick here made out of the root of a particular tree. I must thump you on the back with it, and in proportion as I thump you the nose will draw in. Of course it will hurt very much, and make you cry out, so you must tell your servants and people outside that however much you may call they are not to come in. For if they should come in and interrupt the cure, it would all have to be begun over again, and all you had suffered would go for nothing.’

So the hostess gave strict orders, saying, ‘I am going into this room with the Turk to be cured by him, and however much I may call out, or whatever I may say, mind none of you, on pain of losing your places, open the door, or come near the room.’

Then she took the Turk into a room apart, and shut the door. The Turk no sooner got her alone than he made her lie with her face downwards on a sofa, and then—whack, whack, whack!8he gave her such a beating that she felt the effects of it to the end of her days.

Of course it was in vain she screamed and roared for help; the servants had had their orders, and none of themdurst approach the room. It was only when she had fainted that the Turk left her alone and went his way.

But she never got her nose cured, and he married the pretty peasant girl who was the subject of his first cure.

[The two following stories contain a jumbling mixture of the incidents of the three preceding, set in a different framework; more or less mixed up with those in the stories of other countries mentioned at p. 128. Some of those in ‘The Transformation Donkey’ occur in the Siddhi Kür story of ‘The Gold-spitting Prince,’ in ‘Sagas from the Far East,’ but they are constructed into a quite different tale.]

1‘Mezza canna di Naso,’half a cane of nose. A cane is the former Roman standard measure, and was exactly equal to two mètres.↑2‘Palmo,’ was the expression used; theCannawas divided into eight palms.↑3‘Calava, calava, calava.’↑4‘Adesso so’ a cavallo.’ ‘Now I am on the way to fortune.’↑5‘Quell’ fruttivendolo’; ‘quell’ uomo’! ‘quella donna!’a vulgar way of calling after people.↑6‘Spezziale,’ a druggist (‘droghiere’ is a grocer). It is the custom in Rome for the doctors of the poor to sit in the druggists’ shops, ready to be called for.↑7‘Nasone,’ a big nose.↑8‘Pīmperte; Pāmperte! Pūmperte!’↑

1‘Mezza canna di Naso,’half a cane of nose. A cane is the former Roman standard measure, and was exactly equal to two mètres.↑

2‘Palmo,’ was the expression used; theCannawas divided into eight palms.↑

3‘Calava, calava, calava.’↑

4‘Adesso so’ a cavallo.’ ‘Now I am on the way to fortune.’↑

5‘Quell’ fruttivendolo’; ‘quell’ uomo’! ‘quella donna!’a vulgar way of calling after people.↑

6‘Spezziale,’ a druggist (‘droghiere’ is a grocer). It is the custom in Rome for the doctors of the poor to sit in the druggists’ shops, ready to be called for.↑

7‘Nasone,’ a big nose.↑

8‘Pīmperte; Pāmperte! Pūmperte!’↑

THE CHICORY-SELLER AND THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS.1There was a chicory-seller, with a wife and a son, all of them dying of hunger, and sleeping on the floor because they couldn’t afford a bed. Once when they went out in the morning to gather chicory, the son found such a large plant of it, never was such a plant seen, it took them an hour, working at it together, to pull it up, and it filled two great bags. What is more, when they had got it all up, there was a great hole in the ground.‘What can there be down in that hole?’ said the son. ‘I must go and see!’ In he jumped,2and down he went.Suddenly he found himself in the midst of a splendid palace, and a number of obsequious servants gathered round him. They all bowed to the ground, and said,‘Your lordship! your lordship!’ and asked him what he ‘pleased to want.’So there he was, dressed like a clodhopper, and all these servants dressed like princes, bowing and scraping to him.‘What do I want?’ said the lad; ‘most of all, I want a dinner.’Immediately they brought him a banquet of a dinner, and waited on him all the time. Dinner over, they dressed him like a prince.By-and-by there came in an ugly old hag, as ugly as a witch, who said,‘Good morning, Prince; are you come to marry me?’‘I’m no prince; and I’m not come to marry you most certainly!’ replied the youth.But all the servants standing round made all sorts of gesticulations that he should say ‘yes.’‘It’s no use mouthing at me,’ said the lad; ‘I shall never say “yes” tothat!’But they went on making signs all round that he should say ‘yes,’ till at last they bewildered him so, that, almost without knowing what he did, he said ‘yes.’Directly he had said ‘yes,’ there were thunder and lightning, and thunderbolts, and meteors, and howling of wind, and storm of hail. The youth felt in great fear; but the servants said:‘It is all right. She you thought an old hag is indeed a beautiful princess of eighteen, but she was under a spell; by consenting to marry her you have ended that spell, if you can only stand through the fear of this stormfor three days and three nights, no harm can come to you, and we also shall all be set free.’The whole apartment now seemed on fire, and when that ceased for a time, it seemed to rain fire all around.For two days he managed to endure, but on the third day he got so frightened that he ran away. He had not much bettered his condition, however; for, if he had got away from the magic storms of the under world, he had come into real storms in the actual world, and there he was alone in the Campagna, starving and destitute again.At last an old man appeared, who said to him:‘Why were you so foolish as to run away? You were told no harm could happen to you. Now you have nearly lost all. There is, however, one remedy left. Go on to the top of that high mountain, and gather the grass that grows there, and bring back a large bundle of it, and give it to these people to eat, and that will finish what you have begun. You will marry the princess, and share her kingdom; and all her people will be set free. For all those who waited on you as servants are noblemen of her court, who are under a spell.’‘How am I to get up to the top of that high mountain?’ said the youth; ‘it would take me a life of weariness to arrive there!’‘Take this divining-rod,’ said the old man, ‘and whatever difficulty comes in your way, touch it with this wand, and it will disappear.’The youth took the wand, and bent his steps towards the mountain. There were rivers to be crossed, and steep places to be climbed, and many perils to be encountered, but the wand overcame them all. Arrived at the top, he saw a plat of fine, long grass growing, which he made no doubt was the grass he had to take. But he thought within himself, ‘If this wand can do so much, it can surely give me also a house and a dinner; and, then, why should I toil down this mountain again at all!’‘Rod! rod! give me a nice little house!’ he commanded;3and there was a nice little house on the top of the mountain.‘Rod! rod! give me a good dinner!’ and a good dinner was spread on the table.And thus it was with everything he wanted; so he went on living on the top of the mountain, without thinking of those he had to deliver in the hole under the earth.Suddenly, there stood the old man.4‘You were not sent here to amuse yourself,’ said he, severely. ‘You were sent to fetch the means of delivering others;’ and he took the wand away from him, and touched the casino, and it disappeared, and he was once more left destitute.‘If you would repair the past,’ said the old man, as he went away, ‘gather even now a bundle of grass and take it, and perhaps you will be in time yet; but you will have to toil alone, for you have forfeited the rod. And now, remember this counsel: whoever meets you by the way and asks to buy that grass, sell it to no man, or you are undone.’As there was nothing else to be done, the youth set to work and cut some grass, and then terrible was the way he had to walk to get down again. Storms of fire broke continually over him, and every moment it seemed as though he would be precipitated to the bottom.As he reached the plain a traveller met him.‘Oh, you have some of that grass,’ said he. ‘I was just going up the mountain to get some. If you will give it me, and save my journey, I will give you a prancing horse, all covered with gold trappings studded with precious stones.’But this time the youth began to pay more attention to the injunctions laid upon him, and he shook his head, and walked on.‘Give it me,’ continued the stranger, ‘and I will giveyou in return for it a casino of your own in the Campagna, where you may live all your life.’But the youth shook his head, and continued his way, without so much as answering him.‘Give it me,’ said the stranger the third time, ‘and I will give you gold enough to make you rich all your days.’But the youth stood out the third temptation as well as the other two, and then the stranger disappeared.Without further hindrance he arrived at the chicory-hole, let himself down, and gave the grass to all the people to eat, who were half dead with waiting so long for him; and as they ate, the spell ceased. Only as he had cut the grass in an indolent sort of way, he had not brought so large a quantity as he ought, and there was one poor maiden left for whose deliverance the provision sufficed not.Meantime the whole face of the country was changed. The plain was covered with flourishing cities; over the chicory-hole was a splendid palace, where the maiden, who had under the spell looked like an old hag, took up her abode, and where the old man had promised that he should live with her for his reward.This reward he now came to claim.‘But you have not completed your task,’ said the princess.‘I think I have done a pretty good deal,’ answered the youth.‘But there is that one who is yet undelivered.’‘Oh, I can’t help aboutone. She must manage the best way she can.’‘That won’t do,’ said the princess. ‘If you want to have me, you must complete your work.’So he had to toil all the way up to the top of the mountain, and all the way down again, and at last the work was complete.Then the princess married him, and all went wondrously well.51‘Il Cicoriaro e la Principessa fatata.’↑2‘Fa una zompa;’ ‘zompa’ for ‘zomba,’ properly a blow, a thump; here, ‘jumped down with a noise like a thump.’↑3Bacchettone di comando, suits this use of it better than does the English equivalent.↑4‘Ecco il vecchio!’ such abrupt interruptions, with change of tense, are often introduced with dramatic effect by the narrators. A similar one occurs at p. 133. ‘He sounds the horn and One comes.’↑5‘E tutto andava benone;’ ‘bene,’ well; ‘benone,’ superlatively well.↑

THE CHICORY-SELLER AND THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS.1

There was a chicory-seller, with a wife and a son, all of them dying of hunger, and sleeping on the floor because they couldn’t afford a bed. Once when they went out in the morning to gather chicory, the son found such a large plant of it, never was such a plant seen, it took them an hour, working at it together, to pull it up, and it filled two great bags. What is more, when they had got it all up, there was a great hole in the ground.‘What can there be down in that hole?’ said the son. ‘I must go and see!’ In he jumped,2and down he went.Suddenly he found himself in the midst of a splendid palace, and a number of obsequious servants gathered round him. They all bowed to the ground, and said,‘Your lordship! your lordship!’ and asked him what he ‘pleased to want.’So there he was, dressed like a clodhopper, and all these servants dressed like princes, bowing and scraping to him.‘What do I want?’ said the lad; ‘most of all, I want a dinner.’Immediately they brought him a banquet of a dinner, and waited on him all the time. Dinner over, they dressed him like a prince.By-and-by there came in an ugly old hag, as ugly as a witch, who said,‘Good morning, Prince; are you come to marry me?’‘I’m no prince; and I’m not come to marry you most certainly!’ replied the youth.But all the servants standing round made all sorts of gesticulations that he should say ‘yes.’‘It’s no use mouthing at me,’ said the lad; ‘I shall never say “yes” tothat!’But they went on making signs all round that he should say ‘yes,’ till at last they bewildered him so, that, almost without knowing what he did, he said ‘yes.’Directly he had said ‘yes,’ there were thunder and lightning, and thunderbolts, and meteors, and howling of wind, and storm of hail. The youth felt in great fear; but the servants said:‘It is all right. She you thought an old hag is indeed a beautiful princess of eighteen, but she was under a spell; by consenting to marry her you have ended that spell, if you can only stand through the fear of this stormfor three days and three nights, no harm can come to you, and we also shall all be set free.’The whole apartment now seemed on fire, and when that ceased for a time, it seemed to rain fire all around.For two days he managed to endure, but on the third day he got so frightened that he ran away. He had not much bettered his condition, however; for, if he had got away from the magic storms of the under world, he had come into real storms in the actual world, and there he was alone in the Campagna, starving and destitute again.At last an old man appeared, who said to him:‘Why were you so foolish as to run away? You were told no harm could happen to you. Now you have nearly lost all. There is, however, one remedy left. Go on to the top of that high mountain, and gather the grass that grows there, and bring back a large bundle of it, and give it to these people to eat, and that will finish what you have begun. You will marry the princess, and share her kingdom; and all her people will be set free. For all those who waited on you as servants are noblemen of her court, who are under a spell.’‘How am I to get up to the top of that high mountain?’ said the youth; ‘it would take me a life of weariness to arrive there!’‘Take this divining-rod,’ said the old man, ‘and whatever difficulty comes in your way, touch it with this wand, and it will disappear.’The youth took the wand, and bent his steps towards the mountain. There were rivers to be crossed, and steep places to be climbed, and many perils to be encountered, but the wand overcame them all. Arrived at the top, he saw a plat of fine, long grass growing, which he made no doubt was the grass he had to take. But he thought within himself, ‘If this wand can do so much, it can surely give me also a house and a dinner; and, then, why should I toil down this mountain again at all!’‘Rod! rod! give me a nice little house!’ he commanded;3and there was a nice little house on the top of the mountain.‘Rod! rod! give me a good dinner!’ and a good dinner was spread on the table.And thus it was with everything he wanted; so he went on living on the top of the mountain, without thinking of those he had to deliver in the hole under the earth.Suddenly, there stood the old man.4‘You were not sent here to amuse yourself,’ said he, severely. ‘You were sent to fetch the means of delivering others;’ and he took the wand away from him, and touched the casino, and it disappeared, and he was once more left destitute.‘If you would repair the past,’ said the old man, as he went away, ‘gather even now a bundle of grass and take it, and perhaps you will be in time yet; but you will have to toil alone, for you have forfeited the rod. And now, remember this counsel: whoever meets you by the way and asks to buy that grass, sell it to no man, or you are undone.’As there was nothing else to be done, the youth set to work and cut some grass, and then terrible was the way he had to walk to get down again. Storms of fire broke continually over him, and every moment it seemed as though he would be precipitated to the bottom.As he reached the plain a traveller met him.‘Oh, you have some of that grass,’ said he. ‘I was just going up the mountain to get some. If you will give it me, and save my journey, I will give you a prancing horse, all covered with gold trappings studded with precious stones.’But this time the youth began to pay more attention to the injunctions laid upon him, and he shook his head, and walked on.‘Give it me,’ continued the stranger, ‘and I will giveyou in return for it a casino of your own in the Campagna, where you may live all your life.’But the youth shook his head, and continued his way, without so much as answering him.‘Give it me,’ said the stranger the third time, ‘and I will give you gold enough to make you rich all your days.’But the youth stood out the third temptation as well as the other two, and then the stranger disappeared.Without further hindrance he arrived at the chicory-hole, let himself down, and gave the grass to all the people to eat, who were half dead with waiting so long for him; and as they ate, the spell ceased. Only as he had cut the grass in an indolent sort of way, he had not brought so large a quantity as he ought, and there was one poor maiden left for whose deliverance the provision sufficed not.Meantime the whole face of the country was changed. The plain was covered with flourishing cities; over the chicory-hole was a splendid palace, where the maiden, who had under the spell looked like an old hag, took up her abode, and where the old man had promised that he should live with her for his reward.This reward he now came to claim.‘But you have not completed your task,’ said the princess.‘I think I have done a pretty good deal,’ answered the youth.‘But there is that one who is yet undelivered.’‘Oh, I can’t help aboutone. She must manage the best way she can.’‘That won’t do,’ said the princess. ‘If you want to have me, you must complete your work.’So he had to toil all the way up to the top of the mountain, and all the way down again, and at last the work was complete.Then the princess married him, and all went wondrously well.5

There was a chicory-seller, with a wife and a son, all of them dying of hunger, and sleeping on the floor because they couldn’t afford a bed. Once when they went out in the morning to gather chicory, the son found such a large plant of it, never was such a plant seen, it took them an hour, working at it together, to pull it up, and it filled two great bags. What is more, when they had got it all up, there was a great hole in the ground.

‘What can there be down in that hole?’ said the son. ‘I must go and see!’ In he jumped,2and down he went.

Suddenly he found himself in the midst of a splendid palace, and a number of obsequious servants gathered round him. They all bowed to the ground, and said,

‘Your lordship! your lordship!’ and asked him what he ‘pleased to want.’

So there he was, dressed like a clodhopper, and all these servants dressed like princes, bowing and scraping to him.

‘What do I want?’ said the lad; ‘most of all, I want a dinner.’

Immediately they brought him a banquet of a dinner, and waited on him all the time. Dinner over, they dressed him like a prince.

By-and-by there came in an ugly old hag, as ugly as a witch, who said,

‘Good morning, Prince; are you come to marry me?’

‘I’m no prince; and I’m not come to marry you most certainly!’ replied the youth.

But all the servants standing round made all sorts of gesticulations that he should say ‘yes.’

‘It’s no use mouthing at me,’ said the lad; ‘I shall never say “yes” tothat!’

But they went on making signs all round that he should say ‘yes,’ till at last they bewildered him so, that, almost without knowing what he did, he said ‘yes.’

Directly he had said ‘yes,’ there were thunder and lightning, and thunderbolts, and meteors, and howling of wind, and storm of hail. The youth felt in great fear; but the servants said:

‘It is all right. She you thought an old hag is indeed a beautiful princess of eighteen, but she was under a spell; by consenting to marry her you have ended that spell, if you can only stand through the fear of this stormfor three days and three nights, no harm can come to you, and we also shall all be set free.’

The whole apartment now seemed on fire, and when that ceased for a time, it seemed to rain fire all around.

For two days he managed to endure, but on the third day he got so frightened that he ran away. He had not much bettered his condition, however; for, if he had got away from the magic storms of the under world, he had come into real storms in the actual world, and there he was alone in the Campagna, starving and destitute again.

At last an old man appeared, who said to him:

‘Why were you so foolish as to run away? You were told no harm could happen to you. Now you have nearly lost all. There is, however, one remedy left. Go on to the top of that high mountain, and gather the grass that grows there, and bring back a large bundle of it, and give it to these people to eat, and that will finish what you have begun. You will marry the princess, and share her kingdom; and all her people will be set free. For all those who waited on you as servants are noblemen of her court, who are under a spell.’

‘How am I to get up to the top of that high mountain?’ said the youth; ‘it would take me a life of weariness to arrive there!’

‘Take this divining-rod,’ said the old man, ‘and whatever difficulty comes in your way, touch it with this wand, and it will disappear.’

The youth took the wand, and bent his steps towards the mountain. There were rivers to be crossed, and steep places to be climbed, and many perils to be encountered, but the wand overcame them all. Arrived at the top, he saw a plat of fine, long grass growing, which he made no doubt was the grass he had to take. But he thought within himself, ‘If this wand can do so much, it can surely give me also a house and a dinner; and, then, why should I toil down this mountain again at all!’

‘Rod! rod! give me a nice little house!’ he commanded;3and there was a nice little house on the top of the mountain.

‘Rod! rod! give me a good dinner!’ and a good dinner was spread on the table.

And thus it was with everything he wanted; so he went on living on the top of the mountain, without thinking of those he had to deliver in the hole under the earth.

Suddenly, there stood the old man.4‘You were not sent here to amuse yourself,’ said he, severely. ‘You were sent to fetch the means of delivering others;’ and he took the wand away from him, and touched the casino, and it disappeared, and he was once more left destitute.

‘If you would repair the past,’ said the old man, as he went away, ‘gather even now a bundle of grass and take it, and perhaps you will be in time yet; but you will have to toil alone, for you have forfeited the rod. And now, remember this counsel: whoever meets you by the way and asks to buy that grass, sell it to no man, or you are undone.’

As there was nothing else to be done, the youth set to work and cut some grass, and then terrible was the way he had to walk to get down again. Storms of fire broke continually over him, and every moment it seemed as though he would be precipitated to the bottom.

As he reached the plain a traveller met him.

‘Oh, you have some of that grass,’ said he. ‘I was just going up the mountain to get some. If you will give it me, and save my journey, I will give you a prancing horse, all covered with gold trappings studded with precious stones.’

But this time the youth began to pay more attention to the injunctions laid upon him, and he shook his head, and walked on.

‘Give it me,’ continued the stranger, ‘and I will giveyou in return for it a casino of your own in the Campagna, where you may live all your life.’

But the youth shook his head, and continued his way, without so much as answering him.

‘Give it me,’ said the stranger the third time, ‘and I will give you gold enough to make you rich all your days.’

But the youth stood out the third temptation as well as the other two, and then the stranger disappeared.

Without further hindrance he arrived at the chicory-hole, let himself down, and gave the grass to all the people to eat, who were half dead with waiting so long for him; and as they ate, the spell ceased. Only as he had cut the grass in an indolent sort of way, he had not brought so large a quantity as he ought, and there was one poor maiden left for whose deliverance the provision sufficed not.

Meantime the whole face of the country was changed. The plain was covered with flourishing cities; over the chicory-hole was a splendid palace, where the maiden, who had under the spell looked like an old hag, took up her abode, and where the old man had promised that he should live with her for his reward.

This reward he now came to claim.

‘But you have not completed your task,’ said the princess.

‘I think I have done a pretty good deal,’ answered the youth.

‘But there is that one who is yet undelivered.’

‘Oh, I can’t help aboutone. She must manage the best way she can.’

‘That won’t do,’ said the princess. ‘If you want to have me, you must complete your work.’

So he had to toil all the way up to the top of the mountain, and all the way down again, and at last the work was complete.

Then the princess married him, and all went wondrously well.5

1‘Il Cicoriaro e la Principessa fatata.’↑2‘Fa una zompa;’ ‘zompa’ for ‘zomba,’ properly a blow, a thump; here, ‘jumped down with a noise like a thump.’↑3Bacchettone di comando, suits this use of it better than does the English equivalent.↑4‘Ecco il vecchio!’ such abrupt interruptions, with change of tense, are often introduced with dramatic effect by the narrators. A similar one occurs at p. 133. ‘He sounds the horn and One comes.’↑5‘E tutto andava benone;’ ‘bene,’ well; ‘benone,’ superlatively well.↑

1‘Il Cicoriaro e la Principessa fatata.’↑

2‘Fa una zompa;’ ‘zompa’ for ‘zomba,’ properly a blow, a thump; here, ‘jumped down with a noise like a thump.’↑

3Bacchettone di comando, suits this use of it better than does the English equivalent.↑

4‘Ecco il vecchio!’ such abrupt interruptions, with change of tense, are often introduced with dramatic effect by the narrators. A similar one occurs at p. 133. ‘He sounds the horn and One comes.’↑

5‘E tutto andava benone;’ ‘bene,’ well; ‘benone,’ superlatively well.↑

THE TRANSFORMATION-DONKEY.1There was once a poor chicory-seller: all chicory-sellers are poor, but this was a very poor one, and he had a large family of daughters and two sons. The daughters he left at home with their mother, but the two sons he took with him to gather chicory. While they were out gathering chicory one day, a great bird flew down before them and dropped an egg and then flew away again. The boys picked up the egg and brought it to their father, because there were some figures like strange writing on it which they could not read; but neither could the father read the strange writing, so he took the egg to a farmer.2The farmer read the writing, and it said:—‘Whoso eats my head, he shall be an emperor.’‘Whoso eats my heart, he shall never want for money.’‘Ho, ho!’ said the farmer to himself, ‘it won’t do to tell the fellow this; I must manage to eat both the head and the heart myself.’ So he said, ‘The meaning of it is that whoever eats the bird will make a very good dinner; so to-morrow when the bird comes back, as she doubtless will to lay another egg, have a good stick ready and knock her down; then you can make a fire, and bake it between the stones, and I will come and eat it with you if you like.’The poor chicory-seller thought his fortune was made when a farmer offered to dine with him, and the hours seemed long enough till next morning came.With next morning, however, came the bird again. The chicory-seller was ready with his stick and knocked her down, and the boys made a fire and cooked the bird. But as they were not very apt at the trussing and cooking, the head dropped into the fire, and the youngest boy said: ‘This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;’ so he ate it. The heart also fell into the fire and got burnt, and the eldest boy said: ‘This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;’ so he ate that.By-and-by the farmer came, and they all sat down on a bank—the farmer quite jovial at the idea of the immense advantage he was going to gain, and the chicory-seller quite elated at the idea of entertaining a farmer.‘Bring forward the roast, boys,’ said the father; and the boys brought the bird.‘What have you done with the head?’ exclaimed the farmer, the moment he saw the bird.‘Oh, it got burnt, and I ate it,’ said the younger boy.The merchant ground his teeth and stamped his foot, but he dared not say why he was so angry; so he sat silent while the chicory-seller took out his knife3and cut the bird up in portions.‘Give me the piece with the heart, if I may choose,’ said the merchant; ‘I’m very fond of birds’ hearts.’‘Certainly, any part you like,’ replied the chicory-seller, nervously turning all the pieces over and over again; ‘but I can’t find any heart. Boys, had the bird no heart?’‘Yes, papa,’ answered the elder brother, ‘it had a heart, sure enough; but it tumbled into the fire and got burnt, and so I ate it.’There was no object in disguising his fury any longer, so the farmer exclaimed testily, ‘Thank you, I’ll nothave any then; the head and the heart are just the only parts of a bird I care to eat.’ And so saying he turned on his heel and went away.‘Look, boys, what you’ve done! You’ve thrown away the best chance we ever had in our lives!’ cried the father in despair.4‘After the farmer had taken dinner with us he must have asked us to dine with him, and, as one civility always brings another, there is no saying what it might not have led to. However, as you have chosen to throw the chance away, you may go and look out for yourselves. I’ve done with you.’ And with a sound cudgelling5he drove them away.The two boys, left to themselves, wandered on till they came to a stable, when they entered the yard and asked to be allowed to do some work or other as a means of subsistence.‘I’ve nothing for you to do,’ said the landlord; ‘but, as it’s late, you may sleep on the straw there, on the condition that you go about your business to-morrow first thing.’The boys, glad to get a night’s lodging on any condition, went to sleep in the straw. When the elder brother woke in the morning he found a box of sequins6under his head.‘How could this have come here,’ soliloquised the boy, ‘unless the host had put it there to see if we were honest? Well, thank God, if we’re poor there’s no danger of either of us taking what doesn’t belong to us.’ So he took the box to the host, and said: ‘There’s your box of sequins quite safe. You needn’t have taken the trouble to test our honesty in that way.’The host was very much surprised, but he thought the best way was to take the money and say nothing but ‘I’m glad to see you’re such good boys.’ So he gave them breakfast and some provisions for the way.Next night they found themselves still in the opencountry and no inn near, and they were obliged to be content to sleep on the bare ground. Next morning when they woke the younger boy again found a box of sequins under his head.‘Only think of that host not being satisfied with trying us once, but to come all this way after us to test our honesty again. However, I suppose we must take it back to him.’So they walked all the way back to the host and said: ‘Here’s your box of sequins back; as we didn’t steal it the first time it was not likely we should take it the second time.’The host was more and more astonished; but he took the money without saying anything, only he praised the boys for being so good and gave them a hearty meal. And they went their way, taking a new direction.The next night the younger brother said: ‘Do you know I’ve my doubts about the host having put that box of sequins under your head. How could he have done it out in the open country without our seeing him? To-night I will watch, and if he doesn’t come, and in the morning there is another box of sequins, it will be a sign that it is your own.’He did so, and next morning there was another box of sequins. So they decided it was honestly their own, and they carried it by turns and journeyed on. About noon they came to a great city where the emperor was lately dead, and all the people were in great excitement about choosing another emperor. The population was all divided in factions, each of which had a candidate, and none would let the candidate of the others reign. There was so much fighting and quarrelling in the streets that the brothers got separated, and saw each other no more.At this time it happened that it was the turn of the younger brother to be carrying the box of sequins. When the sentinels at the gate saw a stranger coming in carryinga box they said, ‘We must see what this is,’ and they took him to the minister. When the minister saw his box was full of sequins he said, ‘This must be our emperor.’ And all the people said, ‘Yes, this is our emperor. Long live our emperor!’ And thus the boy became an emperor.But the elder brother had entered unperceived into the town, and went to ask hospitality in a house where was a woman with a beautiful daughter; so they let him stay. That night also there came a box of sequins under his head; so he went out and bought meat and fuel and all manner of provisions, and gave them to the mother, and said, ‘Because you took me in when I was poor last night, I have brought you all these provisions out of gratitude,’ and for the beautiful daughter he bought silks and damasks, and ornaments of gold. But the daughter said, ‘How comes it, tell me, that you, who were a poor footsore wayfarer last night, have now such boundless riches at command?’ And because she was beautiful and spoke kindly to him, he suspected no evil, but told her, saying, ‘Every morning when I wake now, I find a box of sequins under my head.’‘And how comes it,’ said she, ‘that you find a box of sequins under your head now, and not formerly?’ ‘I do not know,’ he answered,‘unless it be because one day when I was out with father gathering chicory, a great bird came and dropt an egg with some strange writing on it, which we could not read. But a farmer read it for us; only he would not tell us what it said, but that we should cook the bird and eat it. While we were cooking it the heart fell into the fire and got burnt, and I ate it: and when the farmer heard this he grew very angry. I think, therefore, the writing on the egg said that he who ate the heart of the bird should have many sequins.’After this they spent the day pleasantly together; but the daughter put an emetic in his wine at supper, and so made him bring up the bird’s heart, which she kept forherself, and the next morning when he woke there was no box of sequins under his head. When he rose in the morning also the beautiful girl and her mother turned him out of the house, and he wandered forth again.At last, being weary and full of sorrow, he sat down on the ground by the side of a stream crying. Immediately three fairies appeared to him and asked him why he wept. And when he told them, they said to him: ‘Weep no more, for instead of the bird’s heart we give you this sheepskin jacket, the pockets of which will always be full of sequins. How many soever you may take out they will always remain full.’ Then they disappeared; but he immediately went back to the house of the beautiful girl, taking her rich and fine presents; but she said to him, ‘How comes it that you, who had no money left when you went away, have now the means to buy all these fine presents?’ Then he told her of the gift of the three fairies, and they let him sleep in the house again, but the daughter called her maid to her and said: ‘Make a sheepskin jacket exactly like that in the stranger’s room.’ So she made one, and they put it in his room, and took away the one the fairies had given him, and in the morning they drove him from the house again. Then he went and sat down by the stream and wept again; but the fairies came and asked him why he wept; and he told them, saying, ‘Because they have driven me away from the house where I stayed, and I have no home to go to, and this jacket has no more sequins in the pockets.’ Then the fairies looked at the jacket, and they said, ‘This is not the jacket we gave you; it has been changed by fraud:’ so they gave him in place of it a wand, and they said, ‘With this wand strike the table, and whatever you may desire, be it meat or drink or clothes, or whatsoever you may want, it shall come upon the table.’ The next day he went back to the house of the woman and her daughter, and sat down without saying anything, but he struck the table with his wand,wishing for a great banquet, and immediately it was covered with the choicest dishes. There was no need to ask him questions this time, for they saw in what his gift consisted, and in the night, when he was asleep, they took his wand away. In the morning they drove him forth out of the house, and he went back to the stream and sat down to cry. Again the fairies appeared to him and comforted him; but they said, ‘This is the last time we may appear to you. Here is a ring; keep it on your hand; for if you lose this gift there is nothing more we may do for you;’ and they went away. But he immediately returned to the house of the woman and her beautiful daughter. They let him in, ‘Because,’ they said, ‘doubtless the fairies have given him some other gift of which we may take profit.’ And as he sat there he said, ‘All the other gifts of the fairies have I lost, but this one they have given me now I cannot lose, because it is a ring which fits my finger, and no one can take it from my hand.’‘And of what use is your ring?’ asked the beautiful daughter.‘Its use is that whatever I wish for while I have it on I obtain directly, whatever it may be.’‘Then wish,’ said she, ‘that we may be both together on the top of that high mountain, and a sumptuousmerenda7spread out for us.’‘To be sure!’ he replied, and he repeated her wish. Instantly they found themselves on the top of the high mountain with a plentifulmerendabefore them; but she had a vial of opium with her, and while his head was turned away she poured the opium into his wine. Presently after this he fell into a sound sleep, so sound that there was no fear of waking him. Immediately she took the ring from his finger and put it on her own; then she wished that she might be replaced at home and that he might be left on the top of the mountain. And so it was done.In the morning when he woke and found himself all alone on the top of the high mountain and his ring gone, he wept bitter tears, and felt too weary to attempt the descent of the steep mountain side. For three days he remained here weary and weeping, and then, becoming faint from hunger, he took some of the herbs that grew on the mountain top for food. As soon as he had eaten these he was turned into a donkey,8but as he retained his human intelligence, he said to himself, this herb has its uses, and he filled one of the panniers on his back with it. Then he came down from the mountain, and when he was at the foot of it, being hungry with the long journey, he ate of the grass that grew there, and, behold! he was transformed back into his natural shape; so he filled the other basket with this kind of grass and went his way.Having dressed himself like a street seller, he took the basket of the herb which had the property of changing the eater into a donkey, and stood under the window of the house where he had been so evil entreated, and cried, ‘Fine salad! fine salad! who will buy my fine salad?’9‘What is there so specially good about your salad?’ asked the maid, looking out. ‘My young mistress is particularly fond of salad, so if yours is so very superfine, you had better come up.’He did not wait to be twice told. As soon as he saw the beautiful daughter, he said, ‘This is fine salad, indeed, the finest of the fine, all fresh gathered, and the first of its kind that ever was sold.’‘Very likely it’s the first of its kind that ever was sold,’ said she; ‘but I don’t like to buy things I haven’t tried; it may turn out not to be nice.’‘Oh, try it, try it freely; don’t buy without trying;’ and he picked one of the freshest and crispest bunches.She took one in her hand and bit a few blades, and no sooner had she done so than she too became a donkey. Then he put the panniers on her back and drove her allover the town, constantly cudgelling her till she sank under the blows. Then one who saw him belabour her thus, said, ‘This must not be; you must come and answer before the emperor for thus belabouring the poor brute;’ but he refused to go unless he took the donkey with him; so they went to the emperor and said, ‘Here is one who is belabouring his donkey till she has sunk under his blows, and he refuses to come before the emperor to answer his cruelty unless he bring his donkey with him.’ And the emperor made answer, ‘Let him bring the beast with him.’So they brought him and his donkey before the emperor. When he found himself before the emperor he said, ‘All these must go away; to the emperor alone can I tell why I belabour my donkey.’ So the emperor commanded all the people to go to a distance while he took him and his donkey apart. As soon as he found himself alone with the emperor he said, ‘See, it is I, thy brother!’ and he embraced him. Then he told him all that had befallen him since they parted. Then said the emperor to the donkey, ‘Go now with him home, and show him where thou hast laid all the things—the bird’s heart, the sheepskin jacket, the wand, and the ring, that he may bring them hither; and if thou deliver them up faithfully I will command that he give thee of that grass to eat which shall give thee back thy natural form.’So they went back to the house and fetched all the things, and the emperor said, ‘Come thou now and live with me, and give me of thy sequins, and I will share the empire with thee.’ Thus they reigned together.But to the donkey they gave of the grass to eat, which restored her natural form, only that her beauty was marred by the cudgelling she had received. And she said, ‘Had I not been so wilful and malicious I had now been empress.’[In these stories we have had the actions of threeFate, somewhat resembling English fairies; in the following, we meet with three who, as often happens in Roman stories, are nothing better than witches.]1‘La Somara.’↑2The ‘mercante di Campagna’ occupies the place of farmer in thesocial system of Rome; that is, he produces and deals in grain and cattle; there is ‘buttaro’ (cattle breeder) besides; but the characteristics of each are so different that the one does not well translate the other.↑3‘Cortello’ for ‘coltello’ (a knife). The substitution ofrforlin a good many words is a common Romanism.↑4‘Dishperato’ for ‘disperato’ (‘out of himself with vexation’), is another Romanism; as also↑5‘Bashtonata’ for ‘bastonata’ (a cudgelling); at least many Romans, particularly old-fashioned people, when using some words in whichspandstoccur, put in anhon occasions requiring great vehemence of expression.↑6Zecchini. Thezecchinowas the gold standard coin in Rome before that of thescudowas adopted. Its value was fixed in the reign of Clement XIII., 1758, at two scudi and twenty bajocchi—something between 10s.and 11s.; it was current till a few years back; and ‘zecchini’ is a common way of saying ‘money’ when a large sum is spoken of, just as we still talk of guineas.↑7‘Merenda’ is a supplementary meal taken at any time of day. It is not exactly lunch, because the habit of taking lunch at one and dining late has not yet obtained to any great extent in Rome; and where it has, lunch is called ‘déjeûner’; breakfast (i.e. a cup of coffee and a roll early in the morning) is always called ‘colazione.’ The established custom of Rome is dinner (‘pranzo,’ or ‘desinare,’) at twelve, and supper (‘cena’) an hour or two after the Ave, varying, therefore, according to the time of year, from six or seven till nine or ten, and even later. ‘Merenda’ is a light meal between ‘pranzo’ and ‘cena’ of not altogether general use, and chiefly on occasions of driving outside the gates to spend the afternoon at a country villa or casino.↑8‘Soma’ is a burden; ‘somaro’ or ‘somura’ an ass used for carrying burdens. Thus in the next line it is spoken of as having panniers on as a matter of course.↑9‘Che bell’ insalatina; chi vuol insalatina; che bell’ insalatina!’ a common form of crying. ‘Che belle mela!’ ‘What fine apples!’ ‘Che belle persiche!’ or ‘What fine peaches!’ may be heard all the year round.↑

THE TRANSFORMATION-DONKEY.1

There was once a poor chicory-seller: all chicory-sellers are poor, but this was a very poor one, and he had a large family of daughters and two sons. The daughters he left at home with their mother, but the two sons he took with him to gather chicory. While they were out gathering chicory one day, a great bird flew down before them and dropped an egg and then flew away again. The boys picked up the egg and brought it to their father, because there were some figures like strange writing on it which they could not read; but neither could the father read the strange writing, so he took the egg to a farmer.2The farmer read the writing, and it said:—‘Whoso eats my head, he shall be an emperor.’‘Whoso eats my heart, he shall never want for money.’‘Ho, ho!’ said the farmer to himself, ‘it won’t do to tell the fellow this; I must manage to eat both the head and the heart myself.’ So he said, ‘The meaning of it is that whoever eats the bird will make a very good dinner; so to-morrow when the bird comes back, as she doubtless will to lay another egg, have a good stick ready and knock her down; then you can make a fire, and bake it between the stones, and I will come and eat it with you if you like.’The poor chicory-seller thought his fortune was made when a farmer offered to dine with him, and the hours seemed long enough till next morning came.With next morning, however, came the bird again. The chicory-seller was ready with his stick and knocked her down, and the boys made a fire and cooked the bird. But as they were not very apt at the trussing and cooking, the head dropped into the fire, and the youngest boy said: ‘This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;’ so he ate it. The heart also fell into the fire and got burnt, and the eldest boy said: ‘This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;’ so he ate that.By-and-by the farmer came, and they all sat down on a bank—the farmer quite jovial at the idea of the immense advantage he was going to gain, and the chicory-seller quite elated at the idea of entertaining a farmer.‘Bring forward the roast, boys,’ said the father; and the boys brought the bird.‘What have you done with the head?’ exclaimed the farmer, the moment he saw the bird.‘Oh, it got burnt, and I ate it,’ said the younger boy.The merchant ground his teeth and stamped his foot, but he dared not say why he was so angry; so he sat silent while the chicory-seller took out his knife3and cut the bird up in portions.‘Give me the piece with the heart, if I may choose,’ said the merchant; ‘I’m very fond of birds’ hearts.’‘Certainly, any part you like,’ replied the chicory-seller, nervously turning all the pieces over and over again; ‘but I can’t find any heart. Boys, had the bird no heart?’‘Yes, papa,’ answered the elder brother, ‘it had a heart, sure enough; but it tumbled into the fire and got burnt, and so I ate it.’There was no object in disguising his fury any longer, so the farmer exclaimed testily, ‘Thank you, I’ll nothave any then; the head and the heart are just the only parts of a bird I care to eat.’ And so saying he turned on his heel and went away.‘Look, boys, what you’ve done! You’ve thrown away the best chance we ever had in our lives!’ cried the father in despair.4‘After the farmer had taken dinner with us he must have asked us to dine with him, and, as one civility always brings another, there is no saying what it might not have led to. However, as you have chosen to throw the chance away, you may go and look out for yourselves. I’ve done with you.’ And with a sound cudgelling5he drove them away.The two boys, left to themselves, wandered on till they came to a stable, when they entered the yard and asked to be allowed to do some work or other as a means of subsistence.‘I’ve nothing for you to do,’ said the landlord; ‘but, as it’s late, you may sleep on the straw there, on the condition that you go about your business to-morrow first thing.’The boys, glad to get a night’s lodging on any condition, went to sleep in the straw. When the elder brother woke in the morning he found a box of sequins6under his head.‘How could this have come here,’ soliloquised the boy, ‘unless the host had put it there to see if we were honest? Well, thank God, if we’re poor there’s no danger of either of us taking what doesn’t belong to us.’ So he took the box to the host, and said: ‘There’s your box of sequins quite safe. You needn’t have taken the trouble to test our honesty in that way.’The host was very much surprised, but he thought the best way was to take the money and say nothing but ‘I’m glad to see you’re such good boys.’ So he gave them breakfast and some provisions for the way.Next night they found themselves still in the opencountry and no inn near, and they were obliged to be content to sleep on the bare ground. Next morning when they woke the younger boy again found a box of sequins under his head.‘Only think of that host not being satisfied with trying us once, but to come all this way after us to test our honesty again. However, I suppose we must take it back to him.’So they walked all the way back to the host and said: ‘Here’s your box of sequins back; as we didn’t steal it the first time it was not likely we should take it the second time.’The host was more and more astonished; but he took the money without saying anything, only he praised the boys for being so good and gave them a hearty meal. And they went their way, taking a new direction.The next night the younger brother said: ‘Do you know I’ve my doubts about the host having put that box of sequins under your head. How could he have done it out in the open country without our seeing him? To-night I will watch, and if he doesn’t come, and in the morning there is another box of sequins, it will be a sign that it is your own.’He did so, and next morning there was another box of sequins. So they decided it was honestly their own, and they carried it by turns and journeyed on. About noon they came to a great city where the emperor was lately dead, and all the people were in great excitement about choosing another emperor. The population was all divided in factions, each of which had a candidate, and none would let the candidate of the others reign. There was so much fighting and quarrelling in the streets that the brothers got separated, and saw each other no more.At this time it happened that it was the turn of the younger brother to be carrying the box of sequins. When the sentinels at the gate saw a stranger coming in carryinga box they said, ‘We must see what this is,’ and they took him to the minister. When the minister saw his box was full of sequins he said, ‘This must be our emperor.’ And all the people said, ‘Yes, this is our emperor. Long live our emperor!’ And thus the boy became an emperor.But the elder brother had entered unperceived into the town, and went to ask hospitality in a house where was a woman with a beautiful daughter; so they let him stay. That night also there came a box of sequins under his head; so he went out and bought meat and fuel and all manner of provisions, and gave them to the mother, and said, ‘Because you took me in when I was poor last night, I have brought you all these provisions out of gratitude,’ and for the beautiful daughter he bought silks and damasks, and ornaments of gold. But the daughter said, ‘How comes it, tell me, that you, who were a poor footsore wayfarer last night, have now such boundless riches at command?’ And because she was beautiful and spoke kindly to him, he suspected no evil, but told her, saying, ‘Every morning when I wake now, I find a box of sequins under my head.’‘And how comes it,’ said she, ‘that you find a box of sequins under your head now, and not formerly?’ ‘I do not know,’ he answered,‘unless it be because one day when I was out with father gathering chicory, a great bird came and dropt an egg with some strange writing on it, which we could not read. But a farmer read it for us; only he would not tell us what it said, but that we should cook the bird and eat it. While we were cooking it the heart fell into the fire and got burnt, and I ate it: and when the farmer heard this he grew very angry. I think, therefore, the writing on the egg said that he who ate the heart of the bird should have many sequins.’After this they spent the day pleasantly together; but the daughter put an emetic in his wine at supper, and so made him bring up the bird’s heart, which she kept forherself, and the next morning when he woke there was no box of sequins under his head. When he rose in the morning also the beautiful girl and her mother turned him out of the house, and he wandered forth again.At last, being weary and full of sorrow, he sat down on the ground by the side of a stream crying. Immediately three fairies appeared to him and asked him why he wept. And when he told them, they said to him: ‘Weep no more, for instead of the bird’s heart we give you this sheepskin jacket, the pockets of which will always be full of sequins. How many soever you may take out they will always remain full.’ Then they disappeared; but he immediately went back to the house of the beautiful girl, taking her rich and fine presents; but she said to him, ‘How comes it that you, who had no money left when you went away, have now the means to buy all these fine presents?’ Then he told her of the gift of the three fairies, and they let him sleep in the house again, but the daughter called her maid to her and said: ‘Make a sheepskin jacket exactly like that in the stranger’s room.’ So she made one, and they put it in his room, and took away the one the fairies had given him, and in the morning they drove him from the house again. Then he went and sat down by the stream and wept again; but the fairies came and asked him why he wept; and he told them, saying, ‘Because they have driven me away from the house where I stayed, and I have no home to go to, and this jacket has no more sequins in the pockets.’ Then the fairies looked at the jacket, and they said, ‘This is not the jacket we gave you; it has been changed by fraud:’ so they gave him in place of it a wand, and they said, ‘With this wand strike the table, and whatever you may desire, be it meat or drink or clothes, or whatsoever you may want, it shall come upon the table.’ The next day he went back to the house of the woman and her daughter, and sat down without saying anything, but he struck the table with his wand,wishing for a great banquet, and immediately it was covered with the choicest dishes. There was no need to ask him questions this time, for they saw in what his gift consisted, and in the night, when he was asleep, they took his wand away. In the morning they drove him forth out of the house, and he went back to the stream and sat down to cry. Again the fairies appeared to him and comforted him; but they said, ‘This is the last time we may appear to you. Here is a ring; keep it on your hand; for if you lose this gift there is nothing more we may do for you;’ and they went away. But he immediately returned to the house of the woman and her beautiful daughter. They let him in, ‘Because,’ they said, ‘doubtless the fairies have given him some other gift of which we may take profit.’ And as he sat there he said, ‘All the other gifts of the fairies have I lost, but this one they have given me now I cannot lose, because it is a ring which fits my finger, and no one can take it from my hand.’‘And of what use is your ring?’ asked the beautiful daughter.‘Its use is that whatever I wish for while I have it on I obtain directly, whatever it may be.’‘Then wish,’ said she, ‘that we may be both together on the top of that high mountain, and a sumptuousmerenda7spread out for us.’‘To be sure!’ he replied, and he repeated her wish. Instantly they found themselves on the top of the high mountain with a plentifulmerendabefore them; but she had a vial of opium with her, and while his head was turned away she poured the opium into his wine. Presently after this he fell into a sound sleep, so sound that there was no fear of waking him. Immediately she took the ring from his finger and put it on her own; then she wished that she might be replaced at home and that he might be left on the top of the mountain. And so it was done.In the morning when he woke and found himself all alone on the top of the high mountain and his ring gone, he wept bitter tears, and felt too weary to attempt the descent of the steep mountain side. For three days he remained here weary and weeping, and then, becoming faint from hunger, he took some of the herbs that grew on the mountain top for food. As soon as he had eaten these he was turned into a donkey,8but as he retained his human intelligence, he said to himself, this herb has its uses, and he filled one of the panniers on his back with it. Then he came down from the mountain, and when he was at the foot of it, being hungry with the long journey, he ate of the grass that grew there, and, behold! he was transformed back into his natural shape; so he filled the other basket with this kind of grass and went his way.Having dressed himself like a street seller, he took the basket of the herb which had the property of changing the eater into a donkey, and stood under the window of the house where he had been so evil entreated, and cried, ‘Fine salad! fine salad! who will buy my fine salad?’9‘What is there so specially good about your salad?’ asked the maid, looking out. ‘My young mistress is particularly fond of salad, so if yours is so very superfine, you had better come up.’He did not wait to be twice told. As soon as he saw the beautiful daughter, he said, ‘This is fine salad, indeed, the finest of the fine, all fresh gathered, and the first of its kind that ever was sold.’‘Very likely it’s the first of its kind that ever was sold,’ said she; ‘but I don’t like to buy things I haven’t tried; it may turn out not to be nice.’‘Oh, try it, try it freely; don’t buy without trying;’ and he picked one of the freshest and crispest bunches.She took one in her hand and bit a few blades, and no sooner had she done so than she too became a donkey. Then he put the panniers on her back and drove her allover the town, constantly cudgelling her till she sank under the blows. Then one who saw him belabour her thus, said, ‘This must not be; you must come and answer before the emperor for thus belabouring the poor brute;’ but he refused to go unless he took the donkey with him; so they went to the emperor and said, ‘Here is one who is belabouring his donkey till she has sunk under his blows, and he refuses to come before the emperor to answer his cruelty unless he bring his donkey with him.’ And the emperor made answer, ‘Let him bring the beast with him.’So they brought him and his donkey before the emperor. When he found himself before the emperor he said, ‘All these must go away; to the emperor alone can I tell why I belabour my donkey.’ So the emperor commanded all the people to go to a distance while he took him and his donkey apart. As soon as he found himself alone with the emperor he said, ‘See, it is I, thy brother!’ and he embraced him. Then he told him all that had befallen him since they parted. Then said the emperor to the donkey, ‘Go now with him home, and show him where thou hast laid all the things—the bird’s heart, the sheepskin jacket, the wand, and the ring, that he may bring them hither; and if thou deliver them up faithfully I will command that he give thee of that grass to eat which shall give thee back thy natural form.’So they went back to the house and fetched all the things, and the emperor said, ‘Come thou now and live with me, and give me of thy sequins, and I will share the empire with thee.’ Thus they reigned together.But to the donkey they gave of the grass to eat, which restored her natural form, only that her beauty was marred by the cudgelling she had received. And she said, ‘Had I not been so wilful and malicious I had now been empress.’[In these stories we have had the actions of threeFate, somewhat resembling English fairies; in the following, we meet with three who, as often happens in Roman stories, are nothing better than witches.]

There was once a poor chicory-seller: all chicory-sellers are poor, but this was a very poor one, and he had a large family of daughters and two sons. The daughters he left at home with their mother, but the two sons he took with him to gather chicory. While they were out gathering chicory one day, a great bird flew down before them and dropped an egg and then flew away again. The boys picked up the egg and brought it to their father, because there were some figures like strange writing on it which they could not read; but neither could the father read the strange writing, so he took the egg to a farmer.2The farmer read the writing, and it said:—

‘Whoso eats my head, he shall be an emperor.’

‘Whoso eats my heart, he shall never want for money.’

‘Ho, ho!’ said the farmer to himself, ‘it won’t do to tell the fellow this; I must manage to eat both the head and the heart myself.’ So he said, ‘The meaning of it is that whoever eats the bird will make a very good dinner; so to-morrow when the bird comes back, as she doubtless will to lay another egg, have a good stick ready and knock her down; then you can make a fire, and bake it between the stones, and I will come and eat it with you if you like.’

The poor chicory-seller thought his fortune was made when a farmer offered to dine with him, and the hours seemed long enough till next morning came.

With next morning, however, came the bird again. The chicory-seller was ready with his stick and knocked her down, and the boys made a fire and cooked the bird. But as they were not very apt at the trussing and cooking, the head dropped into the fire, and the youngest boy said: ‘This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;’ so he ate it. The heart also fell into the fire and got burnt, and the eldest boy said: ‘This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;’ so he ate that.

By-and-by the farmer came, and they all sat down on a bank—the farmer quite jovial at the idea of the immense advantage he was going to gain, and the chicory-seller quite elated at the idea of entertaining a farmer.

‘Bring forward the roast, boys,’ said the father; and the boys brought the bird.

‘What have you done with the head?’ exclaimed the farmer, the moment he saw the bird.

‘Oh, it got burnt, and I ate it,’ said the younger boy.

The merchant ground his teeth and stamped his foot, but he dared not say why he was so angry; so he sat silent while the chicory-seller took out his knife3and cut the bird up in portions.

‘Give me the piece with the heart, if I may choose,’ said the merchant; ‘I’m very fond of birds’ hearts.’

‘Certainly, any part you like,’ replied the chicory-seller, nervously turning all the pieces over and over again; ‘but I can’t find any heart. Boys, had the bird no heart?’

‘Yes, papa,’ answered the elder brother, ‘it had a heart, sure enough; but it tumbled into the fire and got burnt, and so I ate it.’

There was no object in disguising his fury any longer, so the farmer exclaimed testily, ‘Thank you, I’ll nothave any then; the head and the heart are just the only parts of a bird I care to eat.’ And so saying he turned on his heel and went away.

‘Look, boys, what you’ve done! You’ve thrown away the best chance we ever had in our lives!’ cried the father in despair.4‘After the farmer had taken dinner with us he must have asked us to dine with him, and, as one civility always brings another, there is no saying what it might not have led to. However, as you have chosen to throw the chance away, you may go and look out for yourselves. I’ve done with you.’ And with a sound cudgelling5he drove them away.

The two boys, left to themselves, wandered on till they came to a stable, when they entered the yard and asked to be allowed to do some work or other as a means of subsistence.

‘I’ve nothing for you to do,’ said the landlord; ‘but, as it’s late, you may sleep on the straw there, on the condition that you go about your business to-morrow first thing.’

The boys, glad to get a night’s lodging on any condition, went to sleep in the straw. When the elder brother woke in the morning he found a box of sequins6under his head.

‘How could this have come here,’ soliloquised the boy, ‘unless the host had put it there to see if we were honest? Well, thank God, if we’re poor there’s no danger of either of us taking what doesn’t belong to us.’ So he took the box to the host, and said: ‘There’s your box of sequins quite safe. You needn’t have taken the trouble to test our honesty in that way.’

The host was very much surprised, but he thought the best way was to take the money and say nothing but ‘I’m glad to see you’re such good boys.’ So he gave them breakfast and some provisions for the way.

Next night they found themselves still in the opencountry and no inn near, and they were obliged to be content to sleep on the bare ground. Next morning when they woke the younger boy again found a box of sequins under his head.

‘Only think of that host not being satisfied with trying us once, but to come all this way after us to test our honesty again. However, I suppose we must take it back to him.’

So they walked all the way back to the host and said: ‘Here’s your box of sequins back; as we didn’t steal it the first time it was not likely we should take it the second time.’

The host was more and more astonished; but he took the money without saying anything, only he praised the boys for being so good and gave them a hearty meal. And they went their way, taking a new direction.

The next night the younger brother said: ‘Do you know I’ve my doubts about the host having put that box of sequins under your head. How could he have done it out in the open country without our seeing him? To-night I will watch, and if he doesn’t come, and in the morning there is another box of sequins, it will be a sign that it is your own.’

He did so, and next morning there was another box of sequins. So they decided it was honestly their own, and they carried it by turns and journeyed on. About noon they came to a great city where the emperor was lately dead, and all the people were in great excitement about choosing another emperor. The population was all divided in factions, each of which had a candidate, and none would let the candidate of the others reign. There was so much fighting and quarrelling in the streets that the brothers got separated, and saw each other no more.

At this time it happened that it was the turn of the younger brother to be carrying the box of sequins. When the sentinels at the gate saw a stranger coming in carryinga box they said, ‘We must see what this is,’ and they took him to the minister. When the minister saw his box was full of sequins he said, ‘This must be our emperor.’ And all the people said, ‘Yes, this is our emperor. Long live our emperor!’ And thus the boy became an emperor.

But the elder brother had entered unperceived into the town, and went to ask hospitality in a house where was a woman with a beautiful daughter; so they let him stay. That night also there came a box of sequins under his head; so he went out and bought meat and fuel and all manner of provisions, and gave them to the mother, and said, ‘Because you took me in when I was poor last night, I have brought you all these provisions out of gratitude,’ and for the beautiful daughter he bought silks and damasks, and ornaments of gold. But the daughter said, ‘How comes it, tell me, that you, who were a poor footsore wayfarer last night, have now such boundless riches at command?’ And because she was beautiful and spoke kindly to him, he suspected no evil, but told her, saying, ‘Every morning when I wake now, I find a box of sequins under my head.’

‘And how comes it,’ said she, ‘that you find a box of sequins under your head now, and not formerly?’ ‘I do not know,’ he answered,‘unless it be because one day when I was out with father gathering chicory, a great bird came and dropt an egg with some strange writing on it, which we could not read. But a farmer read it for us; only he would not tell us what it said, but that we should cook the bird and eat it. While we were cooking it the heart fell into the fire and got burnt, and I ate it: and when the farmer heard this he grew very angry. I think, therefore, the writing on the egg said that he who ate the heart of the bird should have many sequins.’

After this they spent the day pleasantly together; but the daughter put an emetic in his wine at supper, and so made him bring up the bird’s heart, which she kept forherself, and the next morning when he woke there was no box of sequins under his head. When he rose in the morning also the beautiful girl and her mother turned him out of the house, and he wandered forth again.

At last, being weary and full of sorrow, he sat down on the ground by the side of a stream crying. Immediately three fairies appeared to him and asked him why he wept. And when he told them, they said to him: ‘Weep no more, for instead of the bird’s heart we give you this sheepskin jacket, the pockets of which will always be full of sequins. How many soever you may take out they will always remain full.’ Then they disappeared; but he immediately went back to the house of the beautiful girl, taking her rich and fine presents; but she said to him, ‘How comes it that you, who had no money left when you went away, have now the means to buy all these fine presents?’ Then he told her of the gift of the three fairies, and they let him sleep in the house again, but the daughter called her maid to her and said: ‘Make a sheepskin jacket exactly like that in the stranger’s room.’ So she made one, and they put it in his room, and took away the one the fairies had given him, and in the morning they drove him from the house again. Then he went and sat down by the stream and wept again; but the fairies came and asked him why he wept; and he told them, saying, ‘Because they have driven me away from the house where I stayed, and I have no home to go to, and this jacket has no more sequins in the pockets.’ Then the fairies looked at the jacket, and they said, ‘This is not the jacket we gave you; it has been changed by fraud:’ so they gave him in place of it a wand, and they said, ‘With this wand strike the table, and whatever you may desire, be it meat or drink or clothes, or whatsoever you may want, it shall come upon the table.’ The next day he went back to the house of the woman and her daughter, and sat down without saying anything, but he struck the table with his wand,wishing for a great banquet, and immediately it was covered with the choicest dishes. There was no need to ask him questions this time, for they saw in what his gift consisted, and in the night, when he was asleep, they took his wand away. In the morning they drove him forth out of the house, and he went back to the stream and sat down to cry. Again the fairies appeared to him and comforted him; but they said, ‘This is the last time we may appear to you. Here is a ring; keep it on your hand; for if you lose this gift there is nothing more we may do for you;’ and they went away. But he immediately returned to the house of the woman and her beautiful daughter. They let him in, ‘Because,’ they said, ‘doubtless the fairies have given him some other gift of which we may take profit.’ And as he sat there he said, ‘All the other gifts of the fairies have I lost, but this one they have given me now I cannot lose, because it is a ring which fits my finger, and no one can take it from my hand.’

‘And of what use is your ring?’ asked the beautiful daughter.

‘Its use is that whatever I wish for while I have it on I obtain directly, whatever it may be.’

‘Then wish,’ said she, ‘that we may be both together on the top of that high mountain, and a sumptuousmerenda7spread out for us.’

‘To be sure!’ he replied, and he repeated her wish. Instantly they found themselves on the top of the high mountain with a plentifulmerendabefore them; but she had a vial of opium with her, and while his head was turned away she poured the opium into his wine. Presently after this he fell into a sound sleep, so sound that there was no fear of waking him. Immediately she took the ring from his finger and put it on her own; then she wished that she might be replaced at home and that he might be left on the top of the mountain. And so it was done.

In the morning when he woke and found himself all alone on the top of the high mountain and his ring gone, he wept bitter tears, and felt too weary to attempt the descent of the steep mountain side. For three days he remained here weary and weeping, and then, becoming faint from hunger, he took some of the herbs that grew on the mountain top for food. As soon as he had eaten these he was turned into a donkey,8but as he retained his human intelligence, he said to himself, this herb has its uses, and he filled one of the panniers on his back with it. Then he came down from the mountain, and when he was at the foot of it, being hungry with the long journey, he ate of the grass that grew there, and, behold! he was transformed back into his natural shape; so he filled the other basket with this kind of grass and went his way.

Having dressed himself like a street seller, he took the basket of the herb which had the property of changing the eater into a donkey, and stood under the window of the house where he had been so evil entreated, and cried, ‘Fine salad! fine salad! who will buy my fine salad?’9

‘What is there so specially good about your salad?’ asked the maid, looking out. ‘My young mistress is particularly fond of salad, so if yours is so very superfine, you had better come up.’

He did not wait to be twice told. As soon as he saw the beautiful daughter, he said, ‘This is fine salad, indeed, the finest of the fine, all fresh gathered, and the first of its kind that ever was sold.’

‘Very likely it’s the first of its kind that ever was sold,’ said she; ‘but I don’t like to buy things I haven’t tried; it may turn out not to be nice.’

‘Oh, try it, try it freely; don’t buy without trying;’ and he picked one of the freshest and crispest bunches.

She took one in her hand and bit a few blades, and no sooner had she done so than she too became a donkey. Then he put the panniers on her back and drove her allover the town, constantly cudgelling her till she sank under the blows. Then one who saw him belabour her thus, said, ‘This must not be; you must come and answer before the emperor for thus belabouring the poor brute;’ but he refused to go unless he took the donkey with him; so they went to the emperor and said, ‘Here is one who is belabouring his donkey till she has sunk under his blows, and he refuses to come before the emperor to answer his cruelty unless he bring his donkey with him.’ And the emperor made answer, ‘Let him bring the beast with him.’

So they brought him and his donkey before the emperor. When he found himself before the emperor he said, ‘All these must go away; to the emperor alone can I tell why I belabour my donkey.’ So the emperor commanded all the people to go to a distance while he took him and his donkey apart. As soon as he found himself alone with the emperor he said, ‘See, it is I, thy brother!’ and he embraced him. Then he told him all that had befallen him since they parted. Then said the emperor to the donkey, ‘Go now with him home, and show him where thou hast laid all the things—the bird’s heart, the sheepskin jacket, the wand, and the ring, that he may bring them hither; and if thou deliver them up faithfully I will command that he give thee of that grass to eat which shall give thee back thy natural form.’

So they went back to the house and fetched all the things, and the emperor said, ‘Come thou now and live with me, and give me of thy sequins, and I will share the empire with thee.’ Thus they reigned together.

But to the donkey they gave of the grass to eat, which restored her natural form, only that her beauty was marred by the cudgelling she had received. And she said, ‘Had I not been so wilful and malicious I had now been empress.’

[In these stories we have had the actions of threeFate, somewhat resembling English fairies; in the following, we meet with three who, as often happens in Roman stories, are nothing better than witches.]

1‘La Somara.’↑2The ‘mercante di Campagna’ occupies the place of farmer in thesocial system of Rome; that is, he produces and deals in grain and cattle; there is ‘buttaro’ (cattle breeder) besides; but the characteristics of each are so different that the one does not well translate the other.↑3‘Cortello’ for ‘coltello’ (a knife). The substitution ofrforlin a good many words is a common Romanism.↑4‘Dishperato’ for ‘disperato’ (‘out of himself with vexation’), is another Romanism; as also↑5‘Bashtonata’ for ‘bastonata’ (a cudgelling); at least many Romans, particularly old-fashioned people, when using some words in whichspandstoccur, put in anhon occasions requiring great vehemence of expression.↑6Zecchini. Thezecchinowas the gold standard coin in Rome before that of thescudowas adopted. Its value was fixed in the reign of Clement XIII., 1758, at two scudi and twenty bajocchi—something between 10s.and 11s.; it was current till a few years back; and ‘zecchini’ is a common way of saying ‘money’ when a large sum is spoken of, just as we still talk of guineas.↑7‘Merenda’ is a supplementary meal taken at any time of day. It is not exactly lunch, because the habit of taking lunch at one and dining late has not yet obtained to any great extent in Rome; and where it has, lunch is called ‘déjeûner’; breakfast (i.e. a cup of coffee and a roll early in the morning) is always called ‘colazione.’ The established custom of Rome is dinner (‘pranzo,’ or ‘desinare,’) at twelve, and supper (‘cena’) an hour or two after the Ave, varying, therefore, according to the time of year, from six or seven till nine or ten, and even later. ‘Merenda’ is a light meal between ‘pranzo’ and ‘cena’ of not altogether general use, and chiefly on occasions of driving outside the gates to spend the afternoon at a country villa or casino.↑8‘Soma’ is a burden; ‘somaro’ or ‘somura’ an ass used for carrying burdens. Thus in the next line it is spoken of as having panniers on as a matter of course.↑9‘Che bell’ insalatina; chi vuol insalatina; che bell’ insalatina!’ a common form of crying. ‘Che belle mela!’ ‘What fine apples!’ ‘Che belle persiche!’ or ‘What fine peaches!’ may be heard all the year round.↑

1‘La Somara.’↑

2The ‘mercante di Campagna’ occupies the place of farmer in thesocial system of Rome; that is, he produces and deals in grain and cattle; there is ‘buttaro’ (cattle breeder) besides; but the characteristics of each are so different that the one does not well translate the other.↑

3‘Cortello’ for ‘coltello’ (a knife). The substitution ofrforlin a good many words is a common Romanism.↑

4‘Dishperato’ for ‘disperato’ (‘out of himself with vexation’), is another Romanism; as also↑

5‘Bashtonata’ for ‘bastonata’ (a cudgelling); at least many Romans, particularly old-fashioned people, when using some words in whichspandstoccur, put in anhon occasions requiring great vehemence of expression.↑

6Zecchini. Thezecchinowas the gold standard coin in Rome before that of thescudowas adopted. Its value was fixed in the reign of Clement XIII., 1758, at two scudi and twenty bajocchi—something between 10s.and 11s.; it was current till a few years back; and ‘zecchini’ is a common way of saying ‘money’ when a large sum is spoken of, just as we still talk of guineas.↑

7‘Merenda’ is a supplementary meal taken at any time of day. It is not exactly lunch, because the habit of taking lunch at one and dining late has not yet obtained to any great extent in Rome; and where it has, lunch is called ‘déjeûner’; breakfast (i.e. a cup of coffee and a roll early in the morning) is always called ‘colazione.’ The established custom of Rome is dinner (‘pranzo,’ or ‘desinare,’) at twelve, and supper (‘cena’) an hour or two after the Ave, varying, therefore, according to the time of year, from six or seven till nine or ten, and even later. ‘Merenda’ is a light meal between ‘pranzo’ and ‘cena’ of not altogether general use, and chiefly on occasions of driving outside the gates to spend the afternoon at a country villa or casino.↑

8‘Soma’ is a burden; ‘somaro’ or ‘somura’ an ass used for carrying burdens. Thus in the next line it is spoken of as having panniers on as a matter of course.↑

9‘Che bell’ insalatina; chi vuol insalatina; che bell’ insalatina!’ a common form of crying. ‘Che belle mela!’ ‘What fine apples!’ ‘Che belle persiche!’ or ‘What fine peaches!’ may be heard all the year round.↑

Back to IndexNext