The Pentamerone, or The Story of Stories/The Flea
THE FLEA.
Resolutions taken without thought bring disasters without remedy. He who behaves like a fool, repents like a wise man; as happened to the King of High-Hill, who, through unexampled folly, committed an act of madness, putting in jeopardy both his daughter and his honour.
Once upon a time the King of High-Hill, being bitten by a flea, caught him by a wonderful feat of dexterity; and seeing how handsome and stately he was, he could not in conscience pass sentence on him upon the bed of his nail. So he put him into a bottle, and feeding him every day with the blood of his own arm, the little beast grew at such a rate, that at the end of seven months it was necessary to shift his quarters, for he was grown bigger than a sheep. When the king saw this, he had him flayed, and the skin dressed. Then he issued a proclamation, that whoever could tell to what animal this skin had belonged should have his daughter to wife.
As soon as this decree was made known, the people all flocked in crowds, and they came from the ends of the world to be present at the scrutiny, and to try their luck. One said that it belonged to an ape, another to a lynx, a third to a crocodile, and in short some gave it to one animal, and some to another; but they were all a hundred miles from the truth, and not one hit the nail on the head. At last there came to this anatomical trial an ogre, who was the most frightfully ugly being in the world, the very sight of whom would make the boldest man tremble and quake with fear. But no sooner had he come, and turned the skin round and smelt it, than he instantly guessed the truth, saying, "This skin belongs to the arch-rascal of the fleas!"
Now the king saw that the ogre had hit the apple; but, not to break his word, he ordered his daughter Porziella to be called. Porziella had a face like milk and blood, and was such a miracle of beauty that you could devour her with your eyes, she was so lovely. And the king said to her, My daughter, thou knowest the proclamation I have issued, and thou knowest who I am; in short, I cannot go back from my promise,— either a king or a beggar[1]. My word is given; I must keep it, though my heart should break. Who could ever have imagined that this prize would have fallen to an ogre? But since not a leaf shakes without the will of Heaven, we must believe that this marriage has been made first there above, and then here below. Have patience then, and if thou art a good and dutiful girl do not oppose thy father, for my heart tells me that thou wilt be happy, since treasures are often found inside a rough earthen jar."
When Porziella heard this sad resolution, her eyes grew dim, her face turned yellow, her lips fell, her legs trembled, and she was on the point of letting fly the falcon of her soul after the quail of grief. At last, bursting into tears, she said to her father, "What crime have I committed that I should be punished thus? How have I acted ill toward you, that I should be given up to this monster? O wretched Porziella, behold you are running like a weasel into the toad's throat of your own accord! like an unfortunate sheep you are the prey of a ravenous wolf! Is this, O father, the affection you bear your own blood? is this the love you show to her whom you used to call the joy of your soul? do you thus tear from your heart her who is a part of your blood? do you drive from your sight her who is the apple of your eye? O father, O cruel father! you surely are not born of human flesh; the sea-orks gave you blood, the wild-cats suckled you[2]. But why do I talk of beasts of the land and sea? for every animal loves its young; you alone loathe and hate your own offspring, you alone hold your daughter in abhorrence. Oh, better had it been if my mother had strangled me at my birth, if my cradle had been my deathbed, my nurse's breast a bottle of poison, my swaddling-clothes a halter, and the whistle they tied round my neck a millstone; since I have lived to see this evil day, to see myself caressed by the hand of a harpy, embraced by two bear's paws, and kissed by two boar's tusks."
Porziella was going on to say more, when the king, in a furious rage, exclaimed, "Stay your anger, for sugar is dear! fair and softly, for appearances deceive[3]! stop, stop, for the lees are running out; hold your tongue, you ill-mannered chatterbox! what I do is well done. Is it for a girl to teach her father forsooth? have done, I say, and don't drive the mustard up into my nose[4]; for if I lay these hands upon you, I'll not leave a whole bone in your skin, and will make you bite the dust. Prithee how long has a child, with the milk still upon her lips, dared to oppose my will? Quick then, I say! take his hand, and set off with him home this very instant; for I will not have that saucy, impudent face a minute longer in my sight."
Poor Porziella, seeing herself thus caught in the net, with the face of a person condemned to death, with the eye of one possessed, with the mouth of one who has taken an emetic[5], with the heart of a person whose head is lying between the axe and the block, took the hand of the ogre, who dragged her off, without any one accompanying them, to a wood, where the trees made a palace for the meadow, to prevent its being discovered by the sun, and the brooks murmured at having knocked against the stones in the dark, whilst the wild-beasts wandered where they liked without paying toll, and went safely through the thicket, whither no man ever came unless he had lost his way. Upon this spot, which was as black as an unswept chimney, and hideous as the face of hell, stood the ogre's house, ornamented and hung all round with the bones of men whom he had devoured. Think but for a moment, good Christians, on the trembling, the quivering, the horror and affright which the poor girl endured! depend upon it there did not remain a drop of blood in her body.
But all this was nothing at all in comparison with what was to come. Before dinner she had peas, and after dinner parched beans. Then the ogre went out to hunt, and returned home laden with the quarters of men whom he had killed, saying, "Now, wife, you cannot complain that I don't take good care of you; here's a fine store of eatables for you; take and make merry, and love me well, for the sky will fall before I let you want for food."
Poor Porziella was sick at this horrible sight, and turned her face away. But when the ogre saw this, he cried, "Ha! this is throwing sweetmeats before swine: no matter however; only have patience till tomorrow morning; for I have been invited to a wild-boar hunt, and will bring you home a couple of boars, and we'll make a grand feast with our kinsfolk, and celebrate our wedding." So saying, away he went into the forest.
Now as Porziella stood weeping at the window, it chanced that an old woman passed by, who, being famished with hunger, begged some refreshment of her. Ah, my good woman!" said Porziella, Heaven knows I am in the power of a devil, who brings me home nothing but quarters and pieces of men he has killed; indeed I know not how it is that I have the stomach even to look upon such odious things. I pass the most miserable life that ever a Christian soul led; and yet I am the daughter of a king, and have been reared on dainties[6], and passed my life in plenty." And so saying, she began to cry like a little girl who sees her bread and butter taken away from her.
The old woman's heart was softened at this sight, and she said to Porziella, "Be of good heart, my pretty girl; do not spoil your beauty with crying, for you have fallen in with luck; I can help you to both saddle and trappings. Listen now, I have seven sons, who, you see, are seven oaks, seven giants,—Mase, Nardo, Cola, Micco, Petrullo, Ascaddeo and Ceccone[7],—who have more virtues than rosemary, especially Mase; for every time he lays his ear to the ground, he hears all that is passing within thirty miles around: Nardo, every time he spits, makes a great sea of soap-suds: every time that Cola throws a bit of iron on the ground, he makes a field of sharp razors: Micco, every time he flings down a little stick, makes a tangled wood spring up: Petrullo, whenever he throws on the ground a drop of water, makes a terrific river: Ascaddeo, every time he flings a stone, causes a strong tower to spring up; and Ceccone shoots so straight with a cross-bow, that he can hit a hen's eye a mile off. Now with the help of my sons, who are all courteous and friendly, and who will all take compassion on your condition, I will contrive to free you from the claws of the ogre; for such a delicate morsel is not food for the huge throat of this monster."
"No time is better than now," replied Porziella; "for that evil shadow of a husband of mine is gone out, and will not return this evening, and we shall have time to slip off and run away."
"It cannot be this evening," replied the old woman; "for I live a long way off; but I promise you that tomorrow morning I and my sons will all come together and help you out of your trouble."
So saying the old woman departed, and Porziella went to rest with a light heart, and slept soundly all night. But as soon as the birds began to cry, "Long live the Sun!" lo and behold there was the old woman with her seven sons; and placing Porziella in the midst of them, they proceeded towards the city. But they had not gone above half a mile when Mase put his ear to the ground, and cried, "Hollo, have a care! here's the fox! The ogre is come home, and not finding his wife, he is hastening after us with his cap under his arm."
No sooner did Nardo hear this, than he spat upon the ground, and made a sea of soap; and when the Ogre came, and saw all the suds, he ran home, and fetching a sack of bran, he strewed it about, and worked away, treading it down with his feet, until at last he got over this obstacle, though with great difficulty.
But Mase put his ear once more to the ground, and exclaimed, "Look sharp, comrade! here he comes!" Thereupon Cola flung the piece of iron on the ground, and instantly a field of razors sprung up. When the ogre saw the path stopped, he ran home again, and clad himself in iron from head to foot, and then returned, and got over this peril.
Then Mase, again putting his ear to the ground, cried, "Up, up, to arms! to arms! for see here is the ogre coming at such a rate that he is actually flying." But Micco was ready with his little stick, and in an instant he caused a terrible wood to rise up, so thick that it was quite impenetrable. When the ogre came to this difficult pass, he laid hold of a Carrara knife that he wore at his side, and began to fell the poplars and oaks right and left, to tumble down the pine-trees and cornel-trees; insomuch that with four or five strokes he laid the whole forest on the ground, and got clear out of the maze.
Presently Mase, who kept his ears on the alert like a hare, again raised his voice and cried, "Now we must be off, for the ogre has put on wings, and see here he is at our heels!" As soon as Petrullo heard this, he took a sip of water from a little fountain that was spurting out of a stone basin, squirted it on the ground, and in the twinkling of an eye a large river rose up on the spot. When the ogre saw this new obstacle, and that he could not make holes as fast as they found bungs to stop them, he stripped himself stark naked, and swam across to the other side of the river with his clothes upon his head.
Mase, who put his ear to every chink, heard the ogre coming, and exclaimed, "Alas! matters go ill with us now; I already hear the clatter of the ogre's heels: Heaven help us! So let us be upon our guard, and prepare to meet this storm, or else we are done for."
"Never fear," said Ascaddeo, "I will soon settle this ugly ragamuffin." So saying he flung a pebble on the ground, and instantly up rose a tower, in which they all took refuge without delay and barred the door. But when the ogre came up, and saw that they had betaken themselves to a place of safety, he ran home, got a vine-dresser's ladder, and hied with it on his shoulder back to the tower.
Now Mase, who kept his ears hanging down, heard at a distance the approach of the ogre, and cried, "We are now at the butt-end of the candle of hope! Ceccone is our last resource, for the ogre is coming back in a terrible fury. Alas, how my heart beats, for I foresee an evil day!"
"You coward!" answered Ceccone; "let little Dominick alone[8], and I will hit him with a ball.
As Ceccone was speaking, the ogre came, planted his ladder, and began to climb up; but Ceccone, taking aim at him, shot out one of his eyes, and laid him at full length on the ground, like a pear dropped from the tree: then he went out of the tower, and cut off the ogre's head with the big knife he carried about him, just as if it had been new-made cheese[9]. Thereupon they took the head with great joy to the king, who rejoiced at recovering his daughter, for he had repented a hundred times having given her to an ogre. And not many days after, the king procured a handsome husband for Porziella, and he heaped riches on the seven sons and their mother, who had delivered his daughter from such a wretched life. Nor did he omit to call himself a thousand times to blame for his conduct to Porziella, and having out of mere caprice exposed her to such peril, without thinking what an error he commits who goes looking for wolf's eggs.
The auditors looked like statues, as they sat listening to the story of the Flea, and they declared one and all that King Stupid was an ass, to put in peril the welfare of his own flesh and blood, and the inheritance of his kingdom, for just nothing at all. When they had all shut their mouths again, Antonella opened hers, and began the following story.
- ↑ Scorza de chiupo—literally, 'piece of poplar-bark.'
- ↑ See Iliad, 16, 33, sqq. and Æneid, 4, 36S, sqq.
- ↑ Ca li brocchiere so de chiuppe—'for the shields are of poplar.'
- ↑ i. e. 'make me in a rage.'
- ↑ Chi ha pigliato lo Domene Agostino—a common expression.
- ↑ So cresciuta a pappalardiello—i. e. fed on bread and lard,—a dainty to the poor; thence the saying.
- ↑ Mase is Thomas—Nardo, Leonard—Cola, Nicholas—Micco, Dominick—Petrullo, Peter—Ascaddeo, Thadeus—Ceccone, Frank.
- ↑ Lassa fare a Menechiello—a common saying for 'Trust to me.' Menechiello is the diminutive of Domenico; the expression originated with a person of that name in Naples who pretended to know everything.
- ↑ Caso-recotta—see Keightley's Notes on Virgil, p. 341.