The Pentamerone, or The Story of Stories/The Merchant
THE MERCHANT.
Troubles are usually the brooms and shovels that smooth the road to a man's good fortune, of which he little dreams; and many a man curses the rain that falls upon his head, and knows not that it brings abundance to drive away hunger; as is seen in the person of a young man, of whom I will tell you.
It is said that there was once a very rich merchant named Antoniello, who had two sons, Cienzo and Meo, so alike that there was no telling the one from the other. It happened that Cienzo, the elder brother, was one day playing at throwing stones on the seashore with the son of the king of Naples, and by chance broke his companion's head. Whereat Antoniello flew into a rage, and said to him, "Bravo! here's a pretty piece of work indeed! write to your friends and boast of what you have done! you have broken what was worth a groat—you have broken the head of the king's son, and never counted the cost, you blockhead! What will become of you now? You have cooked a pretty mess indeed! I would not give a farthing for your chance of escaping out of the king's hands if you stay here; for he has long arms, you know, that reach into every hole and corner, and I warrant he'll make the room too hot to hold you."
After his father had repeated this over and over again, Cienzo answered, "Sir, I have always heard say, that better is the law-court than the doctor in one's house. Would it not have been worse if he had broken my head? It was he who began, and provoked me; we are but boys, and there are two sides to the quarrel. After all, 'tis a first fault, and the king is a man of reason; but let the worst come to the worst, what great harm can he do me? Let him who will not give me the mother, give me the daughter—let him who will not send me cooked meat, send me raw; the wide world is one's home, and let him who is afraid, turn constable."
"What can he do to you indeed!" replied Antoniello; "he can drive you out of the world,—send you for a change of air; he can make you a schoolmaster, with a ferule four-and-twenty feet long, to thrash the fishes[1] and teach them to speak; he can send you off with a soaped collar three feet long, to make merry with the widow[2]; and, instead of taking the maiden's hand, make you touch the confessor's foot. Therefore don't stand here at the risk of your life[3], but march off this very instant, so that nobody may hear a word either new or old of what you have done, and you may not be kept here by the foot. A bird in the bush is better than a bird in the cage. Here is money—take one of the two enchanted horses which I have in the stable, and a dog which is also enchanted, and tarry no longer here: better to scamper off and use your own heels, than to be touched by another's; better to throw your legs over your back, than to carry your head between two legs[4]; better to run a thousand feet, than to stay here with three feet of rope; if you don't take your knapsack and be off, neither Baldo nor Bartolo[5] will help you."
Then, begging his father's blessing, Cienzo mounted his horse, and tucking the little dog under his arm, he went his way out of the city. But turning his head round when he had passed through the Capuan gate, he fell to exclaiming, "Farewell, for I must leave thee, my beautiful Naples! who knows whether I shall ever see thee again? Ye bricks of sugar-candy, ye walls of sweetmeats! where the stones are of manna, the rafters of sugar-cane, the doors and windows of wafer-cakes! Alas! as I leave thee, lovely Pennino[6], I seem to be going to the gallows[7]; as I tear myself from thee, O Chiazza-Larga, my breath grows short; in parting from thee, O Lanziere, I seem pierced by a Catalan lance; Where shall I find another Puorto, thou port of all the riches of the world? where another Loggia, in which plenty abides and pleasure is lodged? Alas, as I tear myself from thee, my Lavinaro, a stream of lava flows from these eyes! I cannot leave thee, O Mercato, without purchasing a store of grief! Adieu, ye carrots and juicy cabbages[8]! adieu, pancakes and puddings! adieu, ye broccoli and pickled tunnies! adieu, ye salt-fish and salads! adieu, cakes and tartlets! adieu, thou flower of cities, glory of Italy, painted egg[9] of Europe, thou mirror of the world! Farewell, Naples, thou spot where virtue has set her limits and grace her boundary! I depart, and leave for ever the soups and pottage[10]; I fly from this beautiful village[11]—ye dear cabbage-stalks, I leave you!"
So saying, and making a winter of tears with a summer of sighs, he went his way, and travelled on and on, until the first evening he came to a wood in that part of Cascano which kept the mule of the Sun outside its limits, whilst it was amusing itself with Silence and the Shades. There stood an old house at the foot of a tower; and Cienzo knocked at the door of the tower; but the master being in fear of robbers, as it was already night, would not open the door; so that poor Cienzo was obliged to remain in the ruined old house; and turning his horse out to graze in a meadow, he threw himself on some straw which he found there, with the dog at his side. But scarcely had he closed his eyes, when, awakened by the barking of the dog, he heard footsteps stirring in the old house. Cienzo, who was bold and venturous, seized his sword and began to lay about him in the dark; but perceiving that he hit no one, and that he only struck at the wind, he turned round again and stretched himself out. But after a few minutes, feeling himself pulled gently by the foot, he turned to lay hold of his cutlass, and jumped up again, exclaiming, "Hollo there! you are getting too troublesome; but leave off this sport, and let's have a bout of it, if you have any pluck, for you have found the last to your shoe."
At these words he heard a shout of laughter, and then a hollow voice saying, "Come down here, and I will tell you who I am." Then Cienzo, without losing courage, answered, "Wait awhile, I'll come." So he groped about, until at last he found a ladder, which led to a cellar; and going down, he saw a lighted lamp, and three ghost-looking figures, who were making a piteous clamoiur, crying, "Alas, my beauteous treasure, I must lose thee!"
When Cienzo saw this, he began himself to cry and lament for company sake; and after he had wept for some time, the Moon having now with the axe of her rays broken the bar of the Sky, the three figures who were making the outcry said to Cienzo, "Take this treasure, which is destined for thee alone, but mind that you take care of it." And so saying they vanished, like one who has never appeared. Then Cienzo, espying the sunlight through a hole in the wall, wished to climb up again, but he could not find the ladder; whereat he set up such a cry, that the master of the tower, who had come to hunt for something in the old house, heard him, and asked him what he was about; and when he was told what had passed, he fetched a ladder, and going down discovered a great treasure. Then he wished to give a part of it to Cienzo, but Cienzo would not have any; and taking the dog, and mounting his horse, he set out again upon his travels.
After a while he arrived at a wild and dreary forest, so dark that it made you shudder. There, upon the bank of a river, which, to please the shades of which it was enamoured, was winding about in the meadows like a snake, and leaping over the stones, he found a fairy, surrounded by a band of robbers. Cienzo, perceiving the wicked intention of these rogues, seized his sword and soon made a slaughter of them. Then the fairy, who saw that this deed was done for her sake, showered on him thanks, and invited him to a palace not far distant, that she might make a return for the service he had done her. But Cienzo replied, "It is a mere nothing at all—thank you kindly—another time I will accept the favour, but now I am in haste, on business of importance."
So saying he took his leave; and travelling on a long way, he came at last to the palace of a king, which was all hung with mourning, so that it made one's heart grow black to look at it. Then Cienzo inquired the cause of the mourning, and the folks answered, "A dragon with seven heads has made his appearance in this country, the most terrible monster that ever was seen in the world, with the crest of a cock, the head of a cat, eyes of fire, the mouth of a bulldog, the wings of a bat, the claws of a bear, and the tail of a serpent. Now this dragon swallows a Christian every day, and so it has gone on up to the present time, until at last the lot has fallen upon Menechella, the daughter of the king; on which account there is a great weeping and wailing in the royal palace, since the fairest creature in all the land is doomed to be devoured and swallowed by this horrid beast,"
When Cienzo heard this he stepped aside, and saw Menechella pass by with the mourning train, accompanied by the ladies of the court and all the women of the land, wringing their hands, and tearing out their hair by handfuls, and bewailing the sad fate of the poor girl, saying, "Who would have imagined that this unhappy maiden should make a cession of the wealth of life in the body of this brute beast? who could have thought that this beautiful goldfinch should have the belly of a dragon for a cage? who could have foretold that such a beauteous little angel should be doomed to end her life in this dark cavern?"
As they were exclaiming thus, behold the dragon came out of a cave. O mother of mine, what a horrid sight! the sun hid himself in terror within the clouds; the sky grew darkened, the hearts of beholders shrivelled up like a mummy, and all the folks trembled and shook like an aspen-leaf. Then Cienzo, who saw all this, laid hold on his sword, and slapdash struck off a head in a trice. But the dragon went and rubbed his neck on a certain plant which grew not far off, and suddenly the head joined itself on again, like a lizard joining itself to its tail. When Cienzo saw this he exclaimed, "He who dares not, wins not;" and setting his teeth, he struck such a furious blow that he cut off all seven heads, which flew from the necks like peas from the pan. Whereupon he took out the tongues, and putting them in his pocket, he flung the heads a mile apart from the body, so that they might never come together again. Then he took a handful of the plant which had united the dragon's neck with the head, sent Menechella home to her father, and went himself to repose in a tavern.
When the king saw his daughter, his delight is not to be told; and having heard the manner in which she had been freed, he ordered a proclamation to be instantly made, that whosoever had killed the dragon should come and take his daughter to wife. Now a rascal of a country-fellow happening to hear this proclamation, took the heads of the dragon, went to the king, and said, "Menechella has been saved by me; these hands have freed the land from destruction; behold the dragon's heads, which are the proofs of my valour; therefore recollect, every promise is a debt." As soon as the king heard this, he lifted the crown from his own head and set it upon the countryman's poll, who looked just like a thief on the gallows[12].
The news of this proclamation flew through the whole country, till at last it came to the ears of Cienzo, who said to himself, "Verily I am a great blockhead! I had hold of Fortune by the forelock, and I let her escape out of my hand: here's a man who offers to give me the half of a treasure he finds, and I care no more for it than a German for cold water; the fairy wishes to entertain me in her palace, and I care for it as little as the ass for music; and now that I am called to the crown, here I stand, like a tipsy woman with her spindle, and allow a hairy-footed bumpkin to pass me by, and let a rascally thief cheat me out of my trump-card." So saying he took an inkstand, seized a pen, and spreading out a sheet of paper, began to write:—
"To the most beautiful jewel of women, Menechella, the Infanta of Lost-Wits.—Having by the favour of Sol in Leo saved thy life, I hear that another plumes himself with my labours, that another claims the reward of the service which I have rendered. Thou therefore, who wast present at the dragon's death, canst assure the king of the truth, and prevent his allowing another to gain this sinecure, whilst I have had all the toil; for it will be the right effect of thy fair royal grace, and the merited reward of this strong Scanderbeg's fist[13]. In conclusion, I kiss thy delicate little hands.—From the Flowerpot Inn, this day, Sunday."
Having written this letter, and sealed it with a wafer, he placed it in the dog's mouth, saying, Run off as fast as you can, and take this to the king's daughter; give it to no one else, but place it in the hand of that silver-faced maiden herself."
Away ran the dog to the palace as if he were flying, and going up the stairs he found the king, who was still paying compliments to the country clown. When the man saw the dog with the letter in his mouth, he ordered it to be taken from him; but the dog would not give it to any one, and bounding up to Menechella he placed it in her hand. Then Menechella rose from her seat, and making a curtsey to the king, she gave him the letter to read; and when the king had read it, he ordered that the dog should be followed, to see where he went, and that his master should be brought before him. So two of the courtiers immediately followed the dog, until they came to the tavern, where they found Cienzo; and delivering the message from the king, they conducted him to the palace, into the presence of the king, who asked him how it happened that he boasted of having killed the dragon, since the heads were brought by the man who was sitting crowned at his side. And Cienzo answered, "That fellow deserves a pasteboard mitre[14] rather than a crown, since he has had the impudence to tell you a bouncing lie[15]. But to prove to you that I have done the deed, and not this rascal, order the heads to be produced, for none of them can speak to the proof without a tongue, and these I have brought with me as witnesses to convince you of the truth."
So saying he pulled the tongues out of his pocket, while the countryman was struck all of a heap, not knowing what would be the end of it; and the more so when Menechella added, "This is the man! Ah you dog of a countryman, a pretty trick you have played me!" When the king heard this, he took the crown from the head of that false loon, and placed it on Cienzo's; and he was on the point of sending the fellow to the galleys, but Cienzo begged the king to have mercy on him, and to confound his wickedness with courtesy. Then the tables were spread, and there was a royal banquet; which being ended, they went to rest in a splendid bed.
When morning came, and the Sun, brandishing the two-handed sword of the Light in the midst of the Stars, cries, "Back, you rabble!" Cienzo, standing at the window, saw at a house opposite a fair young girl; and turning round to Menechella, he said, "What beautiful creature is that standing in yon window opposite?"—"What does that matter to you?" answered his wife: "what are you staring at? what fancy have you got in your head now?" Upon this Cienzo hung his head, like a cat that has been up to some mischief, and said nothing; but making a pretence of going out on an affair of business, he left the palace, and went to the house of the maiden opposite, who was verily an exquisite morsel; you might fancy yourself looking at a delicate junket, a sugar pasty; she never turned the buttons[16] of her eyes, but she made an amorous blister on all hearts; she never opened the saucepan of her lips, but she poured scalding water upon souls; she never moved a foot, but she pressed down the shoulders of him who hung suspended by the cord of hope[17]. But beside all these bewitching charms, she possessed a magic power, by which, whenever she wished it, she spellbound and chained men with her hair, as she now did Cienzo, who had no sooner set foot in the house than he was instantly held fast like a colt with a clog to its foot.
Meanwhile Meo, the younger brother, hearing no tidings of Cienzo, took it into his head to go in search of him: so he asked leave of his father, who gave him another horse and another enchanted dog. Then Meo set out, and travelled on and on, till in the evening he came to the very tower where Cienzo had been; and the master of it, thinking it was Cienzo, received him with the greatest affection in the world, and offered him money, but Meo would not accept it. When Meo saw all the kindness and attention shown him, it occurred to him that his brother must have been there, and this gave him hope of finding him. So as soon as the Moon, the enemy of poets, turned her back upon the Sun, Meo set out again, and travelled on until he came to the palace of the fairy, who, thinking it was Cienzo, received him with the utmost kindness, saying again and again, "Welcome, dear youth, who saved my life!" Meo thanked her for her kindness, but said, Excuse my not staying longer now, as I am in haste. Adieu, till we meet again on my return!" Away went Meo, rejoicing in his heart at finding traces of his brother wherever he went; and he journeyed on and on, until in the morning he arrived at the king's palace, just at the moment when Cienzo was bewitched by the fairy's hair. Then Meo went into the palace, and was received by the servants with great honour; and the young maiden embraced him affectionately and said, "Welcome back, my husband! the morning passes, the evening comes, when every bird returns to seek its nest. Where hast thou been all this while, my Cienzo? how couldst thou remain away from Menechella? thou hast taken me out of the dragon's jaws, and now thrustest me into the throat of jealousy, since thou dost not keep me ever before the mirror of thine eyes."
Meo, who was a clever fellow, instantly thought to himself that this must be his brother's wife; and turning to Menechella, he excused his absence, wishing not to undeceive her, and embracing her they went to dinner. But when the Moon, like a brood-hen, calls together the Stars to pick up the dewdrops, they all retired to rest; and Meo, pretending to be unwell, begged to sleep in a room alone.
The next morning, when the Night being pursued by the Sun, the Twilight gives her time to collect her bundles and be off, Meo, who was standing at the window, beheld the same maiden who had entrapped Cienzo; and being much pleased with her, he said to Menechella, "Who is that hussy standing at yon window?" And Menechella in a great rage replied, "So so, if matters stand thus, I know where I am: yesterday you teased me about that ugly face, and I fear that the tongue goes in truth to the aching tooth. You ought however to pay me some respect, for at all events I am the daughter of a king, and every clod of dirt has its use; but if I find you out, take care lest I act like a mad person, and make the chips fly through the air."
Meo, who had eaten bread from more than one oven, soothed her with soft words, and said and swore that he would not exchange his wife for the most beautiful creature in the world, and that she was the very core of his heart; until Menechella, reconciled at length by these words, went into a closet, to have the waiting-maids pass the glass over her face[18], braid her hair, dye her eyebrows, and in short adorn her, so that she might appear still more beautiful to her supposed husband.
In the meanwhile Meo, who began to suspect from what had fallen from Menechella that Cienzo was staying at the house of that maiden, took the little dog, and leaving the palace went to her house; and hardly had he entered the door when she exclaimed, "Hairs of mine, bind this man!" But Meo lost no time, and instantly cried, "Quick, little dog, eat up this woman!" Whereupon the dog flew at her and swallowed her down like the yolk of an egg. Then Meo went further into the house, and there he found his brother seemingly enchanted; but laying two of the dog's hairs upon him, Cienzo appeared to awake as if from a deep sleep. Then Meo told his brother all that had happened to him on his travels, and lastly at the palace; and he was going on to tell him of Mencehella, and how she had mistaken him, when Cienzo in a sudden fit of jealousy snatched up an old sword, and cut off his brother's head like a cucumber.
Hearing the rout the king and his daughter both came out; and when Mcnechclla saw that Cienzo had slain a man exactly like himself, she asked him the cause. And Cienzo said to her, "Ask yourself, you unfaithful woman; it is all through your fault that I have killed him."—"Alas!" said Menechella, how many are slain wrongfully! a brave deed truly you have done!" And then she told him how innocent and discreet his brother had been.
When Cienzo heard this, he repented bitterly the error he had committed in his sudden passion (the son of a hasty judgement and the father of stupidity) and he tore his hair with grief. But suddenly recollecting the plant which the dragon had shown him, he rubbed it upon his brother's neck, which instantly drew close and joined on to the head, so that Meo became sound and well again. Then Cienzo embraced his brother joyfully, begging him to pardon his hasty passion, and the wrong he had done in sending him out of the world without first hearing the affair to the end. Whereupon they all went in a coach to the palace, whither they sent to invite Antoniello, together with all his family; and Antoniello soon got into great favour with the king, and saw in the person of his son the saying verified—
"A straight port to a crooked ship[19]."
As soon as Ciulla had ended her story, which was as sweet as sugar, Paola, whose turn it was to take up the dance, began as follows.
- ↑ A ffare cavalle a li pisce.
- ↑ Death is often called by the Neapolitans la Vedola.
- ↑ Co lo cuojero a ppesone fra lo panno e l'azzimatore. Literally, 'with your skin between the cloth and the press.'
- ↑ See note, p. 87.
- ↑ Two celebrated lawyers: Baldo was a friend of Petrarch; Bartolo was a pupil of Cino da Pistoja.
- ↑ This and the following names are those of squares and streets in Naples. I have omitted a few, in which the play upon the words could not be translated.
- ↑ Ire co lo pennone. The pennone (literally 'standard') came to be applied in Naples only to the flag borne by the hangman, who headed the procession to an execution.
- ↑ The Neapolitans had such a passion for cabbages at the time this was written, that they got the name of 'Mangia foglia.' Hence the lines—
"Pecchè Napole mio, dica chi voglia.
Non si Napole cchiù si non haie foglia." - ↑ See above, note at p. 16.
- ↑ Mme parto pe stare sempe ridolo de le ppignate mmaretate. A famous soup in Naples is called pignata maritata: the point is of course lost in translation.
- ↑ Casale. Naples is often called by the inhabitants 'lo Casalone,' as a term of endearment.
- ↑ Alluding to the crown, or mitera, placed upon the head of criminals when hung. The same custom was in some countries practised with persons going to be burnt by the Holy Office.
- ↑ Scanderbeg was a famous Albanian hero, in the fifteenth century, who withstood the whole power of Turkey.
- ↑ That is, to be hung: see Note, p. 83.
- ↑ Darete a rentennere vesiche pe Uanterne,—a common expression.
- ↑ Alluding to the manner of forming a fontanel in Italy with a small heated iron ball or button.
- ↑ The hangman sat on the shoulders of a person executed, to hasten his death.
- ↑ An old practice, to polish the skin.
- ↑ 'More by luck than wit.'