The Tale of Tales

by Giambattista Basile

  “These and other words were coming out from under the Turkish arches of those lips to pierce Cecio’s soul, when he said to her, ‘Quiet, O lovely support of my life,5 O bright lantern of these eyes, O curative hyacinth6 of this heart. I will soon be back, and the miles of distance cannot separate me one span from this lovely body, nor can the force of time knock the memory of you from this noggin! Calm down, rest that head, dry those eyes, and keep me in your heart!’ And as he said this he got on his horse and began to gallop toward his kingdom.

  “Renza, who saw herself ditched like a cucumber seed, set out to follow Cecio’s tracks, and after untying a horse that she found grazing in the middle of a field, she raced off on his trail. When she encountered a hermit’s errand boy she got off her horse and gave him her clothes, which were all trimmed with gold, and had him give her the sack and cord that he was wearing. She put it over her head and tied it with the rope—she who tied up souls with the lasso of Love—and then got back on her horse, spurring the animal so hard that in a short time she reached Cecio, and said to him, ‘Good to see you, my dear gentleman!’ And Cecio answered her, ‘Welcome, my little monk! Where are you coming from? And where are you headed?’ And Renza answered,

  I come from a place where there is

  A woman ever in tears, who cries, “O white face,

  Alas, who has taken you from my side?”

  When he heard this, Cecio said to what he thought was a boy, ‘O my lovely young man, how dear your company is to me! Do me a favor and take the pupils of my eyes. Never leave my side, and every now and then repeat those verses, which really tickle my heart!’

  “And so, cooling themselves with the fan of chatter7 to relieve themselves from the heat of the road, they arrived at Wide Vineyard, where they found that the queen had arranged a marriage for Cecio, having sent for him with a ruse, and that the bride was ready and waiting. When Cecio arrived, he begged his mother to keep the boy who had accompanied him in their house and to treat him as if he were a brother of his, and since his mother was happy with this she made sure the boy was always at his side and ate at the table where he and his bride sat.

  “Now consider how poor Renza’s heart felt, and whether she was able to swallow this nux vomica!8 Nonetheless, every now and then she repeated the verses that Cecio liked so much. But when the tables had been cleared and the newlyweds retired to a little room so that they could talk in private, the field was open for Renza to pour out her heart’s passion in solitude. She went into a garden outside the hall and retired under a mulberry tree, where she began to lament in this manner, ‘Alas, cruel Cecio, is this your thousand thanks for the love I bear you? Is this the deposit on the fondness I feel for you? Is this the reward for the affection I show you? There you have it: I dumped my father, left my home, trampled on my honor, and let myself fall under the power of a rabid dog, and all so that I can see my steps stayed, the door slammed in my face, and the bridge raised, and just when I believed I would take possession of this lovely fortress! So that I can see myself put on the tax list of your ingratitude, when I thought I would live quietly at the Duchesca9 of your graces! So that I can see myself made to play Master Iommiento Proclaims and Orders, when I imagined I’d be playing Anca Nicola10 with you! I sowed hope, and now I’m harvesting bits of cheese!11 I threw out nets of desire, and now I’m pulling in sands of ingratitude! I built castles in the air, and now my body is knocked—boom!—to the ground! So this is what I get in exchange! This is the trade-off I’m given! This is the payment I’ve gotten out of all this! I lowered the bucket into the well of amorous longing and I’m left with the handle in my hand; I hung out the laundry of my plans and out of the blue it started to rain; I put the pot of my thoughts on the fire of desire and the soot of disgrace fell in! But who would have thought, you turncoat, that your words12 would reveal themselves to be copper? That the barrel of your promises would be drained to its dregs? That the bread of your goodness would turn moldy? Nice manners for a respectable man, nice example for an honorable person, nice habits for a king’s son to have! You tricked me, you hoodwinked me, you gave me a stomachache, you cut me a wide cape only to leave me with a jacket that’s too short, you promised me the sea and the mountains only to hurl me into a ditch, you washed my face clean only to leave me with a black heart! O promises of wind! O words of bran! O oaths of sautéed spleen!13 There you have it: I said “four” before it was in the bag;14 I’m a hundred miles away when I thought I’d reached the baron’s house! It seems quite clear that evening words are carried off by the wind! Alas, I thought I’d be flesh and blood with this cruel man, but we’ll be like cat and dog; I imagined I’d be bowl and spoon with this rabid mutt, but we’ll be like snake and toad, since I can’t bear that with a fifty-five of good fortune someone else will take the winning primero of hopes from my hand,15 and I can’t stand that I’ll be checkmated! O misguided Renza, see what trust brings you, see what happens when you let men’s words impregnate you! Men without law, without faith; poor is the woman who mixes with them, sorry is the woman who grows attached to them, wretched is the woman who gets into the wide bed they’re in the habit of preparing for you! But not to worry: you know that he who tricks children dies like a cricket; you know that in the bank of the heavens there are no swindling clerks to fiddle with the papers!16 And when you least expect it your day will come! You worked this sleight of hand on one who gave herself to you on credit, only to receive this bad service in cash! But don’t I realize that I’m telling my reasons to the wind, that I’m sighing into the void? I’m sighing at a net loss; I’m lamenting to myself! This evening he’ll settle his accounts with the bride and collect his ransom, while I balance my accounts with Death and pay my debt to Nature; he’ll lie in a white bed that smells of fresh laundry, and I’ll be in a dark coffin that stinks of the freshly killed; he’ll play Empty the Barrel with that good-luck bride, while I do I’m Wounded, My Friend17 and pierce my loins with a pointed stick to prove my mastery over life!’

  “After these and other words spoken in rage, it was by then time for everyone to get their teeth moving, and Renza was called to the table, where the gratins and the stews were arsenic and euphorbia to her, since she had other things in her head than the desire to eat, and other things in her stomach than an appetite for filling it. When Cecio saw her so lost in thought and downhearted he said to her, ‘What does it mean that you’re not doing honor to these dishes? What’s the matter? What are you thinking? How do you feel?’ ‘I don’t feel at all well,’ answered Renza, ‘nor do I know whether it’s indigestion or vertigo.’ ‘You’re right to skip a meal,’ replied Cecio, ‘for a diet is the best tobacco18 for every ill. But if you need a physician we can send for the urine doctor,19 who can recognize people’s illnesses by merely looking at their face, without even taking a pulse.’ ‘This is not an ailment that can be cured by prescription,’ answered Renza, ‘for no one knows the troubles of the pot like the serving spoon.’ ‘Go out for a bit and get some air,’ said Cecio. And Renza: ‘The more I see, the more my heart breaks.’

  “As they continued talking, the eating came to an end and it was time to go to sleep. Cecio wanted Renza to sleep on a sofa in the same room where he was going to sleep with the bride, so that he could always hear her song, and every now and then he called her over and had her repeat the usual words, which were daggers in Renza’s heart and a headache for the bride, who, after sitting there for a while, finally burst out, ‘You’ve broken my ass with this white face! What kind of dark music is this? It’s been going on for so long now that it’s nothing short of diarrhea! That’s enough, for heaven’s sake! What, are your brains falling out, so that you repeat the same thing over and over again? I thought I was getting into bed with you to hear the music of instruments, not a lament for voices, but just look how you stoop down and always play the same note! By your good graces, no more of this, my husband. And you shut up, since you stink of garlic, and let us rest a little!’ ‘Be
quiet, my wife,’ answered Cecio, ‘we’re going to break the thread of our talk now!’ And saying this, he gave her a kiss so loud you could hear it a mile away. The sound of their lips was thunder in Renza’s breast, and she felt such pain that when all of her spirits raced to aid her heart it happened just as the proverb says—‘Too much breaks the lid’—for the rush of blood was such and so much that it suffocated her, and she stretched out her feet for the last time.

  “After Cecio had given the bride four little pats he called Renza under his breath, so that she would repeat those words that he liked so much. Not hearing her answer as he wished, he started begging her again to do him this little favor, but when he saw that she was not saying a word he got up very quietly and pulled her by the arm. When she didn’t respond even then, he put his hand on her face, and when he touched her freezing nose he realized that the fire of that body’s natural heat had gone out.

  “This dismayed and terrified him, and he had candles brought in; Renza was uncovered, and he recognized her by a lovely mole she had in the middle of her chest. His shrieks rising to the sky, he began to cry, ‘What do you see, O wretched Cecio? What has happened to you, unlucky one? What sort of spectacle is before your eyes? What sort of ruin falls on your joints? O my flower, who has picked you? O my lantern, who has put you out? O pot of Love’s delights, how did you overflow? Who has demolished you, O lovely house of my joys? Who has torn you up, O permit of all my pleasures? Who has sunk you, O lovely ship of the pastimes of this heart? O my darling, when those beautiful eyes closed, the shop of beauty went bankrupt, the business of the Graces came to a halt, and Love went to throw bones off the bridge.20 With the departure of this beautiful soul the seed of all beautiful women has been lost and the mold of all charming women broken, nor will the compass for the sea of amorous sweetness ever be found again! O damage without repair, O agony without comparison, O ruin without measure! Go flex your muscles, my dear mother, for you’ve been quite successful at strangling me until I lost this lovely treasure! What will I do, hapless, devoid of every pleasure, cleaned out of every consolation, lightened of every joy, deprived of every satisfaction, stripped of every amusement, emptied of all happiness? Do not believe, O dear heart, that I intend to continue weighing on this world without you, for I intend to follow you and lay siege to wherever you may go. And in spite of Death’s grip we will be united; if I took you on to do service as a bedside companion, now I will be your partner in the grave, and one and the same epitaph will tell of the misfortunes of us both!’

  “As he said this he took hold of a nail and gave himself a devigorating treatment under his left tittie, and his life gushed out all at once, leaving his bride cold and freezing. As soon as she was able to untie her tongue and unleash her voice she called the queen, who at all the noise came running with the whole court. And when she saw the dismal end of her son and Renza and heard the reason for this disaster, she left not a lock of hair on her noodle, and, heaving herself this way and that like a fish out of water, she accused the cruel stars that had caused so much ill luck to rain down on her house and cursed her sad old age that had preserved her for so much ruin. And after she screamed, knocked herself around, pulled her hair out, and moaned and groaned, she had the two of them thrown into a ditch and atop it written the whole bitter story of their fortune.

  “At that same time Renza’s father, the king, arrived. While roaming the world in search of his runaway daughter, he had encountered the hermit’s servant selling Renza’s clothes; he had told the king what had happened and how Renza was following the king of Wide Vineyard. And the king got there at the very moment when Death had finished harvesting the spikes of their years and they were about to be buried in the ditch.21 He saw her and recognized her and cried for her and sighed for her, and then cursed the bone that had fattened up the soup of his ruin, for he had found it in his daughter’s room and recognized it as the instrument of her bitter tragedy. And this abomination thus verified for him, in general and in particular, the gloomy omen of those mountebanks who had said that she would die from a big bone, in clear demonstration of the fact that when calamity intends to strike, it enters through the cracks in the door.”

  4

  SAPIA LICCARDA*

  Fourth Entertainment of the Third Day

  Through her ingenuity Sapia remains virtuous during the absence of her father, in spite of the bad example set by her sisters. She plays a trick on her suitor, and when she foresees the danger she is in she manages to protect herself, and at the end the king’s son takes her for his wife.

  All of the pleasure of the past tales was muddied by the miserable story of those poor lovers, and for a good while everyone looked like a baby girl had just been born. When the king saw this, he told Tolla to tell something pleasant in order to temper the affliction felt at the death of Renza and Cecio. Upon receiving this command Tolla let herself loose in the manner that follows: “In the night of the world’s woes the good judgment of men is a shining lantern that allows ditches to be jumped without danger and treacherous passages to be crossed without fear. It is thus much better to have brains than coins, since the latter come and go, whereas you can spend the former whenever you need to. You will see a great example of this in the character of Sapia Liccarda, who with the steady north wind of her good judgment sails from a vast gulf only to land at a safe port.

  “There once was a very rich merchant named Marcone, who had three beautiful daughters: Bella, Cenzolla, and Sapia Liccarda. One day he had to leave town on some business, and knowing well that the two older daughters were window-mounting mares, he nailed shut all the windows and left them each a ring set with certain stones that became spotted all over if whoever wore it on her finger performed shameful acts. And then he left.

  “But no sooner was he away from Open Villa, which was the name of the town, than the two daughters began to scale the windows and peek out from behind the shutters, even if Sapia Liccarda, who was the youngest, was beside herself and shouted that their house was neither the Gelsi nor the Duchesca nor the Cetrangelo warehouse nor Pisciaturo,1 and that they shouldn’t be joking and flirting with the neighbors.

  “In front of their house stood the palace of the king, who had three sons: Ceccariello, Grazullo, and Tore. Once they caught sight of those good-looking young ladies, they began to wink at them, and then from winks they progressed to blown kisses, from blown kisses to words, from words to promises, and from promises to actions, until they made a date for one evening—when the Sun retired with its earnings so as not to compete with the Night2—and all three of them climbed up the side of the sisters’ house. The two older brothers came to an agreement with the older sisters, but when Tore tried to get his hands on Sapia Liccarda she slithered away like an eel into another room, barricading herself so that it was impossible to get the door open. And the poor little boy was thus forced to count his brothers’ morsels, and while the two of them loaded the sacks for the mill he had to hold the mule. But then morning came—when the birds, trumpeters of the Dawn, played ‘Everyone on their horses!’ to get the hours of the day into their saddles—and they left, the first two full of happiness over the pleasure they had received and the other one full of gloom over the awful night he had spent. And before long the two sisters were pregnant.

  “An unpleasant pregnancy it was, though, with all that Sapia Liccarda had to say to them, for just as they swelled up from one day to the next, she blew up at them from one hour to the next, always concluding that their lizard’s bellies3 would bring them war and ruin and that, as soon as their father came back from his travels, there would be some fine sheep dancing.

  “In the meantime, Tore’s desire grew, in part because of Sapia Liccarda’s beauty and in part because it seemed to him that he had received an affront and been tricked. And so he plotted with the older sisters to get her to fall into a trap when she least expected it, arranging for them to induce her to go and look for him in his own house.
And so one day they called Sapia and said to her, ‘My sister, what’s done is done; if you had to pay for advice it would either cost more or be more respected. If we had listened to you properly we wouldn’t have deflated the honor of this house, nor would we have inflated our bellies the way you see us now. What can we do, though? The knife is in up to the hilt; things are too far along; the goose already has its beak. But we can’t imagine that your anger would devastate you to the point of wanting to see us taken from this world. So we hope, if not for us at least for these poor creatures we carry in our bellies, that you will have some compassion for our state.’

  “‘The heavens know,’ answered Sapia Liccarda, ‘how my heart weeps for this mistake of yours, when I think of the present shame and of the trouble awaiting you when my father returns and finds this failing in his own house; and I would give a finger of my hand for this business never to have happened. But since the demon blinded you, let me know what I can do, just as long as my honor doesn’t enter into it. For you can’t make cream from blood and at the very end flesh calls, and the pity I have for your situation tickles me so that I would offer my own life to find a solution to this matter.’ When Sapia had finished speaking her sisters answered, ‘We desire no other sign of your affection than that you go and get a bit of the bread the king eats, for we’ve developed such a craving that if we don’t satisfy it the babies risk being born with little rolls on their noses. So if you’re a good Christian, tomorrow morning when it’s still dark do us this favor, and we’ll lower you down from the window where the king’s sons climbed up and dress you as a beggar so you won’t be recognized.’

  “Sapia Liccarda, full of compassion for those poor unborn creatures, put on some ragged clothes, slung a flax comb over her shoulder, and—when the Sun lifted high the trophies of light won in victory against the Night—went to the king’s palace asking for a few crumbs of bread. Tore, who had been waiting cunningly for this occasion, recognized her immediately and, when after obtaining her alms she wanted to leave, attempted to grab her. But she suddenly turned her back, with the result that his hands ended up on the comb, and he scratched himself so badly that for several days he was out of commission.