“There once was, in the city of Black Grotto, a certain Mineco Aniello, who was so indebted to his misfortune that all of his property and possessions, from top to bottom, consisted of a miniature rooster1 that he had raised on bread crumbs. But one morning he found himself consumed by appetite, and since hunger drives the wolf from the woods he decided that he would try to make some small change off of it. He took it to market, where he met two birdbrain necromancers with whom he made a deal, and after they freed him of the rooster for half a coin they told him to bring it to their house and they would count him out his brass.
“When the sorcerers had set off with Mineco Aniello behind them, he heard that they were speaking to each other in thieves’ cant, saying, ‘Who could ever have told us we’d have this fine encounter, Iennarone? There’s no doubt that this rooster will make us a fortune with the stone that, as you know, it’s got inside its noggin.2 We’ll have it set immediately in a ring, and then we’ll get everything we’re able to ask for.’ Iennarone answered, ‘Shut your mouth, Iacovuccio. I already see myself rich and I can hardly believe it. I can’t wait to chop this rooster’s head off and give poverty a kick in the face and smooth out my stockings,3 for in this world virtue without money is the same as a patch for a shoe, and whatever you look like, that’s how you’re judged.’
“Mineco Aniello, who had traveled in many lands and eaten bread from many ovens, finished listening to their argot, and as soon as he came to a little path he careened off in another direction and made the dust fly, and after racing home he wrung the rooster’s neck and opened its head, where he found the stone. He immediately had it set in a brass ring and, wanting to see proof of its power, said, ‘I would like to become an eighteen-year-old boy!’ He had barely said these words when his blood flowed more briskly, his nerves grew stronger, his legs more solid, his complexion fresher, and his eyes more lively. His silver hair became golden; his mouth, which had been a ransacked farmhouse, was now populated with teeth; and his beard, which had been a hunting reserve, became a field fit for seed.
“In short, once he had become a most handsome young fellow, he started up again: ‘My desire would be to have a magnificent palace, and to become the relative of a king!’ And right before his eyes there sprung forth a palace of incredible beauty, full of marvelous statues, amazing columns, astounding paintings; it was overflowing with silver, you walked on gold wherever you set foot, jewels blazed in your face, there were swarms of servants, and the number of horses and carriages couldn’t be counted. In short, he put on such a show of richness that the king set his sights on him and was all too pleased to give him his daughter, Natalizia.
“In the meantime, when the necromancers discovered Mineco Aniello’s great fortune they decided to remove this good luck from his hands. They made a beautiful little doll that played music and danced by means of counterweights,4 and then dressed up as merchants and went off to find Pentella, the daughter of Mineco Aniello, with the excuse of selling it to her. When she saw that lovely thing, she asked what price they were asking, and they answered that no amount of money could buy it but that she could become its owner merely by doing them a favor, which was to let them see how her father’s ring was made so that they could copy the model and make another one like it, and then they would give her the doll without any kind of payment. After listening to this offer, Pentella, who had never heard the proverb ‘Think twice if it’s a steal,’ immediately accepted the arrangement and told them to return the next morning and she would get her father to lend her the ring. When the sorcerers had left and her father came home, she said so many sweet words and used so many charms that, with the excuse that she felt melancholy and wanted to cheer herself up a little, she convinced him to lend her the ring.
“But the next day—when the Sun’s street cleaner had the litter of the shadows swept from the squares of the sky—the sorcerers came back, and no sooner did they have the ring in their hands than they cleared out like the Dickens without leaving a trace of smoke behind them, and poor Pentella almost died of anguish. When the sorcerers reached a wood where some of the tree branches were doing the flower dance5 and others were playing hot bread,6 they told the ring to ruin everything that the rejuvenated old man had created. No sooner said than done: Mineco Aniello, who at that moment found himself before the king, saw his hair turn shaggy and white, his forehead become lined and his eyelashes bristly, his eyes glaze over, his face grow creased, his mouth lose its teeth, his beard reforest itself, his hump rise back up, his legs tremble, and, above all, his flashy clothes return once more to rags and patches. At the sight of that miserable vagabond sitting there chatting with him, the king immediately had him thrown out to the tune of stick beating and vulgar words.
“When he saw himself fall plumb down like that, Mineco Aniello went home to his daughter in tears and, looking for the ring so that he could find a remedy for this disaster, he heard of the trick the false merchants had played on her. And then he nearly threw himself out the window, cursing a thousand times the ignorance of his daughter, who on account of a wretched doll had caused him to end up like an old bogeyman,7 and on account of a bunch of rags had reduced him to running himself ragged, since he had resolved to roam far and wide, like bad money, until he got news of those merchants.
“As he was saying this he put an old cloak8 on his shoulders, some rough boots9 on his feet, a knapsack on his back, and a club in his hand and, leaving his daughter cold and icy, he began walking in desperation. And he walked so far that he arrived at the kingdom of Dark Hole, which was inhabited by mice, where he was mistaken for a spy sent by the cats and was immediately taken before Rosecone, the king. When asked who he was, where he came from, and what he was doing in those parts, Mineco Aniello first gave the king a pork rind as a sign of tribute. Then he told him, one by one, of all his misfortunes, concluding that he intended to consume that black bark of his body until he got news of those damned souls who had tricked him out of a joy so dear to him and taken from him all at once the flower of his youth, the fountain of his wealth, and the bastion of his honor.
“At these words Rosecone felt pity gnawing at him and, wanting to give the poor man some consolation, he called the oldest mice to council and asked them for their opinion on Mineco Aniello’s misfortune, ordering them to conduct an investigation to see if they might perhaps obtain some news about those disguised merchants. Among these were, by chance, Rudolo and Sautariello, mice well versed in worldly matters who had spent nearly six years at an inn on one of the thoroughfares. They said, ‘Keep your spirits up, friend, for things will go better than you think. Now you should know that one day when we found ourselves in a room at the Inn of the Horn,10 where the most esteemed men in the world find lodging and revel in happiness, two men of Hooked Castle passed through. After they ate and reached the bottom of the wine jug, they started discussing a trick they had played on some old man from Black Grotto: how they had robbed him of a stone that had great powers, which, said one of them whose name was Iennarone, he would never take off his finger so as not to chance losing it like the daughter of the old man did.’ When Mineco Aniello heard this he told the two mice that if they were willing to accompany him to the town of those thieves and get the ring back for him, he would give them a load of cheese and salted meat, which they could enjoy together with the lord their king. Since it involved greasing their hands, the mice offered to travel across seas and over mountains for him, and when they had gotten permission from the crowned head of mousedom, they left.
“After a long journey they arrived at Hooked Castle, where the mice had Mineco Aniello stop and wait for them under some trees on the shore of a river that, like a bloodsucker, took the blood of day laborers and threw it out to sea. Once they found the sorcerers’ house, they observed that Iennarone never took the ring off his finger; for this reason they decided to attempt to win their victory by means of a stratagem. They waited—until Night dyed the face of the sky with ink,
since it had been burned by the Sun11—and as soon as Iennarone had gone and stretched himself out to sleep, Rudolo began to gnaw on his ring finger. Iennarone felt something hurting him, and took the ring off and placed it on a table at the head of the bed. When he saw this happen, Sautariello put it in his mouth and in four hops they were back with Mineco Aniello. With greater joy than a man condemned to hanging feels when he is granted a pardon,12 Mineco Aniello immediately turned the two necromancers into asses, and, spreading his cloak over one of them, like a fine count he straddled it. Then he loaded the other one with lard and cheese and set off toward Dark Hole, where he presented the gifts to the king and the counselors and thanked them for all the good he had received thanks to them, praying to the heavens that they might never be caught in a trap, never be bothered by a cat, and never be afflicted by arsenic.
“He left that town and arrived at Black Grotto, where he became even more handsome than before and was received by the king and his daughter with the most tender caresses in the world. And after he had the asses thrown off a mountaintop, he enjoyed himself with his wife, never taking the ring off his finger so as not to cause another calamity, for a dog scorched by hot water becomes afraid of cold water, too.”
Lo quale co chiù allegrezza che non ha lo ’mpiso quanno l’arriva la grazia, fece subeto deventare dui asene li nigromante, sopra l’uno de li quale stiso lo ferraivolo se accravaccaie . . . e, carrecato l’autro de lardo e caso, toccaie a la vota de Pertuso Futo. [With greater joy than a man condemned to hanging feels when he is granted a pardon, Mineco Aniello immediately turned the two necromancers into asses, and, spreading his cloak over one of them . . . he straddled it. Then he loaded the other one with lard and cheese and set off toward Dark Hole.]
2
THE TWO BROTHERS*
Second Entertainment of the Fourth Day
Marcuccio and Parmiero are brothers, one rich and full of vices and the other virtuous and penniless. After various adventures the poor brother is turned out by his rich brother and becomes a baron, and the rich one falls into misery and is taken to the gallows. But when he is recognized as innocent, he receives from his brother a portion of his riches.
The story of Mineco Aniello gave great satisfaction to the prince and his wife, and they blessed the mice a thousand times for having caused the poor man to recover his stone and the sorcerers to recover the measure of their ring finger with a broken neck.1 But Cecca was prepared to chatter, and when everyone had barricaded the door of their words with a bar of silence, she began to speak in this manner: “There is no greater parapet against the assaults of Fortune than Virtue, which is an antidote to misfortune, a bastion against ruin, and a port in a sea of troubles; it drags you out of the mud, saves you from storms, protects you from terrible disasters, consoles you in despair, aids you in need, and defends you against Death, as you will hear from the tale that I have on the tip of my tongue, all ready to tell you.
“There once was a father who had two sons, Marcuccio and Parmiero. When he was about to settle his accounts with Nature and tear up the register of his life, he called them to the side of his bed and said to them, ‘My blessed sons, the cops of Time will not take much longer before they come to break down the door of my years and confiscate, even if it is against the law of the kingdom,2 the dotal goods of this life as payment for the debts I owe to the earth. And therefore, since I love you like the pupils of my eyes, I cannot depart from you without leaving you with a few good memories, so that you will be able to sail with the north wind of good advice in this gulf of troubles and reach a safe port. So open your ears, for even if what I’m giving you seems like nothing, you should know that it is a treasure that will never be stolen by thieves, a house that will never be demolished by earthquakes, and a field that will never be consumed by earthworms.
“‘Now3 in the first place and above all, be fearing of the heavens, for everything comes from up there and if you lose your way you’ll end up with a fried liver. Do not let yourselves be butchered by idleness, growing up like pigs at their troughs, for just because someone grooms his own horse does not mean he can be called a stable hand. You’ve got to help yourself by kicking and biting; he who works for another eats for himself.
“‘Save when you have something to save, for he who saves earns; big money is made coin by coin; he who lays by comes by; he who has the means dresses a good salad; if you store up you eat; don’t fritter your things away, for friends and relatives are fine but the house where there is nothing is a gloomy one; he who has money builds, and he who has wind sails, and he who has no money is a bogeyman and an ass, prey to agony at every moment. And so, my kind friend, you make your purchases based on your earnings; have as much ass as you can cover and as much land as you can smell; a small kitchen makes for a big house.
“‘Do not be too much of a chitchat, for though the tongue is without bones it can break a back; listen, look, and keep quiet if you wish to live in peace; whatever you see, you see; whatever you hear, you hear; eat little and speak little; the warmth of clothes never hurt anyone; he who speaks too much often errs.
“‘Content yourselves with little, for broad beans that last are better than confections that run out; small enjoyments are better than large tribulations; he who cannot have meat may drink broth; he who has no other options may sleep with his wife; cot cot autem,4 patch things up as you can; he who cannot have the pulp may gnaw on the bone.
“‘Always associate with those better than you and do their shopping for them: tell me who you go around with and I’ll tell you what sort of man you are. He who associates with a cripple will be limping by the end of the year; he who sleeps with the dog won’t get up without fleas; give a wicked man your things and let him be on his way, for bad company leads a man to the gallows.
“‘Think and then act, for it’s a bad thing to close the stable once the oxen have gone out; when the barrel is full, plug it immediately, since when it’s empty there is nothing to plug; first chew and then swallow, for out of haste the cat gave birth to blind kittens; he who walks slowly has a good day.
“‘Flee from disputes and quarrels, and do not step on every stone, for he who jumps over too many poles ends up getting one stuck in his behind; a horse that bucks gets more kicks than it gives; he who wounds by scratching dies by the switchblade; the jug goes to the well so often that it finally leaves its handle there; the gallows is made for the unfortunate.
“‘Do not let yourselves get heated up with pride, for you need more than a white tablecloth to make a table; bow down and adapt; the house that sent off smoke was never a good one; the good alchemist puts his distillate in the ashes so that it will not fill with smoke, and the respectable man must remind himself to reduce his proud thoughts to ash in order not to be smoked by arrogance.
“‘Do not take on Rosso’s5 way of thinking, for he who meddles ends up in a muddle; only a fool tries to fix the prices of cucumbers6 and the salt that goes in stewpots.
“‘Do not get mixed up with noblemen, and go more readily to draw fishnets than to serve at court; a lord’s love and wine in a flask are good in the morning but bad by nightfall, and you get nothing but nice words and rotten apples from them; at court your services are fruitless, your plans spoiled, your hopes broken; you sweat mercilessly, run without pause, sleep without peace, shit without a candle, and eat without appetite.7
“‘Keep clear of the rich man who has become poor and the peasant who has made his way up, of the desperate pauper, the cunning servant, the ignorant prince, the self-serving judge, the jealous woman and the “tomorrow” man, those who hang around courts of justice, the hairless man and the bearded woman, calm rivers, smoky chimneys, bad neighbors, whiny children, and envious men.
“‘Finally, make an effort to realize that he who has a trade has a place in the world and he who has some sense in his noggin can survive in the woods and has gotten his wisdom teeth and shed his first ears; a go
od horse lacks not a saddle.
“‘I’d like to tell you a thousand more things, but Death’s agonies are upon me and I lack breath.’ As he said this he barely had the strength to raise his hand and bless them before the sails of his life were lowered and he entered into the port of all the troubles of this world.
“When their father had departed, Marcuccio, who had sculpted his words inside his heart, dedicated himself to studying at school, circulating among the academies, debating with students,8 and discussing noble things, so that in the wink of an eye he became the top man of letters in that town. But since poverty is a tick that feeds on virtue, and the waters of good fortune slide off the man anointed with the oil of Minerva,9 the poor man was always penniless, always dry, always singing ‘Cruel Heart and Harsh Desire,’10 and more often than not he found himself fed up with emptying texts and longing instead to lick frying pans, tired of studying court decisions and needy of legal assistance himself, hard at work on the Indigestion11 and always obliged to fast.
“Parmiero, on the other hand, had given himself up to a careless and extravagant way of life, spending his time either gaming or tavern hopping, and he grew big and tall and was without any virtue in the world. But even so, in one way or another he was able to fill his mattress with good straw. When Marcuccio saw this he proclaimed that he regretted that because of his father’s advice he had lost his way, since the Donatus grammar12 had not donated him a thing, the Cornucopia13 had reduced him to a state of dire need, and Bartolus had put nothing in his bags,14 whereas by entertaining himself with the bones of dice15 Parmiero was able to eat good meat and by amusing himself with his hands he was able to keep his gullet full.
The Tale of Tales Page 37
