The Tale of Tales

by Giambattista Basile

  . . . e, volennola sciccare da la carne, non fu possebele, che s’era attaccato comme na Sarmace de penne a n’Ermafrodito de pilo. [. . . and tried to pry it off his flesh, but this was not possible, since it had attached itself like a feathery Salmacis to a hairy Hermaphrodites.]

  2

  THE MONTHS*

  Second Entertainment of the Fifth Day

  Cianne and Lise are brothers, one rich and one poor. Lise, since he is poor and not helped at all by his rich brother, leaves home and encounters such good fortune that he becomes immensely rich. Out of envy, the other brother pursues the same fate, but everything goes wrong and he is unable to save himself from great misfortune without the help of his brother.

  The laughter that came over the company when they heard of the prince’s misfortune was so excessive that every one of them nearly got a hernia, and they would have kept on laughing in counterpoint right up to the rosette of their navels1 had Cecca not signaled that she was ready to spit out her tale. And so she sequestered the mouths of them all, and began to speak: “A proverb that should be written in letters big enough for a catafalque2 says that keeping quiet never hurt anyone. So pay no attention to the tongues of those certain gossips who never say anything kind and are always cutting and sewing, snipping and pricking; they get what they have coming to them, for when it’s time to empty the sacks, it has and always will be seen that while kind words buy love and opportunity, bad words earn enemies and ruin. Listen how, and you’ll agree that I have a chamber pot’s worth of reasons for saying so.

  “It is said that there once were two brothers: Cianne, who lived as comfortably as a count; and Lise, who was barely in possession of his life. But the one was as poor in fortune as the other was miserable in spirit, to the point where he wouldn’t have gotten up from shitting to breathe life back into his brother. And so poor Lise left home in desperation and set himself to walking through the world.

  “And he walked so far that one evening he arrived at a tavern, where he found twelve young men sitting around the fire. When they saw poor Lise all numb and nearly frozen stiff from the cold—due both to the season, which was harsh, and his clothes, which were threadbare—they asked him to sit beside them at the fireplace. He accepted their invitation, since he needed to very badly, and began to warm himself up. And as he was warming himself he was asked by one of those young men, who was covered all over with hair and had such a surly face that it was frightening to look at, ‘What do you think, friend, of this weather?’

  “‘What am I supposed to think?’ said Lise. ‘I think all the months of the year do their duty, and we, on the other hand, are the ones who don’t know what we ask for. We want to dictate laws to the heavens, and since we desire things our way we don’t fish down too deep to see if what we get a whim for is good or evil, or useful or dangerous, so that when it rains in the winter we wish for the dog days of summer, and in August for downpours from the clouds, never thinking that if this were the case the seasons would be topsy-turvy, seeds would be lost, harvests would go to ruin, our bodies would be eaten by worms, and Nature would have her legs kicked out from under her. So let’s allow the heavens to follow their own course, since their trees have been made for this purpose: to temper winter’s cold with their wood and summer’s heat with their branches.’

  “‘You speak like Samson,’3 said the young man, ‘but you cannot deny that this month of March, that we’re in now, is a bit too impertinent: with all its frosts and rains, snow and hail, winds, flurries, fogs, storms, and other trifles, it makes us grow tedious of life.’ ‘You speak badly of this poor month,’ answered Lise, ‘but you did not say anything about its usefulness, for by issuing in spring it gives rise to the generation of all things, and if it were for nothing else it causes the Sun to feel the happiness of the present time, since March lets it into the house of the Ram.’4

  “The young man listened to Lise’s words with great pleasure, because he himself was that very month of March, who with his other eleven brothers had happened to stop at the tavern. To repay Lise’s kindness of not finding a bad word to say about a month that is so dismal that not even shepherds like to name it, he gave him a pretty little chest and said, ‘Take this little chest and ask it for whatever you need, and when you open it you will find it before you.’ With words of great regard Lise thanked the young man and, putting the chest under his head like a pillow, he fell asleep, and then—no sooner had the Sun come to whitewash the Night’s shadows with the brushes of its rays—he took his leave of the young men and went on his way.

  “Before he had taken fifty steps from the tavern he opened the little chest and said, ‘Oh, my dear, couldn’t I have a litter lined with wool, with a bit of a fire in it, so that I could travel nice and warmly through this snow?’ No sooner had he finished saying this than there appeared a litter with some litter bearers, who lifted him right up and placed him inside it, after which Lise told them to start walking in the direction of his house. And when it was time to start working their jaws, he opened the little chest and said, ‘Come out, things to eat!’ and then and there all sorts of good things poured down from the sky, and the spread was so grand that it could have fed ten crowned kings.

  “One evening Lise arrived in a wood—which denied the Sun entrance since it was coming from suspicious places5—and he opened the little chest, saying, ‘I would like to rest in this lovely place tonight, where the river plays counterpoint on the stones to accompany the plainsong of the cool breezes.’ Then and there a bed canopied in fine scarlet cloth sprung forth, with feather mattresses, Spanish coverlets, and sheets as light as a breath of air, all under a waxed tent. And when he asked for something to eat, a silver credenza worthy of a prince was immediately prepared, and under another tent a table was spread with food whose aroma could be smelled from a hundred miles away.

  “He ate, went to sleep, and then—when the rooster, who is the Sun’s spy, informed its master that the shadows were weak and tired and that it was the right time, as an experienced soldier knows, to get on their tail and turn them into pulp—he opened the chest and said, ‘I would like some fine clothes, because today my brother is to see me and I’d like to make his mouth water.’ No sooner said than done: he found himself dressed like a gentleman in a suit of the finest black velvet, with a collar of red camel’s hair and beautiful lacework covering the lining of yellow felt, so that it looked like a field of flowers. And once Lise was dressed he got into the litter and arrived home.

  “Seeing him arrive in such pomp and with all those luxuries, Cianne wanted to know what sort of fortune he had encountered. His brother told him about the young men he had met at the tavern and about the presents they had given him, but he kept the conversation he had had with the young man between his teeth. Cianne couldn’t wait to take his leave of Lise, and with the excuse that he was going to rest since he was tired, he immediately set off on his way.

  “He arrived at the tavern, where he met the same young men. He began to chat with them, and when he was asked the same question about what he thought of the month of March he opened his mouth wide and began to say, ‘Oh, may God confound that accursed month, enemy of those with the French disease,6 hated by shepherds, disturber of the humors, wrecker of all bodies! The month cited when you want to announce ruination to someone: “You’re in for it, since March has got you!” The month cited when you want to tell someone he’s more than conceited: “You’re a real March cure!”7 In short, it’s a month that would bring good fortune to the world, good luck to the earth, and riches to all men if its position in the ranks of its brothers were eliminated.’

  “The month of March listened to Cianne dressing him down like that, but until the next morning acted as if nothing had happened, with the idea that he would make him suck that nice outburst back up. And when Cianne was about to leave he gave him a handsome flail8 and said to him, ‘Whenever you wish for something, just say, “Flail, give me a hundred of
them!” and you’ll see rushes strung with pearls.’ Cianne thanked the young man and began to work his spurs, and he didn’t want to try out the flail until he got back home, where as soon as his foot hit the ground he went into a secret chamber to store away the money he hoped to get from the flail, to which he said, ‘Flail, give me a hundred of them!’ And if the flail didn’t give all of them to him, tell him to come back for the rest! It played a composer’s counterpoint on his legs and on his face, so that at the screams Lise came running. When he saw that the flail couldn’t be stopped, since it was acting like a wild horse, he opened the little chest and made it stop.

  “He asked Cianne what had happened and, after listening to his story, told him that he had nothing to complain about but himself, since like a thrush he had shat his troubles on his own, and that he had acted like the camel that out of its desire to have horns lost its ears. And that he should learn, if it ever happened again, to rein in his tongue, which was the key that had opened the warehouse of this misfortune, since if he had spoken well of that young man he might have had the same good luck as Lise. And, moreover, that speaking well of someone is merchandise that costs nothing but is wont to yield incredible earnings.

  “Finally, Lise comforted him by telling him not to look for greater amenities than those given to him by the heavens, because his little chest was enough to fill up thirty misers’ houses until they burst; because he would be master of all of Lise’s fortune, since a generous man’s treasurer is the heavens; and because, even if another brother would have hated him for the cruelty with which he had treated him during his time of misery, he nevertheless believed that Cianne’s meanness had been the wind of prosperity that had brought him to this port. And, therefore, he wanted to show him his gratitude and intended to recognize this favor.

  “When Cianne had listened to all of this, he asked to be pardoned for the disaffection that he had demonstrated in the past, and after making a shopkeeper’s agreement they enjoyed their good fortune together. And from then on Cianne spoke well of everything, no matter how wicked it was, for the dog burned by hot water will always be afraid of cold.”

  3

  PRETTY AS A PICTURE*

  Third Entertainment of the Fifth Day

  Betta refuses to get married but finally models a husband with her own hands. He is stolen from her by a queen; after a thousand difficulties she finds him, gets him back by means of her great art, and brings him home.

  When Cecca had finished her tale, which everyone liked enormously, Meneca, who was aiming1 to shoot out her own, saw that everyone was ready to listen with perked-up ears, and she spoke in this manner: “It has always been more difficult for man to keep what he has already acquired than to acquire new things, since in one case Fortune concurs and often gives injustice a hand, whereas in the other it takes brains. That’s why you can often see people without any sense rise to prosperity but then for lack of wits roll back down again, just as you’ll be able to clearly see from the tale that I’m about to tell you, if you’re sharp.

  “There once was a merchant who had a single, only daughter, whom he greatly wanted to see married. But however much he played this lute he always found her a hundred miles away from his motifs,2 since that monkey brain of a women hated all tails. She banned the passage of any man through her territory as if it were a no-trespass zone or a private hunting ground: her tribunal was always closed for the holidays, her schools always on vacation, her banks always shut down for court festivities, so that her father was the most afflicted and desperate man in the world.

  “When he had to go to a fair one day he asked his daughter, whose name was Betta, what she wanted him to bring back for her, and she said to him, ‘My daddy, if you love me bring me half a quintal of Palermo sugar and the same of ambrosian almonds, with four or six flasks of scented water and a little bit of musk and amber, and also bring me about forty pearls, two sapphires, a few garnets and rubies and some spun gold, and, above all, a modeling bowl and a silver scalpel.’

  “Her father marveled over this extravagant request, yet so as not to contradict his daughter he went to the fair and returned with every single item she had asked for. Once she had these things she shut herself in a room and set herself to making a large quantity of almond paste and sugar mixed with rose water and perfume, and then she began to model a splendid young man, for whom she made hair from the spun gold, eyes from the sapphires, teeth from the pearls, and lips from the rubies, and she endowed him with so much grace that the only thing he was missing was speech. After that was done, since she had heard that another statue had come alive due to the prayers of a certain king of Cyprus,3 she prayed to the goddess of love for so long that the statue began to open its eyes and, as her prayers became more insistent, he started to breathe, and after breath came words, and finally all of his limbs loosened up and he began to walk.

  “Happier than if she had acquired a new kingdom, Betta hugged and kissed him and, taking him by the hand, brought him before her father and said, ‘Daddy, my lord, you have always said that you are eager to see me married, and so to make you happy I have chosen the husband of my heart’s desire.’ Upon seeing this beautiful young man come out of his daughter’s bedroom when he hadn’t seen him go in, her father remained speechless, and when he beheld this beauty so great that he could have charged a coin a head to come and admire it,4 he gave his consent that the marriage take place and prepared great festivities.

  “Among those who showed up was a great and unknown queen, who, when she saw the beauty of Pretty as a Picture—for Betta had given him this name—became infatuated with him, and it was no laughing matter. Pretty as a Picture, who had opened his eyes to the wickedness of the world only three hours before, wasn’t yet capable of muddying any waters, and he accompanied the female guests who had come to celebrate the marriage to the stairs, just as his bride had told him to. As he was doing the same with that lady, the queen, she grabbed his hand and took him very quietly out to the coach-and-six that was waiting for her in the courtyard, and then she pulled him in and gave orders to leave for her own land, where that simpleton Pretty as a Picture, not understanding what had happened to him, became her husband.

  “After Betta had been waiting for him a while and didn’t see him come back, she sent a man down to the courtyard to see if he was talking with someone; she had another go up to the terrace to see if he had gone to get some air; she peeked into the john to see if he had gone to pay respectful tribute to his vital needs. But then, when she couldn’t find him, she immediately imagined that, beautiful as he was, he had been stolen. After she issued the usual proclamations and no one came forth to reveal his whereabouts, she resolved to go search the world for him herself, disguised as a poor woman.

  “And thus she set off walking, and after several months she reached the house of a kind old woman, who received her with much affection. When she heard of Betta’s misfortune and saw that she was pregnant besides, she felt such pity for her that she taught her three little formulas: the first was ‘tricche varlacche, ca la casa chiove’; the second, ‘anola tranola, pizze fontanola’; the third, ‘tafaro e tammurro, pizze ’ngongole e cemmino.’5 She told Betta to use them only in times of great need, and she would reap great benefits. Although she was astonished by this trifle of a gift, Betta said to herself, ‘Those who spit in your throat6 do not want to see you dead, and those who take should never cause bother; every little bit helps. Who knows what sort of good luck is hidden in those words?’ And with this she thanked the old woman and set out walking again.

  “After a long journey she arrived at a lovely city called Round Mountain. She went straight to the royal palace, where she asked, for the love of God, for some lodging in the stable, since she was close to giving birth. When the ladies-in-waiting heard this they gave her a little room off the stairs, and from there the poor thing saw Pretty as a Picture go by, which filled her with so much joy that she nearly slid right off the
tree of life. And since she found herself in such a great state of need, she decided to try the first of the old woman’s formulas. As she said ‘tricche varlacche, ca la casa chiove,’ there appeared before her a pretty little golden cart that was encrusted all over with jewels and moved by itself around the room, and it was a wonder to behold. When the ladies-in-waiting saw this they told the queen, who, without wasting any time, raced to Betta’s room; at the sight of that beautiful object she asked Betta if she wanted to sell it, for she would give her however much she asked. Betta answered that although she was ragged, her own pleasure was more important to her than all the gold in the world and so, if the queen wanted the little cart, she would have to let her sleep one night with her husband. The queen marveled at the folly of this poor girl, who went around in a pile of rags but wanted to give away such a treasure on a whim, and she decided to snatch up this fine mouthful and, drugging Pretty as a Picture with some opium, to leave the poor little girl happy but badly paid.

  “As soon as Night fell—when the stars came out to exhibit themselves in the sky and the fireflies on earth—the queen gave Pretty as a Picture the sleeping draught and had him put to bed next to Betta; he did exactly what he was told to, and no sooner had he thrown himself onto the mattress than he began to sleep like a dormouse. The hapless Betta, who had thought that she would make up for all her past woes that night, saw that she had no audience and started to complain in a loud voice, reproaching him for everything she had been forced to do because of him. And the afflicted girl never closed her mouth, nor did the sleeping boy ever open his eyes, until the Sun came out with its etching acid7 to separate the shadows from the light, and the queen came down and took Pretty as a Picture by the hand, saying to Betta, ‘So, are you happy?’ ‘May you yourself have this sort of happiness for your whole life,’ Betta answered under her breath, ‘because I just spent such a dreadful night that I’m going to remember it for a few days.’