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Authors: Italo Calvino

Italian Folktales (80 page)

BOOK: Italian Folktales
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Weeping, the boy left Pappy and was on his way. Nosy as ever, when he came to the usual place, he had to try it out, and said, “My club, let me have it, let me have it!” Once in motion, there was no stopping the club. It thrashed him right and left, whirling round like a lathe.

Up in his tower, Pappy Ogre doubled up with laughter. “That should put some sense into that head of his!”

The boy screamed, “My club, be still! My club, you have killed me!”

“Give it to him, give it to him!” cried Pappy from his tower top. When
he saw that the boy had had enough, he said, “Now be still,” and the club stopped.

The boy reached the inn in the lowest of spirits. “Back again, Tony? How is everything, lad? How come you're all bandaged up?”

“I don't want to talk about it. I'm going to bed. Keep this stick for me, but beware of ever saying, ‘My club, let me have it, let me have it!'”

When it was night, the innkeeper picked up the club and tested it, saying, “My club, let me have it, let me have it!” The club began thrashing the daylights out of him and all his family, flying around like a wool-winder. “Help! Help! Christians to the rescue, it is killing us!”

The boy ran in. “Give me back the donkey and the table napkin, or else I won't take back the club.”

They gave him back the donkey and the table napkin. When he had made sure they were really his, he took back the club and left. He reached his mother's house with club, donkey, and table napkin.

Hearing the knocking on the door, his mother opened a peephole and saw him there with another donkey. “You bandit! You rogue! Away with you, away with you, and may they catch you and skin you alive!”

He said, “Club, give her a couple of whacks, but go easy.”

The club went flying through the peephole and—bam! bam!—let her feel a couple of blows.

“You monster! You turncoat! Would you beat your own dear mother?”

“Open up wide if you want the club to stop.”

His mother flung open the door, and he rode in on the donkey. “No, not the donkey, for heaven's sake! You're not going to dirty my house again, are you?” she shouted over and over.

“Well, my club,” he said, “give her two more.”

She therefore quieted down immediately. The son pulled the blanket off the bed and made the donkey drop a pile of gold pieces. Then he took out the table napkin and ordered it to make ready the table. They sat down and ate and drank their fill, while here we are, dying of thirst.

 

(
Terra d'Otranto
)

 

128

The School of Salamanca

There was once a father who had an only son. To this son, who showed he was shrewd, the father said, “My son, by being thrifty, I have managed to save up a hundred ducats, and I would like to double the sum. But I'm wary of investing it, lest I lose every bit of the money, for in one way or another, men are all rogues. I worry day and night over what to do. Tell me your thoughts on the matter. What does that brain of yours advise?”

The son was silent awhile, as though lost in thought, and when he had carefully reflected, he said, “Papa, I've heard of the school of Salamanca where one may learn any number of things. If I can enter it with our hundred ducats, you can be sure I'll know what to do when I come out and rake in the money for you with little effort.”

This idea appealed to the father, and early the next day they set out for the mountain. After some distance they came to a hermitage. “Hello in there!”

“Hello, hello, who comes hither?”

“A good Christian soul exactly like yourself!”

“Here the cock crows not, the moon shines not; what brings you, solitary soul? Do you bring clippers to clip my eyelashes? Do you bring shears to shear my hedges?”

“I bring clippers to clip your eyelashes, and shears to shear your hedges.” No sooner was that said than the door of the hermitage flew open, and father and son stepped inside. They trimmed the big old man's long eyelashes with the scissors, and once he was able to look out and see them, they asked his advice.

The hermit approved of their decision, gave the boy much advice, and said in conclusion, “When you reach the top of that mountain way over there, strike the ground with the wand I am giving you, and out will come an old man far older than I am: he is the Master of Salamanca.”

They talked on a bit, then separated. For two days and two nights, father and son walked and, reaching the mountaintop, they did what the hermit had told them. The mountain opened, and there stood the Master.

At that, the poor father fell to his knees and, with tears in his eyes, told why he had come. The Master, totally impassive and hard-hearted like all masters, took the hundred ducats and invited father and son into his dwelling. He led them through rooms and rooms and rooms packed with animals of all species. As he passed them, he whistled, and all the
animals turned into dazzling young men. The Master said to the father, “You need worry no more about your son. He'll be treated even better than a nobleman. I will instruct him in the mysteries of science and, if at the end of the year, you are able to distinguish him from all these animals, you'll take him back home together with the hundred ducats you have given me. But if you're unable to recognize him, he will remain with me forever.”

At those woeful words, the poor father began weeping. But then he took heart, embraced his son, kissed him goodbye over and over, and made his way back home alone.

Morning and evening the Master instructed the youth, who caught on at once and made enormous progress. In almost no time he was so clever that he could figure out things by himself. In sum, when the year rolled around, the pupil knew everything the Master knew, good and bad.

The father, meanwhile, was on the way to get his son, and the poor old man was worried, having no idea how he would recognize his son in the midst of all those animals. He was climbing the mountain, when he heard the wind blow, and a voice in the wind spoke. “Wind I am, and a man will I become.” And there before him stood his son.

“Papa,” said the youth, “listen to me: the Master will take you into a room full of pigeons. You will hear a pigeon cooing. That will be me.” Then he said, “Man I am, wind will I become.” At that, he turned back into wind and flew away.

Overjoyed, the father pushed on to Salamanca. When he reached the mountaintop, he struck the ground with the wand, and—bang!—there stood the Master! “I've come for my boy,” explained the father, “and may God help me recognize him!”

“Fine, fine!” replied the Master. “But you'll certainly fail. Come with me.”

He took him from one end of the house to the other, upstairs, downstairs and all around to confuse him. When they entered the room containing pigeons, he said, “It's up to you now: tell me if your son is in there; if not we will move on.”

In the midst of those pigeons, a magnificent white and black one began strutting around and cooing. “Coo, cooo, COO . . . ” Right off the bat the father said, “This one is my son, I just know it is he, my blood tells me so . . . ”

The Master was mortified, but what could he do? He had to abide by the pact and hand over the son as well as the hundred ducats, which he hated even more to lose.

Overjoyed, father and son went home and, as soon as they arrived, invited relatives and friends to a big banquet, and everyone joyfully ate
and drank. After a month of merrymaking, the son said to his father, “Papa, the hundred ducats are still here, we've not yet doubled the sum. If we built ourselves a cottage, the money wouldn't even pay for the bricks. What did I go to school for? Wasn't it to learn how to rake in money? Listen to me: the fair of Saint Vitus takes place tomorrow in Spongano. I will turn into a horse with a star on my head, and you will take me to the fair to sell. Watch out, for the Master will surely come and recognize me. But sell me for no less than one hundred ducats and
without the halter
. Remember that; my life depends on it.”

The next day, right under his father's nose, he changed into a fine horse with a star on his head, and off they went to the fair. Everybody flocked open-mouthed around the beautiful animal, they all wanted it but, hearing the owner ask one hundred ducats for it, they all backed away. The fair was almost over, when an old man came sidling up, looked the horse over, and said, “How much are you asking for it?”

“One hundred ducats, halter not included.”

Hearing that figure, the old man grumbled a little. Then he balked, saying it was too much. But seeing that the owner would not come down on his price, he began counting out the money. The father was pocketing the money and hadn't yet removed the halter from the horse, when that cursed old man, quick as lightning, leaped onto the horse's back and fled like the wind. “Stop! Stop!” frantically cried the father. “I have to get the halter. The halter doesn't go with the horse!” But he'd vanished without a trace.

Astride the horse, the Master whipped him to top speed. The blows fell so fast and thick that the animal bled all over and would have soon dropped, had luck not brought them to a tavern. The Master dismounted, led the wounded horse into the stable, tied him to an empty manger, and left him still wearing the halter and with neither fodder nor water.

Working as a servant at the tavern was a girl who was a marvel to behold and, while the Master was upstairs dining, she chanced to walk through the stable. “Ah, poor horse!” she exclaimed. “Your owner must really be base to leave you here like that without fodder or water and all bloody! But I'll look after you.” The first thing she did was lead him to the fountain to drink and, so that he could do so with ease, she removed the halter.

“A horse I am, and an eel will I become!” said the horse, once out of the halter, and transformed into an eel, he jumped into the fountain.

Hearing him, the Master pushed aside the plate of macaroni he was eating and flew downstairs, livid with rage. “Man I am, and a conger will I become!” he screamed and jumped into the water, turning into a conger and pursuing the eel.

The disciple, though, did not lose heart, but said, “Eel I am, and a dove will I become!” And swish! out of the water he flew, now a beautiful dove. The sorcerer then said, “Conger I am, and a falcon will I become!” Now a falcon, he flew after the dove. They flew and flew, with the Master always on the verge of overtaking pupil and, at length, they came to Naples. Outside in the king's garden sat the princess under a tree. She happened to be looking up at the sky and suddenly saw the poor dove pursued by the falcon, and the sight moved her to pity. Seeing her, the disciple said; “Dove I am, and a ring will I become.” He became a gold ring and dropped into the princess's bosom. The falcon swooped down and lit on the roof of the house across the way.

At night, when the princess undressed and removed her corset, the ring fell into her hands. Bringing it closer to the candlestick to examine it, she heard these words: “My princess, forgive me for coming to you like this without your leave, but it's a matter of life and death. Allow me to appear in my true form, and I will tell you my whole story.”

Hearing that voice, the princess almost died of fright, but curiosity then got the better of her and she granted him permission to show himself. “Ring I am, and a man will I become!” The ring gleamed brighter, and there stood a dazzling young man. The princess was fascinated and couldn't take her eyes off of him. Then when she heard of all his accomplishments and the misfortunes he was enduring, she fell in love with him and insisted that he remain with her. In the daytime the youth turned back into the ring, which she wore on her finger. At night when they were alone, he took back his human form.

But the Master didn't stand idly by. One morning the king woke up in terrible pain. All the doctors were called, and they made him take every medicine known to man, but his suffering did not lessen. The princess was grieved, and the youth still more so because he knew all this was the Master's doing. As a matter of fact, here came a foreign doctor to the palace, from a country at the end of the earth, and he claimed that if they let him into the king's room, he would cure him. They showed him in at once, but the princess saw the ring gleaming more intensely and realized that the youth wanted a word with her. She shut herself up in her chamber, and the young man said, “What a mistake you have made! That doctor is the Master! He will cure your father but, for his pay, he will demand the ring! Refuse to give it up, but if the king orders you to, then throw it on the floor as hard as you can!”

Things happened that way: the king got well and told the doctor, “Name whatever you want, and I will give it to you.” At first the doctor pretended to want nothing, but at the king's insistence, he asked for the ring on the princess's finger. She screamed, cried, and finally fainted; but
feeling the king grab her hand to take the ring by force, she suddenly jumped up, slipped it from her finger, and threw it to the floor.

BOOK: Italian Folktales
2.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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