“Proverbi, noti spontaneamente, e quasi inconsciamente sulle labbre
del popolo, oltre contenere una profonda sapienza . . . manifestano
la prontezza, il brio.”—DA AUGUSTO ALFANI: _Proverbi e Modi
Proverbiali_ (1882).
The following story is translated from the Romognola, or mountain
dialect, also called Bolognesa, which is a rude, strange patois, believed
to be very ancient. It was written by a native of Rocca Casciano, near
Forli. The beginning of it in the original is as follows:
“_Un Eter proverbi di Virgilio_.—Ho iera una volta un om co des a
Verzeglie che un su usen lera un ledre e vieva rube quaicosa, e é bon om
ed nom Matei, e pregheva Verzeglie ed ulei de un det, ho proverbi,
incontre a e le der.”
There was once a man who said to Virgil that one of his neighbours was a
thief, who had stolen something from him, and the man, whose name was
Matteo, begged Virgil to give him a saying or a proverb against the
thief.
Virgil replied: “Truly thou hast been robbed; but be of good cheer, and
thou mayst regain thine own again if thou wilt remember this saying:
“Se un dievele ti disprezza,
Tu guent un dievele e mezza,
E quan e lup la e tu agnel,
L’ e temp et tolá su pel.”
“If a devil should injure thee,
Doubly a devil thou shouldst be;
And if a wolf thy lamb should win,
’Tis time for thee to take his skin.”
Matteo had learned that the thief, whose name was Bandelone, was in the
habit of sitting by a pool or pond, and whenever any traveller came by he
would cry that he had let fall a bag of gold into the water, and, being
very lame and ill, could not dive for it. So he would promise a great
reward to him who would recover it.
Then the traveller, deluded by the tale, would strip himself and dive
into the pool, which was very deep, with steep banks. And while he was
under water the crafty thief would seize on his clothes, arms, and money,
mount his horse, and ride away.
Matteo reflected on this. Then he got a small bag and filled it with
nails, so that it seemed to be heavy, as if with money. So he went to
the pool, where Bandelone was waiting like a spider for flies, and seeing
Matteo, whom he did not recognise, because the latter was disguised, he
began to cry:
“Oh, kind sir, have pity on a poor man who has lost his whole fortune!”
And so he went on to tell how he had dropped his bag full of gold in the
water, and was too weak to dive for it, with all the rest of the tale.
Then Matteo consented to dive for the purse; but first of all put his
horse, with all his arms and clothes, on the opposite bank, where they
would be in safety.
Bandelone was angry enough at this, and cried:
“Why do you do that? Do you think I am a thief?”
“No, friend,” answered Matteo. “But if a thief should come to take my
things thou wouldst be too weak to defend them, and he might do thee
harm. It is all for thy good that I take such care.”
Bandelone wished all this kind care to the devil, but he had to submit.
Then Matteo dived twice or thrice, and then came out of the water as if
overjoyed, crying, as he held his bag of nails {196} on high:
“Ech! Ho alo trovè e sac d’ oro! Com le grand!”—Behold, I have found
the bag of gold! How large it is!
Bandelone was indeed surprised at this; but, believing that Matteo had by
chance really found a treasure, he cried:
“Yes, that is mine! Give it to me!”
“_Zentiment_! Fair and softly, friend,” replied Matteo. “Give me half,
or I will keep it all.”
Bandelone would by no means consent to this. At last Matteo said:
“Well, as I do not know what is in the bag, I will take a risk. Give me
your horse and sword and cloak for the bag. That is my last word, and if
you utter another I will ride away with the bag and keep all.”
So Bandelone gave him his horse and cloak and a fine sword. And Matteo,
when mounted, pitched him the bag, and rode away singing merrily:
“If a devil should injure thee,
Doubly a devil thou must be;
And if a wolf thy lamb should win,
’Tis time for thee to take his skin.”
VIRGILIO AND THE FATHER OF TWELVE CHILDREN.
A LEGEND FROM COLLE DI VAL D’ELSA, TUSCANY.
“In the earliest form of the legend, Virgil appears not only as doing
no harm, but also as a great benefactor.”—COMPARETTI: _Virgil in the
Middle Ages_.
Once when Virgil was in Colle di Val d’Elsa, he found that the utmost
poverty and wretchedness prevailed among the people. Everywhere were men
and women wailing and weeping because they could not get food for their
children.
Virgil began by giving alms right and left, but was obliged to cease,
finding that all his means would be but a trifle towards relieving such
suffering. Therefore he resolved to go to the Emperor and beg him to use
his authority in the matter. But while in the first furlong of his
journey he met a man wailing bitterly, and on asking the cause, the one
who wept replied:
“_Caro Signore_, I weep in despair not for myself, but for my twelve
children, who, starving, lie on the bare ground. And this day we are to
be turned out of the house because I owe for the rent. And I have gone
hither and thither to seek work and found none, and now thou knowest
all.”
Then Virgil, who was kind of heart, replied:
“Be not afraid of the future. Holy Providence which takes care of the
birds of the air will also provide for you.”
“My dear lord,” replied the poor man, “I trust it is true what you tell
me, but I have waited a long time now for Holy Providence without seeing
it.”
“Hope yet a little longer,” answered Virgil. “Just now I will go with
you to your house and see how I can aid you.”
“Thank you, my lord,” replied the poor man, whose doubts in a Holy
Providence began to weaken. So they went together, and truly found
twelve children with their mother, well-nigh dying from cold, hunger, and
exposure.
Then Virgil, having relieved them, thought deeply what could be done to
help all this wretchedness, and invoked a certain spirit in whom he
trusted—_un spirito di sua fiducia_—asking how he could aid the suffering
_Colligiani_.
And the spirit replied:
“Sorti da quella casa,
E passa disotto a una torre,
E nel passare
Si senti a chiamare
A nome, alze il capo,
Ma non videte nessuno,
Soltanto senti una voce,
Una voce che le disse
‘Sali su questa torre!’”
“Leave this house, in going,
Thou’lt pass beneath a tower,
And hear a voice which calls thee,
Yet looking, thou’lt see nothing,
Yet still will hear it crying,
‘Virgil, ascend the tower!’”
Virgil did this, and heard the Voice call him, when he ascended the tower
and there beheld a small red goblin, who was visible to him alone,
because Virgil had invoked him. And the Spirit said to him:
“Behold this little dog. Return with it to the house whence thou hast
come, and go forth with the poor man, and take the dog with you. And
where the dog stops there dig!”
And they did so. And they went away, and at last the dog stopped at a
place, and the poor man began to dig. And lo! ere long the earth became
red, and he came to iron ore. And from this discovery resulted the iron
factory of Colle, and by it that of glass; wherever the dog led they
found minerals. So from that time there was no more suffering because
there was work for all.
* * * * *
This legend is a full confirmation of what I have elsewhere remarked,
that these “witch-stories” have almost invariably a deeper meaning or
moral than is to be found in the “popular tales” generally prevalent
among peasants and children. Thus, while we find in this the magician
Virgil, his invocation to a familiar spirit, the apparition of the Red
Goblin of the Tower and the mystical dog of the Kobold, or goblins of the
mines, there is with it a noble reflection that the best way to relieve
suffering is to provide work. In an ordinary fairy-tale the magician
would have simply conjured up a treasure and have given it to the poor.
Apropos of the word _goblin_, which is generally supposed to be from the
German _Kobold_, I would observe that the Greek κοβαλι or _cobali_ are
defined in a curious old French work as _lutins_, “household spirits, or
domestic fairies.”