Once upon a time there were three brothers, who were woodmen; their
employment was not one which required great skill, and they were
none of them very clever, but the youngest was the least brilliant
of all. So simple was he that all the neighbours, and his very
brothers--albeit they were not so very superior in intelligence
themselves--gave him the nickname of 'Scioccolone,' the great
simpleton, and accordingly Scioccolone he was called wherever he went.
Every day these three brothers went out into the woods to their
work, and every evening they all came home, each staggering under
his load of wood, which he carried to the dealer who paid them for
their toil: thus one day of labour passed away just like another in
all respects. So it went on for years.
Nevertheless, one day came at last which was not at all like the
others, and if all days were like it the world would be quite upside
down, or be at least a very different world from what it is. Oimè! that
such days never occur now at all! Basta, this is what happened. It
was in the noontide heat of a very hot day, the three simple brothers
committed the imprudence of going out of the shelter of the woods
into the wold beyond, and there, lying on the grass in the severest
blaze of the burning sun, they saw three beautiful peasant girls
lying fast asleep.
'Only look at those silly girls sleeping in the full blaze of the
sun!' cried the eldest brother.
'They'll get bad in their heads in this heat,' said the second.
But Scioccolone said: 'Shall we not get some sticks and boughs,
and make a little shed to shelter them?'
'Just like one of Scioccolone's fine ideas!' laughed the eldest
brother scornfully.
'Well done, Scioccolone! That's the best thing you've thought of this
long while. And who will build a shed over us while we're building
a shed for the girls, I should like to know?' said the second.
But Scioccolone said: 'We can't leave them there like that; they will
be burnt to death. If you won't help me I must build the shed alone.'
'A wise resolve, and worthy of Scioccolone!' scoffed the eldest
brother.
'Good-bye, Scioccolone!' cried the second, as the two elder brothers
walked away together. 'Good-bye for ever! I don't expect ever to see
you alive again, of course.'
And they never did see him again, but what it was that happened to
him you shall hear.
Without waiting to find a retort to his brothers' gibes, Scioccolone
set to work to fell four stout young saplings, and to set them up as
supports of his shed in four holes he had previously scooped with the
aid of his bill-hook; then he rammed them in with wedges, which he also
had to cut and shape. After this he cut four large bushy branches,
which he tied to the uprights with the cord he used for tying up his
faggots of logs; and as the shade of these was scarcely close enough
to keep out all the fierce rays of the sun, he went back to the wood
and collected all the large broad leaves he could find, and came back
and spread them out over his leafy roof. All this was very hard labour
indeed when performed under the dreaded sun, and just in the hours
when men do no work; yet so beautiful were the three maidens that,
when at last he had completed his task, he could not tear himself away
from them to go and seek repose in the shade of the wood, but he must
needs continue standing in the full sun gazing at them open-mouthed.
At last the three beautiful maidens awoke, and when they saw what a
fragrant shade had refreshed their slumbers they began pouring out
their gratitude to their devoted benefactor.
Do not run at hasty conclusions, however, and imagine that of course
the three beautiful maidens fell in love on the spot with Scioccolone,
and he had only to pick and choose which of them he would have to
make him happy as his wife. A very proper ending, you say, for a
fairy tale. It was not so, however. Scioccolone looked anything but
attractive just then. His meaningless features and uncouth, clownish
gait were never at any time likely to inspire the fair maidens with
sudden affection; but just then, after his running hither and thither,
his felling, digging, and hammering in the heat of the day, his face
had acquired a tint which made it look rougher and redder and more
repulsive than anyone ever wore before.
Besides this, the three maidens were fairies, who had taken the form
[98] of beautiful peasant girls for some reason of their own.
But neither did they leave his good deed unrewarded. By no means. Each
of the three declared she would give him such a precious gift that he
should own to his last hour that they were not ungrateful. So they
sat and thought what great gift they could think of which should be
calculated to make him very happy indeed.
At last the first of the three got up and exclaimed that she had
thought of her gift, and she did not think anyone could give him a
greater one; for she would promise him he should one day be a king.
Wasn't that a fine gift!
Scioccolone, however, did not think so. The idea of his being a
king! Simple as he was, he could see the incongruity of the idea,
and the embarrassment of the situation. How should he the poor clown,
everybody's laughingstock, become a king? and if he did, kingship
had no attractions for him.
He was too kind-hearted, however, to say anything in disparagement
of the well-meant promise, and too straightforward to assume a show
of gratitude he did not feel; so after the first little burst of
hilarity which he was not sufficiently master of himself to suppress,
he remained standing open-mouthed after his awkward manner.