There was once a poor chicory-seller: all chicory-sellers are poor,
but this was a very poor one, and he had a large family of daughters
and two sons. The daughters he left at home with their mother, but
the two sons he took with him to gather chicory. While they were out
gathering chicory one day, a great bird flew down before them and
dropped an egg and then flew away again. The boys picked up the egg
and brought it to their father, because there were some figures like
strange writing on it which they could not read; but neither could the
father read the strange writing, so he took the egg to a farmer. [120]
The farmer read the writing, and it said:--
'Whoso eats my head, he shall be an emperor.'
'Whoso eats my heart, he shall never want for money.'
'Ho, ho!' said the farmer to himself, 'it won't do to tell the fellow
this; I must manage to eat both the head and the heart myself.' So
he said, 'The meaning of it is that whoever eats the bird will make
a very good dinner; so to-morrow when the bird comes back, as she
doubtless will to lay another egg, have a good stick ready and knock
her down; then you can make a fire, and bake it between the stones,
and I will come and eat it with you if you like.'
The poor chicory-seller thought his fortune was made when a farmer
offered to dine with him, and the hours seemed long enough till next
morning came.
With next morning, however, came the bird again. The chicory-seller
was ready with his stick and knocked her down, and the boys made a fire
and cooked the bird. But as they were not very apt at the trussing and
cooking, the head dropped into the fire, and the youngest boy said:
'This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;' so he ate it. The
heart also fell into the fire and got burnt, and the eldest boy said:
'This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;' so he ate that.
By-and-by the farmer came, and they all sat down on a bank--the farmer
quite jovial at the idea of the immense advantage he was going to
gain, and the chicory-seller quite elated at the idea of entertaining
a farmer.
'Bring forward the roast, boys,' said the father; and the boys brought
the bird.
'What have you done with the head?' exclaimed the farmer, the moment
he saw the bird.
'Oh, it got burnt, and I ate it,' said the younger boy.
The merchant ground his teeth and stamped his foot, but he dared not
say why he was so angry; so he sat silent while the chicory-seller
took out his knife [121] and cut the bird up in portions.
'Give me the piece with the heart, if I may choose,' said the merchant;
'I'm very fond of birds' hearts.'
'Certainly, any part you like,' replied the chicory-seller, nervously
turning all the pieces over and over again; 'but I can't find any
heart. Boys, had the bird no heart?'
'Yes, papa,' answered the elder brother, 'it had a heart, sure enough;
but it tumbled into the fire and got burnt, and so I ate it.'
There was no object in disguising his fury any longer, so the farmer
exclaimed testily, 'Thank you, I'll not have any then; the head and
the heart are just the only parts of a bird I care to eat.' And so
saying he turned on his heel and went away.
'Look, boys, what you've done! You've thrown away the best chance we
ever had in our lives!' cried the father in despair. [122] 'After the
farmer had taken dinner with us he must have asked us to dine with
him, and, as one civility always brings another, there is no saying
what it might not have led to. However, as you have chosen to throw
the chance away, you may go and look out for yourselves. I've done
with you.' And with a sound cudgelling [123] he drove them away.
The two boys, left to themselves, wandered on till they came to a
stable, when they entered the yard and asked to be allowed to do some
work or other as a means of subsistence.
'I've nothing for you to do,' said the landlord; 'but, as it's late,
you may sleep on the straw there, on the condition that you go about
your business to-morrow first thing.'
The boys, glad to get a night's lodging on any condition, went to
sleep in the straw. When the elder brother woke in the morning he
found a box of sequins [124] under his head.
'How could this have come here,' soliloquised the boy, 'unless the
host had put it there to see if we were honest? Well, thank God,
if we're poor there's no danger of either of us taking what doesn't
belong to us.' So he took the box to the host, and said: 'There's
your box of sequins quite safe. You needn't have taken the trouble
to test our honesty in that way.'
The host was very much surprised, but he thought the best way was to
take the money and say nothing but 'I'm glad to see you're such good
boys.' So he gave them breakfast and some provisions for the way.
Next night they found themselves still in the open country and no
inn near, and they were obliged to be content to sleep on the bare
ground. Next morning when they woke the younger boy again found a
box of sequins under his head.
'Only think of that host not being satisfied with trying us once,
but to come all this way after us to test our honesty again. However,
I suppose we must take it back to him.'
So they walked all the way back to the host and said: 'Here's your
box of sequins back; as we didn't steal it the first time it was not
likely we should take it the second time.'
The host was more and more astonished; but he took the money without
saying anything, only he praised the boys for being so good and gave
them a hearty meal. And they went their way, taking a new direction.
The next night the younger brother said: 'Do you know I've my doubts
about the host having put that box of sequins under your head. How
could he have done it out in the open country without our seeing
him? To-night I will watch, and if he doesn't come, and in the
morning there is another box of sequins, it will be a sign that it
is your own.'
He did so, and next morning there was another box of sequins. So they
decided it was honestly their own, and they carried it by turns and
journeyed on. About noon they came to a great city where the emperor
was lately dead, and all the people were in great excitement about
choosing another emperor. The population was all divided in factions,
each of which had a candidate, and none would let the candidate of
the others reign. There was so much fighting and quarrelling in the
streets that the brothers got separated, and saw each other no more.
At this time it happened that it was the turn of the younger brother
to be carrying the box of sequins. When the sentinels at the gate saw
a stranger coming in carrying a box they said, 'We must see what this
is,' and they took him to the minister. When the minister saw his box
was full of sequins he said, 'This must be our emperor.' And all the
people said, 'Yes, this is our emperor. Long live our emperor!' And
thus the boy became an emperor.
But the elder brother had entered unperceived into the town, and
went to ask hospitality in a house where was a woman with a beautiful
daughter; so they let him stay. That night also there came a box of
sequins under his head; so he went out and bought meat and fuel and
all manner of provisions, and gave them to the mother, and said,
'Because you took me in when I was poor last night, I have brought
you all these provisions out of gratitude,' and for the beautiful
daughter he bought silks and damasks, and ornaments of gold. But
the daughter said, 'How comes it, tell me, that you, who were a
poor footsore wayfarer last night, have now such boundless riches
at command?' And because she was beautiful and spoke kindly to him,
he suspected no evil, but told her, saying, 'Every morning when I
wake now, I find a box of sequins under my head.'
'And how comes it,' said she, 'that you find a box of sequins under
your head now, and not formerly?' 'I do not know,' he answered, 'unless
it be because one day when I was out with father gathering chicory,
a great bird came and dropt an egg with some strange writing on it,
which we could not read. But a farmer read it for us; only he would
not tell us what it said, but that we should cook the bird and eat
it. While we were cooking it the heart fell into the fire and got
burnt, and I ate it: and when the farmer heard this he grew very
angry. I think, therefore, the writing on the egg said that he who
ate the heart of the bird should have many sequins.'
After this they spent the day pleasantly together; but the daughter
put an emetic in his wine at supper, and so made him bring up the
bird's heart, which she kept for herself, and the next morning when
he woke there was no box of sequins under his head. When he rose in
the morning also the beautiful girl and her mother turned him out of
the house, and he wandered forth again.
At last, being weary and full of sorrow, he sat down on the ground
by the side of a stream crying. Immediately three fairies appeared
to him and asked him why he wept. And when he told them, they said
to him: 'Weep no more, for instead of the bird's heart we give you
this sheepskin jacket, the pockets of which will always be full of
sequins. How many soever you may take out they will always remain
full.' Then they disappeared; but he immediately went back to the house
of the beautiful girl, taking her rich and fine presents; but she
said to him, 'How comes it that you, who had no money left when you
went away, have now the means to buy all these fine presents?' Then
he told her of the gift of the three fairies, and they let him sleep
in the house again, but the daughter called her maid to her and said:
'Make a sheepskin jacket exactly like that in the stranger's room.' So
she made one, and they put it in his room, and took away the one the
fairies had given him, and in the morning they drove him from the house
again. Then he went and sat down by the stream and wept again; but
the fairies came and asked him why he wept; and he told them, saying,
'Because they have driven me away from the house where I stayed, and
I have no home to go to, and this jacket has no more sequins in the
pockets.' Then the fairies looked at the jacket, and they said, 'This
is not the jacket we gave you; it has been changed by fraud:' so they
gave him in place of it a wand, and they said, 'With this wand strike
the table, and whatever you may desire, be it meat or drink or clothes,
or whatsoever you may want, it shall come upon the table.' The next
day he went back to the house of the woman and her daughter, and sat
down without saying anything, but he struck the table with his wand,
wishing for a great banquet, and immediately it was covered with the
choicest dishes. There was no need to ask him questions this time,
for they saw in what his gift consisted, and in the night, when he
was asleep, they took his wand away. In the morning they drove him
forth out of the house, and he went back to the stream and sat down
to cry. Again the fairies appeared to him and comforted him; but they
said, 'This is the last time we may appear to you. Here is a ring;
keep it on your hand; for if you lose this gift there is nothing more
we may do for you;' and they went away. But he immediately returned
to the house of the woman and her beautiful daughter. They let him
in, 'Because,' they said, 'doubtless the fairies have given him some
other gift of which we may take profit.' And as he sat there he said,
'All the other gifts of the fairies have I lost, but this one they
have given me now I cannot lose, because it is a ring which fits my
finger, and no one can take it from my hand.'
'And of what use is your ring?' asked the beautiful daughter.
'Its use is that whatever I wish for while I have it on I obtain
directly, whatever it may be.'
'Then wish,' said she, 'that we may be both together on the top of
that high mountain, and a sumptuous merenda [125] spread out for us.'
'To be sure!' he replied, and he repeated her wish. Instantly they
found themselves on the top of the high mountain with a plentiful
merenda before them; but she had a vial of opium with her, and while
his head was turned away she poured the opium into his wine. Presently
after this he fell into a sound sleep, so sound that there was no fear
of waking him. Immediately she took the ring from his finger and put
it on her own; then she wished that she might be replaced at home and
that he might be left on the top of the mountain. And so it was done.
In the morning when he woke and found himself all alone on the top of
the high mountain and his ring gone, he wept bitter tears, and felt
too weary to attempt the descent of the steep mountain side. For three
days he remained here weary and weeping, and then, becoming faint from
hunger, he took some of the herbs that grew on the mountain top for
food. As soon as he had eaten these he was turned into a donkey, [126]
but as he retained his human intelligence, he said to himself, this
herb has its uses, and he filled one of the panniers on his back with
it. Then he came down from the mountain, and when he was at the foot of
it, being hungry with the long journey, he ate of the grass that grew
there, and, behold! he was transformed back into his natural shape;
so he filled the other basket with this kind of grass and went his way.
Having dressed himself like a street seller, he took the basket of
the herb which had the property of changing the eater into a donkey,
and stood under the window of the house where he had been so evil
entreated, and cried, 'Fine salad! fine salad! who will buy my fine
salad?' [127]
'What is there so specially good about your salad?' asked the maid,
looking out. 'My young mistress is particularly fond of salad, so if
yours is so very superfine, you had better come up.'
He did not wait to be twice told. As soon as he saw the beautiful
daughter, he said, 'This is fine salad, indeed, the finest of the fine,
all fresh gathered, and the first of its kind that ever was sold.'
'Very likely it's the first of its kind that ever was sold,' said she;
'but I don't like to buy things I haven't tried; it may turn out not
to be nice.'
'Oh, try it, try it freely; don't buy without trying;' and he picked
one of the freshest and crispest bunches.
She took one in her hand and bit a few blades, and no sooner had she
done so than she too became a donkey. Then he put the panniers on her
back and drove her all over the town, constantly cudgelling her till
she sank under the blows. Then one who saw him belabour her thus,
said, 'This must not be; you must come and answer before the emperor
for thus belabouring the poor brute;' but he refused to go unless
he took the donkey with him; so they went to the emperor and said,
'Here is one who is belabouring his donkey till she has sunk under his
blows, and he refuses to come before the emperor to answer his cruelty
unless he bring his donkey with him.' And the emperor made answer,
'Let him bring the beast with him.'
So they brought him and his donkey before the emperor. When he found
himself before the emperor he said, 'All these must go away; to the
emperor alone can I tell why I belabour my donkey.' So the emperor
commanded all the people to go to a distance while he took him and
his donkey apart. As soon as he found himself alone with the emperor
he said, 'See, it is I, thy brother!' and he embraced him. Then he
told him all that had befallen him since they parted. Then said the
emperor to the donkey, 'Go now with him home, and show him where thou
hast laid all the things--the bird's heart, the sheepskin jacket,
the wand, and the ring, that he may bring them hither; and if thou
deliver them up faithfully I will command that he give thee of that
grass to eat which shall give thee back thy natural form.'
So they went back to the house and fetched all the things, and the
emperor said, 'Come thou now and live with me, and give me of thy
sequins, and I will share the empire with thee.' Thus they reigned
together.
But to the donkey they gave of the grass to eat, which restored her
natural form, only that her beauty was marred by the cudgelling she
had received. And she said, 'Had I not been so wilful and malicious
I had now been empress.'
[In these stories we have had the actions of three Fate, somewhat
resembling English fairies; in the following, we meet with three who,
as often happens in Roman stories, are nothing better than witches.]