There was once a pleader [315] who sat writing in his room all day
whenever he was not in court.
One day as he so sat there came in at the window a large monkey, and
began whisking about the room. The lawyer, pleased with the antics
of the monkey, called it scimmia bellacuccia, [316] and caressed and
fed it. By-and-by he had to go out on his business, and though he was
in some fear of the pranks the monkey might be up to in his absence,
he had taken such a fancy to it that he did not like to send it away,
and at last left it alone in his apartment.
When he came home, instead of the monkey having been at any mischievous
pranks, the whole suite of rooms was put in beautiful order, and
out of very scanty materials in the cupboard an excellent dinner was
cooked and laid ready.
'Scimmia bellacuccia! is this your doing!' said the lawyer, and the
monkey nodded assent.
'Then you are a precious monkey, indeed,' he replied, and he called
it to him and fed it, and gave it part of the dinner.
The next day the monkey did the work of the house, and the lawyer
sent away his servant because he had no further need for one, the
monkey did all much better and in a more intelligent way.
All went well for a time, when one day the lawyer had occasion to
visit a friar he knew at St. Nicolò da Tolentino, for in those days
there were friars [317] there instead of nuns as now. He did not
fail to tell him of the treasure he had found in his bellacuccia,
as he called his monkey.
'Don't let yourself be deceived, friend!' exclaimed the friar. 'This
is no monkey; it is not in the nature of a monkey to do thus.'
'Come and see it yourself,' said the lawyer. 'You will find I have
over-stated nothing of what it can do and does every day.'
Some days after this the friar came, having taken care to provide
himself with his stole and a stoup of holy water. Directly he came
into the lawyer's apartment he put on his stole and sprinkled the
holy water.
The monkey no sooner saw the shadow of his habit than it took to
flight, and, after scrambling all round the room to get away from
the sight of him, finally hid itself under the bed.
'You see!' said the friar to the lawyer.
But the lawyer cried, 'Here bellacuccia; come here!' and as the monkey
was by habit very docile and obedient, when he had said 'bellacuccia'
a great many times, it at last forced itself to come to him, but
stealthily and warily, showing great fear of the monk.
When it had got quite close to the lawyer, and he was holding it,
the friar once more put on his stole, sprinkled it with holy water
and exorcised it.
Instantly bellacuccia burst away from the lawyer, and, clambering up
to the window, broke away through the upper panes and disappeared,
leaving a smoke and a smell of brimstone behind. But it was really a
man who had been put under a spell by evil arts, [318] and when thus
released by the monk's exorcism he went and became a monk, I forget
in what order, but I know it was one of those who dress in white.