Tuscan folk-lore and sketches, together with some other papers. Anderton Isabella M.

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СКАЧАТЬ through the garden gate, and saw Elisa.

      “Oh, look,” said he to the hunters, “look at that lovely girl who does not move; I never saw anyone so beautiful. I must have her.”

      So he went into the garden, took Elisa, carried her home, and put her into a glass case in his room. Now he spent all the time in his room; he would never come out, and would not even let the servants in to make his bed, for he loved Elisa more and more every day, and could not bear to leave her, or to let anyone else see her.

      “What can be in there?” said the servants; “we can’t keep his room clean if we’re not allowed to go into it.”

      So they watched their opportunity, and one day when the prince had gone to take the holy water, they made their way in to dust.

      “Oh! oh!” said they, “the prince was quite wise to keep his room shut up. What a beautiful woman, and what lovely slippers!”

      With that one went up, and said, “This slipper’s a little dusty; I’ll dust it.”

      While he was doing so, it moved; so he pushed it a little more, and it came off altogether. Then he took off the other too, and immediately Elisa came back to life. When the prince came home he wanted to marry her at once; but his father said: —

      “How do you know who she is? She may be a beggar’s daughter.”

      “Oh, no,” said Elisa, “I’m a princess,” and she told them her father’s name.

      Then a grand wedding feast was prepared, to which her father and step-mother were invited; and they came, not knowing who the bride was to be. When they saw Elisa, the father was very glad, but the step-mother was so angry that she went and hanged herself. Nevertheless the marriage feast went off merrily. Elisa and the prince were very happy, and presently united the two kingdoms under their single rule. If they’re not alive now, they must be dead; and if they’re not dead, they must still be alive.

      MONTE ROCHETTINO

      We were in the chestnut woods; I swinging lazily in my hammock, Clementina with her knitting, sitting on the grass beside me, a pretty clear pool reflecting the trees at our feet.

      “Do you know the story of Monte Rochettino?” asked Clementina, taking a piece of dry bread to keep her mouth moist.

      “No,” said I.

      So she settled herself comfortably and began the following curious tale, in which ever and anon one seems to recognise a likeness to the old Greek legend of Cupid and Psyche; but a likeness all distorted in transmission through ignorant, unimaginative minds: —

      Once upon a time there was a widow with three daughters. (“Women always have three daughters in fairy tales,” she added, by way of parenthesis.) This widow was very poor, so that when a famine came over the country she and her children were almost dying with hunger, and had to go out into the fields and get grass to eat. Once as they were looking for food they found a beautiful golden cabbage. The eldest girl took a zappa (a sort of pickaxe with only one arm to it) and tried to root up the cabbage. This she could not succeed in doing, but she broke off a leaf which she took to the market, and sold for a hundred gold scudi.

      The next day the second daughter went, worked all day at the cabbage, and broke off two leaves. Away she went with them to the market, and got two hundred gold scudi.

      The third morning the youngest daughter took the zappa, and went into the field. At the very first stroke the whole cabbage came up, and a little man jumped out of the earth; a very tiny little man he was, but beautifully dressed. He took the maiden by the hand, and led her down a flight of stairs underground. There she found herself in a beautiful palace, such as she had never dreamt of, all golden and shining. The little man gave her a bunch of keys, and said: —

      “This palace is yours, you may do what you like, and go where you like in it. You are the mistress of it. The master of it, your husband, you will not see, he will only come to you at night. Be happy, and make no effort to look at him, or you will lose everything. If you want anything in the daytime call Monte Rochettino.”

      With that the little man vanished. The maiden wandered all over the new dwelling, and when it was dark she laid herself down and waited for her husband, the master of the palace. So time went on. She loved her husband, although she had never seen him, and felt that she would be very happy if only she could know something about her mother and sisters.

      At last she could bear the suspense no longer, and one morning she called “Monte Rochettino!”

      In an instant the little man stood before her.

      “Oh, Monte Rochettino,” said she, “let me go home and see my mother and sisters. Poor things, they must be so sad at losing me; they’ll think I am dead.”

      “You’ll betray me,” said Monte Rochettino.

      “No, no, I won’t: I promise you: only let me just go and see them.”

      “Well, go, but be sure you don’t betray me, and be back in three days.”

      So the girl went home, and her mother and sisters did all they could to prove their joy at seeing her, poor things. Then they asked her where she lived, and she told them she lived with her husband in a beautiful palace underground; but that her husband came to her at night, and she had never seen him. Then her mother said to her: —

      “I will give you these matches and this candle. When he is asleep, light the candle, and see what he has round his neck.”

      So the girl took the matches and the candle and went back to the palace.

      “Well, have you betrayed me?” said Monte Rochettino.

      “No,” said she.

      “The better for you,” answered the little man.

      That night while her husband was asleep, the girl got up softly, lighted the candle, and saw a box round her husband’s neck. The key was in the lock, she turned it, and went in.1 She found herself in a room where was a woman weaving.

      “What are you doing?” she asked.

      “I am weaving swaddling clothes for the king’s son, who is about to be born.”

      Then she went into another room and found a woman sewing.

      “What are you doing?” she asked.

      “I am making robes for the king’s son, who is about to be born.”

      In the next room she found a shoemaker.

      “What are you doing?” she asked again.

      “Making shoes for the king’s son, who is about to be born.”

      Then she went back, locked the box again, and held the candle low down to look at her husband. As she did so a drop of wax fell on his neck, and he woke.

      “You have betrayed me,” said he, “and must lose me.”

      In an instant she found herself standing above-ground, her zappa over her shoulder, and clad only in her nightdress, poor thing. She went a little way, and found the king’s washerwomen at work. They gave her some clothes and said: —

      “You СКАЧАТЬ