Part 5

“Well shall I remember it,” replied Minuzzolo. So he went on to the land and by the strand ever on, till he came to a great and fine ship, and pausing as he looked at it, he thought he would like to be a sailor. Therefore he asked the captain if a boy was wanted. And the captain, being much pleased, took him and treated him very kindly, and for three years Minuzzolo was a mariner.

But one night there was a great storm, and there came in an instant such a tremendous wave and gale of wind that Minuzzolo was blown afar into the sea and wafted away a mile ere he was missed. However, he gained a beach and scrambled ashore, where he lay for a long time as if asleep. Yet it seemed to him, while thinking of the captain and his mates, that he were being borne away and ever on, as if in a dream, and indeed, when he awoke, he found himself in what he knew must be another country, in another clime.

And being very hungry, and seeing a fine garden wherein delicious fruit was growing, he approached a tree to pluck a pear; when all at once there sprang out a man of terrible form, with eyes like a dragon, who threatened him with death.

But Minuzzolo drew the ring from his pocket and repeated the charm, and as he did this the sorcerer fell dead. And then he heard the voice of the Siren singing afar, and it drew nearer and nearer, till a beautiful girl appeared. And when she saw the hideous sorcerer lying dead, she exclaimed with joy: “At last I am free! This the great Master Virgilio has done; over land and sea and afar off he has put forth his power. Blessed be his name!”

Then she explained to the youth that she and others had been enslaved and enchanted, and compelled to become a Siren and bewitch men. But Virgilio, knowing that she was lurking near to charm his pupil, had given him the book to read, but that her master by his power had closed the leaves, so that Minuzzolo had yielded to her song. But Virgilio had put forth a greater power, and brought it to pass that the Siren was herself enchanted with love, and in the end the sorcerer was defeated.

Then Virgilio appeared and blessed the young couple, who were wedded and lived ever after happily. Such things did Virgilio.

* * * * *

This strange story, in which classic traditions are blended with the common form of a fairy-tale, was sent to me from Siena, where it had been taken down from some authority to me unknown. It begins very abruptly, for which reason I have supplied the introductory passage in parenthesis.

Minuzzolo, led strangely afar over the sea, drawn by the voice of the Siren, suggests that the Argonauts were called _Minii_, because they were descended, like Jason, from the daughters of _Minia_. There may be here some confusion with Minos, of whom Virgil says that “he holds in his hand an urn and shakes the destiny of all human beings, citing them to appear before his tribunal,” “Quæsitor Minos urnam movet.” In the Italian legend Minuzzolo, or Minos, has a ring which compels all who hear his charm to obey.

Minuzzolo wins his Siren by means of a ring, and it is remarkable that Hesychius derives the name _Siren_ from _σεἰρη_, _seire_, a small ring. Moreover, the sirens in the old Greek mythology did not of their own accord or will entice sailors to death. “The oracle,” says Pozzoli (Dizionario Mit.) “had predicted that they should perish whenever a single mortal who had heard their enchanting voices should escape them.” Therefore they were compelled by a superior power to act as they did.

Confused and garbled as it all is, it seems almost certain that in this tale there are relics of old Græco-Latin mythology.

The names of the three Sirens were Aglaope, Pisinoe, Thexiopia; according to Cherilus, Thelxiope, Molpe and Aglaophonos. _Clearchus_, however, gives one as Leucosia, another as Ligea, the third as Parthenope. “Aglaope was sweetest to behold, Aglaophone had the most enchanting voice.” Therefore we may infer that Aglaope, or Aglaophone, was the heroine of this tale. It is remarkable that _Aglaia_, a daughter of Jupiter, was the fairest and first of the three Muses, as Aglaope was of the Sirens.

It would seem evident that Edgar A. Poe had the Siren Ligea in mind when he wrote:

“Ligeia, Ligeia, My beautiful one, Whose harshest idea Will to melody run . . . Ligeia! wherever Thy image may be, No magic shall sever Thy music from thee; Thou hast bound many eyes In a dreamy sleep, But the strains still arise Which thy vigilance keep.”

Most remarkable of all is the fact that the Sirens, who were regarded as evil witches or enchantresses of old, are in this story, which was written by a witch, indicated as women compelled by fate to delude mariners, which has escaped all commentators, and yet was plainly enough declared by the Oracle.

LAVERNA.

One day a fox entered a sculptor’s shop, And found a marble head, when thus he spoke: ‘O Head! there is such feeling shown in thee By art—and yet thou canst not feel at all!’

_Æsop’s Fables_.

It happened on a time that Virgil, who knew all things hidden or magical, he being a magician and poet, having heard an oration, was asked what he thought of it.

And he replied:

“It seems impossible for me to tell whether it is all introduction or conclusion. It is like certain fish, of whom one is in doubt whether they are all head or all tail, or the goddess Laverna, of whom no one ever knew whether she was all head or all body, or both.”

Then the Emperor asked him who this deity might be, for he had never heard of her.

And Virgil answered:

“Among the gods or spirits who were of the ancient times there was one female, who was the craftiest and most knavish of all. She was called Laverna; she was a thief, and very little known to the other deities, who were honest and dignified, while Laverna was rarely in heaven or in the country of the fairies. She was almost always on earth among thieves, pickpockets, and panders; (she lived) in darkness. Once it happened that she went to a great priest, in the form of a very beautiful, stately priestess, and said to him:

“‘Sell me your estate. I wish to raise on it a temple to (our) god. I swear to you on my body that I will pay thee within a year.’ {39}

“Therefore the priest gave her the estate. And very soon Laverna had sold off all the crops, grain, cattle, and poultry. There was not left the value of four farthings. But on the day fixed for payment there was no Laverna to be seen. The fair goddess was far away, and had left her creditor in the lurch—_in asso_.

“At the same time Laverna went to a great lord, and bought of him a castle, well-furnished, with much land. But this time she swore _on her head_ to pay in full in six months. And she did as she had done by the priest; she stole and sold everything—furniture, cattle, crops; there was not left wherewith to feed a fly.

“Then the priest and the lord appealed to the gods, complaining that they had been robbed by a goddess. And it was soon found that the thief was Laverna. Therefore she was called to judgment before all the gods. And she was asked what she had done with the property of the priest, unto whom she had sworn by her body to make payment at the time appointed. And she replied by a strange deed, which amazed them all, for she made her body disappear, so that only her head remained, and it cried:

“‘Behold me! I swore by my body, but body have I none.’

“Then all the gods laughed.

“After the priest came the lord, who had also been tricked, and to whom she had sworn by her head. And in reply to him Laverna showed to all present her whole body, and it was one of the greatest beauty, but without a head, and from the neck there came a voice which said:

“‘Behold me, for I am Laverna, who Have come to answer to that lord’s complaint Who swears that I contracted debt with him, And have not paid, although the time is o’er, And that I am a thief because I swore Upon my head; but, as you all can see, I have no head at all, and therefore I Assuredly ne’er swore by such an oath!’

“Then there was indeed a storm of laughter among the gods, who made the matter right by ordering the head to join the body, and bidding Laverna pay up her dues, which she did.

“Then Jove spoke and said:

“‘Here is a roguish deity without a duty, while there are in Rome innumerable thieves, sharpers, cheats, and rascals—_ladri_, _bindolini_, _truffatori e scrocconi_—who live by deceit. These good folk have neither a church nor a god, and it is a great pity, for even the very devils have their master Satan. Therefore I command that in future Laverna shall be the goddess of all the knaves or dishonest tradesmen, and all the rubbish and refuse of the human race, who have been hitherto without a god or devil, inasmuch as they have been too despicable for the one or the other.’

“And so Laverna became the goddess of all dishonest people. Whenever anyone planned or intended any knavery or aught wicked, he entered her temple and invoked Laverna, who appeared to him as a woman’s head. But if he did his work badly and maladroitly, when he again invoked her he saw only the body. But if he was clever, then he beheld the whole goddess, head and body.

“Laverna was not more chaste than she was honest, and had many lovers and many children. It is said that, not being bad at heart, she often repented her life and sins; but do what she might she could not reform, because her passions were so inveterate. And if a man had got any woman with child, or any maid found herself _incinta_, and would hide it from the world and escape scandal, they would go every day to invoke Laverna. {40} Then, when the time came for the suppliant to be delivered, Laverna would bear her in sleep during the night to her temple, and after the birth cast her into slumber again, and carry her back to her bed. And when she awoke in the morning she was ever in vigorous health and felt no weariness, and all seemed to her as a dream.

“But to those who desired in time to reclaim their children Laverna was indulgent, if they led such lives as pleased her and faithfully worshipped her. And this is the manner of the ceremony and the incantation to be offered to Laverna every night:

“There must be a set place devoted to the goddess, be it a room, a cellar, or a grove, ever a solitary place. Then take a small table of the size of forty playing-cards set close together, and this must be hid in the same place, and going there at night. . . .

“Take the forty cards and spread them on the table, making of them, as it were, a close carpet on it. Take of the herbs _paura_ {41a} and _concordia_ and boil the two together, repeating meanwhile:

“‘Fo bollire la mano della concordia, Per tenere a me concorde. La Laverna, che possa portare a me Il mio figlio e che possa Guardarmelo da qual un pericolo!

“‘Bollo questa erba ma non bollo l’erba. Bollo la _paura_ {41b} che possa tenere lontano Qualunque persona, e se le viene, L’idea a qualchuno di avvicinarsi, Possa essere preso da paura, E fuggire lontano!’”

“I boil the cluster of _concordia_ To keep in concord and at peace with me Laverna, that she may restore to me My child, and that she, by her favouring care, May guard me well from danger all my life!

“I boil this herb, yet ’tis not it which boils; I boil the _fear_ that it may keep afar Any intruder, and if such should come [To spy upon my rite], may he be struck With fear, and in his terror haste away!”

“Having said this, put the boiled herbs in a bottle, and spread the cards on the table, one by one, saying:

“‘Batezzo queste quarante carte Ma non batezzo le quarante carte. Batezzo quaranta dei superiori Alla dea Laverna che le sue Persone divengono un vulcano Fino che la Laverna non sara Venuta da me colla mia creatura. E questi dei dal naso dalla bocca, E dall’ orecchie possino buttare Fiammi di fuoco e cenere, E lasciare pace e bene alia dea Laverna, che possa anche essa Abbracciare i suoi figli, A sua volunta!’”

“I spread before me now the forty cards, Yet ’tis not forty cards which here I spread, But forty of the gods superior To the deity Laverna, that their forms May each and all become volcanoes hot, Until Laverna comes and brings my child. And till ’tis done, may they all cast Hot flames of fire and coals from their lungs, And leave her in all peace and happiness, And still embrace her children at her will.”

* * * * *

The character of Virgil is here clearly enough only an introduction by the narrator, in order to make a Virgilian tale or narrative. But the incantation, which I believe to be _bonâ fide_ and ancient, is very curious and full of tradition. The daring to conjure the forty gods that they may suffer till they compel Laverna to yield is a very bold and original conception, but something like it is found very often in Italian witchcraft. It is of classic origin. In the witchcraft manufactured by the Church, which only dates from the last decade of the fifteenth century, it never occurs. The witches of Sprenger and Co. never lay any of the Trinity under a ban of torture till a desire is accomplished, nor are they ever even invoked.

_La femme comme il faut_, or “the only good woman,” is a very ungallant misogamic corner tavern sign once common in France. It represents a headless woman. Perhaps she was derived from some story like this of Laverna. It recalls the inhuman saying: “The only good (Red) Indian is a dead Indian.”

Laverna is in this tale another form of Diana. There are also traces of Lucina in the character.

VIRGIL AND THE UGLY GIRL.

“Though her ugliness may scare, Money maketh all things fair.”

_Proverb_.

“_Gelt—wie lieb’ich Dich_.”—How truly I love thee! or, “Money—how I love thee!”—_German Jest_.

There was once in Rome an ugly young lady; yes, the ugliest on earth! And, as if this were not enough, she was ill-tempered and spiteful, and in his whole course the sun did not shine on a more treacherous being. She was a true devilkin, being as small as a dwarf. However, devil or not, she was worth millions, and had the luck to be betrothed to the handsomest young man in Rome, who was, indeed, poor.

One day a certain Countess said to Virgil:

“I cannot understand how it comes to pass that such a splendid fellow is allied to such a horrid little fright—_un tal spauracchio_!”

Virgil said nothing, but he went home and took two scorpions, and by his magic art turned them into gold, and of these he made two ear-rings and sent them to the Countess, who was delighted with them, and when Virgil asked her if she liked them, answered: “_Tanta_, _tanta_, _sono molto belli_”—“Very much, they are so beautiful!”

“You said to me a little while ago,” replied Virgil, “that you did not see what the handsomest man in Rome finds to admire in the ugliest girl. It is gold, Signora Contessa, which does it all—gold which makes scorpions so charming that you wear them in your ears, and call them beautiful!”

The Countess laughed, and said: “Thou speakest truth—

“‘Gold like the sun turns darkness to night, And fear or hatred to love and delight. Gold makes raptures out of alarms, Gold turns horror to beautiful charms, And gives the beauty of youth to the old. On earth there’s no magic like that of gold.’”

VIRGIL AND THE GEM.

SHOWING HOW VIRGIL BY HIS ART DROVE ALL THE FLIES OUT OF ROME.

“Cil une mouche d’arain fist, Que toutes mouches qui estoient. Celle approchier ne povoient.”

RENARS CONTREFAIS, A.D. 1318.

“Et fist une mousche d’arain, De quoi encor le pris et ain. A Naples cele mousche mist Et de tel maniere la fist, Que tant com la mousche fu la Mousche dedenz Naples n’entra, Mais je ne sai que puis devint, La mousche, ne qu’il en avint.”

ADENÈS LI ROIS: _Roman de Cleomadès_. _XIIIth Century_.

“There were at that time near the city many swamps, in consequence of which were swarms of _flies_, which caused death. And VIRGIL . . . made a fly of gold, as large as a frog, by virtue of which all the flies left the city.”—_La Cronaca di Partenope_, 1350.

“Trovasi chi egli fece una moscha di rame, che dove la posa niuna moscha apariva mai presso a due saettate che incontanente non morissi.”

ANTONIO PUCCI, _XIVth Century_.

Once there came to the Emperor a merchant with many gems and jewels, and begged him to purchase some.

The Emperor asked of Virgil, who was present:

“Which is the very best of all these stones?”

Virgil replied:

“Let them all remain for a time in the light of the sun, and I will tell you which is the gem of them all.”

This was done, and after a time a fly alighted on one.

“This is the gem of greatest value,” said Virgil.

“But it is really hardly worth a crown,” replied the merchant.

“And yet it is worth all the rest put together,” answered Virgil; “for it increases marvellously the intellect or understanding, and thereby one can win with it the love of whom he will.”

“Very well,” said the Emperor, “I will buy it, and find by experience whether it can increase wit whereby we gain hearts.”

He did so, and finding that the stone had the virtue which Virgil ascribed to it, said to the sage one day:

“How was it that thou didst find out and understand the value of that gem?”

“I knew it, because I saw that there was in the stone a very small fly (_moschettina_—gnat), and I knew that flies are very quick and gay, and have great cleverness, as anyone can see if he tries to catch them, and they make love all the time.”

“Truly thou art a devil, oh Virgil,” replied the Emperor; “and for reward I hereby make thee Emperor or Pope over all the flies. There are, by the way, far too many of them, and a perfect plague—they spoil all the meat in the shops. I would that thou couldst banish all thy subjects from Rome.”

“I will do it,” answered Virgil.

Then, by his magic, he summoned the Great Fly—Il Moscone, the King of all the Flies—and said to him:

“Thy subjects are far too many, and a sore plague to all mankind. I desire that thou wilt drive them all out of Rome.”

“I will do it,” replied the Moscone, “if thou wilt make a fly of gold as large as a great frog, and put it in my honour in the Church of Saint Peter. After which, there will no more flies be seen in Rome.”

Then Virgil went to the Emperor and told him what Il Moscone had said, and the Emperor commanded that the fly should be made of many pounds of gold, and it was placed in the Church of Saint Peter, and so long as it remained there no fly was ever seen within the walls of Rome.

* * * * *

I have another version of what is partially the same story, but with a curious addition, which is of greater antiquity and most unconsciously really Virgilian, or the old tale of the bull’s hide.

THE FLIES IN ROME.

It happened one summer in Rome that people were sadly afflicted with flies. Nothing like it had ever been seen; they swarmed by millions everywhere, they blackened the walls, the meat on the butchers’ stands was hidden under masses of them. And the poor suffered in their children, many of whom died, while all kinds of food was poisoned and corrupted everywhere. Then the Emperor said to Virgil:

“Truly, if thou hast indeed the art of conjuring, now is the time to show it, by conjuring away this curse, for I verily believe that all the flies of Egypt are come here to Rome.”

Virgil replied:

“If thou wilt give me so much land as I can enclose in an ox’s hide, I will drive all the flies away from Rome.”

The Emperor was well pleased to get so much for so small a price, as it seemed to him, and promised that he should truly have as much land as could be enclosed or covered {46} in the skin of an ox.

Virgil summoned Il Moscone, the King of the Flies, and said to him:

“I wish that all flies in Rome leave the city this very day!”

Il Moscone, the King of the Flies, replied:

“Cause me to become by magic a great fly of gold, and then put me in the Church of Saint Peter, and after that there will be no more insects in the city.”

Then Virgil conjured him into the form of a fly of gold, and it was placed in the church, and at that instant all the flies left Rome. At which the Emperor was well pleased.

Then the Emperor asked Virgil where the land lay which was to be taken in the ox-hide.

“Come to-morrow and you shall see,” answered the sage.

So the Emperor came with all his Court, and found Virgil mounted on horseback, bearing a great bundle of leather cord, like shoe-strings, and this had been made from the skin of the ox. And beginning at one gate and letting fall the cord, he rode around the city until all Rome was surrounded.

“Your Highness will observe,” said Virgil, “that I have taken exactly as much land as could be enclosed in an ox’s hide, and as Rome stands on the ground, therefore all Rome is mine.”

“And what wilt thou take for this bit of earth—houses, people and all?” inquired the Emperor.

“I ask what to me is its full value, oh my Emperor, for I have long loved your beautiful niece! Give her to me with one hundred thousand crowns in gold, and I will restore to you your city.”

The Emperor was well pleased to grant this, and so it came to pass that all Rome was bought and sold in one day for a purse and a princess, or for a woman and one hundred thousand crowns.

* * * * *

It will be observed by many readers that in the first tale here narrated there are combined two of the older Virgilian legends, one being that of the Gem which has within it a mysterious power, and which is thus told in “The Wonderful History of Virgil the Sorcerer.” {47}

“Soon after, the Emperor having his crown-jewels laid out before him, sent for Virgilius, and said: ‘Master, you know many things, and few are hid from your ken. Tell me now, if you be indeed a judge of gems, which think you is the best of these?’ The Emperor having pointed out one gem of peculiar brilliancy, Virgilius laid it, first in the palm of his hand, then to his ear, and said: ‘Sire, in this stone there is a worm.’ Forthwith the Emperor caused the stone to be sawn asunder, and lo, in the centre was found a worm concealed! Amazed at the sagacity of Virgilius, the Emperor, at the charge of the country, raised his allowance to a whole loaf per diem.”