The poor mother was in a great fright.
“Tell him, when you next meet him,” she answered, “that you forgot to give his message to me.”
The next day the boy met the magician, and said to him that he had forgotten all about it, and told his mother nothing.
“Very well, tell her this evening, and be sure to remember.”
The mother heard this, and bade him tell the sorcerer the same thing again.
When he met the magician Virgil again and told the same story, the latter smiled, and said:
“It seems that thou hast a bad memory. This time I will give thee something by which to remember me. Give me thy hand.”
The boy gave his hand; the magician bit into one finger, and as the child screamed, he said: “This time thou wilt remember.” The boy ran yelling home.
“See what has happened to me, brutta mammacia—you naughty mamma—because I did what you bade, and told the gentleman that I forgot.”
The poor woman, hearing herself called brutta mammacia, [143] was overcome with grief and shame, and said, “Vai bene—I will tell him myself.” So the next day she took the child and gave him to the magician, who led him to his home.