In a somewhat analogous story, which he calls ‘Aventures du Gourou Paramarta,’ one of the disciples commits the counting mistake ‘of the well-known Irishman,’ in omitting to reckon himself in his computation, also found in the Russian ‘Folk Tales,’ p. 54, and they go to buy a foal’s egg, just as do certain peasants of the Trentino in an Italian-Tirolese ‘storiella da rider’[7] (laughable story).]
LA SPOSA CECE.
2
Another version of this story was told me, or rather an entirely different story embodying the same purport, which, though full of fun, turned on the double meanings of common words of household use too homely for the most part, and some too coarse to please the English reader. The husband, among other things, tells his wife to prepare dinner for a friend and to mind she has ‘brocoli strascinati’ and ‘uovi spersi,’[8] as they are his favourite dishes. ‘Strascinare’ is to drag anything along, but is technically used to express brocoli chopped up and fried, the commonest Roman dish. ‘Spergere’ is to scatter, but the word is used among common people to express eggs poached in broth, a favourite delicacy; (eggs poached as in England are called ‘uova in bianco’). The wife, taking the words literally, drags the brocoli all over the house and all over the yard, till it is so nasty it cannot be eaten, instead of frying it, and scatters the eggs all about the place instead of poaching them, and so on through a number of other absurdities difficult to explain in detail. In the end the husband falls ill, partly from her bad cooking and partly from annoyance; a doctor is called in, who tells her (among other directions which she similarly misunderstands), that he must have nothing but ‘brodo,’[9] but she is to make it ‘alto, alto.’ ‘Alto’ is literally ‘high,’ but he uses it for ‘good,’ ‘strong;’ she, however, understands him to mean her to make it in a high place, and goes up on the roof to make it. When the husband asks for it she says she cannot get it for him then as it is up on the roof.
Ultimately the husband dies of vexation.
There is a very familiar German story which everyone who has any acquaintance with the people must have met, of a lady who complains to her servant that the tea has not ‘drawn,’ and the simple girl answers, ‘It is not my fault, I have drawn it all about the place enough I’m sure’ (Ich hab’ es genug umhergezogen).
[1] ‘La Sposa Cece,’ the simple wife. ‘Cece’ among the common people seems to mean pretty nearly the same as ‘tonto,’ ‘silly,’ ‘idiotic;’ in this place more exactly ‘simple’ or ‘half-witted.’ [↑]
[2] It is a characteristic of the Roman people that as a rule they never call people by their names; the ‘casato’ or married name, and the ‘cognome’ or family name, are used indifferently when such a name is called in request at all, by married people. If they must give a name to a stranger it is always the Christian name that comes first to their lips; among themselves, however, it is seldom the genuine name that is used. They have some ‘sopranome’ or nick-name for everybody, or at least a shortening of the Christian name, as ‘Checca’ and ‘Checco’ for Francesca and Francesco; ‘Pippo’ for Filippo; ‘Pepe’ for Giuseppe; ‘Cola’ for Niccola; ‘Maso’ for Tomaso; ‘Teta’ for Teresa; ‘Lalla’ for Adelaide; ‘Lina’ for Carolina; ‘Tuta’ for Geltrude; the abbreviations for Giovanni are innumerable.