‘Stop, and you shall hear what I did with them,’ she would reply.
| Uno lo dava al gallo | One I gave to the cock |
| Che mi portava a cavallo, | Who carried me on his back,[6] |
| Una a la gallina | And one to the hen |
| Che m’ insegnò la via. | Who showed me the way, |
| Uno al porco | And one to the pig |
| Che m’ insegnò la porta. | Who pointed out the door; |
| Uno ne mangiai, | One I ate myself, |
| E uno ne misse là, | And one I put by there, |
| Che ancora ci sarà. | Where no doubt it still remains. |
And she used to point as she spoke at an old glass cabinet, where I would go and rummage, always expecting to find the sweetmeat, till one day, getting convinced it had no existence, I got very angry, and threw a big key at one of the panes and broke it, and she never would tell me that story any more.]
[1] ‘Il vaso di persa.’ Marjoram goes by the name of ‘persa’ in the vernacular of Rome. Parsley, which sounds the more literal translation, is ‘erbetta.’ I think the narrator believed it to be connected with Persia. [↑]
[2] ‘Fata’ is a powerful enchantress. I know no English equivalent but ‘fairy,’ though there is this difference that a ‘fata’ is by no means invariably an airy and beautiful being; she more often wears a very ordinary appearance, and not unfrequently that of a very old wrinkled woman, but is always goodnatured and benevolent, as distinguished from the malevolent ‘strega,’ a nearer counterpart of our ‘witch.’ [↑]
[3] ‘Le femmine sempre pigliano il peggio.’ [↑]
[4] ‘Non tutto il male vien’ per nuocere.’ [↑]
[5] ‘Orgo,’ the vernacular form of the classic ‘Orco,’ is the Italian equivalent for ‘Old Bogey;’ but it is also used in place of ‘orso,’ a bear (as in the precise instance of this tale being told to me), when it is desired to give terror to his character in a tale. [↑]
[6] Has this anything to do with ‘riding the cock-horse’? [↑]