It will be noticed that the last episode is almost identical with the ending of our story “The Devil and the Guachinango,” while there is a considerable amount of divergence between the two elsewhere.
For versions collected before 1860 I am indebted to Benfey’s treatment of this cycle. It is found in his “Pantschatantra,” 1 : 519 ff. I take the liberty of summarizing it in this place, first, because it is the only exhaustive handling of the story I know of; and, second, because Benfey’s brilliant work, while constantly referred to and quoted, has long been out of print, and has never been accessible in English.
The occasion for Benfey’s dissertation on this particular tale is the relationship he sees between it and the large family of stories turning on the motive of a marvellous cure, a representative of which is “Pantschatantra,” 5 : 12, “The Miraculous Cure of a Blind Man, a Humpback, and a Three-breasted Princess.”[7] While the story we are discussing cannot be considered in any sense an offshoot of the Pantschatantra tale, it can scarcely be denied, says Benfey, that between the two there is a definite internal relationship, which is further manifested by the fact that in its later development the latter is actually joined to the former (p. 519).
The earliest form of our story is found in the “Cukasaptati,” where it is told as the story for the 45th and 46th nights. In this version,—
A Brahman, driven away from home by the malice of his wife, is befriended by a demon who had formerly lived in the Brahman’s house, but who had also fled in fear from her shrewish tongue. The demon enters the body of a princess; and the Brahman, appearing as a conjurer, forces him to leave, in accordance with their pact, and wins half a kingdom and the hand of the princess. The demon now goes to another city where he possesses the queen, an aunt of the Brahman’s new father-in-law. The Brahman, whose reputation as an enchanter has become great, is summoned to cure this queen. When he arrives, the demon threatens and insults him, refusing to leave the queen because they are now quits. The Brahman, however, whispers in the woman’s ear, “My wife is coming here close on my heels, I have come only to warn you;” whereupon the demon, terror-stricken, at once leaves the queen. The Brahman is highly honored.
Benfey conjectures that this story must have passed over into the Persian redaction of the “Cukasaptati” (i.e., the “Tūtī-nāmeh”), but what changes it underwent in the transmission cannot yet be determined. The earliest European form of the tale is that found in the Turkish “Forty Vezirs” (trans. by Behrnauer, p. 277).
Here a young wood-cutter saves money to buy a rope; but his shrewish wife, thinking that he is going to spend it on a sweetheart, insists on accompanying him to his work in the mountains, so that she can keep him under her eye. In the mountains the husband decides to abandon his wife in a well. He tells her to hold a rope while he descends to fetch a treasure which he pretends is concealed at the bottom; but she is so avaricious, that she insists on being let down first. Then he drops the rope, and returns home free. A few days later, conscience-smitten, he goes back to rescue his wife, and, lowering another rope, he calls to her that he will draw her up; but he hauls a demon to the surface instead. The demon thanks the wood-cutter for rescuing him from a malicious woman “who some days ago descended, and has made my life unbearable ever since.” As in the Cukasaptati story, the demon enters a princess and makes her insane, and the wood-cutter cures her and marries her. Then the demon enters another princess. The wood-cutter is summoned; he has to resort to the well-known trick to force the imp to leave this second maiden.
In the Persian form of this story, in the “1001 Days” (Prenzlau ed.), 11 : 247, is added the death-penalty in case the hero fails to perform the second cure, which consists in persuading the spirit, in the form of a snake, to unwind itself from the body of the vezir’s daughter. The hero had already cured the sultan’s daughter and married her.
A Serbian story (Wuk, No. 37) is closer to the “Forty Vezirs” version than is the “1001 Days.” The only essential difference is that the opening of the Serbian tale is the well-known fabliau of the “Meadow that was mowed.”
Here the wife falls into a pit. When the husband attempts to draw her out again, a devil appears. The devil is thankful; and, to reward the man, it enters the body of the emperor’s daughter. Here the hero appears, not as an enchanter, but as a physician.