Roman Legends: A collection of the fables and folk-lore of Rome. Rachel Harriette Busk
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’? ↑
THE POT OF RUE. 1
They say there was once a rich merchant who had three daughters. Two of them were very gay and fond of dancing and theatres, but the youngest was very stay-at-home and scarcely ever went beyond the garden.
One day when the father was going abroad to buy merchandise, he asked his three daughters what he should bring them home. The two eldest asked for all manner of dresses and ornaments, but the youngest asked only for a pot of rue.
‘That’s a funny fancy,’ said the father, ‘but an easy one to satisfy at all events; so be sure you shall have it.’
‘Not so easy, perhaps, as you think,’ replied the maiden; ‘only now you have promised it, mind you bring it, as you will find you will not be able to get home unless you bring it with you.’
The father did not pay much heed to her words, but went to a far country, bought his merchandise, taking care to include the fine clothes and jewels for his two eldest daughters, and, forgetting about the pot of rue, set out to come home.
They were scarcely a day’s journey out at sea when the ship stood quite still, nor was the captain able by any means to govern it, for neither sail nor oar would move it an inch.
‘Some one on board has an unfulfilled promise on him,’ declared the captain; and he called upon whoever it was to come forward and own it, that he might be thrown overboard, and that the lives of all the passengers and crew should not be put in jeopardy by his fault.
Then the merchant came forward and said it was true he had forgotten to bring with him something he had promised to his little daughter, but that it was so slight a matter he did not think it could be that which was stopping the ship.
As no one else had anything of the sort to accuse themselves of, the captain judged that it was indeed the merchant’s fault that had stopped the ship; only, as he was such a great merchant and a frequent trader by his vessel, he agreed to put back with him instead of throwing him overboard. He first, however, asked—
‘And what may the thing be that you have to take to your daughter?’
‘Nothing but a pot of rue,’ replied the merchant.
‘A pot of rue!’ answered the captain; ‘that is no easy matter. In the whole country there is no one has a plant of it but the king, and he is so choice over it that he has decreed that if anyone venture to ask him only for a single leaf he shall instantly be put to death.’
‘That is bad hearing,’ said the merchant. ‘Nevertheless, as I have promised to get it I must make the trial, and if I perish in the attempt I might have had a worse death.’
So they landed the merchant, and he went straight up to the king’s palace.
‘Majesty!’ he said, throwing himself on his knees before the throne. ‘It is in no spirit of wantonness I break the decree which forbids the asking a single leaf of the precious plant of rue. A promise was on me before I knew the king’s decree, and I am bound thereby to ask not merely a single leaf but the whole plant, of the king, even though it be at peril of my life.’
Then said the king—
‘To whom hadst thou made this promise?’
And the merchant made answer—
‘Though it was only to my youngest daughter I made the promise, yet having made it, I will not leave off from asking for it.’
Then the king answered—
‘Because thou hast been faithful to thy promise, and courageous in risking thy life rather than to break thy word, behold I give the whole plant at thy desire; and this without breaking my royal decree. For my decree said that whoso desired a single leaf should be put to death, but in that thou hast asked the whole plant thou hast shown a courage worthy of reward.’
So he took the plant of rue and gave it to the merchant to give to his daughter; moreover, he bade him tell her that she should every night burn a leaf of the plant. With that he dismissed him.
The merchant returned home and distributed the presents he had brought to his daughters, and not more pleased were the elder ones with their fine gifts than was the younger with her simple pot of rue. In the evening they went with their father to the ball as usual, but the youngest staid at home as she was wont to do, and this night she burnt a leaf of the rue as the king had bidden her. But the king had three beautiful sons, and no sooner had she burnt the rue leaf than the eldest son of the king appeared before her, and sitting beside her, said so many kind things that no evening had ever passed so pleasantly. This she did every evening as the king had bidden.
But the