Pedro had been living as a servant in a doctor's house for more than nine years. He wanted very much to have a wife, but he had no business of any kind on which to support one.

One day he felt very sad. His look of dejection did not escape the notice of his master, who said, "What is the matter, my boy? Why do you look so sad? Is there anything I can do to comfort you?"

"Oh, yes!" said Pedro.

"What do you want me to do?" asked the doctor.

"Master," the man replied, "I want a wife, but I have no money to support one."

"Oh, don't worry about money!" replied his master. "Be ready to-morrow, and I will let you marry the woman you love."

The next day the wedding was held. The doctor let the couple live in a cottage not far from his hacienda, [58] and he gave them two hundred pieces of gold. When they received the money, they hardly knew what to do with it, as Pedro had never had any business of any sort. "What shall we do after we have spent all our money?" asked the wife. "Oh, we can ask the doctor for more," answered Pedro.

Years pa.s.sed by, and one day the couple had not even a cent with which to buy food. So Pedro went to the doctor and asked him for some money. The doctor, who had always been kind to them, gave him twenty pieces of gold; but these did not last very long, and it was not many days before the money was all spent. The husband and wife now thought of another way by which they could get money from the doctor.

Early one day Pedro went to the doctor's house weeping. He said that his wife had died, and that he had nothing with which to pay for her burial. (He had rubbed onion-juice on his eyes, so that he looked as if he were really crying.) When the doctor heard Pedro's story, he pitied the man, and said to him, "What was the matter with your wife? How long was she sick?" "For two days," answered Pedro.

"Two days!" exclaimed the doctor, "why did you not call me, then? We should have been able to save her. Well, take this money and see that she gets a decent burial."

Pedro returned home in good spirits. He found his wife Marta waiting for him at the door, and they were happy once more; but in a month the money was all used up, and they were on the point of starving again.

Now, the doctor had a married sister whom Pedro and his wife had worked for off and on after their marriage. Pedro told his wife to go to the doctor's sister, and tell her that he was dead and that she had no money to pay for the burial. Marta set out, as she was told; and when she arrived at the sister's house, the woman said to her, "Marta, why are you crying?"

"My husband is dead, and I have no money to pay for his burial,"

said Marta, weeping.

"You have served us well, so take this money and see that ma.s.ses are said for your husband's soul," said the kind-hearted mistress.

That evening the doctor visited his sister to see her son who was sick. The sister told him that Marta's husband had died. "No," answered the doctor, "it was Marta who died." They argued and argued, but could not agree; so they finally decided to send one of the doctor's servants to see which one was dead. When Pedro saw the servant coming, he told his wife to lie flat and stiff in the bed as if she were dead; and when the servant entered, Pedro showed him his dead wife.

The servant returned, and told the doctor and his sister that it was Marta who was dead; but the sister would not believe him, for she said that perhaps he was joking. So they sent another servant. This time Marta made Pedro lie down stiff and flat in the bed; and when the servant entered the house, he saw the man lying as if dead. So he hurried back and told the doctor and his sister what he had seen. Now neither knew what to believe. The next morning, therefore, the doctor and his sister together visited the cottage of Pedro. They found the couple both lying as if dead. After examining them, however, the doctor realized that they were merely feigning death. He was so pleased by the joke, and so glad to find his old servants alive, that he took them home with him and made them stay at his house.

Notes.

This droll seems to be derived from the "1001 Nights" (271st to 290th nights of the Breslau edition, "The Story of Abu-l-hasan the Wag, or the Sleeper Awakened"). The Arabian story is not only more detailed, but contains much preliminary matter that is altogether lacking in our story. In fact, the two are so dissimilar, except for the trick the husband and wife play on their benefactor to get more money, that it is hard to demonstrate a historical connection between the two.

I have in text and translation (the latter unpublished) a Tagalog metrical version of the Arabian story. This metrical version, which is told in 1240 lines, is ent.i.tled (in translation) "The Story of Abu-Hasan, Who dreamed when he was Awake. Poem by Franz Molteni. First edition, Manila." Although this work is not dated, it probably appeared after 1900. In general, the Tagalog poem agrees with the "1001 Nights"

story, though it differs in details. An a.n.a.lysis of the differences in the first part of the narratives need not concern us here, as our folk-tale is connected with only the last third of the romance.

In the metrical version, after Abu, through the favor of the sultan, has been married to Nuzhat, one of the ladies-in-waiting, the new couple begin to live extravagantly, and soon exhaust the dowry and wedding gifts. Then after much deliberation Abu decides to go to the sultan, tell him that Nuzhat his wife is dead, and ask for money for her burial. The ruse succeeds; Abu returns home with a thousand ounces of gold. He at once counsels his wife to go to the sultana with a similar story that he is dead and that money is needed for his funeral. Nuzhat, too, receives a thousand ounces from the sultana. The sultan now visits his wife, and tells her of the death of Nuzhat. She insists that it is Abu who is dead, and they argue violently about the matter. Finally the sultan decides to send one of his servants to report the truth. When Abu sees the servant coming, he bids his wife lie on the bier, and the servant is shown her corpse. He reports that it is Nuzhat who is dead. The sultana is enraged at the servant's statement, and sends her nurse for the truth. This time Abu lies on the bier, and Nuzhat shows his body to the nurse. When the old woman returns with her contradictory story, the sultan's servant calls her a black falsifying witch. At last the sultan and sultana themselves go to see. Both Abu and Nuzhat are found lying as if dead. The sultan and his wife now argue so violently as to which of their favorites died first, that the deceitful couple, fearful of the outcome, kneel before their rulers, confess the trick, and beg forgiveness. The royal pair laugh at the joke, and give Abu and his wife enough to support them the rest of their days.

The last part of the Arabian story is substantially as given above, only Nuzhat goes first to the sultana with the account of Abu's death, after which Abu visits the sultan and tells him of Nuzhat's death. Then follows the quarrel between the sultan and his wife over the contradictory reports brought back by the two messengers. All four go in person to discover the truth. Both Nuzhat and Abu are found dead. Sultan: "I would give a thousand pieces of gold to know which died first." Abu jumps up, says that he died first, and claims the reward. Ending as above.

This story of Abu is also told as a folk-tale in Simla, northern India (Dracott, 166-173), where it retains the Arabic t.i.tle, "Abul Hussain,"

and is almost identical with the "1001 Nights" version. In the Simla tale, however, the despatching of servants to learn which one is really dead is lacking. The sultan and his wife together go to Abul's house, and find both dead. "If we could only find out which died first!" etc.

Our story, the Tagalog folk-tale, is told almost as an anecdote. The sultan has been transformed into a doctor; the sultana, into the doctor's sister; Abu, into a poor servant, Pedro; and Nuzhat, into Marta. The glitter of the Oriental harem has vanished, as indeed has also the first two-thirds of the story. The descent in setting and language has been so great, that I am inclined to suspect that this droll has existed--at least, in one family--for a long time. It could hardly have been derived from Molteni's poetic version. For the same sort of relationship between another folk-tale and an "Arabian Nights"

story, see No. 13 and the notes.

TALE 17

THE THREE BROTHERS.

Narrated by Gregorio Frondoso, a Bicol from Tigaon, Camarines. The narrator says, "This story was told to me by an old man who happened to stay at our house one night. He was a traveller. I was then a little boy."

Once upon a time, when wishing was having, there dwelt in the joyous village of Delight a poor farmer, Tetong, with his loving wife Maria. His earning for a day's toil was just enough to sustain them; yet they were peaceful and happy. Nevertheless they thought that their happiness could not be complete unless they had at least one child. So morning and night they would kneel before their rustic altar and pray G.o.d to grant them their desire. As they were faithful in their purpose, their wish was fulfilled. A son was born to them, and joy filled their hearts. The couple's love for their child grew so intense, that they craved for another, and then for still another. The Lord was mindful of their prayers; and so, as time went on, two more sons were born to them. The second son they named Felipe; and the youngest, Juan. The name of the oldest was Pedro. All three boys were lovely and handsome, and they greatly delighted their parents.

In the course of time, however, when they were about eight, seven, and six years old, Pedro, Felipe, and Juan became monstrously great eaters. Each would eat at a single meal six or seven chupas [59]

of rice: consequently their father was obliged to work very hard, for he had five mouths to feed. In this state of affairs, Tetong felt that, although these children had been born to him and his wife as an increase of their happiness, they would finally exhaust what little he had. Nor was Maria any the less aware of the gluttony of her sons. By degrees their love for their sons ripened into hatred, and at last Tetong resolved to do away with his children.

One night, while he and his wife were sitting before their dim light and their three sons were asleep, Tetong said to his wife, "Do you not think it would be better to get rid of our sons? As you see, we are daily becoming poorer and poorer because of them. I have decided to cast them away into some distant wild forest, where they may feed themselves on fruits or roots."

On hearing these words of her husband, Maria turned pale: her blood ran cold in her veins. But what could she do? She felt the same distress as her husband. After a few moments of silence, she replied in a faltering voice, "My husband, you may do as you wish." Accordingly Tetong made ready the necessary provisions for the journey, which consisted of a sack of rice and some preserved fish.

The next morning, on the pretext of planting camotes [60] and corn on the hill some thirty miles away from the village, he ordered his sons to accompany him. When they came to a forest, their father led them through a circuitous path, and at last took them to the hill. As soon as they arrived there, each set to work: one cut down trees, another built a shed, and the others cleared a piece of land in which to plant the camotes and corn.

After two weeks their provisions were almost used up. Tetong then called his sons together, and said to them, "My sons, we have very little to eat now. I am going to leave you for some days: I am going back to our village to get rice and fish. Be very good to one another, and continue working, for our camotes will soon have roots, and our corn ears." Having said these words, he blessed them and left.

Days, weeks, and months elapsed, but Tetong did not reappear. The corn bore ears, and the camotes produced big sound roots; but these were not sufficient to support the three brothers. Nor did they know the way back to their home. At last, realizing that their father and mother did not care for them any more, they agreed to wander about and look for food. They roved through woods, thickets, and jungles. At last, fatigued and with bodies tired and bruised, they came to a wide river, on the bank of which they stopped to rest. While they were bewailing their unhappy lot, they caught sight, on the other side of the river, of banana-trees with bunches of ripe fruit. They determined to get those fruits; but, as they knew nothing about swimming, they had to cut down bamboos and join them together to bridge the stream. So great was their hunger, that each ate three bunches of the ripe bananas. After they had satisfied their hunger, they continued on their way refreshed.

Soon they came upon a dark abyss. Curious to know what it might contain, the three brothers looked down into it, but they could not see the bottom. Not contented, however, with only seeing into the well, they decided to go to the very bottom: so they gathered vines and connected them into a rope.

Pedro was the first to make the attempt, but he could not stand the darkness. Then Felipe tried; but he too became frightened, and could not stay long in the dark. At last Juan's turn came. He went down to the very bottom of the abyss, where he found a vast plain covered with trees and bushes and shrubs. On one side he saw at a short distance a green house. He approached the house, and saw a most beautiful lady sitting at the door. When she saw him, she said to him in friendly tones, "Hail, Juan! I wonder at your coming, for no earthly creature has ever before been here. However, you are welcome to my house." With words of compliment Juan accepted her invitation, and entered the house. He was kindly received by that lady, Maria. They fell in love with each other, and she agreed to go with Juan to his home.

They had talked together but a short while, when Maria suddenly told Juan to hide, for her guardian, the giant, was coming. Soon the monster appeared, and said to Maria in a terrible voice, "You are concealing some one. I smell human flesh." She denied that she was, but the giant searched all corners of the house. At last Juan was found, and he boldly fought with the monster. He received many wounds, but they were easily healed by Maria's magic medicine. After a terrific struggle, the giant was killed. Maria applauded Juan's valor. She gave him food, and related stories to him while he was eating. She also told him of her neighbor Isabella, none the less beautiful than she. Juan, in turn, told her of many things in his own home that were not found in that subterranean plain.

When he had finished eating and had recovered his strength, Juan said that they had better take Isabella along with them too. Maria agreed to this. Accordingly Juan set out to get Isabella. When he came to her house, she was looking out the window. As soon as she saw him, she exclaimed in a friendly manner, "O Juan! what have you come here for? Since my birth I have never seen an earthly creature like you!"

"Madam," returned Juan in a low voice, "my appearance before you is due to some Invisible Being I cannot describe to you." The moment Isabella heard these words, she blushed. "Juan," she said, "come up!"

Juan entered, and related to her his unfortunate lot, and how he had found the abyss. Finally, struck with Isabella's fascinating beauty, Juan expressed his love for her. They had not been talking long together, when footsteps were heard approaching nearer and nearer. It was her guardian, the seven-headed monster. "Isabella," it growled, with an angry look about, "some human creature must be somewhere in the house."

"There is n.o.body in the house but me," she exclaimed. The monster, however, insisted. Seeking all about the house, it at last discovered Juan, who at once attacked with his sword. In this encounter he was also successful, cutting off all the seven heads of the monster.

With great joy Juan and Isabella returned to Maria's house. Then the three went to the foot of the well. There Juan found the vine still suspended. He tied one end of it around Isabella's waist, and then she was pulled up by the two brothers waiting above. When they saw her, Pedro and Felipe each claimed her, saying almost at the same time, "What a beauty! She is mine." Isabella a.s.sured them that there were other ladies below prettier than she. When he heard these words, Felipe dropped one end of the vine again. When Maria reached the top of the well, Felipe felt glad, and claimed her for himself. As the two brothers each had a maiden now, they would not drop the vine a third time; but finally Maria persuaded them to do so. On seeing only their brother's figure, however, the two unfeeling brothers let go of the vine, and Juan plunged back into the darkness. "O my friends!" said Maria, weeping, "this is not the way to treat a brother. Had it not been for him, we should not be here now." Then she took her magic comb, saying to it, "Comb, if you find Juan dead, revive him; if his legs and arms are broken, restore them." Then she dropped it down the well.

By means of this magic comb, Juan was brought back to life. The moment he was able to move his limbs, he groped his way in the dark, and finally he found himself in the same subterranean plain again. As he knew of no way to get back to earth, he made up his mind to accept his fate.

As he was lazily strolling about, he came to a leafy tree with spreading branches. He climbed up to take a siesta among its fresh branches. Just as he closed his eyes, he heard a voice calling, "Juan, Juan! Wake up! Go to the Land of the Pilgrims, for there your lot awaits you." He opened his eyes and looked about him, but he saw nothing. "It is only a bird," he said, "that is disturbing my sleep." So he shut his eyes again. After some moments the same voice was heard again from the top of the tree. He looked up, but he could not see any one. However, the voice continued calling to him so loudly, that he could not sleep. So he descended from the tree to find that land.

In his wanderings he met an old man wearing very ragged, worn-out clothes. Juan asked him about the Land of the Pilgrims. The old man said to him, "Here, take this piece of cloth, which, as you see, I have torn off my garment, and show it to a hermit you will find living at a little distance from here. Then tell him your wish." Juan took the cloth and went to the hermit. When the hermit saw Juan entering his courtyard without permission, he was very angry. "Hermit," said Juan, "I have come here on a very important mission. While I was sleeping among the branches of a tree, a bird sang to me repeatedly that I must go to the Land of the Pilgrims, where my lot awaits me. I resolved to look for this land. On my way I met an old man, who gave me this piece of cloth and told me to show it to you and ask you about this place I have mentioned." When the hermit saw the cloth, his anger was turned into sorrow and kindness. "Juan," he said, "I have been here a long time, but I have never seen that old man."