"Where?" asked Don Pedro.

"Behind me," replied Don Juan.

When Don Pedro and Don Diego saw the monkey, they were very much surprised. "Oh!" exclaimed Don Pedro, "what happened to you? Did you lose your head?"

Don Juan could say nothing to this question. At last, however, he broke out, "Let us go home! Our father must be waiting for us." So saying, Don Juan turned around and began the journey. Don Pedro and Don Diego, together with their wives, followed Don Juan. Chonguita walked by her husband's side.

When the return of the three brothers was announced to the king, the monarch hastened to meet them on the stairs. Upon learning that one of his sons had married a monkey, the king fainted; but after he had recovered his senses, he said to himself, "This misfortune is G.o.d's will. I must therefore bear it with patience." The king then a.s.signed a house to each couple to live in.

But the more the king thought of it, the greater appeared to be the disgrace that his youngest son had brought on the family. So one day he called his three sons together, and said to them, "Tell your wives that I want each one of them to make me an embroidered coat. The one who falls to do this within three days will be put to death." Now, the king issued this order in the hope that Chonguita would be put to death, because he thought that she would not be able to make the coat; but his hope was disappointed. On the third day his daughters-in-law presented to him the coats that they had made, and the one embroidered by Chonguita was the prettiest of all.

Still anxious to get rid of the monkey-wife, the king next ordered his daughters-in-law to embroider a cap for him in two days, under penalty of death in case of failure. The caps were all done on time.

At last, thinking of no other way by which he could accomplish his end, the king summoned his three daughters-in-law, and said, "The husband of the one who shall be able to draw the prettiest picture on the walls of my chamber within three days shall succeed me on the throne." At the end of the three days the pictures were finished. When the king went to inspect them, he found that Chonguita's was by far the prettiest, and so Don Juan was crowned king.

A great feast was held in the palace in honor of the new king. In the midst of the festivities Don Juan became very angry with his wife for insisting that he dance with her, and he hurled her against the wall. At this brutal action the hall suddenly became dark; but after a while it became bright again, and Chonguita had been transformed into a beautiful woman.

Notes.

A Visayan variant of this story, though differing from it in many details, is the story of the "Three Brothers," printed in JAFL 20 : 91-93.

A number of Indian Marchen seem to be related more or less closely to our story. Benfey cites one (1 : 261) which appears in the "Asiatic Journal" for 1833.

Some princes are to obtain their wives by this device: each is to shoot an arrow; and where the arrow strikes, there will each find his bride. The arrow of the youngest hits a tamarind-tree; he is married to it, but his bride turns out to be a female monkey. However, he lives happily with her, but she never appears at his father's court. The sisters-in-law are curious to know what kind of wife he has. They persuade the father-in-law to give a least for all his sons'

wives. The prince is grieved over the fact that the secret will come out. Then his wife comforts him; she lays off her monkey covering, and appears as a marvellously beautiful maiden. She enjoins him to preserve the monkey-skin carefully, since otherwise great danger threatens her; but he, in order to keep her in her present beautiful human form, burns the hide while she is at the feast. She disappears instantly. The prince seeks her again, and at last discovers her in heaven as the queen of the monkeys. There he remains with her.

In a Simla tale, "The Story of Ghose" (Dracott, 40 f.), the animal is a squirrel, which is finally changed by the G.o.d Mahadeo into a human being, after the little creature has performed many services for her husband. Somewhat a.n.a.logous, also, is Maive Stokes, "The Monkey Prince"

(No. x, p. 41 ff.). Compare also the notes to our No. 19 and Benfey's entire discussion of "The Enchanted Son of the Brahman" (1 : 254-269).

These forms are not close enough to our version, however, to justify our tracing it directly to any one of them. Both it and the Visayan variant are members of the European cycle of tales represented by Grimm's "Three Feathers" (No. 63). The skeleton outline of this family group Bolte and Polivka construct as follows (2 : 37):--

A father wishes to test the skill of his three sons (or their wives), and requests that they produce extraordinary or costly articles. The despised youngest son wins the reward with the help of an enchanted princess in the form of a cat, rat, frog, lizard, monkey, or as a doll, or night-cap, or stocking. At last she regains her human form. The disenchantment is sometimes accomplished by a kiss, or by beheading, or by the hero's enduring for three nights in silence the blows of spirits.

In only two of the variants cited by Bolte-Polivka (to Grimm, No. 63) is the animal wife a monkey,--Comparetti, No. 58, "Le Scimmie;"

and Von Hahn, No. 67, "Die Aeffin." Of these, only the Greek story resembles our tale; but here the similarities are so many, that I will summarize briefly the main points of Von Hahn's version:--

An old king once called his three sons to him, and said, "My sons, I am old; I should like to have you married, so that I may celebrate your wedding with you before I die. Therefore each of you are to shoot an arrow into the air, and to follow its course, for there each will find what is appointed for him." The eldest shot first: his arrow carried him to a king's daughter, whom he married. The second obtained a prince's daughter. But the arrow of the third stuck in a dung-hill. He dug a hole in it, and came to a marble slab, which, when raised, disclosed a flight of stairs leading down. Courageously he descended, and came to a cellar in which a lot of monkeys were sitting in a circle. The mother of the monkeys approached him, and asked him what he wanted. He answered, that, according to the flight of his arrow, he was destined to have a monkey-wife. "Choose one for yourself,"

she said. "Here sit my maids; there, my daughters." He selected one, and took her back to his father. His brothers, however, ridiculed him.

After a time the eldest son asked the king to divide up his kingdom, as he was already old and was likely to die. "I'll give you three tasks," said the king to his sons. "The one who performs them best shall be king." The first count was to be won by the son whose house forty days thence was cleanest and most beautifully adorned. The youngest son was very sad when inspection-time approached. "Why so sad?" said his wife. He told her; and she said to him on the morning of the last day, "Go to my mother, and ask her for a hazel-nut and an almond." He did so. When the time for inspection arrived, the monkey-wife cracked the hazel-nut and drew from it a diamond covering for the whole house. From the almond she drew a very beautiful carpet for the king to walk on. Youngest son won the first count, naturally. The second task was to furnish the king with fresh fruits in the winter-time. The two oldest sons were unable to get any, but the youngest son got a fine supply from the monkeys' garden under the dunghill. The third count was to be won by the son whose wife should be declared the most beautiful at a feast to be given ten days thence. The monkey-wife sent her husband again for an almond, a hazel-nut, two stallions, and five servants. When he returned with them, she cracked the almond and drew from it a magnificent dress for herself. From the hazelnut she drew her own beauty, and handsome equipment for her husband. When she was arrayed, she rode into the courtyard of the king, and tried to escape without being recognized; but the king was too quick for her: she was caught, and her husband was declared the final winner. He became king when his father died.

This Greek story can hardly have any immediate relationship with "Chonguita," though it does appear in its first half to be connected with the 1833 Indian Marchen given above. Our story, it will be noticed, lacks the shooting of arrows, so characteristic of the European forms; it mentions the monkey-kingdom to which the youngest prince was directed by an old man, and where Chonguita is forced on him; it represents the king as requiring his daughters-in-law to perform difficult tasks because he wishes to find an excuse for putting to death the animal-wife. Moreover, the three tasks themselves are different, although the first two are reminiscent of some found in the Occidental versions. For the third I know of no folk-tale parallel. On the whole, I am p.r.o.ne to believe that our story was not imported from Europe, but that it belongs to an Oriental branch of the family.

The disenchantment of the monkey-wife by hurling her in anger against the wall is exactly like the disenchantment of the frog-prince in Grimm, No. 1. This conceit is most unusual, and, it might be added, unreasonable. Hence this ident.i.ty of detail in two stories so far removed in every other way is particularly striking. I know of no further occurrences of the incident.

TALE 30

THE GOLDEN LOCK.

Narrated by Vicente Hilario of Batangas, Batangas, who heard the story from an old man (now deceased) from the barrio of Balayan.

Long ago there lived in a distant kingdom an influential n.o.ble named Ludovico, who vastly increased his wealth by his marriage to a rich heiress called Clotilde. During the first ten years of their union she had never peeped out of her window or stirred out of her room: she only walked to the door of her chamber to bid farewell to her husband or to receive his parting kiss when he was off to attend to his official business, and to meet him with a tender embrace when he returned. n.o.body else but Ludovico and her chaperon could see or talk with her: to these two persons only did Clotilde reveal her secrets and convey the thoughts of her spotless soul. She spent her time in voluntary seclusion, not in the luxuries of the court or the gaieties of society, but in embroidery, knitting, and in the unnecessary embellishment of her extremely lovely person.

But an incident now happened that seriously threatened to destroy the foundations of their blissful union, for there may be eddies and counter-currents in the steady and swift flow of a stream. The king invited all the n.o.bles in the land to a sumptuous banquet to be given in one of the princ.i.p.al frontier cities. Ludovico was among the first persons to accept the king's invitation. When the luxurious repast was over, the guests gathered in groups around small tables in the adjoining grounds to while away the sultry hours and to discuss the questions of the day. One of these groups was composed of Ludovico and six other n.o.bles, among whom was a bold, sharp-tongued rich youth named Pio. The conversation touched on topics concerning the fair s.e.x, especially of women historically famous for their personal charms, virtues, and vices. The garrulous Pio ridiculed the n.o.ble constancy and other excellent traits of the fair Clotilde.

"I will bet you anything you want to bet, that you cannot learn the secrets of my wife in fifteen days," said Ludovico, his face flushed with wrath.

"All right," said Pio, exasperated by Ludovico's boast. "The loser shall be hanged. I will bet my life that I'll know the secrets of your wife within fifteen days."

The terms of the contract were carefully written down, solemnly ratified by the king, and signed by the two contestants and by the other high-born gentlemen.

Pio set out the next day for Ludovico's home town. The inexperienced youth looked in vain for Ludovico's residence. Finally he asked a jolly fellow, who showed him the house after a long roundabout conversation. Pio went upstairs, where he saw the gray-haired chaperon sitting alone in the s.p.a.cious hall, which was decorated to vie in magnificence with the most gorgeously furnished apartment of the king. The accomplished Pio doffed his bonnet to the old woman, and politely asked for her mistress.

"n.o.body but her husband and me is allowed to see her," said the ugly old hag.

Pio then sat down and began to talk to her. By his persuasive language and the magnetic touch of his hands he easily insinuated himself into her confidence. Then, dropping a piece of gold on her palm, he said, "Will you tell me the secrets of your mistress?"

The old woman looked at him suspiciously, but the brilliant coin proved too great a temptation for her. "Clotilde," she said, "has three golden [88] locks of hair under her left armpit. I know this fact, because I bathe her every day."

Pio heaved a deep groan and turned his face aside. After recovering himself, he dropped another gold-piece into the hand of the chaperon, and said, "Will you get one of those locks for me?"

She hesitated, but his eloquence was irresistible. "I'll give you the lock to-morrow," she said. Pio then departed, and she returned to her mistress.

Early the next morning, while the old woman was bathing Clotilde as usual, she pulled out one of Clotilde's golden locks. "Aray!" exclaimed Clotilde, "what's the matter with you?"

"Never mind, never mind!" said the old woman with many caresses. "This is the only reward I want for my many faithful services to you."

Ignorant of the treasonable intrigues of her chaperon, Clotilde said nothing more. Before noon Pio arrived. With trembling hands and pale cheeks, the old woman gave him the golden lock. She was amply rewarded with a purse of gold. Ignorant of the fatal consequences of her treacherous act, she gayly went back to Clotilde's private chamber.

Pio left the town late in the afternoon, and soon arrived at the capital. Ludovico was struck aghast at the sight of the golden lock. He at once wrote a letter to his wife which ran in part as follows:--

"I have spent ten years of my life in perfect happiness with you. I expected to enjoy such blissful days for a much longer period. But now everything is hopeless. My life shall be ended by violence, because of your faithlessness. We shall see each other no more. Receive the sad farewell of your Ludovico."

When Clotilde read this letter, she swooned. When she came to her senses, she awoke as from a trance. But when she beheld the letter again, she read again the opprobrious word "faithlessness" in her husband's handwriting. She did not know what act of disloyalty she had committed. She moved about in her room by fits and starts. At last a thought came to her mind: she sent for the best goldsmith in town, and told him to make her a gold slipper adorned with precious stones. Under her strict supervision the work was completed in a marvellously short time. Then she put on her best clothes and the precious slipper, and with all possible expedition set out for Ludovico.

Clotilde arrived in the city just a few minutes before the execution. She drove directly to the king's pavilion. Her only companion was the same old woman who had caused all this trouble. The turbulent persons who had gathered in the public square to witness the horrible spectacle were awed by the loveliness and magnificent attire of Clotilde. When she reached the king, and asked him for all the details concerning Ludovico's case, and when the king had given her all the information he could, she turned and pointed toward Pio, and said, "That man has stolen my other slipper which looks like this one I am wearing."

The king called Pio from the place where he was standing, and told him all about the fair lady's accusation. "I have not committed any crime against her," said Pio angrily. "I don't even know her. This is the first time I have ever seen her."

"Sir," said Clotilde sneeringly, "why, then, did you tell his Majesty and other persons that you have discovered my secrets? I am the wife of Ludovico, whose life you have threatened to end by your deceit. I know now by what means you got possession of my golden lock."

Clotilde's statement sealed Pio's fate. He was hanged in place of Ludovico, who deeply regretted having doubted his faithful wife. And what happened to the old woman, who preferred the gold of an impostor to the kindness of a virtuous woman? The hag was sentenced to spend the remainder of her life in a damp, dreary dungeon.