"'Ugh! ugh! ugh!' wailed the devil.

"'The roof is to be covered with the images of saints as pinnacles, and, by the way, wherever you have a blank s.p.a.ce, outside on the walls or inside, including ceilings-just cover it with the same subjects-the Temptation of Saint Antony or Saint-'

"'Oh, go to the devil with your saints and gold grounds!' roared the imp.

'Truly I have lost this game; fishing with a golden hook is a fool's business. There is the compact!'

"It was night-deep, dark night-there came a blinding flash of light-an awful crash of indescribable unearthly sound, like a thunder-voice. The imp, taking the form of a _civetta_ or small owl, vanished through the window in the storm-wind and rain, wailing, '_Mai finito_!'

"And it is said that to this day the small owl still perches by night on the roof of the palace, wailing wearily-'Unfinished! unfinished!'"

In no country in the world has unscrupulous vigorous intellect been so admired as in Italy, the land of the Borgias and Machiavellis. In the rest of Europe man finds a master in the devil; in Italy he aims at becoming the devil's master. This is developed boldly in the legend of "Intialo," to which I have devoted another chapter, and it appears as markedly in this. The idea of having an attendant demon, whom the master, in the consciousness of superior intellect, despises, knowing that he will crush him when he will, is not to be found, I believe, in a single German, French, or any other legend not Italian.

If this be so, it is a conception well deserving study, as ill.u.s.trating the subtle and powerful Italian intellect as it was first a.n.a.lysed by Macaulay, and is now popularly understood by such writers as Scaife. {96} It is indeed a most unholy and unchristian conception, since it is quite at war with the orthodox theology of the Church, as of Calvin and Luther, which makes the devil the grand master of mankind, and irresistible except where man is saved by a _special_ miracle or grace.

And it may also be noted from such traditions that folk-lore, when it shall have risen to a sense of its true dignity and power, will not limit itself to collecting variants of fairy tales to prove the routes of races over the earth, but rise to ill.u.s.trating the characteristic, and even the aesthetic, developments of different stocks. That we are now laying the basis for this is evident.

Though the devil dared not depict lives and legends of the saints upon the palace, he did not neglect to put his own ugly likeness there, repeated above the four front windows in a perfectly appalling Gothic style, which contrasts oddly with the later and severe character of the stately building. These faces are fiendish enough to have suggested the story.

It may here be mentioned that it was in the middle of the Borgo degli Albizzi, near this palace, that that indefatigable corpse-reviver and worker of miracles, San Zen.o.bio, raised from the dead the child of a n.o.ble and rich French lady. "Then in that place there was put a pillar of white marble in the middle of the street, as a token of a great miracle."

"_Haec fabula docet_-this fable teaches," adds Flaxius the immortal, "that there was never yet anything left incomplete by neglect or incapacity or poverty, be it in buildings or in that higher structure, man himself, but what it was attributed to the devil. If it had not been for the devil, what fine fellows, what charming creatures, we would all have been to be sure! The devil alone inspires us to sin; _we_ would never have dreamed of it. Whence I conclude that the devil is dearer to man, and a greater benefactor, than all the saints and several deities thrown in, because he serves as a scudaway scapegoat, and excellent excuse for the sins of all the orthodox of all time. How horrible it would be were we all made unto ourselves distinctly responsible for our sins-our unfinished palaces, our good resolutions broken; and how very pleasant it is that it is all the devil's fault, and not our own! Oh my friends, did I believe as ye do-which I don't-I would long ago have raised altars and churches to the devil, wherein I would praise him daily as the one who in spirit and in truth takes upon himself the sins of all the world, bearing the burden of our iniquities. For saying which thing, but in other words, the best Christian of his age, Bishop Agobard, was hunted down well-nigh to death. Thus endeth a great lesson!"

THE DEVIL OF THE MERCATO VECCHIO

"Have I not the magic wand, by means of which, having first invoked the spirit Odeken, one can enter the elfin castle? Is not this a fine trot on the devil's crupper? Here it is-one of the palaces erected by rivals of the Romans. Let us enter, for I hold a hand of glory to which all doors open. Let us enter, _hic et nunc_, the palace fair. . . . Here it was once on a Sabato of the Carnival that there entered four graceful youths of n.o.ble air."-_Arlecchino alle Nozze di Cana_.

I very naturally made inquiry as to whether there was not a legend of the celebrated bronze devil made by Giovanni di Bologna, which remained until lately in the Mercato Vecchio, and I obtained the following, which is, from intrinsic evidence, extremely curious and ancient.

IL DIAVOLO ALLA CAVOLAIA.

"On the corner of the Palace Cavolaia there were anciently four devils of iron. {98} These were once four gentlemen who, being wonderfully intimate, had made a strange compact, swearing fidelity and love among themselves to death, agreeing also that if they married, their wives and children and property should be all in common.

"When such vows and oaths are uttered, the saints may pa.s.s them by, but the devils hear them; they hear them in h.e.l.l, and they laugh and cry, 'These are men who will some day be like us, and here for ever!' Such sin as that is like a root which, once planted, may be let alone-the longer it is in the ground, the more it grows. _Terra non avvilisce oro_-earth does not spoil gold, but even virtue, like friendship, may grow into a great vice when it grows too much.

"As it happened in this case. Well, the four friends were invited to a great _festa_ in that fatal palace of the Cavolaia, and they all went.

And they danced and diverted themselves with great and beautiful ladies in splendour and luxury. As the four were all singularly handsome and greatly admired, the ladies came _con grandi tueletti_-in their best array, _sfarzose per essere corteggiate_-making themselves magnificent to be courted by these gentlemen, and so they looked at one another with jealous eyes, and indeed many a girl there would have gladly been wife to them all, or wished that the four were one, while the married dames wished that they could _fare i sposamenti_-be loved by one or all.

People were wicked in those days!

"But what was their surprise-and a fearful surprise it was-when, after all their gaiety, they heard at three o'clock in the morning the sound of a bell which they had never heard before, and then divine music and singing, and there entered a lady of such superhuman beauty as held them enchanted and speechless. Now it was known that, by the strict rules of that palace, the _festa_ must soon close, and there was only time for one more dance, and it was sworn among these friends that every lady who danced with one of them, must dance with all in succession. Truly they now repented of their oath, for she was so beautiful.

"But the lady advancing, pointed out one of the four, and said, 'I will dance with him alone.'

"The young signore would have refused, but he felt himself obliged, despite himself, to obey her, and when they had danced, she suddenly disappeared, leaving all amazed.

"And when they had recovered from the spell which had been upon them, they said that as she had come in with the dawn and vanished with the day, it must have been the Beautiful Alba, the enchanting queen of the fairies.

"The _festa_ lasted for three days, and every night at the same hour the beautiful Alba reappeared, enchanting all so wonderfully, that even the ladies forgot their jealousy, and were as much fascinated by her as were the men.

"Now of the four friends, three sternly reproached the other for breaking his oath, they being themselves madly in love; but he replied, and truly, that he had been compelled by some power which he could not resist to obey her. But that, as a man of honour, so far as he could, he would comply with the common oath which bound them.

"Then they declared that he should ask her if she loved him, and if she a.s.sented, that he should inform her of their oath, and that she must share her love with all or none-_altrimenti non avrebbe mai potuta sposarla_.

"Which he did in good faith, and she answered, 'Hadst thou loved me sincerely and fully, thou wouldst have broken that vile oath; and yet it is creditable to thee that, as a man of honour, thou wilt not break thy word. Therefore thou shalt be mine, but not till after a long and bitter punishment. Now I ask thy friends and thee, if to be mine they are willing to take the form of demons and bear it openly before all men.'

"And when he proposed it to his friends, he found them so madly in love with the lady that they, thinking she meant some disguise, declared that to be hers they would willingly wear any form, however terrible.

"And the fair Alba, having heard them, said, 'Yes, ye shall indeed be mine; more than that I do not promise. Now meet me to-morrow at the Canto dei Diavoli-at the Devil's Corner!'

"And they gazed at her astonished, never having heard of such a place.

But she replied, 'Go into the street and your feet shall guide you, and truly it will be a great surprise.'

"And they laughed among themselves, saying, 'The surprise will be that she will consent to become a wife to us all.'

"But when they came to the corner, in the night, what was their amazement to see on it four figures of devils indeed, and Alba, who said, 'Now ye are indeed mine, but as for my being yours, that is another matter.'

"Then touching each one, she also touched a devil, and said, 'This is thy form; enter into it. Three of ye shall ever remain as such. As for this fourth youth, he shall be with ye for a year, and then, set free, shall live with me in human form. And from midnight till three in the morning ye also may be as ye were, and go to the Palazzo Cavolaia, and dance and be merry with the rest, but through the day become devils again.'

"And so it came to pa.s.s. After a year the image of the chosen lover disappeared; and then one of the three was stolen, and then another, till only one remained."

There is some confusion in the conclusion of this story, which I have sought to correct. The exact words are, "For many years all four remained, till _one_ was stolen away, and that was the image of the young man who pleased the beautiful Alba, who thus relieved him of the spell."

But as there has been always only one devil on the corner, I cannot otherwise reconcile the story with the fact.

I have said that this tale is ancient from intrinsic evidence. Such extravagant alliances of friendship as is here described were actually common in the Middle Ages; they existed in England even till the time of Queen Elizabeth. In "Shakespeare and his Friends," or in the "Youth of Shakespeare"-I forget which-two young men are represented as fighting a duel because each declared that he loved the other most. There was no insane folly of sentiment which was not developed in those days. But this is so foreign to modern ideas, that I think it could only have existed in tradition to these our times.

There were also during the Middle Ages strange heretical sects, among whom such communism existed, like the polyandria of the ancient Hindoos.

There may be a trace of it in this story.

Alba, Albina, or Bellaria, appear in several Tuscan traditions. They are forms of the Etruscan Alpan, the fairy of the Dawn, a sub-form of Venus, the spirit of Light and Flowers, described in my work on "Etruscan Roman Traditions." It may be remarked as an ingenious touch in the tale, that she always appears at the first dawn, or at three o'clock, and vanishes with broad day. This distinguishes her from the witches and evil spirits, who always come at midnight and vanish at three o'clock.

The readiness with which the young men consented to a.s.sume the forms of demons is easily explained. They understood that it meant only a disguise, and it was very common in the Middle Ages for lovers to wear something strange in honour of their mistresses. The dress of a devil would only seem a joke to the habitues of the Cavolaia. It may be also borne in mind that in other tales of Florence it is distinctly stated that spirits confined in statues, columns, _et cetera_, only inhabit them "as bees live in hives." They appear to sleep in them by day, and come out at night. So in India the saint or demon only comes into the relic or image from time to time, or when invoked.

After I had written the foregoing, I was so fortunate as to receive from Maddalena yet another legend of the bronze imp of Giovanni di Bologna, which tale she had unearthed in the purlieus of the Mercato Vecchio. I have often met her when thus employed, always in the old part of the town, amid towering old buildings bearing shields of the Middle Ages, or in dusky _vicoli_ and _chia.s.si_, and when asked what she was doing, 'twas ever the same reply, "_Ma_, _Signore Carlo_, there's an old woman-or somebody-lives here who knows a story." And then I knew that there was going to be a long colloquy in dialect which would appal any one who only knew choice Italian, the end of which would be the recovery, perhaps from half-a-dozen _vecchie_, of a legend like the following, of which I would premise that it was not translated by me, but by Miss Roma Lister, who knew Maddalena, having taken lessons from her in the sublime art of _battezare le carte_, or telling fortunes by cards, and other branches of the black art. And having received the ma.n.u.script, which was unusually illegible and troublesome, I asked Miss Lister to kindly transcribe it, but with great kindness she translated the whole, only begging me to mention that it is given with the most scrupulous accuracy, word for word, from the original, so far as the difference of language permitted.

IL DIAVOLINO DEL CANTO DE' DIAVOLI.

_The Imp of the Devil's Corner and the Pious Fairy_.

"There was once a pious fairy who employed all her time in going about the streets of Florence in the shape of a woman, preaching moral sermons for the good of her hearers, and singing so sweetly that all who heard her voice fell in love with her. Even the women forgot to be jealous, so charming was her voice, and dames and damsels followed her about, trying to learn her manner of singing.

"Now the fairy had converted so many folk from their evil ways, that a certain devil or imp-who also had much business in Florence about that time-became jealous of the intruder, and swore to avenge himself; but it appears that there was as much love as hate in the fiend's mind, for the fairy's beautiful voice had worked its charm even when the hearer was a devil. Now, besides being an imp of superior intelligence, he was also an accomplished ventriloquist (or one who could imitate strange voices as if sounding afar or in any place); so one day while the pious fairy in the form of a beautiful maiden held forth to an admiring audience, two voices were heard in the street, one here, another there, and the first sang: