"'Senti o bella una parola, Te la dico a te sola, Qui nessun ci puo'l sentire Una cosa ti vuo dire; Se la senti la stemperona, L'a un voce da buffona Tiene in mano la corona. {103} Per fare credere a questo o quella, Che l'e sempre una verginella.'

"'Hear, O lovely maid, a word, Only to thyself I'd bear it, For it must not be o'erheard, Least of all should the preacher hear it.

'Tis that, while seeming pious, she, Holding in hand a rosary, Her talk is all hypocrisy, To make believe to simple ears, That still the maiden wreath she wears.'

"Then another voice answered:

"'La risposta ti vuo dare, Senza farti aspettare; Ora di un bell' affare, Te la voglio raccontare, Quella donna che sta a cantare, E una Strega di queste contrade, Che va da questo e quello, A cantarle indovinello, A chi racconta: Voi siete Buona donna affezionata.

Al vostro marito, ma non sapete, Cie' di voi un 'altra appasionata.'

"'Friends, you'll not have long to wait For what I'm going to relate; And it is a pretty story Which I am going to lay before ye.

That dame who singing there you see Is a witch of this our Tuscany, Who up and down the city flies, Deceiving people with her lies, Saying to one: The truth to tell, I know you love your husband well; But you will find, on close inspection, Another has his fond affection.'

"In short, the imp, by changing his voice artfully, and singing his ribald songs everywhere, managed in the end to persuade people that the fairy was no better than she should be, and a common mischief-maker and disturber of domestic peace. So the husbands, becoming jealous, began to quarrel with their wives, and then to swear at the witch who led them astray or put false suspicion into their minds.

"But it happened that the fairy was in high favour with a great saint, and going to him, she told all her troubles and the wicked things which were said of her, and besought him to free her good name from the slanders which the imp of darkness had spread abroad (_l'aveva chalugnato_).

"Then the saint, very angry, changed the devil into a bronze figure (_mascherone_, an architectural ornament), but first compelled him to go about to all who had been influenced by his slanders, and undo the mischief which he had made, and finally to make a full confession in public of everything, including his designs on the beautiful fairy, and how he hoped by compromising her to lead her to share his fate.

"Truly the imp cut but a sorry figure when compelled to thus stand up in the Old Market place at the corner of the Palazzo Cavolaia before a vast mult.i.tude and avow all his dirty little tricks; but he contrived withal to so artfully represent his pa.s.sionate love for the fairy, and to turn all his sins to that account, that many had compa.s.sion on him, so that indeed among the people, in time, no one ever spoke ill of the _doppio povero diavolo_, or doubly poor devil, for they said he was to be pitied since he had no love on earth and was shut out of heaven.

"Nor did he quite lose his power, for it was said that after he had been confined in the bronze image, if any one spoke ill of him or said, 'This is a devil, and as a devil he can never enter Paradise,' then the imp would persecute that man with strange voices and sounds until such time as the offender should betake himself to the Palazzo della Cavolaia, and there, standing before the bronze image, should ask his pardon.

"And if it pleased the Diavolino, he forgave them, and they had peace; but if it did not, they were pursued by the double mocking voice which made dialogue or sang duets over all their sins and follies and disgraces. And whether they stayed at home or went abroad, the voices were ever about them, crying aloud or t.i.ttering and whispering or hissing, so that they had no rest by day or night; and this is what befell all who spoke ill of the Diavolino del Canto dei Diavoli."

The saint mentioned in this story was certainly Pietro Martire or Peter the Martyrer, better deserving the name of murderer, who, preaching at the very corner where the bronze imp was afterwards placed, declared that he beheld the devil, and promptly exorcised him. There can be little doubt that the image was placed there to commemorate this probably "pious fraud."

It is only since I wrote all this that I learned that there were formerly _two_ of these devils, one having been stolen not many years ago. This verifies to some extent the consistency of the author of the legend, "The Devil of the Mercato Vecchio," who says there were four.

There is a very amusing and curious trait of character manifested in the conclusion of this story which might escape the reader's attention were it not indicated. It is the vindication of the "puir deil," and the very evident desire to prove that he was led astray by love, and that even the higher spirit could not take away all his power. Here I recognise beyond all question the witch, the fortune-teller and sorceress, who prefers Cain to Abel, and sings invocations to the former, and to Diana as the dark queen of the _Strege_, and always takes sides with the heretic and sinner and magian and goblin. It is the last working of the true spirit of ancient heathenism, for the fortune-tellers, and especially those of the mountains, all come of families who have been regarded as enemies by the Church during all the Middle Ages, and who are probably real and direct descendants of Canidia and her contemporaries, for where this thing is in a family it never dies out. I have a great many traditions in which the hand of the heathen witch and the worship of "him who has been wronged" and banished to darkness, is as evident as it is here.

"Which indeed seems to show," comments the learned Flaxius, "that if the devil is never quite so black as he is painted, yet, on the other hand, he is so far from being of a pure white-as the jolly George Sand boys, such as Heine and Co., thought-that it is hard to make him out of any lighter hue than mud and verdigris mixed. _In medio tutissimus ibis_.

'Tis also to be especially noted, that in this legend-as in Sh.e.l.ley's poem-the Devil appears as a meddling wretch who is interested in small things, and above all, as given to gossip:

"The Devil sat down in London town Before earth's morning ray, With a favourite imp he began to chat, On religion, and scandal, and this and that, Until the dawn of day."

SEEING THAT ALL WAS RIGHT A LEGEND OF THE PORTA A SAN NICOL

"G.o.d keep us from the devil's lackies, Who are the aggravating jackies, Who to the letter execute An order and exactly do't, Or else, with fancy free and bold, Do twice as much as they are told, And when reproved, cry bravely, 'Oh!

I _thought_ you'd like it so and so.'

From all such, wheresoe'er they be, _Libera nos_, _Domine_!'

The Porta a San Nicol in Florence is, among other legends, a.s.sociated with a jest played by the famous Barlacchia on a friend, the story of which runs as follows:

"It is an old saying that _la porta di dietro e quella che ruba la casa_ (it is the back gate which robs a house), and it was going back to the gate of San Nicol which robbed a man of all his patience. This man had gone with Barlacchia the jester from Florence to Val d'Arno, and on returning they had stopped in the plain of Ripolo, where the friend was obliged to delay for a time, while Barlacchia went on. Now it was so late that although Barlacchia was certain to reach the Porto a San Nicol in time to enter, it was doubtful whether the one who came later could do so unless a word should be spoken in advance to the guard, who for friendship or a fee would sit up and let the late-comer in. Therefore the friend said to the jester, '_Di gratia facesse sostenere la porta_'-'See that the gate is all right,' or that all is right at the bridge-meaning, of course, that he should make it right with the guardian to let him in.

"And when Barlacchia came to the gate, he indeed asked the officer in charge _se questi si sostengo_-whether it was all right, and if it stood firmly, and was in no danger of falling, affirming that he was making special inquiry at request of a friend who was commissioner of the city gates and bridges, and obtained a paper certifying that the gate was in excellent condition, after which he went home.

"Trotting along on his mule came the friend, who, believing that Barlacchia had made it all right with the guard, had not hurried. But he found it was all wrong, and that 'a great mistake had been made somewhere,' as the eel said when he was thrown into boiling hot oil instead of cold water. For he found the gate locked and n.o.body to let him in, so that in a great rage he was obliged to go back to an inn which was distinguished for nothing but its badness, _dove stette con gran disagio quella notte_ (where he pa.s.sed the night in great discomfort).

"And when morning came, he pa.s.sed the gate, but stopped and asked whether Barlacchia had been there the night before. To which the guard answered, 'Yes,' and that he had been very particular in his inquiries as to whether the doors were firm on their hinges, and if the foundations were secure; on hearing which, the man saw that he had been sold, {108} and going to the Piazza Signoria, and meeting Barlacchia, _gli disse rilevata villania_, let him have abuse in bold relief and large proportion, saying that it was infamous to snipe his equal in all things and better in most, in such a low-flung manner, unbecoming a half-grown chimney-sweep, and that if he did not respect himself too much to use improper or strong language, he would say that Barlacchia was a dastardly blackguard and a son of a priest. To which Barlacchia remonstrated that he had performed to perfection exactly what he had promised to do, yea, _a punto_, to the very letter.

"Now by this time half Florence had a.s.sembled, and being delighted beyond all measure at this racy dispute, insisted on forming a street-court and settling the question _alla fresca_. And when the evidence was taken, and all the facts, which long in darkness lay, were brought full clearly to the light of day, there was such a roaring of laughter and clapping of lands that you would have sworn the Guelfs and Ghibellines had got at it again full swing. But the verdict was that Barlacchia was acquitted without a stain on his character.

"_Haec fabula docet_," comments Flaxius, "that there be others besides Tyll Eulenspiegel who make mischief by fulfilling laws too literally.

And there are no people in this world who contrive to break the Spirit of Christianity so much as those who follow it simply to the Letter."

THE ENCHANTED COW OF LA VIA VACCHERECCIA

"On Dunmore Heath I also slewe A monstrous wild and cruell beaste Called the Dun Cow of Dunmore plaine, Who many people had opprest."

-_Guy_, _Earl of Warwick_.

The Via Vacchereccia is a very short street leading from the Signoria to the Via Por San Maria. _Vaccherricia_, also _Vacchereccia_, means a cow, and is also applied scornfully to a bad woman. The following legend was given to me as accounting for the name of the place. A well-known Vienna beerhouse-restaurant, Gilli and Letta's, has contributed much of late years to make this street known, and it was on its site that, at some time in "the fabled past," the building stood in which dwelt the witch who figures in the story.

LA VIA VACCHERECCIA.

"There lived long ago in the Via Vacchereccia a poor girl, who was, however, so beautiful and graceful, and sweet in her manner, that it seemed to be a marvel that she belonged to the people, and still more that she was the daughter of the woman who was believed to be her mother, for the latter was as ugly as she was wicked, brutal, and cruel before all the world, and a witch in secret, a creature without heart or humanity.

"Nor was the beautiful Artemisia-such being the name of the girl-in reality her daughter, for the old woman had stolen her from her parents, who were n.o.ble and wealthy, when she was a babe, and had brought her up, hoping that when grown she could make money out of her in some evil way, and live upon her. But, as sometimes happens, it seemed as if some benevolent power watched over the poor child, for all the evil words and worse example of the witch had no effect on her whatever.

"Now it happened that Artemisia in time attracted the attention and love of a young gentleman, who, while of moderate estate, was by no means rich; and he had learned to know her through his mother, an admirable lady, who had often employed Artemisia, and been impressed by her beauty and goodness. So it happened that the mother favoured the son's suit, and as Artemisia loved the young man, it seemed as if her sufferings would soon be at an end, for be it observed that the witch treated the maid at all times with extraordinary cruelty.

"But it did not suit the views of the old woman at all that the girl on whom she reckoned to bring in much money from great protectors, and whom she was wont to call the cow from whom she would yet draw support, should settle down into the wife of a small n.o.ble of moderate means. So she not only scornfully rejected the suit, but scolded and beat Artemisia with even greater wickedness than ever.

"But there are times when the gentlest natures (especially when supported by good principles and truly good blood) will not give way to any oppression, however cruel, and Artemisia, feeling keenly that the marriage was most advantageous for her, and a great honour, and that her whole heart had been wisely given, for once turned on the old woman and defied her, threatening to appeal to the law, and showing that she knew so much that was wicked in her life that the witch became as much frightened as she was enraged, well knowing that an investigation by justice would bring her to the bonfire. So, inspired by the devil, she turned the girl into a cow, and shut her up in a stable in the courtyard of the house, where she went every day two or three times to beat and torture her victim in the most fiendish manner.

"Meanwhile the disappearance of Artemisia had excited much talk and suspicion, as it followed immediately after the refusal of the old woman to give her daughter to the young gentleman. And he indeed was in sad case and great suffering, but after a while, recovering himself, he began to wonder whether the maid was not after all confined in the Via Vacchereccia. And as love doubles all our senses and makes the deaf hear, and, according to the proverb, 'he who finds it in his heart will feel spurs in his flanks,' so this young man, hearing the old woman spoken of as a witch, began to wonder whether she might not be one in truth, and whether Artemisia might not have been _confinata_ or enchanted into some form of an animal, and so imprisoned.

"And, full of this thought, he went by night to the house, where there was an opening like a window or portal in the courtyard, and began to sing:

"'Batte le dodici a una campana, Si sente appena dalla lontana.

"'Se almeno la voce potessi sentire, Della mia bella che tanto deve soffrire.'

"'Midnight is striking, I hear it afar, High in the heaven shines many a star.

"'And oh that the voice of the one I could hear, Who suffers so sadly-the love I hold dear.