« "Your Cireglio" | Main | 'povero vecchio' »
April 7, 2017
Argenta's fourth story
Lo Zufolo Che Sonava Da Sé
THE FLUTE THAT PLAYED ITSELF
Once upon a time there was a poor queen so sick that she was always tired, often she felt like staying in bed. And she didn’t know how to carry on, so she had really became a grumbler; and she was no longer helped by those professors, magicians and sorcerers she had turned to. But one day her husband, the king, said to her that there was a certain professor so good that he knew all the answers and had the remedy for her stubborn illness. So the king said to the queen: - Do you know what? We will send for this professorone.
In fact, they did make a call to him, and he arrived quickly with his awesome white beard, and with a pair of eyes that seemed like lanterns; he looked at her over and over, round and round, on all sides, then he shakes his head and says to the poor queen: - I know of no other remedy than that of the feather of a griffin bird.
- But who can remember when anyone has come across this bird?
- But?! who knows! there may be one, though it may be a little difficult to find. Yet, on these mountains, in some thicket there must certainly be one, because it is a beast that likes the wildness. I recommend trying to send one of the family, that is nothing but common sense.
- Good - said the king - I will send my children.
He sends for his three boys; he says to them: - Dear boys, we need to search everywhere for the feather of a griffin bird, because that is what this great professor needs to heal your mamma. So go at once to search everywhere in these mountains; and to he who finds it I will give half the kingdom and, if he pleases me, the crown. Are we agreed? Now go, bonviaggio and return quickly. The three princes left and set off up the mountain; but they didn’t even know where to start looking for such a bird as the griffin, no one knew where it would be, and to ask anyone was useless.
Walking, walking, finally these three boys arrive at the edge of a great and wild thicket, so dense that you could barely see through it.
The eldest brother said: - I think the griffin bird must be close to here. Now, if the three of us find it together, how can half the kingdom and crown be divided?
- Let’s do this - said the middle one - each one for himself; and whoever finds it, better for him.
So the agreement was made, and in the evening they found themselves at the edge of the forest and hillside and divided it, each one had his portion: the oldest one to the right, the middle to the left, and the youngest, he went right into the middle of the forest all alone.
The eldest thought it would be best if he were the one to find the griffin bird, because all he thought of was the crown; and then half the kingdom, even if half of it, (would be like) throwing it away.
As the older prince went on his way, he came upon a byway that wandered around the forest. After walking a little he came upon an old woman who was coming down very quietly; she said: - Nice young man, oh where do you go with this passage?
He looks at her a moment, shrugs his shoulders and says: - of what importance is that to you, face of a witch? - And it seemed he couldn’t go fast enough to be on his way.
The middle brother climbed the forested mountainside with the idea of the crown going to him, instead of his older brother. And of recovering the feather of the griffin bird to heal his mother, he didn’t think so much. Now, as he was on his way thinking on this, as if he had come upon the police, he found himself in front of an old woman on the trail, as the other one, under a bundle (on her shoulder). What did he do? He gave her a shove and shouted: - Stand aside old woman! Who told you to stand in front of me? Don’t you see I am the son of a king? - He passed by without turning around; the old woman fell under the bundle and didn’t know if she could stand up.
Meanwhile, the youngest prince was lost in that forest and no longer knew where to put his feet, everywhere was a thicket of thorns; every so often he would stop and think of his mother, poor woman, that after all the trouble she had, now he wondered what she thought knowing her children were walking about on the mountain.
If I could find this griffin bird, it would heal her! The crown is not important to me, so what if I have half the crown? I would rather my mother returned lively and cheerful as before; poor woman, how much she has suffered.
While the young prince was so thinking, he met a little old lady. He said to her:
- Good evening, nonna.
- Good evening dear boy, where are you going?
- Ah, my dear nonnina, I go to look for the griffin bird, because my mamma is so sick and a professor has ordered a feather of a griffin to cure her; but who knows where this bird will be.
The old woman said: - Fine young man, your politeness to me gives me a good feeling about you; and I…, look, I’ll tell you right where the griffin bird is. Here, listen closely to me: go straight (into the forest), and when you find yourself exactly in the middle of the forest, there is a meadow with a large oak, stop there, on a branch of that tree there you will see the griffin bird with its tail touching the ground.
I recommend that you that you go under him, but careful, if you see that his eyes are closed do not pull his feather, his senses are good, and he will grab you with his beak and not let you go until you are dead.
Instead, wait until he opens his eyes and then take a feather from his tail. Stuff it immediately next to your bosom and don’t let anyone know that you have it, especially your brothers.
The little old lady says this, gives him a smile and disappears.
The young man went on his way quietly into the forest and soon arrived at a meadow as large and green as he had ever seen; and in the middle there was a huge oak, and upon a branch the griffin bird with its beak open, and eyes closed, and his tail touching the earth. A half hour passes, then an hour, and finally the griffin closed its beak and slowly opened its eyes. Then the prince tiptoed underneath reached with his hand and pulled out the best tail feather and stuffed it (in his shirt) next to his bosom; and now that he had it he did not want to see anyone, not even his brothers; not anyone except his mother.
But now he needed to wait for his brothers, because if they returned home without him, who knows what they would have said.
So when he found himself back at the place (where they agreed to meet) he sat down on a boulder. He waited and waited, the sun went down, and they were still not seen; every now and then he felt the feather next to his chest, which always made him want more and more to take it to her. It was almost dark when behold the brothers, one from here, and one from there.
They said: - You sit?
- How long have you been waiting?
He said - It will be more than one hour.
- Ah, did you find the feather?
- No…
- Neither did we… But you, however, you have a certain air…
- I?….nothing.
- Yes, an air that you know something…
- Now, you will see - said his big brother who came close to him and gave him an evil look; he said - hold up your hands, we are going to search you.
But he didn’t (stand up), he was determined not to get up, and pressed his chest and stayed hard against the boulder. Then the middle brother came up and both of them grabbed him and he started to cry and called: Mamma! Mamma! - and they came one here and one there; but it seemed as though his arms were steel and would not be moved.
Then they pulled out their daggers and said: - Lift your arms, believe us. But he remained firm, and they began to poke him and he screamed from great pain, but didn’t loosen his arms which seemed like iron chains they were so tight across his chest. At length the enraged ones hurled their daggers to his back; he screamed: - Mamma! Mamma mia! - and he turned white all over, spread his arms and fell on his face.
They stood over him, rummaged around his chest, and removed the feather: - And you?…ugly monster, you did good.
And he on the ground, there, dead, …who won’t see his mother again.
They said: - Now what to do with him?
- We have to hide him.
- But where?
- Underground.
And there they began to dig the ground with their knives. Digging, digging, and it was already night when they buried him in the hole. They covered it with earth and stones, and then away, down the mountain, a great race.
When they arrived at the royal palace the queen was dying; she had already been given the holy oil, there was no longer any hope, other than the professor who said every now and then that if the feather of the griffin bird arrives, I will show its benefit.
Just then the two ran into the room saying: Here is the griffin feather.
- Heaven be praised! The professor said, and quickly takes the feather, touches the forehead of the sick one and then the throat, and not even in two minutes the queen opens her eyes, she takes a deep breath and says: Gentimia, I feel better: I seem to be regaining my strength…But what miracle is this?
- Here we are Mamma.
- And where is the youngest?
- But, who knows? The eldest responded - we waited for him on those mountains and looked for him; it seems he is lost; besides with all those beasts that are up there….
- Wretches! Shouted the queen…Why didn’t you bring him with you? …The griffin bird feather is not important to me without my Giannini…Oh, misery, my heart already told me I wouldn’t see him again! I did not want him to go…Oh, poor me, how will I go on?
And that poor mother cried, grieving in her bed; and the king, her husband, and the professor and all those around consoled her not to think about it, that they would send the guards and the hunters to the mountains to see if they could find him. But she, poor little woman, was in despair and could hear nothing other than the heart that unfortunately said: “No, your Giannino, you will never see him again.”
The king then sends all his hunters and guards to search the mountain and sound the horn throughout the forest, on all sides of the woods and ravines; but they didn’t find or see anything, and no one answered except some woodcutters or charcoal sellers.
And the queen, it was as if she had become sick again; she stayed all day in her tower and looked toward the mountain and said: My Giannino, where are you lost? And I am without my darling, my baby, my favorite…What am I going to do now without him?…and crying, brokenhearted, and sighing, always sighing with one hand on her heart; she did not feel the same about her other two sons.
They gave no thought to consoling their mother. One enjoyed his crown and the other his half of the kingdom; and the parties and merry making without stopping from evening to morning, all day long, as if nothing happened to him.
Meanwhile, up on the mountain where they had buried him, a reed began to grow on his grave, a beautiful tall reed, leafy, and with a flower at the top; a little red flower that flickered in the wind of Spring when the shepherds, from the lowlands to the mountains, with their flocks, again began to play their flutes and pipes throughout the wilderness.
And so it was, one fine morning, a shepherd passed by with his flock, saw that pretty reed with the red flower on top and said: - Look there, I can make a zufolo (a flute) with that.
He goes to it, pulls out his knife, cuts the reed, cleans it, makes four holes in it, puts it to his mouth and without even blowing into it, the zufolo made a sound:
Oh dear shepherd who holds me in his mouth,
you didn’t play me, that sound is from me:
I have been murdered by my brothers;
they killed me without reason,
for the feather of the griffin bird.
The shepherd was very confused, he did not believe that a zufolo could play itself; and he looked here and there to see if some one was hiding in the bushes. But no one was there; no one but his goats and sheep grazing and him and that zufolo that he did not even have it to his mouth, continued to play:
Oh dear shepherd who holds me in his mouth,
you didn’t play me, that sound is from me:
I have been murdered by my brothers;
they killed me without reason,
for the feather of the griffin bird.
The shepherd looked at the zufolo and wanted to throw it onto the ground, but the voice, gentle and soft, seemed to be that of a friend; a friend in need, a person closed up in a hole, a brother who had been murdered by his brothers, but now the voice seemed like it was living and crying its song….
But heed me, what a zufolo this is! Who knows if what it says is true…or is it a song it has learned…But true or not true it is the most beautiful song that I have ever heard sung. Who knows, maybe in the town they would be glad to hear this; besides from a zufolo that can play itself. Would a king want to buy it? A king buys everything that pleases him and this will please him. I will ask him for a hundred thousand lira.
So off goes the shepherd, down the mountain, into the town, and below the royal palace (window) he pulls out the zufolo, and even before he puts it to his mouth the zufolo sounds the same song.
The king hears that grand beautiful song, so sweet that it seems to cry and talk and cry, and he didn’t know what to say; and the king appears on the balcony, sees the shepherd with the zufolo in his hand, and the zufolo sings the same song, he did not understand how it made the sounds.
- But hear me, what an invention that is! I, the mighty king, ruler, rich man, I do not have a zufilino like that one.
- I send down my servants to bring up the shepherd.
He goes up and the king says to him:
- Young man, how much do you want for your instrument?
- Your majesty, a hundred thousand lira.
The king tells his treasurer to immediately give one hundred thousand lire to this fine young man and please tell the queen to come here now to hear the wonder of wonders: a zufolo that can play itself.
And then, without even waiting for the queen, the king put the zufolo to his mouth and it immediately sounded this:
Oh my dear father who has me in his mouth,
do not play me, the sound is from me:
my brothers have killed me;
murdered me without reason,
for the feather of a griffin bird.
And the king was completely surprised to hear himself called ‘father’ by that voice that cried and retold the tale of the griffin bird; he looked around very confused that this voice seemed to recognize him and know the name of his dead son, when the mourning queen entered the room; he approached her and said - my wife it knows everything about Giannino, this zufolo doesn’t sing, it speaks. You test it, put this blessed little zufolo to your mouth. The queen put the zufolo to her mouth and he, the zufolo, spoke thus:
Oh my dear mother with me in her mouth,
don’t play me, because this sound is from me:
my brothers have killed me;
murdered me without reason,
for the feather of a griffin bird.
The queen seemed to die from hearing the voice that she knew, the voice of her dear Giannino; she sobbed, and her hand trembled; trembling, the poor hand dropped the zufolo, and it broke on the ground, split in half, and out of the wood, like a flame, Giannino rises out of it alive and beautiful, and comes with open arms: the father, mother and son embraced each other tightly and kissed each other in tears and with joy. It seemed like a dream but it was really true: Giannino alive as before, beautiful, good as ever and he said: Don’t do anything to my brothers: I forgive them who did not know the evil they did killing me without understanding…
But the king sends for the captain of the guards and tells him to put the royal princes in chains and bring them to him immediately.
The brothers, all chained, entered the room surrounded by the guards, and seeing their young brother, they cried out: - Mercy! Mercy! and threw themselves onto their knees.
Said the king: - They confessed their guilt and deserve to have their heads cut off.
- No father - said Giannino and threw himself onto his knees before him - father, spare them, because I have forgiven them.
Yes - said the king - let them live, but they are no longer royal princes and they can go through the world to seek forgiveness - away from here, I don’t want to look at them.
And the guards carried them away; their tears and cries were worthless. They were stripped of their royal robes and given the clothes of servants, a backpack, and a pilgrim’s staff; then they were led out the door, and from there they went to find their fate.
Off they went, without any home, walking away, crying into the night; dawn finds them walking still. In the end they followed the sun, without stopping, their hearts led them to cross the sea to go to do penance in the country where Jesus died - Holy Jerusalem.
Meanwhile, in the royal palace, there was a grand feast for all to celebrate the revival of the prince. After the celebration, the king said - Giannino, I am old now, and I give to you the crown and scepter, because you will govern well.
And Giannino had to take the crown and scepter; and the king was left with only a simple stick, poor old man, to help him walk. But he was blessed just the same; and his wife, the old queen was his biggest blessing; and he enjoyed very much to see Giannino with the crown on his head and the scepter in his hand rule; there was no other kingdom in those times with a better ruler.
Afterwards, Giannino turned to marriage; and he found a princess, from none other than Portugal; she was a very beautiful and talented daughter; and as good and respectful companion to her in-laws as there has ever been.
And everyone lived happy and contented,
without even a toothache.
Translated by R.P.
Note:
I think this story is a religious allegory, but before I get to that a couple notes:
* Argenta’s zufolo is a simple shepherd’s flute which are generally handmade from a reed or bamboo. She also calls it a zufilo which, according to my antique Italian dictionary is an obsolete form of the word used in the Tuscan mountain regions. In the story, the king affectionately calls it a zufilino. The dictionary also indicates that zufolo has a connotation of ‘contadinesco’ which means rustic, or ‘like a peasant’; Argenta’s shepherd makes the flute himself with four finger holes.
The Italian word for flute is ‘flauto’, but Argenta had in mind the shepherd’s reed flute, a zufolo.
Zufolo may also be translated as ‘whistle’; the verb form zufolare means to whistle with one’s mouth, but the text describes the zufolo like the photo below so I used ‘zufolo' thoughout the story to avoid ‘flute’ or ‘whistle’.
* The form of the mythic griffin probably originated in the Middle East. It’s found in heraldry in many places in Italy. There is a famous sculpture of a griffin on the peak of the Pisa Cathedral, thought to be of Middle Eastern origin and part of the objects brought back by the Italians from the 11th century crusades.
The griffin sculpture on the pisa cathedral
They are seen in the coat of arms of Genoa.
Coat of arms for the city of Genoa
And finally, one makes an appearance in the Purgatorio canticle XXIX and XXX of Dante’s Divine Comedy pulling a chariot, which bears relevance to Argenta’s story.
Beatrice, Dante’s muse and true love, arrives in a cart pulled by a griffin to lead Dante (with the red hat) through Paradise.
The two cantos of The Divine Comedy in which the griffin appears are a dense allegorical maze. For starters, the griffin here represents the duality of Christ as God and man - the front half, a golden eagle, is the divine part, the back half, a lion, is the animal or human part. The cart is the church, the two wheels are the old and new testaments, the twelve apostles are depicted (see illustration above) leading the “the chariot of the Church triumphant”. The parade is the heavenly pageant leading Dante out of Purgatory and into Paradise being led now by Beatrice, who arrives with the parade in a angelic shower of flower petals. Virgil, who has led Dante through the Inferno and Purgatorio turns it over to Beatrice as he is an unbaptized heathen and not permitted entry into Paradise. And it goes on and on...
John Ciardi’s notes on each canto in his translation of Dante is the best for gaining some understanding of the whole work.
But for the story at hand, taking the lead from Dante, one could make a case for the sick queen representing a fractured and tired Italy in the fourteenth century only to be saved/made well by God, represented by the griffin feather; that is, for the country to go with the papacy instead of the Holy Roman Empire which was the cause of the disharmony of that era. The brothers going their separate ways and every man for himself, resulting in the murder of the youngest may represent the warring Italian city states constantly fighting each other at the time.
The reed with the flickering red flower on top that grows from Giannino’s grave may represent a zucchetto, the red cap worn by catholic cardinals, the red color symbolizing the blood a cardinal should be willing to spill for the Church.
Then there is the shepherd, the spiritual overseer, bringing the flute which produces the ‘reincarnation’ of Giannino who almost says “forgive them father for they know not what they do” and becomes the benevolent ruler of the happy kingdom. And, of course, any story where somebody rises from the dead…...
Banishment as a punishment is typical of Italy at the time as both Dante and the Medicis were banished from Florence. Here the is the first mention of religion in Argenta’s stories so far as the banished older brothers end up in Holy Jerusalem seeking their salvation.
The griffin in the illustration for Argenta’s story (at the top of the page) is a bit of a puzzle. It is an aggressive looking bird and not the traditional form with the body of a lion, with the head, claws and wings of an eagle. Thoughout the story it is a ‘griffin bird’ and the feather taken is a tail feather which a classic griffin with a lion at the back wouldn’t have.
Given that these were once word of mouth stories explains just about anything that doesn’t quite fit.
So that’s it. Let’s see what the next one brings.
Posted by ronpaci at April 7, 2017 10:37 AM