Once upon a time there was a merchant who was supposed to go away on business, but he was afraid to leave his daughter at home by herself, as a certain king had designs on her.
"Dear daughter," he said, "I'm leaving, but you must promise not to stick your head out of the door or let anyone in until I get back."
Now that very morning the daughter had seen a handsome parrot in the tree outside her window. He was a well-bred parrot, and the maiden had delighted in talking with him.
"Father," she replied, "it just breaks my heart to have to stay home all by myself. Couldn't I at least have a parrot to keep me company?"
The merchant, who lived only for his daughter, went out at once to get her a parrot. He found an old man who sold him one for a song. He took the bird to his daughter, and after much last-minute advice to her, he set out on his trip.
No sooner was the merchant out of sight than the king began devising a way to join the maiden. He enlisted an old woman in his scheme and sent her to the girl with a letter.
In the meantime the maiden got into conversation with the parrot. "Talk to me, parrot."
"I will tell you a good story. Once upon a time there was a king who had a daughter. She was an only child, with no brothers or sisters, nor did she have any playmates. So they made her a doll the same size as herself, with a face and clothes exactly like her own. Everywhere she went the doll went too, and no one could tell them apart. One day as king, daughter, and doll drove through the woods in their carriage, they were attacked by enemies who killed the king and carried off his daughter, leaving the doll behind in the abandoned carriage. The maiden screamed and cried so, the enemies let her go, and she wandered off into the woods by herself. She eventually reached the court of a certain queen and became a servant. She was such a clever girl that the queen liked her better all the time. The other servants grew jealous and plotted her downfall. 'You are aware, of course,' they said, 'that the queen likes you very much and tells you everything. But there's one thing which we know and you don't. She had a son who died.' At that, the maiden went to the queen and asked, 'Majesty, is it true that you had a son who died?' Upon hearing those words, the queen almost fainted. Heaven help anyone who recalled that fact! The penalty for mentioning that dead son was no less than death. The maiden too was condemned to die, but the queen took pity on her and had her shut up in a dungeon instead. There the girl gave way to despair, refusing all food and passing her nights weeping. At midnight, as she sat there weeping, she heard the door bolts slide back, and in walked five men: four of them were sorcerers and the fifth was the queen's son, their prisoner, whom they were taking out for exercise."
At that moment, the parrot was interrupted by a servant bearing a letter for the merchant's daughter. It was from the king, who had finally managed to get it to her. But the girl was eager to hear what happened next in the tale, which had reached the most exciting part, so she said, "I will receive no letters until my father returns. Parrot, go on with your story."
The servant took the letter away, and the parrot continued. "In the morning the jailers noticed the prisoner had not eaten a thing and they told the queen. The queen sent for her, and the maiden told her that her son was alive and in the dungeon a prisoner of four sorcerers, who took him out every night at midnight for exercise. The queen dispatched twelve soldiers armed with crowbars, who killed the sorcerers and freed her son. Then she gave him as a husband to the maiden who had saved him."
The serant knocked again, insisting that the young lady read the king's letter. "Very well. Now that the story is over, I can read the letter," said the merchant's daughter.
"But it's not finished yet, there's still some more to come," the parrot hastened to say. "Just listen to this: the maiden was not interested in marrying the queen's son. She settled for a purse of money and a man's outfit and moved on to another city. The son of this city's king was ill, and no doctor knew how to cure him. From midnight to dawn he raved like one possessed. The maiden showed up in man's attire, claiming to be a foreign doctor and asking to be left with the youth for one night. The first thing she did was look under the bed and find a trapdoor. She opened it and went down into a long corridor, at the end of which a lamp was burning."
At that moment the servant knocked and announced there was an old woman to see the young lady, whose aunt she claimed to be. (It was not an aunt, but the old woman sent by the king.) But the merchant's daughter was dying to know the outcome of the tale, so she said she was receiving no one. "Go on, parrot, go on with your story."
Thus the parrot continued. "The maiden walked down to that light and found an old woman boiling the heart of the king's son in a kettle, in revenge for the king's execution of her son. The maiden removed the heart from the kettle, carried it back to the king's son to eat, and he got well. The king said, 'I promised half of my kingdom to the doctor who cured my son. Since you are a woman, you will marry my son and become queen.'"
"It's a fine story," said the merchant's daughter. "Now that it's over, I can receive that woman who claims to be my aunt."
"But it's not quite over," said the parrot. "There's still some more to come. Just listen to this. The maiden in doctor's disguise also refused to marry that king's son and was off to another city whose king's son was under a spell and speechless. She hid under the bed; at midnight, she saw two witches coming through the window and remove a pebble from the young man's mouth, whereupon he could speak. Before leaving, they replaced the pebble, and he was again mute."
Someone knocked on the door, but the merchant's daughter was so absorbed in the story that she didn't even hear the knock. The parrot continued.
"The next night when the witches put the pebble on the bed, she gave the bedclothes a jerk and it dropped on the floor. Then she reached out for it and put it in her pocket. At dawn the witches couldn't find it and had to flee. The king's son was well, and they named the maiden physician to the court."
The knocking continued, and the merchant's daughter was all ready to say "Come in," but first she asked the parrot, "Does the story go on, or is it over?"
"It goes on," replied the parrot. "Just listen to this. The maiden wasn't interested in remaining as physician to the court, and moved on to another city. The talk there was that the king of this city had gone mad. He'd found a doll in the woods and fallen in love with it. He stayed shut up in his room admiring it and weeping because it was not a real live maiden. The girl went before the king. 'That is my dool!' she exclaimed. 'And this is my bride!' replied the king on seeing that she was the doll's living image."
There was another knock, and the parrot was at a total loss to continue the story. "Just a minute, just a minute, there's still a tiny bit more," he said, but he had no idea what to say next.
"Come on, open up, it's your father," said the merchant's voice.
"Ah, here we are at the end of the story," announced the parrot. "The king married the maiden, and they lived happily ever after."
The girl finally ran to open the door and embraced her father just back from his trip.
"Well done, my daughter!" said the merchant. "I see you've remained faithfully at home. And how is the parrot doing?"
They went to take a look at the bird, but in his place they found a handsome youth. "Forgive me, sir," said the youth. "I am a king who put on a parrot's disguise, because I am in love with your daughter. Aware of the intentions of a rival king to abduct her, I came here beneath a parrot's plumage to entertain her in an honorable manner and at the same time to prevent my rival from carrying out his schemes. I believe I have succeeded in both purposes, and that I can now ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."
The merchant gave his consent. His daughter married the king who had told her the tale, and the other king died of rage.
(Monferrato)
NOTES:
"The Parrot" (Il pappagallo) from Comparetti, 2, Monferrato, Piedmont.
See my remarks on this folktale in the Introduction, p. xxx-xxxi. I have taken the liberty of doctoring the two versions published by Comparetti--the Piedmontese one and a Tuscan one, from Pisa (1)--and I heightened the suspense by placing the interruptions at the crucial moments.
Copyright: Italian Folktales Selected and Retold by Italo Calvino,
translated by George Martin,
Pantheon Books, New York 1980