There was once a king who had three sons of marriageable age. In order to avoid any dispute over their choice of three brides, he said, "Aim as far as you can with the sling. There where the stone falls you will get your wife."
The three sons picked up their slings and shot. The oldest boy sent his stone flying all the way to the roof of a bakery, so he got the baker girl. The second boy released his stone, which came down on the house of a weaver. The youngest son's stone landed in a ditch.
Immediately after the shots, each boy rushed off to his betrothed with a ring. The oldest brother was met by a lovely maiden as fresh as a newly baked cake, the middle brother by a fair girl with silky hair and skin, while the youngest, after looking and looking, saw nothing but a frog in that ditch.
They returned to the king to tell him about their betrothed. "Now," said the king, "whoever has the best wife will inherit the kingdom. Here begin the tests." He gave them each some hemp to be spun and returned within three days, to see which betrothed was the best spinner.
The sons went to their betrothed and urged them to spin their best. Highly embarrassed, the youngest boy took the hemp to the rim of the ditch and called:
"Frog, frog!"
"Who calls?"
"Your love who loves you not."
"If you love me not, never mind. Later you shall, when a fine figure I cut."
The frog jumped out of the water onto a leaf. The king's son gave her the hemp, telling her he'd pick up the spun thread three days later.
Three days later the older brothers anxiously hastened to the baker girl and the weaver girl to pick up their spun hemp. The baker girl produced a beautiful piece of work; the weaver girl, who was an expert at this sort of thing, had spun hers to look like silk. But how did the youngest son fare? He went to the ditch and called:
"Frog, frog!"
"Who calls?"
"Your love who loves you not."
"If you love me not, never mind. Later you shall, when a fine figure I cut."
She jumped onto a leaf holding a walnut in her mouth. He was somewhat embarrassed to give his father a walnut while his brothers brought spun hemp. He nevertheless took heart and presented the king with the walnut. The king, who had already scrutinized the handiwork of the baker and the weaver girls, cracked open the walnut as the older brothers looked on, snickering. Out came cloth as fine as gossamer that continued to unroll until the throne room was covered with it. "But there's no end to this cloth!" exclaimed the king. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the cloth came to an end.
But the father refused to accept the idea of a frog becoming queen. His favorite hunting bitch had just had three puppies, which he gave the three sons. "Take them to your betrothed and go back for them a month later. The one who's taken the best care of her dog will become the queen."
A month later, the baker girl's dog had turned into a big, fat mastiff, having got all the bread he could eat. The weaver's dog, not nearly so well supplied, was now a half-starved hound. The youngest son came in with a small box. The king opened it and out jumped a tiny, beribboned poodle, impeccably groomed and perfumed, that stood on its hind legs and marched and counted.
"No doubt about it," said the king, "my youngest son will be king, and the frog will be queen."
The wedding of all three brothers was set for the same day. The older brothers went for their brides in garlanded carriages drawn by four horses, and the brides climbed in, decked with feathers and jewels.
The youngest boy went to the ditch, where the frog awaited him in a carriage fashioned out of a fig leaf and drawn by four snails. They set out. He walked ahead while the snails followed, pulling the fig leaf with the frog upon it. Every now and then he stopped for them to catch up with him, and once he even fell asleep. When he awakened, a gold carriage had pulled up beside him. It was drawn by two white horses, and inside on velvet upholstery, sat a maiden as dazzling as the sun and dressed in an emarald-green gown.
"Who are you?" asked the youngest son.
"I am the frog."
He couldn't believe it, so the maiden opened a jewel case containing the fig leaf, the frog skin, and four snail shells. "I was a princess turned into a frog, and the only chance I had of getting my human form back was for a king's son to agree to marry me the way I was."
The king was overjoyed and told his two older sons, who were consumed with envy, that whoever picked the wrong wife was unworthy of the crown. So the youngest boy and his bride became king and queen.
(Monferrato)
NOTES:
"The Prince Who Married a Frog" (Il principe che sposò una rana) from Comparetti, 4, Monferrato, Piedmont.
The tale of the frog bride is common to all of Europe; scholars have counted 300 versions. Comparing it, for instance, with Grimm, no.63, or with Afanas'ev's "The Frog Prince," this variant which we can classify as distinctly Italian (since it shows up uniformly throughout the Peninsula, even if slinging to locate the bride is rather rare) stands out in its near-geometrical logic and linearity.
Copyright: Italian Folktales Selected and Retold by Italo Calvino,
translated by George Martin,
Pantheon Books, New York 1980