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The Ridiculous Wishes

Charles Perrault

There was once a poor woodcutter who, tired of his hard life, longed for rest in the world to come. In his unhappiness, he declared that in all his days heaven had not granted even one of his wishes.

One day in the woods, as the woodcutter was complaining of his unhappy lot, Jupiter appeared before him, his thunderbolts in his hands. It would be difficult to picture the terror of the poor man.

"I desire nothing," he said, casting himself on the ground. I will give up my wishes if you, in turn, will give up your thunder. That's a fair exchange!"

"Have no fear," said Jupiter. "I have heard your complaints and I have come to show you how unfairly you judge me. Now listen! I am king of all the world and I promise to grant your first three wishes, no matter what they may be. See that they make you happy and content; and since your happiness depends on them, think carefully before you make them."

With these words, Jupiter returned to his heavens and the happy woodcutter, taking up his bundle of sticks, hurried to his home. Never had his burden seemed so light.

"This is an important matter," he said to himself. ''I certainly must have my wife's advice."

"Hey, Fanchon," he shouted, as he entered his cottage. "Let us up a good fire. We are rich for the rest of our lives. All we have to do is to make three wishes!"

With this, he told his wife what had happened, whereupon she in her imagination began to form a thousand plans. But realizing the importance of acting prudently, she said to her husband, "Blaise, my dear, let us not spoil anything by our impatience. We must think things over very carefully. Let us put off our first wish until tomorrow. Let us sleep on it."

"I think you are right," said he. "But first go draw some of that special wine."

On her return, the woodcutter drank deeply and leaned back in his chair before the fire. "To match such a fine blaze," he said, "I wish we had a measure of sausage. It would go very well indeed!"

Scarcely had he spoken these words when his wife, to her great astonishment, saw a long link of sausage moving over to them like a snake from the chimney corner. She cried out in alarm, but realizing at once that this was the result of the wish which her foolish husband had made, she began to abuse and scold him angrily.

"When you might," she said, "have a kingdom, with gold, pearls, rubies, diamonds, fine clothes; and all you wish for is a sausage!"

"Alas," her husband replied. "I was wrong, I made a very bad choice. I admit my mistake. Next time I will do better."

"Yes! Yes!" said his wife. "I'll repeat it till Doomsday. To make such a choice as you did, you must be a donkey."

At this the husband became very angry and almost wished his wife was dead. "Mankind," he said, "is born to suffer. A curse on this and all sausages. I wish that it was hanging from the end of your nose!"

The wish was heard at once in heaven, and the sausage fastened itself on her nose. Fanchon had once been pretty, and, -- to tell the truth -- this ornament did not have a very pleasing effect. Since it hung down over her face, however, it interfered with her talking, and this was such an advantage to her husband that he did not think he had wished too badly.

"With my remaining wish I could very well still make myself a king," he said to himself. "But we must think of the queen, too, and her unhappiness if she were to sit on the throne with her new yard-long nose. She must decide which she wants, to be a queen with that nose or a woodcutter's wife and an ordinary person."

Whereupon his wife agreed that they had no choice. She would never have the riches and diamonds and fine clothes she had dreamed of, but she would be herself again if the last wish would free her from the frightful sausage on her nose.

And so the woodcutter did not change his lot. He did not become a king. His purse was not filled with gold. He was only too glad to use his remaining wish in restoring his poor wife to her former state.

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• Source: Charles Perrault, Old-Time Stories told by Master Charles Perrault, translated by A. E. Johnson (New York: Dodd Mead and Company, 1921).

• Aarne-Thompson type 750A.

• Link to "The Ridiculous Wishes" in the original French verse: Les souhaits ridicules.

• Link to Charles Perrault's Mother Goose Tales, information about Perrault and his famous collection Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l'Oye, including links to individual tales.

• Link to Les contes de Perrault. A French-language site featuring Perrault's tales, but not including "The Ridiculous Wishes."

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The Three Wishes

1001 Nights

A certain man had longed all his life to look upon the Night of Power, and one night it befell that he gazed at the sky and saw the angels, and Heaven's gates thrown open; and he beheld all things prostrating themselves before their Lord, each in its several stead. So he said to his wife, "Harkye, such an one, verily Allah hath shown me the Night of Power, and it hath been proclaimed to me, from the invisible world, that three prayers will be granted unto me; so I consult thee for counsel as to what shall I ask."

Quoth she, "Oh man, the perfection of man and his delight is in his prickle; therefore do thou pray Allah to greaten thy yard and magnify it."

So he lifted up his hands to heaven and said, "Oh Allah, greaten my yard and magnify it." Hardly had he spoken when his tool became as big as a column and he could neither sit nor stand nor move about nor even stir from his stead; and when he would have carnally known his wife, she fled before him from place to place. So he said to her, "Oh accursed woman, what is to be done? This is thy list, by reason of thy lust."

She replied, "No, by Allah, I did not ask for this length and huge bulk, for which the gate of a street were too strait. Pray Heaven to make it less."

So he raised his eyes to Heaven and said, "Oh Allah, rid me of this thing and deliver me therefrom." And immediately his prickle disappeared altogether and he became clean smooth.

When his wife saw this she said, "I have no occasion for thee, now thou art become pegless as a eunuch, shaven and shorn."

And he answered her, saying, "All this comes of thine ill-omened counsel and thine imbecile judgment. I had three prayers accepted of Allah, wherewith I might have gotten me my good, both in this world and in the next, and now two wishes are gone in pure waste, by thy lewd will, and there remaineth but one."

Quoth she, "Pray Allah the Most High to restore thee thy yard as it was."

So he prayed to his Lord and his prickle was restored to its first estate. Thus the man lost his three wishes by the lack of wit in the woman.

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• Source: The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, translated by Richard F. Burton (Privately printed, 1885), v. 6, pp. 180-181.

• The full title of this story is "The Three Wishes, or the Man who Longed to see the Night of Power." Although I usually find Burton's translation style too florid for twentieth-century taste, his linguistic ornamentation seems to fit this tale, so I have let it stand.

• Aarne-Thompson type 750A.

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The Two-Headed Weaver

The Panchatantra

In a certain place there lived a weaver by the name of Mantharaka, which means "the simpleton." One day, while weaving cloth, the wooden pieces on his loom broke. He took an ax, and set forth to find some wood. He found a large sissoo tree at the ocean's shore, and said aloud, "Now this is a large tree. If I fell it, I will have wood enough for all my weaving tools."

Having thus thought it through, he raised his ax to begin cutting. However, a spirit lived in this tree, and he said, "Listen! This tree is my home, and it must be spared in any event, because I like it here where my body can be stroked by the cool breezes that blow in from the ocean's waves."

The weaver said, "Then what am I to do? If I don't find a good tree, then my family will starve. You will have to go somewhere else. I am going to cut it down."

The spirit answered, "Listen, I am at your service. Ask whatever you would like, but spare this tree!"

The weaver said, "If that is what you want then I will go home and ask my friend and my wife, and when I return, you must give me what I ask for."

The spirit promised, and the weaver, beside himself with joy, returned home. Upon his arrival in his city he saw his friend, the barber, and said, "Friend, I have gained control over a spirit. Tell me what I should demand from him!"

The barber said, "My dear friend, if that is so then you should demand a kingdom. You could be king, and I would be your prime minister, and we two would first enjoy the pleasures of this world and then those of the next one. For they say: A prince who piously gives to others, achieves fame in this world, and through these good deeds, he will arrive in heaven, equal to the gods themselves."

The weaver spoke, "Friend, so be it! But let us also ask my wife."

The barber said, "One should never ask women for advice. They also say: A wise man gives women food, clothing, jewelry, and above all the duties of marriage, but he never asks for their advice. And further: That house must perish where a woman, a gambler, or a child is listened to. And: A man will advance and be loved by worthy people as long as he does not secretly listen to women. Women think only of their own advantage, of their own desires. Even if they love only their own son, still, he will serve their wishes."

The weaver spoke, "Even though this is true, she nonetheless must be asked, because she is subservient to her husband."

Having said this, he went quickly to his wife and said to her, "Dear one, today I have gained control over a spirit who will grant me one wish. Hence I have come to ask for your advice. Tell me, what should I ask for? My friend the barber thinks that I should request a kingdom."

She answered, "Oh, son of your excellence, what do barbers understand? You should never do what they say. After all, it is stated: A reasonable person will no sooner take advice from dancers, singers, the low born, barbers, or children, than from beggars. Furthermore, a king's life is an unending procession of annoyances. He must constantly worry about friendships, animosities, wars, servants, defense alliances, and duplicity. He never gets a moment's rest, because: Anyone who wants to rule must prepare his spirit for misfortune. The same container that is used for salve can also be used to pour out bad luck. Never envy the life of a king."

The weaver said, "You are right. But what should I ask for?"

She answered, "You can now work on only one piece of cloth at a time. That is barely enough to pay for the necessities. You should ask for another pair of arms and a second head so that you can work on two pieces of cloth at once, one in front of you, and one behind you. We can sell the one for household necessities, and you can use the money from the second one for other things. You will thus gain the praise of your relatives, and you will make gains in both worlds."

After hearing this he spoke with joy, "Good, you faithful wife! You have spoken well, and I will do what you say. That is my decision."

With that he went to the spirit and let his will be known, "Listen, if you want to fulfill my wish, then give me another pair of arms and another head."

He had barely spoken before he was two-headed and four-armed. Rejoicing, he returned home, but the people there thought that he was a demon and beat him with sticks and stones, until he fell over dead.

And that is why I say: He who cannot think for himself and will not follow the advice of friends, he will push himself into misfortune, just like the weaver Mantharaka.

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• Source: Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen, translated from the Sanskrit into German by Theodor Benfey (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), book 5, story 8 (v. 2, pp. 341-344).

• Translated into English by D. L. Ashliman. © 2002.

• Similar to Aarne-Thompson type 750A.

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The Monkeys and the Dragonflies

Philippines One day, when the sun was at the zenith and the air was very hot, a poor dragonfly, fatigued with her long journey, alighted to rest on a branch of a tree in which a great many monkeys lived.

While she was fanning herself with her wings, a monkey approached her, and said, "Aha! What are you doing here, wretched creature?"

"O sir! I wish you would permit me to rest on this branch while the sun is so hot," said the dragonfly softly. "I have been flying all morning, and I am so hot and tired that I can go no farther," she added.

"Indeed!" exclaimed the monkey in a mocking tone. "We don't allow any weak creature such as you are to stay under our shelter. Go away!" he said angrily, and, taking a dry twig, he threw it at the poor creature.

The dragonfly, being very quick, had flown away before the cruel monkey could hit her. She hurried to her brother the king, and told him what had happened. The king became very angry, and resolved to make war on the monkeys. So he dispatched three of his soldiers to the king of the monkeys with this challenge:

The King of the Monkeys

Sir,

As one of your subjects has treated my sister cruelly, I am resolved to kill you and your subjects with all speed.

DRAGON

The monkey king laughed at the challenge. He said to the messengers, "Let your king and his soldiers come to the battlefield, and they will see how well my troops fight."

"You don't mean what you say, cruel king," answered the messengers. "You should not judge before the fight is over."

"What fools, what fools!" exclaimed the king of the monkeys. "Go to your ruler and tell him my answer," and he drove the poor little creatures away.

When the king of the dragonflies received the reply, he immediately ordered his soldiers to go to the battlefield, but without anything to fight with. Meanwhile the monkeys came, each armed with a heavy stick.

Then the monkey king shouted, "Strike the flying creatures with your clubs!"

When King Dragon heard this order, he commanded his soldiers to alight on the foreheads of their enemies. Then the monkeys began to strike at the dragonflies, which were on the foreheads of their companions. The dragonflies were very quick, and were not hurt at all; but the monkeys were all killed. Thus the light, quick-witted dragonflies won the victory over the strong but foolish monkeys.

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• Source: Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 57, pp. 379-82.

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The Seven Crazy Fellows

Philippines Once there were living in the country in the northern part of Luzon seven crazy fellows, named Juan, Felipe, Mateo, Pedro, Francisco, Eulalio, and Jacinto. They were happy all the day long.

One morning Felipe asked his friends to go fishing. They stayed at the Cagayan River a long time. About two o'clock in the afternoon Mateo said to his companions, "We are hungry; let us go home!"

"Before we go," said Juan, "let us count ourselves, to see that we are all here!"

He counted; but because he forgot to count himself, he found that they were only six, and said that one of them had been drowned. Thereupon they all dived into the river to look for their lost companion; and when they came out, Francisco counted to see if he had been found; but he, too, left himself out, so in they dived again.

Jacinto said that they should not go home until they had found the one who was lost. While they were diving, an old man passed by. He asked the fools what they were diving for. They said that one of them had been drowned.

"How many were you at first?" said the old man.

They said that they were seven.

"All right," said the old man. "Dive in, and I will count you."

They dived, and he found that they were seven. Since he had found their lost companion, he asked them to come with him.

When they reached the old man's house, he selected Mateo and Francisco to look after his old wife; Eulalio he chose to be water carrier; Pedro, cook; Jacinto, wood carrier; and Juan and Felipe, his companions in hunting.

When the next day came, the old man said that he was going hunting, and he told Juan and Felipe to bring along rice with them. In a little while they reached the mountains, and he told the two fools to cook the rice at ten o'clock. He then went up the mountain with his dogs to catch a deer. Now, his two companions, who had been left at the foot of the mountain, had never seen a deer. When Felipe saw a deer standing under a tree, he thought that the antlers of the deer were the branches of a small tree without leaves: so he hung his hat and bag of rice on them, but the deer immediately ran away.

When the old man came back, he asked if the rice was ready. Felipe told him that he had hung his hat and the rice on a tree that ran away.

The old man was angry, and said, "That tree you saw was the antlers of a deer. We'll have to go home now, for we have nothing to eat."

Meanwhile the five crazy fellows who had been left at home were not idle. Eulalio went to get a pail of water. When he reached the well and saw his image in the water, he nodded, and the reflection nodded back at him. He did this over and over again; until finally, becoming tired, he jumped into the water, and was drowned.

Jacinto was sent to gather small sticks, but he only destroyed the fence around the garden.

Pedro cooked a chicken without removing the feathers. He also let the chicken burn until it was as black as coal.

Mateo and Francisco tried to keep the flies off the face of their old mistress. They soon became tired, because the flies kept coming back; so they took big sticks to kill them with. When a fly lighted on the nose of the old woman, they struck at it so hard that they killed her. She died with seemingly a smile on her face. The two fools said to each other that the old woman was very much pleased that they had killed the fly.

When the old man and his two companions reached home, the old man asked Pedro if there was any food to eat. Pedro said that it was in the pot. The old man looked in and saw the charred chicken and feathers. He was very angry at the cook.

Then he went in to see his wife, and found her dead. He asked Mateo and Francisco what they had done to the old woman. They said that they had only been killing flies that tried to trouble her, and that she was very much pleased by their work.

The next thing the crazy fellows had to do was to make a coffin for the dead woman; but they made it flat, and in such a way that there was nothing to prevent the corpse from falling off. The old man told them to carry the body to the church; but on their way they ran, and the body rolled off the flat coffin. They said to each other that running was a good thing, for it made their burden lighter.

When the priest found that the corpse was missing, he told the six crazy fellows to go back and get the body. While they were walking toward the house, they saw an old woman picking up sticks by the roadside.

"Old woman, what are you doing here?" they said. "The priest wants to see you."

While they were binding her, she cried out to her husband, "Ah! here are some bad boys trying to take me to the church."

But her husband said that the crazy fellows were only trying to tease her. When they reached the church with this old woman, the priest, who was also crazy, performed the burial ceremony over her. She cried out that she was alive; but the priest answered that since he had her burial fee, he did not care whether she was alive or not. So they buried this old woman in the ground.

When they were returning home, they saw the corpse that had fallen from the coffin on their way to the church. Francisco cried that it was the ghost of the old woman. Terribly frightened, they ran away in different directions, and became scattered all over Luzon.

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• Source: Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 9, pp. 75-79.

• The episode about the fools who cannot count themselves is a type 1287 folktale.

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The Tale of a Butter Tub

Iceland There lived a king and queen in their realm, and a carl and his old wife in their cottage.

Once the carl and his old wife bought for themselves a barrel full of butter, which they intended to have for their household use during the winter, but now they were at a loss where to hide the barrel, that nobody should steal out of it. At last they agreed upon having it kept at the king's palace. They readily got the king to undertake the guarding of their tub, but its owner put it into its right place, and covered it as they thought fit.

Now the autumn approached, and the old wife began to feel eager for some of the butter, and contrived at once a plan for getting her longing satisfied. One day, in fine weather, she was up early in the morning, and came in to her carl, saying she was called to the king's palace, to hold a child at baptism, wherefore she must go there. The carl said it was a matter of course. Now the old wife got ready in the greatest hurry and went to the king's palace. When she came there she said she should fetch a tiny slice of butter from the barrel. This everyone believed to be true, and she was let in to where the tub stood. Then the old woman took a great pat from the brim of the tub. After that she went home.

Then asked the carl what had been the name of the child at the king's.

The old woman answered, " Brimmy is hight [named] the well-shaped girl."

When the old woman had finished what she had first taken of the butter, she said one morning to her husband, "Eh! I am called yet once again to the king's."

"Well, go then," said the carl.

The old woman went away, and said at the king's as formerly, that she should fetch butter from the barrel. And this time, the old dame took butter away down to the middle of the tub.

When she came home, the carl asked what was the name of the child.

She answered, "Middle, is called the little girl."

When the old wife had finished this provision of butter, she said to the old man : " Yet, once more, am I called to the king's, to hold a child at baptism."

"Go then," quoth the carl.

The old wife went, and coming to the king's palace, said she came for butter. Now she took so much, that she could see the corner which the staves made with the bottom of the tub.

When she came home, the carl asked her what was the name of the child. She answered. "Logg [woodblock] is hight the ugly girl."

Now time passed till the old wife was, once more, in need of butter. Then she said to the old man, "I am called for, once more, at the king's."

"Go then," said the old man. The old woman went, and said, as formerly, that she had come for butter. This time, she took all that was left in the barrel. When she came home, the carl asked what was the name of the child.

"Bottom is hight the stubby swain," said the old woman.

Time passed, till the later months of winter came on. Then the household provisions of the old man and woman began to be rather scarce. The old man said to his old wife, that it would be best to fetch the butter tub from the king's palace. To this, the old woman agreed. They came there and asked for their barrel. It was given to them, and they saw that the covering and everything about the barrel was quite in order.

They rolled the barrel home, into the cottage. Now the carl opened the barrel, and lo! it was quite empty. He was rather startled at this, and asked his wife if she could tell the cause of it. She made believe to be no less astonished, and could find no reason for the trick they had been played.

But, at the same moment, the old wife saw a big fly, which had got into the open barrel, and she said, "Ah! There comes the wretched thief. Look here. This hateful fly has, doubtless, eaten all our butter from the tub."

This, the old man thought must be true, and ran off for the big hammer, with which he used to beat his dried fish, and would break the skull of the fly. He shut the door of the cottage, that the fly should not get out, and now chased the fly all over the place, knocking and beating at it, but never hitting save his own furniture and household chattels, which he broke to pieces. At last, the old man, being tired, sat down in fury and despair.

But then the fly came and sat on his nose. Then the carl begged his wife to kill the fly, and said, "Make haste, while it sits on the nose!" (which since has passed into a common saying). The old woman lifted up, with all her might, the hammer, and thumped it on the old man's nose, and broke his skull so well that he was dead on the spot; but the fly escaped with unbroken skull. It is unscathed yet. But the old woman is still wailing over her carl.

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• Source: Jón Árnason, Icelandic Legends, series 2 (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1866), pp. 606-609.

• The episode about the stolen butter is classified as a type 15 folktale.

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Fortunio

Italy, Giovanni Francesco Straparola

Fortunio, a servant, endeavoring to crush a fly, kills his master, and saves himself from the gallows by a pleasantry.

There lived in the city of Ferrara a rich grocer of good descent, who had in his service Fortunio, a fat good-tempered fellow of very slender wit. Now in the great heats the grocer was wont to lie down to sleep in the middle of the day, and at such times it was Fortunio's part to keep off the flies with a fan, lest they should disturb his master. One day it chanced that, amongst the others, was a very greedy meddlesome horsefly, which took no heed of Fortunio's fanning, nor of his strokes, but alighted constantly on the grocer's bald pate and stung him grievously. And though the fly was chased away three or four times, it always came back to give fresh trouble.

At last the servant, incensed at the boldness and persistency of the fly, rashly made trial to kill it when it was about to settle again on his master's temple and suck his blood. Simple fool that he was, he caught up a weighty bronze pestle, and, striking at the fly with all his might with the intent to kill it, he made an end of the grocer instead.

As soon as Fortunio saw that he had slain his master and thereby made himself liable to death by the law, he took counsel with himself how he might best save his neck, and first resolved to seek safety in flight, but he afterwards fixed upon another scheme, which was to bury the corpse secretly. Therefore, having wrapped up the dead body of his master in a sack and carried it into a garden adjacent to the shop, he buried it there. This done he went to the sheepfold, and, having chosen a big old ram, he took it and threw it down the well.

As the master did not appear at his usual hour in the evening the wife's suspicion fell upon Fortunio, and she questioned him as to her husband's whereabouts, but the fellow declared stoutly that he knew nothing of it. Then the good wife, overcome with grief, began to weep and to call for her husband aloud, but she called in vain. She went to her kinsfolk and told them her grief; whereupon they sought the governor of the city, and laid the crime to Fortunio's charge, demanding that he should be imprisoned and put to the question, in order to make him tell what had become of his master.

The governor, having put the servant in hold and tied him to the rope, gave him the strappado as prescribed by law, on account of the charges against him. Handling of this sort was not to his taste, and he forthwith promised to tell all he knew, if they would let him down.

So they brought him before the judge, and this was the cunning tale he had prepared for their befooling: "Yesterday, O judge! when I was asleep near the well, I was awakened by a great noise, as of some mighty rock being hurled down into the water below. In my amazement I ran to the well and looked into it, but the water was quite clear and I could see nothing amiss; so I turned to go back to the house, when the same noise again met my ears. I am now quite sure in my mind that my master, when trying to draw some water up out of the well, fell down into it. Now, that the truth of the matter may be laid bare, I make petition that all now present may go to the spot; then I will descend into the well and disclose what I may find therein."

The judge was favorable to Fortunio's prayer, holding that experiment is the surest proof, and that no evidence can equal what is brought before one's eyes, and betook himself to the well, bidding the whole assembly follow. There went not only the worshipful persons who were about the judge, but also a vast crowd of the common people, who were curious to learn what might be the issue of the affair.

Fortunio, obeying the commandment of the judge, went straightway down the well, and, when he had reached the bottom, made believe to be searching for his master's body in the water; but what he found was the carcass of the old ram which he himself had lately cast in.

Feigning to be vastly amazed at this, the cunning fellow bawled up from the bottom of the well, "O my mistress! Tell me whether your husband, my poor master, had horns or not; for I have alighted on somebody down here who has got an enormous pair, both long and large. Is it possible that he can be your husband?"

And when the good wife heard Fortunio's question she was so much overcome with shame that she could not find a word to say for herself. Meanwhile the bystanders waited, open-mouthed with curiosity, to set eyes on this corpse with horns, and to see whether it really was the body of the missing grocer or not; and when they saw hauled up Fortunio's old ram, they all clapped their hands, and were shaken by loud laughter.

The judge, when he saw the issue of Fortunio's search, deemed that the foolish fellow was acting in good faith, and that he verily believed what he brought out of the well to be the remains of his master. On this account the judge let him go free, as innocent, but the grocer was never seen more, and the good wife, to her dying day, bore the shame anent the horns which Fortunio's cunning trick had cast upon her.

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• Source: Giovanni Francesco Straparola, The Facetious Nights night 13, tale 4, in: The Italian Novelists, vol. 4 (London: Privately printed for members of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), pp. 149-56.)

• We know almost nothing about the personal life of Giovanni Francesco [also spelled Gianfrancesco] Straparola (ca. 1480 - ca. 1557). His two-volume work Le piacevoli notti (1550-1553), called in English The Facetious Nights of Straparola or simply The Nights of Straparola, contains some 75 novellas and fairy tales, some of oriental origin. Obviously patterning his collection after Boccaccio's Decamerone, Straparola depicts here thirteen nights of revelry in a luxurious villa on the island of Murano near Venice. The participants add to the entertainment by telling one another stories. Included are tales of magic and the supernatural as well as bawdy jokes and anecdotes. Straparola's work is one of Europe's earliest collections of stories based largely on folklore.

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The Seven Wise Men of Buneyr

Pakistan

Seven men of Buneyr once left their native wilds for the purpose of seeking their fortunes. When evening came they all sat down under a tree to rest, when one of them said, "Let us count to see if we are all here." So he counted, "One, two, three, four, five, six," but, quite omitting to reckon himself, he exclaimed, "There's one of us missing, we are only six!"

"Nonsense!" cried the others, and the whole company of seven began counting with uplifted forefingers, but they all forgot to count themselves.

Fearing some evil, they now rose up, and at once set out to search for their missing comrade. Presently they met a shepherd, who greeted them civilly and said, "Friends, why are you in such low spirits?"

"We have lost one of our party," answered they; "we started this morning seven in number, and now we are only six. Have you seen any one of us hereabouts?"

"But," said the shepherd, "seven you are, for I have found your lost companion; behold: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven!"

"Ah," answered the wise men of Buneyr, "you have indeed found our missing brother. We owe you a debt of gratitude. Because you have done us this service, we insist on doing a month's free labor for you."

So the shepherd, overjoyed with his good fortune, took the men home with him.

Now, the shepherd's mother was a very old woman, in her dotage, utterly feeble and unable to help herself. When the morning came he placed her under the care of one of the Buneyris, saying to him, "You will stay here and take care of my old mother."

To another Buneyri he said, "You take out my goats, graze them on the hills by day, and watch over them by night."

To the other five he said, "As for you, I shall have work for you tomorrow."

The man who was left in charge of the old crippled mother found that his time was fully occupied in the constant endeavor to drive off the innumerable flies which in that hot season kept her in a state of continual excitement and irritation. When, however, he saw that all his efforts were fruitless, and that he flapped the wretches away in vain, he became desperate, and, lifting up a large stone, he aimed it deliberately at a certain fly which had settled on the woman's face. Hurling it with all his might, he of course missed the fly, but, alas! he knocked the woman prone on her back. When the shepherd saw this he wrung his hands in despair. "Ah," cried he, "what has your stupidity done for me? The fly has escaped, but as for my poor old mother, you have killed her dead."

Meanwhile, the second Buneyri led his flock of goats up and down among the hills, and when midday came he rested to eat his bread, while many of the assembled goats lay down beside him. As he was eating he began to observe how the goats were chewing the cud and occasionally looking at him So he foolishly imagined that they were mocking him, and waxed wroth. "So," cried he, "because I am taking my food, you must needs crowd round and make game of me, must you?" And, seizing his hatchet, he made a sudden rush at the poor animals, and he had already struck off the heads of several of them, when the shepherd came running to the spot, bemoaning his bad luck and crying to the fellow to desist from slaughter.

That night was a sorrowful one for the trustful shepherd, and bitterly he repented his rashness. In the morning the remaining five wise men of Buneyr came to him, and said, "It is now our turn. Give us some work to do, too!"

"No, no, my friends," answered he; "you have amply repaid me for the trifling favor I did for you in finding your missing companion; and now, for God's sake, go your way and let me see you no more."

Hearing these words, the wise men of Buneyr resumed their journey.

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• Source: Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment; or, Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot. Stock, 1892), no. 74, pp. 305-307.

• The episode describing the fools' inability to count themselves is a type 1287 folktale.

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The Hare and the Merchant

Tibet

A hare once invited his winged neighbors -- the delicate thrush, the singing golden oriole, and the thick-headed crow -- to his home. They sang and drank wine, and chatted away happily. Suddenly the hare hit upon an idea, and said, "We are having a very good time today, but we're still not having the utmost pleasure. Let us play a trick on someone, shall we?"

"All right!" everyone answered in unison.

The hare said to the crow, "In front of the yak-hair tent at the bottom of the hill sit two merchants, one fat and one thin. They are rapacity itself and come every year to our grasslands to rake in money. See how hard they are working at this very moment with their abacus, trying to find ways to get even more money. Brother Crow, would you dare to settle on the head of the fat merchant?"

The crow thought this would be easy and answered, "Why, of course! It's nothing."

"If you dare, we can have the greatest fun," continued the hare. "But remember this: When you settle on his head the first time, the fat merchant will say, 'Oh, what bad luck! A crow settles on my head. Drive him away quickly!' You should fly away when the thin merchant comes near you, and then come back and settle on the fat one's head a second time. The thin merchant will surely try to hit you with the abacus. This time you should fly right away. You'll see, we will have the most amusing jape."

They all came out to see the fun, and the crow flew off and settled on the fat merchant's head. The merchant screwed up his face and shouted, "Oh, what bad luck to have a crow settle on my head! Assistant, drive him away!"

The thin merchant raised his account book and drove the crow away. The crow cawed and circled above the bald head of the fat merchant. The fat merchant, his brows knitted, went over and sat beside the thin merchant and started to work intently on his abacus again.

Within a few moments the crow flew back and settled on the bald head for the second time. The merchant shouted again, "Oh what bad luck! There's a crow settling on my head again. Are you blind, assistant? Why don't you hit him? Beat him to death!"

Fluster by the fat merchant's anger, the thin one raised the abacus and hit at the crow. But instead of hitting him, for the crow had flown away, the blow fell right on the bald head. Blood flowed at once.

The birds, who had been watching the fun, roared with laughter and almost fell off the trees they were sitting on, and the hare had to roll in the grass for merriment. When the crow came back, they all went back to the hare's home and went on with their singing and drinking.

The two greedy merchants couldn't go on with their work on the abacus. In fact, a whole month passed before the fat merchant's wound was healed.

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• Source: Folk Tales from China, second series (Peking: Foreign Languages, 1958), pp. 18-20. No copyright notice.

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The Foolish Friend

The Panchatantra

A king, while visiting his wives' apartments, took a monkey from a neighboring stable for a pet. He kept him constantly close at hand for his amusement, for as it is said, parrots, partridges, doves, rams, monkeys, and such creatures are a king's natural companions.

It goes without saying that the monkey, fed on the various dishes that the king gave him, grew large and was given respect by all who surrounded the king. Indeed, the king, due to his love and exceeding trust of the monkey, even gave him a sword to carry.

In the vicinity of the palace the king had a grove artfully planted with many trees of various sorts. Early in the springtime the king noticed how beautiful the grove was. Its blossoms exuded a magnificent fragrance, while swarms of bees sang praise to the god of love. Thus overcome by love, he entered the grove with his favorite wife. He ordered all his servants to wait for him at the entrance.

After having pleasantly strolling through and observing the grove, he grew tired and said to his monkey, "I want to sleep a little while in this arbor of flowers. Take care that nothing disturbs me!" Having said this, the king fell asleep.

Presently a bee, pursuing the aroma of the flowers, betel, and musk, flew up and lit on his head. Seeing this, the monkey thought angrily, "What is this? Am I to allow this common creature to bite the king before my very eyes?"

With that he proceeded to drive it away. However, in spite of the monkey's defense, the bee approached the king again and again. Finally, blinded by anger, the monkey drew his sword and struck down the bee with a single blow. However, the same blow also split the king's head.

The queen, who was sleeping next to the king jumped up in terror. Seeing the crime, she said, "Oh, oh, you foolish monkey! What have you done to the king who placed such trust in you?"

The monkey explained how it had happened, but thereafter he was shunned and scorned by everyone. Thus it is said, "Do not choose a fool for a friend, for the king was killed by a monkey."

And I say, "It is better to have a clever enemy than a foolish friend."

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• Source: The Panchatantra, book 1, story 12.

• I have used the following edition: Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen. Aus dem Sanskrit übersetzt mit Einleitung und Anmerkungen von Theodor Benfey (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), vol. 2, pp. 154-155.

• Translation © 1999 by D. L. Ashliman.

• India's most influential contribution to world literature, the Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then the stories were already ancient. The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning "court scholar." The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.

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