Bread, Wine, and Salt

Once upon a time, there was a king who had three daughters: one with black hair, another with red hair, and the youngest with golden hair.

The eldest was plain-looking, the middle one was not very beautiful, but the youngest was kind and very lovely. Because of this, her older sisters envied her. The king had three thrones: one white, one red, and one black. When the king was in a good mood, he sat on the white throne; when he was less cheerful, he sat on the red one; and when he was angry, he sat on the black throne.

One day, the king became furious with his two eldest daughters and sat on the black throne. They began to fuss around him, trying to win his favor. The eldest daughter said:

"Dear father, did you sleep well? Are you angry with me, since you’re sitting on the black throne?"

"Yes, I’m angry with you."

"Why, dear father?"

"Because you don’t love me at all!"

"Me? Oh no, dear father, I love you so much!"

"How much?"

"As much as bread!"

The king frowned but said nothing, as he rather liked her answer.

Then the second daughter approached and said:

"Dear father, did you sleep well? Why are you sitting on the black throne? Are you angry with someone?"

"Yes, I’m angry. With you."

"Why, dear father?"

"Because you don’t love me at all!"

"Me? But I love you so much!"

"How much?"

"As much as wine."

The king muttered something under his breath but seemed satisfied.

Then the youngest daughter came, cheerful and gentle.

"Dear father, did you sleep well? Why are you sitting on the black throne? Are you angry with me?"

"Yes, with you, because you don’t love me either!"

"Oh no, I love you very much."

"How much?"

"As much as salt."

Hearing this, the king shouted:

"What?! As much as salt?! You wretched girl! Get out of my sight, and don’t let me see you again!"

He ordered her to be taken into the forest and killed.

The queen dearly loved her youngest daughter. When she learned of the king’s order, she began to think of how to save her. In the palace, there was a large silver candlestick, big enough for Cizzola—the youngest princess—to hide inside. The queen told her to climb into the candlestick.

"Sell this candlestick," she said to her faithful servant. "If someone tries to bargain, charge more from a poor man but less from a nobleman, and give it to him."

The mother hugged her youngest daughter, blessed her, and placed dried figs, chocolate, and cookies inside the candlestick.

The servant took the candlestick to the square. People began to haggle, but no one pleased the servant, so he demanded an exorbitant price. Then a prince from the Kingdom of High Towers approached, examined the candlestick, and asked how much it cost. The servant named a trifling sum, and the prince ordered it to be brought to his palace. There, it was placed in the dining hall, and all the courtiers marveled at its beauty.

That evening, the prince went out. He disliked being waited on, so the servants prepared his dinner, left it on the table, and went to bed. Cizzola saw that the hall was empty, jumped out of the candlestick, ate the dinner, and hid again.

When the prince returned, there was not a crumb left on the table! He rang all the bells and began scolding the servants. They swore they had left the dinner, so it must have been eaten by a cat or a dog.

"Next time, I’ll throw you all out," the prince threatened, ordered another dinner, ate it, and went to bed.

The next evening, the hall was locked, but the same thing happened. The prince became so angry that he nearly brought the house down with his shouting. Then he calmed down and said:

"Let’s see what happens tomorrow."

The next day, he devised a plan. The tablecloth hung down to the floor, so he hid beneath it. The servants brought the dishes, shooed the cat and dog out of the room, and locked the door. As soon as they left, the beautiful Cizzola jumped out of the candlestick. She ran to the table and began eating heartily. The prince leaped out and grabbed her by the hand. She struggled, but he held her tightly. Then Cizzola fell to her knees before the prince and told him everything.

The prince fell madly in love with her. He comforted her and said:

"Soon, you’ll be my wife. For now, hide back in the candlestick."

The prince couldn’t sleep all night, so smitten was he. In the morning, he ordered the candlestick to be moved to his room, claiming it was too beautiful to part with even at night. Then he ordered large amounts of food to be brought to his room, saying his appetite had grown. They brought him coffee, then breakfast, then lunch—all for two. As soon as the servants brought the dishes, the prince locked the door, released Cizzola from the candlestick, and they feasted together merrily.

The queen mother, who now had to dine alone, began to complain:

"What have I done to displease my son? Why won’t he dine with me? What have I done to him?"

The prince kept asking her to be patient, claiming he had important matters to attend to. Then one fine day, he said:

"I want to get married!"

"Who is the bride?" asked the queen, delighted.

The prince replied:

"I want to marry the candlestick!"

"Have you gone mad?" gasped the queen, covering her face with her hands.

But the prince stood his ground. His mother tried to reason with him, asking him to consider what people would say. But he wouldn’t listen and ordered everything to be ready for the wedding in a week.

On the appointed day, a great procession of carriages left the palace. In the first carriage rode the prince, with the candlestick beside him. They arrived at the church. The prince ordered the candlestick to be carried to the altar. The candlestick opened, and out jumped Cizzola, dressed in silk and velvet, wearing a precious necklace and sparkling earrings.

They were married, returned to the palace, and told the queen everything.

The queen, being a wise woman, said:

"Leave it to me; I’ll teach her father a lesson."

They held a wedding feast and sent invitations to all the neighboring kings, including Cizzola’s father. The queen ordered a special meal for him: all the dishes were prepared without salt. She told the guests that the bride was unwell and couldn’t join them at the table.

The guests began to eat. But Cizzola’s father found his soup completely bland and grumbled under his breath:

"What kind of cook forgets to salt the soup?" He didn’t eat a single spoonful.

Other dishes were served, also without salt. The king pushed his fork away.

"Why aren’t you eating, Your Majesty? Don’t you like it?"

"No, no, it’s all very delicious!"

"Then why aren’t you eating?"

"Oh, you know, I’m just not hungry."

He tried the meat, chewed and chewed, but the unsalted piece wouldn’t go down. Then he remembered his daughter’s words, that she loved him as much as salt. He repented, burst into tears, and said through his sobs:

"Oh, what a fool I’ve been! What have I done?"

The queen asked what had happened, and he told her about Cizzola. She stood up and ordered the bride to be called. The king embraced his daughter, crying and asking how she had come here and how she had been saved.

They sent for Cizzola’s mother and celebrated the wedding anew—feasting day after day. Perhaps they’re still dancing to this day.

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Bread, Wine, and Salt

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