The Tricks of Campriano
Once there lived a peasant named Campriano. He had a wife and a donkey. He worked in the fields, and often the Cicciorani would pass by and usually ask him:– What are you doing, Campriano? Come take a walk with us.
And Campriano would take his donkey and trudge along behind them. One morning, Campriano placed some gold coins under the donkey’s tail. As usual, the Cicciorani passed by.
Campriano said:
– Wait, I’ll come with you.
He loaded up the donkey and plodded along with the Cicciorani.
It was spring, and the grass was green. Along the way, the donkey ate so much grass that it began to empty its stomach, spilling out all the gold that Campriano had hidden under its tail.
The Cicciorani were utterly amazed and asked:
– Campriano, old friend! Does your donkey make money?
And Campriano replied:
– All my wealth is in him. If it weren’t for this donkey, I’d have kicked the bucket long ago.
The Cicciorani said:
– Sell us the donkey, Campriano! Sell it!
– Oh no, you can’t just sell a donkey like this!
– Well, if it were for sale, how much would it cost? How much?
– I wouldn’t sell it even for mountains of gold. But if you gave me three hundred scudi, then maybe...
The Cicciorani rummaged through their pockets and together scraped up three hundred scudi. They took the donkey and headed home. At home, they told their wives to spread white sheets in the stable, saying they’d collect the gold coins the donkey would make overnight. At dawn, the Cicciorani rushed to the stable and saw something yellow on the sheets. They grabbed it, but it was just manure.
– Campriano tricked us! Let’s kill Campriano!
They grabbed pitchforks and shovels and rushed to Campriano’s house.
His wife looked out the window.
– Campriano isn’t home, he’s in the vineyard.
– We’ll make him come out of there,– shouted the Cicciorani, running to the vineyard.– Campriano, come out! We’re going to kill you!
Campriano appeared among the grapevines.
– What for?– he asked.
– You sold us a donkey, but it doesn’t make money.
Campriano replied:
– First, we need to see how you’ve been feeding it.
– We’ve fed it well: fresh grass and sweet mash.
– Poor donkey! You’ve practically killed it. It’s used to coarse food; that’s where its money-making strength comes from. I see! I’ll have to go with you and check on the donkey. If it’s healthy, I’ll take it back. If not, I’ll leave it with you. Wait here, I’ll be right back,– added Campriano.– I just need to run home.
– Fine! Hurry back, we’ll wait here.
Campriano ran to his wife and said:
– Put a pot of beans on the fire. And when I come back with the Cicciorani and we enter the house, act like you’re taking the boiling beans out of the cupboard. Got it?
Then Campriano went with the Cicciorani to the stable. The donkey stood on the sheets, surrounded by piles of manure.
– I’m amazed it’s still alive,– said Campriano,– but it’s no good for work now. Oh, what have you done to it! If I’d known you’d treat it like this! Poor donkey!
The Cicciorani were embarrassed:
– What should we do?
– What should you do? Fine, just keep quiet!
– Yes, yes, it’s our fault!
– Well, here’s what: come to my place for lunch, let’s make peace and forget the past.
They went to the house. Campriano saw the door was locked. He knocked, and his wife came out of the stable, looking as if she’d just returned from somewhere.
They entered the house. There was no fire in the hearth, and Campriano said to his wife:
– What, didn’t you cook lunch?
– I just got back from the field,– she replied.– But don’t worry.
She set the table and went to the cupboard, where a pot of boiling beans sat.
– What a miracle!– exclaimed the Cicciorani.– The pot boils in the cupboard? Without fire, and it boils!
– If it weren’t for this pot,– remarked Campriano,– we’d be in trouble. We can go to the fields with peace of mind, knowing lunch will be ready.
– Campriano,– cried the Cicciorani,– sell us this pot!
– Not for anything in the world!
– Campriano, we messed up with the donkey, but you’ll sell us this pot. Here’s three hundred scudi.
Campriano sold the pot for three hundred scudi, and the Cicciorani left. Then his wife said to Campriano:
– The Cicciorani almost killed you over the donkey. What will you do now?
– Wait, I’ll be right back,– said Campriano. He went to the butcher, bought a bull’s bladder, had it filled with fresh blood, and then told his wife:
– Hide this bladder under your clothes and don’t be scared when I lunge at you with a knife.
The Cicciorani arrived with sticks and clubs:
– We want to kill you! Give us our money back, or we’ll beat you to death.
– What’s the matter? What happened? Out with it!
– You told us the pot boils without fire. We went to work with our wives, came back, and the beans were still raw.
– Calm down, calm down! My wife must have done something. We’ll ask her: she probably gave you the wrong pot.
He called his wife and said:
– Confess, did you give these people the wrong pot?
And his wife replied:
– You’re giving away our things without my knowledge, and then you send me to the field. I won’t give them the pot.
Campriano shouted:
– You wretch!– He grabbed a knife and stabbed the bladder hidden under her clothes. Blood sprayed everywhere. The bloodied woman fell and didn’t move.
The Cicciorani turned pale with horror.
– You killed your wife over a pot, Campriano?
Campriano looked at his wife lying in a pool of blood and pretended to feel sorry for her:
– Oh, poor thing! Well, she’ll come back to life now.– He pulled a reed from his pocket, put it in her mouth, blew three times, and the woman stood up, healthy and unharmed as before.
The Cicciorani blinked in astonishment.
– Campriano, sell us that reed!
– Oh no,– declared Campriano.– I have to kill my wife so many times. How else will I bring her back?
But the Cicciorani wouldn’t give up, and Campriano sold them the reed for three hundred scudi. At home, the Cicciorani started fights with their wives and killed them all. The guards arrested the Cicciorani while they were still blowing into the reed, and the court sentenced them to hard labor.
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