The Three Sisters-An Italian folktale

      The Three Sisters - Part 2

            -An Italian Folktale

   When Nella heard the cause of the Prince's illness, she cried and wept angrily and said to herself, "Who is the wicked soul who has broken the passage and caused so much sorrow?" But as the Demon’s wife now went on speaking Nella was as silent as a mouse and listened.

"And is it possible," said the Demon’s wife, "that the world is lost to this poor Prince, and that no medicine can be found for his crisis?"

"Hark-ye, Granny," replied the Demon, "the doctors are not called upon to find remedies that may pass the bounds of nature. This is not a fever that will yield to medicine and diet, much less are these ordinary wounds which require lint and oil; for the charm that was on the broken glass produces the same effect as onion juice does on the iron heads of arrows, which makes the wound incurable. There is one thing only that could save his life, but don't ask me to tell it to you, for it is a thing of importance."

"Do tell me, dear old Long-tusk," cried the Demon lady; "tell me, if you would not see me die."

"Well then," said the Demon, "I will tell you provided you promise me not to confide it to any living soul, for it would be the ruin of our house and the destruction of our lives."

An Italian Folktale-The Three Sisters

   This Italian folktale story is collected from the famous ancient Italian folktales collection, named “Stories from Pentamerone”. This book was first published at Naples and it was written by - Giambattista Basile.

        The Three Sisters - Part 1

           - An Italian Folktales

   There was at one time a woman who had three daughters, two of whom were so unlucky that nothing ever succeeded with them, all their projects went wrong, all their hopes were turned to tease. But the youngest, who was named “Nella”, was born to good luck, and I verily believe that at her birth all things conspired to present on her the best and choicest gifts in their power. The Sky gave her perfection of its light; Venus, matchless beauty of form; Love, the first dash of his power; Nature, the flower of manners. She never set about any work that it did not go off to a nicety; she never took anything in hand that it did not succeed to a hair; she never stood up to dance, that she did not sit down with praise.

   On which account she was envied by her jealous sisters and yet not so much as she was loved and wished well to by all others; as greatly as her sisters desired to put her underground, so much more did other folks carry her on the palms of their hands.

   Now there was in that country a charming Prince who was so attracted by Nella’s beauty that he secretly married her. And in order that they might enjoy one another's company without exciting the doubt of the mother, who was a wicked woman. The Prince made a crystal passage which led from the royal palace directly into Nella's apartment, although it was eight miles distant.