The Pomegranates and Other Modern Italian Fairy Tales by Cristina Mazzoni

Author:Cristina Mazzoni
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Princeton University Press
Published: 2021-06-14T00:00:00+00:00

VIII.

Their return was triumphant, celebrated with an abundance of roses and musical instruments playing sublime songs. But the people said, looking at the new princess: “This, then, is the famous Blood-and-Milk? This, then, is the beauty of beauties? This is the fiancée who comes from afar?”

The court poets worked hard to find rhymes of praise, but their words showed very little passion, and the aristocratic ladies laughed cruelly, looking at the rough and ugly face of the false Vienda.

The wedding feast was ready, and the princes, dukes, counts, barons—in short, all the gravest lords of the realm—were sitting at the dinner table. The servants brought steaming peacocks on silver bowls, with their feathers still in place, and the cup bearers poured rivulets of wine from alabaster urns into agate goblets. Musicians played and dancers danced to cheer up everyone’s heart.

The mother queen gently leaned toward her son and asked him: “Remember, dear son, that drop of blood that fell on the cheese and gave you the desire for a bride who was Blood-and-Milk?”

As soon as the drop of blood was mentioned, a snow-white dove came in through a balcony, descended on the table, and started moaning sweetly.

“Kill that dove!” cried the false princess as she got up suddenly, pale and dismayed.

The king’s son took out his sword and killed the dove in flight, but from the dove’s death a human life appeared: it was Vienda’s shape, the beautiful Blood-and-Milk, and she lit up the entire party, like a sunrise.

Overtaken by marvel, all present were silent.

“Here is your bride!” sang the Borea’s daughter, stretching her arms out to the prince. “Here is the bride who died for you and for you is alive again.”

The prince ran into her arms and said, “Here is your bridegroom, my queen!”

Then the Borea’s daughter kissed the mouth of the king’s son, so that she was forever his.

All around, the cries and greetings multiplied, as flower petals rained down on everyone and rivers of wine flowed freely. The evil woman was burned alive, in front of the balconies of the royal palace, and the flames made the crockery and cups of the party sparkle once again.

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