Filipino Popular Tales

D >> Dean S. Fansler >> Filipino Popular Tales

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45

Now the boy was very happy again, for he had gotten his money back. As
he had already travelled very far, he did not know where he was:
he was lost. But he proceeded along the road until he met another
man, who said roughly to him, "Give me your money, or else you will
die!" Cecilio, thinking that he would rather live than try to defend
his wealth, which he would lose in any case, gave his purse to the
man. Then the boy went away and wept. While he was crying over his bad
luck, a very old woman came near him, and said, "Why are you weeping,
my boy?"

The boy replied, "I am weeping because somebody took my money."

"Well, why did you give it up?" said the old woman.

"I gave it up because he said that he would kill me if I didn't."

Then the old woman said, "Take this cane with you, and whenever you
see him, let it loose and pronounce these words:--

"'Sigue garrote, sigue garrote, [86]
Strike that fellow over there!'

"When you want the cane to stop, all you need to say is--

"'Stop, stop,
For that is enough!'"

The boy then said, "Is that all?"

"After you have recovered your money," said the old woman, "you must
turn back here; but you had better hurry up now."

Cecilio then bade the old woman good-by, and at once ran away to
overtake the man who had robbed him. When he saw the man, he said,
"Give me back my money, or else you now shall die, and not I!"

The man laughed at him, and said, "Of course I shall not give you
back your money."

When he heard these words, the boy said, "Is that so?" and, letting go
of his cane, he uttered the formula that the old woman had told him
to pronounce. The cane at once began to rain blows on the stranger's
head and body. When he could no longer endure the blows, and saw
that he could not catch the stick, the man said, "If you will call
off your cane, I will return your purse."

"Very well, I will pardon you," said Cecilio; "but if you had treated
me as you should have treated me and others, you would not have been
harmed." Then he said to the cane,--

"Stop, stop,
For that is enough!"

At once the magic stick stopped, and returned to its owner. The money
was given back, and the man promised Cecilio that he would not rob
any poor boy again.

On his way back toward the old woman, Cecilio met another man who
wanted to rob him; but the boy said, "Don't you dare attempt to take my
purse, or you will get yourself into trouble!" The man became angry,
and rushed at Cecilio to knock him down; but the boy pronounced the
words which the old woman had taught him, and let the cane loose. The
cane at once began to rain blows on the man's head and body. When he
could no longer endure the pain, the man asked Cecilio's pardon. As
the youth was kind-hearted, he forgave the man.

When he reached the old woman's house, Cecilio told her that the
cane had been very useful to him, for it had saved both his life and
his money. Then he returned the stick to the old woman, and thanked
her very much. She now offered to sell him a guitar which she had,
the price of which was five hundred centavos. Since she had been so
good to him, Cecilio at once agreed to the exchange; and after he
had once more bade her good-by, he set out for his master's house.

When he came near his old home, Cecilio saw his master Emilio shooting
at a very handsome bird on the top of a bamboo-tree. The bird fell
down, and the man ran to pick it up. As Emilio was making his way up
to the bird through the thorny bamboo undergrowth, Cecilio sat down
to wait for him, and, having nothing else to do, began to play his
guitar. The master at once began to dance among the bamboo-trees,
and he received many wounds because of the sharp spines. Now, in
reality, the boy was playing his guitar unintentionally, and did
not know of its magic power; but Emilio thought that Cecilio had
discovered the deceit that had been practised on him, and was playing
for revenge. Now, it happened that Emilio had a purse of money with
him to give to the laborers working in his hacienda, so he promised
to give all this money to Cecilio if he would only stop playing. The
boy, who had by this time learned of the magic power of his guitar,
stopped his music and received the money.

The crafty Emilio, however, at once hastened to the town, and asked
the magistrate to apprehend Cecilio, a young robber. Cecilio set out
for the old woman's house again; but the policemen soon overtook him,
arrested him, and took him before the magistrate. There the boy was
sentenced to death the next morning. Emilio's money was given back
to him. The following day, when he was about to be shot, Cecilio
asked permission to play his guitar once more, and he was not refused
it. As soon as he began to play, all began to dance, even his master,
who was still sore from the previous day's exercise. Finally Emilio
could endure no more. He begged Cecilio to stop playing, and promised
to give him all his wealth. He then told the soldiers to set the
boy free, for it was all his own fault. Cecilio stopped playing, and
was liberated by the magistrate. Emilio kept his word, and bestowed
on the boy all his wealth. When the old man died, Cecilio was the
richest man in the town. He became a capitan, [87] and was greatly
honored by the inhabitants of his barrio.

Notes.

A Tagalog variant of this story by the same narrator may be given
here in abstract. While this briefer form seems to bear evidence of
some contamination with the tale of "Cecilio," each, nevertheless,
preserves characteristics lacking in the other; and again, while the
two seem to be more or less distinct versions, there can be no doubt
that they go back to the same original. The title of the variant is
"The Fortunes of Andoy, an Orphan." In abstract it runs thus:--

Once a poor orphan named Andoy, while taking a walk, found a purse. On
his way home he met a man who, without a word, took the purse from
him. The boy beginning to cry, the man had pity on him, and returned
the purse, keeping only a few coins for himself. Andoy next met two
hunters, who robbed him; but these men had not gone far when two
genuine robbers met them, and a fight ensued in which all four were
killed. When Andoy heard the noise of the struggle, he ran to see what
was happening. He found hunters and robbers dead; so he recovered his
purse and went on. Not long afterward he met a hermit, who sold him a
magic cane. The next man he encountered was looking for a purse he had
lost in the road, and, when he saw Andoy's, took it without a word;
but the money did not really belong to this man. The boy immediately
turned his cane loose on his assailant, who, after being badly beaten,
confessed that the purse was not his, and promised Andoy half his
wealth if he would call off his stick. The rich man kept his word;
and when he died, Andoy received his entire fortune.

Another variant, which was collected by Mr. R. L. Rusk of Indiana
University, and which I have only in abstract, is called "Peter the
Violinist." It runs thus:--

Peter, a lazy ne'er-do-well, ran away from home, leaving his parents
to die of grief. For being kind to a sick "old woman" he was given a
magic violin. Soon after, he was arrested for climbing into a house
at night. When he was about to be hanged for a thief, he was granted
a last request. He asked to be allowed to play his favorite piece
on his violin. As soon as he began, every one commenced to dance. He
continued, and all cried out for him to stop; but he would not cease
until they pardoned him and promised to make him king besides.

The history of the cycle of tales to which our story and the two
variants belong has been traced briefly in Bolte-Polivka, 2 :
491-503. The earliest forms of the Maerchen are the Middle-English
poems of the fifteenth century entitled "Jack and his Step-Dame" and
"The Frere and the Boye."

Here the hero is Jack, who is hated by his step-mother. Since his
father is not willing to turn him out of the house altogether, the
step-mother manages to bring it about that Jack is set to watch
the cattle, and she allows him only rotten food. An old man with
whom he shares his victuals grants him three wishes in return for
his kindness. He asks for a bow and a fife; and the old man gives
him a bow that never misses its aim, and a fife that compels every
one to dance. He also grants Jack's third wish, that every time his
step-mother hurls a bad word at him or about him, she shall give forth
another noise not permitted in polite society. When this happens that
evening at home to the amusement of all, the step-mother plans to send
the monk Tobias into the field the next day to punish Jack. However,
Jack asks the monk to fetch from the brambles a bird which he has shot,
and then he begins to play dance-music for the monk. All scratched
and bloody, Tobias returns home. That night the father calls his
son to account; but he is so pleased at the effects of the magic
fife, that he decides not to punish the boy. The official, too,
the bishop's agent, at whose court the next Friday step-mother and
monk bring charges of witchcraft against Jack, has to hear the fife,
and is obliged to dance until he promises to let Jack go unpunished.

The English story seems to have passed over into Holland, where in
1528 a Dutch form appeared, with some additions. A most significant
modification appears in a German handling of the Dutch form, by
Dieterich Albrecht in 1599:--

Here the hero is not a cowherd plagued by his malicious step-mother,
but a simple-minded servant who serves an avaricious master for three
years and receives as pay three pfennigs for the whole time. Pleased
with his earnings, however, he goes away singing. When he meets two
beggars who ask him for alms, he gives them his three coins. They
grant him three wishes in return for his goodness; and he gets a
"never-miss" crossbow, a magic fiddle that makes all dance, and the
promise that no one shall ever be able to deny him a request. By a lake
he meets a monk, who jeers at his shooting-ability, and undertakes,
if the youth can bring down a raven there on the island, to swim over
naked and fetch the bird. Soon, however, the monk regrets his bargain,
for the crossbow does not miss. While the monk stands naked in the
bushes on the island, the boy begins to fiddle. Wailing and moaning,
the ecclesiastic promises the youth the hundred ducats that he has
stolen from the monastery, and he is now permitted to return and get
his clothes. But he treacherously follows the youth, lodges a complaint
against him with the council of the nearest city, and succeeds in
getting him condemned. When the youth is already on the gallows ladder,
he requests the judge to allow him to play just one more song; and
he makes all those present dance so violently, that the judge agrees
to pardon him if he will only cease playing. Then the monk confesses
his own theft and deceit, and receives his deserved punishment.

In this version, as Bolte and Polivka note (2 : 493), the chief
deviations from the English-Dutch form of the story are the omission
of the step-mother role, the nature of the third wish, and the
modification of the character of the monk, who, from a mere tool
of the step-mother, has here developed into a thieving rascal. A
Czech redaction (1604) of the German poem substitutes for the runaway
monk a Jew. This substitution is also found in the German prose tale
"Von Knecht Treurecht" (about 1690).

Of the modern oral folk-versions of the story, some are based on the
Middle-English droll; but by far the larger number omit the hostile
step-mother, and retain only the dance of the monk or the Jew and the
scene at the gallows. For a complete list of stories of this second
type, see Bolte-Polivka, 2 : 495-501. All the variants, both literary
and popular, cited in this bibliography, are Occidental; and we must
inevitably conclude that the story was imported into the Philippines
some time during the Spanish occupation of the Islands. Some rather
important differences are presented by our versions, however; and these
we shall call attention to briefly, first mentioning the details that
definitely connect our forms with the European.

The opening of the story of "Cecilio" is like that of Albrecht's,
given above. Our hero works four years for a cruel master, and
receives five hundred centavos as pay,--a sum with which he is more
than satisfied. At this point our story digresses. After two adventures
with robbers, in the first of which he recovers his money by a lucky
accident (this incident is considerably elaborated in the variant),
he meets an old woman who lends him a magic cane, and with its help
he is able to regain his money from a second robber. This feature
of the magic beating-stick seems to be borrowed from the preceding
story. He now returns the cane to the old woman, and she sells him
a magic guitar. The next adventure--with his former master, who is
substituted for the knavish monk--contains a distorted reminiscence of
the shooting of the bird, and ends with the dance among the thorns
(here bamboo-spines). The hero is bought off by his master, who
immediately rushes to town and accuses him of theft. The rest is
practically as in Albrecht.

While our version introduces two magic articles, it can be
seen that the first does not properly belong to the story. The
"three-wishes" incident, and accordingly the third wish itself, is
lacking altogether. A rather artistic attempt to unify the story as
a whole is the substitution of the rascally master introduced in the
beginning of the story, for the knavish monk or Jew later on; though
it is to be noticed that the narrator falls to motivate the hero's
return to the house that he had apparently left for good when he was
paid off. The episode of the shooting is obscure, and appears to be
only a vague echo of the detail definitely connected with one of the
three gifts in some of the European literary forms. Again, in "Cecilio"
the musical instrument is a guitar instead of the usual violin or fife;
while in the variant "Andoy" the magic cane is the only enchanted
object, no musical instrument appearing at all. The episode of the two
robbers killing each other over the treasure (paralleled in "Andoy,"
where two robbers fight with two hunters, and all four are killed)
is an interesting addition, the source of which I am unable to point
out. It may be derived from some moral tale related in kind to the
"Vedabbha-jataka," No. 48; "Cento Novelle Antiche," No. 82; Morlini,
No. 42; Chaucer's "Pardoner's Tale," etc.; although the characteristic
treachery emphasized in those stories is lacking here. The incident
is not found in other versions of our tale that I know of.

I am unable to name the immediate source of our story of "Cecilio"
and of the two variants; though, as has been remarked above, it was
pretty certainly European. None of the three seems to owe anything in
particular to the Spanish ballad printed in the "Romancero General,"
No. 1265, which Bolte and Polivka think is based directly on Grimm,
No. 110. The local modifications in our story, and the definite
native atmosphere maintained throughout, suggest that it is not a
recent importation.

An interesting animal version from South Africa, containing the magic
bow and magic fiddle, is given by Honey (p. 14), "The Monkey's Fiddle."
This story was doubtless taken over by the natives from the Dutch.

TALE 29

Chonguita.

Narrated by Pilar Ejercito, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. She
heard the story from her aunt, who had heard it when she was still
a little girl.

There was a king who had three sons, named Pedro, Diego, and Juan. One
day the king ordered these three gentlemen to set out from the kingdom
and seek their fortunes. The three brothers took different directions,
but before they separated they agreed to meet in a certain place in
the forest.

After walking for many days, Don Juan met an old man on the road. This
old man gave Don Juan bread, and told him to go to a palace which
was a mile away. "But as you enter the gate," said the old man,
"you must divide the bread which I have given you among the monkeys
which are guarding the gate to the palace; otherwise you will not be
able to enter."

Don Juan took the bread; and when he reached the palace, he did as
the old man had advised him. After entering the gate, he saw a big
monkey. Frightened at the sight of the animal, Don Juan was about
to tun away, when the animal called to him, and said, "Don Juan,
I know that your purpose in coming here was to find your fortune;
and at this very moment my daughter Chonguita will marry you." The
archbishop of the monkeys was called, and Don Juan and Chonguita were
married without delay.

A few days afterwards Don Juan asked permission from his wife to
go to the place where he and his brothers had agreed to meet. When
Chonguita's mother heard that Don Juan was going away, she said to him,
"If you are going away, take Chonguita with you." Although Don Juan was
ashamed to go with Chonguita because she was a monkey, he was forced to
take her, and they set out together. When Don Juan met his two brothers
and their beautiful wives at the appointed place, he could not say a
word. Don Diego, noticing the gloomy appearance of his brother, said,
"What is the matter with you? Where is your wife, Don Juan?"

Don Juan sadly replied, "Here she is."

"Where?" asked Don Pedro.

"Behind me," replied Don Juan.

When Don Pedro and Don Diego saw the monkey, they were very much
surprised. "Oh!" exclaimed Don Pedro, "what happened to you? Did you
lose your head?"

Don Juan could say nothing to this question. At last, however, he
broke out, "Let us go home! Our father must be waiting for us." So
saying, Don Juan turned around and began the journey. Don Pedro and
Don Diego, together with their wives, followed Don Juan. Chonguita
walked by her husband's side.

When the return of the three brothers was announced to the king,
the monarch hastened to meet them on the stairs. Upon learning that
one of his sons had married a monkey, the king fainted; but after he
had recovered his senses, he said to himself, "This misfortune is
God's will. I must therefore bear it with patience." The king then
assigned a house to each couple to live in.

But the more the king thought of it, the greater appeared to be the
disgrace that his youngest son had brought on the family. So one day
he called his three sons together, and said to them, "Tell your wives
that I want each one of them to make me an embroidered coat. The one
who falls to do this within three days will be put to death." Now,
the king issued this order in the hope that Chonguita would be put to
death, because he thought that she would not be able to make the coat;
but his hope was disappointed. On the third day his daughters-in-law
presented to him the coats that they had made, and the one embroidered
by Chonguita was the prettiest of all.

Still anxious to get rid of the monkey-wife, the king next ordered
his daughters-in-law to embroider a cap for him in two days, under
penalty of death in case of failure. The caps were all done on time.

At last, thinking of no other way by which he could accomplish his end,
the king summoned his three daughters-in-law, and said, "The husband of
the one who shall be able to draw the prettiest picture on the walls of
my chamber within three days shall succeed me on the throne." At the
end of the three days the pictures were finished. When the king went
to inspect them, he found that Chonguita's was by far the prettiest,
and so Don Juan was crowned king.

A great feast was held in the palace in honor of the new king. In
the midst of the festivities Don Juan became very angry with his wife
for insisting that he dance with her, and he hurled her against the
wall. At this brutal action the hall suddenly became dark; but after
a while it became bright again, and Chonguita had been transformed
into a beautiful woman.

Notes.

A Visayan variant of this story, though differing from it in many
details, is the story of the "Three Brothers," printed in JAFL 20
: 91-93.

A number of Indian Maerchen seem to be related more or less closely to
our story. Benfey cites one (1 : 261) which appears in the "Asiatic
Journal" for 1833.

Some princes are to obtain their wives by this device: each is to
shoot an arrow; and where the arrow strikes, there will each find his
bride. The arrow of the youngest hits a tamarind-tree; he is married
to it, but his bride turns out to be a female monkey. However,
he lives happily with her, but she never appears at his father's
court. The sisters-in-law are curious to know what kind of wife he
has. They persuade the father-in-law to give a least for all his sons'
wives. The prince is grieved over the fact that the secret will come
out. Then his wife comforts him; she lays off her monkey covering,
and appears as a marvellously beautiful maiden. She enjoins him to
preserve the monkey-skin carefully, since otherwise great danger
threatens her; but he, in order to keep her in her present beautiful
human form, burns the hide while she is at the feast. She disappears
instantly. The prince seeks her again, and at last discovers her in
heaven as the queen of the monkeys. There he remains with her.

In a Simla tale, "The Story of Ghose" (Dracott, 40 f.), the animal is
a squirrel, which is finally changed by the god Mahadeo into a human
being, after the little creature has performed many services for her
husband. Somewhat analogous, also, is Maive Stokes, "The Monkey Prince"
(No. x, p. 41 ff.). Compare also the notes to our No. 19 and Benfey's
entire discussion of "The Enchanted Son of the Brahman" (1 : 254-269).

These forms are not close enough to our version, however, to justify
our tracing it directly to any one of them. Both it and the Visayan
variant are members of the European cycle of tales represented by
Grimm's "Three Feathers" (No. 63). The skeleton outline of this family
group Bolte and Polivka construct as follows (2 : 37):--

A father wishes to test the skill of his three sons (or their wives),
and requests that they produce extraordinary or costly articles. The
despised youngest son wins the reward with the help of an enchanted
princess in the form of a cat, rat, frog, lizard, monkey, or as a doll,
or night-cap, or stocking. At last she regains her human form. The
disenchantment is sometimes accomplished by a kiss, or by beheading,
or by the hero's enduring for three nights in silence the blows
of spirits.

In only two of the variants cited by Bolte-Polivka (to Grimm, No. 63)
is the animal wife a monkey,--Comparetti, No. 58, "Le Scimmie;"
and Von Hahn, No. 67, "Die Aeffin." Of these, only the Greek story
resembles our tale; but here the similarities are so many, that I
will summarize briefly the main points of Von Hahn's version:--

An old king once called his three sons to him, and said, "My sons, I am
old; I should like to have you married, so that I may celebrate your
wedding with you before I die. Therefore each of you are to shoot an
arrow into the air, and to follow its course, for there each will find
what is appointed for him." The eldest shot first: his arrow carried
him to a king's daughter, whom he married. The second obtained a
prince's daughter. But the arrow of the third stuck in a dung-hill. He
dug a hole in it, and came to a marble slab, which, when raised,
disclosed a flight of stairs leading down. Courageously he descended,
and came to a cellar in which a lot of monkeys were sitting in a
circle. The mother of the monkeys approached him, and asked him what
he wanted. He answered, that, according to the flight of his arrow,
he was destined to have a monkey-wife. "Choose one for yourself,"
she said. "Here sit my maids; there, my daughters." He selected one,
and took her back to his father. His brothers, however, ridiculed him.

After a time the eldest son asked the king to divide up his kingdom,
as he was already old and was likely to die. "I'll give you three
tasks," said the king to his sons. "The one who performs them best
shall be king." The first count was to be won by the son whose house
forty days thence was cleanest and most beautifully adorned. The
youngest son was very sad when inspection-time approached. "Why so
sad?" said his wife. He told her; and she said to him on the morning
of the last day, "Go to my mother, and ask her for a hazel-nut and
an almond." He did so. When the time for inspection arrived, the
monkey-wife cracked the hazel-nut and drew from it a diamond covering
for the whole house. From the almond she drew a very beautiful
carpet for the king to walk on. Youngest son won the first count,
naturally. The second task was to furnish the king with fresh fruits
in the winter-time. The two oldest sons were unable to get any, but
the youngest son got a fine supply from the monkeys' garden under
the dunghill. The third count was to be won by the son whose wife
should be declared the most beautiful at a feast to be given ten
days thence. The monkey-wife sent her husband again for an almond,
a hazel-nut, two stallions, and five servants. When he returned with
them, she cracked the almond and drew from it a magnificent dress
for herself. From the hazelnut she drew her own beauty, and handsome
equipment for her husband. When she was arrayed, she rode into the
courtyard of the king, and tried to escape without being recognized;
but the king was too quick for her: she was caught, and her husband
was declared the final winner. He became king when his father died.