Part 30 (1/2)

LA VIA DEL FICO.

”There stood formerly in the Via del Fico a very ancient palace with a garden, in which there grew a fig-tree which was said to have grown of itself, or without ever having been planted. This tree bore much fruit of great beauty.

”But however proud the owner of the tree was of its beauty, or however much he might desire to have its fruit, something always strangely occurred to prevent its being enjoyed. For when any one was about to pluck it, there suddenly appeared a great black dog, who, seizing men or women by their garments, dragged them away, beginning to howl and bay.

{205} And then they hurried away and let the figs alone, in order to make the dog cease his terrible unearthly baying; for it is believed to be an omen of death when a dog utters such sounds, it being such a presage of disaster as when a _civetta_ or small owl hoots on the roof.

”However, it sometimes happened that the dog did not come, but those who took and ate the figs fared just as badly all the same. For they soon began to feel ill and suffer dire pains, and when they had gone into their bedrooms and laid down, there always entered a beautiful girl clad in white, who began to whirl round (_a girarsi_) or spin, making all the time a great buzzing sound, until horror came over them, which when she perceived, she vanished.

”And many tried also to lop off boughs from the fig-tree, but they were found the second night replaced by a perfect new growth with fully ripe fruit. And it was not the least marvel of the tree that it was always in full leaf, with abundance of ripe figs on it, even in winter, when there was snow on the ground.

”One day men digging in the garden found a tablet of stone or metal on which was inscribed:

”'Il fico rispettate E non la toccate,'

E non cercate Neppure mangiarne.'

”'Respect the tree, and let it be, From branch to root, nor touch its fruit!

Of itself the tree did grow, From a dog who long ago, Enchanted by the fairies' power, Was buried here in mystic hour; Therefore we bid you let it stand, And if you follow the command You will be happy all your days, But woe to him who disobeys!'

”Now, the owner of the palazzo and garden was a man who had no faith in old legends, or love for such mysteries as these, and so he said, 'It is time to put an end to all this superst.i.tion, and I am determined to at once see whether all my prosperity depends on a fig-tree; so do you cut it down and tear it up, root and branch, utterly.'

”This was at once done by the labourers, but, while doing so, they heard sounds as of wailing and great lamenting in the earth beneath them. And when they, astonished, asked the signore to listen to the voices, he replied, 'Away with your superst.i.tions; we will see this time whether the tree will grow or return again.'

”Truly it did not return, but pa.s.sed away for ever, and with it all the property and prosperity of the lord. For in time he had to sell all he had, and, losing what he got, died in poverty. Then those who had to go in the street where his palace had been would say, '_Andiamo nella Via del Fico_,' just as they say, '_Andar per la Via de' Carri_,' but meaning to 'go in the way of what is worthless or poverty-stricken,' and so it was that the street came by its name.”

This strange tale, which is evidently of great antiquity, and deeply inspired with real witch tradition, has, indeed, nothing in common with the pretty fairy stories which are so generally presented as const.i.tuting the whole of popular narrative folklore. It was not made nor intended to serve as a pleasing tale for youth, but to embody certain ideas which the witch-teacher explained to the pupil. The first of these is, that the _fig-tree_ planted under certain circ.u.mstances became a kind of Luck of Eden Hall to its possessor. This story comes from the Etruscan-Roman land, where traditions have been preserved with incredible fidelity. In the olden time Tarquin the Elder planted a fig-tree in a public place in Rome, and it was a matter of common faith that this tree would flourish for ever if undisturbed, and that on it depended the prosperity and preservation of the city. {207} And in India, the motherland of Greek and Roman mythology, it was believed that whenever one of certain ancient fig-trees died, that the reigning family would pa.s.s away. The opinion was widely spread that the fig-tree was above all others the one of life and destiny. In the Bagvatgeta, Krishna says of himself: ”I am the spirit, the beginning, the middle, and the end of creation. I am as the _Aswatha_ (_pipal _or Indian fig) among trees.” Hence it came that many Christians believed that the Tree of Life in Eden was not an apple but a fig-tree. The traditions which establish the fig-tree as being above all others one on whose existence that of individuals, families, and states depended, are extremely numerous and varied. ”It was,” remarks Alt, ”not only a symbol of fertility, but an emblem of ever-renewed and never-extinguished _vitality_, and one of eternity, the resurrection, and of the transmigration of the soul.” On the celebrated altar in Ghent, the Tree of Life is represented as a fig-tree (Menzel, _Christliche Symbolik_, i. 277). This universal belief explains why the fig-tree determines the duration and destiny of lives and families.

It may have struck the reader as singular that those who eat of the forbidden figs are punished by the visit of a beautiful girl who whirls around with a buzzing sound till they are overcome by awe. Here be it noted first of all, that the fig, like the pear, is exactly the shape of a top, even the stem representing the peg. Now, in ancient Latin witchlore or sorcery, extraordinary magic power, or even sanct.i.ty, was attached to everything which made a humming or buzzing sound. It was supposed, when properly made, with certain incantations or instruments, to be capable of throwing people into a trance. Chief among these instruments was the top. Thus Horace begs Crattidia to stop the enchantment of the buzzing top (Ode xv. Book v.).

On this subject I find the following in _Diavoli e Streghe_, by Dr. A.

Zangolini, 1864:

”The _rombo_ {208} is an instrument not unlike the _trottola_ or peg-top of our boys, called in Latin _turbo_, and in common language also _paleo_. It was believed that with it in witchcraft a lover could have his head turned with pa.s.sion, or that he would be turned at will while it spun. The same held true of other disks (tee-totums) of wood, iron, or copper.”

This idea was extended to the hum of spinning-wheels, which aided the conception of the Fates, and the thread of life, to the buzzing of bees and flies, and many other variations of such sounds. Mr. Andrew Lang has in an admirable paper shown that the _bull-roarer_ has been regarded as so sacred among certain savages that women, or the profane, were not allowed to touch it. A bull-roarer is so easily constructed, that it is remarkable how few people are familiar with it. Take a common stick, say six inches in length, tie a cord three feet long to one end, and, grasping the other, whirl it round, with the result of astonis.h.i.+ng all to whom it is not familiar by its sound:

”First it is but a gentle hum, Like bird-song warbling in the trees, Then like a torrent it doth foam, And then a wild and roaring breeze.”

When vigorously spun, it may be heard of a calm evening for a mile, and its effect is then indescribably-I will not say, as most novelists here would, ”_weird_,” for I do not know that it prophesies anything, but it is certainly most suggestive of something mysterious.

Therefore the bayadere, with her spinning _pas seul_ and buzzing _romore_, who appears to the eater of the figs, is the magic top in person, her form being taken from the fig. The connection of the enchanted dog with the tree is not so clear, but it may be observed that there is a vast ma.s.s of tradition which makes the black dog a _chthonic_, that is, a subterranean or under-earthly symbol, and that in this story he comes out of the earth. This animal was a special favourite of Hecate-Diana of the world below, the queen of all the witches.

There is a vast quant.i.ty of folklore in reference to the fig as an emblem of fertility, reproduction, and sensual affinity, and, on the other side, of its being an emblem often used in proverbs to express the very contrary, or trifling value, worthlessness, and poverty. Thus, the barren fig-tree of the New Testament had a deep signification to all who were familiar with these poetic and mystic ”correspondences.” The reader has probably observed that in this story there is, as in a parable, a strong intimation of symbolism, or as if more were meant than meets the ear.

”Remains to be said,” that the putting the thumb between the index and middle finger, which was regarded with awe by the Romans as driving away evil spirits, was called ”making the fig,” or _far la castagna_, to make the chestnut-in Latin, _medium ostendere digitum_. The same sign as the fig to drive away devils became a deadly insult when made at any one, as if he were a wizard and accursed. It had also a jeering and indecent meaning. It has been said that the fig, as a synonym for anything worthless, originated from the great abundance and cheapness of the fruit in Greece, but this is very unsatisfactory, since it would apply as well to olives or grain.

”This tale doth teach,” notes the learned Flaxius, ”as regards the folklore of the black dog, that in this life most things are good or bad, as we take them. For the black dog, Monsieur, of Cornelius Agrippa (like that in Faust) was a demon, albeit his pupil, Wierus, records that he himself knew the animal well, but never supposed there was aught of the goblin in it. And this same Wierus has mentioned (_loc. cit._, p. m.