home a poetic rendition of
THE DRAGON
Day 4, Tale 5
A Debt Repaid
The king was a tyrant, a merciless tyrant.
A sorceress usurped his throne.
She was well guarded, extremely well guarded.
He could not dislodge the old crone.
He consulted a statue, a soothsaying statue
who told him, King, try as you might,
you will not regain it, you may not regain it
until she’s deprived of her sight.
The king preyed on women, on innocent women,
on any he managed to catch.
He robbed them of honor, their virginal honor.
Next day they were killed with dispatch.
He caught Porziella. He raped Porziella,
and was ready to finish her life,
but a bird dropped a potion, a magical potion,
on the arm which was holding his knife.
His arm started trembling, so hard was it trembling
he could not keep hold of the blade.
This bird was a fairy, a kind-hearted fairy,
who had a large debt to be paid.
The fairy’d been sleeping, in woods she’d been sleeping.
A satyr intended her harm.
Porziella had seen him, in time she had seen him,
and managed to sound the alarm.
The fairy was grateful, enormously grateful,
and followed the girl from that day.
But the king thought, Her beauty. It must be her beauty
that stops me. I’ll lock her away.
He still meant to kill her. Of course he would kill her,
but now he would starve her instead.
He fashioned a garret. She sat in that garret
with nothing to drink and no bread.
The bird spoke, Have courage. I’ll help you. Have courage,
in words that the girl understood.
I thank you. Who are you? Please tell me, who are you?
Her questioning did her no good.
The bird brought a dagger, a sharp pointed dagger
and told Porziella to dig.
Make a hole to the kitchen, just over the kitchen.
Take care not to make it too big.
The bird watched intently, she waited intently.
When cook had an errand to run,
she pilfered a hen, a warm roasted hen
and some grapes for the imprisoned one.
Day by day she sustained her. With food she sustained her.
Porziella was thus kept alive.
She gave birth to a boy, a fine baby boy.
Miuccio was able to thrive.
When Miuccio was grown, to a lad he was grown,
with some ropes he was lowered below.
Porziella first warned him, with fervor she warned him,
Your origin no one must know.
He stood in the kitchen, the king’s palace kitchen,
where a steward said, You’re a fine lad.
The king wants a page, and you’d make a good page.
Come with me and the king will be glad.
The king was well pleased, so well was he pleased
that he took the boy straight to his heart
saying, Son, I will teach you. I’m going to teach you
the chivalric gentleman’s art.
This angered the queen. I have sons, said the queen,
and he treats my sons worse than this pup.
But I’m going to fix him. Oh yes. I will fix him.
He’ll slide down the stairs bottom up.
Miuccio has boasted. I’ve heard he has boasted,
she said to the king, on a dare,
that he can build castles, three beautiful castles,
and cause them to float in mid-air.
The king said, Miuccio, my clever Miuccio,
go finish the song that you sing.
Three castles? You make them. By morning you make them
or I’ll hang you, as I am the king.
Miuccio sat weeping, in fear he was weeping.
The bird said, Here’s what you must do.
On pasteboard draw castles, three elegant castles,
and fetch me some string and some glue.
She fastened the castles, those plain pasteboard castles
to birds whom she ordered to fly.
The king then bore witness, his courtiers bore witness
to castles afloat in the sky.
The king gave him presents, munificent presents.
The queen, though, was seething with rage.
She slept and she dreamed, of Miuccio she dreamed
and of how to get rid of this page.
My husband, she said, it is time, surely time.
Blind the sorceress. Take power once more.
Miuccio can blind her, he says he can blind her.
Why has he not done it before?
You’re right, said the king, You are perfectly right.
Miuccio, he said, self-engrossed,
you have taken my gifts but despite all my gifts
you’ve withheld from me what I want most.
Go blind the old witch, take the eyes from the witch.
Do my bidding at once, or you’ll pay!
Miuccio was stricken, by grief he was stricken.
He nodded and tiptoed away.
Once more came the bird, that magnficent bird.
I am here and I’ll put out the fire.
She went to the forest. All birds of the forest,
come here. There’s a boon I require.
Who’ll pluck out the eyes, the malevolent eyes
of the crone? Said a swallow, I will.
Your reward will be safety. From hawks you’ll have safety
and from hunters intent on the kill.
The swallow accomplished what none had accomplished.
The witch screamed and ran from the throne.
The bird said, Miuccio, my darling Miuccio,
tell the king now to leave you alone.
But the queen was incensed, she was doubly incensed
for the king simply worshipped the boy.
So she thought of the dragon. If he fights the dragon
he’ll die. At least that was her ploy.
The dragon was fierce. He was fire-breathing fierce
and related, by birth, to the queen.
If the dragon should die then the queen, too, would die
unless smeared with the blood from its spleen.
But she didn’t imagine, she couldn’t imagine
Miuccio would vanquish the beast.
Miuccio’s a treasure, she said. The king’s treasure
should pay him with interest at least.
He talks of the dragon. He can kill the dragon.
If that’s true, said the king, then he must.
Miuccio, go do it. She says you can do it.
I’ll give you my crown and my trust.
In despair Miuccio pleaded, in vain Miuccio pleaded.
Who’s told you this terrible lie?
Do you love me or hate me? I think you must hate me,
for surely my ending is nigh.
The king put his foot down, his obdurate foot down.
Miuccio was doomed to his fate.
Miuccio, don’t worry, the bird said. Don’t worry
I love you. It isn’t too late.
Take this herb to the dragon, the cave of the dragon.
When you get there just throw it within.
The beast will be sleepy. At once he’ll be sleepy.
When he snores it is time to begin.
With your knife you will slay him. With ease you may slay him.
The queen will feel agonies too.
The queen lay in bed. The queen writhed on her bed.
Oh, my husband. My poor life is through.
I’ll die and be buried. Before I am buried
there’s one service more that I need.
Swear you’ll smear me with blood, with the dragon’s own blood
if you love me. The king said, Agreed.
She then told the story, the whole of the story.
But why send Miuccio? he said.
I thought he’d be slaughtered. I wanted him slaughtered.
With these final words, she was dead.
Miuccio returned and no sooner returned
than sent back by the king for his vow.
This time the king followed. In secret he followed.
The bird asked Miuccio, Where now?
I go where he sends me. No rest, but he sends me.
And where to this time, and what for?
For the blood of the dragon, the spleen of the dragon.
Don’t go! cried the bird. I implore.
The blood will revive her. Its blood will revive her.
The queen is the source of your woes.
It is she who sought dangers, who sent you to dangers
the king was too weak to oppose.
He should have known better, from love known you better
to be his own son, as you are.
And your mother, Porziella, the gracious Porziella
would grieve from her garret afar.
You can’t go, Miuccio. Stay with me, Miuccio.
The king overheard every word.
But as she was speaking, a maiden was speaking.
The bird was no longer a bird.
He sent for Porziella, the saintly Porziella
grown prettier over the years.
How can you forgive me? Oh will you forgive me?
he asked through his bounteous tears.
And you. I’ll reward you. I want to reward you,
he said to the bird, now a maid.
Just give me Miuccio, our precious Miuccio.
That done, all the debts will be paid.
Porziella was married. Her son, too, was married
and back to their kingdom they went.
And so it is said, it is frequently said,
that a good deed is seldom misspent.
