smiling.
And so one after the other all the winds entered, and the last to enter
was Sirocco, for you must know that Sirocco is the youngest of Borea's
sons. Scarcely had they entered when they began to say: "What smell of
human flesh is here? Here Christians, Christians!" "Oh, bad luck to you!
what fools you are! Where is there any smell of human flesh here? Who do
you think would risk their lives by coming here?" But her sons would not
be convinced, especially that obstinate Sirocco. Lionbruno commended his
soul to God, for he saw death at his heels. But finally Borea succeeded
in convincing her sons. "Oh, mamma, what is there to eat to-night? We
have travelled so far, and are so hungry!" "Here, my sons," the mother
answered, "come here; for a nice polenta is cooking for you. I will
finish cooking it soon, and put it at once on the table." The next day
Borea said to her sons: "My sons, when you came you said you smelled
human flesh. Tell me, should you really see a man now, what would you do
to him?" "Now, we would not do anything to him. Last night, we should
have torn him in pieces." "But you would not do anything to him, truly?"
"Truly." "Well, if you will give me your promise by St. John not to harm
him, I will show you a live man." "Oh! just see! A man here! Yes, yes,
mamma, show him to us at once. We swear by St. John! we will not touch a
hair of his head." Then their mother opened the chest and made Lionbruno
come forth. If you had heard the winds then! They puffed and blowed
around him and asked him, first of all, how he had come to that place,
where no living soul had ever penetrated. Lionbruno said: "Would to
heaven that my journey ended here! I must go to the palace of the fairy
Colina; perhaps one of you can tell me where it is?" Then Borea asked
her sons one by one and each replied that he knew nothing of it. Finally
she questioned her youngest son: "And you, Sirocco, do you not know
anything about it?" "I? Should I not know something about it? Am I
perchance like my brothers who never can find a hiding-place? The fairy
Colina is love-sick. She says that her lover has betrayed her, and
continually weeps, and is so reduced by her grief that she can live but
little longer. And I deserve to be hanged, for I have seen her in this
condition, and yet I have annoyed her so that I have driven her to
despair. I amused myself by making a noise about her palace, and more
than once I burst open windows and turned thin