Ribald Classics

The Cure For Snobbery

When Calandrino, a penniless Florentine oaf, came suddenly into a small inheritance of two hundred lire, his character was radically changed.

The dull-witted stare by which he was known became a haughty sneer. His aimless, shuffling gait was transformed into a pompous glide. His stupidity, if possible, grew deeper. And his friends were demoted, in his mind, to a station so low he considered it an act of charity to bid them good morning.

Bruno and Buffalmacco were at one time his heartiest companions. Good fellows both, they were deeply hurt by his new attitude, and being clever rascals, they decided to teach him a lesson. Into their confidence they took two more ex-friends of Calandrino's--a man named Nello and a jolly physician, Doctor Simone.

Early one morning, Nello greeted Calandrino on the street. "Good day, old friend!" he said. Then he stopped and peered into Calandrino's face. "I have heard that wealth brings many worries, but I would never have expected such a healthy fellow as you to look so ill. What's amiss?"

"Amiss?" puffed Calandrino. "Nothing, you fool. I feel fine."

"Ah, that's the spirit!" Nello rejoined. "Don't let it get the better of you." And, going on his way, he added, "Take care of yourself, my friend."

Confused, Calandrino rubbed his jaw and walked on. Soon he came upon Buffalmacco, who said in a soft voice, "Calandrino, why have you kept this to yourself? Why have you not confided in your friends? Why did you not tell us you were dying?"

"Dying?" croaked Calandrino. "Do I look as bad as all that?"

Buffalmacco said nothing. He patted Calandrino on the shoulder with great affection, and a tear was in his eye as he walked away.

Now Calandrino began to feel strange. His head swam, his stomach writhed, his face grew pale and drawn. At that moment, Bruno saw him.

"Angels defend us!" cried Bruno. "Calandrino, you poor old fellow, you look as if you were dead!"

At this, Calandrino groaned and fell swooning into Bruno's arms. "Save me, friend Bruno," he whispered in terror. "I have been stricken by the plague, I am certain! What should I do?"

"Go home," Bruno ordered. "Get in bed and have your wife wrap you in blankets. Eat nothing. Drink nothing. I will straightway bring Doctor Simone to treat you."

Calandrino went home and did as he was told. Soon, his three friends escorted Doctor Simone to his bedside.

The physician's face was grave as he felt Calandrino's pulse, listened to his heart, tested his water and bled him with leeches. Then, his face brightening, he said, "Cheer up, Calandrino. You're as sound as an ox. The only thing wrong with you is that you're pregnant."

"Pregnant!" cried Calandrino. "But is that possible?"

The doctor nodded sagely. "Rare, of course: but possible."

With a groan of despair, Calandrino turned upon his wife. "Foolish, lustful woman!" he whined. "You are to blame for this. I told you it was not right for you to lie above me!"

Blushing, his wife left the room.

"Alas, I am undone!" wailed Calandrino. "How can I bear a child? From where can it possibly emerge? It will kill me ... I will die . . ."

"Save your strength," said Doctor Simone. "You may yet be cured of this unusual affliction. I will prepare for you a distillation of many things. Several fine fat capons, a keg of vintage wine and other delicacies go into the making of it. By drinking this medicine, your pregnancy will disappear and you will be in health again."

"But how much will all this cost?" asked Calandrino.

"About ... two hundred lire. A sizeable sum. Thank Heaven your inheritance will cover it."

Reluctantly, Calandrino gave up the money and Doctor Simone went off with the three friends to buy the capons and other good things. Stopping at his laboratory, he mixed an odious concoction of vinegar and wormwood and brought it in a large bottle to Calandrino. "This medicine will cure you," said Doctor Simone. "Be sure you drink every drop of it."

That night, a fine feast was enjoyed by Doctor Simone, Nello, Bruno and Buffalmacco. They ate a variety of succulent foods and drank cup after cup of wine.

As for Calandrino, all he drank was his medicine. But it cured him forever of his snobbery.

"Lustful wife," wailed Calandrino, "you are to blame for my illness!"