Domingo Siete

(Sunday Seven)


Hace mucho tiempo habia dos jorobados. Uno era muy bueno y el otro era malo y envidioso. Como estos dos jorobados no podian trabajar en los pueblos porque todo el mundo les hacia burla, salian al monte a cortar leña. Es decir, el bueno era el que cortaba la leña, porque el malo y envidioso flojeaba siempre y le decia a su compañero:

- ¡Ay! Cómo estoy enfermo ahora, vale más que tu vayas a cortar la leña esta semana. Y el otro, como era tan bueno, iba al monte semana tras semana y hacia tambien el trabajo del malo.

Un dia que el envidioso se habia quedado en casa como de costumbre, el buen leñador habia cortado mucha leña y, como era natural, estaba cansado. Como la casa donde vivian quedaba muy lejos decidió quedarse al pie de un árbol que estaba junto a un ojito de agua. Como a la media noche oyó que alguien cantaba. Al principio creyó que alguien se habria acampado en la cercania, pero cuando ya bien despirto oyó lo que se cantaba, notó que no eran precisamente voces de personas las que se oian. Con todos sigilo se levantó y con mucho cuidado se acercó al lugar de donde provenian las voces y cual no seria su sorpresa al ver muchas hadas cantando y bailando en derredor de una hoguera.

Lunes y martes y miércoles tres.
Lunes y martes y miércoles tres...

Pero de este estribillo no salian. Lo repetian y lo repetian; parecia que era la única canción que conocian. Entonces se le ocurrió al leñador salir, y como es natural, lo vieron las hadas.

- ¿Qué quieres, hombre mortal? Le preguntaron las hadas. -¿Porqué vienes a interrumpirnos?

- Porque les puedo ayudar. Miren, óiganme y veran como su canción se oye más bonita asi.

Luego cantó:

Lunes y martes y miércoles tres,
Jueves y viernes y sábado seis.

Válgame, Dios mio, ya se volvian locas de contento las hadas. De pronto se fijaron que el pobre leñador estaba jorobado y le hicieron que se hincara. Cuando se hinco le tocaron la joroba con una varita mágica y la joroba desapareció, y el leñador quedó hecho y derecho.

En esto, empezó a temblar la tierra; a moverse las piedras; todo con gran estruendo.

- ¡Son los ogros malvados que vienen! Prontito, -le dijeron las hadas al leñador, -Súbete a ese árbol porque se te cogen te matan. Y en esto se desaparecieron las hadas. En un abrir y cerrar de ojos se subió el leñador al árbol y se escondió entre las ramas. Llegaron tres enormes diablos y acomodándose junto al árbol donde estaba el leñador, empezaron a platicar. - Bueno, amigos, ¿que maldades habéis hecho durante este último año? Asi se preguntaban uno al otro.

- Pues yo, dijo uno de ellos, - cegué a todo un pueblo, de tal manera, que no el sol pueden ver.

Todos rieron a carcajades. El segundo ogro dijo:

- Tu creerás que eso es trabajo, yo a mi reino lo he condenado a enudecer. Y tan mudos estan todos, que ni los niños pueden llorar.

Todo volvieron a reir estrepitosamente. Entonces el tercer ogro dijo:

- Pues señores, yo tampoco he estado de flojo. A todo mi reino he ensordecido a tal grado que ni a una alma en pena oyen.

Los otros, igual que este último, se retorcian de risa porque eran tan malvados que las miserias humanas las hacian sentirse felices. El pobre leñador oyendo todo este temblaba como un azogado.

- Sin embargo, dijo el primero de los ogros. - Si ustedes han hecho lo que yo, entonces todo camina bien. Esos pobres desgraciados a quienes he hecho ciegos, no saben que es muy fácil curarse. Naturalmente, no vayan a creer que yo los voy a sanar, ni mucho menos decir como hacerlo.

- Bueno, dijo otro de los ogros, - a nosotros si nos vas a decir, ¿qué no? Yo tamben tengo un remedio para curar la sordera y estoy seguro que neustro compañero tambien tiene un remedio para curar la mudez.

- Tienes razón. Dijo el ogro creador de la mudez. - Tambien yo tengo un remedio para aliviar ese mal.

- Señores, dijo el primer ogro,- para curar a los ciegos de mi pueblo, todo lo que es necesario hacer es recoger el rocio de la primera semana de abril. Luego, mojándose el dedo en ese rocio, se frotan los ojos del ciego y la ceguera desaparece.

- Deberas guardar bien el secreto, pues eres un chico ingenioso, exclamó otro.

- Atención a mi remedio. Como les dije, a mi reino lo he dejado sordo. ¿Sabéis cuál es el remedio? Es mucho más dificil de curar que la ceguera. ¿Ustedes han oido hablar del Cerro de las Campanas? Todo lo que hay que hacer es llevar al sordo a donde está ese cerro; colocarlo cerca de la loma y luego pegarle a una piedra con un martillo. El ruido que produce el choque del martillo con la piedra, quitará la sordera de los afligidos.

- Eso no es nada, dijo el tercer ogro. - Para curar a los mudos de mi tierra hay que salir al campo a recoger las flores del cenizo, que nada mas florece despues de una lluvia. Se corta la flor, se hierve, se hace un te y el que lo toma luego quedará sano de todo mal, no solo de la mudez.

Todos los ogros se rieron muchisimo, pero como ya se aproximaba el alba, decidieron volverse a sus respectivos reinos, citandise para volverse a juntar bajo el mismo árbol al siguiente año en la misma fecha.

Tan pronto como hubieron partido los ogros, el leñador se bajó del árbol, y se dijo, -ahora si que me va a ir bien, ya que las hadas me han curado mi joroba, pagaré bien con bien yendo a sanar a esos pobres maltrechos por los ogros. Pero es todavia falta algun tiempo para que llegue el mes de abril, y a curar a los sordos y a los mudos.

Caminando y caminando llegó por fin a la tierra de los mudos. Recogió las flores del cenizo, preparó el té y se lo dió a los mudos. Estos, al instante hablaron. Tan agradecidos quedaron que cargaron el burrito que llevaba el leñador con barras de oro y plata.

De la tierra de los mudos viajó a la de los sordos. Los llevó al Cerro de las Campanas y todos quedaron sanos. ¡Dios mio! Qué regocijo entre todo aquel pueblo, y estos tambien le cargaron otro burrito con barras de oro y plata. Como ya se aproximaba el mes de abril, se fué a la tierra de los ciegos. Llegó, y en prado se acampó. Llegando la primera semana de abril recogió el rocio y entrando al pueblo curó a todos los habitantes. Se difundió la alegria por doquier y el leñador tambien salió de alli colmado de bienes.

Por fin regresó a su tierra y llegando a su casa donde lo esperaba su compañero, le contó a este lo que le habia pasado. El jorobado despota no le importaba tanto el oro y la plata que habia traido el leñador, pero si le envidiabala falta de la joroba.

- Compadre, le decia al leñador, -¿por qué no me enseñas donde esta ese árbol? Dentro de poco vendran los ogros otra vez, quizá oiga yo tambien algo que me colme de bienes, pero lo que más me importa es ver si las hadas me quitan esta joroba.

El leñador, como era noble de corazón y bueno de por si, tuvo piedad del jorobado y en la mañana del aniversario de la junta de los ogros lo llevó al árol. El jorobado malvado sin darle las gracias, se trepó al árbol y se preparó a esperar, tanto a las hadas como a los ogros.

Pero antes de que llegaran las hadas, tembló la tierra y crujieron lás piedras, y se aparecieron los ogros.

- Compañeros, dijo el más grande, - hay un traidor entre nosotros. Alguien ha curado la ceguera de mi pueblo. Nosotros fuimos los únicos que oimos lo que discutimos hace un año.

- Yo no fui, dijo uno, - porque en mi pueblo tambien los mudos hablan.

- Y mis sordos oyen, dijo el otro. - Un leñador llegó a mi pueblo y a todos curó.

- ¡Ese fué el mismo que curó a mi reino! Exclamaron los otros dos ogros a un tiempo.

En esto salieron las hadas cantando y bailando, ya sin miedo a los terribles ogros.

Lunes y martes y miércoles tres;
Jueves y viernes y sábado seis.

Para esto el jorobado que habia visto salir a las hadas ya no podia dominar la impaciencia y el deseo de añadir algo al estribillo para que le quitaran la joroba. Cuando oyó a las hadas, gritó lo primero que se le ocurrió. -¡Y domingo siete! Añadio al final de la estrofa.

Petrificados como estatuas quedaron tanto los ogros como las hadas. Pero recobrándose casi al instante de su asombro, las hadas exclamaron:

- ¡Nuestra canción ha quedado arruinada! Y desaparecieron al instante.

Los ogros, tambien recobrándose, dijeron:

- ¡Ahi está el traidor! Y subiendose al árbol bajaron al pobre jorobado.

- Conque fuiste tu, araña insignificante, el que descubrió nuestros secretos. Pues toma, y le plantaron otra joroba para que hiciera juego con le que ya traia.

Long ago there were two hunchbacks. One was kind but the other was mean and spiteful. The two hunchbacks cold not work in the village because everybody made fun of them; therefore they went into the hills to cut wood. That is, the kind one cut all the wood since the mean and spiteful one was very lazy and was always telling his companion;

"Ay!, how sick I am today. It is better if you go and cut the wood this week." His partner, being kind-hearted, would go into the mountains and do all the work week after week.

One day, when the mean one had stayed at home as usual, the good woodcutter worked very hard and was very tired. Since his house was far away, he decided to camp near a small spring. About midnight, the woodcutter heard someone singing. At first he thought that somebody had camped near by but when he had listened to what was being sung, he realized that the voices he heard were not human.

Very cautiously he arose and silently walked to the place where the singing came from. Imagine his surprise when he saw a group of fairies singing and dancing around a blazing fire.

Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday three,
Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday three.

That was all the fairies sang, they repeated the same line over and over again. It seemed that it was the only song they knew. The woodcutter then decided that he would talk to them. Naturally, as soon as he heard them singing again, he went near the fire and the fairies saw him at once.

"What do you want, oh mortal?" asked the fairies. "Why do you come to bother us?"

"Because I can help you. Listen tome and you will see that your song will sound better this way." Then he sang:

Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday three,
Thursday and Friday and Saturday six.

Oh! The fairies were filled with joy. They noticed then that the good woodcutter was a hunchback. They told him to kneel down and with a magic wand touched his hump. Immediately it disappeared, leaving him strong and strong.

Suddenly the earth began to tremble; the rocks began to share, all with a terrifying sound.

"It is the ogres who come!. Quickly!" the fairies told the woodcutter. "Climb that tree; otherwise the ogres will kill you." And the fairies disappeared.

Quick as the wink of an eye, the woodcutter climbed the tree and hid in it foliage. No sooner had the woodcutter settled himself than three ugly and huge ogres sat themselves at the base of the tree and began to chat.

"Well, amigos, what evil deeds have you performed during the year?" Thus they asked each other.

"Well," said one of the ogres, "I have blinded the entire village. And so blind are they, that not even the sun can they see."

They all laughed and poked each other in the ribs.

The second ogre then said:

"Ha! you think that was work? I have condemned the people of my kingdom to silence. And so dumb are they that even the children are unable to cry."

The ogres laughed louder than before.

"Well, senores," said the third, "I haven't been idle either. I have made my people so deaf that they cannot even hear the cries of the souls in purgatory."

And the ogres laughed more loudly than ever, rolling on the ground with merriment. They were so evil that all human miseries caused them joy. The poor woodcutter, hearing them speak thus, trembled with horror.

"However," said the ogre who had spoken first, "if you have done as I have, then everything proceeds well. Those poor unfortunates whom I have blinded don't know how easily they can be cured. Nevertheless, don't think I am going to cure, much less give them the remedy."

"Good," said the second ogre. "You are going to tell us, no? I also have a remedy to cure the deafness of my people and I am sure that our friend here has also a remedy for the dumbness of his people."

"You are right," answered the third ogre, "I also have a remedy."

"Senores," said the first, "to cure the blindness of my subjects all one has to do is to collect the dew during the first week of April. Then by rubbing a finger dipped in this dew over the eyes of the blind, they will be cured."

"You must guard you secret well; it is very ingenious." exclaimed the second ogre. "But listen to my remedy. As I have told you, I have deafened my subjects. Do you know how they can be cured? It is certainly more difficulty to cure this deafness than the blindness you spoke of. You have heard of the Hill of the Bells; all one has to do is take the person who is afflicted with dearness to this Hill, place him next to the rock, and then strike this rock with a hammer. The sound resulting from the blow will cure the deaf person."

"That is nothing," said the third ogre. "To cure the dumbness of my people, one must go into the fields and pick flowers from the cenizo plant, which blooms only after a good rain. These flowers are set to boil, and a tea is made from them. The afflicted is given this tea to drink. Then not only is he cured of dumbness, but of every known ailment."

The ogres were enjoying themselves a great deal, but since dawn was approaching, they agreed to meet again at the same place a year from that date.

As son as the ogres left. the woodcutter clambered down from the tree saying to himself, "since the fairies have been kind tome, I will repay kindness with kindness. I will go and cure those poor afflicted persons the ogres talked about. However, since it is a long time until April, I will first go and cure the deaf and the dumb."

Walking, walking, the woodcutter finally reached the land of the dumb. The good man picked the cenizo flowers, brewed the tea, and gave it to the dumb. Immediately their speech was restored. So grateful were all these people that they loaded the woodcutter's little donkey with bars of gold and silver. From the land of the dumb, the woodcutter traveled to the kingdom of the deaf. He took the deaf to the Hill of the Bells and cured them. Dios mio! what joy! These people also gave the woodcutter a donkey loaded with gold and silver bars. Since April was near, the woodcutter traveled to the country of the blind. Camping on a grass-covered prairie, he waited for the first week of April When the proper time arrived, the good woodcutter collected the dew from the grass, entered the village of the blind, and cured all. As a reward, the previously blind loaded their benefactor with still more gold and silver.

At last he returned to his home, where his friend the envious hunchback, awaited him. The good woodcutter related his adventures but the evil one didn't care about the gold or the silver. He wanted to rid his back of its hump.

"Compadre," the evil one would ask his good friend, "why don't you tell me where this tree is? The ogres will be there soon; maybe I can also be rich like you. But above all, I hope the fairies will straighten my back."

The kind-hearted woodcutter took pity on his friend and agreed to do as he asked. On the morning of the day set for the meeting of the ogres, the good woodcutter took his friend to the tree. The mean hunchback, without even thanking his kind companion, climbed the tree and set himself to await the arrival of the ogres and the fairies.

Before the fairies arrived, the earth and the rocks trembled as in the previous occasion and the ogres met under the tree.

"Amigos", said the largest ogre, "there is a traitor amongst us. Someone has cured the blindness of my subjects. We were the only ones who know what was said here a year ago; it must be one of us."

"It wasn't I," said the second, "because in my kingdom the dumb can now talk."

"And my previously deaf people can now hear," called in anger the third. "A woodcutter came to my kingdom and cured everyone."

"He was the one that cured my subjects!" exclaimed the other two ogres.

The fairies appeared then, singing and dancing. Their fear of the ogres was forgotten.

Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday three
Thursday and Friday and Saturday six.

The hunchback, who had seen the fairies come out, was impatient to add to the song, hoping that his hump would be removed. When the fairies reached the word "six" the hunchback yelled the first thing that came to his mind:

"And Sunday seven!"

For an instant the ogres and the fairies stood as if carved from stone. Recovering their faculties in an instant, the fairies exclaimed, "Our song has been ruined!" Then they disappeared.

The ogres by this time had also looked around. Yelling "There is the traitor!" they reached into the tree and brought down the hunchback.

"And so it was you, insignificant spider, who revealed our secrets! Well, take this!" And the ogres decorated the back of the hunchback with another hump.

NOTES FOR DOMINGO SIETE

"Domingo Siete" is one of Mexico's best known tales. Any malapropism made by a Mexican will draw the comment, "y salio con su Domingo Siete" (he came out with his Sunday Seven), meaning that he has said or done something foolish.

J. Frank Dobie has recorded a version of "Domingo Siete' in Tongues of the Monte, pp 7-18. Dobie has interspersed the story with his own comments, but retains the flavor and the sequence fairly well. Another version closely allied to "Domingo Siete' was published in R.S. Bogg's book, Three Golden Oranges, pp49-58, under the title "Tonino and the Fairies."

In the Aarne-Thompson index (Type 503), the central incident of the story concerns fairies who remove the hump from a hunchback after he gains their confidence. He does this by any of several means, by joining in their dances, by making music for them, or by supplying the names of missing days of the week in their song; sometimes also, by submitting peacefully while the fairies cut his hair or shave him. The avaricious companion is also present in the story; however, he is given the hump that was taken from the hero.

Stith Thompson in The Folktale, p.49, states that in its present form the tale was recorded as early as the seventeenth century in the literature of both Italy and Ireland, and that earlier there had been an Arabic literary story dating from the fourteenth century in which a demon or afrit removes the hump from the hero and puts it on a second man, the villain.

Bolte-Polivka in Hausmarchen, Vol. 111, pp.324-328, discusses the different versions, stating that this type of story is very popular in Wester Europe, especially in France. Thompson (The Folktale, pg.49) also reports one lone version from a Japanese collection.

Relationship of "Domingo Siete' to tales of the sam general type.

Similarities:

1. The hero is a hunchback.

2. The hero has an avaricious companion.

3. The hero completes a rhyme for the fairies.

4. The fairies remove the hero's hump (Thompson's Motif F 344.1).

5. The companion persuades the hero to lead him to the meeting place of the fairies.

Differences:

1. The avaricious companion in "Domingo Siete' is also a hunchback.

2. Three ogres appear in the story "Domingo Siete".

3. The hero of "Domingo Siete' overhears the ogres discussing cures for certain illnesses.

a. Blindness. (Aarne Thompson Type 1135 Motif D-1821.4)

b. Deafness.

c. Dumbness.

4. The hero of "Domingo Siete' cures the afflicted people who in turn reward the hero with gold and silver.

5. The ogres in "Domingo Siete' place a second hump on the avaricious companion, believing him to be the person responsible for revealing their secrets.

Comparative Classification:

Aarne-Thompson: Type 503

R.S. Boggs: "Tonino and the Fairies." (From Three Golden Oranges, pp 49-58.)

J. Frank Dobie: Tongues of the Monte, pp 7-18 (No name given to the story.)

Narrator:
Sra. Carmen F. de Cordova
age 54
El Paso, Texas.

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