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Python 3 Web Development
Beginner's Guide

Use Python to create, theme, and deploy unique web

applications

Michel Anders

BIRMINGHAM - MUMBAI
Python 3 Web Development
Beginner's Guide

Copyright © 2011 Packt Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the
publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

Every effort has been made in the preparation of this book to ensure the accuracy of the
information presented. However, the information contained in this book is sold without
warranty, either express or implied. Neither the author, nor Packt Publishing, and its dealers
and distributors will be held liable for any damages caused or alleged to be caused directly or
indirectly by this book.

Packt Publishing has endeavored to provide trademark information about all of the
companies and products mentioned in this book by the appropriate use of capitals. However,
Packt Publishing cannot guarantee the accuracy of this information.

First published: May 2011

Production Reference: 1060511

Published by Packt Publishing Ltd.

32 Lincoln Road
Olton
Birmingham, B27 6PA, UK.

ISBN 978-1-849513-74-6

www.packtpub.com

Cover Image by Rakesh Shejwal (shejwal.rakesh@gmail.com)

 Credits

Author Project Coordinators

Michel Anders Poorvi Nair
Michelle Quadros
Reviewers
Michael Driscoll Proofreader
Róman Joost Mario Cecere
Tomi Juhola
Indexer
Andrew Nicholson
Tejal Daruwale
Herjend Teny
Graphics
Acquisition Editor Nilesh Mohite
Sarah Cullington
Production Coordinator
Development Editor Kruthika Bangera
Neha Mallik
Cover Work
Technical Editors Kruthika Bangera
Sakina Kaydawala
Gauri Iyer

Copy Editor
Leonard D'Silva
 About the Author

Michel Anders, after his chemistry and physics studies where he spent more time on
computer simulations than on real world experiments, the author found his real interests
lay with IT and Internet technology, and worked as an IT manager for several different
companies, including an Internet provider, a hospital, and a software development company.

After his initial exposure to Python as the built-in scripting language of Blender, the popular
3D modeling and rendering suite, the language became his tool of choice for many projects.

He lives happily in a small converted farm, with his partner, three cats, and twelve goats.
This tranquil environment proved to be ideally suited to writing his first book, Blender 2.49
Scripting (Packt Publishing, 978-1-849510-40-0).

He loves to help people with Blender and Python-related questions and may be contacted as
'varkenvarken' at http://www.blenderartists.org/ and maintains a blog on Python-
specific subjects at http://michelanders.blogspot.com/.

For Clementine, always.

 About the Reviewers

Michael Driscoll has been programming Python since the Spring of 2006 and has
dabbled in other languages since the late nineties. He graduated from the University with
a Bachelors of Science degree, majoring in Management Information Systems. Michael
enjoys programming for fun and profit. His hobbies include Biblical apologetics, blogging
about Python at http://www.blog.pythonlibrary.org/, and learning photography.
Michael currently works for the local government, where he does programming with Python
as much as possible. Michael was also a Technical Reviewer for Python 3: Object Oriented
Programming by Dusty Phillips and Python Graphics Cookbook by Mike Ohlson de Fine (both
by Packt Publishing).

I would like to thank my friends and family for their support and the fun
times they share with me. Most of all, I want to thank Jesus for saving me
from myself.

Róman Joost discovered open source software in 1997. He is the project manager for
user documentation for GNU Image Manipulation Program (GIMP). Róman also helped with
German internationalization of GIMP. He has been contributing to GIMP and Zope open
source projects for eight years.

Róman has a Diplom-Informatiker (FH) from the University of Applied Sciences in Koethen
(Anhalt). He has worked for Zope companies—Gocept GmbH & Co in Germany, Infrae in
The Netherlands, and is currently working for a Zope company in Brisbane, Australia. For
relaxation, he enjoys photography and digital painting with GIMP.
Tomi Juhola is a software development professional from Finland. He has a wide range of
development experience from embedded systems to modern distributed enterprise systems
in various roles such as tester, developer, consultant, and trainer.

Currently, he works in a financial company and shares this time between development lead
duties and helping other projects to adopt Scrum and Agile methodologies. He likes to spend
his free time with new interesting development languages and frameworks.

He has reviewed conference proposals, a Python development book, and has also published
his own Master's theses on Agile embedded development.

Andrew Nicholson is a computer engineer with over fourteen years of professional

experience in a broad range of computing technologies. He is currently a Technical Director
with Infinite Recursion Pty Ltd.—a bespoke software engineering company located in Sydney,
Australia. He is a passionate advocate and a participant in the free, libre, and open source
software (FLOSS) community and has actively participated since 1999 contributing code,
ideas, and energy in this engineering community. He was a Technical Reviewer for the book
Python Testing: Beginner's Guide (2010), Packt Publishing.

Nicholson has a B.Eng (Computer) [Honours 1] from Newcastle University, Australia and a
M.Eng (Wireless) with Merit from Sydney University, Australia.

Nicholson's biography can be read at http://www.infiniterecursion.com.au/

people/.
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 Table of Contents
Preface 1
Chapter 1: Choosing Your Tools 7
Identifying the components of a web application 7
Time for action – getting an overview of a web application 8
Choosing suitable tools 10
Time for action – choosing a delivery framework, also known as web server 11
Time for action – choosing a server-side scripting language 12
Time for action – choosing a database engine 14
Time for action – deciding on object relational mappers 15
Time for action – choosing a presentation framework 17
Designing for maintainability and usability 18
Testing 18
Time for action – choosing a test framework 19
Version management 19
Usability 20
Good looking – adhering to common GUI paradigms 20
Themable 21
Cross-browser compatible 21
Cross-platform compatible 22
Maintainability 22
Standards compliant 22
Security 23
Reliable 23
Robust 23
Access control and authentication 24
Confidentiality 24
Integrity 25
A final word on security 25
Help, I am confused! 25
Time for action – maintaining overview 26
Summary 28
Table of Contents

Chapter 2: Creating a Simple Spreadsheet 29

Python 3 30
Time for action – installing Python 3 CherryPy 30
Time for action – installing CherryPy 31
Installing jQuery and jQuery UI 31
Serving an application 32
Time for action – serving a dummy application 33
Time for action – serving HTML as dynamic content 34
Who serves what: an overview 36
HTML: separating form and content 37
Time for action – a unit convertor 38
HTML: form-based interaction 39
JavaScript: using jQuery UI widgets 40
Time for action – conversion using unitconverter.js 40
jQuery selectors 42
CSS: applying a jQuery UI theme to other elements 43
Time for action – converting a unit convertor into a plugin 45
JavaScript: creating a jQuery UI plugin 46
Designing a spreadsheet application 51
Time for action – serving a spreadsheet application 51
HTML: keeping it simple 52
JavaScript: creating a spreadsheet plugin 52
The missing parts 58
Summary 58
Chapter 3: Tasklist I: Persistence 59
Designing a tasklist application 59
Time for action – creating a logon screen 62
Serving a logon screen 69
Setting up a session 70
Expiring a session 71
Designing a task list 72
Time for action – running tasklist.py 72
Python: the task module 75
Time for action – implementing the task module 76
Adding new tasks 80
Deleting a task 81
JavaScript: tasklist.js 83
Time for action – styling the buttons 83
JavaScript: tooltip.js 85
Time for action – implementing inline labels 86

[ ii ]
 Table of Contents

CSS: tasklist.css 87
Summary 90
Chapter 4: Tasklist II: Databases and AJAX 91
The advantages of a database compared to a filesystem 92
Choosing a database engine 92
Database-driven authentication 93
Time for action – authentication using a database 94
Tasklist II – storing tasks in a database 99
Improving interactivity with AJAX 99
Time for action – getting the time with AJAX 100
Redesigning the Tasklist application 102
Database design 103
Time for action – creating the task database 103
Time for action – retrieving information with select statements 105
TaskDB – interfacing with the database 106
Time for action – connecting to the database 106
Time for action – storing and retrieving information 107
Time for action – updating and deleting information 109
Testing 111
Time for action – testing factorial.py 112
Now what have we gained? 113
Time for action – writing unit tests for tasklistdb.py 114
Designing for AJAX 116
Click handlers 120
The application 121
Time for action – putting it all together 123
Have a go hero – refreshing the itemlist on a regular basis 125
Summary 126
Chapter 5: Entities and Relations 127
Designing a book database 127
The Entity class 128
Time for action – using the Entity class 129
Time for action – creating instances 132
The Relation class 138
Time for action – using the Relation class 138
Relation instances 141
Time for action – defining the Books database 144
The delivery layer 150
Time for action – designing the delivery layer 151
Time for action – adding a new book 162

[ iii ]
Table of Contents

Auto completion 165

Time for action – using input fields with auto completion 166
The presentation layer 168
Time for action – using an enhanced presentation layer 168
Summary 170
Chapter 6: Building a Wiki 171
The data layer 172
Time for action – designing the wiki data model 172
The delivery layer 175
Time for action – implementing the opening screen 176
The structural components 177
The application methods 179
Time for action – implementing a wiki topic screen 180
Time for action – editing wiki topics 182
Additional functionality 185
Time for action – selecting an image 185
Time for action – implementing a tag cloud 190
Time for action – searching for words 192
The importance of input validation 195
Time for action – scrubbing your content 196
Time for action – rendering content 200
Summary 201
Chapter 7: Refactoring Code for Reuse 203
Time for action – taking a critical look 203
Refactoring 205
Time for action – defining new entities: how it should look 205
Metaclasses 206
Time for action – using metaclasses 207
MetaEntity and AbstractEntity classes 208
Time for action – implementing the MetaEntity and AbstractEntity classes 209
Relations 217
Time for action – defining new relations: how it should look 217
Implementing the MetaRelation and AbstractRelation classes 219
Adding new methods to existing classes 222
Browsing lists of entities 224
Time for action – using a table-based Entity browser 224
Time for action – examining the HTML markup 229
Caching 232
The books application revisited 236
Time for action – creating a books application, take two 236
Summary 242
[ iv ]
 Table of Contents

Chapter 8: Managing Customer Relations 243

A critical review 243
Designing a Customer Relationship Management application 244
Time for action – implementing a basic CRM 244
Adding and editing values 248
Time for action – adding an instance 249
Time for action – editing an instance 251
Adding relations 257
Picklists 259
Time for action – implementing picklists 259
Summary 262
Chapter 9: Creating Full-Fledged Webapps: Implementing Instances 263
Even more relations 263
Time for action – showing one-to-many relationships 264
Time for action – adapting MetaRelation 266
Time for action – enhancing Display 270
Time for action – enhancing Browse 271
Access control 274
Time for action – implementing access control 275
Role-based access control 278
Time for action – implementing role-based access control 279
Summary 283
Chapter 10: Customizing the CRM Application 285
Time for action – sorting 285
Time for action – filtering 290
Customization 292
Time for action – customizing entity displays 292
Time for action – customizing entity lists 298
Time for action – adding a delete button 301
Summary 302
Appendix A: References to Resources 303
Good old offline reference books 303
Additional websites, wikis, and blogs 304
Appendix B: Pop Quiz Answers 307
Chapter 2, Creating a Simple Spreadsheet 307
Chapter 3, Tasklist I: Persistence 308
Chapter 4, Tasklist II: Databases and AJAX 309
Chapter 5, Entities and Relations 310
Chapter 6, Building a Wiki 310
Index 311
[v]
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content Scribd suggests to you:
aware of, for the peasants for her services and prayers, regarding
her as a saint who could work miracles, because she indeed effected
many strange things which seemed to them to be Divine, brought
her many gifts, including money, all of which she declared would be
devoted in future to the Madonna, regarding all which she had a
great work in view.
At last her reputation for sanctity spread over all the country, and it
was greatly increased when it was reported that so poor a girl had
refused to marry a rich young gentleman, so that she was visited by
the nobility, among whom she acquired great influence. And as she
declared that it was her ambition to build a small church, and with it
a home for herself, they, hoping that this would bring many pilgrims
and greatly benefit the town, at last offered her thirty thousand
crowns wherewith to carry out her pious purposes, which she with
thanks and tears gratefully accepted.
The first thing which she did, however, was to build for herself a
house, for which there was (secretly) constructed a long
subterranean passage which led out to the river. Then she left her
parents, saying that for the present she must lead a life of devotion
in absolute seclusion. Then it was observed that from time to time
young gentlemen were missing, and more than once their bodies
were found floating in the river below the house of La Beghina, yet
so great was her reputation for sanctity that no one connected their
loss with her name.
So years passed by. But there was one who put no faith in her piety,
and this was the signore whom she had refused, and with whom
love for her had been succeeded by a bitter love of revenge, and by
constant observation and inquiry he found out several things which
greatly confirmed his suspicions. The first of these was the
discovery of the bodies in the river; and being resolved to find out all
the secrets of her house, he visited the mason who had built it,
saying that he wished to erect a mansion for himself, and as he
greatly admired that of La Beghina, would like to have one exactly
like it. To which the old man replied that he was willing, but as
every person who built a house kept certain details a secret to
secure the safety of persons or property in certain emergencies, he
must be excused if he withheld certain particulars. But the young
signore replied that he had set his heart on having just such a house
in every respect; that he himself wished to conceal all secrets, and,
finally, that he would pay a round sum extra to have his desire
fulfilled. This was an argument which the mason could not resist,
and so explained to his patron every detail of the building, which
made more than one mystery clear to him. And having learned the
secret of the underground passage which led to the river, he began
to watch it by night with great care; and found that the exit by the
river was by a stone door, which was so artfully concealed in a rock
by bushes that it was hardly perceptible.
One night, when it was very dark, the Signore Primo, for such was
his name, being on the watch, heard a noise and saw the door
open. Then there appeared the Beghina, bearing or dragging a long
package or bundle—un involto—which she let fall into the flood.
And at this sight the signore could not restrain a cry of rage,
understanding it all, whereat La Beghina fled in terror into the
passage, leaving the door unfastened behind her. But the young
man, unheeding her, cast himself headlong into the river after the
bundle, which he succeeded in bringing to land, and on opening it
found the body of a young gentleman of his acquaintance, who was
not, however, quite dead, as he had been merely heavily drugged,
and who with care was restored to life. And truly he had a strange
tale to tell, how he had been inveigled mysteriously and blindfolded,
and introduced to some unknown house where there was a
handsome woman, who, after he had made love with her, drugged
and robbed him, after which he became unconscious.
The Signore Primo conveyed his friend to his own home, and after
caring for his comfort and earnestly recommending him to keep the
whole matter a secret, went back to the stone door, and finding it
open, and having already learned how the house was built, he
entered, and concealed himself where he could watch the mistress.
Early in the morning there came an elderly lady, who with many
tears and in great emotion told the Beghina that she had a son gone
to the war, and was in great fear lest he should be slain, and that
she had prayed to the Virgin that he might return safe and sound;
and that if the Beghina by her piety would bring this to pass, she
would at once give her fifty gold crowns, and a very much larger
sum in case her son should come to her again soon and well. To
which La Beghina replied that she could go home with a happy
heart, for in a few days she should have her son with her. So the
lady departed.
Then the Beghina went into a secret room [but the Signore Primo
continued to follow and observe her] and taking a pack of cards and
a chain, she threw them against the wall and beat on the ground,
saying:

“Diavoli tutti che siete nell’ inferno!

Scatenatevi, e damme portatevi,
Un comando
Vi voglio dare
Fino alla cittá
Dov’é la guerra dovete andare,
E salvare
Il figlio della signora;
Che pochanzi damme e venuta
E portatelo subito a casa sua,
In carne anima ed ossa,
Se questa grazia mi farete
L’anima di quel giovane l’avrete!”
“All ye devils who are in hell,
Loosen your chains, and come at once to me!
I give you a command—
Go to the city where the war is waged,
And save the life of the son
Of the lady who came to me of late,
 And bear him quickly to her in her home!
Bear him in flesh, soul and bones!
If ye do me this favour,
Ye shall have the soul of that youth!”

And when this was sung many devils appeared and saluted her as a
queen.
The Signore Primo was indeed amazed and terrified, for now he
realized that the Beghina was worse than he had supposed, or a
witch of the most malignant kind. But he left the place, and going
to the lady, told her all he had witnessed. Then she in great terror
fainted, and when restored to life declared that, if anyone could save
the soul of her son, he should have all her fortune.
Then the Signore Primo told her that if anyone could defeat the evil
witch it was a great magician who by lucky chance was in Arezzo,
and that she should seek him forthwith. This great magician was no
other than Virgil. And as soon as the lady appeared, Virgil said:
“I know why thou art come.”
Then he led her to the form of an angel clad in a rose-coloured garb,
and, kneeling before it, said:

“O tu angelo del paradiso!

Ma benche puro e innocente sei stato
In questa terra confinata
Per salvare tua madre de suoi peccati,
Ma anche nel altro mondo
Ne fa sempre di peggio,
E per questo sarai liberato te
E confinata nel tuo posto,
La compagna e complice
Di tua madre la Beghina
La Beghina di Arezzo.
Vai tu angelo beato!
 Da l’angelo custode!
E dilli che invochi
Lo spirito che di la ha piu comando,
E potenza di volere salvare
L’anima di quel giovane,
Che la Beghina le ha venduta
E cosi tu tu sarai in pace!”
“Oh, thou angel of Paradise!
Yet who, though pure and ever innocent,
Hast been enchanted on this earth
(Confined in the form which thou wearest),
To save thy mother for her sins;
Yet even in another world
She will ever be worse.
Therefore thou shalt now be freed,
And thy mother and her accomplice
Be enchanted in thy place.
The Beghina of Arezzo,
Go, thou blessed angel,
To the angel who guards thee!
Bid him invoke the spirit who has most power
To save the soul of that youth
Whom the Beghina has sold;
Thus shalt thou be in peace.”

At that instant there was heard a clap of thunder, the sound of a

roaring storm, and there fell down before them two human beings
like two corpses, yet not dead, and these were La Beghina and her
companion witch.
Then there entered a grand sun-ray, which flashed in light upon the
angel whom Virgil had summoned. And it said:
“The youth is saved, and whoever doeth good shall find good even
in another world. Farewell; I too am saved!”
Then the Beghina and her companion began to spit fire and flame,
and they were condemned to wander for ever, without resting, from
one town to another, ever possessed with a mad desire to do evil,
but without the ability, for Virgil had taken the power from them.

This story seemed to me in the original, after more than one

reading, so confused and high-flown, that I was on the point of
rejecting it, when a friend who had also perused it persuaded me
that, under all its dialectic mis-spellings, barbarous divisions of
words, and manifest omissions (as, for instance, what became of the
Sieur Buridan of the Italian Tour de Nesle, who was so nearly
drowned), there was a legend which was manifestly the mangled
version of a far better original. Therefore I have translated it very
faithfully, and would specify that there was from me no suggestion
or hint of any kind, but that it is entirely of the people.
Firstly, it may be observed that the long-continued, deliberately-
contrived hypocrisy of the Beghina, as well as the Red Indian-like
vindictiveness of the hero, is perfectly Italian or natural. The
construction of secret passages and hiding-places in buildings is
almost common even to-day. The idea of a holy spirit who
undergoes a penance, confinata, or enchanted and imprisoned in a
statue to redeem her mother, is also finely conceived, as is the final
statement that the Beghina and her mysterious accomplice, who is
so abruptly introduced, are condemned to wander for ever,
tormented with a desire to do evil which they are unable to satisfy.
The Beghina is an incarnation of hypocrisy, deceit, lust and
treachery. The four symbols for these were the serpent, wren,
chameleon, and goose—the latter because a certain Athenian named
Lampon was wont to swear “by the goose!” and then break his
oath. Possibly the origin of the saying “He is sound upon the goose”
is derived from this.
But I sometimes think that to decide between tradition or borrowing
and independent creation is beyond the folklore of the present day.
 THE SPIRIT OF THE SNOW OF
COLLE ALTO. [134]

“And hence, O virgin mother mild,

Though plenteous flowers around thee blow,
Not only from the dreary strife
Of winter, but the storms of life,
Thee have thy votaries aptly styled
Our Lady of the Snow.”
Wordsworth: Tour on the Continent.

Once in the olden time, in Colle Alto, the snow fell in one night many
yards in depth, and the people were astonished and frightened when
they awoke in the morning at beholding it spreading far and wide.
Many tried to shovel it away, but were discouraged, because, as they
removed it, as much came in its place, so that at last they all
remained at home, for no one could pass through the snow, and
they were afraid of being buried in it.
But the poor, who had but scant provision in their homes, suffered
from hunger. And among these was a good man to whom his five
children pitifully cried:
“Babbo-il pane!”—Papa, give us bread!
And he replied:
“My children weep, and I must risk my life to save them.” And
looking out, he cried unthinkingly:
 “And yet the snow is very beautiful!
O Spirit of the Snow—no mortal knows
How beautiful thou art. Be kind to us!”

As he said this there appeared before the window, and then among
them, a lady of marvellous beauty and dazzling brightness, all clad in
white, who said:
“What wilt thou have, since thou hast invoked me?”
“Lady,” replied the astonished peasant, “I know not who thou art,
nor did I call thee!”
“Yes; in thy speech thou didst pronounce my name in invocation,
and to those who do that, and deserve it, I give my aid. Follow me!”
The poor man was surprised and bewildered, but he followed, while
trembling, the lady.
And she spoke in a voice which was heard in every house far and
near in Colle Alto:
“Let him who will come forth without fear, for this good man hath
opened unto you the way. But it is only the poor who can do this,
because, while they have suffered and starved in their homes, not
one of the rich who dwell here have made any effort to relieve the
suffering, therefore none of them shall come forth till the snow is
gone.”
Then all the poor folk found that they could walk upon the snow, [135]
which was a pleasure, but the gentlefolk could not stir a step out of
doors till it melted. And it vexed them sorely to stand at their
windows and see women and children running merrily over the
snow, so that some of them cursed their wealth, and wished that
they were of the poor and free.
For fifteen days not a flake of snow disappeared, and then all at
once it went away, and the poor, on opening their windows in the
morning, found the sun shining, and a warm breeze blowing, which
was scented as with roses, and the streets and roofs all as clean as
if new. Then all the poor gathered every man a stone, and meeting
in one place, they there built a little church (chiesina), and called it
the Chapel of the Goddess of the Snow, and adored her as if she
had been the Madonna or a saint.
Then for some time, as usually happens, there was great enthusiasm
—vie un gran fanatismo—and then again all was gradually
forgotten. So with the Goddess of the Snow: as years went by
people talked about her less and less, and she was even ridiculed by
those who were of evil hearts and souls, such as abuse and ill-treat
their benefactors—as was shown by a certain waggoner, who found
himself one day many miles afar from any house, when snow began
to fall. And with it he began to curse, so as to shock even a sinner;
whereupon it drifted round him so deeply that he with his waggon
could get no further. And so he kept on blaspheming. His poor
starved horses looked at him with meaning, as if calling his
attention, and then cast their glances to the wall or a shrine,
whereon was depicted an image of the Goddess of the Snow, as if
begging him to notice or to appeal to it. And the wretch beholding
it, swore worse than ever, saying that she was an accursed (witch).
He had not time to pronounce the word ere he sank down (into the
snow), so that only his head remained uncovered. And his horses
also were in the same place, but a warm wind began to blow. And
so the man remained fast, freezing and starving, for three days, but
it did not make him repent, and he swore more than ever.
Then, on the third day, Virgil, the great magician, passed by, and
was amazed at seeing the horses quietly feeding on grass in the
warm sunshine, while a pleasant breeze was blowing, and close by
them a man buried to his neck in the snow. And being questioned,
the waggoner replied that he was thus buried for blaspheming the
Goddess of the Snow.
Virgil asked him if he repented it.
“I will repent,” replied the waggoner, “when I see it proved by a
miracle—but in miracles I put no faith.”
“Well,” said Virgil, “pray to the goddess to pardon you. Pray with me
thus:

“‘Dea della neve che sei candida,

E pura la sera a lume di Luna,
Un bel lenzuola candida sembra
Distesa sulla terra e sui tetti:
Col sol sei splendida e rilucente:
E vero ti sprezzai, ma non fu io
Fu il diavolo che mia ha tentato.
E spero da oggi non mi tentera più,
Perche amo essere in grazia tua e come,
Stella tu sei bella, sei bianca,
Sei candida e pura e sei l’unica
Che fra le Dee non faccia altro
Che bene, e mai male, bella dea!
O dea della Neve tu che sei
L’unico mio pensiero, unica speme,
Unica mia speranza—da ora avanti,
Tutti e tutti miei pensieri
Saranna a te rivolti—neppur da casa
Mi partero prima di fare a te
Una preghiera che possa spiegar
Il mio pensier al dar farsi
Partir o restar a te domandero,
A te domandero che devo far.
Tutto questo a te rivago
E sempre rivolgero se tu mi perdonerai
E questa grazia mi farai
Che son pentito assai
Di farmi sortir di qui
Che tanto sofro—farmi sortir—
Sano e salvo che io posso tornar
In braccio alla mia famiglia!
Che da tre sere mi chiamami desidera!’”
“O Goddess of the Snow, who art so white
And pure that in the evening, in the light
Of the full moon, thou seem’st to be
A fair bright sheet spread over earth and roofs
(That all may sleep beneath it and in peace),
But who art splendid with a ruddy glow
In the using sunlight—it is very true
That I did scorn thee, yet it was not I.
For ’twas the devil in truth who tempted me,
And who, I hope, will never tempt me more,
Because I fain would be in thy good grace!
O Star, thou art most beautiful and white,
Candid and pure, because thou truly art
Among the goddesses the only one
Who only doest good, and by no chance
Art sullied with aught evil—O most fair!
O Goddess of the Snow, who art indeed
My only thought, my only hope in life,
My only trust from now till ever on!
My all and every thought shall turn to thee
Nor will I ever from my house depart
Till I have offered thee a fervent prayer,
In which I’ll lay before thee all my soul,
And ask of thee what ’tis that I must do,
And if I must remain or mend my way!
All this do I repeat to thee again,
And ever will repeat if thou wilt but
Pardon my sin and grant to me the grace,
Having repented from my very heart,
To draw me from this place of suffering,
That safe and sound I may return again
Unto the embraces of my family,
Who for three nights have called to me in vain!”
He had hardly ended this invocation before a voice replied:

“Alzati e cammina e porta con te

Anche i tuoi animali ma non bestemmiare
Mai più, perche questaltra voltra
Sprafonderesti nell’ abisso dove
Gnenti (niente) più bastarrebbe per levarti
Dall’ inferno.” . . .
“Rise and depart, and take away with thee
Thy beasts in peace, but never more blaspheme,
Because another time thou’lt sink so deep
To the abyss that nothing will avail
To draw thee out, for thou wilt fall to hell!”

Then the waggoner took his horses and rode home at double-quick
speed. He related to all what had happened, and the chapel was
again restored with the image of the goddess. But even among the
experienced (conoscenti) none could tell him [for a long time] who
was the one who had taught him what to do. But it was at last
made known to them that it was the great magician and the great
poet Virgil, because the Goddess of the Snow and Virgil are good
spirits. [138]
So this waggoner, from being evil became so good that one could
not find his equal.

Our Lady of the Snow, or Maria vom Schnee, is one of the more
familiar avatars of the Madonna all over Middle and Northern Italy
and Germany, including Austria and Switzerland. One of the
commonest halfpenny or soldo pamphlets sold at corners in Florence
is devoted to her. A very famous Madonna of the Snow is that of
Laveno, to whom there is a special festival. Wordsworth has
devoted a poem to her.
In the legend which I have given the general resemblance of the
whole to the Madonna tales, as in the building a chapel, the threat
of hell, and the punishment for profanity, suggest that it is borrowed
from a Catholic source. This I doubt, for several reasons. It is of
the witch witchy, and heathen, as shown by calling the lady a
goddess, and especially by the long scongiurazione or evocations in
which the sorcerer takes such delight that for him they form the
solid portion of the whole, possibly because they are, if not actually
prohibited, at least secret things, cryptic or of esoteric lore. Now, be
it noted that wherever, as regards other legends, as in that of the
Madonna del Fuoco, given in my “Etrusco-Roman Legends,” the
witch claims that her tradition has been borrowed by the priests, she
is probably in the right. But what gives colour to the opinion that
this Madonna is of heathen origin is the fact that in the Old German
mythology, as Friedrich declares, there is a deity known as Lady
Holde, Holle, or Hilda (who may be again found in the Christian
Maria), who is a kind and friendly being. She was the Goddess of
the Snow, hence it is commonly said when it snows that Lady Holde
is making her bed and shaking out the feathers. As there is no
German supernatural character, especially in the fairy mythology,
which does not exist in Northern Italy, it would be very remarkable
indeed if such a widely known and popular spirit as the Lady of the
Snow had not been known there long before the Christian
Madonna. I would add that this is purely and literally a legend of
the people, not asked for by me, and not the result of any inquiry or
suggestion.
The Madonna della Neve is especially honoured at Laveno, where
there is an annual procession in her honour. I am indebted to the
kindness of the Rev. Arthur Mangles, who knew that I was interested
in the subject, for the following, translated by him from some small
local book there published:
 THE LEGEND OF LA MADONNA
DELLA NEVE.

In the fourth century there lived in Rome two devout people,

husband and wife, who, having no children, prayed to the Virgin that
she would indicate to them the best way in which to leave their
money.
On the night of the fifth of August, A.D. 352, the Virgin appeared to
them and told them to build a church upon the summit of the
Esquiline Hill, in Rome, exactly upon the area then covered with
snow.
The Pope had the same vision of the Virgin, with the same
communication as that of the husband and wife. Therefore he sent
to the place indicated a messenger, accompanied by many priests,
who found the snow.
The husband and wife forthwith built a handsome church upon the
spot.
The church, which is now on the same hill, and on the foundation of
the early edifice, is that of Santa Maria Maggiore.

Snow in August is rather a thin miracle whereon to found a legend,

or a church, but it may pass. The one which I have translated
seems to me to have a greater air of antiquity, with its retribution
and beautiful Latin-like invocation to the Spirit of the Snow.
 THE MAGICIAN VIRGIL; A LEGEND
FROM THE SABINE.

The following tale was obtained by Miss Roma Lister from the vicinity
of Rome, and from an old woman who is learned in sorcery and
incantations. It begins with the note that, on February 8, 1897, it
was taken down as given, literally word for word, and I translate it
accordingly verbatim.

There were a husband, a wizard, and his wife (who was a witch),
who had a beautiful daughter, and a house with a fine garden which
was full of broccoli—oh, the finest broccoli in the world!
And opposite to this, or overlooking the garden, dwelt two women,
and one of these was incinta, or with child, and she said to the other
woman:
“Comare, [140] how I would like to have two broccoli from the
magician’s garden. They’re so nice!”
“Yes, comare, but how to get them? It would be dangerous!”
“La cosa si farà—it can be done, at midnight when the sorcerer is
asleep, by stealing a little.”
And so they did, for at midnight both went with a sack, climbed over
the iron gate, and, having filled their bag, went away. [141a]
In the morning the magician Virgilio went to his garden and found
that many broccoli were gone. In a rage he ran to his wife, and
said: “What’s to be done?”
She replied: “This night we’ll set the cat on guard upon the gate.”
Which was done. That evening, fra il lusco e il brusco, [141b]
the one
said:
“Ah, gossip, this night it can’t be done.”
“And why not, my dear?”
“Why! Because they’ve set a guard.”
“Guard! An old cat, you mean. Are you afraid of her?”
“Yes, because she mews when she sees something.”
“I say, I’ll tell you what to do. Take a bit of meat, and when she
opens her mouth to mew, pitch it in. That’ll keep her jaws quiet
while we pick the broccoli.”
And so it was done, and they got away with another bagful of
broccoli.
In the morning the mago Virgil found that he had been robbed
again. He complained again to his wife, who said:
“Well, to-night we will put the dog on.”
Said and done. But the dame at the window was on the watch. And
seeing all, she said:
“No broccoli to-night, gossip. This time they’ve put the dog to look
out.”
“Oh, bother the dog! When he opens his jaws to bark, I’ll pitch in a
good bit of hard cheese. That’ll keep him quiet.”
Said and done again. The next morning the magician found a still
greater disappearance of broccoli from his garden.
“The thing is becoming serious,” he said. “To-night I will watch
myself.”
With that he went to his gate and remained there, looking closely at
all those who passed by. So he said to the first:
“What is your trade?”
“I’m a carpenter.”
“Pass on,” replied the magician. “You’re not the man I want.”
There came another.
“What’s your calling?”
“I’m a tailor.”
“Pass on—non fate per me” (you won’t do).
There came a baker. He was not wanted. But the next was a digger
of ditches and of graves—a fossaruolo—and the wizard cried:
“Bravo! You’re my man! Come with me; I want you to dig a pit in
my garden.”
So the poor man went, for he was as much frightened at the terrible
face and stature of the wizard as he was in hope of being paid. And
being directed, he dug a hole nearly as deep as the magician was
tall.
“Now,” said the master, “get some light sticks and cover over the pit
while I stand in it, and then strew some twigs and leaves over it,
with a few leaves to hide the top of my head.”
It was done, and there he stood covered. The ditcher, or sexton,
hurried away, glad that he had dug this strange grave for another,
and not for himself.
Evening came, and the gossip looked out.
“Good! There is not even a dog on guard. Come, let us hurry! This
time we will take all that remains of the broccoli.”
Said and done. And when they had gathered the last plant, the
gossip cried:
“See what beautiful mushrooms! Let us pick them.”
She had seen the two ears of the sorcerer, which peeped out
uncovered. So she took hold of one and pulled.
“It will not come out!” she cried. “Do thou pull at one, while I draw
at this.”
Each pulled, when the magician raised his awful face and glared at
them. E sorte fuori la terribile testa del mago!
“Now you shall die for robbing me!” he exclaimed.
They were in a fine fright. At last Virgil said:
“I will spare thy life, if thou wilt give me all thou bearest—all within
thee.”
She consented, and they departed. After a time she became a
mother, and the magician came and demanded the child. And as
she had promised it, she consented to give it to him, but begged
that it might be left to her for a time.
“I will give it to thee for seven years,” he replied. Saying this, he left
her in peace for a long time. So the child, which was a boy, was
born, and as he grew older was sent every day to school.
One morning the magician met him, and said: “Tell thy mother to
remember her promise.” Then he gave the child some sweets, and
left him. When at home the boy said:
“Mamma, a gentleman met me to-day at the door of the school, and
said to me that I should tell you to remember your promise. Then
he gave me some comfits.”
The poor mother was in a great fright.
“Tell him, when you next meet him,” she answered, “that you forgot
to give his message to me.”
The next day the boy met the magician, and said to him that he had
forgotten all about it, and told his mother nothing.
“Very well, tell her this evening, and be sure to remember.”
The mother heard this, and bade him tell the sorcerer the same
thing again.
When he met the magician Virgil again and told the same story, the
latter smiled, and said:
“It seems that thou hast a bad memory. This time I will give thee
something by which to remember me. Give me thy hand.”
The boy gave his hand; the magician bit into one finger, and as the
child screamed, he said: “This time thou wilt remember.” The boy
ran yelling home.
“See what has happened to me, brutta mammacia—you naughty
mamma—because I did what you bade, and told the gentleman that
I forgot.”
The poor woman, hearing herself called brutta mammacia, [143] was
overcome with grief and shame, and said, “Vai bene—I will tell him
myself.” So the next day she took the child and gave him to the
magician, who led him to his home.
But when his wife, the witch, beheld the boy, she cried:
“Kill that child at once, for I read it in his face that he will be the ruin
of our daughter Marietta!”
But the magician declared that nothing would induce him to harm
the boy, so the little fellow remained, and was treated by the master
like a son. In due time he became a tall and handsome young man,
and he was called Antonuccio. But the witch always said:
“We should kill and eat him, for he will be the ruin of our Marietta.”
At last the magician, weary of her complaints, said:
“Bene! I will set him a task, and if he cannot accomplish it, that
same night shall he be slain.”
Now, Antonuccio, as he slept in the next room, had overheard all
this.
The next morning the magician took the youth to a stable which was
very large and horribly filthy, such as no one had ever seen, and
said:
“Now, Antonuccio, you must clean this stable out and out—bene e
bene—repave it on the ground, and whitewash all above it; and
moreover, when I speak, an echo shall answer me.” [144]
The poor youth went to work, but soon found that he could do next
to nothing. So he sat down in despair.
At noon came Marietta, to bring him his lunch, and found him in
tears.
“What’s the matter, Antonuccio?”
“If you knew that I am to be killed this evening—”
“What for?”
“Your father has said that unless I clean out the stable, and pave
and whitewash it to the echo—”
“Is that all? Sta allegro—be of good cheer—I’ll attend to that.”
Marietta went home, and stealing in on tip-toe while the sorcerer
slept, softly carried away his magic wand, and with a few words
cleaned out the stable to the echo, and Antonuccio was delighted.
In the evening the magician came, and finding the stable clean as a
new pin, was much pleased, and kissed him and took him home.
The witch-wife was furious at learning that the stable had been
cleaned, and declared that Marietta had done it, and ended by
screaming for his life. At last the wizard said:
“To-morrow I will set him another task, and should he fail in that, he
shall surely die.”
The next morning he led the youth into a dense forest of mighty
trees, and said:
“Thou seest this wood? In one day it must be all cut down and
cleared away to a clean field, in which must be growing all kinds of
plants which are to be found in the world.”
And Antonuccio began to hew with an axe, and worked well, but
soon gave up the task in despair.
At noon came Marietta with her basket.
“What, crying again! What is the trouble to-day?”
“Only to clear away all this forest, make a clean field, and plant it
with all the herbs in the world.”
“Oh, well, eat your lunch, and I will see about it. It is lucky that it is
not something difficult!”
She ran home, got a magic wand, and went to work. Down the
trees came crashing—away they flew! ’Twas a fine sight, upon my
word! And then up sprouted all kinds of herbs and flowers, till there
was the finest garden in the world.
In the evening came the magician, and was well pleased at finding
how well Antonuccio had done the work. But when his wife heard
all, she raged more than ever, declaring that it had all been done by
Marietta, who was destined to be ruined by the boy.
“Well, well!” exclaimed the wizard. “If you will give me no peace, I
must put an end to this trouble. I will give the boy nothing to do to-
morrow—he may remain idle—and in the evening I will chop off his
head with this axe.”
Antonuccio heard this speech as he had done the others, and this
time was in despair. In the morning Marietta found him weeping.
“What is the matter, Antonuccio?”
“I am to do no work to-day, but this evening I am to have my head
chopped off.”
“Is that all? Be of good cheer—sta allegro—I will see what can be
done.”
She put the pot on the fire to boil, and began to make the
macaroni. When she had cooked a great deal, they fed all the
furniture, pots and pans, chairs and tables, to please them, and
induce them to be silent—all except the hearth-brush, whom by
oversight they forgot.
“And now,” said Marietta, “we must be off and away; it is time for us
to go!”
So away they ran. After a while the wizard and his wife returned
and knocked at the door. No answer. They rapped and called, but
got no reply. At last the hearth-brush cried:
“Who’s there?”
“Marietta, open the door—it is I.”
“I’m not Marietta. She has run away with Antonuccio. First they fed
everybody with ever so much macaroni, but gave me none.”
Then the witch cried to the wizard:
“Hurry—hasten—catch them if you can!”
The good man did as he was bid, and began to travel—travel far and
fast.
All at once, while the lovers were on their way, Antonuccio turned
his head and saw afar their pursuer on a mountain-road, and cried:
“Marietta, I see your father coming.”
“Then, my dear, I will become a fair church and thou shalt be the
fine sexton (sacristano). And he will ask thee if thou hast seen a girl
and youth pass, and thou shalt reply that he must first repeat the
Paternoster and not the Ave Maria. And if he asks again, tell him to
say the Ave Maria and not the Paternoster. And then, out of
patience, he will depart.”
So it came to pass, and the wizard was deceived. When he had
returned, his wife asked him what he had seen.
“Nothing but a church and a sacristan.”
“Stupid that you are! The church was Marietta—fly, fly and catch
them!”
So he set forth again, and again he was seen from afar by
Antonuccio.
“Marietta, I see your father coming.”
“Good. Now I will become a beautiful garden, and thou the
gardener. And when my father comes and asks if thou hast seen a
couple pass, reply that thou weedest lettuces, not broccoli. And
when he asks again, answer that thou weedest broccoli, not
lettuces.”
So it all came to pass, and the wizard, out of patience, returned
home.
“Well, and what did you see?” inquired his wife.
“Only a garden and a gardener.”
“Ahi—stupido! Those were the two. Start! This time I will go with
you!”
After a while Antonuccio saw the two following, and gaining on them
rapidly.
“Marietta, here come your father and mother. Now we are in a nice
mess.” [147]
“Don’t be afraid. Now I will become a fountain fair and broad, like a
small lake, and thou a pretty pigeon, to whom they will call; but for
mercy’s sake don’t let yourself be taken, for then all will be over with
us.”
The wizard and his wife came to the fountain and saw the dove, and
tried to inveigle and catch it with grain. But it would not be caught,
neither could the witch quench her thirst with the water. So, finding
that both were beyond her power, she cried in a rage:

“When Antonuccio kisses his mother,

He’ll forget Marietta and every other.”

So, when the parents were gone, the pair set forth again, till they
came to a place not far from where the mother of Antonuccio lived.
“I will go and see my mother,” he said.
“Do not go, for she will kiss thee, and thou wilt forget me,” replied
Marietta.
“But I will take good care that she does not kiss me,” answered
Antonuccio. “Only wait a day.”
He went and saw his mother, and both were in great joy at meeting
again, but he implored her not to kiss him. And being weary, he
went to sleep, and his mother, unheeding his request, kissed him
while he slept. And when he awoke, Marietta was completely
forgotten.
So the curse of the witch came to pass. And he lived with his
mother, and in time fell in love with another girl. Then they
appointed a day for their wedding.
Meanwhile, Marietta lived where she had been left, and made a fairy
friend who knew all that was going on far and near. One day she
told Marietta that Antonuccio was to be married.
Marietta begged her to go and steal some dough (from the house of
the bride). The friend did so, and Marietta made of the dough two
cakes in the form of puppets, or children, and one she called
Antonuccio and the other Marietta.
Then, on the day of the feast, the first day of the wedding, she
begged her friend to go and put the two puppets on the bridal table.
She did so, and when all were assembled, the puppet Marietta
began to speak:

“Dost thou remember, Antonuccio,

How, when my father brought thee to his house,
My mother wished to take away thy life?
And how he bade thee sweep the stable clean?”

And the other replied:

“Passing away, passing away,

[148]
Well do I remember the day.”

Then Marietta sang:

“Dost thou remember, Antonuccio,

How ’twas I aided thee to clear the field?”

He replied:

“Passing away, passing away,

Well do I remember the day.”
She sang again:

“Dost thou remember how thou hadst no work

Upon the day when they would murder thee,
And how we fled together to escape?”

He replied:

“Passing away, passing away,

Well do I remember the day.”

Meanwhile the true Antonuccio, who was present, began to

remember what had taken place. Then the puppet Marietta sang
again:

“Dost thou remember how I was the church,

And thou of it becam’st the sacristan?”

He answered:

“Passing away, passing away,

Well do I remember the day.”
“Dost thou remember how I was a garden,
And how thou didst become its gardener?”
“Passing away, passing away,
Well do I now remember the day.”
“Dost thou remember how I was a fountain,
And thou a pigeon flying over it?”
“Passing away, passing away,
Well do I now remember the day.”
“Dost thou remember, Antonuccio,
How ’twas my mother laid a curse on me,
And how she said before she went away—
 When Antonuccio kisses his mother
He’ll forget Marietta and every other?’”
“Passing away, passing away,
Well do I now remember the day.”

Then Antonuccio himself remembered it all, and rising from the

table, ran from the house to where Marietta dwelt—and married her.

This story, adds Miss Lister, is somewhat abbreviated, since in the

original the puppet Marietta, for the edification of all assembled,
repeats the whole story.
It will be at once observed that there is in all this no special
reference to Virgil as a character, as he appears in other legends, the
reason being that the old woman who narrated it simply understood
by the word Virgilio any magician of any kind. So in another tale a
youth exclaims, “Art thou what is called a Virgil?” This is curious as
indicating that the word has become generic in Italian folk-lore. But
Virgil is even here, as elsewhere on the whole, a man of kind heart.
He has had his garden robbed and his daughter stolen, but he
displays at all times a kindly feeling to Antonuccio. It is his wife, the
witch, who shows all the spite.
Nor is this, like the rest, a witch-story which belongs entirely to
esoteric, unholy, or secret lore, specially embodying instruction and
an incantation. It is a mere nursery legend, the commonest of
Italian fairy-tales, to be found in all collections in whole or in part. It
is spread all over Europe, and has found its way through Canadian-
French to the Red Indians of North America—apropos of which I
would remind a certain very clever reviewer and learned folk-lorist
that because many French tales are found among the Algonkin
tribes, it does not follow, as he really intimates, that the said
Redskins have no other traditions.
But even in this version there are classic traces. The cleaning out of
the Augean stables by Hercules is one, and the spell of oblivion
another.
I do not know what the origin may be of the head of the sorcerer
rising from the surface of the earth with ears like mushrooms,
implying that they were very large; but I find in an edition of the
“Meditations of Saint Augustin,” Venice, A.D. 1588, illustrated with
rude, quaint pictures, one in which the holy father is kneeling before
a crucifix, while there rises from the ground before him a great and
terrible head with one very long ear. By it lies the usual skull, one-
fifth its size. Were two women substituted for the saint, it would be
a perfect illustration of the strange scene described in the story. It
is, to say the least, a singular coincidence.
This story is therefore of some value as indicating that the general
term of sorcerer, magician or wizard, is used as a synonym for Virgil,
or vice versâ. As Lucan writes in his “Pharsalia”: “Nec sua Virgilio
permisit nomina soli.” [150]
It is worth noting that there is in the Museum of Florence an
Etruscan mirror on which Mercury and Minerva are represented as
looking at a human head apparently coming from the ground. It
may be that of Orpheus lying upon it; in any case, it is strangely
suggestive of these tales. I am indebted for a tracing of this mirror
to the Rev. J. Wood Brown, author of the “Life of Michael Scott, the
Magician and Philosopher,” wherein the latter hath a dual affinity to
Virgil, and it is very remarkable, as I have elsewhere noted, that the
splitting a hill into three is near Rome ascribed to the Roman poet.
A curious book could be written on heads, decapitated, which have
spoken. There is, I believe, a legend to the effect that the caput of
John the Baptist thus conversed, and it may be that the New
Testament only gives a fragment of the original history. The belief
that Herodias was a sorceress, and a counterpart of Diana as queen
of the witches, was generally established so early as the second
century, but is far older, the original Herodias having been a form of
Lilith. [151]
It is specially to be noted in connection with this tale that one of the
older legends given in “Virgilius the Sorcerer of Rome” expressly
declares that

“Virgilius made an iron head which could not only speak, but
also foretell the future; and, as some say, it was by
misinterpreting the oracle that Virgilius met his death in this
wise. Being about to undertake a journey, he asked the head if
it would come to a good end. The reply was: ‘Yes, if he took
care of his head.’ Taking this to mean the oracle itself, Virgilius
took every measure to secure it, and with light heart went his
way, but while journeying, exposed to sunshine, he was seized
with a fever in the head, of which he died.”

This is again like the death of Michael Scott.

 VIRGIL, THE WICKED PRINCESS,
AND THE IRON MAN.

“An iron man who did on her attend,

His name was Talus, made of yron mould,
Immoveable, resistlesse—without end.”
Spenser: Faerie Queene, v. c. i.

There once lived a Princess who was beautiful beyond words, but
wicked beyond belief; her whole soul was given to murder and
licentiousness; yet she was so crafty as to escape all suspicion, and
this pleased her best of all, for deceit was to her as dear as life
itself. And this she managed, as many another did in those days, by
inveigling through her agents handsome young men into her palace
by night, where they were invited to a banquet and then to a bed,
and all went gaily till the next morning at breakfast, when the
Princess gave her victim in wine or food a terrible and rapid poison,
after which the corpse was carried away secretly by her servants to
be thrown into the river, or hidden in some secret vault; and thus it
was the lady sinned in secret while she kept up a white name before
the world.
Now it came to pass that a young man, who was a great friend of
Virgil, was taken in the snare by this Princess, and put to death and
no more heard of, when the great poet by his magic art learned the
whole truth. Then for revenge or punishment he made a man of
iron with golden locks, very beautiful to behold as a man, with
sympathetic, pleasing air, one who conversed fluently and in a