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diff --git a/37979-h/37979-h.htm b/37979-h/37979-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3d3638 --- /dev/null +++ b/37979-h/37979-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5455 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + Under the Shadow of Etna, by Giovanni Verga. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: left; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.left50 {margin-left: 50%;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%; + text-align: center; + margin-bottom: 2em;} + +img {border: 1px solid black; + padding: 6px;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} +.footnotes { border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none; +} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} + +.b2 {font-size:2.0em;} +.b1 {font-size:1.5em;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + empty-cells: show; +} +.tdr {text-align: right;} +.tdl {text-align: left;} + +.tnbox {margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + margin-bottom: 8em; + margin-top: auto; + text-align: center; + border: 1px solid; + padding: 1em; + color: black; + background-color: #f6f2f2; + width: 25em;} + +.dropcap {float: left; padding-right: 3px; font-size: 250%; line-height: 83%;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Under the Shadow of Etna, by Giovanni Verga + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Under the Shadow of Etna + Sicilian Stories from the Italian of Giovanni Verga + +Author: Giovanni Verga + +Translator: Nathan Dole + +Release Date: November 11, 2011 [EBook #37979] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDER THE SHADOW OF ETNA *** + + + + +Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="tnbox"> +<p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> + +<p>Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have +been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> +</div> + +<h1 class="p6">UNDER THE SHADOW<br /> +OF ETNA</h1> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="shadow" id="shadow"></a> +<img src="images/illus004.jpg" width="420" height="650" alt="UNDER THE SHADOW OF ETNA" /> +<p class="caption">"UNDER THE SHADOW OF ETNA."</p></div> + +<p class="b2 p6 center"> +UNDER THE SHADOW<br /> +OF ETNA</p> + +<p class="p2 center">SICILIAN STORIES FROM THE ITALIAN OF</p> +<p class="center"><span class="b1">GIOVANNI VERGA</span></p> + +<p class="p2 center">BY</p> +<p class="center"><span class="b1">NATHAN HASKELL DOLE</span></p> + +<p class="p6 center"><i>ILLUSTRATED</i></p> + +<p class="p6 center b1">BOSTON<br /> +JOSEPH KNIGHT COMPANY<br /> +1896</p> + +<p class="p6 center"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1895,<br /> +By Joseph Knight Company.</span></p> + +<p class="p6 center">Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.<br /> +Boston, U.S.A.</p> + +<p class="b1 p6 center">CONTENTS.</p> + +<div class="center p2"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="table of contents"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">How Peppa Loved Gramigna</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Jeli, the Shepherd</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Rustic Chivalry</span> (<i>Cavalleria Rusticana</i>)</td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">La Lupa</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Story of the St. Joseph's Ass</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Bereaved</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td> +</tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="b1 p6 center">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="list_of_illustrations"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdr">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">"Under the Shadow of Etna"</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><i><a href="#shadow">Frontispiece</a></i></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Jeli, the Shepherd</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#jeli">22</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">"Lola used to go out on the Balcony +with her Hands Crossed"</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#lola">104</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Death of the St. Joseph's Ass</span></td> +<td class="tdr"><a href="#joseph">158</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<h2 class="p6"><i>INTRODUCTION.</i></h2> + +<p><i>Giovanni Verga was born at Catania, in +Sicily, in 1840. His youth was spent in +Florence and Milan. He afterwards lived +in Catania again, where he had an opportunity +of studying those types of the Sicilian +peasantry which he introduces so effectively, +and with such dramatic suggestion, into many +of his stories and sketches. After experiencing +grievous family losses he returned to +Milan, where he now resides.</i></p> + +<p><i>In "L'Amante di Gramigna" Verga gives, +in the form of a letter to his friend, the novelist, +S. Farina, a sort of brief exposition of his +literary Creed. Much of the drama is left +to the imagination of the reader, who sees +through the lines the action hinted at in a +word or a phrase. Thus, in the story just +mentioned, no definite time-limit is assigned. +Months elapse, but only a passing expression +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">viii</a></span> +gives the clue to it. It is amazing how definite +is the idea left in the mind. It gives all +the vividness of reality.</i></p> + +<p><i>"Cavalleria Rusticana," or "Rustic Chivalry," +has been known all over the world by +its operatic setting by Mascagni. "La Lupa," +which is scarcely less strong and vital, has +been chosen by another Italian composer, +Puccini, as the subject for a two-act opera. +These two, as well as "L'amante di Gramigna" +and "Jeli il Pastore," illustrate the +deeper passions of the Sicilian peasantry. +Verga's sardonic humor is shown in "Gli +Orfani." How the sordid poverty of the people +stands out in the comparison between the +sorrow over the dying ass, and the utterly +materialistic grief at the loss of the painstaking +second wife!</i></p> + +<p><i>"La Storia dell' Asino di San Giuseppe," +well illustrates the average treatment of the +long-suffering, long-eared mules and asses +which make so picturesque a part of the scenery +of Italian and Spanish countries. It is a +document for the Society for the Prevention of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">ix</a></span> +Cruelty to Animals, and well deserves to be +circulated together with "Black Beauty." +What pathos in the sudden transfer of the +poor little beast from comparative comfort, at +least from the "dolce far niente" of its foalhood, +to the grim realities of life, and its +steady and fatal decline through all the gamut +of wretchedness and degradation, to die at +last under the weight of its burdens! And +what side glances on the condition of those unfortunate +Sicilians who live in what ought to +be the very garden and Paradise of the world, +and yet are so oppressed by unregulated +Nature and too well regulated taxes!</i></p> + +<p><i>It is no land of the imagination into which +we are brought by Verga; there is no fascinating +glamour of the virtuous triumphing +after many vicissitudes, and seeing at last the +wicked adequately punished. Here it is grim +reality. The poor and weak go relentlessly to +the wall; innocence and humble ignorance are +crushed by experienced vice, the butterfly is +singed by the flame; there is little joy, little +peace. The fleckless sky shines down brilliantly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">x</a></span> +on wreck of home and fortune; the +son must go to the army, and the daughter to +her shame; the father's gray hairs must be +crowned with dishonor, and despair must +abide in the mother's breast. But yet the +stories are not wholly pessimistic, nor do they +give an utterly hopeless idea of the Sicilian +peasant. He shows his capabilities; the +woman her fiery zeal and faithfulness, even +when on the wrong track. You see that education +and a little real sympathy might make +a great people out of Verga's "Turiddus" +and "Alfios." There are dozens of others of +Verga's short sketches which would repay +translation, but the little collection of Sicilian +pictures here presented is marked by quite +wonderful variety and contrast. They well +illustrate the author's genius at its best.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap left50"><big>Nathan Haskell Dole.</big></span></p> + +<p class="p2"><i>"Hedgecote," Glen Road,<br /> +Jamaica Plain, June 19, 1895</i>.</p> + +<p class="p6 center b1">NOTE.</p> + +<p class="p2">Some of the Italian titles applied to the +characters in these stories are retained. They +are untranslatable; to omit them takes away +from the Sicilian flavor, which is their great +charm. Thus the words <i>compare</i> (<i>con</i> and +<i>padre</i>) and <i>comare</i> (<i>con</i> and <i>madre</i>), literally +godfather and godmother, are used in almost +the same way as "uncle" and "aunt" in our +country districts, only they are applied to +young as well as old; <i>gną</i> is a contraction for +<i>signora</i>, corresponding somewhat to our <i>mis'</i> +for "Mrs." <i>Babbo</i> is like our "dad" or "daddie." +<i>Massaro</i> is a farmer; <i>compagni d'armi</i> +are district policemen, not quite the same as +<i>gens d'armes</i>; <i>Bersegliere</i> is the member of a +special division of the Italian army.</p> + +<h2 class="p6">HOW PEPPA LOVED GRAMIGNA.</h2> + +<p class="center b1 p6">UNDER THE SHADOW<br /> +OF ETNA.</p> + +<p class="center p2"><span class="b1">HOW PEPPA LOVED GRAMIGNA.</span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">1</a></span></p> + +<p class="p2"><span class="dropcap">D</span>ear Farina, this is not a story, but +the outline of a story.</p> + +<p>It will at least have the merit of being +short, and of having fact for its foundation; +it is a human document, as the phrase goes +nowadays:—interesting perhaps for you +and for all those who study the mighty +book of the heart. I will tell it just as I +found it among the country paths, and in +almost the same simple and picturesque +words that characterize the tales of the +people; and really you will prefer to find +yourself facing the bare and unadulterated +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</a></span> +fact rather than being obliged to read between +the lines of the book through the +author's spectacles.</p> + +<p>The simple truth of human life will +always make us thoughtful; will always +have the effectiveness of reality, of genuine +tears, of the fevers and sensations +that have inflicted the flesh. The mysterious +processes whereby conflicting passions +mingle, develop and mature, will long +constitute the chief fascination in the +study of that psychological phenomenon +called the plot of a story, and which +modern analysis tries to follow with scientific +care, through the hidden paths of +oftentimes apparently contradictory complications.</p> + +<p>Of the one that I am going to tell you +to-day I shall only narrate the starting +point and the ending, and that will suffice +for you, as, perchance, some day it will +suffice for all.</p> + +<p>We replace the artistic method to which +we owe so many glorious masterpieces by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span> +a different method, more painstaking and +more recondite; we willingly sacrifice the +effect of the catastrophe, of the psychological +result as it was seen through an +almost divine intuition by the great artists +of the past, and employ instead a logical +development, inexorably necessary, less +unexpected, less dramatic, but not less +fatalistic; we are more modest, if not more +humble; but the conquests that we make +with our psychological verities will not be +any less useful to the art of the future. +Supposing such perfection in the study of +the passions should be ever attained that +it would be useless to go further in the +study of the interior man, will the science +of the human heart, the fruit of the new +art, so far and so universally develop all +the resources of the imagination that in the +future the only romances written will be +"Various Facts?"</p> + +<p>I have a firm belief that the triumph of +the Novel, the completest and most human +of all the works of art, will increase until +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> +the affinity and cohesion of all its parts +will be so perfect, that the process of its +creation will remain a mystery like the +development of human passions; I have +a firm belief that the harmony of its forms +will be so absolute, the sincerity of its +reality so evident, its method and justification +so deeply rooted, that the artist's hand +will remain absolutely invisible.</p> + +<p>Then the romance will seem to portray +a real event, and the work of art will apparently +have come about by itself, spontaneously +springing into being and maturing +like a natural fact, without any point +of contact with its author. It will not have +preserved in its living form any stamp of +the mind in which it originated, any shade +of the eye that beheld it, any trace of the +lips that murmured the first words thereof +as the creative fiat; it will exist by its own +reason, by the mere fact that it is as it +should be and must be, palpitating with +life and as immutable as a statue of +bronze, the author of which has had the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> +divine courage of eclipsing himself and +disappearing in his immortal work.</p> + +<p class="p2">A few years ago, down by the Simeto, +they were giving chase to a brigand, a +certain Gramigna,<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> if I am not mistaken, a +name as cursed as the weed that bears it. +The man had left behind him, from one +end of the province to the other, the terror +of his evil reputation. Carabineers, <i>compagni +d'armi</i>, and cavalry-men had been +on his track for two months, without ever +succeeding in putting their claws on him; +he was alone, but was equal to ten, and the +evil plant threatened to take firm root.</p> + +<p>Moreover the harvest-time was approaching, +the crops already covered the fields, +the ears bent over and were calling to the +reapers, who indeed had their reaping-hooks +in their hands, and yet not a single +proprietor dared show his nose over the +hedge of his estate, for fear of meeting +Gramigna, who might be stretched out +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> +among the furrows with his carbine between +his legs, ready to blow off the head +of the first person who should venture to +meddle with his affairs.</p> + +<p>Thus the complaints were general. +Then the prefect summoned all those +gentlemen of the district—carabineers +and companies of armed men and told +them two words of the kind that makes +men prick up their ears. The next day +an earthquake in every nook and corner:—patrols, +squadrons, scouts for every +ditch and behind every wall; they hunted +him by day, by night, on foot, on horseback, +by telegraph, as if he had been a +wild beast! Gramigna eluded them every +time, and replied with shots if they came +too close on his track.</p> + +<p>In the fields, in the villages, among the +factories, under the signs of country taverns, +wherever people met, Gramigna was +the only topic of conversation,—that wild +chase, that desperate flight. The carabineers' +horses returned dead-tired; the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span> +soldiers threw themselves down in utter +weariness on the ground when they got +back to the stables; the patrols slept +wherever chance offered; Gramigna alone +was never tired, never slept, kept always +on the wing, climbed down precipices, +slipped through the harvest-fields, crept +on all fours among the prickly pear-trees,<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> +made his way out of danger like +a wolf by means of the hidden channels +of the torrents.</p> + +<p>The chief argument of every discourse +at the cross roads, before the village entrances, +was the devouring thirst from +which the fugitive must suffer in the +immense, barren plain, under the June +sun. The lazy loungers opened wide their +eyes.</p> + +<p>Peppa, one of the prettiest girls of +Licodia, was expecting at that time soon +to marry <i>compare</i> Finu, called "<i>Candela +di sego</i>" (the tallow-candle), who had +landed property and a bay mule, and was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> +a tall young man, handsome as the sun, +who carried the standard of Santa Margherita +without bending his back, as +though he were a pillar.</p> + +<p>Peppa's mother shed tears of delight +over the good fortune that had befallen +her daughter, and spent her time in looking +over and over the bride's effects in the +trunk, all white linen and of the nicest +quality, like a queen's, and earrings that +would hang down to the shoulders and +gold rings for all the ten fingers of both +hands; more money than Santa Margherita +could have ever had—and so they +were to have been married on Santa +Margherita's day, which would fall in June, +after the hay had been harvested.</p> + +<p>"Candela di Sego," on his way back +from the field, used every evening to +leave his mule at Peppa's front door and +go in to tell how the crops promised to +be a veritable enchantment, unless Gramigna +set them on fire, and the lattice over +against the bed would not be large enough +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span> +to hold all the grain, and that it seemed to +him a thousand years off before he should +carry home his bride on the crupper of his +bay mule.</p> + +<p>But Peppa one fine day said to him,—</p> + +<p>"Let your mule have a rest, for I do not +wish to get married."</p> + +<p>The poor "Candela di Sego" was dumbfounded, +and the old mother began to +tear her hair when she heard that her +daughter had refused the best match in +the village.</p> + +<p>"I am in love with Gramigna," said the +girl, "and he is the only one whom I will +marry."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" screamed the mamma, and she +stormed through the house, with her gray +hair streaming so that she looked like a +witch—"Ah! that demon has been here +to bewitch my daughter!"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Peppa, with her eyes +flashing like a sword—"no, he has not +been here."</p> + +<p>"Where did you ever see him?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span></p> + +<p>"I never saw him. I have only heard +him spoken of. But I feel something +here, that burns me."</p> + +<p>The report spread through the region, +though they tried to keep it a secret. +The women and girls who had envied +Peppa the prosperous farming, the bay +mule and the handsome youth who could +bear the standard of Santa Margherita +without bending his back, went around +telling all sorts of unkind stories: how +Gramigna had been to visit her one night +in the kitchen, and how he had been seen +hiding under the bed. The poor mother +burnt a lamp for the souls in purgatory +and even the curato went to Peppa's house +to touch her heart with his stole, so as to +drive out that devil of a Gramigna, who +had got possession of it.</p> + +<p>But she persisted in her statement that +she did not know the fellow by sight; +but that she had seen him one night in a +dream, and the following morning she had +got up with her lips dry as if she had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> +herself suffered from all the thirst which +they reported him to be enduring.</p> + +<p>Then the old woman shut her up in the +house, so that she might not hear another +word about Gramigna, and she stopped up +all the cracks of the door with images of +the saints.</p> + +<p>Peppa heard all that was said in the +street behind the sacred images, and she +turned red and white, as if the devil had +kindled all his fires in her face.</p> + +<p>Finally she heard it said that Gramigna +had been located among the prickly pear-trees +of Palagonia.</p> + +<p>"They have been firing for two hours," +they said. "He has killed one carabineer +and wounded more than three <i>compagni +d'armi</i>. But they sent back such a hailstorm +of shots that he must have been hit; +there was a pool of blood where he had +been."</p> + +<p>Then Peppa made the sign of the cross +before the old mother's pillow, and made +her escape out of the window. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span></p> + +<p>Gramigna was in the prickly pear-trees of +Palagonia, and they were not able to find him +in that stronghold of rabbits. He was ragged +and covered with blood, pale after two +days of fasting, burning with fever, and he +had his carbine levelled. When he saw her +coming, resolute, among the prickly pear +bushes, in the dim light of the gloaming, he +hesitated a moment whether to shoot or +not:—</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" he demanded. +"What are you coming here for?"</p> + +<p>"I am coming to stay with you," said +she, looking straight at him. "Are you +Gramigna?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am Gramigna. If you expect to +get those twenty <i>oncie</i><a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> of reward, you are +mightily mistaken."</p> + +<p>"No, I have come to stay with you," +she replied.</p> + +<p>"Go away!" said he. "You can't stay +with me, and I don't want anyone with me. +If you are after money, I tell you you have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> +made a mistake. I haven't any, mind +you! For two days I haven't had even a +morsel of bread."</p> + +<p>"I can't go back home now," said she; +"the place is all full of soldiers."</p> + +<p>"Go away! What is that to me? Each +for himself."</p> + +<p>As she was turning away like a kicked +dog, Gramigna called to her:</p> + +<p>"Say, go and get me a jug of water, +down yonder in the brook. If you want +to stay with me, you must risk your skin."</p> + +<p>Peppa went without saying a word, and +when Gramigna heard the gunshots he +began to laugh immoderately, and said to +himself: "That was meant for me!"</p> + +<p>But when he saw her coming back a few +minutes later with the jug in her hand, +pale and bleeding, he said, before he +sprang forward to snatch the jug from +her, and then when he had drunk till it +seemed as if he had no more breath:</p> + +<p>"You escaped, did you? How did you +do it?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span></p> + +<p>"The soldiers were on the other side, +and there was a thick bush on this."</p> + +<p>"But they put a bullet through your +skin. There's blood on your dress."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Where were you hit?"</p> + +<p>"In the shoulder."</p> + +<p>"That's nothing. You can walk."</p> + +<p>So he allowed her to stay with him. +She followed him, all in rags, shoeless, +suffering from the fever caused by the +wound, and yet she went foraging to +procure for him a jug of water or a piece +of bread, and if she came back with empty +hands, escaping through the gunshots, her +lover, devoured by hunger and thirst, +would beat her. At last one night when +the moon was shining in the prickly pears, +Gramigna said to her,—</p> + +<p>"They are on us."</p> + +<p>And he obliged her to stand with her +back to the rock far in the crevice; then +he fled in another direction. Among the +bushes were heard the frequent reports of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> +the musketry, and the shadows were cut +here and there by quick bright flashes. +Suddenly Peppa heard the sound of steps +near her and saw Gramigna coming back, +dragging along a broken leg. He leaned +against the prickly pear bushes to reload +his carbine:</p> + +<p>"It's all over," he said to her. "Now +they'll take me."</p> + +<p>And what froze the blood in her veins +more than anything else was the light that +shone in his eyes, as if he were a madman.</p> + +<p>Then when he fell on the dry branches +like a log of wood, the soldiers were on +him in an instant.</p> + +<p>The following day they dragged him +through the village street on a cart, all in +rags and covered with blood. The people +who had crowded in to look at him began +to laugh when they saw how small he was, +how pale and ugly like a punchinello. +And it was for him that Peppa had deserted +<i>compare</i> Finu, the "Candela di +Sego!" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span></p> + +<p>The poor "Candela di Sego" went and +hid from sight, as if it behoved him to be +ashamed, and Peppa was led off, handcuffed +by soldiers, as if she also were a +thief,—she who had as much gold as +Santa Margherita! Her poor mother was +obliged to sell all the white linen stored in +her trunk, and the gold earrings and the +rings for the ten fingers, so as to pay the +lawyers who defended her daughter and +bring the girl home again,—poor, ill, in +shame, ugly as Gramigna, and with Gramigna's +child in her arms.</p> + +<p>But when at the end of the trial her +daughter was restored to her, the poor old +soul recited an "Ave Maria" in the bare +and already dark jail among the soldiers +of the guard; it seemed to her that they +had given her back a treasure when she +had nothing else in the world, and she +wept like a fountain at this consolation.</p> + +<p>Peppa on the other hand seemed to +have no tears to shed any more, and said +nothing, and disappeared from sight; yet +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> +the two women went out every day to get +their living by their own hands. People +declared that Peppa had taken up "the +trade" in the woods, and went on robbing +expeditions at night. The truth of the +matter was that she hid herself in the +kitchen like a wild beast in its lair, and it +was only when her old mother was dead of +her privations, and the house had to be +sold, that she left it.</p> + +<p>"See here!" said "Candela di Sego," +who was as much in love with her as ever, +"I could smash your head with two stones +for the evil you have brought on yourself +and others."</p> + +<p>"It's true," replied Peppa, "I know it. +It was God's will."</p> + +<p>After her house and those few wretched +pieces of furniture that were left to her +were sold, she went away from the town +by night, just as she had done before, +without turning round to look at the roof +under which she had slept so long, and +she went to do God's will in the city, with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> +her baby boy, near the prison in which +Gramigna was incarcerated. She could +see nothing else besides the black grated +windows along the mighty silent faēade, +and the sentinels drove her away if she +stopped to look where he might be. At +last she was told that he had not been +there for some time, that he had been +taken away to the other side of the sea, +manacled, and with a basket fastened over +his shoulder.</p> + +<p>She said nothing. She did not go +away; for she knew not where to go, and +she had nothing more to expect. She +made a shift to live, doing chores for the +soldiers, for the prisoners, as if she herself +made a part of that black and silent building; +and she felt for the carabineers who +had taken Gramigna in the thicket of +prickly pears, and who had broken his +leg with their shots, a sort of respectful +tenderness, as it were a brute admiration +of force.</p> + +<p>On holidays, when she saw them with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> +their plumes and their glittering epaulettes, +stiff and erect in their gala uniforms, she +devoured them with her eyes, and she was +always at the barracks cleaning the big +rooms and polishing the boots, so that they +called her "The Carabineers' dish-cloth."</p> + +<p>Only when she saw them load their guns +at nightfall and march out, two and two, +with their trousers turned up, revolver in +belt, and when they mounted horse under +the light that made the muskets flash, and +heard the clattering of the horses' feet +dying away in the darkness and the jingling +of sabres, she always grew pale, and +while she was closing the door of the +stable she shivered; and when her youngster +played with the other urchins on the +glacis before the prison, running among +the legs of the soldiers, and the urchins +called him "Gramigna's son, Gramigna's +son," she flew into a rage and chased them +away with stones.</p> + +<h2 class="p6">JELI, THE SHEPHERD.</h2> + +<div class="figcenter p6"><a name="jeli" id="jeli"></a> +<img src="images/illus041.jpg" width="430" height="650" alt="JELI, THE SHEPHERD" /> +<p class="caption">JELI, THE SHEPHERD.</p> +</div> + +<p class="center p6"><span class="b1">JELI, THE SHEPHERD.</span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span></p> + +<p class="p2"><span class="dropcap">J</span>eli, who had charge of the horses, was +thirteen when he first became acquainted +with the young gentleman, Don +Alfonso. But he was so small that he did +not come up to the belly of the old mare +Bianca, who carried the big bell for the +drove. Wherever his animals wandered +for their pasturage, here and there, on the +mountains and down in the plain, he was +always to be found erect and motionless on +some eminence or squatting on some big +rock.</p> + +<p>His friend, Don Alfonso, while he was +at his country seat, went to find him all +the days that God sent to Tebidi, and +shared with him his piece of chocolate +and shepherd's barley-bread and the fruit +stolen in the neighborhood.</p> + +<p>At first Jeli called the young nobleman +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> +<i>eccellenza</i>—your excellence—as is the custom +in Sicily, but after they had had one +good quarrel their friendship was established +on a solid basis. Jeli taught his +friend how to climb up to the magpies' +nests on the tip-top of the walnut-trees, +higher than the campanile of Licodia, to +knock down a sparrow on the wing with a +stone, and to mount with one spring on the +bare backs of his half-wild animals, seizing +by the mane the first that came within +reach, without being frightened by the +wrathful whinnyings and the desperate +leaps of the untrained colts.</p> + +<p>Ah! the delightful gallops across the +mown fields with their hair flying in the +wind; the lovely April days when the wind +billowed the green grass and the horses +neighed in the pastures; the glorious +summer noons when the whitening fields +lay silent under the cloudy sky, and the +crickets crackled among the clods as +though the stubble were on fire; the +bright wintry sky seen through the naked +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span> +branches of the almond trees shivering +under the north wind, and the narrow +path sounding frozen under the horses' +hoofs, and the larks singing on high in +the warmth, in the azure; the delicious +summer afternoons that passed slowly, +slowly, like the clouds; the sweet odor of +the hay in which they plunged their elbows, +and the melancholy humming of the +evening insects, and those two notes of +Jeli's zufolo or whistle, always the same—iuh +iuh!—making one think of distant +things, of the feast of Saint John, of +Christmas eve, of the dawn of the <i>scampagnata</i>,<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> +of all those great events of the +past which seemed sad, so distant were +they, and made you look up with moistened +eyes as if all the stars that were +kindling in heaven poured showers into +your heart and made it overflow!</p> + +<p>Jeli, himself, did not suffer from any +such melancholy; he squatted on the side +of the hill with puffed-out cheeks, quite +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> +intent on sounding his iuh! iuh! iuh! +Then he would bring together his drove +by dint of shouts and stones, and drive +them into the stable beyond the "poggio +alla Croce."<a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p> + +<p>Out of breath he would mount the hillside +beyond the valley, and sometimes +shout to his friend Alfonso,—</p> + +<p>"Call the dog! ohč! Call the dog!" +or "Fling a good-sized stone at the bay +who's got the better of me and is slowly +wandering away, dallying among the +bushes of the valley," or "To-morrow +bring me a big needle—one of <i>gną</i> Lia's."</p> + +<p>He could do all sorts of things with the +needle, and he had a heap of odds and +ends in his canvas bag, in case of need, to +mend his trousers or the sleeves of his +jacket; he also knew how to braid horsehairs, +and with the clay in the valley he +used to wash out his own handkerchief +which he wore around his neck when it +was cold. In fact, provided he had his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> +bag with him, he needed nothing in the +world, whether he were in the woods of +Resecone, or lost in the depths of the plain +of Caltagirone. <i>Gną</i> Lia used to say,—</p> + +<p>"Do you see Jeli, the shepherd? He is +always alone in the fields, as if he himself +had been born a colt, and that's why he +knows how to make the cross with his two +hands!"<a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>Indeed, it is true that Jeli needed nothing, +but everybody connected with the estate +would have gladly helped him in any way +because he was a serviceable lad, and there +was always a chance of getting something +from him. <i>Gną</i> Lia baked bread for him +out of neighborly love, and he showed his +gratitude by making her osier baskets for +her eggs, reels of reeds, and other little +things.</p> + +<p>"Let us do as his animals do," said <i>gną</i> +Lia, "they scratch each other's backs."</p> + +<p>At Tebidi every one had known him +since he was a baby; there was no time +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> +when he wasn't seen among the tails of +the horses pasturing in the "field of the +<i>lettighiere</i>" and he had grown up, so to +speak, under their eyes, though really no +one ever saw him very much, for he was +forever here and there, roaming about with +his drove.</p> + +<p>"He had rained down from heaven and +the earth had taken him up," as the proverb +has it; he was just one of those who have +neither home nor relatives. His <i>mamma</i> +was out at service at Vizzini, and he never +saw her more than once a year when he +went with his colts to the fair of San Giovanni; +and the day that she died they came +to call him—it was one Saturday evening—and +on the following Monday Jeli was +back with his drove, so that the <i>contadino</i> +who had taken his place in looking after +the horses might not lose a day's work; +but the poor lad came back so upset that +he kept letting the colts get into the +ploughed land.</p> + +<p>"Ohč! Jeli!" cried <i>massaro</i> Agrippino, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> +from the threshing-floor. "You want to +have a taste of the rope's end, do you, you +son of a dog?"</p> + +<p>Jeli started to run after his stray colts, +and drove them mechanically toward the +hill; but always before his eyes he saw his +mamma with her head done up in the white +handkerchief. She would never speak to +him more!</p> + +<p>His father was a cow-herd at Ragoleti, +beyond Licodia, "where the malaria could +be harvested," as the peasants of that +region say, meaning to signify its density; +but in the malarious lands the pasturage is +fat and cows do not catch the fever. Jeli +for that reason stayed in the fields all the +year long, either at Don Ferrante's, or in +the enclosure of la Commenda, or in the +valley of il Jacitano, and the hunters or +travellers who took cross-cut over the country +saw him in this place or in that, like a +dog without a master.</p> + +<p>He did not suffer from this state of things +because he was accustomed to be with his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> +horses, as they moved about leisurely nibbling +the clover, and with the birds who +flew around him in bevies, while the sun +accomplished his daily journey, slowly, +slowly, until the shadows grew long and +then vanished; he had time to watch the +clouds pile up on the horizon, one behind +another, and imagine them mountains and +valleys; he knew how the wind blew when +it brought thunder-showers, and what color +the clouds were when it was going to snow. +Everything had its aspect and significance, +and his eyes and ears were kept on the +alert all day long. In the same way when +toward sunset the young herdsman began +to play his alder-whistle, the brown mare +would come up, lazily cropping the clover, +and also stand looking with great, pensive +eyes.</p> + +<p>The only place where he suffered a little +from melancholy was in the desert lands of +Passanitello, where not a grass-blade or a +shrub is to be seen, and during the hot +months not a bird flies. The horses there +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> +would cluster together with drooping heads +to shade one another, and during the long +days of the threshing that mighty silent +radiance rained down without mitigation +for sixteen hours. Wherever pasturage +was abundant and the horses liked to loiter, +the lad busied himself with something +else—he would make reed-cages for the +crickets, or carved pipes and little baskets +of bulrushes; with four branches he could +set up a shelter for himself when the North +wind drove the long lines of crows through +the valley, or, when the cicadę fluttered +their wings in the broiling sun over the +parched stubble; he would roast acorns in +the coals of his sumach fire and imagine +they were chestnuts, or toast his thick slice +of bread when it began to grow musty, because, +when he was at Passanitello in winter, +the roads were so bad that sometimes a +fortnight would elapse without a single +soul passing.</p> + +<p>Don Alfonso, who had been kept in cotton +by his parents, envied his friend Jeli +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> +the canvas bag in which he stored his +effects,—his bread, his onions, his bottle +of wine, his neckerchief for cold weather, +his little hoard of rags and thread and +needles, his little tin food-box and his flint; +he envied him especially that superb spotted +mare, that animal with rough forelock and +wicked eyes, swelling her indignant nostrils +like a fierce mastiff when anyone tried to +mount her. Sometimes she would allow +Jeli to get on her back and scratch her +ears; she was jealous of him, and would +come smelling round to find out what he +was saying.</p> + +<p>"Let the <i>vajata</i> be," Jeli would say, +"She isn't ugly, but she doesn't know +you."</p> + +<p>After Scordu from Bucchiere took away +the Calabrian which he had bought at San +Giovanni's Fair, under agreement to keep +her in the drove until vintage time, <i>Zaino</i>, +the bay colt, orphaned, refused to be comforted +and galloped over the mountain +precipices with long, lamenting neighings, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> +and its nose in the wind. Jeli ran behind +it, calling to it with loud shouts, and the +colt paused to listen with its head in the +air, and its ears pricking back and forth, +and switching its flanks with its tail.</p> + +<p>"It's because they have carried off his +mother, and he doesn't know what to make +of it," observed the herdsman. "Now we +must keep him in sight, for he would be +capable of jumping over the precipice. +That was the way I felt when my mamma +died; I couldn't see with my eyes."</p> + +<p>Then, after the colt began to try the +clover and to make believe bite:—</p> + +<p>"See! he is gradually beginning to forget.... +But this one will be sold, too. +Horses are made to be sold, just as lambs +are born to go to the butcher, and the +clouds to bring the rain. Only the birds +have nothing else to do but sing and fly all +day."</p> + +<p>These ideas did not come to him clear +cut and in sequence one after the other, +for it was rarely that he had anyone to talk +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> +with, and, therefore, he had no cause for +haste in starting them up and disentangling +them in the depths of his brain, where he +was accustomed to let them sprout and +grow gradually, as the twigs burgeon under +the sun.</p> + +<p>"Even the birds," he added, "have to +hunt for food, and when the snow covers +the ground they perish."</p> + +<p>Then he pondered for a moment,—"You +are like the birds; but when winter comes +you can sit by the fire and do nothing."</p> + +<p>But Don Alfonso replied that he too +went to school and had to study. Jeli +opened his eyes wide and was all ears, +while the signorino began to read, and he +looked at the book and at the young master +himself with a suspicious air, listening with +that slight winking of the eyelids which +indicates intensity of attention in beasts +little accustomed to mankind.</p> + +<p>He was delighted with the poetry that +caressed his ears with the harmony of an +incomprehensible song, and occasionally he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> +frowned, drew up his chin, and made it evident +that a great mental operation was taking +place within him; then he nodded "yes, +yes," with a crafty smile, and scratched +his head. Then when the signorino started +to write so as to show how many things +he knew how to do, Jeli could have staid +whole days watching him; and suddenly he +would look round suspiciously. He could +not be persuaded that the words that were +said either by him or by Don Alfonso could +possibly be repeated on paper, and still +more—those things that had not proceeded +from their mouths, and he ended with that +shrewd smile.</p> + +<p>Every new idea which knocked for entrance +at his head made him suspicious; he +seemed to try it with the wild diffidence of +his <i>vajata</i>. But he expressed no wonder at +anything in the world; he might have been +told that in cities horses rode in carriages,—he +would have kept on that mask of +oriental indifference which is the dignity of +a Sicilian peasant. It would seem as if he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> +intrenched himself instinctively in his ignorance, +as if it were the force of poverty. +Every time that he remained short of arguments +he would repeat,—</p> + +<p>"I do not know at all. I am poor," with +that obstinate smile that was intended to +be shrewd.</p> + +<p>He had asked his friend Alfonso to +write for him the name of Mara on a piece +of paper that he had found somewhere, because +it was his habit to pick up whatever +he saw lying about and put into his packet +of odds and ends. One day, after being +rather quiet and looking round anxiously, +he said, very gravely,—</p> + +<p>"I'm in love with some one."</p> + +<p>Alfonso, though he knew how to read, +opened his eyes in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Yes," continued Jeli, "<i>massaro</i> Agrippino's +daughter Mara, who used to be here; +but now they're at Marineo, in that great +house in the plain that you can see from +the 'plain of the <i>lettighiere</i>' yonder."</p> + +<p>"O you're going to get married, then?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, when I'm grown up and have six +<i>onze</i> a year wages. Mara knows nothing +about it."</p> + +<p>"Why, haven't you told her?"</p> + +<p>Jeli shook his head and reflected. Then +he opened his hoard and unfolded the +paper which bore the written name.</p> + +<p>"It must be that it says 'Mara'; Don +Gesualdo, the <i>campiere</i>,<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> has read it; and +<i>fra</i> Cola, when he came down here begging +for beans."</p> + +<p>"He who knows how to write," he went +on saying, "is like one who preserves words +in his tinder-box and can carry them in his +pocket, and even send them this way and +that."</p> + +<p>"Now what are you going to do with +that piece of paper that you can't read?" +asked Alfonso.</p> + +<p>Jeli shrugged his shoulders, but kept on +carefully folding his written leaf to put +away in his heap of odds and ends.</p> + +<p>He had known la Mara ever since she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> +was a little girl. Their acquaintance had +begun in a pitched battle once when they +met down in the valley, both of them after +blackberries. The little girl, knowing that +she was "within her rights," had seized +Jeli by the neck as if he were a thief. +For awhile they exchanged blows on the +slope—"You one, I one,"—as the cooper +does on the hoops of his barrels; but when +they got tired of it they gradually calmed +down, though they still had each other by +the hair.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" demanded Mara.</p> + +<p>And when Jeli with less breeding refused +to tell who he was,—</p> + +<p>"I am Mara, the daughter of <i>Massaro</i> +Agrippino, who is the keeper of all these +fields here."</p> + +<p>Jeli then let his grasp relax, and the +little girl set to work to pick up the blackberries +that had fallen during their struggle, +now and then glancing with curiosity +at her antagonist.</p> + +<p>"Just beyond the bridge, on the edge of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> +the orchard, there are lots of big berries," +suggested the little maid, "and the hens +are eating them."</p> + +<p>Jeli meantime was creeping off stealthily, +and Mara, after standing on tip-toe to +watch him disappearing in the grove, +turned her back and ran home as fast as +her legs would carry her.</p> + +<p>But from that day forth they began to +be friends. Mara went with her hemp to +spin on to the parapet of the little bridge, +and Jeli would slowly drive his cattle +toward the slopes of the <i>poggio del Bandito</i>. +At first he kept at a distance, roving +around and looking from afar, with suspicion +in his face, but he kept gradually +edging near, with the watchful gait of a +dog used to stones. When at last he +joined her, they remained long hours without +speaking a word, Jeli attentively watching +the intricate work of the stockings +which Mara's mamma had hung round her +neck, or she looking on while he carved +his pretty zig-zags on the almond sticks. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> +Then they would separate, he going one +way, she the other, without saying a word, +and the little girl as soon as she was in +sight of her house would start to run, kicking +high her petticoat with her little red +legs.</p> + +<p>When the prickly pears were ripe they +would settle down in the thick of the bushes, +peeling the figs all the live-long day. They +would wander together under the immemorial +walnuts, and Jeli would beat so +many of the walnuts that they would +shower down thick as hail, and the girl +would tire herself out picking them up with +jubilant shouts—more than she could +carry; and then she would scamper away +nimbly, holding up the two corners of her +apron, bobbing like a little old woman.</p> + +<p>During the winter time, Mara dared not +put her nose out of doors, it was so cold. +Sometimes toward evening could be seen +the smoke of Jeli's fires of sumach wood, +which he built on the <i>Piano del lettighiere</i>, or +on the <i>Poggio di Macca</i>, so as not to perish +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> +of the cold, like the tomtits which he sometimes +found in the morning behind some +rock, or in the shelter of a clod. The +horses also found pleasure in dangling +their tails around the fire, and they would +cuddle close together so as to be warmer.</p> + +<p>In March, the larks came back to the +plain, the sparrows to the roofs, the leaves +and the nests to the hedges. Mara took +up her habit of going about with Jeli in +the soft grass among the flowering bushes +under the still bare trees which were just +beginning to show tender points of green. +Jeli would make his way through the +brambles like a bloodhound, so as to discover +the nests of the blackbirds which +would look up to him in astonishment with +their little keen eyes; the two children +would carry, cuddled in their hearts, little +wee rabbits just born, almost without fur, +but already quick to move their long ears.</p> + +<p>They would scour the fields in pursuit +of the drove of horses, entering the plains +behind the hay-gatherers, step for step +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> +with the herd, pausing every time that a +mare stopped to pluck a mouthful of grass. +At evening, when they got back to the +bridge, they separated, he going in one +direction, she in another, without saying +good-by.</p> + +<p>Thus they passed the whole summer. +When the sun began to go down behind +the <i>Poggio alla Croce</i>, the robin red-breasts +also went toward the mountain, as it grew +dark, following the light among the clumps +of prickly pears. The crickets and cicadę +were no longer heard, and at that hour a +great melancholy spread through the air.</p> + +<p>About that time, to Jeli's tumble-down +hovel came his father, the cowherd, who +had caught the malaria at Ragoleti, and +could scarcely dismount from the ass which +brought him. Jeli started a fire quickly, +and ran to "the hall" for some hen's eggs.</p> + +<p>"Put a little straw down in front of the +fire as soon as you can," said his father, +"for I feel the fever returning."</p> + +<p>The chill of the fever was so severe that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> +<i>compare</i> Menu buried under his thick +cloak, the saddle-bags of the ass and Jeli's +sacks shook as the leaves do in November, +in spite of the great blaze of branches +which made his face white as a corpse.</p> + +<p>The contadini of the farm came to ask +him,—</p> + +<p>"How do you think you feel, <i>compare</i> +Menu?"</p> + +<p>The poor man could only answer with +a whine like a sucking puppy.</p> + +<p>"It's a kind of malaria that kills more +surely than a rifle bullet," said his friends, +as they warmed their hands at the fire.</p> + +<p>The doctor was called, but it was money +thrown away, because the disease is one of +those clear and evident ones which even a +boy would know how to cure; unless the +fever happens to be so severe that it will +kill at any rate, a little quinine cures it +quickly.</p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Menu spent the eyes of his +head for quinine but it was as good as +thrown down a well. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span></p> + +<p>"Take a good dose of <i>ecalibbiso</i> tea, +which does not cost anything," suggested +<i>massaro</i> Agrippino, "and if it doesn't +work as well as quinine it doesn't ruin you +by its cost."</p> + +<p>So he took the decoction of eucaliptus, +but the fever returned all the same, and +even more violently. Jeli attended to his +father the best he knew how. Every morning +before he went off with his colts, he left +him his medicine all prepared in a drinking +cup, his bundle of dry branches within +reach, his eggs in the hot ashes, and he +came back as early as he could in the +afternoon with more wood for the night, +and the bottle of wine and a little piece of +mutton, which he had gone as far as +Licodia to buy for him. The poor lad did +everything as handily as a clever maiden +would have done, and his father, following +him with weary eyes in his operations +about the hovel, sometimes smiled to think +that the boy would be able to do for himself +in case he were left alone in the world. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span></p> + +<p>On days when the fever left him for a +few hours, <i>compare</i> Menu would get up, all +feeble as he was, and with his head +wrapped in his handkerchief, would stagger +out to the door to wait for Jeli while the +sun was still warm. When Jeli dropped +the bundle of wood at the door-steps, and +placed the bottle and the eggs on the table, +he would say to him,—</p> + +<p>"Put the <i>ecalibbiso</i> to boiling for to-night," +or, "Remember that your aunt +Agata has charge of your mother's money, +when I shall be no more."</p> + +<p>Jeli would nod "yes" with his head.</p> + +<p>"It is hopeless," said <i>massaro</i> Agrippino, +every time he came to see <i>compare</i> Menu +and his fever. "His blood is all diseased +by this time."</p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Menu listened without winking, +with his face whiter than his night-cap.</p> + +<p>He now no longer got up. Jeli began to +weep when he found himself not strong +enough to help him turn from one side to +the other; shortly after <i>compare</i> Menu lay +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> +perfectly still. The last words that he +spoke to his boy were,—</p> + +<p>"When I am dead, go to the owner of +the cows at Ragoleti and let him give you +the three <i>onze</i> and the twelve <i>tumoli</i> of corn, +which are my due from March till now."</p> + +<p>"No," replied Jeli, "it's only two <i>onze</i> +and a half, because you left the cows more +than a month ago, and one must be fair to +one's <i>padrone</i>."</p> + +<p>"True!" agreed <i>compare</i> Menu, closing +his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Now I am quite alone in the world, +like a lost colt which the wolves may eat!" +said Jeli to himself, when his father had +been carried off to the cemetery of Licodia.</p> + +<p>Mara had been one of those who came +to see the dead man's house with that +morbid curiosity which is excited by horrible +things.</p> + +<p>"Do you see how I am left?" asked +Jeli, but the girl drew back so frightened +that he could not induce her to step inside +the house where the dead man had been. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span></p> + +<p>Jeli went to receive the money due his +father, and then he started off with his +drove for Passanitello, where the grass was +already tall on the fallow-land, and the +fodder was abundant; therefore, the colts +remained there for some time in pasture.</p> + +<p>Meantime Jeli had been growing into a +big lad, and Mara also must be grown tall, +he often thought to himself, while he played +on his <i>zufalo</i>; and when he returned to +Tebidi after some little time, slowly driving +forward the mares through the dangerous +paths of "Uncle Cosimo's Fountain," +he scanned the little bridge down in +the valley, and the hovel in the <i>Valle del +Jacitano</i>, and the roof of "the Hall" where +the pigeons were always flying.</p> + +<p>But at that time the <i>padrone</i> had dismissed +<i>massaro</i> Agrippino, and all Mara's +family were just on the point of moving +away.</p> + +<p>Jeli found the girl, who had grown tall +and very pretty, standing at the entrance +of the yard watching the furniture and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> +things, which they were loading on the cart. +The empty room seemed to him more +gloomy and smoky than ever before. The +table, the commode and the images of the +Virgin and of Saint John, and even the +nails for hanging up the gourds for seed +had left on the walls the marks where they +had been for so many years.</p> + +<p>"We are going away," said Mara, when +she saw him looking around. "We are +going down to Marineo, where the great +house stands in the plain."</p> + +<p>Jeli took hold and helped <i>massaro</i> Agrippino +and <i>la gną Lia</i> load up the cart, and +when there was nothing else to carry out +of the room he went and sat down with +Mara on the edge of the watering-trough.</p> + +<p>"Even houses," he remarked, when he +saw the last hamper piled on, "even houses, +when anything is taken away from them, +do not any longer seem the same."</p> + +<p>"At Marineo," replied Mara, "we shall +have much better rooms, mamma says, and +large as the cheese house." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now that you are going away, I shall +not want to come here any more; it seems +to me as if winter had come back—to see +that door closed."</p> + +<p>"At Marineo we shall find other friends, +Pudda <i>la rossa</i> and the <i>campiere's</i> daughter; +it will be jolly there; they have more than +eighty harvesters in the season, and the +bag-pipes, and they dance on the threshing-floor."</p> + +<p><i>Massaro</i> Agrippino and his wife had +gone off with the cart. Mara ran behind +them, full of joyous excitement, carrying +the baskets with the pigeons. Jeli was +going to accompany her as far as the little +bridge; and when Mara was just on the +point of disappearing down the valley he +called after her, "Mara! oh! Mara!"</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" demanded Mara.</p> + +<p>He knew not what he wanted.</p> + +<p>"Oh! what will you do here all alone?" +asked the girl.</p> + +<p>"I shall stay with the colts."</p> + +<p>Mara ran skipping away, and he stood +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> +there as if rooted to the spot so as to catch +the last sounds of the cart rattling over +the stones.</p> + +<p>The sun was just resting on the high +rocks of the <i>Poggio alla Croce</i>, the gray +crests of the olive trees were shading into +the twilight and over the vast campagna +far away, nothing was heard except the +tinkling bell of "Bianca" in the gathering +stillness.</p> + +<p>Mara, now that she was in the midst of +new faces and amid all the bustle of the +grape gathering, forgot about Jeli; but he +was always thinking about her, because he +had nothing else to do in the long days +that he spent looking at the horses' tails. +There was now no special reason for him to +go down into the valley beyond the bridge, +and no one ever saw him any more at the +farm.</p> + +<p>Thus it was that he was for some time +ignorant that Mara had become betrothed—so +much water had run and run under +the bridge. The only time that he saw +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> +the girl was on the day of Saint John's <i>Festa</i>, +when he went to the fair with his colts to +sell; a festa which changed everything for +him into poison, and caused the bread to +fall out of his mouth by reason of an accident +that befell one of the <i>padrone's</i> colts—the +Lord deliver us!</p> + +<p>On the day of the fair, the factor waited +for the colts ever since dawn, walking impatiently +up and down in his well-polished +boots behind the groups of horses and +mules that came filing in along the highway +from this direction and that. It was almost +time for the fair to close, and still +Jeli with his animals was not in sight beyond +the turn made by the highway. On +the parched slopes of <i>Calvario</i> and the +<i>Mulino a vento</i>—the Wind-Mill Mountain—there +remained only a few droves of sheep +gathered in a circle, with noses drooping +and weary eyes, and a few yoke of oxen +with long hair—of the kind that are sold +to satisfy unpaid rent, waiting motionless +under the boiling sun. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span></p> + +<p>Yonder toward the valley, the bell of +San Giovanni's was ringing for High +Mass, accompanied by the long crackling +of the fireworks.</p> + +<p>Then the fair grounds seemed to spring +up, and there ran a prolonged cry among +the shops of the green grocers, clustered +in the place called <i>salita dei Galli</i>, spreading +through the country roads and seeming +to return from the valley where the church +stood.</p> + +<p>"Viva San Giovanni!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Santo diavolone!</i>" screamed the factor. +"That assassin of a Jeli will make me lose +the fair!"</p> + +<p>The sheep lifted their heads in astonishment +and began to bleat all at once, and +the cattle also made a step or two, slowly +looking around with their great, calm eyes.</p> + +<p>The factor was in a rage because he was +expected that day to pay the rent due for +the large enclosures—as the contract expressed +it, "when Saint John arrived under +the elm;" and to make up the full sum, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> +the profits on the sale of the colts was necessary. +Meantime the colts and horses +and mules were coming in such numbers +as the good Lord had seen fit to make, all +curried and shining and adorned with tassels +and cockades and bells; and they +were switching their tails to while away +their tedium, and turning their heads +toward every one who passed, and evidently +waiting for some charitable soul +willing to buy them.</p> + +<p>"He must have gone to sleep on the +way, the assassin!" yelled the factor, "and +so made me lose the sale of my colts."</p> + +<p>In reality, Jeli had travelled all night so +that the colts might reach the fair fresh, +and get a good position on their arrival; +and he had reached the <i>piano del Corvo</i>, +and the "three kings" had not yet set, +but were shining over <i>monte Arturo</i>. +There was a continuous procession of +carts passing along the road, and people +mounted on horses or mules going to the +<i>festa</i>. Therefore, the young fellow kept +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> +his eyes open so that the colts, frightened +by the unusual commotion, might not get +away, but that he might keep them together +along the ridge of the road behind +<i>la bianca</i>, the white mare, who with the +bell around her neck, always travelled +straight ahead without minding anything.</p> + +<p>From time to time, when the road ran +over the crest of the hills, the bell of +Saint John's could be heard in the distance, +and in the darkness and silence of the +plain the rumor of the <i>festa</i> was distinguishable, +and along the whole road far +away, wherever there were people on foot +or on horseback going to Vizzini, were +heard shouts of "<i>Viva San Giovanni!</i>" +And the rockets rose up high in the air +and brilliant behind the mountains of la +Canzaria, like the rain of meteors in +August.</p> + +<p>"It is like Christmas Eve!" Jeli kept +saying to the boy, who was helping him +drive the herd. "And in every place +there is feasting and light, and throughout +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> +the whole campagna you can see fireworks."</p> + +<p>The boy was half asleep as he forced +one leg after the other, and he made no +response; but Jeli, who felt his blood stir +within him at the sound of that bell, could +not keep quiet, as if each one of those +rockets that left their silent shining trails +on the darkness behind the mountains +burst forth from his soul.</p> + +<p>"Mara also must be going to the <i>festa</i> +of Saint John," he said, "because she goes +every year."</p> + +<p>And without caring because the boy +made no reply,—</p> + +<p>"Don't you know? Mara is now so big +that she must be taller than her mother, +and when I saw her last I couldn't believe +that it was the very same girl with whom I +used to go after prickly pears and knock +off the nuts."</p> + +<p>And he began to sing at the top of his +voice all the songs that he knew.</p> + +<p>"Oh Alfio, why do you sleep?" he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> +cried, when he was through with them. +"Look out that you keep <i>la bianca</i> always +behind you, look out!"</p> + +<p>"No, I am not asleep," replied Alfio, +with a hoarse voice.</p> + +<p>"Do you see <i>la puddara</i><a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> which stands +winking down at us yonder, as if they were +firing up rockets also at Santa Domenica? +It is almost sunrise; we shall reach the +fair in time to secure a good position. Ah! +<i>morellino bello</i>! you pretty little brownie! +You shall have a new halter, that you +shall, with red cockades for the fair; and +so shall you, <i>stellato</i>!"<a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></p> + +<p class="p2">Thus he went on, talking to one and +another of his colts so that they might be +encouraged hearing his voice in the darkness. +But it grieved him to think that +the <i>stellato</i> and the <i>morellino</i> were going to +the fair to be sold. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span></p> + +<p>"When they are sold, they'll go off with +a new master, and we shan't see them any +more in the herd, just as it was with Mara +after she went to Marineo.</p> + +<p>"Her father is well-to-do down there at +Marineo, and when I was there, found +myself, poor fellow that I was, sitting down +to bread and wine and cheese, and everything +good that God gives, and as if he +were the factor himself, and he has the +keys to everything, and I could eat up +the whole place if I had wanted. Mara +scarcely knew me, it had been so long +since we had seen each other, and she +cried out,—'Oh, look! there's Jeli the +guardian of the horses, from Tebidi. He +is like one who comes home from abroad, +who only at the sight of the distant mountain-top +is quick enough to recognize the +country where he grew up.' <i>Gną</i> Lia +didn't want me to speak to her daughter +with the <i>thee</i> and the <i>thou</i>, because Mara +had grown to be so big, and the people +who don't know about things easily gossip. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> +But Mara only laughed, and looked +as if she had only just that minute been +baking the bread, so rosy her face was; she +was getting the dinner ready, and she was +unfolding the table-cloth, and she seemed +different. 'Oh, have you forgotten Tebidi?' +I asked her as soon as <i>gną</i> Lia went out +to broach a fresh cask of wine. 'No, no, +I haven't forgotten' said she. 'At Tebidi +there was a bell with a campanile looking +like the handle of a salt-cellar, and there +used to be two stone cats which stood at +the entrance of the garden.' I felt all +through me those things that she was saying. +Mara looked at me from head to +heels, with her eyes wide open, and then +she said,—'How tall you've grown!' and +then she began to laugh, and then she +patted me on the head—here!"</p> + +<p>In this way Jeli, the guardian of the +horses, came to lose his place; for just at +that instant there suddenly appeared a +coach, which had given no sign of its approach, +because it had been slowly climbing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> +the steep ascent, but started off at full +speed as soon as it reached the level ground +at the top, with a great cracking of whips +and jingling of bells, as if it were carried +by the devil himself. The colts, in alarm, +galloped off quicker than a flash, as if there +had been an earthquake, and all the shouts +and cries and <i>ohi! ohi! ohi's!</i> of Jeli and +the boy scarcely sufficed to collect them +again around <i>la bianca</i>, who in spite of her +gravity had shied away desperately with +the bell around her neck.</p> + +<p>When Jeli had counted over his animals +he discovered that <i>stellato</i> was missing, and +he buried his hands in his hair, because at +that place the road ran along side a deep +ravine, and it was down in that ravine that +<i>stellato</i> broke his back—a colt worth a +dozen <i>onze</i>, like a dozen angels from Paradise! +Weeping and shouting he went +calling the colt <i>ahu! ahu!</i> It was too dark +to see it. At last <i>stellato</i> replied from the +bottom of the ravine with a melancholy +neigh, as if it had human speech, poor +creature! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma mia!" cried Jeli and the +boy, as they went to it. "Oh, what bad +luck! mamma mia!"</p> + +<p>The travellers on their way to the <i>festa</i>, +hearing such a lamentation in the darkness, +asked what they had lost, and then +when they learned what had happened, +went on their way.</p> + +<p>The <i>stellato</i> remained motionless where +it had fallen, with its legs in the air, and +while Jeli was feeling it all over, weeping +and talking to it as if he could make it +understand, the poor creature stretched +out its neck painfully and turned its head +toward him, and then could be heard its +breathing, cut short by its agony.</p> + +<p>"Something must be broken!" mourned +Jeli in despair, because nothing could be +seen in the darkness; and the colt, inert as +a rock, let its head fall back. Alfio, who +remained on the road above in charge of +the drove, had begun to view the matter +more calmly, and had taken out his bread +from his bag. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span></p> + +<p>The sky by this time was beginning to +grow pale, and the mountains all around +seemed to be blossoming out, one after +another, dark and high. From the bend +in the road the country round about began +to stand out, with <i>monte del Calvario</i> and +<i>monte del Mulino a vento</i>—the Windmill +Mountain—outlined against the dawn. +They were still in shadow, but the flocks of +sheep made white blurs, and as the herds +of cattle grazing along the ridge of the +mountains wandered hither and thither +against the azure sky, it seemed as if the +profile of the mountain itself were alive +and full of motion.</p> + +<p>The bell from the depths of the valley +was no longer heard; travellers were growing +less numerous, and those who passed +along were in haste to reach the fair. +Poor Jeli knew not what saint to call on in +that solitude. Alfio himself could not help +him in any way; so the boy continued +breaking off the morsels of his loaf leisurely. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span></p> + +<p>At last the factor was seen coming along +mounted, cursing and swearing as he +came, at seeing his animals stopped on +the road. When Alfio saw him he ran off +down the hill. But Jeli did not stir from +the side of the <i>stellato</i>. The factor left his +mule by the roadside, and climbed down +into the ravine. He tried to help the colt +to rise; he pulled him by the tail.</p> + +<p>"Let him be," said Jeli, as white in the +face as if it were himself whose back was +broken. "Let him be! Don't you see +that he can't move, poor creature."</p> + +<p>The <i>stellato</i>, in fact, at every movement +and at every attempt made to help him, +set up a screech that seemed human. The +factor fell on Jeli tooth and nail, and gave +him as many kicks as there are angels and +saints in Paradise. By this time Alfio had +got his courage back, and had returned to +the road, so that the animals might not be +without a guardian, and he tried to excuse +himself, saying, "'T wasn't my fault. I +was on ahead with the <i>bianca</i>." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's nothing more to be done," +said the factor at last, having persuaded +himself that it was all time lost. "Nothing +can be done with this colt but to take +his pelt; that's good for something."</p> + +<p>Jeli began to tremble like a leaf when he +saw the factor go and fetch his gun from +the mule's pack.</p> + +<p>"Get off of him, good-for-nothing!" +shouted the factor. "I don't know what +keeps me from laying you out beside this +colt, which is worth more than you, in +spite of the swine's baptism which that +thief of a priest gave you!"</p> + +<p>The <i>stellato</i>, unable to move, turned its +head, with its big, steady eyes, as if it +understood every word, and its skin crisped +in waves along the back-bone as if a chill +ran over it.</p> + +<p>In that way, the factor killed the <i>stellato</i> +on the spot, so as at least to save his pelt, +and the dull noise which the gun held at +short range made, as the charge pierced +the living flesh, Jeli thought he felt in his +own heart. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now if you want a piece of advice +from me," said the factor, as he left him +there, "I'd not let the master lay eyes on +you, in spite of that bit of wages due you, +for you may be sure, he'd give it to you +with a vengeance!"</p> + +<p>The factor went off together with Alfio, +taking along the other colts, which did not +once turn round to see what had become +of the <i>stellato</i>, but proceeded cropping the +grass along the ridge. The poor <i>stellato</i> +was left alone in the ravine waiting for the +knacker to flay him, its eyes were still wide +open, and its four legs stretched into the +air, for to stretch them up was the only +thing it could do.</p> + +<p>Jeli, now that he had seen how the factor +had been able to aim at the colt, as it +painfully lifted its head in fear, and had +been courageous enough to fire off the gun +at it, no longer wept, but remained sitting +on a rock looking at the <i>stellato</i> till the +men came to take off the pelt. Now he +might go at his own pleasure and enjoy the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> +<i>festa</i>, or stand in the square all day long +and see the gentlemen in the <i>café</i>, as best +pleased him, for now he no longer had +bread or a shelter, and it behooved him to +find a new <i>padrone</i>, if any one would take +him after the misfortune of the <i>stellato</i>.</p> + +<p>Thus go things in this world:—While +Jeli was seeking a new employer, walking +about with his bag over his shoulder and +his staff in his hand, the band was playing +gayly in the square, with plumes in their +caps, and surrounded by a merry throng +of white hats thick as flies, and the gentlemen +were enjoying themselves as they sat +at their coffee. All the people were +dressed in holiday attire like the animals +of the fair, and in one corner of the square +was a lady, with a short gown and flesh-colored +stockings, making her appear bare-legged, +and she was pounding on a great +box before a great painted sheet on which +appeared a slaughter of Christians with +blood flowing in torrents, and, there among +the throng, gazing with open mouth, was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> +<i>massaro</i> Cola, whom he used to know when +he was at Passanitello, and he told him that +he would find him an employer, because +<i>compare</i> Isidoro Macca was in want of a +herdsman for his hogs.</p> + +<p>"But I wouldn't say anything about +<i>stellato</i>," recommended <i>massaro</i> Cola. "A +misfortune like that might happen to any +one in the world. But it is best not to +talk about it."</p> + +<p>So they went in search of <i>compare</i> +Macca, who was at the ball, and while +<i>massaro</i> Cola went to plead his cause, Jeli +waited outside in the street in the midst of +the throng, who were gazing in at the door +of the hall. In the big room, there was a +world of people jumping about enjoying +themselves, all flushed and perspiring, and +making a great trampling on the floor, +while above all was heard the <i>ron ron</i> of +the double bass, and as soon as one piece +of music, costing a <i>grano</i>,<a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> was finished +they would all lift their fingers to signify +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> +that they wanted another; and the man of +the double bass would make a cross with a +piece of charcoal on the wall, to keep +account to the last, and then begin over +again.</p> + +<p>"Those in there spend without thought," +said Jeli, to himself. "That means that +they have their pockets full and are not in +trouble as I am, for lack of an employer, +and if they sweat and tire themselves out +in dancing, it is for their own pleasure, as +if they were paid by the day."</p> + +<p><i>Massaro</i> Cola came back saying that +<i>compare</i> Macca needed no one.</p> + +<p>Then Jeli turned away, and walked off +gloomily, gloomily.</p> + +<p>Mara's home was toward Sant'Antonio, +where the houses climb up the mountainside, +facing the valley of la Canziria, all +green with prickly pears, and with the mill-wheels +churning the water into foam in +the lowlands by the stream. But Jeli +hadn't the courage to go in that direction, +now that they needed no one to watch the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span> +swine; and, making his way amid the +throng which jostled him and pushed him +without any thought of him, he seemed +more alone than ever he had been when he +was with his colts in the plains of Passanitello, +and he felt like weeping.</p> + +<p>At last <i>massaro</i> Agrippino, wandering +about with his arms swinging, and enjoying +the <i>festa</i>, fell in with him in the square, +and shouted to him,—</p> + +<p>"Oh! Jeli! oh!" and took him home.</p> + +<p>Mara was in gala dress, with such long +ear-rings that they hung down to her +cheeks, and she was standing on the +threshold with her hands folded, loaded +with rings, waiting till it should grow dark, +so as to go and see the fireworks.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Mara to him, "so you have +come also for the <i>festa</i> of Saint John!"</p> + +<p>Jeli did not want to go in because he +was shabbily dressed, but <i>massaro</i> Agrippino +forced him in saying that it was not +the first time they had ever seen each +other, and that he knew that he had come +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> +to the fair with his employer's colts. <i>Gną</i> +Lia poured him out a good generous glass +of wine, and wanted to take him with them +to see the illuminations, together with the +<i>comari</i> and their other neighbors.</p> + +<p>When they reached the square Jeli stood +with open mouth, wondering at the spectacle; +the whole square seemed a sea of fire +as when the steppes are burning, and the +reason was the great number of torches +which the devout lighted under the eyes of +the saint, who stood enjoying it all at the +entrance of <i>il Rosario</i>—all black under his +silver baldachin. The acolytes were coming +and going amid the flames like so +many demons, and there was, moreover, a +woman in loose attire and with dishevelled +hair, and with her eyes staring out of her +head, also engaged in lighting the candles, +and a priest in a black soutane and without +a hat, like one rendered crazy by +religion.</p> + +<p>"There's the son of <i>massaro</i> Neri, the +factor of Saloni, and he is spending more +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> +than ten <i>lire</i> for rockets," said <i>gną</i> Lia, +pointing to a young man who was going +round through the square holding two +rockets in each hand, just like candles, so +that all the women devoured him with their +eyes, and cried to him: "<i>Viva San Giovanni!</i>"</p> + +<p>"His father is rich and owns more than +twenty head of cattle," added <i>massaro</i> +Agrippino.</p> + +<p>Mara also knew well that he had carried +the great banner in the procession, and held +it as straight as a pillar—such a strong and +handsome youth was he.</p> + +<p><i>Massaro</i> Neri's son seemed to have +heard them, and he set off his rockets for +Mara, making the wheel of fire before her, +and after this part of the fireworks was +over, he joined them, and took them to the +ball and to the cosmorama, where the new +world and the old world were to be seen +depicted, and he paid for them all, even +for Jeli, who followed behind the others +like a masterless cur, to see <i>massaro</i> Neri's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> +son dancing with Mara, who whirled round +and crouched down like a dove on a roof, +and held daintily up the corner of her +apron, and <i>massaro</i> Neri's son gamboling +like a colt, so that <i>gną</i> Lia wept like a +child at the consolation of the sight, and +<i>massaro</i> Agrippino nodded with his head +to signify that all was going to his mind.</p> + +<p>At last when they were all tired, they +went out where the people were promenading, +and they were carried away by the +crowd as if they were in the midst of a +torrent, and there they saw the transparencies +lighted where the decapitation of Saint +John was represented with such faithfulness +that it would have moved the heart of a +Turk, and the saint kicked out his legs like +a goat under the hatchet. Near by the +band was playing under a great wooden +umbrella, all lighted up, and in the square +there was such a crowd that one would +have said never before had so many +Christians come to the fair.</p> + +<p>Mara went holding <i>massaro</i> Neri's son's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> +arm, as if she were a fine lady, and she +whispered into his ear and laughed, as if +she were having a fine time. Jeli was +utterly tired out, and actually went to sleep +sitting on the sidewalk till the first bombs +of the fireworks were sent up. At that +moment Mara was still by the side of +<i>massaro</i> Neri's son, leaning against him +with her hands clasped on his shoulder, +and in the different-colored lights from the +fireworks she seemed now all white and +now all rosy. When the last sparks died +away in the darkness of the sky, <i>massaro</i> +Neri's son turned toward her, with green +light on his face, and gave her a kiss.</p> + +<p>Jeli said nothing, but at that instant all +that he had enjoyed till then changed into +poison, and he began once more to think +of his misfortunes, which he had for the +moment forgotten—that he was without +an employer—and knew not what to do, +nor where to go, that he had no food or +shelter; that the dogs might eat him as +they were eating the poor <i>stellato</i> left down +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> +in the bottom of the ravine, skinned to the +hoofs!</p> + +<p>Meantime, around him the people were +still making merry in the darkness that +had ensued; Mara, with her companions, +was dancing and singing through the rock-paved +streets as they turned homeward.</p> + +<p>"Good-night! Good-night—<i>buona notte</i>!" +shouted the people to one another, as they +were left at their own doors. Mara shouted +"good-night—<i>buona notte</i>!" in her musical +voice, and it expressed her happiness, and +<i>massaro</i> Neri's son did not see fit to leave +her while <i>massaro</i> Agrippino and <i>gną</i> Lia +were disputing about the opening of the +house door. No one gave Jeli a thought, +till at last <i>massaro</i> Agrippino remembered +him, and said,—</p> + +<p>"And where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Jeli.</p> + +<p>"Come and see me to-morrow and I will +help you find a place. For to-night, go +back to the square where we have been +hearing the band play. You'll find a spot +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> +on some bench, and sleep out doors; you +must be used to that."</p> + +<p>Jeli was used to that, but what pained +him was that Mara said nothing to him, +but left him there at the door as if he were +a beggar; and the next day when he came +back to see <i>massaro</i> Agrippino, he was +hardly alone with the girl before he said to +her,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>gną</i> Mara! How you forget old +friends!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that you, Jeli?" replied Mara. +"No, I haven't forgotten you. But I was +so tired after the fireworks!"</p> + +<p>"You're in love with him aren't you—<i>massaro</i> +Neri's son?" demanded Jeli, twirling +his staff in his hands.</p> + +<p>"What are you saying?" abruptly interposed +<i>gną</i> Mara. "My mother is there +and hears everything you say."</p> + +<p><i>Massaro</i> Agrippino found him a place as +shepherd at la Salonia, where <i>massaro</i> +Neri was factor, but as Jeli was not very +much skilled in taking care of sheep, he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> +had to be content with far smaller wages +than he had been having.</p> + +<p>Now he attended faithfully to his flocks, +and strove to learn how cheese is made—the +ricotta and the <i>caciocavallo</i>, and all the +other products of the flocks; but in the +gossip that went on at eventide in the +yard, among the shepherds and <i>contadini</i>, +while the women were preparing the beans +for the soup, if ever <i>massaro</i> Neri's son +was mentioned as soon to marry <i>massaro</i> +Agrippino's Mara, Jeli said not a word, +and never dared open his mouth.</p> + +<p>One time when the keeper insulted him, +by saying, jestingly, that Mara refused to +have anything more to do with him, after +every one had declared that they were to +be husband and wife, Jeli, as he went to +the pot where the milk was boiling, replied, +as he slowly shook in the rennet,—</p> + +<p>"Now Mara has grown to be so pretty, +she seems like a lady."</p> + +<p>But as he was patient and laborious, +and quickly got hold of the secrets of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> +business, even better than one who had +been born to it, and as he was accustomed +to be with animals, he came to love his +sheep as if they were his own, and for this +reason the distemper—<i>il male</i>—did not +do so much damage at la Salonia, and the +flock prospered, so that it was a delight for +<i>massaro</i> Neri every time that he came +to the estate, and the next year it was +no great trouble to induce the <i>padrone</i> to +increase Jeli's wages, so that he came to +have as much as he got in looking out for +the horses. And it was money well spent, +for Jeli never thought of reckoning up the +miles and miles that he travelled in search +of the best pasturage for his flock, and if +the sheep were with young or were sick, he +would take them to his saddle-bags and +carry the lambs in his arms, and they +would lick his face, thrusting their noses +out of his pocket, and they would even +suck his ears.</p> + +<p>In the famous snow storm of Santa +Lucia's night, the snow fell four handbreadths +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> +deep in the <i>lago morto</i> at la +Salonia, and all around for miles and miles +there was nothing else to be seen when day +came, and nothing would have been left of +the sheep but the ears, had not Jeli got up +three or four times in the course of the +night to drive the sheep into the yard, so +that the poor beasts shook the snow from +their backs and did not remain, as it were +buried, as was the case in so many of the +neighboring flocks—at least so <i>massaro</i> +Agrippino said when he came to give a +look to a field of beans which he had at la +Salonia, and he also said that that story of +<i>massaro</i> Neri's son marrying his daughter +Mara was a lie made up of whole cloth—that +Mara had some one else in mind.</p> + +<p>"It was said they were to be married at +Christmas," said Jeli.</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort; they aren't to +marry at all; it's all the gossip of envious +folks who meddle with others' business," +replied <i>massaro</i> Agrippino.</p> + +<p>But the keeper, who had known about it +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> +for some time, having heard it talked about +in town when he was there on Sunday, told +the story as it really was, after <i>massaro</i> +Agrippino had gone away.</p> + +<p>"The engagement was broken because +<i>massaro</i> Neri's son had learned that +<i>massaro</i> Agrippino's Mara was keeping +company with Don Alfonso, the signorino, +who had known Mara from a little girl; +and <i>massaro</i> Neri had declared that his +son was to be a man respected as his +father was, and the only horns he wanted +in his house should be those of his oxen."</p> + +<p>Jeli was present at this conversation, sitting +with the others in the circle at breakfast, +and at that instant was cutting his +bread. He still said nothing, but his appetite +left him for that day.</p> + +<p>While he was driving his sheep out to +pasture he began to think of Mara, as she +had been when she was a little girl, when +they were together all day long wandering +through the <i>valle del Jacitano</i> and over the +<i>poggio alla Croce</i>, and how she stood looking +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> +at him, with her chin in the air, while +he climbed up to the tree-tops after the +birds' nests; and he thought also of Don +Alfonso, who used to come and see him +from the neighboring villa, and how they +would stretch themselves out on their +bellies, stirring up crickets' nests with +straws. All these things he considered +and reconsidered for hours and hours, as +he sat on the edge of the brook, holding +his knees between his arms, and thinking +of the tall walnuts of Tebidi, and the thick +bushes in the valleys and the slopes of the +hills, green with sumachs, and the gray +olive trees spreading through the valley +like a fog, and the red-tiled roof of the +house, and the campanile that looked like +"a handle of a salt cellar" among the +oranges of the garden.</p> + +<p>Here the campagna stretched away +naked, desert, speckled with dried grass, +blending silently with the distant horizon.</p> + +<p>In Spring the bean pods had begun to +fill out when Mara came to la Salonia with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span> +her father and mother and the boy and +the ass, to pick the beans, and they all +came together to sleep at the farm for two +or three days during the picking.</p> + +<p>In this way Jeli saw the girl morning +and evening, and they would sit together +on the wall of the sheep-fold and talk, +while the boy looked after the sheep.</p> + +<p>"It seems as if I were at Tebidi again," +said Mara, "when we were little things, +and used to stand on the foot bridge."</p> + +<p>Jeli also remembered everything, though +he said little, being always a judicious +youth, and of few words.</p> + +<p>When the harvest was over, and the eve +of parting had come, Mara went out to talk +with the young man, just as he was making +"ricotto cheese," and he was wholly intent +in skimming the whey with his ladle.</p> + +<p>"Now I'll say <i>addio</i>," said she, "for to-morrow +we return to Vizzini."</p> + +<p>"How have the beans gone?"</p> + +<p>"Bad! <i>la lupa</i><a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> has eaten them all this +year."</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span></p> + +<p>"It depends on the rain which has been +scarce," said Jeli. "We have had to kill +even the lambs because there hasn't been +enough feed for them. Over all of la +Salonia there hasn't been three inches of +grass."</p> + +<p>"But that doesn't affect you. You always +have your wages, good year or bad."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's so," said he. "But it disgusts +me to give those poor creatures to +the butcher."</p> + +<p>"Do you remember when you came for +the <i>festa</i> of Saint John, and were left without +a <i>padrone</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember."</p> + +<p>"It was my father who got you a place +here with <i>massaro</i> Neri."</p> + +<p>"And why didn't you marry <i>massaro</i> +Neri's son?"</p> + +<p>"Because it wasn't the will of God. My +father has been unlucky," she continued, +after a brief pause. "Since we came to +Marineo, everything has gone ill with us. +The beans, the corn, that piece of vineyard +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span> +that we have yonder. Then my brother +went off to the army, and we lost a mule +that was worth forty <i>onze</i>."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Jeli, "the bay mule."</p> + +<p>"Now, that we have lost all our property, +who would want to marry me?"</p> + +<p>Mara was breaking up a twig of briar +while she said this, with her chin in her +bosom, and, with her elbow, she gently +nudged Jeli's elbow without appearing to +mean it. But Jeli, with his eyes on the +churn, also made no response, and she +went on,—</p> + +<p>"At Tebidi they used to say that you +and I would be husband and wife, do you +remember?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jeli, and he laid his ladle on +the top of the churn. "But I am a poor +shepherd, and I can not pretend to a +<i>massaro's</i> daughter like you."</p> + +<p>La Mara remained silent for a little +while, and then she said, "If you want +me, I will willingly be yours."</p> + +<p>"Really?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, really."</p> + +<p>"And what will <i>massaro</i> Agrippino say +to it?"</p> + +<p>"My father says that now that you know +your trade, and since you are not one of +those who waste their wages, but make one +<i>soldo</i> into two, and do not eat to consume +bread, in time you will come to have flocks +of your own, and will be rich."</p> + +<p>"If that is so," said Jeli, in conclusion, +"I will gladly take you."</p> + +<p>"There," said Mara, as soon as it had +grown dark and the sheep were relapsing +into silence, "if you want a kiss, I will give +you one, because we are going to be husband +and wife."</p> + +<p>Jeli took one in "holy peace," and not +knowing what to say, added, "I have always +loved you, even when you were going to +desert me for the son of <i>massaro</i> Neri."</p> + +<p>But he had not the heart to speak of the +other one.</p> + +<p>"Don't you see? We were meant for +one another," said Mara, in conclusion. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Massaro</i> Agrippino, in fact, said "Yes," +and <i>gną</i> Lia put on a new gown, and she +had a pair of velvet trousers made for their +son-in-law. Mara was as lovely and fresh +as a rose, with her white mantellina, reminding +you of the Paschal lamb, and that +amber necklace which made her neck look +so white; so, when Jeli walked through the +street at her side, he marched stiffly and +erect, dressed in his new cloth and velvet +suit, and he did not dare even blow his +nose with his red silk handkerchief, lest he +should make a fool of himself; and the +neighbors and all who knew the story of +Don Alfonso laughed in his face.</p> + +<p>When Mara said "<i>sissignore</i>," and the +priest made her Jeli's wife with a grand +sign of the cross, Jeli took her home, and +it seemed to him as if they had given him +all the gold of the Madonna, and all the +lands that he had seen with his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Now that we are husband and wife," +said he, when they reached their house, as +he was sitting in front of her, and trying to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> +appear very humble, "now that we are +husband and wife, I may tell you that it +does not seem to me true as you pretended—you +might have had ever so many +better husbands than I—so beautiful and +gracious you are."</p> + +<p>The poor fellow could not find anything +else to say, and he could not contain his +delight to see Mara setting and arranging +everything through the house, and playing +<i>la padrona</i>. He found it impossible to tear +himself away to return to la Salonia; when +he started Monday, he was very slow in +arranging in the pack of the ass, his saddle-bags, +and his cloak, and his umbrella.</p> + +<p>"You ought to come to la Salonia, yourself," +he said to his wife, who was watching +him from the door-step. "You ought +to come with me."</p> + +<p>But the young woman began to laugh, +and replied that she was not born to look +after sheep, and had no reason to go to la +Salonia.</p> + +<p>Truly, Mara was not born for tending +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span> +sheep, and she was not accustomed to the +January tramontana wind, which stiffens +the hand on the staff, and it seems as if +your fingers would drop off, or to furious +storms that come, when the water +penetrates to your very bones, and again, +when the dust drives choking through the +streets, when the sheep travel under the +boiling sun, or to the hard bed on the +ground, and the mouldy bread, and the +long, silent, solitary days, when through +the arid fields nothing else is seen in the +distance but occasionally some sun-burned +peasant driving his ass silently along over +the white, interminable road.</p> + +<p>Jeli knew at least that Mara was warm +and comfortable under the quilts, or was +spinning in front of the fire, talking with +the women of the neighborhood, or was +enjoying the sun on the balcony, while he +was returning from the pasture tired and +thirsty, or wet through with the rain, or +when the wind drifted the snow back of +his hut and put out his fire of branches. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span></p> + +<p>Every month Mara went to receive the +wages from the <i>padrone</i>, and they lacked +neither eggs nor fowls, nor oil in the lamp, +nor wine in the jug. Twice a month Jeli +came home to see her, and she would stand +on the balcony looking for him with her +spindle in her hand, and after he had left +the ass in the stable and removed his pack +and filled the rack with oats, and placed +the wood under the shed in the yard, or +whatever he brought into the kitchen, +Mara would help him hang his cloak on +the nail and take off his leather leggings +before the hearth, and pour him out a +glass of wine, and set to work to boil the +soup and get the table ready, quiet and +thoughtful, like a good housewife, while +talking of this thing and that,—of the +brooding hen that was setting, of the cloth +that was on the loom, of the calf which +they were raising, never forgetting anything +of what she had been doing.</p> + +<p>Jeli, when he found himself at home, felt +that he was more important than the pope. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span></p> + +<p>But on the eve of Santa Barbara he +came home unexpectedly late, when all +the lights were out in the street and the +town clock was striking midnight. He +came in because the mare which the <i>padrone</i> +had left out at pasture had been suddenly +taken sick, and he saw that it was a +case that required the services of the farrier +quickly, and he had wanted to bring him to +town in spite of the rain that was falling +like a torrent, and the muddy roads into +which he sunk half up to his knees.</p> + +<p>Knock and call as loud as he might behind +the door, he had to wait half an hour +under the eaves, while the water ran out +at his heels. At last his wife came to open +for him, and began to scold worse than if +it had been herself who had been obliged +to wander across country in such a tempest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what's the matter?" she demanded. +"How you frightened me coming at this +time o' night! Does it seem to you a +proper Christian time to come? To-morrow +I shall be ill!" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span></p> + +<p>"Go back to bed, I will start up a fire."</p> + +<p>"No, I'll have to go and get some +wood."</p> + +<p>"I'll go."</p> + +<p>"No, I say."</p> + +<p>When Mara returned with the wood in +her arms Jeli said to her, "Why did you +leave the door to the yard open? Was +there not enough wood in the kitchen?"</p> + +<p>"No, I went to get it under the shed."</p> + +<p>She let him kiss her, coldly, coldly, and +turned her head in another direction.</p> + +<p>"His wife lets him wait at the door," +said the neighbors, "when there is another +bird in the nest."</p> + +<p>But Jeli knew nothing about the fact that +his wife was untrue to him, nor did any one +care to tell him, because it could surely be +of no consequence, for he had taken the +woman with a damaged reputation after +<i>massaro</i> Neri's son had jilted her, because +he knew of the story of Don Alfonso. But +Jeli seemed to live happy and contented in +the shame of it, and grew as fat as a pig; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span> +for the proverb has it "horns are lean but +they make the house fat." At last, one +time, the herdman's boy told it to him in +his face, while they were scuffling about +the pieces of cheese that had been stolen.</p> + +<p>"Now that Don Alfonso has taken your +wife you consider yourself his brother-in-law, +and you are proud enough to be a +crowned king with those horns on your +head."</p> + +<p>The factor and the keeper expected to +see blood flow for those insulting words, +but on the contrary Jeli stood stupefied, as +if he had not heard, or as if it concerned +him not, wearing the dull face of an ox +whose horns really fitted him.</p> + +<p>Now that Easter was at hand the factor +sent all the men of the estate to confession, +with the hope that through the fear of God +they would not do any more stealing. Jeli +also went, and at the church entrance +sought for the boy with whom he had exchanged +those hot words, and he threw his +arms around his neck, saying,— +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span></p> + +<p>"The confessor has bade me pardon +you; but I am not angry with you for such +gossip; and if you will not steal any more +of the cheese from me, I will not take any +further notice of what you said to me in +passion."</p> + +<p>It was from that moment that they nicknamed +him <i>Corno d'ore</i>—"Gold horns"—and +the nickname stuck to him and all his, +even after he had washed his horns in blood.</p> + +<p>La Mara also went to confession and returned +from the church all wrapped up in +her mantellina, and with her eyes cast down, +so that she seemed a genuine <i>Santa Maria +Maddelena</i>. Jeli, who was silently waiting +for her on the balcony, when he saw her +coming in that way, seeming as if she had +the Holy Presence in her heart, kept looking +at her,—pale, pale from his foot to his +head as if he saw her for the first time, or +as if his Mara had been changed for him, +and he seemed hardly to dare to lift his +eyes to her while she was shaking the cloth +and setting the table, calm and neat as ever. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span></p> + +<p>Then after long thinking he put the +question to her: "Is it true that you keep +company with Don Alfonso?"</p> + +<p>Mara looked him full in the face with +those black eyes of hers and made the sign +of the cross.</p> + +<p>"Why do you want to make me commit +a sin on this day?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"I did not believe it, because Don Alfonso +and I were always together when we +were boys, and there never passed a day +that he did not come to Tebidi when he +was in the country there; and then he is +rich, and has bushels of money, and if he +wanted women he might get married, nor +would he lack anything, either clothes to +wear, or bread to eat."</p> + +<p>But Mara was really angry, and she began +to scold so that the poor fellow did not +dare lift his nose from his plate.</p> + +<p>At last, so that that gift of God which +they were eating might not turn into poison, +Mara changed the conversation, and asked +him if he had thought of weeding that little +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> +plot of flax which they had sowed in the +bean field.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Jeli, "and the flax will do +well."</p> + +<p>"If that is so," said Mara, "this spring +I will make you two new shirts which will +keep you warm."</p> + +<p>In truth Jeli did not realize what +"cuckold" meant, and he did not know +what jealousy was. Every new thing found +difficulty in getting into his head, and this +became so great that, in making its way in, +it played devilish work, especially when he +saw his Mara before him so beautiful and +white and neat, and how she had herself +chosen him, and how he had thought about +her so many years, and so many years, ever +since he was a young boy, so that the day +when they told him that she was going to +marry some one else, he had had no heart +to eat anything or to drink all day long.</p> + +<p>Then again he thought of Don Alfonso, +who had been his companion so many +times, and how he had always brought him +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span> +strange feeling within his heart. Don Alfonso +had grown so tall that he no longer +seemed the same person, and now he had +a full beard, curly like his hair, and a velvet +coat and a gold chain across his waistcoat. +But he recognized Jeli, and patted him on +the shoulder in salutation. He had come +with the <i>padrone</i> of the estate and a number +of friends to have a jollification while +the sheep-shearing was in progress, and +Mara also came unexpectedly, under the +pretext that she was pregnant, and longed +for some fresh ricotto.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful warm day in the pale +fields, with the grain in flower and the +long green rows of the vines; the sheep +were gamboling and bleating for delight, +at feeling themselves freed from all that +weight of wool, and in the kitchen, the +women had made a great fire to cook all +the provisions that the <i>padrone</i> had brought +for the dinner.</p> + +<p>The gentlemen, while they were waiting, +had sat down in the shade under the carob-trees, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> +and were playing tambourines and +bag-pipes, and dancing with the girls of +the estate, as if they were all of the same +class.</p> + +<p>Jeli, meantime, went on with his work +shearing the sheep, and felt something +within him, without knowing what, like +a thorn, like a nail, like a pair of shears, +working within him, slowly, slowly, like a +poison.</p> + +<p>The <i>padrone</i> had ordered that they +should kill a couple of goats, and the yearling +sheep, and some chickens, and a turkey +cock. In fact, he was going to do +things on a grand scale, and lavishly, so as +to do honor to his friends; and while all +those creatures were squealing under the +death-agony, and the goats were screaming +under the knife, Jeli felt his knees tremble, +and little by little, it seemed to him that +the wool that he was shearing, and the +grass in which the sheep were leaping, +were stained with blood.</p> + +<p>"Don't go," he said to Mara, when Don +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span> +Alfonso called her to come and dance with +the rest. "Don't go, Mara."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to go. Do not go."</p> + +<p>"I hear them calling me."</p> + +<p>He uttered not another intelligible word +while he stayed with the sheep that he was +shearing. Mara shrugged her shoulders, +and went to dance. She was blushing +with delight, and her two black eyes shone +like two stars, and she smiled so that there +was a gleam of white teeth, and all the gold +ornaments tossed and scintillated on her +wrists and on her bosom, so that she +seemed like the Madonna herself.</p> + +<p>Jeli had arisen to his full height, with +the long shears in his hand, and white in +face, as white as once he had seen his +father, the cowherd, when he was trembling +with fever in front of the fire in the hovel.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, when he saw how Don Alfonso, +with his curling beard and his velvet coat, +and the gold chain at his waistcoat, took +Mara by the hand to dance—then—only +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span> +at that moment that he touched her did he +fling himself on him and cut his throat +with one stroke, as if he had been a goat.</p> + +<p>Later, while they were leading him off +to the judge, bound, wholly unmanned, without +daring to make the least resistance,—</p> + +<p>"How," said he, "should I not have +killed him. He robbed me of my Mara!"</p> + +<h2 class="p6">RUSTIC CHIVALRY.</h2> + +<p class="center b1">(<i>Cavalleria Rusticana.</i>)</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="lola" id="lola"></a> +<img src="images/illus125.jpg" width="413" height="650" alt="LOLA" /> +<p class="caption">"LOLA USED TO GO OUT ON THE BALCONY +WITH HER HANDS CROSSED."</p> + +</div> + +<p class="center p6"><span class="b1">RUSTIC CHIVALRY.<br /> +(<i>Cavalleria Rusticana.</i>)</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span></p> + +<p class="p2"><span class="dropcap">T</span>uriddu Macca, <i>gną</i> Nunzia's +son, after returning from the army, +used every Sunday to strut like a peacock +through the square in his bersegliere uniform +and red cap, looking like the fortune-teller +as he sets up his stand with his cage +of canaries. The girls on their way to +Mass gave stolen glances at him from behind +their mantellinas, and the urchins +buzzed round him like flies.</p> + +<p>He had brought back with him, also, a +pipe with the king on horseback carved so +naturally that it seemed actually alive, and +he scratched his matches on the seat of his +trousers, lifting his leg as if he were going +to give a kick.</p> + +<p>But in spite of all this, Lola, the daughter +of <i>massaro</i> Angelo, had not shown herself +either at Mass or on the balcony, for the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> +reason that she was going to wed a man +from Licodia, a carter who had four Sortino +mules in his stable.</p> + +<p>At first, when Turiddu heard about it, +<i>santo diavolone!</i> he threatened to disembowel +him, threatened to kill him—that +fellow from Licodia! But he did nothing +of the sort; he contented himself with +going under the fair one's window, and +singing all the spiteful songs he knew.</p> + +<p>"Has <i>gną</i> Nunzia's Turiddu nothing else +to do," asked the neighbors, "except spending +his nights singing like a lone sparrow?"</p> + +<p>At length, he met Lola on her way back +from the pilgrimage to the Madonna del +Pericolo, and when she saw him, she turned +neither red nor white, just as if it were +none of her affair at all.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>compare</i> Turiddu, I was told that +you returned the first of the month."</p> + +<p>"But I have been told of something quite +different!" replied the other. "Is it true +that you are to marry <i>compare</i> Alfio, the +carter?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span></p> + +<p>"Such is God's will," replied Lola, drawing +the two ends of her handkerchief under +her chin.</p> + +<p>"God's will in your case is done with +a snap and a spring; to suit yourself! +And it was God's will, was it, that I should +return from so far to find this fine state of +things, <i>gną</i> Lola!"</p> + +<p>The poor fellow still tried to bluster, but +his voice grew hoarse, and he followed the +girl, tossing his head so that the tassel of +his cap swung from side to side on his +shoulders. To tell the truth, she felt really +sorry to see him wearing such a long face, +but she had not the heart to deceive him +with fine speeches.</p> + +<p>"Listen, <i>compare</i> Turiddu," she said to +him at last, "Let me join my friends. +What would be said in town if I were seen +with you?"</p> + +<p>"You are right," replied Turiddu, "Now +that you are going to marry <i>compare</i> Alfio, +who has four mules in his stable, it is best +not to let people's tongues wag about you. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> +But my mother, poor soul, was obliged to +sell our bay mule, and that little plot of +vineyard on the highway while I was off in +the army. The time 'when Berta spun,' is +over and gone, and you no longer think of +the time when we used to talk together +from the window looking into the yard, and +you gave me that handkerchief before I +went away, and God knows how many +tears I shed into it at going so far that +even the name of our place is lost! So +good-by, <i>gną</i> Lola,—Let's pretend it's +rained and cleared off, and our friendship +is ended."<a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></p> + +<p><i>Gną</i> Lola married the carter, and on +Sundays used to go out on the balcony +with her hands crossed on her stomach, to +show off all the heavy gold rings that her +husband gave to her. Turiddu kept up his +habit of going back and forth through the +street with his pipe in his mouth, his hands +in his pockets, and an air of unconcern, and +ogling the girls; but it gnawed his heart +that Lola's husband had so much money, +and that she pretended not to see him when +he passed. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll get even with her, under her very +eyes; the vile beast," he muttered.</p> + +<p>Opposite <i>compare</i> Alfio lived <i>massaro</i> +Cola, the vinedresser, who was as rich as +a pig, and had one daughter at home. +Turiddu said and did all he could to +become <i>massaro</i> Cola's workman, and he +began to frequent the house, and make +sweet speeches to the girl.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you go and say sweet things +to <i>gną</i> Lola?" asked Santa.</p> + +<p>"<i>Gną</i> Lola is a fine lady. <i>Gną</i> Lola +has married a crowned king now!"</p> + +<p>"I don't deserve crowned kings!"</p> + +<p>"You are worth a hundred Lolas, and +I know some one who wouldn't look at <i>la +gną</i> Lola or her saint when you are by, for +<i>gną</i> Lola isn't worthy to wear your shoes, +no, she isn't!"</p> + +<p>"The fox when he couldn't get at the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> +grapes said, 'How beautiful you are, <i>racinedda +mia</i>,' my little grape!"</p> + +<p>"Ohč! hands off, <i>compare</i> Turiddu!"</p> + +<p>"Are you afraid that I will eat you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not afraid of you or of your +God."</p> + +<p>"Eh! your mother was from Licodia, +we all know that! You have quarrelsome +blood. Uh! How I could eat you with +my eyes!"</p> + +<p>"Eat me then with your eyes, for we +should not have a crumb left, but meantime +help me up with this bundle."</p> + +<p>"I would lift up the whole house for you, +yes, I would!"</p> + +<p>She, so as not to blush, threw at him a +stick of wood which was within reach, and +by a miracle didn't hit him.</p> + +<p>"Let's have done, for chattering never +picked grapes."</p> + +<p>"If I were rich I should try to get a wife +like you, <i>gną</i> Santa."</p> + +<p>"I shall never marry a crowned king like +<i>gną</i> Lola, but I have my dowry as well as +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> +she, whenever the Lord shall send me anyone."</p> + +<p>"We know you are rich, we know it."</p> + +<p>"If you know it, say no more, for father +is coming, and I shouldn't like to have him +find me in the court-yard."</p> + +<p>The old father began to turn up his nose, +but the girl pretended not to notice it, because +the tassel of the bersegliere's cap had +set her heart to fluttering, and was constantly +dancing before her eyes. When +the <i>babbo</i> put Turiddu out of the house, his +daughter opened the window for him, and +stood chatting with him all the evening +long, so that the whole neighborhood talked +of nothing else.</p> + +<p>"I'm madly in love with you," said Turiddu, +"and I am losing my sleep and my +appetite."</p> + +<p>"How absurd!"</p> + +<p>"I wish I were Victor Emmanuel's son, +so as to marry you."</p> + +<p>"How absurd!"</p> + +<p>"By the Madonna, I would eat you like +bread!" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span></p> + +<p>"How absurd!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! on my honor!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! <i>mamma mia!</i>"</p> + +<p>Lola, who was listening every evening, +hidden behind the vase of basil, and turning +red and white, one day called Turiddu:—</p> + +<p>"And so, <i>compare</i> Turiddu, old friends +don't speak to each other any more?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Ma!</i>" sighed the young man, "blessed +is he who can speak to you."</p> + +<p>"If you have any desire to speak to me, +you know where I live," replied Lola.</p> + +<p>Turiddu went to see her so frequently +that Santa noticed it, and shut the window +in his face. The neighbors looked at him +with a smile or with a shake of the head +when the bersegliere passed. Lola's husband +was making a round of the fairs with +his mules.</p> + +<p>"Sunday I am going to confession, for +last night I dreamed of black grapes," said +Lola.</p> + +<p>"Put it off, put it off" begged Turiddu.</p> + +<p>"No, Easter is coming, and my husband +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> +will want to know why I haven't been to +confession."</p> + +<p>"Ah," murmured <i>massaro</i> Cola's Santa, +as she was waiting on her knees before the +confessional for her turn, while Lola was +making a clean breast of her sins. "On +my soul, I will not send you to Rome for +your punishment!"</p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Alfio came home with his +mules; he was loaded with money, and he +brought to his wife for a present, a handsome +new dress for the holidays.</p> + +<p>"You are right to bring her gifts," said +his neighbor Santa, "because while you are +away your wife adorns your house for you."</p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Alfio was one of those carters +who wear their hats over one ear, and when +he heard his wife spoken of in such a way +he changed color as if he had been knifed.</p> + +<p>"<i>Santo diavolone!</i>" he exclaimed, "if +you haven't seen aright, I will not leave +you eyes to weep with, you or your whole +family."</p> + +<p>"I am not used to weeping!" replied +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> +Santa, "I did not weep even when I saw +with these eyes <i>gną</i> Nunzia's Turiddu going +into your wife's house at night!"</p> + +<p>"It is well," replied <i>compare</i> Alfio, +"many thanks!"</p> + +<p>Turiddu, now that the cat was at home, +no longer went out on the street by day, +and he whiled away the tedium at the inn +with his friends; and on Easter eve they +had on the table a dish of sausages.</p> + +<p>When <i>compare</i> Alfio came in, Turiddu +realized, merely by the way in which he +fixed his eyes on him, that he had come to +settle that affair, and he laid his fork on the +plate.</p> + +<p>"Have you any commands for me, <i>compare</i> +Alfio?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No favors to ask, <i>compare</i> Turiddu; +it's some time since I have seen you, and +I wanted to speak concerning something +you know about."</p> + +<p>Turiddu at first had offered him a glass, +but <i>compare</i> Alfio refused it with a wave of +his hand. Then Turiddu got up and said +to him,— +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here I am, <i>compare</i> Alfio."</p> + +<p>The carter threw his arms around his +neck.</p> + +<p>"If to-morrow morning you will come to +the prickly pears of la Canziria, we can +talk that matter over, <i>compare</i>."</p> + +<p>"Wait for me on the street at daybreak, +and we will go together."</p> + +<p>With these words they exchanged the +kiss of defiance. Turiddu bit the carter's +ear, and thus made the solemn oath not to +fail him.</p> + +<p>The friends had silently left the sausages, +and accompanied Turiddu to his +home. <i>Gną</i> Nunzia, poor creature, waited +for him till late every evening.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," said Turiddu, "do you remember +when I went as a soldier, that you +thought I should never come back any +more? Give me a good kiss as you did +then, for to-morrow morning I am going +far away."</p> + +<p>Before daybreak he got his spring-knife, +which he had hidden under the hay, when +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span> +he had gone to serve his time in the army, +and started for the prickly-pear trees of la +Canziria.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gesummaria! where are you going +in such haste!" cried Lola in great apprehension, +while her husband was getting +ready to go out.</p> + +<p>"I am not going far," replied <i>compare</i> +Alfio. "But it would be better for you if +I never came back."</p> + +<p>Lola in her nightdress was praying at the +foot of the bed, and pressing to her lips +the rosary which Fra Bernardino had +brought to her from the Holy places, and +reciting all the Ave Marias that she could +say.</p> + +<p>"<i>Compare</i> Alfio," began Turiddu, after he +had gone a little distance by the side of +his companion, who walked in silence with +his cap down over his eyes, "as God is +true I know that I have done wrong, and I +should let myself be killed. But before I +came out, I saw my old mother, who got +up to see me off, under the pretence of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> +tending the hens. Her heart had a presentiment, +and as the Lord is true, I will +kill you like a dog, so that my poor old +mother may not weep."</p> + +<p>"All right," replied <i>compare</i> Alfio, stripping +off his waistcoat. "Then we will +both of us hit hard."</p> + +<p>Both of them were skilful fencers. Turiddu +was first struck, and was quick +enough to receive it in the arm. When +he returned it, he returned it well, and +wounded the other in the groin.</p> + +<p>"Ah, <i>compare</i> Turiddu! so you really +intend to kill me, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I gave you fair warning; since I +saw my old mother in the hen-yard, it +seems to me I have her all the time before +my eyes."</p> + +<p>"Keep them well open, those eyes of +yours," cried <i>compare</i> Alfio, "for I am going +to give you back good measure."</p> + +<p>As he stood on guard, all doubled up, so +as to keep his left hand on his wound, +which pained him, and almost trailing his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span> +elbow on the ground, he swiftly picked up +a handful of dust, and flung it into his adversary's +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" screamed Turiddu, blinded, "I +am dead."</p> + +<p>He tried to save himself, by making desperate +leaps backwards, but <i>compare</i> Alfio +overtook him with another thrust in the +stomach, and a third in the throat.</p> + +<p>"And that makes three! that is for the +house which you have adorned for me! +Now your mother will let the hens alone."</p> + +<p>Turiddu staggered a short distance +among the prickly pears, and then fell like +a stone. The blood foaming, gurgled in +his throat, and he could not even cry, +"<i>Ah! mamma mia!</i>"</p> + +<p class="p6 center"><span class="b1">LA LUPA.</span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span></p> + +<p class="p2"><span class="dropcap">S</span>he was tall and lean; but she had a +firm, full bust, and yet she was no +longer young; her complexion was brunette, +but pallid as if she had always suffered +from malaria, and this pallor set forth +two big eyes and fresh rosy lips that seemed +to eat you.</p> + +<p>In the village she was called <i>la Lupa</i>—the +She-Wolf—because she was never +satisfied. Women made the sign of the +cross when they saw her pass, always alone +like a big ugly hound, with the vagabond +and suspicious gait of a famished wolf; she +would bewitch their sons and their husbands +in the twinkling of an eye with her +red lips and she made them fall in love +with her merely by looking at them out of +those big Satanic eyes of hers, even if they +were before Santa Agrippina's altar. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span></p> + +<p>Fortunately <i>la Lupa</i> never came to +church at Easter or at Christmas, nor to +hear Mass or to make confession. <i>Padre</i> +Angiolino of Santa Maria di Gesł, a true +servant of God, had lost his soul on her +account.</p> + +<p>Maricchia,—poor girl, pretty and clever +she was,—secretly wept because she was +<i>la Lupa's</i> daughter, and no one had offered +to marry her though she had nice clothes +in her bureau, and her own little piece of +land in the sun, like every other girl of the +village.</p> + +<p>One time <i>la Lupa</i> fell in love with a +handsome youth who had just served out +his time in the army, and had come home +and was helping to reap the notary's harvest +with her; for surely it means to be in +love when she felt the flesh burn under the +fustian shift, and on looking at him to experience +the thirst that one has in hot June +days down in the low-lands.</p> + +<p>But he went on with his work, undisturbed, +with his nose on his sheaves, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> +he said to her, "Oh, what's the matter, +<i>gną</i> Pina?"</p> + +<p>In the immense fields where the only +sound was the rustle of the grasshoppers +flying up, while the sun was pouring down +his hottest beams perpendicularly, <i>la Lupa</i> +was heaping up sheaf on sheaf, and pile on +pile, without ever showing any signs of +fatigue, without one moment straightening +herself up, without once touching her lips +to the water jug, so as to stick close to +Nanni's heels as he reaped and reaped; +and now and again he would ask,—</p> + +<p>"What do you want, <i>gną</i> Pina?"</p> + +<p>One evening she told him, it was while +the men were sleeping in the threshing-floor, +weary of the long day's work and the +dogs were howling through the vast black +campagna,—</p> + +<p>"I want you! you are as handsome as the +sun and as sweet as honey; I want you!"</p> + +<p>"But I want your daughter—I want the +young calf," said Nanni, laughing at his +own joke. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span></p> + +<p><i>La Lupa</i> thrust her hands into the masses +of her hair, scratching her temples, without +saying a word, and went off and was not +seen again in the harvest field. But the +following October she saw Nanni again at +the time when they were pressing the oil, +because he worked near her house, and the +rattle of the press kept her awake all night.</p> + +<p>"Take a bag of olives," she said to her +daughter, "and come with me."</p> + +<p>Nanni was shoveling the olives into the +hopper and shouting "Ohi" to the mule to +keep it going.</p> + +<p>"Do you want my daughter Maricchia?" +demanded <i>gną</i> Pina.</p> + +<p>"What dowry will you give with your +daughter Maricchia?" replied Nanni.</p> + +<p>"She has her father's things, and besides +I will give her my house; it will be +enough for me if you'll let me have a corner +in the kitchen to spread out a mattress +in."</p> + +<p>"If that is so, we can talk about it at +Christmas," said Nanni. Nanni was all +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span> +grease and dirt from the olives put to fermenting, +and Maricchia would not have +him on any account; but her mother +grabbed her by the hair as they stood in +front of the hearth and hissed through her +set teeth,—</p> + +<p>"If you don't take him, I'll kill you."</p> + +<p><i>La Lupa</i> looked ill, and the people remarked: +"When the devil was old the +devil a monk would be." She no longer +went wandering about; she stood no more +at her doorway looking out with those eyes +as of one possessed.</p> + +<p>Her son-in-law, when she fixed those eyes +on his face, always began to laugh, and +would pull out his cloth talisman, with its +effigy of the Madonna, to cross himself with.</p> + +<p>Maricchia stayed at home to nurse her +children, and her mother went out to work in +the fields with the men, just like a man,—to +weed, to dig, to guide the animals, to +dress the vines, whether it were during the +Greek-Levant winds<a name="FNanchor_13" id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> of January, or during +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span> +the August sirocco, when mules let their +heads droop, and men sleep prone on their +bellies under the shadow of the North wall.</p> + +<p>In that time between vespers and nones, +when, according to the saying, no good +woman is seen going about, <i>gną</i> Pina was +the only living creature to be seen wandering +across the campagna, over the fiery hot +stones of the narrow streets, among the +parched stubble of the wide, wide fields +that stretched away into the burning haze +toward cloudy Etna, where the sky hangs +heavy on the horizon.</p> + +<p>"Wake up!" said <i>la Lupa</i> to Nanni, who +was asleep in the ditch next the dusty +harvest-field, with his head on his arms. +"Wake up, for I've brought you some wine +to cool your throat."</p> + +<p>Nanni opened his eyes, half awake, and +saw her sitting up straight and pale before +him, with her swelling breast, and her eyes +as black as coal, and drew back waving his +arms,—</p> + +<p>"No! a good woman does not go about +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> +between vespers and nones," groaned +Nanni, thrusting his face in amongst the +dried weeds of the ditch as far as he could, +and putting his fingers into his hair. "Go +away! Get you gone! And don't you +come to the threshing-floor any more."</p> + +<p>She turned and went away,—<i>la Lupa</i>,—knotting +up her splendid tresses again, +looking down steadily as she made her way +among the hot stubble, with her eyes black +as coal.</p> + +<p>But she did go back to the threshing-floor, +and Nanni no longer reproached her; +and when she failed to come, in that hour +between vespers and nones, he went, and +with perspiration on his brow, waited for +her at the top of the white deserted footpath, +but afterwards he would thrust his +hands through his hair, and every time he +would say, "Go away! Go away! Don't +come to the threshing-floor again."</p> + +<p>Maricchia wept night and day, and she +looked into her mother's face with eyes +blazing with tears and jealousy, like a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> +<i>lupachiotta</i>, +a young wolf herself, every time +that she saw her coming back from the +fields, silent and pale.</p> + +<p>"Vile! <i>scellerata!</i>" she would say, "Vile +mamma."</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue!"</p> + +<p>"Thief! thief!"</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue!"</p> + +<p>"I'll go to the <i>brigadiere</i>!"<a name="FNanchor_14" id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a></p> + +<p>And she actually went with her infants +in her arms, without a sign of fear, and +without shedding a tear, like a crazy +woman, because now she passionately +loved that husband whom she had been +forced to marry, greasy and dirty as he +was from the olives set to fermenting.</p> + +<p>The <i>brigadiere</i> summoned Nanni, and +threatened him with the galleys and the +gallows. Nanni began to weep, and pull +his hair; he denied nothing, did not try to +justify himself.</p> + +<p>"The temptation was too much," said +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> +he, "'twas the temptation of hell." He +flung himself at the <i>brigadiere's</i> feet, begging +him to send him to the galleys.</p> + +<p>"For mercy's sake, <i>Signor brigadiere</i>, take +me out of this hell! Have me shot! Send +me to prison! Don't let me see her ever +again! never again!"</p> + +<p>"No," replied <i>la Lupa</i>, to the <i>brigadiere's</i> +question. "I kept a corner of the +kitchen to sleep in when I gave him my +house as my daughter's dowry. The house +is mine. I do not intend to go away."</p> + +<p>Shortly after, Nanni was kicked in the +chest by a mule, and was like to die; but the +priest refused to bring him the Holy Unction +unless <i>la Lupa</i> was out of the house.</p> + +<p><i>La Lupa</i> went away, and her son-in-law +was then permitted to pass away like a +good Christian; he confessed and partook +of the Sacrament with such signs of penitence +and contrition that all the neighbors +and inquisitive visitors wept as they surrounded +the dying man's bed.</p> + +<p>And it would have been better for him +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span> +if he had died then and there, before the +devil had a chance to return to tempt him, +and take possession of him, mind and body, +when he got well again.</p> + +<p>"Let me be!" he said to <i>la Lupa</i>; "for +mercy's sake, leave me in peace! I have +seen death with my own eyes! Poor +Maricchia is in despair. Now the whole +region knows about it! If I don't see +you, it's better for you and better for me."</p> + +<p>And he would rather have put his eyes +out, than see <i>la Lupa's</i>, for when hers were +fastened on him, they made him lose soul +and body. He did not know what to do to +overcome the enchantment. He paid for +Masses to be sung for the souls in Purgatory, +and he went for aid to the priest and +the <i>brigadiere</i>. At Easter he went to confession, +and as a penance, publicly stood +on the flint stones of the holy ground in +front of the church, putting out six handbreadths +of tongue, and then, when <i>la Lupa</i> +returned to tempt him,—</p> + +<p>"See here," said he, "don't you come on +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> +the threshing-floor again, because if you +do come to seek me again, as sure as God +exists, I'll kill you."</p> + +<p>"All right, kill me!" replied <i>la Lupa</i>. +"It makes no difference to me; but I +can not live without you."</p> + +<p>When he saw her afar off coming +through the green corn field, he left off +pruning the vines, and went and got his +axe from the elm.</p> + +<p><i>La Lupa</i> saw him coming to meet her, +with his face pale and his eyes rolling +wildly, with the axe shining in the sun; but +she did not hesitate an instant, did not +look away. She went straight forward +with her hands full of bunches of red poppies, +and devouring him with those black +eyes of hers.</p> + +<p>"Ah! a curse on your soul!" stammered +Nanni.</p> + +<h2 class="p6">THE STORY OF THE ST. JOSEPH'S<br /> +ASS.</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="joseph" id="joseph"></a> +<img src="images/illus181.jpg" width="422" height="650" alt="THE DEATH OF THE ST. JOSEPH'S ASS." /> +<p class="caption">THE DEATH OF THE ST. JOSEPH'S ASS.</p> +</div> + +<p class="center p6"><span class="b1">THE STORY OF THE ST. JOSEPH'S<br /> +ASS.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span></p> + +<p class="p2"><span class="dropcap">T</span>hey had bought it at the Fair of +Buccheri when it was still a young +colt, and if it caught sight of a she ass, it +would run to it and try to nurse; for this +reason, it had got blows and kicks on its +rump, and it was all in vain for them to +shout "<i>arricca</i>"—get up—to it.</p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Neli, when he saw how lively +and obstinate it was, and how it licked its +nostrils when the blows fell, and how it +kept wagging its ears, said,—</p> + +<p>"That's the one for me."</p> + +<p>And he went straight up to the proprietor, +with his hand in his pocket on +thirty-five <i>lire</i>.</p> + +<p>"The colt is handsome," said the proprietor, +"and is worth more than thirty-five +<i>lire</i>. No matter if it has a white and black +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> +skin like a magpie. There, I'll show you +its mother; we keep her over yonder in +that little grove, because the colt's all the +time wanting to nurse. You shall see +what a pretty dark hide it's got! Why, +she does more work for me than a mule +would, and has given me more colts than +she has hairs on her back. My conscience! +I don't know where this colt got +its magpie coat. But it is well built, I tell +you. Even men aren't judged by their +moustaches. Look, what a chest! and +what thick, solid legs! See how it holds +its ears. An ass that holds its ears up like +that can be put in a cart or to a plow as +you please, and it will carry four bushels of +corn better than a mule, I swear it will—by +all the saints. Just feel that tail—strong +enough to hold up you and all your +kith and kin."</p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Neli knew that as well as the +other, but he wasn't dunce enough to say +so, and he stood with his hand in his +pocket, shrugging his shoulders and making +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> +grimaces while the proprietor of the +colt made it turn round before them.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" grunted <i>compare</i> Neli, "with a +skin like that, it looks like Saint Joseph's +ass. Animals of that color are always +<i>vigliacche</i>,<a name="FNanchor_15" id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> and when you ride them about, +people laugh in your face. Am I going to +be made a laughing stock for a Saint +Joseph's ass?"</p> + +<p>It was the <i>padrone's</i> turn to turn his +back on him in a passion, screaming that +some people didn't know a good animal +when they saw one, and if they hadn't any +money to buy with, they'd better not come +to the fair, and waste good Christian's +time—on a saint's day, too.</p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Neli let him fume away, and he +went off with his brother, who pulled the +sleeve of his jacket, and whispered in his +ear, that if he was going to throw away his +money on that good-for-nothing animal he +would deserve to be kicked.</p> + +<p>While the <i>padrone</i> pretended to be shelling +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> +some young beans, holding the halter +between his legs, <i>compare</i> Neli, not really +losing sight of the Saint Joseph's ass, went +off on a tour of inspection among the mules +and horses, now and again stopping to +criticise or even haggle over the price of +this one or of that among the better animals; +but he did not open his hand, which +still clasped safely in his pocket the thirty-five +<i>lire</i> as if it were going to buy half the +fair. But his brother kept telling him in a +whisper, pointing to the ass, which they +called Saint Joseph's,—</p> + +<p>"That's the one for us."</p> + +<p>The ass's mistress, every once in a while, +came over to her husband to see how business +was progressing, and when she saw +him sitting with the halter in his hand, she +said,—</p> + +<p>"Isn't the Madonna going to send a +purchaser for the foal, to-day?"</p> + +<p>And the husband would always reply in +these terms,—</p> + +<p>"None yet! One's been here bargaining, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span> +and he liked it. But he objected to +the price, and went off again with the +money in his pocket. There he is, over +yonder with the white cap, beyond that +flock of sheep. He hasn't bought anything +yet; that means, he'll be back +again."</p> + +<p>The woman was about to squat down on +a couple of stones near her foal, to see +whether it would be sold or not. But her +husband said to her,—</p> + +<p>"Off with you. If they see you are +waiting, they won't finish the bargain."</p> + +<p>Meantime the foal was nosing about +between the legs of several she-asses that +were passing by. It wanted to nurse, for +it was half starved. It was just opening +its mouth to bray when the <i>padrone</i> reduced +it to silence by a shower of blows +because they had not wanted it.</p> + +<p>"It's still there," said <i>compare</i> Neli in +his brother's ear, pretending to turn round +and look for something. "If we wait till +the Ave Maria, we may be able to get it for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> +five <i>lire</i> cheaper than the price that we +offered."</p> + +<p>The May sunshine was warm so that +gradually amid all the noise and bustle of +the fair a great silence followed throughout +the whole field, as if no one were there: +then it was that the mistress of the young +ass came to her husband again and said:</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't hold out for five <i>lire</i> more +or less, for to-night we have not enough to +buy our supper and you know well that the +foal will eat his head off in a month if he +remains on our hands."</p> + +<p>"If you don't go off," replied her husband, +"I'll give you a kick that you'll +remember."</p> + +<p class="p2">Thus passed the hours at the fair; but +of all those who passed in front of the +Saint Joseph's ass not one stopped to look +at it, and that, too, though the <i>padrone</i> had +chosen the most humble place near the +animals of small value, so that with its +magpie skin it might not be compared +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> +with the beautiful bay mules and the sleek +horses! Some one like <i>compare</i> Neli was +wanted to buy his Saint Joseph's ass, at +the sight of which every one at the fair +was laughing.</p> + +<p>The colt, after such a long waiting in +the sun, let his head and ears hang down; +his <i>padrone</i> went and squatted on the +stones, with his hands also hanging between +his knees and the halter in his +hands, gazing at the long shadows that +began to be cast across the plain from +the sun, which was preparing to set, and +at the legs of all those animals that had +not as yet found purchasers.</p> + +<p>Just then <i>compare</i> Neli and his brother, +and a friend of theirs whom they had +picked up for the occasion, came sauntering +by, with their noses in the air; but the +owner of the young ass turned his head +aside so as not to seem to be on the look +out for them. And <i>compare</i> Neli's friend, +squinting up his eyes, remarked as if the +idea had just occurred to him: +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span></p> + +<p>"O, see that Saint Joseph's ass! Why +don't you buy that one, <i>compare</i> Neli?"</p> + +<p>"I bargained it this morning; but he +asks too much for it. Besides, I should be +the laughing stock of the town if I were +seen with that black and white beast. +You see no one has had a thought of +buying it so far."</p> + +<p>"That's so, but the color makes no +difference in the use that you make of +one."</p> + +<p>And turning to the <i>padrone</i> he asked,—</p> + +<p>"How much must we pay for that Saint +Joseph's ass of yours?"</p> + +<p>The mistress of the Saint Joseph's ass, +seeing that the business was on once more, +had quietly approached, with her hands +clasped under her apron.</p> + +<p>"Don't speak to me of it," cried <i>compare</i> +Neli making off across the field. "Don't +speak of it again, I don't want to hear a +word."</p> + +<p>"If you don't want it, let it be," replied +the <i>padrone</i>. "If he does not take it, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> +some one else will. 'A sad wretch is he +who has nothing left to sell after the fair.'"</p> + +<p>"And I will be heard, <i>santo diavolone</i>!" +screamed the friend. "Can't I be permitted +to have my say?"</p> + +<p>And he ran and caught <i>compare</i> Neli by +the jacket, then he came back and whispered +something in the <i>padrone's</i> ear as the +man was about to return home with his +young ass, and he flung his arm round his +neck, murmuring,—</p> + +<p>"Look here! five <i>lire</i> more or less, and +if you don't sell it to-day you won't find +another blunderhead like my <i>compare</i> to +buy a beast, which between you and me, +isn't worth a cigar!"</p> + +<p>He also embraced the young ass's mistress, +whispered in her ear to win her to his +way of thinking. But she shrugged her +shoulders and replied with stern face,—</p> + +<p>"'Tis my husband's business: I don't +mix myself in it. But if he lets it go for +less than forty <i>lire</i> he is a dunce, and that's +what I say. It cost us more than that." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span></p> + +<p>"This morning I was crazy when I offered +him thirty-five <i>lire</i>," resumed <i>compare</i> +Neli. "Has he found any other purchaser +even at that price? I reckon not. In the +whole fair there aren't more than four +scabby rams and the Saint Joseph's ass. +I'll give thirty <i>lire</i> if he'll take it."</p> + +<p>"Take it," softly whispered the young +ass's mistress to her husband, and the tears +came into her eyes. "We haven't made +enough this evening to buy our supper, and +Turiddu has the fever again; he'll have to +have quinine."</p> + +<p>"<i>Santo diavolone!</i>" screamed her husband, +"if you don't get away from here I'll +give you a taste of this halter."</p> + +<p>"Thirty-two and a half, there now!" +cried the friend at last, giving him a powerful +shake to the collar.</p> + +<p>"Neither you nor I! This time my advice +ought to hold, by all the saints in paradise! +and I don't even ask for a glass of +wine. Don't you see the sun is set? What +is the use of you both holding out any +longer?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span></p> + +<p>And he snatched the halter from the <i>padrone's</i> +hand, while, at the same time, <i>compare</i> +Neli with an oath took out of his pocket his +closed fist clutching the thirty-five <i>lire</i>, and +gave them to the man without looking at +them as if they took his liver with them. +The friend retired to one side with the mistress +of the young ass to count over the +money on a rock, while the <i>padrone</i> went +off to another part of the fair like a colt, +cursing and beating himself with his fists.</p> + +<p>But when he was at last rejoined by his +wife, who was carefully recounting the +money in her handkerchief, he demanded,—</p> + +<p>"Have you got it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the whole of it; praised be San +Gaetano!<a name="FNanchor_16" id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> Now I'll go to the apothecary's."</p> + +<p>"I got the best of them! I'd have let +them have the beast for twenty <i>lire</i>; asses +of that color are <i>vigliacchi</i>—vile."</p> + +<p>And <i>compare</i> Neli, as he got behind the +ass to drive it off, said,— +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span></p> + +<p>"As God exists I robbed him of the colt! +The color makes no difference. See what +solid legs, <i>compare</i>! That beast is worth +forty <i>lire</i> with one's eyes shut."</p> + +<p>"If it had not been for me," returned +the friend, "you would not have struck the +bargain. Here are still two <i>lire</i> and a half +of your money. And if you don't object +we will go and have a drink to the health +of the ass!"</p> + +<p>Now the colt needed to have its health +in order to repay the thirty-two and a half +<i>lire</i> which had been paid for it, and the +straw which it ate. Meanwhile it was contented +to frisk behind <i>compare</i> Neli, trying +to bite his new <i>padrone's</i> coat tails, and making +no ado because it was leaving forever +the stall where it had been sheltered by its +mother's side, free to rub its nose on the +edge of the manger, or to gambol and cut +up capers, butting with the ram or going to +rub the pig's back in its pen.</p> + +<p>And the <i>padrone</i>, who was still again +counting over the money in her handkerchief +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span> +before the apothecary's counter, had +on her side no regrets, although she had +assisted at the birth of the foal with its +black and white skin, as shiny as silk, and +which could not at first stand up on its +legs, but lay in the warm sun in the court-yard +while all the grass which had made it +grow so big and strong had passed through +her hands!</p> + +<p>The only person who missed the foal was +its mother, who stretched out her neck +toward the entrance of the stall and brayed. +But when her udder was no longer painfully +distended with the milk, she also forgot +about the foal.</p> + +<p>"Now you will see," said <i>compare</i> Neli, +"that this ass will carry four bushels of +corn better than a mule, for me."</p> + +<p>And at harvest time he was set to +threshing.</p> + +<p>At the threshing, the colt, fastened by +the neck, in a row with other animals—worn +out mules, decrepit horses, paced +over the sheaves, from morning till night, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> +so that when it was brought back to the +stable, he was so tired that he had no +desire to bite at the heap of straw where +they put him up in the shade when the +wind blew, while the peasants did their +winnowing with shouts of "<i>Viva Maria!</i>"</p> + +<p>Then he let his nose hang down and +drooped his pendent ears, like a full-fledged +ass with eyes dulled, as if he were weary of +gazing across over that vast plain, smoking +here and there with the dust of the threshing-floors, +and he seemed made for nothing +else than to die of thirst and enforced +treading on sheaves.</p> + +<p>At eventide, it was sent to the village +with the saddle-bags filled full, and the +<i>padrone's</i> boy followed, to prick it in the +withers, along the hedges lining the road, +that seemed alive with the chattering of +the tomtits, and the odor of the catnip and +rosemary; and the ass would gladly have +snatched a mouthful, if they had not +always kept it on the go, until at last, the +blood ran to its legs and they had to take +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span> +it to the farrier; but this did not trouble +the <i>padrone</i>, because the harvest was good, +and the young ass had earned its cost,—his +thirty-two <i>lire</i> and a half. The <i>padrone</i> +said,—</p> + +<p>"Now, the work has worn him out, but +if I could sell him for twenty <i>lire</i>, I should +still have made a good thing out of him."</p> + +<p>The only person who had a fondness for +the young ass was the boy who made it +trot over the road on the way from the +threshing-floor. And he felt badly when +the farrier burnt its legs with red-hot +irons, so that the young ass squirmed and +flung its tail into the air, and pricked up +its ears, and when it ran across the field of +the fair, and it tried to break loose from the +twisted rope which they fastened to its lip, +and it rolled its eyes with the agony, as if +it were undergoing torture, when the farrier's +apprentice came to change the hot +irons, red as fire, and the skin smoked and +sizzled, like fish in a frying-pan. But +<i>compare</i> Neli cried to his boy,— +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span></p> + +<p>"You beast! what are you weeping +for? Now that he is played out, and +since the harvest has been a good one, +we'll sell him and buy a mule, and that +will be better."</p> + +<p>Boys do not understand some things, +and after the young ass was sold to <i>massaro</i> +Cirino, of Licodiana, <i>compare</i> Neli's +son used to visit it in the stall, and to +caress its face and neck, and the ass would +turn round its head, and snuff as if it had +become attached to him, while, as a general +thing, asses are made to be tied wherever +their <i>padrone</i> may see fit to tie them, and +change their lot as they change their stall.</p> + +<p><i>Massaro</i> Cirino, of Licodiana, had paid +a very small price for the Saint Joseph's +ass, because it still bore the scars on its +pastern, and <i>compare</i> Neli's wife, when she +saw the poor beast go by with its new +master, said,—</p> + +<p>"That beast was our mascot. That +black and white skin brought joy to the +threshing-floor, and now the profits are +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> +going from bad to worse, for we have had +to sell the mule, too."</p> + +<p class="p2"><i>Massaro</i> Cirino had yoked the ass to the +plow, together with an old mare which +matched it like a stone in a ring, and drew +her brave furrow all day long, for miles and +miles, from the time the lark began to sing +in the clear morning sky, till, with quick +and hasty flights, and melancholy chirping, +the robin red-breasts ran to hide behind +the naked bushes, trembling with cold +under the mist that rose like a sea.</p> + +<p>Only, as the ass was smaller than the +mare, a cushion of hay was put over the +saddle under the yoke, and it had hard +work to break up the frozen clods, by dint +of chafed shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It'll help spare the mare, who's getting +old," said <i>massaro</i> Cirino. "It's got a +heart as broad and big as the Plain of +Catania, that Saint Joseph's ass has! and +you would not think it!"</p> + +<p>And he added, turning to his wife, who +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> +had followed him, wrapped in a mantellina, +penuriously scattering the seed,—</p> + +<p>"If anything should happen to it—Heaven +forefend—we are ruined with the +prospects before us."</p> + +<p>The woman looked forward to the prospects +of crops in the rocky, desolate, little +field, with its white and cracked soil, so +long had it been since the rain fell, and all +the water it got came in the form of mist +and fog, of the kind that spoils the seed, +and when it was time to dig up the ground, +it was so yellow and hard, that you would +call it the very beard of the devil, as if it +had been burnt with sulphur matches!</p> + +<p>"In spite of the crop which I put in," +mourned <i>massaro</i> Cirino, pulling off his +doublet, "why, that ass has worked himself +to death like a stupid mule. That ass is +under a curse!"</p> + +<p>His wife had a lump in her throat at the +sight of the parched field, and she replied +with tears rolling from her eyes,—</p> + +<p>"The ass had nothing to do with the failure. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> +It brought a good crop to <i>compare</i> +Neli. But we are unfortunate."</p> + +<p>So the Saint Joseph's ass changed masters +once more, when <i>massaro</i> Cirino returned +from the field with the sickle over +his shoulder, it being useless even to try to +reap that year, although the images of the +saints had been stuck into bamboo sticks +all over the ground for protection, and two +<i>tarģ</i><a name="FNanchor_17" id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> had been paid to the priest for his +blessing.</p> + +<p>"It's the devil that we want rather than +the saints," said <i>massaro</i> Cirino, irreverently, +when he saw all those stalks standing +up like crests, which even the ass refused to +touch, and he spat up towards that turquoise-colored +sky, so relentlessly cloudless.</p> + +<p>It was then that <i>compare</i> Luciano, the +carter, meeting <i>massaro</i> Cirino, as he was +driving back the ass with empty saddlebags, +asked,—</p> + +<p>"What'll you take for that Saint Joseph's +ass?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span></p> + +<p>"Anything you'll give me! Cursed be +he and the saint who made him!" replied +<i>massaro</i> Cirino. "Now we haven't any +more bread to eat, or fodder to give the +beast."</p> + +<p>"I'll give you fifteen <i>lire</i> for it, seeing +that you are ruined, but the ass isn't worth +so much, for it won't last out more than +six months! See how thin it is!"</p> + +<p>"You might have got more than that," +grumbled <i>massaro</i> Cirino's wife, after the +bargain was settled. "<i>Compare</i> Luciano's +mule's dead, and he hadn't money enough +to buy another. Now if he hadn't bought +our Saint Joseph's ass, he wouldn't have +known what to do with his cart and harnesses; +you'll see that ass'll be a fortune +to him."</p> + +<p>The ass was set to work drawing the +cart, but the shafts of it were much too +high for it, and brought all the weight on +its shoulders, so that it would not have +survived even six months; for it went +limping along over the hilly roads under +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> +<i>compare</i> Luciano's cruel cudgelling, who +tried to put a little spirit into it; and when +it went down hill, the case was even worse, +for then the whole load rested on it, and +pushed against it so hard that it had to +make its back like an arch to hold the cart +back, and push with those poor scarred +legs, and people would laugh to see it, and +when it fell it would have taken all the +angels of Paradise to get it to its feet +again. But <i>compare</i> Luciano knew that he +carried three quintals of merchandise more +than a mule, and the load would bring him +five <i>tarģ</i> a quintal.</p> + +<p>"Every day that Saint Joseph's ass +lives," said he, "I make fifteen <i>tarģ</i>, and +his keep costs me less than a mule's +would."</p> + +<p>Every time the people who happened +to be sauntering along behind the cart saw +the poor beast, which could hardly put one +leg in front of the other, arching its spine +and panting heavily, with discouragement +clouding its eye, they would say,— +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span></p> + +<p>"Block the wheel with a rock, and let +that poor creature have a chance to get its +breath."</p> + +<p>But <i>compare</i> Luciano would reply,—</p> + +<p>"If I let him do as he pleases, I should +not make my fifteen <i>tarģ</i> a day. His hide's +got to pay for mine. When he can't do +any more work I shall sell him to the lime +dealer; for the beast is good enough for +his work. I tell you there's no truth at +all in the idea that St. Joseph's asses are +<i>vigliacchi</i>. Besides, I got this one of +<i>massaro</i> Cirino for a piece of bread, after +he was 'poverished."</p> + +<p class="p2">In this way the Saint Joseph's ass +passed into the hands of the lime-dealer, +who already possessed a score or more of +asses all lean and moribund, which carried +his sacks of plaster, and picked up a +wretched living by means of the mouthfuls +of weeds that they could snatch as +they went along the road.</p> + +<p>The lime-dealer objected to the Saint +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> +Joseph's ass because it was covered with +worse scars than his other beasts, with its +legs seared by the hot iron, and the skin +on its chest worn off by the poitrel, and +the withers raw by the chafing of the plow, +and the knees barked by constant falls, +and then that pelt of black and white +seemed to him so inharmonious among his +other brown-skinned animals.</p> + +<p>"That makes no difference," replied +<i>compare</i> Luciano. "Besides, it will serve +to distinguish your asses at a distance."</p> + +<p>But he deducted two <i>tarģ</i> from the seven +<i>lire</i> that he had asked, so as to bring the +business to a settlement.</p> + +<p>Now the Saint Joseph's ass would not +have been recognized even by the <i>padrona</i> +who had been present when it was born, +so greatly had it changed as it stumbled +along with its nose to the ground and its +ears curled over like an umbrella under +the lime-dealer's heavy sacks, twitching its +flanks under the blows of the youth who +drove the caravan. But then the <i>padrona</i> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span> +herself was changed at that time, what with +the bad harvests they had gathered and +the hunger from which she had suffered, +and the fevers which they had all contracted +in the low lands, she and her +husband and her Turiddu, while they had +no money to buy any more quinine at the +apothecary's and at the same time they had +no more asses even of the Saint Joseph +kind to sell for the small price of thirty-five +<i>lire</i>!</p> + +<p>In winter, when there was little work +and the wood for burning the lime was +scarce, and to be had only at a distance, +and the frozen paths hadn't a leaf on their +hedges or a mouthful of stubble along by +the icy gutters, life was still harder for +those poor brutes, and the <i>padrone</i> knew +that in winter not half as much was eaten; +so he used to buy a good stock of provisions +in the spring.</p> + +<p>At night the drove remained in the open +air near the lime-burners, and the brutes +clustered together for protection against +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> +the cold. But those stars shining like +swords through and through them in spite +of their thick hides, and all those ulcer-eaten +beasts shook and trembled in the +cold as if they were human beings.</p> + +<p>But then there are many Christians who +are not better off, not having even such a +ragged coat as that wrapt up in which the +herd-boy slept before the furnace.</p> + +<p>Near by there lived a poor widow in a +dilapidated hut, more tumble-down by far +than the lime-furnace, and through its roof +the stars penetrated like swords, as if it +were no roof at all, and the wind fluttered +the wretched rags of her covering. At +first she took in washing, but that was +meagre pay, for the people thereabouts do +their own washing, when they wash at all, +and now that her little boy had grown she +went about peddling wood in the village. +No one had known her husband and no +one knew where she got the wood that she +sold; that was known only by her son, +who went about picking it up here and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> +there at the risk of getting shot by the +<i>campieri</i>.</p> + +<p>"If you only had an ass!" the lime-dealer +had said to her, hoping that he +might dispose of that Saint Joseph's ass, +which was good for nothing more, "then +you could take down to the village much +bigger fagots, now that your son is getting +to be grown up."</p> + +<p>The poor woman had a few <i>lire</i> in the +knot of her handkerchief, and she let herself +be persuaded into it by the lime-burner, +because it is said that "old things +go to destruction in the house of a fool."</p> + +<p>One thing at least was true: the poor +Saint Joseph's ass had a more endurable +existence at last, because the widow regarded +it as a treasure by reason of the +few <i>soldi</i> that it had cost her, and she +went out nights in search of straw and hay +for it, and she kept it in her hut next her +own bed because its vital heat was as good +as a fire, and in this way one hand washed +the other, as the proverb has it. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span></p> + +<p>The woman driving the ass loaded with +a mountain of wood so that its ears could +not be seen, built air-castles as she went, +and her son ravaged the hedges, and risked +his life in the borders of the woodlands to +gather together his load, while both mother +and son had an idea that they were going +to become rich by that business, until, +finally, the baron's <i>campiere</i> caught the boy +breaking off branches, and gave him a terrible +beating.</p> + +<p>The doctor, for the price of curing the +lad, devoured all the spare <i>soldi</i> knotted in +the handkerchief, the store of wood, and +whatever else vendible she had,—and that +was not much in all conscience,—so that +the widow one night when her son was in +a raging fever, with his face turned to the +wall, and there was not a mouthful of bread +in the house, went out, raging and talking +to herself, as if she, too, had the fever, and +she went to break off an almond-tree near +by in such a way that it would not appear +how it happened, and at dawn she loaded +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> +it on the ass to go and sell it. But the ass +on the way up stumbled under the weight, +and went down on its knees, just as Saint +Joseph's ass knelt before the infant Jesus, +and would not get up again.</p> + +<p>"Souls of the dead!" stammered the +woman, "won't you carry this load of wood +for me."</p> + +<p>And the passers-by pulled the ass's tail, +and they bit its ears, so as to make it get +up.</p> + +<p>"Don't you see it's dying?" at last remarked +a carter, and so at least the others +let it alone, because the ass had the eye of +a dead fish, a cold nose, and a shudder ran +over its skin.</p> + +<p>The woman, meantime, thought of her +son, who was delirious with fever, and a +flushed face, and cried,—</p> + +<p>"Now what shall we do,—what shall +we do?"</p> + +<p>"If you will sell it, and all the wood on +its back for five <i>tarģ</i>, I'll give that much," +said the carter who had an empty cart; and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> +as the woman looked at it with squinting +eyes, he added, "I'll only take the wood, +for the ass isn't worth that—"</p> + +<p>And he gave a kick to the carcass, which +sounded like a burst drum.</p> + +<p class="center p6"><span class="b1">THE BEREAVED.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span></p> + +<p class="p2"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he little girl appeared at the door, +twisting the corner of her apron in +her fingers, and said,—</p> + +<p>"Here I am!"</p> + +<p>Then, when no one paid any attention to +her, she looked shyly first at one and then +at another of the women who were kneading +dough, and spoke again,—</p> + +<p>"They told me,—'Go to <i>comare</i> Sidora.'"</p> + +<p>"Come here, come here," cried <i>comare</i> +Sidora, red as a tomato, as she stood in the +back part of the bake-shop. "Wait a +moment, and I'll make you a nice cake."</p> + +<p>"It means they are bringing <i>comare</i> +Nunzia the Viaticum; they've sent the +little girl away," observed the woman from +Lacodia.</p> + +<p>One of the women engaged in kneading +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> +the dough, turned her head, with her hands +still at work in the trough, her arms bare +to the elbow, and asked the little girl,—</p> + +<p>"How is your step-mother?"</p> + +<p>The child, not knowing the woman, +looked at her with frightened eyes, and +hanging her head, and nervously working +at the ends of her apron, said, in a low +voice, between her set teeth,—</p> + +<p>"She's in bed."</p> + +<p>"Don't you see 'tis the Sacrament," +replied la Licodiana. "Now the neighbors +have begun to scream at the door."</p> + +<p>"As soon as I finish kneading this +dough," said <i>comare</i> Sidora, "I'll run over +a moment to see if they have need of anything. +<i>Compare</i> Meno loses his right hand +when this second wife of his dies."</p> + +<p>"Some men have no luck with their +wives, just as some are unfortunate with +their mules. No sooner do they get 'em +than they lose 'em. There's <i>comare</i> Angela."</p> + +<p>"Yesterday evening," observed la Licodiana, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> +"I saw <i>compare</i> Meno at his door; +he had come back from the vineyard before +the Ave Marie, and was blowing his nose +on his handkerchief."</p> + +<p>"But," suggested the woman who was +kneading the dough, "he is a master hand +at killing off his wives. In less than three +years already two of <i>curįtolo</i><a name="FNanchor_18" id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> Nino's +daughters have been eaten up, one after +the other! Wait a little and you'll see +the third go the same way, and all <i>curįtolo</i> +Nino's things wasted."</p> + +<p>"Is this little girl <i>comare</i> Nunzia's +daughter, or his first wife's?"</p> + +<p>"She's his first wife's daughter. But this +one has been just as kind to her as though +she had been her own mamma, because +the little orphan was her niece, you know."</p> + +<p>The child, hearing them speaking of +herself, began to weep silently in a corner, +thus relieving her bursting heart, +which she had till then kept under control, +by playing with her apron. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come here, come here," pursued <i>comare</i> +Sidora. "The nice cake's all ready. +There, there! Don't cry; for your mamma's +in Paradise."</p> + +<p>The little girl then dried her eyes with her +doubled fists, because she saw that <i>comare</i> +Sidora was preparing to open the oven.</p> + +<p>"Poor <i>comare</i> Nunzia!" said a neighbor, +appearing at the door. "The gravediggers +are on their way. They just passed +by here."</p> + +<p>"Heaven protect me! as I am under +Mary's grace!"<a name="FNanchor_19" id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> exclaimed the women, +crossing themselves.</p> + +<p><i>Comare</i> Sidora took the cake out of the +oven, brushed off the ashes, and handed it, +smoking hot, to the little girl, who took it +in her apron and walked away slowly, +slowly, blowing on it as she went.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" cried <i>comare</i> +Sidora. "Stay here! There's a black-faced +<i>ba-bau</i> at your house who carries +folks off." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span></p> + +<p>The little orphan listened gravely, with +wide-opened eyes. Then she replied in +the same obstinate drawl,—</p> + +<p>"I am going to carry it to my mamma."</p> + +<p>"Your mamma is dead; stay here," said +one of the neighbors. "Eat your cake."</p> + +<p>Then the little girl squatted down on the +door-step, the image of sadness, holding +her cake in her hand without offering to +eat it.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly seeing "<i>il babbo</i>" coming, +she jumped up joyously and ran to +meet him.</p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Meno entered without saying +a word, and sat down in a corner, with his +hands dangling between his knees, with a +long face, and his lips as white as paper; +for since the day before, he had not put a +morsel of food into his mouth because of +his grief. He looked at the women as if to +say,—</p> + +<p>"<i>Poveretto me!</i>"</p> + +<p>Seeing the black handkerchief around +his neck, the women, with their hands still +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> +pasted with dough, made a circle round +him and condoled with him in chorus.</p> + +<p>"Don't speak of it to me, <i>comare</i> +Sidora," he exclaimed, shaking his head, +and heaving up his great shoulders. +"This is a thorn that will never be pulled +out of my heart. That woman was a real +saint! I did not deserve her, saving your +presence. Only day before yesterday, +when she was so sick, she got up to tend +to the weaning colt, and she would not let +me call in the doctor, or buy any medicine, +either—so as to not waste any +money. I sha'n't find another wife like +her. No I sha'n't, I tell you. Let me +weep—I've good reason to."</p> + +<p>And he began to shake his head and +to heave his shoulders as if his misfortune +were a burden not to be borne.</p> + +<p>"As to getting another wife," said la +Licodiana, to encourage him, "all you've +got to do is to look for one."</p> + +<p>"No! no!" asseverated <i>compare</i> Meno, +with his head hung low, like a mule's. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> +"Such another wife is not to be had. +This time I shall remain a widower. I +tell you I shall."</p> + +<p><i>Comare</i> Sidora interrupted him,—</p> + +<p>"Don't say foolish things like that. You +must get another wife, if only for the sake +of this little orphan girl; for otherwise, who +will look out for her when you are out +working? You wouldn't let her run in +the streets, would you?"</p> + +<p>"Then find me another wife like my last +one! She would not wash herself, for fear +of soiling the water; and at home, she +served me better than a farm-hand—affectionate +and faithful. Why, she would not +take even a handful of beans from the rack, +or ever open her mouth to ask for anything. +And beside, a fine dowry—things +as good as gold. And I've got to give +it all back because she had no children. +At least, so the sacristan says, when he +came with the Holy Water. And how +kind she was to the little girl who reminded +her of her poor sister. Any other woman, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> +except an aunt, would have cast an evil +eye on her, the poor little orphan!</p> + +<p>"If you asked <i>curįtolo</i> Nino for his third +daughter, it would make things all right, +both for the orphan and for the dowry," +suggested la Licodiana.</p> + +<p>"That's what I say. But don't speak +of it to me, for now my mouth is bitter as +gall."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't talk about it now," said +<i>comare</i> Sidora. "Eat a bit of something, +<i>compare</i> Meno. You are all tired out."</p> + +<p>"No! no!" returned <i>compare</i> Meno several +times. "Don't speak to me of eating, +for I have a lump in my throat."</p> + +<p><i>Comare</i> Sidora placed before him on a +stool fresh bread with ripe olives, a piece +of sheep's-head cheese, and a jug of wine. +And the poor clumsy fellow set to work +nibbling at it, all the time grumbling, with +a long face.</p> + +<p>"Such bread as she made," he observed +with a quaver in his voice, "no one else +could ever make. Just as if it were made +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span> +of real meal. And with a handful of wild +fennel, she would make a soup to lick your +fingers over! Now I shall have to buy +bread at the shop of that thief, <i>mastro</i> +Puddo; and as for hot soup, I sha'n't have +any more, when I come home wet as a +fresh-hatched chicken. And I shall have +to go to bed with a cold stomach. Only +the other night, while I was watching with +her, after I had been digging and grubbing +all day on the hill, and caught myself snoring +as I sat next the bed, so tired I was, +the poor soul said to me: 'Go and get a +mouthful of something to eat. I left the +soup to keep hot on the hearth.' And she +was always thinking about my comfort, +and about the house, and whatever was to +be done, and this thing and that thing; and +she could not come to an end of speaking +or of giving her last directions, like one +who is going off on a long journey, and I +heard her constantly muttering between +waking and sleeping. And how contentedly +she went off to the other world! With +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> +the crucifix on her breast, and her hands +folded over it. She has no need of Masses +and rosaries, saint that she was. Money +spent on the priest would be money thrown +away."</p> + +<p>"World of tribulation!" exclaimed a +neighbor. "<i>Comare</i> Angela's ass is like to +die of the colic."</p> + +<p>"But my misfortunes are heavier," ended +<i>compare</i> Meno, wiping his mouth with the +back of his hand. "No, don't make me +eat any more, for the mouthfuls fall like +lumps of lead into my stomach. You eat +something, you poor innocent, for you +don't understand what you've lost. Now +you have no one any longer to wash you +and brush your hair. Now you haven't a +mamma any more to shelter you under her +wings like a setting hen, and you are ruined, +as I am. I found her for you, but a second +stepmother like her you won't get, my +daughter!"</p> + +<p>The child with bursting heart put up her +lip again, and stuck her fists into her eyes. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, you can't possibly get along alone," +interposed <i>comare</i> Sidora. "You must find +another wife for the sake of this poor little +motherless girl, left in the midst of the +street."</p> + +<p>"And how shall I get along? And my +colt? And my house? And who'll look +after the hens? Let me weep, <i>comare</i> +Sidora! It would have been better if I +had died instead of that good soul."</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush! you don't know what you +are saying, and you don't know what a +house without its head is!"</p> + +<p>"That is true," assented <i>compare</i> Meno, +comforted.</p> + +<p>"Just take example from poor <i>comare</i> +Angela! First, her husband died; then +her grown-up son, and now her ass is also +dying."</p> + +<p>"The ass ought to be bled in the belly, +if it has the colic," said <i>compare</i> Meno.</p> + +<p>"Come, you know all about such things," +suggested the neighbor. "Do a work of +charity for the sake of your wife's soul." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Meno got up to go to <i>comare</i> +Angela's, and the little orphan ran behind +him like a chicken, now that she had no +one else in the world. <i>Comare</i> Sidora, +good housewife that she was, called him +back.</p> + +<p>"And the house? How have you left +it, now that there is no one there to look +after it?"</p> + +<p>"I locked the door, and besides cousin +Alfia lives opposite, and will keep an eye +on it."</p> + +<p>Neighbor Angela's ass lay stretched +out in the midst of the yard, with his +muzzle cold and his ears hanging, every +now and then kicking his four legs into +the air whenever the colic made him draw +in his sides like a pair of bellows. The +widow crouching in front of him on the +rocks, with her hands clenching her gray +hair, and her eyes dry and despairing, +was watching him, pale as a corpse.</p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Meno manœuvred round the +animal, touching his ears, looking into his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> +lifeless eyes, and when he saw that the +blood was still oozing from the punctured +vein under the belly, drop by drop, and +coagulating in a black mass on his hairy +skin, he remarked:</p> + +<p>"So you've had him bled, have you?"</p> + +<p>The widow fixed her dark eyes on his +face without speaking, and nodded her +"yes."</p> + +<p>"Then there's nothing more to do," said +<i>compare</i> Meno, and he continued to stare +at the ass, which stretched itself out on +the stones, stiffly, with its hair all rumpled, +like a dead cat.</p> + +<p>"It is God's will, sister!" said he to +comfort her. "We are ruined, both of +us!"</p> + +<p>He had gone round by the widow's side +and squatted down on the stones, with his +little daughter between his knees, and both +of them continued to gaze at the poor +beast, which from time to time threshed +the air with its legs as if it were in the +agonies of death. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Comare</i> Sidora, when she had got the +bread safely out of the oven, also came +into the yard with the cousin Alfia, who +had put on her new gown and wore her +silk handkerchief on her head, all ready +for a bit of gossip, and <i>comare</i> Sidora said +to <i>compare</i> Meno, drawing him aside,—</p> + +<p>"<i>Curįtolo</i> Nino won't give you his third +daughter, for at your house the women die +off like flies, and he loses the dowry. +And then la Santa is too young, and +there's the risk that she'd fill your house +with children."</p> + +<p>"If only one could be sure of boys! +But there's always the danger of girls +coming. Oh, I am so unfortunate!"</p> + +<p>"Well, there's the cousin Alfia. She is +no longer young, and she has property,—the +house and a bit of vineyard."</p> + +<p><i>Compare</i> Meno fixed his eyes on the +cousin Alfia, who with her arms a-kimbo +was pretending to look at the ass, and then +he said, "That's so! One might think of +that. But I am so very unlucky!" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Comare</i> Sidora interrupted him,—</p> + +<p>"Think of those who are more unlucky +than you are!"</p> + +<p>"No one is, I tell you. I shall never +find another wife like her, I shall never be +able to forget her, even if I married ten +times. And this poor little orphan will +never forget her, either."</p> + +<p>"Calm yourself! You'll forget her fast +enough. And the little girl will forget her, +too. Didn't she forget her own mother? +But just look at poor neighbor Angela, +whose ass is dying, and she hasn't got +anything else. She'll never be able to +forget it."</p> + +<p><i>Comare</i> Alfia saw that it was a favorable +moment for her to approach, and drawing +a long face, she began to eulogize the +dead woman. She had with her own +hands helped to lay her out on the bier, +and had put over her face a fine linen +handkerchief, of which she had a goodly +store, as may be imagined.</p> + +<p>Then <i>compare</i> Meno, with his heart +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> +melting within him, turned to his neighbor +Angela, who was sitting motionless, as if +she had been turned to stone.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you'll have the ass skinned +won't you? At least get some money for +his pelt."</p> + +<div class="footnotes p6"><p class="center b1">FOOTNOTES:</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Gramigna means dog's-tail-grass. +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Fichidindia, also called Indian figs.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> An onza is $2.55.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Pic-nic day.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Hill with a cross on it.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <i>I.e.</i>, a <i>lusus naturę</i>, abnormal!</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Field guard.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> La puddara is the Sicilian name for Ursa Major,—the +Big Bear.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Stellato, starred, said of a horse with a white spot in +his forehead.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> A fraction of a soldo, or cent.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> A parasitic disease.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> <i>Facemu cuntu ca chioppi e scampau e la nostra amicizia +finiu.</i></p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13" id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> North-east.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14" id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Brigadiere is the station or the Commandant of the +detachment of the Carabaneers in a small town.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15" id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Cowardly, ridiculous, vile.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16" id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> The especial saint of the Provident.</p> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17" id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> A <i>tarģ</i> is one-thirtieth of an <i>onza</i>.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18" id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> The manager of a farm, not a tenant.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19" id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> "<i>Lontano sia! che son figlia di Maria!</i>"</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Under the Shadow of Etna, by Giovanni Verga + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDER THE SHADOW OF ETNA *** + +***** This file should be named 37979-h.htm or 37979-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/7/37979/ + +Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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