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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c88adaf --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55742 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55742) diff --git a/old/55742-0.txt b/old/55742-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8305073..0000000 --- a/old/55742-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7232 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Tales of My Native Town, by Gabriele D'Annunzio - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Tales of My Native Town - -Author: Gabriele D'Annunzio - -Contributor: Joseph Hergesheimer - -Translator: Rafael Mantellini - -Release Date: October 13, 2017 [EBook #55742] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF MY NATIVE TOWN *** - - - - -Produced by ellinora, Barbara Magni and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - TALES _of my_ NATIVE TOWN - - - By - - Gabriele D’Annunzio - - TRANSLATED BY - PROF. RAFAEL MANTELLINI, Ph.D. - INSTRUCTOR OF ROMANCE LANGUAGES AT THE BERKELEY-IRVING - SCHOOL, NEW YORK CITY - - - WITH AN INTRODUCTION - BY - JOSEPH HERGESHEIMER - - - - GARDEN CITY NEW YORK LONDON - DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY - 1920 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY - DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF - TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, - INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - I THE HERO 3 - II THE COUNTESS OF AMALFI 10 - III THE RETURN OF TURLENDANA 56 - IV TURLENDANA DRUNK 72 - V THE GOLD PIECES 83 - VI SORCERY 92 - VII THE IDOLATERS 119 - VIII MUNGIA 140 - IX THE DOWNFALL OF CANDIA 153 - X THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF OFENA 172 - XI THE WAR OF THE BRIDGE 192 - XII THE VIRGIN ANNA 215 - - - - -INTRODUCTION - -BY JOSEPH HERGESHEIMER - - -I - -The attitude of mind necessary to a complete enjoyment of the tales -in this book must first spring from the realisation that, as stories, -they are as different from our own short imaginative fiction as the -town of Pescara, on the Adriatic Sea, is different from Marblehead in -Massachusetts. It is true that fundamentally the motives of creative -writing, at least in the Western Hemisphere, are practically everywhere -alike; they are what might be called the primary emotions, hatred and -envy, love and cruelty, lust, purity and courage. There are others, -but these are sufficient: and an analysis of The Downfall of Candia -together with any considerable story native to the United States would -disclose a similar genesis. - -But men are not so much united by the deeper bonds of a common humanity -as they are separated by the superficial aspects and prejudices of -society. The New England town and Pescara, at heart very much the same, -are far apart in the overwhelming trivialities of civilisation, and -Signor D’Annunzio’s tales, read in a local state of being, might as -well have remained untranslated. But this difference, of course, lies -in the writer, not in his material; and Gabriele D’Annunzio is the -special and peculiar product of modern Italy. - -No other country, no other history, would have given birth to a -genius made up of such contending and utterly opposed qualities: it -is exactly as if all the small principalities that were Italy before -the Risorgemento, all the amazing contradictions of stark heroics and -depraved nepotism, the fanaticism and black blood and superstition, -with the introspective and febrile weariness of a very old land, were -bound into D’Annunzio’s being. - -Not only is this true of the country and of the man, the difference -noted, it particularly includes the writing itself. And exactly here is -the difficulty which, above all others, must be overcome if pleasure -is to result from “Tales of My Native Town.” These are not stories at -all, in the sense of an individual coherent action with the stirring -properties of a plot. The interest is not cunningly seized upon and -stimulated and baffled up to a satisfactory finale. The formula that -constitutes the base of practically every applauded story here—a -determination opposed to hopeless odds but invariably triumphant—is -not only missing from Tales of My Native Town, in the majority of cases -it is controverted. For the greater part man is the victim of inimical -powers, both within him and about; and fate, or rather circumstance, is -too heavy for the defiance of any individual. - -What, actually, has happened is that D’Annunzio has not disentangled -these coherent fragments from the mass of life. He has not lifted his -tales into the crystallised isolation of a short story: they merge -from the beginning and beyond the end into the general confusion of -existence, they are moments, significantly tragic or humorous, selected -from the whole incomprehensible sweep of a vastly larger work, and -presented as naturally as possible. However, they are not without form, -in reality these tales are woven with an infinite delicacy, an art, -like all art, essentially artificial. But a definite interest in them, -the sense of their beauty, must rise from an intrinsic interest in the -greater affair of being. It is useless for anyone not impressed with -the beauty of sheer living as a spectacle to read “Tales of My Native -Town.” - - -II - -The clear understanding of a divergence should result in a common -ground of departure, of sympathy, and to make this plainer still it -ought to be added that in the question of taste, of the latitude -of allowable material and treatment, the Italians are far more -comprehensive than ourselves. This, certainly, is particularly true in -their attitude toward the relation of the sexes; and here is, perhaps, -the greatest difference between what might be loosely called a Latin -literature and an Anglo-Saxon. We are almost exclusively interested -in the results, the reactions, of sexual contacts; but the former have -their gaze fixed keenly on the process itself. At the most we indicate -that consummations of passion have occurred, and then turn, with a -feeling of relief, to what we are convinced is the greater importance -of its consequences. - -But not only is Gabriele D’Annunzio perfectly within his privilege in -lingering over any important, act of nature, he is equally at liberty -to develop all the smaller expressions of lust practically barred from -English or American pens. These, undeniably, have as large an influence -in one country, one man, as in another; they are—as small things are -apt to be—more powerful in the end than the greatest attributes. Yet -while we have agreed to ignore them, to discard them as ignoble and -obscene, in “Tales of My Native Town” erotic gestures and thoughts, -libidinous whispers, play their inevitable devastating part. - -Yet this is not a book devoted to such impulses; one tale only, -although in many ways that is the best, has as its motive lust. It -is rather in the amazingly direct treatment of disease, of physical -abnormality, that it will be disturbing to the unprepared reader -from an entirely different and less admirable, or, at any rate, less -honest, convention. Undoubtedly D’Annunzio’s unsparing revelation of -human deformity and ills will seem morbid to the unaccustomed mind; -but, conversely, it can be urged that the dread of these details is -in itself morbid. Then, too, we have an exaggerated horror of the -unpleasant, a natural, but saccharine, preference for happiness. As -a nation we are not conspicuously happier than Italy, but we clamour -with a deafening insistence for the semblance of a material good -fortune. Meeting pain no better and no worse than other nations, from -our written stories we banish it absolutely; but anyone who cares to -realise the beauty that, beyond question, pervades the following pages -will be obliged to harden himself to meet precisely the deplorable -accidents that he must face wherever life has been contaminated by -centuries of brutal ignorance, oppression and want. - -Again, it is not in the larger aspects, the nobler phases, of suffering -with which we are concerned, but in the cold revelation of rasping -details, brutal sores and deformity, the dusty spiders of paralysis. If -this were all it would be hideous beyond support; but, fortunately, the -coldness is only in the method, there is a saving spirit of pity, the -valid humanity born of understanding. Such horror as exists here is the -result of D’Annunzio’s sensitive recognition of the weight of poverty -and superstition crushing men into unspeakable fatalities of the flesh. -A caustic humour, as well, illuminates the darker pits of existence, -ironic rather than satirical, bitter rather than fatalistic; and then -admirably exposing the rough play of countrymen like the rough wine -of their Province. In addition there is always, for reassurance, the -inclusion of the simple bravery that in itself leavens both life and -books with hope. - - -III - -Yet, with the attention directed so exclusively upon national -differences, equally it must be said that no individual has ever -written into literature a more minute examination of actuality than -that in “Tales of My Native Town.” Indeed, to find its counterpart it -would be necessary to turn to the relentlessly veracious paintings -of the early Dutchmen, or the anatomical canvasses of El Greco. -D’Annunzio’s descriptions of countenances are dermatological, the -smallest pores are carefully traced, the shape and hue and colour -of every feature. This is set down not only directly but by means of -remarkable similies: Binchi-Blanche has a surly, yellow-lined face like -a lemon without any juice; Africana’s husband’s mouth resembles the -cut in a rotten pumpkin; Ciarole’s face was that of a gilded wooden -effigy from which the gilding had partly worn off; while Biagio Quaglia -reflected the brilliancy and freshness of an almond tree in springtime. - -The direct descriptions are often appalling, since, as has already been -indicated, nothing is considered unimportant; there are literally no -reservations, or rather, no, prejudices. The physical disintegration -that accompanies death is, as well, recorded to the last black clot -and bubble of red froth. D’Annunzio is not afraid of death in the -context of his pages, he is never reluctant to meet the great facts, -the terrible penalties, of existence; rather it is upon them that his -writing is founded; it has, in the main, in these tales, two sides, one -of violence, of murder and venom, and the other an idyllic presentation -of a setting, an environment, saturated with classic and natural -beauty. - -The mind, now horrified by the dislocated beggars gathered about the -blind Mungia, is suddenly swept into the release of evening fragrantly -cool like myrtles; or Turlendana returns from his long voyages and, -with his amazing animals, makes his way home into Pescara: “The river -of his native place carried to him the peaceful air of the sea.... -The silence was profound. The cobwebs shone tranquilly in the sun like -mirrors framed by the crystal of the sea.” He passes with the Cyclopean -camel, the monkey and the she-ass across the boat bridge and: “Far -behind the mountain of Gran Sasso the setting sun irradiated the spring -sky ... and from the damp earth, the water of the river, the seas, and -the ponds, the moisture had arisen. A rosy glow tinted the houses, the -sails, the masts, the plants, and the whole landscape, and the figures -of the people, acquiring a sort of transparency, grew obscure, the -lines of their contour wavering in the fading light.” - -Nothing could surpass in peacefulness this vision, a scene like a -mirage of fabulous days wrapped in tender colour. Throughout the tale -of The Virgin Anna, too, there are, in spite of the vitriolic realism -of its spirit, the crystal ecstasies of white flocks of girls before -the Eucharist of their first communion. While it was Anna’s father -who came ashore from his voyages to the island of Rota with his shirt -all scented with southern fruit. The Virgin Anna has many points of -resemblance to that other entranced peasant in Une Vie Simple; but Anna -had a turtle in place of a parrot, and D’Annunzio is severer with his -subject than was Flaubert. - -But such idylls are quickly swept away in the fiery death of the -Duke of Orfena, with the pistols ringing in high stately chambers, -and Mazzagrogna, the major-domo, a dripping corpse, hanging in the -railing of a balcony. There is no shrinking, no evasion, here; and -none is permitted the reader:—the flames that consume the Duke are not -romantic figments, their fierce energy scorches the imagination. - - -IV - -These qualities belong to a high order of creative writing, they can -never be the property of mere talent, they have no part in concessions -to popular and superficial demands. This does not necessarily imply -a criticism of the latter: it is not a crime to prefer happiness to -misery, and certainly the tangible facts of happiness are success -and the omnipotence of love. Tales and stories exist as a source of -pleasure, but men take their pleasures with a difference; and for any -who are moved by the heroic spectacle of humanity pinned by fatality to -earth but forever struggling for release “Tales of My Native Town” must -have a deep significance. - -No one has abhorred brutality and deception more passionately than -Gabriele D’Annunzio, and no one has held himself more firmly to the -exact drawing of their insuperable evils. But this is not all; it is -not, perhaps, even the most important aspect: that may well be his -fascinating art. Here, above all, the contending elements, of his -being, the brilliant genius of the Renaissance, predominate; an age -bright with blood and gold and silk, an age of poetry as delicately -cultivated as its assassinations. It was a period logical and cruel, -lovely and corrupt; and, to an extraordinary degree, it has its -reflection in D’Annunzio’s writing. - -Yet, in him, it is troubled by modern apprehensions, a social -conscience unavoidable now to any fineness of perception. His tales are -no longer simply the blazing arbitrary pictures of the Quatrocento; -they possess our own vastly more burdened spirit. In this, as well, -they are as American as they are Italian; the crimes and beggars and -misery of Pescara, the problems and hopes of one, belong to the other; -the bonds of need and sympathy are complete. - -The tales themselves are filled with energy and movement, the emotions -are in high keys. At times a contest of will, of temptation playing -with fear, as in The Gold Pieces, they rise to pitched battles between -whole towns; the factions, more often than not led by Holy reliques and -statues, a sacred arm in silver or the sparkling bust of a Saint with a -solar disc, massed with scythes and bars and knives, meet in sanguinary -struggle. Or again the passions smoulder into individual bitterness and -scandal and mean hatred. The Duchess of Amalfi is such a chronicle, the -record of Don Giovà’s devastating passion for Violetta Kutufa, who came -to Pescara with a company of singers at Carnival. - -Nothing is omitted that could add to the veracity, the inevitable -collapse, of this almost senile Don Juan; while the psychology of the -ending is an accomplishment of arresting power and fitness. There is -in The Duchess of Amalfi a vivid presentation of Pescara itself, the -houses and Violetta’s room scented with cyprus-powder, the square with -the cobblers working and eating figs, a caged blackbird whistling the -Hymn of Garibaldi, the Casino, immersed in shadow, its tables sprinkled -with water. - -Around Pescara is the level sea, the river and mountains and the broad -campagnia, the vines, the wine vats and oil presses, the dwellings of -mud and reeds; the plain is flooded with magnificent noon, and, at -night, Turlendana, drunk, is mocked by the barking of vagrant dogs; -the men linger under Violetta’s lighted windows, and the strains of her -song run through all the salons, all the heads, of the town.... It is -as far away as possible, and yet, in its truth, implied in every heart. - - - - -TALES OF MY NATIVE TOWN - - - - -I - -_THE HERO_ - - -Already the huge standards of Saint Gonselvo had appeared on the square -and were swaying heavily in the breeze. Those who bore them in their -hands were men of herculean stature, red in the face and with their -necks swollen from effort; and they were playing with them. - -After the victory over the Radusani the people of Mascalico celebrated -the feast of September with greater magnificence than ever. A -marvellous passion for religion held all souls. The entire country -sacrificed the recent richness of the corn to the glory of the Patron -Saint. Upon the streets from one window to another the women had -stretched their nuptial coverlets. The men had wreathed with vines -the doorways and heaped up the thresholds with flowers. As the wind -blew along the streets there was everywhere an immense and dazzling -undulation which intoxicated the crowd. - -From the church the procession proceeded to wind in and out and to -lengthen out as far as the square. Before the altar, where Saint -Pantaleone had fallen, eight men, privileged souls, were awaiting the -moment for the lifting of the statue of Saint Gonselvo; their names -were: Giovanni Curo, l’Ummalido, Mattala, Vencenzio Guanno, Rocco -di Cenzo, Benedetto Galante, Biagio di Clisci, Giovanni Senzapaura. -They stood in silence, conscious of the dignity of their work, but -with their brains slightly confused. They seemed very strong; had the -burning eye of the fanatic, and wore in their ears, like women, two -circles of gold. From time to time they tested their biceps and wrists -as if to calculate their vigour; or smiled fugitively at one another. - -The statue of the Patron Saint was enormous, very heavy, made of hollow -bronze, blackish, with the head and hands of silver. - -Mattala cried: - -“Ready!” - -The people, everywhere, struggled to see. The windows of the church -roared at every gust of the wind. The nave was fumigated with incense -and resin. The sounds of instruments were heard now and then. A kind of -religious fever seized the eight men, in the centre of that turbulence. -They extended their arms to be ready. - -Mattala cried: - -“One! Two! Three!” - -Simultaneously the men made the effort to raise the statue to the -altar. But its weight was overpowering, and the figure swayed to the -left. The men had not yet succeeded in getting a firm grip around the -base. They bent their backs in their endeavour to resist. Biagio di -Clisci and Giovanni Curo, the least strong, lost their hold. The statue -swerved violently to one side. L’Ummalido gave a cry. - -“Take care! Take care!” vociferated the spectators on seeing the Patron -Saint so imperilled. From the square came a resounding crash that -drowned all voices. - -L’Ummalido had fallen on his knees with his right arm beneath the -bronze. Thus kneeling, he held his two large eyes, full of terror -and pain, fixed on his hand which he could not free, while his mouth -twisted but no longer spoke. Drops of blood sprinkled the altar. - -His companions, all together, made a second effort to raise the weight. -The operation was difficult. L’Ummalido, in a spasm of pain, twisted -his mouth. The women spectators shuddered. - -At length the statue was lifted and L’Ummalido withdrew his hand, -crushed and bleeding and formless. “Go home, now! Go home!” the people -cried, while pushing him toward the door of the church. - -A woman removed her apron and offered it to him for a bandage. -L’Ummalido refused it. He did not speak, but watched a group of men who -were gesticulating and disputing around the statue. - -“It is my turn!” - -“No!—no! It’s my turn!” - -“No! let me!” - -Cicco Ponno, Mattia Seafarolo and Tommaso di Clisci were contending for -the place left vacant by L’Ummalido. - -He approached the disputants. Holding his bruised hand at his side, and -with the other opening a path, he said simply: - -“The position is mine.” - -And he placed his left shoulder as a prop for the Patron Saint. He -stifled down his pain, gritting his teeth, with fierce will-power. - -Mattala asked him: - -“What are you trying to do?” - -He answered: - -“What Saint Gonselvo wishes me to do.” - -And he began to walk with the others. Dumbfounded the people watched -him pass. From time to time, someone, on seeing the wound which was -bleeding and growing black, asked him: - -“L’Umma’, what is the matter?” - -He did not answer. He moved forward gravely, measuring his steps by -the rhythm of the music, with his mind a little hazy, beneath the vast -coverlets that flapped in the wind and amongst the swelling crowd. - -At a street corner he suddenly fell. The Saint stopped an instant and -swayed, in the centre of a momentary confusion, then continued its -progress. Mattia Scafarola supplied the vacant place. Two relations -gathered up the swooning man and carried him to a nearby house. - -Anna di Cenzo, who was an old woman, expert at healing wounds, looked -at the formless and bloody member, and then shaking her head, said: - -“What can I do with it?” - -Her little skill was able to do nothing. L’Ummalido controlled his -feelings and said nothing. He sat down and tranquilly contemplated his -wound. The hand hung limp, forever useless, with the bones ground to -powder. - -Two or three aged farmers came to look at it. Each, with a gesture or a -word, expressed the same thought. - -L’Ummalido asked: - -“Who carried the Saint in my place?” - -They answered: - -“Mattia Scafarola.” - -Again he asked: - -“What are they doing now?” - -They answered: - -“They are singing the vespers.” - -The farmers bid him good-bye and left for vespers. A great chiming came -from the mother church. - -One of the relations placed near the wound a bucket of cold water, -saying: - -“Every little while put your hand in it. We must go. Let us go and -listen to the vespers.” - -L’Ummalido remained alone. The chiming increased, while changing its -metre. The light of day began to wane. An olive tree, blown by the -wind, beat its branches against the low window. - -L’Ummalido began to bathe his hand little by little. As the blood and -concretions fell away, the injury appeared even greater. L’Ummalido -mused: - -“It is entirely useless! It is lost. Saint Gonselvo, I offer it up to -you.” - -He took a knife and went out. The streets were deserted. All of the -devotees were in the church. Above the houses sped, like fugitive herds -of cattle, the violet clouds of a September sunset. - -In the church the united multitude sang in measured intervals as if -in chorus to the music of the instruments. An intense heat emanated -from the human bodies and the burning tapers. The silver head of Saint -Gonselvo scintillated from on high like a light house. L’Ummalido -entered. To the stupefaction of all, he walked up to the altar and -said, in a clear voice, while holding the knife in his left hand: - -“Saint Gonselvo, I offer it up to you.” - -And he began to cut around the right wrist, gently, in full sight of -the horrified people. The shapeless hand became detached little by -little amidst the blood. It swung an instant suspended by the last -filaments. Then it fell into a basin of copper which held the money -offerings at the feet of the Patron Saint. - -L’Ummalido then raised the bloody stump and repeated in a clear voice: - -“Saint Gonselvo, I offer it up to you.” - - - - -II - -_THE COUNTESS OF AMALFI_ - - -I - -When, one day, toward two o’clock in the afternoon, Don Giovanni -Ussorio was about to set his foot on the threshold of Violetta Kutufas’ -house, Rosa Catana appeared at the head of the stairs and announced in -a lowered voice, while she bent her head: - -“Don Giovà, the Signora has gone.” - -Don Giovanni, at this unexpected news, stood dumbfounded, and remained -thus for a moment with his eyes bulging and his mouth wide open While -gazing upward as if awaiting further explanations. Since Rosa stood -silently at the top of the stairs, twisting an edge of her apron with -her hands and dilly-dallying somewhat, he asked at length: - -“But tell me why? But tell me why?” And he mounted several steps while -he kept repeating with a slight stutter: - -“But why? But why?” - -“Don Giovà, what have I to tell you? Only that she has gone.” - -“But why?” - -“Don Giovà, I do not know, so there!” - -And Rosa took several steps on the landing-place toward the door of the -empty apartment. She was rather a thin woman, with reddish hair, and -face liberally scattered with freckles. Her large, ash-coloured eyes -had nevertheless a singular vitality. The excessive distance between -her nose and mouth gave to the lower part of her face the appearance of -a monkey. - -Don Giovanni pushed open the partly closed door and passed through the -first room, and then the third; he walked around the entire apartment -with excited steps; he stopped at the little room, set aside for the -bath. The silence almost terrified him; a heavy anxiety weighted down -his heart. - -“It can’t be true! It can’t be true!” he murmured, staring around -confusedly. - -The furniture of the room was in its accustomed place, but there was -missing from the table under the round mirror, the crystal phials, -the tortoise-shell combs, the boxes, the brushes, all of those small -objects that assist at the preparation of feminine beauty. In a corner -stood a species of large, zinc kettle shaped like a guitar; and within -it sparkled water tinted a delicate pink from some essence. The water -exhaled subtle perfume that blended in the air with the perfume of -cyprus-powder. The exhalation held in it some inherent quality of -sensuousness. - -“Rosa! Rosa!” Don Giovanni cried, in a voice almost extinguished by the -insurmountable anxiety that he felt surging through him. - -The woman appeared. - -“Tell me how it happened! To what place has she gone? And when did she -go? And why?” begged Don Giovanni, making with his mouth a grimace both -comic and childish, in order to restrain his grief and force back the -tears. - -He seized Rosa by both wrists, and thus incited her to speak, to reveal. - -“I do not know, Signor,” she answered. “This morning she put her -clothes in her portmanteau, sent for Leones’ carriage, and went away -without a word. What can you do about it? She will return.” - -“Return-n-n!” sobbed Don Giovanni, raising his eyes in which already -the tears had started to overflow. “Has she told you when? Speak!” And -this last cry was almost threatening and rabid. - -“Eh?... to be sure she said to me, ‘Addio, Rosa. We will never see -each other again...! But, after all ... who can tell! Everything is -possible.’” - -Don Giovanni sank dejectedly upon a chair at these words, and set -himself to weeping with so much force of grief that the woman was -almost touched by it. - -“Now what are you doing, Don Giovà? Are there not other women in this -world? Don Giovà, why do you worry about it...?” - -Don Giovanni did not hear. He persisted in weeping like a child and -hiding his face in Rosa Catana’s apron; his whole body was rent with -the upheavals of his grief. - -“No, no, no.... I want Violetta! I want Violetta!” he cried. - -At that stupid childishness Rosa could not refrain from smiling. She -gave assistance by stroking the bald head of Don Giovanni and murmuring -words of consolation. - -“I will find Violetta for you; I will find her.... So! be quiet! Do not -weep any more, Don Giovannino. The people passing can hear. Don’t worry -about it, now.” - -Don Giovanni, little by little, under the friendly caress, curbed his -tears and wiped his eyes on her apron. - -“Oh! oh! what a thing to happen!” he exclaimed, after having remained -for a moment with his glance fixed on the zinc kettle, where the water -glittered now under a sunbeam. “Oh! oh! what luck! Oh!” - -He took his head between his hands and swung it back and forth two or -three times, as do imprisoned monkeys. - -“Now go, Don Giovanino, go!” Rosa Cantana said, taking him gently by -the arm and drawing him along. - -In the little room the perfume seemed to increase. Innumerable flies -buzzed around a cup where remained the residue of some coffee. The -reflection of the water trembled on the walls like a subtle net of -gold. - -“Leave everything just so!” pleaded Don Giovanni of the woman, in a -voice broken by badly suppressed sobs. He descended the stairs, shaking -his head over his fate. His eyes were swollen and red, bulging from -their sockets like those of a mongrel dog. - -His round body and prominent stomach overweighted his two slightly -inverted legs. Around his bald skull ran a crown of long curling hair -that seemed not to take root in the scalp but in the shoulders, from -which it climbed upward toward the nape of the neck and the temples. He -had the habit of replacing from time to time with his bejewelled hands, -some disarranged tuft; the jewels, precious and gaudy, sparkled even on -his thumb, and a cornelian button as large as a strawberry fastened the -bosom of his shirt over the centre of his chest. - -When he reached the broad daylight of the square, he experienced anew -that unconquerable confusion. Several cobblers were working near by and -eating figs. A caged blackbird was whistling the hymn of Garibaldi, -continuously, always recommencing at the beginning with painful -persistency. - -“At your service, Don Giovanni!” called Don Domenico Oliva, as he -passed, and he removed his hat with an affable Neapolitan cordiality. -Stirred with curiosity by the strange expression of the _Signor_, he -repassed him in a short time and resaluted him with greater liberality -of gesture and affability. He was a man of very long body and very -short legs; the habitual expression of his mouth was involuntarily -shaped for derision. The people of Pescara called him “Culinterra.” - -“At your service!” he repeated. - -Don Giovanni, in whom a venomous wrath was beginning to ferment -which the laughter of the fig-eaters and the trills of the blackbird -irritated, at his second salute turned his back fiercely and moved -away, fully persuaded that those salutes were meant for taunts. - -Don Domenico, astonished, followed him with these words: - -“But, Don Giovà! ... are you angry ... but....” - -Don Giovanni did not listen. He walked on with quick steps toward his -home. The fruit-sellers and the blacksmiths along the road gazed and -could not understand the strange behaviour of these two men, breathless -and dripping with perspiration under the noonday sun. - -Having arrived at his door, Don Giovanni, scarcely stopping to knock, -turned like a serpent, yellow and green with rage, and cried: - -“Don Domè, oh Don Domè, I will hit you!” With this threat, he entered -his house and closed the door violently behind him. - -Don Domenico, dumbfounded, stood for a time speechless. Then he -retraced his steps, wondering what could account for this behaviour, -when Matteo Verdura, one of the fig-eaters, called: - -“Come here! Come here! I have a great bit of news to tell you.” - -“What news?” asked the man of the long spine, as he approached. - -“Don’t you know about it?” - -“About what?” - -“Ah! Ah! Then you haven’t heard yet?” - -“Heard what?” - -Verdura fell to laughing and the other cobblers imitated him. -Spontaneously all of them shook with the same rasping and inharmonious -mirth, differing only with the personality of each man. - -“Buy three cents’ worth of figs and I will tell you.” - -Don Domenico, who was niggardly, hesitated slightly, but curiosity -conquered him. - -“Very well, here it is.” - -Verdura called a woman and had her heap up the fruit on a plate. Then -he said: - -“That signora who lived up there, Donna Violetta, do you remember...? -That one of the theatre, do you remember...?” - -“Well?” - -“She has made off this morning. Crash!” - -“Indeed?” - -“Indeed, Don Domè.” - -“Ah, now I understand!” exclaimed Don Domenico, who was a subtle man -and cruelly malicious. - -Then, as he wished to revenge himself for the offence given him by Don -Giovanni and also to make up for the three cents expended for the news, -he went immediately to the _casino_ in order to divulge the secret and -to enlarge upon it. - -The “casino,” a kind of café, stood immersed in shadow, and up from -its tables sprinkled with water, arose a singular odour of dust and -musk. There snored Doctor Punzoni, relaxed upon a chair, with his arms -dangling. The Baron Cappa, an old soul, full of affection for lame dogs -and tender girls, nodded discreetly over a newspaper. Don Ferdinando -Giordano moved little flags over a card representing the battlefields -of the Franco-Prussian war. Don Settimio de Marinis appraised with -Doctor Fiocca the works of Pietro Mettastasio, not without many vocal -explosions and a certain flowery eloquency in the use of poetical -expressions. The notary Gaiulli, not knowing with whom to play, -shuffled the cards of his game alone, and laid them out in a row on the -table. Don Paolo Seccia sauntered around the billiard table with steps -calculated to assist the digestion. - -Don Domenico Oliva entered with so much vehemence, that all turned -toward him except Doctor Panzoni, who still remained in the embrace of -slumber. - -“Have you heard? Have you heard?” - -Don Domenico was so anxious to tell the news, and so breathless, that -at first he stuttered without making himself understood. All of these -gentlemen around him hung upon his words, anticipating with delight any -unusual occurrence that might enliven their noonday chatter. - -Don Paolo Seccia, who was slightly deaf in one ear, said impatiently, -“But have they tied your tongue, Don Domè?” - -Don Domenico recommenced his story at the beginning, with more calmness -and clearness. He told everything; enlarged on the rage of Don Giovanni -Ussorio; added fantastic details; grew intoxicated with his own words -as he went on. - -“Now do you see? Now do you see?” - -Doctor Panzoni, at the noise, opened his eyelids, rolling his huge -pupils still dull with sleep and still blowing through the monstrous -hairs of his nose, said or rather snorted nasally: - -“What has happened? What has happened?” - -And with much effort, bearing down on his walking stick, he raised -himself very slowly, and joined the gathering in order to hear. - -The Baron Cappa now narrated, with much saliva in his mouth, a -well-nourished story apropos of Violetta Kutufa. From the pupils of -the eyes of his intent listeners gleams flashed in turn. The greenish -eyes of Don Palo Seccia scintillated as if bathed in some exhilarating -moisture. At last the laughter burst out. - -But Doctor Panzoni, though standing, had taken refuge again in slumber; -since for him sleep, irresistible as a disease, always had its seat -within his own nostrils. - -He remained with his snores, alone in the centre of the room, his head -upon his breast, while the others scattered over the entire district to -carry the news from family to family. - -And the news, thus divulged, caused an uproar in Pescara. Toward -evening, with a fresh breeze from the sea and a crescent moon, -everybody frequented the streets and squares. The hum of voices was -infinite. The name of Violetta Kutufa was at every tongue’s end. Don -Giovanni Ussorio was not to be seen. - - -II - -Violetta Kutufa had come to Pescara in the month of January, at the -time of the Carnival, with a company of singers. She spoke of being -a Greek from the Archipelago, of having sung in a theatre at Corfu -in the presence of the Greek king, and of having made mad with love -an English admiral. She was a woman of plump figure and very white -skin. Her arms were unusually round and full of small dimples that -became pink with every change of motion; and these little dimples, -together with her rings and all of those other graces suitable for a -youthful person, helped to make her fleshiness singularly pleasing, -fresh and tantalising. The features of her face were slightly vulgar, -the eyes tan colour, full of slothfulness; her lips large and flat -as if crushed. Her nose did not suggest Greek origin; it was short, -rather straight, and with large inflated nostrils; her black hair -was luxuriant. She spoke with a soft accent, hesitating at each word, -smiling almost constantly. Her voice often became unexpectedly harsh. - -When her company arrived, the Pescaresi were frantic with expectation. -The foreign singers were lauded everywhere, for their gestures, -their gravity of movement, their costumes, and for every other -accomplishment. But the person upon whom all attention centred was -Violetta Kutufa. - -She wore a kind of dark bolero bordered with fur and held together -in front with gilt aiglettes; on her head was a species of toque, all -fur, and worn a little to one side. She walked about alone, stepping -briskly, entered the shops, treated the shop-keepers with a certain -disdain, complained of the mediocrity of their wares, left without -making a purchase, hummed with indifference. - -Everywhere, in the squares, on all of the walls large hand-bills -announced the performance of “The Countess of Amalfi.” The name of -Violetta Kutufa was resplendent in vermilion letters. The souls of the -Pescaresi kindled. At length the long looked-for evening arrived. - -The theatre was in a room of the old military hospital, at the edge -of the town near the sea. The room was low, narrow, and as long as -a corridor; the stage, of wood with painted scenery, arose a few -hands’ breadths above the floor; along the side walls was the gallery, -consisting of boards over saw-horses covered with tricoloured flags and -decorated with festoons. The curtain, a masterpiece of Cucuzzitó, son -of Cucuzzitó, depicted tragedy, comedy and music, interwoven, like the -three Graces, and flitting over a bridge under which passed the blue -stream of Pescara. The chairs for the theatre, taken from the churches, -occupied half of the pit. The benches, taken from the schools, occupied -the remaining space. - -Toward seven in the evening, the village band started its music on the -square, played until it had made the circuit of the town and at length -stopped in front of the theatre. The resounding march inspired the -souls of passers-by. The women curbed their impatience within the folds -of their beautiful silk garments. The room filled up rapidly. - -The gallery was radiant with a sparkling aureole of married and -unmarried women. Teodolinda Pomarici, a sentimental, lymphatic -elocutionist, sat near Fermina Memura, called “The Masculine.” The -Fusilli girls, arrived from Castellamare, tall maidens with very -black eyes, all clothed in a uniform, pink material, with hair braided -down their backs, laughed loudly and gesticulated. Emilia d’Annunzio -used her beautiful lion-like eyes, with an air of infinite fatigue. -Marianina Cortese made signs with her fan to Donna Rachele Profeta -who sat in front of her. Donna Rachele Bucci argued with Donna -Rachele Carabba on the subjects of speaking tables and spiritualism. -The school-mistresses Del Gado, both clothed in changeable silk -with mantillas of most antique fashion, and with diverse coiffures -glittering with brass spangles, remained silent, compunctious, almost -stunned by the novelty of this experience, almost repentant for having -come to so profane a spectacle. Costanza Lesbu coughed continuously, -shivering under her red shawl, very pale, very blond and very thin. - -In the foremost chairs of the pit sat the wealthiest citizens. Don -Giovanni Ussorio was most prominent because of his well-groomed -appearance, his splendid black and white checkered trousers, his -coat of shining wool, his quantity of false jewelry on fingers and -shirt-front. Don Antonio Brattella, a member of the Areopagus of -Marseilles, a man exhaling importance from every pore and especially -from the lobe of his left ear, which was as thick as a green apricot, -recited in a loud voice the lyric drama of Giovanni Peruzzini, and -his words as they fell from his lips acquired a certain Ciceronian -resonance. The auditors, lolling in their chairs, stirred with more or -less impatience. Dr. Panzoni wrestled all to no purpose with the wiles -of sleep, and from time to time made a noise that blended with the “la” -of the tuning instruments. - -“Pss! psss! pssss!” - -The silence in the theatre grew profound. At the lifting of the curtain -the stage was empty. The sound of a Violoncello came from the wings. -Tilde appeared and sang. Afterwards Sertorio came out and sang. After -him, a crowd of supernumeraries and friends, entered and intoned a -song. After them, Tilde drew toward a window and sang: - - “Oh how tedious the hours - To the desirous one...!” - -In the audience a slight movement was perceptible, since all felt a -love duet to be imminent. Tilde, in truth, was a first soprano, none -too young; she wore a blue costume, had a blond wig that insufficiently -covered her head, and her face, whitened with powder, resembled a raw -cutlet besprinkled with flour and partially hidden behind a hempen wig. - -Egidio came on. He was the young tenor. As he had a chest singularly -hollow and legs slightly curved, he resembled a double-handed spoon -upon which hung a calf’s head, scraped and polished like those which -one sees at times over the butcher-shops. He began: - - “Tilde! thy lips are mute, - Thy lowered glances dismay me, - Tell me, why you delay me? - Why do I see thy hand now - A-tremble? Why should that be?” - -And Tilde, with great force of sentiment, replied: - - “At such a solemn moment, how - Can you ask why of me?” - -The duet increased in tenderness. The melody of the cavalier Petrella -delighted the ears of the audience. All of the women leaned intently -over the rails of the gallery and their faces, throbbing in the green -reflection of the flags, were pallid. - - “Like a journey from paradise - Death will appear to us.” - -Tilde appeared; and now entered, singing, the Duke Carnioli, who was a -man fat, fierce, and long haired enough, to be suited to the part of -baritone. He sang with many flourishes, running over the syllables, -sometimes moreover boldly suppressing. - - “Dost thou not know the conjugal chain - Is like lead on the feet?” - -But, when in the song, he mentioned at length the Countess of Amalfi, -a long applause broke from the audience. The Countess was desired, -demanded. - -Don Giovanni Ussorio asked of Don Antonio Brattella: - -“When is she coming?” - -Don Antonio, in a lofty tone, replied: - -“Oh! Dio mio, Don Giovà! Don’t you know? In the second act! In the -second act!” - -The speech of Sertorio was listened to with half-impatience. The -curtain fell in the midst of weak applause. Thus began the triumphs -of Violetta Kutufa. A prolonged murmur ran through the pit, through -the gallery, and increased when the audience heard the blows of the -scene-shifters’ hammers behind the curtain. That invisible hustling -increased their expectation. - -When the curtain went up a kind of spell held the audience in its grip. -The scenic effect was marvellous. Three illuminated arches stretched -themselves in perspective, and the middle one bordered a fantastic -garden. - -Several pages were dispersed here and there, and were bowing. The -Countess of Amalfi, clothed in red velvet, with her regal train, her -arms and shoulders bare, her face ruddy, entered with agitated step and -sang: - - “It was an evening of ravishment, which still - Fills my soul....” - -Her voice was uneven, sometimes twanging, but always powerful and -penetrating. It produced on the audience a singular effect after the -whine of Tilde. Immediately the audience was divided into two factions; -the women were for Tilde, the men for Leonora. - - “He who resists my charms - Has not easy matter...!” - -Leonora possessed in her personality, in her gestures, her movements, -a sauciness that intoxicated and kindled those unmarried men who were -accustomed to the flabby Venuses of the lanes of Sant’ Agostino, and to -those husbands who were wearied with conjugal monotony. - -All gazed at the singer’s every motion, at her large white shoulders, -where, with the movements of her round arms, two dimples tried to -smile. - -At the end of her solo, applause broke forth with a crash. Later, the -swooning of the Countess, her dissimulation before the Duke Carnioli -(the leader of the duet), the whole scene aroused applause. The heat -in the room had become intense; in the galleries fans fluttered -confusedly, and among the fans the women’s faces appeared and -disappeared. - -When the Countess leaned against a column in an attitude of sentimental -contemplation, illuminated by the calcium light, and Egidio sang his -gentle love song, Don Antonio Brattella called loudly, “She is great!” - -Don Giovanni Ussorio, with a sudden impulse, fell to clapping his hands -alone. The others shouted at him to be silent, as they wished to hear. -Don Giovanni became confused. - - “All is for love, everything speaks: - The moon, the zephyrs, the stars, the sea....” - -The heads of the listeners swayed with the rhythm of this melody of -the Petrella style, even though the voice of Egidio was indifferent; -and even though the light was glaring and yellowish their eyes drank in -the scene. But when, after this last contrast of passion and seduction, -the Countess of Amalfi, walking toward the garden, took up the melody -alone, the melody that still vibrated in the minds of all, the delight -of the audience had risen to such a height that many raised their heads -and inclined them slightly backward as if to trill together with the -siren, who was now concealed among the flowers. She sang: - - “The bark is now ready ... ah, come beloved! - Is not Love calling ... to live is to love?” - -At this climax, Violetta Kutufa made a complete conquest of Don -Giovanni Ussorio, who beside himself, seized with a species of -passionate, musical madness, clamoured continuously: - -“Brava! Brava! Brava!” - -Don Paolo Seccia called loudly: - -“Oh, see here! see here! Ussorio has gone mad for her!” - -All the women gazed at Ussorio, amazed and confused. The -school-mistresses Del Gado shook their rosaries under their mantillas. -Teodolinda Pomarici remained ecstatic. Only the Fasilli girls, in -their red paint, preserved their vivacity, and chattered, shaking their -serpentine braids with every movement. - -In the third act, neither the dying sighs of Tilde, whom the women -defended, nor the rebuffs of Sertorio and Carnioli, nor the songs -of the chorus, nor the monologue of the melancholy Egidio, nor the -joyfulness of the dames and cavaliers, held any power to distract the -public from the preceding voluptuousness. - -“Leonora! Leonora! Leonora!” they cried. - -Leonora reappeared on the arm of the Count of Lara and descended from a -pavilion. Thus she reached the very culmination of her triumph. - -She wore now a violet gown, trimmed with silver ribbons and enormous -clasps. She turned to the pit, while with her foot she gave a quick, -backward stroke to her train, and exposed in the act her instep. - -Then, mingling with her words, a thousand charms and a thousand -affectations, she sang half-jestingly, - - “I am the butterfly that sports within the flowers....” - -The public grew almost delirious at this well-known song. - -The Countess of Amalfi, on feeling mount up to her the ardent -admiration of the men, became intoxicated, multiplied her seductive -gestures, and raised her voice to the highest altitude of which she -was capable. Her fleshly throat, uncovered, marked with the necklace of -Venus, shook with trills. - - “I, the bee, who alone on the honey is nourished, - Am inebriate under the blue of the sky....” - -Don Giovanni Ussorio stared with so much intensity, that his eyes -seemed to start from their sockets. The Baron Cappa was equally -enchanted. Don Antonio Brattella, a member of the Areopagus of -Marseilles, swelled and swelled, until at length burst from him the -exclamation: - -“Colossal!” - - -III - -Thus, Violetta Kutufa made a conquest of Pescara. For more than a -month performances of the opera of the Cavalier Petrella, continued -with ever increasing popularity. The theatre was always full, even -packed. Applause for Leonora broke out furiously at the end of every -song. A singular phenomenon occurred; the entire population of Pescara -seemed seized with a species of musical mania; every Pescarenican soul -became inclosed in the magic circle of one single melody, that of the -butterfly that sports among the flowers. - -In every corner, at every hour, in every way, in every possible -variation, on every instrument, with an astounding persistency, -that melody was repeated; and the person of Violetta Kutufa became -the symbol of those musical strains, just as—God pardon the -comparison—the harmony of the organ suggests the soul of paradise. - -The musical and lyrical comprehension, which in the southern people -is instinctive, expanded at this time without limit. The street gamins -whistled everywhere; all the amateur musicians put forth their efforts, -Donna Lisitta Menuma played the tune on the harpsichord from dawn -until dusk, Don Antonio Brattella played it on the flute, Don Domenico -Quaquino, on the clarionette, Don Giacomo Palusci, the priest, on an -old rococo spinet, Don Vincenzio Rapagneta on his violoncello, Don -Vincenzio Ranieri on the trumpet, Don Nicola d’Annunzio, on his violin. -From the towers of Sant’ Agostino to the Arsenal, and from Pescheria -to Dogana the multifold sounds mingled together and became a discord. -In the early hours of the afternoon the district had the appearance of -some large hospital for incurable madness. Even the grinders sharpening -knives on their wheels tried to maintain a rhythm in the shriek of the -metal and the whetstone. - -As it was the time of the carnival, a public festival was given in the -theatre. Shrove Thursday, at ten in the evening, the room blazed with -wax-candles, smelt strongly of myrtle and glittered with mirrors. The -masked revellers entered in crowds. Punchinellos predominated. From a -platform enveloped in green draperies, marked with constellations of -stars of silver paper, the orchestra began to play and Don Giovanni -Ussorio entered. - -He was dressed like a grandee of Spain, and had the appearance of a -very fat Count of Lara. A blue cap with a long, white plume covered his -baldness, a short coat of red velvet garnished with gold rippled over -his shoulders. This costume accentuated the prominence of his stomach -and the skinniness of his legs. His locks, shining with cosmetic oils, -resembled an artificial fringe bound around his cap, and they were -blacker than usual. - -An impertinent Punchinello, on passing him, cried in a disguised voice: - -“How funny!” - -He made a gesture of horror, so clownish, at this metamorphosis of -“Don Giovanni,” that much laughter burst forth from everyone in the -vicinity. La Cicarina, all red paint under the black hood of her -domino, like a beautiful flower of the flesh, laughed sonorously, while -she tripped with two ragged harlequins. - -Don Giovanni, filled with anger, lost himself in the crowd and sought -Violetta Kutufa. The sarcasms of the other revellers pursued and -wounded him. Suddenly he encountered another grandee of Spain, another -count of Lara. He recognised Don Antonio Brattella and, at this, -received a thrust in the heart. Already, between these two men, rivalry -had broken loose. - -“How is the medlar?” Don Donato Brandimarte screamed venomously, -alluding to the fleshy protuberance that the member of the Areopagus of -Marseilles had on his left ear. Don Giovanni took a fierce pleasure in -this insult. - -The rivals met face to face, scanned each other from head to foot, and -kept their respective stations, the one always slightly withdrawn from -the other, as they wandered through the crowd. - -At eleven, an agitated flutter passed over the crowd. Violetta Kutufa -entered. She was dressed in Mephistophelian costume, in a black domino -with long scarlet hood, and with a scarlet mask over her face. The -round, swan-like chin, the thick red mouth, shone through her thin -veil. The eyes, lengthened and rendered slightly oblique because of the -mask, seemed to smile. - -All instantaneously recognised her and almost all made way for her; Don -Antonio Brattella advanced caressingly on one side. On the other came -Don Giovanni; Violetta Kutufa made a hasty survey of the rings that -adorned the fingers of the latter, then took the arm of Brattella. - -She laughed and walked with a certain sprightly undulation of the hips. -Brattella, while talking to her in his customary, silly, vainglorious -manner, called her “Contessa,” and interspersed their conversation with -the lyrical verses of Giovanni Peruzzini. - -She laughed and leaned toward him, and pressed his arm suggestively, -since the weaknesses of this ugly, vain man amused her. At a certain -point, Brattella, when repeating the words of the Count of Lara in the -melodrama of Petrella, said or rather sang submissively: - - “Shall I then hope?” - -Violetta Kutufa answered in the words of Leonora: - - “Who forbids you...? Good-bye.” - -Then, seeing Don Giovanni not far away, she detached herself from this -bewitching chevalier, and fastened upon the other, who already for some -time had pursued with eyes full of envy and dislike, the windings of -this couple through the crowd of dancers. - -Don Giovanni trembled like a youth under the glance of his first -sweetheart. Then, seized with a superabundant pride, he drew the opera -singer into the dance. He whirled breathlessly around, with his nose -against the woman’s chest, his cloak floating out behind, his plume -fluttering to the breeze, streams of perspiration mixed with cosmetic -oils filtering down his temples. - -Exhausted, he stopped at length. He reeled with giddiness. Two hands -supported him and a sneering voice whispered in his ear, “Don Giovà, -stop and recover your breath for a minute!” - -The voice was that of Brattella, who in turn drew the fair lady into -the dance. He danced, holding his left arm arched over his hips, -beating time with his feet, endeavouring to appear as light as a -feather, with motions meant to be gracious, but instead so idiotic, and -with grimaces so monkey-like, that everywhere the laughter and mockery -of the Punchinellos began to pelt down upon him. - -“Pay a cent to see it, gentlemen!” - -“Here is the bear of Poland that dances like a Christian! Gaze on him, -gentlemen!” - -“Have a medlar? Have a medlar?” - -“Oh, see! See! An orangoutang!” - -Don Antonio Brattella controlled himself with much dignity, still -continuing his dance. Other couples wheeled around him. - -The room was filled with all kinds of people, and in the midst of the -confusion the candles burned on, with their reddish flames lighting up -the festoons of immortelles. All of this fluttering reflected itself in -the mirrors. - -La Ciccarina, the daughter of Montagna, the daughter of Suriano, the -sisters Montarano, appeared and disappeared, while enlivening the crowd -with the beams of their fresh country loveliness. Donna Teodolinda -Pomarici, tall and thin, clothed in blue satin, like a madonna, -permitted herself to be borne about in a state of transport as her -hair, loosened from its bands, waved upon her shoulders. Costanzella -Coppe, the most agile and indefatigable of the dancers, and the palest, -flew from one extremity of the room to the other in a flash; Amalia -Solofra, with hair almost aflame in colour, clothed like a rustic, -her audacity almost unequalled, had her silk waist supported by a -single band that outlined the connecting point of her arm; and during -the dance, at intervals, one could see dark stains under her armpits. -Amalia Gagliano, a beautiful, blue-eyed creature, in the costume of -a sorceress, resembled an empty coffin walking vertically. A species -of intoxication held sway over all these girls. They were fermenting -in the warm, dense air, like adulterated wine. The laurel and the -immortelles gave out a singular odour, almost ecclesiastical. - -The music ceased, now all mounted the stairs leading to the -refreshment-room. Don Giovanni Ussorio came to invite Violetta to -the banquet. Brattella, to show that he had reached a state of close -intimacy with the opera-singer, leaned toward her and whispered -something in her ear, and then fell to laughing about it. Don Giovanni -no longer heeded his rival. - -“Come, Contessa,” he said, with much ceremony, as he offered his arm. - -Violetta accepted. Both mounted the stairs slowly with Don Antonio in -the rear. - -“I am in love with you!” Don Giovanni hazarded, trying to instil -into his voice that note of passion, rendered familiar to him by the -principal lover of a dramatic company of Chieti. - -Violetta Kutufa did not answer. She was amusing herself by watching the -concourse of people near the booth of Andreuccio, who was distributing -refreshments, while shouting the prices in a loud voice as if at a -country-fair. Andreuccio had an enormous head with polished top, a -nose that curved wondrously over the projection of his lower lip; he -resembled one of those large paper lanterns in the shape of a human -head. The revellers ate and drank with a bestial greediness, scattering -on their clothes crumbs of sweet pastry and drops of liquor. On seeing -Don Giovanni, Andreuccio cried, “Signor, at your service.” - -Don Giovanni had much wealth, and was a widower without blood -relations; for which reasons everybody was desirous to be of service to -him and to flatter him. - -“A little supper,” he answered. “And take care...!” He made an -expressive sign to indicate that the thing must be excellent and rare. - -Violetta Kutufa sat down, and with a languid effort removed her mask -from her face and opened her domino a little. Her face, surrounded by -the scarlet hood, and animated with warmth, seemed even more saucy. -Through the opening of the domino one saw a species of pink tights that -gave a suggestion of living flesh. - -“Your health!” exclaimed Don Pompeo Nervi, lingering before the -well-furnished table, and seating himself at length, allured by a plate -of juicy lobsters. - -Then Don Tito de Sieri arrived and took a place without ceremony; -also Don Giustino Franco, together with Don Pasquale Virgilio and Don -Federico Sicoli appeared. The group of guests at the table continued to -swell. After much tortuous tracing and retracing of his steps, even Don -Antonio Brattella came finally. These were, for the most part, habitual -guests of Don Giovanni; they formed about him a kind of adulatory -court, gave their votes to him in the town elections, laughed at every -witticism of his, and called him by way of nickname, “The Director.” -Don Giovanni introduced them all to Violetta Kutufa. These parasites -set themselves to eating with their voracious mouths bent over their -plates. - -Every word, every sentence of Don Antonio Brattella was listened to -in hostile silence. Every word, every sentence of Don Giovanni, was -recognised with complacent smiles and nods of the head. Don Giovanni -triumphed in the centre of his court. Violetta Kutufa treated him with -affability, now that she felt the force of his gold; and now, entirely -free from her hood, with her locks slightly dishevelled on forehead -and neck, she indulged in her usual playfulness, somewhat noisy and -childish. Around them the crowd moved restlessly. - -In the centre of it, three or four harlequins walked on the pavement -with their hands and feet, and rolled like great beetles. Amalia -Solofra, standing upon a chair, with her long arms bare to the elbows, -shook a tambourine. Around her a couple hopped in rustic fashion, -giving out short cries, while a group of youths stood looking on with -eager eyes. At intervals, from the lower room ascended the voice of Don -Ferdinando Giordano, who was ordering the quadrille with great bravado. - -“Balance! Forward and back! Swing!” - -Little by little Violetta Kutufa’s table became full to overflowing. -Don Nereo Pica, Don Sebastiano Pica, Don Grisostomo Troilo and others -of this Ussorian court arrived; even to Don Cirillo d’Amelio, Don -Camillo d’Angelo and Don Rocco Mattace. - -Many strangers stood about with stupid expressions, and watched them -eat. Women were envious. From time to time a burst of rough laughter -arose from the table, and from time to time corks popped and the foam -of wine overflowed. - -Don Giovanni took pleasure in splashing his guests, especially the -bald ones, in order to make Violetta laugh. The parasites raised their -flushed faces, and, still eating, smiled at their “Director” from under -the foamy rain. But Don Antonio Brattella, having taken offence, made -as if to go. All of the feasters opposite him gave a low cry like a -bark. - -Violetta called, “Stay.” Don Antonio remained. After this he gave a -toast rhyming in quintains. Don Federico Sicoli, half intoxicated, -gave a toast likewise in honour of Violetta and of Don Giovanni, in -which he went so far as to speak of “divine shape” and “jolly times.” -He declaimed in a loud voice. He was a man long, thin and greenish in -colour. He lived by composing verses of Saints’ days and laudations for -all ecclesiastical festivals. Now, in the midst of his drunkenness, the -rhymes fell from his lips without order, old rhymes and new ones. At -a certain point, no longer able to balance on his legs, he bent like a -candle softened by heat and was silent. - -Violetta Kutufa was overcome with laughter. The crowd jammed around the -table as if at a spectacle. - -“Let us go,” Violetta said at this moment, putting on her mask and hood. - -Don Giovanni, at the culmination of his amorous enthusiasm, all red and -perspiring, took her arm. The parasites drank the last drop and then -arose confusedly behind the couple. - - -IV - -A few days after, Violetta Kutufa was inhabiting an apartment in one -of Don Giovanni’s houses on the town square, and much hearsay floated -through Pescara. The company of singers departed from Brindisi without -the Countess of Amalfi. In the solemn, quiet Lenten days, the Pescaresi -took a modest delight in gossip and calumny. Every day a new tale made -the circuit of the city, and every day a new creation arose from the -popular imagination. - -Violetta Kutufa’s house was in the neighbourhood of Sant’ Agostino, -opposite the Brina palace and adjoining the palace of Memma. Every -evening the windows were illuminated and the curious assembled beneath -them. - -Violetta received visitors in a room tapestried with French fabrics on -which were depicted in French style various mythological subjects. Two -round-bodied vases of the seventeenth century occupied the two sides -of the chimney-piece. A yellow sofa extended along the opposite wall -between two curtains of similar material. On the chimney-piece stood a -plaster Venus and a small Venus di Medici between two gilt candelabra. -On the shelves rested various porcelain vases, a bunch of artificial -flowers under a crystal globe, a basket of wax fruit, a Swiss cottage, -a block of alum, several sea-shells and a cocoanut. - -At first her guests had been reluctant, through a sense of modesty, -to mount the stairs of the opera singer. Later, little by little, they -had overcome all hesitation. Even the most serious men made from time -to time their appearance in the _salon_ of Violetta Kutufa; even men -of family; and they went there almost with trepidation, with furtive -delight, as if they were about to commit a slight crime against their -wives, as if they were about to enter a place of soothing perdition -and sin. They united in twos and threes, formed alliances for greater -security and justification, laughed among themselves and nudged one -another in turn for encouragement. Then the stream of light from -the windows, the strains from the piano, the song of the Countess of -Amalfi, the voices and applause of her guests excited them. They were -seized with a sudden enthusiasm, threw out their chests, held up their -heads with youthful pride and mounted resolutely, deciding that after -all one had to taste of life and cull opportunities for enjoyment. - -But Violetta’s receptions had an air of great propriety, were almost -formal. She welcomed the new arrivals with courtesy and offered -them syrups in water and cordials. The newcomers remained slightly -astonished, did not know quite how to behave, where to sit, what to -say. The conversations turned upon the weather, on political news, -on the substance of the Lenten sermons, on other matter-of-fact and -tedious topics. - -Don Giuseppe Postiglioni spoke of the pretensions of the Prussian -Prince Hohenzollern to the throne of Spain; Don Antonio Brattella -delighted in discoursing on the immortality of the soul and other -inspiring matters. The doctrine of Brattella was stupendous. He spoke -slowly and emphatically, from time to time, pronouncing a difficult -word rapidly and eating up the syllables. To quote an authentic -report, one evening, on taking a wand and bending it, he said: “Oh, -how fleible!” for flexible; another evening, pointing to his plate and -making excuses for not being able to play the flute, he vouchsafed: “My -entire p-l-ate is inflamed!” and still another evening, on indicating -the shape of a vase, he said that in order to make children take -medicine, it was necessary to scatter with some sweet substance the -_origin_ of the glass. - -At intervals Don Paolo Seccia, incredulous soul, on hearing singular -matters recounted, jumped up with: “But Don Antò, what do you mean to -say?” - -Don Antonio repeated his remark with a hand on his heart and a -challenging expression, “My testimony is ocular! Entirely ocular.” One -evening he came, walking with great effort and carefully, painstakingly -prepared to sit down; he had “a cold, the length of the spine!” Another -evening he arrived with the right cheek slightly bruised; he had fallen -“underhand”; in other words, he had slipped and struck his face on the -ground. Thus were the conversations of these gatherings made up. Don -Giovanni Ussorio, always present, had the airs of a proprietor; every -so often he approached Violetta with ostentation and murmured something -familiarly in her ear. Long intervals of silence occurred, during which -Don Grisostomo Troilo blew his nose and Don Federico Sicoli coughed -like a consumptive, holding both hands to his mouth and then shaking -them. - -The opera-singer revived the conversation with accounts of her -triumphs at Corfu, Ancona and Bari. Little by little she grew animated, -abandoned herself to her imagination; with discreet reserve she spoke -of princely “_amours_,” of royal favours, of romantic adventures; she -thus evoked all of those confused recollections of novels read at other -times, and trusted liberally to the credulity of her listeners. Don -Giovanni at these times turned his eyes upon her full of inquietude, -almost bewildered; moreover experiencing a singular irritation that had -an indistinct resemblance to jealousy. Violetta at length ended with a -stupid smile and the conversation languished anew. - -Then Violetta went to the piano and sang. All listened with profound -attention; at the end they applauded. Then Don Brattella arose with -the flute. An immeasurable melancholy took hold of his listeners at -that sound, a kind of swooning of body and soul. They rested with heads -lowered almost to their breasts in attitudes of sufferance. At last all -left, one after the other. As they took the hand of Violetta a slight -scent from the strong perfume of musk remained on their fingers, and -this excited them further. Then, once more in the street, they reunited -in groups, holding loose discourse. They grew inflamed, lowered their -voices and were silent if anyone drew near. Softly they withdrew from -beneath the Brina palace to another part of the square. There they -set themselves to watching Violetta’s windows, still illuminated. -Across the panes passed indistinct shadows; at a certain time the -light disappeared, traversed two or three rooms and stopped in the -last window. Shortly, a figure leaned out to close the shutters. Those -spying thought they recognised in it the figure of Don Giovanni. They -still continued to discuss beneath the stars and from time to time -laughed, while giving one another little nudges, and gesticulating. -Don Antonio Brattella, perhaps from the reflection of the city-lamps, -seemed a greenish colour. The parasites, little by little in their -discourse spit out a certain animosity toward the opera-singer, who -was plucking so gracefully their lord of good times. They feared lest -those generous feasts might be in peril; already Don Giovanni was more -sparing of his invitations. - -“It will be necessary to open the eyes of the poor fellow. An -adventuress! Bah! She is capable of making him marry her. Why not? And -then what a scandal!” - -Don Pompeo Nervi, shaking his large calf’s head, assented: - -“You are right! You are right! We must bethink ourselves.” - -Don Nereo Pica, “The Cat,” proposed a way, conjured up schemes; this -pious man, accustomed to the secret and laborious skirmishes of the -sacristy was crafty in the sowing of discord. - -Thus these complainers treated together and their fat speeches -only returned again into their bitter mouths. As it was spring the -foliage of the public gardens smelt and trembled before them with -white blossoms and through the neighbouring paths they saw, about to -disappear, the figures of loosely-dressed prostitutes. - - -V - -When, therefore, Don Giovanni Ussorio, after having heard from Rosa -Catana of the departure of Violetta Kutufa, re-entered his widower’s -house and heard his parrot humming the air of the butterfly and the -bee, he was seized by a new and more profound discouragement. - -In the entrance a girdle of sunlight penetrated boldly and through -the iron grating one saw the tranquil garden full of heliotropes. His -servant slept upon a bench with a straw hat pulled down over his face. - -Don Giovanni did not wake the servant. He mounted the stairs with -difficulty, his eyes fixed upon the steps, pausing every now and then -to mutter: “Oh, what a thing to happen! Oh, oh, what luck!” - -Having reached his room he threw himself upon the bed and with his -mouth against the pillows, began again to weep. Later he arose; the -silence was deep and the trees of the garden as tall as the window -waved slightly in the stillness. There was nothing of the unusual in -the things about him; he almost wondered at this. - -He fell to thinking and remained a long time calling to mind the -positions, the gestures, the words, the slightest motions of the -deserter. He saw her form as clearly as if she were present. At every -recollection his grief increased until at length a kind of dulness -benumbed his mind. He remained sitting on the bed, almost motionless, -his eyes red, his forehead blackened from the colouring matter of his -hair mixed with perspiration, his face furrowed with wrinkles that -had suddenly become more evident; he had aged ten years in an hour, a -change both amusing and pathetic. - -Don Grisostomo Troilo, who had heard the news, arrived. He was a man -of advanced age, of short stature and with a round, swollen face from -which spread out sharp, thin whiskers, well waxed and resembling the -two wings of a bird. He said: - -“Now, Giovà, what is the matter?” - -Don Giovanni did not answer, but shook his shoulders as if to repel all -sympathy. Don Grisostomo then began to reprove him benevolently, never -speaking of Violetta Kutufa. - -In came Don Cirillo d’Amelio with Don Nereo Pica. Both, on entering, -showed almost an air of triumph. - -“Now you have seen for yourself, Don Giovà! We told you so! We told -you so!” they cried. Both had nasal voices and a cadence acquired from -the habit of singing with the organ, because they belonged to the choir -of the Holy Sacrament. They began to attack the character of Violetta -without mercy. She did this and that and the other thing, they said. - -Don Giovanni, outraged, made from time to time a motion as if he would -not hear such slanders, but the two continued. Now, also, Don Pasquale -Virgilio arrived, with Don Pompeo Nervi, Don Federico Sicoli, Don Tito -de Sieri; almost all of the parasites came in a group. Supporting one -another they became ferocious. Did he not know that Violetta Kutufa had -abandoned herself to Tom, Dick and Harry...? Indeed she had! Indeed! -They laid bare the exact particulars, the exact places. - -Now Don Giovanni heard with eyes afire, greedy to know, invaded by a -terrible curiosity. These revelations instead of disgusting him, fed -his desire. Violetta seemed to him more enticing, even more beautiful; -and he felt himself inwardly bitten by a raging jealousy that blended -with his grief. Presently the woman appeared in his mind’s eye -associated with a certain soft relaxation. That picture made him giddy. - -“Oh Dio! Oh Dio! Oh! Oh!” He commenced to weep again. Those present -looked at one another and restrained their laughter. In truth the grief -of that man; fleshy, bald, deformed, expressed itself so ridiculously -that it seemed unreal. - -“Go away now!” Don Giovanni blubbered through his tears. - -Don Grisostomo Troilo set the example; the others followed him and -chattered as they passed down the stairs. - -Toward evening the prostrated man revived little by little. A woman’s -voice called at his door: “May I come in, Don Giovanni?” - -He recognised Rosa Catana’s voice and experienced suddenly an -instinctive joy. He ran to let her in. Rosa Catana appeared in the dusk -of the room. - -“Come in! Come in!” he cried. He made her sit down beside him, had -her talk to him, asked her a thousand questions. He seemed to suffer -less on hearing that familiar voice in which, under the spell of an -illusion, he found some quality of Violetta’s voice. He took her hands -and cried: - -“You helped her to dress! Did you not?” - -He caressed those rugged hands, closing his eyes and wandering -slightly in his mind on the subject of those abundant, unbound locks -that so many times he had touched with his hands. Rosa at first -did not understand. She believed this to be some sudden passion of -Don Giovanni, and withdrew her hands gently, while she spoke in an -ambiguous way and laughed. But Don Giovanni murmured: - -“No, no!... Stay! You combed her, did you not? You bathed her, did you -not?” - -He fell to kissing Rosa’s hands, those hands that had combed, bathed -and clothed Violetta. He stammered, while kissing them, composed verses -so strange that Rosa could scarcely refrain from laughter. But at last -she understood and with feminine perception forced herself to remain -serious, while she summed up the advantages that might ensue from this -foolish comedy. She grew docile, let him caress her, let him call her -Violetta, made use of all that experience acquired from peeping through -key-holes many times at her mistress’s door; she even sought to make -her voice more sweet. - -In the room one could scarcely see them. Through the open windows -a red reflection entered and the trees in the garden, almost black, -twisted and turned in the wind. From the sloughs around the arsenal -came the hoarse croak of the frogs. The noises of the city street were -indistinct. - -Don Giovanni drew the woman to his knees, and, completely confused -as if he had swallowed some very’ strong liquor, murmured a thousand -childish nothings and babbled on without end, drawing her face close to -his. - -“Ah, darling little Violetta!” he whispered. “Sweetheart! Don’t -go away, dear...! If you go away your Nini will die, Poor Nini...! -Ban-ban-ban-bannn!” - -Thus he continued stupidly, as he had done before with the -opera-singer. Rosa Catana patiently offered him slight caresses, as -if he were a very sick, perverted child; she took his head and pressed -it against her shoulder, kissed his swollen, weeping eyes, stroked his -bald crown, rearranged his oiled locks. - - -VI - -Thus, Rosa Catana, little by little, earned her inheritance from Don -Giovanni Ussorio, who, in the March of 1871, died of paralysis. - - - - -III - -_THE RETURN OF TURLENDANA_ - - -The group was walking along the seashore. Down the hills and over the -country Spring was coming again. The humble strip of land bordering the -sea was already green; the various fields were quite distinctly marked -by the springing vegetation, and every mound was crowned with budding -trees. The north wind shook these trees, and its breath caused many -flowers to fall. At a short distance the heights seemed to be covered -with a colour between pink and violet; for an instant the view seemed -to tremble and grow pale like a ripple veiling the clear surface of a -pool, or like a faded painting. - -The sea stretched out its broad expanse serenely along the coast, -bathed by the moonlight, and toward the north taking on the hue of a -turquois of Persia, broken here and there by the darker tint of the -currents winding over its surface. - -Turlendana, who had lost the recollection of these places through a -long absence, and who in his long peregrinations had forgotten the -sentiments of his native land, was striding along with the tired, -regular step of haste, looking neither backward nor around him. - -When the camel would stop at a tuft of wild grass, Turlendana would -utter a brief, hoarse cry of incitement. The huge reddish quadruped -would slowly raise his head, chewing the morsel heavily between his -jaws. - -“Hu, Barbara!” - -The she-ass, the little snowy white Susanna, protesting against the -tormenting of the monkey, from time to time would bray lamentingly, -asking to be freed of her rider. - -But the restless Zavali gave her no peace; as though in a frenzy, with -quick, short gestures of wrath, she would run over the back of the -beast, jump playfully on her head, get hold of her large ears; then -would lift her tail and shake the hairs, hold it up and look through -the hairs, scratch poor Susanna viciously with her nails, then lift -her hands to her mouth and move her jaws as though chewing, grimacing -frightfully as she did so. Then suddenly, she would jump back to her -seat, holding in her hands her foot, twisted like the root of a bush, -and sit with her orange coloured eyes, filled with wonder and stupor, -fixed on the sea, while wrinkles would appear on her head, and her thin -pinkish ears would tremble nervously. Without warning she would make a -malicious gesture, and recommence her play. - -“Hu, Barbara!” - -The camel heard and started to walk again. - -When the group reached the willow tree woods, at the mouth of the River -Pescara, figures could be seen upon its right bank, above the masts of -the ships anchored in the docks of Bandiera. Turlendana stopped to get -a drink of water from the river. - -The river of his native place carried to him the peaceful air of the -sea. Its banks, covered with fluvial plains, lay stretched out as -though resting from their recent work of fecundity. The silence was -profound. The cobwebs shone tranquilly in the sun like mirrors framed -by the crystal of the sea. The seaweed bent in the wind, showing its -green or white sides. - -“Pescara!” said Turlendana, with an accent of curiosity and -recognition, stopping still to look at the view. - -Then, going down to the shore where the gravel was clean, he kneeled -down to drink, carrying the water to his mouth in his curled up palm. -The camel, bending his long neck, drank with slow, regular draughts. -The she-ass, too, drank from the stream, while the monkey, imitating -the man, made a cup of her hands, which were violet coloured like -unripe India figs. - -“Hu, Barbara!” The camel heard and ceased to drink. The water dripped -unheeded from his mouth onto his chest; his white gums and yellowish -teeth showed between his open lips. - -Through the path marked across the wood by the people of the sea, -the little group proceeded on its way. The sun was setting when they -reached the Arsenale of Rampigna. Turlendana asked of a sailor who was -walking beside the brick parapet: - -“Is that Pescara?” - -The sailor, astonished at the sight of the strange beasts, answered -Turlendana’s question: - -“It is that,” and left his work to follow the stranger. - -The sailor was soon joined by others. Soon a crowd of curious people -had gathered and were following Turlendana, who went calmly on his -way, unmindful of the comments of the people. When they reached the -boat-bridge, the camel refused to pass over. - -“Hu, Barbara! Hu, hu!” Turlendana cried impatiently, urging him on, and -shaking the rope of the halter by which he led the animal. But Barbara -obstinately lay down upon the ground, and stretched his head out in the -dust very comfortable, showing no intention of moving. - -The people jesting gathered about, having overcome their first -amazement, and cried in a chorus: - -“Barbara! Barbara!” - -As they were somewhat familiar with monkeys, having seen some which -the sailors had brought home, together with parrots, from their long -cruises, they were teasing Zavali in a thousand different ways, handing -her large greenish almonds, which the monkey would open, gluttonously -devouring the sweet fresh meat. - -After much urging and persistent shouting, Turlendana succeeded -in conquering the stubbornness of the camel, and that enormous -architecture of bones and skin rose staggering to his feet in the midst -of the instigating crowd. - -From all directions soldiers and sailors flocked over the boat bridge -to witness the spectacle. Far behind the mountain of Gran Sasso the -setting sun irradiated the spring sky with a vivid rosy light, and -from the damp earth, the water of the river, the seas, and the ponds, -the moisture had arisen. A rosy glow tinted the houses, the sails, -the masts, the plants, and the whole landscape, and the figures of the -people, acquiring a sort of transparency, grew obscure, the lines of -their contour wavering in the fading light. - -Under the weight of the caravan the bridge creaked on its tar-smeared -boats like a very large floating lighter. Turlendana, halting in the -middle of the bridge, brought the camel also to a stop; stretching -high above the heads of the crowd, it stood breathing against the wind, -slowly moving its head like a fictitious serpent covered with hair. - -The name of the beast had spread among the curious people, and all of -them, from an innate love of sensation, and filled with the exuberance -of spirits inspired by the sweetness of the sunset and the season of -the year, cried out gleefully: - -“Barbara! Barbara!” At the sound of this applauding cry and the -well-meant clamour of the crowd, Turlendana, who was leaning against -the chest of his camel, felt a kindly emotion of satisfaction spring up -in his heart. - -The she-ass suddenly began to bray with such high and discordant -variety of notes, and with such sighing passion that a spontaneous -burst of merriment ran through the crowd. - -The fresh, happy laughter spread from one end of the bridge to the -other like the roar of water falling over the stones of a cataract. - -Then Turlendana, unknown to any of the crowd, began to make his way -through the throng. When he was outside the gates of the city, where -the women carrying reed baskets were selling fresh fish, Binchi-Banche, -a little man with a yellow face, drawn up like a juiceless lemon, -pushed to the front, and as was his custom with all strangers who -happened to come to the place, offered his services in finding a -lodging. - -Pointing to Barbara, he asked first: - -“Is he ferocious?” - -Turlendana, smiling, answered, “No.” - -“Well,” Binchi-Banche went on, reassured, “there is the house of -Rosa Schiavona.” Both turned towards the Pescaria, and then towards -Sant’ Agostino, followed by the crowd. From windows and balconies -women and children leaned over, gazing in astonishment at the passing -camel, admiring the grace of the white ass, and laughing at the comic -performances of Zavali. - -At one place, Barbara, seeing a bit of green hanging from a low loggia, -stretched out his neck and, grasping it with his lips, tore it down. -A cry of terror broke forth from the women who were leaning over the -loggia, and the cry spread to other loggias. The people from the river -laughed loudly, crying out, as though it were the carnival season and -they were behind masks: - -“Hurrah! Hurrah!” - -They were intoxicated by the novelty of the spectacle, and by the -invigourating spring air. In front of the house of Rosa Schiavona, in -the neighbourhood of Portasale, Binchi-Banche made a sign to stop. - -“This is the place,” he said. - -It was a very humble one-story house with one row of windows, and the -lower walls were covered with inscriptions and ugly figures. A row of -bats pinned on the arch formed an ornament, and a lantern covered with -reddish paper hung under the window. - -This place was the abode of a sort of adventurous, roving people. They -slept mixed together, the big and corpulent truckman, Letto Manoppello, -the gipsies of Sulmona, horse-traders, boiler-menders, turners of -Bucchianico, women of the city of Sant’ Angelo, women of wicked -lives, the bag-pipers of Atina, mountaineers, bear-tamers, charlatans, -pretended mendicants, thieves, and fortune-tellers. Binchi-Banche acted -as a go-between for all that rabble, and was a great protégé of the -house of Rosa Schiavona. - -When the latter heard the noise of the newcomers, she came out upon the -threshold. She looked like a being generated by a dwarf and a sow. Very -diffidently she put the question: - -“What is the matter?” - -“There is a fellow here who wants lodging for his beasts, Donna Rosa.” - -“How many beasts?” - -“Three, as you see, Donna Rosa—a monkey, an ass, and a camel.” - -The crowd was paying no attention to the dialogue. Some of them were -exciting Zavali, others were feeling of Barbara’s legs, commenting -on the callous spots on his knees and chest. Two guards of the salt -store-houses, who had travelled to the sea-ports of Asia Minor, were -telling in a loud voice of the wonderful properties of the camel, -talking confusedly of having seen some of them dancing, while carrying -upon their necks a lot of half-naked musicians and women of the Orient. -The listeners, greedy to hear these marvellous tales, cried: - -“Tell us some more! Tell us some more!” They stood around the -story-tellers in attentive silence, listening with dilated eyes. - -Then one of the guards, an old man whose eyelids were drawn up by the -wind of the sea, began to tell of the Asiatic countries, and as he went -on, his imagination became excited by the stories which he told, and -his tales grew more wonderful. - -A sort of mysterious softness seemed to penetrate the sunset. In the -minds of the listeners, the lands which were described to them rose -vividly before their imaginations in all their strange splendour. -Across the arch of the Porta, which was already in shadow, could be -seen boats loaded with salt rocking upon the river, the salt seeming to -absorb all the light of the evening, giving the boats the appearance of -palaces of precious crystals. Through the greenish tinted heavens rose -the crescent of the moon. - -“Tell us some more! Tell us some more!” the younger of those assembled -were crying. - -In the meanwhile Turlendana had put his beasts under cover and -supplied them with food. This being done, he had again set forth with -Binchi-Banche, while the people remained gathered about the door of the -barn where the head of the camel appeared and disappeared behind the -rock gratings. - -On the way Turlendana asked: - -“Are there any drinking places here?” - -Binchi-Banche answered promptly: - -“Yes, sir, there are.” Then, lifting his big black hands he counted off -on his fingers: - -“The Inn of Speranza, the Inn of Buono, the Inn of Assau, the Inn of -Zarricante, the Inn of the Blind Woman of Turlendana....” - -“Ah!” exclaimed the other calmly. - -Binchi-Banche raised his big, sharp, greenish eyes. - -“You have been here before, sir?” - -Then, with the native loquacity of the Pescarese he went on without -waiting for an answer: - -“The Inn of the Blind Woman is large, and they sell there the -best wine. The so-called Blind Woman is a woman who has had four -husbands....” - -He stopped to laugh, his yellowish face wrinkling into little folds as -he did so. - -“The first husband was Turlendana, a sailor on board the ships of the -King of Naples, sailing from India to France, to Spain, and even as -far as America. He was lost at sea, no one knows where, for the ship -disappeared and nothing has ever been heard from it since. That was -about thirty years ago. Turlendana had the strength of Samson; he could -pull up an anchor with one finger ... poor fellow! He who goes to sea -is apt to have such an end.” - -Turlendana was listening quietly. - -“The second husband, whom she married after five years of widowhood, -was from Ortona, a son of Ferrante, a damned soul, who was in -conspiracy with smugglers in Napoleon’s time, during the war with -England. They smuggled goods from Francavilla up to Silvi and -Montesilvano—sugar and coffee from the English boats. In the -neighbourhood of Silvi was a tower called ‘The Tower of Saracini,’ from -which the signals were given. As the patrol passed, ‘Plon, plon, plon, -plon!’ came out from behind the trees....” Binchi-Banche’s face lighted -up at the recollection of those times, and he quite lost himself in the -pleasure of describing minutely all those clandestine operations, his -expressive gestures and exclamations adding interest to the tale. - -His small body would draw up and stretch out to its full height as he -proceeded. - -“At last the son of Ferrante was, while walking along the coast one -night, shot in the back by a soldier of Murat, and killed. - -“The third husband was Titino Passacantando, who died in his bed of a -pernicious disease. - -“The fourth still lives, and is called Verdura, a good fellow who does -not adulterate the wine of the inn. Now, you will have a chance to try -some.” - -When they reached the much praised inn, they separated. - -“Good night, sir!” - -“Good night!” - -Turlendana entered unconcernedly, unmindful of the curious attention of -the drinkers sitting beside the long tables. Having asked for something -to eat, he was conducted to an upper room where the tables were set -ready for supper. - -None of the regular boarders of the place were yet in the room. -Turlendana sat down and began to eat, taking great mouthfuls without -pausing, his head bent over his plate, like a famished person. He was -almost wholly bald, a deep red scar furrowed his face from forehead to -cheek, his thick greyish beard extended to his protruding cheek bones, -his skin, dark, dried, rough, worn by water and sun and wrinkled by -pain, seemed not to preserve any human semblance, his eyes stared into -the distance as if petrified by impassivity. - -Verdura, inquisitive, sat opposite him, staring at the stranger. He -was somewhat flushed, his face was of a reddish colour veined with -vermilion like the gall of oxen. At last he cried: - -“Where do you come from?” - -Turlendana, without raising his head, replied simply: - -“I come from far away.” - -“And where do you go?” pursued Verdura. - -“I remain here.” - -Verdura, amazed, was silent. - -Turlendana continued to lift the fishes from his plate, one after -another, taking off their heads and tails, and devouring them, chewing -them up, bones and all. After every two or three fishes he drank a -draught of wine. - -“Do you know anybody here?” Verdura asked with eager curiosity. - -“Perhaps,” replied the other laconically. - -Baffled by the brevity of his interlocutor, the wine man grew silent -again. Above the uproar of the drinkers below, Turlendana’s slow and -laboured mastication could be heard. Presently Verdura again Ventured -to open his mouth. - -“In what countries is the camel found? Are those two humps natural? Can -such a great, strong beast ever be tamed?” - -Turlendana allowed him to go on without replying. - -“Your name, Mister?” - -The man to whom this question was put raised his head from his plate, -and answered simply, as before: - -“I am called Turlendana.” - -“What?” - -“Turlendana.” - -“Ah!” - -The amazement of the inn keeper was unbounded. A sort of a vague terror -shook his innermost soul. - -“What? Turlendana of this place?” - -“Of this place.” - -Verdura’s big azure eyes dilated as he stared at the man. - -“Then you are not dead?” - -“No, I am not dead.” - -“Then you are the husband of Rosalba Catena?” - -“I am the husband of Rosalba Catena.” - -“And now,” exclaimed Verdura, with a gesture of perplexity, “we are two -husbands!” - -“We are two!” - -They remained silent for an instant. Turlendana was chewing the last -bit of bread tranquilly, and through the quiet room you could hear his -teeth crunching on it. Either from a natural benignant simplicity or -from a glorious fatuity, Verdura was struck only by the singularity -of the case. A sudden impulse of merriment overtook him, bubbling out -spontaneously: - -“Let us go to Rosalba! Let us go! Let us go!” - -Taking the newcomer by the arm, he conducted him through the group of -drinkers, waving his arms, and crying out: - -“Here is Turlendana, Turlendana the sailor! The husband of my wife! -Turlendana, who is not dead! Here is Turlendana! Here is Turlendana!” - - - - -IV - -_TURLENDANA DRUNK_ - - -The last glass had been drunk, and two o’clock in the morning was about -to strike from the tower clock of the City Hall. - -Said Biagio Quaglia, his voice thick with wine, as the strokes sounded -through the silence of the night filled with clear moonlight: - -“Well! Isn’t it about time for us to go?” - -Ciavola, stretched half under the bench, moved his long runner’s legs -from time to time, mumbling about clandestine hunts-in the forbidden -grounds of the Marquis of Pescara, as the taste of wild hare came up in -his throat, and the wind brought to his nostrils the resinous odour of -the pines of the sea grove. - -Said Biagio Quaglia, giving the blond hunter a kick, and making a -motion to rise: - -“Let us go.” - -Ciavola with an effort rose, swaying uncertainly, thin and slender like -a hunting hound. - -“Let us go, as they are pursuing us,” he answered, raising his hand -high in a motion of assent, thinking perhaps of the passage of birds -through the air. - -Turlendana also moved, and seeing behind him the wine woman, -Zarricante, with her flushed raw cheeks and her protruding chest, he -tried to embrace her. But Zarricante fled from his embrace, hurling at -him words of abuse. - -On the doorsill, Turlendana asked his friends for their company and -support through a part of the road. But Biagio Quaglia and Ciavola, who -were indeed a fine pair, turned their backs on him jestingly, and went -away in the luminous moonlight. - -Then Turlendana stopped to look at the moon, which was round and red -as the face of a friar. Everything around was silent and the rows of -houses reflected the white light of the moon. A cat was mewing this May -night upon a door step. The man, in his intoxicated state, feeling a -peculiarly tender inclination, put out his hand slowly and uncertainly -to caress the animal, but the beast, being somewhat wild, took a jump -and disappeared. - -Seeing a stray dog approaching, he attempted to pour out upon it the -wealth of his loving impulses; the dog, however, paid no attention to -his calls, and disappeared around the corner of a cross street, gnawing -a bone. The noise of his teeth could be heard plainly through the -silence of the night. - -Soon after, the door of the inn was closed and Turlendana was -left-standing alone under the full moon, obscured by the shadows of -rolling clouds. His attention was struck by the rapid moving of all -surrounding objects. Everything fled away from him. What had he done -that they should fly away? - -With unsteady steps, he moved towards the river. The thought of that -universal flight as he moved along, occupied profoundly his brain, -changed as it was by the fumes of the wine. He met two other street -dogs, and as an experiment, approached them, but they too slunk away -with their tails between their legs, keeping close to the wall and when -they had gone some little distance, they began to bark. Suddenly, from -every direction, from Bagno da Sant’ Agostino, from Arsenale, from -Pescheria, from all the lurid and obscure places around, the roving -dogs ran up, as though in answer to a trumpet call to battle and the -aggressive chorus of the famishing tribe ascended to the moon. - -Turlendana was stupefied, while a sort of vague uneasiness awoke in his -soul and he went on his way a little more quickly, stumbling over the -rough places in the ground. When he reached the corner of the coopers, -where the large barrels of Zazetta were piled in whitish heaps like -monuments, he heard the heavy, regular breathing of a beast. As the -impression of the hostility of all beasts had taken a hold on him, with -the obstinacy of a drunken man, he moved in the direction of the sound, -that he might make another experiment. - -Within a low barn the three old horses of Michelangelo were breathing -with difficulty above their manger. They were decrepit beasts who had -worn out their lives dragging through the road of Chieti, twice every -day, a huge stage-coach filled with merchants and merchandise. Under -their brown hair, worn off in places by the rubbing of the harness, -their ribs protruded like so many dried shingles through a ruined -roof. Their front legs were so bent that their knees were scarcely -perceptible, their backs were ragged like the teeth of a saw, and their -skinny necks, upon which scarcely a vestige of mane was left, drooped -towards the ground. - -A wooden railing inside barred the door. - -Turlendana began encouragingly: - -“Ush, ush, ush! Ush, ush, ush!” - -The horses did not move, but breathed together in a human way. The -outlines of their bodies appeared dim and confused through the bluish -shadow within the barn, and the exhalations of their breath blent with -that of the manure. - -“Ush, ush, ush!” pursued Turlendana in a lamenting tone, as when he -used to urge Barbara to drink. Again the horses did not stir, and -again: - -“Ush, ush, ush! Ush, ush, ush!” One of the horses turned and placed his -big deformed head upon the railing, looking with eyes which seemed in -the moonlight as though filled with troubled water. The lower skin of -the jaw hung flaccid, disclosing the gums. At every breath the nostrils -palpitated, emitting moist breath, the nostrils closing at times, and -opening again to give forth a little cloud of air bubbles like yeast in -a state of fermentation. - -At the sight of that senile head, the drunken man came to his senses. -Why had he filled himself with wine, he, usually so sober? For a -moment, in the midst of his forgetful drowsiness, the shape of his -dying camel reappeared before his eyes, lying on the ground with his -long inert neck stretched out on the straw, his whole body shaken from -time to time by coughing, while with every moan the bloated stomach -produced a sound such as issues from a barrel half filled with water. - -A wave of pity and compassion swept over the man, as before him rose -this vision of the agony of the camel, shaken by strange, hoarse sobs -which brought forth a moan from the enormous dying carcass, the painful -movements of the neck, rising for an instant to fall back again heavily -upon the straw with a deep, indistinct sound, the legs moving as if -trying to run, the tense tremor of the ears, and the fixity of the -eyeballs, from which the sight seemed to have departed before the rest -of the faculties. All this suffering came back clearly to his memory, -vivid in its almost human misery. - -He leaned against the railing and opened his mouth mechanically to -again speak to Michelangelo’s horse: - -“Ush, ush, ush! Ush, ush, ush!” Then Michelangelo, who from his bed had -heard the disturbance, jumped to the window above and began to swear -violently at the troublesome disturber of his night’s rest. - -“You damned rascal! Go and drown yourself in the Pescara River! Go away -from here. Go, or I will get a gun! You rascal, to come and wake up -sleeping people! You drunkard, go on; go away!” - -Turlendana, staggering, started again towards the river. When at the -cross-roads by the fruit market, he saw a group of dogs in a loving -assembly. As the man approached, the group of canines dispersed, -running towards Bagno. From the alley of Gesidio came out another horde -of dogs, who set off in the direction of Bastioni. - -All of the country of Pescara, bathed in the sweet light of the full -moon of the springtime, was the scene of the fights of amorous canines. -The mastiff of Madrigale, chained to watch over a slaughtered ox, -occasionally made his deep voice heard, and was answered by a chorus of -other voices. Occasionally a solitary dog would pass on the run to the -scene of a fight. From within the houses, the howls of the imprisoned -dogs could be heard. - -Now a still stranger trouble took hold upon the brain of the drunken -man. In front of him, behind him, around him, the imaginary flight -of things began to take place again more rapidly than before. He -moved forward, and everything moved away from him, the clouds, the -trees, the stones, the river banks, the poles of the boats, the very -houses,—all retreated at his approach. This evident repulsion and -universal reprobation filled him with terror. He halted. His spirit -grew depressed. Through his disordered brain a sudden thought ran. -“The fox!” Even that fox of a Ciavola did not wish to remain with him -longer! His terror increased. His limbs trembled violently. However, -impelled by this thought, he descended among the tender willow trees -and the high grass of the shore. - -The bright moon scattered over all things a snowy serenity. The trees -bent peacefully over the bank, as though contemplating the running -water. Almost it seemed as though a soft, melancholy breath emanated -from the somnolence of the river beneath the moon. The croaking of -frogs sounded clearly. Turlendana crouched among the plants, almost -hidden. His hands trembled on his knees. Suddenly he felt something -alive and moving under him; a frog! He uttered a cry. He rose and began -to run, staggering, amongst the willow trees impeding his way. In his -uneasiness of spirit, he felt terrified as though by some supernatural -occurrence. - -Stumbling over a rough place in the ground, he fell on his stomach, -his face pressed into the grass. He got up with much difficulty, and -stood looking around him at the trees. The silvery silhouette of the -poplars rose motionless through the silent air, making their tops seem -unusually tall. The shores of the river would vanish endlessly, as if -they were something unreal, like shadows of things seen in dreams. Upon -the right side, the rocks shone resplendently, like crystals of salt, -shadowed at times by the moving clouds passing softly overhead like -azure veils. Further on the wood broke the horizon line. The scent of -the wood and the soft breath of the sea were blended. - -“Oh, Turlendana! Ooooh!” a clear voice cried out. - -Turlendana turned in amazement. - -“Oh, Turlendana, Turlendanaaaaa!” - -It was Binchi-Banche, who came up, accompanied by a customs officer, -through the path used by the sailors through the willow-tree thicket. - -“Where are you going at this time of night? To weep over your camel?” -asked Binchi-Banche as he approached. - -Turlendana did not answer at once. He was grasping his trousers -with one hand; his knees were bent forward and his face wore a -strange expression of stupidity, while he stammered so pitifully -that Binchi-Banche and the customs officer broke out into boisterous -laughter. - -“Go on! Go on!” exclaimed the wrinkled little man, grasping the drunken -man by the shoulders and pushing him towards the seashore. Turlendana -moved forward. Binchi-Banche and the customs officer followed him at a -little distance, laughing and speaking in low voices. - -He reached the place where the verdure terminated and the sand began. -The grumbling of the sea at the mouth of the Pescara could be heard. On -a level stretch of sand, stretched out between the dunes, Turlendana -ran against the corpse of Barbara, which had not yet been buried. The -large body was skinned and bleeding, the plump parts of the back, which -were uncovered, appeared of a yellowish colour; upon his legs the skin -was still hanging with all the hair; there were two enormous callous -spots; within his mouth his angular teeth were visible, curving over -the upper jaw and the white tongue; for some unknown reason the under -lip was cut, while the neck resembled the body of a serpent. - -At the appearance of this ghastly sight, Turlendana burst into tears, -shaking his head, and moaning in a strange unhuman way: - -“Oho! Oho! Oho!” - -In the act of lying down upon the camel, he fell. He attempted to -rise, but the stupor caused by the wine overcame him, and he lost -consciousness. - -Seeing Turlendana fall, Binchi-Banche and the customs officer came over -to him. Taking him, one by the head and the other by the feet, they -lifted him up and laid him full length upon the body of Barbara, in the -position of a loving embrace. Laughing at their deed, they departed. - -And thus Turlendana lay upon the camel until the sun rose. - - - - -V - -_THE GOLD PIECES_ - - -Passacantando entered, rattling the hanging glass doors violently, -roughly shook the rain-drops from his shoulders, took his pipe from his -mouth, and with disdainful unconcern looked around the room. - -In the tavern the smoke of the tobacco was like a bluish cloud, through -which one could discern the faces of those who were drinking: women of -bad repute; Pachio, the invalided soldier, whose right eye, affected -with some repulsive disease, was covered by a greasy greenish band; -Binchi-Banche, the domestic of the customs officers, a small, sturdy -man with a surly, yellow-hued face like a lemon without juice, with -a bent back and his thin legs thrust into boots which reached to his -knees; Magnasangue, the go-between of the soldiers, the friend of -comedians, of jugglers, of mountebanks, of fortune-tellers, of tamers -of bears,—of all that ravenous and rapacious rabble which passes -through the towns to snatch from the idle and curious people a few -pennies. - -Then, too, there were the belles of the Fiorentino Hall, three or four -women faded from dissipation, their cheeks painted brick colour, their -eyes voluptuous, their mouths flaccid and almost bluish in colour like -over-ripe figs. - -Passacantando crossed the room, and seated himself between the women -Pica and Peppuccia on a bench against the wall, which was covered with -indecent figures and writing. He was a slender young fellow, rather -effeminate, with a very pale face from which protruded a nose thick, -rapacious, bent greatly to one side; his ears sprang from his head -like two inflated paper bags, one larger than the other; his curved, -protruding lips were very red, and always had a small ball of whitish -saliva at the corners. Over his carefully combed hair he wore a soft -cap, flattened through long use. A tuft of his hair, turned up like -a hook, curled down over his forehead to the roots of his nose, while -another curled over his temple. A certain licentiousness was expressed -in every gesture, every move, and in the tones of his voice and his -glances. - -“Ohe,” he cried, “Woman Africana, a goblet of wine!” beating the table -with his clay pipe, which broke from the force of the blow. - -The woman Africana, the mistress of the inn, left the bar and came -forward towards the table, waddling because of her extreme corpulence, -and placed in front of Passacantando a glass filled to the brim -with wine. She looked at him as she did so with eyes full of loving -entreaty. - -Passacantando suddenly flung his arm around the neck of Peppuccia, -forced her to drink from the goblet, and then thrust his lips against -hers. Peppuccia laughed, disentangling herself from the arms of -Passacantando, her laughter causing the unswallowed wine to spurt from -her mouth into his face. - -The woman Africana grew livid. She withdrew behind the bar, where the -sharp words of Peppuccia and Pica reached her ears. The glass door -opened, and Fiorentino appeared on the threshold, all bundled up in a -cloak, like the villain of a cheap novel. - -“Well, girls,” he cried out in a hoarse voice, “it is time for you to -go.” Peppuccia, Pica, and the others rose from their seats beside the -men and followed their master. - -It was raining hard, and the Square of Bagno was transformed into a -muddy lake. Pachio, Magnasangue, and the others left one after another -until only Binche-Banche, stretched under the table in the stupor of -intoxication, remained. The smoke in the room gradually grew less, -while a half-plucked dove pecked from the floor the scattered crumbs. - -As Passacantando was about to rise, Africana moved slowly towards -him, her unshapely figure undulating as she walked, her full-moon face -wrinkled into a grotesque and affectionate grimace. Upon her face were -several moles with small bunches of hair growing out from them, a thick -shadow covered her upper lip and her cheeks. Her short, coarse, and -curling hair formed a sort of helmet on her head; her thick eyebrows -met at the top of her flat nose, so that she looked like a creature -affected with dropsy and elephantiasis. - -When she reached Passacantando, she grasped his hands in order to -detain him. - -“Oh, Giuva! What do you want? What have I done to you?” - -“You? Nothing.” - -“Why then do you cause me such suffering and torment?” - -“I? I am surprised!... Good night! I have no time to lose just now,” -and with a brutal gesture, he started to go. But Africana threw herself -upon him, pressing his arms, and putting her face against his, leaning -upon him with her full weight, with a passion so uncontrolled and -terrible that Passacantando was frightened. - -“What do you want? What do you want? Tell me! What do you want? Why do -I do this? I hold you! Stay here! Stay with me! Don’t make me die of -longing; don’t drive me mad! What for? Come,—take everything you find -...” - -She drew him towards the bar, opened the drawer, and with one gesture -offered him everything it contained. In the greasy till were scattered -some copper coins, and a few shining silver ones, the whole amounting -to perhaps five lire. - -Passacantando, without saying a word, picked up the coins and began -to count them slowly upon the bar, his mouth showing an expression of -disgust. Africana looked at the coins and then at the face of the man, -breathing hard, like a tired beast. One heard the tinkling of the coins -as they fell upon the bar, the rough snoring of Binchi-Banche, the soft -pattering of the dove in the midst of the continuous sound of the rain -and the river down below the Bagno and through the Bandiera. - -“Those are not enough,” Passacantando said at last. “I must have more -than those; bring out some more, or I will go.” - -He had crushed his cap down over his head, and from beneath his -forehead with its curling tuft of hair, his whitish eyes, greedy and -impudent, looked at Africana attentively, fascinating her. - -“I have no more; you have seen all there is. Take all that you find -...” stammered Africana in a caressing and supplicating voice, her -double chin quivering and her lips trembling, while the tears poured -from her piggish eyes. - -“Well,” said Passacantando softly, bending over her, “well, do you -think I don’t know that your husband has some gold pieces?” - -“Oh, Giovanni! ... how can I get them?” - -“Go and take them, at once. I will wait for you here. Your husband is -asleep, now is the time. Go, or you’ll not see me any more, in the name -of Saint Antony!” - -“Oh, Giovanni!... I am afraid!” - -“What? Fear or no fear, I am going; let us go.” - -Africana trembled; she pointed to Binchi-Banche still stretched under -the table in a heavy sleep. - -“Close the door first,” she said submissively. - -Passacantando roused Binchi-Banche with a kick, and dragged him, -howling and shaking with terror, out into the mud and slush. He came -back and closed the door. The red lantern that hung on one of the -shutters threw a rosy light into the tavern, leaving the heavy arches -in deep shadow, and giving the stairway in the angle a mysterious look. - -“Come! Let us go!” said Passacantando again to the still trembling -Africana. - -They slowly ascended the dark stairway in the corner of the room, -the woman going first, the man following close behind. At the top of -the stairway they emerged into a low room, planked with beams. In a -small niche in the wall was a blue Majolica Madonna, in front of which -burned, for a vow, a light in a glass filled with water and oil. The -other walls were covered with a number of torn paper pictures, of as -many colours as leprosy. A distressing odour filled the room. - -The two thieves advanced cautiously towards the marital bed, upon which -lay the old man, buried in slumber, breathing with a sort of hoarse -hiss through his toothless gums and his dilated nose, damp from the -use of tobacco, his head turned upon one cheek, resting on a striped -cotton pillow. Above his open mouth, which looked like a cut made in a -rotten pumpkin, rose his stiff moustache; one of his eyes, half opened, -resembled the turned over ear of a dog, filled with hair, covered with -blisters; the veins stood out boldly upon his bare emaciated arm which -lay outside the coverlet; his crooked fingers, habitually grasping, -clutched the counterpane. - -Now, this old fellow had for a long time possessed two twenty-franc -pieces, which had been left him by some miserly relative; these he -guarded jealously, keeping them in the tobacco in his horn snuff-box, -as some people do musk incense. There lay the shining pieces of gold, -and the old man would take them out, look at them fondly, feel of them -lovingly between his fingers, as the passion of avarice and the lust of -possession grew within him. - -Africana approached slowly, with bated breath, while Passacantando, -with commanding gestures, urged her to the theft. There was a noise -below; both stopped. The half-plucked dove, limping, fluttered to its -nest in an old slipper at the foot of the bed, but in settling itself, -it made some noise. The man, with a quick, brutal motion, snatched up -the bird and choked it in his fist. - -“Is it there?” he asked of Africana. - -“Yes, it is there, under the pillow,” she answered, sliding her hand -carefully under the pillow as she spoke. The old man moved in his -sleep, sighing involuntarily, while between his eyelids appeared a -little rim of the whites of his eyes. Then he fell back in the heavy -stupor of senile drowsiness. - -Africana, in this crisis, suddenly became audacious, pushed her hand -quickly forward, grasped the tobacco box and rushed towards the stairs, -descending with Passacantando just behind her. - -“Lord! Lord! See what I have done for you!” she exclaimed, throwing -herself upon him. With shaking hands, they started together to open the -snuff-box and look among the tobacco for the gold pieces. The pungent -odour of the tobacco arose to their nostrils, and both, as they felt -the desire to sneeze, were seized with a strong impulse to laugh. -In endeavouring to repress their sneezes, they staggered against one -another, pushing and wavering. But suddenly an indistinct growling was -heard, then hoarse shouts broke forth from the room above, and the old -man appeared at the top of the stairs. His face was livid in the red -light of the lantern, his form thin and emaciated, his legs bare, his -shirt in rags. He looked down at the thieving couple, and, waving his -arms like a damned soul, cried: - -“The gold pieces! The gold pieces! The gold pieces!” - - - - -VI - -_SORCERY_ - - -When seven consecutive sneezes of Mastro Peppe De Sieri, called La -Brevetta, resounded loudly in the square of the City Hall, all the -inhabitants of Pescara would seat themselves around their tables -and begin their meal. Soon after the bell would strike twelve, and -simultaneously, the people would become very hilarious. - -For many years La Brevetta had given this joyful signal to the people -daily, and the fame of his marvellous sneezing spread through all the -country around, and also through the adjoining countries. His memory -still lives in the minds of the people, for he originated a proverb -which will endure for many years to come. - - -I - -Mastro Peppe La Brevetta was a plebeian, somewhat corpulent, thick-set, -and clumsy; his face shining with a prosperous stupidity, his eyes -reminded one of the eyes of a sucking calf, while his hands and -feet were of extraordinary dimensions. His nose was long and fleshy, -his jaw-bones very strong and mobile, and when undergoing a fit of -sneezing, he looked like one of those sea-lions whose fat bodies, as -sailors relate, tremble all over like a jelly-pudding. - -Like the sea-lions, too, he was possessed of a slow and lazy motion, -their ridiculously awkward attitudes, and their exceeding fondness for -sleep. He could not pass from the shade to the sun, nor from the sun -to the shade without an irrepressible impulse of air rushing through -his mouth and nostrils. The noise produced, especially in quiet spots, -could be heard at a great distance, and as it occurred at regular -intervals, it came to be a sort of time-piece for the citizens of the -town. - -In his youth Mastro Peppe had kept a macaroni shop, and among the -strings of dough, the monotonous noise of the mills and wheels, in the -mildness of the flour-dusty air, he had grown to a placid stupidity. -Having reached maturity, he had married a certain Donna Pelagia of -the Commune of Castelli, and abandoning his early trade, he had since -that time dealt in terra cotta and Majolica ware,—vases, plates, -pitchers, and all the poor earthenware which the craftsmen of Castelli -manufactured for adorning the tables of the land of Abruzzi. Among the -simplicity and religiousness of those shapes, unchanged for centuries, -he lived in a very simple way, sneezing all the time, and as his wife -was a miserly creature, little by little her avaricious spirit had -communicated itself to him, until he had grown into her penurious and -miserly ways. - -Now Mastro Peppe was the owner of a piece of land and a small farm -house, situated upon the right bank of the river, just at the spot -where the current of the river, turning, forms a sort of greenish -amphitheatre. The soil being well irrigated, produced very abundantly, -not only grapes and cereals, but especially large quantities of -vegetables. The harvests increased, and each year Mastro Peppe’s pig -grew fat, feasting under an oak tree which dropped its wealth of acorns -for his delectation. Each year, in the month of January, La Brevetta, -with his wife, would go over to his farm, and invoke the favour of San -Antonio to assist in the killing and salting of the pig. - -One year it happened that his wife was somewhat ill, and La Brevetta -went alone to the slaughtering of the beast. The pig was placed upon a -large board and held there by three sturdy farm-hands, while his throat -was cut with a sharp knife. The grunting and squealing of the hog -resounded through the solitude, usually broken only by the murmuring of -the stream, then suddenly the sounds grew less, and were lost in the -gurgling of warm vermilion blood which was disgorged from the gaping -wound, and while the body was giving its last convulsive jerks, the new -sun was absorbing from the river the moisture in the form of a silvery -mist. With a sort of joyous ferocity La Brevetta watched Lepruccio -burn with a hot iron the deep eyes of the pig, and rejoiced to hear the -boards creak under the weight of the animal, thinking of the plentiful -supply of lard and the prospective hams. - -The murdered beast was lifted up and suspended from a hook, shaped -like a rustic pitchfork, and left there, hanging head downward. Burning -bundles of reeds were used by the farm-hands to singe off the bristles, -and the flames rose almost invisible in the greater light of the -sun. At length, La Brevetta began to scrape with a shining blade the -blackened surface of the animal’s body, while one of the assistants -poured boiling water over it. Gradually the skin became clean, and -showed rosy-tinted as it hung steaming in the sun. Lepruccio, whose -face was the wrinkled and unctuous face of an old man, and in whose -ears hung rings, stood biting his lips during the performance, working -his body up and down, and bending upon his knees. The work being -completed, Mastro Peppe ordered the farm-hands to put the pig under -cover. Never in his life had he seen so large a bulk of flesh from one -pig, and he regretted that his wife was not there to rejoice with him -because of it. - -Since it was late in the afternoon, Matteo Puriello and Biagio Quaglia, -two friends, were returning from the home of Don Bergamino Camplone, a -priest who had gone into business. - -These two cronies were living a gay life, given to dissipation, fond of -any kind of fun, very free in giving advice, and as they had heard of -the killing of the pig, and of the absence of Pelagia, hoping to meet -with some pleasing adventure, they came over to tantalise La Brevetta. -Matteo Puriello, commonly called Ciavola, was a man of about forty, a -poacher, tall and slender, with blond hair and a yellow tinted skin, -with a stiff and bristling moustache. His head was like that of a -gilded wooden effigy, from which the gilding had partly worn off. His -eyes round and restless, like those of a race-horse, shone like two -new silver coins, and his whole person, usually clad in a suit of earth -colour, reminded one, in its attitudes and movements and its swinging -gait, of a hunting dog catching hares as he ran across the plain. - -Biagio Quaglia, so-called Ristabilito, was under medium height, -a few years younger than his friend, with a rubicund face, of the -brilliancy and freshness of an almond tree in springtime. He possessed -the singular faculty of moving his ears and the skin of his forehead -independently, and with the skin of the cranium, as does a monkey. By -some unexplained contraction of muscles, he was in this way enabled -greatly to change his aspect, and this, together with a happy vocal -power of imitation, and the gift of quickly catching the ridiculous -side of men and things, gave him the power to imitate in gesture and in -word the, different groups of Pescara, so that he was greatly in demand -as an entertainer. In this happy, parasitical mode of life, by playing -the guitar at festivals and baptismal ceremonies, he was prospering. -His eyes shone like those of a ferret, his head was covered with a sort -of woolly hair like the down on the body of a fat, plucked goose before -it is broiled. - -When La Brevetta saw the two friends, he greeted them gently, saying: - -“What wind brings you here?” - -After exchanging pleasant greetings, La Brevetta took the two friends -into the room where, upon the table, lay his wonderful pig, and asked: - -“What do you think of such a pig? Eh? What do you think about it?” - -The two friends were contemplating the pig in wondering silence, and -Ristabilito made a curious noise by beating his palate with his tongue. - -Ciavola asked: - -“And what do you expect to do with it?” - -“I expect to salt it,” answered La Brevetta, his voice full of -gluttonous joy at the thought of the future delights of the palate. - -“You expect to salt it?” cried Ristabilito. “You wish to salt it? -Ciavola, have you ever seen a more foolish man than this one? To allow -such an opportunity to escape!” - -Stupefied, La Brevetta was looking with his calf-like eyes first at one -and then at the other of his interlocutors. - -“Donna Pelagia has always made you bow to her will,” pursued -Ristabilito. “Now, when she is not here to see you, sell the pig and -eat up the money.” - -“But Pelagia?—Pelagia?——” stammered La Brevetta, in whose mind arose -a vision of his wrathful wife which brought terror to his heart. - -“You can tell her that the pig was stolen,” suggested the ever-ready -Ciavola, with a quick gesture of impatience. - -La Brevetta was horrified. - -“How could I take home such a story? Pelagia would not believe me. She -will throw me out of doors! She will beat me! You don’t know Pelagia.” - -“Uh, Pelagia! Uh, uh, Donna Pelagia!” cried the wily fellows -derisively. Then Ristabilito, mimicking the lamenting voice of Peppe -and the sharp, screeching voice of the woman, went through a scene of a -comedy in which Peppe was bound to a bench, and soundly spanked by his -wife, like a child. - -Ciavola witnessed this performance in great glee, laughing and jumping -about the pig, unable to restrain himself. The man who was being -laughed at was just at this moment taken with a sudden paroxysm of -sneezing, and stood waving his arms frantically toward Ristabilito, -trying to make him stop. The din was so great that the window panes -fairly rattled as the light of the setting sun fell on the three faces. - -When Ristabilito was silenced at last, Ciavola said: - -“Well, let’s go now!” - -“If you wish to stay to supper with me ...” Mastro Peppe ventured to -say between his teeth. - -“No, no, my beauty,” interrupted Ciavola, turning toward the door. -“Remember me to Pelagia,—and do salt the pig.” - - -II - -The two friends walked together along the shore of the river. In the -distance the boats of Barletta, loaded with salt, scintillated like -fairy palaces of crystal; a gentle breeze was blowing from Montecorno, -ruffling the limpid surface of the water. - -“I say,” said Ristabilito to Ciavola, halting, “are we going to steal -that pig to-night?” - -“And how can we do it?” asked Ciavola. - -Said Ristabilito: - -“I know how to do it if the pig is left where we last saw it.” - -Said Ciavola: - -“Well, let us do it! But after?” - -Ristabilito stopped again, his little eyes brilliant as two carbuncles, -his flushed face wrinkling between the ears like a fawn’s, in a grimace -of joy. - -“I know it ...” he said laconically. - -In the distance, his form showing black through the naked trees of the -silver poplar grove, Don Bergamino Camplone approached the two. As soon -as they saw him, they hastened toward him. Noticing their joyful mien, -the priest, smiling, asked them: - -“Well, what good news have you?” - -Briefly, they communicated to him their purpose, to which he -delightedly assented. Ristabilito concluded softly: - -“We shall have to use great cunning. You know that Peppe, since he -married that ugly woman, Donna Pelagia, has become a great miser, but -he likes wine pretty well. Now then let us get him to accompany us to -the Inn of Assau. You, Don Bergamino, treat us to drinks and pay for -everything. Peppe will drink as much as he can get without having to -pay anything for it, and will get intoxicated. We can then go about our -business with no fear of interruption.” - -Ciavola favoured this plan, and the priest agreed to his share in the -bargain. Then all together returned to the house of Peppe, which was -only about two gun-shots away, and as they drew near, Ciavola raised -his voice: - -“Hello-o! La Brevetta! Do you wish to come to the Inn of Assau? The -priest is here, and he is ready to pay for a bottle or two—Hello!” La -Brevetta did not delay in coming down the path, and the four set out -together, in the soft light of the new moon. The quiet was occasionally -broken by the caterwauling of love-stricken cats. Ristabilito turned to -Peppe, asking in jest: - -“Oh, Peppe, don’t you hear Pelagia calling you?” - -Upon the left side of the river shone the lights of the Inn of Assau, -mirrored by the water. As the current of the river was not very strong -here, Assau kept a little boat to ferry over his customers. In answer -to their calls, the boat approached over the luminous water to meet the -new-comers. When they were seated and engaged in friendly chat, Ciavola -with his long legs began to rock the boat, and the creaking of the wood -frightened La Brevetta, who, affected by the dampness of the river, -broke forth in another paroxysm of sneezing. - -Arrived at the inn, seated around an oaken table, the company became -more jovial, laughing and jesting loudly, and pouring the wine into -their victim, who found it easy to let the good red juice of the vines, -rich in taste and colour, run down his throat. - -“Another bottle,” ordered Don Bergamino, beating his fist upon the -table. - -Assau, an essentially rustic, bow-legged man, brought in the ruby -coloured bottles. Ciavola sang with much Bacchic freedom, striking the -rhythm upon the glasses. La Brevetta, his tongue now thick and his eyes -swimming from the effects of the wine, was holding the priest by the -sleeve to make him listen to his stammering and incoherent praises of -his wonderful pig. Above their heads lines of dried, greenish pumpkins -hung from the ceiling; the lamps, in which the oil was getting low, -were smoking. - -It was late at night and the moon was high in the sky when the friends -again crossed the river. In landing, Mastro Peppe came near falling in -the mud, for his legs were unsteady and his eyesight blurred. - -Ristabilito said: - -“Let us do a kind act. Let us carry this fellow home.” - -Holding him up under the arms, they took him home through the poplar -grove, and the drunken man, mistaking the white trunks of the trees in -the night, stammered thickly: - -“Oh, how many Dominican monks I see!...” - -Said Ciavola, “They are going to look for San Antonio.” - -The drunken man went on, after an interval: - -“Oh, Lepruccio, Lepruccio, seven measures of salt will be enough. What -shall we do?” - -The three conspirators, having conveyed Mastro Peppe to the door of -his house, left him there. He ascended the steps with much difficulty, -mumbling about Lepruccio and the salt. Then, not noticing that he had -left the door open, he threw himself into the arms of Morpheus. - -Ciavola and Ristabilito, after having partaken of the supper of Don -Bergamino, provided with certain crooked tools, set cautiously to -work. The moon had set, the sky was glittering with stars, and through -the solitude the north wind was blowing sharply. The two men advanced -silently, listening for any sound, and halting now and then, when the -skill and agility of Matteo Puriello would be called into use for the -occasion. - -When they reached the place, Ristabilito could scarcely withhold an -exclamation of joy on finding the door open. Profound silence reigned -through the house, except for the deep snoring of the sleeping man. -Ciavola ascended the stairs first, followed by Ristabilito. In the -dim light they perceived the vague outlines of the pig lying upon the -table. With the utmost caution, they raised the heavy body and dragged -it out by main force. They stood listening for a moment. The cocks -could be heard crowing, one after another, in the yards. - -Then the two thieves, laughing at their prowess, took the pig upon -their shoulders and made their way up the path; to Ciavola it seemed -like stealing through a wood with poached game. The pig was heavy, and -they reached the house of the priest in a breathless state. - - -III - -The next morning, having recovered from the effects of the wine, Mastro -Peppe awoke, stood up in bed, and stretched himself, listening to the -bells saluting the eve of San Antonio. Already in his mind, in the -confusion of the first awakening, he saw Lepruccio cut into pieces and -cover his beautiful fat pork-meat with salt, and his soul was filled -with happiness at this thought. Impatient for the anticipated delight, -he dressed hastily and went out to the stair-case, wiping his eyes to -see more clearly. Upon the table where he had left the pig, the morning -sun was smiling in, but nothing was there save a stain of blood! - -“The pig? Where is the pig?” cried the robbed man in a hoarse voice. - -In a frenzy, he descended the stairs, and noticing the open door, -striking his forehead, he ran out crying, and called the labourers -around him, asking every one if they had seen the pig, if they had -taken it. His queries came faster and faster and his voice grew louder -and louder, until the sound of the uproar came up the river to Ciavola -and Ristabilito. - -They came tranquilly upon the group to enjoy the spectacle and keep up -the joke. As they came in sight, Mastro Peppe turned to them, weeping -in his grief, and exclaimed: - -“Oh, dear me! They have stolen my pig! Oh, dear me! What am I to do -now? What am I to do?” - -Biagio Quaglia stood a moment considering the appearance of the unhappy -fellow, his eyes half-closed in an expression which was half sneer, -half admiration, his head bent sideways, as though judging of the -effect of this acting. Then approaching, he said: - -“Yes indeed!... One cannot deny it ... You play your part well!” - -Peppe, not understanding, lifted his face, streaked with tears. - -“Yes, yes indeed! You are becoming very cunning!” continued Ristabilito -with an air of confidential friendship. - -Peppe, not yet understanding, stared stupidly at Ristabilito, and his -tears stopped flowing. - -“But truly, I did not think you were so malicious!” went on -Ristabilito. “Good fellow! My compliments!” - -“What do you mean?” asked La Brevetta between his sobs. “What do you -mean?... Oh, poor me! How can I now return home?” - -“Good! Good! Very well done!” cried Ristabilito. “Play your part! Play -your part! Weep louder! Pull your hair! Make every one hear you! Yes, -that way! Make everybody believe you!” - -Peppe, still weeping, “But I am telling you the truth! My pig has been -stolen from me! Oh, Lord! Poor me!” - -“Go on! Go on! Don’t stop! The more you shout, the less I believe you. -Go on! Go on! Some more!” - -Peppe, beside himself with anger and grief, swore repeatedly. - -“I tell you it is true! I hope to die on the spot if the pig has not -been stolen from me!” - -“Oh, poor innocent fellow!” shrieked Ciavola, jestingly. “Put your -finger in your mouth! How can we believe you, when last night we saw -the pig there? Has San Antonio given him wings to fly?” - -“San Antonio be blest! It is as I tell you!” - -“But how can it be?” - -“So it is!” - -“It can’t be so!” - -“It is so!” - -“No!” - -“Yes, yes! It is so! It is so, and I am a dead man! I don’t know how -I can ever go home again! Pelagia will not believe me; and if she -believes me, she will never give me any peace ... I am a dead man!” - -“Well, we’ll try to believe you,” said Ristabilito. “But look here, -Peppe. Ciavola suggested the trick to you yesterday. Is it not so that -you might fool Pelagia, and others as well? You might be capable of -doing that.” - -Then La Brevetta began to weep and cry and despair in such a foolish -burst of grief that Ristabilito said: - -“Very well, keep quiet! We believe you. But if this is true, we must -find a way to repair the damage.” - -“What way?” asked La Brevetta eagerly, a ray of hope coming into his -soul. - -“I will tell you,” said Biagio Quaglia. “Certainly someone living -around here must have done it, for no one has come over from India to -take your pig away. Is not that so, Peppe?” - -“It is well, it is well!” assented the man, his voice still filled with -tears. - -“Well, then, pay attention,” continued Ristabilito, delighted at -Peppe’s credulity. “Well, then, if no one has come from India to rob -you, then certainly someone who lives around here must have been the -thief. Is not that so, Peppe?” - -“It is well. It is well.” - -“Well, what is to be done? We must summon the farm-hands together -and employ some sorcery to discover the thief. When the thief is -discovered, the pig is found.” - -Peppe’s eyes shone with greediness. He came nearer at the hint of the -sorcery, which awakened in him all his native superstitions. - -“You know there are three kinds of sorcerers, white ones, pink ones, -and black ones; and you know there are in the town three women who know -the art of sorcery: Rosa Schiavona, Rusaria Pajora, and La Ciniscia. It -is for you to choose.” - -Peppe stood for a moment in deep thought; then he chose Rusaria Pajora, -for she was renowned as an enchantress and always accomplished great -things. - -“Well then,” Ristabilito finished. “There is no time to lose. For your -sake, I am willing to do you a favour; I will go to town and take what -is necessary; I will speak with Rusaria and ask her to give me all -needful articles and will return this morning. Give me the money.” - -Peppe took out of his waistcoat three francs and handed them over -hesitatingly. - -“Three francs!” cried the other, refusing them. “Three francs? More -than ten are needed.” The husband of Pelagia almost had a fit upon -hearing this. - -“What? Ten francs for a sorcery?” he stammered, feeling in his pocket -with trembling fingers. “Here, I give you eight of them, and no more.” - -Ristabilito took them, saying dryly: - -“Very well! What I can do, I will do. Will you come with me, Ciavola?” - -The two companions set off toward Pescara along the path through the -trees, walking quickly in single file; Ciavola showed his merriment -by pounding Ristabilito on the back with his fist as they went along. -Arriving at the town, they betook themselves to the store of Don -Daniele Pacentro, a druggist, with whom they were on very familiar -terms, and here they purchased certain aromatic drugs, having them put -up in pills as big as walnuts, well covered with sugar and apple juice. -Just as the druggist finished the pills, Biagio Quaglia, who had been -absent during this time, came in, carrying a piece of paper filled -with dried excrements of dog, and asked the druggist to make from -these two beautiful pills, similar in size and shape to the others, -excepting that they were to be dipped in aloe and then lightly coated -with sugar. The druggist did as he asked, and in order that these might -be distinguished from the others, he placed upon each a small mark as -suggested by Ristabilito. - -The two cheats then betook themselves back to the house of Mastro -Peppe, which they reached in a short time, arriving there at about -noon, and found Mastro Peppe anxiously awaiting them. As soon as he saw -the form of Ciavola approaching through the trees, he cried out: - -“Well?” - -“Everything is all right,” answered Ristabilito triumphantly, showing -the box containing the bewitched confectionery. “Now, as today is -the eve of San Antonio and the labourers are feasting, gather all the -people together and offer them drink. I know that you have a certain -keg of Montepulciano wine; bring that out today! And when everybody is -here, I will know what to say, and what to do.” - - -IV - -Two hours later, during the warm, clear afternoon, all the neighbouring -harvesters and farm-hands, who had been summoned by La Brevetta, were -assembled together in answer to the invitation. A number of great -straw stacks in the yard gleamed brightly golden in the sun; a flock of -geese, snowy white, with orange-coloured beaks, waddled slowly about, -cackling, and hunting for a place to swim while the smell of manure was -wafted at intervals from the barnyard. All these rustic men, waiting -to drink, were jesting contentedly, sitting upon their curved legs, -deformed by their labours; some of them had round, wrinkled faces -like withered apples, some were mild and patient in expression, some -showed the animation of malice, all possessed the incipient beards of -adolescence, and lounged about in the easy attitudes of youth, wearing -their new clothes with the manifest care of love. - -Ciavola and Ristabilito did not keep them waiting long. Holding the box -of candy in his hand, Ristabilito ordered the men to form a circle, and -standing in the centre, he proceeded with grave voice and gestures to -give a brief harangue. - -“Good men! None of you know Why Mastro Peppe De Sierri has called you -here....” - -The men’s mouths opened in stupid wonder at this unexpected preamble, -and as they listened, their joy in anticipation of the promised wine -changed to an uneasy expectation of something else, they knew not what. -The orator continued: - -“But as something unpleasant might happen for which you would reprove -me, I will tell you what is the matter before making any experiment.” - -His listeners stared questioningly at each other with a look of -stupidity, then turned their gaze upon the curious and mysterious box -which the speaker held in his hands. One of them, when Ristabilito -paused to notice the effect of his words, exclaimed impatiently: - -“Well, what is it?” - -“I will tell you immediately, my good men. Last night there was stolen -from Mastro Peppe a beautiful pig, which was all ready for salting. Who -the thief is we do not know, but certainly he must be found among you -people, for nobody came from India to steal the pig from Mastro Peppe!” - -Whether it was the playful effect of the strong argument about India, -or whether it was the heat of the bright sun cannot be determined, but -at any rate, La Brevetta began to sneeze. The peasants moved back, -the flock of geese ran in all directions, terrified, and the seven -consecutive sneezes resounded loudly in the air, disturbing the rural -quiet. An uproar of merriment seized the crowd at the great noise. -After they had again recovered their composure, Ristabilito went on -gravely, as before: - -“In order to discover the thief, Mastro Peppe has planned to give you -certain good candies to eat, and some of his old Montepulciano wine -to drink, which will be tapped for this purpose today. But I must tell -you something. The thief, as soon as he bites the candy, will feel his -mouth so drawn up by the bitterness of the candy that he will have to -spit it out. Now, do you want to try this experiment? Or, is the thief, -in order not to be found out in such a manner, ready to confess now? -Tell me, what do you want to do?” - -“We wish to eat and drink!” answered the crowd in a chorus, while an -excited motion ran through the throng, each man showing an expression -of curiosity and delight at the portentous demonstration about to be -made. - -Ciavola said: - -“You must stand in a row for this experiment. Now, one of you is to be -singled out.” - -When they were all thus formed in a line, he took up the flask of wine -and one of the glasses, ready to pour it. Ristabilito placed himself -at one end of the line, and began slowly to distribute the candy, -which cracked under the strong teeth of the peasants and instantly -disappeared. When he reached Mastro Peppe, he took out one of the -canine candies, which had been marked, and handed it to him, without in -any way arousing suspicion by his manner. - -Mastro Peppe, who had been watching with wide open eyes to detect the -thief, thrust the candy quickly in his mouth, with almost gluttonous -eagerness, and began to chew it up. Suddenly his jaw bones rose through -his cheeks towards his eyes, the corners of his mouth twisted upwards, -and his temples wrinkled, the skin of his nose drew up, his chin -became contorted, and all his features took on a comic and involuntary -expression of horror, a visible shiver passed down his back, the -bitterness of the aloes on his tongue was beyond endurance, his stomach -revolted so that he was unable to swallow the dose, and the unhappy man -was forced to spit it from his mouth. - -“Oho, Mastro Peppe! What in the dickens are you doing?” cried out -Tulespre dei Passeri, a greenish, hairy old goat-shepherd,—green as -a swamp-turtle. Hearing his voice, Ristabilito turned around from his -work of distributing the candies. Seeing La Brevetta’s contortions, he -said in a benevolent voice: - -“Well! Perhaps the candy I gave you is too sweet. Here is another one, -try this, Peppe,” and with his two fingers, he tossed into Peppe’s open -mouth the other canine pill. - -The poor man took it, and feeling the sharp, malignant eyes of the -goat-herder fixed upon him, he made a supreme effort to endure the -bitterness. He neither bit nor swallowed it, but let it stay in his -mouth, with his tongue pressed motionless against his teeth. But in the -heat and dampness of his mouth, the aloes began to dissolve, and he -could not long endure the taste; his mouth began to twist as before, -his nose was filled with tears, the big drops ran down his cheeks, -springing from his eyes like uncut pearls, and at last, he had to spit -out the mouthful. - -“Well, well, Mastro Peppe! What the dickens are you doing now?” again -exclaimed the goat-herder, showing his white and toothless gums as he -spoke. “Well, well! What does this mean?” - -The peasants broke the lines, and crowded around La Brevetta, some -jeering and laughing, others with wrathful words. Their pride had been -hurt, and the ready brutality of the rustic people was aroused and -the implacable austerity of their superstitious natures broke out in a -sudden tempest of contumely and reproach. - -“Why did you get us to come here to try to lay the blame of this thing -on one of us? So this is the kind of sorcery you have gotten up? It -was intended to fool us! And why? You calculated wrongly, you fool! -you liar! you ill-bred fool! you rascal! You wanted to deceive us, you -fool! you thief! you liar! You deserve to have every bone in your body -broken, you scoundrel! you deceiver!” - -Having broken the wine flasks and all the glasses, they dispersed, -shouting back their last insults through the poplar grove. - -Ciavola, Ristabilito, the geese, and La Brevetta were left alone in the -yard. The latter, filled with shame, rage, and confusion, his tongue -still biting from the acridness of the aloes, was unable to speak a -word. Ristabilito stood looking at him pitilessly, tapping the ground -with his toe as he stood supported on his heels, and shaking his head -sarcastically, then he broke out with an insinuating sneer: - -“Ha! ha! ha! ha! Good, good, La Brevetta! Now, tell us how much you got -for the pig. Did you get ten ducats?” - - - - -VII _THE IDOLATERS_ - - -I - -The great sandy square scintillated as if spread with powdered pumice -stone. All of the houses around it, whitened with plaster, seemed -red hot like the walls of an immense furnace whose fire was about to -die out. In the distance, the pilasters of the church reflected the -radiation of the clouds and became red as granite, the Windows flashed -as if they might contain an internal conflagration; the sacred images -possessed personalities alive with colour; the entire structure, -beneath the splendour of this meteoric twilight, assumed a more lofty -power of dominion over the houses of Radusani. - -There moved from the streets to the square groups of men and women, -vociferating and gesticulating. In the souls of all, superstitious -terror was rapidly becoming intense; in all of those uncultivated -imaginations a thousand terrible images of divine chastisement arose; -comments, passionate contentions, lamentable conjurations, disconnected -tales, prayers, cries mingled with the ominous rumbling of an imminent -hurricane. - -Already for many days that bloody redness had lingered in the sky after -the sunset, had invaded the tranquillity of the night, illuminated -tragically the slumber of the fields, aroused the howls of the dogs. - -“Giacobbe! Giacobbe!” cried several while waving their arms who -previous to this time had spoken in low voices, before the church, -crowded around a pilaster of the vestibule. “Giacobbe!” - -There issued from the main door and approached the summoners a long and -lean man, who seemed ill with a hectic fever, was bald upon the top of -his head, and crowned at the temples and neck with long reddish hair. - -His small, hollow eyes, animated as if from the ardour of a deep -passion, converged slightly toward his nose, and were of an uncertain -colour. The lack of the two front teeth of the upper jaw gave to his -mouth as he spoke, and to the movements of his sharp chin scattered -with hairs, a singular appearance of satyr-like senility. The rest -of his body was a miserable architectural structure of bones badly -concealed by clothes, while on his hands, on the under sides of his -arms and on his breast, his skin was full of azure marks, incisions -made with the point of a pin and powder of indigo, in memory of visits -to sanctuaries, of grace received, of vows taken. - -As the fanatic drew near to the group around the pilaster, a medley of -questions arose from these anxious men. - -“What then? What had Don Consolo said? Had he made only the arm of -silver appear?” - -“And was not the entire bust a better omen? When would Pallura return -with the candles?” - -“Were there a hundred pounds of wax? Only a hundred pounds? And when -would the bells begin to sound? What then? What then?” - -The clamours increased around Giacobbe; those furthest away drew near -to the church; from all the streets the people overflowed on to the -piazza and filled it. - -Giacobbe replied to the interrogators. He spoke in a low voice, as if -he were about to reveal terrible secrets, as if he were the bearer -of prophecies from afar. He had witnessed on high, in the centre of -blood, a threatening hand and then a black veil, and then a sword and a -trumpet.... - -“Tell us! Tell us!” the others induced him, while watching his face, -seized with a strange greediness to hear marvellous things, while, -in the meantime the fable sped from mouth to mouth throughout the -assembled multitude. - - -II - -The great vermilion clouds mounted slowly from the horizon to the -zenith, until they finally filled the entire cupola of the heavens. A -vapour as of melted metals seemed to undulate over the roofs of the -houses, and in the descending lustre of the twilight sulphurous and -violent rays blended together with trembling iridescence. - -A long streamer more luminous than the rest escaped toward a street -giving on the river front, and there appeared in the distance the -flaming of the water between the long, slender shafts of the poplars; -then came a border of ragged country, where the old Saracenic towers -rose confusedly like islands of stone in the midst of obscurity; -oppressive emanations from the reaped hay filled the atmosphere, which -was at times like an odour of putrefied worms amongst the foliage. -Troops of swallows flew across the sky with shrill-resounding notes, -while going from the banks of the river to the caves. The murmuring -of the multitude was interrupted by the silence of expectation. The -name of Pallura was on all lips, while irate impatience burst out here -and there. Along the path of the river they did not as yet see the -cart appear; they lacked candles and Don Consolo delayed because of -this to expose the relics and make the exorcisms; further, an imminent -peril was threatening. Panic invaded all of this people, massed like -a herd of beasts, no longer daring to lift their eyes to heaven. -From the breasts of the women sobs began to escape, while a supreme -consternation oppressed and stupefied all souls at these sounds of -grief. - -At length the bells rang out. As these bronze forms swung at a low -height, the ominous sound of their tolling blanched the faces of all, -and a species of continuous howling filled the air, between strokes. - -“Saint Pantaleone! Saint Pantaleone!” - -There was an immense simultaneous cry for help from these desperate -souls. All upon their knees, with extended hands, with white faces, -implored, “Saint Pantaleone!” - -There appeared at the door of the church, in the midst of the smoke -from two censers, Don Consolo in a shining violet cape embroidered -with gold. He held on high the sacred arm of silver, and exorcised the -air while pronouncing these words in Latin, “_Ut fidelibus tuis aeris -serenitatem concedere digneris. Te rogamus, audi nos._” - -The appearance of the relic excited a delirium of tenderness in the -multitude. Tears flowed from all eyes, and behind the clear veil of -tears their eyes saw a miraculous, celestial splendour emanate from the -three fingers held up to bless the multitude. The arm seemed larger in -the kindled atmosphere, the twilight rays produced a dazzling effect -on the precious stones, the balsam of the incense was wafted rapidly to -the devotees. - -“_Te rogamus audi nos!_” - -But when the arm re-entered and the bells ceased to ring, in the -momentary silence, they heard nearby a tinkling of bells that came from -the road by the river. Then followed a sudden movement of the crowd in -that direction and many said, “It is Pallura with the candles! It is -Pallura who has come! See Pallura!” - -The cart arrived, rattling over the gravel, dragged by a heavy grey -mare, on whose back a great brass horn shone like a beautiful half -moon. As Giacobbe and the others ran to meet the wagon the gentle beast -stopped, blowing heavily from his nostrils. Giacobbe, who reached it -first, saw, stretched in the bottom of the cart, the body of Pallura -covered with blood, whereupon he began to howl and waved his arms to -the crowd, shouting, “He is dead! He is dead!” - - -III - -The sad news passed from mouth to mouth in a flash. The people pressed -around the cart, stretched their necks to see the body, no longer -thought of threats from above, stricken by this new, unexpected -occurrence, invaded by that natural fierce curiosity that men possess -in the presence of blood. - -“Is he dead? How did he die?” - -Pallura rested supine on the boards, with a large wound in the centre -of his forehead, with an ear lacerated, with rents in his arms, in his -sides, in one thigh. A tepid stream dripped from the hollow of his eyes -down to his chin and neck, while it spotted his shirt, formed black -and shining clots upon his breast, on his leather belt, and even on his -trousers. - -Giacobbe remained leaning over the body; all of those around him -waited, a light as of the morning illuminated their perplexed faces; -and, in that moment of silence, from the banks of the river came the -croak of the frogs, and the bats passed and repassed grazing the heads -of the people. - -Suddenly Giacobbe standing up, with a cheek stained with blood, cried, -“He is not dead. He still breathes.” - -A dull murmur ran through the crowd, and those nearest stretched -themselves to see; the restlessness of those most distant made them -break into shouts. Two women brought a flask of water, another some -strips of linen, while a youth offered a pumpkin full of wine. The -face of the wounded man was bathed, the flow of blood from the forehead -stanched and his head raised. - -Then there arose loud voices, demanding the cause of all this. The -hundred pounds of wax were missing; barely a few fragments of candles -remained among the interstices of the boards in the bottom of the cart. - -In the midst of the commotion the emotions of the people were kindled -more and more, and became more irritable and belligerent. As an ancient -hereditary hatred for the country of Mascalico, opposite upon the other -bank of the river, was always fermenting, Giacobbe cried venomously in -a hoarse voice, “Maybe the candles are being used for Saint Gonselvo?” - -This was like a spark of fire. The spirit of the church awoke suddenly -in that race, grown brutish through so many years of blind and fierce -worship of its one idol. The words of the fanatic sped from mouth to -mouth. And beneath the tragic glow of the twilight this tumultuous -people had the appearance of a tribe of negro mutineers. - -The name of the Saint burst from all throats like a war cry. The most -ardent hurled imprecations against the farther side of the river, -while shaking their arms and clenching their fists. Then, all of -those countenances afire with wrath and wrathful thoughts, round and -resolute, whose circles of gold in the ears and thick tufts of hair -on the forehead gave them a strange barbarian aspect, all of those -countenances turned toward the reclining man, and softened with pity. -There was around the cart a pious solicitude shown by the women, who -wished to reanimate the suffering man; many loving hands changed the -strips of linen on the wounds, sprinkled the face with water, placed -the pumpkin of wine to the white lips and made a kind of a pillow -beneath the head. - -“Pallura, poor Pallura, why do you not answer?” - -He remained motionless, with closed hands, with mouth half open, with -a brown down on his throat and chin, with a sort of beauty of youth -still apparent in his features even though they were strained by the -convulsions of pain. From beneath the binding of his forehead a stream -of blood dropped down upon his temples, while at the angles of his -mouth appeared little bubbles of red foam, and from his throat issued -a species of thick, interrupted hissing. Around him the assistance, -the questions, the feverish glances increased. The mare every so -often shook her head and neighed in the direction of her stable. An -oppression as of an imminent hurricane weighed upon the country. - -Then one heard feminine cries in the direction of the square, cries of -the mother, that seemed even louder in the midst of the sudden silence -of the others. An enormous woman, almost suffocated by her flesh, -passed through the crowd, and arrived crying at the cart. As she was -so heavy as to be unable to climb into the cart, she grasped the feet -of her son, with words of love interspersed among her tears, given in -a broken voice, so sharp, and with an expression of grief so terribly -beast like, that a shiver ran through all of the bystanders and all -turned their faces aside. - -“Zaccheo! Zaccheo! my heart! my joy!”—the widow cried, over and over -again, while kissing the feet of the wounded one, and drawing him to -her toward the ground. The wounded man stirred, twisted his mouth in -a spasm, opened his eyes wide, but he really could not see, because a -kind of humid film covered his sight. Great tears began to flow from -the corners of his eyelids and to run down upon his cheeks and neck, -his mouth remained twisted, and in the thick hissing of his throat -one perceived a vain effort to speak. They crowded around him. “Speak, -Pallura! Who has wounded you? Who has wounded you? Speak! Speak!” - -And beneath the question their wrath raged; their violent desires -intensified, a dull craving for vengeance shook them and that -hereditary hatred boiled up again in the souls of all. - -“Speak! Who has wounded you? Tell us about it! Tell us about it!” - -The dying man opened his eyes a second time, and as they clasped both -of his hands, perhaps through the warmth of that living contact the -spirit in him revived and his face lighted up. He had upon his lips a -vague murmur, betwixt the foam that rose, suddenly more abundant and -bloody. They did not as yet understand his words. One could hear in the -silence the breathing of the breathless multitude, and all eyes held -within their depths a single flame because all minds awaited a single -word. - -“Ma—Ma—Ma—scalico.” - -“Mascalico! Mascalico!” howled Giacobbe, who was bending, with strained -ear, to grasp the weak syllables from that dying mouth. An immense -cry greeted this explanation. There was at first a confused rising and -falling as of a tempest in the multitude. Then when one voice raised -above the tumult gave the signal, the multitude disbanded in mad haste. - -One single thought pursued those men, one thought that seemed to have -flashed instantaneously into the minds of all: to arm themselves with -something in order to wound. A species of sanguinary fatality settled -upon all consciences beneath the surly splendour of the twilight, -in the midst of the electrifying odours emanating from the panting -country. - - -IV - -Then the phalanxes, armed with scythes, with sickles, with hatchets, -with hoes and with muskets, reunited on the square before the church. - -And the idolaters shouted, “Saint Pantaleone!” - -Don Consolo, terrified by the turmoil, had fled to the depths of a -stall behind the altar. A handful of fanatics, conducted by Giacobbe, -penetrated the large chapel, forced its gratings of bronze, and arrived -at length in the underground passage where the bust of the Saint was -kept. Three lamps fed with olive oil burned gently in the sacristy -behind a crystal; the Christian idol sparkled with its white head -surrounded by a large solar disc, and the walls were covered over with -the rich gifts. - -When the idol, borne upon the shoulders of four Hercules, appeared -presently between the pilasters of the vestibule, and shed rays from -its aureole, a long, breathless passion passed over the expectant -crowd, a noise like a joyous wind beat upon all foreheads. The column -moved. And the enormous head of the Saint oscillated on high, gazing -before it with two empty eyes. - -In the heavens now passed at intervals meteors which seemed alive, -while groups of thin clouds seemed to detach themselves from the -heavens, and, while dissolving, floated slowly away. The entire country -of Radusa appeared in the background like a mountain of ashes that -might be concealing a fire, and in front of it the contour of the -country lost itself with an indistinct flash. A great chorus of frogs -disturbed the harmony of the solitude. - -On the road by the river Pallura’s cart obstructed progress. It was -empty now, but bore traces of blood in many places. Irate imprecations -exploded suddenly in the silence. - -Giacobbe cried, “Let us put the Saint in it!” - -The bust was placed on the boards and dragged by human strength to the -ford. The procession, ready for battle, thus crossed the boundary. -Along the files metal lamps were carried, the invaded waters broke -in luminous sprays, and everywhere a red light flamed from the young -poplars in the distance, toward the quadrangular towers. Mascalico -appeared upon a little elevation, asleep in the centre of an olive -orchard. - -The dogs barked here and there, with a furious persistency. The column -having issued from the ford, on abandoning the common road, advanced -with rapid steps by a direct path that cut through the fields. The -bust of silver borne anew on rugged shoulders, towered above the heads -of the men amongst the high grain, odorous and starred with living -fireflies. - -Suddenly, a shepherd, who rested under a straw shed to guard the grain, -seized by a mad terror at the sight of so many armed men, began to flee -up the coast, screaming as loud as he could, “Help! Help!” - -His cries echoed through the olive orchards. - -Then it was that the Radusani increased their speed. Among the trunks -of trees, amid the dried reeds, the Saint of silver tottered, gave back -sonorous tinklings at the blows of the trees, became illuminated with -vivid flashes at every hint of a fall. Ten, twelve, twenty shots rained -down in a vibrating flash, one after another upon the group of houses. -One heard creaks, then cries followed by a great clamorous commotion; -several doors opened while others closed, windows fell in fragments and -vases of basil fell shivered on the road. A white smoke rose placidly -in the air, behind the path of the assailants, up to the celestial -incandescence. All blinded, in a belligerent rage, shouted, “To death! -To death!” - -A group of idolaters maintained their positions around Saint -Pantaleone. Atrocious vituperations against Saint Gonselvo burst out -amongst the brandished scythes and sickles. - -“Thief! Thief! Loafer! The candles!... The candles!” - -Other groups besieged the doors of the houses with blows of -hatchets. And, as the doors unhinged shattered and fell, the howling -Pantaleonites burst inside, ready to kill. Half nude women fled to the -corners, imploring pity and, trying to defend themselves from the blows -by grasping the weapons and cutting their fingers, they rolled extended -on the pavement in the midst of heaps of coverings and sheets from -which oozed their flaccid turnip-fed flesh. - -Giacobbe, tall, slender, flushed, a bundle of dried bones rendered -formidable by passion, director of the slaughter, stopped everywhere in -order to make a broad, commanding gesture above all heads with his huge -scythe. He walked in the front ranks, fearless, without a hat, in the -name of Saint Pantaleone. More than thirty men followed him. And all -had the confused and stupid sensation of walking in the midst of fire, -upon an oscillating earth, beneath a burning vault that was about to -shake down upon them. - -But from all sides defenders began to assemble; the Mascalicesi, strong -and dark as mulattoes, sanguinary, who struck with long unyielding -knives, and tore the stomach and throat, accompanying each blow with -guttural cries. The fray drew little by little toward the church, from -the roofs of two or three houses burst flames, a horde of women and -children escaped precipitately among the olives, seized with panic and -no longer with light in their eyes. - -Then among the men, without the handicap of the women’s tears and -laments, the hand-to-hand struggle grew more ferocious. Beneath the -rust-coloured sky the earth was covered with corpses. Vituperations, -choked within the teeth of the slain, resounded, and ever above -the clamour continued the shout of the Radusani, “The candles! The -candles!” - -But the entrance of the church was barred by an enormous door of oak -studded with nails. The Mascalicesi defended it from the blows and -hatchets. The Saint of silver, impassive and white, oscillated in -the thick of the fray, still sustained upon the shoulders of the four -Hercules, who, although bleeding from head to foot, refused to give up. -The supreme vow of the attackers was to place the idol on the altar of -the enemy. - -Now while the Mascalicesi raged like prodigious lions on the stone -steps, Giacobbe disappeared suddenly and skirted the rear of the -edifice for an undefended opening by which he could penetrate the -sacristy. Finally he discovered an aperture at a slight distance from -the ground, clambered up, remained fixed there, held fast at the hips -by its narrowness, twisted and turned, until at length he succeeded in -forcing his long body through the opening. - -The welcome aroma of incense was vanishing in the nocturnal frost of -the house of God. Groping in the dark, guided by the crashing of the -external blows, the man walked toward the door, stumbling over the -chain, and falling on his face and hands. - -Radusanian hatchets already resounded upon the hardness of the oak -doors, when he began to force the lock with an iron, breathless, -suffocated by the violent palpitation of anxiety that sapped his -strength, with his eyes blurred by indistinct flashes, with his wounds -aching and emitting a tepid stream which flowed down over his skin. - -“Saint Pantaleone! Saint Pantaleone!” shouted outside the hoarse voices -of those who felt the door yielding slowly, while they redoubled their -shouts and the blows of their hatchets. From the other side of the wood -resounded the heavy thud of bodies of those that had been murdered and -the sharp blow of a knife that had pinioned some one against the door, -nailed through the back. And it seemed to Giacobbe that the whole nave -throbbed with the beating of his wild heart. - -After a final effort, the door swung open. The Radusani rushed in -headlong with an immense shout of victory, passing over the bodies of -the dead, dragging the Saint of silver to the altar. - -An animated oscillation of reflections suddenly illuminated the -obscurity of the nave and made the gold of the candelabra glitter. -And in that glaring splendour, which now and again was intensified by -the burning of the adjacent houses, a second struggle took place. The -entangled bodies rolled upon the bricks, remained in a death grip, -balanced together here and there in their wrathful struggles, howled -and rolled beneath the benches, upon the steps of the chapels and -against the corners of the confessionals. In the symmetrical concave -of this house of God arose that icy sound of the steel that penetrates -the flesh or that grinds through the bones, that single broken groan -of a man wounded in a vital part, that rattle that the framework of the -skull gives forth when crushed with a blow, that roar of him who dreads -to die, that atrocious hilarity of him who has reached the point of -exulting in killing, all of these sounds echoed through this house of -God. And the calm odour of incense arose above the conflict. - -The silver idol had not yet reached the glory of the altar, because -the hostile forces, encircling the altar, had prevented it. Giacobbe, -wounded in many places, struck with his scythe, never yielding a palm’s -breadth of the steps which he had been the first to conquer. There -remained but two to support the Saint. The enormous white head rolled -as if drunk over the wrathful pool of blood. The Mascalicesi raged. - -Then Saint Pantaleone fell to the pavement, giving a sharp rattle that -stabbed the heart of Giacobbe deeper than any sword could have done. -As the ruddy mower darted over to lift it, a huge demon of a man with a -blow from a sickle stretched the enemy on his spine. - -Twice he arose, and two other blows hurled him down again. The blood -inundated his entire face, breast and hands, while on his shoulders -and arms the bones, laid bare by deep wounds, shone out, but still -he persisted in recovering. Maddened by his fierce tenacity of life, -three, four, five ploughmen together struck him furiously in the -stomach, thus disgorging his entrails. The fanatic fell backwards, -struck his neck on the bust of the silver Saint, turned suddenly upon -his stomach with his face pressed against the metal and with his arms -extended before him and his legs contracted under him. - -Thus was Saint Pantaleone lost. - - - - -VIII - -_MUNGIA_ - - -Through all the country of Pescara, San Silvestro, Fontanella, San -Rocco, even as far as Spoltore, and through all the farms of Vallelonga -beyond Allento and particularly in the little boroughs where sailors -meet near the mouth of the river,—through all this country, where -the houses are built of clay and of reeds, and the fire material -is supplied by drift wood from the sea, for many years a Catholic -rhapsodist with a barbarian and piratical name, who is as blind as the -ancient Homer, has been famous. - -Mungia begins his peregrinations at the beginning of spring, and ends -them with the first frosts of October. He goes about the country, -conducted by a woman and a child. Into the peaceful gardens and -the serenity of the fields he brings his lamenting religious songs, -antiphonies, preludes and responses of the offices of the dead. His -figure is so familiar to all, that even the dogs in the backyards do -not bark at his approach. He announces his advent with a trill from his -clarionet, and at the well-known signal, the old wives come out upon -the thresholds to welcome him, place his chair under the shade of a -tree in the yard, and make inquiries as to his health. All the peasants -come from their work, and form a subdued and awed circle about him, -while with their hard hands they wipe the perspiration of toil from -their foreheads, and, still holding their implements, assume a reverent -attitude. Their bare arms and legs are knotted and misshapen from the -severe toil of the fields; their twisted bodies have taken on the hue -of the earth—working in the soil from the dawn of day, they seem to -have something in common with the trees and the roots. - -A sort of religious solemnity is thrown over everything by this blind -man. It is not the sun, it is not the fulness of the earth, not the joy -of spring vegetation, not the sounds of the distant choruses that gives -to all the feeling of admiration, of devotion, and more than all, the -sadness of religion. One of the old women gives the name of a departed -relative to whom she wishes to offer songs and oblations. Mungia -uncovers his head. - -His wide shining cranium appears encircled with white hair; his whole -face, which in its quiet calm has the appearance of a mask, wrinkles -up when he takes the clarionet in his mouth. Upon his temples, under -his eyes, beside his ears, around his nostrils and at the corners -of his mouth, a thousand lines become visible, some delicate, some -deep, changing with the rhythm of the music by which he is inspired. -His nerves are at a tension, and over his jaw bones the purple veins -show, like those of the turning vine-leaves in the autumn, the lower -eyelid is turned outward, showing a reddish line, over his whole face -the tough skin is tightly drawn, giving the appearance of a wonderful -carving in relief; the light plays over the face with its short, stiff, -and badly shaved beard, and over the neck, with its deep hollows, -between the long still cords which stand out prominently, flashing -like dew upon a warty and mouldy pumpkin; and, as he plays, a thousand -vibrating minor notes float out upon the air, and the humble head takes -on an appearance of mystery. His fingers press the unsteady keys of the -box-wood clarionet, and the notes pour out. The instrument itself seems -almost human, and to breathe with life, as inanimate objects which have -been long and intimately associated with men often do; the wood has an -unctuous glare; the holes, which in the winter months become the nests -of little spiders, are still filled with cobwebs and dust; the keys are -stained with verdigris; in places beeswax has been employed to cover -up breaks; the joints are held together with paper and thread, while -about the edge one can still see the ornaments of its youth. The blind -man’s voice rises weak and uncertain, his fingers move mechanically, -searching for the notes of a prelude, or an interlude of days long -passed. - -His long, deformed hands, with knots upon the phalanges of the first -three fingers, and with the nails of his thumbs depressed and white -in colour, resemble somewhat the hands of a decrepit monkey; the backs -are of the unhealthy colour of decayed fruit, a mixture of pink, yellow -and blue shades; the palms show a net-work of lines and furrows, and -between the fingers the skin is blistered. - -When he has finished the prelude, Mungia begins to sing, “_Libera Me -Domine_,” and “_Ne Recorderis_,” slowly, and upon a modulation of five -notes. The Latin words of the song are interspersed with his native -idioms, and now and then, to fill out the metrical rhythm, he inserts -an adverb ending in _ente_, which he follows with heavy rhymes; he -raises his voice in these parts, then lowers it in the less fatiguing -lines. The name of Jesus runs often through the rhapsody; not without -a certain dramatic movement. The passion of Jesus is narrated in verses -of five lines. - -The peasants listen with an air of devotion, watching the blind man’s -mouth as he sings. In the season, the chorus of the vintagers comes -from the fields, vieing with the notes of the pious songs; Mungia, -whose hearing is weak, sings on of the mysteries of death; his lips -adhere to his toothless gums, and the saliva runs down and drips -from his chin; placing the clarionet again to his lips, he begins the -intermezzo, then takes up the rhymes again, and so continues to the -end. His recompense is a small measure of corn and a bottle of wine or -a bunch of onions, and sometimes a hen. - -He rises from his chair, a tall, emaciated figure, with bent back and -knees turning a little backward. He wears upon his head a large green -cap, and no matter what the season, he is wrapped in a peasant cloak -falling from his throat below his knees and fastened with two brass -buckles. He moves with difficulty, at times stopping to cough. - -When October comes, and the vineyards have been vintaged and the yards -are filled with mud and gravel, he withdraws into a garret, which he -shares with a tailor who has a paralytic wife, and a street pauper -with nine children who are variously afflicted with scrofula and the -rickets. On pleasant days he is taken to the arch of Portanova, and -sits upon a rock in the sun, while he softly sings the “_De Profundis_” -to keep his throat in condition. On these occasions, mendicants of -all sorts gather around him, men with dislocated limbs, hunchbacks, -cripples, paralytics, lepers, women covered with wounds and scabs, -toothless women, and those without eyebrows and without hair; children, -green as locusts, emaciated, with sharp, savage eyes, like birds of -prey; taciturn, with mouths already withered; children who bear in -their blood diseases inherited from the monster Poverty; all of that -miserable, degenerate rabble, the remnants of a decrepit race. These -ragged children of God come to gather about the singer, and speak to -him as one of themselves. - -Then Mungia graciously begins to sing to the waiting crowd. Chiachiu, -a native of Silvi, approaches, dragging himself with great difficulty, -helping himself with the palms of his hands, on which he wears a -covering of leather; when he reaches the group about Mungia, he -stops, holding in his hands his right foot, which is twisted and -contorted like a root. Strigia, an uncertain, repugnant figure, a -senile hermaphrodite with bright red carbuncles covering neck and -grey locks on the temples, of which the creature seems to be proud, -the top and back of the head covered with wool like a vulture, next -approaches. Then come the Mammalucchi, three idiot brothers, who seem -to have been brought forth from the union of man and goat, so manifest -in their faces are the ovine features. The oldest of the three has -some soft, degenerated bulbs protruding from the orbs of his eyes, -of a bluish colour, much like oval bags of pulp about to rot. The -peculiar affliction of the youngest is in his ear, the lobe of which -is abnormally inflated, and of the violet hue of a fig. The three come -together, with bags of strings upon their backs. - -The Ossei comes also, a lean, serpent-like man with an olive-coloured -face, a flat nose with a singular aspect of malice and deceit, which -betrays his gipsy origin, and eyelids which turn up like those of -a pilot who sails over stormy seas. Following him is Catalana di -Gissi, a woman of uncertain age, her skin covered with long reddish -blisters, and on her forehead spots looking like copper coins, -hipless, like a bitch after confinement: she is called the Venus of -the Mendicants,—the fountain of Love at which all the thirsty ones are -quenched. - -Then comes Jacobbe of Campli, an old man with greenish-coloured hair -like some of the mechanics’ work in brass; then industrious Gargala in -a vehicle built of the remains of broken boats, still smeared with tar; -then Constantino di Corropoli, the cynic, whose lower lip has a growth -which gives him the appearance of holding a piece of raw meat between -his teeth. And still they come, inhabitants of the woods who have moved -along the course of the river from the hills to the sea; all gather -around the rhapsodist in the sun. - -Mungia then sings with studied gestures and strange postures. His soul -is filled with exaltation, an aureole of glory surrounds him, for now -he gives himself freely to his Muse, unrestrained in his singing. He -scarcely hears the clamour of applause which arises from the swarming -mendicants as he closes. - -At the end of the song, as the warm sun has left the spot where the -group is assembled and is climbing the Corinthian columns of the arch -of the Capitol, the mendicants bid the blind man farewell and disperse -through the neighbouring lands. Usually Chiachiu di Silvi, holding his -deformed foot, and the dwarfed brothers remain after the others have -gone, asking alms of passers-by, while Mungia sits silent, thinking, -perhaps, of the triumphs of his youth when Lucicoppelle, Golpo di -Casoli, and Quattorece were alive. - -Oh, the glorious band of Mungia! The small orchestra had won through -all the lower valley of Pescara a lofty fame. Golpo di Casoli played -the viola. He was a greyish little man, like the lizards on the rocks, -with the skin of his face and neck wrinkled and membranous like that of -a turtle boiled in water. He wore a sort of Phrygian cap which covered -his ears on the sides. He played on his viola with quick gestures, -pressing the instrument with his sharp chin and with his contracted -fingers hammering the keys in an ostentatious effort, as do the monkeys -of wandering mountebanks. - -After him came Quattorece with his bass viol slung over his stomach by -a strap of ass-leather; he was as tall and thin as a wax candle, and -throughout his person was a predominance of orange tints; he looked -like one of those monochromatic painted figures in stiff attitudes -which ornament some of the poetry of Castelli; his eyes shone with -the yellow transparency of a shepherd dog’s, the cartilage of his -great ears opened like those of a bat against which an orange light -is thrown, his clothes were of some tobacco-coloured cloth, such as -hunters usually wear; while his old viol, ornamented with feathers, -with silver adornments, bows, images, and medals, looked like some -barbarian instrument from which one might expect strange sounds -to issue. But Lucicoppelle, holding across his chest his rough, -two-stringed guitar, well tuned in diapason, came in last, with the -bold, dancing step of a rustic Figaro. He was the joyful spirit of the -orchestra, the greenest one in age and strength, the liveliest and the -brightest. A heavy tuft of crisp hair fell over his forehead under -a scarlet cap, and in his ears shone womanlike, two silver clasps. -He loved wine as a musical toast. To serenades in honour of beauty, -to open-air dances, to gorgeous, boisterous feasts, to weddings, to -christenings, to votive feasts and funeral rites, the band of Mungia -would hasten, expected and acclaimed. The nuptial procession would move -through the streets strewn with bulrush blossoms and sweet-scented -herbs, greeted with joyful shouts and salutes. Five mules, decorated -with wreaths, carried the wedding presents. In a cart drawn by two oxen -whose harness was wound with ribbons, and whose backs were covered -with draperies, were seated the bridal couple; from the cart dangled -boilers, earthen vessels, and copper pots, which shook and rattled with -the jolting of the vehicle; chairs, tables, sofas, all sorts of antique -shapes of household furniture oscillated, creaking, about them; damask -skirts, richly figured with flowers, embroidered waist-coats, silken -aprons, and all sorts of articles of women’s apparel shone in the sun -in bright array, while a distaff, the symbol of domestic virtue, piled -on top with the linen, was outlined against the blue sky like a golden -staff. - -The women relatives, carrying upon their heads baskets of grain, -upon the top of which was a loaf, and upon the loaf a flower, came -next in hierarchical order, singing as they walked. This train of -simple, graceful figures reminded one of the canephoræ in the Greek -bas-reliefs. Reaching the house, the women took the baskets from their -heads, and threw a handful of wheat at the bride, pronouncing a ritual -augury, invoking fecundity and abundance. The mother, also, observed -the ceremony of throwing grain, weeping copiously as with a brush she -touched her daughter on the chest, shoulders and forehead, and speaking -doleful words of love as she did so. - -Then in the courtyard, under a roof of branches, the feast began. -Mungia, who had not yet lost his eyesight nor felt the burden of -years upon him, erect in all the magnificence of a green coat, -perspiring and beaming, blew with all the power of his lungs upon -his clarionet, beating time with his foot. Golpo di Casoli struck his -violin energetically, Quattorece exerted himself in a wild endeavour to -keep up with the crescendo of the Moorish dance, while Lucicoppelle, -standing straight with his head up, holding aloft in his left hand -the key of his guitar, and with the right pricking on two strings -the metric chords, looked down at the women, laughing gaily among the -flowers. - -Then the “Master of Ceremonies” brought in the viands on large -painted plates and the cloud of vapour rising from the hot dishes -faded away among the foliage of the trees. The amphoras of wine, with -their well-worn handles, were passed around from one to another, the -men stretched their arms out across the table between the loaves of -bread, scattered with anise seeds, and the cheese cakes, round as full -moons, and helped themselves to olives, oranges and almonds. The smell -of spice mingled with the fresh, vaporous odour of the vegetables; -sometimes the guests offered the bride goblets of wine in which were -small pieces of jewelry, or necklaces of great grape stones like a -string of golden fruit. After a while the exhilarating effects of the -liquor began to be felt, and the crowd grew hilarious with Bacchic joy -and then Mungia, advancing with uncovered head and holding in his hands -a glass filled to the rim, would sing the beautiful deistic ritual -which to feasters throughout the land of Abruzzi gave a disposition for -friendly toasts: - -“To the health of all these friends of mine, united, I drink this wine -so pure and fine.” - - - - -IX - -_THE DOWNFALL OF CANDIA_ - - -I - -Three days after the customary Easter banquet, which in the house -Lamonica was always sumptuous and crowded with feasters by virtue of -its traditions, Donna Cristina Lamonica counted her table linen and -silver while she placed each article systematically in chest and safe, -ready for future similar occasions. - -With her, as usual, at this task and aiding, were the maid Maria -Bisaccia and the laundress Candida Marcanda, popularly known as -“Candia.” The large baskets heaped with fine linen rested in a row -on the pavement. The vases of silver and the other table ornaments -sparkled upon a tray; they were solidly fashioned, if somewhat rudely, -by rustic silversmiths, in shape almost liturgical, as are all of the -vases that the rich provincial families hand down from generation to -generation. The fresh fragrance of bleached linen permeated the room. - -Candia took from the baskets the doilies, the table cloths and the -napkins, had the “signora” examine the linen intact, and handed one -piece after another to Maria, who filled up the drawers while the -“signora” scattered through the spaces an aroma, and took notes in a -book. Candia was a tall woman, large-boned, parched, fifty years of -age; her back was slightly curved from bending over in that position -habitual to her profession; she had very long arms and the head of a -bird of prey resting upon the neck of a tortoise. Maria Bisaccia was an -Ortonesian, a little fleshy, of milk-white complexion, also possessing -very clear eyes; she had a soft manner of speaking and made slow, -delicate gestures like one who was accustomed habitually to exercise -her hands amongst sweet pastry, syrups, preserves and confectionery. -Donna Cristina, also a native of Ortona, educated in a Benedictine -monastery, was small of stature, dressed somewhat carelessly, with hair -of a reddish tendency, a face scattered with freckles, a nose long and -thick, bad teeth, and most beautiful and chaste eyes which resembled -those of a priest disguised as a woman. - -The three women attended to the work with much assiduity, spending thus -a large part of the afternoon. - -At length, just as Candia went out with the empty baskets, Donna -Cristina counted the pieces of silver and found that a spoon was -missing. - -“Maria! Maria!” she cried, suddenly panic-stricken. “One spoon is -lacking.... Count them! Quick!” - -“But how? It cannot be, Signora,” Maria answered. “Allow me a glance -at them.” She began to re-sort the pieces, calling their numbers -aloud. Donna Cristina looked on and shook her head. The silver clinked -musically. - -“An actual fact!” Maria exclaimed at last with a motion of despair. -“And now what are we to do?” - -She was quite above suspicion. She had given proof of fidelity and -honesty for fifteen years in that family. She had come from Ortona with -Donna Cristina at the time of her marriage, almost constituting a part -of the marriage portion, and had always exercised a certain authority -in the household under the protection of the “signora.” She was full -of religious superstition, devoted to her especial saint and her -especial church, and finally, she was very astute. With the “signora” -she had united in a kind of hostile alliance to everything pertaining -to Pescara, and especially to the popular saint of these Pescaresian -people. On every occasion she quoted the country of her birth, its -beauties and riches, the splendours of its basilica, the treasures -of San Tomaso, the magnificence of its ecclesiastical ceremonies -in contrast to the meagreness of San Cetteo, which possessed but a -solitary, small, holy arm of silver. - -At length Donna Cristina said, “Look carefully everywhere.” - -Maria left the room to begin a search. She penetrated all the angles -of the kitchen and loggia, but in vain, and returned at last with empty -hands. - -“There is no such thing about! Neither here nor there!” she cried. -Then the two set themselves to thinking, to heaping up conjectures, to -searching their memories. - -They went out on the loggia that bordered the court, on the loggia -belonging to the laundry, in order to make a final examination. As -their speech grew louder, the occupants of the neighbouring houses -appeared at their windows. - -“What has befallen you? Donna Cristina, tell us! Tell us!” they cried. -Donna Cristina and Maria recounted their story with many words and -gestures. - -“Jesu! Jesu! then there must be thieves among us!” In less than no -time the rumour of this theft spread throughout the vicinity, in fact -through all of Pescara. Men and women fell to arguing, to surmising, -whom the thief might be. The story on reaching the most remote house of -Sant’ Agostina, was huge in proportions; it no longer told of a single -spoon, but of all the silver of the Lamonica house. - -Now, as the weather was beautiful and the roses in the loggia had -commenced to bloom, and two canaries were singing in their cages, the -neighbours detained one another at the windows for the sheer pleasure -of chattering about the season with its soothing warmth. The heads of -the women appeared amongst the vases of basil, and the hubbub they made -seemed especially to please the cats in the caves above. - -Donna Cristina clasped her hands and cried, “Who could it have been?” - -Donna Isabella Sertale, nicknamed “The Cat,” who had the stealthy, -furtive movements of a beast of prey, called in a twanging voice, “Who -has been with you this long time, Donna Cristina? It seems to me that I -have seen Candia come and go.” - -“A-a-a-h!” exclaimed Donna Felicetta Margasanta, called “The Magpipe,” -because of her everlasting garrulity. - -“Ah!” the other neighbours repeated in turn. - -“And you had not thought of her?” - -“And did you not observe her?” - -“And don’t you know of what metal Candia is made?” - -“We would do well to tell you of her!” - -“That we would!” - -“We would do well to tell you!” - -“She washes the clothes in goodly fashion, there is none to dispute -that. She is the best laundress that dwells in Pescara, one cannot help -saying that. But she holds a defect in her five fingers. Did you not -know that, now?” - -“Once two of my doilies disappeared.” - -“And I missed a tablecloth.” - -“And I a shift shirt.” - -“And I three pairs of stockings.” - -“And I two pillow-cases.” - -“And I a new skirt.” - -“And I failed to recover an article.” - -“I have lost——” - -“And I, too.” - -“I have not driven her out, for who is there to fill her place?” - -“Silvestra?” - -“No! No!” - -“Angelantonia? Balascetta?” - -“Each worse than the other!” - -“One must have patience.” - -“But a spoon, think of that!” - -“It’s too much! it is!” - -“Don’t remain silent about it, Donna Cristina, don’t remain silent!” - -“Whether silent or not silent!” burst out Maria Bisaccia, who for -all her placid and benign expression never let a chance escape her to -oppress or put in a bad light the other servants of the house, “we will -think for ourselves!” - -In this fashion the chatter from the windows on the loggia continued, -and accusation fled from mouth to mouth throughout the entire district. - - -II - -The following morning, when Candia Marcanda had her hands in the -soap-suds, there appeared at her door-sill the town guard Biagio Pesce, -popularly known as “The Corporal.” He said to her, “You are wanted by -Signor Sindaco at the town-hall this very moment.” - -“What did you say?” asked Candia, knitting her brows without -discontinuing her task. - -“You are wanted by Signor Sindaco at the town-hall this very moment.” - -“I am wanted? And why?” Candia asked in a brusque manner. She did not -know what was responsible for this unexpected summons and therefore -reared at it like a stubborn animal before a shadow. - -“I cannot know the reason,” answered the Corporal. “I have received but -an order.” - -“What order?” - -The woman because of an obstinacy natural to her could not refrain from -questions. She was unable to realise the truth. - -“I am wanted by Signor Sindaco? And why? And what have I done? I have -no wish to go there. I have done nothing unseemly.” - -Then the Corporal cried impatiently, “Ah, you do not wish to go there? -You had better beware!” And he went away muttering, with his hand on -the hilt of his shabby sword. - -Meanwhile several who had heard the dialogue came from their doorways -into the street and began to stare at the laundress, who was violently -attacking her wash. Since they knew of the silver spoon they laughed -at one another and made remarks that the laundress did not understand. -Their ridicule and ambiguous expressions filled the heart of the -woman with much uneasiness, which increased when the Corporal appeared -accompanied by another guard. - -“Now move on!” he said resolutely. - -Candia wiped her arms in silence and went. Throughout the square -everyone stopped to look. Rosa Panara, an enemy, from the threshold of -her shop, called with a fierce laugh, “Drop the bone thou hast picked -up!” - -The laundress, bewildered, unable to imagine the cause of this -persecution, could not answer. - -Before the town-hall stood a group of curious people who waited to see -her pass. Candia, suddenly seized with a wrathful spirit, mounted the -stairs quickly, came into the presence of Signor Sindaco out of breath, -and asked, “Now, what do you want with me?” - -Don Silla, a man of peaceable temperament, remained for a moment -somewhat taken aback by the sharp voice of the laundress and turned a -beseeching look upon the faithful custodians of the communal dignity. -Then he took some tobacco from a horn-box and said, “Be seated, my -daughter.” - -Candia remained upon her feet. Her hooked nose was inflated with -choler, and her cheeks, roughly seamed, trembled from the contraction -of her tightly compressed jaws. - -“Speak quickly, Don Silla!” she cried. - -“You were occupied yesterday in carrying back the clean linen to Donna -Cristina Lamonica?” - -“Well, and what of it? Is she missing something? Everything was counted -piece by piece ... nothing was lacking. Now, what is it all about?” - -“One moment, my daughter! The room had silver in it...!” - -Candia, divining the truth, turned upon him like a viper about to -sting. At the same time her thin lips trembled. - -“The room had silver in it,” he continued, “and now Donna Cristina -finds herself lacking one spoon. Do you understand, my daughter? Was it -taken by you ... through mistake?” - -Candia jumped like a grasshopper at this undeserved accusation. In -truth she had stolen nothing. “Ah, I? I?” she cried. “Who says I took -it? Who has seen me in such an act? You fill me with amazement ... you -fill me with wonder! Don Silla! I a thief? I? I?...” - -And her indignation had no limit. She was even more wounded by this -unjust accusation because she felt herself capable of the deed which -they had attributed to her. - -“Then you have not taken it?” Don Silla interrupted, withdrawing -prudently into the depths of his large chair. - -“You fill me with amazement!” Candia chided afresh, while she shook her -long hands as if they were two whips. - -“Very well, you may go. We will see in time.” Without saying good-bye, -Candia made her exit, striking against the door-post as she did so. -She had become green in the face and was beside herself with rage. -On reaching the street and seeing the crowd assembled there, she -understood at length that popular opinion was against her, that no one -believed in her innocence. Nevertheless she began publicly to exculpate -herself. The people laughed and drifted away from her. In a wrathful -state of mind she returned home, sank into a condition of despair and -fell to weeping in her doorway. - -Don Donato Brandimarte, who lived next door, said to her by way of a -joke: - -“Cry aloud, Candia. Cry to the full extent of your strength, for the -people are about to pass now.” - -As there were clothes lying in a heap waiting to be boiled clean she -finally grew quiet, bared her arms and set herself to work. While -working, she brooded on how to clear her character, constructed -a method of defence, sought in her cunning, feminine thoughts an -artificial means for proving her innocence; balancing her mind -subtly in mid-air, she had recourse to all of those expedients which -constitute an ignorant argument, in order to present a defence that -might persuade the incredulous. - -Later, when she had finished her task, she went out and went first to -Donna Cristina. - -Donna Cristina would not see her. Maria Bisaccia listened to Candia’s -prolific words and shook her head without reply and at length left her -in a dignified way. - -Then Candia visited all of her customers. To each one she told her -story, to each one she laid bare her defence, always adding to it a new -argument, ever increasing the size of the words, becoming more heated -and finally despairing in the presence of incredulity and distrust as -all was useless. She felt at last that an explanation was no longer -possible. A kind of dark discouragement fastened upon her mind. What -more could she do! What more could she say! - - -III - -Donna Cristina Lamonica, meanwhile, sent for La Cinigia, a woman of the -ignorant masses, who followed the profession of magic and unscientific -medicine. Previously, La Cinigia had several times discovered stolen -goods and some said that she had underhand dealings with the thieves. - -Donna Cristina said to her, “Recover the spoon for me and I will give -you a rich present.” - -La Cinigia answered, “Very well. Twenty-four hours will suffice me.” -And after twenty-four hours she brought the news, “The spoon is to be -found in the court in a hole adjacent to the sewer.” Donna Cristina and -Maria descended to the court, searched, and to their great astonishment -found the missing piece. - -The news spread rapidly throughout Pescara. Then in triumph, Candia -Marcanda immediately began to frequent the streets. She seemed taller, -held her head more erect and smiled into the eyes of everyone as if to -say, “Now you have seen for yourselves?” - -The people in the shops, when she passed by, murmured something and -then broke into laughter. Filippo Selvi, who was drinking a glass of -brandy in the Café d’Angeladea, called to Candia, “Over here is a glass -waiting for Candia.” - -The woman, who loved ardent liquor, moved her lips greedily. - -Filippo Selvi added, “And you are deserving of it, there is no doubt of -that.” - -A crowd of idlers had assembled before the café. All wore a teasing -expression upon their countenances. Filippo La Selvi having turned to -his audience while the woman was drinking, vouchsafed, “And she knew -how to find it, did she? The old fox....” - -He struck familiarly the bony shoulder of the laundress by way of -prelude. - -Everyone laughed. - -Magnafave, a small hunchback, defective in body and speech and halting -on the syllables, cried: - -“Ca-ca-ca—Candia—a—and—Cinigia!” He followed this with -gesticulations and wary stutterings, all of which implied that Candia -and La Cinigia were in league. At this the crowd became convulsed with -mirth. - -Candia remained dazed for a moment with the glass in her hand. Then of -a sudden she understood. They still did not believe in her innocence. -They were accusing her of having secretly carried back the spoon, in -agreement with the fortune-teller as to the placing of it, in order to -escape disgrace. - -At this thought, the blind grip of rage seized her. She could not -find words for speech. She threw herself upon the weakest of her -tormentors, which was the small hunchback, and belaboured him with -blows and scratches. The crowd, taking a cruel pleasure in witnessing -the scuffle, cheered itself into a circle as if watching the struggle -of two animals, and encouraged both combatants with cries and -gesticulations. - -Magnafave, terrified by her unexpected madness, sought to flee, dodging -like a monkey; but, detained by those terrible hands of the laundress, -he whirled with ever-increasing velocity, like a stone from a sling, -until at length he fell upon his face with great violence. - -Several ran forward to raise him. Candia withdrew in the midst of -hisses, shut herself up in her house, threw herself across her bed, -weeping and biting her fingers. This latest accusation burnt into her -more than the former, particularly because she realised that she was -capable of such a subterfuge. How to disentangle herself now? How make -the truth clear? She grew desperate on thinking that she could not -bring to the aid of her argument any material difficulties that might -have hindered the execution of such a deceit. Access to the court was -very easy; a never closed door was on the first landing-place of a -large staircase and in order to dispose of waste matter and to attend -to other diverse duties, a quantity of people passed freely in and -out of that doorway. Therefore she could not close the mouths of her -accusers by saying, “How could I have got in there?” The means for -accomplishing such an undertaking were many and simple, and on this -very lack of obstacles popular opinion chose to establish itself. - -Candia therefore sought different persuasive arguments; she sharpened -all her cunning, imagined three, four, five separate circumstances -that might easily account for the finding of the spoon in that hole; -she took refuge in mental turnings and twistings of every kind and -subtilised with singular ingenuity. Later she began to go around from -shop to shop, from house to house, straining in every way to overcome -the incredulity of the people. - -At first they listened to her enticing arguments for a diversion. -At last they said, “Oh, very well! Very well!” But with a certain -inflection of the voice which left Candia crushed. All her efforts then -were useless. No one believed! - -With an astonishing persistency, she returned to the siege. She -passed entire nights pondering on new reasons, how to construct -new explanations, to overcome new obstacles. Little by little, from -the continuous absorption, her mind weakened, could not entertain -any thought save that of the spoon, and had scarcely any longer any -realisation of the events of every day life. Later, through the cruelty -of the people, a veritable mania arose in the mind of the poor woman. - -She neglected her duties and was reduced almost to penury. She washed -the clothes badly, lost and tore them. When she descended to the bank -of the river under the iron-bridge where the other laundresses had -collected, at times she let escape from her hands garments which the -current snatched and they were gone forever. She babbled continuously -on the same subject. To drown her out the young laundresses set -themselves to singing and to bantering one another from their places -with impromptu verses. She shouted and gesticulated like a mad woman. - -No one any longer gave her work. Out of compassion for her, her former -customers sent her food. Little by little the habit of begging settled -upon her. She walked the streets, ragged, bent, and dishevelled. -Impertinent boys called after her, “Now tell us the story of the spoon, -that we may know about it, do, Candia!” - -She stopped sometimes unknown passersby to recount her story and to -wander into the mazes of her defence. The scapegoats of the town hailed -her and for a cent made her deliver her narration three, four times; -they raised objections to her arguments and were attentive to the end -of the tale for the sake of wounding her at last with a single word. -She shook her head, moved on and clung to other feminine beggars and -reasoned with them, always, always indefatigable and unconquerable. She -took a fancy to a deaf woman whose skin was afflicted with a kind of -reddish leprosy, and who was lame in one leg. - -In the winter of 1874 a malignant fever seized her. Donna Cristina -Lamonica sent her a cordial and a hand-warmer. The sick woman, -stretched on her straw pallet, still babbled about the spoon. She -raised on her elbows, tried to motion with her hands in order to assist -in the summing up of her conclusions. The leprous woman took her hands -and gently soothed her. - -In her last throes, when her enlarged eyes were already being veiled -behind some suffusing moisture that had mounted to them from within, -Candia murmured, “I was not the one, Signor ... you see ... because ... -the spoon....” - - - - -X - -_THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF OFENA_ - - -I - -When the first confused clamour of the rebellion reached Don Filippo -Cassaura, he suddenly opened his eyelids, that weighed heavily upon his -eyes, inflamed around the upturned lids, like those of pirates who sail -through stormy seas. - -“Did you hear?” he asked of Mazzagrogna, who was standing nearby, while -the trembling of his voice betrayed his inward fear. - -The majordomo answered, smiling, “Do not be afraid, Your Excellency. -Today is St. Peter’s day. The mowers are singing.” - -The old man remained listening, leaning on his elbow and looking -over the balcony. The hot south wind was fluttering the curtains. The -swallows, in flocks, were darting back and forth as rapidly as arrows -through the burning air. All the roofs of the houses below glared with -reddish and greyish tints. Beyond the roofs was extended the vast, rich -country, gold in colour, like ripened wheat. - -Again the old man asked, “But Giovanni, have you heard?” - -And indeed, clamours, which did not seem to indicate joy, reached their -ears. The wind, rendering them louder at intervals, pushing them and -intermingling with its whistling noise, made them appear still more -strange. - -“Do not mind that, Your Excellency,” answered Mazzagrogna. “Your ears -deceive you.” - -“Keep quiet.” And he arose to go towards one of the balconies. - -He was a thick-set man, bow-legged, with enormous hands, covered with -hair on the backs like a beast. His eyes were oblique and white, like -those of the Albinos. His face was covered with freckles. A few red -hairs straggled upon his temples and the bald top of his head was -flecked with dark projections in the shape of chestnuts. - -He remained standing for a while, between the two curtains, inflated -like sails, in order to watch the plain beneath. Thick clouds of -dust, rising from the road of the Fara, as after the passing of -immense flocks of sheep, were swept by the wind and grew into shapes -of cyclones. From time to time these whirling clouds caused whistling -sounds, as if they encompassed armed people. - -“Well?” asked Don Filippo, uneasily. - -“Nothing,” repeated Mazzagrogna, but his brows were contracted. - -Again the impetuous rush of wind brought a tumult of distant cries. - -One of the curtains, blown by the wind, began to flutter and wave in -the air like an inflated flag. A door was suddenly shut with violence -and noise, the glass panel trembled from the shock. The papers, -accumulated upon the table, were scattered around the room. - -“Do close it! Do close it!” cried the old man, with emotional terror. - -“Where is my son?” - -He was lying upon the bed, suffocated by his fleshiness, and unable to -rise, as all the lower part of his body was deadened by paralysis. A -continuous paralytic tremor agitated his muscles. His hands, lying on -the bed sheets, were contorted, like the roots of old olive trees. A -copious perspiration dripped from his forehead and from his bald head, -and dropped from his large face, which had a pinkish, faded colour, -like the gall of oxen. - -“Heavens!” murmured Mazzagrogna, between his teeth, as he closed the -shutters vehemently. “They are in earnest!” - -One could now perceive upon this road of Fara, near the first house, a -multitude of men, excited and wavering, like the overflow of rivulets, -which indicated a still greater multitude of people, invisible, hidden -by the rows of roofs and by the oak trees of San Pio. The auxiliary -legion of the country had met the one of the rebellion. Little by -little the crowd would diminish, entering the roads of the country -and disappearing like an army of ants through the labyrinth of the ant -hill. - -The suffocated cries, echoing from house to house, reached them now, -like a continuous but indistinct rumbling. At moments there was silence -and then you could hear the great fluttering of the ash trees in front -of the palace, which seemed as if already abandoned. - -“My son! Where is he?” again asked the old man, in a quivering, -squeaking voice. “Call him! I wish to see him.” - -He trembled upon his bed, not only because he was a paralytic, but also -because of fear. - -At the time of the first seditious movement of the day before, at the -cries of about a hundred youths, who had come under the balcony to -shout against the latest extortions of the Duke of Ofena, he had been -overcome by such a foolish fright, that he had wept like a little girl, -and had spent the night invoking the Saints of Paradise. The thought -of death and of his danger gave rise to an indescribable terror in that -paralytic old man, already half dead, in whom the last breaths of life -were so painful. He did not wish to die. - -“Luigi! Luigi!” he began to cry in his anguish. - -All the place was filled with the sharp rattling of the window glasses, -caused by the rush of the wind. From time to time one could hear the -banging of a door, and the sound of precipitate steps and sharp cries. - -“Luigi!” - - -II - -The Duke ran up. He was somewhat pale and excited, although -endeavouring to control himself. He was tall and robust, his beard -still black on his heavy jaws. From his mouth, full and imperious, came -forth explosive outbursts; his voracious eyes were troubled; his strong -nose, covered with red spots, quivered. - -“Well, then?” asked Don Filippo, breathlessly, with a rattling sound, -as though suffocated. - -“Do not fear, father, I am here,” answered the Duke, approaching the -bed and trying to smile. - -Mazzagrogna was standing in front of one of the balconies, looking out -attentively. No cries reached them now and no one was to be seen. - -The sun, gradually descending in the clear sky, was like a rosy circle -of flames, enlarging and glaring over the hill-tops. All the country -around seemed to burn and the southwest wind resembled a breath from -the fire. The first quarter of the moon arose through the groves of -Lisci. Poggio, Revelli, Ricciano, Rocca of Forca, were seen through the -window panes, revealed by distant flashes of lightning, and from time -to time the sound of bells could be heard. A few incendiary fires began -to glow here and there. The heat was suffocating. - -“This,” said the Duke of Ofena, in his hoarse, harsh voice, “comes from -Scioli, but——” - -He made a menacing gesture, then he approached Mazzagrogna. - -He felt uneasy, because Carletto Grua could not yet be seen. He paced -up and down the hall with a heavy step. He then detached from a hook -two long, old-fashioned pistols, examining them carefully. The father -followed his every movement with dilated eyes, breathing heavily, -like a calf in agony, and now and then he shook the bed cover with his -deformed hands. He asked two or three times of Mazzagrogna, “What can -you see?” - -Suddenly Mazzagrogna exclaimed, “Here comes Carletto, running with -Gennaro.” - -You could hear, in fact, the furious blows upon the large gate. Soon -after, Carletto and the servant entered the room, pale, frightened, -stained with blood and covered with dust. - -The Duke, on perceiving Carletto, uttered a cry. He took him in his -arms and began to feel him all over his body, to find the wounds. - -“What have they done to you? What have they done to you? Tell me!” - -The youth was weeping like a girl. - -“There,” said he, between his sobs. He lowered his head and pointed -on the top, to some bunches of hair, sticking together with congealed -blood. - -The Duke passed his fingers softly through the hair to discover the -wounds. He loved Carletto Grua, and had for him a lover’s solicitude. - -“Does it hurt you?” he asked. - -The youth sobbed more vehemently. He was slender, like a girl, with an -effeminate face, hardly shaded by an incipient blond beard, his hair -was rather long, he had a beautiful mouth, and the sharp voice of an -eunuch. He was an orphan, the son of a confectioner of Benevento. He -acted as valet to the Duke. - -“Now they are coming,” he said, his whole frame trembling, turning -his eyes, filled with tears, towards the balcony, from which came the -clamours, louder and more terrible. - -The servant, who had a deep wound upon his shoulder, and his arm up -to the elbow all stained with blood, was telling falteringly how they -had both been overtaken by the maddened mob, when Mazzagrogna, who had -remained watching, cried out, “Here they are! They are coming to the -palace. They are armed!” - -Don Luigi, leaving Carletto, ran to look out. - - -III - -In truth, a multitude of people, rushing up the wide incline with such -united fury, shouting and shaking their weapons and their tools, did -not resemble a gathering of individuals, but rather the overflow of a -blind mass of matter, urged on by an irresistible force. - -In a few moments, the mob was beneath the palace, stretching around it -like an octopus, with many arms, and enclosing the whole edifice in a -surging circle. - -Some among the rebels carried large bunches of lighted sticks, -like torches, casting over their faces a mobile, reddish light and -scattering sparks and burning cinders, which caused noisy, crackling -sounds. Some, in a compact group, were carrying a pole, from the top -of which hung the corpse of a man. They were threatening death, with -gestures and cries. With hatred they were shouting the name, “Cassaura! -Cassaura!” - -The Duke of Ofena threw up his hands in despair upon recognising on the -top of the pole the mutilated body of Vincenzio Murro, the messenger he -had sent during the night to ask for help from the soldiers. He pointed -out the hanging body to Mazzagrogna, who said, in a low voice, “It is -the end!” - -Don Filippo, however, heard him, and began to give forth such a -rattling sound that they all felt their hearts oppressed and their -courage failing them. - -The servants, with pale faces, ran to the threshold, and were held -there by cowardice. Some were crying and invoking their Saints, while -others were contemplating treachery. “If we should give up our master -to the people, they might, perhaps, spare our lives.” - -“To the balcony! To the balcony!” cried the people, breaking in. “To -the balcony!” - -At this moment, the Duke spoke aside, in a subdued voice, to -Mazzagrogna. - -Turning to Don Filippo, he said, “Place yourself in a chair, father; it -will be better for you.” - -A slight murmur arose among the servants. Two of them came forward to -help the paralytic to get out of bed. Two others stood near the chair, -which ran on rollers. The work was painful. - -The corpulent old man was panting and lamenting loudly, his arm -clinging to the neck of the servant who supported him. He was dripping -with perspiration, while the room, the shutters being closed, was -filled with an unbearable stench. When he reached the chair, his feet -began to tap on the floor with a rhythmical motion. His loose stomach -hung on his knees, like a half filled leather bag. - -Then the Duke said to Mazzagrogna, “Giovanni, it is your turn!” - -And the latter, with a resolute gesture, opened the shutters and went -out onto the balcony. - - -IV - -A sonorous shouting greeted him. Five, ten, twenty bundles of lighted -sticks were simultaneously thrust beneath the place where he was -standing. The glare illuminated the animated faces, eager for carnage, -the steel of the guns, the iron axes. The faces of the torch-bearers -were sprinkled with flour, as a protection from the sparks, and in the -midst of their whitened faces their reddish eyes shone singularly. The -black smoke arose in the air, fading away rapidly. The flames whistled -and, stretching up on one side, were blown by the wind like infernal -hair. The thinnest and dryest reeds bent over quickly, reddening, -breaking down and cracking like sky-rockets. It was a gay sight. - -“Mazzagrogna! Mazzagrogna! To death with the seducer! To death with -the crooked man!” they all cried, crowding together to throw insults at -him. - -Mazzagrogna stretched out his hands, as though to subdue the clamour; -he gathered together all his vocal force and began, in the name of the -king, as if promulgating a law to infuse respect into the people. - -“In the name of His Majesty, Ferdinando II, and by the grace of God, -King of both Sicilies, of Jerusalem——” - -“To death with the thief!” - -Two or three shots resounded among the cries, and the speaker, struck -on his chest and on his forehead, staggered, throwing his hands above -his head and falling downward. Upon falling, his head stuck between -two of the spikes of the iron railing and hung over the edge like a -pumpkin. The blood began to drip down upon the soil beneath. - -This spectacle rejoiced the people. The uproar arose to the stars. -Then the bearer of the pole holding the hanging corpse came under -the balcony and held the body of Vincenzio Murro near to that of -the majordomo. The pole was wavering in the air and the people, -dumbfounded, watched as the two bodies jolted together. An improvised -poet, alluding to the Albino-like eyes of Mazzagrogna and to the -bleared ones of the messenger, shouted these lines: - - “_Lean over the window, you fried eyes,_ - _That you may look upon the open skies!_” - -A great outburst of laughter greeted the jest of the poet and the -laughter spread from mouth to mouth like the sound of water falling -down a stony valley. - -A rival poet shouted: - - “_Look, what a blind man can see!_ - _If he closes his eyes and tries to flee._” - -The laughter was renewed. - -A third one cried out: - - “_Oh, face of a dead brute!_ - _Your crazy hair stands resolute!_” - -Many more imprecations were cast at Mazzagrogna. A ferocious joy -had invaded the hearts of the people. The sight and smell of blood -intoxicated those nearest. Tomaso of Beffi and Rocco Fuici challenged -each other to hit with a stone the hanging head of the dead man, which -was still warm, and at every blow moved and shed blood. A stone, thrown -by Rocco Fuici, at last, hit it in the centre, causing a hollow sound. -The spectators applauded, but they had had enough of Mazzagrogna. - -Again a cry arose, “Cassaura! Cassaura! To death! To death!” - -Fabrizio and Ferdinandino Scioli, pushing their way through the crowd, -were instigating the most zealous ones. A terrible shower of stones, -like a dense hailstorm, mingled with gun-shots, beat against the -windows of the palace, the window panes falling upon the assailing -hoards and the stones rebounding. A few of the bystanders were hurt. - -When they were through with the stones and had used all their bullets, -Ferdinandino Scioli cried out, “Down with the doors!” - -And the cry, repeated from mouth to mouth, shook every hope of -salvation out of the Duke of Ofena. - - -V - -No one had dared to close the balcony, where Mazzagrogna had fallen. -His corpse was lying in a contorted position. Then the rebels, in -order to be freer, had left the pole, holding the bleeding body of -the messenger, leaning against the balcony. Some of his limbs had -been cut off with a hatchet, and the body could be seen through the -curtains as they were inflated by the wind. The evening was still. The -stars scintillated endlessly. A few stubble fields were burning in the -distance. - -Upon hearing the blows against the door the Duke of Ofena wished to try -another experiment. - -Don Filippo, stupefied with terror, kept his eyes closed and was -speechless. Carletto Grua, his head bandaged, doubled up in the -corner, his teeth chattering with fever and fear, watched with his -eyes sticking out of their orbits, every gesture, every motion of his -master. The servants had found refuge in the garrets. A few of them -still remained in the adjoining rooms. - -Don Luigi gathered them together, reanimated their courage and rearmed -them with pistols and guns, and then assigned to each one his place -under the parapets of the windows, and between the shutters of the -balcony. Each one had to shoot upon the rebels with the greatest -possible celerity, silently, without exposing himself. - -“Forward!” - -The firing began. Don Luigi was placing his hopes in a panic. He was -untiringly discharging his long-range pistols with most marvellous -energy. As the multitude was dense, no shot went astray. The cries -arising after every discharge excited the servants and increased their -ardour. Already disorder invaded the mutineers. A great many were -running away, leaving the wounded on the ground. - -Then a cry of victory arose from the group of the domestics. - -“Long live the Duke of Ofena!” These cowardly men were growing brave, -as they beheld the backs of their enemy. They no longer remained -hidden, no longer shot at haphazard, but, having risen to their feet, -were aiming at the people. And every time they saw a man fall, would -cry, “Long live the Duke!” - -Within a short time the palace was freed from the siege. All around -the wounded ones lay, groaning. The residue of the sticks, which were -still burning over the ground and crackling as they died out, cast -upon the bodies uncertain flashes of light reflected in the pools of -blood. The wind had grown, striking the old oaks with a creeping sound. -The barking of dogs, answering one another, resounded throughout the -valley. - -Intoxicated by their victory and broken down with fatigue, the -domestics went downstairs to partake of some refreshments. They were -all unhurt. They drank freely and abundantly. Some of them announced -the names of those they had struck, and described the way they had -fallen. The cook was boasting of having killed the terrible Rocco -Furci; and as they became excited by the wine the boasting increased. - - -VI - -Now, while the Duke of Ofena feeling safe, for at least that night, -from any danger, was attending the whining Carletto, a glare of light -from the south was reflected in the mirror, and new clamours arose -through the gusts of the south wind beneath the palace. At the same -time four or five servants appeared, who, while sleeping, intoxicated, -in the rooms below, had been almost suffocated by the smoke. They had -not yet recovered their senses, staggering, being unable to talk, as -their tongues were thick with drink. Others came running up, shouting: - -“Fire! Fire!” - -They were trembling, leaning against one another like a herd of sheep. -Their native cowardice had again overtaken them. All their senses were -dull as in a dream. They did not know what they ought to do, nor did -the consciousness of real danger urge them to use a ruse as a means of -escape. - -Taken very much by surprise the Duke was at first perplexed. But -Carletto Grua, noticing the smoke coming in, and hearing that singular -roar which the flames make by feeding themselves, began to cry so -loudly, and to make such maddened gestures, that Don Filippo awoke from -the half drowsiness into which he had fallen, on beholding death. - -Death was unavoidable. The fire, owing to the strong wind, was -spreading with stupendous speed through the whole edifice, devouring -everything in flames. These flames ran up the walls, hugging the -tapestries, hesitating an instant over the edge of the cloth, with -clear and changeable yet vague tints penetrating through the weave, -with a thousand thin, vibrating tongues, seeming to animate, in an -instant, the mural figures, with a certain spirit, by lighting up for a -second a smile never before seen upon the mouths of the nymphs and the -Goddess, by changing in an instant their attitudes and their motionless -gestures. - -Passing on, in their still increasing flight, they would wrap -themselves around the wooden carvings, preserving to the last their -shapes, as though to make them appear to be manufactured of fiery -substance when they were suddenly consumed, turning to Cinders, as -if by magic. The voices of the flames were forming a vast choir, a -profound harmony, like the rustling of millions of weeds. At intervals, -through the roaring openings, appeared the pure sky with its galaxy of -stars. - -Now the entire palace was a prey of the fire. - -“Save me! Save me!” cried the old man, attempting in vain to get up, -already feeling the floor sinking beneath him, and almost blinded by -the implacable reddish glare. - -“Save me! Save me!” - -With a supreme effort he succeeded in rising and began to run, the -trunk of his body leaning forward, moving with little hopping steps, as -if pushed by an irresistible progressive impulse, waving his shapeless -hands, until he fell overpowered—the victim of the fire—collapsing -and curling up like an empty bladder. - -By this time the cries of the people increased and at intervals arose -above the roar of the fire. The servants, crazed with terror and pain, -jumped out of the windows, falling upon the ground dead, where if not -entirely dead they were instantly killed. With every fall a greater -clamour arose. - -“The Duke! The Duke!” the unsatisfied barbarians were crying as if they -wanted to see the little tyrant jump out with his cowardly protégé. - -“Here he comes! Here he comes! Is it he?” - -“Down! down! We want you!” - -“Die, you dog! Die! Die! Die!” - -In the large doorway, in the presence of the people, Don Luigi appeared -carrying on his shoulders the motionless body of Carletto Grua. His -whole face was burned and almost unrecognisable. He no longer had -any hair nor beard left. He was walking boldly through the fire, -endeavouring to keep his courage in spite of that atrocious pain. - -At first the crowd was dumb. Then again broke forth in shouts and -gestures, waiting ferociously for this great victim to expire before -them. - -“Here, here, you dog! We want to see you die!” - -Don Luigi heard through the flames these last insults. He gathered -together all of his will-power and stood for an instant in an attitude -of indescribable scorn. Then turning abruptly he disappeared forever -where the fire was raging fiercest. - - - - -XI - -_THE WAR OF THE BRIDGE_ - -_Fragments of the Pescarese Chronicle_ - - -Towards the middle of August—when in the fields the wheat was -bleaching dry in the sun—Antonio Mengarino, an old peasant full of -probity and wisdom, standing before the Board of the Council when they -were discussing public matters, heard some of the councillors, citizens -of the place, discoursing in low tones about the cholera, which was -spreading through the province; and he listened with close attention to -the proposals for preserving the health and for eliminating the fears -of the people and he leaned forward curiously and incredulously as he -listened. - -With him in the Council were two other peasants, Giulio Citrullo of the -Plain, and Achille di Russo of the Hills, to whom the old man would -turn from time to time, winking and grimacing insinuatingly, to warn -them of the deception which he believed was concealed in the words of -the Councillors and the Mayor. - -At last, unable to restrain himself longer, he spoke out with the -assurance of a man who knows and sees. - -“Stop your idle talk! What if there is a little cholera among us. Let -us keep the secret to ourselves.” - -At this unexpected outburst, the Councillors were taken by surprise, -then burst into laughter. - -“Go on, Mengarino! What foolishness are you talking!” exclaimed Don -Aiace, the Assessor, slapping the old man on the shoulder, while the -rest, with much shaking of heads and beating of fists upon the table, -talked of the pertinacious ignorance of the country people. - -“Well, well, but do you think we are deceived by your talk?” asked -Antonio Mengarino, with a quick gesture, hurt by the laughter which -his words had created, and in the hearts of the three peasants their -instinctive hostility toward and hatred of the upper classes were -revived. Then they were excluded from the secrets of the Council? Then -they were still considered ignoramuses? Oh, those were two galling -thoughts! - -“Do as you please. We are going,” said the old man bitterly, putting on -his hat and the three peasants left the hall in silent dignity. - -When they were outside the town, in the upland country filled with -vineyards and cornfields, Giulio Citrullo stopped to light his pipe, -and said decisively: - -“We will not mind them! We can be on our guard, and know that we shall -have to take precautions. I would not like to be in their places!” - -Meanwhile, throughout the farming country, the fear of the disease -had taken possession of all. Over the fruit trees, the vineyards, the -cisterns, and the wells, the farmers, suspicious and threatening, kept -close and indefatigable watch. Through the night frequent shots broke -the silence, and even the dogs barked till dawn. Imprecations against -the Government burst forth with greater violence from day to day. All -the peaceful labours of the farm-hands were undertaken with a sort of -carelessness; from the fields expressions of rebellion rose in songs -and rhymes, improvised by the hands. - -Then, the old men recalled instances in the past which confirmed the -suspicions about poisoning. In the year ’54, some vintagers had one day -caught a man hidden in the top of a fig-tree, and when they forced him -to descend, they noticed in his hand a vial, which he had attempted to -conceal. With dire threats they compelled him to swallow the yellowish -ointment which it contained, whereupon shortly he fell writhing in -agony with greenish foam issuing from his mouth and died within a few -minutes. In Spoltore, in the year ’57, Zinicche, a blacksmith, killed -the Chancellor, Don Antonio Rapino, in the square, after which the -mysterious deaths ceased, and the country was saved. - -Then stories began to be circulated of recent mysterious happenings. -One woman said that seven cases of poison had come to the City Hall, -sent by the Government to be distributed through the country by mixing -it with the salt. The cases were green, fastened with iron bands and -three locks. The Mayor had been obliged to pay seven thousand ducats -to bury the cases and save the country. Another story went about that -the Government paid the Mayor five ducats for every dead person because -the population was too large, and it was the poor who must die. The -Mayor was now making out a list of those selected. Ha! He would get -rich, this great signore! And so the excitement grew. The peasants -would not buy anything in the market of Pescara; the figs were left to -rot on the trees; the grapes were left among the vine-leaves; even the -nightly depredations in the orchards and vineyards did not occur, for -the robbers feared to eat poisoned fruit. The salt, which was the only -provision obtained from the city stores, was given to dogs and cats -before being used, to make sure that it was harmless. - -One day the news came that in Naples the people were dying in large -numbers and hearing the name of Naples, of that great, far-distant -kingdom where “Gianni Without Fear” made his fortune, the imaginations -of the people were inflamed. The vintage time came, but the merchants -of Lombardy bought the home grapes, and took them to the north to make -artificial wines. The luxury of new wine was scarce; the vintagers -who trampled out the juice of the grapes in the vats to the songs of -maidens, had little to do. - -But when the work of the vineyards was ended, and the fruit of the -trees was gone, the fears and suspicions of the people grew less, -for now there was little chance for the Government to scatter the -poison. Heavy, beneficent rains fell upon the country, drenching the -soil and preparing it for the ploughing and the sowing, and together -with the favour of the soft autumnal sun and the moon in its first -quarter, had its beneficent influence upon seeds. One morning through -all the country the report was spread that at Villareale, near the -oak groves of Don Settimio, over the shore of the river, three women -had died after having eaten soup made from dough bought in the city. -The indignation of every person in the country was aroused, and with -greater vehemence after the quiet of the transient security. - -“Aha! That is well! The ‘great Signore’ does not wish to renounce the -ducats!... But they cannot harm us now, for there is no more fruit to -eat, and we do not go to Pescara. The ‘great Signore’ is playing his -cards very badly. He wishes to see us die! But he has mistaken the -time, poor Signore! - -“Where can he put the poison? In the dough? In the salt?... But we -shall not eat any more dough, and we have our salt first tried by the -dogs and cats. Ha, rascally Signore! What have you done? Your day will -come, too....” - -Thus, everywhere the grumbling rose, mixed with mocking and contumely -against the men of the Commune and the Government. - -In Pescara, one after another, three, four, five persons were taken -with the disease. Evening was approaching, and over the houses hung a -funereal dread, which seemed to be mingled with the dampness arising -from the river. Through the streets the people ran frantically towards -the City Hall, where the Mayor, the Councillors, and the gendarmes, -overwhelmed with the miserable confusion, ran up and down the stairs, -all talking loudly, giving contrary orders, not knowing what action to -take, where to go, nor what to do. - -The strange occurrence and the excitement which followed it, caused -many of the people to grow slightly ill. Feeling a strange sensation in -their stomachs, they would begin to tremble, and with chattering teeth -would look into one another’s faces; then, with rapid strides, would -hasten to lock themselves in their homes, leaving their evening meals -untouched. - -Then, late in the night, when the first tumult of the panic had -subsided, the police lighted fires of sulphur and tar at the corners of -the streets. The red flames lighted up the walls and the windows, and -the unpleasant odour of manure pervaded the air of the frightened city, -and in the light of the distant moon, it looked as though the tar men -were merrily smearing the keels of vessels. Thus did the Asiatic Plague -make an entrance into Pescara. - -The disease, creeping along the river, spread through the little -seashore hamlets,—through those groups of small, low houses where the -sailors live, and where old men are engaged in small industries. - -Most of those seized with the disease died, because no amount of -reasoning and assurance, or experiments, could persuade them to take -the medicine. Anisafine, the hunchback who sold water mixed with spirit -of anise to the soldiers, when he saw the glass of the physician, -closed his lips tightly and shook his head in refusal of the potion. -The doctor tried to coax him with persuasive words and first drank half -the liquid, then the assistants each took a sip. Anisafine continued to -shake his head. - -“But don’t you see,” exclaimed the doctor, “we have been drinking? But -you....” - -Anisafine began to laugh sceptically, “Ha! ha! ha! You took the -counter-poison,” he said, and soon after he was dead. - -Cianchine, simple-minded butcher, did the same thing. The doctor, as -a last resort, poured the medicine between the man’s teeth. Cianchine -spit it out wrathfully, overwhelmed with horror. Then he began to abuse -those present, and died raging, held by two amazed gendarmes. - -The public kitchens, instituted by charitably-disposed people, were -at first thought by the peasants to be laboratories for the mixing of -poisons. The beggars would starve rather than eat meat cooked in those -boilers. Costantino di Corropoli, the cynic, went about scattering his -doubts through his circle. He would wander around the kitchens, saying -aloud with an indescribable gesture, “You can’t entrap me!” - -The woman Catalana di Gissi was the first to conquer her fears. -Hesitating a little, she entered and ate a small mouthful, waiting -to notice the effect of the food and then took a few sips of wine, -whereupon, feeling restored and fortified, she smiled with astonishment -and pleasure. All the beggars were waiting for her to come out and when -they saw her unharmed, they rushed in to eat and drink. - -The kitchens are inside an old open theatre in the neighbourhood of -Portanova. The kettles in which the food is prepared are placed where -the orchestra used to sit. The steam from them rises and fills the -old stage; through the smoke you see the scenery behind on the stage, -representing a feudal castle in the light of the full moon. Here at -noon-time gathers around a rustic table the tribe of the beggars. -Before the hour strikes, there is a swarming of multi-coloured rags -in the pit, and there arises the grumbling of hoarse voices. Some new -figures appear among the well-known ones; noteworthy among whom is a -certain woman called Liberata Lotta di Montenerodomo, stupendous as -the mythological Minerva, with a regular and austere brow and with her -hair strained tightly over her head and adhering to it like a helmet. -She holds in her hands a grass-green vase, and stands aside, taciturn, -waiting to be asked to partake. - -However, the great epic account of this chronicle of the cholera is the -War of the Bridge. - -An old feud exists between Pescara and Castellammare Adriatico, which -districts lie on either side of the river. - -The opposing factions were assiduously engaged in pillage and -reprisals, the one doing all that lay in its power to hinder the -prosperity of the other, and as the important factor in the prosperity -of a country is its commerce, and as Pescara possessed many industries -and great wealth, the people of Castellammare had long sought with much -astuteness and all manner of allurements to draw the merchants away -from the rival town. - -An old wooden bridge, built on big tarred boats chained together and -fastened to the piers, spans the river. The cables and the ropes, -which stretch from almost the height of the piers to the low parapets, -cross each other in the air, looking like some barbaric instrument. The -uneven boards creak under the weight of the wagons, and when the ranks -of the soldiers pass over, the whole of the great structure shakes and -vibrates from one end to the other, resounding like a drum. It was from -this bridge that the popular legends of Saint Cetteo, the Liberator, -originated, and the saint yearly stops in the centre with great -Catholic pomp to receive the salutes which the sailors send him from -the anchored boats. - -Thus, between the panorama of Montecorno and the sea, the humble -structure looms up like a monument of the country, and possessing -the sacredness of all monuments, gives to strangers the impression of -a people who live in primeval simplicity. As the hatred between the -Pescarese and the Castellammarese meets on this bridge, the boards -of which are worn under the daily heavy traffic, and as the trade of -the city spreads to the province of Teramo, with what joy would the -opposing faction cut the cables and push out to sea to be wrecked the -seven supporting boats. - -A good opportunity having presented itself, the leader of the enemy, -with a great display of his rural forces, prevented the Pescarese from -passing over the wide road which stretches out from the bridge far -across the country, uniting numberless villages. It was his intention -to blockade the rival city by a siege, in order to shut away from it -all internal and external traffic in order to draw to the market of -his own city the sailors and buyers who were accustomed to trade on -the right shore of the river, and having thus stagnated the business -of Pescara, and having cut off from the town all source of revenue, -to rise up in triumph. He offered to the owners of the Pescarese boats -twenty francs for every hundred pounds of fish, on condition that all -boats should land and load their cargoes on his shore, and with the -stipulation that the price should last up to the day of the Nativity -of Christ. But as the price of fish usually rose shortly before -the Nativity to fifteen ducats for every hundred pounds, the profit -to himself was evident, and the cunning of his scheme was clearly -revealed. The owners refused such an offer, preferring to allow their -nets to remain idle. - -Then the wily fellow spread the report of a great mortality in Pescara. -Professing friendship for the province of Teramo he succeeded in -rousing both that province and Chieti against the peaceful city, from -which the plague had really disappeared entirely. He waylaid and kept -prisoners some honest passers-by who were exercising their legitimate -right to pass along this road on their way to a more distant part -of the country. He stationed a group of loafers on the border line -who kept watch from dawn to sunset, shouting out warnings to anyone -who approached. All this caused violent rebellion on the part of the -Pescarese against such unjust and arbitrary measures. The great class -of rough, ugly labourers were lounging about in idleness, and merchants -sustained severe losses from the enforced dulness of trade. The cholera -had left the city and seemed to have disappeared also from the seashore -towns, where only a few decrepit old men had died. All the citizens, -rugged and full of health and spirits, would have rejoiced to take up -their customary labours. - -Then the tribunes rose to action: Francesco Pomarice, Antonio -Sorrentino, Pietro D’Amico; and in the streets the people, divided -into groups, listened to their words, applauding, proposing, and -uttering cries. A great tumult was brewing. As an illustration, some -recounted the heart-rending tale of Moretto di Claudia, who had been -taken by force, by men paid to do the deed, and being imprisoned in the -Lazzaretto, was kept for five consecutive days without other food than -bread, at the end of which time he succeeded in escaping from a window, -swam across the river, and came to his people dripping with water, out -of breath, and overcome with exultation and joy at his escape. - -The Mayor, seeing the storm gathering, endeavoured to arbitrate with -the Great Enemy of Castellammare. The Mayor is a little fellow, a -knighted Doctor of Law, carefully dressed, curly haired, his shoulders -covered with dandruff, his small roving eyes accustomed to pleasant -simulation. The Great Enemy is a degenerate, a nephew of the good -Gargantuasso, a big fellow, puffing, exploding, devouring. The meeting -of the two took place on neutral ground, with the Prefects of Teramo -and of Chieti as witnesses. - -But towards sunset one of the guards went into Pescara to bring a -message to one of the councillors of the Commune; he went in with -another of the loafers to drink, after which he strolled about the -streets. When the tribunes saw him, they immediately gave chase. With -cries and shouts, he was driven towards the banks of the river as far -as Lazzaretto. The water glared in the light of the setting sun, and -the belligerent reddening of the air intoxicated the people. - -Then from the willow trees on the opposite shore a crowd of -Castellammarese poured out, with vehement gestures and angry protests -against the outrage. With a fury equalling their own, the Pescarese -answered their gibes. The guard, who had been imprisoned, was pounding -the door of his prison with fists and feet, crying out: - -“Open to me! Open to me!” - -“You go to sleep in there and don’t worry!” the men called to him -scornfully, while someone cruelly added: - -“Ah, if you knew how many have been killed down there! Don’t you smell -the blood? Doesn’t it make you sick?” - -“Hurrah! Hurrah!” - -Towards Bandiera the gleam of gun-barrels could be seen. The little -Mayor, at the head of a band of soldiers, was coming to liberate the -guard that the wrath of the Great Enemy might not be incurred. - -Suddenly the irritated rabble broke out in an angry uproar. Loud -cries rose against the cowardly liberator of the Castellammarese. From -Lazzaretto to the city sounded the clamour of hisses and contumely. To -the delight of the people the shouting lasted until their voices grew -hoarse. After the first outburst the revolt began to turn in other -directions. The shops were all closed, the citizens gathered in the -street, rich and poor mingling together familiarly, all possessed of -the same wild desire to speak, to shout, to gesticulate, to express in -a thousand different ways the feelings which burned within them. - -Every few minutes another tribune would arrive with fresh news. Groups -dissolved to form new groups, varying according to differences of -opinion. - -The free spirit of the day affected everyone; every breath of air -seemed to intoxicate like a draught of wine, the hilarity of the -Pescarese revived, and they continued their rebellion ironically for -pure enjoyment, for spite, and for the love of novelty. The stratagems -of the Great Enemy were increased. Any agreement was broken to further -the skilful schemes which were suggested, and the weakness of the -little Mayor favoured this method of procedure. - -On the morning of All Souls’ Day at about seven o’clock, when the first -ceremonies were being performed in the churches, the tribunes started -to make a tour of the city, followed by a crowd which grew larger at -every step, and became more and more clamorous. When all the people -had gathered, Antonio Sorrentino addressed them in a stirring harangue. -Then the procession proceeded in an orderly way towards the City Hall. -The streets in the shadows were still bluish from smoke; the houses -were bathed in sunlight. - -At the sight of the City Hall an immense cry broke out. From every -mouth vituperations were hurled; every fist rose threateningly. The -shouts vibrated at intervals as though produced by an instrument, -and above the confused mass of heads the vermilion flags waved as if -agitated by a heavy popular breath. No one appeared upon the balcony -of the City Hall. The sun was gradually descending from the roof to -the meridian sand, black with figures and lines, upon which vibrated -the indicating shadow. From the Torretta of the D’Annunzio to the -bell-tower of the Abbey, flocks of doves were flying against the azure -sky. - -The shouts increased. A number of the more zealous ones took by assault -the stairs of the building. The little Mayor, pallid and timid, yielded -to the wish of the people. He left his seat in the City Hall, resigned -his office, and passed down the street between two gendarmes, followed -by the whole Board of Councillors. He then left the city and withdrew -to the hall of Spoltore. - -The doors of the City Hall were closed and for a time Anarchy ruled -the city. In order to prevent an open battle, which seemed imminent, -between the Castellammarese and the Pescarese, the soldiers stationed -themselves at the extreme left end of the bridge. Having torn down the -flags, the crowd set out for the road to Chieti, where the Prefect, who -had been summoned by a Royal Commissary, was expected. All their plans -seemed to be ferocious. However, in the soft warmth of the sunlight, -their ire was soon decreased. - -Through the wide street poured forth from the church the women of the -place, dressed in various coloured gowns, and covered with jewelry -consisting mostly of silver filigree and gold necklaces. The appearance -of these happy and joyful faces quieted and soothed the turbulent -spirits of the mob. Jests and laughter broke forth spontaneously, -and the short period of waiting was almost gay. Towards noon the -carriage of the Prefect came in sight. The people formed themselves -in a semicircle to stop its passage. Antonio Sorrentino again gave a -harangue, not without a certain flowery eloquence. The crowd, in the -pauses of the speech, asked in various ways for justice and relief from -the abuses, and that no measure should be taken which would involve -killing. - -The two large skeletons of horses, still animated, however, shook their -bells from time to time, showing the rebels their white gums as if in -a grimace of derision. A delegate of the police, looking like an old -singer of some comic opera, who still wore around his face a druid -beard, from the height of the back seat was emphasising the words of -the tribune’s speech with grave gestures of his hand. As the speaker -in his enthusiasm went on with impetuous eloquence, he became too -audacious, and the Prefect, rising from his seat, took advantage of the -moment to interrupt. He ventured several irrelevant and timid remarks, -which were drowned by the cries of the people. - -“To Pescara! To Pescara!” - -The carriage, pushed along by the press of the crowd, entered the city -and the City Hall being closed, it stopped before the Delegation. Ten -men, named by the people, together with the Prefect, formed a temporary -parliament. The crowd filled the street and every now and then an -impatient murmur arose. - -The houses, heated by the sun, radiated a delightful warmth, and an -indescribable mildness emanated from the sky and sea, from the floating -vegetation alongside the water-troughs, from the roses, from the -windows, from the white walls of the houses, from the very air of the -place itself. This place is renowned as the home of the most beautiful -women of Pescara, from generation to generation its fame for its -beauties has been perpetuated. - -The home of Don Ussorio is the abode of flourishing children and -pretty girls; the house is all covered with little loggias, which are -overflowing with carnations growing in rough vases ornamented with -bas-reliefs. - -Gradually the impatient crowd grew quiet. From one end of the street -to the other the speakers were subsiding. Domenico di Matteo, a sort -of rustic Rodomonte, was making loud jests upon the asininity and -avidity of the doctors who cause their patients to die in order to get -a larger fee from the Commune. He was telling of some marvellous cures -he had effected on himself. Once he had a terrible pain on his chest, -and was about to die. The physician had forbidden him to drink water, -and he was burning with thirst. One night, when everyone was asleep -he got up quietly, felt about for a water tank, and having found it, -stuck his head in it and drank like a pack horse until the tank was -empty. Next morning he had entirely recovered. Another time, he and -a companion, having been ill for a long time with intermittent fever, -and having taken large quantities of quinine without avail, decided to -make an experiment. Across the river from them was a vineyard filled -with grapes, hanging ripe and delicious in the sun. Going to the shore, -they undressed themselves, plunged into the water, and swam through -the current to the other shore, and after having eaten as many grapes -as they could, swam back again. The intermittent fever disappeared. -Another time he was ill with blood poisoning, and spent more than -fifteen ducats for doctors and medicine in vain. As he watched his -mother doing the washing, a happy thought struck him. One after another -he swallowed five glasses of lime-water, and was cured. - -From the balconies, from the windows, from the loggias, a number of -beautiful women leaned out, one after another. The men in the street -raised their eyes towards these fair apparitions, walking along -with heads bent backward. As the dinner hour was passed, they felt a -certain dizziness in their heads and their stomachs, and an awakening -faintness. Brief talks between street and windows took place, the -young men making gestures and little speeches to the belles, the -belles answering with motions of their hands or shakes of their heads, -or sometimes by laughing aloud. Their fresh laughter poured out on -the men below like strings of crystals, increasing their admiration. -The heat given out by the walls of the houses mingled with the heat -of the bodies of the crowd. The whitish reflection dazzled the eyes; -something enervating and stupefying seemed to descend upon the restless -mob. Suddenly upon the loggia appeared the woman Ciccarina, the belle -of the belles, the rose of the roses, the adorable object whom all -desired. With a common impulse, every look was turned towards her. She -acknowledged this homage with triumphant smiles, laughing, radiant, -like a Venetian Dogess before her people. The sunlight fell on her full -flushed face, reminding one of the pulp of a succulent fruit. Her loose -hair, so bright that it seemed to dart golden flames, encircled her -forehead, temples and neck. The fascination of a Venus emanated from -her whole person. She simply stood there, between two cages of black -birds, smiling in great unconcern, not at all troubled by the longing -and admiration shown in the eyes of all the men watching her. - -The black birds, singing a sort of rustic madrigal, fluttered their -wings towards her. Ciccarina, smiling, withdrew from the loggia. The -crowd remained in the street, dazzled by the vision, and a little dizzy -from hunger. Then one of the speakers, leaning out from the window of -the Delegation, announced in a shrill voice: - -“Citizens! The matter will be settled within three hours!” - - - - -XII - -_THE VIRGIN ANNA_ - - -I - -Luca Minella, born in the year 1789 at Ortona in one of the houses of -Porta Caldara, was a seaman. In early youth he sailed for some time on -the brigantine _Santa Liberata_, from the bay of Ortona to the ports -of Dalmatia, loaded with varieties of wood, fresh and dried fruit. -Later, because of a whim to change masters, he entered the service of -Don Rocco Panzavacante, and upon a new skiff made many voyages for the -purpose of trading in lemons, to the promontory of Roto, which is a -large and agreeable elevation on the Italian coast, wholly covered with -orchards of oranges and lemons. - -In his twenty-seventh year he kindled with love for Francesca Nobile, -and after several months they were married. Luca, a man of short and -very strong build, had a soft blond beard upon his flushed visage, -and, like a woman, wore two circles of gold in his ears. He loved -wine and tobacco; professed an ardent devotion for the holy Apostle -Saint Thomas; and, in that he was of a superstitious nature and given -to trances, he recounted singular and marvellous adventures of those -foreign countries and told stories of the Dalmatian people and the -islands of the Adriatic as if they were tribes and countries in the -proximity of the poles. Francesca, a woman whose youth was on the wane, -had the florid complexion and mobile features of the Ortonesian girl. -She loved the church, the religious functions, the sacred pomp, the -music of the organ; she lived in great simplicity; and, since she was -somewhat stunted in intelligence, believed the most incredible things -and praised her Lord in His every deed. - -Of this union Anna was born in the month of June of the year -1817. Inasmuch as the confinement was severe, and they feared some -misfortune, the sacrament of baptism was administered before the birth -of the child. After much travail the birth took place. The little -creature drank nourishment from its mother and grew in health and -happiness. Toward evening Francesca went down to the seacoast, with the -nursing baby in her arms, whenever she expected the skiff to return -loaded from Roto, and Luca on coming ashore wore a shirt all scented -with the southern fruits. When mounting together to their home above, -they always stopped a moment at the church and knelt in prayer. In the -chapels the votive lamps were burning, and in the background, behind -the seven bronzes, the statue of the Apostle sparkled like a treasure. -Their prayers asked for celestial benediction to fall upon their -daughter. On going out, when the mother bathed Anna’s forehead in holy -water, her infantile screams echoed the length of the naves. - -The infancy of Anna passed smoothly, without any noteworthy event. In -May of 1823 she was dressed as a cherub, with a crown of roses and -a white veil; and, in the midst of an angelical company, confusedly -followed a procession, holding in her hand a thin taper. In the -church her mother wished to lift her in her arms and have her kiss her -protecting Saint. But, as other mothers lifting other cherubs pushed -through the crowd, the flame of one of the tapers caught Anna’s veil -and suddenly a flame enveloped her tender body. A contagion of fear -spread among the people and each one strove to be the first to escape. -Francesca, for all that her hands were almost rendered useless by -terror, succeeded in tearing off the burning garments, strained the -nude and unconscious child to her heart, threw herself down behind the -fugitives, and invoked her Lord with loud cries. - -From the burns Anna was ill and in peril for a long time. She lay upon -her bed with thin, bloodless face and without speech as if she had -become mute, while her eyes, open and fixed, held an expression of -forgetful stupor rather than of pain. In the autumn she recovered and -went to take her vow. - -When the weather was mild the family descended to the boat for their -evening meal. Under the awning Francesca lit the fire and placed the -fish upon it; the hospitable odour of the food spread the length of -the harbour, blending with the perfume from the foliage of the Villa -Onofria. The sea lay so tranquilly that one scarcely heard between the -rocks the rustling of the water, and the air was so limpid that one saw -the steeple of San Vito emerge in the distance amid the surrounding -houses. Luca and the other men fell to singing, while Anna tried to -help her mother. After the meal, as the moon mounted in the sky, the -sailors prepared the skiff for weighing anchor. Meanwhile Luca, under -the stimulation of the wine and food, seized with his habitual avidity -for miraculous stories, commenced to tell of distant shores. “There -was, further up than Roto, a mountain all inhabited by monkeys and -men from India; it was very high, with plants that produced precious -stones.” His wife and daughter listened in silent astonishment. Then, -the sails unfolded along the masts, sails all covered with black -figures and Catholic symbols, like the ancient flags of a country. Thus -Luca departed. - -In February of 1826 Francesca gave birth to a dead child. In the spring -of 1830 Luca wished to take Anna to the promontory. Anna was then on -the threshold of girlhood. The voyage was a happy one. On the high -seas they encountered a merchant vessel, a large ship borne along by -means of its enormous white sails. The dolphins swam in the foam; the -water moved gently around, scintillating, and seeming to carry upon its -surface a covering of peacock feathers. Anna gazed from the ship into -the distance with eyes never satiated. Then a kind of blue cloud rose -from the line of horizon; it was the fruit covered mountain. - -The coast of Puglia came into view little by little under the sunlight. -The perfume of the lemons permeated the morning air. When Anna -descended to the shore, she was overcome by a sense of gladness as she -examined curiously the plantations and the men native to the place. Her -father took her to the house of a woman no longer young, who spoke with -a slight stutter. - -They remained with her two days. Once Anna saw her father kiss this -woman upon the mouth, but she did not understand. On their return -the skiff was loaded with oranges, and the sea was still gentle. Anna -preserved the remembrance of that voyage as if it were a dream; and, -since she was by nature taciturn, she did not recount many stories of -it to her comrades, who pursued her with questions. - - -II - -In the following May, to the festival of the Apostle, came the -Archbishop of Orsogna. The church was entirely decorated with red -draperies and leaves of gold, while before the bronze rails burned -eleven silver lamps fashioned by silversmiths for religious purposes, -and every evening the orchestra sang a solemn oratorio with a splendid -chorus of childish voices. On Saturday the statue of the Apostle was to -be shown. Devotees made pilgrimages from all the maritime and inland -countries; they came up the coast, singing and bearing in their hands -votive offerings, with the sea in full sight. - -Anna on Friday had her first communion. The Archbishop was an old man, -reverent and gentle, and when he lifted his hand to bless her, the -jewel in his ring shone like a divine eye. Anna, when she felt on her -tongue the wafer of the Eucharist, became blinded with a sudden wave -of joy that seemed to moisten her hair, like a soft and tepid scented -bath. Behind her a murmur ran through the multitude; near by other -virgins were taking the Sacrament and bowing their faces upon the rail -in great contrition. - -That evening Francesca wished to sleep, as was the custom among the -worshippers, upon the pavement of the church, while awaiting the early -morning revelation of the saint. She was seven months with child and -the weight of it wearied her greatly. On the pavement, the pilgrims -lay crowded together, while heat emanating from their bodies filled -the air. Diverse confused cries issued at times from some of those -unconscious with sleep; the flames of the burning oil in the cups -trembled and were reflected as they hung suspended between the arches, -while through the openings of the large doors the stars glittered in -the early spring night. - -Francesca lay awake for two hours in pain, since the exhalations from -the sleepers gave her nausea. But, having determined to resist and -to endure for the welfare of her soul, she was overcome at last by -weariness and bent her head in sleep. At dawn she awoke. Expectation -increased in the souls of the watchers and more people arrived. In each -one burned the desire to be the first to see the Apostle. At length the -first grating was opened, the noise of its hinges resounding clearly -through the silence, and echoing in all hearts. The second grating -was opened, then the third, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, and -finally the last. It seemed now as if a cyclone had struck the crowd. -The mass of men hurled themselves toward the tabernacle, sharp cries -rang in the air; ten, fifteen persons were wounded and suffocated -while a tumultuous prayer arose. The dead were dragged to the open -air. The body of Francesca, all bruised and livid, was carried to her -family. Many curious ones crowded around it, and her relatives lamented -piteously. Anna, when she saw her mother stretched on the bed, purple -in the face and stained with blood, fell to the earth unconscious. -Afterwards, for many months she was tormented by epilepsy. - - -III - -In the summer of 1835 Luca set sail for a Grecian port upon the skiff -“Trinita” belonging to Don Giovanni Camaccione. Moreover, as he held -a secret thought in his mind, before leaving, he sold his furniture -and asked some relatives to keep Anna in their house until he should -return. Some time after that the skiff returned loaded with dried figs -and eggs from Corinth, after having touched at the coast of Roto. Luca -was not among the crew, and it became known later that he had remained -in the “country of the oranges” with a lady-love. - -Anna remembered their former stuttering hostess. A deep sadness settled -down upon her life at this recollection. The house of her relatives -was on the eastern road, in the vicinity of Molo. The sailors came -there to drink wine in a low room, where almost all day their songs -resounded amid the smoke of their pipes. Anna passed in and out among -the drinkers, carrying full pitchers, and her first instinct of modesty -awoke from that continuous contact, that continuous association with -bestial men. Every moment she had to endure their impudent jokes, cruel -laughter and suggestive gestures, the wickedness of men worn out by the -fatigues of a sailor’s life. She dared not complain, because she ate -her bread in the house of another. But that continuous ordeal weakened -her and a serious mental derangement arose little by little from her -weakened condition. - -Naturally affectionate, she had a great love for animals. An aged ass -was housed under a shed of straw and clay behind the house. The gentle -beast daily bore burdens of wine from Saint Apollinare to the tavern; -and for all that his teeth had commenced to grow yellow, and his hoofs -to decay, for all that his skin was already parched and had scarcely a -hair upon it, still, at the sight of a flowering thistle he put up his -ears and began to bray vivaciously in his former youthful way. - -Anna filled his manger with fodder and his trough with water. When -the heat was severe, she came to rest in the shadow of the shed. The -ass ground up wisps of straw laboriously between his jaws and she with -a leafy branch performed a work of kindness by keeping his back free -from the molestation of insects. From time to time the ass turned its -long-eared head with a curling of the flaccid lips which revealed the -gums as if performing a reddish animal smile of gratitude, and with -an oblique movement of his eye in its orbit showed the yellowish ball -veined with purple like a gall bladder. The insects circled with a -continuous buzzing around the dung-heap; neither from earth nor sea -came a sound, and an infinite sense of peace filled the soul of the -woman. - -In April of 1842 Pantaleo, the man who guided the beast of burden on -his daily journeys, died from a knife-wound. From that time on the duty -fell to Anna. Either she left at dawn and returned by noon, or she left -at noon and returned by night. The road wound over a sunny hill planted -with olives, descended through a moist country used for pasture, and -on rising again through vineyards, arrived at the factories of Saint -Apollinare. The ass walked wearily in front with lowered ears, a green -fringe all worn and discoloured beat against his ribs and haunches and -in the pack-saddle glittered several fragments of brass plate. - -When the animal stopped to regain his breath, Anna gave him a little -caressing blow on the neck and urged him with her voice, because she -had pity for his infirmities. Every so often she tore from the hedges -a handful of leaves and offered them to him for refreshment; she was -moved on feeling in her palm the soft movement of his lips as they -nibbled her offering. The hedges were in bloom and the blossoms of the -white thorn had a flavour of bitter almonds. - -On the confines of the olive grove was a large cistern, and near this -cistern a long, stone canal where the animals came to drink. Every -day Anna paused at this spot and here she and the ass quenched their -thirst before continuing the journey. Once she encountered the keeper -of a herd of cattle, who was a native of Tollo and whose expression was -a little cross and who had a hare-lip. The man returned her greeting -and they began to converse on the pasturage and the water, then on -sanctuaries and miracles. Anna listened graciously and with frequent -smiles. She was lean and pale with very clear eyes and uncommonly large -mouth, and her auburn hair was smoothed back without a part. On her -neck one saw the red scars of her burns and her veins stood out and -palpitated incessantly. - -From that time on their conversations were repeated at intervals. -Through the grass the cattle dispersed, either lying down and pondering -or standing and eating. Their peaceful moving forms added to the -tranquillity of the pastoral solitude. Anna, seated on the edge of -the cistern, talked simply and the man with his split lip seemed -overcome with love. One day with a sudden, spontaneous blossoming of -her memory, she told of her sailing to the mountain of Roto; and, since -the remoteness of the time had blurred her memory, she told marvellous -things with a strong appearance of truth. The man, astonished, -listened without winking an eye. When Anna stopped speaking, to both -the surrounding silence and solitude seemed deeper and both remained -in thought. Then the cattle, driven by habit, came to the trough -and between their legs dangled the bags of milk supplied anew from -the pasture. As they thrust their noses into the stream, the water -diminished with their slow, regular gulps. - - -IV - -During the last days of June the ass fell sick. It took neither food -nor drink for almost a week. The daily journeys were interrupted. One -morning Anna, descending to the shed, found the beast all cramped upon -the straw in a pitiable condition. A kind of hoarse, tenacious cough -shook from time to time his huge frame thinly covered with skin, while -above the eyes two deep cavities had formed like two hollow orbits, and -the eyes themselves resembled two great bladders filled with whey. When -the ass heard Anna’s voice he tried to get up; his body reeled upon -his legs, his neck sank beneath the sharp shoulder-blades, and his ears -dangled, with involuntary and ungainly motions, like those of a big toy -broken at the hinges. A mucous liquid dropped from his nose, sometimes -flowing in little sluggish rivulets down to his knees. The raw spots in -the skin turned the colour of azure, and the sores here and there bled. - -Anna, at this sight, was inwardly torn by a pitying anguish; and, since -by nature and by habit she never experienced any physical repugnance -on coming in contact with things commonly regarded as repellant, she -drew near to touch the animal. With one hand she held up his lower jaw -and with the other a shoulder and thus sought to help him walk, hoping -that exercise might do him good. At first the animal hesitated, shaken -by new outbreaks of coughing, but at length he began to walk down -the gentle incline that led to the shore. The water before them shone -white in the birth of the morning and the _Calafatti_ near La Penna -were smearing a keel with pitch. As Anna sustained her burden with her -hands, and held the halter rope, the ass through a misstep of a hind -leg fell suddenly. The great structure of bones gave a rattle within -as if ruptured, the skin over the stomach and flanks resounded dully -and palpitated. The legs made a motion as if to run, while blood issued -from the gums and spread among the teeth. - -The woman began to call and run toward the house. But the _Calafatti_, -having arrived, laughed and joked at the reclining ass. One of them -struck the dying beast in the stomach with his foot. Another grabbed -his ears and raised his head, which sank heavily again to earth. The -eyes at length closed, a chill ran over the white skin of the stomach, -parting the tufts of hair as a wind would do, while one of his hind -legs beat two or three times in the air. Then all was still, except -that in the shoulder, where there was an ulcer, a slight quivering -took place, like that caused by some insect a moment before in the -living flesh. When Anna returned to the spot she found the _Calafatti_ -dragging the carcass by the tail, and singing a Requiem with imitation -brays. - -Thus Anna was left alone. Still for a long time she lived on in the -house of her relatives and gradually faded, while she fulfilled her -humble duties and endured with much Christian patience her vexations. -In 1845 her epilepsy returned to her with violence, but disappeared -again after some months. Her religious faith became at the same time -more deep and living. She went up to the church every morning and -every evening, and knelt habitually in an obscure corner protected by -a great pillar of marble where was pictured in rough bas-relief the -flight of the Holy Family into Egypt. Did she not at first choose that -corner because she was attracted by the gentle ass bearing the child -Jesus and His mother from the land of idolatry? A great peace as of -love descended upon her soul when she bent her knees in the shadow, -and prayers rose unpolluted from her breast as from a natural spring, -because she prayed only through a blind passion to adore, and not -through any hope to obtain the grace of happiness in her own life. -She prayed with her head lowered on a chair, and as Christians, in -coming and going, touched the holy water with their fingers and crossed -themselves, she from time to time shivered on feeling on her hair some -welcome drops of the holy water. - - -V - -When in the year 1851 Anna came for the first time to the country of -Pescara, the feast of Rosario was approaching, which is celebrated on -the first Sunday of October. - -The woman came from Ortona on foot, for the purpose of fulfilling a -vow; and bearing with her, hidden in a handkerchief of silk, a little -heart of silver, she walked religiously along the seacoast; since at -that time the province road was not yet constructed, and a wood of -pines almost covered the virgin soil. The day was calm, save that the -waves of the sea were ever increasing and at the farthest point of the -horizon the clouds continued to rise in the shape of large funnels. -Anna walked on entirely absorbed in holy thoughts. Towards evening, as -she was approaching Salini, suddenly the rain began to fall, at first -gently, but later in a great downpour; so much so that, not finding any -shelter, she was wet through and through. Further on, the gorge of the -Alento was flooded, and she had to remove her shoes and ford the river. -In the vicinity of Vallelonga the rain ceased, and the forest of pines -serenely revived gave forth an odour almost of incense. Anna, rendering -thanks in her soul to her Lord, followed the shore path with steps more -rapid, since she felt the unwholesome dampness penetrate her bones, and -her teeth began to chatter from a chill. - -At Pescara she was suddenly stricken with a swamp-fever, and cared for -through pity in the house of Donna Cristina Basile. From her bed on -hearing the sacred chants, and seeing the tops of the standards wave to -the height of her window, she set herself to praying and invoking her -recovery. When the Virgin passed she could see only the jewelled crown, -and she endeavoured to kneel upon the pillows in order to worship. - -After three weeks she recovered and Donna Cristina having asked her to -remain, she stayed on in the capacity of a servant. She had a little -room looking out upon a court. The walls were whitened with plaster, -an old screen covered with curious figures blocked a corner, and among -the beams of the roof many spiders stretched in peace their intricate -webs. Under the window projected a short roof, and further down opened -the court full of tame birds. On the roof grew from a pile of earth -enclosed with five tiles a tobacco plant. The sun lingered there from -early in the morning until the evening. Every summer the plant bloomed. -Anna, in this new life, in this new house, little by little felt -herself revive and her natural inclination for order reasserted itself. - -She attended tranquilly and without speaking to all her duties. -Meanwhile her belief in things supernatural increased. Two or three -legends had in the distant past established themselves with regard to -certain spots in the Basile house, and from generation to generation -they had been handed down. In the yellow room on the second floor (now -unoccupied) lived the soul of Donna Isabella. In a dark room with a -winding staircase descending to a door that had not been opened for -a long time, lived the soul of Don Samuele. Those two names exercised -a singular power over the present occupants, and diffused through the -entire ancient building a kind of conventional solemnity. Further, as -the inside court was surrounded by many roofs, the cats on the loggia -gathered in counsel and mewed with a mysterious sweetness, while -begging Anna for bits from her meals. - -In March of the year 1853 the husband of Donna Cristina after -many weeks of convulsions died of a urinary disease. He was a God -fearing man, domestic and charitable, at the head of a congregation -of landowners, read theological works, and knew how to play on the -piano several simple airs of the ancient Neapolitan masters. When the -viaticum arrived, magnificent with its quantity of servers and richness -of equipage, Anna knelt on the doorsill and prayed in a loud voice. The -room filled with the vapour of incense, in the midst of which glittered -the _cyborium_ and the censers flickering like burning lamps. One -heard weeping, and then arose the voices of the priests recommending -the soul to the Most High. Anna, carried away by the solemnity of that -sacrament, lost all horror of death, and from that time on the death of -a Christian seemed to her a journey sweet and joyful. - -Donna Cristina kept the windows of her house closed for an entire -month. She mourned for her husband at the hours of dinner and supper, -gave in his name alms to beggars; and many times a day, with the -tail of a fox swished the dust from his piano, as if from a relic, -while emitting sighs. She was a woman of forty years, tending toward -fleshiness, although still youthful in her form which sterility had -preserved. And since she inherited from the deceased a considerable -sum, the five oldest bachelors of the country began to lay ambushes -for her and to allure her with flattering wiles to new nuptials. The -competitors were: Don Ignazio Cespa, an effeminate person, of ambiguous -sex, with the face of an old gossip marked from the small-pox, and -a head of hair filled with cosmetics, with fingers heavy from rings -and ears pierced with two minute circles of gold; Don Paolo Nervegna, -doctor of law, a man talkative and keen, who had his lips always -curled as if he were chewing on some bitter herb, and a kind of red, -unconcealable wart on his forehead; Don Fileno d’Amelio, a new leader -of the congregation, slightly bald, with a forehead sloping backward, -and deep-set lamb-like eyes; Don Pompeo Pepe, a jocular man and a lover -of wine, women and leisure, luxuriantly corpulent, especially in his -face and sonorous in laughter and speech; Don Fiore Ussorio, a man -of pugnacious disposition, a great reader of political works, and a -triumphant quoter of historical examples in every dispute, pallid with -an unearthly pallor, with a thin circle of beard around his cheeks and -a mouth peculiarly leaning toward an oblique line. To these were added, -as a help to Donna Cristina’s power of resistance, the Abbot Egidio -Cennamele who, wishing to draw the heritage to the benefit of the -church, with well covered cleverness antagonised the wooers by means of -flattery. This great contest, which some day should be narrated in more -detail, lasted a long time and held great variety of incident. - -The principal theatre of the first act was the dining-room—a -rectangular room where on the French paper of the walls were -graphically represented the facts of Ulysses’ sail to the island -of Calypso. Almost every evening the combatants assembled around -the besieged’s window and played the game of _briscola_ and of love -alternately. - - -VI - -Anna was a constant witness. She introduced the visitors, spread the -cloth upon the table, and, in the midst of the siege, brought in -glasses full of a greenish cordial mixed by the nuns with special -drugs. Once at the top of the stairs she heard Don Fiore Ussorio, -in the heat of a dispute, insult the Abbot Cennamele who spoke -submissively; and since this irreverence seemed monstrous to her, from -that time on she judged Don Fiore to be a diabolical man and at his -appearance rapidly made the sign of the cross and murmured a Pater. - -One day in the spring of 1856 while on the bank of the Pescara, she -saw a fleet of boats pass the mouth of the river and sail slowly up -the current of the stream. The sun was serene, the two shores were -mirrored in the depths facing one another, some green branches and -several baskets of reeds floated in the midst of the current toward the -sea like placid symbols, and the barks, with the mitre of Saint Thomas -painted for an ensign in a corner of their sails, proceeded thus on the -beautiful river sanctified by the legend of Saint Cetteo Liberatore. -Recollections of her birthplace awoke in the soul of the woman with -a sudden start, at that sight; and on thinking of her father, she was -overcome with a deep tenderness. - -The barks were Ortonesian skiffs and came from the promontory of Roto -with a cargo of lemons. Anna, when the anchors were cast, approached -the sailors and gazed at them in silence with a curiosity yearning -and fearful. One of them, struck by her expression, recognised her and -questioned her familiarly: “Whom was she seeking? What did she want?” -Then Anna drew the man aside and asked him if by chance he had seen -in the “country of the oranges” Luca Minella, her father. “He had not -seen him? He no longer lived with that woman?” The man answered that -Luca had been dead for some time. “He was old, and could not live very -long?” Then Anna restrained her tears and wished to know many things. -“Luca had married that woman and they had had two children. The elder -of the two sailed upon a skiff and came sometimes to Pescara for -trade.” Anna started. - -A perplexing confusion, a kind of troubled dismay seized her mind. -She could not regain her equilibrium in the face of these complicated -facts. She had two brothers then? She must love them? She must -endeavour to see them? Now what ought she to do? Thus, wavering, she -returned home. Afterwards, for many evenings, when the barks entered -the river, she descended the long dock to watch the sailors. One -skiff brought from Dalmatia a load of asses and ponies. The beasts on -reaching land stamped and the air rang with their brays and neighs. -Anna, in passing, stroked the large heads of the asses. - - -VII - -At about that time she received as a gift from a squire a turtle. This -new pet, heavy and taciturn, was her delight and care in her leisure -hours. It walked from one end of the room to the other, lifting with -difficulty from the ground the great weight of its body. It had claws, -like olive-coloured stumps, and was young; the sections of its dorsal -shield, spotted yellow and black, glittered often in the sunlight with -a shade of amber. The head covered with scales, tapering to the nose -and yellowish, projected and nodded with timorous benignity, and it -seemed sometimes like the head of an old worn-out serpent that had -issued from the husk of its own skin. Anna was much delighted with -the traits of the animal; its silence, its frugality, its modesty, its -love of home. She fed it with leaves, roots and worms, while watching -ecstatically the movement of its little horned and ragged jaws. She -experienced almost a feeling of maternity as she gently called the -animal and chose for it the tenderest and sweetest herbs. Then the -turtle became the presager of an idyl. The squire, on coming many times -a day to the house, lingered on the loggia to chat with Anna. Since -he was a man of humble spirit, devout, prudent, and just, he enjoyed -seeing the reflections of his pious virtues in the soul of the woman. -Hence, from habit there arose between the two, little by little, a -friendly familiarity. Anna already had several white hairs on her -temples, and a placid sincerity suffused her face. Zacchiele exceeded -her in age by several years; he had a large head with bulging forehead -and two gentle, round, rabbit-like eyes. During their soliloquies -they sat for the most part on the loggia. Above them, between the -roofs, the sky seemed a transparent cupola, while at intervals the -pet doves in their soarings traversed this patch of the heavens. Their -conversations turned upon the harvests, the fruitfulness of the earth -and simple rules for cultivation, and they were both full of experience -and self-denial. Since Zacchiele loved at times, because of a natural -diffident vanity, to make show of his knowledge before the ignorant -and credulous woman, she conceived for him an unlimited esteem and -admiration. She learned from him that the earth was divided into five -races of men: the white, the yellow, the red, the black, and the brown. -She learned that in form the earth was round, that Romulus and Remus -were nourished by a wolf, and that in autumn the swallows flew over -the sea to Egypt where the Pharaohs reigned in ancient times. But did -not men all have one colour, in the image and semblance of God? How -could we walk upon a ball? Who were the Pharaohs? She did not succeed -in understanding and thus remained completely confused. However, after -that she regarded the swallows with reverence and judged them to be -birds gifted with human foresight. - -One day Zacchiele showed her a copy of the Old Testament, illustrated -with drawings. Anna examined it slowly, listening to his explanations. -She saw Adam and Eve among the hares and fawns, Noah half nude kneeling -before an altar, the three angels of Abraham, Moses rescued from the -water; she saw with joy finally a Pharaoh, in the presence of the rod -of Moses, changed into a serpent; the queen of Sheba, the feast of the -Tabernacle, and the martyrdom of the Maccabees. The affair of Balaam’s -ass filled her with wonder and tenderness. The story of the cup of -Joseph in the sack of Benjamin caused her to burst into tears. Now -she imagined the Israelites walking through a desert all covered with -scales, under a dew that was called manna and which was white like snow -and sweeter than bread. After the Sacred History, seized with a strange -ambition, Zacchiele began to read to her of the enterprises of the -kings of France with the Emperor Constantine up to the time of Orlando, -Count of Anglante. A great tumult then upset the woman’s mind, the -battles of the Philistines and Syrians she confused with the battles -of the Saracens, Holofernes with Rizieri, King Saul with King Mambrino, -Eleazar with Balante, Naomi with Galeana. - -Worn out she no longer followed the thread of the narrative, but -shivered only at intervals when she heard fall from the lips of -Zacchiele the sound of some beloved name. And she had a strong liking -for Dusolina and the Duke of Bovetto, who seized all of England while -becoming enamoured of the daughter of the Frisian King. - -The first day of September came. In the air, tempered with recent rain, -was a placid autumnal clarity. Anna’s room became the spot for their -readings. One day Zacchiele, seated, read “how Galeana, daughter of -the King Galafro, became enamoured of Mainetto and wished to make him a -garland of green.” - -Anna, because the fable seemed simple and rustic, and because the voice -of the reader seemed to sweeten with new inflections, listened with -evident eagerness. The turtle gently dragged itself over several leaves -of lettuce, the sun illumined a great spider’s web upon the window, and -one saw the last red flowers of the tobacco plant through the subtle -threads of gold. - -When the chapter was finished Zacchiele laid aside the book, and, -gazing at the woman, smiled with one of those simple smiles of his, -which had a way of wrinkling his temples and the corners of his mouth. -Then he began to speak to her vaguely, with the timidity of one who -does not quite know how to arrive at the desired point. Finally he was -filled with ardour. Had she never thought of matrimony? Anna did not -reply to this question. Both remained silent and both felt in their -souls a confused sweetness, almost an astonished reawakening of buried -youth and a reclaiming of love. They were excited by it as if the fumes -of a very strong wine had mounted to their weakened brains. - - -VIII - -But a tacit promise of marriage was given many days later, in October, -at the first birth of the oil in the olive, and at the last migration -of the swallows. With Donna Cristina’s permission, one Monday Zacchiele -took Anna to the factory on the hills where his mill was located. They -left by the Portasale, on foot, took the Salaria road, turning their -backs on the river. From the day of the fable of Galeana and Mainetto, -they had experienced, the one toward the other, a kind of trepidation, -a mixture of bashful timidity and respect. They had lost that beautiful -familiarity of previous times; now they spoke seldom together and -always with a hesitating reserve, avoiding each other’s face, with -uncertain smiles, becoming confused at times through a sudden blush, -dallying thus with timid, childish acts of innocence. - -They walked in silence, at first, each following the dry and narrow -path which the footsteps of travellers had marked on both sides of the -road, and between them ran the road, muddy and indented with deep ruts -from the wheels of vehicles. The unrestrained joy of the vintage filled -the country; the songs at the crushing of the wine resounded over the -plain. Zacchiele kept slightly in the rear, breaking the silence from -time to time with some remark on the weather, the vines, the harvest of -olives, while Anna examined curiously all of the bushes flaming with -berries, the tilled fields, the water in the ditches; and, little by -little, a vague joy was born in her soul, like one who, after a long -period of fasting, is rejoiced by pleasant sensations experienced long -ago. As the road took a turn up the declivity through the rich olive -orchards of Cardirusso, clearly arose to her mind the remembrance of -Saint Apollinare and the ass and the keeper of the herds. She felt her -blood suddenly surge toward her heart. That episode, buried with her -youth, now revived in her memory with a marvellous clearness; a picture -of the place formed itself before her mind’s eye and she saw again the -man with the hare-lip and again heard his voice, while experiencing a -new confusion without knowing why. - -As they approached the factory the wind among the trees caused the -mature olives to fall and a patch of serene sea was revealed from the -heights. Zacchiele had moved to the side of the woman and was looking -at her from time to time with a pious supplicating tenderness. “What -was she thinking of now?” Anna turned with an air almost of fright, as -if she had been caught in a sin. “She was thinking of nothing.” They -arrived at the mill where the farmers were crushing the first harvest -of olives fallen prematurely from the trees. The room for the crushing -was low and dimly lighted; from the ceiling sparkling with saltpetre -hung lanterns of brass which smoked; a cart-horse, blindfolded, turned -with even steps an immense mill-stone; and the farmers, clothed in a -kind of long tunic similar to a sack, with legs and arms bare, muscular -and oily, were pouring the liquid into jugs, jars and vats. - -Anna watched the work attentively, and as Zacchiele gave orders to the -workers and wound in and out among the machines, observing the quality -of the olives with great decision of judgment, she felt her admiration -for him increase. Later, as Zacchiele standing before her took up a -great brimful pitcher and on pouring the oil, so pure and luminous, -into a vat, spoke of God’s abundance, she made the sign of the cross, -quite overwhelmed with veneration for the richness of the soil. - -There came at length to the door two women of the factory, and -each held at her breast a nursing child and dragged at her skirts -a luxuriant group of children. They fell to conversing placidly, -and, while Anna tried to caress the children, each talked of her own -fertility, and with an honest frankness of speech told of her various -deliverances. The first had had seven children; the second eleven. It -was the will of Jesus Christ, for working people were needed. Then -the conversation turned upon familiar matters. Albarosa, one of the -mothers, asked Anna many questions. Had she never had any children? -Anna, in answering that she was not married, experienced for the first -time a kind of humiliation and grief, before that chaste and powerful -maternity. Then, changing the subject of their discourse, she rested -her hand on the nearest child. The others looked on with wide-open -eyes that seemed to have acquired a limpid, vegetable colour from -the continuous sight of green things. The odour of the crushed olives -floated in the air, penetrating the throat and exciting the palate. The -groups of workers appeared and disappeared under the red light of the -lamps. - -Zacchiele, who up to that moment had been watching carefully the -measuring of the oil, approached the women. Albarosa welcomed him with -a merry expression. “How long were they to wait for Don Zacchiele to -take a wife?” Zacchiele smiled, slightly confused by this question, -and gave a stealthy glance at Anna who was still caressing the -rustic child and feigning not to have heard. Albarosa, through a -kindly pleasantry, characteristic of the peasant, embracing Anna and -Zacchiele significantly with a wink of her bovine eyes, pursued her -comment. They were a couple blessed by God. Why were they delaying? The -farmers, having suspended their work to attend to their meal, made a -circle around them. The couple, even more confused by these witnesses, -remained silent in an attitude bordering between tremulous smiles and -shame-faced modesty. One of the youths among the onlookers, inspired by -the affectionate compunctions in the face of Don Zacchiele, nudged his -companions with his elbows. The hungry horse neighed. - -The meal was prepared. A strenuous activity invaded the large rustic -family. In the yard, in the open air, among the peaceful olives and -within sight of the sea beneath, the men sat at their meal. The plates -of vegetables, seasoned with fresh oil, smoked; the wine scintillated -in the simple vases of liturgical shape, while the frugal food -disappeared rapidly into the stomachs of the workers. - -Anna now felt herself filled by a tumult of joy, and she seemed -suddenly almost united by a kind of friendly domesticity with the two -women. They took her into their houses where the rooms were large and -light, although very old. On the walls sacred images alternated with -pasqual palms; joints of pork hung from the rafters; the posts, ample -and very high, rose from the pavement with cradles beside them; from -all emanated the serenity of family concord. Anna, beholding these -arrangements, smiled timidly at some inward sweetness, and at a certain -point was seized by a strange emotion, almost as if all of her latent -virtues of the domestic mother and her instincts to succour had escaped -and suddenly risen up. - -When the women descended again to the yard, the men still remained -around the table and Zacchiele was talking to them. Albarosa took a -small loaf of corn-bread, divided it in the middle, spread it with oil -and salt, and offered it to Anna. The fresh oil, just pressed from the -fruit, diffused in the mouth a savoury, sharp aroma, and Anna, allured, -ate all of the bread. She even drank the wine. Then as the evening -was falling, she and Zacchiele began the descent of the hill on their -return. Behind them the farmers were singing. Many other songs arose -from the fields and pervaded the evening air with the soft fullness -of a Gregorian chant. The wind blew moistly through the olive trees, a -dying splendour between rose and violet suffused the sky. Anna walked -in front with swift steps, grazing the tree-trunks. Zacchiele called -the woman by name; she turned to him humbly and palpitatingly. “What -did he wish?” Zacchiele said no more; he took two steps and arrived at -her side. Thus they continued their walk, in silence, until the Salaria -road no longer divided them. As in going, each had taken the marginal -road, on the right and left. At length they re-entered the Portasale. - - -IX - -Through a native irresolution Anna continually deferred her matrimony. -Religious doubts tormented her. She had heard it said that only virgins -would be admitted to the circle around the mother of God in Paradise. -What then? Must she renounce that celestial sweetness for an earthly -blessing? An ardour for devotion even more compelling seized her. In -all of her unoccupied hours she went to the church of the Rosario; -knelt before the great confessional of oak and remained motionless in -the attitude of prayer. The church was simple and poor; the pavement -was covered with mortuary stones and a single shabby metal lamp burned -before the altar. The woman mourned inwardly for the pomp of her -basilica, the solemnity of the ceremonies, the eleven lamps of silver, -the three altars of precious marbles. - -But in Holy Week of the year 1857 a great event happened. Between the -Confraternity commanded by Don Fileno d’Amelio and the Abbot Cennamele, -who was aided by the parochial satellites, broke out a war; and the -cause of it was a dispute about the procession of the dead Jesus. Don -Fileno wished this ostentation, furnished by the congregation, to issue -from the parochial church. The war attracted and enveloped all of the -citizens as well as the militia of the King of Naples, residing in the -fortress. Popular tumult arose, the roads were occupied by assemblies -of fanatical people, armed platoons went around to suppress disorders, -the Archbishop of Chieti was besieged by innumerable messages from -both parties; much money for corruption was spent everywhere and a -murmur of mysterious plots spread throughout the city. The house of -Donna Cristina Basile was the hearth of all the dissensions. Don Fiore -Ussorio shone for his wonderful stratagems and his boldness in these -days of struggle. Don Paolo Nervegna had a great effusion of bile. -Don Ignazio Cespa exercised, to no purpose, all of his conciliative -blandishments and mellifluous smiles. The victory was fought for with -an implacable violence up to the ritualistic hour for the funeral -ostentation. The people fermented with expectation; the captain of -the militia, a partisan of the abbey, threatened punishment to the -instigators of the Confraternity. Revolt was on the point of breaking -forth. When, lo, there arrived at the square a mounted soldier, bearer -of an episcopal message, that gave the victory to the congregation. - -The ostentation then passed with rare magnificence through the streets -scattered with flowers. A chorus of fifty child voices sang the hymn of -the Passion and ten censers filled the entire city with the smell of -incense. The canopies, the standards, the tapers, which made up this -new display, filled the bystanders with wonder. The Abbot, although -discomfited, did not intervene, and in his place Don Pasquale Carabba, -the Great Coadjutor, clothed in ample vestments, followed with much -solemnity the bier of Jesus. - -Anna, during the contest, had made offerings for the victory of the -Abbot. But the sumptuousness of this ceremony blinded her; a kind of -rapture overcame her at the spectacle, and she felt gratitude even -toward Don Fiore Ussorio, who passed bearing in his hand an immense -taper. Then as the last band of celebrators arrived before her, she -mingled with the fanatical crowd of men, women and children and thus -moved along as if scarcely touching the earth, while always holding her -eyes fixed on the surmounting wreath of the Mater Dolorosa. On high, -from one balcony to another, were stretched, consecutively, illustrious -flags; from the houses of the stewards hung rude figures of lambs -fashioned from corn, while at intervals, where three or four streets -met, lighted brasiers spread fumes of aromatics. - -The procession did not pass under the windows of the Abbot. From time -to time a kind of irregular fluctuation ran the length of the line, -as if the band of standard-bearers had encountered an obstacle. The -cause of it was a struggle between the bearer of the Crucifix of the -Confraternity and the lieutenant of the militia, both having received -the command to follow a different route. Since the lieutenant could -not use violence without committing sacrilege, the Crucifix conquered. -The Congregation exulted, the Commanding General burned with wrath, -and the people were filled with curiosity. When the ostentation, in -the vicinity of the Arsenale, turned again to enter the church of -Saint John, Anna took an oblique path and in a few steps reached the -main door. She kneeled. First there arrived before her a man bearing -the enormous cross, while the standard-bearers followed him, balancing -very tall banners on their foreheads or chins, and gesticulating with -a clever play of muscles. Then, almost in the centre of a cloud of -incense, came the other bands, the angelic choruses, men in cassocks, -the virgins, the gentlemen, the clerics, the militias. The sight was -grand. A kind of mystic terror seized the soul of the woman. - -There advanced in the vestibule, according to custom, an acolyte -carrying a large silver plate for receiving tapers. Anna watched. Then -it was that the Commander, crunching between his teeth bitter words for -the Confraternity, threw his taper violently upon the plate and turned -his back with a threatening shrug. All remained dumbfounded. And in the -sudden silence one heard the clash of the sword of the officer as he -left the church. Don Fiore Ussorio only had the temerity to smile. - - -X - -For a long time these deeds aroused the vocal activity of the citizens -and were a cause for quarrels. As Anna had been a witness of the last -scene, several came to her to get the facts. She recounted her story -with patience, and always in the same way. Her life from now on was -entirely expended in religious practices, domestic duties, and in -loving ministrations for her turtle. At the first signs of spring, -it awoke from its condition of lethargy. One day, unexpectedly, it -unsheathed from its shield the serpentine head and swung it weakly, -while its feet remained in torpor. The little eyes were half covered -with the eyelids. The animal, perhaps no longer conscious of being a -captive, pushed by the need to find food, as in the sand of its native -wood, moved at length with a lazy and uncertain effort, while feeling -the ground with its feet. - -Anna, in the presence of this reawakening, was filled with an ineffable -tenderness, and looked on with eyes wet with tears. Then she took -the turtle, laid it upon her bed, and offered it some green leaves. -The turtle hesitated to touch the leaves, and in opening its jaws -showed its fleshy tongue, like that of a parrot. The covering of the -neck and claws seemed to be the flaccid and yellowish membrane of -a dead body. The woman, at this sight, felt herself overcome with a -great tenderness; and to restore her beloved she caressed it as would -a mother a convalescent child. She greased with sweet oil the bony -shield, and as the sun beat down upon it the polished sections shone -with beauty. - -Among such cares passed the months of spring. But Zacchiele, counselled -by the spring season to greater pursuit of love, beset the woman -with such tender supplications that he had at last from her a solemn -promise. The nuptials should be celebrated the day preceding the -nativity of Christ. - -Then the idyl reblossomed. While Anna attended to her needlework -for her trousseau, Zacchiele read in a loud voice the story of the -New Testament. The marriage at Cana, the miracles of the Redeemer, -the dead of Nain, the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, the -liberation of the daughter of Cainan, the ten lepers, the blind-born, -the resurrection of the Nazarene, all of those miraculous narrations -ravished the soul of the woman. And she pondered long on Jesus who -entered into Jerusalem riding on an ass, while the people spread in His -path their garments and waved palms. - -In the room, the herb of thyme shed odour from an earthen vase. The -turtle came sometimes to the seamstress and caught in its mouth the hem -of the cloth, or chewed the leather of her shoe. One day Zacchiele, -while reading the parable of the Prodigal Son, feeling suddenly -something soft under his feet, through an involuntary motion of fright, -gave a kick, and the turtle, struck against the wall, fell back upside -down. Its dorsal shell burst in many places, while a little blood -appeared on one of its claws, which the animal waved fruitlessly in an -effort to regain its correct position. - -In spite of the fact that the unhappy lover showed himself contrite and -even inconsolable, Anna, after that day, locked herself in a kind of -diffident severity, scarcely spoke, and no longer wished to hear his -reading. And thus the Prodigal Son was left forever under the trees -with the acorns to watch his master’s pigs. - - -XI - -Zacchiele lost his life in the great flood of October, 1857. The dairy -farm where he lived, in the neighbourhood of the Cappuccini Convent, -beyond the Porta-Giulia, was inundated by the flood. The waters -covered the entire country, from the hill of Orlando to the hill of -Castellammare; and, since it had flown over vast deposits of clay, it -looked bloody as in the ancient fable. The tops of the trees emerged -here and there from this blood, so miry and extensive. At intervals -passed enormous trunks of trees with all of their roots, furniture, -unrecognisable materials, groups of beasts not yet dead who bellowed -and disappeared and then reappeared and were lost sight of in the -distance. The droves of oxen, especially, presented a wonderful sight; -their great white bodies pursued one another, their heads reared -desperately from out the water, furious interlacings of horns occurred -in their rushes of terror. As the sea was to the east, the waves at the -mouth of the river overflowed into it. The salt lake of Palata and its -estuaries also joined with the river. The fort became a lost island. -Inland the roads were submerged, and in the house of Donna Cristina the -water-line reached almost half way up the stairs. The tumult increased -continuously, while the bells sounded clamorously. The prisoners, -within their prisons, howled. - -Anna, believing in some supreme chastisement from the Most High, took -recourse in prayers for salvation. The second day, as she mounted -to the top of the pigeon-house, she saw nothing but water, water -everywhere under the clouds, and later observed, terrified, horses -galloping madly on the ridge of San Vitale. She descended, dulled, with -her mind in a turmoil, and the persistency of the noise and the mists -of the air blurred in her every sense of place and time. - -When the flood began to subside, the country people entered the city by -means of scows. Men, women and children carried in their faces and eyes -a grievous stupefaction. All narrated sad stories. And a ploughman of -the Cappuccini came to the Basile house to announce that Don Zacchiele -had been washed out to sea. The ploughman spoke simply in telling of -the death. He said that in the vicinity of the Cappuccini certain women -had bound their nursing children to the top of an enormous tree to -rescue them from the waters and that the whirlpools had uprooted the -tree, dragging down the five little creatures. Don Zacchiele was upon -a roof with other Christians in a compact group, and as the roof was -about to be submerged the corpses of animals and broken branches beat -against these desperate ones. When at length the tree with the babies -passed over them, the impact was so terrible that after its passage -there was no longer a trace of roof or Christians. - -Anna listened without weeping, and in her mind, shaken by the account -of that death, by that tree with its five infants, and those men all -crouched upon the roof while the corpses of beasts beat against it, -sprang up a kind of superstitious wonder like the excitement she had -felt in hearing certain stories of the Old Testament. She mounted -slowly to her room, and tried to compose herself. The sun shone upon -her window, and the turtle slept in a corner, covered with his shield, -while the chattering of swallows came from the tiles. All of these -natural things, this customary tranquillity of her daily life, little -by little comforted her. From the depths of that momentary calm at -length her grief arose clearly, and she bent her head upon her breast -in deep depression. - -Her heart was stung with remorse for having preserved against Zacchiele -that strange, silent rancour for so long a time; recollections one -after another came to mind, and the virtues of her lost lover shone -more brightly than ever in her memory. As the scourgings of her grief -increased, she got up, went to her bed, and there stretched herself out -upon her face. Her weeping mingled with the chattering of the birds. - -Afterwards, when her tears were dried, the peace of resignation began -to descend upon her soul, and she came to feel that everything of this -earth was frail and that we ought to bend ourselves to the will of God. -The unction of this simple act of consecration spread in her heart a -fulness of sweetness. She felt herself freed from all inquietude, and -found repose in her humble but firm faith. From now on in her law there -was but this one clause: The sovereign will of God, always just, always -adorable, established in all things praised and exalted through all -eternity. - - -XII - -Thus to the daughter of Luca was opened the true road to Paradise. -The passing of time was not marked by her except in ecclesiastical -occurrences. When the river re-entered its channel, there issued in -consecutive order for many days processions throughout the cities and -country. She followed all of them, together with the people, singing -the _Te Deum_. The vineyards everywhere had been devastated; the earth -was soft and the air pregnant with white vapours, singularly luminous, -like those rising from the swamps in spring. - -Then came the feast of All Saints; then the solemnity for the dead. -A great number of masses were celebrated for the assistance of the -victims of the flood. At Christmas Anna wished to make a manger; she -bought a Christ-child, Mary, Saint Joseph, an ox and an ass, wise men, -and shepherds, all made of wax. Accompanied by the daughter of the -sacristan she went to the ditches of the Salaria road to search for -moss. Under the glassy serenity of the fields, the lands were covered -with lime, the factory of Albarosa appeared on the hill among the -olives, and no voice disturbed the silence. Anna, as she discovered -the moss, bent and with a knife cut the clod. On contact with the -cold verdure her hands became violet coloured. From time to time, -at the sight of a clod greener than the others, there escaped from -her an exclamation of contentment. When her basket was full, she sat -down upon the edge of the ditch with the girl. She raised her eyes -thoughtfully and slowly to the olive-orchard, and they rested upon the -white wall of the factory that resembled a cloisteral edifice. Then she -bowed her head, tormented by her thoughts. Later she turned suddenly -to her companion—”Had she never seen the olives crushed!” She began -to picture the work of the crushing with voluble speech; and, as she -spoke, little by little arose in her mind other recollections than -those she was describing, and they showed themselves in her voice by a -slight trembling. - -That was the last weakness. In April of 1858, shortly after Ascension -Day, she fell sick. She remained in bed almost a month, tormented by -a pulmonary inflammation. Donna Cristina came morning and evening to -her room to visit her. An aged maid servant who made public profession -of assisting the sick gave her medicines to her. Then the turtle -cheered the days of her convalescence. And as the animal was emaciated -from fasting, and was nothing but skin, Anna, seeing him so lean, and -perceiving herself so debilitated, felt that secret satisfaction that -we experience when we suffer the same pain as a beloved one. A mild -tepidity arose from the tiles covered with lichens, in the court the -cocks crew, and one morning two swallows entered suddenly, flapped -their wings about the room, and fled away again. - -When Anna returned for the first time to the church, after her -recovery, it was the festival of roses. On entering she breathed in -greedily the perfume of incense. She walked softly along the nave, -in order to find the spot where she had been accustomed to kneel, and -she felt herself seized with a sudden joy when finally she discovered -between the mortuary stories that one which bore in its centre an -almost effaced bas-relief. She knelt upon it, and fell to praying. The -people multiplied. At a certain point in the ceremony two acolytes -descended from the choir with two silver basins full of roses, and -commenced to scatter the flowers upon the heads of the prostrate ones, -while the organ played a joyful hymn. Anna remained bent in a kind of -ecstasy that gave her the blessedness of the mystic celebration and a -vaguely voluptuous feeling of recovery. When several roses happened to -fall upon her, she gave a long sigh. The poor woman had never before -in her life experienced anything more sweet than that sigh of mystic -delight and its subsequent languor. - -The Rose Easter remained therefore Anna’s favourite festival and it -returned periodically without any noteworthy episode. In 1860 the city -was disturbed with serious agitations. One heard often in the night the -roll of drums, the alarms of sentinels, the reports of muskets. In the -house of Donna Cristina a more lively fervour for action manifested -itself among the five suitors. Anna was not frightened, but lived in -profound meditation, having neither a realisation of public events nor -of domestic wants, fulfilling her duties with machine-like exactness. - -In the month of September the fortress of Pescara was evacuated, the -Bourbon militia dispersed, their arms and baggage thrown into the -water of the river, while bands of citizens flocked through the streets -with liberal acclamations of joy. Anna, when she heard that the Abbot -Cennamele had fled precipitately, thought that the enemies of the -Church of God had triumphed, and was greatly grieved at this. - -After this her life unfolded in peace for a long time. The shell of the -turtle increased in breadth and became more opaque; the tobacco plant -sprang up annually, blossomed and fell; the wise swallows every autumn -departed for the land of the Pharaohs. In 1865 the great contest of the -suitors at length culminated in the victory of Don Fileno D’Amelio. The -nuptials were celebrated in the month of March with banquets of solemn -gaiety. There came to prepare the valuable dishes two Capuchin fathers, -Fra Vittorio and Fra Mansueto. - -They were the two who after the suppression of the order remained -to guard the convent. Fra Vittorio was a sexagenary, reddened, -strengthened and made happy by the juice of the grape. A little -green band covered an infirmity of his right eye, while the left -scintillated, full of a penetrating liveliness. He had exercised from -his youth the art of drugs, and, as he had much skill in the kitchen, -gentlemen were accustomed to summon him on occasions of festivity. -At work he used rough gestures that revealed in the ample sleeves his -hairy arms, his whole beard moved with every motion of his mouth and -his voice broke into shrill cries. Fra Mansueto, on the contrary, was -a lean old man with a great head and on his chin a goatee. He had two -yellowish eyes full of submission. He cultivated the soil and going -from door to door carried eatable herbs to the houses. In serving -a company he took a modest position, limped on one foot, spoke in -the soft idiomatic patois of Ortona, and, perhaps in memory of the -legend of Saint Thomas, exclaimed, “For the Turks!” every little while -stroking his polished head with his hand. - -Anna attended to the placing of the plates, the kitchen ware and the -coppers. It seemed to her now that the kitchen had assumed a kind of -secret solemnity through the presence of the brothers. She remained -to watch attentively all of the acts of Fra Vittorio, seized with -that trepidation that all simple people feel in the presence of men -gifted with some superior virtue. She admired especially the infallible -gesture with which the great Capuchin scattered upon the dishes certain -secret drugs of his, certain particular aromas known only to him. But -the humility, the mildness, the modest jokes of Fra Mansueto little by -little made a conquest of her. And the bonds of a common country and -the still stronger ones of a common dialect cemented their friendship. - -As they conversed, recollections of the past germinated in their -speech. Fra Mansueto had known Luca Minella and he was in the basilica -when the death of Francesca Nobile had happened among the pilgrims. -“For the Turks!” He had even helped to carry the corpse up to the house -at the Porta-Caldara, and he remembered that the dead woman wore a -waist of yellow silk and many chains of gold.... - -Anna grew sad. In her memory this matter up to that moment had remained -confused, vague, almost uncertain, dimmed by the very long inert -stupor that had followed her first paroxysms of epilepsy. But when Fra -Mansueto said that her mother was in Paradise because those who die -in the cause of religion dwell among the saints, Anna experienced an -unspeakable sweetness and felt suddenly surge up in her soul an immense -adoration for the sanctity of her mother. - -Then, remembering the places of her native country, she began to -discourse minutely on the Church of the Apostle, mentioning the -shapes of the altars, the position of the Chapels, the number of the -ornaments, the shape of the cupola, the positions of the images, the -divisions of the pavement and the colours of the windows. Fra Mansueto -followed her with benignity; and, since he had been in Ortona several -months before, recounted the new things seen there. The Archbishop of -Orsogna had given the Church a precious vase of gold with settings of -precious stones. The Confraternity of the Holy Sacrament had renovated -all the wood and leather of the stoles. Donna Blandina Onofrii -had furnished an entire change of apparel, consisting in Dalmatian -chasubles, stoles, sacerdotal cloaks and surplices. - -Anna listened greedily, and the desire to see these new things and -to see again the old ones began to torment her. When the Capuchin -was silent she turned to him with an air half of pleasure, half of -timidity. The May feast was drawing near. Should they go? - - -XIII - -During the last days of May, Anna, having had permission from Donna -Cristina, made her preparations. She felt anxious about the turtle. -Ought she to leave it or carry it with her? She remained a long time -in doubt but at length decided to carry it for security. She put -it in a basket with her clothes and the boxes of confection which -Donna Cristina was sending to Donna Veronica Monteferrante, Abbess -of the monastery of Santa Caterina. At dawn Anna and Fra Mansueto -set out. Anna had from the first a nimble step and a gay aspect; her -hair, already almost entirely grey, lay in shining folds beneath her -handkerchief. The brother limped, supporting himself with a stick, and -an empty knapsack swung from his shoulders. When they reached the wood -of pines, they made their first halt. - -The trees in the May morning, immersed in their native perfume, swayed -voluptuously between the serenity of the sky and that of the sea. The -trunks wept resin. The blackbirds whistled. All the fountains of life -seemed open for the transfiguration of the earth. - -Anna sat down upon the grass, offered the monk bread and fruit, and -began to talk about the festivity, eating at intervals. The turtle -tried with its two foremost legs to reach the edge of the basket, and -its timid serpent-like head projected and withdrew in its efforts. -Then, when Anna took it out, the beast began to advance on the moss -toward a bush of myrtle, with less slowness, perhaps feeling the joy -of its primitive liberty arise confusedly in it. Its shell amongst -the green looked more beautiful. Fra Mansueto made several moral -reflections and praised Providence that gives to the turtle a house, -and sleep during the winter season. Anna recounted several facts which -demonstrated great frankness and rectitude in the turtle. Then she -added, “What are the animals thinking of?” - -The brother did not answer. Both remained perplexed. There descended -from the bark of a pine a file of ants and they extended themselves -across the ground, each ant dragged a fragment of food and the entire -innumerable family fulfilled its work with diligent precision. Anna -watched, and there awoke in her mind the ingenuous beliefs of her -childhood. She spoke of wonderful dwellings that the ants excavated -beneath the earth. The brother replied with an accent of intense faith, -“God be praised!” And both remained pensive, beneath the greatness, -while worshipping God in their hearts. - -In the early hours of the evening they arrived in the country of -Ortona. Anna knocked at the door of the monastery and asked to see -the abbess. On entering they saw a little court paved with black and -white stone with a cistern in the centre. The reception parlour was -a low room, with a few chairs around it; two walls were occupied by a -grating, the other two by a crucifix and images. Anna was immediately -seized by a feeling of veneration for the solemn peace that reigned -in this spot. When the Mother Veronica appeared unexpectedly behind -the grating, tall and severe in her monastic habit, Anna experienced -an unspeakable confusion as if in the presence of a supernatural -apparition. Then, reassured by the kind smile of the abbess, she -delivered her message briefly, placed her boxes in the cavity of the -turnstile and waited. The Mother Veronica moved about her benignly, -watching her with her beautiful lion-like eyes; she gave her an effigy -of the Virgin, and in taking leave she extended her illustrious hand to -be kissed through the grating, and disappeared. - -Anna went out full of trepidation. As she passed the vestibule, there -reached her ears a chorus of litanies, a song, very regular and sweet, -which came perhaps from some subterranean chapel. When she passed -through the court she saw on the left, at the top of the wall, a branch -loaded with oranges. And, as she set foot again on the road, she seemed -to have left behind her a garden of blessedness. - -Then she turned toward the eastern road in order to search for her -relations. At the door of the old house an unknown woman stood leaning -against the door-post. Anna approached her timidly and asked news of -the family of Francesca Nobile. The woman interrupted her: “Why? Why? -What did she want?”—with a voice and an investigating expression. -Then, when Anna recalled herself, she permitted her to enter. - -The relations had almost all died or emigrated. There remained in -the house an old, rich man, Uncle Mingo, who had taken for his second -wife “the daughter of Sblendore” and lived with her almost in misery. -The old man at first did not recognise Anna. He was seated upon an -old ecclesiastical chair, whose red material hung in shreds; his -hands rested on the arms, contorted and rendered enormous through -the monstrosity of gout, his feet with rhythmic movements beat the -earth, while a continuous paralytic trembling agitated the muscles -of his neck, elbows and knees. As he gazed at Anna he held open with -difficulty his inflamed eyelids. At length he remembered her. - -As Anna proceeded to explain her own experiences, the daughter -of Sblendore, sniffing money, began to conceive in her mind hopes -of usurpation, and by virtue of these hopes became more benign in -her expression. Anna’s tale was scarcely told when she offered her -hospitality for the night, took her basket of clothes and laid it down, -promised to take care of her turtle and then made several complaints, -not without tears, about the infirmity of the old man and the misery of -their house. Anna went out with her soul full of pity; she went up the -coast toward the belfry of the church, feeling anxious on approaching -it. - -Around the Farnese palace the people surged like billows; and that -great feudal relic ornamented with figures, magnificent in the -sunlight, was most conspicuous. Anna passed through the crowd, -alongside of the benches of the silversmiths who made sacred apparel -and native objects. At all of that scintillating display of liturgical -forms her heart dilated with joy and she made the sign of the cross -before each bench as before an altar. When at night she reached the -door of the church and heard the canticle of the ritual, she could no -longer contain her joy as she advanced as far as the pulpit, with steps -almost vacillating. Her knees bent beneath her and the tears welled up -in her eyes. She remained there in contemplation of the candelabras, -the ostensories, of all those objects on the altar, her mind dizzy -from having eaten nothing since morning. An immense weakness seized -her nerves and her soul shrank to the point of annihilation. Above her, -along the central nave, the glass lamps formed a triple crown of fire. -In the distance, four solid trunks of wax flamed at the sides of the -tabernacle. - - -XIV - -The five days of the festival Anna lived thus within the church from -early morning until the hour at which the doors were closed—most -faithfully she breathed in that warm air which implanted in her senses -a blissful torpor, in her soul a joy, full of humility. The orations, -the genuflections, the salutations, all of those formulas, all of those -ritualistic gestures incessantly repeated, dulled her senses. The fumes -of the incense hid the earth from her. - -Rosaria, the daughter of Sblendore, meanwhile profited by moving -her to pity with lying complaints and by the miserable spectacle -of the paralytic old man. She was an unprincipled woman, expert in -fraud and dedicated to debauchery; her entire face was covered with -blisters, red and serpentine, her hair grey, her stomach obese. Bound -to the paralytic by vices common to both and by marriage, she and -he had squandered in a short time their substance in guzzling and -merry-making. Both in their misery, venomous from privation, burning -with thirst for wine and liquor, harassed by the infirmities of -decrepitude, were now expiating their prolonged sinning. - -Anna, with a spontaneous impulse for charity, gave to Rosaria all her -money kept for alms-giving and her superfluous clothes as well as her -earrings, two gold rings and her coral necklace and she promised still -further support. At length she retraced the road to Pescara, in company -with Fra Mansueto, and bearing the turtle in her basket. - -During their walk, as the houses of Ortona withdrew into the distance, -a great sadness descended upon the soul of the woman. Crowds of singing -pilgrims were passing in other directions, and their songs, monotonous -and slow, remained a long while in the air. Anna listened to them; -an overwhelming desire drew her to join them, to follow them, to live -thus, making pilgrimages from sanctuary to sanctuary, from country to -country, in order to exalt the miracles of every saint, the virtues of -every relic, the bounty of every Mary. - -“They go to Cucullo,” Fra Mansueto said, pointing with his arm to -some distant country. And both began to talk of Saint Domenico, -who protected the men from the bite of serpents and the seed from -caterpillars; then they spoke of the patron saints. At Bugnara, on -the bridge of Rivo, more than a hundred cart-houses, among horses and -mules, laden with fruit, were going in a procession to the Madonna of -the Snow. The devotees rode on their chargers, with sprigs of spikenard -on their heads, with strings of dough on their shoulders, and they -laid at the feet of the image their cereal gifts. At Bisenti, many -youths, with baskets of grain on their heads, were conducting along -the roads an ass that carried on its back a larger basket, and they -entered the Church of the Madonna of the Angels, to offer them up, -while singing. At Torricella Peligna, men and children, crowned with -roses and garlands of roses, went up on a pilgrimage to the Madonna of -the Roses, situated upon a cliff where was the foot-prints of Samson. -At Loreto Apentino a white ox, fattened during the year with abundance -of pasturage, moved in pomp behind the statue of Saint Zopito. A red -drapery covered him and a child rode upon him. As the sacred ox entered -the church, he gave forth the excrescence of his food and the devotees -from this smoking material presaged future agriculture. - -Of such religious usages Anna and Fra Mansueto were speaking, when -they reached the mouth of the Alento. The Channel carried the water -of spring between the green foliage not yet flowered. And the Capuchin -spoke of the Madonna of the Incoronati, where for the festival of Saint -John the devotees wreath their heads with vines, and during the night -go with great rejoicing to the River Gizio to bathe. - -Anna removed her shoes in order to ford the river. She felt now in -her soul an immense and loving veneration for everything, for the -trees, the grass, the animals, for all that those Catholic customs had -sanctified. Thus from the depths of her ignorance and simplicity arose -the instinct of idolatry. - -Several months after her return, an epidemic of cholera broke out in -the country, and the mortality was great. Anna lent her services to the -poor sick ones. Fra Mansueto died. Anna felt much grief at this. In -the year 1866, at the recurrence of the festival, she wished to take -leave and return to her native place forever, because she saw in her -sleep every night Saint Thomas who commanded her to depart. So she took -the turtle, her clothes and her savings, weeping she kissed the hand -of Donna Cristina, and departed upon a cart, together with two begging -nuns. - -At Ortona she dwelt in the house of her paralytic uncle. She slept upon -a straw pallet and ate nothing but bread and vegetables. She dedicated -every hour of the day to the practices of the Church, with a marvellous -fervour, and her mind gradually lost all ability to do anything save -contemplate Christian mysteries, adore symbols and imagine Paradise. -She was completely absorbed with divine charity, completely encompassed -with that divine passion which the sacerdotals manifest always with -the same signs and the same words. She comprehended but that one single -language; had but that one single refuge, sweet and solemn, where her -whole heart dilated in a pious security of peace and where her eyes -moistened with an ineffable sweetness of tears. - -She suffered, for the love of Jesus, domestic miseries, was gentle -and submissive and never proffered a lament, a reproof, or a threat. -Rosaria extracted from her little by little all of her savings, and -commenced then to let her go hungry, to overtax her, to call her -vicious names and to persecute the turtle with fierce insistency. -The old paralytic gave forth continuously a species of hoarse howls, -opening his mouth where the tongue trembled and from which dripped -continually quantities of saliva. One day, because his greedy wife -swallowed before him some liquor and denied him a drink, escaping with -the glass, he arose from his chair with an effort and began to walk -toward her, his legs wavering, his feet striking the ground with an -involuntary rhythmic stroke. Suddenly he moved faster, his trunk bent -forward, while hopping with short pursuing steps, as if pushed by an -irresistible impulse, until at length he fell face downward upon the -edge of the stairs. - - -XV - -Then Anna, in distress, took the turtle and went to ask succour of -Donna Veronica Monteferrante. As the poor woman had already done -several services for the monastery, the Abbess, pitying her, gave her -work as a serving-nun. - -Anna, though she had not taken the orders, dressed in the nun’s -costume: the black tunic, the throat-bands, the head-dress with -its ample white brims. She seemed to herself, in that habit, to be -sanctified. And at first, when the air flapped the brims around her -head with a noise as of wings, she shuddered with a sudden confusion in -her veins. Also when the brims struck by the sun reflected on her face -the colour of snow, she suddenly felt herself illuminated by a mystic -ray. - -With the passing of time, her ecstasies became more frequent. The -grey-haired virgin was thrilled from time to time by angelic songs, -by distant echoes of organs, by rumours and voices not perceptible -to other ears. Luminous figures presented themselves to her in the -darkness, odours of Paradise carried her out of herself. - -Thus a kind of sacred horror began to spread through the monastery -as if through the presence of some occult power, as if through the -imminence of some supernatural event. As a precaution the new convert -was released from every obligation pertaining to servile work. All of -her positions, all of her words, all of her glances were observed and -commented upon with superstition. And the legend of her sanctity began -to flower. - -On the first of February in the year of Our Lord 1873, the voice of -the virgin Anna became singularly hoarse and deep. Later her power of -speech suddenly disappeared. This unexpected dumbness terrified the -minds of the nuns. And all, standing around the convert, considered -with mystic terror her ecstatic postures, the vague motions of her mute -mouth and the immobility of her eyes from which overflowed at intervals -inundations of tears. The lineaments of the sick woman, extenuated -by long fastings, had now assumed a purity almost of ivory, while the -entire outlines of her arteries now seemed to be visible, and projected -in such strong relief and palpitated so incessantly, that before that -open palpitation of blood a kind of dread seized the nuns, as if they -were viewing a body stripped of its skin. - -When the month of Mary drew near, a loving diligence prompted -the Benedictines to the preparation of an oratory. They scattered -throughout the cloisteral garden, all flowering with roses and fruitful -with oranges, while they gathered the harvest of early May in order -to lay it at the foot of the altar. Anna having recovered her usual -state of calmness, descended likewise to help at the pious work. She -conveyed often with gestures the thoughts which her obstinate muteness -forbade her to express. All of the brides of Our Lord lingered in the -sun, walking among the fountains luxuriant with perfume. There was on -one side of the garden a door, and as in the souls of the virgins the -perfumes awoke suppressed thought, so the sun in penetrating beneath -the two arches revived in the plaster the residue of Byzantine gold. - -The oratory was ready for the day of the first prayer. The ceremony -began after the Vespers. A sister mounted to the organ. Presently from -the keys the cry of the Passion penetrated everywhere, all foreheads -bowed, the censers gave out the fumes of jasmine and the flames of the -tapers palpitated among crowns of flowers. Then arose the canticles, -the litanies full of symbolic appellations and supplicating tenderness. -As the voices mounted with increasing strength, Anna, impelled by the -immense force of her fervour, screamed. Struck with wonder, she fell -supine, agitating her arms and trying to arise. The litanies stopped. -The sisters, several almost terrified, had remained an instant immobile -while others gave assistance to the sick woman. The miracle seemed to -them most unexpected, brilliant and supreme. - -Then, little by little, stupor, uncertain murmurs and vacillation -were succeeded by a rejoicing without limit, a chorus of clamorous -exaltations and a mingled drowsiness as of inebriety. Anna, on her -knees, still absorbed in the rapture of the miracle, was not conscious -of what was happening around her. But when the canticles with greater -vehemence were begun again, she sang too. Her notes from the descending -waves of the chorus, at intervals emerged, since the devotees -diminished the force of their voices in order to hear that one which by -divine grace had been restored. And the Virgin became from time to time -the censer of gold from which they exhaled sweet balsam, she was the -lamp that by day and night lighted the sanctuary, the urn that enclosed -the manna from heaven, the flame that burned without consuming, the -stem of Jesse that bore the most beautiful of all flowers. - -Afterwards the fame of the miracle spread from the monastery throughout -the entire country of Ortona and from the country to all adjoining -lands, growing as it travelled. And the monastery rose to great -respect. Donna Blandina Onofrii, the magnificent, presented to the -Madonna of the Oratorio a vest of brocaded silver and a rare necklace -of turquoise came from the island of Smyrna. The other Ortosian ladies -gave other minor gifts. The Archbishop of Orsagna made with pomp a -congratulatory visit, in which he exchanged words of eloquence with -Anna, who “from the purity of her life had been rendered worthy of -celestial gifts.” - -In August of the year 1876 new prodigies arrived. The infirm woman, -when she approached vespers, fell in a state of cataleptic ecstasy; -from which she arose later almost with violence. On her feet, while -preserving always the same position, she began to talk, at first slowly -and then gradually accelerating, as if beneath the urgency of a mystic -inspiration. Her eloquence was but a tumultuous medley of words, -of phrases, of entire selections learned before, which now in her -unconsciousness reproduced themselves, growing fragmentary or combining -without sequence. - -She repeated native dialectic expressions mingled with courtly forms, -and with the hyperboles of Biblical language as well as extraordinary -conjunctions of syllables and scarcely audible harmonies of songs. But -the profound trembling of her voice, the sudden changes of inflection, -the alternate ascending and descending of the tone, the spirituality -of the ecstatic figure, the mystery of the hour, all helped to make a -profound impression upon the onlookers. - -These effects repeated themselves daily, with a periodic regularity. At -vespers in the oratorio they lit the lamps; the nuns made a kneeling -circle, and the sacred representation began. As the infirm woman -entered into the cataleptic ecstasies, vague preludes on the organ -lifted the souls of the worshippers to a higher sphere. The light of -the lamps was diffused on high, giving forth an uncertain flicker, and -a fading sweetness to the appearance of things. At a certain point the -organ was silent. The respiration of the infirm woman became deeper, -her arms were stretched so that in the emaciated wrists the tendons -vibrated like the strings of an instrument. Then suddenly, the sick -woman bounded to her feet, crossed her arms on her breast, while -resting in the position of the Caryatides of a Baptistery. Her voice -resounded in the silence, now sweetly, now lugubriously, now placid, -almost always incomprehensible. - -At the beginning of the year 1877 these paroxysms diminished in -frequency, they occurred two or three times a week and then totally -disappeared, leaving the body of the woman in a miserable state of -weakness. Then several years passed, in which the poor idiot lived -in atrocious suffering, with her limbs rendered inert from muscular -spasms. She was no longer able to keep herself clean, she ate only -soft bread and a few herbs and wore around her neck and on her breast -a large quantity of little crosses, relics and other images. She spoke -stutteringly through lack of teeth and her hair fell out, her eyes were -already glazed like those of an old beast of burden about to die. - -One time, in May, while she was suffering, deposited under the portal, -and the sisters were gathering the roses for Maria, there passed -before her the turtle which still dragged its pacific and innocent life -through the cloisteral garden. The old woman saw it move and little by -little recede. It awakened no recollection in her mind. The turtle lost -itself among the bunches of thyme. - -But the sisters regarded her imbecility and the infirmity of the woman -as one of those supreme proofs of martyrdom to which the Lord calls the -elect in order to sanctify and glorify them later in Paradise and they -surrounded her with veneration and care. - -In the summer of the year 1881, there appeared signs of approaching -death. Consumed and maimed, that miserable body no longer resembled a -human being. Slow deformations had corrupted the joints of the arms; -tumours, large as apples, protruded from her sides, on her shoulder and -on the back of her head. - -The morning of the 10th day of September, about the eighth hour, a -trembling of the earth shook Ortona to its foundations. Many buildings -fell, the roofs and walls of others were injured, and still others were -bent and twisted. All of the good people of Ortona, with weeping, with -cries, with invocations, with great invoking of saints and madonnas, -came out of their doors and assembled on the plain of San Rocco, -fearing greater perils. The nuns, seized with panic, broke from the -cloister and ran into the streets, struggling and seeking safety. Four -of them bore Anna upon a table. And all drew toward the plain, in the -direction of the uninjured people. - -As they arrived in sight of the people, spontaneous shouts arose, -since the presence of these religious souls seemed propitious. On all -sides lay the sick, the aged and infirm, children in swaddling clothes, -women stupid from fear. A beautiful morning sun shed lustre upon the -tumultuous waves of the sea and upon the vineyards; and along the lower -coast the sailors ran, seeking their wives, calling their children by -name, out of breath, and hoarse from climbing; and from Caldara there -began to arrive herds of sheep and oxen with their keepers, flocks of -turkey-cocks with their feminine guardians, and cart-houses, since all -feared solitude and men and beasts in the turmoil became comrades. - -Anna, resting upon the ground, beneath an olive tree, perceiving death -to be near, was mourning with a weak murmur, because she did not wish -to die without the Sacrament, and the nuns around her administered -comfort to her, and the bystanders looked at her piously. Now, suddenly -among the people spread the news that from the Porta Caldara had issued -the image of the Apostle. Hope revived and hymns of thanksgiving -mounted to the sky. As from afar vibrated an unexpected flash, the -women knelt and tearfully with their hair dishevelled, began to walk -upon their knees, towards the flash, while intoning psalms. - -Anna became agonised. Sustained by two sisters, she heard the prayers, -heard the announcement, and perhaps under her last illusions, she saw -the Apostle approaching, for over her hollow face there passed a smile -of joy. Several bubbles of saliva appeared upon her lips, a violent -undulation of her body occurred, extended visibly to the extremities of -her body, while upon her eyes the eyelids fell, reddish as from thin -blood, and her head shrank into her shoulders. Thus the virgin Anna -finally expired. - -When the flash appeared more closely to the adoring women, there shone -in the sun the form of a beast of burden carrying balanced upon its -back, according to the custom, an ornament of metal. - - - THE END - - - - - THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS - GARDEN CITY, N. Y. - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes - -Original spelling and punctuation have been preserved as much as -possible. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Tales of My Native Town - -Author: Gabriele D'Annunzio - -Contributor: Joseph Hergesheimer - -Translator: Rafael Mantellini - -Release Date: October 13, 2017 [EBook #55742] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF MY NATIVE TOWN *** - - - - -Produced by ellinora, Barbara Magni and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="booktitle"> -<h1> -TALES<br /> -OF MY<br /> -NATIVE TOWN -</h1> -</div> - -<hr class="silver" /> - -<div class="figcenter break-before"><a id="fill-front"></a> - <img src="images/ill-front.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<p class="main-t"> -TALES <i>of my</i> NATIVE TOWN -</p> - -<p class="pad2"> -By -</p> - -<p class="xx-large"> -Gabriele D’Annunzio -</p> - -<p class="pad2"> -<span class="small">TRANSLATED BY</span><br /> -<span class="x-large">PROF. RAFAEL MANTELLINI, Ph.D.</span><br /> -<span class="x-small">INSTRUCTOR OF ROMANCE LANGUAGES AT THE<br /> -BERKELEY-IRVING SCHOOL, NEW YORK CITY</span> -</p> - -<p class="pad2"> -WITH AN INTRODUCTION<br /> -BY<br /> -<span class="x-large">JOSEPH HERGESHEIMER</span> -</p> - -<p class="pad6"> -<span class="small">GARDEN CITY NEW YORK LONDON</span><br /> -<span class="x-large">DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY</span><br /> -1920 -</p> -</div> - -<div class="verso"> -<hr class="mid" /> -<p class="small"> -COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY<br /> -DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY<br /> -ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF<br /> -TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES,<br /> -INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN -</p> -<hr class="mid" /> -</div> - -<div class="somm"> -<h2> -CONTENTS -</h2> - -<table class="indice" summary=""> - <tr> - <td> </td> <td> </td> <td class="pag x-small">PAGE</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">I</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale1">The Hero</a></span></td> <td class="pag">3</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">II</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale2">The Countess of Amalfi</a></span></td> <td class="pag">10</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">III</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale3">The Return of Turlendana</a></span></td> <td class="pag">56</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">IV</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale4">Turlendana Drunk</a></span></td> <td class="pag">72</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">V</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale5">The Gold Pieces</a></span></td> <td class="pag">83</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">VI</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale6">Sorcery</a></span></td> <td class="pag">92</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">VII</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale7">The Idolaters</a></span></td> <td class="pag">119</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">VIII</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale8">Mungia</a></span></td> <td class="pag">140</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">IX</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale9">The Downfall of Candia</a></span></td> <td class="pag">153</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">X</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale10">The Death of the Duke of Ofena</a></span></td> <td class="pag">172</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">XI</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale11">The War of the Bridge</a></span></td> <td class="pag">192</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cap">XII</td> <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#tale12">The Virgin Anna</a></span></td> <td class="pag">215</td> - </tr> -</table> -<hr /> - -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="intro">INTRODUCTION -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">By Joseph Hergesheimer</span></span></h2> -</div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p> -The attitude of mind necessary to a complete -enjoyment of the tales in this book -must first spring from the realisation that, as -stories, they are as different from our own short -imaginative fiction as the town of Pescara, on -the Adriatic Sea, is different from Marblehead in -Massachusetts. It is true that fundamentally the -motives of creative writing, at least in the Western -Hemisphere, are practically everywhere alike; -they are what might be called the primary -emotions, hatred and envy, love and cruelty, lust, -purity and courage. There are others, but these -are sufficient: and an analysis of The Downfall of -Candia together with any considerable story native -to the United States would disclose a similar -genesis. -</p> - -<p> -But men are not so much united by the deeper -bonds of a common humanity as they are separated -by the superficial aspects and prejudices of -society. The New England town and Pescara, at -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span> -heart very much the same, are far apart in the -overwhelming trivialities of civilisation, and -Signor D’Annunzio’s tales, read in a local state of -being, might as well have remained untranslated. -But this difference, of course, lies in the writer, -not in his material; and Gabriele D’Annunzio is -the special and peculiar product of modern Italy. -</p> - -<p> -No other country, no other history, would have -given birth to a genius made up of such contending -and utterly opposed qualities: it is exactly as -if all the small principalities that were Italy before -the Risorgemento, all the amazing contradictions -of stark heroics and depraved nepotism, the -fanaticism and black blood and superstition, with -the introspective and febrile weariness of a very -old land, were bound into D’Annunzio’s being. -</p> - -<p> -Not only is this true of the country and of the -man, the difference noted, it particularly includes -the writing itself. And exactly here is the difficulty -which, above all others, must be overcome if -pleasure is to result from “Tales of My Native -Town.” These are not stories at all, in the sense -of an individual coherent action with the stirring -properties of a plot. The interest is not cunningly -seized upon and stimulated and baffled up to a -satisfactory finale. The formula that constitutes -the base of practically every applauded story here—a -determination opposed to hopeless odds but -invariably triumphant—is not only missing from -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[ix]</span> -Tales of My Native Town, in the majority of -cases it is controverted. For the greater part man -is the victim of inimical powers, both within him -and about; and fate, or rather circumstance, is -too heavy for the defiance of any individual. -</p> - -<p> -What, actually, has happened is that D’Annunzio -has not disentangled these coherent fragments -from the mass of life. He has not lifted -his tales into the crystallised isolation of a short -story: they merge from the beginning and beyond -the end into the general confusion of existence, -they are moments, significantly tragic or humorous, -selected from the whole incomprehensible -sweep of a vastly larger work, and presented as -naturally as possible. However, they are not -without form, in reality these tales are woven with -an infinite delicacy, an art, like all art, essentially -artificial. But a definite interest in them, the sense -of their beauty, must rise from an intrinsic interest -in the greater affair of being. It is useless -for anyone not impressed with the beauty of sheer -living as a spectacle to read “Tales of My Native -Town.” -</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p> -The clear understanding of a divergence should -result in a common ground of departure, of sympathy, -and to make this plainer still it ought to -be added that in the question of taste, of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[x]</span> -latitude of allowable material and treatment, the -Italians are far more comprehensive than ourselves. -This, certainly, is particularly true in their -attitude toward the relation of the sexes; and here -is, perhaps, the greatest difference between what -might be loosely called a Latin literature and an -Anglo-Saxon. We are almost exclusively interested -in the results, the reactions, of sexual -contacts; but the former have their gaze fixed -keenly on the process itself. At the most we -indicate that consummations of passion have occurred, -and then turn, with a feeling of relief, to -what we are convinced is the greater importance -of its consequences. -</p> - -<p> -But not only is Gabriele D’Annunzio perfectly -within his privilege in lingering over any important, -act of nature, he is equally at liberty to develop all -the smaller expressions of lust practically barred -from English or American pens. These, undeniably, -have as large an influence in one country, -one man, as in another; they are—as small things -are apt to be—more powerful in the end than -the greatest attributes. Yet while we have agreed -to ignore them, to discard them as ignoble and -obscene, in “Tales of My Native Town” erotic -gestures and thoughts, libidinous whispers, play -their inevitable devastating part. -</p> - -<p> -Yet this is not a book devoted to such impulses; -one tale only, although in many ways that is the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">[xi]</span> -best, has as its motive lust. It is rather in the -amazingly direct treatment of disease, of physical -abnormality, that it will be disturbing to the unprepared -reader from an entirely different and less -admirable, or, at any rate, less honest, convention. -Undoubtedly D’Annunzio’s unsparing revelation -of human deformity and ills will seem -morbid to the unaccustomed mind; but, conversely, -it can be urged that the dread of these details is -in itself morbid. Then, too, we have an exaggerated -horror of the unpleasant, a natural, but -saccharine, preference for happiness. As a nation -we are not conspicuously happier than Italy, -but we clamour with a deafening insistence for the -semblance of a material good fortune. Meeting -pain no better and no worse than other nations, -from our written stories we banish it absolutely; -but anyone who cares to realise the beauty that, -beyond question, pervades the following pages -will be obliged to harden himself to meet precisely -the deplorable accidents that he must face -wherever life has been contaminated by centuries -of brutal ignorance, oppression and want. -</p> - -<p> -Again, it is not in the larger aspects, the nobler -phases, of suffering with which we are concerned, -but in the cold revelation of rasping details, brutal -sores and deformity, the dusty spiders of paralysis. -If this were all it would be hideous beyond support; -but, fortunately, the coldness is only in the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">[xii]</span> -method, there is a saving spirit of pity, the valid -humanity born of understanding. Such horror as -exists here is the result of D’Annunzio’s sensitive -recognition of the weight of poverty and superstition -crushing men into unspeakable fatalities of -the flesh. A caustic humour, as well, illuminates -the darker pits of existence, ironic rather than -satirical, bitter rather than fatalistic; and then admirably -exposing the rough play of countrymen -like the rough wine of their Province. In addition -there is always, for reassurance, the inclusion of -the simple bravery that in itself leavens both life -and books with hope. -</p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p> -Yet, with the attention directed so exclusively -upon national differences, equally it must be said -that no individual has ever written into literature -a more minute examination of actuality than that -in “Tales of My Native Town.” Indeed, to find -its counterpart it would be necessary to turn to the -relentlessly veracious paintings of the early Dutchmen, -or the anatomical canvasses of El Greco. -D’Annunzio’s descriptions of countenances are -dermatological, the smallest pores are carefully -traced, the shape and hue and colour of every feature. -This is set down not only directly but by -means of remarkable similies: Binchi-Blanche has -a surly, yellow-lined face like a lemon without any -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</span> -juice; Africana’s husband’s mouth resembles the -cut in a rotten pumpkin; Ciarole’s face was that of -a gilded wooden effigy from which the gilding had -partly worn off; while Biagio Quaglia reflected -the brilliancy and freshness of an almond tree in -springtime. -</p> - -<p> -The direct descriptions are often appalling, -since, as has already been indicated, nothing is considered -unimportant; there are literally no reservations, -or rather, no, prejudices. The physical -disintegration that accompanies death is, as well, -recorded to the last black clot and bubble of red -froth. D’Annunzio is not afraid of death in the -context of his pages, he is never reluctant to meet -the great facts, the terrible penalties, of existence; -rather it is upon them that his writing is founded; -it has, in the main, in these tales, two sides, one -of violence, of murder and venom, and the other -an idyllic presentation of a setting, an environment, -saturated with classic and natural beauty. -</p> - -<p> -The mind, now horrified by the dislocated -beggars gathered about the blind Mungia, is suddenly -swept into the release of evening fragrantly -cool like myrtles; or Turlendana returns from -his long voyages and, with his amazing animals, -makes his way home into Pescara: “The river of -his native place carried to him the peaceful air of -the sea.... The silence was profound. The -cobwebs shone tranquilly in the sun like mirrors -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiv">[xiv]</span> -framed by the crystal of the sea.” He passes with -the Cyclopean camel, the monkey and the she-ass -across the boat bridge and: “Far behind the -mountain of Gran Sasso the setting sun irradiated -the spring sky ... and from the damp earth, the -water of the river, the seas, and the ponds, the -moisture had arisen. A rosy glow tinted the -houses, the sails, the masts, the plants, and the -whole landscape, and the figures of the people, -acquiring a sort of transparency, grew obscure, -the lines of their contour wavering in the fading -light.” -</p> - -<p> -Nothing could surpass in peacefulness this -vision, a scene like a mirage of fabulous days -wrapped in tender colour. Throughout the tale of -The Virgin Anna, too, there are, in spite of the -vitriolic realism of its spirit, the crystal ecstasies -of white flocks of girls before the Eucharist of -their first communion. While it was Anna’s -father who came ashore from his voyages to the -island of Rota with his shirt all scented with -southern fruit. The Virgin Anna has many points -of resemblance to that other entranced peasant -in Une Vie Simple; but Anna had a turtle in place -of a parrot, and D’Annunzio is severer with his -subject than was Flaubert. -</p> - -<p> -But such idylls are quickly swept away in the -fiery death of the Duke of Orfena, with the -pistols ringing in high stately chambers, and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xv">[xv]</span> -Mazzagrogna, the major-domo, a dripping corpse, -hanging in the railing of a balcony. There is no -shrinking, no evasion, here; and none is permitted -the reader:—the flames that consume the Duke -are not romantic figments, their fierce energy -scorches the imagination. -</p> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<p> -These qualities belong to a high order of -creative writing, they can never be the property of -mere talent, they have no part in concessions to -popular and superficial demands. This does not -necessarily imply a criticism of the latter: it is not -a crime to prefer happiness to misery, and certainly -the tangible facts of happiness are success -and the omnipotence of love. Tales and stories -exist as a source of pleasure, but men take their -pleasures with a difference; and for any who are -moved by the heroic spectacle of humanity pinned -by fatality to earth but forever struggling for -release “Tales of My Native Town” must have a -deep significance. -</p> - -<p> -No one has abhorred brutality and deception -more passionately than Gabriele D’Annunzio, and -no one has held himself more firmly to the exact -drawing of their insuperable evils. But this is not -all; it is not, perhaps, even the most important -aspect: that may well be his fascinating art. Here, -above all, the contending elements, of his being, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvi">[xvi]</span> -the brilliant genius of the Renaissance, predominate; -an age bright with blood and gold -and silk, an age of poetry as delicately cultivated -as its assassinations. It was a period logical and -cruel, lovely and corrupt; and, to an extraordinary -degree, it has its reflection in D’Annunzio’s writing. -</p> - -<p> -Yet, in him, it is troubled by modern apprehensions, -a social conscience unavoidable now to -any fineness of perception. His tales are no -longer simply the blazing arbitrary pictures of the -Quatrocento; they possess our own vastly more -burdened spirit. In this, as well, they are as -American as they are Italian; the crimes and -beggars and misery of Pescara, the problems and -hopes of one, belong to the other; the bonds of -need and sympathy are complete. -</p> - -<p> -The tales themselves are filled with energy and -movement, the emotions are in high keys. At -times a contest of will, of temptation playing with -fear, as in The Gold Pieces, they rise to pitched -battles between whole towns; the factions, more -often than not led by Holy reliques and statues, a -sacred arm in silver or the sparkling bust of a -Saint with a solar disc, massed with scythes and -bars and knives, meet in sanguinary struggle. Or -again the passions smoulder into individual bitterness -and scandal and mean hatred. The Duchess -of Amalfi is such a chronicle, the record of Don -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvii">[xvii]</span> -Giovà’s devastating passion for Violetta Kutufa, -who came to Pescara with a company of singers -at Carnival. -</p> - -<p> -Nothing is omitted that could add to the veracity, -the inevitable collapse, of this almost senile -Don Juan; while the psychology of the ending is -an accomplishment of arresting power and fitness. -There is in The Duchess of Amalfi a vivid -presentation of Pescara itself, the houses and -Violetta’s room scented with cyprus-powder, the -square with the cobblers working and eating figs, -a caged blackbird whistling the Hymn of Garibaldi, -the Casino, immersed in shadow, its tables -sprinkled with water. -</p> - -<p> -Around Pescara is the level sea, the river and -mountains and the broad campagnia, the vines, the -wine vats and oil presses, the dwellings of mud -and reeds; the plain is flooded with magnificent -noon, and, at night, Turlendana, drunk, is mocked -by the barking of vagrant dogs; the men linger -under Violetta’s lighted windows, and the strains -of her song run through all the salons, all the -heads, of the town.... It is as far away as -possible, and yet, in its truth, implied in every -heart. -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span> -</p> - -<p class="title"> -TALES OF MY NATIVE -TOWN -</p> - -<h2 class="pad2" id="tale1">I -<span class="smaller"><i>THE HERO</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<p> -Already the huge standards of Saint -Gonselvo had appeared on the square and -were swaying heavily in the breeze. Those who -bore them in their hands were men of herculean -stature, red in the face and with their necks swollen -from effort; and they were playing with them. -</p> - -<p> -After the victory over the Radusani the people -of Mascalico celebrated the feast of September -with greater magnificence than ever. A marvellous -passion for religion held all souls. The entire -country sacrificed the recent richness of the corn -to the glory of the Patron Saint. Upon the streets -from one window to another the women had -stretched their nuptial coverlets. The men had -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span> -wreathed with vines the doorways and heaped up -the thresholds with flowers. As the wind blew -along the streets there was everywhere an immense -and dazzling undulation which intoxicated -the crowd. -</p> - -<p> -From the church the procession proceeded to -wind in and out and to lengthen out as far as the -square. Before the altar, where Saint Pantaleone -had fallen, eight men, privileged souls, were awaiting -the moment for the lifting of the statue of -Saint Gonselvo; their names were: Giovanni Curo, -l’Ummalido, Mattala, Vencenzio Guanno, Rocco -di Cenzo, Benedetto Galante, Biagio di Clisci, -Giovanni Senzapaura. They stood in silence, conscious -of the dignity of their work, but with their -brains slightly confused. They seemed very -strong; had the burning eye of the fanatic, and -wore in their ears, like women, two circles of gold. -From time to time they tested their biceps and -wrists as if to calculate their vigour; or smiled -fugitively at one another. -</p> - -<p> -The statue of the Patron Saint was enormous, -very heavy, made of hollow bronze, blackish, with -the head and hands of silver. -</p> - -<p> -Mattala cried: -</p> - -<p> -“Ready!” -</p> - -<p> -The people, everywhere, struggled to see. The -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span> -windows of the church roared at every gust of the -wind. The nave was fumigated with incense and -resin. The sounds of instruments were heard now -and then. A kind of religious fever seized the -eight men, in the centre of that turbulence. They -extended their arms to be ready. -</p> - -<p> -Mattala cried: -</p> - -<p> -“One! Two! Three!” -</p> - -<p> -Simultaneously the men made the effort to raise -the statue to the altar. But its weight was overpowering, -and the figure swayed to the left. The -men had not yet succeeded in getting a firm grip -around the base. They bent their backs in their -endeavour to resist. Biagio di Clisci and Giovanni -Curo, the least strong, lost their hold. The statue -swerved violently to one side. L’Ummalido gave -a cry. -</p> - -<p> -“Take care! Take care!” vociferated the -spectators on seeing the Patron Saint so imperilled. -From the square came a resounding crash that -drowned all voices. -</p> - -<p> -L’Ummalido had fallen on his knees with his -right arm beneath the bronze. Thus kneeling, he -held his two large eyes, full of terror and pain, -fixed on his hand which he could not free, while his -mouth twisted but no longer spoke. Drops of -blood sprinkled the altar. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span> -</p> - -<p> -His companions, all together, made a second -effort to raise the weight. The operation was difficult. -L’Ummalido, in a spasm of pain, twisted -his mouth. The women spectators shuddered. -</p> - -<p> -At length the statue was lifted and L’Ummalido -withdrew his hand, crushed and bleeding and -formless. “Go home, now! Go home!” the people -cried, while pushing him toward the door of -the church. -</p> - -<p> -A woman removed her apron and offered it to -him for a bandage. L’Ummalido refused it. He -did not speak, but watched a group of men who -were gesticulating and disputing around the -statue. -</p> - -<p> -“It is my turn!” -</p> - -<p> -“No!—no! It’s my turn!” -</p> - -<p> -“No! let me!” -</p> - -<p> -Cicco Ponno, Mattia Seafarolo and Tommaso -di Clisci were contending for the place left vacant -by L’Ummalido. -</p> - -<p> -He approached the disputants. Holding his -bruised hand at his side, and with the other opening -a path, he said simply: -</p> - -<p> -“The position is mine.” -</p> - -<p> -And he placed his left shoulder as a prop for -the Patron Saint. He stifled down his pain, gritting -his teeth, with fierce will-power. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Mattala asked him: -</p> - -<p> -“What are you trying to do?” -</p> - -<p> -He answered: -</p> - -<p> -“What Saint Gonselvo wishes me to do.” -</p> - -<p> -And he began to walk with the others. Dumbfounded -the people watched him pass. From time -to time, someone, on seeing the wound which was -bleeding and growing black, asked him: -</p> - -<p> -“L’Umma’, what is the matter?” -</p> - -<p> -He did not answer. He moved forward gravely, -measuring his steps by the rhythm of the music, -with his mind a little hazy, beneath the vast coverlets -that flapped in the wind and amongst the -swelling crowd. -</p> - -<p> -At a street corner he suddenly fell. The Saint -stopped an instant and swayed, in the centre of a -momentary confusion, then continued its progress. -Mattia Scafarola supplied the vacant place. Two -relations gathered up the swooning man and carried -him to a nearby house. -</p> - -<p> -Anna di Cenzo, who was an old woman, expert -at healing wounds, looked at the formless and -bloody member, and then shaking her head, said: -</p> - -<p> -“What can I do with it?” -</p> - -<p> -Her little skill was able to do nothing. -L’Ummalido controlled his feelings and said nothing. -He sat down and tranquilly contemplated his -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> -wound. The hand hung limp, forever useless, with -the bones ground to powder. -</p> - -<p> -Two or three aged farmers came to look at it. -Each, with a gesture or a word, expressed the -same thought. -</p> - -<p> -L’Ummalido asked: -</p> - -<p> -“Who carried the Saint in my place?” -</p> - -<p> -They answered: -</p> - -<p> -“Mattia Scafarola.” -</p> - -<p> -Again he asked: -</p> - -<p> -“What are they doing now?” -</p> - -<p> -They answered: -</p> - -<p> -“They are singing the vespers.” -</p> - -<p> -The farmers bid him good-bye and left for -vespers. A great chiming came from the mother -church. -</p> - -<p> -One of the relations placed near the wound a -bucket of cold water, saying: -</p> - -<p> -“Every little while put your hand in it. We -must go. Let us go and listen to the vespers.” -</p> - -<p> -L’Ummalido remained alone. The chiming increased, -while changing its metre. The light of -day began to wane. An olive tree, blown by the -wind, beat its branches against the low window. -</p> - -<p> -L’Ummalido began to bathe his hand little by -little. As the blood and concretions fell away, the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> -injury appeared even greater. L’Ummalido mused: -</p> - -<p> -“It is entirely useless! It is lost. Saint Gonselvo, -I offer it up to you.” -</p> - -<p> -He took a knife and went out. The streets -were deserted. All of the devotees were in the -church. Above the houses sped, like fugitive herds -of cattle, the violet clouds of a September sunset. -</p> - -<p> -In the church the united multitude sang in -measured intervals as if in chorus to the music of -the instruments. An intense heat emanated from -the human bodies and the burning tapers. The -silver head of Saint Gonselvo scintillated from on -high like a light house. L’Ummalido entered. To -the stupefaction of all, he walked up to the altar -and said, in a clear voice, while holding the knife -in his left hand: -</p> - -<p> -“Saint Gonselvo, I offer it up to you.” -</p> - -<p> -And he began to cut around the right wrist, -gently, in full sight of the horrified people. The -shapeless hand became detached little by little -amidst the blood. It swung an instant suspended -by the last filaments. Then it fell into a basin of -copper which held the money offerings at the feet -of the Patron Saint. -</p> - -<p> -L’Ummalido then raised the bloody stump and -repeated in a clear voice: -</p> - -<p> -“Saint Gonselvo, I offer it up to you.” -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale2">II -<span class="smaller"><i>THE COUNTESS OF AMALFI</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p> -When, one day, toward two o’clock in the -afternoon, Don Giovanni Ussorio was -about to set his foot on the threshold of Violetta -Kutufas’ house, Rosa Catana appeared at the -head of the stairs and announced in a lowered -voice, while she bent her head: -</p> - -<p> -“Don Giovà, the Signora has gone.” -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni, at this unexpected news, stood -dumbfounded, and remained thus for a moment -with his eyes bulging and his mouth wide open -While gazing upward as if awaiting further explanations. -Since Rosa stood silently at the top -of the stairs, twisting an edge of her apron with -her hands and dilly-dallying somewhat, he asked -at length: -</p> - -<p> -“But tell me why? But tell me why?” And he -mounted several steps while he kept repeating with -a slight stutter: -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“But why? But why?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don Giovà, what have I to tell you? Only -that she has gone.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don Giovà, I do not know, so there!” -</p> - -<p> -And Rosa took several steps on the landing-place -toward the door of the empty apartment. -She was rather a thin woman, with reddish hair, -and face liberally scattered with freckles. Her -large, ash-coloured eyes had nevertheless a singular -vitality. The excessive distance between her -nose and mouth gave to the lower part of her -face the appearance of a monkey. -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni pushed open the partly closed -door and passed through the first room, and then -the third; he walked around the entire apartment -with excited steps; he stopped at the little room, -set aside for the bath. The silence almost terrified -him; a heavy anxiety weighted down his heart. -</p> - -<p> -“It can’t be true! It can’t be true!” he murmured, -staring around confusedly. -</p> - -<p> -The furniture of the room was in its accustomed -place, but there was missing from the table under -the round mirror, the crystal phials, the tortoise-shell -combs, the boxes, the brushes, all of those -small objects that assist at the preparation of -feminine beauty. In a corner stood a species of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> -large, zinc kettle shaped like a guitar; and within -it sparkled water tinted a delicate pink from some -essence. The water exhaled subtle perfume that -blended in the air with the perfume of cyprus-powder. -The exhalation held in it some inherent -quality of sensuousness. -</p> - -<p> -“Rosa! Rosa!” Don Giovanni cried, in a -voice almost extinguished by the insurmountable -anxiety that he felt surging through him. -</p> - -<p> -The woman appeared. -</p> - -<p> -“Tell me how it happened! To what place has -she gone? And when did she go? And why?” -begged Don Giovanni, making with his mouth a -grimace both comic and childish, in order to restrain -his grief and force back the tears. -</p> - -<p> -He seized Rosa by both wrists, and thus incited -her to speak, to reveal. -</p> - -<p> -“I do not know, Signor,” she answered. “This -morning she put her clothes in her portmanteau, -sent for Leones’ carriage, and went away without -a word. What can you do about it? She will -return.” -</p> - -<p> -“Return-n-n!” sobbed Don Giovanni, raising -his eyes in which already the tears had started to -overflow. “Has she told you when? Speak!” -And this last cry was almost threatening and -rabid. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Eh?... to be sure she said to me, ‘Addio, -Rosa. We will never see each other again...! -But, after all ... who can tell! Everything is -possible.’” -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni sank dejectedly upon a chair at -these words, and set himself to weeping with so -much force of grief that the woman was almost -touched by it. -</p> - -<p> -“Now what are you doing, Don Giovà? Are -there not other women in this world? Don -Giovà, why do you worry about it...?” -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni did not hear. He persisted in -weeping like a child and hiding his face in Rosa -Catana’s apron; his whole body was rent with the -upheavals of his grief. -</p> - -<p> -“No, no, no.... I want Violetta! I want -Violetta!” he cried. -</p> - -<p> -At that stupid childishness Rosa could not refrain -from smiling. She gave assistance by stroking -the bald head of Don Giovanni and murmuring -words of consolation. -</p> - -<p> -“I will find Violetta for you; I will find her.... -So! be quiet! Do not weep any more, Don -Giovannino. The people passing can hear. Don’t -worry about it, now.” -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni, little by little, under the friendly -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> -caress, curbed his tears and wiped his eyes on -her apron. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh! oh! what a thing to happen!” he exclaimed, -after having remained for a moment with -his glance fixed on the zinc kettle, where the water -glittered now under a sunbeam. “Oh! oh! what -luck! Oh!” -</p> - -<p> -He took his head between his hands and swung -it back and forth two or three times, as do imprisoned -monkeys. -</p> - -<p> -“Now go, Don Giovanino, go!” Rosa Cantana -said, taking him gently by the arm and drawing -him along. -</p> - -<p> -In the little room the perfume seemed to increase. -Innumerable flies buzzed around a cup -where remained the residue of some coffee. The -reflection of the water trembled on the walls like -a subtle net of gold. -</p> - -<p> -“Leave everything just so!” pleaded Don -Giovanni of the woman, in a voice broken by badly -suppressed sobs. He descended the stairs, shaking -his head over his fate. His eyes were swollen -and red, bulging from their sockets like those of a -mongrel dog. -</p> - -<p> -His round body and prominent stomach overweighted -his two slightly inverted legs. Around -his bald skull ran a crown of long curling hair that -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> -seemed not to take root in the scalp but in the -shoulders, from which it climbed upward toward -the nape of the neck and the temples. He had -the habit of replacing from time to time with his -bejewelled hands, some disarranged tuft; the -jewels, precious and gaudy, sparkled even on his -thumb, and a cornelian button as large as a -strawberry fastened the bosom of his shirt over -the centre of his chest. -</p> - -<p> -When he reached the broad daylight of the -square, he experienced anew that unconquerable -confusion. Several cobblers were working near -by and eating figs. A caged blackbird was whistling -the hymn of Garibaldi, continuously, always -recommencing at the beginning with painful persistency. -</p> - -<p> -“At your service, Don Giovanni!” called Don -Domenico Oliva, as he passed, and he removed -his hat with an affable Neapolitan cordiality. -Stirred with curiosity by the strange expression -of the <i>Signor</i>, he repassed him in a short time and -resaluted him with greater liberality of gesture -and affability. He was a man of very long body -and very short legs; the habitual expression of -his mouth was involuntarily shaped for derision. -The people of Pescara called him “Culinterra.” -</p> - -<p> -“At your service!” he repeated. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni, in whom a venomous wrath was -beginning to ferment which the laughter of the -fig-eaters and the trills of the blackbird irritated, -at his second salute turned his back fiercely and -moved away, fully persuaded that those salutes -were meant for taunts. -</p> - -<p> -Don Domenico, astonished, followed him with -these words: -</p> - -<p> -“But, Don Giovà! ... are you angry ... -but....” -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni did not listen. He walked on -with quick steps toward his home. The fruit-sellers -and the blacksmiths along the road gazed -and could not understand the strange behaviour -of these two men, breathless and dripping with -perspiration under the noonday sun. -</p> - -<p> -Having arrived at his door, Don Giovanni, -scarcely stopping to knock, turned like a serpent, -yellow and green with rage, and cried: -</p> - -<p> -“Don Domè, oh Don Domè, I will hit you!” -With this threat, he entered his house and closed -the door violently behind him. -</p> - -<p> -Don Domenico, dumbfounded, stood for a time -speechless. Then he retraced his steps, wondering -what could account for this behaviour, when Matteo -Verdura, one of the fig-eaters, called: -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Come here! Come here! I have a great bit -of news to tell you.” -</p> - -<p> -“What news?” asked the man of the long spine, -as he approached. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you know about it?” -</p> - -<p> -“About what?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah! Ah! Then you haven’t heard yet?” -</p> - -<p> -“Heard what?” -</p> - -<p> -Verdura fell to laughing and the other cobblers -imitated him. Spontaneously all of them shook -with the same rasping and inharmonious mirth, -differing only with the personality of each man. -</p> - -<p> -“Buy three cents’ worth of figs and I will tell -you.” -</p> - -<p> -Don Domenico, who was niggardly, hesitated -slightly, but curiosity conquered him. -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, here it is.” -</p> - -<p> -Verdura called a woman and had her heap up -the fruit on a plate. Then he said: -</p> - -<p> -“That signora who lived up there, Donna Violetta, -do you remember...? That one of the -theatre, do you remember...?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well?” -</p> - -<p> -“She has made off this morning. Crash!” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed?” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed, Don Domè.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, now I understand!” exclaimed Don Domenico, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> -who was a subtle man and cruelly -malicious. -</p> - -<p> -Then, as he wished to revenge himself for the -offence given him by Don Giovanni and also to -make up for the three cents expended for the -news, he went immediately to the <i>casino</i> in order -to divulge the secret and to enlarge upon it. -</p> - -<p> -The “casino,” a kind of café, stood immersed -in shadow, and up from its tables sprinkled with -water, arose a singular odour of dust and musk. -There snored Doctor Punzoni, relaxed upon a -chair, with his arms dangling. The Baron Cappa, -an old soul, full of affection for lame dogs and -tender girls, nodded discreetly over a newspaper. -Don Ferdinando Giordano moved little flags over -a card representing the battlefields of the Franco-Prussian -war. Don Settimio de Marinis appraised -with Doctor Fiocca the works of Pietro -Mettastasio, not without many vocal explosions -and a certain flowery eloquency in the use of poetical -expressions. The notary Gaiulli, not knowing -with whom to play, shuffled the cards of his game -alone, and laid them out in a row on the table. -Don Paolo Seccia sauntered around the billiard -table with steps calculated to assist the digestion. -</p> - -<p> -Don Domenico Oliva entered with so much -vehemence, that all turned toward him except Doctor -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> -Panzoni, who still remained in the embrace -of slumber. -</p> - -<p> -“Have you heard? Have you heard?” -</p> - -<p> -Don Domenico was so anxious to tell the news, -and so breathless, that at first he stuttered without -making himself understood. All of these gentlemen -around him hung upon his words, anticipating -with delight any unusual occurrence that might -enliven their noonday chatter. -</p> - -<p> -Don Paolo Seccia, who was slightly deaf in -one ear, said impatiently, “But have they tied your -tongue, Don Domè?” -</p> - -<p> -Don Domenico recommenced his story at the -beginning, with more calmness and clearness. He -told everything; enlarged on the rage of Don Giovanni -Ussorio; added fantastic details; grew intoxicated -with his own words as he went on. -</p> - -<p> -“Now do you see? Now do you see?” -</p> - -<p> -Doctor Panzoni, at the noise, opened his eyelids, -rolling his huge pupils still dull with sleep -and still blowing through the monstrous hairs of -his nose, said or rather snorted nasally: -</p> - -<p> -“What has happened? What has happened?” -</p> - -<p> -And with much effort, bearing down on his -walking stick, he raised himself very slowly, and -joined the gathering in order to hear. -</p> - -<p> -The Baron Cappa now narrated, with much -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> -saliva in his mouth, a well-nourished story -apropos of Violetta Kutufa. From the pupils of -the eyes of his intent listeners gleams flashed in -turn. The greenish eyes of Don Palo Seccia -scintillated as if bathed in some exhilarating moisture. -At last the laughter burst out. -</p> - -<p> -But Doctor Panzoni, though standing, had -taken refuge again in slumber; since for him -sleep, irresistible as a disease, always had its seat -within his own nostrils. -</p> - -<p> -He remained with his snores, alone in the centre -of the room, his head upon his breast, while -the others scattered over the entire district to -carry the news from family to family. -</p> - -<p> -And the news, thus divulged, caused an uproar -in Pescara. Toward evening, with a fresh breeze -from the sea and a crescent moon, everybody frequented -the streets and squares. The hum of -voices was infinite. The name of Violetta Kutufa -was at every tongue’s end. Don Giovanni Ussorio -was not to be seen. -</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p> -Violetta Kutufa had come to Pescara in the -month of January, at the time of the Carnival, -with a company of singers. She spoke of being -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -a Greek from the Archipelago, of having sung -in a theatre at Corfu in the presence of the Greek -king, and of having made mad with love an -English admiral. She was a woman of plump -figure and very white skin. Her arms were unusually -round and full of small dimples that -became pink with every change of motion; and -these little dimples, together with her rings and -all of those other graces suitable for a youthful -person, helped to make her fleshiness singularly -pleasing, fresh and tantalising. The features of -her face were slightly vulgar, the eyes tan colour, -full of slothfulness; her lips large and flat as if -crushed. Her nose did not suggest Greek origin; -it was short, rather straight, and with large inflated -nostrils; her black hair was luxuriant. She -spoke with a soft accent, hesitating at each word, -smiling almost constantly. Her voice often became -unexpectedly harsh. -</p> - -<p> -When her company arrived, the Pescaresi were -frantic with expectation. The foreign singers -were lauded everywhere, for their gestures, their -gravity of movement, their costumes, and for -every other accomplishment. But the person upon -whom all attention centred was Violetta Kutufa. -</p> - -<p> -She wore a kind of dark bolero bordered with -fur and held together in front with gilt aiglettes; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> -on her head was a species of toque, all fur, and -worn a little to one side. She walked about alone, -stepping briskly, entered the shops, treated the -shop-keepers with a certain disdain, complained -of the mediocrity of their wares, left without making -a purchase, hummed with indifference. -</p> - -<p> -Everywhere, in the squares, on all of the walls -large hand-bills announced the performance of -“The Countess of Amalfi.” The name of Violetta -Kutufa was resplendent in vermilion letters. The -souls of the Pescaresi kindled. At length the -long looked-for evening arrived. -</p> - -<p> -The theatre was in a room of the old military -hospital, at the edge of the town near the sea. -The room was low, narrow, and as long as a -corridor; the stage, of wood with painted scenery, -arose a few hands’ breadths above the floor; along -the side walls was the gallery, consisting of boards -over saw-horses covered with tricoloured flags and -decorated with festoons. The curtain, a masterpiece -of Cucuzzitó, son of Cucuzzitó, depicted -tragedy, comedy and music, interwoven, like the -three Graces, and flitting over a bridge under -which passed the blue stream of Pescara. The -chairs for the theatre, taken from the churches, -occupied half of the pit. The benches, taken from -the schools, occupied the remaining space. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Toward seven in the evening, the village band -started its music on the square, played until it -had made the circuit of the town and at length -stopped in front of the theatre. The resounding -march inspired the souls of passers-by. The -women curbed their impatience within the folds -of their beautiful silk garments. The room filled -up rapidly. -</p> - -<p> -The gallery was radiant with a sparkling -aureole of married and unmarried women. Teodolinda -Pomarici, a sentimental, lymphatic elocutionist, -sat near Fermina Memura, called “The -Masculine.” The Fusilli girls, arrived from Castellamare, -tall maidens with very black eyes, all -clothed in a uniform, pink material, with hair -braided down their backs, laughed loudly and -gesticulated. Emilia d’Annunzio used her beautiful -lion-like eyes, with an air of infinite fatigue. -Marianina Cortese made signs with her fan to -Donna Rachele Profeta who sat in front of her. -Donna Rachele Bucci argued with Donna Rachele -Carabba on the subjects of speaking tables and -spiritualism. The school-mistresses Del Gado, -both clothed in changeable silk with mantillas of -most antique fashion, and with diverse coiffures -glittering with brass spangles, remained silent, -compunctious, almost stunned by the novelty of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> -this experience, almost repentant for having come -to so profane a spectacle. Costanza Lesbu -coughed continuously, shivering under her red -shawl, very pale, very blond and very thin. -</p> - -<p> -In the foremost chairs of the pit sat the wealthiest -citizens. Don Giovanni Ussorio was most -prominent because of his well-groomed appearance, -his splendid black and white checkered -trousers, his coat of shining wool, his quantity of -false jewelry on fingers and shirt-front. Don -Antonio Brattella, a member of the Areopagus of -Marseilles, a man exhaling importance from -every pore and especially from the lobe of his -left ear, which was as thick as a green apricot, recited -in a loud voice the lyric drama of Giovanni -Peruzzini, and his words as they fell from his -lips acquired a certain Ciceronian resonance. -The auditors, lolling in their chairs, stirred with -more or less impatience. Dr. Panzoni wrestled -all to no purpose with the wiles of sleep, and -from time to time made a noise that blended with -the “la” of the tuning instruments. -</p> - -<p> -“Pss! psss! pssss!” -</p> - -<p> -The silence in the theatre grew profound. At -the lifting of the curtain the stage was empty. -The sound of a Violoncello came from the wings. -Tilde appeared and sang. Afterwards Sertorio -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> -came out and sang. After him, a crowd of supernumeraries -and friends, entered and intoned a -song. After them, Tilde drew toward a window -and sang: -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“Oh how tedious the hours</p> -<p>To the desirous one...!”</p> -</div> - -<p> -In the audience a slight movement was perceptible, -since all felt a love duet to be imminent. -Tilde, in truth, was a first soprano, none too -young; she wore a blue costume, had a blond wig -that insufficiently covered her head, and her face, -whitened with powder, resembled a raw cutlet besprinkled -with flour and partially hidden behind -a hempen wig. -</p> - -<p> -Egidio came on. He was the young tenor. As -he had a chest singularly hollow and legs slightly -curved, he resembled a double-handed spoon upon -which hung a calf’s head, scraped and polished -like those which one sees at times over the butcher-shops. -He began: -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“Tilde! thy lips are mute,</p> -<p>Thy lowered glances dismay me,</p> -<p>Tell me, why you delay me?</p> -<p>Why do I see thy hand now</p> -<p>A-tremble? Why should that be?”</p> -</div> - -<p> -And Tilde, with great force of sentiment, -replied: -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“At such a solemn moment, how</p> -<p>Can you ask why of me?”</p> -</div> - -<p> -The duet increased in tenderness. The melody -of the cavalier Petrella delighted the ears of the -audience. All of the women leaned intently over -the rails of the gallery and their faces, throbbing -in the green reflection of the flags, were pallid. -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“Like a journey from paradise</p> -<p>Death will appear to us.”</p> -</div> - -<p> -Tilde appeared; and now entered, singing, the -Duke Carnioli, who was a man fat, fierce, and -long haired enough, to be suited to the part of -baritone. He sang with many flourishes, running -over the syllables, sometimes moreover boldly -suppressing. -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“Dost thou not know the conjugal chain</p> -<p>Is like lead on the feet?”</p> -</div> - -<p> -But, when in the song, he mentioned at length -the Countess of Amalfi, a long applause broke -from the audience. The Countess was desired, -demanded. -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni Ussorio asked of Don Antonio -Brattella: -</p> - -<p> -“When is she coming?” -</p> - -<p> -Don Antonio, in a lofty tone, replied: -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Oh! Dio mio, Don Giovà! Don’t you know? -In the second act! In the second act!” -</p> - -<p> -The speech of Sertorio was listened to with -half-impatience. The curtain fell in the midst of -weak applause. Thus began the triumphs of -Violetta Kutufa. A prolonged murmur ran -through the pit, through the gallery, and increased -when the audience heard the blows of the scene-shifters’ -hammers behind the curtain. That invisible -hustling increased their expectation. -</p> - -<p> -When the curtain went up a kind of spell held -the audience in its grip. The scenic effect was -marvellous. Three illuminated arches stretched -themselves in perspective, and the middle one -bordered a fantastic garden. -</p> - -<p> -Several pages were dispersed here and there, -and were bowing. The Countess of Amalfi, -clothed in red velvet, with her regal train, her -arms and shoulders bare, her face ruddy, entered -with agitated step and sang: -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“It was an evening of ravishment, which still</p> -<p>Fills my soul....”</p> -</div> - -<p> -Her voice was uneven, sometimes twanging, but -always powerful and penetrating. It produced -on the audience a singular effect after the whine -of Tilde. Immediately the audience was divided -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> -into two factions; the women were for Tilde, the -men for Leonora. -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“He who resists my charms</p> -<p>Has not easy matter...!”</p> -</div> - -<p> -Leonora possessed in her personality, in her -gestures, her movements, a sauciness that intoxicated -and kindled those unmarried men who were -accustomed to the flabby Venuses of the lanes of -Sant’ Agostino, and to those husbands who were -wearied with conjugal monotony. -</p> - -<p> -All gazed at the singer’s every motion, at her -large white shoulders, where, with the movements -of her round arms, two dimples tried to smile. -</p> - -<p> -At the end of her solo, applause broke forth -with a crash. Later, the swooning of the Countess, -her dissimulation before the Duke Carnioli -(the leader of the duet), the whole scene aroused -applause. The heat in the room had become intense; -in the galleries fans fluttered confusedly, -and among the fans the women’s faces appeared -and disappeared. -</p> - -<p> -When the Countess leaned against a column in -an attitude of sentimental contemplation, illuminated -by the calcium light, and Egidio sang his -gentle love song, Don Antonio Brattella called -loudly, “She is great!” -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni Ussorio, with a sudden impulse, -fell to clapping his hands alone. The others -shouted at him to be silent, as they wished to hear. -Don Giovanni became confused. -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“All is for love, everything speaks:</p> -<p>The moon, the zephyrs, the stars, the sea....”</p> -</div> - -<p> -The heads of the listeners swayed with the -rhythm of this melody of the Petrella style, even -though the voice of Egidio was indifferent; and -even though the light was glaring and yellowish -their eyes drank in the scene. But when, after -this last contrast of passion and seduction, the -Countess of Amalfi, walking toward the garden, -took up the melody alone, the melody that still -vibrated in the minds of all, the delight of the -audience had risen to such a height that many -raised their heads and inclined them slightly backward -as if to trill together with the siren, who -was now concealed among the flowers. She sang: -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“The bark is now ready ... ah, come beloved!</p> -<p>Is not Love calling ... to live is to love?”</p> -</div> - -<p> -At this climax, Violetta Kutufa made a complete -conquest of Don Giovanni Ussorio, who beside -himself, seized with a species of passionate, -musical madness, clamoured continuously: -</p> - -<p> -“Brava! Brava! Brava!” -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Don Paolo Seccia called loudly: -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, see here! see here! Ussorio has gone -mad for her!” -</p> - -<p> -All the women gazed at Ussorio, amazed and -confused. The school-mistresses Del Gado shook -their rosaries under their mantillas. Teodolinda -Pomarici remained ecstatic. Only the Fasilli -girls, in their red paint, preserved their vivacity, -and chattered, shaking their serpentine braids with -every movement. -</p> - -<p> -In the third act, neither the dying sighs of -Tilde, whom the women defended, nor the rebuffs -of Sertorio and Carnioli, nor the songs of the -chorus, nor the monologue of the melancholy Egidio, -nor the joyfulness of the dames and cavaliers, -held any power to distract the public from the -preceding voluptuousness. -</p> - -<p> -“Leonora! Leonora! Leonora!” they cried. -</p> - -<p> -Leonora reappeared on the arm of the Count -of Lara and descended from a pavilion. Thus -she reached the very culmination of her triumph. -</p> - -<p> -She wore now a violet gown, trimmed with -silver ribbons and enormous clasps. She turned -to the pit, while with her foot she gave a quick, -backward stroke to her train, and exposed in the -act her instep. -</p> - -<p> -Then, mingling with her words, a thousand -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> -charms and a thousand affectations, she sang half-jestingly, -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“I am the butterfly that sports within the flowers....”</p> -</div> - -<p> -The public grew almost delirious at this well-known -song. -</p> - -<p> -The Countess of Amalfi, on feeling mount up -to her the ardent admiration of the men, became -intoxicated, multiplied her seductive gestures, and -raised her voice to the highest altitude of which -she was capable. Her fleshly throat, uncovered, -marked with the necklace of Venus, shook with -trills. -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“I, the bee, who alone on the honey is nourished,</p> -<p>Am inebriate under the blue of the sky....”</p> -</div> - -<p> -Don Giovanni Ussorio stared with so much intensity, -that his eyes seemed to start from their -sockets. The Baron Cappa was equally enchanted. -Don Antonio Brattella, a member of -the Areopagus of Marseilles, swelled and -swelled, until at length burst fro-m him the exclamation: -</p> - -<p> -“Colossal!” -</p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p> -Thus, Violetta Kutufa made a conquest of Pescara. -For more than a month performances of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> -the opera of the Cavalier Petrella, continued with -ever increasing popularity. The theatre was always -full, even packed. Applause for Leonora -broke out furiously at the end of every song. A -singular phenomenon occurred; the entire population -of Pescara seemed seized with a species of -musical mania; every Pescarenican soul became inclosed -in the magic circle of one single melody, -that of the butterfly that sports among the flowers. -</p> - -<p> -In every corner, at every hour, in every way, -in every possible variation, on every instrument, -with an astounding persistency, that melody was -repeated; and the person of Violetta Kutufa became -the symbol of those musical strains, just as—God -pardon the comparison—the harmony of -the organ suggests the soul of paradise. -</p> - -<p> -The musical and lyrical comprehension, which -in the southern people is instinctive, expanded at -this time without limit. The street gamins whistled -everywhere; all the amateur musicians put -forth their efforts, Donna Lisitta Menuma played -the tune on the harpsichord from dawn until dusk, -Don Antonio Brattella played it on the flute, Don -Domenico Quaquino, on the clarionette, Don Giacomo -Palusci, the priest, on an old rococo spinet, -Don Vincenzio Rapagneta on his violoncello, Don -Vincenzio Ranieri on the trumpet, Don Nicola -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> -d’Annunzio, on his violin. From the towers of -Sant’ Agostino to the Arsenal, and from Pescheria -to Dogana the multifold sounds mingled together -and became a discord. In the early hours -of the afternoon the district had the appearance -of some large hospital for incurable madness. -Even the grinders sharpening knives on their -wheels tried to maintain a rhythm in the shriek of -the metal and the whetstone. -</p> - -<p> -As it was the time of the carnival, a public -festival was given in the theatre. Shrove Thursday, -at ten in the evening, the room blazed with -wax-candles, smelt strongly of myrtle and glittered -with mirrors. The masked revellers entered -in crowds. Punchinellos predominated. -From a platform enveloped in green draperies, -marked with constellations of stars of silver -paper, the orchestra began to play and Don -Giovanni Ussorio entered. -</p> - -<p> -He was dressed like a grandee of Spain, and -had the appearance of a very fat Count of Lara. -A blue cap with a long, white plume covered his -baldness, a short coat of red velvet garnished -with gold rippled over his shoulders. This costume -accentuated the prominence of his stomach -and the skinniness of his legs. His locks, shining -with cosmetic oils, resembled an artificial fringe -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> -bound around his cap, and they were blacker than -usual. -</p> - -<p> -An impertinent Punchinello, on passing him, -cried in a disguised voice: -</p> - -<p> -“How funny!” -</p> - -<p> -He made a gesture of horror, so clownish, at -this metamorphosis of “Don Giovanni,” that much -laughter burst forth from everyone in the vicinity. -La Cicarina, all red paint under the black hood -of her domino, like a beautiful flower of the flesh, -laughed sonorously, while she tripped with two -ragged harlequins. -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni, filled with anger, lost himself in -the crowd and sought Violetta Kutufa. The sarcasms -of the other revellers pursued and wounded -him. Suddenly he encountered another grandee -of Spain, another count of Lara. He recognised -Don Antonio Brattella and, at this, received a -thrust in the heart. Already, between these two -men, rivalry had broken loose. -</p> - -<p> -“How is the medlar?” Don Donato Brandimarte -screamed venomously, alluding to the fleshy -protuberance that the member of the Areopagus -of Marseilles had on his left ear. Don Giovanni -took a fierce pleasure in this insult. -</p> - -<p> -The rivals met face to face, scanned each -other from head to foot, and kept their respective -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> -stations, the one always slightly withdrawn -from the other, as they wandered through the -crowd. -</p> - -<p> -At eleven, an agitated flutter passed over the -crowd. Violetta Kutufa entered. She was -dressed in Mephistophelian costume, in a black -domino with long scarlet hood, and with a -scarlet mask over her face. The round, swan-like -chin, the thick red mouth, shone through her -thin veil. The eyes, lengthened and rendered -slightly oblique because of the mask, seemed to -smile. -</p> - -<p> -All instantaneously recognised her and almost -all made way for her; Don Antonio Brattella advanced -caressingly on one side. On the other -came Don Giovanni; Violetta Kutufa made a -hasty survey of the rings that adorned the fingers -of the latter, then took the arm of Brattella. -</p> - -<p> -She laughed and walked with a certain sprightly -undulation of the hips. Brattella, while talking -to her in his customary, silly, vainglorious manner, -called her “Contessa,” and interspersed their -conversation with the lyrical verses of Giovanni -Peruzzini. -</p> - -<p> -She laughed and leaned toward him, and -pressed his arm suggestively, since the weaknesses -of this ugly, vain man amused her. At a certain -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> -point, Brattella, when repeating the words of the -Count of Lara in the melodrama of Petrella, -said or rather sang submissively: -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“Shall I then hope?”</p> -</div> - -<p> -Violetta Kutufa answered in the words of -Leonora: -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“Who forbids you...? Good-bye.”</p> -</div> - -<p> -Then, seeing Don Giovanni not far away, she -detached herself from this bewitching chevalier, -and fastened upon the other, who already for -some time had pursued with eyes full of envy and -dislike, the windings of this couple through the -crowd of dancers. -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni trembled like a youth under the -glance of his first sweetheart. Then, seized with -a superabundant pride, he drew the opera singer -into the dance. He whirled breathlessly around, -with his nose against the woman’s chest, his cloak -floating out behind, his plume fluttering to the -breeze, streams of perspiration mixed with cosmetic -oils filtering down his temples. -</p> - -<p> -Exhausted, he stopped at length. He reeled -with giddiness. Two hands supported him and -a sneering voice whispered in his ear, “Don Giovà, -stop and recover your breath for a minute!” -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> -</p> - -<p> -The voice was that of Brattella, who in turn -drew the fair lady into the dance. He danced, -holding his left arm arched over his hips, beating -time with his feet, endeavouring to appear -as light as a feather, with motions meant to be -gracious, but instead so idiotic, and with grimaces -so monkey-like, that everywhere the laughter and -mockery of the Punchinellos began to pelt down -upon him. -</p> - -<p> -“Pay a cent to see it, gentlemen!” -</p> - -<p> -“Here is the bear of Poland that dances like -a Christian! Gaze on him, gentlemen!” -</p> - -<p> -“Have a medlar? Have a medlar?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, see! See! An orangoutang!” -</p> - -<p> -Don Antonio Brattella controlled himself with -much dignity, still continuing his dance. Other -couples wheeled around him. -</p> - -<p> -The room was filled with all kinds of people, -and in the midst of the confusion the candles -burned on, with their reddish flames lighting up -the festoons of immortelles. All of this fluttering -reflected itself in the mirrors. -</p> - -<p> -La Ciccarina, the daughter of Montagna, the -daughter of Suriano, the sisters Montarano, appeared -and disappeared, while enlivening the -crowd with the beams of their fresh country loveliness. -Donna Teodolinda Pomarici, tall and thin, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -clothed in blue satin, like a madonna, permitted -herself to be borne about in a state of transport -as her hair, loosened from its bands, waved upon -her shoulders. Costanzella Coppe, the most agile -and indefatigable of the dancers, and the palest, -flew from one extremity of the room to the other -in a flash; Amalia Solofra, with hair almost aflame -in colour, clothed like a rustic, her audacity almost -unequalled, had her silk waist supported by a single -band that outlined the connecting point of her -arm; and during the dance, at intervals, one could -see dark stains under her armpits. Amalia Gagliano, -a beautiful, blue-eyed creature, in the costume -of a sorceress, resembled an empty coffin -walking vertically. A species of intoxication held -sway over all these girls. They were fermenting -in the warm, dense air, like adulterated wine. -The laurel and the immortelles gave out a singular -odour, almost ecclesiastical. -</p> - -<p> -The music ceased, now all mounted the stairs -leading to the refreshment-room. Don Giovanni -Ussorio came to invite Violetta to the banquet. -Brattella, to show that he had reached a state -of close intimacy with the opera-singer, leaned -toward her and whispered something in her ear, -and then fell to laughing about it. Don Giovanni -no longer heeded his rival. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Come, Contessa,” he said, with much ceremony, -as he offered his arm. -</p> - -<p> -Violetta accepted. Both mounted the stairs -slowly with Don Antonio in the rear. -</p> - -<p> -“I am in love with you!” Don Giovanni hazarded, -trying to instil into his voice that note of -passion, rendered familiar to him by the principal -lover of a dramatic company of Chieti. -</p> - -<p> -Violetta Kutufa did not answer. She was amusing -herself by watching the concourse of people -near the booth of Andreuccio, who was distributing -refreshments, while shouting the prices in a -loud voice as if at a country-fair. Andreuccio -had an enormous head with polished top, a nose -that curved wondrously over the projection of -his lower lip; he resembled one of those large -paper lanterns in the shape of a human head. -The revellers ate and drank with a bestial greediness, -scattering on their clothes crumbs of sweet -pastry and drops of liquor. On seeing Don Giovanni, -Andreuccio cried, “Signor, at your service.” -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni had much wealth, and was a -widower without blood relations; for which reasons -everybody was desirous to be of service to -him and to flatter him. -</p> - -<p> -“A little supper,” he answered. “And take -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> -care...!” He made an expressive sign to indicate -that the thing must be excellent and rare. -</p> - -<p> -Violetta Kutufa sat down, and with a languid -effort removed her mask from her face and opened -her domino a little. Her face, surrounded by the -scarlet hood, and animated with warmth, seemed -even more saucy. Through the opening of the -domino one saw a species of pink tights that gave -a suggestion of living flesh. -</p> - -<p> -“Your health!” exclaimed Don Pompeo Nervi, -lingering before the well-furnished table, and seating -himself at length, allured by a plate of juicy -lobsters. -</p> - -<p> -Then Don Tito de Sieri arrived and took a -place without ceremony; also Don Giustino -Franco, together with Don Pasquale Virgilio and -Don Federico Sicoli appeared. The group of -guests at the table continued to swell. After much -tortuous tracing and retracing of his steps, even -Don Antonio Brattella came finally. These were, -for the most part, habitual guests of Don Giovanni; -they formed about him a kind of adulatory -court, gave their votes to him in the town -elections, laughed at every witticism of his, and -called him by way of nickname, “The Director.” -Don Giovanni introduced them all to Violetta -Kutufa. These parasites set themselves to eating -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> -with their voracious mouths bent over their plates. -</p> - -<p> -Every word, every sentence of Don Antonio -Brattella was listened to in hostile silence. Every -word, every sentence of Don Giovanni, was recognised -with complacent smiles and nods of the -head. Don Giovanni triumphed in the centre of -his court. Violetta Kutufa treated him with affability, -now that she felt the force of his gold; and -now, entirely free from her hood, with her locks -slightly dishevelled on forehead and neck, she indulged -in her usual playfulness, somewhat noisy -and childish. Around them the crowd moved -restlessly. -</p> - -<p> -In the centre of it, three or four harlequins -walked on the pavement with their hands and feet, -and rolled like great beetles. Amalia Solofra, -standing upon a chair, with her long arms bare to -the elbows, shook a tambourine. Around her a -couple hopped in rustic fashion, giving out short -cries, while a group of youths stood looking on -with eager eyes. At intervals, from the lower -room ascended the voice of Don Ferdinando Giordano, -who was ordering the quadrille with great -bravado. -</p> - -<p> -“Balance! Forward and back! Swing!” -</p> - -<p> -Little by little Violetta Kutufa’s table became -full to overflowing. Don Nereo Pica, Don Sebastiano -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> -Pica, Don Grisostomo Troilo and others of -this Ussorian court arrived; even to Don Cirillo -d’Amelio, Don Camillo d’Angelo and Don Rocco -Mattace. -</p> - -<p> -Many strangers stood about with stupid expressions, -and watched them eat. Women were -envious. From time to time a burst of rough -laughter arose from the table, and from time to -time corks popped and the foam of wine overflowed. -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni took pleasure in splashing his -guests, especially the bald ones, in order to make -Violetta laugh. The parasites raised their flushed -faces, and, still eating, smiled at their “Director” -from under the foamy rain. But Don Antonio -Brattella, having taken offence, made as if to go. -All of the feasters opposite him gave a low cry -like a bark. -</p> - -<p> -Violetta called, “Stay.” Don Antonio remained. -After this he gave a toast rhyming in -quintains. Don Federico Sicoli, half intoxicated, -gave a toast likewise in honour of Violetta and of -Don Giovanni, in which he went so far as to speak -of “divine shape” and “jolly times.” He declaimed -in a loud voice. He was a man long, thin -and greenish in colour. He lived by composing -verses of Saints’ days and laudations for all -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> -ecclesiastical festivals. Now, in the midst of his -drunkenness, the rhymes fell from his lips without -order, old rhymes and new ones. At a certain -point, no longer able to balance on his legs, he -bent like a candle softened by heat and was silent. -</p> - -<p> -Violetta Kutufa was overcome with laughter. -The crowd jammed around the table as if at a -spectacle. -</p> - -<p> -“Let us go,” Violetta said at this moment, putting -on her mask and hood. -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni, at the culmination of his amorous -enthusiasm, all red and perspiring, took her -arm. The parasites drank the last drop and then -arose confusedly behind the couple. -</p> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<p> -A few days after, Violetta Kutufa was inhabiting -an apartment in one of Don Giovanni’s houses -on the town square, and much hearsay floated -through Pescara. The company of singers departed -from Brindisi without the Countess of -Amalfi. In the solemn, quiet Lenten days, the -Pescaresi took a modest delight in gossip and -calumny. Every day a new tale made the circuit -of the city, and every day a new creation arose -from the popular imagination. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Violetta Kutufa’s house was in the neighbourhood -of Sant’ Agostino, opposite the Brina palace -and adjoining the palace of Memma. Every evening -the windows were illuminated and the curious -assembled beneath them. -</p> - -<p> -Violetta received visitors in a room tapestried -with French fabrics on which were depicted in -French style various mythological subjects. Two -round-bodied vases of the seventeenth century occupied -the two sides of the chimney-piece. A -yellow sofa extended along the opposite wall between -two curtains of similar material. On the -chimney-piece stood a plaster Venus and a small -Venus di Medici between two gilt candelabra. -On the shelves rested various porcelain vases, a -bunch of artificial flowers under a crystal globe, -a basket of wax fruit, a Swiss cottage, a block -of alum, several sea-shells and a cocoanut. -</p> - -<p> -At first her guests had been reluctant, through -a sense of modesty, to mount the stairs of the -opera singer. Later, little by little, they had overcome -all hesitation. Even the most serious men -made from time to time their appearance in the -<i>salon</i> of Violetta Kutufa; even men of family; -and they went there almost with trepidation, with -furtive delight, as if they were about to commit a -slight crime against their wives, as if they were -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> -about to enter a place of soothing perdition and -sin. They united in twos and threes, formed alliances -for greater security and justification, -laughed among themselves and nudged one another -in turn for encouragement. Then the -stream of light from the windows, the strains -from the piano, the song of the Countess of -Amalfi, the voices and applause of her guests excited -them. They were seized with a sudden enthusiasm, -threw out their chests, held up their -heads with youthful pride and mounted resolutely, -deciding that after all one had to taste of life and -cull opportunities for enjoyment. -</p> - -<p> -But Violetta’s receptions had an air of great -propriety, were almost formal. She welcomed -the new arrivals with courtesy and offered them -syrups in water and cordials. The newcomers -remained slightly astonished, did not know quite -how to behave, where to sit, what to say. The -conversations turned upon the weather, on political -news, on the substance of the Lenten sermons, -on other matter-of-fact and tedious topics. -</p> - -<p> -Don Giuseppe Postiglioni spoke of the pretensions -of the Prussian Prince Hohenzollern to -the throne of Spain; Don Antonio Brattella delighted -in discoursing on the immortality of the -soul and other inspiring matters. The doctrine -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> -of Brattella was stupendous. He spoke slowly -and emphatically, from time to time, pronouncing -a difficult word rapidly and eating up the syllables. -To quote an authentic report, one evening, -on taking a wand and bending it, he said: “Oh, -how fleible!” for flexible; another evening, pointing -to his plate and making excuses for not being -able to play the flute, he vouchsafed: “My -entire p-l-ate is inflamed!” and still another -evening, on indicating the shape of a vase, -he said that in order to make children take medicine, -it was necessary to scatter with some sweet -substance the <i>origin</i> of the glass. -</p> - -<p> -At intervals Don Paolo Seccia, incredulous soul, -on hearing singular matters recounted, jumped up -with: “But Don Antò, what do you mean to say?” -</p> - -<p> -Don Antonio repeated his remark with a hand -on his heart and a challenging expression, “My -testimony is ocular! Entirely ocular.” One evening -he came, walking with great effort and carefully, -painstakingly prepared to sit down; he had -“a cold, the length of the spine!” Another evening -he arrived with the right cheek slightly -bruised; he had fallen “underhand”; in other -words, he had slipped and struck his face on the -ground. Thus were the conversations of these -gatherings made up. Don Giovanni Ussorio, always -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> -present, had the airs of a proprietor; every -so often he approached Violetta with ostentation -and murmured something familiarly in her ear. -Long intervals of silence occurred, during which -Don Grisostomo Troilo blew his nose and Don -Federico Sicoli coughed like a consumptive, holding -both hands to his mouth and then shaking -them. -</p> - -<p> -The opera-singer revived the conversation with -accounts of her triumphs at Corfu, Ancona and -Bari. Little by little she grew animated, abandoned -herself to her imagination; with discreet -reserve she spoke of princely “<i>amours</i>,” of royal -favours, of romantic adventures; she thus evoked -all of those confused recollections of novels read -at other times, and trusted liberally to the credulity -of her listeners. Don Giovanni at these times -turned his eyes upon her full of inquietude, almost -bewildered; moreover experiencing a singular -irritation that had an indistinct resemblance to -jealousy. Violetta at length ended with a stupid -smile and the conversation languished anew. -</p> - -<p> -Then Violetta went to the piano and sang. All -listened with profound attention; at the end they -applauded. Then Don Brattella arose with the -flute. An immeasurable melancholy took hold of -his listeners at that sound, a kind of swooning of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> -body and soul. They rested with heads lowered -almost to their breasts in attitudes of sufferance. -At last all left, one after the other. As they took -the hand of Violetta a slight scent from the strong -perfume of musk remained on their fingers, and -this excited them further. Then, once more in -the street, they reunited in groups, holding loose -discourse. They grew inflamed, lowered their -voices and were silent if anyone drew near. Softly -they withdrew from beneath the Brina palace to -another part of the square. There they set themselves -to watching Violetta’s windows, still illuminated. -Across the panes passed indistinct -shadows; at a certain time the light disappeared, -traversed two or three rooms and stopped in the -last window. Shortly, a figure leaned out to close -the shutters. Those spying thought they recognised -in it the figure of Don Giovanni. They still -continued to discuss beneath the stars and from -time to time laughed, while giving one another little -nudges, and gesticulating. Don Antonio Brattella, -perhaps from the reflection of the city-lamps, -seemed a greenish colour. The parasites, little -by little in their discourse spit out a certain animosity -toward the opera-singer, who was plucking -so gracefully their lord of good times. They -feared lest those generous feasts might be in peril; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> -already Don Giovanni was more sparing of his -invitations. -</p> - -<p> -“It will be necessary to open the eyes of the -poor fellow. An adventuress! Bah! She is -capable of making him marry her. Why not? -And then what a scandal!” -</p> - -<p> -Don Pompeo Nervi, shaking his large calf’s -head, assented: -</p> - -<p> -“You are right! You are right! We must bethink -ourselves.” -</p> - -<p> -Don Nereo Pica, “The Cat,” proposed a way, -conjured up schemes; this pious man, accustomed -to the secret and laborious skirmishes of the -sacristy was crafty in the sowing of discord. -</p> - -<p> -Thus these complainers treated together and -their fat speeches only returned again into their -bitter mouths. As it was spring the foliage of -the public gardens smelt and trembled before them -with white blossoms and through the neighbouring -paths they saw, about to disappear, the figures of -loosely-dressed prostitutes. -</p> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<p> -When, therefore, Don Giovanni Ussorio, after -having heard from Rosa Catana of the departure -of Violetta Kutufa, re-entered his widower’s house -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> -and heard his parrot humming the air of the butterfly -and the bee, he was seized by a new and -more profound discouragement. -</p> - -<p> -In the entrance a girdle of sunlight penetrated -boldly and through the iron grating one saw the -tranquil garden full of heliotropes. His servant -slept upon a bench with a straw hat pulled down -over his face. -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni did not wake the servant. He -mounted the stairs with difficulty, his eyes fixed -upon the steps, pausing every now and then to -mutter: “Oh, what a thing to happen! Oh, oh, -what luck!” -</p> - -<p> -Having reached his room he threw himself upon -the bed and with his mouth against the pillows, -began again to weep. Later he arose; the silence -was deep and the trees of the garden as tall as the -window waved slightly in the stillness. There -was nothing of the unusual in the things about him; -he almost wondered at this. -</p> - -<p> -He fell to thinking and remained a long time -calling to mind the positions, the gestures, the -words, the slightest motions of the deserter. He -saw her form as clearly as if she were present. -At every recollection his grief increased until at -length a kind of dulness benumbed his mind. He -remained sitting on the bed, almost motionless, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> -his eyes red, his forehead blackened from the -colouring matter of his hair mixed with perspiration, -his face furrowed with wrinkles that had -suddenly become more evident; he had aged ten -years in an hour, a change both amusing and -pathetic. -</p> - -<p> -Don Grisostomo Troilo, who had heard the -news, arrived. He was a man of advanced age, -of short stature and with a round, swollen face -from which spread out sharp, thin whiskers, well -waxed and resembling the two wings of a bird. -He said: -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Giovà, what is the matter?” -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni did not answer, but shook his -shoulders as if to repel all sympathy. Don -Grisostomo then began to reprove him benevolently, -never speaking of Violetta Kutufa. -</p> - -<p> -In came Don Cirillo d’Amelio with Don Nereo -Pica. Both, on entering, showed almost an air of -triumph. -</p> - -<p> -“Now you have seen for yourself, Don Giovà! -We told you so! We told you so!” they cried. -Both had nasal voices and a cadence acquired -from the habit of singing with the organ, because -they belonged to the choir of the Holy Sacrament. -They began to attack the character of Violetta -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> -without mercy. She did this and that and the -other thing, they said. -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni, outraged, made from time to -time a motion as if he would not hear such slanders, -but the two continued. Now, also, Don -Pasquale Virgilio arrived, with Don Pompeo -Nervi, Don Federico Sicoli, Don Tito de Sieri; -almost all of the parasites came in a group. Supporting -one another they became ferocious. Did -he not know that Violetta Kutufa had abandoned -herself to Tom, Dick and Harry...? Indeed -she had! Indeed! They laid bare the exact -particulars, the exact places. -</p> - -<p> -Now Don Giovanni heard with eyes afire, -greedy to know, invaded by a terrible curiosity. -These revelations instead of disgusting him, fed -his desire. Violetta seemed to him more enticing, -even more beautiful; and he felt himself inwardly -bitten by a raging jealousy that blended with his -grief. Presently the woman appeared in his -mind’s eye associated with a certain soft relaxation. -That picture made him giddy. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh Dio! Oh Dio! Oh! Oh!” He commenced -to weep again. Those present looked at one another -and restrained their laughter. In truth the -grief of that man; fleshy, bald, deformed, expressed -itself so ridiculously that it seemed unreal. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Go away now!” Don Giovanni blubbered -through his tears. -</p> - -<p> -Don Grisostomo Troilo set the example; the -others followed him and chattered as they passed -down the stairs. -</p> - -<p> -Toward evening the prostrated man revived -little by little. A woman’s voice called at his -door: “May I come in, Don Giovanni?” -</p> - -<p> -He recognised Rosa Catana’s voice and experienced -suddenly an instinctive joy. He ran to -let her in. Rosa Catana appeared in the dusk of -the room. -</p> - -<p> -“Come in! Come in!” he cried. He made her -sit down beside him, had her talk to him, asked -her a thousand questions. He seemed to suffer -less on hearing that familiar voice in which, under -the spell of an illusion, he found some quality of -Violetta’s voice. He took her hands and cried: -</p> - -<p> -“You helped her to dress! Did you not?” -</p> - -<p> -He caressed those rugged hands, closing his -eyes and wandering slightly in his mind on the -subject of those abundant, unbound locks that so -many times he had touched with his hands. Rosa -at first did not understand. She believed this to -be some sudden passion of Don Giovanni, and -withdrew her hands gently, while she spoke in an -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> -ambiguous way and laughed. But Don Giovanni -murmured: -</p> - -<p> -“No, no!... Stay! You combed her, did -you not? You bathed her, did you not?” -</p> - -<p> -He fell to kissing Rosa’s hands, those hands -that had combed, bathed and clothed Violetta. He -stammered, while kissing them, composed verses -so strange that Rosa could scarcely refrain from -laughter. But at last she understood and with -feminine perception forced herself to remain serious, -while she summed up the advantages that -might ensue from this foolish comedy. She grew -docile, let him caress her, let him call her Violetta, -made use of all that experience acquired from -peeping through key-holes many times at her mistress’s -door; she even sought to make her voice -more sweet. -</p> - -<p> -In the room one could scarcely see them. -Through the open windows a red reflection entered -and the trees in the garden, almost black, -twisted and turned in the wind. From the sloughs -around the arsenal came the hoarse croak of the -frogs. The noises of the city street were indistinct. -</p> - -<p> -Don Giovanni drew the woman to his knees, -and, completely confused as if he had swallowed -some very’ strong liquor, murmured a thousand -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> -childish nothings and babbled on without end, -drawing her face close to his. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, darling little Violetta!” he whispered. -“Sweetheart! Don’t go away, dear...! If -you go away your Nini will die, Poor Nini...! -Ban-ban-ban-bannn!” -</p> - -<p> -Thus he continued stupidly, as he had done before -with the opera-singer. Rosa Catana patiently -offered him slight caresses, as if he were a very -sick, perverted child; she took his head and -pressed it against her shoulder, kissed his swollen, -weeping eyes, stroked his bald crown, rearranged -his oiled locks. -</p> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<p> -Thus, Rosa Catana, little by little, earned her -inheritance from Don Giovanni Ussorio, who, in -the March of 1871, died of paralysis. -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale3">III -<span class="smaller"><i>THE RETURN OF TURLENDANA</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<p> -The group was walking along the seashore. -Down the hills and over the country Spring -was coming again. The humble strip of land -bordering the sea was already green; the various -fields were quite distinctly marked by the springing -vegetation, and every mound was crowned with -budding trees. The north wind shook these trees, -and its breath caused many flowers to fall. At a -short distance the heights seemed to be covered -with a colour between pink and violet; for an instant -the view seemed to tremble and grow pale -like a ripple veiling the clear surface of a pool, or -like a faded painting. -</p> - -<p> -The sea stretched out its broad expanse serenely -along the coast, bathed by the moonlight, and -toward the north taking on the hue of a turquois -of Persia, broken here and there by the darker tint -of the currents winding over its surface. -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana, who had lost the recollection of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> -these places through a long absence, and who in -his long peregrinations had forgotten the sentiments -of his native land, was striding along with -the tired, regular step of haste, looking neither -backward nor around him. -</p> - -<p> -When the camel would stop at a tuft of wild -grass, Turlendana would utter a brief, hoarse cry -of incitement. The huge reddish quadruped would -slowly raise his head, chewing the morsel heavily -between his jaws. -</p> - -<p> -“Hu, Barbara!” -</p> - -<p> -The she-ass, the little snowy white Susanna, protesting -against the tormenting of the monkey, from -time to time would bray lamentingly, asking to be -freed of her rider. -</p> - -<p> -But the restless Zavali gave her no peace; as -though in a frenzy, with quick, short gestures of -wrath, she would run over the back of the beast, -jump playfully on her head, get hold of her large -ears; then would lift her tail and shake the hairs, -hold it up and look through the hairs, scratch poor -Susanna viciously with her nails, then lift her hands -to her mouth and move her jaws as though chewing, -grimacing frightfully as she did so. Then -suddenly, she would jump back to her seat, holding -in her hands her foot, twisted like the root of -a bush, and sit with her orange coloured eyes, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> -filled with wonder and stupor, fixed on the sea, -while wrinkles would appear on her head, and -her thin pinkish ears would tremble nervously. -Without warning she would make a malicious -gesture, and recommence her play. -</p> - -<p> -“Hu, Barbara!” -</p> - -<p> -The camel heard and started to walk again. -</p> - -<p> -When the group reached the willow tree woods, -at the mouth of the River Pescara, figures could be -seen upon its right bank, above the masts of the -ships anchored in the docks of Bandiera. Turlendana -stopped to get a drink of water from the -river. -</p> - -<p> -The river of his native place carried to him the -peaceful air of the sea. Its banks, covered with -fluvial plains, lay stretched out as though resting -from their recent work of fecundity. The silence -was profound. The cobwebs shone tranquilly in -the sun like mirrors framed by the crystal of the -sea. The seaweed bent in the wind, showing its -green or white sides. -</p> - -<p> -“Pescara!” said Turlendana, with an accent of -curiosity and recognition, stopping still to look at -the view. -</p> - -<p> -Then, going down to the shore where the gravel -was clean, he kneeled down to drink, carrying the -water to his mouth in his curled up palm. The -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -camel, bending his long neck, drank with slow, -regular draughts. The she-ass, too, drank from -the stream, while the monkey, imitating the man, -made a cup of her hands, which were violet -coloured like unripe India figs. -</p> - -<p> -“Hu, Barbara!” The camel heard and ceased -to drink. The water dripped unheeded from his -mouth onto his chest; his white gums and yellowish -teeth showed between his open lips. -</p> - -<p> -Through the path marked across the wood by -the people of the sea, the little group proceeded -on its way. The sun was setting when they reached -the Arsenale of Rampigna. Turlendana asked of -a sailor who was walking beside the brick parapet: -</p> - -<p> -“Is that Pescara?” -</p> - -<p> -The sailor, astonished at the sight of the strange -beasts, answered Turlendana’s question: -</p> - -<p> -“It is that,” and left his work to follow the -stranger. -</p> - -<p> -The sailor was soon joined by others. Soon a -crowd of curious people had gathered and were -following Turlendana, who went calmly on his -way, unmindful of the comments of the people. -When they reached the boat-bridge, the camel refused -to pass over. -</p> - -<p> -“Hu, Barbara! Hu, hu!” Turlendana cried impatiently, -urging him on, and shaking the rope of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -the halter by which he led the animal. But -Barbara obstinately lay down upon the ground, -and stretched his head out in the dust very comfortable, -showing no intention of moving. -</p> - -<p> -The people jesting gathered about, having overcome -their first amazement, and cried in a chorus: -</p> - -<p> -“Barbara! Barbara!” -</p> - -<p> -As they were somewhat familiar with monkeys, -having seen some which the sailors had brought -home, together with parrots, from their long -cruises, they were teasing Zavali in a thousand -different ways, handing her large greenish almonds, -which the monkey would open, gluttonously -devouring the sweet fresh meat. -</p> - -<p> -After much urging and persistent shouting, -Turlendana succeeded in conquering the stubbornness -of the camel, and that enormous architecture -of bones and skin rose staggering to his feet in -the midst of the instigating crowd. -</p> - -<p> -From all directions soldiers and sailors flocked -over the boat bridge to witness the spectacle. Far -behind the mountain of Gran Sasso the setting sun -irradiated the spring sky with a vivid rosy light, -and from the damp earth, the water of the river, -the seas, and the ponds, the moisture had arisen. -A rosy glow tinted the houses, the sails, the masts, -the plants, and the whole landscape, and the figures -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> -of the people, acquiring a sort of transparency, -grew obscure, the lines of their contour wavering -in the fading light. -</p> - -<p> -Under the weight of the caravan the bridge -creaked on its tar-smeared boats like a very large -floating lighter. Turlendana, halting in the middle -of the bridge, brought the camel also to a stop; -stretching high above the heads of the crowd, it -stood breathing against the wind, slowly moving -its head like a fictitious serpent covered with hair. -</p> - -<p> -The name of the beast had spread among the -curious people, and all of them, from an innate -love of sensation, and filled with the exuberance -of spirits inspired by the sweetness of the sunset -and the season of the year, cried out gleefully: -</p> - -<p> -“Barbara! Barbara!” At the sound of this -applauding cry and the well-meant clamour of the -crowd, Turlendana, who was leaning against the -chest of his camel, felt a kindly emotion of satisfaction -spring up in his heart. -</p> - -<p> -The she-ass suddenly began to bray with such -high and discordant variety of notes, and with -such sighing passion that a spontaneous burst of -merriment ran through the crowd. -</p> - -<p> -The fresh, happy laughter spread from one end -of the bridge to the other like the roar of water -falling over the stones of a cataract. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Then Turlendana, unknown to any of the -crowd, began to make his way through the throng. -When he was outside the gates of the city, where -the women carrying reed baskets were selling fresh -fish, Binchi-Banche, a little man with a yellow face, -drawn up like a juiceless lemon, pushed to the -front, and as was his custom with all strangers -who happened to come to the place, offered his -services in finding a lodging. -</p> - -<p> -Pointing to Barbara, he asked first: -</p> - -<p> -“Is he ferocious?” -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana, smiling, answered, “No.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” Binchi-Banche went on, reassured, -“there is the house of Rosa Schiavona.” Both -turned towards the Pescaria, and then towards -Sant’ Agostino, followed by the crowd. From -windows and balconies women and children leaned -over, gazing in astonishment at the passing camel, -admiring the grace of the white ass, and laughing -at the comic performances of Zavali. -</p> - -<p> -At one place, Barbara, seeing a bit of green -hanging from a low loggia, stretched out his neck -and, grasping it with his lips, tore it down. A cry -of terror broke forth from the women who were -leaning over the loggia, and the cry spread to -other loggias. The people from the river laughed -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> -loudly, crying out, as though it were the carnival -season and they were behind masks: -</p> - -<p> -“Hurrah! Hurrah!” -</p> - -<p> -They were intoxicated by the novelty of the -spectacle, and by the invigourating spring air. In -front of the house of Rosa Schiavona, in the neighbourhood -of Portasale, Binchi-Banche made a -sign to stop. -</p> - -<p> -“This is the place,” he said. -</p> - -<p> -It was a very humble one-story house with one -row of windows, and the lower walls were covered -with inscriptions and ugly figures. A row of bats -pinned on the arch formed an ornament, and a -lantern covered with reddish paper hung under -the window. -</p> - -<p> -This place was the abode of a sort of adventurous, -roving people. They slept mixed together, -the big and corpulent truckman, Letto -Manoppello, the gipsies of Sulmona, horse-traders, -boiler-menders, turners of Bucchianico, -women of the city of Sant’ Angelo, women of -wicked lives, the bag-pipers of Atina, mountaineers, -bear-tamers, charlatans, pretended mendicants, -thieves, and fortune-tellers. Binchi-Banche -acted as a go-between for all that rabble, -and was a great protégé of the house of Rosa -Schiavona. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> -</p> - -<p> -When the latter heard the noise of the newcomers, -she came out upon the threshold. She -looked like a being generated by a dwarf and a -sow. Very diffidently she put the question: -</p> - -<p> -“What is the matter?” -</p> - -<p> -“There is a fellow here who wants lodging for -his beasts, Donna Rosa.” -</p> - -<p> -“How many beasts?” -</p> - -<p> -“Three, as you see, Donna Rosa—a monkey, -an ass, and a camel.” -</p> - -<p> -The crowd was paying no attention to the -dialogue. Some of them were exciting Zavali, -others were feeling of Barbara’s legs, commenting -on the callous spots on his knees and chest. Two -guards of the salt store-houses, who had travelled -to the sea-ports of Asia Minor, were telling in a -loud voice of the wonderful properties of the -camel, talking confusedly of having seen some of -them dancing, while carrying upon their necks a lot -of half-naked musicians and women of the Orient. -The listeners, greedy to hear these marvellous -tales, cried: -</p> - -<p> -“Tell us some more! Tell us some more!” -They stood around the story-tellers in attentive -silence, listening with dilated eyes. -</p> - -<p> -Then one of the guards, an old man whose eyelids -were drawn up by the wind of the sea, began -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -to tell of the Asiatic countries, and as he went on, -his imagination became excited by the stories which -he told, and his tales grew more wonderful. -</p> - -<p> -A sort of mysterious softness seemed to penetrate -the sunset. In the minds of the listeners, the -lands which were described to them rose vividly -before their imaginations in all their strange -splendour. Across the arch of the Porta, which -was already in shadow, could be seen boats loaded -with salt rocking upon the river, the salt seeming -to absorb all the light of the evening, giving the -boats the appearance of palaces of precious -crystals. Through the greenish tinted heavens -rose the crescent of the moon. -</p> - -<p> -“Tell us some more! Tell us some more!” the -younger of those assembled were crying. -</p> - -<p> -In the meanwhile Turlendana had put his beasts -under cover and supplied them with food. This -being done, he had again set forth with Binchi-Banche, -while the people remained gathered about -the door of the barn where the head of the camel -appeared and disappeared behind the rock gratings. -</p> - -<p> -On the way Turlendana asked: -</p> - -<p> -“Are there any drinking places here?” -</p> - -<p> -Binchi-Banche answered promptly: -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, sir, there are.” Then, lifting his big black -hands he counted off on his fingers: -</p> - -<p> -“The Inn of Speranza, the Inn of Buono, the -Inn of Assau, the Inn of Zarricante, the Inn of the -Blind Woman of Turlendana....” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah!” exclaimed the other calmly. -</p> - -<p> -Binchi-Banche raised his big, sharp, greenish -eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“You have been here before, sir?” -</p> - -<p> -Then, with the native loquacity of the Pescarese -he went on without waiting for an answer: -</p> - -<p> -“The Inn of the Blind Woman is large, and -they sell there the best wine. The so-called Blind -Woman is a woman who has had four husbands....” -</p> - -<p> -He stopped to laugh, his yellowish face -wrinkling into little folds as he did so. -</p> - -<p> -“The first husband was Turlendana, a sailor on -board the ships of the King of Naples, sailing -from India to France, to Spain, and even as far -as America. He was lost at sea, no one knows -where, for the ship disappeared and nothing has -ever been heard from it since. That was about -thirty years ago. Turlendana had the strength of -Samson; he could pull up an anchor with one -finger ... poor fellow! He who goes to sea is -apt to have such an end.” -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana was listening quietly. -</p> - -<p> -“The second husband, whom she married after -five years of widowhood, was from Ortona, a son -of Ferrante, a damned soul, who was in conspiracy -with smugglers in Napoleon’s time, during the war -with England. They smuggled goods from Francavilla -up to Silvi and Montesilvano—sugar and -coffee from the English boats. In the neighbourhood -of Silvi was a tower called ‘The Tower of -Saracini,’ from which the signals were given. As -the patrol passed, ‘Plon, plon, plon, plon!’ came -out from behind the trees....” Binchi-Banche’s -face lighted up at the recollection of those times, -and he quite lost himself in the pleasure of describing -minutely all those clandestine operations, -his expressive gestures and exclamations adding -interest to the tale. -</p> - -<p> -His small body would draw up and stretch out -to its full height as he proceeded. -</p> - -<p> -“At last the son of Ferrante was, while walking -along the coast one night, shot in the back by a -soldier of Murat, and killed. -</p> - -<p> -“The third husband was Titino Passacantando, -who died in his bed of a pernicious disease. -</p> - -<p> -“The fourth still lives, and is called Verdura, -a good fellow who does not adulterate the wine of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> -the inn. Now, you will have a chance to try -some.” -</p> - -<p> -When they reached the much praised inn, they -separated. -</p> - -<p> -“Good night, sir!” -</p> - -<p> -“Good night!” -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana entered unconcernedly, unmindful -of the curious attention of the drinkers sitting beside -the long tables. Having asked for something -to eat, he was conducted to an upper room where -the tables were set ready for supper. -</p> - -<p> -None of the regular boarders of the place were -yet in the room. Turlendana sat down and began -to eat, taking great mouthfuls without pausing, -his head bent over his plate, like a famished -person. He was almost wholly bald, a deep red -scar furrowed his face from forehead to cheek, -his thick greyish beard extended to his protruding -cheek bones, his skin, dark, dried, rough, worn by -water and sun and wrinkled by pain, seemed not -to preserve any human semblance, his eyes stared -into the distance as if petrified by impassivity. -</p> - -<p> -Verdura, inquisitive, sat opposite him, staring -at the stranger. He was somewhat flushed, his -face was of a reddish colour veined with vermilion -like the gall of oxen. At last he cried: -</p> - -<p> -“Where do you come from?” -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana, without raising his head, replied -simply: -</p> - -<p> -“I come from far away.” -</p> - -<p> -“And where do you go?” pursued Verdura. -</p> - -<p> -“I remain here.” -</p> - -<p> -Verdura, amazed, was silent. -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana continued to lift the fishes from his -plate, one after another, taking off their heads and -tails, and devouring them, chewing them up, bones -and all. After every two or three fishes he drank -a draught of wine. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you know anybody here?” Verdura asked -with eager curiosity. -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps,” replied the other laconically. -</p> - -<p> -Baffled by the brevity of his interlocutor, the -wine man grew silent again. Above the uproar -of the drinkers below, Turlendana’s slow and -laboured mastication could be heard. Presently -Verdura again Ventured to open his mouth. -</p> - -<p> -“In what countries is the camel found? Are -those two humps natural? Can such a great, -strong beast ever be tamed?” -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana allowed him to go on without replying. -</p> - -<p> -“Your name, Mister?” -</p> - -<p> -The man to whom this question was put raised -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> -his head from his plate, and answered simply, as -before: -</p> - -<p> -“I am called Turlendana.” -</p> - -<p> -“What?” -</p> - -<p> -“Turlendana.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah!” -</p> - -<p> -The amazement of the inn keeper was unbounded. -A sort of a vague terror shook his -innermost soul. -</p> - -<p> -“What? Turlendana of this place?” -</p> - -<p> -“Of this place.” -</p> - -<p> -Verdura’s big azure eyes dilated as he stared -at the man. -</p> - -<p> -“Then you are not dead?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I am not dead.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you are the husband of Rosalba Catena?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am the husband of Rosalba Catena.” -</p> - -<p> -“And now,” exclaimed Verdura, with a gesture -of perplexity, “we are two husbands!” -</p> - -<p> -“We are two!” -</p> - -<p> -They remained silent for an instant. Turlendana -was chewing the last bit of bread tranquilly, -and through the quiet room you could hear his -teeth crunching on it. Either from a natural -benignant simplicity or from a glorious fatuity, -Verdura was struck only by the singularity of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> -case. A sudden impulse of merriment overtook -him, bubbling out spontaneously: -</p> - -<p> -“Let us go to Rosalba! Let us go! Let us go!” -</p> - -<p> -Taking the newcomer by the arm, he conducted -him through the group of drinkers, waving his -arms, and crying out: -</p> - -<p> -“Here is Turlendana, Turlendana the sailor! -The husband of my wife! Turlendana, who is not -dead! Here is Turlendana! Here is Turlendana!” -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale4">IV -<span class="smaller"><i>TURLENDANA DRUNK</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<p> -The last glass had been drunk, and two -o’clock in the morning was about to strike -from the tower clock of the City Hall. -</p> - -<p> -Said Biagio Quaglia, his voice thick with wine, -as the strokes sounded through the silence of the -night filled with clear moonlight: -</p> - -<p> -“Well! Isn’t it about time for us to go?” -</p> - -<p> -Ciavola, stretched half under the bench, moved -his long runner’s legs from time to time, mumbling -about clandestine hunts-in the forbidden grounds -of the Marquis of Pescara, as the taste of wild -hare came up in his throat, and the wind brought -to his nostrils the resinous odour of the pines of -the sea grove. -</p> - -<p> -Said Biagio Quaglia, giving the blond hunter a -kick, and making a motion to rise: -</p> - -<p> -“Let us go.” -</p> - -<p> -Ciavola with an effort rose, swaying uncertainly, -thin and slender like a hunting hound. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Let us go, as they are pursuing us,” he answered, -raising his hand high in a motion of assent, -thinking perhaps of the passage of birds -through the air. -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana also moved, and seeing behind him -the wine woman, Zarricante, with her flushed raw -cheeks and her protruding chest, he tried to embrace -her. But Zarricante fled from his embrace, -hurling at him words of abuse. -</p> - -<p> -On the doorsill, Turlendana asked his friends -for their company and support through a part of -the road. But Biagio Quaglia and Ciavola, who -were indeed a fine pair, turned their backs on him -jestingly, and went away in the luminous moonlight. -</p> - -<p> -Then Turlendana stopped to look at the moon, -which was round and red as the face of a friar. -Everything around was silent and the rows of -houses reflected the white light of the moon. A -cat was mewing this May night upon a door step. -The man, in his intoxicated state, feeling a peculiarly -tender inclination, put out his hand slowly -and uncertainly to caress the animal, but the beast, -being somewhat wild, took a jump and disappeared. -</p> - -<p> -Seeing a stray dog approaching, he attempted -to pour out upon it the wealth of his loving impulses; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> -the dog, however, paid no attention to his -calls, and disappeared around the corner of a cross -street, gnawing a bone. The noise of his teeth -could be heard plainly through the silence of the -night. -</p> - -<p> -Soon after, the door of the inn was closed and -Turlendana was left-standing alone under the full -moon, obscured by the shadows of rolling clouds. -His attention was struck by the rapid moving of -all surrounding objects. Everything fled away -from him. What had he done that they should -fly away? -</p> - -<p> -With unsteady steps, he moved towards the -river. The thought of that universal flight as he -moved along, occupied profoundly his brain, -changed as it was by the fumes of the wine. He -met two other street dogs, and as an experiment, -approached them, but they too slunk away with -their tails between their legs, keeping close to the -wall and when they had gone some little distance, -they began to bark. Suddenly, from every direction, -from Bagno da Sant’ Agostino, from Arsenale, -from Pescheria, from all the lurid and -obscure places around, the roving dogs ran up, as -though in answer to a trumpet call to battle and -the aggressive chorus of the famishing tribe -ascended to the moon. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana was stupefied, while a sort of vague -uneasiness awoke in his soul and he went on his -way a little more quickly, stumbling over the rough -places in the ground. When he reached the corner -of the coopers, where the large barrels of Zazetta -were piled in whitish heaps like monuments, he -heard the heavy, regular breathing of a beast. As -the impression of the hostility of all beasts had -taken a hold on him, with the obstinacy of a -drunken man, he moved in the direction of the -sound, that he might make another experiment. -</p> - -<p> -Within a low barn the three old horses of -Michelangelo were breathing with difficulty above -their manger. They were decrepit beasts who -had worn out their lives dragging through the road -of Chieti, twice every day, a huge stage-coach -filled with merchants and merchandise. Under -their brown hair, worn off in places by the rubbing -of the harness, their ribs protruded like so many -dried shingles through a ruined roof. Their front -legs were so bent that their knees were scarcely -perceptible, their backs were ragged like the teeth -of a saw, and their skinny necks, upon which -scarcely a vestige of mane was left, drooped -towards the ground. -</p> - -<p> -A wooden railing inside barred the door. -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana began encouragingly: -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Ush, ush, ush! Ush, ush, ush!” -</p> - -<p> -The horses did not move, but breathed together -in a human way. The outlines of their bodies appeared -dim and confused through the bluish -shadow within the barn, and the exhalations of -their breath blent with that of the manure. -</p> - -<p> -“Ush, ush, ush!” pursued Turlendana in a -lamenting tone, as when he used to urge Barbara -to drink. Again the horses did not stir, and again: -</p> - -<p> -“Ush, ush, ush! Ush, ush, ush!” One of the -horses turned and placed his big deformed head -upon the railing, looking with eyes which seemed -in the moonlight as though filled with troubled -water. The lower skin of the jaw hung flaccid, -disclosing the gums. At every breath the nostrils -palpitated, emitting moist breath, the nostrils closing -at times, and opening again to give forth a -little cloud of air bubbles like yeast in a state of -fermentation. -</p> - -<p> -At the sight of that senile head, the drunken -man came to his senses. Why had he filled himself -with wine, he, usually so sober? For a moment, -in the midst of his forgetful drowsiness, the -shape of his dying camel reappeared before his -eyes, lying on the ground with his long inert neck -stretched out on the straw, his whole body shaken -from time to time by coughing, while with every -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> -moan the bloated stomach produced a sound such -as issues from a barrel half filled with water. -</p> - -<p> -A wave of pity and compassion swept over the -man, as before him rose this vision of the agony -of the camel, shaken by strange, hoarse sobs which -brought forth a moan from the enormous dying -carcass, the painful movements of the neck, rising -for an instant to fall back again heavily upon the -straw with a deep, indistinct sound, the legs moving -as if trying to run, the tense tremor of the -ears, and the fixity of the eyeballs, from which -the sight seemed to have departed before the rest -of the faculties. All this suffering came back -clearly to his memory, vivid in its almost human -misery. -</p> - -<p> -He leaned against the railing and opened his -mouth mechanically to again speak to Michelangelo’s -horse: -</p> - -<p> -“Ush, ush, ush! Ush, ush, ush!” Then Michelangelo, -who from his bed had heard the disturbance, -jumped to the window above and began to -swear violently at the troublesome disturber of -his night’s rest. -</p> - -<p> -“You damned rascal! Go and drown yourself -in the Pescara River! Go away from here. Go, -or I will get a gun! You rascal, to come and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> -wake up sleeping people! You drunkard, go on; -go away!” -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana, staggering, started again towards -the river. When at the cross-roads by the fruit -market, he saw a group of dogs in a loving assembly. -As the man approached, the group of -canines dispersed, running towards Bagno. From -the alley of Gesidio came out another horde of -dogs, who set off in the direction of Bastioni. -</p> - -<p> -All of the country of Pescara, bathed in the -sweet light of the full moon of the springtime, -was the scene of the fights of amorous canines. -The mastiff of Madrigale, chained to watch over -a slaughtered ox, occasionally made his deep voice -heard, and was answered by a chorus of other -voices. Occasionally a solitary dog would pass -on the run to the scene of a fight. From within -the houses, the howls of the imprisoned dogs could -be heard. -</p> - -<p> -Now a still stranger trouble took hold upon the -brain of the drunken man. In front of him, behind -him, around him, the imaginary flight of -things began to take place again more rapidly -than before. He moved forward, and everything -moved away from him, the clouds, the trees, the -stones, the river banks, the poles of the boats, the -very houses,—all retreated at his approach. This -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> -evident repulsion and universal reprobation filled -him with terror. He halted. His spirit grew depressed. -Through his disordered brain a sudden -thought ran. “The fox!” Even that fox of a -Ciavola did not wish to remain with him longer! -His terror increased. His limbs trembled violently. -However, impelled by this thought, he descended -among the tender willow trees and the -high grass of the shore. -</p> - -<p> -The bright moon scattered over all things a -snowy serenity. The trees bent peacefully over -the bank, as though contemplating the running -water. Almost it seemed as though a soft, melancholy -breath emanated from the somnolence of the -river beneath the moon. The croaking of frogs -sounded clearly. Turlendana crouched among -the plants, almost hidden. His hands trembled on -his knees. Suddenly he felt something alive and -moving under him; a frog! He uttered a cry. He -rose and began to run, staggering, amongst the -willow trees impeding his way. In his uneasiness -of spirit, he felt terrified as though by some supernatural -occurrence. -</p> - -<p> -Stumbling over a rough place in the ground, he -fell on his stomach, his face pressed into the grass. -He got up with much difficulty, and stood looking -around him at the trees. The silvery silhouette -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> -of the poplars rose motionless through the silent -air, making their tops seem unusually tall. The -shores of the river would vanish endlessly, as if -they were something unreal, like shadows of things -seen in dreams. Upon the right side, the rocks -shone resplendently, like crystals of salt, shadowed -at times by the moving clouds passing softly overhead -like azure veils. Further on the wood broke -the horizon line. The scent of the wood and the -soft breath of the sea were blended. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Turlendana! Ooooh!” a clear voice cried -out. -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana turned in amazement. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Turlendana, Turlendanaaaaa!” -</p> - -<p> -It was Binchi-Banche, who came up, accompanied -by a customs officer, through the path used -by the sailors through the willow-tree thicket. -</p> - -<p> -“Where are you going at this time of night? -To weep over your camel?” asked Binchi-Banche -as he approached. -</p> - -<p> -Turlendana did not answer at once. He was -grasping his trousers with one hand; his knees -were bent forward and his face wore a strange expression -of stupidity, while he stammered so pitifully -that Binchi-Banche and the customs officer -broke out into boisterous laughter. -</p> - -<p> -“Go on! Go on!” exclaimed the wrinkled little -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> -man, grasping the drunken man by the shoulders -and pushing him towards the seashore. Turlendana -moved forward. Binchi-Banche and the -customs officer followed him at a little distance, -laughing and speaking in low voices. -</p> - -<p> -He reached the place where the verdure terminated -and the sand began. The grumbling of the -sea at the mouth of the Pescara could be heard. -On a level stretch of sand, stretched out between -the dunes, Turlendana ran against the corpse of -Barbara, which had not yet been buried. The large -body was skinned and bleeding, the plump parts -of the back, which were uncovered, appeared of a -yellowish colour; upon his legs the skin was still -hanging with all the hair; there were two enormous -callous spots; within his mouth his angular teeth -were visible, curving over the upper jaw and the -white tongue; for some unknown reason the under -lip was cut, while the neck resembled the body of -a serpent. -</p> - -<p> -At the appearance of this ghastly sight, Turlendana -burst into tears, shaking his head, and moaning -in a strange unhuman way: -</p> - -<p> -“Oho! Oho! Oho!” -</p> - -<p> -In the act of lying down upon the camel, he fell. -He attempted to rise, but the stupor caused by the -wine overcame him, and he lost consciousness. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Seeing Turlendana fall, Binchi-Banche and the -customs officer came over to him. Taking him, -one by the head and the other by the feet, they -lifted him up and laid him full length upon the -body of Barbara, in the position of a loving embrace. -Laughing at their deed, they departed. -</p> - -<p> -And thus Turlendana lay upon the camel until -the sun rose. -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale5">V -<span class="smaller"><i>THE GOLD PIECES</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<p> -Passacantando entered, rattling the -hanging glass doors violently, roughly shook -the rain-drops from his shoulders, took his pipe -from his mouth, and with disdainful unconcern -looked around the room. -</p> - -<p> -In the tavern the smoke of the tobacco was like -a bluish cloud, through which one could discern -the faces of those who were drinking: women of -bad repute; Pachio, the invalided soldier, whose -right eye, affected with some repulsive disease, was -covered by a greasy greenish band; Binchi-Banche, -the domestic of the customs officers, a small, sturdy -man with a surly, yellow-hued face like a lemon -without juice, with a bent back and his thin -legs thrust into boots which reached to his knees; -Magnasangue, the go-between of the soldiers, the -friend of comedians, of jugglers, of mountebanks, -of fortune-tellers, of tamers of bears,—of all that -ravenous and rapacious rabble which passes -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> -through the towns to snatch from the idle and -curious people a few pennies. -</p> - -<p> -Then, too, there were the belles of the Fiorentino -Hall, three or four women faded from dissipation, -their cheeks painted brick colour, their -eyes voluptuous, their mouths flaccid and almost -bluish in colour like over-ripe figs. -</p> - -<p> -Passacantando crossed the room, and seated -himself between the women Pica and Peppuccia on -a bench against the wall, which was covered with -indecent figures and writing. He was a slender -young fellow, rather effeminate, with a very pale -face from which protruded a nose thick, rapacious, -bent greatly to one side; his ears sprang from his -head like two inflated paper bags, one larger than -the other; his curved, protruding lips were very -red, and always had a small ball of whitish saliva -at the corners. Over his carefully combed hair -he wore a soft cap, flattened through long use. A -tuft of his hair, turned up like a hook, curled down -over his forehead to the roots of his nose, while -another curled over his temple. A certain licentiousness -was expressed in every gesture, every -move, and in the tones of his voice and his glances. -</p> - -<p> -“Ohe,” he cried, “Woman Africana, a goblet of -wine!” beating the table with his clay pipe, which -broke from the force of the blow. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> -</p> - -<p> -The woman Africana, the mistress of the inn, -left the bar and came forward towards the table, -waddling because of her extreme corpulence, and -placed in front of Passacantando a glass filled to -the brim with wine. She looked at him as she did -so with eyes full of loving entreaty. -</p> - -<p> -Passacantando suddenly flung his arm around -the neck of Peppuccia, forced her to drink from -the goblet, and then thrust his lips against hers. -Peppuccia laughed, disentangling herself from the -arms of Passacantando, her laughter causing the -unswallowed wine to spurt from her mouth into -his face. -</p> - -<p> -The woman Africana grew livid. She withdrew -behind the bar, where the sharp words of Peppuccia -and Pica reached her ears. The glass door -opened, and Fiorentino appeared on the threshold, -all bundled up in a cloak, like the villain of -a cheap novel. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, girls,” he cried out in a hoarse voice, “it -is time for you to go.” Peppuccia, Pica, and the -others rose from their seats beside the men and -followed their master. -</p> - -<p> -It was raining hard, and the Square of Bagno -was transformed into a muddy lake. Pachio, -Magnasangue, and the others left one after another -until only Binche-Banche, stretched under the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> -table in the stupor of intoxication, remained. The -smoke in the room gradually grew less, while a -half-plucked dove pecked from the floor the scattered -crumbs. -</p> - -<p> -As Passacantando was about to rise, Africana -moved slowly towards him, her unshapely figure -undulating as she walked, her full-moon face -wrinkled into a grotesque and affectionate grimace. -Upon her face were several moles with small -bunches of hair growing out from them, a thick -shadow covered her upper lip and her cheeks. -Her short, coarse, and curling hair formed a sort -of helmet on her head; her thick eyebrows met at -the top of her flat nose, so that she looked like a -creature affected with dropsy and elephantiasis. -</p> - -<p> -When she reached Passacantando, she grasped -his hands in order to detain him. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Giuva! What do you want? What have -I done to you?” -</p> - -<p> -“You? Nothing.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why then do you cause me such suffering and -torment?” -</p> - -<p> -“I? I am surprised!... Good night! I -have no time to lose just now,” and with a brutal -gesture, he started to go. But Africana threw -herself upon him, pressing his arms, and putting -her face against his, leaning upon him with her -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> -full weight, with a passion so uncontrolled and -terrible that Passacantando was frightened. -</p> - -<p> -“What do you want? What do you want? -Tell me! What do you want? Why do I do -this? I hold you! Stay here! Stay with me! -Don’t make me die of longing; don’t drive me -mad! What for? Come,—take everything you -find ...” -</p> - -<p> -She drew him towards the bar, opened the -drawer, and with one gesture offered him everything -it contained. In the greasy till were scattered -some copper coins, and a few shining silver -ones, the whole amounting to perhaps five lire. -</p> - -<p> -Passacantando, without saying a word, picked -up the coins and began to count them slowly upon -the bar, his mouth showing an expression of disgust. -Africana looked at the coins and then at -the face of the man, breathing hard, like a tired -beast. One heard the tinkling of the coins as they -fell upon the bar, the rough snoring of Binchi-Banche, -the soft pattering of the dove in the midst -of the continuous sound of the rain and the river -down below the Bagno and through the Bandiera. -</p> - -<p> -“Those are not enough,” Passacantando said at -last. “I must have more than those; bring out -some more, or I will go.” -</p> - -<p> -He had crushed his cap down over his head, and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> -from beneath his forehead with its curling tuft of -hair, his whitish eyes, greedy and impudent, looked -at Africana attentively, fascinating her. -</p> - -<p> -“I have no more; you have seen all there is. -Take all that you find ...” stammered Africana -in a caressing and supplicating voice, her double -chin quivering and her lips trembling, while the -tears poured from her piggish eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Passacantando softly, bending -over her, “well, do you think I don’t know that -your husband has some gold pieces?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Giovanni! ... how can I get them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Go and take them, at once. I will wait for -you here. Your husband is asleep, now is the -time. Go, or you’ll not see me any more, in the -name of Saint Antony!” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Giovanni!... I am afraid!” -</p> - -<p> -“What? Fear or no fear, I am going; let us -go.” -</p> - -<p> -Africana trembled; she pointed to Binchi-Banche -still stretched under the table in a heavy -sleep. -</p> - -<p> -“Close the door first,” she said submissively. -</p> - -<p> -Passacantando roused Binchi-Banche with a -kick, and dragged him, howling and shaking with -terror, out into the mud and slush. He came back -and closed the door. The red lantern that hung -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> -on one of the shutters threw a rosy light into the -tavern, leaving the heavy arches in deep shadow, -and giving the stairway in the angle a mysterious -look. -</p> - -<p> -“Come! Let us go!” said Passacantando again -to the still trembling Africana. -</p> - -<p> -They slowly ascended the dark stairway in the -corner of the room, the woman going first, the -man following close behind. At the top of the -stairway they emerged into a low room, planked -with beams. In a small niche in the wall was a -blue Majolica Madonna, in front of which burned, -for a vow, a light in a glass filled with water and -oil. The other walls were covered with a number -of torn paper pictures, of as many colours as -leprosy. A distressing odour filled the room. -</p> - -<p> -The two thieves advanced cautiously towards -the marital bed, upon which lay the old man, -buried in slumber, breathing with a sort of hoarse -hiss through his toothless gums and his dilated -nose, damp from the use of tobacco, his head -turned upon one cheek, resting on a striped cotton -pillow. Above his open mouth, which looked like -a cut made in a rotten pumpkin, rose his stiff -moustache; one of his eyes, half opened, resembled -the turned over ear of a dog, filled with hair, covered -with blisters; the veins stood out boldly upon -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> -his bare emaciated arm which lay outside the coverlet; -his crooked fingers, habitually grasping, -clutched the counterpane. -</p> - -<p> -Now, this old fellow had for a long time -possessed two twenty-franc pieces, which had -been left him by some miserly relative; these he -guarded jealously, keeping them in the tobacco in -his horn snuff-box, as some people do musk incense. -There lay the shining pieces of gold, and the old -man would take them out, look at them fondly, -feel of them lovingly between his fingers, as the -passion of avarice and the lust of possession grew -within him. -</p> - -<p> -Africana approached slowly, with bated breath, -while Passacantando, with commanding gestures, -urged her to the theft. There was a noise -below; both stopped. The half-plucked dove, -limping, fluttered to its nest in an old slipper at -the foot of the bed, but in settling itself, it made -some noise. The man, with a quick, brutal motion, -snatched up the bird and choked it in his fist. -</p> - -<p> -“Is it there?” he asked of Africana. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, it is there, under the pillow,” she answered, -sliding her hand carefully under the pillow -as she spoke. The old man moved in his sleep, -sighing involuntarily, while between his eyelids appeared -a little rim of the whites of his eyes. Then -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> -he fell back in the heavy stupor of senile drowsiness. -</p> - -<p> -Africana, in this crisis, suddenly became audacious, -pushed her hand quickly forward, grasped -the tobacco box and rushed towards the stairs, -descending with Passacantando just behind her. -</p> - -<p> -“Lord! Lord! See what I have done for -you!” she exclaimed, throwing herself upon him. -With shaking hands, they started together to open -the snuff-box and look among the tobacco for the -gold pieces. The pungent odour of the tobacco -arose to their nostrils, and both, as they felt the -desire to sneeze, were seized with a strong impulse -to laugh. In endeavouring to repress their -sneezes, they staggered against one another, pushing -and wavering. But suddenly an indistinct -growling was heard, then hoarse shouts broke -forth from the room above, and the old man -appeared at the top of the stairs. His face was -livid in the red light of the lantern, his form thin -and emaciated, his legs bare, his shirt in rags. -He looked down at the thieving couple, and, -waving his arms like a damned soul, cried: -</p> - -<p> -“The gold pieces! The gold pieces! The gold -pieces!” -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale6">VI -<span class="smaller"><i>SORCERY</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<p> -When seven consecutive sneezes of Mastro -Peppe De Sieri, called La Brevetta, resounded -loudly in the square of the City Hall, all -the inhabitants of Pescara would seat themselves -around their tables and begin their meal. Soon -after the bell would strike twelve, and simultaneously, -the people would become very hilarious. -</p> - -<p> -For many years La Brevetta had given this joyful -signal to the people daily, and the fame of his -marvellous sneezing spread through all the country -around, and also through the adjoining countries. -His memory still lives in the minds of the -people, for he originated a proverb which will endure -for many years to come. -</p> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p> -Mastro Peppe La Brevetta was a plebeian, -somewhat corpulent, thick-set, and clumsy; his -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> -face shining with a prosperous stupidity, his -eyes reminded one of the eyes of a sucking calf, -while his hands and feet were of extraordinary -dimensions. His nose was long and fleshy, his -jaw-bones very strong and mobile, and when undergoing -a fit of sneezing, he looked like one of -those sea-lions whose fat bodies, as sailors relate, -tremble all over like a jelly-pudding. -</p> - -<p> -Like the sea-lions, too, he was possessed of a -slow and lazy motion, their ridiculously awkward -attitudes, and their exceeding fondness for sleep. -He could not pass from the shade to the sun, nor -from the sun to the shade without an irrepressible -impulse of air rushing through his mouth and -nostrils. The noise produced, especially in quiet -spots, could be heard at a great distance, and as it -occurred at regular intervals, it came to be a sort -of time-piece for the citizens of the town. -</p> - -<p> -In his youth Mastro Peppe had kept a macaroni -shop, and among the strings of dough, the -monotonous noise of the mills and wheels, in the -mildness of the flour-dusty air, he had grown to -a placid stupidity. Having reached maturity, he -had married a certain Donna Pelagia of the -Commune of Castelli, and abandoning his early -trade, he had since that time dealt in terra cotta -and Majolica ware,—vases, plates, pitchers, and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> -all the poor earthenware which the craftsmen of -Castelli manufactured for adorning the tables of -the land of Abruzzi. Among the simplicity and -religiousness of those shapes, unchanged for centuries, -he lived in a very simple way, sneezing all -the time, and as his wife was a miserly creature, -little by little her avaricious spirit had communicated -itself to him, until he had grown into her -penurious and miserly ways. -</p> - -<p> -Now Mastro Peppe was the owner of a piece -of land and a small farm house, situated upon the -right bank of the river, just at the spot where the -current of the river, turning, forms a sort of greenish -amphitheatre. The soil being well irrigated, -produced very abundantly, not only grapes and -cereals, but especially large quantities of vegetables. -The harvests increased, and each year -Mastro Peppe’s pig grew fat, feasting under an -oak tree which dropped its wealth of acorns for -his delectation. Each year, in the month of -January, La Brevetta, with his wife, would go -over to his farm, and invoke the favour of San -Antonio to assist in the killing and salting of the -pig. -</p> - -<p> -One year it happened that his wife was somewhat -ill, and La Brevetta went alone to the -slaughtering of the beast. The pig was placed -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> -upon a large board and held there by three sturdy -farm-hands, while his throat was cut with a sharp -knife. The grunting and squealing of the hog -resounded through the solitude, usually broken -only by the murmuring of the stream, then suddenly -the sounds grew less, and were lost in the -gurgling of warm vermilion blood which was disgorged -from the gaping wound, and while the body -was giving its last convulsive jerks, the new sun -was absorbing from the river the moisture in the -form of a silvery mist. With a sort of joyous -ferocity La Brevetta watched Lepruccio burn with -a hot iron the deep eyes of the pig, and rejoiced -to hear the boards creak under the weight of the -animal, thinking of the plentiful supply of lard -and the prospective hams. -</p> - -<p> -The murdered beast was lifted up and suspended -from a hook, shaped like a rustic pitchfork, -and left there, hanging head downward. -Burning bundles of reeds were used by the farm-hands -to singe off the bristles, and the flames rose -almost invisible in the greater light of the sun. At -length, La Brevetta began to scrape with a shining -blade the blackened surface of the animal’s body, -while one of the assistants poured boiling water -over it. Gradually the skin became clean, and -showed rosy-tinted as it hung steaming in the sun. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> -Lepruccio, whose face was the wrinkled and -unctuous face of an old man, and in whose ears -hung rings, stood biting his lips during the performance, -working his body up and down, and -bending upon his knees. The work being completed, -Mastro Peppe ordered the farm-hands to -put the pig under cover. Never in his life had -he seen so large a bulk of flesh from one pig, and -he regretted that his wife was not there to rejoice -with him because of it. -</p> - -<p> -Since it was late in the afternoon, Matteo -Puriello and Biagio Quaglia, two friends, were -returning from the home of Don Bergamino -Camplone, a priest who had gone into business. -</p> - -<p> -These two cronies were living a gay life, given -to dissipation, fond of any kind of fun, very free -in giving advice, and as they had heard of the -killing of the pig, and of the absence of Pelagia, -hoping to meet with some pleasing adventure, -they came over to tantalise La Brevetta. Matteo -Puriello, commonly called Ciavola, was a man of -about forty, a poacher, tall and slender, with -blond hair and a yellow tinted skin, with a stiff -and bristling moustache. His head was like that -of a gilded wooden effigy, from which the gilding -had partly worn off. His eyes round and restless, -like those of a race-horse, shone like two new -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> -silver coins, and his whole person, usually clad -in a suit of earth colour, reminded one, in its attitudes -and movements and its swinging gait, of a -hunting dog catching hares as he ran across the -plain. -</p> - -<p> -Biagio Quaglia, so-called Ristabilito, was under -medium height, a few years younger than his -friend, with a rubicund face, of the brilliancy and -freshness of an almond tree in springtime. He -possessed the singular faculty of moving his ears -and the skin of his forehead independently, and -with the skin of the cranium, as does a monkey. -By some unexplained contraction of muscles, he -was in this way enabled greatly to change his -aspect, and this, together with a happy vocal -power of imitation, and the gift of quickly catching -the ridiculous side of men and things, gave -him the power to imitate in gesture and in word -the, different groups of Pescara, so that he was -greatly in demand as an entertainer. In this -happy, parasitical mode of life, by playing the -guitar at festivals and baptismal ceremonies, he -was prospering. His eyes shone like those of a -ferret, his head was covered with a sort of woolly -hair like the down on the body of a fat, plucked -goose before it is broiled. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> -</p> - -<p> -When La Brevetta saw the two friends, he -greeted them gently, saying: -</p> - -<p> -“What wind brings you here?” -</p> - -<p> -After exchanging pleasant greetings, La -Brevetta took the two friends into the room -where, upon the table, lay his wonderful pig, -and asked: -</p> - -<p> -“What do you think of such a pig? Eh? -What do you think about it?” -</p> - -<p> -The two friends were contemplating the pig -in wondering silence, and Ristabilito made a -curious noise by beating his palate with his -tongue. -</p> - -<p> -Ciavola asked: -</p> - -<p> -“And what do you expect to do with it?” -</p> - -<p> -“I expect to salt it,” answered La Brevetta, his -voice full of gluttonous joy at the thought of the -future delights of the palate. -</p> - -<p> -“You expect to salt it?” cried Ristabilito. -“You wish to salt it? Ciavola, have you ever -seen a more foolish man than this one? To allow -such an opportunity to escape!” -</p> - -<p> -Stupefied, La Brevetta was looking with his -calf-like eyes first at one and then at the other -of his interlocutors. -</p> - -<p> -“Donna Pelagia has always made you bow to -her will,” pursued Ristabilito. “Now, when she -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> -is not here to see you, sell the pig and eat up -the money.” -</p> - -<p> -“But Pelagia?—Pelagia?——” stammered La -Brevetta, in whose mind arose a vision of his -wrathful wife which brought terror to his heart. -</p> - -<p> -“You can tell her that the pig was stolen,” -suggested the ever-ready Ciavola, with a quick -gesture of impatience. -</p> - -<p> -La Brevetta was horrified. -</p> - -<p> -“How could I take home such a story? Pelagia -would not believe me. She will throw me out of -doors! She will beat me! You don’t know -Pelagia.” -</p> - -<p> -“Uh, Pelagia! Uh, uh, Donna Pelagia!” cried -the wily fellows derisively. Then Ristabilito, -mimicking the lamenting voice of Peppe and the -sharp, screeching voice of the woman, went -through a scene of a comedy in which Peppe was -bound to a bench, and soundly spanked by his -wife, like a child. -</p> - -<p> -Ciavola witnessed this performance in great -glee, laughing and jumping about the pig, unable -to restrain himself. The man who was being -laughed at was just at this moment taken with a -sudden paroxysm of sneezing, and stood waving -his arms frantically toward Ristabilito, trying to -make him stop. The din was so great that the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> -window panes fairly rattled as the light of the -setting sun fell on the three faces. -</p> - -<p> -When Ristabilito was silenced at last, Ciavola -said: -</p> - -<p> -“Well, let’s go now!” -</p> - -<p> -“If you wish to stay to supper with me ...” -Mastro Peppe ventured to say between his teeth. -</p> - -<p> -“No, no, my beauty,” interrupted Ciavola, -turning toward the door. “Remember me to -Pelagia,—and do salt the pig.” -</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p> -The two friends walked together along the -shore of the river. In the distance the boats of -Barletta, loaded with salt, scintillated like fairy -palaces of crystal; a gentle breeze was blowing -from Montecorno, ruffling the limpid surface of -the water. -</p> - -<p> -“I say,” said Ristabilito to Ciavola, halting, -“are we going to steal that pig to-night?” -</p> - -<p> -“And how can we do it?” asked Ciavola. -</p> - -<p> -Said Ristabilito: -</p> - -<p> -“I know how to do it if the pig is left where -we last saw it.” -</p> - -<p> -Said Ciavola: -</p> - -<p> -“Well, let us do it! But after?” -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Ristabilito stopped again, his little eyes brilliant -as two carbuncles, his flushed face wrinkling -between the ears like a fawn’s, in a grimace of -joy. -</p> - -<p> -“I know it ...” he said laconically. -</p> - -<p> -In the distance, his form showing black through -the naked trees of the silver poplar grove, Don -Bergamino Camplone approached the two. As -soon as they saw him, they hastened toward him. -Noticing their joyful mien, the priest, smiling, -asked them: -</p> - -<p> -“Well, what good news have you?” -</p> - -<p> -Briefly, they communicated to him their purpose, -to which he delightedly assented. Ristabilito -concluded softly: -</p> - -<p> -“We shall have to use great cunning. You -know that Peppe, since he married that ugly -woman, Donna Pelagia, has become a great miser, -but he likes wine pretty well. Now then let us -get him to accompany us to the Inn of Assau. -You, Don Bergamino, treat us to drinks and pay -for everything. Peppe will drink as much as he -can get without having to pay anything for it, -and will get intoxicated. We can then go about -our business with no fear of interruption.” -</p> - -<p> -Ciavola favoured this plan, and the priest -agreed to his share in the bargain. Then all -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> -together returned to the house of Peppe, which -was only about two gun-shots away, and as they -drew near, Ciavola raised his voice: -</p> - -<p> -“Hello-o! La Brevetta! Do you wish to come -to the Inn of Assau? The priest is here, and he -is ready to pay for a bottle or two—Hello!” La -Brevetta did not delay in coming down the path, -and the four set out together, in the soft light of -the new moon. The quiet was occasionally -broken by the caterwauling of love-stricken cats. -Ristabilito turned to Peppe, asking in jest: -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Peppe, don’t you hear Pelagia calling -you?” -</p> - -<p> -Upon the left side of the river shone the lights -of the Inn of Assau, mirrored by the water. As -the current of the river was not very strong here, -Assau kept a little boat to ferry over his customers. -In answer to their calls, the boat approached -over the luminous water to meet the new-comers. -When they were seated and engaged in friendly -chat, Ciavola with his long legs began to rock -the boat, and the creaking of the wood frightened -La Brevetta, who, affected by the dampness of -the river, broke forth in another paroxysm of -sneezing. -</p> - -<p> -Arrived at the inn, seated around an oaken -table, the company became more jovial, laughing -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> -and jesting loudly, and pouring the wine into their -victim, who found it easy to let the good red juice -of the vines, rich in taste and colour, run down -his throat. -</p> - -<p> -“Another bottle,” ordered Don Bergamino, -beating his fist upon the table. -</p> - -<p> -Assau, an essentially rustic, bow-legged man, -brought in the ruby coloured bottles. Ciavola -sang with much Bacchic freedom, striking the -rhythm upon the glasses. La Brevetta, his tongue -now thick and his eyes swimming from the effects -of the wine, was holding the priest by the sleeve -to make him listen to his stammering and incoherent -praises of his wonderful pig. Above their -heads lines of dried, greenish pumpkins hung from -the ceiling; the lamps, in which the oil was getting -low, were smoking. -</p> - -<p> -It was late at night and the moon was high in -the sky when the friends again crossed the river. -In landing, Mastro Peppe came near falling in -the mud, for his legs were unsteady and his eyesight -blurred. -</p> - -<p> -Ristabilito said: -</p> - -<p> -“Let us do a kind act. Let us carry this fellow -home.” -</p> - -<p> -Holding him up under the arms, they took him -home through the poplar grove, and the drunken -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> -man, mistaking the white trunks of the trees in -the night, stammered thickly: -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, how many Dominican monks I see!...” -</p> - -<p> -Said Ciavola, “They are going to look for San -Antonio.” -</p> - -<p> -The drunken man went on, after an interval: -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Lepruccio, Lepruccio, seven measures of -salt will be enough. What shall we do?” -</p> - -<p> -The three conspirators, having conveyed -Mastro Peppe to the door of his house, left him -there. He ascended the steps with much difficulty, -mumbling about Lepruccio and the salt. -Then, not noticing that he had left the door open, -he threw himself into the arms of Morpheus. -</p> - -<p> -Ciavola and Ristabilito, after having partaken -of the supper of Don Bergamino, provided with -certain crooked tools, set cautiously to work. The -moon had set, the sky was glittering with stars, -and through the solitude the north wind was -blowing sharply. The two men advanced silently, -listening for any sound, and halting now and then, -when the skill and agility of Matteo Puriello -would be called into use for the occasion. -</p> - -<p> -When they reached the place, Ristabilito could -scarcely withhold an exclamation of joy on finding -the door open. Profound silence reigned -through the house, except for the deep snoring of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> -the sleeping man. Ciavola ascended the stairs -first, followed by Ristabilito. In the dim light -they perceived the vague outlines of the pig lying -upon the table. With the utmost caution, they -raised the heavy body and dragged it out by main -force. They stood listening for a moment. The -cocks could be heard crowing, one after another, -in the yards. -</p> - -<p> -Then the two thieves, laughing at their prowess, -took the pig upon their shoulders and made their -way up the path; to Ciavola it seemed like stealing -through a wood with poached game. The pig -was heavy, and they reached the house of the -priest in a breathless state. -</p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p> -The next morning, having recovered from the -effects of the wine, Mastro Peppe awoke, stood -up in bed, and stretched himself, listening to the -bells saluting the eve of San Antonio. Already -in his mind, in the confusion of the first awakening, -he saw Lepruccio cut into pieces and cover -his beautiful fat pork-meat with salt, and his soul -was filled with happiness at this thought. Impatient -for the anticipated delight, he dressed -hastily and went out to the stair-case, wiping his -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> -eyes to see more clearly. Upon the table where -he had left the pig, the morning sun was smiling -in, but nothing was there save a stain of blood! -</p> - -<p> -“The pig? Where is the pig?” cried the -robbed man in a hoarse voice. -</p> - -<p> -In a frenzy, he descended the stairs, and noticing -the open door, striking his forehead, he ran -out crying, and called the labourers around him, -asking every one if they had seen the pig, if they -had taken it. His queries came faster and faster -and his voice grew louder and louder, until the -sound of the uproar came up the river to Ciavola -and Ristabilito. -</p> - -<p> -They came tranquilly upon the group to enjoy -the spectacle and keep up the joke. As they came -in sight, Mastro Peppe turned to them, weeping -in his grief, and exclaimed: -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, dear me! They have stolen my pig! -Oh, dear me! What am I to do now? What -am I to do?” -</p> - -<p> -Biagio Quaglia stood a moment considering -the appearance of the unhappy fellow, his eyes -half-closed in an expression which was half sneer, -half admiration, his head bent sideways, as -though judging of the effect of this acting. Then -approaching, he said: -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Yes indeed!... One cannot deny it ... -You play your part well!” -</p> - -<p> -Peppe, not understanding, lifted his face, -streaked with tears. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, yes indeed! You are becoming very -cunning!” continued Ristabilito with an air of -confidential friendship. -</p> - -<p> -Peppe, not yet understanding, stared stupidly at -Ristabilito, and his tears stopped flowing. -</p> - -<p> -“But truly, I did not think you were so -malicious!” went on Ristabilito. “Good fellow! -My compliments!” -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean?” asked La Brevetta between -his sobs. “What do you mean?... Oh, -poor me! How can I now return home?” -</p> - -<p> -“Good! Good! Very well done!” cried -Ristabilito. “Play your part! Play your part! -Weep louder! Pull your hair! Make every one -hear you! Yes, that way! Make everybody believe -you!” -</p> - -<p> -Peppe, still weeping, “But I am telling you the -truth! My pig has been stolen from me! Oh, -Lord! Poor me!” -</p> - -<p> -“Go on! Go on! Don’t stop! The more you -shout, the less I believe you. Go on! Go on! -Some more!” -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Peppe, beside himself with anger and grief, -swore repeatedly. -</p> - -<p> -“I tell you it is true! I hope to die on the -spot if the pig has not been stolen from me!” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, poor innocent fellow!” shrieked Ciavola, -jestingly. “Put your finger in your mouth! How -can we believe you, when last night we saw the -pig there? Has San Antonio given him wings -to fly?” -</p> - -<p> -“San Antonio be blest! It is as I tell you!” -</p> - -<p> -“But how can it be?” -</p> - -<p> -“So it is!” -</p> - -<p> -“It can’t be so!” -</p> - -<p> -“It is so!” -</p> - -<p> -“No!” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, yes! It is so! It is so, and I am a dead -man! I don’t know how I can ever go home -again! Pelagia will not believe me; and if she -believes me, she will never give me any peace -... I am a dead man!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, we’ll try to believe you,” said Ristabilito. -“But look here, Peppe. Ciavola suggested the -trick to you yesterday. Is it not so that you might -fool Pelagia, and others as well? You might be -capable of doing that.” -</p> - -<p> -Then La Brevetta began to weep and cry and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> -despair in such a foolish burst of grief that Ristabilito -said: -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, keep quiet! We believe you. But -if this is true, we must find a way to repair the -damage.” -</p> - -<p> -“What way?” asked La Brevetta eagerly, a -ray of hope coming into his soul. -</p> - -<p> -“I will tell you,” said Biagio Quaglia. “Certainly -someone living around here must have done -it, for no one has come over from India to take -your pig away. Is not that so, Peppe?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is well, it is well!” assented the man, his -voice still filled with tears. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, then, pay attention,” continued Ristabilito, -delighted at Peppe’s credulity. “Well, -then, if no one has come from India to rob you, -then certainly someone who lives around here -must have been the thief. Is not that so, Peppe?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is well. It is well.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, what is to be done? We must summon -the farm-hands together and employ some sorcery -to discover the thief. When the thief is discovered, -the pig is found.” -</p> - -<p> -Peppe’s eyes shone with greediness. He came -nearer at the hint of the sorcery, which awakened -in him all his native superstitions. -</p> - -<p> -“You know there are three kinds of sorcerers, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> -white ones, pink ones, and black ones; and you -know there are in the town three women who -know the art of sorcery: Rosa Schiavona, Rusaria -Pajora, and La Ciniscia. It is for you to choose.” -</p> - -<p> -Peppe stood for a moment in deep thought; -then he chose Rusaria Pajora, for she was renowned -as an enchantress and always accomplished -great things. -</p> - -<p> -“Well then,” Ristabilito finished. “There is -no time to lose. For your sake, I am willing to -do you a favour; I will go to town and take what -is necessary; I will speak with Rusaria and ask -her to give me all needful articles and will return -this morning. Give me the money.” -</p> - -<p> -Peppe took out of his waistcoat three francs -and handed them over hesitatingly. -</p> - -<p> -“Three francs!” cried the other, refusing -them. “Three francs? More than ten are -needed.” The husband of Pelagia almost had a -fit upon hearing this. -</p> - -<p> -“What? Ten francs for a sorcery?” he -stammered, feeling in his pocket with trembling -fingers. “Here, I give you eight of them, and -no more.” -</p> - -<p> -Ristabilito took them, saying dryly: -</p> - -<p> -“Very well! What I can do, I will do. Will -you come with me, Ciavola?” -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> -</p> - -<p> -The two companions set off toward Pescara -along the path through the trees, walking quickly -in single file; Ciavola showed his merriment by -pounding Ristabilito on the back with his fist as -they went along. Arriving at the town, they betook -themselves to the store of Don Daniele -Pacentro, a druggist, with whom they were on -very familiar terms, and here they purchased certain -aromatic drugs, having them put up in pills -as big as walnuts, well covered with sugar and -apple juice. Just as the druggist finished the -pills, Biagio Quaglia, who had been absent during -this time, came in, carrying a piece of paper -filled with dried excrements of dog, and asked -the druggist to make from these two beautiful -pills, similar in size and shape to the others, excepting -that they were to be dipped in aloe and -then lightly coated with sugar. The druggist -did as he asked, and in order that these might -be distinguished from the others, he placed upon -each a small mark as suggested by Ristabilito. -</p> - -<p> -The two cheats then betook themselves back -to the house of Mastro Peppe, which they reached -in a short time, arriving there at about noon, and -found Mastro Peppe anxiously awaiting them. -As soon as he saw the form of Ciavola approaching -through the trees, he cried out: -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Well?” -</p> - -<p> -“Everything is all right,” answered Ristabilito -triumphantly, showing the box containing the bewitched -confectionery. “Now, as today is the -eve of San Antonio and the labourers are feasting, -gather all the people together and offer them -drink. I know that you have a certain keg of -Montepulciano wine; bring that out today! And -when everybody is here, I will know what to say, -and what to do.” -</p> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<p> -Two hours later, during the warm, clear afternoon, -all the neighbouring harvesters and farm-hands, -who had been summoned by La Brevetta, -were assembled together in answer to the invitation. -A number of great straw stacks in the -yard gleamed brightly golden in the sun; a flock -of geese, snowy white, with orange-coloured -beaks, waddled slowly about, cackling, and hunting -for a place to swim while the smell of manure -was wafted at intervals from the barnyard. All -these rustic men, waiting to drink, were jesting -contentedly, sitting upon their curved legs, deformed -by their labours; some of them had round, -wrinkled faces like withered apples, some were -mild and patient in expression, some showed the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> -animation of malice, all possessed the incipient -beards of adolescence, and lounged about in the -easy attitudes of youth, wearing their new clothes -with the manifest care of love. -</p> - -<p> -Ciavola and Ristabilito did not keep them waiting -long. Holding the box of candy in his hand, -Ristabilito ordered the men to form a circle, and -standing in the centre, he proceeded with grave -voice and gestures to give a brief harangue. -</p> - -<p> -“Good men! None of you know Why Mastro -Peppe De Sierri has called you here....” -</p> - -<p> -The men’s mouths opened in stupid wonder at -this unexpected preamble, and as they listened, -their joy in anticipation of the promised wine -changed to an uneasy expectation of something -else, they knew not what. The orator continued: -</p> - -<p> -“But as something unpleasant might happen -for which you would reprove me, I will tell you -what is the matter before making any experiment.” -</p> - -<p> -His listeners stared questioningly at each other -with a look of stupidity, then turned their gaze -upon the curious and mysterious box which the -speaker held in his hands. One of them, when -Ristabilito paused to notice the effect of his words, -exclaimed impatiently: -</p> - -<p> -“Well, what is it?” -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“I will tell you immediately, my good men. -Last night there was stolen from Mastro Peppe -a beautiful pig, which was all ready for salting. -Who the thief is we do not know, but certainly -he must be found among you people, for nobody -came from India to steal the pig from Mastro -Peppe!” -</p> - -<p> -Whether it was the playful effect of the strong -argument about India, or whether it was the heat -of the bright sun cannot be determined, but at -any rate, La Brevetta began to sneeze. The -peasants moved back, the flock of geese ran in all -directions, terrified, and the seven consecutive -sneezes resounded loudly in the air, disturbing the -rural quiet. An uproar of merriment seized the -crowd at the great noise. After they had again -recovered their composure, Ristabilito went on -gravely, as before: -</p> - -<p> -“In order to discover the thief, Mastro Peppe -has planned to give you certain good candies to -eat, and some of his old Montepulciano wine to -drink, which will be tapped for this purpose today. -But I must tell you something. The thief, -as soon as he bites the candy, will feel his mouth -so drawn up by the bitterness of the candy that -he will have to spit it out. Now, do you want to -try this experiment? Or, is the thief, in order -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> -not to be found out in such a manner, ready to -confess now? Tell me, what do you want to do?” -</p> - -<p> -“We wish to eat and drink!” answered the -crowd in a chorus, while an excited motion ran -through the throng, each man showing an expression -of curiosity and delight at the portentous -demonstration about to be made. -</p> - -<p> -Ciavola said: -</p> - -<p> -“You must stand in a row for this experiment. -Now, one of you is to be singled out.” -</p> - -<p> -When they were all thus formed in a line, he -took up the flask of wine and one of the glasses, -ready to pour it. Ristabilito placed himself at -one end of the line, and began slowly to distribute -the candy, which cracked under the strong teeth -of the peasants and instantly disappeared. When -he reached Mastro Peppe, he took out one of -the canine candies, which had been marked, and -handed it to him, without in any way arousing -suspicion by his manner. -</p> - -<p> -Mastro Peppe, who had been watching with -wide open eyes to detect the thief, thrust the candy -quickly in his mouth, with almost gluttonous -eagerness, and began to chew it up. Suddenly -his jaw bones rose through his cheeks towards his -eyes, the corners of his mouth twisted upwards, -and his temples wrinkled, the skin of his nose -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> -drew up, his chin became contorted, and all his -features took on a comic and involuntary expression -of horror, a visible shiver passed down his -back, the bitterness of the aloes on his tongue was -beyond endurance, his stomach revolted so that -he was unable to swallow the dose, and the unhappy -man was forced to spit it from his mouth. -</p> - -<p> -“Oho, Mastro Peppe! What in the dickens -are you doing?” cried out Tulespre dei Passeri, -a greenish, hairy old goat-shepherd,—green as a -swamp-turtle. Hearing his voice, Ristabilito -turned around from his work of distributing the -candies. Seeing La Brevetta’s contortions, he said -in a benevolent voice: -</p> - -<p> -“Well! Perhaps the candy I gave you is too -sweet. Here is another one, try this, Peppe,” and -with his two fingers, he tossed into Peppe’s open -mouth the other canine pill. -</p> - -<p> -The poor man took it, and feeling the sharp, -malignant eyes of the goat-herder fixed upon him, -he made a supreme effort to endure the bitterness. -He neither bit nor swallowed it, but let it -stay in his mouth, with his tongue pressed motionless -against his teeth. But in the heat and dampness -of his mouth, the aloes began to dissolve, and -he could not long endure the taste; his mouth began -to twist as before, his nose was filled with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> -tears, the big drops ran down his cheeks, springing -from his eyes like uncut pearls, and at last, -he had to spit out the mouthful. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, well, Mastro Peppe! What the dickens -are you doing now?” again exclaimed the -goat-herder, showing his white and toothless -gums as he spoke. “Well, well! What does -this mean?” -</p> - -<p> -The peasants broke the lines, and crowded -around La Brevetta, some jeering and laughing, -others with wrathful words. Their pride had -been hurt, and the ready brutality of the rustic -people was aroused and the implacable austerity -of their superstitious natures broke out in a sudden -tempest of contumely and reproach. -</p> - -<p> -“Why did you get us to come here to try to -lay the blame of this thing on one of us? So -this is the kind of sorcery you have gotten up? -It was intended to fool us! And why? You calculated -wrongly, you fool! you liar! you ill-bred -fool! you rascal! You wanted to deceive us, you -fool! you thief! you liar! You deserve to have -every bone in your body broken, you scoundrel! -you deceiver!” -</p> - -<p> -Having broken the wine flasks and all the -glasses, they dispersed, shouting back their last -insults through the poplar grove. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Ciavola, Ristabilito, the geese, and La Brevetta -were left alone in the yard. The latter, filled -with shame, rage, and confusion, his tongue still -biting from the acridness of the aloes, was unable -to speak a word. Ristabilito stood looking at him -pitilessly, tapping the ground with his toe as he -stood supported on his heels, and shaking his -head sarcastically, then he broke out with an -insinuating sneer: -</p> - -<p> -“Ha! ha! ha! ha! Good, good, La Brevetta! -Now, tell us how much you got for the pig. Did -you get ten ducats?” -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale7">VII -<span class="smaller"><i>THE IDOLATERS</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p> -The great sandy square scintillated as if -spread with powdered pumice stone. All -of the houses around it, whitened with plaster, -seemed red hot like the walls of an immense -furnace whose fire was about to die out. In the -distance, the pilasters of the church reflected the -radiation of the clouds and became red as granite, -the Windows flashed as if they might contain -an internal conflagration; the sacred images -possessed personalities alive with colour; the entire -structure, beneath the splendour of this -meteoric twilight, assumed a more lofty power of -dominion over the houses of Radusani. -</p> - -<p> -There moved from the streets to the square -groups of men and women, vociferating and gesticulating. -In the souls of all, superstitious terror -was rapidly becoming intense; in all of those uncultivated -imaginations a thousand terrible images -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> -of divine chastisement arose; comments, passionate -contentions, lamentable conjurations, disconnected -tales, prayers, cries mingled with the -ominous rumbling of an imminent hurricane. -</p> - -<p> -Already for many days that bloody redness -had lingered in the sky after the sunset, had invaded -the tranquillity of the night, illuminated -tragically the slumber of the fields, aroused the -howls of the dogs. -</p> - -<p> -“Giacobbe! Giacobbe!” cried several while -waving their arms who previous to this time had -spoken in low voices, before the church, crowded -around a pilaster of the vestibule. “Giacobbe!” -</p> - -<p> -There issued from the main door and approached -the summoners a long and lean man, -who seemed ill with a hectic fever, was bald upon -the top of his head, and crowned at the temples -and neck with long reddish hair. -</p> - -<p> -His small, hollow eyes, animated as if from -the ardour of a deep passion, converged slightly -toward his nose, and were of an uncertain colour. -The lack of the two front teeth of the upper -jaw gave to his mouth as he spoke, and to the -movements of his sharp chin scattered with hairs, -a singular appearance of satyr-like senility. The -rest of his body was a miserable architectural -structure of bones badly concealed by clothes, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> -while on his hands, on the under sides of his arms -and on his breast, his skin was full of azure -marks, incisions made with the point of a pin -and powder of indigo, in memory of visits to -sanctuaries, of grace received, of vows taken. -</p> - -<p> -As the fanatic drew near to the group around -the pilaster, a medley of questions arose from -these anxious men. -</p> - -<p> -“What then? What had Don Consolo said? -Had he made only the arm of silver appear?” -</p> - -<p> -“And was not the entire bust a better omen? -When would Pallura return with the candles?” -</p> - -<p> -“Were there a hundred pounds of wax? Only -a hundred pounds? And when would the bells -begin to sound? What then? What then?” -</p> - -<p> -The clamours increased around Giacobbe; those -furthest away drew near to the church; from all -the streets the people overflowed on to the piazza -and filled it. -</p> - -<p> -Giacobbe replied to the interrogators. He -spoke in a low voice, as if he were about to reveal -terrible secrets, as if he were the bearer of -prophecies from afar. He had witnessed on high, -in the centre of blood, a threatening hand and -then a black veil, and then a sword and a trumpet.... -</p> - -<p> -“Tell us! Tell us!” the others induced him, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> -while watching his face, seized with a strange -greediness to hear marvellous things, while, in -the meantime the fable sped from mouth to mouth -throughout the assembled multitude. -</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p> -The great vermilion clouds mounted slowly -from the horizon to the zenith, until they finally -filled the entire cupola of the heavens. A vapour -as of melted metals seemed to undulate over the -roofs of the houses, and in the descending lustre -of the twilight sulphurous and violent rays blended -together with trembling iridescence. -</p> - -<p> -A long streamer more luminous than the rest -escaped toward a street giving on the river -front, and there appeared in the distance the -flaming of the water between the long, slender -shafts of the poplars; then came a border of -ragged country, where the old Saracenic towers -rose confusedly like islands of stone in the midst -of obscurity; oppressive emanations from the -reaped hay filled the atmosphere, which was at -times like an odour of putrefied worms amongst -the foliage. Troops of swallows flew across the -sky with shrill-resounding notes, while going -from the banks of the river to the caves. The -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> -murmuring of the multitude was interrupted by -the silence of expectation. The name of Pallura -was on all lips, while irate impatience burst out -here and there. Along the path of the river they -did not as yet see the cart appear; they lacked -candles and Don Consolo delayed because of this -to expose the relics and make the exorcisms; further, -an imminent peril was threatening. Panic -invaded all of this people, massed like a herd of -beasts, no longer daring to lift their eyes to -heaven. From the breasts of the women sobs began -to escape, while a supreme consternation oppressed -and stupefied all souls at these sounds of -grief. -</p> - -<p> -At length the bells rang out. As these bronze -forms swung at a low height, the ominous sound -of their tolling blanched the faces of all, and a -species of continuous howling filled the air, between -strokes. -</p> - -<p> -“Saint Pantaleone! Saint Pantaleone!” -</p> - -<p> -There was an immense simultaneous cry for -help from these desperate souls. All upon their -knees, with extended hands, with white faces, implored, -“Saint Pantaleone!” -</p> - -<p> -There appeared at the door of the church, in -the midst of the smoke from two censers, Don -Consolo in a shining violet cape embroidered with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> -gold. He held on high the sacred arm of silver, -and exorcised the air while pronouncing these -words in Latin, “<i>Ut fidelibus tuis aeris serenitatem -concedere digneris. Te rogamus, audi nos.</i>” -</p> - -<p> -The appearance of the relic excited a delirium -of tenderness in the multitude. Tears flowed -from all eyes, and behind the clear veil of tears -their eyes saw a miraculous, celestial splendour -emanate from the three fingers held up to bless -the multitude. The arm seemed larger in the kindled -atmosphere, the twilight rays produced a -dazzling effect on the precious stones, the balsam -of the incense was wafted rapidly to the -devotees. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Te rogamus audi nos!</i>” -</p> - -<p> -But when the arm re-entered and the bells -ceased to ring, in the momentary silence, they -heard nearby a tinkling of bells that came from -the road by the river. Then followed a sudden -movement of the crowd in that direction and -many said, “It is Pallura with the candles! It -is Pallura who has come! See Pallura!” -</p> - -<p> -The cart arrived, rattling over the gravel, -dragged by a heavy grey mare, on whose back a -great brass horn shone like a beautiful half moon. -As Giacobbe and the others ran to meet the wagon -the gentle beast stopped, blowing heavily from -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> -his nostrils. Giacobbe, who reached it first, saw, -stretched in the bottom of the cart, the body of -Pallura covered with blood, whereupon he began -to howl and waved his arms to the crowd, shouting, -“He is dead! He is dead!” -</p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p> -The sad news passed from mouth to mouth in -a flash. The people pressed around the cart, -stretched their necks to see the body, no longer -thought of threats from above, stricken by this -new, unexpected occurrence, invaded by that natural -fierce curiosity that men possess in the presence -of blood. -</p> - -<p> -“Is he dead? How did he die?” -</p> - -<p> -Pallura rested supine on the boards, with a -large wound in the centre of his forehead, with -an ear lacerated, with rents in his arms, in his -sides, in one thigh. A tepid stream dripped from -the hollow of his eyes down to his chin and neck, -while it spotted his shirt, formed black and shining -clots upon his breast, on his leather belt, and -even on his trousers. -</p> - -<p> -Giacobbe remained leaning over the body; all -of those around him waited, a light as of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> -morning illuminated their perplexed faces; and, -in that moment of silence, from the banks of the -river came the croak of the frogs, and the bats -passed and repassed grazing the heads of the -people. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly Giacobbe standing up, with a cheek -stained with blood, cried, “He is not dead. He -still breathes.” -</p> - -<p> -A dull murmur ran through the crowd, and -those nearest stretched themselves to see; the restlessness -of those most distant made them break -into shouts. Two women brought a flask of -water, another some strips of linen, while a youth -offered a pumpkin full of wine. The face of the -wounded man was bathed, the flow of blood from -the forehead stanched and his head raised. -</p> - -<p> -Then there arose loud voices, demanding the -cause of all this. The hundred pounds of wax -were missing; barely a few fragments of candles -remained among the interstices of the boards in -the bottom of the cart. -</p> - -<p> -In the midst of the commotion the emotions of -the people were kindled more and more, and became -more irritable and belligerent. As an ancient -hereditary hatred for the country of Mascalico, -opposite upon the other bank of the river, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> -was always fermenting, Giacobbe cried venomously -in a hoarse voice, “Maybe the candles are -being used for Saint Gonselvo?” -</p> - -<p> -This was like a spark of fire. The spirit of -the church awoke suddenly in that race, grown -brutish through so many years of blind and fierce -worship of its one idol. The words of the fanatic -sped from mouth to mouth. And beneath the -tragic glow of the twilight this tumultuous people -had the appearance of a tribe of negro -mutineers. -</p> - -<p> -The name of the Saint burst from all throats -like a war cry. The most ardent hurled imprecations -against the farther side of the river, while -shaking their arms and clenching their fists. -Then, all of those countenances afire with wrath -and wrathful thoughts, round and resolute, whose -circles of gold in the ears and thick tufts of hair -on the forehead gave them a strange barbarian -aspect, all of those countenances turned toward -the reclining man, and softened with pity. There -was around the cart a pious solicitude shown by -the women, who wished to reanimate the suffering -man; many loving hands changed the strips of -linen on the wounds, sprinkled the face with -water, placed the pumpkin of wine to the white -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> -lips and made a kind of a pillow beneath the head. -</p> - -<p> -“Pallura, poor Pallura, why do you not -answer?” -</p> - -<p> -He remained motionless, with closed hands, -with mouth half open, with a brown down on his -throat and chin, with a sort of beauty of youth -still apparent in his features even though they -were strained by the convulsions of pain. From -beneath the binding of his forehead a stream of -blood dropped down upon his temples, while at -the angles of his mouth appeared little bubbles -of red foam, and from his throat issued a species -of thick, interrupted hissing. Around him the assistance, -the questions, the feverish glances increased. -The mare every so often shook her head -and neighed in the direction of her stable. An -oppression as of an imminent hurricane weighed -upon the country. -</p> - -<p> -Then one heard feminine cries in the direction -of the square, cries of the mother, that seemed -even louder in the midst of the sudden silence of -the others. An enormous woman, almost suffocated -by her flesh, passed through the crowd, and -arrived crying at the cart. As she was so heavy -as to be unable to climb into the cart, she grasped -the feet of her son, with words of love interspersed -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> -among her tears, given in a broken voice, -so sharp, and with an expression of grief so terribly -beast like, that a shiver ran through all of -the bystanders and all turned their faces aside. -</p> - -<p> -“Zaccheo! Zaccheo! my heart! my joy!”—the -widow cried, over and over again, while kissing -the feet of the wounded one, and drawing him to -her toward the ground. The wounded man -stirred, twisted his mouth in a spasm, opened his -eyes wide, but he really could not see, because -a kind of humid film covered his sight. Great -tears began to flow from the corners of his eyelids -and to run down upon his cheeks and neck, -his mouth remained twisted, and in the thick hissing -of his throat one perceived a vain effort to -speak. They crowded around him. “Speak, Pallura! -Who has wounded you? Who has -wounded you? Speak! Speak!” -</p> - -<p> -And beneath the question their wrath raged; -their violent desires intensified, a dull craving -for vengeance shook them and that hereditary -hatred boiled up again in the souls of all. -</p> - -<p> -“Speak! Who has wounded you? Tell us -about it! Tell us about it!” -</p> - -<p> -The dying man opened his eyes a second time, -and as they clasped both of his hands, perhaps -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> -through the warmth of that living contact the -spirit in him revived and his face lighted up. He -had upon his lips a vague murmur, betwixt the -foam that rose, suddenly more abundant and -bloody. They did not as yet understand his -words. One could hear in the silence the breathing -of the breathless multitude, and all eyes held -within their depths a single flame because all -minds awaited a single word. -</p> - -<p> -“Ma—Ma—Ma—scalico.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mascalico! Mascalico!” howled Giacobbe, -who was bending, with strained ear, to grasp the -weak syllables from that dying mouth. An immense -cry greeted this explanation. There was -at first a confused rising and falling as of a tempest -in the multitude. Then when one voice -raised above the tumult gave the signal, the multitude -disbanded in mad haste. -</p> - -<p> -One single thought pursued those men, one -thought that seemed to have flashed instantaneously -into the minds of all: to arm themselves -with something in order to wound. A species of -sanguinary fatality settled upon all consciences beneath -the surly splendour of the twilight, in the -midst of the electrifying odours emanating from -the panting country. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> -</p> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<p> -Then the phalanxes, armed with scythes, with -sickles, with hatchets, with hoes and with muskets, -reunited on the square before the church. -</p> - -<p> -And the idolaters shouted, “Saint Pantaleone!” -</p> - -<p> -Don Consolo, terrified by the turmoil, had fled -to the depths of a stall behind the altar. A handful -of fanatics, conducted by Giacobbe, penetrated -the large chapel, forced its gratings of bronze, and -arrived at length in the underground passage -where the bust of the Saint was kept. Three -lamps fed with olive oil burned gently in the -sacristy behind a crystal; the Christian idol -sparkled with its white head surrounded by a -large solar disc, and the walls were covered over -with the rich gifts. -</p> - -<p> -When the idol, borne upon the shoulders of -four Hercules, appeared presently between the -pilasters of the vestibule, and shed rays from its -aureole, a long, breathless passion passed over -the expectant crowd, a noise like a joyous wind -beat upon all foreheads. The column moved. -And the enormous head of the Saint oscillated on -high, gazing before it with two empty eyes. -</p> - -<p> -In the heavens now passed at intervals meteors -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> -which seemed alive, while groups of thin clouds -seemed to detach themselves from the heavens, -and, while dissolving, floated slowly away. The -entire country of Radusa appeared in the background -like a mountain of ashes that might be -concealing a fire, and in front of it the contour -of the country lost itself with an indistinct flash. -A great chorus of frogs disturbed the harmony -of the solitude. -</p> - -<p> -On the road by the river Pallura’s cart obstructed -progress. It was empty now, but bore -traces of blood in many places. Irate imprecations -exploded suddenly in the silence. -</p> - -<p> -Giacobbe cried, “Let us put the Saint in it!” -</p> - -<p> -The bust was placed on the boards and dragged -by human strength to the ford. The procession, -ready for battle, thus crossed the boundary. -Along the files metal lamps were carried, the invaded -waters broke in luminous sprays, and everywhere -a red light flamed from the young poplars -in the distance, toward the quadrangular towers. -Mascalico appeared upon a little elevation, asleep -in the centre of an olive orchard. -</p> - -<p> -The dogs barked here and there, with a furious -persistency. The column having issued from -the ford, on abandoning the common road, advanced -with rapid steps by a direct path that cut -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> -through the fields. The bust of silver borne anew -on rugged shoulders, towered above the heads -of the men amongst the high grain, odorous and -starred with living fireflies. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly, a shepherd, who rested under a straw -shed to guard the grain, seized by a mad terror -at the sight of so many armed men, began to -flee up the coast, screaming as loud as he could, -“Help! Help!” -</p> - -<p> -His cries echoed through the olive orchards. -</p> - -<p> -Then it was that the Radusani increased their -speed. Among the trunks of trees, amid the -dried reeds, the Saint of silver tottered, gave back -sonorous tinklings at the blows of the trees, became -illuminated with vivid flashes at every hint -of a fall. Ten, twelve, twenty shots rained down -in a vibrating flash, one after another upon the -group of houses. One heard creaks, then cries -followed by a great clamorous commotion; several -doors opened while others closed, windows -fell in fragments and vases of basil fell shivered -on the road. A white smoke rose placidly in the -air, behind the path of the assailants, up to the -celestial incandescence. All blinded, in a belligerent -rage, shouted, “To death! To death!” -</p> - -<p> -A group of idolaters maintained their positions -around Saint Pantaleone. Atrocious vituperations -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> -against Saint Gonselvo burst out amongst -the brandished scythes and sickles. -</p> - -<p> -“Thief! Thief! Loafer! The candles!... -The candles!” -</p> - -<p> -Other groups besieged the doors of the houses -with blows of hatchets. And, as the doors unhinged -shattered and fell, the howling Pantaleonites -burst inside, ready to kill. Half nude -women fled to the corners, imploring pity and, -trying to defend themselves from the blows by -grasping the weapons and cutting their fingers, -they rolled extended on the pavement in the midst -of heaps of coverings and sheets from which -oozed their flaccid turnip-fed flesh. -</p> - -<p> -Giacobbe, tall, slender, flushed, a bundle of -dried bones rendered formidable by passion, director -of the slaughter, stopped everywhere in -order to make a broad, commanding gesture -above all heads with his huge scythe. He walked -in the front ranks, fearless, without a hat, in -the name of Saint Pantaleone. More than thirty -men followed him. And all had the confused -and stupid sensation of walking in the midst of -fire, upon an oscillating earth, beneath a burning -vault that was about to shake down upon them. -</p> - -<p> -But from all sides defenders began to assemble; -the Mascalicesi, strong and dark as mulattoes, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> -sanguinary, who struck with long unyielding -knives, and tore the stomach and throat, accompanying -each blow with guttural cries. The fray -drew little by little toward the church, from the -roofs of two or three houses burst flames, a horde -of women and children escaped precipitately -among the olives, seized with panic and no longer -with light in their eyes. -</p> - -<p> -Then among the men, without the handicap -of the women’s tears and laments, the hand-to-hand -struggle grew more ferocious. Beneath the -rust-coloured sky the earth was covered with -corpses. Vituperations, choked within the teeth -of the slain, resounded, and ever above the clamour -continued the shout of the Radusani, “The -candles! The candles!” -</p> - -<p> -But the entrance of the church was barred by -an enormous door of oak studded with nails. -The Mascalicesi defended it from the blows and -hatchets. The Saint of silver, impassive and -white, oscillated in the thick of the fray, still sustained -upon the shoulders of the four Hercules, -who, although bleeding from head to foot, refused -to give up. The supreme vow of the attackers -was to place the idol on the altar of the enemy. -</p> - -<p> -Now while the Mascalicesi raged like prodigious -lions on the stone steps, Giacobbe disappeared -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> -suddenly and skirted the rear of the edifice -for an undefended opening by which he could -penetrate the sacristy. Finally he discovered an -aperture at a slight distance from the ground, -clambered up, remained fixed there, held fast at -the hips by its narrowness, twisted and turned, -until at length he succeeded in forcing his long -body through the opening. -</p> - -<p> -The welcome aroma of incense was vanishing -in the nocturnal frost of the house of God. Groping -in the dark, guided by the crashing of the -external blows, the man walked toward the door, -stumbling over the chain, and falling on his face -and hands. -</p> - -<p> -Radusanian hatchets already resounded upon -the hardness of the oak doors, when he began to -force the lock with an iron, breathless, suffocated -by the violent palpitation of anxiety that sapped -his strength, with his eyes blurred by indistinct -flashes, with his wounds aching and emitting a -tepid stream which flowed down over his skin. -</p> - -<p> -“Saint Pantaleone! Saint Pantaleone!” -shouted outside the hoarse voices of those who -felt the door yielding slowly, while they redoubled -their shouts and the blows of their hatchets. From -the other side of the wood resounded the heavy -thud of bodies of those that had been murdered -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> -and the sharp blow of a knife that had pinioned -some one against the door, nailed through the -back. And it seemed to Giacobbe that the whole -nave throbbed with the beating of his wild heart. -</p> - -<p> -After a final effort, the door swung open. The -Radusani rushed in headlong with an immense -shout of victory, passing over the bodies of the -dead, dragging the Saint of silver to the altar. -</p> - -<p> -An animated oscillation of reflections suddenly -illuminated the obscurity of the nave and made -the gold of the candelabra glitter. And in that -glaring splendour, which now and again was intensified -by the burning of the adjacent houses, a -second struggle took place. The entangled bodies -rolled upon the bricks, remained in a death grip, -balanced together here and there in their wrathful -struggles, howled and rolled beneath the -benches, upon the steps of the chapels and against -the corners of the confessionals. In the symmetrical -concave of this house of God arose that -icy sound of the steel that penetrates the flesh or -that grinds through the bones, that single broken -groan of a man wounded in a vital part, that rattle -that the framework of the skull gives forth -when crushed with a blow, that roar of him who -dreads to die, that atrocious hilarity of him who -has reached the point of exulting in killing, all of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> -these sounds echoed through this house of God. -And the calm odour of incense arose above the -conflict. -</p> - -<p> -The silver idol had not yet reached the glory -of the altar, because the hostile forces, encircling -the altar, had prevented it. Giacobbe, wounded -in many places, struck with his scythe, never yielding -a palm’s breadth of the steps which he had -been the first to conquer. There remained but -two to support the Saint. The enormous white -head rolled as if drunk over the wrathful pool of -blood. The Mascalicesi raged. -</p> - -<p> -Then Saint Pantaleone fell to the pavement, -giving a sharp rattle that stabbed the heart of -Giacobbe deeper than any sword could have done. -As the ruddy mower darted over to lift it, a huge -demon of a man with a blow from a sickle -stretched the enemy on his spine. -</p> - -<p> -Twice he arose, and two other blows hurled -him down again. The blood inundated his entire -face, breast and hands, while on his shoulders -and arms the bones, laid bare by deep wounds, -shone out, but still he persisted in recovering. -Maddened by his fierce tenacity of life, three, -four, five ploughmen together struck him furiously -in the stomach, thus disgorging his entrails. -The fanatic fell backwards, struck his neck on the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> -bust of the silver Saint, turned suddenly upon his -stomach with his face pressed against the metal -and with his arms extended before him and his -legs contracted under him. -</p> - -<p> -Thus was Saint Pantaleone lost. -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale8">VIII -<span class="smaller"><i>MUNGIA</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<p> -Through all the country of Pescara, San -Silvestro, Fontanella, San Rocco, even as -far as Spoltore, and through all the farms of -Vallelonga beyond Allento and particularly in the -little boroughs where sailors meet near the mouth -of the river,—through all this country, where -the houses are built of clay and of reeds, and -the fire material is supplied by drift wood from -the sea, for many years a Catholic rhapsodist -with a barbarian and piratical name, who is as -blind as the ancient Homer, has been famous. -</p> - -<p> -Mungia begins his peregrinations at the beginning -of spring, and ends them with the first frosts -of October. He goes about the country, conducted -by a woman and a child. Into the peaceful -gardens and the serenity of the fields he brings -his lamenting religious songs, antiphonies, preludes -and responses of the offices of the dead. -His figure is so familiar to all, that even the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> -dogs in the backyards do not bark at his approach. -He announces his advent with a trill -from his clarionet, and at the well-known signal, -the old wives come out upon the thresholds to -welcome him, place his chair under the shade of -a tree in the yard, and make inquiries as to his -health. All the peasants come from their work, -and form a subdued and awed circle about him, -while with their hard hands they wipe the perspiration -of toil from their foreheads, and, still -holding their implements, assume a reverent attitude. -Their bare arms and legs are knotted and -misshapen from the severe toil of the fields; their -twisted bodies have taken on the hue of the -earth—working in the soil from the dawn of day, -they seem to have something in common with the -trees and the roots. -</p> - -<p> -A sort of religious solemnity is thrown over -everything by this blind man. It is not the sun, -it is not the fulness of the earth, not the joy of -spring vegetation, not the sounds of the distant -choruses that gives to all the feeling of admiration, -of devotion, and more than all, the sadness -of religion. One of the old women gives the -name of a departed relative to whom she wishes -to offer songs and oblations. Mungia uncovers -his head. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> -</p> - -<p> -His wide shining cranium appears encircled -with white hair; his whole face, which in its quiet -calm has the appearance of a mask, wrinkles up -when he takes the clarionet in his mouth. Upon -his temples, under his eyes, beside his ears, around -his nostrils and at the corners of his mouth, a -thousand lines become visible, some delicate, some -deep, changing with the rhythm of the music by -which he is inspired. His nerves are at a tension, -and over his jaw bones the purple veins -show, like those of the turning vine-leaves in the -autumn, the lower eyelid is turned outward, showing -a reddish line, over his whole face the tough -skin is tightly drawn, giving the appearance of a -wonderful carving in relief; the light plays over -the face with its short, stiff, and badly shaved -beard, and over the neck, with its deep hollows, -between the long still cords which stand out -prominently, flashing like dew upon a warty and -mouldy pumpkin; and, as he plays, a thousand -vibrating minor notes float out upon the air, and -the humble head takes on an appearance of mystery. -His fingers press the unsteady keys of the -box-wood clarionet, and the notes pour out. The -instrument itself seems almost human, and to -breathe with life, as inanimate objects which have -been long and intimately associated with men -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> -often do; the wood has an unctuous glare; the -holes, which in the winter months become the -nests of little spiders, are still filled with cobwebs -and dust; the keys are stained with verdigris; in -places beeswax has been employed to cover up -breaks; the joints are held together with paper -and thread, while about the edge one can still see -the ornaments of its youth. The blind man’s -voice rises weak and uncertain, his fingers move -mechanically, searching for the notes of a prelude, -or an interlude of days long passed. -</p> - -<p> -His long, deformed hands, with knots upon -the phalanges of the first three fingers, and with -the nails of his thumbs depressed and white in -colour, resemble somewhat the hands of a decrepit -monkey; the backs are of the unhealthy colour of -decayed fruit, a mixture of pink, yellow and blue -shades; the palms show a net-work of lines and -furrows, and between the fingers the skin is -blistered. -</p> - -<p> -When he has finished the prelude, Mungia begins -to sing, “<i>Libera Me Domine</i>,” and “<i>Ne Recorderis</i>,” -slowly, and upon a modulation of five -notes. The Latin words of the song are interspersed -with his native idioms, and now and then, -to fill out the metrical rhythm, he inserts an adverb -ending in <i>ente</i>, which he follows with heavy -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> -rhymes; he raises his voice in these parts, then -lowers it in the less fatiguing lines. The name -of Jesus runs often through the rhapsody; not -without a certain dramatic movement. The passion -of Jesus is narrated in verses of five lines. -</p> - -<p> -The peasants listen with an air of devotion, -watching the blind man’s mouth as he sings. In -the season, the chorus of the vintagers comes from -the fields, vieing with the notes of the pious songs; -Mungia, whose hearing is weak, sings on of the -mysteries of death; his lips adhere to his toothless -gums, and the saliva runs down and drips -from his chin; placing the clarionet again to his -lips, he begins the intermezzo, then takes up the -rhymes again, and so continues to the end. His -recompense is a small measure of corn and a bottle -of wine or a bunch of onions, and sometimes a -hen. -</p> - -<p> -He rises from his chair, a tall, emaciated figure, -with bent back and knees turning a little backward. -He wears upon his head a large green -cap, and no matter what the season, he is wrapped -in a peasant cloak falling from his throat below -his knees and fastened with two brass buckles. -He moves with difficulty, at times stopping to -cough. -</p> - -<p> -When October comes, and the vineyards have -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> -been vintaged and the yards are filled with mud -and gravel, he withdraws into a garret, which he -shares with a tailor who has a paralytic wife, -and a street pauper with nine children who are -variously afflicted with scrofula and the rickets. -On pleasant days he is taken to the arch of -Portanova, and sits upon a rock in the sun, while -he softly sings the “<i>De Profundis</i>” to keep his -throat in condition. On these occasions, mendicants -of all sorts gather around him, men with -dislocated limbs, hunchbacks, cripples, paralytics, -lepers, women covered with wounds and scabs, -toothless women, and those without eyebrows and -without hair; children, green as locusts, emaciated, -with sharp, savage eyes, like birds of prey; -taciturn, with mouths already withered; children -who bear in their blood diseases inherited from -the monster Poverty; all of that miserable, degenerate -rabble, the remnants of a decrepit race. -These ragged children of God come to gather -about the singer, and speak to him as one of themselves. -</p> - -<p> -Then Mungia graciously begins to sing to the -waiting crowd. Chiachiu, a native of Silvi, approaches, -dragging himself with great difficulty, -helping himself with the palms of his hands, on -which he wears a covering of leather; when he -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> -reaches the group about Mungia, he stops, holding -in his hands his right foot, which is twisted and -contorted like a root. Strigia, an uncertain, repugnant -figure, a senile hermaphrodite with bright -red carbuncles covering neck and grey locks on -the temples, of which the creature seems to be -proud, the top and back of the head covered with -wool like a vulture, next approaches. Then come -the Mammalucchi, three idiot brothers, who seem -to have been brought forth from the union of -man and goat, so manifest in their faces are the -ovine features. The oldest of the three has some -soft, degenerated bulbs protruding from the orbs -of his eyes, of a bluish colour, much like oval bags -of pulp about to rot. The peculiar affliction of -the youngest is in his ear, the lobe of which is -abnormally inflated, and of the violet hue of a -fig. The three come together, with bags of -strings upon their backs. -</p> - -<p> -The Ossei comes also, a lean, serpent-like man -with an olive-coloured face, a flat nose with a singular -aspect of malice and deceit, which betrays -his gipsy origin, and eyelids which turn up like -those of a pilot who sails over stormy seas. Following -him is Catalana di Gissi, a woman of uncertain -age, her skin covered with long reddish -blisters, and on her forehead spots looking like -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> -copper coins, hipless, like a bitch after confinement: -she is called the Venus of the Mendicants,—the -fountain of Love at which all the thirsty -ones are quenched. -</p> - -<p> -Then comes Jacobbe of Campli, an old man -with greenish-coloured hair like some of the mechanics’ -work in brass; then industrious Gargala -in a vehicle built of the remains of broken boats, -still smeared with tar; then Constantino di Corropoli, -the cynic, whose lower lip has a growth which -gives him the appearance of holding a piece of -raw meat between his teeth. And still they come, -inhabitants of the woods who have moved along -the course of the river from the hills to the sea; -all gather around the rhapsodist in the sun. -</p> - -<p> -Mungia then sings with studied gestures and -strange postures. His soul is filled with exaltation, -an aureole of glory surrounds him, for now -he gives himself freely to his Muse, unrestrained -in his singing. He scarcely hears the clamour of -applause which arises from the swarming mendicants -as he closes. -</p> - -<p> -At the end of the song, as the warm sun has -left the spot where the group is assembled and is -climbing the Corinthian columns of the arch of -the Capitol, the mendicants bid the blind man -farewell and disperse through the neighbouring -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> -lands. Usually Chiachiu di Silvi, holding his deformed -foot, and the dwarfed brothers remain -after the others have gone, asking alms of passers-by, -while Mungia sits silent, thinking, perhaps, of -the triumphs of his youth when Lucicoppelle, -Golpo di Casoli, and Quattorece were alive. -</p> - -<p> -Oh, the glorious band of Mungia! The small -orchestra had won through all the lower valley -of Pescara a lofty fame. Golpo di Casoli played -the viola. He was a greyish little man, like the -lizards on the rocks, with the skin of his face -and neck wrinkled and membranous like that of -a turtle boiled in water. He wore a sort of -Phrygian cap which covered his ears on the sides. -He played on his viola with quick gestures, pressing -the instrument with his sharp chin and with -his contracted fingers hammering the keys in an -ostentatious effort, as do the monkeys of wandering -mountebanks. -</p> - -<p> -After him came Quattorece with his bass viol -slung over his stomach by a strap of ass-leather; -he was as tall and thin as a wax candle, and -throughout his person was a predominance of -orange tints; he looked like one of those monochromatic -painted figures in stiff attitudes which -ornament some of the poetry of Castelli; his eyes -shone with the yellow transparency of a shepherd -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> -dog’s, the cartilage of his great ears opened like -those of a bat against which an orange light is -thrown, his clothes were of some tobacco-coloured -cloth, such as hunters usually wear; while his old -viol, ornamented with feathers, with silver adornments, -bows, images, and medals, looked like -some barbarian instrument from which one might -expect strange sounds to issue. But Lucicoppelle, -holding across his chest his rough, two-stringed -guitar, well tuned in diapason, came in last, with -the bold, dancing step of a rustic Figaro. He was -the joyful spirit of the orchestra, the greenest one -in age and strength, the liveliest and the brightest. -A heavy tuft of crisp hair fell over his forehead -under a scarlet cap, and in his ears shone womanlike, -two silver clasps. He loved wine as a musical -toast. To serenades in honour of beauty, to -open-air dances, to gorgeous, boisterous feasts, to -weddings, to christenings, to votive feasts and -funeral rites, the band of Mungia would hasten, -expected and acclaimed. The nuptial procession -would move through the streets strewn with bulrush -blossoms and sweet-scented herbs, greeted -with joyful shouts and salutes. Five mules, decorated -with wreaths, carried the wedding presents. -In a cart drawn by two oxen whose harness was -wound with ribbons, and whose backs were covered -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> -with draperies, were seated the bridal couple; -from the cart dangled boilers, earthen vessels, -and copper pots, which shook and rattled with the -jolting of the vehicle; chairs, tables, sofas, all -sorts of antique shapes of household furniture -oscillated, creaking, about them; damask skirts, -richly figured with flowers, embroidered waist-coats, -silken aprons, and all sorts of articles of -women’s apparel shone in the sun in bright array, -while a distaff, the symbol of domestic virtue, -piled on top with the linen, was outlined against -the blue sky like a golden staff. -</p> - -<p> -The women relatives, carrying upon their heads -baskets of grain, upon the top of which was a -loaf, and upon the loaf a flower, came next in -hierarchical order, singing as they walked. This -train of simple, graceful figures reminded one of -the canephoræ in the Greek bas-reliefs. Reaching -the house, the women took the baskets from -their heads, and threw a handful of wheat at the -bride, pronouncing a ritual augury, invoking fecundity -and abundance. The mother, also, observed -the ceremony of throwing grain, weeping -copiously as with a brush she touched her daughter -on the chest, shoulders and forehead, and -speaking doleful words of love as she did so. -</p> - -<p> -Then in the courtyard, under a roof of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> -branches, the feast began. Mungia, who had not -yet lost his eyesight nor felt the burden of years -upon him, erect in all the magnificence of a green -coat, perspiring and beaming, blew with all the -power of his lungs upon his clarionet, beating time -with his foot. Golpo di Casoli struck his violin -energetically, Quattorece exerted himself in a wild -endeavour to keep up with the crescendo of the -Moorish dance, while Lucicoppelle, standing -straight with his head up, holding aloft in his left -hand the key of his guitar, and with the right -pricking on two strings the metric chords, looked -down at the women, laughing gaily among the -flowers. -</p> - -<p> -Then the “Master of Ceremonies” brought in -the viands on large painted plates and the cloud -of vapour rising from the hot dishes faded away -among the foliage of the trees. The amphoras -of wine, with their well-worn handles, were passed -around from one to another, the men stretched -their arms out across the table between the loaves -of bread, scattered with anise seeds, and the -cheese cakes, round as full moons, and helped -themselves to olives, oranges and almonds. The -smell of spice mingled with the fresh, vaporous -odour of the vegetables; sometimes the guests offered -the bride goblets of wine in which were -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> -small pieces of jewelry, or necklaces of great grape -stones like a string of golden fruit. After a while -the exhilarating effects of the liquor began to be -felt, and the crowd grew hilarious with Bacchic -joy and then Mungia, advancing with uncovered -head and holding in his hands a glass filled to -the rim, would sing the beautiful deistic ritual -which to feasters throughout the land of Abruzzi -gave a disposition for friendly toasts: -</p> - -<p> -“To the health of all these friends of mine, -united, I drink this wine so pure and fine.” -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale9">IX -<span class="smaller"><i>THE DOWNFALL OF CANDIA</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p> -Three days after the customary Easter banquet, -which in the house Lamonica was -always sumptuous and crowded with feasters by -virtue of its traditions, Donna Cristina Lamonica -counted her table linen and silver while she placed -each article systematically in chest and safe, ready -for future similar occasions. -</p> - -<p> -With her, as usual, at this task and aiding, were -the maid Maria Bisaccia and the laundress Candida -Marcanda, popularly known as “Candia.” -The large baskets heaped with fine linen rested -in a row on the pavement. The vases of silver -and the other table ornaments sparkled upon a -tray; they were solidly fashioned, if somewhat -rudely, by rustic silversmiths, in shape almost -liturgical, as are all of the vases that the rich -provincial families hand down from generation to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> -generation. The fresh fragrance of bleached -linen permeated the room. -</p> - -<p> -Candia took from the baskets the doilies, the -table cloths and the napkins, had the “signora” -examine the linen intact, and handed one piece -after another to Maria, who filled up the drawers -while the “signora” scattered through the -spaces an aroma, and took notes in a book. Candia -was a tall woman, large-boned, parched, fifty -years of age; her back was slightly curved from -bending over in that position habitual to her profession; -she had very long arms and the head of -a bird of prey resting upon the neck of a tortoise. -Maria Bisaccia was an Ortonesian, a little fleshy, -of milk-white complexion, also possessing very -clear eyes; she had a soft manner of speaking and -made slow, delicate gestures like one who was accustomed -habitually to exercise her hands amongst -sweet pastry, syrups, preserves and confectionery. -Donna Cristina, also a native of Ortona, -educated in a Benedictine monastery, was small of -stature, dressed somewhat carelessly, with hair -of a reddish tendency, a face scattered with -freckles, a nose long and thick, bad teeth, and -most beautiful and chaste eyes which resembled -those of a priest disguised as a woman. -</p> - -<p> -The three women attended to the work with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> -much assiduity, spending thus a large part of the -afternoon. -</p> - -<p> -At length, just as Candia went out with the -empty baskets, Donna Cristina counted the pieces -of silver and found that a spoon was missing. -</p> - -<p> -“Maria! Maria!” she cried, suddenly panic-stricken. -“One spoon is lacking.... Count -them! Quick!” -</p> - -<p> -“But how? It cannot be, Signora,” Maria answered. -“Allow me a glance at them.” She began -to re-sort the pieces, calling their numbers -aloud. Donna Cristina looked on and shook her -head. The silver clinked musically. -</p> - -<p> -“An actual fact!” Maria exclaimed at last with -a motion of despair. “And now what are we to -do?” -</p> - -<p> -She was quite above suspicion. She had -given proof of fidelity and honesty for fifteen -years in that family. She had come from Ortona -with Donna Cristina at the time of her marriage, -almost constituting a part of the marriage portion, -and had always exercised a certain authority -in the household under the protection of the “signora.” -She was full of religious superstition, devoted -to her especial saint and her especial church, -and finally, she was very astute. With the “signora” -she had united in a kind of hostile alliance -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> -to everything pertaining to Pescara, and especially -to the popular saint of these Pescaresian -people. On every occasion she quoted the country -of her birth, its beauties and riches, the splendours -of its basilica, the treasures of San Tomaso, the -magnificence of its ecclesiastical ceremonies in contrast -to the meagreness of San Cetteo, which possessed -but a solitary, small, holy arm of silver. -</p> - -<p> -At length Donna Cristina said, “Look carefully -everywhere.” -</p> - -<p> -Maria left the room to begin a search. She -penetrated all the angles of the kitchen and loggia, -but in vain, and returned at last with empty hands. -</p> - -<p> -“There is no such thing about! Neither here -nor there!” she cried. Then the two set themselves -to thinking, to heaping up conjectures, to -searching their memories. -</p> - -<p> -They went out on the loggia that bordered the -court, on the loggia belonging to the laundry, in -order to make a final examination. As their -speech grew louder, the occupants of the neighbouring -houses appeared at their windows. -</p> - -<p> -“What has befallen you? Donna Cristina, tell -us! Tell us!” they cried. Donna Cristina and -Maria recounted their story with many words -and gestures. -</p> - -<p> -“Jesu! Jesu! then there must be thieves -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> -among us!” In less than no time the rumour of -this theft spread throughout the vicinity, in fact -through all of Pescara. Men and women fell to -arguing, to surmising, whom the thief might be. -The story on reaching the most remote house of -Sant’ Agostina, was huge in proportions; it no -longer told of a single spoon, but of all the silver -of the Lamonica house. -</p> - -<p> -Now, as the weather was beautiful and the -roses in the loggia had commenced to bloom, and -two canaries were singing in their cages, the neighbours -detained one another at the windows for the -sheer pleasure of chattering about the season -with its soothing warmth. The heads of the -women appeared amongst the vases of basil, and -the hubbub they made seemed especially to please -the cats in the caves above. -</p> - -<p> -Donna Cristina clasped her hands and cried, -“Who could it have been?” -</p> - -<p> -Donna Isabella Sertale, nicknamed “The Cat,” -who had the stealthy, furtive movements of a -beast of prey, called in a twanging voice, “Who -has been with you this long time, Donna Cristina? -It seems to me that I have seen Candia -come and go.” -</p> - -<p> -“A-a-a-h!” exclaimed Donna Felicetta Margasanta, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> -called “The Magpipe,” because of her -everlasting garrulity. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah!” the other neighbours repeated in turn. -</p> - -<p> -“And you had not thought of her?” -</p> - -<p> -“And did you not observe her?” -</p> - -<p> -“And don’t you know of what metal Candia is -made?” -</p> - -<p> -“We would do well to tell you of her!” -</p> - -<p> -“That we would!” -</p> - -<p> -“We would do well to tell you!” -</p> - -<p> -“She washes the clothes in goodly fashion, -there is none to dispute that. She is the best laundress -that dwells in Pescara, one cannot help saying -that. But she holds a defect in her five -fingers. Did you not know that, now?” -</p> - -<p> -“Once two of my doilies disappeared.” -</p> - -<p> -“And I missed a tablecloth.” -</p> - -<p> -“And I a shift shirt.” -</p> - -<p> -“And I three pairs of stockings.” -</p> - -<p> -“And I two pillow-cases.” -</p> - -<p> -“And I a new skirt.” -</p> - -<p> -“And I failed to recover an article.” -</p> - -<p> -“I have lost——” -</p> - -<p> -“And I, too.” -</p> - -<p> -“I have not driven her out, for who is there -to fill her place?” -</p> - -<p> -“Silvestra?” -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“No! No!” -</p> - -<p> -“Angelantonia? Balascetta?” -</p> - -<p> -“Each worse than the other!” -</p> - -<p> -“One must have patience.” -</p> - -<p> -“But a spoon, think of that!” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s too much! it is!” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t remain silent about it, Donna Cristina, -don’t remain silent!” -</p> - -<p> -“Whether silent or not silent!” burst out Maria -Bisaccia, who for all her placid and benign expression -never let a chance escape her to oppress -or put in a bad light the other servants of the -house, “we will think for ourselves!” -</p> - -<p> -In this fashion the chatter from the windows on -the loggia continued, and accusation fled from -mouth to mouth throughout the entire district. -</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p> -The following morning, when Candia Marcanda -had her hands in the soap-suds, there appeared -at her door-sill the town guard Biagio -Pesce, popularly known as “The Corporal.” He -said to her, “You are wanted by Signor Sindaco -at the town-hall this very moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“What did you say?” asked Candia, knitting -her brows without discontinuing her task. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“You are wanted by Signor Sindaco at the -town-hall this very moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am wanted? And why?” Candia asked in -a brusque manner. She did not know what was -responsible for this unexpected summons and -therefore reared at it like a stubborn animal before -a shadow. -</p> - -<p> -“I cannot know the reason,” answered the Corporal. -“I have received but an order.” -</p> - -<p> -“What order?” -</p> - -<p> -The woman because of an obstinacy natural -to her could not refrain from questions. She was -unable to realise the truth. -</p> - -<p> -“I am wanted by Signor Sindaco? And why? -And what have I done? I have no wish to go -there. I have done nothing unseemly.” -</p> - -<p> -Then the Corporal cried impatiently, “Ah, you -do not wish to go there? You had better beware!” -And he went away muttering, with his hand on -the hilt of his shabby sword. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile several who had heard the dialogue -came from their doorways into the street and began -to stare at the laundress, who was violently -attacking her wash. Since they knew of the silver -spoon they laughed at one another and made -remarks that the laundress did not understand. -Their ridicule and ambiguous expressions filled -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> -the heart of the woman with much uneasiness, -which increased when the Corporal appeared accompanied -by another guard. -</p> - -<p> -“Now move on!” he said resolutely. -</p> - -<p> -Candia wiped her arms in silence and went. -Throughout the square everyone stopped to look. -Rosa Panara, an enemy, from the threshold of -her shop, called with a fierce laugh, “Drop the -bone thou hast picked up!” -</p> - -<p> -The laundress, bewildered, unable to imagine -the cause of this persecution, could not answer. -</p> - -<p> -Before the town-hall stood a group of curious -people who waited to see her pass. Candia, suddenly -seized with a wrathful spirit, mounted the -stairs quickly, came into the presence of Signor -Sindaco out of breath, and asked, “Now, what do -you want with me?” -</p> - -<p> -Don Silla, a man of peaceable temperament, remained -for a moment somewhat taken aback by -the sharp voice of the laundress and turned a beseeching -look upon the faithful custodians of the -communal dignity. Then he took some tobacco -from a horn-box and said, “Be seated, my -daughter.” -</p> - -<p> -Candia remained upon her feet. Her hooked -nose was inflated with choler, and her cheeks, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> -roughly seamed, trembled from the contraction of -her tightly compressed jaws. -</p> - -<p> -“Speak quickly, Don Silla!” she cried. -</p> - -<p> -“You were occupied yesterday in carrying back -the clean linen to Donna Cristina Lamonica?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, and what of it? Is she missing something? -Everything was counted piece by piece -... nothing was lacking. Now, what is it all -about?” -</p> - -<p> -“One moment, my daughter! The room had -silver in it...!” -</p> - -<p> -Candia, divining the truth, turned upon him like -a viper about to sting. At the same time her -thin lips trembled. -</p> - -<p> -“The room had silver in it,” he continued, “and -now Donna Cristina finds herself lacking one -spoon. Do you understand, my daughter? Was -it taken by you ... through mistake?” -</p> - -<p> -Candia jumped like a grasshopper at this undeserved -accusation. In truth she had stolen -nothing. “Ah, I? I?” she cried. “Who says I -took it? Who has seen me in such an act? You -fill me with amazement ... you fill me with -wonder! Don Silla! I a thief? I? I?...” -</p> - -<p> -And her indignation had no limit. She was -even more wounded by this unjust accusation because -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> -she felt herself capable of the deed which -they had attributed to her. -</p> - -<p> -“Then you have not taken it?” Don Silla interrupted, -withdrawing prudently into the depths -of his large chair. -</p> - -<p> -“You fill me with amazement!” Candia chided -afresh, while she shook her long hands as if they -were two whips. -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, you may go. We will see in -time.” Without saying good-bye, Candia made her -exit, striking against the door-post as she did so. -She had become green in the face and was beside -herself with rage. On reaching the street and seeing -the crowd assembled there, she understood at -length that popular opinion was against her, that -no one believed in her innocence. Nevertheless -she began publicly to exculpate herself. The people -laughed and drifted away from her. In a -wrathful state of mind she returned home, sank -into a condition of despair and fell to weeping in -her doorway. -</p> - -<p> -Don Donato Brandimarte, who lived next door, -said to her by way of a joke: -</p> - -<p> -“Cry aloud, Candia. Cry to the full extent of -your strength, for the people are about to pass -now.” -</p> - -<p> -As there were clothes lying in a heap waiting -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> -to be boiled clean she finally grew quiet, bared -her arms and set herself to work. While working, -she brooded on how to clear her character, -constructed a method of defence, sought in her -cunning, feminine thoughts an artificial means for -proving her innocence; balancing her mind subtly -in mid-air, she had recourse to all of those expedients -which constitute an ignorant argument, -in order to present a defence that might persuade -the incredulous. -</p> - -<p> -Later, when she had finished her task, she went -out and went first to Donna Cristina. -</p> - -<p> -Donna Cristina would not see her. Maria -Bisaccia listened to Candia’s prolific words and -shook her head without reply and at length left -her in a dignified way. -</p> - -<p> -Then Candia visited all of her customers. To -each one she told her story, to each one she laid -bare her defence, always adding to it a new argument, -ever increasing the size of the words, becoming -more heated and finally despairing in the -presence of incredulity and distrust as all was -useless. She felt at last that an explanation was -no longer possible. A kind of dark discouragement -fastened upon her mind. What more could -she do! What more could she say! -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -</p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p> -Donna Cristina Lamonica, meanwhile, sent for -La Cinigia, a woman of the ignorant masses, who -followed the profession of magic and unscientific -medicine. Previously, La Cinigia had several -times discovered stolen goods and some said that -she had underhand dealings with the thieves. -</p> - -<p> -Donna Cristina said to her, “Recover the spoon -for me and I will give you a rich present.” -</p> - -<p> -La Cinigia answered, “Very well. Twenty-four -hours will suffice me.” And after twenty-four -hours she brought the news, “The spoon is -to be found in the court in a hole adjacent to the -sewer.” Donna Cristina and Maria descended to -the court, searched, and to their great astonishment -found the missing piece. -</p> - -<p> -The news spread rapidly throughout Pescara. -Then in triumph, Candia Marcanda immediately -began to frequent the streets. She seemed taller, -held her head more erect and smiled into the eyes -of everyone as if to say, “Now you have seen for -yourselves?” -</p> - -<p> -The people in the shops, when she passed by, -murmured something and then broke into laughter. -Filippo Selvi, who was drinking a glass of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> -brandy in the Café d’Angeladea, called to Candia, -“Over here is a glass waiting for Candia.” -</p> - -<p> -The woman, who loved ardent liquor, moved -her lips greedily. -</p> - -<p> -Filippo Selvi added, “And you are deserving -of it, there is no doubt of that.” -</p> - -<p> -A crowd of idlers had assembled before the -café. All wore a teasing expression upon their -countenances. Filippo La Selvi having turned to -his audience while the woman was drinking, -vouchsafed, “And she knew how to find it, did -she? The old fox....” -</p> - -<p> -He struck familiarly the bony shoulder of the -laundress by way of prelude. -</p> - -<p> -Everyone laughed. -</p> - -<p> -Magnafave, a small hunchback, defective in -body and speech and halting on the syllables, -cried: -</p> - -<p> -“Ca-ca-ca—Candia—a—and—Cinigia!” He -followed this with gesticulations and wary stutterings, -all of which implied that Candia and La -Cinigia were in league. At this the crowd became -convulsed with mirth. -</p> - -<p> -Candia remained dazed for a moment with the -glass in her hand. Then of a sudden she understood. -They still did not believe in her innocence. -They were accusing her of having secretly carried -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> -back the spoon, in agreement with the fortune-teller -as to the placing of it, in order to escape -disgrace. -</p> - -<p> -At this thought, the blind grip of rage seized -her. She could not find words for speech. She -threw herself upon the weakest of her tormentors, -which was the small hunchback, and belaboured -him with blows and scratches. The crowd, taking -a cruel pleasure in witnessing the scuffle, -cheered itself into a circle as if watching the struggle -of two animals, and encouraged both combatants -with cries and gesticulations. -</p> - -<p> -Magnafave, terrified by her unexpected madness, -sought to flee, dodging like a monkey; but, -detained by those terrible hands of the laundress, -he whirled with ever-increasing velocity, like a -stone from a sling, until at length he fell upon his -face with great violence. -</p> - -<p> -Several ran forward to raise him. Candia -withdrew in the midst of hisses, shut herself up -in her house, threw herself across her bed, weeping -and biting her fingers. This latest accusation -burnt into her more than the former, particularly -because she realised that she was capable of such -a subterfuge. How to disentangle herself now? -How make the truth clear? She grew desperate -on thinking that she could not bring to the aid of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> -her argument any material difficulties that might -have hindered the execution of such a deceit. Access -to the court was very easy; a never closed -door was on the first landing-place of a large -staircase and in order to dispose of waste matter -and to attend to other diverse duties, a quantity -of people passed freely in and out of that doorway. -Therefore she could not close the mouths -of her accusers by saying, “How could I have -got in there?” The means for accomplishing such -an undertaking were many and simple, and on this -very lack of obstacles popular opinion chose to -establish itself. -</p> - -<p> -Candia therefore sought different persuasive -arguments; she sharpened all her cunning, imagined -three, four, five separate circumstances -that might easily account for the finding of the -spoon in that hole; she took refuge in mental -turnings and twistings of every kind and subtilised -with singular ingenuity. Later she began to go -around from shop to shop, from house to house, -straining in every way to overcome the incredulity -of the people. -</p> - -<p> -At first they listened to her enticing arguments -for a diversion. At last they said, “Oh, very well! -Very well!” But with a certain inflection of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> -voice which left Candia crushed. All her efforts -then were useless. No one believed! -</p> - -<p> -With an astonishing persistency, she returned -to the siege. She passed entire nights pondering -on new reasons, how to construct new explanations, -to overcome new obstacles. Little by little, -from the continuous absorption, her mind weakened, -could not entertain any thought save that -of the spoon, and had scarcely any longer any -realisation of the events of every day life. Later, -through the cruelty of the people, a veritable -mania arose in the mind of the poor woman. -</p> - -<p> -She neglected her duties and was reduced almost -to penury. She washed the clothes badly, -lost and tore them. When she descended to the -bank of the river under the iron-bridge where the -other laundresses had collected, at times she let -escape from her hands garments which the current -snatched and they were gone forever. She -babbled continuously on the same subject. To -drown her out the young laundresses set themselves -to singing and to bantering one another -from their places with impromptu verses. She -shouted and gesticulated like a mad woman. -</p> - -<p> -No one any longer gave her work. Out of compassion -for her, her former customers sent her -food. Little by little the habit of begging settled -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> -upon her. She walked the streets, ragged, bent, -and dishevelled. Impertinent boys called after -her, “Now tell us the story of the spoon, that -we may know about it, do, Candia!” -</p> - -<p> -She stopped sometimes unknown passersby to -recount her story and to wander into the mazes -of her defence. The scapegoats of the town -hailed her and for a cent made her deliver her -narration three, four times; they raised objections -to her arguments and were attentive to the end of -the tale for the sake of wounding her at last with -a single word. She shook her head, moved on -and clung to other feminine beggars and reasoned -with them, always, always indefatigable and unconquerable. -She took a fancy to a deaf woman -whose skin was afflicted with a kind of reddish -leprosy, and who was lame in one leg. -</p> - -<p> -In the winter of 1874 a malignant fever seized -her. Donna Cristina Lamonica sent her a cordial -and a hand-warmer. The sick woman, -stretched on her straw pallet, still babbled about -the spoon. She raised on her elbows, tried to motion -with her hands in order to assist in the summing -up of her conclusions. The leprous woman -took her hands and gently soothed her. -</p> - -<p> -In her last throes, when her enlarged eyes were -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> -already being veiled behind some suffusing moisture -that had mounted to them from within, Candia -murmured, “I was not the one, Signor ... -you see ... because ... the spoon....” -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale10">X -<span class="smaller"><i>THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF OFENA</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p> -When the first confused clamour of the rebellion -reached Don Filippo Cassaura, he -suddenly opened his eyelids, that weighed heavily -upon his eyes, inflamed around the upturned lids, -like those of pirates who sail through stormy seas. -</p> - -<p> -“Did you hear?” he asked of Mazzagrogna, -who was standing nearby, while the trembling of -his voice betrayed his inward fear. -</p> - -<p> -The majordomo answered, smiling, “Do not be -afraid, Your Excellency. Today is St. Peter’s -day. The mowers are singing.” -</p> - -<p> -The old man remained listening, leaning on his -elbow and looking over the balcony. The hot -south wind was fluttering the curtains. The -swallows, in flocks, were darting back and forth -as rapidly as arrows through the burning air. All -the roofs of the houses below glared with reddish -and greyish tints. Beyond the roofs was extended -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span> -the vast, rich country, gold in colour, like ripened -wheat. -</p> - -<p> -Again the old man asked, “But Giovanni, -have you heard?” -</p> - -<p> -And indeed, clamours, which did not seem to -indicate joy, reached their ears. The wind, rendering -them louder at intervals, pushing them and -intermingling with its whistling noise, made them -appear still more strange. -</p> - -<p> -“Do not mind that, Your Excellency,” answered -Mazzagrogna. “Your ears deceive you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Keep quiet.” And he arose to go towards one -of the balconies. -</p> - -<p> -He was a thick-set man, bow-legged, with enormous -hands, covered with hair on the backs like -a beast. His eyes were oblique and white, like -those of the Albinos. His face was covered with -freckles. A few red hairs straggled upon his -temples and the bald top of his head was flecked -with dark projections in the shape of chestnuts. -</p> - -<p> -He remained standing for a while, between the -two curtains, inflated like sails, in order to watch -the plain beneath. Thick clouds of dust, rising -from the road of the Fara, as after the passing -of immense flocks of sheep, were swept by the -wind and grew into shapes of cyclones. From -time to time these whirling clouds caused whistling -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> -sounds, as if they encompassed armed -people. -</p> - -<p> -“Well?” asked Don Filippo, uneasily. -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing,” repeated Mazzagrogna, but his -brows were contracted. -</p> - -<p> -Again the impetuous rush of wind brought a -tumult of distant cries. -</p> - -<p> -One of the curtains, blown by the wind, began -to flutter and wave in the air like an inflated flag. -A door was suddenly shut with violence and noise, -the glass panel trembled from the shock. The -papers, accumulated upon the table, were scattered -around the room. -</p> - -<p> -“Do close it! Do close it!” cried the old man, -with emotional terror. -</p> - -<p> -“Where is my son?” -</p> - -<p> -He was lying upon the bed, suffocated by his -fleshiness, and unable to rise, as all the lower part -of his body was deadened by paralysis. A continuous -paralytic tremor agitated his muscles. -His hands, lying on the bed sheets, were contorted, -like the roots of old olive trees. A copious perspiration -dripped from his forehead and from his -bald head, and dropped from his large face, -which had a pinkish, faded colour, like the gall of -oxen. -</p> - -<p> -“Heavens!” murmured Mazzagrogna, between -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> -his teeth, as he closed the shutters vehemently. -“They are in earnest!” -</p> - -<p> -One could now perceive upon this road of Fara, -near the first house, a multitude of men, excited -and wavering, like the overflow of rivulets, which -indicated a still greater multitude of people, invisible, -hidden by the rows of roofs and by the -oak trees of San Pio. The auxiliary legion of -the country had met the one of the rebellion. -Little by little the crowd would diminish, entering -the roads of the country and disappearing like -an army of ants through the labyrinth of the ant -hill. -</p> - -<p> -The suffocated cries, echoing from house to -house, reached them now, like a continuous but -indistinct rumbling. At moments there was silence -and then you could hear the great fluttering of the -ash trees in front of the palace, which seemed as -if already abandoned. -</p> - -<p> -“My son! Where is he?” again asked the old -man, in a quivering, squeaking voice. “Call him! -I wish to see him.” -</p> - -<p> -He trembled upon his bed, not only because he -was a paralytic, but also because of fear. -</p> - -<p> -At the time of the first seditious movement of -the day before, at the cries of about a hundred -youths, who had come under the balcony to shout -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> -against the latest extortions of the Duke of Ofena, -he had been overcome by such a foolish fright, -that he had wept like a little girl, and had spent -the night invoking the Saints of Paradise. The -thought of death and of his danger gave rise to -an indescribable terror in that paralytic old man, -already half dead, in whom the last breaths of -life were so painful. He did not wish to die. -</p> - -<p> -“Luigi! Luigi!” he began to cry in his anguish. -</p> - -<p> -All the place was filled with the sharp rattling -of the window glasses, caused by the rush of the -wind. From time to time one could hear the -banging of a door, and the sound of precipitate -steps and sharp cries. -</p> - -<p> -“Luigi!” -</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p> -The Duke ran up. He was somewhat pale and -excited, although endeavouring to control himself. -He was tall and robust, his beard still black on his -heavy jaws. From his mouth, full and imperious, -came forth explosive outbursts; his voracious eyes -were troubled; his strong nose, covered with red -spots, quivered. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, then?” asked Don Filippo, breathlessly, -with a rattling sound, as though suffocated. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Do not fear, father, I am here,” answered the -Duke, approaching the bed and trying to smile. -</p> - -<p> -Mazzagrogna was standing in front of one of -the balconies, looking out attentively. No cries -reached them now and no one was to be seen. -</p> - -<p> -The sun, gradually descending in the clear sky, -was like a rosy circle of flames, enlarging and -glaring over the hill-tops. All the country around -seemed to burn and the southwest wind resembled -a breath from the fire. The first quarter of the -moon arose through the groves of Lisci. Poggio, -Revelli, Ricciano, Rocca of Forca, were seen -through the window panes, revealed by distant -flashes of lightning, and from time to time the -sound of bells could be heard. A few incendiary -fires began to glow here and there. The heat -was suffocating. -</p> - -<p> -“This,” said the Duke of Ofena, in his hoarse, -harsh voice, “comes from Scioli, but——” -</p> - -<p> -He made a menacing gesture, then he approached -Mazzagrogna. -</p> - -<p> -He felt uneasy, because Carletto Grua could -not yet be seen. He paced up and down the hall -with a heavy step. He then detached from a -hook two long, old-fashioned pistols, examining -them carefully. The father followed his every -movement with dilated eyes, breathing heavily, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> -like a calf in agony, and now and then he shook -the bed cover with his deformed hands. He -asked two or three times of Mazzagrogna, “What -can you see?” -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly Mazzagrogna exclaimed, “Here -comes Carletto, running with Gennaro.” -</p> - -<p> -You could hear, in fact, the furious blows upon -the large gate. Soon after, Carletto and the servant -entered the room, pale, frightened, stained -with blood and covered with dust. -</p> - -<p> -The Duke, on perceiving Carletto, uttered a -cry. He took him in his arms and began to feel -him all over his body, to find the wounds. -</p> - -<p> -“What have they done to you? What have -they done to you? Tell me!” -</p> - -<p> -The youth was weeping like a girl. -</p> - -<p> -“There,” said he, between his sobs. He lowered -his head and pointed on the top, to some -bunches of hair, sticking together with congealed -blood. -</p> - -<p> -The Duke passed his fingers softly through the -hair to discover the wounds. He loved Carletto -Grua, and had for him a lover’s solicitude. -</p> - -<p> -“Does it hurt you?” he asked. -</p> - -<p> -The youth sobbed more vehemently. He was -slender, like a girl, with an effeminate face, hardly -shaded by an incipient blond beard, his hair was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> -rather long, he had a beautiful mouth, and the -sharp voice of an eunuch. He was an orphan, -the son of a confectioner of Benevento. He acted -as valet to the Duke. -</p> - -<p> -“Now they are coming,” he said, his whole -frame trembling, turning his eyes, filled with tears, -towards the balcony, from which came the clamours, -louder and more terrible. -</p> - -<p> -The servant, who had a deep wound upon his -shoulder, and his arm up to the elbow all stained -with blood, was telling falteringly how they had -both been overtaken by the maddened mob, when -Mazzagrogna, who had remained watching, cried -out, “Here they are! They are coming to the -palace. They are armed!” -</p> - -<p> -Don Luigi, leaving Carletto, ran to look out. -</p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p> -In truth, a multitude of people, rushing up the -wide incline with such united fury, shouting and -shaking their weapons and their tools, did not resemble -a gathering of individuals, but rather the -overflow of a blind mass of matter, urged on by -an irresistible force. -</p> - -<p> -In a few moments, the mob was beneath the -palace, stretching around it like an octopus, with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> -many arms, and enclosing the whole edifice in a -surging circle. -</p> - -<p> -Some among the rebels carried large bunches -of lighted sticks, like torches, casting over their -faces a mobile, reddish light and scattering sparks -and burning cinders, which caused noisy, crackling -sounds. Some, in a compact group, were carrying -a pole, from the top of which hung the corpse of -a man. They were threatening death, with gestures -and cries. With hatred they were shouting -the name, “Cassaura! Cassaura!” -</p> - -<p> -The Duke of Ofena threw up his hands in despair -upon recognising on the top of the pole the -mutilated body of Vincenzio Murro, the messenger -he had sent during the night to ask for help -from the soldiers. He pointed out the hanging -body to Mazzagrogna, who said, in a low voice, -“It is the end!” -</p> - -<p> -Don Filippo, however, heard him, and began to -give forth such a rattling sound that they all felt -their hearts oppressed and their courage failing -them. -</p> - -<p> -The servants, with pale faces, ran to the -threshold, and were held there by cowardice. -Some were crying and invoking their Saints, while -others were contemplating treachery. “If we -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> -should give up our master to the people, they -might, perhaps, spare our lives.” -</p> - -<p> -“To the balcony! To the balcony!” cried the -people, breaking in. “To the balcony!” -</p> - -<p> -At this moment, the Duke spoke aside, in a -subdued voice, to Mazzagrogna. -</p> - -<p> -Turning to Don Filippo, he said, “Place yourself -in a chair, father; it will be better for you.” -</p> - -<p> -A slight murmur arose among the servants. -Two of them came forward to help the paralytic -to get out of bed. Two others stood near the -chair, which ran on rollers. The work was -painful. -</p> - -<p> -The corpulent old man was panting and lamenting -loudly, his arm clinging to the neck of -the servant who supported him. He was dripping -with perspiration, while the room, the shutters -being closed, was filled with an unbearable -stench. When he reached the chair, his feet began -to tap on the floor with a rhythmical motion. -His loose stomach hung on his knees, like a half -filled leather bag. -</p> - -<p> -Then the Duke said to Mazzagrogna, “Giovanni, -it is your turn!” -</p> - -<p> -And the latter, with a resolute gesture, opened -the shutters and went out onto the balcony. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> -</p> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<p> -A sonorous shouting greeted him. Five, ten, -twenty bundles of lighted sticks were simultaneously -thrust beneath the place where he was standing. -The glare illuminated the animated faces, -eager for carnage, the steel of the guns, the iron -axes. The faces of the torch-bearers were -sprinkled with flour, as a protection from the -sparks, and in the midst of their whitened faces -their reddish eyes shone singularly. The black -smoke arose in the air, fading away rapidly. The -flames whistled and, stretching up on one side, -were blown by the wind like infernal hair. The -thinnest and dryest reeds bent over quickly, reddening, -breaking down and cracking like sky-rockets. -It was a gay sight. -</p> - -<p> -“Mazzagrogna! Mazzagrogna! To death -with the seducer! To death with the crooked -man!” they all cried, crowding together to throw -insults at him. -</p> - -<p> -Mazzagrogna stretched out his hands, as -though to subdue the clamour; he gathered together -all his vocal force and began, in the name -of the king, as if promulgating a law to infuse -respect into the people. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“In the name of His Majesty, Ferdinando II, -and by the grace of God, King of both Sicilies, of -Jerusalem——” -</p> - -<p> -“To death with the thief!” -</p> - -<p> -Two or three shots resounded among the cries, -and the speaker, struck on his chest and on his -forehead, staggered, throwing his hands above -his head and falling downward. Upon falling, his -head stuck between two of the spikes of the iron -railing and hung over the edge like a pumpkin. -The blood began to drip down upon the soil -beneath. -</p> - -<p> -This spectacle rejoiced the people. The uproar -arose to the stars. Then the bearer of the pole -holding the hanging corpse came under the balcony -and held the body of Vincenzio Murro near -to that of the majordomo. The pole was wavering -in the air and the people, dumbfounded, -watched as the two bodies jolted together. An -improvised poet, alluding to the Albino-like eyes -of Mazzagrogna and to the bleared ones of -the messenger, shouted these lines: -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“<i>Lean over the window, you fried eyes,</i></p> -<p><i>That you may look upon the open skies!</i>”</p> -</div> - -<p> -A great outburst of laughter greeted the jest -of the poet and the laughter spread from mouth -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> -to mouth like the sound of water falling down a -stony valley. -</p> - -<p> -A rival poet shouted: -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“<i>Look, what a blind man can see!</i></p> -<p><i>If he closes his eyes and tries to flee.</i>”</p> -</div> - -<p> -The laughter was renewed. -</p> - -<p> -A third one cried out: -</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<p>“<i>Oh, face of a dead brute!</i></p> -<p><i>Your crazy hair stands resolute!</i>”</p> -</div> - -<p> -Many more imprecations were cast at Mazzagrogna. -A ferocious joy had invaded the hearts -of the people. The sight and smell of blood intoxicated -those nearest. Tomaso of Beffi and -Rocco Fuici challenged each other to hit with a -stone the hanging head of the dead man, which -was still warm, and at every blow moved and shed -blood. A stone, thrown by Rocco Fuici, at last, -hit it in the centre, causing a hollow sound. The -spectators applauded, but they had had enough of -Mazzagrogna. -</p> - -<p> -Again a cry arose, “Cassaura! Cassaura! To -death! To death!” -</p> - -<p> -Fabrizio and Ferdinandino Scioli, pushing -their way through the crowd, were instigating the -most zealous ones. A terrible shower of stones, -like a dense hailstorm, mingled with gun-shots, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> -beat against the windows of the palace, the window -panes falling upon the assailing hoards and the -stones rebounding. A few of the bystanders were -hurt. -</p> - -<p> -When they were through with the stones and -had used all their bullets, Ferdinandino Scioli -cried out, “Down with the doors!” -</p> - -<p> -And the cry, repeated from mouth to mouth, -shook every hope of salvation out of the Duke of -Ofena. -</p> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<p> -No one had dared to close the balcony, where -Mazzagrogna had fallen. His corpse was lying -in a contorted position. Then the rebels, in order -to be freer, had left the pole, holding the bleeding -body of the messenger, leaning against the -balcony. Some of his limbs had been cut off with -a hatchet, and the body could be seen through the -curtains as they were inflated by the wind. The -evening was still. The stars scintillated endlessly. -A few stubble fields were burning in the distance. -</p> - -<p> -Upon hearing the blows against the door the -Duke of Ofena wished to try another experiment. -</p> - -<p> -Don Filippo, stupefied with terror, kept his eyes -closed and was speechless. Carletto Grua, his -head bandaged, doubled up in the corner, his teeth -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> -chattering with fever and fear, watched with his -eyes sticking out of their orbits, every gesture, -every motion of his master. The servants had -found refuge in the garrets. A few of them still -remained in the adjoining rooms. -</p> - -<p> -Don Luigi gathered them together, reanimated -their courage and rearmed them with pistols and -guns, and then assigned to each one his place under -the parapets of the windows, and between the -shutters of the balcony. Each one had to shoot -upon the rebels with the greatest possible celerity, -silently, without exposing himself. -</p> - -<p> -“Forward!” -</p> - -<p> -The firing began. Don Luigi was placing his -hopes in a panic. He was untiringly discharging -his long-range pistols with most marvellous -energy. As the multitude was dense, no shot went -astray. The cries arising after every discharge -excited the servants and increased their ardour. -Already disorder invaded the mutineers. A great -many were running away, leaving the wounded -on the ground. -</p> - -<p> -Then a cry of victory arose from the group of -the domestics. -</p> - -<p> -“Long live the Duke of Ofena!” These -cowardly men were growing brave, as they beheld -the backs of their enemy. They no longer remained -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> -hidden, no longer shot at haphazard, but, -having risen to their feet, were aiming at the people. -And every time they saw a man fall, would -cry, “Long live the Duke!” -</p> - -<p> -Within a short time the palace was freed from -the siege. All around the wounded ones lay, -groaning. The residue of the sticks, which were -still burning over the ground and crackling as they -died out, cast upon the bodies uncertain flashes of -light reflected in the pools of blood. The wind -had grown, striking the old oaks with a creeping -sound. The barking of dogs, answering one another, -resounded throughout the valley. -</p> - -<p> -Intoxicated by their victory and broken down -with fatigue, the domestics went downstairs to -partake of some refreshments. They were all unhurt. -They drank freely and abundantly. Some -of them announced the names of those they had -struck, and described the way they had fallen. -The cook was boasting of having killed the terrible -Rocco Furci; and as they became excited by the -wine the boasting increased. -</p> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<p> -Now, while the Duke of Ofena feeling safe, for -at least that night, from any danger, was attending -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> -the whining Carletto, a glare of light from -the south was reflected in the mirror, and new -clamours arose through the gusts of the south wind -beneath the palace. At the same time four or five -servants appeared, who, while sleeping, intoxicated, -in the rooms below, had been almost suffocated -by the smoke. They had not yet recovered -their senses, staggering, being unable to talk, as -their tongues were thick with drink. Others came -running up, shouting: -</p> - -<p> -“Fire! Fire!” -</p> - -<p> -They were trembling, leaning against one another -like a herd of sheep. Their native cowardice -had again overtaken them. All their senses were -dull as in a dream. They did not know what they -ought to do, nor did the consciousness of real -danger urge them to use a ruse as a means of -escape. -</p> - -<p> -Taken very much by surprise the Duke was at -first perplexed. But Carletto Grua, noticing the -smoke coming in, and hearing that singular roar -which the flames make by feeding themselves, began -to cry so loudly, and to make such maddened -gestures, that Don Filippo awoke from the half -drowsiness into which he had fallen, on beholding -death. -</p> - -<p> -Death was unavoidable. The fire, owing to the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> -strong wind, was spreading with stupendous speed -through the whole edifice, devouring everything in -flames. These flames ran up the walls, hugging -the tapestries, hesitating an instant over the edge -of the cloth, with clear and changeable yet vague -tints penetrating through the weave, with a thousand -thin, vibrating tongues, seeming to animate, -in an instant, the mural figures, with a certain -spirit, by lighting up for a second a smile never -before seen upon the mouths of the nymphs and -the Goddess, by changing in an instant their attitudes -and their motionless gestures. -</p> - -<p> -Passing on, in their still increasing flight, they -would wrap themselves around the wooden carvings, -preserving to the last their shapes, as though -to make them appear to be manufactured of fiery -substance when they were suddenly consumed, -turning to Cinders, as if by magic. The voices of -the flames were forming a vast choir, a profound -harmony, like the rustling of millions of weeds. -At intervals, through the roaring openings, appeared -the pure sky with its galaxy of stars. -</p> - -<p> -Now the entire palace was a prey of the fire. -</p> - -<p> -“Save me! Save me!” cried the old man, attempting -in vain to get up, already feeling the -floor sinking beneath him, and almost blinded by -the implacable reddish glare. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Save me! Save me!” -</p> - -<p> -With a supreme effort he succeeded in rising -and began to run, the trunk of his body leaning -forward, moving with little hopping steps, as if -pushed by an irresistible progressive impulse, -waving his shapeless hands, until he fell overpowered—the -victim of the fire—collapsing and -curling up like an empty bladder. -</p> - -<p> -By this time the cries of the people increased -and at intervals arose above the roar of the fire. -The servants, crazed with terror and pain, jumped -out of the windows, falling upon the ground dead, -where if not entirely dead they were instantly -killed. With every fall a greater clamour arose. -</p> - -<p> -“The Duke! The Duke!” the unsatisfied barbarians -were crying as if they wanted to see the -little tyrant jump out with his cowardly protégé. -</p> - -<p> -“Here he comes! Here he comes! Is it he?” -</p> - -<p> -“Down! down! We want you!” -</p> - -<p> -“Die, you dog! Die! Die! Die!” -</p> - -<p> -In the large doorway, in the presence of the -people, Don Luigi appeared carrying on his shoulders -the motionless body of Carletto Grua. His -whole face was burned and almost unrecognisable. -He no longer had any hair nor beard left. He -was walking boldly through the fire, endeavouring -to keep his courage in spite of that atrocious pain. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> -</p> - -<p> -At first the crowd was dumb. Then again broke -forth in shouts and gestures, waiting ferociously -for this great victim to expire before them. -</p> - -<p> -“Here, here, you dog! We want to see you -die!” -</p> - -<p> -Don Luigi heard through the flames these last -insults. He gathered together all of his will-power -and stood for an instant in an attitude of indescribable -scorn. Then turning abruptly he disappeared -forever where the fire was raging fiercest. -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale11">XI -<span class="smaller"><i>THE WAR OF THE BRIDGE</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="center large"> -<i>Fragments of the Pescarese Chronicle</i> -</p> - -<p class="pad2"> -Towards the middle of August—when in -the fields the wheat was bleaching dry in the -sun—Antonio Mengarino, an old peasant full of -probity and wisdom, standing before the Board -of the Council when they were discussing public -matters, heard some of the councillors, citizens of -the place, discoursing in low tones about the -cholera, which was spreading through the -province; and he listened with close attention to -the proposals for preserving the health and for -eliminating the fears of the people and he leaned -forward curiously and incredulously as he listened. -</p> - -<p> -With him in the Council were two other -peasants, Giulio Citrullo of the Plain, and Achille -di Russo of the Hills, to whom the old man would -turn from time to time, winking and grimacing -insinuatingly, to warn them of the deception which -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> -he believed was concealed in the words of the -Councillors and the Mayor. -</p> - -<p> -At last, unable to restrain himself longer, he -spoke out with the assurance of a man who knows -and sees. -</p> - -<p> -“Stop your idle talk! What if there is a little -cholera among us. Let us keep the secret to ourselves.” -</p> - -<p> -At this unexpected outburst, the Councillors -were taken by surprise, then burst into laughter. -</p> - -<p> -“Go on, Mengarino! What foolishness are -you talking!” exclaimed Don Aiace, the Assessor, -slapping the old man on the shoulder, while the -rest, with much shaking of heads and beating of -fists upon the table, talked of the pertinacious -ignorance of the country people. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, well, but do you think we are deceived -by your talk?” asked Antonio Mengarino, with a -quick gesture, hurt by the laughter which his words -had created, and in the hearts of the three -peasants their instinctive hostility toward and -hatred of the upper classes were revived. Then -they were excluded from the secrets of the Council? -Then they were still considered ignoramuses? -Oh, those were two galling thoughts! -</p> - -<p> -“Do as you please. We are going,” said the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> -old man bitterly, putting on his hat and the three -peasants left the hall in silent dignity. -</p> - -<p> -When they were outside the town, in the upland -country filled with vineyards and cornfields, Giulio -Citrullo stopped to light his pipe, and said decisively: -</p> - -<p> -“We will not mind them! We can be on our -guard, and know that we shall have to take precautions. -I would not like to be in their places!” -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile, throughout the farming country, -the fear of the disease had taken possession of all. -Over the fruit trees, the vineyards, the cisterns, -and the wells, the farmers, suspicious and threatening, -kept close and indefatigable watch. -Through the night frequent shots broke the silence, -and even the dogs barked till dawn. Imprecations -against the Government burst forth with greater -violence from day to day. All the peaceful labours -of the farm-hands were undertaken with a sort -of carelessness; from the fields expressions of rebellion -rose in songs and rhymes, improvised by -the hands. -</p> - -<p> -Then, the old men recalled instances in the past -which confirmed the suspicions about poisoning. -In the year ’54, some vintagers had one day -caught a man hidden in the top of a fig-tree, and -when they forced him to descend, they noticed in -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> -his hand a vial, which he had attempted to conceal. -With dire threats they compelled him to -swallow the yellowish ointment which it contained, -whereupon shortly he fell writhing in agony with -greenish foam issuing from his mouth and died -within a few minutes. In Spoltore, in the year ’57, -Zinicche, a blacksmith, killed the Chancellor, Don -Antonio Rapino, in the square, after which the -mysterious deaths ceased, and the country was -saved. -</p> - -<p> -Then stories began to be circulated of recent -mysterious happenings. One woman said that -seven cases of poison had come to the City Hall, -sent by the Government to be distributed through -the country by mixing it with the salt. The cases -were green, fastened with iron bands and three -locks. The Mayor had been obliged to pay seven -thousand ducats to bury the cases and save the -country. Another story went about that the Government -paid the Mayor five ducats for every -dead person because the population was too large, -and it was the poor who must die. The Mayor -was now making out a list of those selected. Ha! -He would get rich, this great signore! And so -the excitement grew. The peasants would not -buy anything in the market of Pescara; the figs -were left to rot on the trees; the grapes were left -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> -among the vine-leaves; even the nightly depredations -in the orchards and vineyards did not occur, -for the robbers feared to eat poisoned fruit. -The salt, which was the only provision obtained -from the city stores, was given to dogs and cats -before being used, to make sure that it was harmless. -</p> - -<p> -One day the news came that in Naples the -people were dying in large numbers and hearing -the name of Naples, of that great, far-distant -kingdom where “Gianni Without Fear” made his -fortune, the imaginations of the people were inflamed. -The vintage time came, but the merchants -of Lombardy bought the home grapes, and -took them to the north to make artificial wines. -The luxury of new wine was scarce; the vintagers -who trampled out the juice of the grapes in the -vats to the songs of maidens, had little to do. -</p> - -<p> -But when the work of the vineyards was ended, -and the fruit of the trees was gone, the fears and -suspicions of the people grew less, for now there -was little chance for the Government to scatter -the poison. Heavy, beneficent rains fell upon the -country, drenching the soil and preparing it for -the ploughing and the sowing, and together with -the favour of the soft autumnal sun and the moon -in its first quarter, had its beneficent influence upon -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> -seeds. One morning through all the country the -report was spread that at Villareale, near the oak -groves of Don Settimio, over the shore of the -river, three women had died after having eaten -soup made from dough bought in the city. -The indignation of every person in the country -was aroused, and with greater vehemence after -the quiet of the transient security. -</p> - -<p> -“Aha! That is well! The ‘great Signore’ does -not wish to renounce the ducats!... But they -cannot harm us now, for there is no more fruit to -eat, and we do not go to Pescara. The ‘great -Signore’ is playing his cards very badly. He -wishes to see us die! But he has mistaken the -time, poor Signore! -</p> - -<p> -“Where can he put the poison? In the dough? -In the salt?... But we shall not eat any more -dough, and we have our salt first tried by the dogs -and cats. Ha, rascally Signore! What have you -done? Your day will come, too....” -</p> - -<p> -Thus, everywhere the grumbling rose, mixed -with mocking and contumely against the men of -the Commune and the Government. -</p> - -<p> -In Pescara, one after another, three, four, five -persons were taken with the disease. Evening -was approaching, and over the houses hung a -funereal dread, which seemed to be mingled with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> -the dampness arising from the river. Through -the streets the people ran frantically towards the -City Hall, where the Mayor, the Councillors, and -the gendarmes, overwhelmed with the miserable -confusion, ran up and down the stairs, all talking -loudly, giving contrary orders, not knowing -what action to take, where to go, nor what to do. -</p> - -<p> -The strange occurrence and the excitement -which followed it, caused many of the people to -grow slightly ill. Feeling a strange sensation in -their stomachs, they would begin to tremble, and -with chattering teeth would look into one another’s -faces; then, with rapid strides, would -hasten to lock themselves in their homes, leaving -their evening meals untouched. -</p> - -<p> -Then, late in the night, when the first tumult of -the panic had subsided, the police lighted fires of -sulphur and tar at the corners of the streets. The -red flames lighted up the walls and the windows, -and the unpleasant odour of manure pervaded the -air of the frightened city, and in the light of the -distant moon, it looked as though the tar men -were merrily smearing the keels of vessels. Thus -did the Asiatic Plague make an entrance into -Pescara. -</p> - -<p> -The disease, creeping along the river, spread -through the little seashore hamlets,—through -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> -those groups of small, low houses where the sailors -live, and where old men are engaged in small industries. -</p> - -<p> -Most of those seized with the disease died, because -no amount of reasoning and assurance, or -experiments, could persuade them to take the -medicine. Anisafine, the hunchback who sold -water mixed with spirit of anise to the soldiers, -when he saw the glass of the physician, closed his -lips tightly and shook his head in refusal of the -potion. The doctor tried to coax him with -persuasive words and first drank half the liquid, -then the assistants each took a sip. Anisafine continued -to shake his head. -</p> - -<p> -“But don’t you see,” exclaimed the doctor, “we -have been drinking? But you....” -</p> - -<p> -Anisafine began to laugh sceptically, “Ha! ha! -ha! You took the counter-poison,” he said, and -soon after he was dead. -</p> - -<p> -Cianchine, simple-minded butcher, did the same -thing. The doctor, as a last resort, poured the -medicine between the man’s teeth. Cianchine spit -it out wrathfully, overwhelmed with horror. Then -he began to abuse those present, and died raging, -held by two amazed gendarmes. -</p> - -<p> -The public kitchens, instituted by charitably-disposed -people, were at first thought by the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> -peasants to be laboratories for the mixing of -poisons. The beggars would starve rather than -eat meat cooked in those boilers. Costantino di -Corropoli, the cynic, went about scattering his -doubts through his circle. He would wander -around the kitchens, saying aloud with an indescribable -gesture, “You can’t entrap me!” -</p> - -<p> -The woman Catalana di Gissi was the first to -conquer her fears. Hesitating a little, she entered -and ate a small mouthful, waiting to notice the -effect of the food and then took a few sips of wine, -whereupon, feeling restored and fortified, she -smiled with astonishment and pleasure. All the -beggars were waiting for her to come out and -when they saw her unharmed, they rushed in to -eat and drink. -</p> - -<p> -The kitchens are inside an old open theatre in -the neighbourhood of Portanova. The kettles in -which the food is prepared are placed where the -orchestra used to sit. The steam from them rises -and fills the old stage; through the smoke you see -the scenery behind on the stage, representing a -feudal castle in the light of the full moon. Here -at noon-time gathers around a rustic table the tribe -of the beggars. Before the hour strikes, there is -a swarming of multi-coloured rags in the pit, and -there arises the grumbling of hoarse voices. Some -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span> -new figures appear among the well-known ones; -noteworthy among whom is a certain woman called -Liberata Lotta di Montenerodomo, stupendous as -the mythological Minerva, with a regular and -austere brow and with her hair strained tightly -over her head and adhering to it like a helmet. -She holds in her hands a grass-green vase, and -stands aside, taciturn, waiting to be asked to partake. -</p> - -<p> -However, the great epic account of this chronicle -of the cholera is the War of the Bridge. -</p> - -<p> -An old feud exists between Pescara and Castellammare -Adriatico, which districts lie on either -side of the river. -</p> - -<p> -The opposing factions were assiduously engaged -in pillage and reprisals, the one doing all -that lay in its power to hinder the prosperity of -the other, and as the important factor in the prosperity -of a country is its commerce, and as Pescara -possessed many industries and great wealth, the -people of Castellammare had long sought with -much astuteness and all manner of allurements to -draw the merchants away from the rival town. -</p> - -<p> -An old wooden bridge, built on big tarred boats -chained together and fastened to the piers, spans -the river. The cables and the ropes, which stretch -from almost the height of the piers to the low -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span> -parapets, cross each other in the air, looking like -some barbaric instrument. The uneven boards -creak under the weight of the wagons, and when -the ranks of the soldiers pass over, the whole of -the great structure shakes and vibrates from one -end to the other, resounding like a drum. It was -from this bridge that the popular legends of Saint -Cetteo, the Liberator, originated, and the saint -yearly stops in the centre with great Catholic pomp -to receive the salutes which the sailors send him -from the anchored boats. -</p> - -<p> -Thus, between the panorama of Montecorno -and the sea, the humble structure looms up like -a monument of the country, and possessing the -sacredness of all monuments, gives to strangers -the impression of a people who live in primeval -simplicity. As the hatred between the Pescarese -and the Castellammarese meets on this bridge, the -boards of which are worn under the daily heavy -traffic, and as the trade of the city spreads to the -province of Teramo, with what joy would the opposing -faction cut the cables and push out to sea -to be wrecked the seven supporting boats. -</p> - -<p> -A good opportunity having presented itself, the -leader of the enemy, with a great display of his -rural forces, prevented the Pescarese from passing -over the wide road which stretches out from -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> -the bridge far across the country, uniting numberless -villages. It was his intention to blockade the -rival city by a siege, in order to shut away from -it all internal and external traffic in order to draw -to the market of his own city the sailors and buyers -who were accustomed to trade on the right -shore of the river, and having thus stagnated the -business of Pescara, and having cut off from the -town all source of revenue, to rise up in triumph. -He offered to the owners of the Pescarese boats -twenty francs for every hundred pounds of fish, -on condition that all boats should land and load -their cargoes on his shore, and with the stipulation -that the price should last up to the day of the -Nativity of Christ. But as the price of fish usually -rose shortly before the Nativity to fifteen ducats -for every hundred pounds, the profit to himself -was evident, and the cunning of his scheme was -clearly revealed. The owners refused such an offer, -preferring to allow their nets to remain idle. -</p> - -<p> -Then the wily fellow spread the report of a -great mortality in Pescara. Professing friendship -for the province of Teramo he succeeded in rousing -both that province and Chieti against the -peaceful city, from which the plague had really disappeared -entirely. He waylaid and kept prisoners -some honest passers-by who were exercising their -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> -legitimate right to pass along this road on their -way to a more distant part of the country. He -stationed a group of loafers on the border line -who kept watch from dawn to sunset, shouting out -warnings to anyone who approached. All this -caused violent rebellion on the part of the -Pescarese against such unjust and arbitrary measures. -The great class of rough, ugly labourers -were lounging about in idleness, and merchants -sustained severe losses from the enforced dulness -of trade. The cholera had left the city and seemed -to have disappeared also from the seashore towns, -where only a few decrepit old men had died. All -the citizens, rugged and full of health and spirits, -would have rejoiced to take up their customary -labours. -</p> - -<p> -Then the tribunes rose to action: Francesco -Pomarice, Antonio Sorrentino, Pietro D’Amico; -and in the streets the people, divided into groups, -listened to their words, applauding, proposing, -and uttering cries. A great tumult was brewing. -As an illustration, some recounted the heart-rending -tale of Moretto di Claudia, who had been -taken by force, by men paid to do the deed, and -being imprisoned in the Lazzaretto, was kept for -five consecutive days without other food than -bread, at the end of which time he succeeded in -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> -escaping from a window, swam across the river, -and came to his people dripping with water, out -of breath, and overcome with exultation and joy -at his escape. -</p> - -<p> -The Mayor, seeing the storm gathering, endeavoured -to arbitrate with the Great Enemy of -Castellammare. The Mayor is a little fellow, a -knighted Doctor of Law, carefully dressed, curly -haired, his shoulders covered with dandruff, his -small roving eyes accustomed to pleasant simulation. -The Great Enemy is a degenerate, a nephew -of the good Gargantuasso, a big fellow, puffing, -exploding, devouring. The meeting of the two -took place on neutral ground, with the Prefects of -Teramo and of Chieti as witnesses. -</p> - -<p> -But towards sunset one of the guards went into -Pescara to bring a message to one of the councillors -of the Commune; he went in with another of -the loafers to drink, after which he strolled about -the streets. When the tribunes saw him, they immediately -gave chase. With cries and shouts, he -was driven towards the banks of the river as far -as Lazzaretto. The water glared in the light of -the setting sun, and the belligerent reddening of -the air intoxicated the people. -</p> - -<p> -Then from the willow trees on the opposite -shore a crowd of Castellammarese poured out, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> -with vehement gestures and angry protests against -the outrage. With a fury equalling their own, the -Pescarese answered their gibes. The guard, who -had been imprisoned, was pounding the door of his -prison with fists and feet, crying out: -</p> - -<p> -“Open to me! Open to me!” -</p> - -<p> -“You go to sleep in there and don’t worry!” -the men called to him scornfully, while someone -cruelly added: -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, if you knew how many have been killed -down there! Don’t you smell the blood? Doesn’t -it make you sick?” -</p> - -<p> -“Hurrah! Hurrah!” -</p> - -<p> -Towards Bandiera the gleam of gun-barrels -could be seen. The little Mayor, at the head of -a band of soldiers, was coming to liberate the -guard that the wrath of the Great Enemy might -not be incurred. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly the irritated rabble broke out in an -angry uproar. Loud cries rose against the -cowardly liberator of the Castellammarese. From -Lazzaretto to the city sounded the clamour of -hisses and contumely. To the delight of the people -the shouting lasted until their voices grew hoarse. -After the first outburst the revolt began to turn -in other directions. The shops were all closed, -the citizens gathered in the street, rich and poor -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> -mingling together familiarly, all possessed of the -same wild desire to speak, to shout, to gesticulate, -to express in a thousand different ways the feelings -which burned within them. -</p> - -<p> -Every few minutes another tribune would arrive -with fresh news. Groups dissolved to form -new groups, varying according to differences of -opinion. -</p> - -<p> -The free spirit of the day affected everyone; -every breath of air seemed to intoxicate like a -draught of wine, the hilarity of the Pescarese revived, -and they continued their rebellion ironically -for pure enjoyment, for spite, and for the love of -novelty. The stratagems of the Great Enemy -were increased. Any agreement was broken to -further the skilful schemes which were suggested, -and the weakness of the little Mayor favoured -this method of procedure. -</p> - -<p> -On the morning of All Souls’ Day at about -seven o’clock, when the first ceremonies were being -performed in the churches, the tribunes started -to make a tour of the city, followed by a crowd -which grew larger at every step, and became more -and more clamorous. When all the people had -gathered, Antonio Sorrentino addressed them in -a stirring harangue. Then the procession proceeded -in an orderly way towards the City Hall. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> -The streets in the shadows were still bluish from -smoke; the houses were bathed in sunlight. -</p> - -<p> -At the sight of the City Hall an immense cry -broke out. From every mouth vituperations were -hurled; every fist rose threateningly. The shouts -vibrated at intervals as though produced by an -instrument, and above the confused mass of heads -the vermilion flags waved as if agitated by a -heavy popular breath. No one appeared upon the -balcony of the City Hall. The sun was gradually -descending from the roof to the meridian sand, -black with figures and lines, upon which vibrated -the indicating shadow. From the Torretta of the -D’Annunzio to the bell-tower of the Abbey, flocks -of doves were flying against the azure sky. -</p> - -<p> -The shouts increased. A number of the more -zealous ones took by assault the stairs of the building. -The little Mayor, pallid and timid, yielded -to the wish of the people. He left his seat in the -City Hall, resigned his office, and passed down -the street between two gendarmes, followed by -the whole Board of Councillors. He then left the -city and withdrew to the hall of Spoltore. -</p> - -<p> -The doors of the City Hall were closed and for -a time Anarchy ruled the city. In order to prevent -an open battle, which seemed imminent, between -the Castellammarese and the Pescarese, the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> -soldiers stationed themselves at the extreme left -end of the bridge. Having torn down the flags, -the crowd set out for the road to Chieti, where the -Prefect, who had been summoned by a Royal Commissary, -was expected. All their plans seemed to -be ferocious. However, in the soft warmth of the -sunlight, their ire was soon decreased. -</p> - -<p> -Through the wide street poured forth from the -church the women of the place, dressed in various -coloured gowns, and covered with jewelry consisting -mostly of silver filigree and gold necklaces. -The appearance of these happy and joyful faces -quieted and soothed the turbulent spirits of the -mob. Jests and laughter broke forth spontaneously, -and the short period of waiting was almost gay. -Towards noon the carriage of the Prefect came in -sight. The people formed themselves in a semicircle -to stop its passage. Antonio Sorrentino -again gave a harangue, not without a certain -flowery eloquence. The crowd, in the pauses of -the speech, asked in various ways for justice and -relief from the abuses, and that no measure should -be taken which would involve killing. -</p> - -<p> -The two large skeletons of horses, still animated, -however, shook their bells from time to -time, showing the rebels their white gums as if in -a grimace of derision. A delegate of the police, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> -looking like an old singer of some comic opera, -who still wore around his face a druid beard, -from the height of the back seat was emphasising -the words of the tribune’s speech with grave gestures -of his hand. As the speaker in his enthusiasm -went on with impetuous eloquence, he became too -audacious, and the Prefect, rising from his seat, -took advantage of the moment to interrupt. He -ventured several irrelevant and timid remarks, -which were drowned by the cries of the people. -</p> - -<p> -“To Pescara! To Pescara!” -</p> - -<p> -The carriage, pushed along by the press of the -crowd, entered the city and the City Hall being -closed, it stopped before the Delegation. Ten -men, named by the people, together with the Prefect, -formed a temporary parliament. The crowd -filled the street and every now and then an impatient -murmur arose. -</p> - -<p> -The houses, heated by the sun, radiated a delightful -warmth, and an indescribable mildness -emanated from the sky and sea, from the floating -vegetation alongside the water-troughs, from the -roses, from the windows, from the white walls of -the houses, from the very air of the place itself. -This place is renowned as the home of the most -beautiful women of Pescara, from generation to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> -generation its fame for its beauties has been perpetuated. -</p> - -<p> -The home of Don Ussorio is the abode of -flourishing children and pretty girls; the house is -all covered with little loggias, which are overflowing -with carnations growing in rough vases -ornamented with bas-reliefs. -</p> - -<p> -Gradually the impatient crowd grew quiet. -From one end of the street to the other the speakers -were subsiding. Domenico di Matteo, a sort -of rustic Rodomonte, was making loud jests upon -the asininity and avidity of the doctors who cause -their patients to die in order to get a larger fee -from the Commune. He was telling of some -marvellous cures he had effected on himself. Once -he had a terrible pain on his chest, and was about -to die. The physician had forbidden him to drink -water, and he was burning with thirst. One night, -when everyone was asleep he got up quietly, felt -about for a water tank, and having found it, stuck -his head in it and drank like a pack horse until the -tank was empty. Next morning he had entirely recovered. -Another time, he and a companion, having -been ill for a long time with intermittent fever, -and having taken large quantities of quinine without -avail, decided to make an experiment. Across -the river from them was a vineyard filled with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> -grapes, hanging ripe and delicious in the sun. Going -to the shore, they undressed themselves, -plunged into the water, and swam through the current -to the other shore, and after having eaten as -many grapes as they could, swam back again. The -intermittent fever disappeared. Another time he -was ill with blood poisoning, and spent more than -fifteen ducats for doctors and medicine in vain. -As he watched his mother doing the washing, a -happy thought struck him. One after another he -swallowed five glasses of lime-water, and was -cured. -</p> - -<p> -From the balconies, from the windows, from -the loggias, a number of beautiful women leaned -out, one after another. The men in the street -raised their eyes towards these fair apparitions, -walking along with heads bent backward. As the -dinner hour was passed, they felt a certain dizziness -in their heads and their stomachs, and an -awakening faintness. Brief talks between street -and windows took place, the young men making -gestures and little speeches to the belles, the belles -answering with motions of their hands or shakes -of their heads, or sometimes by laughing aloud. -Their fresh laughter poured out on the men below -like strings of crystals, increasing their admiration. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span> -The heat given out by the walls of the -houses mingled with the heat of the bodies of the -crowd. The whitish reflection dazzled the eyes; -something enervating and stupefying seemed to -descend upon the restless mob. Suddenly upon the -loggia appeared the woman Ciccarina, the belle of -the belles, the rose of the roses, the adorable object -whom all desired. With a common impulse, -every look was turned towards her. She acknowledged -this homage with triumphant smiles, laughing, -radiant, like a Venetian Dogess before her -people. The sunlight fell on her full flushed face, -reminding one of the pulp of a succulent fruit. -Her loose hair, so bright that it seemed to dart -golden flames, encircled her forehead, temples and -neck. The fascination of a Venus emanated from -her whole person. She simply stood there, between -two cages of black birds, smiling in great -unconcern, not at all troubled by the longing and -admiration shown in the eyes of all the men watching -her. -</p> - -<p> -The black birds, singing a sort of rustic madrigal, -fluttered their wings towards her. Ciccarina, smiling, -withdrew from the loggia. The crowd remained -in the street, dazzled by the vision, and a -little dizzy from hunger. Then one of the speakers, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> -leaning out from the window of the Delegation, -announced in a shrill voice: -</p> - -<p> -“Citizens! The matter will be settled within -three hours!” -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> -</p> - -<h2 id="tale12">XII -<span class="smaller"><i>THE VIRGIN ANNA</i></span></h2> -</div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p> -Luca Minella, born in the year 1789 at -Ortona in one of the houses of Porta Caldara, -was a seaman. In early youth he sailed for some -time on the brigantine <i>Santa Liberata</i>, from the -bay of Ortona to the ports of Dalmatia, loaded -with varieties of wood, fresh and dried fruit. -Later, because of a whim to change masters, he -entered the service of Don Rocco Panzavacante, -and upon a new skiff made many voyages for the -purpose of trading in lemons, to the promontory -of Roto, which is a large and agreeable elevation -on the Italian coast, wholly covered with orchards -of oranges and lemons. -</p> - -<p> -In his twenty-seventh year he kindled with love -for Francesca Nobile, and after several months -they were married. Luca, a man of short and very -strong build, had a soft blond beard upon his -flushed visage, and, like a woman, wore two circles -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> -of gold in his ears. He loved wine and tobacco; -professed an ardent devotion for the holy Apostle -Saint Thomas; and, in that he was of a superstitious -nature and given to trances, he recounted -singular and marvellous adventures of those foreign -countries and told stories of the Dalmatian -people and the islands of the Adriatic as if they -were tribes and countries in the proximity of the -poles. Francesca, a woman whose youth was on -the wane, had the florid complexion and mobile -features of the Ortonesian girl. She loved the -church, the religious functions, the sacred pomp, -the music of the organ; she lived in great simplicity; -and, since she was somewhat stunted in intelligence, -believed the most incredible things and -praised her Lord in His every deed. -</p> - -<p> -Of this union Anna was born in the month of -June of the year 1817. Inasmuch as the confinement -was severe, and they feared some misfortune, -the sacrament of baptism was administered before -the birth of the child. After much travail the birth -took place. The little creature drank nourishment -from its mother and grew in health and -happiness. Toward evening Francesca went down -to the seacoast, with the nursing baby in her arms, -whenever she expected the skiff to return loaded -from Roto, and Luca on coming ashore wore a -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span> -shirt all scented with the southern fruits. When -mounting together to their home above, they always -stopped a moment at the church and knelt -in prayer. In the chapels the votive lamps were -burning, and in the background, behind the seven -bronzes, the statue of the Apostle sparkled like a -treasure. Their prayers asked for celestial benediction -to fall upon their daughter. On going out, -when the mother bathed Anna’s forehead in holy -water, her infantile screams echoed the length of -the naves. -</p> - -<p> -The infancy of Anna passed smoothly, without -any noteworthy event. In May of 1823 she was -dressed as a cherub, with a crown of roses and a -white veil; and, in the midst of an angelical company, -confusedly followed a procession, holding in -her hand a thin taper. In the church her mother -wished to lift her in her arms and have her kiss -her protecting Saint. But, as other mothers lifting -other cherubs pushed through the crowd, the flame -of one of the tapers caught Anna’s veil and suddenly -a flame enveloped her tender body. A contagion -of fear spread among the people and each -one strove to be the first to escape. Francesca, for -all that her hands were almost rendered useless -by terror, succeeded in tearing off the burning garments, -strained the nude and unconscious child to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span> -her heart, threw herself down behind the fugitives, -and invoked her Lord with loud cries. -</p> - -<p> -From the burns Anna was ill and in peril for -a long time. She lay upon her bed with thin, -bloodless face and without speech as if she had -become mute, while her eyes, open and fixed, held -an expression of forgetful stupor rather than of -pain. In the autumn she recovered and went to -take her vow. -</p> - -<p> -When the weather was mild the family descended -to the boat for their evening meal. Under -the awning Francesca lit the fire and placed the fish -upon it; the hospitable odour of the food spread -the length of the harbour, blending with the perfume -from the foliage of the Villa Onofria. The -sea lay so tranquilly that one scarcely heard between -the rocks the rustling of the water, and the -air was so limpid that one saw the steeple of San -Vito emerge in the distance amid the surrounding -houses. Luca and the other men fell to singing, -while Anna tried to help her mother. After the -meal, as the moon mounted in the sky, the sailors -prepared the skiff for weighing anchor. Meanwhile -Luca, under the stimulation of the wine and -food, seized with his habitual avidity for miraculous -stories, commenced to tell of distant shores. -“There was, further up than Roto, a mountain all -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> -inhabited by monkeys and men from India; it was -very high, with plants that produced precious -stones.” His wife and daughter listened in silent -astonishment. Then, the sails unfolded along the -masts, sails all covered with black figures and -Catholic symbols, like the ancient flags of a country. -Thus Luca departed. -</p> - -<p> -In February of 1826 Francesca gave birth to a -dead child. In the spring of 1830 Luca wished -to take Anna to the promontory. Anna was then -on the threshold of girlhood. The voyage was a -happy one. On the high seas they encountered a -merchant vessel, a large ship borne along by -means of its enormous white sails. The dolphins -swam in the foam; the water moved gently around, -scintillating, and seeming to carry upon its surface -a covering of peacock feathers. Anna gazed -from the ship into the distance with eyes never -satiated. Then a kind of blue cloud rose from -the line of horizon; it was the fruit covered mountain. -</p> - -<p> -The coast of Puglia came into view little by -little under the sunlight. The perfume of the -lemons permeated the morning air. When Anna -descended to the shore, she was overcome by a -sense of gladness as she examined curiously the -plantations and the men native to the place. Her -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> -father took her to the house of a woman no longer -young, who spoke with a slight stutter. -</p> - -<p> -They remained with her two days. Once Anna -saw her father kiss this woman upon the mouth, -but she did not understand. On their return the -skiff was loaded with oranges, and the sea was still -gentle. Anna preserved the remembrance of that -voyage as if it were a dream; and, since she was -by nature taciturn, she did not recount many stories -of it to her comrades, who pursued her with questions. -</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p> -In the following May, to the festival of the -Apostle, came the Archbishop of Orsogna. The -church was entirely decorated with red draperies -and leaves of gold, while before the bronze rails -burned eleven silver lamps fashioned by silversmiths -for religious purposes, and every evening -the orchestra sang a solemn oratorio with a splendid -chorus of childish voices. On Saturday the -statue of the Apostle was to be shown. Devotees -made pilgrimages from all the maritime and inland -countries; they came up the coast, singing and -bearing in their hands votive offerings, with the -sea in full sight. -</p> - -<p> -Anna on Friday had her first communion. The -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span> -Archbishop was an old man, reverent and gentle, -and when he lifted his hand to bless her, the jewel -in his ring shone like a divine eye. Anna, when -she felt on her tongue the wafer of the Eucharist, -became blinded with a sudden wave of joy that -seemed to moisten her hair, like a soft and tepid -scented bath. Behind her a murmur ran through -the multitude; near by other virgins were taking -the Sacrament and bowing their faces upon the -rail in great contrition. -</p> - -<p> -That evening Francesca wished to sleep, as was -the custom among the worshippers, upon the pavement -of the church, while awaiting the early morning -revelation of the saint. She was seven months -with child and the weight of it wearied her greatly. -On the pavement, the pilgrims lay crowded together, -while heat emanating from their bodies -filled the air. Diverse confused cries issued at -times from some of those unconscious with sleep; -the flames of the burning oil in the cups trembled -and were reflected as they hung suspended between -the arches, while through the openings of -the large doors the stars glittered in the early -spring night. -</p> - -<p> -Francesca lay awake for two hours in pain, since -the exhalations from the sleepers gave her nausea. -But, having determined to resist and to endure for -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> -the welfare of her soul, she was overcome at last -by weariness and bent her head in sleep. At dawn -she awoke. Expectation increased in the souls of -the watchers and more people arrived. In each -one burned the desire to be the first to see the -Apostle. At length the first grating was opened, -the noise of its hinges resounding clearly through -the silence, and echoing in all hearts. The second -grating was opened, then the third, the fourth, the -fifth, the sixth, and finally the last. It seemed now -as if a cyclone had struck the crowd. The mass -of men hurled themselves toward the tabernacle, -sharp cries rang in the air; ten, fifteen persons -were wounded and suffocated while a tumultuous -prayer arose. The dead were dragged to the open -air. The body of Francesca, all bruised and livid, -was carried to her family. Many curious ones -crowded around it, and her relatives lamented -piteously. Anna, when she saw her mother -stretched on the bed, purple in the face and stained -with blood, fell to the earth unconscious. Afterwards, -for many months she was tormented by -epilepsy. -</p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p> -In the summer of 1835 Luca set sail for a -Grecian port upon the skiff “Trinita” belonging -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span> -to Don Giovanni Camaccione. Moreover, as he -held a secret thought in his mind, before leaving, -he sold his furniture and asked some relatives to -keep Anna in their house until he should return. -Some time after that the skiff returned loaded with -dried figs and eggs from Corinth, after having -touched at the coast of Roto. Luca was not among -the crew, and it became known later that he had -remained in the “country of the oranges” with a -lady-love. -</p> - -<p> -Anna remembered their former stuttering -hostess. A deep sadness settled down upon her -life at this recollection. The house of her relatives -was on the eastern road, in the vicinity of Molo. -The sailors came there to drink wine in a low -room, where almost all day their songs resounded -amid the smoke of their pipes. Anna passed in -and out among the drinkers, carrying full pitchers, -and her first instinct of modesty awoke from that -continuous contact, that continuous association with -bestial men. Every moment she had to endure -their impudent jokes, cruel laughter and suggestive -gestures, the wickedness of men worn out by the -fatigues of a sailor’s life. She dared not complain, -because she ate her bread in the house of another. -But that continuous ordeal weakened her and a -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> -serious mental derangement arose little by little -from her weakened condition. -</p> - -<p> -Naturally affectionate, she had a great love for -animals. An aged ass was housed under a shed of -straw and clay behind the house. The gentle beast -daily bore burdens of wine from Saint Apollinare -to the tavern; and for all that his teeth had commenced -to grow yellow, and his hoofs to decay, -for all that his skin was already parched and had -scarcely a hair upon it, still, at the sight of a -flowering thistle he put up his ears and began to -bray vivaciously in his former youthful way. -</p> - -<p> -Anna filled his manger with fodder and his -trough with water. When the heat was severe, -she came to rest in the shadow of the shed. The -ass ground up wisps of straw laboriously between -his jaws and she with a leafy branch performed a -work of kindness by keeping his back free from -the molestation of insects. From time to time the -ass turned its long-eared head with a curling of -the flaccid lips which revealed the gums as if performing -a reddish animal smile of gratitude, and -with an oblique movement of his eye in its orbit -showed the yellowish ball veined with purple like -a gall bladder. The insects circled with a continuous -buzzing around the dung-heap; neither from -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span> -earth nor sea came a sound, and an infinite sense -of peace filled the soul of the woman. -</p> - -<p> -In April of 1842 Pantaleo, the man who guided -the beast of burden on his daily journeys, died -from a knife-wound. From that time on the duty -fell to Anna. Either she left at dawn and returned -by noon, or she left at noon and returned by night. -The road wound over a sunny hill planted with -olives, descended through a moist country used -for pasture, and on rising again through vineyards, -arrived at the factories of Saint Apollinare. The -ass walked wearily in front with lowered ears, a -green fringe all worn and discoloured beat against -his ribs and haunches and in the pack-saddle glittered -several fragments of brass plate. -</p> - -<p> -When the animal stopped to regain his breath, -Anna gave him a little caressing blow on the neck -and urged him with her voice, because she had pity -for his infirmities. Every so often she tore from -the hedges a handful of leaves and offered them to -him for refreshment; she was moved on feeling in -her palm the soft movement of his lips as they -nibbled her offering. The hedges were in bloom -and the blossoms of the white thorn had a flavour -of bitter almonds. -</p> - -<p> -On the confines of the olive grove was a large -cistern, and near this cistern a long, stone canal -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> -where the animals came to drink. Every day -Anna paused at this spot and here she and the ass -quenched their thirst before continuing the journey. -Once she encountered the keeper of a herd of cattle, -who was a native of Tollo and whose expression -was a little cross and who had a hare-lip. The -man returned her greeting and they began to converse -on the pasturage and the water, then on -sanctuaries and miracles. Anna listened graciously -and with frequent smiles. She was lean and -pale with very clear eyes and uncommonly large -mouth, and her auburn hair was smoothed back -without a part. On her neck one saw the red -scars of her burns and her veins stood out and -palpitated incessantly. -</p> - -<p> -From that time on their conversations were repeated -at intervals. Through the grass the cattle -dispersed, either lying down and pondering or -standing and eating. Their peaceful moving forms -added to the tranquillity of the pastoral solitude. -Anna, seated on the edge of the cistern, talked -simply and the man with his split lip seemed overcome -with love. One day with a sudden, spontaneous -blossoming of her memory, she told of her sailing -to the mountain of Roto; and, since the remoteness -of the time had blurred her memory, she -told marvellous things with a strong appearance of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span> -truth. The man, astonished, listened without winking -an eye. When Anna stopped speaking, to -both the surrounding silence and solitude seemed -deeper and both remained in thought. Then the -cattle, driven by habit, came to the trough and -between their legs dangled the bags of milk supplied -anew from the pasture. As they thrust their -noses into the stream, the water diminished with -their slow, regular gulps. -</p> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<p> -During the last days of June the ass fell sick. -It took neither food nor drink for almost a week. -The daily journeys were interrupted. One morning -Anna, descending to the shed, found the beast -all cramped upon the straw in a pitiable condition. -A kind of hoarse, tenacious cough shook from time -to time his huge frame thinly covered with skin, -while above the eyes two deep cavities had formed -like two hollow orbits, and the eyes themselves -resembled two great bladders filled with whey. -When the ass heard Anna’s voice he tried to get -up; his body reeled upon his legs, his neck sank -beneath the sharp shoulder-blades, and his ears -dangled, with involuntary and ungainly motions, -like those of a big toy broken at the hinges. A -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span> -mucous liquid dropped from his nose, sometimes -flowing in little sluggish rivulets down to his knees. -The raw spots in the skin turned the colour of -azure, and the sores here and there bled. -</p> - -<p> -Anna, at this sight, was inwardly torn by a pitying -anguish; and, since by nature and by habit she -never experienced any physical repugnance on coming -in contact with things commonly regarded as -repellant, she drew near to touch the animal. With -one hand she held up his lower jaw and with the -other a shoulder and thus sought to help him walk, -hoping that exercise might do him good. At first -the animal hesitated, shaken by new outbreaks of -coughing, but at length he began to walk down the -gentle incline that led to the shore. The water -before them shone white in the birth of the morning -and the <i>Calafatti</i> near La Penna were smearing -a keel with pitch. As Anna sustained her burden -with her hands, and held the halter rope, the -ass through a misstep of a hind leg fell suddenly. -The great structure of bones gave a rattle within -as if ruptured, the skin over the stomach and -flanks resounded dully and palpitated. The legs -made a motion as if to run, while blood issued -from the gums and spread among the teeth. -</p> - -<p> -The woman began to call and run toward the -house. But the <i>Calafatti</i>, having arrived, laughed -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> -and joked at the reclining ass. One of them struck -the dying beast in the stomach with his foot. Another -grabbed his ears and raised his head, which -sank heavily again to earth. The eyes at length -closed, a chill ran over the white skin of the stomach, -parting the tufts of hair as a wind would do, -while one of his hind legs beat two or three times -in the air. Then all was still, except that in the -shoulder, where there was an ulcer, a slight quivering -took place, like that caused by some insect a -moment before in the living flesh. When Anna -returned to the spot she found the <i>Calafatti</i> dragging -the carcass by the tail, and singing a Requiem -with imitation brays. -</p> - -<p> -Thus Anna was left alone. Still for a long -time she lived on in the house of her relatives and -gradually faded, while she fulfilled her humble -duties and endured with much Christian patience -her vexations. In 1845 her epilepsy returned to -her with violence, but disappeared again after -some months. Her religious faith became at the -same time more deep and living. She went up to -the church every morning and every evening, and -knelt habitually in an obscure corner protected -by a great pillar of marble where was pictured in -rough bas-relief the flight of the Holy Family into -Egypt. Did she not at first choose that corner -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> -because she was attracted by the gentle ass bearing -the child Jesus and His mother from the land -of idolatry? A great peace as of love descended -upon her soul when she bent her knees in the -shadow, and prayers rose unpolluted from her -breast as from a natural spring, because she -prayed only through a blind passion to adore, and -not through any hope to obtain the grace of happiness -in her own life. She prayed with her head -lowered on a chair, and as Christians, in coming -and going, touched the holy water with their -fingers and crossed themselves, she from time to -time shivered on feeling on her hair some welcome -drops of the holy water. -</p> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<p> -When in the year 1851 Anna came for the first -time to the country of Pescara, the feast of -Rosario was approaching, which is celebrated on -the first Sunday of October. -</p> - -<p> -The woman came from Ortona on foot, for the -purpose of fulfilling a vow; and bearing with her, -hidden in a handkerchief of silk, a little heart of -silver, she walked religiously along the seacoast; -since at that time the province road was not yet -constructed, and a wood of pines almost covered -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span> -the virgin soil. The day was calm, save that the -waves of the sea were ever increasing and at the -farthest point of the horizon the clouds continued -to rise in the shape of large funnels. Anna walked -on entirely absorbed in holy thoughts. Towards -evening, as she was approaching Salini, suddenly -the rain began to fall, at first gently, but later in a -great downpour; so much so that, not finding any -shelter, she was wet through and through. -Further on, the gorge of the Alento was flooded, -and she had to remove her shoes and ford the -river. In the vicinity of Vallelonga the rain -ceased, and the forest of pines serenely revived -gave forth an odour almost of incense. Anna, -rendering thanks in her soul to her Lord, followed -the shore path with steps more rapid, since she -felt the unwholesome dampness penetrate her -bones, and her teeth began to chatter from a chill. -</p> - -<p> -At Pescara she was suddenly stricken with a -swamp-fever, and cared for through pity in the -house of Donna Cristina Basile. From her bed -on hearing the sacred chants, and seeing the tops -of the standards wave to the height of her window, -she set herself to praying and invoking her -recovery. When the Virgin passed she could see -only the jewelled crown, and she endeavoured to -kneel upon the pillows in order to worship. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span> -</p> - -<p> -After three weeks she recovered and Donna -Cristina having asked her to remain, she stayed -on in the capacity of a servant. She had a little -room looking out upon a court. The walls were -whitened with plaster, an old screen covered with -curious figures blocked a corner, and among the -beams of the roof many spiders stretched in peace -their intricate webs. Under the window projected -a short roof, and further down opened the court -full of tame birds. On the roof grew from a pile -of earth enclosed with five tiles a tobacco plant. -The sun lingered there from early in the morning -until the evening. Every summer the plant -bloomed. Anna, in this new life, in this new -house, little by little felt herself revive and her -natural inclination for order reasserted itself. -</p> - -<p> -She attended tranquilly and without speaking -to all her duties. Meanwhile her belief in things -supernatural increased. Two or three legends had -in the distant past established themselves with -regard to certain spots in the Basile house, and -from generation to generation they had been -handed down. In the yellow room on the second -floor (now unoccupied) lived the soul of Donna -Isabella. In a dark room with a winding staircase -descending to a door that had not been opened -for a long time, lived the soul of Don Samuele. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> -Those two names exercised a singular power -over the present occupants, and diffused through -the entire ancient building a kind of conventional -solemnity. Further, as the inside court was surrounded -by many roofs, the cats on the loggia -gathered in counsel and mewed with a mysterious -sweetness, while begging Anna for bits from her -meals. -</p> - -<p> -In March of the year 1853 the husband of -Donna Cristina after many weeks of convulsions -died of a urinary disease. He was a God fearing -man, domestic and charitable, at the head of a -congregation of landowners, read theological -works, and knew how to play on the piano several -simple airs of the ancient Neapolitan masters. -When the viaticum arrived, magnificent with its -quantity of servers and richness of equipage, Anna -knelt on the doorsill and prayed in a loud voice. -The room filled with the vapour of incense, in the -midst of which glittered the <i>cyborium</i> and the -censers flickering like burning lamps. One heard -weeping, and then arose the voices of the priests -recommending the soul to the Most High. Anna, -carried away by the solemnity of that sacrament, -lost all horror of death, and from that time on -the death of a Christian seemed to her a journey -sweet and joyful. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span> -</p> - -<p> -Donna Cristina kept the windows of her house -closed for an entire month. She mourned for her -husband at the hours of dinner and supper, gave -in his name alms to beggars; and many times a -day, with the tail of a fox swished the dust from -his piano, as if from a relic, while emitting sighs. -She was a woman of forty years, tending toward -fleshiness, although still youthful in her form -which sterility had preserved. And since she inherited -from the deceased a considerable sum, the -five oldest bachelors of the country began to lay -ambushes for her and to allure her with flattering -wiles to new nuptials. The competitors were: -Don Ignazio Cespa, an effeminate person, of -ambiguous sex, with the face of an old gossip -marked from the small-pox, and a head of hair -filled with cosmetics, with fingers heavy from rings -and ears pierced with two minute circles of gold; -Don Paolo Nervegna, doctor of law, a man talkative -and keen, who had his lips always curled -as if he were chewing on some bitter herb, and a -kind of red, unconcealable wart on his forehead; -Don Fileno d’Amelio, a new leader of the congregation, -slightly bald, with a forehead sloping -backward, and deep-set lamb-like eyes; Don -Pompeo Pepe, a jocular man and a lover of wine, -women and leisure, luxuriantly corpulent, especially -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> -in his face and sonorous in laughter and speech; -Don Fiore Ussorio, a man of pugnacious disposition, -a great reader of political works, and a -triumphant quoter of historical examples in every -dispute, pallid with an unearthly pallor, with a -thin circle of beard around his cheeks and a mouth -peculiarly leaning toward an oblique line. To -these were added, as a help to Donna Cristina’s -power of resistance, the Abbot Egidio Cennamele -who, wishing to draw the heritage to the benefit -of the church, with well covered cleverness antagonised -the wooers by means of flattery. This -great contest, which some day should be narrated -in more detail, lasted a long time and held great -variety of incident. -</p> - -<p> -The principal theatre of the first act was the -dining-room—a rectangular room where on the -French paper of the walls were graphically represented -the facts of Ulysses’ sail to the island of -Calypso. Almost every evening the combatants -assembled around the besieged’s window and -played the game of <i>briscola</i> and of love -alternately. -</p> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<p> -Anna was a constant witness. She introduced -the visitors, spread the cloth upon the table, and, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span> -in the midst of the siege, brought in glasses full -of a greenish cordial mixed by the nuns with special -drugs. Once at the top of the stairs she heard -Don Fiore Ussorio, in the heat of a dispute, insult -the Abbot Cennamele who spoke submissively; -and since this irreverence seemed monstrous to -her, from that time on she judged Don Fiore to -be a diabolical man and at his appearance rapidly -made the sign of the cross and murmured a Pater. -</p> - -<p> -One day in the spring of 1856 while on the -bank of the Pescara, she saw a fleet of boats pass -the mouth of the river and sail slowly up the current -of the stream. The sun was serene, the two -shores were mirrored in the depths facing one -another, some green branches and several baskets -of reeds floated in the midst of the current toward -the sea like placid symbols, and the barks, with -the mitre of Saint Thomas painted for an ensign -in a corner of their sails, proceeded thus on the -beautiful river sanctified by the legend of Saint -Cetteo Liberatore. Recollections of her birthplace -awoke in the soul of the woman with a sudden -start, at that sight; and on thinking of her -father, she was overcome with a deep tenderness. -</p> - -<p> -The barks were Ortonesian skiffs and came -from the promontory of Roto with a cargo of -lemons. Anna, when the anchors were cast, approached -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span> -the sailors and gazed at them in silence -with a curiosity yearning and fearful. One of -them, struck by her expression, recognised her and -questioned her familiarly: “Whom was she seeking? -What did she want?” Then Anna drew -the man aside and asked him if by chance he had -seen in the “country of the oranges” Luca Minella, -her father. “He had not seen him? He no -longer lived with that woman?” The man answered -that Luca had been dead for some time. -“He was old, and could not live very long?” Then -Anna restrained her tears and wished to know -many things. “Luca had married that woman -and they had had two children. The elder of the -two sailed upon a skiff and came sometimes to -Pescara for trade.” Anna started. -</p> - -<p> -A perplexing confusion, a kind of troubled dismay -seized her mind. She could not regain her -equilibrium in the face of these complicated facts. -She had two brothers then? She must love them? -She must endeavour to see them? Now what -ought she to do? Thus, wavering, she returned -home. Afterwards, for many evenings, when -the barks entered the river, she descended the long -dock to watch the sailors. One skiff brought from -Dalmatia a load of asses and ponies. The beasts -on reaching land stamped and the air rang with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> -their brays and neighs. Anna, in passing, stroked -the large heads of the asses. -</p> - -<h3>VII</h3> - -<p> -At about that time she received as a gift from -a squire a turtle. This new pet, heavy and taciturn, -was her delight and care in her leisure hours. -It walked from one end of the room to the other, -lifting with difficulty from the ground the great -weight of its body. It had claws, like olive-coloured -stumps, and was young; the sections of -its dorsal shield, spotted yellow and black, glittered -often in the sunlight with a shade of amber. -The head covered with scales, tapering to the nose -and yellowish, projected and nodded with timorous -benignity, and it seemed sometimes like the -head of an old worn-out serpent that had issued -from the husk of its own skin. Anna was much -delighted with the traits of the animal; its silence, -its frugality, its modesty, its love of home. She -fed it with leaves, roots and worms, while watching -ecstatically the movement of its little horned -and ragged jaws. She experienced almost a feeling -of maternity as she gently called the animal -and chose for it the tenderest and sweetest herbs. -Then the turtle became the presager of an idyl. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span> -The squire, on coming many times a day to the -house, lingered on the loggia to chat with Anna. -Since he was a man of humble spirit, devout, prudent, -and just, he enjoyed seeing the reflections of -his pious virtues in the soul of the woman. Hence, -from habit there arose between the two, little by -little, a friendly familiarity. Anna already had -several white hairs on her temples, and a placid -sincerity suffused her face. Zacchiele exceeded her -in age by several years; he had a large head with -bulging forehead and two gentle, round, rabbit-like -eyes. During their soliloquies they sat for -the most part on the loggia. Above them, between -the roofs, the sky seemed a transparent -cupola, while at intervals the pet doves in their -soarings traversed this patch of the heavens. -Their conversations turned upon the harvests, the -fruitfulness of the earth and simple rules for -cultivation, and they were both full of experience -and self-denial. Since Zacchiele loved at times, -because of a natural diffident vanity, to make show -of his knowledge before the ignorant and credulous -woman, she conceived for him an unlimited -esteem and admiration. She learned from him -that the earth was divided into five races of men: -the white, the yellow, the red, the black, and the -brown. She learned that in form the earth was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> -round, that Romulus and Remus were nourished -by a wolf, and that in autumn the swallows flew -over the sea to Egypt where the Pharaohs reigned -in ancient times. But did not men all have one -colour, in the image and semblance of God? How -could we walk upon a ball? Who were the -Pharaohs? She did not succeed in understanding -and thus remained completely confused. -However, after that she regarded the swallows -with reverence and judged them to be birds gifted -with human foresight. -</p> - -<p> -One day Zacchiele showed her a copy of the -Old Testament, illustrated with drawings. Anna -examined it slowly, listening to his explanations. -She saw Adam and Eve among the hares and -fawns, Noah half nude kneeling before an altar, -the three angels of Abraham, Moses rescued from -the water; she saw with joy finally a Pharaoh, in -the presence of the rod of Moses, changed into -a serpent; the queen of Sheba, the feast of the -Tabernacle, and the martyrdom of the Maccabees. -The affair of Balaam’s ass filled her with wonder -and tenderness. The story of the cup of Joseph -in the sack of Benjamin caused her to burst into -tears. Now she imagined the Israelites walking -through a desert all covered with scales, under a -dew that was called manna and which was white -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> -like snow and sweeter than bread. After the -Sacred History, seized with a strange ambition, -Zacchiele began to read to her of the enterprises -of the kings of France with the Emperor Constantine -up to the time of Orlando, Count of -Anglante. A great tumult then upset the woman’s -mind, the battles of the Philistines and Syrians she -confused with the battles of the Saracens, Holofernes -with Rizieri, King Saul with King Mambrino, -Eleazar with Balante, Naomi with Galeana. -</p> - -<p> -Worn out she no longer followed the thread -of the narrative, but shivered only at intervals -when she heard fall from the lips of Zacchiele -the sound of some beloved name. And she had -a strong liking for Dusolina and the Duke of -Bovetto, who seized all of England while becoming -enamoured of the daughter of the Frisian -King. -</p> - -<p> -The first day of September came. In the air, -tempered with recent rain, was a placid autumnal -clarity. Anna’s room became the spot for their -readings. One day Zacchiele, seated, read “how -Galeana, daughter of the King Galafro, became -enamoured of Mainetto and wished to make him -a garland of green.” -</p> - -<p> -Anna, because the fable seemed simple and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> -rustic, and because the voice of the reader seemed -to sweeten with new inflections, listened with evident -eagerness. The turtle gently dragged itself -over several leaves of lettuce, the sun illumined a -great spider’s web upon the window, and one saw -the last red flowers of the tobacco plant through -the subtle threads of gold. -</p> - -<p> -When the chapter was finished Zacchiele laid -aside the book, and, gazing at the woman, smiled -with one of those simple smiles of his, which had -a way of wrinkling his temples and the corners of -his mouth. Then he began to speak to her -vaguely, with the timidity of one who does not -quite know how to arrive at the desired point. -Finally he was filled with ardour. Had she never -thought of matrimony? Anna did not reply to -this question. Both remained silent and both felt -in their souls a confused sweetness, almost an -astonished reawakening of buried youth and a reclaiming -of love. They were excited by it as if -the fumes of a very strong wine had mounted to -their weakened brains. -</p> - -<h3>VIII</h3> - -<p> -But a tacit promise of marriage was given many -days later, in October, at the first birth of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> -oil in the olive, and at the last migration of the -swallows. With Donna Cristina’s permission, one -Monday Zacchiele took Anna to the factory on -the hills where his mill was located. They left -by the Portasale, on foot, took the Salaria road, -turning their backs on the river. From the day -of the fable of Galeana and Mainetto, they had -experienced, the one toward the other, a kind of -trepidation, a mixture of bashful timidity and respect. -They had lost that beautiful familiarity -of previous times; now they spoke seldom together -and always with a hesitating reserve, -avoiding each other’s face, with uncertain smiles, -becoming confused at times through a sudden -blush, dallying thus with timid, childish acts of -innocence. -</p> - -<p> -They walked in silence, at first, each following -the dry and narrow path which the footsteps of -travellers had marked on both sides of the road, -and between them ran the road, muddy and indented -with deep ruts from the wheels of vehicles. -The unrestrained joy of the vintage filled the -country; the songs at the crushing of the wine resounded -over the plain. Zacchiele kept slightly in -the rear, breaking the silence from time to time -with some remark on the weather, the vines, the -harvest of olives, while Anna examined curiously -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span> -all of the bushes flaming with berries, the tilled -fields, the water in the ditches; and, little by little, -a vague joy was born in her soul, like one who, -after a long period of fasting, is rejoiced by -pleasant sensations experienced long ago. As the -road took a turn up the declivity through the rich -olive orchards of Cardirusso, clearly arose to her -mind the remembrance of Saint Apollinare and -the ass and the keeper of the herds. She felt her -blood suddenly surge toward her heart. That -episode, buried with her youth, now revived in her -memory with a marvellous clearness; a picture of -the place formed itself before her mind’s eye and -she saw again the man with the hare-lip and again -heard his voice, while experiencing a new confusion -without knowing why. -</p> - -<p> -As they approached the factory the wind among -the trees caused the mature olives to fall and a -patch of serene sea was revealed from the heights. -Zacchiele had moved to the side of the woman -and was looking at her from time to time with a -pious supplicating tenderness. “What was she -thinking of now?” Anna turned with an air almost -of fright, as if she had been caught in a sin. -“She was thinking of nothing.” They arrived at -the mill where the farmers were crushing the first -harvest of olives fallen prematurely from the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> -trees. The room for the crushing was low and -dimly lighted; from the ceiling sparkling with -saltpetre hung lanterns of brass which smoked; a -cart-horse, blindfolded, turned with even steps an -immense mill-stone; and the farmers, clothed in a -kind of long tunic similar to a sack, with legs and -arms bare, muscular and oily, were pouring the -liquid into jugs, jars and vats. -</p> - -<p> -Anna watched the work attentively, and as -Zacchiele gave orders to the workers and wound -in and out among the machines, observing the -quality of the olives with great decision of judgment, -she felt her admiration for him increase. -Later, as Zacchiele standing before her took up a -great brimful pitcher and on pouring the oil, so -pure and luminous, into a vat, spoke of God’s -abundance, she made the sign of the cross, quite -overwhelmed with veneration for the richness of -the soil. -</p> - -<p> -There came at length to the door two women -of the factory, and each held at her breast a nursing -child and dragged at her skirts a luxuriant -group of children. They fell to conversing placidly, -and, while Anna tried to caress the children, -each talked of her own fertility, and with an honest -frankness of speech told of her various deliverances. -The first had had seven children; the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span> -second eleven. It was the will of Jesus Christ, -for working people were needed. Then the conversation -turned upon familiar matters. Albarosa, -one of the mothers, asked Anna many questions. -Had she never had any children? Anna, in answering -that she was not married, experienced -for the first time a kind of humiliation and grief, -before that chaste and powerful maternity. Then, -changing the subject of their discourse, she rested -her hand on the nearest child. The others looked -on with wide-open eyes that seemed to have acquired -a limpid, vegetable colour from the continuous -sight of green things. The odour of the -crushed olives floated in the air, penetrating the -throat and exciting the palate. The groups of -workers appeared and disappeared under the red -light of the lamps. -</p> - -<p> -Zacchiele, who up to that moment had been -watching carefully the measuring of the oil, approached -the women. Albarosa welcomed him -with a merry expression. “How long were they -to wait for Don Zacchiele to take a wife?” -Zacchiele smiled, slightly confused by this question, -and gave a stealthy glance at Anna who was still -caressing the rustic child and feigning not to have -heard. Albarosa, through a kindly pleasantry, -characteristic of the peasant, embracing Anna and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span> -Zacchiele significantly with a wink of her bovine -eyes, pursued her comment. They were a couple -blessed by God. Why were they delaying? The -farmers, having suspended their work to attend -to their meal, made a circle around them. The -couple, even more confused by these witnesses, remained -silent in an attitude bordering between -tremulous smiles and shame-faced modesty. One -of the youths among the onlookers, inspired by the -affectionate compunctions in the face of Don -Zacchiele, nudged his companions with his elbows. -The hungry horse neighed. -</p> - -<p> -The meal was prepared. A strenuous activity -invaded the large rustic family. In the yard, in -the open air, among the peaceful olives and within -sight of the sea beneath, the men sat at their meal. -The plates of vegetables, seasoned with fresh oil, -smoked; the wine scintillated in the simple vases -of liturgical shape, while the frugal food disappeared -rapidly into the stomachs of the workers. -</p> - -<p> -Anna now felt herself filled by a tumult of joy, -and she seemed suddenly almost united by a kind -of friendly domesticity with the two women. They -took her into their houses where the rooms were -large and light, although very old. On the walls -sacred images alternated with pasqual palms; -joints of pork hung from the rafters; the posts, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span> -ample and very high, rose from the pavement -with cradles beside them; from all emanated the -serenity of family concord. Anna, beholding these -arrangements, smiled timidly at some inward -sweetness, and at a certain point was seized by a -strange emotion, almost as if all of her latent -virtues of the domestic mother and her instincts -to succour had escaped and suddenly risen up. -</p> - -<p> -When the women descended again to the yard, -the men still remained around the table and -Zacchiele was talking to them. Albarosa took a -small loaf of corn-bread, divided it in the middle, -spread it with oil and salt, and offered it to Anna. -The fresh oil, just pressed from the fruit, diffused -in the mouth a savoury, sharp aroma, and Anna, -allured, ate all of the bread. She even drank the -wine. Then as the evening was falling, she and -Zacchiele began the descent of the hill on their return. -Behind them the farmers were singing. -Many other songs arose from the fields and pervaded -the evening air with the soft fullness of a -Gregorian chant. The wind blew moistly through -the olive trees, a dying splendour between rose and -violet suffused the sky. Anna walked in front -with swift steps, grazing the tree-trunks. Zacchiele -called the woman by name; she turned to -him humbly and palpitatingly. “What did he -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span> -wish?” Zacchiele said no more; he took two steps -and arrived at her side. Thus they continued -their walk, in silence, until the Salaria road no -longer divided them. As in going, each had taken -the marginal road, on the right and left. At -length they re-entered the Portasale. -</p> - -<h3>IX</h3> - -<p> -Through a native irresolution Anna continually -deferred her matrimony. Religious doubts tormented -her. She had heard it said that only -virgins would be admitted to the circle around -the mother of God in Paradise. What then? -Must she renounce that celestial sweetness for an -earthly blessing? An ardour for devotion even -more compelling seized her. In all of her unoccupied -hours she went to the church of the -Rosario; knelt before the great confessional of -oak and remained motionless in the attitude of -prayer. The church was simple and poor; the -pavement was covered with mortuary stones and -a single shabby metal lamp burned before the -altar. The woman mourned inwardly for the -pomp of her basilica, the solemnity of the ceremonies, -the eleven lamps of silver, the three altars -of precious marbles. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span> -</p> - -<p> -But in Holy Week of the year 1857 a great -event happened. Between the Confraternity -commanded by Don Fileno d’Amelio and the -Abbot Cennamele, who was aided by the parochial -satellites, broke out a war; and the cause of it -was a dispute about the procession of the dead -Jesus. Don Fileno wished this ostentation, furnished -by the congregation, to issue from the -parochial church. The war attracted and -enveloped all of the citizens as well as the militia -of the King of Naples, residing in the fortress. -Popular tumult arose, the roads were occupied by -assemblies of fanatical people, armed platoons -went around to suppress disorders, the Archbishop -of Chieti was besieged by innumerable messages -from both parties; much money for corruption -was spent everywhere and a murmur of mysterious -plots spread throughout the city. The house -of Donna Cristina Basile was the hearth of all -the dissensions. Don Fiore Ussorio shone for -his wonderful stratagems and his boldness in these -days of struggle. Don Paolo Nervegna had a -great effusion of bile. Don Ignazio Cespa exercised, -to no purpose, all of his conciliative blandishments -and mellifluous smiles. The victory was -fought for with an implacable violence up to the -ritualistic hour for the funeral ostentation. The -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span> -people fermented with expectation; the captain of -the militia, a partisan of the abbey, threatened -punishment to the instigators of the Confraternity. -Revolt was on the point of breaking forth. -When, lo, there arrived at the square a mounted -soldier, bearer of an episcopal message, that gave -the victory to the congregation. -</p> - -<p> -The ostentation then passed with rare magnificence -through the streets scattered with flowers. -A chorus of fifty child voices sang the hymn -of the Passion and ten censers filled the entire -city with the smell of incense. The canopies, the -standards, the tapers, which made up this new -display, filled the bystanders with wonder. The -Abbot, although discomfited, did not intervene, -and in his place Don Pasquale Carabba, the Great -Coadjutor, clothed in ample vestments, followed -with much solemnity the bier of Jesus. -</p> - -<p> -Anna, during the contest, had made offerings -for the victory of the Abbot. But the sumptuousness -of this ceremony blinded her; a kind of rapture -overcame her at the spectacle, and she felt -gratitude even toward Don Fiore Ussorio, who -passed bearing in his hand an immense taper. -Then as the last band of celebrators arrived before -her, she mingled with the fanatical crowd of -men, women and children and thus moved along -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span> -as if scarcely touching the earth, while always -holding her eyes fixed on the surmounting wreath -of the Mater Dolorosa. On high, from one balcony -to another, were stretched, consecutively, -illustrious flags; from the houses of the stewards -hung rude figures of lambs fashioned from corn, -while at intervals, where three or four streets met, -lighted brasiers spread fumes of aromatics. -</p> - -<p> -The procession did not pass under the windows -of the Abbot. From time to time a kind of irregular -fluctuation ran the length of the line, as if -the band of standard-bearers had encountered an -obstacle. The cause of it was a struggle between -the bearer of the Crucifix of the Confraternity and -the lieutenant of the militia, both having received -the command to follow a different route. Since -the lieutenant could not use violence without committing -sacrilege, the Crucifix conquered. The -Congregation exulted, the Commanding General -burned with wrath, and the people were filled -with curiosity. When the ostentation, in the vicinity -of the Arsenale, turned again to enter the -church of Saint John, Anna took an oblique path -and in a few steps reached the main door. She -kneeled. First there arrived before her a man -bearing the enormous cross, while the standard-bearers -followed him, balancing very tall banners -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> -on their foreheads or chins, and gesticulating with -a clever play of muscles. Then, almost in the -centre of a cloud of incense, came the other bands, -the angelic choruses, men in cassocks, the virgins, -the gentlemen, the clerics, the militias. The sight -was grand. A kind of mystic terror seized the -soul of the woman. -</p> - -<p> -There advanced in the vestibule, according to -custom, an acolyte carrying a large silver plate for -receiving tapers. Anna watched. Then it was -that the Commander, crunching between his teeth -bitter words for the Confraternity, threw his -taper violently upon the plate and turned his back -with a threatening shrug. All remained dumbfounded. -And in the sudden silence one heard -the clash of the sword of the officer as he left the -church. Don Fiore Ussorio only had the temerity -to smile. -</p> - -<h3>X</h3> - -<p> -For a long time these deeds aroused the vocal -activity of the citizens and were a cause for -quarrels. As Anna had been a witness of the last -scene, several came to her to get the facts. She -recounted her story with patience, and always in -the same way. Her life from now on was entirely -expended in religious practices, domestic -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span> -duties, and in loving ministrations for her turtle. -At the first signs of spring, it awoke from its condition -of lethargy. One day, unexpectedly, it unsheathed -from its shield the serpentine head and -swung it weakly, while its feet remained in torpor. -The little eyes were half covered with the eyelids. -The animal, perhaps no longer conscious of -being a captive, pushed by the need to find food, -as in the sand of its native wood, moved at length -with a lazy and uncertain effort, while feeling the -ground with its feet. -</p> - -<p> -Anna, in the presence of this reawakening, was -filled with an ineffable tenderness, and looked on -with eyes wet with tears. Then she took the turtle, -laid it upon her bed, and offered it some green -leaves. The turtle hesitated to touch the leaves, -and in opening its jaws showed its fleshy tongue, -like that of a parrot. The covering of the neck -and claws seemed to be the flaccid and yellowish -membrane of a dead body. The woman, at this -sight, felt herself overcome with a great tenderness; -and to restore her beloved she caressed it -as would a mother a convalescent child. She -greased with sweet oil the bony shield, and as the -sun beat down upon it the polished sections shone -with beauty. -</p> - -<p> -Among such cares passed the months of spring. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> -But Zacchiele, counselled by the spring season to -greater pursuit of love, beset the woman with -such tender supplications that he had at last from -her a solemn promise. The nuptials should be -celebrated the day preceding the nativity of Christ. -</p> - -<p> -Then the idyl reblossomed. While Anna attended -to her needlework for her trousseau, Zacchiele -read in a loud voice the story of the New -Testament. The marriage at Cana, the miracles -of the Redeemer, the dead of Nain, the multiplication -of the loaves and fishes, the liberation of -the daughter of Cainan, the ten lepers, the blind-born, -the resurrection of the Nazarene, all of -those miraculous narrations ravished the soul of -the woman. And she pondered long on Jesus who -entered into Jerusalem riding on an ass, while the -people spread in His path their garments and -waved palms. -</p> - -<p> -In the room, the herb of thyme shed odour -from an earthen vase. The turtle came sometimes -to the seamstress and caught in its mouth -the hem of the cloth, or chewed the leather of -her shoe. One day Zacchiele, while reading the -parable of the Prodigal Son, feeling suddenly -something soft under his feet, through an involuntary -motion of fright, gave a kick, and the turtle, -struck against the wall, fell back upside down. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span> -Its dorsal shell burst in many places, while a little -blood appeared on one of its claws, which the animal -waved fruitlessly in an effort to regain its -correct position. -</p> - -<p> -In spite of the fact that the unhappy lover -showed himself contrite and even inconsolable, -Anna, after that day, locked herself in a kind of -diffident severity, scarcely spoke, and no longer -wished to hear his reading. And thus the Prodigal -Son was left forever under the trees with the -acorns to watch his master’s pigs. -</p> - -<h3>XI</h3> - -<p> -Zacchiele lost his life in the great flood of -October, 1857. The dairy farm where he -lived, in the neighbourhood of the Cappuccini -Convent, beyond the Porta-Giulia, was inundated -by the flood. The waters covered the entire country, -from the hill of Orlando to the hill of Castellammare; -and, since it had flown over vast deposits -of clay, it looked bloody as in the ancient fable. -The tops of the trees emerged here and there from -this blood, so miry and extensive. At intervals -passed enormous trunks of trees with all of their -roots, furniture, unrecognisable materials, groups -of beasts not yet dead who bellowed and disappeared -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span> -and then reappeared and were lost sight -of in the distance. The droves of oxen, especially, -presented a wonderful sight; their great white -bodies pursued one another, their heads reared -desperately from out the water, furious interlacings -of horns occurred in their rushes of terror. -As the sea was to the east, the waves at the mouth -of the river overflowed into it. The salt lake of -Palata and its estuaries also joined with the river. -The fort became a lost island. Inland the roads -were submerged, and in the house of Donna Cristina -the water-line reached almost half way up -the stairs. The tumult increased continuously, -while the bells sounded clamorously. The prisoners, -within their prisons, howled. -</p> - -<p> -Anna, believing in some supreme chastisement -from the Most High, took recourse in prayers for -salvation. The second day, as she mounted to the -top of the pigeon-house, she saw nothing but -water, water everywhere under the clouds, and -later observed, terrified, horses galloping madly -on the ridge of San Vitale. She descended, dulled, -with her mind in a turmoil, and the persistency of -the noise and the mists of the air blurred in her -every sense of place and time. -</p> - -<p> -When the flood began to subside, the country -people entered the city by means of scows. Men, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> -women and children carried in their faces and -eyes a grievous stupefaction. All narrated sad -stories. And a ploughman of the Cappuccini came -to the Basile house to announce that Don Zacchiele -had been washed out to sea. The ploughman -spoke simply in telling of the death. He -said that in the vicinity of the Cappuccini certain -women had bound their nursing children to the -top of an enormous tree to rescue them from the -waters and that the whirlpools had uprooted the -tree, dragging down the five little creatures. Don -Zacchiele was upon a roof with other Christians -in a compact group, and as the roof was about to -be submerged the corpses of animals and broken -branches beat against these desperate ones. -When at length the tree with the babies passed -over them, the impact was so terrible that after its -passage there was no longer a trace of roof or -Christians. -</p> - -<p> -Anna listened without weeping, and in her -mind, shaken by the account of that death, by that -tree with its five infants, and those men all -crouched upon the roof while the corpses of beasts -beat against it, sprang up a kind of superstitious -wonder like the excitement she had felt in hearing -certain stories of the Old Testament. She -mounted slowly to her room, and tried to compose -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> -herself. The sun shone upon her window, -and the turtle slept in a corner, covered with his -shield, while the chattering of swallows came -from the tiles. All of these natural things, this -customary tranquillity of her daily life, little by -little comforted her. From the depths of that -momentary calm at length her grief arose clearly, -and she bent her head upon her breast in deep -depression. -</p> - -<p> -Her heart was stung with remorse for having -preserved against Zacchiele that strange, silent -rancour for so long a time; recollections one after -another came to mind, and the virtues of her lost -lover shone more brightly than ever in her memory. -As the scourgings of her grief increased, she -got up, went to her bed, and there stretched herself -out upon her face. Her weeping mingled -with the chattering of the birds. -</p> - -<p> -Afterwards, when her tears were dried, the -peace of resignation began to descend upon her -soul, and she came to feel that everything of this -earth was frail and that we ought to bend ourselves -to the will of God. The unction of this -simple act of consecration spread in her heart a -fulness of sweetness. She felt herself freed from -all inquietude, and found repose in her humble but -firm faith. From now on in her law there was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> -but this one clause: The sovereign will of God, -always just, always adorable, established in all -things praised and exalted through all eternity. -</p> - -<h3>XII</h3> - -<p> -Thus to the daughter of Luca was opened -the true road to Paradise. The passing of -time was not marked by her except in ecclesiastical -occurrences. When the river re-entered its -channel, there issued in consecutive order for -many days processions throughout the cities and -country. She followed all of them, together with -the people, singing the <i>Te Deum</i>. The vineyards -everywhere had been devastated; the earth -was soft and the air pregnant with white vapours, -singularly luminous, like those rising from the -swamps in spring. -</p> - -<p> -Then came the feast of All Saints; then the -solemnity for the dead. A great number of -masses were celebrated for the assistance of the -victims of the flood. At Christmas Anna wished -to make a manger; she bought a Christ-child, -Mary, Saint Joseph, an ox and an ass, wise men, -and shepherds, all made of wax. Accompanied -by the daughter of the sacristan she went to the -ditches of the Salaria road to search for moss. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span> -Under the glassy serenity of the fields, the lands -were covered with lime, the factory of Albarosa -appeared on the hill among the olives, and no -voice disturbed the silence. Anna, as she discovered -the moss, bent and with a knife cut the clod. -On contact with the cold verdure her hands became -violet coloured. From time to time, at the -sight of a clod greener than the others, there escaped -from her an exclamation of contentment. -When her basket was full, she sat down upon the -edge of the ditch with the girl. She raised her -eyes thoughtfully and slowly to the olive-orchard, -and they rested upon the white wall of the factory -that resembled a cloisteral edifice. Then she -bowed her head, tormented by her thoughts. -Later she turned suddenly to her companion—”Had -she never seen the olives crushed!” She -began to picture the work of the crushing with -voluble speech; and, as she spoke, little by little -arose in her mind other recollections than those -she was describing, and they showed themselves -in her voice by a slight trembling. -</p> - -<p> -That was the last weakness. In April of 1858, -shortly after Ascension Day, she fell sick. She -remained in bed almost a month, tormented by a -pulmonary inflammation. Donna Cristina came -morning and evening to her room to visit her. An -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> -aged maid servant who made public profession of -assisting the sick gave her medicines to her. Then -the turtle cheered the days of her convalescence. -And as the animal was emaciated from fasting, -and was nothing but skin, Anna, seeing him so -lean, and perceiving herself so debilitated, felt -that secret satisfaction that we experience when -we suffer the same pain as a beloved one. A mild -tepidity arose from the tiles covered with lichens, -in the court the cocks crew, and one morning two -swallows entered suddenly, flapped their wings -about the room, and fled away again. -</p> - -<p> -When Anna returned for the first time to the -church, after her recovery, it was the festival of -roses. On entering she breathed in greedily the -perfume of incense. She walked softly along the -nave, in order to find the spot where she had been -accustomed to kneel, and she felt herself seized -with a sudden joy when finally she discovered between -the mortuary stories that one which bore in -its centre an almost effaced bas-relief. She -knelt upon it, and fell to praying. The people -multiplied. At a certain point in the ceremony -two acolytes descended from the choir with two -silver basins full of roses, and commenced to scatter -the flowers upon the heads of the prostrate -ones, while the organ played a joyful hymn. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span> -Anna remained bent in a kind of ecstasy that gave -her the blessedness of the mystic celebration and -a vaguely voluptuous feeling of recovery. When -several roses happened to fall upon her, she gave -a long sigh. The poor woman had never before -in her life experienced anything more sweet than -that sigh of mystic delight and its subsequent -languor. -</p> - -<p> -The Rose Easter remained therefore Anna’s -favourite festival and it returned periodically -without any noteworthy episode. In 1860 the city -was disturbed with serious agitations. One heard -often in the night the roll of drums, the alarms of -sentinels, the reports of muskets. In the house -of Donna Cristina a more lively fervour for action -manifested itself among the five suitors. Anna -was not frightened, but lived in profound meditation, -having neither a realisation of public events -nor of domestic wants, fulfilling her duties with -machine-like exactness. -</p> - -<p> -In the month of September the fortress of -Pescara was evacuated, the Bourbon militia dispersed, -their arms and baggage thrown into the -water of the river, while bands of citizens flocked -through the streets with liberal acclamations of -joy. Anna, when she heard that the Abbot Cennamele -had fled precipitately, thought that the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span> -enemies of the Church of God had triumphed, -and was greatly grieved at this. -</p> - -<p> -After this her life unfolded in peace for a long -time. The shell of the turtle increased in breadth -and became more opaque; the tobacco plant -sprang up annually, blossomed and fell; the wise -swallows every autumn departed for the land of -the Pharaohs. In 1865 the great contest of the -suitors at length culminated in the victory of Don -Fileno D’Amelio. The nuptials were celebrated -in the month of March with banquets of solemn -gaiety. There came to prepare the valuable dishes -two Capuchin fathers, Fra Vittorio and Fra -Mansueto. -</p> - -<p> -They were the two who after the suppression -of the order remained to guard the convent. Fra -Vittorio was a sexagenary, reddened, strengthened -and made happy by the juice of the grape. A -little green band covered an infirmity of his right -eye, while the left scintillated, full of a penetrating -liveliness. He had exercised from his youth the -art of drugs, and, as he had much skill in the -kitchen, gentlemen were accustomed to summon -him on occasions of festivity. At work he used -rough gestures that revealed in the ample sleeves -his hairy arms, his whole beard moved with every -motion of his mouth and his voice broke into shrill -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> -cries. Fra Mansueto, on the contrary, was a lean -old man with a great head and on his chin a -goatee. He had two yellowish eyes full of submission. -He cultivated the soil and going from -door to door carried eatable herbs to the houses. -In serving a company he took a modest position, -limped on one foot, spoke in the soft idiomatic -patois of Ortona, and, perhaps in memory of the -legend of Saint Thomas, exclaimed, “For the -Turks!” every little while stroking his polished -head with his hand. -</p> - -<p> -Anna attended to the placing of the plates, the -kitchen ware and the coppers. It seemed to her -now that the kitchen had assumed a kind of secret -solemnity through the presence of the brothers. -She remained to watch attentively all of the acts -of Fra Vittorio, seized with that trepidation that -all simple people feel in the presence of men -gifted with some superior virtue. She admired -especially the infallible gesture with which the -great Capuchin scattered upon the dishes certain -secret drugs of his, certain particular aromas -known only to him. But the humility, the mildness, -the modest jokes of Fra Mansueto little by -little made a conquest of her. And the bonds of a -common country and the still stronger ones of a -common dialect cemented their friendship. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span> -</p> - -<p> -As they conversed, recollections of the past -germinated in their speech. Fra Mansueto had -known Luca Minella and he was in the basilica -when the death of Francesca Nobile had happened -among the pilgrims. “For the Turks!” -He had even helped to carry the corpse up to the -house at the Porta-Caldara, and he remembered -that the dead woman wore a waist of yellow silk -and many chains of gold.... -</p> - -<p> -Anna grew sad. In her memory this matter -up to that moment had remained confused, vague, -almost uncertain, dimmed by the very long inert -stupor that had followed her first paroxysms of -epilepsy. But when Fra Mansueto said that her -mother was in Paradise because those who die in -the cause of religion dwell among the saints, Anna -experienced an unspeakable sweetness and felt -suddenly surge up in her soul an immense adoration -for the sanctity of her mother. -</p> - -<p> -Then, remembering the places of her native -country, she began to discourse minutely on the -Church of the Apostle, mentioning the shapes of -the altars, the position of the Chapels, the number -of the ornaments, the shape of the cupola, -the positions of the images, the divisions of the -pavement and the colours of the windows. Fra -Mansueto followed her with benignity; and, since -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> -he had been in Ortona several months before, recounted -the new things seen there. The Archbishop -of Orsogna had given the Church a precious -vase of gold with settings of precious stones. -The Confraternity of the Holy Sacrament had -renovated all the wood and leather of the stoles. -Donna Blandina Onofrii had furnished an entire -change of apparel, consisting in Dalmatian -chasubles, stoles, sacerdotal cloaks and surplices. -</p> - -<p> -Anna listened greedily, and the desire to see -these new things and to see again the old ones -began to torment her. When the Capuchin was -silent she turned to him with an air half of pleasure, -half of timidity. The May feast was drawing -near. Should they go? -</p> - -<h3>XIII</h3> - -<p> -During the last days of May, Anna, having -had permission from Donna Cristina, made her -preparations. She felt anxious about the turtle. -Ought she to leave it or carry it with her? She -remained a long time in doubt but at length decided -to carry it for security. She put it in a -basket with her clothes and the boxes of confection -which Donna Cristina was sending to -Donna Veronica Monteferrante, Abbess of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span> -monastery of Santa Caterina. At dawn Anna and -Fra Mansueto set out. Anna had from the first -a nimble step and a gay aspect; her hair, already -almost entirely grey, lay in shining folds beneath -her handkerchief. The brother limped, supporting -himself with a stick, and an empty knapsack -swung from his shoulders. When they reached -the wood of pines, they made their first halt. -</p> - -<p> -The trees in the May morning, immersed in -their native perfume, swayed voluptuously between -the serenity of the sky and that of the sea. -The trunks wept resin. The blackbirds whistled. -All the fountains of life seemed open for the -transfiguration of the earth. -</p> - -<p> -Anna sat down upon the grass, offered the -monk bread and fruit, and began to talk about -the festivity, eating at intervals. The turtle tried -with its two foremost legs to reach the edge of the -basket, and its timid serpent-like head projected -and withdrew in its efforts. Then, when Anna -took it out, the beast began to advance on the moss -toward a bush of myrtle, with less slowness, perhaps -feeling the joy of its primitive liberty arise -confusedly in it. Its shell amongst the green -looked more beautiful. Fra Mansueto made -several moral reflections and praised Providence -that gives to the turtle a house, and sleep during -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> -the winter season. Anna recounted several facts -which demonstrated great frankness and rectitude -in the turtle. Then she added, “What are the -animals thinking of?” -</p> - -<p> -The brother did not answer. Both remained -perplexed. There descended from the bark of a -pine a file of ants and they extended themselves -across the ground, each ant dragged a fragment of -food and the entire innumerable family fulfilled -its work with diligent precision. Anna watched, -and there awoke in her mind the ingenuous beliefs -of her childhood. She spoke of wonderful dwellings -that the ants excavated beneath the earth. -The brother replied with an accent of intense -faith, “God be praised!” And both remained -pensive, beneath the greatness, while worshipping -God in their hearts. -</p> - -<p> -In the early hours of the evening they arrived -in the country of Ortona. Anna knocked at the -door of the monastery and asked to see the abbess. -On entering they saw a little court paved with -black and white stone with a cistern in the centre. -The reception parlour was a low room, with a few -chairs around it; two walls were occupied by a -grating, the other two by a crucifix and images. -Anna was immediately seized by a feeling of veneration -for the solemn peace that reigned in this -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span> -spot. When the Mother Veronica appeared unexpectedly -behind the grating, tall and severe in -her monastic habit, Anna experienced an unspeakable -confusion as if in the presence of a supernatural -apparition. Then, reassured by the kind -smile of the abbess, she delivered her message -briefly, placed her boxes in the cavity of the turnstile -and waited. The Mother Veronica moved -about her benignly, watching her with her beautiful -lion-like eyes; she gave her an effigy of the -Virgin, and in taking leave she extended her illustrious -hand to be kissed through the grating, and -disappeared. -</p> - -<p> -Anna went out full of trepidation. As she -passed the vestibule, there reached her ears a -chorus of litanies, a song, very regular and sweet, -which came perhaps from some subterranean -chapel. When she passed through the court she -saw on the left, at the top of the wall, a branch -loaded with oranges. And, as she set foot again -on the road, she seemed to have left behind her -a garden of blessedness. -</p> - -<p> -Then she turned toward the eastern road in -order to search for her relations. At the door of -the old house an unknown woman stood leaning -against the door-post. Anna approached her -timidly and asked news of the family of Francesca -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span> -Nobile. The woman interrupted her: “Why? -Why? What did she want?”—with a voice and -an investigating expression. Then, when Anna -recalled herself, she permitted her to enter. -</p> - -<p> -The relations had almost all died or emigrated. -There remained in the house an old, rich man, -Uncle Mingo, who had taken for his second wife -“the daughter of Sblendore” and lived with her -almost in misery. The old man at first did not -recognise Anna. He was seated upon an old -ecclesiastical chair, whose red material hung in -shreds; his hands rested on the arms, contorted -and rendered enormous through the monstrosity -of gout, his feet with rhythmic movements beat -the earth, while a continuous paralytic trembling -agitated the muscles of his neck, elbows and knees. -As he gazed at Anna he held open with difficulty -his inflamed eyelids. At length he remembered -her. -</p> - -<p> -As Anna proceeded to explain her own experiences, -the daughter of Sblendore, sniffing money, -began to conceive in her mind hopes of usurpation, -and by virtue of these hopes became more benign -in her expression. Anna’s tale was scarcely told -when she offered her hospitality for the night, -took her basket of clothes and laid it down, promised -to take care of her turtle and then made several -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span> -complaints, not without tears, about the infirmity -of the old man and the misery of their -house. Anna went out with her soul full of pity; -she went up the coast toward the belfry of the -church, feeling anxious on approaching it. -</p> - -<p> -Around the Farnese palace the people surged -like billows; and that great feudal relic ornamented -with figures, magnificent in the sunlight, -was most conspicuous. Anna passed through the -crowd, alongside of the benches of the silversmiths -who made sacred apparel and native objects. -At all of that scintillating display of -liturgical forms her heart dilated with joy and -she made the sign of the cross before each bench -as before an altar. When at night she reached -the door of the church and heard the canticle of -the ritual, she could no longer contain her joy -as she advanced as far as the pulpit, with steps -almost vacillating. Her knees bent beneath her -and the tears welled up in her eyes. She remained -there in contemplation of the candelabras, the -ostensories, of all those objects on the altar, her -mind dizzy from having eaten nothing since morning. -An immense weakness seized her nerves and -her soul shrank to the point of annihilation. -Above her, along the central nave, the glass lamps -formed a triple crown of fire. In the distance, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span> -four solid trunks of wax flamed at the sides of -the tabernacle. -</p> - -<h3>XIV</h3> - -<p> -The five days of the festival Anna lived thus -within the church from early morning until the -hour at which the doors were closed—most faithfully -she breathed in that warm air which implanted -in her senses a blissful torpor, in her soul -a joy, full of humility. The orations, the genuflections, -the salutations, all of those formulas, all -of those ritualistic gestures incessantly repeated, -dulled her senses. The fumes of the incense hid -the earth from her. -</p> - -<p> -Rosaria, the daughter of Sblendore, meanwhile -profited by moving her to pity with lying complaints -and by the miserable spectacle of the -paralytic old man. She was an unprincipled -woman, expert in fraud and dedicated to debauchery; -her entire face was covered with blisters, -red and serpentine, her hair grey, her stomach -obese. Bound to the paralytic by vices common -to both and by marriage, she and he had squandered -in a short time their substance in guzzling -and merry-making. Both in their misery, -venomous from privation, burning with thirst for -wine and liquor, harassed by the infirmities of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span> -decrepitude, were now expiating their prolonged -sinning. -</p> - -<p> -Anna, with a spontaneous impulse for charity, -gave to Rosaria all her money kept for alms-giving -and her superfluous clothes as well as her -earrings, two gold rings and her coral necklace -and she promised still further support. At length -she retraced the road to Pescara, in company with -Fra Mansueto, and bearing the turtle in her -basket. -</p> - -<p> -During their walk, as the houses of Ortona -withdrew into the distance, a great sadness descended -upon the soul of the woman. Crowds of -singing pilgrims were passing in other directions, -and their songs, monotonous and slow, remained -a long while in the air. Anna listened to -them; an overwhelming desire drew her to join -them, to follow them, to live thus, making pilgrimages -from sanctuary to sanctuary, from country -to country, in order to exalt the miracles of -every saint, the virtues of every relic, the bounty -of every Mary. -</p> - -<p> -“They go to Cucullo,” Fra Mansueto said, -pointing with his arm to some distant country. -And both began to talk of Saint Domenico, who -protected the men from the bite of serpents and -the seed from caterpillars; then they spoke of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span> -the patron saints. At Bugnara, on the bridge of -Rivo, more than a hundred cart-houses, among -horses and mules, laden with fruit, were going in -a procession to the Madonna of the Snow. The -devotees rode on their chargers, with sprigs of -spikenard on their heads, with strings of dough -on their shoulders, and they laid at the feet of the -image their cereal gifts. At Bisenti, many youths, -with baskets of grain on their heads, were conducting -along the roads an ass that carried on its -back a larger basket, and they entered the Church -of the Madonna of the Angels, to offer them up, -while singing. At Torricella Peligna, men and -children, crowned with roses and garlands of -roses, went up on a pilgrimage to the Madonna -of the Roses, situated upon a cliff where was the -foot-prints of Samson. At Loreto Apentino a -white ox, fattened during the year with abundance -of pasturage, moved in pomp behind the statue -of Saint Zopito. A red drapery covered him and -a child rode upon him. As the sacred ox entered -the church, he gave forth the excrescence of his -food and the devotees from this smoking material -presaged future agriculture. -</p> - -<p> -Of such religious usages Anna and Fra -Mansueto were speaking, when they reached the -mouth of the Alento. The Channel carried the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span> -water of spring between the green foliage not -yet flowered. And the Capuchin spoke of the -Madonna of the Incoronati, where for the festival -of Saint John the devotees wreath their heads -with vines, and during the night go with great rejoicing -to the River Gizio to bathe. -</p> - -<p> -Anna removed her shoes in order to ford the -river. She felt now in her soul an immense and -loving veneration for everything, for the trees, -the grass, the animals, for all that those Catholic -customs had sanctified. Thus from the depths of -her ignorance and simplicity arose the instinct of -idolatry. -</p> - -<p> -Several months after her return, an epidemic -of cholera broke out in the country, and the -mortality was great. Anna lent her services to -the poor sick ones. Fra Mansueto died. Anna -felt much grief at this. In the year 1866, at the -recurrence of the festival, she wished to take leave -and return to her native place forever, because -she saw in her sleep every night Saint Thomas -who commanded her to depart. So she took the -turtle, her clothes and her savings, weeping she -kissed the hand of Donna Cristina, and departed -upon a cart, together with two begging nuns. -</p> - -<p> -At Ortona she dwelt in the house of her -paralytic uncle. She slept upon a straw pallet and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span> -ate nothing but bread and vegetables. She dedicated -every hour of the day to the practices of -the Church, with a marvellous fervour, and her -mind gradually lost all ability to do anything save -contemplate Christian mysteries, adore symbols -and imagine Paradise. She was completely absorbed -with divine charity, completely encompassed -with that divine passion which the sacerdotals -manifest always with the same signs and -the same words. She comprehended but that one -single language; had but that one single refuge, -sweet and solemn, where her whole heart dilated -in a pious security of peace and where her eyes -moistened with an ineffable sweetness of tears. -</p> - -<p> -She suffered, for the love of Jesus, domestic -miseries, was gentle and submissive and never -proffered a lament, a reproof, or a threat. -Rosaria extracted from her little by little all of -her savings, and commenced then to let her go -hungry, to overtax her, to call her vicious names -and to persecute the turtle with fierce insistency. -The old paralytic gave forth continuously a -species of hoarse howls, opening his mouth where -the tongue trembled and from which dripped continually -quantities of saliva. One day, because -his greedy wife swallowed before him some liquor -and denied him a drink, escaping with the glass, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span> -he arose from his chair with an effort and began -to walk toward her, his legs wavering, his feet -striking the ground with an involuntary rhythmic -stroke. Suddenly he moved faster, his trunk bent -forward, while hopping with short pursuing steps, -as if pushed by an irresistible impulse, until at -length he fell face downward upon the edge of the -stairs. -</p> - -<h3>XV</h3> - -<p> -Then Anna, in distress, took the turtle and went -to ask succour of Donna Veronica Monteferrante. -As the poor woman had already done several -services for the monastery, the Abbess, pitying -her, gave her work as a serving-nun. -</p> - -<p> -Anna, though she had not taken the orders, -dressed in the nun’s costume: the black tunic, the -throat-bands, the head-dress with its ample white -brims. She seemed to herself, in that habit, to -be sanctified. And at first, when the air flapped -the brims around her head with a noise as of -wings, she shuddered with a sudden confusion in -her veins. Also when the brims struck by the sun -reflected on her face the colour of snow, she suddenly -felt herself illuminated by a mystic ray. -</p> - -<p> -With the passing of time, her ecstasies became -more frequent. The grey-haired virgin was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span> -thrilled from time to time by angelic songs, by -distant echoes of organs, by rumours and voices -not perceptible to other ears. Luminous figures -presented themselves to her in the darkness, -odours of Paradise carried her out of herself. -</p> - -<p> -Thus a kind of sacred horror began to spread -through the monastery as if through the presence -of some occult power, as if through the imminence -of some supernatural event. As a precaution the -new convert was released from every obligation -pertaining to servile work. All of her positions, -all of her words, all of her glances were observed -and commented upon with superstition. And the -legend of her sanctity began to flower. -</p> - -<p> -On the first of February in the year of Our -Lord 1873, the voice of the virgin Anna became -singularly hoarse and deep. Later her -power of speech suddenly disappeared. This unexpected -dumbness terrified the minds of the nuns. -And all, standing around the convert, considered -with mystic terror her ecstatic postures, the vague -motions of her mute mouth and the immobility -of her eyes from which overflowed at intervals -inundations of tears. The lineaments of the sick -woman, extenuated by long fastings, had now assumed -a purity almost of ivory, while the entire -outlines of her arteries now seemed to be visible, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span> -and projected in such strong relief and palpitated -so incessantly, that before that open palpitation -of blood a kind of dread seized the nuns, as if -they were viewing a body stripped of its skin. -</p> - -<p> -When the month of Mary drew near, a loving -diligence prompted the Benedictines to the preparation -of an oratory. They scattered throughout -the cloisteral garden, all flowering with roses and -fruitful with oranges, while they gathered the -harvest of early May in order to lay it at the -foot of the altar. Anna having recovered her -usual state of calmness, descended likewise to -help at the pious work. She conveyed often with -gestures the thoughts which her obstinate muteness -forbade her to express. All of the brides of -Our Lord lingered in the sun, walking among the -fountains luxuriant with perfume. There was on -one side of the garden a door, and as in the souls -of the virgins the perfumes awoke suppressed -thought, so the sun in penetrating beneath the -two arches revived in the plaster the residue of -Byzantine gold. -</p> - -<p> -The oratory was ready for the day of the first -prayer. The ceremony began after the Vespers. -A sister mounted to the organ. Presently from -the keys the cry of the Passion penetrated everywhere, -all foreheads bowed, the censers gave out -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span> -the fumes of jasmine and the flames of the tapers -palpitated among crowns of flowers. Then arose -the canticles, the litanies full of symbolic appellations -and supplicating tenderness. As the voices -mounted with increasing strength, Anna, impelled -by the immense force of her fervour, screamed. -Struck with wonder, she fell supine, agitating her -arms and trying to arise. The litanies stopped. -The sisters, several almost terrified, had remained -an instant immobile while others gave assistance -to the sick woman. The miracle seemed to them -most unexpected, brilliant and supreme. -</p> - -<p> -Then, little by little, stupor, uncertain murmurs -and vacillation were succeeded by a rejoicing without -limit, a chorus of clamorous exaltations and a -mingled drowsiness as of inebriety. Anna, on her -knees, still absorbed in the rapture of the miracle, -was not conscious of what was happening around -her. But when the canticles with greater vehemence -were begun again, she sang too. Her notes -from the descending waves of the chorus, at intervals -emerged, since the devotees diminished the -force of their voices in order to hear that one -which by divine grace had been restored. And the -Virgin became from time to time the censer of -gold from which they exhaled sweet balsam, she -was the lamp that by day and night lighted the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span> -sanctuary, the urn that enclosed the manna from -heaven, the flame that burned without consuming, -the stem of Jesse that bore the most beautiful of -all flowers. -</p> - -<p> -Afterwards the fame of the miracle spread -from the monastery throughout the entire country -of Ortona and from the country to all adjoining -lands, growing as it travelled. And the -monastery rose to great respect. Donna Blandina -Onofrii, the magnificent, presented to the Madonna -of the Oratorio a vest of brocaded silver -and a rare necklace of turquoise came from the -island of Smyrna. The other Ortosian ladies -gave other minor gifts. The Archbishop of -Orsagna made with pomp a congratulatory visit, -in which he exchanged words of eloquence with -Anna, who “from the purity of her life had been -rendered worthy of celestial gifts.” -</p> - -<p> -In August of the year 1876 new prodigies arrived. -The infirm woman, when she approached -vespers, fell in a state of cataleptic ecstasy; from -which she arose later almost with violence. On -her feet, while preserving always the same position, -she began to talk, at first slowly and then -gradually accelerating, as if beneath the urgency -of a mystic inspiration. Her eloquence was but a -tumultuous medley of words, of phrases, of entire -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span> -selections learned before, which now in her unconsciousness -reproduced themselves, growing -fragmentary or combining without sequence. -</p> - -<p> -She repeated native dialectic expressions -mingled with courtly forms, and with the hyperboles -of Biblical language as well as extraordinary -conjunctions of syllables and scarcely audible harmonies -of songs. But the profound trembling of -her voice, the sudden changes of inflection, the -alternate ascending and descending of the tone, -the spirituality of the ecstatic figure, the mystery -of the hour, all helped to make a profound impression -upon the onlookers. -</p> - -<p> -These effects repeated themselves daily, with a -periodic regularity. At vespers in the oratorio -they lit the lamps; the nuns made a kneeling circle, -and the sacred representation began. As the infirm -woman entered into the cataleptic ecstasies, -vague preludes on the organ lifted the souls of the -worshippers to a higher sphere. The light of the -lamps was diffused on high, giving forth an uncertain -flicker, and a fading sweetness to the appearance -of things. At a certain point the organ -was silent. The respiration of the infirm woman -became deeper, her arms were stretched so that in -the emaciated wrists the tendons vibrated like the -strings of an instrument. Then suddenly, the sick -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span> -woman bounded to her feet, crossed her arms on -her breast, while resting in the position of the -Caryatides of a Baptistery. Her voice resounded -in the silence, now sweetly, now lugubriously, now -placid, almost always incomprehensible. -</p> - -<p> -At the beginning of the year 1877 these -paroxysms diminished in frequency, they occurred -two or three times a week and then totally disappeared, -leaving the body of the woman in a -miserable state of weakness. Then several years -passed, in which the poor idiot lived in atrocious -suffering, with her limbs rendered inert from -muscular spasms. She was no longer able to keep -herself clean, she ate only soft bread and a few -herbs and wore around her neck and on her breast -a large quantity of little crosses, relics and other -images. She spoke stutteringly through lack of -teeth and her hair fell out, her eyes were already -glazed like those of an old beast of burden about -to die. -</p> - -<p> -One time, in May, while she was suffering, deposited -under the portal, and the sisters were -gathering the roses for Maria, there passed before -her the turtle which still dragged its pacific -and innocent life through the cloisteral garden. -The old woman saw it move and little by little -recede. It awakened no recollection in her mind. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span> -The turtle lost itself among the bunches of thyme. -</p> - -<p> -But the sisters regarded her imbecility and the -infirmity of the woman as one of those supreme -proofs of martyrdom to which the Lord calls the -elect in order to sanctify and glorify them later -in Paradise and they surrounded her with veneration -and care. -</p> - -<p> -In the summer of the year 1881, there appeared -signs of approaching death. Consumed -and maimed, that miserable body no longer resembled -a human being. Slow deformations had -corrupted the joints of the arms; tumours, large -as apples, protruded from her sides, on her shoulder -and on the back of her head. -</p> - -<p> -The morning of the 10th day of September, -about the eighth hour, a trembling of the earth -shook Ortona to its foundations. Many buildings -fell, the roofs and walls of others were injured, -and still others were bent and twisted. All -of the good people of Ortona, with weeping, with -cries, with invocations, with great invoking of -saints and madonnas, came out of their doors and -assembled on the plain of San Rocco, fearing -greater perils. The nuns, seized with panic, broke -from the cloister and ran into the streets, -struggling and seeking safety. Four of them bore -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span> -Anna upon a table. And all drew toward the -plain, in the direction of the uninjured people. -</p> - -<p> -As they arrived in sight of the people, spontaneous -shouts arose, since the presence of these -religious souls seemed propitious. On all sides -lay the sick, the aged and infirm, children in -swaddling clothes, women stupid from fear. A -beautiful morning sun shed lustre upon the tumultuous -waves of the sea and upon the vineyards; and -along the lower coast the sailors ran, seeking their -wives, calling their children by name, out of -breath, and hoarse from climbing; and from Caldara -there began to arrive herds of sheep and -oxen with their keepers, flocks of turkey-cocks -with their feminine guardians, and cart-houses, -since all feared solitude and men and beasts in -the turmoil became comrades. -</p> - -<p> -Anna, resting upon the ground, beneath an olive -tree, perceiving death to be near, was mourning -with a weak murmur, because she did not wish to -die without the Sacrament, and the nuns around -her administered comfort to her, and the bystanders -looked at her piously. Now, suddenly among -the people spread the news that from the Porta -Caldara had issued the image of the Apostle. -Hope revived and hymns of thanksgiving mounted -to the sky. As from afar vibrated an unexpected -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span> -flash, the women knelt and tearfully with -their hair dishevelled, began to walk upon their -knees, towards the flash, while intoning psalms. -</p> - -<p> -Anna became agonised. Sustained by two sisters, -she heard the prayers, heard the announcement, -and perhaps under her last illusions, she saw -the Apostle approaching, for over her hollow face -there passed a smile of joy. Several bubbles of -saliva appeared upon her lips, a violent undulation -of her body occurred, extended visibly to the extremities -of her body, while upon her eyes the eyelids -fell, reddish as from thin blood, and her head -shrank into her shoulders. Thus the virgin Anna -finally expired. -</p> - -<p> -When the flash appeared more closely to the -adoring women, there shone in the sun the form -of a beast of burden carrying balanced upon its -back, according to the custom, an ornament of -metal. -</p> - -<p class="pad2 center large"> -THE END -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span> -</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="fill-mark"></a> - <img src="images/ill-mark.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="tnote"> -<p class="tntitle"> -Transcriber's Notes -</p> - -<p> -Original spelling and punctuation have been preserved as much as possible. Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. -</p> - -<p class="covernote"> -Cover created by Transcriber and placed into the Public Domain. -</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Tales of My Native Town, by Gabriele D'Annunzio - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF MY NATIVE TOWN *** - -***** This file should be named 55742-h.htm or 55742-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/7/4/55742/ - -Produced by ellinora, Barbara Magni and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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 print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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