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diff --git a/76655-0.txt b/76655-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd38759 --- /dev/null +++ b/76655-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6088 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76655 *** + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Cover art] + + + +[Frontispiece: Gabriele d'Annunzio] + + + + + THE + DAUGHTER OF JORIO + + A PASTORAL TRAGEDY + + + BY + GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO + + + TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN + BY + CHARLOTTE PORTER, PIETRO ISOLA + AND ALICE HENRY + + + WITH A PORTRAIT AND PICTURES FROM THE + ITALIAN PRODUCTION + + + + BOSTON + LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY + 1907 + + + + + Copyright, 1904, + BY GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO. + + Copyright, 1907, + BY DIRCÉ ST. CYR. + Stage rights reserved + + Copyright, 1907, + BY THE POET LORE COMPANY. + + Copyright, 1907, + BY LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY. + All rights reserved + + + Published November, 1907 + + THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. + + + + + TO + THE LAND OF THE ABRUZZI, TO MY MOTHER + TO MY SISTERS, TO MY BROTHERS + ALSO + TO MY FATHER, ENTOMBED, TO ALL MY DEAD + AND TO ALL MY RACE BETWEEN THE + MOUNTAIN AND THE SEA + THIS SONG OF THE ANTIQUE BLOOD + I CONSECRATE + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +An elemental savor of the savage blood of the ancient race clings to +the country of the Abruzzi. This elemental quality, intensely +impressional and tragic, underlies the light sensitive beauty and +bright artistic grace characteristic of Italy in general. + +The lore and customs of the native folk, growing the vine and olive +in the sunny slopes running seaward to the southern Adriatic, have +been shut away from the easy touch of western Europe by the towering +ridge of the Apennines, on whose rugged slopes the sheep are +pastured. It is still the most archaic, the most stubbornly +unmetropolitan corner of Italy. Here, even more than elsewhere in +the country beloved of all other younger countries, the mediæval and +the Pagan worlds linger intimately together, blending faiths and +customs. It is a good soil and a fertile for growing an enduring +masterpiece that shall gather Italy up into its being, and taste of +the profound, immortal heart of the land. + +In this land of the Abruzzi, and in the dim enchanted epoch of "once +upon a time," "The Daughter of Jorio" is set. As the drama unfolds +it carries with it this charmed atmosphere. Who reads or hears this +"song of the antique blood" is suddenly at home, too, in the Abruzzi, +and catches the life along with the music of many years ago. + +As descendants from the Abruzzi stock, two friends--D'Annunzio, the +poet, and Michetti, the painter, travelled throughout their +fatherland together, faring up the majestic snow-cloaked Maella and +the precipitous Gran Sasso, to and fro among the rocky sheepsteads +and caverns of the mountains, and along the bordering stretches of +sea-shore. + +They heard, then, a name, spoken in a way belonging to common custom +there. Grown persons in this pastoral region are still known in +patriarchal manner, not by their own names but merely as son or +daughter of their father. The melody of the name thus heard haunted +the memories of the artist-travellers. As the gipsy refrain Browning +heard while a boy thrilled his blood like a call from the +Wild--"Following the Queen of the Gipsies, O!" and bore poetic fruit +long afterward in "The Flight of the Duchess," so, likewise, this +sonorous name stirred the secret chords of artistic response in the +imagination of these two friends and bore subconscious fruit in them. +The fruit is different enough, yet of a kindred germ and flavor. +Each has rendered it as a tribute to the mother-country in whose +traditions he was cradled. + +The name they heard--"La figlia di Jorio," meaning much to them, +little to another,--may now be understood to be in itself eloquent of +the old tribal feeling. This feeling, sinking the son in the father, +places him apart from any other rule or influence than that of his +own kith and kin. It admits no honorable union with one outside the +clan without pang and social upheaval. + +The mere name thus held within it, for the imaginative conception of +genius, the seed of tragic social clash between alien castes or +warring rival families. Such clash between warring Italian families +Shakespeare showed in the love of a Capulet and a Montague. The +imperative elemental drawing together of Juliet and her Romeo ran +counter to long-established grooves of social cleavage. It was a +cleavage not to be welded except through the woe and spiritual +triumph of love. Such clash between the established pastoral clan +and the outcast is the theme which slumbered in this name for both +D'Annunzio and Michetti. D'Annunzio's development of it leads by a +different path to a triumph of love as spiritually exalting and as +socially significant as Shakespeare's. + +For Michetti, the haunting name resulted, shortly after their +journey, in some wonderful pictures,--sketches in water-color for a +great painting in oil, now owned in Berlin, where it gives lustre to +the Geeger collection,--later a large pastel exhibited in 1895, in +the International Exposition of the Fine Arts at Venice. + +Michetti's imagination presented the daughter of Jorio as a wanderer, +with a cloak covering her head and held shieldingly over the breast +by the right hand, while she passes a group of staring rustics. Her +long rushing strides, as of one who "knows well the pathways," have a +strangely alluring motion, like that of a majestic hunted fugitive. +One of the five men whose gaze she attracts is riveted by her look. +To the others she means less than nothing. She is an outcast or a +laughing-stock. To this one she means a mystic appeal thrown into +his life to stamp it forever. + +Not until many years after the journey through the Abruzzi, in 1903, +at Mettuno, the haunting name, fused with some germinal impression +flowing from Michetti's pictures, resulted for D'Annunzio in his "La +Figlia di Jorio." The plot is of his own pure imagination all +compact. It rests upon no legend, he says. The creative idea came +in a compelling influence that gripped him while busied in other +absorbing poetic work belonging to a series he has had in mind, and +involving historic research in the past of Italy. These annals of +the Malatesta this sudden influence bade him put aside. It called +him, instead, to pour himself out, with an ardor imperious and +self-assured, in a glowing flood of strongly-stressed rhythmic +poetry. The flood of fire took molten shape in this tragedy. It +embodied not the historic life of warring nobles, but the obscure, +toiling, pastoral life of antique Italy. + +The result is a tragedy vividly spectacular, dramatically strong and +simple. The picturesque loveliness belonging to the opening of each +act is cut sharply across with the ruthless inrush of direct vital +action. Into the graceful beauty of the lyrical espousal scene of +the first Act is thrust the pitiless hunting down of Mila, the +daughter of Jorio, by the brutal barking band of reapers. In the +midst of the serene idealism of the uplifted group in Aligi's meagre +mountain cave, where, in the second Act, love and art and insight +reinforce and befriend each other, close, even, upon the sanctity of +the kiss of the kneeling lovers, is thrust the crass bestial +domination of the lusty Lazaro, equipped and privileged to do his +evil will. This, perforce, leads to the lightning stroke of the +murder. Finally, in the third Act, the poetic veil of meandering +lament and tender commiseration of the kindred for the stricken +family is rent away by the brusque entrance, the swift direct speech, +and decisive help of the daughter of Jorio. The self-sacrifice of +her ripened transcendent love is then the opportunity for +concentrating against her the blind clamor of their crude social +justice. The final climax of contrasts is attained by these +tumultuous voices of the surging mob on the one side crying, "To the +fire, to the flames with the daughter of Jorio!" and, on the other +side, by the voice of the clear-sighted Ornella calling in majesty, +"Mila, Mila! My sister in Jesus, I kiss your two feet that bear you +away! Heaven is for thee!" and the soaring, rapturous voice of Mila, +the outcast, who has taken all their sins upon herself, and who +cries, "The flame is beautiful! The flame is beautiful!" + +These clear-cut contrasts are masterly for the stage either of the +theatre or the human breast. They strike to the quick of each +character, to the core of the meaning of every situation. Throwing +open each particular heart in its degree to comprehension, they +reveal it also to sympathy. At the same time they cast upon the +social sanction of the evil domination of Lazaro and upon the +separate woes of all those "who suffer and know not wherefore," the +larger light insensibly illumining the plot as a whole and disclosing +its typical relation to the plot of life in general. Thus, in the +emotionalized manner possible only to genius at mountain-peak +moments, the play illumines the perennial relations of a predestined +love to art and aspiration and of all three to social life, which +sacrifices all three when it wists not what it does. + +The vivid picturesqueness of such scenes as those of the espousal +rites, in the first Act; the mourning of the kindred, and the +folk-judgment of the third Act; the interesting figures of Malde, the +treasure-seeker, the herb gatherer, and the wise old saint of the +mountain of the second Act; in fact, the homely episodes of pastoral +life throughout the drama rest upon traditional customs and rooted +beliefs of the Abruzzi. + +At Pratola, Peligna, and other places in the Abruzzi the +mother-in-law receives her son's bride into her house with a nuptial +ritual full of poetic symbolism,--a ritual independent of that of the +Church. According to Antonio de Nino,--whose work on the "Habits and +Customs of the Abruzzi" scientifically verifies the folk-lore +D'Annunzio puts alive before us,--the mother breaks the bread, the +symbol of fertility, over the son and the daughter. And as she +touches the forehead, breast, and shoulders, she says: "May we live +together like Christians and not like cats and dogs." She initiates +her new daughter to her fireside by calling to her notice +home-objects to which special virtue was attributed: the +andiron-chain that could lull storms; the mortar that, if placed on +the window-sill, lured back the stray pigeon; the salt, which if hung +in a pouch around the baby's neck could keep it safe from the vampire. + +The bride's kindred came to share in the ceremonial of espousal, as +in the play, first gathering at the house of the mother, whom they +always brought with them with honor at the close of their procession. +To the new home they advanced in single file, bearing on their heads +the _donora_, gifts of baskets of grain, with fluttering ribbons, and +on top a loaf and a flower. There was always some play of chaffering +at the door, barred, as in this drama, with a ribbon or scarf +stretched between a distaff and a bident, the implements emblematic +of woman and man. The exchange of a piece of money always closed the +bargain and gained them entrance. Then, every woman, passing on in +turn to the bridal pair, before lowering her basket, took from it a +handful of grain and scattered it over each head, saying: "This is +the bread God and our Lady send you. May you grow old together!" + +The folk-ritual for burial and the improvisation of the laments by +the wailers were so elaborate that the ecclesiastical authorities +kept a jealous eye over their excesses. A decree of 1734 is +peculiarly interesting on account of the recognition it supplies that +these customs were bequests from a Pagan age. It declares that if +the women who indulge in the abuse of mourning at funerals "continue +to disturb the churchly office with lamentation and wailing and other +such practices of paganism," the clergy shall cease all ministration +and leave them with the body until they go home and "let the body +alone, so that the service can be followed according to the usage of +the Roman ritual." + +Greater poetic interest belongs to the _laudi_ in the Abruzzi +dialect, examples of which are given in De Nino's fourth volume (_Usi +e costumi abbruzzesi par_ Antonio de Nino. 5 vols. Barbera, +Florence. 1879-1891). From the text of one of these, several verses +are employed by D'Annunzio in the third Act. He greatly enhances +their dramatic effect by putting them in the mouth of Candia, when +with wandering, benumbed wits she repeats bits of the dialogue +between the Sacred Mother and her suffering Son, half confusing her +own sorrows over her son Aligi with those of the Mater Dolorosa. + +In all such instances heightened beauty and significance are given to +the Abruzzi usages with the surest and most delicate art. The throb +of life animates it. Yet the homely truth to reality behind the +adroit touches of art gifts the play with vigor and concreteness. + +Even the passing reference of Splendore to the petticoat "of a dozen +breadths' fulness" is true, for example, to the dress of the women of +Scanno. The bridal raiment of green, also, "Of gold and silver the +yoke is fashioned But all the rest like the quiet verdure," is true +to the preference for green of the brides of Canzano. + +Such games of rivalry for the straightest furrow, as that of which +Candia reminds her son, were held at Sora. In presence of the old +men the youths ran the plough from the crest of the hill to the foot +of the valley, when the prize, a hat or a scarf, was adjudged. + +The "barking" of the reapers "like dogs at each passer" was an +ancient license of disorder at harvest time, called _fare +l'incanata_. So, the call for the wine-jug was a custom belonging to +the serenade of the bridal pair on the marriage night. The song +over, the singers expected wine, cheese, and a loaf to be handed them +outside the door. + +As Aligi's cavern, the scene of the second Act, has its prototype in +an actual cavern on the mountain in Abruzzia, from which Michetti +made sketches for stage use in the Milan production, so also the +shepherd life, as it is presented especially in this Act, has its +model in reality. Their quiet existence, aloft among the peaks, +leaves the shepherds time to carve their sheep-hooks, as Aligi did, +and to achieve such other artistry in wood as Aligi masters. Their +neighbor, the sky, makes dreamers of them, too, like Aligi, and not +infrequently poets. The mountain affords them such comrades as Aligi +had in Malde, the treasure-diviner, the herb-woman, wise in +efficacious simples, and the lofty, serene-minded Cosmo. Perhaps +Cosmo is not meant to differ greatly in nature from the distinguished +saint of the Morrone mentioned by Aligi, Pietro Celestino, who was +made Pope Celestin V. in 1294, but who, only a few months afterwards, +abjured the stateliness of Rome for the hermit's retired life upon +the mountain-side. The habit of life, indicated by Aligi, is that of +the shepherds described by Finamore (_Il pastore e la pastorizia in +Abruzzo_ in _Archivo per lo studio della tradizioni popolari_, IV. +190). They select a sheepstead in the spring and collect their +flocks, living near them in caves or huts during the summer, but +going down to the village fortnightly for a three days' rest; and in +the autumn coming down with their flocks, and going on with them +either toward Rome or Puglia. Through the valleys and across the +mountains they hear the singing Pilgrims passing continually, as they +so effectively come and go in the stage directions of the second Act, +faring to and fro on the way to such shrines as Splendore mentions in +her reassuring words to Mila,--Santa Maria della Potenza, and the +Incoronata. + +On the eve of the Celebration of St. John's Beheading (August 29) the +Plaia or the Virgine is climbed, according to custom, toward +midnight, so that the red disk of the August sun may be seen at dawn +from the hilltop. To the beholder of the apparition of the saint's +bleeding head in the disk it was accounted, as Aligi deemed it, a +miraculous sign of God's favor. + +D'Annunzio himself maintains as to one of the superstitions he has +known how to weave predominatingly into the plot, namely, the +sanctity of the fireplace as a refuge from violence, that it is +Jewish rather than Italian. It may be so. In any case he has +exercised the right of a poet to use for his higher verities what he +needs and has the art to employ vitally and well. It may be, too, +that he has been peculiarly happy in grafting so distinctly Jewish a +belief on the rest of his more peculiarly Christian and Latin +beliefs, because there is an inner link of association between Mila's +fireside and such a sanctuary from their pursuers as the Adonijahs +and Joabs claimed when they "laid hold upon the horns of the altar." +Feasts were held and burnt offerings were devoted to Jehovah on such +altars. And similarly sacred to the gods of the hearthstone of the +ancient race--the Lares and Penates--was the fireside of the Romans. +The antique usage that marks the fireplace and sets it apart as the +altar or temple of the homestead is architecturally preserved in +ancient Italian buildings by the monumental setting of the +hearthstone above the level of the floor and the prominent hood to +the chimney. The utility of this arrangement, as usual with +folk-myths, has not hindered, but rather attracted, a religious +explanation. + +Such a fireplace is an important trait of the stage directions in the +first Act for the scene-setting of the home of the Di Roio family. +It is in accord, like all the rest of the furnishings of the house, +with the record De Nino supplies of the typical Abruzzi homestead. + +When the daughter of the alien, of the sorcerer Jorio, claims +sanctuary at the hearth, she claims it not alone because she is +Christian and therefore can justly make appeal to the God of this +hearth and this household. It is significant that she also makes her +appeal by virtue of the old laws of the hearthstone, to gods of the +Pagan race and the ancient kinsfolk. The sacredness of the fireplace +as the altar of each home is, in fact, not confined to any race. The +North American Indian, as well as the Roman, regards it religiously. +Such faiths grow from a human root. + +In the play, the hearth, like the Jewish altar, becomes a mercy-seat, +to be held inviolate from violence and also from profanation. Mila +seeks it as a shrine and shield from violence. The kindred declare +that she profanes it. + +The dependence of the second and third Acts upon the Roman law of the +absolute dominion of the father over the son, and the extreme penalty +for parricide of the sack and the mastiff and the deep sea is +justified by the ancient Latin code, as given in the digest of +Modestinus (xlviii, tit. 9, § 9). The persistence in the bucolic +mind of such grim ancestral morality causes such a code to outlive +its natural decay. + +One of the allusions to the ancient credulities of the Abruzzi which +is most essential to the plot is Aligi's vision in the first Act of +Mila's guardian angel standing behind her weeping, and thus in +silence revealing the innocency of her wronged soul. The common +faith in the judgment of God upon the deeds of men being made clear +in a flash by the sudden sight of the angel in tears finds expression +in the proverbial sayings: "If you would measure the offence, look +behind the right shoulder of him whom you have offended." "If you +make your sister weep, you make the silent angel weep." "If you +forget to be just, the angel weeps." + +Curious and interesting as all these veritable traces of folk-lore +may seem, they are but the dry bones to which the poet has given +flesh and breath. Not alone the rich deep soil of primitive custom +and religion in which he has rooted the play, but the spirit of +mystery primeval--older than Christianity or any one religious +influence--in which the play is wrapped, as in the atmosphere +necessary to its life, is indicated by D'Annunzio himself in his +"Triumph of Death": + +"Rites of religions dead and forgotten survive there; +incomprehensible symbols of potencies long fallen into decay remain +intact there; habits of primitive peoples forever passed away persist +there, handed down without change from generation to generation; rich +customs, foreign and useless, retained there are the witnesses to the +nobility and beauty of an anterior life.... In all pomps and +ceremonies, work and play, in births and love, nuptials and, +funerals,--everywhere present and visible, there is a georgic +symbolism; everywhere the Titanic generating Mother Earth is +represented and reverenced as the bosom whence sprang the founts of +all good and all happiness." + +When Mila is left in the cave, in the second Act, alone with the +ecstasy and anguish of her love for Aligi, and while she kneels +before the Christian symbol of motherhood, she turns also to this +hoary Earth, the mother of all motherhood, as the child in trouble to +the all-embracing mother-heart. + +The love which she and Aligi feel within them is profoundly rooted in +that elemental mystery to which it has newly opened their +consciousness. It is more ancient far than any of the ties of habit +and family to which Aligi has been the embodiment of faithful +allegiance all his life before. Older than allegiance to the family +or the clan is the allegiance of lover and beloved, as the individual +man is prior to the tribal man. + +As the play opens, the divine trouble of allegiance to this more +fundamental power has come upon Aligi dimly. Forebodings of the woe +of his attempted reconciliation of the two allegiances are sapping +his energy. In the depths of his soul is divined the fatal approach +of supreme love, the predestined child of this secret power of the +older time. The shadow of this approach girds him about in slumber +as in a shield by the side of the bride whose soul is no mate for his +soul. It holds him aloof until Mila comes. Then it plunges his old +allegiance, his most religiously dutiful subordination to the life of +kindred and family, into vital conflict with the inward sense of the +mystical power claiming a higher allegiance, a deeper, all-embracing +reverence. + +The situation is a dramatic bodying forth of further words of +D'Annunzio upon the mystery brooding in the land of the antique blood: + +"Mystery intervenes in all events, envelops and constrains every +existence; and supernatural life dominates, overwhelms, and absorbs +ordinary life." + +Put into action, this is the clash of the ordinary fealty with a +fealty older, more personal, and through the art and the sacrifice +begotten of love, more rewarding to spiritual life. The hand of the +tribe has been ever against an overlordship of this spiritual kind, +knitting together the clansman and the alien, and substituting for +the child recruiting the solidarity of the clan, the Angel of Art +recruiting the very soul of the clan. To burn as an Apostate Angel +this Angel of Art along with the witch whose charm has awakened in +the lover's soul the capacity to show it forth--this is the usual +course of the clan. Only the Ornellas, the youngest and littlest of +its generation, are as prompt to see and to save as its privileged +heads, the Lazaros, are to desecrate and embrutalize. + +Like Heinrich in Hauptmann's "Sunken Bell," Aligi is a dreamer. But +unlike Heinrich, he is no waverer. His dream is true. To the +divination it bestows he is true. As long as his soul and his senses +are intact to repel the benumbing influence of the potion he +disclaims Mila's sacrifice. + +All larger meanings involved in the action are to be inferred as they +are in life. Each may behold for himself. Yet Ornella stands behind +the play, as the angel stood behind Mila. For any, if any there be, +who would question the bearing of its conclusion, Ornella is the +rectification of any possible doubt or misjudgment. Through the eyes +of her vision appears the transcendent loving of Mila. + +No other works of D'Annunzio, not even the beautiful "Francesca," +reach such heights. They have artistry, power, concrete truth to +life in common with "The Daughter of Jorio"; but they do not approach +it in that inner truth to life which unveils the purity and +aspiration of the power of supreme love in life and in art. That +inner life of the power of love hallows this tragedy. Hence the +poet's art gains an unerring potency of touch, and it makes the +loving of Mila worthy of a younger brother of the Dante of the "Vita +Nuova" and the "Paradiso." + +Inseparable from the power of this tragedy to cause the deep things +within to be heard--"The deep things within that come from afar"--are +the incomparably beautiful rhythms in which they are chanted. + +They are the rhythms belonging to the land of the Abruzzi and to +"many years ago." There, says the poet: + +"Mystery and rhythm, these two essential elements of every cult, were +everywhere scattered. Men and women constantly expressed their souls +in song, accompanied by song all their labors under the roof or under +the sky, celebrated by song life and death. Over cradles and +winding-sheets undulated melodies slow and prolonged, very +ancient,--as ancient, perhaps, as the race whose profound sadness +they revealed.... Fixed in unalterable rhythm they seemed fragments +of hymns belonging to immemorial liturgies, surviving the destruction +of some great primordial mythus." + +The poet seems to have loosed the pent-up sources of these immemorial +rhythms. He has dared in part to invent a free dramatico-lyric +verse, in part to recur to archaic forms of verse of like freedom. +In this way he has clothed every motion and gesture, every quiver of +the body of his drama, in a beauty begotten of "the antique blood." + +Such music, sensitive to each catch of the living breath of emotion, +must seek a form more flexible than the iambic pentameters of English +usage or the hexameters or Alexandrines of French. The beauty +belonging to these in their perfection has yet led to a dull monotony +of always-anticipated stress in the perpetuity of their dramatic use +by modern dramatists. The artifice side of verse has been so +over-emphasized, by limitation to a form shut out from the thrill of +an unexpected cadence, that audiences instinctively flee the +infliction of sitting out a modern poetic drama, despite the general +superstition, because of its past glory, that it ought to be forever +and only liked. + +Since the only alternative offered by conventional usage is bald +prose, even this has been gladly accepted in preference, and the +penalty paid of a totally commonplace effect, usually as bare of the +uplift and melody of art as a trolley car. + +D'Annunzio has devised a better way. Heeding the secret of the +manifold effects,--now of the ancient _laudi dramatiche_ of his own +Abruzzi, now of the austerely simple plain-song of the mediæval hymn, +now of some strongly four-stressed Tuscan lyric of the twelfth +century, or even the two-stressed line of the rustic charm,--he has +varied his verse to suit every phase of emotion. He has used iambic +ascending rhythms, in hendecasyllabic lines, generally, for the +serener utterances, such as Candia's blessing in the espousal rites +of Act I; strongly marked trochaic rhythms, in octosyllabic lines, +for intense lyrical outpourings of spirit, such as Mila's song at the +opening of Act II, and swiftly descending dactyllic rhythms, giving +jets of voice to sharp seizures of feeling, such as the fierce outcry +of the Chorus of the Kindred in Act III--_Tempia e tempia, i denti le +sgrani_--"Temple to temple and shell out her teeth." Not only, +moreover, by the frequent employment of a strong initial syllable, +along with iambic or anapestic verse, and other such allowed +liberties, but also by the intercalation of extra syllables or the +omission of others within the normal foot, he has slowed or raced the +pace of the line, in obedience to some push of thought or beat of +purpose. So varied is the effect that the verse is as flexible as +prose speech. Yet the impression is never lawless, for the verse +never escapes the _ictus_ of a pervading inward shapeliness. The +artistic comeliness is felt along with the impetus each variation +pours into the sway of the line. + +Internal rhyme, assonance, and thrice repeated double rhymes still +further prolong or break up the normal effects, so that to the +fluency of the wave of speech is added some momentary shimmering of +its surface, like the fleeting touches of the wind of the spirit +otherwise viewless. + +Such internal rhymes, repetitions, and assonances, for example, occur +in the dialogue of Mila and Aligi in the second Act: _Pei monti +coglierai le genzianellè Eper le spiagge le stelle marine_.--"To cull +on the hilltop the blue gentian lonely, On the sea-shore only the +star-fish flower." _Si cammina cammina lungo il mare_.--"I border +the bordering stretches of sea-shore." Or such double rhymes appear +as in Femo di Nerfa's: _Prima che la mano gli tàglino, Prima che nel +sacco lo sèrrino, Col can mastino e lo gèttino, Al fiume in dove fa +gorgo_.--"Before his right hand they shall sever, Before in the +leathern sack they sew him With the savage mastiff and throw him +Where the deep restless waters o'erflow him." + +The tendency of English verse during the Elizabethan renaissance was +toward a musical flexibility akin to D'Annunzio's. Shakespeare's +verse, especially in his ripest work, showed the same tendency before +it was regulated by Pope, who cut it into even lengths of ten +syllables, with every even one stressed, as nearly as he could, by +transposing, eliding, cutting off, or adding--a regulation still +masking as well as marring the native wood-notes wild in all our +modernized texts. + +A similar flexibility belonged to Coleridge's "Christabel," wherein +he recurred to the elder fashion of marking the rhythm sufficiently +by stress to carry the voice as he willed it to go, instead of the +dominant fashion of meting it into uniformly even lengths of counted +syllables. + +Each way should have its own uses for the modern poet according to +the impressional effect he desires. The elder fashion is no more +lawless than the one which has come to be so exclusively followed +through the dominance of French influences at the English Court, in +the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, influences suiting the +growing formalism of the English temperament. Indeed the elder +fashion requires a more expert metrical handling, while the other is +more open to mediocre poetic ability. + +It would be well for the closer hold of poetic art on life, +especially for dramatic use, if less automatically regulated verse +should be revived and developed in England, above all in +America,--such flexible verse as D'Annunzio has revived and developed +in "The Daughter of Jorio." + +To translate such verse into set metres of blank verse or +Alexandrines, in no way corresponding to its peculiar variability, +would be like prisoning a live creature. To do it violence by +uniformly substituting strong endings for weak endings; to reiterate +uniformly the metre arbitrarily chosen to begin with; to exclude all +grace of internal rhyme would be like binding a mobile thing from any +fluttering. Surely it would be to cage the bird whose sensitive +wings the genius of D'Annunzio has freed. + +It has fallen to my especial share in this joint translation to give +to it a verse form. It has seemed to me hopeless,--and my colleagues +are agreed with me in this view--to attempt to give any glimmering +impression of the rhythmic beauty essential to the mystical soul of +this tragedy, save by seeking to reproduce for English ears, by +similarly free methods in freely stressed English verse, an audible +impression corresponding to the impression which the stresses of the +Italian verse have made on my ear as they were spoken. Hence the +desire has been not to be led by the eye, nor to transliterate +analytically the Italian effects in some recognized forms of +imitative prosody, but merely to listen and echo in English some +faint synthetic reflex of the flowing music. + +CHARLOTTE PORTER. + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +Gabriele d'Annunzio ... _Frontispiece_ + +The Feast of Espousal. Act I. + +"O give me peace for my offences." Act I. + +Mila di Codra and Aligi. Act II. + +The Parricide. Act II. + +The Sacrifice of Mila di Codra. Act III. + + + + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ + +LAZARO Di Roio, _Father of Aligi_ + +CANDIA DELLA LEONESSA, _Mother of Aligi_ + +ALIGI, _The Shepherd-Artist_ + +SPLENDORE, FAVETTA, ORNELLA, _Aligi's Sisters_ + +VIENDA Di GIAVE, _Aligi's Bride_ + +MARIA Di GIAVE, _Mother of the Bride_ + +TEODULA DI CINZIO, LA CINERELLA, MONICA BELLA COGNA, ANNA Di BOVA, +FELAVIA, LA CATALANA, MARIA CORA: _The Kindred_ + +MILA Di CODRA, _the Daughter of Jorio the Sorcerer dalle Farne_ + +FEMO Di NERFA + +JENNE DELL' ETA + +IONA DI MIDIA + +THE OLD HERBWOMAN + +THE SAINT OF THE MOUNTAIN + +THE TREASURE DIVINER + +THE DEVIL-POSSESSED YOUTH + +A SHEPHERD + +ANOTHER SHEPHERD + +A REAPER + +ANOTHER REAPER + +THE CROWD OF PEOPLE + +THE CHORUS OF THE KINDRED + +THE CHORUS OF REAPERS + +THE CHORUS OF WAILERS + +SCENE: The Land of the Abruzzi + +TIME: Many years ago. (Placed about the sixteenth century by the +Painter Michetti, who designed the scenes and costumes for the +initial production in Milan.) + + + + +THE DAUGHTER OF JORIO + + + +ACT I.--SCENE I. + +_A room on the ground floor of a rustic house. The large entrance +door opens on a large sunlit yard. Across the door is stretched, to +prevent entrance, a scarlet woollen scarf, held in place at each end +by a forked hoe and a distaff. At one side of the door jamb is a +waxen cross to keep off evil spirits. A smaller closed door, with +its architrave adorned with boxwood green, is on the wall at the +right, and close against the same wall are three ancient wooden +chests. At the left, and set in the depth of the wall, is a chimney +and fire-place with a prominent hood; and a little at one side a +small door, and near this an ancient loom. In the room are to be +seen such utensils and articles of furniture as tables, benches, +hasps, a swift, and hanks of flax and wool hanging from light ropes +drawn between nails or hooks. Also to be seen are jugs, dishes, +plates, bottles and flasks of various sizes and materials, with many +gourds, dried and emptied. Also an ancient bread and flour chest, +the cover of it having a carved panel representing the image of the +Madonna. Beside this the water basin and a rude old table. +Suspended from the ceiling by ropes is a wide, broad board laden with +cheeses. Two windows, iron-grated and high up from the ground, give +light, one at each side of the large door, and in each of the +gratings is stuck a bunch of red buckwheat to ward off evil._ + +SPLENDORE, FAVETTA, ORNELLA, _the three young sisters, are kneeling +each in front of one of the three chests containing the wedding +dresses. They are bending over them and picking out suitable dresses +and ornaments for the bride. Their gay, fresh tones are like the +chanting of morning songs._ + + + + SPLENDORE + + What's your will, our own Vienda? + + + FAVETTA + + What's your will, our dear new sister? + + + SPLENDORE + + Will you choose the gown of woolen, + Would you sooner have the silken, + Sprayed with flowrets red and yellow? + + + ORNELLA [_singing_] + + Only of green shall be my arraying. + Only of green for Santo Giovanni, + For mid the green meadows he came to seek me, + Oili, Oili, Oila! + + + SPLENDORE + + Look! Here is the bodice of wondrous embroidery, + And the yoke with the gleaming thread of silver, + Petticoat rich of a dozen breadths' fulness, + Necklace strung with hundred-beaded coral,-- + All these given you by your new mother. + + + ORNELLA [_singing_] + + Only of green be or gown or bridal chamber! + Oili, oili, oila! + + + FAVETTA + + What's your will, our own Vienda? + + + SPLENDORE + + What's your will, our dear new sister? + + + ORNELLA + + Pendant earrings, clinging necklace, + Blushing ribbons, cherry red? + Hear the ringing bells of noonday, + Hear the bells ring out high noon! + + + SPLENDORE + + See the kindred hither coming, + On their heads the hampers bearing, + Hampers laden with wheat all golden, + And you yet not dressed and ready! + + + ORNELLA + + Bounding, rebounding, + Sheep pass, the hills rounding. + The wolf, through valleys winding, + The nut he seeks is finding,-- + The pistachio nut is finding. + See, the Bride of the Morning! + Matinal as the field-mouse + Going forth at the dawning, + As the woodchuck and squirrel. + Hear, O hear, the bells' whirl! + +[_All these words are spoken very swiftly, and at the close _ORNELLA_ +laughs joyously, her two sisters joining with her._] + + + THE THREE SISTERS + + Oh! Aligi, why then don't you come? + + + SPLENDORE + + Oh! in velvet then must you dress? + + + FAVETTA + + Seven centuries quite, must you rest + With your beautiful, magical Spouse? + + + SPLENDORE + + O your father stays at the harvesting, + Brother mine, and the star of the dawning + In his sickle-blade is showing,-- + In his sickle, no rest knowing. + + + FAVETTA + + And your mother has flavored the wine-cup + And anise-seed mixed with the water, + Sticking cloves in the roast meat + And sweet thyme in the cheeses. + + + SPLENDORE + + And a lamb of the flock we have slaughtered, + Yea, a yearling, but fattened one season, + With head markings and spottings of sable, + For the Bride and the Bridegroom. + + + FAVETTA + + And the mantle, long-sleeved, and cowl-hooded, + For Astorgio we chose it and kept it,-- + For the long-lived gray man of the mountain, + So our fate upon that he foretell us. + + + ORNELLA + + And to-morrow will be San Giovanni, + Dear, my brother! with dawn, San Giovanni! + Up the Plaia hill then shall I hie me, + To behold once again the head severed-- + In the sun's disc, the holy head severed, + On the platter all gleaming and golden, + Where again the blood runs, flows and babbles. + + + FAVETTA + + Up, Vienda! head all golden, + Keeping long vigil; O golden sweet tresses! + Now they harvest in the grain-fields + Wheat as golden as your tresses. + + + SPLENDORE + + Our mother was saying: "Now heed me! + Three olives I nurtured here with me; + Unto these now a plum have I added. + Ay! three daughters, and, also, a daughter." + + + ORNELLA + + Come, Vienda, golden-plum girl! + Why delay you? Are you writing + To the sun a fair blue letter + That to-night it know no setting? + +[_She laughs and the other sisters join in with her. From the small +door enters their mother, _CANDIA BELLA LEONESSA.] + + + CANDIA [_playfully chiding_] + + Ah! you magpies, sweet cicales! + Once for over-joy of singing + One was burst upon the poplar. + Now the cock's no longer crowing + To awaken tardy sleepers. + Only sing on these cicales,-- + These cicales of high noonday. + These three magpies take my roof-tree-- + Take my door's wood for a tree-branch. + Still the new child does not heed them. + Oh! Aligi, Aligi, dear fellow! + +[_The door opens. The beardless bridegroom appears. He greets them +with a grave voice, fixed eyes, and in an almost religious manner._] + + + ALIGI + + All praise to Jesus and to Mary! + You, too, my mother, who this mortal + Christian flesh to me have given, + Be you blessed, my dear mother! + Blessed be ye, also, sisters, + Blossoms of my blood! + For you, for me, I cross my forehead, + That never there come before us to thwart us + The enemy subtle, in death, in life, + In heat of sun, or flame of fire, + Or poison, or any enchantment, + Or sweat unholy the forehead moist'ning. + Father, and Saviour, and Holy Spirit! + +[_The sisters cross themselves and go out by the small door, carrying +the bridal dresses. _ALIGI_ approaches his mother as if in a dream._] + + + CANDIA + + Flesh of my flesh, thus touch I your forehead + With bread, with this fair wheaten loaf of white flour, + Prepared in this bowl of a hundred years old, + Born long before thee, born long before me, + Kneaded long on the board of a hundred years old + By these hands that have tended and held you. + On the brow, thus, I touch: Be it sunny and clear! + I touch thus the breast: Be it free from all sighing! + I touch this shoulder, and that: Be it strong! + Let them bear up your arms for long labor! + Let her rest there her head gray or golden! + And may Christ to you speak and you heed him! + +[_With the loaf she makes the sign of the cross above her son, who +has fallen on his knees before her._] + + + ALIGI + + I lay down and meseemed of Jesus I dreamed. + He came to me saying: "Be not fearful." + San Giovanni said to me: "Rest in safety. + Without holy candles thou shalt not die." + Said he: "Thou shalt not die the death accursed." + And you, you have cast my lot in life, mother, + Allotted the bride you have chosen for me,-- + Your son, and here, within your own house, mother, + You have brought her to couple with me, + That she slumber with me on my pillow, + That she eat with me out of my platter. + Then I was pasturing flocks on the mountain. + Now back to the mountain I must be turning. + +[_His mother touches his head with the palm of her hand as if to +chase away evil thoughts._] + + + CANDIA + + Rise up, my son! You are strangely talking. + All your words are now changing in color, + As the olive tree changes pressed by the breezes. + +[_He rises, as if in a daze._] + + + ALIGI + + But where is my father? Still nowhere I see him. + + + CANDIA + + Gone to the harvesting, out with the reapers, + The good grain reaping, by grace of our Saviour. + + + ALIGI + + I reaped once, too, by his body shaded, + Ere I was signed with the cross on my forehead, + When my brow scarcely reached up to his haunches. + But on my first day a vein here I severed,-- + Here where the scar stays. Then with leaves he was bruising + The while he stanched the red blood from flowing, + "Son Aligi," said he unto me, "Son Aligi, + Give up the sickle and take up the sheep-crook: + Be you a shepherd and go to the mountain." + This his command was kept in obedience. + + + CANDIA + + Son of mine, what is this pain the heart of you hurting? + What dream like an incubus over you hovers, + That these your words are like a wayfarer, + Sitting down on his road at night's coming, + Who is halting his footsteps for knowing, + Beyond attaining is his heart's desiring, + Past his ears' hearing the Ave Maria. + + + ALIGI + + Now to the mountain must I be returning. + Mother, where is my stout shepherd's sheep-hook + Used to the pasture paths, daily or nightly? + Let me have that, so the kindred arriving, + May see thereupon all the carving I've carved. + +[_His mother takes the shepherd's crook from the corner of the +fireplace._] + + + CANDIA + + Lo! here it is, son of mine, take it: your sisters + Have hung it with garlands for Santo Giovanni, + With pinks red and fragrant festooned it. + + + ALIGI [_pointing out the carving on it._] + + And I have them here on the bloodwood all with me, + As if by the hand I were leading my sisters. + So, along they go with me threading green pathways, + Guarding them, mother,--these three virgin damsels,-- + See! three bright angels here over them hover, + And three starry comets, and three meek doves also. + And a flower for each one I have carved here, + The growing half-moon and the sun I have carved here; + This is the priestly stole; and this is the cup sacramental; + And this is the belfry of San Biagio. + And this is the river, and this my own cabin; + + [_with mystery, as if with second sight_] + + But who, who is this one who stands in my doorway? + + + CANDIA + + Aligi, why is it you set me to weeping! + + + ALIGI + + And see at the end here that in the ground enters, + Here are the sheep, and here also their shepherd, + And here is the mountain where I must be going, + Though you weep, though I weep, my mother! + +[_He leans on the crook with both hands, resting his head upon them, +lost in his thoughts._] + + + CANDIA + + But where then is Hope? What have you made of her, son? + + + ALIGI + + Her face has shone on me seldom; + Carve her, I could not, sooth! mother. + +[_From a distance a savage clamor rises._] + + Mother, who shouts out so loud there? + + + CANDIA + + The harvesters heated and frenzied, + From the craze of their passions defend them, + From sins of their blood San Giovanni restrain them! + + + ALIGI + + Ah! Who then has drawn but that scarf there, + Athwart the wide door of our dwelling, + Leaning on it the forked hoe and distaff, + That naught enter in that is evil? + Ah! Lay there the ploughshare, the wain, and the oxen, + Pile stones there against both the door-posts, + With slaked lime from all of the lime-kilns, + The bowlder with footprints of Samson, + And Maella Hill with its snow-drifts! + + + CANDIA + + What is coming to birth in your heart, son of mine? + Did not Christ say to you, "Be not fearful"? + Are you awake? Heed the waxen cross there, + That was blessed on the Day of Ascension, + The door-hinges, too, with holy water sprinkled, + No evil spirit can enter our doorway, + Your sisters have drawn the scarlet scarf 'cross it,-- + The scarlet scarf you won in the field-match + Long before you ever became a shepherd, + In the match that you ran for the straightest furrow,-- + (You still remember it, son of mine?) Thus have they stretched it + So that the kindred who must pass through there + Offer what gifts they choose when they enter. + Why do you ask, for you well know our custom? + + + ALIGI + + Mother! mother! I have slept years seven hundred-- + Years seven hundred! I come from afar off. + I remember no longer the days of my cradle. + + + CANDIA + + What ails you, son? Like one in a dazement you answer. + Black wine was it your bride poured out for you? + And perhaps you drank it while yet you were fasting, + So that your mind is far off on a journey? + O Mary, blest Virgin! do thou grant me blessing! + +[_The voice of _ORNELLA_ singing the nuptial song._] + + Only of green shall be my arraying, + Only of green for Santo Giovanni. + Oili, oili, oila! + +[_The _Bride_ appears dressed in green and is brought forward +joyously by the sisters._] + + + SPLENDORE + + Lo! the bride comes whom we have apparelled + With all the joy of the spring-time season. + + + FAVETTA + + Of gold and silver the yoke is fashioned, + But all the rest like the quiet verdure. + + + ORNELLA + + You, mother, take her! in your arms take her! + O dear my mother, take and console her! + SPLENDORE + + Shedding tears at the bedside we found her, + Thus lamenting for thinking so sorely + Of the gray head at home left so lonely. + + + ORNELLA + + Of the jar full of pinks in the window + Her dear face not again shall lean over. + You, mother, take her! in your arms take her! + + + CANDIA + + Daughter, daughter, with this loaf in blessing + I have touched my own son. Lo! now I divide it, + And over your fair shining head I now break it. + May our house have increase of abundance! + Be thou unto the dough as good leaven + That may swell it out over the bread-board! + Bring unto me peace and ah! do not bring strife to me! + + + THE THREE SISTERS + + So be it! We kiss the earth, mother! + +[_They kiss the ground by leaning over and touching it with +forefinger and middle finger, and then touching their lips. _ALIGI_ +is kneeling on one side as if in deep prayer._] + + + CANDIA + + O now daughter mine to my house be + As the spindle is unto the distaff; + As unto the skein is the spindle; + And as unto the loom is the shuttle! + + + THE THREE SISTERS + + So be it! We kiss the earth, mother! + + + CANDIA + + O Vienda! new daughter, child blessed! + Lo! midst home and pure food thus I place you. + Lo! The walls of this house--the four corners! + God willing, the sun rises there; sinks there, God willing! + This is the northward, this is the southward. + The ridgepole this, the eaves with nests hanging, + And the chain and the crane with the andirons; + There the mortar the white salt is crushed in, + And there, too, the crock it is kept in. + O new daughter! I call you to witness + How midst home things and pure food I place you + Both for this life and life everlasting. + + + THE THREE SISTERS + + So be it! We kiss the earth, mother! + +[VIENDA _rests her head, weeping, on the shoulder of the mother. +_CANDIA_ embraces her, still holding a half-loaf in each hand. The +cry of the reapers is heard nearer. _ALIGI_ rises like one suddenly +wakened and goes toward the door. The sisters follow him._] + + + FAVETTA + + Now by the great heat are the reapers all maddened, + They are barking and snapping like dogs at each passer. + + + SPLENDORE + + Now the last of the rows they are reaching, + With the red wine they never mix water. + + + ORNELLA + + At the end of each row, they are drinking, + In the shade of the stack the jug lying. + + + FAVETTA + + Lord of heaven! The heat is infernal, + At her tail bites the old gammer serpent. + + + ORNELLA [_chanting_] + + Oh, for mercy! Wheat and wheat, and stubble, stubble, + First in sun burn the sickles, then wounds they trouble. + + + SPLENDORE + + Oh mercy for father! for his arms tired, + And all his veins with labor swollen. + + + ORNELLA + + O Aligi! you saddest of grooms + Keeping yet in your nostrils sleep's fumes! + + + FAVETTA + + O, you know very well the rhyme turned about. + You have placed the good loaf in the jug, + You have poured the red wine in the sack. + + + SPLENDORE + + Lo! now the kindred! Lo! now the women! they are coming. + Up, up! Vienda! and cease your weeping. + Mother! How now! They are coming. Set her free then. + Up! Golden tresses, cease your weeping! + You have wept too long. Your fine eyes are reddened! + +[VIENDA _dries her tears on her apron and taking the apron up by the +two corners receives in it the two pieces of the loaf from the +mother._] + + + CANDIA + + In blood and in milk return it to me! + Goldenhair, come now, sit on the settle. + Oh! Aligi, you too, come sit here! and wake up! + One of you here, one of you there, thus stay ye, + Children, thus, at each side of the door. + Be it wide open for all to see in there + The wide bed so wide that in order to fill it-- + The mattress to fill--I used up the straw-stack. + Ay! the whole of the stack to the bare pole, + With the crock sticking up on the tiptop! + +[CANDIA_ and _ PLENDORE_ place a small bench each side of the door, +where the couple sit composed and silent, looking at each other. +_ORNELLA_ and _FAVETTA_ looking out toward the road at the large +door. The yard is in dazzling sunlight._] + + + FAVETTA + + See! They are coming up the road slowly + In single file, all: Teodula di Cinzio + And Cinerella, Monica, Felavia, + And Catalana delle Tre Bisacce, + Anna di Bova, Maria Cora ... but who is the last one? + + + CANDIA + + Come on then, Splendore, do help me spread out now + The bedspread I wove of silk doubled, + Woven for you, Vienda, dear green bud, + As green as the grass of the meadow, + The sweet grass, early bee, where you hover. + + + ORNELLA + + Who is last? Can you tell us, Vienda? + Oh! I see yellow grain in the hampers, + And it glitters like gold. Who can she be? + Gray at the temple, beneath the white linen, + Gray as the feathery bryony branches. + + + FAVETTA + + Your mommy! dear child, is she your mommy? + +[VIENDA _rises suddenly as if to rush to her mother. In so doing she +lets the bread fall from her apron. She stops, shocked. _ALIGI_ +rises and stands so as to prevent the mother from seeing._] + + + ORNELLA [_greatly concerned, in a frightened voice_] + + O Lord save us! Pick it up again. + Pick it up, kiss it, ere mamma see it. + +[VIENDA, _terrified and overwhelmed by frightful superstition, is +stricken immovable, rigid, staring at the two half-loaves with glassy +eyes._] + + + FAVETTA + + Pick it up, kiss it, sad is the angel. + Make a vow silently, promise greatly, + Call on San Sisto, lest Death should appear. + +[_From within are heard the blows given with the hand on mattress and +pillows and the wind carries to the ear the clamor of the reapers._] + + + ORNELLA + + San Sisto! San Sisto! + Oh! hear ye, and list, oh! + Black death, evil sprite, + By day, by night, + Chase from our walls! + Drive from our souls! + Oh! crumble and tear + The evil eye's snare, + As the sign of the cross I make! + +[_While murmuring the conjuring words she rapidly gathers up the two +half-loaves, pressing each to _VIENDA'S_ lips, kissing them herself, +and then placing each in the apron, making the sign of the cross over +them. She then leads the bridal couple to their benches, as the +first of the women kindred appears at the door with the offerings, +stopping in front of the scarlet scarf. The women each carry on the +head a hamper of wheat adorned with flowing ribbons of various +colors. On each basket rests a loaf of bread, and on top of each +loaf a wild flower. _ORNELLA_ and _FAVETTA_ take each one end of the +scarf while still leaving hoe and distaff in place against the wall, +but so posed as to bar entrance._] + + + FIRST WOMAN, TEODULA DI CINZIO + + Ohe! Who watches the bridges? + + + FAVETTA and ORNELLA [_in unison_] + + Love open-eyed and Love blind. + + + TEODULA + + To cross over there I desire. + + + FAVETTA + + To desire is not to acquire. + + + TEODULA + + I clambered the mountain ridges, + Now down through the valley I'll wind. + + + ORNELLA + + The torrent has taken the bridges, + Too swift runs the river, you'll find. + + + TEODULA + + Set me over in your boat. + + + FAVETTA + + She leaks too fast to keep afloat. + + + TEODULA + + I'll calk her with tow and resin. + + + ORNELLA + + Leaks full seven split and stove her. + + + TEODULA + + Then I'll give you pieces seven. + On your shoulder bear me over. + + + FAVETTA + + Oh, no! Help of mine you must lack. + The wild water fills me with fright. + +[Illustration: THE FEAST OF ESPOUSAL. _Act I._] + + + TEODULA + + Lend me a lift on your back. + I'll give you this silver piece bright. + + + ORNELLA + + Too little! Your eight bits, indeed, + Would not keep my ribbons new. + + + TEODULA + + Tuck up your skirt. Plunge in bare-kneed. + A ducat of gold I'll give to you. + +[_The first woman, _TEODULA_, gives _ORNELLA_ a piece of money. She +receives it in her left hand, while the other women come closer to +the door. The bridal pair remain seated and silent. _CANDIA_ and +_SPLENDORE_ enter from the small door._] + + + ORNELLA and FAVETTA [in unison] + + Pass on then, O you fair Lady! + And all these in your company! + +[ORNELLA _puts the money in her bosom and takes away the distaff, +_FAVETTA_, the hoe. They then leave both leaning against the wall. +_ORNELLA_, with a quick movement, withdraws the scarf, making it wave +like a slender pennant. The women then enter one by one, in line, +still holding their baskets balanced on their heads._] + + + TEODULA + + Peace be with you, Candia della Leonessa! + And peace, too, with you, son of Lazaro di Roio! + And peace to the bride whom Christ has given! + +[_She places her basket at the bride's feet and, taking out of it a +handful of wheat, she scatters it over _VIENDA'S_ head. She then +takes another handful and scatters it over _ALIGI'S.] + + This is the peace that is sent you from Heaven: + That on the same pillow your hair may whiten, + On the same pillow to old age ending. + Nor sin nor vengeance be between you, + Falsehood nor wrath, but love, love only, + Daily, till time for the long, long journey. + +[_The next woman repeats the same ceremony and action, the others +meanwhile remaining in line awaiting their turn, with the hampers on +their heads. The last one, the mother of the bride, remains +motionless near the threshold, and dries her face of tears and +perspiration. The noise of the riotous reapers increases and seems +to come nearer. Besides this noise, from time to time, in pauses, +now and again the ringing of bells is heard._] + + + CINERELLA + + For this is peace and this is plenty. + +[_Suddenly a woman's cry is heard outside, coming from the yard._] + + + THE VOICE OF THE UNKNOWN WOMAN + + Help! Help! For Jesus' sake, our Saviour! + People of God, O people of God, save ye me! + +[_Running, panting from fright and exertion, covered with dust and +briars, like a hart run down by a pack of hunting dogs, a woman +enters. Her face is covered by a mantle. She looks about +bewildered, and withdraws to the corner near the fireplace, opposite +to the bridal pair._] + + + THE UNKNOWN WOMAN + + People of God! O save ye me! + The door there! O shut tight the door there, + Put ye up all the bars! Securely.-- + They are many, and all have their sickles. + They are crazed,--crazed with heat and strong drinking. + They are brutal with lust and with cursing. + Me would they hunt,--they would seize me; + They would hunt me, they would seize me,--me,-- + The creature of Christ, ay, me,-- + The unhappy one, doing no evil! + Passing I was--alone--by the roadside.-- + They saw me.--They cried.--They insulted. + They hurled sods and stones.--They chased me.-- + Ay! like unto hounds that are hungry, + They would seize me and tear me and torture. + They are following me, O most wretched! + They are hunting me down, people of God! + Help ye! Save me! The door, O shut it to! + The door!--They are maddened--will enter! + They will take me from here,--from your hearthstone-- + (The deed even God cannot pardon)!-- + From your hearthstone that blest is and sacred + (And aught else but that deed God pardons)-- + And my soul is baptized,--I am Christian-- + Oh! help! O for San Giovanni's sake, help me! + For Mary's sake, her of the seven dolors! + For the sake of my soul.--For your own soul! + +[_She stays by the hearth, all the women gathering at the side +opposite her. _VIENDA_ close to her mother and godmother. _ALIGI_ +stands outside the circle unmoved, leaning on his crook. Suddenly +_ORNELLA_ rushes to the door, closes it, and bars it. A somewhat +inimical murmur arises from the circle of women._] + + Ah! tell me your name,--how they call you,-- + Your name, that wherever I wander, + Over mountains, in valleys I bless it, + You, who in pity are first here, + Though in years yours are least in the counting! + +[_Overcome she lets herself drop on the hearth, bowed over upon +herself with her head resting on her knees. The women are huddled +together like frightened sheep. _ORNELLA_ steps forward toward the +stranger._] + + + ANNA + + Who is this woman? Holy Virgin! + + + MARIA + + And is this the right way to enter + The dwelling of God-fearing people? + + + MONICA + + And Candia, you! What say you? + + + LA CINERELLA + + Will you let the door stay bolted? + + + ANNA + + Is the last to be born of your daughters, + The first to command in your household? + + + LA CATALANA + + She will bring down upon you bad fortune, + The wandering she-dog, for certain! + + + FELAVIA + + Did you mark how she entered that instant + While yet Cinerella was pouring + On Vienda her handful of wheat flour + Ere Aligi had got his share fully? + +[ORNELLA _goes a step nearer the wretched fugitive. _FAVETTA_ leaves +the circle and joins her._] + + + MONICA + + How now! Are we, then, to remain here, + With our baskets still on our heads loaded? + + + MARIA + + Sure it would be a terrible omen + To put down on the ground here our baskets + Before giving our offerings to them. + + + MARIA DI GIAVE + + My daughter, may Saint Luke defend you! + Saint Mark and Saint Matthew attend you! + Grope for your scapulary round your neck hanging, + Hold it closely and offer your prayer. + +[SPLENDORE, _too, comes forward and joins the sisters. The three +girls stand before the fugitive, who is still prostrate, panting and +trembling with fear._] + + + ORNELLA + + You are over sore-pressed, sister, + And dusty and tired, you tremble. + Weep no more, since now you are safe here. + You are thirsty. Your drink is your tears. + Will you drink of our water and wine? Your face bathe? + +[_She takes a small bowl, draws water from the earthen receptacle, +and pours wine into it._] + + + FAVETTA + + Are you of the valleys or elsewhere? + Do you come from afar? And whither + Do you now bend your steps, O woman! + All desolate thus by the roadside! + + + SPLENDORE + + Some malady ails you, unlucky one? + A vow then of penitence made you? + To the Incoronata were travelling? + May the Virgin answer your prayers! + +[_The fugitive lifts her head slowly and cautiously, with her face +still hidden in the mantle._] + + + ORNELLA [_offering the bowl_] + + Will you drink, now, daughter of Jesus? + +[_From outside a noise is heard as of bare feet shuffling in the yard +and voices murmuring. The stranger, again stricken with fear, does +not drink from the proffered bowl but places it on the hearth and +retires trembling to the further corner of the chimney._] + + + THE UNKNOWN ONE + + They are here, oh, they come! They are seeking + For me! They will seize me and take me. + For mercy's sake, answer not, speak not. + They will go if they think the house empty, + And do nothing evil; but if you + Are heard, if you speak or you answer + They will certainly know I have entered. + They will open the door, force it open. + With the heat and the wine they are frenzied, + Mad dogs! and here is but one man, + And many are they and all have their sickles, + Their scythes.--Oh! for dear pity's sake, + For the sake of these innocent maidens, + For your sake, dear daughter of kindness! You, women holy! + + + THE BAND OF REAPERS [_in chorus outside at the door_] + + The dwelling of Lazaro! Surely + Into this house entered the woman. + --They have closed the door, they have barred it! + --Look out for her there in the stubble. + --Search well in the hay there, Gonzelvo. + --Hah! Hah! In the dwelling of Lazaro, + Right into the maw of the wolf. Hah! Hah! + --O! Candia della Leonessa! + Ho! all of you there! Are you dead? + + [_They knock at the door._] + + Oh! Candia della Leonessa! + Do you offer a shelter to harlots? + + --Do you find that you need such temptation + To still the fain flesh of your husband? + --If the woman be there, I say, open! + Open the door, good folks, give her to us + And on a soft bed we will lay her. + --Bring her out to us! Bring her out to us, + For we only want to know her better. + To the hay-cock, the hay-cock, the hay-cock! + +[_They knock and clamor. _ALIGI_ moves toward the door._] + + + THE UNKNOWN ONE [whispering imploringly] + + Young man, O young man, pray have mercy! + O have mercy! Do not open! + Not for my sake, not mine, but for others, + Since they will not seize now on me only, + Since imbruted are they. You must hear it!-- + In their voices?--How now the fiend holds them? + The bestial mad fiend of high noonday, + The sweltering dog-days' infection. + If they gain entry here, what can you do? + +[_The greatest excitement prevails among the women, but they restrain +themselves._] + + + LA CATALANA + + Ye see now to what shame we all are submitted, + We women of peace here, for this woman, + She who dares not show her face to us! + + + ANNA + + Open, Aligi, open the door there, + But wide enough to let her pass out. + Grip hold of her and toss her out there, + Then close and bar the entrance, giving praises + To Lord Jesus our salvation. + And perdition overtake all wretches! + +[_The shepherd turns toward the woman, hesitating. _ORNELLA_, +stepping forward, stops his way; making a sign of silence, she goes +to the door._] + + + ORNELLA + + Who is there? Who knocks at the door there? + + + VOICES OF THE REAPERS [_outside, all confusedly_] + + --Silence there! Hush up! Hush--sh! Hush--sh! + --There is some one within who is speaking, + --O Candia della Leonessa, + Is it you who are speaking? Open! Open! + --We are the reapers here of Norca, + All the company are we of Cataldo. + + + ORNELLA + + I am not Candia. For Candia is busied now. + Abroad is she since early morning. + + + A VOICE + + And you? Say who are you then? + + + ORNELLA + + I belong to Lazaro, Ornella, + My father is Lazaro di Roio. + But ye, say ye, why ye have come here? + + + A VOICE + + Open, we but want to look inside there. + + + ORNELLA + + Open, that I cannot. For my mother + Locked me in here with her kindred + Going out, for we are marrying. + The betrothal we are having of my brother, + Aligi, the shepherd, who is taking + To wife here, Vienda di Giave. + + + A VOICE + + Did you then not let in a woman, + But a short while ago, a woman frightened? + + + ORNELLA + + A woman? Then in peace go away. + Seek ye elsewhere to find her. + O reapers of Norca! I return to my loom here, + For each cast that is lost by my shuttle + Will be lost and can never be gathered. + God be with you to keep you from evil, + O ye reapers of Norca! May he give you + Strength for your work in the grain fields + Till by evening you reach the end of your labor, + And I, also, poor woman, the ending + Of the breadth of this cloth I am weaving. + +[_Suddenly at the side window two muscular hands seize the iron bars +and a brutal face peers in._] + + + THE REAPER [_shouting in a loud voice_] + + Ho! Captain! the woman is in there! + She's inside! She's inside! The youngster + Was fooling us here, yes, the youngster! + The woman is in there! See, inside there, + In the corner. I see her, I see her! + And there too is the bride and the bridegroom, + And the kindred who brought them their presents. + This is the feast of the grain-pouring spousal. + Ah, ho! Captain! A fine lot of girls there! + + + CHORUS OF REAPERS [_outside_] + + --If the woman's within, we say, open! + For you it is shame to protect her. + --Send her out here! Send her out here! + And we will give her some honey. + --Ho! open there, open, you, and give her to us. + --To the hay-cock with her, to the hay-cock. + +[_They clamor and shout. The women inside are all confused and +agitated. The unknown one keeps in the shadow, shrinking close to +the wall, as if she sought to sink herself in it._] + + + CHORUS OF KINDRED + + --O help us, O holy Virgin! + Is this what the vigil gives us, + The eve of Santo Giovanni? + --What disgrace is this you give us,--what sorrow + This that you give us, Beheaded one!-- + Just to-day of all days. + --Candia, have you lost your reason? + --O Candia, have you lost your senses? + --Ornella, and all your sisters with you? + --She was always a bit of a madcap. + --Give her up to them, give her, give her + To these hungry, ravening wolves! + + + THE REAPER [_still holding the bars_] + + Shepherd Aligi, Oho! shepherd Aligi, + Will you give, at your feast of espousal, + A place to a sheep that is rotten,-- + A sheep that is mangy and lousy? + Take care she infect not your sheepfold, + Or give to your wife her contagion. + O Candia della Leonessa, + Know you whom in your home there you harbor, + In your home there with your new-found daughter? + The daughter of Jorio, the daughter + Of the Sorcerer of Codra! + She-dog roamer o'er mountains and valleys, + A haunter of stables and straw-stacks, + Mila the shameless? Mila di Codra. + The woman of stables and straw-heaps, + Very well known of all companies; + And now it has come to be our turn,-- + The turn of the reapers of Norca. + Send her out here, send her out here! + We must have her, have her, have her! + +[ALIGI, _pale and trembling, advances toward the wretched woman, who +remains persistently in the shadow; and pulling off her mantle, he +uncovers her face._] + + + MILA DI CODRA + + No! No! It is not true! A cruel lie! + A cruel lie! Do not believe him, + Do not believe what such a dog says! + It is but the cursed wine speaking + And out of his mouth bubbling evil. + If God heard it, may He to poison + Turn his black words, and he drown in 't! + No! It is not true. A cruel lie! + +[_The three sisters stop their ears while the reaper renews his +vituperations._] + + + THE REAPER + + You shameless one! you are common, + Well known are you as the ditches, + The field-grass to dry straw turning, + Under your body's sins burning, + Men for your body have gambled + And fought with pitchforks and sickles. + Only wait just a bit for your man, Candia, + And you'll see! He'll come back to you bandaged, + For sure! From a fight with Rainero, + A fight in the grain-field of Mispa,-- + For whom but for Jorio's daughter? + And now you keep her in your home, here, + To give her to your man Lazaro, + To have him find her here all ready. + Aligi! Vienda di Giave! + Give up to her your bridal bedstead! + And all ye women, go and scatter wheat-grains,-- + Upon her head the golden wheat-grains! + We'll come back ourselves here with music, + A little later and ask for the wine-jug. + +[_The reaper jumps down and disappears mid an outbreak of coarse +laughter from the others._] + + + CHORUS OF REAPERS [_outside_] + + Hand us out the wine-jug. That's the custom, + --The wine-jug, the wine-jug, and the woman! + +[ALIGI _stands rigid, with his eyes fixed upon the floor, perplexed, +still holding in his hand the mantle he has taken._] + + + MILA + + O innocence, O innocence, of all these + Young maidens here, you have heard not, + The filthiness, you have heard not, + Oh! Tell me you have heard not, heard not!-- + At least not you, Ornella, oh, no, not + You who have wished to save me! + + + ANNA + + Do not go near her, Ornella! Or would you + Have her ruin you? She, the daughter of the Sorcerer, + Must to every one bring ruin. + + + MILA + + She comes to me because behind me + She sees here weeping the silent angel-- + The guardian over my soul keeping vigil. + +[ALIGI _turns quickly toward _MILA_ at these words, and gazes at her +fixedly._] + + + MARIA CORA + + Oh! Oh! it is sacrilege! Sacrilege! + + + LA CINERELLA + + Ha! She has blasphemed, she has blasphemed, + Against the heavenly angel. + + + FELAVIA + + She will desecrate your hearthstone, + Candia, unless hence you chase her. + + + ANNA + + Out with her, out, in good time, Aligi, + Seize her, and out to the dogs toss her! + + + LA CATALANA + + Well I know you, Mila di Codra, + Well at Farne do they fear you, + And well I know your doings. + You brought death to Giovanna Cametra, + And death to the son of Panfilo. + You turned the head of poor Alfonso, + Gave Tillura the evil sickness, + Caused the death of your father, even, + Who now in damnation damns you! + + + MILA + + May thou, God, protect his spirit + And unto peace his soul gather. + All! You it is who have blasphemed + Against a soul that is departed + And may your blaspheming speeches + Fall on you, whenever death fronts you! + +[CANDIA, _seated on one of the chests, is sad and silent. Now she +rises, passes through the restless circle of women, and advances +toward the persecuted one, slowly, without anger._] + + + CHORUS OF REAPERS + + Ahey! Ahey! How long to wait? + Have you come to an agreement? + --Oh, I say, shepherd, ho! you shepherd, + For yourself, then, do you keep her? + --Candia, what if Lazaro come back now? + --Is she then unwilling? But open, + Open! A hand we will lend her. + And meanwhile give us the wine-jug, + The wine-jug, the wine-jug's the custom! + +[_Another reaper peers in through the grating._] + + + THE REAPER + + Mila di Codra, come out here! + For you that will be much the better. + To try to escape us is useless, + We'll seek now the oak-tree shady, + And throw dice for the one to have you, + That the chance for us all be equal, + Now, we will not quarrel for you, + As Lazaro did with Rainero, + No, we'll have no useless bloodshed. + But, now, if you don't come out here, + Ere the last one turns up his dice-box, + Then this door we all shall break open + And carry things here with a free hand. + You are warned now; best heed this your warning, + Candia della Leonessa! + +[_He jumps down and the clamor is much abated. The ringing of the +village church bells can be heard in the distance._] + + + CANDIA + + Woman, hear me. Lo, I am the mother + Of these three innocent maidens, + Also of this youth, the bridegroom. + We were in peace in our home, here, + In peace and in rest with God's favor, + And blessing with home rites the marriage, + You may see the wheat still in the baskets + And in the blest loaf the fresh flower! + You have entered in here and brought us + Suddenly conflict and sorrow, + Interrupted the kindred's giving, + In our hearts sowing thoughts of dark omen, + That have set my children weeping, + And my bowels yearn and weep with them. + All to chaff our good wheat grain is turning, + And a worse thing still may follow. + It is best for you to go now. + Go thou with God, knowing surely + He will help you, if you trust Him. + Oh! There is cause for all this our sorrow. + We would fain have desired your safety. + Yet now, turn your steps hence, swiftly, + So that none of this house need harm you. + The door, this my son will now open. + +[_The victim listens in humility with bent head, pale and trembling. +_ALIGI_ steps toward the door and listens. His face shows great +sorrow._] + + + MILA + + Christian mother, lo! the earth here + I kiss where your feet have trodden, + And I ask of you forgiveness. + With my heart in my hand lying, + In the palm of my hand, grieving, + For this sorrow of my bringing. + But I did not seek your dwelling: + I was blinded, with fear blinded, + And the Father, He, all-seeing, + Led me here thus to your fireside, + So that I, the persecuted, + Might find mercy by your fireplace, + Mercy making this day sacred. + O have mercy! Christian mother. + O have mercy! and each wheat grain + Resting here within these hampers + God will return a hundred-fold. + + + LA CATALANA [_whispering_] + + Listen not. Whoever listens + Will be lost. The false one is she. + Oh! I know! Her father gave her, + To make her voice so sweet and gentle, + Evil roots of secret magic. + + + ANNA + + Just see now how Aligi's spellbound! + + + MARIA CORA + + Beware! beware! lest she give him + Fatal illness. O Lord, save us! + Have you not heard what all the reapers + Have been saying about Lazaro? + + + MONICA + + Shall we stay here then till vespers + With these baskets on our heads thus? + I shall put mine on the ground soon. + +[CANDIA _gazes intently upon her son, who is fastened upon _MILA_. +Suddenly fear and rage seize her, and she cries aloud._] + + + CANDIA + + Begone, begone, you sorcerer's + Daughter! Go to the dogs! Begone! + In my house remain no longer! + Fling open the door, Aligi! + + + MILA + + Mother of Ornella,--Love's own mother, + All, but not this, God forgiveth. + Trample on me, God forgiveth, + Cut off my hands, yet God forgiveth, + Gouge out my eyes, pluck my tongue out, + Tear me to shreds, yet God forgiveth, + Strangle me, yet God forgiveth, + But if you now (heed me, O heed me! + While the bells are ringing for Santo Giovanni). + If now you seize upon this body,-- + This poor tortured flesh signed in Christ's name, + And toss it out there in that courtyard, + In sight of these your spotless daughters, + Abandoning it to sin of that rabble, + To hatred and to brutal lusting, + Then, O mother of Ornella, + Mother of innocence in so doing, + Doing that thing, God condemns you! + + + LA CATALANA + + She was never christened, never, + Her father was never buried + In consecrated ground; under + A thorn-bush he lies. I swear it. + + + MILA + + Demons are behind you, woman! + Black and foul and false your mouth is! + + + LA CATALANA + + O Candia, hear her, hear her, + Curses heaping! But a little, + And she'll drive you from your dwelling, + And then all the reapers threatened + Will most surely fall upon us. + + + ANNA DI BOVA + + Up, Aligi! Drag her out there! + MARIA CORA + + See you not how your Vienda, + Your young bride, looks like one dying? + + + LA CINERELLA + + What kind of a man are you? Forsaken + Thus of all force in your muscles? + Is the tongue within your mouth, then, + Dried and shrivelled that you speak not? + + + FELAVIA + + You seem lost. How then? Did your senses + Go astray afar off in the mountain?-- + Did you lose your wits down in the valley? + + + MONICA + + Look! He hasn't let go of her mantle, + Since the time he took it from her. + To his fingers it seems rooted. + + + LA CATALANA + + Do you think your son Aligi's + Mind is going? Heaven help us! + + + CANDIA + + Aligi, Aligi! You hear me? + What ails you? Where are you? Gone are your senses? + What is coming to birth in your heart, son? + +[_Taking the mantle out of his hand, she throws it to the woman._] + + I myself will open the door; take her + And push her out of here straightway. + Aligi, to you I speak. You hear me? + Ah! verily you have been sleeping + For seven hundred hundred years, + And all of us are long forgotten. + Kindred! God wills my undoing. + I hoped these last days would bring solace + And that God would now give me repose, + That less bitterness now need I swallow; + But bitterness overpowers me. + My daughters! Take ye my black mantle + From out of the ancient chest there, + And cover my head and my sorrows, + Within my own soul be my wailing! + +[_The son shakes his head, his face showing perplexity and sorrow, +and he speaks as one in a dream._] + + + ALIGI + + What is your will of me, mother? + Unto you said I: "Ah! lay there + Against both of the door-posts the ploughshare, + The wain and the oxen, put sods there and stones there, + Yea, the mountain with all of its snow-drifts." + What did I say then? And how answered you? + "Heed the waxen cross that is holy, + That was blest on the Day of Ascension, + And the hinges with holy water sprinkled." + O, what is your will that I do? It was night still + When she took the road that comes hither. + Profound, then, profound was my slumber, + O mother! although you had not mingled for me, + The wine with the seed of the poppy. + Now that slumber of Christ falls and fails me: + And though well I know whence this proceedeth, + My lips are yet stricken with dumbness. + O woman! what then is your bidding? + That I seize her here now by her tresses,-- + That I drag her out there in the courtyard,-- + That I toss her for these dogs to raven? + Well! So be it! So be it!--I do so. + +[ALIGI _advances toward _MILA_, but she shrinks within the fireplace, +clinging for refuge._] + + + MILA + + Touch me not! Oh! you, you are sinning, + Against the old laws of the hearthstone-- + You are sinning the great sin that's mortal + Against your own blood and the sanction + Of your race, of your own ancient kinfolk. + Lo! over the stone of the fireplace + I pour out the wine that was given + To me by your sister, in blood bound; + So now if you touch me, molest me, + All the dead in your land, in your country, + All those of the long years forgotten, + Generation to past generation, + That lie underground eighty fathoms + Will abhor you with horror eternal. + +[_Taking the bowl of wine, _MILA_ pours it over the inviolate hearth. +The women utter fierce and frantic cries._] + + + THE CHORUS OF KINDRED + + O woe! She bewitches--bewitches the fireplace! + --She poured with the wine there a mixture. + I saw it, I saw her. 'T was stealthy! + --O take her, O take her, Aligi, + And force her away from the hearthstone. + By the hair, O seize her, seize her! + --Aligi, fear you naught, fear nothing, + All her conjuring yet will be nothing. + --Take her away and shiver the wine-bowl! + Shiver it there against the andirons. + --Break the chain loose and engirdle + Her neck with it, three times twist it. + --She has surely bewitched the hearthstone. + -Woe! Woe for the house that totters! + Ah! What lamenting will here be lamented! + + + THE CHORUS OF REAPERS + + Oho there! All quarrelling, are you? + We are waiting here and we 're watching. + We have cast the dice, we know the winner. + Bring her out to us, you shepherd! + Yes, yes! Or the door we'll break down. + +[_They join in blows on the door and in clamoring._] + + + ANNA DI BOVA + + Hold on! Hold on! and have patience a little, + But a little while longer, good menfolk. + Aligi is taking her. Soon you will have her. + +[ALIGI, _like one demented, takes her by the wrists, but she resists +and tries to free herself._] + + + MILA + + No! No! You are sinning, are sinning. + Crush under your feet my forehead + Or stun it with blows of your sheep-hook, + And when I am dead toss me out there. + No, no! God's punishment on you! + From the womb of your wife serpents + To you shall be born and brought forth. + You shall sleep no more, no more, + And rest shall forsake your eyelids, + From your eyes tears of blood shall gush forth. + Ornella, Ornella, defend me, + Aid me, O thou, and have mercy! + Ye sisters in Christ, do thou help me! + +[_She frees herself and goes to the three sisters, who surround her. +Blind with rage and horror, _ALIGI_ lifts his hook to strike her on +the head. Immediately his three sisters begin to cry and moan. This +stops him at once; he lets the hook fall on his knees and with open +arms he stares behind her._] + + + ALIGI + + Mercy of God! O give me forgiveness! + I saw the angel, silent, weeping. + He is weeping with you, O my sisters! + And at me he is gazing and weeping. + Even thus shall I see him forever, + Till the hour for my passing, yea! past it. + I have sinned thus against my own hearth-stone, + My own dead and the land of my fathers; + It will spurn me and scorn me forever, + Deny rest to my weary dead body! + For my sins, sisters, purification, + Seven times, seven times, I do ask it. + Seven days shall my lips touch the ashes, + And as many times more as the tears shed + From your gentle eyes, O my sisters! + Let the angel count them, my sisters, + And brand on my heart all their number! + It is thus that I ask you forgiveness. + Before God thus I ask you, my sisters, + Oh! pray you for brother Aligi, + Who must now return to the mountain. + And she who has suffered such shame here, + I pray you console her, refresh her + With drink, wipe the dust from her garments, + Bathe her feet with water and vinegar. + Comfort her! I wished not to harm her. + Spurred on was I by these voices. + And those who to this wrong have brought me + Shall suffer for many days greatly. + Mila di Codra! sister in Jesus, + O give me peace for my offences. + These flowerets of Santo Giovanni + Off from my sheep-hook now do I take them + And thus at your feet here I place them. + Look at you I cannot. I'm shamefaced. + Behind you I see the sad angel. + But this hand which did you offence here, + I burn in that fire with live embers. + +[_Dragging himself on his knees to the fireplace, he bends over and +finds a burning ember. Taking it with his left hand, he puts the +point of it in the palm of the right._] + + +[Illustration: "O GIVE ME PEACE FOR MY OFFENCES." _Act I._] + + + MILA + + It is forgiven. No, no. Do not wound yourself. + For me, I forgive you, and God shall receive + Your penitent prayer. Rise up from the fire-place! + One only, God only may punish; + And He that hand hath given to you + To guide your flocks to the pasture. + And how then your sheep can you pasture + If your hand is infirm, O Aligi? + For me, in all humbleness, I forgive you, + And your name I shall ever remember, + Morn, eve, and midday shall my blessing + Follow you with your flocks in the mountains. + + + THE CHORUS OF REAPERS [_outside_] + + --Oho, there! Oho, there! How now? + --What is the row? Do you fool us? + --Ho! We'll tear down the door there. + --Yes, yes! Take that timber, the plough-beam. + --Shepherd, we'll not have you fool us. + Now, now, that iron there, take it! + Down with it! Crash down the door there! + --Ho, shepherd Aligi! Now answer! + One, then! Two! Three, and down goes it! + +[_The heavy breathing of the men lifting the timber and iron is +heard._] + + + ALIGI + + For you, for me, and for all my people, + I make the sign of the cross! + +[_Rising and going toward the door, he continues._] + + Reapers of Norca! This door I open. + +[_The men answer in a unanimous clamor. The wind brings the sound of +the bells. _ALIGI_ draws the bars and bolts and silently crosses +himself, then he takes down from the wall the cross of wax and kisses +it._] + + Women, God's servants, cross yourselves praying. + +[_All the women cross themselves and kneeling murmur the litany._] + + + WOMEN [_together_] + + Kyrie eleison! + Lord have mercy upon us! + Christe eleison! + Christ have mercy upon us! + Eyrie eleison! + Lord have mercy upon us! + Christe audi nos! + O Christ hear us! + Christe exaudi nos! + O Christ hearken unto us! + +[_The shepherd then lays the cross on the threshold between the hoe +and the distaff and opens the door. In the yard glittering in the +fierce sun the linen-clad reapers appear._] + + + ALIGI + + Brothers in Christ! Behold the cross + That was blest on the Day of Ascension! + I have placed it there on the threshold, + That you may not sin against this gentle + Lamb of Christ who here finds refuge, + Seeking safety in this fireplace. + +[_The reapers, struck silent and deeply impressed, uncover their +heads._] + + I saw there standing behind her + The angel who guards her, silent, + These eyes that shall see life eternal + Saw her angel that stood there weeping. + Look, brothers in Christ, I swear it! + Turn back to your wheat-fields and reap them, + Harm you not one who has harmed you never! + Nor let the false enemy beguile you + Any longer with his potions. + Reapers of Norca, heaven bless you! + May the sheaves in your hands be doubled! + And may Santo Giovanni's head severed + Be shown unto you at the sunrise, + If, for this, to-night you ascend the hill Plaia. + And wish ye no harm unto me, the shepherd, + To me, Aligi, our Saviour's servant! + +[_The kneeling women continue the litanies, _CANDIA_ invoking, the +others responding._] + + + CANDIA and CHORUS OF THE KINDRED + + Mater purissima, Mother of Purity, + ora pro nobis. pray for us. + Mater castissima, Mother of Chastity, + ora pro nobis. pray for us. + Mater inviolata, Mother Inviolate, + ora pro nobis. pray for us. + +[_The reapers bow themselves, touch the cross with their hands and +then touch their lips and silently withdraw toward the glittering +fields outside, _ALIGI_ leaning against the jamb of the door +following with his eyes their departure, the silence meanwhile broken +only by voices coming from the country pathways outside._] + + + FIRST VOICE + + O! turn back, Lazaro di Roio. + + + ANOTHER VOICE + + Turn back, turn back, Lazaro! + +[_The shepherd, startled and shading his face with his hands, looks +toward the path._] + + + CANDIA and THE WOMEN + + Virgo veneranda, Virgin venerated, + Virgo predicanda, Virgin admonishing, + Virgo potens, Virgin potential, + ora pro nobis. pray for us. + + + ALIGI + + Father, father, what is this? Why are you bandaged? + Why are you bleeding, father? Speak out and tell me, + O ye men of the Lord! Who wounded him? + +[LAZARO _appears at the door with his head bandaged, two men in white +linen supporting him. _CANDIA_ stops praying, rises to her feet and +goes to the entrance._] + + + ALIGI + + Father, halt there! The cross lies there on the door-sill, + You cannot pass through without kneeling down. + If this blood be unjust blood you cannot pass through. + +[_The two men sustain the tottering man and he falls guiltily on his +knees outside the doorway._] + + + CANDIA + + O daughters, my daughters, 't was true then! + O weep, my daughters! let mourning enfold us! + +[_The daughters embrace their mother. The kindred before rising put +their hampers down on the ground. _MILA_ takes up her mantle and +still kneeling wraps herself up in it, hiding her face. Almost +creeping, she approaches the door toward the jamb opposite that where +_ALIGI_ leans. Silently and swiftly she rises and leans against the +wall, and stands there wrapt and motionless, watching her chance to +disappear._] + + + + +ACT II. + +_A mountain cavern is seen partially protected by rough boards, +straw, and twigs and opening wide upon a stony mountain path. From +the wide opening are seen green pastures, snow-clad peaks, and +passing clouds. In the cavern are pallets made of sheep-pelts, +small, rude wooden tables, pouches and skins, filled and empty, a +rude bench for wood turning and carving, with an axe upon it, a +draw-knife, plane, rasps, and other tools, and near them finished +pieces; distaffs, spoons and ladles, mortars and pestles, musical +instruments, and candlesticks. A large block of the trunk of a +walnut tree has at its base the bark, and above, in full relief, the +figure of an angel hewn into shape to the waist, with the two wings +almost finished. Before the image of the Virgin in a depression of +the cavern like a niche, a lamp is burning. A shepherd's bagpipe +hangs close by. The bells of the sheep wandering in the stillness of +the mountain may be heard. The day is closing and it is about the +time of the autumnal equinox._ + +_The treasure-seeker, _MALDE_, and _ANNA ONNA_, the old +herb-gatherer, are lying asleep on the pelts, in their rags. +_COSMA_, the saint, dressed in a long friar's frock, is also asleep, +but in a sitting posture with his arms clasped about his knees and +his chin bowed over on them. _ALIGI_ is seated on a little bench, +intent upon carving with his tools the walnut block. _MILA DI CODRA_ +is seated opposite, gazing at him._ + + + MILA + + Bided mute the patron angel + From the walnut woodblock carven, + Deaf the wood stayed, secret, sacred, + Saint Onofrio vouchsafed nothing. + + Till said one apart, a third one + (O have pity on us, Patron!) + Till said one apart, the fair one, + Lo! my heart all willing, waiting! + Would he quaff a draught of marvel? + Let him take my heart's blood, quaff it! + But of this make no avowal, + But of this make no revealing. + + Suddenly the stump budded branches, + Out of the mouth a branch sprang budding, + Every finger budded branches, + Saint Onofrio all grew green again! + +[_She bends over to gather the chips and shavings around the carved +block._] + + + ALIGI + + O Mila, this too is hewn from the stump of a walnut, + Grow green will it, Mila?--Grow green again? + + + MILA [_still bent over_] + + "Would he quaff a draught of marvel + Let him take my heart's blood." + + + ALIGI + + Grow green will it, Mila?--Grow green again? + + + MILA + + "But of this make no avowal, + But of this make no revealing." + + + ALIGI + + Mila, Mila, let a miracle now absolve us! + And may the mute patron angel grant us protection. + 'T is for him that I work, but not with my chisel, + Ah! for him do I work with my soul in my fingers! + But what are you seeking? What have you lost there? + + + MILA + + I but gather the shavings, that in fire we burn them + With each a grain of pure incense being added. + Make haste, then, Aligi, for the time is nearing. + The moonlight of September fleeting, lessening; + All of the shepherds now are leaving, departing, + Some on to Puglia fare, some Romeward faring;-- + And whither then will my love his footsteps be turning? + Wherever he journeys still may his pathway + Go facing fresh pastures and springs, not winds keen and chilling, + And of me may he think when the night overtakes him! + + + ALIGI + + Romeward faring then shall go Aligi, + Onward to Rome whither all roads are leading, + His flock along with him to lofty Rome, + To beg an indulgence of the Vicar, + Of the Holy Vicar of Christ our Saviour, + For he of all shepherds is the Shepherd. + Not to Puglia land will go Aligi, + But to our blest Lady of Schiavonia, + Sending to her by Alai of Averna + These two candlesticks of cypress wood, only, + And with them merely two humble tapers, + So she forget not a lowly sinner + She, our Lady, who guardeth the sea-shore. + Then when this angel shall be all finished, + Aligi upon a mule's back will load it, + And step by step will he wend on with it. + + + MILA + + O hasten, O hasten! for the time is ripening. + From the girdle downward very nearly + Sunk in the wood yet and lost is the angel; + The feet are held fast in the knots, the hands without fingers, + The eyes with the forehead still level. + You hastened indeed his wings to give him, + Feather by feather, yet forth he flies not! + + + ALIGI + + Gostanzo will aid me in this, the painter, + Gostanzo di Bisegna; the painter is he + Who tells stories on wood in color. + Unto him I have spoken already, + And he will give unto me fine colors. + Perhaps, too, the good monks at the abbey, + For a yearling, a little fine gold leaf + For the wings and the bosom will give me. + + + MILA + + O hasten! Hasten! The time is rip'ning, + Longer than day is the night already, + From the valley the shades rise more quickly, + And unawares they shut down around us. + Soon the eye will guide the hand no longer, + And unsuccored of art will grope the blind chisel! + +[COSMA _stirs in his sleep and moans. From a distance the sacred +songs of pilgrims crossing the mountain are heard._] + + Cosma is dreaming. Who knows what he's dreaming! + Listen, listen, the songs of the pilgrims + Who across the mountain go journeying, + May be to Santa Maria della Potenza, + Aligi,--toward your own country,--toward + Your own home, where your mother is sitting. + And may be they will pass by very near, + And your mother will hear, and Ornella, + Mayhap, and they'll say: "These must be pilgrims + Coming down from the place of the shepherds; + And yet no loving token is sent us!" + +[ALIGi _is bending over his work carving the lower part of the block. +Giving a blow with the axe he leaves the iron in the wood and comes +forward anxiously._] + + + ALIGI + + Ah! Why, why will you touch where the heart is hurting? + Oh! Mila, I will speed on, overtake their cross-bearer + And beg him bear onward my loving thoughts with them. + And yet, Mila, yet--Oh! how shall I say it, Mila? + + + MELA + + You will say: "O good cross-bearer, I prithee, + If ye cross through the valley of San Biagio, + Through the countryside called Acquanova, + Ask ye there for the house of a woman + Who is known as Candia della Leonessa, + And stay ye your steps there, for there most surely + Drink shall ye have to restore you, and may be + Much beside given. Then stay there and say ye: + 'Aligi, your son, sends unto you greeting, + And to his sisters, and also the bride, Vienda, + And he promises he will be coming + To receive from your hands soon your blessing + Ere in peace he depart on long travels. + And he says, too, that he is set free now, + From her--the evil one--during these late days; + And he will be cause of dissension no longer, + And he will be cause of lamenting no longer, + To the mother, the bride, and the sisters.'" + + + ALIGI + + Mila, Mila, what ill wind strikes you + And stirs up your soul in you thus?--A wind sudden, + A wind full of fearing! And on your lips dying, + Your voice is; your blood your cheek is draining. + And wherefore, tell me, should I be sending + This message of falsehood to my mother? + + + MILA + + It is the truth, it is the truth, I tell you, + O brother mine and dear to the sister, + It is true what I say; as true is it + That I have remained by you untainted, + Like a sacred lamp before your faith burning, + With immaculate love before you shining. + It is the truth, it is the truth I tell you. + And I say: Go, go, speed ye on your pathway + And meet ye the cross-bearer so that he carry + Your greetings of peace on to Acquanova. + Now come is the hour of departure + For the daughter of Jorio. And let it be so. + + + ALIGI + + Yea, verily, you have partaken of honey, wild honey + That your mind is thus troubled! + And you would go whither? Oh, whither, Mila? + + + MILA + + Pass on thither where all roads are leading. + + + ALIGI + + Ah! Will you come then with me? O, come with me! + Though full long the journey, you also, Mila, + Will I place on the mule's back and travel, + Cherishing hope, toward Rome the eternal! + + + MILA + + Needs be that I go the opposite way, + With steps hurried, bereft of all hoping. + + + ALIGI [_turning impatiently to the sleeping old herb-woman_] + + Anna Onna! Up, arouse you! Go and find me + Grains of black hellebore, hellebore ebon, + To give back to this woman her senses. + + + MILA + + O be not angry, Aligi, for if you are angry-- + For if you are also against me, how shall I live through + This day till the evening? For behold, if you trample + My heart beneath you, I shall gather it never again! + + + ALIGI + + And I to my home shall be turning never again, + If not with you, O daughter of Jorio, + Mila di Codra, my own by the Sacrament! + + + MILA + + Aligi, can I cross the very threshold + Whereon once the waxen cross was lying, + Where a man once appeared who was bloody? + And unto whom said the son of this man: + "If this blood be unjust blood you cannot pass through"? + High noonday 't was then, the eve of the day + Of Santo Giovanni, and harvest day. + Now in peace on that wall hangs the idle sickle; + Now at rest lies the grain in the granary; + But of that sorrow's sowing the seeds are still growing. + +[COSMA _moves in his sleep and moans._] + + + ALIGI + + Know you, then, one who shall lead you by the hand thither! + + + COSMA [_crying out in his sleep_] + + O do not unbind him! No, no, do not unbind him! + +[_The saint, stretching his arms, lifts up his face from his knees._] + + + MILA + + Cosma, Cosma, what are you dreaming? Tell your dreaming! + +[COSMA _wakens and rises._] + + + ALIGI + + What have you been seeing? Tell your seeing! + + + COSMA + + The face of Fear was turned full upon me. + I have beheld it. But I may not tell it. + Every dream that cometh of God must be chastened + From the fire of it first before giving. + I have beheld it. And I shall speak, surely. + Yet not now, lest I speak the name vainly + Of my Lord and my God, lest I judge now + While my darkness is still overpowering. + + + ALIGI + + O Cosma, thou art holy. Many a year + Have you bathed in the melting snow water, + In the water o'erflowing the mountain, + Quenching your thirst in the clear sight of Heaven, + And this day you have slept in my cavern, + On the sheep-skin that's steamed well in sulphur + So the spirit of evil must shun it. + In your dreaming now you have seen visions, + And the eye of the Lord God is on you. + Help me then with your sure divination! + Now to you I shall speak. You will answer. + + + COSMA + + All unready am I in wisdom, + Nor have I, O youth, understanding + Of so much as the stone in the path of the shepherd. + + + ALIGI + + O Cosma, man of God, heed me and listen! + I implore by the angel in that block enfolded, + Who has no ears to hear and vet heareth! + + + COSMA + + Simple words speak ye, O shepherd, + And repose not your trust in me, + But in the holy truth only. + +[MALDE_ and _ANNA ONNA_ awaken and lean upon their elbows listening._] + + + ALIGI + + Cosma, this, then, is the holy truth: + I turned from the mountain and Puglia valley + With my flock on the day Corpus Domini, + And after I found for my flock good shelter + I went to my home for my three days' resting. + And I find there in my house my mother + Who says unto me: "Son of mine, a companion + For you have I found." Then say I: "Mother, + I ever obey your commandments." She answered: + "'T is well. And lo! here is the woman." + We were espoused. And the kindred gathered, + Escorting the bride to our threshold. + Aloof I stood like a man on the other + Bank of a river, seeing all things as yonder, + Afar, past the water flowing between, + The water that flows everlastingly. + Cosma, this was on a Sunday. And mingled + With my wine was no seed of the poppy. + Why then, notwithstanding, did slumber profound + My heart all forgetting o'erpower? + I believe I slept years seven hundred. + We awoke on the Monday belated. + Then the loaf of the Bridal my mother + Broke over the head of a weeping virgin. + Untouched had she lain by me. The kindred + Came then with their wheat in their hampers. + But mute stayed I wrapped up in great sadness. + As one in the shadow of death I was dwelling. + Behold now! on a sudden, all trembling, + There appeared in our doorway this woman, + Hard pursuing and pressing her, reapers,-- + Hounds! that wanted to seize her and have her. + Then implored she and pleaded for safety. + But not even one of us, Cosma, + Moved, except one, my sister, the littlest, + Who dared rush to the door and bar it. + And lo, now by those dogs was it shaken, + With uttering of curses and threat'ning. + And in hatred against this sad creature + Were their foul mouths unleashed and barking. + To the pack would the women have tossed her, + But she trembling still by the hearthstone, + Was pleading us not to make sacrifice of her. + I, too, myself, seized her with hatred and threat'ning, + Though it seemed to me, then, I was dragging + At my own very heart, the heart of my childhood. + She cried out, and above her head I lifted + My sheep-hook to strike her. + Then wept my sisters! + Then behind her beheld I the angel weeping! + With these eyes, O saint, the angel watching and weeping mutely. + Down on my knees fell I, + Imploring forgiveness. And then to punish + This, my hand, I took up from the fireplace + A burning ember. + "No, do not burn it," + She cried aloud,--this woman cried to me. + --O Cosma! saint holy, with waters from snow-peaks + Purified are you, dawning by dawning; + You, too, woman, who know all herbs growing + For the healing of flesh that is mortal, + Yea, all virtue of roots that are secret; + --Malde, you, too, with that branch of yours forking + May fathom where treasure is hidden, + Entombed at the feet of the dead now dead + For a hundred years, or a thousand--true is it?-- + In the depths of the depths of the heart of the mountain. + Of ye then, I ask, of ye who can hear + The deep things within that come from afar, + Whence came that voice,--O from what far distance + That came and that spake so Aligi should hear it? + (Oh, answer ye me!)--When she said unto me: + "And how then your flocks can you pasture + If your hand is infirm, O Aligi?" + Ah! with these her words did she gather + My soul from my body within me, + Even as you, O woman, gather your simples! + +[MILA _weeps silently._] + + + ANNA ONNA + + There's an herb that is red and called Glaspi, + And another is white called Egusa, + And the one and the other grow up far apart, + But their roots grope together and meet + Underneath the blind earth, and entwine + So closely that sever them never could ever + Santa Lucia. Their leaves are diverse, + But one and the same is their seven years' flower. + But all this is their record in records. + It is Cosma who knoweth the power of the Lord. + + + ALIGI + + Heed me then, Cosma! The slumber of forgetfulness + Was by Commandment sent to my pillow. + By whom? Closed by the hand of Innocence + Was the door of Safety. Came to me the apparition-- + The Angel of Counsel. And out of the word + Of her mouth was created the pledge eternal. + Who then was my wife, before ever + Good wheat, holy loaf, or fair flower? + + + COSMA + + O shepherd Aligi! God's are the just steelyards of Justice. + God's only is the just balance of Justice. + Notwithstanding, O take ye counsel, + From the Angel of Counsel, who gave you your surety. + Yea, take pledge of him for this stranger. + But she left untouched, where is she? + + + ALIGI + + For the sheepstead I left after vespers, + On the eve of Santo Giovanni. + At daybreak + I found myself wending above Capracinta. + On the crest I awaited the sunrise, + And I saw in the disc of its blazing + The bleeding head that was severed. + To my sheepfold + Then came I,--and again I began--guarding my sheep--to suffer + For me seemed that sleep still overwhelmed me, + And my flock on my life's force was browsing. + Oh! why still was my heart heavy laden? + O Cosma! first saw I the shadow, + Then the figure, there, there, at the entrance, + On the morning of San Teobaldo. + On the rock out there was sitting this woman, + And she did not arise for she could not, + So sore were her feet and bleeding. + Said she: "Aligi, + Do you know me?" + I answered: "Thou art Mila." + And no word more we spoke, for no more were we + Twain. Nor on that day were contaminated + Nor after, ever. + I speak but the truth. + + + COSMA + + O shepherd Aligi! You have verily lighted + A holy lamp in your darkness. + Yet it is not enkindled in limits appointed, + Chosen out of old time by your fathers. + You have moved farther off the Term Sacred. + How then if the lamp were spent and were quenched? + For wisdom is in man's heart a well-spring + Profound; but only the pure man may draw of its waters. + + + ALIGI + + Now pray I great God that He place upon us + The seal of the Sacrament eternal! + See ye this that I do? Not hand but soul + Is carving this wood in the similitude + Of the Angel apparition. I began + On the Day of Assumption. Rosary time + Shall it be finished. This my design is: + On to Rome with my flock I shall wander, + And along with me carry my Angel, + On mule-back laden. I will go to the Holy Father, + In the name of San Pietro Celestino, + Who upon Mount Morrone did penance. + I shall go to the Shepherd of shepherds, + With this votive offering, humbly imploring + Indulgence, that the bride, yet untouched, may return + To her mother, set free thus and blameless; + Then as mine I may cherish this stranger, + Who knows well how to weep all unheeded. + So now I ask this of your deep-reaching wisdom, + Cosma; will this grace unto me be conceded? + + + COSMA + + All the ways of mankind appear the direct ways + To man: but the Lord God is weighing heart-secrets. + High the walls, high the walls of man's stronghold, + Huge are its portals of iron; and around and around it + Heavy the shade of tombs where grass grows pallid. + Let not your lamb browse upon that grass grown pallid, + O shepherd Aligi, best question the mother. + + + A VOICE [_calling outside_] + + Cosma, Cosma! If you are within, come forth! + + + COSMA + + Who is calling for me? Did you hear a voice calling? + + + THE VOICE + + Come forth, Cosma, by the blood that is holy! + O Christian brothers, the sign of the cross make ye! + + + COSMA + + Behold me. Who calls me? Who wants me? + +[_At the mouth of the cavern two shepherds appear, wearing sheep-skin +coats, holding a gaunt and sickly youth whose arms are bound to his +body with several turns of a rope._] + + + FIRST SHEPHERD + + O Christian brothers! The sign of the cross make ye! + May the Lord from the enemy keep you! + And to guard well the door say a prayer. + + + SECOND SHEPHERD + + O Cosma, this youth is possessed of a demon. + Now for three days the devil has held him. + Behold, O behold how he tortures him now. + He froths at the mouth, turning livid and shrieking. + With strong ropes we needed to tie and bind him + To bring him to you. You who freed before now + Bartolomeo dei Cionco ala Petrara, do you, + O wise man of mercy, do you this one also + Liberate! Force now the demon to leave him! + O chase him away from him, cure him and heal him! + + + COSMA + + What is his name and the name of his father? + + + FIRST SHEPHERD + + Salvestro, di Mattia di Simeone. + + + COSMA + + Salvestro, how then, you will to be healed? + Be of good heart, my son, O be trustful! + Lo! I say unto you, fear not! + And ye + Wherefore have ye bound him? Let him be free! + + + SECOND SHEPHERD + + Come with us then to the chapel, Cosma. + There we can let him be free. He would flee away, here. + He is frantic always, for escape ever ready. + And sudden to take it. He's frothing. Come on then! + + + COSMA + + That will I, God helping. Be of good heart, my son! + +[_The two shepherds carry the youth off. _MALDE_ and _ANNA ONNA_ +follow them for awhile, then halt, gazing after them, _MALDE_ with a +forked olive branch with a small ball of wax stuck on at the larger +end, the old woman leaning on her crutch and with her bag of simples +hanging in front. Finally they also disappear from sight. The saint +from the doorway turns back toward his host._] + + + COSMA + + I go in God's peace, shepherd Aligi. + For the comfort I found in your cavern, + May you be blessed! Lo! now they called unto me + And therefore I answered. Before you may enter + Upon your new way, the old laws well consider. + Who will change the old ways shall be winnowed. + See ye guard well your father's commandment. + See ye heed well your mother's instruction. + Hold them ever steadfast in your bosom. + And God guide your feet, that you may not be taken + In lariats nor into live embers stumble! + + + ALIGI + + Cosma, quite well have you heard me? That I remain sinless. + Never I tainted myself but kept good faith, + Quite well have you heard of the sign God Almighty + Has revealed me and sent here unto me? + I await what will come, my flesh mortifying. + + + COSMA + + I say unto you: Best question your parents + Ere you lead to your roof-tree this stranger. + + + A VOICE [_calling from outside_] + + Cosma, don't delay longer! Surely 't will kill him. + + + COSMA [_turning to_ MILA] + + Peace unto you, woman! If good be within you + Let it pour forth from you like tears falling + Without being heard. I may soon return. + + + ALIGI + + I come. I follow. Not all have I told you. + + + MILA + + Aligi, 't is true: not all are you telling! + Go to the roadside. The cross-bearer watch for + And implore him to carry the message. + +[_The saint goes off over the pasture land. The singing of the +pilgrims is heard from time to time._] + + + MILA + + Aligi, Aligi: Not all did we tell! + Yet better it were that my mouth were choked up, + Better that stones and that ashes + Held me speechless. Hear then this only + From me, Aligi. I have done you no evil; + And none shall I do you. Healed and restored now + Are my feet. And I know well the pathways. + Now arrived is the hour of departure + For the daughter of Jorio. Now then so be it! + + + ALIGI + + I know not, you know not what hour may be coming. + Replenish the oil in our lamp of the Virgin, + Take the oil from the skin. Some yet is within + And wait for me here. I seek the cross-bearer, + Right well what to say unto him know I. + + + MILA + + Aligi, brother of mine! Give me your hand, now! + + + ALIGI + + Mila, the road is but there, not far away. + + + MILA + + Give me that hand of yours, so I may kiss it. + 'T is the drop that I yield to my thirst. + + + ALIGI [_coming closer_] + + With the ember I wanted to burn it, Mila, + This sinful hand that sought to offend you. + + + MILA + + All that I forget. I am only the woman + You found on the rock there seated, + By who knows what roads coming hither! + + + ALIGI [_coming again close_] + + Upon your face your tears are not drying, + Dear woman. A tear is now staying + On the eyelashes, while you speak trembles, and falls not. + + + MILA + + Over us hovers deep stillness. Aligi, just listen! + Hushed is the singing. With the grasses and snow-peaks + We are alone, brother mine, we are alone. + + + ALIGI + + Mila, now you are unto me as you first were + Out there on the rock, when you were all smiling, + With your eyes all shining, your feet all bleeding. + + + MILA + + And you,--you,--are you not now the one who was kneeling,-- + Who the flowrets of Santo Giovanni + Put down on the ground? Ah! by one were they gathered + Who bears them yet, wears them yet--in her scapulary. + + + ALIGI + + Mila, there is in your voice a vibration + That while it consoles me, it saddens. + As even October, when, all my flocks with me, + I border the bordering stretches of seashore. + + + MILA + + To border them with you, the shore and the mountain + Ah! I would that that fate were my fate evermore. + + + ALIGI + + O my love, be preparing for such wayfaring! + Though the road there be long, for that is Love strong. + + + MILA + + Aligi, I'd pass there through fires ever flaming, + Onward still wending by roads never ending. + + + ALIGI + + To cull on the hill-top the blue gentian lonely, + On the seashore only the star-fish flower. + + + MILA + + There on my knees would I drag myself on, + Placing them down on the tracks you were marking. + + + ALIGI + + Think, too, of the places to rest when the night should o'ertake us, + And the mint and the thyme that would be your pillows. + + + MILA + + I cannot think. No. Yet give leave this one night more + That I live with you, here, where you are here breathing, + That I hear you asleep and be with you, + And over you keep, like your dogs, faithful vigil! + + + ALIGI + + O, you know, O, you know what must await us. + How with you must I ever divide the bread, salt, and water. + And so shall I share with you also the pallet, + Unto death and eternity. Give me your hands! + +[_They grasp each other's hands, gazing into each other's eyes._] + + + MILA + + Ah! we tremble, we tremble. You are frigid, + Aligi. You are blanching. O whither + Is flowing the blood your face loses? + +[_She frees herself and touches his face with both hands._] + +[Illustration: MILA DI CODRA AND ALIGI. _Act II._] + + + ALIGI + + O Mila, Mila, I hear a great thundering, + All the mountain is shaking and sinking, + Where are you? Where are you? All is veiled. + +[_He stretches out his hand toward her as one tottering. They kiss +each other. They fall down upon their knees, facing each other._] + + + MILA + + Have mercy upon us, blessed Virgin! + + + ALIGI + + Have mercy upon us, O Christ Jesus! + +[_A deep silence follows._] + + + A VOICE [_outside_] + + Shepherd, ho! You are wanted, and in a hurry. + A black sheep has broken his shank. + +[ALIGI _rises totteringly and goes toward the entrance._] + + You are wanted at once and must hurry, + And there is a woman I know not. + On her head is a basket. For you she is asking. + +[ALIGI _turns his head and looks toward _MILA_ with an all-embracing +glance. She is still on her knees._] + + + ALIGI [_in a whisper_] + + Mila, replenish the oil in our lamp of the Virgin, + So it go not out. See, it barely is burning. + Take the oil from the skin. Some yet is within. + And await me. I only must go to the sheep-fold. + Fear nothing, for God is forgiving. + Because we trembled will Mary forgive us. + Replenish the oil and pray her for mercy. + +[_He goes out into the fields._] + + + MILA + + O Holy Virgin! Grant me this mercy: + That I may stay here with my face to earth bowed, + Cold here, that I may be found dead here, + That I may be removed hence for burial. + No trespass there was in thine eyesight. + No trespass there was. For Thou unto us wert indulgent. + The lips did no trespass. (To bear witness + There wert Thou!) The lips did no trespass. + So under Thine eyes I may die here, die here! + For strength have I none to leave here, O Mother! + Yet remain with him here Mila cannot! + Mother clement! I was never sinful, + But a well-spring tramped on and trodden. + Shamed have I been in the eyes of Heaven, + But who took away from my memory + This shame of mine if not Thou, Mary? + Born anew then was I when love was born in me. + Thou it was willed it, O faithful Virgin! + All the veins of this new blood spring from afar, + Spring from far off, from the far, far away, + From the depths of the earth where she rests, + She who nourished me once in days long ago, long ago. + Let it also be she who bears now for me witness + Of innocency! Madonna, Thou also bore witness! + The lips did no trespass here now (Thou wert witness), + No, there was none in the lips, no, in the lips there was none. + And if I trembled, O let me bear that trespass, + Bear ever that tremor with me beyond! + Here I close up within me my eyes with my fingers. + +[_With the index and middle finger of each hand she presses her eyes, +bowing her head to the earth._] + + Death do I feel. Now do I feel it draw closer. + The tremor increaseth. Yet not the heart ceaseth. + +[_Rising impetuously._] + + Ah, wretch that I am, that which was told me + To do, I did not, though thrice did he say it: + "Replenish the oil." And lo! now 't is dying! + +[_She goes toward the oil-skin hanging from a beam, with her eye +still watching the dying flame, endeavoring to keep it alive with the +murmured prayer:_] + + Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. + (Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord be with thee.) + +[_Opening the skin, it flattens in her hands. She searches for the +flask to draw off the oil, but is able to get but one or two drops._] + + 'T is empty! 'T is empty! But three drops, Virgin, + For my unction extreme prithee be given me, + But two for my hands, for my lips the other, + And all for my soul, all the three! + For how can I live when back he returns here, + What can I say, Mother, what can I say? + Surely then he will see, or ere he see me, + How the lamp has gone out. If my loving + Sufficed not to keep the flame burning, + How pale unto him will this love of mine, Mother, appear! + +[_Again she tries the skin, looking again for other receptacles, +upsetting everything and still murmuring prayers._] + + Cause it to burn, O Mother intrepid! + But a little while longer, as much longer only + As an Ave Maria, a Salve + Regina, O Mother of Mercy, of Pity! + +[_In the frenzy of her search she goes to the entrance and hears a +step and catches sight of a shadow. She calls aloud._] + + O woman, good woman, Christian sister, + Come you hither! and may the Lord bless you! + Come you hither! For mayhap the Lord sends you. + What bear you in your basket? If a little + Oil, oh, then of your charity, give me a little! + Pray enter and take of all these your free choice, + These ladles, spindles, mortars, distaffs, any! + For need that there is here for Our Lady, + To replenish the oil in her lamp there hanging + And not to quench it; if through me it be quenched, + I shall lose sight of the way to Heaven. + Christian woman, grasp you my meaning? + Will you to me do this loving kindness? + +[_The woman appears at the entrance, her head and face covered with a +black mantle. She takes down the basket from her head without a word +and placing it on the ground removes the cloth, takes out the phial +of oil and offers it to _MILA.] + + + MILA + + Ah! be thou blessed, be thou blessed! Lord God + Reward thee on earth, and in Heaven also! + You have some! You have some! In mourning are you; + But the Madonna will grant it to you + To see again the face of your lost one,-- + All for this deed of your charity done me. + +[_She takes the phial and turns anxiously to go to the dying lamp._] + + Ah! perdition upon me! 'T is quenched. + +[_The phial falls from her hand and breaks. For a few seconds she +remains motionless, stunned with the terrible omen. The woman +leaning down to the spilled oil touches it with her fingers and +crosses herself. _MILA_ regards the woman with utter sadness and the +resignation of despair makes her voice hollow and slow._] + + + MILA + + Pardon me, pardon, Christian pilgrim, + This your charity turned to nothing. + The oil wasted, broken in pieces the phial, + Misfortune upon me befallen. + Tell me what choose you? All these things here + Were fashioned out thus by the shepherd. + A new distaff and with it a spindle + Wish you? Or wish you a mortar and pestle? + Tell me, I pray. For nothing know I any more. + I am one of the lost in the earth beneath. + + + THE CLOAKED ONE + + Daughter of Jorio! I have come unto you, + To you, bringing here, thus, this basket, + So I a boon may beseech of you. + + + MILA + + Ah! heavenly voice that I ever + In the deeps of my soul have been hearing! + + + THE CLOAKED ONE + + To you come I from Acquanova. + + + MILA + + Ornella, Ornella art thou! + +[ORNELLA _uncovers her face._] + + + ORNELLA + + The sister am I of Aligi; + The daughter am I of Lazaro. + + + MILA + + I kiss your two feet with humility, + That have carried you here to me + So that again your dear face I behold + This hour, this last hour of my mortal suffering. + To give me pity you were the first one, + You are now, too, the last one, Ornella! + + + ORNELLA + + If I was the first, penitence + Great I have suffered. I am telling + The truth to you, Mila di Codra. + And still is my suffering bitter. + + + MILA + + Oh! your voice in its sweetness is quivering. + In the wound doth the knife that hurts quiver. + And much more, ah! more doth it quiver + And you do not yet know that, Ornella! + + + ORNELLA + + If only you knew this my sorrow! + If only you knew how much sadness + The small kindness I did for you caused me! + From my home that is left desolated + I come, where we weep and are perishing. + + + MILA + + Why thus are you vested in mourning? + Who is dead then? You do not answer. + Mayhap--mayhap--the newly come sister? + + + ORNELLA + + Ah! She is the one you wish perished! + + + MILA + + No, no. God is my witness. I feared it, + And the fear of it seized me within me. + Tell me, tell me. Who is it? Answer, + For God's sake and for your own soul's sake! + + + ORNELLA + + Not one of us yet has been taken; + But all of us there are still mourning + The dear one who leaves us abandoned + And gives himself up to his ruin. + If you could behold the forsaken one, + If our mother you could but behold, + You would quiver indeed. Unto us + Come is the Summer of blackness, come is + The Autumn bitter, oppressive, + And never a circling twelvemonth's season + Could be unto us so saddening. Surely, + When I shut to the door to help you and save you + And gave myself up to my ruin, + You did not then seem to me so unfeeling,-- + You who implored for compassion's sake,-- + You who sought my name of me + That you might in your blessings whisper it! + But since then my name is shadowed in shame. + Every night, every day in our household, + I am railed upon, shunned, cast away. + They single me out. They, pointing, cry out: + "Lo! that is the one, behold her, + Who put up the bars of the entrance + So that evil within might stay safely + And hide at its ease by the hearthstone." + I cannot stay longer. Thus say I: "Far rather + Hew at me, all, with your knife-blades + And carve me to shreds and cut me!" This now + Is your blessing, Mila di Codra! + + + MILA + + It is just, it is just that you + Strike me thus! Just is it that you + Make my lips drink thus deep of this bitterness! + With such sorrow be accompanied + All these my sins to the world that's beyond! + Mayhap, mayhap, then, the stones and the heather + And the stubble, the woodblock dumb, unfeeling, + Shall speak for me,--the angel here silent, + That your brother is calling to life in the block there, + And the Virgin bereft of her lamplight. + These shall all speak for me: but I--I--shall speak not! + + + ORNELLA + + Dear woman, indeed how around you + Your soul is your body's vestment, + And how I may touch it, outstretching + Towards you thus my hand with all faith. + How then did you do so much evil + To harm us so much--us--God's people? + If you could behold our Vienda, + Quiver, indeed, would you. For shortly the skin will + Over the bones part in twain for its dryness, + And the lips of her mouth are grown whiter + Than within her white mouth her white teeth are; + So that when the first rain came falling, + Saturday, Mamma, seeing her, said of her, + Weeping: "Lo, now! Lo, now! she will be leaving, + She will break with the moisture and vanish." + Yet my father laments not; his bitterness + He chews upon hard without weeping. + Envenomed within him the iron, + The wound in his flesh is like poison + (San Cresidio and San Rocca guard us!) + The swelling leaves only the mouth free + To bark at us daily and nightly. + In his frenzy his curses were fearful,-- + The roof of the house with them shaking, + And with them our hearts quaking. Dear woman, + Your teeth are chattering. Have you the fever, + That you shiver thus and you tremble? + + + MILA + + Always at twilight and sunset, + A tremor of cold overtakes me + Not strong am I in the nights on the mountain, + We light fires at this time in the valley, + But speak on and heed not my suffering. + + + ORNELLA + + Yesterday, by chance, I discovered + He had it in mind to climb up here,-- + This mountain to climb, to the sheepstead. + I failed through the evening to see him, + And my blood turned cold within me. + So then I made ready this basket, + And in this my sisters aided me,-- + We are three who are born of one mother,-- + All three of us born marked with sorrow; + And this morning I left Acquanova, + I crossed by the ferry the river, + And the path to the mountain ascended. + Ah! you dear, dear creature of Jesus! + With what illness now are you taken? + How can I bear all this sorrow? + What can I be doing for you? + You far more violently tremble + Than when you sought our fireplace + And the pack of the reapers were hunting you. + + + MILA + + And since--Oh! since have you seen him? Know you + If yet he has come to the sheepstead? + Be certain, Ornella, be certain! + + + ORNELLA + + Not again have I seen him. Nor yet + Do I know if he came up the mountain,-- + Since much did he have for the doing + At Gionco. Perhaps he came not. + So do not be frightened! But hear me, + And heed me. For your soul's sake, + To save it, now, Mila di Codra, + Repent ye and take ye, I prithee, + Away from us this evil doing! + Restore us Aligi, and may God go with you, + And may He have mercy upon you! + + + MILA + + Dear sister of Aligi! Content am I,-- + Yea, always to hear and to heed you. + Just is it that you strike me,-- + Me, the sinful woman, me, the sorcerer's + Daughter, the witch who is shameless,-- + Who for charity supplicated + The journeying pilgrim of Jesus + But a little oil to give her + To feed her sacred lamp-flame! + Perhaps behind me the Angel is weeping + Again as before; and the stones perhaps + Will speak for me, but I--shall speak not-- + Shall speak not. But this say I only + In the name of sister, and if I say not + In truth, may my mother arise + From her grave, my hair grasping, + And cast me upon the black earth, bearing + Witness against her own daughter. + Only say I: I am sinless before your brother, + Before the pallet of your brother clean am I! + + + ORNELLA + + Omnipotent God! A miracle dost Thou! + + + MILA + + But this is the loving of Mila. + This is but my love, Ornella. + And more than this I shall speak not. + Contented am I to obey you. + All paths knows the daughter of Jorio, + Already her soul ere your coming + Had started,--ere now, O Innocent One! + Do not distrust me, O sister + Of Aligi, for no cause is there. + + + ORNELLA + + Firm as the rock my faith is in you. + Brow unto brow have I seen in you + Truth. And the rest lies in darkness, + That I, poor one, may not fathom. + But I kiss your feet here humbly, + The feet that know well the pathways. + And my silent love and pity + Will companion you on your journey. + I will pray that the steps of your pathway + Be lessened, the pain of them softened. + And the pain that I feel and I suffer + On your head I shall lay it no longer. + No more shall I judge your misfortunes, + No more shall I judge of your loving, + Since before my dear brother sinless + Are you, in my heart I shall call you + My sister, my sister in exile. At dawning + My dreams shall meet you and often shall greet you. + + + MILA + + Ah, in my grave were I resting, + With the black earth close to me nestling, + And in my ears, in that grave lonely, + These words were the last words sounding,-- + Their promise of peace my life rounding! + + + ORNELIA + + For your life I have spoken, I witness. + And food and drink to restore you,-- + That at least for the first of your journey, + You may not lack something of comfort,-- + For you I prepared in this basket; + Bread placing in it and wine (the oil is now + Gone!) but I did not place there a flower. + Forgive me for that, since then I knew not-- + + + MILA + + A blue flower, a flower of the blue aconite-- + You did not place that in your basket for me! + And you did not place there the white sheet severed + From the cloth in your loom at home woven + That I saw 'twixt the doorway and fireplace! + + + ORNELLA + + Mila! for that hour wait on the Saviour. + But what still keeps my brother? Vainly + I sought him at the sheepfold. Oh! where is he? + + + MILA + + He will be back again ere nightfall surely. + Needs be that I hasten! O, needs be! + + + ORNELLA + + Do you mean not to see him--speak again to him? + Where then will you go for this night? Remain here. + I, too, will remain. Thus doing shall we + Be together, and strong against sorrow, + We three-- Till you go at daybreak + On your path, and we go upon our path. + + + MILA + + But already too long are the nights. Needs be + That I hasten,--hasten! You know not. + I will tell you. Also from him I received + The parting that's not to be given + A second time. Addio! Go, seek him, + And meet him, now, in the sheepfold, surely. + Detain him there longer, and tell him + All the grief that they suffer down there, + And let him not follow me! On my pathway + Unknown, I shall soon be. Rest you blessed! + Forever rest blessed! O, be you as sweet + Unto his as you were to my sorrow! + Addio! Ornella, Ornella, Ornella! + +[_While speaking thus, she retires toward the darkness of the cavern +and _ORNELLA_, softened to tears, passes out. The old herb-woman +then appears at the opening of the cavern. The singing of the +pilgrims may still be heard, but from a greater distance. _ANNA +ONNA_ enters, leaning on her crutch with her bag hanging by her +side._] + + + ANNA [_breathless_] + + 'Has freed him, freed him, woman of the valley, + 'Has freed him! Ay! from inside him + Chased away all the demons did he-- + Cosma--that possessed him. A saint, surely. + He gave out a great cry like a bull's roar,-- + Did the youth, and at one blow fell down + As if he had burst his chest open. + You didn't--don't say you couldn't--hear him? + And now on the grass he is sleeping. + Deeply, deeply is he sleeping; and the shepherds + Stand around and keep watch o'er him. + But where are you? I do not see you. + + + MILA + + Anna Onna, put me to sleep! + O Granny dear, I'll give you this basket + That is brimful of eating and drinking. + + + ANNA + + Who was she that went away hurrying? + Had she broken your heart that you cried so? + --That after her, so, you were calling? + + + MILA + + Granny, oh, listen! This basket I'll give you, + That one on the ground, to take with you,-- + If you'll put me to sleep,--make me go,-- + To sleep, with the little black seeds--you know-- + Of the hyoscyamus. Go off then! be eating and drinking! + + + ANNA + + I have none. I have none left in my bag here! + + + MILA + + The skin I will give you, too, the sheepskin + You were sleeping on here to-day. + If you give me some of those red seed-pods, + The red pods you know--twigs of the nasso. + Go off, then, go off, and fill up and guzzle! + + + ANNA + + I have none, I have none in my bag here. + Go slower a bit, woman of the valley, + Take time, go slowly, go slowly, + Think it over a day, or a month, or a year. + + + MILA + + O Granny dear, more will I give you! + A kerchief with pictures in color, + And of woollen cloth, three arms' lengths, + If you give me some of the herb-roots-- + The same that you sell to the shepherds + That kill off the wolves so swiftly-- + The root of the wolf-grass, the wolf-bane-- + Go off then. Go off and mend up your bones! + + + ANNA + + I have none, I have none left in my bag here. + Go slower a bit, woman of the valley, + Take time, go slowly, go slowly, + With time there always comes wisdom. + Think it over a day, or a month, or a year, + With the herbs of the good Mother Mountain + We can heal all our ailments and sorrows. + + + MILA + + You will not? Very well then, I snatch thus from you + That black bag of yours. Therein I'll be finding + What will serve for me well, well indeed! + +[_She tries to tear the bag away from the tottering old woman._] + + + ANNA + + No, no. You are robbing me, your poor old granny, + You force me! The shepherd--he'd tear me-- + Gouge out my eyes from their sockets. + +[_A step is heard and a man's form appears in the shadows._] + + + MILA + + Ah! it is you, it is you, Aligi! + Behold what this woman is doing. + +[MILA _lets fall the bag which she had taken from the old woman and +sees the man looming tall in the dim light of the mountain, but +recognizing him she takes refuge in the depths of the cavern. +_LAZARO DI ROIO_ then enters, silent, with a rope around his arm like +an ox drover about to tie up his beast. The sound of _ANNA ONNA'S_ +crutches striking against the stones is heard as she departs in +safety._] + + + LAZARO + + Woman, O, you need not be frightened. + Lazaro di Roio has come here, + But he does not carry his sickle: + It is scarcely a case of an eye for an eye, + And he does not wish to enforce it. + There was more than an ounce of blood taken + From him on the wheat-field of Mispa, + And you know cause and end of that bloodshed. + Ounce for ounce, then, he will not take from you, + Nor wish it, for all the wound's smarting-- + The cicatrice, here in the forehead. + Raven feather, olive-twig crook, + Rancid oil, soot from the chimney shook, + Morn unto eve, eve unto morn, + The cursed wound must healing scorn! + +[_He gives a short, malignant laugh._] + + And where I was lying, I heard ever + The weeping and wailing, the women, + Oh, not for me, but this shepherd, + Spell-bound, bewitched by the witch shrew + Way off in the far-away mountain. + Surely, woman, poor was your picking. + But my grit and my blood are back again, + And many words I shall not be talking, + My tongue is dry now for doing it, + And all for this same sad occasion. + Now then, say I, you shall come on with me, + And no talk about it, daughter of Jorio! + Waiting below is the donkey and saddle, + And also here a good rope hempen, + And others to spare, God be praised! if need be! + +[MILA _remains motionless, backed up against the rock, without +replying._] + + Did you hear me, Mila di Codra? + Or are you deaf and dumb now? + This I am saying in quiet: + I know all about how it happened, + That time with the reapers of Norca. + If you are thinking to thwart me + With the same old tricks, undeceive you! + There's no fireplace here, nor any + Relations, nor San Giovanni + Ringing the bells of salvation. + I take three steps and I seize you, + With two good stout fellows to help me. + So now, then, and I say it in quiet, + You'd better agree to what needs be. + You may just as well do as I want you, + For if you don't do so, you'll have to! + + + MILA + + What do you want from me? Where already + Death was, you came. Death is here, even now. + He stepped one side to let you enter. + Withdrawing awhile, still here he is waiting. + Oh, pick up that bag there; inside it + Are deadly roots enough to kill ten wolves. + If you bind it on to my jaws here + I would make of it all a good mouthful; + I would eat therein, you would see me, + As the good hungry mare that crunches + Her oats. So then, when I should be + Cold, you could take me up there and toss me + And pack me upon your donkey, + And tie with your rope like a bundle, + And shout out: "Behold the witch, shameless, + The sorceress!" Let them burn up my body, + Let the women come round and behold me, + And rejoice in deliverance. Mayhap + One would thrust in her hand, in the fire, + Without being burned in the flame, + And draw from the core of the heat my heart. + +[LAZARO_, at her first bidding, takes up the bag and examines the +simples. He then throws it behind him, with suspicion and distrust._] + + + LAZARO + + Ah, ah! You want to spread some snare. + What crouch are you watching to spring on me! + In your voice I can hear all your slyness, + But I shall trap you in my lariat. + +[_At this he makes his rope into a lariat._] + + Not dead, neither cold do I want you. + Lazaro di Roio,--by all the gods!-- + Mila di Codra, will harvest you,-- + Will go with you this very October, + And for this all things are ready. + He will press the grapes with your body, + Lazaro will sink in the must with you. + +[_With a sinister laugh he advances toward _MILA_, who is on the +alert to elude him, the man following closely, she darting here and +there, unable to escape him._] + + + MILA + + Do not touch me! Be ashamed of yourself! + For your own son is standing behind you. + +[ALIGI _appears at the end of the cave. Seeing his father, he turns +pale. _LAZARO_, halting in his chase, turns toward him. Father and +son regard each other intently and ominously._] + + + LAZARO + + Hola there, Aligi! What is it? + + + ALIGI + + Father, how did you come hither? + + + LAZARO + + Has your blood been all sucked up that it's made you + So pale? As white you stand there in the light + As the whey when they squeeze out the cheeses. + Shepherd, say, why are you frightened? + + + ALIGI + + Father, what is it you wish to do here? + + + LAZARO + + What I wish to do here? You are asking + A question of me, a right you have not. + I will tell you, however. This will I: + The yearling ewe catch in my lariat, + And lead her wherever it please me. + That done, I shall sentence the shepherd. + + + ALIGI + + Father, this thing you shall surely not do. + + + LAZARO + + How dare you then lift so boldly + Your white face up into mine? Be careful + Or I shall make it blush of a sudden. + Go! turn back to your sheepfold and stay there, + With your flock inside the enclosure, + Until I come there to seek you. + On your life, I say, obey me! + + ALIGI + + Father, I pray the Saviour to keep me + From doing you aught but obedience. + And you are able to judge and to sentence + This son of your own; but this one-- + This woman, see that you leave her alone! + Leave her to weep here alone. + Do no offence unto her. It is sinful. + + + LAZARO + + Ah! The Lord has made you crazy! + Of what saint were you just speaking? + See you not (may your eyes be blind forever!) + See you not how under her eyelashes,-- + Around her neck lie hidden + The seven sins, the mortal sins? + Surely, if there should see her only + Your buck now, 't would butt her, and you here + Are frightened lest I should offend her! + I tell you the stones of the highroad + By man and by beast are less trodden + Than she is by sin and shame trampled. + + + ALIGI + + If it were not a sin unto God in me, + If by all men it were not deemed evil, + Father, I should say unto you that in this thing,-- + In this thing you lie in your gullet! + +[_He takes a few steps and places himself between his father and the +woman, covering her with his body._] + + + LAZARO + + What's that you say? Your tongue in you wither! + Down on your knees there, to beg me + Forgiveness, your face on the ground there! + And never dare you to lift up your body + Before me! Thus, on your marrow-bones, + Off with you! Herd with your dogs! + + + ALIGI + + The Saviour will judge of me, father: + But this woman I shall not abandon, + Nor unto your wrath shall I leave her, + While living. The Saviour will judge me. + + + LAZARO + + I am the judge of you. Who + Am I then to you, blood and body? + + + ALIGI + + You are my own father, dear unto me. + + + LAZARO + + I am unto you your own father, and to you + I may do as to me it seem pleasing + Because unto me you are but the ox + In my stable; you are but my shovel + And hoe. And if I should over you + Pass with my harrow and tear you + And break you in pieces, this is well done! + And if I have need of a handle + For my knife, and one I shall make myself + Out of one of your bones, this is well done! + Because I am the father and you are the son! + Do you heed? And to me over you is given + All power, since time beyond time, + And a law that is over all laws. + And as even I was to my father, + So even are you unto me, under earth. + Do you heed? And if from your memory + This thing has fallen, then thus I recall + It unto your memory. Kneel down on your knees and kiss ye + The earth on your marrow-bones + And go off without looking behind you! + + + ALIGI + + Pass over me then with the harrow; + But touch not the woman. + +[LAZARO_ goes up to him, unable to restrain his rage, and lifting the +rope, strikes him on the shoulder._] + + + LAZARO + + Down, down, you dog, down, to the ground with you! + + + ALIGI [_falling on his knees_] + + So then, my father, I kneel down before you: + The ground in front of you do I kiss, + And in the name of the true God and living + By my first tear and my infant wailing + From the time when you took me unswaddled + And in your hand held me aloft + Before the sacred face of Lord Christ,-- + By all this, I beseech you, I pray you, my father, + That you tread not thus and trample + On the heart of your son sorrow-laden. + Do not thus disgrace him! I pray you: + Do not make his senses forsake him, + Nor deliver him into the hands of the False One-- + The Enemy who wheels now about us! + I pray you by the angel there silent, + Who sees and who hears in that wood block! + + + LAZARO + + Begone! Off with you! Off with you! + I shall shortly now judge of you. + Off with you, I bid you. Be off with you! + +[_He strikes him cruelly with the rope. _ALIGI_ rises all +quivering._] + + + ALIGI + + Let the Saviour be judge. Let him judge then + Between you and me, and let him give unto me + Light; but yet I will against you + Not lift up this my hand. + + + LAZARO + + Be you damned! With this rope I will hang you. + +[_He throws the lariat to take him but _ALIGI_, seizing the rope with +a sudden jerk, takes it out of his father's hands._] + + + ALIGI + + Christ my Saviour, help Thou me! + That I may not uplift my hand against him, + That I may not do this to my father! + + + LAZARO [_furious, goes to the door and calls_] + + Ho, Jenne! and ho, Femo! Come here! + Come here, and see this fellow, + What he is doing (may a viper sting him!) + Fetch the ropes. Possessed is he + Most surely. His own father he threatens! + +[_Running appear two men, big and muscular, bearing ropes._] + + He is rebellious, this fellow! + From the womb is he damned, + And for all his days and beyond them. + The evil spirit has entered into him. + See! See! Behold how bloodless + The face is. O Jenne! You take him and hold him. + O Femo, you have the rope, take it and bind him, + For to stain myself I am not wishing. + Then go ye and seek out some one + To perform the exconjuration. + +[_The two men throw themselves upon _ALIGI_ and overpower him._] + + + ALIGI + + Brothers in God! O, do not do this to me! + Do not imperil your soul, Jenne. + I who know you so well, who remember, + Remember you well from a baby, + Since you came as a boy to pick up the olives + In your fields. O Jenne dell Eta! + I remember you. Do not thus debase me. + Do not thus disgrace me! + +[_They hold him tightly, trying to bind him, and pushing him on +toward the entrance._] + + Ah! dog!--The pest take you!-- + No, no, no!--Mila, Mila! Hasten!-- + Give me the iron there. Mila! Mila! + +[_His voice, desperate and hoarse, is heard in the distance, while +_LAZARO_ bars _MILA'S_ egress._] + + + MILA + + Aligi, Aligi! Heaven help you! + May God avenge you! Never despair! + No power have I, no power have you, + But while I have breath in my mouth, + I am all yours! I am all for you! + Have faith! Have faith! Help shall come! + Be of good heart, Aligi! May God help you! + +[MILA_ gazes intently along the path where _ALIGI_ was borne and +listens intently for voices. In this brief interval _LAZARO_ +scrutinizes the cavern insidiously. From the distance comes the +singing of another company of pilgrims crossing the valley._] + + + LAZARO + + Woman, now then you have been seeing + How I am the man here. I give out the law. + You are left here alone with me. + Night is approaching, and inside here + It is now almost night. O don't + Be afraid of me, Mila di Codra, + Nor yet of this red scar of mine + If you see it light up, for now even + I feel in it the beat of the fever. + Come nearer me. Quite worn out you seem to be + For sure you've not met with fat living + On this hard shepherd's pallet. + While with me you shall have, if you want it, + All of that in the valley; for Lazaro + Di Roio is one of the thrifty. + But what do you spy at? Whom do you wait for? + + + MILA + + No one I wait for. No one is coming! + +[_She is still motionless, hoping to see _ORNELLA_ come and save her. +Dissimulating to gain time, she tries to defeat _LAZARO'S_ +intentions._] + + + LAZARO + + You are alone with me. You need not + Be frightened. Are you persuaded? + + + MILA [_hesitatingly_] + + I'm thinking, Lazaro di Roio. + I'm thinking of what you have promised. + I'm thinking. But what's to secure me? + + + LAZARO + + Do not draw back. My word I keep. + All that I promise, I tell you. + Be assured, God be witness. Come to me! + + + MILA + + And Candia della Leonessa? + + + LAZARO + + Let the bitterness of her mouth moisten + Her thread, and with that be her weaving! + + + MILA + + --The three daughters you have in your household? + And now the new one!--I dare not trust to it. + + + LAZARO + + Come here! Don't draw back! Here! Feel it! + Where I tucked it. Twenty ducats, + Sewed in this coat. Do you want them? + +[_He feels for them through his goatskin coat, then takes it off and +throws it on the ground at her feet._] + + Take them! Don't you hear them clinking? + There are twenty silver ducats. + + + MILA + + But first I must see them and count them,-- + First--before--Lazaro di Roio. + Now will I take these shears and rip it. + + + LAZARO + + But why spy about so? You witch! surely + You're getting some little trick ready. + You're hoping yet you'll deceive me. + +[_He makes a rush at her to seize her. She eludes him and seeks +refuge near the walnut block._] + + + MILA + + No, no, no! Let me alone! Let me alone! + Don't you touch me! See! See! She comes! See! See! she comes + Your own daughter--Ornella is coming. + +[_She grasps the angel to resist _LAZARO'S_ violence._] + + No, no! Ornella, Ornella, O help me! + +[Illustration: THE PARRICIDE. _Act II._] + +[_Suddenly _ALIGI_ appears, free and unbound, at the mouth of the +cave. He sees in the dim light the two figures. He throws himself +upon his father. Catching sight of the axe driven into the wood, he +seizes it, blind with fury and horror._] + + + ALIGI + + Let her go! For your life! + +[_He strikes his father to death. _ORNELLA_, just appearing, bends +down and recognizes the dead body in the shadow of the angel. She +utters a great cry._] + + + ORNELLA + + Ah! I untied him! I untied him! + + + + +ACT III. + +_A large country yard; in the farther end an oak, venerable with age, +beyond the fields, bounded by mountains, furrowed by torrents; on the +left the house of _LAZARO_, the door open, the porch littered with +agricultural implements; on the right the haystack, the mill, and the +straw stack._ + +_The body of _LAZARO_ is lying on the floor within the house, the +head resting, according to custom for one murdered, on a bundle of +grape-vine twigs; the wailers, kneeling, surround the body, one of +them intoning the lamentation, the others answering. At times they +bow toward one another, bending till they bring their foreheads +together. On the porch, between the plough and large earthen vessel, +are the kindred and _SPLENDORE_ and _FAVETTA_. Farther from them is +_VIENDA DI GIAVE_, sitting on a hewn stone, looking pale and +desolate, with the look of one dying, her mother and godmother +consoling her. _ORNELLA_ is under the tree, alone, her head turned +toward the path. All are in mourning._ + + + CHORUS OF WAILERS + + Jesu, Saviour, Jesu, Saviour! + 'T is your will. 'T is your bidding, + That a tragic death accursed + Lazaro fell by and perished. + From peak unto peak ran the shudder, + All of the mountain was shaken. + Veiled was the sun in heaven, + Hidden his face was and covered. + Woe! Woe! Lazaro, Lazaro, Lazaro! + Alas! What tears for thee tear us! + _Requiem æternam dona ei, Domine_. + (O Lord! give him rest eternal.) + + + ORNELLA + + Now, now! Coming! 'T is coming! Far off! + The black standard! The dust rising! + O sisters, my sisters, think, oh! think + Of the mother, how to prepare her!-- + That her heart may not break. But a little + And he will be here. Lo! at the near turn, + At the near turn the standard appearing! + + + SPLENDORE + + Mother of the passion of the Son crucified, + You and you only can tell the mother,-- + Go to the mother, to her heart whisper! + +[_Some of the women go out to see._] + + + ANNA DI BOVE + + It is the cypress of the field of Fiamorbo. + + + FELAVIA SESARA + + It is the shadow of clouds passing over. + + + ORNELLA + + It is neither the cypress nor shadow + Of storm-cloud, dear women, I see it advancing, + Neither cypress nor storm-cloud, woe's me! + But the Standard and Sign of Wrong-Doing + That is borne along with him. He's coming + The condemned one's farewells to receive here, + To take from the hands of the mother + The cup of forgetting, ere to God he commend him. + Ah! herefore are we not all of us dying, + Dying with him? My sisters, my sisters! + +[_The sisters all look out the gate toward the path._] + + + THE CHORUS OF WAILERS + + Jesu, Jesu, it were better + That this roof should on us crumble. + Ah! Too much is this great sorrow, + Candia della Leonessa. + On the bare ground your husband lying, + Not even permitted a pillow, + But only a bundle of vine-twigs, + Under his head where he's lying. + Woe! woe! Lazaro, Lazaro, Lazaro! + Alas! What pain for thee pains us! + _Requiem æternam dona ei, Domine_. + + + SPLENDORE + + Favetta, go you; go speak to her. + Go you, touch her on the shoulder. + So she may feel and turn. She is seated + Like unto a stone on the hearthstone, + Stays fixed there without moving an eyelash, + And she seems to see nothing, hear nothing; + She seems to be one with the hearthstone. + Dear Virgin of mercy and pity! + Her senses O do not take from her!--Unhappy one! + Cause her to heed us, and in our eyes looking + To come to herself, dear unhappy one. + Yet I have no heart even to touch her, + And who then will say the word to her? + O sister! Go tell her: Lo! he is coming! + + + FAVETTA + + Nor have I the heart. She affrights me. + How she looked before I seem to forget, + And how her voice sounded before, + Ere in the deep of this sorrow + We plunged. Her head has whitened + And it grows every hour whiter. + Oh! she is scarcely ours any more, + She seems from us so far away, + As if on that stone she were seated + For years a hundred times one hundred-- + From one hundred years to another-- + And had lost, quite lost remembrance + Of us.--O just see now, just see now, + Her mouth, how shut her mouth is! + More shut than the mouth that's made silent,-- + Mute on the ground there forever. + How then can she speak to us ever? + I will not touch her nor can I tell her-- + "Lo! he is coming!" If she awaken + She'll fall, she'll crumble. She affrights me! + + + SPLENDORE + + O wherefore were we born, my sisters? + And wherefore brought forth by our mother? + Let us all in one sheaf be gathered, + And let Death bear us all thus away! + + + THE CHORUS OF WAILERS + + --Ah! mercy, mercy on you, Woman! + --Ah! mercy be upon you, Women! + --Up and take heart again! The Lord God + Will uplift whom he uprooted. + If God willed it that sad be the vintage + Mayhap He wills, too, that the olives + Be sure. Put your trust in the Lord. + --And sadder than you is another, + She who sat in her home well contented, + In plenty, mid bread and clean flour, + Entering here, fell asleep, to awaken + Amid foul misfortune and never + Again to smile. She is dying: Vienda. + Of the world beyond is she already. + --She is there without wailing or weeping! + Ah! on all human flesh have thou pity! + On all that are living have mercy! + And all who are born to suffer, + To suffer and know not wherefore! + + + ORNELLA + + Oh, there Femo di Nerfa is coming, + The ox driver, hurriedly coming. + And there is the standard stopping + Beside the White Tabernacle. + My sisters, shall I myself go to her + And bear her the word? + Woe! oh, woe! If she does not remember + What is required of her. Lord God + Forbid that she be not ready + And all unprepared he come on her and call her, + For if his voice strike her ear on a sudden + Then surely her heart will be broken, broken! + + + ANNA DI BOVE + + Then surely her heart will be broken, + Ornella, if you should go touch her, + For you bring bad fortune with you. + 'T was you who barred up the doorway, + 'T was you who unfettered Aligi. + + + THE CHORUS OF WAILERS + + To whom are you leaving your ploughshare, + O Lazaro! to whom do you leave it? + Who now your fields will be tilling? + Who now your flocks will be leading? + Both father and son the Enemy + Has snared in his toils and taken. + Death of infamy! Death of infamy! + The rope, and the sack, and the blade of iron! + Woe! woe! Lazaro, Lazaro, Lazaro! + Alas! What torments for thee torment us! + _Requiem æternam dona ei, Domine_. + +[_The ox driver appears, panting._] + + + FEMO DI NERFA + + Where is Candia? O ye daughters of the dead one! + Judgment is pronounced. Now kiss ye + The dust! Now grasp in your hands the ashes! + For now the Judge of Wrong-Doing + Has given the final sentence. + And all the People is the Executor + Of the Parricide, and in its hands it has him. + Now the People are bringing here your brother + That he may receive forgiveness + From his own mother, from his mother + Receive the cup of forgetfulness, + Before his right hand they shall sever, + Before in the leathern sack they sew him + With the savage mastiff and throw him + Where the deep restless waters o'erflow him! + All ye daughters of the dead one, kiss ye + The dust now; grasp in your hands now the ashes! + And may our Saviour, the Lord Jesus + Upon innocent blood have pity! + +[_The three sisters rush up to each other, and then advancing slowly, +remain with their heads touching each other. From the distance is +heard the sound of the muffled drum._] + + + MARIA CORA + + O Femo, how could you ever say it? + + + FEMO DI NERFA + + Where is Candia? Why does she not appear here? + + + LA CINERELLA + + On the hearthstone, the stone by the fireplace + She sits and gives no sign of living. + + + ANNA DI BOVA + + And there's no one so hardy to touch her. + + + LA CINERELLA + + And affrighted for her are her daughters. + + + FELAVIA SESARA + + And you, Femo, did you bear witness? + + + LA CATALANA + + And Aligi, did you have him near you? + And before the judge what did he utter? + + + MONICA BELLA COGNA + + What said he? What did he? Aloud + Did he cry? Did he rave, the poor unfortunate one? + + + FEMO DI NERFA + + He fell on his knees and remained so, + And upon his own hand stayed gazing, + And at times he would say "_Mea culpa_," + And would kiss the earth before him, + And his face looked sweet and humble, + As the face of one who was innocent. + And the angel carved out of the walnut block + Was near him there with the blood-stain. + And many about him were weeping, + And some of them said, "He is innocent." + + + ANNA DI BOVA + + And that woman of darkness, Mila + Di Codra, has anyone seen her? + + + LA CATALANA + + Where is the daughter of Jorio? + Was she not to be seen? What know you? + + + FEMO DI NERFA + + They have searched all the sheepfolds and stables + Without any trace of her finding. + The shepherds have nowhere seen her, + Only Cosma, the saint of the mountain, + Seems to have seen her, and he says + That in some mountain gorge she's gone to cast her bones away. + + + LA CATALANA + + May the crows find her yet living + And pick out her eyes. May the wolf-pack + Scent her yet living and tear her! + + + FELAVIA SESARA + + And ever reborn to that torture + Be the damnable flesh of that woman! + + + MARIA CORA + + Be still, be still, Felavia, silence, I say! + Be silent now! For Candia has arisen, + She is walking, coming to the threshold. + Now she goes out. O daughters, ye daughters, + She has arisen, support her! + +[_The sisters separate and go toward the door._] + + + THE CHORUS OF WAILERS + + Candia della Leonessa, + Whither go you? Who has called you? + Sealed up are your lips and silent, + And your feet are like feet fettered. + Death you are leaving behind you, + And sin you find coming to meet you. + Wheresoever going, wheresoever turning, + Thorny everywhere the pathway. + Oh! woe! woe! ashes, ashes, widow! + Oh! woe! mother, Jesu! Jesu! mercy! + _De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine_. + (Out of the deep, O Lord, I cry unto Thee!) + +[_The mother appears at the threshold. The daughters timidly go to +support her. She gazes at them in great bewilderment._] + + + SPLENDORE + + Mother, dearest, you have risen, maybe + You need something--refreshment-- + A mouthful of muscadel, a cordial? + + + FAVETTA + + Parched are your lips, you dear one, + And bleeding are they? Shall we not bathe them? + + + ORNELLA + + Mommy, have courage, we are with you. + Unto this great trial God has called you. + + + CANDIA + + And from one warp came so much linen, + And from one spring so many rivers, + And from one oak so many branches, + And from one mother many daughters! + + + ORNELLA + + Mother dear, your forehead is fevered. For the weather + To-day is stifling, and your dress is heavy, + And your dear face is all wet with moisture. + + + MARIA CORA + + Jesu, Jesu, may she not lose her senses! + + + LA CINERELLA + + Help her regain her mind, Madonna! + + + CANDIA + + It is so long since I did any singing, + I fear I cannot hold the melody. + But to-day is Friday, there is no singing, + Our Saviour went to the mountain this day. + + + SPLENDORE + + O mother dear, where does your mind wander? + Look at us! Know us! What idle fancy + Teases you? Wretched are we! What is her meaning? + + + CANDIA + + Here, too, is the stole, and here, too, is the cup sacramental, + And this is the belfry of San Biagio. + And this is the river, and this my own cabin. + But who, who is this one who stands in my doorway? + +[_Sudden terror seizes the young girls. They draw back, watching +their mother, moaning and weeping._] + + + ORNELLA + + O my sisters, we have lost her! + Lost her, also, our dear mother! + Oh! too far away do her senses stray! + + + SPLENDORE + + Unhappy we! Whom God's malediction left + Alone in the land, orphans bereft! + + + FAVETTA + + By the other, a new grave make ready near + And bury us living all unready here! + + + FELAVIA SESARA + + No no, dear girls, be not so despairing, + For the shock is but pushing her senses + Far back to some time long ago. + Let them wander! thence soon to be turning! + +[CANDIA _takes several steps._] + + + ORNELLA + + Mother, you hear me? Where are you going? + + + CANDIA + + I have lost the heart of my dear gentle boy, + Thirty-three days ago now, nor yet do I find it; + Have you seen him anywhere? Have you met him afar? + --Upon Calvary Mountain I left him, + I left him afar on the distant mountain, + I left him afar in tears and bleeding. + + + MARIA CORA + + Ah! she is telling her stations. + + + FELAVIA SESARA + + Let her mind wander, let her say them! + + + LA CINERELLA + + Let her all her heart unburden! + + + MONICA DELIA COGNA + + O Madonna of Holy Friday, + Have pity on her! And pray for us! + +[_The two women kneel and pray._] + + + CANDIA + + Lo! now the mother sets out on her travels, + To visit her son well beloved she travels. + --O Mother, Mother, wherefore your coming? + Among these Judeans there is no safety. + --An armful of linen cloth I am bringing + To swathe the sore wounds of your body. + --Ah! me! had you brought but a swallow of water! + --My son!--No pathway I know nor wellspring; + But if you will bend your dear head a little + A throatful of milk from my breast I will give you, + And if then you find there no milk, oh so closely + To heart I will press you, my life will go to you! + --O Mother, Mother, speak softly, softly-- + +[_She stops for a moment, then dragging her words, cries out suddenly +with a despairing cry._] + + Mother, I have been sleeping for years seven hundred, + Years seven hundred, I come from afar off. + I no longer remember the days of my cradle. + +[_Struck by her own voice, she stops and looks about bewildered, as +if suddenly awakened from a dream. Her daughters hasten to support +her. The women all rise. The beating of the drum sounds less +muffled, as if approaching._] + + + ORNELLA + + Ah! how she's trembling, how she's all trembling! + Now she swoons. Her heart is almost broken. + For two days she has tasted nothing. Gone is she! + + + SPLENDORE + + Mamma, who is it speaks within you? What do you feel, + Speaking inside you, in the breast of you? + + + FAVETTA + + Oh! unto us hearken; heed us, mother, + Oh! look upon us! We are here with you! + + + FEMO DI NERFA [_from the end of the yard_] + + O women, women, he's near, the crowd with him. + The standard is passing the cistern now. + They are bringing also the angel covered. + +[_The women gather under the oak to watch._] + + + ORNELLA [in a loud voice] + + Mother, Aligi is coming now; Aligi is coming, + To take from your heart the token of pardon, + And drink from your hand the cup of forgetfulness. + Awaken, awaken, be brave, dear mother; + Accursed he is not. With deep repentance + The sacred blood he has spilled redeeming. + + + CANDIA + + 'T is true; oh, 'tis true. With the leaves he was bruising + They stanched the blood that was gushing. + "Son Aligi," he said then, "Son Aligi, + Let go the sickle and take up the sheep-crook, + Be you the shepherd and go to the mountain." + This his commandment was kept in obedience. + + + SPLENDORE + + Do you well understand? Aligi is coming. + + + CANDIA + + And unto the mountain he must be returning. + What shall I do? All his new clothing + I have not yet made ready, Ornella! + + + ORNELIA + + Mother, let us take this step. Turn now unto us; here, + In front of the house we must await him + And give our farewell to him who is leaving, + Then all in peace we shall lie down together, + Side by side in the deep bed below. + +[_The daughters lead their mother out on the porch._] + + + CANDIA [_murmuring to herself_] + + I lay down and meseemed of Jesus I dreamed, + He came to me saying, "Be not fearful!" + San Giovanni said to me, "Rest in safety." + + + THE CHORUS OF KINDRED + + --Oh what crowds of people follow the standard, + The whole village is coming after, + --Iona di Midia is carrying the standard. + --Oh how still it is, like a processional! + --Oh what sadness! On his head the veil of sable, + --On his hands the wooden fetters, + Large and heavy, big as an ox-yoke! + Head to foot the gray cloth wraps him, he is barefoot. + -Ah! Who can look longer! My face I bury, + I close up my eyes from longer seeing. + --The leathern sack Leonardo is bearing, + Biagio Gudo leads the savage mastiff. + --Mix in with the wine the roots of solatro + That he may lose his consciousness. + --Brew with the wine the herb novella + That he may lose feeling, miss suffering. + Go, Maria Cora, you who know the secrets, + Help Ornella to mix the potion. + --Dire was the deed, dire is the suffering. + Oh what sadness! See the people! + --Silently comes all the village. + --Abandoned now are all the vineyards. + --To-day, to-day no grapes are gathered. + --Yes, to-day even the land is mourning. + --Who is not weeping? Who is not wailing? + --See Vienda! Almost in death's agony. + Better for her that she lost her senses. + --Better for her that she see not, hear not. + --O woe for her bitter fate, three months only + Since we came and brought our hampers! + --And sorrow yet to come who may measure? + --No tears shall be left in us for weeping. + + + FEMO DI NERFA + + Silence, O kindred, for here comes Iona. + +[_The women turn toward the porch. There is a deep silence. The +voice of _IONA] + + + IONA + + O widow of Lazaro di Roio, + O people of this unhappy home, + Behold now! Behold now! The penitent is coming. + +[_The tall figure of _IONA_ appears bearing the standard. Behind him +comes the parricide, robed in gray, the head covered with a black +veil, both hands manacled in heavy wooden fetters. A man on one side +is holding the shepherd's carved crook; others carry the angel +covered with a white cloth, which they lower to the ground. The +crowd pushes between the straw stack and ancient oak. The waiters, +still on their knees, crawl to the door and lift up their voices in +cries and wailing towards the condemned one._] + + + THE CHORUS OF WAILERS + + Son, O son Aligi! Son, O son Aligi! + What have you done? What have you done? + Whose body is this body bleeding? + And who upon the stone has placed it? + Now hath come your hour upon you! + Black is the wine of the evil-doer! + Severed hand and death of infamy; + Severed hand and sack of leather! + Oh! woe! woe! O son of Lazaro. Lazaro + Is dead. Woe! Woe! And you slew Lazaro! + _Libera, Domine, animam servi tui_. + (Spare, O Lord, the soul of this thy servant.) + + + IONA DI MIDIA + + Grief is yours, Candia della Leonessa, + O Vienda di Giave, grief is yours, + Grief is yours, daughters of the dead one! Kindred, + May the Lord Saviour have pity on all of you, women, + For into the hands of the People, judging, + The Judge has now given Aligi di Lazaro. + That upon the deed infamous we may take vengeance, + A deed upon all of us fallen, and having no equal, + Nor among our ancestors known to memory, + And, may it forever be lost from memory, + By the grace of the Lord, from son to son, henceforth. + Now, therefore, the penitent one we lead hither, + That he may receive the cup of forgetfulness + From you here, Candia della Leonessa, + Since he out of your flesh and your blood was the issue, + To you 't is conceded to lift the veil of sable, + 'T is yielded you lift to his mouth the cup of forgetting, + Since his death unto him shall be exceeding bitter. + _Salvum fac populum tuum, Domine!_ + (Save, O Lord, these thy people) + _Kyrie eleison!_ + + + THE CROWD + + _Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison!_ + +[IONA _places his hand on _ALIGI'S_ shoulder. The penitent then +takes a step toward his mother, and falls, as if broken down, upon +his knees._] + + + ALIGI + + Praises to Jesus and to Mary! + I can call you no longer my mother, + 'T is given to me to bless you no longer. + This is the mouth of hell--this mouth! + To curses only these lips are given, + That sucked from you the milk of life, + That from your lips learned orisons holy + In the fear of the Lord God Almighty, + And of all of his law and commandments. + Why have I brought upon you this evil?-- + You--of all women born to nourish the child, + To sing him to sleep on the lap, in the cradle!-- + This would I say of my will within me, + But locked must my lips remain. + --Oh, no! Lift not up my veil of darkness + Lest thus in its fold you behold + The face of my terrible sinning. + Do not lift up my veil of darkness, + No, nor give me the cup of forgetting. + Then but little shall be my suffering, + But little the suffering decreed me. + Rather chase me with stones away, + Ay, with stones and with staves drive and chase me, + As you would chase off the mastiff even + Soon to be of my anguish companion, + And to tear at my throat and mumble it, + While my desperate spirit within me + Shall cry aloud, "Mamma! Mamma!" + When the stump of my arm is reeking + In the cursed sack of infamy. + + + THE CROWD [_with hushed voices_] + + --Ah! the mother, poor dear soul! See her! + See how in two nights she has whitened! + She does not weep. She can weep no longer. + --Bereft is she of her senses. + --Not moving at all. Like the statue + Of our Mater Dolorosa. O have pity! + --O good Lord, have mercy on her! + Blessed Virgin, pity, help her! + --Jesus Christ have pity on her! + + + ALIGI + + And you also, my dear ones, no longer + 'T is given me to call you sisters, + 'T is given me no longer to name you + By your names in your baptisms christened. + Like leaves of mint your names unto me, + In my mouth like leaves that are fragrant, + That brought unto me in the pastures + Unto my heart joy and freshness. + And now on my lips do I feel them, + And aloud am I fain to say them. + I crave no other consolation + Than that for my spirit's passing. + But no longer to name them 't is given me. + And now the sweet names must faint and wither, + For who shall be lovers to sing them + At eve beneath your casement windows? + For who shall be lovers unto the sisters + Of Aligi? And now is the honey + Turned into bitterness; O then, chase me, + And, like a hound, hound me away. + With staves and with stones strike me. + But ere you thus chase me, O suffer + That I leave unto you, disconsolate, + But these two things of my sole possession, + The things that these kindly people + Carry for me: the sheep-crook of bloodwood, + Whereon I carved the three virgin sisters, + In your likeness did I carve them, + To wander the mountain pastures with me,-- + The sheep-crook, and the silent angel, + That with my soul I have been carving. + Woe is me for the stain that stains it! + But the stain that stains it shall fade away + Some day, and the angel now silent + Shall speak some day, and you shall hearken, + And you shall heed. Suffer me suffer + For all I have done! With my woe profound + In comparison little I suffer! + + + THE CROWD + + Oh! the children, poor dear souls! See them! + See how pale and how worn are their faces! + --They too are no longer weeping + --They have no tears left for weeping. + Dry their eyes are, inward burning. + --Death has mown them with his sickle,-- + To the ground laid them low ere their dying. + Down they are mown but not gathered. + --Have mercy upon them, O merciful one! + Upon these thy creatures so innocent. + --Pity, Lord Jesus, pity! Pity! + + + ALIGI + + And you who are maiden and widow, + Who have found in the chests of your bridal + Only the vestment of mourning, + The combs of ebon, of thorns the necklace, + Your fine linen woven of tribulation, + Full of weeping your days ever more, + In heaven shall you have your nuptials, + And may you be spouse unto Jesus! + And Mary console you forever! + + + THE CROWD + + O poor dear one! Until vespers + Hardly lasting, and now drawing + Her last breath. Lost her face is + In her hair of gold all faded, + Even all her golden tresses. + --Now like flax upon the distaff, + --Or shade-grown grass for Holy Thursday. + --Yes, Vienda, maiden-widow, + Paradise is waiting for you. + --If she is not, then who is Heaven's? + --May Our Lady take you with her! + --Put her with the white pure angels! + --Put her with the golden martyrs! + + + IONA DI MIDIA + + Aligi, your farewells are spoken, + Rise now and depart. It grows late. + Ere long will the sun be setting. + To the Ave Maria you shall not hearken. + The evening star you shall not see glimmer. + O Candia della Leonessa, + If you, poor soul, on him have pity, + Give, if you will, the cup, not delaying, + For the mother art thou, and may console him. + + + THE CROWD + + Candia, lift up the veil, Candia! + Press his lips to the cup, Candia, + Give him the potion, give him + Heart to bear his suffering. Rise, Candia! + --Upon your own son take pity. + --You only can help him; to you, 't is granted. + --Have mercy upon him! Mercy, O mercy! + +[ORNELLA_ hands the mother the cup containing the potion. _FAVETTA_ +and _SPLENDORE_ encourage the poor mother. _ALIGI_, kneeling, creeps +to the door of the house and addresses the dead body._] + + + ALIGI + + Father, father, my father Lazaro, + Hear me. You have crossed over the river, + In your bier, though it was heavier + Than the ox-cart, your bier was, + And the rock was dropped in the river. + Where the current was swiftest, you crossed it; + Father, father, my father Lazaro, + Hear me. Now I also would cross over + The river, but I--I cannot. I am going + To seek out that rock at the bottom. + And then I shall go to find you: + And over me you will pass the harrow, + Through all eternity to tear me, + Through all eternity to lacerate me. + Father of mine, full soon I'll be with you! + +[_The mother goes toward him in deep horror. Bending down she lifts +the veil, presses his head upon her breast with her left hand, takes +the cup _ORNELLA_ offers and puts it to _ALIGI'S_ lips. A confusion +of muffled voices rises from the people in the yard and down the +path._] + + + IONA DI MIDIA + + _Suscipe, Domine, servum tuum._ + (Accept, O Lord, this thy servant.) + _Kyrie eleison._ + + + THE CROWD + + _Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison, + Miserere, Deus, miserere._ + --Do you see, do you see his face? + This do we see upon earth, Jesus! + --Oh! Oh! Passion of the Saviour! + --But who is calling aloud? And wherefore? + --Be silent now! Hush, hush! Who is calling? + --The daughter of Jorio! The daughter of Jorio, Mila di Codra! + --Great God, but this is a miracle! + --It is the daughter of Jorio coming. + --Good God! She is raised from the dead! + -Make room! Make room! Let her pass by! + --Accursed dog, are you yet living? + --Ah! Witch of Hell, is it you? + --She-dog! Harlot! Carrion! + --Back! Back! Make room! Let her pass! + --Come, she-thing, come! Make way! + --Let her pass through! Let her alone! In the Lord's name! + +[ALIGI _rises to his feet, his face uncovered. He looks toward the +clamoring crowd, the mother and sisters still near him. Impetuously +opening her way through the crowd, _MILA_ appears._] + + + MILA DI CODRA + + Mother of Aligi, sisters + Of Aligi, Bride and Kindred, + Standard-bearer of Wrong-Doing, and you, + All ye just people! Judge of God! + I am Mila di Codra. + I come to confess. Give me hearing. + The saint of the mountain has sent me. + I have come down from the mountain, + I am here to confess in public + Before all. Give me hearing. + + + IONA DI MIDIA + + Silence! Be silent! Let her have leave + To speak, in the name of God, let her. + Confess yourself, Mila di Codra. + All the just people shall judge you. + + [Illustration: THE SACRIFICE OF MILA DI CODRA. + _Act III._] + + + MILA + + Aligi, the beloved son of Lazaro, + Is innocent. He did not commit + + Parricide. But by me indeed was his father + Slain, by me was he killed with the axe. + + + ALIGI + + Mila, God be witness that thou liest! + + + IONA + + He has confessed it. He is guilty. + But you too are guilty, guilty with him. + + + THE CROWD + + To the fire with her! To the fire with her! Now, Iona, + Give her to us, let us destroy her. + --To the brush heap with the sorceress, + Let them perish in the same hour together! + --No, no! I said it was so. He is innocent. + --He confessed it! He confessed it! The woman + Spurred him to do it. But he struck the blow. + --Both of them guilty! To the fire! To the fire! + + + MILA + + People of God! Give me hearing + And afterward punish me. + I am ready. For this did I come here. + + + IONA + + Silence! All! Let her speak! + + + MILA + + Aligi, dear son of Lazaro, + Is innocent. But he knows it not. + + + ALIGI + + Mila, God be witness that thou liest. + Ornella (oh! forgive me that I dare to + Name you!) bear thou witness + That she is deceiving the good people. + + + MILA + + He does not know. Aught of that hour + Is gone from his memory. He is bewitched. + I have upset his reason, + I have confused his memory. + I am the Sorcerer's daughter. There is no + Sorcery that I do not know well, + None that I cannot weave. Is there one + Of the kindred among you, that one + Who accused me in this very place, + The evening of Santo Giovanni, + When I entered here by that door before us? + Let her come forth and accuse me again! + + + LA CATALANA + + I am that one. I am here. + + + MILA + + Do you bear witness and tell for me + Of those whom I have caused to be ill, + Of those whom I have brought unto death, + Of those whom I have in suffering held. + + + LA CATALANA + + Giovanna Cametra, I know. + And the poor soul of the Marane, + And Alfonso and Tillura, I know. + And that you do harm to every one. + + + MILA + + Now have you heard this thing, all you good people, + What this servant of God hath well said and truly? + Here I confess. The good saint of the mountain + Has touched to the quick my sorrowing conscience, + Here I confess and repent. O permit not + The innocent blood to perish. + Punishment do I crave. O punish me greatly! + To bring down ruin and to sunder + Dear ties and bring joys to destruction, + To take human lives on the day of the wedding + Did I come here to cross this threshold, + Of the fireplace there I made myself + The mistress, the hearth I bewitched, + The wine of hospitality I conjured, + Drink it I did not, but spilled it with sorceries. + The love of the son, the love of the father, + I turned into mutual hatred; + In the heart of the bride all joy strangled, + And by this my cunning, the tears + Of these young and innocent sisters + I bent to the aid of my wishes. + Tell me then, ye friends and kindred, + Tell me then, in the name of the Highest, + How great, how great is this my iniquity! + + + CHORUS OF THE KINDRED + + It is true! It is true! All this has she done. + Thus glided she in, the wandering she-dog! + While yet Cinerella was pouring + Her handful of wheat on Vienda. + Very swiftly she did all her trickery, + By her evil wishes overthrowing + Very swiftly the young bridegroom. + And we all cried out against it. + But in vain was our crying. She had the trick of it. + It is true. Now only does she speak truly. + Praises to Him who this light giveth! + +[ALIGI_, with bent head, his chin resting on his breast, in the +shadow of the veil, is intent and in a terrible perturbation and +contest of soul, the symptoms at the same time, appearing in him of +the effect of the potion._] + + + ALIGI + + No, no, it is not true; she is deceiving + You, good people, do not heed her, + For this woman is deceiving you. + All of them here were all against her, + Heaping shame and hatred on her, + And I saw the silent angel + Stand behind her. With these eyes I saw him, + These mortal eyes that shall not witness + On this day the star of vesper. + I saw him gazing at me, weeping. + O Iona, it was a miracle, + A sign to show me her, God's dear one. + + + MILA + + O Aligi, you poor shepherd! + Ignorant youth, and too believing! + That was the Apostate Angel! + +[_They all cross themselves, except _ALIGI_, prevented from doing so +by his fetters, and _ORNELLA_ who, standing alone at one side of the +porch, gazes intently on the voluntary victim._] + + Then appeared the Apostate Angel + (Pardon of God I must ever lack, + Nor of you, Aligi, be pardoned!) + He appeared your own two eyes to deceive. + It was the false and iniquitous angel. + + + MARIA CORA + + I said it was so. At the time I said it. + It was a sacrilege then, I cried. + + + LA CINERELLA + + And I said it, too, and cried out + When she dared call it the guardian angel + To watch over her. I cried out, + "She is blaspheming, she is blaspheming!" + + + MILA + + Aligi, forgiveness from you, I know, + Cannot be, even if God forgive me. + But I must all my fraud uncover. + Ornella, oh! do not gaze upon me + As you gaze. I must stay alone! + Aligi, then when I came to the sheepstead, + Then, even, when you found me seated, + I was planning out your ruin. + And then you carved the block of walnut, + Ah, poor wretch, with your own chisel, + In the fallen angel's image! + (There it is, with the white cloth covered, + I feel it.) Ah! from dawn until evening + With secret art I wove spells upon you! + Remember them, do you not now of me? + How much love I bestowed upon you! + How much humility, in voice and demeanor-- + Before your very face spells weaving? + Remember them, do you not now of me? + How pure we remained, how pure + I lay on your shepherd's pallet? + And how then?--how (did you not inquire?) + Such purity then, timidity, then, + In the sinning wayfarer + Whom the reapers of Norca + Had shamed as the shameless one + Before your mother? I was cunning, + Yea, cunning was I with my magic. + And did you not see me then gather + The chips from your angel and shavings, + And burn them, words muttering? + For the hour of blood I was making ready. + For of old against Lazaro + I nursed an old-time rancor. + You struck in your axe in the angel,-- + O now must you heed me, God's people! + Then there came a great power upon me + To wield over him there now fettered. + It was close upon night in that ill-fated + Lodging. Lust-crazed then his father + Had seized me to drag toward the entrance, + When Aligi threw himself on us, + In order to save and defend me. + I brandished the axe then with swiftness. + In the darkness I struck him, + I struck him again. Yea, to death I felled him! + With the same stroke I cried, "You have killed him." + To the son I cried out, "You have killed him. + Killed him!" And great in me was my power. + A parricide with my cry I made him-- + In his own soul enslaved unto my soul. + "I have killed him!" he answered, and swooning, + He fell in the bloodshed, naught otherwise knowing. + +[CANDIA_, with a frantic impulse, seizes with both hands her son, +become once more her own. Then, detaching herself from him, with +wilder and threatening gestures, advances on her enemy, but the +daughters restrain her._] + + + CHORUS OF KINDRED + + Let her do it, let her, Ornella! + --Let her tear her heart! Let her eat + Her heart! Heart for heart! + Let her seize her and take her + And underfoot trample her. + --Let her crush in and shiver + Temple to temple and shell out her teeth. + Let her do it, let her, Ornella! + Unless she do this she will not win back + Her mind and her senses in health again. + --Iona, Iona, Aligi is innocent. + --Unshackle him! Unshackle him! + --Take off the veil! Give him back to us! + --The day is ours, the people do justice. + --The righteous people give judgment. + --Command that he now be set free. + +[MILA _retreats near the covered angel, looking toward _ALIGI_, who +is already under the influence of the potion._] + + + THE CROWD + + --Praises be to God! Glory be to God! Glory to the Father! + --From us is this infamy lifted. + --Not upon us rests this blood-stain. + --From our generation came forth + No parricide. To God be the glory! + --Lazaro was killed by the woman, + The stranger, di Codra dalle Farne. + --We have said and pronounced: he is innocent. + Aligi is innocent. Unbind him! + --Let him be free this very moment! + --Let him be given unto his mother! + --Iona, Iona, untie him! Untie him! + Unto us this day the Judge of Wrong-Doing + Over one head gave us full power. + --Take the head of the sorceress! + --To the fire, to the fire with the witch! + --To the brushheap with the sorceress! + --O Iona di Midia, heed the people! + Unbind the innocent! Up, Iona! + --To the brush heap with the daughter + Of Jorio, the daughter of Jorio! + + + MILA + + Yes, yes, ye just people, yes, ye people + Of God! Take ye your vengeance on me! + And put ye in the fire to burn with me + The Apostate Angel, the false one,-- + Let it feed the flames to burn me + And let it with me be consumed! + + + ALIGI + + Oh! voice of promising, voice of deceit, + Utterly tear away from within me + All of the beauty that seemed to reign there, + Beauty so dear unto me! Stifle + Within my soul the memory of her! + Will that I have heard her voice never, + Rejoiced in it never! Smooth out within me + All of those furrows of loving + That opened in me, when my bosom + Was unto her words of deceiving + As unto the mountain that's channelled + With the streams of melting snow! Close up within me + The furrow of all that hope and aspiring + Wherein coursed the freshness and gladness + Of all of those days of deceiving! + Cancel within me all traces of her! + Will it that I have heard and believed never! + But if this is not to be given me, and I am the one + Who heard and believed and hoped greatly, + And if I adored an angel of evil, + Oh! then I pray that ye both my hands sever, + And hide me away in the sack of leather + (Oh! do not remove it, Leonardo), + And cast me into the whirling torrent, + To slumber there for years seven hundred, + To sleep in the depths there under the water; + In the pit of the river-bed, years seven hundred, + And never remember the day + When God lighted the light in my eyes! + + + ORNELLA + + Mila, Mila, 'tis the delirium, + The craze of the cup of forgetfulness + To console him he took from the mother. + + + THE CROWD + + --Untie him, Iona, he is delirious. + --He has taken the wine potion. + --Let his mother lay him down on the settle. + --Let sleep come! Let him slumber! + --Let the good God give him slumber. + +[IONA_ gives the standard to another and comes to _ALIGI_ to untie +him._] + + + ALIGI + + Yes, for a little while free me, Iona, + So that I may lift my hand against her + (No, no, burn her not, for fire is beautiful!) + So that I call all the dead of my birthplace, + Those of years far away and forgotten, + Far, far away, far, far away, + Lying under the sod, fourscore fathom, + To curse her forever, to curse her! + + + MILA [_with a heart-rending cry_] + + Aligi, Aligi, not you! + Oh! you cannot, you must not. + +[_Freed from the manacles, the veil withdrawn, _ALIGI_ comes forward +but falls back unconscious in the arms of his mother, the older +sisters and the kindred gathering around him._] + + + CHORUS OF KINDRED + + You need not be frightened. 'T is the wine only, + 'T is the vertigo seizes him. + --Now the stupor falls upon him. + --Now slumber, deep slumber, o'erpowers him. + --Let him sleep, and may God give him peace! + --Let him lie down! Let him slumber! + --Vienda, Vienda, he is yours again. + --From the other world both will return now. + _Laus Deo! Laus Deo! Gloria Patri!_ + +[IONA_ puts the manacles upon _MILA'S_ wrists, who offers both arms +and covers her head with the black veil, then taking the standard of +Wrong-Doing he pushes her toward the crowd._] + + + IONA + + I give to you, just people, + Into your hands, Mila di Codra, + The daughter of Jorio, that one + Who does harm to every one. + Do you perform justice upon her, + And let her ashes be scattered. + O Lord, save thy people. + _Kyrie eleison._ + + + THE CROWD + + _Christe eleison! Kyrie eleison!_ + To the fire, to the flames with the daughter + Of Jorio! The daughter of Jorio! + And to the fire with the Apostate Angel! + To the brushheap with them! To hell-fire with them! + + + ORNELLA [_with full voice in majesty_] + + Mila, Mila! My sister in Jesus, + I kiss your feet that hear you away! + Heaven is for thee! + + + MILA [_from within the crowd_] + + The flame is beautiful! The flame is beautiful! + + + + THE END + + The University Press, Cambridge, U.S.A. + + + + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76655 *** |