Grazia Deledda

“ And he mistook the joy he felt at the prospect of seeing Agnes again in a few moments for the satisfaction of doing his duty in going to save her. All the sweet scent of the grass, all the tender radiance of the moon bathed and purified his soul, and the healing dew fell upon it even through his clothes of deathlike black.
Agnes, little mistress! In truth, she was little, weak as a child, and she was all alone, without father or mother, living in that labyrinth of stone, her dark house under the ridge. ”

“ The hundred lire stolen! Whatever would Margherita Carboni say, if she knew that he, Anania, the son of the olive-miller, the foundling, the dependent with whom the little lady was deigning to be so pleasant and affable—had stolen a hundred lire and that these hundred lire were at this moment hidden in her own garden! A thief! He was a thief; and he had thieved an enormous sum. Now he perceived the full shame of his evil deed. Now he felt humiliation, grief, remorse.
"Like a cat?" echoed Margherita setting her teeth and twisting her little nose; "dear me! dear me! It would be better he died." ”

“ She leaned from the balcony; pinks were at her feet; over a sweet heaven of velvety blue passed the moon distant and melancholy, distant and pure, like a sail lost in the immensity of the ocean of dream.
Naturally Regina's thoughts flew to the terrace on the shore of the Albano lake, where rose-leaves fell like butterflies on the iridescent mother-o'-pearl of the moonlit water.
What was Antonio doing? Was it possible that the monstrous dream which crushed her could have any reality? Under the infinite purity of the heavens could such wickedness be wrought on earth? ”

“ It was nearly dark when the Eras at last reached the village. Mount Bellu, the colossus of that company of sphinxes, had enveloped itself in a cloak of purple mist, and stood out against the pale, grey sky. The street was already silent and deserted, and the clatter of the horse's hoofs on the rough stone paving resounded like the blows of a hammer. One after another their companions turned off, so that when they reached their own home, the two women were quite alone.
The Era cottage stood on a little flat clearing, above the level of the street. ”

“ She saw again in her mind's eye the lashes trembling on his cheeks, like those of a child about to cry, and her mother's heart melted with tenderness and pity.
"And why, oh Lord, why, why?"
She dared not complete her question, but it remained at the bottom of her heart like a stone at the bottom of a well. Why, oh Lord, was Paul forbidden to love a woman? Love was lawful for all, even for servants and herdsmen, even for the blind and for convicts in prison; so why should Paul, her child, be the only one to whom love was forbidden? ”

“ Anania watched in anguish, his soul oppressed by a tremendous thought.
Then came the police. Two of the brawlers ran away, the rest calmed down, the women shut themselves into their houses. In a short time all was silence, broken only by the distant rumble of a carriage, by the hoarse croaking of the frogs.
But in Anania's soul dolorous tumult raged still. Alas! the illumined sea which had flooded his soul while he poured over his letters on the hill of Bonaria, had grown dark, and was tossed and torn by tempest.
"Oh God! oh God! grant she may be dead. Have pity on me, Lord!" ”

“ Giacobbe's eyes grew dim, and presently he stumbled and clutched hold of Isidoro for support.
The women were moving along on a trot, like a herd of colts; their voices rose, fell, rose again, and seemed to die away into the chill night air, overpowered at last by the even, strident notes of the cithern, like the gasps of some wounded animal left to die alone in the forest.
At last they reached the little widow's house. A fire was burning in the slate-stone fireplace in the centre of the kitchen, laid on a little heap of live coals which had just been taken out of the oven. ”

“ In the brilliant yet drowsy spring mornings while the young pair still lay in the big white bed, Antonio would repeat his questions to himself: "What do we lack! Are we not happy?"
Through the half-shut windows soft light stole in and gilded the walls. Infinite beatitude seemed to reign in the room veiled by that mist of gold, fragrant with scent, lulled to a repose unshaken by the noises of the distant world. In the profound sweetness of the nuptial chamber Regina felt herself at moments conquered by that somnolent beatitude. Antonio's searching question had its echo in her soul also. ”

“ He continued to gaze steadfastly at her, as one gazes at the dying, and his fear increased. He slid to his knees before her, he laid his head in her lap and kissed her hands; he cared nothing now if he were seen or heard, he knelt there at the feet of the woman and her sorrow as at the feet of the Mother of Sorrows herself. Never before had he felt so pure of evil thought, so dead to this earthly life; and yet he was afraid.
Agnes sat motionless, with icy hands, insensible to those kisses of death. Then he got up and began to speak lies again. ”

“ He wanted to start at once for the Cantoniera, but without difficulty allowed himself to be persuaded to wait.
Another sad night passed. Though his limbs were stiff with fatigue he slept little, on that hard pallet where he had been born, on which he wished that this night he might die. The wind shook the roof, roaring like a sea in storm. It reminded Anania of his infancy; the distant terrors, the wintry nights, the touch of his mother who clasped him to her, more for fear than for love. No, she had not loved him. Why delude himself? She had not loved him. ”

“ Now she remembered the almost physical disgust which Madame Makuline had caused her the very first time they had met. She remembered Arduina's untidy, depressing little drawing-room, the wet sky, the melancholy night; the little old woman dressed in black, sheltering under a doorway, with her meagre basket of unripe lemons. In the shadow, dense as the blackness of pitch, Antonio's face had become suddenly sad, overcast, mysterious. The Princess's pallid, expressionless face, with its thick, colourless lips, appeared in that depth of shade like a dismal moon floating among the clouds of dream. ”

“ The old fisherman, seated before his fireplace, was getting supper ready for himself and Costantino, who still made his home with him. Outside, the air felt almost cold, the wind was rising, and long, violet-coloured clouds were flying across the clear, greenish, western sky. Uncle Isidoro was thinking sadly of that evening when, amid the chanting of the women, they had interred Giacobbe Dejas in the dungheap. The earthen pot bubbled on the fire, and from without came the melancholy rustling of the fig-tree and the bushes, shaken by the wind. ”

“ With this wild hope in his heart, he dreamed away a long time, till he had reached the bottom of the slope of Monte Spada, and had again begun to ascend to the topmost peak of the Gennargentu. A torrent ran at the bottom, among enormous rocks and alder trees shaken by a sudden gust of wind. The sound of the alders in the silence of that place of mystery, brought a strange fancy to Anania; it seemed as if the winds had been wakened by this hope which animated him, and that all things were moved by it, the lonely trees trembling like wild men surprised in their gloomy solitude by a sudden joy. ”

“ The figure of Agnes came before her, with the proud look that concealed all she really felt.
"She is strong too," thought the mother; "she will hide everything."
Then slowly she rose from her chair and began to cover the fire with ashes, banking it up carefully so that no sparks could fly out and set fire to anything near: then she shut the house door, for she knew Paul always carried a key with him. She stamped about loudly, as though he could hear her across the square, and believe her firm footsteps to be an outward sign of her inward assurance. ”

“ But Regina also was cross, and did not listen.
The heat made everybody cross and stupid. Regina, moreover, felt at the end of her forces; her pride and her dignity were bending like leaves scorched by the sun. She was anxiously expecting to be joined by Antonio. Perhaps to-day she would really be given a sign; what sort of sign she did not know, but she waited. She waited; ashamed of being in this house, of facing that old woman, who was as impassive as a deaf sphinx; yet ashamed also of being ashamed. ”

“ A tiny gleam flashed out from Aunt Bachissia's cottage; by its light the old woman was endeavouring, with the aid of a rough broom, to sweep out the water that had poured over her threshold. The sky, beyond the yellow fields, looked like a stretch of still, green water; and in the foreground the almond-tree, glossy and dripping, dominated everything around it. Beneath the almond-tree, in the last gleam of daylight, Brontu appeared on horse-back; horse and rider alike black and steaming, and lagging along as though sodden and weighted by the deluge that had poured over them. ”

“ Anania remained alone on the deck, numbed by the damp breeze, and saw the moon, red like molten iron, sink into a turbid and sanguinous distance. At last he too turned in, but was long ere he slept. He felt as if his body were incessantly growing longer and shorter. An interminable line of carts seemed crossing over his torpid person. The most unpleasant recollections of his life came into his head. The clashing of the waves cut by the keel seemed the wind in the widow's cottage at Fonni. Oh what a vain, useless, odious thing was life! What was the good of living at all? ”

“ Bursts of laughter and the buzz of foreign voices mixed with the rattle of silver and the ring of china cups. It was a palace of crystal; a world of joy, of fairy creatures unacquainted with the realities of life, dwelling in the enchantment of groves of palms, rosy in the light of dream!
"The realities of life!" thought Regina, "but is not this the reality of life? It's the life of us mean little people which is the ugly dream!" ”

“ Margherita, I am in your hands. Have pity on me and on yourself too. Be what I have always dreamed you are. Think how short life is, and that love is the only reality of life, and that no one in the world will love you as I do. Don't tread out our happiness for the sake of worldly prejudices, prejudices invented by envious men to make all equally unhappy. You are good, you are above me. Say to me one word of hope for the future. And remember, whatever may happen, I shall be yours for all eternity. Write to me at once.
ANANIA. ”

“ Costantino, on the other hand, had fallen away, his eyes were big and cavernous, and his hands transparent.
The sun! he thought to himself bitterly. Yes, they have indeed got that; but what good is the sun even, when one has nothing to eat, and is suffering every kind of privation? He was, no doubt, a great simpleton, but as he thought of these things, he sometimes cried like a child. Yet all the time he never gave up hope. The years passed by; day followed day slowly, regularly, uneventfully, like drops of water in a grotto, dripping from stone to stone. ”

“ A long wall was fleeting past the train; then came houses, hedges, gardens, canes bending under the wind, now and then lamps flaring yellow in the great whiteness of the autumn moon.
"San Paolo! The Tiber!" said Antonio, still at Regina's side.
San Paolo! The Tiber! Regina just perceived the sheen of the river and her heart beat strongly. Yet, as often happened to her, after the first moment's wild [6] delight, a shadow of melancholy diffidence stole over her soul.
"Yes!" she thought, "Rome! the capital, the wonder city; where there is no fog, which is full of sunshine and flowers! ”

“ Yes, all was Ashes; life, death, the human kind; destiny itself which had produced them.
And yet in that supreme hour, shadowed by that figure of aged Fate, which seemed Death in waiting,—in the presence of the remains of that most wretched of all the daughters of men, who, after doing and suffering wrong in all its manifestations, had died for another's good,—Anania felt that among the ashes lurks the spark, the seed of the luminous and purifying flame; and Hope returned to him, and he felt that he loved life still. ”

“ The two women rode one horse, a dejected-looking beast, tractable and mild. Their travelling companions had gradually drifted away; some riding on ahead; others falling behind, but all alike were silent and depressed, overpowered by the suffocating heat, the stillness, and the sad outcome of their journey. They felt Costantino's misfortune almost as keenly as the women themselves, and out of respect for Giovanna's dumb agony, either remained silent, or, if they spoke, did so in undertones that awoke no echoes, and failed even to break the intense silence. ”

“ Sometimes the two would go off together to fish for leeches; that is, Isidoro would stand patiently knee-deep in the yellow, stagnant water, while Costantino, stretched on his back among the rushes, would spin yarns about his former fellow-prisoners, gazing off, meanwhile, towards the horizon with an unaccountable feeling of homesickness.
Go away? go away? Did he not long to go away? Did he not, up there, beneath that fateful sky, in the deathly solitude of the uplands, under the eternal surveillance of those colossal sphinxes, feel as though an iron circle were pressing upon him? ”

“ As the coach neared Mamojada, the vividness of his recollections became almost painful. In the arch made by the coach's hood was depicted the same landscape which Anania had seen that day, his little head drooping on her knee; the same melancholy sky of unvaried blue was stretched above. A sudden breeze swept over the green country with its strong undulating lines and rows of wild bushes. Here and there the violet gleam of water was just visible. The whistle of marsh birds was heard. A shepherd, bronze against a luminous background, watched the horizon.
Here was the Cantoniera. ”

“ People hurried through the streets, their faces livid; the women showed petticoat-edges pasted with mud; the heaven itself was soiled; and Regina's soul made shipwreck amid this ocean of mud and water. She would come in drenched and exasperated; within-doors it was cold; there was no fire, and there was continual annoyance. She was uncomfortable at the table in those high round chairs, opposite the sarcastic countenance of Massimo, Sor Gaspare's red visage, the enormous panting bosom of Signora Anna. ”

“ She is wretched, ill, grown old with suffering and privation. My duty, you yourself will say it at once, is to redeem her. I have resolved to live with her, to sacrifice, if need be, life itself to fulfil my duty. Margherita, what more can I say? Never as at this moment have I felt the need of showing you all my soul. It is like a stormy sea, and words fail me at this moment which is the turning point of my life. I have your kisses still on my lips, and I tremble with love and with grief. ”

“ But our garden, Antonio, our garden is arid and melancholy. We were as yet too poor to come together and to make a garden. My eyes were blindfolded when I married you and came with you to Rome; I fancied that in Rome our two little incomes would represent as much as they represented in my country. I have perceived, too late, that instead they are hardly sufficient for our daily bread. And on bread alone one cannot live. It means death, or at least grave sickness for any one unused to such a diet. And love, no matter how great, is not enough to cure the sick one! ”

“ Giovanna's head was burning beneath her woollen kerchief upon which the sun's rays beat mercilessly; and big tears coursed silently down her cheeks. She tried to hide them from her mother, who was riding on the saddle, while she was seated on the crupper, but Aunt Bachissia heard, Aunt Bachissia saw, even out of the back of her head; and presently she could contain herself no longer.
"Look here, my soul," said she suddenly, as they traversed the bottom of the valley, between great thickets of flowering oleanders; "will you have the goodness to stop? What are you crying for, anyhow? ”

“ Anania climbed on the heap of shining shale which marked the summit, and flung himself on the ground to escape the fury of the blasts which blew from all sides. The whole island was stretched out before him, with its blue mountains and its silver sea, glittering under the midday sun. Overhead the heaven was immense, infinite, void as human thought. The wind raged furiously in the great emptiness. Its assaults invested Anania in mad fury, in the violent anger of a formidable wild beast, which would permit the approach of no other being to the aereal cave where it was resolved to reign alone. ”

“ Regina crossed the desolate garden and watched the friar, with profound pity, wondering he could still walk, though he was dead to life.
She thought of her baby, the little Caterina. Ah! she should be taught to appreciate, to enjoy, to adore life!
"How many dead people there are in the world!" she thought. "I myself was dead till a few months ago. Now I have revived a little, but I am not so much alive as my baby shall be! I am only a resuscitated person with the memory of the grave still in my soul." ”

“ Coming out at last into the silent, deserted street, filled with the odour of the dry fields, they began talking again of Costantino, and Brontu said, with brutal frankness, that he was glad of the sentence.
"Go to the devil!" shouted Giacobbe. "You have no heart!"
"All right, that's it; I have no heart."
"Just because Giovanna wouldn't have you, you are glad to hear of the death, or worse than death, of a brother."
"He's not dead, and he's not a brother; and it was I who would not have Giovanna Era. If I had wanted her to, she would have licked the soles of my shoes." ”

“ He plucked the iris flowers, murmuring the name of Margherita. He ascended a hill green with asphodel, from which he had a vision of the city so red in the sunset, of the sea which seemed an immense cauldron of boiling gold. The sky flamed, the earth exhaled delicate fragrance. Little purple clouds lost on the horizon suggested a caravan with men and camels, vanishing in splendour. Anania felt so happy that he fluttered his handkerchief and cried aloud, saluting the invisible being who was the soul of the sea, the glory of the heaven, the spirit of that ineffable distance—Margherita! ”

“ More often they went to Ponte Nomentano, taking the baby with them, carried on the servant's arm. Antonio would amuse himself pretending to pursue Caterina; the maid would run and the baby contort herself with joy, screaming like the swifts, pink with the fearful delight of being hunted and not caught. Then Regina would linger behind, looking at the vermilion sky, the rosy lawns, the tranquil distance, all that grand country of aspect monotonous and solemn; like the life of a poet [272] who has sung immortal songs without ever having had an adventure or committed a crime. ”

“ And good-bye, Margherita! Light and sweetness among shadows, a rainbow in the cloud, a frame of pearl glorifying the dingy painting of dull memory I Margherita, good-bye!
The day of departure drew near. Aunt Tatàna made endless preparations. She provided shirts and socks, fruit, and cakes white as ivory, cheese, a fowl, dozens of salted eggs, wine, honey, raisins, saddle-bags, and baskets filled to the brim.
"But these are stores for a whole army!" said Anania.
"Hush, my son! You will find it all necessary. There you will have no one to care for you, poor child. Oh! what will become of you?" ”

“ But some day it's to be all penumbra! Every one's to be like us, every one's to live in a little dark Apartment with interminable stairs; all the streets are to be dusty, overrun by smelly trams, by troops of middle-class women who will go about on foot, dressed with sham elegance, wearing mock jewellery, carrying paper fans; joyous with a pitiable joy. The whole world will be tedium and destitution. The beggars won't have attained to the dreams which made them happy; the children of the rich will live on nostalgia, remembering the dream which was once reality to them. ”

“ ANANIA, MY NINO,—I have waited for you till this moment trembling with grief and love; but you have not come. Perhaps you are never coming any more, and I write to you at this sweet hour of our meetings with death in my heart and tears in my eyes which have not yet wept themselves out. The pale moon is sinking in a clouded heaven, the night is sad, it seems to me that all creation is oppressed by the ill-fortune which has crushed our love. ”