Antonio Fogazzaro

“ Luisa was seated upon the bed with her dead baby in her arms, holding her tight, kissing her face and neck, and uttering long, heart-rending groans as she pressed her lips to the little body.
"Yes, yes, yes," she was saying, with almost a smile of tenderness in her voice. "It is your uncle, dear, your uncle, who is coming to see his little treasure, his little Maria, his little Missipipì, who loves him so much! Yes, yes, yes!"
"Luisa," said Uncle Piero, "you must control yourself. Everything that could be done has been done. ”

“ Franco must go away, leave his wife, his child, and the old man, perhaps for some months, perhaps for some years. He must leave Valsolda, the dear little house, his flowers, perhaps for ever. He must emigrate to Piedmont, seek for work and gain, in the hope of being able to call his family to him in case that other great national hope should not be realised. He was glad his wife had chosen this solemn place and hour in which to encourage him in his sacrifice, and he did not drop the gentle hand, but held it as a lover might, never looking at Luisa, his face and person immovable. ”

“ He who, being Peace and Life, has allowed Himself to be called the God of armies, [Pg 417] had impressed the sign of His judgment upon the face of the woman and upon the face of the man. While dawn burned into the glory of sunrise, Franco's brow became ever more brightly illumined by a light from within, and through his tears his eyes shone with the vigour of life; but Luisa's brow grew ever darker, and from the depths, the shadows mounted to her dull eyes.
As the sun rose a boat came in sight off the point of Caravina. ”

“ Franco answered, and resumed the Milan Gazette.
As soon as his grandmother had left the room he flung the paper aside, clenched his fists, and giving vent to his anger in a sort of furious snort, sprang to his feet, saying aloud—
"Ah! It is better so! Better, better so!" It was better so, he continued to assure himself mutely. Better never to bring Luisa to this accursed house, better never to oblige her to bear this rule, this arrogance, this voice, this face! Better to live on bread and water, and look to hard work for the rest, rather than to accept anything from his grandmother's hand. ”

“ Nothing was heard save, now and then, a sharp order from the detective, and a low-toned reply from the gendarmes. Nothing moved around them, save their great shadows wavering on the walls. The silence of the Receiver, of Franco and Luisa, was like the silence of those who have risked great sums in a secret gaming-house, and stand about the players who, from time to time, speak some brief word. The sinister face and voice of the detective never changed, although he had not discovered anything. To Luisa he seemed a man sure of achieving his purpose. ”

“ To Ester it seemed incredible that a head so clear and strong could be thus deluded. At the same time she realised the extreme difficulty of convincing her by gentle means, and all the cruelty of using harsh measures with her.
The professor lit a candle and went upstairs to the study, followed by Luisa. We are acquainted with this study that was like a ship's cabin, its shelves filled with books, its little fireplace, its windows overlooking the lake and the armchair in which Maria had gone to sleep one Christmas Eve. The room now contained something else. ”

“ Since Maria's death Uncle Piero had lapsed into a state of almost complete silence which Luisa believed to be the beginning of the apathy of old age. She did not understand that in the old man's soul profound disapproval was mingled with grief, nor did she understand how great was his aversion to these daily and repeated visits to the cemetery, the flowers, the mysterious journeys to Casarico, and above all, how he regretted her complete abandonment of the church. ”

“ So it was not possible for Luisa to come to an understanding with her husband on this delicate point. She must act alone and very cautiously, in order neither to offend nor to grieve him. When Franco pointed out to the child the stars and the moon, the flowers and the butterflies, as admirable works of God, using poetically religious language fit for a child of twelve, Luisa held her peace; but if, on the contrary, he chanced to say to Maria: "Mind, God does not wish you to do that!" Luisa would immediately add: "That is wicked! You must never do what is wicked!" ”

“ Toni Gall soon returned with a candle and Dr. Aliprandi—whom I am happy to recall here as a frank and upright man, possessed of a fine intellect and a noble heart—approached the sofa where Uncle Piero sat.
"Engineer Ribera," said he with tears in his eyes, "it is time for you to do something now."
"For me to do something?" said Uncle Piero, raising his eyes.
"Yes. We must at least try to get her away. You must come and speak a word. You are like a father to her. At such moments as these it is a father's place to speak."
"Let my master alone," Cia grumbled. "He can't do these things. ”

“ It was very cold in the darkness of the hall which had been unoccupied since five o'clock, but Franco did not notice this. He threw himself upon the sofa, giving himself up entirely to his grief, to his anger, to an easy and violent mental defence of himself against his wife. As Luisa had rebelled against God and against himself—though indeed she had made a distinction—he now found it convenient to make common cause in his heart with that other mute and terrible One whom she had offended. At first astonishment, bitterness, rage, good reasons and bad, formed a whirling tempest in his brain. ”

“ With a few broad strokes, he spreads before us a landscape of ineffable beauty, or shows us the fury of the maddened elements. How marvellous in its solemn grandeur is the picture of the struggle between the sun and the fog, which Uncle Piero witnesses from the terrace at Oria! How wonderful in its awe-inspiring realism is the story of Franco's journey across the mountains, in the darkness of a moonless night! ”

“ Ever since the receipt of the telegram Franco had walked the streets of Turin like one in a dream, deaf to the noise of his own footsteps, unconscious of what he saw, of what he heard, going mechanically wherever it was necessary for him to go at this juncture, wherever a certain servile and lower faculty of the soul might lead him, that faculty composed of reason and of instinct, which is capable of guiding us through a labyrinth of city streets, while the mind, concentrated upon some problem, some passion, takes no heed of our movements. ”

“ Barborin, misunderstanding the expression of her eyes, thought she read a reproach there, and began to cry, her face buried in her hands, shaking those two poor black curls, and saying through her fingers that she was so distressed about it, so distressed! She would rather have lived on bread and water for a year than invite the Marchesa to dinner. This dinner was indeed a cross to her, for it took a deal of thought, and then there was the trouble of preparing everything, to say nothing of Pasotti's awful scoldings, but the worst part of it all was the idea of displeasing Luisa. ”

“ Gilardoni answered. "It seems to me a thought of great beauty! I cannot say: a great truth. Indeed I do not know. I have never thought about it, but it is very beautiful! I will say that Christianity has never had, has never even imagined a Saint so sublime as this some one! It is very beautiful, very beautiful!"
"And besides," Luisa continued after a short silence, "it might also be maintained that this future would not mean perfect happiness. Can there be happiness if we do not know the reasons of all things? If we may not explain all mysteries? ”

“ He begged the old Bishop's prayers for his Luisa and for himself, and expressed a faith in God so perfect and so pure, that the most unbelieving heart must have been touched by it.
Fiery and impetuous as he was, still Franco possessed the calm and simple faith of a little child. Entirely free from pride, a stranger to philosophical meditations, he was ignorant of that thirst for intellectual liberty which torments young men, when their senses begin to find themselves hampered by that strong curb—positive beliefs. ”

“ That was perhaps easier to conceive than the existence of an invisible tyrant, of a Creator who was cruel to the beings of His own creation. The rule of nature without God was certainly preferable; better a blind master, who was not our enemy, not deliberately cruel. But henceforth, at least, no thought must be wasted in any way, either in this life or in the next—if, indeed, the next exist—upon that vain phantom, Justice!
The faint light of dawn mingled with her thoughts as it had mingled with Franco's thoughts, solemn and consoling to him, hateful to her. ”

“ The two curls, hanging on either side of her meek ugliness, gave her a special air of resignation, under the umbrella of her husband, proprietor, inspector and jealous custodian of so much elegance.
The three went up to the portico, by means of which the little Villa Maironi spans the road leading from the landing-stage to the parish-church of Cressogno. Between two happy sighs, the curate and Pasotti sniffed an indistinct, warm odour, which floated out from the open vestibule of the villa.
"Ah! risotto! risotto!" the priest whispered, with a greedy glow on his face. ”

“ Signora Teresa had passed away in the drawing-room in the armchair from which she had never been able to rise after the night of the wedding. They had made the sofa into a funeral couch, and laid her out upon it. The sweet face rested there on the pillow, showing waxen in the light of the four candles, the lips were slightly parted, and it [Pg 130] was as if a smile shone through the closed eyelids. The couch and the clothes were strewn with autumn flowers; cyclamen, dahlias and chrysanthemums. "See how beautiful she is," said Luisa, in a tender, quiet tone that went to the heart. ”

“ All these anxious thoughts were rising higher and higher, threatening to become dominant, to place themselves in bold opposition to that image of the cemetery of Oria, which from time to time would return with impetuous violence, as if to snatch back its own. At the station of Cannero, Luisa heard the noise of many steps and of loud talking above her head, and went upstairs to look after her uncle. A party of soldiers, recalled to service, had come out to the steamer in two large barges. Other small boats bore women, children, and old men, who were crying and waving good-bye. ”

“ Franco was boiling. The nasty little monster, imbued with his mistress' arrogance and egotism, paused at his feet, and Franco rolled him roughly towards Carlotta, who grabbed him, and punished him with an angry squeeze, and then carried him off, answering his whines with deceitful words of pity. "What did they do to you, poor Friend? What did they do to you? Tell us all about it!"
The Marchesa made no remarks, nor did her marble countenance betray her feelings. She ordered the footman to tell the prefect of the Caravina, or any one else who might call, that his mistress had retired. ”

“ Those liberal poets, Franco and Luisa, had breathed upon things and changed their aspect. Franco's poetry was more ardent, fervid and passionate; Luisa's more prudent. Thus Franco's sentiments always flamed out in his eyes, his face, his words, while Luisa's seldom burst into flames, and only tinged the depths of her penetrating glance, and her soft voice. Franco was conservative only in matters of religion and art; he was an ardent radical as far as the domestic walls were concerned, always planning transformations of ceilings, walls, floors, and drapery. ”

“ Luisa recognised her husband in the midst of a noisy group. Franco saw her, and springing ashore, ran towards her, while she came forward a few steps to meet him. They embraced, he speechless and blind with emotion, laughing and crying, full of gratitude, but uncertain as to her state of mind, as to how he should regulate his conduct; she more composed, extremely pale, and serious. "God bless you! God bless you!" he kept repeating, as they turned towards the hotel. Then Franco overwhelmed her with questions, first about her journey and the passing of the frontier, and then about Uncle Piero. ”

“ Oh, Franco! your daughter is indeed very religious in your own way! The last prayer she repeats is a requiem for poor Grandmamma Teresa. 'Mamma,' said she when she had finished, 'I want to recite a requiem for the grandmother in Cressogno also.' Never mind my answer. My words were bitter; perhaps I did wrong; I am even ready to confess I did wrong. Maria looked at me, and said: 'Is the grandmother at Cressogno really wicked?' 'Yes.' 'But why does Uncle Piero say she is not really wicked?' 'Because Uncle Piero is so very good.' 'Then you are not so very good?' My dear little innocent! ”

“ Luisa, loving her husband as she did, was much troubled that the child should exhibit greater affection for herself; however this sentiment of hers was less lively, less pure, than Franco's generous pleasure. It seemed to Luisa that, after all, in spite of his transports, Franco loved his daughter as a being distinct from himself, while she, who had no transports of external tenderness, loved the child as a vital part of herself. Moreover she cherished in her heart a future Maria probably very different from the one Franco cherished. ”

“ Dear Luisa, I also speak to our treasure every day, speak to her of myself and of you as well; I am convinced that she sees us, that she loves us, that she can still do much for us even in this life. How I wish that your intercourse with her might be of the same nature! If, in answering your letter in which you allude to a communication from her I expressed myself too harshly, forgive me, not only in consideration of my hasty temper, but still more in consideration of my sentiments, which are indeed a part of my nature. ”