Sicilian Stories

by Giovanni Verga

  – Oh! gli disse Mara, sei venuto anche tu per la festa di San Giovanni!

  Jeli non avrebbe voluto entrare perché era vestito male, però massaro Agrippino lo spinse per le spalle dicendogli che non si vedevano allora per la prima volta, e che si sapeva che era venuto per la fiera coi puledri del padrone. La gnà Lia gli versò un bel bicchiere di vino e vollero condurlo con loro a veder la luminaria, insieme alle comari ed ai vicini.

  Arrivando in piazza, Jeli rimase a bocca aperta dalla meraviglia; tutta la piazza pareva un mare di fuoco, come quando si incendiavano le stoppie, per il gran numero di razzi che i devoti accendevano sotto gli occhi del santo, il quale stava a goderseli dall’imboccatura del Rosario, tutto nero sotto il baldacchino d’argento. I devoti andavano e venivano fra le fiamme come tanti diavoli, e c’era persino una donna discinta, spettinata, cogli occhi fuori della testa, che accendeva i razzi

  amid the crowd of onlookers at the inn door. In the public room there was a throng of people dancing and having fun, all red and sweaty, stamping their heavy shoes on the tiled floor so that not even the rumble of the bass fiddle could be heard. As soon as one number was over (they cost a grano each), they lifted a finger to show they wanted yet another; the bass player would make a cross on the wall with charcoal, to tot up the final reckoning, and he’d start over again. “These folks spend their money without counting,” Jeli kept saying, “which means they have full pockets, and aren’t hard up like me, for want of employment. They’re sweating and out of breath from dancing for pleasure as if they were getting paid by the day for it!” Farmer Cola came back to say that neighbor Macca didn’t need anyone. Then Jeli turned around and went off dejectedly.

  Mara’s home was near Sant‘Antonio, where the houses climb up the hill, facing the valley of Canziria, all green with prickly-pear cactus, and with the watermill wheels that froth down below in the millstream; but Jeli didn’t have the heart to go there, now that he had been rejected even as a swineherd; roaming among the crowd, which jostled and shoved him, taking no heed of him, he felt more lonely than when he had been with the colts on the Passanitello heaths, and he felt like crying. Finally farmer Agrippino met him in the square; he had been walking to and fro with dangling arms, enjoying the merrymaking, and now he began to shout after him: “Hey, Jeli, hey!” And he took him home with him. Mara was all dressed up, with big earrings that swung against her cheeks; she was standing in the doorway, her ring-laden hands on her stomach, waiting for dusk so she could go see the fireworks.

  “Oh,” Mara said to him, “you’ve come for St. John’s Day, too!”

  Jeli wouldn’t have gone in because he wasn’t properly dressed, but farmer Agrippino pushed him in from behind, saying they hadn’t just met and everyone knew he had come for the fair with his master’s colts. Mis’ Lia poured him a nice glass of wine, and they wanted to take him along to see the illuminations, together with their male and female neighbors.

  When they got to the square, Jeli’s mouth dropped open at the wonder of it all; the whole square resembled a sea of flames, just as when the stubble is burned, because of the great number of rockets that pious people were lighting in front of the saint, who was standing and enjoying it at the entrance to the Rosary Chapel, all in black beneath his silver canopy. The pious were walking back and forth amid the flames like so many devils, and there was even an untidy, disheveled woman, her

  anch’essa, e un prete colla sottana nera, senza cappello, che pareva un ossesso dalla devozione.

  – Quello lì è il figliuolo di massaro Neri, il fattore della Salonia, e spende più di dieci lire di razzi! diceva la gnà Lia accennando a un giovinotto che andava in giro per la piazza tenendo due razzi alla volta nelle mani, al pari di due candele, sicché tutte le donne se lo mangiavano cogli occhi, e gli gridavano – Viva San Giovanni.

  – Suo padre è ricco e possiede più di venti capi di bestiame, aggiungeva massaro Agrippino.

  Mara sapeva anche che aveva portato lo stendardo grande, nella processione e lo reggeva diritto come un fuso, tanto era forte e bel giovane.

  Il figlio di massaro Neri pareva che li sentisse, e accendesse i suoi razzi per la Mara, facendo la ruota dinanzi a lei; e dopo che i fuochi furono cessati si accompagnò con loro, e li condusse al ballo, e al cosmorama, dove si vedeva il mondo vecchio e il mondo nuovo, pagando lui per tutti, anche per Jeli il quale andava dietro la comitiva come un cane senza padrone, a veder ballare il figlio di massaro Neri colla Mara, la quale girava in tondo e si accoccolava come una colombella sulle tegole, e teneva tesa con bel garbo una cocca del grembiale, e il figlio di massaro Neri saltava come un puledro, tanto che la gnà Lia piangeva come una bimba dalla consolazione, e massaro Agrippino faceva cenno di sì col capo, che la cosa andava bene.

  Infine, quando furono stanchi, se ne andarono di qua e di là nel passeggio, trascinati dalla folla come fossero in mezzo a una fiumana, a vedere i trasparenti illuminati, dove tagliavano il collo a San Giovanni, che avrebbe fatto pietà agli stessi turchi, e il santo sgambettava come un capriuolo sotto la mannaja. Lì vicino c’era la banda che suonava, sotto un gran paracqua di legno tutto illuminato, e nella piazza c’era una folla tanto grande che mai s’erano visti alla fiera tanti cristiani.

  Mara andava al braccio del figlio di massaro Neri come una signorina, e gli parlava nell’orecchio, e rideva che pareva si divertisse assai. Jeli non ne poteva più dalla stanchezza, e si mise a dormire seduto sul marciapiede fin quando lo svegliarono i primi petardi del fuoco d’artifizio. In quel momento Mara era sempre al fianco del figlio di massaro Neri, gli si appoggiava colle due mani intrecciate sulla spalla, e al lume dei fuochi colorati sembrava ora tutta bianca ed ora tutta rossa. Quando scapparono pel cielo gli ultimi razzi in folla, il figlio di massaro Neri si voltò verso di lei, verde in viso, e le diede un bacio.

  Jeli non disse nulla, ma in quel punto gli si cambiò in veleno tutta la festa che aveva goduto sin allora, e tornò a pensare a tutte le sue

  eyes bulging out of her head, who was also lighting rockets, and a hatless priest in a black cassock who seemed obsessed with piety.

  “There’s the son of farmer Neri, the steward at Salonia; he’s offering more than ten lire’s worth of rockets!” Mis’ Lia, pointing to a young man who was walking around the square holding two rockets at once, like two candles, so that all the women were gobbling him up with their eyes and shouting to him: “Long live St. John!”

  “His father is rich and owns over twenty head of cattle,” farmer Agrippino added.

  Mara also knew that he had carried the big banner in the procession, holding it up as straight as a spindle, he was such a strong, well-built lad.

  Farmer Neri’s son seemed to hear them and to be lighting his rockets for Mara, showing off in front of her. After the fireworks were over, he joined their party and led them to the dance and the cosmorama, with its views of the Old and the New World; he paid for everyone, including Jeli, who followed behind the group like a dog without a master, watching farmer Neri’s son dance with Mara, who spun around and plumped down, like a little dove on the rooftiles, smartly holding out one corner of her pinafore, while farmer Neri’s son bounded like a colt, so that Mis’ Lia wept like a baby from contentment, and farmer Agrippino nodded his head approvingly to see matters going so well.

  Finally, when they were tired, they strolled to and fro on the “promenade,” carried along by the crowd as if in midcurrent of a river, looking at the illuminated transparencies in which St. John was depicted having his head cut off, in such a way that even the Turks themselves would pity him, while he was kicking up his legs like a young deer beneath the axe. Nearby the band was playing under a big wooden rainshed that was all lit up, and the square contained such a big crowd that never before had so many people been seen at the fair.

  Mara gave her arm to farmer Neri’s son like a fine young lady, whispered in his ear, and laughed so much that she seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. Jeli was worn out with fatigue, and fell asleep sitting on the sidewalk unti
l he was awakened by the first bursts of the fireworks. At that moment Mara was still by the side of farmer Neri’s son, leaning on him with her two hands joined on his shoulder; in the light of the multicolored fireworks she looked now all white, now all red. When the final mass of rockets soared into the sky, farmer Neri’s son turned toward her, his face in a green glow, and kissed her.

  Jeli said nothing, but at that moment all the enjoyment of the feast up till then turned into poison for him, and his mind reverted to all

  disgrazie che gli erano uscite di mente, e che era rimasto senza padrone, e non sapeva più che fare, né dove andare, e non aveva più né pane né tetto, che potevano mangiarselo i cani al pari dello stellato il quale era rimasto in fondo al burrone, scuoiato sino agli zoccoli.

  Intanto attorno a lui la gente faceva gazzarra ancora nel buio che si era fatto, Mara colle compagne saltava, e cantava per la stradicciola sassosa, mentre tornavano a casa.

  – Buona notte! buona notte! andavano dicendo le compagne a misura che si lasciavano per la strada.

  Mara dava la buona notte, che pareva che cantasse, tanta contentezza ci aveva nella voce e il figlio di massaro Neri poi sembrava proprio che non volesse lasciarla andare più, mentre massaro Agrippino e la gnà Lia litigavano nell’aprire l’uscio di casa. Nessuno badava a Jeli, soltanto massaro Agrippino si rammentò di lui, e gli chiese:

  – Ed ora dove andrai?

  – Non lo so – disse Jeli.

  – Domani vieni a trovarmi, e t’aiuterò a cercar dall’allogarti. Per stanotte torna in piazza dove siamo stati a sentir suonare la banda; un posto su qualche panchetta lo troverai, e a dormire allo scoperto tu devi esserci avvezzo.

  Jeli c’era avvezzo, ma quello che gli faceva pena era che Mara non gli diceva nulla, e lo lasciasse a quel modo sull’uscio come un pezzente; e il domani, tornando a cercar di massaro Agrippino, appena furono soli colla ragazza le disse:

  – Oh gnà Mara! come li scordate gli amici!

  – Oh, sei tu Jeli? disse Mara. No, io non ti ho scordato. Ma ero così stanca dopo i fuochi!

  – Gli volete bene almeno, al figlio di massaro Neri? chiese lui voltando e rivoltando il bastone fra le mani.

  – Che discorsi andate facendo! rispose bruscamente la gnà Mara. Mia madre è di là che sente tutto.

  Massaro Agrippino gli trovò da allogarlo come pecoraio alla Salonia, dov’era fattore massaro Neri, ma siccome Jeli era poco pratico del mestiere si dovette contentare di una grossa diminuzione di salario.

  Adesso badava alle sue pecore, e ad imparare come si fa il formaggio, e la ricotta, e il caciocavallo, e ogni altro frutto di mandra, ma fra le chiacchiere che si facevano alla sera nel cortile cogli altri pastori e contadini, mentre le donne sbucciavano le fave della minestra, se si veniva a parlare del figlio di massaro Neri, il quale si prendeva in moglie Mara di massaro Agrippino, Jeli non diceva più nulla, e nemmeno osava di aprir bocca. Una volta che il campajo lo motteggiò

  the disasters he had temporarily forgotten: that he was unemployed, and didn’t know what to do or where to go; that he had no means of support or any roof over his head now; that the dogs could come and eat him the way they’d eat Blaze, who was still at the bottom of the gorge, skinned to his hooves.

  Meanwhile, in the darkness that had set in around him, people were still raising a hubbub; Mara was dancing with her girlfriends and singing as they returned home over the stony path.

  “Good night! Good night!” her friends would say as they took their leave along the way.

  Mara said good night as if she were singing, there was so much satisfaction in her voice, and then farmer Neri’s son seemed really unwilling to let her proceed, while farmer Agrippino and Mis’ Lia argued as they opened the house door. No one paid any attention to Jeli; only farmer Agrippino remembered him, and asked him:

  “So where will you go now?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeli said.

  “Come and see me tomorrow, and I’ll help you find a situation. For tonight, go back to the square where we were listening to the band; you’ll find a place on some bench, and you must be used to sleeping in the open air.”

  Jeli was used to it, but the thing that saddened him was that Mara said nothing to him, but left him on the doorstep that way like a pauper. The next day, when he returned to look for farmer Agrippino, as soon as he was alone with the girl he said:

  “Oh, Mis’ Mara, how you forget your friends!”

  “Oh, is that you, Jeli?” Mara said. “No, I haven’t forgotten you. But I was so tired after the fireworks!”

  “Do you love him at least, farmer Neri’s son?” he asked, turning his staff around and around in his hands.

  “What guff you do talk!” Mara replied brusquely. “My mother’s over there and can hear everything.”

  Farmer Agrippino found him a situation as shepherd at Salonia, where farmer Neri was the steward, but since Jeli was inexperienced at the job, he had to be content with a big cut in pay.

  Now he looked after his sheep, learning how cheese, ricotta, caciocavallo, and all other sheep-milk products are made. But amid the evening gossip of the other herdsmen and peasants in the courtyard, while the women were shelling the beans for the soup, whenever the subject of conversation turned to farmer Neri’s son, who was going to marry farmer Agrippino’s Mara, Jeli stopped talking, and didn’t even venture to open his mouth. Once, when the chief shepherd laughed

  dicendogli che Mara non aveva voluto saperne più di lui, dopo che tutti avevano detto che sarebbero stati marito e moglie, Jeli che badava alla pentola in cui bolliva il latte, rispose facendo sciogliere il caglio adagio adagio:

  – Ora Mara si è fatta più bella col crescere, che sembra una signora.

  Però siccome egli era paziente e laborioso, imparò presto ogni cosa del mestiere meglio di uno che ci fosse nato, e siccome era avvezzo a star colle bestie amava le sue pecore come se le avesse fatte lui, e quindi il male alla Salonia non faceva tanta strage, e la mandra prosperava ch’era un piacere per massaro Neri tutte le volte che veniva alla fattoria, tanto che ad anno nuovo si persuase ad indurre il padrone perché aumentasse il salario di Jeli, sicché costui venne ad avere quasi quello che prendeva col fare il guardiano dei cavalli. Ed erano danari bene spesi, ché Jeli non badava a contar le miglia e miglia per cercare i migliori pascoli ai suoi animali, e se le pecore figliavano o erano malate se le portava a pascolare dentro le bisaccie dell’asinello, e si recava in collo gli agnelli che gli belavano sulla faccia col muso fuori del sacco, e gli poppavano le orecchie. Nella nevicata famosa della notte di Santa Lucia la neve cadde alta quattro palmi nel lago morto alla Salonia, e tutto all’intorno per miglia e miglia che non si vedeva altro per tutta la campagna, come venne il giorno, – e delle pecore non sarebbero rimaste nemmeno le orecchie, se Jeli non si fosse alzato nella notte tre o quattro volte a cacciare le pecore pel chiuso, così le povere bestie si scuotevano la neve di dosso, e non rimasero seppellite come tante ce ne furono nelle mandre vicine – a quel che disse Massaro Agrippino quando venne a dare un’occhiata ad un campicello di fave che ci aveva alla Salonia, e disse pure che di quell’altra storia del figlio di massaro Neri, il quale doveva sposare sua figlia Mara, non era vero niente, ché Mara aveva tutt’altro per il capo.

  – Se avevano detto che dovevano sposarsi a Natale, disse Jeli.

  – Non è vero niente, non dovevano sposare nessuno; tutte chiacchiere di gente invidiosa che si immischia negli affari altrui; rispose massaro Agrippino.

  Però il campajo, il quale la sapeva più lunga, per averne sentito parlare in piazza, quando andava in paese la domenica, raccontò invece la cosa tale e quale com’era, dopo che massaro Agrippino se ne fu andato. Non si sposavano più perché il figlio di massaro Neri aveva

  at him, saying that Mara hadn’t wanted to have anything more to do with him, after everyone had said they’d be man and wife one day, Jeli, who was watching the pot in which the milk was boiling, answered as he slowly separated out the curds:

  “Now that she’s grow
n up, Mara has become more beautiful, and she looks like a fine young lady.”

  But, since he was patient and diligent, he quickly learned all the details of his job better than some people who are born to it; and since he was accustomed to be around animals, he loved his sheep as though they were his children; therefore the sheep disease wasn’t as deadly at Salonia, and the flock prospered so well that farmer Neri was pleased every time he visited the farmhouse—until, at the new year, he decided to persuade the proprietor to raise Jeli’s pay. Thus he came to earn nearly as much as he had when he herded the horses. And it was money well spent, because Jeli didn’t trouble to count the miles and miles he covered in quest of the best grazing for his flock, and when the ewes lambed or were sick he’d transport them to the pasture in the donkey’s saddlebags, and would carry on his shoulders the lambs, which bleated in his face, their noses protruding from the sack, and sucked at his ears. In the unforgettable snowstorm on St. Lucy’s night,8 when the snow fell to a depth of four spans on the Dead Lake at Salonia, and for miles and miles around, so that nothing else could be seen in the whole countryside when day came, not even the ears of the sheep would have been left showing if Jeli hadn’t gotten up three or four times during the night to drive the flock into the fold, so that the poor animals could shake off the snow that was on them, and weren’t buried as so many others were in the neighboring flocks, according to what farmer Agrippino said when he came to inspect a small beanfield he had at Salonia. He also said that that other story about farmer Neri’s son going to marry his daughter Mara hadn’t a grain of truth in it, since Mara had quite other plans in her head.

  “But people said they were to be married at Christmas,” Jeli said.

  “It’s not true at all, they weren’t getting married to anybody; it was all the gossip of envious people butting into other folks’ business,” farmer Agrippino replied.