 Chapter 5 of The House by the Medlar Tree by Giovanni Verga translated by Mary A. Craig This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham. Mena did not know that there was an idea of marrying her to Padron Cipolla's Brassi to make the mother forget her grief, and the first person to tell her it was Alfio Mosca, who a few days later came to the garden gate on his way back from Aci Castello with his donkey cart. Mena replied, It isn't true, it isn't true! But she was confused, and as he went on telling her all about how he had heard it from La Vespa in the house of Uncle Crucifix, all of a sudden she turned red all over. As an Alfio too lost countenance, seeing the girl like that with her black kerchief over her head, he began to play with the buttons of his coat, stood first on one leg, then on the other, and would have given anything to get away. Listen, it isn't my fault I heard it in old Dumbbell's court while I was chopping up the locus tree that was blown down in the storm at the Santa Clara, you remember? Now Uncle Crucifix gets me to do chores for him because he won't hear of La Locca's son ever since his brother played in that trick with the cargo of lupins. Mena had the string of the gate in her hand, but couldn't make up her mind to open it. And then, if it isn't true, why do you blush? She didn't know that was the truth, and she turned the latch string round and round. That person she only knew by sight, and hardly that. Alfio went on telling her the whole litany of Brassichipola's riches. After Uncle Nassau, the butcher, he was the best match in the place, and all the girls were ready to eat him up with their eyes. Mena listened with all hers, and all of a sudden she made him a low curtsy, and went off up the garden path to the house. Alfio, in a fury, went off and scolded La Vespa for telling him such a lot of stupid lies, getting him into hot water with everybody. Uncle Crucifix told me, replied La Vespa, I don't tell lies. Lies, lies, growled Old Crucifix, I ain't going to dam my soul for that lot. I heard it with these ears. I heard also that the Providenza is in Maruzza's dowry, and that there's a mortgage of two francs a year on the house. You wait, and you'll see if I tell lies or not, continued La Vespa leaning back against the bureau with her hands on her hips, and looking at him all the time with the wickedest eyes. You men are all alike, one can't trust any of you. Meanwhile Uncle Crucifix didn't hear, and instead of eating went on talking about the Malavolia, who were talking of marriages in the family, but of the two hundred francs for the Lupins. Nobody heard a word. Hey, cried La Vespa losing patience, if one listened to you, nobody would get married at all. I don't care who gets married or who doesn't, I want my own, I don't care for anything else. If you don't care about it, who should? I say everybody isn't like you, always putting things off. And are you in a hurry, pray? Of course I am, you have plenty of time to wait, you're so young, but everybody can't wait till the cows come home to get married. It's a bad year, said Uncle Dumbell, no one has time to think of such things as those. La Vespa, at this, planted her hands on her hips, and went off like a railway whistle, as if her own wasp sting had been on her tongue. Now listen to what I'm going to say, after all my living is mine and I don't need to go about begging for a husband. What do you mean by it? If you hadn't come filling my head with your flattery and nonsense, I might have had half a thousand husbands, Vanny Pizzotti and Alfie Mosca and my cousin Kola, that was always hanging onto my skirts before he went for a soldier, and wouldn't even let me tie up my stockings, all of them burning with impatience too. They wouldn't have gone on leading me by the nose this way, and keeping me slinging round from Easter until Christmas as you've done. This time Uncle Crucifix put his hand behind his ear to hear the better, and began to smooth her down with good words. Yes, I know you're a sensible girl, for that I am fond of you, and I'm not like those fellows that were after you to nobble your land, and then to eat it up at Santuzza's tavern. It isn't true, you don't love me. If you did, you wouldn't act this way. You would see what I am really thinking of all the time. Yes, you would. She turned her back on him, and still went on poking at him as if unconsciously with her elbow. I know you don't care for me, she said. The Uncle was offended by this unkind suspicion. You say these things to draw me into sin, he began to complain. He did not care for his own flesh and blood, for she was his own flesh and blood after all, as the vineyard was, and it would have been his if his brother hadn't taken it into his head to marry and bring the wasp into the world, and for that he had always kept her as the apple of his eye and thought only of her good. Listen, he said. I thought of making over to you the debt of the Malavolia in exchange for the vineyard, which is worth forty scoody, and with the expenses and the interest may even reach fifty scoody, and you may get hold even of the house by the medlar, which is worth more than the vineyard. Keep the house by the medlar for yourself, said she. I'll keep my vineyard. I know very well what to do with it. Then Uncle Crucifix also flew into a rage, and said that she meant to let it be gobbled up by that beggar Alfio Mosca who made fish's eyes at her for love of the vineyard, and that he wouldn't have him about the house any more, and would have her to know that he had blood in his veins, too. I declare if he isn't jealous, cried the wasp. Of course I'm jealous, said the old man, jealous as a wild beast, and he swore he'd pay five francs to whoever would break Alfio Mosca's head for him, but would not do it himself, for he was a God-fearing Christian, and in these days honest men were treated, for good faith dwells in the house of the fool, where one may buy a rope to hang oneself. The proof of it was that one might pass and repass the house of the Malavolia till all was blue, until people had begun to make fun of him, and to say that he made pilgrimages to the house by the Medla, as they did who made vows to the Madonna at Ognino. The Malavolia paid him with bows and nothing else, and the boys, if they saw him enter the street, ran off as if they had seen a bugbear. But until now he hadn't heard a word of that money for the lupins. And all souls was hard at hand, and here was Padron Antoni talking of his granddaughter's marriage. He went off and growled at Gusfut, who had got him into this scrape, he said to others, but the other said he went to cast sheep's eyes at the house by the Medla tree, and La Loca, who was always wondering about there because she had been told that her son had gone away in the Malavolia's boat, and she thought he would come back that way, and she should find him there. Never saw her brother Crucifix without beginning to screech like a bird of ill omen, making him more furious than ever. This one will drive me into a mortal sin, cried Dumbell. All souls has not yet come, answered Gusfut, gesticulating as usual. Have a little patience. Do you want to suck Padron Antoni's blood? You know very well that you've really lost nothing, for the lupins were good for nothing. You know that. He knew nothing. He only knew that his blood was in God's hands, and that the Malavolia boys dared not play on the landing when he passed before Gusfut's door, and if he met Alfio Mosca with his donkey cart, who took off his cap with his sunburned face, he felt his blood boiling with jealousy about the vineyard. He wants to entrap my niece for the sake of the vineyard. He grumbled to Gusfut a lazy hound who does nothing but strut round with that donkey cart, and has nothing else in the world, a starving beggar, a rascal who makes that ugly witch of a niece of mine believe that he's in love with her pig's face for love of her property. Meanwhile, Alfio Mosca was not thinking of Vesper at all, and if he had anyone in his eye, it was rather Padron and Tony's men whom he saw every day in the garden or on the landing, or when she'd went to look after the hens in the chicken coop, and if he heard the pair of fouls he had given her cackling in the courtyard, he felt something stir inside of him, and felt as if he himself were there in the court of the house by the medlar. And if he had been something better than a poor carter, he would have asked for Santa Agata's hand in marriage, and carried her off in the donkey cart. When he thought of all these things, he felt as if he had a thousand things to say to her, and yet when she was by, his tongue was tied, and he could only talk of the weather, or the last load of wine he had carried for the Santuzza, and of the donkey who could draw four quintals way better than a mule, poor beast. Mena stroked the poor beast with her hand, and Alfio smiled as if it had been himself whom she had caressed. Ah, if my donkey were yours, cousin Mena! And Mena shook her head sadly, and wished that the malevolia had been carriers, for then her poor father would not have died. The sea is salt, she said, and the sailor dies in the sea. Alfio, who was in a hurry to carry the wine to Santuzza, couldn't make up his mind to go, but stayed, chatting about the fine thing it was to keep tavern, and how that trade never fell off, and if the wine was dear one had only to pour more water into the barrels. Uncle Santoro had grown rich in that way, and now he only begged for amusement. And you two very well, carrying the wine, do you not? asked Mena. Yes, in summer, when I can travel by night and by day both, that way I manage pretty well. This poor beast earns his living. When I shall have saved a little money, I'll buy a mule, and then I can become a real carrier, like Master Mariano Cinchialenta. The girl was listening intently to all that Alfio was saying. And meanwhile the gray olive shook, with a sound like rain, and strewed the path with little dry, curly leaves. Here is the winter coming, and all this we talk of is for the summer, said Goodman Alfio. Mena followed with her eyes the shadows of the clouds that floated over the fields, as if the gray olive had melted and blown away. So the thoughts flew through her head, and she said, Do you know, cousin Alfio, there is nothing in that story about Padron Fortunato Cipolla, because first we must pay the debt for the lupins. I'm glad of it, said Mosca, so you won't go away from the neighborhood. When Antoni comes back from being a soldier, grandfather and all of us will help each other to pay the debt. Mama has taken some linen to weave for her ladyship. The druggists is a good trade, too, said Alfio Mosca. At this moment appeared cousin Vena Razupida with her distaff in her hand. Oh heaven, somebody's coming, cried Mena, and ran off into the house. Alfio whipped the donkey, and wanted to get away as well, but, oh, Goodman Alfio, what a hurry you're in, cried Razupida. I wanted to ask you if the wine you're taking to Santuzza is the same she had last time. I don't know, they give me the wine and barrel. That last was vinegar, only fit for salad. Regular poison it was. That's the way Santuzza gets rich, and to cheat the better, she wears the big medal of the daughters of Mary on the front of a dress. Nowadays, whoever wants to get on must take to that trade, else they go backward like crabs as the Malavolia have. Now they have fished up the Providenza, you know. No, I was away, but cousin Mena knew nothing of it. They have just brought the news, and Padron Antoni has gone off to the Rotolo to see her toad in. He went as if he had got a new pair of legs, the old fellow. Now, with the Providenza, the Malavolia can get back where they were before, and Mena will again be a good match. Alfio did not answer, for the Zupida was looking at him fixedly, with her little yellow eyes. And he said he was in a hurry to take the wine to Santuzza. He won't tell me anything, muttered the Zupida. As if I hadn't seen them with my eyes, they want to hide the sun with a net. The Providenza had been towed to shore, all smashed, just as she had been found beyond the cape of the mills, with her nose among the rocks and her keel in the air. In one moment the whole village was at the shore, men and women together, and Padron Antoni, mixed up with the crowd, looked on like the rest. Some gave kicks to the poor Providenza to hear how she was cracked, as if she no longer belonged to anybody, and the poor old man felt those kicks in his own stomach. A fine Providence you have, said Don Franco to him, for he too had come, in his shirt sleeves and his great ugly hat, with his pipe in his mouth, to look on. She's only fit to burn, concluded Padron Fortunato Cipolla, and good man Magiakarube, who understood those matters, said that the boat must have gone down all of a sudden, without leaving time for those on board, to cry, Lord Jesus help us! For the sea had swept away sails, masts, oars, everything, and hadn't left a single bolt in its place. This was Papa's place, where there's the new rollock, said Luca, who had climbed over the side, and here were the lupins underneath. But of the lupins there was not one left. The sea had swept everything clean away. For this reason Maruzza would not leave the house, and never wanted to see the Providence again in her life. The hull will hold, something can't be made of it yet, pronounced Master Zuppidu, the Corker, kicking the Providence at two, with his great ugly feet. With three of her patches she can go to sea again. Never be fit for bad weather, a big wave would send her all to pieces. But for long shore fishing, and for fine weather she'll do very well. Padron Cipolla, good man Maggia Carube, and cousin Cola stood by, listening in silence. Yes, said Padron Fortunato at last. It's better than setting fire to her. I'm glad of it, said Uncle Crucifix, who also stood looking on, with his hands behind his back. We are Christians, and should rejoice in each other's good fortune. What says the proverb? Wish well to thy neighbour, and thou wilt gain something for thyself. The boys had installed themselves inside the Providenza, as well as the other lads who insisted on climbing up into her too. When we have mended the Providenza properly, said Alessio, she will be like Uncle Cola's Conchetta, and they gave themselves no end of trouble, pushing and hauling at her to get her down to the beach, before the door of Master Zupido de Corka, where there were the big stones to keep the boats in place, and the great kettles for the tar, and heaps of beams, and ribs, and knees leaning against the wall. Alessio was always at loggerheads with the other boys, who wanted to climb up into the boat, and to help to fan the fire under the kettle of pitch, and when they pushed him he would say in a threatening wine, Wait till my brother Antoni comes back. In fact, Antoni had sent in his papers and obtained his leave. Although Don Silvestro, the town clerk, had assured him that if he would stay on six months longer as a soldier, he would liberate his brother Luca from the conscription. But Antoni wouldn't stay even six days longer, now that his father was dead. Luca would have done just as he did, if that misfortune had come upon him while he was away from home, and wouldn't have done another stroke of work if it hadn't been for those dogs of superiors. For my part, said Luca, I am quite willing to go for a soldier instead of Antoni. Now when he comes back, the providenza can put to sea again, and there'll be no need of anybody. That fellow, cried Padron Antoni, with great pride, is just like his father Bastianato, who had a heart as big as the sea, and as kind as the mercy of God. One evening Padron Antoni came home panting with excitement, exclaiming, Here's the letter, good man Cirino, the sacristan gave it to me, as I came from taking the net to Papa Fave. The longer turned quite pale for joy, and they all ran into the kitchen to see the letter. Antoni arrived with his cap over one ear, and a shirt covered with stars, and his mother couldn't get enough of him as the whole family and all his friends followed him home from the station. In a moment the house was full of people, just as it had been at the funeral of poor Bastianato, whom nobody thought of now. Some things nobody remembers but old people, so much so that LaLoca was always sitting before the Malavolia house against the wall, waiting for her menniko, and turning her head this way and that at every step that she heard passing up or down the alley. End of chapter 5 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 6 Of The House by the Medlar Tree by Giovanni Verga, translated by Mary A. Craig This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham Antoni got back on a Sunday, and went from door to door saluting his friends and acquaintances, the centre of an admiring crowd of boys, while the girls came to the windows to look at him. The only one that was not there was Mammy Tudas Cera. She has gone to Oninno with her husband, Santuzza told him. She has married Menniko Trinka, a widower with six children but as rich as a hog. She married him before his first wife had been dead a month, God forgive us all. A widower is like a soldier, added LaZupida. A soldier's love is soon cold at top of drum, adieu, my lady. Cosenvenera, Cosenvenera, who went to the station to see if Mammy Tudas Cera would come to say goodbye to Padron Antoni's Antoni, because she had seen them talking to each other over the vineyard wall, hoped to put Antoni out of countenance by this piece of news. But time had changed him too, out of sight, out of mind, and Antoni now wore his cap over his ear. I don't like those flirts who make love to two or three people at a time, said the Manjia Karube, pulling the ends of her kerchief tighter under her chin and looking as innocent as a Madonna. If I were to love anybody, I'd stick to that one and would change no not for Victor Emmanuel himself or Garibaldi even. I know whom you love, said Antoni with his hand on his hip. No, Cousin Antoni, you don't know. They have told you a lot of gossip without a word of truth in it. If ever you are passing my door, just you come in and I'll tell you the whole story. Now that the Manjia Karube has set a heart on Padron Antoni's Antoni, it will be a real mercy for his cousin Anna if anything comes of it, said Cousin Venora. Antoni went off in high feather, swaggering with his hand on his hip, followed by a train of friends, wishing that every day might be Sunday, that he might carry his pretty shirts out or walking. That afternoon he amused himself by wrestling with Cousin Pizzotti, who hadn't the fear of God before his eyes, though he had never been for a soldier, and sent him rolling on the ground before the tavern with a bloody nose. But Rocco Spattu was stronger than Antoni and threw him down. In short, Antoni amused himself the whole day long, and while they were sitting, chatting round the table in the evening, and his mother asked him all sorts of questions about one thing and another, and men looked at his cap and his shirt with the stars to see how they were made, and the boys half asleep gazed at him with all their eyes. His grandfather told him that he had found a place for him by the day on board Padron Fortunato Cipolla's bark at very good wages. I took him for charity, said Padron Fortunato, to whoever would listen to him sitting on the bench in front of the barber's shop. I took him because I couldn't bear to say no when Padron Antoni came to ask me under the elm if I wanted men for the bark. I never have any need of men, but in prison, in sickness, and in need one knows one's friends, with Padron Antoni too, who is so old that his wages are money thrown away. He's old, but he knows his business, replied old Goosefoot. His wages are by no means thrown away, and his grandson is a fellow that anyone might be glad to get away from him, or from you for that matter. When Master Bastion has finished mending the Providenza, we'll get her to see again, then we shan't need to go out by the day, said Padron Antoni. In the morning, when he went to wake his grandson, it wanted two hours to dawn, and Antoni would have preferred to remain under the blankets. When he came yawning out into the court, the three sticks were still high over on yinno, and the pudara, the great bear, shone on the other side, and all the stars glittered like the sparks under a frying pan. It's the same thing over again as when I was a soldier and they beat the Ravalli on deck, growled Antoni. It wasn't worth while coming home at this rate. Hush, said Alessio. Grandpa Pa is out there getting ready the tackle. He's been up an hour already. But Alessio was a boy just like his father Bastionat, so rest his soul. Grandfather went about here and there in the court with his lantern. Outside could be heard the people passing towards the sea, knocking at the doors as they passed to rouse their companions. All the same when they came to the shore, where the stars were mirrored in the black smooth sea, which murmured softly on the stones, and saw here and there the lights of the other boats, Antoni too felt his heart swell within him. Ah, he exclaimed with a mighty stretch of his arms, it is a fine thing to come back to one's own home. This sea knows me. And Padron Antoni said, no fish can live out of water, and for the man who was born a fish, the sea waits. On board the bark they chaffed Antoni because Sarah had jilted him. While they were furling the sails and the Carmella was rode slowly round and round, dragging the big net after her like a serpent's tail, swine's flesh and soldiers' faith lost but a little while. For that Sarah threw you over, they said to him. When the Turk turns Christian the woman keeps her word, said Uncle Kola. I have plenty of sweet-arts if I want them, replied Antoni, at Naples they ran after me. At Naples you had a cloth coat and a cap with a name on it, and shoes on your feet, said Barabbas. Are the girls at Naples as pretty as the ones here? The girls here are not fit to hold a candle to those in Naples. I had one with a silk dress and red ribbons in her hair, an embroidered corset and gold epaulets like the captain's, a fine handsome girl who brought her master's children out to walk and did nothing else. It must be a fine thing to live in those ports, observed Barabbas. You on the left there, stop rowing, called out Padron Antoni. Blood of Judas you'll send the bark onto the net, shouted Uncle Kola from the helm. Will you stop chattering? Are we here to scratch ourselves or to work? It's the tide drives us up, said Antoni. Draw in there you son of a pig, your head is so full of those queens of yours that you'll make us lose the whole day, shouted Barabbas. Sacrament replied Antoni with his oar in the air. If you say that again I'll bring it down on your head. What's all this? cried Uncle Kola from the helm. Did you learn when you were a soldier not to hear a word from anybody? I'll go, said Antoni. Go along then, with Padron Fortunato's money, he'll soon find another. Prudence is for the master, patience for the man, said Padron Antoni. Antoni continued to row, growling all the while, as he could not get up and walk away. And cousin Mangiacarube, to put an end to the quarrelling, said it was time for breakfast. At that moment the sun was just rising, and a draught of wine was pleasant in the cold air which began to blow. So the boys began to set their jaws at work, with flask between their knees, while the bark moved slowly about inside the ring of corks. A kick to whoever speaks first, said Uncle Kola. Not to be kicked, they all began to chew, like so many oxen, watching the waves that came rolling in from the open sea, and spreading out without foam. Those green billows that on a fair sunny day remind one of a black sky and a slate-colored sea. Padron Cipolla will be swearing roundly at us tonight, said Uncle Kola, but it is not our fault. In his fresh breeze there's no chance of fish. First, good man Mangiacarube let fly a kick at Uncle Kola, who had broken silence himself after declaring the forfeit, and then answered, Since we are here, we may as well leave the net out a while longer. The tide is coming from the open, that will help us, said Padron Antoni. Now that the silence was broken, Parabas asked Antoni Malavolia for a stump of a cigar. I haven't but won, said Antoni, without thinking of the recent quarrel, but I'll give you half of mine. The crew of the bark, leaning their backs against the bench, with hands behind their heads, hummed snatchers of songs under their breath, each on his own account, to keep himself awake, for it was very difficult not to doze in the blazing sun, and Parabas snapped his fingers at the fish which leaped flashing out of the water. They have nothing to do, said Antoni, and they amused themselves by jumping about. How good this cigar is, said Parabas, did you smoke these at Naples? Yes, plenty of them. All the same, the corks are beginning to sink, said good man Mangiacarube. Do you see where the Providenza went down with your father? said Parabas, to Antoni. There at the Cape where the sun glints on those white houses, and the sea seems as if it were made of gold. The sea assault, and the sailor sinks in the sea, replied Antoni. Parabas passed him his flask, and they began to mutter to each other under their breath against Uncle Collar, who was a regular dog for the crew of the bark, watching everything they said and did. They might as well have had Padron Chipola himself on board. And all to make him believe that the boat couldn't get on without him, added Parabas, an old spy. Now you'll go saying that it is he that has caught the fish by his cleverness in spite of the rough sea. Look how the nets are sinking, the corks are quite under water. You can't see them. Hello, boys, shouted Uncle Collar. We must draw in the net, or the tide will sweep it away. Oh, hi! Oh, hi! the crew began to vociferate as they passed the rope from hand to hand. St. Francis, cried Uncle Collar, who would have thought we should have taken all this precious load in spite of the tide. The nets shivered and glittered in the sun, and all the bottom of the boat seemed full of quick silver. Padron Fortunato will be contented now, said Parabas, red and sweaty, and won't throw in our faces those few centimes he pays us for the day. This is what we get, said Antoni, to break our backs for other people, and then, when we have put a few salty together, comes the devil and carries them off. What are you grumbling about? asked his grandfather. Doesn't Padron Fortunato pay your day's wages? The Malavolia were mad after money. La Longa took in weaving and washing. Padron Antoni and his grandsons went out by the day and helped each other as best they could, and when the old man was bent double with sciatica, he stayed in the court and mended nets and tackle of all kinds of which trade he was a master. Luca went to work at the bridge on the railroad for fifty centimes a day, though Antoni said that wasn't enough to pay for the shirts he spoiled by carrying loads on his back, but Luca didn't mind spoiling his shirts or his shoulders either, and Alessio went gathering cramps and muscles on the shore, and sold them for ten soothe a pound, and sometimes he went as far as on yinor, or the cape of the mills, and came back with his feet all bloody. But good man Zuppidu wanted a good sum every Saturday for mending the Providenza, and one wanted a good many nets to mend, and rolls of linen to weave and crabs at ten soothe the pound, and linen to bleach two with one's feet in the water, and the sun on one's head to make up two hundred francs. All souls was come, and Uncle Crucifix did nothing but promenade up and down the little street, with his hands behind his back like an old basilisk. This story will end with a bailiff, old Dumbbell went on, saying to Don Silvestro and to Don Giamaria the vicar. There will be no need of a bailiff, Uncle Crucifix said Padron and Tony, when he was told what old Dumbbell had been saying. The Malavoglia have always been honest people and have paid their debts without the aid of a bailiff. That does not matter to me, said Uncle Crucifix as he stood against the wall of his court, measuring the cuttings of his vines. I only know I want to be paid. Finally, through the interposition of the vicar, Dumbbell consented to wait until Christmas, taking for interest that sixty-five francs which Marutza had managed to scrape together, sue by sue, which she kept in an old stocking, hid under the mattress of her bed. This is the way it goes, growled Padron and Tony's and Tony. We work night and day for old Crucifix. When we have managed to rake and scrape a franc, we have to give it to old Dumbbell. Grandfather, with Marutza, consoled each other by building castles in the air for the summer, when there would be anchovies to be salted, and Indian figs at ten for eight centimes, and they made fine projects of going to the Tony fishing, and the fishing for the swordfish, when one gains a good sum by the day, and in the meantime cousin Bastion would have put the Providenza in order. The boys listened attentively with elbows on their knees to this discourse as they sat on the landing, or after supper, but Antoni, who had been in foreign ports and knew the world better than the others, was not amused by such talk, and preferred going to lounge about the tavern, where there was a lot of people who did nothing, and old Uncle Santoro, the worst of them, who had only that easy trade of begging to follow, and sat muttering Ave Maria's, or he went down to Master Zuppidu's to see how the Providenza was getting on, to have a little talk with Barbara, who came out with faggots for the fire, under the kettle of pitch, when cousin Antoni was there. You're always busy, cousin Barbara, said Antoni, you're the right hand of the house. It's for that your father doesn't want you to get married. I don't want to marry anybody who isn't my equal, and said Barbara, marry with your equals and stay with your own. I would willingly stay with your people, by our lady, if you were willing, cousin Barbara. Why do you talk to me in this way, cousin Antoni? Mama is spinning in the court, she will hear you. I meant that those faggots are wet and won't kindle, let me do it. Is it true you come down here to see the manjeca ruby, when she comes to the window? I come for quite another reason, cousin Barbara. I come to see how the Providenza is getting on. She is getting on very well, and papa says that by Christmas she will be ready for sea. As the Christmas season drew on, the Malavolia were always in and out of Master Bastiano Zoupidou's court. Meanwhile the whole place was assuming a festive appearance. In every house the images of the saints were adorned with bows and with oranges, and the children ran about in crowds after the pipers who came playing before the shrines, with the lamps before the doors. Only in the Malavolia's house the statue of the Good Shepherd stood dark and unadorned, while Padron Antoni's Antoni ran here and there like a rooster in the spring. And Barbara Zoupida said to him, at least you'll remember how I melted the pitch for the Providenza when you're out at sea. Goosefoot prophesied that all the girls would want to rob her of him. It's I who am robbed, whined Uncle Crucifix. Where am I to get the money for the lupins if Antoni marries, and they take off the dowry for men, and the mortgage that's on the house, and all the burdens besides that came out at the very last minute. Christmas is here, but no Malavolia. Padron Antoni went to him in the piazza, or in his own court, and said to him, what can I do if I have no money? Wait till June if you will do me that favour, or take the boat or the house. I have nothing else. I want my money, repeated Uncle Crucifix with his back against the wall. You said you were honest people. You can't pay me with talk about the Providenza, or the house by the meddler tree. He was ruining both body and soul, had lost sleep and appetite, and wasn't even allowed to relieve his feelings by saying that the end of this story would be the bailiff, because if he did Padron Antoni sent straightway Don Giamaria, or Don Silvestro, to beg for pity on him, and they didn't even leave him in peace in the piazza, where he couldn't go on his own business without someone was at his heels, so that the whole place cried out on the devil's money. With Gusfut he couldn't talk, because he always threw in his face that the Lupins were rotten, and that he had done the broker for him. But that service he could do me, said he suddenly to himself, and that night he did not sleep another wink, so charmed was he with the discovery, and he went off to Gusfut as soon as it was day, and found him yawning and stretching at his house door. You must pretend to buy my debt, he said to him, and then we can send the officers to Malavoglia, and nobody will call you a usurer, or say that yours is the devil's money. Did this fine idea come to you in the nights, near Gusfut, that you come waking me a dawn to tell it me? I came to tell you about those cuttings too, if you want them you may come and take them. Then you may send for the bailiff, said Gusfut, but you must pay the expenses. Before every house the shrines were adorned with leaves and oranges, and at evening the candles were lighted when the pipers played and sung litanies, so that it was a fester everywhere. The boys played at games with hazelnuts in the street, and if Alessio stopped with legs apart to look on, they said to him, go away you, you have many nuts to play with, now they're going to take away your house. In fact, on Christmas Eve the officer came in a carriage to the Malavoglias, so that the whole village was upset by it, and he went and left a paper with a stamp on it on the bureau beside the image of the good shepherd. The Malavoglias seemed as if they all had been struck by apoplexy at once, and stayed in the court, sitting in a ring doing nothing, and that day that the bailiff came there was no table set in the house of the Malavoglias. What shall we do? said La Longa. Padron and Tony did not know what to say, but at last he took the paper and went off with his two eldest grandsons to Uncle Crucifix to tell him to take the Providenza, which Master Bastiano had just finished mending, and the poor old man's voice trembled as it did when he lost his son Bazzionazzo. I know nothing about it, replied Dumbledore. I have no more to do with the business. I've sold my debt to Gusfoot, and you must manage it the best way you can with him. Gusfoot began to scratch his head as soon as he saw them coming in procession to speak to him. What do you want me to do? answered he. I'm a poor devil. I need the money, and I can't do anything with the boat. That isn't my trade. But if Uncle Crucifix will buy it, I'll help you to sell it. I'll be back directly. So the poor fellows sat on the wall waiting and casting long englances down the road, where old Gusfoot had disappeared, not daring to look each other in the face. At last he came limping slowly along. He got on fast enough when he liked in spite of his crooked leg. He says it's all broken like an old shoe. He wouldn't hear of taking it. He called out from a distance. I'm sorry, but I could do nothing. So the Malavolia went off home again with their stamped paper. But something had to be done. For that piece of stamped paper lying on the bureau had power, they had been told, to devour the bureau and the house and the whole family into the bargain. Here we need advice from Don Silvestro, suggested Marutza. Take these two hands to him, and he'll be sure to know of something you can do. Don Silvestro said there was no time to be lost, and he sent them to a clever lawyer, Dr Scipioni, who lived in the street of the sick man opposite Uncle Crispino's table, and was young, but from what he had been told had brains enough to put in his pocket all the old fellows who asked five Scroody for opening their mouths, while he was contented with twenty-five lira. The lawyer was rolling cigarettes, and he made them come and go two or three times before he would let them come in. The finest thing about it was that they all went in procession, one behind the other. At first they were accompanied by La Longa, with her baby in her arms, as she wished to give her opinion to on the subject, and so they lost a whole day's work. When, however, the lawyer had read the papers and could manage to understand something of the confused answers which he had to tear as if with pincers from Padron and Tony, while the others sat perched up on their chairs without daring even to breathe, he began to laugh heartily, and the malevolia laughed too with him, without knowing why, just to get their breath. Nothing, replied the lawyer, you need do nothing. And when Padron and Tony told him again that the bailiff had come to the house, let the bailiff come every day if he likes, so the creditors will the sooner tire of the expense of sending him. They can take nothing from you because the house is settled on your son's wife, and for the boat we'll make a claim on the part of Master Bastiaan Nozupidu. Your daughter-in-law did not take part in the purchase of the lupins. The lawyer went on talking without drawing breath, without scratching his head even for more than twenty-five lira, so that Padron and Tony, and his grandson felt a great longing to talk too, to bring out that fine defense of theirs of which their heads were full. And they went away stunned, overpowered by all these wonderful things ruminating and gesticulating over the lawyer's speech all the way home. Marutza, who hadn't been with them that time, seeing them come with bright eyes and rosy faces, felt herself relieved of a great weight, and with a serene aspect waited to hear what the advocate had said. But no one said a word, and they all stood looking at each other. Well, asked Marutza, who was dying of impatience, nothing. We need fear nothing, replied Padron and Tony, tranquilly. And the advocate? Yes, the advocate says we need fear nothing. But what did he say? persisted Marutza. Ah, he knows how to talk, a man with whiskers, blessed be those twenty-five lira. But what did he tell you to do? The grandfather looked at the grandson, and Antoni looked back at his grandfather. Nothing, answered Padron and Tony, he told us to do nothing. We won't pay anything, cried Antoni boldly, because they can't take either the house or the Providenza. We don't owe them anything. And the Lupins? The Lupins, we didn't need them, is Lupins. We haven't got them in our pockets, and Uncle Crucifix can take nothing from us. The advocate said so, said he was spending money for nothing. There was a moment's silence, but Marutza was still unconvinced. So he told you not to pay? Antoni scratched his head, and his grandfather added, It's true, the Lupins, we had them, we must pay for them. There was nothing to be said, now that the lawyer was no longer there, they must pay. Padron and Tony shook his head muttering. Not that, not that, the Malavolia have never done that. Uncle Crucifix may take the house and the boat and everything, but we can't do that. The poor old man was confused, but his daughter-in-law cried silently behind her apron. Then we must go to Don Silvestro, concluded Padron and Tony. And with one accord, grandfather, grandchildren and daughter-in-law, with the little girl, proceeded once more in procession to the house of the communal secretary, to ask him how they were to manage about paying the debt, and preventing Uncle Crucifix from sending any more stamped paper to eat up the house and the boat and the family. Don Silvestro, who understood law, was amusing himself by constructing a trap-cage intended as a present for the children of her ladyship. He did not do as the lawyer did, he let them talk and talk, continuing silently to sharpen his reeds and fasten them into their places. At last he told them what was necessary. Well now, if Madame Marutza is willing to put her hand to it, everything may be arranged. The poor woman could not guess where she was to put her hand. You must put it into the sail, said Don Silvestro to her, and give up your total mortgage, although you did not buy the lupins. We all bought the lupins together, murmured the poor longer, and the Lord has punished us all together by taking away my husband. The poor ignorant creatures, motionless on their chairs, looked at each other, and Don Silvestro laughed to himself. Then he sent for Uncle Crucifix, who came gnawing a dried chestnut, having just finished his dinner, and his eyes were even more glassy than usual. From the very first he would listen to nothing, declaring that he had nothing to do with it, that it was no longer his affair. I am like the low wall that everybody sits and leans on as much as he pleases, because I can't talk like an advocate and give all my reasons properly. My property is treated as if I had stolen it. And so he went on grumbling and muttering with his back against the wall, and his hands thrust into his pockets, and nobody could understand a word he said on account of the chestnut which he had in his mouth. Don Silvestro spoiled the shirt by sweating over the attempt to make him understand how the Malavolia were not to be called cheats if they were willing to pay the debt, and if the widow gave up her total rights. The Malavolia would be willing to give up everything but their shirts sooner than go to law, but if they were driven to the wall, they might begin to send stamped paper as well as other people. Such things have happened before now. In short, a little charity one must have by the Holy Devil, what will you bet, that if you go on planting your feet like a mule in this, you don't lose the whole thing? And Uncle Crucifix replied, if you take me on that side, I haven't any more to say. And he promised to speak to old Goosefoot. For friendship's sake, I would make any sacrifice. Padron and Tony could speak for him, how for friendship's sake he had done as much as that and more, and he offered him his open snuff-box and stroked the baby's cheek, and gave her a chestnut. Don Silvestro knows my weakness, I don't know how to say no. This evening I'll speak to Goosefoot and tell him to wait until Easter, if cousin Marutza will put her hand to it. Cousin Marutza did not know where her hand was to be put, but said that she was ready to put it immediately. Then you can send for those beans that you said you wanted to sow, said Uncle Crucifix to Don Silvestro before he went away. All right, all right, replied Don Silvestro, we all know that for your friends you have a heart as big as the sea. Goosefoot, while any one was by, wouldn't hear of any delay, and screamed and tore his hair and swore they wanted to reduce him to his last shirt and to leave him without bread for the winter, him and his wife Grace, since they had persuaded him to buy the dead of the Malavoglia, and that those were five hundred lira, one better than another, that they had coaxed him out of to give them to Uncle Crucifix. His wife Grace, poor thing, opened her eyes very wide, because she couldn't tell where all that money had come from, and put in a good word for the Malavoglia, who were all good people, and everybody in the vicinity had always known they were honest. And Uncle Crucifix himself now began to take the part of the Malavoglia. They have said they will pay, and if they don't, they will let you have the house. Madam Marutza will put a hand to it. Don't you know that in these days if you want your own, you must do the best you can? Then Goosefoot put on his jacket in a great hurry, and went off swearing and blaspheming, saying that his wife and Old Crucifix might do as they pleased, since he was no longer master in his own house. End of chapter 6 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 7 Of the House by the Medlar Tree by Giovanni Verga Translated by Mary A. Craig This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham That was a black Christmas for the Malavoglia. Just then Luca had to draw his number for the conscription, a low number too like a poor devil as he was, and he went off without many tears. They were used to it by this time. This time also, Antoni accompanied his brother with his cap over his ear, so that it seemed as if it were he who was going away, that he kept on saying that it was nothing that he had been for a soldier himself. That day it rained, and the street was all one puddle. I don't want you to come with me, repeated Luca to his mother. The station is a long way off. And he stood at the door, watching the rain come down on the medlar tree with his little bundle under his arm. Then he kissed the hands of his mother, and his grandfather, and embraced men and the children. So la longa saw him go away under the umbrella, accompanied by all his relations, jumping from stone to stone in the little alley that was all one puddle. And the boy, who was as wise as his grandfather himself, turned up his trousers on the landing, although he wouldn't have to wear them any more when he got his soldier clothes. This one won't write home for money when he is down there, thought the old man, and if God grants him life, he will bring up once more the house by the medlar tree. But God did not grant him life just because he was that sort of a fellow, and when there came later on the news of his death, a thorn remained in his mother's heart because she had let him go away in the rain, and had not accompanied him to the station. Mama said Luca turning back because his heart bled to leave her so silent on the landing, looking like our Lady of Sorrows. When I come back, I'll let you know first, and then you can come and meet me at the station, and these words Maruzza never forgot while she lived. And till her death she bore also that other thorn in her heart, that her boy had not been present at the festa that was made when the Providenza was launched anew, while all the place was there, and Barbara Zuppida came out with the broom to sweep away the shavings. I do it for your sake, she said to Pararon, and Tony's and Tony, because it is your Providence. With the broom in your hand you look like a queen, replied and Tony, in all threats are there is not so good a housewife as you. Now you have taken away the Providenza, we shall not see you here any more, cousin Tony. Yes, you will. Besides, this is the shortest way to the beach. You come to see the Mangia Carubi, who always goes to the window when you pass. I'll leave the Mangia Carubi for Rocco Spattu, I have other things in my mind. Who knows what you have in your mind, those pretty girls in foreign parts perhaps. There are pretty girls here too, cousin Barbara, and I know one very well. Really? By my soul. What do you care? I care, yes that I do, but she doesn't care for me, because there are certain dandies who walk under her window with varnished boots. I don't even look at those varnished boots, by the Madonna of Ognino. Mama says that varnished boots are only fit to devour the dowry and everything else, and some fine day I shall go out with my distaff, and make him a scene, and make him a scene, that Don Silvestro, who won't leave me in peace. Do you mean that seriously, cousin Barbara? Yes, indeed I do. That pleases me right well, said in Tony. Listen, let's go down to the beach on Monday, when Mama goes to the fair. On Mondays I never shall have a chance to breathe, now that the Providenza has been launched. Scarcely had Master Turi said that the boat was in order, than Padron and Tony went off to start her, with his boys and all the neighbours, and the Providenza, when she was going down to the sea, rocked about on the stones, as if she were seasick among the crowd. This way here, called out cousin Zupidu, louder than anybody, but the other shouted and struggled to push her back on the ways, as she rocked over on the stones. Let me do it, or else I'll just take the boat up in my arms like a baby, and put her in the water myself. Master Turi is capable of doing it with those arms of his, said someone, or else now the Malavoglia will be all right again. That devil of a cousin Zupidu has lucky fingers, they exclaimed. Look how he has put her straight again, when she was like an old shoe! And in truth the Providenza did seem quite another boat, shining with new pitch, and with a bright red line along her side, and on the prow San Francesco, with his beard that seemed to have been made of tow, so much so, that even La Longa had made peace with the Providenza, whom she had never forgiven for coming back to her without her husband. But she made peace for fright, now that the bailiff had been in the house. Viva San Francesco! called out everyone as the Providenza passed, and La Longa, son, called out louder than anybody, in the hope that now Padron and Tony would hire him by the day, instead of his brother Menico. Mena stood on the landing, and once more she cried for joy, and at last even La Longa got up like the rest, and followed the Malavoglia. Oh, cousin Mena, this is a fine day for all of you, said Alfio Mosca, to her from his window opposite. It will be like this, when I can buy my mule. And will you sell your donkey? How can I? I'm not rich, like Vani Pizzotti. If I were, I swear I wouldn't sell him, poor beast. If I had enough to keep another person, I'd take a wife, and not live here alone like a dog. Mena didn't know what to say, and Alfio added, now that the Providenza has put to sea again, you'll be married to Brasic Cipolla. Grand-papa has said nothing about it. He will. There's still time. Between now and your marriage, who knows how many things may happen? Oh, by what different roads I shall drive my cart. I have been told that in the plain at the other side of the town, there is work for everybody on the railroad. Now that Santuzza has arranged with Master Philip for the new wine, there is nothing to be done here. Meanwhile the Providenza had slipped into the sea, like a duck with her beak in the air, and danced on the green water, enjoying its coolness, while the sun glanced on her shining side. Padrante and Tony enjoyed it too, with his hands behind his back, and his legs apart, drawing his brows together, as sailors do when they want to see clearly in the sunshine. For it was a fine winter's day, and the fields were green, and the sea shining, and the deep blue sky had no end. So returned the sunshine and the sweet winter mornings for the eyes that have wept, to whom the sky has seemed black as pitch, and so all things renew themselves, like the Providenza, for which a few pounds of tar and a handful of boards suffice to make her new once more, and the eyes that see not these things, or those that are done with weeping, and are closed in death. Bastionazzo is not here to see this holiday, thought Marutza as she went to and fro, arranging things in the house and about the loom, where almost everything had been her husband's work on Sundays or rainy days, and those hooks and shelves he had fixed in the wall with his own hands. Everything in the house was full of him, from his waterproof cape in the corner to his boots under the bed, that were almost new. Menna, setting up the warp, had a sad heart, too, for she was thinking of Alfio, who was going away and would have sold his donkey-poor beast. For the young have short memories, and have only eyes for the rising sun, and no one looks westward save the old, who have seen the sun rise and set so many times. Now that the Providenza has put to see again, said Marutza at last, noticing that her daughter was still pensive, your grandfather has begun to go with Master Cipolla again. I saw them this morning from the landing before Pepinaso's shed. Padron Fortunato is rich, and has nothing to do, and stays all day in the piazza, answered Menna. Yes, and his son Brasi has plenty of the gifts of God. Now that we have our boat, and our men no longer need to go out by the day to work for others, we shall get out of this tangle. And if the souls in Purgatory will help us to get rid of the debt for the Lupins, we shall be able to think of other things. Your grandfather is wide awake, don't you fear, and he won't let you feel that you have lost your father. He will be another father to you. Shortly after arrived Padron Fortunato loaded with nets, so that he looked like a mountain, and you couldn't see his face. I've been to get them out of the bark, he said, and I must look over the meshes, for tomorrow we must rig the Providenza. Why did you not get Fortunato to help you? Answered Marutza, pulling at one end of the net, while the old man turned round in the middle of the court, like a winder to unwind the nets, which seemed to have no end, and looked like a great serpent trailing along. I left him there at the barbershop. Poor boy, he has had to work all the week, and it is hot even in January with all this stuff on one's shoulders. Alessio laughed to see his grandfather so red, and bent round like a fish-hook, and the grand sire said to him, Look outside there, there is that poor locker. Her son is in the piazza with nothing to do, and they have nothing to eat. Marutza sent Alessio to the locker with some beans, and the old man drying his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt added, Now that we have our boat, if we live till summer with the help of God, we'll pay the debt. He had no more to say. But sat under the medlar tree, looking at his nets, as if he saw them filled with fish. Now we must lay in the salt, he said after a while, before they raised the tax, if it is true it is to be raised. Cousin Zoupidou must be paid with the first money we get, and he has promised that he will then furnish the barrels on credit. In the chest of drawers there is men as linen, which is worth five scuddy, added Marutza. Bravo! With old crucifix I won't make any more debts, because I have had a warning in the affair of the Lupins, but he will give us thirty francs for the first time we go out with the Providenza. Let him alone, cried Lalonga, Uncle Crucifix's money brings ill luck. Just this last night I heard the black hen crowing. Poor thing! cried the old man, smiling as he watched the black hen crossing the court, with her tail in the air, and her crest on one side, as if the whole affair were no business of hers. She lays an egg every day all the same. Then Menna spoke up, and coming to the door said, There is a basket full of eggs, and on Monday, if Cousin Alfio goes to Catania, you can send them to market. Yes, they will help to pay the debt, said Padron and Tony, but you can eat an egg yourselves now and then, if you feel to want it. No, we don't need them, said Marutza, and Menna added. If we eat them, they won't be sold in the market by Cousin Alfio, and now we will put duck's eggs under the setting hen. The ducklings can be sold for forty centimes each. Her grandfather looked her in the face and said, You're a real malavolia, my girl. The hen scratched in the sound of the court, in the sun. And the setting hen, looking perfectly silly, with her feather over her beak, shook herself in a corner under the green boughs in the garden. Along the wall there was more linen bleaching, with a stone lying on it to keep it from blowing away. All this is good to make money, said Padron and Tony, and with the help of God, we shall stay in our house. My house is my mother. Now the malavolia must pray to God and St. Francis for a plentiful fishing, said Goosefoot, meanwhile. Yes, with the times we're having, exclaimed Padron Cipolla, they must have sown the cholera for the fish in the sea, I should think. Manja Karubi nodded, and Uncle Cola began to talk of the tacks they wanted to put on salt, and how if they did that, the anchovies might be quiet and fear no longer the wheels of the steamers, for no one would find it worth his while to fish for them any more. And they have invented something else, added Master Turi the Corker, to put a duty on pitch. Those to whom pitch was of no importance had nothing to say, but Zoupidou went on shouting that he should shut up shop, and whoever wanted a bolt mended might stuff the hole with his wife's dress. Then they began to scold and to swear. At this moment was heard the scream of the engine, and the big wagons of the railway came rushing out all of a sudden, from the hole they had made in the hill, smoking and fuming as if the devil was in them. There cried Padron Fortunato, the railroad one side and the steamers the other, upon my word it's impossible to live in peace at Trezza nowadays. In the village there was the devil to pay when they wanted to put the tacks upon pitch. This was the dazio, like the French octois, a tax on substances entering a town levied by the town council. La Zoupida, foaming at the mouth, mounted upon her balcony, and went on preaching that this was some new villainy of Don Silvestro, who wanted to bring the whole place to ruin, because they, the Zoupidous, wouldn't have him for a husband for their daughter, they wouldn't have him even for a companion in the procession, neither she nor her girl. When Madame Venera spoke of her daughter's husband, it always seemed as if she herself were the bride. Master Touri Zoupidou tramped about the landing, mallet in hand, brandishing his chisel as if he wanted to shed somebody's blood, and wasn't to be held even by chains. The bile ran high from door to door, like the waves of the sea in a storm. Don Franco rubbed his hands with his great ugly heart on his head, saying that the people was raising its head, and seeing Don Michele pass, with pistols hanging at his belt, laughed in his face. The men, too, one by one, allowed themselves to be worked up by their womankind, and began hunting each other up, to try and rouse each other to fury, losing the whole day, standing about in the piazza, with arms akimbo, and open mouths, listening to the apothecary, who went on speechifying, but under his breath, for fear of his wife upstairs, how they ought to make a revolution if they weren't fools, and not to mind the tax on salt, or the tax on pitch, but to clear off the whole thing for the king ought to be the people. Instead some turned their backs muttering. He wants to be king himself. The druggist belongs to those of the revolution who want to starve the poor people, and they went off to the inn, to Santuza, where there was good wine to heat one's head, and Master Chingelenta and the Rocco Spatu made noise enough for ten. The good wine made them shout, and shouting made them thirsty, for the tax had not yet been raised on the wine, and such as had much shook their fists in the air, with shirt sleeves rolled up, raging even at the flies. Vani Pizzotti had closed his shop door because no one came to be shaved, and went about with his razor in his pocket calling out bad names from a distance, and spitting at those who went about their own business with oars on their backs, shrugging their shoulders at the noise. Uncle Crucifix, who was one of those who attended to their own affairs, and when they drew his blood with taxas, held his tongue for fear of worse, and kept his bile inside of him, was never seen in the piazza now, leaning against the wall of the bell tower, but kept inside his house, reciting patanostas and ave marias, to keep down his rage against those who were making all the row. A lot of fellows who wanted to put the place to sack, and to rob everybody who had twenty sendeems in his pocket. Whoever, like Padron Cipolla, or Master Filippo, the Ottolano, had anything to lose, stayed shut up at home with doors bolted, and didn't put out even their noses, so that Brasi Cipolla got a rousing cuff from his father, who found him at the door of the court, staring into the piazza like a great stupid codfish. The big fish stayed under water while the waves ran high, and did not make their appearance, not even those who were, as venera said, fishheads, but left the syndic with his nose in the air, counting his papers. Don't you see that they treat you like a puppet? screamed his daughter better, with her hands on her hips. Now that they have got you into a scrape, they turn their backs on you, and leave you alone wallowing in the mud. That's what it means to let oneself be led by the nose, by that meddling Don Silvestro. I'm not led by the nose by anybody, shouted the silk worm. It is I who am syndic, not Don Silvestro. Don Silvestro, on the contrary, said the real syndic was his daughter better, and that Master Croce Calta wore the breeches by mistake. He still went out at about with that red face of his, and Rocco Spattu, and Chingallenta, when they saw him went into the tavern for fear of a mess, and Vanny Pizzotti swore loudly, tapping his razor in his breeches' pocket all the time. Don Silvestro, without noticing them, went to say a word or two to Uncle Santoro, and put two centimes into his hand. The Lord be praised! cried the blind man. This is Don Silvestro, the secretary. None of these others that come here roaring and thumping their stomachs ever give a centime in arms for the souls in purgatory, and they go saying they mean to kill your syndic and the secretary. Vanny Pizzotti said it, and Rocco Spattu and Master Chingallenta. Vanny Pizzotti has taken to going without shoes not to be known, but I know his step all the same, for he drags his feet along the ground and raises the dust like a flock of sheep passing by. What is it to you? cried his daughter when Don Silvestro was gone. These affairs are no business of ours. The inn is like a seaport, men come and go, and one must be friendly with all and faithful to none, for that each one has his own soul for himself. Each must look out for his own interests, and not make rash speeches about other people, Cousin Chingallenta and Rocco Spattu spent money in our house. I don't speak of Pizzotti who sells abseth and tries to get away our customers. Cousin Mosca was among those who minded their own business, and passed tranquilly through the piazza with his cart amid the crowd who were shaking their fists in the air. Don't you care whether they put on the high tax? asked Mena when she saw him come back with his poor donkey panting and with drooped ears. Yes, of course I care, but to pay the tax the cart must go, or they'll take away the ass and the cart as well. They say they're going to kill them all. Grand Papa told us to keep the door shut and not to open it unless they come back. Will you go out tomorrow too? I must go and take a load of lime for Master Croce Calta. Oh, what are you going to do? Don't you know he's the syndic and they'll kill you too? He doesn't care for them, he says he's a mason, and he has to strengthen the wall of Don Filippo's vineyard, and if they won't have the tax on pitch, Don Silvestro must think of something else. Didn't I tell you it was all Don Silvestro's fault? cried Mammy Vennera, who was always about, blowing up the fires of discord with her distaff in her hand. It's all the affair of that lot who have nothing to lose and who don't pay a tax on pitch because they never had so much as an old broken board at sea. It is all the fault of Don Silvestro. She went on screeching to everybody all over the place and of that meddling scamp goosefoot who have no boat either of them and live on their neighbours and hold out the hat to first one and then another. Would you like to know one of his tricks? It isn't a bit true that he has bought the debt of Uncle Crucifix, it's all a lie. Got up between him and old Dumbbell to rob those poor creatures, goosefoot never even saw five hundred francs. Don Silvestro, to hear what they said of him, went often to the tavern to buy a cigar, and then Rocco Spattu and Vanny Pizzotti would come out of it blaspheming, or he would stop on the way home from his vineyard to talk with Uncle Santoro, had heard in this way all the tale of the fictitious purchase by goosefoot, but he was a Christian with a stomach as deep as a well, and all things he left to sink into it. He knew his own business, and when better met him with his mouth open, worse than a mad dog, and Master Croci Calta let slip his usual expression that it didn't matter to him, he replied, What'll you bet I don't just go off and leave you? And went no more to the syndic's house, but on the Sunday appointed for the meeting of the council, Don Silvestro, after the mass, went and planted himself in the town hall, where there had formally been the post of the National Guard, and began tranquilly mending his pens in front of the rough pint table to pass away the time, while Lazupida and the other gossips vociferated in the street, while spinning in the sun, swearing that they would tear out the eyes of the whole lot of them. Silkworm, as they had come all the way to Master Filippo's vineyard to call him, couldn't do less than move. So he put on his new overcoat, washed his hands, and brushed the lime off his clothes, but wouldn't go to the meeting, without first calling for Don Silvestro to come to him. It was in vain that his daughter better took him by the shoulders, and pushed him out of the door, saying to him that they who had cooked the broth, ought to eat it, and that he ought to let the others do as they liked, that he might remain syndic. This time Master Calta had seen the crowd before the town hall, distaffed in hand, and he planted his feet on the ground worse than a mule. I won't go unless Don Silvestro comes, he repeated, with eyes starting out of his head. Don Silvestro will find some way out of it all. At last Don Silvestro came, with a face like a wall, humming an air with his hands behind his back. Hey, Master Croce, don't lose your head! The world isn't going to come to an end this time. Master Croce, let himself be led away by Don Silvestro, and placed before the pine council table, with a glass ink stand in front of him. But there was no council, except Pepinaso the Butcher, all greasy and red-faced, who feared nobody in the world, and Messatino Piedipacera, Gusfut. They have nothing to lose, screamed Lazupida from the door, and they come here to suck the blood of the poor worse than so many leeches, because they live upon their neighbors and hold the sack for this one and that one to commit all sorts of villainies, a lot of thieves and assassins. See if I don't slit your tongue for you, shouted Gusfut, beginning to rise from behind the pine wood table. Now we shall come to grief, muttered Master Croce Jufa. I say, I say, what sort of manners are these? You're not in the piazza, called out Don Silvestro. What will you bet? I don't kick out the whole of you. Now I shall put this to rights. Lazupida screamed that she wouldn't have it put to rights, and struggled with Don Silvestro, who pulled her by the hair, and at last ended by thrusting her inside her own gate. When they were at last alone, he began, What is it you want? What is it to you, if we put a tax on pitch? It isn't you or your husband that will have to pay it, but those who will come to have their boats mended. Listen to me, your husband is an ass to make all this row, and to quarrel with the town council. Now when there is another council to be chosen in the room of Padron Chipola or Master Mariano, who are of no use, and your husband might come in. I know nothing about it, answered Lazupida, becoming quite calm in an instant. I never mix myself up in my husband's affairs. I know he's biting his hands with rage. I can do nothing but go and tell him if the thing is certain. Certain? Of course it is. Certain as the heavens above, I tell you. Are we honest men or not, by the holy big devil? Lazupida went straight off to her husband, who was crouching in the corner of the court, carding toe, pale as a corpse, swearing that they'd end by driving him to do something mad. To open the sanhedrim and try if the fish would bite, there was still wanting Padron Fortunato Chipola and Master Filippo, the market gardener, who stayed away so long that the crowd began to get bored, so much so that the gossips began to spin, sitting on the low wall of the town hall yard. At last they sent word that they couldn't come. They had too much to do. The tax might be levied just as well without them. Word for word what my daughter better said, crowdmaster Croci Jufa. Then let your daughter better to help you, exclaimed Don Silvestro. Silkworm said not another word audibly, but continued to mutter between his teeth. Now, said Don Silvestro, you'll see that the zoopidi will come and ask me to take their daughter Barbara, but they'll have to go on asking. The meeting was closed without deciding upon anything. The clerk wanted time to get up his subject. In the meanwhile the clock struck 12 and the gossips quickly disappeared. The few that stayed long enough to see Master Cirino shut the door and put the key in his pocket, went away to their own work, some this way, some that, talking, as they went, of the dreadful things that Gusfut and the zoopidi had been saying. In the evening Padron and Tony's and Tony heard of this bad language, and sacrament, if he wouldn't show Gusfut that he had been for a soldier. He met him just as he was coming from the beach near the house of the zoopidi with that devil's clubfoot of his, and began to speak his mind to him, that he was a foul-mouthed old carrion, and that he had better take care what he said of the zoopidi, that their doings was no affair of his. Gusfut didn't keep his tongue to himself, either. Hello, do you think you've come from foreign parts to play the Master here? I've come to slit your weasened for you if you don't hold your tongue. Hearing the noise, a crowd of people came to the doors, and a great crowd gathered, so that at last they took hold of each other, and Gusfut, who was as sharp as the devil he resembled, flung himself on the ground, all in a heap, with Antoni Malavoglia, who thus lost all the advantage which his good legs might have given him, and they rolled over and over in the mud, beating and biting each other as if they had been pepinasso's dogs, so that Antoni had to be pulled into the zoopidi's court with his shirt torn off his back, and Gusfut was led home bleeding, like Lazarus. You'll see, screamed out again gossip venera after she had slammed the door in the faces of her neighbours, you'll see whether I mean to be a mistress in my own house, I'll give my girl to whomsoever I please. The girl ran off into the house, read as a turkey, with her heart beating as fast as a spring chicken's. He's almost pulled off your ear, said Master Bastiano as he poured water slowly over Antoni's head, bites worse than a dog does on Coutino. Antoni's eyes were still full of blood, and he was set upon vengeance. Listen, Madame Venera, he said, in the hearing of all the world, if your daughter doesn't take me, I'll never marry anybody. And the girl heard him in her chamber. This is no time to speak of such things, Cousin Antoni, but if your grandfather has no objection, I wouldn't change you, for my part, for Victor Emmanuel himself. Master Zuppidou, meanwhile, said not a word, but handed Antoni a towel to dry himself with, so that Antoni went home that night, in a high state of contentment. But the poor Malavolia, when they heard of the fight with Gusfut, trembled to think how they might, at any moment, expect the officer to turn them out of doors, for Gusfut lived close by, and of the money for the debt they had only, after endless trouble, succeeded in putting together about half. Look what it means to be always hanging about where there's a marriageable girl, said La Longa to Antoni, I'm sorry for Barbara, and I mean to marry her, said Antoni. To marry her? cried the grandfather. And who am I? And does your mother count for nothing? When your father married her that sits there, he made them come and tell me first. Your grandmother was then alive, and they came and spoke to us in the garden, under the fig tree. Now these things are no longer the custom, and the old people are of no use. At one time it was said, listen to the old and you'll make no blunders. First your sister Mena must be married. Do you know that? Cursed is my fate, cried Antoni, stamping and tearing his hair, working all day, never going to the tavern, never a soldo in one's pocket, now that I've found a girl to suit me, I can't have her. Why did I come back from the army? Listen, cried old Antoni, rising slowly and painfully in consequence of the racking pain in his back. Go to bed and to sleep. That's the best thing for you to do. You should never speak in that way in your mother's presence. My brother Luca that's gone for a soldier is better off than I am. Growled and Tony, as he went off to bed.