Castellinaria, and Other Sicilian Diversions Part 4

"It is good till you shall drink the three gla.s.ses of Noah. Did you know what is the gla.s.s of Noah? All right, I shall tell you."

Then he told me about Noah and the Devil.

The patriarch Noah was working in his field one day when the Devil came along, put his arms on top of the gate, and looking over, said in a friendly way:

"Good morning, Mr. Noah."

"Good morning, Mr. Devil," replied Noah. "And what can I do for you?"

"Do not let me interrupt; you seem busy this morning."

"Yes," replied Noah; "I am planting the vine."

"Oho!" said the Devil, "but this is rather interesting."

So he slipped inside the field and took a seat on a large white stone.

Noah went on with his work.

A lion was prowling round and came through the gate which the Devil had carelessly left open. The Devil killed the lion and watered the vine with its blood.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," said Noah testily.

The Devil paid no attention. A monkey dropped down from a tree and came skipping up to them to see what was going on. The Devil killed the monkey and watered the vine with its blood.

"Can't you leave the poor beasts alone?" said Noah, who had always deprecated cruelty to animals, and was beginning to lose his temper.

The Devil paid no attention. A pig was wallowing in the mud close by--there had been a good deal of rain lately. The Devil killed the pig and watered the vine with its blood.

This was too much for Noah. He shouted: "Haven't you got any work of your own to do, you lazy devil?" He was so angry he forgot to say "Mr."

"You had better go home; your dinner will be getting cold."

"'Hot' you mean," replied the Devil, looking for his hat, which had fallen behind the large white stone. "What an ungrateful husbandman you are! I have been helping you to make your wine. When you have drunk the first gla.s.s, you will feel strong and behave furiously. When you have drunk the second gla.s.s, you will forget how to think for yourself, you will imitate other people and behave foolishly. When you have drunk the third gla.s.s--Need I continue? I think not. Good morning."

Whereupon the Devil put his hands into his pockets, tucked his tail up under his left arm and swaggered away, thinking of his next job and whistling "La Donna e Mobile."

"And the gla.s.s of Noah," said Peppino in conclusion, "was containing one bottle. Did you understand? All right; I give you a medal."

"I hope it will be a real medal and not like the idea of the girl."

"We shall see. Please take to drink the milk of Ricuzzu."

The baby had had one bottle of milk, but there was another ready for him.

I said:

"My dear Peppino, I could not eat or drink another mouthful of anything.

I could not even eat a slice of Ricuzzu himself; besides, I don't believe Carmelo knows how to cook babies--not so as to make them really tasty."

Brancaccia understood enough to know we were talking about Ricuzzu. She left off clearing away, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the baby out of Carmelo's arms, whispering to me: "I know it is all right, but I shall feel safer if I have him."

Peppino, who was lying on his back, observed her agitation out of the corner of his eye and said to me, maliciously speaking Italian so that she should understand:

"If you would like to eat the baby, please say whether Carmelo shall boil him or cut him up and stew him alla cacciatora."

"Thank you, no. I prefer Ricuzzu alive."

"You are a bad papa," said Brancaccia, "and the compare is a good man."

So she gave me the baby as a reward and slapped her husband's cheek as a punishment. Peppino naturally retaliated, and in a moment they were rolling over and over and bear-fighting like a couple of kittens at play, while Carmelo and I sat and laughed at them, and the baby crowed and clapped his hands and grew so excited I could scarcely hold him.

There came a pause and Peppino said: "My dear, if you will leave off boxing my ears I will tell you a secret."

Brancaccia instantly desisted and went and sat apart to recover herself.

Peppino continued: "I knew the compare would refuse to eat the baby. He does not like our Sicilian dishes. Every time he comes to see us it is a penitenza for him, because he cannot eat food grown in our island. But I know what I shall do. I shall send a telegram to London: 'English gentleman starving in Castellinaria. Please send at once one chop, one bottle of stout.'

"Look here," he continued, suddenly sitting up and becoming serious. "It is the clime. Here is the country not adapted to the beast, few rain, few gra.s.s, few beefs, few muttons, and all too thin and the land is good only for the goats and we must be eating such things that are doing bad to the stomaco--the little chickens and the poor fishes and the pasta--not other. In England shall be falling always the rain and plenty gra.s.s shall be growing and the beefs and the muttons shall be fat and much nourishment shall come to those who are eating them."

I said that if I could have chops and stout instead of the few odds and ends which Carmelo had managed to sc.r.a.pe together for our ridiculously inadequate luncheon, of course I should stay at Castellinaria and never go home any more.

So that was settled for the time, and Brancaccia, having put herself tidy, proposed a visit to the grottoes. Carmelo packed up his kitchen and took it off to the cart. On the way he met his cousin, borrowed his boat and came rowing in it--for Carmelo is also a fisherman. We got in and rowed round the promontory and into the caves. The baby was a good deal puzzled, he thought he was indoors, and yet it wasn't right, but he was pleased. When we were tired of the grottoes we rowed back, restored the boat to Carmelo's cousin, packed ourselves into the cart and Guido Santo took us up the zig-zags to Castellinaria after a day which we all enjoyed very much; Ricuzzu, who understood least, perhaps enjoyed it most, but then this baby enjoys everything. If we could have remanded his festa for a few years, instead of only a few days or weeks or whatever it was, he might have understood more and enjoyed less.

Ricuzzu did not come to the theatre, he was supposed to be tired, so Brancaccia put him to bed and, leaving him with Carmelo, accompanied Peppino and me to see _Il Diavolo Verde_. We took our seats while the fiancee of Don Giuseppe, a.s.sisted by her lady's-maid, was endeavouring to make up her mind. The difficulty was that Don Giovanni, the brother of Giuseppe, had sent her a case of jewels and, like Margherita, in _Faust_, she could not resist the temptation to try them on in front of a looking-gla.s.s. We saw in the gla.s.s the reflection of a devil in green with pink tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs. He appeared to be standing behind her, looking over her shoulder, but he was not really present; it must have been a magic mirror. Don Giovanni came and denounced his brother who, he said, was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d and no gentleman, proving his words by the production of their father's will written on a sheet of brown paper which he always carried in his belt. This convinced the lady, and she went off with Giovanni.

Don Giuseppe, who had been carried away by armed men, escaped and returned to meditate on the crisis of his life. Remembering that the green devil was a retainer of his family, he summoned him and laid the case before him. This time the devil really came and told Giuseppe that there was a way out of his trouble, but that it would involve (1) the perdition of two souls, (2) the shedding of blood, (3) sacrilege, (4) perjury, and (5) all his courage. Don Giuseppe agreed and the curtain fell.

The next act was in the cemetery in front of the tomb of the father of the two brothers. Don Giuseppe and the green devil came in, carrying another will, engrossed on brown paper, but not executed, a bottle of ink, and a quill pen. They stood in front of the door of the tomb and spoke some sacrilegious words. The door opened and revealed the corpse of the father like a Padre Eterno, standing upright, clothed in white, with a white face, a flowing white beard and white kid gloves.

Brancaccia was, I believe, really as much frightened as Don Giuseppe pretended to be and I did not like it. The green devil encouraged his master to approach the corpse, which he did, first dipping the pen in the ink-bottle. He offered the pen and held in a convenient manner the new will which would put everything straight, begging his father to sign it.

The corpse slowly raised its stiff right arm, took the pen in its hand and signed the will; it then dropped the pen on the ground, lowered its stiff right arm and the door of the tomb closed. Except for this, it did not move and it did not speak at all. It was a ghastly scene and the house was as still as though it had been empty.

In the next act we returned to Don Giovanni whom we found playing dice with Fernando at an inn. When Fernando had lost his money and his jewellery and his lands and his castle and his furniture, he played for his wife, and Don Giovanni won her also. Whereupon Fernando wrote two letters to his wife, one, which they sent by a messenger, told her to come to the inn at once, the other was for Don Giovanni to give to her when she came. Fernando then went away, leaving the coast clear, and the lady entered.

DON GIOVANNI: Donna Inez, I love you.

DONNA INEZ: Silence, Sir. I am here to meet my husband. Where is he?

DON G (_giving her the second letter_): He left this for you.

DONNA I (_reads_): "Dear Inez: We have been playing dice. Don Giovanni has won. You now belong to him. Your affectionate husband, Fernando."

It cannot be! 'Tis false! My husband would never behave in so ungentlemanly a manner.

GIOV: On the contrary, Madama. And is not this his handwriting?

IN: Now that I look at it again, it is. Ah, Cielo! Betrayed! Surely, Sir, you do not expect me to consent?

GIOV: Certainly I do.

IN: Never. I am a Spanish lady of high degree.

GIOV: Inez, I love you. Be mine.