"On the day when this happened the sirocco was blowing--a hot wind
from Africa, and a nasty wind, too! It irritates one's nerves and puts
one in a bad temper! That is probably the reason why the two carters,
Giuseppe Cirotta and Luigi Meta, were quarrelling. No one knew how the
quarrel began. No one knew who began it. All that people saw was that
Luigi had thrown himself upon Giuseppe and was trying to clutch his
throat; while the latter, his shoulders hunched to protect his head and
his thick red neck, was making a lusty use of his strong black fists.
"They were separated and asked:
"'What is the matter?'
"Quite purple with anger Luigi exclaimed:
"'Let this bull repeat in the presence of everybody what he said about
my wife!'
"Cirotta tried to get away. His small eyes hidden in the folds of a
disdainful grimace, he shook his black bullet head, and stubbornly
refused to repeat the offending words. Meta then shouted out in a loud
voice:
"'He says that he has known the sweetness of my wife's caresses!'
"'H'm,' said the people, 'this is no joking matter; this requires
serious attention. Be calm, Luigi. You are a stranger in our parts;
your wife belongs here. We all knew her as a child, and if you have
been wronged her guilt falls equally on all of us. Let us be outspoken!'
"They all gathered round Cirotta.
"'Did you say it?'
"'Well, yes, I did,' he admitted.
"'And is it the truth?'
"'Who has ever known me tell a lie?'
"Cirotta was a respectable man--a husband and a father; the matter was
taking a very serious turn. Those present were perplexed and seemed to
be thinking hard. Luigi went home and said to Concetta:
"'I am going away! I don't want you any more unless you can prove that
the words of this scoundrel are a calumny.'
"Of course she began to cry, but then tears do not acquit one: Luigi
pushed her away. She would be left with a child in her arms without
food or money.
"Catherine was the first of the women to intervene. She kept a small
greengrocer's shop and was as cunning as a fox; in appearance she
resembled an old sack filled unevenly with flesh and bones.
"'Signor,' she said, 'you have already heard that this concerns the
honour of us all. It is not a prank prompted by a night when the moon
is bright; the fate of two mothers is involved, isn't that so? I will
take Concetta to my house and let her live with me till we find out the
truth.'
"She was as good as her word; and later she and Luccia, the noisy,
shrivelled old witch, whose voice could be heard three miles away, both
tackled poor Giuseppe: they asked him to come out and began to pluck at
his soul as if it had been an old rag.
"'Well, my good man, tell us how many times you took Concetta to
yourself?'
"The fat Giuseppe puffed out his cheeks, thought awhile, and said:
"'Once!'
"'He could have told us that without reflection,' remarked Luccia
aloud, as if talking to herself.
"'Did it happen in the evening, in the night, or in the morning?' asked
Catherine, after the fashion of a judge.
"Giuseppe chose evening without thinking.
"'Was it still daylight?'
"'Yes,' said the fool.
"'That means that you saw her body?'
"'Yes, of course.'
"'Then tell us what it looked like.'
"He understood at last the drift of the questions, and opened his mouth
like a sparrow choking with a grain of barley. He understood, and
muttered angrily under his breath; blood rushed to his large ears till
they became quite purple.
"'Well, what can I say? I did not examine her like a doctor!'
"'You eat fruit without enjoying the look of it?' asked Luccia. 'But
perhaps you noticed one of Concetta's peculiarities?' She went on
questioning him, laughing and winking as she did so.
"'It all happened so quickly,' said Giuseppe, 'that, to tell you the
truth, I didn't notice anything.'
"'That means that you never had her,' said Catherine.
"She was a kind woman, but, when necessary, she could be quite stern.
In the end, they so confused the fellow and made him contradict himself
so often that he lost his head--and confessed:
"'Nothing at all happened; I said it simply out of malice.'
"This did not surprise the old women.
"'It is what we thought,' they said; and, letting him go, they left the
matter to the decision of the men.
"Two days later our Workers' Society met. Cirotta had to face them,
having been accused of libelling a woman. Old Giacomo Fasca, a
blacksmith, said in a way that did credit to him:
"'Citizens, comrades and good people! We demand that justice shall be
done to us. We on our part must be just to everybody: let everybody
understand that we know the high value of what we want, and that
justice is not an empty word for us as it is for our masters. Here is a
man who has libelled a woman, offended a comrade, disrupted one family
and brought sorrow to another, who has made his wife suffer jealousy
and shame. Our attitude to this man should be stern. What do you
propose to do?'
"Sixty-seven tongues exclaimed in one voice:
"'Drive him out of the commune!'
"Fifteen of the men thought that this was too severe a punishment, and
a dispute arose. And the dispute became a very noisy one, for the fate
of a man hung on their decision, and not the fate of one man only: the
man was married and had three children. What had his wife and children
done? He had a house, a vineyard, a pair of horses, four donkeys for
the use of foreigners. All these things had been acquired by his own
labour and had cost him a deal of pains. Poor Giuseppe was skulking in
a corner amongst the children and looked as gloomy as the very devil.
He sat doubled up on a chair, his head bowed, fumbling his hat. He had
pulled off the ribbon already, and now was slowly tearing off the brim.
His fingers jerked as if he were playing the fiddle. When he was asked
what he had to say he stood up slowly and, straightening his body, said:
"'I beg you to be lenient! There is no one without sin. To drive me off
the land on which I have lived for more than thirty years, and where my
ancestors have worked, would not be just.'
"The women were also against his being exiled, so Giacomo Fasca at last
made the following proposal:--
"'I think, friends, that he will be sufficiently punished if we saddle
him with the duty of keeping Luigi's wife and child--let him pay her
half as much as Luigi earned!'
"They discussed the matter at great length and finally settled on that.
Giuseppe Cirotta was very pleased to get off so easily. Besides, this
decision satisfied all: the matter was not taken into the law courts,
it was decided in their own circle and no knives were used.
"We do not like, signor, what they write about our affairs in the
papers in a language unfamiliar to us. The words that we can understand
occur only here and there, like teeth in an old man's mouth. Besides,
we don't like the way the judges talk of us, for they are strangers to
us and don't understand our life. They talk of us as if we were savages
and they themselves angels of God, who don't know the taste of meat or
wine, and don't touch womenkind. We are simple folks and we look on
life in a simple way.
"So they decided that Giuseppe Cirotta should keep the wife and child
of Luigi Meta.
"The matter however had a different ending.
"When Luigi found out that Cirotta's words were untrue and that his
wife was innocent, and when he heard our decision, he wrote her a short
note in which he invited her to come home:
*
"'Come to me and we shall live happily again. Do not take a farthing
from that man and, if you have taken any, throw it in his face! I am
guilty before you. Could I have thought that a man would lie in such a
matter as love?'
*
"But he also wrote another letter to Cirotta:
"'I have three brothers and all four of us have sworn to one another
that we will kill you like a ram if you ever leave the island and land
in Sorrento, Castellamare, Torre, or anywhere else. As soon as we find
it out we shall kill you, remember! This is as true as that we belong
to your commune and are good honest people. My wife has no need of your
help. Even my pig would refuse to eat your bread. Do not leave this
island until I tell you you may!'
"That is how it all happened. It is said that Cirotta took this letter
to the judge and asked him whether Luigi could not be punished for
threatening him, and that the judge said:
"'Of course he can, but then his brothers will certainly kill you; they
will come over here and kill you. I advise you to wait. That is better.
Anger is not like love: it does not last for ever!'
"The judge may have said it: he is a good and clever man, and makes
very good verses; but I don't believe that Cirotta ever went to him or
showed him the letter. No, Cirotta is a decent fellow and it is not
likely that he would have acted so stupidly. People would have jeered
at him.
"We are simple working people, signor. We have our own life, our own
ideas and opinions. We have a right to shape our life as we like and as
we think best.
"Socialists? Friend, in my opinion a working man is born a socialist;
although we don't read books we can smell the truth--truth has a strong
smell about it which is always the same--the smell of the sweat of
labour!"