Casa Braccio, Volumes 1 and 2
"The world is come to an end.
k himself to his snuffbox. It was of worn black ebony, adorned in the middle of the lid with a small view of Saint Peter's and the colonnades in mosaic, with a very blue sky. From long use, each tiny fragment of the mosaic was surrounded by a minute black line, which indeed len
the operations of pinching, stuffing, snuffing,
n their unwinking gaze. He looked dangerous just then, bu
hould know why," answered the
, hairy on the backs of the fingers, between the knuckles. His wife, Sora Nanna, said that he had a fist like a paving-stone. He also looked as though he might have the constitution of a mule. He was at that time about
oad between Subiaco and Rome, Gigetto, already mentioned, was supposed to represent him. It was understood that Gigetto was to marry Annetta-if he could be prevailed upon to do so, for he was the younger son of a peasant family which held its head even higher than Stefanone, and the young man as well as his people looked upon Annetta's wild ways with disap
ight sleeves of his coat, in the old fashion. He also wore amazingly tight black trousers, strapped closely over his well-blacked boots. To tell the truth, these nether garments, though of great natural resistance, had lived so long at a high tension, so to say, that they were no longer equally tight at all points, and there were, undoubtedly, ce
d the operation of taking snuff,
" he observed, by way of a general re
k you. I wish to die, if I forget it. You tell me that this daughter of mine is making love with the Englishman. And then you say that you do not
die, too!" exclaimed Sor Tommas
yet they can sting. And after a thousand years, they still sting. You-what can you understand? Are you perhaps a father? You have not even a wife. Oh, blessed be God! You
nsult. "You-to me-ignorant! Oh, beautiful, most beautiful, this! From a peasant to a
ld I do with your diplomas! I ask you, what do you know? Do you know at all what a daughter is? Blood of my bl
me 'ignorant' in my face
, his clenched hand on the table. "I say it twice, three
ay every one can hear you
grave-diggers. And then-ignorant! O
ough!" roared the doctor, across
r soul! If I get hold
sandals and thongs. He is generally a shepherd, and is held in contempt by the more respe
s pushed up within a few inches of his chest, so that his movements were considerably hampered as he stretched out his hands rather wildly towards his adversary. T
a quiet, dry voice spoke with a strong foreign accent. It was Angus Dalrymple,
, as he stood still in the doorway. "You cannot hit a man a
l back into his seat. The doctor's anxious and excited e
"A little discussion-a mere jest. Our f
uld have explained you away altogether
wn close to his host, as a precautionary measure in case the play should be resumed. Stefanone would have had a bad chance of being d
enough, though his eyes were bloodshot and
rning wicks, which she placed upon the table. Dalrymple looked up at her, and seeing her expression of inquiry, slowly nodded. With a laugh which drew her long red-brown lips
in. "And then-it is always the same. Half a '
the glass and as a libation, and then offered to fill the glasses of each of the two men, who smiled, shook their heads, and covered their tumblers with their right hands. At last Dalrymple helped himself, nodded politely to his companions, and slowly emptied
w?" asked Annett
alrymple. "What is ther
with respect to your face-the pig we called the Grape-eater last year? Speaking with respect, he was a good pig. It is one of his hams that we have cut. There is also salad, and fresh bread, which you like. And wine, I will not speak of it. Eh, h
o much," sai
e not pennies. The more one
as she turned lightly with a toss of
doctor, with a conciliatory
Tommaso," said Dalrymple, gravely.
udden interest, and put on
She is not young! What has sh
ronunciation of Angus. Nevertheless, with northern persistency, Dalrymple corrected him for the hundredth time. The doctor's first attempt ha
n she was overheated. It has immediately settled on her lungs, and you may be sent for at any moment. I passe
d they have? And then pray, pray, sing, sing! It needs a chest! Poor lungs! I will go to my home and get ready-blisters-mustard-a lancet-they will not allow a barber in the convent to bleed them. Well-I make myself the barber! What a life, what a life! If you
d his broad catskin hat upon his head, and took his
" said Stefanone, under his bre
alrymple, who had
e wick of the lamp with the bent brass wire which, with the snuf
cotchman. "Well-the abbess is ver
! So that it need
e slowly sipped the remains
e saints of them-and good night! There would be one misery less. Do you know what they do? They make wine. Good! But they
y peasant with some amusement
a foreigner and a Protestant, can you not say
does the business for the convent? They cannot do it themselves, I suppose.
ou and I do. But Gigetto's father, Sor Agostino, is their steward, if that is what you wish to know. And his father was before him, and Gigetto w
count, I do not see but that you will either have to bear it
now. And the best is only five baiocchi the foglietta, and the cheapest is two and a half. Good bye prof
rved Dalrymple, rising. "I am goi
Signore," answered
oor, bringing in plates and napkins, and knives an
id with a laugh. "The beefs
table, turning the glass wine measure upside down over his tumbler, to let the last drops run out. He watched them
h the Englishman," he said slowly,
nishment, and she tossed a knife and fork angr
father, without raising his eyes. "Do
, it must be true! Now, who has told you that the Englishman
e more, and I would have torn his tongue out. Just the
s a dull and angry light in her eyes. Her long lips were still parte
almost in a whisper, and ther
Stefanone. "You make eyes at him. You wait for him an
servant to wait on him. You are rich. What do I care for the Englishman? Perhaps it is a
er father knew what the tone meant
suddenly aware of a danger
and arranging the knives and forks symme
Englishman came in," said Stefanone, reflectively. "But
e still spoke in a low voice, as
Stefanone, "if I see you mak
ly lest he should shake the table and upset the lamp or the bottles. Annetta had turned again, at the threat he ha
kill me, then! Here I am. What are you waiting for? For the Englishma
fallen in love with him?" asked
he old woman who beat her cat, and then cried when it ran away.
tter than Gigetto? Apopl
ll not even make love to me-not even with an eye. And then, because I love the Englishman, who is a great lord, though he says he is a doctor, I must die. Well
ch, he struck her with his open hand. Instead of striking her cheek, the blow fell upon the back of her head and neck, and sent her stumbling forwards. S
"But I will pay you-and S
her father gruffly, but alre
owly turned and gazed at the flaring wicks of the lamp. With a gesture that suggested the movement of a young animal, she rubbed the back of her neck with one hand and
or Tommaso," she said
wn contemptuously. In those days all the respectable peasants in the Roman villages had solid silver forks and spoons, which have long
taircase, but she recovered herself instantly, gave a finishing touch to the
" inquired the Scotchman, cheerful
t down at the end of the table, opposite the street door, and watched him as he swallowed one
e," said Annetta, at last, her c
ymple, carelessly, b
t be a fine thing to eat so much
cotchman, again be
ust be the reason. Besides, it does n
my country most of the people eat oa
t meat, too, like you. As for me-good bread, fresh cheese,
Dalrymple, attacking the
d cabbage! You can smell it a mil
, filling his glass, for the first mouthful of ham made him th
that one can carry on one's head. I will tell you. They use the small baskets for the finer things, the abbess's linen, and the altar cloths, and the chapl
id Dalrymple. "I should think that s
And when it has always been so, i
ey an impression of the immutability of all
ot much interested in the
d. "I suppose you see them, sometimes.
ly at the Scotchman's qui
e abbess's niece. Oh, that one is beaut
she like? Let me see, the abb
will be the next, when this one dies. She is Maria Addolorata, in religion, but I do not know her real name. She has a b
with something like a laugh.
ll you any more about the nun. But I think you are in love with the poor old Grape-eater. It is good ham, is it not? By Bacchus, I fed him on chestnuts with
answered Dalrymple. "Tell me, what do
onvent linen, so I see her when I go with my mother. That is because the Princes of Gerano first gave the linen t
n compounded of the very ancient traditions of the Sarace
en," he said. "That cannot be
fe. But Sister Maria Addolorata sings to herself, and that makes the abbess angry, because it is against the ru
rl become a nun, then? Was she
was of the Princes of Gerano, and there must be one of them for an abbess, and the lot fell upon her. There is the whole history. You may hear her singing sometimes, if you stand under the garden wall, on the narrow path a
with her, who cares?" Dalrympl
grave as she saw that some one was at the street door, looking in cautiously. "Come in, Sor Tommas
elvet collar, and having a case of instruments and medi
abbess is very ill, and I may be there a long time. If you think they would
aughed Annetta. "W
here had not been a trace of displeasure i