Note: Translator Pauline Bancroft Flach died in 1966, less than 70 years ago. Therefore, this work is protected by copyright, restricting your legal rights to reproduce it. However, you are welcome to view it on screen, as you do now. Read more about copyright.
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122 THE MIRACLES OF AJVTICHRIST
and a wig tied in a pig-tail. The coach was like an
old diligence, with the body behind the coach box
and seats on the roof.
But everything was new; the horses were
magnificent, powerful animals, carriage and harness
shone, and the passengers were some young
gentlemen and ladies from Catania, who were making an
excursion up Etna. And they could not help
laughing as they drove by the old gala-carriage. They
leaned over from where they sat on the high roof to
look at it, and their laughter sounded very loud and
echoed between the high, silent houses of Diamante.
Donna Micaela was very unhappy. They were
some of her old circle of friends. What would they
not say when they came home? “We have seen
Micaela Palmeri in Diamante.” And they would
laugh and talk, laugh and talk.
Her life seemed so squalid. She was nothing but
the slave of a fool. Her whole life long she would
never do anything but chat with Don Ferrante.
When she came home she was quite exhausted.
She was so tired and weak that she could scarcely
drag herself up the steps.
And all the time Don Ferrante was rejoicing in
his good fortune at having met all those fine people,
and having been seen in his state. He told her
that now no one would ask whether she was ugly, or
whether her father had stolen. Now people knew
that she was the wife of a man of rank.
After dinner Donna Micaela sat quite silent, and
let her father talk to Don Ferrante. Then a
mandolin began to sound quite softly in the street under
the window of the summer palace. It was a single
mandolin with no accompaniment of guitar or violin.
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