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"blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted!" Not in the world that men have made, daughter of earth, ah, not in that; but in the world that God shall make hereafter! "Herr Ritter! you have been? O tell me what she said! 'Tista is not here, he is gone into the woods to gather herbs." "Have you told 'Tista anything?" "About this? Nothing.
The door that led to the stairs had hardly closed after Marzio, when Lucia put her head into the room where Gianbattista was seated. "He is gone," said the young man; "come in, we can talk a few minutes." "Tista," began, Lucia, coming forward and laying her fingers on his curly hair, "what did all that mean last night? Have you understood?"
The same thing for marriage. The priest looks at you, says Oremus paff! You are married, and it cannot be undone! I know it is very serious, but it is only the affair of a moment." Don Paolo did not know whether to laugh or to look grave at this exposition of Gianbattista's views of death and matrimony. He put it down to the boy's excitement. "There is another reason, Tista.
"Let him try, let him try," repeated Gianbattista. "I made a bargain with him last night after you had gone to bed. Do you know what I told him? I told him that I would stay with him, but that if you married any one but me, I would cut his throat Sor Marzio's throat, do you understand?" "Oh, Tista!" cried Lucia. "How did you ever have the courage to tell him such a thing?
"You cannot go to-day it is impossible, Tista your shirts are not even ironed! Oh dear I oh dear! And I had anticipated a feast because I was sure that Marzio would see reason before midday, and there are chickens for dinner with rice, Tista, just as you like them oh, you cannot go, Tista, I cannot let you go!" "Courage, Maria Luisa," exhorted Don Paolo. "It is not a question of chickens."
Sometimes I got hired out in the vine-harvest, and sometimes I sold fruit, or eggs, or fish in the markets, till at last I got a place as a servant in a big town, and 'Tista went to school a bit. But seven months ago my mistress died, and her daughters wouldn't keep me, because I had become weak and couldn't do the work of their house as well as I used to do it.
"Here is the money," said Lucia. "You will take it, won't you? Then it will be all settled. What is the matter, Tista? Are you not glad?" "I do not trust him," answered the young man. "It is not like him to change his mind like that, all in a minute. He means some mischief." "What can he do?" "I do not know. I feel as if some evil were coming. Patience! Who knows?
You will probably not see Tista any more, nor Gianbattista, nor his excellency the Signorino Bordogni" Lucia turned suddenly pale, and rested her hand upon the old straw chair on which Don Paolo had sat during his visit. "What is this? What do you tell me? Not see Tista?" she asked quickly.
She would not endanger the durability of his aspiration by discussing it. "To go back to what we were speaking of," she said, "you will go to the workshop this afternoon, Tista, won't you?" "Yes," he said mechanically. "What else should I do? Oh, Lucia, my darling, I cannot bear this uncertainty," he cried, suddenly giving vent to his feelings. "Where will it end?
"Won't you have one of them, Herr Ritter?" asked the boy, wistfully, holding out towards the old man a spendid crimson bud. He answered hurriedly, with a gesture of avoidance. "No, no, 'Tista! I never touch roses! See here, I'll take a cluster of this, 'tis more in my line a great deal."
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