Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - VIII. Naples
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“Take me to him at once, I must see him at
once!”
I held her back, I said I must speak to her
first. I told her he had been taken ill in the
convent of the Sepolte Vive, the whole place was
infected, she could not go there, she must think
of the child she was going to give birth to.
“Help me downstairs, help me downstairs! I
must go to him at once, why don’t you help
me?” she sobbed.
Suddenly she gave a piercing scream and sank
down on the chair on the point of fainting.
“It is not true, he is not dead, why don’t you
speak, you are a liar, he cannot be dead without
my seeing him.”
She sprang to the door once more.
“I must see him, I must see him!”
Once more I held her back.
“You cannot see him, he is no longer there, he
is . . .”
She sprang at me like a wounded animal.
“You had no right to have him taken away
before I had seen him,” she screamed, mad with
rage. “He was the light of my eyes, you have
taken the light from my eyes! You are a liar, a
murderer! Holy Lucia, take the light from his
eyes as he has taken the light from my eyes!
Sting out his eyes as you stung out your own
eyes!”
An old woman rushed into the room and sprang
at me with uplifted hands as if she wanted to
scratch my face.
“Holy Lucia, take the sight away from him!
Blind him!” she screamed at the top of her voice.
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