If you knew, Marianna, if you only knew … The terrible sin I’ve committed … My God! How am I going to summon up the courage to tell you? Don’t tell me off! I’ll confess to no one else but you – but only in a whisper, mind, and all in a fluster … Don’t look me in the face! Hold me tight and listen.
I’ve been dancing! Can you imagine? I’ve been dancing! But listen … don’t shout at me! There was no one watching – only papa, Giuditta, Gigi, mama, Annetta, the Valentini … and Signor Nino … In fact, he was the one I danced with … Listen, I’ll explain … you’ll see that it wasn’t my fault … I wasn’t to blame … they forced me …
Yesterday evening the Valentini brought their harmonium. Annetta played, and then Giuditta. Everyone was dancing – Annetta, Giuditta, and even Gigi a little. My sister’s bed had to be dismantled to make room for a dance floor. After Giuditta had finished dancing, Signor Nino came and invited me. I felt my face burning, and I wished I were a hundred feet below the ground. I stammered, not knowing what to say. I refused, repeatedly, I swear to you. Everyone was laughing and clapping. Papa came and took me by the hand. He gave me a hug and said there was no great harm in my dancing as well, and he too was laughing. It was no use my trying to explain I didn’t even know how to dance, I hadn’t been taught that either at the convent. Signor Nino volunteered to teach me. I couldn’t see clearly any more, I felt dizzy, my ears were ringing, and my legs were trembling. I let myself be led, I let myself be dragged along, without the least idea of what they were doing with me. It was excruciating, Marianna … Yet, when he took me by the hand.. when he put his arm around my waist … it seemed to me that his hand was hot, that every vein of my blood was on fire, and that an icy chill was flooding into my heart! But at the same time I felt comforted. My heart was pounding, feeling that other heart beating against it. Everyone must have been laughing at me. You’re laughing, too. Even I can laugh at myself now. How many young women of our age have not danced a dozen times at least? I wonder whether at first they went through the same experience as I did? But afterwards I confess that the music, those happy faces, the words of encouragement he whispered in my ear, his hand that held mine almost dispelled my confusion, even shame … Poor Marianna, don’t be cross with me. I very nearly felt happy …
My dear Marianna, forgive me! I shan’t do it again. Anyway, I hope they leave me alone now. They’ve made enough fun of my tunic and my awkwardness … including him … Signor Nino … But no! I’m sure he didn’t want to make me dance just to laugh at me … He meant to please me … and in fact he was being too kind to me, to a poor postulant who didn’t know how to move, who stumbled at every step, and was overcome with dizziness … and he dances so well! If you’d seen him dancing with Giuditta – she certainly knows how to dance!
Afterwards we played a little music. Annetta and Giuditta sang a few theatrical songs. Then they absolutely insisted that I sang as well … Tell me, what on earth could I have sung, apart from Salve Regina? Well, they said they’d even settle for Salve Regina. They were surely trying to tease me by making me sing, and my papa most of all! In the choir, as you well know, we sing almost in darkness, behind screens, with a veil over our face, among those that we know very well. But to sing in public, in front of so many people! Signor Nino was there, too! Yet I was obliged to sing – not the words, mind, only the tune. My voice was quavering, and I could hardly breathe, but they were very kind and didn’t laugh, in fact they applauded. Apparently they thought the music of Salva Regina was really beautiful. I could see that Signor Nino was very touched by it. And the way he was looking at me, when he’s usually so cheerful and light-hearted.
I’ve told you everything that I’ve been doing, and thinking, and all the fun I’ve been having, and all the terrible sins I’ve committed, even at the risk of being lectured by you. I wouldn’t have dared to confess them to our saintly old chaplain … but if I didn’t tell you everything, my dearest sister, if I didn’t open my heart to you, and confide in you, I think all these things would oppress me. I need to have a long chat with you about them, to recall all the details, to ponder over them, and to talk to myself about them, to see them written down on paper, to dream about them … There are moments when all these thoughts are seething in my mind, making me feel dizzy, befuddled and dazed.
I’m mad. These new sensations must be too violent for me, after the peace and quiet of the convent that I’m used to. I’m glad to be able to talk about them to you at least, and to share with you what I cannot contain in my own heart.
Write to me, write soon. Don’t take too long to reply. Comfort me, talk to your poor friend who’s troubled and perturbed by all this disturbance and novelty, and all these new impressions, and who trembles like a little bird, frightened even by curious onlookers who certainly have no intention of hurting it, but do so just by gathering round to watch.
I want to cry, and laugh, and sing, I want to be happy. I need a letter from you. I need to talk to you, do you understand? Hug me, Marianna … If only I could weep and bury my face in your shoulder!