Oh, Marianna! My dear Marianna! How I’ve cried! How I’ve suffered! The Valentini are leaving tomorrow, do you realize? There’s no cholera any more, there’s nothing! They’re leaving …
I shan’t see him again. I found out by accident, a few moments ago. They didn’t even have the grace to tell me …
I thought I’d die. I regretted that God had ever made me get better. I cried the whole night. My chest hurts a lot. I sometimes sobbed so loudly that Giuditta must have heard.
I’m completely shameless! I’ve no restraint any more. I’ve only one thought. I went out like a madwoman to ask the steward’s wife for information. It’s tomorrow! He came to say goodbye to my family, and they didn’t even let me see him for the last time! And I shan’t ever see him again … and it was after nightfall when I found out, when it was already dark … when I couldn’t see any more to look at the little house where he’ll be spending his last night!
My God! what kind of people are these … that are so heartless, without pity or tears?
What a night, what a horrible night! How cramped this little room is, and how miserable it is here! All night long the rain beat against the window-panes, the wind rattled the shutters, the thunder sounded as if it would bring the roof of the house down on us, and the sinister flashes of lightning were discernible even from inside … I was afraid and dared not cross myself … I’m damned, excommunicated, for even at that moment I thought only of him … more than once I prayed to God, hoping that this storm would last, I don’t know how long, provided he didn’t leave, that he remained always near by me … That’s all – not to see him, not to speak to him, but to know that he was there, down in the valley, beneath that roof, behind that window, so that I could send him my greetings in the morning, and with my eyes embrace that threshold, that earth, that air … Is that too much to ask? My God! If I can be content with that …
But hasn’t he realized that I’m pining away for him? That I’m weak and ill? Hasn’t he cried? Hasn’t he suffered as well? Why hasn’t he come, for a moment, one single moment, just for one last sight of him, to say goodbye to me from afar?
Why hasn’t he let me hear the sound of his voice? Why hasn’t he been through the wood? Why hasn’t he fired his gun into the air? Why hasn’t he got his dog to bark – the dog that he asked me if I loved, on whose head he placed his hand next to mine …
O God! O God!
I’m writing to you in bed, with a big book resting on my knees. Sometimes I shiver with cold, and I’m overcome with dizziness, but if I didn’t write to you I couldn’t stand being shut up in here – I think I’d go mad. I’ve no tears left, and anguish devours me like a rabid dog. I feel frenzied, feverish, and delirious. This falling rain and whistling wind, these claps of thunder and flashes of lightning are unbearable. This roof presses down on me, these walls suffocate me. I wish I could open the window, and feel that icy rain beating on my forehead, and drink in that cold wind. I wish I could enjoy the lightning, the storm that howls and writhes and moans like me. If I’d only known that I’d have to suffer so much … Why did these merciless people take me away from the convent? Why didn’t they leave me there to die, alone, and helpless, of cholera and neglect?
Hush! Listen, Marianna! Didn’t you hear? I thought … there, at the window, amid the tumult of wind and rain … a footstep … Yes, yes, it’s him … it’s him!
My heart’s bursting, and I’m clutching my head with both hands, because it feels as though I’m also losing my mind … It’s him! What’s he doing? What does he want? He’s knocking at the window! O God! Let me die, let me die! He’s saying goodbye … and I… my God, what’s happening inside me …
I’ve had a coughing fit … that’s my farewell … He must have heard. I can’t see any more … I feel terrible … My God! What if they were to find me with this shameful letter?