Senso (And Other Stories) Read online

  ‘They should mend the heads of our generals,’ growled the pipe-smoker sarcastically.

  No one took any notice of me.

  A girl came in, alone, who looked like a shop-girl, and she sat down beside the thin young officer. ‘Will you buy me a coffee?’ she asked him aloud.

  After some conversation, to which I paid no attention, one of the two soldiers lying down said to the girl, without moving, ‘You know, I saw that Lieutenant Remigio of yours, Costanza.’

  ‘When?’ asked the woman.

  ‘Today. I went to visit him. He was with Giustina. Do you know her?’

  ‘Yes, that fair-haired girl with three false teeth.’

  ‘I’ve never noticed.’

  ‘Take a good look at her. And how is Remigio?’

  ‘He has the odd twinge in his leg that makes him yelp every now and then, and he limps a bit, that’s all. A truly providential illness, that was. Other men are risking their lives, wearing themselves out with hunger and exhaustion in this infernal heat, suffering all the calamities of this war, while he has fun, eating and drinking, with someone to pay his keep.’

  ‘Who on earth is keeping a wastrel like that?’

  ‘A lady.’

  ‘An old crone.’

  ‘No, my dear, a beautiful young woman, a millionairess and a countess, what’s more, who’s madly in love with him.

  ‘And she pays for the Lieutenant’s amusements?’

  ‘She gives him money – a lot of money.’

  ‘Poor fool!’

  ‘Remigio calls her his Messalina. He hasn’t told me her family name, but he did say that she was from Trento and that her first name was Livia. Is there anyone here who knows Trento?’

  The thin officer said, ‘I’ll ask round and let you know whatever I find out, tomorrow evening, assuming we’re still in Verona by then. Contessa Silvia, was that it?’

  ‘Livia, Contessa Livia, and don’t forget,’ shouted the recumbent officer.

  Costanza spoke up again. ‘But is Remigio really unwell then?’

  ‘That’s for sure. You see, no one can fool four doctors: one from Remigio’s own regiment; one, selected by the general, from another regiment; and two from the military hospital. Every three days they go and visit him. They squeeze and tap and tug his leg, and make him yell. Once he fainted. He’s better now.’

  ‘He’ll be cured as soon as the war’s over,’ Costanza insisted.

  ‘Don’t even say that as a joke,’ said the other officer lying stretched out, who had not spoken till then. ‘Let me tell you that if there were the least suspicion of chicanery the lieutenant and the doctors would be shot within twenty-four hours, one as a deserter from the field of battle, the others as accomplices and accessories.’

  ‘And they would deserve it, by God!’ roared the Bohemian without removing the pipe from his mouth.

  The young officer added, ‘General Hauptmann wouldn’t even wait twenty-four hours.’

  At these words the hazy idea already in my mind became vividly clear: I had found the solution.

  ‘General Hauptmann,’ I repeated to myself.

  Overcome, as the blood rushed to my head, I was obliged to remove the veil completely from my face. I felt parched, and called for some water. Alerted to my presence, the officers immediately came crowding round me.

  ‘Ah, what a beautiful woman!’

  ‘Is there anything you need?’

  ‘Would you like a glass of Marsala?’

  ‘May we keep you company?’

  ‘Are you waiting for someone?’

  ‘What wonderful eyes!’

  ‘Such lips were meant for kissing!’

  The thin young officer had insinuated himself onto the banquette, next to me. Being the youngest, he wanted to prove himself the boldest. I freed myself from his clutches and tried to get up to leave, but two others held me back. The ugly Bohemian looked on, smoking his pipe. I turned to him and cried, ‘Sir, I am a lady. Help me, and escort me back to the Torre di Londra.’

  The Bohemian pushed his way over, and practically sent the young officer flying. Then, looking stern and serious, he put his pipe in his pocket and offered me his arm.

  We left together. On the way to the hotel, which was not far, he said little, but spoke to me with respect. I asked him who General Hauptmann was, where he had his office, and further information that I had my own good reasons for wanting to know.

  I learned that the General was commander-in-chief of this stronghold, and that his Headquarters was based in Castel San Pietro.

  The carriage entrance to the inn was still wide open although it was long past one in the morning. There was a great coming and going of soldiers and civilians. I thanked the officer, who reeked of infernal tobacco, and I made myself as comfortable as I could on the cushions in my carriage that stood in a corner of the yard. Being dead tired, I soon dozed off, but the sound of someone banging on the window woke me with a start.

  The rough, coarse voice of the Bohemian was saying repeatedly, ‘It’s me, signora contessa. With all due respect, I’d just like a word with you.’

  I lowered the window and the officer handed me something: it was my purse, which I had left behind on the table in the coffee-house in the confusion that had arisen when I was about to pay. His three companions had found it and given it to him.

  He said solemnly, ‘There’s not a piece of paper or a single coin missing.’

  ‘But were the papers read?’ I was thinking of Remigio’s letter, the only one I had kept and that, not for anything in the world, would I have wanted to let out of my hands.

  ‘No, signora contessa. Your visiting-cards were seen, and the portrait of Lieutenant Remigio. Nothing else, on my honour.’

  The following morning before nine I had Giacomo drive me in the carriage up to the Headquarters of the stronghold. It seemed an endless climb. I shouted to Giacomo to whip the horses. The square in front of the castle was crowded with all kinds of soldiers, casualties, and townspeople, but I reached the entrance to the offices unhindered. There, an old disabled soldier took my visiting-card. He returned a few minutes later, saying that General Hauptmann invited me to enter his private quarters, and that he would come and pay his respects as soon as he had dealt with some matters of the utmost urgency.

  I was led through loggias, along corridors and across terraces to a room with three windows that looked out over the whole city. Broken into sections by its bridges, the Adige traced an S-shape, with one of its loops winding round the foot of the little hill on which Castel San Pietro stood, and the other round the foot of another dark, crenellated castle. And rising above the houses were the rooftops and towers of the ancient basilicas; and marked by a large open space was the vast oval of the Arena. The morning sun shone brightly on the town and hills, on one side turning the mountains golden, and on the other casting a serene light over the endless green plain scattered with white villages, houses, churches, and bell-towers.

  Two little girls, with pink faces and straw-blonde hair, burst into the room, with great peals of laughter. When they saw me, they were shy at first, but then suddenly plucked up courage and came over to me.

  The older one said, ‘Please take a seat. Shall I fetch Mama?’

  ‘No, my child, I’m waiting for your Papa.’

  ‘We haven’t seen Papa this morning. He’s so busy.’

  ‘I want to see Papa,’ cried the little one. ‘I love my Papa.’

  At that point the General came in, and the little girls went running up to him, and clung to his legs, and tried to climb on to his shoulders. He picked up each child in turn and kissed her; and his two madcap daughters laughed, while two tears of blissful tenderness welled up in the General’s eyes. He turned to me, saying, ‘Forgive me, signora. If you have children, you’ll understand.’

  He sat down opposite me and added, ‘I know the count by name, and should be delighted to be of any service to the signora contessa.’

  I made it clear to the Gen
eral that the children should leave us, and in a voice full of gentleness he said to them, ‘Run along now, girls, run along, the contessa and I have things to discuss.’

  The children took a step towards me as if they were about to kiss me. I turned away. They finally went off, looking a little upset.

  ‘General,’ I murmured, ‘I’ve come to do my duty as a loyal citizen.’

  ‘Is the signora contessa German?’

  ‘No, I’m from the Trentino.’

  ‘Ah, very well, then!’ he exclaimed, gazing at me with a somewhat astonished and impatient air.

  ‘Read this.’ And with a decisive gesture I handed him Remigio’s letter, which I had found again in the pocket of my purse.

  Having read the letter, the General said, ‘I don’t understand. Is the letter addressed to you?’

  ‘Yes, General.’

  ‘So the man who wrote it is your lover.’

  I did not reply. The General drew a cigar from his pocket and lit it. He leapt up and began to pace round the room. All of a sudden he planted himself in front of me, and staring into my face, he said, ‘Well, be quick, I’m in a hurry.’

  ‘The letter is from Remigio Ruz, Lieutenant of the 3rd Grenadiers.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘The letter is clear. He passed himself off as sick, by paying the four doctors.’ And in a voice quickened with hatred, I added, ‘He is a deserter from the field of battle.’

  ‘I see. The Lieutenant was your lover and he has jilted you. You’re taking your revenge by having him shot, and the doctors along with him. Is that it?’

  ‘I don’t care about the doctors.’

  The General stood there for a while, thinking, with a frown on his face, then he handed back the letter I had given him.

  ‘Signora, consider this carefully: it’s dishonourable to act as an informer, and what you are doing is murder.’

  ‘General,’ I exclaimed, looking up at him haughtily, ‘carry out your duty.’

  *

  At about nine o’clock that evening a soldier delivered a note to me at the Torre di Londra hotel, where a room had finally been found for me. It read as follows:

  ‘Tomorrow morning, at four thirty precisely, Lieutenant Ruz and his regiment’s doctor will be shot in the second courtyard of Castel San Pietro. This letter will grant you access to witness the execution. The undersigned regrets that he cannot also offer the signora contessa the spectacle of the other two doctors’ execution. For reasons that it would be futile to explain here, they have been referred to another court martial.

  General Hauptmann’

  At three thirty I left the hotel on foot, in the pitch dark, accompanied by Giacomo. I told him to leave me at the bottom of the hill of Castel San Pietro, and I began to climb the steep road alone. I was hot, I could not breathe. I did not want to remove the veil from my face. Instead I undid the top buttons of my dress and tucked the flaps inside. With the air on my breast I was able to breathe more easily.

  The stars were growing pale, as dawn came, diffusing its yellow light. I followed some soldiers round the side of the castle and into a courtyard enclosed within high, forbidding outer walls. Two squads of grenadiers were already lined up, motionless. No one took any notice of me, in the semi-darkness, amid the silent throng of soldiers.

  I could hear the bells ringing down in the city, and a confusion of sound rising from below. A low door in the castle creaked open and two men came out, with their hands tied behind their backs. One of them, a thin, dark-haired fellow, stepped forward boldly, with his head held high. The other, flanked by two soldiers supporting him with great difficulty by the armpits, dragged his feet, sobbing.

  What happened next, I do not know. Something was read out, I think. Then there was a deafening noise and I saw the dark young man fall to the ground, and in the same instant I noticed that Remigio was stripped to the waist, and I was blinded by those arms, shoulders, neck, and limbs that I had so loved. Into my mind flashed a picture of my lover, full of ardour and joy, when he held me for the first time in his steely embrace, in Venice at the Sirena. I was startled by a second burst of sound. On his chest that still quivered, whiter than marble, a blonde woman had thrown herself, and was spattered with spurting blood.

  At the sight of that shameless hussy all my anger and resentment returned to me, and with them came dignity and strength. I had acted within my rights, and I turned to leave, serene in the self-respect that came from having fulfilled a difficult duty.

  As I was going through the gate I felt the veil being torn from my face. I turned and saw before me the unsightly features of the Bohemian officer. He removed the stem of his pipe from his huge mouth, and with his moustaches coming at me, he spat on my cheek …

  Did I not say that young lawyer Gino would be back? All it took was one line – ‘Come, let’s be friends again’ – to bring him running. He jilted that child-bride of his a week to the day before the marriage was to take place. And embracing me almost with Lieutenant Remigio’s strength, he keeps telling me over and over again, ‘Livia, you’re an angel!’

  A BODY

  I

  Whether my beloved were nymph or sprite, I do not know. In the words of an old popular verse, I called her ‘the capricious young lady of the flowery fields’. She was eighteen. Every so often she would let go of my arm and run off across those lovely green grass lawns in the Prater. Sometimes I chased after her, and she would dodge away, circling round the enormous trunk of an oak-tree, or bounding off in all directions like a gazelle. Sometimes I let her go, and then, seeing how far away from me she was, she would stop, lie down on the grass, and wait for me, out of breath.

  As I came up to her, I looked all around to see if anyone might be watching. Propping herself up on her arms, she arched her supple body, which curved like the handle of a Greek vase. I bent down and kissed her.

  Then I said to her, ‘Watch out, Carlotta, your garters are showing.’

  And springing to her feet, she shook the skirt of her pink dress, and whispered in my ear with sweet irony, ‘Are you jealous of the rising moon?’

  We were actually quite alone in that corner of the park, and the rays of the moon were beginning to outshine the sunset’s reddish glow. A sound of great merriment, of music and singing, could be heard in the distance: the numerous voices of a jubilant crowd. Through the leafy branches we saw a lamp come on, then another, and yet another, and so it continued, until the shape of the trees stood out black against a bright blaze of yellow light. ‘Let’s stop here,’ said Carlotta. ‘We can sit on this bench. Don’t you feel an utterly serene sense of enchantment in your heart and somehow a great desire for solitude?’ And she sighed softly, and squeezed my hand, and looked up at the sky with liquid, smiling eyes. I was about to reply, but the sound of someone coming by silenced me. A tall, thin man dressed in black passed in front of us. Carlotta stifled a cry at the sight of him and clung to my body, all atremble.

  ‘What is it, my darling?’ I asked very anxiously.

  ‘Nothing, nothing,’ replied Carlotta. ‘I was afraid. It was childishness. Forgive me.’

  And clasping her round the waist, I tried to make her sit down again, but she broke away, saying, ‘Please, let’s go to the Wurstel-Prater. I need to have some fun.’ She grabbed hold of my hand and, practically running, dragged me into the midst of the crowd and into the light.

  In response to my questions she said that it was just a silly scare, and she promised to explain some other time.

  ‘But has that man done you any harm?’ I insisted.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Has he tried to make advances?’

  ‘Oh no, no!’

  ‘But tell me at least whether he has ever spoken to you?’

  ‘Never, I swear to you.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘It’s foolishness, I tell you. I’ll explain tomorrow. Right now, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to think about it.’ And she planted herself right in front of a puppet booth.
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  It was one of the usual farces, with a girl who hides her lovers in the flour-bin, a devil that steals wine and dishes from the table, while an old woman who keeps replacing the plates and bottles gets beaten by the devil, and other such childish things. Then a coffin appeared on the stage and two undertakers chased the old woman into it, and nailed her in with a hammer. And afterwards they put the coffin on their shoulders and were about to leave, when all of a sudden the lid flew open and a rabbit, a real white rabbit, jumped out, to gales of laughter from the children, their nursemaids, and the corporals and sergeants glad-eyeing the young women. Carlotta, who had calmed down a little and begun to smile, was upset again by the ending and asked me to take her away.

  In the four months that we had been together, I had noticed that despite her cheerful disposition and good health Carlotta had a great fear of death. Everything that could possibly remind her of it, one way or another, was enough to make her pale and tremble. She never wanted to go anywhere near a hospital, and once, when we were on our way to the Augarten in a carriage, I told the coachman to turn into a side-street so as not to pass too close to the Hospital of the Brothers of St John, on Taborstrasse. If she saw a funeral procession in the distance, she would turn back or take refuge in a shop, and look the other way. She did not want to read about the dead or the sick, or hear any talk of them. She tolerated the company of doctors, but could not stand to be with surgeons. And in a beer-house one day, when Dumreicher was telling me, in the course of conversation, about some unusual autopsy case, Carlotta, who was with me, suddenly felt unwell. She quickly recovered, but for twenty-four hours those pretty lips of hers refused to form their usual smile. I took such instances of odd behaviour to be a spontaneous expression of extreme sensitivity. I forgave them, I respected them. As a matter of fact I found them pleasing in that artless soul.

  Yet, though she had the soul of a child, she had the body of a goddess. Comparison with Greek statues can no more than suggest those slender, vigorous limbs of tempered steel. She was like the Amazons and the Huntress Dianas of Scopas and Praxiteles; she also had the poise of callipygean Venuses, of crouching Venuses, of reclining nymphs, of Psyche embracing Cupid. Cleomenes, son of Apollodoros, surely taught her how to pose, after he had put the finishing touches to the Medici Venus.