Now you understand the father's remorse. To bring his little Celinina
back to life he would have scoured the face of the earth and
collected all the oxen and all the mules upon it. The thought of not
having satisfied this innocent desire was the sharpest and coldest
blade that pierced his heart. Vainly did he appeal to his reason; of
what account was his reason? He was quite as much of a child as the
little one asleep in the coffin, for he gave greater importance to a
toy just then than to anything else on earth or in heaven.
VI.
The moans of despair at last died away in the house, as if grief,
piercing its way into the very depths of the soul, which is its
natural dwelling-place, had closed after it the windows of the
senses, so as to be alone and luxuriate in itself.
This was Christmas Eve; and while stillness reigned in the home so
recently visited by death, from all the other houses and from the
streets of the city came the joyous roar of rude musical instruments
and the clamorous voices of children and adults singing the advent
of the Messiah. The shouts from the flat above could be heard in the
very parlor where the dead child lay; and the pious women who sat
with her were perturbed in their sorrow and their devout meditation.
On the upper floor many small children, with a still greater number
of large ones, happy papas and mammas, excited aunts and uncles, were
celebrating Christmas and were going mad with delight before the most
admirable Bethlehem manger that was ever dreamed of and the most
luxuriant tree that ever grew toys and sweetmeats, and which bore on
its limbs a thousand lighted tapers. The parlor ceiling seemed to
shake under the great commotion; the poor little corpse quivered in
its blue coffin; and all the lights in the room oscillated as though
they wished to proclaim that they too were somewhat tipsy. Two of the
good women retired; one alone remained, but her head felt very heavy,
no doubt because she had lost so much sleep on the preceding nights;
so after a little her chin sank on her breast and everything melted
from her consciousness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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