Brothers -- Fiction; Corsica (France) -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English; Twins -- Fiction; Vendetta -- Fiction
"Ah! we are twenty minutes too soon," he exclaimed. "Let us sit down;
you are very likely tired."
We sat down; indeed, we extended ourselves at full length upon the
grassy sward, in a position facing the great breach in the wall.
"But," said I to my companion, "it seems to me that you have not
finished the story you began just now."
"No," replied Lucien. "Every morning and every evening Savilia came
down to the dungeon in which Giudice was confined, and then separated
from him only by a grating, she would undress herself, and expose
herself naked to him, a captive.'
"'Giudice,' she would say, 'how do you expect that such an ugly man as
you are can ever hope to possess all this?'
"This trial lasted for three months, and was repeated twice a day. But
at the end of that period, thanks to a waiting woman whom he had
bribed, Guidice was enabled to escape. He soon returned with all his
men, who were much more numerous than those Savilia could assemble,
and took the castle by assault, and having first possessed himself of
Savilia, he subsequently exposed her naked in an iron cage at the
cross roads in the Bocca di Cilaccia, offering, himself, the key to
any passer by who might be tempted to enter. After three days of this
public prostitution Savilia died."
"Well," I said, "it seems to me that your ancestors had a very pretty
idea of revenging themselves, and that in finishing off their enemies
with dagger or gunshot their descendants have in a manner
degenerated!"
"Without mentioning that the day may come when we shall not kill them
at all!" replied Lucien. "But it has not come to that yet. The two
sons of Savilia," he continued, "who were at Ajaccio with their uncle,
were true Corsicans, and continued to make war against the sons of
Guidice. This war lasted for four hundred years, and only finished, as
you saw, by the dates upon the carbines of my parents, on the 21st
September, 1819, at eleven o'clock A.M."
"Oh, yes, I remember the inscription; but I had not time to inquire
its meaning, as just then we were summoned to supper."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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