The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More

The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More

The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More

The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More

The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More

The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More

The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More

The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More

The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More

The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More

The Fury part 12

She laid the handkerchief in the basket, and also the cross, and closed the lid. But when he looked into her face, he started. Great heavy drops were rolling down her cheeks; she let them flow unheeded.
“Maria Santissima!” he cried. “Are you ill? You are trembling from head to foot!”

“It is nothing,” she said; “I must go home”; and with unsteady steps she was moving to the door, when suddenly she leaned her brow against the wall, and gave way to a fit of bitter sobbing. Before he could go to her she turned upon him suddenly, and fell upon his neck.

“I cannot bear it!” she cried, clinging to him as a dying thing to life—“I cannot bear it! I cannot let you speak so kindly, and bid me go, with all this on my conscience. Beat me! trample on me! curse me! Or if it can be that you love me still, after all I have done to you, take me and keep me, and do with me as you please; only do not send me away so!” She could say no more for sobbing.

Read More

The Fury part 11

She took his hand, that was not able to prevent her, and unbound the linen. When she saw the swelling, she shuddered, and gave a cry: “Jesus Maria!” “It is a little swollen,” he said; “it will be over in four and twenty hours.” “She shook her head. “It will certainly be a week before you can go to sea.” “More likely a day or two; and if not, what matters?” She had fetched a basin, and began carefully washing out the wound, which he suffered passively, like a child. She then laid on the healing leaves, which at once relieved the burning pain, and finally bound it up with…
Read More

The Fury part 10

It is only this confounded ready blood of mine, that always makes a thing look worse than it is.”

“Let me come and bind it up, comparello. Stop one moment; I will go and fetch the herbs, and come to you directly.”

“Never trouble yourself, compare. It has been dressed already; tomorrow morning it will be all over and forgotten. I have a healthy skin, that heals directly.”

“Addio!” said Laurella, turning to the path that goes winding up the cliffs. “Goodnight!” he answered, without looking at her; and then taking his oars and baskets from the boat, and climbing up the small stone stairs, he went into his own hut.

He was alone in his two little rooms, and began to pace them up and down. Cooler than upon the dead calm sea, the breeze blew fresh through the small unglazed windows, which could only be closed with wooden shutters. The solitude was soothing to him. He stooped before the little image of the Virgin, devoutly gazing upo

Read More

The Fury part 9

She could not repress a start, but her eyes flashed bravely on him. “You may kill me if you dare,” she said slowly.

“I do nothing by halves,” he said, and his voice sounded choked and hoarse. “There is room for us both in the sea. I cannot help thee, child”—he spoke the last words dreamily, almost pitifully—“but we must both go down together—both at once—and now!” he shouted, and snatched her in his arms. But at the same moment he drew back his right hand; the blood gushed out; she had bitten him fiercely.

“Ha! can I be made to do your bidding?” she cried, and thrust him from her, with one sudden movement. “Am I here in your power?” and she leaped into the sea, and sank.

She rose again directly; her scanty skirts clung close; her long hair, loosened by the waves, hung heavy about her neck. She struck out valiantly, and, without uttering a sound, she began to swim steadily from the boat toward the shore.

With sen

Read More

The Fury part 8

And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio’s usually so good humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.

She pretended not to notice, wearing her most unconscious look, bending over the edge of the boat, and letting I lie cool water pass between her fingers. Then she threw off” her handkerchief again, and began to smooth her hair, as though she had been alone. Only her eyebrows twitched, and she held up her wet hands in vain attempts to cool her burning cheeks.

Now they were well out in the open sea. The island was far behind, mid the coast before them lay yet distant in the hot haze. Not a sail was within sight, far or near—not even a passing gull to break the stillness. Antonio looked all round, evidently ripening some hasty resolution. The color fade

Read More

The Fury part 7

She had seated herself at the end of the boat, half turning her back to him, so that he could only see her profile. She wore a sterner look than ever; the low, straight brow was shaded by her hair; the rounded lips were firmly closed; only the delicate nostril occasionally gave a wilful quiver. After they had gone on a while in silence, she began to feel the scorching of the sun; and, unloosening her bundle, she threw the handkerchief over her head, and began to make her dinner of the bread; for in Capri she had eaten nothing.

Fetched out a Couple

Antonio did not stand this long; he fetched out a couple of the oranges with which the baskets had been filled in the morning. “Here is something to eat to your bread, Laurella,” he said. “Don’t think I kept them for you; they had rolled out of the basket, and I only found them when I brought the baskets back to the boat.”

“Eat them yourself; bread is enough for me.”

“They are refre

Read More

The Fury part 6

“Not enough to give me macaroni twice a week, if I had had nothing but the boat—only a letter now and then to take to Naples, or a gentleman to row out into the open sea, that he might fish. But you know I have an uncle who is rich; he owns more than one fine orange garden; and, ‘Tonino,’ says he to me, ‘while I live you shall not suffer want; and when I am gone you will find that I have taken care of you.’ And so, with God’s help, I got through the winter.”

“Has he children, this uncle who is rich?”

Long in Foreign Parts

“No, he never married; he was long in foreign parts, and many a good piaster he has laid together. He is going to set up a great fishing business, and set me over it, to see the rights of it.”

“Why, then you are a made man, Tonino!”

The young boatman shrugged his shoulders. “Every man has his own burden,” said he, starting up again to have another look at the weather, turning his ey

Read More

The Fury part 4

“By his ill treatment of her; he beat her and trampled upon her. I well remember the nights when he came home in his fits of frenzy. She never said a word, and did everything he bade her. Yet he would beat her so, my heart felt ready to break. I used to cover up my head and pretend to be asleep, but I cried all night.

And then, when he saw her lying on the floor, quite suddenly he would change, and lift her up and kiss her till she screamed and said he smothered her. Mother forbade me ever to say a word of this; but it wore her out. And in all these long years since father died, she has never been able to get well again. And if she should soon die—which God forbid!—I know who it was that killed her.”

The little curato’s head wagged slowly to and from he seemed uncertain how far to acquiesce in the young girl’s reasons. At length he said: “Forgive him, as your mother has forgiven! And turn your thoughts from such distressing pictures, Laurella; there

Read More

The Fury part 3

They went on a while in silence. The sun now stood resplendent above the mountain chain; only the tip of Mount Vesuvius towered beyond the group of clouds that had gathered about its base; and on the Sorrento plains the houses were gleaming white from the dark green of their orange gardens.

“Have you heard no more of that painter, Laurella?” asked the curato—“that Neapolitan, who wished so much to marry you?” She shook her head. “He came to make a picture of you. Why would you not let him?”

“What did he want it for? There are handsomer girls than I. Who knows what he would have done with it? He might have bewitched me with it, or hurt my soul, or even killed me, mother says.”

“Never believe such sinful things!” said the little curato very earnestly. “Are not you ever in God’s keeping, without whose will not one hair of your head can fall? and is one poor mortal with an image in his hand to prevail against the Lord? Besides, you

Read More

The Fury part 2

“Laurella!” cried the priest. “And what has she to do in Capri?” Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her.

“Ha! Arrabiata! goodmorning!” shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato’s presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them.

“Goodday, Laurella!” now said the priest. “How are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?”

“If I may, padre.”

“Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all.”

“There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?” said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.

“You need it more than I,” he muttered, and pushed aside some orange baskets to make room: he was to sell the oranges in Capri, which little isle of rocks has never

Read More

The Fury part 1

Paul Heyse (1830 – 1914)

Heyse was one of the most distinguished and highly respected German writers of the past century. Poet, novelist, dramatist, critic, he “created a new standard of style and artistic finish for the novelette.” The Fury appeared in Heyse’s first collection of stories, which was published in 1855. It is generally regarded as one of the very best stories in the German language.

Reprinted from the volume Tales from the German of Paul Heyse, New York, 1878, D. Appleton & Co., publishers, by whose permission it is here used. The original title is Arrabbiata.

The Fury

The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their bo

Read More