Bareheaded men, bald heads glistening with sweat, heads of thick, straight hair, heads of curly black hair, women’s heads covered with floral woollen kerchiefs, or yellow, red and green spotted scarves, moved past. A lame old man, a woman with two children, three old women, a boy with a yellow flower in his mouth, moved slowly by to the sound of chanting. A cat with a small white face and big blue eyes stretched out its claws, then jumped on to the wall opposite Giacobbe’s house.

‘Too late,’ Brontu said, waving to it. They all laughed noisily. Giacobbe asked the men to leave and when they refused to go, he pretended to chase them away with a stick dipped in whitewash. The tough, haughty men ran hither and thither through the rooms, up and down the stairs, jostling each other, pushing, screaming, and laughing like children. They ran out into the street, and Giacobbe locked the door of the mansion behind them. Then, in a crowd, they returned to the tavern. Brontu and the shepherd went home at dusk, taking turns to prop each other up.

Martina stood alone in the portico, her hands under her apron, reciting her rosary. When she saw the two men she neither moved nor spoke but shook her head gently, pushing out her lip as if to say, ‘You’re a fine sight.’

‘Where’s Giovanna?’ cried Brontu.

‘With her mother.’

‘That old witch. She’s always there, dammit.’

‘Don’t shout, my son.’

‘Can’t I shout in my own house?’ he bawled. Turning towards the yard he yelled, ‘Giovanna! Giovanna!’

Giovanna appeared at once at the door of the cottage and came across the yard looking terrified. But as she came nearer the expression on her face changed to one of scorn and disgust. When she reached the two men she glared at them in hatred. Giacobbe laughed to himself, and Brontu’s ears went red with anger.

’What’s the matter? Are you in pain?’ said Giovanna.

‘He soon will be, I expect!’ exclaimed Giacobbe.

Brontu’s lips were moving but he could not speak, and the anger passed as it had come, without reason.

‘I want you with me,’ he babbled. ‘We weren’t seen together at all today. What were you doing with your mother? Who was there?’

‘No one, for goodness sake,’ she replied, bitterly. ‘Who do you think would come to our house?’

‘So you’ve abandoned the sheepfold,’ broke in Martina. ‘Is that how you look after the master’s business? You filthy scoundrel. There are thieves about.’ Giacobbe got to his feet, stiff and pale. He would have hurled himself at the old woman, but Giovanna, fearing what he might do, pushed herself between them.

Giacobbe sat down again, without a word, but he had so terrified Giovanna that she remained standing defensively beside her mother-in-law. Then it was Brontu’s turn.