"'Let us go into the fields,' said Ida. 'Why won't that do? The Mother of God is equally kind to all, and love is everywhere equally passionate when people are young.'
"That is what we decided upon: that the earth should be our bed and the sky our coverlet!
"At this point another story begins, signors; please pay attention; this is the best story of my long life. Early in the morning of the day before our wedding the old man Giovanni, for whom I worked, said to me like this, his pipe between his teeth, as if he were speaking about trifles:
"'Ugo, you had better go and clean out the old sheep-shed and put some straw in it. Although it is dry there, and no sheep have been in it for over a year, it ought to be cleaned out properly if you want to live in it with Ida.'
"As I worked and sang, the carpenter Constanzio stood in the door and asked:
"'Are you going to live here with Ida? Where is your bed? You must come to me when you have finished and get one from me--I have one to spare.'
"As I went to his house Mary, the bad-tempered shopkeeper, shouted:
"'The wretched sillies get married and don't possess a sheet, or pillow, or anything else! You are quite crazy, you one-eyed fellow! Send your sweetheart to me.'
"And Ettore Viano, tortured by rheumatism and fever, shouted from the threshold of his house:
"'Ask him whether he has saved up much wine for the guests! Oh, good people, who could be more light-headed than these two?'"
In a deep wrinkle on the old man's cheek glistened a tear of happiness; he threw back his head and laughed noiselessly, pawing his old throat and the flabby skin of his face; his arms were as restless as a child's.
"Oh, signors, signors!" said he, laughing and catching his breath. "On our wedding morn we had everything that was wanted for a home--a statue of the Madonna, crockery, linen, furniture--everything, I swear! Ida wept and laughed, and so did I, and everybody laughed--it is not the thing to weep on one's wedding day, and they all laughed at us!
"Signors, words cannot tell how sweet it is to be able to say 'our' people. It is better still _to feel_ that they are 'yours,' near and dear to you, your kindred, for whom your life is no joking matter, your happiness no plaything! And the wedding took place! It was a great day. The whole commune turned out to see us, and everybody came to our shed, which had become a rich house, as in a fairy-tale. We had everything: wine and fruit, meat and bread, and all ate and were merry. There is no greater happiness, signors, than to do good to others; believe me, there is nothing more beautiful or more joyful.