Was there another man? Why should there not be? And yet was
there? In her continued absence, the question came back
persistently, and scarcely contributed to his peace of mind.
A few days later, nothing discouraged, "Would you like to have
a good laugh, Signorino?" Marietta enquired.
"Yes," he answered, apathetic.
"Then do me the favour to come," she said.
She led him out of his garden, to the gate of a neighbouring
meadow. A beautiful black-horned white cow stood there, her
head over the bars, looking up and down the road, and now and
then uttering a low distressful "moo."
"See her," said Marietta.
"I see her. Well--?" said Peter.
This morning they took her calf from her--to wean it," said
Marietta.
"Did they, the cruel things? Well-?" said he.
"And ever since, she has stood there by the gate, looking down
the road, waiting, calling."
"The poor dear. Well--?" said he.
"But do you not see, Signorino? Look at her eyes. She is
weeping--weeping like a Christian."
Peter looked-and, sure enough, from the poor cow's eyes tears
were falling, steadily, rapidly: big limpid tears that trickled
down her cheek, her great homely hairy cheek, and dropped on
the grass: tears of helpless pain, uncomprehending endurance.
"Why have they done this thing to me?" they seemed dumbly to
cry.
"Have you ever seen a cow weep before? Is it comical, at
least?" demanded Marietta, exultant.
"Comical--?" Peter gasped. "Comical--!" he groaned . . . .
But then he spoke to the cow.
"Poor dear--poor dear," he repeated. He patted her soft warm
neck, and scratched her between the horns and along the dewlap.
"Poor dear--poor dear."
The cow lifted up her head, and rested her great chin on
Peter's shoulder, breathing upon his face.
"Yes, you know that we are companions in misery, don't you?" he
said. "They have taken my calf from me too--though my calf,
indeed, was only a calf in an extremely metaphorical sense--and
it never was exactly mine, anyhow--I daresay it's belonged from
the beginning to another man. You, at least, have n't that
gall and wormwood added to your cup. And now you must really
try to pull yourself together. It's no good crying. And
besides, there are more calves in the sea than have ever been
taken from it. You'll have a much handsomer and fatter one
next time. And besides, you must remember that your loss
subserves someone else's gain--the farmer would never have done
it if it hadn't been to his advantage. If you 're an altruist,
that should comfort you. And you must n't mind Marietta,--you
must n't mind her laughter. Marietta is a Latin. The Latin
conception of what is laughable differs by the whole span of
heaven from the Teuton. You and I are Teutons."