“Like a pack of bloodhounds that, having chased a hare in vain, return to their master, humiliated, heads hanging and tails between their legs, the bravi returned to Don Rodrigo’s palace on that night of tricks and treachery.”
To underscore that image, another engraving by Gonin, with a “C” for the first word, “Come” (Like):
Povero Griso!
“‘It ain’t easy,’ answered Griso, one foot still on the first step, ‘it ain’t easy getting reprimanded after trying your loyal best to do your duty and risking your neck while you’re at it.’”
“L'è dura, - rispose il Griso, restando con un piede sul primo scalino, - l'è dura di ricever de' rimproveri, dopo aver lavorato fedelmente, e cercato di fare il proprio dovere, e arrischiata anche la pelle.”
In his voice I hear the Lombard accent, the shortened “ü,” the regional use of the enclitic pronoun “le,” which surrounded me during the many years I lived in Milano and Como. Which gave me the green light to go full-on colloquial.
See how the rumors fly, and how no one can keep a secret:
“One of the greatest consolations in life is friendship. And one of the consolations of friendship is having someone in whom to confide a secret. But friends don’t come in pairs, like married couples. Each of us generally has more than one, which forms a chain whose end no one can trace.”
Side note: Attilio calls the mayor a “galantuomo,” a word that recurs throughout the novel, but with a variety of meanings. “Man of honor” comes to mind, in the way that mafiosi indicate their respect for each other. Not to mention Mark Antony’s ironic description of Brutus as an “honorable man” in Julius Caesar. Today we might say “stand-up guy” or “mensch”—too anachronistic for this novel. I opted for “honest man” here, which is the literal meaning of the word, with the heavy irony that it implies.
I loved the description of Perpetua keeping a secret: "like a loosely hooped old barrel filled with a gurgling, bubbling, fermenting young wine, of the tap didn't blow off, every stave was bound to creak and leak and drop so much that, soon enough, you'd be able to name the wine inside."
I also was intrigued by Griso's speech, which is an interesting mix of regret and defensiveness. Not a good apology by today's standards, but puts him and Rodrigo on more even footing, to my reading. And was further delighted that I could generally parse the Italian original, even with my own bare beginnings of learning the language!
The line that stuck out today was from the tavern-keeper who “if he was to be believed, he did not even remember whether he had seen people that night, and was careful to say that a tavern is like a seaport, with people coming in and out.”
A repeat of the phrase he told Renzo - right before he blabbed everything to the bravi.
One thing I think the author is trying to explain is that everyone has their own honor code (influenced by their upbringing/their fears) and adhering to that erroneous sense of honor causes a lot of chaos.