A Dec. 11, 1898 letter sent from Lucia Fazio, in New Jersey, to Alessandro Sisca, in New York

Translation

Dear Mr. Sisca,

It hurts me beyond words that you won't find me tomorrow when you wake up, because I'll be gone for some time. And, I hope I won't see you again, and that you won't try to see me. I don't want to think that you believe me to be crazy, even now, because before calling me crazy or delinquent, you'll need to examine your own conscience, and you yourself will say, I'm the one who pushed her to tell me this.

If I had even dreamt that you would think this way, I would have blown my brains out, before telling you that I love you. I curse the day that you arrived from Boston, I curse the day that I learned to trust you. I, who had sworn to myself never to tell you how my heart felt about you. It's been this way, not for one day, nor for one or 5 months, but for 3 long years and a half that I have had saintly feelings for you. I felt almost happy to love you secretly, to cry, to feel jealousy, to feel like I was going crazy, to feel, in short, an indescribable torment. If I told you all that I suffered for you, I would make you shudder. Only then would you stop calling me delinquent.

And yet, I had the strength to insult you, to call you crazy, and other names. And, I didn't feel as sad as I do now. And, I wouldn't suffer as I have suffered for ten days, that is since Thursday, December 1, that day that will remain indelible for me. Oh! You cannot imagine how much I suffer! If I suffered before, I now suffer ten times more. I don't know if this is fate, or a curse that weighs relentlessly over me. I don't know why God has wished that no heart be mine, that no loyalty, no brotherly affection, no decent and generous soul could understand me.

And yet, I had the illusion of having found it; I even thought I had found brotherly affection, a heart that could understand me, that would have encouraged me, that would have helped me forget all the ingratitude I had received and all the betrayals I had felt. But it was nothing but a dream. The affectionate words that I heard were not the chosen words of a man, but a phantom. Yes, a phantom, who cruelly told me he loved me like a brother, who said he would protect me and vindicate me, a phantom who would never have loved another woman, who would have dedicated himself totally to me. Oh! How happy I was to meet a trusting noble heart. I cannot begin to tell you what I felt for those 10 days, pity, love, jealousy, I myself don't know to what I owe this. It seemed to me that my heart was almost born now.

And how many times I said to myself: How is it that I reached twenty years of age without loving someone? And I almost regretted believing that men are ungrateful. Oh. How wrong I was. No, no heart can love me, no man can understand me. So be it. From this evening on, my heart will be colder than before, and I'll be even more disbelieving, more contemptuous. I'll keep a closer, more powerful eye on men. Oh, how cruel I will be. And this is because of you, signore, because of you that I will become wicked. You, whom after making me confess my affection for you, that I kept closely to myself. After you insulted me, mistreated me, believed me to be guilty and hypocritical.

And last night, you said to me. No woman has loved me, not even you... My God! How ungrateful the human heart is. Oh my God, I would be so grateful to you if you let me lose my mind. Only in this way could I forget all that I have suffered for 4 long years. And all that I have suffered over these 10 days for you, Signore. Tonight, when I said to you, Don't touch my hand so that my mother would not see us, you turned into a devil. Oh how you have mortified me. I understand you. This is just an excuse for you to distance yourself from me. Because, you thought you had found some sorrentina or some Mariuccia who would have followed your every wish.

You, you cannot love in a saintly, ideal way. I pity you, because it's not you but the women that you have known that have transformed you into what you are. Oh! How I cried and how much I cried for you, whom I would have wanted to come clean on loving saintly. I didn't cry only when I met you, no! I also cried when I read your verses, how many tears flowed from my eyes. And how many times I prayed to that God that you mock. I who has felt pure affection for you, and you insult me.

You hated me for telling you not to kiss me. Do what you will. Hate me, insult me, think of me as a kept woman, anything you wish. This is the last letter that I'm writing to you. I beg you to return my letters and not to speak to anyone about me. I ask you this in honour of your family. Live happily, and I hope you will meet a woman who will make you a happy man. Though we will be far apart, don't forget my words of advice as they are the words of a sister.

Farewell Farewell

Lucia Fazio

Close Window