Pia de' Tolommei [pp. 206-212; system: 206-211]

PIA DE' TOLOMMEI.
to church," goes one day to hear a celebrated preacher who has
come to Siena (perhaps a reminiscence of the religious revivals
which were so frequent among the impulsive, passionate Sienese);
he is converted, or at least conscience-stricken enough to leave
the city, the scene of his former wickedness, on pretext of hunting, At the same time Nello and Pia's father resolve to pay her
one final visit, and set out for the Maremma; on their way they
meet the hermit bringing the message from the dying woman.
While conversing with him they hear cries of some one in distress, and close by discover Ghino, mortally wounded by a wild
beast; he confesses that he has basely calumniated Nello's wife:
"Set her free, for she is innocent." Nello and Tolommei hasten
on, but when they come to a stretch of sand half a mile from
the castle they hear the tolling of a passing bell. Nello turns
and sees twelve lights and twelve women winding their way
along; in their midst is a bier: all is over, and he arrives too
late. "So I close the song and end my verses of the doleful Pia
de Tolommei."
Such is the history of the legend of this Sienese lady. The
few lines in Dante in which her story is enshrined have been
enough to preserve her memory. "Ricorditi di me," she seems
to have said to her countrymen, and in their manner they have
remembered her. They still throng to the theatre, year after
year, and witness the representation of her history; the story of
her sorrows, sentimental or realistic, is still constantly purchased.
The legend of Pia has thus been handed down for centuries; it is
less pleasant to think that the Maremma, which "unmade her," remains almost what it was in her day, the home of malaria, a hateful blot in this garden of the world, "the real Italia irridenta,"
to use the words which an Italian minister recently applied to
some parts of the southern provinces. The last century saw the
draining of the pestilential Val di Chiana; the predecessor of the
last Grand Duke of Tuscany did much for the improvement of
certain districts, but much still remains to be done before the
Maremma will cease to be what it is. At some time more or less
distant this will no doubt be effected. Modern science will send
forth its knight to the combat with this terrible yet vulnerable
enemy, to deliver, not one distressed princess, but a whole popu lation of fever-stricken peasants. This desolate country may
then become what it once was, as rich and fertile as any province
of Italy, and where such a story as that of Pia would never seem
to have been possible. The scene will be transformed and the
legend only will remain, to move by its pathos, and to throw a
warning light upon what was in many ways an evil time.
[May,
2I2