As night fell, the Unicorn filled to overflowing. At a small table in the back, a group of sailors played the age-old game of telling tales for beer. Tonight, as on many nights before, they entertained each other with tales of love. They had just finished wiping their eyes and stifling the laughter that accompanied the Greek's tale of a misplaced sheep, when a young ruddy-faced man leaned solemnly across the table and said: "Caruso, aye mate, tell 'em your story..." The Italian rested his arms on the table, and sighed."The truest love I have ever known? Well, my friends, it was never mine to know. It belonged to two young people in my village: Vincenzo and Gianetta. Their story had all of the things we have mentioned before, well, perhaps not the sheep, but I will spare you the details of outraged family and fortune.
I saw the lovely Gianetta just twice in my lifetime. The first, a fine spring day in the plaza as I strolled along with my friend Vincenzo. We walked through the market, and at once, he grabbed my arm and whispered: "It is she!" I turned to look, and saw only this girl, not so pretty, but the air around her held such a light. When she saw us and smiled in our direction, I knew: it was she.
Early the next season, God saw Vincenzo and I board to sail with diMarco on the Marza." At this, many of the sailors around the table shifted in their seats, they knew this tale all too well. "We sailed for a year or more before the English caught us. In that year, Vincenzo worked without complaint-- his hands growing new calluses to cover those he'd held from tilling the land near our village. He gratefully traded the fresh food and air of our native Italy for all the foul things that can be found in the hold of a ship. On night watches he would sing us to sleep with songs of his lovely Gianetta: the sun and smell of grass in her hair, the wine of her lips... as the year drew on, we all began to claim Gianetta as our own." Caruso paused to take a drink. The men at the table were lost in thoughts of their own Gianettas, Janes, and Marys, but slowly their attention returned to Caruso.
"April that year, I had led a party ashore near Gibraltar to get fresh water. As the ship was anchored, Captain Thornton pulled alongside the Marza--we saw the firefight from our place on shore. We saw the English sink the Marza. No one survived.
When I saw Gianetta the second time, I had all but forgotten her. A further year at sea had washed my memory clean. But, as I found myself at home and in that same plaza--I saw her. She saw me as well, and despite how I had changed, my face black as any Moor, she recognized me. She smiled so sweetly and walked towards me. I was lost. All I could say to her was "He died bravely."
She made a sound, it was like the gates of Hell opening up to swallow yet another soul, and she fell upon me. She beat me until I tasted the salt of my own blood, and then she hit me again. One of her brothers reached us, and pried her off of me, but still she howled. The poor brother carried her off over his shoulder and out of the plaza. I never saw her again."
The table remained quite for a moment more before the Greek asked him: "What happened to her?"
Caruso shrugged slowly and replied: "I heard that she had been taken home and locked in her rooms. She braided a rope from her wedding linens and hung herself. When I heard this, I went to port and signed on to the first ship that would take me. If those were the torments of the land, I would take my chances at sea."Caruso finished his beer and overturned the cup onto the table. The rest of the sailors followed suit, as did all of the men within earshot of the back table. Lily walked slowly by and placed a full 'winners pint' in front of Caruso. She placed her hand on his shoulder and softly said: "Aye, you've earned it tonight, mate."