Speaker 1: The deposition by Luigi Cabuana. I know nothing at all
about it, your Honor, nothing at all. How can that be?
It all happened within fifty yards of your shop, Nothing
at all, I said, in an offhand way, but really
next to nothing. I'm a barber, your honor, and Heaven
be praised. I have custom enough to keep me busy
from morning till night. There are three of us in
the shop, and what with shaving and combing and hair cutting,
not one of the three of us has time to
stop and scratch his head. And I, least of all.
Many of my customers are so kind as to prefer
my services to those of my two young men, perhaps
because I amuse them with my little jokes. And what
with lathering and shaving this face and that, combing the
hair of so many heads, how does your honor expect
me to pay attention to other people's affairs? And the
morning I read about it in the paper, why I
stood there with my mouth open, and I said, well,
that was the way it was bound to And why
did you say that was the way it was bound
to end? Why? Because it had ended that way? You see,
on the instant I called to mind the ugly face
of the husband every time I saw him pass up
or down the street. One of those impressions that no
one can account for. I used to think that fellow
has the face of a convict, But of course that
proves nothing. There are plenty who have the bad luck
to be uglier than mortal sin, but very worthy people
all the same. But in this case I didn't think
that I was mistaken. But you were friends. He used
to come very often and sit down at the entrance
to your barber shop, very often, only once in a while,
Your honor, by your leave neighbor, he would say. He
always called me neighbor. That was his name for everybody.
And I would say, why, certainly the chair stood there empty.
Your Honor understands that I could hardly be so uncivil
as to say to him, no, you can't sit down.
A barber shop is a public place, like a cafe
or a beer saloon. At all events, one may sit
down without paying for it, and no need to have
a shave or hair cut either, by your leave, neighbor.
And there he would sit in silence, smoking and scowling,
with his eyes half shut. He would loaf there for
half an hour an hour, sometimes longer, he annoyed me.
I don't deny it. From the very start there was
a good deal o talk? What sort of talk? A
good deal o talk? Your honor knows better than I
how evil minded people are. I make it a practice
not to believe a syllable of what I'm told bout
any one, good or evil. That is the way to
keep out of trouble. Come, Come, what sort of talk?
Keep to the point, what sort of talk? Why? One
day they would say this, and the next day they
would say that, And by harping on it long enough,
they made themselves believe that the wife, Well, your honor
knows that a pretty wife is a chastisement of God.
And after all, there are some things you can't help
seeing unless you won't see. Then it was he, the husband.
I don't know nothing about it, your honor, nothing at all.
But it is quite true that every time he came
and sat down by my doorway or inside the shop,
I used to say to myself, if that man can't see,
he certainly must be blind. And if he won't see,
he certainly must be Your honor knows what I mean.
There was certainly no getting out of that out of that,
Perhaps your honor can help me to the right word dilemma, dilemma, Yes,
your honor, and baisy, the notary who comes to me
to be shaved uses another word that just fits the case,
begging your honest pardon. Then, according to you this don necosia. Oh,
I won't put my finger in the pie. Let him
answer for himself. Everyone has a conscience of his own,
and Jesus Christ has said, judge not lest you be
judged well. One morning, or was it in the evening,
I don't exactly remember. Yes, now comes back to me
that it was in the morning. I saw him pass by,
scowling and with his head bent down. I was in
my doorway sharpening a razor. I had a curiosity. I
gave him a passing word as well as a nod,
adding a gesture that was as good as a question.
He came up to me, looked me straight in the face,
and answered, haven't I told you that sooner or later
I should do something crazy and I shall neighbor? Yes,
I shall. They are dragging me by the hair, let
me cut it off. Then I answered, jokingly, jamake him
forget himself. So he had told you before had he
How did he happen to tell you before? Oh, your
honor knows how woods slip out of the mouth at
certain moments. Who pays attention to him? For my part,
I have too many other things in my head. Come, come,
What had he been talking about when he told you before?
Great Heavens, give me time to think, your Honor, What
had he been talking about? Why about his wife? Of course?
Who knows someone wants to put a flea in his ear?
It only needs half a word to ruin a poor
devil's peace of mind. And that is how man lets
such woods slip out of his mouth. As sooner or later,
I shall do something crazy. That's all I know nothing
else about it, Your Honor. And the only answer you
made him was a joke. I could not say to him,
go ahead and do it? Could I? As it was,
he went off shaking his head. And what idea he
kept brooding over after that? Who knows? One can't see
inside another man's brain. But sometimes when I heard him
free in his mind, then he used to free his
mind to you? Why, yes, to me and maybe to others. Besides,
you see, one bears things and bearest things, and bearest
things and at last, rather than burst with them, one
frees one's mind of the first man who comes along.
But you were not the first man who came along.
You used to call at his house only as a barber,
your honor, only when Don Necossio used to send for me,
And very often I'd get there too late, though I
tried my best, And very likely you sometimes went there
when you knew that he was not at home on purpose,
your honor, no, never, And when you found his wife alone,
you allowed yourself calumnies, Your honor, Who dare say such
a thing? Does she say? So? It may be that
once or twice a few words escaped me in jest.
You know how it is when I found myself face
to face with a pretty woman. You know how it is,
if only not to cut a foolish figure. But it
was very far from a joke. You ended by threatening her.
What calumnies threaten her? What for a woman of her
stamp don't need to be threatened. I would never stoop
so low. I'm no schoolboy. Passion leads men into all
sorts of folly. That woman is capable of anything. She
would slander our Lord himself to his face. Passion I
at my age. I'm well on in the forties, your honor,
and many a gray hair. Besides, many a folly I
committed in my youth like everyone else. But now, besides,
with a woman like that, I was no blind man,
even if Donn Cassio was. I knew that that young fellow,
poor fool, he paid dearly for her. I knew that
he had turned her head. That's away. With some women,
they go their own gate. They're off with one and
on with another, and then they end by becoming the
slave of some scallywag who robs and abuses him. He
used to beat her, your honor, many and many a time,
Your honor, and I for the sake of the poor
husband whom I pitied. Yes, that's why she says I
threatened her. She says so, because I was foolish enough
to go and give her a talking to the day
that don Cassio said to me, I shall do something crazy.
She knew what I meant, at least she pretended that
she did. No, this is what you say, Yes, Johanna,
I remember now exactly what I said. I'll spoil your sport,
I told her, if it sends me to the galleys.
But I was speaking in the name of the husband.
In the heat of the moment one falls into a pot.
The husband knew nothing of all. This was I to
boast to him of what I had done. A friend
either gives his services or else he doesn't. That's how
I understand it. Why were you so much concerned about it?
I ought not to have been your honor. I have
too soft a heart. Your threats became troublesome, and not
threats alone, but promise after promise, and gifts besides a
ring and a pair of ear rings. That is true.
I won't deny it. I found them in my pocket
quite by chance. They belonged to my wife. It wasn't extravagance,
but I did it to keep poor don Nicasio from
doing something crazy. If I could only win my point,
I told myself, if I could only get that that
young fellow out of the way, then it would be
time enough to say to Donn Cassio, my friend, give
me back my ring and ear rings. He would not
have needed to be told twice. He's an honorable man,
don Ne Cassio. But when she answered, you keep them yourself,
I don't want them. You began to beg her, almost
in tears. Ah, your hona, since you must be told,
I don't know how I managed to control myself. I
had so completely put myself in the place of the husband.
I could have strangled her with my own hands. I
could have done that very same crazy thing that Donn
Cassio thought of doing. Yet you were very prudent. That
is evident. You said to yourself, if not for me,
then not for him the lover I mean not don
N Cassio. Then you began to work upon the husband,
who up to that time had let things slide, either
because he did not believe or because he preferred to
bear the lesser evil. It may be that some chance
word escaped me. There are times when a man of
honor loses his head. But beyond that nothing, your Hona,
don Nicassio himself will bear me witness. But don Nicassio
says he too, he has failed me. He has turned
against me a fine way to show his gratitude. He
has nothing to be grateful for. Don't excite yourself. Sit
down again. You began by protesting that you knew nothing
at all about it, and yet you knew so many things.
You must know quite a number more. Don't excite yourself.
You want to drag me over a precipice, Your Hona,
I begin to understand men who are blinded by passion
walk over precipices on their own feet. But then your
honor imagines that I myself, I imagine nothing. It is
evident that you were the instigator, and something more than
the instigator too. County, County, your Hona, that same evil
you were seen talking with the husband until quite late.
I was trying to persuade him not to I said
to him, let things alone, since it's your misfortune to
have it. So what difference does it make whether he's
the one or somebody else? And he kept repeating somebody else, yes,
but not that rotten beast his very words, Your Honna,
you stood at the corner of the adjoining street, lying
in wait. Who saw me there? Who saw us? Your Honor,
you were seen. Come make up your mind to tell
all you know. It will be better for you. The
woman testifies that there were two of them, but in
the dark she could not recognize the other one. Just
because I wanted to do a kind act, this is
what I have brought on myself by trying to do
a kind act. You stood at the street corner. It
was like this, your honor. I had gone with him
as far as that, but when I saw it was
no use to try to stop him. It was striking eleven.
The streets were deserted. I started to leave him indignantly,
without a parting word. Well, what next do I need
tongs to drag the words out of your mouth? What next? Why?
Your honor knows how it is at night under the
lamp light? You see, then you don't see, that's the
way it is. I turned around. Don Cassio had plunged
through the doorway of his home, just by the entrance
to the little lane, a cry, and then nothing more.
You ran forward. That was quite natural. I hesitated on
the threshold. The hallway was so dark. You couldn't have
done that. The woman would have recognized you by the
light of the street lamp. The lamp is some distance off.
You went in, one after the other. Which of you
shut the door? Because the door was shut immediately In
the confusion of the moment, two men struggling together. I
could hear them gasping. I wanted to call for help,
And then a fall, and then I felt myself seized
by the arm. Run, neighbor, run, this is no business
of yours. It didn't sound like the voice of a
human being. And that was how, that was how I
happened to be there, a helpless witness. I think that
don ne Cassio meant to kill his wife too, But
the wretched woman escaped. She ran and shut herself up
in her room. That is I read so afterwards in
the papers. The husband would have been wiser to have
killed her first. Evil weeds have better to be torn
up by the roots. What are you having that man? Right?
Your honor? Nothing at all, as you call it, just
your deposition. The clerk will read it to you now,
and you will sign it. Can any harm come to
me from? I am innocent? I've only said what you
wanted me to say. You have tangled me up in
a fine net like a little fresh water fish. Wait
a moment, And this is the most important thing of all.
How did it happen that the mortal wounds on the
dead men's body were made with a razor? Oh, the
treachery of don Nicassio. My god, my god, yes, your honor.
Two days before no one can think of everything no
one can foresee everything. He came to the shop and
said to me, neighbor, lend me a razor. I have
a corn that is troubling me. He was so matter
of fact about it that I did not hesitate for
an instant. I even warned him, be careful. You can't
joke with corns. A little blood and you may start
a cancer. Don't borrow trouble, neighbor, he answered, But the
razor could not be found. You must have brought it away.
I who would remember a little thing like that. I
was more dead than alive, Your honor, where are you
trying to lead me with your questions? I tell you
I am innocent. Do not deny so obstinately. A frank
confession will help you far more than to protest your innocence.
The facts speak clearly enough. It is well known how
passion maddens the heart and the brain. A man in
that state is no longer himself. That is the truth,
your honor. That wretched woman bewitched me. She is sending
me to the galleys. The more she said no, no, no,
the more I felt myself going mad from head to foot,
as if she were pouring fire over me. With her. No, no, no,
but now I do not want another man to suffer
in my place. Yes, I was the one. I was
the one who killed him. I was bewitched, Joe. I
am willing to go to the galleys, but I am
coming back here if I have the good luck to
live through my term. Oh the justice of this world.
To think that she goes scot free, the real and
only cause of all the harm. But I will see
that she gets justice. That I solemnly swear with these
two hands of mine your honor. In prison, I shall
think of nothing else. And if I come back and
find her alive, grown old and ugly, it makes no difference.
She will have to pay for it. She will have
to make good. I know, no no, but I will
say yes, yes, yes, And I will drain her last
drop of blood if I have to end my days
in the galleys, and the sooner the better