# The Literary Magnet/Series 1/Volume 2/Maredata

Any original Italian short story and its author have not yet been identified; it may have been written not translated by J. Gans. The story was also translated into French as "Maredata et Giulio" in L'Italie fantastique (1975), where it was described as a "conte anonyme" ('anonymous tale').
MAREDATA.
A Tradition of the Fourteenth Century.
The sun, ere he sank on the bosom of the ocean, brightened the coast of Calabria with his farewell rays. A sweet twilight shed its softening influence over the earth; the ocean flamed in gold and purple, and seemed adorned like the bed of a royal bridegroom, to receive its glorious guest. The gentle breeze of the west floated warm and mild through the air; and the heat of a bright day had given way to a refreshing balm. With her mysterious veil, the approaching night covered the surrounding objects. A new world appeared to have risen on the well-known shore, and new charms were added to its original grandeur. Yet still this beautiful scene was lifeless, no human form broke its solitude. One might fancy the ocean and sky, enamoured of their own beauty, wished to disclose their charms only to each other, free from the profaning gaze of man.
At length a youth arrives, to enjoy the silent wonders of nature, a youth worthy of seeing the goddess without her girdle. Giulio, the only son of the rich and powerful Count Montefuoco, was now verging into manhood, yet there was none, even in that early age, who could vie with him in either the arts of knighthood, or the accomplishments of the mind. His father, the Chancellor of the kingdom, wished that his son should succeed him in this dignity; he gave him, therefore, an education very extraordinary for a young nobleman of those days. After Giulio had attained a high perfection in the arts of chivalry, he was sent to Rome, where he enjoyed the benefit of being instructed by the most celebrated doctors. The superiority of his intellectual powers made him victorious in his public disputations, and fame had long spread his name all over Italy, when his father recalled him to Naples; for it was the intention of the Count to add the last polish to the education of his son, by initiating him in all the arts of political intrigue and mysteries of government. But the ardent youth, in opposition to his father’s designs, desired first to acquire a share of military glory in the wars, which, at that epoch, filled the beautiful fields of Italy with horror and desolation. The Count then thought it proper to proceed to his magnificent castle on the coast of Calabria: here, surrounded by rich and delightful scenery, where land and sea offered an inexhaustible source of recreation, he hoped the charms of a peaceful life would make a stronger impression upon Giulio’s mind; and here, the Count flattered himself, he would win his son by gentle persuasion to yield to his wishes; for he was master of the arts of eloquence, and possessed surprising influence over the mind.
Since Giulio’s arrival at the Castle Montefuoco, he delighted in swimming through the gentle waves flowing along the flowery shore. The heat of the season heightened the pleasure he took in those exercises, and soon the stormy element owned his power; for the water seemed gratefully to yield to his efforts, and proud of bearing his god-like form. The more his skill increased, the stronger his attachment to the element ​grew. He imagined he found a sort of animation in the floods, which played so softly round his breast, and already at noon he felt impatient for the coolness of the evening, to immerge in the bosom of the waters.
Giulio walked slowly along the shore, towards some bushes, from which a pleasant lawn stretched itself into the sea. Here he left his garments, and renewed his delightful sport. Never, he thought, the floods had played so warmly, so lovingly, round his limbs. It was as if out of every little wave, there rose a flattering voice; the waters, sparkling in changing colours in the last rays of the sun, appeared to him like a thousand mirrors, presenting smiling eyes and divine forms to his enchanted soul. But, lo! how he started, when suddenly he beheld close to him a woman of such heavenly beauty, that if he at first in his dreams had taken the phantoms of his imagination for beings of substance, he now mistook reality for a vision. But the idea of the dangerous situation wherein the fair one was placed, recalled his senses; he clasped his arms round her slender limbs, a grateful fascinating glance gave him strength, he swam towards the shore, where he soon beheld his delightful burthen in safety; here he left her in order that he might procure his garments. Having thrown his mantle over his shoulder, he rejoined the fair being, who had, in the mean time, repaired the disorder of her dress, which, in the splendour and brightness of its appearance, seemed to consist of the silver foam of the sea. On his approach, she fell on her knees and embraced his feet, with looks full of gratitude and love. He raised her hastily, and full of respect, asked to know whom he had had the happiness to save, and whence she came? A tear clouded her eye; she shook her head, laid her finger on her mouth, as if to say she was deprived of the power of speech, and pointed in answer to his question with her white hand to the sea. He addressed her in different languages, but although she seemed to understand him perfectly well, she remained silent.
Giulio led the unknown lady to the Castle. The family received her with politeness; but the Countess and her daughters, envious of the more than human beauty of the stranger, treated her with a degree of reserve bordering on coolness. They contrived, nevertheless, to give her the assistance her misfortune seemed to require. Giulio’s heart was now the seat of the most ardent passion; the image of the silent lady never left his fancy for a moment. He endeavoured, in a thousand different ways, to induce her to utter a single sound, but all in vain; neither was she able to answer to his questions written in different idioms. “Do you write no language?” asked he—No! was the sense of her replying gesture. The mother of Giulio made some contemptuous reflections respecting the education of the mysterious lady, but she, by her gentle and humble behaviour, attempted to soften the haughty spirit of the Countess, and succeeded. She even gave proof of a more refined education, in once taking a lute, and drawing from it the most celestial tones. All the deep feelings, which her eyes expressed, seemed now to have found a corresponding language. The sounds fell on the listeners’ ears like an unknown mysterious harmony of a better world, and filled their hearts with delight and rapture. Inclining over her lute, she often ​fixed her eyes full of the tenderest love on Giulio, and a tear stole slowly over her cheek. As still she remained silent, it became necessary to give her a name, and Giulio called her Maredata, which, in Italian, signifies, given by the sea.
From the first moment, the old Count, partial to beauty, had been the declared champion of the silent lady, and he even did not blame the unconcealed passion of Giulio. Nevertheless, he was strangely surprised when once the youth declared, with a fire and vehemence that would admit of no contradiction, that he could no longer exist without the possession of Maredata. The wise Count knew that passion would become more violent by opposition, and, as he hoped that Giulio, charmed by the ties of love, would forget every warlike idea, he did not withhold his consent to their union. The church sanctified their love, and Giulio, in the possession of Maredata, thought himself the happiest mortal. A sweet boy soon increased their mutual felicity. Giulio accustomed himself in time to her silence, and understood so perfectly well her eloquent gestures, that he almost imagined her inaudible language to be the true idiom of love. Maredata had, since her first appearance, always shown a great aversion to the sight of the sea. She covered her eyes, and would rapidly turn away whenever she approached it. The family of the Count thought this to be in consequence of the danger to which she had been exposed in this element, and therefore had assigned for the young couple remote apartments, which looked towards the land-side of the castle. Giulio, on the contrary, felt, since he had found Maredata, an increasing pleasure in swimming through the softly murmuring waves. Once, as he returned from the chace, and prepared to depart again to enjoy a refreshing sea-bath, his sister, Manuela, met him, and with an appearance of great anxiety, drew him into her lonely closet. “My dearest brother,” said she, “I tremble to impart to you a discovery I have made, for it may prove destructive to your happiness, but the fear of seeing you in the snares of some supernatural and malicious being, overcomes all other considerations. Know, then, that about an hour ago I passed Maredata’s apartments, when I heard a tuneful voice singing to the accents of the lute. I entered suddenly, and found Maredata, who, blushing at my sudden appearance, seemed extremely embarrassed, and relapsed immediately into her accustomed silence. “Now,” added Manuela, “what a false heart must her’s be, if she, able to speak, can be silent for years to you, to you, the founder of all her happiness! What can be her aim, but to destroy your body and your soul?”
Giulio, deeply affected, hastened to Maredata, requesting an explanation of this extraordinary event, and conjured her to break her long silence. But Maredata, with tears in her eyes, presented him their child, and seemed by the sweetest caresses to make amends for her disobedience. Her loving husband was soon appeased. He entreated her to accompany him on a walk, and, perhaps without intention, he led her to the sea-coast. When he became aware of his mistake, it was too late to return, for the ocean lay before them, brightened by all the lustre of an Italian moon-light. The effect which the sight of the ele​ment made upon Maredata, was as unexpected as wonderful. Her eyes sparkled with delight, she spread out her arms, uttered a cry of joy, and threw herself into the waves. Giulio stood amazed, but soon he beheld her, who rose smiling and nodding at him, and swimming with an astonishing agility and grace. Her slender form appearing through the floods and the silver light of the moon, seemed not to be that of a mortal. Love and anxiety filled her husband’s bosom, and he followed her into the sea to protect her in the dangerous element. If ever the waters had appeared sweet to him, it was now. He thought a soft music sounded from the depths; alluring voices invited the couple to sink in the mysterious bosom of the floods, and indeed, in the arms of Maredata, he sunk deeper and deeper, till he almost lost his senses, when Maredata suddenly threw out a cry of despair, and seizing him with both her arms, moved towards the shore, where she deposited him on the very spot he once had placed her. Soon her endeavours and her caresses called him again to life. “Who art thou?” cried he, “wonderful being, who art thon?” But Maredata, taking his hand, fled with quick steps, and encircled her veil fast round her ears as if to avoid the seducing sound of the roaring waves, which rose higher and higher, pursuing the beautiful fugitive. Arrived at the castle, he repeated his entreaties to her to solve this mystery. But Maredata clasped her lily arms round him, and her soft expressive eye asked him, “Am I not thine? Art thou not happy? Why askest thou more?” And indeed Giulio seemed to be satisfied: he even promised, he never would ask her again, and consented to lead her shortly to another castle in the heart of the country, where she would not be troubled by the sight of the sea. The joy which sparkled at this assurance in her eyes, was his sweet reward, and once more a happy husband, he pressed his happy wife to his heart.
But next day his parents requested his company, and his father addressed him thus: “My son, we were walking yesterday on the border of the sea, when we beheld the extraordinary scene which happened with Maredata. You easily see that you never saved her out of the waves, since she possesses such a wonderful power over the element. Manuela has told us, she has heard her sing, and notwithstanding your entreaties, she maintains an obstinate silence. This must be broke, for the sake of your immortal soul: conjure her, command her to speak, and if she still remains silent, you must separate.” Giulio, on the contrary, after having discoursed a long time with his parents, asserted, that he was himself perfectly happy, that such a soft affectionate being as Maredata, could never endanger his soul, and finished by asking his parents’ leave to go with his family to their castle in the interior of the country. After some reflection, the Count granted his request: but, added he, before you depart for the country, you will accompany me to Naples, where I want to present you to the king, afterwards you may go. Giulio promised to obey, and in the space of a few days the Count and his family, Giulio, Maredata, and their child, proceeded to Naples.
Soon after their arrival, Giulio was presented to the king; his reception was not according to his expectations. The old Count, seeing that ​he could not prevail on his son to force Maredata to disclose her secret, discovered the whole to the king, who had engaged himself to end this affair. He therefore received Giulio with hard words; reproaching him with a sinful alliance with a fairy, and commanded him, under pain of disgrace, to learn immediately the truth from Maredata, and threatened even to burn his wife, as a being devoted to the demon. At these words of the king, Giulio lost his patience; a spirit of rage seemed to have taken possession of his soul. He hastened home, rushed into the apartment of his wife, whom he found playing with her child in her arms. He brandished his sword over her head, and with flaming eyes, and thundering voice, exclaimed “Thou cursed witch, who art thou? Speak, or instant death,”—but he could not finish his sentence, for she fell into his arms, and cried out, “Now indeed is it time to speak! Now indeed we must part, and part for ever!” A flood of tears checked her words, but she overcame her emotion, and with a sweet voice she entreated her amazed husband, who, at the first sound of her voice had lost his rage, to sit down near her, and then she proceeded: “Know then, my only love, that I was born in the depth of the ocean. Once, as thou wert swimming near the shore, I beheld, I loved thee. But our laws will not permit us to speak to any mortal, or if we do, his life is forfeited to the powerful spirits of the deep. Oh! how difficult is it to be mute when love fills the heart! The word would part from the lips, yet I was silent, and now, that I have once spoke to thee, I must depart, and my child too. For the revenge of the spirits is dreadful, and all of us would soon be sacrificed to their wrath should I delay any longer. Farewell, Giulio! from this moment, I take leave of joy, of love, and happiness! Farewell!” She embraced him, and would depart, but Giulio, trembling like a murderer at the sight of the gory wound of his victim, rose suddenly, and seizing the child, cried out, “Never! never, shalt thou depart; never shalt thou carry off my child!” But she gazed on him with a long, deep look, that chilled his blood to his very heart; then she began to sing in such mournful, pensive sounds, that he lost his senses.
When he recovered, she was gone. The inmates of the castle had seen her proceed towards, and leap into, the sea. From that moment a still melancholy preyed upon Giulio. He said not a single word to his amazed parents. Long time elapsed before he was able to leave the room, till he one evening walked down to the coast to his accustomed bathing-place. His anxious parents beheld him a long time swimming, when suddenly the sea glowed in a thousand colours, and Giulio disappeared. The beautiful phenomenon lasted for hours, but Giulio was seen no more. A tradition prevailed among the people, that the lustre of the sea had been a signal of the reunion of the faithful lovers.
J. G—ns.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.