“Lady,” replied the astonished peasant, “I know not who thou art, nor did I call thee!”
“Yes; in thy speech thou didst pronounce my name in invocation, and to those who do that, and deserve it, I give my aid. Follow me!”
The poor man was surprised and bewildered, but he followed, while trembling, the lady.
And she spoke in a voice which was heard in every house far and near in Colle Alto:
“Let him who will come forth without fear, for this good man hath opened unto you the way. But it is only the poor who can do this, because, while they have suffered and starved in their homes, not one of the rich who dwell here have made any effort to relieve the suffering, therefore none of them shall come forth till the snow is gone.”
Then all the poor folk found that they could walk upon the snow, [135] which was a pleasure, but the gentlefolk could not stir a step out of doors till it melted. And it vexed them sorely to stand at their windows and see women and children running merrily over the snow, so that some of them cursed their wealth, and wished that they were of the poor and free.
For fifteen days not a flake of snow disappeared, and then all at once it went away, and the poor, on opening their windows in the morning, found the sun shining, and a warm breeze blowing, which was scented as with roses, and the streets and roofs all as clean as if new. Then all the poor gathered every man a stone, and meeting in one place, they there built a little church (chiesina), and called it the Chapel of the Goddess of the Snow, and adored her as if she had been the Madonna or a saint.
Then for some time, as usually happens, there was great enthusiasm—vie un gran fanatismo—and then again all was gradually forgotten. So with the Goddess of the Snow: as years went by people talked about her less and less, and she was even ridiculed by those who were of evil hearts and souls, such as abuse and ill-treat their benefactors—as was shown by a certain waggoner, who found himself one day many miles afar from any house, when snow began to fall. And with it he began to curse, so as to shock even a sinner; whereupon it drifted round him so deeply that he with his waggon could get no further. And so he kept on blaspheming. His poor starved horses looked at him with meaning, as if calling his attention, and then cast their glances to the wall or a shrine, whereon was depicted an image of the Goddess of the Snow, as if begging him to notice or to appeal to it. And the wretch beholding it, swore worse than ever, saying that she was an accursed (witch).
He had not time to pronounce the word ere he sank down (into the snow), so that only his head remained uncovered. And his horses also were in the same place, but a warm wind began to blow. And so the man remained fast, freezing and starving, for three days, but it did not make him repent, and he swore more than ever.
Then, on the third day, Virgil, the great magician, passed by, and was amazed at seeing the horses quietly feeding on grass in the warm sunshine, while a pleasant breeze was blowing, and close by them a man buried to his neck in the snow. And being questioned, the waggoner replied that he was thus buried for blaspheming the Goddess of the Snow.