She explains to him what that same Falco has made her suffer. He has frightened away her workmen. He has set himself against her dearest wish.
All of a sudden Passafiore falls on his knees. He dares not go a step nearer to her than he is, but he falls on his knees.
He implores her to understand the importance of it. She does not know, she does not understand who Falco is. Falco is a great man. Ever since Passafiore was a little child he has heard of him. All his life long he has longed to come out to the quarry and live with him. All his cousins went to Falco; his whole race were with him. But the priest had set his heart that Passafiore should not go. He apprenticed him to a tailor; only think, to a tailor! He talked to him, and said that he should not go. It was such a terrible sin to live like Falco. Passafiore had also struggled against it for many years for Don Matteo’s sake. But at last he had not been able to resist; he had gone to the quarry. And now he has not been with Falco more than a year before the latter is quite destroyed. It is as if the sun had gone out in the sky. His whole life is ruined.
Passafiore looks at Donna Micaela. He sees that she is listening to him, and understands him.
He reminds Donna Micaela that she had helped a jettatore and an adulteress. Why should she be hard to a brigand? The Christ-image in San Pasquale gave her everything she asked for. He was sure that she prayed to the Christchild to protect the railway from Falco. And he had obeyed her; he had made Mongibello’s pumice-stone break Falco’s might. But now, would she not be gracious, and help them, that Falco might get his health again, and be an honor to the land, as he had been before?
Passafiore succeeds in moving Donna Micaela. All at once she understands how it is with the old brigand in the dark caves of the quarry. She sees him there, waiting for madness. She thinks how proud he has been, and how broken and crushed he now is. No, no; no one ought to suffer so. It is too much, too much.
“Passafiore,” she exclaims, “tell me what you wish. I will do whatever I can. I am no longer afraid. No, I am not at all afraid.”
“Donna Micaela, we have begged Falco to go to the Christchild and ask for grace. But Falco will not believe in the image. He will not do anything but sit still and wait for the disaster. But to-day, when I implored him to go and pray, he said: ‘You know who sits and waits for me in the old house opposite the church. Go to her, and ask her if she will give me the privilege to go by her into the church. If she gives her permission, then I shall believe in the image, and say my prayers to him.’”
“Well?” questions Donna Micaela.
“I have been to old Caterina, and she has given her permission. ‘He shall be allowed to go into San Pasquale without my killing him,’ she said.”