Certain Persons Have Told Me That If You Are Of A Prying Disposition,
Now Is The Time To Observe Amorous
Couples walking hand in hand into the
gloom - passionate young lovers from different villages, who have looked
forward to this
Night of all the year on the chance of meeting, at last,
in a fervent embrace under the friendly beeches. These same stern men
(they are always men) declare that such nocturnal festivals are a
disgrace to civilization; that the Greek Comedy, long ago, reprobated
them as disastrous to the morals of females - that they were condemned by
the Council of Elvira, by Vigilantius of Marseilles and by the great
Saint Jerome, who wrote that on such occasions no virgin should wander a
hand's-breadth from her mother. They wish you to believe that on these
warm summer nights, when the pulses of nature are felt and senses
stirred with music and wine and dance, the Gran Madre di Dio is adored
in a manner less becoming Christian youths and maidens, than heathens
celebrating mad orgies to Magna Mater in Daphne, or the Babylonian
groves (where she was not worshipped at all - though she might have been).
In fact, they insinuate that - - -
It may well be true. What were the moralists doing there?
Festivals like this are relics of paganism, and have my cordial
approval. We English ought to have learnt by this time that the
repression of pleasure is a dangerous error. In these days when even
Italy, the grey-haired cocotte, has become tainted with
Anglo-Pecksniffian principles, there is nothing like a little
time-honoured bestiality for restoring the circulation and putting
things to rights generally.
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