They're all fasting--they're all going to mass--the people working in the fields, our servants, the bright little priests.

To-morrow's Holy Thursday.

From now till Sunday, nobody here will eat anything but a little bread and a few olives.

The bells will cease to-morrow.

If a single church-bell rang in Rome--over this plain, and these mountains--through the whole of Italy--from mass to-morrow till mass on Saturday--a whole nation would feel pain and outrage.