ced Fiovo,
embraced Sanguineo, embraced Captain Mucioalbano, embraced the comic
soldiers, embraced Silvestro again and made him bishop over all
bishops--that is Pope of Rome. They were all dancing and embracing one
another indiscriminately as the curtain fell.

CASTELLINARIA

CHAPTER XVI--A GREAT ACTOR

Last time I was at Castellinaria there came to the town for a week a
company of Sicilian actors. I was afraid the dialect would be beyond me,
but Peppino assured me that it would matter very little if it were,
because I should understand the gestures, and he promised to come with me
and give me any explanation I wanted. So we went to the theatre the
first evening. He was right about the gestures which were wonderfully
expressive and, as for the dialect, it may have been because he
interpreted the long speeches that I found the first two acts of _La
Morte Civile_ rather dull. He admitted that it was so, but things would
improve as soon as Giovanni appeared.

In the third act a haggard, hunted creature, in a peasant's dress which
he had borrowed or stolen, wandered in among the actors; Peppino
whispered that he had escaped from prison. I could not take my eyes off
him; every movement, every attitude, every gesture was full of beauty,
nobility and significance, and his voice was a halo of romance. I
thought no more about leaving the theatre. The part has been played by
many famous actors, but the long account of how and why he killed his man
can never have been more finely delivered. I saw him do the deed. I saw
him turn and gaze upon the body while he wiped the blood off the knife
and wrung it from his hands. He sat on a chair during the whole speech
and I was surprised into believing I understood every word, whereas I
understood none, for it was all in the dialect of Catania and Peppino,
who was as much carried away as I was, forgot to interpret. And when,
still sitting on his chair, he came to his escape from prison, he seemed
to lift the roof off the theatre and to fill the place with freedom and
fresh air.

Peppino, before his uncle died, thought of going on the stage and passed
a year with Giovanni and his company in Catania and on tour, he therefore
knew him quite well and at the end of the play took me round to his
dressing-room. It was Carlo Magno in his palace receiving a couple of
friendly sovereigns, though we were none of us dressed for our parts. I
told him that he was the greates