econd merely to introduce the stupid
fellow whose part was nearly all gesture and, as I afterwards
ascertained, was taken by Giovanni's brother, Domenico. He may have
spoken twenty words, he was too stupid to speak more; the others spoke a
good deal, but, except that they had been told beforehand, as to each
act, about as much as the reader has been told about the second, all they
said was impromptu, so that each repetition, like a Japanese netsuke,
would be a unique work of art.

Remembering how continually Sicilians use gesture in ordinary life, it
will be understood that in such a play the actual words are of secondary
importance. Giovanni, in working the marionettes had become familiar
with all the types that in different grades of society reappear in all
plays--the good king, the proud tyrant, the traitor, the faithful friend,
the young lover, the noble mother and so on; and, as the words were
always improvised, except in such plays as _Cavalleria Rusticana_, which
are exceptional with the Sicilian marionettes, his memory had become
stored with conventional phrases suitable for all the usual stage
emergencies and always ready for impromptu delivery. His fellow-actors
were also familiar with them, having heard the phrases over and over
again, and seen the types with their appropriate gestures from their
early youth as members of the marionette audience.

It is claimed for this kind of impromptu acting that the actors are freer
than when speaking words they have learnt, and can therefore behave with
more naturalness. It is the difference between delivering an extempore
speech and reciting one that has been learnt--the difference between
"recitare a soggetto" and "recitare col suggeritore." So great is the
freedom that an actor may introduce anything appropriate that occurs to
him at the moment, and the others must be ready to fall in with it.
Peppino told me that one night in Catania, after the performance, he was
sitting in the cool with Giovanni's family on the pavement and in the
road, outside the theatre, when an old beggar stopped to beg. He had
come a long way, he knew no one in the town, he had nothing to eat,
nowhere to sleep, no money. The mother gave him a penny, Giovanni gave
him another, his brother, Domenico, another--every one gave something.
The beggar, seeing all that wealth lying in the hollow of his hand, and
knowing that he was now safe for a few days, burst into tears and turned
away speec