ute them.

The Viennese columns disappeared and the devils, plenty of them, all with
wings and tails and horns, were shown, as in a vision, working at the
subterranean road. Two were sawing a block of stone; some flew up to use
their hammers and do work in the upper parts of the tunnel; one, who was
perhaps nervous or perhaps more of an artist and wanted to look the part
of a modern Palermitan workman, used his legs to climb a ladder to reach
his work; others were digging up the ground and knocking down the walls;
a devil wheeled an empty Sicilian cart, painted with paladins, rapidly
across the stage and after a moment wheeled it back slowly because it was
now heavily laden with tools and cement; another kept coming with a
basket of stones on his shoulder and emptying them down in heaps. It was
a busy scene and much applauded, especially the cart. The Viennese
columns hid it from view.

The buffo was very proud of this scene, and no wonder.

"There is nothing like it in Dante. But then," he continued, "there
would not be likely to be. What is Dante? As versification, as
language, his poem is fine, splendid, supreme, above all other poetry
books; but as sense, what is it? And then again, why should Dante go
about to make me believe in devils? Me! the ruler of all the devils in
the teatrino! As though I did not know more about devils than anyone.
Dante is the Emperor of Words, but the buffo is the Emperor of Deeds.
And then his obscurity! As a theme for discussion Dante is as obscure as
religion. One says: 'It is so.' While another says: 'It is not so.' As
men discuss a melon and one says: 'Inside it is red.' While another
says: 'Inside it is white.' Who can bear testimony to the truth of
Dante's words? We cannot cut his poem open and see his inner meaning.
Whereas I have cut my inferno open for you. I have shown you what it is
like inside, and you can bear testimony to the truth of the subterranean
road."

The buffo told me that the Christians in Paris were not armed, but they
all got safely away to Montalbano. During the siege, the Pope directed
the defence, and the people, following his commands, threw their
furniture over the walls with the intention of damaging the enemy; but
the Turkish Emperors had made a study of the art of war and taught their
men how to hold their shields over their heads, and thus they warded off
the chairs and tables and were able to creep along under cover, approach
the