Part 12 (1/2)

”Aprite,” said Samson.

Then several messengers came, sometimes singly, sometimes two together, and once four soldiers came and said--

”Va via, Sansone,” but they only got themselves into trouble, for he took them all up and threw them back into the castle and we heard each of them fall separately.

”Aprite,” said Samson, ”datemi il mio genitore.”

Then there came a comic dwarf; Samson looked at him scornfully, and saying--

”Cosa vuoi, Insetto?” took him up, twirled him round and round and threw him away.

Then Pasquino and Onofrio came on; Samson, after doing them some damage, but not so much as they deserved because they were favourites with the audience, pa.s.sed by them and disappeared in the direction of the castle gate. We heard him knock and we heard the movement within, indicating serious alarm, while the masks made comments in dialect. This was repeated and repeated with a roaring crescendo until, with a crash, the walls of the castle fell upon the stage--a bushel of stones--and Samson entered carrying the castle gates under his left arm and his father on his right, and the delighted audience applauded as the curtain fell.

After this we came away, which I have often regretted since, because these marionettes were the best I had seen. They were worked by artists who understood the handling of repose and the value of small things well placed. Occasionally, it is true, the figures moved too much and were unintentionally comic, but wonderful effects were produced by very slight movements. When a puppet was delivering a tirade, the listener, standing as motionless as one of the knights at Catania, would sometimes turn his head almost imperceptibly, or s.h.i.+ft his weight from one leg to the other, or place his right hand on his hip with his arm a-kimbo. The action not only expressed contempt, acquiescence, or boredom as the case required, but vivified the whole scene, spreading over it like the ripples from a pebble thrown into a pond.

If I had been as strong as Samson I would have stayed to the end, for I knew he could not be wearing all that loose, brown hair merely to toss it back when he was fighting. The Philistines would come later on and bribe the lady to entice him and see wherein his great strength lay, and he would be enticed and, forgetting how she had betrayed him over the riddle, would tell her everything; for he had a guileless, generous nature, and every time he was deceived thought it an exceptional case and no rule for future conduct. And presently the lady would make him sleep upon her knees and a young man would come with a pair of scissors and crouch under her mantle and cut off his locks and drop them into a shallow round box upon the floor, as in Carpaccio's picture in Milan, and she would wake him up, exclaiming--

”The Philistines be upon thee, Samson,” and he would rise powerless and be taken and bound in fetters of bra.s.s.

Nevertheless, the marionettes, with all the romance of their story and the unexpected way in which their movements stimulate the imagination, would certainly fail without the wizardry of the voice of the speaker, for the voice is the soul of the marionettes. And as the cobbler from Mount Eryx found his opportunity in the Death of Bradamante at Trapani, so the voice at Palermo would surely have done something with the Blinding of Samson--something perhaps not unworthy of _Total Eclipse_.

It communicated to us the dignity and beauty of Samson's character; when he was observing the industrious bees it was full of pity for the dead lion, and we knew that the poor beast had had every chance of escape and had only been killed after a delay that was longer than it was judicious.

And so we knew that he did not kill the soldiers till his great patience had been exhausted and the voice was full of sorrow for their death.

Why should he be so constantly driven to use his strength? Why could he never use it without harming some one? Why was he born into a world where men played on his simplicity and women charmed him to destruction?

These were the riddles that confused Samson. It seemed to him that he was no better than the Arabian giant who held the Princess of Bizerta in thrall--that cruel bully who cared not how many he killed, nor who they were, and believed every man to be as wicked as himself. Samson, each time his patience was exhausted, hated himself for what he had to do, yet no experience could shake his faith in that melancholy but attractive swindle--the ultimate goodness of man. Both Samson and the giant were as mistaken as they were powerful, but Samson, by virtue of his weakness, was the stronger man, for, while the giant's brutality aroused our hatred, Samson's n.o.bility compelled our love.

CHAPTER XV--THE CONVERSION OF THE EMPEROR CONSTANTINE

Being alone one autumn evening in Palermo, about a year and a half after I had seen Samson, I returned to the teatrino and found it open. On asking the young man at the door whether the performance had begun and whether there was room for me, he pulled aside the curtain at the entrance and disclosed the stage full of fighting paladins and the auditorium half empty. I paid three soldi and took a seat. After the first act, I congratulated the young man at the door on the performance and told him it was not the first time I had been to his theatre, and that I was sorry to see it so empty.

”There is no one here,” he agreed; ”do you know why? It is because to-night will die Guido Santo, a marionette very sympathetic to the public, they cannot bear to see his end. But it is the last night and to-morrow they will come because the story will begin all over again.”

Feeling I could bear to witness the death of Guido Santo, I returned to my seat. Before the curtain drew up on the last act there entered a page who took his hat off with his right hand and stood politely bowing until the audience should be ready to listen to what he had to say. He then recited the programme for the next evening, telling us that all who came would see the baptism of Costantino, Imperatore del Mondo. As soon as he had gone, Pasquino and Onofrio came on and in dialect comically commented upon the programme.

At the end of the entertainment, after Guido Santo was dead and the angel had come down, taken his white soul out of his mouth and carried it up to heaven, I resumed conversation with the young man at the door, and soon perceived that he was a fine natural actor who will commit a crime if he does not go on the stage as a buffo. He told me that the theatre is open all the year round; they do not make much money in the summer because the people prefer to be in the open air, but in the winter--! and his gestures indicating how they sat shoulder to shoulder and craned their necks to see over one another's heads and wiped the perspiration off their foreheads and scattered it upon the floor, were rapid, precise and eloquent. He remembered the performance of _Samson_ and the crowd and, as soon as he saw I was interested, became like a puppy that has found some one to play with. If I would come to-morrow he would show me all the marionettes and tell me all the secrets of the business.

I went and was introduced to his brother, his three sisters and his father who is the proprietor of the show. It was the father's voice that I had heard in _Samson_, the buffo and his brother help in working the marionettes and in cleaning and repairing them after the performance, the sisters do the housekeeping, speak for the women and make the dresses.

They told me a great deal that I wanted to hear. For instance, they knew all about Michele and the Princess of Bizerta and told me that she is the sister of Agramante, King of Campinas and Emperor of Yundiay, and her name is Fulorinda di Nerbof di Bizerta; the name of her wicked Arabian giant is Alaballak Aizan. I had asked Pasquale in the teatrino at Trapani about them, but he had never heard of them. These professional marionettists at Palermo had a poor opinion of the teatrino at Trapani and, from what I told them about it, said it could only be an amateur affair. They were particularly contemptuous of the management for allowing the words to be read out of a book. They ought to be improvised. At Palermo the only play that is ever read is _Samson_, which was written by a Sicilian, and even in that the comic episode of the masks with the riddle of Rosina is a home-made, unwritten interpolation.

Pharaoh has nothing to do with the Egyptian Pharaohs. Faraone is his private name and he is the king of the Philistines. The name of the paladin is Acabbo and he is a Philistine and not a Scotchman; but they excused me for falling into the error, and showed me that many of the knights wear stuff sufficiently like a Scotch plaid to deceive a mere Englishman. Moreover, Scotch knights do come into the story; Carlo Magno sends Rinaldo off to fetch recruits and he returns with an army of Scotch paladins under Zerbino, the Prince of Scotland. Samson ranks with Christians because he is on the right side in religion and that is why his skirt was really a skirt. Acabbo ranks with Turks because he is on the wrong side in religion and that is why he wears trousers. The lady is Tanimatea, but Dalila is brought on afterwards and it is she who cuts Samson's hair. The buffo nearly wept when I told him I had gone away without seeing the operation. However, he explained how it was done: his long brown hair is a wig and is pulled off when she uses the scissors.

They told me all about the story, or rather stories, of the paladins.

First there is an _Introduction_ beginning with the conversion of the Emperor Constantine, and pa.s.sing rapidly through his son Fiovo and his descendants to Pipino King of France and father of Carlo Magno. It lasts about a month and is followed by--

I. _The Story of the Paladins of France_ with Carlo Magno, Orlando, Rinaldo, Gano di Magonza and many others. This lasts about six months and ends with the defeat and death of Orlando and the paladins at Roncisvalle. It is followed by--

II. _The Story of the Sons of the Paladins_ with Palmerino d'Oliva, Tarqua.s.so, Scolimmaro and the crusades. This lasts about three months and is followed by--

III. _The Story of Balocco_ with the valiant Paladins Trufaldino, Nitto, Vanni Caccas, Pietro Fazio, Mimico Alicata and the giant Surchianespole.

This lasts about six months, and is followed by--