Castellinaria, and Other Sicilian Diversions Part 6

"I will tell you presently," replied the buffo, "we must first go upstairs."

As we went up I asked after the singing and he promised to take me to the house of his professor to hear him have a lesson. Papa and Gildo had preceded us and we found them with the young ladies, Carolina and Carmela, and the child, Nina, who is as much a buffa as her brother Alessandro is a buffo. In a moment, the air was thick with compliments.

PAPA: And how well you are looking! So much fatter than last year.

MYSELF (_accepting the compliment_): That is very kind of you. You are all looking very well also. Let me see, Buffo mio, how old are you now?

ALESSANDRO: Guess.

MYSELF: Twenty-five.

ALESS: Bravo. I completed my twenty-fifth year just three weeks ago.

And you?

MYSELF: I have also completed my twenty-fifth year, but I did it more than three weeks ago.

ALESS: I see. You have twenty-five years on one shoulder; and how many more on the other?

MYSELF: Twenty-five.

ALESS: It seems to me you are making a habit of attaining twenty-five.

Are you going to do it again?

MYSELF: I have begun, but I shall put off completing it as long as possible. If you want to know my exact age I will give you the materials for making the calculation. I went to the Great Exhibition of 1851.

GILDO: Tell us about it. I have often seen pictures of it in the ill.u.s.trated papers, but I have never spoken to anyone who was there. Was it very beautiful? Were there many people? Did you see Queen Victoria?

MYSELF: I can't tell you much about it. I was asleep and when I woke up I was so hungry that I cried till my mother took me into a side room and gave me my dinner. Then I went to sleep again until they took me home.

I have been to many exhibitions since, but I never enjoyed one so much.

You see, this one did not bore me.

ALESS: You should not have had your dinner there. I went to the exhibition in Palermo and the food in the restaurant was not wholesome.

GILDO: Yes, but you must remember that Alessandro is very particular about his food. He can only eat the most delicate things and must have plenty of variety.

MYSELF: I did not have much variety in those days. I took my restaurant with me, the one at which I was having all my meals.

GILDO: Oh well, if one can afford to travel like a prince--

MYSELF: Gildo! I was not six weeks old and--

PAPA: I have now made the calculation and I find you are my senior by six years. I hope that when I have caught you up I shall carry my age as lightly as you carry yours. Do I explain myself?

ALESS (_to me_): I think you look older. I should have said you were a well-preserved man of sixty-four or (_stretching a point in my favour_) perhaps sixty-five.

MYSELF (_feeling sure that here must be another compliment_): Thank you very much.

BUFFO: Not at all; it does you great credit.

GILDO: Now me, please. Ask me my age.

MYSELF: Well, Gildo, and how old are you?

GILDO: A hundred and seventy-four next birthday.

MYSELF: Santo Diavolo! You don't look it. You must have been very busy since last autumn when, if I remember right, you were only twenty-one.

CAROLINA (_tapping my right arm to attract my attention_): Signor Enrico, Signor Enrico, why do you not ask me my age?

CARMELA (_tapping my left arm_): Signor Enrico, Signor Enrico, you have not asked me my age.

MYSELF: Because I know how old you are. You are both of you the age that charming young ladies always are, and you do not look a day older.

NINA: I'm fourteen.

CARO and CARM (_comparing notes_): Did you hear what he said? He said we are charming young ladies.

NINA (_insisting_): I'm fourteen. Do I look it?

MYSELF: I can compliment you on looking a little older. Since last year you have grown out of being a child, but you have hardly yet grown into being a young lady like your sisters, though you are quite as charming.

ALESS (_taking the opportunity to begin_): First you must know that Carlo Magno is now dead and the Pope is shut up in Paris and is being--

CARO: Signor Enrico, Signor Enrico, do you drink marsala in London?

MYSELF: Marsala is known in London, but we do not drink it every day as you do in Palermo.

GILDO: In England people drink tea; everything is so different in England.

MYSELF: That is quite true, Gildo. In England what is like that (_holding my hand out with the palm up_) in Sicily is like this (_holding it with the palm down_:_ Peppino Pampalone taught me this gesture_).

GILDO: And that is why in London the people walk on their feet, whereas in Palermo they walk on their hands, as you have no doubt observed.

ALESS: Si; e ecco perche in Londra si mangia colla bocca, ma qui, in Palermo, si mangia nella maniera che ti faro vedere da un diavolo nel teatrino. But I was telling you about the Pope. He is shut up in Paris, where he is guarding the Christians against the--

CARO: Signor Enrico, do you ever see the sun in London?

GILDO: Yes, they see the sun in London, but only on three days of the week; on the other days they send it to be cleaned.

CARM: Then it is not the same sun as ours?

GILDO: It is a different sun. Our sun is made of gold and remains always bright. The sun of London is made of copper and, being constantly exposed to the air, it tarnishes more rapidly even than the breastplate of Carlo Magno, and you know what a lot of cleaning that wants.

PAPA: All this is very interesting, but listen to me. I have something to say. When I was a boy at school--are you attending? Very well, then, I may proceed. When I was a boy at school, we had a professor who told us that in consequence of--

CARO: Signor Enrico, Signor Enrico, what is the English for Grazie?

MYSELF: It means Thank you.