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126 228 . the miracles of antichrist
are taken up the stairs incessantly. And there come
salutary poems and congratulatory telegrams. It
will never end.
The poor bronze emperor on Piazza Bologna, the
poor homely Charles the Fifth, who is thin and
wretched as San Giovanni in the desert, has in some
incomprehensible way a bouquet in his hand.
When the students standing on Quattro Canti
close by, hear of this, they march up to the emperor
in orderly procession, illumine him with their torches
and raise a cheer for the old despot. And one of
them takes charge of the bouquet to deliver it to the
great socialist.
Then the students march down to the harbor.
Long before they arrive there, their torches are
burned out, but what do they care ! They come
with their arms about each other’s necks, loudly
singing, and ever and anon breaking off the song to
cry : " Down with Crispi! Long live Bosco ! " So
the song begins anew, but is again interrupted,
because they who cannot sing throw their arms about
the singers and kiss them.
Fraternities and guilds throng from quarters of
the town where the same trade has been conducted
for more than a thousand years. There come the
masons with band and banner, there come the
mosaic-workers, there come the fishermen.
When they meet they salute each other with the
banners. Sometimes they stop and make speeches.
They speak for the five who have been set free; the
five martyrs that the government has at last given
back to Sicily. And the whole throng of people
cries: "Long live Bosco! Long live Da Felice!
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