Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - XXX. The Festa di Sant’Antonio
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sermon from the pulpit in commemoration of
Sant’Antonio and his miracles, each miracle
illustrated and made visible by a special gesture
appropriate to the occasion. Now the orator
would raise his hands in ecstasy to the Saints
in Heaven, now he would point his index to the
floor to locate the underground dwellings of the
damned. Now he would fall on his knees in
silent prayers to Sant’Antonio suddenly to spring
to his feet on the point of precipitating himself
from the pulpit, to smite down an invisible
scoffer with a blow from his fist. Now he would
bend his head in rapturous silence to listen to
the happy chants of the angels, now, pale with
terror, he would put his hands to his ears not
to hear the grinding of the teeth of il Demonio
and the cries of the sinners in their cauldrons.
At last, streaming with perspiration and
prostrated by two hours of tears and sobs and
maledictions at a temperature of 105 Fahrenheit, he
would sink down on the floor of the pulpit with
a terrific curse on the Protestants. 12 o’clock.
Great excitement on the Piazza. Esce la
processione! Esce la processione! The procession
is coming out. First came a dozen small children,
almost babies, hand in hand. Some wore short
white tunics and angel wings like Raphael’s putti.
Some, entirely naked and adorned with garlands
of vine-leaves and wreaths of roses round their
brows, looked as if detached from a Greek
bas-relief. Then came the Figlie di Maria, tall
slender girls in white robes and long blue veils
with the silver medal of the Madonna round their
necks on a blue ribbon. Then came the bizzocche,
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