70 
MORTADELLO 
 
I want to bathe—I want to doff my flesh and skin, 
And soak my sultry bones in water to the chin. 
And here I’m tied by the leg !  Where have you been to-day ? 
ALESSANDRO.  I wasted half an hour, I am ashamed to say, 
With an astrologer—who by his art infers 
A most unlucky day for the prison governors ! 
GOVERNOR.  Oh God, yes !  Hear that noise ? 
ALESSANDRO. 
 
No.  What ?  that murmuring ? 
GOVERNOR.  That’s a crowd somewhere. 
ALESSANDRO. 
Yes ? 
GOVERNOR. 
 
There’ll be more rioting. 
I wonder what about. 
ALESSANDRO. 
I really can’t conceive 
Why, in this weather, too, folks aren’t content to leave 
Things quiet. 
GOVERNOR. 
Well, they won’t.  Look, here’s a lunatic ! 
Christ !  with a lamb smeared red to wave on a long stick ! 
 
Enter on canal a gondola, with a man on its bow 
waving a flag. 
 
THE GONDOLIER.  The martyred maiden !  Men of Venice, 
mark me well ! 
The Angel of the City’s murdered in her cell ! 
 
 
 
[The gondola hastens onward. 
GOVERNOR.  What next ?  The fools !  I wish I knew why it’s 
allowed. 
I’d string the devils up in a row ! 
ALESSANDRO. 
 
Here comes the crowd ! 
GOVERNOR.  So much for bathing !  Off, my Sandro, or they’ll 
skin you ! 
I must give orders. 
[He retires hastily from the window.