Val. Poor chap ! With that stomach ?

Don F. Yes, sir, with this stomach, I go on foot and
hold my head up. What astonishes me, is that Sigr. Stefano
Baldi . ..
Val. . . . Goes in a carriage and hangs his down.
Don F. He ought to hang his head, seeing that he can't
keep his engagements.
Ter. You are letting your tongue run away with you, sir.
Don F. I don't enjoy being rude to people, but if it's a
question of what I've made with the sweat of my brow,
I don't mince matters.
Val. Did you make Napoleon's frame with tlie sweat of
your brow ?

Don F. Certainly.
The little dialogue thus taken from its place may
not seem a very dramatic one, but it shows on the stage
some of the power that Giacosa showed, in a higher
degree, in ' Come le Foglie ' — of making the thoughts and
words of ordinary people interesting upon the stage.
The simple wifeliness of Teresa, who can stop in the middle
of more important matters to rebuke her husband's
cousin for disobejnng the former's not very admirable
directions, and defend these, clearly in spite of herself;
and the shrewdness of Valentino, his roughness, and



88 PLAYS AND PLAYERS IN MODERN ITALY

desire to use his tongue, which alwa57S yield to an
almost chivalrous gentleness where Teresa is concerned :
all this is surely excellently like life. Valentino does not
prove, on further acquaintance, to be only a marionette
with tricks to produce a certain effect. He pleases us,
largely because he is ineffective. Here we have him
with the servant (Act II. sc. i).
