Note: Translator Pauline Bancroft Flach died in 1966, less than 70 years ago. Therefore, this work is protected by copyright, restricting your legal rights to reproduce it. However, you are welcome to view it on screen, as you do now. Read more about copyright.
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10 THE MIR A CLES OF ANTICHRIST
variety artists. She had the English wrestlers and
the American magician. But what was that
compared to all the rest: the silvery moonlight and the
place and its memories? Those poor people seemed
to feel like the Greeks and leaders of fashion when
they once more took their places on the
stone-benches of their own old theatre and from between
the tottering pillars looked out at the most beautiful
panorama.
Those poor people did not stint; they shared all
the pleasure they received. They did not spare
jubilation; there was no stopping their hand-clapping.
The performers left the platform with a wealth of
praise.
Some one begged the English signorina to appear.
All the adoration was meant for her. She ought to
stand face to face with it and feel it. And they
told her how intoxicating it was, how elevating,
how inflaming.
She liked the proposal. She immediately agreed.
She had sung in her youth, and the English never
seem to be afraid to sing. She would not have done
it if she had not been in a good mood, and she
wished to sing for those who loved her.
She came as the last number. Fancy what it was
to stand on such an old stage! It was where
Antigone had been buried alive and Iphigenia had been
sacrificed. The English signorina stepped forward
there to receive every conceivable honor.
It stormed to meet her as soon as she showed
herself. They seemed to wish to stamp the earth to
pieces to honor her.
It was a proud moment. She stood there with
Etna as a background and the Mediterranean as
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