d'Avilla's head which rolled about
on the stage. Immediately there came three Turks; Ferrau stabbed each as
he entered--one, two, three--and their bodies encumbered the ground as
the curtain fell.

It rose as soon as the bodies had been removed and disclosed Ferrau
stamping about alone. There came three more Turks; he stabbed them each
as they entered--one, two, three--and their bodies encumbered the ground.
Then there came three knights in armour; Ferrau fought them all three
together for a very considerable time and it was deafening. He killed
them all and their bodies encumbered the ground with those of the last
three Turks. It was a bloody sight that met the eyes of Galafrone who
now entered.

The curtain fell, while Galafrone had the corpses cleared away, and rose
again on the same scene which was the ante-chamber of Angelica's
bedroom--for somehow we were now in her father's dominions, and it was
she who had sent the knights and the Turks to kill Ferrau before he could
approach her. Then there was an interview between Ferrau and Galafrone
on the subject of Angelica. The knight, having made her a widow, now
wished to make her his wife, the king saw no objection and promised to
use his influence with his daughter.

The scene changed to Angelica's bedroom; her bed was at the far end of
the stage with a patchwork quilt over it, but there was no other
furniture in the room except a sofa near the front. Her father brought
her in and I, knowing that she was to kill herself personally and that
this must be her last entry, examined her closely and detected a string
passing through her right hand and ending in the hilt of a dagger
ostentatiously concealed in her bosom. Of course I knew what that meant.
Her father, true to his promise, began to urge Ferrau's suit, saying that
he had forgiven him for having killed Medoro. But Angelica had not
forgiven him, and moreover she hated Ferrau with his bloodshot eyes and
his explosive manners. She made a long speech, admirably delivered by
the cobbler and as full of noble sentiments as a poem by Mrs. Browning,
then, suddenly drawing her dagger with the string, she stabbed herself
and fell dead on the couch, exclaiming--

"A rivederci."

It was an extremely neat suicide and her father concluded the
entertainment by weeping over her body.

These marionettes were not nearly so comic in their movements as the
life-sized ones in Catania, not because they were better mana