Christmas passed by,—­thank heaven the municipality has driven away those most detestable pifferari who played on their discordant bagpipes at every corner for a fortnight, and nearly drove me erazy,—­and the Befana, as we call the Epiphany in Rome, was gone, with its gay racket, and the night fair in the Piazza Navona, and the days for Nino’s first appearance drew near.  I never knew anything about the business arrangements for the debut, since De Pretis settled all that with Jacovacci, the impresario; but I know that there were many rehearsals, and that I was obliged to stand security to the theatrical tailor, together with De Pretis, in order that Nino might have his dress made.  As for the cowl in the last act, De Pretis has a brother who is a monk, and between them they put together a very decent friar’s costume; and Mariuccia had a good piece of rope which Nino used for a girdle.

“What does it matter?” he said, with much good sense.  “For if I sing well, they will not look at my monk’s hood; and if I sing badly, I may be dressed like the Holy Father and they will hiss me just the same.  But in the beginning I must look like a courtier, and be dressed like one.”

“I suppose so,” said I; “but I wish you had taken to philosophy.”

CHAPTER VI

I shall never forget the day of Nino’s first appearance.  You may imagine whether we were in a state of excitement or not, after all these years of studying and waiting.  There was much more trouble and worry than if he had written a great book, and was just to publish it, and receive the homage of all the learning and talent in Europe; which is the kind of debut I had hoped he would make in life, instead of putting on a foolish dress and stamping about on a stage, and squalling love songs to a packed house, making pantomime with his hands, and altogether behaving like an idiot,—­a crowd of people ready to hiss him at the slightest indication of weakness, or to carry him on their shoulders if they fancied his voice to their taste.

No wonder Nino was sad and depressed all day, and when he tried his voice in the afternoon thought it was less clear than usual, and stared at himself in the looking-glass, wondering whether he were not too ugly altogether, as I always told him.  To tell the truth, he was not so ugly as he had been; for the months with the contessina had refined him singularly, and perhaps he had caught a certain grace of manner from the baroness.  He had grown more silent too, and seemed always preoccupied, as well he might be:  but he had concealed his affair with the Lira family from me until that day, and I supposed him anxious about his appearance.

Early in the morning came De Pretis, and suggested that it would be better for Nino to take a walk and breathe the fresh air a little; so I bade him go, and I did not see him again until the afternoon.  De Pretis said that the only cause for anxiety was from stage fright, and went away taking snuff and flourishing his immense cotton handkerchief.  I thought a man must be a fool to work for years in order to sing, and then, when he had learned to do it quite well, to be afraid of showing what he knew.  I did not think Nino would be frightened.