"Now, which of them can he mean?"
"Perhaps O'Marzariello?"
"Or O'Cuccolillo?"
"I never thought of him," says the good-natured individual. "Here, boy,
run and tell O'Cuccolillo that a foreign gentleman wants to give him a
cigar."
By the time O'Cuccolillo appears on the scene the crowd has thickened.
You explain the business for the fiftieth time; no - he is Luigi, of
course, but not the right Luigi, which he regrets considerably. Then the
joke is made clear to him, and he laughs again. You have lost all your
nerve, but the villagers are beginning to love you,
"Can it be O'Sciabecchino?"
"Or the figlio d' O'Chiappino?"
"It might be O'Busciardiello (the liar)."
"He's dead."
"So he is. I quite forgot. Well, then it must be the husband of
A'Cicivetta (the flirt)."
"He's in prison. But how about O'Caccianfierno?"
Suddenly a withered hag croaks authoritatively:
"I know! The gentleman wants O'Tentillo."
Chorus of villagers:
"Then why doesn't he say so?"
O'Tentillo lives far, far away. An hour elapses; at last he comes, full
of bright expectations. No, this is not your Luigi, he is another Luigi.
You are ready to sink into the earth, but there is no escape. The crowd
surges all around, the news having evidently spread to neighbouring
hamlets.
"Luigi - Luigi. . . . Let me see. It might be O'Rappo."
"O'Massassillo, more likely."
"I have it!
