The Prince Read Free

origins, on his great-grandmother’s side, in his behavior: his actions were always measured, and he was reluctant to reveal his emotions. Licata’s humor and “stiff upper lip” suggested the Anglo-Saxon strains of his great-grandfather, a member of the venerable English aristocracy to whom he owed his title.
    Ninì Trovato had shaken the town’s peaceful atmosphere. Several children ran gleefully around the crier trying to touch that fascinating instrument, likely an ancient relic from the Napoleonic campaigns. A number of people went to their windows, among them Peppino Ragusa, the district physician. He was even more impoverished than his fellow townsmen, who were rarely able to pay him for his miraculous interventions.
    Interrupting his examination of a little boy afflicted with lice, he moved to the window to hear the words of the proclamation. The boy’s mother, curious, went over as well, though she respectfully remained a step behind him.
    The two looked on as Ninì approached the center of the piazza and in a loud voice began his incredible announcement.
    The words bellowed by the town crier made Dr. Ragusa shudder.
    Ninì pounded his drum again and repeated the odious edict: “Hear ye! Hear ye! Hear ye! . . . The mayor decrees that all Jews must be reported to the authorities and recorded in the civil status registry. And he demands that all residents of the town belonging to the Jewish race appear at the registry office.”
    On October 6, 1938, the Fascist Grand Council had issued the infamous “racial laws,” a series of decrees intended to exalt the Italian race as pure Aryan. This was the apparent justification, subscribed to, moreover, by ten scientists of dubious principles. But the entire world realized that it was a concession that Premier Benito Mussolini had made to his friend Adolf Hitler of Nazi Germany, who just a few months earlier had come to Rome on an official visit. The aim was to crush the Jewish people. Their Italian citizenship was taken away, mixed marriages were nullified, and the race was declared unfit for military posts and public employment, as well as for several professions, such as teacher, lawyer, journalist, and magistrate.
    For a segment of Italians, including Dr. Ragusa, the future promised to be more wretched than the already bleak present.
    â€œThose poor Jews still haven’t finished atoning for their deicide,” observed Don Antonio Albamonte, stopping in front of Mimmo Ferro’s tavern.
    Not even on this score did he and his friend the prince find themselves in agreement. Licata, in fact, shook his head. “Don Antonio, don’t you understand that the Jews are just a scapegoat? It’s been that way for centuries, and it will always be so.”
    â€œStill, they’re a greedy people,” the priest concluded as, trailed by the prince, he entered the tavern. The monsignor purchased his Tuscan cigars only from Mimmo Ferro. The entrance of the two interrupted the excited voices of the men playing Tocco . Everyone turned toward them. Those who were seated rose as a sign of respect, and those wearing caps took them off. Don Antonio asked Mimmo for his Tuscan cigars and glanced at the little crowd of players.
    â€œYou see, Prince, the entire philosophy of our people is summed up in this game. Never mind Aristotle and your Voltaire.” Mimmo handed the priest five cigars wrapped in wax paper. Don Antonio took one out, lit it, and inhaled a few puffs with pleasure.
    â€œThis is one of my many vices.” He smiled with false modesty.
    â€œThe cigar is a perfect symbol of pleasure,” remarked the prince. “Exquisite, yet it leaves us unsatisfied.” He smiled ironically and headed toward the door, followed by the monsignor. “But what did you mean to tell me about that game?” Licata prodded him.
    The priest waved his hand in a sweeping gesture, as if to embrace the houses, the