Castellinaria, and Other Sicilian Diversions

by Henry Festing Jones

Between compari there is such complete trust and devotion that no request is ever refused; there is also the conviction, based first on intuition and afterwards on experience, that no request which ought to be refused will ever be made—a conviction which is, I suppose, an element in all friendship. A compare is received in the house as a member of the family and is looked upon as a relation closer than a brother. One can choose as compare a friend in whom one has confidence, whereas there is no choosing a brother, and cases have been known in which brothers did not agree. But any compare taking advantage of his position would be a contemptible traitor and among the sulphur-miners would provide material for a play at the Teatro Machiavelli. Talking it over with Peppino Pampalone he told me that sometimes things do go wrong, so that they say there are three relations more dangerous than enemies—the cognato (the brother-in-law) the cugino (the cousin), and the compare. And they say:

Dagli amici mi guardi Iddio
Chè dai nemici mi guardo io.

May God protect me from my friends
For I can protect myself from my enemies.

Peppino says: “If it is the man that would robber you in the street, this man would put his life in danger because every movement of this man you are looking. But if it is a friend then is it other; then you are depending in him that he is coming to salvare you, you are embracing him, kissing him, don’t be regarding the revolver that shall be in his pocket and sometimes would kill you. If it would not be Bruto, he would not succeed to take the life of Cesare. Did you understand?”

But these are exceptional cases.

CHAPTER X
COMPARE BERTO

In 1901 I spent ten days on Mount Eryx, now usually called Monte San Giuliano, near Trapani, where I went to see the nocturnal procession of Noah’s Ark and the Universal Deluge (Diversions in Sicily, Chapter X). During those days I made the acquaintance of about twenty young men of whom Alberto Augugliaro, the son of the professor of mathematics in the Ginnasio, was the chief. I have seen him nearly every year since, first as a student at Trapani, then at the University of Palermo, and again when he was at home on the Mountain for the holidays, in villeggiatura, or doing the practical work for his diploma in the chemist’s shop of his uncle. When he became qualified, his uncle handed the shop over to him and he is now established in it.

One starry September evening in 1909 we were walking together in the balio (the garden on the top of the Mountain), and I asked whether, as he was now over thirty, it was not time for him to think of getting married. He confessed that negotiations were in progress. I inquired the lady’s name, and he came close to me, took my arm and whispered a word in my ear. If he had shouted the

word it would have reached no other ear but mine. We were alone upon the Mountain; the Ericini were sleeping within their walls of stone; over their tiled and terraced roofs the stars were pacing through the night; in front of us and to our right and left, far below, encircled by its mountainous amphitheatre, the spacious plain was cooling after the heat of yesterday; behind us, the sea was drowsily patting the shore round the foot of Monte Cofano and along by happy Bonagia, swaying idly in and out of the harbours of Trapani and among the islands—Levanzo, Favognana, and distant Marettimo. Berto need not have whispered the word; but it was a secret—it was the name of his lady.

Soon after Christmas he announced in the most open manner, that is to say on a post-card, that the preliminaries were over and that his engagement to Giuseppina had been made public; I sent congratulations to them both and he replied in a letter which, omitting the formalities, runs thus in English:

I, on my part, and Giuseppina, on hers, are extremely contented because we both love you with that love which is strong and powerful enough to raise the heart and to transport us above the breathable air; and, as our thoughts frequently fly to you, our distant English friend, we make you a proposition, but you will understand that we lay no obligation upon you and we do not ask you to take any trouble. Here it is in two words: It is our most vivid desire that you should become our compare: that is, that you should hold the tazza containing the ring at our wedding. I repeat, it is our most vivid desire that you will accede to our request for this honour and we shall be most grateful to you if you will content us. It is for you to send your answer which we await with anxiety.