Kophetua the Thirteenth

by Julian Stafford Corbett

"Right, Frampa," answered Bocco, with respect. "You are a genius. She will tax you hard if I read her right; but you are a genius."

Bocco was not mistaken. Frampa found she had a hard task before her. All she could say or do could not draw from Penelophon the slightest expression of a desire to appear on the stage; and when the old actress went further, and hinted how nice it would be for her to stand up like Nora before the people, and hear them shout and clap with delight, Penelophon only shuddered and looked like a frightened fawn. Indeed, the very presence of the other actresses was painful to her. Frampa she did not mind so much, for the manageress never acted now. She was too old and fat for anything but taking the money and dressing the girls. She had a not unpleasant face, with hard wrinkles and bright dark eyes, and a great double chin that had taken entire possession of the room once enjoyed by her neck. Her ways were so kindly, too, that Penelophon could be almost happy with her when she was not teasing her to act.

The very idea of that grew more painful to her each day. To see Nora sitting bold and brazen in her paint and shameless attire on the gaudy car, in which the company were wont to exhibit themselves through the villages, was too shocking for her to bear. She used to go and hide in Frampa's cart, and try to think of Trecenito, that she might shut out the wickedness that surrounded her.

Bocco was more successful with his part. He began by coming to the lonely girl, and repeating verses to amuse her. Then he asked her to try and say them, and his bright black eyes looked at her so strangely that she dared not refuse. She grew afraid of him and the strange power in his sharp face which seemed to fascinate her. So she always tried hard to remember what he read to her, and say it as he did to please him, and make him go away and not stare at her.

After Penelophon had been with the players some weeks, to all these troubles a new one was added. For one day, while Nora was riding her brazen course round a village which they had reached the night before, and Penelophon was hiding in Frampa's cart, she saw the door stealthily open, and the face of a man peep in and look at her. He said nothing, but went away as quietly as he came. Presently the door opened once more, and the strange face was there again with another. Suddenly, just as she thought they were coming in, and she was cowering down as close as she could in her corner, the door shut, and she heard the sound of feet hurrying away. Then Bocco came in, looking very angry.

"Do you know those men?" he asked, in his sharp way.

"No," answered Penelophon. "Why do they come to look at me?"

"Because they are bad," answered the arlecchino. "If they ask you to go with them, be sure you do not. They are very bad. If they try to take you, cry out for me, and I will blast them with an evil eye. They dare not let me look on them as I know how. They will run away if you call out."

Bocco indeed had considerable faith in the power of his eye; but perhaps he told Penelophon a little more than he actually believed; still he was generally credited by his acquaintances with the evil eye, and he made the best use of his reputation. Now he wished to complete his influence over Penelophon, for he felt it was more than ever necessary. For some days he had had a suspicion that he was being followed by some men of mysterious manners, and he shrewdly suspected their attentions were due to the presence of Penelophon in the caravan. Frampa and he apprehended an attempt to carry her off, and the chance of losing their hopeful protégée increased their anxiety to make use of her.