"Guiseppe, where are we going now?" she inquired.
It was a question Marta had longed to ask, but had not dared. The change in Guiseppe was too recent for Marta to believe he would continue good–tempered long.
Certainly since hearing Pappina sing, Guiseppe had seemed in good spirits. The visions of much money cheered him so that he was gracious even to Marta.
"We are going now to Porta Capuana, songstress," he laughingly replied. Noticing Marta's surprised look, he added kindly to her: "I've never done well there myself, but if all those others can make a living there I guess Pappina can draw the money with her voice."
Porta Capuana is a quarter of Naples where street singers congregate. Here, also, one may find public readers who follow in the footsteps of ancient poets like Homer and tell their stories to the public in person instead of through the cold type of the printer.
Pappina, proud of Guiseppe's praise, smiled happily into his face and walked close by his side, in her childish way holding with one hand a corner of his coat.
The almost deafening shouts of the quack doctors trying to sell their cure–alls, and stopping occasionally to pull teeth, frightened Pappina. She clung so tightly to Guiseppe's coat that he turned to look at her. Her bright, happy expression had changed to one of fear. Guiseppe took hold of her trembling hand, reassured her, and leading her to a place where the quacks and their victims were out of sight, he said in the kindest tone he had ever used:
"Canta [Sing], bambina."
Away from the din, with loving Marta on one side, protecting Guiseppe on the other, Pappina quickly forgot her fear. She sang and danced; money was given freely. She was happy. She and Guiseppe were the best of friends, and they were having a glorious time.
Such noise and such bustle! Such scenes and such macaroni!