THE TALE OF A TIGER

by Dario Fo
translated by Ed Emery
[This file was scanned from the printed text. It may
contain typographical errors still to be sorted.]
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For performance rights, please contact:
ed.emery [@] britishlibrary.net
Please be aware that this translation can only be
performed with explicit permission in writing from the
agency representing Dario Fo and Franca Rame,
the Danese-Tolnay agency in Rome.
Original text copyright Dario Fo
Translation copyright Ed Emery

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THE TALE OF A TIGER

by Dario Fo
translated by Ed Emery

INTRODUCTION
The first part of tonight's show has a positive theme.
It's a hopeful piece, just at a time when negativity
and a general collapse of ideals seem to be the
dominant forces in our everyday lives. It's called
"The Tale of a Tiger", and the message is conveyed
by allegory.
In fact the first time I performed this piece was right
here in Florence, and for me that night was sort of
try-out. On that particular evening, the audience's

involvement in the piece proved very important to

me. They gave me a number of clear and precise
pointers which enabled me to see where the weak
points were and which sections needed to be cut or
altered.
So, this enabled me to trim the story down. At first it
ran for a quarter of an hour. Now, after a process of
polishing, correcting, cutting, tightening up, the
piece runs to 45 minutes! I'm not joking. In theatre,
tightening a piece up doesn't necessarily mean
shredding it into little bits.
I first heard this story told actually, performed,
rather than told four years ago, in China. To be
precise, in Shanghai. In that period, there were
many stories like this being told in China.
Leaving aside the official theatre, the most lively
form of theatre was a theatre completely unknown to
passing tourists: the popular theatre fringe theatre,
I suppose you could call it which was a real
hothouse of imagination, creativity and humour.
I doubt that nowadays this story is still performed in
public in the way that I saw it told, before an
audience of thousands of people, men, women,
children.... in a park.... in the Shanghai countryside.
The storyteller told his tale in the dialect of the
Shanghai countryside, a dialect which is spoken by
a minority. A minority of around 60 million
inhabitants! In China 60 million really is a minority,
when you think that around half a billion people
speak the national language.
Now, the vowel sounds and the consonants which
this peasant-actor was producing in his dialect
fascinated me: his sounds and vocal tonalities had
little relation with the spoken Chinese that I had
encountered up until then His language was
broader, the sounds were harder, with a tendency to
slide into deep, throaty rambling phrasings which,
for me, brought to mind the "keenings" of the
peasants of the Po Valley and the dialect stories of
the mountains and upper valleys of Lombardy. In
other words, I was on familiar territory.
And when, in addition to the sounds, I saw this
extraordinary travelling player using hand gestures,
arm movements, and moving his whole body as an
accompaniment and counterpoint to the sounds
[roars, silence, words.... .], the words at first coming
thick and fast and then more leisurely, and then
silence in short, true pantomime I realised that I
was face to face with a theatre of great importance.

And the principal player in this piece was a shetiger, a tigress.

The Tigress was the leading lady, and her
supporting cast were a tiger cub and a soldier.
Unfortunately, I had some difficulties in getting the
story explained to me. You see, our interpreter was
from Peking, and didn't understand a word of the
local dialect!
Luckily, we were able to find a local person who
spoke the national language well, and so we were
able to get a complete translation of the piece. That
is the translation which I shall now perform for you. I
had already heard of the theme of this piece, from
Ms Colotti-Pischel, a notable researcher and analyst
of Chinese politics and culture. But from her I knew
only the broad outlines. I did not know the entire
story, as I was to discover it in Shanghai.
This is the story of a soldier. It is the soldier himself
who speaks, through the performer. He tells about
his experiences in the army.... coming down from
the Manchuria border at the start of Mao's Long
March.
As I am sure you know, the army in question was
made up of the Fourth Army, the Seventh Army, and
several regiments of the Eighth. They came down in
their thousands, from the North of China, down
towards Canton, covering thousands of miles on
their march.
They reach Canton, and move on to Shanghai. Then
they turn off towards the West, and cross the whole
of China from East to West, to arrive at the foothills
of the Himalayas. They have to cross the Himalayas
in order to reach the Green Sea, the famous greenblue desert that runs along the Mongolian border,
and then head north again, so that they can finally
muster their forces to embark on the Chinese
Revolution.
However, our soldier is not destined to reach the
Green Sea. He is wounded by a bullet fired by the
soldiers of Chiang Kai Shek, as the marchers are in
the process of crossing the Himalayas. He is badly
wounded. His wound begins to putrefy. Gangrene
sets in, and the poor soldier is about to die. He is
suffering. His comrades know that he is unlikely to
survive more than another couple of days.
One of the soldiers, a comrade from his own village,
suggests that he should shoot him, in order to put
him out of his terrible agony. But our soldier turns
down his offer: "I'm going to fight to live," he shouts.

Here lies the first allegory: resist, fight on, even in

the face of death.
He insists that his comrades leave him there. He
asks them to leav him a gun, a blanket and a bit of
rice. He's left on his own. He falls asleep. But as
they say, it never rains but it pours. He is suddenly
awakened by a crash of thunder: a tremendous
storm breaks all around him. An avalanche of water
falls from the skies, and a raging river roars up at his
feet.
On all fours, with agonising efforts, he succeeds in
scrambling up one of the mountain ridges. He
reaches a kind of plateau. He swims across a raging
torrent in order to reach an enormous cave which he
sees on the other side of the stream, up in the
rockface. Finally, safe and sound in the cave, he
meets.... the tigress.
The tigress. And her tiger cub. In China, the shetiger has a very specific allegorical reference: you
say that a woman, or a man, or a nation "has the
tigress" when they make a stand, at a time when
most people are running away, giving up, taking to
their heels, ditching the struggle, copping out, in
short, coming to the point where they run down both
themselves, and everything in sight.
People are said to "have the tigress" when they
don't do this, when they hold firm, when they resist.
And the peasants of Shanghai have another saying:
they take their resistance so far as even to hold
burning embers in the palm of their hands so that
when those who had panicked and fled later pluck
up courage and return, they find someone there,
someone who has kept the embers burning, so that
they can begin to organise again and rejoin the
struggle.
The tiger also has another allegorical meaning
and this is perhaps the most important. A person
"has the tiger" when they never delegate anything to
anyone else, when they never expect other people
to solve their problems for them even when the
person to whom those problems might be delegated
is the most valued of leaders, a leader who has
shown his capacities on countless occasions,
perhaps the most honest and trusted of Party
secretaries... No! Never! People who "have the
tiger" are those who undertake to be inside the
situation, to play their parts, to monitor and watch, to
be present and resposible to the ultimate degree.
Not out of any sense of suspicion, but in order to
avoid that blind fidelity which is a cancer, a stupid

and negative element of the class struggle, the

enemy of both reason and revoution.
That, then, is the allegory of the tiger. I am now
going to tell this story... in Chinese... because I have
discovered that this particular Chinese dialect is
fairly simple and easy for people to understand,
since a lot of the words it uses are very
onomatopoeic... and also the story is full of incidents
which can be conveyed very adequately by
gesture... All I need do is disguise the words by
adding here and there a word or two of our own
dialect the dialect of the Po Valley and you will
be absolutely amazed to discover that you
understand virtually everything I say. You will
imagine that the story is being told in the dialect of
the peasants of the Veneto of Lombardy, of Emilia
and Piedmont... but in fact it will be pure Chinese!
The wonder of theatre! Let's begin.
******* The Tale of a Tiger *******
The soldier speaks:
When we came down from Manchuria with the
Fourth Army, the Eighth Army and virtually the whole
of the Seventh Army, there were thousands and
thousands of us, shuffling along, moving by day and
by night. We marched, loaded with packs and
baggage. We were dirty and we were tired. And we
pressed on, and our horses couldn't stand the pace,
and the horses died, and we used to eat them, and
we used to eat the donkeys too, when they died,
and we used to eat dogs, and, when we ran out of
anything else to eat, we also used to eat cats,
lizards and rats! You can imagine the dysentery
afterwards! We had the shits so bad that along that
road, I'd say that for centuries to come you'll find the
tallest, greenest grass of anywhere in the world!
Some of us were dying, because Chiang Kai Shek's
soldiers, the white bandits, were shooting at us....
from all sides.... every day.... We were caught in a
trap.... we'd find them lying in wait for us in the
villages, and they'd poison the well-water, and we
were dying, dying, dying.
Well, we got to Shanghai, and we continued out the
other side. Before long we saw the enormous
Himalaya Mountains in front of us. And our leaders
told us: "Stop here. There might be an ambush
here.... Up the mountainside, there might be some
of Chiang Kai Shek's white bandits, waiting to
ambush us as we go up the gorge. So, all of you in

the rearguard, climb up, and guard our rear while

we're going through."
So, we scrambled up, right up to the top of the ridge,
so as to make sure that nobody up there started
shooting up our backsides! And our comrades
marched, and marched and marched, filing past,
and we cheered them on:
"Don't worry, we're here. We'll look after you....
Move along, move along, move along!"
It took almost a whole day for all the soldiers to
pass. Finally it was our turn to go up the gorge. We
come down from our look-outs.
"But now who's going to guard our rears?"
We came down from our sentry-posts, very nervous.
We took a careful look down the valley floor. Then,
all of a sudden, just as we were entering the mouth
of the gorge, those bandits suddenly popped out, up
above, and started shooting at us: Blim, blam,
blam....! I saw two big rocks. I dived in between
them, under cover, and started shooting: blam! I
looked out.... and realised that my left leg was still
sticking out from behind the rock.
"Hell, let's hope they don't notice my leg."
BLAM!
"Nyaaah!" They noticed! I copped a bullet right in the
leg.... The bullet went in one side and out the other.
It grazed one testicle, almost hit the second, and if
I'd had a third one, it would have blown it to hell!
Ooouch, the pain!
"Oh hell," I said, "they've hit the bone!" But no, the
bone was untouched.
"They've hit the artery.... " But no, the blood's not
spurting.
I grabbed my leg and squeezed and squeezed and
stopped the blood running. Then I got up and tried to
carry on. Gently, gently. But then, two days later I
started to get a fever, a fever that set my heart
pounding so hard that I could feel it down in my big
toe: boom, boom, boom. My knee puffed up like a
balloon, and I had a big swelling here in my groin.
"It's gangrene! Damn and damn again, it's
gangrene!"
The putrfying flesh began to give off a bad smell all
around me, and my comrades told me: "Hey, do you

think you could keep back a bit; you stink pretty bad,
you know...."
They cut two long, thick bamboo canes, maybe 8 or
10 metres long. Two of my comrades decided to
march, one in front of the other, holding the bamboo
canes on their shoulders, while I went between the
two of them, with the poles supporting my armpits,
so that I could walk, without putting too much weight
on my leg. They marched with their faces turned
away, and their noses blocked so as not to smell the
stench.
One night, we were within reach of what they call
the "Great Green Sea", and all night I'd been
screaming, swearing and shouting for my mother. In
the morning, one of the soldiers, my comrade, who
was as dear to me as my brother, pulled out an
enormous pistol. He pointed it here. [He points to
his forehead.] "You're in too much pain, it's too much
to see you suffering like this, let me do it.... just one
bullet, and it'll all be over."
"Thank you for your solidarity and your
understanding," I said. "I realise that it's said with
the best of intenions, but I think we'll leave that for
another time. Don't go worrying yourself. I'll kill
myself, myself, when the time comes. I want to fight,
fight to live! Go ahead, leave me, because I can see
that you can't go on carrying me like this. Go on, go
on! Just leave me a gun, a blanket and a bit of rice
in a mess tin!"
And so off they went. They left me. And as they
struggled through the mud of that "green sea", I
began to shout after them:
"Hey, comrades, comrades.... Hell....! Don't tell my
mother that I died putrefied. Tell her that it was a
bullet, and that I was laughing when it hit me! Ha,
ha! Hey!"
But they didn't turn round. They pretended that they
hadn't heard me, so that they wouldn't have to turn
round and let me see. And I knew the reason: their
faces were all streaked with tears....
I dropped to the ground. I wrapped myself in the
blanket, and I fell asleep.
I don't know why, but as I slept, I had a nightmare. I
dreamt that the sky was full of clouds, and they
suddenly split open, and a great sea of water came
gushing down. Whoomf! A huge, frightening crash of
thunder! I woke up. It really was a sea! I was in the
middle of storm, and all the rivers and streams were

breaking their banks, and flooding the valley. The

water was rising fast: splish, splash, splish.... And
before I knew it, it was up to my knees.
"Hell, instead of dying from gangrene, I'm going to
end up drownded!"
Slowly, slowly, slowly, I clambered up a steep slope
covered in scree. I had to hang on to branches with
my teeth, just to get a hold. I broke all my nails.
Once I was up on the ridge, I started running,
dragging my useless leg behind me, so as to get
across the plateau. I dived into a raging stream, and
swam and swam till I reached the other side. I
clambered up the bank, and all of a sudden, right in
front of me.... Hey! A big cave! A cavern. I threw
myself inside:
"Saved! I'm not going to die drowned.... I'm going to
die of gangrene!"
I look around. It's dark. My eyes get used to the
dark.... and I see bones, a carcase of an animal that
has been eaten, an enormous carcase.... an
excessive carcase!
"But what kind of animal eats like this?! Let's hope
it's moved out.... and taken its family with it! Let's
hope they've all drowned in the flood!"
Anyway, I go to the back of the cave.... I lie down on
the ground. Once again, I start to feel my heart
beating, boom, boom, throbbing right down in my
big toe.
"I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm going to die."
All of a sudden, I see a shadow in the cave
entrance. A figure, picked out against the light. An
enormous head. What a head! Two yellow eyes,
with two black stripes for pupils.... eyes as big as
lanterns. What an enormous beast! A tiger!! A tigress
the size of an elephant! Oh hell!
In her mouth she's got a tiger cub. Its belly is all
swollen up with water. It looks like a sausage, like a
soggy little football. She tosses it onto the cave
floor.... Thud.... She starts pressing with her paw....
on its belly.... Water comes out.... Schplock.... from
its mouth: it's stone dead, drowned.
There's another tiger cub too, wobbling around its
mother's legs, looking like it's got a melon in its belly.
This one is dragging a bellyful of water too. The
tigress raises her head. She takes a sniff: sniff,
sniff.... Sniffing the air in the cave....

"Hell, if she likes high meat, I'm done for!"

She fixes on me.... she comes towards me.... Here
she comes.... That head, getting bigger, and
bigger.... ! I feel my hair beginning to stand on end,
so stiff that it makes a noise....! Creeeak.... Then my
other hairs start bristling too.... in my ears, in my
nose.... and other hairs as well! A brush!
"She's coming, she's coming, here she is.... next to
me.... She sniffs me all over."
"Roooar!"
And off she went, slinking off to the back of the
cave, where she lay down. Then she grabbed her
son, the cub, and pulled him against her belly. I
looked: her teats were full of milk, almost full to
bursting, beause it must have been days and days
that nobody had sucked milk from them, with all that
water flooding down outside. In addition to which,
one of her children, the other tiger cub, was dead,
drowned.... So, the mother shoved the little one's
head next to her teat and said:
"Roooar!"
And the tiger cub:
"Rooar!"
"Roooar!"
"Roooar!"
"Rooar!"
"Roooar!"
A family row! That poor kid of a tiger cub was right:
he was like a little barrel, filled to the brim with
water.... what do you expect.... ? Anyway, the tiger
cub ran off to the back of the cave.... and started
making a fuss.
"Rooar!"
The tigress is furious! She gets up, turns round, and
fixes her beady eye.... on me! On me??!! Oh hell,
she gets angry at her son, and then she comes to
take it out one me?! What's it got to do with me?
Hey, now look, I'm not even one of the family!
Creeeak! Creeeak! [He imitates the sound of his
hairs standing on end again.] The brush!

She comes over to me, with her great big headlamp

eyes. She turns sideways on, and, smack! I get a
teat in my face.
"What kind of way is that to kill people, hitting them
with your teat?"
She turns her head to look at me, and says:
"Rooar!"
As if to say: "Suck!"
With two fingers I take her teat, and go to put it in
my mouth.
"Thank you. If it makes you any happier..." [He
mimes taking a little sip from the teat.]
I should never have done it! She turned round, with
a mean look on her face:
"Rooar!"
God help anyone who spurns the hospitality of lady
tigers! They go wild! Animals, they are! So I took her
teat and... schloop schloop, schloop... [He mimes
drinking fast and greedily from her teat.] Marvellous!
Tiger milk... marvellous! A bit bitter, but, my dear
boy... so creamy: it went slithering down, and rolled
around in my empty stomach... Slither, slither,
slither. Then it found my first intestine... Splosh: it
spread through all my other empty intestines...
Fifteen days that I hadn't eaten. Schloop, schloop,
schloop. The milk swilled around and began to
revitalise my intestine! Then, when I finished,
schloop, schloop, schloop, I folded it neatly away.
[He mimes the action of tucking up the empty teat,
like a salt wrapper.]
I don't remember how or when, but I fell asleep,
calm and peaceful as a baby. In the morning I woke
up. I'd already emptied out a bit.... I don't know what
happened, but the ground was all soaked in milk....
I look round for the tigress. She's not there. Neither
is the cub. They've gone off... Maybe they've gone
out for a wee. I wait for a while... I was worried.
Every time I heard a noise outside, I was scared that
maybe some wild animal was coming to pay a visit.
Some wild animal, which would come into the cave.
I could hardly say:

"I'm sorry, the lady of the house isn't in. She's gone
out. Could you come back later? Maybe you'd like to
leave a message... "
I worried and waited. Finally, that evening, the
tigress returned. All smooth and slinky. Her nipples
were a bit swollen again with milk, but not like the
day before, when they were almost bursting: this
time they were about half full, just about right, and
behind her came the tiger cub. No sooner had the
tigress entered the cave than she gives a sniff. She
takes a look around, sees me, and says:
"Roooar."
As if to say: "What? You still here?"
And the tiger cub passes comment too:
"Roooar."
And off they went to the back of the cave. The
tigress lay down. By now, the cub's belly was a little
less swollen with water, but every now and then:
Buurp! He sicked up a drop or two, and then laid
himself down next to his mum. His mum gently took
hold of his head, and pushed it close to her teat:
"Roooar!" [He mimes the tiger-cub refusing to drink.]
The tigress:
"Roooar!"
"Roooar!"
The tiger cub went scuttling off. He'd had enough of
liquid refreshment! [He mimes the tigress turning
and looking at the soldier. And the soldier,
resignedly, goes over to drink his milk.]
"Schloop, schloop, schloop". What a life! And while I
was sucking on her teats, all of a sudden she began
licking my wound:
"Oh hell, she's trying me for taste! If she decides
she likes me, while I'm sucking her at one end, she'll
be eating me from the other!"
But no, she was licking. Licking. She was seeing to
my wound.
She started sucking out all the poison in the
swelling. Screeek... Splosh! She spat it out! She
spat it all out! Bliyaa! Hell, what a splendid tiger! She
was spreading her saliva, that special tiger saliva, all

over the wound. And all of a sudden I remembered

that tiger balm is a wonderful, miraculous healing
agent, a medicine. I remembered that when I was a
kid, in my village, we used to have little old men
coming round, folk doctors, medicine men, who
would turn up with little pots full of tiger balm. And
they'd go round saying:
"Come on, ladies! Can't you produce milk? Then
smear your breasts with this balm, and, presto!
You'll get two big breasts, full to bursting! And you
old folk, are your teeth falling out? One wipe over
the gums... and your teeth will stay put like fangs!
Any of you got boils, warts, scabs... an infection?
One drop, and away they go! Cures every illness!"
It's true, that balm really was miraculous! And it
really was tiger balm, it wasn't a trick. They went
looking for it themselves. Just think of the courage
of those old fellows, those doctors; off they went, all
by themselves, to take tigers' saliva, from inside the
tiger's mouth, while she was sleeping, with her
mouth wide open. Schplook...! Schplook! [He mimes
rapidly gathering the saliva.] And off they went. You
could always recognise one of these doctors,
because they usually had one arm slightly shorter
than the other! [He mimes a person with one arm
shorter than the other.] Industrial injuries!
Anyway, maybe it was my imagination, but, as she
was licking and sucking at me, I felt my blood
thinning out all over again, and my big toe began to
feel like it felt before, and my knee began to loosen
up... My knee was moving! Hell, this is the life! I was
so happy that I began to sing while I was sucking:
whistling and blowing. Oh what a mistake! Instead of
sucking on her teat, I blew into it: whoosh...
whoosh... whoosh, a balloon as big as this! [He
mimes quickly deflating the teat before the tigress
notices.] ...All gone! And the tigress was happy as
anything, with a face like this.... [He mimes the
tigress's expression of satisfaction.] She gave me
the usual lick, and off to the back of the cave. Now, I
should mention that while the mother was licking
me, the tiger cub was there, looking on, very
curious. And when his mother had finished, he came
over to me, with his little tongue hanging out, as if to
say:
"Can I have a lick too?"
Tiger cubs are like children. Everything that they see
their mothers do, they want to do too.
"You want a lick? Well, watch out for those little itsybitsy sharp teeth of yours." [He threatens the tiger

cub with his fist.] "Watch out that you don't bite me,
eh!"
So he came over to me... Tickle, tickle... tickle... He
gave me a lick with that little tongue of his, which
tickled like anything. Then, after a bit: Oooch! A bite!
He had his testicles right there, close to me. Bam!
[He mimes giving a punch.] A right-hander!
Screeech! Like a scalded cat! The cub began
running round the cave wall, like a trick motor cyclist
at a circus!
One should always ensure respect from tigers,
starting when they're young!
And in fact, from that moment on, my friend, every
time the cub came close to me, he didn't just walk
by. Oh no, he was very careful! He walked by like
this.
[With his arms and legs rigid, moving one in front of
the other alternately, he mimes the tiger walking
sideways-on, careful to keep a safe distance, and
covering himself from any further blows to the
testicles.]
So, the tigress was asleep. The tiger cub fell asleep
too, and I followed soon after. That night, I slept a
deep, deep sleep. I wasn't in pain any more. I
dreamt that I was at home, with my wife, dancing,
and with my mother, singing. In the morning, when I
woke, there was no sign either of the tigress or of
her cub. They'd already gone out.
"But what kind of family is this? They don't stay at
home for a moment! And now who's going to look
after my wound? Those two are capable of staying
out and about for days on end".
I waited. Night came. Still they didn't return.
"What kind of mother do you call that? A child as
young as that, and she's taking him out, walking the
streets all night! What's going to become of him
when he grows up?! A little animal!"
The following day, they returned, at dawn. At dawn!
Just like that, as if nothing had happened. The
tigress had an enormous animal in her mouth. I
don't know what it was. A huge goat that she'd killed,
about the size of a cow... with huge great horns! The
tiger came into the cave: slam, she tossed it to the
ground. The cub parades in front of me, and says:
"Rooar!"

As if to say: "It was me that killed it!"

[He shows his fist threateningly, and mimes the
reaction of the tiger cub, who is terrified and starts
walking sideways-on.]
Anyway, back to the goat. The tigress whips out a
huge claw. She tosses the goat on its back, with its
feet up in the air. Scritch... a deep gash. Scriitch
again. She tears open its whole stomach, its belly.
She pulls out its innards, all its intestines, its heart,
its spleen... Scriitch... scratch... she scrapes it clean
as a whistle... and the tiger cub... plip, plop... leapt
right inside! And the tigress... a flaming fury! Rooar!"
You see, you should never climb into a tiger's
lunch... They get terribly upset!
Then the tigress buried her whole head in the
animal's belly, in the empty stomach... And the tiger
cub was in there too... What a terrible din... ! Yum...
Yum... Slurp.... Scrick... Enough to burst your
eardrums!
Within an hour they had eaten everything in sight!
All the bones gnawed clean. All that was left was
part of the animal's rear end its tail, its thigh, its
knee, and the great big hoof at the end. The tigress
turned round and said:
"Roooar."
As if to say: "Are you hungry?"
She picked up the leg, and tossed it over in my
direction:
"Rooar..."
As if to say: "Try this little snack."
[He mimes being unable to handle the situation.]
"Yuk... ! Me, eat that?! But that stuff's tough as old
boots. I don't have teeth like yours... Look at it! It's
so hard, it's more like leather! And what about all
that fat, with the hide... all these lumps of gristle...
Now, if we had a fire here, so that we could put it on
to roast for a couple of hours... ! Hell, a fire! That's
right, the flood has washed down a whole lot of
roots and stumps.
So, I went out, since I was already able to walk
again, even though I was still limping a bit: I went
out in front of the cave, where there were some tree
stumps and trunks. I started dragging some good

big bits inside, and then some branches, and then I

made a pile about so-high. Then I took some dry
grass, and some leaves that were lying around.
Then I put the two horns in the shape of a cross,
along with another couple of bones, at the other
end, and between them I put the goat-leg, spit-style.
Then I went out looking for some round stones,
sulphur stones, which make sparks when you knock
them against each other. I found two good big ones,
and started to rub them together.
Scritch... scritch... [He mimes rubbing the two
stones together.] Hey presto! A shower of sparks...
Tigers are scared of fire. Ha! I hear the tiger at the
back of the cave:
"Roooar!" [He mimes bristling menacingly.]
"Well, what's up? You've eaten your dirty disgusting
meat, haven't you? All raw and dripping with blood?
Well, if you don't mind, I prefer mine cooked. So
scram!" [He mimes the tigress, cowering,
frightened.]
One should always get the upper hand over the
female of the pecies! Even if she is wild! So I sat
myself down with my two stones.. Scritch... Scritch...
and once again, hey presto... Fire! The fire caught
the grass, then the leaves, and the flames started
rising: niiice... ! And all the fat began to roast, and
the melted fat went down into the fire... And a thick
cloud of black smoke rose to the cave roof... and
drifted towards the back of the cave. And as the
cloud of smoke reached the tiger, she went:
"Atchoo!" [A roar which suggests a sneeze.]
"Is the smoke bothering you? Well scram, then! And
you, Tiggles!" [He threatens the tiger cub with his
fist, and mimes the frightened cub walking out,
sideways on.] "Out!"
And I roast and roast and baste and baste and turn
and turn. Schloop... Screeek... Pssss... But then I
think it doesn't quite smell right.
"If only I could find something to flavour it with!"
Hey, that's right! Outside I remember seeing some
wild garlic.
I go out. In the clearing there, yes, right in front of
the cave... I pick a good handful of wild garlic.
Scrick... Then I see a green shoot I pull it up:
"Wild onion!"

And I find some hot peppers... I take a flake of bone.

I make some cuts in the thigh, and I stuff the cloves
of garlic inside, together with the onion, and the
peppers. Then I go looking for some salt, because
sometimes you find rock salt in cave. I find saltpetre.
"Well, that will have to do, although saltpetre's a bit
bitter sometimes. What's more, there's the problem
that it might explode with the fire. But never mind. I'll
just have to watch out."
I stuff some pieces of saltpetre into the cuts. And in
fact, after a while, the flames... Blim... blam...
crackle... And the tigress:
"Roooar." [He mimes the tigress getting frightened.]
"This is men's business! Get out, out of my kitchen!"
Round and round and round goes the meat... By
now it's giving off a lovely clean smoke. And what an
aroma! After an hour, my friend, the smell that came
off that meat was divine.
"Haha, what a meal!"
Screeek: I pull off a strip of meat. [He mimes tasting
it.] Schloop, schloop.
"Hey, that's good!"
It's been years and years since I last ate as well as
this. It's really tasty, delicate, sweet.
I looked round, and there was the tiger cub... He
had just come in. And he stood there, licking his
whiskers.
"Oh I see... so you want a taste too? But you're not
going to like this stuff. Do you really want some?
Look. [He mimes cutting a piece of meat and
throwing it to the tiger, who gulps it down.] Hopla!"
The tiger cub had a taste, swallowed it, and then
said:
"Roooar."
"Was that good? Do you like it... ? You badmannered thing!! Here, take this, hopla!" [Again he
mimes cutting off some meat and throwing it, and
the tiger cub stuffing it down.]
"Roooar... Swallow... Yum... Oooh... !"

"Thank you, thank you... Yes, all my own cooking.

Would you like some more? Watch out, because if
your mother finds out that you've been eating this
stuff...!"
I cut off a nice piece of fillet:
"I'll keep this bit for myself, but I'm going to leave the
rest, because there's too much for me. Here you
are, you can have the leg." [He mimes throwing the
goat's leg to the tiger cub.]
Blam... He got it full in the face, and it sent him
flying. He picked it up, and started dragging it
around, like a drunkard. Then his mother turned up:
what a row!
"Roooar... What are you eating there... that
disgusting burnt meat? Come here, give it here...
Roooar."
"Roooar. Oooh. Rooar."
A piece of the meat happens to end up in the
mother's mouth. She swallows it. She likes it.
"Roooar... Yum... Rooar!" said the mother.
"Roooar... Yum!" answered the tiger cub. [He mimes
the mother and the cub fighting over the meat.] A
quarrel!!
"Screek... Schloop... Nyum..."
I ask you! The bone! Stripped bare! Then the tigress
turns towards me, and says:
"Roooar, isn't there any more?"
"Hey, this is mine!" [Pointing to the piece of meat
that he had cut off shortly before.]
As I was eating, the tigress came close to me... I
thought that she wanted to eat my meat, but instead
she was coming over to lick my wound to make it
better. What a wonderful person! She licked me, and
then she went over to her part of the cave. She
sprawled out on the ground. Her kid was already
asleep, and I soon fell asleep myself.
When I woke up in the morning, the tigers had
already gone out. This was getting to be a habit! I
waited all day, and there was still no sign of them.
They didn't even turn up for supper. I was getting a
bit nervous! The day after, thy still hadn't come back!

"Who's going to lick me? Who's going to look after

my wound? You can't go off leaving people on their
own at home like this!"
They finally turned up three days later.
"Now I'm going to have a showdown!"
Instead I stood there, struck speechless: the tigress
came in, and in her mouth she had a whole animal,
double the size of the last one! A wild bison, or
something, I don't know what it was! And the tiger
cub was helping her to carry it, too. Both of them
came into the cave... Whoomf, sideways on... as if
drunk with the effort... Whoomf.. they came over to
me. Thud... [He mimes the tigers putting the dead
animal in front of him.]
The tigress says:
"Pant... Pant... " [He imitates the panting of the
tigress.] And then:
"Roooar."
As if to say: "Cook that!"
[He makes as if to tear his hair, in desperation.]
What a terrible thing! You should never let tigers
develop bad habits!
"But, excuse me, tiger, I'm afraid you've
misunderstood. You don't think that I'm going to
stand here, getting scorched, slaving over a hot
stove, while you go out enjoying yourself, eh? What
do you think I've become? A housewife?!" [He
mimes the tiger rearing up as if to attack him.]
"Roooar!"
"Stop! Hey, hey... Hey! At least we can talk about it,
can't we? What's the matter, don't we talk about
things any more? Let's have a bit of dialectics... !
Alright, alright... Hey... ! Don't get all worked up
about it! Alright, I'll be the cook... I'll do the cooking.
But you're going to have to go and get the wood."
"Roooar?" [He mimes the tigress pretending not to
understand.]
"Don't play dumb with me. You know what wood is,
don't you! Look, come outside here. You see those
things sticking up? That's wood. Bring all those bits
in here. "

She had indeed understood. She set to straight

away, gathering wood, all the stumps and trunks,
going to and fro, so that after an hour, the cave was
half full.
"And hey, you, tiger cub! A lovely life, eh? With your
hands in your pockets?" [Turning to the audience.]
He really did have his hands in his pockets! He had
his claws tucked in, and, arms akimbo, he was
standing with his paws on two black tiger stripes,
one here and one here. [He puts his hands on his
hips.] Just as if he had his hands in his pockets!
"Come on! Work! I'll tell you what you're going to
have to do: onion, wild garlic, wild pepper, all the
trimmings."
"Roooar??"
"You don't know what I'm talking about? Alright then,
I'll show you. Look, over there, that is onion, and this
is a pepper."
The poor thing spent ages going to and fro, with his
mouth full of garlic, pepper and onions... Ha... ! And
after two or three days, his breath smelt so
overpowering that you couldn't get near him. What a
stink!
And there I was, all day long, over the fire, roasting.
I was getting burnt to a frazzle... My knees singed,
my testicles shrivelled. I had my face all scorched;
my eyes were watering; my hair was scorched too,
red in front and white behind! After all, I could hardly
cook with my backside to the fire, could I! What a
life! And the tigers they would eat, then go for a
piss, and then come back to sleep. I ask you: what
kind of a life was that?!
Anyway, one night when I was feeling scorched all
over, I told myself:
"That's enough... ! I've had enough. I'm leaving."
While the two of them were sleeping, fed to bursting,
half drunk with food, which I had done on purpose, I
crept off on all fours towards the cave exit. I was just
about to go out, I was almost out... when the tiger
cub woke up and started yelling:
"Roooar... Mummy, he's running away!"
Rotten little spy of a tiger cub! One of these days I'm
going to tear your bollocks off with my bare hands,

roast them and serve them up to your mum for

supper!"
But it's raining! All of a sudden, it started to rain. I
remembered that tigers have this terrible fear of
water. So I dived out of the cave and began running
down the side of the mountain towards the river... I
hurled myself into the river... and started
swimming... swimming... swimming! The tigers came
to the mouth of the cave:
"Roooar!"
And I answered:
"Roooar!" [He transforms the mimed action of
swimming into a rude gesture.]
I reached the other bank of the river. I started
running. I walked for days, weeks, a month, two
months... I don't remember how long I walked. I
found not one house or hut, not a single village. I
was in forest all the time. Finally, I ended up on a
little hill, looking out, down into the valley below. It
was farmland. I saw houses down there, a village...
A village! With a village square, where there were
women, children and men!
"Hey... People!"
I ran tumbling down the hillside.
"I'm safe, people! I'm alive! I'm a soldier of the
Fourth Army, that's what I am... "
No sooner did they see me arrive than they began
shouting:
"It's Death! A ghost!"
And they all ran off into their little houses. And they
locked themselves in, barring and chaining their
doors.
"But why... what do you mean, a ghost... No,
people... "
I passed in front of a glass window, and happened
to catch sight of my reflection. I scared myself silly:
my hair was all white and standing on end. My face
was all scorched, red and black. My eyes looked like
burning coals! I really did look like Death! I ran to a
fountain, and jumped in... I washed myself; I rubbed
myself down with sand, all over. Then I came out, all
clean.

"People, come out! Touch me... I'm a real man.

Flesh and blood. Warm... Come and feel me... I'm
not a ghost."
They came out, a bit scared at first. Some of the
men, some of the women, and the children, touched
me...
And as they touched me, I told my story: [He runs
through his story again, very fast, semi-grammelot.]
"Im in the Fourth Army. I've come down from
Manchuria. They shot me up in the Himalayas. They
got me in the leg, and grazed my first testicle, my
second testicle, and if I'd had a third they would
have blown it clean away... Then, three days,
gangrene... He points the pistol at me: "Thanks,
save it for another time". Boom. I fell asleep. Boom,
it's raining, and water, water. Boom, I'm in a cave,
and a tigress turns up... . drowned tiger cub... And
she came towards me. All my hairs stood on end... A
brush! Ha!
Breast-feeding. And I suck, suck, just to keep her
happy, and she turns round, and there's another
tittery... ! Then the other one comes over: blam! A
punch in the testicles... And then, the next time:
whoomf, a huge animal. And I roast, roast, red in
front, white behind! Wham! Mummy, he's running
away! I'll pull your bollocks off, you! Roooar! And
that's how I got away!"
While I was telling my story, they stood there, giving
each other meaningful looks, as if to say:
"Poor fellow, he's brain's gone for a walk... He must
have had a terrible fright, the poor devil's gone
mad... "
And I replied:
"Don't you believe me?"
"But yes, yes, of course we do. It's normal to drink
milk from tigers' teats... Everyone drinks milk from
tigers' teats! Round these parts there are people
who grew up drinking milk from tigers. Every now
and then you see them going off. "Where are you
going?" "To drink milk from a tiger's tits". Not to
mention cooked meat! Oh... How they love it! Oh
yes, tigers are real gluttons for their cooked meat!!
In fact, we've set up a canteen, specially for tigers...
They come down, specially, every week, so as to eat
with us!"

I got the impression that they were taking the

mickey, a bit.
At that moment, we heard a tiger, roaring: "Rooar". A
mighty roar! Up on the mountainside you could see
the profile of two tigers. The tigress, and the tiger
cub. The tiger cub by now was almost as big as his
mother. Months had gone by... Just imagine it, after
so much time, they had managed to find me! It must
have been the stink that I left in my wake... !
"Roooar."
All the people of the village started shouting and
screaming:
"Help! The tigers!"
And there they went, running off into their houses
and bolting themselves in.
"Stop, don't run away... Those are my friends. Those
are the ones I told you about. The tiger cub and the
tigress that suckled me. Come out, don't be afraid."
Both the tigers came down. Pad... pad... pad... And
when they were twenty yards away, the mother
tigress started her row with me! What a row!
"Roooar! There's a fine reward, after everything I've
done for you, after I saved your life. Roooar. And I
even licked you! Roooar. Which is something that I
wouldn't even have done for my own man... for one
of my own family... Roooar. And you walked out and
left me. Roooar. And you taught us how to eat
cooked meat, so that now every time... Roooar...
that we eat raw meat, we want to throw up... and we
get dysentery... and we're sick for weeks... Rooar!"
And to this, I replied:
"Roooar. Well, so what? Don't forget that I saved
you too, by drinking your milk, because otherwise
you would have burst... Roooar! And what about
when I stood there, cooking and slaving, with my
balls getting all scorched and dried up, eh? Roooar!
And you, there, behave yourself, because, even if
you are grown up now... " [He threatens the tiger
cub with his fist.]
Then, you know how these things are, when a family
loves each other... We made our peace. I gave her a
little tickle under the chin... The tigress gave me a
lick... and the tiger cub gave me his paw... And I
gave him a wallop.. And I pulled his mother's tail a
bit... And then I gave her a whack on the tits, which

she likes... and a kick in the bollocks for the tiger

cub, and he was pleased too. [Turning to the people
locked in their houses.] Alright! Row's over. We've
made peace again... Don't be afraid, don't be
afraid!" [To the tigers.]
"Hey, you'd better keep all your teeth in, like this.
Ummm. [He completely covers his own teeth with
his lips.] Don't let them see them. Ummm. And keep
your claws in your paws. Hide your claws, under
your armpits... Walk on your elbows, like this." [He
indicates how.]
The people began to come out... A couple of them
stroked the tigress's head...
"Oh, isn't she lovely... !" "Ooochy coochy coochy...
And look at the little one... Coochy-coo..."
Endless lickings, little tickles, head-scratchings, and
for the tiger cub too. Then the children, four of the
children, got up on the tigress's back. The our of
them got up there, and, schloop, schloop, schloop...
the tigress walked to and fro, like a horse. Then she
lay down, and stretched out. Then four other young
lads grabbed the tiger cub's tail, and started
dragging him off. [He mimes the tiger cub being
dragged backwards, and trying to stop himself by
digging his claws into the ground.]
"Roooar."
And I was there, walking behind, to keep an eye on
him. [Waving his fist.] Because tigers have long
memories!
Then they began to play, rolling around and doing
somersaults. You should have seen them: they
played all day, with the women, and with the
children, and with the dogs, and with the cats,
although every now and then one of the cats
disappeared, but nobody noticed, because there
were so many of them anyway!
One day, while they were there romping around, we
heard the voice of one of the peasants, a little old
fellow, coming down from the mountains, yelling:
"Help, people, help! The white bandits have arrived
at my village! They're killing all our horses, they're
killing our cows. They're carrying off our pigs... and
they're carrying off our women too. Come and help
us... bring your rifles..."
And the people replied:
"But we haven't got any rifles!"

"But we do have the tigers!" said I.

So we take the tigers... Plod... plod... pod...
scramble... scramble... We go up the hill, and we go
down the other side, to the other village. There were
the soldiers of Chiang Kai Shek, shooting, stealing,
looting and killing.
"The tigers!"
"Roooar!"
The minute they saw these two beasts and heard
them roaring, the soldiers of Chiang Kai Shek
dropped their trousers, shat on their shoes... and off
hey ran!
And from that day on, every time that Chiang Kai
Shek's men arrived in one of the nearby villages,
they used to come and call us:
"The tigers!"
And off we'd go. Sometimes they used to turn up
from two different places at the same time. They
wanted us all over the region. They even used to
come and book us a week in advance. One time,
twelve villages turned up all at once... What were we
going to do?
"We've only got two tigers... We can't be everywhere
at once... What are we going to do?"
"Fake ones! We'll make fake tigers!" I said
"What do you mean, fake?"
"Simple. We've got the model here. Well, we make
heads out of a mixture of glue and paper, papier
mach. We make a mask. We make holes for the
eyes, just the same as the tiger and the tiger cub,
and then we make a hinged jaw. One person goes
inside, like this, in the head, and goes: Squink...
squink... squink... moving their arms... Then another
one gets in behind the first one, and then a third
one, behind, with his arm out behind, to be the tail,
like this. Then, to end up with, we need a piece of
cloth to go over the top, a yellow cloth. All yellow,
with black stripes. And we'd better make sure to
cover their legs, because six legs for one tiger is a
bit excessive. Then we're going to have to roar. So,
now we're going to have roaring lessons. Let's have
you, over here. All those who are going to be fake
tigers, over here. We're going to start lessons, and

the tigers will be our teachers. Come on. Let's hear

how well you can roar!!
"Roar!" There you are. Now, you, repeat. [He turns
to one of the peasants.]
"Rooar!"
"Again."
"Rooar."
"Louder. Listen to the tiger cub."
"Roooar!"
"Again."
"Roooar."
"Again. Louder!"
"Roooar."
"In chorus!" [He begins conducting like the
conductor of an orchestra.]
"Rooooarrr!"
All day long there was such a racket in the village
that a poor old man who was passing by, a traveller,
was found stone dead, behind a wall. He died from
fright. [He mimes someone frozen stiff, like a
statue.]
But this time, when Chiang Kai Shek's soldiers
came back again they saw, they heard, and they
screamed:
"The tigers!!!"
"Roooarrr!"
Off they ran, and they didn't stop till they got to the
sea. And then, one of the Partys political
commissars came to see us, and applauded us, and
said:
"Well done, well done! This invention of the tiger is
extraordinary. The people has a degree of
inventiveness and imagination, a creativity that you'll
not find anywhere else in the world. Well done! Well
done! However, from now on, you really can't keep
the tigers with you. You're going to have to send
them back to the forest, as they were before."

"But why? We like our tigers... we're friends... we're

comrades... They protect us, and there's no need... "
"We cannot allow it. Tigers are anarchistically
inclined. They lack dialectics. We cannot assign a
role in the Party to tigers, and if they have no place
in the Party, then they have no place at the base
either. They have no dialectics. Obey the Party. Take
the tigers back to the forest."
So we agreed:
"Ok, then, we'll take them back to the forest."
But we didn't. Instead, we put them in a chicken
coop. We took out thechickens, and put the tigers in
instead. The tigers on the chickens' perch, like this...
[He mimes tigers swinging to and fro on a perch.]
And when the Party bureaucrats came by, we had
already taught the tigers what they had to do:
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" [He imitates the crowing of a
cockerel.]
The Party bureaucrat took one look, scratched his
head, and said: "Obviously a tiger cock," and away
he went.
And just as well that we had kept the tigers,
because, a short while after, the Japanese arrived!
Thousands of them, little fellows, really mean, with
bandy legs, their bums trailing along the ground,
with great big swords and enormous long rifles. With
white flags, with a red circle in the middle, on their
rifles, and another flag on their helmets, and another
flag up their bums, with another red circle and the
rays of the rising sun!
"The tigers!!!"
"Rooarr!!!"
They chucked the flags from their rifles, and they
chucked the flags from their helmets! All that was
left was the one up their bums. Zoom... whoosh...
they ran off, like a load of chickens!
This time a new Party leader turned up, and he told
us:
"Well done, you did well to disobey that other Party
commissar, the last time, because, apart from
anything else, he was a revisionist, a counterrevolutionary. You did well... ! You must always keep
the tigers present, when the enemy is around. But
as from now on, you won't need them any more.

The enemy has gone... Take the tigers back into the
forest now!"
"What, again?"
"Obey the Party!"
"Is this because of the dialectics?"
"Yes indeed!"
"Alright, fair enough!
But we didn't. We still kept them in their chicken
coop. And just as well, because once again Chiang
Kai Shek's men turned up, armed by the Americans:
with their artillery and their tanks. They came
pouring down. Thousands, thousands of them.
"The tigers!!!"
"Roooarr!"
And off they ran, like the wind! We chased them off
to the other side of the sea. And now there were no
more enemies. No more at all. And once again all
the party leaders arrived. All the leadership, with
their flags in their hands... And the flags were
waving... and they were applauding us! The fellows
from the Party, and those from the Army. And the
higher coordinating intermediary cadres. And the
higher, higher intermediary central coordinating
cadres. All of them, applauding and shouting:
"Well done! Well done! Well done! You were right to
disobey. The tiger must always remain with the
people, because it is part of the people, an invention
of the people. The tiger will always be of the
people... In a museum... No. In a zoo... It can live
there!"
"What do you mean, in a zoo?"
"Obey! You don't need them now, any more. There's
no need for the tigress now, because we don't have
any more enemies. There's just the People, the
Party, and the Army. And the People and the Party
and the Army are one and the same thing. Naturally,
we have a leadership, because if you don't have a
leadership, you don't have a head, and if there's no
head, then one is missing that dimension of
expressive dialectic which determines a line of
conduct which naturally begins from the top, but
then develops at the base, where it gathers and
debates the propositions put forward by the top, not
as an inequality of power, but as a sort of series of

determinate and invariate equations, because they

are applied in a factive coordinative horizontal mode
which is also vertical of those actions which are
posed in the positions taken up in the theses, and
which are then developed from the base, in order to
return from the base to the leadership, but as
between the base and the leadership there is
always a positive and reciprocal relationship of
democracy... ."
"THE TIIIIGERS!" [He mimes the people attacking
the Party leaders.]
"Aaaaaargh!"
Ends

HAN
PADA
N AND
THE
DISCO
VERY
OF
AMERI
CA
A
dramatic
monolog
ue by
Dario Fo
translate
d by Ed
Emery
_______
_______
_______
_______
_______
__
For all
queries
regarding
performance
rights, please
contact

Agenzia
Tolnay : info
[@]
tolnayagency.
it
For all
queries
regarding the
text, please
contact the
translator at:
ed.emery
[@]thefreeun
iversity.net
Original text
copyright
Dario Fo
Translation
copyright
Ed Emery

_______
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__
PART ONE
Lets go! Lets
go! Let go the
moorings!*
Hoist the
mainsail*. Haul
up the anchor!
Heave away!
Heave! Four
sails to the
wind! Heave!

Let go the
foresail! Were
on our way! On
our way!
Leaving
Giudecca!
Leaving the
Lagoon!
Leaving
Venice... Lets
go! Go with the
wind!*
There was a
lady in the
audience. She
said: "Oh God,
I hope its not
all going to be
like this [in
dialect]?!" The
problem is, this
is the language
used by the
sailors in the
port of Venice
in the sixteenth
century. Youn
want to
understand...? I
dont
understand it
and Ive been
performing it
for two yours
now, and you
want to
understand it
just like that...?
*
Oh, the wind
blows and fills
the sails...
Were on our

way... On our
waaaaay...!
Out! Were out!
Out on the high
seas. Im safe!
Safe!
"Safe from
what?"
"From the
Inquisition.
From the
gallows. From
being burned at
the stake! The
Holy
Inquisition,
they got it into
their heads that
I was an
accomplice of*
this witch... "
Im talking
about this
witch that the
guards hauled
off in chains...
Yes, one of
those who says
she can tell the
future. Who
has forks,*
who sticks pins
into dummies...
who strangles
cats and then
looks at their
entrails to
divine the
future, who
speaks with the
devil, who
speaks even

with the dead...

with the
spirits... Thats
going a bit
far! Ha, ha,
ha! Talking
with the dead,
indeed...! With
the devil...
once in a while
maybe... so to
speak.
Its not true
that I was her
accomplice... I
was with her
only because I
was in love.
Yes, alright, I
was her
assistant a bit,
but only as a
pretext, to
spend time
with her.
If you know
how she made
me melt* with
jealousy,
because she,
this beautiful
witch always
had amorous
admirers
hanging round
her petticoats.
All of them
paying her
compliments
and bringing
her gifts. Even
princes!
Monsignors!

Senators of the
Venetian
Republic.
There were the
members of the
Serenissima
who were
courting her...!
Not all ten of
them...! Two or
three of the
ten... But she
wasnt a
whore! But
when she was
with me, she
had eyes only
for me... She
spoke to me
with those
words that melt
you,* the
words you
invent when
youre making
love.
But what love!
She taught me
all the tricks
for knowing
what is going
to happen by
reading the
stars... the
moon!
I remember, we
were stretched
out on the sand
on the island of
Paranello... it
was night... it
was summer...

we were naked,
making love...
Suddenly she
tells me:
"Stop!!"
"Whats the
matter?" "Look
at the moon!"
"Why...?
Whats the
matter...? Are
you ashamed in
front of the
moon?"
"No... dont
you see, the
moon is big
and clear, with
all those little
clouds round
it?" "So what?"
"Its a terrible
sign that theres
going to be a
storm in a
while! Therell
be a wind
which will tear
up everything
right up to
Piazza San
Marco!"
"Dont be silly,
girl, come
on...! Theres
not even a
sign... not a
cloud in sight,
the sea is
calm... the
lagoon is as flat
as a pool of
piss. Not even

a bird in the
sky."
"Precisely... no
birds... thats
another sign
that a storm is
coming! Come
on! Get in the
boat! And off
we went,
rowing like
mad.
"But where are
we going?"
"Row!
Roooow!
Were going to
San Marco!"
We just made it
to San Marco.
We moored the
boat in a hurry,
we ran, we
crossed the
whole square,
nd just
managed to get
round a
corner... when
we were under
shelter we
heard a
hurricane that
came roaring
in: Braaam...!
An upheaval!
The waves,
coming into the
lagoon, roaring
up the lagoon,
tearing the
boats off their

moorings,
pulling them up
mooring posts
and all... Then
came two
massive
breakers, huge
and slow,
which tore up a
whole ship and
carried it into
Piazza San
Marco and
placed it down
right in from of
the church...
Then another
breaker, which
pushed it right
inside the
church... The
navy in the
nave!
The ship n the
nave moved
forward... And
there was the
priest in the
transept:
"STOOOP!" he
shouts [He
makes the
gesture of a
blessing]
BUAMM...! It
carried him off
hanging onto
the prow!
She was a
phenomenon,
this witch. She
could foretell
everything!

Shame she
didnt foretell
what happened
the day the
guards arrived
and put her in
chains on the
order of the
Holy
Inquisition.
They carried
her away to the
Inquisition
court... I was
there as she
passed by...
And at that
point I was a
coward!
Suppose the
oficial had
pointed at me,
saying:
"Werent you a
member of this
womans
coven?" "Her?
[A pause]
Never seen her
berfore in my
life!"
I was shitting
myself. The
thought of
being hauled
up before the
court of the
Inqusition, with
the judge
pointing his
finger at me,
saying: "Now,
you, tell me

about the
intrigues that
you were all
having with the
devils, with the
goats* of the
Antichrist."
Made me feel
ill. "But I know
nothing!" "Put
him on the
wheel at once!"
Me, the idea of
being put on
the wheel, with
all those little
spikes... which
are distinctly
painful! And
then for sure
Id end up
getting my arse
burned!
So off I went,
with the flames
coming out of
my backside,
running down
to where the
big quay was...
there was a
brigantine
weighing
anchor.. I said:
"Do you need a
sailmaker...?*
Somebody to
stitch up* your
sails? Ready
for duty, here I
am!" And I
went straight
aboard.

I went and hid

below decks,
hiding away*
like a rat...
Then, when we
were out on the
high seas I
stuck my head
out and
thought,
theyre
probably going
just round the
corner... at
most to
Chioggia. "
Where are you
going?" I ask.
To Seville.
Really just
round the
corner!!
"Excuse me,
will you be
stopping
anywhere en
route, for a
breather?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Tunisia!!"
Me, cast adrift
on the sea,
twenty-five
days on board a
ship!!
Me, who was
born on land...
I saw the light
of day between
Brescia and
Bergamo, me,
and when I see

water it makes
me nervous
even looking at
it... I
remember, the
first and only
time they ever
got me into
water, I was
two days old...
for my
baptism... I still
have
nightmares!!
We arrived in
Tunisia, and
from Tunisia
we went to
Malage, and
from Malaga
we went to
Seville. But
Seville isnt on
the sea!!! I
always thought
it was on the
sea... No!
Seville is in a
huge plain,
with a canal
dug in the time
of the Arabs,
which reaches
right down to
the sea. You
arrive with
your ship, you
wait, horses
arrive, mules
arrive, they
hitch you up
like a cart and
they haul you
along like a

barge... And so
you slip along,
travelling along
this river, till
you reach the
citys port.
Seville... A
marvellous
city, you ought
to see it! There
are all these red
and gold
domes, and the
tall bell-towers
climbing to the
skies... There
are all these
houses with
funtains
everywhere,
you go through
the streets with
these sprays
keeping you
cool.*
I was
enchanted as I
looked at this
city... And as I
disembark I
find myself
standing in
front of a big
pile of wood, a
bonfire, and on
top of it are
four heretics,
sitting there...
quietly blazing
away.
"Whos that
that theyre

burning?
"Heretics!"
"And who
sentenced
them?" "The
court of the
Inquisition...!!"
Oh for
heavens sake!
I escape from
Venice with the
flames up my
backside... and
now I find this
same fire in
front of my
balls!!
These fanatics
were burning
people one
after the other:
heretics who
refused to
recant, wizards
who werent
willing to
condemn
witchcraft,
Moors who
were not
willing to
convert to
Christianity...
and Jews... for
any reason
whatever!
They werent
doing it
because they
were nasty
people, they
were burning

them to free
their souls...
Their bodies
turned to
charcoal* and
their souls
happy and
going up to
heaven!
A stink of
burning flesh!
But these
Seville folk
werent surly
and gloomy by
nature not a
bit of it... As
soon as theyd
finished this
collective potroast*... they
threw away all
the black
garments* that
they were
wearing and
threw
themselves all,
men and
women alike,
into great
merriment,
with dancing
and singing...
And I
remember that
they had some
"castanets"
thats what they
call them, Arab
kind of stuff,
made of wood,
which they

click together,
and they got
music out of
them,,,
TRATATATAT
A [He mimes
dancing and
using the
castanets):
"Ah, ah... sweet
girl
Because of the
great heat
TRATATATAT
A
We dived into
the fountain
TRATATATAT
A
And for you to
dry yourself...
I lent you my
shirt
And you didnt
even notice
That in it
There was
hidden my
heart!"
TRATATATAT
A
And wheeboom-boom-

boom, they had

fireworks...
And the sky
was all lit up!
They finished
all their things
with fireworks.
And precisely
there, with the
fireworks, I
immediately
found myself a
job, because
Im the best
artificer in the
whole world...
I made brilliant
fireworks, to
make them
drunk. I took a
large tube, I
filled it with
saltpetre, I put
in sulphur and
then carbon,
then I added
eight canes
tied* together,
then another
twelve canes,
then all the
fuses one
long, another a
bit longer,
another a bit
shorter... then I
put a match to
it all:
PIAMM...
BAAM...
I was a firstrate artificer,
me!

Just for the

record, might I
remind you that
precisely at that
time a certain
person had just
returned from
the Indies
Christopher
Columbus,
from Genoa,
who was
nobodys fool...
hed done the
whole crossing
in less than a
month, but not
going directly,
but getting to
the Indies from
round the back!
What a brain!
Hed got there
round the other
way...!
Because in
those days,
when people
took the stright
route to the
Indies, going
via the
Mediterranean,
you arrived in
Tunisia, in
Tunisia there
was the desert,
you took a
camel: [He
makes dance
movements
suggesting the
lopsided walk

of the camel]
camel, camel,
camel, camel,
camel. Then
you get to the
mountains with
mule or a
donkey:
donkey,
donkey,
donkey,
donkey. You
get off, theres
a river, a boat,
you go over,
and then theres
the desert:
desert, desert,
desert, camel,
camel, camel,
camel, then
there were the
mountains
again, a mule, a
horse, a mule
gain... Then
you get to the
sea... At least,
the sea! Boat,
ship... Uh-uh...
camel, camel,
cam5el again...
It was a bit
long...!!
You had people
setting off as
children, and
coming back as
old men...
The terrible
thing was, you
could

imemdiately
recognise
people whod
been to the
Indies... for the
way they
walked... Look
how they
walked... [He
does a walk
which is all
wonky and
rolling*]
Remember the
camel...?
So, what a
brain that
Christopher
Columbus! He
went by sea in
thirty-five
days, taking the
world by its
backside...!
But one should
say, if anyone
was taken by
the backside, it
was him,
because
nobody gave a
damn about his
great discovery.
Hed say: "I
got there via
the Canaries in
thirty-five
days!" "Yes,
sure, relax,
relax..."

He was of no
interest to
anyone because
hed not
brought back
anything! Gold,
hed brought
none. Shiny
precious
stones, none.
Corals, none...
Just a few
manky pearls,
ten natives, all
[...]* with their
feathers all
awry... a few
parrots, scared,
terrified... with
their feathers
all upright...
and with their
eyes all round,
as if they were
saying:
"Help...!"
The monkeys
were nice,
though... With
hairy
backsides...
bright red...
and
masturbating
from morning
to night.
"But
Christopher
Columbus,
what kind of
rubbish have
you brought
us?" "I took

what I could
find."
I knew this
man, and he
told me: "Johan
Padan, trust
me... I know
for sure, that in
this new world
theres gold by
the bucketful...
If you come
with me, Ill
cover you with
gold, Ill make
you rich!"
You get it? He
was leaning on
me* for me to
join his crew.
Good idea. Im
a phenomenon!
I know how to
read the
Astrolabe... Im
a sribe, I have a
neat hand, Im
a marvellous
hieroglyphist.
Im a sail
mender. I sew
up sails... I can
handle
cannons. I
know the
winds. I know
languages,
theres no
language in this
world that I
dont speak. I
converse in all
languages, all

dialect, in dead
languages,
living
languages,
those that are
just so-so...
And then im a
person who,
when I hear a
foreign
language thats
spoken all
intricately, sos
you dont
undestand... I
listen to it for a
week... TAC!
By the end I
speak it as well
as he does!
I dont
understand
what Im
saying, but I
can speak it!
Once again he
asks me if Id
fancy joining
him for his
third voyage...
and I tell them:
"My dear
discoverer, if
you find a way
of getting to
these Indies on
foot... Ill come
along behind
you riding on a
pig."

Never speak
vainly in jest,*
because the
next thing you
might really
find yourself
riding on a pig.
But well come
to that in a bit.
To start with, it
happened that
there began a
terrible
persecution
against the
Jews. A huge
trap invented
by that fine
Catholic, the
Holy Queen
Isabella and her
beloved
husband
Ferdinand, to
chase the Jews
out of Spain
and take away
all their goods,
their money
and their
houses.
In Seville there
were Italians
from Florence
and Genoa.
Shrewd
operators.
Bankers, and
they were
making the
most of a good
opportunity,
doing good

business. They
went round
getting the
houses off the
Jews, secretly,
before they
were
confiscated
from them...
and in
exchange they
promised to
give them
another house,
in Livorno or
Naples, to the
same value...
On oath...!
Written on a
letter of credit.
It was a
swindle, and I
knew how it
worked, by the
simple fact that
for a while I
had been
engaged in the
service of one
of these
bankers. Doing
what? Doing
the writing. As
I told you, I
was a fully
fledged
scribe.* So first
of all Id write
these "letters of
credit". What a
hand... Ha!
Then they,
these Jews,
would arrive in

Tuscany and
Lombardy, and
theyd get back
what they had
left to the bank.
It was an
ingenious
gimmick!!
The trouble
was, the Queen
got the idea
that there was
some kind of
swindle here...
Her crown
went into a
spiral dive.*
She picks up
ten of these
Jews, gives
them a bit of a
burning, they
spilled the
beans, then
they caught the
Genoves and
the Florentine
bankers, and
they gave them
another
burning. And
then the Judge
of the
Inquisition got
his hands on
the letters of
credit... the
ones that I had
written... Just
my bad luck!
He reads them
and he says:
"Nice work...!
Id like to meet

the person who

wrote them!"
And what do I
do? Wait till
they catch me?
Im off!
With the flames
at my backside
again, in a flash
I shot off to the
port, and with
one great leap
like a
kangaroo,* I
get myself on
board one of
the ships of the
Genovese
Columbuss
fleet, which
happens to be
setting sail on
its fourth
voyage... It had
already pulled
away from the
quayside.
I walked on
water!
Not even time
to ask: "Do you
still need
me...?" Off we
go, and devil
take the
hindmost!
When we got
out on the high
seas, I made
myself known.
"I can do all

trades. Im an
artificer, I can
sew, I can read
the Astrolabe, I
can do
cannons..."
"No! We dont
need any of
those trades,
theyre all
covered! The
only job we
have is looking
after the pigs,
cows, donkeys
and horses that
are down in the
hold!"
The hold was
stuffed full
with these
creatures, for
the reason that
in that world
across the seas
there were
none of the
breeds that we
were used to.
Horses, mules,
donkeys, cows
and pigs had
never been
seen there! So
all the shios
that went down
there were full
of these
animals, to
settle the place!
So I found
myself having
to do the
voyage below

decks, in
among all thse
animals, that
were shitting
form morning
to night! They
werent used to
the rolling* of
the waves...
Every time
there was a
roll* [He
gestures to
suggest the
animals
shitting]:
PARAPUM
One,
PARAPUN,
two, PAA!
Then I
understood
why it is that
the French,
when they want
to wish you
good luck, they
say: "Plenty of
Shite!"
I was in luck
right up to my
neck!
There wasnt
one night when
there wasnt a
terrible storm,
there were
these huge
breakers that
crashed onto*
the ship, and
tossed it about

here and
there... these
animals down
below banging
about... There
were the horses
kisking out, the
cows sticking
their horns*
into the
donkeys, the
donkeys
kicking out at
the pigs, and
the pigs in the
middle
shouting:
"STOOOOP
IT!" By the end
they were all
gashed* and
bleeding.
They called
meL "Sewer.
Heres your
needle... Sew!"
I sewed up the
cows, the pigs,
all their
wounds... I
saved all those
animals... who
loved me so
much as a
result!
In the end we
arrived at the
island of San
Domingo!
What a
splendid place!

Never in my
life had I seen
waters so clear!
You could see
the bottom, the
corals, the
coloured fishes,
there were
these plants
climbing way
up in the sky,
monkeys flying
about, birds
singing.
No sooner had
we dropped
anchor than
these Indian
natives came
out to meet
us... in these
little boats that
they call
canoes.
They came out
singing,
laughing... they
were all
coloured,
naked... with
one feather,
and thats it!
And the [...]*
that they had!
They rowed
with short oars,
paddles,*
which they
moved rapidly
on one side
then the other.

Nice people...
Good looking...
Clean...
Because
whenever they
had a chance
theyd be
diving into the
water and
washing with
great pleasure,
and they swim
about like
fishes, even in
the depths of
the sea!
Theyd find
pearls and
coral, and then
theyd put them
into their
mouths... like
this: "You want
a pearl? Take!"
[He mimes the
action of
spitting]
"Thank you!"
Really nice
people!
Particularly the
girls... naked as
the day they
were born...
without
shame... and
without
shyness:
breasts to the
wind... bellies
to the wind...
buttocks to the

wind...
everything to
the wind...! Go,
what a wind!
They were so
kind, these
natives! Going
really far!
Particularly the
women.
There was no
nead for chatup lines... no!
All you had to
do was a bit of
pantomime to
indicate that
you liked one
of them, and
she would
embrace you
straight away...
These girls had
a magnificent
ritual: theyd
come over,
smile, lower
their eyes,
theyd take you
by the hand,
and take you
off into the
forest! They
fell on your
neck: you, laid
out, and her
stretched out
on top of you,
and there
would break
out an enchated
love-making,
of sighs and

laughter! But
not on the
ground! On
leaves... large
leaves which
they call
"leaves of
love"... single
leaves... double
leaves... oneand-a-half
sized leaves...
And when the
love-making
began, there
was a singing,
and a countersinging of the
birds, and the
butterflies
singing... there
wre monkeys
flying from tree
to tree...
"UHUUUHHH
... AHAAAA..
Go to it!" they
called out. "Go
to it!"
And as for
eating, theyd
take the food
out of their
own mouths to
give to you!
But us, the
Christian
Cathoics... fine
people... First
wed go
through all the
ceremonials...

offering them
little bells,
useless glass
trinkets... and
then we started
ransacking
everything they
had: carrying
off their
women and
children, on
our ships,
transporting
them as slaves
to our holy
Christian
world.
Anyway, at a
certain point
they decided
theyd had
enough.* They
turned up from
all sides in
thousands and
thousands,
armed with
bows and
arrows,
absolutely
furious, and
they shouted:
"Give us back
our people, or
well attack
you."*
And our
captains were
all amazed:
"Why are you
getting all
worked up
AND

ANGRY... You
surely werent
thinking that
we were taking
these relations
of yours off as
slaves, were
you...? We just
wanted to take
them for a bit
of a trip...
introduce them
to a few nice
people... fine
cities... teach
them the
doctrine of God
the Holy
Trinity who
lives in
heaven... And
then introduce
them to the
king and to our
Catholic queen,
who is as sweet
and good as
bread!"
And they
replied: "No
thank you
weve had
enough of your
little trips...
because out of
all those that
you took away
on your first
and your
second
voyages...
nobody has
ever come
back. Come on,

give us back
the ones youve
got here... right
now! If not,
well start
firing arrows
and spears
against you!"
No sooner had
they said
"arrows and
spears" than
from on board
the ships a load
of cannons
poked out and
began firing
broadsides:
TA-TA-ABOOM! And
you could see
all these people
flying up in the
air,
slaughtered...
At this point,
the horses
came leaping
out, ridden by
horsemen...
And they
sewed great
terror... because
those people
didnt know
about horses,
theyd never
seen them
before, and
they thought
that the horse
and rider were
one single
thing... a

horrible
betwixery* of
nature: "A
monster," they
shouted. "A
monster!" And
they turned
pale with fear
and ran away.
And they, the
horsemen,
shouted,
laughed,
speared,
spiked, cut
them in two...
heads flying
about. A
slaughter5
realy carried
out by
imbeciles!
Not that Im a
namby-pamby.
Im no child at
heart, already
at the age of
eighteen I was
in the infantry
of the
Lanzichenecchi
... and Ive
done my share
of slaughter in
battle... and
afterwards too.
But I was
killing people
who were
trying to kill
me! But this
was blind and
senseless
butchery.

Killing for
killings sake.
These
Christians were
grabbing
children and
banging them
against trees:
splattered!*
Cutting women
in two, in four,
enough to
make you
throw up!
The chaplain
told me: "Johan
Padan, come
out of this
gloominess.*
What are they
doing, when
alls said and
done? Are they
killing
Christians? No,
they are killing
people who
have no souls,
no hearts, no
religion... They
have neither
soul nor god...
When they kill
one of these,
its like killing
a dog. Dont go
making a big
scene out of
it!"
Im not making
a big scene. I

just dont like

it!
My stomach
had shut up, so
much so that I
wanted to go
home. I kept a
look-out all the
time to see if
there were any
ships going
back... But they
werent going
back, they were
only going
down! There
wre ships
arriving every
week, four or
five at a time,
offloading the
animals that
they had in the
hold, then
refurnishing
themselves
with water and
vegetables, and
setting off to
the West:
"Where are you
going?"
"Looking for
Eldorado," they
would answer,
and, with
curses,* they
would raise all
their sails and
off theyd go.
I really didnt
like it, staying
with these

shipmates of
mine, who
were good only
for getting
drunk, playng
at cards and
dice, carving
each other up
in brawls, and
then, into the
bargain,*
seeing them all
aroused and
lauching
themselves
against the
women. What
kind of life was
this? The only
thng that I
really enjoyed
was trying to
talk with the
people. As
youll have
realised, Ive
got this thing
about
languages...
knowing how
people speak...
what they
think, what
theyre
saying...
putting
together weird
words and
discovering a
whole means of
expression. But
it was hard to
get close to
them... They

got frightened,
they were
always terrified
that,
afterwards, all
of a sudden, a
horse-monster
would come
leaping out.
Me, in order to
put them at
ease, used to
play the clown.
When I met
them I
pretended that I
was afraid at
the sight of
them: "Oh! A
savage... a
monster!" And
they would
laugh...
Sometimes.
So I would ask:
"Indians, how
do you say
sun?" And
they would say:
"Alegh". "And
the word for
sea?" "Criaba."
And how do
you say
man?"
"Opplaca." And
how do you say
woman?"
"Feila." And
how do you say
baby?" "Icme."
"And how do
you say a

woman making
love?" "There
are so many
ways of saying
it, because
there are so
many ways of
doing it."
I asked them
about
everything, I
stole their
words... And
they taught
me... and one
day I turned
up... and there
were five or six
natives having
an argument...
They came
over to me, and
I said: "Able
esset alter
prial ti io
mastic... [He
improvises a
patter in
grammelot:
with gestures
he suggests
interrupting an
argument
between two
groups of
people,
listening,
arguing,
laughing, and
then doing a
mocking
dance] ...they
look at me in
amazement: "A

white Indian!" I
was speaking
Indian!
I was almost
sorry when
they gave the
order: "Were
returning
home!"
But I was so
happy to be
going back,
that I loaded up
double what
the others were
loading: I
loaded the
water, I loaded
the
vegetables... I
also loaded five
big fat pigs
which we were
supposed to
offload at
Santo
Domingo.
Meanwhile
others were
herding onto
the ship a load
of Indians,
prisoners,
slaves... a
hundred and
twenty five
imprisoned in
the hold, down
in the bottom,*
in place of
ballast... And
so as not to let
them scream

and shout they

had put stuff*
into their
mouths, almost
hrottling*
them.
We leave. Very
hot... Little to
eat... Not much
to drink. These
poor devils of
Indians start
dying. We take
their bodies
and throw them
into the sea.
For a few days,
at our stern, in
our wake, we
see a shoal of
big fishes
following us,
waiting for
their Indian
food.
They liked the
Indians!
So the sailors
said: "Why
dont we fish
with these
savages?" They
took freshly
dead Indians
started using
the Indians
stuck hooks
through them,
thre them into
the sea and

fished with
them
They caught
big fishes, and
they were
happy.
Except that
every once in a
while the Good
Lord gets upset
about this kind
of thing, and he
sent a storm,
with such a
wind that you
could see the
sea coming in
great rollers*
and scooping
up the waves.
We fond
ourselves with
all our sails
torn to shreds,
and we were
dancing about
like drunkards.
Then we hear a
tremendous
"crash"
weve hit a
rock! "Sinking!
Were sinking!
Lower the
boats!" There
were three of
them.
I ask the
captain:
"Where do I
put myself?"

"No, theres no
room for you
five, the animal
keepers... You
sink with the
Indians and
with the pigs!"
I dont know
how I hit on the
idea maybe it
was out of
anger... maybe
out of pity, but
I threw open
the hold
hatches, and all
the Indians
came running
out, climbing
all over me...
trampling me
underfoot and
diving into the
sea!
Luckily I had
my other four
companions
there, the
animal keepers,
and they picked
me up.
"Quick! Get a
move on,
because the
ships sinking!"
The pigs were
still locked
down in the
hold, and they
were squealing
and scratching

about
frantically.
"Lets save the
pigs!" "Why?"
"You never go
to sea without
pigs!" Because
these animals
have an
unrivalled
sense of
direction, they
can find their
way in the sea,
even when
theres a storm.
You dive into
the water, and
they: TAK!
They
immediately
point their
snouts at the
nearest coast...
When they
make this noise
four times:
UHO, UHO,
UHO! it means
that the coasts
there, and
theyre never
wrong.
And thats also
the reason why
the Genoese
have a saying:
Every ship
should always
carry with it a
pig, a real pig,
in addition to
the captain

whos a pig
anyway.
I and my
companions go
below and each
grab a pig, and
each of us tied
to our own
pigs, "To the
sea...
OHOHHH...
BOOM!"
Now that wed
developed
some sudden
Christian
passion for
pigs.
I remembered
it from an
account in
Homer, the
poet... when he
talks about
shipwrecked
Greek sailors
who saved
themselves by
hanging onto
pigs, because
the pig is so fat
and round that
it never sinks!
It goes down a
bit, and then:
BLO, BLO,
BLO... PLUF!
[He mimes the
pig bobbing up
again] It bobs
up again! Its a
lifebelt of fat!

It has that curly

little tail, made
specially, so
that you can
hold on and
you dont slip
off, you hang
on to that tail,
and off he
goes... [He
mimes the
rapid
swimming of
the pig]
wheesh... tritri
tri... a lifebelt
with little legs!
We were
hanging onto
those pigs so
tightly that
when the
waves came:
"Hey no, were
not going
under!"
[Coming up
again he
mimes kissing
the pig]
SMACK... A
big kiss!
Another wave
and...
"Whoooo..."
SMACK!
Another big
kiss... And the
pigs started
enjoying this...
so theyd dive
under without
there being
waves!

Anyway, there
we were, the
five of us, each
hanging onto
his life-belt
animal, kissing
it..., and we
arrived,
through the
rolling waves,
which carried
off* our
trousers and
shirts, to the
coast. If the
Court of the
Inquistion had
discovered us
there, theyd
have burned us
alive.
We reached the
coast! The pigs
had carried us
to safety... and
now there we
were, on the
sand of the
beach, naked,
hanging onto
our pigs, who
were of course
naked too.
God, it was
absolutely
freezing...! I
look at my
skin... it was a
kind of bluey
colour... and
my
companions
were blueish

too, and the

pigs too....
The only one
who was
alright was the
Catalan, who
was so fat that
we called him
Thirty-tripes.
With a belly
like that he
didnt even
need a pig... in
fact it had been
him who saved
his pig! Then
there was
another one,
who was a redhead, so we
called him Red.
And a black
man, a Muslim
from Tripoli,
we called him
Blacky. A
skinny man,
whom we
called Skinny...
We seafaring
folk have a
terrific
imagination
when it comes
to nicknames!
And I said:
"Whats the
point of that...
Weve been
saved, but in a
little while,
with this cold,

were going to
freeze to death!
But then, talk
about a
miracle!
I look at the
coastline, the
hill... Theres
people there!
There are
natives coming
down, running.
But a hundred,
two hundred,
all armed with
bows and
arrows. "God,"
I said, "if these
natives have
met any
Christians,
were done for,
theyll tear us
limb from
limb!
I pluck up
courage... and I
set about
shouting words
in their
language,
which I had
learned:
"Aghiudu, en l
sal... chiom
saridde
aabasjia
Jaspania..."
They
understood
everything!
"Mujacia

coccecajo
mobaputio
cristean!"
"Eheeee?" The
only word
which they had
not understood
was
"Christians",
we were saved!
[He begins a
dialogue in
grammelot, nd
then he
translates what
he has just said
for the benefit
of his
companions]
"Give us
something to
cover ourselves
with, because
its so cold here
that well all
turn to ice and
die like stiffs!"
"But what are
we supposd to
give you, snce
were even
more naked
than you are?!"
But look at the
intelligence of
these natives:
they took some
brushwood and
set light to it,
they made a
bonfire, and
then they stood
round us in a
circle to protect

us from the
wind...
Then, since the
village was a
long way off,
they made so
many
bonfires...
every hundred
paces there was
a bonfire, nd
then they
carried us
bodily, because
there were two
hundred of
them, and they
took us on to
the next
bonfire... a bit
of a singeing,
and then off a
gain... another
singeing... and
another for the
pigs, a little
singeing, a
singeing...
Ouch, ouch!
Because they
didnt know
about pigs, and
thought they
were just
another breed
of Christians...
a bit on the fat
side.
We arrive at the
village, which
has well-built
huts, and they

put us up in a
big hut like
this, with a
brazier in the
middle. Theres
stuff to eat and
drink.
"If you ask
me," says Red,
"this overhospitable
treatment, both
for us and for
the pigs,
promises no
good at all. I
hope theyre
not going to
turn out to be
cannibals, and
theyre treating
us well just
sos they can
eat us."
"Dont talk
rubbish!" says
Thirty-tripes.
"This is my
third voyage to
the Indies, and
Ive never met
Indians who
had bits of bits
of peoples
arms and legs
hanging up in
their huts to
dry, or pickled
in brine, as was
the story put
about by those
bullshitters
Amerigo

Vespucci and
Alfonso
Gamberan.
They just tell
those stories to
give
themselves a
good pretext
for treating the
natives like
animals.
Theyre
cannibals, so
we can make
slaves of
them."
Anyway,
leaving all that
aside, I have to
say that these
natives were
certainly the
kindest and
most polite
Indians that I
had ever met.
To put us to
bed... they
didnt make us
lie on some old
pagliasse,
maybe with
fleas in, no!
Hnging in the
air, in
hammocks...
you dont know
what a
hammock is!
Its a net
jhanging
between two
beams of

wood, with
strings holding
it tut here and
there. Then
theres a little
stove
underneath, to
keep you warm
when you go to
bed. But its
difficult to get
into! If youre
not used to it,
you sit on it
with your bum
and [He mimes
the hammock
turning turtle,
and himself
ending up on
the floor]
PATAPUM! A
sore bum! No!
You have to
climb up with
one knee [He
mimes getting
up into the
hammock, with
one leg
folded] ... Then
you spread this
out [He mimes
spreading out
the fabric of
the hammock],
then you
stretch this one
out [He mimes
straightening
up his other
leg], and then...
PATAPUNFET
E...! [He mimes

falling to the
ground].
Because its not
even a question
of getting a
knee up... its a
question of
balance, of
equilibrium, a
questions of
dynamics, so
that when you
get up, you
have to arrange
you knee like
this, but then
give a good
push! [He
mimes making
the hammock
move like a
swing] Then
you turn this
one, and that
one, then you
go YOM, you
stand back,*
you wait, one,
two, three...
One that pulls
you,*, one that
goes down,
knee second,
turn this way,
turn that way!!
[He mimes
making the
hammock move
like a swing]
The force of
dynamics!
I was so good
at it that in no

time at all I
was stretched
out. My stove
down below,
giving off heat,
and I slept like
a baby. One
night I felt a
tender
sweetness here,
right by my
face, then two
wonderful
round things...
I go down with
my hands, I
feel two other
round bits... It
was a girl... a
naked girl who
had come into
my hammock
in order to
embrace me, to
do
tendernesses*
with me. And
all my
companions
had a girl in
their
hammocks too,
embracing
them. You cant
imagine how
tender they
were! But it
was already
hard enough
staying in the
hammock on
yourn own,
imagine the
problems when

you were two!!

I try to reach
out an arm to
put it round her
waist, and I try
to get my legs
round
her... OHHHH
AH...
PAA...! Everyt
hing goes
topsy-turvy! I
end up with my
arse in the
brazier!
AAAH! [He
mimes
springing back
like a spring]
PAAA! and I
was already
back on the
hammock...!
The force of
dynamics!
But I wanted to
make love with
this girl. Just as
well that she
taught me:
"Pay
attention... First
thing: the trick
is to make a
little fork of
your big toe
and the toe
next to it...
Then you
spread you legs
so that the
hammock is
well spread
out... Spread

out, but then

you pass your
arm under
mywaist...
TACCHTA...
You slip onto
me, changing
the position of
the legs and
holding on with
the toes and...
PAA!!
I went down,
head-first, onto
the ground...
No, I didnt
reach the
ground. My
balls were
caught in the
net: "Ouuch!"
And theres
her, this girl,
relaxing in the
hammock,
swinging and
laughing her
head off. But
Im a terribly
determined
person...!
While my
companions
were flat out
under the
plants at siesta
time, I would
creep off into
the hut with the
hammock, and
I would do
balancing
exercises... Id
let go with one

hand, let go
with one foot,
Ive go head
over heels with
my head
down... I
became a
hammockdancer, better
than any in the
world...! I
made love, I
hung on with
everythng, with
my nails, my
toes, my ears,
my teeth... my
buttocks! And
when I got
carried away,*
one, two, [He
mimes looping
the loop in the
hammock]
IHHEHHOHH
AHH! Looping
the loop!!
It was
wonderful
being in that
place. The only
thing that I
really didnt
like... Was the
way they
treated their
animals. They
have these
creatures that
you dont know
about, which
they called
"dandon", a
kind of scruffy

chicken... but
which eblieves
itself to be a
peacock! It has
a neck that
looks like an
ostrich with
leprosy, and
two eyes with
cataracts...!
The only real
thing they have
is their
feathers, lovely
blue-black
feathers... and
when he
fancies himself,
he goes
BRUUUM...
and opens out
this fan [He
spreads his
arms and
mimes the
majestic walk
of the turkey]
and walks all
boldly*, as if to
say: "Look at
the feathers
coming out
of my bum!"
Anyway, at that
moment, these
natives jump
on him, pull
out his
feathers...
while hes still
alive! [He
mimes the
Indians pulling
out the birds

feathers]
NYAK-NYAK!
"Ouuuuuch!"
What a
squawking!
NYAKNYAK... And
the turkey
running round
here and there,
and them:
NYAK-NYAKNYAK...!
Really cruel!
"Were not
cruel," they tell
me. "Its
because were
preparing a
meal... If you
take the turkey
and kill it, and
then you pluck
its feathers, the
feathers come
away with skin
attached, and
with the skin
bits of meat
too! And all the
flesh
underneath* is
woody, stuffy,
tastes of
nothing! But if,
instead, you
catch the
turkey live:
SNYAKSNYAKSNYA
K, you pluck
all its feathers,
you make a

whole bit of
movement, the
blood
circulates, all
the nerves ar
eon edge, its
like giving it a
massage... The
flesh becomes
soft, and when
you eat it, its
really tender,
like butter...!
And they did
the same thing
with the wild
pigs that they
had, which
were full of
bristles. They
would pull out
their hair in
handfuls:
PYOW PYOW
PYOW
TRALLA...!
But theyre not
doing it out of
cruelty, they
have this
religion which
says: "Eating is
life!" Making
food to eat was
like a religion
for those
natives.
Were just
crude, were
country folk,
us... a bit of
meat... a bit of
a roasting* on
the fire, and

then off you

go.
Granzeola...
boil it up, and
away you go!
When they do
their cooking,
they do it with
all the emotion
of a ritual.
For example,
when they cook
an iguana...
What is an
iguana? It is an
animal, a
tremendous
lizard, which
you folks dont
know about.
Its revolting...
its a dwarf
dragon...! It has
these crests
precisely like a
dwarf dragon,
it has a mouth
which, if it
bites you...! Its
got teeth
sticking out
which tear you
apart... eyes out
here... and at
the end of its
tail it has a
sting which, if
it gets, you,
NYAK...
youre done
for! It moves
on legs that
have huge

claws at the
end. You cant
catch it
anywhere... the
only way is to
catch it by the
crest on its
back, the big
crest, the last of
the crests, a big
bone... TAC,
you catch it
[He mimes
lifting up the
big crest, and
the iguana
wriggling
around,
struggling*
with its legs,
tail and head]
and he: NYA,
NYA! Keep
still, you! [He
stretches out
his arm, to
avoid being
scratched by
the animal]
Keep still, I
said! Then you
take a cooking
pot, a big pot
of boiling
water, you put
salt in... and
him, the
iguana, you
toss him in, all
nice and juicy*
as he is, with
the lid on top...
which is the
way he likes it!

Boom-boom!
Inside hes
making a
racket:
PATAPAPAA!
His mouth
goes:
TAPATAPAA!
His eyes go:
TROPETITOT
OO. The whole
crest: TOM
PIM TOM. The
bones: TOM,
TOM. The
legs: PEM
PEM... The
tail: PAA! [He
mimes taking it
out of the po
and showing it
to the
audience,
amazed] A
chicken!
You eat this
iguana... The
first times I ate
one, I swear,
VLAAM, I
vomited at
once! Because
I wasn used to
the taste, which
is important
there. You have
to get a taste
for it... And its
true, once I got
a taste for it...
after a week... I
vomted all the
same!

These people
were happy
people, joyous,
and every
opportunity
was an
occasion for a
party.
One time, some
natives arrived
from the other
coast... They
were
marvellous
giants! Narrow
at the waist...
solid buttocks
like Saint
Sebasian,* long
legs like
acrobats, long
hands,
sparkling
eyes... And the
women they
had with them:
youve never
seen the like!
They had long
necks, round
faces, and what
eyes! Hair that
came down to
their knees,
breasts that
stood out...
They showed
buttocks like a
balcony...* If
you took a
vasefull of
water to the
brim and
placed it on

their buttocks,
they would
walk, but not a
drop would be
spilled.
Queens!
All together
they made a
terrific shindig!
Dancing, and
singing,
laughing, and
eating, and
getting drunk
with the beer,
which they
have a terrific
taste for...
Happy natives,
in short.
Except that, at
the end of the
celebration,
without so
much as a byyour-leave,*
they jump on
us fice
Christians, tie
up all five of us
like pigs, and
bang us into
their boats as
slaves!
Our generous
saviours had
sold us, for
heavens sake.
Id been sold
cut-price.

Given away!
They were all
laughing like
crazy.* The
only one who
werent
laughing wer
ethe girls who
had been
embraced with
us in the
hammocks.
They had great
big tears rolling
down their
cheeks... they
cried without
making a
sound.
Our new
owners began
rowing, and
singing and
dancing: they
wre having a
party, these
natives! And
there we were,
tossed into the
bottom of the
boats.
Two days later
we reached
their coast. It
was a wonder...
a coast the
likes of which
youve never
seen! The wate
was clear,
limpid, deep,
you could see
all the fishes as

if they were
swimming in
the air, it was
so clear that
you couldnt
even see the
water, you
couldnt tell
where the sea
ended and the
sky began...
There were
fished with
little wings,
which jumped
out of the sea
and flew in the
air... and in the
sky there were
birds which
dived to the
bottom of the
sea and swam
under water.
Such a
confusion!
And there were
these
wonderful trees
full of
flowers... but
how many
flowers! This
land was full of
flowers... It
was, precisely,
Florida!
It was paradise
for these
natives... But
for us it was
hell. We had to
work from

morning to
night, in the
wate collecting
granzeole,
breaking*
them, grating
manioc,
mangoes,
burning,
cutting... and
by the evening
we were wiped
out, dead from
tiredness, and
we went into
our hammocks:
on our own!
There was
nobody to
embrace us...
not one girl.
My
companions
were overcome
with a
melancholy
that you cant
imagine. And I
told them:
"Dont let
yourselves get
down in the
dumps. Dont
look like
youre
miserable,
because they
wont like that.
These bosses of
ours dont like
their slaves to
be miserable.

Slaves, but
happy! To such
an extent that
when I met
these
employers, I
would play the
buffooon:
"Hey, I like
being a slave!
Lovely life!
God help
anyone who
sets me free...
Ill kill them!"
I would shout.
Then came the
day of the
change of the
moon... when it
becomes full...
because Ive
always paid
attention to the
moon, every
since my witch
taught me. I
look at it, and I
see that it is
round and
completely
clear... Without
a halo! And
suddenly I told
myself "This is
a signal! At this
point my whole
life changes!"
That same
night I was
sprawled in my
hammock, two
girls came,

they took me,

they tok me to
another hut,
with [...] and
skins: fit for a
prince! They
laid me on a
big hammock
decorate with
[...] of cotton,
all clean and
perfumed, and
then both these
girls stretched
out in an
embrace with
me, and they
began kissing*
me, and
caressing me...
things that I
cant begin to
tell you... The
next morning
they put me
under the jet of
water from a
waterfall [...],
they washed
me, they
covered me all
over with
perfumed oil, a
marvellous oil!
I had very long
hair, they
began to plait it
for me, putting
in corals; I also
had a long
beard... they
began plaiting
that for me as
well...! In

addition they
put flowers
round my neck,
and two big
flowers, one
behind each
ear...! [He
pauses] A [...]!
To finish, they
put me up on a
tree stump*...
and all around
they began to
paint me. They
painted
symbols on me
with a
paintbrush, a
circle on my
back, yellow...
then another
woman arrived
and drew a big
line right round
my buttocks,
sort of
greenish... then
another woman
drew an orange
circle on my
belly...
And my willy
blue!
Ha, ha, my
little feathered
friend!
My
companions
looked at me,
amazed and
taken aback:*

"What kind of
game is this?
What are they
doing to you?"
I too was
unable to find a
reason for this
strange* ritual.
I told myself it
must be
because they
liked me.
But hey, all of a
sudden they
started treating
me in a way
that gave me
the shivers:
women,
children, and
the men too,
started pulling
my hair out, all
over me... from
my stomach...
from my legs...
the hairs of my
beard, and my
armpits... and
down below...
below the
navel... which
hurts!
"Stop that, you
wretches! What
do you take me
for, a turkey?"
"Yes!" "You
want to eat
me?" "Yes!"

I fainted.
As soon as I
woke up, I
realised the
meaning of all
that rigmaole
with drawing
cloured circles
on my
buttocks, chest,
legs... They
were ordering
their favourite
cuts of meat!!
I felt my spirits
draining awy,
and I fell to the
ground like a
rag, for the
fright. But they
got frightened
too... they were
terrified that I
was going to
die there.
Because them...
they dont eat
meat that has
died of its own
accord. They
have to kill you
themselves...
Fresh on the
day. If not, it
makes them
vomit!
Filled with
terror, they pIn
a feeble voice I
asked the
Shaman, the
head of the

witch doctors...
a nice chap...
he had big
horns: In a
feeble voice I
asked the
Shaman, the
witch doctor:
"Tell me why,
among all us
Christian
slaves, you
have picked me
as the one to
eat? Youd
have done
better to take
one of my
companions...
theyre a lot
plumper and
fatter than me.
If youd chosen
Thirty-tripes
youd have had
food for a
week!"
"Its because
youre
cheerful. The
meat of
someone who
laughs is good
meat, its easy
to digest, it
gives you good
dreams! But
the meat of
misery-faces
like your
companions
sticks in your
throat, ferments
in your

stomach,
makes your do
tremendous
burps, and in
the end, it
makes your
breath smell!"
Meanwhile the
sun was going
down, and I
relaised that the
next day they
were going to
slit my throat
and hang me
up by my feet
from hooks to
drain my
blood, like with
a pig.
No, Im not
going to stay
here to get
myself
slaughtered!
During the
night, with my
teeth and nails
I managed to
break the rope
and I freed
myself.
I had the
desperate
notion of
escaping
through the
forest, by
climbing over
the stockade. I
knew perfectly

well that this

was an insane
idea, that Id
have no chance
of staying alive
even for two
days in the
forest, with all
those animals
and snakes that
you find.
Above all there
was the jaguar.
The jaguar is
an animal that
is spotty all
over... A lion
without hair! It
leaps onto
you... it has
claws that skin
you alive from
your head to
your feet.
Never mind,
better to end up
eaten by a
jaguar, or a
puma, or a
crocodile,
rather than
ending up
roasted!
There was a
whole fence of
wooden stakes
around the
village, which
protected it. I
crept along at
the base of the
fence. There
was no-one on

guard. I
climbed up on
top of the
poles... Ye
gods! What do
I see but the
shadows of
some armed
people trying to
climb over the
palisade.
These were
enemy savages,
who were
coming
creeping up* to
overcome them
in their sleep!
I dont know
what came
over... All of a
sudden,
instinctively, I
started
shouting:
"Sound the
alarm! Alarm!
Wake up,
people! Your
enemies are
here, theyve
come to kill
you!"
What a moron!
Why should I
have worried
about saving
the skins of
these cannibal
savages, who
apart from
anything else

wanted to eat
me?!
I couldnt stop
myself, though!
"Raise the
alarm! To
arms!"
Whats more, I
grabbed a big
pole and started
bashing the hell
out of* these
savages.
Finally the
sleeping
Indians woke
up.
A tremendous
battle began:
arrows and
spears flyng all
over the place:
the women
were fighting
too, throwing
stones and
lashing out
with sticks.
Of those enemy
savages who
had succeeded
in getting into
the stockade,
only ten
remained alive,
and they took
them prisoner.

Of ours, one
was killed, and
many were
wounded, some
of them really
seriously.
Among these
was the
Shaman witch
doctor: a knife
blow had
ripped open his
belly, and his
guts were
spilling out.
Poor devil, I
feel sorry for
him. .. At least
I want to try to
save his life.
I run to my hut,
I take an iron
blade, a lesina,
and the needle
for sewing up
the sails, which
I had kept
hidden, and I
go over to the
dying Shaman.
I make the iron
blade red-hot,
and I pass it
over the
wound.
"Waaaa!" A
tremendous
yell from the
Shaman. The
natives, armed
with spears,

made as if they
were about to
spear me. The
Shaman just
about managed
to raise his
arm, as if to
say: "Let him
do it."
Me, with my
needle and
thread, keeping
an eye on the
spears of the
nervous
natives, I begin
sewing him up,
as I used to do
with the horses.
A straight
stitch... two
cross stitches...
one diagonal...
Nice bit of
embroidery.
Id hardly
finished the
stitching when
the Shaman
opened his
eyes, and gave
me a feeble
smile... He
took my hand,
and kissed it.
And everyone
all around
kissed my
hands, and
caressed me...*
Then they
lifted me up
bodily, and

took me to
where the other
wounded from
the battle lay.
I found people
carved apart all
over the place!
I had to
cauterise and
sew without
even being able
to catch my
breath, until the
sun set. In the
end, dead tired,
they carried me
off and took me
to my
hammock... I
slept and sewed
and sewed and
slept!
What woke me
up was a soft,
tender warmth
around my
shoulders and
my back. I
opened my
eyes: thanks be
to the Lord...!
It was the two
girls! Hooray!
Obviously, this
was my prize
for having
saved the
village. I let
myself fall into
their arms, and
I slept. A short
while later, I
dont know

how long, I
heard the
cacique
shouting: Hey,
Johan Padan,
youre a
marvel! You
have saved us!
If it hadnt
been for you
giving the
alarm, our
enemies would
have killed us
all...! Well
done...!" And
he kissed me!
"All those
wounded
people that you
sewed up are
aive, theyre
just fine. The
Shaman is even
walking... a bit
wonky, but hes
walking!"
He kissed me
on the mouth,
which I found a
bit disgusting!
"So Im safe?
Youre not
going to eat me
any more?" I
said. "Eat you?
Of course
were not going
to eat you,
because you
raised the
alarm... No,
no... relax, we

wont eat you:

well keep you
as a guard
dog!" "Thanks.
And my
companions?" I
ask, "Have you
decided to free
them too?" No.
Were going to
eat them. They
didnt save us."
And there was
no way of
persuading
himL they were
going to be
eaten, and that
was that!
Sad and
angered, I
walked out of
the village
stockade
towards the
sea. As I
walked I had a
big lump in my
throat. "How
can I save
them?"
I arrive at the
waters edge,
sit on the sand,
and look at the
moon, because
these days I
always keep an
eye on the
moon. The
moon was bi
and clear, with
lots of little

clouds around
it... just like
that time in
Venice when
my witch
girlfriend had
shown be the
same kind of
moon, and
shortly
afterwards
thered been
that terrible
storm.
"Pale witch, I
love you!" The
Cacicco turned
up, and he said:
"What are you
doing, talking
with the
moon?!"
"Yes...!
Perfectly
normal!" "And
does she
answer you?"
"Sure she
does... shes
my mother!"
"Ha, ha, youre
the son of the
moon? And
what is this
mother of
yours telling
you?" Shes
telling me that
shes totally
furious with
you, and that if
you dont
immediately
spare my

comrades from
being eaten,
shes going to
send down a
storm and
lightning to kill
you all!"
"Ha, ha!" the
Cacicco
laughed. "Hey,
what a cunning
devil! Fair
enough, you
showed
yourself as
being good at
sewing up
wounds, and
you saved us
by raising the
alarm, but now
passing
yourself off as
a witch doctor
whos the son
of the moon,
thats a bit
much, Johan!
Hey! We may
be savages, but
were not
stupid, you
know!" "So its
a bit much, is
it? Alright, if I
was in your
shoes, Id give
the order to
haul up all the
boats, to
bundle up
everything that
you can
personally

carry, and Id
hurry off to that
big cave on top
of the hill to
save myself,
because in a
short while the
sea is going to
climb up to the
skies!"
"Ohaaa! Ha,
ha!" the
Cacicco almost
fell about
laughing.
"Dont talk
nonsense! The
sky is so clear
it looks like its
been washed
out,* the sea is
flat, tranquil,
calm as a pool
of piss."
Hed no sooner
said "tranquil,
calm" when...
Whoosh! All of
a sudden a
there was great
flash of
lightning, a
blinding flash,*
and a roar of
thunder like
two hundred
cannons. Then
a terrible
onrush of wind
lashes up a big
cloud of dust...
A terrible black
line appears on

the horizon of
the sea. All the
natives are
seized with
terror and run
to pull up the
boats.
"A hurricane!"
they shout.
"Theres a
hurricane
coming! Get to
safety!"
They rush back
to the village,
load up
everything they
can, haul out
their animals,
and their
prisoners,
including my
companions,
and off they all
go, goats,
children,
turkeys, wild
pigs, all
seeking refuge
in the big cave.
Wed hardly
found shelter
when, outside,
all hell breaks
loose. A raging
wind tears up
trees like they
are straw. The
houses in the
village are
blown away
like dry leaves.

Huge rolling
vomited up
from the sea.
Wham! They
smash
everything...
and even reach
up as far as the
cave!
Hey, we get a
tremendous
stroke of luck:
a clump of
trees has been
torn up, and
comes rolling
down and
blocks* the
entrance to the
cave, and
shields us from
the waves that
are pounding
outside.
But there was
such a shaking
of the earth,
something
coming
undone,* a
crash, a din...
that the women
were crying
and screaming,
and the men
were
swearing...
By all thats
holy! After two
days and three
nights of this
raging

hurricane, just
like happens in
the puppet
theatres, all of
a sudden the
scene changes:
up goes the
backdrop of the
storm, and
down rolls the
backdrop of the
nice weather
and the sun
shining.
It was just the
same... a big
flash, then
suddenly a
silence... and
inside the cave
we saw some
rays of
sunshine. A
silence of the
dead...* There
was not the
sound of a
parrot, nor
even the
screech of a
monkey.
With difficulty
we freed up the
entrance to the
cave. We came
out. Ye gods,
what a disaster!
Outside it
looked as if
two hundred
furious, raging
giants had
ploughed up

the whole coast

and the entire
forest.
The village had
disappeared!
Later we found
out that, out of
all the villages,
of which there
were thousands
all around, we
were the only
ones to have
been saved.
And I, who am
an Antichrist,
saw my hand
come up of its
own accord and
make the sign
of the cross...
I turn round,
and there, with
their faces
down in the
dirt, there were
all these
natives
kneeling at my
feet, like a
flock of
animals: men,
women,
children,
prisoners... I
even had the
impression that
the goats, pigs
and even the
turkeys were
kneeling too.

They wept and

pleaded with
me: "Forgive
us, if we didnt
listen to what
you said... we
promise, we
wont eat you
any more,
nether you nor
your Christian
companions!
We have
understood at
last that you
are not only the
son of the
moon, but also
the son of the
sun that rises,
come
especially from
the other side
of heaven to
save us! We
have already
had a prophecy
that said that
from the other
side of the sea,
one day, a
bearded man
will come, like
yourself, white
of skin, like
yourself, a bit
ugly, like
yourself, who
speaks with the
moon as if it
was his mother.
You are that
man!
Marvellous

holy man, holy

son of the sun,
help us!" And
everyone was
shouting "Holy,
holy..."
I came within
an ace of
adding
"Hallelujuah!
Hallelujah!"
Oh dear Lord!
Me, a
blaspheming
rabble, the son
of a whore,
whod been
saved by
scrabbling in
the shit of cows
and pigs,
escaping from
the fires of the
Inquisition, all
of a sudden
become: a
saint, a witch
doctor, a
doctor, the son
of the mon and
of the rising
sun too!
Isnt life
amazing!
But I tell you, I
never realised
what a hardworking life it
is, to be a
witch-doctor-

cum-saint-cumshaman!
For a start, they
turn up with a
whole load of
baskets full of
stuff to eat: a
hundred-odd
pots, paniers
and baskets,*
full of food,
which they had
saved from the
disaster. They
go down on
their knees, and
they say:
"There, holy
man, its all for
you. Eat" "Hey,
are you mad?
You want to
blow out my
belly!? What
about you?
What are you
going to eat...?"
"Well, if you
want to leave
something for
us too...
thanks... but
first you must
do us the
honour of
blessing it."
"Blessing
what?" "The
food!"
So I was
obliged to
kneel on in
front of this

row of
baskets:* and a
big blowing on
the maize, and
then another on
the manioc
bread, another
blowing on the
fruit, on the
fish, on the
granseole and
the turkeys.
"Whoosh!" I
had to breathe
on their heads
too, to free
them from evil
spirits.
"Puff, puff..."
All that
breathing on
things was
enough to give
you a detached
lung! And I
was obliged to
touch each of
them, one by
one, on the
forehead and
on the mouth.
By the end my
comrades too
were
embracing me,
with tears in
their eyes:
"Thank you for
having saved
us! Saved us
twice: first
from being
eaten, and then
saved from the

hurricane...
Theyre right,
these savages...
you certainly
do have
something of
the sorcerer in
those eyes and
hands of yours!
Touch us too,
please do!"
"Embrace
us..."* "Touch
us.." "Me first,
my turn...!" "I
was first!"
And they all
come crowding
round. And the
savages piled
in too.
"Hey! Slow
down! Hey!
No, thats
enough...!"
I picked up a
big stick and
started started
whirling it
around! "Shift
yourselves!
The first person
who touches
me, Ill break
this stick over
his head!"
Having
resolved that
situation, there
was another
one, a bit more

serious: the
Cacique turned
up once again
on his knees
before me:
"You, who can
talk to your
mother the
moon and your
father the sun...
ask them where
we can go...
you have seen
that all around,
for days and
days of
walking, weve
found not one
single healthy
tree, nor an
animal to eat,
and even the
lizards and
crabs have
disappeared...
We have to
escape from
this place! But
where are we
to go? We must
go to a place
that was not
reached by the
storm. But
where do we
go? To the
north or to the
south? Do we
go to the west?
Do we go to
the East?
Where do we
goooo?" "Hey,
I said, "dont

shout! Were
going to the
West!" "How
come you say
that so clear
and sure?" "Im
a holy man! I
ought to know
a thing or two,
didnt I?"
I knew for a
fact that during
that period a lot
of Spanish
fleets, with
fifteen-totwenty ships
per expedition,
had been going
down that coast
in order to set
up a big
colony. So,
with a few
months of
walking, we
were sure to
come across
these
Christians.. and
, at last, we
would have had
the chance to
return home
safely. Home!
Because to tell
the truth, wed
had a serious
bellyful of
these damned
Indies!
Because, what
with the

journey in the
hold in among
all the shit of
the horses and
cattle... and
then saving
ourselves by
hanging onto
pigs... then
being
enslaved... and
plucked like a
turkey, painted
with circles,
and then being
beaten... wind,
storm, thunderand-lightning*,
and after that:
"Holy man,
holy man...",
and having to
breathe on
them, and put
my hand on
their heads,
their buttocks,
and their
bollocks...
Enough!
Home! I want
to go h-o-o-oo-ome!
____________
____________
____________
_

PART TWO

So, were off,

on our way!
The Cacique
gestures as if to
say "Yes,
certainly, but
just a warning,
in those parts
there is a race
of people
called the
Junicacio, who
arent nice at
all... and others
who are called
Incas, who
dont mess
about either."
"Well, thats
the country that
were going
through. Thats
all there is to
be said!" For
Gods sake,
was I or was I
not the very
holy son of the
Sun and also of
the Moon?!
So, silence in
the ranks!
Forward
march!
And so we
formed up a
caravan, with
me at the head,
with a big leaf
over my head
to protect me

from the sun,

and all the
others behind
me. Including
the prisoners
that had been
captured during
that fighting in
the village: all
roped together
with ropes
around their
necks.
We walked for
days and days,
through
countryside
that the
hurricane had
devastated,
ravaged. We
didnt find so
much as a
leaf,* even a
worm to eat...
Not even sweet
roots.* This
meant that, as
the days went
by, our
supplies* of
maize and of
goats and pigs
began to run
out, until in the
end we no
longer had
anything to eat.
We were dying
of hunger, there
were peple
screaming,
children
passing out,

and at that
point the
Cacique said:
"Thats enough.
This evening
well eat!"
"What will we
eat?" "Well eat
a couple of the
prisoners
weve brought
with us." "Oh
here we go
again, with
your barbarous
habits of
cooking human
flesh!"
"Why?" replies
the Chief. "You
mean you
Christians are
more civilised?
You, who kill
your enemies
in battle, tear
each other
apart, butcher
each other...
and then you
leave all the
hacked-up
bodies to rot on
the battlefield...
Good fresh
meat, freshly
butchered.
Youre wasters!
And you call us
barbaric!"
"Who told you
these things?"
"A Christian
whom we ate

last year."
"Thats enough,
thats an end of
it. From this
moment on, no
more eating
flesh, either
Indian or
Christian!
Otherwise the
moon will get
angry, and
shell send
down another
storm!" "Ye
gods," they
shout, "that
moons nothing
but trouble...!"
Two days later,
when none of
us had eaten so
much as a dry
leaf, and we
were dropping*
as we walked,
as if drunk with
hunger, all of a
sudden,
looking down
from a hill, we
saw a long thin
river... which
was going up
into the sky.
"Weve
arrived,"
shouted the
Cacique, all
excited. "Down
there are the
Conciubas..."
"Who are the
Conciubas?"

"Theyre
natives like
ourselves, of
the same race...
They call them
Conciuba
because
theyve got
shaved heads.
Theyre a
friendly tribe...
And for sure
theyll have
survived,
because the
hurricane
didnt get up
this far."
Straight away
these natives of
ours light a
fire, and then
they throw on
damp grass in
order to create
clouds of
smoke. And
going round
them with
broad leaves
like the one
which I was
using to shelter
me from the
sun, they
waved them
and flapped
them over the
column of
smoke. They
blocked the
smoke, then
took them
away: they sent

clouds of
smoke up, long
ones, short
ones, broad
ones, big*
ones, and long
ones again...
and then, all of
a sudden, a
string of little
clouds in a
bunch.*
Unbelievable!
With this
device of the
smoke, these
cannibals were
talking to the
natives who
were at the
bottom of the
hill! With the
smoke clouds,
they were
making words!
To such an
extent that,
when those
Conciuba
arrived, they
were loaded
with things to
eat! They had
brought so
much stuff...
because our lot
had warned
them, with the
smoke signals:
"Warning... we
havent had
any food for
days and
days... bring us

stuff to eat,
because weve
got a hell of a
hunger!!"
As they got to
within about
ten yards of us,
they all fell on
their knees in
front of me,
gave me all the
stuff to eat, and
said: "Touch
us, breathe on
us too..."
What had
happened?
Incredible! Our
Indians had
used the smoke
to send word
ahead: "Take
note, there is a
holy man with
us who comes
from the sun
that is born,
and is son of
the moon... he
speaks with the
moon... With
the m-o-o-n...!!
Be warned, he
gets as angry as
s snake* if you
dont do what
he says!"
In among these
Indians there
were a dozen
natives who

had big heads

and yellowed
hair gathered in
ringlets,* and
were darkskinned...
almost redskinned, and
they had rings
in their noses...
they even had
[...] with loads
of teeth... faces
like bad
people... Their
chief came
towards me,
looked at my
feet for a
moment, and
then, spiu, spiu,
he spat on my
feet!
"You lousy
savage, whats
got into you?"
"Whats got
into me is that
we have
absolutely no
respect for you,
even if they do
say that youre
a saint. You
look too much
like those
Spanish
Christians
whom we met
at four and a
half months
march from
here. More
than a year ago

now a dozen
big ships came
and
disembarked a
hundred or so
men,
completely
covered in iron,
with helmets,
armour, and
carrying sticks
which spit fire.
And then they
came and
attacked us
with huge
monsters,
which they call
horses: a great
beast, from
whose back
sprouts a man...
alive, all
covered in iron,
part and parcel
of the animal...
and with the
other soldiers,
they
slaughtered
everyone. They
jumped on our
women, they
raped them
there, before
our eyes, and
then they
carried them
off as slaves.
Just as well for
you that youre
surrounded by
all these people
to defend you,

because if we
eve find you on
your own,
well eat you
alive!" And off
they went,
cursing.
Then I
discovered that
they were from
a speicl race
known as the
Incas... which
is the ultimate
derivation of
the
word incazzato.
I was well
familiar with
the programme
of that
particular
show... I
pretended to be
indignant: "Oh
yes? Well, Ill
go there, to that
plain, and Ill
put in an
official
complaint to
the GovernorAdmiral...
because he is a
great man of
honesty and
justice. For
certain, he
knows nothing
of this looting
and killing...
And when he
does find out,

youll see...
hell give a
terrible
punishment to
those
murderous
butchers! So,
tomorrow we
set off again,
and you, all of
you, will
accompany me
over there to
the other valley
on the other
side of the
mountains!"
Absolutely no
chance! The
Conciuba
remained
silent, sitting
there on their
backsides, with
their heads
down between
their knees...
They wouldnt
look me in the
eye. They told
me: "No, no,
no, no, were
not coming!
Those
Spaniards are
too evil. They
kill, they
butcher... Were
not coming!" "I
dont care, you
can stay here if
you like,
anyway Ive
got natives of

my own.
Cannibals, lets
go!"
Nobody
moved.
"Cannibals, are
you coming
with me?"
The cannibals
stayed sitting
there, their
faces full of
fear.
"So not even
you lot are
willing to come
with me? With
everything that
Ive done for
you...?! Ive
breathed on
your food till
my lungs were
bursting, Ive
made you
better by
feeling your
heads and your
buttocks and
your bollocks,
Ive sewn up
your guts when
they were
spilling out...
and now, the
first time I ask
you a favour,
you tell me no,
were not
coming with
you"! Tell me

no? Me, the

holy man?!
Alright, you
know what I
say to you? Go
sell your arses,
you useless
dickhead
savages!"
And no sooner
said than done.
Angry like a
demon, I climb
a big tree,
climb right to
the top, and
there I stretch
out among the
branches that
are intertwined
with foliage,
and I try to
sleep.
I cant sleep.
I take a glance
down... I see
movement.
Men and
women of both
the tribes...
were squatting
there at the
bottom of the
tree. I hear
them howling.
Soneone is
weeping. I
dont care, let
them all die!
"Bunch of
cowards!" I
shouted. "Im

not coming
down, and Im
not touching
you any more,
and Im not
looking at you
any more, and
Im not making
you laugh any
more! Im not
going tobreathe
my breath on
you any more...
Enough, its all
over...
COWARDS!
Cowards?
Thats a bit
quick of me,
calling them
cowards. Id
like to see what
I would have
done if it had
been in
Brescia, or
Bergamo...
where I come
from... and all
of a sudden
barbarian
savages arrived
covered in iron,
on horseback,
and start killing
my children...
and raping my
women and
daughters, my
wife before my
eyes and: "You
shut up...!
Because if you
say a word,

well break
your arse too!"
Id like to see if
I wouldnt shit
myself too...
Id have been
shitting myself
downwards,
upwards, and
sideways!
Alright, agreed,
but what can I
do...? I want to
go back to my
village! I cant
spend the rest
of my life
here... Ive
already been
here for five
years, more
even! I want to
go back to my
valleys... to my
house."
In the morning,
at dawn, I hear
my
companions
calling me,
shouting up at
me: Johan,
come down,
because theres
been a disaster
here. Last
night, because
you wont look
at these
natives, theyve
fallen into a
state of terrible
desperation,
and forty of

them have
become ill with
melancholy,
and eight are
already dead.
Please, come
down, do
something,
because you
have become a
light for them,
their breath for
them... their
life!"
Damn, what
am I now, Jesus
Christ? Put me
under a glass
bell-glass... Ill
come out with
my hands
spread wide to
bless you!
Alright, Im
coming down."
When I reached
the ground, I
find a load of
people lying
around, pale
and trembling,
and one by one
I breathe on
them, I touch
their faces, and
their stomachs,
and their
stomachs, but
above all I
have to show
myself happy,
with big
smiles... give

them pats* of
sympathy... in
short, lead
them to
understand that
Im not angry
any more.
But that isnt
enough. The
ones who are at
deaths door, I
have to let rip
with a kind of
pantomime of
clownlike
happiness... I
start jumping
and dancing,
and I shout:
"Dance, come
on, jump, come
on, lets
go... PAPPARA
PPAPUM...
dance, dance!"
All those halfdead people,
dancing! After
not even half
an hour they
were all
healthy... apart
from eight who
had died...
from dancing!
"Forgive us, we
will all come
with you."
"Allez! Lets
go! On our

way! At last
were leaving!"
We cross
through a forest
for days and
days... looking
up among the
branches
intertwined
with foliage,
we can only
make out a few
fragments of
sky.... we can
only proceed
with great
effort...
branches and
bushes
blocking our
way. All of a
sudden we hear
shouting: "A
monster!"
My
companions
and I armed
ourselves with
long lances and
went to see.
Oh! Sangre de
Dios! It was a
horse! Wild. A
young
stallion... it was
kicking out
with its hooves,
giving big bites
to anyone who
came within
range. We have
to catch it.
"Hey, you

Indians, were
going to catch
this monster!
But where have
you all gone?"
I raise my
head... Theyd
all climbed up
the trees. "Ah,
so youve all
got yourselves
nice seats for
the show, eh?"
So then, with
the aid of my
companions,
we went round
stretching long
ropes, from one
tree trunk to
the another...
round in a
circle, so that
we had this
beast fenced in.
Then we took a
long cane, and
the horse was
in the middle
of a [...], so I
began: "Come
on, well
done..." The
horse reared
up, whinnied,
and gave a
kick... and
started
trembling.
"You see, the
monster is
scared. What is
a horse, when
alls said and

done? Its just a

donkey with
fancy notions."
I climbed up a
tree and sat
across a a
branch... I
waited for the
horse came
within range, I
jumped on its
back, I grabbed
its mane, and it
started
swerving* this
way and that,
pushing...* All
of a sudden it
[...], and I flew
through the air.
AHHH...
PAA...! And
then: smack on
my bum!
And all the
Indians
laughing" "Ha,
ha, the holy
man has [...]!"
Amazing, how
fast you can
lose a
reputation!
Just as well
that Blacky
was there to
save me... he
gave the horse
a slap on the
rump, jumped
on its back, got

it between his
legs, grabbed
its mane with
one hand and
its tail with the
other... and the
horse began to
leap, and rear
up, going
across, rearing,
but he, Blacky,
didnt move...
after half an
hour of this
dance, going
this way and
that way, up
and down, the
horse was out
of breath. AH,
AH... then
Blacky had him
doing what he
wanted, first a
nice gallop...
TRUN, TRUN,
TRUN, TRUN,
and then a trot,
TRUN and
TRUN, and
then the
cross,*,
crossing its
legs, one
straight
forward in
front, then one
in front, and
the other
behind, and it
does a curtsey...
then the [...],
sitting! And
that was that!

One of the
natives called
out: "Oh well
done, Blacky!"
He put his arms
round the
horse, he
wasnt scared
of it any more.
"I want to ride
it," he shouted.
"Me too, me
too!" they all
shouted. The
women too
wanted to ride
this horse... so
then we set up
a riding school
for the whole
tribe!
A few days
after, we heard
an ear-splitting
whinnying,
from another
horse, not so
far off. Ha, ha,
ha... it was a
female horse,
the mother of
our stallion,
which had
escaped from
the Spaniards
and given birth
to him in the
forest. She was
used to the
saddle, and
when we went
to mount her
she didnt even
move; the

trouble was,
shortly after
another horse
arrived, the
father of our
little horse, a
massive male:
it was a bull
with a mane!
He reared up,
he kicked out
with his
hooves, he had
teeth like a
lion, nobody
could touch
him. It was
Blacky who
jumped onto
his back, but
the stallion
bucked up and
tried to smash
him against a
tree... he might
have made
mincemeat of
him!
At that point I
remembered
the way that
the people of
Bergamo tamed
their horses,
which is
amazing. The
first difficult
thing is to get
the harness*
over his head,
because as
soon as you go
near him he
bites you... so

you put the

harness* on the
ground,
supported on
two canes, like
a trap... he
walks about, he
sees the
harness on the
ground, hes
curious as to
what it is, he
lowers his head
to lok... he asks
himself: "What
is this thing?...
and TRAC, the
two people
who are hiding
and holding the
canes suddenly
lift them up,
and the harness
goes over the
stallions nose
as far as his
ears. But at this
point you have
to attach the
ropes to the
harness to
make the the
reins, one on
the left and one
on the right...
you cant go
from the front
because hell
bite, so you
pretend to be
talking to
someone on
your right...
and you tie it

here... because
hes curious,
and comes to
listen, and
then... then you
go to the other
side, but you
talk to someone
else because
otherwise he
gets suspicious
[He mimes the
[...] of the
horse; the reins
tied to the
harness are
extended until
they reach the
stallions
testicles, and
are tied to the
testicles
themselves]
Then the two
ropes are left
floppy... when
you reach the
balls, you make
a loop, you get
the testicle in,
without pulling
tight... then the
other loop, also
loose, on the
second
testicle... then
you wait till he
lowers his
head, you
suddenly jump
onto his back:
[He mimes
jumping onto
the horses

back, and it
reacts by
raising its head
and neck,
thereby
squeezing its
own testicles,
with the
appropriate
desperate
whinnyings]
TAN... and he
instantly TAC!
"OUUUUCH!"
arches his
back:
"OOOOOCH!"
He raises his
neck TAC!
OUUUCH!"...
After the third
rearing-up...
you see this
beast... [He
mimes the walk
of a dressage
horse] Such
elegance!
So we resumed
our journey,
with our
cavalry.
And off we
went, across
rivers, and big
canals,* and
climbing up
mountains.
Every now and
then we would
come across
tribes scattered
through the

peaks* and
valleys.
My reputation
as a saint was
growing.
Everyone
would prostrate
themselves
before me.
There were
people who
brought me
silver and gold,
and I told
them: "Are you
crazy? You
expect me to
go round
loaded with
gold and silver
and all these
precious
stones, like a
porter?! Keep
them
yourselves!"
Then theres
the story of the
two miracles
that I did... [He
addresses the
audience, as if
offended at the
incredulity that
this statement
has aroused] I
DID TWO
MIRACLES!
[Then he tones
it down]
WELL, TWO
STROKES OF

GOOD
LUCK!!*
The first was
when we
arrived at a
plateau at the
top, where
there was a big
lake.
On this lake
there was a
little village,
with houses
raised up on
stilts... with
streets, canals
and bridges... a
miniature
Venice, made
out of wood.
These Venetian
Indians came
out to meet us,
lamenting: "We
would like to
bring you all
the gold in this
world, and also
precious
stones, but we
have nothing!
We have only
the weeping of
our eyes..."
"What has
happened?"
It was two
years since
there had last
been
a risciada.

The risciada is
a phenomenon
which happens
in these parts...
like an
outpouring* of
fish which
come out of the
water. Every
two months,
with the full
moon... the
moon draws,
draws, draws
within the lake,
makes the fish
come out as if
they are
bursting out of
the water and
the fish fly.
They, these
Venetian
Indians, come
out with
paniers and
baskets*, and
catch all these
fish which are
raining from on
high, and store
them away and
smoke them,
salt them, crush
them and eat
fish for a whole
year... which
means that
theyre happy!
But they were
desperate: You,
the son of the
rising Sun and
of the Moon...

speak to your
mother... tell
her not to give
us this
punishment."
For heavens
sake, what was
I supposed to
do? I wait for
the moon to
come out, and I
stick myself
there and start
talking to her:
"Mum! Hey,
Mum, do you
hear me...? Yes,
its me, your
son... And the
son of my
father, the
rising Sun...
listen, mother,
you cant do
something like
this to me! The
fish must jump
out of the
water, like
every year!
What? This
year theyre
resting? Hey,
no, Mum, try to
put your hand
on your heart...
you cant have
these poor
people dying of
hunger, just
because those
lazy creatures
arent willing
to let

themselves be
eaten...
Threaten them
that if they
dont move
themselves,
youre going to
explode the
volcano thats
under the
water!"
Then I turn
round to the
native
Venetians, and
tell them
confidently:
"You should be
alright for
tomorrow
morning. I
think Ive
persuaded my
mother."
And the next
day, bright and
early, all these
fishing Indians
were there
ready: baskets,
nets spread
out... there
were some who
had arranged
three or four
baskets around
their waists...
and they had
placed
themselves in
the water of the
lake,
submerged up

to their waists.
God, I would
look such an
idiot if those
fish didnt
arrive!
And at that
moment, the
great stroke of
luck which I
mentioned!
The sun comes
out... and:
VRAM! All the
waters of
thelake begin
to seethe and
boil. Whole
shoals of
arborelle,
coregoni, piotti
and persici
flying up in the
air! Cavedani
and lavarelli
spraying up out
of the water
and falling into
the baskets,
thousands at a
time... Storioni
falling into the
boats... and if
they happens to
make a mistake
and fall back
into the water:
"Oh, excuse
me," it gives a
flip and jumps
back into the
baskets!

They jump into

your mouth,
and if you
arent careful
theyll jump up
your backside
too.
You cant
imagine how
they feted me
afterwards.
They threw me
up in the air
like a
swordfish,*
almost enough
to break my
back.
The second
piece of
shameless good
fortune came
my way when
we descended
down into the
plain: what a
disaster! It
hadnt rained
so much as a
tear for more
than four
months.
Everything had
entirely dried
up... The carob
was on the
ground, the
maize was on
the ground, the
[...], animals
had died of
thirst, and were
lying there

being eaten by
ants. There
were these poor
natives on their
knees in front
of me, begging
me: "Oh son of
the rising sun
and the moon...
make us a
miracle!" "Hey,
thats enough...
now the sun
and the moon
have nothing to
do with water!"
We know, but
youre a funny,
laughing man,
and you could
save us. If you
are capable of
rasing a laugh
out of the god
of the rain, god
his father will
be moved, with
so many tears
that he will
inundate us..."
"Whoa! Stop...!
I dont
understand a
thing, here!
What is this
story about the
god of the
rain?" The god
of the rain is
the one who
makes it rain.
He has a son
who never ever
laughs... But if

youre able to
get a laugh out
of him, his god
father will see
his son
laughing, and
hell get a lump
in his throat,
and hell be so
hapy that hell
start crying and
crying with joy,
and soaking
everyone!"
"And where is
this son of the
rain to be
found?"
"There!" And
they show me a
big doll, a rag
puppet made of
straw and rags,
all dangly,
sitting on a
chair, with a
flat face: it had
no eyes, it had
no ears.
"How can
someone laugh
when he
doesnt even
have a mouth?"
"Thats exactly
the hard bit...
that like this he
never
succeeds!* But
youre such a
laughing clown
that you can
make him
laugh... Go on,

dance, leap
about..." Oy,
oy, theres no
choice... I have
to dance... I
play the
clown... I dive
into
pirouettes...
funny faces.
All the natives
are clapping
their hands and
banging on
drums...
shouting...
singing... and I
twist myself
around** to
play the clown!
I jump into the
air... I roll
around on the
ground...*
They all burst
out in great
gusts of
laughter. Then,
suddenly, a
woman shouts
out: "Hes
laughing! Hes
laughing too!"
A miracle!
Hardly
believable. On
that blank face
of the puppet, a
slit had opened
across it, like a
mouth,
smiling... And
two holes that

were like
sparkling eyes!
"Hes laughing!
God of the rain,
your son is
laughing...
Show some
emotion! Weep
!"
TON! TON!
"Hes getting
emotional!"
TON! TON!
TON!
"Hes
weeping!"
PTON! PTON!
TON...
TON... PTIN!
[He stops, with
a gesture to
indicate that
the rain drops
are faling more
and more
slowly, until
they stop
entirely. He
turns to the
skies, annoyed]
Is that all? Is
that all the
tears you can
manage?
Youre a bit
mingy!* Rain!
Rain! Weep!"

PTON PTON
PTON
TONTONTON
TO!!!!! The
tremendous
deluge starts to
come down!
By dawn we
were immersed
in water up to
our knees!
There were all
these natives
dancing and
singing [He
mimes a dance
in rhythm with
the rain]
PTENPTERNP
TENPTEN! By
nightfall the
water was
already up to
our waists!
"Alright, God,
thatll do for
now!"
PTENPTENPT
EN!
"Enough!"
PTENPTENPT
EN!
"Enough!! Do
you want to
drown us?!
[Threateningly]
Be careful, or
Ill throttle
your son...!
Enough!!

Watch out, or
Ill come up
and bash you!
Enough!!"
PTON PTON
[The rhythm of
the rain
diminishes, but
then resumes
timidly]
"Enough!!"
PTIN!
"Enough!"
PTIN!
The water had
reached our
throats, and all
the natives
were going
round with just
their heads
sticking out of
the water, and
they swam
towards me and
shouted: "Son
of the rising
sun... stay with
us!" [He mimes
swimming] No,
sorry, its too
damp for
someone of my
disposition, Ill
see you another
time! [still
miming
swimming
energetically,*

he moves
away] I have to
get to
Cacioche!"
We set off
again, and
those natives of
the rain came
with us.
We crossed a
river, another
river...
suddenly we
found
ourselves in the
middle of a
tremendous
storm... there
were horses
everywhere...
in a big river
there were
sixty horses
rolling around
in the storm, I
dont know
where they
came from, but
they were
drowning! We
took all the
ropes that we
had, and we
made a
lassoo. .. We
threw them,
and we caught*
all the horses
and, one by
one, we hauled
them to the
land, and that
way we

managed to
save all sixty of
the horses.
Now we had
sixty-three fine
horses... The
Indians were
riding all day
ong... a
festival!
Only a year
previously they
had not even
known what
horses were,
they thought
they were
monsters, and
now here they
were, as if they
had been born
and raised
together! They
mounted the
horses directly:
"Yeehah!
Bareback:
"Ahaa!" And
then they
turned round
and faced the
other way:
"Eheeplom!" I
saw one Indian
riding like an
acrobat* on the
horses rump.
Then another
horse came
along, with
three Indians
on its back...
standing up...
another horse

came
alongside,
trotting fast,
with three
crazies on its
back, standing,
and shouting:
"Shall we swap
horses?"
Coming this
way, and that
way, and this
way, and that
way! Then I
saw something
never seen in
this world: an
Indian on a
horse, which
came up behind
another horse.
When it
reached the
other horse, he,
the Indian,
came a kick* to
his hose with
his heels, his
horse leapt
onto the back
of the other
horse: a horse
on horseback
on a horse,
with the Indian
on horseback,
on the horse...!
In those days I
was sure that I
was going a bit
out of my
mind... we
were supposed
to be going

East, and I
dont know
how, but we
took the wrong
direction, so
that we found
ourselves
facing the other
sea. We were
looking for the
Atlantic, but
wed got the
Pacfic.
Four months of
walking, for
nothing...! But
there was
nothing that
could be done!
After another
four months we
arrived at a
hill... and on
that marvellous
hill I smelt a
smell that I
knew well:
sulphur! I went
to dig around,
and there was a
big lumo of
lovely sulphur,
long, solid... I
pulled it out,
and I hisd it.
Then I
prepared some
charcoal. Then
I went looking
for magnesium,
and I found
some in a
cave... and

there was some

saltpetre too:
"Im going to
make
fireworks, Im
making
rockets!"
While the
Indians were
sleeping
sweetly, I cut
some canes,
then I made a
hle through
them, I put
inside the black
powder,
saltpetre and
sulphur, then
the magnesium,
than I prepared
the fuses... and
I lit them [He
mimes noisy
explosions]:
PTIN PTAN
PHIIIIIIIII!
PAM! PAM!
PAM! PAM!
PAM! PAM!
"The end of the
world! Its the
end of the
world!" And
they started
running off,
this way and
that!
PIM! PAM!
PAM! PAM!

The stars are

exploding!
PIAM! PIAM!
PIAM!
"Forgive us,
moon!"
They were all
down on their
knees... And I
was laughing,
laughing! They
look at me:
"Hey, Johan
Padan, was it
you made all
that
bombardment?
" "Yes. But I
didnt do it to
frighten you,
but because
now were
going to meet
with the
Spaniards at
Cacioche, and
all in chorus
were going to
have a big
party! They
like fireworks,
and well make
them a present
of explosions*
to make them
drunk*, but
first youre all
going to have
to learn how to
make
fireworks."

And they
learned... They
went a bit far!
They made
fireworks and
let them off
when it wasnt
required. They
were walking
along: PAM! I
was pissing:
PAM! I was
eating: PAM! I
was making
love: PAM!
AM!
"Enouuugh!"
Finally we
reached the top
of a chain of
mountains.
Down below
we could see a
large broad
valley, clear...
and a city: [He
spreads his
arms in a
gesture of
triumph]
Cacioche! It
was Cacioche!
The city of
Cacioche!
There was the
sea! The
Atlantic, with
its port... the
ships...
Cacioche!
[Shouting
almost crazily]
At last,
Cacioche, Ive

found you!
ook, what a
city, what great
walls all made
of wood, and
pallisades, and
look at the
houses, the big
houses... those
big buildings
there are the
storehouses of
the port*, that
other one is the
cathedral, you
see, its got a
bell-tower
made all of
tree-trunks...
That other big
one is the
Governors
palace... and
then other
houses for the
soldiers, the
garrison... and
just outside the
walls, the
cotton
plantations...
and maize...
and corn...
Look how big
it is! Cotton
plantation! And
the mountains
have holes in,
here and
there... the gold
mines... and
there were
slaves too, in
chains...!

Indians,
Indians,
chained up as
slaves...
including those
who were
carrying the
bales of
cotton... All
Indians. And
those who were
loading the
ships... all
Indians! And
there were
eight Indians
hanging from a
gallows...!"
I look round,
out of the
corner of my
eye: around me
all the Indians
were white
with fear,
terror-struck,*
and there were
women who
were tremblng,
and others
fainting...
"Dont get
terrorised,
dont be scared,
becuse Ill
scome into
Cacioche with
you... Dont
make a noise...
Im not taking
you to
theSpaniards!
Lets go back
two days

march, because
I have to speak
with you!"
When we were
a good long
way from
Cacioche, in a
hidden valley,
we relaxed
peacefully, and
I ordered them:
"Men on one
side, women on
the other...!
Count
yourselves!"
"One
thousand... two
thousand...
Eight thousand
males!" "The
women?"
"Almost seven
thousand!"
"And old
people? How
many old
people?" "More
than three
thousand."
"The children?"
"Three
thousand of
them too."
"And the
bigger
children?"
"Four
thousand."
Twenty-five
thousand...

"Too many, too

many! We cant
all go to
Cacioche... itll
bee to
confusing...
were double
the population
of the city,
including the
Indian slaves! I
want to tell you
the truth: if I
take you
straight to the
Spaniards, the
Spaniards will
make you all
slaves, they
will put you in
chains... and
they are right...
without
wishing to
offend you...
but you are not
normal human
beings... for
them you are
on a par with
animals. Lets
talk frankly...
you have no
religion, you
have no
doctrine, you
have no souls
and you dont
even have a
God. In order
to save you
from becoming
slaves, I ought
to turn you into

Christian
brothers... If
you are
Christian
brothers, then
theSpaniards
cant even
touch you... by
law! But here
we need a
priest, a
preacher,* who
can teach you
religious
doctrine! But I
dont even
know the
doctrine...! [A
brief pause.
Then,
determinedly]
Ill teach you
doctrine. But
God help
anyone who
doesnt pay
attention,
because Ill be
testing you
afterwards.
First rule: the
soul is eternal,
the body
perishes... after
you die, it goes
under ground
and the worms
eat it... but the
soul is eternal
and there are
no worms hat
can eat it... it
goes to heaven,
happy in

Paradise... if
the body has
been good on
Earth... but if it
has been cruel,
then the soul
tumbles down
below, ends up
in... it goes to
hell and burns
for all eternity.
Amen! Did you
like that,
Indians...? You
didnt like it?
Alright, lets
continue."
The difficult
thing was
explaining to
the Indians the
business about
original sin,
about Adam
and Eve. I said:
Adam and Eve
were two
Indians, they
were naked
when they were
born, precisely
like you folks...
the breasts, the
backsides, the
fannies, the
willies, the
willies with
[...]... and they
loved each
other, and they
embraced, and
they made
love, and they
werent

worried about
shame, and
they werent
shy with each
other... When
the big bad
snake arrived,
the snake,
which was the
devil, with an
apple in its
mouth, said:
"Adam, eat the
apple! Sweet,
good, red
apples! Adam,
eat this apple!"
"No, I dont
like apples, tell
Eve." "Eve,
will you eat
this apple?"
"Lets split it in
two, half for
me and half for
Adam..." You
eat and I eat...
Then ut pops
the archangel
Gabriel... or
was it
Michael... or
was it Raphael,
I dont
remember... He
jumps out with
his sword in his
hand. "Get out,
you wretches!
You have eaten
Gods
forbidden
apple! Get out
of Paradise!"

And all the

Indians shouted
out: "That one,
for sure hes a
Spaniard!"
But it wasnt
easy to get this
into the
natives heads,
this business
about the
punishment
because of the
forbidden fruit.
They dont
have apples...
they have no
apple trees, or
pear trees
either... So I
had to put a
mango in the
serpents
mouth... a great
ong thing like
this, with this
poor wretch of
a snake with
his mouth all
awry, saying:
[He speaks
with difficulty,
almost
lisping*]
"Adam, eat the
mangoangoang
o!" It was also
difficult to
explain the
business about
shame... the
fact that before
they had lived
happily with

their willy and

their fanny, and
went around
with their
buttocks, their
bellies to the
wind, and that
they didnt care
a bit... all of a
sudden they
become
ashamed...
When? When
the Archangel
Gabriel leaps
out with his
sword in his
hand and says:
"You have
eaten the
forbidden
fruit... Out of
Paradise!" "Oh,
the shame of
it!" [He moves
his hand
rapidly to
cover his
genitals] As I
said: "Get out
of Paradise!"
"Oh, the shame
of it! Oh what
embarrassment
! Oh, my
fanny... please
give me a fig
leaf... to cover
myself!" The
Indians didnt
understand this
business about
a fig leaf to
cover

themselves...
also because
they only have
what are called
"Indian figs"
in other words,
cactuses!
Imagine one
of those leaves,
with all its
spikes... you
put it between
your legs and
"OUUUUUCH
!"
But when I told
them about
Jesus, the sone
of God, who
was sweet and
gentle, with his
long hair... they
all liked him...
"What a nice
man, this
Jesus! So
loving, and
empassioned,
that he took
children in his
arms, and then
forgave them
all: "You have
a tremendous
sin? Hey, what
sin... I forgive
you it! You,
how many sins
have you
committed"
Three sins, four
sins? Five sins?
All pardoned!"
And when he

met someone
who was
walking all
wonky, "Hey,
walk straight!"
"Thanks,
miracle Jesus!"
The Indians
liked the Jesus
who brought
the dead back
to life... who
had parties...
But who they
did not like at
all was the
Apostles... The
Indians didnt
like the
Apostles at all!
All serious,
with their
hands together
in prayer,
walking one
behind the
other, with
their golden
haloes on their
heads... all
males, always
males, only
males... The
Indians were
beginning to
have their
suspicions! So
much so, that I
had to
introduce a
female among
the Apostles:
Mary
Magdelene.

They really
liked Mary
Madelene!
With her round,
pointy breasts,
her buttocks,
all naked,
covered only
by a great
cascade of hair
that went
"Ihiaaaa!" [He
shakes his
head and
mimes the
wavy
movement of
Mary
Magdelenes
hair, leaving
her naked]
It was terrible
when I got to
the bit about
Jesus, the Son
of God, being
nailed to the
cross, with all
the blood
runing down,
and he was
dying, dying, in
his death
throes... And
the Madonna
down below,
weeping...
Mary
Magdelene
tearing her
hair... As they
listened to this
story, all the
Indians were

weeping in
despseration:
"Hes dying!
Hes dying!
The son of
God, the son of
heaven is
dying!" And
they too tore
their hair, as if
one of their
own sons was
dying, and they
scratched
themselves,
and they beat
themselves
about the face,
and wept, and
threw
themselves on
the ground...
One day, one
night, two
days, three
days, three
nights...
"Enough!!
What is this
desperate
womanly
weeping?!
Leave it out!
Youre going
too far! Its an
old story, very
old, forget it.!
And dont
worry, because
three days after
he died, Jesus
comes back to
life, he revives!
[In a tearful,

wretched voice]
"Its not true,
youre telling a
fib just so as to
cheer us up, but
we know that
the son of God
is dead, hes
dead!" "I do
not tell lies... I
am a saint! But
watch out,
because there is
another saint,
Thomas, who
didnt at all
believe in the
resurrection of
Jesus and who
went in person
to check where
the tomb was
that Jesus had
just come out
of : alive, he
was! With all
the wounds still
in his side...
And he, this
unbelieving
Thomas, had
the nerve* to
stick his fingers
in the bleeding
holes... and
there was a
flash of
lightning and...
NYAAAAH!
[He puts both
hands under
his armpits, as
if hes lost his
hands] Golden

halo, but no
hands! Watch
out!"
And all the
Indians started
singing: Hes
alive! The son
of Heaven is
alive!" And
they embraced
each other and
threw
themselves on
the ground, and
made love, and
drank... There
were some who
had brought a
white powder,
called
"boracero"
["makes you
drunk"]... bora
cemeans
drunk... this
white powder
which they put
up each others
noses... and
instead of
sniffing up like
this [He
indicates the
gesture] they
put little tubes
up each others
noses and [He
mimes blowing
down a tube]
PIUM! PIUM!
""You too! Me
too!" PIUM!
PIUM...! I can
see God...!"

"You wretches!
You get
drugged, you
drink, you
dance about, in
front of the
Lord!" "Arent
we supposed
to?" "N.
youre notsupp
osed to!"
"Cant we
dance before
God?" "NO!"
"Cant we
make love
before God?"
"NO!" "Cant
we drink?"
"Only the priest
drinks...
everyone else
stands and
watches!" "And
cant we blow
down our
tubes?" "NO!!"
"Not even one
little line?"
"NOOOO!!!"
"Hey, what
kind of dead
religion is
this?" Its not a
dead religion,
its a religion
of life, of life!
Because in my
village, in my
valleys, when
Jesus rises
again, and its
Easter, the holy
day of

resurrection,
everyone sings
and dances and
they are happy
with a great
contentment...
and they song
sweet songs
that even
listening to
them makes
you shiver with
pleasure... Now
Ill sing you
one, of great
tenderness...
Oh what joy...
Oh what
happiness!
The son is still
alive in
heaven!
The son of
Mary is still
alive.
The virgin
Mary is greatly
happy
And none of us
need any more
fear
Either the
Turks or the
great wind
Neither the
great wind nor
the Christians

Neither the
Turks nor the
Christians!
"Lovely!
Lovely!" All
the Indians
were dancing.
"Encore!
Encore!"
I sang it for
them again
another time,
and they
learned it
exactly right...
they sang it... a
bit too lively
[He does the
same song, in a
rhythm
somewhere
between a
samba and a
saltarello]:
Oh what joy...
Oh what
happiness!
The son is still
alive in
heaven!
At this point I
said: "Now
were all going
to Cacioche...!
Get the crosses
ready... No, not
everyone...
only a
thousand. The
first time well

go just in a
thousand: eight
hundred men,
two hundred
women. You
other twentythree thousand,
you all stay
hidden... If I
need you all,
Ill send a
signal, nd you
come in...
come in with
the horses!"
More than a
hundred
horses... they
all knew how
to ride horses...
"Lets get
moving! Hold
your crosses
high...! Please,
dont go
exploding the
corsses!" They
had this
mania... you
couldnt put a
cross in their
hands without
they
immediately
painted it in all
different
colours, put
coloured
feathers on it,
added tubes
with saltpetre
and sulphur
and
manganese,

and then lit

them: PAM!
IHAAAAAAII
I! PAM!
"Youre not
supposed to
explode
crosses!"
We arrived at
Cacioche.
When we
arrived before
the big walls of
Cacioche, the
Spaniards
peered over the
walls: "Hey,
look! Amazing!
There are some
Indians,
Indians with
crosses!
Singing
hymns!
Christian
Indians!"
From within
the bastions the
Governor
immediately
came out, and
he shouted at
them: "Who
was it? Who
gave
permission for
these Indians to
be taught
Christianity?"
I stepped
forward, and I

said: "It was

me. Senor
governor, my
name is Johan
Padan, and
they call me
the son of the
rising sun and
of the moon... I
do not know
whether I did
good or bad in
teaching them
Christianity..."
He, the
Governor,
looks and sees
all these
Christian
Indians on their
knees before
the bastions,
and they had
big basins,* big
baskets* full of
pieces of gold
and silver and
loads of
necklaces. He
is curious, and
he asks: "But
who is all this
silver for?"
"For you. It is a
present which
the Indians are
giving you,
senor
Governor."
"For me? You
have done well
to teach them
Christianity."
Then he turns o

his soldiers and

says: "I am
speaking to the
Spaniards:
from this
moment on,
God help
anyone who
dares to make a
slave of one of
these Indians,
who are our
brothers in
Christ, are our
subjects, of the
King and
Queen of
Spain! They
will come to
work of their
own free will.
They are free
men! They will
come to work
every morning
in the
plantations....
freely... and
they will come
to the mines
too... free, but
under
obligation!"
And all the
Indians didnt
quite
understand the
connection
between
freedom and
obligation, but
they were
happy
nevertheless...

They began
drinking, and
singing, and
dancing... Then
at nightfall they
all slept on the
ground, and oin
the morning,
when the bell*
rang to call
them all into
work, to o to
the mines, into
the
plantations...
the ndians had
disapeared,
there was not
so much as the
shadow of an
Indian! And
they came and
summoned me.
I w5s still
asleep, they
grabbed me byt
the throat and
dragged me
before the
Governor. "On
your knees,"
they old me.
And the
Governor said:
"Hey, Johan
Padan, youre a
cunning one,
eh...? You teach
a bit of religion
to these
Indians, you
prepare them...
you come here
to test the

wates. But as
soon as they
heard "Trabajo,
work, mines..."
off they all
went, ran off.
Now, if these
Indians dont
come down
herre at once,
on their knees
in front of me,
before the sun
sets, Ill hang
you from the
highest
flagpole!* As
the sun goes
down, youll
go up to the
moon!"
Before the sun
went down,
Blacky, Red
and Thirtytripes ran off to
summon all the
Indians, who
came down
quickly. In a
trice thay all
arrived there,
on their knees
in front of the
Governor,
asking pardon
and saying:
"Senor
Governor, we
are prepared to
become slaves,
but you must
set free Johan
Padan, the son

of the rising
sun and the
moon, our
dearest
Shaman!"
The Governor
said: "Look at
the dedication
of these
wretches... Fair
enough! You
are free,
because I have
only one
word... but him
I will hang,
because he has
set up a
religion which
is all songs and
dancing... a
mockery...*
Blasphemer...
Hang him!"
They put the
noose round
my neck, and
two hangmen
began to pull. I
felt myself
being pulled
up, pulled up,
up into the sky,
my throat was
being
throttles... I
saw all red...
the sky was
burning me:
"Am I in
Hell?!" No!
No! The sky
really was

burning! All
the Indians, the
twenty-five
htousand
Indians who
had come down
with flaming
torches in their
hands... they
had climbed up
everywhere, on
the roofs, on
the bastions,
even on the
churches, and
up the belltowers, in the
plantations and
even on the
ships!
Twenty
thousand
Indians!
Forty thousand
flaming
torches!
The sky was
burning! And
there was Red,
and he told the
Governor:
Watch out,
Senor
Governor... If
you do not set
Johan Padan
free at once,
these people
are ready to
burn
everything you
have! Theyll

burn your
plantations,
their burn your
buildings with
all the harvest
in, theyll also
burn your
churches, your
cathedrals,
theyll make a
bonfire of your
whole palace,
and your ships
too...! And Id
be interested to
know how
youll get back
home with your
ships all
charcoal!"
The captain
was furious. He
ordered: "Shoot
them with the
cannons!" "No,
wait! And you
natives too,
with your
flaming
torches, stop
and think: you
can set fire to
the whole city,
Cacioche...
fourteen years
of work, theres
a million
maravedi in all
this...
everything can
burn... but at
the end, how
many of you
will be saved

from death?
How many of
you will die
when we open
fire on you? A
thousand? Two
thousand...?
Are you really
prepared to die
in such great
numbers to
save this big
thief? Johan
Padan, who
passes himself
offas the son of
the rising sun
and the moon,
in order to
come and steal
all your gold
and silver?"
Then the
Cacique stood
up: "Stop.
Senor
Governor, for
how long have
you known
Johan Padan...?
Only just now!
I know him for
five years, six
years, and he
has never
stolen from us
even a dry leaf.
We have made
him presents of
baskes and
baskets o gold
and silver... he
didnt even
touch them,

and he said: I
dont want to
be a porter!
You, senor
Governor, who
arrived when
nobody invited
you, you are
the big thief!
You arrived
with all those
people armed
and covered in
iron and you
stole our
harvest, our
lands, the
labour of our
arms, you have
stolen our men,
women, gold...!
And you have
also stolen our
language, you
arrived all
pompous* with
feathers on
your head... He
arrived naked
like the rest of
us. You arrived
triumphant,
riding a
stallion... he
arrived riding
too... but riding
a pig. He
arrived here
and brought
back to life
people who
were at deaths
door... but you
put to death

people who are

very much
alive! He gave
us a religion
made of songs,
of joyousness,
of dancing,
smiles, and
happiness...
You bring us a
religion which
5s sad,
melancholic, of
death. All the
time:
Remember
that you are
going to die!
You are alive,
but remember
that you will
perish! And
we touch our
bollocks.*" "
"Enough back
chat!" shouts
the captain.
"Open fire with
the cannons!"
The artificers
run to light the
fuses, but the
fuses are damp,
and the powder
in the cannons
is damp too...
The captain
shouts: "But
who has pissed
in the cannon
mouths this
night?! Get our
the horses!
Mount the

horss!
Cavalrymen,
stand by your
horses! Ready
to charge the
Indians!
But even pulled
by ropes, the
horses didnt
want to come
out. They
reared up,
kicked out,
rolled on the
ground, and
also farted...
from their
nostrils!
"When have
they done to
those horses?"
screamed the
Governor.
"Senor
Governor, last
night I saw
some Indians
filling long
tubes with
white powder...
then they put
the tubes in the
horses noses
and blew down
them: PIUM!
They ere
drugging
them...* and
the horses like
it!" a soldier
replied.

All of a
sudden: PA!
PA! A!
Fireworks
arrive among
the legs of the
Spaniards, who
began jumping
here and there
and running
around...
"Soldiers. stop,
stop...! Look,
the cavalry is
coming to help
us! What
cavalry is
that...? A
hundred
horses...
INDIANS!
INDIANS ON
HORSES
LIKE
CHRISTIANS.
..?! God,
theyre
charging like
devilpossessed.! Is
nothing
sacred?!"
Allthe soldiers
were down on
their knees,
shouting:
"Dont kill us!
Spare our lives!
Dont kill us
Forgive us!"
"Come on, you
soldiers, a bit
of dignity,

please, before
these Indian
foreigners! [To
the Indians] Go
on, tie them all
up, tie all the
Spaniards to
each other and
take them to
the ships.
Unload all the
cannons off the
ships! [To the
Spaniards] You
Spaniards, we
will spare your
lives, all of
you... in fact
we ill return
you to your
houses... Well
wait for three
days and three
nights, to see
how the
weather goes.
If the weather
is good, well
send you back
to your islands?
Happy? Right,
now, all go
aboard your
ships.
The first day,
the moon came
out... normal.
The second,
normal again.
On the third
night, the moon
was big and
clear in the
sky... with all

little clouds
around it.
"Hey,
Spaniards, you
can leave
now! Bon
Voyage! Up
with the sails!
Let go the
ropes.* Hoist
the mainsail!"
And there was
the Governor.
He put his head
out of the poop
deck* and
shouted: "Hey,
Johan Padan,
imbecile!
Youve made a
serious mistake
leaving us
alive! You
should have
killed us all,
because now
were going
back to the big
island of Santo
Domingo, and
when we get
there, we shall
load other
cannons, and
we shall come
back to this
coast again,
and we shall
fire cannonades
at you for
weeks on end,
and we shall
kill you all:

men, women,
children, old
people, and
even the fleas
on your dogs!"
"Senor
Governor," I
say. "Theres
an old proverb
in the valleys
where I come
from, which
says: "In order
to come back
to a place
where you
thought you
could reach
after having
been in a scond
place in order
to prepare
oneself to
arrive at the
first place...
where one
anted to
arrive... you
have to arrive
at the second
place where
one thought of
arriving in
order to
prepare oneself
in order to be
able to return
to the first
place!"
The ships ere
moving away,
moving away,
into the

distance, were
about to
disapepar over
the horizon,
and I said tp
the moon:
"Mother, give
them a nice
little wallop!"
PUAM! A huge
flash of
lightening, a
great arc, for a
moment you
could see
clearly, and
then the sea
turned black...
another flash of
lightning...
away in the
distance you
could see little,
little ships, and
around those
little ships
some seaspouts. Again,
great searing
flashes of
lightning! Then
rolls of thunder
that sounded
like cannons,
then waves,
waves getting
bigger and
bigger, until
when they
reached the
shore they were
like mountains!
And within
these great

waves there
were bits of
ship, and in
among them
drowned
sailors, and
drowned
soldiers, and
drowned
captains, and
there was also
the Governor,
and the Deputy
Governor...
there was the
chaplain too...
All of them...
they had all
come back!
And they
floated there
like deflated
[...]
We waited for
days and days
to see if we
could spy any
ship returning,
but since none
of them had
reached Santo
Domingo, none
of them could
come back.
We razed the
city to the
ground, the city
of Cacioche we
razed flat, and
we planted
trees, which
after five

years... became
a forest.
We waited for
twelve years,
but there was
no sign of the
Spaniards!
One morning
we saw the
whole sea full
of sails... the
flags were
those of
Castille and
Leon. They
were
Spaniards.
There was the
flag of Panfilo
Navael, a great
commander, a
famous,
glorious
captain. When
he landed on
the beach, we
Indians
disappeared.
They
disemabrked
from their big
boats, and they
also brought
horse, and
looking at the
maps that they
were holding
they said:
"There must be
a mistake here.
This ought to
be Cacioche
here, but

theres not so
much as a stake
of this city, in
this place...!
Lets go and
look for
Cacioche
elsewhere!"
And we, from
our hidng
places, saw this
great
expedition
enter into the
forest. And
when they were
halfway...
When people
say: "If a
disaster is ging
to hapen, let it
happen..."
What happens?
This whole
army gets
halfway into
the forest, and
a fire breaks
out there [He
ponts to the left
Then another
little fire there.
(He points
elsewhere]
Then a big
blaze, two
fires, three
fires, five
fires... They
run hither and
thither trying to
escape... "Hey,
quick, get out

of the forest!
Its all on fire!
Out, get out!
AAAAAARG
H!"
All burned. An
entirearmy
burnt to cinders
in the forest...
What bad
luck...!
Then, two
years later, the
son of Panfilo
Navares,
Michel Vaschez
Navares, came
down. He was
more cunning,
more
intelligent than
his father. He
looked around
and hesaid: "I
dont like this!
There are no
Indians coming
out to meet us
like they
usually do...
Cacioche has
disappeared...
Look... in the
forest there are
burned bones...
Im not so
stupid as to go
through that
forest, because
its a trap... Ill
go through the
valley!"

The entire
army heads for
the mountain,
which has a
large slit,
which is the
big valley. As
you enter it, the
valley becomes
narrower and
narrower, and
becomes really
deep, and with
steep sides... a
throat* which
is narrow and
deep, and then
they all had to
walk sideways
like this... [He
mimes the
walk] which is
difficult for
horses, to walk
like this! All of
a sudden they
hear water
coming down...
A tremendous
river... a river
that is boiling:
[He mimes the
water
speaking]
"Beware the
flood... be
careful, its
coming... stand
to one side...
excuse me...!"
They were all
drowned... in
profile!"

Father and son,

what an
unlucky
family!
Ernando se
Soto*
disembarked
too, Spains
greatest
conquistador. E
rnando de Soto
arrived with
nine hundred
men and two
hundred
horses... he was
more important
than Cortez,
with nine
hundred men
he arrived, and
endless
amounts of
cannons... and
he met the
Indians.
One of the
chroniclers of
the time says:
"These Indians
arrive, they are
demons! There
are a thousand
of them, they
shoot
fireworks...
they suddenly
apear... another
two hundred
arrive... they
disappear...
then a hundred
arrive... they

pop up out of
the earth like
poisonous
snakes... the
meadows burn,
a river appears
all of a
sudden... a new
trap every
day!"
After four
months, they
all returned to
the shore...
Heavens, what
a disaster! Out
of nine hundred
men and two
hundred horses
there were only
thirty and
twenty-eight of
those were
horses!
Then came
Pedro
Menderes de
Vies, a captain,
who turne dup
with an army,
went down ino
the plain... and
disappeared!
Then another
arrived,
Enrighe
Marcos el
Cronigador: he
came in with
an army.
Disappeared!

Then another
arrived: Luis
Cansel
Bavaraos:
came in.
Disappeared!
In the end there
arrived an
endless army
commanded by
one who was
called Tristan
de Luna... A
man whos
called Tristan,
what would
you expect to
happen to
him...? He
disappeared!
At this point,
King Carlos V
proclaimed:
"Thats
enough! Sta
Florida me ha
enfrapado los
cojones! I
declare this
Florida a nonapproachable
place.* In other
words, if a
Spanish
Christian sets
foot there
without my
orders... even if
he comes back
alive,
afterwards Ill
hang him, with

my own
hands!"
From that day
on, no more
Spaniards!
A couple of
Frenchmen did
have a try... a
bit suspicious...
they found
burned bones...
"Pardon!"
They made
their excuses
and left.
From that day
when I first
arrived hanging
onto my pig in
the storm, forty
years had
passed, forty
years...... I have
become old,
white-haired,
white-skinned,
but I am happy,
I am contented,
I am healthy... I
am in love, I
have wives,
and children
who me love
me... I have so
many sons and
daughters and
grandchildren
that Ive even
lost count.
There are
children all
over the

place... I meet
one that I dont
even recognise:
"Who are you?
My son? Oh,
well! A
pleasure! Give
me a little
kiss!"
I dont even
know my
grandchildren,
who call me
"Father!
Father...!"
Everyone calls
me "Father!".
Or rather,
"Holy Father!"
They love me, I
am a king, I am
hapy. And they
have respect,
love and
consideration...
Around us
there is never
any terror,
never any
fear... If there is
a problem, they
always come to
me, a dispute,
an argument,
advice... I
always deal
with things...
Respected,
loved, I am a
king!

The only thing

that fills me
with nostalgia
is the fresh
smell of the
wind in my
valleys, I dont
know where it
comes from,
but I can smell
it... it arrives in
my ears, it
gives me the
shivers, it
breathes like a
breath, I smell
the scent of
when theyre
cooking the
goat... I hear
the bubbling of
the must* in
the hostelries, I
hear the
bubbling of the
wine in the
barrels... the
singing of the
women, the
laughter... oh,
the songs of
love... even the
hymns in
church fill me
with
nostalgia...
There are those
moments when
I get a big lump
in my throat
which throttles
my heart, my
gorge rises, my
heart beats... I

go running
desperately to
my hammock...
Sprawled out in
my hammock I
clutch onto the
net... two girls
come over to
me... they
swing me...*
they sing a
lullaby to my
hammock...*
they swing me
gently, gently...
I close my
eyes, and they
sing me the
song of my
village, which I
taught them...
precisely with
the same words
and the same
idiom of my
dialect...
Oh how fine,
oh what
happiness,
The Son of
Heaven is alive
again
The Son of
Mary is alive
again.
The Virgin
Mary is hugely
happy

None of us
need any more
fear
Neither the
Turks, nor the
storms,
Neither the
storms, nor the
Christians
Neither the
Turks, neither
the Christians."

[Ends]