But
there would come a new spirit out of it.
Even Alfredo was submitted to the new process; though he belonged
entirely by nature to the sort of Il Duro, he was purely sensuous and
mindless. But under the influence of Giuseppino he was thrown down, as
fallow to the new spirit that would come.
And then, when the others were all partially tipsy, the Giuseppino began
to talk to me. In him was a steady flame burning, burning, burning, a
flame of the mind, of the spirit, something new and clear, something
that held even the soft, sensuous Alfredo in submission, besides all the
others, who had some little development of mind.
'_Sa signore_,' said the Giuseppino to me, quiet, almost invisible or
inaudible, as it seemed, like a spirit addressing me, '_l'uomo non ha
patria_--a man has no country. What has the Italian Government to do
with us. What does a Government mean? It makes us work, it takes part of
our wages away from us, it makes us soldiers--and what for? What is
government for?'
'Have you been a soldier?' I interrupted him.
He had not, none of them had: that was why they could not really go back
to Italy.
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