that the man had not been us yet, apart the ambiguous presence of the old one from the hair and from the grey beard that spoke for mottos and witticisms. It was really departing from the way to speak of the wise man, however, that Saint was focusing an inclusive historical period between 1400 and the 1600. The language that used the elderly hermit was a rather ancient vulgar Italian, with some inflexions latineggianti that underlined the fact that the person in matter was a scholar. The meeting with the new character in the plot of the paradoxical screen-play that Saint and Dafne were suffering was insane rather, but, unlike this ch'era happened in precedence, this time they had the possibility to civilly compare him with that situation; through his oratorical ability and the keenness of her sharp words you/they would have been able to unmask that nice actor disguised by hermit and to flake the sick sketch that concealed him behind that grotesque performance. Saint systematized the primitive chair on which you/he/she had sat, drawn carving a big piece of trunk, really in front of the hoary old man, so that to have well in sight all of its expressions. Then, with to falsely do low, it began his/her harangue.
"Have the aesthetics of an edotto teacher of philosophy of other times! How do you call you and, above all, that do us on this island, only?"
"No young, I run away that study of which the resultante operates blackberries together coll'operante of it. Wisdom is only daughter de the sperienza; and, as for the name, it makes sol divisions delli dwarves in categories, in classes, as they were of other mundi. Eccì that the needy one is already soiato from the diruto name famigliare, while that apodittico of a noble, been born under to the eloquence of a favorable torch, under to the aegis of the divizies, it will be always cause of haughtiness and ambagi, even if I him portator of such name arà the cerebro of a merendon. If the aldaci anari your smelled hans a papery scent provenir from the modest cilice ch'adorna the unadorned one I mantle that it conceals my Spirit, then it is what correct that is given me the appellative of teacher, if nothing else for the greatest due sperienza to my etade."
Saint had intensely fixed for the whole time the inscrutable face of the mysterious character. It warned an I don't know that of sacred around his/her aura and this it upset him/it extremely. It feared to definitely have lost the lucidity and not to succeed in separating the logic reality from the artfulness of a genial simulation anymore. Dafne intervened in the dialogue turning to he who it intended to make himself/herself/themselves call teacher:
"You speak for enigmas and abstruse mottos, seem has him/it on purpose to conceal the true meaning of your words."
The wise crinito illuminated him in face paternally smiling.
"My dear lady, to amend the neglected axioms delli dwarves without coercion some, but with endless dilectione, is mine last end, so that the balatro of the baccata difalta is filled with contenenza and dilectione. That I/you/he/she am sunny and I arouse your aldito, in such pleasant way of cilestre boce as the nichis of molluscs, will be, and not of mellifluous inanity."
Saint and Dafne literally astonished ogniqualvolta the wise man it pronounced a motto of his. Every single word that composed his to say already expressed an atavistic concept by itself on which to reason. If it mostly strove then him observing the whole one his/her enunciated, proposed by the thin lips of that absorbed face of hermit, he was catapulted in a vortex of existential so highest intuitions, to represent the anthropological foundations of the self. It seemed it didn't participate in the conversation undertaken by the two guests, its answers appeared, always of first I lead off, out place and excessively abstruse but, in truth they were propositions that transcended the approximation of other people's questions, to directly hover to the deep vertexes of the psyche of its interlocutors, toward this ch'essis really lived in their intimate and not turning to what their sibylline words they declared. Also during the silences the arcane one to be, with embarrassing evidence, he/she read the motions of their souls and, with eloquent expressions of the face, he/she answered and theirs spiritual addressed to err. The night and the two lovers it finally came, to the shelter of a curtain, on an impromptu straw pallet, you/they could enjoy the intimate rest to which you/they craved for a long time. Saint was extended supine, with an arm fondly Dafne encircled and with the other hand it was held pressed the incandescent temples for the huge effort that completed his/her head in to reconstruct with rational truthfulness the last accadimentis. It didn't dare to ask further explanations and explanations to his/her beautiful dame, you/he/she would have been only a way to create suspicions in his/her mind that, at that time, certain you/they would not have benefitted him. And then, for how much the organizer of that epocale could initially have been it recites, you/he/she had surely lost by now the reins of it. By now it was nanny of the events, perhaps also worse of himself. You/he/she had been enough for him to read on her face the torment for the last stories lived for starting keeping silent every resentment in his/her comparisons. Poor countess, certain to his/her way, but surely it loved him/it to the point to also sacrifice in toto to be nearby him. Dafne caressed him a cheek and, looking at him/it in the eyes, it said:
"How much macchinoso is yours to think. I warn the fire blaze from your meninges. Do you know what I think of this whole history? What we should escape from everybody, also from this peaceful and old bonario to look for only an angle of world our. This way we would really succeed in taking conscience of us avoiding to lose the sense pursuing all these insane hallucinations."
Saint looked at her/it in the eyes slightly tilting the head, as to mime a question mark.
"Because you want to escape from the first sensible person that we meet and that you/he/she could help us understand something of what it is happening around to us?"
The look of Dafne was confused.
"Creeds really that someone inside this chaos can do everything possible in our favor for it stuffed to find the correct key of reading to this uproar?"
"I believe that the only way because I can understand something of all this, both to talk to someone that gives me the possibility to compare me with some reasonings and not through the only blind trust."
Dafne boxed the frecciata of Saint and didn't dare to reply. After all the facts spoke clear. In the history she represented the only true scapegoats to his eyes and who knows if a tomorrow its love would have included the ambiguous one its to act. Meanwhile Saint had been mute after its last exclamation but, in remuneration, you/he/she had tightened more next to its breast the beautiful companion of adventures, as to make the roughness to be forgiven with which you/he/she had treated her a little before, even if to the light of any judicious rigor of logic had all the reasons of it. The atra night of that island, uncontaminated from the artificial presence of the human lights, he/she thought about metter peace to the dense buzz of those confused minds darkening her with the accomplice sleep. To the first rays of sun Saint raised him from its pallet and was started toward the waterline. There it found you the teacher of the island that scrutinized impassive the horizon.
"Good morning!chetamente Saint " exclaimed.
The hoary man issued a sigh before starting to speak.
"Cerulo the lucore that him vengia of the dark of the night dethroning her/it from his/her altar. The ashy lunar disk, iscorno and sbeffato for the insufficiency of its light, finally laugh now giving rest to its limbs. His/her effort to hold alive the memory of the sun has not been vain, and it now enjoys the ransom for its works. What an eternal war every night, all for us, that exclaim the morning after the unconquered hymn "Good morning.""
Saint had already gotten used to the strange way to report him of that elderly wise man. You/he/she had understood ch'egli he/she didn't mind the formalities. Its acumen was everything face toward the reached illumination thanks to cogitate and of this treasure it was not quite jealous, rather, its most impelling hurry was to do yes that around people drew you sprout of it of reflection and therefore of personal improvement. He didn't persuade, however, of the why the teacher had decided to spend
the existence on that desert island, and only with the arrival of Dafne and Saint, on purpose for them, you/he/she had offered his/her mottos to handfuls. As soon as, in the head of Saint, an eccentric thought was delineated that did him/it smile: a personal teacher that helped them to cross their trip dantesco in the meander of that ambiguous existential experience.
Already from the first disappointments lived by little boy, as then during every critic moment of its mature existence, had desired after all to its soul to have a spiritual father that could recommend him the correct road and that you/he/she could find the correct words to console him/it in front of the horrors of the life. The to paw some thoughts of Saint was interrupted by the tonal voice of the other.
"My dear spiritual vagabond, you belong alli honest dwarves. Naturally them dwarves boni disiderano to know. I know that many will say this to be useless work; and these hay those de'qualis Deometro said it didn't make account more than the wind which in the lor mouth caused the words, that of the wind ch'usciva from the part of under, men, which only have desire of corporal wealth and dear, and entirely private of that of the wisdom,
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