With a sweeping bow, he turned his back to the audience. The lights darkened as the lanterns were shuttered by the stagehands and the curtains rustled as a careless performer made some extravagant movement backstage. When the audience’s chatter subsided to a fragile silence, Marco left the stage and select lights were turned toward the center of the stage.

     To the soft strains of a chorus, the first dancers stepped out with toes pointed and arms outstretched. A resounding voice from offstage spoke the opening lines as the chorus continued their quiet singing and the dancers began a slow, carefully measured dance. The clatter of metal on metal and rushed steps announced the coming of two swordsmen, entering behind the dancers and waving swords at one another as they advanced downstage toward the audience.

     Backstage, he crossed his arms. “What are they doing?” he whispered angrily, to no one in particular. The actor due to go on at the next recitation of the script shrugged. The two heard shouts coming from the stage and the audience applauded. The chorus ceased their song and bewildered-looking dancers hurried backstage.

     The audience roared and he looked quickly around the curtains. Dario had the other at swordpoint; as if he saw that he had another crowd to please, he flashed a smile into the wings.

     Marco mouthed something indecipherable and went to wait in the dressing rooms.