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All the way from the Piazza Tritone to the Borghese Gardens, even to the Villa Malta where Prince von Buelow lived, the crowd packed, in the hope of hearing some words from the poet. The words of Mameli's "L'Inno" rose in the twilight air. At last the little gray figure appeared on the balcony above the throng.... It is impossible to give an adequate idea of the effect of what D'Annunzio said.
It was as if one of the conscript fathers had returned to his city to pronounce a benediction upon the act of his descendants. The people repeated the cry again and again, then broke into the beautiful words of Mameli's "L'Inno," "Fratelli d' Italia." Then the gathering turned to cross the city to the Quirinal, where the King had promised to meet them.
And I followed with the "piazza" in its instinctive rush to the hotel on the Pincian Hill to hear the voice of its spokesman. Again I was in the Corso when the plumed cavalry cleared the surging mass from the Piazza Venezia to the Piazza Colonna. I heard the people yell, "Death to the traitor Giolitti!" and "Fuori i barbari!" and sing Mameli's "L'Inno."
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