Weird Tales. Vol. I (of 2), Page 6

  V.

  _Of the new mishap which befalls Signor Pasquale Capussi. AntonioScacciati successfully carries out his plan in Nicolo Musso's theatre,and flees to Florence._

  Signor Pasquale was only too well aware who had been at the bottom ofthe mischief that had happened to him and the poor Pyramid Doctor nearthe Porta del Popolo, and so it may be imagined how enraged he wasagainst Antonio, and against Salvator Rosa, whom he rightly judged tobe the ringleader in it all. He was untiring in his efforts to comfortpoor Marianna, who was quite ill from fear,--so she said; but inreality she was mortified that the scoundrel Michele with his gendarmeshad come up, and torn her from her Antonio's arms. Meanwhile Margaretwas very active in bringing her tidings of her lover; and she based allher hopes upon the enterprising mind of Salvator. With impatience shewaited from day to day for something fresh to happen, and by a thousandpetty tormenting ways let the old gentleman feel the effects of thisimpatience; but though she thus tamed his amorous folly and made himhumble enough, she failed to reach the evil spirit of love that hauntedhis heart. After she had made him experience to the full all thetricksy humours of the most wayward girl, and then suffered him justonce to press his withered lips upon her tiny hand, he would swear inhis excessive delight that he would never cease fervently kissing thePope's toe until he had obtained dispensation to wed his niece, theparagon of beauty and amiability. Marianna was particularly careful notto interrupt him in these outbreaks of passion, for by encouragingthese gleams of hope in the old man's breast she fanned the flame ofhope in her own, for the more he could be lulled into the belief thathe held her fast in the indissoluble chains of love, the more easy itwould be for her to escape him.

  Some time passed, when one day at noon Michele came stamping upstairs,and, after he had had to knock a good many times to induce SignorPasquale to open the door, announced with considerable prolixity thatthere was a gentleman below who urgently requested to see SignorPasquale Capuzzi, who he knew lived there.

  "By all the blessed saints of Heaven!" cried the old gentleman,exasperated; "doesn't the knave know that on no account do I receivestrangers in my own house?"

  But the gentleman was of very respectable appearance, reported Michele,rather oldish, talked well, and called himself Nicolo Musso.

  "Nicolo Musso," murmured Capuzzi reflectively; "Nicolo Musso, who ownsthe theatre beyond the Porta del Popolo; what can he want with me?"Whereupon, carefully locking and bolting the door, he went downstairswith Michele, in order to converse with Nicolo in the street before thehouse.

  "My dear Signor Pasquale," began Nicolo, approaching to meet him, andbowing with polished ease, "that you deign to honour me with youracquaintance affords me great pleasure. You lay me under a very greatobligation. Since the Romans saw you in my theatre--you, a man of themost approved taste, of the soundest knowledge, and a master in art,not only has my fame increased, but my receipts have doubled. I amtherefore all the more deeply pained to learn that certain wickedwanton boys made a murderous attack upon you and your friends as youwere returning from my theatre at night. But I pray you, SignorPasquale, by all the saints, don't cherish any grudge against me or mytheatre on account of this outrage, which shall be severely punished.Don't deprive me of the honour of your company at my performances!"

  "My dear Signor Nicolo," replied the old man, simpering, "be assuredthat I never enjoyed myself more than I did when I visited yourtheatre. Your Formica and your Agli--why, they are actors who cannot bematched anywhere. But the fright almost killed my friend SignorSplendiano Accoramboni, nay, it almost proved the death of me--no, itwas too great; and though it has not made me averse from your theatre,it certainly has from the road there. If you will put up your theatrein the Piazza del Popolo, or in the Via Babuina, or in the Via Ripetta,I certainly will not fail to visit you a single evening; but there'sno power on earth shall ever get me outside the Porta del Popolo atnight-time again."

  Nicolo sighed deeply, as if greatly troubled. "That is very hard uponme," said he then, "harder perhaps than you will believe, SignorPasquale. For unfortunately--I had based all my hopes upon you. I cameto solicit your assistance."

  "My assistance?" asked the old gentleman in astonishment "Myassistance, Signor Nicolo? In what way could it profit you?"

  "My dear Signor Pasquale," replied Nicolo, drawing his handkerchiefacross his eyes, as if brushing away the trickling tears, "my mostexcellent Signor Pasquale, you will remember that my actors are in thehabit of interspersing songs through their performances. This practiceI was thinking of extending imperceptibly more and more, then to gettogether an orchestra, and, in a word, at last, eluding allprohibitions to the contrary, to establish an opera-house. You, SignorCapuzzi, are the first composer in all Italy; and we can attribute itto nothing but the inconceivable frivolity of the Romans and themalicious envy of your rivals that we hear anything else but yourpieces exclusively at all the theatres. Signor Pasquale, I came torequest you on my bended knees to allow me to put your immortal works,as far as circumstances will admit, on my humble stage."

  "My dear Signor Nicolo," said the old gentleman, his face all sunshine,"what are we about to be talking here in the public street? Pray deignto have the goodness to climb up one or two rather steep flights ofstairs. Come along with me up to my poor dwelling."

  Almost before Nicolo got into the room, the old gentleman broughtforward a great pile of dusty music manuscript, opened it, and, takinghis guitar in his hands, began to deliver himself of a series offrightful high-pitched screams which he denominated singing.

  Nicolo behaved like one in raptures. He sighed; he uttered extravagantexpressions of approval; he exclaimed at intervals, "_Bravo!Bravissimo! Benedettissimo Capuzzi!_" until at last he threw himself atthe old man's feet as if utterly beside himself with ecstatic delight,and grasped his knees. But he nipped them so hard that the oldgentleman jumped off his seat, calling out with pain, and saying toNicolo, "By the saints! Let me go, Signor Nicolo; you'll kill me."

  "Nay," replied Nicolo, "nay, Signor Pasquale, I will not rise untilyou have promised that Formica may sing in my theatre the day afterto-morrow the divine arias which you have just executed."

  "You are a man of taste," groaned Pasquale,--"a man of deep insight. Towhom could I better intrust my compositions than to you? You shall takeall my arias with you. Only let me go. But, good God! I shall not hearthem--my divine masterpieces! Oh! let me go, Signor Nicolo."

  "No," cried Nicolo, still on his knees, and tightly pressing the oldgentleman's thin spindle-shanks together, "no, Signor Pasquale, I willnot let you go until you give me your word that you will be present inmy theatre the night after to-morrow. You need not fear any new attack!Why, don't you think that the Romans, once they have heard your work,will bring you home in triumph by the light of hundreds of torches? Butin case that does not happen, I myself and my faithful comrades willtake our arms and accompany you home ourselves."

  "You yourself will accompany me home, with your comrades?" askedPasquale; "and how many may that be?"

  "Eight or ten persons will be at your command, Signor Pasquale. Doyield to my intercession and resolve to come."

  "Formica has a fine voice," lisped Pasquale. "How finely he willexecute my arias."

  "Do come, oh! do come!" exhorted Nicolo again, giving the oldgentleman's knees an extra grip.

  "You will pledge yourself that I shall reach my own house without beingmolested?" asked the old gentleman.

  "I pledge my honour and my life," was Nicolo's reply, as he gave theknees a still sharper grip.

  "Agreed!" cried the old gentleman; "I will be in your theatre the dayafter to-morrow."

  Then Nicolo leapt to his feet and pressed Pasquale in so close anembrace that he gasped and panted quite out of breath.

  At this moment Marianna entered the room. Signor Pasquale tried tofrighten her away again by the look of resentment which he hurled ather; she, however, took not the slightest notice of it, but goingstraight up to M
usso, addressed him as if in anger,--"It is in vain foryou, Signor Nicolo, to attempt to entice my dear uncle to go to yourtheatre. You are forgetting that the infamous trick lately played bysome reprobate seducers, who were lying in wait for me, almost cost thelife of my dearly beloved uncle, and of his worthy friend Splendiano;nay, that it almost cost my life too. Never will I give my consent tomy uncle's again exposing himself to such danger. Desist from yourentreaties, Nicolo. And you, my dearest uncle, you will stay quietly athome, will you not, and not venture out beyond the Porta del Popoloagain at night-time, which is a friend to nobody?"

  Signor Pasquale was thunderstruck. He opened his eyes wide and staredat his niece. Then he rewarded her with the sweetest endearments, andset forth at considerable length how that Signor Nicolo had pledgedhimself so to arrange matters as to avoid every danger on the returnhome.

  "None the less," said Marianna, "I stick to my word, and beg you mostearnestly, my dearest uncle, not to go to the theatre outside the Portadel Popolo. I ask your pardon, Signor Nicolo, for speaking out franklyin your presence the dark suspicion that lurks in my mind. You are, Iknow, acquainted with Salvator Rosa and also with Antonio Scacciati.What if you are acting in concert with our enemies? What if you areonly trying with evil intent to entice my dear uncle into your theatrein order that they may the more safely carry out some fresh villainousscheme, for I know that my uncle will not go without me?"

  "What a suspicion!" cried Nicolo, quite alarmed. "What a terriblesuspicion, Signora! Have you such a bad opinion of me? Have I such anill reputation that you conceive I could be guilty of this the basesttreachery? But if you think so unfavourably of me, if you mistrust theassistance I have promised you, why then let Michele, who I knowrescued you out of the hands of the robbers--let Michele accompany you,and let him take a large body of gendarmes with him, who can wait foryou outside the theatre, for you cannot of course expect me to fill myauditorium with police."

  Marianna fixed her eyes steadily upon Nicolo's, and then said,earnestly and gravely, "What do you say? That Michele and gendarmesshall accompany us? Now I see plainly, Signor Nicolo, that you meanhonestly by us, and that my nasty suspicion is unfounded. Pray forgiveme my thoughtless words. And yet I cannot banish my nervousness andanxiety about my dear uncle; I must still beg him not to take thisdangerous step."

  Signor Pasquale had listened to all this conversation with such curiouslooks as plainly served to indicate the nature of the struggle that wasgoing on within him. But now he could no longer contain himself; hethrew himself on his knees before his beautiful niece, seized herhands, kissed them, bathed them with the tears which ran down hischeeks, exclaiming as if beside himself, "My adored, my angelicMarianna! Fierce and devouring are the flames of the passion whichburns at my heart Oh! this nervousness, this anxiety--it is indeed thesweetest confession that you love me." And then he besought her not togive way to fear, but to go and listen in the theatre to the finestarias which the most divine of composers had ever written.

  Nicolo too abated not in his entreaties, plainly showing hisdisappointment, until Marianna permitted her scruples to be overcome;and she promised to lay all fear aside and accompany the best anddearest of uncles to the theatre outside the Porta del Popolo. SignorPasquale was in ectasies, was in the seventh heaven of delight. He wasconvinced that Marianna loved him; and he now might hope to hear hismusic on the stage, and win the laurel wreath which had so long beenthe vain object of his desires; he was on the point of seeing hisdearest dreams fulfilled. Now he would let his light shine in perfectglory before his true and faithful friends, for he never thought for amoment but that Signor Splendiano and little Pitichinaccio would gowith him as on the first occasion.

  The night that Signor Splendiano had slept in his wig near the Pyramidof Cestius he had had, besides the spectres who ran away with him, allsorts of sinister apparitions to visit him. The whole cemetery wasalive, and hundreds of corpses had stretched out their skeleton armstowards him, moaning and wailing that even in their graves they couldnot get over the torture caused by his essences and electuaries.Accordingly the Pyramid Doctor, although he could not contradict SignorPasquale that it was only a wild freakish trick played upon him by aparcel of godless boys, grew melancholy; and, albeit not ordinarilysuperstitiously inclined, he yet now saw spectres everywhere, and wastormented by forebodings and bad dreams.

  As for Pitichinaccio, he could not be convinced that they were not realdevils come straight from the flames of hell who had fallen upon SignorPasquale and upon himself, and the bare mention of that dreadful nightwas enough to make him scream. All the asseverations of Signor Pasqualethat there had been nobody behind the masks but Antonio Scacciati andSalvator Rosa were of none effect, for Pitichinaccio wept and sworethat in spite of his terror and apprehension he had clearly recognisedboth the voice and the behaviour of the devil Fanfarelli in the one whohad pinched his belly black and blue.

  It may therefore be imagined what an almost endless amount of troubleit cost Signor Pasquale to persuade the two to go with him once more toNicolo Musso's theatre. Splendiano was the first to make the resolve togo,--after he had procured from a monk of St. Bernard's order a smallconsecrated bag of musk, the perfume of which neither dead man nordevil could endure; with this he intended to arm himself against allassaults. Pitichinaccio could not resist the temptation of a promisedbox of candied grapes, but Signor Pasquale had besides expressly togive his consent that he might wear his new abbot's coat, instead ofhis petticoats, which he affirmed had proved an immediate source ofattraction to the devil.

  What Salvator feared seemed therefore as if it would really take place;and yet his plan depended entirely, he continued to repeat, upon SignorPasquale's being in Nicolo's theatre alone with Marianna, without hisfaithful satellites. Both Antonio and Salvator greatly racked theirbrains how they should prevent Splendiano and Pitichinaccio from goingalong with Signor Pasquale. Every scheme that occurred to them for theaccomplishment of this desideratum had to be given up owing to want oftime, for the principal plan in Nicolo's theatre had to be carried outon the evening of the following day.

  But Providence, which often employs the most unlikely instruments forthe chastisement of fools, interposed on behalf of the distressedlovers, and put it into Michele's head to practise some of hisblundering, thus accomplishing what Salvator and Antonio's craft wasunable to accomplish.

  That same night there was heard in the Via Ripetta before SignorPasquale's house such a chorus of fearful screams and of cursing andraving and abuse that all the neighbours were startled up out of theirsleep, and a body of gendarmes, who had been pursuing a murderer as faras the Spanish Square, hastened up with torches, supposing that somefresh deed of violence was being committed. But when they, and a crowdof other people whom the noise had attracted, came upon the anticipatedscene of murder, they found poor little Pitichinaccio lying as if deadon the ground, whilst Michele was thrashing the Pyramid Doctor with aformidable bludgeon. And they saw the Doctor reel to the floor just atthe moment when Signor Pasquale painfully scrambled to his feet, drewhis rapier, and furiously attacked Michele. Round about were lyingpieces of broken guitars. Had not several people grasped the old man'sarm he would assuredly have run Michele right through the heart. Theex-bravo, on now becoming aware by the light of the torches whom he hadbeen molesting, stood as if petrified, his eyes almost starting out ofhis heady "a painted desperado, on the balance between will and power,"as it is said somewhere. Then, uttering a fearful scream, he tore hishair and begged for pardon and mercy. Neither the Pyramid Doctor norPitichinaccio was seriously injured, but they had been so soundlycudgelled that they could neither move nor stir, and had to be carriedhome.

  Signor Pasquale had himself brought this mishap upon his own shoulders.

  We know that Salvator and Antonio complimented Marianna with the finestserenade that could be heard; but I have forgotten to say that to theold gentleman's very exceeding indignation they repeated it duringseveral successive nights. At length Signor Pas
quale whose rage waskept in check by his neighbours, was foolish enough to have recourse tothe authorities of the city, urging them to forbid the two painters tosing in the Via Ripetta. The authorities, however, replied that itwould be a thing unheard of in Rome to prevent anybody from singing andplaying the guitar where he pleased, and it was irrational to ask sucha thing. So Signor Pasquale determined to put an end to the nuisancehimself, and promised Michele a large reward if he seized the firstopportunity to fall upon the singers and give them a good sounddrubbing. Michele at once procured a stout bludgeon, and lay in waitevery night behind the door. But it happened that Salvator and Antoniojudged it prudent to omit their serenading in the Via Ripetta for somenights preceding the carrying into execution of their plan, so as notto remind the old gentleman of his adversaries. Marianna remarked quiteinnocently that though she hated Antonio and Salvator, yet she likedtheir singing, for nothing was so nice as to hear music floatingupwards in the night air.

  This Signor Pasquale made a mental note of, and as the essence ofgallantry purposed to surprise his love with a serenade on his part,which he had himself composed and carefully practised up with hisfaithful friends. On the very night preceding that in which he washoping to celebrate his greatest triumph in Nicolo Musso's theatre, hestealthily slipped out of the house and went and fetched hisassociates, with whom he had previously arranged matters. But no soonerhad they sounded the first few notes on their guitars than Michele,whom Signor Pasquale had thoughtlessly forgotten to apprise of hisdesign, burst forth from behind the door, highly delighted at findingthat the opportunity which was to bring him in the promised reward hadat last come, and began to cudgel the musicians most unmercifully, withthe results of which we are already acquainted. Of course there was nofurther mention made of either Splendiano or Pitichinaccio'saccompanying Signor Pasquale to Nicolo's theatre, for they were bothconfined to their bed beplastered all over. Signor Pasquale, however,was unable to stay away, although his back and shoulders were smartingnot a little from the drubbing he had himself received; every note inhis arias was a cord which drew him thither with irresistible power.

  "Well now," said Salvator to Antonio, "since the obstacle which we tookto be insurmountable has been removed out of our way of itself, it alldepends now entirely upon your address not to let the favourable momentslip for carrying off your Marianna from Nicolo's theatre. But Ineedn't talk, you'll not fail; I will greet you now as the betrothed ofCapuzzi's lovely niece, who in a few days will be your wife. I wish youhappiness, Antonio, and yet I feel a shiver run through me when I thinkupon your marriage."

  "What do you mean, Salvator?" asked Antonio, utterly astounded.

  "Call it a crotchet, call it a foolish fancy, or what you will,Antonio," rejoined Salvator,--"at any rate I love the fair sex; butthere is not one, not even she on whom I foolishly dote, for whom Iwould gladly die, but what excites in my heart, so soon as I think of aunion with her such as marriage is, a suspicion that makes me tremblewith a most unpleasant feeling of awe. That which is inscrutable in thenature of woman mocks all the weapons of man. She whom we believe tohave surrendered herself to us entirely, heart and soul, whom webelieve to have unfolded all her character to us, is the first todeceive us, and along with the sweetest of her kisses we imbibe themost pernicious of poisons."

  "And my Marianna?" asked Antonio, amazed.

  "Pardon me, Antonio," continued Salvator, "even your Marianna, who isloveliness and grace personified, has given me a fresh proof of howdangerous the mysterious nature of woman is to us. Just call to mindwhat was the behavior of that innocent, inexperienced child when wecarried her uncle home, how at a single glance from me she divinedeverything--everything, I tell you, and, as you yourself admitted,proceeded to play her part with the utmost sagacity. But that is not tobe at all compared with what took place on the occasion of Musso'svisit to the old gentleman. The most practised address, the mostimpenetrable cunning,--in short, all the inventive arts of the mostexperienced woman of the world could not have done more than littleMarianna did, in order to deceive the old gentleman with perfectsuccess. She could not have acted in any better way to prepare theroad for us for any kind of enterprise. Our feud with the cranky oldfool--any sort of cunning scheme seems justified, but--come, my dearAntonio, never mind my fanciful crotchets, but be happy with yourMarianna; as happy as you can."

  If a monk had taken his place beside Signor Pasquale when he set outalong with his niece to go to Nicolo Musso's theatre, everybody wouldhave thought that the strange pair were being led to execution. Firstwent valiant Michele, repulsive in appearance, and armed to the teeth;then came Signor Pasquale and Marianna, followed by fully twentygendarmes.

  Nicolo received the old gentleman and his lady with every mark ofrespect at the entrance to the theatre, and conducted them to the seatswhich had been reserved for them, immediately in front of the stage.Signor Pasquale felt highly flattered by this mark of honour, and gazedabout him with proud and sparkling eyes, whilst his pleasure, hisjoy, was greatly enhanced to find that all the seats near and behindMarianna were occupied by women alone. A couple of violins and abass-fiddle were being tuned behind the curtains of the stage; the oldgentleman's heart beat with expectation; and when all at once theorchestra struck up the _ritornello_ of his work, he felt an electricthrill tingling in every nerve.

  Formica came forward in the character of Pasquarello, and sang--sang inCapuzzi's own voice, and with all his characteristic gestures, the mosthopeless aria that ever was heard. The theatre shook with the loud andboisterous laughter of the audience. They shouted; they screamedwildly, "O Pasquale Capuzzi! Our most illustrious composer and artist!Bravo! Bravissimo!" The old gentleman, not perceiving the ridicule andirony of the laughter, was in raptures of delight. The aria came to anend, and the people cried "Sh! sh!" for Doctor Gratiano, played on thisoccasion by Nicolo Musso himself, appeared on the stage, holding hishands over his ears and shouting to Pasquarello for goodness' sake tostop his ridiculous screeching.

  Then the Doctor asked Pasquarello how long he had taken to theconfounded habit of singing, and where he had got that execrable piecefrom.

  Whereupon Pasquarello replied, that he didn't know what the Doctorwould have; he was like the Romans, and had no taste for real music,since he failed to recognise the most talented of musicians. The ariahad been written by the greatest of living composers, in whose servicehe had the good fortune to be, receiving instruction in both music andsinging from the master himself.

  Gratiano then began guessing, and mentioned the names of a great numberof well-known composers and musicians, but at every distinguished namePasquarello only shook his head contemptuously.

  At length Pasquarello said that the Doctor was only exposing grossignorance, since he did not know the name of the greatest composer ofthe time. It was no other than Signor Pasquale Capuzzi, who had donehim the honour of taking him into his service. Could he not see that hewas the friend and servant of Signor Pasquale?

  Then the Doctor broke out into a loud long roar of laughter, and cried.What! Had he (Pasquarello) after running away from him (the Doctor),with whom, besides getting his wages and food, he had had his palmtickled with many a copper, had he gone and taken service with thebiggest and most inveterate old coxcomb who ever stuffed himself withmacaroni, to the patched Carnival fool who strutted about like asatisfied old hen after a shower of rain, to the snarling skinflint,the love-sick old poltroon, who infected the air of the Via Ripettawith the disgusting bleating which he called singing? &c., &c.

  To which Pasquarello, quite incensed, made reply that it was nothingbut envy which spoke in the Doctor's words; he (Pasquarello) was ofcourse speaking with his heart in his mouth (_parla col cuore inmano_); the Doctor was not at all the man to pass an opinion uponSignor Pasquale Capuzzi di Senigaglia; he was speaking with his heartin his mouth. The Doctor himself had a strong tang of all that heblamed in the excellent Signor Pasquale; but he was speaking with hisheart in his mouth; he (Pasquarello) had himself often heard ful
ly sixhundred people at once laugh most heartily at Doctor Gratiano, and soforth. Then Pasquarello spoke a long panegyric upon his new master,Signor Pasquale, attributing to him all the virtues under the sun; andhe concluded with a description of his character, which he portrayed asbeing the very essence of amiability and grace.

  "Heaven bless you, Formica!" lisped Signor Capuzzi to himself; "Heavenbless you, Formica! I perceive you have designed to make my triumphperfect, since you are upbraiding the Romans for all their envious andungrateful persecution of me, and are letting them know _who_ I reallyam."

  "Ha! here comes my master himself," cried Pasquarello at this moment,and there entered on the stage--Signor Pasquale Capuzzi himself, justas he breathed and walked, his very clothes, face, gestures, gait,postures, in fact so perfectly like Signor Capuzzi in the auditorium,that the latter, quite aghast, let go Marianna's hand, which hithertohe had held fast in his own, and tapped himself, his nose, his wig, inorder to discover whether he was not dreaming, or seeing double,whether he was really sitting in Nicolo Musso's theatre and dare creditthe miracle.

  Capuzzi on the stage embraced Doctor Gratiano with great kindness, andasked how he was. The Doctor replied that he had a good appetite,and slept soundly, at his service (_per servirlo_); and as for hispurse--well, it was suffering from a galloping consumption. Onlyyesterday he had spent his last ducat for a pair of rosemary-colouredstockings for his sweetheart, and was just going to walk round to oneor two bankers to see if he could borrow thirty ducats"----

  "But how can you pass over your best friends?" said Capuzzi. "Here, mydear sir, here are fifty ducats, come take them."

  "Pasquale, what are you about?" said the real Capuzzi in an undertone.

  Dr. Gratiano began to talk about a bond and about interest; but SignorCapuzzi declared that he could not think of asking for either from sucha friend as the Doctor was.

  "Pasquale, have you gone out of your senses?" exclaimed the realCapuzzi a little louder.

  After many grateful embraces Doctor Gratiano took his leave. NowPasquarello drew near with a good many bows, and extolled SignorCapuzzi to the skies, adding, however, that his purse was sufferingfrom the same complaint as Gratiano's, and he begged for some of thesame excellent medicine that had cured his. Capuzzi on the stagelaughed, and said he was pleased to find that Pasquarello knew how toturn his good humour to advantage, and threw him several glitteringducats.

  "Pasquale, you must be mad, possessed of the devil," cried the realCapuzzi aloud. He was bidden be still.

  Pasquarello went still further in his eulogy of Capuzzi, and came atlast to speak, of the aria which he (Capuzzi) had composed, and withwhich he (Pasquarello) hoped to enchant everybody. The fictitiousCapuzzi clapped Pasquarello heartily on the back, and went on to saythat he might venture to tell him (Pasquarello), his faithful servant,in confidence, that in reality he knew nothing whatever of the scienceof music, and in respect to the aria of which he had just spoken, aswell as all pieces that he had ever composed, why, he had stolen themout of Frescobaldi's canzonas and Carissimi's motets.

  "I tell you you're lying in your throat, you knave," shouted theCapuzzi off the stage, rising from his seat. Again he was bidden keepstill, and the woman who sat next him drew him down on the bench.

  "It's now time to think about other and more important matters,"continued Capuzzi on the stage. He was going to give a grand banquetthe next day, and Pasquarello must look alive and have everything thatwas necessary prepared. Then he produced and read over a list of allthe rarest and most expensive dishes, making Pasquarello tell him howmuch each would cost, and at the same time giving him the money forthem.

  "Pasquale! You're insane! You've gone mad! You good-for-nothing scamp!You spendthrift!" shouted the real Capuzzi at intervals, growing moreand more enraged the higher the cost of this the most nonsensical ofdinners rose.

  At length, when the list was finished, Pasquarello asked what hadinduced him to give such a splendid banquet.

  "To-morrow will be the happiest and most joyous day of my life,"replied the fictitious Capuzzi. "For know, my good Pasquarello, that Iam going to celebrate to-morrow the auspicious marriage of my dearniece Marianna. I am going to give her hand to that brave young fellow,the best of all artists, Scacciati."

  Hardly had the words fallen from his lips when the real Capuzzi leaptto his feet, utterly beside himself, quite out of his mind, his faceall aflame with the most fiendish rage, and doubling his fists andshaking them at his counterpart on the stage, he yelled at the top ofhis voice, "No, you won't, no, you won't, you rascal! you scoundrel,you,--Pasquale! Do you mean to cheat yourself out of your Marianna, youhound? Are you going to throw her in the arms of that scoundrel,--sweetMarianna, thy life, thy hope, thy all? Ah! look to it! Look to it! youinfatuated fool. Just remember what sort of a reception you will meetwith from yourself. You shall beat yourself black and blue with yourown hands, so that you will have no relish to think about banquets andweddings!"

  But the Capuzzi on the stage doubled his fists like the Capuzzibelow, and shouted in exactly the same furious way, and in the samehigh-pitched voice, "May all the spirits of hell sit at your heart, youabominable nonsensical Pasquale, you atrocious skinflint--you love-sickold fool--you gaudy tricked-out ass with the cap and bells danglingabout your ears. Take care lest I snuff out the candle of your life,and so at length put an end to the infamous tricks which you try tofoist upon the good, honest, modest Pasquale Capuzzi."

  Amidst the most fearful cursing and swearing of the real Capuzzi, theone on the stage dished up one fine anecdote after the other about him.

  "You'd better attempt," shouted at last the fictitious Capuzzi, "youonly dare, Pasquale, you amorous old ape, to interfere with thehappiness of these two young people, whom Heaven has destined for eachother."

  At this moment there appeared at the back of the stage AntonioScacciati and Marianna locked in each other's arms. Albeit the oldgentleman was at other times somewhat feeble on his legs, yet now furygave him strength and agility. With a single bound he was on the stage,had drawn his sword, and was charging upon the pretended Antonio. Hefound, however, that he was held fast behind. An officer of the Papalguard had stopped him, and said in a serious voice, "Recollect whereyou are, Signor Pasquale; you are in Nicolo Musso's theatre. Withoutintending it, you have today played a most ridiculous _role_. You willnot find either Antonio or Marianna here." The two persons whom Capuzzihad taken for his niece and her lover now drew near, along with therest of the actors. The faces were all completely strange to him. Hisrapier escaped from his trembling hand; he took a deep breath as ifawakening out of a bad dream; he grasped his brow with both hands; heopened his eyes wide. The presentiment of what had happened suddenlystruck him, and he shouted, "Marianna!" in such a stentorian voice thatthe walls rang again.

  But she was beyond reach of his shouts. Antonio had taken advantage ofthe opportunity whilst Pasquale, oblivious of all about him and even ofhimself, was quarrelling with his double, to make his way to Marianna,and back with her through the audience, and out at a side door, where acarriage stood ready waiting; and away they went as fast as theirhorses could gallop towards Florence.

  "Marianna!" screamed the old man again, "Marianna! she is gone. She hasfled. That knave Antonio has stolen her from me. Away! after them! Havepity on me, good people, and take torches and help me to look for mylittle darling. Oh! you serpent!"

  And he tried to make for the door. But the officer held him fast,saying, "Do you mean that pretty young lady who sat beside you?I believe I saw her slip out with a young man--I think AntonioScacciati--a long time ago, when you began your idle quarrel with oneof the actors who wore a mask like your face. You needn't make atrouble of it; every inquiry shall at once be set on foot, and Mariannashall be brought back to you as soon as she is found. But as foryourself, Signor Pasquale, your behaviour here and your murderousattempt upon the life of that actor compel me to arrest you."

  Signor Pasquale, his face as pale as death, incapable
of uttering asingle word or even a sound, was led away by the very same gendarmeswho were to have protected him against masked devils and spectres. Thusit came to pass that on the selfsame night on which he had hoped tocelebrate his triumph, he was plunged into the midst of trouble and ofall the frantic despondency which amorous old fools feel when they aredeceived.