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Capuzzi on the stage embraced Doctor Gratiano with great kindness, and asked how he was. Only yesterday he had spent his last ducat for a pair of rosemary-coloured stockings for his sweetheart, and was just going to walk round to one or two bankers to see if he could borrow thirty ducats" "But how can you pass over your best friends?" said Capuzzi.

"You lie, you scoundrel, in your throat!" screamed the Capuzzi below, rising from his seat. "Silence! sit down!" cried the audience; the women who were sitting near him dragged him down into his place. The stage-Capuzzi went on to say it was time, now, to come to matters of more importance.

"Pasquale, what are you doing?" cried the Capuzzi down in the audience, half aloud. Doctor Graziano talked of giving a bill and paying interest; but the stage Capuzzi vowed he could not think of taking either from such a friend as the Doctor. "Pasquale! are you crazy?" cried the Capuzzi below, louder. Doctor Graziano made his exit here, after many grateful embracings.

"Salvator!" exclaimed Marianna, Antonio, and Capuzzi, utterly astounded.

"Has he got her?" cried Capuzzi, beyond himself; "has he got her again, the good Capuzzi? Has he got his little dove again; his Marianna? Is the scoundrel Antonio in prison? O most blessed Formica!" "You take too lively an interest in the piece, Signor Pasquale," said Cavalcanti very seriously. "Pray allow the actors to speak, and do not interrupt them."

Pitichinaccio whined and cried; Capuzzi, to his torment, had to take him on his left arm, having Marianna on his right; before them went Doctor Splendiano with his candle-stump, whose feeble rays made the darkness of the night seem deeper. While they were still some distance from the Porto del Popolo, they found themselves suddenly surrounded by several tall figures, thickly wrapped in cloaks.

"Ah, Salvator!" answered Antonio; "it is all over with my happiness. The devil delights in making me the sport of his tricks. Our plots have all come to nothing, and we are at open war with the accursed Capuzzi." "So much the better! so much the better!" said Salvator. "But tell me what has been happening." "Just imagine, Salvator," said Antonio.

He sighed; he uttered extravagant expressions of approval; he exclaimed at intervals, "Bravo! Bravissimo! Benedettissimo Capuzzi!" until at last he threw himself at the old man's feet as if utterly beside himself with ecstatic delight, and grasped his knees. But he nipped them so hard that the old gentleman jumped off his seat, calling out with pain, and saying to Nicolo, "By the saints!

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "Florence is the place then where a man's merits are recognised, where Pasquale Capuzzi di Senigaglia, a man gifted with the most excellent talents, is known and valued."

Scarce had the Capuzzi on the stage uttered those words, than he of the audience, quite beside himself, and incapable of further self-control, sprang up, with all the fury of a demon in his face of fire, clenched both his fists at his counterfeit, and screamed out at him, in a yelling voice: "That you shall not! that you shall never! you infernal scoundrel of a Pasquale!