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At the present day even, when the memory of the Blaisois begins to be faint with regard to these two celebrated persons, who would recognize Catherine and Mary without the words 'To the Medici'?" "But the figures?" said Pittrino, in despair; for he felt that young Cropole was right. "I should not like to lose the fruit of my labor."
"And I should not wish you to be thrown into prison and myself into the oubliettes." "Let us efface 'Medici," said Pittrino, supplicatingly. "No," replied Cropole, firmly. "I have got an idea, a sublime idea your picture shall appear, and my legend likewise. Does not 'Medici' mean doctor, or physician, in Italian?" "Yes, in the plural."
"We must efface the legend," said Pittrino, in a melancholy tone. "I have some excellent ivory-black; it will be done in a moment, and we will replace the Medici by the nymphs or the sirens, whichever you prefer." "No," said Cropole, "the will of my father must be carried out. My father considered " "He considered the figures of the most importance," said Pittrino.
Pittrino was puffed up with all the joy of a rehabilitation. He did as Raphael had done he changed his style, and painted, in the fashion of the Albanian, two goddesses rather than two queens.
He was seen at once rummaging with ardor in an old box, in which he found some brushes, a little gnawed by the rats, but still passable; some linseed-oil in a bottle, and a palette which had formerly belonged to Bronzino, that dieu de la pittoure, as the ultramontane artist, in his ever young enthusiasm, always called him. Pittrino was puffed up with all the joy of a rehabilitation.
Cropoli, in his character of a compatriot, was indulgent towards Pittrino, which was the name of the artist. Perhaps he had seen the famous pictures of the bath-room. Be this as it may, he held in such esteem, we may say in such friendship, the famous Pittrino, that he took him in his own house.
At the angle of the street there remained nothing beneath the stranger but a few hoarse, discordant voices, shouting at intervals "Vive le Roi!" There remained likewise the six candles held by the inhabitants of the hostelry des Medici; that is to say, two for Cropole, two for Pittrino, and one for each scullion. Cropole never ceased repeating, "How good-looking the king is!
At the present day even, when the memory of the Blaisois begins to be faint with regard to these two celebrated persons, who would recognize Catherine and Mary without the words 'To the Medici'?" "But the figures?" said Pittrino, in despair; for he felt that young Cropole was right. "I should not like to lose the fruit of my labor."
Cropole turned around, and, on seeing the old man, cleared a passage for him. The window was instantly closed. Pittrino pointed out the way to the newly-arrived guest, who entered without uttering a word. The stranger waited for him on the landing; he opened his arms to the old man, and led him to a seat. "Oh, no, no, my lord!" said he. "Sit down in your presence? never!"
Cropoli, in his character of a compatriot, was indulgent towards Pittrino, which was the name of the artist. Perhaps he had seen the famous pictures of the bath-room. Be this as it may, he held in such esteem, we may say in such friendship, the famous Pittrino, that he took him in his own house.
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