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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Well, then, you shall order another sign-frame of the smith; you shall paint six physicians, and write underneath 'Aux Medici' which makes a very pretty play upon words." "Six physicians! impossible! And the composition?" cried Pittrino. "That is your business but so it shall be I insist upon it it must be so my macaroni is burning." This reasoning was peremptory Pittrino obeyed.
Himself, his wife, Pittrino, and two cooks, immediately laid hands upon all the inhabitants of the dove-cote, the poultry-yard, and the rabbit-hutches; so that as many lamentations and cries resounded in the yards of the hostelry of the Medici as were formerly heard in Rama. Cropole had, at the time, but one single traveler in his house.
How strongly he resembles his illustrious father!" "A handsome likeness!" said Pittrino. "And what a lofty carriage he has!" added Madame Cropole, already in promiscuous commentary with her neighbors of both sexes.
These illustrious ladies appeared so lovely on the sign, they presented to the astonished eyes such an assemblage of lilies and roses, the enchanting result of the change of style in Pittrino they assumed the poses of sirens so Anacreontically that the principal echevin, when admitted to view this capital piece in the salle of Cropole, at once declared that these ladies were too handsome, of too animated a beauty, to figure as a sign in the eyes of passers-by.
Pittrino, grateful, and fed with macaroni, set about propagating the reputation of this national dish, and from the time of its founder, he had rendered, with his indefatigable tongue, signal services to the house of Cropoli.
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!
I say this for your sake, Master Cropole, as well for yours, Signor Pittrino." What answer could be made to this? It was necessary to thank the echevin for his kindness, which Cropole did. But Pittrino remained downcast and said he felt assured of what was about to happen. The visitor was scarcely gone when Cropole, crossing his arms, said: "Well, master, what is to be done?"
Pittrino, grateful, and fed with macaroni, set about propagating the reputation of this national dish, and from the time of its founder, he had rendered, with his indefatigable tongue, signal services to the house of Cropoli.
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