sigh afresh, and lisp out in his mournful,
_castrato_ voice, "Ah, Carissima! Benedetissima! Ah, Marianna!
Marianna! Belissima!" &c.

Salvator, always greedy after figures of this sort, got as near to him
as he could, and tried to enter into conversation with him about
Scacciati's picture, which seemed to delight him so much; but, without
taking much heed of Salvator, the old fellow cursed his poverty, which
would not allow him to buy this picture for a million, and so prevent
any one else from fixing his devilish glances upon it. And then he
hopped up and down again, and thanked the Virgin and all the saints
that the infernal painter who had painted this heavenly picture, which
drove him to madness and despair, was dead and gone.

Salvator came to the conclusion that the man must be either a maniac,
or some Academician of San Luca whom he did not know.

All Rome rang with the fame of Scacciati's wonderful picture. Scarce
anything else was talked of, and this ought to have been enough to show
its superiority. When the painters held their next meeting in San Luca
to decide as to the reception of sundry applicants for admission,
Salvator Rosa made a sudden inquiry whether the painter of the
Magdalene at the Saviour's feet would not have been worthy to be
admitted. All the members of the Academy, not excepting the excessively
critical Cavaliere Josepin, declared, with one voice, that such a great
master would have been an ornament to the Academy, and, in the most
studied forms of speech, expressed their regret that he was dead
(though in their hearts they thanked heaven that he was). Not only
this, but in their enthusiasm for art, they decided to elect this
marvellous young painter an Academician, notwithstanding that he had
been withdrawn from art by a premature death; directing masses to be
said for the repose of his soul in the church of San Luca. Wherefore
they requested Salvator to acquaint them with the full names of the
deceased, as well as the year and place of his birth, &c., &c.

On this Salvator rose up and said: "Signori, the honours which you fain
would pay to a man in his grave are due to, and had better be bestowed
on, a living painter, who is walking to and fro in our midst. Know ye
that the Magdalene at the Saviour's feet--the picture which you have
such a high opinion of justly, and esteem so highly above anything
which living painters have produced--is not the work of a Neapolitan
painter no longer in