his eyebrows, and said, "It is easy to see that
you are a fine musician yourself, Signor, for you have taste, and you
can value people better than the unthankful Romans. Listen, listen to
the aria of all arias."

He rose up, stood on the extreme points of his tiptoes, stretched out
his arms, and closed both his eyes (so that he was exactly like a cock
making ready for a crow), and immediately began to utter such a
terrible screeching that the walls resounded again, and Dame Caterina
came rushing in with her two daughters, having no other idea than that
the terrible howling indicated the happening of some signal disaster.
They stood completely bewildered in the doorway when they became aware
of the old gentleman crooning in this manner, thus constituting
themselves the audience of this unheard-of virtuoso, Capuzzi.

But as this was going on, Salvator had set the spinett to rights, shut
down the top of it, taken his palette and set to work to paint, in bold
touches, upon the very cover of the spinett, the most wonderful subject
imaginable. The principal theme of it was a scene from Cavalli's opera,
'Le Nozze di Teti;' but there was mingled with this, in utterly
fantastic fashion, a whole crowd of other characters, amongst whom were
Capuzzi, Antonio, Marianna (exactly as she appeared in Antonio's
picture), Salvator himself, Dame Caterina and her daughters, and even
the Pyramid Doctor, and all so genially and comprehendingly pourtrayed,
that Antonio could not conceal his delight at the Maestro's talent and
technique.

The old fellow by no means restricted himself to the scena which
Salvator had asked him for, but went on singing, or rather crowing,
without cessation, working his way through the most terrible
recitatives from one diabolical aria to another. This may have
gone on for some two hours or so, till he sank down into an arm-chair,
cherry-brown of countenance. By that time, however, Salvator had got so
far with his sketch that everything in it appeared to be alive, and the
effect of it, when seen a little way off, was that of a finished
picture.

"I have kept my promise as regards the spinett, dear Signor Capuzzi,"
Salvator whispered into the old man's ear, and Capuzzi sprang up like
one awaking from sleep. His eyes fell on the painted spinett; he opened
them wide, as if looking upon a miracle, crammed his peaked hat down on
to his periwig, took his crook-headed stick under his arm, made one
jump to the spinett