his essences and electuaries, the tortures of which were not abated
even in the tomb. Hence the Pyramid Doctor, though he could not
contradict Signor Pasquale when he held that the whole thing was only a
trick performed by a parcel of wicked young men, continued to be in a
melancholy mood; and though, formerly, he was not greatly prone to
anything in the nature of superstition, he now saw spectres everywhere,
and was sorely plagued with presentiments and evil dreams.

As for Pitichinaccio, nothing would persuade him that those devils who
fell upon him and Signor Pasquale were not real and veritable demons
from the flames of hell, and he screamed aloud whenever any one so much
as alluded to that terrible night. All Pasquale's assurances that it
was only Antonio Scacciati and Salvator Rosa who were behind those
devil's masks were unavailing; for Pitichinaccio vowed, with many
tears, that, notwithstanding his terror, he distinctly recognized the
fiend Fanfarell, by his voice and appearance, and that said Fanfarell
had beaten his stomach black and blue.

It may be imagined what trouble Signor Pasquale had to persuade the
Pyramid Doctor and Pitichinaccio to go with him again to Musso's
theatre. Splendiano did not agree to do so until he had succeeded in
getting from a monk of the Order of St. Bernard a consecrated bag of
musk (the smell whereof neither dead men nor devils can abide), with
which he was proof against all attacks. Pitichinaccio could not resist
the promise of a box of grapes in sugar, but Signor Pasquale had to
expressly agree that he was not to wear female attire (which, he
thought, was what had brought the devils upon him), but go in his
Abbate's costume.

What Salvator had dreaded seemed thus to be about to insist on
happening, although, as he declared, his whole plot depended for
success upon Signor Pasquale and Marianna going by themselves, without
the faithful companions, to Musso's theatre.

Both he and Antonio cudgelled their brains how to keep Splendiano and
Pitichinaccio away; but there was not time enough to carry out any plan
having that for its aim, as the great stroke itself had to be struck on
the evening of the next day. But heaven--which often employs the oddest
tools in the punishment of foolish folk--interposed, in this instance,
in favour of the lovers, and so guided Michele that he gave the rein to
his natural dunderheadedness, and by that means brought about what the
skill of Salvator