"Then you are a doctor too," said Salvator, in a faint, melancholy tone.
"No," answered the young gentleman, while a bright colour came to his cheek, "my dear, renowned master, I am not a doctor like Signor Splendiano Accoramboni; I am a surgeon. I thought I should have sunk into the ground with terror--with joy--when Father Bonifazio told me Salvator Rosa was lying sick to death in Strada Vergognona and requiring my assistance. I hastened here, opened a vein in your left arm, and you were saved. We brought you here to this cool, airy room, where you used to live before. Look around you; there is the easel which you left behind you; there are one or two sketches still, preserved, like holy relics, by Dame Caterina. Your illness has had its back broken. Simple remedies, which Father Bonifazio will give you, and careful nursing will set you on your legs again. And now, permit me once more to kiss this creative hand, which calls forth, as by magic, the most hidden secrets of nature. Permit the poor Antonio Scacciati to allow all his heart to stream forth in delight and fervent gratitude that heaven vouchsafed to him the good fortune to save the life of the glorious and renowned master, Salvator Rosa."
He again knelt, seized Salvator's hand, kissed it, and bedewed it with hot tears as before.
"I cannot tell, dear Antonio," said Salvator, raising himself up a little, "what strange spirit inspires you to exhibit such a profound veneration for me. You say you are a surgeon, and that is a calling which does not usually pair itself readily with art."
"When you have got some strength back, dear master," answered Antonio, "there are many matters lying heavy at my heart which I will tell you of."
"Do so," said Salvator; "place full confidence in me--you may, for I do not know when a man's face went more truly to my very heart than does yours. The more I look at you the more clear it becomes to me that there is a great likeness in your face to that of the heavenly, godlike lad--I mean the Sanzio." Antonio's eyes glowed with flashing fire; he seemed to strive in vain to find words.
Just then Dame Caterina came in with Father Bonifazio, bringing a draught which he had skilfully compounded, and which the sick man took, and relished better than the Acherontic liquids of the Pyramid Doctor, Splendiano Accoramboni.
Antonio Scacciati comes to high honour through the intervention of Salvator Rosa.--He confides to Salvator the causes of his continual sorrowfulness, and Salvator comforts him, and promises him help.
What Antonio promised came to pass. The simple, healing medicines of Father Bonifazio, the careful nursing of Dame Caterina and her daughters, the mild season of the year which just then came on, had such a speedy effect on Salvator's strong constitution, that he soon felt well enough to begin thinking of his art, and, as a beginning, made some magnificent sketches for pictures which he intended to paint at a future time.