At length he said the Doctor showed gross ignorance in not knowing the very greatest composer of the day--none other than Signor Pasquale Capuzzi, who had done him the honour to take him into his service. Could he not see that Pasquarello was the friend and servant of Signor Pasquale?
The Doctor broke into an immoderate fit of laughter and cried: "What! had Pasquarello, after serving him, where, besides wages and food, many a good quattrino fell into his mouth, gone to the very greatest and most accomplished skinflint and miser that ever swallowed macaroni?--to the motley Carnival-fool, who strutted about like a turkey-cock after a shower?--to that cur, that amorous old coxcomb, who poisons the air in Strada Ripetta with that disgusting goat-bleating which he calls 'singing?'" &c., &c.
To this Pasquarello answered quite angrily, that it was mere envy on the Doctor's part. To speak with his heart in his hand (parla col cuore in mano) the Doctor was by no means in a position to pass a judgment on Signor Pasquale Capuzzi di Senegaglia. To speak heart in hand, the Doctor himself had a pretty good dash of all which he was finding fault with in the admirable Signor Pasquale. Speaking, as he was, heart in hand, he had often, himself, known some six hundred people or so to laugh with all their throats at Doctor Graziano himself. And then Pasquarello held forth at great length in praise of his new master, Signor Pasquale, attributing to him all possible excellences, and finishing with a description of his character, which he made out to be absolutely perfect as regarded amiability and lovableness.
"Blessed Formica!" whispered Signor Capuzzi aside to himself, "I see that you have determined to render my triumph complete, by rubbing the noses of the Romans in all the envy and ingratitude with which they have persecuted me, and showing them clearly whom and what I am."
"Here comes my master himself," cried Pasquarello; and there came on to the stage Signor Capuzzi, as he lived and moved, in dress, face, walk, and manner--in all respects so exactly similar to the Capuzzi down in the audience part of the house, that the latter, quite alarmed, let go his hold of Marianna (whom he had been holding up to this time with one hand), and rubbed his nose and periwig, as if to find out whether he was awake or dreaming of seeing his own double, or really in Nicolo Musso's theatre, obliged to believe his eyes, and infer that he did see this miraculous appearance.
The Capuzzi on the stage embraced Doctor Graziano with much amity, and inquired after his welfare. The Doctor said his appetite was good, at his service (per servir-lo), and his sleep sound; but that his purse laboured under a complete depletion. Yesterday, in honour of his lady love, he said, he had spent his last ducat in buying a pair of rosemary stockings, and he was just going to certain bankers to see if they would lend him thirty ducats.
"How could you think of such a thing?" cried Capuzzi. "Why pass the door of your best friend? Here, my dear sir, are fifty ducats; pray accept them."
"Pasquale, what are you doing?" cried the Capuzzi down in the audience, half aloud.
Doctor Graziano talked of giving a bill and paying interest; but the stage Capuzzi vowed he could not think of taking either from such a friend as the Doctor. "Pasquale! are you crazy?" cried the Capuzzi below, louder.
Doctor Graziano made his exit here, after many grateful embracings. Pasquarello then went forward, with lowly reverences; lauded Signor Capuzzi to the skies; said his (Pasquarello's) purse was afflicted with the same malady as the Doctor's, and begged for some of the same medicine. The Capuzzi on the stage laughed, saying he was glad that Pasquarello knew how to take advantage of his good dispositions, and threw him two or three shining ducats.