“I have demanded twenty ducats for it,” sadly responded the fisherman, “and it is sold for that sum.”
“Impossible! In that case it would not be lying here!” replied Gianettino. “Or had the man paid you the money, and now gone for a cart for the conveyance of the giant?”
“I have not yet been paid.”
“The purchaser, then, has given you earnest money?”
“No, not even that. I have yet received nothing upon it.”
“And you can pretend that you have sold this fish,” cried Gianettino, “and that, too, for the ridiculously small sum of twenty ducats! Ah, you are a joker, my good man; you wish to excite in me a desire for this rare specimen, and therefore you say it is sold. But how can a fish that yet lies exposed for sale, and for which no one had made you a suitable offer, be already sold?”
And gravely approaching the giant of the waters, Gianettino laid his hand upon his head and solemnly said: “The fish is mine. I purchase it; you demand twenty ducats! But I shall give you what you ought to have, and what the creature is worth! I shall pay you six-and-thirty ducats for him!”
The crowd, which had maintained an anxious and breathless silence during this negotiation, now broke out with a loud and exulting shout.
“That is a real nobleman!”
“Evviva il ministro della cucina! Il grande Gianettino!”