‘Do you know where Panìco is?’
‘I know the Via di Panìco[2] which leads down to Ponte S. Angelo.’
‘Very well; at the end of Panìco[3] there is a frying-shop,[4] which, many years ago, was kept by an old man with a comely daughter. Both were well known all over the Rione.
‘One day there came an old gentleman, with a wig and tights, and a comical old-fashioned dress altogether, and said to the shopkeeper—
‘“I’ve observed that daughter of yours many days as I have passed by, and should like to make her my wife.”
‘“It’s a great honour for me, Sor Cassandro, that you should talk of such a thing,” answered the old man; and he said “Sor Cassandro” like that because everybody knew old Sor Cassandro with his wig, and his gold-knobbed stick, and his tights, and his old-fashioned gait. “But,” he added, as a knowing way of getting out of it, “you see it wouldn’t do for a friggitora to marry a gentleman; a friggitora must marry a friggitore.”
‘“I don’t know that that need be a bar,” replied Sor Cassandro.
‘“You don’t understand me, Sor Cassandro,” pursued the man.
‘“Yes, I understand perfectly,” answered the other. “You mean that if she must marry a friggitore, I must become a friggitore.”
‘“You a friggitore, Sor Cassandro! That would never do. How could you so demean yourself?”