"We shall see," replied the artist, "I shall do my best to get you out of this scrape; but"
"Ah, my dear, my excellent friend, do not abandon me!"
"You really say that, but you have treated me very severely!"
"Forget it, then, I beg of you!"
"I am satisfied to do so," continued Antonio; "but your niece, your niece must feel uneasy at your absence; she will die with anguish if she does not see you back again; so that, I think it would be prudent to have you transported to your own house; there I will look at the dressing again, and I will instruct Marianna in the care it will be necessary to take to hasten your cure."
At the remembrance of Marianna, Capuzzi shut his eyes and recollected himself for a moment; then he held out his hand to Antonio, and, drawing him towards him:—"Swear to me, my good sir, that you have no project against the repose of my niece."
"I swear it to you!" replied Antonio; "and you can have the same confidence in my words as you have in my care; I do not conceal from you that this little Marianna attracted me the first time that chance threw me in her way; I even had the weakness to reproduce, from remembrance, and feature for feature, her face in the picture of the Magdalen at the feet of the Saviour; but, in truth, it was nothing, as I am aware, but the passion of an artist. I esteem your niece: she is a piquant young girl, and I thought for a moment that I loved her; but I have, now, other affairs in hand."
"Ah, my dear friend, you do not love Marianna? Say so, repeat it again! this is a divine balm that you are pouring into my wounds! I feel myself cured, perfectly cured!"
"Really," exclaimed Salvator, "if you were not known as a wise and sensible man, it would be thought that you were madly in love with your niece!"
At these words Capuzzi shut his eyes again; his face contracted painfully, and he complained of a return of his pain.
