Meanwhile, day began to break, Antonio and Salvator raised the mattress of the sick man, who in vain begged to have the compresses taken off, his wig and moustache adjusted, in order that his appearance should not frighten Marianna. Two laboring men were waiting in the street with a litter, on which they placed Capuzzi. Dame Catherine, who was not in the secret of the artists, wanted to follow him home, to lecture him again as he deserved. She spread over the litter an old worn out cloak, and this procession took the road to Ripetta street.
Marianna, seeing her uncle in this pitiful state, burst into tears, and covered his wrinkled hands with kisses. It was a touching sight to see this young girl disconsolate for the misfortune which had happened to her persecutor; but such is the quickness of woman's instinct, that a sign from Salvator was sufficient to reveal to her the mystification of which Capuzzi was the subject. Modesty was mingled with joy, Marianna saw near, her beloved Antonio: a quick blush covered her pale cheeks, and an adorably malicious smile sparkled amidst her tears. Pasquale Capuzzi was so overjoyed with the tender welcome of his niece, that he forgot his hurt, and you could imagine nothing more grotesque than his amorous postures and his lover's sighs. But Antonio did not give him time to recover himself; the splints were removed and more closely bound; they bundled up the imaginary sick manlike a wooden doll, his head buried in a heap of cushions, and Salvator discreetly retired, to leave the two lovers to the unlooked for happiness of seeing each other again. The young girl had appeared to him, in this interview, of admirable beauty. That ravishing face was a thousand times more worthy of being traced as the image of the Mother of God than the patron saint of penitent women. The artist felt a touch of jealousy, but it was as evanescent as air, and the natural loyalty of his character immediately dissipated this movement of the passions, caused by a masterpiece of grace. Salvator thought no longer of anything except finishing his finest
