and judges fit to appreciate it; Florence has then rendered justice to the works of Master Capuzzi di Senegaglia!"
The self-esteem of the old man was so flattered by a distinction which he took seriously, that, without caring more about his spite against Salvator, president of the Academia de Percossi, he took pains to hasten, in full dress, to meet the honors which awaited him. The Spanish doublet was thoroughly brushed, the yellow feather for the hat was cleaned, the shoes were embellished with new rosettes, and the man of Ripetta street, followed by his rapier, bounded from his hotel to the palace inhabited by Salvator Rosa, before whom his gratitude displayed itself by numerous reverential bows.
Capuzzi's reception was so well arranged that he thought himself at the height of glory. After the academic session, during which every one praised the exquisite penetration of his judgment, the wit which shone, said they, in his least words, he was invited to a splendid banquet, where several glasses of generous wine drowned in sweet forgetfulness his domestic grief, and the important business which had drawn him to Florence. Profiting by this blissful state, Salvator hastened to arrange, with the assistance of his friends, a little play, with which he proposed to entertain his guest. At a given signal, the draperies which ornamented the lower part of the room were drawn slowly aside, and there appeared, as if by magic, a natural bower covered with flowers.
"Divine goodness!" exclaimed Capuzzi. "What do I see? That is Nicolo Musso's theatre!"
Without replying to him, two of the guests, Evangelista Coricelli and Andrea Cavalcanti, took him by the arms, and drew him softly towards an arm-chair, placed for him in front of the stage on which the play was about to be enacted.—Almost immediately Signor Formica appeared, in the dress of a clown.
"Accursed Formica!" exclaimed Capuzzi, springing from his place, with his fist clenched. But his two neighbors, who
