Come along with me up to my poor dwelling."

Almost before Nicolo got into the room, the old gentleman brought
forward a great pile of dusty music manuscript, opened it, and, taking
his guitar in his hands, began to deliver himself of a series of
frightful high-pitched screams which he denominated singing.

Nicolo behaved like one in raptures. He sighed; he uttered extravagant
expressions of approval; he exclaimed at intervals, "_Bravo!
Bravissimo! Benedettissimo Capuzzi!_" until at last he threw himself at
the old man's feet as if utterly beside himself with ecstatic delight,
and grasped his knees. But he nipped them so hard that the old
gentleman jumped off his seat, calling out with pain, and saying to
Nicolo, "By the saints! Let me go, Signor Nicolo; you'll kill me."

"Nay," replied Nicolo, "nay, Signor Pasquale, I will not rise until
you have promised that Formica may sing in my theatre the day after
to-morrow the divine arias which you have just executed."

"You are a man of taste," groaned Pasquale,--"a man of deep insight. To
whom could I better intrust my compositions than to you? You shall take
all my arias with you. Only let me go. But, good God! I shall not hear
them--my divine masterpieces! Oh! let me go, Signor Nicolo."

"No," cried Nicolo, still on his knees, and tightly pressing the old
gentleman's thin spindle-shanks together, "no, Signor Pasquale, I will
not let you go until you give me your word that you will be present in
my theatre the night after to-morrow. You need not fear any new attack!
Why, don't you think that the Romans, once they have heard your work,
will bring you home in triumph by the light of hundreds of torches? But
in case that does not happen, I myself and my faithful comrades will
take our arms and accompany you home ourselves."

"You yourself will accompany me home, with your comrades?" asked
Pasquale; "and how many may that be?"

"Eight or ten persons will be at your command, Signor Pasquale. Do
yield to my intercession and resolve to come."

"Formica has a fine voice," lisped Pasquale. "How finely he will
execute my arias."

"Do come, oh! do come!" exhorted Nicolo again, giving the old
gentleman's knees an extra grip.

"You will pledge yourself that I shall reach my own house without being
molested?" asked the old gentleman.

"I pledge my honour and my life," was Nicolo's reply, as he gave the
knees a still sharper grip.

"Agreed!" cried the old gentleman; "I will