But they made the little man play, promising that they would not go beyond two games. He puffed very hard, and sat down to the little table with the engineer, Pasotti, and Pedraglio. Franco seated himself at the piano, and the lawyer placed himself beside him with the bassoon.
Between Pasotti and Pedraglio, two terrible quizzers, poor Signor Giacomo passed a short half-hour which was full of tribulation. They did not leave him alone a minute. "How goes it, _Scior Zacomo_?--Badly, badly! _Scior Zacomo_, are there no friars walking about in slippers?--Not one. And the bull, how is the bull, _Scior Zacomo_?--Stop, stop--A most accursed beast, eh?--Yes, indeed, Sir. And the servant, _Scior Zacomo_?" "Hush!" exclaimed Pasotti at this impertinent question of Pedraglio's. "Be prudent. On this point Signor Giacomo is having a great deal of trouble, through the indiscretion of certain individuals." "Let us not discuss it, most gracious Controller, let us not discuss it!" Signor Giacomo exclaimed, writhing all over, and the engineer advised him to send his tormentors to the devil. "But how is this, _Scior Zacomo_," Pasotti went on, undaunted, "don't you call that little priest indiscreet?" "I call him an ass!" Signor Giacomo answered angrily. Then Pasotti, smiling and triumphant, because this joke was really of his own making, ordered Pedraglio to be quiet, and started the game afresh, although Pedraglio was bursting with curiosity to hear the story.
Franco and the lawyer were studying a new composition for piano and bassoon, continually making mistakes and beginning over again. Presently Signora Bianconi came in on tiptoe that she might not interrupt the melody. No one noticed her entrance save Luisa, who made her sit down beside her on the little sofa near the piano.
Signora Peppina with her cordial good-nature, her long tongue, and her foolishness was irritating to Franco, but not to Luisa. Luisa liked her, but she was careful on account of Carlascia. From her garden Peppina had heard that "lovely song," and then the bassoon and the greetings; she had imagined there was going to be music, and she was "so madly fond of music, you know!" There was that lawyer who "blows into that shiny thing," to say nothing of Don Franco with those fingers of his "that seem bewitched." To hear the piano played with such precision was as good as hearing a barrel-organ, and she was "so awfully fond" of barrel-organs! She added that she had been afraid she should disturb them, but that her husband had encouraged her to come. And she asked if that other gentleman from Loveno did not play also; if they were going to stay long; and observed that both must be passionately fond of music.