“Nevertheless, name the price!”
“Twenty ducats!”
“Twenty ducats!” exclaimed Gianettino, with an expression of the liveliest astonishment. “You jest, my friend! How can such a splendid animal be possibly sold for twenty ducats?”
“Here! hear!” shouted the crowd. “He finds the price too low!”
“He is a real gentleman!”
“He will not buy gudgeons like the Spaniard!”
“In earnest, friend, tell me the price of this fish!” said Gianettino.
“I have demanded twenty ducats for it,” sadly responded the fisherman, “and it is sold for that sum.”
“Impossible! In that case it would not be lying here!” replied Gianettino. “Or had the man paid you the money, and now gone for a cart for the conveyance of the giant?”
“I have not yet been paid.”
“The purchaser, then, has given you earnest money?”
“No, not even that. I have yet received nothing upon it.”
“And you can pretend that you have sold this fish,” cried Gianettino, “and that, too, for the ridiculously small sum of twenty ducats! Ah, you are a joker, my good man; you wish to excite in me a desire for this rare specimen, and therefore you say it is sold. But how can a fish that yet lies exposed for sale, and for which no one had made you a suitable offer, be already sold?”
And gravely approaching the giant of the waters, Gianettino laid his hand upon his head and solemnly said: “The fish is mine. I purchase it; you demand twenty ducats! But I shall give you what you ought to have, and what the creature is worth! I shall pay you six-and-thirty ducats for him!”
The crowd, which had maintained an anxious and breathless silence during this negotiation, now broke out with a loud and exulting shout.
“That is a real nobleman!”
“Evviva il ministro della cucina! Il grande Gianettino!”
“That is no parsimonious Spaniard! He is a French cavalier. He will buy no gudgeons, but will have the right Roman fish.”
“Gentlemen,” said Gianettino, modestly casting down his eyes, “I do not understand your praises, and it seems to me I only deal like a man of honor, as every one of you would do! This honest man taxes his wares too low; I give him what they are worth! That is all. If I acted otherwise I should not long remain in the service of the lofty and generous Cardinal Bernis! Justice and generosity, that is the first command of his excellency!”
“Evviva the French ambassador!”
“Praise and honor to Cardinal Bernis!”
And while the people were thus shouting, Gianettino from his well-filled purse paid down the six-and-thirty ducats upon the fisherman’s board. He then commanded his six attendant scullions to bear off the fish.
It was, indeed, a heavy work to place the enormous animal upon their baskets, but the active Romans cheerfully lent a hand, and when they had succeeded in the difficult task, and the six youngsters bent under their heavy load, Signor Gianettino gravely put himself at the head of the train, and proudly gave the order: “Forward to the kitchen of his excellency Cardinal Bernis!”