Count Lattanzio had a daughter who was in love with a lawyer, but the
count was not at all inclined to let her marry beneath her station,
and he took all the pains imaginable to prevent them from meeting;
so much so that he scarcely left her out of his sight. One day he was
obliged to go to his vineyard outside the gates, and before he left
he gave strict injunctions to his servant to let no one in till he
came back at 21 o'clock. [312]
It was an hour before 21 o'clock, and there was a knock at the door.
'Is the Count Lattanzio in?'
'No, he won't be in just yet.'
'Ah, I know, he won't be in till 21 o'clock; he said I was to wait. I'm
come to measure him for a pair of new boots. [313]
'If he told you to wait I suppose you must,' said the servant;
'otherwise he had told me not to let anyone in.' And as he showed
him in he thought he was a rather gentlemanly bootmaker.
Soon after there was another knock.
'Is the Count Lattanzio in?'
'No, he won't be in for some time yet.'
'Ah, never mind; he said I was to wait if he hadn't come in. I'm the
tailor, come to measure him for a new suit.'
'If he said you were to wait I suppose you must,' answered the servant;
'but it's very odd he should have told you so, as he particularly
told me to let no one in.' However, he showed him in also. Directly
after there came another knock.
'Is the Count Lattanzio at home?'
'No, he won't be in for some time yet.'
'Never mind; I'm the lawyer engaged in his cause before the courts. He
said I was to wait if he wasn't in.'
But the servant began to get alarmed at having to disobey orders so
many times, and he thought he would make a stand.
'I'm very sorry,' he said, 'but master said I wasn't to show anyone
in.'
'What! when I've come here with my two clerks, on particular business
of the greatest importance to your master, do you suppose I'm going
away again like that, fellow?'
The servant was so amazed by his imperative manner that he let him
in, too.
Twenty-one o'clock came at last, and with it Count Lattanzio. Having
given orders that no one should be let in, of course he expected to
find no one. What was his astonishment, therefore, when, as he opened
the drawing-room door, a loud cry of 'Long live Count Lattanzio!' [314]
uttered by several voices, met his ear.
The shoemaker was the bridegroom, the tailor the best man, the lawyer
and his two clerks were the notary and his witnesses. The marriage
articles had been duly drawn up and signed, and as the parties were
of age there was no rescinding the contract.
Count Lattanzio sent away the servant for not attending to orders;
but that made no difference--the deed was done.