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Rh his customers for macaroni as much as possible. Young Giulio soon made macaroni as well as his uncle, and then felt he had a soul superior to his situation. He settled his accounts summarily—that is to say, he took as many ducats as he could find, and joined a company of strolling comedians. If his musical talents had equalled his others, his fortune had been made; but he had a voice and ear that might have been English. He was next valet to an English nobleman, who lived in his carriage: he was cook to a cardinal, on the profits of whose kitchen he travelled for a while at his own expense. He went to Paris as an artist, who took likenesses in rose-coloured wax; and was successful to a degree as hair-dresser in London. He soon was what seemed wealthy to an Italian. As he grew rich, he grew sentimental—thought of grapes and sunshine—his first love—and his old uncle. He returned to Naples—found Serafina had married—grown fat, and had had seven children. His uncle was dead, and had left his property to a convent to say masses that his nephew might turn from his evil ways. Giulio felt idle and stupid—gambled and lost his last pistole—had