Part 58 (1/2)

Here, it is easy to perceive, is some slight ambiguity. Evidently she meant to say, by the seduction of 'bad' company, and to express that his Reverence had a.s.serted his power of absolution; which is undeniable.

_Boccaccio._ I have my version.

_Petrarca._ What may yours be?

_Boccaccio._ Frate Biagio; broad as daylight; the whole frock round!

I would wager a flask of oil against a turnip, that he laid another trap for a penance. Let us see how he went on. I warrant, as he warmed, he left off limping in his paces, and bore hard upon the bridle.

_Petrarca._ 'Much do I fear,' continued the expositor, 'he never spoke to thee, child, about another world.'

There was a silence of some continuance.

'Speak!' said the confessor.

'No indeed he never did, poor Padrone!' was the slow and evidently reluctant avowal of the maiden; for, in the midst of the acknowledgment her sighs came through the crevices of the door: then, without any farther interrogation, and with little delay, she added:

'But he often makes this look like it.'

_Boccaccio._ And now, if he had carried a holy scourge, it would not have been on his shoulders that he would have laid it.

_Petrarca._ Zeal carries men often too far afloat; and confessors in general wish to have the sole steerage of the conscience. When she told him that your benignity made this world another heaven, he warmly and sharply answered:

'It is only we who ought to do that.'

'Hush,' said the maiden; and I verily believe she at that moment set her back against the door, to prevent the sounds from coming through the crevices, for the rest of them seemed to be just over my night-cap. 'Hush,' said she, in the whole length of that softest of all articulations. 'There is Ser Francesco in the next room: he sleeps long into the morning, but he is so clever a clerk, he may understand you just the same. I doubt whether he thinks Ser Giovanni in the wrong for making so many people quite happy; and if he should, it would grieve me very much to think he blamed Ser Giovanni.'

'Who is Ser Francesco?' he asked, in a low voice.

'Ser Canonico,' she answered.

'Of what Duomo?' continued he.

'Who knows?' was the reply; 'but he is Padrone's heart's friend, for certain.'

'Cospetto di Bacco! It can then be no other than Petrarca. He makes rhymes and love like the devil. Don't listen to him, or you are undone. Does he love you too, as well as Padrone?' he asked, still lowering his voice.

'I cannot tell that matter,' she answered, somewhat impatiently; 'but I love him.'

'To my face!' cried he, smartly.

'To the Santissima!' replied she, instantaneously; 'for have not I told your Reverence he is Padrone's true heart's friend! And are not you my confessor, when you come on purpose?'

'True, true!' answered he; 'but there are occasions when we are shocked by the confession, and wish it made less daringly.'

'I was bold; but who can help loving him who loves my good Padrone?'

said she, much more submissively.

_Boccaccio._ Brave girl, for that!