Part 58 (2/2)

Dog of a Frate! They are all of a kidney; all of a kennel. I would dilute their meal well and keep them low. They should not waddle and wallop in every hollow lane, nor loll out their watery tongues at every wash-pool in the parish. We shall hear, I trust, no more about Fra Biagio in the house while you are with us. Ah! were it then for life.

_Petrarca._ The man's prudence may be reasonably doubted, but it were uncharitable to question his sincerity. Could a neighbour, a religious one in particular, be indifferent to the welfare of Boccaccio, or any belonging to him?

_Boccaccio._ I do not complain of his indifference. Indifferent! no, not he. He might as well be, though. My villetta here is my castle: it was my father's; it was his father's. Cowls did not hang to dry upon the same cord with caps in their podere; they shall not in mine. The girl is an honest girl, Francesco, though I say it. Neither she nor any other shall be befooled and bamboozled under my roof. Methinks Holy Church might contrive some improvement upon confession.

_Petrarca._ Hus.h.!.+ Giovanni! But, it being a matter of discipline, who knows but she might.

_Boccaccio._ Discipline! ay, ay, ay! faith and troth there are some who want it.

_Petrarca._ You really terrify me. These are sad surmises.

_Boccaccio._ Sad enough: but I am keeper of my handmaiden's probity.

_Petrarca._ It could not be kept safer.

_Boccaccio._ I wonder what the Frate would be putting into her head?

_Petrarca._ Nothing, nothing: be a.s.sured.

_Boccaccio._ Why did he ask her all those questions?

_Petrarca._ Confessors do occasionally take circuitous ways to arrive at the secrets of the human heart.

_Boccaccio._ And sometimes they drive at it, me thinks, a whit too directly. He had no business to make remarks about me.

_Petrarca._ Anxiety.

_Boccaccio._ 'Fore G.o.d, Francesco, he shall have more of that; for I will shut him out the moment I am again up and stirring, though he stand but a nose's length off. I have no fear about the girl; no suspicion of her. He might whistle to the moon on a frosty night, and expect as reasonably her descending. Never was a man so entirely at his ease as I am about that; never, never. She is adamant; a bright sword now first unscabbarded; no breath can hang about it. A seal of beryl, of chrysolite, of ruby; to make impressions (all in good time and proper place though) and receive none: incapable, just as they are, of splitting, or cracking, or flawing, or harbouring dirt. Let him mind that. Such, I a.s.sure you, is that poor little wench, a.s.suntina.

_Petrarca._ I am convinced that so well-behaved a young creature as a.s.sunta----

_Boccaccio._ Right! a.s.sunta is her name by baptism; we usually call her a.s.suntina, because she is slender, and scarcely yet full-grown, perhaps: but who can tell?

As for those friars, I never was a friend to impudence: I hate loose suggestions. In girls' minds you will find little dust but what is carried there by gusts from without. They seldom want sweeping; when they do, the broom should be taken from behind the house door, and the master should be the sacristan.

... Scarcely were these words uttered when a.s.sunta was heard running up the stairs; and the next moment she rapped. Being ordered to come in, she entered with a willow twig in her hand, from the middle of which willow twig (for she held the two ends together) hung a fish, s.h.i.+ning with green and gold.

'What hast there, young maiden?' said Ser Francesco.

'A fish, Riverenza!' answered she. 'In Tuscany we call it _tinca_.'

_Petrarca._ I too am a little of a Tuscan.

_a.s.sunta._ Indeed! well, you really speak very like one, but only more sweetly and slowly. I wonder how you can keep up with Signor Padrone--he talks fast when he is in health; and you have made him so.

Why did not you come before? Your Reverence has surely been at Certaldo in time past.

_Petrarca._ Yes, before thou wert born.

<script>