’As to my condition, sir,’ said the boy, ’I dress as for a feast, our Master having prepared the board. Are we not redeemed and invited? We walk in joy since the Resurrection, and Limbo is emptied of its gloom. The kingdom of man shall be love, and the government thereof. Preach heresy in rags. ’Twas the Lord Abbot equipped me thus, my own stout heart prevailing. "Well, they will encounter an angel walking by the road," quoth he, "and, if they doubt, show ’em thy white shoulder-knobs, little Bernardino, and they will see the wings sprouting underneath like the teeth in a baby’s gums."’ He was evidently, if sage or lunatic, an amazing child. The rough libertine was quite captivated by him. ’Well, you will come with us, Bernardino?’ said he; ’for with a cracked skull it might go hard with you to prove your shoulder-blades.’ ’I will come, lord, to reap the harvest where I have sowed the grain.’ He looked with a serene severity at the countess. ’Shalt take thee pillion, Beatrice,’ shouted Lanti. ’Up, pretty troubadour, and recount her more parables by the way.’ ’May I die but he shall not,’ cried the girl. ’He shall, I say.’ ’I will bite, and rake him with my nails.’ ’The more fool you, to spoil a saint! Reproofs come not often in such a guise as this. Up, Bernardino, and parable her into submission!’ She made a show of resisting, in the midst of which Bembo won to his place deftly on the fore-saddle. At the moment of his success, the fool Cicada sprang from the tavern door, and, lurching with wild, glazed eyes, leapt, hooting, upon the crupper of the beast, almost bringing it upon its haunches. With an oath Lanti brought down his whip with such fury that the fool rolled in the dust. ’Drunken dog!’ he roared, and would have ridden over the writhing body, had not Bembo backed the white palfrey to prevent him. ’Thou strik’st the livery, not the man!’ he cried. ’Hast never thyself been drunk, and without the excuse of this poor fool to make a trade of folly?’ Messer Lanti glared, then in a moment laughed. The battered grasshopper took advantage of the diversion to rise and slink to the rear. The next moment the whole cavalcade was in motion. *CHAPTER II* They travelled on till sundown through the green plains; and, for one good hour dating from their start, not a word would Madam Beatrice utter. Then she gave out—Messer Carlo being a distance in advance—but with no grace at all. ’You are an ill horseman, Saint. I am near jogged from my seat.’ ’Put thine arms about me.’ ’Nay, I am not holy enough.’ She was silent again, for five minutes. ’Your lute bangs my nose.’ He shifted it. She held her peace during two minutes. ’Who taught you to play it, Saint?’ ’It was one of the fathers. What would it profit you to know which?’ ’Nothing at all. I trow he was a good master to that and your gospel.’ ’My gospel?’