"I replied with a great burst of laughter, which I could not keep back, and which sorely disappointed Mons. Pagolo. He undertook then to be very pathetic, to reproach me with having no heart, and with wishing to cause his death, and so forth, and so forth. All the time working away with hammer and file, he talked to me in that strain for a full half-hour, for he's a loquacious rascal when he gives his mind to it." "What reply did you give him finally, Scozzone?" "What reply? Just as you knocked at the door, and he placed his clasp, finished at last, upon the table, I took his hand, and said to him very soberly, 'Pagolo, you have talked like a jewel!' That was why you found him looking so like an idiot when you came in." "You were wrong, Scozzone; you should not have discouraged him so." "You told me to listen to him and I listened. Do you think it's so very easy for me to listen to handsome boys? Suppose something should happen some fine day?" "You should not only listen to him, my child, but you must give him an answer: it is indispensable to my plan. Speak to him at first without anger, then indulgently, and then encouragingly. When you have reached that point, I will tell you what else you must do." "But that may have results you do not intend, do you know? At least you should be there." "Never fear, Scozzone, I will appear at the right moment. You have only to rely upon me, and follow my instructions to the letter. Go now, little one, and leave me to my work." Catherine tripped lightly away, laughing in pleased anticipation of the fine trick Cellini proposed to play upon Pagolo, of the nature of which, however, she could not form the least conception. Benvenuto, when she had left him, did not resume his work, as he had said; he rushed to the window which looked obliquely upon the garden of the Petit-Nesle, and stood there in rapt contemplation. A knock at the door rudely aroused him from his reverie. "Hail and tempest!" he cried in a rage, "who is there now? can I not be left in peace? Ten thousand devils!" "Forgive me, master," said Ascanio's voice; "if I disturb you, I will go away." "What! is it you, my child? No, no, surely not; you never disturb me. What is it, pray? what do you want with me!" Benvenuto lost no time in opening the door for his beloved pupil. "I interfere with your solitude and your work," said Ascanio. "No, Ascanio, you are always welcome." "Master, I have a secret to confide to you, a service to ask of you." "Speak. Will you have my purse? do you need my arm or my thoughts?" "I may have need of them all, dear master." "So much the better! I am yours body and soul, Ascanio. I have a confession to make to you, too: yes, a confession, for although I have committed no sin, I think, still I shall have some remorse until I am absolved by you. But do you speak first." "Very well, master.--But, great Heaven! what is that cast?" cried Ascanio, interrupting himself.