_Eugenius._ It appears then really that the Infidels have some semblances of magnanimity and generosity? _Filippo._ I thought so when I turned over the many changes of fine linen; and I was little short of conviction when I found at the bottom of my chest two hundred Venetian zecchins. _Eugenius._ Corpo di Bacco! Better things, far better things, I would fain do for thee, not exactly of this description; it would excite many heart-burnings. Information has been laid before me, Filippo, that thou art attached to a certain young person, by name Lucrezia, daughter of Francesco Buti, a citizen of Prato. _Filippo._ I acknowledge my attachment: it continues. _Eugenius._ Furthermore, that thou hast offspring by her. _Filippo._ Alas! 'tis undeniable. _Eugenius._ I will not only legitimatize the said offspring by _motu proprio_ and rescript to consistory and chancery.... _Filippo._ Holy Father! Holy Father! For the love of the Virgin, not a word to consistory or chancery of the two hundred zecchins. As I hope for salvation, I have but forty left, and thirty-nine would not serve them. _Eugenius._ Fear nothing. Not only will I perform what I have promised, not only will I give the strictest order that no money be demanded by any officer of my courts, but, under the seal of Saint Peter, I will declare thee and Lucrezia Buti man and wife. _Filippo._ Man and wife! _Eugenius._ Moderate thy transport. _Filippo._ O Holy Father! may I speak? _Eugenius._ Surely she is not the wife of another? _Filippo._ No, indeed. _Eugenius._ Nor within the degrees of consanguinity and affinity? _Filippo._ No, no, no. But ... man and wife! Consistory and chancery are nothing to this fulmination. _Eugenius._ How so? _Filippo._ It is man and wife the first fortnight, but wife and man ever after. The two figures change places: the unit is the decimal and the decimal is the unit. _Eugenius._ What, then, can I do for thee? _Filippo._ I love Lucrezia; let me love her; let her love me. I can make her at any time what she is not; I could never make her again what she is. _Eugenius._ The only thing I can do then is to promise I will forget that I have heard anything about the matter. But, to forget it, I must hear it first. _Filippo._ In the beautiful little town of Prato, reposing in its idleness against the hill that protects it from the north, and looking over fertile meadows, southward to Poggio Cajano, westward to Pistoja, there is the convent of Santa Margarita. I was invited by the sisters to paint an altar-piece for the chapel. A novice of fifteen, my own sweet Lucrezia, came one day alone to see me work at my Madonna. Her blessed countenance had already looked down on every beholder lower by the knees. I myself who made her could almost have worshipped her. _Eugenius._ Not while incomplete; no half-virgin will do.