_Boccaccio._ I wonder what the Frate would be putting into her head? _Petrarca._ Nothing, nothing: be assured. _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 God, 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 assure you, is that poor little wench, Assuntina. _Petrarca._ I am convinced that so well-behaved a young creature as Assunta---- _Boccaccio._ Right! Assunta is her name by baptism; we usually call her Assuntina, 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 Assunta 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, shining 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. _Assunta._ 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. _Assunta._ Ah, sir! it must have been long ago then. _Petrarca._ Thou hast just entered upon life. _Assunta._ I am no child. _Petrarca._ What then art thou? _Assunta._ I know not: I have lost both father and mother; there is a name for such as I am. _Petrarca._ And a place in heaven. _Boccaccio._ Who brought us that fish, Assunta? hast paid for it? there must be seven pounds: I never saw the like.