_Assunta._ Nobody is ever unhappy here, except Fra Biagio, who frets sometimes: but that may be the walk; or he may fancy Ser Giovanni to be worse than he really is. ... Having now performed her mission and concluded her narrative, she bowed, and said: 'Excuse me, Riverenza! excuse me, Signor Padrone! my arm aches with this great fish.' Then, bowing again, and moving her eyes modestly toward each, she added, 'with permission!' and left the chamber. 'About the sposina,' after a pause began Ser Francesco: 'about the sposina, I do not see the matter clearly.' 'You have studied too much for seeing all things clearly,' answered Ser Giovanni; 'you see only the greatest. In fine, the devil, on this count, is acquitted by acclamation; and the paroco Snello eats lettuce and chicory up yonder at Laverna. He has mendicant friars for his society every day; and snails, as pure as water can wash and boil them, for his repast on festivals. Under this discipline, if they keep it up, surely one devil out of legion will depart from him.' FOOTNOTES: [15] Literally, _due fave_, the expression on such occasions to signify a small quantity. [16] Contraction of _signor_, customary in Tuscany. FOURTH DAY'S INTERVIEW _Petrarca._ Giovanni, you are unsuspicious, and would scarcely see a monster in a minotaur. It is well, however, to draw good out of evil, and it is the peculiar gift of an elevated mind. Nevertheless, you must have observed, although with greater curiosity than concern, the slipperiness and tortuousness of your detractors. _Boccaccio._ Whatever they detract from me, they leave more than they can carry away. Beside, they always are detected. _Petrarca._ When they are detected, they raise themselves up fiercely, as if their nature were erect and they could reach your height. _Boccaccio._ Envy would conceal herself under the shadow and shelter of contemptuousness, but she swells too huge for the den she creeps into. Let her lie there and crack, and think no more about her. The people you have been talking of can find no greater and no other faults in my writings than I myself am willing to show them, and still more willing to correct. There are many things, as you have just now told me, very unworthy of their company. _Petrarca._ He who has much gold is none the poorer for having much silver too. When a king of old displayed his wealth and magnificence before a philosopher, the philosopher's exclamation was: 'How many things are here which I do not want!' Does not the same reflection come upon us, when we have laid aside our compositions for a time, and look into them again more leisurely? Do we not wonder at our own profusion, and say like the philosopher: 'How many things are here which I do not want!' It may happen that we pull up flowers with weeds; but better this than rankness. We must bear to see our first-born dispatched before our eyes, and give them up quietly.