“‘Respect the tree, and let it be, From branch to root, nor touch its fruit! Of itself the tree did grow, From a dog who long ago, Enchanted by the fairies’ power, Was buried here in mystic hour; Therefore we bid you let it stand, And if you follow the command You will be happy all your days, But woe to him who disobeys!’ “Now, the owner of the palazzo and garden was a man who had no faith in old legends, or love for such mysteries as these, and so he said, ‘It is time to put an end to all this superstition, and I am determined to at once see whether all my prosperity depends on a fig-tree; so do you cut it down and tear it up, root and branch, utterly.’ “This was at once done by the labourers, but, while doing so, they heard sounds as of wailing and great lamenting in the earth beneath them. And when they, astonished, asked the signore to listen to the voices, he replied, ‘Away with your superstitions; we will see this time whether the tree will grow or return again.’ “Truly it did not return, but passed away for ever, and with it all the property and prosperity of the lord. For in time he had to sell all he had, and, losing what he got, died in poverty. Then those who had to go in the street where his palace had been would say, ‘_Andiamo nella Via del Fico_,’ just as they say, ‘_Andar per la Via de’ Carri_,’ but meaning to ‘go in the way of what is worthless or poverty-stricken,’ and so it was that the street came by its name.” * * * * *