And thus, till about two miles from Colle di Val d’Elsa, we continued singing, joking, and talking. Then we became almost dumb, for nearly all our words migrated into a brother of Antonio del Pela who came to meet us, and conducted us into the tumbledown and ruined village of Colle to the house of the said Antonio. He came forward with such a river and flood of words that he drowned his brother, and us, and all who were near, and showed that he was truly the elder and the better brother. On entering the hall we found about thirty-five members of his family--girls, women, and children. My bore immediately began: “Madonna Clarice, this is my daughter, come forward, kiss the lady’s hand; and this is my granddaughter, come forward, touch her gown. And this one, and this one. And these little ones are all my grandchildren; hold yourselves up, think of your manners; this one is to be a priest, this one a nun, to this one Madonna Lucrezia stood godmother, this one I have just given in marriage, this one makes Venetian fringe, that one lace.” Plague take him. If I had not pulled him away he would have cast a spell on us all. But by asserting how tired Madonna Clarice and we all were I managed to damp his ardour. We arrived about twenty-two or twenty-three of the clock, and after resting we went to see paper made,[318] and returned to fetch Madonna Clarice, who thought it a pretty thing, and was much interested in the machines, the water, the air, &c. Then we went back and supped about one of the clock: a few wafers, cakes, and trebbiano,[319] salad and pickles, boiled fowl, and kid: and then young pigeons roasted, and I know not what preparation of fowl, marzipan, sweets, and comfits, &c.