“My lord Gaspar tells of having known an old servant of Duke Ercole of Ferrara,[203] who offered the duke his two sons as pages; but before they could begin their service, both the boys died. When the duke heard this, he condoled with the father kindly, saying that he was very sorry, for the only time when he had seen them, they had seemed to him very pretty and gentle boys. The father replied: ‘My Lord, you saw nothing; for within the last few days they had grown far handsomer and more virtuous than I could possibly have believed, and already they sang together like two sparrow-hawks.’ “And not long since one of our doctors stood looking at a man who had been condemned to be flogged about the piazza, and taking pity on him, because (although his shoulders were bleeding freely) the poor wretch walked as slowly as if he had been out for a stroll to pass the time, the doctor said to him: ‘Step out, poor fellow, and make haste to be done with your pain.’ Whereat the goodman turned, and gazing at the doctor as if amazed, he stood awhile without speaking, and then said: ‘When you come to be flogged, you will go your own gait; so I choose to go mine now.’ “You surely must still remember that absurd story which my lord Duke[2] lately told of a certain abbot, who, being present one day when Duke Federico[26] was discussing what to do with the great mass of earth that had been excavated to lay the foundations of this palace, which was then building, said: ‘My Lord, I have thought of an excellent place to put it. Give orders to have an immense pit made, and it can be put in without further difficulty.’ Duke Federico replied, not without laughter: ‘And where shall we put the earth to be dug out of this pit of yours?’ The abbot continued: ‘Have it made large enough to hold both.’ And so, for all the duke repeated several times that the larger the pit was made, the more earth would be dug out of it, the man could never get it into his brain that it could not be made large enough to hold both, and kept replying: ‘Make it so much the larger.’ Now you see what good judgment this abbot had.” 52.—Then messer Pietro Bembo said: “And why do you not tell the story of your friend the Florentine commander who was besieged in Castellina[204] by the Duke of Calabria? Finding one day some poisoned crossbow missiles that had been shot in from the camp, he wrote to the duke that if the warfare was to be carried on so barbarously, he too would have medicine put on his cannon shot, and then woe to the one who had the worst of it.”[205] Messer Bernardo laughed, and said: “Messer Pietro, if you do not hold your peace, I will tell all the things I have seen and heard about your dear Venetians (which are not few), and especially when they try to play the horseman.” “Do not so, I beg of you,” replied messer Pietro, “and I will keep quiet about two other delightful tales that I know of the Florentines.”[206] Messer Bernardo said: