60 The Rat-Trap. [Jax. 



'' Silence 1" exclaimed he of the sword and turkey, who was no other 

 than Pezzali himself, " and let the reverend traveller approach ! for — 

 peace be with him — he comes in time to end our difference. Holy 

 father ! — but methinks his excellent sanctity seems surprised ? — Guiseppe, 

 shut the gate ! now out on thee for a host I hast no more manners but' 

 to stand with the latch in thy hand, as though a carrier were to take his 

 bridle cup with thee, and pass with a gee ho ! and a good morning ? — 

 Reverend father — nay, quit thy pious ruminations — thou art not in the pul- 

 pit now, and so mayst speak thy mind and never lose thy calling. Come ! 

 plain understandings make the best friends — ne'er stand amazed, or we 

 shall doubt thou wishest thou hadst gone on to the next inn — or even 

 abided in the forest I — Say now — speak out, and boldly — what dost thou 

 think of this good present company ?" 



" My errand he^e, good friends," said Sansovino, " was a lawful one — 

 but to seek shelter against the storm which threatened me, in common 

 with yourselves, or any who might be exposed to it. And you do ill to 

 demand from me the expression of opinions, which I have had small 

 means yet of accurately forming, and which, as far as I have formed 

 them, it might be uncivil, perhaps, for me to utter." 



" Which is, in good terms, to profess that we look more like thieves 

 than confessors, every man of us ?" returned Pezzali. — " 1 ever kne^v j'our 

 churchman to be most straight laced in all opinions, and illiberal ! But 

 mark noAv — 'that which thou hast never learned in thy convent — what it 

 is to hold power, and yet have mercy. Thou hast come among us at our 

 need, and we will deal with thee pitifully. Simplj^ therefore, the case 

 stands thus. Our host's son here — domestic in ordinary of all work to 

 this inn — lies ill in the stable yonder of a fever. This honest poor woman, 

 his mother, to whom heaven send a sweeter face, is the best scullion 

 that ever cased a rabbit ; but what then ? one pair of hands cannot 

 do all. Supper is toward — we have an enterprise of moment on hand — 

 but in the meantime there is positively nobody to turn the spit ! and 

 we were just going to draw knives, to decide on whom that particular 

 duty should fall, when much luck — or surely a more sacred dispensa- 

 tion, drew thee hither to put an end to the difficulty," 



" Marry, and well falls it out that it did so," said the young thief of 

 the cock's feathers, winking on his neighbours, as Pezzali ceased — " for 

 after all, in spite of conscience — I doubt it must have come to dame 

 Griselda here to do the work else." 



" To turn the spit for you ? to scour it in your ribs, villains, if I knew 

 which of you would raise his hand to make me do it," exclaimed the lady, 

 rising from her position of labour, and throwing the last bird of half a 

 farm yard coarsely picked upon the ground. — " May not the cauldron 

 and a cullis serve you for to night, now you have maimed my son among 

 you in your drunken riots ?" 



" The cauldron might do well : but it is too small, mother," said a three- 

 fingered robber, more soothingly. " It were excellent an it were 

 rinsed out once a year ; but it is too little to serve so many." 



" A lesser will boil you into spermaceti, rogues — make atomies of 

 you," returned the virago, " after you are hanged. Come, fool !" she 

 added, addressing Sansovino — " Priest as thou be, these shall give thanks 

 for thy office, that scorn It — and in the air too — the stoutest of them — 

 before they die. See here ! A tithe goose I Ye have eaten many in your 

 time ! Dress one, and do penance for your gluttony — Come, I say, sit dowil." 



