An honest man is generally fearless and undaunted in presence of the wicked; nevertheless, the father, with the testimony of a good conscience and a firm conviction of the justice of his cause, with a mixture of horror and compassion for Don Roderick, felt a degree of embarrassment in approaching him. He was seated at table, surrounded by guests; on his right was Count Attilio, his colleague in libertinism, who had come from Milan to visit him. To the left was seated, with respectful submissiveness, tempered, however, with conscious security, the podestà of the place,—he whose duty it was, according to the proclamation, to cause justice to be done to Renzo Tramaglino, and to inflict the allotted penalty on Don Roderick. Nearly opposite to the podestà sat our learned Doctor Azzecca Garbugli, with his black cap and his red nose; and over against him two obscure guests, of whom our story says nothing beyond a general mention of their toad-eating qualities.
“Give a seat to the father,” said Don Roderick. A servant presented a chair, and the good father apologised for having come at so inopportune an hour. “I would speak with you alone on an affair of importance,” added he, in a low tone, to Don Roderick.
“Very well, father, it shall be so,” replied he; “but in the meanwhile bring the father something to drink.”
Father Christopher would have refused, but Don Roderick, raising his voice above the tumult of the table, cried, “No, by Bacchus, you shall not do me this wrong; a capuchin shall never leave this house without having tasted my wine, nor an insolent creditor without having tasted the wood of my forests.” These words produced a universal laugh, and interrupted for a moment the question which was hotly agitated between the guests. A servant brought the wine, of which Father Christopher partook, feeling the necessity of propitiating the host.
“The authority of Tasso is against you, respected Signor Podestà,” resumed aloud the Count Attilio: “this great man was well acquainted with the laws of knighthood, and he makes the messenger of Argantes, before carrying the defiance of the Christian knights, ask permission from the pious Bouillon.”
“But that,” replied vociferously the podestà, “that is poetical licence merely: an ambassador is in his nature inviolable, by the law of nations, jure gentium; and moreover, the ambassador, not having spoken in his own name, but merely presented the challenge in writing——”
“But when will you comprehend that this ambassador was a daring fool, who did not know the first——”
“With the good leave of our guests,” interrupted Don Roderick, who did not wish the argument to proceed farther, “we will refer it to the Father Christopher, and submit to his decision.”
“Agreed,” said Count Attilio, amused at submitting a question of knighthood to a capuchin; whilst the podestà muttered between his teeth, “Folly!”
“But, from what I have comprehended,” said the father, “it is a subject of which I have no knowledge.”