Fra Giovanni approached him, saying:
"Peace be with you!"
But the quarryman made no answer, and did not so much as turn his head. So Fra Giovanni, thinking he had not heard, repeated:
"Peace be with you!"—and then the same words again for the third time.
At last the quarryman looked up at him sullenly, and growled:
"I shall have no peace till I am dead. Begone, cursed black crow! you wish me peace; that shows you are a glozing cheat! Go to, and caw to simpler fools than I! I know very well the quarryman's lot is an utterly miserable one, and there is no comfort for his wretchedness. I hale out stones from dawn to dark, and for price of my toil, all I get is a scrap of black bread. Then when my arms are no longer as strong as the stones of the mountain, and my body is all worn out, I shall perish of hunger."
"Brother!" said the holy man Giovanni; "it is not just or right you should hale out so much stone, and win so little bread."
Then the quarryman rose to his feet and pointing,
"Master Monk," said he, "what see you up yonder on the hill?"
"Brother, I see the walls of the City."