P. Let Him conform Himself with me. I am poor as a dog, and tell Him so daily, and He, it may be, rejoices. Offering and prayer avail me not a whit: now He gives but straw without grain, and now neither grain nor straw, but only infinite oppression. Therefore, I would have this boy of mine enter the Church, not that he is especially inclined that way, but that he may live a life of greater ease. If you, padre, will teach him, all I have will be yours.
F.P. Yes, if he is so minded.
P. He has intelligence for anything, and a good singing voice.
F.P. Here, take this paper, and read those verses.
Sebastian. Is this for cummin or must I go for saffron?
F.P. You know nothing at all.
S. I know where the village shop is.
P. He is as sharp as a sword, there isn’t a goat in the herd that he doesn’t know.
F.P. Come now, without more ado, say the A B C D E.