The ass came in as politely as an ass could. He bowed down before the Emperor and kissed his hand.
“He has come to visit his dear brother,” remarked the enemy of Virgil.
“That is true,” replied the ass; and walking up to the gentleman, he stared him in the face, and said: “Good brother, good-day!”
The signore, bursting into a rage, tried to utter something, but only brayed—and such a bray, the King of the Asses himself could not have equalled it. There was a roar of laughter long and loud, revived again with each succeeding roar. At last, when there was silence, Virgil said:
“But tell me, Ciuchino, donkey mine, which of us three is the real ass? For thy brother there says that I am one, and thou callest him brother, and yet from thy appearance I should say that thou art truly ‘the one.’”
And the ass replied:
“Trust not to looks in this world, for in outward seeming there is great deceit. By their voice shall ye know them; by their song, which is the same in all lands. For many are the languages of mankind, but there is only one among asses, for we all bray and pray in the same tongue.”
“Truly,” replied Virgilio, “thou almost deservest to become a Christian, and I will help thee to it.” Saying this, he touched the donkey’s nose with his wand, and his face became as the face of the gentleman, on whom there now appeared a donkey’s head.
“Now we are indeed beginning to look more like ourselves,” quoth the ass.
“Aun-ky—aunky—aunky—ooooh!” brayed the gentleman.