He stopped short. Leonardo gazed at the wide, irregular, obstinate face, impressed with a single, senseless, all-absorbing idea.
'Messere,' he added, more quietly, 'be so kind as to say plainly, are we going to fly, or are we not?'
Leonardo had not the heart to tell him the naked truth.
'We cannot be quite certain till we have made the experiment,' he replied; 'but I think we shall fly.'
'That is enough; I ask no more,' said the mechanic, clapping his hands. 'If you say we shall fly, then the thing is done.'
He presently burst into a great laugh.
'What the devil amuses you?' asked Leonardo.
'Ah, forgive me, Master! I am always disturbing you. But when I fall a-thinking of the poor folk of Milan, and of the French soldiers, and Il Moro, and the king, I have to laugh because I feel so sorry for them. Poor little creeping worms, poor little jumping grasshoppers! Always on the same plot of earth to which they are chained by their feet, they fight and they bite each other, and they think they are doing some very great thing! How they will stare and gape when they see men alive and flying. I misdoubt that they will believe their eyes. "These be two gods," they will say. Astro, a god! I doubt the whole world will be changed. I doubt wars and laws will be done with, and masters and slaves. We cannot conceive how it will be! Soaring up to heaven like the choirs of angels, all the people will shout Hosanna! O Messer Leonardo, Messer Leonardo! is it true that verily thus it will be?'
He spoke wildly, like one in delirium.
'Poor fool!' thought Leonardo; 'what blind faith! What is to be done? How can I tell him the truth? He will go crazed!'