“I would,” rejoined Ippolito, “I had as many sheep as there are stars.”
“And what,” asked Giulio, with a sarcastic smile, “would your wisdom do with them?”
“Marry,” replied Ippolito, “I would pasture them in your sageship’s fields.”
“What!” exclaimed Giulio, suddenly raising himself upon his elbow, and looking with an eye of fire upon his brother; “whether I would or not?”
“Truly, ay,” said Ippolito, with a stubborn significance of manner.
“Have a care,” cried Giulio, “have a care, Ippolito; do not thwart me. Am I not your elder brother?”
“Yes; and marry, what of that? Though you came first into the world, I trow you left some manhood for him who followed after.”
“You do not mean to insist that, despite my will, despite the determination of your elder brother, you will pasture your sheep in my grounds?”
“In truth but I do.”
“And that,” rejoined Giulio, his cheek flushing, and his lip tremulous, “and that without fee or recompense?”