The two friends were contemplating the pig in wondering silence, and Ristabilito made a curious noise by beating his palate with his tongue.
Ciavola asked:
“And what do you expect to do with it?”
“I expect to salt it,” answered La Brevetta, his voice full of gluttonous joy at the thought of the future delights of the palate.
“You expect to salt it?” cried Ristabilito. “You wish to salt it? Ciavola, have you ever seen a more foolish man than this one? To allow such an opportunity to escape!”
Stupefied, La Brevetta was looking with his calf-like eyes first at one and then at the other of his interlocutors.
“Donna Pelagia has always made you bow to her will,” pursued Ristabilito. “Now, when she is not here to see you, sell the pig and eat up the money.”
“But Pelagia?—Pelagia?——” stammered La Brevetta, in whose mind arose a vision of his wrathful wife which brought terror to his heart.
“You can tell her that the pig was stolen,” suggested the ever-ready Ciavola, with a quick gesture of impatience.
La Brevetta was horrified.