Ciavola said:
“You must stand in a row for this experiment. Now, one of you is to be singled out.”
When they were all thus formed in a line, he took up the flask of wine and one of the glasses, ready to pour it. Ristabilito placed himself at one end of the line, and began slowly to distribute the candy, which cracked under the strong teeth of the peasants and instantly disappeared. When he reached Mastro Peppe, he took out one of the canine candies, which had been marked, and handed it to him, without in any way arousing suspicion by his manner.
Mastro Peppe, who had been watching with wide open eyes to detect the thief, thrust the candy quickly in his mouth, with almost gluttonous eagerness, and began to chew it up. Suddenly his jaw bones rose through his cheeks towards his eyes, the corners of his mouth twisted upwards, and his temples wrinkled, the skin of his nose drew up, his chin became contorted, and all his features took on a comic and involuntary expression of horror, a visible shiver passed down his back, the bitterness of the aloes on his tongue was beyond endurance, his stomach revolted so that he was unable to swallow the dose, and the unhappy man was forced to spit it from his mouth.
“Oho, Mastro Peppe! What in the dickens are you doing?” cried out Tulespre dei Passeri, a greenish, hairy old goat-shepherd,—green as a swamp-turtle. Hearing his voice, Ristabilito turned around from his work of distributing the candies. Seeing La Brevetta’s contortions, he said in a benevolent voice:
“Well! Perhaps the candy I gave you is too sweet. Here is another one, try this, Peppe,” and with his two fingers, he tossed into Peppe’s open mouth the other canine pill.
The poor man took it, and feeling the sharp, malignant eyes of the goat-herder fixed upon him, he made a supreme effort to endure the bitterness. He neither bit nor swallowed it, but let it stay in his mouth, with his tongue pressed motionless against his teeth. But in the heat and dampness of his mouth, the aloes began to dissolve, and he could not long endure the taste; his mouth began to twist as before, his nose was filled with tears, the big drops ran down his cheeks, springing from his eyes like uncut pearls, and at last, he had to spit out the mouthful.
“Well, well, Mastro Peppe! What the dickens are you doing now?” again exclaimed the goat-herder, showing his white and toothless gums as he spoke. “Well, well! What does this mean?”
The peasants broke the lines, and crowded around La Brevetta, some jeering and laughing, others with wrathful words. Their pride had been hurt, and the ready brutality of the rustic people was aroused and the implacable austerity of their superstitious natures broke out in a sudden tempest of contumely and reproach.
“Why did you get us to come here to try to lay the blame of this thing on one of us? So this is the kind of sorcery you have gotten up? It was intended to fool us! And why? You calculated wrongly, you fool! you liar! you ill-bred fool! you rascal! You wanted to deceive us, you fool! you thief! you liar! You deserve to have every bone in your body broken, you scoundrel! you deceiver!”