The fisherman threw a wistful glance at the viands, for hunger was making powerful appeals to the weakness of nature, but his hand did not relinquish its hold of the line, with which he still continued to angle.
"And these are thy gifts, Jacopo?" he asked, in a voice that, spite of his resignation, betrayed the longings of appetite.
"Antonio, they are the offerings of one who respects thy courage and honors thy nature."
"Bought with his earnings?"
"Can it be otherwise? I am no beggar for the love of the saints, and few in Venice give unasked. Eat, then, without fear; seldom wilt thou be more welcome."
"Take them away, Jacopo, if thou lovest me. Do not tempt me beyond what I can bear."
"How! art thou commanded to a penance?" hastily exclaimed the other.
"Not so—not so. It is long since I have found leisure or heart for the confessional."
"Then why refuse the gift of a friend? Remember thy years and necessities."
"I cannot feed on the price of blood!"