“And is it not with men as with these dear animals?” said he, laughing; “When one satisfies them with food, they become silent, mild, and gentle. Princes should always remember that, and before all things satiate their subjects with food, if they would have a tranquil and unopposed government! Ah, that reminds me of our own poor, Lorenzo! Many petitions have been received, much misery has been described, and many heart-rending complaints have been made to me!”
“That is because they know you are always giving and would rather suffer want yourself than refuse gifts to others,” growled Lorenzo. “Hardly half the month is past, and we are already near the end of our means!”
“Already?” exclaimed the pope, with alarm. “And I believe I yet need much money. There is a father of fourteen children who has fallen from a scaffolding and broken both legs. We must care for him, Lorenzo; the children must not want for bread!”
“That is understood, that is Christian duty,” said Lorenzo, eagerly. “Give me the address, I will go to him yet to-day! And how much money shall I take with me?”
“Well, I thought,” timidly responded Ganganelli, “that five scudi would not be too much!”
Lorenzo compassionately shrugged his shoulders. “You can never learn the value of money,” said he; “I am now to take five scudi to these fourteen children.”
“Is it not enough?” joyfully asked Ganganelli. “Well, I thank God that you are so disposed! I only feared you would refuse me so much, because my treasury, as you say, is already empty. But if we have something left, give much, much more! At least a hundred scudi, Lorenzo!”
“That is always the way with you; from extreme to extreme!” grumbled Lorenzo. “First too little, then too much! I shall take to them twenty scudi, and that will be sufficient!”
“Give them thirty,” begged Ganganelli, “do you hear, thirty, brother Lorenzo. Thirty scudi is yet a very small sum!”
“Ah, what do you know about money?” answered Lorenzo, laughing; “these geese here understand the matter better than you, brother Clement.”