Little Novels of Italy

by Maurice Hewlett

"Stop your devil's ferment, Malabocca!" he thundered at the shepherd; "stop it, or I'll split your crown."

"Bacco trionfante,

Amante e spumante,

Evviva l'ubbriacchezza!"

roared Malabocca, screwing up his eye.

Stefano brought down a mug full of wine upon his pate, which gave him a red baptism.

"Mum, you blockhead, mum!" said his host "There is a stir outside the door I tell you!"

The shepherd grew sober in a moment.

There was a brief scramble in the room—then silence. The ladies' petticoats went farther than they were ever intended to go; Picagente rolled over and over till he reached cover under the table; the cards were hidden, all the players' heads buried in their elbows. Stefano blew out the light. Then they heard distinctly a fluttering knock at the door, timid but continuous.