"That is a long story," Francesco replied. "He, however, who suffered the most thereby, was least concerned in the cause!"—
The duke nodded, as if the matter were perfectly clear to him.
"You were promised special rewards and dispensations?"
Francesco's look of surprise informed the duke of the nature of the answer before he spoke.
"He who would sup with the Devil must needs have a long spoon!" the duke roared sententiously, and apparently well pleased with his own penetration.
They now travelled upon a more densely populated tract; they passed wayfarers and pilgrims; great folk on horseback with little folk licking their stirrup.
They passed an old crone at the roadside, eating her meagre meal out of a basket. Her fingers were like claws; her eyes were half-shut and she had wisps of hair on her chin. When she saw the twain, she scratched her chin with a talon and begged Francesco for a blessing, which the latter gave, while the duke shouted:
"Shave your chin, old fool! Shave your chin!"
Two hairy beggars, brandishing cudgels, emerged from the thicket.
No sooner did they lay eyes on the duke, than they bounded down the road and out of sight.