“‘Oh, yes, I’ve plenty of stores!’ said the man addressed; ‘and that’s just why I don’t like to have loafing vagabonds about my place; so please to move on quicker than you came.’
“‘But I’m weary, my good man, and have come a long journey this day, and have nothing to eat: give me, now, but one sup of milk from your bountiful provision there.’
“‘Give!’ answered the man; ‘I’ve nothing to give away. I work hard for all I gain, and I don’t encourage those who don’t work.’
“‘But you won’t miss the little I ask—and I have travelled very far and am very weary,’ replied our Lord, condescending to speak very piteously, to see if He could not by any means move the man’s heart.
“‘Hola! you there! Domenico, Virgilio, Giacomo, Rocco, Pero! come along here, and throw this fellow out!’ shouted the proprietor.
“The men turned with their pitchforks, and drove the wayfarer rudely away, without pity, notwithstanding that His legs trembled with weariness and the way was so steep.
“Our Lord uttered not a word, and hasted on, that He might not increase their condemnation by resistance.
“But the heavens grew black with anger at the sight; the storm-clouds gathered in vengeance; grey and leaden, mass above mass, they thickened over the devoted peak of the Marmolata; the sun ceased to smile, and a horrible darkness fell around.
“Closer and closer lowered the clouds, till they fell, enveloping the mountain-top with white fields of snow.
“‘Nay!’ cried the Saviour, compassionately; ‘Father, stay Thine hand!’ And for a moment the convulsion of the angry element was stilled. ‘They knew not what they did,’ He pleaded; and He passed down the path to the next holding.