‘Basta!’ interposed the old man, who, like other old people, was apt to forget the thread of his story if interrupted. ‘Basta! it doesn’t matter: they were anyhow three places very far apart.[10] So Pietro Bailliardo, who couldn’t get out of his habit of commanding the devils, called up a number of them, and said, “Which of all you fiends can go the fastest?” and the devils, accustomed to obey him, answered the one before the other, some one way some another, each anxious to content him: “I, like lightning,” said one; “I, like the wind,” said another; but “I—I can go as fast as thought,”[11] said another. “Ho! Here! You fiend. You, who can travel as fast as thought. You come here, and take me to-night to St. James of Compostella, and to the sanctuary of Cirollo, and bring me back here to the Chapel of the Holy Office before morning breaks.”
‘He spoke imperiously, and sprang on to the devil’s back, and all was done so quickly the devil had no time for thought or hesitation.
‘Away flew the devil, and Pietro Bailliardo on his back, all the way to St. James of Compostella, and, whr-r-r-r all the way to the sanctuary of Cirollo, fast, fast as thought. Then suddenly the devil stopped midway. An idea had struck him. “What had a devil to do with going about visiting shrines in this way; no harm had been done to the sacred place; not a stone had been injured;[12] why then had they gone to S. Giacomo; why were they going to Cirollo?”
‘“Tell me, Ser Bailliardo,” said he, “on whose account am I sweating like this? is it for your private account, or for my master’s; because I only obey you so long as you command in his name, and how can it serve him to be doing pilgrim’s work?”
‘“Go on, ugly monster! don’t prate,”[13] answered Pietro Bailliardo, and gave him at the same time a kick in each flank; and such was his empire over him that the devil durst say no more, and completed the strange pilgrimage even as he had commanded.[14]
‘Thus even in his penitence Pietro Bailliardo had the devils subject to him. But after that he did penance in right good earnest, only he chose a strange way of his own again.
‘He knelt before the Crucifix in the Chapel of the Inquisition, and he took a great stone and beat his breast with it and said, “Lord, behold my repentance; I smite my breast thus till Thou forgive me.” And when the blood flowed down the Lord had compassion on him and bowed His head upon the cross and said, “I have forgiven thee!”
‘After that he died in peace.’
[1] Unquestionably a very exaggerated tradition of the aberrations and final submission to the Church of Abelard (Pietro Abelardo in Italian), some of whose writings were publicly burnt in Rome by the Inquisition in 1140. [↑]