But have more mercy on our wit than vaunt
Your bargain as we burgesses who brag!
Why, Goodman Dullard, if a friend must speak.
Would the Count, think you, stoop to you and yours
Were there the value of one penny-piece
To rattle 'twixt his palms—or likelier laugh,
Bid your Pompilia help you black his shoe?"
Home again, shaking oft the puzzled pate,
Went Pietro to announce a change indeed,
Yet point Violante where some solace lay