Daoud's fingers grasped a slice of the hot meat. He tore it in half, using both his clean right hand and his unclean left as a non-Muslim would.
He stuffed a slice of pork into his mouth. It had smelled good until he found out what it was. Now it seemed slimy and tasteless. His stomach clenched, but he held himself rigid, expressionless. He started to chew, and found that his mouth was dry. His life might depend on his giving a convincing imitation of pleasure. He chewed the meat to fragments and, as though savoring it, swallowed the abomination crumb by crumb.
He realized he was still holding the other scrap of pork in his left hand. To give himself a respite, he tossed it to the flagstone floor before Lorenzo's hound.
Unclean to the unclean, he thought.
Scipio looked at Daoud with an almost human look of surprise, then bent to devour the meat.
"Friday, Scipio," said Celino sharply. "You are forbidden meat."
The dog looked sadly up at Celino, licked its chops, and sat back on its haunches, leaving the meat untouched. In spite of his predicament, Daoud laughed.
"You see?" said Celino. "Even a dog can learn to obey the commandments."
Celino gestured to the dog. "All right, Scipio, the bishop of Palermo gives you a dispensation."
The dog stood and struck at the meat with his long muzzle. It vanished to the accompaniment of loud gulping sounds.