‘He never talks of loving our neighbour with all our heart, all our soul, and all our strength, although he often gives away the last loaf in the pantry.’
Boccaccio. It was she! Why did she say that? the slut!
Petrarca. ‘He doth well,’ replied the confessor. ‘Of the Church, of the brotherhood, that is, of me, what discourses holdeth he?’
I thought the question an indiscreet one; but confessors vary in their advances to the seat of truth.
She proceeded to answer:
‘He never said anything about the power of the Church to absolve us, if we should happen to go astray a little in good company, like your Reverence.’
Here, it is easy to perceive, is some slight ambiguity. Evidently she meant to say, by the seduction of ‘bad’ company, and to express that his Reverence had asserted his power of absolution; which is undeniable.
Boccaccio. I have my version.
Petrarca. What may yours be?
Boccaccio. Frate Biagio; broad as daylight; the whole frock round!