Boccaccio. Brave girl, for that!
Dog of a Frate! They are all of a kidney; all of a kennel. I would dilute their meal well and keep them low. They should not waddle and wallop in every hollow lane, nor loll out their watery tongues at every wash-pool in the parish. We shall hear, I trust, no more about Fra Biagio in the house while you are with us. Ah! were it then for life.
Petrarca. The man’s prudence may be reasonably doubted, but it were uncharitable to question his sincerity. Could a neighbour, a religious one in particular, be indifferent to the welfare of Boccaccio, or any belonging to him?
Boccaccio. I do not complain of his indifference. Indifferent! no, not he. He might as well be, though. My villetta here is my castle: it was my father’s; it was his father’s. Cowls did not hang to dry upon the same cord with caps in their podere; they shall not in mine. The girl is an honest girl, Francesco, though I say it. Neither she nor any other shall be befooled and bamboozled under my roof. Methinks Holy Church might contrive some improvement upon confession.
Petrarca. Hush! Giovanni! But, it being a matter of discipline, who knows but she might.
Boccaccio. Discipline! ay, ay, ay! faith and troth there are some who want it.
Petrarca. You really terrify me. These are sad surmises.
Boccaccio. Sad enough: but I am keeper of my handmaiden’s probity.
Petrarca. It could not be kept safer.
Boccaccio. I wonder what the Frate would be putting into her head?