took up her lamp and went to the door, where she found a mob collected, and busily engaged in persecuting a little hump-backed figure, who wore a red velvet cloak, fantastically decorated with gold.
"Does not the good woman Pancretia dwell here?" cried the little man, as soon as he saw the door opened.
"She does," said the old woman, admitting him, and slamming back the door in the faces of the mob, who were left to expend their taunts and threats on the empty air. "Who may you be, my noble sir?" continued she—"and what brings you to the hovel of a poor forlorn old woman?"
"Sit down," said the dwarf—"and let us have a little more light, that we may see what we are doing. And since you say that you are poor, take this piece of gold, and let us consolidate our acquaintance over a glass of good wine."
The hag looked pleased, lighted a couple of tapers, and replied—"You shall have a flask of Florentine wine, which is no poor drink, I promise you." She opened a small cupboard, and set a long-necked bottle on the table, pushing it across to her guest.
"Why did you call me noble?" asked the dwarf.
"Does not that gold piece speak volumes in favour of your nobility?" returned the old woman. "Besides, don't I see the fineness of your cloak, the feather in your hat, and so forth. Are you not a prince, or a duke at the least?"
"Neither the one nor the other," rejoined the little man. "What! my old aunt—donner and blitzen! don't you know me? Don't you know your own nephew, the little Berecynth of Milan? It is said we are very like one another."
"Gemini!" cried the old woman, quite delighted, "are you Berecynth of Milan, of whom I have heard so much! It does my old eyes good to see you here before me, face to face."
"Ay," replied Berecynth, "say, rather, nose to nose; for that, I fancy, is the only feature either of us have worth mentioning. For the sake of curiosity, dear aunt, let us try if we cannot accomplish a kiss between us. No—it won't do——we have already locked noses. If we would make it out, we must forcibly hold them to one side with both hands. There—that will do. Now good aunt, take care you don't let yours fly back suddenly. If you do, it will fetch me such a box on the ear that not a remaining tooth will be left in my head!"
The old woman laughed, and said, "I know not when I have been so happy. You are in a merry mood to night, nephew. But what were the people tormenting you about in the streets?"
"What about?" answered he. "About my appearance, to be sure: it affords them rare amusement. Now, is not man, my good nurse, an incomprehensibly stupid animal? Here are upwards of a hundred thousand souls collected together in Rome, within the last few months, for the purpose of doing honour to their Saviour, and of atoning for their own sins. Well, the moment I happen to put my head out of my window— (I only arrived here yesterday)— be it with only my nightcap on; or to show my whole person in the market-place, in my best attire, you would take your oath that all this myriad of people had come together from every quarter of Europe on my sole and particular account: —such peeping, and ogling, and shouting, and roaring, and laughing, does the appearance of your humble servant excite. I could make a fortune, Iam certain, if I were to show myself for payment. They pull out their purses to see an ape, an Indian, or a sea-cat; and yet the ungrateful blockheads, who can see me for nothing, raise a tumult, and overwhelm me with abuse whenever I appear."
"It is the same with me," sighed the old woman, "my case is just as bad. Why the very brute beasts are not so irrational. Each of them may have any sort of nose or eyes he pleases, and is yet allowed to pass peaceably on his way."
"Ay," continued Berecynth, "look at fishes, for example; what philosophic toleration is to be witnessed among them? And yet some of them are all nose together. Look down into the waters and you behold countenances cold and serious, and yet perfectly aware of their own and each other's originality. One, perhaps, but a mouth in his belly, and another eyes upon his back, and yet none of their fellow-fishes ever think of making sport of them on that account. Un-
