ed Stephano to take the opportunity
of putting a good distance between us and the scene of our last
adventures; and, as we were eating our breakfast at Folligno, we saw
another waggon, quite empty, got a lift in it for a trifle, and thus rode
to Pisignano, where a devout person gave us a charitable welcome, and I
slept soundly through the night without the dread of being arrested.

Early the next day we reached Spoleti, where Brother Stephano had two
benefactors, and, careful not to give either of them a cause of jealousy,
he favoured both; we dined with the first, who entertained us like
princes, and we had supper and lodging in the house of the second, a
wealthy wine merchant, and the father of a large and delightful family.
He gave us a delicious supper, and everything would have gone on
pleasantly had not the friar, already excited by his good dinner, made
himself quite drunk. In that state, thinking to please his new host, he
began to abuse the other, greatly to my annoyance; he said the wine he
had given us to drink was adulterated, and that the man was a thief. I
gave him the lie to his face, and called him a scoundrel. The host and
his wife pacified me, saying that they were well acquainted with their
neighbour, and knew what to think of him; but the monk threw his napkin
at my face, and the host took him very quietly by the arm and put him to
bed in a room in which he locked him up. I slept in another room.

In the morning I rose early, and was considering whether it would not be
better to go alone, when the friar, who had slept himself sober, made his
appearance and told me that we ought for the future to live together like
good friends, and not give way to angry feelings; I followed my destiny
once more. We resumed our journey, and at Soma, the inn-keeper, a woman
of rare beauty, gave us a good dinner, and some excellent Cyprus wine
which the Venetian couriers exchanged with her against delicious truffles
found in the vicinity of Soma, which sold for a good price in Venice. I
did not leave the handsome inn-keeper without losing a part of my heart.

It would be difficult to draw a picture of the indignation which
overpowered me when, as we were about two miles from Terni, the infamous
friar shewed me a small bag full of truffles which the scoundrel had
stolen from the amiable woman by way of thanks for her generous
hospitality. The truffles were worth two sequins at least. In my
indignation I snatched the bag