had a lying tale to tell, and Maleotti's hand when it had a knife in
it and a man to be killed standing or lying near to its point.

This Maleotti wisely, from his point of view, made it his business not
merely to serve Messer Simone to the best of his ability in those things
in which Messer Simone directly demanded his obedience and intelligence,
but he also was quick to be of use to him in matters concerning which
Messer Simone was either ignorant or gave no direct instructions. It was
Maleotti's pleasure to mingle amid crowds and overhear talk, on the
chance of gleaning some knowledge which might be serviceable to his
patron, and, indeed, in this way it was said that he had heard not a few
things spoken heedlessly about Messer Simone which were duly carried to
Messer Simone's ears, and wrought their speakers much mischief. Also he
would, if he could find himself in company where his person and service
were unknown, in the wine-house or elsewhere, endeavor to engage those
about him in conversation which he would ever lead deftly to the subject
of his master and his master's purpose, and so win by a side wind, as it
were, a knowledge of Florentine opinion that more than once had been
valuable to Simone.

Now it had occurred to this fellow, since the beginning of the feud
between Simone dei Bardi and Dante dei Alighieri, that it would be to
his master's advantage, and to his own, if thereby he pleased his
master, that he should set himself to spy upon Messer Dante and keep him
as frequently as might be under his eye. It was thus that Messer Simone
came to know--what, indeed, was no secret--that our Dante had devoted
himself very busily to the practice of arms, and was making great
progress therein. But this information, as I learned afterward, did
little more than to tickle Messer Simone and make him grin, for he
believed that he was invincible in arms, and that no man could stand
against him, in which belief he was somewhat excused by his long record
of successes, and it seemed to him no more than a sorry joke that a lad
and a scholar like Dante should really pit his pigmy self against
Simone's giantship. It was no information of Maleotti's that told Simone
the truth about the unknown poet. That, as you know, he found out for
himself, and if he did but despise any skill that Dante might attain in
arms, he had the clumsy man's horror of the thing he could not
understand, of the art of weaving words together to praise fa