e feasts where he was a guest, as very notably in that case
where he made his wager with Monna Vittoria, he could, if need were, and
if occasion called for the use of his activities, shake off the stupor
of wine and the lethargy of gluttony and be ready for any business that
was fitted to the limitations of his intelligence and the strength of
his arms.

Such ways as Messer Simone's, however, were distasteful to the major
part of our Florentine gentry, who always cherished a certain decorum in
their bodily pleasures and admired a certain restraint at table, and
what they approved was naturally even more highly esteemed and commended
by Messer Folco Portinari, who was very fastidious in all his public
commerce with the world, and punctilious in the observance of the laws
and doctrines of good manners. How such a man could ever have consented
to consider Messer Simone for a single moment as a suitor for his
daughter passes my understanding. But Messer Simone was rich and
powerful and of a great house, and Messer Folco loved riches and power
and good birth as dearly as ever a woman loved jewels.

However that may be, our Maleotti got near to Simone, and after trying
unavailingly to catch the attention of his eye, made so bold as to come
hard by him and to pluck him by the sleeve of his doublet once or twice.
This failing to stir Messer Simone, who was thorough in his cups,
Maleotti spurred his resolve a pace further, and first whispered and
then shrieked a call into Messer Simone's ear. The whisper Messer Simone
passed unheeded, the shriek roused him. He turned in his seat with an
oath, and, gripping Maleotti by the shoulder, peered ferociously into
his face. Then, for all his drinking, being clear-headed enough to
recognize his henchman's countenance, he realized that the fellow might
have some immediate business with him, and, relaxing his grip, he asked
Maleotti none too affably what he wanted. Thereupon, Maleotti explained
that he needed some private speech with his master, and very anxiously
and urgently beckoned to him to quit the table and to come apart, the
which thing Messer Simone very unwillingly, and volubly cursing, did.

But when he had risen from the table and quitted the circle of the
revellers, and stood quite apart from curious ears, if any curious ears
there were, his manner changed as he listened to the hurried story that
Maleotti had to tell him. The news, as it filtered through his
wine-clogged brai