as Messer Luigi Pulci says of his
Meridiana's, `_raggia come stella per sereno_.' Ah! here come some
clients of mine, and I shouldn't wonder if one of them could serve your
turn about that ring."

CHAPTER FOUR.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS.

"Good-day, Messer Domenico," said Nello to the foremost of the two
visitors who entered the shop, while he nodded silently to the other.
"You come as opportunely as cheese on macaroni. Ah! you are in haste--
wish to be shaved without delay--ecco! And this is a morning when every
one has grave matter on his mind. Florence orphaned--the very pivot of
Italy snatched away--heaven itself at a loss what to do next. _Oime_!
Well, well; the sun is nevertheless travelling on towards dinner-time
again; and, as I was saying, you come like cheese ready grated. For
this young stranger was wishing for an honourable trader who would
advance, him a sum on a certain ring of value, and if I had counted
every goldsmith and money-lender in Florence on my fingers, I couldn't
have found a better name than Menico Cennini. Besides, he hath other
ware in which you deal--Greek learning, and young eyes--a double
implement which you printers are always in need of."

The grave elderly man, son of that Bernardo Cennini, who, twenty years
before, having heard of the new process of printing carried on by
Germans, had cast his own types in Florence, remained necessarily in
lathered silence and passivity while Nello showered this talk in his
ears, but turned a slow sideway gaze on the stranger.

"This fine young man has unlimited Greek, Latin, or Italian at your
service," continued Nello, fond of interpreting by very ample
paraphrase. "He is as great a wonder of juvenile learning as Francesco
Filelfo or our own incomparable Poliziano. A second Guarino, too, for
he has had the misfortune to be shipwrecked, and has doubtless lost a
store of precious manuscripts that might have contributed some
correctness even to your correct editions, Domenico. Fortunately, he
has rescued a few gems of rare value. His name is--you said your name,
Messer, was--?"

"Tito Melema," said the stranger, slipping the ring from his finger, and
presenting it to Cennini, whom Nello, not less rapid with his razor than
with his tongue, had now released from the shaving-cloth.

Meanwhile the man who had entered the shop in company with the
goldsmith--a tall figure, about fifty, with a short trimmed beard,
wearing an old felt hat and