Another visit - A la Margutte - Clever man - Napoleons estimate - Another statue.
ONE evening Belle and myself received another visit from the man in black. After a little conversation of not much importance, I asked him whether he would not take some refreshment, assuring him that I was now in possession of some very excellent Hollands, which, with a glass, a jug of water, and a lump of sugar, was heartily at his service; he accepted my offer, and Belle going with a jug to the spring, from which she was in the habit of procuring water for tea, speedily returned with it full of the clear, delicious water of which I have already spoken. Having placed the jug by the side of the man in black, she brought him a glass and spoon, and a tea-cup, the latter containing various lumps of snowy-white sugar: in the meantime I had produced a bottle of the stronger liquid. The man in black helped himself to some water, and likewise to some Hollands, the proportion of water being about two-thirds; then adding a lump of sugar, he stirred the whole up, tasted it, and said that it was good.
This is one of the good things of life, he added, after a short pause.
What are the others? I demanded.
There is Malvoisia sack, said the man in black, and partridge, and beccafico.
And what do you say to high mass? said I.
High mass! said the man in black; however, he continued, after a pause, I will be frank with you; I came to be so; I may have heard high mass on a time, and said it too; but as for any predilection for it, I assure you I have no more than for a long High Church sermon.
You speak a la Margutte, said I.
Margutte! said the man in black, musingly, Margutte!
You have read Pulci, I suppose? said I.
Yes, yes, said the man in black, laughing; I remember.
He might be rendered into English, said I, something in this style:
I like the blue no better than the black,
My faith consists alone in savoury cheer,
In roasted capons, and in potent sack;
But above all, in famous gin and clear,
Which often lays the Briton on his back;
With lump of sugar, and with lymph from well,
I drink it, and defy the fiends of hell.
He! he! he! said the man in black; that is more than Mezzofante could have done for a stanza of Byron.
A clever man, said I.
Who? said the man in black.
Mezzofante di Bologna.
He! he! he! said the man in black; now I know that you are not a gypsy, at least a soothsayer; no soothsayer would have said that -
Why, said I, does he not understand five-and-twenty tongues?
Oh yes, said the man in black; and five-and-twenty added to them; but, he! he! he! it was principally from him, who is certainly the greatest of Philologists, that I formed my opinion of the sect.
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