or Naldino, do not forget to tell them to send me those thongs for my flails.”  “It shall be done,” quoth Bentivegna, and jogged on towards Florence, while the priest, thinking that now was his time to hie him to Belcolore and try his fortune, put his best leg forward, and stayed not till he was at the house, which entering, he said:—­“God be gracious to us!  Who is within?” Belcolore, who was up in the loft, made answer:—­“Welcome, Sir; but what dost thou, gadding about in the heat?” “Why, as I hope for God’s blessing,” quoth he, “I am just come to stay with thee a while, having met thy husband on his way to town.”  Whereupon down came Belcolore, took a seat, and began sifting cabbage-seed that her husband had lately threshed.  By and by the priest began:—­“So, Belcolore, wilt thou keep me ever a dying thus?” Whereat Belcolore tittered, and said:—­“Why, what is’t I do to you?” “Truly, nothing at all,” replied the priest:  “but thou sufferest me not to do to thee that which I had lief, and which God commands.”  “Now away with you!” returned Belcolore, “do priests do that sort of thing?” “Indeed we do,” quoth the priest, “and to better purpose than others:  why not?  I tell you our grinding is far better; and wouldst thou know why? ’tis because ’tis intermittent.  And in truth ’twill be well worth thy while to keep thine own counsel, and let me do it.”  “Worth my while!” ejaculated Belcolore.  “How may that be?  There is never a one of you but would overreach the very Devil.” “’Tis not for me to say,” returned the priest; “say but what thou wouldst have:  shall it be a pair of dainty shoes?  Or wouldst thou prefer a fillet?  Or perchance a gay riband?  What’s thy will?” “Marry, no lack have I,” quoth Belcolore, “of such things as these.  But, if you wish me so well, why do me not a service? and I would then be at your command.”  “Name but the service,” returned the priest, “and gladly will I do it.”  Quoth then Belcolore:—­“On Saturday I have to go to Florence to deliver some wool that I have spun, and to get my spinning-wheel put in order:  lend me but five pounds—­I know you have them—­and I will redeem my perse petticoat from the pawnshop, and also the girdle that I wear on saints’ days, and that I had when I was married—­you see that without them I cannot go to church or anywhere else, and then I will do just as you wish thenceforth and forever.”  Whereupon:—­“So God give me a good year,” quoth he, “as I have not the money with me:  but never fear that I will see that thou hast it before Saturday with all the pleasure in life.”  “Ay, ay,” rejoined Belcolore, “you all make great promises, but then you never keep them.  Think you to serve me as you served Biliuzza, whom you left in the lurch at last?  God’s faith, you do not so.  To think that she turned woman of the world just for that!  If you have not the money with you, why, go and get it.”  “Prithee,” returned the priest, “send me not home just now.  For, seest thou, ’tis the very nick of time