Bruno had such a mind to laugh, that he could scarce contain himself; but still he kept a grave countenance; and, when the Master had ended his song, and said:—­“How likes it thee?” he answered:—­“Verily, no lyre of straw could vie with you, so artargutically(4) you refine your strain.”  “I warrant thee,” returned the Master, “thou hadst never believed it, hadst thou not heard me.”  “Ay, indeed, sooth sayst thou,” quoth Bruno.  “And I have other songs to boot,” said the Master; “but enough of this at present.  Thou must know that I, such as thou seest me, am a gentleman’s son, albeit my father lived in the contado; and on my mother’s side I come of the Vallecchio family.  And as thou mayst have observed I have quite the finest library and wardrobe of all the physicians in Florence.  God’s faith!  I have a robe that cost, all told, close upon a hundred pounds in bagattines(5) more than ten years ago.  Wherefore I make most instant suit to thee that thou get me enrolled, which if thou do, God’s faith! be thou never so ill, thou shalt pay me not a stiver for my tendance of thee.”  Whereupon Bruno, repeating to himself, as he had done many a time before, that the doctor was a very numskull:—­“Master,” quoth he, “shew a little more light here, and have patience until I have put the finishing touches to the tails of these rats, and then I will answer you.”  So he finished the tails, and then, putting on an air as if he were not a little embarrassed by the request:—­“Master mine,” quoth he, “I should have great things to expect from you; that I know:  but yet what you ask of me, albeit to your great mind it seems but a little thing, is a weighty matter indeed for me; nor know I a soul in the world, to whom, though well able, I would grant such a request, save to you alone:  and this I say not for friendship’s sake alone, albeit I love you as I ought, but for that your discourse is so fraught with wisdom, that ’tis enough to make a beguine start out of her boots, much more, then, to incline me to change my purpose; and the more I have of your company, the wiser I repute you.  Whereto I may add, that, if for no other cause, I should still be well disposed towards you for the love I see you bear to that fair piece of flesh of which you spoke but now.  But this I must tell you:  ’tis not in my power to do as you would have me in this matter; but, though I cannot myself do the needful in your behalf, if you will pledge your faith, whole and solid as may be, to keep my secret, I will shew you how to go about it for yourself, and I make no doubt that, having this fine library and the other matters you spoke of a while ago, you will compass your end.”  Quoth then the Master:—­“Nay, but speak freely; I see thou dost yet scarce know me, and how well I can keep a secret.  There were few things that Messer Guasparruolo da Saliceto did, when he was Podesta of Forlinpopoli, that he did not confide to me, so safe he knew they would be in my keeping:  and wouldst thou be satisfied that I