good wine; but comparing his rank with that of Messer Geri, he deemed it unseemly to presume to invite him, and cast about how he might lead Messer Geri to invite himself.  So, wearing always the whitest of doublets and a spotless apron, that denoted rather the miller, than the baker, he let bring, every morning about the hour that he expected Messer Geri and the ambassadors to pass by his door, a spick-and-span bucket of fresh and cool spring water, and a small Bolognese flagon of his good white wine, and two beakers that shone like silver, so bright were they:  and there down he sat him, as they came by, and after hawking once or twice, fell a drinking his wine with such gusto that ’twould have raised a thirst in a corpse.  Which Messer Geri having observed on two successive mornings, said on the third:—­“What is’t, Cisti?  Is’t good?” Whereupon Cisti jumped up, and answered:—­“Ay, Sir, good it is; but in what degree I might by no means make you understand, unless you tasted it.”  Messer Geri, in whom either the heat of the weather, or unwonted fatigue, or, perchance, the gusto with which he had seen Cisti drink, had bred a thirst, turned to the ambassadors and said with a smile:—­“Gentlemen, ’twere well to test the quality of this worthy man’s wine:  it may be such that we shall not repent us.”  And so in a body they came up to where Cisti stood; who, having caused a goodly bench to be brought out of the bakehouse, bade them be seated, and to their servants, who were now coming forward to wash the beakers, said:—­“Stand back, comrades, and leave this office to me, for I know as well how to serve wine as to bake bread; and expect not to taste a drop yourselves.”  Which said, he washed four fine new beakers with his own hands, and having sent for a small flagon of his good wine, he heedfully filled the beakers, and presented them to Messer Geri and his companions; who deemed the wine the best that they had drunk for a great while.  So Messer Geri, having praised the wine not a little, came there to drink every morning with the ambassadors as long as they tarried with him.

Now when the ambassadors had received their conge, and were about to depart, Messer Geri gave a grand banquet, to which he bade some of the most honourable of the citizens, and also Cisti, who could by no means be induced to come.  However, Messer Geri bade one of his servants go fetch a flask of Cisti’s wine, and serve half a beaker thereof to each guest at the first course.  The servant, somewhat offended, perhaps, that he had not been suffered to taste any of the wine, took with him a large flask, which Cisti no sooner saw, than:—­“Son,” quoth he, “Messer Geri does not send thee to me”:  and often as the servant affirmed that he did, he could get no other answer:  wherewith he was fain at last to return to Messer Geri.  “Go, get thee back, said Messer Geri, and tell him that I do send thee to him, and if he answers thee so again, ask him, to whom then I send thee.”