“Not a doubt of it,” replied Gananciosa; “and he would weep now to see the state he has put you into:  for men like him have scarcely committed the fault before repentance begins.  You will see, sister, if he does not come here to look for you before we leave the place; and see if he does not beg you to forgive what has passed, and behave to you as meek and as humble as a lamb.”

“By my faith,” observed Monipodio, “the cowardly ruffian shall not enter these doors until he has made full reparation for the offence he has committed.  How dare he lay a hand on poor Cariharta, who for cleanliness and industry is a match for Gananciosa herself, and that is saying everything.”

“Alas!  Senor Monipodio,” replied Juliana, “please do not speak too severely of the miserable fellow; for, hard as he is, I cannot but love him as I do the very folds of my heart; and the words spoken in his behalf by my friend Gananciosa have restored the soul to my body.  Of a truth, if I consulted only my own wishes, I should go this moment and look for him.”

“No, no,” replied Gananciosa, “you shall not do so by my counsel; for to do that would make him proud; he would think too much of himself, and would make experiments upon you as on a dead body.  Keep quiet, sister, and in a short time you will see him here repentant, as I have said; and if not, we will write verses on him that shall make him roar with rage.”

“Let us write by all means,” returned Juliana, “for I have a thousand things to say to him.”

“And I will be your secretary, if need be,” rejoined Monipodio, “for although I am no poet, yet a man has but to tuck up the sleeves of his shirt, set well to work, and he may turn off a couple of thousand verses in the snapping of a pair of scissors.  Besides, if the rhymes should not come so readily as one might wish, I have a friend close by, a barber, who is a great poet, and will trim up the ends of the verses at an hour’s notice.  At present, however, let us go finish our repast; all the rest can be done afterwards.”

Juliana was not unwilling to obey her superior, so they all fell to again at the O-be-joyful with so much goodwill that they soon saw the bottom of the basket and the dregs of the great leather bottle.  The old ones drank sine fine, the younger men to their hearts’ content, and the ladies till they could drink no more.  When all was consumed, the two old men begged permission to take their leave, which Monipodio allowed them to do, but charged them to return punctually, for the purpose of reporting all they should see or hear that could be useful to the brotherhood; they assured him they would by no means fail in their duty, and then departed.