“Ah, ah! my friend,” said he to the Bishop, “I congratulate myself on being in your company, and I am glad to have been able to get rid of that little wretch unworthy of Madame, the more so as if you had gone near him, my lovely and amiable creature, you would have perished miserably through the deed of a simple priest.”

“Ah!  How?”

“He is the secretary of the Archbishop of Bordeaux.  The good man was seized this morning with the pestilence.”

The bishop opened his mouth wide enough to swallow a Dutch cheese.

“How do you know that?” asked he.

“Ah!” said the cardinal, taking the good German’s hand, “I have just administered to him, and consoled him; at this moment the holy man has a fair wind to waft him to paradise.”

The Bishop of Coire demonstrated immediately how light fat man are; for when men are big-bellied, a merciful providence, in the consideration of their works, often makes their internal tubes as elastic as balloons.  The aforesaid bishop sprang backwards with one bound, burst into a perspiration and coughed like a cow who finds feathers mixed with her hay.  Then becoming suddenly pale, he rushed down the stairs without even bidding Madame adieu.  When the door had closed upon the bishop, and he was fairly in the street, the Cardinal of Ragusa began laughing fit to split his sides.

“Ah! my fair one, am I not worthy to be Pope, and better than that, thy lover this evening?”

But seeing Imperia thoughtful he approached her to take her in his arms, and pet her after the usual fashion of cardinals, men who embrace better than all others, even the soldiers, because they are lazy, and do not spare their essential properties.

“Ha!” said she, drawing back, “you wish to cause my death, you ecclesiastical idiot.  The principal thing for you is to enjoy yourself; my sweet carcass, a thing accessory.  Your pleasure will be my death, and then you’ll canonise me perhaps?  Ah, you have the plague, and you would give it to me.  Go somewhere else, you brainless priest.  Ah! touch me not,” said she, seeing him about to advance, “or I will stab you with this dagger.”

And the clever hussy drew from her armoire a little dagger, which she knew how to use with great skill when necessary.

“But my little paradise, my sweet one,” said the other, laughing, “don’t you see the trick?  Wasn’t it necessary to be get rid of that old bullock of Coire?”

“Well then, if you love me, show it” replied she.  “I desire that you leave me instantly.  If you are touched with the disease my death will not worry you.  I know you well enough to know at what price you will put a moment of pleasure at your last hour.  You would drown the earth.  Ah, ah! you have boasted of it when drunk.  I love only myself, my treasures, and my health.  Go, and if tomorrow your veins are not frozen by the disease, you can come again.  Today, I hate you, good cardinal,” said she, smiling.