the little old woman, exclaiming, “O you wicked creature! were it not for the sake of my own reputation, I would give you such a lesson that you should remember it to the latest day of your life!  A pretty story to come before decent people with!  Are you not ashamed of yourself to let such words come out of your mouth?” then seizing an iron bar that lay across the doorway, “Ill betide you, little wretch!” she cried, as she brandished it.  “If you ever come this way again, depend on it, you will never go back alive!” the trembling old trot, quickly bundling up her wares, scampered off, in dread of feeling that cruel weapon on her shoulders, nor did she think of stopping till she had reached the place where Bucciolo stood waiting her return.  Eagerly inquiring the news and how she succeeded, “O very badly—­very badly,” answered the crone.  “I was never in such a fright in all my life.  Why, she will neither see nor listen to you, and if I had not run away, I should have felt the weight of a great iron bar upon my shoulders.  For my own part, I shall go there no more; and I advise you, signor, to look to yourself how you proceed in such affairs in future.”

Poor Bucciolo became quite disconsolate, and returned in all haste to acquaint the professor with this unlucky result.  But the professor, not a whit cast down, consoled him, saying, “Do not despair; a tree is not levelled at a single stroke, you know.  I think you must have a repetition of your lesson to-night.  So go and walk before her door as usual; notice how she eyes you, and whether she appears angry or not, and then come back again to me.”  Bucciolo accordingly proceeded without delay to the lady’s house.  The moment she perceived him she called her maid and said to her, “Quick, quick—­hasten after the young man—­that is he, and tell him from me that he must come and speak with me this evening without fail—­without fail.”  The girl soon came up with Bucciolo and thus addressed him:  “My lady, signor, my lady, Giovanna, would be glad of your company this evening, she would be very glad to speak with you.”  Greatly surprised at this, Bucciolo replied, “Tell your lady I shall be most happy to wait upon her,” so saying, he set off once more to the professor, and reported the progress of the affair.  But this time the master looked a little more serious; for, from some trivial circumstances put together, he began to entertain suspicions that the lady was (as it really turned out) no other than his own wife.  So he rather anxiously inquired of Bucciolo whether he intended to accept the invitation.  “To be sure I do,” replied his pupil.  “Then,” said the professor, “promise that you will come here before you set off.”  “Certainly I will,” answered Bucciolo readily, and took his leave.