Now having failed to catch the rogue, Messer Filippo was still
very wroth, and inly fumed and fretted, being unable to make out
aught from what the rogue had said save that Biondello was set on
by some one or another to flout him. And while thus he vexed his
spirit, up came Biondello; whom he no sooner espied than he made
for him, and dealt him a mighty blow in the face, and tore his hair
and coif, and cast his capuche on the ground,
[024]
and to his "Alas, Sir,
what means this?"
[025]
still beating him amain: "Traitor," cried he; "I
will give thee to know what it means to send me such a message.
'Colour the flask,' forsooth, and 'Catamites!' Dost take me for a
stripling, to be befooled by thee?"
[026]
And therewith he pummelled
Biondello's face all over with a pair of fists that were liker to iron
than aught else, until it was but a mass of bruises; he also tore and
dishevelled all his hair, tumbled him in the mud, rent all his clothes
upon his back, and that without allowing him breathing-space to ask
why he thus used him, or so much as utter a word. "Colour me
the flask!" and "Catamites!" rang in his ears;
[027]
but what the
words signified he knew not.
[028]
In the end very badly beaten, and in
very sorry and ragged trim, many folk having gathered around them,
they, albeit not without the utmost difficulty, rescued him from
Messer Filippo's hands, and told him why Messer Filippo had thus
used him, censuring him for sending him such a message, and adding
that thenceforth he would know Messer Filippo better, and that he was
not a man to be trifled with. [029]Biondello told them in tearful
exculpation that he had never sent for wine to Messer Filippo:
then, when they had put him in a little better trim, crestfallen and
woebegone, he went home imputing his misadventure to Ciacco.
[030]
And when, many days afterwards, the marks of his ill-usage being
gone from his face, he began to go abroad again, it chanced that
Ciacco met him, and with a laugh: "Biondello," quoth he, "how
didst thou relish Messer Filippo's wine?"
[031]
"Why, as to that,"
replied Biondello, "would thou hadst relished the lampreys of Messer
Corso as much!"
[032]
"So!" returned Ciacco, "such meat as thou then
gavest me, thou mayst henceforth give me, as often as thou art so
minded; and I will give thee even such drink as I have given thee."
[033]
So Biondello, witting that against Ciacco his might was not equal to
his spite, prayed God for his peace, and was careful never to flout
him again.
