provincial use of the word "despise," that is getting to be so common as
almost to supplant the true signification. By "despising," Ithuel meant
that he "hated"; the passion, perhaps, of all others, the most removed
from the feeling described by the word he had used, inasmuch as it is
not easy to elevate those for whom we have a contempt, to the level
necessary to be hated.

"Notwithstanding, the Inglese are not a despicable people," answered
Andrea, who was obliged to take the stranger literally, since he knew
nothing of his provincial use of terms; "for a nation of the north, they
have done marvellous things of late years, especially on the ocean."

This was more than Ithuel could bear. All his personal wrongs, and sooth
to say they had been of a most grievous nature, arose before his mind,
incited and inflamed by national dislike; and he broke out into such an
incoherent tirade of abuse, as completely set all Filippo's knowledge of
English at fault, rendering a translation impossible. By this time,
Ithuel had swallowed so much of the wine, a liquor which had far more
body than he supposed, that he was ripe for mischief, and it was only
his extreme violence that prevented him from betraying more than, just
at the moment, would have been prudent. The vice-governatore listened
with attention, in the hope of catching something useful; but it all
came to his ears a confused mass of incoherent vituperation, from which
he could extract nothing. The scene, consequently, soon became
unpleasant, and Andrea Barrofaldi took measures to put an end to it.
Watching a favorable occasion to speak, he put in a word, as the excited
Bolt paused an instant to take breath.

"Signore," observed the vice-governatore, "all this may be very true;
but as coming from one who serves the Inglese, to one who is the servant