thus accosted by all three left no doubt in Calandrino's mind that he was
ill, and so:--"What shall I do?" quoth he, in a great fright. "My
advice," replied Bruno, "is that thou go home and get thee to bed and
cover thee well up, and send thy water to Master Simone, who, as thou
knowest, is such a friend of ours. He will tell thee at once what thou
must do; and we will come to see thee, and will do aught that may be
needful." And Nello then joining them, they all three went home with
Calandrino, who, now quite spent, went straight to his room, and said to
his wife:--"Come now, wrap me well up; I feel very ill." And so he laid
himself on the bed, and sent a maid with his water to Master Simone, who
had then his shop in the Mercato Vecchio, at the sign of the pumpkin.
Whereupon quoth Bruno to his comrades:--"You will stay here with him, and
I will go hear what the doctor has to say, and if need be, will bring him
hither." "Prithee, do so, my friend," quoth Calandrino, "and bring me
word how it is with me, for I feel as how I cannot say in my inside." So
Bruno hied him to Master Simone, and before the maid arrived with the
water, told him what was afoot. The Master, thus primed, inspected the
water, and then said to the maid:--"Go tell Calandrino to keep himself
very warm, and I will come at once, and let him know what is the matter
with him, and what he must do." With which message the maid was scarce
returned, when the Master and Bruno arrived, and the Master, having
seated himself beside Calandrino, felt his pulse, and by and by, in the
presence of his wife, said:--"Harkye, Calandrino, I speak to thee as a
friend, and I tell thee that what is amiss with thee is just that thou
art with child." Whereupon Calandrino cried out querulously:--"Woe's me!
'Tis thy doing, Tessa, for that thou must needs be uppermost: I told thee
plainly what would come of it," Whereat the lady, being not a little
modest, coloured from brow to neck, and with downcast eyes, withdrew from
the room, saying never a word by way of answer. Calandrino ran on in the
same plaintive strain:--"Alas! woe's me! What shall I do? How shall I be