"Yea, you are a priest," yelled Marzio, "and what is to become of
paternal authority in a household where such fellows as you are
listening at the keyholes? Is a man to have no more rights? Are we to be
ruled by women and creatures in petticoats? Viper! Poisoning my
household, teaching my daughter to disobey me, my wife to despise me, my
paid workmen to--"

"Silence!" cried Gianbattista in ringing tones, and with the word he
sprang to his feet and clapped his hand on Marzio's mouth.

The effect was sudden and unexpected. Marzio was utterly taken by
surprise. It was incredible to him that any one should dare to forcibly
prevent him from indulging in the language he had used with impunity for
so many years. He leaned back pale and astonished, and momentarily dumb
with amazement. Gianbattista stood over him, his young cheeks flushed
with anger, and his broad fist clenched.

"If you dare to talk in that way to Don Paolo, I will kill you with my
hands!" he said, his voice sinking lower with concentrated
determination. "I have had enough of your foul talk. He is a better man
than you, as I told you last night, and I repeat it now--take care--"

Marzio made a movement as though he would rise, and at the same instant
Gianbattista seized the long, fine-pointed punch, which served for the
eyes of the cherubs--a dangerous weapon in a determined hand.

Don Paolo had risen from his chair, and was trying to push himself
between the two. But Gianbattista would not let him.