"Jesus, unless you stop your Blessed Mother this instant, the roof of my
house, which cost a fine penny, will most certainly be burst up. For I
see for sure I'm going slap through it. Stop! stop! I can hear the tiles
cracking."

Buffalmacco perceived that by now his master's voice was actually
strangling in his throat, and he ordered his companions to let go the
rope. This they did, the result being that the bed, tumbling suddenly
from roof to floor of the room, crashed down on the boards, breaking the
legs and splitting the panels; simultaneously the bedposts toppled over
and the canopy, curtains, hangings and all fell atop of Master Andrea,
who, thinking he was going to be smothered, started howling like a devil
incarnate. His very soul staggered under the shock, and he could not
tell whether he was fallen back again into his chamber or pitched
headlong into Hell.

At this point the three apprentices rushed in, as if just awakened by
the noise. Seeing the ruins of the bed lying smothered in clouds of
dust, they feigned intense surprise, and instead of going to the old
man's help, asked him if it was the Devil had done the mischief. But he
only sighed heavily, and said:

"It's all up with me; pull me out of this. I'm a dying man!"

At last they dragged him from among the débris, under which he was ready
to suffocate, and placed him sitting up with his back to the wall. He
breathed hard, coughed and spat, and:

"My lads," he said, "but for the timely succour of Our Lord Jesus