The bishop opened his mouth wide enough to swallow a Dutch cheese.

"How do you know that?" asked he.

"Ah!" said the cardinal, taking the good German's hand, "I have just
administered to him, and consoled him; at this moment the holy man has
a fair wind to waft him to paradise."

The Bishop of Coire demonstrated immediately how light fat man are;
for when men are big-bellied, a merciful providence, in the
consideration of their works, often makes their internal tubes as
elastic as balloons. The aforesaid bishop sprang backwards with one
bound, burst into a perspiration and coughed like a cow who finds
feathers mixed with her hay. Then becoming suddenly pale, he rushed
down the stairs without even bidding Madame adieu. When the door had
closed upon the bishop, and he was fairly in the street, the Cardinal
of Ragusa began laughing fit to split his sides.

"Ah! my fair one, am I not worthy to be Pope, and better than that,
thy lover this evening?"

But seeing Imperia thoughtful he approached her to take her in his
arms, and pet her after the usual fashion of cardinals, men who
embrace better than all others, even the soldiers, because they are
lazy, and do not spare their essential properties.

"Ha!" said she, drawing back, "you wish to cause my death, you
ecclesiastical idiot. The principal thing for you is to enjoy
yourself; my sweet carcass, a thing accessory. Your pleasure will be