In the course of the day he paid his respects to Signor Pietro
Baglioni, professor of medicine in the university, a physician of
eminent repute to whom Giovanni had brought a letter of
introduction. The professor was an elderly personage, apparently
of genial nature, and habits that might almost be called jovial.
He kept the young man to dinner, and made himself very agreeable
by the freedom and liveliness of his conversation, especially
when warmed by a flask or two of Tuscan wine. Giovanni,
conceiving that men of science, inhabitants of the same city,
must needs be on familiar terms with one another, took an
opportunity to mention the name of Dr. Rappaccini. But the
professor did not respond with so much cordiality as he had
anticipated.

"Ill would it become a teacher of the divine art of medicine,"
said Professor Pietro Baglioni, in answer to a question of
Giovanni, "to withhold due and well-considered praise of a
physician so eminently skilled as Rappaccini; but, on the other
hand, I should answer it but scantily to my conscience were I to
permit a worthy youth like yourself, Signor Giovanni, the son of
an ancient friend, to imbibe erroneous ideas respecting a man who
might hereafter chance to hold your life and death in his hands.
The truth is, our worshipful Dr. Rappaccini has as much science
as any member of the faculty--with perhaps one single
exception--in Padua, or all Italy; but there are certain grave
objections to his professional character."

"And what are they?" asked the young man.

"Has my friend Giovanni any disease of body or heart, that he is