listening very attentively. He twirled the stem of the wine-cup in his
hand, crooning,

"'Fantoccini, fantoccino,--
Chi s'arrischia baldacchino,
Ognuno per se,
Diavolo per tutti.'"

Only long practice in self-control could have kept Giovanni from starting.
The rhyme was a common street-song which every lad in Milan, the city of
puppet-shows, would recognize, and not only did it refer to the puppets as
"fantoccini" instead of marionettes, but the significance of the last two
lines, "Each for himself and the fiend for all," was rather too pointed to
be pleasant. But he only bowed uncomprehendingly and awaited the further
comment of the singer with more interest than comfort.

"I have a mind to speak a word for your puppet-show," said the jester,
cradling his bauble in his arms. "The Emperor gives little thought to such
toys; nevertheless he may be graciously pleased to spend a few minutes in
that way to-night after supper. Follow me."

He strutted away, a small pompous figure in scarlet and orange, and
Giovanni noted the mingled deference and contempt with which he was
regarded by the crowd. No more trouble was experienced in getting the
donkey along the crowded streets. The fool's discordantly-clashing bells
opened a way everywhere. The porter at the castle gate grinned and flung a
jest at him, but admitted him and those who followed in his train, without
question.

A few steps farther on they were halted by a tall, thin, sour-looking man