Giacomo," says he with a cackle, "is a little surprise for the Grand
Duke--a specimen, a rarity, a pretty thing. This is a Scythian youth,
deaf and dumb from his birth, but very taking, as you can see. 'Tis the
best thing I've picked up on my travels for many a year, and a fortune
to me. Why, if I can present this handsome lad to his Highness, you may
have me back upon you in my bishop's coach and six! And there will still
be men of my religion who will have got more for doing less, let me tell
you. You're never going to spoil an old friend's industry for the sake
of a dumb heathen!"

"Heathen!" cries the fellow. "Is he a heathen? Do you suppose you may
offer the Grand Duke a heathen? You'll have the Inquisition upon you, my
man, for certain sure, and the Cardinal Archbishop for once on their
side. Into the water with him before you touch Florence, or out with
your knife. Make a Christian or a Jew of him."

"Ay," says his colleague, handling me as if I had been an Odalisque,
"Ay, and the prince, between you and me, is near his time. His menagerie
may go to the dogs for all he cares, Jews and infidels, blacks and
whites and all. He sees little but the doctors and the priests in these
days."

"What! Has it come to that?" says the Capuchin, peering through what
seemed to be rheumy eyes. "If it have indeed, then may Heaven be his
friend, for he'll need one. Tut! so I've spent my ducats for nothing, it
seems." He shook his pretended convoy roughly by the shoulder. "Accursed
Scythian, that ever I set eyes upon thee! Forty ducats, signori, of hard
money to a Venice ship's-chandler who had him, I know, from a Tripoli
merchant for half the sum. And a hardy, healthy, tall, propagating rogue
he is, by the looks of him. Well, well, you may keep him for me. I am