k.]

The priest, seeing that she was not in the humour to do his pleasure
without a _salvum me fac_, whereas he would fain have done it _sine
custodia_, said, 'Harkye, thou believest not that I will bring thee
the money; but, so thou mayst credit me, I will leave thee this my
blue-cloth cloak.' Belcolore raised her eyes and said, 'Eh what! That
cloak? What is it worth?' 'Worth?' answered the priest. 'I would have
thee know that it is cloth of Douay, nay, Threeay, and there be some
of our folk here who hold it for Fouray.[369] It is scarce a fortnight
since it cost me seven crowns of hard money to Lotto the broker, and
according to what Buglietto telleth me (and thou knowest he is a judge
of this kind of cloth), I had it good five shillings overcheap.'
'Indeed!' quoth Belcolore. 'So God be mine aid, I had never thought
it. But give it me first of all.' My lord priest, who had his arbalest
ready cocked, pulled off the cloak and gave it her; and she, after she
had laid it up, said, 'Come, sir, let us go into the barn, for no one
ever cometh there.' And so they did. There the priest gave her the
heartiest busses in the world and making her sib to God Almighty,[370]
solaced himself with her a great while; after which he took leave of
her and returned to the parsonage in his cassock, as it were he came
from officiating at a wedding.

[Footnote 369: A play of words upon the Italian equivalent of the
French word Douay (_Duagio, i.e. Twoay, Treagio, Quattragio_) invented
by the roguish priest to impose upon the simple goodwife.]

[Footnote 370: Or in modern parlance, "making her a connection by
marriage of etc.," Boccaccio feigning priests to be members of the
Holy Family, by virtue of their office.]

There, bethinking himself that all the candle-ends he got by way of
offertory in all the year were not worth the half of five crowns,
himseemed he had done ill and repenting him of having left the cloak,
he fell to considering how he might have it again without cost. Being
shrewd enough in a small way, he soon hit upon a device and it
succeeded to his wish; for that on the morrow, it being a holiday, he
sent a neighbour's lad of his to Mistress Belcolore's house, with a
message praying her be pleased to lend him her stone mortar, for that
Binguccio dal Poggio and Nuto Buglietti were to dine with him that
morning and he had a mind to make sauce. She sent it to him and
towards dinner-time, the priest, having spied out when Bentiv