t precious things, against their
occasions, in the meanest places of their houses, as being the least
suspect, and thence bring them forth in their greatest needs, the mean
place having the while kept them more surely than would the goodly
chamber. And so, meseemeth, do the governors of the world hide
oftentimes their most precious things under the shadow of crafts and
conditions reputed most mean, to the end that, bringing them forth
therefrom in time of need, their lustre may show the brighter. Which
how Cisti the baker made manifest, though in but a trifling matter,
restoring to Messer Geri Spina (whom the story but now told of Madam
Oretta, who was his wife, hath recalled to my memory) the eyes of the
understanding, it pleaseth me to show you in a very short story.

I must tell you, then, that Pope Boniface, with whom Messer Geri
Spina was in very great favour, having despatched to Florence certain
of his gentlemen on an embassy concerning sundry important matters of
his, they lighted down at the house of Messer Geri and he treating the
pope's affairs in company with them, it chanced, whatever might have
been the occasion thereof, that he and they passed well nigh every
morning afoot before Santa Maria Ughi, where Cisti the baker had his
bakehouse and plied his craft in person. Now, albeit fortune had
appointed Cisti a humble enough condition, she had so far at the least
been kind to him therein that he was grown very rich and without ever
choosing to abandon it for any other, lived very splendidly, having,
amongst his other good things, the best wines, white and red, that
were to be found in Florence or in the neighbouring country. Seeing
Messer Geri and the pope's ambassadors pass every morning before his
door and the heat being great, he bethought himself that it were a
great courtesy to give them to drink of his good white wine; but,
having regard to his own condition and that of Messer Geri, he deemed
it not a seemly thing to presume to invite them, but determined to
bear himself on such wise as should lead Messer Geri to invite
himself.

Accordingly, having still on his body a very white doublet and an
apron fresh from the wash, which bespoke him rather a miller than a
baker, he let set before his door, every morning, towards the time
when he looked for Messer Geri and the ambassadors to pass, a new
tinned pail of fair water and a small pitcher of new Bolognese ware,
full of his good white wine, together wit