world and the most fertile in amusing
contrivances, having earned his nickname of Buffalmacco for these very
qualities. And truly he knew some excellent turns, that have since
become legendary.

The three friends, having nothing now to keep them awake, fell asleep
under the moon, which looking in at the garret window, pointed the tip
of one of her horns, as if in mockery, at old Tafi. They slept sound
till daybreak, when the master began hammering on the partition, and
called out, coughing and spitting as usual.

"Get up, master Apollonius! Up with you, apprentices! Day's come;
Ph[oe]bus has blown out the sky candles! Quick's the word! 'Life is
short, and art long.'"

Then he began threatening Bruno and Buffalmacco he would come and start
them out with a bucket of cold water, jeering and asking them:

"Is your bed so delicious, eh? Have you got Helen of Troy there, you're
so loath to quit the sheets?"

Meanwhile he was slipping on his hose and his old, worn hood. This done,
he sallied out, to find the lads waiting on the landing, fully dressed
and with their tools all ready.

That morning, in the fair Church of San Giovanni, on the planking that
mounted to the cornice, the work went on merrily for a while. For the
last week the master had been trying his hardest to give a good
representation according to the recognized rules of art of the baptism
of Jesus Christ. He had just begun putting in the fishes swimming in the
Jordan. Apollonius was mixing the cement with bitumen and chopped straw,
pronouncing words of might known only to himself; while Bruno and
Buffalmacco were picking the little cubes of stone to be used, and Tafi
arranging them according to the sketch he had made on a slab of slate he
held in his hand. But just when the master was busiest over the job, the
three friends sprang lightly down the ladder and slipped out of the
Church. Bruno went off to the house of Calendrino, outside the walls, in
search of a pulley that was used for hoisting corn into the granary. At
the same time Apollonius hurried away to Ripoli to see an old lady, the
wife of a Judge, whom he had promised to provide with a philtre to draw
lovers to her side, and persuading her that hemp was indispensable for
compounding the potion, got her to hand him over the well-rope, a good
stout piece of cord.

The two friends next met at Tafi's house, where they found Buffalmacco
awaiting them. The latter at once set to work to attach the pul