e
Genoese and in the Naples troubles. It fell out, moreover, that thirty
of his ships were taken by the Uscoque pirates or foundered at sea. The
Pope, to whom he had lent great sums of money, refused to repay a doit.
The result of all was, the magnificent Fabio Mutinelli was stripped bare
in brief space of all his riches. After selling his Palace and plate to
pay what he owed, he found himself left without anything. But clever,
bold, well practised in affairs and in the vigour of his powers, his
only thought was to make head once more against fortune. He made careful
calculation and judged that five hundred ducats were needful for him to
take the sea again and attempt fresh enterprises for which he augured
happy and sure success. He asked the Signor Alesso Bontura, who was the
richest citizen of the Republic, to oblige him by lending him the five
hundred ducats. But the good Bontura, holding that if daring wins great
gains, 'tis prudence only keeps the same, refused to expose so great a
sum to the risks of sea and shipwreck. Fabio next applied to the Signor
Andrea Morosini, whom he had benefited in former days in a thousand
ways.

"My dear Fabio," answered Andrea, "to any one else but you I would
willingly lend this sum. I have no affection for gold, and on this
point act according to the maxims of Horace the Satirist. But your
friendship is dear to me, Fabio Mutinelli, and I should be running the
risk of losing it, if I lent you money. For more often than not, the
commerce of the heart comes to a bad end betwixt debtor and creditor. I
have known but too many instances."

So saying, the Signor Andrea kissed the Merchant with all seeming
tenderness, and shut the door in his face.

Next day, Fabio went to see the Lombard and Florentine bankers. But not
one of them would agree to lend him so much as twenty ducats without
security. All day long he hurried from one counting-house to another,
but was everywhere met by much the same answer:

"Signor Fabio, we all know you well for the most upright merchant of
this city, and it is with regret we must refuse you what you ask. But
the morality of trade requires it."

That evening, as he was making sadly for home, the courtesan Zanetta,
who was bathing in the canal, hung on to his gondola and gazed amorously
into his eyes. In the days of his prosperity he had had her one night
into his Palace and had treated her very kindly, for he was of a gay and
gracious humour.

"Sweet