to
breakfast, and thinking that for that reason he might talk familiarly
with him, he expressed the amazement with which he regarded both him and
Buffalmacco, for that, being but poor men, they lived so lightheartedly,
and asked him to tell him how they managed. At which fresh proof of the
doctor's simplicity and fatuity Bruno was inclined to laugh; but,
bethinking him that 'twere best to answer him according to his folly, he
said:--"Master, there are not many persons to whom I would disclose our
manner of life, but, as you are my friend, and I know you will not let it
go further, I do not mind telling you. The fact is that my comrade and I
live not only as lightheartedly and jovially as you see, but much more
so; and yet neither our art, nor any property that we possess, yields us
enough to keep us in water: not that I would have you suppose that we go
a thieving: no, 'tis that we go the course, and thereby without the least
harm done to a soul we get all that we need, nay, all that we desire; and
thus it is that we live so lightheartedly as you see." Which explanation
the doctor believing none the less readily that he knew not what it
meant, was lost in wonder, and forthwith burned with a most vehement
desire to know what going the course might be, and was instant with Bruno
to expound it, assuring him that he would never tell a soul. "Alas!
Master," said Bruno, "what is this you ask of me? 'Tis a mighty great
secret you would have me impart to you: 'twould be enough to undo me, to
send me packing out of the world, nay, into the very jaws of Lucifer of
San Gallo,(2) if it came to be known. But such is the respect in which I
hold your quiditative pumpionship of Legnaia, and the trust I repose in
you, that I am not able to deny you aught you ask of me; and so I will
tell it you, on condition that you swear by the cross at Montesone that
you will keep your promise, and never repeat it to a soul."

The Master gave the required assurance. Whereupon:--"You are then to
know," quoth Bruno, "sweet my Master, that 'tis not long since there was
in this city a great master in necromancy, hight Michael Scott, for that
he was of Scotland, and great indeed was the honour in which he was held
by not a few gentlemen, most of whom are now dead; and when the time came
that he must needs depart from Florence, he at their instant entreaty
left behind him two pupils, adepts both, whom he bade hold themselves
ever ready to pleasure those ge