'Art humbled at last, monk, or monkey? How much for a nut?'
Leaping at the mad thought of some relenting in the voice and question,
the prisoner ran under the outstretched hand, and held up his own,
abjectly, fulsomely.
'Master, give it me--one--one only, to dull this living agony!'
'A sop to thee, then,' cried Galeazzo, and dropped a chestnut. The monk
caught it, and, cracking it between his teeth, roared out and fell
spitting and sputtering. He had crunched upon nothing more savoury than
a shell filled up with river slime. The Duke screamed and hopped with
laughter.
'Is not that richer than quail, more refreshing than Malmsey?'