"It is well," he said; "thou canst, go thy way."
"How now!" cried the Neapolitan, to whom buffoonery was a congenial
employment, as much by natural disposition as by practice; "How now!--have
we Balthazar at last, in this bloody-minded and fierce-looking traveller?"
As the speaker had expected, this sally was rewarded by a general laugh,
and he was accordingly encouraged to proceed. "Thou knowest our office,
friend," added the unfeeling mountebank, "and must show us thy hands. None
pass who bear the stain of blood!"
The traveller appeared staggered, for he was plainly a man of retired and
peaceable habits, who had been thrown, by the chances of the road, in
contact with one only too practised in this unfeeling species of wit. He
showed his open palm, however, with a direct and confiding simplicity,
that drew a shout of merriment from all the by-standers.
"This will not do; soap, and ashes, and the tears of victims, may have
washed out the marks of his work from Balthazar himself. The spots we seek
are on the soul, man, and we must look into that, ere thou art permitted
to make one in this goodly company.
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