"That is certainly not a very agreeable name."
"What matters it? Whoever is born in the territory of Milan, and would gain his living in that of Bergamo, must put up with it. As to the people here, they call a Milanese a simpleton as freely as they call a gentleman sir."
"They say so, I suppose, to those who will suffer it."
"My good fellow, if you are not disposed to submit to be called simpleton, till it becomes familiar to your taste, you must not expect to live in Bergamo. You would always be obliged to carry your knife in hand; and when you had killed three or four, you might be killed yourself, and have to appear before the bar of God with three or four murders to answer for?"
"And a Milanese who understands his trade?"
"It is all the same; he would still be a simpleton. Do you know how my master expresses himself when he talks of me to his friends? Heaven has sent me this simpleton to carry on my business. If it were not for this simpleton I should never get on. It is the custom."
"It is a silly custom, to say the least of it; and especially as it is we who have brought the art hither, and who carry it on. Is it possible that there is no remedy?"
"None. Time may accomplish it. The next generation may be different, but at present we must submit. And after all, what is it?"
"Why, if there is no other evil"
"Ah! now that you are convinced, all will be well. Let us go to my master. Be of good courage."
In fact, the promises of Bartolo were realised, and all was well. It was truly a kind Providence; for we shall see how little dependence Renzo could place on the treasure he had left at home,—the savings of his labour.
