"Oh! abundant Amicitia!" cried the fool to the Duke's Daughter, "thou art saved by so doing.

So get thee to thanksgiving and God's mercy." "Wherefore am I saved by being drawn from my meals by thy music, fool ?" she asked, linking her arm in Angele's.
"Because thou art more enamoured of lampreys than of man; and it is written that thou shalt love thy fellow man, and he that loveth not is lost: therefore thou art lost if thou lingerest at meals." "Is it so, then?
And this lady--what thinkest thou?
Must she also abstain and seek good company ?" "No, verily, Amicitia, for she is good company itself, and so she may sleep in the larder and have no fear." "And what think you--shall she be happy?
Shall she have gifts of fate ?" "Discriminately so, Amicitia.

She shall have souvenirs and no suspicions of Fate.

But she shall not linger here, for all lingerers in Delicio's Court are spied upon--not for their soul's good.

She shall go hence, and--" "Ay, princely lady, she shall go hence," interposed Lempriere, who had panted to speak, and could bear silence no longer.