"Are we in Geneva, or in Venice?
Under the skirts of the scarlet woman, or where the magistrates bear not the sword in vain?
Good Mr.Landlord, are these your professions?
Your bailmen should sleep ill to-night, for they are likely to answer roundly for this! And whom have we sparking it here?
Brawling and swearing and turning into a profligate's tavern a place that should be for the sober entertainment of travellers?
Whom have we here--eh! Let me see them! Ah!" He paused rather suddenly, as his eyes met Grio's: and a little of his dignity fell from him with the pause.

His manner underwent a subtle change from the judicial to the paternal.

When he resumed, he wagged his head tolerantly, and a modicum of sorrow mingled with his anger.

"Ah, Messer Grio! Messer Grio!" he said, "it is you, is it?
For shame! For shame! This is sad, this is lamentable! Some indulgence, it is true"-- he coughed--"may be due after late events, and to certain who have borne part in them.

But this goes too far! Too far by a long way!" "It was not I began it!" the bully muttered sullenly, a mixture of bravado and apology in his bearing.