"But, from what I have heard, he was fortunate, long ago, to
earn the esteem of the good lady your mother, and"--he paused and
felt for his snuff-box--"it would appear that the trick runs in the
family."
"By God, then, if I may not kill him, I may at least improve on my
sister's treatment," swore the young man. "Made him her
swine-keeper, did she? I will promote him a step. Here, you!
Take and truss him by the heels!--and fetch me a chain, one of you,
from the forage-shed. . . ."
In the short time it took him to devise my punishment the Prince
displayed a devilishly ingenious turn of mind. Within ten minutes
under his careful directions they had me down flat on my back in the
filth of the sty, with my neck securely chained to a post of the
palisade, my legs outstretched, and either ankle strapped to a peg.
My hands they left free, to supply me (as the Prince explained) with
food and drink: that is to say, to reach for the loaf and the
pannikin of water which Marc'antonio, under orders, fetched from the
hut and laid beside me. Marc'antonio's punishment (for bearing
witness to the truth) was to be my gaoler and sty-keeper in my room.
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