THE FOOL ERRANT - World eBook Library - World Public Library

For his second day's campaign, when he set up as a dentist (in spectacles and a fine black beard), Fra Palamone chose me to
be arrayed in a loose punchinello suit of red cotton, covered with the signs of the zodiac in tinsel; for, said he, "Mystery is half
our battle won beforehand. Hermes Trismegistus himself had not been the philosopher he was if he had been understood, and
to this day Aristotle is undervalued, not for saying what he meant, but for saying it all." He gave me a peaked felt hat for my
head, and exhorted me to have no fears. "Tooth- drawing," he said, "is as easy as kissing any day. Reflect, Francis, upon this,
and let it be your comfort throughout the coming conflict, that there is no jaw-bone in the head of mortal man so strong as his
wrist. With your wrist and elbow you can knock a man down; but show me the jaw that will do so much. I will say nothing of
Samson, who is not in debate; moreover his weapon was borrowed and his enemies were God's enemies. Now, here is another
fact, full of encouragement for you. The stronger a man is in the jaw, the harder he will pull against your forceps. Pray, what
chance has a tooth the most rooted against your pull and the patient's? Not the faintest! Out it comes, and there is one poor
sufferer the less in Prato. Courage then; pull and pull again." I promised him that I would pull my stoutest, but curtly declined his
suggestion that I should try my hand upon Virginia's mouth, although she made no demur. Sooner should Prato swim in blood, I
said, than I lay violent hands upon my friend.
And in blood swam Prato that day, and Fra Palamone bathed in it eloquently. He called himself Conqueror of Pain, and piled
up his captures like the trophies of a Roman triumph. I can still hear the soul-congealing yell with which he hailed every new
token of his prowess, and still see the packed Piazza surge, as it was swept by it like corn in a breeze. "Woe unto you, heathen
masticator," he would cry, holding high the forceps and its victim, "Woe unto you when you meet Palamone, Tyrant of Pain!
Blessed be the pincers and the fork, which have gained the celestial paradise for Sant' Agnese, and the terrestrial for this worthy
man! I tell you, signori," he would say, looking round upon the gaping company, "I would rather be in this man's shoes than in
the Grand Duke's, or in those of my blood-brother in God, the Patriarch of Venice. Ha! he will break up larks' bones this night!
and where are the sheep's trotters to deny him entry? Where are the walnuts or the peach stones whose kernels are removed
from him? Ahi, signori! do you think, if Signor Dives had had so wholesome a mouth he would have left to Lazarus the bones?
Not he—but the pith of every one of them had gone to make him sleeker. Avanti, signori, avanti! Let the next in torment come
up." He had abundant custom, and seemed never to tire; but my turn came at last, introduced by a string of panegyric which
spoke of me as the Nerve-Acrobat, the Lodestone of Ivory, the Electrical Indian Boy, at whose touch teeth flew from their
sockets and tartar dissolved in smoke. Pale, but with resolution, I grasped the weapon which he handed me.
To my consternation and half-undoing, I saw in the chair the sinewy form and honest brown face of Ercole, the heroic lover. He
saluted me with a smile and wave of the hand. He was here to encourage me, he said. Every man must make a beginning, and
there was nothing like a friendly face. Very much unnerved, I asked him which tooth he proposed to lose. "Whichever you
prefer," he said. "I am here ready. Take this one for instance." He tapped a fine grinder in his lower jaw. I asked him did it pain
him?
"Why no," he said, "it doesn't in a manner ache; but it will give you some trouble, I believe, and I'm quite ready to oblige a friend
with whom I have shared confidences. Take your pleasure of my mouth by all means. I recommend this one as a twister."
Displaying here two rows of pearls, he tapped the biggest of them and awaited my attack.
"I would sooner starve than touch such beauty as this," I said.
"Please yourself," he replied, "but observe, by your refusal I lose three pauls. There's a matter of a wager between me and a
friend which shall let the most blood."
"Moreover, my young apprentice," said Fra Palamone with severity, "you shall understand that breaking your covenant with me
involves the breaking of my stick upon your back."
"Via!" says Ercole, "where is your nerve, master? Do you think I haven't time enough at San Benedetto to grow a fresh crop!"
A terrible struggle ensued, but Ercole won his wager with ease.
Public confidence being now thoroughly established in Fra Palamone's view, he opened his faro-bank on the last day of the fair,
with Virginia and me for decoys—to all appearance a young married couple from the sea-board, who were to play and win ten
51