"I've been to Italy, and have seen the Italian machinery for throwing silk, and shall carry back a pretty good idea of the process." "That man shall never carry anything back," whispered a vindictive-looking Italian, whose eyes glittered like fire.
"Hush! he is only an empty boaster." "We want no empty boasters.

We will not let him steal our trade secrets." That night, going home to his lodging, the Englishman was set upon by the Italian, and pricked with his stiletto, narrowly escaping with his life.

He gave him what he called "a good English black-eye," and bawled loudly for justice.

The Italian ran off, and was no more seen; and the Englishman, whose ugly name was Hogg, talked big about applying to his ambassador, Sir William Trumbull, but was induced to let the matter drop.

The ambassador shortly had worse things to complain of.
The next day was the Catholic Feast of St.Magdalen, which, though we Huguenots felt no manner of respect for, we were obliged to conform to outwardly, by not selling or working in open shops, till the services of the day were over.