“Come to me, Luiz--come to me!” cried the duke, brandishing the carcass of the ortolan. “Why do you not come to me, good fat man? Will you see me sounced by the tongue of a jade? Deposed, says she! I babble foolishly! Come to me, Luiz, as thou art a good Christian man, and I will have her scourged.” There could never have been a more whimsical sight since the world set up in business than the distraction of the King of Castile’s ambassador, himself a man of bearing and nobility, standing in the midst of his astonished retinue, as he gazed from one to the other of those who addressed him. Yet it was presently borne in upon him by the outrageous speaking of the poor old duke, and the vacancy of his eyes, that all his politics, in whatever they might consist, were like to be over-ridden by the imperious will that had assumed the reins of governance. Therefore, after awhile, he adopted the only wise and possible course, which was to accept the little countess as the principal in this affair. And in spite of all that we, her counsellors, could do to impose some check upon her speech--for the Castilian had the name of being as proud a prince as there was on the earth--she refused to soften her words, and insisted that the envoy should bear them to his master. “And further, Don Jose de Fermosilla,” said she, “I would have you bid Castile, our cousin, assemble all his hosts and bring them hither, and they shall not lack for a welcome. They shall receive good play of sword and pike, halberd and musket, and every conceivable engine of belligerency. Are we mud, Don Jose de Fermosilla--are we mud, I say, myself and his lordship’s grace (myself having all the grace of his lordship since a little before noon this day)--are we mud, sirrah, that this Castilian speaks us unmannerly? By my sooth, Don Jose, this is a rude prince; but as there is a nerve in our right hand--do you mark me, sirrah?--upon a day his sauciness shall not go unvisited.” “O statecraft! O statecraft!” said the Count of Nullepart in a low voice and smiling softly. At these words of the Lady Sylvia, which had been uttered with every mark of disdain, the bearer of the cartel drew himself up with a proud mien, and said with much haughtiness on his own part,-- “Madam, as you are young and a woman, I would humbly propose, although it is no part of my province to propose it, that you weigh your words again in the scale before you publish them to the King’s majesty. It would be a pitiful matter if in the inclemency of his temper he harried his lordship’s dominion and razed both his castles to the earth. For I would have you to know, madam, that there is no prince in all Christendom to whom such words would come more amiss. He is so instant in his nature that on shorter terms than these he would put the whole of this garrison to the sword.”