“The lady composedly placed the draught on the table and smiled benevolently. There was something in that angelic smile which made the Signore feel as if he had been made game of. In a rage he rushed at the table, which reared up on its hind legs and showed fight with its forepaws, on which there were massy round iron balls, as on the other extremities. Truly it was a desperate battle, and both combatants covered themselves with dust and glory. Now the table would put a ball well in, and the Signore would counter, or, as I may say, cannon or cannon-ball it off; and then they would grapple and roll over and over till the Signora called them to time. At last the lord wrenched all the cannon-balls off from the table, which first, making a jump to the ceiling, came down in its usual position, while the balls began dancing on it like mad. “At such a sight all present roared with laughter, and it was observed that the lady, no longer pale, flushed with merriment like a rose. As for Signore Pietro he was red as a beet, and heaved out that he had been _canzonato_ or quizzed. “‘Truly yes,’ replied the lady; ‘but henceforth you shall have a name, for to do you justice you are as hard as iron, and Iron you shall be called—Big Iron Ferrone—and cannon-balls shall be your coat-of-arms, _in sæcula sæculorum_. By edict of the Queen of the Fairies!’ “Now at this all the love in the Signore Pietro concentrated itself in his heart, passed into his tongue, and caused him to burst forth in song in the following _ottava_, while the music accompanied: “‘Quando vedo le femmine rammone, Mi sento andare il cuore in convulsione, Hanno certe facette vispe e sane, Da fare entrare in sen la tentazione, Oh donnina! Non siate disumana! Di Pietro abbiate compassione! Scusante la modestia se l’e troppo Di questi personali non sene poppo.’ “‘When I behold thy all too lovely features, I feel my heart in soft convulsions heaving, Thou art the most entrancing of all creatures, I tell you so in sooth, without deceiving, In fact there is no beauty which can beat yours; And Pietro loves you, lady, past believing; In breasts like cannon-balls there’s naught to blame; But oh! I hope your heart’s not like the same!’ “But as this exquisite poem concluded with an immense sigh, there appeared before them a golden and pearl car, in which the fairy entered, and rising sailed away through a great hole in the ceiling, which opened before and closed behind her, Signore Pietro remaining _a bocca aperta_, gaping with opened jaws, till all was o’er. “‘Well!’ exclaimed the master, ‘she gave me the slip, but we have had a jolly evening of it, and I’m the first man who ever fought an iron table, and I’ve got a good idea. My name is now Feroni—the Big Iron Man—ladies and gentlemen, please remember, and cannon-balls are in my coat-of-arms!’” * * * * *