that which we have for the work of a gold or silver smith, and not for that of the armourer. In some cases, it is true, there is some definite idea in the craftsman’s mind of a subject, as for example the parade suit of Christian II (Johanneum, Dresden, E, 7), in which the artist, who is generally considered to have been Heinrich Knopf, embossed scenes from the labours of Hercules on the horse-armour. As a rule, however, the ornamentation is merely fantastic and meaningless, and consists for the most part of arabesques, masks, and amorini based upon classical models of the worst period and style. For sheer incoherence of design, and at the same time for technique which could hardly be surpassed, we have no better example in any of the applied arts than the parade suit made for King Sebastian of Portugal by Anton Peffenhauser of Augsburg in the second half of the sixteenth century (Real Armeria, Madrid, A, 290). Here we have tritons, nereids, dolphins and sea-horses, combats of classical warriors, elephants, allegorical figures of Justice, Strength, and Victory, gods, goddesses, heroes, virtues, and symbolic figures spread broadcast among a wealth of arabesques and foliation which leaves the beholder breathless at the thought that this was simply produced for parade purposes, when but little of the detail could be seen and none of it could be adequately studied or admired. In fact the whole equipment may be described in a sentence originally used in far different circumstances: “C’est magnifique, mais ce n’est pas la guerre” (Plate XIV). [Illustration: FIG. 39. Brass of an unknown knight at Laughton, Lincs, 1400. 1. Vervelles. 2. Camail. 3. “Vif de l’harnois,” “défaut de la cuirasse.” 4. Baldrick. 5. Jupon. 6. Gadlings or gauntlets. 7. Bascinet. 8. Edge of hauberk.] Much of this embossed work was blackened or oxidized so that the full value of the relief-work could be appreciated. Gilding and gold inlay were also in high favour, but the latter art never reached the high pitch of excellence which we find in Oriental weapons, though the arrogant Cellini asserted that he could damascene swords as well as any Oriental craftsman, and better. That the art was not seriously attempted we gather from Cellini’s own words, for he says that it “differed from any he had as yet practised.”[92] In all this ostentatious riot of ornament we in England preserved a dignified reticence. It is true that the City of London commissioned Petit of Blois to make the cumbersome gilded and engraved suit for Charles I, but we have in our national collections no specimens of elaborately embossed parade armour which were made for kings, princes, or nobles in England.