Vögeli had been winning steadily, and not wishing to take any more of his comrade’s money, he arose and left the tavern to attend to his duties as officer of the day. Meanwhile it had been getting very noisy in the wine shop. The good Burgundy dispensed by Giacomo, the host, was greatly enjoyed by the cuirassiers, and they applied themselves to it industriously. Here, too, dice were thrown and cards dealt, but with more caution than the officers displayed. At length the door opened and six English archers entered, who quietly took their places at a table and called for wine.
“What business have they here?” asked the cuirassiers of one another. “Giacomo, you are our sutler and shall serve no others.”
As the tavernkeeper paid no heed to this, however, but prepared to supply the wants of the newcomers, one of the esquires, a Lombard of graceful but almost boyish figure sprang up from a table. “Hark you, Giacomo!” he shouted, “if you dare to serve these English curs we will run you through and afterwards burn your shop over your head!”
This threat was approved by loud shouts and vigorous oaths from all sides.
“All honor to my countrymen!” said the Italian, deprecatingly, “but the English must also live; nor do they lack good gold.”
“Nay—they have far too much, the dogs, the slanderers!”
The archers meanwhile, scarcely comprehending the import of this discourse, sat waiting patiently for the liquor they had ordered.
“Ralph,” said one of them to his neighbor, “can you make out what that little devil yonder is saying?”
“Never a word,” was the reply. “I only know I have a precious thirst and am kept waiting too long for my wine.”
With some difficulty the host succeeded in making his way to the Englishmen’s table; but before he could set down the jugs two Lombards planted themselves before him and shouted threateningly: “The Devil take you, Giacomo! Give them nothing, or it shall be the worse for you, do you hear?”