“As usual, modest excuses from the father,” said Don Roderick; “but we will not accept them. Come, come, we know well that you came not into the world with a cowl on your head; you know something of its ways. Well, how stands the argument?”
“The facts are these,” said the Count Attilio——
“Let me tell, who am neutral, cousin,” resumed Don Roderick. “This is the story: a Spanish knight sent a challenge to a Milanese knight; the bearer, not finding him at home, presented it to his brother, who, having read it, struck the bearer many blows. The question is——”
“It was well done; he was perfectly right,” cried Count Attilio.
“There was no right about it,” exclaimed the podestà. “To beat an ambassador—a man whose person is sacred! Father, do you think this was an action becoming a knight?”
“Yes, sir; of a knight,” cried the count, “I think I know what belongs to a knight. Oh! if it had been an affair of fists, that would have been quite another thing, but a cudgel soils no one’s hands.”
“I am not speaking of this, Sir Count; I am speaking of the laws of knighthood. But tell me, I pray you, if the messengers that the ancient Romans sent to bear defiance to other nations, asked permission to deliver the message; find, if you can, a writer who relates that such messenger was ever cudgelled.”
“What have the ancient Romans to do with us? a people well enough in some things, but in others, far, far behind. But according to the laws of modern knighthood, I maintain that a messenger, who dared place in the hands of a knight a challenge without having previously asked permission, is a rash fool who deserves to be cudgelled.”
“But answer me this question——”
“No, no, no.”