“I kiss your hands, most illustrious: but I do not sit in an enemy's camp. Ha, my friend Zouch! How has your signoria fared since we fought side by side at Lepanto? So you too are here, sitting in council on the hanging of me.”
“What is your errand, sir? Time is short,” said the lord deputy.
“Corpo di Bacco! It has been long enough all the morning, for my rascals have kept me and my friend the Colonel Hercules (whom you know, doubtless) prisoners in our tents at the pike's point. My lord deputy, I have but a few words. I shall thank you to take every soldier in the fort—Italian, Spaniard, and Irish—and hang them up as high as Haman, for a set of mutinous cowards, with the arch-traitor San Josepho at their head.”
“I am obliged to you for your offer, sir, and shall deliberate presently as to whether I shall not accept it.”
“But as for us captains, really your excellency must consider that we are gentlemen born, and give us either buena querra, as the Spaniards say, or a fair chance for life; and so to my business.”
“Stay, sir. Answer this first. Have you or yours any commission to show either from the King of Spain or any other potentate?”
“Never a one but the cause of Heaven and our own swords. And with them, my lord, we are ready to meet any gentlemen of your camp, man to man, with our swords only, half-way between your leaguer and ours; and I doubt not that your lordship will see fair play. Will any gentleman accept so civil an offer? There sits a tall youth in that corner who would suit me very well. Will any fit my gallant comrades with half-an-hour's punto and stoccado?”
There was a silence, all looking at the lord deputy, whose eyes were kindling in a very ugly way.
“No answer? Then I must proceed to exhortation. So! Will that be sufficient?”
And walking composedly across the tent, the fearless ruffian quietly stooped down, and smote Amyas Leigh full in the face.