"A dash on the walls," said Conrad, "that is what we need, not this idleness and skirmishing. I long to grasp my sword and fly to my Lady Valentine's rescue—but the Prince——"
"Tell me not," said Vincenzo. "I know Mastino always counsels prudence, and I am weary of it."
"The Prince knows more of it than we, doubtless," admitted Conrad. "Nevertheless these parchments may wait while I have a game of chess with thee."
"May they, Count Conrad? And is chess thy notion truly?" said Mastino's voice without, and unannounced he entered the tent, followed by Tomaso's father, Giorgio Ligozzi.
He was from head to foot in armor.
His eyes fell on Vincenzo, and his face darkened.
"For shame, Vincenzo," he said, with scorn. "Thou art no longer a child, to indulge in these page's tricks, and much I marvel Count Conrad should allow thee such license."
Vincenzo rose sullenly.
"Leave us," continued Della Scala with angry eyes. "And learn from yonder soldiers to play the man, and wear a leathern jacket with more grace than a silken doublet. I am ashamed of thee, Vincenzo."