Punch.
Wait, wait, mine dear friend; I have a beautiful suit of armor, magnificent! I saves it for you. I keeps it wrapped up. It is the suit of a grand knight-errant. [Takes covering from mounted suit of armor.]
Whetstone.
Ah, that’s something like the thing. The business we are on is a sort of a night errand. What line of business was he in? Did he travel much at night?
Punch.
Mine friend, you is mistaken. The knight-errant was a great man who went around foreign countries clad in a suit of mail, rescuing beautiful damsels, over seven hundred years ago.
Whetstone.
So long ago as that? His clothes must be a little rusty; but you can rub them well. You don’t say the suit is seven hundred years old?
Punch.
Over seven hundred years, mine friend [winking].