“Yes,” replied Sang, “I thank God, he is well; he is here upon the field.”
“Ha, ha!” returned the armourer, “Seer Pietro wid dee here? Ha, I glad to hear dat. I glad to see heem. San Lorenzo, he alvays moss good for me. Sempre, sempre mi fa molto bene. He do me more vell dan all de oder Cavalieri in de leest at Paris; he break more shield, more breast-plate, more helmet of knight, dan all de oder who did joust. Dite mi, Signor Mortimero, dos he vant anyding in my vay? I have moss good armour, all made of right good Milano metal—tutta fabricata nella fabrica mia—all made in my vat dee do call vorksop. Dere, guardate, see vat a preet show. Aha!” continued he, as he opened a door that led from the temporary workshop, where his assistant workmen were labouring at the forge, into an inner place, where there was a grand display of armour, and weapons of all sorts and sizes, ready for immediate use; “dou mayest see I can feet il Cavaliere Seer Pietro vid anyding dat he may vant in my vay.”
“Nay,” replied Sang, “I do opine that Sir Patrick lacketh nothing in thy way; he is right well supplied with all necessary gear at present.”
“Ah!” said the Italian, “I am verri sorri, verri sorri for dat. I glad to gif him armour for noding at all; he do cause me moss good vid the vicked blows he do give. Ha! it vas vonder to see heem. I do make armour to stand against the blows of de Diavolo heemself—ma, for Seer Pietro—no; he cut troo anyding. I verri glad to arm heem for noding—si, Signor Mortimero, for noding at all.”
“Eh! sayest thou so, Signor Martellino, my master?” exclaimed Sang, with a knowing look; “by the mass, but I am right glad to find thee so liberally disposed, yea, and all the more, too, that thou dost seem to have sike mountance of the very articles I do lack. By St. Baldrid, though Sir Patrick hath no need to put thy generosity to the preve in his own proper person, I shall do my best to pleasure thee, and shall strive so far to overcome my delicacy, and to yield me to thy volunde, as to coart myself to accept of a helmet and a complete suit of plate from thee on gift.”
“Eh, cospetto! no, no, no, Signor Mortimero, mio caro,” hastily replied the Italian starting back, and screwing up his mouth, and shrugging his shoulders; “eh, povero me, quello non poso fare—I not can do dat. Ma, dou not intend vat I do [[306]]mean. I not do mean dee; but I do mean il Signor Cavaliere Pietro Hepborne, il vostro padrone. It vas heem I do speak about.”
“Nay, I do comprehend thee perfectly,” answered Sang; “but as it is with my master’s money that I must pay for what I may buy from thee, I was in full thought that thou mightest have been filled with jovisaunce thus to discover a mode of showing thy gratitude and regard towards him, by haining his purse, and giving that gratis the which he must otherwise lay out for so largely.”
“Ha! Signor Mortimero caro,” said Andria, “ma non m’intendete ancora; dou not intend vat I do say yet. Il Signor Cavaliere Pietro Hepborne e voi sono du persone; ha! dou and dy master not von man. I do say (figurativamente) dat I moss glad to arm Seer Pietro, because he do vork moss mischief to de arms of de oder knights, so moss dat he more dan pay me by vat I sell to dem, for all vat I mote gif him. He do cut out good vork and good sell for me; ma voi siete vat you call an apprentiss in de joost. I give dee good armour! Ha, ha! it vould be all destroy in one leettel momento, and dou voud do leettel harm to dose dat mote be against dee. Ah-ha! dou voud destroy no von man’s armour but dine own. Ha! dou hast de good coraggio, and de stout leems; ma, per Baccho, dy skeel is not like dat of dy padrone, Seer Pietro.”
“Nay, as to that,” said Sang, laughing good-naturedly, “thou mayest be right enow, Signor Andria; yet meseemed that the stream of thy generosity did run best when thou didst ween that no one thirsted. But I am glad to see thee so well provided with good steel plate, from the which I must now supply myself, sith that thou wilt not be generous; and though they be dear, yet of a truth I do ken that thy goods are ever of the best.”
“Ah-ha! Signor Sang,” answered the Italian, with an air of triumph, “adesso avete ragione—dou art right; la mia armadura è fabricata d’acciajo stupendissimo de Milano—vat dou voud call de best steel of Milano. Dere is not no von as do work in vat dou call steel as do know his trade better; dere is no armajuolo is so good as mine broder and me. Bah! Giacomo dere dost make so moss noise vid his hammaire dat I not see myself speak. Come dis vay, Signor Mortimero, com dis vay—come into dis appartamento, and I make dee see all vat do make thee vonder.”