“Is this a place for brawling?” cried Dandolo in wrath, adding:  “Yet I cannot blame the Englishmen overmuch, seeing that they were sore affronted, as I saw with my eyes and heard with my ears.  Be silent, my lord of Cattrina.  After your fashion you make trouble at my Court.  And—­hearken all—­blood so hot had best be quickly cooled lest one or other of these knights should take a fever.  Moreover, the noble Cattrina has but to-day asked my leave to ride from Venice to-morrow, having urgent business at Avignon at the Court of Pope Clement.  So I decree that this combat a outrance shall take place in our presence on the Campo del Marte to-morrow, three hours before noon, ere the sun grows too hot.  To all the details of the combat our heralds will attend forthwith.  Officer, take soldiers and escort the Ambassador and the Champion of his Grace of England, together with this Captain of Archers, back to their own door.  Set guards there and see that none molest them by word or deed under pain of fine and strait imprisonment.  Sir Geoffrey Carleon, your requests are granted; be pleased to write it to the most puissant Edward, whom you serve, and for this time fare you well.  Why, what is it, Captain Ambrosio?” he added irritably, addressing a raw-boned, lantern-jawed giant of a man clad in the splendid uniform of the Guard who stepped before his throne and saluted.

“Most Illustrious,” said Ambrosio, in bad, guttural Italian, “my mother was a Swiss.”

“Then congratulations to the Swiss, Ambrosio, but what of it?”

“Very Illustrious,” replied the captain in his hollow voice, “the Swiss are brave and do not swallow insults.  That lad whom the Englishman kicked, or smote, or tossed like a bull,” and he pointed to the poor page, who, still senseless, was being carried from the hall, “is my youngest brother, who resembles our Venetian father somewhat more than I do.”

“We see it, we see it.  Indeed are you sure that the father was——­” and the Doge checked himself.  “The point, captain; we would dine.”

“Illustrious, I would avenge my brother and myself on the Englishman, whom I will beat to a jelly,” said the giant.  “I crave leave to fight him to-morrow when the lord Cattrina fights his master,” and advancing toward Grey Dick he made as though he would pull his nose.

“What is it he wants?” asked Grey Dick, staring up at the great fellow with a look in his eyes that caused Ambrosio to cease flourishing his fists.

The challenge was translated to him, and its reason.  “Oh,” said Dick, “tell him I am much obliged and that I will fight him with the bow or with the axe and dagger, or with all three.  Then we will see whether he beats me to a jelly, or whether I cut him into collops, who, as I think, needs shortening.”

Now the Captain Ambrosio consulted with his friends, who with much earnestness prayed him have nothing to do with arrows.  They pointed out that there his bulk would put him at a disadvantage, especially in dealing with an English archer who had an eye like a snake and a face like that of death itself.