Wear this chain, furthermore, for my sake." And so saying, Prince
Adolf flung a precious chain of emeralds round the herald's neck. "An
invitation to battle was ever a welcome call to Adolf of Cleves."
So saying, and bidding his people take good care of Bleu Sanglier's
retinue, the Prince left the hall with his daughter. All were marvelling
at his dignity, courage, and generosity.
But, though affecting unconcern, the mind of Prince Adolf was far from
tranquil. He was no longer the stalwart knight who, in the reign of
Stanislaus Augustus, had, with his naked fist, beaten a lion to death
in three minutes; and alone had kept the postern of Peterwaradin for two
hours against seven hundred Turkish janissaries, who were assailing it.
Those deeds which had made the heir of Cleves famous were done thirty
years syne. A free liver since he had come into his principality, and of
a lazy turn, he had neglected the athletic exercises which had made him
in youth so famous a champion, and indolence had borne its usual
fruits. He tried his old battle-sword--that famous blade with which,
in Palestine, he had cut an elephant-driver in two pieces, and split
asunder the skull of the elephant which he rode. Adolf of Cleves could
scarcely now lift the weapon over his head. He tried his armor.
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