man of Ardennes was clad from head to foot in iron armor. Philip the Bold presented him with a gold chain for the deed, and the princess gave him a velvet slipper, which he wore on his helmet thenceforward.
On hearing this narrative all were greatly astonished, except Pan Mikolai, who said,—
"There are no such men in these effeminate days as during my youth, or men like those of whom my father told me. If a noble at present succeeds in tearing open a breastplate, or stretching a crossbow without a crank, or twisting an iron cutlass between sticks he is called a man of might and exalts himself above others. But formerly young girls used to do those things."
"I will not deny that formerly people were stronger," answered Povala, "but even to-day strong men may be found. The Lord Jesus was not sparing of strength in my bones, still I will not say that I am the strongest in the kingdom. Have you ever seen Zavisha of Garbov? He could overcome me."
"I have seen him. He has shoulders as broad as the bell of Cracow."
"And Dobko of Olesnitsa? Once he was at a tournament which the Knights of the Cross held in Torun; he stretched out twelve knights with great glory to himself and our nation."
"But our Mazovian, Stashko Tsolek was stronger than you, or Zavisha, or Dobko. It was said that he took a green stick in his hand and squeezed sap from it."
"I will squeeze sap from one too!" exclaimed Zbyshko. And before any one could ask him for a trial, he sprang to the roadside, broke off a good twig from a tree, and there, before the eyes of the princess and Danusia, he pressed it near one end with such force that the sap began really to fall in drops on the road.
"Ei!" cried Pani Ofka at sight of this, "do not go to war; it would be a pity for such a man to die before marriage."
"It would be a pity," repeated Matsko, growing gloomy on a sudden.
But Pan Mikolai began to laugh, and the princess joined him. Others, however, praised Zbyshko's strength aloud, and since in those times an iron hand was esteemed above all other qualities, the damsels cried to Danusia: "Be glad!" And she was glad, though she did not understand well what she could gain from that morsel of squeezed wood. Zbyshko,
