No one would grudge him the short-lived happiness of these summer weeks; but although he believed himself to be as happy as a man can be, he appears to quietly contemplating eyes less happy and fortunate than when he stood alone on the deck of his ship, surrounded by an untrustworthy crew, prevailing by his own unaided efforts over the difficulties and dangers with which he was surrounded.

Court functions and processions, and the companionship of kings and cardinals, are indeed no suitable reward for the kind of work that he did.

Courtly dignities are suited to courtly services; but they are no suitable crown for rough labour and hardship at sea, or for the fulfilment of a man's self by lights within him; no suitable crown for any solitary labour whatsoever, which must always be its own and only reward.
It is to this period of splendour that the story of the egg, which is to some people the only familiar incident in Columbian biography, is attributed.

The story is that at a banquet given by the Cardinal-Arch bishop the conversation ran, as it always did in those days when he was present, on the subject of the Admiral's discoveries; and that one of the guests remarked that it was all very well for Columbus to have done what he did, but that in a country like Spain, where there were so many men learned in science and cosmography, and many able mariners besides, some one else would certainly have been found who would have done the same thing.

Whereupon Columbus, calling for an egg, laid a wager that none of the company but him self could make it stand on its end without support.
The egg was brought and passed round, and every one tried to make it stand on end, but without success.