The camp-marshal warmly seconded the proposition of his colonel.

Mansfeld, pleased with such enthusiasm among his officers, yielded to their wishes, which were, in truth, his own.

Six companies of the Italian Legion were in his encampment while the remainder were stationed, far away, upon the bridge, under command of his son, Count Charles.

Early in the morning, before the passage across the dyke had been closed the veteran condottiere, pricking his ears as he snuffed the battle from afar, had contrived to send a message to his son.
"Charles, my boy," were his words, "to-day we must either beat them or burst." Old Peter Ernest felt that the long-expected, long-deferred assault was to be made that morning in full force, and that it was necessary for the royalists, on both bridge and dyke, to hold their own.

Piccolomini now drew up three hundred of his Italians, picked veterans all, and led them in marching order to Mansfeld.