One might, with equal success, have flung soft words at a mad bull.

Truly that "t"-- but I will speak of it no more, though I have a thrill of joy and mirth even now when I think of it.
After many explosions, the duke's pent-up wrath found vent, and began to subside.

Espying Max and me he called us to the throne.
"Have you concluded to join us in our little holiday excursion against these mountain swine ?" asked His Grace, addressing us.
"We have, my lord.

We shall be proud to serve under the banner of so brave a prince," I answered.
"'We have' would have been sufficient, Sir Karl," answered the duke, still surly from the dregs of his wrath.

"We hear so many soft words from France that we despise them in the mouths of honest men." The duke then turned to his seneschal, De Vergy, and spoke in tones that were heard all over the room:-- "My lord, Maximilian, Count of Hapsburg, and Sir Karl de Pitti have consented to join our banners.