Did
you, a rich man's son, never try what the dice would do for you?"

"Yes, Sir Knight. It was at Venice, where I was pursuing my studies,
and tried my luck at gambling on many a merry evening with other sons of
mercantile families from Nuremberg, Augsburg, and Cologne."

"And your feathers were generously plucked?"

"By no means. I usually left a winner. But after they fleeced a dear
friend from Ulm, and he robbed his master, I dropped dice."

"And you did so as easily as if it were a short fast after an abundant
meal?"

"It was little more difficult," Wolff asserted. "My father would have
gladly seen me outdo my countrymen, and sent me more money than I
needed. Why should I deprive honest fellows who had less?"

"That's just the difficulty," cried his companion eagerly. "It was easy
for you to renounce games of chance because your winnings only added
more to the rest, and you did not wish to pluck poorer partners. But I!
A poor devil like me cannot maintain armour-bearer, servants, and steeds
out of what the dear little mother at home in her faithful care can
spare from crops and interest. How could we succeed in making a fair
appearance at court and in the tournament if it were not for the dice?
And then, when I lose, I again become but the poor knight the saints
made me; when I win, on the contrary, I am the great and wealthy lord I
would have been born had the Lord permitted me to choose my own cradle.
Besides, those who lose through me are mainly dukes, counts, and
gentlemen with rich fiefs and fat bourgs, whom losing doubtless
benefits, as bleeding relieves a sick man. What suits the soldier does
not befit the merchant. We live wholly amid risks and wagers. Every
battle, every skirmish is a game whose stake is life. Whoever reflects
long is sure to lose. If I could only describe, Herr Eysvogel, what it
is to dash headlong upon the foe!"

"I could imagine that vividly enough," Wolff eagerly interposed. "I,
too, have broken many a lance in the lists and shed blood enough."

"What a dunce I am!" cried Heinz in amazement, pressing his hand upon
his brow. "That's why your face was so familiar! By my saint! I am no
knight if I did not see you then, before the battle waxed hot. It
was close beside your Burgrave Frederick, who held aloft the imperial
banner."

"Probably," replied Wolff in a tone of assent. "He sometimes entrusted
the standard to me, when it grew too heavy for his powerful arm,
because I was t