Read Online Manly Wade Wellman - Novel 1940 by Twice In Time (v1.1) - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Twice In Time (v1.1)
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"Taunted and menaced, we Christians forget
our differences and draw together for our common safety. The Sultan dares not
attack us, we dare not quarrel among ourselves, and peace reigns." *
"Your Magnificence does not like war, then?" I
ventured.
He shook his ugly crag of a head. "Not a whit. It is
expensive."
"And vulgar," added Botticelli.
"Aye, and dangerous," chimed in the poet
Poliziano.
"And in defiance of heaven's will," sighed the
abbot, as though to crown the matter.
"And yet," Lorenzo resumed, "I bethink me
that it is well for a state to prepare for war, that others may fear, and be
content to keep peace. I have it in mind, Ser Leo, that you spoke yesterday of
war engines."
"I did," was my reply, but even as I spoke I was
aware how poorly my scrambled memory might serve me.
"For instance, I might design a gun that shoots many
times."
"Ha, some of Guaracco's witchcraft!" exclaimed
Lorenzo at once.
"Not in the least," I made haste to say.
"Nothing but honest science and mechanics, may it please Your Magnificence. "
In my mind the form and principle of machine-gunnery
became only half clear. I wished that I had mentioned something else.
* Lorenzo was later able to bring about this alliance, both
for peace among the Italian powers acid safety from the Moslem raiders.
BUT Lorenzo would not be dissuaded from knowing all about my
oft-shooting gun. He sent Poliziano for paper and pencils, anfl ordered me to
draw plans. I made shift in some fashion to do a picture of a guncarriage, with
wheels, a trail and a mounting of, not one barrel but a whole row, ten or more.
"It is nothing of particular brilliance," objected
the poet. "A rank of arquebusiers would serve as well."
"Aye, but if we have not overmany ranks of arequebusiers ? " countered Lorenzo, and gave me a most
generous smile. "A single man, I think, could serve and aim and fire this
row of guns. Ten such machines could offer a full hundred shot. Well aimed and
timely discharged, that hundred shot might decide a great battle."
Encouraged, I offered a variation of the idea, a larger
and wider gun emplacement with, not small barrels, but regular cannon placed in
a row and slightly slanted toward the center. These.'I suggested, could be so
trained as to center their fire on a single point. The bank of cannon, wheeled
into position and the fuses lighted in quick succession, could throw a shower
of heavy shot against a single small area upon a rampart or wall, battering it open.
"Right you are!" applauded Lorenzo. "It
would outshine the greatest battering-ram in all Christendom."
"It may be improved," I continued, "by
explosive shot in the cannon."
"Explosive shot?" Giuliano repeated in sharp
protest. "How, Ser Leo? Is not all shot solid?
Can lead and iron explode?"
"Yes, with powder and a fuse inside," I said at
once, though none too surely.
"Now nay," he argued. "What would prevent
such a shot from exploding in the very mouth of the cannon, belike splitting
its barrel and doing injury to our own soldiers?"
I had to shake my head, saying that I coulinot answer
definitely just then.
"Then answer another time," said Lorenzo kindly.
"In the meanwhile" —he picked up my two drawings—"these will go
to my armorers, for models to be made. Ser Leo can draw
us other things, as well."
"He draws notably," contributed Botticelli.
Evening had drawn on, lamps were lighted, and we had
supper in the garden, a richer and spicier meal than I care for. There was
plenty of wine, and all drank freely of it, not excepting the abbot. Finally
some fruits and ice-cooled sherbet were brought, and at this dessert we were
joined by five or six ladies.
Most beautiful and arresting among these was the famous
Simonetta Vespucci, the reigning toast of Florence .
She was no more than eighteen years old, as I judged, but mature in body and
manner, a tall, slenderly elegant lady, a little sloping in the shoulders but
otherwise beyond criticism in the perfection of her
our differences and draw together for our common safety. The Sultan dares not
attack us, we dare not quarrel among ourselves, and peace reigns." *
"Your Magnificence does not like war, then?" I
ventured.
He shook his ugly crag of a head. "Not a whit. It is
expensive."
"And vulgar," added Botticelli.
"Aye, and dangerous," chimed in the poet
Poliziano.
"And in defiance of heaven's will," sighed the
abbot, as though to crown the matter.
"And yet," Lorenzo resumed, "I bethink me
that it is well for a state to prepare for war, that others may fear, and be
content to keep peace. I have it in mind, Ser Leo, that you spoke yesterday of
war engines."
"I did," was my reply, but even as I spoke I was
aware how poorly my scrambled memory might serve me.
"For instance, I might design a gun that shoots many
times."
"Ha, some of Guaracco's witchcraft!" exclaimed
Lorenzo at once.
"Not in the least," I made haste to say.
"Nothing but honest science and mechanics, may it please Your Magnificence. "
In my mind the form and principle of machine-gunnery
became only half clear. I wished that I had mentioned something else.
* Lorenzo was later able to bring about this alliance, both
for peace among the Italian powers acid safety from the Moslem raiders.
BUT Lorenzo would not be dissuaded from knowing all about my
oft-shooting gun. He sent Poliziano for paper and pencils, anfl ordered me to
draw plans. I made shift in some fashion to do a picture of a guncarriage, with
wheels, a trail and a mounting of, not one barrel but a whole row, ten or more.
"It is nothing of particular brilliance," objected
the poet. "A rank of arquebusiers would serve as well."
"Aye, but if we have not overmany ranks of arequebusiers ? " countered Lorenzo, and gave me a most
generous smile. "A single man, I think, could serve and aim and fire this
row of guns. Ten such machines could offer a full hundred shot. Well aimed and
timely discharged, that hundred shot might decide a great battle."
Encouraged, I offered a variation of the idea, a larger
and wider gun emplacement with, not small barrels, but regular cannon placed in
a row and slightly slanted toward the center. These.'I suggested, could be so
trained as to center their fire on a single point. The bank of cannon, wheeled
into position and the fuses lighted in quick succession, could throw a shower
of heavy shot against a single small area upon a rampart or wall, battering it open.
"Right you are!" applauded Lorenzo. "It
would outshine the greatest battering-ram in all Christendom."
"It may be improved," I continued, "by
explosive shot in the cannon."
"Explosive shot?" Giuliano repeated in sharp
protest. "How, Ser Leo? Is not all shot solid?
Can lead and iron explode?"
"Yes, with powder and a fuse inside," I said at
once, though none too surely.
"Now nay," he argued. "What would prevent
such a shot from exploding in the very mouth of the cannon, belike splitting
its barrel and doing injury to our own soldiers?"
I had to shake my head, saying that I coulinot answer
definitely just then.
"Then answer another time," said Lorenzo kindly.
"In the meanwhile" —he picked up my two drawings—"these will go
to my armorers, for models to be made. Ser Leo can draw
us other things, as well."
"He draws notably," contributed Botticelli.
Evening had drawn on, lamps were lighted, and we had
supper in the garden, a richer and spicier meal than I care for. There was
plenty of wine, and all drank freely of it, not excepting the abbot. Finally
some fruits and ice-cooled sherbet were brought, and at this dessert we were
joined by five or six ladies.
Most beautiful and arresting among these was the famous
Simonetta Vespucci, the reigning toast of Florence .
She was no more than eighteen years old, as I judged, but mature in body and
manner, a tall, slenderly elegant lady, a little sloping in the shoulders but
otherwise beyond criticism in the perfection of her
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