Again there was an anchored ship, manned with a full crew and rigged
completely. "I hardly think," observes La Marche, "that the greatest
ship in the world has a greater number of ropes and sails."

Before the guests seated themselves they wandered around the hall
and inspected the decorations one by one. Nor was their admiration
exhausted when they turned to the discussion of the toothsome dainties
provided for their delectation.

During the progress of the banquet, the story of Jason was enacted.
Time there certainly was for the play. La Marche estimated forty-eight
dishes to every course, though he qualifies his statement by the
admission that his memory might be inexact. These dishes were wheeled
over the tables in little chariots before each person in turn.

"Such were the mundane marvels that graced the fête," is the
conclusion of La Marche's[6] exhaustive enumeration of the
masterpieces from artists' workshops and ducal kitchen.

"I will leave them now to record a pity moving _entremets_ which
seemed to be more special than the others. Through the portal
whence the previous actors had made their entrance, came a giant
larger without artifice than any I had ever seen, clad in a long
green silk robe, a turban on his head like a Saracen in Granada.
His left hand held a great, old-fashioned two-bladed axe, his
right hand led an elephant covered with silk. On its back was a
castle wherein sat a lady looking like a nun, wearing a mantle of
black cloth and a white head-dress like a recluse.[7]

"Once within the hall and in sight of the noble company, like one