CHAP. I.]

ST. JOHN OF JERUSALEM.

Ill

But who ever heard of a Moslem’s being bribed?Thanking Him from whom all strength comes, Ifling you back your offers, and reject and scornthem. What are your princes ? Roaring lions inpeace, or at board, or a-bed, but timid as deer in war.Shame to Latins! greater shame to Palestine!Are not its spotted hybrid Christians full of whatis most base, and worse than brutal, prodigious,secret, disgusting vices and meanness? Bright eyeswill be wet for my death; but she will have taughtour son, the lotus-eyed David, to avenge it.Hearken to her all your days, 0 my dearest boy,and recollect I send my last blessing and kiss toyou both. If there be any spark of feeling in anyone of you, you will let them know these my dyingwords. I surely die while it is sweet living.Blasphemers, I defy, despise, spit on you. For Iwish to die, being tired of enduring the same airwith you; your smell corrupts it; the foul breath ofyour hypocrisy poisons me; it disgusts and sickensme! To me you are the filthiest of mangy curs,the most swinish of the grovelling swine. Yes,yes, yes, a blessed martyr am I! The honest,happy St. Alban’s curse be on you all.” And ashe left the saloon, the grand master said in aplacid and solemn tone, “ At least, we have doneour duty; so, Sir Hugh de Burin, see that the

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