Part 120 (1/2)

_The_ Templar _and_ Saladin.

TEMPLAR.

I am your prisoner, Sultan.

SALADIN.

You my prisoner!

Shall I refuse him liberty, whose life I freely spared?

TEMPLAR.

It is my duty, Sire, To hear, and not antic.i.p.ate, your will.

Yet it but ill becomes my character And station, Sultan, to be thus profuse Of grat.i.tude because you've spared my life-- A life which henceforth is at your command.

SALADIN.

Only forbear to use it to my hurt.

Not that I grudge my mortal enemy Another pair of hands; but such a heart As yours I do not yield him willingly.

You valiant youth! I have not gauged you ill: In soul and body, you are truly a.s.sad.

I fain would learn where you have been so long Concealed. In what dim cavern you have slept?

What spirit, in some region of the blest, Has kept this beauteous flower so fresh in bloom?

Methinks I could remind you of our sports In days gone by; and I could chide you, too, For having kept one secret from my ear, For having dared one gallant deed alone.

I'm happy that so much of this deceit At least is true, that in my sear of life An a.s.sad blooms for me once more. And you, You too are happy, Knight!

TEMPLAR.

Whate'er you will-- Whatever be your thought--lies as a wish Within mine inmost soul.

SALADIN.

We'll prove you, then.

Will you abide with me?--cling to my side, Whether as Christian or as Mussulman, In turban or white mantle? Choose your garb-- Choose for yourself. I never have desired That the same bark should grow on every tree.

TEMPLAR.

Else, Saladin, you never had become The hero that you are--who'd rather be The gardener of the Lord.

SALADIN.

If thus you think Of Saladin, we're half agreed, already----

TEMPLAR.

Nay, quite!

SALADIN (_offering his hand_).

One word!