"What hoarse tumult and revel used to be before this pavilion!
--nought but pitching the bar, hurling the ball, wrestling,
roaring of songs, clattering of wine pots, and quaffing of
flagons among these burly yeomen, as if they were holding some
country wake, with a Maypole in the midst of them instead of a
royal standard."
"Mastiffs are a faithful race," said Conrade; "and the King their
Master has won their love by being ready to wrestle, brawl, or
revel amongst the foremost of them, whenever the humour seized
him."
"He is totally compounded of humours," said the Grand Master.
"Marked you the pledge he gave us! instead of a prayer, over his
grace-cup yonder."
"He would have felt it a grace-cup, and a well-spiced one too,"
said the Marquis, "were Saladin like any other Turk that ever
wore turban, or turned him to Mecca at call of the muezzin. But
he affects faith, and honour, and generosity, as if it were for
an unbaptized dog like him to practise the virtuous bearing of a
Christian knight. It is said he hath applied to Richard to be
admitted within the pale of chivalry.
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