But, Richard, I
tell thee that Providence hath preserved me to lift me on high as
a light and beacon, whose ashes, when this earthly fuel is burnt
out, must yet be flung into Tophet. Withered and shrunk as this
poor form is, it is yet animated with two spirits--one active,
shrewd, and piercing, to advocate the cause of the Church of
Jerusalem; one mean, abject, and despairing, fluctuating between
madness and misery, to mourn over my own wretchedness, and to
guard holy relics on which it would be most sinful for me even to
cast my eye. Pity me not!--it is but sin to pity the loss of
such an abject; pity me not, but profit by my example. Thou
standest on the highest, and, therefore, on the most dangerous
pinnacle occupied by any Christian prince. Thou art proud of
heart, loose of life, bloody of hand. Put from thee the sins
which are to thee as daughters--though they be dear to the sinful
Adam, expel these adopted furies from thy breast--thy pride, thy
luxury, thy bloodthirstiness."
"He raves," said Richard, turning from the solitary to De Vaux,
as one who felt some pain from a sarcasm which yet he could not
resent; then turned him calmly, and somewhat scornfully, to the
anchoret, as he replied, "Thou hast found a fair bevy of
daughters, reverend father, to one who hath been but few months
married; but since I must put them from my roof, it were but like
a father to provide them with suitable matches.
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