ung aside, as the splinters of
a broken lance are tossed out of the tilt-yard."
"There may be truth in what you say," said the Templar, darkly smiling.
"But what were our hopes should the allies withdraw their forces, and
leave Palestine in the grasp of Saladin?"
"Great and assured," replied Conrade. "The Soldan would give large
provinces to maintain at his behest a body of well-appointed Frankish
lances. In Egypt, in Persia, a hundred such auxiliaries, joined to his
own light cavalry, would turn the battle against the most fearful odds.
This dependence would be but for a time--perhaps during the life of
this enterprising Soldan; but in the East empires arise like mushrooms.
Suppose him dead, and us strengthened with a constant succession of
fiery and adventurous spirits from Europe, what might we not hope to
achieve, uncontrolled by these monarchs, whose dignity throws us at
present into the shade--and, were they to remain here, and succeed in
this expedition, would willingly consign us for ever to degradation and
dependence?"
"You say well, my Lord Marquis," said the Grand Master, "and your words
find an echo in my bosom. Yet must we be cautious--Philip of France is
wise as well as valiant."
"True, and will be therefore the more easily diverted from an expedition
to which, in a moment of enthusiasm, or urged by his nobles, he rashly
bound himself. He is jealous of King Richard, his natural enemy, and
longs to return to prosecute plans of ambition nearer to Paris than
Palestine. Any fair pretence will serve him for withdrawing from a scene
in which he is aware he is wasting the force of his kingdom."
"And the Duke of Austria?" said the Templar.
"Oh, touching the Duke," returned Conrade, "his self-conceit and folly
lead him to the same conclusions as do Philip's policy and wisdom. He
conceives himself, God help the while, ungratefully treated, because
men's mouths--even those of his own MINNE-SINGERS [The German minstrels
were so termed.]--are filled with the praises of King Richard, whom he
fears and hates, and in whose harm he would rejoice, like those unbred,
dastardly curs, who, if the foremost of the pack is hurt by the gripe of
the wolf, are much more likely to assail the sufferer from behind than
to come to his assistance. But wherefore tell I this to thee, save to
show that I am in sincerity in desiring that this league be broken up,
and the country freed of these great monarchs with their hosts? And
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