y of England, who for
her superior loveliness deserves to be Queen of the universe--what
tenderness in her blue eye, what lustre in her tresses of dishevelled
gold! By the tomb of the Prophet, I scarce think that the houri who
shall present to me the diamond cup of immortality will deserve so warm
a caress!"

"Saracen," said Sir Kenneth sternly, "thou speakest of the wife of
Richard of England, of whom men think not and speak not as a woman to be
won, but as a Queen to be revered."

"I cry you mercy," said the Saracen. "I had forgotten your superstitious
veneration for the sex, which you consider rather fit to be wondered at
and worshipped than wooed and possessed. I warrant, since thou exactest
such profound respect to yonder tender piece of frailty, whose every
motion, step, and look bespeaks her very woman, less than absolute
adoration must not be yielded to her of the dark tresses and nobly
speaking eye. SHE indeed, I will allow, hath in her noble port and
majestic mien something at once pure and firm; yet even she, when
pressed by opportunity and a forward lover, would, I warrant thee, thank
him in her heart rather for treating her as a mortal than as a goddess."

"Respect the kinswoman of Coeur de Lion!" said Sir Kenneth, in a tone of
unrepressed anger.

"Respect her!" answered the Emir in scorn; "by the Caaba, and if I do,
it shall be rather as the bride of Saladin."

"The infidel Soldan is unworthy to salute even a spot that has been
pressed by the foot of Edith Plantagenet!" exclaimed the Christian,
springing from his couch.

"Ha! what said the Giaour?" exclaimed the Emir, laying his hand on his
poniard hilt, while his forehead glowed like glancing copper, and the
muscles of his lips and cheeks wrought till each curl of his beard
seemed to twist and screw itself, as if alive with instinctive wrath.
But the Scottish knight, who had stood the lion-anger of Richard, was
unappalled at the tigerlike mood of the chafed Saracen.

"What I have said," continued Sir Kenneth, with folded arms and
dauntless look, "I would, were my hands loose, maintain on foot or
horseback against all mortals; and would hold it not the most memorable
deed of my life to support it with my good broadsword against a score
of these sickles and bodkins," pointing at the curved sabre and small
poniard of the Emir.

The Saracen recovered his composure as the Christian spoke, so far as
to withdraw his hand from his weapon, as if the moti