care which a mother bestows upon an impatient child.

"Thou art a rough nurse, though a willing one, De Vaux," said the
King, laughing with a bitter expression, while he submitted to
the strength which he was unable to resist; "methinks a coif
would become thy lowering features as well as a child's biggin
would beseem mine. We should be a babe and nurse to frighten
girls with."

"We have frightened men in our time, my liege," said De Vaux;
"and, I trust, may live to frighten them again. What is a fever-fit, that we should not endure it patiently, in
order to get rid
of it easily?"

"Fever-fit!" exclaimed Richard impetuously; "thou mayest think,
and justly, that it is a fever-fit with me; but what is it with
all the other Christian princes--with Philip of France, with that
dull Austrian, with him of Montserrat, with the Hospitallers,
with the Templars--what is it with all them? I will tell thee.
It is a cold palsy, a dead lethargy, a disease that deprives them
of speech and action, a canker that has eaten into the heart of
all that is noble, and chivalrous, and virtuous among them--that
has made them false to the noblest vow ever knights were sworn to
--has made them indifferent to their fame, and forgetful of their
God!"

"For the love of Heaven, my liege," said De Vaux, "take it less
violently--you will be heard without doors, where such speeches
are but too current already among the common soldiery, and
engender discord and contention in the Christian host. Bethink