GOTTFRIED. Why, what do you menu ? RODKKT. For you, nought ; to myself I am defining why it is my sighs Aro not a sound from empty organ-pipes, And why I love ono swan well-limned more Than twenty living cuckoos.—Leave me in peace ! ClIARLOT. Original that thou art, and ever wert ! ROBERT. In souls awake to love, and thought, and yearning, A special ray of light, God-sent, is burning. A man who manifests this ray from God •Stands out distinguished from the common clod. CHARLOT. Alas ! the Grand-Commander ! COMMANDER HUGO (comes hobbling in). COMMANDER (to GOTTFRIED and CHARLOT). Now, now, now, God mend it! You do well, good lads, to while Poor Robert's time, your comrade. But now, go And court yonr pillows for a little space, For you must be in Chapter at midnight. [Exeunt GOTTFRIED and CHARLOT. COMMANDER (fatigued, sitting dou-n). Hast heard ?—wo go to-morrow morn to France ? ROBERT. I have. COMMANDER. Wilt thou not drink a little draught Of old wino of this country ?1 'Tis allowed,— 1 " The vines clothing the slope near Limasol produced the celebrated wine 'of the Commandory of the Temple.' The Knights, when they 124 THE TEMPLARS IX CYPRUS. [ACT IY.