CG THE TEMPLARS IX CYPRUS. [ACT II. PHILIP. Destroy,— To save !—'Tis well ! MOLAY (IWIO has heard FRANK'S speech with increasing emotion, and can no longer contain himself). My son,—son of my friend ! Thy father's but a croaker, and thon art A true Brienno !—Praise God for that I But go Dear lad, and lavo thyself at yonder spring, Then hio theo to tho castle, thero to lako Thy vow. Bo snro thou art forthcoming,—go ! [Exit FRAXK. Ho has a heart,—is worthy of our league, Thank God ! PHILIP. Why, my dear Molay !— MOLAY. Shame, old doubter !— Thcro spoke his manly heart ! And all his bells, With all their jingling, deadened not tho cry Of suffering innocence—Whereof I am glad ! PHILIP. I too. Ono jackal lives the less !—the youth Has instinct !— MOLAY. Let us not contend, but sharo All delectation of this lovely hour. PHILIP. Will you not then to dinner ?—It is time ! MOLAT. Erewhile I was o'erfull of bitter feelings ; Now revel I in sweet ones,—Thank the Giver ; Oh Brother ! could I dissipate, withal, Thy clouds !—