12G THE TEMPLARS IX CYPRUS. [ACT IT. COMMANDER (with increasing embarrassment, which he vainly tries to hide). "Well, but—How think'st thou ?—Como with us to France ! ROBERT. You mock mo ! I am in the Church's ban. My destiny is, Expulsion from the Order, An endless dungeon.—Well,—'tis my desert ! COMMANDER. Yes, that's all wrong !—Hark, Robert!—(No, I can't!) Drink, then ! What, thou—thou whom we need so much, Of soldiers best,—thou, in this holo for life ?— ROBERT. Right well you know the Order's rule severe. COMMANDER. 'Tis true, God mend it!—Carping old man ! I— I,—now, thy health ! [Drinks from the flasl;, which ROBERT, after drinking, has replaced on the table; Jiis hesitation is constantly be-coming greater. I—spoke—too hastily— In truth. But thou, to be so heated too !— Fie, Robert, fie ! Why, what a fool wast thou ! ROBERT. I was—a man—whom you've so often taught To rate my honour higher than my life ! COMMANDER. Thou'rt right, dear, youth ! Yes, in good sooth, I have— Truly I have. {Half aside.) Come, out with it, old man ! Why shamo thee ? If so madly thou could'st act, Thou can'st but pay the forfeit ! (Aloud.) Like a fool I've borne me ! Robert—Robert—come, forgive !— (Believed, and saying the rest with more composure.) Thank God ! 'Tis out now—it oppressed me sore —