Part 2 / Act 1 — SCENE I.—Before the gates of a city in Palestine.

Urb. (to a Citizen on the walls above.) You see their lances glistening? You can tell The way they take? Cit. Not yet. Their march is slow; They have not reach’d the jutting cliff, where first The mountain path divides. Urb. And now? Cit. The wood Shuts o’er their track. Now spears are flashing out— It is the banner of De Chatillon. (Very slow and mournful military music without.) This way! they come this way! Urb. All holy saints Grant that they pass us not! Those martial sounds Have a strange tone of sadness! Hark, they swell Proudly, yet full of sorrow. Rainier de Chatillon enters with knights, soldiers, &c. Welcome, knights! Ye bring us timely aid! men’s hearts were full Of doubt and terror. Brave De Chatillon! True soldier of the Cross! I welcome thee; I greet thee with all blessing! Where thou art There is deliverance! Rai. (bending to receive the Priest’s blessing.) Holy man, I come From a lost battle. Urb. And thou bring’st the heart Whose spirit yields not to defeat. Rai. I bring My father’s bier. Urb. His bier! I marvel not To see your brow thus darken’d! And he died, As he had lived, in arms? Rai. (gloomily.) Not, not in arms— His war-cry had been silenced. Have ye place Amidst your ancient knightly sepulchres For a warrior with his sword? He bade me bear His dust to slumber here. Urb. And it shall sleep Beside our noblest, while we yet can call One holy place our own! Heard you, my lord, That the fierce Kaled’s host is on its march Against our city? Rai. (with sudden exultation.) That were joy to know! That were proud joy!—Who told it?—there’s a weight That must be heaved from off my troubled heart By the strong tide of battle! Kaled!—ay, A gallant name! How heard you? Urb. Nay, it seem’d As if a breeze first bore the rumour in. I know not how it rose; but now it comes Like fearful truth, and we were sad, thus left Hopeless of aid or counsel—till we saw—— Rai. (hastily.) You have my brother here? Urb. (with embarrassment.) We have; but he—— Rai. But he—but he!—Aymer de Chatillon! The fiery knight—the very soul o’ the field— Rushing on danger with the joyous step Of a hunter o’er the hills!—is that a tone Wherewith to speak of him? I heard a tale— If it be true—nay, tell me! Urb. He is here: Ask him to tell thee. Rai. If that tale be true—— (He turns suddenly to his companions.) —Follow me, give the noble dead his rites, And we will have our day of vengeance yet, Soldiers and friends! [Exeunt omnes.