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Mor. In very truth then, my Lord, according to my simple thoughts, he died even as the Prior has told you.

Ambass. Out upon thy hireling's tongue! art thou not ashamed, thyself wearing a soldier's garb, to blast, a soldier's fame? There is no earthly thing the brave Osterloo was ever known to fear.

Mor. You say true, my Lord; and on my sword's point I'll maintain it against any man as stoutly as yourself. But here is a pious Monk (pointing to Jerome) who will explain to you what I should speak of but lamely.

Jer. With the Prior's permission, my Lord, if you will retire with me a little while. I'll inform you of this mysterious event, even simply as it happened. And perhaps you will then confess, that, called upon suddenly, under circumstances impressing powerfully the imagination, to put off this mortal frame and stand forth in that tremendous presence, before which this globe, with all its mighty empires, hangs but as a crisped rain-drop, shivering on the threaded gossamer; the bravest mind may, if a guilty one, feel that within which is too powerful for human nature to sustain.

Ambass. Explain it as thou wilt; I shall listen to thee: but think not to cheat our Imperial Master of his revenge for the loss of his gallant General. I shall not fail, my Lord Prior, to report to him the meek spirit of your Christian authority, which has made the general weal of