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 "Proud Templar," said the King, "thou canst not—look up and behold the Royal Standard of England floats over thy towers instead of thy Temple banner!—Be wise, Beaumanoir, and make no bootless opposition—Thy hand is in the lion's mouth."

"I will appeal to Rome against thee," said the Grand Master, "for usurpation on the immunities and privileges of our Order."

"Be it so," said the King; "but for thine own sake tax me not with usurpation now.—Dissolve thy Chapter, and depart with thy followers to thy next Preceptory, (if thou canst find one) which has not been made the scene of treasonable conspiracy against the King of England—Or, if thou wilt remain, to share our hospitality, and behold our justice."

"To be a guest in the house where I should command?" said the Templar; "Never.—Chaplains, raise the Psalm, Quare fremuerunt Gentes?—Knights, squires, and followers of the Holy Temple, prepare to follow the banner, of Beau-seant!"