has fed hell with them to its surfeit. And now, in her turn, her
grasping hands have withered at the wrists, her insatiable lips are
cracking upon her loosening teeth, and the mistress of the world is the
sport of Jews and usurers."

"You speak bitterly," said Gilbert, looking curiously at his new
acquaintance.

The monk sighed, and his eyes softened wonderfully as he turned to the
young man. He had been speaking in a tone that slowly rose to
shrillness, like a cry of bodily pain. When he spoke again his voice
was low and sweet.

"Bitterly, but for her sake, not for mine," he said. "If I have given
my life for her, she will not give me hers. Though I have laid at her
feet all that I had, she shall put nothing into my hand nor give me
anything but a ditch and a handful of earth for my bones, unless some
emperor or pope shall leave them upon a gallows. But I have asked of
her, for herself and her own sake, that she should do by herself
honourably, and draw her neck from the yoke and shake off the burdens
under which she has stumbled and fallen. I have asked of her to stand
upright again, to refuse to eat from the hand that has wounded her, and
not to hearken to the voice of violence and cursing. I have asked that
Rome should cast out the Stranger Emperor, and cast down the churchman
from the king's throne, and take from him the king's mask. I have asked
Rome to face her high robbers whom she calls barons, her corruption,
her secret weakness, as a brave man faces his sins and confesses them
and steadfastly purposes to offend God no more, All this I have asked,
and in part she has heard; and I have paid the price of my asking, for
I am an outcast of many kingdoms and a man excommunicated under the