At my age ... ah my dear brother, if you had seen what I have seen, or heard what I have heard, or suffered as I have, young as you are, and stout and powerful as you are, you would not speak as you do now, nor look as you do now....
Seen ... heard ... suffered. Have I not seen ... have I not suffered!... How little you know of me....
Here Matthew Paris, after securing the door with a multitude of bars and bolts of oak, led the way with a cautious and fearful step toward a little room, through the gaping crevices of which, a dim unsteady light, like the light of a neglected fire could be seen.
Death Sir ... death in every possible shape, I might say ... but who cares for death? ... peril which, whatever you may suppose Matthew, at your age—old as you are ... why—what am I to understand by your behaviour! ... you don’t hear a word I am saying to you.
There, there—not so loud I entreat you ... not so loud—there’s no knowing what may be near us.
Near us—are you mad?—what can be near us?
There again—there, there!
Stop—I go no further.
My dear friend—
Not another step—if you are crazy, I am not—I will be satisfied before I go any further. Were I to judge by what I now see and hear—did I not believe what you said a few moments ago; and were I not persuaded of your integrity, Matthew, I should believe my foes were on the look out for me, and that you had been employed to entrap me, as the strong man of old was entrapped for the Philistines, with a show of great love—