Aym. I will not hear—speak’st thou of chivalry?
Rai. Yes! I have been upon thy native hills.
There’s a gray cliff juts proudly from their woods,
Crown’d with baronial towers—rememberest thou?
And there’s a chapel by the moaning sea—
Thou know’st it well—tall pines wave over it,
Darkening the heavy banners, and the tombs.
Is not the cross upon thy fathers’ tombs!—
Christian! what dost thou here?
Aym. (starting up indignantly.) Man! who art thou