“That I should lose my learned Hakim,” said Richard, “merely by absence of his cap and robe, and that I should find him again in my royal brother Saladin!”
“Such is oft the fashion of the world,” answered the Soldan; “the tattered robe makes not always the dervise.”
“And it was through thy intercession,” said Richard, “that yonder Knight of the Leopard was saved from death, and by thy artifice that he revisited my camp in disguise?”
“Even so,” replied Saladin. “I was physician enough to know that, unless the wounds of his bleeding honour were stanched, the days of his life must be few. His disguise was more easily penetrated than I had expected from the success of my own.”
“An accident,” said King Richard (probably alluding to the circumstance of his applying his lips to the wound of the supposed Nubian), “let me first know that his skin was artificially discoloured; and that hint once taken, detection became easy, for his form and person are not to be forgotten. I confidently expect that he will do battle on the morrow.”
“He is full in preparation, and high in hope,” said the Soldan. “I have furnished him with weapons and horse, thinking nobly of him from what I have seen under various disguises.”
“Knows he now,” said Richard, “to whom he lies under obligation?”
“He doth,” replied the Saracen. “I was obliged to confess my person when I unfolded my purpose.”
“And confessed he aught to you?” said the King of England.
“Nothing explicit,” replied the Soldan; “but from much that passed between us, I conceive his love is too highly placed to be happy in its issue.”