And now strong men were kneeling and groaning, "No more!"—were stretching out their arms to heaven, and moaning, "Mercy! mercy!" and here one man and there another was crying out that he had committed some direful deed, calling on all around to pray God with him for pardon. But Urban kept on.
"Be of good cheer, sweet children; your sins are great, but greater is the mercy of God. For I stand before you clothed with power from on high. Mine are the keys of heaven and earth and hell. And I say to you, despite your sins, you are forgiven. Shed no bootless tears; for deeds, not tears, to-day avail. The heritage of the Lord is wasted; the Queen of cities groans in chains—who, who will spring to her release?
"Warriors who own the name of Christ, you I address,—you, who have slain wickedly in unholy war, rejoice! A holy war awaits! You who have sped fellow-Christians to death, rejoice! God will give you to trample down the alien! Draw forth the sword of the Maccabees, and go forward. To him who lives, God will give the spoils of the heathen for an inheritance; him who dies, Christ Jesus will confess before his Father. Draw forth the sword, Christians of France! Draw forth, and let it flush red in the unbelievers' blood! For this is the Lord's doing, and he who enters upon it, casting out all hate for his brother from his heart, and with the love of Christ strong within, is purged of all sin, be it however great, and his name is written in the book of life!"—A mighty din was rising, but Urban's voice swelled above it all. "Soldiers of Hell, become soldiers of the living God!" was his cry, facing straight upon Richard; "lands, fame, home, friends, love,—put them all by; remember the wounds of Christ, the moans of Jerusalem; for now again Christ says to you, 'He who loveth father and mother more than me is not worthy of me; if any man will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me—" No more; for there rose a thunder as when storm-driven billows break upon the beach.
"God wills it!" From Richard's lips it had sprung, all unbidden. Godfrey had caught it—Hildebrand's battle-cry. And as if the shout had reached high heaven, that instant the dun clouds parted. The sun streamed on naked swords and tossing lances innumerable; the flashing of the brightness was terrible as celestial light.
"God wills it!"
Every tongue had caught the cry. It swelled forth, unbidden, the voicings of the passion in ten thousand breasts. The sun glanced on the crystal cross in the Pope's hand: those who saw were dazzled, and looked away.
"Yes," cried Urban, across the sea of quivering steel, "God sends His own sign from on high. Truly, thus 'God wills it!' To-day is fulfilled the Saviour's promise, that where His faithful are He will be. He it is that has put these words in your hearts; choose them as battle-cry; for on your side will be the God of battles, and at His will you shall trample down the unbeliever."
Then Urban raised on high the fire-bathed cross. "See," cried he once more, his voice rising above the swelling din, "Christ Himself issues from the tomb, and gives to you this cross. It shall be the sign lifted among the nations which is to gather together the outcasts of Israel. Wear it upon your shoulders, upon your breasts; let it shine upon your arms, surety of victory or palm of martyrdom; unceasing reminder that as Christ died for you, so ought you to die for Him and His glory!"
Again rose the clamor, and until they chanted his death-mass Richard forgot not that hour. One wild cry went up, the scope of heaven shook, the earth quaked; and now the shout was, "The Cross! the Cross! to Jerusalem!" The swords danced more madly, and little Bernard rose from his seat, tossed his tiny fists in the air, and joined the mighty cry. Louis de Valmont, who had stood opposite Richard all the time, and drunk in each word, ran out before all men, flung his mailed arms round Longsword's neck and kissed him, while tears streamed down his face.
"O sweet brother," cried the Auvergner, all melted, "I too have sinned greatly in God's sight. I cannot go to Jerusalem with hate upon my soul. I forgive the death of Gilbert; pray that Our Lord may forgive me!"