"I am a physician, as thou knowest, and it is written that he who would have his wound cured must not shrink when the leech probes and tests it.

Seest thou, I am about to lay my finger on the sore.

Thou lovest this kinswoman of the Melech Ric.

Unfold the veil that shrouds thy thoughts--or unfold it not if thou wilt, for mine eyes see through its coverings." "I LOVED her," answered Sir Kenneth, after a pause, "as a man loves Heaven's grace, and sued for her favour like a sinner for Heaven's pardon." "And you love her no longer ?" said the Saracen.
"Alas," answered Sir Kenneth, "I am no longer worthy to love her.

I pray thee cease this discourse--thy words are poniards to me." "Pardon me but a moment," continued Ilderim.