“Saxon or Jew,” answered the Prince, “Saxon or Jew, dog or hog, what matters it? I say, name Rebecca, were it only to mortify the Saxon churls.”

A murmur arose even among his own immediate attendants.

“This passes a jest, my lord,” said De Bracy; “no knight here will lay lance in rest if such an insult is attempted.”

“It is the mere wantonness of insult,” said one of the oldest and most important of Prince John’s followers, Waldemar Fitzurse, “and if your Grace attempt it, cannot but prove ruinous to your projects.”

“I entertained you, sir,” said John, reining up his palfrey haughtily, “for my follower, but not for my counsellor.”

“Those who follow your Grace in the paths which you tread,” said Waldemar, but speaking in a low voice, “acquire the right of counsellors; for your interest and safety are not more deeply gaged than their own.”