“As if thou hadst any other reason for that, Waldemar,” said De Bracy, “than the promotion of thine own individual interest? Come, Fitzurse, we know each other⁠—ambition is thy pursuit, pleasure is mine, and they become our different ages. Of Prince John thou thinkest as I do; that he is too weak to be a determined monarch, too tyrannical to be an easy monarch, too insolent and presumptuous to be a popular monarch, and too fickle and timid to be long a monarch of any kind. But he is a monarch by whom Fitzurse and De Bracy hope to rise and thrive; and therefore you aid him with your policy, and I with the lances of my Free Companions.”

“A hopeful auxiliary,” said Fitzurse impatiently; “playing the fool in the very moment of utter necessity.⁠—What on earth dost thou purpose by this absurd disguise at a moment so urgent?”

“To get me a wife,” answered De Bracy coolly, “after the manner of the tribe of Benjamin.”

“The tribe of Benjamin?” said Fitzurse; “I comprehend thee not.”