“Not by me,” said De Bracy, hastily; “I was his prisoner, and he took me to mercy. I will not harm a feather in his crest.”

“Who spoke of harming him?” said Prince John, with a hardened laugh; “the knave will say next that I meant he should slay him!⁠—No⁠—a prison were better; and whether in Britain or Austria , what matters it?⁠—Things will be but as they were when we commenced our enterprise⁠—It was founded on the hope that Richard would remain a captive in Germany ⁠—Our uncle Robert lived and died in the castle of Cardiffe.”

“Ay, but,” said Waldemar, “your sire Henry sat more firm in his seat than your Grace can. I say the best prison is that which is made by the sexton⁠—no dungeon like a church-vault! I have said my say.”