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Updated: May 25, 2025
"Ha! Beauseant!" cried he. "Allah humdillah!" 'Twas the battle-cry in Palestine of the irresistible Knights Hospitallers. "Look to thyself, Sir Knight, and for mercy from heaven! I will give thee none." "A Bugo for Katzenellenbogen!" exclaimed Sir Ludwig, piously: that, too, was the well-known war-cry of his princely race. "I will give the signal," said the old hermit, waving his pipe.
So far indeed had the cavalier travelled! and it is needless to state that the bag in question contained such remaining articles of the toilet as the high-born noble deemed unnecessary to place in his valise. "By Saint Bugo of Katzenellenbogen!" said the good knight, shivering, "'tis colder here than at Damascus! Marry, I am so hungry I could eat one of Saladin's camels.
Holy Bugo! but he did good service at Acre! But his character was such that, spite of his bravery, he was dismissed the army; nor even allowed to sell his captain's commission." "I have heard of it," said the Margrave; "Gottfried hath told me of it. 'Twas about some silly quarrel over the wine-cup a mere silly jape, believe me. Hugo de Brodenel would have no black bottle on the board.
Bugo," whispered Ludwig to the Countess, "your husband is as surly as a bear that hath been wounded o' the head." Tears falling into her soup-plate were her only reply. The soup, the turbot, the haunch of mutton, Count Ludwig remarked that the Margrave sent all away untasted.
"I have done all this," said the dying man, "and here, in my last hour, repent me. The Lady Theodora is a spotless lady; the youthful Otto the true son of his father Sir Hildebrandt is not his father, but his UNCLE." "Gracious Buffo!" "Celestial Bugo!" here said the hermit and the Knight of Hombourg simultaneously, clasping their hands. "Yes, his uncle; but with the BAR-SINISTER in his scutcheon.
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