"Handsome they may be; but I would not give a lively sewing-girl of Naples for the fairest lady in the Calabrias. Ah! had you heard Italian whispered by the dulcet tongues of Venetian girls, you would turn with disgust from the guttural Greek of these poor provincials." "’Tis a matter of taste," replied our boyish friend, sipping his wine to conceal the rising colour which glowed on his beardless face. "I am a stranger here and pretend not to judge of the beauty or vivacity of the ladies: so I presume is this British Officer; and the Cavaliere di Malta cannot be expected to venture an opinion on such topics." "Now by all the gods of accursed heathendom!" cried the Italian officer, showing all his white teeth as he laughed boisterously. "Heaven help thine ignorance, most gentle signor of this barbarous land. I have seen at the windows of the Maltese knights fairer faces than all the towns of these wild provinces could produce. These cavaliers are greater connoisseurs than a Turkish dealer in such commodities; for the portentous cross on their breasts does not in any way freeze the heart below, or render it insensible to such impressions. By grey dawn, many a pretty damsel shrouded in a loose domino have I seen stealing away from the portal of the knights’ palace at Naples: though these cavaliers deport themselves demurely enough by day, the stars do not look on merrier revellers or more joyous companions; and the Cavaliere Marco knows well the truth of what I affirm. All Italy knows the famous military _dis_-order of Saint John." "The Cavaliere Marco would advise your lively valour to speak more gently of his order. Some irregularities are doubtless committed by my brethren of the sword and mantle; but you must bear in memory, the saying of the cunning Lucchesi—’There are good and bad people every where.’ Signor, speak not against my order! When I remember what it was but a few years ago—when the church of St. John was hung with the shields of four thousand Knights; its marble floors covered with the achievements of those who were gone; and its dome filled with the captured trophies of the Infidels—when the unsullied banner of the order waved from the ramparts of Sant’. Elmo, and we had gallies at sea and soldiers on the land, my mind is filled with sorrow and regret. When I look back to the glorious days of our illustrious grand master, old Villiers de L’Isle Adam, to those days when six hundred knights shut up in the island of Rhodes defended it for six months against two hundred thousand Turks, my soul is filled with exultation and chivalry! So beware, Signor Valerio! The Knights of Malta have suffered so much of late from the usurpation of Buonaparte and the unfulfilled and often reiterated promises of Britain, that they have grown somewhat petulant and hasty."