But it was the great Xenodochia of the latter which was the glory of the place; it rivalled in size, and in the magnificence of its arrangements, the first hospital of Jerusalem; and with a grand and noble magnanimity, not only Christians, but Moslems and Saracens were received within its walls. Its fame became poetical, and it had its legends. Saladin, it is said, hearing of the surprising things done in the hospital of Acre, came in the disguise of a poor man, and feigning sickness, was entertained with a marvellous hospitality: “For,” says the French chronicler, “the infirmarian came to him, and asked him what he would eat; but he answered, ‘The only thing I can eat, and do intensely desire, it were madness even to name.’ ‘Do not hesitate in the least, dear brother,’ replied the infirmarian; ‘for a sick man here is given whatsoever he fancies, if gold can buy it; ask, therefore, for what you will, and you shall have it.’ ‘It is the foot of Moriel, the grand master’s horse,’ answered the pretended invalid; ‘they say he will not take a thousand bezants for him; nevertheless, if that be not cut off in my presence, I can never eat a morsel more.’ So the infirmarian went and told all to the master, and he marvelled greatly. ‘Well, since it be so, take my horse,’ he said; ‘better that all my horses were dead than a man.’ So the horse was led to the side of the sick man’s bed, and the groom armed himself with a hatchet, and prepared to strike off the fore-foot of the beautiful and noble steed. ‘Hold now,’ cried Saladin, ‘for I am satisfied, and will be content with mutton.’ Then Moriel was loosed again, and led back to his stable, and the grand master and his brethren were right glad thereof. So, when the soldan had eaten and drunk, he arose and returned to his country, and sent thence a charter sealed with his own seal, which ran as follows: ‘Let all men know that I, Saladin, soldan of Babylon, give and bequeath to the hospital of Acre a thousand bezants of gold, to be paid every year, in peace or war, unto the grand master, be he who he may, in gratitude for the wonderful charity of himself and of his order.’” We have called this a legendary tale; but though, indeed, it reads more like fable than reality, it would not be out of harmony with the romantic and adventurous spirit of its hero, and might be truth, but that the death of the great soldan occurred in the very year when the Christians took possession of Acre. Nevertheless it may instance the kind of reputation enjoyed at that time by the Hospitallers of St. John.