Chapters 44
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1 01 - Chapter 1 24:50
IVANHOE.
Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott.
Chapter One.
Thus communed these, while to their lowly dome the full-fed swine returned with evening home, compelled, reluctant to the several sties, with din of streperous and ungrateful cries.
Pope's Odyssey. In that pleasant district of Merry England, which is watered by the River Don, there extended in ancient times a large forest, covering the greater part of the beautiful hills and valleys which lie between Sheffield and the pleasant town of Doncaster. The remains of this extensive wood are still to be seen at the noble seats of Wentworth, of Warncliffe Park, and around Rotherham. Here, haunted of yore, The fabulous dragon of Wantley. Here were fought many of the most desperate battles during the civil wars of the Roses. And here also flourished in ancient times those bands of gallant outlaws whose deeds have been rendered so popular in English song.
Such being our chief scene, the date of our story refers to a period towards the end of the reign of Richard I, when his return from his long captivity had become an event rather wished than hoped for by his despairing subjects, who were in the meantime subjected to every species of subordinate oppression. The nobles, whose power had become exorbitant during the reign of Stephan, and whom the prudence of Henry, the second, had scarce reduced into some degree of subjection to the crown, had now resumed their ancient license in its utmost extent. Despising the feeble interference of the English Council of State, fortifying their castles, increasing the number of their dependents, Reducing all around them to a state of vassalage, and striving by every means in their power to place themselves each at the head of such forces as might enable him to make a figure in the national convulsions which appeared to be impending.
The situation of the inferior gentry, or Franklins, as they were called, who by the law and spirit of English Constitution were entitled to hold themselves independent of feudal tyranny, became now unusually precarious. If, as was most generally the case, they placed themselves under the protection of any of the petty kings in their vicinity, accepted of feudal offices in his household, or bound themselves by mutual treaties of alliance and protection to support him in his enterprises, they might indeed purchase temporary repose. But it must be with the sacrifice of that independence which was so dear to every English bosom, and at the certain hazard of being involved as a party in whatever rash expedition the ambition of their protector might lead him to undertake.
On the other hand, such and so multiplied were the means of vexation and oppression possessed by the great barons, that they never wanted the pretext, and seldom the will, to harass and pursue, even to the very edge of destruction, any of their less powerful neighbors who attempted to separate themselves from their authority. And to trust for their protection during the dangers of the times, to their own inoffensive conduct, and to the laws of the land.
A circumstance which greatly tended to enhance the tyranny of the nobility and the sufferings of the inferior classes, arose from the consequences of the conquest by Duke William of Normandy. Four generations had not sufficed to blend the hostile blood of the Normans and Anglo-Saxons, or to unite by common language and mutual interests two hostile races, one of which still felt the elation of triumph, while the other groaned under all the consequences of defeat. The power had been completely placed in the hands of the Norman nobility by the event at the Battle of Hastings, and it had been used, as our historians assure us, with no moderate hand.
The whole race of Saxon princes and nobles had been extirpated or disinherited with few or no exceptions, nor were the numbers great who possessed land in the country of their fathers, even as proprietors of the second or of yet inferior classes. The royal policy had long been to weaken, by every means, legal or illegal, the strength of a part of the population which was justly considered as nourishing the most inveterate antipathy to their victor. All the monarchs of the Norman race had shown the most marked predilection for their Norman subjects. The laws of the chase and many others, equally unknown to the milder and more free spirit of the Saxon constitution, had been fixed upon the necks of the subjugated inhabitants, to add weight, as it were, to the feudal chains with which they were loaded.
At court, and in the castles of the great nobles, where the pomp and state of a court was emulated, Norman French was the only language employed. In courts of law, the pleadings and judgments were delivered in the same tongue. In short, French was the language of honor, of chivalry, and even of justice, while the far more manly and expressive Anglo-Saxon was abandoned to the use of rustics and hinds, who knew no other. Still, however, the necessary intercourse between the lords of the soil and those oppressed inferior beings by whom that soil was cultivated Occasioned the gradual formation of a dialect compounded betwixt the French and the Anglo-Saxon, in which they could render themselves mutually intelligible to each other.
And from this necessity arose by degrees the structure of our present English language, in which the speech of the victors and the vanquished have been so happily blended together. And which has since been so richly improved by importations from the classical languages, and from those spoken by the southern nations of Europe. This state of things I have thought it necessary to premise for the information of the general reader, who might be apt to forget that, although no great historical events, such as war or insurrection, mark the existence of the Anglo-Saxons as a separate people, subsequent to the reign of William the Second. Yet the great national distinctions betwixt them and their conquerors, the recollection of what they had formerly been, and to what they were now reduced, continued down to the reign of Edward the Third, to keep open the wounds which the conquest had inflicted, and to maintain a line of separation betwixt the descendants of the Victor Normans and the vanquished Saxons.
The sun was setting upon one of the rich grassy glades of that forest which we have mentioned in the beginning of the chapter. Hundreds of broad-headed, short-stemmed, wide-branched oaks, which had witnessed perhaps the stately march of the Roman soldiery, flung their gnarled arms over a thick carpet of the most delicious green sward. In some places they were intermingled with beeches, hollies, and copsewood of various descriptions, So closely as totally to intercept the level beams of the sinking sun. In others they receded from each other, forming those long, sweeping vistas in the intricacy of which the eye delights to lose itself, while imagination considers them as the paths to yet wilder scenes of sylvan solitude.
Here the red rays of the sun shot a broken and discolored light, that partially hung upon the shattered boughs and mossy trunks of the trees. And there they illuminated in brilliant patches the portions of turf to which they made their way. A considerable open space in the midst of this glade seemed formerly to have been dedicated to the rites of druidical superstition. For, on the summit of a hillock, so regular as to seem artificial, there still remained part of a circle of rough, unhewn stones of large dimensions. Seven stood upright. The rest had been dislodged from their places, probably by the zeal of some convert to Christianity, and lay, some prostrate, near their former site, and others on the side of the hill.
One large stone, only had found its way to the bottom, and, in stopping the course of a small brook which glided smoothly round the foot of the eminence, gave by its opposition a feeble voice of murmur to the placid and elsewhere silent streamlet.
The human figures which completed this landscape were in number two, Partaking in their dress and appearance of that wild and rustic character which belonged to the woodlands of the West Riding of Yorkshire at that early period. The eldest of these men had a stern, savage, and wild aspect. His garment was of the simplest form imaginable, being a close jacket with sleeves, Composed of the tanned skin of some animal, on which the hair had been originally left, but which had been worn off in so many places that it would have been difficult to distinguish from the patches that remained to what creature the fur had belonged. This primeval vestment reached from the throat to the knees, and served at once all the usual purposes of body clothing.
There was no wider opening at the collar than was necessary to admit the passage of the head, from which it may be inferred that it was put on by slipping it over the head and shoulders, in the manner of a modern shirt or ancient hauberk. Sandals, bound with thongs made of boar's hide, protected the feet. And a roll of thin leather was twined artificially round the legs, and, ascending above the calf, left the knees bare like those of a Scottish Highlander. To make the jacket sit yet more close to the body, it was gathered at the middle by a broad leathern belt, secured by a brass buckle. To one side of which was attached a sort of scrip, and to the other a ram's horn, accoutred with a mouthpiece, for the purpose of blowing.
In the same belt was stuck one of those long, broad, sharp-pointed, and two-edged knives with a buck's-horn handle, which were fabricated in the neighborhood, and bore even at this early period the name of a Sheffield whittle. The man had no covering upon his head, which was only defended by his own thick hair, matted and twisted together, and scorched by the influence of the sun into a rusty, dark-red color. forming a contrast with the overgrown beard upon his cheeks, which was rather of a yellow or amber hue. One part of his dress only remains, but it is too remarkable to be suppressed. It was a brass ring, resembling a dog's collar, but without any opening, and soldered fast round his neck, so loose as to form no impediment to his breathing, Yet so tight as to be incapable of being removed, excepting by the use of the phial.
On this singular gorget was engraved in Saxon characters an inscription of the following purport. Girth, the son of Beowulf, is the born thrall of Cedric of Rotherwood.
Beside the swineherd, for such was Girth's occupation, was seated upon one of the fallen druidical monuments a person about ten years younger in appearance, and whose dress, though resembling his companions in form, was of better materials, and of a more fantastic description. His jacket had been stained of a bright purple hue, upon which there had been some attempt to paint grotesque ornaments in different colours. To the jacket he added a short cloak, which scarcely reached halfway down his thigh. It was of crimson cloth, though a good deal soiled, lined with bright yellow. And as he could transfer it from one shoulder to the other, or, at his pleasure, draw it all around him, its width contrasted with its want of longitude, formed a fantastic piece of drapery.
He had thin silver bracelets upon his arms, and on his neck a collar of the same metal, bearing the inscription, Wamba, the son of Whitless, is the thrall of Cedric of Rotherwood.
This personage had the same sort of sandals with his companion, but instead of the roll of leather thong, his legs were cased in a sort of gaiters, of which one was red and the other yellow. He was provided also with a cap, having around it more than one bell about the size of those attached to hocks, which jingled as he turned his head to one side or other. And as he seldom remained a minute in the same posture, the sound might be considered as incessant. Around the edge of this cap was a stiff bandeau of leather, cut at the top into openwork, resembling a coronet. While a prolonged bag arose from within it, and fell down on one shoulder like an old-fashioned nightcap, or a jelly-bag, or the head-gear of a modern hussar.
It was to this part of the cap that the bells were attached. which, circumstance as well as the shape of his head-dress, and his own half-crazed, half-cunning expression of countenance, sufficiently pointed him out as belonging to the race of domestic clowns, or jesters, maintained in the houses of the wealthy, to help away the tedium of those lingering hours which they were obliged to spend within doors. He bore, like his companion, a scrip attached to his belt, But had neither horn nor knife, being probably considered as belonging to a class whom it is esteemed dangerous to entrust with edge-tools. In place of these he was equipped with a sword of lath, resembling that with which Harlequin operates his wonders upon the modern stage.
The outward appearance of these two men formed scarce a stronger contrast than their look and demeanor. That of the serf or bondman was sad and sullen. His aspect was bent on the ground with an air of deep dejection which might be almost construed into apathy had not the fire which occasionally sparkled in his red eye manifested that there slumbered under the appearance of sullen despondency a sense of oppression and a disposition to resistance. The looks of Wamba, on the other hand, indicated as usual with his class a sort of vacant curiosity and fidgety impatience of any posture of repose, together with the utmost self-satisfaction respecting his own situation and the appearance which he made.
The dialogue which they maintained between them was carried on in Anglo-Saxon, which, as we said before, was universally spoken by the inferior class, excepting the Norman soldiers and the immediate personal dependence of the great feudal nobles. But to give their conversation in the original would convey but little information to the modern reader, for whose benefit we begged to offer the following translation.
The curse of St. Wythold upon these infernal porkers," said the swineherd, after blowing his horn obstreperously to collect together the scattered herd of swine, which, answering his call with notes equally melodious, made, however, no haste to remove themselves from the luxurious banquet of beech-mast and acorns on which they had fattened, or to forsake the marshy banks of the rivulet, where several of them Half plunged in mud, lay stretched at their ease, altogether regardless of the voice of their keeper. "'The curse of St. Wythold upon them and upon me,' said Girth. "'If the two-legged wolf snap not up some of them ere nightfall, I am no true man. Here, fangs! fangs!' he ejaculated, at the top of his voice, to a ragged, wolfish-looking dog.
A sort of lurcher, half-mastiff, half-greyhound, which ran limping about, as if with the purpose of seconding his master in collecting the refractory grunters, but which, in fact, from misapprehension of the swineherd's signals, ignorance of his own duty or malice prepense, only drove them hither and thither, and increased the evil which seemed to design to remedy. "'A devil draw the teeth of him!' said Girth. And the mother of mischief confound the ranger of the forest that cuts the fore-claws off our dogs, and makes them unfit for their trade. Wamba, up and help me, and thou be'st a man. Take a turn round the back of the hill to gain the wind on them. And when thou'st got the weather-gauge thou may'st drive them before thee as gently as so many innocent lambs.
Truly, said Wamba, without stirring from the spot, I have consulted my legs upon this matter, and they are altogether of opinion that to carry my gay garments through these sloughs would be an act of unfriendship to my sovereign person and royal wardrobe. Wherefore, Girth, I advise thee to call off fangs, and leave the herd to their destiny, which, whether they meet with bands of travelling soldiers, or of outlaws, or of wandering pilgrims, can be little else than to be converted into normans before morning. To thy no small ease and comfort.
The swine turned normans to my comfort. Expound that to me, Wamba, for my brain is too dull and my mind too vexed to read riddles. Why, how call you those grunting brutes running about on their four legs? demanded Wamba. Swine, fowl! Swine! said the herd. Every fool knows that. "'And swine is good saxon,' said the jester. "'But how call you the sow when she is flayed and drawn and quartered and hung up by the heels like a traitor?' "'Pork,' answered the swineherd. "'I am very glad every fool knows that too,' said Wamba. "'And pork, I think, is good norman French. And so, when the brute lives and is in the charge of a saxon slave, She goes by her Saxon name, but becomes a Norman and is called Pork, when she is carried to the Castle Hall to feast among the nobles.
What dost thou think of this, friend Gurth, ha?
It is but too true doctrine, friend Wamba, however it got into thy fool's pate. Nay, I can tell you more, said Wamba, in the same tone. There is an old alderman-ox continues to hold his saxon epithet, while he is under the charge of serfs and bondsmen, such as thou, but becomes beef, a fiery French gallant, when he arrives before the worshipful jaws that are destined to consume him. Mein herr Caff, too, becomes Monsieur de Vaux, in like manner. He is saxon when he requires tendance, and takes a norman name when he becomes a matter of enjoyment. "'By St. Dunstan,' answered Girth, "'thou speakest but sad truths. "'Little is left to us but the air we breathe, "'and that appears to have been reserved with much hesitation, "'solely for the purpose of enabling us to endure the tasks "'they lay upon our shoulders.
"'The finest and the fattest is for their board. "'The loveliest is for their couch. The best and bravest supply their foreign masters with soldiers, and whitened distant lands with their bones, leaving few here who have either will or the power to protect the unfortunate Saxon. God's blessing on our master, Cedric. He hath done the work of a man in standing in the gap. But Reginald fronteboeuf is coming down to this country in person, and we shall soon see how little Cedric's trouble will avail him. Hear, hear! He exclaimed again, raising his voice. Soho! Soho! Well done, fangs! Thou hast them all before thee now, and bring'st them on bravely, lad. Girth! said the jester. I know thou thinkest me a fool, or thou wouldst not be so rash in putting my head into my mouth.
One word to Reginald fronteboeuf, or Philippe de Malvoisin, that thou hast spoken treason against the Norman, And thou art but a castaway swineherd. Thou wouldst waver on one of these trees as a terror to all evil speakers against dignities.
Dog, thou wouldst not betray me," said Girth, after having led me on to speak so much at disadvantage. Betray thee, answered the jester. No, that were the trick of a wise man. A fool cannot half so well help himself. But, soft, whom have we here? He said, listening to the trampling of several horses which became then audible. "'Never mind whom,' answered Girth, who had now got his herd before him, and, with the aid of fangs, was driving them down on one of the long, dim vistas which we have endeavoured to describe. "'Nay, but I must see the riders,' answered Wamba. "'Perhaps they are come from Fairyland with a message from King Oberon.' A murrin take thee," rejoined the swineherd. "'Wilt thou talk of such things while a terrible storm of thunder and lightning is raging within a few miles of us?
Hark, how the thunder rumbles, and for summer rain I never saw such broad, downright flat drops fall out of the clouds. The oaks, too, notwithstanding the calm weather, sob and creak with their great boughs as if announcing a tempest. Thou canst play the rational, if thou wilt. Credit me for once, and let us home ere the store begins to rage, for the night will be fearful.
Wamba seemed to feel the force of this appeal, and accompanied his companion, who began his journey after catching up a long quarter-staff which lay upon the grass beside him. This second Eumaeus strode hastily down the forest glade, driving before him, with the assistance of Fangs, the whole heard of his inharmonious charge.
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2 02 - Chapter 2 33:12
IVANHOE. Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. Chapter Two. A monk there was, a fair for the maestry, an outrider that loved Venere, a manly man, to be an abbot able. Full many a dainty horse had he in stable, and when he rode, men might his bridle hear, jingling in a whistling wind as clear, And ache as loud as doth the chapel bell, there as this lord was keeper of the cell. Chaucer Notwithstanding the occasional exhortation and chiding of his companion, the noise of the horseman's feet continuing to approach, Wamba could not be prevented from lingering occasionally on the road upon every pretence which occurred. Now catching from the hazel a cluster of half-ripe nuts, and now turning his head to Lear after a cottage maiden who crossed their path.
The horsemen, therefore, soon overtook them on the road.
Their numbers amounted to ten men, of whom the two who rode foremost seemed to be persons of considerable importance, and the others their attendants. It was not difficult to ascertain the condition and character of one of these personages. He was obviously an exclesiastic of high rank. His dress was that of a Cistercian monk, but composed of materials much finer than those which the rule of that order admitted. His mantle and hood were of the best Flanders cloth, and fell in ample and not ungraceful folds around a handsome, though somewhat corpulent, person. His countenance bore as little The marks of self-denial as his habit indicated contempt of worldly splendor. His features might have been called good had there not lurked under the penthouse of his eye that sly epicurean twinkle which indicates the cautious voluptuary.
In other respects, his profession and situation had taught him a ready command over his countenance, which he could contract at pleasure into solemnity, Although its natural expression was that of good-humoured social indulgence. In defiance of conventual rules and the edicts of popes and councils, the sleeves of this dignitary were lined and turned up with rich furs. His mantle secured at the throat with a golden clasp, and the whole dress proper to his order as much refined upon, and ornamented as that of a Quaker beauty of the present day, who, while she retains the garb and costume of her sect, continues to give to its simplicity, by the choice of materials and the mode of disposing them, a certain air of coquettish attraction savouring but too much of the vanities of the world.
This worthy churchman rode upon a well-fed, ambling mule, whose furniture was highly decorated, and whose bridle, according to the fashion of the day, was ornamented with silver bells. In his seat he had nothing of the awkwardness of the convent, but displayed the easy and habitual grace of a well-trained horseman. Indeed, it seemed that so humble a conveyance as a mule, in however good case, and however well broken to a pleasant and accommodating amble, was only used by the gallant monk for travelling on the road. A lay brother, one of those who followed in the train, had for his use on other occasions one of the most handsome Spanish genits ever bred in Andalusia, which merchants used at the time to import with great trouble and risk for the use of persons of wealth and distinction.
The saddle and housings of this superb palfrey were covered by a long foot-cloth, which reached nearly to the ground, and on which were richly embroidered mitres, crosses, and other exclesiastical emblems. Another lay-brother led a sumpter-mule, loaded probably with his superior's baggage, and two monks of his own order, of inferior station, rode together in the rear, laughing and conversing with each other, Without taking much notice of the other members of the cavalcade. The companion of the church dignitary was a man past forty, thin, strong, tall, and muscular. An athletic figure, which long fatigue and constant exercise seemed to have left none of the softer part of the human form, having reduced the whole to brawn, bones, and sinews, which had sustained a thousand toils, and were ready to dare a thousand more.
His head was covered with a scarlet cap, faced with fur, of that kind which the French call mortier, from its resemblance to the shape of an inverted mortar. His countenance was therefore fully displayed, and its expression was calculated to impress a degree of awe, if not fear, upon strangers. High features, naturally strong and powerfully impressive, had been burnt almost into negro blackness by constant exposure to the tropical sun, and might in their ordinary state be said to slumber after the storm of passion had passed away. But the projection of the veins of the forehead, the readiness with which the upper lip and its thick black moustaches quivered upon the slightest emotion, plainly intimated that the tempest might be again and easily awakened.
His keen, piercing, dark eyes told in every glance a history of difficulties subdued and dangers dared, and seemed to challenge opposition to his wishes, for the pleasure of sweeping it from his road by a determined exertion of courage and of will.
A deep scar on his brow gave additional sternness to his countenance, and a sinister expression to one of his eyes, which had been slightly injured on the same occasion, and of which the vision, though perfect, was in a slight and partial degree distorted.
The upper dress of this personage resembled that of his companion in shape, being a long monastic mantle, but the colour, being scarlet, showed that he did not belong to any of the four regular orders of monks.
On the right shoulder of the mantle there was cut, in white cloth, a cross of a peculiar form. This upper robe concealed what at first view seemed rather inconsistent with its form, a shirt namely of linked male, with sleeves and gloves of the same, curiously plaited and interwoven, as flexible to the body as those which are now wrought in the stocking-loom out of less obdurate materials. The forepart of his thighs, where the folds of his mantle permitted them to be seen, were also covered with linked male. The knees and feet were defended by splints, or thin plates of steel, ingeniously jointed upon each other, and male hose reaching from the ankle to the knee effectually protected the legs, and completed the rider's defensive armor.
In his girdle he wore a long and double-edged dagger, which was the only offensive weapon about his person. He rode, not a mule like his companion, but a strong hackney for the road, to save his gallant war-horse, which a squire led behind, fully accoutred for battle, with a chamfron or plaited headpiece upon his head, having a short spike projecting from the front. On one side of the saddle hung a short battle-axe, richly inlaid with damascene carving. On the other of the rider's plumed headpiece and hood of mail, with the long two-handed sword used by the chivalry of the period. A second squire held aloft his master's lance, from the extremity of which fluttered a small banderol, or streamer, bearing a cross of the same form with that embroidered upon his cloak.
He also carried his small triangular shield, broad enough at the top to protect the breast, and from thence diminishing to a point. It was covered with a scarlet cloth, which prevented the device from being seen.
These two squires were followed by two attendants, whose dark visages, white turbans, and the oriental form of their garments showed them to be natives of some distant eastern country. The whole appearance of this warrior and his retinue was wild and outlandish. The dress of his squires were gorgeous, and his eastern attendants wore silver collars round their throats, and bracelets of the same metal upon their swarthy legs and arms, of which the latter were naked from the elbow, and the former from mid-leg to ankle. Silk and embroidery distinguished their dresses, and marked the wealth and importance of their master, forming at the same time a striking contrast with the martial simplicity of his own attire.
They were armed with crooked sabres, having the hilt and baldric inlaid with gold, and matched with Turkish daggers of yet more costly workmanship. Each of them bore at his saddle-bow a bundle of darts or javelins, about four feet in length, having sharp steel heads, a weapon much use in among the Saracens, and of which the memory is yet preserved in the martial exercise called El Jered. Still practiced in the eastern countries.
The steeds of these attendants were in appearance as foreign as their riders. They were of Saracen origin, and consequently of Arabian descent, and their fine slender limbs, small fetlocks, thin manes, and easy springy motion formed a marked contrast with the large, dointed heavy horses, of which the race was cultivated in Flanders and in Normandy, For mounting the men-at-arms of the period in all the panoply of plate and mail, and which, placed by the side of those eastern coursers, might have passed for a personification of substance and of shadow.
The singular appearance of this cavalcade not only attracted the curiosity of Wamba, but excited even that of his less volatile companion. The monk he instantly knew to be prior of Jorvaux Abbey, Well known for many miles around as a lover of the chase, of the banquet, and, if fame did him not wrong, of other worldly pleasures still more inconsistent with his monastic vows. Yet so loose were the ideas of the times respecting the conduct of the clergy, whether secular or regular, that the prior aimer maintained a fair character in the neighbourhood of his abbey. His free and jovial temper, and the readiness with which he granted absolution from all ordinary delinquencies, rendered him a favorite among the nobility and principal gentry, to several of whom he was allied by birth, being of a distinguished Norman family.
The ladies, in particular, were not disposed to scan too nicely the morals of a man who was a professed admirer of their sex, and who possessed many means of dispelling the ennui which was too apt to intrude upon the halls and bowers of an ancient feudal castle. The prior mingled in the sports of the field with more than due eagerness, and was allowed to possess the best-trained hawks and the fleetest greyhounds in the north riding, circumstances which strongly recommended him to the youthful gentry. With the old he had another part to play, which, when needful, he could sustain with great decorum. His knowledge of books, however superficial, was sufficient to impress upon their ignorance respect for his supposed learning.
And the gravity of his deportment and language, with the high tone which he exerted in setting forth the authority of the church and of the priesthood, impressed them no less with an opinion of his sanctity. Even the common people, The severest critics of the conduct of their betters had commiseration with the follies of Prior Eimer. He was generous, and charity, as it is well known, covereth a multitude of sins, in another sense than that in which it is said to do so in Scripture. The revenues of the monastery, of which a large part was at his disposal, while they gave him the means of supplying his own very considerable expenses, afforded also those largesses which he bestowed among the peasantry, and with which he frequently relieved the distresses of the oppressed.
If Prior Eimer rode hard in the chase, or remained long at the banquet, if Prior Eimer was seen at the early peep of dawn to enter the postern of the abbey, as he glided home from some rendezvous which had occupied the hours of darkness, Men only shrugged up their shoulders, and reconciled themselves to his irregularities, by recollecting that the same were practised by many of his brethren, who had no redeeming qualities whatsoever to atone for them. Prior Eimer, therefore, and his character were well known to our Saxon serfs, who made their rude obeisance, and received his Benedicte mes fils in return. But the singular appearance of his companion and his attendants arrested their attention and excited their wonder.
And they could scarcely attend to the prior of Gervaux's question when he demanded if they knew of any place of harbourage in the vicinity. So much were they surprised at the half-monastic, half-military appearance of the swarthy stranger, and at the uncouth dress and arms of his eastern attendants. It is probable, too, that the language in which the benediction was conferred, and the information asked, sounded ungracious, though not probably unintelligible, in the ears of the Saxon peasants. "'I asked you, my children,' said the prior, raising his voice, and using the lingua franca, or mixed language, in which the Norman and Saxon races conversed with each other, If there be in this neighborhood any good man who, for the love of God and devotion to Mother Church, will give two of her humblest servants with their train a night's hospitality and refreshment?
This he spoke with a tone of conscious importance, which formed a strong contrast to the modest terms which he thought it proper to employ. Two of the humblest servants of Mother Church repeated Wamba to himself. But, fool as he was, taking care not to make his observation audible.
I should like to see her seneschals, her chief butlers, and her other principal domestics.
After this internal commentary on the prior's speech, he raised his eyes, and replied to the question which had been put.
If the reverend fathers, he said, loved good cheer and soft lodging, Few miles of riding would carry them to the Priory of Brinksworth, where their quality could not but secure them the most honorable reception, or, if they preferred spending a penitential evening, they might turn down yonder Wild Glade, which would bring them to the Hermitage of Copmanhurst, where a pious Anchorette would make them sharers for the night of the shelter of his roof and the benefit of his prayers.
The prior shook his head at both proposals.
"'Mine honest friend,' said he, "'if the jangling of thy bells had not dizzied thine understanding, thou mightst know the clericus clericum non decimate,' that is to say, we churchmen do not exhaust each other's hospitality, but rather require that of the laity, giving them thus an opportunity to serve God in honoring and relieving his appointed servants.
"'It is true,' replied Wamba, "'that I, being but an ass, am nevertheless honoured to bear the bells as well as your reverence's mule. Notwithstanding, I did not conceive that the charity of Mother Church and her servants might be said with other charity to begin at home.' "'A truce to thine insolence, fellow,' said the armed rider, breaking in on his prattle with a high and stern voice. And tell us, if thou canst, the road to—how called you your Franklin, Prior Aimer?
Cedric, answered the prior. Cedric the Saxon. Tell me, good fellow, are we near his dwelling, and can you show us the road?
The road will be uneasy to find, answered Girth, who broke silence for the first time. And the family of Cedric retire early to rest. Truth, tell not me, fellow, said the military rider. "'Tis easy for them to arise and supply the wants of travellers such as we are, who will not stoop to beg the hospitality which we have a right to command." "'I know not,' said Girth sullenly, "'if I should show the way to my master's house to those who demand as a right the shelter which most are fain to ask as a favour.'" "'Do you dispute with me, slave?' said the soldier, and, setting spurs to his horse, he caused him make a demi-vol to cross the path, raising at the same time the riding-rod which he held in his hand, with a purpose of chastising what he considered as the insolence of the peasant.
Girth darted at him a savage and revengeful scowl, and with a fierce yet hesitating motion laid his hand on the haft of his knife. But the interference of Prior Eimer, who pushed his mule betwixt his companion and the swineherd prevented the meditated violence. Nay, by St. Mary, brother Brian, you must not think you are now in Palestine, predominating over heathen Turks and infidel Saracens. We islanders love not blows save those of the holy church, who chasteneth whom she loveth. Tell me, good fellow, said he to Wamba, and seconded his speech by a small piece of silver coin. The way to Cedric the Saxon's. You cannot be ignorant of it, and it is your duty to direct the wanderer even when his character is less sanctified than ours.
"'In truth, venerable father,' answered the jester, "'the Saracen head of your right reverend companion has frightened out of mine the way home. I am not sure I shall get there to-night myself.' "'Tush!' said the abbot. Thou canst tell us if thou wilt. This reverend brother has been all his life engaged in fighting among the Saracens for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. He is of the Order of Knights Templars, whom you may have heard of. He is half a monk, half a soldier. If he is but half a monk, said the jester, he should not be wholly unreasonable with those whom he meets upon the road, even if they should be in no hurry to answer questions that No way concern them. "'I forgive thy wit,' replied the abbot.
"'On condition thou wilt show me the way to Cedric's mansion.' "'Well, then,' answered Wamba, "'your reverence must hold on this path till you come to a sunken cross, of which scarce a cubit's length remains above ground.' Then take the path to the left, for there are four which meet at Sunken Cross, and I trust your reverence will obtain shelter before the storm comes on.
The abbot thanked his sage advisor, and the cavalcade setting spurs to their horses rode on as men who do wish to reach therein before the bursting of a night's storm. As their horses' hoofs died away, Girth said to his companion, If they follow thy wise direction, The reverend fathers will hardly reach Rotherwood this night. "'No,' said the jester, grinning. "'But they may reach Sheffield if they have good luck, and that is as fit a place for them. I am not so bad a woodsman as to show the dog where the deer lies, if I have no mind he should chase him.' "'Thou art right,' said Girth. "'It were ill that Aimer saw the Lady Rowena.' And it were worse, it may be, for Cedric to quarrel, as is most likely he would with this military monk.
But, like good servants, let us hear and see and say nothing. We return to the riders, who had soon left the bondsmen far behind them, and who maintained the following conversation in the Norman-French language. Usually employed by the superior classes, with the exception of the few who were still inclined to boast their Saxon descent. "'What mean these fellows by their capricious insolence?' said the Templar to the Cistercian. "'And why did you prevent me from chastising it?' "'Mary, brother Brian,' replied the prior. "'Touching the one of them, it were hard for me to render a reason for a fool speaking according to his folly.' And the other churl is of that savage, fierce, intractable race, some of whom, as I have often told you, are still to be found among the descendants of the conquered Saxons, and whose supreme pleasure it is to testify, by all means in their power, their aversion to their conquerors.
I would soon have beat him into courtesy. I am accustomed to deal with such spirits. Our Turkish captives are as fierce and intractable as Odin himself could have been. Yet two months in my household, under the management of my master of the slaves, has made them humble, submissive, serviceable, and observant of your will. Merry, sir, you must beware of the poison and the dagger, for they use either with free will when you give them the slightest opportunity. Ay, but, answered Prior Eimer, Every land has its own manners and fashions, and besides that beating, this fellow could procure us no information respecting the road to Cedric's house. It would have been sure to have established a quarrel betwixt you and him had we found our way thither.
Remember what I told you. This wealthy Franklin is proud, fierce, jealous, and irritable, a withstander of the nobility, and even of his neighbors, Reginald fronteboeuf and Philippe Malvoisin. who are no babes to strive with. He stands up so sternly for the privileges of his race, and is so proud of his uninterrupted descent from hereward, a renowned champion of the heptarchy, that he is universally called Cedric the Saxon, and makes a boast of his belonging to a people from whom many others endeavour to hide their descent, lest they should encounter a share of the voe victis, or severities imposed upon the vanquished. Prior Aimer, said the Templar, you are a man of gallantry, learned in the study of beauty, and as expert as a troubadour in all manners concerning the aretes of love.
But shall I expect much beauty in this celebrated Rowena, to counterbalance the self-denial and forbearance which I must exert, if I am to court the favor of such a seditious churl as you have described her father Cedric? Cedric is not her father. replied the prior, and is but of remote relation. She is descended from higher blood than even he pretends to, and is but distantly connected with him by birth. Her guardian, however, he is, self-constituted, as I believe. But his ward is as dear to him as if she were his own child. Of her beauty you shall soon be judge. And if the purity of her complexion, and the majestic yet soft expression of a mild blue eye do not chase from your memory the black-tressed girls of Palestine, aye, or the Houris of Gold Mahound's Paradise, I am an infidel and no true son of the Church.
Should your boasted beauty, said the Templar, be weighed in the balance and found wanting, you know our wager. My gold collar, answered the prior. "'Against ten butts of Cheean wine, they are mine as securely as if they were already in the convent vaults under the key of old Dennis the cellarer.' "'And I am myself to be judge,' said the Templar. "'And I am only to be convinced on my own admission that I have seen no maiden so beautiful since Pentecost was a twelvemonth. Ran it not so?' Prior, your collar is in danger. I will wear it over my gorget in the lists of Acheby de la Zouche.
Win it fairly, said the prior, and wear it as he will. I will trust your giving true response, on your word as a knight and as a churchman. Yet, brother, take my advice, and file your tongue to a little more courtesy than your habits of predominating over infidel captives and eastern bondsmen have accustomed you. Cedric the Saxon, if offended, and he is no way slack in taking offense, is a man who, without respect to your knighthood, my high office or the sanctity of either, would clear his house of us, and send us to lodge with the larks, though the hour were midnight. And be careful how you look on Rowena, whom he cherishes with the most jealous care. And he take the least alarm in that quarter.
We are but lost men. It is said he banished his only son from his family for lifting his eyes in the way of affection towards this beauty. Who may be worshipped, it seems, at a distance, but is not to be approached with other thoughts than such as we bring to the shrine of the Blessed Virgin? Well, you have said enough, answered the Templar. I will for a night put on the needful restraint, and deport me as meekly as a maiden. But as for the fear of his expelling us by violence, myself and his squires, with Hamet and Abdallah, will warrant you against that disgrace. Doubt not that we shall be strong enough to make good our quarters." "'We must not let it come so far,' answered the prior. "'But here is the clown's sunken cross, and the night is so dark that we can hardly see which of the roads we are to follow.
He bid us turn, I think, to the left.' "'To the right.' said Brian, to the best of my remembrance. "'To the left, certainly the left. I remember his pointing with his wooden sword.' "'Aye, but he held his sword in his left hand, and so pointed across his body with it,' said the Templar. Each maintained his opinion with sufficient obstinacy, as is usual in all such cases.
The attendants were appealed to, but they had not been near enough to hear Wamba's directions. At length, Brian remarked what had first escaped him in the twilight. Here is some one either asleep or lying dead at the foot of this cross. Hugo, stir him with the butt-end of thy lance. This was no sooner done than the figure arose, exclaiming in good French, Whosoever thou art, it is discourteous in you to disturb my thoughts. "'We did but wish to ask you,' said the prior, "'the road to the Rotherwood, the abode of Cedric the Saxon.' "'I myself am bound thither,' replied the stranger, "'and if I had a horse I would be your guide, "'for the way is somewhat intricate, "'though perfectly well known to me.' "'Thou shalt have both thanks and reward, my friend,' said the prior, "'if thou wilt bring us to Cedric's in safety.' And he caused one of his attendants to mount his own lead horse, and give that upon which he had hitherto ridden to the stranger, who was to serve for a guide.
Their conductor pursued an opposite road from that which Wamba had recommended for the purpose of misleading them. The path soon led deeper into the woodland, and crossed more than one brook, the approach to which was rendered perilous by the marches through which it flowed. But the stranger seemed to know as if by instinct the soundest ground and the safest points of passage, and by dint of caution and attention brought the party safely into a wider avenue than any they had yet seen, and, pointing to a large, low, irregular building at the upper extremity, he said to the prior, "'Yonder is Rotherwood, the dwelling of Cedric the Saxon.' This was a joyful intimation to Eimer, whose nerves were none of the strongest, and who had suffered such agitation and alarm in the course of passing through the dangerous bogs, that he had not yet had the curiosity to ask his guide a single question.
Finding himself now at his ease and near shelter, his curiosity began to awake, and he demanded of the guide who and what he was.
A palmer just returned from the Holy Land, was the answer.
You had better have tarried there to fight for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, said the Templar. True, Reverend Sir Knight, answered the palmer, to whom the appearance of the Templar seemed perfectly familiar. But when those who are under oath to recover the holy city are found traveling at such distance from the scene of their duties, can you wonder that a peaceful peasant like me should decline the task which they have abandoned?
The Templar would have made an angry reply, but was interrupted by the prior, who again expressed his astonishment that their guide, after such a long absence, should be so perfectly acquainted with the passes of the forest.
I was born a native of these parts, answered their guide, and as he made the reply they stood before the mansion of Cedric, a low, irregular building, containing several courtyards or inclosures, extending over a considerable space of ground, and which, though its size argued the inhabitant to be a person of wealth, differed entirely from the tall, turreted, and castellated buildings in which the Norman nobility resided. and which had become the universal style of architecture throughout England. Rotherwood was not, however, without defenses. No habitation in that disturbed period could have been so without the risk of being plundered and burnt before the next morning. A deep foss or ditch was drawn round the whole building, and filled with water from a neighboring stream.
A double stockade, or palisade, composed of pointed beams, which the adjacent forests supplied, defended the outer and inner bank of the trench. There was an entrance from the west through the outer stockade, which communicated by a drawbridge with a similar opening in the interior defenses. Some precautions had been taken to place those entrances under the protection of protecting angles, by which they might be flanked in case of need by archers or slingers. Before this entrance, the Templar wound his horn loudly, for the rain, which had long threatened, began now to descend with great violence.
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Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott.
Chapter Three.
Then, sad relief, from the bleak coast that hears the German ocean roar, deep-blooming, strong, and yellow-haired, the blue-eyed Saxon came.
Thompson's Liberty.
In a hall, the height of which was greatly disproportioned to its extreme length and width, A long oaken table formed of planks rough-hewn from the forest, and which had scarcely received any polish, stood ready prepared for the evening meal of Cedric the Saxon. The roof, composed of beams and rafters, had nothing to divide the apartment from the sky, excepting the planking and thatch. There was a huge fireplace at either end of the hall, but as the chimneys were constructed in a very clumsy manner, At least as much of the smoke found its way into the apartment as escaped by the proper vent. The constant vapor which this occasioned had polished the rafters and beams of the low-browed hall by encrusting them with a black varnish of soot.
On the sides of the apartment hung implements of war and of the chaise, and there were at each corner folding-doors, which gave access to other parts of the extensive building. The other appointments of the mansion partook of the rude simplicity of the Saxon period, which Cedric piqued himself upon maintaining. The floor was composed of earth mixed with lime, trodden into a hard substance, such as is often employed in flooring of our modern barns. For about one quarter of the length of the apartment the floor was raised by a step. And this space, which was called the dais, was occupied only by the principal members of the family and visitors of distinction. For this purpose, a table richly covered with scarlet cloth was placed transversely across the platform, from the middle of which ran the longer and lower board, at which the domestics and inferior persons fed, down towards the bottom of the hall.
The whole resembled the form of the letter T, Or some of those ancient dinner-tables, which, arranged on the same principles, may be still seen in the antique colleges of Oxford or Cambridge. Massive chairs and settles of carved oak were placed upon the dais, and over these seats and the more elevated table was fastened a canopy of cloth, which served in some degree to protect the dignitaries who occupied that distinguished station from the weather, and especially from the rain, which in some places found its way through the ill-constructed roof. The walls of this upper end of the hall, as far as the dais extended, were covered with hangings or curtains, and upon the floor there was a carpet, both of which were adorned with some attempts at tapestry or embroidery, executed with brilliant or rather gaudy colouring.
Over the lower range of the table The roof, as we have noticed, had no covering. The rough plastered walls were left bare, and the rude earthen floor was uncarpeted. The board was uncovered by a cloth, and rude massive benches supplied the place of chairs. In the centre of the upper table were placed two chairs, more elevated than the rest, for the master and mistress of the family, who presided over the scene of hospitality, and from doing so derived their Saxon title of honour, which signifies the dividers of the bread. To each of these chairs was added a footstool, curiously carved and inlaid with ivory, which mark of distinction was peculiar to them. One of these seats was at present occupied by Cedric the Saxon, who, though but in rank a thane, or, as the Normans called him, a Franklin, felt at the delay of his evening meal an irritable impatience which might have become an alderman, whether of ancient or of modern times.
It appeared, indeed, from the countenance of this proprietor, that he was of a frank but hasty and choleric temper. He was not above the middle stature, but broad-shouldered, long-armed, and powerfully made, like one accustomed to endure the fatigue of war or of the chase. His face was broad, with large blue eyes, open and frank features, fine teeth, and a well-formed head, altogether expressive of that sort of good-humour which often lodges with a sudden and hasty temper. Pride and jealousy there was in his eye, for his life had been spent in asserting rites which were constantly liable to invasion, and the prompt, fiery, and resolute disposition of the man had been kept constantly upon the alert by the circumstances of his situation.
His long yellow hair was equally divided on the top of his head and upon his brow, and combed down on each side to the length of his shoulders. It had but little tendency to grey, although Cedric was approaching to his sixtieth year. His dress was a tunic of forest green, furred at the throat, and cuffs with what was called miniver, a kind of fur inferior in quality to ermine, and formed, it is believed, of the skin of the grey squirrel. This doublet hung unbuttoned over a close dress of scarlet, which sate tight to his body. He had breeches of the same, but they did not reach below the lower part of the thigh, leaving the knee exposed. His feet had sandals of the same fashion with the peasants, but of finer materials, and secured in the front with golden clasps.
He had bracelets of gold upon his arms, and a broad collar of the same precious metal around his neck. About his waist he wore a richly studded belt, in which was stuck a short, straight, two-edged sword, with a sharp point, so disposed as to hang almost perpendicularly by his side. Behind his seat was hung a scarlet cloth cloak lined with fur, and a cap of the same materials, richly embroidered, which completed the dress of the opulent landholder when he chose to go forth. A short boar-spear with a broad and bright steel head also reclined against the back of the chair, which served him when he walked abroad for the purposes of a staff or of a weapon, as chance might require.
Several domestics, whose dress held various proportions betwixt the richness of their masters and the coarse and simple attire of Goethe, the swineherd, watched the looks and waited the commands of the Saxon dignitary. Two or three servants of a superior order stood behind their master upon the dais. The rest occupied the lower part of the hall. Other attendants there were of a different description. Two or three large and shaggy greyhounds, such as were then employed in hunting the stag and the wolf. As many slowhounds of a large bony breed, with thick necks, large heads, and long ears. And one or two of the smaller dogs, now called terriers, which waited with impatience the arrival of the supper.
But, with a sagacious knowledge of physiognomy peculiar to their race, forbore to intrude upon the moody silence of their master, apprehensive probably of a small white truncheon which lay by Cedric's trencher for the purpose of repelling the advances of his four-legged dependents. One grisly old wolf-dog alone, with the liberty of an indulged favorite, had planted himself close by the chair of state, and occasionally ventured to solicit notice by putting his large, hairy head upon his master's knee, or pushing his nose into his hand. Even he was repelled by the stern command, Down, Balder, Down! I am not in the humor for foolery.
In fact, Cedric, as we have observed, was in no very placid state of mind. The lady Rowena, who had been absent to attend an evening mass at a distant church, had but just returned, and was changing her garments, which had been wedded by the storm. There were as yet no tidings of Girth and his charge, which should long since have been driven home from the forest. And such was the insecurity of the period as to render it probable that the delay might be explained by some depredation of the outlaws, with whom the adjacent forest abounded, or by the violence of some neighboring baron whose consciousness of strength made him equally negligent of the laws of property. The matter was of consequence, for great part of the domestic wealth of the Saxon proprietors consisted in numerous herds of swine, especially in forest land, where those animals easily found their food.
Besides these subjects of anxiety, The saxon thane was impatient for the presence of his favorite clown, Wamba, whose jests, such as they were, served for a sort of seasoning to his evening meal, and to the deep draughts of ale and wine with which he was in the habit of accompanying it. Add to all this, Cedric had fasted since noon, and his usual supper hour was long past, a cause of irritation common to country squires, both in ancient and modern times. His displeasure was expressed in broken sentences, partly muttered to himself, partly addressed to the domestics who stood around, and particularly to his cup-bearer, who offered him from time to time, as a sedative, a silver goblet filled with wine.
Why tarries the Lady Rowena?
She is but changing her head-gear. Replied a female attendant, with as much confidence as the favourite lady's maid usually answers the master of a modern family. You would not wish her to sit down to the banquet in her hood and kirtle, and no lady within the shire can be quicker in arraying herself than my mistress. This undeniable argument produced a sort of acquiescent humph on the part of the Saxon with the addition, I wish her devotion may choose fair weather for the next visit to St. John's Kirk. But what in the name of ten devils? continued he, turning to the cup-bearer, and raising his voice as if happy to have found a channel into which he might divert his indignation without fear or control.
What in the name of ten devils keeps Girth so long a field? I suppose we shall have an evil account of the herd. He was wont to be a faithful and cautious drudge. And I had destined him for something better. Perchance I might even have made him one of my warders.
Oswald, the cupbearer, modestly suggested that it was scarce an hour since the tolling of the curfew, an ill-chosen apology since it turned upon a topic so harsh to Saxon ears. "'The foul fiend!' exclaimed Cedric. "'Take the curfew bell and the tyrannical bastard by whom it was devised, And the heartless slave who names it with a Saxon tongue to a Saxon ear, the curfew, he added, pausing. Ay, the curfew, which compels true men to extinguish their lights, that thieves and robbers may work their deeds in darkness. Ay, the curfew. Reginald fronteboeuf and Philippe de Malvoisin know the use of the curfew as well as William the Bastard himself, or e'er a Norman adventurer that fought at Hastings. I shall hear, I guess, that my property has been swept off to save from starving the hungry Bandidi, whom they cannot support but by theft and robbery.
My faithful slave is murdered, and my goods are taken for a prey, and Wamba—where is Wamba? Said not some one he had gone forth with girth.
Oswald replied in the affirmative. Aye! Why, this is better and better. He is carried off too, the Saxon fool, to serve the Norman lord. Fools are we all indeed that serve them, and fitter subjects for their scorn and laughter than if we were born with but half our wits. But I will be avenged, he added, starting from his chair in impatience at the supposed injury, and catching hold of his boar-spear. I will go with my complaint to the great council. I have friends. I have followers. Man to man will I appeal the Norman to the lists. Let him come in his plate and his mail, and all that can render cowardice bold. I have sent such a javelin as this through a stronger fence than three of their war shields.
Haply they think me old, but they shall find, alone and childless as I am, the blood of Heerward is in the veins of Cedric. Ah, Wilfred, Wilfred! he exclaimed in a lower tone. Couldst thou have ruled thine unreasonable passion? Thy father had not been left in his age like the solitary oak that throws out its shattered and unprotected branches against the full sweep of the tempest.
The reflection seemed to conjure into sadness his irritated feelings. Replacing his javelin, he resumed his seat, bent his looks downward, and appeared to be absorbed in melancholy reflection. From his musing, Cedric was suddenly awakened by the blast of a horn, which was replied to by the clamorous yells and barking of all the dogs in the hall, and some twenty or thirty which were quartered in other parts of the building. It cost some exercise of the white truncheon, well seconded by the exertions of the domestics, to silence this canine clamor. "'To the gate, knaves,' said the saxon hastily, as soon as the tumult was so much appeased that the dependants could hear his voice. "'See what tidings that horn tells us of, to announce I wean some herership and robbery which has been done upon my lands.' Returning in less than three minutes, a warder announced.
That the prior aimer of Jorvaux and the good knight Brian de Bois-Gilbert, commander of the valiant and venerable order of Knights Templars, with a small retinue, requested hospitality and lodging for the knight, being on their way to a tournament which was to be held not far from the Ashby de la Zouche on the second day from the present. "'Aimer! The prior aimer!' Brian de Bois-Gilbert, muttered Cedric. Normans both. But Norman or Saxon, the hospitality of Rotherwood must not be impeached. They are welcome, since they have chosen to halt. More welcome would they have been to ridden further on their way. But it were unworthy to murmur for a night's lodging and a night's food. In the quality of guests, at least, even Normans must suppress their insolence.
"'Go, Hundebert,' he added to a sort of major-domo, who stood behind him with a white wand. Take six of the attendants and introduce the strangers to the guests' lodging. Look after their horses and mules, and see their train lack nothing. Let them have change of vestments if they require it, and fire, and water to wash, and wine, and ale, and bid the cooks add what they hastily can to our evening meal. And let it be put on the board when those strangers are ready to share it. Say to them, Hundbert, that Cedric would himself bid them welcome, but he is under a vow never to step more than three steps from the dais of his own hall to meet any who shares not the blood of Saxon royalty. Begone, see them carefully tended.
Let them not say in their pride the Saxon churl has shown at once his poverty and his avarice.
The major-domo departed with several attendants to execute his master's commands. The prior aimer, repeated Cedric, looking to Oswald. The brother, if I mistake not, of Gilles de Malveur, now Lord of Middleham?
Oswald made a respectful sign of assent. His brother sits in the seat, and usurps the patrimony of a better race, the race of Ulfgar of Middleham. But what Norman lord doth not the same? This prior is, they say, a free and jovial priest, who loves the wine-cup and the bugle-horn better than the bell and book. Good! Let him come, he shall be welcome. How named ye the Templar? Brian de Bois-Gilbert. Bois-Gilbert? said Cedric, still in the musing, half-arguing tone which the habit of living among dependents had accustomed him to employ, and which resembled a man who talks to himself rather than to those around him. That name has been spread wide both for good and evil. They say he is valiant as the bravest of his order, but stained with their usual vices—pride, arrogance, cruelty, and voluptuousness.
A hard-hearted man who knows neither fear of earth nor awe of heaven, so say the few warriors who have returned from Palestine. Well, it is but for one night. He shall be welcome too. Oswald, broach the oldest wine-cask. Place the best mead, the mightiest ale, the richest morat, the most sparkling cider, the most odoriferous pigments upon the board. Fill the largest horns. Templars and abbots love good wines and good measure. Elgitha, let thy lady Rowena know we shall not this night expect her in the hall, unless such be her special pleasure. But it will be her especial pleasure, answered Elgitha, with great readiness, for she is ever desirous to hear the latest news from Palestine.
Cedric darted at the forward damsel a glance of hasty resentment. But Rowena and whatever belonged to her were privileged and secure from his anger. He only replied, Silent maiden, thy tongue outruns thy discretion. Say my message to thy mistress, and let her do her pleasure. Here, at least, the descendant of Alfred still reigns a princess. Elgitha left the apartment. Palestine, repeated the Saxon. Palestine! How many ears are turned to the tales which dissolute crusaders or hypocritical pilgrims bring from that fatal land? I too might ask, I too might inquire. I too might listen with a beating heart to fables. which the wily strollers devise to cheat us into hospitality. But no, the Son who has disobeyed me is no longer mine, nor will I concern myself more for his fate than for that of the most worthless among the millions that ever shaped the cross on their shoulder, rushed into excess and bloodguiltness, and called it an accomplishment of the will of God.
He knit his brows and fixed his eyes for an instant on the ground. As he raised them, the folding-doors at the bottom of the hall were cast wide, and preceded by the maitre-domo with his wand, and four domestics bearing blazing torches. The guests of the evening entered the apartment.
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With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled, and the proud steer was on the marble spread. With fire prepared they deal the morsels round, wine rosy bright the brimming goblets crowned. Dispos'd apart, Ulysses shares the treat. A trivet table and ignobler seat. The prince assigns.
Odyssey. Book XX.
The prior aimer had taken the opportunity afforded him of changing his riding-robe for one of yet more costly materials, over which he bore a cope, curiously embroidered. Besides the massive golden signet-ring which marked his exclesiastical dignity, his fingers, though contrary to the cannon, were loaded with precious gems. His sandals were of the finest leather, which was imported from Spain. His beard, trimmed to as small dimensions as his order would possibly permit, and his shaven crown concealed by a scarlet cap, richly embroidered.
The appearance of the knight templar was also changed, and though less studiously bedecked with ornament, His dress was as rich, and his appearance far more commanding than that of his companion. He had exchanged his shirt of mail for an under-tunic of dark purple silk, garnished with furs, over which flowed his long robe of spotless white in ample folds. The eight-pointed cross of his order was cut on the shoulder of his mantle in black velvet. The high cap no longer invested his brows, which were only shaded by short and thick curly hair of raven blackness, corresponding to his unusually swart complexion.
Nothing could be more gracefully majestic than his step and manner, had they not been marked by a predominant air of haughtiness, easily acquired by the exercise of unresisted authority.
These two dignified persons were followed by their respective attendants, and at a more humble distance by their guide, whose figure had nothing more remarkable than it derived from the usual weeds of a pilgrim.
A cloak or mantle of coarse black serge enveloped his whole body. It was in shape something like the cloak of a modern hussar, having similar flaps for covering the arms, and was called a sclavin. or Sclavonian. Coarse sandals bound with thongs on his bare feet, a broad and shadowy hat with cockle-shells stitched on its brim, and a long staff shod with iron to the upper end of which was attached a branch of palm completed the palmer's attire. He followed modestly the last of the train which entered the hall, and, observing that the lower table Scarce afforded room sufficient for the domestics of Cedric, and the retinue of his guests. He withdrew to a settled place beside, and almost under, one of the large chimneys, and seemed to employ himself in drying his garments, until the retreat of some one should make room at the board, or the hospitality of the steward should supply him with refreshments in the place he had chosen a part.
Cedric rose to receive his guests with an air of dignified hospitality, and, descending from the dais, or elevated part of his hall, made three steps towards them, and then awaited their approach. "'I grieve,' he said, Reverend Pryor, "'that my vow binds me to advance no farther upon this floor of my father's, even to receive such guests as you and this valiant knight of the Holy Temple.' But my steward has expounded to you the cause of my seeming discourtesy. Let me also pray that you will excuse my speaking to you in my native tongue, and that you will reply in the same if your knowledge of it permits. If not, I sufficiently understand Norman to follow your meaning."
Vows, said the abbot, must be unloosed, worthy Franklin, or permit me rather to say— Worthy Thane, although the title is antiquated. Vows are the knots which tie us to heaven. They are the cords which bind the sacrifice to the horns of the altar, and are, therefore, as I said before, to be unloosed and discharged, unless our Holy Mother Church shall pronounce the contrary. And respecting language, I willingly hold communication in that spoken by my respected grandmother, Hilda of the Middleham, who died in odor of sanctity. Little short, if we may presume to say so, of her glorious name-saint, the blessed Saint Hilda of Whitby. God be gracious to her soul.
When the prior had ceased what he meant as a conciliatory harangue, his companion said briefly and emphatically, I speak ever French, the language of King Richard and his nobles. But I understand English sufficiently to communicate with the natives of the country. Cedric darted at the speaker one of those hasty and impatient glances, which comparisons between the two rival nations seldom failed to call forth. But, recollecting the duties of hospitality, he suppressed further show of resentment, and, motioning with his hand, caused his guest to assume two seats a little lower than his own, but placed close beside him, and gave a signal that the evening meal should be placed upon the board. While the attendants hastened to obey Cedric's commands, his eye distinguished Girth, the swineherd, who, with his companion Wamba, had just entered the hall.
"'Send these loitering knaves up hither,' said the Saxon impatiently. And when the culprits came before the dais—' How comes it, villains, that you have loitered abroad so late as this? Hast thou brought home thy charge, Sir Agurth, or hast thou left them to robbers and marauders? The herd is safe, so please ye, said Girth. But it does not please me, thou knave, said Cedric, that I should be made to suppose otherwise for two hours, and sit here devising vengeance against my neighbours, for wrongs they have not done me. I tell thee Shackles and the prison-house shall punish the next offence of this kind. Goethe, knowing his master's irritable temper, attempted no exculpation. But the jester, who could presume upon Cedric's tolerance, by virtue of his privileges as a fool, replied for them both.
"'In troth, uncle Cedric, you are neither wise nor reasonable to-night.' "'How, sir?' said his master. You shall to the porter's lodge and taste of the discipline there if you give your foolery much license. First, let your wisdom tell me, said Wamba. Is it just and reasonable to punish one person for the fault of another? Certainly not, fool, answered Cedric. Then why should you shackle poor Girt, uncle, for the fault of his dog-fangs? For I dare be sworn we lost not a minute by the way, when we had got our herd together, which Fangs did not manage until we heard the vesper-bell. "'Then hang up Fangs,' said Cedric, turning hastily towards the swine-herd. "'If the fault is his, and get thee another dog.' "'Under favour, uncle,' said the jester.
that were still somewhat on the bow-hand of fair justice, for it was no fault of Fang's that he was lame and could not gather the herd, but the fault of those that struck off two of his fore-claws, an operation which, if the poor fellow had been consulted, he would scarce have given his voice. "'And who dared to lame an animal which belonged to my bondsman?' said the Saxon, kindling in wrath. "'Mary! that did old Hubert!' said Wamba. Sir Philip de Malvoisin's keeper of the chase. He caught Fang strolling in the forest, and said he chased the deer contrary to his master's right as the warden of the walk. "'The foul fiend take Malvoisin,' answered the Saxon, "'and his keeper both. I will teach them that the wood was deforested in terms of the great forest charter.
But enough of this. Go to, knave, go to thy place. And thou, Get thee another dog, and should the keeper dare to touch it, I will mar his archery. The curse of a coward on my head, if I strike not off the forefinger of his right hand. He shall draw bowstring no more. I crave your pardon, my worthy guests. I am beset here with neighbors that match your infidels, Sir Knight, in Holy Land. But your humbly fare is before you. Feed, and let welcome make amends for hard fare. The feast, however, which was spread upon the board, needed no apologies from the lord of the mansion. Swine's flesh, dressed in several modes, appeared on the lower part of the board, and also that of fowls, deer, goats and hares, and various kinds of fish, together with huge loaves and cakes of bread, and sundry confections made of fruits and honey.
The smaller sorts of wild fow, of which there was abundance, were not served up in platters, but brought in upon small wooden spits or brooches, and offered by the pages and domestics, who bore them to each guest in succession, who cut from them such a portion as he pleased. Beside each person of rank was placed a goblet of silver. The lower board was accommodated with large drinking-horns. When the repast was about to commence, the major-domo, or steward, suddenly raising his hand, said aloud, Forbear! Place for the Lady Rowena!
A side-door at the upper end of the hall now opened behind the banquet-table, and Rowena, followed by four female attendants, entered the apartment. Cedric, though surprised, and perhaps not altogether agreeably so, at his ward appearing in public on this occasion, hastened to meet her, and to conduct her with respectful ceremony to the elevated seat at his own right hand, appropriated to the lady of the mansion. All stood up to receive her, and, replying to their courtesy by a mute gesture of salutation, she moved gracefully forward to assume her place at the board. Ere she had time to do so, the Templar whispered to the prior, "'I shall wear no collar of gold of yours at the tournament. The Chien wine is your own.' "'Said I not so?' answered the prior.
"'But check your rapture as the Franklin observes you.' Unheeding this remonstrance, and accustomed only to act upon the immediate impulse of his own wishes, Brian de Bois-Gilbert kept his eyes riveted on the Saxon beauty. More striking, perhaps, to his imagination, because of differing wildly from those of the eastern sultanas. Formed in the best proportions of her sex, Rowena was tall in stature, yet not so much as to attract observation on account of superior height. Her complexion was exquisitely fair, but the noble cast of her head and features prevented the insipidity which sometimes attaches to fair beauties. Her clear blue eye, which sate enshrined beneath a graceful eyebrow of brown, sufficiently marked to give expression to the forehead, seemed capable to kindle as well as melt, to command as well as to beseech.
If mildness were the more natural expression of such a combination of features, it was plain that in the present instance the exercise of habitual superiority And the reception of general homage had given to the Saxon lady a loftier character, which mingled with and qualified that bestowed by nature. Her profuse hair, of a color betwixt brown and flaxen, was arranged in a fanciful and graceful manner, in numerous ringlets, to form which art had probably aided nature. These locks were braided with gems, And being worn at full length intimated the noble birth and free-born condition of the maiden. A golden chain to which was attached a small reliquary of the same metal hung around her neck. She wore bracelets on her arms, which were bare.
Her dress was an under-gown and kirtle of pale sea-green silk, over which hung a long, loose robe, which reached to the ground. Having very wide sleeves which came down, however, very little below the elbow.
This robe was crimson, and manufactured out of the very finest wool. A veil of silk, interwoven with gold, was attached to the upper part of it, which could be, at the wearer's pleasure, either drawn over the face and bosom after the Spanish fashion, or disposed as a sort of drapery around the shoulders. When Rowena perceived the night templar's eyes bent on her with an ardor that, compared with the dark caverns under which they moved, gave them the effect of lighted charcoal, she drew with dignity the veil around her face, as an intimation that the determined freedom of his glance was disagreeable. Cedric saw the motion and its cause. "'Sir templar,' said he, The cheeks of our Saxon maidens have seen too little of the sun to enable them to bear the fixed glance of a crusader.
"'If I have offended,' replied Sir Brian, "'I crave your pardon, that is, I crave the Lady Rowena's pardon, for my humility will carry me no lower.' "'The Lady Rowena,' said the prior, has punished us all in chastising the boldness of my friend. Let me hope she will be less cruel to the splendid train which are to meet at the tournament. Our going thither, said Cedric, is uncertain. I love not these vanities which were unknown to my fathers when England was free. Let us hope nevertheless, said the prior, our company may determine you to travel thitherward. When the roads are so unsafe, the escort of Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert is not to be despised. "'Sir Prior,' answered the Saxon, "'wheresoever I have travelled in this land, I have hitherto found myself, with the assistance of my good sword and faithful followers, in no respect needful of other aid.' At present, if we indeed journey to Ashby de la Souche, we do so with my noble neighbor and countryman, Athelstane of Konigsberg, and with such a train as would set outlaws and feudal enemies at defiance.
I drink to you, Sir Pryor, in this cup of wine, which I trust your taste will approve, and I thank you for your courtesy. Should you be so rigid in adhering to monastic rule, he added, As to prefer your acid preparation of milk, I hope you will not strain courtesy to do me reason.
Nay, said the priest, laughing. It is only in our abbey that we confine ourselves to the lac dulce, or the lac acidum, either. Conversing with the world, we use the world's fashion, and therefore I answer your pledge in this honest wine, and leave the weaker liquor to my lay brother. And I— said the Templar, filling his goblet. Drink, Vassai, to the fair Rowena, for since her namesake introduced the word into England, has never been one more worthy of such a tribute. By my faith, I could pardon the unhappy Fodgern, had he half the cause that we now witness for making shipwreck of his honour and his kingdom. I will spare your courtesy, Sir Knight. said Rowena, with dignity, and without unveiling herself.
Or rather, I will tax it so far as to require of you the latest news from Palestine, a theme more agreeable to our English ears than the compliments which your French breeding teaches. "'I have little of importance to say, lady,' answered Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert, excepting the confirmed tidings of a truce with Saladin. He was interrupted by Wamba, who had taken his appropriated seat upon a chair, the back of which was decorated with two asses'-ears, and which was placed about two steps behind that of his master, who, from time to time, supplied him with victuals from his own trencher. A favour, however, which the jester shared with the favourite dogs, of whom, as we have already noticed, there were several in attendance.
Here sat Wamba with a small table before him, his heels tucked up against the bar of the chair, his cheeks sucked up so as to make his jaws resemble a pair of nutcrackers, and his eyes half shut, yet watching with alertness every opportunity to exercise his licensed foolery. "'These truces with the infidels!' he exclaimed, without caring how suddenly he interrupted the stately Templar. Make an old man of me. "'Go to, knave. How so?' said Cedric, his features prepared to receive favourably the expected jest. "'Because,' answered Wamba, "'I remember three of them in my day, each of which was to endure for the course of fifty years, so that, by computation, I must be at least a hundred and fifty years old.
"'I will warrant you against dying of old age, however,' said the Templar, who now recognized his friend of the forest. "'I will assure you from all deaths but a violent one, if you give such directions to wayfarers as you did this night to the Prior and me.' "'How sirrah,' said Cedric. "'Miss direct travellers, "'We must have you whipped. You are at least as much rogue as fool.'" "'I pray thee, uncle,' answered the jester, "'let my folly for once protect my roguery. I did but make a mistake between my right hand and my left, and he might have pardoned a greater who took a fool for his counsellor and guide.'" Conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of the porter's page, who announced that there was a stranger at the gate, Imploring admittance and hospitality.
Admit him," said Cedric. Be he who or what he may, a knight like that which roars without compels even wild animals to herd with tame, and to seek the protection of man, their mortal foe, rather than perish by the elements. Let his wants be ministered to with all care. Look to it, Oswald. And the steward left the banqueting-hall to see the commands of his patron obeyed.
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5 05 - Chapter 5 24:12
V. Ivanhoe. Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. Chapter Five.
Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? Merchant of Venice.
Oswald, returning, whispered into the ear of his master, "'It is a Jew who calls himself Isaac of York. Is it fit I should marshal him into the hall?' "'Let Gerth do thine office, Oswald,' said Wamba, with his usual effrontery. "'The swineherd will be a fit usher to the Jew.' "'St. Mary,' said the abbot, crossing himself, "'an unbelieving Jew, and admitted into this presence?' A dog Jew echoed the Templar, to approach a defender of the Holy Sepulchre. By my faith, said Wamba, it would seem the Templars love the Jews' inheritance better than they do their company. Peace, my worthy guests, said Cedric. My hospitality must not be bounded by your dislikes. If heaven bore with the whole nation of stiff-necked unbelievers for more years than a layman can number, we may endure the presence of one Jew for a few hours.
But I constrain no man to converse or to feed with him. Let him have a board and a morsel apart, unless, he said, smiling, these turbaned strangers will admit his society. Sir Franklin, answered the Templar, My Saracen slaves are true Muslims, and scorn as much as any Christian to hold intercourse with a Jew. "'Now, in faith,' said Wamba, "'I cannot see that the worshippers of Mahound and Termagant have so greatly the advantage over the people once chosen of Heaven.' "'He shall sit with thee, Wamba,' said Cedric. "'The fool and the knave will be well met.' "'The fool?' answered Womba, raising the relics of a gammon of bacon, will take care to erect a bulwark against the nave. Hush, said Cedric, for here he comes.
Introduced with little ceremony, and advancing with fear and hesitation, and many a bow of deep humility, a tall, thin, old man, who, however, had lost by the habit of stooping much of his actual height, approached the lower end of the board. His features, keen and regular, with an aquiline nose and gray hair and beard, would have been considered as handsome had they not been the marks of a physiognomy peculiar to a race, which during those dark ages was alike detested by the credulous and prejudiced vulgar and persecuted by the greedy and rapacious nobility, and who, perhaps owing to that very hatred and persecution, had adopted a national character in which there was much, to say the least, mean and unamiable.
The Jews' dress, which appeared to have suffered considerably from the storm, was a plain russet cloak, of many folds, covering a dark purple tunic. He had large boots lined with fur and a belt around his waist, which sustained a small knife together with a case for writing materials, but no weapon. He wore a high square yellow cap of a peculiar fashion, assigned to his nation to distinguish them from Christians, and which he doffed with great humility at the door of the hall. The reception of this person in the hall of Cedric the Saxon was such as might have satisfied the most prejudiced enemy of the tribes of Israel. Cedric himself coldly nodded in answer to the Jews' repeated salutations, and signed him to take the place at the lower end of the table, where, however, no one offered to make room for him.
On the contrary, as he passed along the phial, Casting a timid, supplicating glance, and turning towards each of those who occupied the lower end of the board, the Saxon domestics squared their shoulders, and continued to devour their supper with great perseverance, paying not the least attention to the wants of the new guest. The attendants of the abbot crossed themselves with looks of pious horror, and the very heathen Saracens As Isaac drew near them, curled up their whiskers with indignation, and laid their hands on their poniards, as if ready to rid themselves by the most desperate means of the apprehended contamination of his nearer approach. Probably the same motives which induced Cedric to open his hall to this son of a rejected people would have made him insist on his attendance receiving Isaac with more courtesy.
But the abbot had at this moment engaged him in a most interesting discussion on the breed and character of his favorite hounds, which he would not have interrupted for matters of much greater importance than that of a Jew going to bed supperless. While Isaac thus stood an outcast in the present society, like his people among the nations, looking in vain for welcome or resting-place, the pilgrim who sat by the chimney took compassion upon him, And resigned his seat, saying briefly, Old man, my garments are dried, my hunger is appeased. Thou art both wet and fasting. So saying, he gathered together and brought to a flame the decaying brands which lay scattered on the ample hearth, took from the larger board a mess of pottage and seethed kid, and placed it upon the small table at which he had himself supped, and, without waiting the Jew's thanks, went to the other side of the hall, whether from unwillingness to hold more close communication with the object of his benevolence, or from a wish to draw near to the upper end of the table, seemed uncertain.
Had there been painters in those days capable to execute such a subject, the Jew, as he bent his withered form and expanded his chilled and trembling hands over the fire, would have formed no bad emblematical personification of the winter season. Having dispelled the cold, he turned eagerly to the smoking mess which was placed before him, and ate with a haste and an apparent relish that seemed to betoken long abstinence from food. Meanwhile, the abbot and Cedric continued their discourse upon hunting. The lady Rowena seemed engaged in conversation with one of her attendant females. And the haughty Templar, whose eyes seemed to wander from the Jew to the Saxon beauty, resolved in his mind thoughts which appeared deeply to interest him.
"'I marvel, worthy Cedric,' said the abbot, as their discourse proceeded, "'that, great as your predilection is for your own manly language, You do not receive the Norman French into your favour, so far at least as the mystery of woodcraft and hunting is concerned. Surely no tongue is so rich in the various phrases which the field sports demand, or furnishes means to the experienced woodman so well to express his jovial art. "'Good faithful Aimer,' said the Saxon, "'be it known to you,' I care not for those over-sea refinements, without which I can well enough take my pleasure in the woods. I can wind my horn, though I call not the blast either a ritchit or a mort. I can cheer my dogs on the prey, and I can flay and quarter the animal when it is brought down, without using the new-fangled jargon of cur, arbor, nombres, and all the babble of the fabulous Sir Tristram.
The French, said the Templar, Raising his voice with the presumptuousness and authoritative tone which he used upon all occasions, is not only the natural language of the chase, but that of love and of war, in which ladies should be won and enemies defied.
Pledge me in a cup of wine, Sir Templer, said Cedric, and fill another to the abbot, while I look back some thirty years to tell you another tale. As Cedric the Saxon then was, his plain English tale needed no garnish from French troubadours when it was told in the ear of beauty, and the field of Northallerton upon the day of the Holy Standard could tell whether the Saxon war-cry was not heard as far within the ranks of the Scottish hosts as the cri de guerre of the boldest Norman baron. To the memory of the brave who fought there, pledge me, my guests. He drank deep, and went on with increasing warmth. Ay, that was a day of cleaving of shields, when a hundred banners were bent forward over the heads of the valiant, and blood flowed round like water, and death was held better than flight.
A Saxon bard had called it a feast of the swords, a gathering of the eagles to the prey, the clashing of bills upon shield and helmet, The shouting of battle more joyful than the clamor of a bridle. "'But our bards are no more,' he said. "'Our deeds are lost in those of another race. Our language, our very name, is hastening to decay, and none mourns for it save one solitary old man. Cup-bearer, nay, fill the goblets. To the strong in arms, Sir Templer, be there race or language What it will, who now bear them best in Palestine among the champions of the cross. It becomes not one wearing this badge to answer, said Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert, yet to whom, besides the sworn champions of the Holy Sepulchre, can the palm be assigned among the champions of the cross?
To the Knights Hospitallers, said the abbot, I have a brother of their order. I impeach not their fame. said the Templer. "'Nevertheless,' I think, friend Cedric," said Wamba, interfering, "'that had Richard of the Lion's Heart been wise enough to have taken a fool's advice, he might have stayed at home with his merry Englishmen, and left the recovery of Jerusalem to those same knights who had most to do with the loss of it. "'Were there, then, none in the English army?' said the lady Rowena. Whose names are worthy to be mentioned with the knights of the temple and of St. John? Forgive me, lady, replied de Bois-Gilbert. The English monarch did indeed bring to Palestine a host of gallant warriors, second only to those whose breasts have been the unceasing balewark of that blessed land.
Second to none, said the pilgrim. who had stood near enough to hear, and had listened to this conversation with marked impatience, all turned toward this spot from whence this unexpected asseveration was heard. "'I say,' repeated the pilgrim in a firm and strong voice, "'that the English chivalry were second to none who ever drew sword in defense of the Holy Land. I say besides, for I saw it, That King Richard himself and five of his knights held a tournament after the taking of St. John d'acre, as challengers against all comers. I say that, on that day, each knight ran three courses, and cast to the ground three antagonists. I add that seven of these assailants were knights of the temple. And Sir Brian de Boisguilbert well knows the truth of what I tell you.
It is impossible for language to describe the bitter scowl of rage which rendered yet darker the swarthy countenance of the Templar. In the extremity of his resentment and confusion, his quivering fingers gripped toward the handle of his sword, and perhaps only withdrew from the consciousness that no act of violence could be safely executed in that place and presence. Cedric, whose feelings were all of a right onward and simple kind, and were seldom occupied by more than one subject at once, omitted in the joyous glee with which he heard of the glory of his countryman to remark the angry confusion of his guest. "'I would give thee this golden bracelet, Pilgrim,' he said. Couldst thou tell me the names of those knights who upheld so gallantly the renown of merry England?
That I will do blithely, replied the pilgrim, and without guerdon. My oath for a time prohibits me from touching gold. I will wear the bracelet for you, if you will, friend Palmer, said Wamba.
The first in honor as in arms, in renown as in place, said the pilgrim. Was the brave Richard, King of England? I forgive him, said Cedric. I forgive him his descent from the tyrant Duke William. The Earl of Leicester was the second, continued the pilgrim. Sir Thomas Moulton of Gilsland was the third. Of Saxon descent, he at least, said Cedric with exultation. Sir Fulke, Dwali, the fourth, preceded the pilgrim. Saxon also, at least by the mother's side, continued Cedric, who listened with the utmost eagerness, and forgot, in part at least, his hatred to the Normans in the common triumph of the King of England and his islanders. And who was the fifth? he demanded. The fifth was Sir Edwin Turnham.
Genuine Saxon, by the soul of Hengist, shouted Cedric. And the Sixth, he continued with eagerness. How name you the Sixth?
The Sixth, answered the palmer, after a pause, in which he seemed to recollect himself, was a young knight of lesser renown and lower rank, assumed into that honorable company less to aid their enterprise than to make up their number. His name dwells not in my memory.
"'Sir Palmer,' said Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert, scornfully, "'this assumed forgetfulness, after so much has been remembered, comes too late to serve your purpose. I will myself tell the name of the knight before whose lance fortune and my horse's fault occasioned my falling. It was the knight of Ivanhoe. Nor was there one of the six that, for his years, had more renown in arms. Yet this I will say, and loudly, that were he in England and durst repeat in this week's tournament, the challenge of St. Jean d'acre, I, mounted and armed as I now am, would give him every advantage of weapons and abide the result. Your challenge would soon be answered, replied the palmer. Were your antagonists near you?
As the matter is, disturb not the peaceful hall with vaunts of the issue of a conflict which you well know cannot take place. If Ivanhoe ever returns from Palestine, I will be his surety that he meets you. A goodly security, said the knight-templar, and what do you prefer as pledge? This reliquary, said the palmer, Taking a small ivory box from his bosom and crossing himself. Containing a portion of the true cross, brought from the monastery of Mount Carmel.
The prior of Jorvaux crossed himself and repeated a paternoster in which all devoutly joined, excepting the Jew, the Mahomedans, and the Templar. The latter of whom, without veiling his bonnet, or testifying any reverence for the alleged sanctity of the relic, took from his neck a gold chain, which he flung on the board, saying, Let Prior Eimer hold my pledge and that of this nameless vagrant, in token that, when the Knight of Ivanhoe comes within the four seas of Britain, he underlies the challenge of Brian de Bois-Gilbert, which, if he answer not, I will proclaim him as a coward on the walls of every temple court in Europe. "'It will not need,' said the Lady Rowena, breaking silence. "'My voice shall be heard.
If no other in this hall is raised in behalf of the absent Ivanhoe, I affirm he will meet fairly every honorable challenge. Could my weak warrant add security to the inestimable pledge of this holy pilgrim, I would pledge name and fame that Ivanhoe gives this proud knight the meeting he desires. A crowd of conflicting emotions seemed to have occupied Cedric, and kept him silent during this discussion. Gratified pride, resentment, embarrassment, chased each other over his broad and open brow like the shadow of clouds drifting over a harvest field, while his attendants, on whom the name of the sixth knight seemed to produce an effect almost electrical, hung in suspense upon their master's looks.
But when Rowena spoke, the sound of her voice seemed to startle him from his silence. Lady said Cedric. This beseems not. Were further pledge necessary, I myself, offended, and justly offended, as I am, would yet gauge my honour for the honour of Ivanhoe. But the wager of battle is complete, even according to the fantastic fashions of Norman chivalry. Is it not, Father Eimer? It is, replied the prior. And the blessed relic and rich chain will I bestow safely in the treasury of our convent, until the decision of this warlike challenge. Having thus spoken, he crossed himself again and again, and after many genuflections and muttered prayers, he delivered the reliquary to Brother Ambrose, his attendant monk, while he himself, swept up with less ceremony, but perhaps with no less internal satisfaction, the golden chain, and bestowed it in a pouch lined with perfumed leather, which opened under his arm.
"'And now, Sir Cedric,' he said, "'my ears are chiming vespers with the strength of your good wine. Permit us another pledge to the welfare of the Lady Rowena, and indulge us with liberty to pass to our repose.' "'By the road of the Bromholm,' said the Saxon, You do but small credit to your fame, Sir Pryor. Report speaks, you a bonny monk that would hear the Matin chime ere he quitted his bowl. And, old as I am, I feared to have shame in encountering you. But by my faith, a Saxon boy of twelve in my time would not so soon have relinquished his goblet.
The Pryor had his own reasons, however, for persevering in the course of temperance which he had adopted. He was not only a professional peacemaker, but from practice a hater of all feuds and brawls. It was not altogether from a love to his neighbor or to himself, or from a mixture of both. On the present occasion he had an instinctive apprehension of the fiery temper of the saxon, and saw the danger that the reckless and presumptuous spirit of which his companion had already given so many proofs might at length produce some disagreeable explosion. He therefore gently insinuated the incapacity of the native of any other country to engage in the genial conflict of the bowl with the hardy and strong-headed saxons.
Something he mentioned, but slightly, about his own holy character, and ended by pressing his proposal to depart to repose. The grace cup was accordingly served round, and the guests, after making deep obeisance to their landlord and to the lady Rowena, arose and mingled in the hall, while the heads of the family, separated by doors, retired with their attendants. Unbelieving dog! said the Templar to Isaac the Jew, as he passed him in the throng. Dost thou bend thy course to the tournament?
I do so propose, replied Isaac, bowing in all humility, if it please your reverend valor.
Ay, said the knight, to gnaw the bowels of our nobles with usury, and to gull women and boys with gods and toys. I warrant thee store of shekels in thy Jewish scrip. "'Not a shekel, not a silver penny, not a halfling, so help me the God of Abraham,' said the Jew, clasping his hands. "'I go but to seek the assistance of some brethren of my tribe, to aid me to pay the fine which the exchequer of the Jews has imposed upon me. Father Jacob, be my speed. I am an impoverished wretch. The very gabardine I wear is borrowed from Reuben of Tadcaster.' The Templar smiled sourly. As he replied, "'Beshrew thee for a false-hearted liar!' And passing onward, as if disdaining farther conference, he communed with his Muslim slaves in a language unknown to the bystanders.
The poor Israelite seemed so staggered by the address of the military monk, that the Templar had passed on to the extremity of the hall, ere he raised his head from the humble posture which he had assumed, so far as to be sensible of his departure. And when he did look around, it was with the astonished air of one at whose feet a thunderbolt has just burst, and who hears still the astounding report ringing in his ears. The Templar and Prior were shortly after marshalled to their sleeping apartments by the steward and the cup-bearer, each attended by two torch-bearers, and two servants carrying refreshments, while servants of inferior condition indicated to their retinue And to the other guests their respective places of repose.
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6 06 - Chapter 6 35:43
I.V.O. by Sir Walter Scott.
To buy his favour I extend this friendship, if he will take it, so, if not, adieu. And for my love I pray you wrong me not.
Merchant of Venice.
As the palmer, lighted by a domestic with a torch, passed through the intricate combination of apartments of this large and irregular mansion, the cup-bearer coming behind him, whispered in his ear that if he had no objection to a cup of good mead in his apartment, there were many domestics in that family who would gladly hear the news he had brought from the Holy Land, and particularly that which concerned the knight of Ivanhoe. Wamba presently appeared to urge the same request, observing that a cup after midnight was worth three after curfew. Without disputing a maxim urged by such grave authority, the palmer thanked them for their courtesy, but observed that he had included in his religious vow an obligation never to speak in the kitchen on matters which were prohibited in the hall.
"'That vow,' said Wamba to the cup-bearer, "'would scarce suit a serving-man.' The cup-bearer shrugged up his shoulders in displeasure. "'I thought to have lodged him in the Solaire-chamber,' said he. "'But since he is so unsocial to Christians, Ian let him take the next stall to Isaac the Jews.' "'Anne wold,' said he to the torch-bearer, "'carry the pilgrim to the southern cell. I give you good-night,' he added. "'Sir Palmer, with small thanks for short courtesy.' "'Good-night, and our ladies' benison,' said the palmer with composure, and his guide moved forward. "'In a small antechamber into which several doors opened, and which was lighted by a small iron lamp, they met a second interruption from the waiting-maid of Rowena,' who, saying in a tone of authority that her mistress desired to speak with the palmer, took the torch from the hand of Anwald, and, bidding him await her return, made a sign to the palmer to follow.
Apparently he did not think it proper to decline this invitation, as he had done the former, for though his gesture indicated some surprise at the summons, he obeyed it without answer or remonstrance. A short passage, and an ascent of seven steps, Each of which was composed of a solid beam of oak led him to the apartment of the Lady Rowena, the rude magnificence of which corresponded to the respect which was paid to her by the Lord of the Mansion. The walls were covered with embroidered hangings, on which different colored silks, interwoven with gold and silver threads, had been employed, with all the art of which the age was capable to represent the sports of hunting and hawking. The bed was adorned with the same rich tapestry, and surrounded with curtains dyed with purple.
The seats had also their stained coverings, and one which was higher than the rest was accommodated with a footstool of ivory, curiously carved. No fewer than four silver candelabras, holding great waxen torches, served to illuminate this apartment. Yet let not modern beauty envy the magnificence of a Saxon princess. The walls of the apartment were so ill-finished and so full of crevices that the rich hangings shook to the night blast, and in despite of a sort of screen intended to protect them from the wind, the flame of the torches streamed sideways into the air, like the unfurled pennon of a chieftain. Magnificence there was, With some rude attempt at taste. But of comfort there was little, and being unknown it was unmissed.
The Lady Rowena, with three of her attendants standing at her back, and arranging her hair ere she lay down to rest, was seated in the sort of throne already mentioned, and looked as if born to exact general homage. The pilgrim acknowledged her claim to it by a low genuflection. "'Rise, Palmer,' she said graciously. "'The defender of the absent has a right to favourable reception from all who value truth and honour manhood.' She then said to her train, "'Retire excepting only Elgitha. I would speak with this holy pilgrim.' The maidens, without leaving the apartment, retired to its further extremity, and sat down on a small bench against the wall, where they remained mute as statues, though at such a distance that their whispers could not have interrupted the conversation of their mistress.
Pilgrim, said the lady, after a moment's pause, during which she seemed uncertain how to address him. You this night mentioned a name. I mean, she said with a degree of effort. The name of Ivanhoe, in the walls whereby nature and kindred it should have sounded most acceptably. And yet such is the perverse course of fate, that of many whose hearts must have throbbed at the sound. I only dare ask you where, and in what condition you left him of whom you spoke. We heard that, having remained in Palestine, on account of his impaired health, after the departure of the English army, He had experienced the persecution of the French faction, to whom the Templars are known to be attached. "'I know little of the knight of Ivanhoe,' answered the palmer, with a troubled voice.
"'I would I knew him better, since you, lady, are interested in his fate. He hath, I believe, surmounted the persecution of his enemies in Palestine, and is on the eve of returning to England, Where you, lady, must know better than I what is his chance of happiness.
The lady Rowena sighed deeply, and asked more particularly when the knight of Ivanhoe might be expected in his native country, and whether he would not be exposed to great dangers by the road. On the first point the palmer professed ignorance. On the second, he said that the voyage might be safely made by the way of Venice and Genoa, and from thence through France to England. Ivanhoe, he said, was so well acquainted with the language and manners of the French, that there was no fear of his incurring any hazard during that part of his travels. "'Would to God,' said the lady Rowena, "'he were here safely arrived, and able to bear arms in the approaching tourney, In which the chivalry of this land are expected to display their address and valor.
Should Athelstain of Konigsberg obtain the prize, Ivanhoe is like to hear evil tidings when he reaches England. How looked he, stranger, when you last saw him? Had disease laid her hand heavy upon his strength and comeliness?
He was... Darker," said the palmer, and thinner than when he came from Cyprus in the train of Coeur de Lyon, and care seemed to sit heavily on his brow. But I approached not his presence, because he is unknown to me. "'He will,' said the lady. "'I fear find little in his native land to clear those clouds from his countenance.' "'Thanks, good pilgrim, for your information concerning the companion of my childhood.' Maidens, she said, draw near. Offer the sleeping cup to this holy man, whom I will no longer detain from repose.
One of the maidens presented a silver cup containing a rich mixture of wine and spice, which Rowena barely put to her lips. It was then offered to the palmer, who, after a low obeisance, tasted a few drops. Accept this alms, friend. continued the lady, offering a piece of gold, in acknowledgment of thy painful travail, and of the shrines thou hast visited.
The palmer received the boon with another low reverence, and followed Elgitha out of the apartment. In the ante-room he found his attendant Anwald, who, taking the torch from the hand of the waiting-maid, conducted him with more haste than ceremony to an exterior and ignoble part of the building, where a number of small apartments, or rather cells, served for sleeping-places in the lower order of domestics, and to strangers of mean degree.
"'In which of these sleeps the Jew?' said the pilgrim. "'The unbelieving dog,' answered Anwold, "'kennels in the cell next your holiness. St. Dunstan, how it must be scraped and cleansed, ere it be again fit for a Christian!' "'And where sleeps Goethe, the swineherd?' said the stranger. "'Gert,' replied the bondsman, "'sleeps in the cell on your right, as the Jew in that to your left. You serve to keep the child of circumcision separate from the abomination of his tribe. You might have occupied a more honourable place had you accepted Oswald's invitation.' "'It is as well as it is,' said the palmer. The company, even of a Jew, can hardly spread contamination through an oaken partition. So saying, he entered the cabin allotted to him, and taking the torch from the domestic's hand thanked him and wished him good-night.
Having shut the door of his cell, he placed the torch in a candlestick made of wood and looked around his sleeping apartment, the furniture of which was the most simple kind. It consisted of a rude wooden stool, And still ruder hutch or bed-frame, stuffed with clean straw, and accommodated with two or three sheepskins by way of bed-clothes. The palmer, having extinguished his torch, threw himself, without taking off any part of his clothes, on this rude couch, and slept, or at least retained his recumbent posture, till the earliest sunbeams found their way through the little grated window, which served at once to admit both air and light to his uncomfortable cell. He then started up, and after repeating his matins and adjusting his dress as he left it, and entered that of Isaac the Jew, lifting the latch as gently as he could.
The inmate was lying in troubled slumber upon a couch similar to that upon which the palmer himself had passed the night. Such parts of his dress as the Jew had laid aside on the preceding evening were disposed carefully around his person, as if to prevent the hazard of their being carried off during his slumbers. There was a trouble on his brow amounting almost to agony. His hands and arms moved convulsively, as if struggling with the nightmare. And besides several ejaculations in Hebrew, The following were distinctly heard in the Norman English or mixed language of the country. "'For the sake of the God of Abraham, spare an unhappy old man. I am poor, I am penniless. Should your irons wrench my limbs asunder, I could not gratify you.' The palmer awaited not the end of the Jew's vision, but stirred him with his pilgrim's staff.
The touch probably associated, as is usual, with some of the apprehensions excited by his dream. For the old man started up, his gray hair standing almost erect upon his head, and huddling some part of his garment about him. While he held the detached pieces with the tenacious grasp of a falcon, he fixed upon the palmer his keen, black eyes, expressive of wild surprise and of bodily apprehension. Fear nothing from me, Isaac," said the palmer. "'I come as your friend." "'The God of Israel requite you,' said the Jew, greatly relieved. "'I dreamed—' but Father Abraham, be praised! It was but a dream!' Then, collecting himself, he added in his usual tone, "'And what may it be your pleasure to want at so early an hour with the poor Jew?' "'It is to tell you,' said the palmer, that if you leave not this mansion instantly, and travel not with some haste, your journey may prove a dangerous one.
Holy Father, said the Jew, whom could it interest to endanger so poor a wretch as I am?
The purpose you can best guess, said the pilgrim. But rely on this, that when the Templar crossed the hall yesternight, he spoke to his mussulman slaves in the Saracen language, which I well understand, and charged them this morning to watch the journey of the Jew, to seize upon him when at a convenient distance from the mansion, and to conduct him to the castle of Philippe de Maloisin, or to that Reginald fronteboeuf.
It is impossible to describe the extremity of terror which seized upon the Jew at this information, and seemed at once to overpower his whole faculties. His arms fell down to his sides, and his head drooped on his breast. His knees bent under his weight. Every nerve and muscle of his frame seemed to collapse and lose its energy, and he sunk at the foot of the palmer, not in the fashion of one who intentionally stoops, kneels, or prostrates himself to excite compassion, but like a man borne down on all sides by the pressure of some invisible force, which crushes him to the earth without the power of resistance.
Holy God of Abraham! was his first exclamation, folding and elevating his wrinkled hands, but without raising his gray head from the pavement. O holy Moses! O blessed Aaron! The dream is not dreamed for naught, and the vision cometh not in vain. I feel their irons already tear my sinews. I feel the rack pass over my body like the saws and harrows and axes of iron over the men of Rabbah and of the cities of the children of Ammon. Stand up, Isaac, and hearken to me," said the palmer, who viewed the extremity of his distress with a compassion in which contempt was largely mingled. You have cause for your terror, considering how your brethren have been used in order to extort from them their hordes, both by princes and nobles.
But stand up, I say, and I will point out to you the means of escape. Leave this mansion instantly while its inmates sleep sound after the night's revel. I will guide you by the secret paths of the forest, known as well to me as to any forester that ranges it. And I will not leave you till you are under safe conduct of some chief or baron going to the tournament, whose good will you have probably the means of securing.
As the ears of Isaac received the hopes of escape which this speech intimated, he began gradually, and inch by inch, as it were, to raise himself up from the ground, until he fairly rested upon his knees, throwing back his long gray hair and beard, and fixing his keen black eyes upon the palmer's face, with a look expressive at once of hope and fear, not unmingled with suspicion. But when he heard the concluding part of the sentence, his original terror appeared to revive in full force, and he dropped once more on his face, exclaiming, "'I possess the means of securing goodwill. Alas! There is but one road to the favour of a Christian, and how can the poor Jew find it, whom extortions have already reduced to the misery of Lazarus?
Then, as if suspicion had overpowered his other feelings, he suddenly exclaimed, For the love of God, young man, betray me not, for the sake of the great Father who made us all Jew as well as genteel, Israelite and Ishmaelite. Do me no treason. I have not means to secure the good will of a Christian beggar were he rating it at a single penny. As he spoke these last words, he raised himself, and grasped the palmer's mantle with a look of the most earnest entreaty. The pilgrim extricated himself as if it were contamination in the touch.
Wart thou loaded with all the wealth of thy tribe, he said, What interest have I to injure thee? In this dress I am vowed to poverty, nor do I chain it for aught save a horse and a coat of mail. Yet think not that I care for thy company, or propose myself advantage by it. Remain here if thou wilt, Cedric the Saxon may protect thee. Alas, said the Jew, he will not let me travel in his train. Saxon or Norman will be equally ashamed of the poor Israelite. And to travel by myself through the domains of Philippe de Malvoisin and Reginald fronteboeuf. Good youth, I will go with you. Let us haste. Let us gird up our loins. Let us flee. Here is thy staff. Why wilt thou tarry? I tarry not, said the pilgrim, giving way to the urgency of his companion.
But I must secure the means of leaving this place. Follow me.
He led the way to the adjoining cell, which, as the reader is apprized, was occupied by Girt, the swineherd. Arise, Girt, said the pilgrim, Arise quickly, undo the postern gate, and let out the Jew in me. Girt, whose occupation, though now held so mean, gave him as much consequence in Saxon England as that of Eumaeus in Ithaca, was offended at the familiar and commanding tone assumed by the palmer. The Jew leaving Rotherwood, said he, raising himself on his elbow and looking superciliously at him, without quitting his palate, and travelling in company with the Palmer to boot. I should as soon have dreamt, said Wamba, who entered the apartment at the instant, of his stealing away with a gammon of bacon.
Nevertheless, said Girth, again lying down his head on the wooden log which served him for a pillow, Both Jew and Gentile must be content to abide the opening of the great gate. We suffer no visitors to depart by stealth at these unseasonable hours. Nevertheless, said the pilgrim, in a commanding tone, you will not, I think, refuse me that favour. So saying, he stooped over the bed of the recumbent swineherd, and whispered something in his ear in Saxon. Girth started up as if electrified. The pilgrim, raising his finger in an attitude, as if to express caution, added, "'Girth, beware! Thou art wont to be prudent. I say, undo the postern. Thou shalt know more anon.' With hasty alacrity, Girth obeyed him, while Wamba and the Jew followed, both wondering at the sudden change in the swineherd's demeanour.
"'My mule, my mule!' said the Jew, as soon as they stood without the postern. Fetch him his mule, said the pilgrim, and, hearest thou, let me have another, that I may bear him company till he is beyond these parts. I will return it safely to some of Cedric's train at Ashby. And do thou, he whispered, the rest in Girth's ear.
Willingly, most willingly, shall it be done, said Girth, and instantly departed to execute the commission. I wish I knew. said Wamba, when his comrade's back was turned. To what do you palmers learn in the Holy Land? To say our orisons, fool, answered the pilgrim, to repent our sins, and to mortify ourselves with fastings, vigils, and long prayers.
Something more potent than that, answered the jester. For when would repentance or prayer make girth Do a courtesy, or a fasting, or a vigil persuade him to lend you a mule? I trow, you might as well have told his favourite black boar of thy vigils and penance, and wouldst have gotten as civil an answer. Go to, said the pilgrim. Thou art but a Saxon fool. Thou say'st well, said the jester. Had I been born a norman, as I think thou art, I would have had luck on my side, and been next door to a wise man.
At this moment Girth appeared on the opposite side of the moat with the mules. The travelers crossed the ditch upon a drawbridge of only two planks' breadth, the narrowness of which was matched with the straightness of the postern, and with a little wicket in the exterior palisade which gave access to the forest. No sooner had they reached the mules than the Jew, with hasty and trembling hands, Secured behind the saddle a small bag of blue buckram, which he took from under his cloak, containing, as he muttered, a change of raiment, only a change of raiment. Then, getting upon the animal with more alacrity and haste than could have been anticipated from his years, he lost no time in so disposing of the skirts of his gaberdine, as to conceal completely from observation the burden which he had thus deposited en croupes.
The pilgrim mounted with more deliberation, reaching as he departed his hand to Goethe, who kissed it with the utmost possible veneration. The swineherd stood gazing after the travelers until they were lost under the boughs of the forest path, when he was disturbed from his reverie by the voice of Wamba. "'Knowest thou,' said the jester, my good friend Goethe, that thou art strangely courteous and most unwontedly pious on this summer morning.' I would I were a black prior or a barefoot palmer, to avail myself of thy unwanted zeal and courtesy. Certes, I would make more out of it than a kiss of the hand. "'Thou art no fool thus far, Wamba,' answered Girth. "'Though thou arguest from appearances, and the wisest of us can do no more.
But it is time to look after my charge.' So saying, he turned back to the mansion attended by the jester. Meanwhile the travelers continued to press on their journey with a despatch which argued the extremity of the Jews' fears, since persons at his age are seldom fond of rapid motion. The palmer, to whom every path and outlet in the wood appeared to be familiar, led the way through the most devious paths, and more than once excited anew the suspicion of the Israelite that he intended to betray him into some ambuscade of his enemies. His doubts might have been indeed pardoned, for except perhaps the flying fish, there was no race existing on the earth, in the air, or the waters, who were the object of such an unintermitting, general, and relentless persecution as the Jews of this period.
Upon the slightest and most unreasonable pretences, as well as upon accusations, the most absurd and groundless, Their persons and property were exposed to every turn of popular fury. The Norman, Saxon, Dane, and Briton, however adverse these races were to each other, contended which should look with the greatest detestation upon a people whom it was accounted a point of religion to hate, to revile, to despise, to plunder, and to persecute. The kings of the Norman race, and the independent nobles who followed their example in all acts of tyranny, maintained against this devoted people a persecution of a more regular, calculated, and self-interested kind. It is a well-known story of King John that he confined a wealthy Jew in one of the royal castles, and daily caused one of his teeth to be torn out, until, when the jaw of the unhappy Israelite was half-disfurnished, He consented to pay a large sum, which it was the tyrant's object to extort from him.
The little ready money which was in the country was chiefly in possession of this persecuted people, and the nobility hesitated not to follow the example of their sovereign in wringing it from them by every species of oppression, and even personal torture, Yet the passive courage inspired by the love of gain induced the Jews to dare the various evils to which they were subjected, in consideration of the immense profits which they were enabled to realize in a country naturally so wealthy as England. In spite of every kind of discouragement, and even of the special court of taxations already mentioned, called the Jews' Exchequer, Erected for the very purpose of despoiling and distressing them. The Jews increased, multiplied, and accumulated huge sums, which they transferred from one hand to another by means of bills of exchange.
An invention for which commerce is said to be indebted to them, and which enabled them to transfer their wealth from land to land, that, when threatened with oppression in one country, their treasure might be secured in another. The obstinacy and avarice of the Jews being thus in a measure placed in opposition to the fanaticism and tyranny of those under whom they lived, seemed to increase in proportion to the persecution with which they were visited. And the immense wealth they usually acquired in commerce, while it frequently placed them in danger, was at other times used to extend their influence, and to secure them a certain degree of protection. On these terms they lived, and their character influenced accordingly was watchful, suspicious, and timid, yet obstinate, uncomplying, and skilful in evading the dangers to which they were exposed.
When the travelers had pushed on at a rapid rate through many devious paths, the palmer at length broke silence. "'That large decayed oak,' he said, Mark the boundaries over which fronteboeuf claims authority. We are long since far from those of Meloisin. There is now no fear of pursuit.
May the wheels of their chariots be taken off, said the Jew, like those of the host of Pharaoh, that they may drive heavily. But leave me not, good pilgrim. Think but of that fierce and savage Templar with his Saracen slaves. They will regard neither territory nor manner nor lordship. Our road, said the palmer, should here separate, for it beseems not men of my character and thine to travel together longer than needs must be. Besides, what succour couldst thou have from me, a peaceful pilgrim, against two armed heathens? O good youth, answered the Jew, thou canst defend me, and I know thou wouldst. Poor as I am, I will requite it. Not with money, for money so helped me my father Abraham. I have none but—' Money and recompense,' said the palmer, interrupting him.
"'I have already said I require naught of thee. Guide thee I can, and it may be, even in some sort, defend thee, since to protect a Jew against a Saracen can scarce be accounted unworthy of a Christian. Therefore I, Jew, will see thee safe under some fitting escort. We are now not far from the town of Sheffield, where thou mayest easily find many of thy tribe with whom to take refuge. The blessing of Jacob be upon thee, good youth, said the Jew. In Sheffield I can harbor with my kinsman, Zareth, and find some means of traveling forth with safety. Be it so, said the palmer. At Sheffield then we part, and half an hour's riding will bring us in sight of that town. The half hour was spent in perfect silence on both parts.
The pilgrim perhaps disdaining to address the Jew, except in case of absolute necessity, and the Jew not presuming to force a conversation with a person whose journey to the Holy Sepulchre gave a sort of sanctity to his character. They paused on the top of a gently rising bank, and the pilgrim, pointing to the town of Sheffield, which lay beneath them, repeated the words, "'Here, then, we part. Not till you have had the poor Jew's thanks.' said Isaac, for I presume not to ask you to go with me to my kinsman, Zareth, who might aid me with some means of repaying your good offices. I have already said, answered the pilgrim, that I desire no recompense. If, among the huge list of thy debtors, thou wilt, for my sake, spare the geves and the dungeon to some unhappy Christian who stands in thy danger, I shall hold this morning's service to thee well bestowed.
Stay, stay, said the Jew, laying hold of his garment. Something would I do more than this, something for thyself. God knows the Jew is poor, yes, Isaac is the beggar of his tribe. But forgive me should I guess what thou most lackest at this moment.
If thou wert to guess truly, said the palmer, it is what thou canst not supply, wert thou as wealthy as thou sayest thou art poor. "'As I say,' echoed the Jew, "'oh, believe it, I say but the truth. I am a plundered, indebted, distressed man. Hard hands have wrung from me my goods, my money, my ships, and all that I possessed. Yet I can tell thee what thou lackest, and, it may be, supply it too. Thy wish even now is for a horse and armour.' The palmer started, and turned suddenly towards the Jew. "'What fiend prompted that guess?' said he hastily. "'No matter,' said the Jew, smiling, "'so that it be a true one, and as I can guess thy want, so I can supply it.' "'But consider,' said the palmer, "'my character, my dress, my vow.' "'I know you Christians,' replied the Jew, And that the noblest of you will take the staff and sandal in superstitious penance, and walk afoot to visit the graves of dead men.
Blaspheme not, Jew! said the pilgrim sternly. Forgive me, said the Jew. I spoke rashly, but there dropped words from me last night and this morning that, like sparks from flint, showed the metal within, and in the bosom of that palmer's gown is hidden a knight's chain and spurs of gold. They glanced as you stooped over my bed in the morning.
The pilgrim could not forbear smiling. "'Were thy garments searched by as curious an eye, Isaac?' said he. "'What discoveries might not be made?' "'No more of that,' said the Jew, changing colour, and drawing forth his writing materials in haste, as if to stop the conversation, He began to write upon a piece of paper, which he supported on the top of his yellow cap, without dismounting from his mule. When he had finished, he delivered the scroll, which was in the Hebrew character, to the pilgrim, saying, In the town of Leicester all men know the rich Jew, Kirjath-Jairam of Lombardy. Give him this scroll. He hath on sale six Milan harnesses, the worst would suit a crowned head, ten goodly steeds, The worst might mount a king, were he to do battle for his throne.
Of these he will give thee thy choice, with everything else that can furnish thee forth for the tournament. When it is over, thou wilt return them safely, unless thou shouldst have wherewith to pay their value to the owner. But Isaac, said the pilgrim, smiling, dost thou know that in these sports the arms and steed of the knight who is on horse are forfeit to his victor? Now I may be unfortunate, and so lose what I cannot replace or repay.
The Jew looked somewhat astounded at this possibility, but, collecting his courage, he replied hastily, No, no, no. It is impossible. I will not think so. The blessing of our father will be upon thee. Thy lance will be powerful as the rod of Moses.
So saying, he was turning his mule's head away, when the palmer, in his turn, took hold of his gabardine. Nay, but Isaac, thou knowest not all the risk. The steed may be slain, the armor injured. For I will spare neither horse nor man. Besides, those of thy tribe give nothing for nothing. Something there must be paid for their use. The Jew twisted himself in the saddle, like a man in a fit of the colic. But his better feelings predominated over those which were most familiar to him. "'I care not,' he said. "'I care not. Let me go. If there is damage, it will cost you nothing. If there is usage money, Kirjath Jairam will forgive it for the sake of his kinsman, Isaac.' Fare thee well. Yet hark thee, good youth," said he, turning about.
"'Thrust thyself not too forward into this vain hurly-burly, I speak not for endangering the steed and coat of armour, but for the sake of thine own life and limbs. "'Gras merci for thy caution,' said the palmer, again smiling. "'I will use thy courtesy frankly, and it will go hard with me, but I will requite it.' They parted, and took different roads for the town of Sheffield.
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7 07 - Chapter 7 33:16
Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. Chapter Seven Knights. With the long retinue of their squires, In gaudy liveries, march, and quaint attires. One laced the helm, another held the lance, A third, the shining buckler, did advance. The courser pawed the ground with restless feet, And snorting foamed and champed the golden bit. The smiths and armorers on Palfrey's ride, Phials in their hands, and hammers at their side, and nails for loosened spears, and thongs for shields provide. The yeomen guard the streets in seemly bands, and clowns come crowding on with cudgels in their hands.
Palamon and Arcite.
The condition of the English nation was at this time sufficiently miserable. King Richard was absent a prisoner, and in the power of the perfidious and cruel Duke of Austria. Even the very place of his captivity was uncertain, and his fate but very imperfectly known to the generality of his subjects, who were in the meantime a prey to every species of subaltern oppression. Prince John, in league with Philip of France, Coeur de Lyon's mortal enemy, was using every species of influence with the Duke of Austria to prolong the captivity of his brother, Richard, to whom he stood indebted for so many favors. In the meantime, he was strengthening his own faction in the kingdom, of which he proposed to dispute the succession, in case of the king's death, with the legitimate heir, Arthur, Duke of Brittany, son of Geoffrey Plantagenet, the elder brother of John.
This usurpation, it is well known, he afterwards affected. His own character being light, profligate, and perfidious, John easily attached to his person and faction, not only all who had reason to dread the resentment of Richard for criminal proceedings during his absence, but also the numerous class of lawless resolutes, whom the Crusades had turned back on their country, accomplished in the vices of the East, impoverished in substance, and hardened in character, and who placed their hopes of harvest in civil commotion. To these causes of public distress and apprehension must be added the multitude of outlaws who, driven to despair by the oppression of the feudal nobility, and the severe exercise of the forest laws, banded together in large gangs, and keeping possession of the forests and the wastes, Set at defiance the justice and magistracy of the country.
The nobles themselves, each fortified within his own castle, and playing the petty sovereign over his own dominions, were the leaders of bands scarcely lawless and oppressive than those of the avowed depredators. To maintain these retainers, and to support the extravagance and magnificence which their pride induced them to effect, The nobility borrowed sums of money from the Jews at the most usurious interest, which gnawed into their estates like consuming cankers, scarce to be cured unless when circumstances gave them an opportunity of getting free, by exercising upon their creditors some act of unprincipled violence.
Under the various burdens imposed by this unhappy state of affairs, The people of England suffered deeply for the present, and had yet more dreadful cause to fear for the future. To augment their misery, a contagious disorder of a dangerous nature spread through the land, and, rendered more virulent by the uncleanness, the indifferent food, and the wretched lodging of the lower classes, swept off many whose fate the survivors were tempted to envy, As exempting them from the evils which were to come. Yet, amid these accumulated distresses, the poor as well as the rich, the vulgar as well as the noble, in the event of a tournament which was the grand spectacle of that age, felt as much interest as the half-starved citizen of Madrid, who has not a real left to buy provisions for his family, feels in the issue of a full beast.
Neither duty nor infirmity could keep youth or age from such exhibitions. The Passage of Arms, as it was called, which was to take place at Ashby, in the county of Leicester, as champions of the first renown were to take the field in the presence of Prince John himself, who was expected to grace the lists, had attracted universal attention, And an immense confluence of persons of all ranks hastened upon the appointed morning to the place of combat. The scene was singularly romantic. On the verge of a wood, which approached to within a mile of the town of Ashby, was an extensive meadow of the finest and most beautiful green turf, surrounded on one side by the forest, and fringed on the other by straggling oak trees, Some of which had grown to an immense size.
The ground, as if fashioned on purpose for the martial display which was intended, sloped gradually down on all sides to a level bottom, which was enclosed for the lists with strong palisades, forming a space of a quarter of a mile in length, and about half as broad. The form of the enclosure was an oblong square, save that the corners were considerably rounded off, in order to afford more convenience for the spectators. The openings for the entry of the combatants were at the northern and southern extremities of the lists, accessible by strong wooden gates, each wide enough to admit two horsemen riding abreast. At each of these portals were stationed two heralds, attended by six trumpets, as many pursuivants, and a strong body of men-at-arms, for maintaining order, and ascertaining the quality of the knights who proposed to engage in this martial game.
On a platform beyond the southern entrance, formed by a natural elevation of the ground, were pitched five magnificent pavilions, adorned with pennons of russet and black, The chosen colors of the five knights' challengers. The cords of the tents were of the same color. Before each pavilion was suspended the shield of the knight by whom it was occupied, and beside it stood his squire, quaintly disguised as a salvage or sylvan man, or in some other fantastic dress, according to the taste of his master, the character he was pleased to assume during the game.
This sort of masquerade is supposed to have occasioned the introduction of supporters into the science of heraldry.
The Central Pavilion, as the place of honor, had been assigned to Brian de Bois-Guibert, whose renown in all games of chivalry, no less than his connections with the knights who had undertaken this passage of arms, had occasioned him to be eagerly received into the company of the challengers, and even adopted as their chief and leader, though he had so recently joined them. On one side of his tent were pitched those of Reginald Fronteboeuf and Richard de Melvoisin, and on the other was a pavilion of Hugh de Grand Mesnil, a noble baron in the vicinity, whose ancestor had been Lord High Steward of England in the time of the Conqueror, and his son William Rufus, Ralph de Vipon, A knight of St. John of Jerusalem, who had some ancient possessions at a place called Heather, near Ashby de Lazouche, occupied the fifth pavilion.
From the entrance into the lists, a gently sloping passage ten yards in breadth led up to the platform on which the tents were pitched. It was strongly secured by a palisade on each side, as was the esplanade in front of the pavilions, and the whole was guarded by men-at-arms. The northern access to the lists terminated in a similar entrance of thirty feet in breadth, at the extremity of which was a large enclosed space for such knights as might be disposed to enter the lists with the challengers, behind which were placed tents containing refreshments of every kind for their accommodation, with armorers, tarriers, and other attendants, in readiness to give their services wherever they might be necessary.
The exterior of the lists was in part occupied by temporary galleries, spread with tapestry and carpets, and accommodated with cushions for the convenience of those ladies and nobles who were expected to attend the tournament. A narrow space betwixt these galleries and the lists gave accommodation for yeomanry and spectators of a better degree than the mere vulgar, and might be compared to the pit of a theatre. The promiscuous multitude arranged themselves upon large banks of turf, prepared for the purpose which, aided by the natural elevation of the ground, enabled them to overlook the galleries, and obtain a fair view into the lists. Besides the accommodation which these stations afforded, many hundreds had perched themselves on the branches of the trees which surrounded the meadow.
And even the steeple of a country church at some distance was crowded with spectators. It only remains to notice, respecting the general arrangement, that one gallery in the very center of the eastern side of the lists, and consequently exactly opposite to the spot where the shock of the combat was to take place, was raised higher than the others. More richly decorated, and graced by a sort of throne and canopy on which the royal arms were emblazoned. Squires, pages, and yeomen in rich liveries waded around this place of honor, which was designed for Prince John and his attendants. Opposite to this royal gallery was another elevated to the same height on the western side of the lists, and more gayly, if less sumptuously decorated, than that destined for the prince himself.
A train of pages, and of young maidens, the most beautiful who could be selected, gayly dressed in fancy habits of green and pink, surrounded a throne decorated in the same colors. Among pennons and flags bearing wounded hearts, burning hearts, bleeding hearts, bows and quivers, and all the commonplace emblems of the triumphs of Cupid, A blazoned inscription informed the spectators that this seat of honor was designed for la roine de la spraute de les Amours. But who was to represent the Queen of Beauty and of Love on the present occasion no one was prepared to guess. Meanwhile, spectators of every description thronged forward to occupy their respective stations, and not without many quarrels concerning those which they were entitled to hold.
Some of these were settled by the men-at-arms, with brief ceremony, the shafts of their battle-axes and pummels of their swords being readily employed as arguments to convince the more refractory. Others, which involved the rival claims of more elevated persons, were determined by the heralds or by the two marshals of the field, William de Weevil and Stephen de Marteville, who, armed at all points, Rode up and down the lists to enforce and preserve good order among the spectators. Gradually the galleries became filled with knights and nobles in their robes of peace, whose long and rich-tinted mantles were contrasted with the gayer and more splendid habits of the ladies, who, in a greater proportion than even the men themselves, thronged to witness a sport which one would have thought too bloody and dangerous to afford their sex much pleasure.
The lower and interior space was soon filled by substantial yeomen and burghers, and such of the lesser gentry as from modesty, poverty, or dubious title durst not assume any higher place. It was, of course, amongst these that the most frequent disputes for precedence occurred. "'Dog of an unbeliever,' said an old man, Whose threadbare tunic bore witness to his poverty as his sword and dagger and golden chain intimated his pretensions to rank. Whelp of a she-wolf! Darest thou press upon a Christian and a Norman gentleman of the blood of Montpellier? This rough expostulation was addressed to no other than our acquaintance, Isaac, who, richly and even magnificently dressed, in a gaberdine ornamented with lace and lined with fur, was endeavoring to make place in the foremost row beneath the gallery for his daughter, the beautiful Rebecca, who had joined him at Ashby and who was now hanging on her father's arm, not a little terrified by the popular displeasure which seemed generally excited by her parents' presumption.
But Isaac, though we have seen him sufficiently timid on other occasions, knew well that at present he had nothing to fear. It was not in places of general resort, or where their equals were assembled, that any avaricious or malvolent noble durst offer him injury. At such meetings the Jews were under the protection of the general law, And if that proved a weak assurance, it usually happened that there were among the persons assembled some barons who, for their own interested motives, were ready to act as their protectors. On the present occasion, Isaac felt more than usually confident, being aware that Prince John was even then in the very act of negotiating a large loan from the Jews of York, to be secured upon certain jewels and lands.
Isaac's own share in this transaction was considerable, and he well knew that the prince's eager desire to bring it to a conclusion would ensure him his protection in the dilemma in which he stood. Emboldened by these considerations, the Jew pursued his point, and jostled the Norman Christian without respect either to his descent, quality, or religion. The complaints of the old man, however, excited the indignation of the bystanders. One of these, a stout, well-set yeoman, arrayed in lincoln green, having twelve arrows stuck in his belt with a baldric and a badge of silver, and a bow of six feet length in his hand, turned short round, and while his countenance, which his constant exposure to weather had rendered brown as a hazel-nut, grew darker with anger, He advised the Jew to remember that all the wealth he had acquired by sucking the blood of his miserable victims had but swelled him like a bloated spider, which might be overlooked while he kept in a comer, but would be crushed if it ventured into the light.
This intimation, delivered in Norman English with a firm voice and a stern aspect, made the Jew shrink back. And he would have probably withdrawn himself altogether from a vicinity so dangerous had not the attention of every one been called to the sudden entrance of Prince John, who at that moment entered the lists, attended by a numerous and gay train, consisting partly of laymen, partly of churchmen, as light in their dress and as gay in their demeanor as their companions. Among the latter was the prior of Gervaux, in the most gallant trim which a dignitary of the church could venture to exhibit. Fur and gold were not spared in his garments, and the points of his boots, out-heroding the preposterous fashion of the time, turned up so very far as to be attached not to his niece merely, but to his very girdle, and effectually prevented him from putting his foot into the stirrup.
This, however, was a slight inconvenience to the gallant abbot, who, perhaps even rejoicing in the opportunity to display his accomplished horsemanship before so many spectators, especially of the fair sex, dispensed with the use of these supports to a timid rider.
The rest of Prince John's retinue consisted of the favorite leaders of his mercenary troops, some marauding barons and profligate attendants upon the court, with several Knights Templars and Knights of St. John.
It may be here remarked, that the knights of these two orders were accounted hostile to King Richard, having adopted the side of Philip of France in the long train of disputes which took place in Palestine, betwixt that monarch and the lion-hearted King of England. It was the well-known consequence of this discord that Richard's repeated victories had been rendered fruitless, His romantic attempts to besiege Jerusalem disappointed, and the fruit of all the glory which he had acquired had dwindled into an uncertain truce with the Sultan Saladin.
With the same policy which had dictated the conduct of their brethren in the Holy Land, the Templars and Hospitallers in England and Normandy attached themselves to the faction of Prince John, Having little reason to desire the return of Richard to England, or the succession of Arthur, his legitimate heir. For the opposite reason, Prince John hated and contemned the few Saxon families of consequence which subsisted in England, and omitted no opportunity of mortifying and affronting them. Being conscious that his person and pretensions were disliked by them, as well as by the greater part of the English commons, who feared farther innovation upon their rights and liberties from a sovereign of John's licentious and tyrannical disposition.
Attended by this gallant equipage, himself well mounted and splendidly dressed in crimson and in gold, bearing upon his hand a falcon, and having his head covered by a rich fur bonnet, adorned with a circle of precious stones, from which his long curled hair escaped and overspread his shoulders. Prince John, upon a gray and high-mettled palfrey, caracalled within the lists at the head of his jovial party, laughing loud with his train, and eyeing with all the boldness of royal criticism the beauties who adorned the lofty galleries. Those who remarked in the physiognomy of the prince a dissolute audacity, mingled with extreme haughtiness and indifference to the feelings of others who could not yet deny to his countenance that sort of comeliness which belongs to an open set of features, well formed by nature, modeled by art to the usual rules of courtesy, Yet so frank and honest that they seemed as if they disclaimed to conceal the natural workings of the soul.
Such an expression is often mistaken for manly frankness, when in truth it arises from the reckless indifference of a libertine disposition, conscious of superiority of birth, of wealth, or of some other advantage, totally unconnected with personal merit. To those who did not think so deeply—and they were the greater number by a hundred to one—the splendor of Prince John's renault, i.e. for a trippet, the richness of his cloak, lined with the most costly sables. His Moroccan boots and golden spurs, together with the grace with which he managed his palfrey, were sufficient to merit clamorous applause.
In his joyous caracol round the lists, the attention of the prince was called by the commotion, not yet subsided, which had attended the ambitious movement of Isaac towards the higher places of the assembly. The quick eye of Prince John instantly recognized the Jew, but was much more agreeably attracted by the beautiful daughter of Zion, who, terrified by the tumult, clung close to the arm of her aged father.
The figure of Rebecca might indeed have compared with the proudest beauties of England, even though it had been judged by as shrewd a connoisseur as Prince John. Her form was exquisitely symmetrical, and was shown to advantage by a sort of Eastern dress, which she wore according to the fashion of the females of her nation. Her turban of yellow silk suited well with the darkness of her complexion. The brilliancy of her eyes, the superb arch of her eyebrows, Her well-formed aquiline nose, her teeth as white as pearl, and the profusion of her sable tresses, which, each arranged in its own little spiral of twisted curls, fell down upon as much of a lovely neck and bosom as a cimar of the richest Persian silk, exhibiting flowers in their natural colors embossed upon a purple ground, permitted to be visible, All these constituted a combination of loveliness, which yielded not to the most beautiful of the maidens who surrounded her.
It is true that of the golden and pearl-studded clasps, which closed her vest from the throat to the waist, the three uppermost were left unfastened on account of the heat, which something enlarged the prospect to which we allude. A diamond necklace with pendants of inestimable value were by this means also made more conspicuous. The feather of an ostrich, fastened in her turban by an agraf set with brilliance, was another distinction of the beautiful Jewess, scoffed and sneered at by the proud dames who sat above her, but secretly envied by those who affected to deride them. "'By the bald scalp of Abraham!' said Prince John. Yonder Jewess must be the very model of that perfection, whose charms drove frantic the wisest king that ever lived.
What sayest thou, Prior Eimer? By the temple of that wise king, which our wiser brother Richard proved unable to recover. She is the very bride of the canticles. The rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valley, answered the Prior, in a sort of snuffling tone. But your grace must remember she is still but a Jewess. "'Aye,' added Prince John, without heeding him, "'and there is my mammon of unrighteousness, too, the Marquis of Marks, the Baron of Bizants, contesting for her place with penniless dogs, whose threadbare cloaks have not a single cross in their pouches to keep the devil from dancing there. By the body of Saint Mark, my Prince of Supplies, with his lovely Jewess, shall have a place in that gallery.' What is she, Isaac, thy wife, or thy daughter, that eastern houri that thou lockest under thy arm as thou wouldst thy treasure-casket?
My daughter, Rebekah, so please your grace, answered Isaac, with a low congee. Nothing embarrassed by the prince's salutation, in which, however, there was at least as much mockery as courtesy. The wiser man thou, said John, with a peal of laughter, in which his gay followers obsequiously joined. But, daughter or wife, she should be preferred according to her beauty and thy merits. Who sits above there? he continued, bending his eye on the gallery. Saxon churls, lolling at their lazy length. Out upon them! Let them sit close, and make room for my prince of usurers and his lovely daughter. I'll make the Heinz know they must share the high places of the synagogue with those whom the synagogue properly belongs to.
Those who occupied the gallery to whom this injurious and unpolite speech was addressed were the family of Cedric the Saxon, with that of his ally and kinsman, Athelstane of Cuningsburg, a personage who, on account of his descent from the last Saxon monarchs of England, was held in the highest respect by all the Saxon natives of the north of England. But with the blood of this ancient royal race, many of their infirmities had descended to Athelstane. He was comely in countenance, bulky and strong in person, and in the flower of his age, yet inanimate in expression, dull-eyed, heavy-browed, inactive, and sluggish in all his motions, and so slow in resolution, that the sobriquet of one of his ancestors was conferred upon him, and he was very generally called Athelstane the Unready.
His friends, and he had many, who, as well as Cedric, were passionately attached to him, contended that this sluggish temper arose not from want of courage, but from mere want of decision. Others alleged that his hereditary vice of drunkenness had obscured his faculties, never of a very acute order, And that the passive courage and meek good-nature which remained behind were merely the dregs of a character that might have been deserving of praise, but of which all the valuable parts had flown off in the progress of a long course of brutal debauchery. It was to this person, such as we have described him, that the prince addressed his imperious command to make place for Isaac and Rebekah. Athelstane, utterly confounded at an order which the manners and the feelings of the times rendered so injuriously insulting, unwilling to obey, yet undetermined how to resist, opposed only the vis-en-cercher to the will of John, and, without stirring or making any motion whatever of obedience, opened his large gray eyes, and stared at the prince with an astonishment which had in it something extremely ludicrous.
But the impatient John regarded it in no such light.
"'The Saxon porker,' he said, "'is either asleep or minds me not. Prick him with your lance, de Bracy.' Speaking to a knight who rode near him, the leader of a band of free companions or condottieri—that is, of mercenaries belonging to no particular nation, but attached for a time to any prince by whom they were paid. There was a murmur even among the attendants of Prince John. But de Bracy, whose profession freed him from all scruples, extended his long lance over the space which separated the gallery from the lists, and would have executed the commands of the Prince before Athelstane the Unready had recovered presence of mind, sufficient even to draw back his person from the weapon. Had not Cedric, as prompt as his companion was tardy, unsheathed with the speed of lightning, the short sword which he wore, and at a single blow severed the point of the lance from the handle?
The blood rushed into the countenance of Prince John. He swore one of his deepest oaths, and was about to utter some threat corresponding in violence, when he was diverted from his purpose, partly by his own attendants, who gathered around him, conjuring him to be patient. Partly by a general exclamation of the crowd, uttered in loud applause of the spirited conduct of Cedric. The prince rolled his eyes in indignation, as if to collect some safe and easy victim, and chancing to encounter the firm glance of the same archer whom we have already noticed, and who seemed to persist in his gesture of applause, in spite of the frowning aspect which the prince bent upon him. He demanded his reason for clamoring thus.
"'I always add my halloa,' said the yeoman, when I see a good shot or a gallant blow. "'Sayest thou,' answered the prince, "'then thou canst hit the wight thyself, I'll warrant. "'A woodsman's mark, at a woodsman's distance I can hit,' answered the yeoman. "'And what Tyrell's mark, at a hundred yards,' said a voice from behind, but by whom uttered could not be discerned. This allusion to the fate of William Rufus, his relative, at once incensed and alarmed Prince John. He satisfied himself, however, with commanding the men-at-arms, who surrounded the lists, to keep an eye on the braggart, pointing to the yeoman. By St. Grizzle, he added, we will try his own skill, who is so ready to give his voice to the feats of others.
I shall not fly the trial, said the yeoman, with a composure which marked his whole deportment.
Meanwhile, stand up, ye Saxon churls, said the fiery prince, for by the light of heaven, since I have said it, the Jew shall have his seat amongst ye. By no means, and it please your grace. It is not fit for such as we to sit with the rulers of the land, said the Jew, whose ambition for precedence, though it had led him to dispute place with the extenuated and impoverished descendant of the line of Montdidier, by no means stimulated him to an intrusion upon the privileges of the wealthy Saxons. Up, infidel dog, when I command you, said Prince John, or I will have thy swarthy hide stripped off and tanned for horse furniture. Thus urged, the Jew began to ascend the steep and narrow steps which led up to the gallery.
Let me see, said the Prince, who dare stop him. Fixing his eye on Cedric, whose attitude intimated his intention to hurl the Jew down headlong. The catastrophe was prevented by the clown Wamba, who, springing betwixt his master and Isaac, and exclaiming in answer to the Prince's defiance, "'Mary, that will I!' opposed to the beard of the Jew a shield of brawn, which he plucked from beneath his cloak, and with which—' Doubtless he had furnished himself, lest the tournament should have proved longer than his appetite could endure abstinence. Finding the abomination of his tribe opposed to his very nose, while the jester at the same time flourished his wooden sword above his head, the Jew recoiled, missed his footing, and rolled down the steps.
An excellent jest to the spectators, who set up a loud laughter in which Prince John and his attendants heartily joined. "'Deal me the prize, cousin Prince,' said Wamba. "'I have vanquished my foe in fair fight with sword and shield,' he added, brandishing the brawn in one hand and the wooden sword in the other. "'Who and what art thou, noble champion?' said Prince John, still laughing. "'A fool by right of dissent,' answered the jester. "'I am Wamba, the son of Witless, who was the son of Wetherbrain, who was the son of Alderman.' Make room for the Jew in front of the lower ring, said Prince John, not unwilling, perhaps, to seize an apology to desist from his original purpose. To place the vanquished beside the victor were false heraldry.
Knave upon fool were worse, answered the jester, and Jew upon bacon worst of all. Gra mercy, good fellow, cried Prince John. Thou pleasest me here. Isaac, lend me a handful of bisons. As the Jew, stunned by the request, afraid to refuse, and unwilling to comply, fumbled in the furred bag which hung by his girdle, and was perhaps endeavoring to ascertain how few coins might pass for a handful, the prince stooped from his jennet, and settled Isaac's doubts by snatching the pouch itself from his side, and flinging to Wamba a couple of the gold pieces which it contained. He pursued his career round the lists, leaving the Jew to the derision of those around him, and himself receiving as much applause from the spectators as if he had done some honest and honorable action.
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At this the challenger with fierce defy his trumpet sounds, the challenged makes reply. With clangor rings the field, resounds the vaulted sky, their visors closed, their lances in rest, or at the helmet pointed o'er the crest. They vanish from the barrier, speed the race, and spurring see decrease the middle space.
Palamon and Arcite.
In the midst of Prince John's cavalcade he suddenly stopped, and, appealing to the Prior of Gervaux, declared the principal business of the day had been forgotten.
By my halidom, said he, we have neglected, Sir Prior, to name the fair sovereign of love and of beauty, by whose white hand the palm is to be distributed. For my part, I am liberal in my ideas, and I care not if I give my vote for the black-eyed Rebecca. Holy Virgin, answered the prior, turning up his eyes in horror. A Jewess? We should deserve to be stoned out of the lists, and I am not yet old enough to be a martyr. Besides, I swear by my patron sate that she is far inferior to the lovely Saxon Rowena. Saxon or Jew? answered the prince. Saxon or Jew, dog or hog, what matters it? I say, name Rebekah were it only to mortify the Saxon churls.
A murmur arose even among his own immediate attendants. This passes a jest, my lord, said de Bracy. No knight here will lay Lance in rest if such an insult is attempted. It is the mere wantonness of an insult. said one of the oldest and most important of Prince John's followers, Waldemar Fitzhurst. And if your grace attempt it, cannot but prove ruinous to your projects. "'I entertain you, sir,' said John, raining up his palfrey haughtily, "'for my follower, but not for my counsellor.' "'Those who follow your grace in the paths which you tread,' said Waldemar, but speaking in a low voice, Acquire the right of counsellors, for your interests and safety are not more deeply gauged than their own.
From the tone in which this was spoken, John saw the necessity of acquiescence. "'I did but jest,' he said. "'And you turn upon me like so many adders. Name who you will, in the fiend's name, and please yourselves.' "'Nay, nay,' said de Bracey, Let the fair sovereign's throne remain unoccupied until the conqueror shall be named, and then let him choose the lady by whom it shall be filled. It will add another grace to his triumph, and teach fair ladies to prize the love of valiant knights who can exalt them to such distinction. If Brian de Bois-Gilbert gain the prize, said the prior, I will gauge my rosary that I name the sovereign of love and beauty. Bois-guilbert, answered de Bracy, is a good lance.
But there are others around these lists, Sir Pryor, who will not fear to encounter him. Silence, sirs, said Waldemar, and let the prince assume his seat. The knights and spectators are alike impatient. The time advances, and highly fit it is that the sports should commence. Prince John, though not yet a monarch, Had in Waldemar Fitzgerald all the inconveniences of a favorite minister, who, in serving his sovereign, must always do so in his own way. The prince acquiesced, however, although his disposition was precisely of that kind which is apt to be obstinate upon trifles, and, assuming his throne, and being surrounded by his followers, gave signal to the heralds to proclaim the laws of the tournament, which were briefly as follows.
First, the five challengers were to undertake all comers. Secondly, any knight proposing to combat might, if he pleased, select a special antagonist from among the challengers by touching his shield. If he did so with the reverse of his lance, the trial of skill was made with what were called the arms of courtesy. That is, with lances at whose extremity a piece of round, flat board was fixed, so that no danger was encountered save from the shock of the horses and riders. But if the shield was touched with the sharp end of the lance, the combat was understood to be at outrance. That is, the knights were to fight with sharp weapons as in actual battle. Thirdly, When the knights present had accomplished their vow, by each of them breaking five lances, the prince was to declare the victor in the first day's tourney, who should receive as prize a war-horse of exquisite beauty and matchless strength, and in addition to this reward of valor, it was now declared he should have the peculiar honor of naming the queen of love and beauty, by whom the prize should be given on the ensuing day.
Fourthly, It was announced that on the second day there should be a general tournament in which all the knights present who were desirous to win praise might take part, and, being divided into two bands of equal numbers, might fight it out manfully until the signal was given by Prince John to cease the combat. The elected queen of love and beauty was then to crown the knight, whom the prince should adjudge to have borne himself best in this second day, With a coronet composed of thin gold plate, cut into the shape of a laurel crown. On this second day, the nightly games ceased. But on that which was to follow, feats of archery, of bull-baiting, and other popular amusements were to be practiced for the more immediate amusement of the populace.
In this manner did Prince John endeavor to lay the foundation of a popularity which he was perpetually throwing down by some inconsiderate act of wanton aggression upon the feelings and prejudices of the people. The list now presented a most splendid spectacle. The sloping galleries were crowded with all that was noble, great, wealthy, and beautiful in the northern and midland parts of England. And the contrast of the various dresses of these dignified spectators render the view as gay as it was rich, while the interior and lower space, filled with the substantial burgesses and yeomen of Merry England, formed in their more plain attire a dark fringe or border around this circle of brilliant embroidery, relieving and at the same time setting off its splendor.
The heralds finished their proclamation with their usual cry of, Largesse, Largesse, gallant knights, and gold and silver pieces were showered on them from the galleries, it being a high point of chivalry to exhibit liberality towards those whom the age accounted at once, the secretaries and the historians of honor. The bounty of the spectators was acknowledged by the customary shouts of, Love of ladies, death of champions, Honor to the generous! Glory to the brave! To which the more humble spectators added their acclamations, and a numerous band of trumpeters the flourish of their martial instruments. When these sounds had ceased, the heralds withdrew from the lists in gay and glittering procession, and none remained within them save the marshals of the field, who, armed Kappa Pai, sat on horseback.
Motionless as statues at the opposite ends of the lists. Meantime, the enclosed space at the northern extremity of the lists, large as it was, was now completely crowded with knights desirous to prove their skill against the challengers, and, when viewed from the galleries, presented the appearance of a sea of waving plumage, intermixed with glistening helmets and tall lances, To the extremities of which were, in many cases, attached small pennons about a span's breadth, which, fluttering in the air as the breeze caught them, joined with the restless motion of the feathers to add liveliness to the scene. At length the barriers were opened, and five knights, chosen by lot, advanced slowly into the area, a single champion riding in front, and the other four following in pairs.
All were splendidly armed, and my Saxon authority, in the Warder manuscript, records at greater length their devices, their colors, and the embroidery of their horse trappings. It is unnecessary to be particular on these subjects, to borrow lines from a contemporary poet who has written but too little. The knights are dust, and their good swords are rust, their souls are with the saints, we trust. Their escutcheons have long mouldered from the walls of their castles. Their castles themselves are but green mounds and shattered ruins. The place that once knew them knows them no more. Nay, many a race, since theirs has died out and been forgotten, in the very land they occupied, with all the authority of feudal proprietors and feudal lords.
What then would it avail the reader to know their names or the evanescent symbols of their martial rank? Now, however, no whit anticipating the oblivion which awaited their names and feats, the champions advanced through the lists, restraining their fiery steeds, and compelling them to move slowly, while at the same time they exhibited their paces, together with the grace and dexterity of the riders. As the procession entered the lists, the sound of a wild barbaric music was heard from behind the tents of the challengers, where the performers were concealed. It was of Eastern origin, having been brought from the Holy Land, and the mixture of the cymbals and bells seemed to bid welcome at once, and defiance, to the knights as they advanced.
With the eyes of an immense concourse of spectators fixed upon them, the five knights advanced up the platform upon which the tents of the challengers stood, and there, separating themselves, each touched slightly with the reverse of his lance, the shield of the antagonist to whom he wished to oppose himself. The lower order of spectators, in general, Nay, many of the higher class, and it is even said several of the ladies, were rather disappointed at the champions choosing the arms of courtesy. For the same sort of persons who, in the present day, applaud most highly the deepest tragedies, were then interested in a tournament exactly in proportion to the danger incurred by the champions engaged.
Having intimated their more pacific purpose, The champions retreated to the extremity of the lists, where they remained drawn up in a line, while the challengers, sallying each from his pavilion, mounted their horses and, headed by Brian de Bois-Guilbert, descended from the platform and opposed themselves individually to the knights who had touched their respective shields. At the flourish of clarions and trumpets, they started out against each other at full gallop. And such was the superior dexterity or good fortune of the challengers, that those opposed to Bois-Gilbert, Malvoisin, and Fronteboeuf rolled on the ground. The antagonist of Grandes Mesnys, instead of bearing his lance-point far against the crest or the shield of his enemy, swerved so much from the direct line as to break the weapon athwart the person of his opponent.
A circumstance which was accounted more disgraceful than that of actually being unhorsed, because the latter might happen from accident, whereas the former evinced awkwardness and want of management of the weapon and of the horse. The fifth knight alone maintained the honour of his party, and parted fairly with the knight of St. John, both splintering their lances without advantage on either side. The shouts of the multitude, together with the acclamations of the heralds and the clangor of the trumpets, announced the triumph of the victors and the defeat of the vanquished. The former retreated to their pavilions, and the latter, gathering themselves up as they could, withdrew from the lists in disgrace and dejection, to agree with their victors concerning the redemption of their arms and their horses, which, according to the laws of the tournament, they had forfeited.
The fifth of their number alone tarried in the lists long enough to be greeted by the applauses of the spectators, amongst whom he retreated to the aggravation, doubtless of his companion's mortification. A second and a third party of knights took the field, and although they had various success, yet, upon the whole, the advantage decidedly remained with the challengers, not one of whom lost his seat or swerved from his charge, Misfortunes which befell one or two of their antagonists in each encounter. The spirits, therefore, of those opposed to them seemed to be considerably damped by their continued success. Three knights only appeared on the fourth entry, who, avoiding the shields of Bois-Gilbert and Frontenbeuf, contented themselves with touching those of the three other knights, who had not altogether manifested the same strength and dexterity.
This politic selection did not alter the fortune of the field. The challengers were still successful. One of their antagonists was overthrown, and both the others failed in the attaint, that is, in striking the helmet and shield of their antagonist firmly and strongly, with the lance held in a direct line, so that the weapon might break unless the champion was overthrown. Begin note about attaint. This term of chivalry transferred to the law gives the phrase of being attainted of treason.
After this fourth encounter there was a considerable pause, nor did it appear that any one was very desirous of renewing the contest. The spectators murmured among themselves, for among the challengers, Malvoisin and Frontenbouffe were unpopular from their characters, and the others, except Gramesnil, were disliked as strangers and foreigners. But none shared the general feeling of dissatisfaction so keenly as Cedric the Saxon, who saw in each advantage gained by the Norman challengers a repeated triumph over the honor of England. His own education had taught him no skill in the games of chivalry, although with the arms of his Saxon ancestors he had manifested himself on many occasions a brave and determined soldier.
He looked anxiously to Athelstein, who had learned the accomplishments of the age, as if desiring that he should make some personal effort to recover the victory which was passing into the hands of the Templar and his associates. But though both stout of heart and strong of person, athelstane had a disposition too inert and unambitious to make the exertions which Cedric seemed to expect from him. "'The day is against England, my lord,' said Cedric, in a marked tone. "'Are you not tempted to take the lance?' "'I shall tilt to-morrow,' answered athelstane. "'In the melee. It is not worth while for me to arm myself to-day.' Two things displeased Cedric in this speech. It contained the Norman word, mele, to express the general conflict, and it evinced some indifference to the honor of the country.
But it was spoken by Athelstane, whom he held in such profound respect that he would not trust himself to canvass his motives or his foibles. Moreover, he had no time to make any remark, for Wamba thrust in his sword, observing, It was better, though scarce easier, to be the best man among a hundred than the best man of two.
Athelstain took the observation as a serious compliment, but Cedric, who better understood the jester's meaning, darted him a severe and menacing look, and it was lucky for Wamba, perhaps, that the time and place prevented his receiving, notwithstanding his place and service, more sensible marks of his master's resentment. The pause in the tournament was still uninterrupted, excepting by the voices of the heralds exclaiming, Love of ladies, splintering of lances, Stand forth, gallant knights, Fair eyes, look upon your deeds. The music also of the challengers breathed from time to time, wild bursts expressive of triumph or defiance, while the clowns grudged a holiday which seemed to pass away in activity.
And old knights and nobles lamented in whispers the decay of martial spirit, spoke of the triumphs of their younger days, but agreed that the land did not now supply dames of such transcendent beauty as had animated the jousts of former times. Prince John began to talk to his attendants about making ready the banquet, And the necessity of adjudging the prize to Brian de Bois-Gilbert, who had, with a single spear, overthrown two knights, and foiled a third. At length, as the Saracenic music of the challengers concluded, one of those long and high flourishes with which they had broken the silence of the lists, it was answered by a solitary trumpet, which breathed a note of defiance from the northern extremity.
All eyes were turned to see the new champion which these sounds announced, and no sooner were the barriers opened than he paced into the lists. As far as could be judged of a man sheathed in armor, the new adventurer did not greatly exceed the middle size, and seemed to be rather slender than strongly made. His suit of armor was formed of steel, Richly inlaid with gold, and the device on his shield was a young oak-tree pulled up by the roots, with the Spanish word, desiccado, signifying disinherited. He was mounted on a gallant black horse, and as he passed through the lists, he gracefully saluted the prince and the ladies by lowering his lance. The dexterity with which he managed his steed And something of a youthful grace which he displayed in his manner won him the favor of the multitude, which some of the lower classes expressed by calling out, Touch Ralph de Vipon's shield, touch the Hospitaller's shield.
He has the least sure seat. He is your cheapest bargain. The champion, moving onward amid these well-meant hints, ascended the platform by the sloping alley which led to it from the lists. And to the astonishment of all present, riding straight up to the central pavilion, struck with the sharp end of his spear the shield of Brian de Boisguilbert until it rang again. All stood astonished at his presumption, but none more than the redoubted knight whom he had thus defied to mortal combat, and who, little expecting so rude a challenge, was standing carelessly at the door of the pavilion. "'Have you confessed yourself, brother?' said the Templar. "'And have you heard mass this morning, that you peril your life so frankly?' "'I am fitter to meet death than thou art,' answered the disinherited knight, for by this name the stranger had recorded himself in the books of the tourney.
"'Then take your place in the lists,' said Bois-guilbert, "'and look your last upon the sun, for this knight Thou shalt sleep in paradise. "'Gras merci for thy courtesy,' replied the disinherited knight. "'And to requite it, I advise thee to take a fresh horse and a new lance, for by my honour you will need both.' Having expressed himself thus confidently, he reined his horse backward down the slope to which he had ascended, And compelled him in the same manner to move backward through the lists till he reached the northern extremity, where he remained stationary in expectation of his antagonist. This feat of horsemanship again attracted the applause of the multitude. However incensed at his adversary for the precautions which he recommended, Brian de Bois-Gilbert did not neglect his advice.
For his honor was too nearly concerned to permit his neglecting any means which might ensure victory over his presumptuous opponent. He changed his horse for a proved and fresh one of great strength and spirit. He chose a new and tough spear, lest the wood of the former might have been strained in the previous encounters he had sustained. Lastly, he laid aside his shield, which had received some little damage, and received another from his squires. His first had only borne the general device of his rider, representing two knights riding upon one horse, an emblem expressive of the original humility and poverty of the Templars, qualities which they had since exchanged for the arrogance and wealth that finally occasioned their suppression.
Bois-Gilbert's new shield bore a raven in full flight, holding in its claws a skull, and bearing the motto, Gare le Corbeau.
When the two champions stood opposed to each other at the two extremities of the lists, the public expectation was strained to the highest pitch. Few augured the possibility that the encounter could terminate well for the disinherited knight. Yet his courage and gallantry secured the general good wishes of the spectators.
Trumpets had no sooner given the signal than the champions vanished from their posts with the speed of lightning, and closed in the center of the list with the shock of a thunderbolt. The lances burst into shivers up to the very grasp, and it seemed at the moment that both knights had fallen, for the shock had made each horse recoil backward upon its haunches. The address of the riders recovered their steeds by use of the bridle and spur, and having glared on each other for an instant with eyes which seemed to flash fire through the bars of their visors, each made a demivolt, and, retiring to the extremity of the lists, received a fresh lance from the attendants. A loud shout from the spectators waving of scarves and handkerchiefs and general acclamations attested the interest taken by the spectators in this encounter, and most equal as well as the best performed which had graced the day.
But no sooner had the nights resumed their station than the clamor of applause was hushed into a silence so deep and so dead that it seemed the multitude were afraid even to breathe. A few minutes' pause having been allowed, that the combatants and their horses might recover breath, Prince John with his truncheon signed to the trumpets to sound the onset. The champions a second time sprung from their stations and closed in the centre of the lists with the same speed, the same dexterity, the same violence, but not the same equal fortune as before. In this second encounter, the Templar aimed at the centre of his antagonist's shield, and struck it so far and forcibly that his spear went to shivers, and the disinherited knight reeled in his saddle.
On the other hand, that champion had, in the beginning of his career, directed the point of his lance toward Boisguilbert's shield, but— Changing his aim almost in the moment of encounter, he addressed it to the helmet, a mark more difficult to hit, but which, if attained, rendered the shock more irresistible. Fair and true, he hit the Norman on the visor, where his lance's point kept hold of the bars. Yet even at this disadvantage the Templar sustained his high reputation, and had not the girths of his saddle burst, he might not have been unhorsed. As it chanced, however, saddle, horse, and man rolled on the ground under a cloud of dust.
To extricate himself from the stirrups and fallen steed was to the Templar scarce the work of a moment. And stung with madness, both at his disgrace and at the acclamations with which it was hailed by the spectators, he drew his sword and waved it in defiance of his conqueror. The disinherited knight sprung from his steed, and also unsheathed his sword. The marshals of the field, however, spurred their horses between them, and reminded them that the laws of the tournament did not, on the present occasion, permit this species of encounter. "'We shall meet again, I trust,' said the Templar, casting a resentful glance at his antagonist. "'And where there are none to separate us,' if we do not—' Said the disinherited knight, "'The fault shall not be mine.
On foot or horseback, with spear, with axe or with sword, I am alike ready to encounter thee.'" More and angrier words would have been exchanged, but the marshals crossing their lances betwixt them compelled them to separate. The disinherited knight returned to his first station, and Boisguilbert to his tent, where he remained for the rest of the day in an agony of despair. Without alighting from his horse, the conqueror called for a bowl of wine, and opening the beaver, or lower part of his helmet, announced that he quaffed it. To all true English hearts, and to the confusion of foreign tyrants. He then commanded his trumpet to sound a defiance to the challengers. And desired a herald to announce to them that he should make no election, but was willing to encounter them in the order in which they pleased to advance against him.
The gigantic fronteboeuf, armed in sable armor, was the first who took the field. He bore on a white shield a black bull's head, half defaced by the numerous encounters which he had undergone, and bearing the arrogant motto, Cave Adsum. Over this champion, the disinherited knight obtained a slight but decisive advantage. Both knights broke their lances fairly, but fronteboeuf, who lost a stirrup in the encounter, was adjudged to have the disadvantage.
In the stranger's third encounter with Sir Philip Melvoisin, he was equally successful. Striking that baron so forcibly on the cask, that the laces of the helmet broke, and Melvoisin, only saved from falling by being unhelmeted, was declared vanquished like his companions. In his fourth combat with the Grande Mesnil, the disinherited knight showed as much courtesy as he had hitherto evinced courage and dexterity. De Grande-Mesnil's horse, which was young and violent, reared and plunged in the course of the career so as to disturb the rider's aim, and the stranger, declining to take the advantage which this accident afforded him, raised his lance, and passing his antagonist without touching him, wheeled his horse and rode back again to his own end of the lists, offering his antagonist by a herald the chance of a second encounter.
This de Grande-Mesnil declined, avowing himself vanquished as much by the courtesy as by the address of his opponent. Ralph de Vipons summoned up the lists of the strangers' triumphs, being hurled to the ground with such force that the blood gushed from his nose and his mouth, and he was borne senseless from the lists. The acclamations of thousands applauded the unanimous award of the Prince and marshals announcing that day's honors to the disinherited knight.
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9 09 - Chapter 9 24:17
Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. Chapter Nine.
In the midst was seen a lady of more majestic mien, By stature and by beauty marked their sovereign queen. And as in beauty she surpassed the choir, So nobler than the rest was her attire. A crown of ruddy gold enclosed her brow, Plain without pomp and rich without a shell. A branch of agnes castus in her hand, She bore aloft her symbol of command. The Flower and the Leaf William de Weevil and Stephen de Martival, the Marshals of the Field, were the first to offer their congratulations to the victor, praying him at the same time to suffer his helmet to be unlaced, or, at least, that he would raise his visor ere they conducted him to receive the prize of the day's tourney from the hands of Prince John.
The disinherited knight, with all knightly courtesy, declined their request, alleging that he could not at this time suffer his face to be seen, for reasons which he had assigned to the herald when he entered the lists. The marshals were perfectly satisfied by this reply. For amidst the frequent and capricious vows, By which knights were accustomed to bind themselves in the days of chivalry, there were none more common than those by which they engaged to remain incognito for a certain space, or until some particular adventure was achieved. The marshals, therefore, pressed no farther into the mystery of the disinherited knight, but announcing to Prince John the conqueror's desire to remain unknown, They requested permission to bring him before his grace, in order that he might receive the reward of his valor.
John's curiosity was excited by the mystery observed by the stranger, and being already displeased with the issue of the tournament, in which the challengers whom he favored had been successively defeated by one knight, he answered haughtily to the marshals. By the light of our lady's brow, this same knight hath been disinherited as well of his courtesy as of his lands, since he desires to appear before us without uncovering his face. "'What ye, my lords,' he said, turning round to his train, "'who this gallant can be that bears himself thus proudly?' "'I cannot guess,' answered de Bracy. Nor did I think that there had been within the four seas that girthed Britain a champion that could bear down these five knights in one day's jousting.
By my faith, I shall never forget the fourth with which he shocked Vipon. The poor hospitaller was hurled from his saddle like a stone from a sling. Boast not of that, said a knight of St. John, who was present. Your temple champion had no better luck. I saw your brave lance, Boisguilbert, roll thrice over, grasping his hands full of sand at every turn. De Bracy, being attached to the Templars, would have replied, but was prevented by Prince John. "'Silent, sirs,' he said. "'What unprofitable debate have we here?' "'The victor,' said de Weevil, "'still waits the pleasure of your highness.' "'It is our pleasure,' answered John, "'that he do so wait until we learn whether there is not some one who can at least guess at his name and quality.
Should he remain there till nightfall, he has had his work enough to keep him warm.' "'Your grace,' said Waldemar Fitzgerald, "'will do less than due honour to the victor if you compel him to wait till we tell your Highness that which we cannot know.' At least I can form no guess, unless he be one of the good lances who accompanied King Richard to Palestine, and who are now straggling homeward from the Holy Land. It may be the Earl of Salisbury, said de Bracy. He is about the same pitch. Sir Thomas de Moulton, the Knight of Gisland, rather, said Fitzgerald. Salisbury is bigger in the bones. A whisperer rose among the train, but by whom first suggested could not be ascertained. It might be the king.
It might be Richard, Que de Lyon himself. Over God's forebode, said Prince John, involuntarily turning at the same time as pale as death, and shrinking as if blighted by a flash of lightning. Valdemar de Bracy, brave knights and gentlemen, remember your promises and stand truly by me. Here is no danger impending, said Valdemar Fitzherst. Are you so little acquainted with the gigantic limbs of your father's son as to think they can be held within the circumference of yonder suit of armor? De Wevel and Martival, you will best serve the prince by bringing forward the victor to the throne, and ending an error that has conjured all the blood from his cheeks. Look at him more closely," he continued.
Your Highness will see that he wants three inches of King Richard's height, and twice as much of his shoulder-breadth. The very horse he backs could not have carried the ponderous weight of King Richard through a single course. While he was yet speaking, the marshals brought forward the disinherited knight to the foot of a wooden flight of steps, which formed the ascent from the list to Prince John's throne. Still discomposed with the idea that his brother, so much injured, and to whom he was so much indebted, had suddenly arrived in his native kingdom Even the distinctions pointed out by Fitzherst did not altogether remove the prince's apprehensions. And while, with a short and embarrassed eulogy upon his valour, he caused to be delivered to him the war-horse assigned as the prize, he trembled lest from the barred visor of the mailed form before him an answer might be returned in the deep and awful accents of Richard the Lionhearted.
But the disinherited knight spoke not a word in reply to the compliment of the prince, which he only acknowledged with a profound obeisance. The horse was led into the lists by two grooms, richly dressed, the animal itself being fully accoutred with the richest war furniture, which, however scarcely added to the value of the noble creature in the eyes of those who were judges, laying one hand upon the pommel of the saddle, The disinherited knight vaulted at once upon the back of the steed without making use of the stirrup, and, brandishing aloft his lance, rode twice around the lists, exhibiting the points and paces of the horse with the skill of a perfect horseman. The appearance of vanity which might otherwise have been attributed to this display was removed by the propriety shown in exhibiting to the best advantage the princely reward with which he had been just honored, and the knight was again greeted by the acclamations of all present.
In the meanwhile, the bustling prior of Gervaux had reminded Prince John, in a whisper, that the victor must now display his good judgment, instead of his valor, by selecting from among the beauties who graced the galleries a lady who should fill the throne of the queen of beauty and of love, and deliver the prize of the tourney upon the ensuing day. The prince accordingly made a sign with his truncheon, as the knight passed him in his second career around the lists. The knight turned towards the throne, and, sinking his lance until the point was within a foot of the ground, remained motionless, as if expecting John's commands, while all admired the sudden dexterity with which he instantly reduced his fiery steed from a state of violent emotion and high excitation to the stillness of an equestrian statue.
"'Sir, disinherited knight,' said Prince John, Since that is the only title by which we can address you, it is now your duty, as well as privilege, to name the fair lady who, as queen of honor and of love, is to preside over next day's festival. If, as a stranger in our land, you should require the aid of other judgment to guide your own, We can only say that Alicia, the daughter of our gallant knight, Valdemar Viziers, has at our court been long held the first in beauty as in place. Nevertheless, it is your undoubted prerogative to confer on whom you please this crown, by the delivery of which to the lady of your choice the election of tomorrow's queen will be formal and complete. Raise your lance.
The knight obeyed, and Prince John placed upon its point a coronet of green satin, having around its edge a circlet of gold, the upper edge of which was relieved by arrow points and hearts placed interchangeably, like the strawberry leaves and balls upon a ducal crown. In the broad hint which he dropped respecting the daughter of Waldemar Fitzsirce, John had more than one motive, Each the offspring of a mind which was a strange mixture of carelessness and presumption with low artifice and cunning. He wished to banish from the minds of the chivalry around him his own indecent and unacceptable jest, respecting the Jewess Rebekah. He was desirous of conciliating Alicia's father, Waldemar, of whom he stood in awe, and who had more than once shown himself dissatisfied during the course of the day's proceedings.
He had also a wish to establish himself in the good graces of the lady, for John was at least as licentious in his pleasures as profligate in his ambition. But besides, all these reasons he was desirous to raise up against the disinherited knight towards whom he already entertained a strong dislike, A powerful enemy in the person of Aldemar Fitzherz, who was likely, he thought, highly to resent the injury done to his daughter in case, as was not unlikely, the victor should make another choice. And so, indeed, it proved. For the disinherited knight passed the gallery, close to that of the prince in which the Lady Alicia was seated, in the full pride of triumphant beauty, And, pacing forwards as slowly as he had hitherto rode swiftly around the lists, he seemed to exercise his right of examining the numerous fair faces which adorned that splendid circle.
It was worthwhile to see the different conduct of the beauties who underwent this examination, during the time it was proceeding. Some blushed, some assumed an air of pride and dignity, Some looked straight forward, and essayed to seem utterly unconscious of what was going on. Some drew back in alarm, which was perhaps affected. Some endeavoured to forbear smiling. And there were two or three who laughed outright. There were also some who dropped their veils over their charms, but as the Warder manuscript says, these were fair ones of ten years standing. It may be supposed that, having had their full share of such vanities, they were willing to withdraw their claim in order to give a fair chance to the rising beauties of the age.
At length, the champion paused beneath the balcony in which the Lady Rowena was placed, and the expectation of the spectators was excited to the utmost. It must be owned that, if an interest displayed in his success could have bribed the disinherited knight, the part of the lists before which he paused had merited his predilection. Cedric the Saxon, overjoyed at the discomfiture of the Templar, and still more so at the miscarriage of his two melancholy neighbours, fronteboeuf and malvoisin, Had, with his body half-stretched over the balcony, accompanied the victor in each course, not with his eyes only, but with his whole heart and soul. The Lady Rowena had watched the progress of the day with equal attention, though without openly betraying the same intense interest.
Even the unmoved Athelstane had shown symptoms of shaking off his apathy when calling for a huge goblet of muscadine, He quaffed it to the health of the disinherited knight. Another group, stationed under the gallery occupied by the Saxons, had shown no less interest in the fate of the day. "'Father Abraham,' said Isaac of York, when the first course was run betwixt the Templar and the disinherited knight, "'how fiercely that genteel rides!' Ah, the good horse that was brought all the long way from Barbary! He takes no more care of him than if he were a wild ass's colt. And the noble armour that was worth so many seconds to Joseph Perea, the armour of Milan, besides seventy in the hundred of profits, he cares for it as little as if he had found it in the highways.
"'If he risks his own person and limbs, father,' said Rebekah, In doing such a dreadful battle, he can scarce be expected to spare his horse and armor. "'Child,' replied Isaac, somewhat heeded, "'thou knowest not what thou speakest. His neck and limbs are his own, but his horse and armor belong to—' Holy Jacob! What was I about to say? Nevertheless, it is a good youth. See, Rebecca? See? He is again about to go up to battle against the Philistine.' Pray, child, pray for the safety of the good youth, and of the speedy horse and the rich armor. God of my fathers, he again exclaimed, he hath conquered, and the uncircumcised Philistine hath fallen before his lance, even as Og the king of Bashan and Sihon, king of the Amorites, fell before the sword of our fathers.
Surely he shall take their gold and their silver, and their war-horses, and their armor of brass and of steel for a prey and for a spoil. The same anxiety did the worthy Jew display during every course that was run, seldom failing to hazard a hasty calculation concerning the value of the horse and armor which were forfeited to the champion upon each new success. There had been, therefore, no small interest taken in the success of the disinherited knight. by those who occupied the part of the lists before which he now paused. Whether from indecision or some other motive of hesitation, the champion of the day remained stationary for more than a minute, while the eyes of the silent audience were riveted upon his motions.
And then, gradually and gracefully, sinking the point of his lance, he deposited the coronet which it supported at the feet of the fair Rowena. The trumpets instantly sounded, while the heralds proclaimed the Lady Rowena the queen of beauty and of love for the ensuing day, menacing with suitable penalties those who should be disobedient to her authority. Then they repeated their cry of Largesse, to which Cedric, in the height of his joy, replied by an ample donative, and to which Athelstain, though less promptly, added one equally large. There was some murmuring among the damsels of Norman descent, who were as much unused to see the preference given to a Saxon beauty as the Norman nobles were to sustain defeat in the games of chivalry which they themselves had introduced.
But these sounds of disaffection were drowned by the popular shout of, "'Long live the Lady Rowena, the chosen and lawful queen of love and beauty!' to which many in the lower area added, Long live the Saxon princess! Long live the race of the immortal Alfred! However unacceptable these sounds might be to Prince John and to those around him, he saw himself nevertheless obliged to confirm the nomination of the victor, and accordingly calling to horse, he left his throne and mounted his genet. Accompanied by his train, he again entered the lists. The prince paused a moment beneath the gallery of the lady Alicia, to whom he paid his compliments, observing at the same time to those around him. By my hallowedom, sirs, if the knight's feet and arms have shown that he hath limbs and sinews, his choice hath no less proved that his eyes are none of the clearest.
It was on this occasion as during his whole life, John's misfortune not perfectly to understand the characters of those whom he wished to conciliate. Waldemar Fitzgerald was rather offended than pleased at the prince stating thus broadly an opinion that his daughter had been slighted. "'I know no right of chivalry,' he said. More precious or inalienable than that of each free knight to choose his lady-love by his own judgment. My daughter courts distinction from no one, and in her own character, and in her own sphere, will never fail to receive the full proportion of that which is her due. Prince John replied not. But, spurring his horse as if to give vent to his vexation, he made the animal bound forward to the gallery where Rowena was seated, with the crown still at her feet.
Assume, he said, fair lady, the mark of your sovereignty, to which none vows homage more sincerely than ourself, John of Anjou, And if it please you to-day, with your noble sire and friends, to grace our banquet in the castle of Ashby, we shall learn to know the Empress to whose service we devote to-morrow. Rowena remained silent, and Cedric answered for her in his native Saxon. "'The Lady Rowena,' he said, "'possesses not the language in which to reply to your courtesy, or to sustain her part in your festival.' I also, and the noble Atelstein of Konigsberg, speak only the language and practice, only the manners of our fathers. We therefore decline with thanks to your Highness's courteous invitation to the banquet.
To-morrow, the Lady Rowena will take upon her the state to which she has been called by the free election of the victor knight, confirmed by the acclamations of the people. So saying, he lifted the coronet and placed it upon Rowena's head, in token of her acceptance of the temporary authority assigned to her. "'What says he?' said Prince John, affecting not to understand the Saxon language in which, however, he was well skilled. The purport of Cedric's speech was repeated to him in French. "'It is well,' he said. "'Tomorrow we will ourself conduct this mute sovereign to her seat of dignity.' "'You, at least, Sir Knight,' he added, turning to the victor who had remained near the gallery, "'will this day share our banquet?' The Knight, speaking for the first time, in a low and hurried voice, excused himself by pleading fatigue and the necessity of preparing for tomorrow's encounter.
"'It is well,' said Prince John haughtily. Although unused to such refusals, we will endeavor to digest our banquet as we may, though ungraced by the most successful in arms and his elected queen of beauty. So saying, he prepared to leave the lists with his glittering train, and his turning his steed for that purpose was the signal for the breaking up and dispersion of the spectators. Yet with the vindictive memory proper to offended pride, Especially when combined with conscious want of desert, John had hardly proceeded three paces ere again. Turning around, he fixed an eye of stern resentment upon the yeomen who had displeased him in the early part of the day, and issued his commands to the men-at-arms who stood near.
On your life, suffer not that fellow to escape. The yeoman stood the angry glance of the prince with the same unvaried steadiness which had marked his former disportment, saying, with a smile, "'I have no intention to leave Ashby until the day after tomorrow. I must see how Staffordshire and Leicestershire can draw their bows. The forests of Needwood and Charnwood must rear good archers.' "'Aye,' said Prince John to his attendants, but not in direct reply, I will see how he can draw his own, and woe betide him unless his skill should prove some apology for his insolence. It is full time, said de Bracy, that the outrequidance of these peasants should be restrained by some striking example. Waldemar Fitzherst, who, probably though his patron was not taking the readiest road to popularity, shrugged up his shoulders and was silent.
Prince John resumed his retreat from the lists, and the dispersion of the multitude became general. In various routes, according to the different quarters from which they came, and in various groups of various numbers, the spectators were seen retiring over the plain. By far the most numerous parts streamed towards the town of Ashby, where many of the distinguished persons were lodged in the castle, and where others found accommodation in the town itself. Among these were most of the knights, who had already appeared in the tournament, or who proposed to fight there the ensuing day, and who, as they rode slowly along, talking over the events of the day, were greeted with loud shouts by the populace.
The same acclamations were bestowed upon Prince John, although he was indebted for them rather to the splendour of his appearance and train than the popularity of his character. A more sincere and more general, as well as a better-merited acclamation, attended the victor of the day, until, anxious to withdraw himself from popular notice, he accepted the accommodation of one of those pavilions pitched at the extremities of the lists, the use of which was courteously tendered him by the marshals of the field. On his retiring to his tent, many who had lingered in the lists to look upon and form conjectures concerning him also dispersed. The signs and sounds of a tumultuous concourse of men, lately crowded together in one place, and agitated by the same passing events, were now exchanged for the distant hum of voices of different groups retreating in all directions, and these speedily died away in silence.
No other sounds were heard save the voices of the maniols who stripped the galleries of their cushions and tapestry, in order to put them in safety for the night, and wrangled among themselves for the half-used bottles of wine and relics of the refreshment which had been served round to the spectators. Beyond the precincts of the lists more than one forge was erected, and these now began to glimmer through the twilight, announcing the toil of the armorers, which was to continue through the whole night in order to repair or alter the suits of armor to be used again on the morrow. A strong guard of men-at-arms, renewed at intervals from two hours to two hours, surrounded the lists and kept watch during the night.
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10 10 - Chapter 10 26:40
X. Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. Chapter 10.
Thus, like the sad, presaging raven that tolls the sick man's passport in her hollow beak, and in the shadow of the silent night doth shake contagion from her sable wings, vexed and tormented runs poor Barabas with fatal curses towards these Christians. Jew of Malta.
The disinherited knight had no sooner reached his pavilion than squires and pages in abundance tendered their services to disarm him, to bring fresh attire, and to offer him the refreshment of the bath. Their zelle on this occasion was perhaps sharpened by curiosity, since every one desired to know who the knight was that had gained so many laurels, yet had refused, even at the command of Prince John, to lift his visor or to name his name. But their officious inquisitiveness was not gratified. The disinherited knight refused all other assistance save that of his own squire, or rather yeoman, a clownish-looking man, who, wrapped in a cloak of dark-colored felt, and having his head and face half buried in a Norman bonnet, made of black fur, seemed to affect the incognito as much as his master.
All others being excluded from the tent, this attendant relieved his master from the more burdensome parts of his armor, and placed food and wine before him, which the exertions of the day rendered very acceptable. The knight had scarcely finished a hasty meal ere his menial announced to him that five men, each leading a barbed steed, desired to speak with him. The disinherited knight had exchanged his armor for the long robe usually worn by those of his condition, which, being furnished with a hood, concealed with the features, when such was the pleasure of the wearer, almost as completely as the visor of the helmet itself. But the twilight, which was now fast darkening, would of itself have rendered a disguise unnecessary, unless to persons to whom the face of an individual chanced to be particularly well known.
The disinherited knight, therefore, stepped boldly forth to the front of his tent, and found in attendance the squires of the challengers, whom he easily knew by their russet and black dresses, each of whom led his master's charger, loaded with the armour in which he had that day fought. According to the laws of chivalry, said the foremost of these men, I, Baldwin de Oilly, squire to the redoubted knight, Brian de Boisguilbert, Make offer to you, styling yourself for the present, the disinherited knight, of the horse and armor used by the said Brian de Boisguilbert in this day's passage of arms, leaving it with your nobleness to retain or to ransom the same, according to your pleasure. For such is the law of arms.
The other squires repeated nearly the same formula, and then stood to await the decision of the disinherited knight. "'To you, four—sirs,' replied the knight, addressing those who had last spoken, "'and to your honorable and valiant masters, I have one common reply.' Commend me to the noble knights, your masters, and say, I should do ill to deprive them of steeds and arms which can never be used by braver cavaliers. I would I could hear and my message to these gallant knights, but, being, as I term myself, in truth and earnest the disinherited, I must be thus far bound to your masters, that they will, of their courtesy, "'Be pleased to ransom their steeds and armor, since that which I wear I can hardly term mine own.' "'We stand commissioned, each of us,' answered the squire of Retinot-Fronte-Boeuf, "'to offer a hundred zecins in ransom of these horses and suits of armor.' "'It is sufficient,' said the disinherited knight.
"'Half the sum my present necessities compel me to accept, of the remaining half, Distribute one moiety among yourselves, sirs squires, and divide the other half betwixt the heralds and the pursuivants, and minstrels and attendants.
The squires, with cap in hand, and low reverences, expressed their deep sense of a courtesy and generosity not often practiced, at least upon a scale so extensive. The disinherited knight then addressed his discourse to Baldwin, the squire of Brian de Boisguilbert. "'From your master,' said he, "'I will accept neither arms nor ransom. Say to him in my name that our strife is not ended. No, not till we have fought as well with swords as with lances, as well on foot as on horseback.' To this mortal quarrel he has himself defied me, and I shall not forget the challenge. Meantime Let him be assured that I hold him not as one of his companions, with whom I can with pleasure exchange courtesies, but rather as one with whom I stand upon terms of mortal defiance.
"'My master,' answered Baldwin, "'knows how to requite scorn with scorn, and blows with blows, as well as courtesy with courtesy,' Since you disdain to accept from him any share of the ransom at which you have raided the arms of the other knights, I must leave his armor and his horse here, being well assured that he will never deign to mount the one, nor wear the other. "'You have spoken well, good squire,' said the disinherited knight, "'well and boldly, as it beseemeth him to speak who answers for an absent master. Leave not, however, the horse and armor here.' Restore them to thy master, or, if he scorns to accept them, retain them, good friend, for thine own use. So far as they are mine, I bestow them upon you freely.
Baldwin made a deep obeisance, and retired with his companions, and the disinherited knight entered the pavilion.
Thus far, good. said he, addressing his attendant. The reputation of English chivalry hath not suffered in my hands. And I, said Girth, for a Saxon swineherd have not ill-played the personage of a Norman squire-at-arms. Yea, but, answered the disinherited knight, thou hast ever kept me in anxiety, lest thy clownish bearing should discover thee. Tush! said Girth, I fear discovery from no one. Saving my playfellow, Wamba, the jester, of whom I could never discover whether he were most knave or fool. Yet I could scarce choose but laugh when my old master passed so near to me, dreaming all the while that Girth was keeping his porkers many a mile off, in the thickets and swamps of Rotherwood. "'If I am discovered—' "'Enough,' said the disinherited knight.
"'Thou knowest my promise.' "'Nay, for that matter,' said Girth, I will never fail my friend for fear of my skin-cutting. I have a tough hide, that will bear knife or scourge as well as any boar's hide in my herd. Trust me, I will requite the risk you run for my love, Girt, said the knight. Meanwhile, I pray you to accept these ten pieces of gold.
I am richer, said Girt, putting them into his pouch, than ever was swineherd or bondsman. Take this bag of gold to Ashby, continued his master, and find out Isaac, the Jew of York, and let him pay himself for the horse and arms with which his credit supplied me.
Nay, by St. Dunstan, replied Goethe, that I will not do. How, knave, replied his master, wilt thou not obey my commands? So they be honest, reasonable, and Christian commands, replied Goethe. But this is none of these. To suffer the Jew to pay himself would be dishonest, for it would be cheating my master, and unreasonable, for it were the part of a fool, and unchristian, since it would be plundering a believer to enrich an infidel. See him contented, however, thou stubborn varlet, said the disinherited knight. I will do so, said Girth. Taking the bag under his cloak, and leaving the apartment. And it will go hard," he muttered, but I content him with one half of his own asking. So saying, he departed, and left the disinherited knight to his own perplexed ruminations, which upon more accounts than it is now possible to communicate to the reader were of a nature peculiarly agitating and painful.
We must now change the scene to the village of Ashby, Or rather to a country house in its vicinity, belonging to a wealthy Israelite, with whom Isaac, his daughter, and retinue had taken up their quarters. The Jews, it is well known, being as liberal in exercising the duties of hospitality and charity among their own people as they were alleged to be reluctant and churlish in extending them to those whom they termed genteels, And whose treatment of them certainly merited little hospitality at their hand. In an apartment, small indeed, but richly furnished with decorations of an oriental taste, Rebeca was seated on a heap of embroidered cushions, which, piled along a low platform that surrounded the chamber, served like the estrada of the Spaniards, instead of chairs or stools.
She was watching the motions of her father with a look of anxious and filial affection, while he paced the apartment with a dejected mien and disordered step, sometimes clasping his hands together, sometimes casting his eyes to the roof of the apartment as one who labored under great mental tribulation. "'Oh, Jacob!' he exclaimed. "'Oh, all ye twelve holy fathers of our tribe, What a losing venture is this for one who hath duly kept every jot and title of the law of Moses.
Fifty seconds wrenched from me at one clutch, and by the talons of a tyrant. But, Father, said Rebekah, you seemed to give the gold to Prince John willingly. Willingly! Blot of Egypt upon him. Willingly set thou, I, as willingly as when, in the Gulf of Lyons, I flung over my merchandise to lighten the ship while she labored in the tempest, robbed the seething billows in my choice silks, perfumed their briny foam with myrrh and aloes, enriched their caverns with gold and silverwork. And was not that an hour of unutterable misery, though my own hands made the sacrifice? But it was a sacrifice which heaven exacted to save our lives, answered Rebekah. And the God of our fathers has since blessed your store with your gettings.
Aye, answered Isaac. But if the tyrant lays hold on them as he did to-day, and compels me to smile while he is robbing me, O daughter, disinherited and wandering as we are, the worst evil which befalls our race is that when we are wronged and plundered, all the world laughs around, and we are compelled to suppress our sense of injury, and to smile tamely when we would revenge bravely. Think not thus of it, my father, said Rebekah. We also have advantages. These genteels, cruel and oppressive as they are, are in some sort dependent on the dispersed children of Zion, whom they despise and persecute. Without the aid of our wealth, they could neither furnish forth their hosts in war, nor their triumphs in peace.
And the gold which we lend them returns with increase to our coffers. We are like the herb which flourisheth most when it is most trampled on. Even this day's pageant had not proceeded without the consent of the despised Jew who furnished the means. Daughter, said Isaac, thou hast harped upon another string of sorrow, the goodly steed and the rich armour, equal to the full profit of my adventure with our Kirjath Jairam of Leicester. There's a dead loss too, aye, a loss which swallows up the gains of a week, aye, of the space between two sabbaths, And yet it may end better than I now think, for tis a good youth. Assuredly, said Rebekah, you shall not repent you of requiting the good deed received of the stranger knight.
I trust so, daughter, said Isaac, and I trust too in the rebuilding of Zion. But as well do I hope with my own bodily eyes to see the walls and battlements of the new temple, as to see a Christian Yea, the very best of Christians repay a debt to a Jew, unless under the awe of the judge and jailer.
So saying, he resumed his discontented walk through the apartment, and Rebekah, perceiving that her attempts at consolation only served to awaken new subjects of complaint, wisely desisted from her unavailing efforts. A prudential line of conduct, and we recommend to all who set up for comforters and advisers to follow it in like circumstances.
The evening was now becoming dark, when a Jewish servant entered the apartment and placed upon the table two silver lamps fed with perfumed oil. The richest wines and the most delicate refreshments were at the same time displayed by another Israelitish domestic on a small ebony table, inlaid with silver, for in the interior of their houses the Jews refused themselves no expensive indulgences.
At the same time the servant informed Isaac that a Nazarene, so they termed Christians while conversing among themselves, desired to speak with him. He that would live by traffic must hold himself at the disposal of every one claiming business with him. Isaac at once replaced on the table the untasted glass of Greek wine, which he had just raised to his lips, and saying hastily to his daughter, Rebekah, fail thyself, commanded the stranger to be admitted.
Just as Rebekah had dropped over her fine features a screen of silver gauze which had reached to her feet, the door opened and Girth entered, wrapped in the ample folds of his Norman mantle. His appearance was rather suspicious than prepossessing, especially as, instead of doffing his bonnet, he pulled it still deeper over his rugged brow. "'Art thou, Isaac, the Jew of York?' said Goethe, in Saxon. "'I am,' replied Isaac, in the same language, for his traffic had rendered every tongue spoken in Britain familiar to him. "'And who art thou?' "'That is not for the purpose,' answered Goethe. "'As much as my name is to thee,' replied Isaac, "'for without knowing thine, how can I hold intercourse with thee?' "'Easily,' answered Goethe.
"'I, being to pay money, must know that I deliver it to the right person. Thou, who are to receive it, wilt not, I think, care very greatly by whose hands it is delivered.' "'Oh,' said the Jew, "'you are come to pay moneys?' Holy Father Abraham! That altereth our relation to each other. And from whom dost thou bring it? From the disinherited knight, said Girth, victor in this day's tournament. It is the price of the armor supplied to him by Kirjath Jairam of Leicester, on thy recommendation. The steed is restored to thy stable. I desire to know the amount of the sum which I am to pay for the armor. I said he was a good youth. exclaimed Isaac, with joyful exultation. A cup of wine will do thee no harm, he added, filling and handing to the swineherd a richer draught than Girt had ever before tasted.
And how much money, continued Isaac, hast thou brought with thee? Holy Virgin, said Girt, setting down the cup. What nectar these unbelieving dogs drink? While true Christians are fain to quaff ale as muddy and thick as the draught we give to hogs. "'What money have I brought with me?' continued the Saxon, when he had finished this uncivil ejaculation. "'Even but a small sum, something in hand the whilest. "'What, Isaac, thou must bear a conscience, though it be a Jewish one?' "'Nay, but,' said Isaac, Thy master has won goodly steeds and rich armors with the strength of his lance and of his right hand. But, "'tis a good youth. The Jew will take these in present payment, and render him back the surplus."
"'My master has disposed of them already,' said Goethe." "'Ah, that was wrong,' said the Jew. "'That was the part of a fool. No Christian here could buy so many horses and armor. No Jew except myself would give him half the values.' But thou hast a hundred zeckens with thee in that bag," said Isaac, prying under Girt's cloak. "'It is a heavy one.' "'I have heads for crossbow bolts in it,' said Girt readily. "'Well, then,' said Isaac, panting and hesitating between habitual love of gain and a new-born desire to be liberal in the present instance, "'if I should say that I would take eighty zeckens for the good steed and the rich armour, which leaves me not a gilder's profit. Have you money to pay me?"
"'Barely,' said Goethe, though the sum demanded was more reasonable than he expected. "'And it will leave my master nigh penniless. Nevertheless, if such be your least offer, I must be content.' "'Fill thyself another goblet of wine,' said the Jew. "'Ah!' Eighty seconds is too little. It leaveth no profit for the usages of the moneys. And besides, the good horse may have suffered wrong in this day's encounter. Oh, it was a hard and a dangerous meeting, man and steed rushing on each other like wild bulls of Bashan. The horse cannot but have had wrong. "'And I say,' replied Goethe, "'he is sound, wind and limb, and you may see him now in your stable. And I say, over and above, that seventy seconds is enough for the armor, and I hope a Christian's word is as good as a Jew's.
If you will not take seventy, I will carry this bag. And he shook it till the contents jingled. Back to my master. Nay, nay, said Isaac. Lay down the talents, the shekels, the eighty seconds, and thou shalt see I will consider thee liberally. Girt at length complied. And telling out eighty seconds upon the table, the Jew delivered out to him an acquittance for the horse and suit of armor. The Jew's hand trembled for joy as he wrapped up the first seventy pieces of gold. The last ten he told over with much deliberation, pausing, and saying something as he took each piece from the table and dropped it into his purse. It seemed as if his avarice were struggling with his better nature, and compelling him to pouch zekin after zekin, while his generosity urged him to restore some part, at least, to his benefactor, or as a donation to his agent.
His whole speech ran nearly thus. Seventy-one, seventy-two. Thy master is a good youth. Seventy-three. An excellent youth. Seventy-four. That piece hath been clipped within the ring. Seventy-five. And that looketh light of weight. Seventy-six. When thy master wants money, let him come to Isaac of York. Seventy-seven. That is with reasonable security. Here he made a considerable pause, and Girth had hope that the last three pieces might escape the fate of their comrades. But the enumeration proceeded. Seventy-eight. Thou art a good fellow, and deservest something for thyself. Here the Jew paused again, and looked at the last second, intending doubtless to bestow it upon Girth. He weighed it upon the tip of his finger, and made it ring by dropping it upon the table.
Had it rung too flat, or had it felt a hair's breadth too light, generosity had carried the day. But, unhappily for Goethe, the chime was full and true, the zekin plump, newly coined, and a grain above weight. Isaac could not find it in his heart to part with it, so dropped it into his purse, as if in absence of mind, with the words, Aidee completes the tale, and I trust thy master will reward thee handsomely. Surely, he added, looking earnestly at the bag, thou hast more coins in that pouch. Girt grinned, which was his nearest approach to a laugh, as he replied, "'About the same quantity which thou hast told over so carefully.' He then folded the quittance, and put it under his cap, adding, "'Peril of thy beard, Jew, see that this be full and ample.' He filled himself, unbidden, a third goblet of wine, and left the apartment without ceremony.
"'Rebecca,' said the Jew, That Ishmaelite hath gone somewhat beyond me. Nevertheless his master is a good youth. Ay, and I am well pleased that he hath gained shekels of gold, and shekels of silver, even by the speed of his horse, and by the strength of his lance, which, like that of Goliath the Philistine, might vie with the weaver's beam.
As he turned to receive Rebekah's answer, he observed that during his chaffring with Gurf she had left the apartment unperceived. In the meanwhile, Girth had descended the stair, and having reached the dark antechamber, or hall, was puzzling about to discover the entrance, when a figure in white, shown by a small silver lamp, which she held in her hand, beckoned him to a side apartment. Girth had some reluctance to obey the summons. Rough and impetuous as a wild boar, where only earthly force was to be apprehended, He had all the characteristic terrors of a Saxon respecting fawns, forest fiends, white women, and the whole of the superstitions which his ancestors had brought with them from the wilds of Germany.
He remembered, moreover, that he was in the house of a Jew, a people who, besides the other amiable qualities which popular rapport ascribed to them, were supposed to be profound necromancers and cabalists. Nevertheless, after a moment's pause, he obeyed the beckoning summons of the apparition, and followed her into the apartment which she indicated, where he found, to his joyful surprise, that his fair guide was the beautiful Jewess whom he had seen at the tournament, and a short time in her father's apartment. She asked him the particulars of his transaction with Isaac, which he detailed accurately. My father did but jest with thee, good fellow, said Rebekah. He owes thy master deeper kindness than these arms and steed could pay, were their value tenfold.
What sum didst thou pay my father even now? Eighty seconds, said Goethe, surprised at the question. In this purse, said Rebekah, thou wilt find a hundred. Restore to thy master that which is his due, and enrich thyself with the remainder. Haste, be gone. Stay not to render thanks, and beware how you pass through this crowded town, where thou mayst easily lose both thy burden and thy life. Reuben, she added, clapping her hands together, light forth this stranger, and fail not to draw lock and bar behind him. Reuben, a dark-browed and black-bearded Israelite, obeyed her summons with a torch in his hand, undid the outward door of the house, and conducting girth across a paved court. Let him out through a wicket in the entrance gate, which he closed behind him with such bolts and chains as would well have become that of a prison.
"'By St. Dunstan,' said Goethe, as he stumbled up the dark avenue, "'this is no Jewess but an angel from heaven, "'ten seconds from my brave young master, "'twenty from this pearl of Zion. "'Oh, happy day!' Such another girth will redeem thy bondage and make thee a brother as free of thy guild as the best. And then do I lay down my swineherd's horn and staff, and take the freeman's sword and buckler, and follow my young master to the death, without hiding either my face or my name.
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11 11 - Chapter 11 19:31
FIRST OUTLAW. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about you. If not, we'll make you sit and rifle you. Speed. Sir, we are undone. These are the villains that all the travelers do fear so much. Val. My friends. First out. That's not so, sir. We are your enemies. Second out. Peace. We'll hear him. Third out. Aye, by my beard, will we, for he's a proper man.
Two gentlemen of Verona. The nocturnal adventures of Goethe were not yet concluded. Indeed, he himself became partly of that mind when, after passing one or two straggling houses which stood in the outskirts of the village, he found himself in a deep lane, running between two banks overgrown with Hazel and Holly, While here and there a dwarf oak flung its arms altogether across the path. The lane was, moreover, much rudded and broken up by the carriages, which had recently transported articles of various kinds to the tournament. And it was dark, for the banks and bushes intercepted the light of the harvest moon. From the village were heard the distant sounds of revelry, Mixed occasionally with loud laughter, sometimes broken by screams, and sometimes by wild strains of distant music.
All these sounds, intimating the disorderly state of the town, crowded with military nobles and their dissolute attendants, gave Gertz some uneasiness. The Jewess was right. He said to himself, By heaven and St. Dunstan, I would I were safe at my journey's end with all this treasure. Here are such numbers I will not say errant of thieves, but of errant knights and errant squires, errant monks and errant minstrels, errant jugglers and errant jesters, that a man with a single murk would be in danger, much more a poor swineherd with a whole bagful of zekhins. Would I were out of the shade of these infernal bushes that I might at least see any of St. Nicholas's clerks before they spring on my shoulders?
Girth accordingly hastened his pace in order to gain the open common to which the lane led, but was not so fortunate as to accomplish his object. Just as he attained the upper end of the lane, where the underwood was thickest, four men sprung upon him, even as his fears anticipated, two from each side of the road, and seized him so fast that resistance, if at first practicable, would have been now too late. Surrender your charge," said one of them. We are the deliverers of the commonwealth, who ease every man of his burden. "'You should not ease me of mine so lightly,' muttered Girth, whose surly honesty could not be tamed even by the pressure of immediate violence. "'Had I it but in my power to give three strokes in its defense?' "'We shall see that presently,' said the robber, and, speaking to his companions, he added—' Bring along the knave.
I see he would have his head broken, as well as his purse cut, and so be let blood in two veins at once. Girth was hurried along agreeably to this mandate, and having been dragged somewhat roughly over the bank on the left-hand side of the lane, found himself in a straggling thicket, which lay betwixt it and the open common. He was compelled to follow his rough conductors into the very depth of this cover, where they stopped unexpectedly in an irregular open space, free in a great measure from trees, and on which, therefore, the beams of the moon fell without much interruption from boughs and leaves. Here his captors were joined by two other persons, apparently belonging to the gang. They had short swords by their sides, and quarter staves in their hands, And Girth could now observe that all six wore visors, which rendered their occupation a matter of no question, even had their former proceedings left it in doubt.
"'What money hast thou, Churl?' said one of the thieves. "'Thirty Zeckens of my own property,' answered Girth doggedly. "'A forfeit, a forfeit,' shouted the robbers. "'A saxon hath thirty Zeckens, and returned sober from a village?' An undeniable and unredeemable forfeit of all he hath about him. "'I hoarded it to purchase my freedom,' said Girth. "'Thou art an ass,' replied one of the thieves. "'Three quarts of a double ale had rendered thee as free as thy master, ay, and freer too, if he be a Saxon like thyself.' "'A sad truth,' replied Girth. But if these same thirty seconds will buy my freedom from you, unloose my hands, and I will pay them to you. Hold," said one, who seemed to exercise some authority over the others, this bag which thou bearest, as I can feel through thy cloak, contains more coin than thou hast told us of.
"'It is the good knight, my masters,' answered Girth. Of which, assuredly, I would not have spoken a word had you been satisfied with working your will upon mine own property. "'Thou art an honest fellow,' replied the robber. "'I warrant thee, and we worship not St. Nicholas so devoutly, but what thy thirty seconds may yet escape if thou deal uprightly with us. Meantime, render up thy trust for the time.' So saying, he took from Goethe's breast the large leathern pouch in which the purse given him by Rebecca was enclosed, as well as the rest of the Zechens, and then continued his interrogation. "'Who is thy master?' "'The disinherited knight,' said Goethe. "'Whose good lance,' replied the robber, "'won the prize in to-day's journey?
What is his name and lineage?' "'It is his pleasure,' answered Girth, that they be concealed, and from me assuredly you will learn naught of them.
What is thine own name and lineage? To tell that, said Girth, might reveal my master's. Thou art a saucy groom, said the robber, but of that anon. How comes thy master by this gold? Is it of his inheritance, or by what means hath it accrued to him? By his good lance. answered Goethe. These bags contain the ransom of four good horses and four good suits of armor. How much is there? demanded the robber. Two hundred Zeckons. Only two hundred Zeckons, said the bandit. Your master hath dealt liberally by the vanquished, and put them to a cheap ransom. Name those who paid the gold. Goethe did so. The armor and horse of the Templar, Brian de Boisguilbert. At what ransom were they held? Thou see'st thou canst not deceive me.
"'My master,' replied Goethe, "'will take naught from the Templar save his life's blood. They are on terms of mortal defiance, and cannot hold courteous intercourse together.' "'Indeed,' repeated the robber, and paused after he had said the word.
And what wert thou now doing at Ashby with such a charge in thy custody? I went thither to render to Isaac the Jew of York, replied Goethe, the price of a suit of armor with which he fitted my master for this tournament. And how much didst thou pay to Isaac? Methinks to judge by weight there is still two hundred seconds in this pouch.
I paid to Isaac, said the Saxon. "'Eighty seconds, and he restored me a hundred in lieu thereof.' "'How? What?' exclaimed all the robbers at once. "'Darest thou trifle with us that thou tellest such improbable lies?' "'What I tell you,' said Girth, "'is as true as the moon is in heaven. You will find the just sum in a silken purse within the leathern pouch, and separated from the rest of the gold.' "'Bethink thee, man,' said the captain, "'thou speakest of a Jew, of an Israelite, as unapt to restore gold as the dry sand of his desert to return the cup of water which the pilgrim spills upon them.' "'There is no more mercy in them,' said another of the banditti, "'than in an unbribed sheriff's officer.' "'It is, however, as I say,' said Goethe.
"'Strike a light instantly.' said the captain. I will examine this said purse, and if it be as this fellow says, the Jew's bounty is little less miraculous than the stream which relieved his fathers in the wilderness. A light was procured accordingly, and the robber proceeded to examine the purse. The others crowded around him, and even two who had hold of Gerth relaxed their grasp while they stretched their neck to see the issue of the search. Availing himself of their negligence, by a sudden exertion of strength and activity, Girth shook himself free of their hold, and might have escaped, could he have resolved to leave his master's property behind him. But such was no part of his intention.
He wrenched a quarter-staff from one of the fellows, struck down the captain, who was altogether unaware of his purpose, and had wellnigh repossessed himself of the pouch and treasure, The thieves, however, were too nimble for him, and again secured both the bag and the trusty girth. "'Knave,' said the captain, getting up, "'thou hast broken my head, and with other men of our sort thou wouldst fare the worse for thy insolence. But thou shalt know thy fate instantly. First, let us speak of thy master. The knight's matters must go before the squires. According to the due order of chivalry—' Stand thou fast in the meantime. If thou stir again, thou shalt have that will make thee quiet for thy life.
Comrades, he then said, addressing his gang. This purse is embroidered with Hebrew characters, and I well believe the omen's tale is true. The errant knight, his master, must needs pass us toll free. He is too like ourselves for us to make booty of him, since dogs should not worry dogs where wolves and foxes are to be found in abundance. Like us? answered one of the gang. I should like to hear how that is made good. Why, thou fool, answered the captain. Is he not poor and disinherited as we are? Doth he not win his substance at the sword's point as we do? Hath he not beaten fronteboeuf and Malvoisin even as we would beat them if we could? Is he not the enemy to life and death of Brian Dubois-Gilbert?
Whom we have so much reason to fear? And were all this otherwise, wouldst thou have us show a worse conscience than an unbeliever, a Hebrew Jew?
Nay, that were a shame, muttered the other fellow. And yet, when I served in the band of stout old Gandolin, we had no such scruples of conscience. And this insolent peasant, he too, I warned me, is to be dismissed scatheless. Not if thou canst scathe him. replied the captain. Here, fellow, continued he, addressing Girth. Canst thou use the staff, thou that start'st to it so readily? I think, said Girth, thou shouldst be best able to reply to that question. Nay, by my troth, thou gavest me a round knock, replied the captain. Do as much for this fellow, and thou shalt pass scot-free. And if thou dost not, why? By my faith, as thou art such a sturdy knave, I think I must pay thy ransom myself. Take thy staff, Miller," he added, and keep thy head.
And do you others, let the fellow go, and give him a staff. There is little enough to lay on load by. The two champions, being alike armed with quarter staves, stepped forward into the center of the open space, in order to have the full benefit of the moonlight. The thieves, in the meantime, laughing and crying to their comrade, Miller, beware thy toldish. The miller, on the other hand, holding his quarter-staff by the middle, and making it flourish round his head after the fashion, which the French call faire le moulinet, exclaimed boastfully, Come on, churl, and thou darest. Thou shalt feel the strength of a miller's thumb.
If thou beest a miller— answered Goethe undauntedly, making his weapon play around his head with equal dexterity. Thou art doubly a thief, and I, as a true man, bid thee defiance. So saying, the two champions closed together, and for a few minutes they displayed great equality in strength, courage, and skill, intercepting and returning the blows of their adversary with the most rapid dexterity, While from the continued clatter of their weapons, a person at a distance might have supposed that there were at least six persons engaged on each side. Less obstinate, and even less dangerous combats have been described in good heroic verse. But that of Girth and the Miller must remain unsung, for want of a sacred poet to do justice to its eventful progress.
Yet, though quarter-staff play be out of date, what we can in prose we will do for these bold champions. Long they fought equally, until the miller began to lose temper at finding himself so stoutly opposed, and at hearing the laughter of his companions, who, as usual in such cases, enjoyed his vexation. This was not a state of mind favorable to the noble game of quarter-staff, in which, as an ordinary cuddle-playing, The utmost coolness is requisite, and it gave Girt, whose temper was steady, though surly, the opportunity of requiring a decided advantage in availing himself of which he displayed great mastery. The miller pressed furiously forward, dealing blows with either end of his weapon alternately, and striving to come to half-staff distance, while Girt defended himself against the attack, Keeping his hands about a yard asunder, and covering himself by shifting his weapon with great celerity so as to protect his head and body.
Thus did he maintain the defensive, making his eye, foot, and hand keep true time, until, observing his antagonist to lose wind, he darted the staff at his face with his left hand, And as the miller endeavoured to parry the thrust, he slid his right hand down to his left, and with the full swing of the weapon struck his opponent on the left side of the head, who instantly measured his length upon the green sward. "'Well and yeomanly done!' shouted the robbers. "'Fair play and old England for ever. The Saxon has saved both his purse and his hide, and the miller has met his match. "'Thou mayst go thy ways, my friend.' said the captain, addressing Girth, in special confirmation of the general voice.
And I will cause two of my comrades to guide thee by the best way to thy master's pavilion, and to guard thee from night-walkers that might have less tender consciences than ours. For there is many one of them upon the amble in such a night as this. Take heed, however," he added sternly. Remember thou hast refused to tell thy name. Ask not after hours, nor endeavor to discover who or what we are, for if thou makest such an attempt, thou wilt come by worse fortune than has yet befallen thee. Girth thanked the captain for his courtesy, and promised to attend to his recommendation. Two of the outlaws, taking up their quarter-staves, and desiring Girth to follow close in the rear, walked roundly forward along a by-path, which traversed the thicket and the broken ground adjacent to it.
On the very verge of the thicket, two men spoke to his conductors, and, receiving an answer in a whisper, withdrew into the wood and suffered them to pass unmolested. This circumstance induced Goethe to believe both that the gang was strong in numbers, and that they kept regular guards around their place of rendezvous. When they arrived on the open heath, where Girth might have had some trouble in finding his road, the thieves guided him straight forward to the top of a little eminence, whence he could see, spread beneath him in the moonlight, the palisades of the lists, the glimmering pavilions pitched at either end, with the pennons which adorned them fluttering in the moonbeam, and from which could be heard the hum of the song with which the sentinels were beguiling their night-watch.
Here the thieves stopped. "'We go with you no farther,' said they. "'It were not safe that we should do so. Remember the warning you have received. Keep secret what has this night befallen you, and you will have no room to repent it. Neglect what is now told you, and the Tower of London shall not protect you against our revenge.' "'Good-night to you, kind sirs,' said Gerth. "'I shall remember your orders.' And trust that there is no offence in wishing you a safer and an honester trade. Thus they parted, the outlaws returning in the direction from whence they had come, and Girth proceeding to the tent of his master, to whom, notwithstanding the injunction he had received, he communicated the whole adventures of the evening.
The disinherited knight was filled with astonishment, no less at the generosity of Rebecca, by which, however, he resolved he would not profit. than that of the robbers, to whose profession such a quality seemed totally foreign. His course of reflections upon these singular circumstances was, however, interrupted by the necessity for taking repose, which the fatigue of the preceding day, and the propriety of refreshing himself for the morrow's encounter, rendered alike indispensable. The knight, therefore, stretched himself for repose upon a rich couch with which the tent was provided. And the faithful girth, extending his hardy limbs upon a bare skin, which formed a sort of carpet to the pavilion, laid himself across the opening of the tent, so that no one could enter without awakening him.
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12 12 - Chapter 12 31:06
XII.
The Heralds left their pricking up and down. Now, ring in trumpets loud and clarion. There is no more to say but east and west. In go the spears, sadly, in the rest. In goeth the sharp spur into the side. There see men who can just and who can ride. There shiver shafts upon shields thick. He feeleth through the heart's bone the prick. Up springen spears, twenty feet in height. Out go the swords to the silver bright. The helms they to hewn and shred. Out burst the blood with stern streams red.
Chaucer Morning arose in unclouded splendor, and ere the sun was much above the horizon, The idyllist, or the most eager of the spectators, appeared on the common, moving to the lists as to a general centre, in order to secure a favorable situation for viewing the continuation of the expected games.
The marshals and their attendants appeared next on the field, together with the heralds, for the purpose of receiving the names of the knights who intended to just, with the side which each chose to espouse. This was a necessary precaution in order to secure equality betwixt the two bodies who should be opposed to each other. According to due formality, the disinherited knight was to be considered as leader of the one body, while Brian de Boisguilbert, who had been rated as having done second best in the preceding day, was named first champion of the other band. Those who had concurred in the challenge adhered to his party, of course, excepting only Ralph de Vupont, whom his fall had rendered unfit so soon to put on his armor.
There was no want of distinguished and noble candidates to fill up the ranks on either side. In fact, although the general tournament, in which all knights fought at once, was more dangerous than single encounters, they were nevertheless more frequented and practiced by the chivalry of the age. Many knights, who had not sufficient confidence in their own skill to defy a single adversary of high reputation, were nevertheless desirous of displaying their valor in the general combat, where they might meet others with whom they were more upon equality.
On the present occasion, about fifty knights were inscribed as desirous of combating upon each side, when the marshals declared that no more could be admitted to the disappointment of several who were too late in preferring their claim to be included.
About the hour of ten o'clock, the whole plain was crowded with horsemen, horsewomen, and foot-passengers, hastening to the tournament. And shortly after, a grand flourish of trumpets announced Prince John and his retinue, attended by many of those knights who meant to take share in the game, as well as others who had no such intention. About the same time arrived Cedric the Saxon, with the Lady Rowena, unattended, however, by Athelstane. This Saxon lord had arrayed his tall and strong person in armor in order to take his place among the combatants, and considerably to the surprise of Cedric had chosen to enlist himself on the part of the Knight Templar. The Saxon, indeed, had remonstrated strongly with his friend upon the injudicious choice he had made of his party.
But he had only received that sort of answer usually given by those who are more obstinate in following their own course than strong in justifying it.
His best, if not his only reason for adhering to the party of Brian de Bois-Gilbert, Athelstane had the prudence to keep to himself. Though his apathy of disposition prevented his taking any means to recommend himself to the Lady Rowena, he was nevertheless By no means insensible to her charms, and considered his union with her as a matter already fixed beyond doubt by the assent of Cedric and her other friends. It had therefore been with smothered displeasure that the proud, though indolent, lord of Cunningsburg beheld the victor of the preceding day, select Rowena as the object of that honor which it became his privilege to confer. In order to punish him for a preference which seemed to interfere with his own suit, Athelstain, confident of his strength, and to whom his flatterers, at least, ascribed great scale-in-arms, had determined not only to deprive the disinherited knight of his powerful succor, but, if an opportunity should occur, to make him feel the weight of his battle-axe.
De Bracy and other knights attached to Prince John, in obedience to a hint from him, had joined the party of the challengers, John being desirous to secure, if possible, the victory to that side. On the other hand, many other knights, both English and Norman, natives and strangers, took part against the challengers. The more readily that the opposite band was to be led by so distinguished a champion as the disinherited knight had proved himself. As soon as Prince John observed that the destined Queen of the Day had arrived upon the field, assuming that air of courtesy which sat well upon him when he was pleased to exhibit it, he rode forward to meet her, doffed his bonnet, and alighting from his horse assisted the Lady Rowena from her saddle, While his followers uncovered at the same time, and one of the most distinguished dismounted to hold her palfrey.
"'It is thus,' said Prince John, "'that we set the dutiful example of loyalty to the Queen of love and beauty, and are ourselves her guide to the throne which she must this day occupy. Ladies,' he said, Attend your queen as you wish in your turn to be distinguished by like honors.
So saying, the prince marshaled Rowena to the seat of honor opposite his own, while the fairest and most distinguished ladies present crowded after her to obtain places as near as possible to their temporary sovereign. No sooner was Rowena seated than a burst of music, half drowned by the shouts of the multitude, greeted her new dignity. Meantime, the sun shone fierce and bright upon the polished arms of the knights of either side, who crowded the opposite extremities of the lists, and held eager conference together concerning the best mode of arranging their line of battle and supporting the conflict. The heralds then proclaimed silence until the laws of the tourney should be rehearsed. These were calculated in some degree to abate the dangers of the day.
A precaution the more necessary as the conflict was to be maintained with sharp swords and pointed lances.
The champions were therefore prohibited to thrust with the sword, and were confined to striking. A knight, it was announced, might use a mace or a battle-axe at pleasure, but the dagger was a prohibited weapon. A knight unhorsed might renew the fight on foot with any other on the opposite side in the same predicament, but mounted horsemen were in that case forbidden to assail him. When any knight could force his antagonist to the extremity of the lists so as to touch the palisade with his person or arms, such opponent was obliged to yield himself vanquished, and his armor and horse were placed at the disposal of the conqueror. A knight thus overcome was not permitted to take further share in the combat.
If any combatant was struck down, and unable to recover his feet, his squire or page might enter the lists and drag his master out of the press. But in that case the knight was adjudged vanquished, and his arms and horse declared forfeited. The combat was to cease as soon as Prince John should throw down his leading staff or truncheon, another precaution usually taken to prevent the unnecessary effusion of blood by the too-long endurance of a sport so desperate. Any knight breaking the rules of the tournament, or otherwise transgressing the rules of honorable chivalry, was liable to be stripped of his arms, and having his shield reversed, to be placed in that posture astride upon the bars of the palisade, and exposed to public derision, in punishment of his unknightly conduct.
Having announced these precautions, the heralds concluded with an exhortation to each good knight to do his duty, and to merit favor from the Queen of Beauty and Love. This proclamation having been made, the herald withdrew to their stations. The knights, entering at either end of the lists in long procession, arranged themselves in a double file, precisely opposite to each other, the leader of each party being in the center of the foremost rank, A post which he did not occupy until each had carefully arranged the ranks of his party, and stationed every one in his place.
It was a goodly, and at the same time an anxious sight to behold so many gallant champions, mounted bravely and armed richly, stand ready prepared for an encounter so formidable seated on their war-saddles like so many pillars of iron, and awaiting the signal of encounter with the same ardor as their generous steeds, which, by neighing and pawing the ground, gave signal of their impatience. As yet the knights held their long lances upright, their bright points glancing to the sun, and the streamers with which they were decorated fluttering over the plumage of the helmets. Thus they remained while the Marshals of the field surveyed their ranks with the utmost exactness, lest either party had more or fewer than the appointed number.
The tale was found exactly complete. The Marshals then withdrew from the lists, and William de Weevil, with a voice of thunder, pronounced the signal words. Laissez-Allez! The trumpet sounded as he spoke. The spears of the champions were at once lowered and placed in the rests. The spurs were dashed into the flanks of the horses. And the two foremost ranks of either party rushed upon each other in full gallop, and met in the middle of the lists with a shock, the sound of which was heard at a mile's distance. The rear rank of each party advanced at a slower pace to sustain the defeated and follow up the success of the victors of their party. The consequences of the encounter were not instantly seen, for the dust raised by the trampling of so many steeds darkened the air, and it was a minute ere the anxious spectators could see the fate of the encounter.
When the fight became visible, half the knights on each side were dismounted, some by the dexterity of their adversary's lance, some by the superior weight and strength of opponents, which had borne down both horse and man. Some lay stretched on the earth as if never more to arise. Some had already gained their feet, and were closing hand to hand with those of their antagonists who were in the same predicament. And several on both sides, who had received wounds by which they were disabled, were stopping their blood by their scarves, and endeavoring to extricate themselves from the tumult. The mounted knights, whose lances had been almost all broken by the fury of the encounter, were now closely engaged with their swords, shouting their war-cries and exchanging buffets as if honor and life depended on the issue of the combat.
The tumult was presently increased by the advance of the second rank on either side, which, acting as a reserve, now rushed on to aid their companions. The followers of Brian de Bois-Guilbert shouted, Ha! Beausseins! Beausseins! For the temple! For the temple! The opposite party shouted in answer, Desdicado! Desdicado! Which watchword they took from the motto upon their leader's shield.
The champions thus encountering each other with the utmost fury, and with alternate success, the tide of battle seemed to flow now toward the southern, Now toward the northern extremity of the lists, as the one or the other party prevailed. Meantime the clang of the blows and the shouts of the combatants mixed fearfully with the sound of the trumpets, and drowned the groans of those who fell, and lay rolling, defenseless beneath the feet of the horses. The splendid armor of the combatants was now defaced with dust and blood, and gave way at every stroke of the sword and battle-axe. The gay plumage shorn from the crests drifted upon the breeze like snowflakes. All that was beautiful and graceful in the martial array had disappeared, and what was now visible was only calculated to awake terror or compassion.
Yet such is the force of habit that not only the vulgar spectators, who are naturally attracted by sights of horror, But even the ladies of distinction who crowded the galleries saw the conflict with a thrilling interest, certainly, but without a wish to withdraw their eyes from a sight so terrible. Here and there, indeed, a fair cheek might turn pale, or a faint scream might be heard, as a lover, a brother, or a husband was struck from his horse. But in general, The ladies around encouraged the combatants, not only by clapping their hands and waving their veils and kerchiefs, but even by exclaiming, Brave Lance! Good sword! when any successful thrust or blow took place under their observation.
Such being the interest taken by the fair sex in this bloody game, that of the men is the more easily understood. It showed itself in loud acclamations upon every change of fortune, While all eyes were so riveted on the lists that the spectators seemed as if they themselves had dealt and received the blows which were there so freely bestowed. And between every pause was heard the voice of the heralds, exclaiming, Fight on, brave knights! Man dies, but glory lives! Fight on! Death is better than defeat! Fight on, brave knights, for bright eyes behold your deeds!
Amid the varied fortunes of the combat, the eyes of all endeavored to discover the leaders of each band, who, mingling in the thick of the fight, encouraged their companions both by voice and example. Both displayed great feats of gallantry. Nor did either Bois-Gilbert or the disinherited knight find in the ranks opposed to them a champion who could be termed their unquestioned match. They repeatedly endeavored to single out each other, spurred by mutual animosity, and aware that the fall of the leader might be considered as decisive of victory. Such, however, was the crowd and confusion, that during the earlier part of the conflict their efforts to meet were unavailing, and they were repeatedly separated by the eagerness of their followers, each of whom was anxious to win honor by measuring his strength against the leader of the opposite party.
But when the field became thin by the numbers on either side, who had yielded themselves vanquished, had been compelled to the extremity of the lists, or been otherwise rendered incapable of continuing the strife, the Templar and the disinherited Knight at length encountered hand to hand with all the fury that mortal animosity, joined to rivalry of honor, could inspire. Such was the address of each in parrying and striking, that the spectators broke forth into a unanimous and involuntary shout, expressive of their delight and admiration. But at this moment the party of the disinherited knight had the worst. The gigantic arm of Frontenbeuf, on the one flank, and the ponderous strength of Athelstane, on the other, bearing down and dispersing those immediately exposed to them.
Finding themselves freed from their immediate antagonists, it seems to have occurred to both these knights at the same instant that they would render the most decisive advantage to their party by aiding the Templar in his contest with his rival. Turning their horses, therefore, at the same moment, the Norman spurred against the disinherited knight on the one side and the Saxon on the other. It was utterly impossible that the object of this unequal and unexpected assault could have sustained it, had he not been warned by a general cry from the spectators, who could not but take interest in one exposed to such disadvantage. "'Beware! beware! Sir Disinherited!' was shouted so universally that the knight became aware of his danger, and striking a full blow at the Templar, He reined back his steed in the same moment, so as to escape the charge of Athelsteyn and Frondeboeuf.
These knights, therefore, their aim being thus eluded, rushed from opposite sides betwixt the object of their attack and the Templar, almost running their horses against each other ere they could stop their career. Recovering their horses, however, and wheeling them around, the whole three pursued their united purpose of bearing to the earth The disinherited knight. Nothing could have saved him except the remarkable strength and activity of the noble horse which he had won on the preceding day. This stood him in the more stead, as the horse of Bois-Gilbert was wounded, and those of Grontboeuf and Athelssene were both tired, with the weight of their gigantic masters, clad in complete armor, and with the preceding exertions of the day.
The masterly horsemanship of the disinherited knight, and the activity of the noble animal which he mounted enabled him for a few minutes to keep at sword's point his three antagonists, turning and wheeling with the agility of a hawk upon the wing. Keeping his enemies as far separate as he could, and rushing now against the one, now against the other, dealing sweeping blows with his sword, Without waiting to receive those which were aimed at him in return. But although the lists rang with the applauses of his dexterity, it was evident that he must at last be overpowered. And the nobles around Prince John implored him with one voice to throw down his warder, and to save so brave a knight from the disgrace of being overcome by odds.
"'Not I by the light of heaven,' answered Prince John. This same Springle, who conceals his name and despises our proffered hospitality, hath already gained one prize, and may now afford to let others have their turn. As he spoke thus, an unexpected incident changed the fortune of the day.
There was among the ranks of the disinherited knight a champion in black armor, Mounted on a black horse, large of size, tall, and to all appearance powerful and strong, like the rider by whom he was mounted. This knight, who bore on his shield no device of any kind, had hitherto evinced very little interest in the event of the fight, beating off with seeming ease those combatants who attacked him, but neither pursuing his advantages nor himself assailing any one. In short, he had hitherto acted the part rather of a spectator than of a party in the tournament, a circumstance which procured him among the spectators the name of Le Noir Fainant, or the Black Sluggard. At once this knight seemed to throw aside his apathy when he discovered the leader of his party so hard-bested, for, setting spurs to his horse, which was quite fresh, he came to his assistance like a thunderbolt, exclaiming in a voice like a trumpet-call, Desticado, to the rescue!
It was high time, for while the disinherited knight was pressing upon the Templar, Frontenbough had got nigh to him with his uplifted sword. But ere the blow could descend, the sable knight dealt a stroke on his head, which, glancing from the polished helmet, lighted with violence scarcely abated on the chamfron of the steed. And fronteboeuf rolled on the ground, both horse and man equally stunned by the fury of the blow. Lenoir-Feynant then turned his horse upon Athelstain of Konigsberg, and his own sword, having been broken in his encounter with fronteboeuf, he wrenched from the hand of the bulky Saxon the battle-axe which he welded, And, like one familiar with the use of the weapon, bestowed him such a blow upon the crest that Athelstane also lay senseless on the field.
Having achieved this double feat, for which he was the more highly applauded, that it was totally unexpected from him, the knight seemed to resume the sluggishness of his character, returning calmly to the northern extremity of the lists, leaving his leader to cope as best he could with the Brian de Bois-Guilbert. This was no longer matter of so much difficulty as formerly. The Templar's horse had bled much, and gave way under the shock of the disinherited knight's charge. Brian de Bois-Gilbert rolled on the field, encumbered with the stirrup from which he was unable to draw his foot. His antagonist sprung from horseback, waved his fatal sword over the head of his adversary, and commanded him to yield himself.
When Prince John, more moved by the Templar's dangerous situation than he had been by that of his rival, saved him the mortification of confessing himself vanquished by casting down his warder and putting an end to the conflict.
It was, indeed, only the relics and embers of the fight which continued to burn. For of the few knights who still continued in the lists, the greater part had, by tacit consent, forborne the conflict for some time, leaving it to be determined by the strife of the leaders. The squires, who had found it a matter of danger and difficulty to attend their masters during the engagement, now thronged into the lists to pay their dutiful attendance to the wounded, who were removed with the utmost care and attention to the neighboring pavilions, Or the quarters prepared for them in the adjoining village. Thus ended the memorable field of Ashby de Lazouche, one of the most gallantly contested tournaments of that age.
For although only four knights, including one who was smothered by the heat of his armor, had died upon the field, yet upwards of thirty were desperately wounded, four or five of whom never recovered. Several more were disabled for life, and those who escaped best carried the marks of the conflict to the grave with them. Hence it is always mentioned in the old records as the gentle and joyous passage of arms of Ashby. It being now the duty of Prince John to name the knight who had done best, he determined that the honor of the day remained with the knight whom the popular voice had termed, Le Noir It was pointed out to the prince, in impeachment of this decree, that the victory had been in fact won by the disinherited knight, who, in the course of the day, had overcome six champions with his own hand, and who had finally unhorsed and struck down the leader of the opposite party.
But Prince John adhered to his own opinion, on the ground that the disinherited knight and his party had lost the day But for the powerful assistance of the Knight of the Black Armor, to whom, therefore, he persisted in awarding the prize. To the surprise of all present, however, the Knight thus preferred was nowhere to be found. He had left the lists immediately when the conflict ceased, and had been observed by some spectators to move down one of the forest glades with the same slow pace and listless and indifferent manner which had procured him the epithet of the black sluggard. After he had been summoned twice by the sound of trumpet and proclamation of the heralds, it became necessary to name another to receive the honors which had been assigned to him.
Prince John had now no further excuse for resisting the claim of the Disinherited Knight, whom, therefore, he named the Champion of the Day. Through a field slippery with blood, and encumbered with broken armor and the bodies of slain and wounded horses, the Marshals of the lists again conducted the victor to the foot of Prince John's throne. "'Disinherited Knight,' said Prince John, Since by that title only you will consent to be known to us, we a second time award to you the honors of this tournament, and announce to you your right to claim and receive from the hands of the Queen of Love and Beauty the chaplet of honor which your valor has justly deserved. The knight bowed low and gracefully, but returned no answer.
While the trumpet sounded, While the heralds strained their voices in proclaiming honor to the brave and glory to the victor, while ladies waved their silken kerchiefs and embroidered veils, and while all ranks joined in a clamorous shout of exultation, the marshals conducted the disinherited knight across the lists to the foot of that throne of honor which was occupied by the Lady Rowena. On the lower step of this throne the champion was made to kneel down. Indeed, his whole action, since the fight had ended, seemed rather to have been upon the impulse of those around him than from his own free will, and it was observed that he tottered as they guided him the second time across the lists. Rowena, descending from her station with a graceful and dignified step, was about to place the chaplet, which she held in her hand upon the helmet of the champion, when the marshals exclaimed with one voice, It must not be thus.
His head must be bare. The knight martyred faintly a few words, which were lost in the hollow of his helmet. But their purport seemed to be a desire that his cask might not be removed. Whether from love of form or from curiosity, the marshals paid no attention to his expressions of reluctance, but unhelmed him by cutting the laces of his cask, and undoing the fastening of his gorget. When the helmet was removed, the well-formed, yet sunburnt features of a young man of twenty-five were seen, amidst a profusion of short, fair hair. His countenance was as pale as death, and marked in one or two places with streaks of blood. Rowena had no sooner beheld him than she uttered a faint shriek, but at once, summoning up the energy of her disposition, And compelling herself, as it were, to proceed, while her frame yet trembled with the violence of sudden emotion, she placed upon the drooping head of the victor the splendid chaplet, which was the destined reward of the day, and pronounced in a clear and distinct tone these words.
"'I bestow on thee this chaplet, sir knight, as the mead and valour assigned to this day's victor.' Here she paused a moment, and then firmly added, And upon brows more worthy could a wreath of chivalry never be placed. The knight stooped his head and kissed the hand of the lovely sovereign by whom his valor had been rewarded, and then, sinking yet farther forward, lay prostrate at her feet. There was a general consternation. Cedric, who had been struck mute by the sudden appearance of his banished son, now rushed forward as if to separate him from Rowena. But this had already been accomplished by the Marshal of the Field, who, guessing the cause of Ivanhoe's swoon, had hastened to undo his armor, and found that the head of a lance had penetrated his breastplate, and inflicted a wound in his side.
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13 13 - Chapter 13 23:41
XIII. Heroes, approach!
Atrides thus allowed. Stand forth, distinguished from the circling crowd, Ye who by skill or manly force may claim Your rivals to surpass and merit fame. This cow worth twenty oxen is decreed For him who farthest sends the winged reed. Iliad. The name of Ivanhoe was no sooner pronounced than it flew from mouth to mouth with all the celerity with which eagerness could convey and curiosity receive it. It was not long ere it reached the circle of the prince, whose brow darkened as he heard the news. Looking around him, however, with an air of scorn, my lords, said he, and especially you, Sir Pryor, What think ye of the doctrine the learned tell us concerning innate attractions and antipathies? Methinks that I felt the presence of my brother's minion, even when I least guessed whom yonder suit of armor enclosed.
Frontenbeuf must have prepared to restore his fief of Ivanhoe, said de Bracy, who, having discharged his part honorably in the tournament, had laid his shield and helmet aside, and again mingled with the prince's retinue. Aye, answered Waldemar Fitzherst. This gallant is likely to reclaim the castle and manor which Richard assigned to him, and which your highness's generosity has since given to Fronteboeuf. Fronteboeuf, replied John, is a man more willing to swallow three manners such as Ivanhoe than to disgorge one of them. For the rest, sirs, I hope none here will deny my right to confer the fiefs of the crown upon the faithful followers who are around me, and ready to perform the usual military service in the room of those who have wandered to foreign countries, and can neither render homage nor service when called upon.
The audience were too much interested in the question not to pronounce the prince's assumed right altogether indubitable. A generous prince! A most noble lord, who thus takes upon himself the task of rewarding his faithful followers. Such were the words which burst from the train, expectants all of them, of similar grants, at the expense of King Richard's followers and favorites, if indeed they had not as yet received such. Prior Amor also assented to the general proposition, observing, however, that the blessed Jerusalem could not indeed be termed a foreign country, She was communi mater, the mother of all Christians. But he saw not, he declared, how the Knight of Ivanhoe could plead any advantage from this, since he, the prior, was assured that the Crusaders under Richard had never proceeded much farther than Ascalon, which, as all the world knew, was a town of the Philistines, and entitled to none of the privileges of the Holy City.
Waldemar, whose curiosity had led him towards the place where Ivanhoe had fallen to the ground, now returned. "'The gallant,' said he, "'is likely to give your highness little disturbance, and to leave renteboeuf in the quiet possession of his gains. He is severely wounded.' "'Whatever becomes of him,' said Prince John, "'he is victor of the day, and were he tenfold our enemy, or the devoted friend of our brother, Which is perhaps the same. His wounds must be looked to. Our own physician shall attend him. A stern smile curled the prince's lip as he spoke. Valdemar Fitzherst hastened to reply that Ivanhoe was already removed from the lists and in the custody of his friends. "'I was somewhat afflicted,' he said, "'to see the grief of the Queen of Love and Beauty, whose sovereignty of a day this event has changed into mourning.
I am not a man to be moved by a woman's lament for her lover, but this same lady Rowena suppressed her sorrow with such dignity of manner that it could only be discovered by her folded hands and her tearless eye, which trembled as it remained fixed on the lifeless form before her. "'Who is this lady Rowena?' said Prince John. "'Of whom we have heard so much?' A saxon heiress of large possessions, replied the prior aimer. A rose of loveliness and a jewel of wealth, the fairest among a thousand, a bundle of myrrh and a cluster of camphor. We shall cheer her sorrows, said Prince John, and amend her blood by wedding her to a Norman. She seems a minor, and must therefore be at our royal disposal in marriage.
How say'st thou, de Bracy? What thinkest thou of gaining fair lands and livings by wedding a Saxon after the fashion of the followers of the conqueror? If the lands are to my liking, my lord," answered de Bracy, it will be hard to displease me with a bride, and deeply will I hold myself bound to your Highness for a good deed which will fulfil all promises made in favour of your servant and vassal. We will not forget it," said Prince John, and that we may instantly go to work. Command our seneschal presently to order the attendance of the lady Rowena and her company. That is, the rude churl and her guardian, and the Saxon-ox whom the black knight struck down in the tournament upon this evening's banquet.
De bigot, he added to his seneschal, thou wilt word this our second summon so courteously as to gratify the pride of these Saxons, and make it impossible for them again to refuse. Although by the bones of Becket, courtesy to them is casting pearls before the swine. Prince John had proceeded thus far, and was about to give the signal for retiring from the lists, when a small billet was put into his hand. "'From whence?' said Prince John, looking at the person by whom it was delivered. "'From foreign parts, my lord, but from whence I know not,' replied his attendant. A Frenchman brought it hither, who said, He had ridden night and day to put it into the hands of your Highness. The Prince looked narrowly at the superscription, and then at the seal, placed so as to secure the flex silk with which the billet was surrounded, and which bore the impression of three fleurs-de-lis.
John then opened the billet with apparent agitation, which visibly and greatly increased when he had perused the contents, which were expressed in these words. Take heed to yourself, for the devil is unchained. The prince turned pale as death, looking first on the earth, and then up to heaven, like a man who has received news that sentence of execution has been passed upon him. Recovering from the first effects of his surprise, he took Valdemar Fitzgerald and de Bracy aside, and put the billet into their hands successively. It means— He added, in a faltering voice, that my brother, Richard, has obtained his freedom. This may be false alarm, or a forged letter, said the Bracy. It is France's own hand in seal, replied John.
It is time, then, said Fitzherst, to draw our party to a head, either at York, or some other centrical place. A few days later, and it will be indeed too late, Your Highness must break short this present mummery.
The yeomen and commons, said de Bracy, must not be dismissed discontented for lack of their share in the sports. The day, said Valdemar, is not yet very far spent. Let the archers shoot a few rounds at the target, and the prize be adjudged. This will be an abundant fulfilment of the Prince's promises, so far as this herd of Saxon serfs is concerned.
I thank thee, Valdemar, said the prince. Thou remindest me, too, that I have a debt to pay to that insolent peasant who yesterday insulted our person. Our banquet also shall go forward to-night as we proposed. Were this my last hour of power, it should be an hour sacred to revenge and to pleasure. Let new cares come with to-morrow's new day. The sound of trumpets soon recalled those spectators who had already begun to leave the field, and proclamation was made that Prince John, suddenly called by high and peremptory public duties, held himself obliged to discontinue the entertainments of tomorrow's festival. Nevertheless, that unwilling so many good yeomen should depart without a trial of skill, he was pleased to appoint them, before leaving the ground, presently to execute the competition of archery intended for the morrow.
To the best archer a prize was to be awarded, being a bugle-horn mounted with silver, and a silken baldric richly ornamented with the medallion of St. Hubert, the patron of sylvan sport. More than thirty yeomen at first presented themselves as competitors, several of whom were rangers and under-keepers in the royal forests of Needwood and Charnwood. When, however, the archers understood with whom they were to be matched, upwards of twenty withdrew themselves from the contest, unwilling to encounter the dishonour of almost certain defeat. For in those days, the skill of each celebrated marksman was as well known for many miles around him as the qualities of a horse trained at Newmarket are familiar to those who frequent that well-known meeting.
The diminished list of competitors for sylvan fame still amounted to eight. Prince John stepped from his royal seat to view more nearly the persons of these chosen yeomen, several of whom wore the royal livery. Having satisfied his curiosity by this investigation, he looked for the object of his resentment, whom he observed standing on the same spot, and with the same composed countenance which he had exhibited upon the preceding day. Fellow, said Prince John, I guessed by thy insolent babble that thou wert no true lover of the long-bow, and I see thou darest not adventure thy skill among such merry men as stand yonder. "'Under favor, sir,' replied the yeoman, "'I have another reason for refraining to shoot, besides the fearing discomfiture and disgrace.' "'And what is thy other reason?' said Prince John, who, for some cause which perhaps he could not himself have explained, felt a painful curiosity respecting this individual.
"'Because,' replied the woodsman, "'I know not if these yeoman and I are used to shoot at the same marks. And because, moreover, I know not how your grace might relish the winning of a third prize by one who has unwittingly fallen under your displeasure. Prince John colored as he put the question. What is thy name, yeoman? Locksley, answered the yeoman. Then, Locksley, said Prince John, thou shalt shoot in thy turn when these yeomen have displayed their skill. If thou carriest the prize, I will add to it twenty nobles, but if thou losest it, thou shalt be stripped of thy lincoln green, and scourged out of the lists with bow-strings for a wordy and insolent braggart. And how, if I refuse to shoot on such a wager, said the yeoman, your grace's power, supported as it is by so many men-at-arms, may indeed easily strip and scourge me, but cannot compel me to bend or to draw my bow.
If thou refusest, my fair proffer, said the prince, the provost of the lists shall cut thy bowstring, break thy bow and arrows, and expel thee from the presence as a faint-hearted craven. This is no fair chance you put on me, proud prince, said the yeoman, to compel me to peril myself against the best archers of Leicester and Staffordshire, under the penalty of infamy, if they should overshoot me. Nevertheless, I will obey your pleasure." Look to him close, men-at-arms," said Prince John. His heart is sinking. I am jealous lest he attempt to escape the trial. And do, you good fellows, shoot boldly round. A buck and a butt of wine are ready for your refreshment in yonder tent when the prize is won.
A target was placed at the upper end of the southern avenue which led to the lists. The contending archers took their station in turn at the bottom of the southern access, the distance between that station and the mark allowing full distance for what was called a shot at rovers. The archers, having previously determined by lot their order of precedence, were to shoot each three shafts in succession. The sports were regulated by an officer of inferior rank, termed the provost of the games. For the high rank of the Marshals of the lists would have been held degraded had they condescended to superintend the sports of the yeomanry. One by one the archers, stepping forward, delivered their shafts, yeomanlike and bravely.
Of twenty-four arrows shot in succession, ten were fixed in the target, and the others ranged so near it that, considering the distance of the mark, it was accounted good archery. Of the ten shafts which hit the target, two within the inner ring were shot by Hubert. A forester in the service of Malvoisin, who was accordingly pronounced victorious. Now, Locksley, said Prince John to the bold yeoman, with a bitter smile, wilt thou try conclusions with Hubert, or wilt thou yield up Beau, Baldrick, and Quiver to the provost of the sports? Sith it be no better, said Locksley, I am content to try my fortune, on condition that when I have shot two shafts at yonder mark of Hubert's, he shall be bound to shoot one at that which I shall propose.
"'That is but fair,' answered Prince John. "'And it shall not be refused thee. If thou dost beat this braggart, Hubert, I will fill the bugle with silver pennies for thee.' "'A man can do but his best,' answered Hubert. But my grandsire drew a good long-bow at Hastings, and I trust not to dishonour his memory. The former target was now removed, and a fresh one of the same size placed in its room. Hubert, who, as victor in the first trial of skill, had the right to shoot first, took his aim with great deliberation, long measuring the distance with his eye, while he held in his hand his bended bow, with the arrow placed on the string. At length he made a step forward, and raising the bow at the full stretch of his left arm, till the center or grasping-place was nigh level with his face, he drew his bowstring to his ear.
The arrow whistled through the air and lighted within the inner ring of the target, but not exactly in the center. "'You have not allowed for the wind, Hubert,' said his antagonist, bending his bow. "'Or that had been a better shot.' So saying, and without showing the least anxiety to pause upon his aim, Locksley stepped to the appointed station, and shot his arrow as carelessly in appearance as if he had not even looked at the mark. He was speaking almost at the instant that the shaft left the bowstring, yet it alighted on the target two inches nearer to the white spot which marked the centre than that of Hubert. "'By the light of heaven!' said Prince John to Hubert. "'An thou suffer that renegade knave to overcome thee, thou'rt worthy of the gallows.' Hubert had but one set speech for all occasions.
"'And your highness were to hang me,' he said, "'a man can do but his best. Nevertheless, my grandsire drew a good bow—foul fiend on my grandsire and all his generation,' interrupted John. "'Shoot, knave, and shoot thy best, or it shall be the worse for thee.' Thus exhorted, Hubert resumed his place, and not neglecting the caution which he had received from his adversary, he made the necessary allowance for a very light air of wind, which had just arisen and shot so successfully that his arrow lighted in the very centre of the target. "'A Hubert! A Hubert!' shouted the populace, more interested in a known person than in a stranger. "'In the clout!' In the clout! A Hubert for ever! "'Thou canst not mend that shot, Locksley,' said the prince, with an insulting smile.
"'I will notch his shaft for him, however,' replied Locksley. "'And letting fly his arrow, with a little more precaution than before, it lighted right upon that of his competitor, which it split to shivers. The people who stood around were so astonished at his wonderful dexterity, that they could not even give vent to their surprise and their usual clamour. "'This must be the devil, and no man of flesh and blood,' whispered the yeomen to each other. "'Such archery was never seen since a bow was first bent in Britain.' "'And now,' said Locksley, "'I will crave your grace's permission to plant such a mark as is used in the north country, and welcome every brave yeomen who shall try a shot at it to win a smile from the bonny lass he loves best.' He then turned to leave the lists.
"'Let your guards attend me,' he said, "'if you please. I go but to cut a rod from the next willow-bush.'" Prince John made a signal that some attendants should follow him in case of his escape, but the cry of, "'Shame! Shame!' which burst from the multitude induced him to alter his ungenerous purpose. Luxley returned almost instantly with a willow wand about six feet in length, perfectly straight, and rather thicker than a man's thumb. He began to peel this with great composure, observing at the same time that to ask a good woodsman to shoot at a target so broad as had hitherto been used was to put shame upon his skill. For his own part, he said, And in the land where he was bred, men would as soon take for their mark King Arthur's Round Table, which held sixty knights around it.
A child of seven years old, he said, might hit yonder target with the heedless shaft. But, added he, walking deliberately to the other end of the lists, and sticking the willow wand upright in the ground, He that hits that rod at five score yards, I call him an archer fit to bear both bow and quiver before a king, and it were the stout King Richard himself. My grandsire, said Hubert, drew a good bow at the Battle of Hastings, and never shot such a mark in his life, and neither will I. If this yeoman can cleave that rod, I give him the bucklers. Or rather, I yield to the devil that is in his jerkin, and not to any human skill. A man can do but his best, and I will not shoot where I am sure to miss.
I might as well shoot at the edge of our parson's whittle, or at a wheat straw, or at a sunbeam, as at a twinkling white streak which I can hardly see. "'Cowardly dog!' said Prince John. Sirah, Locksley, do thou shoot. But if thou hittest such a mark, I will say thou art the first man ever did so. However it be, thou shalt not crow over us with a mere show of superior skill. I will do my best, as Hubert says, answered Lockley. No man can do more. So saying, he again bent his bow, but on the present occasion looked with attention to his weapon, and changed the string, which he thought was no longer truly round, having been a little frayed by the two former shots. He then took his aim with some deliberation, and the multitude awaited the event in breathless silence.
The archer vindicated their opinion of his skill. His arrow split the willow-rod against which it was aimed. A jubilee of acclamations followed, and even Prince John, in admiration of Locksley's skill, lost for an instant his dislike to his person. "'These twenty nobles,' he said, "'which with the bugle thou hast fairly won, are thine own. We will make them fifty if thou wilt take livery and service with us as a yeoman of our bodyguard, and be near to our person.' For never did so strong a hand bend a bow, or so true an eye direct a shaft. "'Pardon me, noble prince,' said Locksley, "'but I have vowed that if ever I take service, it should be with your royal brother, King Richard. These twenty nobles I leave to Hubert, who has this day drawn as brave a bow as his grandsire did at Hastings.
Had his modesty not refused the trial, He would have hit the wand as well as I. Hubert shook his head as he received with reluctance the bounty of the stranger, and Locksley, anxious to escape further observation, mixed with the crowd, and was seen no more. The victorious archer would not perhaps have escaped John's attention so easily had not that prince had other subjects of anxious and more important meditation pressing upon his mind at that instant. He called upon his chamberlain as he gave the signal for retiring from the lists, and commanded him instantly to gallop to Ashby and seek out Isaac the Jew. Tell the dog, he said, to send me before sundown two thousand crowns. He knows the security, but thou mayst show him this ring for a token.
The rest of the money must be paid at York within six days. If he neglects, I will have the unbelieving villain's head. Look that thou pass him not on the way, for the circumcised slave was displaying his stolen finery amongst us. So saying, the prince resumed his horse, and returned to Ashby, the whole crowd breaking up and dispersing upon his retreat.
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14 14 - Chapter 14 24:05
XIV.
Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott Chapter Fourteen In rough magnificence arrayed, When ancient chivalry displayed The pomp of her heroic games, And crested chiefs and tissue dames Assembled at the clarion's call In some proud castle's high arched hall. Wharton Prince John held his high festival in the Castle of Ashby. This was not the same building of which the stately ruins still interest the traveller, and which was erected at a later period by the Lord Hastings, High Chamberlain of England, one of the first victims of the tyranny of Richard, the third, and yet better known as one of Shakspeare's characters than by his historical fame. The castle and town of Ashby at this time belonged to Roger de Quincey, Earl of Winchester, who during the period of our history was absent in the Holy Land.
Prince John, in the meanwhile, occupied his castle, and disposed of his domains without scruple, and seeking at present to dazzle men's eyes by his hospitality and magnificence, had given orders for great preparations in order to render the banquet as splendid as possible. The purveyors of the prince, who exercised on this and other occasions the full authority of royalty, had swept the country of all that could be collected which was esteemed fit for their master's table. Guests also were invited in great numbers, and in the necessity in which he then found himself of courting popularity, Prince John had extended his invitation to a few distinguished Saxon and Danish families, as well as to the Norman nobility and gentry of the neighborhood.
However despised and degraded on ordinary occasions, the great numbers of the Anglo-Saxons must necessarily render them formidable in the civil commotions which seemed approaching, and it was an obvious point of policy to secure popularity with their leaders.
It was accordingly the prince's intention, which he for some time maintained, to treat these unwanted guests with a courtesy to which they had been little accustomed. But, although no man with less scruple made his ordinary habits and feelings bend to his interest, it was the misfortune of this prince that his levity and petulance were perpetually breaking out, and undoing all that had been gained by his previous dissimulation.
Of this fickle temper he gave a memorable example in Ireland, when sent thither by his father, Henry, the second, with the purpose of buying golden opinions of the inhabitants of that new and important acquisition to the English crown. Upon this occasion, the Irish chieftains contended which should first offer to the young prince their loyal homage and the kiss of peace. But, instead of receiving their salutations with courtesy, John and his petulant attendants could not resist the temptation of pulling the long beards of the Irish chieftains, a conduct which, as might have been expected, was highly resented by these insulted dignitaries, and produced fatal consequences to the English domination in Ireland.
It is necessary to keep these inconsistencies of John's character in view, that the reader may understand his conduct during the present evening.
In execution of the resolution which he had formed during his cooler moments, Prince John received Cedric and Athelstain with distinguished courtesy, and expressed his disappointment without resentment, that the indisposition of Rowena was alleged by the former as a reason for her not attending upon his gracious summons. Cedric and Athelstain were both dressed in the ancient Saxon garb, which, although not unhandsome in itself, and in the present instance composed of costly materials, was so remote in shape and appearance from that of the other guests, that Prince John took great credit to himself with Valdemar Fitzherst for refraining from laughter at a sight which the fashion of the day rendered ridiculous.
Yet, in the eye of sober judgment, the short, close tunic, and long mantle of the Saxons was a more graceful as well as a more convenient dress than the garb of the Normans, whose undergarment was a long doublet, so loose as to resemble a shirt or wagoner's frock. Covered by a cloak of scanty dimensions, neither fit to defend the wearer from cold or from rain, And the only purpose of which appeared to be to display as much fur, embroidery, and jewelry work as the ingenuity of the tailor could contrive to lay upon it. The Emperor Charlemagne, in whose reign they were first introduced, seems to have been very sensible of the inconveniences arising from the fashion of this garment. "'In heaven's name,' said he, "'to what purpose serve these abridged cloaks?
If we are in bed, they are no cover. On horseback they are no protection from the wind and rain, and when seated they do not guard our legs from the damp or the frost.
Nevertheless, in spite of this imperial objurgation, the short cloaks continued in fashion down to the time of which we treat, and particularly among the princes of the House of Anjou. They were therefore in universal use among Prince John's courtiers. And the long mantle, which formed the upper garment of the Saxons, was held in proportional derision.
The guests were seated at a table, which groaned under the quantity of good cheer. The numerous cooks who attended on the prince's progress, having exerted all their art in varying the forms in which the ordinary provisions were served up, had succeeded almost as well as the modern professors of the culinary art, in rendering them perfectly unlike their natural appearance. Besides these dishes of domestic origin, there were various delicacies brought from foreign parts, and a quantity of rich pastry, as well as of the Simnel bread and wassail cakes, which were only used at the tables of the highest nobility. The banquet was crowned with the richest wines, both foreign and domestic.
But, though luxurious, The Norman tables were not generally speaking an intemperate race. While indulging themselves in the pleasures of the table, they aimed at delicacy, but avoided excess, and were apt to attribute gluttony and drunkenness to the vanquished Saxons, as vices peculiar to their inferior station. Prince John, indeed, and those who courted his pleasure by imitating his foibles, were apt to indulge to excess in the pleasures of the trencher and the goblet, and indeed it is well known that his death was occasioned by a surfeit upon Peaches and New Ale. His conduct, however, was an exception to the general manners of his countrymen. With sly gravity, interrupted only by private signs to each other, the Norman knights and nobles beheld the ruder demeanour of Athelstain and Cedric at a banquet, to the form and fashion of which they were accustomed.
And while their manners were thus the subject of sarcastic observation, the untaught Saxons unwittingly transgressed several of the arbitrary rules established for the regulation of society. Now, it is well known That a man may with more impunity be guilty of an actual breach, either of real good breeding or of good morals, than appear ignorant of the most minute point of fashionable etiquette. Thus Cedric, who dried his hands with a towel instead of suffering the moisture to exhale by waving them gracefully in the air, incurred more ridicule than his companion Athelstain, When he swallowed to his own single share the whole of a large pasty composed of the most exquisite foreign delicacies, and termed at that time a cowrumpie, when, however, it was discovered, by a serious cross-examination, that the Thane of Konigsberg, or Franklin, as the Normans termed him, had no idea what he had been devouring, and that he had taken the contents of the cowrumpie for larks and pigeons, Whereas they were in fact bechaficos and nightingales.
His ignorance brought him in for an ample share of the ridicule which would have been more justly bestowed on his gluttony.
The long feast had at length its end, and while the goblet circulated freely, men talked of the feats of the preceding tournament, of the unknown victor in the archery games, of the black knight, Whose self-denial had induced him to withdraw from the honors he had won, and of the gallant Ivanhoe, who had so dearly bought the honors of the day. The topics were treated with military frankness, and the jest and laugh went round the hall. The brow of Prince John alone was overclouded during these discussions. Some overpowering care seemed agitating his mind, and it was only when he received occasional hints from his attendants that he seemed to take interest in what was passing around him. On such occasions he would start up, quaff a cup of wine as if to raise his spirits, and then mingle in the conversation by some observation made abruptly or at random.
"'We drink, the speaker,' said he, "'to the health of Wilfred of Ivanhoe,' Champion of this passage of arms, and grieve that his wound renders him absent from our board. Let all fill to the pledge, and especially Cedric of Rotherwood, the worthy father of a son so promising. "'No, my lord,' replied Cedric, standing up, and placing on the table his untasted cup, I yield not the name of son to the disobedient youth, who at once despises my commands, and relinquishes the manners and customs of his fathers. "'Tis impossible," cried Prince John, with well-feigned astonishment, "'that so gallant a knight should be an unworthy or disobedient son." "'Yet, my lord,' answered Cedric, "'it is so with this Wilfred.
He left my homily dwelling to mingle with the gay nobility of your brother's court, where he learned to do those tricks of horsemanship which you prize so highly. He left it contrary to my wish and command. And in the days of Alfred that would have been termed disobedience, aye, and a crime severely punishable. "'Alas,' replied Prince John, with a deep sigh of affected sympathy, "'since your son was a follower of my unhappy brother, It need not be inquired where or from whom he learned the lesson of Filio disobedience.
Thus spake Prince John, willfully forgetting, that all of the sons of Henry, though no one was free from the charge, he himself had been most distinguished for rebellion and ingratitude to his father. "'I think,' said he, after a moment's pause, "'that my brother proposed to confer upon his favourite the rich manner of Ivanhoe.' He did endow him with it, answered Cedric. Nor is it my least quarrel with my son that he stopt to hold, as a feudal vassal, the very domains which his fathers possessed in free and independent right. We shall then have your willing sanction, good Cedric, said Prince John, to confer this fief upon a person whose dignity will not be diminished by holding land of the British Crown.
Sir Reginald He said, turning towards that baron, I trust you will so keep the goodly barony of Ivanhoe, that Sir Wilfred shall not incur his father's farther displeasure by again entering upon that fief. "'By Saint Anthony,' answered the black-browed giant, "'I will consent that your highness shall hold me as Saxon, if either Cedric or Wilfred, or the best that ever bore English blood, shall wrench from me the gift with which your highness has graced me.' "'Whoever shall call thee saxon, Sir Baron,' replied Cedric, offended at a mode of expression by which the Normans frequently expressed their habitual contempt of the English, "'will do thee an honour as great as it is undeserved.' Frontpeuf would have replied, but Prince John's petulance and levity got the start.
"'Assuredly,' said he, "'my lords, the noble Cedric speaks truth. And his race may claim precedence over us as much in the length of their pedigrees as in the longitude of their cloaks. "'They go before us, indeed, in the field, as deer before dogs,' said Malvoisin. "'And with good right may they go before us, forget not,' said the prior aimer, "'the superior decency and decorum of their manners.' "'Their singular abstemiousness and temperance.' said de Bracy, forgetting the plan which promised him a Saxon bride. "'Together with the courage and conduct,' said Brian de Bois-Guilbert, by which they distinguished themselves at Hastings and elsewhere."
While, with smooth and smiling cheek, the courtiers, each in turn, followed their prince's example, and aimed a shaft of ridicule at Cedric, The face of the saxon became inflamed with passion, and he glanced his eyes fiercely from one to another, as if the quick succession of so many injuries had prevented his replying to them in turn, or, like a baited bull, who, surrounded by his tormentors, is at a loss to choose from among them the immediate object of his revenge. At length he spoke, in a voice half choked with passion, and addressing himself to Prince John as the head and front of the offence which he had received. Whatever, he said, have been the follies and vices of our race, a Saxon would have been held niddering, the most emphatic term for abject worthlessness, who should in his own hall, while his own wine-cup passed, have treated Or suffered to be treated, an unoffending guest as your highness has this day beheld me used.
And whatever was the misfortune of our fathers on the field of Hastings, those may at least be silent. Here he looked at Fauntboeuf and the Templar, who have within these few hours once and again lost saddle and stirrup before the lance of a Saxon. Begin note about Knittering. There was nothing accounted so ignominious among the Saxons as to merit this disgraceful epithet. Even William the Conqueror, hated as he was by them, continued to draw a considerable army of Anglo-Saxons to his standard, by threatening to stigmatize those who stayed at home as Niedering. Bartholennus, I think, mentions a similar phrase which had like influence on the Danes. L.T. End of Note on Knittering By my faith, a biting jest, said Prince John.
How like you it, sirs! Our Saxon subjects rise in spirit and courage, become shrewd in wit and bold in bearing in these unsettled times. What say ye, my lords? By this good light I hold it best to take our galleys and return to Normandy in time. For fear of the Saxons, said de Bracy, laughing. We should need no weapon but our hunting-spears to bring these boars to bay. "'A truce with your raillery, sir, knights,' said Fitzhurst, and it were well. He added, addressing the prince, "'that your highness should assure the worthy Cedric there is no insult intended him by jests, which must sound but harshly in the ear of a stranger.' "'Insult?' answered Prince John, resuming his courtesy of demeanour.
I trust it will not be thought that I could mean, or permit any, to be offered in my presence. Here I fill my cup to Cedric himself, since he refuses to pledge his son's health. The cup went round amid the well-dissembled applause of the courtiers, which, however, failed to make the impression on the mind of the Saxon that had been designed. He was not naturally acute of perception, but those too much undervalued his understanding who deemed that this flattering compliment would obliterate the sense of the prior insult. He was silent, however, when the royal page again passed round. "'To Sir Athelsteyn of Königsberg!' The knight made his obeisance, and showed his sense of the honour by draining a huge goblet in answer to it.
"'And now, sirs?' said Prince John, who began to be warmed with the wine which he had drank. Having done justice to our Saxon guests, we will pray of them some requital of our courtesy. Worthy Thayne, he continued, addressing Cedric, may we pray you to name to us some Norman whose mention may least sully your mouth, and to wash down with a goblet of wine all bitterness which the sound may leave behind it? Fitzherst arose while Prince John spoke, and, gliding behind the seat of the Saxon, whispered to him not to omit the opportunity of putting an end to unkindness betwixt the two races, by naming Prince John. The Saxon replied not to this politic insinuation, but, rising up, and filling his cup to the brim, he addressed Prince John in these words.
Your Highness has required that I should name a Norman deserving to be remembered at our banquet. This, perchance, is a hard task, since it calls on the slave to sing the praises of the master. Upon vanquished, while pressed by all the evils of conquest, to sing the praises of the conqueror. Yet I will name a Norman, the first in arms and in place, the best and the noblest of his race. And the lips that shall refuse to pledge me to his well-earned fame I term false and dishonored, and will so maintain them with my life. I quaff this goblet to the health of Richard the Lionhearted. Prince John, who had expected that his own name would have closed the Saxon's speech, started when that of his injured brother was so unexpectedly introduced.
He raised mechanically the wine-cup to his lips, then instantly set it down, to view the demeanour of the company at this unexpected proposal, which many of them felt it as unsafe to oppose as to comply with. Some of them, ancient and experienced courtiers, closely imitated the example of the prince himself, raising the goblet to their lips, and again replacing it before them. There were many who, with a more generous feeling, exclaimed, Long live King Richard, and may he be speedily restored to us. And some few, among whom were Frontenbouffe and the Templar, in sullen disdain suffered their goblets to stand untasted before them. But no man ventured directly to gainsay a pledge filled to the health of the reigning monarch.
Having enjoyed his triumph for about a minute, Cedric said to his companion, Up, noble Atelsteyn! We have remained here long enough, since we have requited the hospitable courtesy of Prince John's Banquet. Those who wish to know further of our rude Saxon manners must henceforth seek us in the homes of our fathers, since we have seen enough of royal banquets, and enough of norman courtesy. So saying, he arose and left the banqueting-room, followed by Athostane and by several other guests, who, partaking of the Saxon lineage, held themselves insulted by the sarcasms of Prince John and his courtiers. By the bones of St. Thomas, said Prince John, as they retreated, the Saxon churls have borne off the best of the day, and have retreated with triumph.
Conclamatum est Poculatum est," said Prior Aimer. We have drunk and we have shouted. It were time we left our wine-flagons.
The monk hath some fair penitent to shrive to-night, that he is in such a hurry to depart, said de Bracy. Not so, Sir Knight, replied the abbot. But I must move several miles forward this evening upon my homeward journey. They are breaking up. said the prince in a whisper to Fitzhurst. Their fears anticipate the event, and this coward prior is the first to shrink from me.
Fear not, my lord, said Valdemar. I will show him such reasons as shall induce him to join us when we hold our meeting at York. Sir prior, he said, I must speak with you in private before you mount your palfrey. The other guests were now fast dispersing. with the exception of those immediately attached to Prince John's faction and his retinue. "'This, then, is the result of your advice,' said the Prince, turning an angry countenance upon Fitzgerald, "'that I should be bearded at my own board by a drunken Saxon churl, and that, on the mere sound of my brother's name, men should fall off from me as if I had the leprosy.' "'Have patience, sir,' replied his counsellor. I might retort your accusation, and blame the inconsiderate levity which foiled my design, and misled your own better judgment.
But this is no time for recrimination. De Bracy and I will instantly go among these shuffling cowards, and convince them they have gone too far to recede. It will be in vain, said Prince John. Pacing the apartment with disordered steps, and expressing himself with an agitation to which the wine he had drank partly contributed. It will be in vain. They have seen the handwriting on the wall. They have marked the paw of the lion in the sand. They have heard his approaching roar shake the wood. Nothing will reanimate their courage. Would to God, said Fitzhurst to Bracey, that aught could reanimate his own, His brother's very name is an ague to him. Unhappy are the counselors of a prince, who wants fortitude and perseverance alike in good and in evil.
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15 15 - Chapter 15 14:17
And yet he thinks— Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! No spider ever took more pains to repair the shattered meshes of his web than did Valdemar Fitzherst to reunite and combine the scattered members of Prince John's Cabal. Few of these were attached to him from inclination, and none from personal regard.
It was therefore necessary that Fitzherst should open to them new prospects of advantage, and remind them of those which they at present enjoyed. To the young and wild nobles he held out the prospect of unpunished license and uncontrolled revelry, to the ambitious that of power, and to the covetous that of increased wealth and extended domains. The leaders of the mercenaries received a donation in gold, an argument the most persuasive to their minds, and without which all others would have proved in vain. Promises were still more liberally distributed than money by this active agent, and, in fine, nothing was left undone that could determine the wavering, or animate the disheartened. The return of King Richard he spoke of as an event altogether beyond the reach of probability, yet, when he observed, from the doubtful looks and uncertain answers which he received, that this was the apprehension by which the minds of his accomplices were most haunted.
He boldly treated that event, should it really take place, as one which ought not to alter their political calculations. If Richard returns, said Fitzgerald, He returned to enrich his needy and impoverished crusaders, at the expense of those who did not follow him to the Holy Land. He returned to call to a fearful reckoning, those who, during his absence, have done aught that can be construed offense or encroachment upon either the laws of the land or the privileges of the crown. He returned to avenge upon the orders of the temple and the hospital, the preference which they showed to Philip of France during the wars in the Holy Land. He returns, in fine, to punish as a rebel every adherent of his brother, Prince John.
Are ye afraid of his power? continued the artful confidant of that prince. We acknowledge him a strong and valiant knight, but these are not the days of King Arthur, when a champion could encounter an army. If Richard indeed comes back, it must be alone, unfollowed, unfriended. The bones of his gallant army have whitened the sands of Palestine. The few of his followers who have returned have straggled hither like this Wilfred of Ivanhoe, beggared and broken men. And what talk ye of Richard's right of birth? He proceeded, in answer to those who objected scruples on that head. Is Richard's title of primogeniture more decidedly certain than that of Duke Robert of Normandy, the Conqueror's eldest son?
And yet— William the Red and Henry, his second and third brothers, were successfully preferred to him by the voice of the nation. Robert had every merit which can be pleaded for Richard. He was a bold knight, a good leader, generous to his friends and to the church, and, to crown the whole, a crusader and a conqueror of the Holy Sepulchre. And yet he died a blind and miserable prisoner at the castle of Cardiff, because he opposed himself to the will of the people, who chose that he should not rule over them. It is our right, he said, to choose from the blood royal the prince who is best qualified to hold the supreme power—that is, said he, correcting himself, him whose election will best promote the interests of the nobility.
In personal qualifications, he added, it was possible that Prince John might be inferior to his brother Richard, but when it was considered that the latter returned with the sword of vengeance in his hand, while the former held out rewards, immunities, privileges, wealth, and honors, it could not be doubted which was the king whom in wisdom the nobility were called on to support. These, and many more arguments, some adapted to the peculiar circumstances of those whom he addressed, had the expected weight with the nobles of Prince John's faction. Most of them consented to attend the proposed meeting at York, for the purpose of making general arrangements for placing the crown upon the head of Prince John.
It was late at night, when, worn out and exhausted with his various exertions, however gratified with the result, Fitzhurst, returning to the castle of Ashby, met with de Bracy, who had exchanged his banqueting garments for a short green kirtle, with hose of the same cloth and color, a leathern cap or headpiece, a short sword, a horn slung over his shoulder, a long bow in his hand, and a bundle of arrows stuck in his belt. Had Fitzgerald met this figure in an outer apartment, he would have passed him without notice, as one of the yeomen of the guard. But finding him in the inner hall, he looked at him with more attention, and recognized the Norman knight in the dress of an English yeomen. "'What mummery is this, de Bracy?' said Fitzgerald, somewhat angrily.
"'Is this a time for Christmas gambols and quaint maskings, when the fate of our master, Prince John, is on the very verge of decision?' Why hast thou not been, like me, among these heartless cravens, whom the very name of King Richard terrifies, as it is said to do the children of the Saracens? I have been attending to mine own business, answered de Bracy calmly, as you, Fitzgerald, have been minding yours. I, minding my own business, echoed Valdemar, I have been engaged in that of Prince John, our joint patron. As if thou hadst any other reason for that, Valdemar, said de Bracy. Then the promotion of thine own individual interest? Come, Fitzers, 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 Fitzherst 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 Fitzherst 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 Fitzherst, I comprehend thee not.
Wart thou not in presence yestereven, said de Bracy, when we heard the prior Amr tell us a tale in reply to the romance which was sung by the minstrel? He told how, long since in Palestine, a deadly feud arose between the tribe of Benjamin and the rest of the Israelitish nation, and how they cut to pieces well nigh all the chivalry of that tribe, And how they swore by our blessed lady that they would not permit those who remained to marry in their lineage, and how they became grieved for their vow, and sent to consult His Holiness the Pope, how they might be absolved from it, and how, by the advice of the Holy Father, The youth of the tribe of Benjamin carried off from a superb tournament all the ladies who were there present, and thus won them wives without the consent either of their brides or their brides' families.
"'I have heard the story,' said Fitzgerald, though either the prior or thou has made some singular alterations in date and circumstances. "'I tell thee,' said de Bracy, "'that I mean to purvey me a wife, after the fashion of the tribe of Benjamin.' Which is as much as to say, that in this same equipment I will fall upon that herd of Saxon bullocks, who have this night left the castle, and carry off from them the lovely Rowena. Art thou mad, de Bracy? said Fitzherst. Bethink thee that though the men be Saxons, they are rich and powerful, and regarded with the more respect by their countrymen, that wealth and honour are but the lot of few of Saxon descent, and should belong to none. said de Bracy.
The work of the conquest should be completed. This is no time for it, at least, said Fitzgerald. The approaching crisis renders the favour of the multitude indispensable, and Prince John cannot refuse justice to anyone who injures their favourites. Let him grant it, if he dare, said de Bracy. He will soon see the difference betwixt the support of such a lusty lot of spears as mine, and that of a heartless mob of saxon churls. Yet I mean no immediate discovery of myself. Seem I not in this garb as bold a forester as ever Blue Horn? The blame of the violence shall rest with the outlaws of the Yorkshire forests. I have sure spies on the Saxon's motions. To-night they sleep in the convent of St. Wittall, or Withold.
Or whatever they call that churl of a Saxon saint at Burton-on-Trent. Next day's march brings them within our reach, and falconways we swoop on them at once. Presently after I will appear in mine own shape, play the courteous knight, rescue the unfortunate and afflicted fair one from the hands of the rude ravishers, conduct her to fronteboeuf's castle, or to Normandy, if it should be necessary, And produce her not again to her kindred, unless she be the bride and dame of Maurice de Bracy. "'A marvellously sage plan,' said Fitzhurst. "'And, as I think, not entirely of thine own device. Come, be frank, de Bracy, who aided thee in the invention, and who is to assist in the execution? For as I think, thine own band lies as far off as York.' "'Marry, if thou must needs know,' said de Bracy, It was a Templar, Brian de Boisguilbert, that shaped out the enterprise, which the adventure of the men of Benjamin suggested to me.
He is to aid me in the onslaught, and he and his followers will personate the outlaws, from whom my valorous arm is, after changing my garb, to rescue the lady. By my halidom, said Fitzgerald, the plan was worthy of your united wisdom. And thy prudence, de Bracy, is most especially manifested in the project of leaving the lady in the hands of thy worthy confederate. Thou mayst, I think, succeed in taking her from her Saxon friends, but how wilt thou rescue her afterwards from the clutches of Boisguilbert seems considerably more doubtful. He is a falcon well accustomed to pounce on a partridge, and to hold his prey fast. He is a Templar, said de Bracy. And cannot therefore rival me in my plan of wedding this heiress, and to attempt aught dishonourable against the intended bride of de Bracy, by heaven, were he a whole chapter of his order in his single person, he dared not do me such an injury.
Then, since not that I can say, said Fitzgerald, will put this folly from thy imagination, for well I know the obstinacy of thy disposition, At least waste as little time as possible. Let not thy folly be lasting as well as untimely. I tell thee, answered de Bracy, that it will be the work of a few hours, and I shall be at York, at the head of my daring and valorous fellows, as ready to support any bold design as thy policy can be to form one. But I hear my comrades assembling, and the steeds stamping and neighing in the outer court. Farewell. I go like a true knight to win the smiles of beauty. Like a true knight repeated Fitzherst, looking after him. Like a fool, I should say, or like a child, who will leave the most serious and needful occupation to chase the down of the thistle that drives past him.
But it is with such tools that I must work. And for whose advantage? For that of a prince as unwise as he is profligate, and as likely to be an ungrateful master as he has already proved a rebellious son and an unnatural brother. But he—he, too, is but one of the tools with which I labor, and, proud as he is, should he presume to separate his interest from mine, this is a secret which he shall soon learn. The meditations of the statesman were here interrupted by the voice of the prince from an interior apartment calling out, "'Noble Valdemar Fitzhurst!' And, with bonnet doffed, the future Chancellor—for to such high preferment did the wily norman aspire—hastened to receive the orders of the future sovereign."
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16 16 - Chapter 16 30:52
Ivanhoe.
XVI.
Far, in a wild unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend hermit grew. The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well. Remote from man with God he passed his days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise. The reader cannot have forgotten that the event of the tournament was decided by the exertions of an unknown knight, whom, on account of the passive and indifferent conduct which he had manifested on the former part of the day, the spectators had entitled, Le Noir, Fainant. This knight had left the field abruptly, when the victory was achieved. And when he was called upon to receive the reward of his valor, he was nowhere to be found.
In the meantime, while summoned by heralds and by trumpets, the knight was holding his course northward, avoiding all frequented paths, and taking the shortest road through the woodlands. He paused for the night at a small hostelry, lying out of the ordinary route, where, however, he obtained from a wandering minstrel news of the event of the tourney. On the next morning the knight departed early, with the intention of making a long journey. The condition of his horse, which he had carefully spared during the preceding morning, being such as enabled him to travel far without the necessity of much repose. Yet his purpose was baffled by the devious paths through which he rode, so that when evening closed upon him, he only found himself on the frontiers of the West Riding of Yorkshire.
By this time both horse and man required refreshment, and it became necessary, moreover, to look out for some place in which they might spend the night, which was now fast approaching. The place where the traveller found himself seemed unpropitious for obtaining either shelter or refreshment, and he was likely to be reduced to the usual expedient of knights-errant. who, on such occasions, turned their horses to graze, and laid themselves down to meditate on their lady-mistress, with an oak-tree for a canopy. But the black knight either had no mistress to meditate upon, Or, being as indifferent in love as he seemed to be in war, was not sufficiently occupied by passionate reflections upon her beauty and cruelty to be able to parry the effects of fatigue and hunger, and suffer love to act as a substitute for the solid comforts of a bed and supper.
He felt dissatisfied, therefore, when, looking around, he found himself deeply involved in woods, through which, indeed, there were many open glades, and some paths, but such as seemed only formed by the numerous herds of cattle which grazed in the forest, or by the animals of chase, and the hunters who made prey of them. The sun, by which the knight had chiefly directed his course, had now sunk behind the Derbyshire hills on his left, And every effort which he might make to pursue his journey was as likely to lead him out of his road as to advance him on his route. After having in vain endeavoured to select the most beaten path, in hopes it might lead to the cottage of some herdsman, or the sylvan lodge of a forester, and having repeatedly found himself totally unable to determine on a choice, the knight resolved to trust to the sagacity of his horse.
Experience having on former occasions made him acquainted with the wonderful talent possessed by these animals for extricating themselves and their riders on such emergencies. The good steed, grievously fatigued with so long a day's journey under a rider cased in mail, had no sooner found by the slackened reins that he was abandoned to his own guidance than he seemed to assume new strength and spirit. And whereas formerly he had scarce replied to the spur otherwise than by a groan, he now, as if proud of the confidence reposed in him, pricked up his ears, and assumed of his own accord a more lively motion. The path which the animal adopted rather turned off from the course pursued by the night during the day.
But as the horse seemed confident in his choice, the rider abandoned himself to his discretion. He was justified by the event, for the footpath soon after appeared a little wider and more worn, and the tinkle of a small bell gave the knight to understand that he was in the vicinity of some chapel or hermitage. Accordingly, he soon reached an open plat of turf, on the opposite side of which a rock, rising abruptly from a gently sloping plain, offered its gray and weather-beaten front to the traveler. Ivy mantled its sides in some places, and in others oaks and holly-bushes, whose roots found nourishment in the cliffs of the crag, waved over the precipices below like the plumage of the warrior over his steel helmet, giving grace to that whose chief expression was terror.
At the bottom of the rock, and leaning, as it were, against it, was constructed a rude hut, built chiefly of the trunks of trees felled in the neighboring forest, and secured against the weather by having its crevices stuffed with moss mingled with clay. The stem of a young fir-tree lopped off its branches, with a piece of wood tied across near the top. Was planted upright by the door as a rude emblem of the Holy Cross. At a little distance on the right hand, a fountain of the purest water trickled out of the rock, and was received in a hollow stone, which labor had formed into a rustic basin. Escaping from thence, the stream murmured down the descent by a channel which his course had long worn, and so wandered through the little plain to lose itself in the neighboring wood.
Beside this fountain were the ruins of a very small chapel, of which the roof had partly fallen in. The building, when entire, had never been above sixteen feet long by twelve feet in breadth, and the roof, low in proportion, rested upon four concentric arches, which sprung from the four corners of the building, each supported upon a short and heavy pillar. The ribs of two of these arches remained, though the roof had fallen down betwixt them. Over the others it remained entire. The entrance to this ancient place of devotion was under a very low, round arch, ornamented by several courses of that zigzag molding, resembling shark's teeth, which appears so often in the more ancient Saxon architecture.
A belfry rose above the porch on four small pillars, within which hung the green and weather-beaten bell, The feeble sounds of which had been some time before heard by the black knight. The whole peaceful and quiet scene lay glimmering in twilight before the eyes of the traveler, giving him good assurance of lodging for the knight, since it was a special duty of those hermits who dwelt in the woods to exercise hospitality towards benighted or bewildered passengers. Accordingly, the knight took no time to consider minutely the particulars which we have detailed, but, thanking St. Julian, the patron of travellers, who had sent him good harbourage, he leaped from his horse and assailed the door of the hermitage with the butt of his lance, in order to arouse attention and gain admittance.
It was some time before he obtained any answer, and the reply, when made, was unpropitious. Pass on, whosoever thou art, was the answer given by a deep, hoarse voice from within the hut, and disturb not the servant of God and St. Dunstan in his evening devotions. Worthy father, answered the knight, here is a poor wanderer bewildered in these woods, who gives thee the opportunity of exercising thy charity and hospitality.
Good brother, replied the inhabitant of the hermitage, It has pleased our lady and St. Dunstan to destine me for the object of those virtues, instead of the exercise thereof. I have no provisions here which even a dog would share with me, and a horse of any tenderness of nurture would despise my couch. Pass therefore on thy way, and God speed thee.
But how, replied the knight, is it possible for me to find my way through such a wood as this, when darkness is coming on? I pray you, reverend father, as you are a Christian, to undo your door and at least point out to me thy road. "'And I pray you, good Christian brother,' replied the anchorite, "'to disturb me no more. You have already interrupted one pater, two aves, and a credo, which I, miserable sinner that I am, should, according to my vow, have said before moonrise.' "'The road! The road!' vociferated the knight. Give me directions for the road if I am to expect no more from thee. The road, replied the hermit, is easy to hit. The path from the wood leads to a morass, and from thence to a ford, which, as the rains have abated, may now be passable.
When thou hast crossed the ford, thou wilt take care of thy footing up the left bank, as it is somewhat precipitous, and the path which hangs over the river has laid As I learn, for I seldom leave the duties of my chapel, given way in sundry places. Thou wilt then keep straight forward a broken path, a precipice, a ford, and a morass," said the knight, interrupting him. Sir Hermit, if you were the holiest that ever wore beard or told bead, you shall scarce prevail on me to hold this road to-night. I tell thee that thou, who livest by the charity of the country, Ill-deserved, as I doubt it is, hast no right to refuse shelter to the wayfarer when in distress. Either open the door quickly, or by the rod I will beat it down and make entry for myself.
Friend, wayfarer, replied the hermit, be not importunate. If thou puttest me to use the carnal weapon in mine own defence, it will be e'en the worse for you.
At this moment a distant noise of barking and growling, which the traveller had for some time heard, became extremely loud and furious, and made the knight suppose that the hermit, alarmed by his threat of making forcible entry, had called the dogs, who made this clamour to aid him in his defence, out of some inner recess in which they had been kennelled. Incensed at this preparation on the hermit's part for making good his inhospitable purpose, the knight struck the door so furiously with his foot that posts as well as staples shook with violence. The anchorite, not caring again to expose his door to a similar shock, now called out aloud, "'Patience! Patience! Spare thy strength, good traveller, and I will presently undo the door, though it may be my doing so will be little to thy pleasure.' The door accordingly was opened, and the hermit, a large, strong-built man, in his sackcloth gown and hood, girt with a rope of rushes, stood before the night.
He had in one hand a lighted torch or link, and in the other a baton of crab-tree, So thick and heavy that it might well be termed a club. Two large, shaggy dogs, half greyhound, half mastiff, stood ready to rush upon the traveller as soon as the door should be opened. But when the torch glanced upon the lofty crest and golden spurs of the knight who stood without, the hermit, altering probably his original intentions, repressed the rage of his auxiliaries, And, changing his tone to a sort of churlish courtesy, invited the knight to enter his hut, making excuse for his unwillingness to open his lodge after sunset, by alleging the multitude of robbers and outlaws who were abroad, and who gave no honour to Our Lady or St.
Dunstan, nor to those holy men who spent life in their service. "'The poverty of your cell, good father,' said the knight, looking around him, and seeing nothing but a bed of leaves, A crucifix rudely carved in oak, a missal with a rough-hewn table and two stools, and one or two clumsy articles of furniture. The poverty of your cell should seem a sufficient defense against any risk of thieves, not to mention the aid of two trusty dogs, large and strong enough, I think, to pull down a stag, and of course to match with most men. The good keeper of the forest, said the hermit, Hath allowed me the use of these animals to protect my solitude until the times shall mend. Having said this, he fixed his torch in a twisted branch of iron, which served for a candlestick, and placing the oaken trivet before the embers of the fire, which he refreshed with some dry wood, he placed a stool upon one side of the table, and beckoned to the knight to do the same upon the other.
They sat down and gazed with great gravity at each other. each thinking in his heart that he had seldom seen a stronger or more athletic figure than was placed opposite to him. Reverend Hermit, said the knight, after looking long and fixedly at his host, were it not to interrupt your devout meditations, I would pray to know three things of your holiness. First, where am I to put my horse? Secondly, what can I have for supper? Thirdly, Where am I to take up my couch for the night? "'I will reply to you,' said the hermit, "'with my finger,' it being against my rule to speak by words where signs can answer the purpose." So saying, he pointed successively to two corners of the hut. "'Your stable,' said he, "'is there, your bed there, and—' Reaching down a platter with two handfuls of parched peas upon it from the neighboring shelf, and placing it upon the table, he added, "'Your supper is here.' The knight shrugged his shoulders, and, leaving the hut, brought in his horse, which, in the interim he had fastened to a tree, unsaddled him with much attention, and spread upon the steed's weary back his own mantle.
The hermit was apparently somewhat moved to compassion by the anxiety as well as address which the stranger displayed in tending his horse. For, muttering something about Provender left for the keeper's palfrey, he dragged out of a recess a bundle of forage, which he spread before the knight's charger, and immediately afterwards shook down a quantity of dried fern in the corner, which he had assigned for the rider's couch. The knight returned him thanks for his courtesy, and this duty done, both resumed their seats by the table, whereon stood the trencher of peas placed between them. The hermit, after a long grace, which had once been latin, but of which original language few traces remained, excepting here and there the long-rolling termination of some word or phrase, set example to his guest by modestly putting into a very large mouth Furnished with teeth which might have ranked with those of a bore, both in sharpness and whiteness, some three or four dried peas, a miserable grist, as it seemed, for so large and able a mill.
The knight, in order to follow so laudable an example, laid aside his helmet, his corslet, and the greater part of his armor, and showed to the hermit a head, thick-curled with yellow hair, high features, blue eyes, Remarkably bright and sparkling, a mouth well-formed, having an upper lip clothed with moustachos darker than his hair, and bearing altogether the look of a bold, daring, and enterprising man, with which his strong form well corresponded. The hermit, as if wishing to answer to the confidence of his guest, threw back his cowl, and showed a round bullet-head belonging to a man in the prime of life. His close-shaven crown, surrounded by a circle of stiff, curled black hair, had something the appearance of a parish pinfold begirt by its high hedge.
The features expressed nothing of monastic austerity, or of ascetic privations. On the contrary, it was a bold, bluff countenance, with broad black eyebrows, a well-turned forehead, and cheeks as round and vermilion as those of a trumpeter, From which descended a long and curly black beard. Such a visage, joined to the brawny form of the holy man, spoke rather of sirloins and haunches than of peas and pulse. This incongruity did not escape the guest. After he had with great difficulty accomplished the mastication of a mouthful of the dried peas, he found it absolutely necessary to request his pious entertainer to furnish him with some liquor. Who replied to his request by placing before him a large can of the purest water from the fountain.
It is from the well of St. Dunstan, said he, in which, betwixt son and son, he baptized five hundred heathen Danes and Britons, blessed be his name, and applying his black beard to the pitcher, he took a draught much more moderate in quantity than his economium seemed to warrant. "'It seems to me, reverend father,' said the knight, "'that the small morsels which you eat, together with this holy but somewhat thin beverage, have thriven with you marvellously. You appear a man more fit to win the ram at a wrestling-match, or the ring at a bout at quarterstaff, or the bucklers at a sword-play, than to linger out your time in this desolate wilderness, saying masses and living upon parched peas and cold water.' Sir Knight, answered the hermit, your thoughts, like those of the ignorant laity, are according to the flesh.
It has pleased our lady and my patron saint to bless the pittance to which I restrain myself, even as the pulse and water was blessed to the children Shadrach, Mesech, and Abednego, who drank the same, rather than defile themselves with the wine and meats which were appointed them by the king of the Saracens. Holy Father, said the knight, upon whose countenance it hath pleased heaven to work such a miracle. Permit a sinful layman to crave thy name? Thou mayst call me, answered the hermit. The clerk of Copmanhurst, for so I am termed in these parts. They add, it is true, the epithet holy, but I stand not upon that as being unworthy of such addition. And now, valiant knight, may I pray ye for the name of my honorable guest?
Truly, said the knight, holy clerk of Copmanhurst, men call me in these parts the Black Knight. Many, sir, add to it the epithet of sluggard, whereby I am no way ambitious to be distinguished. The hermit could scarcely forbear from smiling at his guest's reply.
I see, said he, Sir, sluggish knight, that thou art a man of prudence and of counsel, and, moreover, I see that my poor monastic fare likes thee not, accustomed, perhaps, as thou hast been to the license of courts and of camps, and the luxuries of cities. And now I bethink me, Sir Sluggard, that when the charitable keeper of this forest walk left these dogs for my protection, and also those bundles of forage, He left me also some food which, being unfit for my use, the very recollection of it has escaped me amid my more weighty meditations. Dare I be sworn he did so, said the knight. I was convinced that there was better food in the cell, holy clerk, since you first doffed your cowl. Your keeper is ever a jovial fellow.
And none who beheld thy grinders contending with these peas, and thy throat flooded with this ungenial element could see thee doomed to such horse provender and horse beverage, pointing to the provisions upon the table, and refrain from mending thy cheer. Let us the keeper's bounty therefore without delay.
The hermit cast a wistful look upon the knight, in which there was a sort of comic expression of hesitation, as if uncertain how far he should act prudently in trusting his guest. There was, however, as much of bold frankness in the knight's countenance as was possible to be expressed by features. His smile, too, had something in it irresistibly comic, and gave an assurance of faith and loyalty, with which his host could not refrain from sympathizing. After exchanging a mute glance or two, the hermit went to the further side of the hut, and opened a hutch which was concealed with great care and some ingenuity. Out of the recesses of a dark closet, into which this aperture gave admittance, he brought a large pasty, baked in a pewter platter of unusual dimensions.
This mighty dish he placed before his guest, who, using his poignard to cut it open, lost no time in making himself acquainted with its contents. "'How long is it since the good keeper has been here?' said the knight to his host, after having swallowed several hasty morsels of this reinforcement to the hermit's good cheer. "'About two months,' answered the father hastily. "'By the true lord,' answered the knight. "'Everything in your hermitage is miraculous, holy clerk. For I would have been sworn that the fat buck which furnishes this venison had been running on foot within the week.
The hermit was somewhat discountenanced by this observation, and, moreover, he made but a poor figure while gazing on the diminution of the pastry, on which his guest was making desperate inroads. A warfare in which his previous profession of abstinence left him no pretext for joining. "'I have been in Palestine, Sir Clerk.' said the knight, stopping short of a sudden. And I bethink me it is a custom there that every host who entertains a guest shall assure him of the wholesomeness of his food by partaking of it along with him. Far be it from me to suspect so holy a man of aught inhospitable. Nevertheless, I will be highly bound to you would you comply with this eastern custom.
"'To ease your unnecessary scruples, Sir Knight, I will for once depart from my rule,' replied the hermit. And as there were no forks in those days, his clutches were instantly in the bowels of the pasty. The ice of the ceremony being once broken, it seemed a matter of rivalry between the guest and the entertainer which should display the best appetite, and although the former had probably fasted longest, yet the hermit fairly surpassed him. Holy clerk, said the knight, when his hunger was appeased. I would gauge my good horse yonder against a zekin that the same honest keeper to whom we are obliged for the venison has left thee a stoop of wine, or a runlet of cannery, or some such trifle by way of ally to this noble pasty.
This would be a circumstance doubtless totally unworthy to dwell in the memory of so rigid an anchorite. Yet, I think, were you to search yonder crypt once more, you would find that I am right in my conjecture.
The hermit only replied by a grin, and returning to the hutch, he produced a leathern bottle, which might contain about four quarts. He also brought forth two large drinking-cups, made out of the horn of the Eurus, and hooped with silver. Having made this goodly provision for washing down the supper, he seemed to think no farther ceremonious scruple necessary on his part, but, filling both cups, and saying, in the Saxon fashion, Vais hael, Sir Sluggish Knight, he emptied his own at a draught. Drink, hael, Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst, answered the warrior, and did his host reason in a similar brimmer. Holy Clerk? said the stranger, after the first cup was thus swallowed. I cannot but marvel that a man possessed of such thews and sinews as thine, and who therewithal shows the talent of so goodly a trencherman, should think of abiding by himself in this wilderness.
In my judgment you are fitter to keep a castle or a fort, eating of the fat and drinking of the strong, than to live here upon pulse and water, or even upon the charity of the keeper. At least, were I as thou, I should find myself both disport and plenty out of the king's deer. There is many a goodly herd in these forests, and a buck will never be missed that goes to the use of St. Dunstan's chaplain. Sir Sluggish Knight, replied the clerk, these are dangerous words, and I pray you to forbear them. I am true hermit to the king and law, and were I to spoil my liege's game, I should be sure of the prison, And my gown saved me not, were in some peril of hanging.
Nevertheless, were I as thou, said the knight, I would take my walk by moonlight, when foresters and keepers were warm in bed, and ever and anon, as I pattered my prayers, I would let fly a shaft among the herds of dundeeer that feed in the glades. Resolve me, holy clerk, Hast thou never practised such a pastime?
Friend Sluggard, answered the hermit, thou hast seen all that concern thee of my housekeeping, and something more than he deserves who takes up his quarters by violence. Credit me. It is better to enjoy the good which God sends thee, than to be impertinently curious how it comes. Fill thy cup and welcome. And do not, I pray thee, By further impertinent inquiries, put me to show that thou couldst hardly have made good thy lodging, had I been earnest to oppose thee. By my faith, said the knight, thou makest me more curious than ever. Thou art the most mysterious hermit I ever met, and I will know more of thee ere we part. As for thy threats, no, holy man, thou speakest to one whose trade it is to find out danger wherever it is to be met with.
Sir sluggish knight, I drink to thee, said the hermit, respecting thy valor much, but deeming wondrous slightly of thy discretion. If thou wilt take equal arms with me, I will give thee, in all friendship and brotherly love, Such sufficing penance and complete absolution that thou shalt not for the next twelve months sin the sin of excess of curiosity.
The knight pledged him, and desired him to name his weapons. "'There is none,' replied the hermit, "'from the scissors of Delilah, and the tenpenny nail of Jael to the scimitar of Goliath, at which I am not a match for thee. But if I am to make the election, what sayest thou, good friend, to these trinkets?' Thus speaking, he opened another hutch, and took out from it a couple of broadswords and bucklers, such as were used by the yeomanry of the period. The knight, who watched his motions, observed that this second place of concealment was furnished with two or three good long-bows, a cross-bow, a bundle of bolts for the latter, and half a dozen sheaves of arrows for the former. A harp, and other matters of very uncanonical appearance, were also visible when this dark recess was opened.
"'I promise thee, brother clerk,' said he, "'I will ask thee no more offensive questions. The contents of that cupboard are in answer to all my inquiries, and I see a weapon there.' Here he stopped and took out the harp, "'on which I would more gladly prove my skill with thee than at the sward and buckler. I hope, sir knight,' said the hermit. "'Thou hast given no good reason for thy surname of the sluggard. I do promise thee, I suspect thee grievously. Nevertheless, thou art my guest, and I will not put thy manhood to the proof without thine own free will. Sit thee down, then, and fill thy cup. Let us drink, sing, and be merry. If thou knowest ever a good lay, thou shalt be welcome to a nook of pasty at Copmanhurst, so long as I deserve the chapel of St.
Dunstan. Which, please God, shall be till I change my grey covering for one of green turf. But come, fill a flagon, for it will crave some time to tune the harp, and not pitches the voice and sharpens the ear like a cup of wine. For my part, I love to feel the grape at my very finger-ends before they make the harp-strings tingle.
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17 17 - Chapter 17 13:08
Ivanhoe.
Chapter 17. Tune created and sung by John Scott Jones.
Chapter 17 At eve, within yon studious nook, I ope my brass embossed book, Portrayed with many a holy deed, Of martyrs crowned with heavenly mead. Then, as my taper waxes dim, Ere I sleep my measured hymn. Who but would cast his pomp away, To take my staff and a mice gray, And to the world's tumultuous stage Prefer the peaceful hermitage?
Wharton. Notwithstanding the prescription of the genial hermit with which his guest willingly complied, he found it no easy matter to bring the harp to harmony. "'Methinks, holy father,' said he, "'the instrument wants one string, and the rest have been somewhat misused.' "'Ay, mark'st thou that?' replied the hermit. "'That shows thee a master of the craft. Wine and wassail,' he said, gravely casting up his eyes, "'all the fault of wine and wassail. I told Alan Adale, the northern minstrel, that he would damage the harp if he touched it after the seventh cup.' But he would not be controlled. Friend, I drink to thy successful performance. So saying, he took off his cup with much gravity, at the same time shaking his head at the intemperance of the Scottish harper.
The knight, in the meantime, had brought the strings into some order, and after a short prelude asked his host whether he would choose a servente, in the language of ock, or a lei, in the language of hui, or a virle, Or a ballad in the vulgar English. "'A ballad, a ballad,' said the hermit, "'against all the ox and whee's of France. Downright English am I, Sir Knight, and downright English was my patron, St. Dunstan, and scorned, och and whee, as he would have scorned the parings of the devil's hoof. Downright English alone shall be sung in this cell.' I will essay, then. said the knight, a ballad composed by a Saxon gleeman, whom I knew in Holy Land. It speedily appeared that if the knight was not a complete master of the minstrel art, his taste for it had at least been cultivated under the best instructors.
Art had taught him to soften the faults of a voice which had little compass, and was naturally rough rather than mellow, and in short had done all that culture can do in supplying natural deficiencies. His performance, therefore, might have been termed very respectable by abler judges than the hermit, especially as the knight threw into the notes a degree of spirit, and now of a plaintive enthusiasm, which gave force and energy to the verses which he sung. The Crusaders Return.
High deeds achieved of knightly fame, From Palestine the champion came, The cross upon his shoulders borne, Battle and blast had Dimmed and torn, Each dint upon his battered shield Was token of a foughten field, And thus beneath his lady's bower He sung as fell the twilight hour. Joy to the fair thy knight behold, Return'd from yonder land of gold. No wealth he brings, nor wealth can need, Save his good arms and battle-steed, His spurs to dash against a foe, His lance and sword to lay him low, Such all the trophies of his toil, such and the whole. Hope of tactless smile. To the fair whose constant night Her favor fired to feats of might, Unnoted shall she not remain, Where meet the bright and noble train.
Minstrel shall sing and herald tell, Mark yonder maid of beauty well, Tis she for whose bright eyes were one The listed field. At Ascalon. her smile it edged the blade which fifty wives to widows made. When vain his strength and mown spell Iconian's turban sultan fell. Seest thou her locks whose sunny glow Half shows, half shades her neck of snow Twines not of them one golden thread But for its sake a pair He was a man of pain and blood. To the fair my name unknown, each deed and all its praise thine own. Then, O, unbar this churlish gate, the night who falls, the hour is late. Inured to Syria's glowing breath, I feel the north breeze chill as death. Let grateful love quell maiden shame, and grant him bliss.
Who brings thee fame?
During this performance the hermit demeaned himself much like a first-rate critic of the present day at a new opera. He reclined back upon his seat, with his eyes half shut, Now folding his hands and twisting his thumbs, he seemed absorbed in attention, and on balancing his expanded palms, he gently flourished them in time to the music. At one or two favorite cadences he threw in a little assistance of his own, where the knight's voice seemed unable to carry the air so high as his worshipful taste approved. When the song was ended, the anchorite emphatically declared it was a good one, and well sung. "'And yet,' said he, "'I think my Saxon countrymen had herded long enough with the Normans to fall into the tone of their melancholy ditties.
What took the honest knight from home? Or what could he expect but to find his mistress agreeably engaged with a rival on his return, and his serenade, as they call it, as little regarded as the caterwauling of a cat in the gutter? Nevertheless, sir knight, I drink this cup to thee, to the success of all true lovers. I fear you are none. He added, on observing that the knight, whose brain began to be heated with these repeated draughts, qualified his flagon from the water pitcher.
Why, said the knight, did you not tell me that this water was from the well of your blessed patron, St. Dunstan? Ay, truly, said the hermit, and many a hundred of pagans did he baptize there, but I never heard that he drank any of it. Everything should be put into its proper use in this world. St. Dunstan knew, as well as anyone, the prerogatives of a jovial friar. And so saying, he reached the harp, and entertained his guest with the following characteristic song, to a sort of derry-down chorus appropriate to an old English ditty.
It may be proper to remind the reader that the chorus of Derry-Down is supposed to be as ancient not only as the times of the heptarchy, but as those of the Druids, and to have furnished the chorus to the hymns of those venerable persons when they went to the wood to gather mistletoe.
The Bare-Footed Friar I'll give thee, good fellow, a twelvemonth or twain, to search Europe through from Byzantium to Spain. But ne'er shall you find, should you search till you tire, so happy a man as the barefooted friar. Your knight for his lady pricks forth in career, and is brought home at even song pricked through with the spear. I confess him in haste for his lady desires no comfort on earth save the bare-footed friars. Your monarch, Shaw, many a prince has been known to barter his robes for our cowl and our gown, but which of us e'er felt the idle desire to exchange for a crown the great hood of a friar?
The friar has walked out, and where'er he has gone, the land and its fatness is marked for his own. He can roam where he lists, he can stop when he tires, for every man's house is the barefooted friar. He's expected at noon, and no white till he comes, May profane the great chair, or the porridge of plums, For the best of the cheer, and the seat by the fire Is the undenied right of the barefooted friar. He's expected at night, and the pasties made hot. They broach the brown ale, and they fill the black pot. And the good wife would wish the good man in the mire, ere he lacked a soft pillow, the barefooted fryer. Long flourish the sandal, the cord, and the cope, The dread of the devil, and trust of the pope, For to gather life's roses unscathed by the briar Is granted a loan to the barefooted friar.
By my troth, said the knight, thou hast sung well and lustily, And in high praise of thine order. And talking of the devil, holy clerk, are you not afraid that he may pay you a visit during some of your uncanonical pastimes? Ay, uncanonical, answered the hermit. I scorn the charge. I scorn it with my heels. I serve the duty of my chapel duly and truly. Two masses daily, morning and evening, primes, noons, and vespers, aves, credos, patas. Excepting moonlight nights when the venison is in season, said his guest. Exceptus excipiendis, replied the hermit, as our old abbot taught me to say, when impertinent laymen should ask me if I kept every punctilio of mine order. True, holy father, said the knight, but the devil is apt to keep an eye on such exceptions.
He goes about, thou knowest, like a roaring lion. Let him roar here if he dares, said the friar. A touch of my cord will make him roar as loud as the tongues of St. Dunstan himself did. I never feared man, and I as little fear the devil and his imps. St. Dunstan, St. Dubric, St. Winnibald, St. Winifred, St. Swibert, St. Willick, not forgetting St. Thomas, a Kent, and my own poor merits to speed, I defy every devil of them, come cut and long tail. But to let you into a secret— I never speak upon such subjects, my friend, until after morning vespers. He changed the conversation. Fast and furious grew the mirth of the parties, and many a song was exchanged betwixt them, when their revels were interrupted by a loud knocking at the door of the hermitage.
The occasion of this interruption we can only explain by resuming the adventures of another set of our characters. For, like old Ariosto, we do not pique ourselves upon continuing uniformly. to keep company with any one personage of our drama.
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18 18 - Chapter 18 22:01
IVANHOE by Sir Walter Scott. Chapter Eighteen.
Away! Our journey lies through dell and dingle, where the blithe fawn trips by its timid mother, where the broad oak with intercepting boughs checkers the sunbeam in the greensward alley. Up and away! For lovely paths are these to tread when the glad sun is on his throne, less pleasant And less safe when Cynthia's lamp with doubtful glimmer lights the dreary forest. Ettrick Forest.
When Cedric the Saxon saw his son drop down senseless in the lists at Ashby, his first impulse was to order him into the custody and care of his own attendants. But the words choked in his throat. He could not bring himself to acknowledge, in presence of such an assembly, the son whom he had renounced and disinherited. He ordered, however, Oswald to keep an eye upon him, and directed that officer, with two of his serfs, to convey Ivanhoe to Ashby as soon as the crowd had dispersed. Oswald, however, was anticipated in this good office. The crowd dispersed, indeed, but the night was nowhere to be seen. It was in vain that Cedric's cupbearer looked around for his young master. He saw the bloody spot on which he had lately sunk down, but himself he saw no longer.
It seemed as if the fairies had conveyed him from the spot. Perhaps Oswald, for the Saxons were very superstitious, might have adopted some such hypothesis to account for Ivanhoe's disappearance, had he not suddenly cast his eye upon a person attired like a squire, In whom he recognized the features of his fellow-servant, Goethe. Anxious concerning his master's fate, and in despair at his sudden disappearance, the translated swineherd was searching for him everywhere, and had neglected, in doing so, the concealment on which his own safety depended. Oswald deemed it his duty to secure Goethe, as a fugitive of whose fate his master was to judge. Renewing his enquiries concerning the fate of Ivanhoe, the only information which the cupbearer could collect from the bystanders was that the knight had been raised with care by certain well-attired grooms, and placed in a litter belonging to a lady among the spectators, which had immediately transported him out of the press.
Oswald, on receiving this intelligence, resolved to return to his master for farther instructions, carrying along with him Gerth, whom he considered in some sort as a deserter from the service of Cedric. The Saxon had been under very intense and agonizing apprehensions concerning his son, for nature had asserted her rights, in spite of the patriotic stoicism which labored to disown her. But no sooner was he informed that Ivanhoe was in careful and probably friendly hands, than the paternal anxiety which had been excited by the dubiety of his fate gave way anew to the feeling of injured pride and resentment at what he termed Wilfred's filial disobedience. "'Let him wander his way,' said he. "'Let those leech his wounds for whose sake he encountered them.
He is fitter to do the juggling tricks of the Norman chivalry than to maintain the fame and honour of his English ancestry with the glaive and brownbill, the good old weapons of his country. If to maintain the honour of ancestry," said Rowena, who was present, it is sufficient to be wise in counsel and brave in execution. To be boldest among the bold and gentlest among the gentle I know no voice save his father's. "'Be silent, Lady Rowena. On this subject only I hear you not. Prepare yourself for the Prince's Festival. We have been summoned thither, with unwonted circumstance of honour and of courtesy, such as the haughty Normans have rarely used to our race since the fatal day of Hastings.' "'Thither will I go, were it only to show these proud Normans how little the fate of a son who could defeat their bravest can affect a Saxon.' "'Thither,' said Rowena, "'do I not go, and I pray you to beware, lest what you mean for courage and constancy shall be accounted hardness of heart.'" "'Remain at home, then, ungrateful lady,' answered Cedric.
"'Thine is the hard heart which can sacrifice the well of an oppressed people to an idle and unauthorized attachment. I seek the noble Athelstane, and with him attend the banquet of John of Anjou.' He went accordingly to the banquet, of which we have already mentioned the principal events. Immediately upon retiring from the castle, the Saxon thanes, with their attendants, took horse, and it was during the bustle which attended their doing so, that Cedric, for the first time, cast his eyes upon the deserter The noble Saxon had returned from the banquet, as we have seen, in no very placid humour, and wanted but a pretext for wreaking his anger upon some one. "'The gyves,' he said, "'the gyves, Oswald, Hundbert, dogs and villains, why leave ye the knave unfettered?' Without daring to remonstrate, the companions of Girth bound him with a halter as the readiest chord which occurred.
He submitted to the operation without remonstrance, except that, darting a reproachful look at his master, he said, "'This comes of loving your flesh and blood better than mine own.' "'To horse and forward,' said Cedric. "'It is, indeed, full time,' said the noble Attilstain. "'For if we ride not the faster, the wordly abbot Walthiof's preparations for our rare supper will be altogether spoiled.' A rare supper was a night-meal, and sometimes signified a collation which was given at a late hour, after the regular supper had made its appearance.
The travelers, however, used such speed as to reach the convent of St. Wythold's before the apprehended evil took place. The abbot, himself of ancient Saxon descent, received the noble Saxons with the profuse and exuberant hospitality of their nation, wherein they indulged to a late, or rather an early hour. Nor did they take leave of their reverend host the next morning, until they had shared with him a sumptuous refection. As the cavalcade left the court of the monastery, an incident happened, somewhat alarming to the Saxons, who, of all people of Europe, were most addicted to a superstitious observance of omens. And to whose opinions can be traced most of those notions upon such subjects, still to be found among our popular antiquities.
For the Normans, being a mixed race, and better informed according to the information of the times, had lost most of the superstitious prejudices which their ancestors had brought from Scandinavia, and piqued themselves upon thinking freely on such topics. In the present instance, the apprehension of impending evil was inspired by no less respectable a prophet than a large, lean, black dog, which, sitting upright, howled most piteously as the foremost riders left the gate, and presently afterwards, barking wildly and jumping to and fro, seemed bent upon attaching itself to the party.
"'I like not that music, Father Cedric.' said Athelstain, for by this title of respect he was accustomed to address him. "'Nor I, either, uncle,' said Wamba. "'I greatly fear we shall have to pay the piper.' "'In my mind,' said Athelstain, upon whose memory the abbot's good ale—for Burton was already famous for that genial liquor—had made a favourable impression, In my mind, we had better turn back and abide with the abbot until the afternoon. It is unlucky to travel where your path is crossed by a monk, a hare, or a howling dog, until you have eaten your next meal. Away," said Cedric impatiently. The day is already too short for our journey, for the dog I know it to be the cur of the runaway slave Girt, a useless fugitive like its master.
So saying, and rising at the same time in his stirrups, impatient at the interruption of his journey, he launched his javelin at Porfang's. Porfang's it was, who, having traced his master thus far upon his stolen expedition, had here lost him, and was now, on his uncouth way, rejoicing at his reappearance. The javelin inflicted a wound upon the animal's shoulder, and narrowly missed pinning him to the earth, and Fangs fled, howling from the presence of the enraged thane. Goethe's heart swelled within him, for he felt this meditated slaughter of his faithful adherent in a degree much deeper than the harsh treatment he had himself received. Having in vain attempted to raise his hand to his eyes, he said to Wamba, who, seeing his master's ill-humour, had prudently retreated to the rear, I pray thee, Do me the kindness to wipe my eyes with the skirt of thy mantle.
The dust offends me, and these bonds will not let me help myself one way or another.
Wamba did him the service he required, and they rode side by side for some time, during which Girt maintained a moody silence. At length he could repress his feelings no longer. Friend Wamba, said he, Of all those who are fools enough to serve Cedric, thou alone hast dexterity enough to make thy folly acceptable to him. Go to him, therefore, and tell him that neither for love nor fear will Girt serve him longer. He may strike the head from me, he may scourge me, he may load me with irons, but henceforth he shall never compel me either to love or to obey him. Go to him, then, and tell him that Girtz, the son of Beowulf, renounces his service. "'Assuredly,' said Wamba, "'fool as I am, I shall not do your fool's errand.
Cedric hath another javelin stuck into his girdle, and thou knowest he does not always miss his mark.' "'I care not,' replied Girtz. "'How soon he makes a mark of me!' Yesterday he left Wilfrid, my young master, in his blood. To-day he has striven to kill before my face the only other living creature that ever showed me kindness. By St. Edmund, St. Dunstan, St. Withold, and St. Edward the Confessor, and every other Saxon saint in the calendar. For Cedric never swore by any that was not of Saxon lineage, and all his household had the same limited devotion. I will never forgive him. "'To my thinking now,' said the jester, who was frequently wont to act as peacemaker in the family, "'our master did not propose to hurt Fangs, but only to affright him.
For if you observed, he rose in his stirrups as thereby meaning to overcast the mark, and so he would have done, but Fangs, happening to bound up at the very moment, received a scratch, which I will be bound to heal with a penny's breadth of tar.' "'If I thought so—' said Girth. If I could but think so—but no, I saw the javelin was well aimed. I heard it whiz through the air with all the wrathful melvelence of him who cast it, and it quivered after it had pitched in the ground, as if with regret for having missed its mark. By the hog dear to St. Anthony, I renounce him. And the indignant swineherd resumed his sullen silence, which no efforts of the jester could again induce him to break.
Meanwhile Cedric and Athelstane, the leaders of the troop, conversed together on the state of the land, on the dissensions of the royal family, on the feuds and quarrels among the Norman nobles, and on the chance which there was that oppressed Saxons might be able to free themselves from the yoke of the Normans, Or at least to elevate themselves into national consequence and independence during the civil convulsions which were likely to ensue.
On this subject, Cedric was all animation. The restoration of the independence of his race was the idol of his heart, to which he had willingly sacrificed domestic happiness and the interests of his own son. But, In order to achieve this great revolution in favor of the native English, it was necessary that they should be united among themselves, and act under an acknowledged head. The necessity of choosing their chief from the Saxon blood royal was not only evident in itself, but had been made a solemn condition by those whom Cedric had entrusted with his secret plans and hopes. Athelstain had this quality, at least. And although he had few mental accomplishments or talents to recommend him as leader, he had still a goodly person, was no coward, had been accustomed to martial exercises, and seemed willing to defer to the advice of counselors more wise than himself.
Above all, he was known to be liberal and hospitable, and believed to be good-hearted, But whatever pretensions Athelstane had to be considered as head of the Saxon Confederacy, many of that nation were disposed to prefer the title of the Lady Rowena, who drew her descent from Alfred, and whose father, having been a chief renowned for wisdom, courage, and generosity, his memory was highly honored by his oppressed countrymen. It would have been no difficult thing for Cedric, had he been so disposed, to have placed himself at the head of a third party, as formidable at least as any of the others. To counterbalance their royal descent, he had courage, activity, energy, and, above all, that devoted attachment to the cause which had procured him the epithet of the Saxon, And his birth was inferior to none, excepting only that of Athelstain and his ward.
These qualities, however, were unalloyed by the slightest shade of selfishness, and instead of dividing yet farther his weakened nation by forming a faction of his own, it was a leading part of Cedric's plan to extinguish that which already existed by promoting a marriage betwixt Rowena and Athelstain. An obstacle occurred to this his favorite project in the mutual attachment of his ward and his son, and hence the original cause of the banishment of Wilfred from the house of his father. This stern measure Cedric had adopted in the hopes that, during Wilfred's absence, Rowena might relinquish her preference, but in this hope he was disappointed, a disappointment which might be attributed in part to the mode in which his ward had been educated, Cedric, to whom the name of Alfred was as that of a deity, had treated the sole remaining scion of that great monarch with a degree of observance such as, perhaps, was in those days scarce paid to an acknowledged princess.
Rowena's will had been in almost all cases a law to his household, and Cedric himself, as if determined that her sovereignty should be fully acknowledged, within that little circle at least, seemed to take a pride in acting as the first of her subjects. Thus trained in the exercise not only of free will, but despotic authority, Rowena was, by her previous education, disposed both to resist and to resent any attempt to control her affections, or dispose of her hand contrary to her inclinations, and to assert her independence in a case which even those females who have been trained up to obedience and subjection are not infrequently apt to dispute the authority of guardians and parents. The opinions which she felt strongly she avowed boldly, and Cedric, who could not free himself from his habitual deference to her opinions, felt totally at a loss how to enforce his authority of guardian.
It was in vain that he attempted to dazzle her with the prospect of a visionary throne.
Rowena, who possessed strong sense, neither considered his plan as practicable nor as desirable so far as she was concerned, could it have been achieved. Without attempting to conceal her avowed preference of Wilfred of Ivanhoe, she declared that were that favored knight out of question she would rather take refuge in a convent than share a throne with Athelstain. Whom having always despised, she now began, on account of the trouble she received on his account, thoroughly to detest. Nevertheless, Cedric, whose opinion of women's constancy was far from strong, persisted in using every means in his power to bring about the proposed match, in which he conceived he was rendering an important service to the Saxon cause.
The sudden and romantic appearance of his son in the lists at Ashby, He had justly regarded as almost a death's blow to his hopes. His paternal affection, it is true, had for an instant gained the victory over pride and patriotism. But both had returned in full force, and under their joint operation, he was now bent upon making a determined effort for the union of Athelstain and Rowena. Together with expediting those other measures which seemed necessary to forward the restoration of Saxon independence. On this last subject he was now laboring with Athelstane, not without having reason every now and then to lament, like Hotspur, that he should have moved such a dish of skimmed milk to so honorable an action.
Athelstain, it is true, was vain enough, and loved to have his ears tickled with tales of his high descent and of his right by inheritance to homage and sovereignty. But his petty vanity was sufficiently gratified by receiving this homage at the hands of his immediate attendants, and of the Saxons who approached him. If he had the courage to encounter danger, he at least hated the trouble of going to seek it. And while he agreed in the general principles laid down by Cedric, concerning the claim of the Saxons to independence, and was still more easily convinced of his own title to reign over them when that independence should be attained, yet when the means of asserting these rights came to be discussed, he was still, Athelstain the unready, slow, irresolute, procrastinating, and unenterprising.
The warm and impassioned exhortations of Cedric had as little effect upon his impassive temper as red-hot balls alighting in the water, which produced a little sound and smoke, and are instantly extinguished. If, leaving this task, which might be compared to spurring a tired jade, or to hammering upon cold iron, Cedric fell back to his ward Rowena, he received little more satisfaction from conferring with her. For as his presence interrupted the discourse between the lady and her favourite attendant upon the gallantry and fate of Wilfrid, Elgitha failed not to revenge both her mistress and herself by recurring to the overthrow of Athelstane in the lists, the most disagreeable subject which could greet the ears of Cedric.
To this sturdy Saxon, therefore, the day's journey was fraught with all manner of displeasure and discomfort. So that he more than once internally cursed the tournament, and him who had proclaimed it, together with his own folly in ever thinking of going thither. At noon, upon the motion of Athelstane, the travelers paused in a woodland shade by a fountain to repose their horses and partake of some provisions, with which the hospitable abbot had loaded a sumpter mule. Their repast was a pretty long one, and these several interruptions rendered it impossible for them to hope to reach Rotherwood without travelling all night, a conviction which induced them to proceed on their way at a more hasty pace than they had hitherto used.
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19 19 - Chapter 19 19:16
Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott.
Chapter 19.
A train of armed men, some noble dame escorting, so their scattered words discovered, as unperceived I hung upon their rear, are close at hand, and mean to pass the night within the castle. Ora, a tragedy.
The travelers had now reached the verge of the wooded country, and were about to plunge into its recesses, held dangerous at that time from the number of outlaws whom oppression and poverty had driven to despair, and who occupied the forests in such large bands as could easily bid defiance to the feeble police of the period. From these rovers, however, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, Cedric and Athelstane accounted themselves secure, As they had in attendance ten servants, besides Wamba and Goethe, whose aid could not be accounted upon, the one being a jester and the other a captive. It may be added that in traveling thus late through the forest, Cedric and Athostane relied on their descent and character, as well as their courage.
The outlaws, whom the severity of the forest laws had reduced to this roving and desperate mode of life, were chiefly peasants and yeomen of Saxon descent, and were generally supposed to respect the persons and property of their countrymen.
As the travelers journeyed on their way, they were alarmed by repeated cries for assistance. And when they rode up to the place from whence they came, they were surprised to find a horse-litter placed upon the ground, beside which sat a young woman, richly dressed in the Jewish fashion, while an old man, whose yellow cap proclaimed him to belong to the same nation, walked up and down with gestures expressive of the deepest despair, and wrung his hands as if affected by some strange disaster. To the inquiries of Athelstain and Cedric, The old Jew could for some time only answer by invoking the protection of all the patriarchs of the Old Testament successively against the sons of Ishmael, who were coming to smite them, hip and thigh, with the edge of the sword.
When he began to come to himself out of this agony of terror, Isaac of York, for it was our old friend, was at length able to explain that he had hired a bodyguard of six men at Ashby, Together with mules for carrying the litter of a sick friend. This party had undertaken to escort him as far as Doncaster. They had come thus far in safety, but— Having received information from a woodcutter that there was a strong band of outlaws lying in wait in the woods before them, Isaac's mercenaries had not only taken flight, but had carried off with them the horses which bore the litter, and left the Jew and his daughter without the means either of defense or of retreat, to be plundered and probably murdered by the banditti, who they expected every moment would bring down upon them.
Would it but please your valors," added Isaac, in a tone of deep humiliation, to permit the poor Jews to travel under your safeguard. I swear by the tables of our law that never has favor been conferred upon a child of Israel since the days of our captivity, which shall be more gratefully acknowledged. Dog of a Jew, said Athostane, Whose memory was of that petty kind which stores up trifles of all kinds, but particularly trifling offenses. Dost not remember how thou didst beard us in the gallery at the tilt-yard? Fight or flee, or compound with the outlaws as thou dost list. Ask neither aid nor company from us. And if they rob only such as thee, who rob all the world, I, for mine own share, shall hold them right honest folk.
Cedric did not assent to the severe proposal of his companion. "'We shall do better,' said he, "'to leave them two of our attendants and two horses to convey them back to the next village. It will diminish our strength but little, and with your good sword, noble Athelstain, and the aid of those who remain, it will be light work for us to face twenty of those runagates.' Rowena, somewhat alarmed by the mention of outlaws in force, and so near them, strongly seconded the proposal of her guardian. But Rebekah, suddenly quitting her dejected posture, and making her way through the attendance to the palfrey of the Saxon lady, knelt down, and after the oriental fashion in addressing superiors, kissed the hem of Rowena's garment.
Then, rising and throwing back her veil, she implored her in the great name of the God whom they both worshipped, and by that revelation of the law upon Mount Sinai, in which they both believed, that she would have compassion upon them, and suffer them to go forward under their safeguard. "'It is not for myself that I pray this favor,' said Rebekah. Nor is it even for that poor old man. I know that to wrong and to spoil our nation is a light fault, if not a merit, with the Christians. And what is it to us, whether it be done in the city, in the desert, or in the field? But it is in the name of one dear to many, and dear even to you, that I beseech you to let this sick person be transported with care and tenderness under your protection, for if evil chance him, the last moment of your life would be embittered with regret for denying that which I ask of you.
The noble and solemn air with which Rebecca made this appeal gave it double weight with the fair Saxon.
"'The man is old and feeble,' she said to her guardian. "'The maiden young and beautiful, their friend sick and in peril of his life. "'Jews though they be, we cannot as Christians leave them in this extremity. "'Let them unload two of the Sumter mules, "'and put the baggage behind two of the serfs, "'and we have led horses for the old man and his daughter.' "'Cedric readily assented to what she proposed, "'and Athelstain only added the condition. That they should travel in the rear of the whole party where Wamba, he said, might attend them with his shield of Boersbraun. "'I have left my shield in the tilt-yard,' answered the jester. "'As has been the fate of many a better knight than myself.' Athelstane coloured deeply, for such had been his own fate on the last day of the tournament, while Rowena, who was pleased in the same proportion, as if to make amends for the brutal jest of her unfeeling suitor, requested Rebekah to ride by her side.
"'It were not fit I should do so,' answered Rebekah, with proud humility, "'where my society might be held a disgrace to my protectress.' By this time the change of baggage was hastily achieved, for the single word, outlaws, rendered everyone sufficiently alert, and the approach of twilight made the sound yet more impressive. Amid the bustle, Girt was taken from horseback, in the course of which removal he prevailed upon the jester to slack the cord with which his arms were bound. It was so negligently refastened, perhaps intentionally, on the part of Wamba, that Girth found no difficulty in freeing his arms altogether from bondage, and then, gliding into the thicket, he made his escape from the party.
The bustle had been considerable, and it was some time before Girth was missed, for as he was to be placed for the rest of the journey behind a servant, every one supposed that some other of his companions had him under his custody, And when it began to be whispered among them that Goethe had actually disappeared, they were under such immediate expectation of an attack from the outlaws that it was not held convenient to pay much attention to the circumstance. The path upon which the party traveled was now so narrow as not to admit with any sort of convenience above two riders abreast, and began to descend into a dingle, traversed by a brook whose banks were broken, swampy, and overgrown with dwarf willows.
Cedric and Athelstane, who were at the head of their retinue, saw the risk of being attacked at this pass. But neither of them having had much practice in war, no better mode of preventing the danger occurred to them than that they should hasten through the defile as fast as possible. Advancing, therefore, without much order, they had just crossed the brook with a part of their followers when they were assailed in front, flank, and rear at once, with an impetuosity to which, in their confused and ill-prepared condition, it was impossible to offer effectual resistance. The shout of, A white dragon! A white dragon! St. George, for Mary England! War-cries adopted by the assailants, as belonging to their assumed character of Saxon outlaws, was heard on every side, and on every side enemies appeared with a rapidity of advance and attack which seemed to multiply their numbers.
Both the Saxon chiefs were made prisoners at the same moment, and each under circumstances expressive of his character. Cedric, the instant that an enemy appeared, launched at him his remaining javelin, which, taking better effect than that which he had hurled at fangs, nailed the man against an oak-tree that happened to be close behind him. Thus far successful, Cedric spurred his horse against a second, drawing his sword at the same time, and striking with such inconsiderate fury, that his weapon encountered a thick branch which hung over him, And he was disarmed by the violence of his own blow. He was instantly made prisoner, and pulled from his horse by two or three of the banditti who crowded around him.
Athostein shared his captivity, his bridle having been seized, and he himself forcibly dismounted, long before he could draw his weapon, or assume any posture of effectual defense. The attendants, embarrassed with baggage, surprised, and terrified at the fate of their masters, fell an easy prey to the assailants, while the lady Rowena, in the centre of the cavalcade, and the Jew, and his daughter in the rear, experienced the same misfortune. Of all the train, none escaped except Wamba, who showed upon the occasion much more courage than those who pretended to greater sense. He possessed himself of a sword belonging to one of the domestics, who was just drawing it with a tardy and irresolute hand, laid it about him like a lion, drove back several who approached him, and made a brave, though ineffectual, attempt to secure his master.
Finding himself overpowered, the jester at length threw himself from his horse, plunged into the thicket, and, favored by the general confusion, escaped from the scene of action. Yet the valiant jester, as soon as he found himself safe, hesitated more than once whether he should not turn back and share the captivity of a master to whom he was sincerely attached.
I have heard men talk of the blessings of freedom. He said to himself, "'But I wish any wise man would teach me what use to make of it now that I have it.'" As he pronounced these words aloud, a voice very near him called out in a low and cautious tone, "'Wamba!' And at the same time a dog, which he recognized to be fangs, jumped up and fawned upon him. "'Girt!' answered Wamba, with the same caution, and the swineherd immediately stood before him. "'What is the matter?' said he eagerly. "'What mean these cries, and that clashing of swords?' "'Only a trick of the times,' said Wamba. "'They are all prisoners.' "'Who are prisoners?' exclaimed Goethe impatiently. "'My lord and my lady and Athelstane and Hundebert and Oswald?' "'In the name of God,' said Girth, "'how came they prisoners?' "'And to whom?' "'Our master was too ready to fight,' said the jester, "'and Athlustane was not ready enough, and no other person was ready at all.
And they are prisoners to green cassocks and black visors, and they lie all tumbled about on the green like the crab-apples that you shake down to your swine. And I would laugh at it.' said the honest jester. If I could for weeping—and he shed tears of unfeigned sorrow. Girt's countenance kindled. Wamba, he said, thou hast a weapon, and thy heart was ever stronger than thy brain. We're only two, but a sudden attack from men of resolution will do much. Follow me. Whither? And for what purpose? said the jester. To rescue Cedric. "'But you have renounced his service but now,' said Wamba. "'That,' said Goethe, "'was but while he was fortunate. Follow me.' As the jester was about to obey, a third person suddenly made his appearance, and commanded them both to halt.
From his dress and arms, Wamba would have conjectured him to be one of those outlaws who had just assailed his master. But besides that he wore no mask, the glittering baldric across his shoulder with the rich bugle-horn which it supported, as well as the calm and commanding expression of his voice and manner, made him, notwithstanding the twilight, recognize Locksley the yeoman, who had been victorious under such disadvantageous circumstances in the contest for the prize of archery. "'What is the meaning of all this?' said he. Or who is it that rifle and ransom and make prisoners in these forests?
You may look at their cassocks close by, said Wamba, and see whether they be thy children's coats or no, for they are as like thine own as one green pea-cod is to another. I will learn that presently, answered Locksley, and I charge ye, on peril of your lives, not to stir from the place where ye stand until I have returned. Obey me, and it shall be the better for you and your masters. Yet stay. I must render myself as like these men as possible. So saying, he unbuckled his baldric with the bugle, took a feather from his cap, and gave them to Wamba, then drew a vizor from his pouch, and, repeating his charges to them to stand fast, went to execute his purposes of reconnoitring.
Shall we stand fast, Gerd? said Wamba, or shall we e'en give him leg-bail? In my foolish mind, he had all the equipage of a thief too much in readiness to be himself a true man.
Let him be the devil, said Girth, and he will. We can be no worse of waiting his return. If he belong to that party, he must already have given them the alarm, and it will avail nothing either to fight or fly. Besides, I have late experience that arrant thieves are not the worst men in the world to have to deal with.
The yeoman returned in the course of a few minutes.
Friend Goethe, he said, I have mingled among yon men, and have learnt to whom they belong, and whither they are bound. There is, I think, no chance that they will proceed to any actual violence against their prisoners, for three men to attempt them at this moment were little ease than madness, for they are good men of war, and have, as such, placed sentinels to give the alarm when any one approaches. But I trust soon to gather such a force as may act in defiance of all their precautions. You are both servants, and, as I think, faithful servants, of Cedric the Saxon, the friend of the rights of Englishmen. He shall not want English hands to help him in this extremity. Come then with me, until I gather more aid."
So saying, he walked through the wood at a great pace, followed by the jester and the swineherd. It was not consistent with Wamba's humor to travel long in silence. "'I think—' said he, looking at the baldric and bugle which he still carried, that I saw the arrow-shot which won this gay prize, and that not so long since as Christmas. And I, said Girth, could take it on my halidom that I have heard the voice of the good yeoman who won it, by night as well as by day, and that the moon is not three days older since I did so.
Mine honest friends, replied the yeoman, who or what I am as little to the present purpose. Should I free your master, you will have reason to think me the best friend you ever had in your lives. And whether I am known by one name or another, or whether I can draw a bow as well or better than a cowkeeper, or whether it is my pleasure to walk in sunshine or by moonlight, are matters which, as they do not concern you, so neither need ye busy yourselves respecting them. "'Our heads are in the lion's mouth,' said Wamba, in a whisper to Girth. "'Get them out how we can.' "'Hush, be silent,' said Girth.
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20 20 - Chapter 20 17:06
chapter twenty when autumn nights were long and drear and forest walks were dark and dim how sweetly on the pilgrim's ear was wont to steal the hermit's hymn. Devotion borrows music's tone, and music took devotion's wing, and, like the bird that hails the sun, they soar to heaven, and soaring sing. The Hermit of St. Clement's Well.
It was after three hours good walking that the servants of Cedric, with their mysterious guide, arrived at a small opening in the forest, in the center of which grew an oak-tree of enormous magnitude, throwing its twisted branches in every direction. Beneath this tree four or five yeomen lay stretched on the ground, while another, as sentinel, walked to and fro in the moonlight shade. Upon hearing the sound of feet approaching, the watch instantly gave the alarm, and the sleepers, as suddenly, started up and bent their bows. Six arrows placed on the string were pointed towards the quarter from which the travelers approached, when their guide, being recognized, was welcomed with every token of respect and attachment, And all signs and fears of a rough reception at once subsided.
Where's the miller? was his first question. On the road towards Rotherham. With how many? demanded the leader, for such he seemed to be. With six men, and good hope of booty, if it please, St. Nicholas. Devoutly spoken, said Locksley. And where is Alan Adale? Walked up towards the Watling Street to watch for the prior of Jorvaux. "'That is well thought on also,' replied the captain. "'And where is the Friar?' "'In his cell.' "'Thither will I go,' said Loxley. "'Disperse and seek your companions. Collect what force you can, for there's game afoot that must be hunted hard and will turn to bay. Meet me here by daybreak.' "'And stay,' he added.' I have forgotten what is most necessary of the whole.
Two of you take the road quickly towards Torquilstone, the castle of Front de Boeuf. A set of gallants, who have been masquerading in such guise as our own, are carrying a band of prisoners thither. Watch them closely, for even if they reach the castle before we collect our force, our honor is concerned to punish them, and we will find means to do so. Keep a close watch on them, therefore. and dispatch one of your comrades, the lightest of foot, to bring the news of the yeomen thereabout. They promised implicit obedience, and departed with alacrity on their different errands. In the meanwhile, their leader and his two companions, who now looked upon him with great respect, as well as some fear, pursued their way to the chapel of Cotmanhurst.
When they had reached the little moonlight glade, having in front the reverend, though ruinous, chapel, And the rude hermitage, so well suited to ascetic devotion, Wamba whispered to Girth, If this be the habitation of a thief, it makes good the old proverb, the nearer the church, the farther from God. And by my coxcomb, he added, I think it be even so, hearken but to the black sanctus which they are singing in the hermitage. In fact, the anchorite and his guest were performing, at the full extent of their very powerful lungs, an old drinking song. Of which this was the burden. Come, troll the brown bowl to me, Bully boy, bully boy. Come, troll the brown bowl to me. Ho, Jolly Jinkin, I spy a knave in drinking.
Come, troll the brown bowl to me.
Now that is not ill sung, said Wamba, who had thrown in a few of his own flourishes to help out the chorus. But who, in the saint's name, ever expected to have heard such a jolly chant come from out a hermit's cell at midnight? Marry, that should I, said Girth, for the jolly clerk of Cotmanhurst is a known man, and kills half the deer that are stolen in this walk. Men say that the keeper has complained to his official, and that he will be stripped of his cowl and cope altogether, if he keeps not better order. While they were thus speaking, Locksley's loud and repeated knocks had at length disturbed the anchorite and his guest. "'By my beads,' said the hermit, stopping short in a grand flourish, "'here come more benighted guests.
I would not for my cow that they found us in this goodly exercise. All men have their enemies, good sir sluggard.' And there be those malignant enough to construe the hospitable refreshment which I have been offering to you, a weary traveler, for the matter of three short hours, into sheer drunkenness and debauchery, vices alike alien to my profession and my disposition. "'Base calumniators,' replied the knight. "'I would I had the chastising of them. Nevertheless, Holy Clerk.' It is true that all have their enemies, and there be those in this very land whom I would rather speak to through the bars of my helmet than barefaced. Get thine iron pot on thy head, then, friend sluggard, as quickly as thy nature will permit, said the hermit, while I remove these pewter flagons, whose late contents run strangely in mine own pate, and to drown the clatter, for in faith I feel somewhat unsteady, strike into the tune which thou hearest me sing.
It is no matter for the words. I scarce know them myself.
So saying, he struck up a thundering De Profundis Clamavi, under cover of which he removed the apparatus of their banquet, while the knight, laughing heartily and arming himself all the while, assisted his host with his voice from time to time, as his mirth permitted. "'What devil's matins are you after at this hour?' said a voice from without.
Heaven forgive you, sir traveller," said the hermit, whose own noise, and perhaps his nocturnal potations, prevented from recognizing accents which were tolerably familiar to him. Wind on your way, in the name of God and St. Dunstan, and disturb not the devotions of me and my holy brother. "'Mad priest,' answered the voice from without. "'Open to Locksley.' "'All safe, all's right,' said the hermit to his companion. "'But who is he?' said the black knight. "'It imports me much to know.' "'Who is he?' answered the hermit. "'I tell thee he is a friend.' "'But what friend?' answered the knight. "'For he may be friend to thee, and none of mine.' "'What friend?' replied the hermit. "'That now is one of the questions that is more easily asked than answered.' "'What friend?' "'Why, he is.' Now that I bethink me a little, the very same honest keeper I told thee of a while since.
"'Ay, as honest a keeper as thou art a pious hermit,' replied the knight. "'I doubt it not. But undo the door to him before he beat it from its hinges.'" The dogs in the meantime, which had made a dreadful baying at the commencement of the disturbance, seemed now to recognize the voice of him who stood without. For totally changing their manner, they scratched and whined at the door, as if interceding for his admission. The hermit speedily unbolted his portal, and admitted locksly with his two companions. "'Why, hermit,' was the yeoman's first question as soon as he beheld the knight. "'What boon companion hast thou here?' "'A brother of our order,' replied the friar, shaking his head. "'We have been at our Orison's all night.' "'He is a monk of the church militant, I think,' answered Locksley, "'and there be more of them abroad.
"'I tell thee, Friar, thou must lay down the rosary "'and take up the quarterstaff. "'We shall need every one of our merry men, "'whether clerk or layman.' "'But,' he added, taking him a step aside, "'art thou mad to give admittance to a knight thou dost not know? "'Hast thou forgot our articles?' "'Not know him,' replied the Friar, boldly. I know him as well as the beggar knows his dish. "'And what is his name, then?' demanded Locksley. "'His name,' said the hermit. "'His name is Sir Anthony of Scrabblestone, as if I would drink with a man and did not know his name.' "'Thou hast been drinking more than enough, Friar,' said the woodsman. "'And, I fear, prating more than enough, too.' "'Good yeoman,' said the knight, coming forward, "'be not wroth with my merry host.
He did but afford me the hospitality which I would have compelled from him if he had refused it.'" "'Thou compel,' said the friar, "'wait but till have changed this grey gown for a green cassock, and if I make not a quarterstaff ring twelve upon thy pate, I am neither true clerk nor good woodsman.'" While he spoke thus, he stripped off his gown, and appeared in a close black buckram doublet and drawers, over which he speedily did on a cassock of green, and hose of the same color. "'I pray thee, trust my points,' said he to Wamba, "'and thou shalt have a cup of sack for thy labor.' "'Gramercy for thy sack,' said Wamba. "'But think'st thou it is lawful for me to aid you to transmute thyself from a holy hermit into a sinful forester?' Never fear," said the hermit.
I will but confess the sins of my green cloak to my greyfriar's frock, and all shall be well again. Amen, answered the jester. A broadcloth penitent should have a sackcloth confessor, and your frock may absolve my motley doublet into the bargain. So saying, he accommodated the friar with his assistance in tying the endless number of points, as the laces which attached the hose to the doublet were then termed. While they were thus employed, Locksley led the knight a little apart, and addressed him thus. Deny it not, Sir Knight. You are he who decided the victory to the advantage of the English against the strangers on the second day of the tournament at Ashby. And what follows if you guess truly, good yeoman, replied the knight?
I should, in that case, hold you, replied the yeoman, a friend to the weaker party. Such is the duty of a true knight, at least, replied the black champion, and I would not willingly that there were reason to think otherwise of me. But for my purpose, said the yeoman, thou shouldst be as well a good Englishman as a good knight. For that which I have to speak of concerns, indeed, the duty of every honest man, but is more especially that of a true-born native of England. "'You can speak to no one,' replied the knight, "'to whom England, and the life of every Englishman, can be dearer than to me.' "'I would willingly believe so,' said the woodsman, "'for never had this country such need to be supported by those who love her.' Hear me, and I will tell thee of an enterprise, in which, if thou beest really that which thou seemest, thou mayst take an honorable part.
A band of villains, in the disguise of better men than themselves, have made themselves master of the person of a noble Englishman, called Cedric the Saxon, together with his ward and his friend Athelstane of Koningsburg, and have transported them to a castle in this forest called Torkelstone. "'I ask of thee, as a good knight and a good Englishman, wilt thou aid in their rescue?' "'I am bound by my vow to do so,' replied the knight. "'But I would willingly know who you are who request my assistance in their behalf.' "'I am,' said the forester, "'a nameless man, but I am the friend of my country, and of my country's friends.' With this account of me you must, for the present, remain satisfied, the more especially since you yourself desire to continue unknown.
Believe, however, that my word, when pledged, is as inviolate as if I wore golden spurs. "'I willingly believe it,' said the knight. "'I have been accustomed to study men's countenances, and I can read in thine honesty and resolution.' I will, therefore, ask thee no further questions, but aid thee in setting at freedom those oppressed captives, which done, I trust, we shall part better acquainted and well satisfied with each other.
So, said Wamba to Girth, for the Friar being now fully equipped, the Jester, having approached to the other side of the hut, had heard the conclusion of the conversation. So we have got a new ally? I trust the valor of the knight will be truer metal than the religion of the hermit, or the honesty of the yeoman, for this Loxley looks like a born deer-stealer, and the priest like a lusty hypocrite.
Hold thy peace, Wamba, said Girth. It may all be as thou dost guess. But were the horned devil to rise and proffer me his assistance to set at liberty Cedric and the Lady Rowena, I fear I should hardly have religion enough to refuse the foul fiend's offer and bid him get behind me. The friar was now completely accoutred as a yeoman, with sword and buckler, bow and quiver, and a strong partisan over his shoulder. He left his cell at the head of the party, and, having carefully locked the door, deposited the key under the threshold.
Art thou in condition to do good service, Friar, said Locksley, or does the brown bowl still run in thy head?
Not more than a draught of St. Dunstan's fountain will allay, answered the priest. Something there is of a whizzing in my brain, and of instability in my legs, but you shall presently see both pass away. So saying, he stepped to the stone basin, in which the waters of the fountain, as they fell, formed bubbles which danced in the white moonlight, and took so long a draught as if he had meant to exhaust the spring. "'When didst thou drink as deep a draught of water before, Holy Clerk of Cotmanhurst?' said the black knight. "'Never since my wine-butt leaked and let out its liquor by an illegal vent,' replied the friar. And so left me nothing to drink but my patron's bounty here. Then plunging his hands and head into the fountain, he washed from them all marks of the midnight revel.
Thus refreshed and sobered, the jolly priest twirled his heavy partisan round his head with three fingers, as if he had been balancing a reed, exclaiming at the same time, Where be those false ravishers who carry off wenches against their will? May the foul fiend fly off with me, if I am not man enough for a dozen of them. "'Swearest thou, holy clerk?' said the black knight. "'Clerk me no clerks,' replied the transformed priest. "'By St. George and the Dragon, I am no longer a shaveling than while my frock is on my back. When I am cased in my green cassock, I will drink, swear, and woo a lass with any blithe forester in the West riding.' "'Come on, Jack Priest,' said Locksley, "'and be silent.
Thou art as noisy as a whole convent on a holy eve, when the father abbot has gone to bed. Come on, you too, my masters. Tarry not to talk of it. I say, come on. We must collect all our forces, and few enough we shall have, if we are to storm the castle of Reginald Frontdeboeuf.' "'What? Is it Frontdeboeuf?' said the black knight. Who has stopped on the king's highway the king's liege subjects? Is he turned thief and oppressor? Oppressor he ever was, said Locksley. And for thief, said the priest, I doubt if ever he were even half so honest a man as many a thief of my acquaintance. Move on, priest, and be silent, said the yeoman. It were better you led the way to the place of rendezvous than say what should be left unsaid, both in decency and prudence.
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21 21 - Chapter 21 21:48
I. By Sir Walter Scott. Chapter 21 Alas, how many hours and years have passed since human forms have round this table sat, or lamp or taper on its surface gleamed. Methinks I hear the sound of time long past, still murmuring a'er us in the lofty void, of these dark arches, like the lingering voices of those who long within their graves have slept. Aura, a tragedy. While these measures were taken in behalf of Cedric and his companions, the armed men by whom the latter had been seized hurried their captives along towards the place of security, where they intended to imprison them. But darkness came on fast, and the paths of the wood seemed but imperfectly known to the marauders. They were compelled to make several long halts, and once or twice to return on their road to resume the direction which they wished to pursue.
The summer morn had dawned upon them, ere they could travel in full assurance that they held the right path. But confidence returned with light, and the cavalcade now moved rapidly forward. Meanwhile, the following dialogue took place between the two leaders of the banditti. "'It is time thou shouldst leave us, Sir Maurice,' said the Templar to de Bracy, "'in order to prepare the second part of thy mystery. "'Thou art next, thou knowest, to act the knight-deliverer.' "'I have thought better of it,' said de Bracy. "'I will not leave thee till the prize is fairly deposited in front de Booth's castle.' There will I appear before the Lady Rowena in mine own shape, and trust that she will set down to the vehemence of my passion, the violence of which I have been guilty.
"'And what has made thee change thy plan, de Bracy?' replied the Knight Templar. "'That concerns thee nothing,' answered his companion. "'I would hope, however, Sir Knight,' said the Templar. That this alteration of measures arises from no suspicion of my honorable meaning, such as Fitzgerald's endeavored to instill into thee? My thoughts are my own, answered de Bracy. The fiend laughs, they say, when one thief robs another. And we know that were he to spit fire and brimstone instead, it would never prevent a Templar from following his bent. Or the leader of a free company, answered the Templar. From dreading at the hands of a comrade and friend the injustice he does to all mankind.
This is unprofitable and perilous recrimination, answered de Bracy. Suffice it to say, I know the morals of the temple order, and I will not give thee the power of cheating me out of the fair prey for which I have run such risks. Pshaw! replied the Templar. What hast thou to fear? Thou knowest the vows of our order. "'Right well,' said de Bracy. "'And also how they are kept. "'Come, sir Templar. "'The laws of gallantry have a liberal interpretation in Palestine, "'and this is a case in which I will trust nothing to your conscience.' "'Hear the truth, then,' said the Templar. "'I care not for your blue-eyed beauty. "'There is in that train one who will make me a better mate.' "'What? Wouldst thou stoop to the waiting, damsel?' said de Bracy.
No, sir knight, said the Templar haughtily. To the waiting-woman will I not stoop. I have a prize among the captives as lovely as thine own.
By the mass thou meanest the fair Jewess, said de Bracy. And if I do, said Bois-Gilbert, who shall gainsay me?
No one that I know, said de Bracy. Unless it be your vow of celibacy, or a cheek of conscience for an intrigue with a Jewess. For my vow, said the Templar, our grand master hath granted me a dispensation. And for my conscience, a man that has slain three hundred Saracens need not reckon up every little failing like a village girl at her first confession upon Good Friday Eve. Thou knowest best thine own privileges, said de Bracy. Yet I would have sworn thy thought had been more on the old usurer's money-bags than on the black eyes of the daughter. "'I can admire both,' answered the Templar. "'Besides, the old Jew is but half-prize. I must share his spoils with Frontdebuff, who will not lend us the use of his castle for nothing.
I must have something that I can term exclusively my own by this foray of ours, and I have fixed on the lovely Jewess as my peculiar prize.' But now thou knowest my drift, thou wilt resume thine own original plan, wilt thou not? Thou hast nothing, thou seest, to fear from my interference. No, replied de Bracy. I will remain beside my prize. What thou sayest is passing true, but I like not the privileges acquired by the dispensation of the grand master, and the merit acquired by the slaughter of three hundred Saracens. You have too good a right to a free pardon to render you very scrupulous about peccadilloes.
While this dialogue was proceeding, Cedric was endeavoring to wring out of those who guarded him an avowal of their character and purpose. "'You should be Englishmen,' said he. "'And yet, sacred heaven, you prey upon your countrymen as if you were very Normans. You should be my neighbors, and if so, my friends.' For which of my English neighbors have reason to be otherwise? I tell ye, yeomen, that even those among ye who have been branded with outlawry have had from me protection, for I have pitied their miseries, and cursed the oppression of their tyrannic nobles. What, then, would you have of me? Or in what can this violence serve ye? Ye are worse than brute beasts in your actions, and will you imitate them in their very dumbness?
It was in vain that Cedric expostulated with his guards, who had too many good reasons for their silence to be induced to break it, either by his wrath or his expostulations. They continued to hurry him along, traveling at a very rapid rate, until, at the end of an avenue of huge trees, arose Torquilstone, now the hoary and ancient castle of Reginald Frontdebooth. It was a fortress of no great size, consisting of a donjon, or large and high square tower, surrounded by buildings of inferior height, which were encircled by an inner courtyard. Around the exterior wall was a deep moat, supplied with water from a neighboring rivulet. Front de Boeuf, whose character placed him often at feud with his enemies, had made considerable additions to the strength of his castle by building towers upon the outward wall so as to flank it at every angle.
The access, as usual in castles of the period, lay through an arched barbican, or outwork, which was terminated and defended by a small turret at each corner. Cedric no sooner saw the turrets of Frontdebouffe's castle raise their gray and moss-grown battlements, glimmering in the morning sun, above the wood by which they were surrounded, than he instantly augured more truly concerning the cause of his misfortune. "'I did injustice,' he said, to the thieves and outlaws of these woods, when I supposed such banditti to belong to their bands.' I might as justly have confounded the foxes of these breaks with the ravening wolves of France. Tell me, dogs, is it my life or my wealth that your master aims at?
Is it too much that two Saxons, myself and the noble Athelstain, should hold land in the country which was once the patrimony of our race? Put us then to death, and complete your tyranny by taking our lives as you began with our liberties. If the Saxon Cedric cannot rescue England, He is willing to die for her. Tell your tyrannical master. I do only beseech him to dismiss the Lady Rowena in honor and safety. She is a woman, and he need not dread her, and with us will die all who dare fight in her cause.
The attendants remained as mute to this address as to the former, and they now stood before the gate of the castle. De Bracy winded his horn three times, and the archers and crossbowmen, who had manned the wall upon seeing their approach, hastened to lower the drawbridge and admit them. The prisoners were compelled by their guards to alight, and were conducted to an apartment where a hasty repast was offered them, of which none but Athelstain felt any inclination to partake. Neither had the descendant of the confessor much time to do justice to the good cheer placed before them. For their guards gave him and Cedric to understand that they were to be imprisoned in a chamber apart from Rowena. Resistance was vain, and they were compelled to follow to a large room, which, rising on clumsy Saxon pillars, resembled those refectories and chapter-houses which may be still seen in the most ancient parts of our most ancient monasteries.
The Lady Rowena was next separated from her train, and conducted, with courtesy indeed, but still without consulting her inclination to a distant apartment. The same alarming distinction was conferred on Rebecca, in spite of her father's entreaties, who offered even money in this extremity of distress, that she might be permitted to abide with him. "'Base, unbeliever,' answered one of his guards, "'when thou hast seen thy lair, thou wilt not wish thy daughter to partake it.' And without further discussion, the old Jew was forcibly dragged off in a different direction from the other prisoners. The domestics, after being carefully searched and disarmed, were confined in another part of the castle, and Rowena was refused even the comfort she might have derived from the attendance of her handmaiden, Elgitha.
The apartment in which the Saxon chiefs were confined, for to them we turn our first attention, Although at present used as a sort of guard-room, had formerly been the great hall of the castle. It was now abandoned to meaner purposes, because the present lord, among other additions to the convenience, security, and beauty of his baronial residence, had erected a new and noble hall, whose vaulted roof was supported by lighter and more elegant pillars, and fitted up with that higher degree of ornament which the Normans had already introduced into architecture. Cedric paced the apartment, filled with indignant reflections on the past and on the present, while the apathy of his companion served, instead of patience and philosophy, to defend him against everything save the inconvenience of the present moment.
And so little did he feel, even this last, that he was only, from time to time, roused to a reply by Cedric's animated and impassioned appeal to him. "'Yes,' said Cedric. half speaking to himself, and half addressing himself to Appelstain. It was in this very hall that my father feasted with Torkel Wolfganger, when he entertained the valiant and unfortunate Harald, then advancing against the Norwegians, who had united themselves to the rebel Tosti. It was in this hall that Harald returned the magnanimous answer to the ambassador of his rebel brother. Oft have I heard my father kindle as he told the tale. The envoy of Tosti was admitted when this ample room could scarce contain the crowd of noble Saxon leaders, who were quaffing the blood-red wine around their monarch.
"'I hope,' said Athelstain, somewhat moved by this part of his friend's discourse, "'they will not forget to send us some wine and refactions at noon. We had scarce a breathing-space allowed to break our fast, and I never have the benefit of my food when I eat immediately after dismounting from horseback.' Though the leeches recommend that practice. Cedric went on with his story, without noticing this interjectional observation of his friend.
The envoy of Tosti, he said, moved up the hall, undismayed by the frowning countenances of all around him, until he made his obeisance before the throne of King Harold. What terms, he said? Lord King, hath thy brother Toste to hope if he should lay down his arms and crave peace at thy hands? A brother's love, cried the generous Harold, and the fair earldom of Northumberland. But should Toste accept these terms, continued the envoy, what land shall be assigned to his faithful ally, Hardrada, king of Norway? Seven feet of English ground, answered Harold fiercely. Or, as Hardrada is said to be a giant, perhaps we may allow him twelve inches more. The hall rung with acclamations, and cup and horn was filled to the Norwegian, who should be speedily in possession of his English territory.
"'I could have pledged him with all my soul,' said Athelstain, "'for my tongue cleaves to my palate.' The baffled envoy, continued Cedric, pursuing with animation his tale, though it interested not the listener, retreated to carry to Tosti and his ally the ominous answer of his injured brother. It was then that the distant towers of York and the bloody streams of the Derwent beheld that direful conflict, in which, after displaying the most undaunted valor, the king of Norway and Tosti both fell, with ten thousand of their bravest followers. Who would have thought that upon the proud day when this battle was won, the very gale which waved the Saxon banners in triumph was filling the Norman sails and impelling them to the fatal shores of Sussex?
Who would have thought that Harold, within a few brief days, would himself possess no more of his kingdom than the share which he allotted in his wrath to the Norwegian invader? Who would have thought that you, noble Athelstain? that you, descendant of Harald's blood, and that I, whose father was not the worst defender of the Saxon crown, should be prisoners to a vile Norman in the very hall in which our ancestors held such high festival. It is sad enough, replied Athelstain, but I trust they will hold us to a moderate ransom. At any rate, it cannot be their purpose to starve us outright. And yet, although it is high noon, I see no preparations for serving dinner. Look up at the window, noble Cedric, and judge by the sunbeams if it is not on the verge of noon.
"'It may be so,' answered Cedric, "'but I cannot look on that stained lattice without its awakening other reflections than those which concern the passing moment or its privations. When that window was wrought, my noble friend, Our hardy fathers knew not the art of making glass, or of staining it. The pride of Wolfganger's father brought an artist from Normandy to adorn his hall with this new species of emblazonment that breaks the golden light of God's blessed day into so many fantastic hues. The foreigner came here poor, beggarly, cringing, and subservient, ready to doff his cap to the meanest native of the household. He returned, pampered and proud, to tell his rapacious countrymen of the wealth and the simplicity of the Saxon nobles.
A folly, O Athelstain, foreboded of old, as well as foreseen, by those descendants of Hengist and his hardy tribes, who retained the simplicity of their manners. We made these strangers our bosom friends, our confidential servants. We borrowed their artists and their arts, And despised the honest simplicity and hardihood with which our brave ancestors supported themselves, and we became enervated by Norman arts long ere we fell under Norman arms. Far better was our homely diet, eaten in peace and liberty, than the luxurious dainties, the love of which hath delivered us as bondsmen to the foreign conqueror.
"'I should,' replied Appelstein, "'hold very humble diet a luxury at present.' And it astonishes me, noble Cedric, that you can bear so truly in mind the memory of past deeds. When it appeareth, you forget the very hour of dinner. It is time lost, muttered Cedric, apart and impatiently, to speak to him of aught else but that which concerns his appetite. The soul of Hardicanute hath taken possession of him, and he hath no pleasure save to fill, to swill, and to call for more. Alas! said he, looking at Affelstain with compassion, that so dull a spirit should be lodged in so goodly a form. Alas, that such an enterprise as the regeneration of England should turn on a hinge so imperfect. Wedded to Rowena, indeed, her nobler and more generous soul may yet awake the better nature which is torpid within him.
Yet how should this be, while Rowena, Athelstane, and I myself remain the prisoners of this brutal marauder, and have been made so, perhaps from a sense of the dangers which our liberty might bring to the usurped power of his nation?
While the Saxon was plunged in these painful reflections, the door of their prison opened, and gave entrance to a sower holding his white rod of office. This important person advanced into the chamber with a grave pace, followed by four attendants bearing in a table covered with dishes, the sight and smell of which seemed to be an instant compensation to Athelstain for all the inconvenience he had undergone. The persons who attended on the feast were masked and cloaked. "'What mummery is this?' said Cedric. "'Think you that we are ignorant whose prisoners we are when we are in the castle of your master?' Tell him," he continued, willing to use this opportunity to open a negotiation for his freedom, "'tell your master, Reginald Frontdebooth, that we know no reason he can have for withholding our liberty, excepting his unlawful desire to enrich himself at our expense.
Tell him that we yield to his rapacity, as in similar circumstances we should do to that of a literal robber. Let him name the ransom at which he rates our liberty, and it shall be paid.' Providing the exaction is suited to our means. The sower made no answer, but bowed his head. "'And tell Sir Reginald Frontdebooth,' said Athelstane, "'that I send him my mortal defiance, and challenge him to combat with me, on foot or horseback, at any secure place, within eight days after our liberation, which, if he be a true knight, he will not, under these circumstances, venture to refuse or to delay.' "'I shall deliver to the night your defiance,' answered the sower. "'Meanwhile I leave you to your food.' The challenge of Affelstein was delivered with no good grace, for a large mouthful, which required the exercise of both jaws at once, added to a natural hesitation, considerably damped the effect of the bold defiance it contained.
Still, however, his speech was hailed by Cedric as an incontestable token of reviving spirit in his companion, whose previous indifference had begun, notwithstanding his respect for Affelstane's dissent, to wear out his patience. But he now cordially shook hands with him, in token of his approbation, and was somewhat grieved when Athelstain observed that he would fight a dozen such men as Front de Boeuf, if by so doing he could hasten his departure from a dungeon where they put so much garlic into their pottage. Notwithstanding this intimation of a relapse into the apathy of sensuality, Cedric placed himself opposite to Athelstain, and soon showed that if the distresses of his country could banish the recollection of food while the table was yet uncovered, Yet no sooner were the victuals put there than he proved that the appetite of his Saxon ancestors had descended to him, along with their other qualities.
The captives had not long enjoyed their refreshment, however, ere their attention was disturbed even from this most serious occupation by the blast of a horn winded before the gate. It was repeated three times, with as much violence as if it had been blown before an enchanted castle by the destined knight, at whose summons halls and towers, barbican and battlement, were to roll off like a morning vapor. The Saxons started from the table, and hastened to the window. But their curiosity was disappointed, for these outlets only looked upon the court of the castle, and the sound came from beyond its precincts. The summons, however, seemed of importance, for a considerable degree of bustle instantly took place in the castle.
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22 22 - Chapter 22 24:39
XXII. My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter, O my Christian ducats! Justice, the law, my ducats and my daughter! Merchant of Venice.
Leaving the Saxon chiefs to return to their banquet as soon as their ungratified curiosity should permit them to attend to the calls of their half-satiated appetite, we have to look in upon the yet more severe imprisonment of Isaac of York. The poor Jew had been hastily thrust into a dungeon vault of the castle, the floor of which was deep beneath the level of the ground, and very damp, being lower than even the moat itself. The only light was received through one or two loopholes far above the reach of the captive's hand. These apertures admitted, even at midday, only a dim and uncertain light, which was changed for utter darkness long before the rest of the castle had lost the blessing of day.
Chains and shackles, which had been the portion of former captives, from whom active exertions to escape had been apprehended, hung rusted and empty on the walls of the prison, and in the rings of one of those sets of fetters there remained two mouldering bones, which seemed to have been once those of the human leg, As if some prisoner had been left not only to perish there, but to be consumed to a skeleton.
At one end of this ghastly apartment was a large fire-grate, over the top of which were stretched some transverse iron bars, half devoured with rust.
The whole appearance of the dungeon might have appalled a stouter heart than that of Isaac, who, nevertheless, was more composed under the imminent pressure of danger than he had seemed to be while affected by terrors of which the cause was as yet remote and contingent. The lovers of the chase say that the hare feels more agony during the pursuit of the greyhounds than when she is struggling in their fangs. And thus it is probable that the Jews, by the very frequency of their fear on all occasions, had their minds in some degree prepared for every effort of tyranny which could be practiced upon them, so that no aggression, when it had taken place, could bring with it that surprise which is the most disabling quality of terror.
Neither was it the first time that Isaac had been placed in circumstances so dangerous. He had therefore experience to guide him, as well as hope that he might again, as formerly, Be delivered as a prey from the fowler. Above all, he had upon his side the unyielding obstinacy of his nation, and that unbending resolution with which Israelites have been frequently known to submit to the uttermost evils which power and violence can inflict upon them, rather than gratify their oppressors by granting their demands.
In this humor of passive resistance, And with his garment collected beneath him to keep his limbs from the wet pavement, Isaac sat in a corner of his dungeon, where his folded hands, his dishevelled hair and beard, his furred cloak and high cap, seen by the wiry and broken light, would have afforded a study for Rembrandt, had that celebrated painter existed at the period.
The Jew remained without altering his position for nearly three hours. At the expiry of which, steps were heard on the dungeon stair. The bolts screamed as they were withdrawn, the hinges creaked as the wicket opened, and Reginald, frowned above, followed by the two Saracen slaves of the Templar, entered the prison. Frond de Boeuf, a tall and strong man, whose life had been spent in public war or in private feuds and broils, and who had hesitated at no means of extending his feudal power, had features corresponding to his character, and which strongly expressed the fiercer and more malignant passions of the mind. The scars with which his visage was seamed would, on features of a different caste, have excited the sympathy and veneration due to the marks of honorable valor, but in the peculiar case of Frond de Boeuf they only added to the ferocity of his countenance, and to the dread which his presence inspired.
This formidable baron was clad in a leathern doublet, fitted close to his body, which was frayed and soiled with the stains of his armor. He had no weapon, excepting a poniard at his belt. which served to counterbalance the weight of the bunch of rusty keys that hung at his right side. The black slaves who attended Frondeboeuf were stripped of their gorgeous apparel, and attired in jerkins and trousers of coarse linen, their sleeves being tucked up above the elbow, like those of butchers when about to exercise their function in the slaughter-house. Each had in his hand a small pannier, And when they entered the dungeon, they stopped at the door, until Frond de Boeuf himself carefully locked and double-locked it.
Having taken this precaution, he advanced slowly up the apartment towards the Jew, upon whom he kept his eye fixed, as if he wished to paralyze him with his glance, as some animals are said to fascinate their prey. It seemed, indeed, as if the sullen and malignant eye of Frondeboeuf possessed some portion of that supposed power over his unfortunate prisoner. The Jew sat with his mouth agape, and his eyes fixed on the savage baron with such earnestness of terror that his frame seemed literally to shrink together and to diminish in size while encountering the fierce Norman's fixed and baleful gaze. The unhappy Isaac was deprived not only of the power of rising to make the obeisance which his terror dictated, but he could not even doff his cap, or utter any word of supplication.
So strongly was he agitated by the conviction that tortures and death were impending over him. On the other hand, the stately form of the Norman appeared to dilate in magnitude. Like that of the eagle, which ruffles up its plumage when about to pounce on its defenseless prey. He paused within three steps of the corner in which the unfortunate Jew had now, as it were, coiled himself up into the smallest possible space, and made a sign for one of the slaves to approach. The black satellite came forward accordingly, and producing from his basket a large pair of scales and several weights, He laid them at the feet of Frond de Boeuf, and again retired to the respectful distance at which his companion had already taken his station.
The motions of these men were slow and solemn, as if there impended over their souls some preconception of horror and of cruelty.
Frond de Boeuf himself opened the scene by thus addressing his ill-fated captive. "'Most accursed dog of an accursed race,' he said, awaking with his deep and sullen voice the sullen echoes of his dungeon vault. "'Seeest thou these scales?' The unhappy Jew returned a feeble affirmative. "'In these very scales shalt thou weigh me out,' said the relentless baron, "'a thousand silver pounds, after the just measure and weight of the Tower of London.' Holy Abraham," returned the Jew, finding voice through the very extremity of his danger. "'Heard man ever such a demand? Who ever heard, even in a minstrel's tale, of such a sum as a thousand pounds of silver? What human sight was ever blessed with a vision of such a mass of treasure?
Not within the walls of York, ransack my house and that of all my tribe, wilt thou find the tithe of that huge sum of silver that thou speakest of?' "'I am reasonable,' answered von de Boeuf. "'And if silver be scant, I refuse not gold. "'At the rate of a mark of gold for each six pounds of silver, "'thou shalt free thy unbelieving carcass from such punishment "'as thy heart has never even conceived.' "'Have mercy on me, noble knight,' exclaimed Isaac. "'I am old and poor and helpless. "'It were unworthy to triumph over me.' It is a poor deed to crush a worm. "'Old thou mayst be,' replied the knight, "'more shame to their folly who have suffered thee to grow gray in usury and knavery. Feeble thou mayst be, for when had a Jew either heart or hand, but rich is well known thou art.' "'I swear to you, noble knight,' said the Jew, "'by all which I believe, and by all which we believe in common.' "'Perjure not thyself,' said the Norman, interrupting him, "'and let not thine obstinacy seal thy doom, "'until thou hast seen and well considered that fate that awaits thee.
"'Think not I speak to thee only to excite thy terror, "'and practice on the base cowardice thou hast derived from thy tribe.' I swear to thee, by that which thou dost not believe, by the gospel which our church teaches, and by the keys which are given her to bind and to lose, that my purpose is deep and peremptory. This dungeon is no place for trifling. Prisoners ten thousand times more distinguished than thou have died within these walls, and their fate hath never been known. But for thee is reserved a long and lingering death, to which theirs were luxury. He again made a signal for the slaves to approach, and spoke to them apart in their own language, for he had also been in Palestine, where, perhaps, he had learned his lesson of cruelty.
The Saracens produced from their baskets a quantity of charcoal, a pair of bellows, and a flask of oil. While the one struck alight with a flint and steel, the other disposed the charcoal in the large rusty grate, which we have already mentioned, and exercised the bellows until the fuel came to a red glow. Seest thou, Isaac, said Frond de Boeuf, the range of iron bars above that glowing charcoal? On that warm couch thou shalt lie, stripped of thy clothes, as if thou wert to rest on a bed of dawn. One of these slaves shall maintain the fire beneath thee, while the other shall anoint thy wretched limbs with oil, lest the roast should burn. Now choose betwixt such a scorching bed and the payment of a thousand pounds of silver, for by the head of my father thou hast no other option.
"'It is impossible,' exclaimed the miserable Jew. "'It is impossible that your purpose can be real.' The good god of nature never made a heart capable of exercising such cruelty. "'Trust not to that, Isaac,' said Fronteboeuf. "'It were a fatal error. "'Dost thou think that I, who have seen a town sacked, "'in which thousands of my Christian countrymen perished by sword, "'by flood, and by fire, "'will blench from my purpose for the outcries and screams "'of one single wretched Jew?' Or thinkest thou that these swarthy slaves, who have neither law, country, nor conscience, but their master's will, who use the poison, or the stake, or the punyard, or the cord, at his slightest wink, thinkest thou that they will have mercy, who do not even understand the language in which it is asked?
Be wise, old man. Discharge thyself of a portion of thy superfluous wealth. Repay to the hands of a Christian a part of what thou hast acquired by the usury thou hast practiced on those of his religion. Thy cunning may soon swell out once more thy shriveled purse, but neither leech nor medicine can restore thy scorched hide and flesh, were thou once stretched on these bars. Tell down thy ransom, I say, and rejoice that at such rate thou canst redeem thee from a dungeon the secrets of which few have returned to tell. I waste no more words with thee. Choose between thy dross and thy flesh and blood, and as thou choosest, so shall it be. So may Abraham, Jacob, and all the fathers of our people assist me, said Isaac.
I cannot make the choice, because I have not the means of satisfying your exorbitant demand. Seize him, and strip him, slaves, said the knight, and let the fathers of his race assist him, if they can. The assistants, taking their directions more from the baron's eye and his hand than his tongue, once more stepped forward, laid hands on the unfortunate Isaac, plucked him up from the ground, and, holding him between them, waited the hard-hearted baron's farther signal. The unhappy Jew eyed their countenances and that of Frond de Boeuf in hope of discovering some symptoms of relenting. But that of the baron exhibited the same cold, half-sullen, half-sarcastic smile which had been the prelude to his cruelty, and the savage eyes of the Saracens Rolling gloomily under their dark brows, acquiring a yet more sinister expression by the whiteness of the circle which surrounds the pupil, evinced rather the secret pleasure which they expected from the approaching scene than any reluctance to be its directors or agents.
The Jew then looked at the glowing furnace, over which he was presently to be stretched, and seeing no chance of his tormentors relenting, His resolution gave way. "'I will pay,' he said, "'the thousand pounds of silver. That is,' he added, after a moment's pause, "'I will pay it with the help of my brethren, for I must beg as a mendicant at the door of our synagogue, ere I make up so unheard of a sum. When and where must it be delivered?' "'Here,' replied Fr. Anderboeuf. "'Here it must be delivered.' Weighed it must be, weighed and tolled down on this very dungeon floor. Thinkest thou I will part with thee until thy ransom is secure? And what is to be my surety, said the Jew, that I shall be at liberty after this ransom is paid?
The word of a Norman noble, thou pawnbroking slave, answered Frondebuff, the faith of a Norman nobleman, more pure than the gold and silver of thee and all thy tribe. "'I crave pardon, noble lord,' said Isaac timidly. "'But wherefore should I rely wholly on the word of one who will trust nothing to mine?' "'Because thou canst not help it, Jew,' said the knight sternly. "'Were thou now in thy treasure-chamber at York, and were I craving a loan of thy shackles, it would be thine to dictate the time of payment and the pledge of security. This is my treasure-chamber.' Here I have thee at advantage, nor will I again deign repeat the terms on which I grant thee liberty. The Jew groaned deeply. Grant me, he said, at least with my own liberty that of the companions with whom I travel.
They scorned me as a Jew, yet they pitied my desolation, and because they tarried to aid me by the way a share of my evil hath come upon them, Moreover, they might contribute in some sort to my ransom. If thou meanest yonder Saxon churls, said Frondeboeuf, their ransom will depend on other terms than thine. Mind thine own concerns, Jew, I warn thee, and meddle not with those of others. I am then, said Isaac, only to be set at liberty together with mine wounded friend. Shall I twice recommend it? said Frondebeuf, to a son of Israel, to meddle with his own concerns, and leave those of others alone? Since thou hast made thy choice, it remains but that thou payest down thy ransom, and that had a short day.
Yet hear me, said the Jew, for the sake of that very wealth which thou wouldst obtain at the expense of thy... Here he stopped short, afraid of irritating the savage Norman. But Frondebeuf only laughed. and himself filled up the blank at which the Jew had hesitated. At the expense of my conscience, thou wouldst say, Isaac, speak it out. I tell thee I am reasonable. I can bear the reproaches of a loser, even when that loser is a Jew. Thou wert not so patient, Isaac, when thou didst invoke justice against Jacques Fitzdotterell. For calling thee a usurious bloodsucker, when thy exactions had devoured his patrimony. "'I swear by the Talmud,' said the Jew, "'that your valour has been misled in that matter.
Fitzdottrell drew his punyard upon me in mine own chamber, because I craved him for mine own silver. The term of payment was due at the Passover.' "'I care not what he did,' said Frondebeuf. The question is, when shall I have mine own? When shall I have the shakles, Isaac? Let my daughter, Rebecca, go forth to York, answered Isaac, with your safe conduct, noble knight, and so soon as man and horse can return, the treasure—here he groaned deeply, but added, after a pause of a few seconds—the treasure shall be told down on this very floor. Thy daughter? said Frondeboeuf, as if surprised. "'By heavens, Isaac! I would I had known of this! I deemed that yonder black-browed girl had been thy concubine, and I gave her to be a handmaiden to Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert, after the fashion of patriarchs and heroes of the days of old, who set us in these matters a wholesome example.' The yell which Isaac raised at this unfeeling communication made the very wall to ring.
And astounded the two Saracens so much they let go their hold of the Jew. He availed himself of his enlargement to throw himself on the pavement and clasped the knees of Frond de Boeuf. Take all that you have asked, said he. Sir Knight, take ten times more. Reduce me to ruin and to beggary, if thou wilt. Nay, pierce me with thy poniard. Broil me on that furnace, but spare my daughter. Deliver her in safety and honor. As thou art born of woman, spare the honor of a helpless maiden. She is the image of my deceased Rachel. She is the last of six pledges of her love. Will you deprive a widowed husband of his sole remaining comfort? Will you reduce a father to wish that his only living child were laid beside her dead mother in the tomb of our fathers?
I would, said the Norman, somewhat relenting, that I had known of this before. I thought your race had loved nothing save their money-bags. Think not so vilely of us. Jews though we be, said Isaac, eager to improve the moment of apparent sympathy. The hunted fox, the tortured wild cat, loves its young. The despised and persecuted race of Abraham love their children. Be it so, said Frondeboeuf, I will believe it in future, Isaac, for thy very sake. But it aids us not now. I cannot help what has happened, or what is to follow. My word is passed to my comrade-in-arms. Nor would I break it for ten Jews and Jewesses to boot. Besides, why shouldst thou think evil is to come to the girl, even if she became Bois-Gilbert's booty?
"'There will, there must!' exclaimed Isaac, wringing his hands in agony. When did Templars breathe aught but cruelty to men and dishonor to women? Dog of an infidel, said Fraun de Boeuf with sparkling eyes, and not sorry, perhaps, to seize a pretext for working himself into a passion. Blaspheme not the holy order of the temple of Zion, but take thought instead to pay me the ransom thou hast promised, or woe betide thy Jewish throat. Robber and villain! said the Jew, retorting the insults of his oppressor with passion, which, however impotent, he now found it impossible to bridle. "'I will pay thee nothing. Not one silver penny will I pay thee, unless my daughter is delivered to me in safety and honor.' "'Art thou in thy senses, Israelite,' said the Norman sternly.
"'Has thy flesh and blood a charm against heated iron and scalding oil?' "'I care not,' said the Jew, rendered desperate by paternal affection. "'Do thy worst. My daughter is my flesh and blood, dearer to me a thousand times than those limbs which thy cruelty threatens. No silver will I give thee, unless I were to pour it molten down thy avaricious throat. No, not a silver penny will I give thee, Nazarene, were it to save thee from the deep damnation thy whole life has merited.' Take my life, if thou wilt, and say the Jew, amidst his tortures, knew how to disappoint the Christian. We shall see that, said Frondebeuf, for by the blessed rood, which is the abomination of thy accursed tribe, thou shalt feel the extremities of fire and steel.
Strip him, slaves, and chain him down upon the bars. In spite of the feeble struggles of the old man, The Saracens had already torn from him his upper garment, and were proceeding totally to disrobe him, when the sound of a bugle, twice winded without the castle, penetrated even to the recesses of the dungeon, and immediately after loud voices were heard calling for Sir Reginald Frond de Boeuf. Unwilling to be found engaged in his hellish occupation, the savage baron gave the slaves a signal to restore Isaac's garment, And quitting the dungeon with his attendants, he left the Jew to thank God for his own deliverance, or to lament over his daughter's captivity and probable fate, as his personal or parental feelings might prove strongest.
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XXIII. Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words can no way change you to a milder form, I'll woo you like a soldier at arm's end, and love you gainst the nature of love, force you. Two gentlemen of Verona.
The apartment to which the Lady Rowena had been introduced was fitted up with some rude attempts at ornament and magnificence, and her being placed there might be considered as a peculiar mark of respect not offered to the other prisoners. But the wife of Fran de Boeuf, for whom it had been originally furnished, was long dead, and decay and neglect had impaired the few ornaments with which her taste had adorned it. The tapestry hung down from the walls in many places, and in others was tarnished and faded under the effects of the sun, or tattered and decayed by age. Desolate, however, as it was, This was the apartment of the castle which had been judged most fitting for the accommodation of the Saxon heiress, and here she was left to meditate upon her fate, until the actors in this nefarious drama had arranged the several parts which each of them was to perform.
This had been settled in a council, held by Frans de Boeuf, de Brassy, and the Templar, In which, after a long and warm debate concerning the several advantages which each insisted upon deriving from his peculiar share in this audacious enterprise, they had at length determined the fate of their unhappy prisoners.
It was about the hour of noon, therefore, when de Brassy, for whose advantage the expedition had been first planned, appeared to prosecute his views upon the hand and possessions of the Lady Rowena. The interval had not entirely been bestowed in holding counsel with his confederates, for de Brassy had found leisure to decorate his person with all the foppery of the times. His green cassock and vizard were now flung aside. His long, luxuriant hair was trained to flow in quaint tresses down his richly furred cloak. His beard was closely shaved, his doublet reached to the middle of his leg, And the girdle which secured it, and at the same time supported his ponderous sword, was embroidered and embossed with gold-work.
We have already noticed the extravagant fashion of the shoes at this period, and the points of Maurice de Brassise might have challenged the prize of extravagance with a gayest, being turned up and twisted like the horns of a ram. Such was the dress of a gallant of the period, And in the present instance that effect was aided by the handsome person and good demeanour of the wearer, whose manners partook alike of the grace of a courtier and the frankness of a soldier. He saluted Rowena by doffing his velvet bonnet, garnished with a golden brooch, representing St. Michael trampling down the Prince of Evil. With this he gently motioned the lady to a seat, and, as she still retained her standing posture, the knight ungloved his right hand, and motioned to conduct her thither.
But Rowena declined, by her gesture, the proffered compliment, and replied, If I be in the presence of my jailer, Sir Knight, nor will circumstances allow me to think otherwise, it best becomes his prisoner to remain standing till she learns her doom. Alas, fair Rowena! returned de Brassy. You are in presence of your captive, not your jailer, and it is from your fair eyes that de Brassy must receive that doom which you fondly expect from him. I know you not, sir, said the lady, drawing herself up with all the pride of offended rank and beauty. I know you not, and the insolent familiarity with which you apply to me the jargon of a troubadour forms no apology for the violence of a robber. "'To thyself, fair maid,' answered de Brassy in his former tone, "'to thine own charms be ascribed whate'er I have done which passed the respect due to her whom I have chosen queen of my heart and lodestar of my eyes.' "'I repeat to you, sir knight, that I know you not, and that no man wearing chain and spurs ought to intrude himself upon the presence of an unprotected lady.' That I am unknown to you, said de Brassy, is indeed my misfortune.
Yet let me hope that de Brassy's name has not been always unspoken when minstrels or heralds have praised deeds of chivalry, whether in the lists or in the battlefield. To heralds and to minstrels, then, leave thy praise, Sir Knight, replied Rowena, more suiting for their mouths than for thine own. And tell me which of them shall record in a song, or in a book of tourney, the memorable quest of this night, a conquest obtained over an old man, followed by a few timid hinds, and its booty, an unfortunate maiden, transported against her will to the castle of a robber? You are unjust, Lady Rowena, said the knight, biting his lips in some confusion, and speaking in a tone more natural to him than that of affected gallantry, which he had at first adopted.
Yourself free from passion, you can allow no excuse for the frenzy of another, although caused by your own beauty. "'I pray you, sir knight,' said Rowena, "'to seize a language so commonly used by strolling minstrels that it becomes not the mouth of knights or nobles. Sirs, you constrain me to sit down. Since you enter upon such commonplace terms, of which each vile crowder hath a stock that might last from hence to Christmas. Proud damsel, said de Brassy, incensed at finding his gallant style procured him nothing but contempt. Proud damsel, thou shalt be as proudly encountered. Know, then, that I have supported my pretensions to your hand in the way that best suited thy character. It is mether for thy humour to be wooed with bow and bill than in set terms and in courtly language.
Courtesy of tongue, said Rowena, when it is used to veil churlishness of deed, is but a knight's girdle around the breast of a base clown. I wonder not that the restraint appears to gall you. More it were for your honor to have retained the dress and language of an outlaw than to veil the deeds of one under an affection of gentle language and demeanor. You counsel well, lady, said the Norman. And in the bold language, which best justifies bold action, I tell thee, thou shalt never leave this castle, or thou shalt leave it as Maurice de Brassy's wife. I am not wont to be baffled in my enterprises. Nor needs a norman noble scrupulously to vindicate his conduct to the saxon maiden whom he distinguishes by the offer of his hand.
Thou art proud, Rowena, and thou art the fitter to be my wife. By what other means couldst thou be raised to high honor and to princely place, saving by my alliance? How else wouldst thou escape from the mean precincts of a country grange, where Saxons herd with a swine, which form their wealth, To take thy seat, honored as thou shouldst be, and shalt be, amid all in England that is distinguished by beauty or dignified by power? Sir Knight, replied Rowena, the Grange, which you contemn, hath been my shelter from infancy. And trust me, when I leave it, should that day ever arrive, it shall be with one who has not learned to despise the dwelling and manners in which I have been brought up. "'I guess your meaning, lady,' said de Brassy, "'though you may think it lies too obscure for my apprehension.
But dream not that Richard Coeur de Lyon will ever resume his throne, far less that Wilfrid of Ivanhoe, his minion, will ever lead thee to his footstool, to be there welcomed as the bride of a favourite.' Another suitor might feel jealousy while he touched this string. But my firm purpose cannot be changed by a passion so childish and so hopeless. Know, lady, that this rival is in my power, and that it rests but with me to betray the secret of his being within the castle to Frond de Boeuf, whose jealousy will be more fatal than mine. "'Wilfrid, here,' said Rowena in disdain, "'that is as true as that Frond de Boeuf is his rival.' de Brassy looked at her steadily for an instant. "'Wert thou really ignorant of this?' said he.
"'Didst thou not know that Wilfred of Ivanhoe travelled in the litter of the Jew?' A meet conveyance for the crusader, whose doughty arm was to reconquer the Holy Sepulchre.' And he laughed scornfully. "'And if he is here,' said Rowena, compelling herself to a tone of indifference, Though trembling with an agony of apprehension, which he could not suppress. In what is he the rival of Frondeboeuf? Or what has he to fear beyond a short imprisonment and an honorable ransom, according to the use of chivalry? Rowena, said de Brassy, art thou too deceived by the common error of thy sex, who think there can be no rivalry but that respecting their own charms? Knowest thou not there is a jealousy of ambition and of wealth, as well as of love, and that this our host, Frondeboeuf, will push from his road him who opposes his claim to the fair barony of Ivanhoe, as readily, eagerly, and unscrupulously as if he were preferred to him by some blue-eyed damsel?
But smile on my suit, lady, and the wounded champion shall have nothing to fear from Frondeboeuf, whom else thou mayst mourn for, As in the hands of one who has never shown compassion. Save him, for the love of heaven, said Rowena, her firmness giving way under terror for her lover's impending fate. I can, I will. It is my purpose, said de Brassy. For when Rowena consents to be the bride of de Brassy, who is it shall dare to put forth a violent hand upon her kinsman, the son of her guardian, the companion of her youth? But it is thy love must buy his protection. I am not romantic fool enough to further the fortune or avert the fate of one who is likely to be a successful obstacle between me and my wishes.
Use thine influence with me in this behalf, and he is safe. Refuse to employ it, Wilfred dies, and thou thyself art not the nearer to freedom.
Thy language, answered Rowena, Hath in its indifferent bluntness something which cannot be reconciled with the horrors it seems to express. I believe not that thy purpose is so wicked, or thy power so great. Flatter thyself, then, with that belief, said de Brassy, until time shall prove it false. Thy lover lies wounded in this castle, thy preferred lover. He is a bar betwixt Frondeboeuf and that which Frondeboeuf loves better than either ambition or beauty. What will it cost beyond the blow of a poniard, or the thrust of a javelin, to silence his opposition forever? Nay, were Frondeboeuf afraid to justify your deeds so open, let the leech but give his patient a wrong draught, let the chamberlain or the nurse who tends him but pluck the pillow from his head, And Wilfrid, in his present condition, is sped without the effusion of blood.
"'And Cedric also,' said Rowena, repeating his words, "'my noble, my generous guardian, I deserved the evil I have encountered, for forgetting his fate even in that of his son.' "'Cedric's fate also depends on thy determination,' said de Brassy. And I leave thee to form it. Hitherto Rowena had sustained her part in this trying scene with undismayed courage, but it was because she had not considered the danger as serious and imminent. Her disposition was naturally that which physiognomists consider as proper to fair complexions, mild, timid, and gentle, but it had been tempered, and as it were hardened by the circumstances of her education. Accustomed to see the will of all, even of Cedric himself, sufficiently arbitrary with others, give way before her wishes, she had acquired that sort of courage and self-confidence, which arises from the habitual and constant deference of the circle in which we move.
She could scarce conceive the possibility of her will being opposed, far less that of its being treated with total disregard. Her haughtiness and habit of domination was therefore a fictitious character, induced over that which was natural to her, and it deserted her when her eyes were opened to the extent of her own danger, as well as that of her lover and her guardian. And when she found her will, the slightest expression of which was one to command respect and attention, now placed in opposition to that of a man of a strong, fierce, and determined mind, who possessed the advantage over her, and was resolved to use it, she quailed before him. After casting her eyes around, as if to look for the aid which was nowhere to be found, and after a few broken interjections, she raised her hands to heaven, and burst into a passion of uncontrolled vexation and sorrow.
It was impossible to see so beautiful the creature in such extremity without feeling for her. And de Brassy was not unmoved, though he was yet more embarrassed than touched. He had in truth gone too far to recede, and yet, in Rowena's present condition, she could not be acted on either by argument or threads. He paced the apartment to and fro, now vainly exhorting the terrified maiden to compose herself, now hesitating concerning his own line of conduct. If, Thought he, I should be moved by the tears and sorrow of this disconsolate damsel. What should I reap but the loss of those fair hopes for which I have encountered so much risk, and the ridicule of Prince John and his jovial comrades? And yet, he said to himself, I feel myself ill-framed for the part which I am playing.
I cannot look on so fair a face while it is disturbed with agony. Or on those eyes when they are drowned in tears. I would she had retained her original haughtiness of disposition, or that I had a larger share of Frondeboe's thrice-tempered hardness of heart. Agitated by these thoughts, he could only bid the unfortunate Rowena be comforted, and assure her that as yet she had no reason for the excess of despair to which she was now giving way. But in this task of consolation de Brassy was interrupted by the horn, horse-winded blowing far and keen, which had at the same time alarmed the other inmates of the castle, and interrupted their several plans of avarice and of license. Of them all, perhaps, de Brassy least regretted the interruption, for his conference with the Lady Rowena had arrived at a point where he found it equally difficult to prosecute or to resign his enterprise.
And here we cannot but think it necessary to offer some better proof than the incidence of an idle tale to vindicate the melancholy representation of manners which has been just laid before the reader. It is grievous to think that those valiant barons, To whose stand against the crown the liberties of England were indebted for their existence, should themselves have been such dreadful oppressors, and capable of excesses contrary not only to the laws of England, but to those of nature and humanity. But, alas, we have only to extract from the industrious Henry one of these numerous passages which he has collected from contemporary historians, to prove that fiction itself, can hardly reach the dark reality of the horrors of the period.
The description given by the author of the Saxon Chronicle of the cruelties exercised in the reign of King Stephen by the great barons and lords of castles, who were all normans, affords a strong proof of the excesses of which they were capable when their passions were inflamed. They grievously oppressed the poor people by building castles, And when they were built, they filled them with wicked men, or rather devils, who seized both men and women who they imagined had any money, threw them into prison, and put them to more cruel tortures than the martyrs ever endured. They suffocated some in mud, and suspended others by the feet, or the head, or the thumbs, kindling fire below them. They squeezed the heads of some with knotted cords till they pierced their brains, While they threw others into dungeons, swarming with serpents, snakes, and toads.
But it would be cruel to put the reader to the pain of perusing the remainder of this description.
As another instance of these bitter fruits of conquest, and perhaps the strongest that can be quoted, we may mention that the Empress Matilda, though a daughter of the King of Scotland, and afterwards both Queen of England and Empress of Germany, The daughter, the wife, and the mother of monarchs, was obliged during her early residence for education in England to assume the veil of a nun as the only means of escaping the licentious pursuit of the Norman nobles. This excuse she stated before a great council of clergy of England as the sole reason for her having taken the religious habit. The assembled clergy admitted the validity of the plea. and the notoriety of the circumstances upon which it was founded, giving thus an indubitable and most remarkable testimony to the existence of that disgraceful license by which that age was deigned.
It was a matter of public knowledge, they said, that after the conquest of King William, his Norman followers, elated by so great a victory, acknowledged no law but their own wicked pleasure, And not only despoiled the conquered Saxons of their lands and their goods, but invaded the honor of their wives and of their daughters with a most unbridled license. And hence it was then common for matrons and maidens of noble families to assume the veil, and take shelter in convents, not as called thither by the vocation of God, but solely to preserve their honor from the unbridled wickedness of man. Such and so licentious were the times as announced by the public declaration of the assembled clergy, recorded by Edmar, and we need add nothing more to vindicate the probability of the scenes which we have detailed, and are about to detail, upon the more apocryphal authority of the warder M.
S.
Chapter 23.
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XXIV. I'll woo her as the lion woos his bride.
While the scenes we have described were passing in other parts of the castle, the Jewish Rebecca awaited her fate in a distant and sequestered turret. Hither she had been led by two of her disguised ravishers, and on being thrust into the little cell she found herself in the presence of an old Sybil, who kept murmuring to herself a Saxon rhyme, as if to beat time to the revolving dance which her spindle was performing upon the floor. The hag raised her head as Rebekah entered, and scowled at the fair Jewess with a malignant envy with which old age and ugliness, when united with evil conditions, are rapt to look upon youth and beauty. "'Thou must up and away, old house-cricket,' said one of the men.
"'Our noble master commands it. Thou must e'en leave this chamber to a fairer guest.' "'Ay,' grumbled the hag. Even thus is service requited. I have known when my bare word would have cast the best man at arms among ye out of saddle and out of service, and now I must up and away at the command of every groom such as thou. Good dame Erfrid, said the other man, stand not to reason on it, but up and away. Lord's hests must be listened to with a quick ear. Thou hast had thy day, old dame, but thy sun has long been set. Thou art now the very emblem of an old war-horse turned out on the barren heath. Thou hast had thy paces in thy time, but now a broken amble is the best of them. Come, amble off with thee.
Ill omens dog ye both, said the old woman, and a kennel be your burying-place. May the evil demon, Zernibok, tear me limb from limb, if I leave my own cell, ere I have spun out the hemp of my distaff. Answer it to our lord, then, old house-fiend, said the man, and retired, leaving Rebecca in company with the old woman, upon whose presence she had been thus unwillingly forced. What devil's deed have they now in the wind? said the old hag, murmuring to herself, yet from time to time casting a sidelong and malignant glance at Rebecca. But it is easy to guess. Bright eyes, black locks, and a skin like paper, ere the priest stains it with his black unguent. Ay, it is easy to guess why they send her to this lone turret, whence a shriek could no more be heard than at the depth of five hundred fathoms beneath the earth.
Thou wilt have owls for thy neighbors, fair one, and their screams will be heard as far and as much regarded as thine own. Outlandish, too! She said, marking the dress and turban of Rebecca. What country art thou of? A Saracen or an Egyptian? Why dost not answer? Thou canst weep? Canst thou not speak? Be not angry, good mother, said Rebecca. Thou need'st say no more, replied Erfried. Men know a fox by the train, and a jewess by her tongue. For the sake of mercy, said Rebekah, tell me what I am to expect as the conclusion of the violence which hath dragged me hither. Is it my life they seek, to atone for my religion? I will lay it down cheerfully. Thy life, minion, answered the sibyl, what would taking thy life pleasure them?
Trust me, thy life is in no peril. Such usage shalt thou have as was once thought good enough for a noble Saxon maiden. And shall a Jewess like thee repine because she hath no better? Look at me. I was as young and twice as fair as thou when Frondebeuf, father of this Reginald, and his Normans, stormed this castle. My father and his seven sons defended their inheritance from story to story, from chamber to chamber. There was not a room, not a step off the stair, that was not slippery with their blood. They died, they died every man, and ere their bodies were cold, and ere their blood was dried, I had become the prey in the scorn of the conqueror. Is there no help? Are there no means of escape?
said Rebekah. Richly, richly, I would requite thine aid. Think not of it, said the hag. From hence there is no escape but through the gates of death, and it is late. Late, she added, shaking her gray head, ere these open to us. Yet it is comfort to think that we leave behind us on earth those who shall be wretched as ourselves. Fare thee well, Jewess. Jew or Gentile, thy fate would be the same, for thou hast to do with them that have neither scruple nor pity. Fare thee well, I say. My thread is spun out. Thy task is yet to begin. Stay! Stay for heaven's sake, said Rebekah. Stay, though it be to curse and to revile me. Thy presence is yet some protection. The presence of the mother of God were no protection, answered the old woman.
There she stands, pointing to a rude image of the Virgin Mary. See if she can avert the fate that awaits thee. She left the room as she spoke, her features writhed into a sort of sneering laugh, which made them seem even more hideous than the habitual frown. She locked the door behind her, and Rebekah might hear her curse every step for its deepness, as slowly and with difficulty she descended the turret stair.
Rebekah was now to expect a fate even more dreadful than that of Rowena, For what probability was there that either softness or ceremony would be used towards one of her oppressed race, whatever shadow of these might be preserved towards a Saxon heiress? Yet had the Jew this advantage, that she was better prepared by habits of thought and by natural strength of mind to encounter the dangers to which she was exposed. Of a strong and observing character, even from her earliest years, The pomp and wealth which her father displayed within his walls, or which she witnessed in the houses of other wealthy Hebrews, had not been able to blind her to the precarious circumstances under which they were enjoyed.
Like Damocles at his celebrated banquet, Rebekah perpetually beheld, amid that gorgeous display, the sword which was suspended over the heads of her people by a single hair. These reflections had tamed and brought down to a pitch of sounder judgment a temper which, under other circumstances, might have waxed haughty, supercilious, and obstinate. From her father's example and injunctions, Rebecca had learned to bear herself cautiously towards all who approached her. She could not indeed imitate his excess of subservience, Because she was a stranger to the meanness of mind and to the constant state of timid apprehension by which it was dictated. But she bore herself with a proud humility, as if submitting to the evil circumstances in which she was placed as the daughter of a despised race, while she felt in her mind the consciousness that she was entitled to hold a higher rank from her merit than the arbitrary despotism of religious prejudice permitted her to aspire to.
Thus prepared to expect adverse circumstances, she had acquired the firmness necessary for acting under them. Her present situation required all her presence of mind, and she summoned it up accordingly. Her first care was to inspect the apartment, but it afforded few hopes either of escape or protection. It contained neither secret passage nor trap-door, And unless where the door by which she had entered joined the main building seemed to be circumscribed by the round exterior wall of the turret. The door had no inside bolt or bar. The single window opened upon an embattled space amounting the turret, which gave Rebecca, at first sight, some hopes of escaping. But she soon found it had no communication with any other part of the battlements, being an isolated partisan, or Balcony, secured as usual by a parapet, with embrasures at which a few archers might be stationed for defending the turret, and flanking with their shot the wall of the castle on that side.
There was therefore no hope but in passive fortitude, and in that strong reliance on heaven natural to great and generous characters. Rebekah, however erroneously taught to interpret the promises of Scripture to the chosen people of heaven, did not err in supposing the present to be their hour of trial, and in trusting that the children of Zion would be one day called in with the fulness of the Gentiles. In the meanwhile, all around her showed that their present state was that of punishment and probation, and that it was their especial duty to suffer, Without sinning. Thus prepared to consider herself as the victim of misfortune, Rebecca had early reflected upon her own state, and schooled her mind to meet the dangers which she had probably to encounter.
The prisoner trembled, however, and changed color, when a step was heard on the stair, and the door of the turret-chamber slowly opened, and a tall man, dressed as one of those banditti to whom they owed the misfortune, slowly entered, and shut the door behind him. His cap, pulled down upon his brows, concealed the upper part of his face, and he held his mantle in such a manner as to muffle the rest. In this guise, as if prepared for the execution of some deed, at the thought of which he was himself ashamed, he stood before the affrighted prisoner. Yet Ruffin, as his dress bespoke him, He seemed at a loss to express what purpose had brought him thither, so that Rebecca, making an effort upon herself, had time to anticipate his explanation.
She had already unclasped two costly bracelets and a collar, which she hastened to proffer to the supposed outlaw, concluding naturally that to gratify his avarice was to bespeak his favor. Take these, she said, good friend, And for God's sake be merciful to me and my aged father. These ornaments are of value, yet are they trifling to what we would bestow to obtain our dismissal from this castle free and uninjured. "'Fair flower of Palestine,' replied the outlaw, "'these pearls are orient, but they yield in whiteness to your teeth. The diamonds are brilliant, but they cannot match your eyes. And ever since I have taken up this wild trade, I have made a vow to prefer beauty to wealth. "'Do not yourself such wrong,' said Rebekah.
"'Take ransom, and have mercy. Gold will purchase you pleasure. To misuse us could only bring thee remorse. My father will willingly satiate thy utmost wishes, and if thou wilt act wisely, thou mayst purchase without spoils thy restoration to civil society, mayst obtain pardon for past errors, and be placed beyond the necessity of committing more. "'It is well spoken,' replied the outlaw in French, finding it difficult, probably, to sustain in Saxon a conversation which Rebecca had opened in that language. "'But know, bright lily of the Vale of Beka, that thy father is already in the hands of a powerful alchemist, who knows how to convert into gold and silver even the rusty bars of a dungeon great.' The venerable Isaac is subjected to an alembic which will distill from him all he holds dear, without any assistance from my requests or thy entreaty.
Thy ransom must be paid by love and beauty, and in no other coin will I accept it. Thou art no outlaw, said Rebekah, in the same language in which he addressed her. No outlaw had refused such offers. No outlaw in this land used the dialect in which thou hast spoken. Thou art no outlaw, but a Norman, a Norman, noble, perhaps, in birth. O be so in thy actions, and cast off this fearful mask of outrage and violence. And thou, who canst guess so truly, said Brayne de Bois-Gilbert, dropping the mantle from his face, art no true daughter of Israel, But in all, save youth and beauty, a very witch of Endor. I am not an outlaw, then, fair Rose of Sharon, and I am one who will be more prompt to hang thy neck and arms with pearls and diamonds, which so well become them, than to deprive thee of these ornaments.
What wouldst thou have of me, said Rebekah, if not my wealth? We can have naught in common between us. You are a Christian. I am a Jewess. Our union were contrary to the laws alike of the church and the synagogue. It were so indeed, replied the Templar, laughing. Wed with a Jewess. D'partieus! Not if she were the Queen of Sheba. And no, besides, sweet daughter of Zion, that were the most Christian king to offer me his most Christian daughter with long a dog for a dowry, I could not wed her. It is against my vow to love any maiden. Otherwise than par amour, as I will love thee. I am a Templar. Behold the cross of my holy order.
Darst thou appeal to it, said Rebekah, on an occasion like the present? And if I do so, said the Templar, it concerns not thee, who art no believer in the blessed sign of our salvation. I believe as my fathers taught, said Rebekah. And may God forgive my belief, if erroneous. But you, sir knight, what is yours when you appeal without scruple to that which you deem most holy, even while you are about to transgress the most solemn of your vows as a knight and as a man of religion? It is gravely and well preached, O daughter of Cyrek, answered the Templar. But, gentle Ecclesiastica, Thy narrow Jewish prejudices make thee blind to our high privilege. Marriage were an enduring crime on the part of a Templar, but what lesser folly I may practice, I shall speedily be absolved from at the next preceptory of our order.
Not the wisest of monarchs, not his father, whose examples you must needs allow are weighty, claimed wider privileges than we poor soldiers of the Temple of Zion have won by our zeal in its defense. The protectors of Solomon's temple may claim license by the example of Solomon. If thou readest the scripture, said the Jews, and the lives of the saints, only to justice thine own license and profligacy, thy crime is like that of him who extracts poison from the most healthful and necessary herbs. The eyes of the Templar flashed fire at this reproof. Harken, he said, Rebekah, I have hitherto spoken mildly to thee. But now my language shall be that of a conqueror. Thou art the captive of my bow and spear, subject to my will by the laws of all nations.
Nor will I abate an inch of my right, or abstain from taking by violence what thou refusest to entreaty or necessity. Stand back, said Rebekah, stand back, and hear me, ere thou offerst to commit a sin so deadly. My strength thou mayest indeed overpower, For God made women weak, and trusted their defense to man's generosity. But I will proclaim thy villainy, Templer, from one end of Europe to the other. I will owe to the superstition of thy brethren what their compassion might refuse me. Each preceptory, each chapter of thy order, shall learn that, like a heretic, thou hast sinned with a Jewess. Those who tremble not at thy crime will hold thee accursed for having so far dishonored the cross thou wearest as to follow a daughter of my people.
"'Thou art keen-witted, Jewess,' replied the Templar, well aware of the truth of what she spoke, and that the rules of his order condemned in the most positive manner and under high penalties such intrigues as he now prosecuted, and that in some instances even degradation had followed upon it.' Thou art sharp-witted, he said. But loud must be thy voice of complaint if it is heard beyond the iron walls of this castle. Within these, murmurs, laments, appeals to justice, and screams for help, die alike silent away.
One thing only can save thee, Rebecca. Submit to thy fate. Embrace our religion. And thou shalt go forth in such state that many a Norman lady shall yield as well in pomp as in beauty to the favorite of the best lands among the defenders of the temple. Submit to my fate, said Rebekah. And, sacred heaven, to what fate? Embrace thy religion. And what religion can it be that harbors such a villain? Thou the best lands of the Templars? Craven knight, forsworn priest, I spit at thee, and I defy thee. The God of Abraham's promise hath opened an escape to his daughter, even from this abyss of infamy. As she spoke, she threw open the latticed window which led to the partisan, and an instant after she stood on the very verge of the parapet, with not the slightest screen between her and the tremendous depth below.
Unprepared for such a desperate effort, For she had hitherto stood perfectly motionless. Bois-Gilbert had neither time to intercept nor to stop her. As he offered to advance, she exclaimed, "'Remain where thou art, proud Templar, or at thy choice advance. One foot nearer, and I plunge myself from the precipice. My body shall be crushed out of the very form of humanity upon the stones of that courtyard, ere it become the victim of thy brutality.' As she spoke this, she clasped her hands and extended them towards heaven, as if imploring mercy on her soul before she made the final plunge. The Templar hesitated, and a resolution, which had never yielded to pity or distress, gave way to his admiration of her fortitude.
"'Come down,' he said, rash girl. "'I swear by earth and sea and sky. I will offer thee no offense.' "'I will not trust thee, Templer,' said Rebekah. "'Thou hast taught me better how to estimate the virtues of thine order. The next preceptory would grant thee absolution, for an oath the keeping of which concerned naught but the honor or the dishonor of a miserable Jewish maiden.' "'You do me injustice,' exclaimed the Templer fervently. "'I swear to you by the name which I bear, by the cross on my bosom, By the sword on my side, by the ancient crest of my father's, do I swear, I will do thee no injury whatsoever. If not for thyself, yet for thy father's sake forbear, I will be his friend, and in this castle he will need a powerful one.
"'Alas,' said Rebecca, "'I know it but too well. Dare I trust thee?' "'May my arms be reversed and my name dishonoured,' said Brian de Bois-Gilbert. If thou shalt have reason to complain of me. Many a law, many a commandment, have I broken, but my word never. I will then trust thee, said Rebekah, thus far. And she descended from the verge of the battlement, but remained standing close by one of the imbrasures, or machicoll, as they were then called. Here, she said, I take my stand. Remain where thou art, And if thou shalt attempt to diminish by one step the distance now between us, thou shalt see that the Jewish maiden will rather trust her soul with God than her honor to the Templar. While Rebekah spoke thus, her high and firm resolve, which corresponded so well with the expressive beauty of her countenance, gave to her looks, air, and manner a dignity that seemed more than mortal.
Her glance quailed not. Her cheek blanched not, for the fear of a fate so instant and so horrible. On the contrary, the thought that she had her fate at her command, and could escape at will from infamy to death, gave a yet deeper color of carnation to her complexion, and a yet more brilliant fire to her eye. Bois-Gilbert, proud himself and high-spirited, Thought he had never beheld beauty so animated and so commanding. "'Let there be peace between us, Rebecca,' he said. "'Peace, if thou wilt,' answered Rebecca. "'Peace, but with this pace between.' "'Thou need'st no longer fear me,' said Bois-Gilbert. "'I fear thee not,' replied she, "'thanks to him that reared this dizzy tower so high, That naught could fall from it and live.
Thanks to him, and to the God of Israel, I fear thee not. "'Thou dost me injustice,' said the Templar. "'By earth, sea, and sky, thou dost me injustice. I am not naturally that which you have seen me, hard, selfish, and relentless. It was woman that taught me cruelty, and on woman therefore I have exercised it, but not upon such as thou.' Hear me, Rebecca. Never did Knight take Lance in his hand with a heart more devoted to the lady of his love than Brian de Bois-Gilbert. She, the daughter of a petty baron, who boasted for all his domains but a ruinous tower and an unproductive vineyard, and some few leagues of the barren lands of Bordeaux, her name was known wherever deeds of arms were done, known wider than that of many a lady's that had a county for a dowry.
Yes, he continued, pacing up and down the little platform, with an animation in which he seemed to lose all consciousness of Rebecca's presence. Yes, my deeds, my danger, my blood made the name of Adelaide de Montemar, known from the court of Castile to that of Byzantium. And how was I required? When I returned with my dear-bought honors, purchased by toil and blood, I found her wedded to a Gascon squire, Whose name was never heard beyond the limits of his own paltry domain. Truly did I love her, and bitterly did I revenge me of her broken faith. But my vengeance has recoiled on myself. Since that day I have separated myself from life and its ties. My manhood must know no domestic home, must be soothed by no affectionate wife.
My age must know no kindly hearth. My grave must be solitary, and no offspring must outlive me, to bear the ancient name of Boisguilbert. At the feet of my superior have I laid down the right of self-action, the privilege of independence. The Templar, a serf in all but the name, can possess neither lands nor goods, and lives, moves, and breathes but at the will and pleasure of another. "'Alas,' said Rebecca, What advantages could compensate for such an absolute sacrifice? "'The power of vengeance, Rebekah,' replied the Templar, "'and the prospects of ambition.' "'An evil recompense,' said Rebekah, "'for the surrender of the rights which are dearest to humanity.' "'Say not so, maiden,' answered the Templar.
"'Revenge is a feast for the gods.' And if they have reserved it, as priests tell us, to themselves, it is because they hold it an enjoyment too precious for the possession of mere mortals. And ambition? It is a temptation which could disturb even the bliss of heaven itself. He paused a moment, and then added, Rebekah, she who could prefer death to dishonor must have a proud and a powerful soul. Mine thou must be. Nay, Start not, he added. It must be with thine own consent, and on thine own terms. Thou must consent to share with me hopes more extended than can be viewed from the throne of a monarch. Hear me ere you answer, and judge ere you refuse. The Templar loses, as thou hast said, his social rights, his power of free agency, but he becomes a member and a limb of a mighty body, before which thrones already tremble, Even as the single drop of rain, which mixes with the sea, becomes an individual part of that resistless ocean, which undermines rocks and engulfs royal armadas.
Such a swelling flood is that powerful league. Of this mighty order I am no mean member, but already one of the chief commanders, and may well aspire one day to hold the baton of grand master. The poor soldiers of the temple Will not alone place their foot upon the necks of kings. A hemp-sandalled monk can do that. Our mailed step shall ascend their throne. Our gauntlet shall wrench the sceptre from their gripe. Not the reign of your vainly expected Messiah offers such power to your dispersed tribes as my ambition may aim at. I have sought but a kindred spirit to share it, and I have found one such in thee.
Sayest thou this to one of my people? answered Rebekah. Bethink thee. Answer me not, said the Templar, by urging the difference of our creeds. Within our secret conclaves we hold these nursery tales in derision. Think not we long remained blind to the idiotical folly of our founders, who forswore every delight of life for the pleasure of dying martyrs by hunger, by thirst, and by pestilence, and by the swords of savages, while they vainly strove to defend a barren desert, valuable only in the eyes of superstition. Our order soon adopted bolder and wider views, and found out a better indemnification for our sacrifices. Our immense possessions in every kingdom of Europe, our high military fame, which brings within our circle the flower of chivalry from every Christian clime, These are dedicated to ends of which our pious founders little dreamed, and which are equally concealed from such weak spirits as embrace our order on the ancient principles, and whose superstition makes them our passive tools.
But I will not further withdraw the veil of our mysteries. That bugle's sound announces something which may require my presence. Think on what I have said. Farewell. I do not say forgive me the violence. I have threatened, for it was necessary to the display of thy character. Gold can only be known by the application of the touchstone. I will soon return, and hold further conference with thee. He re-entered the turret chamber, and descended the stair, leaving Rebecca scarcely more terrified at the prospect of the death to which she had been so lately exposed, than at the furious ambition of the bold bad man in whose power she found herself so unhappily placed.
When she entered the turret chamber, her first duty was to return thanks to the God of Jacob for the protection which he had afforded her, and to implore its continuance for her and for her father. Another name glided into her petition. It was that of the wounded Christian, Whom fate had placed in the hands of bloodthirsty men, his avowed enemies. Her heart indeed checked her, as if, even in communing with a deity in prayer, she mingled in her devotions the recollection of one with whose fate hers could have no alliance, a Nazarene and an enemy to her faith. But the petition was already breathed, Nor could all the narrow prejudices of her sect induce Rebekah to wish it recalled.
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XXV. A damn cramped piece of penmanship as ever I saw in my life. She stoops to conquer. When the Templar reached the hall of the castle, he found de Bracy already there. Your love-suit, said de Bracy, hath, I suppose, been disturbed, like mine, by this obstreperous summons. But you have come later and more reluctantly, and therefore I presume your interview has proved more agreeable than mine. "'Has your suit, then, been unsuccessfully paid to the Saxon heiress?' said the Templar. "'By the bones of Thomas the Becket,' answered de Bracey, "'the lady Rowena must have heard that I cannot endure the sight of women's tears.' "'Away,' said the Templar. "'Thou a leader of a free company, and regard a woman's tears.' A few drops sprinkled on the torch of love Make the flame blaze the brighter.
"'Gre mercy for the few drops of thy sprinkling,' replied de Bracy. "'But this damsel hath wept enough to extinguish a beacon light. Never was such wringing of hands and such overflowing of eyes since the days of St. Niobe, of whom Prior Amor told us. A water fiend hath possessed the fair Saxon.' "'A legion of fiends have occupied the bosom of the Jewess,' replied the Templar, "'for I think no single one, not even Apollyon himself, could have inspired such indomitable pride and resolution. But where is front de Boeuf? That horn is sounded more and more clamorously.' "'He is negotiating with the Jew, I suppose,' replied de Bracy coolly. Probably the howls of Isaac have drowned the blast of the bugle.
Thou mayest know, my experience, Sir Brian, that a Jew parting with his treasures on such terms as our friend Front du Booth is like to offer will raise a clamor loud enough to be heard over twenty horns and trumpets to boot, but we will make the basils call him. They were soon after joined by Front du Booth, who had been disturbed in his tyrannic cruelty in the manner with which the reader is acquainted, and had only tarried to give some necessary directions. "'Let us see the cause of this cursed clamor,' said Frant de Booth. "'Here is a letter, and if I mistake not, it is in Saxon.' He looked at it, turning it round and round, as if he had had Really some hopes of coming at the meaning by inverting the position of the paper, and then handed it to de Bracy.
"'It may be magic spells for aught I know,' said de Bracy, who possessed his full proportion of the ignorance which characterized the chivalry of the period. "'Our chaplain attempted to teach me to write,' he said, "'but all my letters were formed like spearheads and sword blades, And so the old Shavalin gave up the task. "'Give it to me,' said the Templar. "'We have that of the priestly character, that we have some knowledge to enlighten our valour.' "'Let us profit by your most reverend knowledge, then,' said de Bracy. "'What says the scroll?' "'It is a formal letter of defiance,' answered the Templar. "'But by Our Lady of Bethlehem, if it be not a foolish jest, It is the most extraordinary cartel that ever was sent across the drawbridge of a barrenal castle.
Jest, said Front de Booth. I would gladly know who dares jest with me in such a matter. Read it, Sir Brian. The Templar accordingly read it as follows. I Womber, the son of Witless, jester to a noble and free-born man, Cedric of Rutherford, called the Saxon, "'And I, Girth, the son of Beowulf, the swineherd.' "'Thou art mad,' said Front de Booth, interrupting the reader. "'By St. Luke, it is so set down,' answered the Templar. "'Then, resuming his task, he went on. "'I, Girth, the son of Beowulf, swineherd, unto the said Cedric, with the assistance of our allies and confederates, who make common cause with us in this our feud, namely the good knight called for the present, the noire fainant, and the stout yeoman, Robert Loxley, called Cleve the wand.
Do you, Reginald Front de Booth, and your allies and accomplices, whomsoever, to wit that whereas you have, without cause given or feud, declared Wrongfully and by mastery seized upon the person of our lord and master, the said Cedric. Also upon the person of a noble and free-born damsel, the Lady Rowena of Hargot's Danstead. Also upon the person of a noble and free-born man, Athelstan of Koningsburg. Also upon the persons of certain free-born men, their knits. Also upon certain serfs, Their born bondsman, also upon a certain Jew, named Isaac of York, together with his daughter, a Jewess, and certain horses and mules, which noble persons with their knits and slaves, and also with the horses and mules, Jew and Jewess, before said, were all in peace with his majesty, and travelling as large subjects upon the king's highway, Therefore we require and demand that the said noble persons, namely Cedric of Rotherwood, Rowena of Hargett-Stansteed, Athelstan of Coningsburg, with their servants Nuts and followers, also the horses and mules, Jew and Jewess aforesaid, together with all goods and chattels to them pertaining, be within an hour after the delivery hereof, Delivered to us, or to those whom we shall appoint to receive the same, and that untouched and unharmed in body and goods, failing of which we do pronounce to you that we hold ye as robbers and traitors, and will wager our bodies against ye in battle, siege or otherwise, and do our utmost to your annoyance and destruction.
Wherefore may God have you in his keeping? Signed by us upon the eve of St. Withhold's Day, under the great trysting oak in the Hart Hill Walk, the above being written by a holy man, Clerk to God, Our Lady, and St. Dunstan, in the chapel of Copemanhurst. At the bottom of this document was scrawled, in the first place, a rude sketch of a cock's head and comb, With a legend expressing his hieroglyphic to be assigned Manuel of Wamba, son of Witless. Under the respectable emblem stood a cross, stated to be the mark of Girth, the son of Beowulf. Then was written, in rough bold characters, the words, L'honneur, Fainte, and, to conclude the whole, an arrow, neatly enough drawn, was described as the mark of the yeoman locksley.
The knights heard this uncommon document read from end to end, and then gazed upon each other in silent amazement, as being utterly at a loss to know what it could pretend. De Bracy was the first to break silence by an uncontrollable fit of laughter, wherein he was joined, though with more moderation, by the Templar, Front de Booth, on the contrary, seemed impatient of their ill-timed jocularity. "'I give you plain warning,' he said, "'fair sirs, that you had better consult how to bear yourselves under these circumstances than give way to such misplaced merriment. Front de Booth has not recovered his temper since his late overthrow,' said de Bracy to the Templar. He is cowed at the very idea of a cartel, though it come but from a fool and swineherd.
"'By St. Michael,' answered Front de Booth, "'I would thou couldst stand the whole brunt of this adventure thyself, de Bracy.' These fellows dared not have acted with such inconceivable impudence, had they not been supported by some strong bands. There are enough of outlaws in this forest to resent my protecting the deer. I did but tie one fellow, who was taken red-handed and, in the fact, to the horns of a wild stag, which gored him to death in five minutes, and I had as many arrows shot at me as they were launched against yonder target at Ashby. "'Here, fellow,' he added to one of his attendants, "'Hast thou sent out to see by what force this precious challenge is to be supported?' "'There are at least two hundred men assembled in the woods,' answered a squire, who was in attendance.
"'Here is a proper matter,' said Front de Booth. "'This comes of lending you the use of my castle. They cannot manage your undertaking quietly, but you must bring this nest of hornets about my ears.' "'Of hornets?' said de Bracy. Of stingless drones, rather, a band of lazy knaves, who took to the wood and destroy the venison rather than labor for their maintenance. Stingless, replied Font de Boeuf. Four-headed shafts of a cloth yard in length, and these shot with the breadth of a French crown are sting enough. For shame, Sir Knight, said the Templar. Let us summon our people, and sally forth upon them. One night, aye. One man-at-arms were enough for twenty such peasants. Enough and too much, said de Bracy.
I should only be ashamed to couch Lance against them. True, answered Front de Booth. Were they black turks or moors, Sir Templer, or the craven peasants of France, most valiant de Bracy? But these are English yeomen, over whom we shall have no advantage, Save what we may derive from our arms and horses, which will avail us little in the glades of the forest. Sallie, saidst thou, we have scarce men enough to defend the castle. The best of mine are at York. So is all your brand, de Bracey, and we have scarcely twenty, besides the handful that were engaged in this mad business. "'Thou dost not fear,' said the Templar. But they can assemble in force sufficient to attempt the castle. "'Not so, Sir Bryan,' answered Frant de Boeuf.
"'These outlaws have indeed a daring captain, but without machines, scaling-ladders, and experienced leaders my castle may defy them.' "'Send to thy neighbors,' said the Templar. "'Let them assemble their people, and come to the rescue of three knights, besieged by a jester and swineherd, in the baronal castle of Reginald Front de Booth. "'You jest, sir knight,' answered the baron. "'But to whom should I send? "'Melvoisin is by this time at York with his retainers, "'and so are my other allies, "'and so should I have been, "'but for this infirmal enterprise.' "'Then send to York and recall our people,' said de Bracy. "'If they abide the shaking of my standard, Or the sight of my three companions.
I will give them credit for the boldest outlaw's ever bent bow in green wood. And who shall bear such a message? said Front de Booth. They will beset every path, and rip the errand out of his bosom. I have it, he added, after pausing for a moment. Sir Templer, thou canst write as well as read, and if we can find the writing materials of my chaplain. who died a twelvemonth since in the midst of his Christmas carousels. "'So please ye,' said the squire, who was still in attendance. "'I think old Erfright has them somewhere in keeping, for love of the confessor.' He was the last man I have heard her tell, who ever said aught to her which man ought to curtsy to address to maid or matron. "'Go search them out, Englered,' said Frant de Boeuf.
And then, Sir Templer, thou shalt return an answer to this bold challenge. "'I would rather do it at the sword's point than at that of the pen,' said Boyce Gilbert. "'But be as you will.' He sat down accordingly, and indicted in the French language an epistle of the following tenor. Sir Reginald Front de Booth, with his noble and knightly allies and confederates, Received no defiances at the hands of slaves, bondsmen, or fugitives. If the person calling himself the Black Knight have indeed a claim to the honors of surey, he ought to know that he stands degraded by his present association, and has no right to ask reckoning at the hands of good men of noble blood. Touching the prisoners we have made, We do in Christian charity require you to send a man of religion to receive their confession and reconcile them with God, since it is our fixed intention to execute them this morning before noon, so that their heads being placed on the battlements shall show to all men how lightly we esteem those who have bestirred themselves in their rescue.
Wherefore, as above, We require you to send a priest to reconcile them to God, in doing which you shall render them the last earthly service. This letter being folded was delivered to the squire, and by him to the messenger who waited without, as the answer to that which he had brought. The yeoman, having thus accomplished his mission, returned to the headquarters of the Allies, which were for the present established under a venerable oak tree, about three arrow flights distant from the castle. Here Womba and Gurth, with their allies the Black Knight and Loxley, and the jovial Hermit, awaited with impatience an answer to their summons. Around, at a distance from them, were seen many a bold yeoman, whose sylvan dress and weather-beaten countenances Showed the ordinary nature of their occupation.
More than two hundred had already assembled, and others were fast coming in. Those whom they obeyed as leaders were only distinguished from the others by a feather in the cap, their dress, arms, and equipments being in all other respects the same. Besides these bands a less orderly and worse armed force, consisting of the Saxon inhabitants of the neighboring township, as well as many bondsmen and servants from Cedric's extensive estate, had already arrived, for the purpose of assisting in his rescue. Few of these were armed otherwise than with such rustic weapons as necessity sometimes converts to military purposes. Boer spears, scythes, flails, and the like were their chief arms, for the Normans, with the usual policy of conquerors, were jealous of permitting to the vanquished Saxons the possession or the use of swords and spears.
Their circumstances rendered the assistance of the Saxons far from being so formidable to the besaged as the strength of the men themselves, their superior numbers, and the animation inspired by a just cause, Might otherwise well have made them. It was to the leaders of this motley army that the letter of the Templar was now delivered. Reference was at first made to the chaplain for an exposition of its contents. By the crook of St Dunstan, said that worthy ecclesiastic, which hath brought more sheep within the sheepfold than the crook of e'er another saint in paradise, I swear that I cannot expound into you this jargon, which, whether it be French or Arabic, is beyond my guess. He then gave the letter to Goethe, who shook his head gruffly, and passed it to Womba.
The jester looked at each of the four corners of the paper, with such a grin of affected intelligence as a monkey is to assume upon similar occasions, then cut a caper, and gave the letter to Loxley. If the long letters were bows and the short letters broad arrows, I might know something of the matter, said the brave yeoman, but as the matter stands, the meaning is as safe for me as a stag that's at twelve miles distance. I must be clerk, then, said the black knight, and taking the letter from Loxley, he first read it over to himself. and then explained the meaning in Saxon to his confederates. "'Execute the noble Cedric,' exclaimed Wamba. "'By the rood, thou must be mistaken, Sir Knight.' "'Not I, my worthy friend,' replied the knight.
"'I have explained the words as they are here set down.' "'Then by St. Thomas of Canterbury,' replied Girth. "'We shall have the castle, should we tear it down with our hands.' "'We have nothing else to tear it with,' replied Wamba, "'but mine are scarce fit to make mammicks of free stone and mortar.' "'Tis but a contrivance to gain time,' said Loxley. "'They dare not do a deed for which I could exact a fearful penalty.' "'I would,' said the black knight. "'There was some one among us who could obtain admission into the castle and discover how the case stands with the besaged.' Methinks, as they require a confessor to be sent, this holy hermit might at once exercise his pious vocation, and procure us the information we desire.
"'A plague on thee, and my advice,' said the pious hermit. "'I tell thee, Sir Slothful Knight, that when I doff my friar's frock, my priesthood, my sanctity, my very latin, are put off along with it, And when in my green jerkin, I can better kill 20 deer than confess one Christian. I fear, said the Black Knight. I fear greatly. There is no one here that is qualified to take upon him, for the nonce, this same character of father confessor. All looked on each other and were silent. I see, said Wamba, after a short pause, that the fool must be still the fool. and put his neck in the venture which wise men shrink from. You must know, my dear cousins and countrymen, that I wore russet before I wore motley, and was bred to be a friar until a brain fever came upon me and left me just wit enough to be a fool.
I trust with the existence of the good hermit's frock, together with the priesthood's sanctity, and learning which are stitched into the cowl of it, I shall be found qualified to administer both worldly and ghostly comfort to our worthy master, Cedric, and his companions in adversity. "'Have he sense enough, thinkest thou?' said the black knight, addressing Gurth. "'I know not,' said Gurth. "'But if he hath not, it will be the first time he hath wanted wit to turn his folly to account. "'On with the frock, then, good fellow.' Quoth the knight, and let thy master send us an account of their situation within the castle. Their numbers must be few, and it is five to one they may be accessible by a sudden and bold attack.
Time wears away with thee. And in the meantime, said Loxley, we will beset the place so closely, and not so much as a fly shall carry news from thence. "'So that, my good friend,' he continued, addressing Wamba, "'thou mayest assure these tyrants that whatever violence they exercise on the persons of their prisoners shall be more severely repaid upon their own.' "'Pa' Vobescombe,' said Wamba, who was now muffled in his religious disguise, and so saying, he imitated the solemn and stately deportment of a friar, and departed to execute his mission.
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26 26 - Chapter 26 19:24
The hottest horse will oft be cool.
The dullest will show fire. The friar will often play the fool. The fool will play the friar. Old song. When the jester arrayed in the cowl and frock of the hermit, and having his knotted cord twisted round his middle, stood before the portal of the castle of Front Dubuff, the warder demanded of him his name and errand. Par Vobuskin answered the jester. I am poor brother of the order of St. Francis, who come hither to do my office to certain unhappy prisoners now secured within this castle. "'Thou art a bold friar,' said the warder, "'to come hither, where, saving our own drunken confessor, a cock of thy feather have not crowed these twenty years. Yet I pray thee, do mine errand to the lord of the castle,' answered the pretended friar.
"'Trust me, It will find good acceptance with him, and the cock will crow that the whole castle shall hear him. "'Grimercy,' said the warder, "'but if I come to shame for leaving my post upon thine errand, "'I will try whether a friar's grey gown be proof against a grey-goose shaft.' With this threat he left his turret, and carried to the hall of the castle his unwonted intelligence, that a holy friar stood before the gate and demanded instant admission. With no small wonder he received his master's commands to admit the holy man immediately, and having previously manned the entrance to guard against surprise, he obeyed, without further scruple, the commands which he had received. The hare-brained self-conceit which had emboldened Wamba to undertake the dangerous office, was scarce sufficient to support him when he found himself in the presence of a man so dreadful, and so much dreaded, as Reginald Front de Boeuf, and he brought out his pa Bobescombe, to which he, in a good measure, trusted for supporting his character with more anxiety and hesitation than had hitherto accompanied it.
But Front de Boeuf was accustomed to see men of all ranks tremble in his presence, so that the timidity of the supposed father did not give him any cause of suspicion. "'Who and whence art thou, priest?' said he. "'Pa, Vobiscom,' reiterated the jester, "'I am a poor servant of St. Francis, "'who, travelling through this wilderness, have fallen among thieves.' As scripture have it, quidem viator incident in latrones. Which thieves have sent me unto this castle in order to do my ghostly office on two persons condemned by your Honorable Justice? Ah, right, answered Front de Booth. And canst thou tell me, holy father, the number of those banditti? Gallant, sir, answered the gesture. Nomen ill illugia.
Their name is Legion. Tell me in plain terms what numbers there are. Or, priest, thy cloak and cord will ill protect thee. Alas, said the supposed friar, Cormium erectify. That is to say, I was like to burst with fear. But I can see they may be. What of yeomen? What of commons? At least five hundred men. What? said the Templer, who came into the hall that moment. "'Muster the wasps, so thick here. It is time to stifle such a mischievous brood.' Then, taking Frant de Booth outside, knowest thou the priest?" "'He is a stranger from a distant convent,' said Frant de Booth. "'I know him not.' "'Then trust him not with thy purpose in words,' answered the Templer. Let him carry a written order to de Bracey's company of free companions, to repair instantly to their master's aid.
In the meantime, and that the Shavling may suspect nothing, permit him to go freely about his task of preparing these Saxon hogs for the slaughter house. It shall be so, said Front de Booth, and he forthwith appointed a domestic to conduct Wamba to the apartment where Cedric, and Elphelstane were confined. The impatience of Cedric had been rather enhanced than diminished by his confinement. He walked from one end of the hall to the other with the attitude of one who advances to charge an enemy, or to storm the breach of a beleaguered place, sometimes ejaculating to himself, sometimes addressing Elphelstane. who stoutly and stoyfully awaited the issue of the adventure, digesting in the meantime with great composure the liberal meal which he had made at noon, and not greatly interesting himself about the duration of his captivity, which he concluded would, like all earthly evils, find an end in heaven's good time.
Pavoboskum said the gesture, entering the apartment. The blessing of St Dunstan, St Denis, St Douthoc, and all other saints whatsoever, be upon ye and about ye. Enter freely, answered Cedric to the supposed friar. With what intent art thou come hither? To bid you prepare yourselves for death, answered the gesture. It is impossible, replied Cedric, starting. Fearless and wicked as they are, They dare not attempt such open and gratuitous cruelty. Alas, said the gesture, to restrain them by their sense of humanity is the same as to stop a runaway horse with a bridle of silk thread. Bethink thee, therefore, noble Cedric, and you also, gallant Athelstain, what crimes you have committed in the flesh.
For this very day will ye be called to answer at a higher tribunal. "'Hearest thou this, Athelstain?' said Cedric. "'We must rouse up our hearts to the last action, since better it is we should die like men than live like slaves.' "'I am ready,' answered Athelstain, "'to stand the worst of their malice, and shall walk to my death with as much composure as ever I did to my dinner.' "'Let us then unto our holy gear, father,' said Cedric. Wait yet a moment, good uncle," said the gesture, in his natural tone. "'Better look long before you leap in the dark.' "'By my faith,' said Cedric, "'I should know that voice.' "'It is that of your trusty slave and gesture,' answered Womba, throwing back his cow.
"'Had you taken a fool's advice formerly, you would not have been here at all. Take a fool's advice now.' and you will not be here long. "'How meanest thou, knave?' answered the Saxon. "'Even thus,' replied Wamba, "'take thou this frock and cord, which are all the orders I ever had, and march quietly out of the castle, leaving me your cloak and girdle to take the long leap in thy steed.' "'Leave thee in my steed,' said Cedric, astonished at the proposal. They would hang thee, my poor knave. "'And let do as they are permitted,' said Womba. "'I trust no disparagement to your birth, that the son of Witless may hang in a chain with as much gravity as the chain hung upon the ancestor, the alderman.' "'Well, Womba,' answered Cedric, "'for one thing I will grant thy request, and that is, If thou wilt make the exchange of garments with Lord Athelstain instead of me.
"'No, by St. Dunstan,' answered Womba. "'There were little reason in that. Good right there is that the son of Witless should suffer to save the son of Heerwood, but little wisdom there were in his dying for the benefit of one whose fathers were strangers to his.' "'Villain,' said Cedric, The fathers of Athelstain were monarchs of England. They might be whomsoever they pleased, replied Womba, but my neck stands too straight upon my shoulders to have it twisted for their sake. Wherefore, good my master, either take my proffer yourself, or suffer me to leave this dungeon as free as I entered. Let the old tree wither, continued Cedric. So the stately hope of the forest be preserved, save the noble Athelstain, my trusty Womba.
It is the duty of each who has Saxon blood in his veins. Thou and I will abide together the utmost rage of our injurious oppressors, while he, free and safe, shall arouse the awakened spirits of our countrymen to avenge us. "'Not so, Father Cedric,' said Athelstain, grasping his hand, for when roused to think or act, his deeds and sentiments were not unbecoming his high race. "'Not so,' he continued. "'I would rather remain in this hall a week without food save the prisoner's dinted loaf, or drink save the prisoner's measure of water, than embrace the opportunity to escape which the slave's untalk kindness has pervade for his master. "'You are called wise men, sirs,' said the gesture, "'an I a crazed fool.
"'But, uncle Cedric and cousin Athelstain, "'the fool shall decide this controversy for ye, "'and save ye the trouble of straining courtesies any farther. "'I am like John a duck's mare, That will let no man mount her but John a duck. I came to save my master, and if he will not consent, Buster, I can but go away home again. Kind service cannot be chucked from hand to hand like a shuttlecock or stool ball. I'll hang for no man but my own-born master. Go then, noble Cedric, said Attelstain. Neglect not this opportunity. Your presence without may encourage friends to our rescue. Your remaining here would ruin us all. "'And is there any prospect, then, of a rescue from without?' said Cedric, looking to the jester.
"'Prospect, indeed,' echoed Wamba. "'Let me tell you, when you feel my cloak, you are wrapped in a general's cassock. Five hundred men are there without, and I was this morning one of the chief leaders.' My fiel's cap was a cask, and my bauble a truncheon. Well, we shall see what good they will make by exchanging a fiel for a wise man. Truly, I fear, they will lose in bela what they may gain in discretion. And so farewell, master, and be kind to poor Girth and his dog-fangs, and let my coxcomb Hang in the hall at Rotherwood, in memory that I flung away my life for my master, like a faithful fool. The last word came out with a sort of double expression. Between jest and earnest, the tears stood in Cedric's eyes.
Thy memories shall be preserved, he said, while fidelity and affection have honor upon earth. But that I trust I shall find the means of saving Rowena, and thee, Athelstain, and thee also, my poor Wamba, thou shouldest not overbear me in this matter. The exchange of dress was now accomplished when a sudden doubt struck Cedric. I know no language, he said, but my own, and a few words of their mincing Norman. How shall I bear myself like a reverend brother? The spell lies in two words, replied Womba. Pa, Vobiscombe, will answer all queries. If you go or come, eat or drink, bless or ban. Pa, Vobiscombe, carries you through it all. It is as useful to a friar as a broomstick to a witch, or a wand to a conjurer.
Speak it, but thus, in a deep grave tone, Pa, Vobiscombe. It is irresistible. Watch and ward, knight and squire, foot and horse, it acts as charm upon them all. I think if they bring me out to be hanged tomorrow, as as much to be doubted they may, I will try its weight upon the finisher of the sentence. If such prove the case, said the master, my religious orders are soon taken. Pa. I trust I shall remember the past word. Noble Athelstan, farewell, and farewell, my poor boy, whose heart might make amends for a week ahead. I will save you, or return and die with you. The royal blood of our Saxon kings shall not be spilt, while mine beats in my veins. Nor shall one hair fall from the head of the kind knave who risked himself for his master, If Cedric's peril can prevent it, farewell.
Farewell, noble Cedric, said Athelstain. Remember, it is the true part of a friar to accept refreshment, if you are offered any. Farewell, uncle, added Womba, and remember, Pa. Thus exhorted, Cedric sallied forth upon his expedition, and it was not long ere he had occasion to try the force of that spell, which his jester had recommended as omnipotent, in a low-arched and dusky passage, by which he endeavored to work his way to the hall of the castle. He was interrupted by a female form. "'Pa' vobiscom,' said the Swadha friar, and was endeavoring to hurry past, when a soft voice replied, "'Avobe, quazzo?' Domine, Reverend Ismy, Pro Musicordia Vestra. "'I am somewhat deaf,' replied Cedric, in good Saxon, and at the same time muttered to himself, "'A curse on the fool and his par Vobiscombe.
I have lost my javelin at the first cast.' It was, however, no unusual thing for a priest of those days to be deaf of his Latin ear, and this the person who now addressed Cedric knew full well. "'I pray you of dear love, reverend father,' she replied in his own language, "'that you will deign to visit with your ghostly comfort a wounded prisoner of this castle, and have such compassion upon him and us as thy holy office teaches. Never shall good deed so highly advantage thy convent.' "'Daughter,' answered Cedric, much embarrassed, My time in this castle will not permit me to exercise the duties of mine office. I must presently force. There is life and death upon my speed. Yet, father, let me entreat you by the vow you have taken on you, replied the suppliant, not to leave the oppressed and endangered without counsel or succor.
May the fiend fly away with me. "'And leave me in Ifran with the souls of Odin and of Thor,' answered Cedric impatiently, and would probably have proceeded in the same tone of total departure from his spiritual character, when the colloquy was interrupted by the harsh voice of Euphride, the old crone of the turret. "'How minion?' said she to the female speaker. Is this the manner in which you requite the kindness which permitted thee to leave thy prison cell yonder? Partest thou, thy reverend man, to use ungracious language to free himself from the importunities of adieus? Adieus, said Cedric, availing himself of the information to get clear of their interruption. Let me pass, woman. Stop me, not at your peril.
I am fresh from my holy office. and would avoid pollution. "'Come this way, father,' said the old hag. "'Thou art a stranger in this castle, and canst not leave it without a guide. Come hither, for I would speak with thee.' "'And you, daughter of an accursed race, go to the sick man's chamber, and tend him until my return, and woe betide you if you again quit it without my permission.' Rebekah retreated. Her importunities had prevailed upon Euphrite to suffer her to quit the turret, and Euphrite had employed her services where she herself would most gladly have paid them, by the bedside of the wounded Ivanhoe. With an understanding awake to their dangerous situation, and prompt to avail herself of each means of safety which occurred, Rebekah had hoped something from the presence of a man of religion who, she learned from Euphraide, had penetrated into this godless castle.
She watched the return of the supposed ecclesiastic with the purpose of addressing him, and interesting him in favor of the prisoners with what imperfect success the reader has been just acquainted.
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27 27 - Chapter 27 47:15
XXVII.
FOND WRETCH!
And what canst thou relate but deeds of sorrow, shame, and sin? Thy deeds are proved, thou knowest thy fate. But come, thy tale, begin, begin. But I have griefs of other kind, troubles and sorrows more severe. Give me to ease my tortured mind, lend to my woes a patient ear. And let me, if I may not find a friend to help, find one to hear. Crabbe's Hall of Justice.
When Erfried had with clamours and menaces driven Rebecca back to the apartment from which she had sallied, she proceeded to conduct the unwilling Cedric into a small apartment, the door of which she heedfully secured. Then, fetching from a cupboard a stoop of wine and two flagons, she placed them on the table, and said in a tone rather asserting a fact than asking a question, "'Thou art Saxon, father. Deny it not.' She continued, observing that Cedric hastened not to reply. "'The sounds of my native language are sweet to mine ears, though seldom heard, save from the tongues of the wretched and degraded serfs on whom the proud Normans impose the meanest drudgery of this dwelling. "'Thou art a Saxon, father—a Saxon, and, save as thou art a servant of God, a free man.' Thine accents are sweet in mine ear.
"'Do not Saxon priests visit this castle, then?' replied Cedric. "'It were methinks their duty to comfort the outcast and oppressed children of the soil.' "'They come not. Or if they come, they better love to revel at the boards of their conquerors,' answered Erfried, "'than to hear the groans of their countrymen. So at least report speaks of them.' Of myself I can say little. This castle for ten years has opened to no priest save the debauched Norman chaplain who partook the knightly revels of front of Boeuf, and he has been long gone to render an account of his stewardship. But thou art a Saxon, a Saxon priest, and I have one question to ask of thee. "'I am a Saxon,' answered Cedric. but unworthy surely of the name of priest.
Let me be gone on my way. I swear I will return, or send one of our fathers more worthy to hear your confession. Stay yet a while, said Erfried. The accents of the voice which thou hearest now will soon be choked with the cold earth, and I would not descend to it like the beast I have lived. But wine must give me strength to tell the horrors of my tale. She poured out a cup, and drank it with a frightful avidity which seemed desirous of draining the last drop in the goblet. It stupefies, she said, looking upwards as she finished her draught. But it cannot cheer. Partake it, father, if you would hear my tale without sinking down upon the pavement.
Cedric would have avoided pledging her in this ominous conviviality. But the sign which she made to him expressed impatience and despair. He complied with her request, and answered her challenge in a large wine-cup. She then proceeded with her story, as if appeased by his complacence. "'I was not born,' she said, "'father, the wretch that thou now seest me. I was free, was happy, was honoured, loved, and was beloved.' I am now a slave, miserable and degraded, the sport of my master's passions while I had yet beauty, the object of their contempt, scorn, and hatred since it has passed away. Dost thou wonder, father, that I should hate mankind, and above all the race that has wrought this change in me?
Can the wrinkled, decrepit hag before thee, whose wrath must vent itself in impotent curses, Forget she was once the daughter of the noble Thane of Torquillstone, before whose frown a thousand vassals trembled. "'Thou, the daughter of Torquill Wolfganger,' said Cedric, receding as he spoke, "'thou—thou—the daughter of that noble Saxon—my father's friend and companion-in-arms.' "'Thy father's friend,' echoed Then Cedric called the Saxon stands before me, for the noble heriard of Rotherwood had but one son, whose name is well known among his countrymen. But if thou art Cedric of Rotherwood, why this religious dress? Hast thou too despaired of saving thy country, and sought refuge from oppression in the shade of the convent?
It matters not who I am, said Cedric. Proceed, unhappy woman, with thy tale of horror and guilt. Guilt there must be. There is guilt even in thy living to tell it. There is—there is, answered the wretched woman, deep, black, damning guilt—guilt that lies like a load at my breast—guilt that all the penitential fires of hereafter cannot cleanse. Yes, in these halls— Stained with the noble and pure blood of my father and my brethren. In these very halls to have lived the paramour of their murderer, the slave at once and the partaker of his pleasures, was to render every breath which I drew of vital air a crime and a curse.
Wretched woman! exclaimed Cedric. And while the friends of thy father, while each true saxon heart, as it breathed the requiem for his soul and those of his valiant sons, forgot not in their prayers the murdered Ulrica. While all mourned and honored the dead, thou hast lived to merit our hate and execration. Live to unite thyself with the vile tyrant who murdered thy nearest and dearest, who shed the blood of infancy rather than a male of the noble house of Torquil Wolfganger should survive. With him hast thou lived to unite thyself, and in the hands of lawless love. In lawless hands, indeed, but not in those of love, answered the hag. Love will sooner visit the regions of eternal doom than those unhallowed vaults.
No, with that at least I cannot reproach myself. Hatred to Frondeboeuf and his race governed my soul most deeply, even in the hour of his guilty endearments. "'You hated him, and yet you lived,' replied Cedric. "'Wretch! Was there no poniard, no knife, no bodkin?' Well was it for thee, since thou didst prize such an existence, that the secrets of a Norman castle are like those of a grave. For had I but dreamed of the daughter of Torquil living in foul communion with the murderer of her father, the sword of a true Saxon had found thee out even in the arms of thy paramour. Wouldst thou indeed have done this justice to the name of Torquil, said Ulrica, For we may now lay aside our assumed name of Uffrid.
Thou art then the true Saxon report speaks thee. For even within these accursed walls, where, as thou well sayest, guilt shrouds itself in inscrutable mystery, even there has the name of Cedric been sounded. And I, wretched and degraded, have rejoiced to think that there yet breathed an avenger of our unhappy nation. I also have had my hours of vengeance. I have fomented the quarrels of our foes, and heated drunken revelry into murderous broil. I have seen their blood flow. I have heard their dying groans. Look on me, Cedric. Are there not still left on this foul and faded face some traces of the features of Torquil? Ask me not of them, Ulrika, replied Cedric. In a tone of grief mixed with abhorrence.
These traces form such a resemblance as arises from the graves of the dead when a fiend has animated the lifeless corpse. Be it so, answered Ulrike, yet wore these fiendish features the mask of a spirit of light, when they were able to set at variance the elder from the birth and his son, Reginald. The darkness of hell should hide what followed. But revenge must lift the veil, and darkly intimate what it would raise the dead to speak aloud. Long had the smouldering fire of discord glowed between the tyrant father and his savage son. Long had I nursed in secret the unnatural hatred. It blazed forth in an hour of drunken wassail, and at his own board fell my oppressor by the hand of his own son.
Such other secrets these vaults conceal. Rend asunder ye accursed arches, she added, looking up towards the roof, and bury in your fall all who are conscious of the hideous mystery.
And thou, creature of guilt and misery, said Cedric, what became thy lot on the death of thy ravisher? Guess it, but ask it not. Here, here I dwelt, till age, premature age, has stamped its ghastly features on my countenance, scorned and insulted where I was once obeyed, and compelled to bound the revenge which had once such ample scope to the efforts of petty malice of a discontented menial, or the vain and unheeded curses of an impotent hag. Condemned to hear from my lonely turret the sounds of revelry in which I once partook, or the shrieks and groans of new victims of oppression. Ulrike, said Cedric, with a heart which still, I fear, regrets the lost reward of thy crimes, as much as the deeds by which thou didst acquire that meed, how didst thou dare to address thee to one who wears this robe?
Consider, unhappy woman, what could the sainted Edward himself do for thee were he here in bodily presence? The royal confessor was endowed by heaven with power to cleanse the ulcers of the body, but only God himself can cure the leprosy of the soul. Yet turn not from me, stern prophet of wrath, she exclaimed, but tell me if thou canst. In what shall terminate these new and awful feelings that burst on my solitude? Why do deeds, long since done, rise before me in new and irresistible horrors? What fate is prepared beyond the grave for her to whom God has assigned on earth a lot of such unspeakable wretchedness? Better had I turned to Woden, Hertha, and Zernebock, to Misther and to Skogula, the gods of our yet unbaptized ancestors, than endure the dreadful anticipations which have of late haunted my waking and my sleeping hours.
I am no priest, said Cedric, turning with disgust from this miserable picture of guilt, wretchedness, and despair. I am no priest, though I wear a priest's garment. Priest or layman, answered Ulrike, thou art the first I have seen for twenty years by whom God was feared or man regarded. And dost thou bid me despair? I bid thee repent, said Cedric. Seek to prayer and penance, and mayst thou find acceptance. But I cannot, I will not, longer abide with thee. Stay yet a moment, said Ulrike. Leave me not now, son of my father's friend, lest the demon who has governed my life should tempt me to avenge myself of thy hard-hearted scorn. Thinkest thou, if Frant de Boeuf found Cedric the Saxon in his castle in such a disguise, that thy life would be a long one?
Already his eye has been upon thee like a falcon on his prey. And be it so. said Cedric, and let him tear me with beak and talons, ere my tongue say one word which my heart doth not warrant. I will die a Saxon, true in word, open in deed. I bid thee avaunt. Touch me not, stay me not. The sight of Frontebueuf himself is less odious to me than thou, degraded and degenerate as thou art. Be it so, said Ulrike, no longer interrupting him. Go thy way. And forget, in the insolence of thy superiority, that the wretch before thee is the daughter of thy father's friend. Go thy way. If I am separated from mankind by my sufferings, separated from those whose aid I might most justly expect, not less will I be separated from them in my revenge.
No man shall aid me. But the ears of all men shall tingle to hear of the deed which I shall dare to do. Farewell. Thy scorn has burst the last tie which seemed yet to unite me to my kind, a thought that my woes might claim the compassion of my people.
Ulrika, said Cedric, softened by this appeal. Hast thou borne up and endured to live through so much guilt and so much misery? And wilt thou now yield to despair, when thine eyes are opened to thy crimes, and when repentance were thy fitter occupation?
Cedric, answered Ulrike, thou little knowest the human heart. To act as I have acted, to think as I have thought, Requires the maddening love of pleasure, mingled with the keen appetite of revenge, the proud consciousness of power. Drafts too intoxicating for the human heart to bear, and yet retain the power to prevent. Their force has long passed away. Age has no pleasures. Wrinkles have no influence. Revenge itself dies away in impotent curses. Then comes remorse with all its vipers, mixed with vain regrets for the past and despair for the future. Then, when all other strong impulses have ceased, we become like the fiends in hell, who may feel remorse, but never repentance. But thy words have awakened a new soul within me.
Well hast thou said, All is possible for those who dare to die. Thou hast shown me the means of revenge, and be assured I will embrace them. It has hitherto shared this wasted bosom with other and with rival passions. Henceforward it shall possess me wholly, and thou thyself shalt say that, whatever was the life of Ulrika, her death well became the daughter of the noble Torquil. There is a force without beleaguering this accursed castle. Hasten to lead them to the attack, and when thou shalt see a red flag wave from the turret on the eastern angle of the donjon, press the normans hard. They will then have enough to do within, and you may win the wall in spite both of Beaux and Mangonelle. Begone, I pray thee, follow thine own fate, and leave me to mine.
Cedric would have enquired farther into the purpose which she thus darkly announced. But the stern voice of Frondeboeuf was heard, exclaiming, "'Where tarries this loitering priest? By the scallop-shell of Compostela I will make a martyr of him if he loiters here to hatch treason among my domestics.' "'What a true prophet,' said Ulrike, "'is an evil conscience.' "'But heed him not, out unto thy people.' Cry your saxon onslaught, and let them sing their war-song of rollo if they will. Vengeance shall bear a burden to it. As she thus spake, she vanished to a private door, and Reginald Frondeboeuf entered the apartment. Cedric, with some difficulty, compelled himself to make obeisance to the haughty baron, who returned his courtesy with a slight inclination of the head.
Thy penitence, father, have made a long shrift. It is the better for them, since it is the last they shall ever make. Hast thou prepared them for death? I found them, said Cedric, in such French as he could command, expecting the worst from the moment they knew into whose power they had fallen. "'How now, Sir Friar,' replied Franderboeuf, "'thy speech, methinks, smacks of a Saxon tongue.' "'I was bred in the convent of St. Wythold of Burton,' answered Cedric. "'Ay,' said the baron, "'it had been better for thee to have been a Norman, "'and better for my purpose, too. "'But need has no choice of messengers. "'That St. Wythold of Burton "'is an owlet's nest worth the harrying. "'The day will soon come that the frocks "'shall protect the saxon as little as the mail-coat.' God's will be done, said Cedric, in a voice tremulous with passion, which Fronteboeuf imputed to fear.
I see, said he, that thou dreamest already that our men-at-arms are in thy refectory and thy ale-vaults. But do me one cast of thy holy office, and come what list of others, thou shalt sleep as safe in thy cell as a snail within his shell of proof. Speak your commands, said Cedric, with suppressed emotion. Follow me through this passage, then, that I may dismiss thee by the postern. And as he strode on his way before the supposed friar, Frondeboeuf thus schooled him in the part which he desired he should act. Thou seest, sir Friar, yon herd of Saxon swine, who have dared to environ this castle of Torkelstone. Tell them, whatever thou hast a mind, of the weakness of this fortalice, or ordell's that can detain them before it for twenty-four hours.
Meantime, bear thou this scroll, but soft, canst read, Sir Priest. "'Not a jot, aye,' answered Cedric, save on my breviary. And then I know the characters, because I have the holy service by heart. Praised be Our Lady and St. Withold.' The fitter messenger for my purpose. Come, carry thou this scroll to the castle of Philippe du Malvoisin. Say it cometh from me, and is written by the Templar Brian de Bois-Gilbert, and that I pray him to send it to York with all the speed man and horse can make. Meanwhile tell him to doubt nothing, he shall find us whole and sound behind our battlement. Shame on it that we should be compelled to hide thus by a pack of runagates, who are wont to fly even at the flash of our pennons and the tramp of our horses.
I say to thee, priest, contrive some cast of thine art to keep the knaves where they are, till our friends bring up their lances. My vengeance is awake, and she is a falcon that slumbers not till she has been gorged. "'By my patron saint,' said Cedric, with deeper energy than became his character, "'and by every saint who has lived and died in England, your commands shall be obeyed. Not a Saxon shall stir from before these walls, if I have art and influence to detain them there.' "'Ah,' said Frondeboe, "'thou changest thy tone, sir priest, and speakest brief and bold, as if thy heart were in the slaughter of the Saxon herd.' And yet thou art thyself of kindred to the swine. Cedric was no ready practicer of the art of dissimulation, and would at this moment have been much the better of a hint from Wamba's more fertile brain.
But necessity, according to the ancient proverb, sharpens the invention. And he muttered something under his cowl, concerning the men in question being excommunicated outlaws both to church and to kingdom. "'Despardieu,' answered Frondeboeuf, "'thou hast spoken the very truth. I forgot that the knaves can strip a fat abbot as well as if they had been born south of yonder salt channel.' Was it not he of St. Ives, whom they tied to an oak-tree and compelled to sing a mass while they were rifling his mails and his wallets? No, by Our Lady, that jest was played by Gaultier of Middleton, one of our own companions-at-arms. But they were Saxons who robbed the chapel of St. B's of cup, candlestick, and chalice, were they not?
They were godless men, answered Cedric. Aye, and they drank out all the good wine and ale that lay in store for many a secret carousal, when ye pretend ye are but busied with vigils and primes. Priest, thou art bound to revenge such sacrilege. I am indeed bound to vengeance, murmured Cedric. St. Wythold knows my heart. Fronte Boeuf, in the meanwhile, led the way to the Postern, where, passing the moat on a single plank, they reached a small barbican or exterior defence, which communicated with the open field by a well-fortified sally-port. Begone, then. And if thou wilt do mine errand, and if thou return hither when it is done, Thou shalt see Saxon flesh cheap as ever was Hoggs in the shambles of Sheffield.
And hark thee, thou seemest to be a jolly confessor. Come hither after the onslaught, and thou shalt have as much malvoisie as would drench thy whole convent. Assuredly we shall meet again, answered Cedric. Something in hand the whilst, continued the Norman, and as they parted at the postern door, He thrust into Cedric's reluctant hand a gold byzant, adding, "'Remember, I will flay off both cowl and skin if thou failest in thy purpose.' "'And full leave will I give thee to do both,' answered Cedric, leaving the postern, and striding forth over the free field with a joyful step, if, when we meet next, I deserve not better at thine hand.' Turning then back towards the castle, he threw the piece of gold towards the donor, exclaiming at the same time, "'False Norman, thy money perish with thee!' Fronteperf heard the words imperfectly, but the action was suspicious.
"'Archers,' he called to the warders on the outward battlements, "'send me an arrow through yon monk's frock. Yet stay!' He said, as his retainers were bending their bows. It avails not. We must thus far trust him, since we have no better shift. I think he dares not betray me. At the worst, I can but treat with these Saxon dogs whom I have safe in kennel. Oh! Giles, jailer, let them bring Cedric of Rotherwood before me, and the other Churl his companion, him I mean of Koningsborough, Athelstain there, or what call they him? Their very names are an encumbrance to a Norman knight's mouth, and have, as it were, a flavour of bacon. Give me a stoop of wine, as jolly Prince John said, that I may wash away the relish.
Place it in the armory, and dither lead the prisoners. His commands were obeyed, and upon entering the Gothic apartment, hung with many spoils won by his own valour and that of his father, he found a flagon of wine on the massive oaken table, and the two Saxon captives under the guard of four of his dependents. Frondeboeuf took a long draught of wine, and then addressed his prisoners. For the manner in which Wamba drew the cap over his face, the change of dress, the gloomy and broken light, and the Baron's imperfect acquaintance with the features of Cedric, who avoided his Norman neighbours and seldom stirred beyond his own domains, prevented him from discovering that the most important of his captives had made his escape.
"'Gallants of England,' said Fondebeth, "'how relish ye your entertainment at Torquilstone!' Are ye yet aware what your circudie and utresidence merit for scoffing at the entertainment of a prince of the house of Anjou? Have ye forgotten how ye requited the unmerited hospitality of the royal John? By God and St. Denis, and ye pay not the richer ransom. I will hang ye up by the feet from the iron bars of these windows till the kites and hooded crows have made skeletons of you. Speak out, you Saxon dogs. What bid ye for your worthless lives? How say you, you of Rotherwood? Not a doigt, aye, answered poor Wamba. And for hanging up by the feet, my brain has been topsy-turvy, they say, ever since the biggin was bound first round my head, so turning me upside down may per adventure restore it again.
Saint Genevieve, said Front of Earth. What have we got here? And with the back of his hand he struck Cedric's cap from the head of the jester, and throwing open his collar, discovered the fatal badge of servitude, the silver collar round his neck. "'Giles! Clement! Dogs and varlets!' exclaimed the furious Norman. "'What have you brought me here?' "'I think I can tell you,' said de Bracy, who just entered the apartment. "'This is Cedric's clown.' who fought so manful a skirmish with Isaac of York about a question of precedence. "'I shall settle it for them both,' replied Fr. de Boeuf. "'They shall hang on the same gallows. Unless his master and this boar of Konigsberg will pay well for their lives.
Their wealth is the least they can surrender. They must also carry off with them the swarms that are besetting the castle.' Subscribe a surrender of their pretended immunities, and live under us as serfs and vassals, too happy if, in the new world that is about to begin, we leave them the breath of their nostrils. "'Go,' said he to two of his attendants. "'Fetch me the right, Cedric, hither, and I pardon your error for once, the rather that you but mistook a fool for a Saxon Franklin.' "'Aye, but,' said Wamba, "'your chivalrous excellency will find there are more fools than Franklin's among us.' "'What means the knave?' said Franderboe, looking towards his followers, who, lingering and loath, faltered forth their belief that, if this were not Cedric who was there in their presence, they knew not what was become of him.' Saints of heaven, exclaimed de Bracy.
He must have escaped in the monks' garments. Fiends of hell, echoed Frandeboe. It was then the boor of Rotherwood whom I ushered to the postern, and dismissed with my own hands. And thou, he said to Wamba, whose folly could overreach the wisdom of idiots yet more gross than thyself, I will give thee holy orders, I will shave thy crown for thee. Here, let them tear the scalp from his head, and then pitch him headlong from the battlements. Thy trade is to jest. Canst thou jest now? You deal with me better than your word, noble knight, whimpered forth poor Wamba, whose habits of buffoonery were not to be overcome even by the immediate prospect of death. If you give me the red cap you propose, out of a simple monk you will make a cardinal.
The poor wretch, said de Bracy, is resolved to die in his vocation. Frondeboeuf, you shall not slay him. Give him to me to make sport for my free companions. How sayest thou, knave? Willst thou take heart of grace and go to the wars with me? Aye, with my master's leave, said Wamba, for, look you, I must not slip collar, and he touched that which he wore, without his permission. Oh, and Norman's saw will soon cut a Saxon collar, said de Bracy. Aye, noble sir, said Wamba, and thence goes the proverb. Norman's saw on English oak, on English neck a Norman yoke, Norman's spoon in English dish, and England ruled as Norman's wish. Blithe world to England never will be more till England's rid of all the four.
"'Thou dost well, de Bracy,' said Frondeboeuf, "'to stand there listening to a fool's jargon when destruction is gaping for us. Seest thou not we are overreached, and that our proposed mode of communicating with our friends without has been disconcerted by this same motley gentleman thou art so fond to brother? What views have we to expect but instant storm?' "'To the battlements, then,' said de Bracy. When didst thou ever see me the graver for the thoughts of battle? Call the Templar yonder, call the Templar yonder, and let him fight but half so well for his life as he hath done for his order. Make that of the walls thyself with thy huge body. Let me do my poor endeavor in my own way. And I tell thee the Saxon outlaws may as well attempt to scale the clouds as the castle of Torquillstone.
Or, if you will treat with the banditti, why not employ the mediation of this worthy Franklin, who seems in such deep contemplation of the wine-flagon? Here, Saxon, he continued, addressing Athelstane, and handing the cup to him. Rinse thy throat with that noble liquor, and rouse up thy soul to say what thou wilt do for thy liberty. What a man of mould may! answered Athelstane. Providing it be what a man of manhood ought. Dismiss me free with my companions, and I will pay a ransom of a thousand marks. And wilt moreover assure us the retreat of that scum of mankind who are swarming round the castle, contrary to God's peace and the King's?" said Fronderboerf. "'In so far as I can,' answered Athelstain, "'I will withdraw them.' And I fear not but that my father Cedric will do his best to assist me.
We are agreed, then, said Rondebueuf. Thou and they are to be set at freedom, and peace is to be on both sides for payment of a thousand marks. It is a trifling ransom, Saxon, and thou wilt owe gratitude to the moderation which accepts of it in exchange of your persons. But, Mark, this extends not to the Jew Isaac. "'Nor to the Jew Isaac's daughter,' said the Templer, who had now joined them. "'Neither,' said Fronteberth, "'belong to this Saxon's company.' "'I were unworthy to be called Christian if they did,' replied Athelstain. "'Deal with the unbelievers as ye list.' "'Neither does the ransom include the Lady Rowena,' said de Bracy. "'It shall never be said I was scared out of a fair prize without striking a blow for it.' Neither," said Rondeboeuf, does our treaty refer to this wretched jester, whom I retain, that I may make him an example to every knave who turns jest into earnest.
"'The Lady Rowena,' answered Athelstaine, with the most steady countenance, "'is my affianced bride. I will be drawn by wild horses before I consent to part with her. The slave Wamba has this day saved the life of my father Cedric.' I will lose mine ere a hair of his head be injured. "'Thy affianced bride, the late Eruina, the affianced bride of a vassal like thee,' said de Bracy. "'Saxon, thou dreamest that the days of thy seven kingdoms are returned again. I tell thee, the princes of the house of Anjou confer not their wards on men of such lineage as thine.' "'My lineage, proud Norman,' replied Athelstain. is drawn from a source more pure and ancient than that of a beggarly Frenchman, whose living is won by selling the blood of the thieves whom he assembles under his paltry standard.
Kings were my ancestors, strong in war and wise in council, who every day feasted in their hall more hundreds than thou canst number individual followers. Whose names have been sung by minstrels, and their laws recorded in Wittenegermotes, whose bones were interred amid the prayers of saints, and over whose tombs minsters have been builded. "'Thou hast it, de Bracy,' said Franderboeuf, well pleased with the rebuff which his companion had received. The Saxon hath hit thee fairly.' As fairly as a captive can strike, said de Bracy, with apparent carelessness, for he whose hands are tied should have his tongue at freedom. But thy glibness of reply, comrade, rejoined he, speaking to Athelstain, will not win the freedom of the Lady Rowena.
To this, Athelstain, who had already made a longer speech than was his custom to do on any topic, however interesting, returned no answer. The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a menial, who announced that a monk demanded admittance at the postern gate. "'In the name of St. Bennet, the prince of these bull-beggars,' said Fronteboeuf, "'have we a real monk this time, or another impostor?' "'Search him, slaves. For I ne'e suffer a second impostor to be palmed upon you. I will have your eyes torn out and hot coals put into the sockets.' Let me endure the extremity of your anger, my lord," said Giles, if this be not a real shaveling. Your squire Jocelyn knows him well, and will vouch him to be Brother Ambrose, a monk in attendance upon the prior of Gervaux.
Admit him, said Fontebueuf. Most likely he brings us news from his jovial master. Surely the devil keeps holiday, and the priests are relieved from duty that they are strolling thus wildly through the country. Remove these prisoners. And, Saxon, think on what thou hast heard. I claim," said Athelstane, an honorable imprisonment, with due care of my board and of my couch, as becomes my rank, and as is due to one who is in treaty for ransom. Moreover, I hold him that deems himself the best of you bound to answer to me with his body for this aggression on my freedom. This defiance hath already been sent to thee. By thy sewer, thou underliest it, and art bound to answer me. There lies my glove. "'I answer not the challenge of my prisoner,' said Fonderboeuf, "'nor shalt thou, Maurice de Bracy.
"'Giles,' he continued, "'hang the Franklin's glove upon the tine of yonder branched antlers. "'There shall it remain until he is a free man. "'Should he then presume to demand it?' or to affirm he was unlawfully made my prisoner, by the belt of St. Christopher he will speak to one who hath never refused to meet a foe on foot or on horseback, alone or with his vassals at his back. The Saxon prisoners were accordingly removed, just as they introduced the monk Ambrose, who appeared to be in great perturbation. This is the real dais for Biscombe. said Wamba, as he passed the reverend brother. The others were but counterfeits. Holy Mother, said the monk, as he addressed the assembled knights, I am at last safe and in Christian keeping.
Safe thou art, replied de Bracy. And for Christianity, here is the stout baron, Reginald Franderboeuf, whose utter abomination is a Jew, and the good knight Templar, Brian de Bois-Gilbert, whose trade is to slay Saracens. If these are not good marks of Christianity, I know no other which they bear about them. "'Ye are friends and allies of our reverend father in God, Eimer, Prior of Gervaux,' said the monk, without noticing the tone of de Bracy's reply. Ye owe him aid, both by knightly faith and holy charity. For what saith the blessed St. Augustine, in his treatise de Civitate Dei? What saith the devil? interrupted Frondeboeuf. Or rather, what dost thou say, Sir Priest? We have little time to hear text from the Holy Fathers.
Sancta Maria, ejaculated Father Ambrose. How prompt to ire are these unhallowed laymen! But be it known to you, brave knights, that certain murderous caitiffs, casting behind them fear of God, and reverence of his church, and not regarding the bull of the holy sea, siquis suadende diabolo, brother priest, said the Templer, all this we know or guess at. Tell us plainly, is thy master the primate prisoner, and to whom? Surely, said Ambrose, he is in the hands of the men of Belial, infestors of these woods, and contemners of the holy text, touch not mine anointed, and do my profits naught of evil. Here is a new argument for our swords, sirs, said Fronderberth, turning to his companions, and so, instead of reaching us any assistance, the prior of Gervaux requests aid at our hands.
A man is well helped of these lazy churchmen when he hath most to do. But speak out, priest, and say at once, what does thy master expect from us? So please you, said Ambrose, violent hands having been imposed on my reverend superior, Contrary to the holy ordinance which I did already quote, and the men of Belial, having rifled his mails and budgets, and stripped him of two hundred marks of pure refined gold, they do yet demand of him a large sum beside, ere they will suffer him to depart from their uncircumcised hands. Wherefore the reverend Father in God praise you as his dear friends, to rescue him, either by paying down the ransom at which they hold him, Or, by force of arms, at your best discretion.
"'The foul fiend quelled the prior,' said Frondeboeuf. "'His morning's draught has been a deep one.' "'When did thy master hear of a Norman baron unbuckling his purse to relieve a churchman, whose bags are ten times as weighty as ours?' And how can we do aught by valour to free him, that are cooped up here by ten times our number, and expect an assault every moment? And that was what I was about to tell you, said the monk, had your hastenness allowed me time. But, God help me, I am old, and these foul onslaughts distract an aged man's brain. Nevertheless, it is of verity that they assemble a camp, and raise a bank against the walls of this castle. "'To the battlements!' cried de Bracy. "'And let us mark what these knaves do without.' And so saying, he opened a latticed window, which led to a sort of partisan, or projecting balcony, and immediately called from thence to those in the apartment.
St. Denis, but the old monk has brought true tidings. They bring forward mantelates and pervices, and the archers muster on the skirts of the wood like a dark cloud before a hailstorm. Reginald Trondeboeuf also looked out upon the field, and immediately snatched his bugle, and after winding a long and loud blast commanded his men to their posts on the walls. De Bracy, look to the eastern side where the walls are lowest. Noble Bois-Gilbert, thy trade has well taught thee how to attack and defend. Look thou to the western side. I myself will take post at the Barbican. Yet do not confine your exertions to any one spot, noble friends. We must this day be everywhere and multiply ourselves, were it possible, so as to carry by our presence succour and relief wherever the attack is hottest.
Our numbers are few, but activity and courage may supply that defect, since we have only to do with rascal clowns. "'But, noble knights,' exclaimed Father Ambrose, amidst the bustle and confusion occasioned by the preparations for defence, "'will none of you hear the message of the reverend father in God, Amor, prior of Gervaux? I beseech thee to hear me, noble Sir Reginald. Go, patter thy petitions to heaven.' said the fierce Norman, for we on earth have no time to listen to thee. Oh, there, Anselm, see that seething pitch and oil are ready to pour on the heads of these audacious traitors. Looks as the crossbowmen lack not bolts. Fling abroad my banner with the old bull's head. The knaves shall soon find with whom they have to do this day.
But, noble sir, continued the monk, persevering in his endeavours to draw attention, Consider my vow of obedience, and let me discharge myself of my superior's errand. Away with this prating dotard, said von de Boeuf. Log him up in the chapel to tell his beads till the broil be over. It will be a new thing to the saints in Torquillstone to hear Aves and Partes. They have not been so honoured, I trow, since they were cut out of stone. Blaspheme not the holy saints, Sir Reginald, said de Bracy. We shall have need of their aid to-day before yon rascal rout disband. I expect little aid from their hand, said Fonteboeuf, unless we were to hurl them from the battlements on the heads of the villains.
There is a huge lumbering St. Christopher yonder, sufficient to bear a whole company to the earth. The Templar had in the meantime been looking out on the proceedings of the besiegers with rather more attention than the brutal Frondebeuf for his giddy companion. By the faith of mine order, he said, these men approach with more touch of discipline than could have been judged, however they come by it. See how dexterously they avail themselves of every cover which a tree or bush affords, and shun exposing themselves to the shot of our crossbows. I spy neither bannon nor pennon among them, and yet will I gauge my golden chain that they are led on by some noble knight or gentleman skilful in the practice of wars.
I espy him," said de Bracy. I see the waving of a knight's crest in the gleam of his armour. See yon tall man in the black veil who is busy marshalling the farther troop of the rascale yeoman. By St. Denis, I hold him to be the same whom we called Lenoir Fainon, who overthrew thee, Frondeboerth, in the list at Ashby. So much the better, said Frondeboerth, that he comes here to give me my revenge. Some hilding fellow he must be, who dared not stay to assert his claim to the tourney prize which chance had assigned him. I should in vain have sought for him where knights and nobles seek their foes. And right glad am I he hath here shown himself among yon villain yeomanry. The demonstrations of the enemy's immediate approach cut off all father discourse.
Each knight repaired to his post, and at the head of the few followers whom they were able to muster, and who were in numbers inadequate to defend the whole extent of the walls, they awaited with calm determination the threatened assault.
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28 28 - Chapter 28 33:29
This wandering race severed from other men boast yet their intercourse with human arts. The seas, the woods, the deserts which they haunt, Find them acquainted with their secret treasures, and unregarded herbs and flowers and blossoms display undreamt-of powers when gathered by them. The Jew.
Our history must needs retrograde for the space of a few pages, to inform the reader of certain passages material to his understanding the rest of this important narrative. His own intelligence may indeed have easily anticipated that, when Ivanhoe sunk down and seemed abandoned by all the world, it was the importunity of Rebecca which prevailed on her father to have the gallant young warrior transported from the lists to the house which for the time the Jews inhabited in the suburbs of Ashby. It would not have been difficult to have persuaded Isaac to this step in any other circumstances, for his disposition was kind and grateful. But he had also the prejudices and scrupulous timidity of his persecuted people, and those were to be conquered.
Holy Abraham! he exclaimed. He is a good youth, and my heart bleeds to see the gore trickle down his rich embroidered hackathon and his corset of goodly price, but to carry him to our house. Damsel, hast thou well considered? He is a Christian. And by our law we may not deal with the stranger and gentile, save for the advantage of our commerce. "'Speak not so, my dear father,' replied Rebecca. "'We may not, indeed, mix with them in banquet and in jollity, but in wounds and in misery the gentile becometh the Jew's brother.' "'Ay, would I knew what the rabbi Jacob ben Tudeler would opine on it,' replied Isaac. "'Nevertheless, the good youth must not bleed to death.' Let Seth and Reuben bear him to Ashby.
"'Nay, let him be placed in my litter,' said Rebekah. "'I will mount one of the palfreys.' "'That were to expose thee to the gaze of those dogs of Ishmael and of Edom,' whispered Isaac, with a suspicious glance towards the crowd of knights and squires. But Rebekah was already busied in carrying her charitable purpose into effect, and listed not what he said. until Isaac seizing the sleeve of her mantle again exclaimed in a hurried voice, "'Beard of Aaron! What if the youth perish? If he die in our custody, shall we not be held guilty of his blood and be torn to pieces by the multitude?' "'He will not die, my father,' said Rebekah, gently extricating herself from the grasp of Isaac. He will not die unless we abandon him.' And if so, we are indeed answerable for his blood to God and to man.
Nay, said Isaac, releasing his hold, it grieveth me as much to see the drops of his blood as if there were so many golden byzants from mine own purse. And I well know that the lessons of Miriam, daughter of the rabbi Manasseh of Byzantium, whose soul is in Paradise, have made thee skilful in the art of healing. And that thou knowest the craft of herbs, and the force of elixirs, therefore do as thy mind giveth thee. Thou art a good damsel, a blessing, and a crown, and a song of rejoicing unto me, and unto my house, and unto the people of my fathers. The apprehensions of Isaac, however, were not ill-founded. And the generous and grateful benevolence of his daughter exposed her, on her return to Ashby, to the unhallowed gaze of Brian de Bois-Gilbert.
The Templar twice passed and repassed them on the road, fixing his bold and ardent look on the beautiful Jewess, and we have already seen the consequences of the admiration which her charms excited when accident threw her into the power of that unprincipled voluptuary.
Rebecca lost no time in causing the patient to be transported to their temporary dwelling, and proceeded with her own hands to examine and to bind up his wounds. The youngest reader of romances and romantic ballads must recollect how often the females, during the Dark Ages, as they are called, were initiated into the mysteries of surgery, and how frequently the gallant knight submitted the wounds of his person to her cure, Whose eyes had yet more deeply penetrated his heart. But the Jews, both male and female, possessed in practice the medical science in all its branches, and monarchs and powerful barons of the time frequently committed themselves to the charge of some experienced sage among this despised people, when wounded or in sickness.
The aid of the Jewish physicians was not the less eagerly sought after, though a general belief prevailed among the Christians that the Jewish rabbins were deeply acquainted with the occult sciences, and particularly with the cabalistical art, which had its name and origin in the studies of the sages of Israel. Neither did the rabbins disown such acquaintance with supernatural arts, which added nothing, for what could add aught? to the hatred with which their nation was regarded, while it diminished the contempt with which that malevolence was mingled. A Jewish magician might be the subject of equal abhorrence with a Jewish usurer, but he could not be equally despised. It is besides probable, considering the wonderful cures they are said to have performed, that the Jews possessed some secrets of the healing arts peculiar to themselves, and which, with the exclusive spirit arising out of their condition, They took great care to conceal from the Christians amongst whom they dwelt.
The beautiful Rebecca had been heedfully brought up in all the knowledge proper to her nation, which her apt and powerful mind had retained, arranged, and enlarged in the course of a progress beyond her years, her sex, and even the age in which she lived. Her knowledge of medicine and of the healing art had been acquired under an aged Jewess, the daughter of one of their most celebrated doctors, who loved Rebecca as her own child, and was believed to have communicated to her secrets which had been left to herself by her sage father at the same time and under the same circumstances. The fate of Miriam had indeed been to fall a sacrifice to the fanaticism of the times, but her secrets had survived.
in her apt pupil. Rebekah, thus endowed with knowledge as with beauty, was universally revered and admired by her own tribe, who almost regarded her as one of those gifted women mentioned in the sacred history. Her father himself, out of reverence for her talents, which involuntarily mingled itself with his unbounded affection, permitted the maiden a greater liberty than was usually indulged to those of her sex by the habits of her people, and was, as we have just seen, frequently guided by her opinion, even in preference to his own.
When Ivanhoe reached the habitation of Isaac, he was still in a state of unconsciousness, owing to the profuse loss of blood which had taken place during his exertions in the lists. Rebekah examined the wound, and having applied to it such vulnerary remedies as her art prescribed, informed her father that if fever could be averted, of which the great bleeding rendered her little apprehensive, and if the healing balsam of Miriam retained its virtue, there was nothing to fear for his guest's life, and that he might with safety travel to York with them on the ensuing day. Isaac looked a little blank at this enunciation. His charity would willingly have stopped short at Ashby, or at most would have left the wounded Christian to be tended in the house where he was residing at present, with an assurance to the Hebrew to whom it belonged that all expenses should be duly discharged.
To this, however, Rebecca opposed many reasons, of which we shall only mention two that had peculiar weight with Isaac. The one was that she would on no account put the phial of precious balsam into the hands of another physician, even of her own tribe, lest that valuable mystery should be discovered. The other, that this wounded knight, Wilfred of Ivanhoe, was an intimate favourite of Richard Cure de Leon, and that in case the monarch should return, Isaac, who had supplied his brother John with treasure to prosecute his rebellious purposes, would stand in no small need of a powerful protector who enjoyed Richard's favour. "'Thou art speaking but sooth, Rebecca,' said Isaac, giving way to these weighty arguments.
It were an offending of heaven to betray the secrets of the blessed Miriam, for the good which heaven giveth is not rashly to be squandered upon others, whether it be talents of gold and shekels of silver, or whether it be the secret mysteries of a wise physician. Assuredly they should be preserved to those to whom providence hath vouchsafed them. And him whom the Nazarenes of England call the Lion's Heart, assuredly it were better for me to fall into the hands of a strong Lion of Idumea than into his, if he shall have got assurance of my dealing with his brother. Wherefore, I will lend ear to thy counsel, and this youth shall journey with us unto York, and our house shall be as a home to him until his wounds shall be healed.
And if he of the Lionheart shall return to the land, as is now noised abroad, then shall this Wilfred of Ivanhoe be unto me as a wall of defence, when the king's displeasure shall burn high against thy father. And if he doth not return, this Wilfred may nevertheless repay us our charges, when he shall gain treasure by the strength of his spear and of his sword, even as he did yesterday and this day also. For the youth is a good youth, and keepeth the day which he appointeth, and restoreth that which he borroweth, and succoureth the Israelite, even the child of my father's house, when he is encompassed by strong thieves and sons of Belial.
It was not until evening was nearly closed that Ivanhoe was restored to consciousness of his situation. He awoke from a broken slumber, under the confused impressions which are naturally attendant on the recovery from a state of insensibility. He was unable for some time to recall exactly to memory the circumstances which had preceded his fall in the lists, or to make out any connected chain of the events in which he had been engaged upon the yesterday. A sense of wounds and injury joined to great weakness and exhaustion, was mingled with the recollection of blows dealt and received, of steeds rushing upon each other, overthrowing and overthrown, of shouts and clashing of arms, and all the heady tumult of a confused fight.
An effort to draw aside the curtain of his couch was in some degree successful, although rendered difficult by the pain of his wound. To his great surprise, he found himself in a room magnificently furnished, but having cushions instead of chairs to rest upon, and in other respects partaking so much of oriental costume that he began to doubt whether he had not, during his sleep, been transported back again to the land of Palestine. The impression was increased when, the tapestry being drawn aside, a female form, dressed in a rich habit which partook more of the eastern taste than that of Europe, glided through the door which it concealed, and was followed by a swarthy domestic. As the wounded knight was about to address this fair apparition, she imposed silence by placing her slender finger upon her ruby lips, while the attendant approaching him proceeded to uncover Ivanhoe's side, and the lovely Jewess satisfied herself that the bandage was in its place and the wound doing well.
She performed her task with a graceful and dignified simplicity and modesty, which might, even in more civilised days, have served to redeem it from whatever might seem repugnant to female delicacy. The idea of so young and beautiful a person engaged in attendance on a sick-bed, or in dressing the wound of one of a different sex, was melted away and lost in that of a beneficent being contributing her effectual aid to relieve pain and to avert the stroke of death. Rebekah's few and brief directions were given in the Hebrew language to the old domestic, and he, who had been frequently her assistant in similar cases, obeyed them without reply. The accents of an unknown tongue, however harsh they might have sounded when uttered by another, had, coming from the beautiful Rebekah, the romantic and pleasing effect which fancy ascribes to the charms pronounced by some beneficent fairy, unintelligible indeed to the ear, but from the sweetness of the utterance and benignity of aspect which accompanied them, touching and affecting to the heart.
Without making an attempt at further question, Ivanhoe suffered them in silence to take the measures they thought most proper for his recovery. And it was not until those were completed, and this kind physician about to retire, that his curiosity could no longer be suppressed. Gentle maiden, He began in the Arabian tongue, with which his eastern travels had rendered him familiar, and which he thought most likely to be understood by the turbaned and caftanned damsel who stood before him. I pray you, gentle maiden, of your courtesy. But here he was interrupted by his fair physician, a smile which she could scarce suppress, dimpling for an instant a face whose general expression was that of contemplative melancholy.
I am of England, Sir Knight, and speak the English tongue, although my dress and my lineage belong to another climate. Noble damsel! Again the knight of Ivanhoe began, and again Rebecca hastened to interrupt him. Bestow not on me, Sir Knight, she said, the epithet of noble. It is well you should speedily know that your handmaiden is a poor Jewess, the daughter of that Isaac of York to whom you were so lately a good and kind lord. It well becomes him and those of his household to render to you such careful tendance as your present state necessarily demands.
I know not whether the fair Rowena would have been altogether satisfied with the species of emotion with which her devoted knight had hitherto gazed on the beautiful features and fair form and lustrous eyes of the lovely Rebecca, eyes whose brilliancy was shaded and, as it were, mellowed by the fringe of her long silken eyelashes, and which a minstrel would have compared to the evening star darting its rays through a bower of jessamine. But Ivanhoe was too good a Catholic to retain the same class of feelings towards a Jewess. This Rebecca had foreseen, and for this very purpose she had hastened to mention her father's name and lineage. Yet, for the fair and wise daughter of Isaac was not without a touch of female weakness, she could not but sigh internally, when the glance of respectful admiration, not altogether unmixed with tenderness, with which Ivanhoe had hitherto regarded his unknown benefactress, was exchanged at once for a manner cold, composed, and collected, and fraught with no deeper feeling than that which expressed a grateful sense of courtesy received from an unexpected quarter, and from one of an inferior race.
It was not that Ivanhoe's former carriage expressed more than that general devotional homage which youth always pays to beauty. Yet it was mortifying that one word should operate as a spell to remove poor Rebecca, who could not be supposed altogether ignorant of her title to such homage, into a degraded class to whom it could not be honourably rendered. But the gentleness and candour of Rebecca's nature imputed no fault to Ivanhoe for sharing in the universal prejudices of his age and religion. On the contrary, the fair Jewess, though sensible her patience now regarded her as one of a race of reprobation, with whom it was disgraceful to hold any beyond the most necessary intercourse, ceased not to pay the same patient and devoted attention to his safety and convalescence.
She informed him of the necessity they were under of removing to York, and of her father's resolution to transport him thither, and tend him in his own house, until his health should be restored. Ivanhoe expressed great repugnance to this plan, which he grounded on unwillingness to give father trouble to his benefactors. Was there not, he said, in Ashby or near it, some Saxon Franklin, or even some wealthy peasant who would endure the burden of a wounded countryman's residence with him until he should be again able to bear his armour? Was there no convent of Saxon endowment where he could be received? Or could he not be transported as far as Burton, where he was sure to find hospitality with Wolfeoff, the abbot of St.
Withold's, to whom he was related? Any the worst of these harbourages, said Rebecca, with a melancholy smile, would unquestionably be more fitting for your residence than the abode of a despised Jew. Yet, sir Knight, unless you would dismiss your physician, you cannot change your lodging. Our nation, as you will know, can cure wounds, though we deal not in inflicting them. And in our own family in particular, our secrets, which have been handed down since the days of Solomon, and of which you have already experienced the advantages. No Nazarene—I crave your forgiveness, sir Knight—no Christian leech within the four seas of Britain could enable you to bear your corslet within a month." "'And how soon wilt thou enable me to brook it?' said Ivanhoe impatiently.
"'Within eight days, if thou wilt be patient and conformable to my directions,' replied Rebecca. "'By our blessed lady!' said Wilfred, if it be not a sin to name her here. It is no time for me or any true knight to be bedridden. And if thou accomplish thy promise, maiden, I will pay thee with my cask full of crowns. Come by them as I may. I will accomplish my promise, said Rebekah, and thou shalt bear thine armour on the eighth day from hence, if thou wilt grant me but one boon in the stead of the silver thou dost promise me. If it be within my power, and such as a true Christian knight may yield to one of thy people, replied Ivanhoe, I will grant thy boon blithely and thankfully. Nay, answered Rebekah, I will but pray of thee to believe henceforward that a Jew may do good service to a Christian without desiring other guerdon than the blessing of the great father who made both Jew and Gentile.
"'It were a sin to doubt it, maiden,' replied Ivanhoe. "'And I repose myself on thy skill without further question or scruple. Well trusting you will enable me to bear my corslet on the eighth day.' "'And now, my kind leech, let me inquire of the news abroad. What of the noble Saxon Cedric and his household? What of the lovely lady?' He stopped, as if unwilling to speak Rowena's name in the house of a Jew—of her I mean who was named Queen of the Tournament. And who was selected by you, Sir Knight, to hold that dignity with judgment which was admired as much as your valour, replied Rebekah. The blood which Ivanhoe had lost did not prevent a flush from crossing his cheek. Feeling that he had incautiously betrayed a deep interest in Rowena by the awkward attempt he had made to conceal it.
It was less of her, I would speak, said he, than of Prince John. And I would fain know somewhat of a faithful squire, and why he now attends me not. Let me use my authority as a leech, answered Rebecca, and enjoin you to keep silence, and avoid agitating reflections, whilst I apprise you of what you desire to know. Prince John hath broken off the tournament, and set forward in all haste towards York, with the nobles, knights, and churchmen of his party, after collecting such sums as they could wring, by fair means or foul, from those who are esteemed the wealthy of the land. It is said he designs to assume his brother's crown. "'Not without a blow struck in its defence,' said Ivanhoe, raising himself upon the couch.
"'If there were but one true subject in England, I will fight for Richard's title with the best of them—ay, one or two in his just quarrel.' "'But that you may be able to do so,' said Rebecca, touching his shoulder with her hand, "'you must now observe my directions and remain quiet.' True, maiden, said Ivanhoe, as quiet as these disquieted times will permit. And of Cedric and his household? His steward came but brief while since, said the Jewess, panting with haste, to ask my father for certain moneys, the price of wool, the growth of Cedric's flocks. And from him I learnt that Cedric and Athelstain of Koningsburg, had left Prince John's lodging in high displeasure, and were about to set forth on their return homeward.
"'Went any lady with them to the banquet?' said Wilfred. "'The Lady Rowena,' said Rebecca, answering the question with more precision than it had been asked, "'the Lady Rowena went not to the Prince's feast, and, as the steward reported to us, she is now on her journey back to Rotherwood with her guardian Cedric.' And—' Touching your faithful squire, Goorth. Ha! exclaimed the knight. Knowest thou his name? But thou dost, he immediately added. And well thou mayest, for it was from thy hand, and as I am now convinced from thine own generosity of spirit, that he received but yesterday a hundred seconds. Speak not of that," said Rebecca, blushing deeply. I see how easy it is for the tongue to betray what the heart would gladly conceal.
"'But this sum of gold,' said Ivanhoe gravely, "'my honour is concerned in repaying it to your father.' "'Let it be as thou wilt,' said Rebekah, "'when eight days have passed away. But think not, and speak not now of aught that may retard thy recovery.' "'Be it so, kind maiden,' said Ivanhoe. I were most ungrateful to dispute thy commands. But one word of the fate of poor Goeth, and I have done with questioning thee. "'I grieve to tell thee, Sir Knight,' answered the Jewess, "'that he is in custody by the order of Cedric.' And then, observing the distress which her communication gave to Wilfred, she instantly added, "'I But the steward, Oswald, said that if nothing occurred to renew his master's displeasure against him, he was sure that Cedric would pardon Gurth, a faithful serf, and one who stood high in favour, and who had but committed this error out of the love which he bore to Cedric's son.
And he said, moreover, that he and his comrades, and especially Wamba the jester, were resolved to warn Gurth to make his escape by the way, in case Cedric's ire against him could not be mitigated. Would to God they may keep their purpose," said Ivanhoe, but it seems as if I were destined to bring ruin on whomsoever hath shown kindness to me. My king, by whom I was honoured and distinguished, thou seest that the brother most indebted to him is raising his arms to grasp his crown. My regard hath brought restraint and trouble on the fairest of her sex, and now my father in his mood may slay this Poor bondsman, but for his love and service to me. Thou seest, maiden, what an ill-fated wretch thou dost labour to assist.
Be wise, and let me go, where the misfortunes which track my footsteps like slot-hounds shall involve thee also in their pursuit. Nay, said Rebekah. Thy weakness and thy grief, Sir Knight, make thee miscalculate the purposes of heaven. Thou hast been restored to thy country when it most needed the assistance of a strong hand and a true heart. And thou hast humbled the pride of thine enemies and those of thy king, when their horn was most highly exalted. And for the evil which thou hast sustained, seest thou not that heaven has raised thee a helper and a physician, even among the most despised of the land? Therefore be of good courage. And trust that thou art preserved for some marvel which thine arm shall work before this people.
Adieu. And having taken the medicine which I shall send thee by the hand of Reuben, compose thyself again to rest, that thou mayest be the more able to endure the journey on the succeeding day.
Ivanhoe was convinced by the reasoning, and obeyed the directions of Rebecca. The draught which Reuben administered was of a sedative and narcotic quality, and secured the patient's sound and undisturbed slumbers. In the morning his kind physician found him entirely free from feverish symptoms, and fit to undergo the fatigue of a journey. He was deposited in the horse-litter which had brought him from the lists, and every precaution taken for his travelling with ease. In one circumstance only, even the entreaties of Rebecca were unable to secure sufficient attention to the accommodation of the wounded knight. Isaac, like the enriched traveller of Juvenal's Tenth Satire, had ever the fear of robbery before his eyes, conscious that he would be alike accounted fair game by the marauding Norman noble and by the Saxon outlaw.
He therefore journeyed at a great rate and made short halts and shorter repasts. So that he passed by Cedric and Athelstane, who had several hours the start of him, but who had been delayed by their protracted feasting at the convent of St. Withholtz. Yet such was the virtue of Miriam's balsam, or such the strength of Ivanhoe's constitution, that he did not sustain from the hurried journey that inconvenience which his kind physician had apprehended. In another point of view, however, the Jew's haste proved somewhat more than good speed. The rapidity with which he insisted on travelling bred several disputes between him and the party whom he had hired to attend him as a guard. These men were saxons, and not free by any means from the national love of ease and good living which the normans stigmatised as laziness and gluttony.
Reversing Shylock's position, they had accepted the employment in hopes of feeding upon the wealthy Jew, and were very much displeased when they found themselves disappointed by the rapidity with which he insisted on their proceeding. They remonstrated also upon the risk of damage to their horses by these forced marches. Finally, there arose betwixt Isaac and his satellites a deadly feud concerning the quantity of wine and ale to be allowed for consumption at each meal. And thus it happened that when the alarm of danger approached, and that which Isaac feared was likely to come upon him, he was deserted by the discontented mercenaries on whose protection he had relied, without using the means necessary to secure their attachment.
In this deplorable condition, the Jew, with his daughter and her wounded patient, were found by Cedric, as has already been noticed. and soon afterwards fell into the power of de Bracy and his confederates. Little notice was at first taken of the horse-litter, and it might have remained behind but for the curiosity of de Bracy, who looked into it under the impression that it might contain the object of his enterprise, for Rowena had not unveiled herself. But de Bracy's astonishment was considerable when he discovered that the litter contained a wounded man. who, conceiving himself to have fallen into the power of saxon outlaws, with whom his name might be a protection for himself and his friends, frankly avowed himself to be Wilfred of Ivanhoe.
The ideas of chivalrous honour, which, amidst his wildness and levity, never utterly abandoned de Bracy, prohibited him from doing the knight any injury in his defenceless condition. and equally interdicted his betraying him to front of Boeuf, who would have had no scruples to put to death under any circumstances the rival claimant of the thief of Ivanhoe. On the other hand, to liberate a suitor preferred by the Lady Rowena, as the events of the tournament, and indeed Wilfred's previous banishment from his father's house, had made matter of notoriety, was a pitch far above the flight of de Bracey's generosity. A middle course betwixt good and evil was all which he found himself capable of adopting, and he commanded two of his own squires to keep close by the litter, and to suffer no one to approach it.
If questioned, they were directed by their master to say that the empty litter of the lady Rowena was employed to transport one of their comrades who had been wounded in the scuffle. On arriving at Torquilstone, while the knight-templar and the lord of that castle were each intent upon their own schemes, the one on the Jew's treasure, and the other on his daughter, de Bracy's squires conveyed Ivanhoe, still under the name of a wounded comrade, to a distant apartment. This explanation was accordingly returned by these men to front of Boeuf, when he questioned them why they did not make for the battlements upon the alarm. "'A wounded companion,' he replied, in great wrath and astonishment. "'No wonder that churls and yeomen wax so presumptuous as even to lay leaguer before castles, and that clowns and swineherds send defiances to nobles, since men-at-arms have turned sick men's nurses, and free companions are grown keepers of dying folk's curtains when the castle is about to be assailed.
To the battlements, ye loitering villains!' he exclaimed, raising his stentorian voice till the arches around rung again. "'To the battlements, or I will splinter your bones with this truncheon!' The men sulkily replied that they desired nothing better than to go to the battlements, providing Frondeboeuf would bear them out with their master, who had commanded them to tend the dying man. "'The dying man, knaves,' rejoined the baron. "'I promise thee we shall all be dying men, and we stand not to it the more stoutly. But I will relieve the guard upon this caitive companion of yours. Here, Erfried, hag, fiend of a Saxon witch. Hearest me not? Tend me this bedridden fellow, since he must needs be tended, whilst these knaves use their weapons.' Here be two arblasts, comrade, with windlaces and quarrels.
To the barbican with you, and see you drive each bolt through a Saxon brain.
The men, who, like most of their description, were fond of enterprise and detested inaction, went joyfully to the scene of danger, as they were commanded. And thus the charge of Ivanhoe was transferred to Erfried, or Ulrike. But she, whose brain was burning with remembrance of injuries, and with hopes of vengeance, was readily induced to devolve upon Rebecca, the care of her patient.
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XXXIX. Ascend the watchtower yonder, valiant soldier. Look on the field, and say how goes the battle. Schiller's Maid of Orlien. A moment of peril is often also a moment of open-hearted kindness and affection. We are thrown off our guard by the general agitation of our feelings, and betray the intensity of those which, at more tranquil periods, our prudence at least conceals, if it cannot altogether suppress them. In finding herself once more by the side of Ivanhoe, Rebecca was astonished at the keen sensation of pleasure which she experienced, even at a time when all around them both was danger, if not despair. As she felt his pulse and inquired after his health, there was a softness in her touch and in her accents, implying a kinder interest than she would herself have been pleased to have voluntarily expressed.
Her voice faltered, and her hand trembled, and it was only the cold question of Ivanhoe, Is it you, gentle maiden? Which recalled her to herself, and reminded her the sensations which she felt were not, and could not be mutual. A sigh escaped, but it was scarce audible, and the questions which she asked the knight concerning his state of health were put in the tone of calm friendship. Ivanhoe answered her hastily that he was, in point of health, as well and better than he could have expected. Thanks, he said, dear Rebecca, to thy helpful skill. He calls me dear Rebecca, said the maiden to herself, but it is in the cold and careless tone which ill suits the word. His war-horse, his hunting-hound, are dearer to him than the despised Jewess.
My mind, gentle maiden, continued Ivanhoe, is more disturbed by anxiety than my body with pain. From the speeches of those men who were my warders just now, I learn that I am a prisoner, and if I judge aright of the loud, hoarse voice which even now dispatched them hence on some military duty, I am in the castle of front of birth. If so, how will this end, or how can I protect Rowena and my father? "'He names not the Jew or Jewess,' said Rebekah internally. "'Yet what is our portion in him, and how justly am I punished by heaven for letting my thoughts dwell upon him?' She hastened after this brief self-accusation to give Ivanhoe what information she could, but it amounted only to this, that the Templar Bois-Guilbert and the Baron Frondeboeuf were commanders within the castle, that it was beleaguered from without, but by whom she knew not.
She added that there was a Christian priest within the castle, who might be possessed of more information. "'A Christian priest,' said the knight joyfully. "'Fetch him hither, Rebecca, if thou canst. Say, a sick man desires his ghostly counsel. Say what thou wilt, but bring him. Something I must do or attempt, but how can I determine until I know how matters stand without?' Rebecca, in compliance with the wishes of Ivanhoe, made that attempt to bring Cedric into the wounded knight's chamber, which was defeated, as we have already seen, by the interference of Erfried, who had also been on the watch to intercept the supposed monk. Rebecca retired to communicate to Ivanhoe the result of her errand.
They had not much leisure to regret the failure of this source of intelligence, or to contrive by what means it might be supplied. For the noise within the castle, occasioned by the defensive preparations, which had been considerable for some time, now increased into tenfold bustle and clamour. The heavy yet hasty step of the men-at-arms traversed the battlements, or resounded on the narrow and winding passages and stairs which led to the various partisans and points of defence. The voices of the knights were heard animating their followers, or directing means of defence, While their commands were often drowned in the clashing of armour, or the clamorous shouts of those whom they addressed. Tremendous as these sounds were, and yet more terrible from the awful event which they presaged, there was a sublimity mixed with them, which Rebecca's high-toned mind could feel even in that moment of terror.
Her eye kindled, although the blood fled from her cheeks, and there was a strong mixture of fear and of a thrilling sense of the sublime, as she repeated, half whispering to herself, half speaking to her companion, the sacred text, the quiver rattleth, the glittering spear and the shield, the noise of the captains and the shouting. But Ivanhoe was like the war-horse of that sublime passage, glowing with impatience at his inactivity, and with his ardent desire to mingle in the affray of which these sounds were the introduction. If I could but drag myself, he said, to yonder window, that I might see how this brave game is like to go. If I had but bow to shoot a shaft, or battle-axe to strike, were it but a single blow for our deliverance.
It is in vain. It is in vain. I am alike nerveless and weaponless. "'Fret not thyself, noble knight,' answered Rebecca. "'The sounds have ceased of a sudden. It may be they join not battle.' "'Thou knowest naught of it,' said Wilfred, impatiently. "'This dead pause only shows that the men are at their posts on the walls, and expecting an instant attack. What we have heard was but the instant muttering of the storm. It will burst anon in all its fury. Could I but reach yonder window? Thou wilt but injure thyself by the attempt, noble knight, replied his attendant. Observing his extreme solicitude, she firmly added, "'I myself will stand at the lattice and describe to you as I can what passes without.' "'You must not—you shall not,' exclaimed Ivanhoe.
Each lattice, each aperture will be soon a mark for the archers, some random shaft. It shall be welcome, murmured Rebecca. As with firm pace she ascended two or three steps, which led to the window of which they spoke. "'Rebecca! Dear Rebecca!' exclaimed Ivanhoe. "'This is no maiden's pastime. Do not expose thyself to wounds and death, and render me for ever miserable for having given the occasion.' At least cover thyself with yonder ancient buckler, and show as little of your person at the lass's as may be. Following with wonderful promptitude the directions of Ivanhoe, and availing herself of the protection of the large ancient shield which she placed against the lower part of the window, Rebecca, with tolerable security to herself, could witness part of what was passing without the castle, and report to Ivanhoe the preparations which the assailants were making for the storm.
Indeed, the situation which she thus obtained was peculiarly favourable for this purpose, because, being placed on an angle of the main building, Rebecca could not only see what passed beyond the precincts of the castle, but also commanded a view of the outwork likely to be the first object of the meditated assault. It was an exterior fortification of no great height or strength, intended to protect the postern gate through which Cedric had been recently dismissed by Frondeboeuf. The castle moat divided this species of barbican from the rest of the fortress, so that in case of its being taken, it was easy to cut off the communication with the main building by withdrawing the temporary bridge.
In the outwork was a sally port corresponding to the postern of the castle, and the whole was surrounded by a strong palisade. Rebecca could observe from the number of men placed for the defence of this post that the besieged entertained apprehensions for its safety, and from the mustering of the assailants in a direction nearly opposite to the outwork, it seemed no less plain that it had been selected as a vulnerable point of attack. These appearances she hastily communicated to Ivanhoe, and added, "'The skirts of the wood seemed lined with arches, Although only a few are advanced from its dark shadow. "'Under what banner?' asked Ivanhoe. "'Under no ensign of war which I can observe,' answered Rebecca.
"'A singular novelty,' muttered the knight, "'to advance to storm such a castle without pen and or banner displayed. Seest thou who they be that act as leaders?' "'A knight clad in sable armour is the most conspicuous,' said the Jewess. He alone is armed from head to heel, and seems to assume the direction of all around him. "'What device does he bear on his shield?' replied Ivanhoe. "'Something resembling a bar of iron and a padlock painted blue on the black shield.' "'Fetterlock and shackle-bolt azure,' said Ivanhoe. "'I know not who may bear the device, but well I ween it might now be mine own.' Canst I not see the motto? Scarce the device itself, at this distance. But when the sun glances fair upon his shield, it shows as I tell you.
Seen there no other leaders? exclaimed the anxious enquirer. None of mark and distinction that I can behold from this station, said Rebecca. But, doubtless, the other side of the castle is also assailed. They appear even now, preparing to advance. God of Zion protects us. What a dreadful sight! Those who advance first bear huge shields and defenses made of plank. The others follow, bending their bows as they come on. They raise their bows. God of Moses, forgive the creatures thou hast made. Her description was here suddenly interrupted by the signal for assault, which was given by the blast of a shrill bugle, and at once answered by a flourish of the Norman trumpets from the battlements, which, mingled with the deep and hollow clang of the Nakers, a species of kettledrum, retorted in notes of defiance the challenge of the enemy.
The shouts of both parties augmented the fearful din, the assailants crying, St. George for Merry England, and the Normans answering them with loud cries of, En avant de Brassy, Beaucan, Beaucan, Front de Boeuf, a la Recousse, according to the war-cries of their different commanders. It was not, however, by clamour that the contest was to be decided, and the desperate efforts of the assailants were met by an equally vigorous defence on the part of the besieged. The archers, trained by their woodland pastimes to the most effective use of the longbow, shot, to use the appropriate phrase of the time, so wholly together, that no point at which a defender could show the least part of his person escaped their cloth-yard shafts.
By this heavy discharge, which continued as thick and sharp as hail, while notwithstanding every arrow had its individual aim, and flew by scores together against each embrasure and opening in the parapets, as well as at every window where a defender either occasionally had post or might be suspected to be stationed, by this sustained discharge two or three of the garrison were slain, and several others wounded. But confident in their armour of proof, and in the cover which their situation afforded, the followers of Fronteboeuf and his allies showed an obstinacy in defence proportioned to the fury of the attack, and replied with the discharge of their large cross-bows, as well as with their long-bows, slings, and other missile weapons, to the close and continued shower of arrows.
And as the assailants were necessarily but indifferently protected, did considerably more damage than they received at their hand. The whizzing of shafts and of missiles on both sides was only interrupted by the shouts which arose when either side inflicted or sustained some notable loss. "'And I must lie here like a bedridden monk,' exclaimed Ivanhoe, "'while the game that gives me freedom or death is played out by the hand of others.' Look from the window once again, kind maiden, but beware that you are not marked by the arches beneath. Look out once more, and tell me of the yet advanced of the storm. With patient courage, strengthened by the interval which she had employed in mental devotion, Rebecca again took post at the lattice, sheltering herself however so as not to be visible from beneath.
"'What dost thou see, Rebecca?' again demanded the wounded knight. Nothing but the cloud of arrows flying so thick as to dazzle mine eyes, and to hide the bowmen who shoot them. That cannot endure, said Ivanhoe. If they press not right on to carry the castle by pure force of arms, the archery may avail but little against stone walls and bulwarks. Look for the knight of the fetterlock, fair Rebecca, and see how he bears himself. For as the leader is, so will his followers be. I seem not. said Rebecca. "'Foul craven!' exclaimed Ivanhoe. "'Does he blench from the helm when the wind blows highest?' "'He blenches not—he blenches not!' said Rebecca. "'I see him now. He leads a body of men close under the outer barrier of the Barbican.
They pull down the piles and palisades. They hew down the barriers with axes. His high black plume floats abroad over the throng like a raven over the field of the slain. They have made a breach in the barriers. They rush in. They are thrust back. Fronderboeuf heads the defenders. I see his gigantic form above the press. They throng again to the breach. The pass is disputed hand to hand and man to man. God of Jacob! It is the meeting of two fierce tides, the conflict of two oceans moved by adverse winds. She turned her head from the lattice, as if unable longer to endure a sight so terrible. "'Look forth again, Rebecca,' said Ivanhoe, mistaking the cause of her retiring. "'The archery must in some degree have ceased since they are now fighting hand to hand.
Look again. There is now less danger.' Rebecca again looked forth, and almost immediately exclaimed, "'Holy prophets of the law! Fron de Boeuf and the Black Knight fight hand to hand on the breach, amid the roar of their followers, who watch the progress of the strife.' Heaven strike with the cause of the oppressed and of the captive. She then uttered a loud shriek and exclaimed, "'He is down! He is down!' "'Who is down?' cried Ivanhoe. "'For our dear lady's sake, tell me which has fallen.' "'The Black Knight,' answered Rebecca faintly, then instantly again shouted with joyful eagerness, "'But no!' The name of the Lord of hosts be blessed. He is on foot again, and fights as if there were twenty men's strength in his single arm.
His sword is broken. He snatches an axe from a yeoman. He presses front de boeuf with blow on blow. The giant stoops and totters like an oak under the steel of the woodman. He falls. He falls. Front de boeuf, exclaimed Ivanhoe. Front de boeuf, answered the Jewess. His men rush to the rescue, headed by the haughty Templar. Their united force compels the champion to pause. They drag front above within the walls. "'The assailants have won the barriers, have they not?' said Ivanhoe. "'They have—they have!' exclaimed Rebecca. "'And they press the besieged hard upon the outer wall. Some plant ladders, some swarm like bees, and endeavour to ascend upon the shoulders of each other.' Down go stones, beams, and trunks of trees upon their heads, and as fast as they bear the wounded to the rear, fresh men supply their places in the assault.
Great God! hast thou given men thine own image that it should be thus cruelly defaced by the hands of their brethren? Think not of that," said Ivanhoe. This is no time for such thoughts. Who yield? Who push their way? The ladders are thrown down," replied Rebecca, shuddering. The soldiers lie grovelling under them like crushed reptiles. The besieged have the better. "'St. George, strike for us!' exclaimed the knight. "'Do the false yeoman give way?' "'No,' exclaimed Rebecca. "'They bear themselves right yeomanly.' "'The black knight approaches the postern with his huge axe. "'The thundering blows which he deals, "'you may hear them above all the din and shouts of the battle.' Stone and beams are hailed down on the bold champion.
He regards them no more than if they were thistle-down or feathers. "'By St. John of Acre,' said Ivanhoe, raising himself joyfully on his couch, "'Methought there was but one man in England that might do such a deed.' "'The postern gate shakes,' continued Rebecca. "'It crashes. It is splintered by his blows.' They rush in. The outwork is won. Oh, God! They hurl the defenders from the battlements. They throw them into the moat. Oh, men! If ye be indeed men, spare them that can resist no longer. "'The bridge—the bridge which communicates with the castle—have they won that pass?' exclaimed Ivanhoe. "'No,' replied Rebecca. "'The Templar has destroyed the plank on which they crossed. Few of the defenders escaped with him into the castle.' The shrieks and cries which you hear tell of the fate of the others.
Alas! I see it is still more difficult to look upon victory than upon battle. "'What do they now, maiden?' said Ivanhoe. "'Look forth yet again. This is no time to faint at bloodshed.' "'It is over for the time,' answered Rebecca. "'Our friends strengthen themselves within the outwork which they have mastered.' And it affords them so good a shelter from the foeman's shot that the garrison only bestow a few bolts on it from interval to interval, as if rather to disquiet than effectively to injure them. Our friends, said Wilfred, will surely not abandon an enterprise so gloriously begun and so happily attained. Oh, no, I will put my faith in the good knight whose axe hath rent heart of oak and bars of iron.
Singular! He again muttered to himself, if there be two who can do a deed of such daring do. A fetter luck and a shackle bolt on a field sable. What may that mean? Seest thou naught else, Rebecca, by which the black knight may be distinguished? Nothing, said the Jewess. All about him is black as the wing of the night raven. Nothing can I spy that can mark him farther. But, having once seen him put forth his strength in battle, methinks I could know him again among a thousand warriors. He rushes to the fray as if he were summoned to a banquet. There is more than mere strength. There seems as if the whole soul and spirit of the champion were given to every blow which he deals upon his enemies. God, assoil ye him of the sin of bloodshed.
It is fearful, yet magnificent, to behold how the arm and heart of one man can triumph over hundreds. "'Rebecca,' said Ivanhoe, "'thou hast painted a hero. Surely they rest but to refresh their force, or to provide the means of crossing the moat. Under such a leader as thou hast spoken this night to be, there are no craven fears, no cold-blooded delays, no yielding up a gallant emprise. Since the difficulties which render it arduous render it also glorious. I swear by the honour of my house, I vow by the name of my bright lady-love, I would endure ten years' captivity to fight one day by that good knight's side in such a quarrel as this. Alas, said Rebecca, leaving her station at the window, and approaching the couch of the wounded knight, This impatient yearning after action, this struggling with and repining at your present weakness, will not fail to injure your returning health.
How couldst thou hope to inflict wounds on others, ere that be healed which thou thyself hast received? Rebekah, he replied, thou knowest not how impossible it is for one trained to actions of chivalry to remain passive as a priest or a woman when there are acting deeds of honour around him. The love of battle is the food upon which we live. The dust of the melee is the breath of our nostrils. We live not, we wish not to live, longer than while we are victorious and renowned. Such maiden are the laws of chivalry to which we are sworn, and to which we offer all that we hold dear. Alas, said the fair deuce, And what is it, valiant knight, save an offering of sacrifice to a demon of vain glory, and a passing through the fire to Moloch?
What remains to you as the prize of all the blood you have spilt, of all the travail and pain you have endured, of all the tears which your deeds have caused, when death have broken the strong man's spear and overtaken the speed of his war-horse? What remains? cried Ivanhoe. Glory, maiden, glory! Which gilds our sepulchre and embalms our name. Glory, continued Rebecca. Alas, is the rusted mail which hangs as hatchment over the champion's dim and mouldering tomb, is the defaced sculpture of the inscription which the ignorant monk can hardly read to the inquiring pilgrim, Are these sufficient rewards for the sacrifice of every kindly affection, for a life spent miserably, that ye may make others miserable?
Or is there such virtue in the rude rhymes of a wandering bard, that domestic love, kindly affection, peace, and happiness are so wildly bartered, to become the hero of those ballads which vagabond minstrels sing to drunken churls over their evening ale? "'By the soul of Heriwood,' replied the knight impatiently, "'thou speakest, maiden, of thou knowest not what. Thou wouldst quench the pure light of chivalry, which alone distinguishes the noble from the base, the gentle knight from the churl and the savage, which rates our life far, far beneath the pitch of our honour.' Raises us victorious over pain, toil, and suffering, and teaches us to fear no evil but disgrace. Thou art no Christian, Rebecca, and to thee are unknown those high feelings which swell the bosom of a noble maiden when her lover hath done some deed of emprise which sanctions his flame.
Chivalry! Why, maiden, she is the nurse of pure and high affection, the stay of the oppressed, the redresser of grievances, the curb of the power of the tyrant. Nobility were but an empty name without her, and liberty finds the best protection in her lance and her sword. I am indeed, said Rebecca, sprung from a race whose courage was distinguished in the defence of their own land, But who warred not, even while yet a nation, save at the command of the deity, or in defending their country from oppression. The sound of the trumpet wakes Judah no longer, and her despised children are now but the unresisting victims of hostile and military oppression. Well hast thou spoken, Sir Knight, until the God of Jacob shall raise up for his chosen people a second Gideon, or a new Maccabeus, It ill-beseemeth the Jewish damsel to speak of battle or of war.
The high-minded maiden concluded the argument in a tone of sorrow, which deeply expressed her sense of the degradation of her people, embittered, perhaps, by the idea that Ivanhoe considered her as one not entitled to interfere in a case of honour, and incapable of entertaining or expressing sentiments of honour and generosity. How little he knows this bosom, she said, to imagine that cowardice or meanness of soul must needs be its guests, because I have censured the fantastic chivalry of the Nazarenes. Would to heaven that the shedding of mine own blood, drop by drop, could redeem the captivity of Judah! Nay, would to God it could avail to set free my father, and this his benefactor, from the chains of the oppressor!
The proud Christian should then see whether the daughter of God's chosen people dare not to die as bravely as the vainest Nazarene maiden that boasts her descent from some petty chieftain of the rude and frozen north. She then looked towards the couch of the wounded knight. He sleeps, she said. Nature exhausted by sufferance and the waste of spirits. His weary frame embraces the first moment of temporary relaxation to sink into slumber. Alas, is it a crime that I should look upon him, when it may be for the last time? When yet but a short space and those fair features will be no longer animated by the bold and buoyant spirit which forsakes them not even in sleep? When the nostril shall be distended, the mouth agape, the eyes fixed and bloodshot, and when the proud and noble knight may be trodden on by the lowest caitiff of this accursed castle, yet stir not when the heel is lifted up against him.
And my father, oh, my father, evil is it with his daughter when his grey hairs are not remembered because of the golden locks of youth. What know I but that these evils are the messengers of Jehovah's wrath to the unnatural child, who thinks of a stranger's captivity before a parent's, who forgets the desolation of Judah, and looks upon the comeliness of a Gentile and a stranger? But I will tear this folly from my heart, though every fibre bleed as I rend it away. She wrapped herself closely in her veil. and sat down at a distance from the couch of the wounded knight, with her back turned towards it, fortifying, or endeavouring to fortify her mind, not only against the impending evils from without, but also against those treacherous feelings which assailed her from within.
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mid-morning's sweetest breath and softest dew is winged to heaven by good men's sighs and tears. Anselm parts otherwise. Old play.
During the interval of quiet which followed the first success of the besiegers, while the one party was preparing to pursue their advantage, and the other to strengthen their means of defence, the Templer and de Bracy held brief council together in the hall of the castle. "'Where is Frant de Boeuf?' said the latter, who had superintended the defence of the fortress on the other side. Men say he has been slain. He lives.' said the Templer coolly, lives as yet. But had he worn the bull's head of which he bears the name, and ten plates of iron to fence it withal, he must have gone down before yonder fatal axe. Yet a few hours, and from the birth is with his fathers, a powerful limb lopped off Prince John's enterprise.
And a brave addition to the kingdom of Satan, said de Bracy. This comes of reviling saints and angels, and ordering images of holy things and holy men to be flung down on the heads of these rascal yeomen. "'Go to, thou art a fool,' said the Templer. "'Thy superstition is upon a level with Fronteboeuf's want of faith. Neither of you can render a reason for your belief or unbelief.' "'Benedicite, Sir Templer.' replied de Bracy. Pray you to keep better rule with your tongue when I am the theme of it. By the mother of heaven, I am a better Christian man than thou and thy fellowship. For the brute goeth shrewdly about that the most holy order of the temple of Zion nurseth not a few heretics within its bosom, and that Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert is of the number.
Care not thou for such reports, said the Templer. But let us think of making good the castle. How fought these villain yeomen on thy side? Like fiends incarnate, said de Bracy. They swarmed close up to the walls, headed, as I think, by the knave who won the prize at the archery, for I knew his horn and baldric. And this is old Fitzers's boasted policy, encouraging these Malapert knaves to rebel against us. Had I not been armed in proof, the villain had marked me down seven times with as little remorse as if I had been a buck in season. He told every rivet on my armour with a cloth-yard shaft that wrapped against my ribs with as little compunction as if my bones had been of iron, but that I wore a shirt of Spanish mail under my plate-coat I had been fairly sped.
"'But you maintained your post,' said the Templar. "'We lost the outwork on our part.' That is a shrewd loss, said de Bracy. The knaves will find cover there to assault the castle more closely, and may, if not well watched, gain some unguarded corner of a tower, or some forgotten window, and so break in upon us. Our number are too few for the defence of every point, and the men complain that they can nowhere show themselves, but they are the mark for as many arrows as a parish but on a holiday even. Frondeboeuf is dying, too, so we shall receive no more aid from his bull's-head and brutal strength. How, think you, Sir Bryan, will we not better make a virtue of necessity and compound with the rogues by delivering up our prisoners?
How? exclaimed the Templar. Deliver up our prisoners, and stand an object alike of ridicule and execration as the doughty warriors who dared by a night attack to possess themselves of the persons of a party of defenseless travelers yet could not make good a strong castle against a vagabond troupe of outlaws led by swineherds, jesters, and the very refuse of mankind? Shame on thy counsel, Morris de Bracy. The ruins of this castle shall bury both my body and my shame, ere I consent to such base and dishonourable composition. Let us to the walls, then, said de Bracy carelessly. That man never breathed, be he turk or Templar, who held life at a lighter rate than I do. But I trust there is no dishonour in wishing I had here some two score of my gallant troop of free companions.
Ah, my brave lances! If ye knew but how hard your captain were this day bested, how soon should I see my banner at the head of your clump of spears? And how short while would these rabble villains stand to endure your encounter? Wish for whom thou wilt, said the Templar, but let us make what defence we can with the soldiers who remain. They are chiefly Frant de Boerf's followers, hated by the English for a thousand acts of insolence and oppression. "'The better,' said de Bracy. "'The rugged slaves will defend themselves to the last drop of their blood ere they encounter the revenge of the peasants without. Let us be up and doing, then, Brian de Boagilbert. And, live or die, thou shalt see Maurice de Bracy bear himself this day as a gentleman of blood and lineage.' To the walls, answered the Templar, and they both ascended the battlements to do all that skill could dictate and manhood accomplish in defence of the place.
They readily agreed that the point of greatest danger was that opposite to the outwork of which the assailants had possessed themselves. The castle, indeed, was divided from that barbican by the moat, and it was impossible that the besiegers could assail the postern-door with which the outwork corresponded without surmounting that obstacle. But it was the opinion both of the Templar and de Bracy that the besiegers, if governed by the same principle their leader had already displayed, would endeavour, by a formidable assault, to draw the chief part of the defender's observation to this point, and take measures to avail themselves of every negligence which might take place in the defence elsewhere.
To guard against such an evil, their numbers only permitted the knights to place sentinels from space to space along the walls in communication with each other, who might give the alarm whenever danger was threatened. Meanwhile they agreed that de Bracy should command the defence at the postern, and the Templar should keep with him a score of men or thereabouts as a body of reserve, ready to hasten to any other point which might be suddenly threatened. The loss of the barbican had also this unfortunate effect, that, notwithstanding the superior height of the castle walls, the besieged could not see from them, with the same precision as before, the operations of the enemy, for some straggling underwood approached so near the sally-port of the outwork that the assailants might introduce into it whatever force they thought proper, not only under cover, but even without the knowledge of the defenders.
Utterly uncertain, therefore, upon what point the storm was to burst, de Bracy and his companion were under the necessity of providing against every possible contingency, and their followers, however brave, experienced the anxious dejection of mind incident to men enclosed by enemies who possessed the power of choosing their time and mode of attack. Meanwhile the lord of the beleaguered and endangered castle lay upon a bed of bodily pain and mental agony. He had not the usual resource of bigots in that superstitious period, most of whom were wont to atone for the crimes that they were guilty of by liberality to the church, stupefying by this means their terrors by the idea of atonement and forgiveness, And, although the refuge which success thus purchased was no more like to the peace of mind which follows on sincere repentance than the turbid stupefaction procured by opium resembles healthy and natural slumbers, it was still a state of mind preferable to the agonies of awakened remorse.
But among the vices of fronteboeuf, a hard and griping man, avarice was predominant. and he preferred setting church and churchmen at defiance to purchasing from them pardon and absolution at the price of treasure and of manners. Nor did the Templar, an infidel of another stamp, justly characterise his associate when he said Frondeboeff could assign no cause for his unbelief and contempt for the established faith, for the baron would have alleged that the church sold her wares too dear. that the spiritual freedom which she put up to sale was only to be bought, like that of the chief captain of Jerusalem, with a great sum. And Frondeboeuf preferred denying the virtue of the medicine to paying the expense of the physician.
But the moment had now arrived when earth and all his treasures were gliding from before his eyes, and when the savage baron's heart, though hard as a nether millstone, became appalled as he gazed forward into the waste darkness of futurity. The fever of his body aided the impatience and agony of his mind, and his death-bed exhibited a mixture of the newly awakened feelings of horror, combating with the fixed and inveterate obstinacy of his disposition, a fearful state of mind, only to be equalled in those tremendous regions where there are complaints without hope. Remorse without repentance, a dreadful sense of present agony, and a presentiment that it cannot cease or be diminished. "'Where be these dog-priests now?' growled the baron, who set such price on their ghostly mummery.
Where be ye all those unshod Carmelites, for whom old Frondeboe founded the convent of St. Anne, robbing his heir of many a fair rood of meadow, and many a fat field and close? Where be the greedy hounds now? Swilling, I warrant me, at the ale, or playing their juggling tricks at the bedside of some miserly churl? Me, the heir of their founder? Me, whom their foundation binds them to pray for, me, ungrateful villains as they are, they suffer to die like the houseless dog on yonder common, unshriven and unhouseled. Tell the Templar to come hither. He's a priest and may do something. But no, as well confess myself to the devil as to Brian de Bois-Gilbert, who recks neither of heaven nor of hell.
I have heard old men talk of prayer, prayer by their own voice. Such need not to court or to bribe the false priest. But I—I dare not. Lives Reginald from the birth. said a broken and shrill voice close by his bedside, to say that there is that which he dares not. The evil conscience and the shaken nerves of Fronderboeuf heard, in this strange interruption to his soliloquy, the voice of one of those demons, who, as the superstition of the times believed, Beset the beds of dying men to distract their thoughts, and turn them from the meditations which concern their eternal welfare. He shuddered and drew himself together. But instantly summoning up his wonted resolution, he exclaimed, "'Who is there?
What art thou that darest to echo my words in a tone like that of the night-raven? Come before my couch, that I may see thee.' "'I am thine evil angel, Reginald Fronder Boerth,' replied the voice. "'Let me behold thee then in thy bodily shape, if thou beest indeed a fiend,' replied the dying knight. "'Think not that I will blench from thee.' By the eternal dungeon could I but grapple with these horrors that hover round me, as I have done with mortal dangers. Heaven or Hell should never say that I shrunk from the conflict. Think on thy sins, Reginald Fronder Boeuf, said the almost unearthly voice, on rebellion, on rapine, on murder. Who stirred up the licentious John to war against his grey-headed father, against his generous brother?
Be thou fiend, priest, or devil, replied Fronderboeuf. Thou liest in thy throat. Not I stirred John to rebellion. Not I alone. There were fifty knights and barons, the flower of the Midland counties. Better men never laid Lance in rest. And must I answer for the fault done by fifty? False fiend, I defy thee. Depart and haunt my couch no more. Let me die in peace if thou be mortal. If thou be a demon, thy time is not yet come. In peace thou shalt not die, repeated the voice. Even in death shalt thou think on thy murders. On the groans which this castle has echoed, on the blood that is ingrained in its flaws. "'Thou canst not shake me by thy petty malice,' answered Fronteboeuf, with a ghastly and constrained laugh.
"'The infidel Jew! It was merit with heaven to deal with him as I did, else wherefore are men canonized who dip their hands in the blood of Saracens?' The Saxon porkers whom I have slain, they were the foes of my country, and of my lineage, and of my liege-lord. Oh, thou seest there is no crevice in my coat of plate. Art thou fled? Art thou silenced? No, foul parricide, replied the voice. Think of thy father. Think of his death, think of his banquet-room, flooded with his gore, and that poured forth by the hand of a son.
Ha! answered the baron, after a long pause. An thou knowest that, thou art indeed the author of evil, and as omniscient as the monks call thee. That secret I deemed locked in my own breast, And in that of one besides, the temptress, the partaker of my guilt. Go, leave me, fiend, and seek the Saxon witch Ulrika, who alone could tell thee what she and I alone witnessed. Go, I say to her, who washed the wounds and straighted the corpse, and gave to the slain man the outward show of one parted in time and in the course of nature. Go to her. She was my temptress, the foul provoker, the more foul rewarder of the deed. Let her as well as I taste of the tortures which anticipate hell. She already tastes them, said Ulrika, stepping before the couch of Fronderboeuf.
She hath long drunken of this cup. And its bitterness is now sweetened to see that thou dost partake it. Grind not thy teeth, front of earth. Roll not thine eyes, clench not thine hand, nor shake it at me with that gesture of menace. The hand, which, like that of thy renowned ancestor who gained thy name, could have broken with one stroke the skull of a mountain bull, is now unnerved and powerless as mine own. "'Vile, murderous hag,' replied Frondeboeuf. "'Detestable screech-owl! It is then thou who art come to exult over the ruins thou hast assisted to lay low.' "'Ay, Reginald Frondeboeuf,' answered she, "'it is Ulrika. It is the daughter of the murdered Torquil Wolfganger. It is the sister of his slaughtered sons.' It is she who demands of thee and of thy father's house, father and kindred, name and fame, all that she has lost by the name of Fronteberth.
Think of my wrongs, Fronteberth, and answer me if I speak not truth. Thou hast been my evil angel, and I will be thine. I will dog thee till the very instant of dissolution. "'Detestable fury!' exclaimed Fontebuf. "'That moment shalt thou never witness. Ho! Giles, Clement, and Eustace! St. Marre and Stephen, seize this damned witch and hurl her from the battlements headlong! She has betrayed us to the Saxon. Ho! St. Marre, Clement! False-hearted knaves, where tarry ye?' Call on them again, valiant Baron, said the hag, with a smile of grisly mockery. Summon thy vassals around thee. Doom them that loiter to the scourge and the dungeon. But no, mighty chief," she continued, suddenly changing her tone, "'thou shalt have neither answer nor aid nor obedience at their hands.' Listen to these horrid sounds.
For the din of the recommenced assault and defence now rung fearfully loud from the battlements of the castle. In that war-cry is the downfall of thy house. The blood-cemented fabric of Fronderberth's power totters to the foundation and before the foes he most despised. The Saxon, Reginald, the scorned Saxon assails thy walls. Why liest thou here like a worn-out hind, when the Saxon storms thy place of strength? Gods and fiends, exclaimed the wounded knight. Oh, for one moment's strength to drag myself to the melee and perish as becomes my name. Think not of it, valiant warrior, replied she. Thou shalt die no soldier's death. But perish like the fox in his den when the peasants have set fire to the cover around it.
"'Hateful hag! Thou liest!' exclaimed Frondeboe. "'My followers bear them bravely. My walls are strong and high. My comrades-in-arms fear not a whole host of Saxons, where they headed by Hengist and Horsa.' The war-cry of the Templar and of the Free Companions rises high over the conflict, and, by mine honor, when we kindle the blazing beacon for joy of our defense, it shall consume thee, body and bones, and I shall live to hear thou art gone from earthly fires to those of Hell, which never sent forth an incarnate fiend more utterly diabolical. Hold thy belief. replied Ulrike, till the proof reach thee. But, no, she said, interrupting herself. Thou shalt know even now the doom which all thy power, strength, and courage is unable to avoid, though it is prepared for thee by this feeble band.
Markest thou the smouldering and suffocating vapour which already eddies in sable folds through the chamber? Didst thou think it was but the darkening of thy bursting eyes, the difficulty of thy cumbered breathing? No, Frant de Boeuf, there is another cause. Rememberest thou the magazine of fuel that is stored beneath these apartments? Woman! he exclaimed with fury. Thou hast not set fire to it. By heaven, thou hast! And the castle is in flames! They are fast rising, at least, said Ulrike, with frightful composure, and a signal shall soon wave to warn the besiegers to press hard upon those who would extinguish them. Farewell, Fronteboeuf. May Mr. Skogula and Zernabok, gods of the ancient Saxons, fiends, as the priests now call them, Supply the place of comforters at your dying bed, which Ulrika now relinquishes.
But know, if it will give thee comfort to know it, that Ulrika is bound to the same dark coast with thyself, the companion of thy punishment as the companion of thy guilt. And now, Parricide, farewell forever. May each stone of this vaulted roof find a tongue to echo that title into thine ear. So saying, she left the apartment, and Fronteboeuf could hear the crash of the ponderous key as she locked and double-locked the door behind her, thus cutting off the most slender chance of escape. In the extremity of agony, he shouted upon his servants and allies, Stephen and St. Moore! Clement and Giles. I burn here unaided. To the rescue, to the rescue, brave Bois-Gilbert, valiant de Bracy. It is Rondeboeuf who calls.
It is your master, ye traitor squires, your ally, your brother in arms, ye Perjured and faithless knights, all the curses due to traitors upon your recreant heads. Do you abandon me to perish thus miserably? They hear me not. They cannot hear me. My voice is lost in the din of battle. The smoke rolls thicker and thicker. The fire is caught upon the floor below. Oh, for one draught of the air of heaven, were it to be purchased by instant annihilation. And in the mad frenzy of despair, the wretch now shouted with the shouts of the fighters, now muttered curses on himself, on mankind, and on heaven itself. The red fire flashes through the thick smoke, he exclaimed. The demon marches against me under the banner of his own element.
Foul spirit, avoid! I go not with thee without my comrades. All, all are thine that garrison these walls. Thinkest thou Frant de Boeuf will be singled out to go alone? No. The infidel Templar, the licentious de Bracy, Ulrica, the foul, murdering Strumpet, the men who aided my enterprises, the dog-Saxons and accursed Jews who were my prisoners—all, all shall attend me, a goodly fellowship as ever took the downward road.
And he laughed in his frenzy till the vaulted roof rang again. "'Who laughed there?' exclaimed vonderboe, in altered mood, for the noise of the conflict did not prevent the echoes of his own mad laughter from returning upon his ear. "'Who laughed there?' Ulrika, was it thou? Speak, witch, and I forgive thee, for only thou or the fiend of hell himself could have laughed at such a moment. A vaunt! Avant!
But it were impious to trace any farther the picture of the blasphemer and parricide's death-bed.
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31 31 - Chapter 31 36:29
Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more, or close up the wall with our English dead. And you, good yeoman, whose limbs were made in England, show us here the metal of your pasture. Let us swear that you are worth your breeding. Taken from King Henry V.
Cedric, although not greatly confident in Ulrica's message, omitted not to communicate her promise to the Black Knight and Loxley. They were well pleased to find they had a friend within the place, who might, in the moment of need, be able to facilitate their entrance, and readily agreed with the Saxon that a storm, under whatever disadvantages, ought to be attempted, as the only means of liberating the prisoners now in the hands of the cruel Frondlebeuf. "'The royal blood of Alfred is endangered,' said Cedric. "'The honor of a noble lady is in peril.' said the black knight. "'And by the St. Christopher at my Baldrick,' said the good yeoman, "'were there no other cause than the safety of that poor faithful knave, Wamba, I would jeopard a joint ere a hair of his head were hurt.' "'And so would I,' said the friar.
"'What, sirs? I trust well that a fool—' I mean, do you see me, sirs?' A fool that is free of his guild and master of his craft, and can give as much relish and flavor to a cup of wine as ever a flitch of baking can. I say, brethren, such a fool shall never want a wise clerk to pray for, or to fight for him at a street, while I can say a mess, or flourish a partisan. And with that he made his heavy halberd to play around his head, as a shepherd boy flourishes his light crook. "'True, holy clerk,' said the black knight, "'true as if St. Dunstan himself had said it. And now, good lucksley, were it not well that noble Cedric should assume the direction of this assault?' "'Not a jot, aye,' returned Cedric.
"'I have never been wont to study either how to take or how to hold out those abodes of tyrannic power which the Normans have erected in this groaning land.' I will fight among the foremost, but my honest neighbors well know I am not a trained soldier in the discipline of wars or the attack of strongholds. Since it stands thus with noble Cedric, said Locksley, I am most willing to take on me the direction of the archery, And ye shall hang me up on my own trysting-tree, and the defenders be permitted to show themselves over the walls without being stuck with as many shafts as there are cloves and a gammon of bacon at Christmas. Well said, stout yeoman, answered the black knight. And if I be thought worthy to have a charge in these matters, and can find among these brave men as many as are willing to follow a true English knight, for so I may surely call myself, I am ready, with such skill as my experience has taught me, to lead them to the attack of these walls.
The parts being thus distributed to the leaders, they commenced the first assault, of which the reader has already heard the issue. When the Barbican was carried, the Sable Knight sent notice of the happy event to Locksley, requesting him at the same time To keep such a strict observation on the castle as might prevent the defenders from combining their force for a sudden sally, and recovering the outwork which they had lost. This the knight was chiefly desirous of avoiding, conscious that the men whom he led, being hasty and untrained volunteers, imperfectly armed, and unaccustomed to discipline, must, upon any sudden attack, Fight at great disadvantage with the veteran soldiers of the Norman Knights, who were well provided with arms both defensive and offensive, and who, to match the zeal and high spirit of the besiegers, had all the confidence which arises from perfect discipline and the habitual use of weapons.
The Knight employed the interval in causing to be constructed a sort of floating bridge, or long raft, By means of which he hoped to cross the moat in despite of the resistance of the enemy. This was a work of some time, which the leaders the less regretted, as it gave Ulrica leisure to execute her plan of diversion in their favor, whatever that might be. When the raft was completed, the Black Knight addressed the besiegers. "'It avails not, waiting here longer, my friends. The sun is descending in the west.' And I have that upon my hands which will not permit me to tarry with you another day. Besides, it will be a marvel if the horsemen come not upon us from York, unless we speedily accomplish our purpose.
Wherefore, one of ye go to Locksley, and bid him commence a discharge of arrows on the opposite side of the castle, and move forward as if about to assault it, and you, true English hearts, stand by me, and be ready to thrust the raft endlong over the moat whenever the postern on our side is thrown open. Follow me boldly across, and aid me to burst yon sally-port in the main wall of the castle. As many of you as like not the service, or are but ill-armed to meet it, do you man the top of the outwork, draw your bow-strings to your ears, and mind you quell with your shot. Whatever shall appear to man the rampart. Noble Cedric, wilt thou take the direction of those which remain? No, not so, by the soul of Herward, said the Saxon.
Lead I cannot, but may posterity curse me in my grave, if I follow not with the foremost, wherever thou shalt point the way. The quarrel is mine, and well it becomes me to be in the van of the battle. Yet, bethink thee, noble Saxon, said the knight, thou hast neither hauberk nor corslet, nor aught but that light helmet, target, and sword. The better, answered Cedric. I shall be the lighter to climb these walls, and—forgive the boast, sir knight—thou shalt this day see the naked breast of a Saxon as boldly presented to the battle as ever ye beheld the steel corslet of a Norman. "'In the name of God, then,' said the knight, "'fling open the door, and launch the floating bridge!' The portal, which led from the inner wall of the barbican to the moat, and which corresponded with a sally-port in the main wall of the castle, was now suddenly opened.
The temporary bridge was then thrust forward, and soon flashed in the waters, extending its length between the castle and the outwork, and forming a slippery and precarious passage for two men abreast to cross the moat. Well aware of the importance of taking the foe by surprise, the Black Knight, closely followed by Cedric, threw himself upon the bridge, and reached the opposite side. Here he began to thunder with his axe upon the gate of the castle, Protected in part from the shot and stones cast by the defenders by the ruins of the former drawbridge, which the Templar had demolished in his retreat from the Barbican, leaving the counterpoise still attached to the upper part of the portal. The followers of the night had no such shelter.
Two were instantly shot with crossbow bolts, and two more fell into the moat. The others retreated back into the Barbican. The situation of Cedric and of the Black Knight was now truly dangerous, and would have been still more so, but for the constancy of the archers in the Barbican, who ceased not to shower their arrows upon the battlements, distracting the attention of those by whom they were manned, and thus affording a respite to their two chiefs from the storm of missiles which must otherwise have overwhelmed them. But their situation was eminently perilous, and was becoming more so with every moment. "'Shame on you all!' cried de Bracy to the soldiers around him. "'Do ye call yourselves crossbowmen, and let these two dogs keep their station under the walls of the castle?
Heave over the coping-stones from the battlements, and better may not be. Get pickaxe and levers, and down with that huge pinnacle!' Pointing to a heavy piece of stone carved work that projected from the parapet. At this moment the besiegers caught sight of the red flag upon the angle of the tower which Ulrica had described to Cedric. The stout yeoman Locksley was the first who was aware of it, as he was hasting to the outwork, impatient to see the progress of the assault. St. George! he cried. Merry St. George for England! To the charge, bold yeoman! Why leave ye the good knight and noble Cedric to storm the pass alone? Make in, mad priest! Show thou canst fight for thy rosary! Make in, brave yeoman!
The castle is ours! We have friends within! See, under flag, it is the appointed signal! Torquil's stone is ours! Think of honor! Think of spoil! One effort, and the place is ours! With that he bent his good bow, and sent a shaft right through the breast of one of the men-at-arms, who, under de Bracy's direction, was loosening a fragment from one of the battlements to precipitate on the heads of Cedric and the Black Knight. A second soldier caught from the hands of the dying man, the Iron Crow, with which he heaved at and had loosened the stone pinnacle. when, receiving an arrow through his headpiece, he dropped from the battlements into the moat a dead man. The men-at-arms were daunted, for no armor seemed proof against the shot of this tremendous archer.
"'Do ye give ground-base knaves?' said de Bracy. "'Mountjoy St. Denis, give me the lever!' And snatching it up, he again assailed the loosened pinnacle, which was of weight enough, if thrown down, Not only to have destroyed the remnant of the drawbridge, which sheltered the two foremost assailants, but also to have sunk the rude float of planks over which they had crossed. All saw the danger, and the boldest, even the stout friar himself, avoided setting foot on the raft. Thrice did Loxley bend his shaft against Debracy, and thrice did his arrow bound back from the knight's armor of proof. Curse on thy Spanish steel coat," said Locksley. Had English Smith forged it, these arrows had gone through, and as if it had been silk or sendal.
He then began to call out, "'Comrades! Friends! Noble Cedric, bear back, and let the ruin fall!' His warning voice was unheard, for the din which the knight himself occasioned by his strokes upon the postern would have drowned twenty war trumpets. The faithful girth indeed sprung forward on the planked bridge, to warn Cedric of his impending fate, or to share it with him. But his warning would have come too late, the massive pinnacle already tottered, and de Bracy, who still heaved at his task, would have accomplished it, had not the voice of the Templar sounded close in his ears, "'All is lost, de Bracy. The castle burns!' "'Thou art mad to say so,' replied the knight. It is all in a light flame on the western side.
I have striven in vain to extinguish it. With a stern coolness which formed the basis of his character, Brian de Bois-Gilbert communicated this hideous intelligence, which was not so calmly received by his astonished comrade. Saints of Paradise, said de Bracy. What is to be done? I vow to Saint Nicholas of Limoges a candlestick of pure gold. Spare thy vow," said the Templar, and mark me. Lead thy men down, as if to a sally. Throw the postern gate open. There are but two men, who occupy the float. Fling them into the moat and push across for the Barbican. I will charge from the main gate and attack the Barbican on the outside, and if we can regain that post, be assured we shall defend ourselves until we are relieved, or at least till they grant us fair quarter.
"'It is well thought upon,' said de Bracy. "'I will play my part. Templer, wilt thou not fail me?' "'Hand and glove, I will not,' said Bois-Gilbert. "'But haste thee, in the name of God!' "'De Bracy hastily drew his men together, and rushed down to the postern gate, which he caused instantly to be thrown open. But scarce was this done ere the portentous strength of the Black Knight forced his way inward in despite of de Bracy and his followers. Two of the foremost instantly fell, and the rest gave way notwithstanding all their leader's efforts to stop them. Dogs! said de Bracy. Will you let two men win our only pass for safety? He is the devil! said a veteran man-at-arms, bearing back from the blows of their sable antagonist.
"'And if he be the devil,' replied de Bracy, "'would you fly from him into the mouth of hell? The castle burns behind us, villains. Let despair give you courage, or let me forward. I will cope with this champion myself.' And well and chivalrous did de Bracy that day maintain the fame he had acquired in the civil wars of that dreadful period. The vaulted passage to which the postern gave entrance, and in which these two redoubted champions were now fighting hand to hand, rung with the furious blows which they dealt each other, de Bracy with his sword, the Black Knight with his ponderous axe. At length the Norman received a blow which— Though its force was partly parried by his shield, for otherwise never more would de Bracey have again moved limb, descended yet with such violence on his crest that he measured his length on the paved floor.
"'Yield thee, de Bracey,' said the black champion, stooping over him, and holding against the bars of his helmet the fatal pawn-yard with which the knights dispatched their enemies, and which was called the Dagger of Mercy. "'Yield thee, Morris de Bracy, rescue or no rescue, or thou art but a dead man.' "'I will not yield,' replied de Bracy faintly, "'to an unknown conqueror. Tell me thy name, or work thy pleasure on me. It shall never be said that Morris de Bracy was prisoner to a nameless churl.' The black knight whispered something into the ear of the vanquished. I yield me to be true prisoner. Rescue or no rescue, answered the norman, exchanging his tone of stern and determined obscenity for one of deep, though sullen, submission.
Go to the Barbican, said the victor, in a tone of authority, and there await my further orders. Yet first let me say, said de Bracy, what it imports thee to know. Wilfred of Ivanhoe is wounded and a prisoner, and will perish in the burning castle without present help." "'Wilfred of Ivanhoe!' exclaimed the black knight. "'Prisoner? And perish! The life of every man in the castle shall answer if a hair of his head be singed. Show me his chamber!' "'A se'n yonder winding stair,' said de Bracy. "'It leads to his apartment.' Wilt thou not accept my guidance?" he added in a submissive voice. "'No, to the Barbican, and there await my orders. I trust thee not, de Bracy.' During this combat and the brief conversation which ensued, Cedric, at the head of a body of men, among whom the friar was conspicuous, had pushed across the bridge as soon as they saw the postern open.
and drove back the dispirited and despairing followers of de Bracy, of whom some asked quarter, some offered vain resistance, and the greater part fled towards the courtyard. De Bracy himself arose from the ground, and cast a sorrowful glance after his conqueror. "'He trusts me not,' he repeated. "'But have I deserved his trust?' He then lifted his sword from the floor. took off his helmet in token of submission, and, going to the Barbican, gave up his sword to Locksley, whom he met by the way. As the fire augmented, symptoms of it became soon apparent in the chamber, where Ivanhoe was watched and tended by the Jewess Rebekah. He had been awakened from his brief slumber by the noise of the battle, and his attendant, who had, at his anxious desire, again placed herself at the window to watch and report to him the fate of the attack, was for some time prevented from observing either by the increase of the smouldering and stifling vapor.
At length the volumes of smoke which rolled into the apartment, the cries for water which were heard even above the din of the battle, made them sensible of the progress of this new danger. "'The castle burns,' said Rebekah. "'It burns! What can we do to save ourselves?' "'Fly, Rebekah, and save thine own life,' said Ivanhoe, "'for no human aid can avail me.'" "'I will not fly,' answered Rebekah. "'We will be saved or perish together. And yet, great God! My father, my father, what will be his fate?' At this moment the door of the apartment flew open, and the Templar presented himself, a ghastly figure, for his gilded armor was broken and bloody, and the plume was partly shorn away, partly burnt from his cask.
"'I have found thee,' said he to Rebekah. "'Thou shalt prove I will keep my word to share weal and woe with thee.' There is but one path to safety. I have cut my way through fifty dangers to point it to thee. Up, and instantly follow me. Alone, answered Rebekah. I will not follow thee. If thou wert born of woman, if thou hast but a touch of human charity in thee, if thy heart be not hard as thy breastplate, save my aged father, save this wounded knight. A knight? answered the Templar with his characteristic calmness. A knight, Rebekah, must encounter his fate, whether it meet him in the shape of sword or flame, and who recks how or where a Jew meets with his. Savage warrior, said Rebekah, rather will I perish in the flames than accept safety from thee.
Thou shalt not choose, Rebekah. Once didst thou foil me, but never mortal did so twice. So saying, he seized on the terrified maiden, who filled the air with her shrieks, and bore her out of the room in his arms in spite of her cries, and without regarding the menaces and defiances which Ivanhoe thundered against him. Hound of the temple, stain to thine order, set free the damsel, traitor of Bois-Jubert, it is Ivanhoe commands thee. Villain, I will have thy heart's blood.
"'I had not found thee, Wilfred,' said the black knight, who at that instant entered the apartment, "'but for thy shouts!' "'If thou'st be true knight,' said Wilfred, "'think not of me. Pursue yon ravisher, save the Lady Rowena. Look to the noble Cedric.' "'In their turn,' answered he of the fetterlock, "'but thine is first.' And seizing upon Ivanhoe, he bore him off with as much ease as the Templar had carried off Rebecca, rushed with him to the postern, and having there delivered his burden to the care of two yeomen, he again entered the castle to assist in the rescue of the other prisoners. One turret was now in bright flames, which flashed out furiously from window and shot-hole. But in other parts, the great thickness of the walls and the vaulted roofs of the apartments resisted the progress of the flames, and there the rage of man still triumphed, as the scarce more dreadful element held mastery elsewhere.
For the besiegers besued the defenders of the castle from chamber to chamber, and satiated in their blood the vengeance which had long animated them against the soldiers of the tyrant Front de Boeuf. Most of the garrison resisted to the uttermost. Few of them asked quarter. None received it. The air was filled with groans and clashing of arms. The floors were slippery with the blood of despairing and expiring wretches. Through this scene of confusion, Cedric rushed in quest of Rowena, while the faithful Girth, following him closely through the melee, Neglected his own safety while he strove to avert the blows that were aimed at his master. The noble Saxon was so fortunate as to reach his ward's apartment just as she had abandoned all hope of safety, and, with a crucifix clasped in agony to her bosom, sat in expectation of instant death.
He committed her to the charge of Girth, to be conducted in safety to the Barbican. The road to which was now cleared of the enemy, and not yet interrupted by the flames. This accomplished, the loyal Cedric, hastened in quest of his friend Athelstane, determined, at every risk to himself, to save that last scion of Saxon royalty. But ere Cedric penetrated as far as the old hall in which he had himself been a prisoner, the inventive genius of Wamba had procured liberation for himself and his companion in adversity. When the noise of the conflict announced that it was at the hottest, the jester began to shout, with the utmost power of his lungs, St. George and the Dragon, bonnie St. George for Merry England, the castle is won!
And these sounds he rendered yet more fearful by banging against each other two or three pieces of rusty armor which lay scattered around the hall. A guard, which had been stationed in the outer or ante-room, and whose spirits were already in a state of alarm, took fright at Wamba's clamor, and, leaving the door open behind them, ran to tell the Templar that foemen had entered the old hall. Meantime the prisoners found no difficulty in making their escape into the ante-room, and from thence into the court of the castle, which was now the last scene of contest. Here sat the fierce Templar, mounted on horseback, surrounded by several of the garrison both on horse and foot, who had united their strength to that of this renowned leader in order to secure the last chance of safety and retreat which remained to them.
The drawbridge had been lowered by his orders, but the passage was beset. For the archers, who had hitherto only annoyed the castle on that side by their missiles, no sooner saw the flames breaking out and the bridge lowered than they thronged to the entrance, as well to prevent the escape of the garrison as to secure their own share of booty ere the castle should be burnt down. On the other hand, a party of the besiegers who had entered by the postern was now issuing out into the courtyard, and attacking with fury, The remnant of the defenders who were thus assaulted on both sides at once. Animated, however, by despair, and supported by the example of their indomitable leader, the remaining soldiers of the castle fought with the utmost valour, and, being well armed, succeeded more than once in driving back the assailants, though much inferior in numbers.
Rebekah. Placed on horseback before one of the Templar's Saracen slaves, was in the midst of the little party, and Bois-Gilbert, notwithstanding the confusion of the bloody fray, showed every attention to her safety. Repeatedly he was by her side, and, neglecting his own defense, held before her the fence of his triangular steel-plated shield, and anon, starting from his position by her, he cried his war-cry, dashed forward, Struck to earth the most forward of the assailants, and was on the same instant once more at her bridal reign. Athelstane, who, as the reader knows, was slothful, but not cowardly, beheld the female form which the Templar protected thus sedulously, and doubted not that it was Rowena whom the knight was carrying off, in despite of all resistance which could be offered.
"'By the soul of St. Edward,' he said, I will rescue her from yonder over-proud knight, and he shall die by my hand. Think what you do, cried Wamba. Hasty hand catches frog for fish. By my bauble, yonder is none of my lady Rowena. See but her long dark locks. Nay, and ye will not know black from white. Ye may be leader, but I will be no follower. No bones of mine shall be broken unless I know for whom. "'And you without armor too? Bethink you, silk bonnet never kept out steel blade. Nay, then, if willful will to water, willful must drench. Deus phubiscum, most doughty Athelstain,' he concluded, loosening the hold which he had hitherto kept upon the Saxon's tunic. To snatch a mace from the pavement, on which it lay beside one whose dying grasp had just relinquished it, to rush on the Templar's band, and to strike in quick succession to the right and left, leveling a warrior at each blow, was, for Athelstane's great strength, now animated with unusual fury, but the work of a single moment.
He was soon within two yards of Bois-Gilbert, whom he defied in his loudest tone. Turn, false-hearted Templer! Let her go, whom thou art unworthy to touch! Turn, limb of a hand of murdering and hypocritical robbers! Dog!" said the Templer, grinding his teeth. "'I will teach thee to blaspheme the holy order of the Temple of Zion!' And with these words, half-wheeling his steed, He made a demi-curbet towards the saxon, and, rising in the stirrups so as to take full advantage of the descent of the horse, he discharged a fearful blow upon the head of Athelstane. Well said, Wamba, that Silken Bonnet keeps out no steel blade. So trenchant was the Templar's weapon that it shore asunder as it had been a willow-twig, the tough and plaited handle of the mace, which the ill-fated Saxon reared to parry the blow, and, descending on his head, levelled him with the earth.
Ha! Beaux-saint! exclaimed Bois-gilbert. Thus be it to the maligners of the Temple Knights! Taking advantage of the dismay which was spread by the fall of Athelstane, and calling aloud, "'Those who would save themselves, follow me!' He pushed across the drawbridge, dispersing the archers who would have intercepted them. He was followed by his Saracens and some five or six men-at-arms, who had mounted their horses. The Templar's retreat was rendered perilous by the numbers of arrows shot off at him and his party, but this did not prevent him from galloping round to the Barbican, Of which, according to his previous plan, he supposed it possible de Bracy might have been in possession. De Bracy! De Bracy!
He shouted. Art thou there? I am here, replied de Bracy, but I am a prisoner. Can I rescue thee? cried Brois-Gilbert. No, replied de Bracy. I have rendered me, rescue or no rescue. I will be true prisoner. Save thyself. There are hawks abroad. Put the seas betwixt you and England. I dare not say more." Well, answered the Templar, and thou wilt tarry there. Remember I have redeemed word and glove. Be the hawks where they will. Methinks the walls of the preceptory of Templestowe will be cover sufficient, and thither will I, like Heron to her haunt. Having thus spoken, he galloped off with his followers. Those of the castle who had not gotten to horse still continued to fight desperately with the besiegers after the departure of the Templar, but rather in despair of quarter than that they entertained any hope of escape.
The fire was spreading rapidly through all parts of the castle when Ulrike, who had first kindled it, appeared on a turret in the guise of one of the ancient Furies, yelling forth a war-song such as was of yore raised on the field of battle by the scalds of the yet heathen Saxons. Her long, disheveled gray hair flew back from her uncovered head. The inebriating delight of gratified vengeance contended in her eyes with the fire of insanity. And she brandished the distaff which she held in her hand, as if she had been one of the fatal sisters, who spin and abridge the threat of human life. Tradition has preserved some wild strophes of the barbarous hymn which she chanted wildly amid that scene of fire and of slaughter.
Verse One. Whet the bright steel, sons of the white dragon, kindle the torch, daughter of Hengist. The steel glimmers not for the carving of the banquet. It is hard, broad, and sharply pointed. The torch goeth not to the bridal chamber. It steams and glitters blue with sulfur. Wet the steel. The raven croaks. Light the torch. Xernobach is yelling. Wet the steel, sons of the dragon. Kindle the torch, daughter of Hengist. Verse 2. The black cloud is low over the thane's castle. The eagle screams. He rides on its bosom. Scream not, gray rider of the sable cloud. Thy banquet is prepared. The maidens of Valhalla look forth. The race of Hengist will send them guests. Shake your black tresses, maidens of Valhalla, and strike your loud timbrels for joy.
Many a haughty step bends to your halls. Many a helmed head.
Dark sits the evening upon the thanes' castle. The black clouds gather round. Soon shall they be red as the blood of the valiant. The destroyer of forests shall shake his red crest against them. He, the bright consumer of palaces, broad waves he, his blazing banner, red, wide, and dusky, over the strife of the valiant. His joy is in the clashing swords and broken bucklers. He loves to lick the hissing blood as it bursts warm from the wound.
All must perish. The sword cleaveth the helmet. The strong armor is pierced by the lance. Fire devoureth the dwelling of princes. Injins break down the fences of the battle. All must perish. The race of Hengist is gone, the name of Horsa is no more. Shrink not then from your doom, sons of the sword. Let your blades drink blood like wine. Feast ye in the banquet of slaughter by the light of the blazing halls. Strong be your swords while your blood is warm, and spare neither for pity nor fear, for vengeance hath but an hour. Strong hate itself shall expire. I also must perish.
The towering flames had now surmounted every obstruction, and rose to the evening skies one huge and burning beacon, seen far and wide through the adjacent country. Tower after tower crashed down, with blazing roof and rafter, and the combatants were driven from the courtyard. The Vanquished, of whom very few remained, scattered and escaped into the neighboring wood. The victors, assembling in large bands, gazed with wonder, not unmixed with fear, upon the flames in which their own ranks and arms glanced dusky red. The maniac figure of the Saxon Ulrica was for a long time visible on the lofty stand she had chosen, tossing her arms abroad with wild exultation, As if she reigned empress of the conflagration which she had raised.
At length, with a terrific crash, the whole turret gave way, and she perished in the flames which had consumed her tyrant. An awful pause of horror silenced each murmur of the armed spectators, who, for the space of several minutes, stirred not a finger, save to sign the cross. The voice of Locksley was then heard. Shout, yeoman! The den of tyrants is no more! Let each bring his spoil to our chosen place of rendezvous, at the trysting tree in the Harthalwalk, for there at break of day will we make just partition among our own bands, together with our worthy allies, in this great deed of vengeance.
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Kingdoms have edicts, cities have their charters. Even the wild outlaw, in his forest walk, keeps yet some touch of civil discipline. For not since Adam wore his verdant apron hath man with man in social union dwelt, but laws were made to draw that union closer. Old Play. The daylight had dawned upon the glades of the oak forest. The green boughs glittered with all their pearls of dew. The hind led her fawn from the covert of high fern to the more open walks of the greenwood, and no huntsman was there to watch or intercept the stately heart as he paced at the head of the antlered herd. The outlaws were all assembled around the trysting-tree in the Harthill Walk, where they had spent the night in refreshing themselves after the fatigues of the siege, some with wine, some with slumber, many with hearing and recounting the events of the day, and computing the heaps of plunder which their success had placed at the disposal of their chief.
The spoils were indeed very large, for, notwithstanding that much was consumed, A great deal of plate, rich armor, and splendid clothing had been secured by the exertions of the dauntless outlaws, who could be appalled by no danger when such rewards were in view. Yet so strict were the laws of their society that no one ventured to appropriate any part of the booty which was brought into one common mass to be at the disposal of their leader. The place of rendezvous was an aged oak. Not, however, the same to which Locksley had conducted Girth and Wamba in the earlier part of the story, but one which was the centre of a sylvan amphitheatre within half a mile of the demolished castle of Torquilstone.
Here Locksley assumed his seat, a throne of turf erected under the twisted branches of the huge oak, and the sylvan followers were gathered around him. He assigned to the Black Knight a seat at his right hand, and to Cedric a place on his left. Pardon my freedom, noble sirs, he said, but in these glades I am monarch, they are my kingdom, and these my wild subjects would wreck but little of my power were I, within my own dominions, to yield place to mortal man. Now, sirs, who hath seen our chaplain? Where is our kirtle-friar? A mass amongst Christian men best begins a busy morning. No one had seen the clerk of Cotmanhurst. Over God's forebode, said the outlaw chief. I trust the jolly priest hath but abidden by the wine-pot a thought too late.
Who saw him since the castle was taken? Ay, quoth the miller, marked him busy about the door of a cellar, swearing by each saint in the calendar he would taste the smack of Front des Bufs Gascoigne wine. Now the saints, as many as there be of them, said the captain, forfend, lest he was drunk too deep of the wine-butts, and perished by the fall of the castle. Away, miller! Take with you, eno, of men. Seek the place where you last saw him. Throw water from the moat on the scorching ruins. I will have them removed stone by stone, ere I lose my kirtle friar. The numbers who hastened to execute this duty, considering that an interesting division of spoil was about to take place, showed how much the troop had at heart the safety of their spiritual father.
Meanwhile, let us proceed, said Locksley, for when this bold deed shall be sounded abroad, The bands of de Bracy, of Malvoisin, and other allies of Front de Boeuf, will be in motion against us, and it were well for our safety that we retreat from the vicinity. Noble Cedric, he said, turning to the Saxon, that spoil is divided into two portions. Do thou make choice of that which best suits thee, to recompense thy people who were partakers with us in this adventure? Good yeoman, said Cedric, my heart is oppressed with sadness. The noble Athelstane of Koningsburg is no more, the last sprout of the sainted confessor. Hopes have perished with him which can never return. A sparkle hath been quenched by his blood, which no human breath can again rekindle.
My people, save the few who are now with me, do but tarry my presence to transport his honored remains to their last mansion. The Lady Rowena is desirous to return to Rotherwood, and must be escorted by a sufficient force. I should therefore, ere now, have left this place, and I waited, not to share the booty, for, so help me God and Saint Withold, as neither I nor any of mine will touch the value of a leard, I waited but to render my thanks to thee, and to thy bold yeomen, for the life and honor ye have saved. Nay, but, said the chief outlaw, we did but half the work at most. Take of the spoil what may reward your own neighbors and followers. "'I am rich enough to reward them from mine own wealth,' answered Cedric.
"'And some,' said Wamba, "'have been wise enough to reward themselves. They do not march off empty-handed altogether. We do not all wear motley.' "'They are welcome,' said Locksley. "'Our laws bind none but ourselves.' "'But thou, my poor knave,' said Cedric, turning about and embracing his jester, "'how shall I reward thee, who feared not to give thy body to chains and death, instead of mine?' All forsook me when the poor fool was faithful. A tear stood in the eye of the rough thane as he spoke, a mark of feeling which even the death of athelstain had not extracted. But there was something in the half-instinctive attachment of his clown that waked his nature more keenly than even grief itself.
"'Nay,' said the jester, extricating himself from master's caress, "'if you pay my service with the water of your eye, The jester must weep for company, and then what becomes of his vocation? But, uncle, if you would indeed pleasure me, I pray you to pardon my playfellow, Girth, who stole a week from your service to bestow it on your son. Pardon him, exclaimed Cedric. I will both pardon and reward him. Kneel down, Girth. The swineherd was in an instant at his master's feet. Theo and Esnay art thou no longer, said Cedric, touching him with a wand. folk free and sackless art thou, in town and from town, in the forest as in the field. A hide of land I give to thee in my steads of Walbrougham, from me and mine, to thee and thine, aye and forever, and God's mailsen on his head, who this gainsays.
No longer a serf, but a freeman and a landholder, Girth sprung upon his feet, and twice bounded aloft to almost his own height from the ground. "'A smith and a phial,' he cried, to do away the collar from the neck of a freeman. "'Noble master, doubled is my strength by your gift, and doubly will I fight for you. There is a free spirit in my breast. I am a man changed to myself and all around.' "'Ha! fangs!' he continued, for that faithful cur, seeing his master thus transported, began to jump upon him to express his sympathy. "'Knowest thou thy master still?' "'Aye,' said Wamba, Fangs and I still know thee, Girth, though we must needs abide by the collar. It is only thou art likely to forget both us and thyself.
I shall forget myself indeed, ere I forget thee, true comrade," said Girth. And were freedom fit for thee, Wamba, the master would not let thee want it. Nay," said Wamba, never think I envy thee, brother Girth. The serf sits by the hall-fire, when the freeman must forth to the field of battle. And what saith Oldhelm of Malmesbury? Better a fool at a feast than a wise man at a fray. The tramp of horses was now heard, and the Lady Rowena appeared, surrounded by several riders, and a much stronger party of footmen, who joyfully shook their pikes and clashed their brown bills for joy of her freedom. She herself, richly attired, and mounted on a dark chestnut palfrey, had recovered all the dignity of her manner, and only an unwonted degree of paleness showed the sufferings she had undergone.
Her lovely brow, though sorrowful, bore on it a cast of reviving hope for the future, as well as of grateful thankfulness for the past deliverance. She knew that Ivanhoe was safe, and she knew that Athelstane was dead. The former assurance filled her with the most sincere delight, and if she did not absolutely rejoice at the latter, she might be pardoned for feeling the full advantage of being freed from further persecution on the only subject in which she had ever been contradicted by her guardian, Cedric. As Rowena bent her steed towards Locksley's seat, that bold yeoman, with all his followers, rose to receive her, as if by a general instinct of courtesy. The blood rose to her cheeks, as, courteously waving her hand, and bending so low that her beautiful and loose tresses were for an instant mixed with the flowing mane of her palfrey, she expressed in few but apt words her obligations and her gratitude to Locksley and her other deliverers.
God bless you, brave men, she concluded. God and Our Lady bless you and requite you for gallantly periling yourselves in the cause of the oppressed. If any of you should hunger, remember Rowena has food. If you should thirst, she has many a butt of wine and brown ale. And if the Normans drive ye from these walks, Rowena has forests of her own, where her gallant deliverers may range at full freedom, and never ranger ask whose arrow hath struck down the deer. Thanks, gentlelady, said Locksley. Thanks from my company and myself. But, to have saved you requites itself. We who walk the Greenwood do many a wild deed, and the Lady Rowena's deliverance may be received as an atonement. Again bowing from her palfrey, Rowena turned to depart.
But, pausing a moment, while Cedric, who was to attend her, was also taking his leave, she found herself unexpectedly close by the prisoner de Bracy. He stood under a tree in deep meditation, his arms crossed upon his breast, and Rowena was in hopes she might pass him unobserved. He looked up, however, and, when aware of her presence, a deep flush of shame suffused his handsome countenance. He stood a moment most irresolute, then, stepping forward, took her palfrey by the rein, and bent the knee before her. Will the Lady Rowena deign to cast an eye, on a captive knight, on a dishonored soldier? Sir Knight, answered Rowena, in enterprises such as yours, the real dishonor lies not in failure, but in success.
Conquest, lady, should soften the heart, answered de Bracey. Let me but know that the Lady Rowena forgives the violence occasioned by an ill-fated passion, and she shall soon learn that de Bracey knows how to serve her in nobler ways. I forgive you, Sir Knight, said Rowena, as a Christian. That means, said Wamba, that she does not forgive him at all. But I can never forgive the misery and desolation your madness has occasioned, continued Rowena. Unloose your hold on the lady's rein, said Cedric, coming up. By the bright sun above us, but it were shame, I would pin thee to the earth with my javelin. But be well assured, thou shalt smart, Maurice de Bracy, for thy share in this foul deed. He threatens safely who threatens a prisoner, said de Bracy, but when had a Saxon any touch of courtesy?
Then retiring two steps backward, he permitted the lady to move on. Cedric, ere they departed, expressed his peculiar gratitude to the black champion, and earnestly entreated him to accompany him to Rotherwood. I know, he said, that ye arrant knights desire to carry your fortunes on the point of your lands, and reck not of land or goods. But war is a changeful mistress, and a home is sometimes desirable even to the champion whose trade is wandering. Thou hast earned one in the halls of Rotherwood, noble knight. Cedric has wealth enough to repair the injuries of fortune, and all he has is his deliverers. Come, therefore, to Rotherwood, not as a guest, but as a son or brother. Cedric has already made me rich, said the knight.
He has taught me the value of Saxon virtue. To Rotherwood will I come, brave Saxon, and that speedily, but as now, pressing matters of moment, detain me from your halls. Peradventure, when I come hither, I will ask such a boon as will put even thy generosity to the test. It is granted, ere spoken out, said Cedric, striking his ready hand into the gauntleted palm of the black knight, it is granted already, were it to affect half my fortune. Gage not thy promise so lightly, said the knight of the fetterlock. Yet will I hope to gain the boon I shall ask. Meanwhile, adieu. I have but to say, added the Saxon, that, during the funeral rites of the noble Athelstain, I shall be an inhabitant of the halls of his castle of Konigsberg.
They will be open to all who choose to partake of the funeral banqueting, and, I speak in name of the noble Edith, mother of the fallen prince, They will never be shut against him who labored so bravely, though unsuccessfully, to save Athelstain from Norman Chains and Norman Steel. Ay, ay, said Wamba, who had resumed his attendance on his master. Rare feeding there will be. Pity that the noble Athelstain cannot banquet at his own funeral. But he, continued the jester, lifting up his eyes gravely, is supping in Paradise, and doubtless does honor to the cheer. Peace, and move on, said Cedric. His anger at this untimely jest being checked by the recollection of Wamba's recent services. Rowena waved a graceful adieu to him of the fetterlock, the Saxon bade Godspeed him, and on they moved through a wide glade of the forest.
They had scarce departed ere a sudden procession moved from under the greenwood branches, swept slowly round the Sylvan amphitheatre, and took the same direction with Rowena and her followers. The priests of a neighboring convent in expectation of the ample donation or solskat which Cedric had propined, attended upon the car in which the body of Athelstane was laid, and sang hymns as it was sadly and slowly borne on the shoulders of his vassals to his castle of Coningsburg, to be there deposited in the grave of Hengist, from whom the deceased derived his long descent. Many of his vassals had assembled at the news of his death, and followed the bier with all the external marks at least, of dejection and sorrow.
Again the outlaws arose, and paid the same rude and spontaneous homage to death which they had so lately rendered to beauty. The slow chant and mournful step of the priests brought back to their remembrance such of their comrades as had fallen in the yesterday's array. But such recollections dwell not long with those who lead a life of danger and enterprise, and ere the sound of the death hymn had died on the wind, the outlaws were again busied in the distribution of their spoil. Valiant knight, said Locksley, to the black champion, without whose good heart and mighty arm our enterprise must altogether have failed, will it please you to take from that mass of spoil whatever may best serve to pleasure you, and to remind you of this my trysting-tree?
I accept the offer, said the knight, as frankly as it is given, and I ask permission to dispose of Sir Maurice de Bracy at my own pleasure. He is thine already, said Locksley, and well for him. Else the tyrant had graced the highest bough of this oak, with as many of his free companions as we could gather, hanging thick as acorns around him. But he is thy prisoner, and he is safe, though he had slain my father. De Bracy, said the knight, thou art free, depart. He whose prisoner thou art scorns to make mean revenge for what is past. But beware of the future, lest a worse thing befall thee. Maurice de Bracy, I say, beware. De Bracy bowed low and in silence, and was about to withdraw, when the yeomen burst at once into a shout of execration and derision.
The proud knight instantly stopped, turned back, folded his arms, drew up his form to his full height, and exclaimed, Peace, ye yelping curs, who open upon a cry which ye followed not when the stag was at bay. De Bracy scorns your censure as he would disdain your applause. To your breaks and caves, ye outlawed thieves, And be silent when aught knightly or noble is but spoken within a league of your fox-earths. This ill-timed defiance might have procured for de Bracy a volley of arrows, but for the hasty and imperative interference of the outlaw chief. Meanwhile, the knight caught a horse by the rein, for several which had been taken in the stables of Font-de-Bouffe's stood accoutred around, and were a valuable part of the booty.
He threw himself upon the saddle, and galloped off through the wood. When the bustle occasioned by this incident was somewhat composed, the chief outlaw took from his neck the rich horn and baldric which he had recently gained at the Strife of Archery near Ashby. Noble knight, he said to him of the fetterlock, if you disdain not to grace by your acceptance a bugle which an English yeoman has once worn, this I will pray you to keep as a memorial of your gallant bearing, and if ye have aught to do, and as happeneth oft to a gallant knight, Ye chance to be hard-bested in any forest between Trent and Tees, wind three moths upon the horn thus, Wasahoa, and it may well chance ye shall find helpers and rescue.
He then gave breath to the bugle, and winded once and again the call which he described, until the knight had caught the notes. Gramercy for the gift, bold yeoman, said the knight, and better help the nine and thy rangers what I never seek were it at my utmost need. And then in his turn he winded the call till all the greenwood rang. "'Well blown and clearly,' said the yeoman. "'Beshrew me, and thou knowest not as much of woodcraft as of war. Thou hast been a striker of deer in thy day, I warrant. Comrades, mark these three moths. It is the call of the knight of the fetterlock. And he who hears it and hastens not to serve him at his need, I will have him scourged out of our band with his own bowstring.' "'Long live our leader!' shouted the yeoman.
And long live the black knight of the Federlock. May he soon use our service to prove how readily it will be paid. Locksley now proceeded to the distribution of the spoil, which he performed with the most laudable impartiality. A tenth part of the whole was set apart for the church, and for pious uses. A portion was next allotted to a sort of public treasury, A part was assigned to the widows and children of those who had fallen, or to be expended in masses, for the souls of such as had left no surviving family. The rest was divided amongst the outlaws, according to their rank and merit, and the judgment of the chief on all such doubtful questions as occurred was delivered with great shrewdness, and received with absolute submission.
The Black Knight was not a little surprised to find that men, in a state so lawless, were nevertheless among themselves so regularly and equitably governed, and all that he observed added to his opinion of the justice and judgment of their leader. When each had taken his own proportion of the booty, and while the treasurer, accompanied by four tall yeomen, was transporting that belonging to the state to some place of concealment or of security, the portion devoted to the church still remained unappropriated. "'I would,' said the leader. "'We could hear tidings of our joyous chaplain.' He was never wont to be absent when meat was to be blessed, or spoiled to be parted, and it is his duty to take care of these the tithes of our successful enterprise.
It may be the office has helped to cover some of his canonical irregularities. Also, I have a holy brother of his, a prisoner, at no great distance, and I would fain to have the friar to help me to deal with him in due sort. I greatly misdoubt the safety of the bluff priest. I were right sorry for that, said the knight of the fetterlock, for I stand indebted to him for the joyous hospitality of a merry knight in his cell. Let us to the ruins of the castle. It may be we shall there learn some tidings of him. While they thus spoke, a loud shout among the yeomen announced the arrival of him for whom they feared, as they learned from the centaurian voice of the friar himself, long before they saw his burly person.
Make room, my merry men, he exclaimed. Room for your godly father and his prisoner. Cry welcome once more. I come, noble leader, like an eagle with my prey in my clutch. And making his way through the ring amidst the laughter of all around, he appeared in majestic triumph, his huge partisan in one hand, and in the other a halter, one end of which was fastened to the neck of the unfortunate Isaac of York, who, bent down by sorrow and terror, was dragged on by the victorious priest, who shouted aloud, Where is Alana Dale to chronicle me in a ballad, or if it were but a lay? By St. Hermengild the jingling Crowder is ever out of the way, where there is an apt theme for exalting valor. Kirtle Priest, said the captain, Thou hast been at a wet mass this morning, as early as it is.
In the name of St. Nicholas, whom hast thou got here? A captive to my sword and to my lance, noble captain, replied the clerk of Kauffmanhurst. To my bow and to my halberd, I should rather say. And yet I have redeemed him by my divinity from a worse captivity. Speak, Jew, have I not ransomed thee from satanus? Have I not taught thee thy credo, thy potter, and thine ave maria? Did I not spend the whole night in drinking to thee, and in expounding of mysteries? For the love of God, ejaculated the poor Jew, will no one take me out of the keeping of this mad, I mean this holy man? How's this, Jew? said the friar, with a menacing aspect. Doest thou recant, Jew? Bethink thee, if thou dost relapse into thine infidelity, though thou art not so tender as a suckling pig.
I would I had one to break my fast upon. Thou art not so tough to be roasted. Be conformable, Isaac, and repeat the words after me. Ave Maria. Nay, we will have no profanation, mad priest, said Locksley. Let us rather hear where you found this prisoner of thine. By St. Dunstan, said the friar, I found him where I sought for better ware. I did step into the cellarage to see what might be rescued there, for though a cup of burnt wine with spice be an evening's draught for an emperor, it were waste, methought, to let so much good liquor be mauled at once. And I had caught up one runlet of sack, and was coming to call more aid among these lazy knaves, who are ever to seek when a good deed is to be done, When I was advised of a strong odor, Aha!
thought I, here is the choicest juice of all in this secret crypt, and the knave butler, being disturbed in his vocation, hath left the key in the door. In, therefore, I went, and found just naught besides a commodity of rusted chains and this dog of a Jew, who presently rendered himself my prisoner, rescue or no rescue. I did but refresh myself after the fatigue of the action with the unbeliever, with one humming cup of sack, and was proceeding to lead forth my captive, when, crash after crash, as with wild thunderdint and leavened fire, down toppled the masonry of an outer tower, merry-by shrew their hands that built it not the firmer, and blocked up the passage. The roar of one falling tower followed another.
I gave up thought of life, and, deeming it a dishonor to one of my profession to pass out of this world in company with a Jew, I heaved up my halberd to beat his brains out, but I took pity on his gray hairs, and judged it better to lay down the partisan and take up my spiritual weapon for his conversion. And truly, by the blessing of St. Dunstan, the seed has been sown in good soil. Only that, with speaking to him of mysteries through the whole night, and being in a manner fasting, for the few draughts of sack which I sharpened my wits with were not worth marking, my head is well-nigh-dizzied, I trow. But I was clean exhausted. Gilbert and Wibold know in what state they found me, quite and clean exhausted.
We can bear witness, said Gilbert, for when we had cleared away the ruin, and by St. Dunstan's help lighted upon the dungeon stair, we found the runlet of Sack half empty, the Jew half dead, and the friar more than half exhausted, as he calls it. Ye be knaves, ye lie, retorted the offended friar. It was you and your gormandizing companions that drank up the sack, and called it your morning draught. I am a pagan, and I kept it not for the captain's own throat. But what wrecks it? The Jew is converted, and understands all I have told him, very nearly, if not altogether, as well as myself. Jew, said the captain, is this true? Hast thou renounced thine unbelief? May I so find mercy in your eyes, said the Jew?
As I know not one word which the reverend prelate spake to me all this fearful night. Alas! I was so distraught with agony and fear and grief, that had our holy father Abraham come to preach to me, he had found but a deaf listener. "'Thou liest, Jew, and thou knowest thou dust,' said the friar. "'I will remind thee of but one word of our conference. Thou didst promise to give all thy substance to our holy order.' "'So help me the promise, fair sirs.' said Isaac, even more alarmed than before, as no such sounds ever crossed my lips. Alas, I am an aged, beggared man, I fear me a childless. Have Ruth on me, and let me go. Nay, said the friar, if thou dost retract vows made in favor of holy church, thou must do penance.
Accordingly, he raised his halberd, and would have laid the staff of it lustily on the Jews' shoulders, had not the black knight stopped the blow, and thereby transferred the holy clerk's resentment to himself. "'By St. Thomas of Kent,' said he, "'and I buckle to my gear, I will teach thee, Sir Lazy Lover, to mel with thine own matters, magre thine own iron case there.' "'Nay, be not wroth with me,' said the knight. "'Thou knowest I am thy sworn friend and comrade.' "'I know no such thing,' answered the friar, "'and defy thee for a meddling coxcomb.' Nay, but, said the knight, who seemed to take a pleasure in provoking his quondam host, hast thou forgotten how, that for my sake, for I say nothing of the temptation of the flagon and the pasty, thou didst break thy vow of fast and vigil?
Truly, friend, said the friar, clenching his huge fist, I will bestow a buffet on thee. I accept of no such presents, said the knight. I am content to take thy cuff as a loan, But I will repay thee with usury as deep as ever thy prisoner there exacted in this traffic. "'I will prove that presently,' said the friar. "'Holla!' cried the captain. "'What art thou after, mad friar, brawling beneath our trysting-tree?' "'No brawling,' said the knight. "'It is but a friendly interchange of courtesy. "'Friar, strike and thou darest. "'I will stand thy blow, if thou wilt stand mine.' "'Thou hast the advantage with that iron pot on thy head,' said the churchman. But have at thee, down thou goest, and thou wert Goliath of Gath in his brazen helmet.
The friar bared his brawny arm up to the elbow, and putting his full strength to the blow, gave the knight a buffet that might have felled an ox. But his adversary stood firm as a rock. A loud shout was uttered by all the yeomen around, for the clerk's cuff was proverbial amongst them, and there were few who, in jest or earnest, had not had the occasion to know its vigor. Now, priest, said the knight, pulling off his gauntlet, if I had vantage on my head, I will have none on my hand. Stand fast as a true man. Genom maom dedi vapolatori, I have given my cheek to the smiter, said the priest, and thou canst stir me from the spot, fellow. I will freely bestow on thee the Jew's ransom. So spoke the burly priest, assuming on his part high defiance.
But who may resist his fate? The buffet of the night was given with such strength and good will that the friar rolled head over heels upon the plain to the great amazement of all the spectators, but he arose neither angry nor crestfallen. Brother, said he to the knight, thou shouldst have used thy strength with more discretion. I had mumbled but a lame mass, and thou hadst broken my jaw, for the piper plays ill that wants the nether chops. Nevertheless, there is my hand, in friendly witness, that I will exchange no more cuffs with thee, having been a loser by the barter. End now all unkindness. Let us put the Jew to ransom, since the leopard will not change his spots, and a Jew he will continue to be.
The priest, said Clement, is not half so confident of the Jew's conversion, since he received that buffet on the ear. Go to, knave, what pradest thou of conversions? What, is there no respect? All masters and no men? I tell thee, fellow, I was somewhat tauty when I received the good knight's blow, or I had kept my ground under it. But an thou gibest more of it, thou shalt learn I can give as well as take. Peace all, said the captain, and thou, Jew, think of thy ransom. Thou needest not to be told that thy race are held to be accursed in all Christian communities, and trust me that we cannot endure thy presence among us. Think, therefore, of an offer. While I examine a prisoner of another caste.
Were many of Front de Boeuf's men taken? demanded the Black Knight. None of note enough to be put to ransom, answered the captain. A set of Hildingfellows there were, whom we dismissed to find them a new master. Enough had been done for revenge and profit. The bunch of them were not worth a cardicou. The prisoner I speak of is Betterbooty, a jolly monk riding to meet his lemon, And I may judge by his horse-gear and wearing apparel. Here cometh the worthy prelate as Pertes a Piat. And between two yeomen was brought before the sylvan throne of the outlaw chief, our old friend, Prior Eimer of Chorval.
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Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. Chapter Thirty-Three. Flower of warriors, how is't with Titus Lartius? Marcius, as with a man busied about decrees, condemning some to death and some to exile, Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other. Coriolanus. The captive abbot's features and manners exhibited a whimsical mixture of offended pride and deranged foppery and bodily terror. "'Why, how now, my masters?' said he, with a voice in which all three emotions were blended. "'What order is this among ye? Be ye Turks or Christians, that handle a churchman? Know ye what it is?' Manus imponere in servos domini? Ye have plundered my mails, torn my cope of curious cut lace, which might have served a cardinal.
Another in my place would have been at his excommunicabo vos. But I am placible, and if ye order forth my palfreys, release my brethren, and restore my mails, tell down with all speed an hundred crowns to be expended in masses at the high altar of Gerval Abbey, and make your vow to eat no venison until next Pentecost, It may be you shall hear little more of this mad frolic. Holy Father, said the chief outlaw, it grieves me to think that you have met with such usage from any of my followers as calls for your fatherly reprehension. Usage, echoed the priest, encouraged by the mild tone of the sylvan leader. It were usage fit for no hound of good race, much less for a Christian, far less for a priest, and least of all for the prior of the holy community of Jorval.
Here is a profane and drunken minstrel called Alina Dale, Nebulo Quidum, who has menaced me with corporal punishment, nay, with death itself, an I not pay down four hundred crowns of ransom to the boot of all the treasure he hath already robbed me of, gold chains and jimmel rings to an unknown value, besides what is broken and spoiled among their rude hands, such as my pouncer-box and silver crisping-tongues. It is impossible that Alan Adelaide can have thus treated a man of your reverend bearing, replied the captain. It is true as the gospel of St. Nicodemus, said the prior. He swore with many a cruel North Country oath that he would hang me up on the highest tree of the Greenwood. Did he so in very deed?
Nay, then, Reverend Father, I think you had better comply with his demands, for Alan Adelaide is the very man to abide by his word when he has so pledged it. "'You do but jest with me,' said the astounded prior, with a forced laugh. "'And I love the good jest with all my heart. But, ha, ha, ha, when the mirth has lasted the livelong night, it is time to be grave in the morning.' "'And I am as grave as a father confessor,' replied the outlaw. "'You must pay a round ransom, sir prior, or your convent is likely to be called to a new election, for your place will know you no more.' Are ye Christians, said the prior, and hold this language to a churchman? Christians, eh, marry are we, and have divinity among us to boot, answered the outlaw.
Let our buxom chaplain stand forth, and expound to this reverend father the texts which concern this matter. The friar, half-drunk, half-sober, had huddled a friar's frock over his green cassock, and now summoning together whatever scraps of learning he had acquired by rote in former days, Holy Father, said he, Deus faciat salvem benignatetum vestrum. You are welcome to the Greenwood. What profane mummery is this? said the prior. Friend, if thou beest indeed of the church, it were a better deed to show me how I may escape from these men's hands than to stand ducking and grinning here like a morris dancer. Truly, reverend father, said the friar, I know but one mode in which thou mayest escape.
This is St. Andrew's Day with us. We are taking our tithes. But not of the church, then, I trust, my good brother, said the prior. Of church and lay, said the friar, and therefore, Sir Prior, facite vobis amicus de mamone inquitatis, make yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, for no other friendship is like to serve your turn. I love a jolly woodsman at heart, said the prior, softening his tone. Come, ye must not deal too hard with me. I can well of woodcraft, and can wind a horn clear and lustily, And hollo till every oak rings again. Come, ye must not deal too hard with me. Give him a horn, said the outlaw. We will prove the skill he boasts of. The prior aimer winded a blast accordingly.
The captain shook his head. Sir prior, he said, thou blowest a merry note, but it may not ransom thee. We cannot afford, as the legend on a good knight's shield hath it, to set thee free for a blast. Moreover, I have found thee, thou art one of those who, with new French graces and tra-li-ras, disturb the ancient English bugle-notes. Prior, that last flourish on the retweet hath added fifty crowns to thy ransom for corrupting the true old manly blasts of venery. Well, friend, said the abbot peevishly, thou art ill to please with thy woodcraft. I pray thee be more conformable in this matter of my ransom. At a word, since I must needs for once hold a candle to the devil, what ransom am I to pay for walking on Watling Street without having fifty men at my back?
Were it not well, said the lieutenant of the gang apart to the captain, that the prior should name the Jews ransom, and the Jew name the prior's? Thou art a mad knave, said the captain, but thy plan transcends. Here, Jew, step forth. Look at that holy father, Aymer, prior of the rich abbey of Jorval, and tell us at what ransom we should hold him. Thou knowest the income of his convent, I warrant thee. Oh, assuredly, said Isaac, I have trafficked with the good fathers, and bought wheat and barley, and fruits of the earth, and also much wool. Oh, it is a rich abbey stead, and they do live upon the fat, and drink the sweet wines upon the lees, these good fathers of Gerval. Ah, if an outcast like me had such a home to go to, and such incomings by the year and by the month, I would pay much gold and silver to redeem my captivity.
"'Hound of a Jew!' exclaimed the prior. "'No one knows better than thy own cursed self that our Holy House of God is indebted for the finishing of our chancel, and for the storing of your cellars in the last season with the due allowance of Gascon Wine,' interrupted the Jew. "'But that—that is small matters.' "'Hear the infidel dog,' said the churchman. "'He jangles as if our Holy Community did come under debts for the wines we have a license to drink.' Propter necessitatem et ad phrygis de palendum. The circumcised villain blasphemeth the holy church, and Christian men listen and rebuke him not. All this helps nothing, said the leader. Isaac, pronounce what he may pay without flaying both hide and hair.
And six hundred crowns, said Isaac, the good prior might well pay to your honored valors, and never sit less soft in his stall. Six hundred crowns, said the leader gravely. I am contented. Thou hast well spoken, Isaac. Six hundred crowns. It is a sentence, sir prior. A sentence, a sentence, exclaimed the band. Solomon had not done it better. Thou hearest thy doom, prior, said the leader. Ye are mad, my masters, said the prior. Where am I to find such a sum? If I sell the very picks and candlesticks on the altar at Jorval, I shall scarce raise the half, and it will be necessary for that purpose that I go to Jorval myself. Ye may retain as borrows my two priests. That will be but blind trust, said the outlaw.
We will retain thee, Prior, and send them to fetch thy ransom. Thou shalt not want a cup of wine and collop of venison the while. And if thou lovest woodcraft, thou shalt see such as your north country never witnessed. Or, if so please you, said Isaac, willing to curry a favor with the outlaws, I can send to York for the six hundred crowns, out of certain moneys in my hands, If so be that the most reverend prior present will grant me acquittance. "'He shall grant thee whatever thou dost list, Isaac,' said the captain, "'and thou shalt lay down the redemption money for Prior Amor as well as for thyself.' "'For myself?' "'Ah, courageous sirs,' said the Jew. "'I am a broken and impoverished man.
A beggar's staff must be my portion through life, supposing I were to pay you fifty crowns.' "'The prior shall judge of that matter,' replied the captain. How say you, Father Amor, can the Jew afford a good ransom? Can he afford a ransom? answered the prior. Is he not the Isaac of York, rich enough to redeem the captivity of the ten tribes of Israel, who were led into Assyrian bondage? I have seen but little of him myself, but our cellarer and treasurer have dealt largely with him, and report says that his house at York is so full of gold and silver as is a shame in any Christian land. Marvel it is to all living Christian hearts that such gnawing adders should be suffered to eat into the bowels of the state, and even of the holy church itself, with foul usuries and extortions.
Hold, father, said the Jew, mitigate and assuage your collar. I pray for your reverence to remember that I force my moneys upon no one. But when churchman and layman, prince and prior, knight and priest, come knocking to Isaac's door, they borrow not his shekels with these uncivil terms. It is then, Friend Isaac, will you pleasure us in this matter, and our day shall be truly kept, so God say me, and, Kind Isaac, if ever you served man, show yourself a friend in this need. And when the day comes, and I ask my own, then what here I but damned Jew, and the curse of Egypt on your tribe, and all that may stir up the rude and uncivil populace against poor strangers? Prior, said the captain, Jew though he be, he hath in this spoken well.
Do thou therefore name his ransom, as he named thine, without further rude terms. None but Latrofamosus, the interpretation whereof, said the prior, will I give at some other time in type, would place a Christian prelate and an unbaptized Jew upon the same bench. But since ye require me to put a price upon this caitiff, I tell you openly that ye will wrong yourselves if you take from him a penny under a thousand crowns. A sentence, a sentence! exclaimed the chief outlaw. "'A sentence! a sentence!' shouted his assessors. "'The Christian has shown his good nurture, and dealt with us more generously than the Jew.' "'The god of my fathers, help me,' said the Jew. "'Will ye bear to the ground an impoverished creature?
I am this day childless, and will ye deprive me of the means of livelihood?' "'Thou wilt have the less to provide for, Jew, if thou art childless,' said Amor. "'Alas, my lord,' said Isaac, Your law permits you not to know how the child of our bosom is entwined with the strings of our heart. O Rebekah, laughter of my beloved Rachel, where each leaf of that tree is zekin, and each zekin mine own, all that mass of wealth would I give to know whether thou art alive and escaped the hands of the Nazarene. Was not thy daughter dark-haired, said one of the outlaws, and wore she not a veil of twisted sandal embroidered with silver? She did, she did, said the old man, trembling with eagerness, as formerly with fear.
The blessing of Jacob be upon thee. Canst thou tell me aught of her safety? It was she, then, said the yeoman, who was carried off by the proud Templar when he broke through our ranks on yestereven. I had drawn my bow to send a shaft after him, but spared him even for the sake of the damsel, who I feared might take harm from the arrow. Oh, answered the Jew, I would to God thou hadst shot. Though the arrow had pierced her bosom. Better the tomb of her fathers than the dishonorable couch of the licentious and savage Templar. Ichabod, Ichabod, the glory hath departed from my house. Friends, said the chief, looking around. The old man is but a Jew. Nonetheless his grief touches me. Deal uprightly with us, Isaac.
Will paying this ransom of a thousand crowns leave thee altogether penniless? Isaac recalled to think of his worldly goods, the love of which, by dint of invenerate habit, contended even with his parental affection, grew pale, stammered, and could not deny there might be some small surplus. Well, go to, what though there be, said the outlaw. We will not reckon with thee too closely. Without treasure, thou mayest as well hope to redeem thy child from the clutches of Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert, as to shoot a stag royal with a headless shaft. We will take thee with the same ransom with Prior Amor, or rather at one hundred crowns lower, which hundred crowns shall be mine own peculiar loss, and not light upon this worshipful community.
And so we shall avoid the heinous offense of rating a Jew merchant as high as a Christian prelate, and thou wilt have six hundred crowns remaining to treat for thy daughter's ransom. Templars love the glitter of silver shekels, as well as the sparkle of black eyes. Hasten to make thy crowns chink in the ear of Dubois-Gilbert, ere worse comes of it. Thou wilt find him, as our scouts have brought notice, at the next preceptory house of his order. Said I well, my merry mates? The yeomen expressed their wonted acquiescence in their leader's opinion, and Isaac, relieved of one half of his apprehensions by learning that his daughter lived, and might possibly be ransomed, threw himself at the feet of the generous outlaw, and, rubbing his beard against his buckskins, sought to kiss the hem of his green cassock.
The captain drew himself back, and extricated himself from the Jew's grasp, not without some marks of contempt. "'Nay, beshrew thee, man, up with thee. I am English-born, and love no such eastern prostrations. Kneel to God, and not to a poor sinner like me.' "'Ay, Jew,' said Prior Amor, kneel to God, as represented in the servant of his altar, and who knows, with thy sincere repentance and due gifts to the shrine of St. Robert, What grace thou mayest acquire for thyself and thy daughter, Rebekah? I grieve for the maiden, for she is of fair and comely countenance. I beheld her in the lists of Ashby. Also, Brian de Bois-Gilbert is one with whom I may do much. Bething thee how thou mayest deserve my good word with him.
Alas, alas, said the Jew, on every hand the spoilers arise against me. I am given as a prey unto the Assyrian, and a prey unto him of Egypt. And what else should be the lot of thy accursed race? answered the prior. For what saith holy writ, Verbum domini projocerunt, et sapientia est nulla in aes. They have cast forth the word of the Lord, and there is no wisdom in them. Propturae, dabo, molieris, eroum, exteris, I will give their women to strangers, that is, to the Templar, as in the present matter, et thesaros, eorum, heredebus, alienus, and their treasures to others. As in the present case to these honest gentlemen. Isaac groaned deeply, and began to wring his hands, and to relapse into his state of desolation and despair.
But the leader of the yeomen led him aside. Advise thee well, Isaac, said Locksley, what thou wilt do in this matter. My counsel to thee is to make a friend of this churchman. He is vain, Isaac, and he is covetous, at least he needs money to supply his profusion. Thou canst easily gratify his greed. For think not that I am blinded by thy pretexts of poverty. I am intimately acquainted, Isaac, with the very iron chest in which thou dost keep thy money-bags. What, know I not the great stone beneath the apple-tree that leads into the vaulted chamber under thy garden at York? The Jew grew pale as death. But fear nothing from me, continued the yeoman, for we are of old acquainted. Dost thou not remember the sick yeoman whom thy fair daughter Rebekah redeemed from the Gives at York?
And kept him in thy house till his health was restored, when thou didst dismiss him recovered and with a piece of money? Usurer as thou art, thou didst never place coin at better interest than that poor silver mark, for it has this day saved thee five hundred crowns. And thou art he whom we called Deacon Ben the Bow, said Isaac. I thought ever I knew the accent of thy voice. I am Ben the Bow, said the captain, and locksley, and have a good name besides all these. But thou art mistaken, good Ben the Bow, concerning that same vaulted apartment. So help me, heaven, as there is not in it but some merchandises, which I will gladly part with to you. One hundred yards of lincoln green to make doublets to thy men, and a hundred staves of Spanish yew to make bows, and a hundred silken bow-strings, tough, round, and sound—these I will send thee for thy good will, honest deacon, and thou wilt keep silence about the vault, my good deacon.
Silent as a door-mouse, said the outlaw, and never trust me, but I am grieved for thy daughter. But I may not help it. The Templars' lances are too strong for my archery in the open field. They would scatter us like dust. Had I but known it was Rebekah, when she was borne off, something might have been done. But now thou must needs proceed by policy. Come, shall I treat for thee with the prior? In God's name, Deacon, and thou canst, aid me to recover the child of my bosom. "'Do not thou interrupt me with thine ill-timed avarice,' said the outlaw, "'and I will deal with him in thy behalf.' He then turned from the Jew, who followed him, however, as closely as his shadow. "'Prior Amor,' said the captain, "'come apart with me under this tree.
Men say thou dost love wine and a lady's smile better than beseems thy order, sir priest, but with that I have not to do. I have heard, too, thou dost love a brace of good dogs and a fleet horse, And it may well be that, loving things which are costly to come by, thou hatest not a purse of gold. But I have never heard that thou didst love oppression or cruelty. Now here is Isaac willing to give thee the means of pleasure and pastime in a bag containing one hundred marks of silver, if thy intercession with thine ally, the Templar, shall avail to procure the freedom of his daughter. In safety and honor, as when taken from me, said the Jew, otherwise it is no bargain. Peace, Isaac, said the outlaw, or I give up thine interest.
What say you to this my purpose, Prior Amor? The matter, quoth the prior, is of a mixed condition, for, if I do a good deal on the one hand, yet on the other it goeth to the vantage of a Jew, and in so much is against my conscience. Yet, if the Israelite will advantage the church by giving me somewhat over to the building of our door to her, I will take it on my conscience to aid him in the matter of his daughter. For a score of marks to the door to her, said the outlaw. Be still, I say, Isaac, or for a brace of silver candlesticks to the altar. We will not stand with you. Nay, but, good deacon Ben-the-Bow, said Isaac, endeavouring to interpose. Good Jew, good beast, good earthworm, said the yeoman, losing patience.
An thou dost go on to put thy filthy lucre in the balance with thy daughter's life and honour, by heaven, I will strip thee of every maravetti thou hast in the world, before three days are out. Isaac shrunk together, and was silent. "'And what pledge am I to have for all this?' said the prior. "'When Isaac returns successful through your mediation,' said the outlaw, "'I swear by St. Hubert, I will see that he pays thee the money in good silver, or I will reckon with him for it in such sort he had better have paid twenty such sums.' "'Well, then, Jew,' said Amor, "'since I must needs meddle in this matter, Let me have the use of thy writing tablets, though, hold, rather than use thy pen, I would fast for twenty-four hours, and where shall I find one?
If your holy scruples can dispense with using the Jews' tablets, for the pen I can find a remedy, said the yeoman, and bending his bow, he aimed his shaft at a wild goose which was soaring over their heads, the advanced guard of a phalanx of his tribe, which were winging their way to the distant and solitary fens of Holderness. The bird came fluttering down, transfixed with the arrow. "'There, prior,' said the captain, "'are Quilzino to supply all the monks of Jorval for the next hundred years, and they take not to writing chronicles.' The prior sat down, and at great leisure indicted an epistle to Brian de Bois-Gilbert, and, having carefully sealed up the tablets, delivered them to the Jew, saying, "'This will be thy safe conduct to the preceptory of Templestowe.' and, as I think, is most likely to accomplish the delivery of thy daughter, if it be well backed with proffers of advantage and commodity at thine own hand.
For, trust me well, the good knight Bois-Gilbert is of their confraternity that do not for naught. Well, prior, said the outlaw, I will detain thee no longer here than to give the Jew acquittance for the six hundred crowns at which thy ransom is fixed. I accept of him for my paymaster. And if I hear the ebagel at allowing him in his accomplice the sum so paid by him, St. Mary refuse me, and I burn not the abbey over thine head, though I hang ten years the sooner. With a much worse grace than that therewith he had penned the letter to Bois-Gilbert, the prior wrote an acquittance, discharging Isaac of York of six hundred crowns, advanced to him in his need for acquittal of his ransom, and faithfully promising to hold true comte with him for that sum.
And now, said Prior Eimer, I will pray you of restitution of my mules and palfreys, and the freedom of the reverend brethren attending upon me, and also of the jimmel rings, jewels, and fair vestures, of which I have been despoiled, having now satisfied you for my ransom as a true prisoner. Touching your brethren, sir, Prior, said Locksley, they shall have present freedom, it were unjust to detain them. Touching your horses and mules, they shall also be restored, with such spending money as may enable you to reach York, for it were cruel to deprive you of the means of journeying. But as concerning rings, jewels, chains, and what else, you must understand that we are men of tender consciences, and will not yield to a venerable man like yourself, who should be dead to the vanities of this life, the strong temptation to break the rule of his foundation by wearing rings, chains, or other vain gods.
Think what you do, my masters, said the prior, ere you put your hand on the church's patrimony. These things are inter res sacrus, and I wot not what judgment might ensue were they to be handled by laical hands. I will take care of that, Reverend Prior, said the hermit of Cotmanhurst, for I will wear them myself. Friend or brother, said the prior, in answer to the solution of his doubts, if thou hast really taken religious orders, I pray thee to look how thou wilt answer to thine official, for the share thou hast taken in this day's work. Friend Prior, returned the hermit, you are to know that I belong to a little diocese, where I am my own diocesan, and care as little for the Bishop of York as I do for the Abbot of Jorval, the Prior, and all the convent.
Thou art utterly irregular, said the Prior. One of those disorderly men, who, taking on them the sacred character without due cause, profane the holy rites, and endanger the souls of those who take counsel at their hands. Lopides propane condonates iis, giving them stones instead of bread, as the Vulgate hath it. Nay, said the friar, and my brain-pan could have been broken by Latin, it had not held so long together. I say, that easing a world of such misproud priests as thou art, of their jewels and their gimcracks, is a lawful spoiling of the Egyptians. Thou beest a hedge-priest, said the prior, in great wrath, Excommunicabo vos. Thou beest thyself more like a thief and a heretic, said the friar, equally indignant.
I will pouch up no such affront before my parishioners, as thou thinkest it not shame to put upon me, although I be a reverend brother to thee. Osa ejus perfringum. I will break your bones, as the Vulgate hath it. Holla! cried the captain. Come, the reverend brethren, to such terms? Keep thine assurance of peace, friar. Prior, and thou hast not made thy peace perfect with God, provoke the prior no further. Hermit, let the reverend brother depart in peace as a ransomed man. The yeomen separated the incensed priests, who continued to raise their voices, vituperating each other in bad latin, which the prior delivered the more fluently, and the hermit with the greater vehemence. The prior at length recollected himself sufficiently to be aware that he was compromising his dignity, by squabbling with such a hedge-priest as the outlaw's chaplain, and being joined by his attendants, rode off with considerably less pomp, and in a much more apostolical condition, so far as worldly matters were concerned, than he had exhibited before this recounter.
It remained that the Jew should produce some security for the ransom which he was to pay on the prior's account, as well as upon his own. He gave, accordingly, an order sealed with his signet to the brother of his tribe at York, Requiring him to pay to the bearer the sum of a thousand crowns, and to deliver certain merchandises specified in the note. My brother Shiva, he said, groaning deeply, hath the key of my warehouses. And of the vaulted chamber, whispered Locksley. No, no, may heaven forfend, said Isaac. Evil is the hour that let any one whomsoever into that secret. It is safe with me, said the outlaw. So be that this thy scroll produced the sum therein nominated and set down. But what now, Isaac?
Art dead? Art stupefied? Hath the payment of a thousand crowns put thy daughter's peril out of thy mind? The Jew started to his feet. No, deacon, no. I will presently set forth. Farewell, thou whom I may not call good, and dare not and will not call evil. Yet, ere Isaac departed, the outlaw chief bestowed on him this parting advice. Be liberal of thine offers, Isaac, and spare not thy purse for thy daughter's safety. Credit me that the gold thou shalt spare in her cause will hereafter give thee as much agony as if it were poured molten down thy throat. Isaac acquiesced with a deep groan, and set forth on his journey, accompanied by two tall foresters who were to be his guides, and at the same time his guards through the wood.
The black knight, who had seen with no small interest these various proceedings, now took his leave of the outlaw in turn, nor could he avoid expressing his surprise at having witnessed so much of civil policy amongst persons cast out from all the ordinary protection and influence of the laws. Good fruit, Sir Knight, said the yeoman, will sometimes grow on a sorry tree, and evil times are not always productive of evil alone and unmixed. Amongst those who are drawn into this lawless state, there are doubtless Numbers who wished to exercise its license with some moderation, and some who regret, it may be, that they were obliged to follow such a trade at all. And to one of those, said the knight, I am now, I presume, speaking?
Sir knight, said the outlaw, we have each our secret. You are welcome to form your judgment of me, and I may use my conjectures touching you, though neither of our shafts may hit the mark they are shot at. But as I do not pray to be admitted into your mystery, be not offended that I preserve my own. "'I crave pardon, brave outlaw,' said the knight. "'Your reproof is just. But it may be we shall meet hereafter with less of concealment on either side. Meanwhile we part friends, do we not?' "'There is my hand upon it,' said Locksley, and I will call it the hand of a true Englishman, though an outlaw for the present.' "'And there is mine in return,' said the knight, "'and I hold it honoured by being clasped with yours.
For he that does good, having the unlimited power to do evil, deserves praise not only for the good which he performs, but for the evil which he forbears. Fare thee well, gallant outlaw!' Thus parted that fair fellowship, and he of the fetter-lock, mounting upon his strong war-horse, rode off through the forest.
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King John. I'll tell thee what, my friend, he is a very serpent in my way. And whereso'er this foot of mine doth tread, he lies before me. Dost thou understand me? King John. There was a brave feasting in the castle of York, to which Prince John had invited those nobles, prelates, and leaders, by whose assistance he hoped to carry through his ambitious projects upon his brother's throne. Waldemar Fitzers, his able and politic agent, was at secret work among them, tempering them all to that pitch of courage which was necessary in making an open declaration of their purpose. But their enterprise was delayed by the absence of more than one main limb of the Confederacy. The stubborn and daring, though brutal courage of Front des Bouffes, the buoyant spirits and bold daring of de Bracy, the sagacity, martial experience, and renowned valor of Brian de Bois-Gilbert were important to the success of their conspiracy, and, while cursing in secret their unnecessary and unmeaning absence, neither John nor his advisor dared to proceed without them.
Isaac, the Jew, also seemed to have vanished, and with him the hope of certain sums of money, Making up the subsidy for which Prince John had contracted with that Israelite and his brethren. This deficiency was likely to prove perilous in an emergency so critical. It was on the morning after the fall of Torquilstone that a confused report began to spread abroad in the city of York that de Bracy and Bois-Gilbert, with their confederate Front des Bouff, had been taken or slain. Waldemar brought the rumor to Prince John, announcing that he feared its truth the more that they had set out with a small attendance for the purpose of committing an assault on the Saxon Cedric and his attendants. At another time, the prince would have treated this deed of violence as a good jest, but now that it interfered with and impeded his own plans, he exclaimed against the perpetrators, and spoke of the broken laws and the infringement of public order and of private property in a tone which might have become King Alfred.
The unprincipled marauders, he said, were I ever to become monarch of England, I would hang such transgressors over the drawbridges of their own castles. But to become monarch of England, said his Ahithophel coolly, it is necessary not only that your grace should endure the transgressions of these unprincipled marauders, but that you should afford them your protection, notwithstanding your laudable zeal for the laws they are in the habit of infringing. We shall be finely helped, if the Churl-Saxons should have realized your Grace's vision, of converting feudal drawbridges into gibbets, and yonder bold-spirited Cedric seemeth one to whom such an imagination might occur. Your Grace is well aware it will be dangerous to stir without front de bouffe de Bracy and the Templar, and yet we have gone too far to recede with safety.
Prince John struck his forehead with impatience, and then began to stride up and down the apartment. The villains, he said, the base treacherous villains, to desert me at this pinch. Nay, say rather the feather-pated giddy madmen, said Waldemar, who must be toying with follies when such business was in hand. What is to be done, said the prince, stopping short before Waldemar? I know nothing which can be done, answered his counsellor, save that which I have already taken order for. I came not to bewail this evil chance with your grace, Until I had done my best to remedy it. "'Thou art ever my better angel, Waldemar,' said the Prince, "'and when I have such a chancellor to advise withal, the reign of John will be renowned in our annals.
What hast thou commanded?' "'I have ordered Louis Winklebrand, de Bracy's lieutenant, to cause his trumpet sound to horse, and to display his banner, and to set presently forth towards the castle of Front de Bouffe, to do what yet may be done for the succour of our friends.' Prince John's face flushed with the pride of a spoilt child, who has undergone what it conceives to be an insult. By the face of God, he said, Waldemar Fitzhurst, much hast thou taken upon thee. And over Malapert thou wert to cause the trumpet to blow, or banner to be raised, in a town where ourselves were in presence without our express command. I crave your grace's pardon, said Fitzhurst, internally cursing the idle vanity of his patron.
But when time pressed, and even the loss of minutes might be fatal, I judged it best to take this much burden upon me in a matter of such importance to your grace's interest. "'Thou art pardoned, Fitzers,' said the prince gravely. "'Thy purpose hath atoned for thy hasty rashness. But whom have we here, de Bracy himself by the rude, and in strange guise doth he come before us?' It was indeed de Bracy, bloody with spurring, fiery red with speed. His armor bore all the marks of the late obstinate fray, being broken, defaced, and stained with blood in many places, and covered with clay and dust from the crest to the spur. Undoing his helmet, he placed it on the table, and stood a moment as if to collect himself before he told his news.
De Bracy, said Prince John, what means this? Speak, I charge thee. Are the Saxons in rebellion? Speak, de Bracy, said Fitzhurst, almost at the same moment with his master. Thou wert wont to be a man. Where's the Templer? Where's Front de Bouffe? The Templer is fled, said de Bracy. Front de Bouffe you will never see more. He has found a red grave among the blazing rafters of his own castle, and I alone am escaped to tell you. Cold news, said Waldemar, to us, though you speak of fire and conflagration. The worst news is not yet said, answered de Bracy, and coming up to Prince John, he uttered in a low and emphatic tone, Richard is in England. I have seen and spoken with him. Prince John turned pale, tottered, and caught at the back of an oaken bench to support himself, much like to a man who receives an arrow in his bosom.
"'Thou ravest, de Bracy,' said Fitzherst. "'It cannot be.' "'It is as true as truth itself,' said de Bracy. "'I was his prisoner, and spoke with him.' "'With Richard Plantagenet, sayest thou?' continued Fitzherst. "'With Richard Plantagenet,' replied de Bracy. With Richard Cordelion, with Richard of England. And thou wert his prisoner, said Waldemar. He is then at the head of a power? No, only a few outlawed yeomen were around him, and to these his person is unknown. I heard him say he was about to depart from them. He joined them only to assist at the storming of Torquilstone. Ay, said Fitzhurst, such is indeed the fashion of Richard, a true knight-errant he, and will wander in wild adventure, trusting the prowess of his single arm like any Sir Guy or Sir Bevis, while the weighty affairs of his kingdom slumber and his own safety is endangered.
What dost thou propose to do, de Bracy? I? I offered Richard the service of my free lances, and he refused them. I will lead them to Hull, seize on shipping, and embark for Flanders. Thanks to the bustling times, a man of action will always find employment. And now, Waldemar, wilt thou take lance and shield, and lay down thy policies, and wend along with me, and share the fate which God sends us? I am too old, Maurice, and I have a daughter, answered Waldemar. Give her to me, Fitzhurst, and I will maintain her as fits her rank, with the help of lance and stirrup, said de Bracy. Not so, answered Fitzhurst. I will take sanctuary in this church of St. Peter. The archbishop is my sworn brother. During this discourse, Prince John had gradually awakened from the stupor into which he had been thrown by the unexpected intelligence, and had been attentive to the conversation which passed betwixt his followers.
They fall off from me, he said to himself. They hold no more by me than a withered leaf by the bough when a breeze blows on it. Hell and fiends! Can I shape no means for myself when I am deserted by these cravens? He paused, and there was an expression of diabolical passion in the constrained laugh, with which he at length broke in on their conversation. Ha! ha! ha! my good lords, by the light of our lady's brow, I held ye sage men, bold men, ready-witted men, yet ye throw down wealth, honor, and pleasure, all that our noble game promised you, at the moment it might be won by one bold cast. I understand you not, said de Bracy. As soon as Richard's return is blown abroad, He will be at the head of an army, and all is then over with us.
I would counsel you, my lord, either to fly to France, or take the protection of the Queen Mother. "'I seek no safety for myself,' said Prince John haughtily, that I could secure by a word spoken to my brother. But although you, de Bracy, and you, Waldemar Fitzhurst, are so ready to abandon me, I should not greatly delight to see your heads blackening on Clifford's gate yonder. Thinkest thou, Waldemar, that the wily archbishop will not suffer thee to be taken from the very horns of the altar? Would it make his peace with King Richard? And forgettest thou, de Bracy, that Robert de Staudoville lies betwixt thee and Hall with all his forces, and that the Earl of Essex is gathering his followers?
If we had reason to fear these levies even before Richard's return, trowest thou there is any doubt now which party their leaders will take? Trust me, Estoudeville alone has strength enough to drive all thy free lances into the Humber. Waldemar, Fitzhurst, and de Bracy looked in each other's faces with blank dismay. There is but one road to safety, continued the prince, and his brow grew black as midnight. This object of our terror journeys alone. He must be met with all. 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 Cardiff. Ay, but, said Waldemar, your sire Henry sate 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 had my say. Prison or tomb, said de Bracy. I wash my hands of the whole matter. Villain, said Prince John. Thou wouldst not bewray our counsel? Counsel was never bewrayed by me, said de Bracy haughtily, nor must the name of villain be coupled with mine.
Peace, Sir Knight, said Waldemar. And you, good my lord, forgive the scruples of valiant de Bracy. I trust I shall soon remove them. "'That passes your eloquence, Fitzers,' replied the knight. "'Why, good Sir Maurice,' rejoined the wily politician, "'start not aside like a sacred steed, without at least considering the object of your terror. This Richard, but a day since, and it would have been thy dearest wish to have met him hand to hand in the ranks of battle, a hundred times I have heard thee wish it.' "'Ay,' said de Bracy, But that was, as thou sayest, hand to hand, and in the ranks of battle. Thou never heardest me breathe a thought of assaulting him alone and in a forest. "'Thou art no good knight if thou dost scruple at it,' said Waldemar.
Was it in battle that Lancelot de Locke and Sir Tristram won renown? Or was it not by encountering gigantic knights under the shade of deep and unknown forests?' "'Ay, but I promise you,' said de Bracy, that neither Tristram nor Lancelot would have been match hand to hand for Richard Plantagenet, and I think it was not their wont to take odds against a single man. Thou art mad, de Bracy. What is it we propose to thee, a hired and retained captain of free companions, whose swords are purchased for Prince John's service? Thou art apprized of our enemy, and then thou scrupulest, though thy patron's fortunes, those of thy comrades, thine own, and the life and honor of every one amongst us be at stake.
I tell you," said de Bracy sullenly, that he gave me my life. True, he sent me from his presence, and refused my homage. So far I owe him neither favor nor allegiance, but I will not lift hand against him. It needs not. Send Louis Winklebrand and a score of thy lances. Ye have sufficient ruffians of your own, said de Bracy. Not one of mine shall budge on such an errand. Art thou so obstinate, de Bracy? said Prince John. And wilt thou forsake me after so many protestations of zeal for my service? I mean it not, said de Bracy. I will abide by you in aught that becomes a knight, whether in the lists or in the camp. But this highway practice comes not within my vow. Come hither, Waldemar, said Prince John.
An unhappy prince am I. My father, King Henry, had faithful servants. He had but to say that he was plagued with a factious priest, And the blood of Thomas of Becket, saint though he was, stained the steps of his own altar. Tracy, Morville, Brito, loyal and daring subjects, your names, your spirit, are extinct. And although Reginald Fitzhurst hath left a son, he hath fallen off from his father's fidelity and courage. He has fallen off from neither, said Waldemar Fitzhurst. And since it may not better be, I will take on me the conduct of this perilous enterprise. Dearly, however, did my father purchase the praise of a zealous friend, and yet did his proof of loyalty to Henry fall far short of what I am about to afford.
For rather would I assail a whole calendar of saints than put spear in rest against Corte de Leon. De Bracy, to thee I must trust to keep up the spirits of the doubtful, and to guard Prince John's person. If you receive such news as I trust to send you, our enterprise will no longer wear a doubtful aspect. Page, he said. Hie to my lodgings, and tell my armorer to be there in readiness, and bid Stephen Wetherall, Broad Thorsby, and the three spears of Spyinghow to come to me instantly, and let the scoutmaster, Hugh Barden, attend me also. Adieu, my prince, till better times. Thus speaking, he left the apartment. He goes to make my brother prisoner, said Prince John to de Bracy, with as little touch of compunction as if it but concerned the liberty of a Saxon Franklin.
I trust he will observe our orders, and use our dear Richard's person with all due respect. De Bracy only answered by a smile. By the light of our lady's brow, said Prince John, our orders to him were most precise. Though it may be you heard them not, as we stood together in the oriel window, most clear and positive was our charge that Richard's safety should be cared for, and woe to Waldemar's head if he transgress it. I had better pass to his lodgings, said de Bracy, and make him fully aware of your grace's pleasure, for, as it quite escaped my ear, it may not perchance have reached that of Waldemar. "'Nay, nay,' said Prince John impatiently, "'I promise thee he heard me, and, besides, I have farther occupation for thee.
Maurice, come hither, let me lean on thy shoulder.' They walked a turn through the hall in this familiar posture, and Prince John, with an air of the most confidential intimacy, proceeded to say, "'I What thinkest thou of this Weldemar Fitzhurst, my de Bracy? He trusts to be our Chancellor. Surely we will give pause ere we give an office so high to one who shows evidently how little he reverences our blood by his so readily undertaking this enterprise against Richard. Thou dost think, I warrant, that thou hast lost somewhat of our regard by thy boldly declining this unpleasing task. But no, Maurice. I rather honour thee for thy virtuous constancy. There are things most necessary to be done, the perpetrator of which we neither love nor honor, and there may be refusals to serve us, which shall rather exult in our estimation those who deny our request.
The arrest of my unfortunate brother forms no such good title to the high office of Chancellor as thy chivalrous and courageous denial establishes in thee to the truncheon of High Marshal. Think of this, de Bracy, and be gone to thy charge. Fickle tyrant! muttered de Bracy. as he left the presence of the prince, evil luck have they who trust thee, thy chancellor indeed. He who hath the keeping of thy conscience shall have an easy charge, I trow. But High Marshal of England, that, he said, extending his arm as if to grasp the baton of office, and assuming a lockier stride along the antechamber, that is indeed a prize worth playing for. De Bracy had no sooner left the apartment than Prince John summoned an attendant.
Bid Hugh Barden, our scoutmaster, come hither, as soon as he shall have spoken with Waldemar Fitzhurst. The scoutmaster arrived after a brief delay, during which John traversed the apartment with unequal and disordered steps. Barden, said he, what did Waldemar desire of thee? Two resolute men, well acquainted with these northern wilds, and skilful in tracking the tread of man and horse. And thou hast fitted him? "'Let your grace never trust me else,' answered the master of the spies. "'One is from Hexhamshire. He is wont to trace the Tyndale and the Teviotdale thieves, as the bloodhound follows the slot of a hurt deer. The other is Yorkshire-bred, and has twanged his bowstring right oft in Mary Sherwood.
He knows each glade and dingle, copse and highwood, betwixt this and Richmond. "'Tis well,' said the Prince. "'Goes Waldemar forth with them?' "'Instantly,' said Barden. With what attendants asked John carelessly? Broad Thorsby goes with him, and Wetherall, whom they call for his cruelty, Stephen Steelheart, and three northern men-at-arms that belonged to Ralph Middleton's gang, they are called the Spears of Spyingho. "'Tis well," said Prince John, then added after a moment's pause, "'Barden, it imports our service that thou keep a strict watch on Maurice de Bracy, so that he shall not observe it, however, and let us know of his motions from time to time.' With whom he converses, what he proposeth.
Fail not in this, as thou wilt be answerable. Hugh Barden bowed, and retired. If Maurice betrays me, said Prince John, if he betrays me, as his bearing leads me to fear, I will have his head, were Richard thundering at the gates of York.
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S. By Sir Walter Scott. Chapter Thirty-five Arouse the tiger of Hyrcanian deserts, Strive with the half-starved lion for his prey. Lesser the risk than roused the slumbering fire of wild fanaticism. Anonymous. Our tale now returns to Isaac of York. Mounted upon a mule, the gift of the outlaw, with too tall yeomen to act as his guard and guides, the Jew had set out for the preceptory of Templestowe for the purpose of negotiating his daughter's redemption. The preceptory was but a day's journey from the demolished castle of Torkelstone, and the Jew had hoped to reach it before nightfall. Accordingly, having dismissed his guides at the verge of the forest, and rewarded them with a piece of silver, he began to press on with such speed as his weariness permitted him to exert.
But his strength failed him totally ere he had reached within four miles of the temple court. Racking pains shot along his back and through his limbs, and the excessive anguish which he felt at heart Being now augmented by bodily suffering, he was rendered altogether incapable of proceeding farther than a small market town where dwelt a Jewish rabbi of his tribe, eminent in the medical profession, and to whom Isaac was well known. Nathan ben Israel received his suffering countrymen with that kindness which the law prescribed, and which the Jews practiced to each other. He insisted on his betaking himself to repose, and used such remedies as were then in most repute to check the progress of the fever which terror, fatigue, ill-usage, and sorrow had brought upon the poor old Jew.
On the morrow, when Isaac proposed to arise and pursue his journey, Nathan remonstrated against his purpose, both as his host and as his physician. It might cost him, he said, his life. But Isaac replied, that more than life and death depended upon his going that morning to Templestowe. "'To Templestowe,' said his host, with surprise again felt his pulse, and then muttered to himself, "'His fever is abated, yet seems his mind somewhat alienated and disturbed.' "'And why not to Templestowe?' answered his patient. I grant thee, Nathan, that it is a dwelling of those to whom the despised children of the promise are a stumbling-block and an abomination. Yet thou knowest that pressing affairs of traffic sometimes carry us among these bloodthirsty Nazarene soldiers, and that we visit the preceptories of the Templars, as well as the commanderies of the Knights Hospitallaires, as they are called.
I know it well, said Nathan, but waddest thou that Lucas de Beaumanois The chief of their order, and whom they term grand master, is now himself at Templestowe? I know it not, said Isaac. Our last letters from our brethren at Paris advised us that he was at that city, beseeching Philip for aid against the sultan Saladin. He hath since come to England, unexpected by his brethren, said Ben Israel, and he cometh among them with a strong and outstretched arm to correct and to punish. His countenance is kindled in anger against those who have departed from the vow which they have made, and great is the fear of those sons of Belial. Thou must have heard of his name? It is well known unto me, said Isaac.
The Gentiles deliver this Lucas Beau-manois as a man zealous to slaying for every point of the Nazarene law, and our brethren have termed him a fierce destroyer of the Saracens, and a cruel tyrant to the children of the promise. And truly have they termed him," said Nathan the physician. Other Templars may be moved from the purpose of their heart by pleasure, or bribed by promise of gold and silver, but Beaumanois is of a different stamp, hating sensuality, despising treasure, and pressing forward to that which they call the crown of martyrdom. The God of Jacob speedily send it unto him, and unto them all. Specially hath this proud man extended his glove over the children of Judah, as holy David over Edom, holding the murder of a Jew to be an offering of as sweet savour as the death of a Saracen.
Impious and false teachings has he said, even of the virtues of our medicines, as if they were the devices of Satan. The Lord rebuke him. Nevertheless, said Isaac, I must present myself at Templestowe, though he hath made his face like unto a fiery furnace seven times heated. He then explained to Nathan the pressing cause of his journey. The rabbi listened with interest, and testified his sympathy after the fashion of his people, rending his clothes and saying, Ah, my daughter, ah, my daughter! Alas, for the beauty of Zion! Alas, for the captivity of Israel! Thou seest, said Isaac, how it stands with me, and that I may not tarry. Peradventure, the presence of this Lucas Beaumanois, being the chief man over them, may turn Brian de Bois-Gilbert from the ill which he doth meditate, and that he may deliver to me my beloved daughter Rebekah.
Go thou, said Nathan ben Israel, and be wise, for wisdom availed Daniel in the den of lions into which he was cast, and may it go well with thee, even as thine heart wisheth. Yet, if thou canst, Keep thee from the presence of the Grand Master, for to do foul scorn to our people is his morning and evening delight. It may be, if thou couldst speak with Bois-Gilbert in private, thou shalt the better prevail with him. For men say that these accursed Nazarenes are not of one mind in the preceptory. May their counsels be confounded and brought to shame. But do thou, brother, return to me as if it were to the house of thy father, And bring me word how it has sped with thee, and well do I hope thou wilt bring with thee Rebekah, even the scholar of the wise Miriam, whose cures the Gentiles slandered as if they had been wrought by necromancy.
Isaak accordingly bade his friend farewell, and about an hour's riding brought him before the preceptory of Templestowe. This establishment of the Templars was seeded amidst fair meadows and pastures, which the devotion of the former preceptor had bestowed upon their order. It was strong and well fortified, a point never neglected by these knights, and which the disordered state of England rendered peculiarly necessary. Two halberdiers, clad in black, guarded the drawbridge, and others, in the same sad livery, glided to and fro upon the walls with a funereal pace, Resembling spectres more than soldiers. The inferior officers of the order were thus dressed, ever since their use of white garments, similar to those of the knights and esquires, had given rise to a combination of certain false brethren in the mountains of Palestine, terming themselves Templars, and bringing great dishonour on the order.
A knight was now and then seen to cross the court in his long white cloak, his head depressed on his breast, and his arms folded. They passed each other, if they chanced to meet, with a slow, solemn, and mute greeting, for such was the rule of their order, quoting thereupon the holy texts, In many words thou shalt not avoid sin, and Life and death are in the power of the tongue. In a word, the stern ascetic rigor of the temple discipline, which had been so long exchanged for prodigal and licentious indulgence, seemed at once to have revived at Templestowe under the severe eye of Lucas Beau-manois.
Isaac paused at the gate to consider how he might seek entrance in the manner most likely to bespeak favor, for he was well aware that to his unhappy race the reviving fanaticism of the order was not less dangerous than their unprincipled licentiousness, and that his religion would be the object of hate and persecution in the one case, as his wealth would have exposed him in the other to the extortions of unrelenting oppression. Meantime, Lucas Beaumanois walked in a small garden belonging to the preceptory, included within the precincts of its exterior fortification, and held sad and confidential communication with a brother of his order, who had come in his company from Palestine. The grand master was a man advanced in age, as was testified by his long gray beard, and the shaggy gray eyebrows overhanging eyes, of which, however, years had been unable to quench the fire.
A formidable warrior, his thin and severe features retained the soldier's fierceness of expression. An ascetic bigot, they were no less marked by the emaciation of abstinence and the spiritual pride of the self-satisfied devotee. Yet with these severer traits of physiognomy, There was mixed somewhat striking and noble, arising doubtless from the great part which his high office called upon him to act among monarchs and princes, and from the habitual exercise of supreme authority over the valiant and high-born knights, who were united by the rules of the order. His stature was tall, and his gait, undepressed by age and toil, was erect and stately. His white mantle was shaped with severe regularity, According to the rule of St.
Bernard himself, being composed of what was then called Burrell cloth, exactly fitted to the size of the wearer, and bearing on the left shoulder the octangular cross, peculiar to the order, formed of red cloth. No verre or ermine decked this garment. But in respect of his age, the Grand Master, as permitted by the rules, wore his doublet lined and trimmed with the softest lambskin, dressed with the wool outwards, which was the nearest approach he could regularly make to the use of fur, then the greatest luxury of dress. In his hand he bore that singular abacus, or staff of office, with which Templars were usually represented, having at the upper end a round plate, on which was engraved the cross of the order, inscribed within a circle or oral, as Harold's termit.
His companion, who attended on this great personage, Had nearly the same dress in all respects, but his extreme deference towards his superior showed that no other equality subsisted between them. The preceptor, for such he was in rank, walked not in a line with the Grand Master, but just so far behind that Beaumanois could speak to him without turning round his head. "'Conrad,' said the Grand Master, "'dear companion of my battles and toils, To thy faithful bosom alone I can confide my sorrows. To thee alone can I tell how oft, since I came to this kingdom, I have desired to be dissolved and to be with the just. Not one object in England hath met mine eye which it could rest upon with pleasure, save the tombs of our brethren beneath the massive roof of our temple church in yonder proud capital.
O valiant Robert de Rose did I exclaim internally, As I gazed upon those good soldiers of the cross, where they lie sculptured on their sepulchres. Oh, worthy William de Maréchal! Open your marble cells, and take to your repose a weary brother who would rather strive with a hundred thousand pagans than witness the decay of our holy order. It is but true, answered Conrad Montfichet. It is but too true, and the irregularities of our brethren in England are even more gross than those in France. "'Because they are more wealthy,' answered the Grand Master. "'Bear with me, brother, although I should something vaunt myself. Thou knowest the life I have led, keeping each point of my order, striving with devils embodied and disembodied, striking down the roaring lion, who goeth about seeking whom he may devour, like a good knight and devout priest, wheresoever I met with him.' Even as blessed St.
Bernard hath prescribed to us, in the forty-fifth capital of our rule, Ut Leo semper Feriatur. But by the holy temple, the zeal which hath devoured my substance and my life, yea, the very nerves and marrow of my bones, by that very holy temple I swear to thee, that save thyself and some few that still retain the ancient severity of our order, I look upon no brethren whom I can bring my soul to embrace under that holy name. What say our statutes, and how do our brethren observe them? They should wear no vain or worldly ornament, no crest upon their helmet, no gold upon stirrup or bridle-bit. Yet who now go pranked about so proudly and so gaily as the poor soldiers of the temple? They are forbidden by our statutes to take one bird by means of another, To shoot beasts with bow or arblast, to halloo to a hunting-horn, or to spur the horse after game.
But now, at hunting and hawking, and each idle sport of wood and river, who so prompt as the Templars in all these fond vanities? They are forbidden to read, save what their superior permitted, or to listen to what is read, save such holy things as may be recited aloud during the hours of refaction. But, lo! Their ears are at the command of idle minstrels, and their eyes study empty romance. They were commanded to extirpate magic and heresy. Lo, they are charged with studying the accursed cabalistical secrets of the Jews and the magic of the Paynim Saracens. Simpleness of diet was prescribed to them—roots, pottage, gruels, eating flesh but thrice a week—because the accustomed feeding on flesh is a dishonorable corruption of the body.
And behold, their tables groan under delicate fare. Their drink was to be water, and now to drink like a templar is the boast of each jolly boon companion. This very garden, filled as it is with curious herbs and trees sent from the eastern climes, better becomes the harem of an unbelieving emir than the plot which Christian monks should devote to raise their homely pot-herbs. And oh, Conrad, Well it were that the relaxation of discipline stopped even here. Well thou knowest that we were forbidden to receive those devout women, who at the beginning were associated as sisters of our order, because, say, at the forty-sixth chapter, the ancient enemy hath, by female society, withdrawn many from the right path to Paradise.
Nay, in the last capital, being, as it were, the copestone which our blessed founder placed on the pure and undefiled doctrine, which he had enjoined, we are prohibited from offering, even to our sisters and our mothers, the kiss of affection. Ut omnium mulierum fugienter oscula, I shame to speak, I shame to think, of the corruptions which have rushed in upon us even like a flood. The souls of our pure founders, the souls of Hugh de Payne and Godfrey de Saint-Omer, and of the blessed seven who first joined in dedicating their lives to the service of the temple, are disturbed even in the enjoyment of paradise itself. I have seen them, Conrad, in the visions of the night. Their sainted eyes shed tears for the sins and follies of their brethren, and for the foul and shameful luxury in which they wallow.
Beau-man-wa, they say, thou slumberest, awake! There is a stain in the fabric of the temple, Deep and foul as that left by the streaks of leprosy on the walls of the infected houses of old. The soldiers of the cross, who would shun the glance of a woman as the eye of a basilisk, live in open sin, not with the females of their own race only, but with the daughters of the accursed heathen, and more accursed Jew. Beaumanois, thou sleepest, up, and avenge our cause. Slay the sinners, male and female. Take to thee the brand of Phineas. The vision fled, Conrad, but as I awaked I could still hear the clank of their mail, and see the waving of their white mantles. And I will do according to their word.
I will purify the fabric of the temple, and the unclean stones in which the plague is I will remove and cast out of the building. Yet bethink thee, reverend father, said Montefiachet, the stain hath become ingrained by time and consuetude. Let thy reformation be cautious, as it is just and wise. No, Montfichet, answered the stern old man. It must be sharp and sudden. The order is on the crisis of its fate. The sobriety, self-devotion, and piety of our predecessors made us powerful friends. Our presumption, our wealth, our luxury have raised up against us mighty enemies. We must cast away these riches, which are a temptation to princes. We must lay down that presumption which is an offense to them.
We must reform that license of manners which is a scandal to the whole Christian world. Or, mark my words, the order of the temple will be utterly demolished, and the place thereof shall no more be known among the nations. Now may God avert such a calamity, said the preceptor. Amen, said the Grand Master with solemnity. But we must deserve his aid. I tell thee, Conrad, that neither the powers in heaven nor the powers on earth will longer endure the wickedness of this generation. My intelligence is sure. The ground on which our fabric is reared is already undermined, and each addition we make to the structure of our greatness will only sink it the sooner in the abyss. We must retrace our steps, and show ourselves the faithful champions of the cross, Sacrificing to our calling, not alone our blood and our lives, not alone our lusts and our vices, but our ease, our comforts, and our natural affections, and act as men convinced that many a pleasure which may be lawful to others is forbidden to the vowed soldier of the temple.
At this moment a squire, clothed in a threadbare vestment, For the aspirants after this holy order wore during their novitiate the cast-off garments of the knights, entered the garden, and, bowing profoundly before the Grand Master, stood silent, awaiting his permission ere he presumed to tell his errand. Is it not more seemly, said the Grand Master, to see this Damien, clothed in the garments of Christian humility, thus appear with reverend silence before his superior, than but two days since When the fond fool was decked in a painted coat, and jangling as pert and as proud as any popinjay? Speak, Damien, we permit thee. What is thine errand? A Jew stands without the gate, noble and reverend father, said the squire, who prays to speak with brother Brian de Bois-Gilbert.
Thou wert right to give me knowledge of it, said the grand master. In our presence a preceptor is but as a common compare of our order, Who may not walk according to his own will, but to that of his master, even according to the text, in the hearing of the ear he hath obeyed me. It imports us especially to know of this Bois-Gilbert's proceedings, said he, turning to his companion. Report speaks of him brave and valiant, said Conrad. And truly is he so spoken of, said the Grand Master. In our valor only are we not degenerated from our predecessors, the heroes of the cross. But Brother Brian came into our order a moody and disappointed man, stirred, I doubt me, to take our vows and to renounce the world, not in sincerity of soul, but as one whom some touch of light discontent had driven into penitence.
Since then he hath become an active and earnest agitator, a murmurer, and a machinator, And a leader amongst those who impugn our authority, not considering that the rule is given to the master even by the symbol of the staff and the rod, the staff to support the infirmities of the weak, the rod to correct the faults of delinquents. Damien, he continued, lead the Jew to our presence. The squire departed with a profound reverence, and in a few minutes returned, marshalling in Isaac of York. No naked slave, ushered into the presence of some mighty prince, could approach his judgment-seat with more profound reverence and terror than that which the Jew drew near to the presence of the grand master.
When he had approached within the distance of three yards, Beaumenois made a sign with his staff that he should come no farther. The Jew kneeled down on the earth, which he kissed in token of reverence. Then, rising, stood before the Templars, his hands folded on his bosom, His head bowed on his breast, in all the submission of Oriental slavery. Damien, said the Grand Master, retire and have a guard ready to await our sudden call, and suffer no one to enter the garden until we shall leave it. The squire bowed and retreated. Jew, continued the haughty old man. Mark me, it suits not our condition to hold with thee long communication, nor do we waste words nor time upon any one. Wherefore, be brief in thy answers to what questions I shall ask thee, and let thy words be of truth, for if thy tongue doubles with me, I will have it torn from thy misbelieving jaws.
The Jew was about to reply, but the Grand Master went on. Peace, unbeliever! Not a word in our presence, save in answer to our questions. What is thy business with our brother, Brian de Bois-Gilbert? Isaak gasped with terror and uncertainty. To tell his tale might be interpreted into scandalizing the order. Yet, unless he told it, what hope could he have of achieving his daughter's deliverance? Beaumanois saw his mortal apprehension, and condescended to give him some assurance. Fear nothing, he said, for thy wretched person, Jew, so thou dealest uprightly in this matter. I demand again to know from thee thy business with Brian de Bois-Gilbert. "'I am the bearer of a letter,' stammered out the Jew.
"'So please your reverend valor to that good knight from Prior Eimer of the Abbey of Gerval.' "'Said I not these were evil times, Conrad?' said the master. "'A Cistercian prior sends a letter to a soldier of the temple, and can find no more fitting messenger than an unbelieving Jew.' Give me the letter. The Jew, with trembling hands, undid the folds of his Armenian cap, in which he had deposited the prior's tablets for the greater security, and was about to approach, with hand extended and body crouched, to place it within the reach of his grim interrogator. Back, dog! said the grand master. I touch not misbelievers, save with the sword. Conrad, take thou the letter from the Jew, and give it to me.
Beaumanois, being thus possessed of the tablets, inspected the outside carefully, and then proceeded to undo the pack-thread which secured its folds. "'Reverend father,' said Conrad, interposing, though with much deference, "'wilt thou break the seal?' "'And will I not?' said Beaumanois, with a frown. "'Is it not written in the forty-second capital, Delectione Literarum, that a Templar shall not receive a letter?' No, not from his father, without communicating the same to the Grand Master, and reading it in his presence? He then perused the letter in haste, with an expression of surprise and horror. Read it over again more slowly, then holding it out to Conrad with one hand, and slightly striking it with the other, exclaimed, Here is goodly stuff for one Christian man to write to another, and both members, and no inconsiderable members, of religious professions.
When... said he solemnly, and looking upward, "'wilt thou come with thy fanners to purge the threshing-floor?' Mount Vichet took the letter from his superior, and was about to peruse it. "'Read it aloud, Conrad,' said the Grand Master, "'and do thou,' to Isaac, "'attend to the purport of it, for we will question thee concerning it.' Conrad read the letter which was in these words. Aimer, by divine grace, prior of the Cistercian house of St. Mary's of Gerval, to Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert, a knight of the holy order of the temple, wisheth health with the bounties of King Bacchus and of my Lady Venus. Touching our present condition, dear brother, we are a captive in the hands of certain lawless and godless men, who have not feared to detain our person and put us to ransom, whereby we have also learned a front to Booth's misfortune, and that thou hast escaped with that fair Jewish sorceress, whose black eyes have bewitched thee.
We are heartily rejoiced of thy safety. Nevertheless, we pray thee to be on thy guard in the matter of this second witch of Endor. For we are privately assured that your great master, who careth not a bean for cherry cheeks and black eyes, comes from Normandy to diminish your mirth and amend your misdoings. Wherefore, we pray you heartily to beware, and to be found watching, even as the holy text hath it, invenienter vigilantis. And the wealthy Jew her father, Isaac of York, having prayed of me letters in his behalf, I give him these, earnestly advising, and in a sort entreating, that you do hold the damsel to ransom, seeing he will pay you from his bags as much as may find fifty damsels upon safer terms, Whereof I trust to have my part when we make merry together, as true brothers, not forgetting the wine-cup, for what saith the text, Vinum le'tificat cor hominis, and again, Rex delictabitur pulchritin tua.
Till which merry meeting we shall wish you farewell, given from this den of thieves about the hour of matins, Amr prior S. M. Gervalcyanus. Postscriptum. Truly your golden chain hath not long abidden with me, and will now sustain, around the neck of an outlaw deer-stealer, the whistle wherewith he calleth on his hounds. What sayest thou to this, Conrad? said the Grand Master. Den of thieves, and a fit residence is a den of thieves for such a prior. No wonder that the hand of God is upon us, and that in the Holy Land we lose, place by place, foot by foot, before the infidels, When we have such churchmen as this Aemer. And what meaneth he, I trow, by the second witch of Endor? said he to his confidant something apart.
Conrad was better acquainted, perhaps by practice, with the jargon of gallantry than was his superior, and he expounded the passage which embarrassed the grand master to be a sort of language used by worldly men towards those whom they loved par amours, But the explanation did not satisfy the bigoted beaumanois. There is more in it than thou dost guess, Conrad. Thy simplicity is no match for this deep abyss of wickedness. This Rebekah of York was a pupil of that Miriam of whom thou hast heard. Thou shalt hear the Jew own it even now. Then, turning to Isaac, he said aloud, Thy daughter, then, is a prisoner with Brian de Bois-Gilbert? Ay, reverend valorous sir, stammered poor Isaac, and whatever ransom a poor man may pay for her deliverance, peace, said the grand master.
This thy daughter hath practised the art of healing, hath she not? Ay, gracious sir, answered the Jew with more confidence, and knight and yeoman, squire and vassal, may bless the goodly gift which heaven hath assigned to her. Many a one can testify that she hath recovered them by her art, When every other human aid hath proved vain, but the blessing of the God of Jacob was upon her. Beau-manois turned to Mount Fichet with a grim smile. See, brother, he said, the deceptions of the devouring enemy. Behold the baits with which he fishes for souls, giving a poor space of earthly life in exchange for eternal happiness hereafter. Well said our blessed rule, Semper percutiator leo vorans. Up on the lion, down with the destroyer, said he, shaking aloft his mystic abacus, as if in defiance of the powers of darkness.
Thy daughter worketh the cures, I doubt not, thus he went on to address the Jew, by words and sighs, and periaps, and other cabalistical mysteries. Nay, reverend and brave knight, answered Isaac, but in chief measure by a balsam of marvellous virtue. Where had she that secret? said Beau-manois. "'It was delivered to her,' answered Isaac reluctantly, "'by Miriam, a sage matron of our tribe.' "'Ah, false Jew!' said the Grand Master. "'Was it not from that same witch, Miriam, "'the abomination of whose enchantments "'have been heard of throughout every Christian land?' exclaimed the Grand Master, crossing himself. "'Her body was burnt at a stake, "'and her ashes were scattered to the four winds.
And so be it with me and mine order, if I do not as much to her pupil, and more also. I will teach her to throw a spell and incantation over the soldiers of the blessed temple. There, Damien, spurn this Jew from the gate. Shoot him dead if he oppose or turn again. With his daughter we will deal as the Christian law and our own high office warrant. Poor Isaac was hurried off accordingly, and expelled from the preceptory. All his entreaties, and even his offers, unheard and disregarded. He could do not better than return to the house of the rabbi, and endeavor, through his means, to learn how his daughter was to be disposed of. He had hitherto feared for her honor. He was now to tremble for her life.
Meanwhile, the Grand Master ordered to his presence the preceptor of Templestowe.
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I.
by Sir Walter Scott. Chapter 36 Say not my art is fraud. All live by seeming. The beggar begs with it, and the gay courtier gains land and title, rank and rule by seeming. The clergy scorn it not, and the bold soldier will ache it out with his service. All admit it, all practice it, and he who is content with showing what he is shall have small credit, in church or camp or state, so wags the world. Old Play Albert Malvescene, president, or in the language of the order, preceptor of the establishment of Templestowe, was brother to that Philip Malvescene who had been already occasionally mentioned in this history, and was, like that Baron, in close league with Brian de Bois-Gilbert. Amongst dissolute and unprincipled men, of whom the temple order included but too many, Albert of Templestowe might be distinguished, but with this difference from the audacious Baud-Gilbert, that he knew how to throw over his vices and his ambition the veil of hypocrisy, and to assume in his exterior the fanaticism which he internally despised.
Had not the arrival of the Grand Master been so unexpectedly sudden, he would have seen nothing at Templestowe which might have appeared to argue any relaxation of discipline. And, even although surprised, and to a certain extent detected, Albert Malvesyne listened with such respect and apparent contrition to the rebuke of his superior, and made such haste to perform the particulars he censured, succeeded, in fine, so well in giving an air of aesthetic devotion to a family which had been lately devoted to license and pleasure, That Lucas Boisimoire began to entertain a higher opinion of the preceptor's morals than the first appearance of the establishment had inclined him to adopt. But these favorable sentiments on the part of the grand master were greatly shaken by the intelligence that Albert had received within house of religion the Jewish captive, and, as was to be feared, the paramour of a brother of the order.
And when Albert appeared before him, He was regarded with unwonted sternness. "'There is in this mansion dedicated to the purpose of the holy order of the temple,' said the Grand Master, in a severe tone, "'a Jewish woman, brought hither by a brother of religion, by your connivance, Sir Preceptor.' Albert Malvesyne was overwhelmed with confusion. For the unfortunate Rebecca had been confined in a remote and secret part of the building, and every precaution used to prevent her residence there from being known. He read in the looks of Bois-Menoir ruined to Bois-Gilbert, and to himself, unless he should be able to avert the impending storm. "'Why are you mute?' continued the grandmaster. "'Is it permitted for me to reply?' answered the preceptor.
in a tone of the deepest humility, although by the question he was only meant to gain an instant space for arranging his ideas. Speak! You are permitted, said the Grand Master. Speak, and say, knowest thou the capital of our holy rule? De camiltonibus temple in sanctus civitate quicum miserimus misleribus vasantur proptur oblectantinum carnus? Surely, most revered father, answered the preceptor, I have not risen to this office in the order, being ignorant of one of its most important prohibitions. How comes it then, I demand of thee once more, that thou hast suffered a brother to bring a paramour, and that paramour a Jewish sorceress, into this holy place, to the stain and pollution thereof? A Jewish sorceress, echoed Albert Malvesyne.
Good angels guard us. "'Ay, brother, a Jewish sorceress,' said the grandmaster sternly, "'I have said it. Darest thou deny that this Rebecca, the daughter of that wretched usurer, Isaac of York, and the pupil of the fowl witch Miriam, is now, shame to be thought or spoken, lodged within this thy preceptory?' "'Your wisdom, revered father,' answered the preceptor. Hath rolled away the darkness from my understanding. Much did I wonder that so good a knight as Brian Dubois-Gilbert seemed so fondly besotted on the charms of this female, whom I received into this house merely to place a bar betwixt their growing intimacy, which else might have been cemented at the expense of the fall of our valiant and religious brother.
Hath nothing then as yet passed betwixt them in breach of his vow? demanded the grandmaster. "'What? Under this roof?' said the preceptor, crossing himself. "'Saint Magdalene and the ten thousand virgins forbid!' No, if I have sinned in receiving her here, it was in the airing thought that I might thus break off our brother's besotted devotion to this juice, which seemed to me so wild and unnatural, that I could not but ascribe it to some touch of insanity, More to be cured by pity than reproof. But since your reverend wisdom hath discovered this Jewish queen to be a sorceress, perchance it may account fully for his—enamoured folly. It doth, it doth, said Warnemar. See, brother Conrad, the peril of yielding to the first devices and blandishments of Satan.
We look upon woman only to gratify the lust of the eye. And to take pleasure in what men call her beauty. And the ancient enemy, the devouring lion, obtains power over us, to complete by talisman and spell a work which was begun by idleness and folly. It may be that our brother Bois-Gilbert does in this matter deserve rather pity than severe chastisement, rather the support of the staff, than the strokes of the rod, And that our admonitions and prayers may turn him from his folly, and restore him to his brethren. It was a deep pity, said Conrad Monfichet, to lose to the order one of its best lances when the holy community most requires the eight of its sons. Three hundred sarsakins has this Brian de Bois-Gilbert slain with his own hand.
The blood of these accursed dogs! said the grandmaster, shall be a sweet and acceptable offering to the saints and angels whom they despise and blaspheme, and with their aid we will counteract the spells and charms with which our brother is entwined as in a net. He shall burst the bands of this Delilah, as Samson bursts the two new cords with which the Philistines had bound him, and shall slaughter the infidels even heaps upon heaps, But concerning this foul witch, who hath flung her enchantments over a brother of the holy temple, assuredly she shall die the death? But the laws of England, said the preceptor, who, though delighted that the Grand Master's resentment, thus fortunately averted from himself and Bois-de-Gilbert, had taken another direction, began now to fear he was carrying it too far.
"'The laws of England,' interrupted Bois-Manoir, Permit and enjoin each judge to execute justice within his own jurisdiction. The most petty baron may arrest, try, and condemn a witch found within his own domain. And shall that power be denied to the grand master of the temple within a preceptory of his order? No. We will judge and condemn. The witch shall be taken out of the land, and the wickedness thereof shall be forgiven. Prepare the castle hall for the trial of the sorceress. Albert Malvescine bowed and retired, not to give directions for preparing the hall, but to seek out Brian de Bois-Gilbert, and to communicate to him how matters were likely to terminate. It was not long ere he found him foaming with indignation at a repulse he had anew sustained from the fair Jewess.
"'The unthinking,' he said, "'the ungrateful,' To scorn him who, amidst blood and flames, would have saved her life at the risk of his own? By heaven, Malvisine, I abode roofing rafters crackled and crashed around me. I was the butt of a hundred arrows. They rattled on mine armor like hailstones against a lattice casement, and the only use I made of my shield was for her protection. This did I endure for her. And now the self-willed girl upbraids me that I did not leave her to perish, and refuses me not only the slightest proof of gratitude, but even the most distant hope that ever she will be brought to grant any. The devil that possessed her race with obstinacy has concentrated its full force in her single person.
"'The devil,' said the preceptor, "'I think possessed you both.' How oft have I preached to you caution, if not continence? Did I not tell you that there were enough willing Christian damsels to be met with who would think it sin to refuse so brave a knight? Le don de la mer est, merci, and you must needs anchor your affection on a willful, obstinate Jewess. By the mass, I think old Lucas Bois-Manoir guessed right when he maintains he hath cast a spell over you. Lucas Bois-Manoir? said Wadoguerre reproachfully. Are these your precautions, Malbecine? Hast thou suffered the daughter to learn that Rebecca is in the preceptory? How can I help it? said the preceptor. I neglected nothing that could keep secret your mystery, but it is betrayed, and whether by the devil or no, the devil only can tell.
But I have turned the matter as I could. You are safe if you renounce Rebecca. You are pitied. The victim of magical delusion. She is a sorceress, and must suffer as such. She shall not, by heaven," said Bois-Gilbert. By heaven she must and will, said Malvisine. Neither you nor no one else can save her. Lucas Bermanoir has settled that the death of a Jewish will be a sin-offering sufficient to atone for all the amorous indulgences of the Knights Templars. And thou knowest he hath both a Power and will to execute so reasonable and pious a purpose. "'Were future ages believe that such stupid bigotry ever existed?' said Wigilbert, striding up and down the apartment. "'What they may believe I know not,' said Malvacine calmly.
"'But I know well that in this our day clergy and laymen take ninety-nine to the hundred will cry Amen to the Grand Master's sentence.' I have it," said Wagobert. "'Albert, thou art my friend. Thou must connive at her escape, Malvacine, and I will transport her to some place of greater security and secrecy." "'I cannot, if I would,' replied the preceptor. "'The mansion is filled with the attendance of the grandmaster and others who are devoted to him. And to be frank with you, brother, I would not embark with you in this matter, even if I could hope to bring my bark to heaven.' I have risked enough already for your sake. I have no mind to encounter a sentence of degradation, or even to lose my preceptory for the sake of a painted piece of Jewish flesh and blood.
And you, if you will be guided by my counsel, will give up this wild-goose chase, and fly your hawk at some other game. Think, Bois-Gilbert, thy present rank, thy future honors all depend on the place and the order. Shouldst thou adhere pervasely to thy passion for this rebecca, thou wilt give Wamenwa the power of expelling thee, and he will not neglect it. He is jealous of the truncheon which he holds in his trembling gripe, and he knows thou stretchest thy bold hand towards it. Doubt not he will ruin thee, if thou affordest him a pretext so fair as thy protection of a Jewish sorceress. Give him his scope in this matter. For thou canst not control him. When the staff is in thine own firm grasp, thou mayest caress the daughters of Judah, or burn them as else best suit thine own human.
Malvachin, said Bois Gilbert, thou art a cold-blooded friend, said the preceptor, hastening to fill up the blank, in which Bois Gilbert would probably have placed a worse word. A cold-blooded friend I am. And therefore more fit to give thee advice. I tell thee once more that thou canst not save Rebekah. I tell thee once more that thou canst but perish with her. Go, hie thee to the grand master, throw thyself at his feet, and tell him—not at his feet, by heaven! But to the Doddard's very beard will I say—say to him then to his beard, continued Malvisine coolly. That you loved the captive Jewess to distraction. And the more thou dost enlarge on thy passion, the greater will be his haste to end it by the death of the fair enchantress, while thou, taken in flagrant derelict by the avowal of a crime contrary to thine oath, canst hope no aid of thy brethren, and must exchange all thy brilliant visions of ambition and power to lift perhaps a mercenary spear in some of the petty quarrels between Flanders and Burgundy.
Thou speakest the truth, Malvisine, said Brian de Bois-Gilbert, after a moment's reflection. I will give the hoary bigot no advantage over me, and for Rebecca she hath not merited at my hand that I should expose rank and honor for her sake. I will cast her off. Yes, I will leave her to her fate, unless—Qualify not thy wise and necessary resolution, said Malvisine. Women are but the toys which must amuse our lighter hours. Ambition is a serious business of life. Perish a thousand but frail baubles as this Jewess before thy madly step pause in the brilliant career that lies stretched before thee. For the present we part. Nor must we be seen to hold close conversation. I must order the hall for his judgment seat.
What? said Wager Bear. So soon? Aye, replied the preceptor. Trial moves rapidly on when the judge has determined the sentence beforehand. Rebecca, said Wiglbert, when he was left alone, thou art like to cause me dear. Why cannot I abandon thee to thy fate, as this calm hypocrite recommends? One effort will I make to save thee, but beware of ingratitude. For if I am again repulsed, my vengeance shall equal my love. The life and honor of Bois-Gilbert must not be hazarded, where contempt and reproaches are his only reward. The preceptor had hardly given the necessary orders when he was joined by Conrad Montfichet, who acquainted him with the Grand Master's resolution to bring the Jewish to instant trial for sorcery.
It is surely a dream, said the preceptor. We have many Jewish physicians. We call them not wizards, though they work wonderful cures. The Grand Master thinks otherwise, said Mon Fichet. And Albert, I would be upright with thee, wizard or not, if it were better that this miserable damsel die, than that Brian D. Wigilbert should be lost to the order, or the order divided by internal dissension. Thou knowest his high rank, his fame and arms, thou knowest the zeal with which many of our brethren regard him. But all this will not avail him with our grand master, should he consider Brian as the accomplice, not the victim, of this Jewess. Were the souls of the twelve tribes in a single body it were better she suffered alone than that Brian Gilbert be partner in her destruction.
I have been working with him even now to abandon her, said Marvisine. But still are there grounds enough to condemn this Rebecca for sorcery? Will not the grandmaster change his mind when he sees that the proofs are so weak? They must be strengthened, Albert, replied Martin Fischer. They must be strengthened. Dost thou understand me? I do, said the preceptor. Nor do I scruple to do art for advancement of the order. There is little time to find engines fitting. Malversy, they must be found, said Conrad. Well will it advantage both order and they. This temple-stow is a poor preceptory, that of Maison-Dieu. It is double its value. Thou knowest my interest with our old chief. Find those who can carry this matter through, and thou art preceptor of Maison-Dieu in the fertile Kent.
How sayest thou? There is, replied Malvassin, among those who came hither with Bois-Gilbert, two fellows whom I well know, servants they were to my brother Philip de Malvassin. and pass from his service to that of Fontibouffe. It may be they know something of the witcheries of this woman. Away, seek them out instantly, and hark thee. If a byzant or two will sharpen their memory, let them not be wanting. They would swear the mother that Paul did was sorceress for a zetchen, said the preceptor. Away, then, said Montefiachet. At noon the affair will proceed. I have not seen our senior in such earnest preparation since he condemned to the stake Hamid al-Faghi, a convert who relapsed to the Moslem faith.
The ponderous castle bell had tolled at the point of noon, when Rebekah heard a trampling of feet upon the private stair which led to her place of confinement. The noise announced the arrival of several persons, and the circumstance rather gave her joy, For she was more afraid of the solitary visits of the fierce and passionate Roigle-Beart than of any evil that could befall her besides. The door of the chamber was unlocked, and Conrad and the preceptor Malvescene entered, attended by four warders clothed in black and bearing halberds. Daughter of an accursed race, said the preceptor, arise and follow us. Whither? said Rebecca. And for what purpose? Damsel! answered Conrad. It is not for thee to question, but to obey.
Nevertheless be it known to thee that thou art to be brought before the tribunal of the grandmaster of our holy order, there to answer for thine offenses. May the God of Abraham be praised, said Rebekah, folding her hands devoutly. The name of a judge, though an unwilling enemy to my people, is to me as the name of a protector. Most willingly do I follow thee. Permit me only to wrap my veil about my head. They descended the stair with a slow and solemn step, traversed a long gallery, and by a pair of folding doors placed at the end entered the great hall in which the Grand Master had for the time established his court of justice. The lower part of this ample apartment was filled with squires and yeomen, who made way not without some difficulty for Rebecca, attended by the preceptor in Montfouchet, and followed by the guard of Halabediers, to move forward to the seat appointed for her.
As she passed through the crowd, her arms folded and her head depressed, a scrap of paper was thrust into her hand, which she received almost unconsciously, and continued to hold without examining its contents. The assurance that she possessed some friend in this awful assembly gave her courage to look around. and to mark into whose presence she had been conducted, she gazed accordingly upon the scene, which we shall endeavor to describe in the next chapter.
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The law was the law which bade its votaries leave. Had human woes with human hearts to grieve. Stern was the law which at the winning while of frank and harmless mirth forbade to smile. But sterner still when high the iron rod of tyrant power she shook, and called that power of God. The Middle Ages. The Tribunal, erected for the trial of the innocent and unhappy Rebecca, occupied the dais or elevated part of the upper end of the great hall, a platform which we have already described as the place of honor destined to be occupied by the most distinguished inhabitants or guests of an ancient mansion.
On an elevated seat directly before the accused sat the grand master of the temple, in full and ample robes of flowing white, Holding in his hand the mystic staff which bore the symbol of the order, at his feet was placed a table occupied by two scribes, chaplains of the order, whose duty it was to reduce to formal record the proceedings of the day. The black dresses, bare scalps, and demure looks of these churchmen formed a strong contrast to the warlike appearance of the knights who attended, either as residing in the preceptory or as come hither to attend upon their grand master. The preceptors, of whom there were four present, occupied seats lower in height, and somewhat drawn back behind that of their superior, and the knights, who enjoyed no such rank in the order, were placed on benches still lower, and preserving the same distance from the preceptors as these from the grand master.
Behind them, but still upon the dais, or elevated portion of the hall, stood the esquires of the order, in white dresses of an inferior quality. The whole assembly wore an aspect of the most profound gravity, and in the faces of the knights might be perceived traces of military daring, united with solemn carriage becoming men of religious profession, and which, in the presence of their grand master, failed not to sit upon every brow. The remaining and lower part of the hall was filled with guards, holding partisans, and with other attendants whom curiosity had drawn thither, To see at once a grand master and a Jewish sorceress. By far the greater part of the inferior persons were, in one rank or another, connected with the order, and were accordingly distinguished by their black dresses.
But peasants from the neighboring country were not refused admittance, for it was the pride of boar-minoir to render the edifying spectacle of the justice which he administered as public as possible. His large blue eyes seemed to expand as he gazed around the assembly, and his countenance appeared elated by the conscious dignity and imaginary merit of the part which he was about to perform. A psalm, which he himself accompanied with a deep, mellow voice, which age had not deprived of its powers, commenced the proceedings of the day, and the solemn sounds, Finite exultimus domino, So often sung by the Templars before engaging with earthly adversaries, was judged by Lucas most appropriate to introduce the approaching triumph, for such he deemed it over the powers of darkness.
The deep, prolonged notes, raised by a hundred masculine voices, accustomed to combine in the choral chant, arose to the vaulted roof of the hall and rolled on amongst its arches with the pleasing yet solemn sound of the rushing of mighty waters.
When the sounds ceased, the grand master glanced his eyes slowly around the circle, and observed that the seat of one of the preceptors was vacant. Brian de Bois-Gilbert, by whom it had been occupied, had left his place, and was now standing near the extreme corner of one of the benches occupied by the knights-companions of the temple, one hand extending his long mantle, so as in some degree to hide his face, while the other held his cross-handled sword, At the point of which, sheathed as it was, he was slowly drawing lines upon the oaken floor. Unhappy man, said the Grand Master, after favoring him with a glance of compassion. Thou seest, Conrad, how this holy work distresses him. To this can the light look of woman, aided by the prince of the powers of the world, bring a valiant and worthy knight.
Seest thou? He cannot look upon us. He cannot look upon her, and who knows by what impulse from his tormentor his hand forms these cabalistic lines upon the floor. It may be our life and safety are thus aimed at, but we spit at and defy the foul enemy. Semper theer Prosecutor! This was communicated apart to his confidential follower, Conrad Montfichet. The Grand Master then raised his voice and addressed the assembly.
Reverend and valiant men, knights, preceptors, and companions of this holy order, my brethren and my children, you also, well-born and pious Esquires, who aspire to wear this holy cross, and you also, Christian brethren, of every degree, be it known to you that it is not defective power in us which has occasioned the assembling of this congregation, However unworthy in our person, yet to us is committed, with this platoon, full power to judge and to try all that regards the weal of this our holy order. Holy St. Bernard, in the rule of our knightly and religious profession, hath said in the fifty-ninth capital that he would not that brethren be called together in council, save at the will and command of the master, leaving it free to us.
As to those more worthy fathers who have preceded us in our office, to judge as well of the occasion as that of time and place in which a chapter of the whole order, or of any part thereof, may be convoked. Also, in all such chapters, it is our duty to hear the advice of our brethren, and to proceed according to our own pleasure. But when the raging wolf hath made an inroad upon the flock, and carried off one member thereof. It is the duty of the kind shepherd to call his comrades together, that with bows and slings they may quell the invader, according to our well-known rule, that the lion is ever to be beaten down. We have, therefore, summoned to our presence a Jewish woman by name Rebekah, daughter of Isaac of York.
A woman infamous for sortilages and for witcheries, whereby she hath maddened the blood and besotted the brain, not of a churl, but of a knight, not of a secular knight, but of one devoted to the service of the holy temple, not of a knight-companion, but of a preceptor of our order, first in honour as in place. Our brother, Brian de Bois-Gilbert is well known to ourselves, and to all degrees who now hear me. As a true and zealous champion of the cross, by whom's army may deeds of valor have been wrought in the Holy Land, and the holy place is purified from pollution by the blood of those infidels who defiled them. Neither have our brother's sagacity and prudence been less in repute among his brethren than his valor and discipline.
In so much that knights, both in eastern and western lands, have named Dubois-Gilbert as one who may well be put in nomination as successor to this platoon, when it shall please heaven to release us from the toil of bearing it. If we were told that such a man, so honoured and so honourable, suddenly casting away regard for his character, his vows, his brethren, and his prospects, Has associated to himself a Jewish damsel, wandered in his lewd company through solitary places, defended her person in preference to his own, and finally was so utterly blinded and besotted by his folly as to bring her even to one of our own preceptories. What should we say but that noble knight was possessed by some evil demon, or influenced by some wicked spell?
If we could suppose it otherwise, think not rank, valour, high repute, or any earthly consideration, should prevent us from visiting with him punishment, that the evil thing might be removed. Even according to the text, a frute malum es vorbes, for various and heinous are the acts of transgression against the rule of our blessed order in this lamentable history. First, He hath walked according to his proper will, contrary to the 33. Quod nullis juxta proprium voluntatum incitat. Second, he has held communication with an excommunicated person. Ut fratres non participant cum excommunicatus. and therefore hath a portion in anethema mananethera. Third, he hath conversed with strange women, contrary to the capital, ut fratres non conversetur cum extranius muleriubus.
Fourth, he hath not avoided, nay, he hath, it is to be feared, solicited the kiss of woman, By which saith the last rule of our renowned order, Ut fugientur oscula, the soldiers of the cross are brought into a snare. For which heinous and multiplied guilt, Brian de Bois-Gilbert should be cut off and cast out from our congregation, were he the right hand and right eye thereof. He paused. A low murmur went through the assembly. Some of the younger part. who had been inclined to smile at the statute, diosculus fugindius, became now grave enough, and anxiously waited what the grand master was next to propose. Such, he said, and are so great should indeed be the punishment of a knight-templar, who willfully offended against the rules of his order in such weighty points, If by means of charms and of spells Satan had obtained dominion over the knight, perchance because he cast his eyes too lightly upon a damsel's beauty, we are then rather to lament than chastise his backsliding, and imposing on him only such penance as may purify him from his inequity.
We are to turn the full edge of our indignation upon the accursed instrument. which had so well nigh occasioned his utter falling away. Stand forth, therefore, and bear witness, ye who have witnessed these unhappy doings, that we may judge of the sum and bearing thereof, and judge whether our justice may be satisfied with the punishment of this infidel woman, or, if we must go on with a bleeding heart, to the further proceeding against our brother. Several witnesses were called upon to prove the risks to which Wigilbert exposed himself in endeavoring to save Rebecca from the Blazin Castle, and his neglect of his personal defense in attending to her safety. The men gave these details with the exaggerations common to vulgar minds which have been strongly excited by any remarkable event, and their natural disposition to the marvelous was greatly increased by the satisfaction which their evidence seemed to afford to the eminent person for whose information it had been delivered.
Thus the dangers which Bois-Gilbert surmounted, in themselves sufficiently great, became portentous in their narrative. The devotion of the knight to Rebekah's defense was exaggerated beyond the bounds, not only of discretion, but even of the most frantic excess of chivalrous zeal. And his deference to what she said, even though her language was often severe and upbraiding, was painted as carried to an excess which, in a man of his haughty temper, seemed almost preternatural. The preceptor of Templestowe was then called upon to describe the manner in which Bois-Gilbert and the Jewess arrived at the preceptory. The evidence of Maloisin was skilfully guarded. But while he apparently studied to spare his feelings of Waugeaubert, he threw in, from time to time, such hints as seemed to infer that he had labored under some temporary alienation of mind.
So deeply did he appear to be enamored of the damsel whom he brought along with him. With sighs of penitence, the preceptor avowed his own contrition for having admitted Rebecca and her lover within the walls of the preceptory. But my defence, he concluded, has been made in my confession to our most revered father, the Grand Master. He knows my motives were not evil, though my conduct may have been irregular. Joyfully will I submit to any penance he shall assign me. "'Thou hast spoken well, brother Albert,' said Waminoir. "'Thy motives were good since thou Judge it right to arrest thine erring brother in his career of precipitate folly. But thy conduct was wrong, as he that would stop a runaway steed, in seizing by the stirrup instead of the bridle, receiveth injury himself, instead of accomplishing his purpose.
Thirteen paternosters are assigned by our pious founder for Matins, and nine for Vespers. Be those services doubled by thee. Thrice a week are Templars permitted the use of flesh, but do thou keep fast for all the seven days. This do for six weeks to come, and thy penance is accomplished. With a hypocritical look of the deepest submission, the preceptor of Templestowe bowed to the ground before his superior, and resumed his seat. Were it not well, brethren, said the grand master, that we examine something into the former life and conversation of this woman, specially that we may discover whether she be one likely to use magical charms and spells, since the truths which we have heard may well incline us to suppose, that in this unhappy course our erring brother has been acted upon by some infernal enticement and delusion?
Hermann of Goudlric was the fourth preceptor present. The other three were Conrad, Malvassin, and Wigilbert himself. Hermann was an ancient warrior, whose face was marked with scars inflicted by the sabre of the Moslem, and had great rank and consideration among his brethren. He arose and bowed to the Grand Master, who instantly granted him license of speech.
"'I would crave to know—' Most reverend father of our valiant brother, Brian de Bois-Gilbert, what he says to these wondrous accusations, and with what I, he himself, now regards his unhappy intercourse with this Jewish maiden. Brian de Bois-Gilbert, said the Grand Master, thou hearest the question which our brother of Guterric desirest thou shouldst answer. "'I command thee to reply to him.' Bois-Gilbert turned his head toward the Grand Master, when thus addressed, and remained silent. "'He is possessed by a dumb devil,' said the Grand Master. "'Avoid thee, Satanus. Speak, Brian de Bois-Gilbert. I conjure thee by this symbol of our holy order.' Bois-Gilbert made an effort to suppress his rising scorn and indignation.
The expression of which, he was well aware, would have little availed him. "'Brian, de Bois-Gilbert,' he answered, "'replies not, most revered father, to such wild and vague charges. If his honour be impeached, he will defend it with his body, and with that soul which he has oft fought for Christendom.' "'We forgive thee, brother Brian,' said the grandmaster. Though that thou hast boasted thy warlike achievement before us is a glorifying of thine own deeds, and cometh of the enemy, who tempteth us to exalt our own worship. But thou hast our pardon, judging thou speakest less of thine own suggestion, than from the impulse of him by whom heavens leave, we will quell and drive forth from our assembly.
A glance of disdain flashed from the dark, fierce eyes of Wallyubert, but he made no reply. "'And now,' pursued the Grand Master, "'since our brother of Godelric's question has thus been imperfectly answered, "'pursue we our guest, brethren, and with our patron's assistance we will search to the bottom of this mystery of inequity.' That those who have ought to witness the life and conversation of this Jewish woman stand forth before us.
There was a bustle in the lower part of the hall, and when the grand master inquired the reason it was replied there was in the crowd a bedridden man, whom the prisoner had restored to the perfect use of his limbs by a miraculous balsam.
The poor peasant A Saxon by birth was dragged forward to the bar, terrified at the penal consequences which he might have incurred by the guilt of having been cursed of the palsy by a Jewish damsel. Perfectly cured, he certainly was not, for he supported himself forward on crutches to give evidence. Most unwilling was his testimony, and given with many tears, but he admitted that two years since, when residing at York, He was suddenly afflicted with a sore disease, while laboring for Isaac, the rich Jew, in his vocation of a joiner, that he had been unable to stir from his bed until the remedies applied by Rebecca's directions, and especially a warming and spicy-smelling balsam, had in some degree restored him to the use of his limbs.
Moreover, he said, she had given him a pot of that precious ointment, and furnished him with a piece of money withal, to return to the house of his father, near to Templestowe. May it please your gracious reverence, said the man. I cannot think the damsel meant harm by me, though she hath the ill hap to be a Jewess, for even when I used her remedy, I said the pater and his creed, and it never operated a whit less kindly.
Peace, slave, said the grandmaster, and be golden. It well suits brutes like thee to be tapering and trinketing with hellish cures, and to be giving your labour to the sons of mischief. I tell thee, the fiend can impose diseases for the very purpose of removing them, in order to bring into credit some diabolical fashion of cure. Hast thou that ugent of which thou speakest? The peasant, fumbling in his bosom with a trembling hand, produced a small box, bearing some Hebrew characters on the lid, which was, with most of the audience, a sure proof that the devil had stood apothecary. Wamanwar, after crossing himself, took the box into his hand, and, learned in most of the eastern tongues, read with ease the motto on the lid, The Lion of the tribe of Judah hath conquered.
Strange powers of Satanus, which can convert scripture into blasphemy, mingling poison with our necessary food. Is there no leech here who can tell us the ingredients of this mystic ungent? Two mediciners, as they called themselves, the one a monk, the other a barber, appeared, and avouched they knew nothing of the materials, excepting that they savoured of myrrh and campyr, which they took to be oriental herbs. But with true professional hatred to a successful practitioner of their art, they insinuated that, since the medicine was beyond their own knowledge, it must necessarily have been compounded from an unlawful and magical pharmacopoeia, since they themselves, though no conjurers, fully understood every branch of their art, so far as it might be exercised with the good faith of a Christian.
When this medical research was ended, The Saxon peasant desired humbly to have back the medicine which he had found so salutary, but the Grand Master frowned severely at the request. "'What is thy name, fellow?' said he to the cripple. "'Hig, the son of Snell,' answered the peasant. "'Then, Hig, son of Snell,' said the Grand Master, "'I will tell thee it is better to be bedridden.' than to accept the benefit of unbelievers' medicine that thou mayest arise and walk. Better to despoil infidels of their treasure by the strong hand, than to accept of them benevolent gifts, or do them service for wages. Go thou, and do as I have said. Alack, said the peasant, and it shall not displease your reverence.
The lesson comes too late for me. For I am but a maimed man, and I will tell my two brethren who serve the rich rabbi, Nathan ben Samuel, that your mastership says it is more lawful to rob him than to render him faithful service. Out with the plating villain, said Bois-Manoir, who was not prepared to refute this practical application of his general maxim. Hig, the son of Snell, withdrew into the crowd, but, interested in the fate of his benefactress, Lingered until he should learn her doom, even at the risk of again encountering the frown of that severe judge, the terror of which withered his very heart within him. At this period of the trial, the Grand Master commanded Rebecca to unveil herself.
Opening her lips for the first time, she replied patiently but with dignity, that it was not the want of the daughters of her people to uncover their faces when alone in an assembly of strangers. The sweet tones of her voice and the softness of her reply impressed on the audience a sentiment of pity and sympathy. But Bois-Manoir, in whose mind the suppression of each feeling of humanity, which could interfere with his imagined duty, was a virtue of itself, repeated his commands that the victim should be unveiled. The guards were about to remove her veil accordingly when she stood up before the grandmaster and said, "'Nay!' But for the love of your own daughters, alas," she said, recollecting herself, "'ye have no daughters.
Yet for the remembrance of your mothers, for the love of your sisters, and a female decency, let me not be thus handled in your presence. It suits not a maiden to be disrobed by such rude grooms. I will obey you," she added, with an expression of patient sorrow in her voice, which had almost melted the heart of Bwamanoir himself. Ye are elders among your people, and at your command I will show the features of an ill-fated maiden. She withdrew her veil, and looked on them with a countenance in which bashfulness contented with dignity. Her exceeding beauty excited a murmur of surprise, and the younger knights told each other with their eyes, in silent correspondence, that Brian's best apology was in the power of her real charms, rather than of her imaginary witchcraft.
But Higg, the son of Snell, felt most deeply the effect produced by the sight of the countenance of his benefactress. "'Let me go forth,' he said to the warders at the door of the hall. "'Let me go forth to look at her again. "'We'll kill me, for I have had a share in murdering her.' "'Peace, poor man,' said Rebecca, when she heard his exclamation. "'Thou hast done me no harm by speaking the truth. "'Thou canst not aid me by thy complaints or lamentations.' Peace, I pray thee, go home and save thyself. Higg, who was about to be thrust out by the compassion of the warders, who were apprehensive lest his clamorous grief should draw upon them reprehension, and upon himself punishment, but he promised to be silent and was permitted to remain.
The two men-at-arms, with whom Albert Malvesyne had not failed to communicate upon the import of their testimony, were now called forward. Though both were hardened and inflexible villains, the sight of their captive maiden, as well as her excelling beauty, at first appeared to stagger them. But an expressive glance from the preceptor of Templestowe restored them to their dogged composure, and they delivered, with a precision with whom, if seen suspicious to more impartial judges, circumstances either altogether fictitious or trivial, and natural in themselves, but rendered pregnant with suspicion by the exaggerated manner in which they were told, and the sinister commentary which the witnesses added to the facts.
The circumstances of their evidence would have been, in modern days, divided into two classes—those which were immaterial, and those which were actually and physically impossible. But both were, in those ignorant and superstitious times, easily credited as proofs of guilt. The first class set forth that Rebecca was heard to mutter to herself in an unknown tongue, that the songs she sung by fits were of a strangely sweet sound, which made the ears of the hearer tingle and his heart throb, that she spoke at times to herself and seemed to look upward for a reply, that her garments were of a strange and mystic form. Unlike those of women of good repute, that she had rings impressed with cabalistical devices, and that strange characters were broidered on her veil—all these circumstances, so natural and so trivial, were gravely listened to as proofs, or, at least, as affording strong suspicions that Rebecca had unlawful correspondence with mystical powers.
But there was less equivocal testimony. which the credulity of the assembly, or of the greater part, greedily swallowed. However incredible! One of the soldiers had seen her work a cure upon a wounded man, brought with them to the castle of Torkelstone. She did, he said, make certain signs upon the wound, and repeated certain mysterious words, which he, bless God, he understood not, when the iron head of a square crossbow bolt disengaged itself from the wound, The bleeding was staunched, the wound was closed, and the dying man was, within a quarter of an hour, walking upon the ramparts, and assisting the witnesses in managing a mangonel, or machine, for hurling stones. This legend was probably founded upon the fact that Rebecca had attended on the wounded Ivanhoe when in the castle of Torkelstone.
But it was the more difficult to dispute the accuracy of the witness as, in order to produce real evidence in support of his verbal testimony, he drew from his pouch the very bolt head which, according to his story, had been miraculously extracted from the wound. And as the iron weighed a full ounce, it completely confirmed the tale, however marvelous. His comrade had been a witness from a neighboring battlement of the scene between Rebecca and Bois-Gilbert, when she was upon the point of precipitating herself from the top of the tower. Not to be behind his companion, this fellow stated that he had seen Rebecca perch herself upon the parapet of the turret, and there take the form of a milk-white swan, under which appearance she flitted three times round the castle of Torkelstone, then again settle on the turret, and once more assume the female form.
Less than one-half of this weighty evidence would have been sufficient to convict any old woman, poor and ugly, even though she had not been a Jewess. United with that fatal circumstance, the body of proof was too weighty for Rebecca's youth, though combined with the most exquisite beauty. The grandmaster had collected the suffrages, and now in a solemn tone demanded of Rebecca what she had to say against a sentence of condemnation which he was about to pronounce. "'To invoke your pity,' said the lovely Jewess, with a voice somewhat tremulous with emotion, "'would, I am aware, be as useless as I should hold it mean. To state that to relieve the sick and wounded of another religion cannot be displeasing to the acknowledged founder of both our faiths were also unavailing.
To plead that many things which these men whom, may heaven pardon, have spoken against me are impossible, would avail me but little, since you believe in their possibility. And still less would it advantage me to explain that the peculiarities of my dress, language, and manners are those of my people. I had well-nigh said of my country, but, alas, we have no country, nor will I even vindicate myself at the expense of my oppressor, Who stands there listening to the fictions and surmises which seem to convert the tyrant into the victim? God be judge between him and me. But rather would I submit to ten such deaths as your pleasure may denounce against me, than listen to the suit which that man of Belial has urged upon me, friendless, defenseless, and his prisoner.
But he is of your own faith. And his lightest affirmations would weigh down the most solemn protestations of the distressed Jewish. I will not, therefore, return to himself the charge brought against me. But to himself, yes, Brian de Bois-Gilbert, to thyself I appeal. Whether these accusations are not false, as monstrous and calamitous as they are deadly. There was a pause. All eyes turned to Brian de Bois-Gilbert. He was silent. Speak, she said. If thou art a man, if thou art a Christian, speak. I conjure thee, by the habit which thou dost wear, by the name thou dost inherit, by the knighthood thou dost vaunt, by the honour of thy mother, by the tomb and the bones of thy father, I conjure thee to say, Are these things true?
Answer her, brother, said the grandmaster. If the enemy with whom thou dost wrestle will give thee power. In fact, Bois-Gilbert seemed agitated by contending passions, which almost convulsed his features, and it was with a constrained voice that at last he replied, looking to Rebecca, "'The scroll! The scroll!' "'Aye,' said Bois-Manoir, "'this is indeed testimony. The victim of her witcheries can only name the fatal scroll, the spell inscribed on which is, doubtless, the cause of his silence.' But Rebecca put another interpretation on the words extorted as if it were from Bois-Gilbert, and glancing her eye upon the slip of parchment, which she continued to hold in her hand, she read, written thereupon in the Arabian character, Demand a champion.
The murmuring commentary which ran through the assembly at the strange reply of Bois-Gilbert gave Rebecca leisure to examine and instantly to destroy the scroll unobserved. When the whisper had ceased, the Grand Master spoke. "'Rebecca, thou canst derive no benefit from the evidence of this unhappy night, for whom, as we well perceive, the enemy is yet too powerful. Hast thou aught else to say?' "'There is yet one chance of life left to me,' said Rebecca. "'Even by your own fierce laws, life has been miserable, miserable at least, of late.' But I will not cast away the gift of God while he affords me the means of defending it. I deny this charge, I maintain my innocence, and I declare the falsehood of this accusation.
I challenge the privilege of trial by combat, and will appear by my champion. And who, Rebecca, replied the Grand Master, will lay lance in rest for a sorceress? Who will be the champion of a Jewess? God will raise me up a champion, said Rebecca. It cannot be that in merry England, the hospitable, the generous, the free, where so many are ready to peril their lives for honor, that there will not be found one to fight for justice. But it is enough that I challenge the trial by combat. There lies my gauge. She took her embroidered glove from her hand, and flung it down before the Grand Master with an air of mingled simplicity and dignity. which excited universal surprise and admiration.
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There I throw my gauge to prove it on thee to the extremest point of martial daring. Richard, the second. Even Lucas Beaumanois himself was affected by the mien and appearance of Rebecca. He was not originally a cruel or even a severe man, but with passions by nature cold, and with a high, though mistaken, sense of duty, his heart had been gradually hardened by the ascetic life which he pursued, the supreme power which he enjoyed, and the supposed necessity of subduing infidelity and eradicating heresy, which he conceived peculiarly incumbent on him. His features relaxed in their usual severity, as he gazed upon the beautiful creature before him, alone, unfriended, and defending herself with so much spirit and courage.
He crossed himself twice, as doubting whence arose the unwonted softening of a heart, which on such occasions used to resemble in hardness the steel of his sword. At length he spoke. Damsel, he said, If the pity I feel for thee arise from any practice thine evil arts have made on me, great is thy guilt, but I rather judge at the kinder feelings of nature, which grieves that so goodly a form should be a vessel of perdition. Repent, my daughter, confess thy witchcrafts, turn thee from thine evil faith, embrace this holy emblem, and all shall yet be well with thee here and hereafter. In some sisterhood of the strictest order, Shalt thou have time for prayer and fitting penance, and that repentance not to be repented of?
This do and live. What has the law of Moses done for thee that thou shouldst die for it? It was the law of my fathers, said Rebekah. It was delivered in thunders and in storms upon the mountain of Sinai, in cloud and in fire. This, if ye are Christians, ye believe. It is, you say, recalled, but so my teachers have not taught me. Let our chaplain, said Beaumanois, stand forth and tell this obstinate infidel. Forgive the interruption, said Rebecca meekly. I am a maiden unskilled to dispute for my religion, but I can die for it if it be God's will. Let me pray your answer to my demand of a champion. Give me her glove, said Beaumanois. This is indeed, he continued, as he looked at the flimsy texture and slender fingers, A slight and frail gauge for a purpose so deadly.
Seest thou, Rebekah, as this thin and light glove of thine is to one of our heavy steel gauntlets, so is thy cause to that of the temple, for it is our order which thou hast defied. Cast my innocence into the scale, answered Rebekah, and the glove of silk shall outweigh the glove of iron. Then thou dost persist in thy refusal to confess thy guilt, And in that bold challenge which thou hast made? I do persist, noble sir, answered Rebekah. So be it, then, in the name of heaven, said the Grand Master, and may God show the right. Amen! replied the preceptors around him, and the word was deeply echoed by the whole assembly. Brethren, said Beaumanois, you are aware that we might well have refused to this woman the benefit of the trial by combat, But though a Jewess and an unbeliever, she is also a stranger and defenseless, and God forbid that she should ask the benefit of our mild laws, and that it should be refused to her.
Moreover, we are knights and soldiers as well as men of religion, and shame it were to us, upon any pretence, to refuse proffered combat. Thus, therefore, stands the case. Rebekah, the daughter of Isaac of York, is, by many frequent and suspicious circumstances, Defamed of sorcery practiced on the person of a noble knight of our holy order, and hath challenged the combat in proof of her innocence. To whom, reverend brethren, is it your opinion that we should deliver the gauge of battle, naming him at the same time to be our champion on the field? To Brian de Bois-Gilbert, whom it chiefly concerns, said the preceptor of Goodalric, and who, moreover, best knows how the truth stands in this matter.
But if, said the Grand Master, our brother Brian be under the influence of a charm or a spell, we speak but for the sake of precaution, for to the arm of none of our holy order would we more willingly confide this or a more weighty cause. Reverend Father, answered the preceptor of good Alric, no spell can affect the champion who comes forward to fight for the judgment of God. Thou sayest right, brother, said the Grand Master, Albert Malvoisin, give this gage of battle to Brian de Bois-Gilbert. It is our charge to thee, brother," he continued, addressing himself to Bois-Gilbert, that thou do thy battle manfully, nothing doubting that the good cause shall triumph. And do thou, Rebekah, attend, that we assign thee the third day from the present to find a champion.
"'That is but brief space,' answered Rebekah, for a stranger who is also of another faith To find one who will do battle, wagering life and honor for her cause, against a knight who is called an approved soldier. "'We may not extend it,' answered the Grand Master. "'The field must be foughten in our own presence, and divers weighty causes call us on the fourth day from hence.' "'God's will be done,' said Rebekah. "'I put my trust in him to whom an instant is as effectual to save as a whole age.' "'Thou hast spoken well, damsel,' said the grandmaster, "'but well know we who can array himself like an angel of flight. It remains but to name a fitting place of combat, and, if it so hap, also of execution.
Where is the preceptor of this house?' Albert Melvoisin, still holding Rebecca's glove in his hand, was speaking to Bois-Gilbert very earnestly, but in a low voice. "'How,' said the grandmaster, "'will he not receive the gage?' "'He will, he doth, most reverend father,' said Melvoisin, slipping the glove under his own mantle. "'And for the place of combat, I hold the fittest to be the lists of St. George belonging to this preceptory, and used by us for military exercise.' "'It is well,' said the Grand Master. "'Rebecca, in those lists shalt thou produce thy champion, and if thou failest to do so, or if thy champion shall be discomfited by the judgment of God, Thou shalt then die the death of a sorceress according to doom.
Let this our judgment be recorded, and the record read aloud, that no one may pretend ignorance. One of the chaplains who acted as clerks to the chapter immediately engrossed the order in a huge volume, which contained the proceedings of the Templar knights when solemnly assembled on such occasions, and when he had finished writing, the other read aloud the sentence of the Grand Master, which, when translated from the Norman French, in which it was couched, was expressed as follows. Rebekah, a Jewess, daughter of Isaac of York, being attainted of sorcery, seduction, and other damnable practices, practiced on a night of the most holy order of the temple of Zion, doth deny the same, and saith that the testimony delivered against her this day is false, wicked, and disloyal.
And that by lawful a soin of her body as being unable to combat on her own behalf, she doth offer, by a champion instead thereof, to avouch her case, he performing his loyal devoir in all knightly sort, with such arms as to gauge of battle do fully appertain, and that at her peril and cost. And therewith she proffered her gauge. And the gage having been delivered to the noble lord and knight, Brian de Bois-Gilbert, of the Holy Order of the Temple of Zion, he was appointed to do this battle, in behalf of his order and himself, as injured and impaired by the practices of the appellant. Wherefore, the most reverend father and puissant lord, Lucas Marquis de Beaumanois, did allow of the said challenge, and of the said assoin of the appellant's body, and assigned the third day for the said combat, The place being the enclosure called the Lists of St.
George, near to the preceptory of Templestowe, and the Grand Master appoints the appellant to appear there by her champion, on pain of doom, as a person convicted of sorcery or seduction, and also the defendant so to appear, under the penalty of being held and adjudged recreant in case of default, and the noble Lord and Most Reverend Father aforesaid, appointed the battle to be done in his own presence, and according to all that is commendable and profitable in such a case, and may God aid the just cause. Amen, said the Grand Master, and the word was echoed by all around. Rebekah spoke not, but she looked up to heaven, and, folding her hands, remained for a minute without change of attitude. She then modestly reminded the Grand Master that she ought to be permitted some opportunity of free communication with her friends, for the purpose of making her condition known to them, and procuring, if possible, some champion to fight on her behalf.
It is just and lawful, said the Grand Master. Choose what messenger thou shalt trust, and he shall have free communication with thee in thy prison chamber.
Is there, said Rebekah, any one here who, either for love of a good cause or of ample hire, will do the errand of a distressed being? All were silent, for none thought it safe, in the presence of the Grand Master, to avow any interest in the calumniated prisoner, lest he should be suspected of leaning towards Judaism. Not even the prospect of reward, far less any feelings of compassion alone, could surmount this apprehension. Rebekah stood for a few moments in indescribable anxiety, and then exclaimed, Is it really thus? And, in English land, Am I to be deprived of the poor chance of safety which remains to me, for want of an act of charity which would not be refused to the worst criminal? Higg, the son of Snell, at length replied, I am but a maimed man, but that I can at all stir or move was owing to her charitable assistance.
I will do thine errand, he added, addressing Rebecca, as well as a crippled object can, and happy were my limbs fleet enough to repair the mischief done by my tongue. Alas, when I boasted of thy charity, I little thought I was leading thee into danger. God, said Rebekah, is the disposer of all. He can turn back the captivity of Judah, even by the weakest instrument. To execute his message, the snail is as sure a messenger as the falcon. Seek out Isaac of York. Here is that will pay for horse and man. Let him have this scroll. I know not if it be of heaven, the spirit which inspires me. But most truly do I judge that I am not to die this death, and that a champion will be raised up for me. Farewell.
Life and death are in thy haste. The peasant took the scroll, which contained only a few lines in Hebrew. Many of the crowd would have dissuaded him from touching a document so suspicious, but Higg was resolute in the service of his benefactress. She had saved his body, he said, and he was confident she did not mean to peril his soul. I will get me, he said, my neighbor Boothan's good capital, and I will be at York within as brief space as man and beast may. But as it fortuned, he had no occasion to go so far, for within a quarter of a mile from the gate of the preceptory he met with two riders, whom, by their dress and their huge yellow caps, he knew to be Jews, and, on approaching more nearly, discovered that one of them was his ancient employer, Isaac of York, The other was the rabbi, Ben Samuel, and both had approached as near to the preceptory as they dared, on hearing that the grand master had summoned a chapter for the trial of a sorceress.
Brother Ben Samuel, said Isaac, My soul is disquieted, and I wot not why. This charge of necromancy is right often used for cloaking evil practices on our people. Be of good comfort, brother, said the physician. Thou canst deal with the Nazarenes as one possessing the mammon of unrighteousness, and canst therefore purchase immunity at their hands. It rules the savage minds of those ungodly men, even as the signet of the mighty Solomon was said to command the evil genii. But what poor wretch comes hither upon his crutches, desiring, as I think, some speech of me? Friend, continued the physician, addressing Higg, the son of Snell, I refuse thee not the aid of mine art, but I relieve not with one asper those who beg for alms upon the highway.
Out upon thee. Hast thou the palsy in thy legs? Then let thy hands work for thy livelihood, for, albeit thou beest unfit for a speedy post, or for a careful shepherd, or for the warfare, or for the service of a hasty master, yet there be occupations. How now, brother, said he, interrupting his harangue to look towards Isaac, who had but glanced at the scroll which Higg offered, when, uttering a deep groan, he fell from his mule like a dying man, and lay for a minute insensible. The rabbi now dismounted in great alarm, and hastily applied the remedies which his art suggested for the recovery of his companion. He had even taken from his pocket a cupping apparatus, and was about to proceed to phlebotomy, when the object of his anxious solicitude suddenly revived, But it was to dash his cap from his head, and to throw dust on his gray hairs.
The physician was at first inclined to ascribe this sudden and violent emotion to the effects of insanity, and, adhering to his original purpose, began once again to handle his implements. But Isaac soon convinced him of his error. Child of my sorrow, he said, well shouldst thou be called Benoni instead of Rebekah. Why should thy death bring down my gray hairs to the grave, till, in the bitterness of my heart, I curse God and die? Brother, said the rabbi, in great surprise, art thou a father in Israel, and dost thou utter words like unto these? I trust that the child of thy house yet liveth? She liveth, answered Isaac, but it is as Daniel, who was called Balthasar, even when within the den of the lions.
She is captive unto those men of Bilial, and they will wreak their cruelty upon her, sparing neither for her youth nor her comely favor. Oh, she was as a crown of green palms to my gray locks! She must wither in a night, like the gourd of Jonah. Child of my love, child of my old age! O Rebekah, daughter of Rachel, the darkness of the shadow of death hath encompassed thee. Yet read the scroll, said the rabbi. Peradventure it may be that we may yet find out a way of deliverance. Do thou read, brother, answered Isaac, for mine eyes are as a fountain of water. The physician read, but in their native language, the following words. To Isaac, the son of Adonacham, whom the Gentiles call Isaac of York, peace and the blessing of the promise be multiplied unto thee.
My father, I am as one doomed to die for that which my soul knoweth not. even for the crime of witchcraft. My father, if a strong man can be found to do battle for my cause with sword and spear, according to the custom of the Nazarenes, and that within the lists of Templestowe, on the third day from this time, peradventure our father's God will give him strength to defend the innocent, and her who hath none to help her. But if this may not be, let the virgins of our people mourn for me as for one cast off, And for the heart that is stricken by the hunter, and for the flower which is cut down by the scythe of the mower. Wherefore look now what thou doest, and whether there be any rescue? One Nazarene warrior might indeed bear arms in my behalf, even Wilfred, son of Cedric, whom the Gentiles call Ivanhoe, but he may not yet endure the weight of his armor.
Nevertheless send the tidings unto him, my father, For he hath favor among the strong men of his people, and as he was our companion in the house of bondage, he may find some one to do battle for my sake. And say unto him, even unto him, even unto Wilfred, the son of Cedric, that if Rebekah live, or if Rebekah die, she liveth or dieth wholly free of the guilt she is charged withal. And if it be the will of God that thou shalt be deprived of thy daughter, do not thou tarry, old man, in this land of bloodshed and cruelty. But betake thyself to Cordova, where thy brother liveth in safety, under the shadow of the throne, even of the throne of Boabdil the Sacrosan. For less cruel are the cruelties of the Moors unto the race of Jacob than the cruelties of the Nazarenes of England.
Isaac listened with tolerable composure while Ben Samuel read the letter, and then again resumed the gestures and exclamations of Oriental sorrow, Tearing his garments, besprinkling his head with dust, and ejaculating, My daughter, my daughter, flesh of my flesh, and bone of my bone. Yet, said the rabbi, take courage, for this grief availeth nothing. Gird up thy loins, and seek out this Wilfred, the son of Cedric. It may be he will help thee with counsel or with strength, for the youth hath favor in the eyes of Richard, called of the Nazarenes, Cors de Leon. And the tidings that he hath returned are constant in the land. It may be that he may obtain his letter and his signet, commanding these men of blood, who take their name from the temple to the dishonor thereof, that they proceed not in their purposed wickedness.
I will seek him out, said Isaac, for he is a good youth, and hath compassion for the exile of Jacob. But he cannot bear his armor, and what other Christian shall do battle for the oppressed of Zion? Nay, but, said the rabbi, thou speakest as one that knoweth not the Gentiles. With gold shalt thou buy their valor, even as with gold thou buyest thine own safety. Be of good courage, and do thou set forward to find out this Wilfred of Ivanhoe. I will also up and be doing, for great sin it were to leave thee in thy calamity. I will hie me to the city of York, where many warriors and strong men are assembled, And doubt not I will find among them some one who will do battle for thy daughter, for gold is their god, and for riches will they pawn their lives as well as their lands.
Thou wilt fulfill, my brother, such promise as I may make unto them in thy name? Assuredly, brother, said Isaac, and heaven be praised that raised me up a comforter in my misery. Howbeit grant them not their full demand at once, For thou shalt find it the quality of this accursed people that they will ask pounds, and peradventure accept of ounces. Nevertheless, be it as thou willest, for I am distracted in this thing, and what would my gold avail me if the child of my love should perish? Farewell, said the physician, and may it be to thee as thy heart desireth. They embraced accordingly, and departed on their several roads. The crippled peasant remained for some time looking after them. These dog-jews, said he, to take no more notice of a free guild brother than if I were a bond-slave or a Turk or a circumcised Hebrew like themselves.
They might have flung me a mancus or two, however. I was not obliged to bring their unhallowed scrawls and run the risk of being bewitched, as more folks than one told me. And what care I for the bit of gold that the wench gave me, If I am to come to harm from the priest next Easter at confession, and be obliged to give him twice as much to make it up with him, and be called the Jew's Flying Post all my life, as it may have, into the bargain. I think I was bewitched in earnest when I was beside that girl. But it was always so with Jew or Gentile, whosoever came near her. None could stay when she had an errand to go. And still, whenever I think of her, I would give shop and tools to save her life.
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XXXIX. O maid, unrelenting and cold as thou art, my bosom is proud as thine own. Seward. It was in the twilight of the day when her trial, if it could be called such, had taken place, that a low knock was heard at the door of Rebekah's prison chamber. It disturbed not the inmate, who was then engaged in the evening prayer recommended by her religion, and which concluded with a hymn we have ventured thus to translate into English. When Israel, of the Lord Beloved, out of the land of bondage came, her father's God before her moved, An awful guide in smoke and flame. By day, along the astonished lands, the cloudy pillar glided slow. By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands returned the fiery columns glow.
There arose the choral hymn of praise, and trump and timbrel answered keen, and Zion's daughters poured their lays with priests and warriors' voice between. No portents now our foes amaze, Forsaken Israel wanders lone. Our fathers would not know thy ways, and thou hast left them on their own. But present still, though now unseen, when brightly shines the prosperous day, be thoughts of thee a cloudy screen to temper the deceitful ray. And O, when stoops on Judah's path, in shade and storm the frequent night, be thou longsuffering, slow to wrath, A burning and a shining light. Our harps we left by Babel's streams, The tyrants jest, the Gentiles scorn, No censer round our altar beams, And mute our timbrel trump and horn.
But thou hast said, The blood of goat, the flesh of rams, I will not prize. A contrite heart and humble thought Are mine accepted sacrifice. When the sounds of Rebecca's devotional hymn had died away in silence, the low knock at the door was again renewed. Enter, she said, if thou art a friend, and if a foe, I have not the means of refusing thy entrance. I am, said Brian de Bois-Gilbert, entering the apartment, friend or foe, Rebecca, as the event of this interview shall make me. Alarmed at the sight of this man, Whose licentious passion she considered as the root of her misfortunes, Rebecca drew backward with a cautious and alarmed, yet not a timorous demeanor, into the farthest corner of the apartment, as if determined to retreat as far as she could, but to stand her ground when retreat became no longer possible.
She drew herself into an attitude not of defiance, but of resolution, as one that would avoid provoking assault, yet was resolute to repel it, being offered to the utmost of her power. "'You have no reason to fear me, Rebekah,' said the Templar, or, if I must so qualify my speech, you have at least now no reason to fear me.' "'I fear you not, Sir Knight,' replied Rebekah, although her short, drawn breath seemed to belie the heroism of her accents. "'My trust is strong, and I fear thee not.' "'You have no cause,' answered Bois-Gilbert gravely. "'My former frantic attempts you have not now to dread. Within your call are guards, over whom I have no authority. They are designed to conduct you to death, Rebekah, yet would not suffer you to be insulted by any one, even by me, were my frenzy, for frenzy it is, to urge me so far.' "'May heaven be praised,' said the Jewess.
Death is the least of my apprehensions in this den of evil. Aye, replied the Templar, the idea of death is easily received by the courageous mind when the road to it is sudden and open. A thrust with a lance, a stroke with a sword, were to me little. To you, a spring from a dizzy battlement, a stroke with a sharp poniard, has no terrors compared with what either thinks disgrace. Mark me, I say this, Perhaps mine own sentiments of honor are not less fantastic, Rebekah, than thine are, but we know alike how to die for them. Unhappy man, said the Jewess, and art thou condemned to expose thy life for principles, of which thy sober judgment does not acknowledge the solidity? Surely this is a parting with your treasure for that which is not bread, but deem not so of me.
Thy resolution may fluctuate on the wild and changeful billows of human opinion, but mine is anchored on the rock of ages. Silence, maiden, answered the Templar. Such discourse now avails but little. Thou art condemned to die not a sudden and easy death, such as misery chooses, and despair welcomes, but a slow, wretched, protracted course of torture, suited to what the diabolical bigotry of these men calls thy crime. And to whom, if such my fate, to whom do I owe this, said Rebekah? Surely only to him who, for a most selfish and brutal cause, dragged me hither, and who now, for some unknown purpose of his own, strives to exaggerate the wretched fate to which he exposed me.
Think not, said the Templer, that I have so exposed thee. I would have buckled thee against such danger with my own bosom, As freely as ever I exposed it to the shafts which had otherwise reached thy life. Had thy purpose been the honorable protection of the innocent, said Rebekah, I had thanked thee for thy care. As it is, thou hast claimed merit for it so often that I tell thee life is worth nothing to me, preserved at the price which thou wouldst exact for it. Truce with thine upbraidings, Rebekah, said the Templar. I have my own cause of grief, and brook not that thy reproaches should add to it. What is thy purpose, then, Sir Knight? said the Jewess. Speak it briefly. If thou hast aught to do, save to witness the misery thou hast caused, let me know it, and then, if so it please you, leave me to myself.
The step between time and eternity is short but terrible, and I have few moments to prepare for it. I perceive, Rebeca, said Bois-Gilbert, that thou dost continue to burden me with the charge of distresses which most fain would I have prevented. Sir Knight, said Rebeca, I would avoid reproaches, but what is more certain than that I owe my death to thine unbridled passion? You err, you err, said the Templer hastily, if you impute what I could neither foresee nor prevent to my purpose or agency. Could I guess the unexpected arrival of yon dotard, whom some flashes of frantic valor and the praises yielded by fools to the stupid self-torments of an ascetic have raised for the present above his own merits, above common sense, above me, and above the hundreds of our order, who think and feel as men free from such silly and fantastic prejudices as are the grounds of his opinions and actions?
Yet, said Rebecca, You say to judge upon me, innocent, most innocent, as you knew me to be, you concurred in my condemnation, and, if I aright understood, are yourself to appear in arms to assert my guilt and assure my punishment. Thy patience, maiden, replied the Templar. No race knows so well as thine own tribes how to submit to the time, and so to trim their bark as to make advantage even of an adverse wind. Lamented be the hour, said Rebekah, that has taught such art to the house of Israel, but adversity bends the heart as fire bends the stubborn steel, and those who are no longer their own governors, and the denizens of their own free independent state, must crouch before strangers. It is our curse, Sir Knight, deserved, doubtless, by our own misdeeds and those of our fathers.
But you, you who boast your freedom as your birthright, How much deeper is your disgrace when you stoop to soothe the prejudices of others, and that against your own conviction?
Your words are bitter, Rebecca, said Bois-Gilbert, pacing the apartment with impatience. But I come not hither to bandy reproaches with you. Know that Bois-Gilbert yields not to created man, although circumstances may for a time induce him to alter his plan. His will is the mountain stream, which may indeed be turned for a little space aside by the rock, but fails not to find its course to the ocean. That scroll which warned thee to demand a champion, from whom couldst thou think it came, if not from Bois-Gilbert? In whom else couldst thou have excited such interest? A brief respite from instant death, said Rebekah, which will little avail me. Was this all thou couldst do for one, on whose head thou hast heaped sorrow?
And whom thou hast brought near even to the verge of the tomb? No, maiden, said Bois-Gilbert. This was not all that I purposed. Had it not been for the accursed interference of yon fanatical Dotard and the fool of Goodalric, who, being a Templar, affects to think and judge according to the ordinary rules of humanity, the office of the champion defender had devolved, not on a preceptor, but on a companion of the Order. Then I myself, such was my purpose, had, on the sounding of the trumpet, appeared in the lists as thy champion, disguised indeed in the fashion of a roving knight, who seeks adventures to prove his shield and spear. And then, let Beaumanois have chosen not one, but two or three of the brethren here assembled, I had not doubted to cast them out of the saddle with my single lance.
Thus, Rebecca, should thine innocence have been avouched, And to thine own gratitude would I have trusted for the reward of my victory. This, sir knight, said Rebecca, is but idle boasting, a brag of what you would have done had you not found it convenient to do otherwise. You received my glove, and my champion, if a creature so desolate can find one, must encounter your lance in the lists. Yet you would assume the air of my friend and protector. Thy friend and protector, said the Templar gravely, I will yet be, but mark at what risk, or rather at what certainty, of dishonor, and then blame me not if I make my stipulations before I offer up all that I have hitherto held dear to save the life of a Jewish maiden.
Speak, said Rebekah, I understand thee not. Well, then, said Bois-Gilbert, I will speak as freely as ever did doating penitent to his ghostly father when placed in the tricky confessional. Rebekah, if I appear not in these lists, I lose fame and rank, lose that which is the breadth of my nostrils, the esteem I mean, in which I am held by my brethren, and the hopes I have of succeeding to that mighty authority, which is now wielded by the bigoted dotard, Lucas de Beaumanois, but of which I should make a different use. Such is my certain doom, except I appear in arms against thy cause. Accursed be he of Goodalric, who baited this trap for me, and doubly accursed Albert de Malvoysin, who withheld me from the resolution I had formed, of hurling back the glove at the face of the superstitious and superannuated fool, who listened to a charge so absurd, and against a creature so high in mind, and so lovely in form as thou art.
And what now avails rant or flattery? answered Rebecca. Thou hast made thy choice between causing to be shed the blood of an innocent woman, or of endangering thine own earthly state and earthly hopes. What avails it to reckon together thy choice is made? No, Rebecca, said the knight in a softer tone, and drawing nearer towards her. My choice is not made. Nay, mark, it is thine to make the election. If I appear in the lists, I must maintain my name in arms. And if I do so, championed or unchampioned, thou diest by the stake and faggot, for there lives not the knight who hath coped with me in arms on equal issue, or on terms of vantage, save Richard Cordeleon and his minion of Ivanhoe. Ivanhoe, as thou well knowest, is unable to bear his corslet, and Richard is in a foreign prison.
If I appear, then thou diest, even although thy charms should instigate some hot-headed youth, to enter the lists in thy defense. And what of Baal's repeating this so often, said Rebekah? Much, replied the Templar, for thou must learn to look at thy fate on every side. Well, then, turn the tapestry, said the Jewess, and let me see the other side. If I appear, said Bois-Gilbert, in the fatal lists, thou diest by a slow and cruel death, In pain such as they say is destined to the guilty hereafter. But if I appear not, then am I a degraded and dishonored knight, accused of witchcraft and of communion with infidels. The illustrious name which has grown yet more so under my wearing becomes a hissing and a reproach.
I lose fame, I lose honor, I lose the prospect of such greatness as scarce emperors attain to. I sacrifice mighty ambition, I destroy schemes built as high as the mountains, with which heathens say their heaven was once nearly scaled. And yet, Rebekah, he said, throwing himself at her feet, this greatness will I sacrifice, this fame will I renounce, this power will I forego, even now, when it is half within my grasp, if thou wilt say, while Gilbert, I receive thee for my lover. Think not of such foolishness, Sir Knight, answered Rebekah. But hasten to the regent, the Queen Mother, and to Prince John. They cannot, in honor to the English crown, allow of the proceedings of your grand master. So shall you give me protection without sacrifice on your part, or the pretext of requiring any requital from me.
With these I deal not, he continued, holding the train of her robe. It is thee only I address, and what can counterbalance thy choice? Bething thee were I a fiend, Yet death is a worse, and it is death who is my rival. I weigh not these evils, said Rebekah, afraid to provoke the wild knight, yet equally determined neither to endure his passion, nor even feign to endure it. Be a man, be a Christian. If, indeed, thy faith recommends that mercy which rather your tongues than your actions pretend, save me from this dreadful death, without seeking a requital which would change thy magnanimity into base barter. "'No, damsel,' said the proud Templar, springing up, "'thou shalt not thus impose on me.
If I renounce present fame and future ambition, I renounce it for thy sake, and we will escape in company. Listen to me, Rebecca,' he said, again softening his tone. "'England, Europe, is not the world. There are spheres in which we may act, Ample enough even for my ambition. We will go to Palestine, where Conrad, Marquis of Montserrat, is my friend, a friend free as myself from the doting scruples which fetter our free-born reason. Rather with Saladin will we league ourselves than endure the scorn of the bigots whom we condemn. I will form new paths to greatness, he continued, again traversing the room with hasty strides. Europe shall hear the loud step of him she has driven from her sons. Not the millions whom her crusaders send to slaughter can do so much to defend Palestine.
Not the sabres of the thousands and ten thousands of Saracens can hew their way so deep into that land for which nations are striving, as the strength and policy of me and those brethren, who, in despite of yonder old bigot, will adhere to me in good and evil. Thou shalt be a queen, Rebekah, On Mount Carmel shall we pitch the throne which my valour will gain for you, and I will exchange my long-desired battune for a sceptre. A dream, said Rebekah, an empty vision of the night, which, were it a waking reality, affects me not. Enough that the power which thou mightest acquire I will never share, nor hold I so light of country or religious faith as to esteem him who is willing to barter these ties and cast away the bonds of the order of which he is a sworn member, in order to gratify an unruly passion for the daughter of another people.
Put not a price on my deliverance, Sir Knight. Sell not a deed of generosity. Protect the oppressed for the sake of charity, and not for a selfish advantage. Go to the throne of England. Richard will listen to my appeal from these cruel men. Never, Rebecca, said the Templar fiercely. If I renounce my order, for thee alone will I renounce it. Ambition shall remain mine, if thou refuse my love. I will not be fooled on all hands. Stoop my crest to Richard? Ask a boon of that heart of pride? Never, Rebekah, will I place the order of the temple at his feet in my person. I may forsake the order. I never will degrade or betray it. Now, God, be gracious to me, said Rebekah. For the succor of man is well-nigh hopeless.
It is indeed, said the Templer, for, proud as thou art, thou hast in me found thy match. If I enter the lists with my spear in rest, think not any human consideration shall prevent my putting forth my strength, and think then upon thine own fate, to die the dreadful death of the worst of criminals, to be consumed upon a blazing pile, Dispersed to the elements of which our strange forms are so mystically composed, not a relic left of that graceful frame from which we could say this lived and moved. Rebekah, it is not in woman to sustain this prospect. Thou wilt yield to my suit. Ho, Gilbert, answered the Jewess. Thou knowest not the heart of woman, or hast only conversed with those who are lost to her best feelings.
I tell thee, proud Templer, That not in thy fiercest battles hast thou displayed more of thy baunted courage than has been shown by woman when called upon to suffer by affection or duty. I am myself a woman, tenderly nurtured, naturally fearful of danger, and impatient of pain. Yet, when we enter those fatal lists, thou to fight and I to suffer, I feel the strong assurance within me that my courage shall mount higher than thine. Farewell. I waste no more words on thee. The time that remains on earth to the daughter of Jacob must be otherwise spent. She must seek the Comforter, who may hide his face from his people, but who ever opens his ear to the cry of those who seek him in sincerity and in truth.
We part, then, thus, said the Templar, after a short pause. Would to heaven that we had never met, or that thou hadst been noble in birth and Christian in faith! Nay, by heaven, when I gaze on thee, and think when and how we are next to meet, I could even wish myself one of thine own degraded nation, my hand conversant with ingots and shekels, instead of spear and shield, my head bent down before each petty noble, and my look only terrible to the shivering and bankrupt debtor. This could I wish, Rebekah, to be near to thee in life, and to escape the fearful share I must have in thy death. Thou hast spoken the Jew, said Rebekah, as the persecution of such as thou art has made him. Heaven and ire has driven him from his country, but industry has opened to him the only road to power and to influence which oppression has left unbarred.
Read the ancient history of the people of God, and tell me if those by whom Jehovah wrought such marvels among the nations were then a people of misers and of urserers. And know, proud knight, we number names amongst us to which your boasted northern nobility is as the gourd compared with the cedar, names that ascend far back to those high times when the divine presence shook the mercy-seat between the cherubim, and which derived their splendor from no earthly prince, but from the awful voice which bade their fathers be nearest of the congregation to the vision. Such are the princes of the house of Jacob. Rebekah's color rose as she boasted the ancient glories of her race, but faded, as she added, with a sigh.
Such were the princes of Judah, now such no more. They are trampled down like the shorn grass, and mixed with the mire of the ways. Yet there are those among them who shame not such high descent, and of such shall be the daughter of Isaac, the son of Adonachem. Farewell. I envy not thy blood-won honors. I envy not thy barbarous descent from northern heathens. I envy thee not thy faith, which is ever in thy mouth, but never in thy heart, nor in thy practice.
There is a spell on me, by heaven, said Bois-Gilbert. I almost think yon besotted skeleton spoke truth, and that the reluctance with which I part from thee hath something in it more than is natural. Fair creature, he said, approaching near her, but with great respect. So young, so beautiful, so fearless of death, and yet doomed to die, and with infamy and agony. Who would not weep for thee? The tear that has been a stranger to these eyelids for twenty years moistens them as I gaze on thee. But it must be, nothing may now save thy life. Thou and I are but the blind instruments of some irresistible fatality that hurries us along, like goodly vessels driving before the storm, which are dashed against each other, and so perish.
Forgive me, then, and let us part at least as friends part. I have assailed thy resolution in vain, and mine own is fixed as the adamantine decrees of fate. Thus, said Rebekah, do men throw on fate the issue of their own wild passions. But I do forgive thee, Bois-Gilbert, though the author of my early death. There are noble things which cross over thy powerful mind, But it is the garden of the sluggard, and the weeds have rushed up, and conspired to choke the fair and wholesome blossom. Yes, said the Templar. I am, Rebekah, as thou hast spoken me, untaught, untamed, and proud, that, amidst a shoal of empty fools and crafty bigots, I have retained the pre-eminent fortitude that places me above them.
I have been a child of battle, from my youth upward, high in my views, Steady and inflexible in pursuing them. Such must I remain, proud, inflexible, and unchanging, and of this the world shall have proof. But thou forgivest me, Rebecca?" As freely as ever victim forgave her executioner. Farewell, then, said the Templar, and he left the apartment. The preceptor, Albert, waited impatiently in an adjacent chamber the return of Bois-Gilbert. Thou hast tarried long, he said. I have been as if stretched on red-hot iron with very impatience. What if the grand master, or his spy Conrad, had come hither? I had paid dear for thy complaisance. But what ails thee, brother? Thy step totters, thy brow is as black as night.
Art thou well, Quagilbert? Ay, said the Templar, as well as the wretch who is doomed to die within an hour. Nay, by the rude, not half so well, for there be those in such state who can lay down life like a cast-off garment. By heaven, Malvoisin, yonder girl hath well-nigh unmanned me. I am half resolved to go to the grand master, abjure the order to his very teeth, and refuse to act the brutality which his tyranny has imposed on me. Thou art mad, answered Malvoisin. Thou mayst thus indeed utterly ruin thyself, But canst not even find a chance thereby to save the life of this Jewess, which seems so precious in thine eyes. Beau-manois will name another of the order to defend his judgment in thy place, and the accused will as assuredly perish as if thou hadst taken the duty imposed on thee.
"'Tis false. I will myself take arms in her behalf," answered the Templar haughtily. "'And should I do so, I think, Melvoisin, that thou knowest not one of the order, who will keep his saddle before the point of my lance. Ay, but thou forgettest, said the wily advisor. Thou wilt have neither leisure nor opportunity to execute this mad project. Go to Lucas Beau-manois, and say thou hast renounced thy vow of obedience, and see how long the despotic old man will leave thee in personal freedom. The words shall scarce have left thy lips, ere thou wilt either be an hundred feet underground, in the dungeon of the preceptory, To abide trial as a recreant knight. Or, if his opinion holds concerning thy possession, thou wilt be enjoying straw, darkness, and chains, in some distant convent cell, stunned with exorcisms, and drenched with holy water, to expel the foul fiend which hath obtained dominion over thee.
Thou must to the lists, Brian, or thou art a lost and dishonored man.
I will break forth and fly," said Bois-Gilbert. Fly to some distant land, to which folly and fanaticism have not yet found their way. No drop of the blood of this most excellent creature shall be spilled by my sanction. Thou canst not fly, said the preceptor. Thy ravings have excited suspicion, and thou wilt not be permitted to leave the preceptory. Go and make the essay. Present thyself before the gate, and command the bridge to be lowered, and mark what answer thou shalt receive. Thou art surprised and offended, but is it not the better for thee? Werd thou to fly, what would ensue but the reversal of thy arms, the dishonor of thine ancestry, the degradation of thy rank? Think on it. Where shall thine old companions in arms hide their heads, when Brian de Bois-Gilbert, the best lance of the Templars, is proclaimed recreant amid hisses of the assembled people?
What grief will be at the court of France? With what joy will the haughty Richard hear the news that the knight that had set him hard in Palestine, and well-nigh darkened his renown, had lost fame and honor for a Jewish girl, whom he could not even save by so costly a sacrifice. Malvoysin, said the knight, I thank thee. Thou hast touched the string at which my heart most readily thrills. Come of it what may, recreant shall never be added to the name of Bois-Gilbert. Would to God, Richard, or any of his vaunting minions of England, would appear in these lists. But they will be empty. No one will risk to break a lance for the innocent, the forlorn. The better for thee, if it proves so, said the preceptor.
If no champion appears, it is not by thy means that this unlucky damsel shall die, but by the doom of the grand master, with whom rests all the blame, and who will count that blame for praise and commendation. True," said Bois-Gilbert. If no champion appears, I am but a part of the pageant, sitting indeed on horseback in the lists, but having no part in what is to follow. None whatever, said Malvoysin, no more than the armed image of St. George when it makes a part of the procession. Well, I will resume my resolution, replied the haughty Templar. She has despised me, repulsed me, reviled me, And wherefore should I offer up to her whatever of estimation I have in the opinion of others? Malvoisin, I will appear in the lists.
He left the apartment hastily as he uttered these words, and the preceptor followed, to watch and confirm him in his resolution. For in Bois-Gilbert's fame he had himself a strong interest, expecting much advantage from his being one day at the head of the order, not to mention the preferment of which Montfichet had given him hopes, on condition he would forward the condemnation of the unfortunate Rebecca. Yet although, in combating his friend's better feelings, he possessed all the advantage which a wily composed selfish disposition has over a man agitated by strong and contending passions, it required all Malvoysin's art to keep Bois-Gilbert steady to the purpose he had prevailed on him to adopt.
He was obliged to watch him closely to prevent his resuming his purpose of flight to intercept his communication with the grand master, lest he should come to an open rupture with his superior, and to renew from time to time the various arguments by which he endeavored to show that, in appearing as champion on this occasion, Bois-Gilbert, without either accelerating or ensuring the fate of Rebecca, would follow the only course by which he could save himself from degradation and disgrace.
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Shadows avant. Richard's himself again. Richard, the third. When the Black Knight, for it becomes necessary to resume the train of his adventures, Left the trysting-tree of the generous outlaw, he held his way straight to a neighboring religious house of small extent and revenue called the Priory of St. Botolf, to which the wounded Ivanhoe had been removed when the castle was taken, under the guidance of the faithful Girth and the magnanimous Wamba. It is unnecessary at present to mention what took place in the interim betwixt Wilfred and his deliverer. Suffice it to say that after long and grave communication, messengers were dispatched by the prior in several directions, and that on the succeeding morning the Black Knight was about to set forth on his journey, accompanied by the jester Wamba, who attended as his guide.
"'We will meet,' he said to Ivanhoe, "'at Koningsburg, the castle of the deceased Athelstane, since there thy father Cedric holds the funeral feast for his noble relation.' I would see your Saxon kindred together, Sir Wilfrid, and become better acquainted with them than heretofore. Thou also wilt meet me, and it shall be my task to reconcile thee to thy father. So saying, he took an affectionate farewell of Ivanhoe, who expressed an anxious desire to attend upon his deliverer, but the Black Knight would not listen to the proposal. Rest this day, thou wilt have scarce strength enough to travel on the next. I will have no guide with me but honest Wamba, who can play priest or fool, as I shall be most in the humor.
And I, said Wamba, will attend you with all my heart. I would fain see the feasting at the funeral of Athelstain, for, if it be not full and frequent, he will rise from the dead to rebuke cook, sewer, and cup-bearer, and that were a sight worth seeing. Always, sir knight, I will trust your valor with making my excuse to my master Cedric, In case mine own wit should fail. And how should my poor valor succeed, Sir Jester, when thy light wit halts? Resolve me that. Wit, Sir Knight, replied the jester, may do much. He is a quick, apprehensive knave, who sees his neighbor's blindside, and knows how to keep the leagage when his passions are blowing high. But valor is a sturdy fellow that makes all split.
He rose against both wind and tide, and makes way notwithstanding, and therefore, good Sir Knight, while I take advantage of the fair weather in our noble master's temper, I will expect you to bestir yourself when it grows rough. Sir Knight of the Federlock, since it is your pleasure to be so distinguished, said Ivanhoe, I fear me you have chosen a talkative and a troublesome fool to be your guide. But he knows every path and alley in the woods as well as e'er a hunter who frequents them, and the poor knave, as thou hast partly seen, is as faithful as steel. "'Nay,' said the knight, "'an he have the gift of showing my road, I shall not grumble with him that he desires to make it pleasant. Fare thee well, kind Wilfred.
I charge thee not to attempt to travel until to-morrow at earliest.' So saying, he extended his hand to Ivanhoe, who pressed it to his lips, took leave of the prior, mounted his horse, and departed, with Wamba for his companion. Ivanhoe followed them with his eyes, until they were lost in the shades of the surrounding forest, and then returned into the convent. But shortly after Matinsong, he requested to see the prior. The old man came in haste, and inquired anxiously after the state of his health. It is better, he said, than my fondest hope could have anticipated. Either my wound has been slighter than the effusion of blood led me to suppose, or this balsam hath brought a wonderful cure upon it.
I feel already as if I could bear my corslet, and so much the better, for thoughts pass in my mind which render me unwilling to remain here longer in inactivity. Now the saints forbid, said the prior, that the son of the saxon Cedric should leave our convent ere his wounds were healed, It were shame to our profession were we to suffer it. "'Nor would I desire to leave your hospitable roof, venerable father,' said Ivanhoe. "'Did I not feel myself able to endure the journey, and compelled to undertake it?' "'And what can have urged you to so sudden a departure?' said the prior. "'Have you never, holy father,' answered the knight, "'felt an apprehension of approaching evil, for which you in vain attempted to assign a cause?' Have you never found your mind darkened, like the sunny landscape by a sudden cloud which augurs a coming tempest?
And thinkest thou not that such impulses are deserving of attention as being the hints of our guardian spirits that danger is impending? I may not deny, said the prior, crossing himself, that such things have been, and have been of heaven, but then such communications have had a visibly useful scope and tendency. But thou, wounded as thou art, What avails it thou shouldst follow the steps of him whom thou couldst not aid were he to be assaulted? Prior, said Ivanhoe, thou dost mistake. I am stout enough to exchange buffets with any who will challenge me to such a traffic. But were it otherwise, may I not aid him were he in danger by other means than by force of arms? It is but too well known that the Saxons love not the Norman race.
And who knows what may be the issue, if he break in upon them when their hearts are irritated by the death of Athelstane, and their heads heated by the carousal in which they will indulge themselves. I hold his entrance among them at such a moment most perilous, and I am resolved to share or avert the danger, which, that I may the better do, I would crave of thee the use of some palfrey, whose pace may be softer than that of my destroyer. Surely, said the worthy churchman, You shall have mine own ambling jennet, and I would it ambled as easily for your sake as that of the abbot of St. Albans. Yet this will I say for Melkin, for so I call her, that unless you were to borrow a ride in the juggler's steed that paces a hornpipe amongst the eggs, you could not go on a journey on a creature so gentle and smooth-paced.
I have composed many a homily on her back to the edification of my brethren of the convent, and many poor Christian souls. "'I pray you, reverend father,' said Ivanhoe, "'let Malkin be got ready instantly, and bid Girth attend me with mine arms.' "'Nay, but fair sir,' said the prior, "'I pray you to remember that Malkin hath as little skill in arms as her master, and that I warrant not her enduring the sight or weight of your full panoply. O Malkin, I promise you, is a beast of judgment, and will contend against any undue weight.' I did but borrow the fructous temporum from the priest of St. B's, and I promise you she would not stir from the gate until I had exchanged the huge volume for my little breviary.
Trust me, holy father, said Ivanhoe. I will not distress her with too much weight, and if she calls a combat with me, it is odds, but she has the worst. This reply was made while Girth was buckling on the knight's heels a pair of large gilded spurs, capable of convincing any restive horse that his best safety lay in being conformable to the will of his rider. The deep and sharp rowels with which Ivanhoe's heels were now armed began to make the worthy prior repent of his courtesy and ejaculate. Nay, but fair sir, now I bethink me, my Malkin abideth not the spur. Better it were that you tarry for the mare of Armancipal down at the Grange, which may be had in little more than an hour. And cannot but be tractable, in respect that she draweth much of our winter firewood, and eateth no corn.
I thank you, reverend father, but will abide by your first offer, as I see Malkin is already led forth to the gate. Girth shall carry mine armor, and for the rest rely on it, that as I will not overload Malkin's back, she shall not overcome my patience. And now, farewell. Ivanhoe now descended the stairs more hastily and easily than as wound promised, and threw himself upon the jennet, eager to escape the importunity of the prior, who stuck as closely to his side as his age and fatness would permit, now singing the praises of Malkin, now recommending caution to the knight in managing her. "'She is at the most dangerous period for maidens as well as mares,' said the old man, laughing at his own jest, being barely in her fifteenth year.
Ivanhoe, who had other web to weave than to stand canvassing a palfrey's paces with its owner, lent but a deaf ear to the prior's grave advices and facetious jests, and having leapt on his mare, and commanded his squire, for such girth now called himself, to keep close by his side, he followed the track of the black knight into the forest, while the prior stood at the gate of the convent, looking after him, and ejaculating, St. Mary! How prompt and fiery be these men of war! I would I had not trusted Malkin to his keeping, for, crippled as I am with the cold room, I am undone if aught but good befalls her. And yet, said he, recollecting himself, as I would not spare my own old and disabled limbs in the good cause of old England, so Malkin must e'en run her hazard on the same venture.
And it may be they will think our poor house worthy of some munificent guerdon, Or it may be they will send the old prior a pacing nag, and if they do none of these, as great men will forget little men's service, truly I shall hold me well repaid in having done that which is right. And it is now well-nigh the fitting time to summon the brethren to breakfast in the refectory. Ah, I doubt they obey that call more cheerily than the bells for primes and matins. So the prior of St. Boltoff's hobbled back again into the refectory, to preside over the stockfish and ale, which was just serving out for the friar's breakfast. Busy and important, he sat him down at the table, and many a dark word he threw out of benefits to be expected to the convent, and high deeds of service done by himself, which, at another season, would have attracted observation.
But as the stockfish was highly salted, and the ale reasonably powerful, the jaws of the brethren were too anxiously employed, to admit of their making much use of their ears. Nor do we read of any of the fraternity, who was tempted to speculate upon the mysterious hints of their superior, except Father Diggory, who was severely afflicted by the toothache, so that he could only eat on one side of his jaws. In the meantime, the black champion and his guide were pacing at their leisure through the recesses of the forest. The good knight, whilst humming to himself the lay of some enamored troubadour, Sometimes encouraging by questions the prating disposition of his attendant, so that their dialogue formed a whimsical mixture of song and jest, of which we would fain give our readers some idea.
You are then to imagine this knight, such as we have already described him, strong of person, tall, broad-shouldered, and large of bone, mounted on his mighty black charger, which seemed made on purpose to bear his weight, so easily he paced forward under it, Having the visor of his helmet raised, in order to admit freedom of breath, yet keeping the beaver or underpart closed, so that his features could be but imperfectly distinguished. But his ruddy, embrowned cheek-bones could be plainly seen, and the large and bright blue eyes that flashed from under the dark shade of the raised visor. And the whole gesture and look of the champion expressed careless gaiety and fearless confidence, a mind which was unapt to apprehend danger, and prompt to defy it when most imminent, yet with whom danger was a familiar thought, as with one whose trade was war and adventure.
The jester wore his usual fantastic habit, but late accidents had led him to adopt a good cutting falchion instead of his wooden sword, with a targe to match it. Of both which weapons he had, notwithstanding his profession, shown himself a skilful master during the storming of Torkelstone. Indeed, the infirmity of Wamba's brain consisted chiefly in a kind of impatient irritability, which suffered him not long to remain quiet in any posture, or adhere to any certain train of ideas, although he was for a few minutes alert enough in performing any immediate task, or in apprehending any immediate topic. On horseback, therefore, he was perpetually swinging himself backwards and forwards, now on the horse's ears, Then anon on the very rump of the animal, now hanging both his legs on one side, and now sitting with his face to the tail, moping, mowing, and making a thousand apish gestures, until his palfrey took his freaks so much to heart as fairly to lay him at his length on the green grass, an incident which greatly amused the knight, but compelled his companion to ride more steadily thereafter.
At the point of their journey at which we take them up, This joyous pair were engaged in singing of Verlet, as it was called, in which the clown bore a mellow burden to the better instructed knight of the fetterlock. And thus ran the ditty. Anna-marie love, up is the sun. Anna-marie love, morn is begun. Mists are dispersing love, birds singing free. Up in the morning love, Anna-marie. Anna-marie love, up in the morn. The hunter is winding blithe sounds on his horn. The echo rings merry from rock and from tree. Tis time to arouse thee, love, Anna-Marie. Wamba. O Tybalt, love, Tybalt, awake me not yet, around my soft pillow while softer dreams flit. For what are the joys that in waking we prove compared with those visions, O Tybalt, my love?
Let the birds to the rise of the mist carol shrill. Let the hunter blow out his loud horn on the hill. Softer sounds, softer pleasures, in slumber I prove. But think not I dreamt of thee, Tybalt, my love. A dainty song, said Wamba, when they had finished their carol. And I swear by my bauble a pretty morrow. I used to sing it with girth, once my playfellow, and now, by the grace of God and his master, no less than a freeman. And we once came by the cudgel for being so entranced by the melody, That we lay in bed two hours after sunrise, singing the ditty betwixt sleeping and waking. My bones ache at thinking of the tune ever since. Nevertheless, I have played the part of Anna Marie to please you, fair sir.
The jester next struck into another carol a sort of comic ditty, to which the knight, catching up the tune, replied in the like manner. Knight and Wamba. There came three merry men from south, west, and north, Evermore sing the Roundelay, to win the widow of Wickham forth. And where was the widow might say them nay? The first was a knight, and from Tyndale he came. Evermore sing the Roundelay. And his fathers, God save us, were men of great fame, and where was the widow might say him nay? Of his father the laird, of his uncle the squire, he boasted in Rhine and in Roundelay. She bade him go bask by his sea-coal fire, For she was the widow would say him nay. Wamba. The next that came forth, swore by blood and by nails, merrily sing the roundelay.
Hers a gentleman, God wot, and hers lineage was of Wales, and where was the widow might say him nay. Sir David ap Morgan, ap Griffith, ap Hugh, ap Tudor, ap Rhys, quoth his roundelay. She said that one widow, for so many was so few. And she bade the Welshman wend his way. But then next came a yeoman, a yeoman of Kent, jollily singing his roundelay. He spoke to the widow of living and rent, and where was the widow could say him nay? Both. So the knight and the squire were both left in the mire, therefore to sing their roundelay, for a yeoman of Kent, with his yearly rent, there never was a widow could say him nay. I would, Wamba, said the knight, that our host of the trysting-tree, or the jolly friar, his chaplain, heard this thy ditty in praise of our bluff yeomen.
So would not I, said Wamba, but for the horn that hangs at your baldric. Ay, said the knight, this is a pledge of Locksley's good will, though I am not like to need it. Three moths on this bugle will, I am assured, bring round, at our need, a jolly band of yonder honest yeomen. I would say, Heaven forfend, said the jester, were it not that that fair gift is a pledge they would let us pass peaceably. Why, what meanest thou, said the knight? Thinkest thou that but for this pledge of fellowship they would assault us? Nay, for me I say nothing, said Wamba, for green trees have ears as well as stone walls. But canst thou construe me this, sir knight? When is thy wine-pitcher and thy purse better empty than full?
Why, never, I think, replied the knight. Thou never deservest to have a full one in thy hand for so simple an answer. Thou hadst best empty thy pitcher ere thou pass it to a saxon, and leave thy money at home ere thou walk in the greenwood. You hold our friends for robbers, then, said the knight of the fetter lock. You hear me not say so, fair sir, said Wamba. It may relieve a man's steed to take off his mail when he hath a long journey to make. And certez, it may do good to the rider's soul to ease him of that which is the root of evil. Therefore will I give no hard names to those who do such services. Only I would wish my mail at home, and my purse in my chamber, when I meet with these good fellows, because it might save them some trouble.
We are bound to pray for them, my friend, notwithstanding the fair character thou dost afford them. Pray for them with all my heart, said Wamba. But in the town, not in the greenwood, like the abbot of St. Bies, whom they caused to say mass with an old hollow oak-tree for his stall. "'Say as thou list, Wamba,' replied the knight, "'these yeomen did thy master Cedric yeomanly service at Torkelstone.' "'Ay, truly,' answered Wamba. But that was in the fashion of their trade with heaven.' "'Their trade, Wamba! How mean you by that?' replied his companion. "'Marry thus,' said the jester. "'They make up a balanced account with heaven, as our old sellerer used to call his ciphering, as fair as Isaac the Jew keeps with his debtors, and, like him, give out a very little, and take large credit for doing so, reckoning doubtless on their own behalf the sevenfold usury which the blessed text hath promised to charitable loans.
Give me an example of your meaning, Wamba. I know nothing of ciphers or rates of usage.' answered the knight. Why, said Wamba, an your valour be so dull, you will please to learn that those honest fellows balance a good deed with one not quite so laudable, as a crown given to a begging friar with an hundred business taken from a fat abbot, or a wench kissed in the greenwood with the relief of a poor widow. Which of these was the good deed, and which was the felony? interrupted the knight. A good jibe, a good jibe, said Wamba. Keeping witty company sharpeneth the apprehension. You said nothing so well, sir knight, I will be sworn, when you held drunken vespers with the bluff hermit. But go on.
The merry men of the forest set off the building of a cottage with the burning of a castle, the thatching of a choir against the robbing of a church, the setting free of a poor prisoner against the murder of a proud sheriff, or, to come nearer to our point, The deliverance of a saxon franklin against the burning alive of a norman baron. Gentle thieves they are, in short, and courteous robbers, but it is ever the luckiest to meet with them when they are at the worst. How so, Wamba? said the knight. Why, then they have some compunction, and are for making up matters with heaven. But when they have struck an even balance, heaven help them with whom they next open the account. The travelers who first met them after their good service at Torkelstone would have a woeful flaying.
And yet, said Wamba, coming close up to the knight's side, there be companions who are far more dangerous for travelers to meet than yonder outlaws. And who may they be, for you have neither bears nor wolves, I trow, said the knight. Merry, sir, but we have Melvoyson's men-at-arms, said Wamba. And let me tell you that, in time of civil war, A half-score of these is worth a band of wolves at any time. They are now expecting their harvest, and are reinforced with the soldiers that escaped from Torkelstone, so that, should we meet with a band of them, we are like to pay for our feats of arms. Now, I pray you, Sir Knight, what would you do if we met two of them? Pin the villains to the earth with my lance, Wamba, if they offered us any impediment.
But what if there were four of them? They should drink of the same cup, answered the knight. "'What if six?' continued Wamba, "'and we, as we now are, barely two. Would you not remember Locksley's horn?' "'What, sound for aid?' exclaimed the knight, "'against a score of such rascal as these, whom one good knight could drive before him as the wind drives the withered leaves?' "'Nay, then,' said Wamba, I will pray you for a close sight of that same horn that hath so powerful a breath. The knight undid the clasp of the baldric, and indulged his fellow-traveler, who immediately hung the bugle around his own neck. Tra-leer-a-la, said he, whistling the notes. Nay, I know my gamut as well as another.
How mean you, knave, said the knight. Restore me the bugle. Content you, sir knight, it is in safe keeping. When valor and folly travel, folly should bear the horn, because she can blow the best. Nay, but, rogue, said the black knight, this exceedeth thy license. Beware ye temper not with my patience. Urge me not with violence, sir knight, said the jester, keeping at a distance from the impatient champion, or folly will show a clean pair of heels, and leave valor to find out his way through the wood as best he may. Nay, thou hast hit me there, said the knight, and, sooth to say, I have little time to jangle with thee. Keep the horn, and thou wilt, but let us proceed on our journey. You will not harm me, then, said Wamba.
I tell thee no, thou knave. Ay, but pledge me your knightly word for it, continued Wamba, as he approached with great caution. My knightly word I pledge. Only come on with thy foolish self. Nay, then, Valor and Folly are once more boon companions, said the jester, coming up frankly to the knight's side. But in truth, I love not such buffets as that you bestowed on the burly friar when his holiness rolled on the green like a king of the ninepins. And now that Folly wears the horn, let Valor rouse himself and shake his mane. For, if I mistake not, there are company in yonder brake that are on the lookout for us. What makes thee judge so? said the knight. Because I have twice or thrice noticed the glance of emotion from amongst the green leaves.
Had they been honest men, they had kept the path. But yonder thicket is a choice chapel for the clerks of St. Nicholas. By my faith, said the knight, closing his visor, I think thou beest in the right on it. And in good time did he close it. For three arrows flew at the same instant from the suspected spot against his head and breast, one of which would have penetrated to the brain had it not been turned aside by the steel visor. The other two were averted by the gorget, and by the shield which hung around his neck. "'Thanks, trusty armorers,' said the knight. "'Wamba, let us close with them,' and he rode straight to the thicket. He was met by six or seven men-at-arms, who ran against him with their lances at full career.
Three of the weapons struck against him and splintered with as little effect as if they had been driven against a tower of steel. The black knight's eyes seemed to flash fire even through the aperture of his visor. He raised himself in his stirrups with an air of inexpressible dignity, and exclaimed, "'What means this, my masters?' The men made no other reply than by drawing their swords and attacking him on every side, crying, "'Die, tyrant!' "'Ha! St. Edward!' Ha! St. George! said the black knight, striking down a man at every invocation. Have we traitors here? His opponents, desperate as they were, bore back from an arm which carried death in every blow, and it seemed as if the terror of his single strength was about to gain the battle against such odds, when a knight in blue armor, who had hitherto kept himself behind the other assailants, spurred forward with his lance, and taking aim not at the rider but at the steed, wounded the noble animal mortally.
That was a felon stroke, exclaimed the black knight, as the steed fell to the earth bearing his rider along with him. And at this moment Wamba winded the bugle, for the hole had passed so speedily that he had not time to do so sooner. The sudden sound made the murderers bear back once more, and Wamba, though so imperfectly weaponed, did not hesitate to rush in and assist the black knight to rise. Shame on ye, false cowards! exclaimed he in the blue harness, who seemed to lead the assailants. Do ye fly from the empty blast of a horn blown by a jester? Animated by his words, they attacked the black knight anew, whose best refuge was now to place his back against an o and defend himself with his sword.
The felon knight, who had taken another spear, watching the moment when his formidable antagonist was most closely pressed, Galloped against him in hopes to nail him with his lance against the tree, when his purpose was again intercepted by Wamba. The jester, making up by agility the want of strength, and little noticed by the men-at-arms, who were busied in their more important object, hovered on the skirts of the fight, and effectually checked the fatal career of the Blue Knight by hamstringing his horse with a stroke of his sword. Horse and man went to the ground, Yet the situation of the knight of the fetterlock continued very precarious, as he was pressed close by several men completely armed, and began to be fatigued by the violent exertions necessary to defend himself on so many points at nearly the same moment, when a grey goose-shaft suddenly stretched on the earth one of the most formidable of his assailants, and a band of yeomen broke forth from the glade, headed by Locksley and the jovial friar, who, taking ready an effectual part in the fray, Soon disposed of the ruffians, all of whom lay on the spot dead or mortally wounded.
The Black Knight thanked his deliverers with a dignity they had not observed in his former bearing, which hitherto had seemed rather that of a blunt, bold soldier than of a person of exalted rank.
It concerns me much, he said, even before I express my full gratitude to my ready friends, to discover, if I may, who have been my unprovoked enemies, Open the visor of that blue knight, Wamba, who seems to be the chief of these villains. The gesture instantly made up to the leader of the assassins, who, bruised by his fall and entangled under the wounded steed, lay incapable either of flight or resistance. Come, valiant sir, said Wamba. I must be your armorer as well as your equerry. I have dismounted you, and now I will unhelm you. So saying, with no very gentle hand, he undid the helmet of the blue knight, which, rolling to a distance on the grass, displayed to the knight of the fetter-lock grizzled locks, and a countenance he did not expect to have seen under such circumstances.
Waldemar Fitzhurst, he said in astonishment, what could urge one of thy rank and seeming worth to so foul an undertaking? Richard, said the captive knight, looking up to him, thou knowest little of mankind, If thou knowest not to what ambition and revenge can lead every child of Adam. Revenge? answered the black knight. I never wronged thee. On me thou hast not to revenge. My daughter, Richard, whose alliance thou didst scorn, was that no injury to a Norman whose blood is as noble as thine own? Thy daughter? replied the black knight. A proper cause of enmity, and followed up to a bloody issue. Stand back, my masters, I would speak to him alone. And now, Waldemar Fitzhurst, say me the truth. Confess who set thee on this traitorous deed.
Thy father's son, answered Waldemar, who, in so doing, did but avenge on thee thy disobedience to thy father. Richard's eyes sparkled with indignation, but his better nature overcame it. He pressed his hand against his brow, and remained an instant gazing on the face of the humbled baron, in whose features pride was contending with shame. "'Thou dost not ask thy life, Waldemar,' said the king. "'He that is in the lion's clutch,' answered Fitzgerald, "'knows it were needless.' "'Take it, then, unasked,' said Richard. "'The lion prays not on prostrate carcasses. Take thy life, but with this condition, that in three days thou shalt leave England, and go to hide thine infamy in thy norman castle, and that thou wilt never mention the name of John of Anjou as connected with thy felony.
If thou art found on English ground after the space I have allotted thee, thou diest, or if thou breathest aught that can attain to the honor of my house, by St. George not the altar itself shall be a sanctuary. I will hang thee out to feed the ravens from the very pinnacle of thine own castle. Let this knight have a steed, Locksley, For I see your yeoman have caught those which were running loose, and let him depart unharmed. But that I judge I listen to a voice whose behests must not be disputed, answered the yeoman, I would send a shaft after the skulking villain that should spare him the labor of a long journey. Thou bearest an English heart, Locksley, said the black knight, and well dost judge thou art the more bound to obey my behest.
I am Richard of England. At these words, pronounced in a tone of majesty suited to the high rank and no less distinguished character of Cors de Leon, the yeomen at once kneeled down before him, and at the same time tendered their allegiance and implored pardon for their offenses. Rise, my friends, said Richard, in a gracious tone, Looking on them with a countenance in which his habitual good-humor had already conquered the blaze of hasty resentment, and whose features retained no mark of the late desperate conflict, excepting the flush arising from exertion. Arise, he said, my friends. Your misdemeanors, whether in forest or field, have been atoned by the loyal services you rendered my distressed subjects before the walls of Torkelstone, and the rescue you have this day afforded to your sovereign.
Arise, my liegemen, and be good subjects in future. And thou, brave Locksley, call me no longer Locksley, my liege, but know me under the name, which, I fear, fame hath flown too widely not to have reached even your royal ears. I am Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest. King of outlaws and prince of good fellows, said the king, who hath not heard a name that has been born as far as Palestine? But be assured, brave outlaw, That no deed done in our absence, and in the turbulent times to which it hath given rise, shall be remembered to thy disadvantage. True says the proverb, said Wamba, interposing his word, but with some abatement of his usual petulance. When the cat is away, the mice will play. What, Wamba, art thou there?
said Richard. I have been so long of hearing thy voice. I thought thou hadst taken flight. I take flight, said Wamba. When do you ever find folly separated from valor? There lies the trophy of my sword, that good gray gelding, whom I heartily wish upon his legs again, conditioning his master lay there hewed in his place. It is true I gave a little ground at first, for a motley jacket does not brook lance-heads, as a steel doublet will. But if I fought not at sword's point, you will grant me that I sounded the onset. And to good purpose, honest Wamba, replied the king, thy good service shall not be forgotten. Confidior, confidior, exclaimed in a submissive tone, a voice near the king's side. My latin will carry me no farther, but I confess my deadly treason, and pray leave to have absolution before I am led to execution.
Richard looked around, and beheld the jovial friar on his knees, telling his rosary, While his quarter-staff, which had not been idle during the skirmish, lay on the grass beside him. His countenance was gathered so as he thought might best express the most profound contrition, his eyes being turned up, and the corners of his mouth drawn down, as Wamba expressed it, like the tassels at the mouth of a purse. Yet this demure affectation of extreme penitence was whimsically belied by a ludicrous meaning which lurked in his huge features, and seemed to pronounce his fear and repentance alike hypocritical. For what art thou cast down, mad priest? said Richard. Art thou afraid thy diocesan should learn how truly thou dost serve our Lady and St.
Dunstan? Tush, man, fear it not! Richard of England betrays no secrets that pass over the flagon. Nay, most gracious sovereign, answered the hermit, well known to the curious and penny histories of Robin Hood by the name of Friar Tuck. It is not the crozier, I fear, but the sceptre. Alas, that my sacrilegious fist should ever have been applied to the ear of the Lord's anointed. Ha, ha! said Richard. Sits the wind there? In truth, I had forgotten the buffet, though mine ears sung after it for a whole day. But if the cuff was fairly given, I will be judged by the good men around if it was not as well repaid, or, if thou thinkest I still owe thee aught, And will stand forth for another counter-buff.
By no means, replied Friar Tuck. I had mine own returned, and with usury. May your Majesty ever pay your debts as fully. If I could do so with cuffs, said the king, my creditors should have little reason to complain of an empty exchequer. And yet, said the Friar, resuming his demure hypocritical countenance, I know not what penance I ought to perform for that most sacrilegious blow. Speak no more of it, brother, said the king. After having stood so many cuffs from paynims and misbelievers, I were void of reason to quarrel with the buffet of a clerk so holy as he of Copmanhurst. Yet, mine honest friar, I think it would be best both for the church and thyself that I should procure a license to unfrock thee, and retain thee as a yeoman of our guard, serving in care of our person, as formerly in attendance upon the altar of St.
Dunstan. My liege, said the friar, I humbly crave your pardon, and you would readily grant my excuse, did you but know how the sin of laziness has beset me. St. Dunstan, may he be gracious to us, stands quiet in his niche, though I should forget my orisons in killing a fat buck. I stay out of my cell sometimes at night, doing I what not what. St. Dunstan never complains. A quiet master he is, and a peaceful, as ever was made of wood. But to be a yeoman in attendance on my sovereign the king, the honor is great, doubtless. Yet, if I were but to step aside to comfort a widow in one corner, or to kill a deer in another, it would be, Where is the dog-priest, says one? Who has seen the accursed tuck, says another?
The unfrocked villain destroys more venison than half the country besides, says one keeper, and is hunting after every shy doe in the country, quoth a second. In fine good, my liege, I pray you to leave me as you found me, or, if in aught you desire to extend your benevolence to me, that I may be considered as the poor clerk of St. Dunstan's cell in Cotmanhurst, to whom any small donation will be most thankfully acceptable.
I understand thee, said the king, and the holy clerk shall have a grant of vert and venison in my woods of Warncliffe. Mark, however, I will but assign thee three bucks every season, but if that do not prove an apology for thy slaying thirty, I am no Christian knight nor true king. Your grace may be well assured, said the friar, that, with the grace of St. Dunstan, I shall find the way of multiplying your most bounteous gift. I nothing doubt it, good brother, said the king, and as venison is but dry food, Our sellerer shall have orders to deliver to thee a bud of sack, a runlet of Malvoise, and three hogsheads of ale for the first strike yearly. If that will not quench thy thirst, thou must come to court, and become acquainted with my butler.
But for St. Dunstan, said the prior, a cope, a stole, and an altar-cloth shalt thou also have, continued the king, crossing himself. But we may not turn our game into earnest, Lest God punish us for thinking more on our follies than on his honor and worship. "'I will answer for my patron,' said the priest joyously. "'Answer for thyself, Friar,' said King Richard, something sternly. But immediately stretching out his hand to the hermit, the latter, somewhat abashed, bent his knee and saluted it. "'Thou dost less honor to my extended palm than to my clenched fist,' said the monarch. "'Thou didst only kneel to the one, And to the other didst prostrate thyself. But the friar, afraid perhaps of again giving offence by continuing the conversation into jocosa style, a false step to be particularly guarded against by those who converse with monarchs, bowed profoundly and fell into the rear.
At the same time two additional personages appeared on the scene.
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All hail to the lordlings of high degree, Who live not more happy, though greater than we, Our pastimes to see, Under every green tree, In all the gay woodland, Right welcome ye be. MacDonald. The new-comers were Wilfred of Ivanhoe, on the prior of Bolthof's Palfrey, and Girth, who attended him on the knight's own war-horse. The astonishment of Ivanhoe was beyond bounds when he saw his master be sprinkled with blood, and six or seven dead bodies lying around in the little glade in which the battle had taken place. Nor was he less surprised to see Richard surrounded by so many sylvan attendants, the outlaws as they seemed to be, of the forest, and a perilous retinue, therefore, for a prince. He hesitated whether to address the king as the black knight-errant, or in what other manner to demean himself towards him.
Richard saw his embarrassment. Fear not, Wilfred, he said, to address Richard Plantagenet as himself, since thou seest him in the company of true English hearts, although it may be they have been urged a few steps aside by warm English blood. Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe, said the gallant outlaw, stepping forward, my assurances can add nothing to those of our sovereign. Yet let me say, somewhat proudly, that of men who have suffered much, he hath not truer subjects than those who now stand around him. I cannot doubt it, brave man, said Wilfred, since thou art of the number. But what mean these marks of death and danger, these slain men, and the bloody armour of my prince? Treason hath been with us, Ivanhoe, said the king, but thanks to these brave men treason hath met its mead.
But now I bethink thee, thou too art a traitor, said Richard, smiling, a most disobedient traitor, for were not our orders positive that thou shouldst repose thyself at St. Bolthof's until thy wound was healed? It is healed, said Ivanhoe. It is not of more consequence than the scratch of a vodkin. But why, O why, noble prince, Will you thus vex the hearts of your faithful servants, and expose your life by lonely journeys and rash adventures, as if it were of no more value than that of a mere knight-errant, who has no interest on earth but what lance and sword may procure him? And Richard Plantagenet, said the king, desires no more fame than his good lance and sword may acquire him. And Richard Plantagenet is prouder of achieving an adventure, with only his good sword and his good arm to speed, than if he led to battle a host of an hundred thousand armed men.
"'But your kingdom, my liege,' said Ivanhoe, "'your kingdom is threatened with dissolution and civil war. Your subjects menaced with every species of evil, if deprived of their sovereign in some of those dangers which it is your daily pleasure to incur, and from which you have but this moment merely escaped.' "'Ho, ho, my kingdom and my subjects,' answered Richard impatiently. I tell thee, Sir Wilfred, the best of them are most willing to repay my follies in kind. For example, my very faithful servant, Wilfred of Ivanhoe, will not obey my positive commands, and yet reads his king a homily, because he does not walk exactly by his advice. Which of us has most reason to upbraid the other? Yet forgive me, my faithful Wilfred.
The time I have spent, and am yet to spend in concealment, is, as I explained to thee at St. Botolph's, Necessary to give my friends and faithful nobles time to assemble their forces, that when Richard's return is announced, he should be at the head of such a force as enemies shall tremble to face, and thus subdue the meditated treason without even unsheathing a sword. Estoudeville and Bohun will not be strong enough to move forward to York for twenty-four hours. I must have news of Salisbury from the South, and of Beecham in Warwickshire, and of Moulton and Percy in the North. The chancellor must make sure of London. Too sudden an appearance would subject me to dangers other than my lance and sword, though backed by the bow of Bold Robin, or the quarterstaff of Friar Tuck, and the horn of the sage Wamba, may be able to rescue me from.
Wilfred bowed in submission, well knowing how vain it was to contend with the wild spirit of chivalry which so often impelled his master upon dangers which he might easily have avoided, Or rather, which it was unpardonable in him to have sought out. The young knight sighed, therefore, and held his peace, while Richard, rejoiced at having silenced his counsellor, though his heart acknowledged the justice of the charge he had brought against him, went on in conversation with Robin Hood. King of outlaws, he said, have you no refreshment to offer to your brother's sovereign? For these dead knaves have found me both in exercise and appetite. In troth, replied the outlaw, For I scorn to lie to your grace.
Our larder is chiefly supplied with—he stopped, and was somewhat embarrassed. "'With venison, I suppose?' said Richard gaily. "'Better food at need there can be none, and truly, if a king will not remain at home and slay his own game, methinks he should not brawl too loud if he finds it killed to his hand.' "'If your grace, then,' said Robin, will again honor with your presence one of Robin Hood's places of rendezvous, The venison shall not be lacking, and a stoop of ale, and it may be a cup of reasonably good wine, to relish it withal. The outlaw accordingly led the way, followed by the buxom monarch, more happy probably in this chance meeting with Robin Hood and his foresters, than he would have been in again assuming his royal state, and presiding over a splendid circle of peers and nobles.
Novelty in society and adventure were the zest of life to Richard Corday Leon, and it had its highest relish when enhanced by dangers encountered and surmounted. In The Lion-hearted King, the brilliant but useless character of a knight of romance was in a great measure realized and revived, and the personal glory which he acquired by his own deeds of arms was far more dear to his excited imagination than that which a course of policy and wisdom would have spread around his government. Accordingly, his reign was like the course of a brilliant and rapid meteor, which shoots along the face of heaven, shedding around an unnecessary and portentous light, which is instantly swallowed up by universal darkness, his feats of chivalry furnishing themes for bards and minstrels, but affording none of those solid benefits to his country on which history loves to pause and hold up as an example to posterity.
But in his present company, Richard showed to the greatest imaginable advantage. He was gay, good-humored, and fond of manhood in every rank of life. Beneath a huge oak-tree, the sylvanry past was hastily prepared for the king of England, surrounded by men outlaws to his government, but who now formed his court and his guard. As the flagon went round, the rough foresters soon lost their awe for the presence of majesty. A song and the jest were exchanged, the stories of former deeds were told with advantage, and at length, and while boasting of their successful infraction of the laws, No one recollected they were speaking in presence of their natural guardian. The merry king, nothing heeding his dignity any more than his company, laughed, quaffed, and jested among the jolly band.
The natural and rough sense of Robin Hood led him to be desirous that the scene should be closed, ere anything should occur to disturb its harmony, the more especially that he observed Ivanhoe's brow clouded with anxiety. "'We are honored,' he said to Ivanhoe, apart. by the presence of our gallant sovereign. Yet I would not that he dallied with time, which the circumstance of his kingdom may render precious. It is well and wisely spoken, brave Robin Hood, said Wilfred, apart, and know, moreover, that they who jest with majesty, even in its gayest mood, are but toying with the lion's whelp, which, on slight provocation, uses both fangs and claws. You have touched the very cause of my fear, said the outlaw.
My men are rough by practice and nature. The king is hasty as well as good-humored. Nor know I how soon cause of offense may arise, or how warmly it may be received. It is time this revel were broken off. It must be by your management, then, gallant yeoman, said Ivanhoe, for each hint I have essayed to give him serves only to induce him to prolong it. Must I so soon risk the pardon in favor of my sovereign, said Robin Hood, pausing for all instant? But by St. Christopher it shall be so. I were undeserving his grace, did I not peril it for his good. Here, Scaflock, get thee behind yonder thicket, and wind me a Norman blast on thy bugle, and without an instant's delay, on peril of your life. Scaflock obeyed his captain, and in less than five minutes the revellers were started by the sound of his horn.
"'It is the bugle of Malvoisen,' said the miller, starting to his feet and seizing the bow. The friar dropped the flagon and grasped his quarter-staff. Wamba stopped short in the midst of a jest, and betook himself to sword and target. All the others stood to their weapons. Men of their precarious course of life changed readily from the banquet to the battle, and, to Richard, the exchange seemed but a succession of pleasure. He called for his helmet and the most cumbrous parts of his armor, which he had laid aside, and while Girth was putting them on, He laid his strict injunctions on Wilfred, under pain of his highest displeasure, not to engage in the skirmish which he supposed was approaching.
"'Thou hast fought for me an hundred times, Wilfred, and I have seen it. Thou shalt this day look on, and see how Richard will fight for his friend and liegeman.' In the meantime, Robin Hood had sent off several of his followers in different directions, as if to reconnoitre the enemy, and when he saw the company effectually broken up, He approached Richard, who was now completely armed, and, kneeling down on one knee, craved pardon of his sovereign. "'For what, good yeoman?' said Richard, somewhat impatiently. "'Have we not already granted thee a full pardon for all transgressions? Thinkest thou our word as a feather, to be blown backward and forward between us? Thou canst not have had time to commit any new offence since that time?' "'Ay, but I have, though,' answered the yeoman.
if it be an offence to deceive my prince for his own advantage. The bugle you have heard was none of Melvoisen's, but blown by my direction to break off the banquet, lest it trenched upon hours of dearer import than to be thus dallied with. He then rose from his knee, folded his arm on his bosom, and in a manner rather respectful than submissive, awaited the answer of the king. Like one who is conscious he may have given offence, yet is confident in the rectitude of his motive. The blood rushed in anger to the countenance of Richard, but it was the first transient emotion, and his sense of justice instantly subdued it. The King of Sherwood, he said, grudges his venison and his wine-flask to the King of England?
It is well, bold Robin, but when you come to see me in Mary London, I trust to be a less niggard host. Thou art right, however, good fellow. Let us therefore to horse and away. Wilfred has been impatient this hour. Tell me, bold Robin, hast thou never a friend in thy band, who, not content with advising, will needs direct thy motions, and look miserable when thou dost presume to act for thyself? Such a one, said Robin, is my lieutenant, Little John, who is even now absent on an expedition as far as the borders of Scotland, and I will own to your majesty that I am sometimes displeased by the freedom of his counsels, but, when I think twice, I cannot be long angry with one who can have no motive for his anxiety save zeal for his master's service.
"'Thou art right, good yeoman,' answered Richard. "'And if I had Ivanhoe, on the one hand, to give grave advice, and recommended by the sad gravity of his brow, and thee, on the other, to trick me into what thou thinkest my own good, I should have as little the freedom of mine own will as any king in Christendom or heatheness.' But come, sirs, let us merrily on to Konigsberg, and think no more on it. Robin Hood assured them that he had detached a party in the direction of the road they were to pass, who would not fail to discover and apprise them of any secret ambuscade, and that he had little doubt they would find the ways secure, or, if otherwise, would receive such timely notice of the danger as would enable them to fall back on a strong troop of archers, with which he himself proposed to follow on the same route.
The wise and attentive precautions adopted for his safety touched Richard's feelings, and removed any slight grudge which he might retain on account of the deception the outlaw captain had practiced upon him. He once more extended his hand to Robin Hood, assured him of his full pardon and future favor, as well as his firm resolution to restrain the tyrannical exercise of the forest rights and other oppressive laws by which so many English yeomen were driven into a state of rebellion. But Richard's good intentions towards the bold outlaw were frustrated by the king's untimely death, and the charter of the forest was extorted from the unwilling hands of King John when he succeeded to his heroic brother.
As for the rest of Robin Hood's career, as well as the tale of his treacherous death, they are to be found in those black-letter garlands once sold at the low and easy rate of one-halfpenny, now cheaply purchased at their weight in gold. The outlaw's opinion proved true, and the king attended by Ivanhoe, Girth, and Wamba arrived, without any interruption, within view of the castle of Konigsberg, while the sun was yet in the horizon. There are few more beautiful or striking scenes in England than are presented by the vicinity of this ancient Saxon fortress. The soft and gentle river Don sweeps through an amphitheatre, in which cultivation is richly blended with woodland, And on a mount, ascending from the river, well defended by walls and ditches, rises this ancient edifice, which, as its Saxon name implies, was, previous to the conquest, a royal residence of the kings of England.
The outer walls have probably been added by the Normans, but the inner keep bears token of a very great antiquity. It is situated on a mount at one angle of the inner court, and forms a complete circle of perhaps twenty-five feet in diameter. The wall is of immense thickness, and is propped or defended by six huge external buttresses, which project from the circle, and rise up against the sides of the tower, as if to strengthen or to support it. These massive buttresses are solid when they arise from the foundation, and a good way higher up, but are hollowed out towards the top, and terminate in a sort of turrets communicating with the interior of the keep itself. The distant appearance of this huge building, with these singular accompaniments, is as interesting to the lovers of the picturesque as the interior of the castle is to the eager antiquary whose imagination it carries back to the days of the heptarchy.
A barrow in the vicinity of the castle is pointed out as the tomb of the memorable Hengist, and various monuments of great antiquity and curiosity are shown in the neighboring churchyard. When Corday Leon and his retinue approached this rude yet stately building, It was not, as at present, surrounded by external fortifications. The Saxon architect had exhausted his art in rendering the main keep defensible, and there was no other circumvallation than a rude barrier of palisades. A huge black banner, which floated from the top of the tower, announced that the obesquies of the late owner were still in the act of being solemnized. It bore no emblem of the deceased's birth or quality, For armorial bearings were then a novelty among the norman chivalry themselves, and were totally unknown to the Saxons.
But above the gate was another banner, on which the figure of a white horse, rudely painted, indicated the nation and rank of the deceased by the well-known symbol of Hengist and his Saxon warriors. All around the castle was a scene of busy commotion, for such funeral banquets were times of general and profuse hospitality, which not only every one who could claim the most distant connection with the deceased, but all passengers whatsoever, were invited to partake. The wealth and consequence of the deceased Athelstane occasioned this custom to be observed in the fullest extent. Numerous parties, therefore, were seen ascending and descending the hill on which the castle was situated, and when the king and his attendants entered the open and unguarded gates of the external barrier, The space within presented a scene not easily reconciled with the cause of the assemblage.
In one place, cooks were toiling to roast huge oxen and fat sheep. In another, hogsheads of ale were set of broach to be drained at the freedom of all comers. Groups of every description were to be seen devouring the food and swallowing the liquor thus abandoned to their discretion. The naked saxon serf was drowning the sense of his half-year's hunger and thirst in one day of gluttony and drunkenness, The more pampered Burgess and gilt brother was eating his morsel with gust, or curiously criticizing the quantity of the malt and the skill of the brewer. Some few of the poorer Norman gentry might also be seen, distinguished by their shaven chins and short cloaks, and not less so by their keeping together and looking with great scorn on the whole solemnity, even while condescending to avail themselves of the good cheer which was so liberally supplied.
Mendicants were, of course, assembled by the score, together with strolling soldiers returned from Palestine, according to their own account at least. Peddlers were displaying their wares, traveling mechanics were inquiring after employment, and wandering palmers, hedge-priests, Saxon minstrels, and Welsh bards were muttering prayers and extracting mistuned dirges from their harps, crowds, and rotes. One sent forth the praises of Athelstane in a doleful panegyric, Another, in a saxon genealogical poem, rehearsed the uncouth and harsh names of his noble ancestry. Jesters and jugglers were not a-wanting, nor was the occasion of the assembly supposed to render the exercise of their profession indecorous or improper.
Indeed, the ideas of the saxons on these occasions were as natural as they were rude. If sorrow was thirsty, there was drink. If hungry, there was food. If it sunk down upon and saddened the heart, There were means supplied of mirth, or at least of amusement. Nor did the assistants scorn to avail themselves of those means of consolation, although every now and then, as if suddenly recollecting the cause which had brought them together, the men groaned in unison, while the females, of whom many were present, raised up their voices and shrieked for very woe. Such was the scene in the castle-yard of Konigsberg, when it was entered by Richard and his followers. The seneschal or steward deigned not to take notice of the groups of inferior guests who were perpetually entering and withdrawing, unless so far as was necessary to preserve order.
Nevertheless, he was struck by the good mien of the monarch and Ivanhoe, more especially as he imagined the features of the latter were familiar to him. Besides, the approach of two knights, for such their dress bespoke them, was a rare event at a Saxon solemnity, and could not but be regarded as a sort of honor to the deceased and his family. And in his sable dress, and holding in his hand his white wand of office, this important personage made way through the miscellaneous assemblage of guests, thus conducting Richard and Ivanhoe to the entrance of the tower. Girth and Wamba speedily found acquaintances in the courtyard, nor presumed to intrude themselves any farther until their presence should be required.
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42 42 - Chapter 42 29:35
I found them winding of Marcello's corpse, and there was such a solemn melody, Twixt doleful songs, tears, and sad elegies, such as old grandames watching by the dead are wont to outwear the night with. Old Play. The mode of entering the great tower of Konigsberg Castle is very peculiar, and partakes of the rude simplicity of the early times in which it was erected. A flight of steps, so deep and narrow as to be almost precipitous, leads up to a low portal in the south side of the tower, by which the adventurous antiquary may still, or at least could a few years since, gain access to a small stair within the thickness of the main wall of the tower, which leads up to the third story of the building, the two lower being dungeons or vaults, which neither receive air nor light, save by a square hole in the third story, with which they seem to have communicated by a ladder.
The access to the upper apartments in the tower, which consist in all of four stories, is given by stairs, which are carried up through the external buttresses. By this difficult and complicated entrance, the good King Richard, followed by his faithful Ivanhoe, was ushered into the round apartment which occupies the whole of the third story from the ground. Wilfred, by the difficulties of the ascent, came time to muffle his face in his mantle, as it had been held expedient that he should not present himself to his father until the king should give him the signal. There were assembled in this apartment, around a large open table, about a dozen of the most distinguished representatives of the Saxon families in the adjacent counties.
They were all old, or at least elderly men. For the younger race, to the great displeasure of the seniors, had, like Ivanhoe, broken down many of the barriers which separated for half a century the Norman victors from the vanquished Saxons. The downcast and sorrowful looks of these venerable men, their silence and their mournful posture, formed a strong contrast to the levity of the revellers on the outside of the castle. Their grey locks and long-full beards, together with their antique tunics and loose black mantles, suited well with the singular and rude apartment in which they were seated, and gave the appearance of a band of ancient worshippers of Gwoden recalled to life to mourn over the decay of their national glory.
Cedric, seated in equal rank among his countrymen, seemed yet, by common consent, to act as chief of the assembly. Upon the entrance of Richard, Only known to him as the valorous knight of the fetterlock, he arose gravely, and gave him welcome by the ordinary salutation, Weiss, Hail, raising at the same time a goblet to his head. The king, no stranger to the customs of his English subjects, returned the greeting with the appropriate words, Drink, Hail, and partook of a cup which was handed to him by the sewer. The same courtesy was offered to Ivanhoe, who pledged his father in silence, Supplying the usual speech by an inclination of his head, lest his voice should have been recognized. When this introductory ceremony was performed, Cedric arose, and, extending his hand to Richard, conducted him into a small and very rude chapel, which was excavated, as it were, out of one of the external buttresses.
As there was no opening, saving a little narrow loophole, the place would have been nearly quite dark, but for two flambeaux or torches, which showed, by a red and smoky light, the arched roof and naked walls, the rude altar of stone, and the crucifix of the same material. Before this altar was placed a bier, and on each side of the bier kneeled three priests, who told their beads and muttered their prayers with the greatest signs of external devotion. For this service a splendid soul-scat was paid to the convent of St. Edmunds by the mother of the deceased, and that it might be fully deserved, the whole brethren, saving the lame sacristan, had transferred themselves to Konigsberg, where, while six of their number were constantly on guard in the performance of divine rites by the Bureau of Athelstain, the others failed not to take their share of the refreshments and amusements which went on at the castle.
In maintaining this pious watch and ward, the good monks were particularly careful not to interrupt their hymns for an instant, lest Zernabach, the ancient Saxon Apollyon, should lay his clutches on the departed Athelstain. Nor were they any less careful to prevent any unhallowed layman from touching the pall, which, having been that used at the funeral of St. Edmund, was liable to be desecrated if handled by the profane. If, in truth, these attentions could be of any use to the deceased, he had some right to expect them at the hands of the brethren of St. Edmund's, since, besides a hundred mancuses of gold paid down as the sole ransom, the mother of Athelstane had announced her intention of endowing that foundation with the better part of the lands of the deceased, in order to maintain perpetual prayers for his soul and that of her departed husband.
Richard and Wilfred followed the Saxon Cedric into the apartment of death, where, as their guide pointed with solemn air to the untimely bier of Athelstain, they followed his example in devoutly crossing themselves, and muttering a brief prayer for the weal of the departed soul. This act of pious charity performed, Cedric again motioned them to follow him, Gliding over the stone floor with a noiseless tread, and, after ascending a few steps, opened with great caution the door of a small oratory, which adjoined to the chapel. It was about eight feet square, hollowed like the chapel itself, out of the thickness of the wall, and the loophole which enlightened it, being to the west, and widening considerably as it sloped inward, a beam of the setting sun found its way into its dark recess, and showed a female of a dignified beam, and whose countenance retained the marked remains of majestic beauty.
Her long morning robes and her flowing wimple of black cypress enhanced the whiteness of her skin, and the beauty of her light-colored and flowing tresses, which time had neither thinned nor mingled with silver. Her countenance expressed the deepest sorrow that is consistent with resignation. On the stone table before her stood a crucifix of ivory, beside which was laid a missal, having its pages richly illuminated, and its boards adorned with clasps of gold and bosses of the same precious metal. Noble Edith, said Cedric, after having stood a moment silent, as if to give Richard and Wilfred time to look upon the lady of the mansion, these are worthy strangers come to take a part in thy sorrows, and this in especial is the valiant knight who fought so bravely for the deliverance of him for whom we this day mourn.
His bravery has my thanks, returned the lady. Although it be the will of heaven that it should be displayed in vain. I thank, too, his courtesy, and that of his companion, which hath brought them hither to behold the widow of Adeling, the mother of Athelstane, in her deep hour of sorrow and lamentation. To your care, kind kinsmen, I entrust them, satisfied that they will want no hospitality which these sad walls can yet afford. The guests bowed deeply to the morning parent, and withdrew from their hospitable guide. Another winding stair conducted them to an apartment of the same size with that which they had first entered, occupying indeed the story immediately above. From this room, ere yet the door was opened, proceeded a low and melancholy strain of vocal music.
When they entered, they found themselves in the presence of about twenty matrons and maidens of distinguished Saxon lineage. Four maidens, Rowena leading the choir, raised a hymn for the soul of the deceased, Of which we have only been able to decipher two or three stanzas. Dust into dust, to this all must, the tenet hath resigned, the faded form to waste and worm, corruption claims her kind. Through paths unknown thy soul hath flown to seek the realms of woe, where fiery pain shall purge the stain of actions done below. In that sad place, by Mary's grace, brief may thy dwelling be, Till prayers and alms and holy psalms shall set the captive free. While this dirge was sung in a low and melancholy tone by the female choristers, the others were divided into two bands, of which one was engaged in bedecking, with such embroidery as their skill and taste could compass, a large silken pall, destined to cover the bier of Appelstain, while the others busied themselves in selecting, from baskets of flowers placed before them, garlands which they intended for the same mournful purpose.
The behavior of the maidens was decorous, if not marked with deep affliction, but now and then a whisper or a smile called forth the rebuke of the severer matrons, and here and there might be seen a damsel more interested in endeavoring to find out how her mourning robe became her than in the dismal ceremony for which they were preparing. Neither was this propensity, if we must needs confess the truth, at all diminished by the appearance of two strange knights, which occasioned some looking up, peeping, and whispering. Rowena, alone, too proud to be vain, paid her greeting to her deliverer with a graceful courtesy. Her demeanour was serious, but not dejected, and it may be doubted whether thoughts of Ivanhoe, and of the uncertainty of his fate, did not claim as great a share in her gravity as the death of her kinsman.
To Cedric, however, who, as we have observed, was not remarkably clear-sighted on such occasions, The sorrow of his ward seemed so much deeper than any of the other maidens that he deemed it proper to whisper the explanation. She was the affianced bride of the noble Athelstain. It may be doubted whether this communication went a far way to increase Wilfred's disposition to sympathize with the mourners of Konigsberg. Having thus formally introduced the guests to the different chambers in which the Obesquies of Athelstain were celebrated under different forms, Cedric conducted them into a small room, destined, as he informed them, for the exclusive accommodation of honorable guests, whose more slight connection with the deceased might render them unwilling to join those who were immediately affected by the unhappy event.
He assured them of every accommodation, and was about to withdraw when the Black Knight took his hand. I crave to remind you, noble Thane, he said, that when we last parted, you promised, for the service I had the fortune to render you, to grant me a boon. It is granted air-named, noble knight, said Cedric, yet, at this sad moment... Of that also, said the king, I have bethought me, but my time is brief. Neither does it seem to me unfit, that, when closing the grave on the noble Athelstain, we should deposit therein certain prejudices and hasty opinions. Sir, knight of the fetter-locks, said Cedric, colouring, and interrupting the king in his turn, I trust your boon regards yourself and no other.
For in that which concerns the honor of my house, it is scarce fitting that a stranger should mingle. "'Nor do I wish to mingle,' said the king mildly, "'unless in so far as you will admit me to have an interest. As yet you have known me but as the Black Knight of the Federlock. Know me now as Richard Plantagenet.' "'Richard of Anjou!' exclaimed Cedric, stepping backward with the utmost astonishment. "'No, noble Cedric, Richard of England, whose deepest interest, whose deepest wish, is to see her sons united with each other. And how now, worthy Thane! Hast thou no need for thy prince? To Norman blood, said Cedric, it hath never bended. Reserve thine homage, then, said the monarch, until I shall prove my right to it by equal protection of Normans and English.
Prince, answered Cedric, I have ever done justice to thy bravery and thy worth, nor am I ignorant of thy claim to the crown through thy descendant from Matilda. niece to Edgar Atheling, and daughter to Malcolm of Scotland. But Matilda, though of the royal Saxon blood, was not the heir to the monarchy. "'I will not dispute my title with thee, noble thane,' said Richard calmly. "'But I will bid thee look around thee, and see where thou wilt find another to be put into the scale against it.' "'And hast thou wandered hither, Prince, to tell me so?' said Cedric. To upbraid me with the ruin of my race, ere the grave has closed over the last scion of Saxon royalty?" His countenance darkened as he spoke.
It was boldly, it was rashly done. "'Not so, by the holy rood,' replied the king. "'It was done in the frank confidence which one brave man may repose in another without a shadow of danger.' "'Thou sayest well, sir king, for king I own thou art, and wilt be, despite of my feeble opposition.' I dare not take the only mode to prevent it, though thou hast placed the strong temptation within my reach. And now to my boon, said the king, which I ask not with one jot the less confidence that thou hast refused to acknowledge my lawful sovereignty. I require of thee, as a man of thy word, on pain of being held faithless, manse-worn, and niddering, to forgive and receive to thy paternal affection the good knight, Wilford of Ivanhoe.
In this reconciliation thou wilt own I have an interest, the happiness of my friend, and the quelling of dissension among my faithful people. And this is Wilfred, said Cedric, pointing to his son. My father, my father, said Ivanhoe, prostrating himself at Cedric's feet, grant me thy forgiveness. Thou hast it, my son, said Cedric, raising him up. The son of Herward knows how to keep his word, even when it has been passed to a norman. But let me see thee use the dress and costume of thy English ancestry. No short cloaks, no gay bonnets, no fantastic plumage in my decent household. He that would be the son of Cedric must show himself of English ancestry. Thou art about to speak, he added sternly, and I guessed the topic.
The Lady Rowena must complete two years mourning as for a betrothed husband. All our Saxon ancestors would disown us were we to treat of a new union for her, Ere the grave of him whom she should have wedded, him, so much the most worthy of her hand, by birth and ancestry, is yet closed. The ghost of Athelstane himself would burst his bloody cerements, and stand before us to forbid such dishonour to his memory. It seemed as if Cedric's words had raised a sceptre, for, scarce had he uttered them ere the door flew open, and Athelstane, arrayed in the garments of the grave, stood before them, pale, haggard, and like something arisen from the dead. The effect of this apparition on the persons present was utterly appalling.
Cedric started back as far as the wall of the apartment would permit, and, leaning against it as one unable to support himself, gazed on the figure of his friend with eyes that seemed fixed, and a mouth which he appeared incapable of shutting. Ivanhoe crossed himself, repeating prayers in Saxon, Latin, or Norman French, as they occurred to his memory, while Richard alternately said Benedicte, and swore, Morte de ma vie. In the meantime, a horrible noise was heard below stairs, some crying, Secure the treacherous monks, others, Down with them into the dungeon, others, Pitch them from the highest battlements. In the name of God, said Cedric, addressing what seemed the spectre of his departed friend, if thou art mortal, speak.
If a departed spirit, say for what purpose thou dost revisit us, or if I can do aught that can set thy spirit at repose. Living or dead, noble Athelstane, speak to Cedric. I will, said the spectre, very composedly, when I have collected breath, and when you give me time. Alive, saidst thou? I am as much alive as he can be who has fed on bread and water for three days, which seem three ages. Yes, bread and water, Father Cedric. By heaven, and all saints in it, better food hath not passed my ways, and for three lifelong days, And by God's providence it is that I am now here to tell it. Why, noble Athelstain, said the Black Knight, I myself saw you struck down by the fierce Templar towards the end of the storm at Torkelstone, and as I thought, and Wamba reported, your skull was cloven through the teeth.
You thought amiss, Sir Knight, said Athelstain, and Wamba lied. My teeth are in good order, and that my supper shall presently find. No thanks to the Templar, though, whose sword turned in his hand, So that the blade struck me flatlings, being averted by the handle of the good mace with which I warded the blow. Had my steel cap been on, I had not valued it a rush, and had dealt him such a counter buff as would have spoilt his retreat. But as it was, down I went, stunned indeed, but unwounded. Others, of both sides, were beaten down and slaughtered above me, so that I never recovered my senses until I found myself in a coffin, an open one by good luck, placed before the altar of the church of St.
Edmund's. I sneezed repeatedly, groaned, awakened, and would have arisen, when the sacristan and abbot, full of terror, came running at the noise, surprised doubtless, and no way pleased to find the man alive, whose airs they had proposed themselves to be. I asked for wine. They gave me some, but it must have been highly medicated, for I slept yet more deeply than before, and awakened not for many hours. I found my arms swathed down, my feet tied so fast that mine ankles ache at the very remembrance. The place was utterly dark, the O'bliettes, I suppose, of their accursed convent, and from the close stifled damp smell, I conceive it is also used for a place of sepulture. I had strange thoughts of what had befallen me when the door of my dungeon creaked and two villain monks entered.
They would have persuaded me I was in purgatory, But I knew too well the percy short-breathed voice of the father abbot. St. Jeremy, how different from that tone with which he used to ask me for another slice of the haunch! The dog has feasted with me from Christmas to Twelfth Night. "'Have patience, noble Appelstain,' said the king. "'Take breath, tell your story at leisure. Beshrew me, but such a tale is as worth well listening to as a romance.' "'Aye, but, by the root of Bromaholm, There was no romance in the matter, said Appelstain. A barley loaf and a pitcher of water that they gave me, the niggardly traders, whom my father and I myself had enriched, when their best resources were the flitches of bacon and measures of corn, out of which they wheedled poor serfs and bondsmen in exchange for their prayers, the nest of foul, ungrateful vipers, barley bread and ditch water to such a patron as I had been.
I will smoke them out of their nest, though I be excommunicated. But in the name of our lady, noble Athelstain, said Cedric, grasping the hand of his friend, how didst thou escape this imminent danger? Did their hearts relent? Did their hearts relent? Echoed Athelstain. Do rocks melt with the sun? I should have been there still, had not some stir in the convent, which I find was their procession hitherward to eat my funeral feast, when they well knew how and where I had been buried alive, summoned the swarm out of their hive. I heard them droning out their death-salms, Little judging they were sung in respect for my soul by those who were thus famishing my body. They went, however, and I waited long for food.
No wonder, the Gaudi sacristan was even too busy with his own provender to mind mine. At length down he came, with an unstable step and a strong flavour of wine and spices about his person. Good cheer had opened his heart, for he left me a nook of pasty and a flask of wine instead of my former fare. I ate, drank, and was invigorated. When, to add to my good luck, the sacristan, too tauty to discharge his duty of turnkey fitly, locked the door beside the staple, so that it fell ajar. The light, the food, the wine, set my invention to work. The staple to which my chains were fixed was more rusted than I or the villain abbot had supposed. Even iron could not remain without consuming in the damps of that infernal dungeon.
Take breath, noble Athelstain, said Richard. and partake of some refreshment ere you proceed with a tale so dreadful. Partake, quoth Athelstane. I have been partaking five times to-day, and yet a morsel of that savory ham were not altogether foreign to the matter, and I pray you, fair sir, to do me reason in a cup of wine. The guests, though still agape with astonishment, pledged their resuscitated landlord, who thus proceeded in his story. He had indeed now many more auditors than those to whom it was commenced, For Edith, having given certain necessary orders for arranging matters within the castle, had followed the dead alive up to the stranger's apartment, attended by as many of the guests, male and female, as could squeeze into the small room, while others, crowding the staircase, caught up an erroneous edition of the story, and transmitted it still more inaccurately to those beneath, who again sent it forth to the vulgar without in a fashion totally irreconcilable to the real fact.
Athelstane, however, went on as follows with the history of his escape. Finding myself freed from the staple, I dragged myself upstairs as well as a man loaded with shackles and emaciated with fasting might, and after much groping about, I was at length directed, by the sound of a jolly roundelay, to the apartment where the worthy sacristan, an it so please ye, was holding a devil's mask with the huge beetle-browed, broad-shouldered brother of the grey frock and cowl, who looked much more like a thief than a clergyman. I bust in upon them, and the fashion of my grave-clothes, as well as the clanking of my chains, made me more resemble an inhabitant of the other world than of this. Both stood aghast, but when I knocked down the sacristan with my fist, the other fellow, his pot-companion, fetched a blow at me with a huge quarter-staff.
This must be our friar Tuck for a Count's ransom, said Richard, looking at Ivanhoe. He may be the devil, and he will, said Athelstane. Fortunately, he missed the aim, and on my approaching to grapple with him, took to his heels and ran for it. I failed not to set my own heels at liberty by means of the fetter key, which hung amongst others at the sexton's belt, and I had thoughts of beating out the knave's brains with a bunch of keys, but gratitude for the nook of pasty and the flask of wine which the rascal had imparted to my captivity came over my heart. So, with a brace of hearty kicks, I left him on the floor, pouched some baked meat, and a leathern bottle of wine, with which the two venerable brethren had been regaling, went to the stable, and found in a private stall mine own best palfrey, which, doubtless, had been set apart for the Holy Father Abbott's particular use.
Hither I came with all the speed the beast could compass, man and mother's son flying before me wherever I came, taking me for a spectre, the more especially as, to prevent my being recognized, I drew the corpse hood over my face. I had not gained admittance into my own castle, had I not been supposed to be the attendant of a juggler who is making the people in the castle-yard very merry, considering they are assembled to celebrate their lord's funeral. I say, the sueur thought I was dressed to bear a part in the tragetour's mummery, and so I got admission, and did but disclose myself to my mother and eat a hasty morsel, ere I came in quest of you, my noble friend. And you have found me, said Cedric, ready to resume our brave projects of honor and liberty.
I tell thee, never will dawn a morrow so auspicious as the next for the deliverance of the noble Saxon race. Talk not to me of delivering any one, said Athelstane. It is well I am delivered myself. I am more intent on punishing that villain abbot. He shall hang at the top of this castle of Puningsburg in his cope and stole. And if the stairs be too straight to admit his fat carcass, I will have him craned up from without. But, my son, said Edith, consider his sacred office. Consider my three days fast, replied Athelstane. I will have their blood, every one of them. Front de Bouffe was burned alive for a less matter, for he kept a good table for his prisoners, only put too much garlic in his last dish of pottage.
But these hypocritical, ungrateful slaves, so often the self-invited flatterers at my board, who gave me neither pottage nor garlic, more or less, they die by the soul of Hengist. But the Pope, my noble friend, said Cedric. But the devil, my noble friend, answered Athelstain, they die, and no more of them. Were they the best monks upon earth, the world would go on without them. For shame, noble Athelstain, said Cedric. Forget such wretches in the career of glory which lies open before thee. Tell this Norman prince, Richard of Anjou, that, lionhearted as he is, he shall not hold undisputed the throne of Alfred, while a male descendant of the holy confessor lives to dispute it. How, said Athelstane, is this the noble King Richard?
It is Richard Plantagenet himself, said Cedric. Yet I need not remind thee that, coming hither a guest of free will, He may neither be injured nor detained prisoner. Thou well knowest thy duty to him as his host. Ay, by my faith, said Athelstain, and my duty as a subject besides, for I here tender him my allegiance heart and hand. My son, said Edith, think on thy royal rights. Think on the freedom of England, degenerate prince, said Cedric. Mother and friend, said Athelstain, a truce to your upbraidings. Bread and water and a dungeon are marvelous mortifiers of ambition, and I rise from the tomb a wiser man than I descended into it. One half of those vain follies were puffed into mine ear by that perfidious abbot Wolfram, and you may now judge if he is a counselor to be trusted.
Since these plots were set in agitation, I have had nothing but hurried journeys, indigestions, blows and bruises, imprisonments and starvation. Besides that, they can only end in the murder of some thousands of quiet folk. I tell you, I will be king in my own domains and nowhere else, and my first act of dominion shall be to hang the abbot. And my ward Rowena, said Cedric, I trust you intend not to desert her? Father Cedric, said Athelstane, be reasonable. The lady Rowena cares not for me. She loves the little finger of my kinsman Wilfred's glove better than my whole person. There she stands to avouch it. Nay, blush not, kinswoman. There is no shame in loving a courtly knight better than a country franklin.
And do not laugh neither, Rowena, for grave clothes and a thin visage are, God knows, no matter of merriment. Nay, and thou wilt needs laugh. I will find thee a better jest. Give me thy hand, or rather lend it me, for I but ask it in the way of friendship. Here, cousin Wilfred of Ivanhoe, in thy favor I renounce and abjure. Hey, by St. Dunstan our cousin Wilfred hath vanished. Yet, unless my eyes are still dazzled with the fasting I have undergone, I saw him stand here but even now. All now looked around and inquired for Ivanhoe, but he had vanished. It was at length discovered that a Jew had been to seek him, and that, after very brief conference, he had called for Girth and his armor, and had left the castle.
Fair cousin, said Athelstane to Rowena, could I think that this sudden disappearance of Ivanhoe was occasioned by other than the weightiest reason? I would myself resume. But he had no sooner let go of her hand on first observing that Ivanhoe had disappeared, than Rowena, who had found her situation extremely embarrassing, had taken the first opportunity to escape from the apartment. Certainly, quoth Athelstane, women are the least to be trusted of all animals, monks and abbots excepted. I am an infidel, if I expected not thanks from her, and perhaps a kiss to boot. These cursed grave clothes have surely a spell on them. Every one flies from me. To you I turn, noble King Richard, with the vows of allegiance, which, as a liege subject...
But King Richard was gone also, and no one knew whither. At length it was learned that he had hastened to the courtyard, summoned to his presence the Jew who had spoken with Ivanhoe, and after a moment's speech with him had called vehemently to horse, thrown himself upon a steed, compelled the Jew to mount another, and set off at a rate which, according to Wamba, rendered the old jew's neck not worth a penny's purchase. By my halidome, said Athelstane, it is certain that Zernibach hath possessed himself of my castle in my absence. I return in my grave clothes, a pledge restored from the very sepulchre, and every one I speak to vanishes as soon as they hear my voice. But it skills not talking of it.
Come, my friends, such of you as are left, follow me to the banqueting-hall, lest any more of us disappear. It is, I trust, as yet tolerably furnished, as becomes the obesquise of an ancient Saxon noble, and should we tarry any longer, who knows, but the devil may fly off with the supper.
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Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom, that they may break his foaming cursor's back, and throw the rider headlong in the lists, a caitive recreant. Richard II. Our scene now returns to the exterior of the castle or preceptory of Templestowe, about the hour when the bloody die was to be cast for the life or death of Rebecca. It was a scene of bustle and life, as if the whole vicinity had poured forth its inhabitants to a village wake or a rural feast. But the earnest desire to look on blood and death is not peculiar to those dark ages, though in the gladiatorial exercise of single combat and general tourney, They were habituated to the bloody spectacle of brave men falling by each other's hands.
Even in our own days, when morals are better understood, an execution, a bruising match, a riot, or a meeting of radical reformers, collects, at considerable hazard to themselves, immense crowds of spectators, otherwise little interested, except to see how matters are to be conducted, or whether the heroes of the day are, in the heroic language of insurgent tailors, flints or dunghills. The eyes, therefore, of a very considerable multitude, were bent on the gate of the preceptory of Templestowe, with the purpose of witnessing the procession, while still greater numbers had already surrounded the tilt-yard belonging to that establishment. This enclosure was formed on a piece of level ground adjoining to the preceptory, which had been levelled with care for the exercise of military and chivalrous sports.
It occupied the brow of a soft and gentle eminence, was carefully palisaded around, and, as the Templars willingly invited spectators to be witnesses of their skill in feats of chivalry, was aptly supplied with galleries and benches for their use. On the present occasion, a throne was erected for the Grand Master at the East End, surrounded with seats of distinction for the preceptors and Knights of the Order. Over these floated the sacred standard, called Le Beaux Seantes, which was the ensign, as its name was the battle-cry, of the Templars. At the opposite end of the lists was a pile of faggots so arranged around a stake, deeply fixed in the ground, as to leave a space for the victim whom they were destined to consume to enter within the fatal circle, in order to be chained to the stake by the fetters which hung ready for that purpose.
Beside this deadly apparatus there stood four black slaves, whose color and African features, then so little known in England, appalled the multitude, who gazed on them as on demons employed about their own diabolical exercises. These men stirred not, excepting now and then, under the direction of one who seemed their chief, to shift and replace the ready fuel. They looked not on the multitude. In fact, they seemed insensible of their presence, and of everything save the discharge of their own horrible duty. And when, in speech with each other, they expanded their blubber lips, and showed their white fangs, as if they grinned at the thoughts of the expected tragedy, the startled commons could scarcely help believing that they were actually the familiar spirits with whom the witch had communed, and who, her time being out, stood ready to assist in her dreadful punishment.
They whispered to each other, and communicated all the feats which Satan had performed during that busy and unhappy period, not failing, of course, to give the devil rather more than his due. Have you not heard, Father Dennett? Quoth one boor to another advanced in years, that the devil has carried away bodily the great Saxon thane, Athelstane of Koningsburg? Aye, but he brought him back, though, by the blessing of God and St. Dunstan. How's that? asked a brisk young fellow, dressed in a green cassock embroidered with gold, and having at his heels a stout lad bearing a harp upon his back, which betrayed his vocation. The minstrel seemed of no vulgar rank, for, besides the splendor of his gaily-braidered doublet, He wore around his neck a silver chain, by which hung the rest, or key, with which he tuned his harp.
On his right arm was a silver plate, which, instead of bearing, as usual, the cognizance or badge of the baron to whose family he belonged, had barely the word Sherwood engraved upon it. "'How mean you by that?' said the gay minstrel, mingling in the conversation of the peasants. "'I came to seek one subject for my rhyme, and, by your lady, I were glad to find two.' It is well avouched, said the elder peasant, that after Athelstane of Konigsberg had been dead four weeks. That is impossible, said the minstrel. I saw him in life at the passage of arms at Ashby-de-la-Zouche. Dead, however he was, or else translated, said the younger peasant, for I heard the monks of St. Edmund's singing the Death's Hymn for him, and, moreover, there was a rich death-meal and dole at the castle of Konigsberg, as right was.
And thither had I gone but for Mabel Parkins, who—ay, dead was Athelstane, said the old man, shaking his head, and the more pity it was for the old Saxon blood—but your story, my masters, your story, said the minstrel, somewhat impatiently. Ay, ay, construe us the story, said a burly friar, who stood beside them, leaning on a pole that exhibited an appearance between a pilgrim's staff and a quarter-staff, and probably acted as either when occasion served. Your story," said the stalwart churchman. "'Burn not daylight about it. We have short time to spare.' "'And please your reverence,' said Dennett. A drunken priest came to visit the sacristan at St. Edmund's. "'It does not please my reverence,' answered the churchman, "'that there should be such an animal as a drunken priest, or, if there were, that a layman should so speak him.
Be mannerly, my friend, and conclude the holy man only wrapped in meditation, which makes the head dizzy and foot unsteady, as if the stomach were filled with new wine. I have felt it myself. Well, then, answered Father Dennett, a holy brother came to visit the sacristan at St. Edmund's. A sort of hedge-priest is the visitor, and kills half the deer that are stolen in the forest, who loves the tinkling of a pine-pot better than the saccharing-bell, and deems a flitch of bacon worth ten of his breviary. For the rest, a good fellow and a mary, who will flourish a quarter-staff, draw a bow, and dance a cheshire round, with Ariman in Yorkshire. "'That last part of thy speech, Dennett,' said the minstrel, "'has saved thee a rib or twain.' "'Tush, man, I fear him not,' said Dennett.
"'I am somewhat old and stiff, but when I fought for the bell and ram at Dunkaster—' "'But the story, the story, my friend,' again said the minstrel. "'Why, the tale is but this. Athelstain of Konigsberg was buried at St. Edmund's.' "'That's a lie, and a loud one,' said the friar. For I saw him borne to his own castle of Konigsberg. "'Nay, then, e'en tell the story yourself, my masters,' said Dennett, turning sulky at these repeated contradictions. And it was with some difficulty that the Boer could be prevailed on, by the request of his comrade and the minstrel, to renew his tale. "'These two sober friars,' said he at length, since this reverend man will needs have them such, had continued drinking good ale and wine and what not, for the best part of a summer's day, When they were aroused by a deep groan and a clanking of chains, and the figure of the deceased Athelstane entered the apartment, saying, "'Ye evil shepherds!' It is false," said the Friar hastily.
He never spoke a word. "'So ho, Friar Tuck,' said the minstrel, drawing him apart from the rustics. "'We have started a new hair, I find.' "'I tell thee, Alan Adale,' said the hermit, "'I saw Athelstane of Koningsburg as much as bodily eyes ever saw a living man.' He had his shroud on, and all about him smelt of the sepulchre. A bud of sack will not wash it out of my memory. "'Pshaw!' answered the minstrel. "'Thou dost but jest with me.' "'Never believe me,' said the friar, and I fetched not a knock at him with my quarterstaff that would have felled an ox, and it glided through his body as it might through a pillar of smoke. "'By St. Hubert,' said the minstrel, "'it is but a wondrous tale, and fit to be put in metre to the ancient tune, Sorrow came to the old friar.
Laugh if ye list, said Friar Tuck, but an ye catch me singing on such a theme, may the next ghost or devil carry me off with him headlong. No, no, I instantly formed the purpose of assisting at some good work, such as the burning of a witch, a judicial combat, or the like matter of godly service, and therefore am I here. As they thus conversed, the heavy bell of the church of St. Michael of Templestowe, a venerable building, situated in a hamlet at some distance from the preceptory, broke short their argument. One by one the sullen sounds fell successively on the ear, leaving but sufficient space for each to die away in distant echo, ere the air was again filled by repetition of the iron knell.
These sounds, the signal of the approaching ceremony, chilled with awe the hearts of the assembled multitude, whose eyes were now turned to the preceptory, expecting the approach of the grand master, the champion, and the criminal. At length the drawbridge fell, the gates opened, and a knight bearing the great standard of the order sallied from the castle, preceded by six trumpets, and followed by the knight's preceptors, two and two, the grand master coming last, mounted on a stately horse, whose furniture was of the simplest kind. Behind him came Brian de Bois-Gilbert, armed Cappapie, in bright armor, but without his lance, shield, and sword, which were borne by his two esquires behind him.
His face, though partly hidden by a long plume which floated down from his barrel-cap, bore a strong and mingled expression of passion in which pride seemed to contend with irresolution. He looked ghastly pale, as if he had not slept for several nights, yet reined his pawing war-horse with the habitual ease and grace proper to the best lance of the order of the temple. His general appearance was grand and commanding, but looking at him with attention, men read that in his dark features, from which they willingly withdrew their eyes. On either side rode Conrad de Montvichet and Albert de Melvoisin, who acted as godfathers to the champion. They were in their robes of peace, the white dress of the Order.
Behind them followed other companions of the temple, with a long train of esquires and pages clad in black, aspirants to the honor of being one day Knights of the Order. After these neophytes came a guard of warders on foot, in the same stable livery, amidst whose partisans might be seen the pale form of the accused moving with a slow but undismayed step towards the scene of her fate. She was stripped of all her ornaments, lest perchance there should be among them some of those amulets which Satan was supposed to bestow upon his victims, to deprive them of the power of confession even when under the torture. A coarse white dress of the simplest form had been substituted for her oriental garments, Yet there was such an exquisite mixture of courage and resignation in her look, that even in this garb, and with no other ornament than her long black tresses, each eye wept that looked upon her, and the most hardened bigot regretted the fate that had converted a creature so goodly into a vessel of wrath, and a waged slave of the devil.
A crowd of inferior personages belonging to the preceptory followed the victim, all moving with the utmost order, with arms folded, and looks bent upon the ground. This slow procession moved up the gentle eminence, on the summit of which was the Tilt-yard, and, entering the lists, marched once around them from right to left, and when they had completed the circle made a halt. There was then a momentary bustle, while the grandmaster and all his attendants, excepting the champion and his godfathers, dismounted from their horses, which were immediately removed out of the lists by the esquires who were in attendance for that purpose. The unfortunate Rebecca was conducted to the black chair placed near the pile.
On her first glance at the terrible spot where preparations were making for a death alike dismaying to the mind and painful to the body, she was observed to shudder and shut her eyes, praying internally doubtless, for her lips moved though no speech was heard. In the space of a minute she opened her eyes, looked fixedly on the pile as if to familiarize her mind with the object, and then slowly and naturally turned away her head. Meanwhile, the Grand Master had assumed his seat, and when the chivalry of his order was placed around and behind him, each in his due rank, a loud and long flourish of the trumpets announced that the court were seated for judgment. Malvoisin, then, acting as godfather of the champion, stepped forward, and laid the glove of the Jewess, which was the pledge of battle, at the feet of the grand master.
Ballorous lord and reverend father, said he, here standeth the good knight, Brian de Bois-Gilbert, knight-preceptor of the order of the temple, who, by accepting the pledge of battle which I now lay at your reverence's feet, hath become bound to do his devoir in combat this day, to maintain that this Jewish maiden, by name Rebekah, hath justly deserved the doom passed upon her in a chapter of this most holy order of the temple of Zion, condemning her to die as a sorceress. Here, I say, he standeth, such battle to do, knightly and honorable, if such be your noble and sanctified pleasure. Hath he made oath, said the grand master, that his quarrel is just and honorable? Bring forward the crucifix and the teigetur.
Sir, and most reverend father, answered Melvoisin readily, our brother here present hath already sworn to the truth of his accusation in the hand of the good knight, Conrad de Montfichet. and otherwise he ought not to be sworn, seeing that his adversary is an unbeliever, and may take no oath. This explanation was satisfactory to Albert's great joy, for the wily knight had foreseen the great difficulty, or rather impossibility, of prevailing upon Brian de Bois-Gilbert to take such an oath before the assembly, and had invented this excuse to escape the necessity of his doing so. The grand master, having allowed the apology of Albert Melvoisin, commanded the herald to send forth and do his devoir.
The trumpets again flourished, and a herald, stepping forward, proclaimed aloud, Oyez, Oyez, Oyez, Oyez, Oyez, here standeth the good knight, Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert, ready to do battle with any knight of free blood, who will sustain the quarrel allowed and allotted to the Jewish Rebecca to try by champion, in respect of lawful a soin of her own body. And to such champion the reverend and valorous grand master here present allows a fair field, and equal partition of sun and wind, and whatever else appertains to a fair combat. The trumpets again sounded, and there was a dead pause of many minutes. No champion appears for the appellant, said the grand master. Go, Harold, and ask her whether she expects anyone to do battle for her, in this her cause.
The Harold went to the chair in which Rebecca was seated. and Bois-Gilbert suddenly turning his horse's head toward that end of the lists, in spite of hints on either side from Malvoisin and Montfichet, was by the side of Rebecca's chair as soon as the herald. Is this regular and according to the law of combat? said Malvoisin, looking to the Grand Master. Albert de Malvoisin, it is, answered Beaumanoir. For in this appeal to the judgment of God, we may not prohibit parties from having that communication with each other, which may best tend to bring forth the truth of the quarrel. In the meantime, the herald spoke to Rebekah in these terms. Damsel, the Honorable and Reverend the Grand Master demands of thee, if thou art prepared with a champion to do battle this day in thy behalf, or if thou dost yield thee, as one justly condemned, to a deserved doom.
Say to the Grand Master, replied Rebekah, that I maintain my innocence, and do not yield me as justly condemned, Lest I become guilty of mine own blood, say to him that I challenge such delay as his forms will permit, to see if God, whose opportunity is in man's extremity, will raise me up a deliverer, and when such uttermost space is past, may his holy will be done. The herald retired to carry this answer to the grand master. God forbid, said Lucas Beaumenoir, that Jew or pagan should impeach us of justice, until the shadows be cast from the west to the eastward, Will we wait to see if a champion shall appear for this unfortunate woman? When the day is so far past, let her prepare for death.
The herald communicated the words of the grand master to Rebecca, who bowed her head submissively, folded her arms, and, looking up towards heaven, seemed to expect that aid from above which she could scarce promise herself from man. During this awful pause, the voice of Bois-Gilbert broke upon her ear. It was but a whisper, yet it startled her more than the summons of the herald had appeared to do. "'Rebecca,' said the Templar, "'dost thou hear me?' "'I have no portion in thee, cruel, hard-hearted man,' said the unfortunate maiden. "'Aye, but dost thou understand my words?' said the Templar, "'for the sound of my voice is frightful in mine own ears. I scarce know on what ground we stand, or for what purpose they have brought us hither.
This listed space, that chair, these faggots, I know their purpose, and yet it seems to me like something unreal, the fearful picture of a vision which appals my sense with hideous fantasies, but convinces not my reason. My mind and senses keep touch in time, answered Rebekah, and tell me alike that these faggots are destined to consume my earthly body and open a painful but a brief passage to a better world. Dreams, Rebekah, dreams, answered the Templar. Idle visions, rejected by the wisdom of your own wiser Sadducees. Hear me, Rebekah, he said, proceeding with animation. A better chance hast thou for life in liberty than yonder knaves and daughter dream of. Mount thee behind me on my steed, on Zamor, the gallant horse that never failed his rider.
I won him in single fight from the Soldan of Trebizond. Mount, I say, behind me. In one short hour is pursuit and inquiry far behind. A new world of pleasure opens to thee. To me, a new career of fame. Let them speak the doom which I despise, and erase the name of Fr. Gilbert from their list of monastic slaves. I will wash out with blood whatever blot they may dare to cast on my scutcheon. Tempter, said Rebekah, Begone! Not in this last extremity canst thou move me one hair's-breadth from my resting-place. Surrounded as I am by foes, I hold thee as my worst and most deadly enemy. Avoid thee in the name of God. Albert Malvoisin, alarmed and impatient at the duration of their conference, now advanced to interrupt it.
Hath the maiden acknowledged her guilt, he demanded of Bois-Gilbert, or is she resolute in her denial? She is indeed resolute, said Bois-Gilbert. Then, said Malvoisin, must thou, noble brother, resume thy place to attend the issue. The shades are changing on the circle of the dial. Come, brave Bois-Gilbert, come, thou hope of our holy order. and soon to be its head. As he spoke in this soothing tone, he laid his hand on the knight's bridle, as if to lead him back to his station. "'False villain! What meanest thou by thy hand on my rein?' said Sir Brian angrily, and shaking off his companion's grasp, he rode back to the upper end of the lists. "'There is yet spirit in him,' said Malvoisin, apart to Montfichet.
"'Were it well directed, but, like the Greek fire, it burns whatever approaches it.' The judges had now been two hours in the lists awaiting in vain the appearance of a champion. And reason good, said Friar Tuck, seeing she is a Jewess, and yet, by mine order, it is hard that so young and beautiful a creature should perish without one blow being struck on her behalf. Were she ten times a witch, provided she were but the least bit of a Christian, my quarterstaff should ring noon on the steel cap of yonder fierce Templar, ere he carried the matter off thus. It was, however, the general belief that no one could or would appear for a Jewess accused of sorcery, and the knights, instigated by Melvoisin, whispered to each other that it was time to declare the pledge of Rebecca forfeited.
At this point a knight, urging his horse to speed, appeared on the plain advancing towards the lists. A hundred voices exclaimed, A champion! A champion! And despite the prepossessions and prejudices of the multitude, They shouted unanimously as the knight rode into the tilt-yard. The second glance, however, served to destroy the hope that his timely arrival had excited. His horse, urged for so many miles to its utmost speed, appeared to reel from fatigue, and the rider, however undauntedly he presented himself in the lists, either from weakness, weariness, or both, seemed scarce able to support himself in the saddle. To the summons of the herald, who demanded his rank, his name, and purpose, The stranger knight answered readily and boldly, "'I am a good knight and noble, come hither to sustain with lance and sword the just and lawful quarrel of this damsel, Rebekah, daughter of Isaac of York, to uphold the doom pronounced against her to be false and truthless, and to defy Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert as a traitor, murderer, and liar, as I will prove in this field with my body against his, by the aid of God, of Our Lady, and of Monsignor St.
George, the good knight.' The stranger must first show, said Malvoisin, that he is good knight and of honorable lineage. The temple sendeth not forth her champions against nameless men. My name, said the knight, raising his helmet, is better known, my lineage more pure, Malvoisin, than thine own. I am Wilfred of Ivanhoe. I will not fight with thee at present, said the Templar, in a changed and hollow voice. Get thy wounds healed, purvey thee a better horse. And it may be I will hold it worth my while to scourge out of thee this boyish spirit of bravado. Ha! proud Templar! said Ivanhoe! Hast thou forgotten that twice didst thou fall before this lance? Remember the lists at Acre, remember the passage of arms at Ashby, remember thy proud vaunt in the hills of Rotherwood, and the gauge of your gold chain against my reliquary, that thou wouldst do battle with Wilford of Ivanhoe, and recover the honor thou hadst lost.
By that reliquary and the holy relic it contains, I will proclaim thee, Templer, a coward in every court in Europe, in every perceptory of thine order, unless thou do battle without farther delay. Bois-gilbert turned his countenance irresolutely towards Rebeca, and then exclaimed, looking fiercely at Ivanhoe, Dog of a Saxon, take thy lance, and prepare for the death thou hast drawn upon thee. Does the grand master allow me the combat? said Ivanhoe. I may not deny what thou hast challenged, said the Grand Master, provided the maiden accepts thee as her champion. Yet I would thou wert in better plight to do battle. An enemy of our order hast thou ever been, yet would I have thee honorably met with.
Thus, thus as I am, and not otherwise, said Ivanhoe, it is the judgment of God, to his keeping I commend myself. Rebekah, said he, riding up to the fatal chair, dost thou accept of me for thy champion? "'I do,' she said, "'I do,' fluttered by an emotion which the fear of death had been unable to produce, "'I do accept thee as the champion whom heaven hath sent me. Yet—no, no, thy wounds are uncured. Meet not that proud man. Why shouldst thou perish also?' But Ivanhoe was already at his post, and had closed his visor and assumed his lance. While Gilbert did the same, and his esquire remarked, as he clasped his visor, that his face, which had, notwithstanding the variety of emotions by which he had been agitated, continued during the whole morning, of an ashly paleness, was now become suddenly very much flushed.
The herald, then, seeing each champion in his place, uplifted his voice, repeating thrice, «Faites vos devoirs, prus chevaliers!» After the third cry, he withdrew to one side of the lists, and again proclaimed, that none, on peril of instant death, should dare, by word, cry, or action, to interfere with or disturb this fair field of combat. The grand master, who held in his hand the gauge of battle, Rebecca's glove, now threw it to the lists, and pronounced the fatal signal words, Lausse, Allais. The trumpets sounded, and the knights charged each other in full career. The wearied horse of Ivanhoe, and its no less exhausted rider, went down, as all expected, Before the well-aimed lance and vigorous steed of the Templar.
This issue of the combat all had foreseen. But, although the spear of Ivanhoe did but, in comparison, touch the shield of Bois-Gilbert, that champion, to the astonishment of all who beheld it, reeled in his saddle, lost his stirrups, and fell in the lists. Ivanhoe, extricating himself from his fallen horse, was soon on foot, hastening to mend his fortune with his sword. But his antagonist arose not. Wilfred, placing his foot on his breast, and the sword's point to his throat, commanded him to yield him, or die on the spot. Bois-Gilbert returned no answer. "'Slay him not, sir knight,' cried the Grand Master. "'Unshriven and unabsolved, kill not body and soul. We allow him vanquished.' He descended into the lists, and commanded them to unhelm the conquered champion.
His eyes were closed. The dark red flush was still on his brow. As they looked on him in astonishment, the eyes opened, but they were fixed and glazed. The flush passed from his brow, and gave way to the pallid hue of death. Unscathed by the lance of his enemy, he had died a victim to the violence of his own contending passions. This is indeed the judgment of God, said the Grand Master, looking upwards. Fiat Voluntas Tua.
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So, now tis ended, like an old wife's story. Webster. When the first moments of surprise were over, Wilford of Ivanhoe demanded of the Grand Master, as judge of the field, if he had manfully and rightfully done his duty in the combat. Manfully and rightfully hath it been done, said the Grand Master. I pronounce the maiden free and guiltless. The arms and the body of the deceased knight are at the will of the victor. I will not despoil him of his weapons, said the knight of Ivanhoe, nor condemn his corpse to shame. He hath fought for Christendom. God's arm, no human hand, hath this day struck him down. But let his obesquies be private, as becomes those of a man who died in an unjust quarrel. And for the maiden, he was interrupted by a clattering of horses'feet, advancing in such numbers, and so rapidly as to shake the ground before them.
And the black knight galloped into the lists. He was followed by a numerous band of men-at-arms, and several knights in complete armor. "'I am too late,' he said, looking around him. "'I had doomed Bois-Gilbert for mine own property.' Ivanhoe, was this well, to take on thee such a venture, and thou scarce able to keep thy saddle? Heaven, my liege, answered Ivanhoe, hath taken this proud man for its victim. He was not to be honored in dying as your will had designed. Peace be with him, said Richard, looking steadfastly on the corpse. If it may be so, he was a gallant knight, and has died in his steel harness full nightly. But we must waste no time. Bohun, do thine office. A knight stepped forward from the king's attendance, and, laying his hand on the shoulder of Albert de Malvoisin, said, "'I arrest thee of high treason.' The Grand Master had hitherto stood astonished at the appearance of so many warriors.
He now spoke. "'Who dares to arrest a knight of the temple of Zion within the girth of his own preceptory, and in the presence of the Grand Master? And by whose authority is this bold outrage offered?' "'I make the arrest,' replied the knight. I, Henry Bohun, Earl of Essex, Lord High Constable of England. And he arrests Malvoysin, said the king, raising his visor, by the order of Richard Plantagenet, here present. Conrad Montfichet, it is well for thee thou art born no subject of mine. But for thee, Malvoysin, thou diest with thy brother Philip, ere the world be a week older. I will resist thy doom, said the Grand Master. Proud Templar, said the king, thou canst not. Look up, and behold the royal standard of England floats over thy towers instead of thy temple banner.
Be wise, beaumanoir, and make no bootless opposition. Thy hand is in the lion's mouth. I will appeal to Rome against thee, said the Grand Master, for usurpation on the immunities and privileges of our order. Be it so, said the king, but for thine own sake tax me not with usurpation now. Dissolve thy chapter, and depart with thy followers to thy next preceptory, if thou canst find one, which has not been made the scene of treasonable conspiracy against the king of England, or, if thou wilt, remain to share our hospitality and behold our justice. To be a guest in the house where I should command, said the Templer, never, chaplains, raise the psalm, quare fremwarent gentis. Knights, squires, and followers of the Holy Temple, prepared to follow the banner of Beauseant.
The Grand Master spoke with a dignity which confronted even that of England's King himself, and inspired courage into his surprised and dismayed followers. They gathered around him, like the sheep around a watchdog, when they hear the baying of the wolf. But they evinced not the timidity of the scared flock. There were dark brows of defiance, and looks which menaced the hostility they dared not to proffer in words. They drew together in a dark line of spears, from which the white cloaks of the knights were visible among the dusky garments of their retainers, like the lighter-colored edges of a sable cloud. The multitude, who had raised a clamorous shout of reprobation, paused and gazed in silence on the formidable and experienced body to which they had unwaringly bade defiance, and shrunk back from their front.
The Earl of Essex, when he beheld them pause in their assembled force, dashed the rowels into his charger's sides, and galloped backwards and forwards to array his followers in opposition to a band so formidable. Richard alone, as if he loved the danger his presence had provoked, rode slowly along the front of the Templars, calling aloud, What, sirs, among so many gallant knights, will none dare splinter a spear with Richard? Sirs of the Temple, your ladies are but sunburned if they are not worth the shiver of a broken lance? The brethren of the temple, said the grand master, riding forward in advance of their body, fight not on such idle and profane quarrel, and not with thee, Richard of England, shall a Templar cross lance in my presence.
The Pope and princes of Europe shall judge our quarrel, and whether a Christian prince has done well in bucklering the cause which thou hast to-day adopted. If unassailed, we depart assailing no one. To thine honor we refer the armor and household goods of the order which we leave behind us, And on thy conscience we lay the scandal and offence thou hast this day given to Christendom. With these words, and without waiting a reply, the Grand Master gave the signal of departure. Their trumpets sounded a wild march of an oriental character, which formed the usual signal for the Templars to advance. They changed their array from a line to a column of march, and moved off as slowly as their horses could step, as if to show it was only the will of their grand master, and no fear of the opposing and superior force, which compelled them to withdraw.
By the splendor of our lady's brow, said King Richard, it is pity of their lives that these Templars are not so trusty as they are disciplined and valiant. The multitude, like a timid cur which waits to bark till the object of its challenge has turned his back, raised a feeble shout as the rear of the squadron left the ground. During the tumult which attended the retreat of the Templars, Rebekah saw and heard nothing. She was locked in the arms of her aged father, giddy and almost senseless, with the rapid change of circumstances around her. But one word from Isaac at length recalled her scattered feelings. "'Let us go,' he said, "'my dear daughter, my recovered treasure. Let us go to throw ourselves at the feet of the good youth.' "'Not so,' said Rebekah.
O, no, no, no! I must not at this moment dare to speak to him. Alas! I should say more than—no, my father, let us instantly leave this evil place. But my daughter, said Isaac, to leave him who hath come forth like a strong man with his spear and shield, holding his life as nothing, so he might redeem thy captivity, and thou, too, the daughter of a people strange unto him and his, this is service to be thankfully acknowledged. It is, it is, most thankfully, most devoutly acknowledged, said Rebekah. It will be still more so, but not now. For the sake of thy beloved Rachel, father, grant my request, not now. Nay, but, said Isaac, insisting, they will deem us more thankless than mere dogs. But thou seest, my dear father, that King Richard is in presence, and that— True, my best, my wisest Rebekah.
Let us hence, let us hence. Money he will lack, For he has just returned from Palestine, and, as they say, from prison, and pretext for exacting it, should he need any, may arise out of my simple traffic with his brother John. Away, away, let us hence. And hurrying his daughter in his turn, he conducted her from the lists, and by means of conveyance which he had provided, transported her safely to the house of the rabbi Nathan. The Jewess, whose fortunes had formed the principal interest of the day, having now retired unobserved, The attention of the populace was transferred to the Black Knight. They now filled the air with, Long life to Richard of the Lion Heart, and down with the usurping Templars.
Notwithstanding all this lip-loyalty, said Ivanhoe to the Earl of Essex, it was well the king took the precaution to bring thee with him, noble Earl, and so many of thy trusty followers. The Earl smiled and shook his head. Gallant Ivanhoe, said Essex, Dost thou know our master so well, and yet suspect him of taking so wise a precaution? I was drawing towards York, having heard that Prince John was making head there, when I met King Richard, like a true knight-errant, galloping hither to achieve in his own person this adventure of the Templar and the Jewess, with his own single arm. I accompanied him with my band, almost maugre his consent. And what news from York, brave Earl? said Ivanhoe. Will the rebels bide us there?
No more than December's snow will bide July's sun, said the Earl. They are dispersing, and who should come posting to bring us the news but John himself? The traitor, the ungrateful, insolent traitor, said Ivanhoe. Did not Richard order him into confinement? Oh, he received him, answered the Earl, as if they had met after a hunting-party, and, pointing to me and our men-at-arms, said, Thou seest, brother, I have some angry men with me. Thou wert best to go to our mother, Carry her my duteous affection, and abide with her until men's minds are pacified." And this was all he said? inquired Ivanhoe. Would not any one say that this prince invites men to treason by his clemency? Just, replied the earl, as the man may be said to invite death, who undertakes to fight a combat, having a dangerous wound unhealed.
I forgive thee the jest, Lord Earl, said Ivanhoe, but remember I hazarded but my own life. Richard, the welfare of his kingdom. Those, replied Essex, who are especially careless of their own welfare are seldom remarkably attentive to that of others. But let us haste to the castle, for Richard meditates punishing some of the subordinate members of the conspiracy, though he has pardoned their principle. From the judicial investigations which followed on this occasion, and which are given at length in the Wardour manuscript, it appears that Maurice de Bracy escaped beyond seas, and went into the service of Philip of France, while Philip de Malvoisin and his brother Albert, the preceptor of Templestowe, were executed, although Waldemar Fitzhurst, the soul of the conspiracy, escaped with banishment, and Prince John, for whose behoof it was undertaken, was not even censured by his good-natured brother.
No one, however, pitied the fate of the two Malvoisins, who only suffered the death which they both well deserved by many acts of falsehood, cruelty, and oppression. Briefly after the judicial combat, Cedric the Saxon was summoned to the court of Richard, which, for the purpose of quieting the counties that had been disturbed by the ambition of his brother, was then held at York. Cedric tushed and pshawed more than once at the message, but he refused not obedience. In fact, the return of Richard had quenched every hope that he had entertained of restoring a Saxon dynasty in England, For, whatever head the Saxons might have made in the event of a civil war, it was plain that nothing could be done under the undisputed dominion of Richard, popular as he was by the personal good qualities and military fame, although his administration was willfully careless, now too indulgent, and now allied to despotism.
But, moreover, it could not escape even Cedric's reluctant observation that his project for an absolute union among the Saxons by the marriage of Rowena and Athelstain was now completely at an end by the mutual dissent of both parties concerned. This was, indeed, an event which, in his ardour for the Saxon cause, he could not have anticipated, and even when the disinclination of both was broadly and plainly manifested, he could scarce bring himself to believe that two Saxons of royal descent should scruple on personal grounds at an alliance so necessary to the public weal of the nation. But it was not the less certain. Rowena had always expressed her repugnance to athelstain, and now athelstain was no less plain and positive in proclaiming his resolution never to pursue his addresses to the lady Rowena.
Even the natural obstinacy of Cedric sunk beneath these obstacles, where he, remaining on the point of junction, had the task of dragging a reluctant pair up to it, one with each hand. He made, however, a last vigorous attack on athelstain, And he found that resuscitated sprout of Saxon royalty engaged, like country squires of our own day, in a furious war with the clergy. It seems that, after all his deadly menaces against the abbot of St. Edmunds, Athelstane's spirit of revenge, what between the natural indolent kindness of his own disposition, what through the prayers of his mother, Edith, attached, like most ladies of the period, to the clerical order, had terminated in his keeping the abbot and his monks in the dungeons of Konigsberg for three days on a meagre diet.
For this atrocity the abbot menaced him with excommunication, and made out a dreadful list of complaints in the bowels and stomach suffered by himself and his monks in consequence of the tyrannical and unjust imprisonment they had sustained. With this controversy, and with the means he had adopted to counteract this clerical persecution, Cedric found the mind of his friend athelstain so fully occupied that it had no room for another idea. And when Rowena's name was mentioned, the noble athelstain prayed leave to quaff a full goblet to her health, and that she might soon be the bride of his kinsman, Wilfred. It was a desperate case, therefore. There was obviously no more to be made of athelstain, or, as Wamba expressed it in a phrase which has descended from Saxon times to ours, he was a cock that would not fight.
There remained, betwixt Cedric and the determination which the lovers desired to come to, only two obstacles, his own obstinacy and his dislike of the Norman dynasty. The former feeling gradually gave way before the endearments of his ward, and the pride which he could not help nourishing in the fame of his son. Besides, he was not insensible to the honor of allying his own line to that of Alfred, when the superior claims of the descendant of Edward the confessor were abandoned forever. Cedric's aversion to the Norman race of kings was also much undermined, first by the consideration of the impossibility of ridding England of the new dynasty, a feeling which goes far to create loyalty in the subject of the king de facto, and, secondly, by the personal attention of King Richard, who delighted in the blunt humor of Cedric, and, to use the language of the Wardour manuscript, so dealt with the noble Saxon that, ere he had been a guest at court for seven days, he had given his consent to the marriage of his ward Rowena and his son Wilfred of Ivanhoe.
The nuptials of our hero, thus formally approved by his father, were celebrated in the most august of temples, the noble minister of York. The king himself attended, and from the countenance which he afforded on this and other occasions to the distressed and hitherto degraded Saxons, gave them a safer and more certain prospect of attaining their just rights than they could reasonably hope from the precarious chance of a civil war. The church gave her full solemnities, graced with all the splendor which she of Rome knows how to apply with such brilliant effect. Girth, gallantly apparelled, attended as esquire upon his young master, whom he had served so faithfully, and the magnanimous Wamba, decorated with a new cap and a most gorgeous set of silver bells.
Sharers of Wilfred's dangers and adversity, They remained, as they had a right to expect, the partakers of his more prosperous career. But besides this domestic retinue, these distinguished nuptials were celebrated by the attendance of the high-born Normans as well as Saxons, joined with the universal jubilee of the lower orders, that marked the marriage of two individuals as a pledge of the future peace and harmony between two races, which, since that period, have been so completely mingled that the distinction has become wholly invisible. Cedric lived to see this union approximate towards its completion, for as the two nations mixed in society and formed intermarriages with each other, the Normans abated their scorn, and the Saxons were refined from their rusticity.
But it was not until the reign of Edward, the third, that the mixed language, now termed English, was spoken at the court of London, and that the hostile distinction of Norman and Saxon seems entirely to have disappeared. It was upon the second morning after this happy bridal that the lady Rowena was made acquainted by her handmaid Elgatha, that a damsel desired admission to her presence, and solicited that their parley might be without witness. Rowena wondered, hesitated, became curious, and ended by commanding the damsel to be admitted, and her attendants to withdraw. She entered, a noble and commanding figure, the long white veil in which she was shrouded, overshadowing rather than concealing the elegance and majesty of her shape.
Her demeanor was that of respect, unmingled by the least shade either of fear or of a wish to propitiate favor. Rowena was ever ready to acknowledge the claims and attend to the feelings of others. She arose and would have conducted her lovely visitor to a seat, For the stranger looked at Elgatha, and again intimated a wish to discourse with the lady Rowena alone. Elgatha had no sooner retired with unwilling steps than, to the surprise of the lady of Ivanhoe, her fair visitant, kneeled on one knee, pressed her hands to her forehead, and bending her head to the ground, in spite of Rowena's resistance, kissed the embroidered hem of her tunic. "'What means this, lady?' said the surprised bride. Or why do you offer me a deference so unusual?
Because of you, lady of Ivanhoe, said Rebekah, rising up and resuming the usual quiet dignity of her manner, I may lawfully and without rebuke pay the debt of gratitude which I owe to Wilford of Ivanhoe. I am, forgive the boldness which has offered to you the homage of my country, I am the unhappy Jewess for whom your husband hazarded his life against such fearful odds in the tilt-yard of Templestowe. Damsel, said Rowena, Wilfred of Ivanhoe on that day rendered back but in slight measure your unceasing charity towards him in his wounds and misfortunes. Speak, is there aught remains in which he or I can serve thee? Nothing, said Rebecca calmly, unless you will transmit to him my grateful farewell.
You leave England, then, said Rowena, scarce recovering the surprise of this extraordinary visit. I leave it, lady, ere this moon again changes. My father had a brother high in favor with Mohamed Boabdil, king of Granada. Thither we go, secure of peace and protection, for the payment of which ransom as the moslem exact from our people. And are you not then as well protected in England? said Rowena. My husband has favor with the king. The king himself is just and generous. Lady, said Rebekah, I doubt it not, but the people of England are a fierce race, quarreling ever with their neighbors or among themselves, and ready to plunge the sword into the bowels of each other. Such is no safe abode for the children of my people.
Ephraim is an heartless dove, Issachar an overlaboured drudge, which stoops between two burdens. Not in a land of war and blood, surrounded by hostile neighbours and distracted by internal factions, can Israel hope to rest during her wanderings. But you, maiden, said Rowena, you surely can have nothing to fear. She who nursed the sick-bed of Ivanhoe, she continued, rising with enthusiasm, she can have nothing to fear in England, where Saxon and Norman will contend who shall most do her honor. Thy speech is fair, lady, said Rebekah, and thy purpose fairer. But it may not be. There is a gulf betwixt us. Our breeding, our faith, alike forbid either to pass over it. Farewell. Yet, ere I go, do indulge me one request.
The bridal veil hangs over thy face. deign to raise it, and let me see the features of which fame speaks so highly. They are scarce worthy of being looked upon, said Rowena, but expecting the same from my visitant, I remove the veil. She took it off accordingly, and partly from the consciousness of beauty, partly from bashfulness, she blushed so intensely that cheek, brow, neck, and bosom were suffused with crimson. Rebekah blushed also, but it was a momentary feeling, and, mastered by higher emotions, passed slowly from her features like a crimson cloud, which changes color when the sun sinks beneath the horizon. Lady, she said, the countenance you have deigned to show me will long dwell in my remembrance.
There reigns in it gentleness and goodness, and if a tinge of the world's pride or vanities may mix with an expression so lovely, how should we chide that which is of earth for bearing some color of its original? Long, long will I remember your features. And bless God that I leave my noble deliverer united with... She stopped short, her eyes filled with tears. She hastily wiped them, and answered to the anxious enquiries of Rowena. I am well, lady, well, but my heart swells when I think of Torkelstone and the lists of Templestowe. Farewell. One, the most trifling part of my duty, remains undischarged. Accept this casket. Startle not at its contents. Rowena opened the small silver-chased casket, and perceived a carcanet or necklace with ear-jewels of diamonds which were obviously of immense value.
It is impossible, she said, tendering back the casket. I dare not accept a gift of such consequence. Yet keep it, lady, returned Rebecca. You have power, rank, command, influence. We have wealth, the source both of our strength and weakness. The value of these toys, ten times multiplied, would not influence half so much as your slightest wish. To you, therefore, the gift is of little value, and to me what I part with is of much less. Let me not think you deemed so wretchedly ill of my nation as your commons believe. Think ye that I prize these sparkling fragments of stone above my liberty, or that my father values them in comparison to the honor of his only child? Accept them, lady. To me they are valueless.
I will never wear jewels more. "'You are then unhappy,' said Rowena, struck with the manner in which Rebecca uttered the last words. "'Oh, remain with us. The council of holy men will wean you from your erring law, and I will be a sister to you.' "'No, lady,' answered Rebecca, the same calm melancholy reigning in her soft voice and beautiful features. "'That may not be. I may not change the faith of my fathers, like a garment unsuited to the climate in which I seek to dwell, And unhappy lady I will not be. He, to whom I dedicate my future life, will be my comforter if I do his will. Have you then convents, to one of which you mean to retire? asked Rowena. No, lady, said the Jewess, but among our people, since the time of Abraham downwards, have been women who have devoted their thoughts to heaven, and their actions to works of kindness to men, tending the sick, feeding the hungry, and relieving the distressed.
Among these will Rebecca be numbered. Say this to thy lord, should he chance to inquire after the fate of her whose life he saved. There was an involuntary tremor on Rebecca's voice, and a tenderness of accent, which perhaps betrayed more than she would willingly have expressed. She hastened to bid Rowena adieu. Farewell, she said. May he, who made both Jew and Christian, shower down on you his choicest blessings. The bark that waits us hence will be under way ere we can reach the port. She glided from the apartment, leaving Rowena surprised as if a vision had passed before her. The fair Saxon related the singular conference to her husband, on whose mind it made a deep impression. He lived long and happily with Rowena, for they were attached to each other by the bonds of early affection, and they loved each other the more from the recollection of the obstacles which had impeded their union.
Yet it would be inquiring too curiously to ask whether the recollection of Rebecca's beauty and magnanimity did not recur to his mind more frequently than the fair descendant of Alfred might altogether have approved. Ivanhoe distinguished himself in the service of Richard, and was graced with farther marks of the royal favor. He might have risen still higher but for the premature death of the heroic corps de Leon before the castle of Chalus near Limoges. With the life of a generous but rash and romantic monarch, perished all the projects which his ambition and his generosity had formed, to whom may be applied, with a slight alteration, the lines composed by Johnson for Charles of Sweden, his fate was destined to a foreign strand, a petty fortress and an humble hand.
He left the name at which the world grew pale, to point a moral or adorn a tale.