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 PR5318.A1 1900 
 
 Ivanhoe; a romance. 
 
 3 1924 013 544 691 
 
The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013544691 
 
IVANHOE. 
 
h ^jmz -■ ^~ *--^4$\\ \M 
 
 DRINK HAEL, HOLY CLEKK OF COPM ANHURST. 
 
 [Page 167 
 
IVANHOE. 
 
 A ROMANCE. 
 
 By SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 
 
 A. L. BURT, PUBLISHER, 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
Hod 
 
 /SOW 
 
 UuMJLi 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The author of the "Waverley Novels had hitherto pro- 
 ceeded in an unabated course of popularity, and might, in 
 his peculiar district of literature, have been termed L 'En- 
 fant Gdte of success. It was plain, however, that frequent 
 publication must finally wear out the public favor, unless 
 some mode could be devised to give an appearance 
 of novelty to subsequent productions. Scottish man- 
 ners, Scottish dialect and Scottish characters of note 
 being those with which the author was most inti- 
 mately and familiarly acquainted, were the groundwork 
 upon which he had hitherto relied for giving effect 
 to his narrative. It was, however, obvious that this kind 
 of interest must in the end occasion a degree of same- 
 ness and repetition, if exclusively resorted to, and that the 
 reader was likely at length to adopt the language of Edwin, 
 in Parnell's Tale: 
 
 " ' Reverse the spell,' lie cries, 
 
 ' And let it fairly now suffice, 
 
 The gambol has been shewn.'" 
 
 Nothing can be more dangerous for the fame of a pro- 
 fessor of the fine arts than to permit (if he can possibly 
 prevent it) the character of a mannerist to be attached to 
 him, or that he should be supposed capable of success only 
 in a particular and limited style. The public are, in gen- 
 eral, very ready to adopt the opinion, that he who has 
 pleased them in one peculiar mode of composition, is, by 
 means of that very talent, rendered incapable of venturing 
 
iv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 upon other subjects. The effect of this disinclination, on 
 the part of the public, toward the artificers of their pleas- 
 ures when they attempt to enlarge their means of amusing, 
 may be seen in the censures usually passed by vulgar criti- 
 cism upon actors or artists who venture to change the 
 character of their efforts, that, in so doing, they may 
 enlarge the scale of their art. 
 
 There is some justice in this opinion as there always is 
 in such as attain general currency. It may often happen 
 on the stage, that an actor, by possessing in a pre-eminent 
 degree the external qualities necessary to give effect to 
 comedy, may be deprived of the right to aspire to tragic 
 excellence; and in painting or literary composition, an 
 artist or poet may be master exclusively of modes of 
 thought, and powers of expression, which confine him to a 
 single course of subjects. But much more frequently the 
 same capacity which carries a man to popularity in one 
 department will obtain for him success in another, and 
 that must be more particularly the case in literary compo- 
 sition than either in acting or painting, because the 
 adventurer in that department is not impeded in his 
 exertions by any peculiarity of features, or conformation 
 of person, propel for particular parts, or, by any peculiar 
 mechanical habits of using the pencil, limited to a particu- 
 lar class of subjects. 
 
 Whether this reasoning be correct or otherwise, the 
 present author felt that, in confining himself to subjects 
 purely Scottish, he was not only likely to weary out the 
 indulgence of his readers, but also greatly to limit his own 
 power of affording them pleasure. In a highly polished 
 country, where so much genius is monthly employed in 
 catering for public amusement, a fresh topic, such as he 
 had himself had the happiness to light upon, is the 
 untasted spring of the desert: 
 
 "Men bless their stars and call it luxury." 
 
INTRODUCTION. V 
 
 Bat when men and horses, cattle, camels and drome- 
 daries, have poached the spring into mud, it becomes loath- 
 some to those who at first drank of it with rapture; and 
 he who had the merit of discovering it, if he would pre- 
 serve his reputation with the tribe, must display his talents 
 by a fresh discovery of untasted fountains. 
 
 If the author, who finds himself limited to a particular 
 class of subjects, endeavors to sustain his reputation by 
 striving to add a novelty of attraction to themes -of the 
 same character which have been formerly successful under 
 his management, there are manifest reasons why, after a 
 certain point, he is likely to fail. If the mine be not 
 wrought out, the strength and capacity of the miner 
 become necessarily exhausted. If he closely imitates the 
 narratives which he has before rendered successful, he is 
 doomed to "'wonder that they please no more." If he 
 struggles to take a different view of the same class of sub- 
 jects, he speedily discovers that what is obvious, graceful 
 and natural, has been exhausted; and, in order to obtain 
 the indispensable charm of novelty, he is forced upon 
 caricature, and, to avoid being trite, must become extrav- 
 agant. 
 
 It is not, perhaps, necessary to enumerate so many 
 reasons why the author of the Scottish Novels, as they 
 were then exclusively termed, should be desirous to make 
 an experiment on a subject purely English. It was his 
 purpose, at the same time, to have rendered the experiment 
 as complete as possible, by bringing the intended work 
 before the public as the effort of a new candidate for their 
 favor, in order that no degree of prejudice, whether favor- 
 able or the reverse, might attach to it, as a new production 
 of the author of Waverly; but this intention was after- 
 ward departed from, for reasons to be hereafter mentioned. 
 
 The period of the narrative adopted was the reign of 
 Eichard I, not only as abounding with characters whose 
 
vi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 very names were sure to attract general attention, but as 
 affording a striking contrast betwixt the Saxons, by whom 
 the soil was cultivated, and the Normans who still reigned 
 in it as conquerors, reluctant to mix with the vanquished, 
 or acknowledge themselves of the same stock. The idea 
 of this contrast was taken from the ingenious and unfor- 
 tunate Logan's tragedy of Runnymede, in which, about 
 the same period of history, the author had seen the Saxon 
 and Norman barons opposed to each other on different 
 sides of the stage. He does not recollect that there was 
 any attempt to contrast the two races in their habits and 
 sentiments; and indeed it was obvious, that history was 
 violated by introducing the Saxons still existing as a high- 
 minded and martial race of nobles. 
 
 They did, however, survive as a people, and some of the 
 ancient Saxon families possessed wealth and power, although 
 they were exceptions to tho humble condition of the race 
 in general. It seemed to the author, that the existence of 
 the two races in the same country, the vanquished dis- 
 tinguished by their plain, homely, blunt manners, and the 
 free spirit infused by their ancient institutions and laws; 
 the victors, by the high spirit of military fame, personal 
 adventure, and whatever could distinguish them as the 
 Flower of Chivalry, might, intermixed with other charac- 
 ters belonging to the same time and country, interest the 
 reader by the contrast, if the author should not fail on his 
 part. 
 
 Scotland, however, had been of late used so exclusively 
 as the scene of what is called Historical Romance, that the 
 preliminary letter of Mr. Laurence Templeton became in 
 some measure necessary. To this, as to an Introduction, 
 the reader is referred, as expressing the author's purpose 
 and opinions in undertaking this species of composition, 
 under the necessary reservation, that he is far from think- 
 ing he has attained the point at which he aimed, 
 
INTRODUCTION vii 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to add that there was no idea or 
 wish to pass off the supposed Mr. Templeton as a real 
 person. But a kind of continuation of the Tales of my 
 Landlord had been recently attempted by a stranger, and 
 it was supposed this Dedicatory Epistle might pass for 
 some imitation of the same kind, and thus putting inquir- 
 ers upon a false scent, induce them to believe they had 
 before them the work of some new candidate for their 
 favor. 
 
 After a considerable part of the work had been finished 
 and printed, the publishers, who pretended to discern in it 
 a germ of popularity, remonstrated strenuously against its 
 appearing as an absolutely anonymous production, and 
 contended that it should have the advantage of being 
 announced as by the author of Waverly. The author did 
 not make any obstinate opposition, for he began to be of 
 opinion with Dr. Wheeler, in Miss Bdgeworth's excellent 
 tale of " Manoeuvring," that " Trick upon Trick " might 
 be too much for the patience of an indulgent public, and 
 might be reasonably considered as trifling with their favor. 
 
 The book, therefore, appeared as an avowed continua- 
 tion of the Waverly Novels; and it would be ungrateful 
 not to acknowledge, that it met with the same favorable 
 reception as its predecessors. 
 
 Such annotations as maybe useful to assist the reader in 
 comprehending the characters of the Jew, the Templar, 
 the Captain of the Mercenaries, or Free Companions, as 
 they were called, and others proper to the period, are 
 added, but with a sparing hand, since sufficient imforma- 
 tion on these subjects is to be found in general history. 
 
 An incident in the tale, which had the good fortune to 
 find favor in the eyes of many readers, is more directly 
 borrowed from the stores of old romance. I mean the 
 meeting of the King with Friar Tuck at the cell of that 
 buxom hermit. The general tone of the story belongs to 
 
v iii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 all ranks and all countries, which emulate each other in 
 describing the rambles of a disguised sovereign, who, 
 going in search of information or amusement, into the 
 lower ranks of ufe, meets with adventures diverting to the 
 reader or hearer, from the contrast betwixt the monarch's 
 outward appearance and his real character. The Eastern 
 tale-teller has for his theme the disguised expeditions of 
 Haroun Alraschid with his faithful attendants, Mesrour 
 and Giafar, through the midnight streets of Bagdad; and 
 Scottish tradition dwells upon the similar exploits of 
 James V, distinguished during such excursions by the 
 traveling name of the Goodman of Ballengeigh, as the 
 Commander of the Faithful, when he desired to be incog- 
 nito, was known by that of II Bondocani. The French 
 minstrels are not silent on so popular a theme. There must 
 have been a Norman original of the Scottish metrical 
 romance of Eauf Colziar, in which Charlemagne is intro- 
 duced as the unknown guest of the charcoalman.* It 
 seems to have been the original of other poems of the kind. 
 
 In merry England there is no end of popular ballads on 
 this theme. The poem of John the Keeve, or Steward, 
 mentioned by Bishop Percy, in the Eeiiques of English 
 Poetry, is said to have turned on such an incident; and 
 we have besides, the King and the Tanner of Tamworth, 
 the King and Miller of Mansfield, and others on the same 
 topic. But the peculiar tale of this nature to which the 
 author of Ivanhoe has to acknowledge an obligation, is 
 more ancient by two centuries than any of these last 
 mentioned. 
 
 It was first communicated to the public in that curious 
 record of ancient literature which has been accumulated 
 
 * This very curious poem, long a desideratum in Scottish litera- 
 ture, and given up as irrevocably lost, was lately brought to light by 
 the researches of Dr. Irvine of the Advocates' Library, and has been 
 reprinted by Mr, David Laing, Edinburgh 
 
INTRODUCTION. i x 
 
 by the combined exertions of Sir Egerton Brydges and 
 Mr. Hazlewood, in the periodical work entitled the British 
 Bibliographer. From thence it has been transferred by 
 the Reverend Charles Henry Hartshorne, M. A., editor of 
 a very curious volume, entitled "Ancient Metrical Tales, 
 printed chiefly from original sources, 1829." Mr.Harts- 
 horne gives no other authority for the present fragment, 
 except the article in the Bibliographer, where it is entitled 
 the Kyng and the Hermite. A short abstract of its con- 
 tents will shew its similarity to the meeting of King 
 Richard and Friar Tuck. 
 
 King Edward (we are not told which among the mon- 
 archs of that name, but, from his temper and habits, we 
 may suppose Edward IV) sets forth with his court to a 
 gallant hunting-match in Sherwood Forest, in which, as 
 is not unusual for princes in romance, he falls in with a 
 deer of extraordinary size and swiftness, and pursues it 
 closely, till he has outstripped his whole retinue, tired 
 out hounds and horse, and finds himself alone under the 
 gloom of an extensive forest, upon which night is descend- 
 ing. Under the apprehensions natural to a situation so 
 uncomfortable, the King recollects that he has heard how 
 poor men, when apprehensive of a bad night's lodging, 
 pray to St. Julian, who, in the Romish calendar, stands 
 Quartermaster-General to all forlorn travelers that render 
 him due homage. Edward puts up his orisons accord- 
 ingly, and by the guidance, doubtless, of the good Saint, 
 reaches a small path, conducting him to a chapel in the 
 forest, having a hermit's cell in its close vicinity. The 
 King hears the reverend man, with a companion of his 
 solitude, telling his beads within, and meekly requests of 
 him quarters for the night. " I have no accommodation 
 for such a lord as ye be," said the Hermit. "I live here 
 in the wilderness upon roots and rinds, and may not re- 
 ceive into my dwelling even the poorest wretch that lives, 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 unless it were to save his life." The King inquires his 
 way to the next town, and understanding it is by a road 
 which he cannot find without difficulty, even if he had 
 daylight to befriend him, he declares, that with or without 
 the Hermit's consent, he was determined to be his guest 
 that night. He is admitted accordingly, not without a 
 hint from the Recluse, that were he himself out of his 
 priestly weeds he would care little for his threats of using 
 violence, and that he gives way to him not out of intimi- 
 dation, but simply to avoid scandal. 
 
 The King is admitted into the cell, two bundles of 
 straw are shaken down for his accommodation, and he 
 comforts himself that he is now under shelter, and that 
 " A night will soon be gone." 
 Other wants, however, arise. The guest became clamor- 
 ous for supper, observing, 
 
 " For certainly, as you say, 
 I ne had never so sorry a day, 
 That I ne had a merry night." 
 
 But this indication of his taste for good cheer, joined to 
 the annunciation of his being a follower of the Court, who 
 had lost himself at the great hunting-match, cannot induce 
 the niggard Hermit to produce better fare than bread and 
 cheese, for which his guest showed little appetite; and 
 " thin drink," which was even less acceptable. At length 
 the King presses his host on a point to which he had more 
 than once alluded, without obtaining a satisfactory reply: 
 
 " Then said the King, ' by Godys grace, 
 
 Thou wert in a merry place, 
 
 To shoot should thou lere; 
 When the foresters go to rest, 
 Sometyme thou might have of the best, 
 
 All of the wild deer; 
 I wold hold it for no scathe, 
 Though thou hadst bow and arrows baith, 
 
 Althoff thou best a Frere-' " 
 
INTRODUCTION. x i 
 
 The Hermit, in return, expresses his apprehension that 
 his guest means to drag him into some confession of offense 
 against the forest laws, which, being betrayed to the King, 
 might cost him his life. Edward answers by fresh assur- 
 ances of secrecy, and again urges on him the necessity of 
 procuring some venison. The Hermit replies, by once 
 more insisting on the duties incumbent upon him as a 
 churchman, and continues to affirm himself free from all 
 such breaches of order: 
 
 " 'Many day I have here been, 
 And flesh-meat I eat never, 
 
 But milk of the kye; 
 Warm thee well, and go to sleep, 
 And I will lap thee with my cope, 
 Softly to lye.'" 
 
 It would seem that the manuscript was here imperfect, 
 for we do not find the reasons which finally induce the 
 curtal Friar to amend the King's cheer. But acknowl- 
 edging his guest to be such a "good fellow " as has seldom 
 graced his board, the holy man at length produces the best 
 his cell affords. Two candles are placed on a table, white 
 bread and baked pasties are displayed by the light, besides 
 choice of venison, both salt and fresh, from which hey 
 select collops. " I might have eaten my bread dry," said 
 the King, " had I not pressed thee on the score of archery, 
 but now have I dined like a prince — if we had but drink 
 enow." 
 
 This too is afforded by the hospitable anchorite, who 
 despatches an assistant to fetch a pot of four gallons from 
 a secret corner near his bed, and the whole three set in to 
 serious drinking. This amusement is superintended by the 
 Friar, according to the recurrence of certain fustian words, 
 to be repeated by every compotator in turn before he 
 drank — a species of High Jinks, as it were, by which they 
 
xii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 regulated their potations, as toasts were given in later 
 times. The one toper says fusty bandias, to which the 
 other is obliged to reply, strike pantnere, and the Friar 
 passes many jests on the King's want of memory, who 
 sometimes forgets the words of action. The night is spent 
 in this jolly pastime. Before his departure in the morn- 
 ing, the King invites his reverend host to Court, promises, 
 at least, to requite his hospitality, and expresses himself 
 much pleased with his entertainment. The jolly Hermit 
 at length agrees to venture thither, and to inquire for Jack 
 Fletcher, which is the name assumed by the King. After 
 the Hermit has shown Edward some feats of archery, the 
 joyous pair separate. The King rides home, and rejoins 
 his retinue. As the romance is imperfect, we are not 
 acquainted how the discovery takes place; but it is proba- 
 bly much in the same manner as in other narratives turn- 
 ing on the same subject, where the host, apprehensive of 
 death for having trespassed on the respect due to his sov- 
 ereign, while incognito, is agreeably surprised by receiving 
 honors and reward. 
 
 In Mr. Hartshorne's collection there is a romance on the 
 same foundation, called King Edward and the Shepherd,* 
 which, considering as illustrating manners, is still more 
 curious than the King and the Hermit; but it is .foreign to 
 the present purpose. The reader has here the original 
 legend from which the incident in the romance is derived; 
 and the identifying the irregular Eremite with the Friar 
 Tuck of Eobin Hood's story, was an obvious expedient. 
 
 * Like the Hermit, the Shepherd makes havoc among the 
 King's game; but by means of a sling, not of a bow; like the 
 Hermit, too, he has his peculiar phrases of compotation, the sign and 
 countersign being Passelodion and Berafriend. One can scarce con- 
 ceive what humor our ancestors found in this species of gibberish ; 
 but, 
 
 " I warrant it proved an excuse for the glass." 
 
INTRODUCTION xiil 
 
 The name of Ivanhoe was suggested by an old rhyme. 
 All novelists have had occasion at some time or other to 
 wish with Falstaff, that they knew where a commodity of 
 good names was to be had. On such an occasion the author 
 chanced to call to memory a rhyme recording three names 
 of the manors forfeited by the ancestor of the celebrated 
 Hampden, for striking the Black Prince a blow with his 
 racket, when they quarreled at tennis: 
 
 " Tring, Wing and Ivanhoe, 
 For striking of a blow, 
 Hampden did forego, 
 And glad he could escape so.'' 
 
 The word suited the author's purpose in two material re- 
 spects — for, first, it had an ancient English sound; and 
 secondly, it conveyed no indication whatever of the nature 
 of the story. He presumes to hold this last quality to be 
 of no small importance. What is called a taking title, 
 serves the direct interest of the book-seller or publisher, 
 who by this means sometimes sells an edition while it is 
 yet passing the press. But if the author permits an over 
 degree of attention to be drawn to his work ere it has ap- 
 peared, he places himself in the embarrassing condition of 
 having excited a degree of expectation which, if he proves 
 unable to satisfy, is an error fatal to his literary reputation. 
 Besides, when we meet such a title as the Gunpowder Plot, 
 or any other connected with general history, each reader, 
 before he has seen the book, has formed to himself some 
 particular idea of the sort of manner in which the story is 
 to be conducted, and the nature of the amusement which 
 he is to derive from it. In this he is probably disappointed, 
 and in that case may be naturally disposed to visit upon the 
 author or the work the unpleasant feelings thus excited. 
 In such a case the literary adventurer is censured, not for 
 having missed the mark at which he himself aimed, but for 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 not having shot off his shaft in a direction he never 
 thought of. 
 
 On the footing of unreserved communication which the 
 author has established with the reader, he may here add 
 the trifling circumstance, that a roll of Norman warriors, 
 occurring in the Auchinleck Manuscript, gave him the for- 
 midable name of Front-de-Bceuf. 
 
 Ivanhoe was highly successful upon its appearance, and 
 may be said to have procured for its author the freedom of 
 the Eules, since he has ever since been permitted to exer- 
 cise his powers of fictitious composition in England as well 
 as Scotland. 
 
 The character of the fair Jewess found so much favor in 
 the eyes of some fair readers, that the writer was censured, 
 because, when arranging the fates of the characters of the 
 drama, he had not assigned the hand of Wilfred to 
 Eebecca, rather than the less interesting Kowena. But, 
 not to mention that the prejudices of the age rendered such 
 an union almost impossible, the author may, in passing, 
 observe, that he thinks a character of a highly virtuous 
 and lofty stamp, is degraded rather than exalted by an at- 
 tempt to reward virtue with temporal prosperity. Such is 
 not the recompense which Providence has deemed worthy 
 of suffering merit, and it is a dangerous and fatal doctrine 
 to teach young persons, the most common readers of 
 romance, that rectitude of conduct and of principle are 
 either naturally allied with, or adequately rewarded by, 
 the gratification of our passions, or attainment of our 
 wishes. In a word, if a virtuous and self- denied character 
 is dismissed with temporal wealth, greatness, rank, or the 
 indulgence of such a rashly formed or ill assorted passion 
 as that of Eebecca for Ivanhoe, the reader will be apt to 
 say, verily Virtue has had its reward. But a glance on the 
 great picture of life will show, that the duties of self- 
 denial, and the sacrifice of passion to principle, are seldom 
 
INTRODtJCTlOft. n 
 
 thus remunerated; and that the internal consciousness of 
 their high-minded discharge of duty produces on their own 
 reflections a more adequate recompense, in the form of that 
 peace which the world cannot give or take away. 
 Abbotsfokd, September 1, 1830. 
 
DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 TO 
 
 THE REV. DR. DRYASDUST, F. A. S„ 
 
 Residing in the Castle- Gate, YorTc. 
 
 Much Esteemed and Dear Sir: 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to mention the various and con- 
 curring reasons which induce me to place your name at 
 the head of the following work. Yet the chief of these 
 reasons may perhaps be refuted by the imperfections of 
 the performance. Could I have hoped to render it worthy 
 of your patronage, the public would at once have seen the 
 propriety of inscribing a work designed to illustrate the 
 domestic antiquities of England, and particularly of our 
 Saxon forefathers, to the learned author of the Essays 
 upon the Horn of King Ulphus, and on the Lands be- 
 stowed by him upon the patrimony of St. Peter. I am 
 conscious, however, that the slight, unsatisfactory, and 
 trivial manner, in which the result of my antiquarian re- 
 searches has been recorded in the following pages, takes 
 the work from under that class which bears the proud 
 motto, Detur digniori. On the contrary, I fear I shall 
 incur the censure of presumption in placing the venerable 
 name of Dr. Jonas Dryasdust at the head of a publication, 
 which the more grave antiquary will perhaps class with the 
 idle novels and romances of the day. I am anxious to vin- 
 dicate myself from such a charge; for although I might trust 
 to your friendship for an apology in your eyes, yet I would 
 not willingly stand convicted in those of the public of so 
 grave a crime as my fears lead me to anticipate my being 
 charged with. 
 
xviii DEDICA TOR Y EPISTLE. 
 
 , I must therefore remind you, that when we first talked 
 over together that class of productions, in one of which 
 the private and family affairs of your learned northern 
 friend, Mr. Oldbuck of Monkbarns, were so unjustifiably 
 exposed to the public, some discussion occurred between us 
 concerning the cause of the popularity these works have 
 attained in this idle age, which, whatever other merit they 
 possess, must be admitted to be hastily written, and in vio- 
 lation of every rule assigned to the epopeia. It seemed, 
 then, to be your opinion, that the charm lay entirely in the 
 art with which the unknown author has availed himself, 
 like a second McPherson, of the antiquarian stores which 
 lay scattered around him, supplying his own indolence or 
 poverty of invention by the incidents which had actually 
 taken place in his country at no distant period, by intro- 
 ducing real characters, and scarcely suppressing real names. 
 It was not above sixty or seventy years, you observed, since 
 the whole north of Scotland was under a state of govern- 
 ment nearly as simple and as patriarchal as those of our 
 good allies the Mohawks and Iroquois. Admitting that the 
 author cannot himself be supposed to have witnessed 
 those times, he must have lived, you observed, among per- 
 sons who had acted and suffered in them; and even within 
 these thirty years such an infinite change has taken place 
 in the manners of Scotland that men look back upon the 
 habits of society proper to their immediate ancestors as we 
 do on those of the reign of Queen Anne, or even the period 
 of the Kevolution. Having thus materials of every kind 
 lying strewed around him, there was little, you observed, to 
 embarrass the author, but the difficulty of choice. It was 
 no wonder, therefore, that, having begun to work a mine 
 so plentiful, he should have derived from his works fully 
 more credit and profit than the facility of his labors 
 merited. 
 
 Admitting (as I could not deny) the general truth of 
 these conclusions, I cannot but think it strange that no 
 attempt has been made to excite an interest for the tradi- 
 tions and manners of Old England, similar to that which 
 has been obtained in behalf of those of our poorer and less 
 celebrated neighbors. The Kendal green, though its date 
 is more ancient, ought surely to be as dear to our feelings as 
 the variegated tartans of the north. The name of Eobin 
 
D.BDIQA TottT EPISTLE. x i x 
 
 Hood, if duly conjured with, should raise a spirit as soon 
 as that of Eob Roy; and the patriots of England deserve 
 no less their renown in our modern circles than the Braces 
 and Wallaces of Caledonia. If the scenery of the south be 
 less romantic and sublime than that of the northern mount- 
 ains, it must be allowed to possess in the same proportion 
 superior softness and beauty; and upon the whole, we feel 
 ourselves entitled to exclaim with the patriotic Syrian, 
 " Are not Pharpar and Abana, rivers of Damascus, better 
 than all the rivers of Israel?" 
 
 Your objections to such an attempt, my dear Doctor, 
 were, you may remember, twofold. You insisted upon the 
 advantages which the Scotsman possessed, from the very 
 recent existence of that state of society in which his scene 
 was to be laid. Many now alive, you remarked, well 
 remembered persons who had not only seen the celebrated 
 Roy McGregor but had feasted, and even fought with him. 
 All those minute circumstances belonging to private life 
 and domestic character, all that gives verisimilitude to a 
 narrative, and individuality to the persons introduced, is 
 still known and remembered in Scotland; whereas in Eng- 
 land, civilization has been so long complete, that our ideas 
 of our ancestors are only to be gleaned from musty records 
 and chronicles, the authors of which seem perversely to 
 have conspired to suppress in their narratives all interest- 
 ing details, in-order to find room for flowers of monkish 
 eloquence, or trite reflections upon morals. To match an 
 English and r Scottish author in the rival task of embody- 
 ing and reviving the traditions of their respective 
 countries, would be, you alleged, in the highest degree 
 unequal and unjust. The Scottish magician, you said, 
 was, like Lucan's witch, at liberty to walk over the recent 
 field of battle, and to select for the subject of resuscitation 
 by his sorceries, a body whose limbs had recently quivered 
 with existence, and whose throat had but just uttered the 
 last note of agony. Such a subject even the powerful 
 Erictho was compelled to select, as alone capable of being 
 reanimated even by her potent magic: 
 
 -gelidas leto scrutata medullas, 
 
 Pulmonis rlgidi stantes sine vulnere fibras 
 Inventit, et vocem defuncts in corpore quaerit." 
 
XX DEDIUA TOR Y EPISTLE. 
 
 The English author, on the other hand, without sup- 
 posing him less of a conjurer than the Northern Warlock, 
 can. you observed, only have the liberty of selecting his 
 subject amidst the dust of antiquity, where nothing was to 
 be found but dry, sapless, moldering and disjointed bones, 
 such as those which filled the valley of Jehosophat. You 
 expressed, besides, your apprehension, that the unpatriotic 
 prejudices of my countrymen would not allow fair play to 
 such a work as that of which I endeavored to demonstrate 
 the probable success. And this, you said, was not entirely 
 owing to the more general prejudice in favor of that 
 which is foreign, but that it rested partly upon improba- 
 bilities, arising out of the circumstances in which the Eng- 
 lish reader is placed. If you describe to him a set of wild 
 manners, and a state of primitive society existing in the 
 Highlands of Scotland, he is much disposed to acquiesce 
 in the truth of what is asserted. And reason good. If he 
 be of the ordinary class of readers, he has either never 
 seen those remote districts at all, or he has wandered 
 through those desolate regions in the course of a summer 
 tour, eating bad dinners, sleeping on truckle beds, stalk- 
 ing from desolation to desolation, and fully prepared to 
 believe the strangest things that could be told him of a 
 people, wild and extravagant enough to be attached to 
 scenery so extraordinary. But the same worthy person, 
 when placed in his own snug parlor, and surrounded by 
 all the comforts of an Englishman's fireside, is not halt so 
 much disposed to believe that his own ancestors led a very 
 different life from himself; that the shattered tower, 
 which now forms a vista from his window, once held a 
 baron who would have hung him up at his own door with- 
 out any form of trial; that the hinds, by whom his little 
 pet-farm is managed, a few centuries ago would have been 
 his slaves; and that the complete influence of feudal 
 tyranny once extended over the neighboring village, where 
 the attorney is now a man of more importance, than the 
 lord of the manor. 
 
 While I own the force of these objections, I must con- 
 fess at the same time, that they do not appear to me to be 
 altogether insurmountable. The scantiness of materials is 
 indeed a formidable difficulty; but no one knows better 
 than Dr. Dryasdust, that to those deeply read in antiquity, 
 
DEDIGA TOR T EPISTLE. xx i 
 
 hints concerning the private life of our ancestors lie scat- 
 tered through the pages of our various historians, bearing, 
 indeed, a slender proportion to the other matters of which 
 they treat, but still, when collected together, sufficient to 
 throw considerable light upon the vie privee of our fore- 
 fathers; indeed, I am convinced that, however I myself 
 may fail in the ensuing attempt, yet, with more labor in 
 collecting, or more skill in using the materials within 
 his reach, illustrated as they have been by the labors of 
 Dr. Henry, of the late Mr. Strutt, and above all, of Mr. 
 Sharon Turner, an abler hand wonid have been successful; 
 and therefore I protest beforehand against any argument 
 which may be founded on the failure of the present 
 experiment. 
 
 On the other hand, I have already said that if anything 
 like a true picture of old English manners could be drawn, 
 I would trust to the good nature and good sense of my 
 countrymen for ensuring its favorable reception. 
 
 Having thus replied to the best of my power, to the first 
 class of your objections, or at least having shown my reso- 
 lution to overleap the barriers which your prudence has 
 raised, I will be brief in noticing that which is more pecu- 
 liar to myself. It seemed to be your opinion that the very 
 office of an antiquary, employed in grave, and, as the 
 vulgar will sometimes allege, in toilsome and minute 
 research, must be considered as incapacitating him from 
 successfully compounding a tale of this sort. But permit 
 me to say, my dear Doctor, that this objection is rather 
 formal than substantial. It is true that such slight com- 
 positions might not suit the severer genius of our friend 
 Mr. Oldbuck. Yet Horace Walpole wrote a goblin tale 
 which has thrilled through many a bosom; and George 
 Ellis could transfer all the playful fascination of a humor, 
 as delightful as it was uncommon, into his Abridgement 
 of the Ancient Metrical Eomances. So that, however I 
 may have occasion to rue my present audacity, I have at 
 least the most respectable precedents in my favor. 
 
 Still, the severer antiquary may think that by thus 
 intermingling fiction with truth, I am polluting the well of 
 history with modern inventions, and impressing upon the 
 rising generation false ideas of the age which I describe. 
 I cannot but in some sense admit the force of this reason- 
 
xxii BEDIOA TOR Y EPISTLE. 
 
 ing, which I yet hope to traverse by the following 
 considerations. 
 
 It is true that I neither can, nor do pretend to the 
 observation of complete accuracy, even in matters of out- 
 ward costume, much less in the more important points of 
 language and manners. But the same motive which pre- 
 vents my writing the dialogue of the piece in Anglo-Saxon 
 or in Norman-French, and which prohibits my sending 
 forth to the public this essay printed with the types of 
 Caxton or Wynken de Worde, prevents my attempting to 
 confine myself within the limits of the period in which my 
 story is laid. It is necessary, for exciting interest of any 
 kind, that the subject assumed should be, as it were, 
 translated into the manners, as well as the language, of the 
 age we live in. No fascination has ever been attached to 
 Oriental literature equal to that produced by Mr. Galland's 
 first translation of the Arabian Tales; in which, retaining 
 on the one hand the splendor of Eastern costume, and on 
 the other the wildness of Eastern fiction, he mixed these 
 with just so much ordinary feeling and expression as ren- 
 dered them interesting and intelligible, while he abridged 
 the long-winded narratives, curtailed the monotonous 
 reflections, and rejected the endless repetitions of the 
 Arabian original. The tales, therefore, though less purely 
 Oriental than in their first concoction, were eminently 
 better fitted for the European market, and obtained an 
 unrivaled degree of public favor, which they certainly 
 would never have gained had not the manners and style 
 been in some degree familiarized to the feelings and habits 
 of the Western reader. 
 
 In point of justice, therefore, to the multitudes who will, 
 I trust, devour this book with avidity, I have so far ex- 
 plained our ancient manners in modern language, and so 
 far detailed the characters and sentiments of my persons, 
 that the modern reader will not find himself, I should hope, 
 much trammelled by the repulsive dryness of mere an- 
 tiquity. In this, I respectfully contend, I have in no 
 respect exceeded the fair license due to the author of a 
 fictitious composition. The late ingenious Mr. Strutt, in 
 his romance of Queen-Hoo-Hall, acted upon another prin- 
 ciple; and in distinguishing between what was ancient and 
 modern, forgot, as it appears tp me^ that extensive neutral 
 
DEBICA TOR T EPISTLE. xx iii 
 
 ground, the large proportion, that is, of manners and sen- 
 timents which are common to us and to our ancestors, 
 having been handed down unaltered from them to us, or 
 which, arising out of the principles of our common nature, 
 must have existed alike in either state of society. In this 
 manner a man of talent, and of great antiquarian erudition, 
 limited the popularity of his work by excluding from it 
 everything which was not sufficiently obsolete to be alto- 
 gether forgotten and unintelligible. 
 
 The license which I would here vindicate, is so necessary 
 to the execution of my plan, that I will crave your pa- 
 tience while I illustrate my argument a little further. 
 
 He who first opens Chaucer, or any other ancient poet, 
 is so much struck with the obsolete spelling, multiplied 
 consonants, and antiquated appearance of the language, 
 that he is apt to lay down the work in despair, as en- 
 crusted too deep with the rust of antiquity, to permit his 
 judging of its merits or tasting its beauties. But if some 
 intelligent and accomplished friend points out to him that 
 the difficulties by which he is startled are more in appear- 
 ance than reality, if, by reading aloud to him, or by re- 
 ducing the ordinary words to the modern orthography, he 
 satisfies his proselyte that only about one-tenth part of the 
 words employed are in fact obsolete, the novice may be 
 easily persuaded to approach the " well of English un- 
 defined," with the certainty that a slender degree of pa- 
 tience will enable him to enjoy both the humor and the 
 pathos with which old Geoffrey delighted the age of Cressy 
 and of Poictiers. 
 
 To pursue this a little further. If our neophyte, 
 strong in the new-born love of antiquity, were to under- 
 take to imitate what he had learned to admire, it must be 
 allowed he would act very injudiciously, if he were to 
 select from the Glossary the obsolete words which it con- 
 tains, and employ those exclusive of all phrases and 
 vocables retained in modern days. This was the error of 
 . the unfortunate Chatterton. In order to give his language 
 the appearance of antiquity, he rejected every word that 
 was modern, and produced a dialect entirely different 
 from any that had ever been spoken in Great Britain. He 
 who would imitate an ancient language with success, must 
 attend rather k> its grammatical character, turn of expres- 
 
xxiv DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 sion, and mode of arrangement, than labor to collect ex- 
 traordinary and antiquated terms, which, as I have already 
 averred, do not in ancient authors approach the number 
 of words still in use, though perhaps somewhat altered in 
 sense and spelling, in the proportion of one to ten. 
 
 What I have applied to language is still more justly ap- 
 plicable to sentiments and manners. The passions, the 
 sources from which these must spring in all their modifi- 
 cations, are generally the same in all ranks and conditions, 
 all countries and ages; and it follows, as a matter of 
 course, that the opinions, habits of thinking, and actions, 
 however influenced by the peculiar state of society, must 
 still, upon the whole, bear a strong resemblance to each 
 other. Our ancestors were not more distinct from us, 
 surely, than Jews are from Christians; they had '^eyes, 
 hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions;" 
 were "fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, 
 subject to the same diseases, warmed and cooled by the 
 same winter and summer," as ourselves. The tenor, there- 
 fore, of their affections and feelings must have borne the 
 same general proportion to our own. 
 
 It follows, therefore, that of the materials which an 
 author has to use in a romance, or fictitious composition, 
 such as I have ventured to attempt, he will find that a 
 great proportion, both of language and manners, is as 
 proper to the present time as to those in which he has 
 laid his time of action. The freedom of choice which this 
 allows him is therefore much greater, and the difficulty of 
 his task much more diminished than at first appears. To 
 take an illustration from a sister art, the antiquarian de- 
 tails may be said to represent the peculiar features of a 
 landscape under delineation of the pencil. His feudal 
 tower must arise in due majesty; the figures which he 
 introduces must have the costume and character of their 
 age; the piece must represent the peculiar features of the 
 scene which he has cnosen for his subject, with all its, ap- 
 propriate elevation of rock, or precipitate descent of 
 cataract. His general coloring, too, must be copied from 
 nature: the sky must be clouded or serene, according to 
 the climate, and the general tints must be those which pre- 
 vail in a natural landscape. So far the painter is bound 
 down by the rules of his art, to a precise imitation of the 
 
DEDICATORY EPISTLE. XX V 
 
 features of nature; but it is not required that he should 
 descend to copy all or more minute features, or represent 
 with absolute exactness the very herbs, flowers and trees, 
 with which the spot is decorated. These, as well as the 
 more minute points of light and shadow, are attributes 
 proper to scenery in general, natural to each situation, 
 and subject to the artist's disposal, as his taste or dis- 
 pleasure may dictate. 
 
 It is true that this license is confined in either case 
 within legitimate bounds. The painter must introduce no 
 ornament inconsistent with the climate or country of his 
 landscape; he must not plant cypress trees upon Inch- 
 Merrin, or Scots firs among the ruins of Persepolis; and 
 the author lies under a corresponding restraint. However 
 far he may venture in a more full detail of passions and 
 feelings than is to be found in the ancient compositions 
 which he imitates, he must introduce nothing inconsistent 
 with the manners of the age; his knights, squires, grooms 
 and yeomen, may be more fully drawn than in the hard, 
 dry delineations of an ancient illuminated manuscript, but 
 the character and costume of the age must remain invio- 
 late; they must be the same figures, drawn by a better 
 pencil, or to speak more modestly, executed in an age when 
 the principles of art were better understood. His language 
 must not be exclusively obsolete and unintelligible; but he 
 should admit, if possible, no word or turn of phraseology 
 betraying an origin directly modern. It is one thing to 
 make use of the language and sentiments which are common 
 to ourselves and our forefathers, and it is another to invest 
 them in the sentiments and dialect exclusively proper to 
 their descendants. 
 
 This, my dear friend, I have found the most difficult 
 part of my task; and, to speak frankly, I hardly expect to 
 satisfy your less partial judgment, and more extensive 
 knowledge of such subjects, since I have hardly been able 
 to please my own. 
 
 I am conscious that I shall be found still more faulty in 
 the tone of keeping and costume, by those who may be 
 disposed rigidly to examine my tale, with reference to the 
 manners of the exact period in which my actors flourished: 
 It may be, that I have introduced little which can positively 
 be termed modern; but, on the other hand, it is extremely 
 
XX vi DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 probable that I may have confused the manners of two or 
 three centuries, and. introduced, during the reign of Kich- 
 ard the First, circumstances appropriated to a period either 
 considerably earlier, or a good deal later than that era. It 
 is my comfort that errors of this kind will escape the gen- 
 eral class of readers, and that I may share in the ill-deserved 
 applause of those architects, who, in their modern Gothic, 
 do not hesitate to introduce, without rule or method, orna- 
 ments proper to different styles and to different periods of 
 the art. Those whose extensive researches have given them 
 the means of judging my backslidings with more severity, 
 will probably be lenient in proportion to their knowledge 
 of the difficulty of my task. My honest and neglected 
 friend, Ingulphus, has furnished me with many a valuable 
 hint; but the light afforded by the Monk of Croydon, and 
 Geoffrey de Vinsauff, is dimmed by such a conglomeration 
 of uninteresting and unintelligible matter, that we gladly 
 fly for relief to the delightful pages of the gallant Frois- 
 sart, although he flourished at a period so much more 
 remote from the date of my history. If, therefore, my 
 dear friend, you have generosity enough to pardon the pre- 
 sumptuous attempt to frame for myself a minstrel coronet, 
 partly out of the pearls of pure antiquity, and partly from 
 the Bristol stones and paste with which I have endeavored 
 to imitate them, I am convinced your opinion of the diffi- 
 culty of the task will reconcile you to the imperfect manner 
 of its execution. 
 
 Of my materials I have but little to say. They may be 
 chiefly found in the singular Anglo-Norman MS. which 
 Sir Arthur Wardour preserves with such jealous care in the 
 third drawer of his oaken cabinet, scarcely allowing any 
 one to touch it, and being himself not able to read one syl- 
 lable of its contents. I should never have got his consent, 
 on my visit to Scotland, to read in those precious pages for 
 so many hours, had I not promised to designate it by some 
 emphatic mode of printing, as The Wardour Manu- 
 script: giving it, thereby, an individuality as important as 
 the Bannatyne MS., the Auchinleck MS., and any other 
 monument of the patience of a Gothic scrivener. I have 
 sent, for your private consideration, a list of the contents 
 of this curious piece, which I shall perhaps subjoin, with 
 your approbation^ to the third volume of mv tale, in casQ 
 
DEDICATORY EPISTLE. xxvii 
 
 the printer's devil should continue impatient for copy, 
 when the whole of my narrative has been imposed. 
 
 Adieu, my dear friend. I have said enough to explain, if 
 not to vindicate, the attempt which I have made, and 
 which, in spite of your doubts, and my own incapacity, I 
 am still willing to believe has not been altogether made in 
 vain. 
 
 I hope you are now well recovered from your spring fit of 
 the gout, and shall be happy if the advice of your learned 
 physician should recommend a tour to these parts. Sev- 
 eral curiosities have been lately dug up near the wall, as 
 well as the ancient station of Habitancum. Talking of 
 the latter, I suppose you have long since heard the news, 
 that a sulky churlish boor has destroyed the ancient statue, 
 or rather bas-relief, popularly called Eobih of Eedesdale. 
 It seems Robin's fame attracted more visitants than was 
 consistent with the growth of the heather, upon a moor 
 worth a shilling an acre. Reverend as you write yourself, 
 be revengeful for once, and pray with me that he may be 
 visited with such a fit of the stone, as if he had all the 
 fragments of poor Robin in that region of his viscera' where 
 the disease holds its seat. Tell this not in Gath, lest the 
 Scots rejoice that they have at length found a parallel in- 
 stance among their neighbors to that barbarous deed 
 which demolished Arthur's Oven. But there is no end to 
 lamentation when we betake ourselves to such subjects. 
 My respectful compliments attend Miss Dryasdust; I en- 
 deavored to match the spectacles agreeable to her commis- 
 sion, during my late journey to London, and hope she has 
 received them safe, and found them satisfactory. I send 
 this by the blind carrier, so that probably it may be some 
 time upon its journey.* The last news which I hear from 
 
 * This anticipation proved but too true, as my learned corres- 
 pondent did not receive my letter until a twelvemonth after it was 
 written. I mention this circumstance, that a gentleman attached to 
 the cause of learning, who now holds the principal control of the 
 post-office, may consider whether by some mitigation of the present 
 enormous rates, some favor might not be shown to the correspond- 
 ents of the principal Literary and Antiquarian Societies. I under- 
 stand, indeed, that this experiment was once tried, but that the mail- 
 coach having broke down under the weight of packages addressed to 
 members of the Society of Antiquaries, it was relinquished as a haz- 
 ardous experiment. Surely, however, it would be possible to build 
 
xxviii DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 Edinburgh is, that the gentleman who fills the situation of 
 Secretary to the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland^ is the 
 best amateur draftsman in that kingdom, and that 
 much is expected from his skill and zeal in delineating 
 these specimens of national antiquity, which are either 
 moldering under the slow touch of time, or swept away 
 by modern taste, with the same besom of destruction which 
 John Knox used at the Eeformation. Once more adieu; 
 vale tandem, non immemor mei. Believe me to be, 
 Keverend, and very dear sir, 
 
 Your most faithful humble servant, 
 
 Laurence Templeton. 
 Toppingwood, near Egremont, 
 Cumberland, November 17, 1817. 
 
 these vehicles in a form more substantial, stronger in the perch, and 
 broader in the wheels, so as to support the weight of Antiquarian 
 learning; when, if they should be found to travel more slowly, they 
 would be not the less agreeable to quiet travelers like myself. — L. T. 
 
IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Thus communed these ; while to their lovely dome, 
 The full-fed swine returned with evening home; 
 Compell'd, reluctant, to the several sties, 
 With din obstreperous, and ungrateful cries." 
 
 — Pope's Odyssey. 
 
 Is 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 pleas- 
 ant town of Doncaster. The remains of this extensive 
 wood are still to he seen at the noble seats of Wentworth, 
 of Wharncliffe 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 toward 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 Stephen, 
 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 Consul of 
 State, fortifying their castles, increasing the number of 
 their dependents, reducing all around them to a state of 
 
a 1VANS0S. 
 
 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 the 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 pro^ 
 tection to support him in his enterprises, they might in- 
 deed 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 mu- 
 tual 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 
 of the battle of Hastings, and it had been used, as our his- 
 tories assure us, with no moderate hand. The whole race 
 of Saxon princes and nobles had been extirpated or disin- 
 herited, 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. 
 
ItANEOM. 3 
 
 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 invet- 
 erate 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 inter- 
 course between the lords of the soil, and those oppressed 
 inferior beings by whom the soil was cultivated, occasioned 
 the gradual formation of a dialect, compounded betwixt 
 the French and the Anglo-Saxon, in which they could ren- 
 der 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 vic- 
 tors and the vanquished have been so happily blended to- 
 gether; 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 pre- 
 mise 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 
 between 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 between the 
 descendants of the victor Normans and the vanquished 
 Saxons. 
 
4 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 Eoman soldiery, flung their gnarled 
 arms over a thick carpet of the most delicious greensward; 
 in some places they were intermingled with beeches, 
 hollies, and copsewood of yarious descriptions, so closely as 
 totally to intercept the level beams of the sinkirjg 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 consid- 
 erable open space, in the midst of this glade, seemed for- 
 merly to have been dedicated to the rites of Druidical super- 
 stition; 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 Eiding 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 imag- 
 inable, 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 
 
IVANHOB. 5 
 
 throat to the knees, and served ab once all the usual pur- 
 poses 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 slip- 
 ping it over the head and shoulders, in the manner of a 
 modern shirt, or ancient hauberk. Sandals, bound with 
 thongs made of boars' hide, protected the feet, and a roll 
 of thin leather was twined artificially around 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, accoutered with a mouth-piece, 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 2ieighborhood, 
 and bore even at this early period the name of 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 incapa- 
 ble of being removed, excepting by the use of the file. On 
 this singular gorget was engraved, in Saxon characters, an 
 inscription of the following purport: " Gurth, the son of 
 Beowulph, is the born thrall of Cedric of Kotherwood. " 
 
 Beside the swineherd, for such was Gurth'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 companion's in form, was of 
 better materials, and of a more fantastic appearance. His 
 jacket had been stained of a bright purple hue, upon which 
 there had been some attempt to paint grotesque ornaments 
 in different colors. To the jacket he added a short cloak, 
 which scarcely reached half-way down his thigh; it was of 
 crimson cloth, though a good deal soiled, lined with bright 
 
6 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 fan- 
 tastic piece of drapery. He had thin silver bracelets upon 
 his arms, and on his neck a collar of the same metal, bear- 
 ing the inscription: " Wamba, the son of Witless, is the 
 thrall of Cedric of Kotherwood." 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 oell, about the size of those attached to hawks, 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 open work, 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 com- 
 panion, 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 intrust 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 bondsman, was sad and sullen; his aspect 
 was bent on the ground with an appearance of deep dejec- 
 tion 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 disposi- 
 tion to resistance. The looks of Wamba, on the other 
 
JTANHOB. 7 
 
 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 classes, excepting the 
 Norman soldiers, and the immediate personal dependents 
 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 beg to offer the fol- 
 lowing translation : 
 
 " The curse of St. Withold 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. Withold upon them and upon 
 me!" said Gurth; "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 he seemed to design to remedy. "A devil 
 draw the teeth of him," said Gurth, "and the mother of 
 mischief confound the Eanger of the Forest, 'that cuts the 
 fore claws off our dogs, and makes them unfit for our 
 trade!* Wamba, up and help me an' thou beest a man; 
 take a turn round the back o' the hill to gain _the wind on 
 them; and when thou'st got the weather-gage, thou mayst 
 drive them before thee as gentle as so many innocent 
 lambs. " 
 
 * See Note A. The Ranger of the Forest, that cuts the fore 
 claws off our dogs. 
 
8 IVANHOE. 
 
 " 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 garment through 
 these sloughs, would be an act of unfriendship to my sov- 
 ereign person and royal wardrobe; wherefore, Gurth, I 
 advise thee to call off Fangs, and leave the herd to their 
 destiny, which, whether they meet with bands of traveling 
 soldiers, or of outlaws, or of wandering pilgrims, can be 
 little else than to be converted into Normans before morn- 
 ing, to thy no small ease and comfort." 
 
 " The swine turned Normans to my comfort!" quoth 
 Gurth; " 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, fool, 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 quar- 
 tered, 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 called 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 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. Mynheer Calf, too, becomes 
 Mounsieur de Veau in the like manner; he is Saxon when 
 he requires tendance, and takes a Norman name when he 
 becomes matter of enjoyment." 
 
 "By St. Dunstan," answered Gurth, "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, 
 
IVANHOB. 9 
 
 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 
 whiten distant lands with their bones, leaving few here 
 who have either will or the power to protect the unfortu- 
 nate Saxon. God's blessing on our master Oedric, he hath 
 done the work of a man in standing in the gap; but Kegi- 
 nald Front-de-Boeuf is coming down to this country in 
 person, and we shall soon see how little Cedric's trouble 
 will avail him. Here, here," he exclaimed again, raising 
 his voice, "So ho! so ho! well done, "Fangs! thou hast 
 them all before thee now, and bring'st them on bravely, 
 lad." 
 
 " Gurth," said the Jester, "I know thou thinkest me a 
 fool, or thou wouldst not be so rash in putting thy head 
 into my mouth. One word to Reginald Front-de-Bceuf, 
 or Philip de Malvoisin, that thou hast spoken treason 
 against the Norman — and thou art but a castaway swine- 
 herd — thou wouldst waver on one of these trees as a terror 
 to all evil speakers against dignities." 
 
 "Dog, thou wouldst not betray me," said Gurth, "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 
 tramping of several horses which became then audible. 
 
 "Never mind whom," answered Gurth, who had now 
 got his herd before him, and, with the aid of Fangs, was 
 driving them down one of the long dim vistas which we 
 have endeavored to describe. 
 
 "Nay, but I must see the riders," answered Wamba; 
 "perhaps they are come from Fairy-land with a message 
 from King Oberon." 
 
 "A murrain 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 
 
10 IVANHOE 
 
 once, and let us home ere the storm begins to rage, for the 
 night will be fearful." 
 
 Wamba seemed to feel the force of this appeal, and ac- 
 companied his companion, who began his journey, after 
 catching up a long quarter-staff which lay upon the grass 
 beside him. This second Eumseus strode hastily down 
 the forest glade, driving before him, with the assistance of 
 Fangs, the whole herd of his inharmonious charge. 
 
IVANEOB. 11 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 " A Monk there was, a f ayre for the maistrie, 
 An outrider that loved venerie; 
 A manly man, to be an Abbot able, 
 For many a daintie horse had he in stable: 
 And when he rode, men might his bridle hear 
 Gingeling in a whistling wind as clear, 
 And eke as loud, as doth the chapel bell, 
 There as this lord was keeper of the cell." 
 
 — Ghcmeer. 
 
 Notwithstanding the occasional exhortation and chid- 
 ing of his companion, the noise of the horsemen's feet 
 continuing to approach, Wamba could not be prevented 
 from lingering occasionally on the road, upon every pre- 
 tence which occurred; now catching from the hazel a 
 cluster of half-ripe nuts, and now turning his horse's head 
 to leer 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 ecclesiastic of high 
 rank; his dress was that of a Cistercian Monk, but com- 
 posed 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 pent-house 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 con- 
 tract at pleasure into solemnity, although its natural ex- 
 
\2 IVANHOK 
 
 pression was that of good-humored 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 dis- 
 posing them, a certain air of coquettish attraction, savor- 
 ing 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 awk- 
 wardness of the convent, but displayed the easy and habit- 
 ual 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 accommo- 
 dating amble, was only used by the gallant monk for trav- 
 eling on the road. A lay brother, one of those who fol- 
 lowed in the train, had, for his use on other occasions, one. 
 of the most handsome Spanish jennets ever bred in Anda- 
 lusia, which merchants used at that time to import, with 
 great trouble and risk, for the use of persons of wealth and 
 distinction. The saddle and housings of this superb palfry 
 were covered by a long foot-cloth, which reached nearly to 
 the ground, and on which were richly embroidered miters, 
 crosses and other ecclesiastical 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 sus- 
 tained 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. 
 
IVANHOE. 13 
 
 resemblance to the shape of an inverted mortar. His 
 countenance was, therefore, fully displayed, and its expres- 
 sion was calculated to impress a degree of awe, if not of 
 fear, upon strangers. High features, naturally strong, and 
 powerfully expressive, had been burned 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 moustache quivered upon 
 the slightest emotion, plainly intimated that the tempest 
 might be again 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 color, 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 mail, 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 fore part of his 
 thighs, where the folds of his mantle permitted them to be 
 seen, were also covered with linked mail; the knees and 
 feet were defended by splints or thin plates of steel, 
 ingeniously jointed upon each other; and mail 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 
 
14 IYANHOE. 
 
 a squire led behind, fully accoutered for battle, with a 
 chamfron or plaited head-piece upon his head, having a 
 short spike projecting from the front. On one side of the 
 saddle hung a short battle-ax, richly inlaid with Damascene 
 carving; on the other the rider's plumed head-piece and 
 hood of mail, with a 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 banderole 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 was 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 former 
 were naked from the elbow, and the latter 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 sabers, 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 in use among the 
 Saracens, and of which the memory is yet preserved in the 
 martial exercise called El Jerrid, 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-jointed heavy 
 
 * Sse Note B, Negro Slaves, 
 
IVANHOE. 15 
 
 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 the Prior of Jorvaulx 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 Aymer maintained a fair character in the neighbor- 
 hood of his abbey. His free and jovial temper, and the 
 readiness with which he granted absolution from all ordi- 
 nary delinquencies, rendered him a favorite among the 
 nobility and principal gentry, to several of whom he was 
 allied by birth, being of adistinguished Norman family. 
 The ladies, in particular, were not disposed to scan too 
 nicely the morals of a man who was a profound 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 Eiding, 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 knowl- 
 edge of books, however superficial, was sufficient to im- 
 press upon their ignorance respect for his supposed learn- 
 ing; 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 
 Aymer. 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 rev- 
 
16 IVANHOE. 
 
 enues 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 op- 
 pressed. If Prior Aymer rode hard in the chase, or 
 remained long at the banquet — if Prior Aymer 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 irregu- 
 larities by recollecting that the same were practiced by 
 many of his brethren who had no redeeming qualities 
 whatsoever to atone for them. Prior Aymer, therefore, 
 and his character, were well known to our Saxon serfs, 
 who made their obeisance, and received his " benedicite, 
 tnesfilz," 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 
 Jorvaulx's question, when he demanded if they knew of 
 any place of harborage 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. 
 
 " 1 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 humblesb 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!" re- 
 peated 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!" 
 
IVANBOB. 17 
 
 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 Brinxworth, 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 wide glade, which would bring them to the 
 hermitage of Copmanhurst, where a pious anchorite 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 mightest 
 have known Olericus clericum non decimatj that is to say, 
 we churchmen do not exhaust each other's hospitality, but 
 rather require that of the laity, giving them thus an oppor- 
 tunity to serve God in honoring and relieving his appointed 
 servants. 
 
 "It is true," replied Wamba, "that I, being but an ass, 
 am, nevertheless, honored to bear the bells as well as your 
 reverence's mule; notwithstanding I did 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 Aymer?" 
 
 " Cedric," answered the Prior. " Cedric the Saxon. 
 Tell me, good fellow, are we near his dwelling, and can 
 you shew us the road?" 
 
 "The road will be uneasy to find," answered Gurth, 
 who broke silence for the first time, " and the family of 
 Cedric retire early to rest. 
 
 " Tush, tell not me, fellow," said the military rider; 
 " 'tis easy for them to arise and supply the wants of trav- 
 elers such as we are, who will not stoop to beg the hospi- 
 tality which we have a right to command." 
 
 "I know not," said Gurth, sullenly, " if I should shew 
 the way to my master's house to those who demand as a 
 right the shelter which most are fain to ask as a favor." 
 
18 IVANHOB. 
 
 "Do you dispute with me, slave!" said the soldier; and, 
 setting spurs to his horse, he caused him to make a demi- 
 volte across the path, raising at the same time the riding 
 rod which he held in his hand, with a purpose of -chas- 
 tising what he considered as the insolence of the peasant. 
 
 Gurth 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 Aymer, 
 who pushed his mule between his companion and the 
 swineherd, prevented the meditated violence. 
 
 " Nay, by St. Mary, B-other 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 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 santified than ours." 
 
 " In truth, venerable father," answered the Jester, " the 
 Saracen head of your right reverend companion has fright- 
 ened 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 in no way concern them." 
 
 "I forgive thy wit," replied the Abbot, "on condition 
 thou wilt shew me the way to Cedric's mansion." 
 
 " Well, then," answered Wamba, " your reverences 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 reverences will obtain shel- 
 ter before the storm comes on." 
 
 The Abbot thanked his sage adviser; and the cavalcade, 
 
IVANEOE. 19 
 
 Setting spurs to their horses, rode on as men do who wish 
 to reach their inn before the bursting of a night-storm. 
 As their horses' hoofs died away, Gurth said to his com 
 panion, " 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 shew the dog 
 where the deer lies, if I have no mind he should chase 
 him." 
 
 " Thou art right," said Gurth; " it were ill that Aymer 
 saw the Lady Rowena; and it were worse, and 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 bonds- 
 men 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 inso- 
 lence?" said the Templar to the Benedictine, "and why 
 did you prevent me from chastising it?" 
 
 "Marry, 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," observed 
 Brian; "I am accustomed to deal with such spirits. Our 
 Turkish captives are as fierce and intractable as Odin him- 
 self 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. Marry, sir, you must be aware of the poison 
 and the dagger; for they use either with free will when 
 you give them the slightest opportunity." 
 
 "Ay, but," answered Prior Aymer, "every land has its 
 own manners and fashions; and, besides that beating this 
 
20 IVANEOE. 
 
 fellow could procure us no information respecting the road 
 to Cedric's house, it would have been sure to have estab- 
 lished a quarrel betwixt you and him had we found our 
 way thither. Eemember what I told you; this wealthy 
 Franklin is proud, fierce, jealous and irritable; a with- 
 stander of the nobility, and even of his neighbors, Kegi- 
 nald Front-de-Bceuf, and Philip 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 bis belonging to a people from whom 
 many others endeavor to hide their descent, lest they 
 should encounter a share of the vae victis, or severities 
 imposed upon the vanquished." 
 
 " Prior Aymer," said the Templar, "you are a man of 
 gallantry, learned in the study of beauty, and as expert 
 as a troubador in all matters concerning the arrets of love; 
 but I shall expect much beauty in this celebrated Eowena 
 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 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 Pales- 
 tine, ay, or the houris of old 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 good collar," answered the Prior, "against ten 
 butts of Chian 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 am only to be convicted on my own admission, that 
 
IVANEOE. 21 
 
 I have seen no maiden so beautiful since Pentecost was a 
 twelvemonth. Ean it not so? Prior, your collar is in 
 danger; I will wear it over my gorget in the list of Ashby- 
 de-la-Zouche." 
 
 " Win it fairly," said the Prior, "and wear it as ye 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 knight- 
 hood, 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 a way of affection toward this 
 beauty, who may be worshiped, 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 squires, with 
 Haniet and Abdalla, will warrant you against that dis- 
 grace. 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 re- 
 membrance." 
 
 "To the left, certainly the left; I remember his pointing 
 with his wooden sword." 
 
 " Ay, but he held his sword in his left hand, and so 
 pointed across his body with it," said the Templar. 
 
 Bach 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'a 
 
n ivansos. 
 
 directions. At length Brian remarked, what had at 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, exclaim- 
 ing in good French: " Whosoever thou art, it is discourt- 
 eous in you to disturb my thoughts." 
 
 " We did but wish to ask you/' said the Prior, " the road 
 to Bother wood, 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 shall 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 
 led horse, and gave 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 marshes 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 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 Aymer, 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. 
 
 "Yon had better have tarried there to fight for the re- 
 covery of the Holy Sepulchre," said the Templar. 
 
TVANHOM. 23 
 
 "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 a 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 astonish- 
 ment that their guide, after such 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 he stood before the 
 mansion of Cedric — a low irregular building, containing 
 several court-yards or inclosures, extending over a consider- 
 able 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. 
 
 Eotherwood was not, however, without defenses; no 
 habitation, in that disturbed period, could have been so, 
 without the risk of being plundered and burned before the 
 next morning. A deep fosse, or ditch, was drawn round 
 the whole building, and filled with water from a neighbor- 
 ing stream. A double stockade, or palisade, composed of 
 pointed beams, which the adjacent forest supplied, de- 
 fended 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 projecting angles, by which they might be flanked in 
 case of need by the archers or slingers. 
 
 Before this entrance the Templar wound his horn loudly; 
 for the rain, which had long threatened, now began to 
 descend with great violence. 
 
24 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 * Then (sad relief I) from the bleak coast that hears 
 The German Ocean roar, deep-blooming, strong, 
 And yellow hair'd, the blue-eyed Saxon came. 
 
 — I'liornpson's Liberty. 
 
 Is A hall, the height of which was greatly dispropor- 
 tioned 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 Oedric the Saxon. The roof, com- 
 posed of beams and rafters, had nothing to divide the 
 apartment from the sky excepting the planking and thatch; 
 there was a huge fire-place 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 apart- 
 ment 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 im- 
 plements of war and of the chase, 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 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 trans- 
 versely across the platform, from the middle of which ran 
 the longer and lower board, at which the domestics and in- 
 ferior persons fed, down toward the bottom of the hall. 
 
IYANHOE. 25 
 
 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 Ox- 
 ford and 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 occu- 
 pied 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 coloring. Over the 
 lower range of 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 center of the upper table were placed two chairs, 
 more elevated than the rest, for the master and mis- 
 tress of the family, who presided over the scene of hospi- 
 tality, and from doing so derived their Saxon title of honor, 
 which signifies " the Dividers of 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 pro- 
 prietor, 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 ex- 
 pressive of that sort of good-humor which often lodges 
 with a sudden and hasty temper. Pride and jealousy there 
 
26 IVANHOE. 
 
 was in bis eye, for his life had been spent in asserting 
 rights 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 tin- 
 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 gray, although Oedric was approaching to 
 his sixtieth year. 
 
 His dress was a tunic of forest green, furred at the throat 
 and cuffs with what was called minever; a kind of fur in- 
 ferior in quality to ermine, and formed, it is believed, of 
 the skin of the gray squirrel. This doublet hung unbut- 
 toned 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 peas- 
 ants, 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 em- 
 broidered, which completed the dress of the opulent land- 
 holder when he chose to go forth. A short boar-spear, 
 with a broad and bright steel head, also reclined against 
 the back of his 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 master's and the coarse and 
 simple attire of Gurth 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 de- 
 scription; two or three large and shaggy grayhounds, such 
 as were then employed in hunting the stag and wolf; as 
 many slow-hounds of a large bony breed, with thick necks, 
 large heads and long ears; and one or two of the smaller 
 
IVANHOE. 27 
 
 dogs, now called terriers, which waited with impatience the 
 arrival of the supper; but with the sagacious knowledge of 
 physiognomy peculiar to their race, forbore to intrude upon 
 the moody silence of their master, apprehensive of a small 
 white truncheon which lay by Cedric's trencher, for the 
 purpose of repelling the advances of his four-legged de- 
 pendants. One grisly old wolf-dog alone, with the liberty 
 of the 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 wetted by the storm. There was as yet no tidings 
 of Gurth and his charge, which should long since have 
 been driven home from the forest; and such was the inse- 
 curity of the period as to render it probable that the 
 delay might be explained by some depredation of the out- 
 laws, 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 Snxon proprietors consisted 
 in numerous herds of swine, especially in forest-land, where 
 those animals easily found their food. 
 
 Beside 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 season- 
 ing 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 domes- 
 tics 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?" 
 
28 IVANHOE. 
 
 " She is but changing her head-gear," replied a female 
 attendant, with as much confidence as the favorite 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 acquies- 
 cent umph! 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 con- 
 trol — " what, in the name of ten devils, keeps Gurth 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 cup-bearer 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 the thieves and robbers may work their deeds in dark- 
 ness! Ay, the curfew. Reginald Front-de-Bceuf and 
 Philip 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 banditti whom they cannot support but by theft 
 
 * The original has Cnichts, by which the Saxon seem to have 
 designated a class of military attendants, sometimes free, sometimes 
 bondsmen, but always ranking above an ordinary domestic, whether 
 in the royal household or in those of the aldermen and thanes. But 
 the term enieht, now spelt knight, having been received into the 
 English language as equivalent to the Norman word chevalier, I 
 have avoided using it in its more ancient sense, to prevent con- 
 fusion,— \j, T, 
 
IVANHOE. 29 
 
 and robbery. My faithful slave is murdered, and my 
 
 foods are taken for a prey — aud Wamba — where is Wamba? 
 aid not some one he had gone forth with Gurth?" 
 
 Oswald replied in the affirmative. 
 
 "Ay! why this is better and better! he is carried off 
 too., the Saxon fool, to serve the Norman lord. Pools 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 Hereward 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. Keplacing his javelin, 
 he resumed his seat, bent his looks downward, and appeared 
 to be absorbed in melancholy reflection. 
 
 Prom this musing, Cedric was suddenly awakened by 
 the blast of a horn, which was replied to by the the clam- 
 orous 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 trun- 
 cheon, 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 ween, some hership* and robbery which 
 has been done upon my lands. 
 
 Eeturning in less than three minutes, a warder an- 
 nounced, "that the Prior Aymer of Jorvaulx, and the 
 
 pillage, 
 
30 IVANHOE. 
 
 good knight Brian de Bois-Guilbert, commander of the 
 valiant and venerable order of Knights Templars, with a 
 small retinue, requested hospitality and lodging for the 
 night, being on their way to a tournament which was to 
 be held not farfrom Ashby-de-la-Zouche, on the second day 
 from the present." 
 
 "Aymer, the Prior Aymer? Brian de Bois-Guilbert?" 
 muttered Cedric; "Normans both: but Norman or Saxon, 
 the hospitality of Eotherwood must not be impeached; 
 they are welcome, since they have chosen to halt — more 
 welcome would they have been to have ridden further on 
 their way. But it were unworthy to murmur for a night's 
 lodgings 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 attend- 
 ants, 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 re- 
 quire it, and fire, and water to wash, and wine and ale; 
 and bid the cooks add what they hastily can to our even- 
 ing meal; and let it be put on the board when those 
 strangers are ready to share it. Say to them, Hundebert, 
 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 shewn 
 at once his poverty and his avarice." 
 
 The major-domo departed with several attendants to 
 execute his master's demands. "The Prior Aymer!'' re- 
 peated Cedric, looking to Oswald, " the brother, if I mis- 
 take not, of Giles de Mauleverer, 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 his wine cup and the bugle horn 
 better than bell and book: Good; let him come, he shall be 
 welcome. How named ye the Templar?" 
 
 "Brian de Bois-Guilbert." 
 
 "Bois-Guilbert?" said Cedric, still in the musing, half— 
 
IVANHOB. 31 
 
 arguing tone, which the habit of living among dependants 
 had accustomed him to employ, and which resembled a 
 man who talks to himself rather than those around him; 
 " Bois-Guilbert? 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, arro- 
 gance, 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 
 wine and good measure. Elgitha, let thy Lady Rowena 
 know we shall not this night expect her in the hall, unless 
 such be her especial pleasure." 
 
 "But it will be her especial pleasure," answered Elgitha, 
 with great readiness, "for she is ever desirous to hear the 
 lastest news from Palestine." 
 
 Cedric darted at the forward damsel a glance of hasty 
 resentment; but Eowena, and whatever belonged to her, 
 were privileged and secure from his anger. He only replied, 
 "Silence, maiden; thy tongue outruns thy discretion. 
 Say my message to thy mistress, and let her do her pleas- 
 ure. 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 dis- 
 obeyed 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, 
 
 * These were drinks used by the Saxons, as we are informed by 
 Mr. Turner: Morat was made of honey flavored with the juice of 
 mulberries ; Pigment was a sweet and rich liquor, composed of wine 
 highly spiced, and sweetened also with honey ; the other liquors 
 need no expanation. — L.T, 
 
32 IVANHOE. 
 
 rushed into excess and blood-guiltiness, 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 
 major-domo with his wand, and four domestics bearing 
 torches, the guests of the evening entered the apartment. 
 
IVANHOE. 33 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "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. 
 
 Disposed apart, Ulysses shares the treat; 
 A trivet table and ignobler seat, 
 
 The Prince assigns " 
 
 — Odyssey, Booh 21. 
 
 The Prior Aymer had taken the opportunity afforded 
 him of changing his riding robe for one of yet more costly 
 materials, over which he wore a cope curiously embroidered. 
 Besides the massive golden signet ring which marked his 
 ecclesiastical dignity, his fingers, though contrary to the 
 canon, 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 changed his shirt of 
 mail for an under tunic of dark purple silk, garnished with 
 furs, over which flowed his long robes 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 curled 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 re- 
 
U IYANSOW. 
 
 spective 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. It was in shape 
 something like the cloak of a modern hussar, having similar 
 flaps for covering the arms, and was called a Sclaveyn, 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 for the domestics of 
 Cedric and the retinue of his guests, he withdrew to a 
 settle placed beside and almost under one of the large 
 chimneys, and seemed to employ himself iu 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 
 apart. 
 
 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 toward them, and then awaited 
 their approach. 
 
 " I grieve," he said, " reverend Prior, that my vow 
 binds me to advance no further upon this floor of my 
 fathers, 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 language, 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, 
 though the title is antiquated. Vows are the knots which 
 tie us to Heaven, they are the cords which bind the sacri- 
 fice to the horns of the altar, and are, therefore, as I said 
 before, to be unloosened 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 
 Middleham, who died in odor of sanctity, little short, if 
 
we may presume to say so, of her gloroous namesake, the 
 Blessed St. Hilda of Whitby, G-od be gracious to her soul!" 
 
 When the Prior had ceased what he meant as a concilia- 
 tory 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 com- 
 municate 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 
 guests 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 Cedrie's com- 
 mands, his eye distinguished Gurth 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, sirrah Gurth, or hast thou left them to robbers and 
 marauders?" 
 
 " The herd is safe, so please ye," said Gurth. 
 
 "But it does hot please me, thou knave," said Cedric, 
 "that I should be made to suppose otherwise for two hours, 
 and sit here devising vengeance against my neighbors for 
 wrongs they have not done me. I tell thee, shackles and 
 the prison-house shall punish the next offense of this kind." 
 
 Gurth knowing his master's irritable temper, attempted 
 no exculpation; but the Jester, who could' presume upon 
 Cedrie'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 such 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. 
 
36 IVANHOB. 
 
 " Then why should you shackle poor Gurth, 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 
 toward the swineherd, "if the fault is his, and get thee 
 another dog." 
 
 "Under favor, uncle," said the Jester, "that were still 
 somewhat on the bow-hand of fair justice; for it was no 
 fault of Fangs 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 for 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. 
 
 "Marry, that did old Hubert," said Wamba, "Sir 
 Philip de Malvoisin's keeper of the chase. He caught 
 Fangs strolling in the forest, and said he chased the deer 
 contrary to his master's rights as warden of the walk." 
 
 " The foul fiend take Malvoisin," answered the Saxon, 
 " and his keeper both ! I will teach them that the wood 
 was disforested in terms of the great Forest Charter. But 
 enough of this. Go to, knave, go to thy place — and thou, 
 Gurth, 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 neigh- 
 bors that match your infidels, Sir Knight, in Holy Land. 
 But your homely 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, as also that of deer, fowls, 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-fowl, of which 
 there was abundance, were not served up in platters, but 
 brought in upon small wooden spits or broaches, and 
 offered by the pages and domestics who bore them to each 
 
IVANHOE. 37 
 
 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 wand, said aloud: 
 " Forbear! Place for the Lady Eowena." A side-door at 
 the upper end of the hall now opened behind the banquet 
 table, and Eowena, followed by four female attendants, 
 entered the apartment. Oedric, 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 Chian wine is your own." 
 
 "Said I not so?" answered the Prior; "but check your 
 raptures, the Franklin observes you." 
 
 Unheeding this remonstrance, and accustomed only to 
 act upon the immediate impulse of his own wishes, Brian 
 de Bois-G-uilbert kept his eyes riveted on the Saxon beauty, 
 more striking, perhaps, to his imagination because differ- 
 ing widely from those of the Eastern sultanas. 
 
 Formed in the best proportions of her sex, Rowena 
 was tall in stature, yet not so much so as to attract obser- 
 vation 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 be- 
 seech. 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 be- 
 
38 IVANHOE. 
 
 twixt brown and flaxen, was arranged ill 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 round 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 round the shoulders. 
 
 When Eowena perceived the Knight 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 Eowena," 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 hither," 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 com- 
 pany may determine you to travel thitherward; when the 
 roads are so unsafe, the escort of Sir Brian de Bois-Guil- 
 bert is not to be despised." 
 
 " Sir Prior," answered the Saxon, " wheresoever I have 
 traveled in this land, I have hitherto found myself, with 
 
1VANB0E. 39 
 
 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-Zouche, we do so with my noble 
 neighbor and countryman, Athelstane of Coningsburgh, 
 and with such a train as would set outlaws and feudal 
 enemies at defiance. I drink to you, Sir Prior, 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 prep- 
 aration 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 fashions, 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 
 wassail to the fair Eowena; for since her namesake intro- 
 duced the word into England, has never been one more 
 worthy of such a tribute. By my faith, I could pardon 
 the unhappy Vortigern, had he half the cause that we now 
 witness for making shipwreck of his honor 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-Guilbert, "excepting the confirmed tidings 
 of a truce with Saladin." 
 
 He was interrupted by Wamba, who had taken his ap- 
 propriated seat upon a chair, the back of which was deco- 
 rated with two ass's ears, and which was placed about two 
 steps behind that of his master, who, from time to time, 
 supplied him victuals from his own trencher; a favor, how- 
 ever, which the Jester shared with the favorite 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 
 
40 IVANHOE. 
 
 nut-crackers, 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 pre- 
 pared to receive favorably 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, "misdirect travelers? 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 counselor 
 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 or what he may; a 
 night 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. 
 
IVANHOE. 41 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimen- 
 sions, 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 Gurth do thine office, Oswald," said Wamha, with 
 his usual effrontery; "the swineherd will be a fit usher to 
 the Jew." 
 
 "Saint Mary," said the Abbot, crossing himself, "an 
 unbelieving Jew, and admitted into this presence!" 
 
 " A dog Jew," echoed the Templar, " to approach a de- 
 fender of the Holy Sepulchre!" 
 
 " By my faith," said Wamba, " it would seem the Tem- 
 plars love the Jew's inheritance better than they do their 
 company." 
 
 " Peace, my worthy guests," said Cedric; " my hospital- 
 ity 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 pres- 
 ence 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 
 turban'd strangers will admit his society." 
 
 " Sir Franklin," answered the Templar, " my Saracen 
 slaves are true Moslems, and scorn as much as any Chris- 
 tian to hold intercourse with a Jew." 
 
 "Now, in faith," said Wamba, "I cannot see that the 
 worshipers of Mahound and Termagaunt have so greatly 
 the advantage over the people once chosen of Heaven." 
 
42 IVANHOE. 
 
 "He shall sit with thee, Wamba," said Cedric; "the 
 fool and the knave will be well met." 
 
 " The fool," answered Wamba, raising the relics of a 
 gammon of bacon, "will take care to erect a bulwark 
 against the knave." 
 
 "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 piercing black eyes; his high and 
 wrinkled forehead, and long grey 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 rapa- 
 cious 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 Jew's dress, which appeared to have suffered con- 
 siderably 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 sus- 
 tained 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 distin- 
 guish 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 Jew's repeated salutations, and 
 signed to him to take 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 file, casting a timid, 
 supplicating glance, and turning toward 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 atten- 
 tion to the wants of the new guest. The attendants of the 
 Abbot crossed themselves with looks of pious, horror, and 
 
IVANROE. 43 
 
 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 from 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 attendants 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, 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 nearer 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 apparent relish that seemed to 
 betoken long abstinence from food. 
 
 Meanwhile the Abbot and Cedric continued their dis- 
 course upon hunting; the Lady Rowena seemed engaged in 
 conversation with one of her attendant females; and the 
 haughty Templar, whose eye wandered from the Jew to 
 the Saxon beauty, revolved in his mind thoughts which 
 appeared deeply to interest him. 
 
44 IVANHOE. 
 
 "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 favor, 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 Father Aymer," 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 
 recheate or a morte—l 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 curee, arbor, 
 nobles, and all the babble of the fabulous Sir Tristrem."* 
 
 "The French," said the Templar, raising his voice with 
 the presumptuous and authoritative tone which he used 
 upon all occasions, "is not only the natural language of 
 the chase, but that of love and war, in which ladies should 
 be won and enemies defied." 
 
 "Pledge me in a cup of wine, Sir Templar," 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 host 
 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 bridal. But our 
 bards are no more," he said; " our deeds are lost in those of 
 
 * See Note C. Language of the Chase. 
 
IYANHOE. 45 
 
 another race — our language — our very name — is hastening 
 to decay; and none mourns for it save one solitary old man — 
 Cup-bearer! knave, fill the goblets — to the strong in arms, 
 Sir Templar, be their 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-Guilbert; "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 Templar; " never- 
 theless^ " 
 
 " 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 Jeru- 
 salem 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 Eowena, " whose names are worthy to be mentioned 
 with the Knights of the Templar, and of St. John?" 
 
 "Forgive me, lady," replied De Bois-Guilbert; "the 
 English monarch did, indeed, bring to Palestine a host of 
 gallant warriors, second only to those whose breasts have 
 been the unceasing bulwark 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 the 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 defence 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-de- 
 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 assail- 
 ants were Knights of the Temple — and Sir Brian de Bois- 
 Guilbert well knows the truth what I tell you." 
 
 It is impossible for language to describe the bitter 
 
46 IVANHOE. 
 
 scowl of rage which rendered yet darker the swarthy 
 countenance of the Templar. In the extremity of his 
 resentment and confusion, his quivering fingers griped 
 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 
 object at once, omitted, in the joyous glee with which he 
 heard of the glory of his countrymen, 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 will I 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 Eichard, 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 Grilsland was the 
 third." 
 
 " Of Saxon descent, he at least," said Cedric, with 
 exultation. 
 
 " Sir Foulk Doily the fourth," proceeded 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 Turneham." 
 
 " Genuine Saxon, by the soul of Hengist!" shouted 
 Cedric. " And the sixth?" he continued with eagerness — 
 " how name you the sixth?" 
 
 " The sixth," said 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. 
 
IVANHOE. 47 
 
 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-Guilbert scorn- 
 fully, "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 will I 
 say, and loudly — that were he in England, and durst 
 repeat, in this week's tournament, the challenge of St. 
 John-de-Acre, I, mounted and armed as I now am, would 
 give him every advantage of weapons and abide the 
 result." 
 
 '• Your challenge would be soon answered," replied the 
 Palmer, " were your antagonist near you. As the matter 
 is, disturb not the peaceful hall with vaunts of the issue of 
 a conflict which you know cannot take place. If Ivanhoe 
 ever returns from Palestine, I will be his surety that he 
 meets you." 
 
 "A good security!" said the Knight Templar; "and 
 what do you proffer as a 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 Jorvaulx crossed himself, and repeated a 
 pater noster, in which all devoutedly 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 
 Aymer 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-Guilbert, 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 Eowena, 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 
 
48 ITANHOK 
 
 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. Grati- 
 fied 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 gage my honor for the honor of Ivan- 
 hoe. But the wager of battle is complete, even according 
 to the fantastic fashions of Norman chivalry. Is it not, 
 Father Aymer?" 
 
 " It is," replied the Prior, " and the blessed relic and 
 rich chain will I bestow safely in the treasury of our con- 
 vent until the decision of this warlike challenge." 
 
 Having thus spoken, he crossed himself again and again, 
 and after many genuflections and muttered prayers, he de- 
 livered the reliquary to Brother Ambrose, his attendant 
 monk, while he himself swept up with less ceremony, but per- 
 haps 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 Bromholme," said the Saxon, " you do 
 but small credit to your fame, Sir Prior ! Report speaks 
 you 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 Prior had his own reasons, however, for persevering 
 in the course of temperance which he had adopted. lie 
 was not only a professional peacemaker, but from practice. 
 
IVAimOE. 49 
 
 a hater of all feuds and brawls. It was not altogether 
 from a love to his neighbor, or to himself, or from a mix- 
 ture of both. On the present occasion, he had an instinc- 
 tive 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; some- 
 thing 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 Bowena, arose and mingled in the hall, while 
 the heads of the family, by separate 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 gauds 
 and toys — I warrant thee store of shekels in thy Jewish 
 scrip." 
 
 " Not a shekel, not a silver penny, not a halfuing — 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 have imposed upon me — Father 
 Jacob be my speed ! I am an impoverished wretch — the 
 very gaberdine I wear is borrowed from Reuben of Tad- 
 caster." 
 
 The Templar smiled sourly as he replied, "Beshrew 
 thee for a false-hearted liar ! " and passing onward, as if 
 disdaining further conference, he communed with his mos- 
 lem slaves in a language unknown to the by-standers. 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 
 
50 IVANMOB. 
 
 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 astonished report ring- ' 
 ing in his ears. 
 
 The Templar and Prior were shortly after marshaled 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. 
 
IVANMOE. 51 
 
 OHAPTEE VI. 
 
 " To buy his favor 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 objec- 
 tion 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 pres- 
 ently appeared to urge the same request, observing that a 
 cup after midnight was worth three after curfew. With- 
 out 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 his shoulders in displeasure. 
 "I thought to have lodged him in the solere chamber," 
 said he; "but since he is so unsocial to Christians, e'en let 
 him take the next stall to Isaac the Jew's. Anwold," 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 Lady's benison," said the Palmer, 
 with composure; and his guide moved forward. 
 
 In a small ante-chamber, into which several doors opened, 
 and which was lighted by a small iron lamp, they met a 
 second interruption from the waiting-maid of Eowena, who, 
 saying in a tone of authority that her mistress desired to 
 speak with the Palmer, took the torch from the hand of 
 
52 IVANHOE. 
 
 Anwold, 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 sum- 
 mons, 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 Eowena, 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 em- 
 ployed 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 Eowena, with three of her attendants stand- 
 ing 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 Pil- 
 grim acknowledged her claim to it by a low genuflection. 
 
 "Eise, Palmer," said she, graciously. "The defender 
 of the absent has a right to favorable reception from all 
 who value truth and honor manhood." She then said to 
 her train, " Eetire, 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 
 
IVANHOE. 53 
 
 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 halls where 
 by nature and kindred it should have sounded most accept- 
 ably; 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 Eowena sighed deeply, and asked more par- 
 ticularly 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 Prance 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 Kowena, "he were here 
 safely arrived, and able to bear arms in the approaching 
 tournay, in which the chivalry of this land are expected to 
 display their address and valor. Should Athelstane of 
 Coningsburgh 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?" 
 
54 1VANS6B. 
 
 " He was darker," said the Palmer, "and thinner, than 
 when he came from Cyprus in the train of Cceur de-Lion, 
 and care seemed to sit heavy 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 na- 
 tive 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 Eowena 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 shrines thou has visited." 
 
 The Palmer received the boon with another low reverence, 
 and followed Edwina out of the apartment. 
 
 In the ante-room he found his attendant Anwold, who, 
 taking the torch from the hand of the waiting-maid, con- 
 ducted 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 to 
 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 Gurth the swineherd?" said the 
 sfcranger. 
 
 "Griirth," replied the bondsman, "sleeps in the cell on 
 your right, as the Jew on that to your left; you serve to 
 keep the child of circumcision separate from the abomina- 
 sion of his tribe. You might have occupied a more <honor- 
 able place had you accepted of 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, 
 
ItANBOM. 55 
 
 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 of the most simple kind. It consisted of a rude 
 wooden stool, and still ruder hutch or bed-frame, stuffed 
 with cleau straw, and accommodated with two or three 
 sheep-skins by way of bedclothes. 
 
 The Palmer, having extinguished his torch, threw him- 
 self, 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 he left it, and entered that of Isaac the Jew, lift- 
 ing the latch as easily as he could. 
 
 The inmate was lying in troubled slumber upon a couch 
 similar to that on 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 asun- 
 der, 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 garments 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 
 
56 IVANEOE. 
 
 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 him when at a convenient distance from the mansion, 
 and to conduct him to the castle of Philip de Malvoisin, or 
 to that of Eeginald Front-de-Boeuf." 
 
 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 side, and his head dropped 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 inten- 
 tionally stoops, kneels, or prostrates himself to excite com- 
 passion, 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. " holy Moses! 
 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 Eabbah, 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 
 of terror, considering how your brethren have been used, 
 in order to extort from them their hoards, both by princes 
 and nobles; but stand up, I say, and I will point out to 
 
IVANBOE. 57 
 
 yon the means of escape. Leave this mansion instantly, 
 while its inmates sleep sound after the last 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 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, "/possess the means of securing 
 good-will! Alas! there is but one road to the favor of a 
 Christian, and how can a poor Jew find it, whom extor- 
 tions 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 Gentile, 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 
 there were contamination in the touch. 
 
 "Were 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 change 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 Philip de Malvoisin and Eeginald Front-de- 
 Bceuf — 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?" 
 
58 IVANHOE. 
 
 "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 apprised, was occupied by Gurth the swineherd. 
 " Arise Gurth," said the Pilgrim, " arise quickly. Undo 
 the postern gate, and let out the Jew and me." 
 
 Gurth, 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 pallet, " and traveling in company with the Palmer to 
 boot " 
 
 "I should as soon have dreamed," said Wamba, who 
 entered the apartment at the instant, "of his stealing 
 away with a gammon of bacon." 
 
 " Nevertheless," said Gurth, again laying 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 surfer 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 favor." 
 
 So saying, he stooped over the bed of the recumbent 
 swineherd, and whispered something in his ear in Saxon. 
 Gurth started up as if electrified. The Pilgrim, raising 
 his finger in an attitude as if to express caution, added, 
 "Gurth, beware; thou art wont to be prudent. I say, 
 undo the postern — thou shalt know more anon." 
 
 With hasty alacrity Gurth obeyed him, while Wamba 
 and the Jew followed, both wondering at the sudden 
 change in the swineherd's demeanor. 
 
 "My mule, my mule!" said the Jew, as soon as they 
 stood without the postern." 
 
 " Fetch him his mule," said the Pilgrim; "and nearest 
 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 Oedric's train at Ashby. And do thou " he whispered 
 
 the rest in Gurth's ear. 
 
 " Willingly, most willingly shall it be done," said Gurth, 
 and instantly departed to execute the commission. 
 
IVANHOE. 59 
 
 " I wish I knew," said Wamba, when his comrade's back 
 was turned, " what 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 prayer." 
 
 " Something more potent than that," answered the 
 Jester; "for when would repentance or prayer make Gurth 
 do a courtesy, or fasting or vigil persuade him to lend you 
 a mule? I trow you might as well have told his favorite 
 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 sayest well," said the Jester; "had I been a born 
 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 Gurth 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 nar- 
 rowness 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 buck- 
 ram, which he took from under his cloak, containing, as 
 he muttered, " a change of raiment — only a change of rai- 
 ment." 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 gaber- 
 dine as to conceal completely from observation the burden 
 which he had thus deposited en croupe. 
 
 The Pilgrim mounted with more deliberation, reaching, 
 as he departed, his hand to Gurth, 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 
 Gurth, that thou art strangely courteous and most unwont- 
 edly pious on this summer morning? I would I were a 
 black Prior or a barefoot Palmer, to avail myself of thy 
 unwonted zeal and courtesy — certes, I would make more 
 out of it than a kiss of the hand." 
 
60 IVANHOE. 
 
 " Thou art no fool thus far, Wamba," answered Gnrth, 
 "though thou arguest from appearances, and the wise 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 
 Jew's fears, since persons at his age are seldom fond of 
 rapid motion. The Palmer, to whom every path and out- 
 let 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 persecu- 
 tion 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 prop- 
 erty were exposed to every turn of popular fury; for 
 Norman, Saxon, Dane and Briton, however adverse these 
 races were to each other, contended which should look 
 with 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 jaws of the unhappy Israelite was half dis- 
 furnished, 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 tort- 
 ure. Yet the passive courage inspired by the love of 
 gain, induced the Jews to dare the various evils to which 
 
IVANHOE. 61 
 
 they were subjeoted, 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 taxa- 
 tions 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 to 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 skillful 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, " marks the bound- 
 aries over which Front-de-Boenf claims authority — we are 
 long since far from those of Malvoisin. 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 
 manor, 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 succor 
 couldst thou have from me, a peaceful Pilgrim, against 
 two armed heathens?" 
 
62 IVANHOE. 
 
 " good youth," answered the Jew, " thou canst de- 
 fend me, and 1 know thou wouldst. Poor as I am, I will 
 requite it — not with money, for money, so help me my 
 Father Abraham, I have none — but " 
 
 "Money and recompense," said the Palmer, interrupt- 
 ing him, "I have already said, I require none 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, Jew, I 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 be- 
 neath 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's, 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 gyves 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," 
 
IYANHOE. (53 
 
 " If thou wert to guess truly," said the Palmer, " it is 
 what thou canst not supply, wert thou as wealthy as thou 
 say est thou art poor." 
 
 "As I say?" echoed the Jew; "0! 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 armor." 
 
 The Palmer started, and turned suddenly toward 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 sup- 
 ply 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 super- 
 stitious 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 yon last night and this morn- 
 ing, that, like sparks of 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 color; 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 every 
 
64 IVANHOE. 
 
 thing else that can furnish thee forth for the tournament: 
 wheu 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 unhorsed 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 gaberdine. 
 " 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 
 armor, but for the sake of thine own life and limbs." 
 
 " Gramercy 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. 
 
IVANHOE. 65 
 
 CHAPTBE VII. 
 
 " Knights, with a 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 paw'd the ground with restless feet 
 And snorting foam'd and champ'd the golden bit. 
 The smiths and armorers on palfreys ride, 
 Files in their hands, and hammers at their side; 
 And nails for loosen'd spears, and thongs for shields provide 
 The yeomen guard the streets in seemly bands; 
 And clowns come crowding on, with cudgels in their hands." 
 
 — Pcdamon and Areite. 
 
 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 un- 
 certain, 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, Cceur-de- 
 Lion'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 sucession, in case of the King's death, with the legiti- 
 mate heir, Arthur, Duke of Brittany, son of Geoffrey 
 Plantagenet, the elder brother of John. This usurpation, 
 it is well known, he afterward effected. His own charac- 
 ter 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, 
 
66 IVANItoB. 
 
 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 domains, were 
 the leaders of bands scarce less lawless and oppressive than 
 those of the avowed depredators. To maintain these re- 
 tainers, and to support the extravagance and magnificence 
 which their pride induced them to affect, the nobility 
 borrowed sums of money from the Jews at the most usuri- 
 ous interest, which gnawed into their estates like consum- 
 ing 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 dis- 
 order 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 interested 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 bull-fight. Neither duty nor 
 infirmity could keep jouth 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 conflu- 
 ence of persons of all ranks hastened upon the appointed 
 morning to the place of combat. 
 
IVAftZOB. 6? 
 
 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 in- 
 tended, sloped gradually ,down on all sides to a level 
 bottom, which was inclosed for the lists with strong pali- 
 sades, forming a space of a quarter of a mile in length, and 
 about half as broad. The form of the inclosure 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 trum- 
 pets, 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 mag- 
 nificent 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 silvan man, or in some 
 other fantastic dress, according to the taste of his master, 
 and the character he was pleased to assume during the 
 game.* The central pavilion, as the place of honor, had 
 been assigned to Brian de Bois-Guilbert, whose renown in 
 all games of chivalry, no less than his connection 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 Front-de-Boeuf 
 
 * This sort of masquerade is supposed to have occasioned the 
 introduction of supporters into the science of heraldry. 
 
68 IVANHOE. 
 
 and Kichard de Malvoisin, and on the other was the pavil- 
 ion of Hugh de Grantmesnil, 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. 
 Ealph de Vipont, a knight of St. John of Jerusalem, who 
 had some ancient possessions at a place called Heather, 
 near Ashby-de-la-Zouche, occupied the fifth pavilion. 
 From the entrance into the lists, a gently sloping passage, 
 ten yards in length, 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, farriers and 
 other attendants, in readiness to give their services wherever 
 they might be necessary. 
 
 The exterior of the lists was in part occupied by tempo- 
 rally galleries, spread with tapestry and carpets, and 
 accommodated with cushions for the convenience of those 
 ladies and nobles who were expected to attend the tourna- 
 ment. 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 theater. The promiscuous multitude arranged 
 themselves upon large banks of turf prepared for the pur- 
 pose, 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 them- 
 selves 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 arrange- 
 ment, 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 
 
IVANEOB. 69 
 
 arms were emblazoned. Squires, pages and yeomen, in rich 
 liveries, waited around this place of honor, which was de- 
 signed 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 gaily, 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, gaily 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 Royne de la Beaulte et des 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 with- 
 out many quarrels concerning those which they were en- 
 titled 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 elevat,ed persons, were 
 determined by the heralds, or by the two marshals of the 
 field, William de Wyvil and Stephen de Martival, 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 among these that the most frequent disputes for 
 precedence occurred. 
 
 "Dog of an unbeliever," said an old man, whose thread- 
 
70 1VANBOM: 
 
 bare 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 Montdidier?" 
 
 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 
 Kebecca, 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 
 parent's 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 malevolent 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 conclu- 
 sion 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 indig- 
 nation of the by-standers. One of these, a stout well-set 
 yeoman, arrayed in Lincoln green, having twelve arrows 
 stuck in his belt, with a baldric and badge of silver, and 
 a bow of six feet in 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 
 
IVANnOE. ?1 
 
 blood of his miserable victims, had but swelled him 
 like a bloated spider, which might be overlooked 
 while he kept in a corner, but would be crushed 
 if it ventured into the light. This intimation, which 
 was 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 Jorvaulx, 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 
 knees merely, but to his very girdle, and effectually pre- 
 vented him from putting his foot into the stirrup. This, 
 however, was a slight inconvenience to the gallant Abbot, 
 who, perhaps, ever 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 Eichard, having 
 adopted the side of Philip of France in the long train of 
 disputes which took place in Palestine betwixt that mon- 
 arch and the lion-hearted King of England. It was the 
 well-known consequence of this discord that Eichard's re- 
 peated 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 Eng- 
 land and Normandy attached themselves to the faction of 
 
n IVANBOE. 
 
 Prince John, having little reason to desire the return of 
 Eichard 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 
 further 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 
 palfry, caracoled within the lists at the head of his jovial 
 party, laughing loud with his train, and eying 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, could not yet 
 deny to his countenance that sort of comeliness which be- 
 longs to an open set of features, well formed by nature, 
 modeled by art to the usual rules of courtesy, yet so far frank 
 and honest that they seemed as if they disclaimed to con- 
 ceal 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 disposi- 
 tion, conscious of superiority of birth, of wealth, or of 
 some other adventitious 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 rheno (i. e. fur tippet), the rich- 
 ness of his cloak, lined with the most costly sables, his 
 maroquin boots and golden spurs, together with the grace 
 with which he managed his palfry, were sufficient to merit 
 clamorous applause. 
 
 In his joyous caracole round the lists, the attention of 
 the Prince was called by the commotion, not yet subsided, 
 which had attended the ambitious movement of Isaac 
 
IYANHOE. 73 
 
 toward 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 Eebecca 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 ac- 
 cording 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 simarre of the richest Persian silk, exhibiting flowers 
 in their natural colors embossed upon a purple ground, 
 permitted to be visible — all these constituted a combina- 
 tion 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 sometimes 
 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 agraffe set with brill- 
 iants, 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 perfec- 
 tion whose charms drove frantic the wisest king that ever 
 lived ! What sayst thou, Prior Aymer ? By the Temple 
 of that wise king, which our wiser brother Bichard proved 
 unable to recover, she is the very Bride of the Canticles !" 
 
 " The Eose 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," 
 
74 IVANHOE. 
 
 "Ay !" added Prince John, without heeding him, "and 
 there is my Mammon of- unrighteousness, too — the Mar- 
 quis of Marks, the Baron of Byzants, contesting for 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 St. Mark, my prince of supplies, 
 with his lovely Jewess, shall have a place in the gallery ! 
 What is she, Isaac ? Thy wife or thy daughter, that East- 
 ern houri that thou lockest under thy arm as thou wouldst 
 thy treasure casket ?" 
 
 " My daughter Rebecca, 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 hinds 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 Coningsburgh, 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 inani- 
 mate 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 Un- 
 ready. His friends, and he had many, who, as well as 
 Oedric, 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 heredi- 
 
IVANHOE. 75 
 
 tary 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 Rebecca, Athelstane, utterly con- 
 founded at an order which the manners and feelings of the 
 times rendered so injuriously insulting, unwilling to obey, 
 yet undetermined how to resist, opposed only the vis 
 inertias 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 the 
 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 attend- 
 ants, 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 
 
76 IVANEOE. 
 
 firm glance of the same archer whom we have already 
 noticed, and who seemed to persist in his gesture of ap- 
 plause, in spite of the frowning aspect which the Prince 
 bent upon him, he demanded his reason for clamoring 
 thus. 
 
 " I always add my hollo," said the yoeman, " when I 
 see a good shot, or a gallant blow." 
 
 "Sayst thou?" answered the Prince; "then thou canst 
 hit the white thyself, I'll warrant." 
 
 " A woodsman's mark, and at a woodsman's distance, I 
 can hit," answered the yoeman. 
 
 " And Wat Tyrrel'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, point- 
 ing to the yeoman. 
 
 " By St. Grizzel," 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 the 
 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 among ye!" 
 
 " By no means, an 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 land of Montdidier, by no means stimu- 
 lated 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 oif, 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, 
 
IVANHOE. 77 
 
 who, springing betwixt his master and Isaac, and exclaim- 
 ing, in answer to the Prince's defiance, "Marry, 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, flour- 
 ished 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 descent," answered the Jester. "I 
 am "Wamba, the son of Witless, who was the son of Weather- 
 brain, who was the son of an 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 van- 
 quished beside the victor were false heraldry." 
 
 "Knave upon fool were worse," answered the Jester, 
 "and Jew upon bacon worst of all." 
 
 " Gramercy ! good fellow," cried Prince John, " thou 
 pleasest me — Here, Isaac, lend me a handful of byzants." 
 
 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 ascer- 
 tain 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, 
 
78 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 " 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 the rest, 
 Or at the helmet pointed or 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 Jorvaulx, declared 
 the principal business of the day had been forgotten. 
 
 " By my "halidon," said he, " we have forgotten, Sir 
 Prior, to name the fair Sovereign of Love and 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 Eebecca. 
 
 " 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 saint, 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 Rebecca, were 
 it only to mortify the Saxon churls." 
 
 A murmur arose even among his own immediate attend- 
 ants. 
 
 " 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 insult," said one of the 
 oldest and most important of Prince John's followers, 
 Waldemar Fitzurse, "and if your Grace attempt it, cannot 
 but prove ruinous to your projects." 
 
 "I entertained you, sir," said John, reining up his 
 
JTANHOB. 79 
 
 palfrey haughtily, "for my follower, but not for my 
 counselor." 
 
 "Those who follow your Grace in the paths which you 
 tread," said Waldemar, but speaking in a low voice, 
 " acquire the right of counselors; for your interest and 
 safety are not more deeply engaged 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 whom you 
 will, in the fiend's name, and please yourselves." 
 
 "Nay, nay," said De Bracy, "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-Guilbert gain the prize," said the 
 Prior, "I will gage 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 Prior, who will 
 not fear to encounter him." 
 
 "Silence, sirs," said Waldemar, "and let the Prince 
 assume his seat. The knights and spectators are alike im- 
 patient, the time advances, and highly fit it is that the 
 sports should commence." 
 
 Prince John, though not yet a monarch, had in 
 Waldemar Fitzurse all the inconveniences of a favorite 
 minister, who, in serving his own 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 chal- 
 lengers, 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 
 
80 IVANEOE. 
 
 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 outrancej 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 lancfes, 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 num- 
 bers, 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 knightly 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 popu- 
 larity, which he was perpetually throwing down by some 
 inconsiderate act of wanton aggression upon the feelings 
 and prejudices of the people. 
 
 The lists 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, rendered 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 
 
IVANHOB. 81 
 
 cry of " Largesse, largesse, gallant knights!" and gold 
 and silver pieces were showered on them from the gal- 
 leries, it being a high point of chivalry to exhibit liber- 
 ality toward 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 of 
 the Generous — Glory to the Brave!" — to which the more 
 humble spectators added their acclamations, and a numer- 
 ous band of trumpeters the flourish of their martial instru- 
 ments. When these soundo had ceased, the heralds with- 
 drew from the lists in gay and glittering procession, and 
 none remained within them save the marshals of the field, 
 who, armed cap-a-pie, sat on horseback, motionless as 
 statues, at the opposite end of the lists. Meantime, the 
 inclosed space at the northern extremity of the lists, large 
 as it was, was now completely crowded with knights de- 
 sirous 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 of 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 Wardour Manuscript) records at great length their 
 devices, their colors, and the embroidery of their horse 
 trappings. It is unnecessary to be particular on these sub- 
 jects. 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." * 
 
 * These lines are part of an unpublished poem by Coleridge, whose 
 Muse so often tantalizes with fragments which indicate her powers, 
 while the manner in which she flings them from her betrays her ca- 
 price ; yet whose unfinished sketches display more talent than the 
 labored masterpieces of others. 
 
82 IVANHOB. 
 
 Their escutcheons have long moldered 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 which 
 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 com- 
 pelling 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 wild barbaric music was heard from behind the 
 tents of the challengers, where the performers were con- 
 cealed. 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, and with the reverse of his lance, the 
 shield of the antagonist to whom he wished to oppose him- 
 self. The lower orders 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 trage- 
 dies, were then interested in a tournament exactly in pro- 
 portion to the danger incurred by the champions engaged. 
 
 Having intimated their more pacific purpose, the cham- 
 pions retreated to the extremity of the lists, where they re- 
 mained 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 supe- 
 
IVANHOE. 83 
 
 rior dexterity of good fortune of the challengers, that those 
 opposed to Bois-Guilbert, Malvoisin, and Front-de-Bceuf, 
 rolled on the ground. The antagonist of Grantmesnil, in- 
 stead 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 oppo- 
 nent — a circumstance which was accounted more disgraceful 
 than that of being actually 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 honor 
 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 acclama- 
 tions of the heralds, and the clangor of the trumpets, an- 
 nounced 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 tar- 
 ried in the lists long enough to be greeted by the applause 
 of the spectators, among whom he retreated, to the 
 aggravation, doubtless, of his companions' 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 con- 
 tinued success. Three knights only appeared on the fourth 
 entry, who, avoiding the shields of Bois-Guilbert and 
 Pront-de-Boauf, contented themselves with touching those 
 of the three other knights, who had not altogether mani- 
 fested the same strength and dexterity. This politic selec- 
 tion did not alter the fortune of the field, the challengers 
 were still successful; one of their antagonists was over- 
 thrown, and both the others failed in the attaint* that is, 
 
 * This term of chivalry, transferred to the law, gives the phrase, 
 of being attainted with treason. 
 
84 IVANHOE. 
 
 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. 
 
 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 
 Front-de-Bceuf were unpopular from their characters, and 
 the others, except Grantmesnil, 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 Athelstane, 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 unam- 
 bitious 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 j it is not worth while for me to arm myself to-day." 
 
 Two things displeased Cedric in this speech. It con- 
 tained the Norman word melee (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 word, observing, ". It was better, though scarce easier, 
 to be the best man among a hundred than the best man of 
 two." 
 
 Athelstane took the observation as a serious compliment; 
 but Cedric, who better understood the Jester's meaning, 
 
IVANEOE. 85 
 
 darted at him a severe and menacing look; and lucky it 
 was for Wamba, perhaps, that the time and place pre- 
 vented 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 inactivity; 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 ani- 
 mated 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-G-uil- 
 bert, 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 Desdi- 
 chado, 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 youthful grace which he displayed 
 in his-^nanner, won him the favor of the multitude, which 
 some of the lower classes expressed by calling out: 
 " Touch Ralph de Vipont'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 Bois- 
 Guilbert until it rung 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 look upon the sun, for this night 
 thou shalt sleep in paradise." 
 
 " Gramercy 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 honor you will need 
 both." 
 
 Having expressed himself thus confidently, he reined his 
 horse backward down the slope 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 antag- 
 onist. 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-Guilbert did not 
 neglect his advice; for his honor was too nearly concerned 
 to permit his neglecting any means which might insure 
 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 a 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 
 
1YASB0S. 8? 
 
 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-Guilbert's new 
 shield bore a raven in full flight, holding in its claws a 
 skull, and bearing the motto Gave 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 Disinher- 
 ited Knight, yet his courage and gallantry secured the gen- 
 eral good wishes of the spectators. 
 
 The 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 lists 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 the use of the bridle and 
 spur; and having glared at each other for an instant with 
 eyes which seemed to flash fire through the bars of their 
 visors, each made a demi-volte, and retiring to the 
 extremity of the lists, received a fresh lance from the 
 attendants. 
 
 A loud shout from the spectators, waving of scarfs and 
 handkerchiefs, and general acclamations, attested the 
 interest taken by the spectators in this encounter; the most 
 equal, as well as the best performed, which had graced the 
 day. But no sooner had the knights 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 com- 
 batants 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 center 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 
 center of his antagonist's shield, and struck it so fair and 
 
88 IVANHOE. 
 
 forcibly, that his spear went to shivers and the Disinherited 
 Knight reeled in his saddle. On the other hand, the 
 champion had, in the beginning of his career, directed the 
 point of his lance toward Bois-Guilbert'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 irre- 
 sistible. 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 repu- 
 tation; 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 accla- 
 mations 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, how- 
 ever, 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, cast- 
 ing 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, 
 ax, 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, com- 
 pelled them to separate. The Disinherited Knight returned 
 to his first station, and Bois-Guilbert 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 en- 
 
IVANIIOE. 89 
 
 counter them in the order in which they pleased to advance 
 against him. 
 
 The gigantic Front-de-Bceuf, 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 Pront-deBceuf, who 
 lost a stirrup in the encounter, was adjudged to have the 
 disadvantage. 
 
 In the stranger's third encounter with Sir Philip Mal- 
 voisin, he was equally successful; striking that baron so 
 forcibly on the casque, that the laces of the helmet broke, 
 and Malvoisin, only saved from falling by being unhel- 
 meted, was declared vanquished like his companions. 
 
 In his fourth combat with De Grantmesnil, the Disin- 
 herited Knight showed as much courtesy as he had hitherto 
 evinced courage and dexterity. De Grantmesnil'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 the ac- 
 cident 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 Grantmesnil declined, avowing himself van- 
 quished as much by the courtesy as by the address of his 
 opponent. 
 
 Ealph de Vipont summed up the list of the stranger's 
 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. 
 
90 IVANHOE, 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 . . . " In the midst was seen 
 A lady of a more majestic mein, 
 
 By statue and by beauty mark'd their sovereign Queen. 
 * * * * * 
 
 And as in beauty she surpass'd 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 show ; 
 A branch of Agnus Castus in her hand, 
 She bore aloft her symbol of command." 
 
 — Ike Flower and tlie Leaf. 
 
 William de Wytil and Stephen de Martival, the 
 marshals of the field, were the first to offer their congratu- 
 lations 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 heralds when he entered the lists. The marshals were 
 perfectly satisfied by this reply; for amid 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 in- 
 cognito for a certain space, or until some particular advent- 
 ure was achieved. The marshals, therefore, pressed no 
 further into the mystery of the Disinherited Knight, but, 
 announcing to Prince John the conqueror's desire to re- 
 main 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 th§ tournament, in. which the challengers whom he 
 
IVANEOE. 91 
 
 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 ap- 
 pear before us without uncovering his face. Wot 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 there had been within the four seas that girt 
 Britain a champion that could bear down these five knights 
 in one day's jousting. By my faith, I shall never forget 
 the force with which he shocked De Vipont. The poor 
 Hospitaller was hurled from the saddle like a stone from a 
 sling." 
 
 "Boaist not of that," said a knight of St. John, who 
 was present; " your Temple champion had no better luck. 
 I saw your brave lance, Bois-Guilbert, roll thrice over, 
 grasping his hands full of sand at every turn." 
 
 De Braey, being attached to the Templars, would have 
 replied, but was prevented by Prince John. " Silence, 
 sirs !" he said; " what profitable debate have we here ?" 
 
 " The victor," said De Wyvil, " 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 hard work enough to keep him 
 warm . " 
 
 '•' Your Grace," said Waldemar Fitzurse, " will do less 
 than due honor 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 Multon, the Knight of Gilsand, 
 rather," said Fitzurse; " Salisbury is bigger in the bones." 
 A whisper arose among the train, but by whom first sug- 
 gested could not be ascertained. " It might be the King 
 ^-it might be Eichard Ooeur-de-Lion himself !" 
 
 '■' Over gods forbode \" said Prince John, involuntarily 
 
92 IYANEOB. 
 
 turning at the same time as pale as death, and shrinking 
 as if blighted by a flash of lightning; " Waldemar — De 
 Bracy ! brave knights and gentlemen, remember your 
 promises, and stand truly by me !" 
 
 " Here is no danger impending," said Waldemar Fit- 
 zurse; "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 
 Wyvil 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 Eichard's 
 height, and twice as much of his shoulder-breadth. The 
 very horse he backs could not have carried the ponderous 
 weight of King Eichard 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 lists 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 Fitzurse did not 
 altogether remove the Prince's apprehensions; and while, 
 with a short and embarrassed eulogy upon his valor, he 
 casued 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 Eichard the Lion-hearted. 
 
 But the Disinherited Knight spoke not a word in reply 
 to the compliment of the Prince, which he only acknowl- 
 edged with a profound obeisance. 
 
 The horse was led into the lists by two grooms richly 
 dressed, the animal itself being fully accontered 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. 
 
IVANHOE. 93 
 
 The appearance of vanity, which might otherwise have 
 heen attributed to this display, was removed by the pro- 
 priety 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 Jorvaulx 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 toward 
 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 
 Waldemar Fitzurse, has at our court been long held the 
 first in beauty as in place. Nevertheless, it is your un- 
 doubted prerogative to confer on whom you please this 
 crown, by the delivery of which to the lady of your choice, 
 the election of to-morrow's Queen will be formal and com- 
 plete. Eaise 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 Fitzurse, John had more than one 
 motive, each the offspring of a mind, which was a strange 
 
04 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 unaccept- 
 able jest respecting the Jewess Eebecca; he was desirous of 
 conciliating Alicia's father Waldemar, of him 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 profli- 
 gate in his ambition. But besides all these reasons, he was 
 desirous to raise up against the Disinherited Knight (toward 
 whom he already entertained a strong dislike) a powerful 
 . enemy in the person of Waldemar Pitzurse, 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 forward 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 worth while 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 endeavored 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 Wardour Manuscript says, 
 these were fair ones of ten years' standing, it may be sup- 
 posed that, having 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 Eowena 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 q| the lists before which he paused ha,d, merited his 
 
IVANHOE. 95 
 
 predilection. Cedric the Saxon, overjoyed at the discom- 
 fiture of the Templar, and still more so at the miscarriage 
 of his two malevolent neighbors, Front-de-Bceuf and Mal- 
 voisin, 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 
 Eowena had watched the progress of the day with equal 
 attention, though without openly betraying the same 
 intense interest. Even the unmoved Athelstane had 
 shown syniptoms 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 Gentile 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' 
 colt — and the noble armor, that was worth so many zecchins 
 to Joseph Pareira, the armorer 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 
 Eebecca, "in doing such a dreadful battle, he can scarce 
 be expected to spare his horse and armor." 
 
 "Child," replied Isaac, somewhat heated, "thou kndw- 
 est 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, Eebecca! 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 
 
96 IVANHOE. 
 
 every course that was run, seldom failing to hazard a hasty 
 calculation concerning the value of the horse and armor 
 Which was forfeited to the champion upon each new suc- 
 cess. 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 any other motive of hesita- 
 tion, 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 Eowena. 
 The trumpets instantly sounded, while the heralds pro- 
 claimed the Lady Eowena the Queen of Beauty and of 
 Love for the ensuing day, menacing with suitable penalties 
 those who should be disobedient to her authority. They 
 then repeated their cry of "Largesse," to which Oedric, in 
 the height of his joy, replied by an ample donative, and to 
 which Athelstane, 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 prefer- 
 ence 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 disaffec- 
 tion were drowned by the popular shout of "Long live 
 the Lady Eowena, the chosen and lawful Queen of Love 
 and of 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, lie saw himself neverthe- 
 less obliged to confirm the nomination of the victor, and 
 accordingly, callingto horse, he left his throne, and mount- 
 ing his jennet, 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, observ- 
 ing at the same time to those around him — "By my hali- 
 dome, sirs! if the Knight's feats in arms have shewn 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 
 
tVANBOB. 9? 
 
 misfortune not perfectly to understand the characters of 
 those whom he wished to conciliate. Waldemar Fitzurse 
 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 dis- 
 tinction 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 for- 
 ward to the gallery where Kowena was seated, with the 
 crown still at her feet. 
 
 " Assume," he said, " fair lady, the mark of your sov- 
 ereignty, 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." 
 
 Kowena remained silent, and Oedric answered for her in 
 his native Saxon. 
 
 "The Lady Eowena," he said, "possesses not the lan- 
 guage in which to reply to your courtesy, or to sustain her 
 part in your festival. I also, and the noble Athelstane of 
 Coningsburgh, speak only the language, and practice only 
 the manners of our fathers. We therefore decline with 
 thanks your highness' courteous invitation to the ban- 
 quet. To-morrow the Lady Kowena 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 tha coronet and placed it upon 
 Kowena's head, in token of her acceptance of the tempo- 
 rary 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; "to-morrow 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?" 
 
&8 IVANBoR 
 
 The Knight, speaking for the first time, in a low and 
 hurried voice, excused himself by pleading fatigue, and the 
 necessity of preparing for to-morrow'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 success- 
 ful in arms, and his elected Queen of Beauty." 
 
 So saying, he prepared to leave the lists with his glitter- 
 ing train, and his turning his steed for that purpose was 
 the signal for the breaking up and dispersion of the specta- 
 tors. 
 
 Yet, with the vindictive memory proper to offended 
 pride, especially when confined with conscious want of 
 desert, John had hardly proceeded three paces, ere again, 
 turning around, he fixed an eye of stern resentment upon 
 the yeoman 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 yoeman stood the angry glance of the Prince with 
 the same unvaried steadiness which had marked his former 
 deportment, saying with a smile, " I have no intention to 
 leave Ashby until the day after to-morrow. I must see 
 how Staffordshire and Leicestershire can draw their bows. 
 The forests of Needwood and Charnwood must rear good 
 archers. " 
 
 " I," said Prince John to his attendant, 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 V 
 
 " It is full time," said De ISracy, " that the outrecuidance* 
 of these peasants should be restrained by some striking 
 example." 
 
 Waldemar Pitzurse, who probably thought 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 multi- 
 tude became general. 
 
 In various routes, according to the different quarters 
 from which they came, and in groups of various numbers, 
 the spectators were seen retiring over the plain. By far 
 
 *Presumption, insolence. 
 
ItAtfaoM. 9D 
 
 the most numerous part streamed toward the town of 
 Ashby, where many of the distinguished persons were 
 lodged in the castle, and where others found accommoda- 
 tion 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 ac- 
 clamations were bestowed upon Prince John, although he 
 was indebted for them rather to the splendor of his appear- 
 ance and train than to 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 direc- 
 tions, and these speedily died away in silence. No other 
 sounds were heard save the voices of the menials 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 
 had been 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. 
 
(00 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " 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 ; 
 Vex'd and tormented, runs poor Barrabas, 
 With fatal curses toward 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 zeal 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 Dis- 
 inherited 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 at- 
 tendant 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 Disinher- 
 ited Knight had exchanged his armor for the long robe 
 usually worn by those of his condition, which, being fur- 
 nished with a hood, concealed 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 
 
IVANHOE. 101 
 
 unnecessary, unless to persons to whom the face of an in- 
 dividual 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 armor in which he had that day 
 fought. 
 
 " According to the laws of chivalry," said the foremost 
 of these men, "I, Baldwin de Oyley, squire to the re- 
 doubted Knight Brian de Bois-Guilbert, make offer to you, 
 styling yourself, for the present, the Disinherited Knight, 
 of the horse and armor used by the said Brian de Bois- 
 Guilbert 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 here end my 
 message to these gallant knights; but being, as I term my- 
 self, 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 Reginald Front-de-Bo3uf, " to offer a hundred 
 zecchins 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 your- 
 selves, sir squires, and divide the other half betwixt the 
 heralds and the pursuivants, and minstrels, and attend- 
 ants. 
 
 The squires, with cap in hand, and low reverences, ex- 
 pressed their deep sense of courtesy and generosity, not 
 often practised, at least upon a scale so extensive. The 
 
102 iVANEOn. 
 
 Disinherited Knight then addressed his discourse to Bald- 
 win, the squire of Brian de Bois-Guilbert. " 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 chal- 
 lenge. 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, "know 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 rated 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 or wear the other." , 
 
 "You have spoken well, good squire," said the Disin- 
 herited Knight, " well and boldly, as it beseemeth him to 
 speak who answers for an absent master. Leave not, how- 
 ever, 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 be- 
 stow them upon you freely." 
 
 Baldwin made a deep obeisance, and retired with his 
 companions ; and the Disinherited Knight entered the 
 pavilion. 
 
 " Thus far, Gurth," said he, addressing his attendant, 
 " the reputation of English chivalry hath not suffered in 
 my hands." 
 
 "And I," said Gurth, "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 Gurth, "I fear discovery from none, 
 saving my play-fellow, 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 Gurth 
 was keeping his porkers many a mile off in the thickets and 
 swamps of Eotherwood. If I am discovered " 
 
IVANSOR 103 
 
 "Enough," said the Disinherited Knight, " thou know- 
 est my promise." 
 
 " Nay, for that matter," said Gurth, " 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, 
 Gurth," said the Knight. "Meanwhile, I pray you to 
 accept these ten pieces of gold." 
 
 " I am richer," said Gurth, putting them into his pouch, 
 " than ever was swineherd or bondsman." 
 
 " Take this bag of gold to Ash by," 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 sup- 
 plied me." 
 
 "Nay, by St. Dunstan," replied Gurth, "that I will 
 not do." 
 
 "How, knave," replied his master, "wilt thou not obey 
 my commands?" 
 
 "So they be honest, reasonable and Christian com- 
 mands,"' replied Gurth; "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 Gurth, taking the bag under his 
 cloak, and leaving the apartment; " and it will go hard," 
 he muttered, "but I content him with one-half 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 hospi- 
 tality and charity among their own people as they were 
 alleged to be reluctant and churlish in extending them to 
 
104 IVANHOE. s * 
 
 those whom they termed Gentiles, 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, Rebecca 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 and 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. "0, Jacob!" he exclaimed — " 0, all 
 ye twelve Holy Fathers of our tribe! what a losing venture 
 is this for one who hath duly kept every jot and tittle of the 
 law of Moses — Fifty zecchins wrenched from me at one 
 clutch, and by the talons of a tyrant!" 
 
 "But, father," said Rebecca, "you seemed to give the 
 gold to Prince John willingly." 
 
 " Willingly? the blotch of Egypt upon him? "Willingly, 
 saidst thou? Ay, as willingly as when, in the Gulf of 
 Lyons, I flung over my merchandise to lighten the ship 
 while she labored in the tempest — robed the seething bil- 
 lows in my choice silks — perfumed their briny foam with 
 myrrh and aloes — enriched their caverns with gold and 
 silver work! 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 Rebecca, "and the God of our fathers 
 has since blessed your store and your gettings." 
 
 " Ay," answered Isaac, " but if the tyrant lays hold on 
 them as he did to-day, and compels nie to smile while he is 
 robbing me? 0, 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 Rebecca; " we 
 also have advantages. These Gentiles, cruel and oppressive 
 as they are, are in some sort dependent on the dispersed 
 children of Zion, whom they despise and persecute. With- 
 
IVANHOE. 105 
 
 out 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 
 armor, equal to the full profit of my adventure with our 
 Kirjath Jairam of Leicester — there is a dead loss too — p,y, 
 a loss which swallows up the gains of a week; ay, of the 
 space between two Sabbaths — and yet it may end better 
 than I now think, for 'tis a good youth." 
 
 " Assuredly," said Eebecca, " 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 nevv 
 Temple, as to see a Christian, yea, the very best of Chris- 
 tians, 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 Eebecca, perceiving that her attempts at 
 consolation only served to awaken new subjects of com- 
 plaint, wisely desisted from her unavailing efforts — a pru- 
 dential line of conduct, and we recommend to all who set 
 up for comforters and advisers to follow it in the 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 indul- 
 gences. At the same time the servant informed Isaac that 
 a' Nazareue (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.. Jsaa.c a.t ouce re- 
 
106 1VANHOE. 
 
 placed on the table the untasted glass of Greek wine which 
 he had just raised to his lips, and saying hastily to his 
 daughter, " Eebecca, veil thyself," commanded the 
 stranger to be admitted. 
 
 Just as Eebecca had dropped over her fine features a 
 screen of silver gauze which reached to her feet, the door 
 opened, and Gurth 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 Gurth, 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 to the purpose," answered Gurth. 
 
 " As much as my name is to thee," replied Isaac; " for 
 without knowing thine, how can I hold intercourse with 
 thee?" 
 
 "Easily," answered Gurth; "I, being to pay money, 
 must know that I deliver it to the right person; thou, who 
 art to receive it, will not, I think, care very greatly by 
 whose hands it is delivered." 
 
 "0,"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 Gurth, "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 Gurth had ever before tasted. "And how 
 much money," continued Isaac, "hast thou brought with 
 thee?" 
 
 "Holy Virgin!" said Gurth, setting down the cup, 
 "what nectar these unbelieving dogs drink, while true 
 Christians are fain to quaff ale as muddy and thick as 
 the d^S we give to hogs! What money have I brought 
 
IVANHOE. 107 
 
 with me?" continued the Saxon, when he had finished 
 this uncivil ejaculation, "even but a small sum; some- 
 thing in hand the whilst. 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." 
 
 if My master has disposed of them already," said Gurth. 
 
 "Ah! that was wrong," said the Jew, "that was the 
 part of a fool. No Christians here could buy so many 
 horses and armor — no Jew except myself would give him 
 half the values. But thou hast a hundred zecchins with 
 thee in that bag," said Isaac, prying under Gurth's cloak, 
 "it is a heavy one." 
 
 " I have heads for cross-bolts in it," said Gurth, readily. 
 
 " Well, then," said Isaac, panting and hesitating be- 
 tween 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 zecchins for the good steed and the rich 
 armor, which leave me not a guilder's profit, have you 
 money to pay me?" 
 
 " Barely," said Gurth, though the sun 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 zecchins is too little. " It leaveth no profit 
 for the usages of the money; and, besides, the good horse 
 may have suffered wrong in this day's encounter. 0, 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 Gurth, "he is sound, wind and 
 limb; and you may see him now in your stable. And I 
 say, over and above, that seventy zecchins 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 
 
108 IVANEOE. 
 
 shekels — the eighty zecchins, and thou shalt see I will 
 consider thee liberally." 
 
 Gurth at length complied; and telling out eighty zecchins 
 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 zecchin after zecchin, 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 dipt 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." He made a consider- 
 able pause, and Gurth had good hope that the last three 
 pieces might escape the fate of their comrades; but the 
 enumeration proceeded. " Seventy-eight — thou art a good 
 fellow — seventy-nine — and deservest something for thy- 
 self " 
 
 Here the Jew paused again, and looked at the last zecchin, 
 intending, doubtless, to bestow it upon Gurth. 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 Gurth, the chime was full and true, the 
 zecchin plump, newly coined, and a grain above weight. 
 Isaac could not find in his heart to part with it, so he 
 dropped it into his purse as if in absence of mind, with the 
 words, "Eighty 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?" 
 
 Gurth grinned, which was his nearest approach to a 
 laugh, as he replied, "About the same quantity which 
 thou hast just 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 
 
IVANHOE. 109 
 
 himself, unbidden, a third goblet of wine, and left the 
 apartment without ceremony. 
 
 " Eebecca," 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 Bebecca's answer, he observed 
 that during his chaffering with Gurth, she had left the 
 apartment nnperceived. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Gurth had descended the stair, and 
 having reached the dark ante-chamber 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 into a side apartment. Gurth had some 
 reluctance to obey the summons. Bough and impetuous 
 as a wild boar, where only earthly force was to be appre- 
 hended, 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 unamiable qualities which popular report 
 ascribed to them, were supposed to be profound necro- 
 mancers and cabalists. Nevertheless, after a moment's 
 pause, he obeyed the beckoning summons of the appa- 
 rition, 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 
 Eebecca; " 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 zecchins," said Gurth, surprised at the question. 
 • "In this purse," said Eebecca, "thou wilt find a hun- 
 dred. Eestore to thy master that which is his due, and 
 enrich thyself with the remainder, Haste — begone — stay 
 
110 IVANHOE. 
 
 not to render thanks! and beware how you pass through 
 this crowded town, where thou mayst easily lose both thy 
 burden and thy life. Beuben," she added, clapping her 
 hands together, " light forth this stranger, and fail not to 
 draw lock and bar behind him." 
 
 Eenben, a dark-browed and black-bearded Israelite, 
 obeyed her summons, with a torch in his hand; undid the 
 outward door of the house, and conducted Gurth 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 Gurth, as he stumbled up Che 
 dark avenue, " this is no Jewess, but an angel from heaven! 
 Ten zecchins from my brave young master — twenty from 
 this pearl of Zion — Oh, happy day! Such another, Gurth, 
 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." 
 
IVANHOE. in 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " 1st 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. 
 
 Vol. My friends 
 
 1st Out. That's not so, sir, we are your enemies. 
 
 2d Out. Peace ! we'll hear him. 
 
 3d Out. Ay, by my beard, will we ; 
 For he's a proper man." — Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 The nocturnal adventures of Gurth were not yet con- 
 cluded; indeed he himself became partly of that mind, 
 when, after passing. one or two straggling houses 'which 
 stood on the outskirts of the village, he found himself in a 
 deep lane, running between two hanks overgrown with 
 hazel and holly, while here and there a dwarf oak flung its 
 arms altogether across the path. The lane was more- 
 over much rutted 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 rev- 
 elry, 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 Gurth 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 
 of arrant thieves, but of errant knights and errant squires, 
 errant monks and errant minstrels, errant jugglers and 
 errant jesters, that a man with a single merk would be in 
 danger, much more a poor swineherd with a whole bagful 
 of zecchins. Would I were out of the shade of these 
 
112 IVANHOE. 
 
 infernal bushes, that I might at least see any of St. Nich- 
 olas' clerks before they spring on my shoulders." 
 
 Gurth 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 had 
 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 common- 
 wealth, who ease every man of his burden." 
 
 " You should not ease me of mine so lightly," muttered 
 Gurth, 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." 
 
 Gurth 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, whicb lay betwixt it and the open 
 common. He was compelled to follow his rough conduc- 
 tors 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 Gurth 
 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 zecchins of my own property," answered Gurth, 
 doggedly. 
 
 " A forfeit — a forfeit," shouted the robbers; " a Saxon 
 hath thirty zecchins, and returns sober from a village! An 
 undeniable and unredeemable forfeit of a.U he hath abqut 
 him," 
 
1VANH0E. 113 
 
 "I hoarded it to purchase my freedom," said Gurth. 
 " Thou art an ass," replied one of the thieves; "three 
 quarts of 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 Gurth; "but if these same 
 thirty zecchins will buy my freedom from you, unloose my 
 hands and I will pay them to you." 
 
 '* Hold," said one who seemed to exercise some author- 
 ity 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 master's," answered Gurth, 
 "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 worship not St. Nicholas so devoutly 
 but what thy thirty zecchins may yet escape, if thou deal 
 uprightly with us. Meantime render up thy trust for the 
 time." So saying, he took from Gurth's breast the large 
 leathern pouch in which the purse given him by Rebecca 
 was enclosed, as well as the rest of the zecchins, and then 
 continued his interrogation. " Who is thy master?" 
 
 " The Disinherited Knight," said Gurth. 
 
 " Whose good lance," replied the robber, " won the 
 prize in to-day's tourney! What is his name and lineage?" 
 
 "It is his pleasure," answered Gurth, "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 Gurth, " might reveal my master's." 
 
 " Thou art a saucy groom," said the robber, " but for 
 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 Gurth. "These bags 
 contain the ransom of four good horses, and four good 
 suits of armor." 
 
 " How much is there?" demanded the robber. 
 
 "Two hundred zecchins." 
 
 "Only two hundred zecchins!" said the bandit; "your 
 master has dealt liberally by the vanquished, and put them 
 to a cheap ransom. Name those who paid the gold." 
 
114 IVANHOE. 
 
 Gurth did so. 
 
 " The armor and horse of the Templar Brian de Bois- 
 Guilbert, at what ransom were they held? Thou seest 
 thou canst not deceive me." 
 
 " My master," replied Gurth, "will take nought 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 saying 
 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 Gurth, " the price of a suit of armor with which he 
 fitted my master for this tournament." 
 
 "And how much didst thou pay to Isaac? Methiuks, to 
 judge by weight, there is still two hundred zecchins in that 
 pouch." 
 
 "I paid to Isaac," said the Saxon, " eighty zecchins, and 
 he restored me a hundred in lieu thereof." 
 
 "How! what!" exclaimed all the robbers at once; 
 " daresfi thou trifle with us, that thou tellest such improb- 
 able lies?" 
 
 "What I tell you," said Gurth, "is as true as the moon 
 is in heaven. You will find the just sum in a silken purse 
 within the leathern pouch, and separate 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 deserts 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 Gurth. 
 
 "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 pro- 
 ceeded to examine the purse. The others crowded around 
 •him, and even two who had hold of Gurth relaxed their 
 grasp while they stretched their necks to see the issue of 
 the search. Availing himself of their negligence, by a 
 
1VANH0B. 115 
 
 Sudden exertion of strength and activity, Gurth shook him- 
 self 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 Cap- 
 tain, who was altogether unaware of his purpose, and had 
 well-nigh repossessed himself of the pouch and treasure. 
 The thieves, however, were too nimble for him, and again 
 secured both the bag and the trusty Gurth. 
 
 "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 squire's, according 
 to the due order of chivalry. Stand thou fast in the mean- 
 time — if thou stir again, thou shalt have that will make 
 thee quiet for thy life — Comrades!" he then said, address- 
 ing his gang, " this purse is embroidered with Hebrew 
 characters, and I well believe the yeoman's tale is true. 
 The errant knight, his master, must 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 Front-de-Bceuf and Malvoisin, even as we would 
 beat them if we could ? Is he not the enemy to life and 
 death of Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 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 Gandelyn, 
 we had no such scruples of conscience. And this insolent 
 peasant — he too, I warrant me, is to be dismissed scathless?" 
 
 "Not if thou canst scathe him," replied the Captain. 
 "Here, fellow," continued he, addressing Gurth,' " canst 
 thou use the staff that thou starts to it so readily?" 
 
 " I think," said Gurth, " thou shouldst be best able to 
 reply to that question." 
 
116 " IVANHOB. 
 
 "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 light 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 toll-dish." 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/atVe le moulinet, exclaimed boastfully, " Come 
 on, churl, an thou darest: thou shalt feel the strength of a 
 miller's thumb!" 
 
 "If thou be'st a miller," answered Gurth, undauntedly, 
 making his weapon play around his head with equal dex- 
 terity, " 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 dis- 
 tance might have supposed that there were at least six per- 
 sons on each side. Less obstinate, and even less danger- 
 ous combats, have been described in good heroic verse; but 
 that of Gurth 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 hear- 
 ing 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 
 in ordinary cudgel-playing, the utmost coolness is requisite: 
 and it gave Gurth, whose temper was steady, though surly, 
 the opportunity of acquiring a decided advantage, in avail- 
 ing himself of which he displayed great mastery. 
 
IVANHGE. 117 
 
 _ The miller pressed furiously forward, dealing blows with 
 either end of his weapon alternately, and striving to come 
 to half-staff distance, while Gurth 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 endeavored 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 forever! The Saxon hath 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 Gurth, 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 ours, 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." 
 
 Gurth thanked the Captain for his courtesy, and 
 promised to attend to his recommendation. Two of the 
 outlaws, taking up their quarter-staves, and desiring Gurth 
 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 Gurth to 
 believe both that the gang was strong in numbers, and 
 that they kept regular guards about their place of 
 rendezvous. 
 
 When they arrived on the open heath, where Gurth 
 
118 iVAtiEOS. 
 
 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 moonbeams, and from which 
 could be heard the hum of the song with which the senti- 
 nels were beguiling their night-watch. 
 
 Here the thieves stopped. 
 
 "We go with you no further," said they; "it were not 
 safe that we should do so. Kemember 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 Gurth; " I shall 
 remember your orders, and trust there is no offense in 
 wishing you a safer and an honester trade." 
 
 Thus they parted, the outlaws returning in the direction 
 from whence they had come, and Gurth proceeding to the 
 tent of his master, to whom, notwithstanding the injunc- 
 tion he had received, he communicated the whole advent- 
 ures of the evening. 
 
 The Disinherited Knight was filled with astonishment, 
 no less at the generosity of Eebecca, 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 witli which the tent was provided; and the 
 faithful Gurth, extending his hardy limbs upon a bear-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. 
 
IVANEOB. 119 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " The heralds left their pricking up and down, 
 Now ringen trumpets loud and clarion. 
 There is no more to say, but east and west, 
 In go the speares sadly in the rest, 
 In goth the sharp spur into the side, 
 There see men who can just and who can ride ; 
 There shiver shaftes upon shields thick, 
 He feeleth through the heart-spone the prick ; 
 Up springen speares, twenty feet in height, 
 Out go the swordes to the silver bright ; 
 The helms they to-hewn and to-shred : 
 Out burst the blood with stern streames red. " 
 
 — Chaucer. 
 
 MoKiUifG arose in unclouded splendor, and ere the sun 
 was much above the horizon, the idlest or the most eager 
 of the spectators appeared on the common, moving to the 
 lists as to a general center, 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 receiv- 
 ing the names of the knights who intended to just, with 
 the side which each chose to espouse. This was a neces- 
 sary precaution, in order to secure equality between 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 Bois-Guilbert, 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 chal- 
 lenge adhered to his party of course, excepting only Ealph 
 de Vipont, 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 
 
120 IVANHOE. 
 
 knights fought at once, was more dangerous than single 
 encounters, they were, nevertheless, more frequented aDd 
 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 an 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 Eowena, 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 con- 
 siderably 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-Guilbert, Athelstane had the prudence to 
 keep to himself. Though his apathy of disposition pre- 
 vented his taking any means to recommend himself to the 
 Lady Eowena, he was, nevertheless, by no means insen- 
 sible 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 smoth- 
 ered displeasure that the proud though indolent Lord of 
 Coningsburgh beheld the victor of the preceding day select 
 Eowena as the object of that honor which it became his 
 privilege to confer. In order to punish him for a prefer- 
 
IVANHOE. 121 
 
 ence which seemed to interfere with his own suit, Athel- 
 stane, confident of his strength, and to whom his flatterers, 
 at least, ascribed great skill 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-ax. 
 
 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 approved 
 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 
 Kowena from her saddle, while his followers uncovered at 
 the same time, and one of the most distinguished dis- 
 mounted 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 dis- 
 tinguished 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 ar- 
 ranging 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 
 
122 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 battle-ax at pleasure, 
 but the dagger was a prohibited weapon. A knight un- 
 horsed 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 ovei-come 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 trans- 
 gressing 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 un- 
 knightly 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 of Love. 
 
 This proclamation having been made, the heralds with- 
 drew 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, 
 
IVANROK 123 
 
 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 
 Wyvil, with a voice of thunder, pronounced the signal 
 words, Laissez oiler! The trumpets sounded as he spoke 
 — the spears of the champions were at once lowered and 
 placed in their 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 anx- 
 ious 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 oppo- 
 nents, which had borne down both horse and man — some 
 lay stretched on earth as if never more to rise — some had 
 already gained their feet, and were closing hand to hand 
 with those of their antagonists who were in the same pre- 
 dicament — and several on both sides, who had received 
 wounds by which they were disabled, were stopping their 
 blood with their scarfs, and endeavoring to extricate them- 
 selves from the tumult. The mounted knights, whose 
 lances had been almost all broken by the fury of the en- 
 counter, 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, 
 
124 IVANHOE. 
 
 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! Beau-seant! Beau- 
 seant!* — For the Temple! For the Temple!'' The opposite 
 party shouted in answer: " Desdichaclo ! Desdichado !" 
 which watchword they took from the niotto 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 defenceless 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-ax. The gay 
 plumage, shorn from the crests, drifted upon the breeze 
 like snow-flakes. 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 gal- 
 leries, 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 under- 
 stood. It showed itself in loud acclamations upon every 
 
 * Beau-seant was the name of the Templars' banner, which was 
 half black, half white, to intimate, it is said, that they were candid 
 and fair toward Christians, but black and terrible toward infidels. 
 
IYANEO&. 125 
 
 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 be- 
 stowed. 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 de- 
 feat! 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 com- 
 panions both by voice and example. Both displayed great 
 feats of gallantry, nor did either Bois-Guilbert or the Dis- 
 inherited 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 
 either 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 other- 
 wise rendered incapable of continuing the strife, the 
 Templar and the Disinherited Knight at length encount- 
 ered hand to hand, with all the fury that mortal animos- 
 ity 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 Front-de-Bceuf 
 on the one flank, and the ponderous strength of Athelstane 
 on the other, bearing down and dispersing those imme- 
 diately 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 
 
126 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 gen- 
 eral cry from the spectators, who could not but take inter- ■ 
 est 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 Aihelstane and Front-de-Bceuf. These knights, there- 
 fore, 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, how- 
 ever, and wheeling them round, the whole three pursued 
 their united purpose of bearing to the earth the Disinher- 
 ited 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- 
 Guilbert was wounded, and those of Front-de-Bceuf and 
 Athelstane were both tired with the weight of their gigan- 
 tic masters, clad in complete armor, and with the preced- 
 ing 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, keep- 
 ing his enemies as far separate as he could, and rushing 
 now against the one, now against the other, dealing sweep- 
 ing blows with his sword, without waiting to receive those 
 which were aimed at him in return. 
 
 But although the lists rang with the applause of his 
 dexterity, it was evident that he must at last be over- 
 powered; 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. 
 
IVANHOE. 127 
 
 "Not I, by the light of heaven !" answered Prince John; 
 "this same springal, who conceals his name, and despises 
 our proffered hospitality, has 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 Faineant, or 
 the Black Sluggard. 
 
 At once this knight seemed to throw aside his apathy, 
 when he discovered the leader of his party so hard bestead; 
 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, " Desdichado, to the rescue!" 
 It was high time; for, while the Disinherited Knight was 
 pressing upon the Templar, Front-de-Boeuf had got nigh 
 to him with uplifted sword; but ere the blow could des- 
 cend, the Sable Knight dealt a stroke on his head, which, 
 glancing from the polished helmet, lighted with violence 
 scarcely abated on the cliamfron of the steed, and Front- 
 de-Boeuf rolled on the ground, both horse and man equally 
 stunned by the fury of the blow. Le Noir Faineant then 
 turned his horse upon Athelstane of Coningsburgh; and his 
 own sword having been broken in his encounter with Front- 
 de-Boeuf, he wrenched from the hand of the bulky Saxon 
 the battle-ax which he wielded, 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 ex- 
 
128 IVANHOE. 
 
 tremity of the lists, leaving his leader to cope as he best 
 could with Brian de Bois-Guilbert. This was no longer a 
 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-Guilbert 
 rolled on the field, encumbered with the stirrup, from 
 which he was unable to draw his foot. His antagonist 
 sprang from- horseback, waved his fatal sword over the 
 head of his adversary, and commanded him to yield him- 
 self; 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 van- 
 quished, 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 con- 
 sent, 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 to the 
 quarters prepared for them in the adjoining village. 
 
 Thus ended the memorable field of Ashby-de-la-Zouche, 
 one of the most gallantly contested tournaments of that 
 age; for although four knights, including one that was 
 smothered by the heat of his armor, had died upon the 
 field, yet upward of thirty were desperately wounded, four 
 or five of whom never recovered. Several more were dis- 
 abled 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 Faineant. 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 
 
IVAN30B. 1^9 
 
 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 Dis- 
 inherited 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 ob- 
 served 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 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 trumpets 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 clamor- 
 ous shout of exultation, the marshals conducted the Disin- 
 herited Knight across the lists to the foot of that throne of 
 honor which was occupied by the Lady Bowena. 
 
 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 im- 
 pulse 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. Kowena, descending from 
 
130 IVAmOE. ' 
 
 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 muttered faintly a few words, which was lost 
 in the hollow of his helmet, but their purport seemed to be 
 a desire that his casque might not be removed. 
 
 Whether from love of form, or from curiosity, the mar- 
 shals paid no attention to his expressions of reluctance, 
 but unhelmed him by cutting the laces of his casque, 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, amid a profusion 
 of short fair hair. His countenance was as pale as 
 death, and marked in one or two places with streaks of 
 blood. 
 
 Eowena 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 dis- 
 tinct tone, these words: "I bestow on thee this chaplet, 
 Sir Knight, as the meed of valor 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 re- 
 warded; and then, sinking yet further forward, lay pros- 
 trate at her feet. 
 
 There was a general consternation. Cedric, who had 
 been struck mute by the sudden appearance of his ban- 
 ished son, now rushed forward, as if to separate him 
 from Eowena. But this had been already accomplished 
 by the marshals 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 breast- 
 plate, and inflicted a wound in his side. 
 
tVAmott. i3i 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 " ' Heroes, approach !' Atrides thus aloud, 
 
 ' Stand forth distinguished from the circling crowd, 
 Ye who by skill or manly force may claim, 
 Tour 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 Prior, what think ye of the doc- 
 trine 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." 
 
 " Front-de-Bceuf must prepare 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. 
 
 "Ay," answered Waldemar Fitzurse, "this gallant is 
 likely to reclaim the castle and manor which Richard 
 assigned to him, and which your highness' generosity 
 has since given to Front-de-Boeuf." 
 
 "Front-de-Bceuf," replied John, "is a man more will- 
 ing to swallow three manors such as Ivanhoe than to dis- 
 gorge 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 per- 
 form 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." 
 
132 IVANBOE. 
 
 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, expect- 
 ants 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 Aymer also assented to the 
 general proposition, observing, however, "That the 
 blessed Jerusalem could not indeed be termed a foreign 
 country. She was Communis 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 Eichard, had never proceeded much further than 
 Askalon, 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 toward 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 Front-de-Bceuf 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. * "Wal- 
 demar Fitzurse 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?" 
 
IVANHOE. 133 
 
 " A Saxon heiress of large possessions," replied the Prior 
 Aymer; "a rose of loveliness, and a jewel of wealth; the 
 fairest among a thousand, a bundle of myrrh, and a 
 cluster of camphire." 
 
 "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 sayst thou, De Bracy? What thinkst 
 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 fulfill all promises made in favor 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 Kowena and 
 her company — that is, the rude churl 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 
 summons 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 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 flox-silk with 
 which the billet was surrounded, and which bore the im- 
 pression 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: 
 
1U lYAtfBOti. 
 
 " Take heed to yourself, for the Devil is Unchained." 
 
 The Prince turned as pale as death, looked first on the 
 earth, and then to heaven, like a man who has received news 
 that sentence of execution has been passed upon him. Re- 
 covering from the first effects of his surprise, he took Wal- 
 demar Fitzurse 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 a false alarm, or a forged letter," said De 
 Bracy. 
 
 "It is France's own hand and seal," replied Prince John. 
 
 " It is time, then," said Fitzurse, " 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 high- 
 ness 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 Waldemar, " 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 fulfillment of the 
 Prince's promises, so far as this herd of Saxon serfs is 
 concerned." 
 
 "I thank thee, Waldemar," 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 re- 
 venge and to pleasure. Let new cares come with to-mor- 
 row's new day." 
 
 The sound of the trumpets soon recalled those specta- 
 tors who had already begun to leave the field ; and proc- 
 lamation was made that Prince John, suddenly called by 
 high and peremptory public duties, held himself obliged 
 to discontinue the entertainments of to-morrow's festi- 
 val. Nevertheless, unwilling that so many good yeo- 
 men 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 
 
IVANHOB. 135 
 
 ornamented with a 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 Keedwood and Charnwood. 
 When, however, the archers understood with whom they 
 were to be matched, upward of twenty withdrew them- 
 selves from the contest, unwilling to encounter the dishonor 
 of almost certain defeat* For in those days the skill of 
 each celebrated marksman was as well known for many 
 miles round him as the qualities of a horse trained at New- 
 market 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 yeo- 
 men, several of whom wore the royal livery. Having sat- 
 isfied 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 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 in- 
 dividual. 
 
 " Because," replied the woodman, " I know not if these 
 yeomen 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 
 
136 1VANH0K 
 
 skill. If thou earnest 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. Neverthe- 
 less, 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 re- 
 freshment 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 Mal- 
 voisin, who was accordingly pronounced victorious. 
 
IVANEOE. 137 
 
 " Now, Locksley," said Prince John to the bold yeoman, 
 with a bitter smile, "wilt thou try conclusions with 
 Hubert, or wilt thou yield up bow, baldric 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 long-bow at Hastings, and I trust not to 
 dishonor 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 sta- 
 tion, 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 in the target two inches nearer to the white spot 
 which marked the center than that of Hubert. 
 
 " By the light of heaven !" said Prince John to Hubert, 
 " an' thou suffer that runagate knave to overcome thee, 
 thou are worthy of the gallows !" 
 
 Hubert had but one set speech for all occasions. " An' 
 your highness were to hang me," he said, " a man can but 
 do his best. Nevertheless, my graudsire drew a good, 
 bow——" 
 
138 IVANEOE. 
 
 " The foul fiend on thy 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 neg- 
 lecting the caution which he had received from his ad- 
 versary, he made the necessary allowance for a very light 
 air of wind, which had just arisen, and shot so successfully 
 that his arrow alighted in the very center 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 forever!" 
 
 " Thou canst not mend that shot, Locksley," said the 
 Prince, with an insulting smile. 
 
 " I will notch his shaft for him, however," replied Locks- 
 ley. 
 
 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 in their usual 
 clamor. 
 
 " 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 yeoman 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. 
 
 Locksley 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 
 
IVANHOE. 139 
 
 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 
 a headless 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, an it were the stout King Eichard himself." 
 
 " My grandsire," said Hubert, " drew a good bow at the 
 battle of Hastings, and never shot at 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 but do 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 twink- 
 ling white streak which I can hardly see." 
 
 " Cowardly dog!" said Prince John. " Sirrah, Locksley, 
 do thou shoot; but if thou hittest such a mark, I will say 
 thou art the first man ever did so. Howe'er it be, thou 
 shalt not crow over us with a mere show of superior skill." 
 
 "I will do my best, as Hubert says," answered Locksley; 
 " 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 multi- 
 tude 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 accla- 
 mations 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 body guard, 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 
 
140 1VANHOE. 
 
 vowed, that if ever I take service, it should be with your 
 royal brother King Eichard. 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 press- 
 ing 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 mayest shew 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. 
 
I7ANH0E. 141 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " In rough magnificence array'd, 
 When ancient Chivalry display'd 
 The pomp of her heroic games, 
 And crested chiefs and tissued dames 
 Assembled at the clarion's call, 
 In some proud castle's high arch'd hall." 
 
 — Warton. 
 
 Pkincb John held his high festival in the Castle of 
 Ashby. This was not the same building of which the 
 stately ruins still interest the traveler, 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 Shakespeare's characters than by his historical 
 fame. The castle and town of Ashby, at this time, be- 
 longed to Roger de Quincy, 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 mag- 
 nificence, 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 de- 
 graded on ordinary occasions, the great numbers of the 
 Anglo-Saxons must necessarily render them formidable 
 in, the civil commotions which seemed approaching, and 
 
142 IVANHO& 
 
 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 unwonted 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 misfor- 
 tune 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 inhab- 
 itants of that new and important acquisition to the Eng- 
 lish crown. Upon this occasion the Irish chieftains con- 
 tended 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 pull- 
 ing 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 conse- 
 quences to the English domination in Ireland. It is neces- 
 sary 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 Athelstane with distinguished courtesy, and expressed 
 his disappointment, without resentment, when the indis- 
 position of Eowena was alleged by the former as a reason 
 for her not attending upon his gracious summons. Cedric 
 and Athelstane 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 
 Waldemar Pitzurse 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, 
 
IVANHOE. 143 
 
 whose under garment was a long doublet, so loose as to 
 resemble a shirt or waggoner'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 
 inconveniencies 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 frost." 
 
 Nevertheless, 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 wastle 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 nobles 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 
 
144 IVANEOE. 
 
 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 demeanor of Athelstane and Cedric at a banquet, to 
 the form and fashion of which they were unaccustomed. 
 And while their manners were thus the subject of sarcas- 
 tic observation, the untaught Saxons unwittingly trans- 
 gressed 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 grace- 
 fully in the air, incurred more ridicule than his com- 
 panion Athelstane when he swallowed to his own single 
 share the whole of a large pasty, composed of the most ex- 
 quisite foreign delicacies, and termed at that time a Karum- 
 pie. When, however, it was discovered, by a serious cross- 
 examination, that the Thane of Coningsburgh (or Frank- 
 lin, as the Normans termed him) had no idea what he had 
 been devouring, and that he had taken the contents of 
 the Karum-pie for larks and pigeons, whereas they were 
 in fact beccaficoes 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 mili- 
 tary 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 agita- 
 ting his mind, and ib 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. 
 
IVANEOE. 145 
 
 would start up, quaS 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 this beaker," said he, "to the health of Wil- 
 fred 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 Rother- 
 wood, the worthy father of a son so promising." 
 
 "No, my lord," replied Cedric, standing up, and plac- 
 ing 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 un- 
 worthy or disobedient son !" 
 
 " Yet, my lord," answered Cedric, " so it is with this 
 Wilfred. He left my homely 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 — 
 ay, 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 filial disobedience." 
 
 Thus spake Prince John, wilfully forgetting that of all 
 the sons of Henry the Second, 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 favorite the rich 
 manor of Ivanhoe." 
 
 "He did endow him with it," answered Cedric, "nor is 
 it my least quarrel with my son that he stooped 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 Eeginald Front-de-Bceuf," 
 
146 IVANSOB. 
 
 he said, turning toward that Baron, " I trust you will so 
 keep the goodly Barony of Ivanhoe that Sir Wilfred shall 
 not incur his father's displeasure by again entering upon 
 that fief." 
 
 "By St. Anthony!" answered the black-hrowed giant, 
 " I will consent that your highness shall hold me a Saxon, 
 if either Cedric, or Wilfred, or the hest 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 honor as great as it is 
 undeserved." 
 
 Front-de-Boeuf 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 longi- 
 tude 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 Prior Aymer, " the superior decency and deco- 
 rum 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 offense which he had received, 
 
IVANBOE. 147 
 
 " Whatever," he said, " have been the follies and vices of 
 our race, a Saxon would have been held nidering" * (the 
 most emphatic term for abject worthlessness), "who 
 should, in his own hall, and while his own wine-cup 
 passed, have treated, or suffered to be treated, an uuofEend- 
 ing 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 Front-de-Boeuf and the Templar, " who have 
 within these few hours once and again lost saddle and 
 stirrup before the lance of a Saxon." 
 
 " 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 weapons but our hunting spears to 
 bring these boars to bay." 
 
 " A truce with your raillery, Sir Knights," said Fitz- 
 urse — "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 demeanor; " 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 im- 
 pression 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 
 
 * There was nothing accounted', so ignominious among the Sax- 
 ons as to merit this disgraceful epithet. Even William the Con- 
 queror, hated av he was by them, continued to draw a considerable 
 army of Anglo- i sons to his standard by threatening to stigmatize 
 those who stayed at home as nidering. Bartholinus, I think, mentions 
 a similar phrase which had like influence on the Danes. — L. T. 
 
148 IVANEOB. 
 
 prior insult. He was silent, however, when the royal 
 pledge again passed round, "To Sir Athelstane of Con- 
 ingsburgh." 
 
 The knight made his obeisance, and showed his sense of 
 the honor by draining a huge goblet in answer to it. 
 
 "And now, sirs," said Prince John, who began to be 
 warmed with the wine he had drank, "having done justice 
 to our Saxon guests, we will pray of them some requital to 
 our courtesy. Worthy Thane," 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?" 
 
 Fitzurse arose while Prince John spoke, and gliding be- 
 hind 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 re- 
 plied 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 ban- 
 quet. This, perchance, is a hard task, since it calls on the 
 slave to sing the praises of the master — upon the van- 
 quished, 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 Eichard the Lion-hearted I" 
 
 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 demeanor 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 
 
IVANHOE. 149 
 
 some few, among whom were Front-de-Bceuf 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 Athelstane ! 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 oar fathers, since we 
 have seen enough of royal banquets, and enough of Nor- 
 man courtesy." 
 
 So saying, he arose and left the banqueting room, fol- 
 lowed by Athelstane, and by several other guests, who, par- 
 taking 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." 
 
 " They are breaking up," said the Prince, in a whisper 
 to Fitzurse; "their fears anticipate the event, and the 
 coward Prior is the first to shrink from me." 
 
 " Pear not, my lord," said Waldemar ; " I will shew 
 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 Fitzurse ; 
 " 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 counselor ; " I might 
 retort your accusation, and blame the inconsiderate levity 
 which foiled my design, and misled your own better judg- 
 ment. 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 
 
i50 1VANBO& 
 
 apartment with disordered steps, and exj>ressing 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 Pitzurse to De Bracy ? " 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." 
 
1VANH0R 151 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " And yet he thinks — ha, ha, ha, ha — he thinks 
 I am the tool and servant of his will. 
 Well, let it be ; through all the maze of trouble 
 His plots and base oppression must create, 
 I'll shape myself away to higher things, 
 And who will say 'tis wrong !" 
 
 — Basil, a Tragedy. 
 
 ~No spider ever took more pains to repair the shattered 
 meshes of his web than did Waldemar Fitzurse 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 Fitzurse should open to them new prospects of advan- 
 tage, and remind them of those which they at present en- 
 joyed. 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 of 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 Fitzurse, "he returns to en- 
 rich his needy and impoverished crusaders at the expense of 
 those who did not follow him to the Holy Land. He 
 
152 IVANHOE. 
 
 returns to call to a fearful reckoning those who, during his 
 absence, have done aught that can be construed offence or 
 encroachment upon either the laws of the land or the privi- 
 leges of the crown. He returns 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 ad- 
 herent 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 struggled 
 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 de- 
 cidedly certain than that of Duke Robert of Normandy, 
 the Conquerer's eldest son? And yet, William the Red, 
 and Henry, his second and third brothers, were successively 
 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 
 conquerer of the Holy Sepulchre; and yet he died a blind 
 and miserable prisoner in 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, cor- 
 recting 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 
 
IVANHOE. 153 
 
 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, 
 Fitzurse, 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 head-piece, 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 Fitzurse 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 atten- 
 tion, and recognized the Norman knight in the dress of an 
 English yeoman. 
 
 " What mummery is this, De Bracy ?" said Fitzurse, 
 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 Eichard terrifies, as it is said, to do the 
 children of the Saracens ?" 
 
 "I have been attendingtomine own business," answered 
 De Bracy, calmly, "as you, Fitzurse, have been minding 
 yours. 
 
 " I minding mine own business !" echoed Waldemar ; 
 " I have been engaged in that of Prince John, our joint 
 patron." 
 
 " As if thou hast any other reason for that, Waldemar;" 
 said De Bracy, "than the promotion of thine own indi- 
 vidual interest ? Come, Fitzurse, 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 tyran- 
 nical 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 Fitzurse 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." 
 
154 IVANEOB. 
 
 " A hopeful auxiliary," said Fitzurse, impatiently; "play- 
 ing the fool in the very moment of utter necessity. What 
 on earth dost thou propose 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 Fitzurse; " I comprehend 
 thee not." 
 
 "Wert thou not in presence yester-even/' said De Bracy, 
 " when we heard the Prior Aymer 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 Holy Father, the youth 
 of the tribe of Benjamin carried off from a superb tourna- 
 ment 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 Fitzurse, " though either 
 the Prior or thou hast 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 Fitzurse. "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 honor 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 Fitzurse; " the ap- 
 proaching crisis renders the favor of the multitude indis- 
 pensable, and Prince John cannot refuse justice to any 
 one who injures their favorites." 
 
IVANHOE 155 
 
 "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 blew 
 horn? The blame of the violence shall rest with the out- 
 laws of the Yorkshire forests. I have sure spies on the 
 Saxon's motions. To-night they sleep in the convent of 
 Saint Wittol, or Withold, or whatever they call that churl 
 of a Saxon saint at Burtou-on-Trent. Next day's march 
 brings them within our reach, and, falcon-ways, we swoop 
 on them at once. Presently after I will appear in mine 
 own shape, play the courteous knight, rescue the unfor- 
 tunate and afflicted fair one from the hands of the rude 
 ravishers, conduct her to Front-de-Boeuf's castle, or to Nor- 
 mandy, if it should be necessary, and produce her not 
 again to her kindred until she be the bride and dame of 
 Maurice De Bracy." 
 
 "A marvelously sage plan," said Fitzurse; "and, as I 
 think, not entirely of thy 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 the Templar Brian de Bois-Guilbert that shaped out 
 the enterprise, which the adventure of the men of Benja- 
 min 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 halidome," said Fitzurse, " 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 thou wilt rescue her afterward 
 from the clutches of Bois-Gruilbert 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 there- 
 fore rival me in my plan of wedding this heiress; and to 
 attempt aught dishonorable against the intended bride of 
 
156 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 nought that I can say," said Fitzurse, 
 " 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. Fitzurse, looking after 
 him; "like a true 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 ad- 
 vantage? For that of a Prince as unwise as he is profli- 
 gate, 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 Waldemar Fitzurse!" and, with 
 bonnet doffed, the future Chancellor (for to such high pre- 
 ferment did the wily Norman aspire) hastened to receive 
 the orders of the future sovereign. 
 
IYANHOE, 157 
 
 CHAPTBE 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 ; 
 Eemote from man, with God he passed his days, 
 Prayer all his business — all his pleasure praise." 
 
 — PwrneU. 
 
 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 Faineant. 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 pre- 
 ceding 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 Eiding of Yorkshire. By this 
 time both horse and man required refreshment, and it be- 
 came necessary, moreover, to look out for some place in 
 which they might spend the night, which was now fast 
 approaching. 
 
±58 IVANHOE. 
 
 The place where the traveler found himself seemed un- 
 
 Eropitious for obtaining either shelter or refreshment, and 
 e 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 take to pursue his 
 journey was as likely to lead him out of his road as to ad- 
 vance him on his route. After having in vain endeavored 
 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 un- 
 able 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 knight during the day; but as the 
 horse seemed confident in his choice, the rider abandoned 
 himself to his discretion. 
 
IVANHOE. 159 
 
 He was justified by the event; for the foot-path 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 of 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 its 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 build- 
 ing, 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 mold- 
 ing, 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. 
 
160 IVANHOE. 
 
 The whole peaceful and quiet scene lay glimmering in 
 twilight before the eyes of the traveler, giving him good 
 assurance of lodging for the night; since it was a special 
 duty of those hermits who dwelt in the woods to exercise 
 hospitality toward benighted or bewildered passengers. 
 
 Accordingly, the knight took no time to consider mi- 
 nutely the particulars which we have detailed, but thanking 
 St. Julian (the patron of travelers) who had sent him good 
 harborage, 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 Saint 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 hermit- 
 age, "it has pleased Our Lady and Saint Dunstan to des- 
 tine me for the object of those virtues, instead of the exer- 
 cise thereof. I have no provisions here which even a dog 
 would share with me, aud 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 forme 
 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 
 the 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, mis- 
 erable 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 
 
IVANBOB. 161 
 
 a ford, which, as the rains have abated, may now be pass- 
 able. 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 
 lately, 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 rood, I will beat it down and make entry 
 for myself." 
 
 " Friend wayfarer," replied the hermit, " be not import- 
 unate ; if thou puttest me to use the carnal weapon in 
 mine own defense, it will be e'en the worse for you." 
 
 At this moment a distant noise of barking and growling, 
 which the traveler had for some time heard, became ex- 
 tremely 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 clamor to aid 
 him in his defense, 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 traveler, 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 knight. 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 grey- 
 hound, half mastiff, stood ready to rush upon the traveler 
 as soon as the door should be opened. But when the torch 
 
162 IVAmOR 
 
 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 honor 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. 
 
 "Keverend 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 I am to put my horse? 
 secondly, what I can have for supper? thirdly, where I 
 am 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 neighbor- 
 ing 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 compas- 
 sion 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 afterward shook 
 down a quantity of dried fern in the corner which he had 
 assigned for the rider's conch. 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, fur- 
 nished with teeth which might have ranked with those of 
 a boar 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 and blue eyes. 
 
 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 pri- 
 vations; on the contrary, it wa3 a bold bluff counte- 
 nance, 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 
 
164 tVANBOE. 
 
 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 neces- 
 sary 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 sun and sun, 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 moderate in quantity than his encomium 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 
 marvelously. You appear a man more fit to win the ram 
 at a wrestling-match, or the ring at a bout at quarter-staff, 
 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 patron saint to bless the pit- 
 tance to which I restrain myself, even as the pulse and 
 water was blessed to the children Shadrach, Meshech, and 
 Abednego, who drank the same rather than defile them- 
 selves with the wine and meats which were appointed them 
 by the King of the Saracens." 
 
 "Holy father," said the knight, "upon whose coun- 
 tenance 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 honor- 
 able guest?" 
 
 "Truly," said the knight, "Holy Clerk of Copman- 
 hurst, 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." 
 
IVANROE. 165 
 
 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 camps, and 
 the luxuries of cities; and now I bethink thee, Sir Slug- 
 gard, 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 had escaped me amid 
 my more weighty meditations." 
 
 " I dare 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 ever 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 pro- 
 visions upon the table), "and refrain from mending thy 
 cheer. •> Let us see 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 irresist- 
 ibly 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 poniard 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. 
 
166 tVAtrme. 
 
 "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 furnished this 
 venison had been running on foot within the week." 
 
 The hermit was somewhat discountenanced by this 
 observation ; and, moreover, he had made but a poor 
 figure while gazing on the diminution of the pasty 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 wholesorneness of his food, by partaking 
 of it along with him. Par be it from me to suspect so 
 holy a man of aught so 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 in- 
 stantly, in the bowels of the pasty. 
 
 The ice of ceremony being once broken, it seemed mat- 
 ter 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 sur- 
 passed him. 
 
 " Holy Clerk," said the knight, when his hunger was 
 appeased, " I would gage my good horse yonder against a 
 zecchin, that that same honest keeper, to whom we are 
 obliged for the venison, has left thee a stoup of wine or a 
 runlet of canary, 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 con- 
 jecture." 
 
 The hermit replied by a grin ; and returning to the 
 hutch, he produced a leathern bottle, which might con- 
 tain about four quarts. He also brought forth two large 
 drinking cups, made out of the horn of the urus, and 
 
IVANHOE. 167 
 
 hooped with silver. Having made this goodly provision 
 for washing down the supper, he seemed to think no 
 further ceremonious scruple necessary on his part; but 
 filling both cups, and saying, in the Saxon fashion, " Waes 
 hael, Sir Sluggish Knight ! " he emptied his own at a 
 draught. 
 
 "Brink 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 pos- 
 sessed of such thews and sinews as thine, and who there- 
 withal shows the talent of so goodly a trencher-man, 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 Saint Dunstan's chap- 
 lain." 
 
 " 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, an 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 dun 
 deer that feed in the glades — Eesolve me, Holy Clerk, hast 
 thou never practiced such a pastime?" 
 
 "Friend Sluggard," answered the hermit, "thou hast 
 seen all that can 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 
 
168 IVANEOB. 
 
 more curious than ever! Thou art the most mysterious 
 hermit I ever met; and I will know more of thee ere v/6 
 part. As for thy threats, know, 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 and 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 G-oliah, at which I am not a match for thee. But if I 
 am to make the election, what sayst 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 an answer to all my inquiries; and I see a 
 weapon there" (here he stooped and took out the harp) 
 " on which I would more gladly prove my skill with thee, 
 than at the sword 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 serve the chapel of 
 
IVANHOE. 169 
 
 St. Dunstan, which, please God, shall be till I change my 
 grav covering for one of green turf. But come, fill a 
 flagon, for it will crave some time to tune the harp; and 
 nought pitches the voice and sharpens the ear like a cup 
 of wine. For my part, 1 love to feel the grape at my very 
 finger ends before they make the harpstrings tinkle."* 
 
 * The Jolly Hermit. — All the readers, however slightly 
 acquainted with hlack letter, must recognize in the Clerk of Copman- 
 hurst, Friar Tuck, the buxom confessor of Robin Hood's gang, the 
 Curtal Friar of Fountain's Abbey. 
 
1110 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ** At eve, within yon studious nook, 
 I ope my brass-embossed book. 
 Portray'd with many a holy deed 
 Or martys crown'd with heavenly meed ; 
 Then, as my taper waxes dim, 
 Chant, ere I sleep, my measured hymn. 
 * * # * * 
 
 Who but would cast his pomp away, 
 To take my staff and amice grey, 
 And to the world's tumultuous stage, 
 Prefer the peaceful Hermitage ?" 
 
 — Wwton. 
 
 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 
 shews thee a master of the craft. Wine and wassail," he 
 added, gravely casting up his eyes, "all the fault of wine 
 and wassail! I told Allan-a-Dale, 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 siroente in the language of oc, 
 or a lai in the language of oui, or a virelai, or a ballad in 
 the vulgar English.* 
 
 "A ballad, a ballad," said the hermit, "against all the 
 
 *gee Jfqte D, Minstrelsy, 
 
IVANHOE. 171 
 
 ocs and ouis of France. Downright English am I, Sir 
 Knight, and downright English was my patron St. Dunstan, 
 and scorned oc and out as he would have scorned the 
 parings of the devil's hoof. Downright English alone 
 shall be sung in this cell." 
 
 ct I will assay, then," said the knight, "a ballad com- 
 posed by a Saxon glee-man, whom I knew in the Holy 
 Land." 
 
 It speedily appeared that if the knight was not a com- 
 plete 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 now a 
 degree of spirit, and now of plaintive enthusiasm, which 
 gave force and energy to the verses which he sung. 
 
 THE CRUSADER'S RETURN. 
 
 High deeds achieved of knightly fame, 
 From Palestine the champion came ; 
 The cross upon his shoulders borne. 
 Battle and blast had dimm'd and torn. 
 Each dint upon his batter'd 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 hope of Tekla's smile ! 
 
 " Joy to the fair ! whose constant knight 
 
 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 won 
 
 The listed fields at Askalon I 
 
V72 IVANHOB. 
 
 " ' Note well her smile ! — it edged the blade 
 
 ■ Which fifty wives to widows made, 
 
 When, vain his strength and Mahound's spell, 
 Iconium's turban'd Soldan fell, 
 Seest thou her locks, whose sunny glow 
 Half shews, half shades, her neck of snow ? 
 Twines not of them one golden thread, 
 But for its sake a Paynim bled.' 
 
 " Joy to the fair ! — my name unknown 
 Each deed, and all its praise thine own ; 
 Then, oh ! unbar this churlish gate, 
 The night dew 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 anon, 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 ap- 
 proved. When the song was ended, the anchorite emphat- 
 ically declared it 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 with 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 
 
IVANSOE. 173 
 
 pagans did he baptise there, but I never heard that he 
 drank any of it. Everything should be put to its proper 
 use in this world. St. Dunstan knew, as well as any one, 
 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.* 
 
 THE BAREFOOTED FEIAK. 
 
 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 prick'd through with a spear ; 
 
 I confess him in haste — for his lady desires 
 
 No comfort on earth save the Barefooted Friar's. 
 
 Tour monarch ? — Pshaw ! 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 gray hood of a Friar. 
 
 The Friar has walk'd out, and where'er he has gone, 
 The land and its fatness is mark'd for his own ; 
 He can roam where he lists, he can stop when he tires, 
 For every man's house is the Barefooted Friar's. 
 
 He's expected at noon, and no wight till he comes 
 May profane the great chair, or the porridge of plums ; 
 For the best of the cheer, and a seat by the fire, 
 Is the undenied right of the Barefooted Friar. 
 
 He's expected at night, and the pasty's made hot, ' 
 
 They broach the brown ale, and they fill the black pot, 
 And the goodwife would wish the goodman in the mire, 
 Ere he lack'd a soft pillow, the Barefooted Friar. 
 
 Long flourished 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 alone to the Barefooted Friar. 
 
 * 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. 
 
174 IVANHOE. 
 
 " By my troth," said the knight, " thou hast sung well 
 and lustily, and in high praise of thine order. And, talk- 
 ing of the devil, Holy Olerk, are you not afraid he may 
 pay you a visit during some of your uncanonical pastimes?" 
 
 "I 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, 
 paters " 
 
 " Excepting moonlight nights, when the venison is in 
 season," said his guest. 
 
 " Exceptis 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 tongs 
 of Saint Dunstan himself did. I never feared man, and I 
 as little fear the devil and his imps. Saint Dunstan, 
 Saint Dubric, Saint Winibald, Saint Winifred, Saint 
 Swibert, Saint Willick, not forgetting Saint 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 con- 
 tinuing uniformly to keep company with any one person- 
 age of our drama. 
 
IVANHOE. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " Away ! our journey lies through dell and dingle, 
 Where the blithe fawn trips by its timid mother, 
 Where the broad oak, with intercepting boughs, 
 Chequers the sunbeam in the greensward alley — 
 Up and away I 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, how- 
 ever, was anticipated in this good office. The crowd dis- 
 persed, indeed, but the knight was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 It was in vain that Cedric's cup-bearer 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 Ivan- 
 hoe's disappearance, had he not suddenly cast his eyes 
 upon a person attired like a squire, in whom he recognized 
 the features of his fellow-servant Gurth. Anxious con- 
 cerning his master's fate, and in despair at his sudden dis- 
 appearance, the translated swineherd was searching for 
 him everywhere, and had neglected, in doing so, the con- 
 cealment on which his own safety depended. Oswald 
 deemed it his duty to secure Gurth, as a fugitive of whose 
 fate his master was to judge. 
 
176 IVANHOE. 
 
 Eenewing his inquiries concerning the fate of Ivanhoe, 
 the only information which the cup-bearer could collect 
 from the by-standers, 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 further instructions, carrying along with him 
 Gurth, 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 Ivan- 
 hoe was in careful, and probably in 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 disobe- 
 dience. " 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 chiv- 
 alry than to maintain the fame and honor of his English 
 ancestry with the glaive and brown-bill, the good old 
 weapons of his country." 
 
 "If, to maintain the honor of ancestry," said Kowena, 
 who was present, "it is sufficient to be wise in council 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 Eowena ! — on this subject only I hear 
 you not. Prepare yourself for the Prince's festival; we 
 have been summoned thither with unwonted circumstance 
 of honor 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 Nor- 
 mans how little the fate of a son, who could defeat their 
 bravest, can affect a Saxon." 
 
 " Thither," said Eowena, " do I not go; and I pray you 
 to beware, lest what you mean for courage and obstinacy 
 shall be accounted hardness of heart." 
 
 " Eemain at home, then, ungrateful lady," said Cedric; 
 " thine is the hard heart, which can sacrifice the weal of 
 
IVAFHOE. 17? 
 
 an oppressed people to an idle and unauthorized attach- 
 ment. I seek the noble Athelstane, and with him attend 
 the banquet of John of Anjou." 
 
 He went according to the banquet, of which we have 
 already mentioned the principal events. Immediately upon 
 retiring from the castle, the Saxon thanes, with their at- 
 tendants took horse; and it was during the bustle which 
 attended their doing to, that Cedric, for the first time, cast 
 his eyes upon the deserter Gurth. The noble Saxon had 
 returned from the banquet, as we have seen, in no very 
 placid humor, and wanted but a pretext for wreaking his 
 anger upon some one. " The gyves!" he said, "the gyves! 
 — Oswald — Hundibert — Dogs and villains ! — why leave you 
 the knave unfettered?" 
 
 Without daring to remonstrate, the companions of Gurth 
 bound him with a halter, as the readiest cord which 
 occurred. He submitted to the operation without remon- 
 strance, except that, darting a reproachful look at his mas- 
 ter, he said, " This comes of loving ypur flesh and blood 
 better than mine own." 
 
 " To horse and forward !" said Cedric. 
 
 " It is indeed full time," said the noble Athelstane; " for 
 if we ride not the faster, the worthy Abbot Waltheoff's 
 preparations for a rere-supper* will be altogether spoiled." 
 
 The travelers, however,' used such speed as to reach the 
 convent of St. Withold's before the apprehended evil took 
 place. The Abbot, himself of ancient Saxon descent, re- 
 ceived 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 supersti- 
 tious 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 
 
 * A rere-supper was a night meal, and sometimes signified a col- 
 lation which was given at a late hour, after the regular supper had 
 made its appearance. — L. T. 
 
m IVANMOE. 
 
 being a mixed race, and better informed according to the 
 information of the times, had lost m,ost of the superstitious 
 prejudices whicli their ancestors had brought from Scandi- 
 navia, 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 
 afterward, barking wildly, and jumping to and fro, 
 seemed bent upon attaching itself to the party. 
 
 " I like not that music, father Cedric," said Athelstane; 
 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 Athelstane, upon whose memory 
 the Abbot's good ale (for Burton was already famous for 
 that genial liquor) had made a favorable 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 Gurth, 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 poor Fangs — for Fangs it was, who, having 
 traced his master thus far upon his stolen expedition, had 
 here lost him, and was now, in his uncouth way, rejoicing 
 at his reappearance. The javelin inflicted a wound upon 
 the animal's shoulder, and narrowly missed pining him to 
 the earth; and Fangs fled howling from the presence of 
 the enraged thane. Gurth'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-humor, had prudently retreated to the rear, 
 " I pray thee, do me the kindness to wipe my eyes with 
 
tVANSOM. 176 
 
 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 Gurth 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 Gurth 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 Gurth the son of Beowulph 
 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 Gurth, "how soon he makes a 
 mark of me. Yesterday he left Wilfred, 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 kind- 
 ness. By St. Edmund, St. Dunstan, St. Withold, 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 fre- 
 quently 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, re- 
 ceived a scratch, which I will be bound to heal with a 
 penny's breadth of tar." 
 
 "If I thought so/' said Gurth' — "if I could but think 
 so — but no — I saw the javelin was well aimed — I heard it 
 whizz through the air with all the wrathful malevolence 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!" 
 
180 IVANEOE. 
 
 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 the oppressed Saxons might be able to free them- 
 selves 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 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 evi- 
 dent in itself, but had been made a solemn condition by 
 those whom Cedric had entrusted with his secret plans and 
 hopes. Athelstane had this quality at least; and though 
 he had few mental accomplishments or talents to recom- 
 mend him as a 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-natured. But 
 whatever pretensions Athelstane had to be considered as 
 head of the Saxon confederacy, many of that nation were 
 disposed to prefer to his the title of the Lady Eowena, 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 bis oppressed country- 
 men. 
 
 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, activ- 
 ity, 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 
 
IVANHOE. 181 
 
 Athelstane and his ward. These qualities, however, were 
 unalloyed by the slightest shade of selfishness; and, instead 
 of dividing yet further his weakened nation by forming a 
 faction of his own, it was a leading part of Oedric's plan 
 to extinguish that which already existed by promoting a 
 marriage betwixt Rowena and Athelstane. An obstacle 
 occurred to this, his favorite project, in the mutual attach- 
 ment 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 hopes that, 
 during Wilfred's absence, Eowena might relinquish her 
 preference, but in this hope he was disappointed; a disap- 
 pointment which might be attributed in part to the mode 
 in which his ward had been educated. Cedric, to whom 
 the name of Alfred was always 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. Eowena's will 
 had been in almost all cases a law to his household; and 
 Cedric himself, as if determined that her sovereignity 
 should be fully acknowledged within that 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 des- 
 potic 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 inclina'tions, and to assert her independence in a case 
 in which even those females who have been trained up to 
 obedience and subjection are not unfrequently apt to dis- 
 pute the authority of guardians and parents. The opin- 
 ions 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 
 avdwed preference of Wilfred of Ivanhoe, she declared 
 that, were that favored knight out of question, she would 
 
182 IVAtfBoE. 
 
 rather take refuge in a convent than share a throne with 
 Athelstane, 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 woman's con- 
 stancy 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 de- 
 termined effort for the union of Athelstane and Eowena, 
 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. Athelstane, it 
 is true, was vain enough, and loved to have his ears 
 tickled with tales of 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 inde- 
 pendence, 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 "Athelstane 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 produce a little sound and smoke, and 
 are instantly extinguished. 
 
 If, leaving this task, which might be compared to spur- 
 ring a tired jade, or to hammering upon cold iron, Cedric 
 
1VAN30M. 183 
 
 fell back to his ward Kowena, he received little more satis- 
 faction from conferring with he?. For, as his presence 
 interrupted the discourse between the lady and her favorite 
 attendant upon the gallantry and fate of Wilfred, Elgitha 
 failed not to revenge both her mistress and herself, by re- 
 curring 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 ren- 
 dered it impossible for them to hope to reach Rotherwood 
 without traveling all night, a conviction which induced 
 them to proceed on their way at a more hasty pace than 
 they had hitherto used. 
 
184 IVANEOB. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 " A train of armed men, some noble dame 
 Escorting (so their scatter'd words discover'd, 
 As unperceived I hung upon their rear), 
 Are close at hand, and mean to pass the night 
 Within the castle." 
 
 — Orra, 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 de- 
 spair, 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 
 Wambaand Gurth, whose aid could not be counted 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 Athelstane relied on their descent and charac- 
 ter, 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, be- 
 side which sat a young woman, richly dressed in the 
 Jewish fashion, while an old man, whose yellow cap pro- 
 claimed 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 Athelstane and Cedric, the old Jew 
 
IVANHOE. 185 
 
 could for some time only answer by invoking the protec- 
 tion 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 body-guard 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 wood-cutter 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 proba- 
 bly 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 humili- 
 ation, " tp permit the poor Jews to travel under your safe- 
 guard, 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 no more gratefully acknowl- 
 edged." 
 
 " Dog of a Jew!" said Athelstane, whose memory was of 
 that petty kind which stores up trifles of all kinds, but 
 particularly trifling offences, " 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 com- 
 panion. " 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 Athelstane, and 
 the aid of those who remain, it will be light work for us to 
 face twenty of those runagates." 
 
 Eowena, somewhat alarmed by the mention of outlaws 
 in force, and so near them, strongly seconded the proposal 
 of her guardian. But Rebecca, suddenly quitting her de- 
 
186 IVANHOE. 
 
 jected posture, and making her way through the attend- 
 ants to the palfrey of the Saxon lady, knelt down, and, 
 after the Oriental fashion in addressing superiors, kissed 
 the hem of Bowena's garment. Then rising, and throwing 
 hack her veil, she implored her, in the great name of the 
 God whom they both worshiped, 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 Eebecca; " 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 Eebecca 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 Chris- 
 tians, leave them in this extremity. Let them unload two 
 of the sumpter mules, and put the baggage behind two 
 of the serfs. The mules may transport the litter, and we 
 have led horses for the old man and his daughter." 
 
 Cedric readily assented to what she proposed, and Athel- 
 stane 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 boar's brawn." 
 
 " 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 colored deeply, for such had been his own 
 fate on the last day of the tournament; while Eowena, who 
 was pleased in the same proportion, as if to make amends 
 for the brutal jest of her unfeeling suitor, requested 
 Eebecca to ride by her side. 
 
 " It were not fit that I should do so," answered Eebecca, 
 with proud humility, " where my society might be held a 
 disgrace to my protectress." 
 
IVANHOE. 187 
 
 By this time the change of baggage was hastily achieved; 
 for the single word "outlaws" rendered every one suffi- 
 ciently alert, and the approach of twilight made the 
 sound yet more impressive. Amid the bustle, Gurth 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, per- 
 haps intentionally, on the part of Wamba, that Gurth 
 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 Gurth was missed; for, as he was to be placed for 
 the rest of the journey behind a servant, every one sup- 
 posed that some other of his companions had him under 
 his custody, and when it began to be whispered among 
 them that Gurth 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 pre- 
 venting 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 impetu- 
 osity to which, in their confused and ill-prepared condi- 
 tion, it was impossible to offer effectual resistance. The 
 shout of "A white dragon! a white dragon! Saint George 
 for merry 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 
 
188 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 had happened to be close 
 behind him. Thus far successful, Oedric 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. Athel- 
 stane 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 Eowena, in the center 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 pre- 
 tended 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 succor his master. 
 Finding himself overpowered, the Jester at length threw 
 himself upon his horse and 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 sin- 
 cerely attached. 
 
 " I have heard men talk of the blessings of freedom," he 
 said to i 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, 
 
IVANHOE. 189 
 
 jumped up and fawned upon him. "Gurth!" answered 
 Wamba, with the same caution, and the swineherd immedi- 
 ately 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 Gurth, impatiently. 
 
 "My lord, and my lady, and Athelstane, and Hundibert, 
 and Oswald." 
 
 "In the name of God!" said Gurth, "how came they 
 prisoners? — and to whom?" 
 
 " Our master was too ready to fight," said the Jester; 
 "and Athelstane 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. 
 
 Gurth's countenance kindled. " Wamba," he said, " thou 
 hast a weapon, and thy heart was ever stronger than thy 
 brain — we are 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 Gurth, "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 expres- 
 sion 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 
 
190 IVANHOE. 
 
 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-pod 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 vizard from his pouch, and repeating his charges to 
 them to stand fast, went to execute his purpose of 
 reconnoitering. 
 
 "Shall we stand fast, Gurth?" 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 him- 
 self a true man." 
 
 " Let him be the devil," said Gurth, " 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 Gurth," he said, "I have mingled among yon 
 men, and have learned 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 
 else than madness; for they are good men of war, and 
 have, as such, placed sentinels to give the alarm when any 
 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 Oedric 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 con- 
 sistent with Wamba's humor to travel long in silence. 
 
IYANEOE. 191 
 
 " 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 Gurth, " conld take it on my halidome, 
 that I have heard the voice of the good yeoman who won 
 it, by night 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 is little to the present purpose; should I free 
 your master, you will have reason to think me the best 
 friend you have 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 cow-keeper, or whether it is 
 my pleasure to walk in sunshine or by moonlight, are mat- 
 ters which, as they do not concern you, so neither need 
 you busy yourselves respecting them." 
 
 " Our heads are in the lion's mouth," said Wamba, in a 
 whisper to Gurth, "get them out how we can." 
 
 "Hush — be silent," said Gurth. "Offend him not by 
 thy folly, and I trust sincerely that all will go well." 
 
192 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " 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 toward 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 is the miller?" was his first question. 
 
 "On the road toward 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 Allan- 
 a-Dale?" 
 
 " Walked up toward the Watling-street, to watch for the 
 Prior of Jorvaulx." 
 
1VANH0E. 193 
 
 "That is well thought on also/' replied the captain; 
 "and where is the friar?" 
 
 "In his cell." 
 
 "Thither will I go," said Locksley. "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 toward Torquilstone, the 
 castle of Front-de-Bceuf. A set of gallants, who have 
 been masquerading in such guise as our own, are carrying a 
 baud 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 
 despatch 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 Copmanhurst. 
 
 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 Gurth, " If this be the habitation of 
 a thief it makes good the old proverb, 'The nearer the 
 church the further from God.' And by my cockscomb," 
 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 drink- 
 ing song, of which this was the burden: 
 
 " Come, trowl the brown bowl to me, 
 Bully boy, bully boy, 
 Come, trowl the brown bowl to me : 
 
 Ho! jolly Jenkin, I spy a knave in drinking, 
 Come, trowl the brown bowl to me. " 
 
 "Now, that is not ill-sung," said Wamba, who had 
 thrown in a few of his own nourishes to help out the 
 chorus. " But who, in the saint's name, ever expected to 
 
194 IVANBOB. 
 
 have heard such a jolly chant come from out a hermit's 
 cell at midnight!" 
 
 "Marry, that should I," said Gurth, "for the jolly 
 Clerk of Copmanhurst 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 keep not 
 better order." 
 
 While they were thus speaking, Locksley's loud and re- 
 peated 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 cowl that they found us in 
 this goodly exercise. All men have their enemies, good 
 Sir Sluggard; and there be those malignant enough to con- 
 strue 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 thine head then, friend Slug- 
 gard, as quickly as thine 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 Be 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 Traveler!" said the hermit, 
 whose own noise, and perhaps his nocturnal potations, pre- 
 vented from- recognizing accents which were tolerably 
 familiar to him; " wend on your way, in the name of God, 
 
IVANHOM. 165 
 
 and Saint Dunstan, and disturb not the devotions of me 
 and my holy brother." 
 
 "Mad priest," answered the voice from without, "open 
 to Locksley !" 
 
 " All's 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 Locksley 
 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 orisons all night." 
 
 " He is a monk of the church militant, I think,", an- 
 swered Locksley; "and there be more of them abroad. I 
 tell thee, friar, thou must lay down the rosary and take up 
 the quarter-staff; 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 
 
196 1VANE0E. 
 
 of Sorablestone — 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 I have 
 changed this gray gown for a green cassock, and if I make 
 not a quarter-staff ring upon thy pate, I am neither true 
 clerk nor good woodsman." 
 
 While he spoke thus, he stripped off his gown, and ap- 
 peared 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 truss 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 transmew 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 gray friar'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." 
 
IVANHOR 197 
 
 " 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 enter- 
 prise, in which, if thou be'st really that which thou seemest, 
 thou mayest 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 Coningsburgh, and have transported 
 them to a castle in this forest, called Torquilstone. 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 friend. 
 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 
 these oppressed captives; which done, I trust we shall part 
 better acquainted, and well satisfied with each other." 
 
 " So," said Wamba to Gurth — for the friar being now 
 fully equipped, the Jester, having approached to the other 
 side of the hut, had heard the conclusion of the conver- 
 sation — " 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 Locksley 
 looks like a born deer-stealer, and the priest like a lusty 
 hypocrite." 
 
ig$ IVANHOE. 
 
 "Hold thy peace, Wamba," said Gurth; "it may all be 
 as thou dost guess; but were the horned devil to rise and 
 proffer me his assistance to set at liberty Oedric and the 
 Lady Kowena, 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 accoutered as a yeoman, 
 with sword and buckler, bow and quiver, and a strong par- 
 tisan 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 shalt 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 be- 
 fore, Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst?" 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 shave- 
 ling 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 lading." 
 
 " 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 
 
IYANBOB. 199 
 
 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 Front-de-Bceuf." 
 
 " What! is it Front-de-Bceuf," 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 to say what should be left unsaid, both in decency 
 and prudence." 
 
200 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 " Alas, how many hours and years have past, 
 Since human forms have round this table sate, 
 Or lamp, or taper, on its surface gleam'd ! 
 Methinks, I hear the sound of time long pass'd 
 Still murmuring o'er us, in the lofty void 
 Of these dark arches, like the ling'ring voices 
 Of those who long within their graves have slept." 
 
 — Orra, a Tragedy. 
 
 While these measures were taking in behalf of Cedric 
 and his companions, the armed men by whom the latter 
 had been seized hurried their captives along toward 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- 
 Bceuf's castle. There will I appear before the Lady 
 Bowena 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. 
 
IVANHOE. 201 
 
 " I would hope, however, Sir Knight," said the Tem- 
 plar, " that this alteration of measures arises from no sus- 
 picion of my honorable meaning, such as Fitzurse en- 
 deavored to instill into thee?" 
 
 "My thoughts are my own," answered De Bracy; " the 
 fiends laugh, 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 Tem- 
 plar, " 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." 
 
 " Eight 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-Guilbert, " who shall gain- 
 say me?" 
 
 "No one that I know," said De Bracy, "unless it be 
 your vow of celibacy, or a check 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," 
 
202 IVANHOE. 
 
 " Thou knowest best thine own privileges," said De 
 Bracy. "Yet, I would have sworn thy thoughts 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 
 Front-de-Boeuf, who will not lend us the use of his castle for 
 nothing. I must have something that I can term exclu- 
 sively my own by this foray of ours, and I have fixed on 
 the lovely Jewess as my own 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 endeav- 
 oring to wring out of those who guarded him an avowal of 
 their character and purpose. " You should be English- 
 men," said he; "and yet, saci - ed 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 expostula- 
 tions. 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 Beginald Front-de-Boeuf . 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 
 
IVANROE. 203 
 
 were encircled by an inner court-yard. Around the ex- 
 terior wall was a deep moat, supplied with water from a 
 neighboring rivulet. Front- de-Bceuf, whose character 
 placed him often at feud with his enemies, had made con- 
 siderable additions to the strength of his castle, by build- 
 ing 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 ter- 
 minated and defended by a small turret at each corner. 
 
 Oedric no sooner saw the turrets of Front-de-Bceuf's 
 castle raise their gray and moss-grown battlements, glim- 
 mering in the morning sun, above the woods by which 
 they were surrounded, then he instantly argued 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 brakes 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 
 Athelstane, 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 Kowena 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 cross-bow men, 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 
 Athelstane 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 Oedric to understand that they were to be imprisoned 
 in a chamber apart from Roweua, Resistance was vain; 
 
304 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 Eowena 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 Eebecca, 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 discus- 
 sion, 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 Eowena 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 thern 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 pur- 
 poses, because the present lord, among other additions to 
 the convenience, security and beauty of his baronial resi- 
 dence, 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 philos- 
 ophy, to defend him against everything save the incon- 
 venience 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 Athelstane, " it was in this very hall 
 that my father feasted with Torquil Wolfganger, when he 
 entertained the valiant and unfortunate Harold, then 
 advancing against the Norwegians, who had united them- 
 
IVANHOE. 205 
 
 selves to the rebel Tosti. It was in this hall that Harold 
 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 
 Saxons who were quaffing the blood-red wine around their 
 monarch." 
 
 " I hope," said Athelstane, somewhat moved by this part 
 of his friend's discourse, " they will not forget to send us 
 some wine and refections at noon — we had scarce a breath- 
 ing-space allowed to break our fast, and I never have the 
 benefit of my food when I eat immediately after dismount- 
 ing 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 
 Tosti 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 Tosti accept these terms,' continued the 
 envoy, ' what lands shall be assigned to his faithful ally, 
 Hardrada, King of Norway?' 
 
 " 'Seven feet of English ground,' answered Harold, 
 more fiercely; ' or, as Hardrada is said to be a giant, per- 
 haps we may allow him twelve inches.' 
 
 " The hall rung with acclamations, and cup and horn 
 were filled to the Norwegian, who should be speedily in 
 possession of his English territory." 
 
 " I could have pledged him with all my soul," said 
 Athelstane, "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 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,* 
 
 * See Note E, Battle of Stamford 
 
206 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 Athelstane — 
 that you, descended of Harold'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 Athelstane; " 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 reflec- 
 tions 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 subser- 
 vient, 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 sim- 
 plicity of the Saxon nobles — a folly, Athelstane, 
 foreb'oded of old, as well as foreseen, by those descendants 
 of Hengist and his hardy tribes, who retained the simplic- 
 ity 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 them- 
 selves,, and we became enervated by Norman arts long ere 
 
IVANHOE. 207 
 
 we fell under Norman arms. Far better was our homely 
 diet, eaten in peace and liberty, than the luxurious dain- 
 ties, the love of which has delivered us as bondsmen to the 
 conqueror!" 
 
 " I should," replied Athelstane, " hold very humble diet 
 a luxury at present; and it astonishes me, noble Oedric, 
 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 posses- 
 sion of him, and he hath no pleasure save to fill, to swill, 
 and to call for more. Alas!" said he, looking at Athel- 
 stane 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 Ro wena, indeed, her nobler and more 
 generous soul may yet awake the better nature which is 
 torpid within him. Yet how should this be, while Eowena, 
 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 reflec- 
 tions, the door of their prison opened and gave entrance 
 to a sewer, holding his white rod of office. This impor- 
 tant person advanced into the chamber with a grave pace, 
 followed by four attendants, bearing a table covered with 
 dishes, the sight and smell of which seemed to be an 
 instant compensation to Athelstane for all the inconven- 
 ience 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 Front-de-Bceuf, 
 that we know no reason he can have for witholding our lib- 
 erty, 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 
 
208 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 sewer made no answer, but bowed his head. 
 
 "And tell Sir Keginald Front-de-Bceuf," said Athel- 
 stane, " 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 circum- 
 stances, venture to refuse or to delay." 
 
 " I shall deliver to the knight your defiance," answered 
 the sewer; " meanwhile, I leave you to your food." 
 
 The challenge of Athelstane was delivered with no good 
 grace; for a large mouthful, which required the exercise of 
 both jaws at once, added to a natural hesitation, consider- 
 ably clamped the effect of the bold defiance it contained. 
 Still, however, his speech was hailed by Cedric as an incon- 
 testable token of reviving spirit in his companion, whose 
 previous indifference had begun, notwithstanding his 
 respect for Athelstane's descent, to wear out his patience. 
 But he now cordially shook hands with him in token of 
 his approbation, and was somewhat grieved when Athel- 
 stane observed, "that he would fight a dozen such men as 
 Front-de-Bcenf, if, by so doing, he could hasten his depart- 
 ure 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 Athelstane, and soon shewed that if the distresses 
 of his country could banish the recollection of food while 
 the table was 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 disap- 
 
IVANEOB. 209 
 
 pointed; for these outlets only looked upon the court 
 of the castle, and the sound came from beyond its pre- 
 cincts. The summons, however, seemed of importance, 
 for a considerable degree of bustle instantly took place in 
 the castle. 
 
aiO IVANBO&. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXII. 
 
 " My daughter— my ducats— my daughter ! 
 
 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 re- 
 ceived through one or two loop-holes far above the reach 
 of the captive's hand. These apertures admitted, even at 
 mid-day, 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 
 moldering bones, which seemed to have been once those of 
 the human leg, as if the 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 trans- 
 verse iron bars, half devoured with rust. 
 
 The whole appearance of the dungeon might have 
 appalled a stouter heart than that of Isaac, who, never- 
 theless, was more composed under the imminent pressure 
 of danger than he had seemed to be while affected by ter- 
 rors, 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. 
 
IVANHOE. 211 
 
 struggling in their fangs.* And thus it is probable, that 
 the Jews, by the very frequency of their fear on all occa- 
 sions, had their minds in some degree prepared for every 
 effort or 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 the 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 gar- 
 ment collected beneath him to keep his limbs from the 
 wet pavement, Isaac sat in the corner of his dungeon, 
 where his folded hands, his disheveled head and beard, his 
 furred cloak and high cap, seen by the wiry and broken 
 light, would have afforded a study for Eembrandt, had 
 that celebrated painter existed at that period. The Jew 
 remained without altering his position for nearly three 
 hours, at the expiry of which steps were heard on the 
 stair. The bolts screamed as they were withdrawn — the 
 hinges creaked as the wicket opened, and Eeginald Front- 
 de-Boeuf, followed by the two Saracen slaves of the Tem- 
 plar, entered the prison. 
 
 Front-de-Bceuf, 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 cast, have 
 excited the sympathy and veneration due to the marks of 
 honorable valor; but, in the peculiar case of Front-de- 
 Bceuf, they only added to the ferocity of his countenance, 
 
 * Nota Bene. — We by no means warrant the accuracy of this 
 piece of natural history, which we give on the authority of the War- 
 dour MS.— L. T. 
 
aia ivanhob. 
 
 and to the dread which his presence inspired. This for- 
 midable 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 Pront-de-Bceuf 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 Front-de-Bcenf 
 himself carefully locked and double-locked it. Having 
 taken this precaution, he advanced slowly up the apart- 
 ment toward 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 Front-de- 
 Bceuf 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 encounter- 
 ing the fierce Norman's fixed and baleful gaze. The un- 
 happy 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 supplica- 
 tion, 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 ap- 
 peared to dilate in magnitude, like "that of the eagle, 
 which ruffles up its plumage when about to pounce on its 
 defenceless 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 Front-de-Bceuf, and again retired to 
 the respectful distance at which his companion had already 
 taken his station. 
 
IVANHOE. 213 
 
 The motions of these men were slow and solemn, as if 
 there impended over their souls some preconception of 
 horror and of cruelty. Front-de-Bceuf himself opened the 
 scene hy 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, "seest thou these scales?" 
 
 The unappy 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 the 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 Front-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; 
 1"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 mayest be," replied the knight; " more shame 
 to their folly who have suffered thee to grow gray in usury 
 and knavery — Feeble thou mayest be, for when had a Jew 
 either heart or hand — But rich it 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 thy obstinacy seal thy doom until thou 
 hast seen and well considered the 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 kot believe, 
 by the gospel which our church teaches, and by the keys 
 which are given her to bind and to loose, that my purpose 
 is deep and peremptory. This dungeon is no place for 
 
314 IVANBOM. 
 
 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 also had 
 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 a light 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 Front-de-Bceuf, " the range of 
 iron bars above that glowing charcoal?* On that warm 
 couch thou shalt lie, stripped of thy clothes as if thou werfc 
 to rest on a bed of down. One of these slaves shall main- 
 tain 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 Front-de-Bceuf, "it 
 were a fatal error. Dost thou not 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 or 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 poniard, or the cord, at his slightest wink — thinkest 
 thou that they will have mercy, who do not even under- 
 stand 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 
 
 * See Note F. The range of iron bars above the glowing char- 
 coal. 
 
I7ANH0B. 215 
 
 thou hast acquired by the usury thou hast practiced on 
 those of his religion. Thy cunning may soon swell out 
 once more thy shrivelled purse, but neither leech nor 
 medicine can restore thy scorched hide and flesh wert 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 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 further signal. The un- 
 happy Jew eyed their countenances and that of Front-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 tormentor's 
 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 mendi- 
 cant at the door of our synagogue ere I make up so unheard- 
 of a sum. When and where must it be delivered?" 
 
 "Here," replied Front-de-Boeuf, "here it must be de- 
 livered — weighed it must be — weighed and told down on 
 this very dungeon floor. Thinkest thou I will part with thee 
 until thy ransom is secure?" 
 
216 TVANEOB. 
 
 "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 Front- de-Bceuf; "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. " Wert thou now in thy treasure-chamber at 
 York, and were I craving a loan of thy shekels, 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 to 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 may contribute in some sort to my ransom." 
 
 "If thou meanest yonder Saxon churls," said IYont-de- 
 Bceuf, " their ransom will depend upon 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, to- 
 gether with mine wounded friend. 
 
 " Shall I twice recommend it," said Front-de-Boeuf, " to 
 a son of Israel, to meddle with his own concerns, and 
 leave those of others alone? Since thou hast made tliy 
 choice, it remains that thou payest down thy ransom, and 
 that at 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 Front-de-Bceuf only laughed, and 
 himself filled up the blauk at which the Jew 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 the loser is a Jew, 
 Thou wert not so patient, Isaac, when thou didst invoke 
 
IVANHOE. 217 
 
 justice against Jacques Fitzdotterel, for calling thee a 
 usurious bloodsucker, when thy actions had destroyed his 
 patrimony." 
 
 "I swear by the Talmud," said the Jew, "that your 
 valor has been misled in that matter. Fitzdotterel drew 
 his poniard 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 Front-de-Bceuf ; " the 
 question is, when shall I have mine own? When shall I 
 have the shekels, 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 the pause of a 
 few seconds, " the treasure shall be told down on this very 
 floor." 
 
 " Thy daughter!" said Front-de-Boeuf, as if surprised. 
 "By heavens, Isaac, I would I had known of this. I 
 deemed that yonder black-browed girl had been thy concu- 
 bine, and I gave her to be a handmaiden to Sir Brian de 
 Bois-Guilbert, 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 communi- 
 cation made the very vault to ring, and astounded the two 
 Saracens so much that they let go their hold of the Jew. 
 He availed himself of his enlargement to throw himself on 
 the pavement, and clasp the knees of Front-de-Bceuf. 
 
 " 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 
 Eachel, 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." 
 
218 I7ANH0E. 
 
 "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 Front-de-Bceuf ; " 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 comrades 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-Guilbert'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 I" said Front-de-Bceuf, 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!" 
 
 " Eobber 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 pa- 
 ternal 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 Front-de-Boenf ; "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," 
 
IVANHOB. 219 
 
 In spite of the feeble struggles of the old man, the Sara- 
 cens 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 Front-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 paternal feelings might prove strongest. 
 
220 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTEK 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 Kowena had been in- 
 troduced was fitted up with some rude attempts at orna- 
 ment 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 Front-de-Bceuf, 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 Front-de-Boeuf, De Bracy, and 
 the Templar, in which, after a long and warm debate con- 
 cerning the several advantages which each insisted upon 
 deriving from his peculiar share in this audacious enter- 
 prise, they had at length determined the fate of their 
 unhappy prisoners. 
 
 It was about the hour of noon, therefore, when De Bracy, 
 for whose advantage the expedition had been first planned, 
 appeared to prosecute his views upon the hand and posses- 
 sions of the Lady Kowena. 
 
 The interval had not entirely been bestowed in holding 
 council with his confederates, for De Bracy had found 
 leisure to decorate his person with all the foppery of the 
 
IVANHOE. 221 
 
 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 Bracy's might have challenged the prize of 
 extravagance with the 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 demeanor of the wearer, 
 whose manners partook alike of the grace of a courtier, 
 and the frankness of a soldier. 
 
 He saluted Kowena by doffing his velvet bonnet, gar- 
 nished 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 Eowena declined, 
 by her gesture, the proffered compliment, and replied, " If 
 I be in the presence of my gaoler, 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 Kowena," returned De Bracy, "you are in 
 presence of your captive, not your gaoler; and it is from 
 your fair eyes that De Bracy 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 Bracy, 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 loadstar of my eyes." 
 
 " I repeat to you, Sir Knight, that I know you not, and 
 that no man wearing chain and spurs ought thus to intrude 
 himself upon the presence of an unprotected lady." 
 
 "That I am unknown to you," said De Bracy, "is 
 
222 IVANHOE. 
 
 indeed my misfortune; yet let me hope that De Bracy's 
 name has not been always unspoken, when minstrels or 
 heralds have praised deeds of chivalry, whether in the 
 lists or in the battle-field." 
 
 " To heralds and to minstrels, then, leave thy praise, 
 Sir Knight," replied Kowena, "more suiting for their 
 mouths than for thine own; and tell me which of them 
 shall record in song, or in book of tourney, the memorable 
 conquest of this night, a conquest obtained over an old 
 man, followed by a few timid hinds; and its booty, an un- 
 fortunate maiden, transported against her will to the castle 
 of a robber?" 
 
 "You are unjust, Lady Kowena," said the knight, 
 biting his lip 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 Eowena, " to cease a lan- 
 guage so commonly used by strolling minstrels that it 
 becomes not the mouth of knights and nobles. Certes, you 
 constrain me to sit down, since you enter upon such com- 
 monplace terms, of which each vile crowder hath a stock 
 that might last from hence to Christmas." 
 
 " Proud damsel," said De Bracy, 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 meeter 
 for thy humor to be wooed with bow and bill, than in set 
 terms, and in courtly language." 
 
 "Courtesy of tongue," said Eowena, "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 affectation of gentle lan- 
 guage 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 Bracy's wife, I am not wont to be baffled. 
 
IVANHOE. 223 
 
 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, 
 Eowena, 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 the 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 Eowena, " 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 Bracy, " though 
 you may think it lies too obscure for my apprehension. 
 But dream not that Richard Cceur-de-Lion will ever 
 resume his throne, far less that Wilfred of Ivanhoe, his 
 minion, will ever lead thee to his footstool, to be there wel- 
 comed as the bride of a favorite. 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 Front de-Bceuf, whose jealousy will be more 
 fatal than mine." 
 
 "Wilfred here?" said Rowena, in disdain; "that is as 
 true as that Front-de-Bceuf is his rival." 
 
 De Bracy looked at her steadily for an instant. " Wert 
 thou really ignorant of this?" said he; "didst thou not 
 know that Wilfred of Ivanhoe traveled in the litter of the 
 Jew? a meet conveyance for the crusader whose doughty 
 arm was to conquer 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 she could not suppress, " in what is 
 he the rival of Front-de-Boenf? or what has he to fear 
 beyond a short imprisonment, and an honorable ransom^ 
 according to $je use of chivalry?" 
 
224 IVANHOB. 
 
 "Rowena," said De Bracy, "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 that there is a jealousy of ambition and of wealth, 
 as well as of love; and that this our host, Front-de-Boeuf, 
 will push from his road him who opposes his claim to the 
 fair barony of Ivanhoe as readily, eagerly and unscrupu- 
 lously 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 Front-de-Boeuf, 
 whom else thou mayst mourn for, as in the hands of one 
 who has never shewn compassion." 
 
 "Save him, for the love of Heaven!" said Eowena, her 
 firmness giving way under terror for her lover's impending 
 
 " I can — I will — it is my purpose," said De Bracy; " for, 
 when Rowena consents to be the bride of De Bracy, who is 
 it that 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 obsta- 
 cle between me and my wishes. Use thine influence with 
 me in his behalf, and he is safe — refuse to employ it, Wil- 
 fred dies, and thou thyself art not the nearer to freedom." 
 
 "Thy language," answered Rowena, "hath in its in- 
 different 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 Bracy, 
 " until time shall prove it false. Thy lover lies wounded 
 in this castle— thy preferred lover. He is a bar between 
 Front-de-Boeuf and that which Front-de-Boeuf loves better 
 than either ambition and beauty. What will it cost 
 beyond the blow of a poniard, or the thrust of a javelin, to 
 silence his opposition for ever? Nay, were Front-de- 
 Boeuf afraid to justify a deed 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 Wilfred, in his present condition, is sped with- 
 out the effusion of blood. Cedric also " 
 
 " And Cedric also," said Rowena, repeating his words; 
 
IVANBOS. 225 
 
 " 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 upon thy determination," 
 said De Bracy; "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 con- 
 sider 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 dangei - , as well as that of her lover 
 and her guardian; and when she found her will, the slight- 
 est expression of which was wont to command respect and 
 attention, now placed in opposition to that of a man of a 
 strong, fierce and determined mind, who possessed the ad- 
 vantage 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 a creature in such ex- 
 tremity without feeling for her, and De Bracy was not un- 
 moved, though he was yet more embarrassed than touched. 
 He had, in truth, gone too far to recede; and yet, in 
 Eowena's present condition, she could not be acted on 
 either by argument or threats. He paced the apartment 
 to and fro, now vainly exhorting the terrified maiden to 
 compose herself, now hesitating concerning his own line of 
 conduct. 
 
fc>6 1VANS0& 
 
 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 dis- 
 position, or that I had a larger share of Front-de-Bceuf'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 Bracy was interrupted by the horn, "hoarse-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 Bracy 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 incidents 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 
 those numerous passages which he has collected from con- 
 temporary 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 
 
iVANHOS. 227 
 
 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 fires 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 Princess Matilda, though a daughter of 
 the King of Scotland, and afterward both Queen of Eng- 
 land, niece to Edgar Atheling, and mother to the Empress 
 of Germany, the daughter, the wife and the mother of 
 monarchs, was obliged, during her early residence for edu- 
 cation 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 
 the 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 circum- 
 stances upon which it was founded; giving thus an indu- 
 bitable and most remarkable testimony to the existence of 
 that disgraceful license by which that age was stained. 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 the 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 G-od, but solely to preserve their honor from 
 the unbridled wickedness of man. 
 
 Such and so licentious were the times, as announced by 
 
 * Henry's Hist. edit. 1805, vol. vii. p. 246. 
 
228 IVANHOM. 
 
 the public declaration of the assembled clergy, recorded by 
 Eadmer; 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 
 Wardour MS. 
 
ivanhob. 229 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " I'll woo her as the lion woos his bride." 
 
 — Douglas. 
 
 While the scenes we have described were passing in 
 other parts of the castle, the Jewess Eebecca 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 sibyl, 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 Rebecca entered, and scowled at the fair Jew- 
 ess with the malignant envy with which old age and ugli- 
 ness, when united with evil conditions, are apt 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 
 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 serv- 
 ice; and now must I up and away at the command of 
 every groom such as thou." 
 
 "Good dame Urfried," 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 Zerne- 
 bock tear me limb from limb, if I leave my own cell ere I 
 have spun out the hemp on my distaff!" 
 
230 IVANHOS. 
 
 "Answer it to our lord, then, old house-fiend," said the 
 man, and retired, leaving Eebecca in company with the 
 old woman, upon whose presence she had been thus unwill- 
 ingly 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 Eebecca; " 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 Eebecca. " 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 Eebecca. 
 
 " Thou needst say no more," replied Urfried ; " men 
 know a fox by the train, and a Jewess by her tongue." 
 
 " For the sake of mercy," said Eebecca, "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 Front-de-Boeuf, father 
 of this Eeginald, 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 of the stair, that was not slippery 
 with their blood. They died — they died every man; and 
 ere their blood was dried, I had become the prey and scorn 
 of the conqueror!" 
 
 "Is there no help! Are there no means of escape?" 
 said Eebecca. " Eichly, richly, would I 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, 
 
IVANME. 231 
 
 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 the well, I say. My thread is spun 
 out—thy task is yet to begin." 
 
 "Stay! stay! for Heaven's sake!" said Kebecca; "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 protec- 
 tion," 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 their habitual frown. She locked the door 
 behind her, and Kebecca might hear her curse every step 
 for its steepness, as slowly and with difficulty she descended 
 the turret-stair. 
 
 Rebecca 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 toward one of 
 her oppressed race, whatever shadow of these might be 
 preserved toward a Saxon heiress? Yet had the Jewess 
 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 He- 
 brews, had not been able to blind her to the precarious 
 circumstances under which they were enjoyed. Like Dam- 
 ocles at his celebrated banquet, Rebecca perpetually beheld, 
 amid that gorgeous display, the sword which was suspended 
 over the heads of her people by a single hair. These re- 
 flections 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 courteously toward all who ap- 
 proached her. She could not, indeed, imitate his excess of 
 
232 IVAN HOE. 
 
 subservience, because she was a stranger to the meannes3 
 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 summed it up accordingly. 
 
 Her first care was to inspect the apartment; but it 
 afforded few hopes either of escape or protection. It con- 
 tained neither 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 surmounting 
 the turret, which gave Eebecca, 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 
 bartisan, 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 in Heaven natural to great and 
 generous characters. Eebecca, 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, or in trusting that the children of Zion would 
 be one day called in with the fullness of the Gentiles. In 
 the meanwhile, all around her showed that their present 
 state was that of punishment and probation, and it was 
 their especial duty to suffer without sinning. Thus pre- 
 pared to consider herself as the victim of misfortune, 
 Eebecca 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, 
 
IVANHOE. 233 
 
 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 their misfortune, 
 slowly enteredj 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 ex- 
 ecution of some deed, at the thought of which he was him- 
 self ashamed, he stood before the affrighted prisoner; yet, 
 ruffian as his dress bespoke him, he seemed at a loss to 
 express what purpose had brought him thither, so that 
 Eebecca, 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 orna- 
 ments are of value, yet are they trifling to what he would 
 bestow to obtain our dismissal from this castle, free and 
 uninjured." 
 
 " Pair 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 do yourself such wrong," said Rebecca; "take 
 ransom and bave mercy! Gold will purchase your pleas- 
 ure — to misuse us could only bring thee remorse. My 
 father will willingly satiate thy utmost wishes; and if thou 
 wilt act wisely, thou mayest purchase with our spoils thy 
 restoration to civil society — mayest obtain pardon for past 
 errors, and be placed beyond the necessity of committing 
 more." 
 
 " It is well spoken," replied the outlaw in French, find- 
 ing it difficult, probably, to sustain in Saxon a conversation 
 which Rebecca had opened in that language; " but know, 
 bright lily of the vale of Baca! that thy father is already in 
 the hands of a powerful alchemist, who knows how to con- 
 vert into gold and silver even the rusty bars of a dungeon 
 grate. The venerable Isaac is subjected to an alembic, 
 which will distil from him all he holds dear, without any 
 
234 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 Rebecca, in the same lan- 
 guage in which he addressed her; " no outlaw had refused 
 such offers. No outlaw in this land uses the dialect in 
 which thou hast spoken. Thou art no outlaw, but a 
 Norman — a Norman, noble perhaps in birth. Oh, be so in 
 thy actions, and cast off this fearful mask of outrage and 
 violence!" 
 
 " And thou, who canst guess so truly," said Brian de 
 Bois-G-uilbert, 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 the of these 
 ornaments." 
 
 " What wouldst thou have of me," said Rebecca, "if not 
 my wealth? We can have nought 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? Despardieux! Not if she were the 
 Queen of Sheba. And know, besides, sweet daughter of 
 Zion, that were the most Christian King to offer me his 
 most Christian daughter, with Languedoc fo,r a dowry, I 
 could not wed her. It is against my vow to love any 
 maiden, otherwise than par amours, as I will love thee. I 
 am a Templar. Behold the cross of my holy order." 
 
 " Darest thou appeal to it," said Kebecca, " on an occa- 
 sion 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 salva- 
 tion." 
 
 " I believe as my fathers taught," said Rebecca, " 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 vow? as a 
 knight, and as a man of religion ?" 
 
IVANEOE. 235 
 
 "It is gravely and well preached, daughter of Sirach!" 
 answered the Templar; "but, gentle Ecclesiastica, thy 
 narrow Jewish prejudices make thee blind to our high privi- 
 lege. 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 mast 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 Jewess, "and 
 the lives of the saints, only to justify 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. 
 "Hearken," he said, "Rebecca; 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 vio- 
 lence what thou refusest to entreaty or necessity." 
 
 " Stand back," said Rebecca; " stand back, and hear me 
 ere thou offerest 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, Templar, 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 dis- 
 honored 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 prose- 
 cuted, 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 
 
236 IVANHOE. 
 
 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, Kebecca. 
 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 lance among the defenders of the Temple." 
 
 "Submit to my fate!" said Eebecca — "and, sacred 
 heaven! to what fate? — embrace thy religion! and what 
 religion can it be that harbors such a villain? — thou the 
 best lance 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 bartisan, and in an instant after, stood on the 
 very verge of the parapet, with not the slightest screen be- 
 tween her and the tremendous depth below. Unprepared 
 for such a desperate effort, for she had hitherto stood per- 
 fectly motionless, Bois-Guilbert had neither time to inter- 
 cept nor to stop her. As he offered to advance, she 
 exclaimed, " Eemain 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 court-yard 
 ere it becomes a victim of thy brutality !" 
 
 As she spoke this, she clasped her hands and extended 
 them toward heaven, as if imploring mercy on her soul 
 before she made the final plunge. The Templar hesitated, 
 and a resolution which 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 offence." 
 
 " I will not trust thee, Templar," said Rebecca; "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 nought but 
 the honor or the dishonor of a miserable Jewish maiden." 
 
 "You do me injustice," exclaimed the Templar fer- 
 vently; " 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 fathers do I swear, I will do thee no 
 
IVANHOE. 237 
 
 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 Eebecca, "I know it but too well — dare I 
 trust thee?" 
 
 " May my arms be reversed, and my name dishonored," 
 said Brian de Bois-Guilbert, "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 Eebecca, " thus far;" and 
 she descended from the verge of the battlement, but 
 remained standing close by one of the embrasures, or 
 machicolles, as they were then called. " Here," she said, 
 " I take my stand. Eemain where thou art, and if thou 
 shall 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 Eebecca 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 yet a more brilliant fire to her eye. 
 Bois-Guilbert, proud himself and high-spirited, thought he 
 had never beheld beauty so animated and so commanding. 
 
 " Let there be peace between us, Eebecca," he said. 
 
 " Peace, if thou wilt," answered Eebecca. " Peace — 
 but with this space between." 
 
 " Thou need'st no longer fear me," said Bois-Guilbert. 
 
 "I fear thee not," replied she; "thanks to him that 
 reared this dizzy tower so high that nought 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, there- 
 fore, I have exercised it; but not upon such as thou. Hear 
 
238 IVANHOE. 
 
 me, Kebecca. Never did knight take lance in his hand 
 with a heart more devoted to the lady of his love than 
 Brian de Bois-Guilbert. 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 Landes of Bourdeaux, her name was known, where- 
 ever 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 Bebecca's presence, " yes, my deeds, my danger, my 
 blood, made the name of Adelaide de Montmare known 
 from the court of Castile to that of Byzantium. And how 
 was I requited? 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 theancient name of Bois-Guilbert. At the feet 
 of my Superior I have 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 Bebecca, "what advantages could com- 
 pensate for such an absolute sacrifice?" 
 
 " The power of vengeance, Bebecca," replied the Tem- 
 plar, " and the prospects of ambition." 
 
 "An evil recompense," said Bebecca, " for the surren- 
 der 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, " Bebecca! she who could prefer death to dis- 
 honor roust have a proud and powerful soul, Mine thou 
 
IVANHOE. 239 
 
 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 individ- 
 ual 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-sandall'd monk 
 can do that. Our mailed step shall ascend their throne — 
 our gauntlet shall wrench the scepter 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 bnt a kindred spirit to share it, and I have 
 found such in thee." 
 
 " Sayest thou this to one of my people?" answered Ee- 
 becca. " 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 
 foreswore 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 im- 
 mense 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 em- 
 brace our Order on the ancient principles, and whose su- 
 perstition makes them our passive tools. But I will not 
 further withdraw the veil of our mysteries, That bugle- 
 
240 IVANHOE. 
 
 sound announces something which may require my pres- 
 ence. 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 be 
 only 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 Eebecca scarcely more terrified at the pros- 
 pect 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 the 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 Eebecca 
 to wish it recalled. 
 
IVANBOE. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. ; 
 
 " A damn'd cramp piece of penmanship as ever I saw in my life I" 
 
 — 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 successfully paid to the 
 Saxon heiress?" said the Templar. 
 
 "By the bones of Thomas a Becket," answered De 
 Bracy, " 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." 
 
 " Gramercy for the few drops of thy sprinkling," replied 
 De Bracy; " but this damsel hath wept enough to extin- 
 guish a beacon-light. Never was such wringing of hands 
 and such overflowing of eyes, since the days of St. Mobe,* 
 of whom Prior Aymer told us. A water-fiend hath pos- 
 sessed the fair Saxon." 
 
 " A legend 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- 
 Bceuf ? That horn is sounded more and more clamorously." 
 
 " He is negotiating with the Jew, I suppose," replied 
 
 * I wish the Prior had also informed them when Niobe was 
 sainted. Probably during that enlightened period when 
 " Pan to Moses lent his pagan horn." 
 
 L. T. 
 
De Bracy, coolly; "probably the howls of Isaac have 
 drowned the blast of the bugle. Thou mayest know, by 
 experience, Sir Brian, that a Jew parting with his treasures 
 on such terms as onr friend Front-de-Bceuf 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 vassals 
 call him." 
 
 They were soon after joined by Front-de-Boeuf, 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 
 Front-de Bceuf — " 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 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 spear-heads and sword- 
 blades, and so the old shaveling gave up the task." 
 
 "Give it me," said the Templar. "We have that of 
 the priestly character, that we have some knowledge to 
 - enlighten our valor." 
 
 " 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 Tem- 
 plar; " but, by our Lady of Bethlehem, if it be not a fool- 
 ish jest, it is the most extraordinary cartel that was ever 
 sent across the drawbridge of a baronial castle." 
 
 "Jest!" said Front-de-Bceuf; "I would gladly know 
 who dares jest with me in such a matter! Head it x Sir 
 Brian." 
 
 The Templar accordingly read it as follows: 
 
 "I, Wamba, the son of Witless, Jester to a noble and 
 free-born man, Cedric of Kotherwood, called the Saxon. 
 And I, Gurth, the son of Beowulph, the swineherd " 
 
 " Thou art mad," said Front-de-Boauf, interrupting the 
 reader. 
 
" By St. Luke it is so set down," answered the Templar. 
 Then resuming his task he went on — " I, Gurth, the son of 
 Beowulph, swineherd unto the said Cedric, with the assis- 
 tance of our allies and confederates, who make common 
 cause with us in this our feud, namely, the good knight, 
 called for the present Le Noir Faineant, and the stout 
 yeoman, Eobert Locksley, called Cleave-the-wand, Do 
 you Beginald Front-de-Bceuf, and your allies and accom- 
 plices 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 Kowena of Hargottstandstede; also upon 
 the person of a noble and free-born man, Athelstane of Con- 
 ingsburg; also upon the person of certain free-born men, 
 their cnichts; also upon certain serfs, their bora bondsmen; 
 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 cnichts and slaves, and also 
 with the horses and mules, Jew and Jewess beforesaid, were 
 all in peace with his majesty, and traveling as liege sub- 
 jects upon the king's highway; therefore we require and 
 demand that the said noble persons, namely, Cedric of 
 Kotherwood, Rowena of Hargottstandstede, Athelstane of 
 Cbningsburgh, with their servants, cnichts 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 
 you 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. Withold'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 Copmanhurst." 
 
 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 this hieroglyphic to be the sign-manual 
 
244 IVANHOB. 
 
 of Wamba, son of Witless. Under this respectable emblem 
 stood a cross, stated to be the mark of Gurth, the son of 
 Beowulph. Then were written, in rough bold characters, 
 the words, Le Noir Faineant. 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 portend. 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. Eront- 
 de-Bceuf, 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 cir- 
 cumstances, than give way to such misplaced merriment." 
 
 ".Front-de-Boeuf 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 a swineherd." 
 
 "By St. Michael," answered Front-de-Boeuf; "I would 
 thou couldst stand the whole brunt of this adventure thy- 
 self, De Bracy. These fellows dared not have acted with 
 such inconceivable impudence, had they not been sup- 
 ported by some strong bands. There are enough of out- 
 laws in this forest to resent my protecting the deer. I did 
 but tie one fellow, who was taken redhanded 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 
 there were launched at 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-Boeuf; "this 
 comes of lending you the use of my castle, that cannot 
 manage your undertaking quietly, but yon must bring this 
 nest of hornets about my ears!" 
 
 "Of hornets?" said De Bracy; "of stingless drones 
 rather; a band of lazy knaves, who take to the wood, and 
 
IVANHOE. 245 
 
 destroy the venison rather than labor for their main- 
 tenance. " 
 
 " Stingless !" replied Front-de-Bceuf ; " fork-headed 
 shafts of a cloth-yard in length, and these shot within 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 
 knight — ay, 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-Bceuf; "were they black 
 Turks or Moors, Sir Templar, or the craven peasants of 
 France, most valiant De Bracy; but these are English yeo- 
 men, 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. Sally, saidst thou? we 
 have scarce men enough to defend the castle. The best of 
 mine are at York; so is all your band, De Bracy; and we 
 have scarcely twenty, besides the handful that were en- 
 gaged in this mad business." 
 
 " Thou dost not fear," said the Templar, " that they can 
 assemble in force sufficient to attempt the castle?" 
 
 "Not so, Sir Brian," answered Front-de-Bceuf. "These 
 outlaws have indeed a daring captain; but without machines, 
 I 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 a swineherd in the bar- 
 onial castle of Eeginald Front-de-Bceuf." 
 
 " You jest, Sir Knight," answered the baron; ' ' but to 
 whom should I send ? Malvoisin is by this time at York 
 with his retainers, and so are my other allies; and so should 
 I have been but for this infernal 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 Free Companions, I will give them credit 
 for the boldest outlaws ever bent bow in greenwood." 
 
 " And who shall bear such a message?" said Front-de- 
 Bceuf; "they will beset every path, and rip the errand out 
 of his bosom. I have it," he added, after pausing for a 
 
U& IVANSOM. 
 
 moment. '.' Sir Templar, thou canst write as well as read, 
 and if we can but find the writing materials of my chap- 
 lain, who died a twelvemonth since in the midst of his 
 Christmas carousals " 
 
 "So please ye," said the squire, who was still in attend- 
 ance, "I think old Urf ried 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 in courtesy to address to maid or matron." 
 
 "Go, search them out, Engelred," said Front-de-Bceuf; 
 " and then, Sir Templar, 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 Bois-Guilbert; "but be it as you will." 
 
 He sat down accordingly, and indited, in the French 
 language, an epistle of the following tenor: 
 
 "Sir Eeginald Front-de-Bceuf, with his noble and 
 knightly allies and confederates, receive 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 chivalry, 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, re- 
 turned 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 Wamba and 
 Gurth, with their allies, the Black Knight and Locksley, 
 and the jovial hermit, awaited with impatience an answer 
 
IVANBOE. Ml 
 
 to their summons. Around, and 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 equip- 
 ments being in all other respects the same. 
 
 Besides these bands, a less orderly and a worse armed 
 force, consisting of the Saxon inhabitants of the neighbor- 
 ing 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 neces- 
 sity sometimes converts to military purposes. Boar 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. These circumstances ren- 
 dered the assistance of the Saxons far from being so for- 
 midable to the besieged as the strength of the men them- 
 selves, 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 expo- 
 sition of its contents. 
 
 "By the crook of St. Dunstan," said that worthy ec- 
 clesiastic, " which hath brought more sheep within the 
 sheepfold than the crook of e'er another saint in Paradise, 
 I swear that I cannot expound unto you this jargon, which, 
 whether it be French or Arabic, is beyond my guess." 
 
 He then gave the letter to Gurth, who shook his head 
 gruffly, and passed it to Wamba. The Jester looked at 
 each of the four corners of the paper with such a grin of 
 affected intelligence as a monkey is apt to assume upon 
 similar occasions, then cut a caper, and gave the letter to 
 Locksley. 
 
 "If the long letters were bows, and the short letters 
 broad arrows, I might know something of the matter," 
 said the honest yeoman; "but as the matter stands, the 
 meaning is as safe, for me, as the stag that's at twelve 
 miles' distance." 
 
248 IYANHOE. 
 
 " I must be clerk, then," said the Black Knight, and 
 taking the letter from Locksley, 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 Gurth, 
 "we will 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 mammocks of freestone 
 and mortar." 
 
 "'Tis but a contrivance to gain time," said Locksley, 
 "they dare not do a deed for which I could exact a fear- 
 ful penalty." 
 
 "I would," said the Black Knight, "there were some 
 one among us who could obtain admission into the castle, 
 and discover how the case stands with the besieged. Me- 
 thinks, as they require a confessor to be sent, this holy 
 hermit might at once exercise his pious vocation, and pro- 
 cure us the information we desire." 
 
 "A plague on thee and thy advice!" said the good her- 
 mit; "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 twenty 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 
 that 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 assistance of the good hermit's frock, to- 
 gether with the priesthood, sanctity and learning which 
 are stitched into the cowl of it, I shall be found qualified 
 
IVANHOE. 249 
 
 to administer both worldly and ghostly comfort to our 
 worthy master Cedric and his companions in adversity." 
 
 "Hath he sense enough, think'st 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 Locksley, "we will beset 
 the place so closely, that not so much as a fly shall carry 
 news from thence. So that, my good friend," he con- 
 tinued, addressing Wamba, "thou mayst assure these 
 tyrants that whatever violence they exercise on the persons 
 of their prisoners shall be most severely repaid upon their 
 own." 
 
 " Pax voMscum," 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. 
 
250 I7ANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " 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 around his 
 middle, stood before the portal of the castle of Front-de- 
 Boeuf, the warder demanded of him his name and errand. 
 
 " Pax vobiscum," answered the Jester, "I am a 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 hath 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 shall crow, 
 that the whole castle shall hear him." 
 
 " Gramercy," said the warder; "but if I come to shame 
 for leaving my post upon thine errand, I will try whether 
 a friar's gray gown be proof against a gray-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 admis- 
 sion. With no small wonder he received his master's com- 
 mands 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 hair-brained self-conceit which had 
 emboldened Wamba to undertake this 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 
 
IYANEOE. 251 
 
 Reginald Front-de-Bceuf , and he brought out his Pax vobis- 
 cum, to which he, in a good measure, trusted for support- 
 ing his character, with more anxiety and hesitation than 
 had hitherto accompanied it. But Front-de-Bceuf 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. 
 
 " Pax votiscum," reiterated the Jester, " I am a poor 
 servant of St. Francis, who, traveling through this wilder- 
 ness, have fallen among thieves (as Scripture hath it), 
 quidam viator incidit 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." 
 
 " Ay, right," answered Front- de-Bceuf; " and canst thou 
 tell me, holy father, the number of those banditti?" 
 
 " Gallant sir," answered the Jester, " nomen illis legio, 
 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, " cor meum eructavit, 
 that is to say, I was like to burst with fear! but I conceive 
 they may be — what of yeomen, what of commons — at least 
 five hundred men." 
 
 " What!" said the Templar, who came into the hall that 
 moment, "muster the wasps so thick here? It is time to 
 stifle such a mischievous brood." Then taking Front-de- 
 Bceuf aside, " Knowest thou the priest?" 
 
 " He is a stranger from a distant convent," said Front- 
 de-Bceuf; " I know him not." 
 
 "Then trust him not with thy purpose in words," an- 
 swered the Templar. '" Let him carry a written order to 
 De Bracy's company of Free Companions to repair 
 instantly to their master's aid. In the meantime, and that 
 the shaveling 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-Bceuf. And he forth- 
 with appointed a domestic to conduct Wamba to the apart- 
 ment where Cedric and Athelstane were confined. 
 
 The impatience of Cedric had been rather enhanced than 
 diminished by his confinement. He walked from one end 
 
252 IVANHOE. 
 
 of the hall to the other, with the attitude of one who ad- 
 vances to charge an enemy, or to storm the breach of a be- 
 leagured place, sometimes ejaculating to himself, some- 
 times addressing Athelstane, who stoutly and stoically 
 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. 
 
 " Pax voiiscum," said the Jester, entering the apart- 
 ment; " the blessing of St. Dunstan, St. Denis, St. 
 Duthoc, 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 Jester. 
 
 "It is impossible!" replied Cedric, starting. "Fearless 
 and wicked as they are, they dare not attempt such open 
 and gratuitous cruelty?" 
 
 "Alas!" said the Jester, "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 Athelstane, 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, Athelstane?" said Cedric; "we must 
 rouse up our hearts to this last action, since better it is we 
 should die like men than like slaves." 
 
 "I am ready, "answered Athelstane, "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 into our holy gear, father," said Cedric. 
 _ " Wait yet a moment, good uncle," said the Jester, 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 jester," answered 
 "Wamba, throwing back his cowl. "Had you taken a 
 fool's adyjce formerly, you would not have been here at 
 
IVANEOB. 253 
 
 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 
 cowl, which are all the orders I ever had, and march 
 quietly out of the castle, leaving your cloak and girdle to 
 take the long leap in thy stead." 
 
 "Leave thee in rny stead?" said Cedric, astonished 
 at the proposal; "why, they would hang thee, my poor 
 knave." 
 
 "E'en let them do as they are permitted," said Wamba; 
 " 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 his ancestor the alderman." 
 
 "Well, Wamba," answered Cedric, "for one thing will 
 I grant thy request. And that is, if thou wilt make the 
 exchange of garments with Lord Athelstane instead of 
 me." 
 
 "No, by St. Dunstan," answered Wamba; "there were 
 little reason in that. Good right there is that the sun of 
 Witless should suffer to save the son of Hereward; 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 Athelstane were 
 monarchs of England!" 
 
 " They might be whomsoever they pleased," replied 
 Wamba; "but my neck stands too 'straight upon my 
 shoulders to have it twisted for their sake. Wherefore, my 
 good 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 
 Athelstane, my trusty Wamba! it is the duty of each who 
 has Saxon blood in his veins. Thou and I will abide to- 
 gether the utmost rage of oar injurious oppressors, while 
 he, free and safe, shall arouse the awakened spirits of our 
 countrymen to avenge us." 
 
 "Not so, father Cedric," said Athelstane, 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 stinted loaf, or drink, save 
 
254 IVANEOE. 
 
 the prisoner's measure of water, than embrace the oppor- 
 tunity to escape which the slave's untaught kindness has 
 purveyed for his master." 
 
 " You are called wise men, sirs," said the Jester, ' ' and 
 I a crazed fool; but, uncle Cedric, and cousin Athelstane, 
 the fool shall decide this controversy for ye, and save ye 
 the trouble of straining courtesies any further. I am like 
 John-a-Duck's mare, that will let no man mount \\er but 
 John-a-Duck. I came to save my master and if he will 
 not consent — basta — I can but go away home again. Kind 
 service cannot be chucked from hand to hand like a shuttle- 
 cock or stool-ball. I'll hang for no man but my own born 
 master." 
 
 "Go, then, noble Cedric," said Athelstane, "neglect 
 not this opportunity. Your presence without may en- 
 courage friends to our rescue — your remaining here would 
 ruin us all." 
 
 " And is there any prospect, then, of rescue from with- 
 out?'' said Cedric, looking at the Jester. 
 
 "Prospect, indeed!" echoed Wamba; "let me tell you, 
 when you fill my cloak, you are wrapt in a general's cas- 
 sock. Five hundred men are there without, and I was 
 this morning one of their chief leaders. My fool's cap 
 was a casque, and my bauble a truncheon. Well, we shall 
 see what good they will make by exchanging a fool for a 
 wise man. Truly, I fear they will lose in valor what they 
 may gain in discretion. And so farewell, master, and be 
 kind to poor Gurth and his dog Fangs; and let my cocks- 
 comb hang in the hall at Kotherwood, 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 expres- 
 sion, betwixt jest and earnest. The tears stood in Cedric's 
 eyes. 
 
 "Thy memory shall be preserved," he said "while 
 fidelity and affection have honor upon earth. But that I 
 trust I shall find the means of saving Eowena and thee, 
 Athelstane, and thee, also, my poor Wamba, thou shouldst 
 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 
 
IVANHOE. 255 
 
 few words of their mincing Norman. How shall I bear 
 myself like a reverend brother?" 
 
 "The spell lies in two words," replied Wamba. "Pax 
 vobiscum will answer all queries. If you go or come, eat 
 or drink, bless or ban, Pax vobiscum carries you through 
 it all. It is as useful to a friar as a broom-stick to a witch, 
 or a wand to a conjurer. Speak it but thus, in a deep grave 
 tone — Pax vobiscum! — it is irresistible. Watch and ward, 
 knight and squire, foot and horse, it acts as a charm upon 
 them all. I think, if they bring me out to be hanged 
 to-morrow, as is much to be doubted they may, I will try 
 its weight upon the finisher of the sentence." 
 
 " If such prove the case," said his master, " my religious 
 orders are soon taken — Pax vobiscum. I trust I shall re- 
 member the pass-word. Noble Athelstane, farewell, and 
 farewell my poor boy, whose heart might make amends for a 
 weaker head — 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 Oedric," said Athelstane; " remember 
 it is the true part of a friar to accept refreshment, if you 
 are offered any." 
 
 " Farewell, uncle," added Wamba; " and remember Pax 
 vobiscum." 
 
 Thus exhorted Oedric 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 inter- 
 rupted by a female form. 
 
 " Pax vobiscum!" said the pseudo friar, and was endeavor- 
 ing to hurry past, when a soft voice replied, " Et vobis — 
 qumso, domine reverendissime, pro misericordia vestra." 
 
 "I am somewhat deaf," replied Oedric, in good Saxon 
 and at the same time muttered to himself, " a curse on the 
 fool and his Pax vobiscum! 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 
 addressed Oedric knew full well, 
 
256 IVANHO& 
 
 "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 Gedric, much embarrassed, " my 
 time in this castle will not permit me to exercise the duties 
 of mine office — I must presently forth — 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 Ifrin 
 with the souls of Odin and of Thor!" answered Gedric, 
 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 
 Urfried, 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? Puttest 
 thou the reverend man to use ungracious language to free 
 himself from the importunities of a Jewess?" 
 
 "A Jewess?" said Cedric, availing himself of the infor- 
 mation to get clear of 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," replied the old hag, "thou 
 art a stranger in this castle, and canst not leave it without 
 a guide. Gome 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!" 
 
 Eebecca retreated. Her importunities had prevailed 
 upon Urfried to suffer her to quit the turret, and Urfried 
 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 danger- 
 ous situation, and prompt to avail herself of each means 
 of safety which occurred, Rebecca had hoped something 
 from the presence of a man of religion, who, she learned 
 
IVANBOE. 257 
 
 from Urfried, 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. 
 
258 IVANMO& 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 " Pond wretch 1 and what canst thou relate 
 But deeds of sorrow, shame, and sin ? 
 Thy deeds are proved — thou know'st 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. " 
 
 — Grabbe's Hall of Justice. 
 
 When Urfried had, with clamors and menaces, driven 
 Eebecca 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 heedf ully secured. Then 
 fetching from a cupboard a stoup 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 board of their conquerors," answered Urfried, 
 "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 
 
tVAXtHOR 259 
 
 debauched Norman chaplain who partook the nightly 
 revels of Front-de-Boeuf, and 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 begone 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 Urfried; "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, look- 
 ing upward, as she finished her draught, "but it cannot 
 cheer. Partake it, father, if you would hear my tale with- 
 out 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 compliance. 
 
 " I was not born," she said, " father, the wretch that 
 thou now seest me. I was free, was happy, was honored, 
 loved, and was beloved. I am now a slave, miserable and 
 degraded — the sport of my masters' passions while I had 
 yet beauty — the object of their contem t, 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 Torquilstone, before whose frown a 
 thousand vassals trembled?" 
 
 "Thou the daughter of Torquil 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 Urfried; "then Cedric, 
 called the Saxon, stands before me, for the noble Hereward 
 of Kotherwood had but one son, whose name is well-known 
 
260 1VANB6B. 
 
 among his countrymen. But if thou art Cedric of Rother- 
 wood, 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 here- 
 after 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 mur- 
 derer, 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 a 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 — lived 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 bands of 
 lawless love!" 
 
 "In lawless bands, 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 Front- 
 de-Bceuf 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 poinard — no knife — no bodkin ! 
 Well was it for thee, since thou didst prize such an exist- 
 ence, that the secrets of a Norman castle are like those of 
 the 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 
 
IVANHOE. 261 
 
 name of Torquil?" said Ulrica, for we may now lay aside 
 her assumed name of Urfried; "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, 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, Ulrica," replied Cedric, in a tone 
 of grief, mixed with abhorrence; "these traces form such 
 a resemblance as arises from the grave of the dead, when a 
 fiend has animated the lifeless corpse." 
 
 " Be it so," answered Ulrica; " yet were these fiendish 
 features the mask of a spirit of light when they were able 
 to set at variance the elder Front-de-Boeuf and his son 
 Beginald! The darkness of hell should hide what fol- 
 • lowed, but revenge must lift the veil, and darkly intimate 
 what it would raise the dead to speak aloud. Long had the 
 smoldering 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 are the secrets these vaults conceal! 
 Rend asunder, ye accursed arches," she added, looking up 
 towards the roof, " and bury in your fall all who are con- 
 scious of the hidden 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 or 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 or groans of new victims of oppression." 
 
262 IVANHO& 
 
 " Ulrica," 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 the'e to olie who wears this robe? Consider, un- 
 happy wom&iij what could the sainted Edward himself do 
 for tliee, were he here in bodily presence? The Eoyal 
 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 ter- 
 minate 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 turn to 
 Woden, Hertha and Zernebock — to Mista, 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 Ulrica, "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 Ulrica;, "leave me not now, 
 son of my father's friend, lest the demon who has gov- 
 erned my life should tempt me to avenge myself of thy 
 hard-hearted scorn. Thinkest thou, if Front-de-Bceuf 
 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 Front-de-Bceuf himself is less odious to 
 me than thou, degraded and degenerate as thou art." 
 
IVANSOW. 263 
 
 "Be it so," said Ulrica, no longer interrupting him; 
 " go thy way, and forget, in the insolence of thy superior- 
 ity, that the wretch before thee is the daughter of thy 
 father's friend. Go thy way — if I am separated from man- 
 kind 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." 
 
 "Ulrica," 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 re- 
 pentance were thy fitter occupation?" 
 
 " Cedric," answered Ulrica, " 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 conscious- 
 ness of power; draughts too intoxicating for the human 
 heart to bear, and yet retain the power to prevent. Their 
 force has long passed away. Age has no pleasure, 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 influences 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 
 Ulrica, 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 a 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 bow and mangonel. Begone, I pray 
 thee — follow thine own fate, and leave me to mine." 
 
264 IVANHOB. 
 
 Cedric would have inquired further into the purpose 
 which she thus darkly announced, but the stern voice of 
 Front -de-Bceuf was "heard, exclaiming, "Where tarries 
 this loitering priest? By the scallop-shell of Compostella, 
 I will make a martyr of him if he loiters here to hatch 
 treason among my domestics!" 
 
 "What a true prophet," said Ulrica, "is an evil con- 
 science! But heed him not — out and to thy people — Cry 
 your Saxon onslaught, and let them sing their war song of 
 Eollo, if they will; vengeance shall bear a burden to it." 
 
 As she thus spoke she vanished through a private door, 
 and Keginald Front-de-Bceuf 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 penitents, 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 Front-de-Bceuf, " thy 
 speech, methinks, smacks of a Saxon tongue." 
 
 " I was bred in the convent of St. Withold 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. Withold's of 
 Burton is a howlet's nest worth the harrying. The day 
 will soon come that the frock shall protect the Saxon as 
 little as the mail-coat." 
 
 " God's will be done," said Cedric, in a voice tremulous 
 with passion, which Front-de-Bceuf imputed to fear. 
 
 " I see," said he, " 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 dis- 
 miss thee by the postern." 
 
IVANHOE. 265 
 
 And as he strode on his way before the supposed friar, 
 Front-dc-Bceuf 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 Torquilstone. Tell 
 them whatever thou hast a mind of the weakness of this 
 fortalice, or aught else that can detain them before it for 
 twenty-four hours. Meantime, bear thou this scroll. But 
 soft — canst read, Sir Priest?" 
 
 "Not a jot I," answered Cedrie, "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. Carry thou this 
 scroll to the castle of Philip de Malvoisin; say it cometh 
 from me, and is written by the Templar, Brian de Bois- 
 Guilbert, 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 battlements. Shame on it that we should be com- 
 pelled to hide thus by a pack of runagates, who are wont 
 ever 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, until 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 Cedrie, 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." 
 
 " Ha I" said Front-de-Bceuf, " 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 thy- 
 self of kindred to the swine !" 
 
 Cedrie was no ready practicer of the art of dissimula- 
 tion, 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 invention, and 
 he muttered something under his cowl concerning the 
 men in question being excommunicated outlaws both to 
 church and to kingdom, 
 
266 IVANHOE. 
 
 " Despardieux," answered Front- de-Bceuf, "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 yon- 
 der 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 Gnaltier, of Middleton,one of 
 our own companions at-arms. But they were Saxons who 
 robbed the chapel of St. Bees of cup, candlestick, and 
 chalice, were they not ?" 
 
 " They were godless men," answered Cedric. 
 
 " Ay, 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. Withold knows my heart." 
 
 Front-de-Bceuf, in the meanwhile, led the way to a pos- 
 tern, where, passing the moat on a single plank, they 
 reached a small barbican, or exterior defence, which com- 
 municated 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, thon shalt see Saxon 
 flesh cheap as ever was hog's 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 Nor- 
 man , and, as they parted at the postern door, he thrust 
 into Cedric's reluctant hand a gold byzant, adding, "Ee- 
 member, 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 thy hand." Turning then back 
 toward the castle, he threw the piece of gold toward the 
 donor, exclaiming at the same time, " False Norman, thy 
 money perish with thee." 
 
 Front-de-Bceuf heard the words imperfectly, but the 
 action was suspicious, " Archers," he called to the ward- 
 
IVANHOE. 267 
 
 <ers on the outward battlements, "send me an arrow 
 •through yon monk's frock! — yet stay," lie said, as his re- 
 tainers 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. Ho! Giles, 
 ;gaoler, let them bring Cedric of Eotherwood before me, 
 ;and the other churl, his companion — him I mean of Con- 
 ingsburgh — Athelstane there, or what call they him? 
 Their very names are an incumbrance to a Norman knight's 
 mouth, and have, as it were, a flavor of baeon. Give me 
 a stdup of wine, as jolly Prince John said, that I may wash 
 away the relish — place it in the armory, and thither lead 
 the prispners." 
 
 His commands were obeyed; and upon entering that 
 Gothic apartment, hung with many spoils won by his own 
 valor 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 dependants. Front-de-Boeuf 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 neighbors, and seldom 
 stirred beyond his own domains) prevented him from dis- 
 covering that the most important of his captives had made 
 his escape. 
 
 " Gallants of England," said Front-de-Bceuf, " how relish 
 ye your entertainment at Torquilstone? Are ye yet aware 
 what your surquedy and outrecuidance * merit for scoffing 
 at the entertainment of a Prince of the House of Anjou? 
 Have you forgotten how you requited the unmerited hos- 
 pitality 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, ye 
 Saxon dogs — what bid ye for your worthless lives? How 
 say you, you of Eotherwood?" 
 
 " Not a doit I," answered poor Wamba — "and for hang- 
 ing up by the feet, my brain has been topsy-turvy, they 
 
 * Surquedy and outrecuidance — insolence and presumption. 
 
268 IVANHOE. 
 
 say, ever since the biggin was bound first round my head; 
 so turning me upside down may peradventure restore it 
 again." 
 
 "St. Genevieve!" said Front-de-Bceuf, "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 Front-de-Bceuf ; 
 " they shall hang on the same gallows, unless his master 
 and this boar of Coningsburgh 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 immuni- 
 ties, 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 attend- 
 ants, "fetch me the right Cedric hither, and I pardon 
 your error for once; the rather that you mistook a fool for 
 a Saxon Franklin." 
 
 "Ay, but," said Wamba, "your chivalrous excellency 
 will find there are more fools than Franklins among us." 
 
 "What means the knave?" said Front-de-Bceuf, looking 
 toward his followers, who, lingering and loath, faltered 
 forth their belief, that if this were not Cedric who was 
 there in presence, they knew not what was become of him. ' 
 
 "Saints of Heaven!" exclaimed De Bracy, "he must 
 have escaped in the monk's garments!" 
 
 "Fiends of hell!" echoed Front-de-Bceuf, "it was then 
 the boar of Botherwood whom I ushered to the postern, 
 and dismissed him with my own hands! And thou," he 
 said to Wamba, "whose folly could overreach the wisdom 
 of idiots yet more gross then 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 
 
IYANROE. 269 
 
 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 pro- 
 pose, out of a simple monk you will make a cardinal." 
 
 " The poor wretch," said De Bracy, " is resolved to die in 
 his vocation. Front-de-Boeuf, you shall not slay him. 
 Give him to me to make sport for my Free Companions. 
 How sayest thou, knave? Wilt thou take heart of grace, 
 and go to the wars with me?" 
 
 " Ay, 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, a Norman saw will soon cut a Saxon collar," said 
 De Braoy. 
 
 " Ay, noble sir," said Wamba, " and thence goes the 
 proverb: 
 
 " ' Norman saw an English oak, 
 On English neck a Norman yoke ; 
 Norman spoon in English -dish, 
 And England ruled as Norman wish ; 
 Blithe world in England never will be more, 
 Till England's rid of all the four.' " 
 
 " Thou dost well, De Bracy," said Front-de-Boeuf, " 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 gentle- 
 man 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, and let him fight but 
 half as well for his life as he has done for his order. Make 
 thou to 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 Torquilstone; or, if you will treat with the 
 banditti, why not employ the mediation of this worthy 
 
270 IVANHOE. 
 
 Franklin, who seems in such deep contemplation of the 
 wine-flagon? Here, Saxon," he continued, addressing 
 Athelstane, and handing the cnp 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 mold 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 around the castle, contrary 
 to God's peace and the king's?" said Front-de-Bceuf. 
 
 " In so far as I can," answered Athelstane, " I will with- 
 draw them; and I fear not but that my father Cedric will 
 do his best to assist me." 
 
 "We are agreed then," said Front-de-Bceuf, "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 modera- 
 tion which accepts of it in exchange of your person. But 
 mark, this extends not to the Jew Isaac." 
 
 " Nor to the Jew Isaac's daughter," said the Templar, 
 who had now joined them. 
 
 " Neither," said Front-de-Bceuf, " belong to this Saxon's 
 company." 
 
 " I were unworthy to be called Christian if they did," 
 replied Athelstane: "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 Front-de-Bceuf, " 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 Athelstane, 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 Lady Rowena the affianced 
 bride of a vassal like thee?" said De Bracy. " Saxon, thou 
 dreamest that the days of thy seven kingdoms are returned 
 
IVANHOE. 271 
 
 again. I tell thee, the Princes of the House of Airioii 
 confer not their wards on men of such lineage as thine. 
 
 " My lineage, proud Norman," replied Athelstane, "is 
 drawn from a source more pure and ancient than that of a 
 heggarly 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 by Wittenagemotes; whose bones were interred 
 amid the prayers of saints, and over whose tombs minsters 
 have been builded." 
 
 "Thou hast it, De Bracy," said Front-de-Bceuf, 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 Athelstane, " will not 
 win the freedom of the Lady Bowena." 
 
 To this, Athelstane, 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 Front-de-Boeuf, " have we a real monk this 
 time, or another imposter? Search him, slaves — for an ye 
 suffer a second imposter to be palmed upon you, I will 
 have your eyes torn out, and hot coals put in 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 Jorvaulx." 
 
 "Admit him," said Front de-Bceuf; "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. Be- 
 move these prisoners; and, Saxon, think on what thou hast 
 heard." 
 
 "I claim/' said Athelstane^ "an honorable imprison- 
 
272 IVANEOB. 
 
 merit, with due care of my board and of my conch, 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 
 of 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 Front- 
 de-Boeuf; "nor shalt thou, MauriceDe 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 Deus vobiscum," said Wamba, as he 
 passed the reverend brother; " the others were but coun- 
 terfeits." 
 
 " 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 Christian- 
 ity, here is the stout Baron Keginald Front-de-Bceuf, 
 whose utter abomination is a Jew; and the good Knight 
 Templar, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 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, Aymer, Prior of Jorvaulx," 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 Be Givitate 
 Dei " 
 
 "What saith the devil!" said Front-de-Bceuf; " or rather, 
 what dost thou say, Sir Prior? We have little time to hear 
 texts from the holy fathers." 
 
 " Sancta Maria!" ejaculated Father Ambrose, "how 
 prompt to ire are those unhallowed laymen! But be it 
 
IVANBOB, M$ 
 
 known to you, brave knights, that certain murderous cai- 
 tiffs, casting behind them fear of God, and reverence of his 
 church, and not regarding the bull of the holy see, Si quis, 
 suadente Didbolo " 
 
 "Brother priest," said the Templar, "all this we know 
 or guess at — tell us plainly, is thy master, the Prior, made 
 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 
 prophets nought of evil.'" 
 
 "Here is a new argument for our swords, sirs," said 
 Front-de-Bceuf, turning to his companions; " and so, in- 
 stead of reaching us any assistance, the Prior of Jorvaulx 
 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 doth thy master expect from 
 us?" 
 
 " So please yon," 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 besides, ere they will suffer 
 him to depart from their uncircumcised hands. Wherefore 
 the reverend father in God prays 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 dis- 
 cretion." I 
 
 " The foul fiend quell the Prior!" said Front-de-Bceuf; 
 " 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 valor 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 hastiness 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 the. 
 castle." 
 
274 iVAirSOB. 
 
 "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 bartisan, 
 or projecting balcony, and immediately called from thence 
 to those in the apartment. "St. Denis, but the old 
 monk hath brought true tidings! They bring forward 
 mantelets and pavisses,* and the archers muster on the 
 skirts of the wood like a dark cloud before a hail-storm." 
 
 Eeginald Front-de-Bceuf 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-Guilbert, thy trade hath 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 succor 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 ye hear the message of the 
 reverend father in God, Aymer, Prior of Jorvaulx? I 
 beseech thee to hear me, noble Sir Eeginald!" 
 
 "Go patter thy petitions to Heaven," said the fierce 
 Norman, " for we on earth have no time to listen to them. 
 Ho, there, Anselm! see that seething pitch and oil are 
 ready to pour on the heads of those audacious traitors — 
 look that the cross-bow-men lack not bolts, f Fling abroad 
 my banner with the old bull's head — the knaves shall soon 
 find with whom they have to do this day!" 
 
 * Mantelets were temporary and movable defenses formed of 
 planks, under cover of which the assailants advanced to the attack 
 of fortified places of old. Pavisses were a species of large shields 
 covering the whole person, employed on the same occasions. 
 
 f The bolt was the arrow peculiarly fitted to the cross-bow, as 
 that of the long-bow was called a shaft. Hence the English proverb : 
 " I will either make a shift or bolt of it," signifying a determina- 
 tion to make one use or other of the thing spoken of. 
 
IVANBOE S75 
 
 " But, noble sir/' continued the monk, persevering in 
 his endeavors to draw attention, "consider my vow of 
 obedience, and let me discharge myself of my Superior's 
 errand." 
 
 " Away with this prating dotard," said Front-de-Boeuf, 
 "lock him up in the chapel, to tell his beads till the broil 
 be over. It will be a new thing to the saints in Torquil- 
 stone to hear aves and paters; they have not been so 
 honored, 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 Front-de- 
 Bceuf, " unless we were to hurl them from the battlements, 
 on the heads of the villains. There is a large lumbering 
 St. Christopher yonder, sufficient to bear a whole com- 
 pany to the earth." 
 
 The Templar had in the meantime been looking out on 
 the proceedings of the besiegers, with rather more atten- 
 tion than the brutal Front-de-Boeuf or 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 dexter- 
 ously they avail themselves of every cover which a tree or 
 bush affords, and shun exposing themselves to the shot of 
 our cross-bows? I spy neither banner nor pennon among 
 them, and yet will I gage my golden chain that they are led 
 on by some noble knight or gentleman, skillful in the 
 practice of wars." 
 
 " I espy him," said De Bracy; " I see the waving of a 
 knight's crest, and the gleam of his armor. See yon tall 
 man in the black mail, who is busied marshaling the further 
 troop of the rascaille yeomen. By St. Denis, I hold him to 
 be the same whom we called Le Noir Faineant, who over- 
 threw thee, Front-de-Boeuf, in the lists at Ashby." 
 
 " So much the better," said Front-de-Boeuf, " that he 
 comes here to give me my revenge. Some hilding fellow 
 must he 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." 
 
2?6 IVANHOK 
 
 The demonstrations of the enemy's immediate approach 
 cut off all further 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. 
 
IVANBOE. 277 
 
 CHAPTEK XXVIII. 
 
 " This wandering race, sever'd 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 undream'd 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 sank down, and seemed abandoned by 
 all the world, it was the importunity of Eebecca which pre- 
 vailed 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. 
 j It would not have been difficult to have persuaded Isaac 
 i 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 hacqueton, and his corslet of goodly price — 
 but to carry him to our house! — damsel, hast thou well con- 
 sidered? — 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." 
 
 "I would I knew what the Rabbi Jacob Ben Tudela 
 would opine on it," replied Isaac; " nevertheless, the good 
 
218 IVANHOE. 
 
 youth must not bleed to death. Let Seth and Keuben beai' 
 him to Ashby." 
 
 " Nay, let them place him in my litter/' said Rebecca; 
 " 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 suspicions 
 glance toward the crowds of knights and squires. But 
 Rebecca was already busied in carrying her charitable pur- 
 pose into effect, and listened not to 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 Rebecca, 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, "itgrieveth me as 
 much to see the drops of blood, as if they were so many 
 golden byzants from mine own purse; and I well know 
 that the lessons of Miriam, daughter of the Rabbi 
 Manasses of Byzantium, whose soul is in Paradise, have 
 made thee skillful in the art of healing, and that thou 
 knowest the craft of herbs, and the force of elixirs. There- 
 fore, 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-Guilbert. 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 trans- 
 ported 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 
 
1VANH0E. 279 
 
 Surgery, and how frequently the gallant knight submitted 
 the wounds of his person to her care, whose eyes had yet 
 more deeply penetrated his heart. 
 
 But the Jews, both male and female, possessed and 
 practiced the medical science in all its branches, and the 
 monarchs and powerful barons of the time frequently com- 
 mitted 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 abhor- 
 rence with a Jewish usurer, but he could not be equally 
 despised. It is besides probable, considering the wonder- 
 ful cures they are said to have performed, that the Jews 
 possessed some secrets of the healing art peculiar to them- 
 selves, and which, with the exclusive spirit arising out of 
 the condition, they took great care to conceal from the 
 Christians among whom they dwelt. 
 
 The beautiful Rebecca had been needfully 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. 
 
 Rebecca, 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 men- 
 
280 IVANHOE. 
 
 tioned in sacred history. Her father himself, out of ref- 
 erence for her talents, "which involuntarily mingled itself 
 with his unhouDded 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 the exertions in 
 the lists. Kebecca examined the wound, and having ap- 
 plied 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 he might 
 with safety travel to York with them on the ensuing day. 
 Isaac looked a little blank at this annunciation. 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 dis- 
 covered; the other, that this wounded knight, Wilfred of 
 Ivanhoe, was an intimate favorite of Richard Cceur-de- 
 Lion, and that, in case the monarch should return, Isaac, 
 who had supplied his brother John with treasure to prose- 
 cute his rebellious purposes, would stand in no small need 
 of a powerful protector who enjoyed Richard's favor. 
 
 "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 
 
IVANHOE, 281 
 
 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 dealings 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 
 Lion Heart shall return to the land, as is now noised 
 abroad, then shall this Wilfred of Ivanhoe be unto me as a 
 wall of defense, when the king's displeasure shall burn 
 high against thy father. And if he doth not return, this 
 Wilfred may natheless 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 succoreth 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 yester- 
 day. A sense of wounds and injury, joined to great weak- 
 ness and exhaustion, was mingled with the recollection of 
 blows dealt and received, of steeds rushing upon each 
 other, overthrowing and overthrown — of shouts and clash- 
 ing 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 magnifi- 
 cently 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 
 
 -.? 
 
282 IVANEOM. 
 
 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 civilized 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 at- 
 tendance on a sick-bed, or in dressing the wound of one of 
 a different sex, was melted away and lost in that of a be- 
 neficent being contributing her effectual aid to relieve pain, 
 and to avert the stroke of death. Rebecca'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 Rebecca, the romantic and pleasing 
 effect which fancy ascribes to the charms pronounced by 
 some beneficent fairy, uninte 1 ligible, indeed, to the ear, 
 but, from the sweetness of 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 these were completed, and his kind phy- 
 sician 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 under- 
 stood by the turbaned and caftaned 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 in- 
 stant a face whose general expression was that of contem- 
 plative melancholy. "I am of England, Sir Knight, and 
 speak the English tongue, although my dress and my line- 
 age belong to another climate." 
 
IVANHOE. 283 
 
 " 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 neces- 
 sarily demands." 
 
 I know not whether the fair Eowena 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 
 Eebecca; 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 toward a Jewess. This Eebecca 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 weak- 
 ness—she could not but sigh internally when the glance of 
 respectful admiration, not altogether unmixed with tender- 
 ness, with which Ivanhoe had hitherto regarded his un- 
 known 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 Eebecca, who could not be supposed alto- 
 gether ignorant of her title to such homage, into a de- 
 graded class, to whom it could not be honorably rendered. 
 
 But the gentleness and candor of Bebecca's nature im- 
 puted no fault to Ivanhoe for sharing in the universal 
 prejudices of his age and religion. On the contrary, the 
 fair Jewess, though sensible her patient now regarded her 
 as one of a race of reprobation, with whom it was disgrace- 
 ful to hold any beyond the most necessary intercourse, 
 
284 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 further 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 armor? 
 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 
 Waltheoff, the Abbot of St. Withold's, to whom he was 
 related?" 
 
 "Any, the worst of these harborages," 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 well 
 know, can cure wounds, though we deal not in inflicting 
 them; and in our family, in particular, are 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 con- 
 formable to my directions," replied Bebecca. 
 
 " 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 casque full of crowns, 
 come by them as I may." 
 
 "I will accomplish my promise," said Rebecca, "and 
 thou shalt bear thine armor on the eighth day from hence, 
 if thou wilt grant me but one boon instead of the Silver 
 thou dost promise me," 
 
IVANHOE. 285 
 
 " 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 Eebecca, "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 bless- 
 ing of the Great Father, who made both Jew and Gentile." 
 
 "It were sin to doubt it, maiden," replied Ivanhoe; 
 "and I repose myself on thy skill without further scruple 
 or question, 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 " 
 
 Hs stopped, as if unwilling to speak Eowena'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 valor," replied Eebecca. 
 
 The blood which Ivanhoe had lost did not prevent a 
 flush from crossing his cheek, feeling that he had incau- 
 tiously betrayed his deep interest in Eowena 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 faith- 
 ful squire, and why he now attends me not!" 
 
 " Let me use my authority as a leech," answered Ee- 
 becca, " and enjoin you to keep silence, and avoid agitat- 
 ing reflections, while I apprise you of what you desire to 
 know. Prince John hath broken off the tournament, and 
 set forward in all haste toward 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 whom are esteemed the wealthy of the land. It is 
 said he designs to assume his brother's crown." 
 
 "Not without a blow struck in his defense," said Ivan- 
 hoe, raising himself upon the couch, "if there were but one 
 true subject in England. I will fight for Eichard's title 
 with the best of them — ay, one to two, in his just quarrel?" 
 
 " But that you may be able to do so," said Eebecca, 
 touching his shoulder with her hand, "you must now 
 pbserve my directions, and remain quiet." 
 
286 IVANHOE. 
 
 " True, maiden," said Ivanhoe; " as quiet as these dis- 
 quieted 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 learned that Cedric and Athelstane of Coniiigsburgh 
 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 Eowena," said Eebecca, answering the ques- 
 tion with more precision than it had been asked. "The 
 Lady Eowena went not to the Prince's feast, and, as the 
 steward reported to us, she is now on her journey back to 
 Eotherwood, with her guardian, Cedric. And touching 
 your faithful squire, Gurth " 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed the knight, "knowest thon his name? 
 But thou dost," he immediately added, " and well thou 
 mayest, for it was from thy hand, and, as I am now con- 
 vinced, from thine own generosity of spirit, that he 
 received but yesterday a hundred zecchins." 
 
 "Speak not of that," said Eebecca, 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 
 honor is concerned in repaying it to your father." 
 
 "Let it be as thou wilt," said Eebecca, "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 Gurth, and I have done with questioning 
 
 " 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, " But the steward, Oswald, 
 said, that if nothing occurred to renew his master's dis- 
 pleasure against him, he was sure that Cedric would 
 pardon Gurth, a faithful serf, and one who stood high in 
 favor, and who had but committed this error out of the 
 
TVANHOE. 287 
 
 love that he bore to Oedric'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 Oedric'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 honored 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 loyal 
 service to me. Thou seest, maiden, what an ill-fated 
 wretch thou dost labor to assist; be wise, and let me go, 
 ere the misfortunes, which track my footsteps like slot- 
 hounds, shall involve thee also in their pursuit." 
 
 "Nay," said Rebecca, "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 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 mayst 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 ad- 
 ministered was of a sedative and narcotic quality, and 
 secured the patient 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 
 traveling with ease, In one circumstance, only, even the 
 
288 IVAN HOE. 
 
 entreaties of Eebecca were unable to secure sufficient atten- 
 tion to the accommodation of the wounded knight. Isaac, 
 like the enriched traveler 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. 
 Withold's. Yet such was the virtue of Miriam's balsam, 
 or such the strength of Ivanhoe's constitution, that he did 
 not sustain from the journey that inconvenience which his 
 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 traveling 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 Nor- 
 mans stigmatized as laziness and gluttony. Eeversing 
 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 be- 
 tween 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 discon- 
 tented mercenaries on whose protection he had relied, 
 without using the means necessary to secure their attach- 
 ment. 
 
 In this deplorable condition the Jew, with his daughter 
 and her wounded patient, were found by Cedric, as has 
 already been noticed, and soon afterward 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 
 lopked into it under the impression that it might contain 
 
the object of his enterprise, for Eowena 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 protec- 
 tion for himself and his friends, frankly avowed himself to 
 be Wilfred of Ivanhoe. 
 
 The ideas of chivalrous honor, which, amidst his wildness 
 and levity,never utterly abandoned De Bracy,prohibited him 
 from doing the knight any injury in his defenceless condi- 
 tion, and equally interdicted his betraying him to Front- 
 de-Bceuf, who would have had no scruples to put to death, 
 under any circumstances, the rival claimant of the fief of 
 Ivanhoe. On the other hand to liberate a suitor preferred 
 by the Lady Eowena, 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 Bracy's generosity. A middle course 
 betwixt good and evil was all which he found himself capa- 
 ble 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 Eowena was em- 
 ployed 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 treas- 
 ure and the other on his daughter, De Bracy's squires con- 
 veyed Ivanhoe, still under the name of a wounded com- 
 rade, to a distant apartment. This explanation was accord- 
 ingly returned by these men to Front-de-Bceuf, when he 
 questioned them why they did not make for the battle- 
 ments 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 leauger 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 battle- 
 ments, ye loitering villains !" he exclaimed, raising his 
 stentorian voice till the arches around rung again ; "to 
 
290 IVANHOJS. 
 
 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 Front-de- 
 Boeuf 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 an we stand not to 
 it the more stoutly. But I will relieve the guard upon 
 this caitiff companion of yours. Here Urfried — hag — fiend 
 of a Saxon witch — hearest me not ? — tend me this bed- 
 ridden fellow, since he must needs be tended, whilst these 
 knaves use their weapons. Here be two arblasts, comrades, 
 with windlaces and quarrells* — 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 Urfried, or Ulrica. 
 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. 
 
 * The arblast was a cross-bow, the windlace the machine used 
 in bending that weapon, and the quarrell, so called from its square or 
 diamond shaped head, was the bolt adapted to it. 
 
tVANEOE. 291 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 " Ascend the watch-tower yonder, valiant soldier, 
 Look on the field, and say how goes the battle." 
 
 — Schiller's Maid of Orleans. 
 
 A moment of peril is often a moment of open-hearted 
 kindness and affection. We are thrown off our guard by 
 the general agitation of our feelings, and betray the inten- 
 sity of those, which, at more tranquil periods, our pru- 
 dence at least conceals, if it cannot altogether suppress 
 them. In finding herself once more by the side of Ivan- 
 hoe, Eebecca 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 soft- 
 ness 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 of 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 Eebecca, to thy 
 helpful skill." 
 
 "He calls me dear Eebecca," 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. Prom 
 the speeches of these men who were my warders just now, I 
 learn that I am a prisoner, and if I judge aright of the 
 
m 1VANH0E. 
 
 loud hoarse voice, which even now despatched them hence 
 on some military duty, I am in the castle of Front-de- 
 Boeuf. If so, how will this end, or how can I protect 
 Eowena and my father?" 
 
 " He names not the Jew or Jewess," said Bebecca, in- 
 ternally; " yet what is our portion in him, and how justly 
 am 1 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 Front-de-Bcef, were commanders within the 
 castle; that it was beleagured 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, Bebecca, if thou canst — say a sick man requires 
 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?" 
 
 Bebecca, 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 Urfried, who had been also on 
 the watch to intercept the supposed monk. Bebecca re- 
 tired 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, occa- 
 sioned by the defensive preparations, which had been con- 
 siderable for some time, now increased into tenfold bustle 
 and clamor. 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 
 bartisans 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 armor, or the clamorous shouts of those 
 whom they addressed. Tremendous as the sounds were, 
 and yet more terrible from the awful event which they 
 presaged, there was a sublimity mixed with them, which 
 Bebecca's high-toned mind could feel even in that moment 
 
IVANHOE. 293 
 
 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 whisper- 
 ing 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 snouting!" 
 
 But Ivanhoe was like the war-horse of that sublime pas- 
 sage, 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 my- 
 self," 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-ax 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 Kebecca, 
 "the sounds have ceased of a sudden — it may be they join 
 not battle." 
 
 " Thou knowest nought of it," said Wilfred, impatiently; 
 "this dead pause only shows that the men are. at their 
 posts on the walls, and are expecting an instant attack; 
 what we have heard was but the distant 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 with- 
 out." 
 
 "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 forever miserable for having given the 
 occasion; at least, cover thyself with yonder ancient buck- 
 ler, and show as little of your person at the lattice as 
 may be." 
 
 Following with wonderful promptitude the directions of 
 
294 iVANSOfi. 
 
 Ivanhoe, and availing herself of the protection of the largg 
 ancient shield, which she placed against the lower part of 
 the window, Eebecca, 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 favorable for this purpose, 
 because, being placed on an angle of the main building, 
 Eebecca could not only see what passed beyond the pre- 
 cincts of the castle, but also commanded a view of the out- 
 work 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 Front-de- 
 Bceuf. 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. Eebecca 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 seem lined with 
 archers, although only a few are advanced from its dark 
 shadow." 
 
 " Under what banner?" asked Ivanhoe. 
 
 "Under no ensign of war which I can observe," an- 
 swered Eebecca. 
 
 "A singular novelty," muttered the knight, "to ad- 
 vance to storm such a castle without pennon or banner 
 displayed! Seest thou who they be that act as leaders?" 
 
 "A knight, clad in sable armor, is the most conspicu- 
 ous," 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. 
 
IVANSoS. 295 
 
 " Something resembling a bar of iron, and a padlock 
 painted blue on the black shield."* 
 
 "A fetterlock and shacklebolt azure," said Ivanhoe; 
 " I know not who may bear the device, but well I ween it 
 might now be mine own. Canst thou not see the motto?" 
 
 " Scarce the device itself at this distance," replied Ee- 
 becca; "but when the sun glances fair upon his shield, it 
 shews as I tell you." 
 
 " Seem there no other leaders?" exclaimed the anxious 
 inquirer. 
 
 "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 protect 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 kettle- 
 drum), 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 Eng- 
 land!" and the Normans answering them with cries of 
 " En avant De Bracy ! Beau-seant! Beau-seant! Front- 
 de-Bceuf a la rescousse!" according to the war-cries of their 
 different commanders. 
 
 It was not, however, by clamor that the contest was to 
 be decided, and the desperate efforts of the assailants were 
 met by an equally vigorous defense on the part of the 
 besieged. The archers, trained by their woodland pas- 
 times to the most effective use of the long-bow, shot, to 
 use the appropriate phrase of the time, so "wholly 
 together," that no point at which a defender could shew 
 the least part of his person escaped their cloth-yard shafts. 
 By this heavy discharge, which continued as thick and 
 
 * See Note G. Something resembling a bar of iron, and a pad- 
 lock painted blue on the black shield. 
 
296 ITAHTHOB. 
 
 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 dis- 
 charge two or three of the garrison were slain, and several 
 others wounded. But, confident in their armor of proof, 
 and in the cover which their situation afforded, the followers 
 of Front-de-Bceuf and his allies shewed an obstinacy in 
 defense 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 consider- 
 ably more damage than they received at their hand. The 
 whizzing of shafts and 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 free- 
 dom 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 archers beneath — look out once 
 more, and tell me if they yet advance to the storm." 
 
 With patient courage, strengthened by the interval 
 which she had employed in mental devotion, Bebecca 
 again took post at the lattice, sheltering herself, however, 
 so as not to be visible from beneath. 
 
 "What dost thou see, Bebecca?" 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 bul- 
 warks. Look for the Knight of the Fetterlock, fair 
 Bebecca, and see how he bears himself; for as the leader 
 is, so will his followers be." 
 
 " I see him not," said Bebecca. 
 
 "Foul craven!" exclaimed Ivanhoe; "does he blench 
 from the helm when the wind blows highest?" 
 
 " He blenches not! he blenches not!" said Bebecca. " \ 
 
IVANHOE. 297 
 
 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! 
 Front-de-Bceuf heads the defenders; I see his gigantic 
 form above the press. They throng again to the breach, 
 and 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, Eebecca," 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." 
 
 Eebecca again looked forth, and almost immediately ex- 
 claimed, " Holy prophets of the law! Front-de-Bceuf 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 ex- 
 claimed, "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 — 
 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 ax from a yeoman — he presses Front-de- 
 Bceuf with blow on blow. The giant stoops and totters like 
 an oak under the steel of the woodman — he falls — he falls!" 
 
 " Front-de-Bceuf ?" exclaimed Ivanhoe. 
 
 " Front-de-Bceuf I" answered the Jewess; " his men riish 
 
 * Every Gothic castle and city had, beyond the outer- walls, a for- 
 tification composed of palisades, called the barriers, which were 
 often the scene of severe skirmishes, as these must necessarily be 
 carried before the walls themselves could be approached. Many of 
 those valiant feats of arms which adorn the chivalrous pages of 
 Froissart took place at the barriers of besieged places, 
 
898 IVANHOE. 
 
 to the rescue, headed by the haughty Templar — their united 
 force compels the champion to pause. They drag Front- 
 de-Bceuf within the walls." 
 
 "The assailants have won the barriers, have they not?" 
 said Ivanhoe. 
 
 "They have — they have!" exclaimed Kebecca; "and 
 they press the besieged hard upon the outer wall; some 
 plant ladders, some swarm like bees, and endeavor 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 me 
 thine own image, that they 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, shud- 
 dering; " 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 yeomen give way?" 
 
 " No," exclaimed Eebecca, " they bear themselves right 
 yeomanly — the Black Knight approaches the postern with- 
 his huge ax — the thundering blows which he deals you may 
 hear them above all the din and shouts of the battle. 
 Stones 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 Eebecca; " 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. 
 O 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, 
 
IVANHOE. 299 
 
 ■which you hear tell 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 Eebecca; "our 
 friends strengthen themselves within the outwork which 
 they have mastered, and it affords them so good a shel- 
 ter from the foemen's shot, that the garrison only be- 
 stow a few bolts on' it from interval to interval, as if 
 rather to disquiet than effectually to injure them." 
 
 " Our friends," said Wilfred, " will surely not aban- 
 don an enterprise so gloriously begun and so happily 
 attained. Oh, no! I will put my faith in the good knight 
 whose ax hath rent heart-of-oak and bars of iron. Singu- 
 lar," he again muttered to himself, "if there be two who 
 can do a deed of such derring-do ! * a fetterlock, and a 
 shacklebolt on a field-sable — what may that mean? — seest 
 thou nought else, Eebecca, 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 further — 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 assoilzie him of the sin of blood- 
 shed ! — it is fearful, yet magnificent, to behold how the arm 
 and heart of one man can triumph over hundreds." 
 
 " Eebecca," 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 knight 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 glori- 
 ous. I swear by the honor 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!" 
 
 * Derring-do — desperate courage. 
 
300 IVANHOE. 
 
 "Alas!" said Bebecca, 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?" 
 
 " Kebecca," he replied, " thou khowest not how impos- 
 sible it is for one trained to actions of chivalry to remain 
 passive as a priest, or a woman, when they are acting deeds 
 of honor 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 Jewess, "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 
 spilled — of all the travail and pain you have endured — of 
 all the tears which your deeds have caused, when deatli 
 hath 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 Kebecca. " Alas! is the rusted mail 
 which hangs as a hatchment over the champion's dim and 
 moldering tomb — is the defaced sculpture of the inscrip- 
 tion which the ignorant monk can hardly read to the in- 
 quiring 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 do- 
 mestic 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 Here ward!" replied the knight, impa- 
 tiently, " 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 
 
IVANHOE. 301 
 
 gentle knight from the churl and the savage; which rates 
 our life far, far beneath the pitch of our honor; 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. Chiv- 
 alry! — why maiden, she is. the nurse of pure and high 
 affection — the stay of the oppressed, the redresser of griev- 
 ances, 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 defense 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 oppres- 
 sion. 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 the 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 in- 
 terfere in case of honor, and incapable of entertaining or 
 expressing sentiments of honor 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 Naz- 
 arenes! 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 dared not to die as bravely as the vain- 
 est Nazarene maiden that boasts her descent from some 
 petty chieftain of the rude and frozen north!" 
 
 She then looked toward the couch of the wounded 
 knight, 
 
302 ITANHOE. 
 
 " He sleeps," she said; " nature exhausted by sufEerance 
 and the waste of spirits, his wearied 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 gray hairs are not remem- 
 bered 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 captiv- 
 ity before a parent's? who forgets the desolation of Judah, 
 and looks upon the comeliness of a Gentile and stranger? 
 But I will tear this folly from my heart, though every fiber 
 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 toward it, fortifying, or endeavoring to fortify _ 
 her mind, not only against the impending evils from with- 
 out, but also against those treacherous feelings which 
 assailed her from within. 
 
1VANII0U. 303 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 " Approach the chamber, look upon his bed ; 
 His is the passing of no peaceful ghost, 
 Which, as the lark arises to the sky, 
 'Mid morning's sweetest breeze and softest dew, 
 Is wing'd 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 defense, the Templar and De Bracy held 
 brief council together in the hall of the castle. 
 
 "Where is Front-de-Bceuf?" said the latter, who had 
 superintended the defense of the fortress on the other side; 
 " men say he hath been slain." 
 
 " He lives," said the Templar, 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 ax. Yet a few hours, and 
 Front-de-Bceuf 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 rascaille yeomen." 
 
 "Go to — thou art a fool," said the Templar; "thy 
 superstition is upon a level with Front-de-Boeuf's want of 
 faith ; neither of you can render a reason for your belief or 
 unbelief." 
 
 "Benedicite, Sir Templar," replied De Bracy, "I pray 
 you 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 bruit 
 goeth shrewdly out, that the most holy Order of the 
 
304 WANHOE. 
 
 Temple of Zion nurseth not a few heretics within its 
 bosom, and that Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert is of the 
 number." 
 
 "Care not for such reports," said the Templar; "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 Fitzurse'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 armor with a 
 cloth-yard shaft, that rapped 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 numbers are too few for the defences 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-butt on a holiday even. Front-de-Boauf is dying, 
 too, so we shall receive no more aid from his bull's head 
 and brutal strength. How think you, Sir Brian, were 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 pris- 
 oners, 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 defenceless 
 travelers, yet could not make good a strong castle against 
 a vagabond troop of outlaws, led by swineherds, jesters, and 
 the very refuse of mankind ! Shame on thy counsel, Maurice 
 de Bracy! The ruins of this castle shall bury both my body 
 and my shame ere I consent to such ba.se a,nd dishonorable 
 composition," 
 
IVANBOE. 305 
 
 " Let us to the walls, then," said De Bracy, carelessly; 
 "that man never breathed, be he Turk or Templar, who 
 held life at lighter rate than I do. But I trust there is no 
 dishonor in wishing I had here some two scores of my 
 gallant troop of Free Companions? Oh, my brave lances! 
 if ye knew but how hard your captain were this day bested, 
 how soon would I see my banner at the bead of your clump 
 of spears! And how short while would these rebel 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 Front-de-Bceuf s followers, hated by the 
 English for a thousand acts of insolence and oppression." 
 
 "The better," said De Bracy; "the ragged slaves will 
 defend themselves to the last drop of their blood ere they 
 encounter the revenge of the peasants without. Let us np 
 and be doing, then, Brian de Bois-Guilbert; 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 policy their 
 leader had already displayed, would endeavor, by a formid- 
 able assault, to draw the chief part of the defenders' 
 observation to this point, and take measures to avail them- 
 selves 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 
 
306 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 fol- 
 lowers, however brave, experienced the anxious dejection 
 of mind incident to men enclosed by enemies, who pos- 
 sessed 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 supersti- 
 tious period, most of whom were wont to atone for the 
 crimes they were guilty of by liberality to the church, stupe- 
 fying 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 stupe- 
 faction 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 
 Front-de Bceuf, a hard and griping man, avarice was pre- 
 dominant; and he preferred setting church and church- 
 men at defiance, to purchasing from them pardon and 
 absolution at the price of treasure and of manors. Nor 
 did the Templar, an infidel of another stamp, justly 
 characterize his associate, when he said Front-de-Bcenf 
 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 free- 
 dom which she put up to sale was only to be bought like 
 that of the chief captain of Jerusalem, " with a great 
 sum," and Front-de-Boeuf preferred denying the virtue of 
 the medicine to paying the expense of the physician. 
 , But the moment had now arrived when earth and all ita 
 
IVANBOE. 307 
 
 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 dark- 
 ness of futurity. The fever of his body aided the impa- 
 tience and agony of his mind, and his death-bed exhibited a 
 mixture of the newly awakened feelings of horror, combat- 
 ing with the fixed and inveterate obstinacy of his disposi- 
 tion, a fearful state of mind, only to be equaled 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 all those unshod Carmelites, for whom old Front-de-Bceuf 
 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 bed- 
 side 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 
 is a priest and may do something. But no! as well con- 
 fess myself to the devil as to Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 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 Front-de-Bceuf," said a broken and 
 shrill voice, close to his bedside, " to say there is that which 
 he dares not I" 
 
 The evil conscience and the shaken nerves of Front-de- 
 Bceuf 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 dis- 
 tract their thoughts, and turn them from the meditations 
 which concerned 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." 
 
308 IVANHOE. 
 
 "I am thine evil angel, Keginald Front-de-Bceuf," 
 replied the voice. 
 
 " Let me behold thee, then, in thy bodily shape, if thou 
 be'st 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, Beginald Front-de-Bceuf," said the 
 almost unearthly voice, "on rebellion, on rapine, on 
 murder! Who stirred up the licentious John to war 
 against his gray-headed father — against his generous 
 brother?" 
 
 "Be thou fiend, priest, or devil," replied Front-de- 
 Boeuf, "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 floors!" 
 
 "Thou canst not shake me by thy petty malice," 
 answered Front-de-Bceuf, 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. Ho! 
 ho! 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 tbe 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 
 
IVANHOE. 309 
 
 beside — the temptress, the partaker of my guilt. Go, 
 leave me, fiend! and seek the Saxon witch, Ulrica, 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 Ulrica, stepping before 
 the conch of Front-de-Bceuf ; " she hath long drunken 
 from this cup, and its bitterness is now sweetened to see 
 that thou dost partake it. Grind not thy teeth, Front-de- 
 Bceuf, roll not thine eyes, clench not thirle hand, nor 
 shake it at me with that gesture of menance! 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 Front-de-Bceuf ; " de- 
 testable screech-owl! it is then, thou, who art come to 
 exult over the ruins thou hast assisted to lay low?" 
 
 "Ay, Keginald Front-de-Boeuf," answered she, "it is 
 Ulrica! it is the daughter of the murdered Torquil Wolf- 
 i ganger! it is the sister of his slaughtered sons! it is she who 
 f demands of thee, and of thy father's house, father and 
 kindred, name and fame — all that she has lost by the 
 name of Front-de-Bceuf! Think of my wrongs, Front-de- 
 Boeuf, 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 Front-de-Boeuf, "that 
 moment shalt thou never witness. Ho! Giles, Clement, 
 and Eustace! St. Maur, and Stephen! seize this damned 
 witch, and hurl her from the battlements headlong — she 
 has betrayed us to the Saxon! Ho! St. Maur! 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 know, mighty chief," she continued, sud- 
 denly changing her tone, "thou shalt have neither answer, 
 
310 1VANBO& 
 
 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 Front-de-Bceuf's 
 power totters to the foundation, and before the foes he 
 most despised ! The Saxon, Eeginald ! 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; 
 " 0, for one moment's strength, to drag myself to the 
 milee, 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 peasant have set fire to the cover around it." 
 "Hateful hag! thou liest," exclaimed Frout-de-Bceuf; 
 "my follo.wers bear them bravely — my walls are strong 
 and high — my comrades in arms fear not a whole host of 
 Saxons, were 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 defence, it shall 
 consume thee, body and bones; and I shall live to hear 
 thou art gone from earthly fires to those of that hell 
 which never sent forth an incarnate fiend more utterly 
 diabolical!" 
 
 "Hold thy belief," replied Ulrica, " 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 hand. Markest thou the smoldering 
 and suffocating vapor which already eddies in sable folds 
 through the chamber? Didst thou think it was but the 
 darkening of the bursting eyes — the difficulty of thy cum- 
 bered breathing? No! Front-de-Boauf, there is another 
 cause. Bememberest 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 Ulrica, with fright- 
 ful composure; " and a signal shall soon wave to warn the 
 
1VANH0& 311 
 
 besiegers to press hard upon those who would extinguish 
 them. Farewell, Front-de-Bceuf! May Mista, Skogula 
 and Zernebock, gods of the ancient Saxons — fiends, as the 
 priests now call them — supply the place of comforters at 
 your dying bed, which Ulrica now relinquishes! But know, 
 if it will give thee comfort to know it, that Ulrica 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 Front-de-Bceuf 
 could hear the crash of the ponderous key as she locked 
 and double-locked the door behind her, thus cutting ofE 
 the most slender chance of escape. In the extremity of 
 agony he shouted upon his servants and allies — " Stephen 
 and St. Maur! Clement and Giles! I burn here unaided! 
 To the rescue — to the rescue, brave Bois-Guilbert, valiant 
 De Bracy! It is Front-de-Bceuf 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 has caught upon the 
 floor below. 0, 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 com- 
 rades — all, all are thine, that garrison these walls. Thinkest 
 thou Front-de-Bceuf 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 are my prisoners — 
 all, all shall attend me — a goodly fellowship as ever took 
 the downward road. Ha, ha, ha!" and he laughed in his 
 frenzy till the roof rang again. "Who laughed there?" 
 exclaimed Front-de-Bceuf, in altered mood, for the noise 
 
312 IVANEOE. 
 
 of the conflict did not prevent the echoes of his own mad 
 laughter from returning upon his ear — "who laughed 
 there? Ulrica, 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. Avaunt — avaunt I" 
 
IVANHOE. 313 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, 
 Or close the wall up with our English dead. 
 
 And you, good yeomen, 
 
 Whose limbs were made in England, shew us here 
 The mettle of your pasture — let us swear 
 That you are worth your breeding." 
 
 — King Henry V. 
 
 Cedkic, although not greatly confident in Ulrica's mes- 
 sage, omitted not to communicate her promise to the Black 
 Knight and Locksley. They were well pleased to find 
 they had a friend within the place, who might, in the 
 moment pf need, be able to facilitate their entrance, and 
 readily agreed with the Saxon that a storm, under what- 
 ever disadvantages, ought to be attempted, as the only 
 means of liberating the prisoners now in the hands of the 
 cruel Front-de-Bceuf. 
 
 " 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 baldric," 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, d'ye 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 
 bacon can — I say brethren, such a fool shall never want a 
 wise clerk to pray for or fight for him at a straight, while 
 I can say a mass or flourish a partisan." 
 
 And with that he made his heavy halberd to play around 
 his head as a shepherd boy flourishes his little crook. 
 
 " True, Holy Clerk," said _ the Black Knight, " true as 
 if St. Dunstan himself had said it. And now, good Locks- 
 
314 IYANROK 
 
 ley, were it not well that noble Cedric should assume the 
 direction of this assault ?" 
 
 "Not a jot I," returned Cedric; " Ihave 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 that I am not a trained 
 soldier in the discipline of wars, or the attack of strong- 
 holds." 
 
 '•'Since it stands thus with the 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 tryst- 
 ing-tree an the defenders be permitted to shew themselves 
 over the walls without being struck with as many shafts as 
 there are cloves in 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 mat- 
 ters, and can find among these brave men so 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 Kuight 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 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 con- 
 structed a sort of floating bridge, or long raft, by means of 
 which he hoped to cross the moat in despite of the resist- 
 
IVANROB. 315 
 
 ance 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 to 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 accom- 
 plish our purpose. Wherefore, one of ye go to Loeksley, 
 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 this service, or 
 are but ill armed to meet it, do you man the top of the 
 outwork, draw your bowstrings to your ears, and mind you 
 quell with your shot whatever shall appear to man the 
 rampart. Noble Oedric, will thou take the direction of 
 those which remain?" 
 
 "Not so, by the soul of Here ward!" 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 
 
316 1VANH0E. 
 
 in the waters, extending its length between the castle and 
 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 ax 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 knight 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 over- 
 whelmed them. But their situation was eminently peril- 
 ous, and was becoming more so with every moment. 
 
 " Shame on ye all!" cried De Bracy to the soldiers 
 around him; "do ye call yourselves cross-bowmen, and let 
 these two dogs keep their station under the walls of the 
 castle? Heave over the coping-stones from the battlement, 
 an better may not be. Get pick-ax 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 good 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 Eng- 
 land! To the charge, bold yeomen! — why leave ye the 
 good knight and noble Cedric to storm the pass alone? — 
 make in, mad priest, shew thou canst fight for thy 
 rosary — make in, brave yeomen! — the castle is ours, we 
 have friends within. See yonder flag, it is the appointed 
 signal — Torqnilstone is ours! Think of honor, think of 
 spoil. One effort, and the place is ours!" 
 
IYANEOE. 317 
 
 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, which he heaved at 
 and had loosened the stone pinnacle, when, receiving an 
 arrow through his head-piece, he dropped from the battle- 
 ments 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 you give ground, base knaves!" said De Bracy; 
 " Mount joye 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 Locksley bend his shaft against De Bracy, 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 an 
 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 
 Gurth, 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 ear. 
 
 " 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 the stern coolness which formed the basis of his 
 
318 IVANHOE. 
 
 character, Brian de Bois-Guilbert 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 St. 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 — Templar, thou wilt iiot fail me?" 
 
 " Hand and glove, I will not!" said Bois-Guilbert. "But 
 haste thee, in the name of God!" 
 
 De Bracy hastjly 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 portentious 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 ye 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 ax. At 
 length the Norman received a blow which, though its 
 force was partly parried by his shield, for otherwise never 
 
IVANHOE. 319 
 
 more would De Bracy have again moved limb, descended 
 yet with such violence on his crest, that he measured his 
 length on the paved floor. 
 
 " Yield thee, De Bracy," said the Black Champion, 
 stooping over him, and holding against the bars of his 
 helmet the fatal poniard with which the knights des- 
 patched their enemies (and which was called the dagger of 
 mercy), "yield thee, Maurice 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 Maurice 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 obstinacy for one of deep though sullen 
 submission. 
 
 " Go to the barbican," said the victor, in a tone of 
 authority, "and there wait 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 it if a hair of his head be singed. Show 
 me his chamber!" 
 
 "Ascend yonder winding stair," said De Bracy; "it 
 leads to his apartment. Wilt thou not accept my guid- 
 ance?" he added, in a submissive voice. 
 
 "No. To the barbican, and there wait 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 toward the court-yard. De Bracy 
 himself arose from the ground, and cast a sorrowful glance 
 
320 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 sub- 
 mission, 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, Eebecca. 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 Kebecca; "it burns! What 
 can we do to save ourselves?" 
 
 " Ply, Kebecca, and save thine own life," said Ivanhoe, 
 "for no human aid can avail me." 
 
 "I will not fly," answered Eebecca; "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 casque. " I 
 have found thee," said he to Eebecca; " 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 Eebecca, "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 
 
 * The author has some idea that this passage is imitated from 
 the appearance of Philidaspes before the divine Mandane, when the 
 city of Babylon is on fire, and he proposes to carry her from the 
 flames, but the theft, if there be one, would be rather too severely 
 punished by the penance of searching for the original passage 
 through the interminable volumes of the Grand Cyrus. 
 
IVANSOZ 321 
 
 breastplate — save my aged father — save this wounded 
 knight!" 
 
 " A knight," answered the Templar, with his character- 
 istic calmness, "a knight, Rebecca, 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 Rebeeca, ' rather will I perish 
 in the flames than accept safety from thee!" 
 
 " Thou shalt not choose, Rebecca — 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 defiance which Ivanhoe thundered against 
 him. " Hound of the Temple — stain to thine order — set 
 free the damsel! Traitor of Bois-Guilbert, 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 be'st 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 yeoman, 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 dread- 
 ful element held mastery elsewhere; for the besiegers pur- 
 sued 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 Pront-de- 
 Bceuf. 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 
 
m IVANEOR 
 
 slippery with the blood of despairing and expiring 
 wretches. 
 
 Through this scene of confusion Cedric rushed in quest 
 of Rowena, while the faithful Gurth, 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 Gurth, 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 in- 
 ventive genius of Wamba had procured liberation for him- 
 self 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! Bonny 
 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 wei'e 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 garri- 
 son 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, thaa 
 
tVANBOE. «&3 
 
 ihey 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, 
 were now issuing out into the court-yard, 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 valor; and, being well 
 armed, succeeded more than once in driving back the 
 assailants, though much inferior in numbers. Rebecca, 
 placed on horseback before one of the Templar's Saracen 
 slaves, was in the midst of the little party; and Bois-Guil- 
 bert, notwithstanding the confusion of the bloody fray, 
 showed every attention to her safety. Repeatedly he was 
 by her side, and neglecting his own defence, 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 at the same instant once more at 
 the bridle-rein. 
 
 Athelstane, who, as the reader knows, was slothful but 
 not cowardly, beheld the female form whom 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; "the 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 wilful will to water, wilful must drench. Deus 
 voliscum, most doughty Athelstane!" he concluded, loosen- 
 ing the hold which he had hitherto kept upon the Saxon's 
 tunic. 
 
 To snatch a mace from the pavement, on which it lay 
 
3S4 IVANBOR 
 
 beside one whose dying grasp had just relinquished it — to 
 rush on the Templar's band, and to strike in quick succes- 
 sion 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-Guilbert, whom he defied in 
 his loudest tone. 
 
 "Turn, false-hearted Templar! let go her whom thou 
 art unworthy to touch — turn, limb of a band of murdering 
 and hypocritical robbers!" 
 
 "Dog!" said the Templar, 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-courbette toward 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, leveled him 
 with the earth. 
 
 "Ha! Beau-seant !" exclaimed Bois-Guilbert, "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 Bois Guilbert. 
 
 "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." 
 
IVANEOE. 325 
 
 " Well," answered the Templar, " an thou wilt tarry 
 there, remember I have redeemed word and glove. Be the 
 hawks where they will, methinks the walls of the Precep- 
 tory 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 
 Ulrica, 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, dishev- 
 eled gray hair flew back from her uncovered head; the in- 
 ebriating delight of gratified vengeance contended in her 
 eyes with the fire of insanity; and she brandished the dis- 
 taff which she held in her hand, as if she had been one of 
 the Fatal Sisters, who spin and abridge the thread 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: 
 
 " Whet the bright steel, 
 Sons of the White Dragon 1 
 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 sulphur. 
 Whet the steel, the raven croaks! 
 Light the torch, Zernebock is yelling! 
 Whet the steel, sons of the Dragon ! 
 Kindle the torch, daughter of Hengist I 
 
 " 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. 
 
326 IVANBOM. 
 
 " Dark sits the evening upon the thane's 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, 
 Engines break down the fences of the battle. 
 All must perish I 
 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 
 I also must perish." * 
 
 The towering flames had now surmounted every obstruc- 
 tion, 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 court- 
 yard. The vanquished, of whom very few remained, scat- 
 tered and escaped into the neighboring wood. The victors, 
 assembling in large bands, gazed with wonder, not un- 
 mixed with fear, upon the flames, to 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 exulta- 
 tion, 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 
 
 * See Note H. Ulrica's Death Song. 
 
IVAmoti:. 32? 
 
 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, 
 yeomen! — the den of tyrants is no more! Let each bring 
 his spoils to our chosen place of rendezvous at the Trysting 
 tree in the Harthill-walk; 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." 
 
328 I7ANH0B. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 " Trust me each state must have its policies : 
 Kingdoms have edicts, cities have their charters ; 
 Even the wild outlaw, in his forest walk, 
 Keepsyet 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 hunts- 
 man was there to watch or intercept the steady hart, as he 
 paced at the head of the antler'd 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 re- 
 counting 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 Gurth and 
 Wamba in the earlier part of the story, but one which was 
 the center of a sylvan amphitheater, within half a mile of 
 the demolished castle of Torquilstone. Here Locksley 
 assumed his seat — a throne of turf erected under the 
 
IVANHOE. 32g 
 
 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 upon 
 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 reck 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 curtal friar? A mass amongst Christian men best 
 begins a busy morning." No one had seen the Clerk of 
 Copmanhurst. " Over gods forbode!" 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 
 ta'en?" 
 
 "I," 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-de-Boeuf's Gascoigne wine." 
 "Now, the saints, as many as there be of them," said 
 the captain, " forfend, lest he has drunk too deep of the 
 wine-butts, and perished by the fall of the castle! Away, 
 miller! take with you enow 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 curtal friar." 
 
 The numbers who hastened to execute this duty, con- 
 sidering that an interesting division of spoil was about to 
 take place, shewed 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-Bceuf, 
 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 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 Coningsburgh is 
 no more — the last sprout of the sainted Confessor! Hopes 
 have perished with him which can never return! A sparkle. 
 
330 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 Eowena is de- 
 sirous to return to Eotherwood, 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 St. Withold! as neither I nor any of 
 mine will touch the value of a liard — 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 outlaw chief, "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 be spoke — 
 a mark of feeling which even the death of Athelstane had 
 not extracted; but there was something in the half-instinct- 
 ive attachment of his clown that waked his nature more 
 keenly than even grief itself. 
 
 " Nay," said the Jester, extricating himself from his 
 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, 
 Gurth, 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, Gurth." The swineherd 
 was in an instant at his master's feet. " Theow and Esne* 
 
 * Thrall wA ty>s4smsw, 
 
WANEOK 331 
 
 art thou no longer," said Cedric, touching him with a 
 wand; "Folkfree and Sacless* art thou in town and 
 from town, in the forest as in the field. A hide of 
 land 1 give to thee in my steads of "Walburgham, from me 
 and mine to thee and thine aye and for ever; and God's 
 malison on his head who this gainsays!" 
 
 No longer a serf, but a freeman and a landholder, Gurth 
 sprung upon his feet, and twice bounded aloft to almost 
 his own height from the ground. 
 
 " A smith and a file," 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?" 
 
 "Ay," said Wamba, "Fangs and I still know thee, 
 Gurth, 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 Gurth; "and were freedom fit for thee, 
 Wamba, the master would not let thee want it." 
 
 " Nay," said Wamba, " never think I envy thee, brother 
 Gurth; the serf sits by the hall-fire when the freeman must 
 forth to the field of battle. And what saith Oldhelm of 
 Malmsbury — Better a fool at a feast than a wise man at a 
 fray." 
 
 The tramp of horses was now heard, and the Lady 
 Eowena 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 chest- 
 nut palfrey, had recovered all the dignity of her manner, 
 and only an unwonted degree of paleness showed the suffer- 
 ings she had undergone. Her lovely brow though sorrow- 
 ful, 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 Athel- 
 stane was dead. The former assurance filled her with the 
 
 * A lawful freeman. 
 
333 IVANHOE. 
 
 most sincere delight; and if she did not absolutely rejoice 
 at the latter, she might be pardoned for feeling the full ad- 
 vantage of being freed from further persecution on the 
 only subject in which she had ever been contradicted by 
 her guardian Cedric. 
 
 As Eowena bent her steed toward Locksley's seat, that 
 bold yeoman, with all his followers, rose to receive her, as 
 if by 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 Looksley 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 yon should 
 hunger, remember Kowena 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, Eowena 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, gentle lady," 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 Eowena's deliverance may be received as an 
 atonement." 
 
 Again bowing from her palfrey, Eowena turned to depart; 
 but pausing a moment, while Cedric, who was to attend 
 her, was also taking his leave, she found herself unex- 
 pectedly close by the prisoner De Bracy. He stood under 
 a tree in deep meditation, his arms crossed upon his breast, 
 and Eowena was in hopes that she might pass him unob- 
 served. 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 
 his knee before her. 
 
 "Will the Lady Eowena deign to cast an eye on a 
 captive knight — on a dishonored soldier?" 
 
 "Sir Knight," answered Eowena, "in enterprises such 
 as yours, the real dishonor lies not in failure, but in 
 success." 
 
IVANHOE. 333 
 
 " Conquest, lady, should soften the heart," answered De 
 Bracy; "let me but know that the Lady Eowena forgives 
 the violence occasioned by an ill-fated passion, and she 
 shall soon learn that De Bracy knows how to serve her in 
 nobler ways." 
 
 "I forgive you, Sir Knight," said Kowena, "as a 
 Christian." 
 
 " That means," said Wamba, "that she does not forgive 
 him at all." 
 
 " But I can never forgive the miseryand desolation your 
 madness has occasioned," continued Kowena. 
 
 "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 
 
 hy 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 grati- 
 tude to the Black Champion, and earnestly entreated him 
 to accompany him to Botherwood. 
 
 "I know," he said, "that ye errant knights desire to 
 carry your fortunes on the point of your lance, and reck 
 not of lands or goods; but war is a changeful mistress, and 
 a home is sometimes desirable to the champion whose trade 
 is wandering. Thou hast earned one in the halls of 
 Botherwood, noble knight. Cedric has wealth enough to 
 repair the injuries of fortune, and all he has is his deliver- 
 er's. Come, therefore, to Botherwood, 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 Bother- 
 wood 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 
 
334 IVANHOE. 
 
 the Fetterlock; "yet well 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 Athelstane I shall be an 
 inhabitant of the halls of his castle of Ooningsburgh. 
 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 unsuc- 
 cessfully, to save Athelstane from Norman chains and 
 Norman steel." 
 
 " Ay, ay," said Wamba, who had resumed his attend- 
 ance on his master, " rare feeding there will be — pity that 
 the noble Athelstane 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. Kowena waved a graceful adieu to him 
 of the Fetterlock, the Saxon bade God-speed 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 amphitheater, and took the same direc- 
 tion with Eowena and her followers. The priests of a 
 neighboring convent, in expectation of the ample donation, 
 or soul-scat, 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 Ooningsburgh, to be there depos- 
 ited in the grave of Hengist, from whom the deceased 
 derived his long descent. Many of his vassals had assem- 
 bled 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, the mournful step of 
 the priests, brought back to their remembrance such of 
 their comrades as bad fallen in the yesterday's affray. 
 But such recollections dwell not long with those who lead 
 a life of danger and enterprise, and ere the sound of the 
 
IVANHOK 335 
 
 death-hymn had died on the wind, the outlaws were again 
 busied in the distribution of their spoil. 
 
 "Valiant knight," said Looksley to the Black Cham- 
 pion, " 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 as 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 take 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 its full height, and exclaimed, " Peace, ye yelping curs! 
 who open 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 brakes 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 inter- 
 ference of the outlaw chief. Meanwhile, the knight caught 
 a horse by the rein, for several which had been taken in the 
 stables of Front-de Bceuf stood accoutered 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 outlaw chief 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 
 
336 IVANHOE. 
 
 you disdain not to grace by your acceptance a bugle which 
 an English yeoman has once worn, this will I 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 mots * upon the horn thus, Wa-sa-hoa! 
 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 than thine and thy rangers would 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," sa.id the yeoman; " beshrew 
 me an 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 mots — 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 yeomen, " and long 
 live the Black Knight of the FetterloGk! 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 among 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 them- 
 selves so regularly and equitably governed, and all that he 
 
 * The notes upon the bugles were anciently called mots, and are 
 distinguished in the old treatises on hunting, not by musical charac- 
 ters, but by written words, 
 
IVAmoE. 337 
 
 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 to be 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 spoil to be parted; and it is his 
 duty to take care of these, the tithes, of our successful en- 
 terprise. 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 
 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 night 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 stentorian voice of the friar him- 
 self, 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, 
 amid the laughter 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 heck 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 Allan-a-Dale, to chronicle me 
 in a ballad, or if it were but a lay? By St. Hermangild, 
 the jingling crowder is ever out of the way where there is 
 an apt theme for exalting valor!" 
 
 " Ourtal 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 cap- 
 
338 IVANHOE. 
 
 tain," replied the Clerk of Copmanhurst; "to my bow 
 and to my halberd, I should rather say; and yet I have re- 
 deemed him by my divinity from a worse captivity. 
 Speak, Jew — have I not ransomed thee from Sathanas? 
 have I not taught thee thy credo, thy pater, 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; "dost 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 too tough to be roasted! Be 
 comfortable, 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 mulled at once; and I 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 avised of a strong door. 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 nought 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 
 thunder-dint and levin-fire, down toppled the masonry of 
 an outer tower (marry beshrew 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 lifej 
 
IVANSOE. 339 
 
 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 Wibbald 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, an I kept it not for the captain's own throat. 
 But what recks 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," cried 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 dost," said 
 the friar; "I will remind thee but of 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, beggar'd man — I fear me a 
 childless — have ruth on me, and let me go!" 
 
340 IVANHOE. 
 
 "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 Jew's 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, "an I buckle to 
 my gear, I will teach thee, sir lazy lover, to mell with thine 
 own matters, maugre thine 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 pleas- 
 ure in provoking his quondam host, "hast thou forgotten 
 how that, for my sake (for I say nothing of the tempta- 
 tion 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 
 his traffic." 
 
 " I will prove that presently," said the friar. 
 
 " Hola !" cried the captain, " what art thou after, mad 
 friar ? brawling beneath our trystiug-tree ?" 
 
 "No brawling," said the knight, " it is but a friendly 
 interchange of courtesy. Friar, strike an 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 the — down thou 
 goest an thou wert Goliath of Gath in his brazen helmet." 
 
 The friar bared his brawny arm up the elbow, and put- 
 ting 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 yeoman 
 around ; for the Clerk's cuff was proverbial amongst them, 
 and there were few who, in jest or earnest, had not had 
 occasion to know its vigor. 
 
 " Now, priest," said the knight, pulling off his gauntlet, 
 
 * See Note I. Richard Coeur-de-Lion. 
 
IVANEOE. 341 
 
 " if I had vantage on my head, I will have none on my 
 hand — stand fast, as a true man." 
 
 " Oenam meam dedi vapulatori — I have given my cheek 
 to the smiter," said the priest ; " an 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 
 knight 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 an 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 pratest thou of conversions? what, 
 is there no respect? — all masters and no men? I tell thee, 
 fellow, I was somewhat totty 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 needst 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 cast." 
 
 " Were many of Front-de-Bceuf's men taken?" demanded 
 the Black Knight. 
 
 "None of note enough to be put to ransom," answered 
 the captain; " a set of hilding fellows 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 
 
343 IVANBOS. 
 
 worth a cardecu. The prisoner I speak of is better booty — 
 a jolly monk riding to visit his leman, an I may judge by 
 his horse-gear and wearing-apparel. Here cometh the 
 worthy prelate, as pert as a pyet." And between two 
 yeomen, was brought before the sylvan throne of the 
 outlaw chief, our friend, Prior Aymer of Jorvaulx. 
 
IVANHOE. 343 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIII. 
 
 " Flower of warriors, 
 
 How is't with Titus Lartius ? 
 
 Marciua. As with a man busied about degrees, 
 Condemning some to death and some to exile, 
 Ransoming him or pitying, threatening the other." 
 
 — Goriolanm. 
 
 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 Chris- 
 tians, 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 excommunicato vos ; but I am placable, 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 Jorvaulx 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 than for a Christian — far less for a 
 priest — and least of all for the Prior of the holy community 
 of Jorvaulx. Here is a profane and drunken minstrel, 
 called Allan-a-Dale — nebulo quidam — who has menaced me 
 with corporal punishment — nay, with death itself, an I pay 
 not down four hundred crowns of ransom, to the boot of 
 all the treasure he hath already robbed me of — gold chains 
 and gymnal rings to an unknown value; besides what is 
 
344 IVANEOE. 
 
 ■broken and spoiled among their rude hands, such as my 
 pouncet-box and silver crisping- tongs." 
 
 " It is impossible that Allan-a-Dale can have thus treated 
 a man of your reverend hearing," 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 in the 
 greenwood." 
 
 "Did he so in very deed? Nay, then, reverend father, 
 I think you had better comply with his- demands — for 
 Allan-a-Dale is the very man to abide by his word when he 
 has so pledged it."* 
 
 " You do but jest with me," said the astonished Prior, 
 with a forced laugh; "and I love a good jest with all my 
 heart. But, ha! ha! ha! when the mirth has lasted the 
 live-long 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 lan- 
 guage to a churchman?" 
 
 " Christians! ay, marry are we, and have divinity among 
 us to boot," answered the outlaw. " Let our buxom chap- 
 lain 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, " JDeus faciat salvam 
 ienignitatem vestram. You are welcome to the green- 
 wood." 
 
 "What profane mummery is this!" said the Prior. 
 " Friend, if thou be'st indeed of the church, it were a 
 better deed to shew 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 
 
 * A commissary is said to have received similar consolation from 
 a certain commander-in-chief, to whom he complained that a general 
 officer had used some such threat toward him. 
 
IVANHOE. 345 
 
 one mode in which thou mayest escape. This is St. An- 
 drews' 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 there, Sir 
 Prior, facite vobis amicos de Mammone iniquitatis — 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, soft- 
 ening 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 Aymer winded a blast accordingly. The cap- 
 tain shook his head. 
 
 "Sir Prior," he said, "thou bio west 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, dis- 
 turb the ancient English bugle notes. Prior, that last 
 flourish on the recheat hath added fifty crowns to thy 
 ransom, for corrupting the true old manly blasts of 
 venerie." 
 
 " Well, friend," said the Abbot, peevishly, "thou art ill 
 to please with thy woodcraft. I pray thee be more con- 
 formable 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 Jew's 
 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 Jonrvaulx, 
 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 
 
346 IVANHOE. 
 
 the earth, and also much wool. Oh, it is a rich abbey- 
 stede, and they do live upon the fat, and drink the sweet 
 wines upon the lees, these good fathers of Jorvaulx. 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 cellers in the last season 
 with the due allowance of Gascon wine," interrupted the 
 Jew; "but 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 
 frigus depellendum. The circumcised villain blasphemeth 
 the holy church, and Christian men listen and rebuke him 
 not!" 
 
 " All this helps nothing," said the leader. " Isaac, pro- 
 nounce what he may pay, without flaying both hide and 
 hair." 
 
 "An 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; "Sol- 
 omon 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 pyx and candle- 
 sticks on the altar at Jorvaulx, I shall scarce raise the half; 
 and it will be necessary for that purpose to go to Jorvaulx 
 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." 
 
 *Borghs, or borrows, signifies pledges. Hence our word to bor- 
 row, because we pledge ourselves to restore wbat is lent, 
 
IVANHOE. 347 
 
 " Or, if so please you," said Isaac, willing to curry 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 a quittance." 
 
 " He shall grant thee whatever thou dost list, Isaac," 
 said the captain; " and thoushalt lay down the redemption 
 money for Prior Aymer 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 cap- 
 tain. "How say you, Father Aymer? Can the Jew afford 
 a good ransom ?" 
 
 " Can he afford a ransom?" answered the Prior. "Is he 
 not Isaac of York, rich enough to redeem the captivity of 
 the ten tribes of Israel, who were led into Assyrian bond- 
 age? 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 suf- 
 fered to eat into the bowels of the state, and even of the 
 holy church herself, with foul usuries and extortions." 
 
 "Hold, father," said the Jew, "mitigate and assuage 
 your choler. 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 sa' 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 hear I but damned 
 JeWj 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 is, he hath 
 in this spoken well. Do thou, therefore, name his ransom, 
 as he named thine, without further rude terms." 
 
 "None but latro famosus — the interpretation whereof," 
 said the Prior, " will I give at some other time and tide — 
 
348 IVANHOE. 
 
 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!" said 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 Aymer. 
 
 "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. Eebecca! daughter of my beloved 
 Eachel! were each leaf on that tree a zecchin 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 sendal, 
 broidered 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 yester-even. 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 round, "the old man 
 is but a Jew, natheless his grief touches me. Deal up- 
 rightly with us, Isaac — will paying this ransom of a thou- 
 sand crowns leave thee altogether penniless?" 
 
 Isaac, recalled to think of his worldly goods, the love of 
 
IVANHOE. 349 
 
 which, by dint of inveterate 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 mayst as well hope to redeem thy child from 
 the clutches of Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert as to shoot a 
 stag-royal with a headless shaft. We will take thee at the 
 same ransom with Prior Aymer, or rather at one hundred 
 crowns lower, which hundred crowns shall be mine own 
 peculiar loss, and not light upon this worshipful com- 
 munity; 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 De Bois-Guilbert 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 ap- 
 prehensions, 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 
 buskins, 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 Aymer; "kneel to God, as rep- 
 resented 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 mayst acquire for thyself and thy 
 daughter, Rebecca! 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-Guilbert is one with whom I 
 may do much — bethink thee how thou mayst 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." 
 
350 IVANHOB. 
 
 "And what else should be the lot of thy accursed race?" 
 answered the Prior; "for what saith holy writ, verbum 
 Domini projecerunt,et sapientia est nulla ineis — they have 
 cast forth the word of the Lord, and there is no wisdom 
 in them; propter ea dabo mulieres eorum exteris — I will give 
 their women to strangers, that is, to the Templar, as iu 
 the present matter; et thesauros eorum hceredibus alienis — 
 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 as 
 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, 
 Rebecca, redeemed from the gyves 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 Diccon Bend-the- 
 Bow?" said Isaac; "I thought ever I knew the accent of 
 thy voice." 
 
 "I am Bend-the-Bow," said the captain, " and Locksley, 
 and have a good name besides all these." 
 
 "But thou art mistaken, good Bend-the-Bow, concern- 
 ing that same vaulted apartment. So help me Heaven, as 
 there is naught in it but some merchandise 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 one hundred silken bow 
 
IYANHOE. 351 
 
 strings, tough, round and sound — these will I send thee for 
 thy good-will, honest Diccon, an thou wilt keep silence 
 about the vault, my good Diccon." 
 
 "Silent as a dormouse," said the outlaw; "and never 
 trust me but I am grieved for thy daughter. But I may 
 not help it. The Templar's lances are too strong for my 
 archery in the open field — they would scatter us like dust. 
 Had I but known it was Eebecca 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, Diccon, an thou canst aid me to re- 
 cover the child of my bosom!" 
 
 " Do not thou interrupt me with thy ill-timed avarice," 
 said the outlaw, " and I will deal with him in thy behalf." 
 
 He then turned from the Jew, who followed him, how- 
 ever, as close as his shadow. 
 
 " Prior Aymer," 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 nought 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 good 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 Aymer?" 
 
 " The matter," quoth the Prior, "is of a mixed condi- 
 tion; for if I do a good 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 
 dortour* I will take it on my conscience to aid him in the 
 matter of his daughter." 
 
 *Dortow, or Dormitory. 
 
352 IVANHOE. 
 
 " For a score of marks to the dortour," 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 Diccon Bend-the-Bow," said Isaac, 
 endeavoring to interpose. 
 
 "Good Jew — good beast — good earthworm!" said the 
 yeoman, losing patience; " and thou dost go on to put thy 
 filthy lucre in the balance with thy daughter's life and 
 honor, by Heaven, I Will strip thee of every maravedi 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 media- 
 tion," 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 Aymer, " 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 Jew's 
 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 advance- 
 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 quills enough to 
 supply all the monks of Jorvaulx for the next hundred 
 years, and they take not to writing chronicles." 
 
 The Prior sat down, and at great leisure indited an 
 epistle to Brian de Bois-Guilbert, and having carefully 
 sealed up the tablets, delivered them to the Jew, saying, 
 " This will be thy safe conduct to the Preceptory of Tem- 
 plestowe, 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-Guilbert is of their confra- 
 ternity that do naught for naught." 
 
 "Well, Prior," said the outlaw, "I will detain thee no 
 
1VANB0E. 353 
 
 longer here than to give the Jew a quittance for the five 
 hundred crowns at which thy ransom is fixed. I accept of 
 him for my paymaster; and if I hear that ye boggle at 
 allowing him in his accompts 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 more grace than that wherewith he had 
 penned the letter to Bois-Guilbert, the Prior wrote an 
 acquittance, discharging Isaac of York of five hundred 
 crowns, advanced to him in his need for acquittal of his 
 ransom, and faithfully promising to hold true compt with 
 him for that sum. 
 
 "And now," said Prior Aymer, "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 
 gymmal 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 be re- 
 stored, 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 founda- 
 tion, by wearing rings, chains, or other vain gauds." 
 
 "Think what you do, my masters," said the Prior, "ere 
 you put your hand on the Church's patrimony. These 
 things are inter res sacras, 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 Copmanhurst; "for I will wear them myself." 
 
 " Friend, or brother," said the Prior, in answer to this 
 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 
 
354 IVANBOB. 
 
 diocesan, and care as little for the Bishop of York as I do 
 for the Abbot of Jorvaulx, the Prior, and all the convent." 
 
 "Thou art 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; 
 lapides pro pane condonantes lis, giving them stones 
 instead of bread, as the Vulgate hath it." 
 
 " Nay," said the friar, " an 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 be'st a hedge-priest,"* said the Prior, in great 
 wrath, " excommunicato vos." 
 
 " Thou be'st 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. Ossa ejus perfringam, I will break your bones, 
 as the Vulgate hath it." 
 
 " Hola!" cried the captain, " come the reverend brethren 
 to such terms? Keep thine assurance of peace, friar. 
 Prior, an thou hast not made thy peace perfect with God, 
 provoke the friar no further. Hermit, let the reverend 
 father depart in peace, as a ransomed man." 
 . The yeomen separated the incensed priests, who con- 
 tinued 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 considerable less pomp, 
 and in a much more apostolical condition, so far as worldly 
 matters were concerned, than he had exhibited before this 
 rencounter. 
 
 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 
 
 * See Note K. Hedge-Piiests. 
 
IVAtfKofl. 355 
 
 sealed with his signet, to a brother of his tribe at York, 
 requiring him to pay to the bearer the sum of a thousand 
 crowns," and to deliver certain merchandise specified in the 
 note. 
 
 " My brother Sheva," 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 produce 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, Diccon, 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 thon shalt spare in her cause will here- 
 after 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 hav- 
 ing witnessed so much of civil policy amongst persons cast 
 oat from all the ordinary protection and influence of the 
 law. 
 
 " Good fruit, Sir Knight," said the yeoman, " will some- 
 times 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 wish to exercise its license with some modera- 
 tion, and some who regret, it may be, that they are obliged 
 to follow such a trade at all." 
 
 "And to one of those," said the knight, "I am now, I 
 presume, speaking?" 
 
356 1VANB0B. 
 
 "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 honored 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. 
 
IYANHOE. 35? 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIV. 
 
 " Emg John. I'll tell thee what, my friend, 
 He is a very serpent in my way ; 
 And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, 
 He lies before me. Dost thou understand me ?" 
 
 — King John. 
 
 There was 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 
 Fitzurse, his able and politic agent, was at secret work 
 among them, tempering all to that pitch of courage which 
 was necessary in making an open declaration of their pur- 
 pose. But their enterprise was delayed by the absence of 
 more than one main limb of the confederacy. The stub- 
 born and daring, though brutal courage of Front-de- 
 Bceuf ; the buoyant spirits and bold bearing of De Bracy; 
 the sagacity, martial experience and renowned valor of 
 Brian de Bois-Guilbert, were important to the success of 
 their conspiracy; and wbile cursing in secret their unneces- 
 sary and unmeaning absence, neither John nor his adviser 
 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 about in the city of 
 York that De Bracy and Bois-Guilbert, with their con- 
 federate Front-de-Bceuf, had been taken or slain. Walde- 
 mar 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 
 
358 IVANBOE. 
 
 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 trans- 
 gressors over the the drawbridges of their own castles." 
 
 " But to become monarch of England," said his Ahitho- 
 phel, coolly, "it is necessary not only that your grace 
 should endure the transgressions of these unprincipled 
 marauders, but that you should afford them your pro- 
 tection, 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 draw-bridges into gib- 
 bets; 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- 
 Boeuf, 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 
 counselor, "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 Winkelbrand, De Bracy's lieu- 
 tenant, to cause his trumpet sound to horse, and to dis- 
 
IVANBOE. 369 
 
 play his banner, and to set presently forth toward the 
 castle of Front-de-Bceuf, to do what yet may be done for 
 the succor of our friends." 
 
 Prince John's face flushed with the pride of a spoiled 
 child who has undergone what it conceives to be an insult. 
 
 "By the face of God!" he said, "Waldemar Fitzurse, 
 much hast thou taken upon thee! and over malapert thou 
 wert to cause 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 Fitzurse, 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, Fitzurse," said the Prince, gravely; 
 " thy purpose hath atoned for thy hasty rashness. But 
 whom have we here? De Bracy himself, by the rood! 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 ft 
 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 Fitzurse, almost in the same 
 moment with his master, "thou wert wont to be a man. 
 Where is the Templar? where Front-de-Bceuf ?" 
 
 " The Templar is fled," said De Bracy; " Front-de-Bceuf 
 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, " Eichard is in England, I have seen and 
 spoken with him." 
 
 Prince John turned pale, tottered, and caught at the 
 
360 IVANB01S. 
 
 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 Fitzurse, " it cannot 
 be." 
 
 " It is as true as truth itself," said De Bracy; " I was 
 his prisoner, and spoke with him." 
 
 "With Eichard Plantagenet, sayest thou?" continued 
 Fitzurse. 
 
 " With Eichard Plantagent," replied De Bracy, " with 
 Eichard Coeur-de-Lion— with Eichard 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 Fitzurse, "such is indeed the fashion of 
 Eichard — 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 king- 
 dom slumber, and his own safety is endangered. What 
 dost thou propose to do, De Bracy?" 
 
 " I? — I offered Eichard 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 
 thou, 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," an- 
 swered Waldemar. 
 
 " Give her to me, Fitzurse, and I will maintain her as 
 fits her rank, with the help of lance and stirrup," said De 
 Bracy. 
 
 " Not so," answered Fitzurse; " I will take sanctuary in 
 this church of St. Peter — the Archbishop is my sworn 
 brother." 
 
 During this discourse, Prince John had gradually awak- 
 ened 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 
 
IVANHOE. 361 
 
 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, 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 
 Kichard'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, haught- 
 ily, " that I could secure by a word spoken to my brother. 
 But although you, De Bracy, and you, Waldemar Fitzurse, 
 are so ready to abandon me, 1 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 Eichard? And forget- 
 test thou, De Bracy, that Bobert Estoteville lies betwixt 
 thee and Hull with all his forces, and that the Earl of 
 Essex is gathering his followers? If we had reason to fear 
 these levies even before Kichard's return, trowest thou 
 there is any doubt now which party their leaders will take? 
 Trust me, Estoteville alone has strength enough to drive 
 all thy Free Lances into the Humber." Waldemar Pitz- 
 urse 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 withal." 
 
 "Not by me," said De Bracy, hastily; " I was his pris- 
 oner, 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 
 
362 IVANHOE. 
 
 will he but as they were when we commenced our enter- 
 prise. It was founded on the hope that Eichard would 
 remain a captive in Germany. Our Uncle Kobert lived 
 and died in the castle of Cardiffe." 
 
 '•'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 said my say." 
 
 " Prison or tomb," said De Bracy, " I wash my hands 
 of the whole matter." 
 
 "Villain!" said Prince John, "thou wouldst not be- 
 wray 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; "aud yon, good 
 my lord, forgive the scruples of valiant De Bracy; "I 
 trust I shall soon remove them." 
 
 " That passes your eloquence, Fitzurse," replied the 
 knight. 
 
 " Why, good Sir Maurice," rejoined the wily politician, 
 " start not aside like a scared steed, without, at least, con- 
 sidering the object of your terror. This Eichard — 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 
 heardst 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 Lac 
 and Sir Tristram won renown? or was it not by encoun- 
 tering giganitc knights under the shade of deep and un- 
 known forests?" 
 
 " Ay, but I promise you," said De Bracy, " that neither 
 Tristram nor Lancelot would have been match, hand to 
 hand, for Eichard 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 Prinoe John's service? 
 
IVANHOE. 363 
 
 Thou art apprised of our enemy, and then thou scruplest, 
 though thy patron's fortunes, those of thy comrades, thine 
 own, and the life and honor of every one amongst us, are 
 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 Winkelbrand 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; " 1 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-a-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 
 Fitzurse hath left a son, he hath fallen off from his father's 
 fidelity and courage." 
 
 " He hath fallen off from neither," said Waldemar Fitz- 
 urse; " 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 Cceur-de- 
 Lion. 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 enter- 
 
 * Reginald Fitzurse, William de Tracy, Hugh de Morville and 
 Richard Brito, were the gentlemen of Henry the Second's house- 
 hold, who, instigated by some passionate expression of their sov- 
 ereign, slew the celebrated Thomas-a-Becket. 
 
364 IVANEOE. 
 
 prise 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 Wetheral, Broad Thoresby, 
 and the Three Spears of Spyinghow, come to me instantly; 
 and let the scout-master, Hugh Bardou, 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 trangress 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 further 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 con- 
 fidential intimacy, proceeded to say, "What thinkest thou 
 of this Waldemar Fitzurse, my De Bracy ? He trusts to 
 be our Chancellor. Surely we will pause ere we give an 
 office so high to one who shews 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 unpleasant task — but no, Maurice ! I rather 
 honor 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 exalt in our estimation those who 
 deny our request. The arrest of my unfortunate brother 
 
IVANHOE. 365 
 
 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 begone 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 
 loftier stride along the ante-chamber, " that is indeed a prize 
 worth playing for !" 
 
 De Bracy had no sooner left the apartment than Prince 
 John summoned an attendant. 
 
 " Bid Hugh Bardon, our scout-master, come hither, as 
 soon as he shall have spoken with Waldemar Fitzurse." 
 
 The scout-master arrived after a brief delay, during 
 which John traversed the apartment with unequal and dis- 
 ordered steps. 
 
 " Bardon," said he, " what did Waldemar desire of 
 thee ?" 
 
 " Two resolute men, well acquainted with these northern 
 wilds, and skillful 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 Tynedale and Teviotdale thieves as a 
 bloodhound follows the slot of a hurt deer. The other is 
 Yorkshire bred, and has twanged his bowstring right oft 
 in merry Sherwood ; he knows each glade and dingle, copse 
 and high-wood, betwixt this and Kichmond." 
 
 " 'Tis well," said the Prince. " Goes Waldemar forth 
 with them ?" 
 
 " Instantly," said Bardon. 
 
 " With what attendance ?" asked John, carelessly. 
 
 " Broad Thoresby goes with him, and Wetheral, whom 
 they call, for his cruelty, Stephen Steel-heart, and three 
 northern men-at-arms that belonged to Kalph Middleton's 
 gang — they are called the Spears of Spyinghow." 
 
 " 'Tis well," said Prince John ; then added, after a 
 moment's pause, " Bardon, it imports our service that thou 
 keep a strict watch on Maurice de Bracy — so that he shall 
 
366 IVANEOB. 
 
 not observe it, however — and let us know of his motions 
 from time to time, with whom he converses, what he pro- 
 poseth. Fail not in this, as thou wilt be answerable." 
 
 Hugh Bardon 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." 
 
IVANHOE. 367 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 " Arouse the tiger of Hyrcanian deserts, 
 Strive with the half -starved lion for his prey ; 
 Lesser the risk, than rouse the slumbering fire 
 Of wild Fanaticism." 
 
 — Anonymous. 
 
 Ouk tale now turns to Isaac of York. Mounted upon a 
 mule, the gift of the outlaw, with two tall yeomen to act 
 as his guard and guides, the Jew had set out for the Pre- 
 ceptory of Templestowe, for the purpose of negotiating his 
 daughter's redemption. The Preceptory was but a day's 
 journey from the demolished castle of Torquilstone, and 
 the Jew had hoped to reach it before nightfall; accord- 
 ingly, 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 aug- 
 mented by bodily suffering, he was rendered altogether 
 incapable of proceeding further 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 countryman with 
 that kindness which the law prescribed, and which the 
 Jews practised 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, 
 
368 1VANH0E. 
 
 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 the patient. 
 " I grant thee, Nathan, that it is a dwelling of those to 
 whom the despised Children of the Promise are a stumb- 
 ling-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 Pre- 
 ceptories of the Templars as well as the commanderies of 
 the Knights Hospitallers, as they are called." * 
 
 " I know it well," said Nathan, " but wottest thou that 
 Lucas de Beaumanoir, 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 Beaumanoir 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 pur- 
 pose of their heart by pleasure, or bribed by promise of 
 gold and silver; but Beaumanoir is of a different stamp — 
 
 * The establishments of the Knight Templars were called Pre- 
 ceptories, and the title of those who presided in the Order was Pre- 
 ceptor ; as the principal Knights of Saint John were termed Com- 
 manders, and their house Commanderies. But these terms, were, 
 sometimes, it would seem, used indiscriminately. 
 
IVANEOB. 369 
 
 hating sensuality, despising pleasure, 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 Bdom, holding the 
 murder of a Jew to be an offering of as sweet savor as the 
 death of a Saracen. Impious and false things 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 Eabbi 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 Beaumanoir, being the chief man over them, may 
 turn Brian de Bois-Guilbert from the ill which he doth 
 meditate, and that he may deliver to me my beloved 
 daughter, Bebecca." 
 
 " 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-Guilbert 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 the house of 
 thy father, and bring me word how it has sped with thee; 
 and well do I hope thou wilt bring back with thee Bebecca, 
 even the scholar of the wise Miriam, whose cures the Gen- 
 tiles slandered as if they had been wrought by necromancy." 
 
 Isaac accordingly bade his friend farewell, and about an 
 hour's riding brought him before the Preceptory of Tem- 
 plestowe. 
 
S70 IVANBOE. 
 
 This establishment of the- Templars was seated amidst 
 fair meadows and pastures, which the devotion of the for- 
 mer 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 ren- 
 dered peculiarly necessary. Two halberdiers, clad in black, 
 guarded the draw-bridge, and others, in the same sad livery, 
 glided to and fro upon the walls with a funereal pace, 
 resembling specters 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 dishonor 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 indul- 
 gence, seemed at once to have revived at Templestowe 
 under the severe eye of Lucas Beaumanoir. 
 
 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 extor- 
 tions of unrelenting oppression. 
 
 Meantime, Lucas Beaumanoir 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 eye- 
 brows, overhanging eyes, of which, however, years had 
 been unable to quench the fire. A formidable warrior, hia 
 
1VANH0B. Zli 
 
 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 severe traits of physi- 
 ognomy, 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, unde- 
 pressed 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 Burrel 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 vair 
 or ermine decked this garment; but in respect of his age, 
 the Grand Master, as permitted by the rules, wore his doub- 
 let lined and trimmed with the softest lambskin, dressed 
 with the wool outward, which was the nearest approach he 
 could regularly make to use of fur, then the greatest 
 luxury of dress. In his hand he bore that singular abacus, 
 or staff of office, with which Templars are usually repre- 
 sented, having at the upper end a round plate, on which 
 was engraved the cross of the Order, inscribed within a 
 circle or orle, as heralds term it. His companion, who 
 attended on this great personage, had nearly the same dress 
 in all respects, but his extreme deference toward his Su- 
 perior 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 Beaumanoir could speak to him without turning round 
 his head. 
 
 " Conrade," said the Grand Master, " dear companion 
 of my battles and my 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 dis- 
 solved 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. Oh, valiant 
 Bobert de Bos! did I exclaim internally, as I gazed upon. 
 
372 IVANEOE. 
 
 these good soldiers of the cross, where they lie sculptured 
 on their sepulchres. Oh, worthy William de Mareschal! 
 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 Conrade Mont-Fitchet; "it 
 is but too true; and the irregularities of our brethren in 
 England are even more gross than those in Prance." 
 
 " Because they are more wealthy/' answered the Grand 
 Master. " Bear with me, brother, although I should some- 
 thing vaunt myself. Thou knowest the life I have led, 
 keeping each point of jay 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 even now go pranked out 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 listed to what is read, save such holy 
 things as may be recited aloud during the hours of refec- 
 tion; but lo! their ears are at the command of idle min- 
 strels, and their eyes study empty romaunts. They were 
 
 * In the ordinances of the Knights of the Temple, this phrase is 
 repeated in a variety of forms, and occurs in almost every chapter, 
 as if it were the signal- word of the order ; which may account for 
 its being so frequently put in the Grand Master's mouth. 
 
IVANHOE. 373 
 
 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. Simple- 
 ness 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 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, 
 Conrade! well it were that the relaxation of discipline 
 stopped even here! well thou knowest that we were forbid- 
 den to receive those devout women who, at the beginning, 
 were associated as sisters of our Order, because, saith 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 cope stone 
 which our blessed founder placed on the pure and unde- 
 filed doctrine which he had enjoined, we are prohibited 
 from offering, even to our sisters and our mothers, the kiss 
 of affection — ut omnium mulierum fugiantur 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 spirits of Hugh de Payen and 
 Godfrey de St. 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, Conrade, 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. Beaumanoir, 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 should 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 
 
 * See the 17th chapter of Leviticus, 
 
374 IVANHOB. 
 
 heathen and more accursed Jew. Beaumanoir, thou sleep- 
 est; up, and avenge our cause! Slay the sinners, male 
 and female! Take to thee the brand of Phineas! The 
 vision fled, Conrade; but as I awaked I could still hear the 
 clank of their mail, and see the waving of their white man- 
 tles. 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 Mont-Fitchet, 
 "the stain hath become ingrained by time and consue- 
 tude; let thy reformation be cautious, as it is just and 
 wise." 
 
 " No, Mont-Fitchet," 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 pre- 
 decessors, 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 presump- 
 tion which is an offense to them — we must reform that 
 license of manners which is a scandal to the whole Chris- 
 tian 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. 
 
 " A.men," said the Grand Master, with solemnity, " but 
 we must deserve His aid. I tell thee, Oonrade, that neither 
 the power 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 shew ourselves the faith- 
 ful 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 affec- 
 tions, 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 vest- 
 
1VANB0E. 375 
 
 ment (for the aspirants after this holy Order wore during 
 their novitiate the cast-off garments of the knights), en- 
 tered the garden, and bowing profoundly before the Grand 
 Master, stood silent, awaiting his permission ere he pre- 
 sumed to tell his errand. 
 
 " Is it not more seemly," said the Grand Master, "to 
 see this Damian, clothed in the garments of Christian hu- 
 mility, 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, Damian, 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-Guilbert." 
 
 " Thou wert right to give me knowledge of it," said 
 the Grand Master; "in our presence a Preceptor is but as 
 a common compeer of our Order, who may not walk accord- 
 ing to his own will, but to that of his Master, even accord- 
 ing to the text, ' In the hearing of the ear he hath obeyed 
 me.' It imports us especially to know of this Bois-Guil- 
 bert's proceedings," said he, turning to his companion. 
 
 " Keport speaks him brave and valiant," said Conrade. 
 
 "And truly is he so spoken of," said the Grand Master. 
 "In our valpr only we are not degenerated from our pre- 
 decessors, 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 murmnrer, 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. 
 Damian," he continued, " lead the Jew to our presence." 
 
 The squire departed with a profound reverence, and in 
 a few minutes returned, marshaling in Isaac of York. 
 No naked slave, ushered into the presence of some mighty 
 prince, could approach his judgment-seat with more pro- 
 found reverence and terror than that with which the Jew 
 
376 IVANHOE. 
 
 drew near to the presence of the Grand Master. When he had 
 approached within the distance of three yards, Beaumanoir 
 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 submission of Oriental slavery. 
 
 " Damian," 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 or time 
 npon 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-Guilbert?" 
 
 Isaac 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? Beaumanoir saw his mortal appre- 
 hension, and condescended to give him some assurance. 
 
 "Pear 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 
 Guilbert?" 
 
 "I am bearer of a letter," stammered out the Jew, "so 
 please your reverend valor, to that good knight, from Prior 
 Aymer of the Abbey of Jorvaulx." 
 
 "Said I not these were evil times, Conrade?" said the 
 Master. " A Cistertian 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. 
 
IVANEOE. 377 
 
 " Back, dog!" said the Grand Master; " I touch not 
 misbelievers, save with the sword. Conrade, take thou 
 the letter from the Jew, and give it to me." 
 
 Beaumanoir, being thus possessed of the tablets, in- 
 spected the outside carefully, and then proceeded to undo 
 the pack-thread which secured its folds. "Eeverend 
 father," said Conrade interposing, though with much 
 deference, '''wilt thou break the seal?" 
 
 "And will I not?" said Beaumanoir, with a frown. 
 "Is it not written in the forty-second capital, De Lectione 
 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 Conrade 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 
 thrashing-floor?" 
 
 Mont-Fitchet took the letter from his Superior, and was 
 about to peruse it. "Head it aloud, Conrade," said the 
 Grand Master; "and do thou" (to Isaac) "attend to the 
 purport of it, for we will question thee concerning it." 
 
 Conrade read the letter, which was in these words-. — 
 
 "Aymer, by divine grace Prior of the Cistertian house 
 of St. Mary's of Jorvaulx, to Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 
 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 of Front-de-Bceuf'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 
 
378 IVANHOE. 
 
 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, Invenientur vigilantes. And the 
 wealthy Jew her father, Isaac of York, having prayed of 
 me letters in his behalf, I gave 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 Imtificat cor hominis; and again, 
 Rex delectabitur pulchrituaine tua. 
 
 " Till which merry meeting, we wish you farewell. 
 Given from this den of thieves, about the hour of matins, 
 " Aymer Pe. S. M. Jorvolciencis. 
 
 " Postcriptum. 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, Conrade?" 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 Aymer. And what meaneth he, 
 I trow, by this second Witch of Endor?" said he to his 
 confidant, something apart. 
 
 Conrade 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 
 toward whom they loved par amours; but the explanation 
 did not satisfy the bigoted. Beanmanoir. 
 
 " There is more in it than thou dost guess, Conrade; 
 thy simplicity is no match for this deep abyss of wicked- 
 ness. This Rebecca 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 prisoner with Brian de Bois- 
 Guilbert?" 
 
IVANHOE. 379 
 
 "Ay, reverend valorous sir," stammered poor Isaac, 
 "and whatsoever ransom a poor man may pay for her- 
 deliverance " 
 
 "Peace!" said the Grand Master. "This thy daughter 
 hath practice the art of healing, hath she not?" 
 
 " Ay, gracious sir," answered the Jew, with more confi- 
 dence; " 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." 
 
 Beaumanoir turned to Mont-Fitchet 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 
 percutiatur leo vorans. Up on the lion! Down with the 
 destroyer!" said he, shaking aloft his mystic abacus, as if iu 
 defiance of the powers of darkness. " Thy daughter work- 
 eth the cures, I doubt not," thus he went on to address the 
 Jew, " by words and sigils, and periapts, and other cabal- 
 istic mysteries." 
 
 " Nay, reverend and brave knight," answered Isaac, 
 "but in chief measure by a balsam of marvelous virtue." 
 
 " Where had she that secret?" said Beaumanoir. 
 
 " 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 Chris- 
 tian land?" exclaimed the Grand Master, crossing himself. 
 " Her body was burnt at a stake, and her ashes were scat- 
 tered 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 spell and incantation over the 
 soldiers of the blessed Temple. There, Damian, spurn 
 this Jew from the gate — shoot him dead if he oppose or 
 turn again. With his daughter we will deal as the Chris- 
 tian 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 no better than re- 
 
380 IVANHOE, 
 
 turn 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 trem- 
 ble for her life. Meanwhile, the Grand Master ordered to 
 his presence the Preceptor of Templestowe. 
 
IVANSOM 381 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVI. 
 
 " 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 eke with it his service. All admit it, 
 All practise it ; and he who is content 
 With shewing what he is, shall have small credit 
 In church, or camp, or state. So wags the world. " 
 
 —Old Play. 
 
 Albert Malvoisin, President, or, in the language of 
 the Order, Preceptor of the establishment of Templestowe, 
 was brother to that Philip Malvoisin who has been already 
 occasionally mentioned in this history, and was, like that 
 baron, in close league with Brian de Bois-Guilbert. 
 
 Amongst dissolute and unprincipled men, of whom the 
 Temple Order included but too many, Albert of Temple- 
 stowe might be distinguished ; but with this difference from 
 the audacious Bois-Guilbert, 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 Malvoisin listened 
 with such respect and apparent contrition to the rebuke of 
 his Superior, and made such haste to reform the particu- 
 lars he censured — succeeded, in fine, so well in giving an 
 air of ascetic devotion to a family which had been lately 
 devoted to license and pleasure, that Lucas Beaumanoir 
 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 
 
382 IVANHOE. 
 
 Master were greatly shaken by the intelligence that Albert 
 had received within a 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 purposes 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 Malvoisin was overwhelmed with confusion ; for 
 the unfortunate Eebecca 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 Beaumanoir ruin to Bois-Guilbert and to 
 himself, unless he should be able to avert the impending 
 storm. 
 
 "Why are you mute?" continued the Grand Master. 
 
 "Is it permitted to me to reply?" answered the Pre- 
 ceptor, in a tone of the deepest humility, although by the 
 question he only meant to gain an instant's space for 
 arranging his ideas. 
 
 " Speak, you are permitted," said the Grand Master — 
 " speak, and say, knowest thou the capital of our holy rule — 
 Be commilitionibus Templi in sancta civitate, qui cum 
 miserrimis mulieribus versantur, propter oblectationem 
 carnis ?" * 
 
 "Surely, most reverend 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 Malvoisin; "good 
 angels guard us!" 
 
 "Ay, brother, a Jewish sorceress!" said the Grand 
 Master, sternly. "I have said it. Darest thou deny that 
 this Eebecca, the daughter of that wretched ursurer, Isaac 
 of York, and the pupil of the foul witch Miriam, is now — 
 
 * The edict which he quotes is against communion with women 
 of light character. 
 
IYANHDE. 383 
 
 shame to be thought or spoken! — lodged within this thy 
 Preceptory?" 
 
 "Your wisdom, reverend father," answered the Pre- 
 ceptor, "hath rolled away the darkness from my under- 
 standing. Much did I wonder that so good a knight as 
 Brian de Bois-Guilbert 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, 
 whieh 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 Grand Master. 
 
 "What! under this roof ?" said the Preceptor, crossing 
 himself: "St. Magdalene and the ten thousand virgins 
 forbid! No! if I have sinned in receiving her here, it was in 
 the erring thought that I might thus break off our brother's 
 besotted devotion to this Jewess, 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 quean to be a sorceress, perchance it may account 
 fully for his enamored folly." 
 
 "It doth! — it doth?" said Beaumanoir. "See, brother 
 Conrade, the peril of yielding to the first devices and 
 blandishments of Satan! We look upon women only to 
 gratify the lust of the eye, and to take pleasure in what 
 men call her beauty; and the Ancient Enemy, the devour- 
 ing 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-Guilbert 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 were deep pity," said Conrade Mont-Fitchet, "to 
 lose to the Order one of its best lances, when the Holy 
 Community most requires the aid of its sons. Three 
 hundred Saracens hath this Brian de Bois-Guilbert slain 
 with bis own hand." 
 
 "The blood of these accursed dogs," said the Grand 
 Master, " shall- be a sweet and acceptable offering to the 
 saints and angels whom they despise and blaspheme; and 
 
384 IVANHOB. 
 
 ■with their aid will we counteract the spells and charms 
 with which our brother is entwined as in « net. He shall 
 burst the bands of this Delilah, as Samson burst the new 
 cords with which the Philistines had bound him, and shall 
 slaughter the infidels, even heaps upon heaps. But con- 
 cerning 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-Guilbert, had 
 taken another direction, began now to fear he was carrying 
 it too far. 
 
 "The laws of England," interrupted Beaumanoir, "per- 
 mit 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 Perceptory 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 Malvoisin bowed and retired — not to give direc- 
 tions for preparing the hall, but to seek out Brian de Bois- 
 Guilbert, and 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 un- 
 grateful, to scorn him who, amidst blood and flames, would 
 have saved her life at the risk of his own ! By Heaven, 
 Malvoisin! I abode until roof and rafters crackled and 
 crashed around me. I was the butt of a hundred arrows; 
 they rattled on mine armor like hailstones against a latticed 
 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 gratif ude, 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 
 
IVAimoE. 385 
 
 continence? Did I not tell yon that there were enough 
 willing Christian damsels to be met with, who would think 
 it sin to refuse so brave a knight le don, d'amouretox merci, 
 and you must needs anchor your affection on a willful, ob- 
 stinate Jewess! By the mass, I think old Lucas Beauma- 
 noir guesses right when he maintains she hath cast a spell 
 over you." 
 
 "Lucas Beaumanoir?" said Bois-Guilbert, reproachfully. 
 "Are these your precautions, Malvoisin? Hast thou suf- 
 fered the dotard to learn that Bebecca is in the Preceptory?" 
 
 " How could I help it?" said the Preceptor. " I neg- 
 lected nothing that could keep secret your mystery; but it 
 is betrayed, and whether by 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-Guilbert. 
 
 " By Heaven, she must and will !" said Malvoisin. " Neither 
 you nor any one else can save her. Lucas Beaumanoir hath 
 settled that the death of a Jewess will be a sin-offering suf- 
 ficient to atone for all the amorous indulgences of the 
 Knights-Templars; and thou knowest he hath both the 
 power and will to execute so reasonable and pious a purpose." 
 
 " Will future ages believe that such stupid bigotry ever 
 existed?" said Bois-Guilbert, striding up and down the 
 apartment. 
 
 " What they may believe, I know not," said Malvoisin, 
 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 Bois-Guilbert. "Albert, thou art my 
 friend. Thou must connive at her escape, Malvoisin, 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 attendants of the Grand Master, 
 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 haven. I have 
 risked enough already for your sake. I have no mind to 
 encounter a sentence of degradation, or even to lose my 
 
386 IYAKB6B. 
 
 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-Guilbert— thy present rank, 
 thy future honors, all depend on thy place in the Order. 
 Shouldst thou adhere perversely to thy passion for this 
 Eebecca, thou will give Beaumanoir 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 toward 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 may best suit thine 
 own humor." 
 
 "Malvoisin," said Bois-Guilbert, "thou art a cold- 
 blooded " 
 
 "Friend," said the Preceptor, "hastening to fill up the 
 blank, in which Bois-Guilbert 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, thou 
 canst not save Eebecca. I tell thee once more 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 dotard's very 
 beard will I say " 
 
 " Say to him, then, to his beard," continued Malvoisin, 
 coolly, " that yon love this 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 enchan- 
 tress; while thou, taken in flagrant delict 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, Malvoisin," said Brian de 
 Bois-Guilbert, 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 " 
 
tVAtfffoM. 38? 
 
 " Qualify not thy wise and necessary resolution," said 
 Malvoisin; "women are but the toys which amuse our 
 lighter hours — ambition is the serious business of life. 
 Perish a thousand such frail baubles as this Jewess, before 
 thy manly 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 Bois-Guilbert, "so soon?" 
 
 "Ay," replied the Preceptor, "trial moves rapidly on 
 when the judge has determined the sentence beforehand." 
 
 " Rebecca," said Bois-Guilbert, when he was left alone, 
 " thou art like to cost 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 ife and honor of Bois-Guilbert 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 Conrade Mont - Fitchet, who 
 acquainted him with the Grand Master's resolution to bring 
 the Jewess to instant trial for sorcery. 
 
 "It is surely a dream," said the Preceptor; "we have 
 many Jewish physicians, and we call them not wizards 
 though they work wonderful cures." 
 
 "The Grand Master thinks otherwise," said Mont- 
 Fitchet; "and, Albert, I will be upright with thee— 
 wizard or not, it were better that this miserable damsel die, 
 than that Brian de Bois-Guilbert should be lost to the 
 Order, or the Order divided by internal dissension. Thou 
 knowest his high rank, his fame in arms — thou knowest 
 the zeal with which many of our brethern 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 her 
 single body, it were better she suffered alone, than that 
 Bois-Guilbert were partner in her destruction." 
 
 " I have been working him even now to abandon her," 
 said Malvoisin; " but still, are there grounds enough to 
 condemn this Rebecca for sorcery? Will not the Grand 
 Master change his mind when he sees that the proofs are so 
 weak?" 
 
388 IVANHOB. 
 
 "They must be strengthened, Albert," replied Mont- 
 Fitchet, " they must be strengthened. Dost thou under- 
 stand me?" 
 
 "I do," said the Preceptor, "nor do I scruple to do 
 aught for advancement of the Order — but there is little 
 time to find engines fitting." 
 
 " Malvoisin, they must be found," said Conrade; " well 
 will it advantage both the Order and thee. This Temple- 
 stowe is a poor Preceptory — that of Maison-Dieu is worth 
 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 Malvoisin, "among those who came 
 hither with Bois-Guilbert, two fellows whom I well know; 
 servants they were to my brother Philip de Malvoisin, and 
 passed from his service to that of Front-de-Bceuf. 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 bore them a sor- 
 ceress for a zecchin," said the Preceptor. 
 
 "Away, then," said Mont-Fitchet; "at noon the affair 
 will proceed. I have not seen our senior in such earnest 
 preparation since he condemned to the stake Hamet Alfagi, 
 a convert who relapsed to the Moslem faith." 
 
 The ponderous castle-bell had tolled the point of noon, 
 when Rebecca 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 circum- 
 stance rather gave her joy; for she was more afraid of the 
 solitary visits of the fierce and passionate Bois-Guilbert 
 than of any evil that could befall her besides. The door 
 of the chamber was unlocked, and Conrade and the Pre- 
 ceptor Malvoisin entered, attended by four wardens 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 Conrade, "it is not for thee to 
 question, but to obey. Nevertheless, be it known to thee, 
 
IVANHOE. 389 
 
 that thou art to be brought before the tribunal of the 
 Grand Master of our holy Order, there to answer for thine 
 offenses." 
 
 "May the God of Abraham be praised!" said Kebecea, 
 folding her hands devoutly; "the name of a judge, though 
 an enemy to my people, is to me as the name of a protec- 
 tor. Most willingly do I follow thee — permit me only to 
 wrap my veil around my head." 
 
 They descended the stair with slow and solemn ste*p, 
 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 a 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 Eebecca, attended by the Preceptor and 
 Mont-Fitchet, and followed by the guard of halberdiers, 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 re- 
 ceived 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 con- 
 ducted. She gazed, accordingly, upon the scene, which 
 we shall endeavor to describe in the next chapter. 
 
390 IVAN HOB. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 " Stern was the law which bade its vot'ries leave 
 At human woes with human hearts to grieve; 
 Stern was the law, which at the winning wile 
 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 the 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 proceed- 
 ings of the day. The black dresses, bare scalps, and 
 demure looks of these churchmen, formed a strong con- 
 trast to the warlike appearance of the knights who attended, 
 either as residing in the Preceptory, or as come thither 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 
 superiors; and the knights, who enjoyed no such rank in 
 the Order, were placed on benches still lower, and preserv- 
 ing 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 pro- 
 found gravity; and in the faces of the knights might be 
 perceived traces of military daring, united with the solemn 
 
IVAtfllOfi, 391 
 
 carriage becoming men of a 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 those 
 inferior persons were, in one rank or other, 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 Beau man oir 
 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, Venite exultemus 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 among its arches with the pleasing, yet solemn, 
 sound of the rushing of mighty waters. 
 
 When the sounds ceased, the Grand Master glanced his 
 eye slowly around the circle, and observed that the seat of 
 one of the Preceptors was vacant. Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 
 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, with 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, Conrade, 
 how this holy work distresses him. To this can the light 
 look of woman, aided by the Prince of the Powers of this 
 
392 1VANB0E. 
 
 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 Leo perculiatur !" 
 
 This was communicated apart to his confidential fol- 
 lower, Conrade Mout-Fitchet. The Grand Master then 
 addressed the assembly: 
 
 " Reverend and valiant men, Knights, Preceptors, and 
 Companions of this Holy Order, my brethren and my chil- 
 dren! — 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 no defect 
 of power in us which hath occasioned the assembling of 
 this congregation; for, however unworthy in our person, 
 yet to ns is committed, with this batoon, 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 coun- 
 cil save at the will and command of the Master; leaving it 
 free to us, as to those more worthy fathers who have pre- 
 ceded us in this our office, to judge, as well of the occasion 
 as of the 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 king 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 Rebecca, daughter of Isaac of 
 York — a woman infamous for sortileges 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 
 
 * The reader is again referred to the Rules of the Poor Military 
 Brotherhood of the Temple, which occur in the Works of St Ber- 
 nard.— L. T. 
 
IVANHOE. 393 
 
 Temple — not of a Knight Companion, but of a Preceptor 
 of our Order, first in honor as in place. Our brother, 
 Brian de Bois-Guilbert, is well-known to ourselves and to 
 all degrees who now hear me, as a true and zealous cham- 
 pion of the Cross, by whose arm many deeds of valor have 
 been wrought in the Holy Land, and the holy places puri- 
 fied from pollution by the blood of those infidels who 
 defiled them. Neither nave our brother's sagacity and pru- 
 dence 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 De Bois-Guilbert as one 
 who may well be put in nomination as successor to this 
 batoon, when it shall please Heaven to release us from the 
 toil of bearing it. If we were told that such a man, so 
 honored and so honorable, suddenly casting away regard for 
 his character, his vows, his brethren and his prospects, had 
 associated to himself a Jewish damsel, wandered in this 
 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 
 the noble knight was possessed by some evil demon, or 
 influenced by some wicked spell? If we could suppose it 
 otherwise, think not rank, valor, high repute, or any 
 earthly consideration, should prevent us from visiting him 
 with punishment, that the evil thing might be removed, 
 even according to the text, Auferte malum ex vobis. 
 For various and heinous are the acts of trangression 
 against the rule of our blessed Order in this lamentable 
 history. First, he hath walked according to his proper 
 will, contrary to capital 33, Quod nullus juxta propriam 
 voluntatem incedat. Second, he hath held communication 
 with an excommunicated person, capital 57, Ut fratres 
 non participent cum excommunicatis, and therefore hath a 
 portion of Anathema Maranatha. Third, he hath con- 
 versed with strange women, contrary to the capital, Ut 
 fratres non conversantur cum extraneis mulieribus. 
 Fourth, he hath not avoided, nay, he hath, it is to be 
 feared, solicited the kiss of women; by which, saith the 
 last rule of our renowned Order, Ut fugiantur oscula, 
 the soldiers of the Cross are brought into a snare. For 
 which heinous and multiplied guilt, Brian de. Bois-GuU- 
 
394 IVANHOW. 
 
 bert should be cut off and cast out from our congregation, 
 were he the right hand and the 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 statue De osculis fugiendis, became now grave 
 enough, and .anxiously waited what the Grand Master was 
 next to propose. 
 
 "Such," he said, "and so great should indeed be the 
 punishment of a Knight-Templar, who wilfully offended 
 against the rules of his Order in such weighty points. 
 But 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 backslidings, and, 
 imposing on him only such penance as may purify him 
 from his iniquity, we are to turn the full edge of our indig- 
 nation 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 bear- 
 ing thereof, and judge whether our justice may be satis- 
 fied with the punishment of this infidel woman, or if we 
 must go on, with a bleeding heart, to the further proceed- 
 ing against our brother." 
 
 Several witnesses were called upon to prove the risks to 
 which Bois-Guilbert exposed himself in endeavoring to 
 save Kebecca from the blazing 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 informa- 
 tion it had been delivered. Thus the dangers which Bois- 
 Guilbert surmounted, in themselves sufficiently great, 
 became portentious in their narrative. The devotion of the 
 knight to Kebecca'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 although her language was often severe and 
 upbraiding, was painted as carried to an excess, which, in 
 a man of his haughty temper, seemed almost preter- 
 natural, 
 
IVANHOE. 395 
 
 The Preceptor of Templestowe was then called on to 
 describe the manner in which Bois-Guilbert and the 
 Jewess arrived at the Preceptory. The evidence of 
 Makoisin was skilfully guarded. But while he apparently 
 studied to spare the feelings of Bois-Guilbert, he threw in, 
 from *;ime to time, such hints as seemed to infer that he 
 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 
 Kebecca and her lover within the walls of the Preceptory — 
 " But my defense," he concluded, " has been made in my 
 confession to our most reverend 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 Beau- 
 manoir; "thy motives were good, since thou didst judge it 
 right to arrest thine erring brother in his career of precip- 
 itate folly. But thy conduct was wrong; as he that would 
 stop a runaway steed, and seizing by the stirrup instead of 
 the bridle, receiveth injury himself, instead of accomplish- 
 ing his purpose. Thirteen pater-nosters 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 con- 
 versation 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?" 
 
 Herman of Goodalricke was the Fourth Preceptor 
 present; the other three were Conrade, Malvoisin, and 
 Bois-Guilbert himself, Herman was an ancient warrior, 
 
396 IVANHOE. 
 
 whose face was marked with scars inflicted by the saber of 
 the Moslemah, and had great rank and consideration 
 among his brethren. He arose and bowed to the Grand 
 Master, who instantly granted hirn license of speech. "I 
 would crave to know, most Eeverend Father, of our valiant 
 brother, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, what he says to these 
 wondrous accusations, and with what eye he himself now 
 regards his unhappy intercourse with this Jewish maiden?" 
 
 " Brian de Bois-Guilbert," said the Grand Master, " thou 
 hearest the question which our brother of Goodalricke 
 desirest thou shouldst answer. I command thee to reply to 
 him." 
 
 Bois-Guilbert 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, Sathanas! Speak, Brian de Bois- 
 Guilbert, 1 conjure thee, by this symbol of our Holy 
 Order." 
 
 Bois-Guilbert 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- 
 Guilbert," he answered, " replies not, most Eeverend 
 Father, to such wild and vague charges. If his honor be 
 impeached he will defend it with his body, and with that 
 sword which has often fought for Christendom." 
 
 "We forgive thee, Brother Brian," said the Grand 
 Master; " though that thou hast boasted thy warlike achieve- 
 ments 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 ourpardon, judging thou speakest 
 less of thine own suggestion than from the impulse of him 
 whom, by Heaven's leave, we will quell and drive forth 
 from our assembly." A glance of disdain flashed from the 
 dark, fierce eyes of Bois-Guilbert, but he made no reply. 
 " And now," pursued the Grand Master, " since our 
 Brother of Goodalricke's question has been thus imperfectly 
 answered, pursue we our quest, brethren, and, with our 
 patron's assistance, we will search to the bottom this mys- 
 tery of iniquity. Let those who have aught to witness of 
 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 
 
IVANHOE. 397 
 
 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 cured 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 Eebecca's directions, 
 and especially a warming and spicy-smelling balsam, had in 
 some degree restored him to the use of his limbs. More- 
 over, 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. 
 "And 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 the creed, and it never 
 operated a whit less kindly." 
 
 " Peace, slave," said the Grand Master, "and begone. 
 It well suits brutes like thee to be tampering and trinket- 
 ing with hellish cures, and to be giving our labor 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 
 unguent of which thou speakest!" 
 
 The peasant, fumbling in his bosom- with a trembling 
 hand, produced a small box bearing some Hebrew char- 
 acters on the lid, which was, with most of the audience, a 
 sure proof that the devil had stood apothecary. Beau- 
 manoir, 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 Sathanas," said he, 
 " 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 unguent?" 
 
398 rVANHOE. 
 
 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 savored 
 of myrrh and camphire, which they took to be Oriental 
 herbs. But with the true professional hatred to a success- 
 ful practitioner of their art, they insinuated that, since the 
 medicine was beyond their own knowledge, ip must neces- 
 sarily have been compounded from an unlawful and magi- 
 cal pharmacopeia; since they themselves, though no con- 
 jurers, 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. 
 
 " Higg, tne son of Snell," answered the peasant. 
 
 " Then, Higg, son of Snell/' said the Grand Master, " I 
 tell thee it is better to be bedridden than to accept the 
 benefit of unbelievers'' medicine, and thou mayest arise and 
 walk; better to daspoil 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, toe "esson somes too late for me, for I am 
 but a maimed man; but I will tell my two brethren who 
 serve the rich Eabbi Nathan Ben Samuel, that your mas- 
 tership says it is more lawful to rob him than to render 
 him faithful service." 
 
 "Out with the prating villain!" said Beau manoir, who 
 was not prepared to refute this practical application of his 
 general maxim. 
 
 Higg, 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 encount- 
 ering the frown of that severe judga the terror of which 
 withered his very heart within him. 
 
 At ttiis 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 wont of the daughters of her people to uncover 
 their faces, when a,lone in an assembly of strangers." The 
 
IVANHOE. 399 
 
 sweet tones of her voice, and the softness of her reply, 
 impressed on the audience a sentiment of pity and sym- 
 pathy. But Beaumanoir, in whose mind the suppression 
 or each feeling of humanity which could interfere with his 
 imagined duty, was a virtue of itself, repeated his com- 
 mand that his victim should be unveiled. The guards 
 were about to remove her veil accordingly, when she stood 
 up before the Grand Master, 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 of 
 female decency, let me not be thus handled in your pres- 
 ence; 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 Beaumanoir himself; "ye are elders among 
 your people, and at your command I will shew the features 
 of an ill-fated maiden." 
 
 She withdrew her veil, and looked on them with a coun- 
 tenance in which bashfulness contended 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 witch- 
 craft. But Higg, the son of Snell, felt most deeply the 
 effect produced by the sight of the countenance of his bene- 
 factress. " Let me go forth," he said to the warders at the 
 ball door, " let me go forth! To look at her again will kill 
 me, for I have had a share in murdering her." 
 
 " Peace, poor man," said Bebecca, when she heard his 
 exclamation; "thou hast done me no harm by speaking the 
 truth — thou canst not aid me by thy complaints or lamen- 
 tations. Peace, I pray thee — go home and save thyself." 
 
 Higg 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 per- 
 mitted to remain. The two men at-arms, with whom 
 Albert Malvoisin had not failed to communicate upon the 
 import of their testimony, were now called forward. 
 Though both were hardened and inflexible villains, the 
 gight of the captive maiden, as well as her excelling beauty, 
 
400 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 
 which would have seemed suspicions to more impartial 
 judges, circumstances either altogether fictitious or trivial, 
 and natural in themselves, but rendered pregnant with sus- 
 picion 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 physi- 
 cally 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 anl 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 charac- 
 ters 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 Torqnilstone. She did, he said, make certain 
 signs upon the wound, and repeated certain mysterious 
 words, which he blessed God he understood not, when the 
 iron head of a sqnare cross-bow bolt disengaged itself from 
 the wound, the bleeding was stanched, the wound was 
 closed, and the dying man was, within the quarter of an 
 hour, walking upon the ramparts, and assisting the witness 
 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 
 Torquilstone. But it was the more difficult to dispute the 
 accuracy of the witness, as, in order to produce rea,l evi- 
 
IVANHOB. 401 
 
 dence 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 miraculous. 
 
 His comrade had been a witness from a neighboring bat- 
 tlement of the scene betwixt Kebecca and Bois-Guilbert, 
 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 Kebecca 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 Torquilstone; 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 
 Eebecca's youth, though combined with the most exquisite 
 beauty. 
 
 The Grand Master had collected the suffrages, and now, 
 in a solemn tone, demanded of Kebecca what she had to 
 say against the sentence of condemnation which he was 
 about to pronounce. 
 
 " To invoke your pity," said the lovely Jewess, with a 
 voice 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 dis- 
 pleasing 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 ad- 
 vantage 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 coun- 
 try. 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 
 
4()2 IVAmoB. 
 
 of Belial has urged upon me— friendless, defenceless and 
 his prisoner. But he is of your own faith, and his lightest 
 affirmance would weigh down the most solemn protestations 
 of the distressed Jewess. I will not, therefore, return to 
 himself the charge brought against me — but to himself — 
 yes, Brian de Bois-Gnilbert, to thyself I appeal, whether 
 these accusations are not false? as monstrous and calum- 
 nious as they are deadly?" 
 
 There was a pausejall eyes turned to Brian de-Bois- 
 Guilbert. 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 knight- 
 hood thou dost vaunt — by the honor of thy mother — by 
 the tomb and bones of thy father — I conjure thee to say 
 are these things true?" 
 
 " Answer her, brother," said the Grand Master, " if the 
 Enemy with whom thou dost wrestle will give thee -power." 
 
 In fact, Bois-Guilbert seemed agitated by contending 
 passions, which almost convulsed his features, and it was 
 with a constrained voice that at last he replied, looking to 
 Eebecca, "The scroll!— the scroll!" 
 
 "Ay," said Beaumanoir, "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 it it were, from Bois-Guilbert, 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 com- 
 mentary which ran through the assembly at the strange 
 reply of Bois-Guilbert, gave Rebecca leisure to examine and 
 instantly to destroy the scroll unobserved. When the whis- 
 per had ceased, the Grand Master spoke: 
 
 " Rebecca, thou canst derive no benefit from the evidence 
 of this unhappy knight, for whom, as we well perceive, the 
 Enemy is yet too powerful. Hast thou aught else to sav ?" 
 
 " There is yet one chance of life left to me," said Re- 
 becca, "even by your own fierce laws. Life has been 
 miserable — miserable, at least, of lato — but I will not cast 
 away the gift of God while He affords me the means of 
 
IVANHOB. 403 
 
 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, Eebecca," replied the Grand Master, " will 
 lay lance in rest for a sorceress? Who will be the cham- 
 pion of a Jewess?" 
 
 "God will raise me up a champion," said Eebecca; "it 
 cannot be that in merry England — the hospitable, the 
 generous, the free, where so many are ready to peril their 
 lives for honor, there will not be found one to fight for 
 justice. But it is enough that I challenge the trial by 
 combat — there lies my gage." 
 
 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. 
 
404 IVANEOE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 " There I throw my gage, 
 To prove it on thee to the extremest point 
 Of martial daring." 
 
 — Richard II. 
 
 Even Lucas Beaumanoir 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 incum- 
 bent 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 it the kinder feelings of 
 nature, which grieves that so goodly a form should be a 
 vessel of perdition. Repent, my daughter — confess thy 
 withcrafts — 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 Rebecca; "it was 
 delivered in thunders and in storms upon the mountain of 
 
IVANHOE. . 405 
 
 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 Beaumanoir, "stand forth, 
 and tell this obstinate infidel " 
 
 " Forgive the interruption," said Eebecca, 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 an- 
 swer to my demand of a champion." 
 
 "Give me her glove," said Beaumanoir. "This is, 
 indeed," he continued, as he looked at the flimsy texture 
 and slender fingers, " a slight and frail gage for a purpose 
 so deadly! Seest thou, Rebecca, 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 Eebecca, 
 "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 Eebecca. 
 
 " 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 Beaumanoir, " you are aware that we 
 might well have refused to this woman the benefit of trial 
 by combat — but though a Jewess and an unbeliever, she 
 is also a stranger and defenceless, 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, there- 
 fore, stands the case. Eebecca, 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 gage 
 of battle, naming him, at the same time, to be our cham- 
 pion on the field?" 
 ' " To Brian de Bois-Guilbert, whom it chiefly concerns," 
 
40(5 1VANSOB. 
 
 said the Preceptor of Goodalricke, "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 Goodal- 
 ricke, " no spell can affect the champion who comes for- 
 ward 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-Guilbert. It is our charge to thee, brother," he con- 
 tinued, addressing himself to Bois-Guilbert, "that thou 
 do thy battle manfully, nothing doubting that the good 
 cause shall triumph. And do thou, Bebecca, attend, that 
 we assign thee the third day from the present to find a 
 champion." 
 
 "That is but brief space," answered Rebecca, "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 presence, and divers 
 weighty causes call on us the fourth day from hence." 
 
 " God's will be done!" said Rebecca; "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 Grand 
 Master; " but well know we who can array himself like an 
 angel of light. 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 Malvoisin, still holding Rebecca's glove in his 
 hand, was speaking to Bois-Guilbert very earnestly, but in 
 a low voice. 
 
 "How!" said the Grand Master, "will he not receive 
 the gage?" 
 
 " He will — he doth, most Reverend Father," said Mal- 
 voisin, 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." 
 
IVANHOE. 40: 
 
 "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 shalt 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 pre- 
 tend ignorance." 
 
 One of the chaplains, who acted as clerk 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: 
 
 "Rebecca, a Jewish daughter of Isaac of York, being 
 attainted of sorcery, seduction, and other damnable prac- 
 tices, practiced on a Knight 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 essoine* of her body as 
 being unable to combat in her own behalf, she doth offer, 
 by a champion instead thereof, to vouch her case, he per- 
 forming his loyal devoir in all knightly sort, with such 
 arms as to gage of battle do fully appertain, and that at her 
 peril and cost. And therewith she proffered her gage. 
 And the gage having been delivered to the noble Lord and 
 Knight, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, of the Holy Order of the 
 Temple of Zion, he was appointed to do this battle, in be- 
 half of this order and himself, as injured and impaired by 
 the practices of the appellant. Wherefore the most rever- 
 end Father and puissant Lord, Lucas Marquis of Beauina- 
 noir, did allow of the said challenge, and of the said essoine 
 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 con- 
 victed of sorcery or seduction; and also the defendant so 
 
 * Essoine signifies excuse, and here relates to the appellant's privi- 
 lege of appearing by her champion, in excuse of her own person on 
 account of her sex. 
 
408 IVANHOR 
 
 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 commend- 
 able 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. Rebecca spoke not, but she looked 
 up to heaven, and folding her hands, remained for a min- 
 ute without change of attitude. She then modestly re- 
 minded 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 in 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 Rebecca, " any one here, who, either 
 for love of a good cause, or for ample hire, will do the 
 errand of a distressed being?" 
 
 All were silent; for none thought it safe, in the pres- 
 ence of the Grand Master, to avow any interest in the 
 calumniated prisoner, lest he should be suspected of leaning 
 toward Judaism. Not even the prospect of reward, far 
 less any feelings of compassion alone, could surmount this 
 apprehension. 
 
 Rebecca 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 Rebecca, "is the disposer of all. He can 
 turn back the captivity of Judah, even by the weakest in- 
 
IVANHOE. 409 
 
 Btrument. 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 Buthan's good 
 capul,* 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 approach- 
 ing more nearlyj discovered that one of them was his 
 ancient employer, Isaac of York. The other was the Eabbi 
 Ben Samuel; and both had approached as near the Pre- 
 ceptory 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 dis- 
 quieted, 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, pur- 
 chase 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 
 
 *Capul, i. e. horse; in a more limited sense, work-horse. 
 
410 IVANHOE. 
 
 upon thee! Hast thou the palsy in thy legs? then let thy 
 hands work for thy livelihood; for albeit thou be'st unfit 
 for a speedy post, or for a careful shepherd, or for the war- 
 fare, or for the service of a hasty master, yet there be oc- 
 cupations — How now, brother?" said he, interrupting his 
 harangue to look toward 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 Eabbi now dismounted in great alarm and hastily 
 applied the remedies which his art suggested for the re- 
 covery 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 sud- 
 denly 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 Rebecca! Why should thy death 
 bring down my gray hairs to the grave, till, in the bitter- 
 ness of my heart, I curse God and die?" 
 
 "Brother," said the Eabbi, 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 Belteshazzar, even when within the den of the 
 lions. She is captive unto those men of Belial, 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; and she must wither in a 
 night like the gourd of Jonah! Child of my love! — child 
 of my old age! — oh, Rebecca, daughter of Rachel! the 
 darkness of the shadow of death hath encompassed thee." 
 
 "Yet read the scroll," said the Rabbi; " perad venture 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: 
 
IVANHOE. 411 
 
 "To Isaac, the son of Adonikam, 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 fathers' 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 hart 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 the_re be any rescue. One Nazarene 
 warrior might, indeed, bear arms in my behalf, even 
 Wilfred, son of Oedric, 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 Eebecca live, or if Kebecca 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 Saracen; for 
 the less cruel are the cruelties of the Moors unto the race 
 of Jacob than the cruelties of the Nazarenesof 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 Eabbi, " 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 
 
412 IVANHOB. 
 
 with counsel or with strength; for the youth hath favor in 
 the eyes of Kichard, called of the Nazarenes Cceur-de-Lion, 
 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 Eabbi, " 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 aiso 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 prom- 
 ise 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 perad venture accept of ounces. 
 Nevertheless, be it as thou wiliest, 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 sev- 
 eral 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 
 
IVANHOE. 413 
 
 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 con- 
 fession, 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 hap, into the bargain? I think I was 
 bewitched in earnest when I was beside the girl! But it 
 was always so with Jew or Gentile, whosoever came near 
 her — none could stay when she had errand to go — and 
 still, whenever I think of her, I would give shop and tools 
 to save her life." 
 
U4 IVANZOE, 
 
 'jHAPTBR XXXIX. 
 
 " O maid, unrelenting and cold as thou art, 
 My bosom is proud as thine own." 
 
 — Sewa/rd. 
 
 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 Rebecca's prison-chamber. It dis- 
 turbed not the inmate, who was then engaged in the even- 
 ing 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 astonish'd lands 
 
 The cloudy pillar glided slow ; 
 By night, Arabia's crimson'd sands 
 
 Return'd the fiery column's glow. 
 
 " Then rose the choral hymn of praise, 
 
 And trump and timbrel answer'd keen, 
 And Zion's daughters pour'd their lays, 
 
 With priest's and warrior's voice between. 
 No potents now our foes amaze, 
 
 Forsaken Israel wanders lone ; 
 Our fathers would not know Thy ways, 
 
 And Thotj hast left them to 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 oh, when stoops on Judah's path 
 In shade and storm the frequent night, 
 Be Thou, long-suffering, slow to wrath, 
 A burning and. a, shining lightl 
 
IVANROR 415 
 
 " Our harps we left by Babel's streams. 
 
 The tyrant's jest, the Gentile's 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, an 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-Guilbert, entering the apart- 
 ment, " friend or foe, Rebecca, as the event of this inter- 
 view 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 furthest 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, Rebecca," 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 Rebecca, 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-Guilbert, 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, Rebecca, 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." 
 
 "Ay," replied the Templar, "the idea of death is easily 
 received by the courageous mind when the road to it is sud- 
 den and open. A thrust with a lance, a stroke with a sword, 
 Were to me little. To you, a spring from a dizzy hattle- 
 
416 IVANEOS. 
 
 ment, a stroke from a sharp poniard, has no terrors com- 
 pared with what either thinks disgrace. Mark me — I say 
 this — perhaps mine own sentiments of honor are not less 
 fantastic, Eebecca, than thine are; but we know alike how 
 to die for them." 
 
 " Unhappy man," said the Jewess; "and art thou con- 
 demned 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 dis- 
 course 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 Rebecca; "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 has exposed me." 
 
 " Think not," said the Templar, " that I have so exposed 
 thee; I would have bucklered thee against such danger with 
 my own bosom, as freely as ever I exposed it to the shaf is 
 which had otherwise reached thy life." 
 
 " Had thy purpose been the honorable protection of the 
 innocent," said Rebecca, " 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, Rebecca," 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, Rebecca," said Bois-Guilbert, " that thou 
 
IVANHOS. 41? 
 
 dost continue to burden me with the charge of distresses 
 which most fain would I have prevented." 
 
 " Sir Knight," said Kebecca, " 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 Templar, 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 xor the present above bis 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 Eebecca, "you sate a judge upon me, in- 
 nocent — most innocent — as you know me to be — you con- 
 curred 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 Rebecca, " 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 course, Sir Knight, deserved, doubt- 
 less, 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 con- 
 viction?" 
 
 " Your words are bitter, Eebecca," said Bois-Guilbert, 
 pacing the apartment with impatience, "but I came not 
 hither to bandy reproaches with you. Know that Bois- 
 Guilbert 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 
 
418 1VANE0B. 
 
 to the ocean. That scroll which warned thee to demand a 
 champion, from whom couldst thou think it came if not 
 from Bois-Giiilbert? in whom else couldst thou have ex- 
 cited such interest?" 
 
 "A brief respite from instant death," said Eebecca, 
 " 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-Guilbert, " this was not all 
 that I purposed. Had it not been for the accursed inter- 
 ference of yon fanatical dotard, and the fool of Goodalricke, 
 who, being a Templar, affects to think and judge accord- 
 ing 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 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 Beaumanoir 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, Kebecca, 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 Eebecca, "is but idle boast- 
 ing — 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 Kebecca; " I understand thee not." 
 
 "Well, then," said Bois-Guilbert, "I will speak as 
 freely as ever did doting penitent to bis ghostly father 
 when placed in the tricky confessional. Kebecca, if I 
 appear not in these lists I lose fame and rank — lose that 
 which is the breath of my nostrils, the esteem, I mean, in 
 which I am held by my brethren, and the hopes I have of 
 
IVANHOB. 419 
 
 succeeding to that mighty authority which is now wielded 
 by the bigoted dotard, Lucas de Beaumanoir, but of which 
 I should make a far different use. Such is my certain 
 doom, except I appear in arms against thy cause. Accursed 
 be he of Goodalricke who baited this trap for me! and 
 doubly accursed Albert de Malvoisin, 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 Re- 
 becca. " 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 toward 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 and 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 van- 
 tage, save Richard Cceur-de-Lion, and his minion of Ivan- 
 hoe. 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 defence." 
 
 " And what avails repeating this so often?" said Rebecca. 
 
 " 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-Guilbert, "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 illus- 
 trious name, which has grown yet more so under my wear- 
 ing, becomes a hissing and a reproach. I lose fame, I lose 
 honor, I lose the prospect of such greatness as scarce em- 
 perors attain to. I sacrifice mighty ambition, I destroy 
 schemes built as high as the mountains with which heath- 
 
420 IVANMOfl. 
 
 ens say their heaven was once nearly sealed — and yet, Re- 
 becca," he added, 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, Bois-Guilbert, I receive thee for my 
 lover." 
 
 " Think not of such foolishness, Sir Knight," answered 
 Rebecca, " 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? Bethink thee, were I a 
 fiend, yet death is a worse, and it is death who is my rival." 
 
 " I weigh not these evils," said Rebecca, afraid to pro- 
 voke the wild knight, yet equally determined neither to en- 
 dure 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 pre- 
 tend, save me from this dreadful death, without seeking a 
 requital which would changr 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 Conrade, 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 con- 
 temn. 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 
 sabers of the thousands and ten thousands of Saracens 
 can hew their way so deep into that land for which nations 
 
IVANBOE. 421 
 
 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, Kebecca — 
 on Mount Carmel shall we pitch the throne which my valor 
 will gain for yon, and I will exchange my long-desired 
 batoon for a scepter!" 
 
 " A dream," said Rebecca; " 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 deliv- 
 erance, 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; Eichard 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, Rebecca, 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 Rebecca, "for the 
 succor of man is well nigh hopeless!" 
 
 " It is, indeed," said the Templar; " for, proud as thou 
 art, thou hast in me found thy match. If I outer the 
 lists with my spear in rest, think not that any human con- 
 sideration 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! Rebecca, it is not in woman to sustain this 
 prospect — thou wilt yield to my suit." 
 
 " Bois-Guilbert," 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 
 Templar, that not in thy fiercest battles hast thou dis- 
 
422 IVANEOM. 
 
 played more of thy vaunted courage, than has been shewn 
 by a 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 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, 
 Eebecca, to be near to thee in life, and to escape the fear- 
 ful share I must have in thy death." 
 
 "Thou hast spoken the Jew," said Eebecca, "as the 
 persecution of such as thou art has made him. Heaven in 
 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. Eead 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 usurers! And know, 
 proud knight, we number names among 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 derive their splendor 
 from no earthly prince, but from the awful Voice which 
 bade their fathers be nearest of the congregation to the 
 Vision. Such were the princes of the House of Jacob." 
 
 Eebecca'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 
 
iTAimoE. . m 
 
 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 Adonikam! Farewell! I 
 envy not the blood-won honors — I envy not thy barbarous 
 descent from northern heathens — I envy 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-Guil- 
 bert. " I almost think yon besotted skeleton spoke truth, 
 and that the reluctance with which I part from thee has 
 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 eye- 
 lids 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 Rebecca, "do men throw on fate the issue 
 of their own wild passions. But I do forgive thee, Bois- 
 Guilbert, 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, Bebecca, as thou hast 
 spoken me, untaught, untamed — and proud that, amidst a 
 shoal of empty fools and crafty bigots, I have attained 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 left the 
 apartment. 
 
424 IVANBOE. 
 
 The Preceptor Albert waited impatiently in an adjacent 
 chamber the return of Bois-Guilbert. 
 
 "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 Conrade, had come hither? 
 I had paid dear for my complaisance. But what ails thee, 
 brother? Thy step totters, thy brow is as black as night. 
 Art thou well, Bois-Guilbert?" 
 
 " Ay," answered the Templar, "as well as the wretch 
 who is doomed to die within an hour. Nay, by the rood, 
 not half so well — for there be those in such state who can 
 lay down life like a cast-off garment. By Heaven, Mal- 
 voisin, 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 mayest 
 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. Beaumanoir 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." 
 
 " 5 Tis false! I will myself take arms in her behalf," an- 
 swered the Templar, haughtily; "and should I do so, I 
 think, Malvoisin, 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 adviser, " thou 
 wilt have neither leisure nor opportunity to execute this 
 mad project. Go to Lucas Beaumanoir, and say thou hast 
 renounced thy vow of obedience and see how long the des- 
 potic old man will leave thee in personal freedom. The 
 words shall scarce have left thy lips ere thou wilt either 
 be an hundred feet under ground in the dungeon of the 
 Preceptory, to abide trial as a recreant knight ; or, if his 
 opinion holds concerning thy possession, thou wilt be en- 
 joying 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-Guilbert, " fly to 
 
IVANHOE. 425 
 
 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 low- 
 ered, and mark what answer thou shalt receive. Thou art 
 surprised and offended ; but is it not the better for thee? 
 Wert 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 compan- 
 ions in arms hide their heads when Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 
 the best lance of the Templarjs, is proclaimed recreant amid 
 the 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 set him hard 
 in Palestine, and well-nigh darkened his renown, has lost 
 fame and honor for a Jewish girl, whom he could not even 
 save by so costly a sacrifice !" 
 
 " Malvoisin," 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-Guilbert. 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-Guilbert, " 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 Malvoisin; " no more than the 
 armed image of St. George when it makes part of a 
 procession." 
 
 " Well, I resume my resolution," replied the haughty 
 Templar. " She has despised me — repulsed me — reviled 
 me. And wherefore should I offer up for her whatever of 
 estimation I have in the opinion of others? Malvoisin, \ 
 will appear in the lists," 
 
426 IVANEOB. 
 
 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-Gnilbert'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 Mont-Fitchet had given him hopes, 
 on condition he would forward the condemnation of the 
 unfortunate Eebecca. 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 
 Malvoisin's art to keep Bois-Guilbert 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 shew that, in 
 appearing as champion on this occasion, Bois-Guilbert, 
 without either accelerating or ensuring the fate of Eebecca, 
 would follow the only course by which he could save him- 
 self from degradation and disgrace. 
 
I7ANH0E, 427 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 *' Shadows avaunt! Richard's himself again." 
 
 — Bichard III. 
 
 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. Botolph, to which the wounded 
 Ivanhoe had been removed when the castle was taken, 
 under the guidance of the faithful Gurth, and the mag- 
 nanimous Wamba. It is unnecessary at present to men- 
 tion what took place in the interim betwixt Wilfred and 
 his deliverer; suffice it to say, that after long and grave 
 communication, messengers were despatched 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 Ooningsburgh, 
 the castle of the deceased Athelstane, since there thy 
 father Cedric holds the funereal feast for his noble relation. 
 I would see your Saxon kindred together, Sir Wilfred, and 
 become better acquainted with them than heretofore. 
 Thou also wilt meet me; and it shall be my task to recon- 
 cile thee to thy father." 
 
 So saying, he took an affectionate farewell of Ivanhoe, 
 who expressed an anxious desire to attend upon his deliv- 
 erer, 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 
 
428 IVANHOB. 
 
 heart. I would fain see the feasting at the funeral of 
 Athelstane; 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 
 blind side, and knows how to keep the lee-gage when his 
 passions are blowing high. But valor is a sturdy fellow 
 that makes all split. He rows 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 Fetterlock, since it is your pleasure 
 so to. be 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 shew- 
 ing 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 till 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 matin-song he requested to have an 
 interview with the Prior. The old man came to him 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 
 wrought a wonderful cure upon it. I feel already as if I 
 could bear my corslet; and so much the better, for thoughts 
 
IVANHOE. 429 
 
 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, ven- 
 erable 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 depart- 
 ure?" 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 
 the 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 weil 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 lam resolved to share or avertthe 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 des- 
 trier.* _ - 
 
 "Surely," said the worthy churchman; "you shall have 
 
 *Destrier— war-horse. 
 
430 IVANHOE. 
 
 mine own ambling jennet, and I would it ambled as easy 
 for your sake as that of the Abbot of St. Albans. Yet this 
 will I say for Malkin, for so I call her, that unless you were 
 to borrow a ride on the juggler's steed that paces a horn- 
 pipe among the eggs, you could not go 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 Gurth attend me 
 with mine arms." 
 
 " Nay, but fair sir," said the Prior, " I pray you to re- 
 member 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. Oh, Malkin, I promise you, 
 is a beast of judgment, and will contend against any undue 
 weight. I did but borrow the Fructus Temporum from 
 the priest of St. Bees, 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 dis- 
 , tress 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 Gurth was buckling on the 
 "knight's heels a pair of large gilded spurs, capable of con- 
 vincing 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 be- 
 think me, my Malkin abideth not the spur. Better it 
 were that you tarry for the mare of our manciple 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 fire-wood, 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. 
 Gurth 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 his wound promised, and threw himself upon the 
 
IVANHOB. 431 
 
 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 recom- 
 mending 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 can- 
 vassing a palfrey's paces with its owner, lent but a deaf ear 
 to the Prior's grave advices and facetious jests, and having 
 leaped on his mare, and commanded his squire (for such 
 Gurth 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 
 rheum, 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 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. Botolph's hobbled back again into 
 the refectory, to preside over the stock-fish and ale which 
 was just serving out for the friars' breakfast. Pursy and 
 important, he sat 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 stock- 
 fish 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 Dig- 
 
432 IVANHOE. 
 
 gory, 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 whiles 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 under part, closed, ^o 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 cham- 
 pion, 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 acci- 
 dents 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 skillful master during the storming of Tor- 
 quilstone. Indeed, the infirmity of Wamba's brain con- 
 sisted 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 horse- 
 back, therefore, he was perpetually swinging himself back- 
 ward and forward, 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, mop- 
 ing, mowing, and making a thousand apish gestures, until 
 his palfrey took his freak? so much to hea.rt as, fairly to lay 
 
IVANBOE. 433 , 
 
 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 a virelai, as it was 
 called, in which the clown bore a mellow burden to the 
 better instructed Knight of the Fetterlock. And thus run 
 the ditty: 
 
 Anna-Marie, love, up is ike 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. 
 
 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 these visions. 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 moral! 
 I used to sing it with Gurth, once my playfellow, and now, 
 by the grace of God and his master, no less than a free- 
 man; 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, 
 
 Ever more sing the roundelay ; 
 To win the widow of Wycombe forth, 
 
 And where was the widow might say them nay? 
 
434 ItANBOE. 
 
 The first was a knight, and from Tynedale he came, 
 
 Ever more 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 rhyme and in roundelay ; 
 
 She bid him go back by his sea-coal fire, 
 For she was the widow would say him nay. 
 
 The next that came forth, swore by blood and by nails, 
 
 Merrily sing the roundelay ; 
 Hur's a gentleman, God wot, and hur's lineage was of Wales, 
 
 And where was the widow might say him nay ? 
 
 Sir David ap Morgan ap Griffiths ap Hugh, 
 
 Ap Tudor ap Bice, quoth his roundelay ; 
 She said that one widow for so many was too 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, 
 
 There for 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 yeoman." 
 
 " 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 mots 
 on this bugle will, 1 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 1 say nothing," said Wamba; "for green 
 
trees have ears as well as stone walls. But canst thou con- 
 strue 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." 
 
 "Yon hold our friends for robbers, then?" said the 
 Knight of the Fetterlock. 
 
 "You hear me not say so, fair sir," said Wamba; "it 
 may relieve a poor man's steed to take off his mail when 
 he hath a long journey to make; and certes, it may do 
 good to the rider's soul to ease him of that which is the 
 root of all evil; therefore will I give no hard names to 
 those who do such services. Only would I wish my mail 
 at home, and my purse in my chamber, when I meet with 
 these good fellows, because it may save them some 
 trouble." 
 
 " We are bound to pray for them, my friend, notwith- 
 standing 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. Bees, 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 Torquilstone." 
 
 " Ay, truly," answered Wamba; " but that was in the 
 fashion of their trade with Heaven." 
 
 " Their trade, Wamba! how mean you by that?" re- 
 plied his companion. 
 
 " Marry, thus," said the jester. " They make up a 
 balanced account with Heaven, as our old cellarer 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 seven-fold 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 usages," answered 
 the knight... ... ,« --,,.i,, , 
 
436 1VANE0E. 
 
 " Why," said Wamba, " an your valor 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 byzants 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, which was the 
 felony?" interrupted the knight. 
 
 " A good gibe! a good gibe!" 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 to go on. 
 The merry men of the forest set off the building of a cot- 
 tage with the burning of a castle — the thatching of a choir 
 against the robbing of a church — the setting free 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 Torquilstone would have a woe- 
 ful 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. 
 
 " Marry, sir, but we have Malvoisin'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 Torquilstone. So that 
 should we meet with a band of them, we are likely 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." 
 
IVANHOE. 437 
 
 "But what if there were four of them?" 
 
 "They should drink of the same cup," answered the 
 knight. 
 
 " What if six," continued Wamha, " 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 rascaille 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 round 
 his own neck. 
 
 " Tra-lira-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 ex- 
 ceedeth thy license. Beware ye tamper 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 an 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," con- 
 tinued 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 com- 
 panions," 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 nine-pins. And now that 
 
438 ITAlmoSi. 
 
 Folly wears the horn, let Valor ronse 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 a 
 morrion from amongst the green leaves. Had they been 
 honest men they had kept the path. .But yonder thickeb 
 is a choice chapel for the Clerks of St. Nicholas." 
 
 "By my faith," said the knight, closing his visor, "I 
 think thou be'st in the right on't." 
 
 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 armorer," 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 agaiust 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, cry- 
 ing, "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 
 
IVANHOE. 439 
 
 whole 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 oak, 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 inter- 
 cepted 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 gray 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 and effectual part in the fray, soon disposed of the 
 ruffians, all 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 the chief 
 of these villains." 
 
 The Jester instantly made up to the leader of the assas- 
 sins, who, bruised by his fall, and entangled under the 
 
440 IVANHOE. 
 
 wounded steed, lay incapable either of flight or resis- 
 tance. 
 
 "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 Bine Knight, which, rolling to a distance on the 
 grass, displayed to the Knight of the Fetterlock grizzled 
 locks, and a countenance he did not expect to have seen 
 under such circumstances. 
 
 " Waldemar Fitzurse!" 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 naught to revenge." 
 
 " My daughter, Richard, whose affiance thou didst 
 scorn — was that no injury to a Norman whose blood is 
 noble as thine own?" 
 
 " Thy daughter?" replied the Black Knight; " a proper 
 cause of emnity, and followed up to 'a bloody issue! 
 Stand back, my masters, I would speak to him alone. 
 And now, Waldemar Fitzurse, 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 Fitzurse, 
 " knows it were needless." 
 
 "Take it, then, unasked," said Richard; "the lion 
 preys not on prostrate carcasses. Take thy life, but with 
 this condition, that in three days thou shalt leave Eng- 
 land, and go to hide thine infamy in thy Norman castle, 
 and that thou wilt never mention the name of John of 
 
IYANHOE. 441 
 
 Anjoii 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 attaint 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 yeomen 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 
 Cceur-de-Lion, the yeomen at once kneeled down before 
 him, and at the same time tendered their allegiance, and . 
 implored pardon for their offenses. 
 
 " Rise, my friend," 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 re- 
 sentment, and whose features retained no mark of the late 
 desperate conflict, excepting the flush arising from exer- 
 tion. "Arise," he said, "my friends! Your misde- 
 meanors, whether in forest or field, have been atoned by 
 the loyal services you rendered my distressed subjects be- 
 fore the walls of Torquilstone, and the rescue you have 
 this day afforded to your sovereign. Arise, my liegemen, 
 and be good subjects in future. And thou, brave Locks- 
 ley " 
 
 "Call me no longer Locksley, my liege, but know me 
 under the name which, I fear, fame hath blown 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 
 
 * From the ballads of Robin Hood we learn that this celebrated 
 outlaw, when in disguise, sometimes assumed the name of Locksley, 
 from a village where he was born, but where situated we are not dis- 
 tinctly told. 
 
442 IVANHOE. 
 
 the king, "who hath not heard a name that has been 
 borne 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 Kichard; "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 
 Polly 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 houghed 
 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 
 doubtlet will. But if I fought not at a 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." 
 
 " Confiteor! Confiteor!" exclaimed, in a submissive 
 tone, a voice near the king's side. " My Latin will carry 
 me no further — but I confess my deadly treason, and pray 
 leave to have absolution before I am led to execution!" 
 
 Kichard 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 month 
 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, 
 
IVANHOE. 443 
 
 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 in penny histories of Robin 
 Hood by the name of Friar Tuck). " It is not the crosier 
 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 ear 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 counterbuff " 
 
 " By no means," replied Friar Tuck, " I had mine own 
 returned, and with usury — may your majesty ever pav 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 hypo- 
 critical 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 Paynimsand misbelievers, 
 I were void of reason to quarrel with the buffet of a Clerk 
 so holy as he of Oopmanhnrst. 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 had beset me. St. Dun- 
 stan — 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 a night, doing I wot 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 
 
444 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 Turk?' says another. ' The unfrocked 
 villain destroys more venison then 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 Copmanhurst, 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 cellarer shall have 
 orders to deliver to thee a butt of sack, a runlet of Mal- 
 voisie, and three hogsheads of ale of the first strike, 
 yearly. If it will not quench thy thirst, thou must come 
 to court and become acquainted with my butler." 
 
 " But for St. Dunstan?" said the friar. 
 
 "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, some- 
 thing sternly; but immediately stretching out his hand to 
 the hermit, the latter, somewhat abashed, bent his knee, 
 and saluted it. " Thou dost lest 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 in too jocose a style — a false 
 
IVANHOE. 445 
 
 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. 
 
446 1VANE0E, 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 " All liail 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 you he." 
 
 — Maedonakl. 
 
 The new-comers were Wilfred of Ivanhoe, on the Prior 
 of Botolph's palfrey, and Gurth, who attended him, ou 
 the knight's own war-horse. The astonishment of Ivan- 
 hoe was beyond bounds, when he saw his master besprinkled 
 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 syl- 
 van 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 toward 
 him. Richard saw his embarrassment. 
 
 " Fear not, Wilfred," he said, " to address Richard Plan- 
 tagenet 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, step- 
 ping 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 armor 
 of my prince?" 
 
 " Treason hath been with us, Ivanhoe," said the king; 
 "but thanks to these brave men, treason hath met its 
 meed. But, now I bethink me, thou too art a traitor," 
 
IVANHOE. 447 
 
 said Richard, smiling; "a most disobedient traitor; for 
 were not our orders positive that thou shouldst repose thy- 
 self at St. Botolph's until thy wound was healed?" 
 
 "It is healed, said Ivanhoe; "it is not of more conse- 
 quence than the scratch of a bodkin. But why, oh, why, 
 noble prince will you thus vex the hearts of your faithful 
 servants, and expose your life to 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 had led to battle a host of a 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 narrowly 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 ex- 
 ample, 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. Estoteville 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 Beauchamp, 
 in Warwickshire; and of Multon and Percy in the north. 
 The Chancellor must make sure of London. Too sudden 
 an appearance would subject me to dangers other than my 
 
448 IVANHOE. 
 
 lance and sword, though backed by the bow of bold Robin, 
 or the quarter-staff 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 
 iu him to have sought out. The young knight sighed, 
 therefore, and held his peace; while Richard, rejoiced at 
 having silenced his counselor, though his heart acknowl- 
 edged 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 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 rendez- 
 vous, the venison shall not be lacking; and a stoup 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 
 Cceur-de-Lion, 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. 
 
IVANHOE. 449 
 
 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 min- 
 strels, 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 
 shewed 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 sylvan repast was hastily 
 prepared for the King of England, surrounded by men out- 
 laws 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. The song 
 and the jest were exchanged — the stories of former deeds 
 were told with advantage; and at length, and while boast- 
 ing 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 
 Bobin 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 circum- 
 stances of his kingdom may render precious." 
 
 " It is well and wisely spoken, brave Bobin 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 yeo- 
 man," said Ivanhoe; " for each hint I have essayed to give 
 him serves only to induce him to prolong it." 
 
450 IVANHOE. 
 
 "Must I so soon risk the pardon and favor of my 
 sovereign?" said Robin Hood, pausing for an instant; 
 " but, by St. Christopher, it shall be so. I were unde- 
 serving his grace did I not peril it for his good. Here, 
 Scathlock, 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." 
 
 Scathlock obeyed his captain, and in less than five min- 
 utes the revelers were startled by the sound of his horn. 
 
 " It is the bugle of Malvoisin," said the miller, starting 
 to his feet, and seizing his 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 change readily 
 from the banquet to the battle; and to Richard the ex- 
 change 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 Gurth 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 ofE several of his 
 followers in different directions, as if to reconnoiter 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 im- 
 patiently. "Have we not already granted thee a full 
 pardon for all transgressions? Thinkest thou our word is a 
 feather, to be blown backward and forward between us? 
 Thou canst not have had time to commit any new offense 
 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 Malvoisin'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." 
 
IVANSoW. 451 
 
 fie then rose from his knee, folded his arms 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 counte- 
 nance of Eichard; 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 welh 
 bold Eobin! but when you come to see me in merry 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 
 Eobiii, 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 Eobin, " 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 masters service." 
 
 "Thou art right, good yeoman," answered Eichard; 
 "and if I had Ivanhoe, on the one hand, to give grave 
 advice and recommend it 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 Heathenesse. But 
 come, sirs, let us merrily on to Ooningsburgh, and think 
 no more on't. 
 
 Eobin Hood assured them that he had despatched a party 
 in the direction of the road they were to pass, who would 
 not fail to discover and apprise them of any secret ambus- 
 cade; and that he had little doubt they would find the way 
 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 Bichard's feelings, and removed any slight grudge 
 which he might retain on account of the deception the 
 
452 IVANSoE. 
 
 outlaw captain had practiced upon him. He once more 
 extended his hand to Kobin 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 toward 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, at- 
 tended by Ivanhoe, Gurth and Wamba, arrived, without 
 any interruption, within view of the Castle of Conings- 
 burgh while the sun was yet in the horizon. 
 
 There are few more beautiful or striking scenes in Eng- 
 land than are presented by the vicinity of this ancient 
 Saxon fortress. The soft and gentle river Don sweeps 
 through an amphitheater, 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 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 toward 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 
 
IVANHOE. 453 
 
 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 church-yard.* 
 
 When Coeur-de-Lion and his retinue approached this 
 rude yet stately building, it was not, as at present, sur- 
 rounded by external fortifications. The Saxon architect 
 had exhausted his art in rendering the main keep defensi- 
 ble, 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 obsequies 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 funereal banquets were times of general and pro- 
 fuse hospitality, which not only every one who could claim 
 the most distant connection with the deceased, but all pas- 
 sengers whatsoever, were invited to partake. The wealth 
 and consequence of the deceased Atbelstane 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 abroach, 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 
 
 * See Note L. Castle of Coningsburgli. 
 
454 1VANB0B. 
 
 and drunkenness — the more pampered burgess and guild 
 brother was eating his morsel with gust, or curiously crit- 
 icising the quality 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 condescend- 
 ing to avail themselves of the good cheer which was so lib- 
 erally supplied. 
 
 Mendicants were, of course, assembled by the score, 
 together with strolling soldiers returned from Palestine 
 (according to their own account, at least), pedlars 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 mistimed 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 ances- 
 try. Jesters and jugglers were not 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 sad- 
 dened the heart, here were the 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 at Coningsburgh 
 when it was entered by Eichard 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 
 
 * Tlie crowtli, or crowd, was a species of violin. The rote, a 
 sort of guitar, or rather hurdy-gurdy, the strings of which were 
 managed by a wheel from which the instrument took its name. 
 
IVAmiOM. 455 
 
 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. Gnrth and Wamba speedily found acquaintances 
 in the court yard, nor presumed to intrude themselves any 
 further until their presence should be required. 
 
456 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 " 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 Coningsburgh 
 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 com- 
 municated by a ladder. The access to the upper apart- 
 ments 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, gained 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 the signal. 
 
 There were assemhled in this apartment, around a large 
 oaken table, about a dozen of the most distinguished repre- 
 sentatives of the Saxon families in the adjacent counties. 
 These were all old, or, at least, elderly men; for the 
 vounger race, to the great displeasure of the seniors, had, 
 like Ivanhoe, broken down many of the barriers which 
 
IVANHOE. 457 
 
 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 pos- 
 ture, formed a strong contrast to the levity of the revelers 
 on the outside of the castle. Their gray locks and long 
 full beards, together with their antique tunics and loose 
 black mantles, suited well with the singular and rude apart- 
 ment in which they were seated, and gave the appearance 
 of a band of ancient worshipers of Woden, 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 Kichard (only known to 
 him as the valorous Knight of the Fetterlock) he arose 
 gravely, and gave him welcome by the ordinary salutation, 
 Waes hael, raising at the same time a goblet to his head. 
 The King, no stranger to the customs of his English sub- 
 jects, returned the greeting with the appropriate words, 
 Drinc hael, 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 Kichard, 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 very narrow loop-hole, the place 
 would have been nearly quite dark but for two flambeaux, 
 or torches, which shewed, 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 
 this 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. Edmund's by the mother of the 
 deceased; and, that it might be fully deserved, the whole 
 brethren, saving the lame Sacristan, had transferred them- 
 selves to Coningsburgh, where, while six of their number 
 were constantly on guard in the performance of divine 
 rights by the bier of Athelstane, the others failed not to 
 
458 IVANHOW. 
 
 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 Zerne- 
 bock, the ancient Saxon Apollyon, should lay his clutches 
 on the departed Athelstane. TSTor were they less careful to 
 prevent any unhallowed laymen 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 soul-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 Athelstane, they 
 followed his example in devoutly crossing themselves, and 
 muttering a prayer for the weal of the departed soul. 
 
 This act of pious charity performed, Cedric again 
 motioned them to foHow 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 thick- 
 ness of the wall; and the loop-hole which enlightened it 
 being to the west, and widening considerably as it sloped 
 inward, a beam of the setting sun found it way into its 
 dark recess, and shewed a female of a dignified mien, and 
 whose countenance retained the marked remains of 
 majestic beauty. Her long mourning robes, and her 
 flowing wimple of black cypress, enhanced the whiteness 
 of her skin, and the beauty of her light-colored and flow- 
 ing 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, 
 
IVAN1I0E. 459 
 
 "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 thauks," returned the lady; 
 "although it be the will of Heaven that it should be dis- 
 played 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 kins- 
 man, I trust them, satisfied that they will want no hos- 
 pitality which these sad walls can yet afford." 
 
 The guests bowed deeply to the mourning parent, and 
 withdrew with 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 unto dust, 
 To this all must ; 
 The tenant hath resign'd 
 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 helow. 
 
 " In that sad place, 
 By Mary's grace, 
 Brief may thy dwelling be 1 
 Till prayers and alms, 
 And holy psalms, 
 Shall set the captive free." 
 
460 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 Athelstane, 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 endeavoringtofind 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 whisper- 
 ing. Kowena alone, too proud to be vain, paid her greet- 
 ing to her deliverer with a graceful courtesy. Her de- 
 meanor was serious but not dejected; and it may be 
 doubted whether thoughts of Ivanhoe, and of the un- 
 certainty of his fate, did not claim as great a share in 
 her gravity as the death of her kinsman. 
 
 To Ced no,- 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 explana- 
 tion, " She was the affianced bride of the noble Athel- 
 stane." It may be doubted whether this communication 
 went a far way to increase Wilfred's disposition to sympa- 
 thize with the mourners of Coningsbnrgh. 
 
 Having thus formally introduced the guests to the differ- 
 ent chambers in which the obsequies of Athelstane 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 accommo- 
 dation, and was about to withdraw when the Black Knight 
 took his hand. 
 
 " I crave to remind you, noble thane," he said, " that 
 
IVANHOE. 461 
 
 when we last parted, you promised, for the service I had 
 the fortune to render you, to grant me a boon." 
 
 " It is granted ere 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 Athelstane, 
 we should deposit therein certain prejudices and hasty 
 opinions." 
 
 " Sir Knight of the Fetterlock," said Cedric, coloring, 
 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, "un- 
 less 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 
 Fetterlock. Know me now as Richard Plantagenet." 
 
 "Richard of Anjoii!" exclaimed Cedric, stepping back- 
 ward 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 
 knee 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 my 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 descent from Matilda, 
 niece to Edgar Atheling, and daughter to Malcolm of 
 Scotland. But Matilda, though of the royal Saxon blood, 
 was not 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 o'er the last scion of Saxon roy- 
 
462 IVANHOE. 
 
 alty?" His countenance darkened as he spoke. "It was 
 boldly— ifc was rashly done!" 
 
 "Not so, by the holy rood!" replied the king; "it was 
 done in the frank confidence which one brave man may re- 
 pose 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, man- 
 sworn, and nidering,* to forgive and receive to thy pater- 
 nal affection the good knight, Wilfred of Ivanhoe. In this 
 reconciliation thou wilt own I have an iuterest — the happi- 
 ness of my friend and the quelling of dissention 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 Hereward 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 shew himself of English ancestry. Thou art 
 about to speak," he added, sternly, " and I guess the topic. 
 The Lady Eowena 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 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 dis- 
 honor to his memory." 
 
 It seemed as if Cedric's words had raised a specter; for 
 scarce had he uttered them ere the door- flew open, and 
 Athelstane, arrayed in the garments of the grave, stood 
 
 * lufamous. 
 
IVANEOE 463 
 
 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 Benedicite, and swore, Mort de ma vie ! 
 
 In the meantime a horrible noise was heard below stairs, 
 some crying, "Secure the treacherous monks!" "Down 
 with them into the dungeon!" others, " Pitch them from 
 the highest battlements!" 
 
 "In the name of God!" said Cedric, addressing what 
 seemed the specter of his departed friend, "if thou art 
 mortal, speak! if a departed spirit, say for what cause 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 specter, 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, Fltther Cedric! By Heaven, 
 and all saints in it, better food hath not passed my weazand 
 for three livelong daj's, and by God's providence it is that 
 I am now here to tell it." 
 
 "Why, noble Athelstane," said the Black Knight, "I 
 myself saw you struck down by the fierce Templar toward 
 the end of the storm at Torquilstone, and as I thought, 
 and Wamba reported, your skull was cloven through the 
 teeth." 
 
 "You thought amiss, Sir Knight," said Athelstane, 
 "and Wamba lied. My teeth are in good order, and that 
 
 * The resuscitation of Athelstane has been much criticised, as 
 too violent a breach of probability, even for a work of such fantastic 
 character. It was a tour-de-force, to which the author was obliged 
 to have recourse, by the vehement entreaties of his friend and 
 printer, who was inconsolable on the Saxon being conveyed to the 
 tomb, 
 
464 IVANHOE. 
 
 ray 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 heirs they had pro- 
 posed 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 oubliette, as I suppose, of 
 their accursed convent, and from the close, stifled, damp 
 smell, I conceive it is also used for a place of sepulchre. I 
 had strange thoughts of what had befallen, 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 pursy, 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 Athelstane," said the king, 
 " take breath — tell your story at leisure — beshrew me but 
 such a tale is as well worth listening to as a romance." 
 
 "Ay, but, by the rod of Bromeholm, there was no 
 romance in the matter!" said Athelstane. "A barley loaf 
 and a pitcher of water — that they gave me, the niggardly 
 traitors, whom my father and myself had enriched, when 
 their best resources were the flitches of bacon and measures 
 of corn out of which they wheedled poor serfs and bonds- 
 men, in exchange for their prayers — the nest of foul, un- 
 grateful vipers — barley bread and ditch water to such a. 
 
IVANMOB. 465 
 
 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 Athelstane," said 
 Cedric, grasping the hand of his friend, " how didst thou 
 escape this imminent danger? — did their hearts relent?" 
 
 "Did their hearts relent!" echoed Athelstane. "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, sum- 
 moned the swarm out of the hive. I heard them droning 
 out their death-psalms, 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 gouty Sacristan was even too busy with his 
 own provender to mind mine. At length, down he came, 
 with an unstable step, and a strong flavor 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 totty to dis- 
 charge 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 Athelstane," said Eichard, "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, 
 
466 IVaNBOS. 
 
 crowding the staircase, caught up an erroneous edition of 
 the story, and transmitted it still more inaccurately to 
 those beneath, who again set it forth to the vulgar without, 
 in a fashion totally irreconcilable to the real fact. Athel- 
 staue, 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 round- 
 elay, to the apartment where the worthy Sacristan, an it 
 so please ye, was holding a devil's mass with a huge, beetle- 
 browed, broad-shouldered brother of the gray frock and 
 cowl, who looked much more like a thief than a clergyman. 
 I burst 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 Kichard, looking at Ivanhoe. 
 
 "He maybe the devil and he will," said Athelstane. 
 " Fortunately he missed the aim; and on my approach 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 among others at the sexton's belt; 
 and I had thoughts of beating out the knave's brains with 
 the bunch of keys, but gratitude for the nook of pasty and 
 the flask of wine which the rascal had imparted to my cap- 
 tivity 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 Abbot's particular 
 use. Hither I came with all the speed the beast could com- 
 pass — man and mother's son flying before me wherever I 
 came, taking me for a specter, 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 
 
IVANE6E. 46? 
 
 who is making the people in the castle-yard very merry, 
 considering they are assembled to celebrate their lord's 
 funeral. I say the sewer thought I was dressed to bear a 
 part in the tregetour'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 Athel- 
 stane; "it is well I am delivered myself. I am more 
 intent on punishing that villain Abbot. He shall hang on 
 the top of this castle of Coningsburgh, in his cope and 
 stole; and if the stairs be too straight to admit his fat car- 
 cass, I will have him craned up from without." 
 
 " But, my son," said Edith, "consider his sacred office." 
 
 " Consider my three day's fast," replied Athelstane; "I 
 will have their blood every one of them. Front-de-Bceuf 
 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 Athelstane; 
 " they die, and no more of them. Were they the best 
 monks upon earth, the world would go on without them." 
 
 "For shame, noble Athelstane," said Cedric; "forget 
 such wretches in the career of glory which lies open before 
 thee. Tell this Norman prince, Richard of Anjoii, that, 
 lion-hearted as he is, he shall not hold undisputed the 
 throne of Alfred while a male descendant of the holy Con- 
 fessor lives to dispute it." 
 
 "How!" said Athelstane, "is this the noble King 
 Eichard?" 
 
 "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-iny iMthl" said Athelstane; "and my duty as a 
 
468 IVAN BOB. 
 
 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 Athelstane, "a truce to your 
 upbraidings — bread and water and a dungeon are marvel- 
 ous 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, indigestion, 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, Eowena," said Cedric, " I trust you 
 intend not to desert her?" 
 
 "Father Cedric," said Athelstane, "be reasonable. 
 The Lady Eowena 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, 
 Eowena, for grave-clothes and a thin visage are, God knows, 
 no matter of merriment. Nay, an thou wilt needs laugh, 
 I will find thee a better jest. Give me thy hand, or rather 
 lend it to 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 there but 
 even now." 
 
 All now looked round 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 Gurth and his armor, and had left the castle. 
 
 "Fair cousin," said Athelstane to Eowena, "could I 
 think that this sudden disappearance of Ivanhoe was 
 occasioned by other than the weightiest reason, I would 
 myself resume " 
 
IVANHOE. 469 
 
 But he had no sooner let go her hand, on first observing 
 that Ivanhoe had disappeared, than Eowena, 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 per- 
 haps 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 court-yard, 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 
 Zernebock 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 banquet-hall, lest any more of us disappear — it is, I 
 trust, as yet tolerably furnished, as becomes the obsequies 
 of an ancient Saxon noble; and should we tarry any longer, 
 who knows but the devil may fly off with the supper?" 
 
4^6 IVANHOM. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 " Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom, 
 That they may break his foaming courser's back, 
 And throw the rider headlong in the lists, 
 A caitiff 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 rural 
 feast. But the earnest desire to look ou 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 ©f 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 con- 
 siderable hazard to themselves, immense crowds of spec- 
 tators, 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 dung- 
 hills. 
 
 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 be- 
 longing to that establishment. This enclosure was formed 
 on a piece of level ground adjoining to the Preceptory, 
 which had been leveled with care, for the exercise of mili- 
 tary 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 amply supplied with 
 galleries and benches for their use. 
 
IVANHOB. 471 
 
 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 this floated the sacred standard, called Le Beau-seant, 
 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 fagots, 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 
 the purpose. Beside this deadly apparatus 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 aud 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 whis- 
 pered to each other, and communicated all the feats which 
 Satan had performed duriDg that busy and unhappyperiod, 
 not failing, of course, to give the devil rather more than 
 his due. 
 
 "Have you not heard, Father Dennet," quoth one boor 
 to another advanced in years, " that the devil has carried 
 away bodily the great Saxon thane, Athelstane of Conings- 
 burgh?" 
 
 " Ay, but he brought him back through, by the blessing 
 of God and St. Dunstan." 
 
 "How's that?" said 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 broidered 
 
472 IVANHOR 
 
 doublet, he wore around his neck a silver chain, by which 
 hung the wrest, or key, with which he tuned his harp. 
 On his right arm was a silver plate, which, instead of bear- 
 ing, 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'r 
 Lady, I were glad to find two." 
 
 "It is well avouched," said the elder peasant, "that 
 after Athelstane of Coningsburgh 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, more- 
 over, there was a rich death-meal aud dole at the Castle 
 of Coningsburgh, as right was; and thither had I gone, 
 but for Mabel Parkins, who " 
 
 7 Ay, dead was A.thelstane," 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." 
 
 "An please your reverence," said Dennet, "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 of him. Be mannerly, my friend, and conclude the 
 holy man only wrapt in meditation, which makes the head 
 dizzy and feet unsteady as if the stomach were filled with 
 new wine — I have felt it myself." 
 
 " Well, then," answered Father Dennet, " a holy brother 
 came to visit the Sacristan at St. Edmund's — a sort of 
 
IVANHOE. 473 
 
 hedge-priest is the visitor, and kills half the deer that are 
 stolen in the forest, who loves the tinkling of a pint pot 
 better than the sacring bell, and deems a flitch of bacon 
 worth ten of his breviary; for the rest, a good fellow and 
 a merry, who will flourish a quarter- staff, draw a bow, and 
 dance a Cheshire round with e'er a man in Yorkshire." 
 
 " That last part of thy speech, Dennet," said the min- 
 strel, " has saved thee a rib or twain." 
 
 " Tush man, I fear him not," said Dennet; " I am 
 somewhat old and stiff, but when I fought for the bell and 
 ram at Doncaster " 
 
 " But the story — the story, my friend," 7 again said the 
 minstrel. 
 
 " Why, the tale is but this — Athelstane of Ooningsburgh 
 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 Ooningsburgh." 
 
 "Nay, then, e'en tell the story yourself, my masters," 
 said Dennet, turning sulky at these repeated contradic- 
 tions; and it was with some difficulty that the boor 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 hare, I 
 find." 
 
 " I tell thee, Allan-a-Dale," said the hermit, " I saw 
 Athelstane of Ooningsburgh as much as bodily eyes ever 
 saw a living man. He had his shroud on, and all about 
 him smelt of the sepulcher. A butt of sack will not wash 
 it out of my memory." 
 
 " Pshaw f" answered the minstrel; "thou dost but jest 
 with me!" 
 
 " Never believe me," said the friar, "an I fetched not a 
 knock at him with my quarter-staff that would have felled 
 
474 IVANHOE. 
 
 an ox, and it glided through his body as it might through 
 a pillar of smoke!" 
 
 " By St. Hubert," said the minstrel, " but it is a won- 
 drous tale, and fit to be put in meter 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 ear 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 draw-bridge 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 the simplest kind. Behind him came Brian de Bois- 
 Guilbert, armed cap-a-pie 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 barret-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 Oonrade of Mont-Fitchet, and 
 Albert de Malvoisin, who acted as godfathers to the 
 
I7ANE0E. 475 
 
 champion. They were in their robes of peace, the white 
 dress of the Order. Behind them followed other Com- 
 panions 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 wardens on foot, in the same sable livery, amid 
 whose partisans might be seen the pale form of the ac- 
 cused, moving with a slow but undismayed step toward 
 the scene of her fate. She was stripped of all her orna- 
 ments, 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 of her Oriental 
 garments; yet there was such an exquisite mixture of cour- 
 age 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 Pre- 
 ceptory 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 Grand Master and 
 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 at- 
 tendance for that purpose. 
 
 The unfortunate Rebecca was conducted to the black 
 chair placed near the pile. On her first glance at the ter- 
 rible 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 in- 
 ternally, 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. 
 
476 IVANHOB. 
 
 Meanwhile the Grand Master had assumed his seat; and 
 when the chivalry of his order was placed around aud be- 
 hind him each iu his due rank, a lond and long nourish 
 of the trumpets announced that the Court was 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. 
 
 "Valorous Lord, and reverend Father," said he, "here 
 standeth the good knight, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 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 Re- 
 becca, 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 stand- 
 eth, 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 ju.t and honorable? Bring forward the 
 crucifix and the Te igitur." 
 
 " Sir and most reverend Father," answered Malvoisin, 
 readily, " our brother here present hath already sworn to 
 the truth of his accusation in the hand of the good Knight 
 Conrade de Mout-Fitchet; 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-Guil- 
 bert to take such an oath before the assembly, aud had 
 invented this excuse to escape the necessity of his doing so. 
 
 The Grand Master, having allowed the apology of Albert 
 Malvoisin, commanded the herald to stand forth and do 
 his devoir. The trumpets then again flourished, and a 
 herald, stepping forward, proclaimed aloud, " Oyez, oyez, 
 oyez. Here standeth the good knight, Sir Brian de Bois- 
 Guilbert, ready to do battle with any knight of free blood, 
 who will sustain the quarrel allowed and allotted to the 
 Jewess Rebecca, to try by champion, in respect of lawful 
 essoine of her own bodyj and to such champion, the rev- 
 
IVANHOB. 477 
 
 erend 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, herald, and ask her whether she expects any 
 one to do battle for her in this her cause." The herald 
 went to the chair in which Rebecca was seated, and Bois- 
 Guilbert suddenly turning hia horse's head toward that 
 and of the lists, in spite of hints on either side from Mal- 
 voisin and Mont-Pitchet, was by the side of Rebecca's 
 , chair as soon as the herald. 
 
 " Is this regular, and according to the law of combat?"' 
 said Maivoisin, looking to the Grand Master. 
 
 "Albert de Maivoisin, 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 Rebecca in these 
 terms: "Damsel, the honorable and reverend the Grand 
 Master demands of thee, if thou art prepared with a cham- 
 pion 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 Rebecca, " that I 
 maintain my innocence, and do not yield me as justly con- 
 demned, 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 passed, may His holy will be done!" The herald retired 
 to carry this answer to the Grand Master. 
 
 " God forbid," said Lucas Beaumanoir, " that Jew or 
 Pagan should impeach us of injustice! 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 passed, 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 toward Heaven, seemed 
 to expect that aid from above which she could scarce 
 promise herself from man. During this awful pause the 
 
4?8 IVANEOE. 
 
 voice of Bois-Guilbert 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. 
 
 "Ay, 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 fagots — I know their purpose, 
 and yet it appears to me like something unreal — the fear- 
 ful picture of a vision, which appals my sense with hid- 
 eous fantasies, but convinces not my reason." 
 
 "My mind and senses keep touch and time," answered 
 Rebecca, " and tell me alike that these fagots are destined 
 to consume my earthly body, and open a painful but brief 
 passage to a better world." 
 
 "Dreams, Rebecca, dreams," answered the Templar; 
 " idle visions, rejected by the wisdom of your own Sadducees. 
 Hear me, Rebecca," he said, proceeding with animation; 
 "a better chance hast thou for life and liberty than yonder 
 knaves and dotards 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 
 Bois-Guilbert from their lists of monastic slaves! I will 
 wash out with blood whatever blot they may dare to cast 
 on my scutcheon." 
 
 " Tempter," said Rebecca, "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 de- 
 manded of Bois-Guilbert; "or is she resolute in her 
 denial?" 
 
IVANHOE 479 
 
 " She is indeed resolute," said Bois-Guilbert. 
 
 " 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- 
 Guilbert — 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 
 Mont-Fitchet, " were it well directed — but, like the Greek 
 fire, it burns whatever approaches it." 
 
 The judges had now been two hours in the lists, await- 
 ing in vaiu the appearance of a champion. 
 
 "And reason good," said the Friar Tuck, "seeing she 
 is a Jewish — and yet, by mine Order, it is hard that so 
 young and beautiful a creature should perish without one 
 blow being struck in her behalf ! Were she ten times a 
 witch, provided she were but the least bit of a Christian, 
 my quarter-staff 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 Malvoisin, whispered to each other 
 that it was time to declare the pledge of Rebecca forfeited. 
 At this instant a knight, urging his horse to speed, 
 appeared on the plain advancing toward 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 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, 
 
480 IVANHOE. 
 
 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, Eebecca, daughter of Isaac 
 of York; to uphold the doom pronounced against her to 
 be false and truthless, and to defy Sir Brian de Bois-Guil- 
 bert 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 Monseigneur St. George, the good 
 knight." 
 
 " The stranger must first shew," 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 Ivauhoe." 
 
 "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 for- 
 gotten that twice didst thou fall before this lance! 
 Bemember the lists at Acre — remember the Passage of 
 Arms at Ashby — remember thy proud vaunt in the halls of 
 Rotherwood, and the gage of your gold chain against my 
 reliquary, that thou wouldst do battle with Wilfred of 
 Ivauhoe, and recover the honor thou hast lost! By that 
 reliquary, and the holy relic it contains, I will proclaim 
 thee, Templar, a coward in every court in Europe — in 
 every Preceptory of thine Order — unless thou do battle 
 without further delay." 
 
 Bois-Guilbert turned his countenance irresolutely toward 
 Eebecca, and then exclaimed, looking fiercely at Ivanhoe, 
 " Dog of a Saxon! take thy lance and prepare for the death 
 thou has 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." 
 
IVANHOE. 461 
 
 "Thus — thus as I am, and not otherwise," said Ivanhoe; 
 "it is the judgment of God; to his keeping I commend 
 myself. Rebecca," 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. Bois-Guilbert did the same; 
 and his esquire remarked, as he clasped his visor, that his 
 face, which had, notwithstanding the variety of motions by 
 which he had been agitated, continued during the whole 
 morning of an ashy 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, 
 preux 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 gage of battle, 
 Rebecca's glove, now threw it into the lists, and pronounced 
 the fatal signal words, " Laissez oiler." 
 
 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 had 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-Guilbert, 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-Guilbert re- 
 turned him no answer, 
 
 " Slay him not, Sir Knight," cried the Grand Master, 
 "unshriven and unabsolved — kill not body and soul! We 
 allow him vanquished!" 
 
485 IVaNHOIS. 
 
 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 upward — "Fiat voluntas tua!" 
 
ItAmofi. 4s8 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 *' So I now 'tis ended, like an old wife's story." 
 
 — Webster. 
 
 When the first moments of surprise were over, Wilfred 
 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 guilt- 
 less — 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 obsequies 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 horse's feet, advanc- 
 ing 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-Guilbert 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 his 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 knightly. But we 
 must waste no time. Bohun, do thine office!" 
 
 A knight stepped forward from the king's attendants, 
 
484 IVANHOK 
 
 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 Malvoisin," said the king, raising his 
 visor, " by the order of Richard Plantagenet, here present. 
 Conrade Mont-Eitchet, it is well for thee thou art born no 
 subject of mine. But for thee Malvoisin, 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, Beau- 
 manoir, 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 Templar; "never! — Chaplains, raise the Psalm 
 Quare fremuerunt Gentes? Knights, squires and follow- 
 ers of the Holy Temple, prepare to follow the banner of 
 Beau-seant !" 
 
 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 the watch-dog, when 
 they hear the baying of the wolf. But they evinced not 
 the timidity of the scared flock — there were dark brows of 
 
TVANBOE. 485 
 
 defiance, and looks which menaced the hostility they dared 
 not to proffer in words. They drew together in a dark line 
 of spars, 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 unwarily 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 backward and forward 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 Eichard? 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 trum- 
 pets 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 Rich- 
 ard, "it is pity of their lives that these Templars are not 
 so trusty as they are disciplined and valiant." 
 
48tf 1VANB0E. 
 
 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, Rebecca 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 Rebecca, " 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 cap- 
 tivity; and thou, too, the daughter of a people strange unto 
 him and his — this is service to be thankfully acknowl- 
 edged." 
 
 " It is — it is — most thankfully — most devoutly acknowl- 
 edged," said Rebecca: " it shall 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 Rebecca! Let us hence! 
 Money he will lack, for he has just returned from Pales- 
 tine, and, as they say, from prison — and pretext for exact- 
 ing 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 
 Kichard with the Lion's Heart, and down with the usurp- 
 ing Templars!" 
 
 " Notwithstanding all this lip-loyalty," said Ivanhoe to 
 the Earl of Essex, " it was well the king took the pre- 
 caution 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 toward 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 accom- 
 panied him with my band, almost mangre 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 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 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 specially careless of 
 their own welfare, are seldom remarkably attentive to that 
 of others. But let us haste to the castle, for Richard med- 
 itates punishing some of the subordinate members of the 
 conspiracy, though he has pardoned their principal. 
 
488 1VANS0K 
 
 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 the 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 Fitzurse, 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 they had 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 
 tush'd and pshaw'd 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 Saxon 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 his personal 
 good qualities and military fame, although his administra- 
 tion was wilfully careless, now too indulgent, and now 
 allied to despotism. 
 
 But, moreover, it could not escape even Cedric's reluct- 
 ant observation, that his project for an absolute union 
 among the Saxons, by the marriage of Rowena and Athel- 
 stane, was now completely at an end, by the mutual dis- 
 sent of both parties concerned. This was, indeed, an 
 event which, in his ardor 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 nec- 
 essary for the public weal of the nation. But it was not 
 the less certain: Rowena had always expressed her repug- 
 nance to Athelstane, and now Athelstane was no less plain 
 and positive in proclaiming his resolution never to pursue 
 his addresses to the Lady Rowena. Even the natural obsti- 
 
IVANHOE. 489 
 
 nacy of Cedric sunk beneath these obstacles, where he, 
 remaining on the point of junction, had the task of drag- 
 ging a reluctant pair up to it, one with each hand. lie 
 made, however, a last vigorous attack on Athelstane, and 
 v 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 menances against the 
 Abbot of St. Edmund's, Athelstane's spirit of revenge, 
 what between the natural indolent kindness of his own 
 disposition, what through the prayers of his mother Edith, 
 attended like most ladies (of the period) to the clerical 
 order, had terminated in his keeping the Abbot and his 
 monks in the dungeons of Coningsbnrgh for three days on 
 a meager 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, iu consequence of the tyrannical and un- 
 just imprisonment they had sustained. With this contro- 
 versy, and with the means he had adopted to counteract 
 this clerical persecution, Cedric found the mind of his 
 friend Athelstane so fully occupied that it had no room 
 for another idea. And when Kowena's name was men- 
 tioned, the noble Athelstane 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, there- 
 fore. There was obviously no more to be made of Athel- 
 stane; 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 between 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 endear- 
 ments of his ward, and the pride which he could not help 
 nourishing iu 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 un- 
 dermined, first, by consideration of the impossibility of 
 ridding England of the new dynasty, a feeling which goes 
 
490 IVANHOE. 
 
 far to create loyalty in the subject to the king de facto; 
 and, secondly, by the personal attention of King Eichard, 
 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 Eowena 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 Minster 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 Eome knows how to apply with such brilliant effect. 
 
 Gurth, gallantly appareled, 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 completed mingled that the distinction has 
 become wholly invisible. Cedric lived to see this union 
 approximate toward 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 Eowena was made acquainted by her hand- 
 maid Elgitha that a, da,w§el desired admission to hej 
 
IVANHOE. 491 
 
 presence, and solicited that their parley might he without 
 witness. Kowena 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. 
 Eowena 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; but the 
 stranger looked at Elgitha, and again intimated a wish to 
 discourse with the Lady Eowena alone. Elgitha 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 Eowena'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 to you, Lady of Ivanhoe," said Eebecca, rising 
 np and resuming the usual quiet dignity of her manner, "1 
 may lawfully, and without rebuke, pay the debt of grati- 
 tude which I owe to Wilfred 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 Eowena, " Wilfred of Ivanhoe on that 
 day rendered back but in slight measure your.unceasing 
 charity toward him in his wounds and misfortunes. 
 Speak, is there aught remains in which he or I can serve 
 thee?" 
 
 "Nothing," said Eebecca, calmly, "unless you will 
 transmit to him my grateful farewell." 
 
 "You leave England, then?" said Eowena, scarce 
 recovering the surprise of this extraordinary visit. 
 
 "I leave it, lady, ere this moon again changes. My 
 father hath a brother high in favor with Mohammed 
 Boabdil, King of Grenada, — thither we go, secure of peace 
 and protection, for the payment of such ra.nsom as the 
 Moslem exact from our people." 
 
492 I7ANH0E. 
 
 "And are you not then as well protected in England?" 
 said Eowena. " My husband has favor with the king — the 
 king himself is just and generous." 
 
 " Lady," said Eebecca, " 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 over-labored drudge, which stoops 
 between two burdens. Not in a land of war and blood, 
 surrounded by hostile neighbors, and distracted by internal 
 factions, can Israel hope to rest during her wanderings." 
 
 "But you, maiden," said Kowena — "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 Eebecca, " 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, 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 
 Eowena; " but, expecting the same from my visitant, I 
 remove the veil." 
 
 She took it off accordingly; and partly from the con- 
 sciousness of beauty, partly from bashfulness, she blushed 
 so intensely that cheek, brow, neck and bosom were 
 suffused with crimson. Eebecca blushed also, but it was a 
 momentary feeling; and, mastered by higher emotions, 
 passed slowly from her features like the 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 re- 
 member your features, and bless God that I leave my noble 
 deliverer united with " 
 
IVANHOE. 493 
 
 She stopped short — her eyes filled with tears. She hastily 
 wiped them, and answered to the anxious inquiries of Row- 
 ena: " I am well, lady — well. But my heart swells when I 
 think of Torquilstone and the lists of Templestowe. Fare- 
 well. One, the most trifling part of my duty, remains 
 undischarged. Accept this casket — startle not at its 
 contents." 
 
 Eowena opened the small silver-chased casket, and per- 
 ceived 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 deem 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 Eowena, struck with 
 the manner in which Rebecca uttered the last words. "Oh, 
 remain with us — the counsel of holy men will wean you 
 from your erring law, and I will be a sister to you." 
 
 "No lady," answered Eebecca, 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 downward, have been women 
 who have devoted their thoughts to Heaven, and their 
 actions to works of kindness to men, tending the sick, feed- 
 ing the hungry, and relieving the distressed. Among these 
 will Rebecca be numbered. Say this to thy lord, should 
 
494 IVANHOE. 
 
 he chance to inquire after the fate of her whose life he 
 saved." 
 
 There was an involuntary tremor in Eebecca's voice, and 
 a tenderness of accent, which, perhaps, betrayed more than 
 she would willingly have expressed. She hastened to bid 
 Eowena adieu. 
 
 " Farewell," she said. "May He, who made both Jew 
 and Christian, shower down on you his choicest blessings! 
 The bark that wafts us hence will be under weigh ere we 
 can reach the port." 
 
 She glided from the apartment, leaving Eowena 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 Eowena, 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 Eebecca's beauty and mag- 
 nanimity 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 Eichard, 
 and was graced with further marks of the royal favor. He 
 might have risen still higher, but for the premature death 
 of the heroic Cceur-de-Lion, before the Castle of Chaluz, 
 near Limoges. With the life of a generous, but rash and 
 romantic monarch, perished all the projects which his am- 
 bition and his generosity had formed; to whom may be 
 applied, with a slight alteration, the lines composed 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. 
 
NOTES TO IVANHOE. 
 
 Note A, p. 7. The Ranger op the Forest, that Cuts the 
 
 FOBECLAWS OFF OUR DOGS. 
 
 A most sensible grievance of those aggrieved times were the 
 Forest Laws. These oppressive enactments were the produce of the- 
 Norman Conquest, for the Saxon laws of the chase were mild and 
 humane; while those of William, enthusiastically attached to the 
 exercise and its rights, were to the last degree tyrannical. The 
 formation of the New Forest bears evidence to his passion for hunt- 
 ing, where he reduced many a happy village to the condition of that 
 one commemorated by my friend, Mr. William Stewart Rose : 
 
 " Amongst the ruins of the church 
 The midnight raven found a perch, 
 
 A melancholy place; 
 The ruthless Conqueror cast down, 
 Woe worth the deed, that little town, 
 
 To lengthen out his chase." 
 
 The disabling dogs, which might be necessary for keeping flocks 
 and herds, from running at the deer, was called lawing, and was in 
 general use. The Charter of the Forest, designed to lessen those 
 evils, declares that inquisition, or view, for lawing dogs, shall be 
 made every third year, and shall then be done by the view and testi- 
 mony of lawful men, not otherwise; and they whose dogs shall be 
 then found unlawed shall give three shillings for mercy, and for the 
 future no man's ox shall be taken for lawing. Such lawing also 
 shall be done by the assize commonly used, and which is, that three 
 claws shall be cut off without the ball of the right foot. See on this 
 subject the Historical Essay on the Magna Charta of King John (a 
 most beautiful volume), by Richard Thomson. 
 
 Note B, p. 14. Negro Slaves. 
 
 The severe accuracy of some critics has objected to the com- 
 plexion of the slaves of Brian de Bois-Guilbert, as being totally out of 
 costume and propriety. I remember the same objection being made 
 to a set of sable functionaries, whom my friend, Mat Lewis, intro- 
 duced as the guards and mischief-doing satellites of the wicked 
 Baro» 'm to Castle Specter, Mat treated the objection with great 
 
496 NOTES TO 1VANH0E. 
 
 contempt, and averred in reply, that lie made the slaves black in 
 order to obtain a striking effect of contrast, and that, could he have 
 derived a similar advantage from making his heroine blue, blue she 
 should have been. 
 
 I do not pretend to plead the immunities of my order so highly 
 as this; but neither will I allow that the author of a modern antique 
 romance is obliged to confine himself to the introduction of those 
 manners only which can be proved to have absolutely existed in the 
 times he is depicting, so that he restrain himself to such as are 
 plausible and natural, and contain no obvious anachronism. In this 
 point of view, what can be more natural than that the Templars, 
 who, we know, copied closely the luxuries of the Asiatic warriors 
 with whom they fought, should use the service of enslaved Africans, 
 whom the fate of war transferred to new masters ? I am sure, if 
 there are no precise proofs of their having done so, there is nothing, 
 on the other hand, that can entitle us positively to conclude that they 
 never did. Besides, there is an instance in romance. 
 
 John of Kampayne, an excellent juggler and minstrel, undertook 
 to effect the escape of Audulf de Bracy, by presenting himself in 
 disguise at the court of the king, where he was confined. For this 
 purpose ' ' he stained his hair and his whole body entirely as black as 
 jet, so that nothing was white but his teeth," and succeeded in im- 
 posing himself on the king as an Ethiopian minstrel. He effected, 
 by stratagem, the escape of the prisoner. Negroes, therefore, must 
 have been known in England in the dark ages.* 
 
 Note C, p. 44. Language op the Chase. 
 
 There was no language which the Normans more formally sepa- 
 rated from that of common life than the terms of the chase. The 
 objects of their pursuit, whether bird or animal, changed their name 
 each year, and there were a hundred conventional terms, to be 
 ignorant of which was to be without one of the distinguishing marks 
 of a gentleman. The reader may consult Dame Juliana Berners' 
 book on the subject. The origin of this science was imputed to the 
 celebrated Sir Tristrem, famous for his tragic intrigue with the 
 beautiful Ysolte. As the Normans reserved the amusement of hunt- 
 ing strictly to themselves, the terms of this formal jargon were all 
 taken from the French language. 
 
 Note D, p. 170. Minstbelsy. 
 
 The realm of France, it is well known, was divided betwixt the 
 Norman and Teutonic race, who spoke the language in which the 
 word Yes is pronounced ovi, and the inhabitants of the southern 
 regions, whose speech, bearing some affinity to the Italian, pro 
 nounced the same word oe. The poets of the former race were 
 called Minstrels, and their poems Lays : those of the latter were 
 termed Troubadours, and their compositions called Sirventes, and 
 other names. Richard, a professed admirer of the joyous science in 
 
 * Dissertation on Romance and Minstrelsy, prefixed to Kitsou's Ancient 
 Metrical Romances, p. clxxxvu. 
 
N0TB8 TO IVANHOB. 49? 
 
 all its branches, could imitate either the minstrel or troubadour. It 
 is less likely that he should have been able to compose or sing an 
 English ballad; yet so much do we wish to assimilate him of the 
 Lion Heart to the band of warriors whom he led, that anachronism, 
 if there be one, may readily be forgiven. 
 
 Note E, p. 205. Battle op Stamford. 
 
 A great topographical blunder occurred here in former editions. 
 The bloody battle alluded to in the text, fought and won by King 
 Harold over his brother, the rebellious Tosti, and an auxiliary force 
 of Danes or Norsemen, was said, in the text and a corresponding note, 
 to have taken place at Stamford, in Leicestershire, and upon the 
 river Welland. This is a mistake, into which the author has been 
 led by trusting to his memory, and so confounding two places of the 
 same name. The Stamford, Strangford, or Staneford, at which the 
 battle was really fought, is a ford upon the river Derwent, at the dis- 
 tance of about seven miles from York, and situated in that large and 
 opulent county. A long wooden bridge over the Derwent, the site of 
 which, with one remaining buttress, is still shown to the curious 
 traveler, was furiously contested. One Norwegian long defended it 
 by his single arm, and was at length pierced with a spear thrust 
 through the planks of the bridge from a boat beneath. 
 
 The neighborhood of Stamford on the Derwent, contains some 
 memorials of the battle. Horseshoes, swords, and the heads of hal- 
 berds, or bills, are often found there ; one place is called the 
 "Danes' well," another the " Battle flats." From a tradition that 
 the weapon with which the Norwegian champion was slain resembled 
 a pear, or, as others say, that the trough or boat in which the soldier 
 floated under the bridge to strike the blow had such a shape, the 
 country people usually begin a great market, which is held at Stamford, 
 with an entertainment called the Pear-pie feast, which after all may 
 be a corruption of the Spear-pie feast. For more particulars, Drake's 
 History of York may be referred to. The author's mistake was 
 pointed out to him, in the most obliging manner, by Robert Belt, 
 Esq., of Bossal House. The battle was fought in 1066. 
 
 Note F, p. 214. The Range of Iron Bars above that Glowing 
 Charcoal. 
 
 This horrid species of torture may remind the reader of that to 
 which the Spaniards subjected Guatimozin, in order to extort a 
 discovery of his concealed wealth. But, in fact, an instance of simi- 
 lar barbarity is to be found nearer home, and occurs in the annals of 
 Queen Mary's time, containing so many other examples of atrocity. 
 Every reader must recollect, that after the fall of the Catholic 
 church, and the Presbyterian church government had been estab- 
 lished by law, the rank, and especially the wealth, of the bishops, 
 abbots, priors, and so forth, were no longer vested in ecclesiastics, 
 but in lay impropriators of the church revenues, or, as the Scottish 
 lawyers called them, titulars of the temporalities of the benefice, 
 though having no claim to the spiritual character of their predeces- 
 sors in office. 
 
498 NOTES TO lYAXMOE. 
 
 Of these laymen, who were thus invested with ecclesiastical 
 revenue, some were of high birth and rank, like the famous Lord 
 James Stewart, the Prior of Saint Andrews, who did not fail to keep 
 for their own use the rents, lands and revenues of the church. But 
 if, on the other hand, the titulars were men of inferior importance, 
 who had been inducted into the office by the interest of some power- 
 ful person, it was generally understood that the new abbot should 
 grant for his patron's benefit such leases and conveyances of the 
 church lands and tithes as might afford their protector the lion's 
 share of the booty. This was the origin of those who were wittily 
 termed Tulchan* bishops, being a sort of imaginary prelate, whose 
 image was set up to enable his patron and principal to plunder the 
 benefice under his name. 
 
 There were other cases, however, in which men who had got 
 grants of these secularized benefices were desirous of retaining them 
 for their own use, without having the influence sufficient to estab- 
 lish their purpose; and these became frequently unable to protect 
 themselves, however unwilling to submit to the exactions of the 
 feudal tyrant of the district. 
 
 Bannatyne, Secretary to John Knox, recounts a singular course of 
 oppression practiced on one of those titular abbots by the Earl of Cas- 
 silis in Ayrshire, whose extent of feudal influence was so wide that 
 he was usually termed the King of Carrick. We give the fact as it 
 occurs in Bannatyne's Journal, only premising that the journalist 
 held his master's opinions, both with respect to the Earl of Cassilis 
 as an oppressor of the king's party,, and as being a detester of the prac- 
 tice of granting church revenues to titulars, instead of their being de- 
 voted to pious uses, such as the support of the clergy, expense of 
 schools, and the relief of the national poor. He mingles in the nar- 
 rative, therefore, a well deserved feeling of execration toward the 
 tyrant who employed the torture, with a tone of ridicule toward the 
 patient, as if, after all, it had not been ill bestowed on such au 
 equivocal and amphibious character as a titular abbot. He entitles 
 his narrative: 
 
 " The Earl of Cassilis' Tyranny Against a Quick (i. e. Living) 
 
 Man. 
 
 "Master Allan Stewart, friend to Captain James Stewart, of 
 Cardonall, by means of the Queen's corrupted court, obtained the 
 Abbey of Crossraguel. The said Earl thinking himself greater than 
 any king in those quarters, determined to have that whole benefice 
 (as he hath divers others) to pay at his pleasure; and because he 
 could not find sic security as his insatiable appetite required, this 
 shift was devised: The said Mr. Allan, being in company with the 
 Laird of Bargany (also a Kennedy), was, by the Earl and his friends, 
 enticed to leave the safeguard which he had with the Laird, and 
 come to make good cheer with the said Earl. The simplicity of the 
 
 * A Tulchan is a calf's skin stuffed, and placed before a cow who has lost 
 its calf, to induce the animal to part with her milk. The resemblance be- 
 tween a Tulchan and a Bishop named to transmit the temporalities of a bene- 
 fice to some powerfulpatron, is easily understood. 
 
NOTBS TO IVANHOE. 499 
 
 imprudent man was suddenly abused; and so he passed his time with 
 them certain days, which he did in Maybole with Thomas Kennedie, 
 uncle to the said Earl; after which the said Mr. Allan passed, with 
 quiet company, to visit the place and bounds of Crossraguel [his 
 abbacy], of which the said Earl being surely advertised, determined 
 to put in practice the tyranny which long before he had conceived. 
 And so, as king of the country, apprehended the said Mr. Allan, and 
 carried him to the house of Denure, where for a season he was hon- 
 orably treated (gif a prisoner can think any entertainment pleasing); 
 but after that certain days were spent, and that the Earl could not 
 obtain the feus of Crossraguel according to his awin appetite, he de- 
 termined to prove gif a collation could work that which neither 
 dinner nor supper could do for a long time. And so the said Mr. 
 Allan was carried to a secret chamber; with him passed the honor- 
 able Earl, his worshipful brother, and such as were appointed to be 
 servants at that banquet. In the chamber there was a grit-iron 
 chimlay, under it a fire; other grit provision was not seen. The first 
 course was — 'My Lord Abbot,' said the Earl, 'it will please you to 
 confess here, that with your own consent you remain in my com- 
 pany, because ye durst not commit yourself to the hands of others.' 
 The Abbot answered, ' Would you, my lord, that I should make a 
 manifest lie for your pleasure? The truth is, my lord, it is against 
 my will that I am here; neither yet have I any pleasure in your com- 
 pany.' ' But ye shall remain with me, nevertheless, at this time,' 
 said the Earl. ' I am not able to resist your will and pleasure,' said 
 the Abbot, 'in this place.' 'Ye must then obey me,' said the Earl, 
 and with that were presented unto him certain letters to subscribe, 
 amongst which there was a five years' tack, and a nineteen years' 
 tack, and a charter of feu of all the lands of Crossraguel, with all 
 clauses necessary for the Earl to hasten him to hell. For gif adul- 
 tery, sacrilege, oppression, barbarous cruelty, and theft heaped upon 
 theft, deserve hell, the great King of Carrick can no more escape 
 hell forever, than the imprudent Abbot escaped the fire for a season 
 as follows: 
 
 "After that the Earl spied repugnance, and saw that he could 
 not come to his purpose by fair means, he commanded his cooks to 
 prepare the banquet; and so first they flayed the sheep, that is, they 
 took off the Abbot's cloathes even to his skin, and next they bound 
 him to the chimney — his legs to the one end and his arms to the 
 other; and so they began to beet [i. e. to feed] the fire sometimes to 
 his buttocks, sometimes to his legs, sometimes to his shoulders and 
 arms; and that the roast might not burn, but that it might rest in 
 soppe, they spared not flambing with oil (basting as a cook bastes 
 roasted meat); Lord, look thou to sic cruelty! And that the crying 
 of the miserable man should not be heard, they closed his mouth 
 that the voice might be stopped. It may be suspected that some 
 partisan of the King's [Darnley's] murder was there. In that tor- 
 ment they held the poor man, till that often he cried for God's sake 
 to despatch him; for he had as meikle gold in his awin purse as 
 would buy ppwder enough to shorten his pain. The famous King 
 of Carrick anij' his cooks, perceiving the roast to be aneuch, com- 
 
gOO NOTES TO IVANSOR 
 
 manded it to be taen fra the fire, and the Earl himself began the 
 grace in this manner: 'Benedicite Jesus Maria, you are the most 
 obstinate man that ever I saw; gif I had known that ye had been so 
 stubborn, I would not for a thousand crowns have handled you so; I 
 never did so to man before you.' And yet he returned to the same 
 practice within two days, and ceased not till that he obtained his 
 foremost purpose, that is, that he had got all his pieces subscryvit 
 alsweill as ane half-roasted hand could do it. The Earl thinking 
 himself sure enough so long as he had the half-roasted Abbot in his 
 awain keeping, and yet being ashamed of his presence by reason of 
 his former cruelty, left the place of Denure in the hands of certain 
 of his servants, and the half-roasted Abbot to be kept there as 
 prisoner. The Laird of Bargany, out of whose company the said 
 Abbot had been enticed, understanding (not the extremity), but the 
 retaining of the man, sent to the court, and raised letters of deliver- 
 ance of the person of the man according to the order, which being 
 disobeyed, the said Earl for his contempt was denounced rebel, and 
 put to the home. But yet hope was there none, neither to the 
 afflicted to be delivered, neither yet to the purchaser [i. e. procurer] 
 of the letters to obtain any comfort thereby; for in that time God 
 was despised, and the lawful authority was contemned in Scotland, 
 in hope of the sudden return and regiment of that cruel murderer of 
 her awin husband, of whose lords the said Earl was called one; and 
 yet, oftener than once, he was solemnly sworn to the King and to his 
 Regent." 
 
 The journalist then recites the complaint of the injured Allan 
 Stewart, Commendator of Crossraguel, to the Regent and Privy 
 Council, averring his having been carried, partly by flattery, partly 
 by force, to the black vault of Denure, a strong fortalice, built on a 
 rock overhanging the Irish Channel, where its ruins are still visible. 
 Here he stated he had been required to execute leases and convey- 
 ances of the whole churches and parsonages belonging to the Abbey 
 of Crossraguel, which he utterly refused as an unreasonable demand, 
 and the more so that he had already conveyed them to John Stewart, 
 of Cardonall, by whose interest he had been made Commendator. 
 The complaint proceeds to state, that he was, after many menaces, 
 stripped, bound, and his limbs exposed to fire in the manner already 
 described, till, compelled by excess of agony, he subscribed the 
 charter and leases presented to him, of the contents of which he was 
 totally ignorant. A few days afterward, being again required to exe- 
 cute a ratification of these deeds before a notary and witnesses, and 
 refusing to do so, he was once more subjected to the same torture, 
 until his agony was so excessive that he exclaimed: "Fyeon you, 
 why do you not strike your whingers into me, or blow me up with a 
 barrel of powder, rather than torture me thus unmercifully?" Upon 
 which the Earl commanded Alexander Richard, one of the attend- 
 ants, to stop the patient's mouth with a napkin, which was done 
 accordingly. Thus he was once more compelled to submit to their 
 tyranny. The petition concluded with stating that the Earl, under 
 pretense of the deeds thus iniquitiously obtained, had taken posses- 
 sion of the whole place and living of Crossraguel, and enjoyed the 
 profits thereof for three years. 
 
NOTES TO IVANHOE. 501 
 
 The doom of the Regent and Council shows singularly the total 
 interruption of justice at this calamitous period, even in the most 
 clamant cases of oppression. The Council declined interference 
 with the course of the ordinary justice of the county, which was 
 completely under the said Earl of Cassilis' control, and only enacted, 
 that he should forbear molestation of the unfortunate Commendator, 
 under the surety of two thousand pounds Scots. The Earl was ap- 
 pointed also to keep the peace toward the celebrated George Bu- 
 chanan, who had a pension out of the same abbacy, to a similar 
 extent, and under a like penalty. 
 
 The consequences are thus described by the journalist already 
 quoted. 
 
 " The said Laird of Bargany perceiving that ordinary justice 
 could neither help the oppressed, nor yet the afflicted, applied his 
 mind to the next remedy, and in the end, by his servants, took the 
 house of Denure, where the poor Abbot was kept prisoner. The 
 bruit flew fra Carrick to Galloway, and so suddenly assembled herd 
 and hyre-man that pertained to *he band of the Kennedies; and so 
 within a few hours was the house of Denure environed again. The 
 master of Cassilis was the f rackast [». e. the readiest or boldest] and 
 would not stay, but in his heat would lay fire to the dungeon, with no 
 small boasting that all the enemies within the house should die. 
 
 " He was required and admonished by those that were within to 
 be more moderate, and not to hazard himself so foolishly. But no 
 admonition would help, till that the wind of an haequebute blasted 
 his shoulder, and then ceased he from further pursuit in fury. The 
 Laird of Bargany had before purchased [obtained] of the authorities, 
 letters, charging all faithful subjects to the King's Majesty, to assist 
 him against that cruel tyrant and unsworn traitor, the Earl of Cas- 
 silis ; which letters, with his private writings, he published, and 
 shortly found sic concurrence of Kyle and Cunynghame with his 
 other friends, that the Carrick company drew back fra the house: 
 and so the other approached, furnished the house with more men, 
 delivered the said Mr. Allan, and carried him to Ayr, where, pub- 
 licly at the market cross of the said town, he declared how cruelly 
 he was entreated, and how the murdered King suffered not sic 
 torment as he did, excepting only he escaped the death : and, 
 therefore, publicly did revoke all things that were done in that ex- 
 tremity, and especially he revoked the subscription of the three 
 writings, to- wit, of a fyve yeir tack and nineteen yeir tack, and of 
 a charter of feu. And so the house remained, and remains (till this 
 day, the 7th of February, 1571) in the custody of the said Laird of 
 Bargany and of his servants. And so cruelty was disappointed of 
 proffeit present, and shall be eternallie punished, unless he earnestly 
 repent. And this far for the cruelty committed, to give occasion 
 unto others, and to such as hate the monstrous dealing of degener- 
 ate nobility, to look more diligently upon their behaviors, and to 
 paint them forth unto the world, that they themselves may be 
 ashamed of their own beastliness, and that the world may be advertised 
 and admonished to abhor, detest, and avoid the company of all sic 
 tyrants, who are not worthy of the society of men, but ought to be 
 sent suddenly to the devil, with whom they must burn without end, 
 
502 NOTES TO IVANtiOE. 
 
 for their contempt of God, and cruelty committed against his creat- 
 ures. Let Cassilis and his brother be the first to be the example 
 unto others. Amen. Amen."* 
 
 This extract has been somewhat amended or modernized in or- 
 thography, to render it more intelligible to the general reader. I 
 have to add, that the Kennedies of Bargany, who interfered in behalf 
 of the oppressed Abbot, were themselves a younger branch of the 
 Cassilis family, but held different politics, and were powerful enough 
 in this, and other instances, to bid them defiance. 
 
 The ultimate issue of this affair does not appear; but as the 
 house of Cassilis are still in possession of the greater part of the feus 
 and leases which belong to Crossraguel Abbey, it is probable the 
 talons of the King of Carrick were strong enough, in those dis- 
 orderly times, to retain the prey which they had so mercilessly fixed 
 upon. 
 
 I may also add, that it appears, by some papers in my possession, 
 that the officers or Country Keepers on the border, were accustomed 
 to torment their prisoners by binding them to the iron bars of their 
 chimneys, to extort confession. 
 
 Note G, p. 295. " Something besembling a bar of iron, and a 
 
 PADLOCK PAINTED BLUE ON THE BLACK SHIELD." 
 
 The author has been here upbraided with false heraldry, in having 
 charged metal upon metal. It should be remembered, however, that 
 heraldry had only its first rude origin during the Crusades, and that 
 all the minutiae of the fantastic science were the work of time, and 
 introduced at a much later period. Those who think otherwise 
 must suppose that the Goddess of Armoirers, like the Goddess of 
 Arms, sprung into the world completely equipped in all the gaudy 
 trappings of the department she presides over. 
 
 Aditional Note. 
 
 In corroboration of what is above stated, it may be observed that 
 the arms which were assumed by Godfrey of Boulogne himself, 
 after the conquest of Jerusalem, was a cross counter patent cantoned 
 with four little crosses or, upon a field azure, displaying thus metal 
 upon metal. The heralds have tried to explain this undeniable fact 
 in different modes — but Feme gallantly contends that a prince of 
 Godfrey's qualities should not be bound by the ordinary rules. The 
 Scottish Nisbet, and the same Feme, insist that the chiefs 
 of the Crusade must have assigned to Godfrey this extraordinary 
 and unwonted coat-of-arms, in order to induce those who should 
 behold them to make inquiries; and hence give them the name of 
 a/rma inquirenda. But with reverence to these grave authorities, it 
 seems unlikely that the assembled princes of Europe should have 
 adjudged Godfrey a coat armorial so much contrary to the general 
 rule, if such rule had then existed; at any rate, it proves that metal 
 upon metal, now accounted a solecism in heraldry, was admitted in 
 
 * Bannatyne's Journal. 
 
2fOTMS TO 1VANH0E. 603 
 
 Other cases similar to that in the text. See Feme's Blazon of Qentrie, 
 p. 838. Edition 1586. Nisbet's Heraldry, vol. i. p. 113. Second 
 edition. 
 
 Note H, p. 326. Ulrica's Death Song. 
 
 It will readily occur to the antiquary that these verses are intended 
 to imitate the antique poetry of the Scalds — the minstrels of the old 
 Scandinavians — the race, as the Laureate so happily terms them, 
 
 ' ' Stern to inflict, and stubborn to endure, 
 „ Who smiled in death." 
 
 The poetry of the Anglo-Saxons, after their civilization and conver- 
 sion, was of a different and softer character; but in the circumstances 
 of Ulrica, she may be not unnaturally supposed to return to the wild 
 strains which animated her forefathers during the time of Paganism 
 and untamed ferocity. 
 
 Note I, p. 340. Richard Cceuk-de-Lion. 
 
 The interchange of a cuff with the jolly priest is not entirely out 
 of character with Richard I, if romance reads him aright. In the 
 very curious romance on the subject of his adventures in the Holy 
 Land, and his return from thence, it is recorded how he exchanged 
 a pugilistic favor of this nature, while a prisoner in Germany. His 
 opponent was the son of his principal warder, and was so impudent 
 as to give the challenge to this barter of buffets. The King stood 
 forth like a. true man, and received a blow which staggered him. 
 In requital, having previously waxed his hand, a practice unknown, 
 I believe, to the gentlemen of the modern fancy, he returned the box 
 on the ear with such earnest as to kill his antagonist on the spot.— 
 See, in Ellis' Specimens of English Romance, that of Cwur-de-IAon. 
 
 Note K, p. 354. Hedge-Priests. 
 
 It is curious to observe, that in every state of society, some sort of 
 ghostly consolation is provided for the members of the community, 
 though assembled for purposes diametrically opposite to religion. A 
 gang of beggars have their Patrico, and the banditti of the Apen- 
 nines have among them persons acting as monks and priests, by 
 whom they are confessed, and who perform mass before them. Un- 
 questionably, such reverend persons, in such a society, must ac- 
 commodate their manners and their morals to the community in 
 which they live; and if they can occasionally obtain a degree of rev- 
 erence for their supposed spiritual gifts, are, on most occasions, 
 loaded with unmerciful ridicule, as possessing a character inconsist- 
 ent with all around them. 
 
 Hence the fighting parson in the old play of Sir John Oldcastle, 
 and the famous friar of Robin Hood's band. Nor were such charac- 
 ters ideal. There exists a monition of the Bishop of Durham against 
 irregular churchmen of this class, who associated themselves with 
 border robbers, and desecrated the holiest offices of the priestly func- 
 tion, by celebrating them for the benefit of thieves, robbers and 
 
504 NOTES TO IVANEOE. 
 
 murderers, among ruins and caverns of the earth; without regard to 
 canonical form, and with torn and dirty attire, and maimed rites, 
 altogether improper for the occasion. 
 
 Note L, p. 458. Castle of CONiNGSBtmoH. 
 
 When I last saw this interesting ruin of ancient days, one of the 
 very few remaining examples of Saxon fortification, I was strongly 
 impressed with the desire of tracing out a sort of theory on the sub- 
 ject, which, from some recent acquaintance with the architecture of 
 the ancient Scandinavians, seemed to me peculiarly interesting. I 
 was, however, obliged by circumstances to proceed on my journey, 
 without leisure to take more than a transient view of Coningsburgh. 
 Yet the idea dwells so strongly in my mind that I feel considerably 
 tempted to write a page or two in detailing at least the outlines of 
 my hypothesis, leaving better antiquaries to correct or refute con- 
 clusions which are perhaps too hastily drawn. 
 
 Those who have visited the Zetland Islands are familiar with the 
 description of castles called by their inhabitants burghs and by the 
 Highlanders — for they are also to be found both in the Western 
 Isles and on the mainland — duns. Pennant has engraved a view of 
 the famous Dun-Dornadilla in Glenelg; and there are many others, 
 all of them built after a peculiar mode of architecture, which argue 
 a people in the most primitive state of society. The most perfect 
 specimen is that upon the Island of Mousa, near to the mainland of 
 Zetland, which is probably in the same state as when inhabited. 
 
 It is a single round tower, the wall curving in slightly, and then 
 turning outward again in the form of a dice-box, so that the defend- 
 ers on the top might the better protect the base. It is formed of 
 rough stone, selected with care, and laid in courses or circles, with 
 much compactness, but without cement of any kind. The tower has 
 naver, to appearance, had roofing of any sort; a fire was made in the 
 center of the space which it incloses, and originally the building was 
 probably little more than a wall drawn as a sort of screen around 
 the great council fire of the tribe. But although the means or in- 
 genuity of the builders did not extend so far as to provide a roof, 
 they supplied the want by constructing apartments in the interior of 
 the walls of the tower itself. The circumvallation formed a double 
 inclosure, the inner side of which was, in fact, two feet or three feet 
 distant from the other, and. connected by a concentric range of long 
 flat stones, thus forming a series of concentric rings or stories of 
 various heights, rising to the top of the tower. Each of these stories 
 or galleries has four windows, facing directly to the points of the 
 compass, and rising, of course, regularly above each other. These 
 four perpendicular ranges of windows admitted air, and, the fire 
 being kindled, heat, or smoke at least, to each of the galleries. The 
 access from gallery to gallery is equally primitive. A path on tbe 
 principle of an inclined plane turns round and round the building 
 like a screw, and gives access to the different stories, intersecting 
 each of them in its turn, and thus gradually rising to the top of the 
 wall of the tower. On the outside there are no windows; and I may 
 add that an inclosure of a square, or sometimes a round form, gave 
 
NOTES TO IVANHOE. 505 
 
 the inhabitants of the burgh an opportunity to secure any sheep or 
 cattle they might possess. 
 
 Such is the general architecture of that very early period when the 
 Northmen swept the seas, and brought to their rude houses, such as 
 I have described them, the plunder of polished nations. In Zetland 
 there are several scores of these burghs, occupying in every case, 
 capes, headlands, islets and similar places of advantage singularly well 
 chosen. I remember the remains of one upon an island in a small lake 
 near Lerwick, which at high tide communicates with the sea, the access 
 to which is very ingenious, by means of a causeway or dike, about 
 three or four inches under the surface of the water. This causeway 
 makes a sharp angle in its approach to the burgh. The inhabitants, 
 doubtless, were well acquainted with this, but strangers, who might 
 approach in a hostile manner, and were ignorant of the curve in the 
 causeway, would probably plunge into the lake, which is six or seven 
 feet in depth at least. This must have been the device of some 
 Vauban or Cohorn of those early times. 
 
 The style of these buildings evinces that the architect possessed 
 neither the art of using lime or cement of any kind, nor the skill to 
 throw an arch, construct a roof, or erect a stair; and yet, with all 
 this ignorance, showed great ingenuity in selecting the situation of 
 burghs, and regulating the access to them, as well as neatness and 
 regularity in the erection, since the buildings themselves show a 
 style of advance in the arts scarcely consistent with the ignorance of 
 so many of the principal branches of architectural knowledge. 
 
 I have always thought that one of the most curious and valuable 
 objects of antiquaries has been to trace the progress of society, by 
 the efforts made in early ages to improve the rudeness of their first 
 expedients, until they either approach excellence, or, as is most fre- 
 quently the case, are supplied by new and fundamental discoveries, 
 which supersede both the earlier and ruder system, and the improve- 
 ments which have been engrafted upon it. For example, if we con- 
 ceive the recent discovery of gas to be so much improved and adapted 
 to domestic use, as to supersede all other modes of producing domes- 
 tic light, we can already suppose, some centuries afterward, the 
 heads of a whole Society of Antiquaries half turned by the discovery 
 of a pair of patent snuffers, and by the learned theories which would 
 be brought forward to account for the form and purpose of so singu- 
 lar an implement. 
 
 Following some such principle, I am inclined to regard the singular 
 Castle of- Coningsburgh — I mean the Saxon part of it — as a step in 
 advance from the' rude architecture, if it deserves the name, which 
 must have been common to the Saxon a3 to other Northmen. The 
 builders had attained the art of using cement, and of roofing a build- 
 ing — great improvements on the original burgh. But in the round 
 keep, a shape only seen in the most ancient castles — the chambers 
 excavated in the thickness of the walls and buttresses — the difficulty 
 by which access is gained from one story to those above it, Conings- 
 burgh still retains the simplicity of its origin, and shows by what 
 slow degrees man proceeded from occupying such rude and incon- 
 venient lodgings as were afforded by the galleries of the Castle of 
 Mousa, to the more splendid accommodations of the Norman castles, 
 with all their stern and Gothic graces. 
 
506 NOTES TO IVANHOE. 
 
 I am ignorant if these remarks are new, or if they will be con- 
 firmed by closer examination; but I think that, on a hasty observa- 
 tion, Coningsburgh offers means of curious study to those who may 
 wish to trace the history of architecture back to the times preceding 
 the Norman Conquest. 
 
 It would bo highly desirable that a cork model should be taken of 
 the Castle of Mousa, as it cannot be well understood by a plan. 
 
 The Castle of Coningsburgh is thus described: 
 
 " The castle is large, the outer walls standing on a pleasant ascent 
 from the river, but much overtopt by a high hill, on which the town 
 stands, situated at the head of a rich and magnificent vale, formed 
 by an amphitheater of woody hills, in which flows the gentle Don. 
 Near the castle is a barrow, said to be Hengist's tomb. The entrance 
 is flanked to the left by a round tower, with a sloping base, and there 
 are several similar in the outer wall; the entrance has piers of a 
 gate, and on the east side the ditch and bank are double and very 
 steep. On the top of the church-yard wall is a tombstone, on which 
 are cut, in high relief, two ravens or such like birds. On the south 
 side of the church-yard lies an ancient stone, ridged like a coffin, on 
 which is carved a man on horseback; and another man with a shield 
 encountering a vast winged serpent, and a man bearing a shield 
 behind him. It was probably one of the rude crosses not uncommon 
 in church-yards in this county. See it engraved on the plate of 
 crosses for this volume, plate 14, fig. 1. The name of Coningsburgh, 
 by which this castle goes in the old edition of the Britannia, would 
 lead one to suppose it the residence of the Saxon kings. It afterward 
 belonged to King Harold. The Conqueror bestowed it upon William 
 de Warren, with all its privileges and jurisdiction, which are said to 
 have extended over twenty-eight towns. At the corner of the area, 
 which is of an irregular form, stands the great tower, or keep, 
 placed on a small hill of its own dimensions, on which lie six vast 
 projecting buttresses, ascending in a steep direction to prop and sup- 
 port the building, and continued upward up the side as turrets. The 
 tower within forms a complete circle, twenty-one feet in diameter, 
 the walls fourteen feet thick. The ascent into the tower is by an 
 exceeding deep flight of steep steps, four feet and a half wide, on 
 the south side leading to a low door-way, over which is a circular 
 arch crossed by a great transom stone. Within this door is the 
 staircase, which ascends straight through the thickness of the wall, 
 not communicating with the room on the first floor, in whose center 
 is the opening of the dungeon. Neither of these lower rooms is 
 lighted except from a hole in the floor of the third story; the room 
 in which, as well as that above it, is finished with compact, smooth 
 stonework, both having chimney-pieces, with an arch resting on 
 triple-clustered pillars. In the third story, or guard-chamber, is a 
 small recess with a loop-hole, probably a bedchamber, and in that 
 floor above a niche for a saint or holy- water pot. Mr. King imagines 
 this a Saxon castle of the first ages of the Heptarchy. Mr. Watson 
 thus describes it: From the first floor to the second story (third from 
 the ground) is a way by a stair in the wall five feet wide. The next 
 staircase is approached by a ladder, and ends at the fourth story 
 from tfee ground. Two yards, from the door, at the he&4 of, this 
 
NOTES TO IVANHOE. ^ 
 
 stair, is an opening nearly east, accessible by treading on the ledge 
 of the wall, which diminishes eight inches each story; and this last 
 opening leads into a room or chapel ten feet by twelve, and fifteen 
 or sixteen high, arched with freestone, and supported by small cir- 
 cular columns of the same, the capitals and arches Saxon. It has an 
 east window, and on each side in the wall, about four feet from the 
 ground, a stone basin, with a hole and iron pipe to convey the water 
 into or through the wall. This chapel is one of the buttresses, but 
 no sign of it without, for even the window, though large within, is 
 only a long narrow loop-hole, scarcely to be seen without. On the 
 left side of this chapel is a small oratory, eight by six in the thick- 
 ness o f the wall, with a niche in the wall, and enlightened by a like 
 loop-hole. The fourth stair from the ground, ten feet west from the 
 chapel door leads to the top of the tower through the thickness of 
 the wall, which at top is 'but three yards. Each story is about 
 fifteen feet high, so that the tower will be seventy -five feet from the 
 ground. The inside forms a circle, whose diameter may be about 
 twelve feet. The well at the bottom of the dungeon is piled with 
 stones." — Gough's Edition of Camden's Britannia. Second Edition, 
 vol. iii, p. 267. 
 
 THE END.