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Sir H. Raeburn 
 
 W&6d4/&^~ 
 
 1771-1832 
 
J 
 
 l)tst\)'s Cnglisl) Classics 
 
 IVANHOE : A ROMANCE 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT 
 
 EDITED, WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES, BY 
 
 PORTE? ZANDER MacCLINTOCK, A.M 
 
 INSTRL? TOR IN THE UN1VE R8ITY OF CHICAGO 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY C. J>- BROCK 
 
 BOSTON, U.S.A. 
 D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 
 
 1905 
 
/ 
 
 \ 
 
 Copyright, lfcuo. 
 Fob Introduction, Notes, and Gl 
 By D. C. HEATH & CO. 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 t"HE assertion that artistic pleasure is the best fruit of the reading 
 of literature may be called a truism ; and the enjoyment of this 
 artistic pleasure as the immediate accompaniment of one's read- 
 ing, is the ideal experience. But artistic pleasure is not a simple 
 product ; it is the emotional element of appreciation, of which the 
 other and indispensable element is intellectual comprehension. 
 
 Toward the intellectual comprehension of such a masterpiece as 
 " Ivanhoe," dealing as it does with distant times and bygone man- 
 ners, it is necessary to supply the young student with certain helps, 
 which should, of course, be sufficiently convenient for reference, 
 but not clamorously obtrusive. In the " Ivanhoe " here presented 
 there are neither line numbers nor foot-notes to mar the literary 
 look of the page. The student may, therefore, read without inter- 
 ruption until he encounters what is to him a difficulty. The intel- 
 ligent student will consult the notes unbidden when he realizes 
 that they may contain information or suggestions valuable to him. 
 
 In the Glossary are given such terms as may be called technical 
 and therefore require definition or explanation. In the Notes ap- 
 pear those expressions which need fuller treatment, and certain 
 matters which, though needing explanation, are likely to escape the 
 reader's notice. The Notes also include Scott's notes, a few of 
 which are condensed. Four of the long notes appended by Scott 
 to the later edition of "Ivanhoe," being interesting only from 
 the antiquarian point of view, are omitted altogether. 
 
 The Glossary and Notes are not intended to be a substitute for 
 the ordinary reference books ; the student will need to consult his 
 dictionary, his history, and his maps for many matters. 
 
 • • • 
 
 in 
 
 c . 
 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 It was not deemed necessary to include either Scott's Dedicatory 
 Epistle or his Introduction to the edition of 1829. Such points 
 in either as seemed essential for the purposes of this book were 
 digested into the editor's Introduction. 
 
 This Introduction is not an introduction to the life of Scott, nor 
 to Scott's whole literary work, but tries to attain the more modest 
 end of being an introduction to " Ivanhoe." 
 
 The text is that of the 1829 edition, with some modifications of 
 punctuation. Scott's well-known carelessness in this matter leaves 
 an editor much latitude. 
 
 To acknowledge my large indebtedness to my colleague, Pro- 
 fessor W. D. MacClintock, is the final pleasant detail of a very 
 pleasant task. 
 
 Chicago, 1899, 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Portrait by Sir H. Raebcjrn. Illustrations by Charles E. Brock. 
 Portrait of Scott ...... Frontispiece 
 
 FACING page 
 
 " Do you dispute with me, slave ! " 18 
 
 " I know little of the knight of Ivanhoe," answered the 
 
 Palmer 53 
 
 Struck with the sharp end of his spear the shield of Brian 
 
 de Bois-Guilbert 88 
 
 " Well and yeomanly done ! " shouted the robbers . . 12C 
 He reached the harp and entertained his guest . . .177 
 
 He was instantly made prisoner, and pulled from his horse . 192 
 Holding him between them, waited the hard-hearted Baron's 
 
 further signal 219 
 
 " I know you not, sir," said the lady 225 
 
 Availing herself of the protection of a large, ancient shield . 297 
 
 He discharged a fearful blow upon the head of Athelstane . 329 
 
 " Make room, my merry men ! " 342 
 
 " Back, dog ! " said the Grand Master 381 
 
 " Yes, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, to thyself I appeal " . .406 
 
 At this moment, Wamba winded the bugle .... 443 
 "My father! My father!" said Ivanhoe. "Grant me thy 
 
 forgiveness!" 466 
 
 Wilfred, placing his foot on his breast . . . commanded 
 
 him to yield 487 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I. The Life and Literary Work of Scott. — The life and per- 
 sonality of Sir Walter Scott are so rich in interest that it is not 
 possible to handle them adequately in any brief way. The main 
 sources for our knowledge of him are the great Life of Scott, by 
 his son-in-law Lockhart, Scott's Familiar Letters, and his Journal. 
 The student should consult these if possible. But brief biographies 
 of Scott are accessible in many manuals. For the purposes of this 
 book the following table is deemed sufficient, — giving the main 
 incidents of his life and an impression of the amount and variety 
 of his literary work : — 
 
 1771. Born August 15. 
 
 1786. Began to study law. 
 
 1792. Called to the bar. 
 
 1796. Published translation of Buerger's Ballads. 
 
 1797. Marriage. 
 
 1799. Appointed sheriff of Selkirkshire. 
 
 1799. Translated Goethe's Goetz von Berlichingen. 
 
 1800. The Eve of St. John : a Border Ballad. 
 1802. Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. 
 
 1804. Edited Sir Tristrem, a Metrical Romance by Thomas of Ercil- 
 
 doune. 
 
 1805. The Lay of the Last Minstrel : a Poem. 
 
 1806. Appointed Clerk of the Sessions. 
 1806. Edited Memoirs, etc. 
 
 1808. Marmion : a Tale of Flodden Field. Edited the Works of Dry- 
 
 den, 18 vols., and Life; Strutt's Queenhoo Hall: a Romance. 
 
 1809. Edited State Papers and Somers' Collection of Tracts. 1809-15. 
 
 1810. The Lady of the Lake : a Poem. Edited English Minstrelsy. 
 
 1811. The Vision of Do 7i Roderick : a Poem. 
 
 1812. Came to live at Abhotsford. 
 
 1813. Rokeby : a Poem ; The Bridal of Triermain. 
 
 1814. Waverley. Edited The Works of Swift, 19 vols, and Life; The 
 
 Border Antiquities. 1814-17. 
 
 vii 
 
Viii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 1815. Guy Mannering ; The Lord of the Isles : a Poem ; The Field of 
 
 Waterloo : a Poem. Edited Memoirs of the Somervilles. 
 
 1816. The Antiquary; Tales of My Landlord, first series (The Black 
 
 Dwarf, Old Mortality). 
 
 1817. Harold the Dauntless : a Poem. 
 
 1818. Rob Roy ; Tales of My Landlord, second series (The Heart of 
 
 Midlothian). 
 
 1819. Tales of My Landlord, third series (The Bride of Lammermoor, 
 
 The Legend of Montrose) ; Ivanhoe . 
 
 1820. Knighted. The Monastery ; The Abbot. 
 
 1821. Kenilworth. Edited the Novelists' Library. 1821-24. 
 
 1822. The Pirate ; The Fortunes of Nigel ; Halidon Hill : a Dramatic 
 
 Sketch. Much editing. 
 
 1823. Peveril of the Peak ; Quentin Durward. 
 
 1824. St. Ronan's Well ; Redgauntlet. 
 
 1825. Tales of the Crusaders (The Betrothed, The Talisman). 
 
 1826. Failure of the Ballantynes and Scott's financial distress. 
 
 Death of his wife. Woodstock. 
 
 1827. Life of Napoleon Buonaparte, 9 vols. ; Chronicles of the Canon- 
 
 gate, first series (The Tioo Drovers, The Highland Widow, 
 The Surgeon's Daughter) ; Tales of a Grandfather. 1827-30. 
 
 1828. Miscellaneous Works Collected, 6 vols. Chronicles of the Canon- 
 
 gate, second series (The Fair Maid of Perth). 
 
 1829. Anne of Geierstein ; History of Scotland. 1829-30. 
 
 1830. Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft. 
 
 1831. Journey to Italy. Tales of My Landlord, fourth series (Count 
 
 Robert of Paris, Castle Dangerous). 
 
 1832. Died September 21. 
 
 II. The Writing of Ivanhoe. — Ivanhoe is the tenth of the 
 Waverley novels and was published in December, 1819, though the 
 first edition bears the date of 1820. In the spring of 1819 Scott 
 was attacked by a malady that caused him intense suffering and 
 rendered him unfit for the labor of writing. He had, therefore, 
 to dictate to an amanuensis all that he composed for several 
 months. This included well-nigh the whole of The Legend of 
 Montrose, a large part of The Bride of Lammermoor, and almost the 
 whole of Ivanhoe. He endured also during the same year several 
 bereavements that caused him deep grief. But in spite of all his 
 suffering he kept courageously at work, dictating between the 
 spasms of pain, often breaking off in the midst of a brilliant 
 
• 
 
 INTRODUCTION. ix 
 
 passage with a groan of physical anguish. After he recovered he 
 read parts of the work written during this period, as if it had been 
 done by another man ; so great had his physical suffering been 
 while he was composing it, that he had not been conscious of the 
 process. Lockhart gives {Life of Scott, Vol. VI., 174), ajacsimile 
 of one of the pages of Ivanhoe in Scott's own hand, calling atten- 
 tion to the beauty and firmness of the work. 1 
 
 While he was writing Ivanhoe he was also at work upon The 
 Monastery, the first volume of which he showed to Lockhart in 
 February, 1820. Scott told him that he worked at the two books 
 together, saying, " It was a relief to interlay the scenery most 
 familiar to me (in The Monastery) with the strange world for 
 which I had to draw so much upon my imagination " (in Ivanhoe). 
 
 The nine novels of the Waverley series which appeared before 
 Ivanhoe dealt altogether with Scottish subjects and material. 
 Though the interest in them showed no sign of abating, and 
 though the public was still guessing at the identity of the author, 
 Scott felt that public interest might be stimulated by a change of 
 subject and a new mystification. In Ivanhoe, therefore, he turned 
 to England for his material, and assumed a new name and charac- 
 ter for the author — Laurence Templeton, an antiquary, who writes 
 to a brother antiquary, Dr. Dryasdust, a long prefatory letter ex- 
 plaining that he had found an old manuscript (the Wardour MS.) 
 which gave him the material for the story; apologizing for giving 
 it the form of a romance, and setting forth the difficulties, the laws, 
 and the liberties of such a romance. 
 
 Scott was persuaded by his publishers to abandon the new mys- 
 tification, and Ivanhoe appeared with the words "by the Author 
 of Waverley " upon the title-page, though the prefatory letter was 
 retained as were also the notes and comments throughout the story 
 signed L. T. It appeared in the usual three volumes, published 
 simultaneously in Edinburgh and London. It is doubtless due to 
 the state of Scott's health that the three novels published during 
 
 1 When Lockhart was writing, the MS. of Ivanhoe, so far as it was 
 in Scott's hand, was at Abbotsford. Mr. Lang in the " Border " Ivan- 
 hoe (1898), states, upon the authority of Lockhart, that the MS. is still 
 there. But inquiry at Abbotsford in 1899 developed the fact that it is 
 not there, nor do the present custodians know where it is. 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 this year received careless proof-reading, the effects of which have 
 come down to the latest texts. 
 
 In 1825 Scott openly avowed the authorship of the Waverley 
 novels, and in 1829 undertook to prepare a definitive edition of them. 
 Every volume of this edition received his own revision. He wrote 
 an introduction to the series, which appears in Waverley. Every 
 student who feels interested in Scott's general point of view and 
 method of work should read this introduction. He wrote also a 
 special introduction to the Ivanhoe of this edition, containing 
 important statements as to his choice of subject, the relation of the 
 story to history, and the sources of his material other than histori- 
 cal. He made also a few unimportant additions to the text, arid 
 appended a few explanatory and exculpatory notes. 
 
 III. The Reception of Ivanhoe and its Subsequent Reputation. — 
 " Ivanhoe was received throughout England with a more clamorous 
 delight than any of the Scotch novels had been. The volumes were 
 now for the first time of the post 8vo. form, with a finer paper than 
 hitherto, the press-work much more elegant, and the price accord- 
 ingly raised from eight shillings a volume to ten. Yet the copies 
 sold in this original shape were twelve thousand." 1 
 
 " The publication of Ivanhoe marks the most brilliant epoch in 
 Scott's history as the literary favorite of his contemporaries. 
 With the novel which he next put forth the immediate sale of 
 them began to decline." 2 
 
 The great reviews did not, of course, express the "clamourous 
 delight " that the public felt. Their praises are tempered with that 
 moderation and those reservations that one would expect to find in 
 an age when criticism was a process of judgment rather than of 
 appreciation. 
 
 Christopher North in Blackwood (December, 1819), is the most 
 enthusiastic of them. The general tone of his comment is repre- 
 sented by this sentence : " Never were the long-gathered stores of 
 most extensive erudition applied to the purpose of imaginative 
 genius with so much easy, lavish, and luxurious power ; never was 
 the illusion of fancy so complete." 
 
 i Lockhart's Life of Scott, Vol. VI., 174. 
 2 Ibid., Vol. VI., 179. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xi 
 
 The Quarterly Review (October, 1821), in a review of all the 
 Waverley novels produced up to that time, says (to extract a few 
 characteristic sentences): "Next comes that splendid masque 
 Ivanhoe. ... On our first perusal we thought Ivanhoe, though 
 not the best, the most brilliant and most amusing, of this whole 
 family of novels. We are not so sure that it stood the second so 
 well. Its principal deficiency is one which besets ordinary novel- 
 ists, but from which our author is in general eminently free — want 
 of individuality in the principal characters. . . . We have little to 
 say as to the story but that it is totally deficient in unity of action, 
 and consists, in fact, of a series of events which occurred at about 
 the same time to a set of persons who happened to be collected 
 at the lists of Ashby." 
 
 The Edinburgh Review (January, 1820), says : " The work before 
 us shows at least as much genius as any of those with which it 
 must now be numbered, . . . but it does not delight so deeply and 
 we rather think it will not please so long ; . . . the interest we do 
 take is in the situations. . . . We feel not only that the characters 
 he brings before us are contrary to our experience, but that they are 
 actually impossible. ... It is a splendid Poem, and contains 
 matter enough for six good tragedies." 
 
 In general the contemporary reviews agree in praising Ivanhoe 
 as a pageant, a spectacle, a masque, and in condemning it as a 
 presentation of actual history, or of real life and character. "As 
 a work of art," says Lockhart, "Ivanhoe is perhaps the finest of 
 all Scott's efforts in prose or verse ; nor have the strength and 
 splendour of his imagination been displayed to higher advantage 
 than in some of the scenes of this romance. But I believe that no 
 reader who is capable of thoroughly comprehending the author's 
 Scotch character and Scotch dialogue will ever place Ivanhoe, as a 
 work of genius, on the same level with Waverley, Guy Mannering, 
 or The Heart of Midlothian.' 1 ' 1 x 
 
 "Ivanhoe," says Andrew Lang, "is such a very dear and old 
 friend that no one who has ever been a boy can pretend to apply 
 to it any stern critical tests." * 2 
 
 i Life of Scott, Vol. VI., 176. 
 
 2 Introduction to Border Edition of Ivanhoe- 
 
Xll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 "Ivanhoe has delighted readers for full seventy years, 1 ' says 
 Clement Shorter, "and it delights them every whit as much 
 to-day as it did the generation to which it first appealed." 1 
 
 11 Tested by . . . the magic by which it evokes the past, the 
 skill with which legend and history are used to create a poetic 
 atmosphere . . . the masterly delineation of nationalities and pro- 
 fessions, and representatives of every order and rank ; above all 
 its fundamental Tightness, . . . tested by these qualities, Ivanhoe 
 deserves its fame as one of the great romances of the world." 2 
 
 The story has been translated into every literary language. 
 Many plays have been based upon it and no less than seven operas 
 and melodramas. The earliest of these is probably the one that 
 Scott went to see in Paris in 1826, 3 and the latest the one pro- 
 duced at the New English Opera House in 1891. It was the germ 
 and inspiration of Thierry's serious historical work, The Norman 
 Conquest. Thackeray's burlesque continuation of it, Rebecca and 
 Rowena, is one of the most successful parodies in English. 
 
 IV. The Germ of Ivanhoe and its Evolution. — No process in 
 the study of a work of art is more valuable to the student than that 
 of finding the starting-point or germinal idea, and following its 
 evolution into the complete thing. This is always a task to be 
 modestly undertaken, and in very complex productions, costs 
 many readings and much thinking. Were Ivanhoe, however, 
 much more complex than it is, Scott has given us in his Dedica- 
 tory Epistle and Introduction certain statements and hints that 
 make it a comparatively easy task to find the germ of the story 
 and to trace its unfolding. 
 
 He felt, as he tells us in the Introduction, that frequent repeti- 
 tion might wear out public favor, and that readers might have 
 begun to weary of those "Scottish manners, Scottish dialect, and 
 Scottish characters of note," which had formed the material of the 
 nine novels already written. Therefore he turns to England for 
 material. He had long been attracted by the picturesque situation 
 arising out of the contrast and opposition between English and 
 
 1 Bibliographical Note to Temple Ivanhoe. 
 
 2 Bliss Perry, Introduction to Ivanhoe ; Longmans' English Classics. 
 * Scott's Journal for October 31, 1826. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xiii 
 
 Norman ; he was also especially interested in the romantic person- 
 ality and experience of Richard Coeur de Lion ; not content with 
 presenting him in Ivanhoe he makes him six years later the hero 
 of The Talisman. He says " The period of the narrative adopted 
 was the reign of Richard I. , not only as abounding with characters 
 whose very names were sure to attract general attention, but as 
 affording a striking contrast between the Saxons, by whom the soil 
 was cultivated, and the Normans, who still reigned in it as con- 
 querors." The introduction of Richard introduced also the 
 background of the crusades, in which the Templars and their 
 order stood out as a striking and picturesque element. Scott 
 apparently accepted the legends that connected Robin Hood and 
 the merry outlaws of Bernesdale and Sherwood with the times of 
 Richard I. In any event it was a golden opportunity for Scott, 
 ballad lover and outlaw lover, to weave into his story all that he 
 could of the rich cycle of Robin Hood adventures. 
 
 Cedric, therefore, appears as the expression and symbol of the old 
 vanishing order ; the young knight of Ivanhoe supplies the symbol 
 of the growing fusion between English and Norman, the repre- 
 sentative of the new order, and at the same time stands as one of 
 the actors in the love story demanded by the romance. Given, 
 then, the situation of contrast between English and Norman, 
 and allowing the tour de force by which Scott placed this in the 
 reign of Richard Coeur de Lion, we find the minor accessories of the 
 story following naturally. 
 
 V. Sources and Material. — The student who turns through an 
 edition of Scott's novels and takes note of the periods of which he 
 treats and glances at his foot-notes and appendices, will be amazed 
 at the extent of his reading. He was interested in everything — 
 history, ballads, romances, memoirs, letters, archaeology, heraldry 
 — and he had a good memory. He never paused in composition to 
 look up details. He gave all quotations, even those prefixed to his 
 chapters, just as they came into his head. He heard men " sing by 
 land and sea," and he frankly took what he "thought he might 
 require," and turned it to his own purposes. Like all great men he 
 was a much indebted man. In mentioning, therefore, the sources 
 from which Scott drew and the material which he made over into 
 Ivanhoe, we are not making the presumptuous and foolish charge 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of plagiarism. Neither would we imply that by any accumulation 
 of sources and material we lu*ve plucked out the heart of its charm, 
 or explained the secret of its life. This, the very essence of the 
 book, Scott originated. 
 
 In the Introduction to the later Ivanhoe he set us the example of 
 speaking frankly of several, of the sources from which he drew. 
 
 The name of the story he took from an old rhyme concerning 
 three manors forfeited by the ancestor of John Hampden to the 
 Black Prince when they quarrelled at a game of tennis : — 
 
 " Tring Wing and Ivanhoe 
 For striking of a blow 
 Hampden did forego 
 And glad to escape so." 
 
 He liked the word " Ivanhoe " as a title for two reasons : " it had 
 an ancient English sound, and it conveyed no indication of the 
 nature of the story," leaving expectation and interest to be 
 satisfied entirely by the book itself. 
 
 He also tells us that the idea of treating the contrast between 
 English and Norman was taken from John Logan's tragedy of 
 Runnimede, published in 1783. 
 
 He mentions Robert Henry's History of England, Sharon 
 Turner's History of the Anglo-Saxons, and the work of Joseph 
 Strutt, 1 as having furnished material for his purpose. A few pas- 
 sages may be definitely traced to one or another of these authori- 
 ties; but in general Scott has digested the material thoroughly 
 into his own form. In one passage he cites Eadmer, a historian of 
 the early twelfth century, whose Historia Novorum we know to 
 have been in the library at Abbotsford. And he tells us in effect 
 that when the chroniclers of the period of which he was treating 
 grew uninteresting or unintelligible, he turned to the pages of the 
 gallant Froissart, ' ' although he flourished, at a period so much 
 more remote from the date of my history." 2 It is in the picture of 
 the tournament and of the trial by combat, — indeed in all the 
 
 1 Strutt's Sports and Pastimes of the English People. Dress and 
 Habits of the English People. Queenho Hall ; a Romance. 
 
 2 Froissart's Chronicle of France, England, Scotland and Spain, 
 completed about 1400. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 matters of chivalry, — that we see most distinctly the influence of 
 Froissart. 
 
 Scott was, from a child, a devoted ballad lover and collector. 
 He knew all the collections that had then been made — Percy's, 
 Eitson's, Ellis's, Hartshorne's, all these he mentions in the Intro- 
 duction or the Notes to Ivanhoe. In the Introduction he gives 
 a detailed account of the ballad, The King and the Hermit, from 
 which he took the suggestion of the meeting of Richard and the 
 Friar in the Hermitage of Copmanhurst. One must have fresh in 
 mind A Little Geste of Bobin Hood in order to appreciate, on the 
 one hand, the closeness with which Scott follows the material 
 given him in the Ballads, and, on the other hand, the masterly way 
 in which he moulds it to his own purposes. 
 
 He adopts for his own Abbot, and for Locksley at the tournament 
 so many details from the pictures of the Abbot and of the Yeoman 
 in the Prologue to The Canterbury Tales, that one is surprised 
 that he makes no mention of his debt to Chaucer. 
 
 Lockhart says the introduction of Rebecca and her father origi- 
 nated in a conversation that Scott held with his friend Skene during 
 the severest season of his bodily sufferings in the early part of the 
 year in which Ivanhoe was written. " ' Mr. Skene,' says that gentle- 
 man's wife, ' sitting by his bedside and trying to amuse him as well 
 as he could in the intervals of pain, happened to get on the subject 
 of the Jews as he had observed them when he spent some time in 
 Germany in his youth, . . . and Mr. Skene, partly in seriousness 
 but partly from the mere wish to turn his mind at the moment upon 
 something that might occupy and divert it, suggested that a group 
 of Jews would be an interesting feature if he could contrive to 
 bring them into his next novel.' Upon the appearance of Ivanhoe 
 he reminded Mr. Skene of this conversation, and said, ' You will 
 find this book owes not a little to your German reminscences.' " x 
 
 Having adopted the Jews it was but natural that Scott should 
 turn to the Hebrew Scriptures for suggestions as to the content of 
 the Jewish consciousness, and the manner of Jewish expression. 
 Hence, in his handling of the Jews we find constant use of material 
 from the Bible. The presence of so many ecclesiastics, also, rang- 
 
 iLockhart's Life of Scott, Vol. VI., 177. 
 
xvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ing from the Grand Master to Brother Ambrose, introduces much 
 Biblical matter. As literary prototypes for Isaac and Rebecca, — 
 the Jew torn by the two passions, love of his wealth and love of his 
 only daughter, — Scott had Shylock and Jessica in The Merchant 
 of Venice and Barabas and Abigail in The Jew of Malta ; and of 
 both these plays, especially of the former, we find unmistakable 
 reminiscences. 
 
 VI. Ivanhoe and History. — The historical discrepancies and the 
 anachronisms in Ivanhoe have often been pointed out. The early 
 reviewers discovered many of them. Freeman in The Norman 
 Conquest takes pains to show that the state of things reflected in 
 Ivanhoe did not exist in the twelfth century — that there was not 
 at the time of Richard I. any opposition between the English and 
 Norman elements of the nation. It is said that the picture would 
 more nearly fit the times of William Rufus, a century earlier. 
 The student who carefully places the dates of the historical events, 
 with which the story is concerned, and who is familiar with such 
 details of them as are known to be historical, will detect for 
 himself many minor inaccuracies, such as the dislocation of dates 
 in the matter of Stamford Bridge, the history of Ulrica, the details 
 of Richard's return to England, and many other such matters. 
 
 But Scott forestalled all criticism of the story upon this ground 
 when he said, in the Dedicatory Epistle, "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 pos- 
 itively be termed modern ; but, on the other hand, it is extremely 
 probable that I have confused the manners of two or three centuries, 
 and introduced, during the reign of Richard the First, circumstances 
 appropriated to a period either considerably earlier or a good deal 
 later than that era." And it is Scott himself, who, in his hint 
 about turning to Froissart, warns us that his chivalry is the chiv- 
 alry of the fourteenth century. If, therefore, we allow these 
 inaccuracies and slips to occupy us for more than a passing mo- 
 ment, we are expending our interest upon unessential matters. 
 
 Obviously, it would be out of place in this brief and simple Intro- 
 duction to discuss those important technical matters that concern 
 
INTRODUCTION. xvii 
 
 the historical novel. But we cannot do less than say that no 
 romance — no work of art — should be regarded as a " foot-note to 
 history " and compelled to square itself with actual fact. When the 
 artist finds in history the picturesque or significant situation, or the 
 interesting personality, he may claim the liberty of using it in his 
 own setting ; provided only that he does not do sufficient violence 
 to the historic sense to overbalance and destroy the aesthetic pleasure 
 given by the new combination. We should demand of the historical 
 romance only that it make us feel the striking situation or the inter- 
 esting personality as a real living thing. And though in Ivanhoe 
 Scott has removed it from its actual setting, he has made us feel, as 
 a real situation, the bitterness and ferment amidst which English 
 and Norman united into one nation ; so living and so charming a 
 picture has he given us of the rash, adventurous, generous side of 
 Richard's nature, that it has almost crowded from our conscious- 
 ness the Richard of the historians ; and if he has compressed into 
 this one picture the chivalry of three centuries, he has made Ivan- 
 hoe the gateway to that enchanting world for the boys and girls of 
 many generations. 
 
 VII. The Structure. — The incidents group themselves about 
 three striking events — the tournament, the storming of the castle, 
 the judicial combat — one to each of the three volumes. But since 
 the action of the story takes place within ten days, and the same 
 persons and interests appear in each event, the reader receives the 
 impression of one continuous movement. 
 
 The chapters that prepare for these events and link them 
 together are Scott's opportunity for enlarging his canvas and 
 enriching his picture. In such chapters we have the picture of 
 Cedric's Hall, the meeting of the Black Knight and the Friar, the 
 several incidents that reveal the character of Isaac, the four notable 
 interviews with the captives in Torquilstone, the revelation of the 
 identity of the Black Knight and of Locksley, the funeral of 
 Athelstane. It is a rich book that can so " ornament construc- 
 tion," that can use such material in chapters whose function in 
 the structure of the story is only that of connecting important 
 events. 
 
 VIII. The Plot. — Scott never cared to construct an elaborate or 
 artificial plot. He valued story more than plot. He depended for 
 
XV111 INTRODUCTION'. 
 
 interest upon the incidents themselves, and thought little of the 
 "pattern " in which they were arranged. We may distinguish in 
 the plot of Ivanhoe three important threads. The affairs of Wilfred 
 of Ivanhoe, including the love story of Wilfred and Rowena, con- 
 stitute the central thread ; another, which forms a sort of overplot, 
 is the conspiracy of John, the disguise and adventures of Richard ; 
 the third thread, which we may call also an underplot, is made up 
 of the experiences of the Templar and Rebecca. These threads 
 are closely and skilfully interwoven by the participation of the 
 main actors in each of the threads, in the incidents and interests 
 of the others. Wilfred is the loyal friend and follower of Richard, 
 and he is also the rival of the Templar ; Rebecca is the object of the 
 Templar's persecution, while she is at the same time the lover of 
 Ivanhoe ; Robin Hood, the Friar, and Wamba, share in the action 
 of all the threads. 
 
 Though the three threads are skilfully interwoven, we con- 
 stantly feel that attention is not justly distributed among them. 
 We rightly expect the central thread of the story to receive most 
 attention and awaken most concern. But in Ivanhoe we find our- 
 selves more interested in the fortunes of Richard or of the Tem- 
 plar than in those of Wilfred ; more attracted by the nobility of 
 Rebecca than by the beauty of Rowena. The plot loses some 
 charm of proportion by the fact that the three important events 
 are of so nearly equal importance. There is no height of achieve- 
 ment upon which the mind may rest. One feels, too, that the 
 artistic unity of the plot is hurt by the several successive denoue- 
 ments : the mystery of the disguised Wilfred is cleared up early 
 in the story ; the identity of the Black Knight and of Locksley is 
 revealed at a later stage, leaving the interest to be carried forward 
 by the threatening situation of Rebecca — a sort of relay race of 
 plot interests, which one would not find in a well-organized plot. 
 
 IX. The Persons. — Every reader of Ivanhoe must agree with the 
 early reviewers that it is stronger as a story and as a pageant, than 
 as presentation of character. Scott himself says of it, "It is a 
 romance of chivalry, not of character." A person in literature is 
 interesting as a character in proportion as he shows inner growth 
 and change ; interest in character really means interest in char- 
 acter-progression. It is the novel and the realist that place 
 
INTRODUCTION. xix 
 
 emphasis upon character ; the romance and the romancer are con- 
 cerned rather with events. But a person may have significance as a 
 figure, by virtue of the position he holds in the movement of events, 
 or by reason of the dignity and importance of the institution or 
 class that he represents. Scott makes all the persons in Ivanhoe 
 interesting as figures. He exercises the romancer's right of intro- 
 ducing his people full-grown, and unalterable, of handling them, 
 not as portraits of individual and complete men, but rather as 
 types, symbols, elements of plot. As such they are all picturesque 
 and important. 
 
 Cedric is significant for us as the symbol of the vanishing order — 
 his forlorn national hope it is that gives the primal motive of the 
 story ; Wilfred, as the type of the lover, the loyal knight, the flower 
 of chivalry, the symbol of the new order ; Richard, as the type of tne 
 adventurer, the crusading prince ; the Templar, as the dissolute, 
 sceptical crusader, the representative of one of the most picturesque 
 of mediaeval institutions, the degenerate knight, and the evil prin- 
 ciple in the plot ; Robin Hood, the good outlaw, the earthly 
 Providence of the story ; De Bracy, the charming type of the Free 
 Companions — always a fascinating figure to Scott; Rowena and 
 Rebecca interesting for their beauty, and as occasions for struggle, 
 and prizes to be won - f Wamba and the Friar, as supplying the 
 comic element ; abbot, monk, Templar, Norman noble, Saxon 
 thane — each claims attention and remembrance. To the state- 
 ment that Scott makes the persons of Ivanhoe interesting only as 
 figures, we must make exception in the case of Rebecca, since she 
 reveals an important inner experience — her love of Wilfred and 
 her struggle against it give interest to her as a study in character- 
 development. So for one reason or another they are all memorable. 
 They partake of the glamour of the thrilling and noble scenes in 
 which they move ; they help to people the world of romance with 
 figures heroic, faithful, gay, beautiful. " Amo Locksley, Amo the 
 Templar," says Thackeray; and Andrew Lang adds, "And we 
 love Wamba and Gurth and Gurth's dog Fangs ; and Rebecca is 
 almost our first love among the daughters of dreams." 
 
 X. The Background. — Ivanhoe has this characteristic of all 
 great stories : from behind the activity with which the book con- 
 cerns itself we hear the hum and stir of mighty events. We feel 
 
XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 clearly the life and influence of the larger institutions whose repre- 
 sentatives came upon the stage as actors in this smaller drama ; the 
 state, behind and above the rivalry of Richard and John ; the 
 crusades, out of whose stir and enthusiasm Richard and Wilfred 
 have dropped for an hour ; the petty wars to which De Bracy's 
 condottieri troop away ; the stately chivalry, whose pomp we wit- 
 ness in these brief hours at Ashby and at Templestowe ; the Order 
 of the Templars ; the church ; the outlaw brotherhood ; the waning 
 English hopes ; the inexplicable fanaticism that persecuted the 
 Jews — from out this enormous activity emerge the thrilling action 
 and moving passions of our story. 
 
 Upon the nearer setting of his story Scott expended much pains. 
 His delight in the details of mediaeval manners, and his antiquarian 
 studies supplied him abundance of material. And there is some- 
 thing peculiarly charming in those details which give both veri- 
 similitude and enrichment to the picture. Such are the glimpses we 
 have of hall and castle and tower, of lists, of hermitage, of dun- 
 geon, of arras, of kirtle and cloak and plume and jewel. 
 
 The local setting of the action is explained by the fact that in 
 travelling from Ashby-de-la-Zouche to the valley of the Don, it was 
 necessary to pass through Sherwood Forest ; and by this passage 
 through the Forest hangs the tale. Here much of the action takes 
 place, and considering this fact, we should naturally expect to find 
 much reflection of the woods and wild nature. But as a matter of 
 fact, the forest setting is quite apart from the story. It is the world 
 of man we are concerned with ; Sherwood Forest is everywhere 
 intersected with foot-paths worn by human tread, with bridle-roads 
 that often know the hoof of knightly charger or churchly palfrey ; 
 the dingle holds the hermit's cell, the thickets are chapels for St. 
 Nicholas's clerks ; the wild goose wings the outlaw's shaft or gives 
 the Abbot a pen ; the red deer stock the hermit's larder ; only by 
 inference can we tell the season of the year — no flowers are at 
 our feet, and not a bird sings on the bough. 
 
 XI. The Style. — In the matter of style, as in so many other 
 matters that concerned his work, we find Scott quite aware both of 
 his defects and his qualities. He says, " I am sensible that if there 
 be anything good about my poetry, or prose either, it is a hurried 
 frankness of composition which pleases soldiers, sailors, and young 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxi 
 
 people of bold and active dispositions." 1 One need seek no further 
 than "hurried frankness of composition" for a phrase that ade- 
 quately distinguishes Scott's style. It is the characteristic epic 
 style, barring the grandeur ; rapid, unadorned, unimaginative, not 
 pausing for delicate phrases, sparing of figures. Scott had nothing 
 of the lyric gift. The power of introspection, of analysis, of com- 
 parison, with its accompanying delicacy and finish of expression, 
 was not his. We may say of him what Goethe so wisely said of 
 Byron, " the moment he reflects he is a child" (sobalcl er reflectirt 
 ist er ein Kind). A reader must be very young who does not smile 
 at the " Satanic" eloquence in which the Templar gives Rebecca 
 his emotional history. Luckily, there are few such passages in all 
 Scott's work ; even his verses are of the epic, ballad kind. It is 
 wise, therefore, to take the attitude of the soldiers, sailors, and 
 young people of bold and active dispositions, and enjoy Scott's 
 hurried frankness of composition as the most appropriate vehicle 
 for his subject-matter. It is seen at its best in Ivanhoe in the 
 passage describing the first encounter between Ivanhoe and the 
 Templar in the lists at Ashby. 
 
 It did not seem desirable to point out in special notes the many 
 inaccuracies and errors, grammatical and rhetorical, that may be 
 found in Ivanhoe. If the student is sensitive to such things he 
 will easily discover them ; and if he does not detect them he is 
 probably destined to be a soldier, a sailor, or some such bold and 
 active person to whom the technicalities of expression will not 
 matter. 
 
 The epic manner is not suited for dialogue. So long as the talk 
 is oratory, a formal discussion, or a series of set speeches, it goes 
 well enough. But the give and take, the quick flashes and sup- 
 pressed steps of actual conversation, fare badly in the epic style. 
 Scott's dialogues have the air of set speech. They are usually 
 overworked, being compelled to carry forward the story, and even 
 to bring up arrears of information from outside the limits of the 
 story. The most natural and skilful dialogue in Ivanhoe is that 
 in the twenty-ninth chapter between Rebecca and the wounded 
 knight. Perhaps this owes its success to the fact that its purpose 
 
 i Lockhart's Life of Scott, Vol. VIII., 370. 
 
xxii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 is quite frankly that of giving information, and that it does not 
 profess to be an exchange of ideas. 
 
 From the Dedicatory Epistle we learn that Scott had carefully 
 considered the difficulty of imparting an antique flavor to his dia- 
 logue while avoiding the absurdity of a mock-antiquated diction. 
 The compromise which he adopted — an essentially modern speech 
 strongly reminiscent of Shakespeare and King James's Bible — has 
 ever since been accepted as the proper vernacular of what Robert 
 Louis Stevenson called " Tusbery." 
 
 In descriptions of physical nature we find what we should 
 expect in Scott, — a quick but apprehensive glance at the salient 
 features of the scene. But in descriptions of buildings, dress, 
 and other appointments, the antiquarian is likely to get the better 
 of the story-teller ; and the narrative waits while he lingers lov- 
 ingly over the details that so fascinated him. This, one may 
 notice in the description of Cedric's Hall, in the preparations for 
 the tournament, but especially in the description of the castle of 
 Coningsburgh. 
 
 One does not often read a book of any kind that has in it so 
 little of the gnomic element as has Ivanhoe. Not only does Scott 
 make no comment in his own person, but we find that no person 
 in the story utters a sentence of what we may call wisdom. 
 Beyond a half-dozen of the most obvious reflections, there is not a 
 philosophic, ethical, or even practical generalization in the book. 
 In this matter Scott well-nigh achieves the complete self-effacement 
 of the folk-balladist. 
 
 In General. — Every book has a right to demand that its reader 
 meet it on its own ground. If it is worth reading at all it is worth 
 adjusting oneself to in sympathy, so as to apprehend its centre, its 
 first intention. To expect delicate character study in Ivanhoe 
 would be as unwise as to ask heroic adventures in The Vicar of 
 Wakefield, or mediaeval manners in The Last of the Mohicans. But 
 to mention the specific things that we may expect to find in Ivan- 
 hoe is not an easy task — so many and so various are its contribu- 
 tions to our joy. First, it satisfies the universal human craving for 
 a good tale, carrying us in delight from incident to incident, from 
 picture to picture, through to a satisfying close. Then it has the 
 indefinable charm of romance — giving us the freedom of a world 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXlll 
 
 " afar from the sphere of our sorrow," a dateless, unchanging world 
 always within easy reach. In Ivanhoe we breathe the sane and 
 wholesome air of a heroic simple life — the life of objective deeds 
 and sheer accomplishment. To the brave company that peoples 
 our world of dreams it adds many figures, noble, bold, beautiful, 
 gay — knights and ladies, merry-men and troubadours, pilgrim and 
 crusader, friar and jester. It touches the past with a glow of 
 poetry, lighting up situations, institutions, and men, making real 
 and rich for us those things that in the technical records seem 
 meagre and colorless. Its style gives us the refreshment of 
 writing which, though it may not be delicately correct, is also not 
 consciously fine nor painfully precise, but which moves buoyantly 
 forward without strain and without weariness. 
 
 LIST OF BOOKS. 
 
 The Life of Scott. J. G. Lockhart. (The references in this 
 volume are to the edition of 1882, A. & C. Black.) 
 
 Scott. Richard H. Hutton. (English Men of Letters.) 
 
 The Journal of Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 Familiar Letters of Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 Waverley. (Preface to the edition of 1829.) 
 
 The Antiquary. 
 
 The Monastery. 
 
 The Talisman. 
 
 English and Scottish Ballads, vol. v. F. J. Child. 
 
 Old English Ballads. Francis B. Gummere. 
 
 England under the Angevin Kings. Kate Norgate. 
 
 A Short History of the English People. J. R. Green. (All his- 
 torical references in this volume have been made to the Short His- 
 tory as probably accessible to most students.) 
 
xxiv SUGGESTED EMENDATIONS. 
 
 SUGGESTED EMENDATIONS. 
 
 Certain obvious slips of memory, or of the pen, such as " William 
 Rufus, his grandfather ," page 77, "the six hundred crowns," page 
 353, "your sire Henry" etc., have been pointed out in the notes. 
 Certain others not so obvious require special mention. They have 
 stood so long in the text, it would have seemed a sort of irreverence 
 to remove them. Therefore they are collected here. A few of 
 these which seem entirely reasonable have not been noted, so far as 
 I have been able to find, by any previous editor. 
 
 Page 12. In " Quaker beauty who while she . . . continues to give " 
 etc., for continues read contrives. (Not previously noted.) 
 
 P. 69. In "Richard de Malvoisin," for Richard read Philip. 
 
 P. 89. In " general device of his rider," for rider read Order. (Not 
 previously noted.) 
 
 P. 102. In " signs and sounds of a tumultuous concourse," for signs 
 read sights. (Not previously noted.) 
 
 P. 196. In "better than a cow-keeper," for cow-keeper read croiv- 
 keeper. See crow-keeper in the Century Dictionary and in the New 
 English Dictionary, noting the connection in the citations between 
 crow-keeping and poor archery. (Professor Perry also suggests this 
 reading.) 
 
 P. 223. In " twice-winded without the castle," for twice read thrice. 
 
 P. 266. In " and yet retain the power to prevent," for prevent read 
 repent. (Not previously noted.) 
 
 P. 402. In " Nathan ben Samuel," for Samuel read Israel. See p. 371. 
 
IVANHOE: A ROMANCE 
 
 Now fitted the halter, now traversed the cart, 
 And often took leave — but seemed loath to depart, 1 
 
 — Prior. 
 
 * This motto alludes to the Author returning to the stage 
 repeatedly after having taken leave. 
 
IVANHOE. 
 
 .- - 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Thus communed these ; while to their lowly dome 
 The full-fed swine return'd with evening home, 
 Compell'd, reluctant, to the several sties, 
 With din obstreperous and ungrateful cries. 
 
 Pope's Odyssey. 
 
 In that pleasant district of merry England which is 
 watered by the river Don, there extended in ancient times 
 a large forest, covering the greater part of the beautiful 
 hills and valleys which lie between Sheffield and the pleas- 
 ant town of Doncaster. The remains of this extensive 
 wood are still to be seen at the noble seats of Went- 
 worth, of Wharncliffe Park, and around Rotherham. 
 Here haunted pJLyore ^ ne fabulous Dragon of Wantley ; 
 here were fought many of the most desperate battles dur- 
 ing the Civil Wars of the Roses ; and here also flourished 
 in ancient times those bands of gallant outlaws whose 
 deeds have been rendered so popular in English song. 
 
 Such being our chief scene, the date of our story refers 
 to a period towards the end of the reign of llichard L, 
 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, <&*a 
 and whom the prudence of Henry the Second had scarce 
 reduced into some degree of subjection to the crown, had 
 now resumed their ancient license in its utmost extent ; 
 despising the feeble interference of the English Council 
 
 B jw~fM<^ 1 
 
2 IVANHOE. 
 
 of State, fortifying their castles, increasing the number of 
 their dependants, reducing all around them to a state of 
 vassalage, and striving by every means in their power 
 to place themselves each at the head of such forces as 
 might enable him to make a figure in the national con- 
 Yiilsions 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 Eng- 
 lish constitution, were entitled to hold themselves in- 
 dependent of feudal tyranny, became now unusually 
 precarious. If, as was most generally the case, they 
 placed themselves under the protection of any of the 
 petty kings in their vicinity, accepted of feudal offices in 
 his household, or bound themselves, by mutual treaties of 
 alliance and protection, to support him in his enterprises, 
 they might indeed purchase temporary repose ; but it must 
 be with the sacrifice of that independence which was so 
 dear to every English bosom, and at the certain hazard of 
 being involved as a party in whatever rash expedition the 
 ambition of their protector might lead him to undertake. 
 On the other hand, such and so multiplied were the means 
 of vexation and oppression possessed by the great barons, 
 that they never wanted the pretext, and seldom the will, 
 to harass and pursue, even to the very edge of destruction, 
 any of their less powerful neighbours 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 com- 
 pletely placed in the hands of the Norman nobility by the 
 event of the battle of Hastings, and it had been used, as 
 our histories assure us, with no moderate hand. The whole 
 
IVANHOE. 3 
 
 race of Saxon princes and nobles had been extirpated, or dis- 
 inherited, with few or no exceptions ; nor were the numbers 
 great who possessed land in the country of their fathers, even 
 as proprietors of the second or of yet inferior classes. The 
 royal policy had long been to weakeD, by every means, 
 legal or illegal, the strength of a part of the population 
 which was justly considered as nourishing the most in- 
 veterate antipathy to their victor. All the monarch s of 
 the Norman race had shown the most marked predilec- 
 tion 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 emu- 
 lated, 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 honour, of chivalry, and even of justice, while 
 the far more manly and expressive Anglo-Saxon was 
 abandoned to the use of rustics and hinds, who knew no 
 other. Still, however, the necessary intercourse between 
 the lords of the soil, and those oppressed inferior beings 
 by whom that soil was cultivated, occasioned the gradual 
 jl^ formation of a dialect, compounded betwixt the French 
 and the Anglo-Saxon, in which they could render them- 
 selves mutually intelligible to each other; and from this 
 necessity arose by degrees the structure of our present 
 English language, in which the speech of the victors and 
 the vanquished have been so happily blended together » 
 and which has since been so richly improved by importa 
 tions from the classical languages, and from those spoken 
 by the southern nations of Europe. 
 
 • This state of things I have thought it necessary to 
 premise for the information of the general reader, who 
 might be apt to forget that, although no great historical 
 events, such as war or insurrection, mark the existence 
 of the Anglo-Saxons as a separate people subsequent to 
 the reign of William the Second, yet the great national 
 
 
4 IVANHOE. 
 
 distinctions betwixt them and their conquerors, the recol= 
 lection of what they had formerly been, and to what they 
 were now reduced, continued, down to -the reign of Edward 
 the Third, to keep open the wounds which the Conquest 
 had inflicted, and to maintain a line of separation betwixt 
 the descendants of the victor Normans and the vanquished 
 Saxons. • 
 
 The sun was setting upon one of the rich grassy glades 
 -of that forest which we have mentioned in the begin- 
 ning of the chapter. Hundreds of broad-headed, short- 
 stemmed, wide-branched oaks, which had witnessed 
 perhaps the stately march of the Roman soldiery, flung 
 their gnarled arms over a thick carpet of the most deli- 
 cious greensward ; in some places they were intermingled 
 with beeches, hollies and copsewood of various descrip- 
 tions, so closely as totally to intercept the level beams 
 of the sinking sun ; in others they receded from each 
 other, forming those long sweeping vistas in the intricacy 
 of which the eye delights to lose itself, while imagination 
 considers them as the paths to yet wilder scenes of 
 silvan solitude. Here the red rays of the sun shot a 
 broken and discoloured light, that partially jhung upon 
 the shattered boughs and mossy trunks of the trees, and 
 there they illuminated in brilliant patches the portions 
 of turf to which they made their way. A considerable 
 open space, in the midst of this glade, seemed formerly 
 to have been dedicated to the rites of Druidical 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 jconvext.to Christianity, and 
 lay, some prostrate near their former site, and others on 
 the side of the hill. One large stone only had founcjjjfts 
 way to the bottom, and in stopping the course of a small 
 brook which glided smoothly round the foot of the emi- 
 nence, gave, by its opposition, a feeble voice of murmur 
 to the placid and elsewhere silent streamlet. 
 
 The human figures which completed this landscape 
 
IVANHOE. 5 
 
 were in number two, partaking, in their dress and appear- 
 ance, of that wild and rustic character which belonged 
 to the woodlands of the West Riding of Yorkshire at 
 that early period. The eldest of these men had a stern, 
 savage, and wild aspect. His garment was of the simplest 
 form imaginable, being a close jacket with sleeves, com- 
 posed of the tanned skin of some animal, on which the 
 hair had been originally left, but which had been worn 
 off in so many places that it would have been difficult to 
 distinguish, from the patches that remained, to what * 
 creature the fur had belonged. This primeval vestment 
 reached from the throat to the knees, and served at once 
 all the usual purposes of body-clothing ; there was no 
 wider opening at the collar than was necessary to admit 
 the passage of the head, from which it may be inferred 
 that it was put on by slipping it over the head and 
 shoulders, in the manner of a modern shirt, or ancient 
 hauberk. Sandals, bound with thongs made of boar's 
 hide, protected the feet, and a roll of thin leather was 
 twined artificially round the legs, and, ascending above 
 the calf, left the knees bare, like those of a Scottish High- 
 lander. To make the jacket sit yet more close to the body, 
 it was gathered at the middle by a broad leathern belt, 
 secured by a brass buckle; to one side of which was 
 attached a sort of scrip, and to the other a ram's horn, 
 accoutred with a mouthpiece, for the purpose of blowing. 
 In the same belt was stuck one of those long, broad, 
 sharp-pointed, and two-edged knives, with a buck's-horn 
 handle, which were fabricated in the neighbourhood, and 
 bore even at this early period the name of a Sheffield 
 ywhittle. 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 colour, 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 
 
 • , 
 
6 IVANHOE. 
 
 as to be incapable of being removed, excepting by the 
 use of the file. On this singular gorget was engraved, in 
 Saxon characters, an inscription of the followingjpurport : 
 " G-urth, the son of Beowulph, is the born thrall of Cedric 
 of Rotherwood." 
 
 Beside the swineherd, for such was G-urth'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 descrip- 
 tion. His jacket had been stained of a bright purple 
 hue, upon which there had been some attempt to paint 
 grotesque ornaments in different colours. To the jacket 
 he added a short cloak, which scarcely reached half-way 
 down his thigh ; it was of crimson cloth, though a good 
 deal soiled, lined with bright yellow; and as he could 
 transfer it from one shoulder to the other, or at his 
 pleasure draw it all around him, its width, contrasted 
 with its want of longitude, formed a fantastic piece of 
 drapery. He had thin silver bracelets upon his arms, 
 and on his neck a collar of the same metal, bearing the 
 inscription, " Wamba, the son of Witless, is the thrall of 
 Cedric of Rotherwood." This personage had the same 
 sort of sandals with his companion, but instead of the 
 roll of leather thong, his legs were cased in a sort of 
 gaiters, of which one was red and the other yellow. He 
 was provided also with a cap, having around it more than 
 one bell, about the size of those attached to 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 night-cap, 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 circum- 
 stance, 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 
 
fit* 
 
 IVANHOE. 7 
 
 domestic clowns or jesters, maintained in the houses 
 of the wealthy, to help away the tedium of those linger- 
 ing hours which they were obliged to spend within 
 doors. He bore, like his companion, a scrip attached 
 to his belt, but had neither horn nor knife, being proba- 
 bly considered as belonging to a class whom it is es- 
 teemed dangerous to entrust with edge-tools. In place 
 of these, he was equipped with a sword of lath, resem- i 
 bling that with which Harlequin operates his wonders 
 upon the modern stage. 
 
 The outward appearance of those two men formed 
 scarce a stronger contrast than their look and demeanour. 
 That of the serf, or bondsman, was sad and sullen ; his 
 aspect was bent on the ground with an air of deep de- 
 jection, which might be almost construed into apathy, 
 had not the fire which occasionally sparkled in his red 
 eye manifested that there slumbered, under the appear- 
 ance of sullen despondency; a sense of oppression, and a 
 disposition to resistance. The looks of Wamba, on the 
 other hand, indicated, as usual with his class, a sort of 
 vacant curiosity, and fidgety impatience of any posture 
 of repose, together with the utmost self-satisfaction re- 
 specting 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 per- 
 sonal dependants 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 following translation : 
 
 "The curse of St. Withold upon these infernal pork- 
 ers!" said the swineherd, after blowing his horn obstrep- 
 erously, 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 
 
8 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 
 ranger of the forest, that cuts the fore-claws off our dogs, 
 and makes them unfit for their 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 gently as so many innocent lambs." 
 
 " Truly," said Wamba, without stirring from the spot, 
 "I have consulted my legs upon this matter, and they 
 are altogether of opinion that to carry my gay garments 
 through these sloughs would be an act of unfriendship 
 to my sovereign person and royal wardrobe ; wherefore, 
 Gurth, I advise thee to call off Fangs, and leave the herd 
 to their destiny, which, whether they meet with bands of 
 travelling soldiers, or of, outlaws, or of wandering pil- 
 grims, can be little else than to be converted into Nor- 
 mans before morning, 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 
 quartered, and hung up by the heels, like a traitor ? " 
 
 " Pork," answered the swineherd. 
 
IVANHOE. 9 
 
 " I am very glad every fool knows that too," said 
 Wamba, " and pork, I think, is good Norman-French ; 
 and so when the brute lives, and is in the charge of a 
 Saxon slave, she goes by her Saxon name ; but becomes 
 a Norman, and is called pork, when she is carried to the 
 castle hall to feast among the nobles. What dost thou 
 think of this, friend Gurth, ha ? " 
 
 "It is but too true doctrine, friend Wamba, however 
 it got into thy fool's pate.'.' 
 
 "Nay, I can tell you more," said Wamba in the same 
 tone : " there is 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. Mynherr Calf, 
 too, becomes Monsieur 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 hesita- 
 tion, 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 
 unfortunate Saxon. God's blessing on our Master Cedric, 
 he hath done the work of a man in standing in the gap ; 
 but Reginald Front-de-Boeuf is coming down to this coun- 
 try 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 swineherd ; 
 
10 IV AN HOE. 
 
 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. — Bat soft, whom have we here ? " he said, listen- 
 ing to the trampling 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 endeavoured to describe. 
 
 " Nay, bat I must see the riders," answered Wamba ; 
 " perhaps they are come from Fairyland 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 
 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 
 accompanied his companion, who began his journey after 
 catching up a long quarter-staff which lay upon the grass 
 beside him. This second Eumaeus strode hastily down 
 the forest glade, driving before him, with the assistance 
 of Fangs, the whole herd of his inharmonious charge. 
 
IV AN HOE. 11 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A monk there was, a fay re for the uiaistrie, 
 An outrider that loved venerie ; 
 A manly man, to be an abbot able, 
 Full many a daintie horse had he in stable. 
 And whan he rode, men might his bridle hear 
 Giugeling in a whistling wind as clear, 
 And eke as loud, as doth the chapell bell, 
 There as this lord was keeper of the cell. 
 
 Chaucer. 
 
 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 
 duster of half-ripe nuts, and now turning his 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 
 composed of materials much finer than those which the 
 rule of that order admitted. His mantle and hood were 
 of the best Flanders cloth, and fell in ample, and not un- 
 graceful, folds around a handsome though somewhat cor- 
 pulent person. His countenance bore as little the marks 
 of self-denial as his habit indicated contempt of worldly 
 splendour. 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 volup- 
 tuary. In other respects, his profession and situation had 
 taught him a ready command over his countenance, which 
 he could contract at pleasure into solemnity, although its 
 natural expression was that of good-humoured social in- 
 dulgence. In defiance of conventual rules and the edicts 
 of popes and councils, the sleeves of this dignitary were 
 
12 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 re- 
 tains the garb and costume of her sect, continues to give 
 to its simplicity, by the choice of materials and the mode 
 of disposing them, a certain air of coquettish attraction 
 savouring but too much of the vanities of the world. 
 
 This worthy churchman rode upon a well-fed ambling 
 mule, whose furniture was highly decorated, and whose 
 bridle, according to the fashion of the day, was orna- 
 mented with silver bells. In his seat he had nothing of 
 the awkwardness of the convent, but displayed the easy 
 and habitual grace of a well-trained horseman. Indeed, it 
 seemed that so humble a conveyance as a mule, in how- 
 ever good case, and however well broken to a -pleasant 
 and accommodating amble, was only used by the gallant 
 Monk for travelling on the road. A lay brother, one of 
 those who followed in the train, had, for his use on other 
 occasions, one of the most handsome Spanish jennets ever 
 bred in Andalusia, 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 palfrey were covered by a long foot-cloth, 
 which reached nearly to the ground, and on which were 
 richly embroidered mitres, 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, in 
 which long fatigue and constant exercise seemed to have 
 left none of the softer part of the human form, having re- 
 duced the whole to brawn, bones, and sinews, which had 
 sustained a thousand toils, and were ready to dare a thou- 
 sand more. His head was covered with a scarlet cap, 
 faced with fur, of that kind which the French call^mg^&k^ 
 from its resemblance to the shape of an inverted mortar. 
 
 I 
 
IVANHOE. 13 
 
 His countenance was therefore fully displayed, and its 
 expression was calculated to impress a degree of awe, if 
 not of fear, upon strangers. High features, naturally 
 strong and powerfully expressive, had been burnt almost 
 into Negro blackness by constant exposure to the tropical 
 sun, and might, in their ordinary state, be said to slumber 
 after the storm of passion had passed away ; but the projec- 
 tion of the veins of the forehead, the readiness with which 
 the upper lip and its thick black moustaches quivered upon 
 the slightest emotion, plainly intimated that the tempest 
 might be again and easily awakened. His keen, piercing, 
 dark eyes told in every glance a history of difficulties subdued 
 and dangers dared, and seemed to challenge opposition to 
 his wishes, for the pleasure of sweeping it from his road by a 
 determined exertion of courage and of will ; a deep scar 
 on his brow gave additional sternness to his countenance 
 and a sinister expression to one of his eyes, which had 
 been slightly injured on the same occasion, and of which 
 the vision, though perfect, was in a slight and partial 
 degree distorted. 
 
 The upper dress of this personage resembled that of 
 his companion in shape, being a long monastic mantle ; 
 but the colour being scarlet, showed that he did not belong 
 to any of the four regular orders of monks. On the right 
 shoulder of the mantle there was cut, in white cloth, a 
 cross of a peculiar form. This upper robe concealed what 
 at first view seemed rather inconsistent wi£h 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 jire 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 armour. 
 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 
 
14 IVANHOE. 
 
 hackney for the road, to save his gallant war-horse, which 
 a squire led behind, fully accoutred 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-axe richly inlaid with Damas- 
 cene 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 pre- 
 vented 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 latter were naked from the elbow, and 
 the former from mid-leg to ankle, ... Silk and embroidery 
 distinguished their dresses, and marked the wealth and 
 importance of their master ; forming, at the same time, a 
 striking contrast with th*e martial simplicity of his own 
 attire. They were armed with crooked sabres, having 
 the hilt and baldric inlaid with gold, and matched with 
 Turkish daggers of yet more costly workmanship. Each 
 of them bore at his saddle-bow a bundle of darts or 
 javelins, about four feet in length, having sharp steel 
 heads, a weapon much in use among the Saracens, and of 
 which the memory is yet preserved in the martial exercise 
 called El Jerrid, still practised 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 
 
IVANHOE. 15 
 
 motion, formed a marked contrast with the large-jointed 
 heavy horses, of which the race was cultivated in Flanders 
 and in Normandy for mounting the men-at-arms of the 
 period in all the _panoply of plate and mail, and which, 
 placed by the side of those Eastern coursers, might have 
 passed for a personification of substance and of shadow. 
 
 The singular appearance of this cavalcade not only 
 attracted the curiosity of Wamba, but excited even that 
 of his less volatile companion. The monk he instantly /, 
 knew to be 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 pleas- 
 ures 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 
 neighbourhood of his abbey. His free andjovial temper, 
 and the readiness with which he granted absolution from 
 all ordinary delinquencies, rendered him a favourite 
 among the nobility and principal gentry, to several of 
 whom he was allied by birth, being of a distinguished 
 Norman family. The ladies, in particular, were not dis- 
 posed to scan too nicely the morals of a man who was 
 a professed admirer of their sex, and who possessed many 
 means of dispelling the ennui which was too apt to 
 intrude upon the halls and bowers of an ancient feudal 
 castle. The Prior mingled in the sports of the field with 
 more than due eagerness, and was allowed to possess the 
 best-trained hawks and the fleetest greyhounds in the 
 North Hiding — circumstances which strongly recom- 
 mended him to the youthful gentry. With the old he 
 had another part to play, which, when needful, he could 
 sustain with great .decorum. His knowledge of books, 
 however superficial, was sufficient to impress upon their 
 ignorance respect for his supposed learning ; and the 
 gravity of his deportment and language, with the high 
 tone which he exerted in setting forth the authority of 
 the church and of the priesthood, impressed them no less 
 with an opinion of his sanctity. Even the common 
 people, the severest critics of the conduct of their betters, 
 
16 1VANH0E. 
 
 J 
 
 I 
 
 
 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 revenues of the 
 monastery, of which a large part was at his disposal, while 
 they gave him the means of supplying his own very con- 
 siderable expenses, afforded also those largesses which 
 he bestowed among the peasantry, and with which he 
 frequently relieved the distresses of the oppressed. 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 irregularities by recol- 
 lecting that the same were practised by many of his 
 brethren who had no redeeming qualities whatsoever to 
 atone for them. Prior Aymer, therefore, and his charac- 
 ter, were well known to our Saxon serfs, who made their 
 rude obeisance, and received his " Bejiedicite, mes Jils" 
 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 harbourage in the vicinity ; so much 
 were they surprised at the half-monastic, half-military 
 appearance of the swarthy stranger, and at the uncouth 
 dress and arms of his Eastern attendants. It is probable, 
 too, that the language in which the benediction was con- 
 ferred, and the information asked, sounded ungracious, 
 though not probably unintelligible, in the ears of the 
 Saxon peasants. 
 
 " I asked you, my children," said the Prior, raising his 
 voice, and using the lingua Franca, or mixed language, in 
 which the Norman and Saxon races conversed with each 
 other, " if there be in this neighbourhood any good man 
 who, for the love of God and devotion to Mother Church, 
 will give two of her humblest servants, with their train, 
 a night's hospitality and refreshment ? " 
 
IVANHOE. 17 
 
 This he spoke with a tone of conscious importance, 
 which formed a strong contrast to the modest terms 
 which he thought it proper to employ. 
 
 " Two of the humblest servants of Mother Church ! " 
 repeated Wamba to himself, but, fool as he was, taking 
 care not to make his observation audible ; " I should like 
 to see her seneschals, her chief butlers, and her other 
 principal domestics ! " 
 
 After this internal commentary on the Prior's speech, 
 he raised his eyes and replied to the question which had 
 been put. 
 
 " If the reverend fathers," he said, " loved good cheer 
 and soft lodging, few miles of riding would carry them 
 to the Priory of Brinxworth, where their quality could 
 not but secure them the most honourable reception ; or if 
 they preferred spending a penitential evening, they might 
 turn down yonder wild glade, which would bring them to 
 the hermitage of Copmanhurst, where a pious anchoret 
 would make them sharers for the night of the shelter of 
 his roof and the benefit of his prayers." 
 
 The Prior shook his head at both proposals. 
 
 " Mine honest friend," said he, " if the jangling of thy 
 bells had not dizzied thine understanding, thou mightst 
 know Clericas clericum non decimat; that is to say, we 
 churchmen do not exhaust each other's hospitality, but 
 rather require that of the laity, giving them thus an 
 opportunity to serve God in honouring and relieving His 
 appointed servants." 
 
 " It is true," replied Wamba, " that I, being but an ass, 
 am, nevertheless, honoured to bear the bells as well as 
 your reverence's mule ; notwithstanding, I did 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 
 
 call'd you your Franklin, Prior Aymer ? " 
 
 " Cedric," answered the Prior ; " Cedric the Saxon. — 
 Tell me, good fellow, are we near his dwelling, and can 
 you show us the road ? " 
 c 
 
18 IVANHOE. 
 
 "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 
 travellers such as we are, who will not_stoop to beg the 
 hospitality which we have a right to command." 
 
 " I know not," said Gurth, sullenly, " if I should show 
 the way to my master's house to those who demand as a 
 right the shelter which most are fain to ask as a favour." 
 
 "Do you dispute with me, slave!" said the soldier; 
 and, setting spurs to his horse, he caused him 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 
 chastising what he considered as the insolence of the 
 peasant. -fi^ 
 
 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 betwixt his companion and the 
 swineherd, prevented the meditated violence. 
 
 "Nay, by St. Mary, brother Brian, you must not think 
 you are now in Palestine, predominating over heathen 
 Turks and infidel Saracens ; we islanders love not blows, 
 save those of Holy Church, who chasteneth whom she 
 loveth. — Tell me, good fellow," said he to Wamba, and 
 seconded his speech by a small piece of silver coin, " the 
 way to Cedric the Saxon's ; you cannot be ignorant of it, 
 and it is your duty to direct the wanderer even when his 
 character is less sanctified than ours." 
 
 " In truth, venerable father," answered the Jester, " the 
 Saracen head of your right reverend companion has 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 en- 
 gaged 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." 
 

 
IVAN-HOE. 19 
 
 "If he is but half a monk/' said the Jester, "he 
 should not be wholly unreasonable with those whom he 
 meets upon the road, even if they should be in no hurry 
 to answer questions that no way concern them." 
 
 " I forgive thy wit," replied the Abbot, " on condition 
 thou wilt show me the way to Cedrie'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 
 shelter before the storm comes on." 
 
 The Abbot thanked his sage adviser; and the caval- 
 cade, 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 
 companion, " If they follow thy wise direction, the rev- 
 erend fathers will hardly reach Rotherwood this night." 
 
 " No," said the Jester, grinning, " but they may reach 
 Sheffield if they have good luck, and that is as fit a place 
 for them. I am not so bad a woodsman as to show the 
 dog where the deer lies, if I have no mind he should 
 chase him." 
 
 " Thou art right," said Gurth ; " it were ill that Aymer 
 saw the Lady Rowena; and it were worse, it may be, 
 for Cedric to quarrel, as is most likely he would, with 
 this military monk. But, like good servants, let us hear 
 and see, and say nothing." 
 
 We return to the riders, who had soon left the 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 Cistercian, " 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 
 
20 IV AN HOE. 
 
 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 
 himself could have been ; yet two months in my house- 
 hold, under the management of my master of the slaves, 
 has made them humble, submissive, serviceable, and ob- 
 servant of your will. Marry, sir, you must beware of 
 the poison and the dagger ; for they use either with free 
 will when you give them the slightest opportunity." 
 
 " Ay, but," answered Prior Aymer, " every land has 
 its own manners and fashions ; and, besides that beating 
 this fellow could procur^ us no information respecting 
 the road to Cedric's house, it would have been sure to 
 have established a quarrel betwixt you and him had we 
 found our way thither. Remember what I told you; 
 this wealthy Franklin is proud, fierce, jealous, and irri- 
 table, a withstander of the nobility, and even of his 
 neighbours, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf and Philip Mal- 
 voisin, who are no babes to strive with. He stands up 
 so sternly for the privileges of his race, and is so proud 
 of his uninterrupted descent from Hereward, a renowned 
 champion of the Heptarchy, that he is universally called 
 Cedric the Saxon ; and makes a boast of his belonging 
 to a people from whom many others endeavour to hide 
 their descent, lest they should encounter a share of the 
 fx' woe 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 troubadour in all matters concerning the arrets of 
 love ; but I shall expect much beauty in this celebrated 
 Rowena, to counter-balance the self-denial and for- 
 bearance which I must exert if I am to court the favour 
 of such a seditious churl as you have described her 
 father Cedric." f*/l 
 
IVANHOE. 21 
 
 " Cedric is not her father." replied the Prior, " and is p 
 but of remote relation ; ^shg is descended from higher [ 
 blood than even he pretends to, and is bnt distantly con- 
 nected with him by birth. Her guardian, however, he 
 is, self-constituted as I believe ; but his ward is as dear 
 to him as if she were his own child. Of her beauty you 
 shall soon be judge ; and if the purity of her complexion, 
 and the majestic yet soft expression of a mild blue eye, 
 do not chase from your memory the black -tressed girls 
 of Palestine, ay, or the houris of old Mahound's paradise, 
 I am an infidel and no true son of the church. %it/\y ' 
 
 " Should your boasted beauty," said the Templar, " be 
 weighed in the balance and found wanting, you know 
 our wager ? " 
 
 "My gold collar," answered the Prior, "against ten 
 butts of 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 I am only to be convicted on my own admission 
 that I have seen no maiden so beautiful since Pentecost 
 was a twelve-month. Ran it not so? — Prior, your collar 
 is in danger ; I will wear it over my gorget in the lists 
 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 offence — is a man who, without respect to your 
 knighthood, my high office, or the sanctity of either, would 
 clear his house of us, and send us to lodge with the larks, 
 though the hour were midnight. And be careful how 
 you look on Eowena, whom he cherishes with the most 
 jealous care ; an he take the least alarm in that quarter 
 we are but lost men. It is said he banished his only 
 son from his family for lifting his eyes in the way of 
 affection towards this beauty, who may be worshipped, 
 
22 IVANHOE. 
 
 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, vou have said enough," answered the Templar ; 
 " I will lor 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 Hamet and Abdalla, will warrant you against that 
 disgrace. Doubt not that we shall be strong enough 
 to make good our quarters." 
 
 " We must not let it come so far," answered the Prior. 
 " But here is the clown's sunken cross, and the night is 
 so dark that we can hardly see which of the roads we 
 are to follow. He bid us turn, I think, to the left." 
 
 " To the right," said Brian, " to the best of my remem- 
 brance." 
 
 "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. 
 « Each maintained his opinion with sufficient obstinacy, 
 a is usual in all such cases ; the attendants were appealed 
 t M but they had not been near enough to hear Wamba's 
 dii actions. 
 
 .Vo 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 discour- 
 teous in you to disturb my thoughts." 
 
 " We did but wish to ask you,"' said the Prior, " the 
 road to Rotherwood, the abode of Cedric the Saxon." 
 
 "I myself am bound thither," replied the stranger; 
 "and if I had a horse I would be your guide, for the 
 way is somewhat intricate, though perfectly well known 
 to me." 
 
 " Thou shalt have both thanks and reward, my friend," 
 said the Prior, " if thou wilt bring us to Cedric's in 
 safety." 
 
IVANHOE. 23 
 
 And he caused one of his attendants to mount his own 
 led horse, and give that upon which he had hitherto rid- 
 den 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 mis- 
 leading them. The path soon led deeper into the wood- 
 land, 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 safely into a wider avenue than any they had 
 yet seen ; and, pointing to a large, low, irregular building 
 at the upper extremity, he said to the Prior, " Fonder 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," is 
 
 the answer. *r-*\l/- 
 
 " You had better have tarried there to fight I ■ the 
 recovery of the Holy Sepulchre," said the Tempi.' 
 
 " True, Reverend Sir Knight," answered the aimer, 
 to whom the appearance of the Templar seemed perfectly 
 familiar ; " but when those who are under oath to recover 
 the holy city are found travelling 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 
 astonishment 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 they stood before the 
 
24 IVANHOE. 
 
 mansion of Cedric — a low, irregular building, containing 
 several courtyards or inclosures, extending over a con- 
 siderable space of ground, and which, though its size 
 f [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. 
 
 E-otherwood was not, however, without defences ; no 
 habitation, in that disturbed period, could have been so, 
 without the risk of being plundered and burnt before the 
 next morning. A deep fosse, or ditch, was drawn round 
 v \he whole building, and filled with water from a neigh- 
 bouring stream. A double stockade, or palisade, composed 
 of pointed beams, which the adjacent forest supplied, 
 defended the outer and inner bank of the trench. There 
 was an entrance from the west through the outer stockade, 
 which communicated by a drawbridge with a similar open- 
 ing in the interior defences. " 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 archers or slingers. 
 
 Before this entrance the Templar wound his horn 
 loudly ; for the rain, which had long threatened, began 
 now to descend with great violence. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Then (sad relief !) from the bleak coast that hears 
 The German Ocean roar, deep-hlooming, strong, 
 And yellow-hair' d, the blue-eyed Saxon came. 
 
 Thomson's Liberty. 
 
 In 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 pre- 
 pared for the evening meal of Cedric the Saxon. The 
 roof, composed of Yearns and rafters, had nothing to 
 
IVANHOE. 25 
 
 divide the apartment from the sky excepting the planking 
 and thatch ; there was a huge fireplace at either end of 
 the hall, but, as the chimneys were constructed in a very 
 clumsy manner, at least as much of the smoke found its 
 way into the apartment as escaped by the proper vent. 
 The constant vapour which this occasioned had polished 
 the rafters and beams of the low-browed hall, by encrust- 
 ing them with a black varnish of soot. On the sides of 
 the apartment hung implements 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 mem- 
 bers of the family and visitors of distinction. For this 
 purpose, a table richly covered with scarlet cloth was 
 placed transversely across the platform, from the middle 
 of which ran the longer and lower board, at which the 
 domestics and inferior persons fed, down towards the 
 bottom of the hall. The whole resembled the form of 
 the letter X, or some of those ancient dinner-tables which, 
 arranged on the same principles, may be still seen in the 
 antique Colleges of Oxford or Cambridge. Massive chairs 
 «k and settles of carved oak were placed upon the dais, and 
 ' over these seats and the more elevated table was fastened 
 " a canopy^pf cloth, which served in some degree to protect -> 
 the dignitaries who occupied that distinguished station 
 from the weather, and especially from the rain, which in 
 some places found its way through the ill-constructed 
 roof. 
 
 The walls of this upper end of the hall, as far as the 
 dais extended, were covered with hangings or curtains, 
 and upon the floor there was a carpet, both of which were 
 adorned with some attempts at tapestry or embroidery, 
 executed with brilliant, or rather gaudy, colouring. Over 
 
 
26 IVANHOE. 
 
 the lower range of table, the roof, as we noticed, had no 
 covering ; the rough plastered walls were left bare, and 
 the rude earthen floor was uncarpeted ; the board was 
 uncovered by a cloth, and rude massive benches supplied 
 the place of chairs. 
 
 In the centre of the upper table were placed two chairs 
 more elevated than the rest, for the master and mistress 
 of the family, who presided over the scene of hospitality, 
 and from doing so derived their Saxon title of honour, 
 which signifies " the Dividers of 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 tnese 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 misrht 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 
 expressive of that sort of good humour which often lodges 
 with a sudden and hasty temper. Pride and jealousy 
 there was in his eye, for his life had been spent in assert- 
 ing 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 di- 
 vided on the top of his head and upon his brow, and 
 combed down on each side to the length of his shoulders ; 
 it had but little tendency to grey, although Cedric was 
 approaching to his sixtieth year. 
 
 His dress was a tunic of forest green, furred at the 
 throat and cuffs with what was called minever — a kind 
 of fur inferior in quality to ermine, and formed, it is 
 believed, of the skin of the grey squirrel. This doublet 
 
IVANHOE. A , 27 
 
 iiimg unbuttoned over a close dress of scarlet which sate 
 tight to his body ; he had breeches of the same, but they 
 did not reach below the lower part of the thigh, leaving 
 the knee exposed. His feet had sandals of the same 
 fashion with the peasants, but of finer materials, and 
 secured in the front with golden clasps. He had brace- 
 lets of gold upon his arms, and a broad collar of the same ' i 
 precious metal around his neck. About his waist he 
 wore a richly studded belt, in which was stuck a short, 
 straight, two-edged sword, with a sharp point, so disposed 
 as to hang almost perpendicularly by his side. Behind 
 his seat was hung a scarlet cloth cloak lined with fur, 
 and a cap of the same materials, richly embroidered, which 
 completed the dress of the opulent landholder when he 
 chose to go forth. A short boar-spear, with a broad and 
 bright steel head, also reclined against the back of his 
 chair, which served him, when he walked abroad, for the 
 purpose of a staff or of a weapon, as chance might require. 
 Several domestics, whose dress held various propor- 
 tions between 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 differ- 
 ent description : two or three large and shaggy grey- 
 hounds, 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 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 probably of a small white truncheon 
 which lay by Cedric's trencher, for the purpose of re- 
 pelling the advances of his four-legged dependants. One 
 ^grisly old wolf-dog alone, with the liberty of an indulged 
 favourite, 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 
 
28 IVANHOE. 
 
 his nose into his hand. Even he was repelled by the 
 stern command, " Down, Balder, down ! I am not in the 
 humour 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 were as yet no 
 tidings of G-urth and his charge, which should long since 
 have been driven home from the forest ; and such was the 
 insecurity of the period as to render it probable that the 
 delay might be explained by some depredation of the out- >j 
 laws, with whom the adjacent forest abounded, or by the 
 violence of some neighbouring baron, whose consciousness 
 of strength made him equally negligent of the laws of 
 property. The matter was of consequence, for great 
 part of the domestic wealth of the Saxon proprietors 
 consisted in numerous herds of swine, especially in forest 
 land, where those animals easily found their food. 
 
 Besides these subjects of anxiety, the Saxon thane was 
 impatient for the presence of his favourite 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 accompany- 
 ing 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 cupbearer, 
 who offered him from time to time, as a sedative, a sil- 
 ver goblet filled with wine — " Why tarries the Lady 
 Rowena ? " 
 
 " She is but changing her head-gear/' replied a female 
 attendant, with as much confidence as the favourite lady's 
 maid usually answers the master of a modern family ; 
 "you would not wish her to sit down to the banquet in 
 her hood and kirtle ? and no lady within the shire can 
 be quicker in arraying herself than my mistress." 
 
 This undeniable argument produced a sort of acqui- 
 
IVANHOE. 29 
 
 escent " 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 adArwJ- 
 channel into which he might divert his indignation with- trrj 
 out fear of control — " 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 some- 
 thing better ; perchance I might even have made him 
 one of my warders." 
 
 Oswald, the cupbearer, modestly suggested, " That it 
 was scarce an hour since the tolling of the curfew " — an 
 ill-chosen apology, since it turned upon a topic so harsh 
 to Saxon ears. 
 
 " The foul fiend," exclaimed Cedric, " take the curfew- 
 bell, and the tyrannical bastard by whom it was devised, 
 and the heartless slave who names it with a Saxon tongue 
 to a Saxon ear ! The curfew ! " he added, pausing — " ay, 
 the curfew, which compels true men to extinguish their 
 lights, that thieves and robbers may work their deeds in 
 darkness ! Ay, the curfew ! Reginald 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 and robbery. My faithful slave is murdered, 
 and my goods are taken for a prey — and Wamba — f-< 
 where is Wamba ? Said 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. Fools 
 are we all indeed that serve them, and fitter subjects for 
 their scorn and laughter than if we were born with but 
 half our wits. But I will be avenged," he added, start- 
 ing from his chair in impatience at the supposed injury, 
 and catching hold of his boar-spear ; " I will go with my 
 
30 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 ex- 
 claimed 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 tem- 
 pest ! " The reflection seemed to conjure into sadness his 
 irritated feelings. Replacing his javelin, he resumed his 
 seat, bent his looks downward, and appeared to be ab- 
 sorbed in melancholy reflection. 
 
 From his musing Cedric was suddenly awakened by the 
 blast of a horn, which was replied to by the clamorous 
 yells and barking of all the dogs in the hall, and some 
 twenty or thirty which were quartered in other parts of 
 the building. It cost some exercise of the white truncheon, 
 well seconded by the exertions of the domestics, to silence 
 this canine clamour. 
 
 " 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." 
 
 Returning in less than three minutes, a warder an- 
 nounced, "That the Prior Aymer of Jorvaulx, and the 
 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 far from Ashby-de-la-Zouche on the second 
 day from the present." 
 
 " Aymer — the Prior Aymer ! Brian de Bois-Guil- 
 bert ! " muttered Cedric — " Normans both ; but Norman 
 or Saxon, the hospitality of Rotherwood must not be 
 impeached: thev are welcome, since they have chosen to 
 
 7 
 
 
IVANHOE. 31 
 
 halt — more welcome would they have been to have ridden 
 further on their way. But it were unworthy to murmur 
 for a night's lodging and a night's food ; in the quality 
 of guests, at least, even Normans must suppress their 
 insolence. — Go, Hundebert," he added, to a sort of major- 
 domo who stood behind him with a white wand ; " take 
 ~six of the attendants and introduce the strangers to the 
 guests' lodging. Look after their horses and mules, and 
 see their train lack nothing. Let them have change of 
 "*? vestments if they require it, and fire, and water to wash, 
 . and wine and ale ; and bid the cooks add what they 
 hastily can to our evening meal ; and let it be put on the 
 board when those strangers are ready to share it. Say 
 to them, 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 shown at once his poverty and 
 his .avarice."-- & ty x jL* 
 
 The major-domo departed with several attendants to 
 execute his master's commands. " The Prior Aymer ! " 
 repeated Cedric, looking to Oswald, "the brother, if I 
 mistake not, of Giles de Mauleverer, now lord of Middle- 
 ham ? " 
 
 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 Nor- 
 man lord doth not the same ? This Prior, is, they say, a 
 free and pvial priest, who loves the 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- 
 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 to 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 
 
32 IVANHOE. 
 
 vices — pride, arrogance, cruelty, and voluptuousness — 
 a hard-hearted man, who knows neither fear of earth nor 
 awe of heaven. So say the few warriors who have 
 returned from Palestine. — Well, it is but for one night ; 
 he shall be welcome too. Oswald, broach the oldest 
 wine-cask ; place the best mead, the mightiest ale, the 
 richest morat, the most sparkling cider, the most 
 odoriferous pigments upon the board ; fill the largest 
 horns — Templars and Abbots love good wines and good 
 measure. — Elgitha, let thy Lady Rowena know we shall 
 not this night expect her in the hall, unless such be her 
 especial pleasure." 
 
 "But it will be her especial pleasure," answered 
 Elgitha, with great readiness, " for she is ever desirous 
 to hear the latest news from Palestine." 
 
 Cedric darted at the forward damsel a glance of hasty 
 resentment ; but Rowena and whatever belonged to her 
 were privileged, and secure from his anger. He only 
 replied, " Silence, maiden ; thy tongue outruns thy dis- 
 cretion. Say my message to thy mistress, and let her do 
 her pleasure. Here, at least, the descendant of Alfred 
 still reigns a princess." 
 
 Elgitha left the apartment. 
 
 " Palestine ! " repeated the Saxon ; " Palestine ! how 
 many ears are turned to the tales which dissolute cru- 
 saders or hypocritical pilgrims bring from that fatal 
 land ! I too might ask — I too might inquire — I too 
 might listen with a beating heart to fables which the wily 
 strollers devise to cheat us into hospitality ; but no — the 
 son who has disobeyed me is no longer mine ; nor will 
 I concern myself more for his fate than for that of the 
 most worthless among the millions that ever shaped the 
 cross on their shoulder, rushed into excess and blood-guilt- 
 iness, and called it an accomplishment of the will of Obd." 
 
 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 
 blazing 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 crown'd. 
 
 • •••*• 
 
 Disposed apart, Ulysses shares the treat ; 
 A trivet table and ignobler seat. 
 The Prince assigns — 
 
 Odyssey, Book XX. 
 
 The Prior Aymer had taken the opportunity afforded 
 him of changing his riding robe for one of yet more 
 costty materials, over which he wore a_cope curiously em- 
 broidered. 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 
 exchanged his shirt of mail for an under tunic of dark 
 purple silk, garnished with furs, over which flowed his 
 long robe of spotless white in ample folds. The eight - 
 pointed cross of his order was cut on the shoulder of his 
 mantle in black velvet. The high cap no longer invested 
 his brows, which w r ere only shaded by short and thick 
 curled hair of a raven blackness, corresponding to his 
 unusually swarf complexion. Nothing could be more 
 gracefully majestic than his step and manner, had they 
 not been marked by a predominant air of haughtiness, 
 easily acquired by the exercise of unresisted authority. 
 
 These two dignified persons were followed by their 
 respective attendants, and at a more humble distance by 
 their guide, whose figure had nothing more remarkable 
 
( 
 
 34 IVANHOE. 
 
 than it derived from the usual weeds of a pilgrim. A 
 cloak or mantle of coarse black serge enveloped his whole 
 body. It was in shape something like the cloak of a 
 modern hussar, having similar flaps for covering the 
 arms, and was called a 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 sufficient 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 in drying his garments, until 
 the retreat of some one should make room at the board, 
 or the hospitality of the steward should supply him with 
 refreshments in the place he had chosen apart. 
 
 Cedric rose to receive his guests with an air of digni- 
 fied hospitality, and, descending from the dais, or elevated 
 part of his hall, made three steps towards them, and then 
 awaited their approach. 
 
 " I grieve," he said, " reverend Prior, that my vow 
 binds me to advance no farther 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 dis- 
 courtesy. 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 sacrifice to the horns of the altar — and are therefore, 
 as I said before, to be unloosed and discharged, unless 
 our Holy Mother Church shall pronounce the contrary. 
 And respecting language, I willingly hold communication 
 
IVANHOE. 35 
 
 in that spoken by my respected grandmother, Hilda of 
 Middleharu, who died in odour of sanctity, little short, if 
 we may presume to say so, of her glorious namesake, the 
 blessed Saint Hilda of Whitby — God be gracious to her 
 soul ! " 
 
 When the Prior had ceased what he meant as a concili- 
 atory harangue, his companion said briefly and emphati- 
 cally, " I speak ever French, the language of King Richard 
 and his nobles ; but I understand English sufficiently to 
 communicate with the natives of the country." 
 
 Cedric darted at the speaker one of those hasty and 
 impatient glances which comparisons between the two 
 rival nations seldom failed to call forth ; but, recollecting 
 the duties of hospitality, he suppressed further show of 
 resentment, and, motioning with his hand, caused his 
 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 Cedric'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 not please me, thou knave," said Cedric, 
 " that I should be made to suppose otherwise for two 
 hours, and sit here devising vengeance against my neigh- 
 bours for wrongs they have not done me. I tell thee, 
 shackles and the prison-house shall punish the next 
 'offence of this kind." 
 
 Gurth, knowing his master's irritable temper, at- 
 tempted no exculpation ; but the Jester, who could pre- 
 sume upon Cedric's tolerance, by virtue of his privileges 
 as a fool, replied for them both : " In troth, uncle Cedric, 
 you are neither wise nor reasonable to-night." 
 
 "How, sir!" said his master j "you shall to the por- 
 
 
 

 36 IVANHOE. 
 
 ter'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. 
 
 " 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 to- 
 gether, which Fangs did not manage until we heard the 
 vesper-bell." 
 
 "Then hang up Fangs," said Cedric, turning hastily 
 towards the swineherd, " if the fault is his, and get thee 
 another dog." 
 
 " Under favour, uncle," said the Jester, " that were still 
 somewhat on the bow-hand of fair justice ; for it was no 
 fault of 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 con- 
 trary to his master's right, 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 craye your 
 pardon, my worthy guests. I am beset here with neigh- 
 bours 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 
 
IVANHOE. 37 
 
 flesh, dressed in several modes, appeared on the lower part 
 of the board, as also that of fowls, deer, goats, and hares, 
 and various kinds of fish, together with huge loaves and 
 cakes of bread, and sundry confections made of fruits and 
 honey. The smaller sorts of wild-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 guest in suc- 
 cession, 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 Rowena." A side-door 
 at the upper end of the hall now opened behind the ban- 
 quet table, and Rowena, followed by four female attend- 
 ants, entered the apartment. Cedric, though surprised, 
 and perhaps not altogether agreeably so, at his w T ard ap- 
 pearing in public on this occasion, hastened to meet her, 
 and to conduct her, with respectful ceremony, to the ele- 
 vated seat at his own right hand appropriated to the lady 
 of the mansion. All stood up to receive her ; and reply- 
 ing 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-Guilbert kept his eyes riveted on the Saxon 
 beauty, more striking perhaps to his imagination because 
 differing widely from those of the Eastern sultanas. 
 
 Formed in the best proportions of her sex, Eowena was 
 tall in stature, yet not so much so as to attract observa- .• 
 tion on account of superior height. Her complexion was 
 exquisitely fair, but the noble cast of her head and fea- 
 tures prevented the insipidity which sometimes attaches 
 
 A 
 
 4 
 
38 IVANHOE. 
 
 to fair beauties. Her clear blue eye, which sate enshrined 
 beneath a graceful eyebrow of brown, sufficiently marked 
 to give expression to the forehead, seemed capable to 
 kindle as well as melt, to command as well as to beseech. 
 If mildness were the more natural expression of such a 
 combination of features, it was plain that, in the present 
 instance, the exercise of habitual superiority, and the re- 
 ception 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 colour betwixt 
 brown and flaxen, was arranged in a fanciful and graceful 
 manner in numerous ringlets, to form which art had prob- 
 ably 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 Rowena perceived the Knight Templar's eyes 
 bent on her with an ardour 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." 
 
IVANHOE. 39 
 
 " The Lady Rowena," said the Prior, " has punished 
 us all, in chastising the boldness of my friend. Let me 
 hope she will be less cruel to the splendid train which 
 are to meet at the tournament." 
 
 " Our going thither," said Cedric, " is uncertain. I love 
 not these vanities, which were unknown to my fathers 
 when England was free." 
 
 " Let us hope, nevertheless," said the Prior, " our com- 
 pany may determine you to travel thitherward; when 
 the roads are so unsafe, the escort of Sir Brian de Bois- 
 Guilbert is not to be despised." 
 
 " Sir Prior," answered the Saxon, " wheresoever I have 
 travelled in this land, I have hitherto found myself, with 
 the assistance of my good sword and faithful followers, 
 in no respect needful of other aid. At present, if we 
 indeed journey to Ashby-de-la-Zouche, we do so with my 
 noble neighbour and countryman, Athelstane of Conings- 
 burgh, 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 preparation of milk, I hope you will not 
 strain courtesy to do me reason." 
 
 " Nay," said the Priest, laughing, " it is only in our 
 abbey that we confine ourselves to the lac dulce or the 
 lac acidum either. Conversing with the world, we use 
 the world's fashion, and therefore I answer your pledge 
 in this honest wine, and leave the weaker liquor to my 
 lay-brother." 
 
 " And I," said the Templar, filling his goblet, " drink 
 wassail to the fair Rowena ; 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 honour and 
 his kingdom." 
 
 " I will spare your courtesy, Sir Knight," said Rowena 
 with dignity, and without unveiling herself ; " or rather I 
 will tax it so far as to require of you the latest news from 
 
40 IV AN HOE. 
 
 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 
 appropriated seat upon a chair the back of which was 
 decorated with two ass's ears, and which was placed 
 about two steps behind that of his master, who, from 
 time to time, supplied him with victuals from his own 
 trencher ; a favour, however, which the Jester shared 
 with the favourite dogs, of whom, as we have already 
 noticed, there were several in attendance. Here sat 
 Wamba, with a small table before him, his heels tucked 
 up against the bar of the chair, his cheeks sucked up so 
 as to make his jaws resemble a pair of 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 
 prepared to receive favourably the expected jest. 
 
 " Because," answered Wamba, " I remember three of 
 them in my day, each of which was to endure for the 
 course of fifty years; so that, by computation, I must be 
 at least a hundred and fifty years old." 
 
 " I will warrant you against dying of old age, however," 
 said the Templar, who now recognised 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 travellers ? 
 We must have you whipt; you are at least as much 
 rogue as fool." 
 
 " I pray thee, uncle," answered the Jester, " let my 
 folly for once protect my roguery. I did but make a 
 mistake between my right hand and my left; and he 
 might have pardoned a greater who took a fool for his - 
 counsellor and guide." 
 
IVANHOE. 41 
 
 Conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of 
 the porter's page, who announced that there was a stranger 
 at the gate, imploring admittance and hospitality. 
 
 "Admit him," said Cedric, "be he who or what he 
 may ; — a 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. 
 
 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 Wamba with 
 his usual effrontery ; " the swineherd will be a fit usher 
 to the Jew." 
 
 " St. Mary," said the Abbot, crossing himself, " an un- 
 believing Jew, and admitted into this presence ! " 
 
 "A dog Jew," echoed the Templar, "to approach a 
 defender of the Holy Sepulchre ? " 
 
 "By my faith," said Wamba, "it would seem the 
 Templars love the Jews' inheritance better than they do 
 their company." 
 
 " Peace, my worthy guests," said Cedric ; " my hospi- 
 tality must not be bounded by your dislikes. If Heaven 
 bore with the whole nation of stiff-necked unbelievers 
 for more years than a layman can number, we may endure 
 the presence of one Jew for a few hours. But I constrain 
 no man to converse or to feed with him. — Let him have 
 
42 IVANHOE. 
 
 aboard 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 
 worshippers of Mahound and Termagaunt have so greatly 
 the advantage over the people once chosen of Heaven." 
 
 " He shall sit with thee, Wamba," said Cedric ; " the 
 fool and the knave will be well met." 
 
 " The fool," answered 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 ra- 
 pacious nobility, and who, perhaps owing to that very 
 hatred and persecution,* had adopted a national charac- 
 ter in which there was much, to say the least, mean and 
 unamiable. 
 
 The Jew's dress, which appeared to have suffered consid- 
 erably 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 
 SaAon was such as might have satisfied the most preju 
 
IVANHOE. 43 
 
 diced enemy of the tribes of Israel. Cedric himself 
 coldly nodded in answer to the Jew's repeated saluta- 
 tions, 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 towards 
 each of those who occupied the lower end of the board, 
 the Saxon domestics squared their shoulders, and contin- 
 ued to devour their supper with great perseverance, pay- 
 ing not the least attention to the wants of the new guest. 
 The attendants of the Abbot crossed themselves, with 
 looks of pious horror, and the very heathen Saracens, as 
 Isaac drew near them, curled up their whiskers with in- 
 dignation, 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 en- 
 gaged him in a most interesting discussion on the breed 
 and character of his favourite hounds, which he would 
 not have interrupted for matters of much greater impor- 
 tance 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, with- 
 out waiting the Jew's thanks, went to the other side of 
 the hall, whether from unwillingness to hold more close 
 communication with the object of his benevolence, or 
 from a wish to draw near to the upper end of the table, 
 seemed uncertain. 
 
 Had there been painters in those days capable to exe- 
 
44 IVANHOE. 
 
 cute 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 personifica- 
 tion of the Winter season. Having dispelled the cold, he 
 turned eagerly to the smoking mess which was placed 
 before him, and ate with a haste and an apparent relish 
 that seemed to betoken long abstinence from food. 
 
 Meanwhile the Abbot and Cedric continued their dis- 
 course upon hunting; the Lady Rowena seemed engaged 
 in conversation with one of her attendant females ; and 
 the haughty Templar, whose eye seemed to wander from 
 the Jew to the Saxon beauty, revolved in his mind 
 thoughts which appeared deeply to interest him. 
 
 " I marvel, worthy Cedric," said the Abbot, as their dis- 
 course proceeded, " that, great as your predilection is for 
 your own manly language, you do not receive the Norman- 
 French into your favour, so far at least as the mystery of 
 wood-craft 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 
 recheat or a mort ; I can cheer my dogs on the prey, and I 
 can flay and quarter the ,animal when it is brought down, 
 without using the new-fangled jargon of curee, arbor, nom- 
 bles, 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 of war, in which ladies 
 should be won and enemies defied." j 
 
 " 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 
 
IVANHOE. 45 
 
 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 in- 
 creasing 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 
 clamour of a bridal. But our bards are no more," he said ; 
 " our deeds are lost in those of another race ; our language 
 — our very name — is hastening to decay, and none 
 mourns for it save one solitary old man. — Cupbearer ! 
 knave, fill the goblets. To the strong in arms, Sir Tem- 
 plar, 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-G-uilbert ; "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 Bichard of the Lion's Heart been wise enough 
 to have taken a fool's advice, he might have stayed at 
 home with his merry Englishmen, and left the recovery 
 of Jerusalem to those same knights who had most to do 
 with the loss of it." 
 
 " Were there, then, none in the English army," said the 
 Lady Bowena, " whose names are worthy to be mentioned 
 with the Knights of the Temple 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." 
 
i6 IVAN HOE. 
 
 " Second to none," said the Pilgrim, who had stood 
 near enough to hear, and had listened to this conversation 
 with marked im patience. All turned towards 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 live of his 
 knights, held a tournament after the taking of St. John- 
 de-Acre, as challengers against all coiners. I say that, 
 on that day, each knight ran three courses, and cast to 
 the ground three antagonists: I add, that seven of these 
 • assailants were Knights of the Temple ; and Sir Brian 
 it de Bois-G-uilbert well knows the truth of what I tell 
 you." 
 
 It is impossible for language to describe the bitter scowl 
 of rage which rendered yet darker the swarthy counte- 
 nance of the Templar. In the extremity of his resent- 
 ment and confusion, his quivering fingers griped towards 
 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 feel- 
 ings 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 5 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 honour as in arms, in renown as in 
 place," said the Pilgrim, " was the brave Richard, King 
 of England." 
 
 "I forgive him," said Cedric — "I forgive him his 
 descent from the tyrant Duke William." 
 
 " The Earl of Leicester was the second," continued the 
 
1VANH0E. 47 
 
 Pilgrim. " Sir Thomas Multon of Gilsland was the 
 third." 
 
 " Of Saxon descent, he at least," said Cedric, with 
 exultation. 
 
 " Sir Foulk Doilly the fourth," proceeded the Pilgrim. 
 
 " Saxon also, at least by the mother's side," continued 
 Cedric, who listened with the utmost eagerness, and for- 
 got, 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 honour- 
 able company less to aid their enterprise than to make 
 up their number ; his name dwells not in my memory." 
 
 " Sir Palmer," said Brian de Bois-Guilbert, scornfully, 
 " this assumed forgetfulness, after so much has been re- 
 membered, 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 well know cannot take place. If 
 Ivanhoe ever returns from Palestine, I will be his surety 
 that he meets you." 
 
 " A goodly security ! " said the Knight Templar ; " and 
 what do you proffer as a pledge ? " 
 
 " This reliquary," said the Palmer, taking a smal. 1 
 
48 1VANH0E. 
 
 ivory box from his bosom, and crossing himself, "con- 
 taining a portion of the true cross, brought from the 
 Monastery of Mount Carinel." 
 
 The Prior of Jorvaulx crossed himself and repeated a 
 pater noster, in which all devoutly joined, excepting the 
 Jew, the Mahomedans, and the Templar ; the latter of 
 whom, without vailing his bonnet or testifying any rever- 
 ence 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 name- 
 less 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 answers 
 not, I will proclaim him as a coward on the walls of every 
 Temple Court in Europe." 
 
 "It will not need," said the Lady Rowena, breaking 
 silence : " my voice shall be heard, if no other in this hall 
 is raised, in behalf of the absent Ivanhoe. I affirm he 
 will meet fairly every honourable challenge. Could my 
 weak warrant add security to the inestimable pledge of 
 this holy pilgrim, I would pledge name and fame that 
 Ivanhoe gives this proud knight the meeting he desires." 
 
 A crowd of conflicting emotions seemed to have occu- 
 pied Cedric and kept him silent during this discussion. 
 Gratified pride, resentment, embarrassment, chased each 
 other over his broad and open brow, like the shadow of 
 clouds drifting over a harvest-field ; while his attendants, 
 on whom the name of the sixth knight seemed to produce 
 an effect almost electrical, hung in suspense upon their 
 master's looks. But when Rowena spoke, the sound of 
 her voice seemed to startle him from his silence. 
 
 "Lady," said Cedric, "this beseems not; were further 
 pledge necessary, I myself, offended, and justly offended, 
 as I am, would yet gage my honour for the honour of 
 Ivanhoe. But the wager of battle is complete, even 
 according to the fantastic fashions of Norman chivalry. 
 — Is it not, Father Aymer ? " 
 
 "It is," replied the Prior; "and the blessed relic and 
 rich chain will I bestow safely in the treasury of our 
 convent, until the decision of this warlike challenge." 
 
IV AN HOE. 49 
 
 Having thus spoken, he crossed himself again and 
 again, and after many genuflections and muttered prayers, 
 he delivered the reliquary to Brother Ambrose, his at- 
 tendant monk, while he himself swept up with less cere- 
 mony, but perhaps with no less internal satisfaction, the 
 golden chain, and bestowed it in a pouch lined with per- 
 fumed 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 rood of Bromholme," said the Saxon, " you do 
 but small credit to your fame, Sir Prior ! Report speaks 
 you a bonny monk, that would hear the matin chime ere 
 he quitted his bowl ; and, old as I am, I feared to have 
 shame in encountering you. But, by my faith, a Saxon 
 boy of twelve, in my time, would not so soon have relin- 
 quished his goblet." 
 
 The Prior had his own reasons, however, for persever- 
 ing in the course of temperance which he had adopted. 
 He was not only a professional peacemaker, but from 
 practice a hater of all feuds and brawls. It was not 
 altogether from a love to his neighbour, or to himself, or 
 from a mixture of both. On the present occasion, he had 
 an instinctive apprehension of the fiery temper of the 
 Saxon, and saw the danger that the reckless and pre- 
 sumptuous spirit of which his companion had already 
 given so many proofs, might at length produce some dis- 
 agreeable explosion. He therefore gently insinuated the 
 incapacity of the native of any other country to engage 
 in the genial conflict of the bowl with the hardy and 
 strong-headed Saxons ; something he mentioned, but 
 slightly, about his own holy character, and ended by 
 pressing his proposal to depart to repose. 
 
 The grace-cup was accordingly served round, and the 
 guests, after making deep obeisance to their landlord and 
 to the Lady Rowena, arose and mingled in the hall, while 
 the heads of the family, by separate doors, retired with 
 their attendants. 
 
 " Unbelieving dog," said the Templar to Isaac the Jew, 
 
 B 
 
50 IVANHOE. 
 
 as he passed him in the throng, "dost thou bend thy 
 course to the tournament ? " 
 
 " I do so propose," replied Isaac, bowing in all humil- 
 ity, "if it please your reverend valour." .c-v 7 ^ 
 
 "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 halfling, — so 
 help me the God of Abraham ! " said the Jew, clasping 
 his hands. "I go but to seek the assistance of some 
 brethren of my tribe to aid me to pay the fine which the 
 Exchequer of the Jews have imposed upon me, Father 
 Jacob be my speed ! I am an impoverished wretch — 
 the very gaberdine I wear is borrowed from Reuben of 
 Tadcaster." 
 
 The Templar smiled sourly as he replied, "Beshrew 
 thee for a false-hearted liar ! " and passing onward, as if 
 disdaining farther conference, he communed with his 
 Moslem slaves in a language unknown to the bystanders. 
 The poor Israelite seemed so staggered by the address of 
 the military monk, that the Templar had passed on to the 
 extremity of the hall ere he raised his head from the 
 humble posture which he had assumed, so far as to be 
 sensible of his departure. And when he did look around, 
 it was with the astonished air of one at whose feet a 
 thunderbolt has just ,burst, and who hears still the 
 astounding report ringing in his ears. 
 
 The Templar and Prior were shortly after marshalled 
 to their sleeping apartments by the steward and the cup- 
 bearer, each attended by two torch-bearers and two ser- 
 vants carrying refreshments, while servants of inferior 
 condition indicated to their retinue and to the other 
 guests their respective places of repose. 
 
IVANHOE. 51 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 To buy his favour I extend this friendship •. 
 
 If he will take it, so ; if not, adieu ; 
 
 And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not. 
 
 Merchant of Venice. 
 
 As the Palmer, lighted by a domestic with a torch, 
 passed through the intricate combination of apartments 
 of this large and irregular mansion, the cupbearer, 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 particu- 
 larly that which concerned the Knight of Ivanhoe. 
 Wamba presently appeared to urge the same request, 
 observing that a cup after midnight was worth three after 
 curfew. Without disputing a maxim urged by such grave 
 authority, the Palmer thanked them for their courtesy, 
 but observed that he had included in his religious vow an 
 obligation never to speak in the kitchen on matters which 
 were prohibited in the hall. 
 
 " That vow," said Wamba to the cupbearer, " would 
 scarce suit a serving-man." 
 
 The cupbearer shrugged up 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 
 Rowena, who, saying in a tone of authority that her mis- 
 tress desired to speak with the Palmer, took the torch 
 from the hand of Anwold, and bidding him await her 
 
52 IVANHOE. 
 
 return, made a sign to the Palmer to follow. Apparently 
 he did not think it proper to decline this invitation as he 
 had done the former; for, though his gesture indicated 
 some surprise at the summons, he obeyed it without 
 answer or remonstrance. 
 
 A short passage, and an ascent of seven steps, each of 
 which was composed of a solid beam of oak, led him to 
 the apartment of the Lady Rowena, the rude magnifi- 
 cence 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- 
 coloured silks, interwoven with gold and silver threads, 
 had been employed, with all the art of which the age 
 was capable, to represent the sports of hunting and 
 hawking. The bed was adorned with the same rich tap- 
 estry, 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 in- 
 tended to protect them from the wind, the flame of the 
 torches streamed sideways into the air, like the unfurled 
 pennon of a chieftain. Magnificence there was, with 
 some rude attempt at taste ; but of comfort there was 
 little, and, being unknown, it was unmissed. 
 
 The Lady Rowena, with three of her attendants 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. 
 
 "Rise, Palmer," said she, graciously. "The defender 
 of the absent has a right to favourable reception from all 
 who value truth and honour manhood." She then said 
 to her train, " Retire, excepting only Elgitha ; I would 
 speak with this holy Pilgrim." 
 
T taoio little of- tn< 
 
 '{pjcsr °^ Jy<anko&-^' anaosfcrcS t1>e. k>a/rt\or 
 
IVANHOE. 53 
 
 The maidens, without leaving the apartment, retired 
 to its further extremity, and sat down on a small bench 
 against the wall, where they remained mute as statues, 
 though at such a distance that their whispers could not 
 have interrupted the conversation of their mistress. 
 
 "Pilgrim," said the lady, after a moment's pause, dur- 
 ing 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 acceptably ; aud 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 con- 
 dition, you left him of whom you spoke ? — We heard 
 that, having remained in Palestine, on account of his 
 f ^impaired health, after the departure of the English army, 
 he had experienced the persecution of the French faction, 
 to whom the Templars aTe^known to be attached." 
 
 " I know little of the Knight of Ivanhoe," answered 
 the Palmer, with a troubled voice. " I would I knew 
 him better, since you, lady, are interested in his fate. 
 He hath, I believe, surmounted the persecution of his 
 enemies in Palestine, and is on the eve of returning to 
 England, where you, lady, must know better than I what 
 is his chance of happiness." 
 
 The Lady Rowena sighed deeply, and asked more 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 France to 
 England. "Ivanhoe," he said, "was so well acquainted 
 with the language and manners of the French, that there 
 was no fear of his incurring any hazard during that part 
 of his travels." 
 
 "Would to God," said the Lady Rowena, "he were 
 here safely arrived, and able to bear arms in the ap- 
 proaching tourney, in which the chivalry of this land are 
 expected to display their address and valour. Should 
 
 > 
 
54 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 ? " 
 
 "He was darker," said the Palmer, " and thinner than 
 when he came from Cyprus in the train of Coeur-de-Lion, 
 and care seemed to sit heavy on his brow ; but I ap- 
 proached not his presence, because he is unknown to me." 
 '"He will," said the lady, "I fear, find little in his 
 native land to clear those clouds from his countenance. 
 Thanks, good Pilgrim, for your information concerning 
 the companion of my childhood. — Maidens," she said, 
 " draw near — offer the sleeping-cup to this holy man, 
 whom I will no longer detain from repose." 
 
 One of the maidens presented a silver cup containing 
 a rich mixture of wine and spice, which Rowena barely 
 put to her lips. It was then offered to the Palmer, who, • 
 after a low obeisance, tasted a few drops. 
 
 " Accept this alms, friend," continued the lady, offer- 
 ing a piece of gold, " in acknowledgment of thy painful 
 travail, and of the shrines thou hast visited." 
 
 The Palmer received the boon with another low rever- 
 ence, and followed Elgitha 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," answereo^ Anjs^l^-i' kennels 
 in the cell next your holiness. — St. Dunstan, how it 
 must be scraped and cleansed ere it be again tit for a 
 Christian ! " 
 
 " And where sleeps Gurth, the swineherd ? " said the 
 stranger. 
 
 " (riirth," replied the bondsman, " sleeps in the cell on 
 your right, as the Jew in that to your left ; you serve to 
 
IVANHOE. 55 
 
 keep the child of circumcision separate from the abomi- 
 nation of his tribe. You might have occupied a more 
 honourable place _ had you accepted of Oswald's invita- 
 tion." 
 
 " It is as well as 1 , it is," said the Palmer ; " the com- 
 pany, even of a Jew, can hardly spread contamination 
 through an oaken partition." 
 
 So saying, he entered the cabin allotted to him, and 
 taking the torch from the domestic's hand, thanked him 
 and wished him good night. Having shut the door of 
 his cell, he placed the torch in a candlestick made of 
 wood, and looked around his sleeping apartment, the 
 furniture of which was of the most simple kind. It con- 
 sisted of a rude wooden stool, and still ruder hutch or 
 bed-frame, stuffed with clean straw, and accommodated 
 with two or three sheepskins by way of bed-clothes. 
 
 The Palmer, having extinguished his torch, threw 
 himself, without taking off any part of his clothes, on 
 this rude couch, and slept, or at least retained his recum- 
 bent 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, lifting the latch as gently 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 
 lands and arms moved convulsively, as if struggling 
 \with the nightmare ; and besides several ejaculations in 
 'rHebrew, the following were distinctly heard in the Nor- 
 man-English, or mixed language of the country : " For 
 the sake of the God of Abraham, spare an unhappy old 
 man ! I am poor, I am penniless ; should your irons 
 ^{ wrench my limbs asunder, I could not gratify you ! " 
 
 The Palmer awaited not the end of the Jew's vision. 
 
56 IVANHOE. 
 
 but stirred him with his pilgrim's staff. The touch prob- 
 ably associated, as is usual, with some of the apprehen- 
 sions excited by his dream ; for the old man started up, 
 his grey 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, ex- 
 pressive of wild surprise and of bodily apprehension. 
 
 " Fear nothing from me, Isaac," said the Palmer, " I 
 come as your friend." 
 
 " The God of Israel requite you," said the Jew, greatly 
 relieved ; " I dreamed — but Father Abraham be praised, 
 it was but a dream ! " Then, collecting himself, he added 
 in his usual tone, "And what may it be your pleasure to 
 want at so early an hour with the poor Jew ? ' 
 
 "It is to tell you," said the Palmer, "that if you leave 
 not this mansion instantly, and travel not with some 
 haste, your journey may prove a dangerous one." 
 
 " Holy father ! " said the Jew, " whom could it interest 
 to endanger so poor a wretch as I am ? " 
 
 " The purpose you can best guess," said the Pilgrim ; 
 " but rely on this, that when the Templar crossed the hall 
 yesternight, he spoke to his Mussulman slaves in the Sara- 
 cen language, which I well understand, and charged them 
 this morning to watch the journey of the Jew, to seize upon 
 him when at a convenient distance from the mansion, and 
 to conduct him to the castle of Philip de Malvoisin or to 
 that of Reginald Front-de-Bceuf." 
 
 It is impossible to describe the extremity of terror 
 which seized upon the Jew at this information, and seemed 
 at once to overpower his whole faculties. His arms fell 
 down to his sides, and his head drooped on his breast, his 
 knees bent under his weight, every nerve and muscle of 
 his frame seemed to collapse and lose its energy, and he 
 sunk at the foot of the Palmer, not in the fashion of one 
 who intentionally stoops, kneels, or prostrates himself to 
 excite compassion, but like a man borne down on all sides 
 by the pressure of some invisible force, which crashes him 
 to the earth without the power of resistance. 
 
 " Holy God of Abraham ! " was his first exclamation, 
 
IVANHOE. 57 
 
 folding and elevating his wrinkled hands, but without 
 raising his grey head from the pavement ; " holy Moses ! 
 blessed Aaron ! the dream is not dreamed for nought, 
 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 Kabbah, and of the cities of the children of 
 Ammon ! " 
 
 " Stand up, Isaac, and harken to me," said the Palmer, 
 who viewed the extremity of his distress with a compas- 
 sion in which contempt was largely mingled ; " you have 
 cause for your terror, considering how your brethren have 
 been used, in order to extort from them their hoards, both 
 by princes and nobles; but stand up, I say, and I will 
 point out to you the means of escape. Leave this man- 
 sion 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 grey hair and beard, and fixing his keen black 
 eyes upon the Palmer's face, with a look expressive at 
 once of hope and fear, not unmingled with suspicion. 
 But when he heard the concluding part of the sentence, 
 his original terror appeared to jevive in full force, and 
 he dropt once more on his face, exclaiming, " / possess 
 •the means of securing good- will ! Alas ! there is but one 
 road to the favour of a Christian, and how can the poor 
 Jew find it, whom extortions have already reduced to the 
 misery of Lazarus ? " Then, as if suspi cion had over- 
 powered 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 ! 1 
 have not means to secure the good-will of a Christian 
 
 r> 
 
58 IVANHOE. 
 
 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. 
 
 " Wert 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 Reginald Front-de- 
 Boeuf — Good youth, I will go with you ! Let us 
 haste — let us gird up our loins — let us flee ! — - Here is 
 thy staff, why wilt thou tarry ? " 
 
 " I tarry not," said the Pilgrim, giving way to the ur- 
 gency 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 Eumseus 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 travelling in company with the Palmer to 
 boot — " 
 
 " I should as soon have dreamt," said Wamba, who 
 entered the apartment at the instant, " of his stealing away 
 with a gammon of bacon." 
 
 " Nevertheless," said 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 
 
IVANHOE. 59 
 
 the great gate — we suffer no visitors to depart by stealth 
 at these unseasonable hours." 
 
 "Nevertheless," said the Pilgrim, in a commanding 
 tone, "you will not, I think, refuse me that favour." 
 
 So saying, he stooped over the bed of the recumbent 
 swineherd, and whispered something in his ear in Saxon. 
 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 demeanour. 
 
 " 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 Cedric'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. 
 
 " I wish I knew," said W T amba, 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 prayers." 
 
 " 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 favourite black boar of thy vigils and penance, and 
 wouldst have gotten as civil an answer." 
 
 " Go to," said the Pilgrim, " thou art but a Saxon fool." 
 
 "Thou sayst well," said the Jester; "had I been born 
 a Norman, as I think thou art, I would have had luck on 
 my side, and been next door to a wise man." 
 
 At this moment* Gurth appeared on the opposite side 
 of the moat with the mules. The travellers crossed the 
 
60 IVANHOE. 
 
 ditch upon a drawbridge of only two planks' breadth, the 
 narrowness of which was matched with the straitness of 
 the postern, and with a little wicket in the exterior pali- 
 sade, which gave access to the forest. No sooner had 
 they reached the mules, than the Jew, with hasty and 
 trembling hands, secured behind the saddle a small bag of 
 blue buckram, which he took from under his cloak, con- 
 taining, as he muttered, " a change of raiment — only a 
 change of raiment." Then getting upon the animal with 
 more alacrity and haste than could have been anticipated 
 from his years, he lost no time in so disposing of the 
 skirts of his gaberdine as to conceal completely from 
 observation the burden which he had thus deposited 
 en 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 travellers 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 un- 
 wontedly 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." 
 
 " Thou art no fool thus far, Wamba," answered Gurth, 
 " though thou arguest from appearances, and the wisest 
 of us can do no more. — But it is time to look after my 
 charge." 
 
 So saying, he turned back to the mansion, attended by 
 the Jester. 
 
 Meanwhile the travellers continued to press on their 
 journey with a dispatch 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 
 outlet in the wood appeared to be familiar, led the way 
 through the most devious paths, and more than once 
 excited anew the suspicion of the Israelite that he in- 
 tended to betray him into some ambuscade of his enemies. 
 
I VAN HOE. 61 
 
 ■ 
 
 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 perse- 
 cution as the Jews of this period. Upon the slightest 
 and most unreasonable pretences, as well as upon accusa- 
 tions the most absurd and groundless, their persons and 
 property 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 jaw of the unhappy Israelite was 
 half disf urnished, he consented to pay a large sum, which 
 it was the tyrant's object to extort from him. The little 
 ready money which was in the country was chiefly in 
 possession of this persecuted people, and the nobility 
 hesitated not to follow the example of their sovereign in 
 wringing it from them by every species of oppression, 
 and even personal torture. Yet the passive courage in- 
 spired by the love of gain induced the Jews to dare the 
 various evils to which they were subjected, in considera- 
 tion of the immense profits which they were enabled to 
 realise in a country naturally so wealthy as England. In 
 spite of every kind of discouragement, and even of the 
 special court of taxations already mentioned, called the 
 Jews' Exchequer, erected for the very purpose of despoil- 
 ing 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 
 
62 IVANHOE. 
 
 in one country, their treasure might be secured in an- 
 other. 
 
 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 accord- 
 ingly, was watchful, suspicious, and timid — yet obstinate, 
 uncomplying, and skilful in evading the dangers to which 
 they were exposed. 
 
 When the travellers 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 bounda- 
 ries over which Front-de-Boeuf claims authority ; we are 
 loner 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 succour couldst thou have from me, a peaceful 
 Pilgrim, against two armed heathens ? " 
 
 " good youth," answered the Jew, " thou canst defend 
 me, and I know thou wouldst. Poor as I am, I will re- 
 quite 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 not of thee. 
 Guide thee I can, and it may be, even in some sort de- 
 fend thee ; since to protect a Jew against a Saracen can 
 
2VANH0E. 63 
 
 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 harbour with my kins- 
 man Zareth, and find some means of travelling 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 sanc- 
 tity to his character. They paused on the top of a gently 
 rising bank, and the Pilgrim, pointing to the town of 
 Sheffield, which lay beneath them, repeated the words, 
 " Here, then, we part." 
 
 " Not till you have had the poor Jew's thanks," said 
 Isaac ; " for I presume not to ask you to go with me to 
 my kinsman Zareth'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." 
 
 " If thou wert to guess truly," said the Palmer, " it is 
 what thou canst not supply, wert thou as wealthy as thou 
 sayst thou art poor." 
 
 " As I say ! ' ' echoed the Jew. " Oh ! believe it, I say 
 
64 IVANHOE. 
 
 but the truth ; I am a plundered, indebted, distressed 
 man. Hard hands have wrung from me my goods, my 
 money, my ships, and all that I possessed. — Yet I can 
 tell thee what thou lackest, and, it may be, supply it too. 
 Thy wish even now is for a horse and armour." 
 
 The Palmer started, and turned suddenly towards the 
 Jew. " What fiend prompted that guess ? " said he, 
 hastily. 
 
 "No matter," said the Jew, smiling, "so that it be a 
 true one ; and, as I can guess thy want, so I can supply 
 it." 
 
 " But consider," said the Palmer, " my character, my 
 dress, my vow." 
 
 " I know you Christians," replied the Jew, " and that 
 the noblest of you will take the staff aud 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 dropt words from you last night and this morning 
 that, like sparks from flint, showed the metal within; 
 and in the bosom of that Palmer's gown is hidden a 
 knight's chain and spurs of gold. They glanced as you 
 stooped over my bed in the morning." 
 
 The Pilgrim could not forbear smiling. "Were thy 
 garments searched by as curious an eye, Isaac," said he, 
 " what discoveries might not be made ? " 
 
 " No more of that," said the Jew, changing colour ; and 
 drawing forth his writing materials in haste, as if to stop 
 the conversation, he began to write upon a piece of paper 
 which he supported on the top of his yellow cap, without 
 dismounting from his mule. When he had finished, he 
 delivered the scroll, which was in the Hebrew character, 
 to the Pilgrim, saying, " In the town of Leicester all men 
 know the rich Jew, Kirjath Jairam of Lombardy ; give 
 him this scroll. He hath on sale six Milan harnesses, the 
 worst would suit a crowned head — ten goodly steeds, the 
 worst might mount a king, were he to do battle for his 
 throne. Of these he will give thee thy choice, with every- 
 thing else that can furnish thee forth for the tournament; 
 
IYANHOE. 65 
 
 when it is over, thou wilt return them safely — unless thou 
 shouldst have wherewith to pay their value to the owner." 
 
 " But, Isaac," said the Pilgrim, smiling, " dost thou 
 know that in these sports the arms and steed of the 
 knight who is 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 possibil- 
 ity ; 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 
 
 7 7 %J 
 
 be slain, the armour 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, turn- 
 ing about, " thrust thyself not too forward into this vain 
 hurly-burly — I speak not for endangering the steed and 
 coat of armour, but for the sake of thine own life and 
 limbs." 
 
 "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. 
 
66 IVANHOE. 
 
 9^(L~- V v~y ^Z Cu-r t^C 
 
 CHAPTER VII. ^V 
 
 Knights, with a long retinue of their squires, 
 In gaudy liveries inarch, 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 armourers 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. 
 
 Palamon and Arcite. 
 
 The condition of the English nation was at this time 
 sufficiently miserable. King Richard was absent a pris- 
 oner, and in the power of the perfidious and cruel Duke 
 of Austria. Even the very place of his captivity was 
 uncertain, and his fate but very imperfectly known to 
 the generality of his subjects, who were, in the meantime, 
 a prey to every species of subaltern oppression. 
 
 Prince John, in league with Philip of France, Coeur-de- 
 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 
 favours. In the meantime, he was strengthening his own 
 faction in the kingdoin, of which he proposed to dis- 
 pute the succession, in case of the King's death, with the 
 legitimate heir, Arthur Duke of Brittany, son of Geoffrey 
 Plantagenet, the elder brother of John. This usurpation, 
 it is well known, he afterwards effected. His own char- 
 acter being light, profligate, and perfidious, John easily 
 attached to his person and faction not only all who had 
 reason to dread the resentment of Richard for criminal 
 proceedings during his absence, but also the numerous 
 class of " lawless resolutes " whom the crusades had 
 turned back on their country, accomplished in the vices 
 of the East, impoverished in substance, and hardened in 
 character, and who placed their hopes of harvest in civil 
 commotion. 
 
IVANHOE. 67 
 
 To these causes of public distress and apprehension 
 must be added the multitude of outlaws who, driven to 
 despair by the oppression of the feudal nobility and the 
 severe exercise of the forest laws, banded together in 
 large gangs, and keeping possession of the forests and 
 the wastes, set at defiance the justice and magistracy of 
 the country. The nobles themselves, each fortified within 
 his own castle, and playing the petty sovereign over his 
 own dominions, were the leaders of bands scarce less law- 
 less and oppressive than those of the avowed depredators. 
 To maintain these retainers, and to support the extrava- 
 gance and magnificence which their pride induced them 
 to affect, the nobility borrowed sums of money from the 
 Jews at the most usurious interest, which gnawed into 
 their estates like consuming cankers, scarce to be cured 
 unless when circumstances gave them an opportunity of 
 getting free by exercising upon their creditors some act 
 of unprincipled violence. 
 
 Under the various burdens imposed by this unhappy 
 state of affairs, the people of England suffered deeply for 
 the present, and had yet more dreadful cause to fear for 
 the future. To augment their misery, a contagious dis- 
 order of a dangerous nature spread through the land ; 
 and, rendered more virulent by the uncleanness, the in- 
 different 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 citi- 
 zen of Madrid, who has not a real left to buy provisions 
 for his family, feels in the issue of a bull-feast. Neither 
 duty nor infirmity could keep youth or age from such ex- 
 hibitions. 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 
 1 o grace the lists, had attracted universal attention, and 
 
68 IVANHOE. 
 
 
 an immense confluence of persons of all ranks hastened 
 upon the appointed morning to the place of combat. 
 
 The scene was singularly romantic. On the verge of 
 a wood, which approached to within a mile of the town 
 of Ashby, was an extensive meadow of the finest and 
 most beautiful green turf, surrounded on one side by 
 the forest, and fringed on the other by straggling oak 
 trees, some of which had grown to an immense size. The 
 ground, as if fashioned on purpose for the martial dis- 
 play which was intende/1, sloped gradually down on all 
 sides to a level bottom, which was inclosed for the lists 
 with strong palisades, forming a space of a quarter of a 
 mile in length, and about half as broad. The form of 
 the enclosure was an oblong square, save that the corners 
 were considerably rounded off, in order to afford more 
 convenience for the spectators. The openings for the 
 entry of the combatants were at the northern and south- 
 ern extremities of the lists, accessible by strong wooden 
 gates, each wide enough to admit two horsemen riding 
 abreast. At each of these portals were stationed two 
 heralds, attended by six trumpets, as many pursuivants, 
 and a strong body of men-at-arms, for maintaining order, 
 and ascertaining the quality of the knights who proposed 
 to engage in this martial game. 
 
 On a platform beyond the southern entrance, formed 
 by a natural elevation of the ground, were pitched five 
 magnificent pavilions, adorned with pennons of russet 
 and black, the chosen colours of the five knights challeng- 
 ers. The cords of the tents were of the same colour. 
 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 
 honour, had been assigned to Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 
 whose renown in all games of chivalry, no less than his 
 connexion with the knights who had undertaken this 
 Passage of Arms, had occasioned him to be eagerly re- 
 ceived into the company of the challengers, and even 
 
IVANHOE. 69 
 
 adopted as their chief and leader, though he had so re- 
 cently joined them. On one side of his tent were pitched 
 those of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf and Richard de Malvoi- 
 sin, and on the other was the pavilion of Hugh de Grant- 
 mesnil, a noble baron in the vicinity, whose ancestor had 
 been Lord High Steward of England in the time of the 
 Conqueror and his son William Rufus. Ralph de 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 
 breadth, led up to the platform on which the tents were 
 pitched. It was strongly secured by a palisade on each 
 side, as was the esplanade in front of the pavilions, and 
 the whole was guarded by men-at-arms. 
 
 The northern access to the lists terminated in a similar 
 entrance of thirty feet in breadth, at the extremity of 
 which was a large inclosed 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 armourers, 
 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 tem- 
 porary galleries, spread with tapestry and carpets, and 
 accommodated with cushions for the convenience of those 
 ladies and nobles who were expected to attend the tour- 
 nament. 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 com- 
 pared to the pit of a theatre'. The promiscuous multitude 
 arranged themselves upon large banks of turf prepared 
 for the purpose, which, aided by the natural elevation of 
 the ground, enabled them to overlook the galleries and 
 obtain a fair view into the lists. Besides the accommoda- 
 tion which these stations afforded, many hundreds had 
 perched themselves on the branches of the trees which 
 surrounded the meadow ; and even the steeple of a coun- 
 try church, at some distance, was crowded with spectators 
 
 It only remains to notice respecting the general ar 
 
70 IVANHOE. 
 
 rangement, that one gallery in the very centre of the 
 eastern side of the lists, and consequently exactly oppo- 
 site to the spot where the shock of the combat was to 
 take place, was raised higher than the others, more richly 
 decorated^ and graced by a sort of throne and canopy, on 
 which the royal arms were emblazoned. Squires, pages, 
 and yeomen in rich liveries waited around this place of 
 honour, which was designed for Prince John and his at- 
 tendants. Opposite to this gallery was another, elevated 
 to the same height, on the western side of the lists ; and 
 more gaily, if less sumptuously, decorated than that des- 
 tined 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, sur- 
 rounded a throne decorated in the same colours. Among 
 pennons and flags bearing wounded hearts, burning hearts, 
 bleeding hearts, bows and quivers, and all the common- 
 place emblems of the triumphs of Cupid, a blazoned 
 inscription informed the spectators that this seat of 
 honour 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 
 entitled to hold. Some o£ these were settled by the men- 
 at-arms with brief ceremony; the shafts of their battle- 
 axes and pummels of their swords being readily employed 
 as arguments to convince the more refractory. Others, 
 which involved the rival claims of more elevated persons, 
 were determined by the heralds, or by the two marshals 
 of the field, William de 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 splen- 
 did habits of the ladies, who, in a greater proportion than 
 even the men themselves, thronged to witness a sport 
 
IYANHOE. 71 
 
 which one would have thought too bloody and dangerous 
 to afford their sex much pleasure. The lower and in- 
 terior space was soon filled by substantial yeomen and 
 burghers, and such of the lesser gentry as, from modesty, 
 poverty, or dubious title, durst not assume any higher 
 place. It was of course amongst these that the most 
 frequent disputes for precedence occurred. 
 
 " Dog of an unbeliever," said an old man, whose thread- 
 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 mag- 
 nificently dressed in a gaberdine ornamented with lace 
 and lined with fur, was endeavouring to make place in 
 the foremost row beneath the gallery for his daughter, 
 the beautiful Rebecca, who had joined him at Ashby, and 
 who was now hanging on her father's arm, not a little 
 terrified by the popular displeasure which seemed gener- 
 ally 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 ma- 
 levolent noble durst offer him injury. At such meetings 
 the Jews were under the protection of the general law ; 
 and if that proved a weak assurance, it usually happened 
 that there were among the persons assembled some 
 barons who, for their own interested motives, were ready 
 to act as their protectors. On the present occasion, Isaac 
 felt more than usually confident, being aware that Prince 
 John was even then in the very act of negotiating a large 
 loan from the Jews of York, to be secured upon 
 certain jewels and lands. Isaac's own share in this 
 transaction was considerable, and he well knew that the 
 Prince's eager desire to bring it to a conclusion would 
 ensure him his protection in the dilemma in which he 
 stood. 
 
72 IV AN HOE. 
 
 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 indigna- 
 tion of the bystanders. One of these, a stout, well-set 
 yeoman, arrayed in Lincoln green, having twelve arrows 
 stuck in his belt, with a baldric and badge of silver, and 
 a bow of six feet length in his hand, turned short round, 
 and while his countenance, which his constant exposure 
 to weather had rendered brown as a hazel nut, grew 
 darker with anger, he advised the Jew to remember that 
 all the wealth he had acquired by sucking the blood of 
 his miserable victims had but swelled him like a bloated 
 spider, which might be overlooked while it kept in a 
 corner, but would be crushed if it ventured into the light. 
 This intimation, delivered in Norman-English with a firm 
 voice and a stern aspect, made the Jew shrink back ; and 
 he would have probably withdrawn himself altogether 
 from a vicinity so dangerous, had not the attention of 
 every one been called to the sudden entrance of Prince 
 John, who at that moment entered the lists, attended by 
 a numerous and gay train, consisting partly of laymen, 
 partly of churchmen, as light in their dress, and as gay 
 in their demeanour, as their companions. Among the 
 latter was the Prior of Jorvaulx, in the most gallant trini^ 
 which a dignitary of the church could venture to exhibit. 
 Fur and gold were not spared in his garments ; and the 
 point of his 'boots, out-he'roding 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 
 prevented him from putting his foot into the stirrup. 
 This, however, was a slight inconvenience to the gallant 
 Abbot, who, perhaps even rejoicing in the opportunity to 
 display his accomplished horsemanship before so many 
 spectators, especially of the fair sex, dispensed with the 
 use of these supports to a timid rider. The rest of Prince 
 John's retinue consisted of the favourite leaders of his 
 mercenary troops, some marauding barons and profligate 
 attendants upon the court, with several Knights Templars 
 and Knights of St. John. 
 
IVANHOE. 73 
 
 It may be here remarked, that the knights of these two 
 orders were accounted hostile to King Richard, having 
 adopted the side of Philip of France in the long train of 
 disputes which took place in Palestine betwixt that mon- 
 arch and the lion-hearted King of England. It was the 
 well-known consequence of this discord that Richard's 
 repeated victories had been rendered fruitless, his roman- 
 tic attempts to besiege Jerusalem disappointed, and the 
 fruit of all the glory which he had acquired had dwindled 
 into an uncertain truce with the Sultan Saladin. With 
 the same policy which had dictated the conduct of their 
 brethren in the Holy Land, the Templars and Hospitallers 
 in England and Normandy attached themselves to the 
 faction of Prince John, having little reason to desire the 
 return of Richard to England, or the succession of Arthur, 
 his legitimate heir. For the opposite reason, Prince John 
 hated and contemned the few Saxon families of conse- 
 quence which subsisted in England, and omitted no 
 opportunity of mortifying and affronting them ; being 
 conscious that his person and pretensions were disliked 
 by them, as well as by the greater part of the English 
 commons, who feared farther innovation upon their rights 
 and liberties from a sovereign of John's licentious and 
 tyrannical disposition. 
 
 Attended by this gallant equipage, himself well mounted, 
 and splendidly dressed in crimson and in gold, bearing 
 upon his hand a falcon, and having his head covered by 
 a rich fur bonnet, adorned with a circle of precious stones, 
 from which his long curled hair escaped and overspread 
 his shoulders, Prince John, upon a grey and high-mettled 
 palfrey, caracoled within the lists at the head of his 
 jovial party, laughing loud with his train, and eyeing 
 with all the boldness of royal criticism the beauties who 
 adorned the lofty galleries. 
 
 Those who remarked in the physiognomy of the Prince 
 a dissolute audacity, mingled with extreme haughtiness 
 and indifference to the feelings of others, could not yet 
 deny to his countenance that sort of comeliness which 
 belongs to an open set of features, well formed by nature, 
 modelled by art to the usual rules of courtesy, yet so far 
 
74 IVANHOE. 
 
 frank and honest that they seemed as if they disclaimed 
 to conceal the natural workings of the soul. Such an 
 expression is often mistaken for manly frankness, when 
 in truth it arises from the reckless indifference of a liber- 
 tine disposition, 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 splendour of Prince John's 
 rheno (i.e., fur tippet), the richness of his cloak, lined 
 with the most costly sables, his maroquin boots and golden 
 spurs, together with the grace with which he managed 
 his palfrey, 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 
 towards the higher places of the assembly. The quick 
 eye of Prince John instantly recognised the Jew, but was 
 much more agreeably attracted by the beautiful daughter 
 of Zion, who, terrified by the tumult, clung close to the 
 arm of her aged father. 
 
 The figure of Rebecca might indeed have compared 
 with the proudest beauties of England, even though it 
 had been judged by as shrewd a connoisseur as Prince 
 John. Her form was exquisitely symmetrical, and was 
 shown to advantage by a sort of Eastern dress, which she 
 wore according to the fashion of the females of her nation. 
 Her turban of yellow silk suited well with the darkness 
 of her complexion. The brilliancy of her eyes, the su- 
 perb 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, ex- 
 hibiting flowers in their natural colours embossed upon a 
 purple ground, permitted to be visible — all these consti- 
 tuted a combination of loveliness which yielded not to 
 the most beautiful of the maidens who surrounded her. 
 It is true, that of the golden and pearl-studded clasps 
 which closed her vest from the throat to the waist, the 
 
IVANHOE. 75 
 
 three uppermost were left unfastened on account of the 
 heat, which, something enlarged the prospect to which we 
 allude. A diamond necklace, with pendants of inestima- 
 ble value, were by this means also made more conspicu- 
 ous. The feather of an ostrich, fastened in her turban 
 by an agraffe set with brilliants, 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 sayest thou, Prior Aymer ? — By the 
 Temple of that wise king, which our wiser brother Bich- 
 ard proved unable to recover, she is the very Bride of 
 the Canticles ! " 
 
 " The Bose of Sharon and the Lily of the Valley," an- 
 swered the Prior, in a sort of snuffling tone ; "but your 
 Grace must remember she is still but a Jewess." 
 
 "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 danc- 
 ing there. By the body of St. Mark, my prince of sup- 
 plies, with his lovely Jewess, shall have a place in the 
 gallery ! — What is she, Isaac ? Thy wife or thy daugh- 
 ter, that Eastern houri that thou lockest under thy arm 
 as thou wouldst thy treasure-casket ? " 
 
 " My daughter Bebecca, so please your ' Grace," an- 
 swered 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 laugh- 
 ter, 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 
 
76 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 impolite 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 an- 
 cient royal race many of their infirmities had descended 
 to Athelstane. He was comely in countenance, bulky 
 and strong in person, and in the flower of his age ; yet 
 inanimate in expression, dull-eyed, heavy-browed, inac- 
 tive and sluggish in all his motions, and so slow in reso- 
 lution, that the soubriquet of one of his ancestors was 
 conferred upon him, and he was very generally called 
 Athelstane the Unready. His friends — and he had 
 many who, as well as Cedric, were passionately attached 
 to him — contended that this sluggish temper arose not 
 from want of courage, but from mere want of decision ; 
 others alleged that his hereditary vic_e 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 ofjf 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 confounded 
 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 inertke 
 to the will of John ; and, without stirring or making any 
 motion whatever of obedience, opened his large grey 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 
 
IVANHOE. 11 
 
 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 exe- 
 cuted the commands of the Prince before Athelstane the 
 Unready had recovered presence of mind sufficient even 
 to draw back his person from the weapon, had not Cedric, 
 as prompt as his companion was tardy, unsheathed, with 
 the speed of lightning, the short sword which he wore, 
 and at a single blow severed the point of the lance from 
 the handle. The blood rushed into the countenance of 
 Prince John. He swore one of his deepest oaths, and 
 was about to utter some threat corresponding in violence, 
 when he was diverted from his purpose, partly by his 
 own attendants, who gathered around him conjuring him 
 to be patient, partly by a general exclamation of the 
 crowd, uttered in loud applause of the spirited conduct 
 of Cedric. The Prince rolled his eyes in indignation, as 
 if to collect some safe and easy victim ; and chancing to 
 encounter the firm glance of the same archer whom we 
 have already noticed, and who seemed to persist in his 
 gesture of applause, in spite of the frowning aspect which 
 the Prince bent upon him, he demanded his reason for 
 clamouring thus. 
 
 " I always add my hollo," said the yeoman, " 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 woodsman's distance, I 
 can hit," answered the yeoman. 
 
 " 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 grand- 
 father, at once incensed and alarmed Prince John. He 
 
78 IVANHOE. 
 
 satisfied himself, however, with commanding the men- 
 at-arms, who surrounded the lists, to keep an eye on the 
 braggart, pointing to the yeoman. 
 
 " By St. 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 amongst 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 impov- 
 erished descendant of the line of Montdidier, by no means 
 stimulated him to an intrusion upon the privileges of the 
 wealthy Saxons. 
 
 " Up, infidel dog, when I command you," said Prince 
 John, " or I will have thy swarthy hide stript off and 
 tanned for horse-furniture ! " 
 
 Thus urged, the Jew began to ascend the steep and 
 narrow steps which led up to the gallery. 
 
 " Let me see," said the Prince, " who dare stop him ! ' 
 fixing his eye on Cedric, whose attitude intimated his in- 
 tention to hurl the Jew down headlong. 
 
 The catastrophe was prevented by the clown Wamba, 
 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 excel- 
 lent 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 
 
IVANHOE. 79 
 
 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 
 Weatherbrain, 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 vanquished beside the victor were false heraldry." 
 
 " Knave upon fool were worse," answered the Jester, 
 " and Jew upon bacon worst of all." 
 
 " Grarnercy ! 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 endeavouring to 
 ascertain how few coins might pass for a handful, the 
 Prince stooped from his jennet and settled Isaac's doubts 
 by snatching the pouch itself from his side ; and flinging 
 to Wamba a couple of the gold pieces which it contained, 
 he pursued his career round the lists, leaving the Jew to 
 the derision of those around him, and himself receiving 
 as much applause from the spectators' as if he had done 
 some honest and honourable action. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 At this the challenger with fierce defy 
 His trumpet sounds ; the challenged makes reply ; 
 With clangour 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. 
 
 Palarnon and Arcite. 
 
 In the midst of Prince John's cavalcade, he suddenly 
 stopt, and appealing to the Prior of Jorvaulx, declared 
 the principal business of the day had been forgotten. 
 
80 IVAN HOE. 
 
 " By my halidom," said he, " we have neglected, Sir 
 Prior, to name the fair Sovereign of Love and of Beauty, 
 by whose white hand the palm is to be distributed. For 
 my part, I am liberal in my ideas, and I care not if I give 
 my vote for the black-eyed Rebecca." 
 
 " Holy Virgin," answered the Prior, turning up his 
 eyes in horror, " a Jewess ! — We should deserve to be 
 stoned out of the lists; and I am not yet old enough to 
 be a martyr. Besides, I swear by my patron 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 
 attendants. 
 
 "This passes a jest, my lord," said De Bracy; "no 
 knight here will lay lance in rest if such an insult is 
 attempted." 
 
 " It is the mere wantonness of insult," said one of the 
 oldest and most important of Prince John's followers, 
 Waldemar Fitzurse, " and if your Grace attempt it, can- 
 not but prove ruinous to your projects." 
 
 " I entertained you, sir," said John, reining up his 
 palfrey haughtily, "for my follower, but not for my 
 counsellor." 
 
 " Those who follow your Grace in the paths which you 
 tread," said Waldemar, ' but speaking in a low voice, 
 " acquire the right of counsellors ; for your interest and 
 safety are not more deeply gaged than our 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 your- 
 selves." 
 
 " 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," 
 
IVANHOE. 81 
 
 " 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." £'f 
 
 " 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 
 impatient, the time advances, and highly fit it is that 
 the sports should commence." 
 
 Prince John, though not yet a monarch, had in Walde- 
 mar Fitzurse all the inconveniences of a favourite minis- 
 ter, who, in_serving Jhjs^ 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 rjiece of round flat board 
 was fixed, so that no danger was encountered, save from 
 the shock of the horses and riders. But if the shield 
 was touched with the sharp end of the lance, the combat 
 was understood to be at outrance, that is, the knights .^ 
 were to fight with sharp weapons, as in actual battle. 
 
 Thirdly, when the knights present had accomplished 
 
 _^J^ their vow, by each of them breaking five lances, the 
 
 Prince was to declare the victor in the first day's tourney, 
 
 who should receive as prize a war-horse of exquisite 
 
 beauty and matchless strength; and in addition to this 
 
 reward of valour, it was now declared, he should have 
 
 the peculiar honour of naming the Queen of Love and 
 
 A Beauty, by whom the prize should be given on the ensu- tl ^f 
 
 ^ ing day. Fourthly, it was announced that, on the second 
 
 G 
 
n 
 
 
 82 IVANHOE. 
 
 day, there should be a general tournament, in which ah 
 the* knights present, who were desirous to win praise, 
 might take part; and being divided into two bands, of 
 equal numbers, might fight it out manfully until the 
 signal was given by Prince John to cease the combat. 
 The elected Queen of Love and Beauty was then to crown 
 the knight whom the Prince should adjudge to have borne 
 himself best in this second day, with a coronet com- 
 posed 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, (eats of archery, of bull- 
 baiting, and other popular amusements were to be prac- 
 tised, for the more immediate amusement of the populace. 
 In this manner did Prince John endeavour to lay the 
 foundation of a popularity which he was perpetually 
 throwing down by some inconsiderate act of wanton 
 aggression upon the feelings and prejudices of the people. 
 
 The 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 vari- 
 ous 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 em- 
 broidery, relieving, and at the same time setting off, its 
 splendour. 
 
 The heralds finished their proclamation with their 
 usual cry of " Largesse, largesse, gallant knights ! '' and 
 gold and silver pieces were showered on them from the 
 galleries, it being a high point of chivalry to exhibit lib- 
 erality towards those whom the age accounted at once the 
 secretaries and the historians of honour. The bounty of the 
 spectators was acknowledged by the customary shouts of 
 " Love of ladies — Death of champions — Honour to the 
 generous — Glory to the brave ! " To which the more 
 humble spectators added their acclamations, and a num- 
 erous band of trumpeters the flourish of their martial 
 instruments. When these sounds had ceased, the heralds 
 
 ■a - 
 
IVANHOE. 83 
 
 withdrew from the lists in gay and glittering proces- 
 sion, 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 ends of the lists. 
 Meantime, the enclosed space at the northern extremity 
 of the lists, large as it was, was now completely crowded 
 with knights desirous to prove their skill against the 
 challengers, and, when viewed from the galleries, pre- 
 sented the appearance of a sea of waving plumage, in- 
 termixed 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 rest- 
 less 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 author- 
 ity (in the Wardour Manuscript) records at great length 
 their devices, their colours, and the embroidery of their 
 horse trappings. It is unnecessary to be particular on 
 these subjects. To borrow lines from a contemporary 
 poet, who has written but too little — 
 
 " The knights are dust, 
 And their good swords are rust, 
 Their souls are with the saints, we trust." 
 
 Their escutcheons have long mouldered from the walls 
 of their castles. Their castles themselves are but green 
 mounds and shattered ruins — the place that once knew 
 them knows them no more — nay, many a race since 
 theirs has died out and been forgotten in the very land 
 which they occupied with all the authority of feudal pro- 
 prietors 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, 
 
84 IVANHOE. 
 
 they exhibited their paces, together with the grace and 
 dexterity of the riders. As the procession entered the 
 lists, the sound of a wild barbaric music was heard from 
 behind the tents of the challengers, where the performers 
 were concealed. It was of Eastern origin, having been 
 brought from the Holy Land ; and the mixture of the 
 cymbals and bells seemed to bid welcome at once, and 
 defiance, to the knights as they advanced. With the eyes 
 of an immense concourse of spectators fixed upon them, 
 the five knights advanced up the platform upon which 
 the tents of the challengers stood, and there separating 
 themselves, each touched slightly, and with the re- 
 verse of his lance, the shield of the antagonist to whom 
 he wished to oppose himself. The lower orders of spec- 
 tators in general — nay, many of the higher class, and it 
 is even said several of the ladies — were rather disap- 
 pointed at the champions choosing the arms of courtesy. 
 For the same sort of persons who, in the present day, 
 applaud most highly the deepest tragedies were then 
 interested in a tournament exactly in proportion to the 
 danger incurred by the champions engaged. 
 
 Having intimated their more pacific purpose, the cham- 
 pions retreated to the extremity of the lists, where they 
 remained drawn up in a line ; while the challengers, 
 sallying each from his pavilion, mounted their horses, 
 and, headed by Brian de Bois-Guilbert, descended from 
 the platform and opposed themselves individually to the 
 knights who had touched their respective shields. 
 
 At the flourish of clarions and trumpets, they started 
 out against each other at full gallop ; and such was the 
 superior dexterity or good fortune of the challengers, that 
 those opposed to Bois-Guilbert, Malvoisin, and Front-de- 
 Boeuf rolled on the ground. The antagonist of Grant- 
 mesnil, instead of bearing his lance-point fair against the 
 crest or the shield of his enemy, swerved so much from 
 the direct line as to break the weapon athwart the person 
 of his opponent — a circumstance which was accounted 
 more disgraceful than that of being actually unhorsed, 
 because the latter might happen from a icident, whereas 
 the former evinced awkwardness and want of manage- 
 
IVANHOE. 85 
 
 ment of the weapon and of the horse. The fifth knight 
 alone maintained the honour of his party, and parted 
 fairly with the Knight of St. John, both splintering their 
 lances without advantage on either side. 
 
 The shouts of the multitude, together with the acclama- 
 tions of the heralds and the clangour of the trumpets, 
 announced the triumph of the victors and the defeat of 
 the vanquished. The former retreated to their pavilions, 
 and the latter, gathering themselves up as they could, 
 withdrew from the lists in disgrace and dejection, to 
 agree with their victors concerning the redemption of 
 their arms and their horses, which, according to the laws 
 of the tournament, they had forfeited. The fifth of their 
 number alone tarried in the lists long enough to be 
 greeted by the applauses of the spectators, amongst whom 
 he retreated, to the aggravation, doubtless, of his com- 
 panions' 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 chal- 
 lengers, not one of whom lost his seat or swerved from his 
 charge — misfortunes which befell one or two of their 
 antagonists in each encounter. The spirits, therefore, of 
 those opposed to them seemed to be considerably damped 
 by their continued success. Three knights only appeared 
 on the fourth entry, who, avoiding the shields of Bois- 
 G-uilbert and Front-de-Boeuf, contented themselves with 
 touching those of the three other knights who had not alto- 
 gether manifested the same strength and dexterity. This 
 politic selection did not alter the fortune of the field : the 
 challengers were still successful. One of their antago- 
 nists was overthrown ; and both the others failed in the 
 attaint, that is, in striking the helmet and shield of their 
 antagonist firmly and strongly, with the lance held in a 
 direct line, so that the weapon might break unless the 
 champion was overthrown. 
 
 After this fourth encounter, there was a considerable 
 pause y nor did it appear that any one was very desirous 
 of renewing the contest. The spectators murmured 
 among themselves j for, among the challengers, Malvoi- 
 
86 IVANHOE. 
 
 sin and Front-de-Boeuf were unpopular from their char- 
 acters, 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 advan- 
 tage gained by the Norman challengers, a repeated tri- 
 umph over the honour of England. His own education 
 had taught him no skill in the games of chivalry, al- 
 though, 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 disposi- 
 tion too inert and unambitious to make the exertions 
 which Cedric seemed to expect from him. 
 
 "The day is against England, my lord," said Cedric, 
 in a marked tone ; " are you not tempted to take the 
 lance ? " 
 
 " I shall tilt to-morrow," answered Athelstane, " in the 
 melee ; it is not worth while for me to arm myself to-day." 
 
 Two things displeased Cedric in this speech. It con- 
 tained the Norman word melee (to express the general 
 conflict), and it evinced some indifference to the honour 
 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 compli- 
 ment; but Cedric, who better understood the Jester's 
 meaning, darted at him a severe and menacing look ; and 
 lucky it was for Wamba, perhaps, that the time and 
 place prevented his receiving, notwithstanding his place 
 and service, more sensible marks of his master's resent- 
 ment. 
 
IYANHOE. 87 
 
 The pause in the tournament was still uninterrupted, 
 excepting by the voices cf 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 animated the jousts of former times. Prince 
 John began to talk to his attendants about making ready 
 the banquet, and the necessity of adjudging the prize to 
 Brian de Bois-Guilbert, who had, with a single spear, over- 
 thrown 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 armour, the new adventurer did not greatly exceed the 
 middle size, and seemed to be rather slender than strongly 
 made. His suit of armour 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 
 Desdichado, 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 man- 
 aged his steed, and something of youthful grace which he 
 displayed in his manner, won him the favour of the mul- 
 titude, which some of the lower classes expressed by call- 
 ing 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 
 
88 IVANHOE. 
 
 hints, ascended the platform by the sloping alley which 
 led to it from the lists, and to the astonishment of all 
 present, riding straight np to the central pavilion, struck 
 with the sharp end of his spear the shield of Brian de 
 Bois-Guilbert until it rang again. All stood astonished 
 at his presumption, but none more than the redoubted 
 knight whom he had thus defied to mortal combat, and 
 who, little expecting so rude a challenge, was standing 
 carelessly at the door of the pavilion. 
 
 " Have you confessed yourself, brother," said the Tem- 
 plar, "and have you heard mass this morning, that you 
 peril your life so frankly ? " , ft [ 
 
 " 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-G-uiibert, 
 " and look your last 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 
 tiorse and a new lance, for by my honour you will need 
 both." 
 
 Having expressed himself thus confidently, he reined 
 his horse backward down the slope 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 an- 
 tagonist. 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 honour was too nearly con- 
 cerned to permit his neglecting any means which might 
 ensure victory over his presumptuous opponent. He 
 changed his horse for a proved and fresh one of great 
 strength and spirit. He chose a new and tough spear, 
 lest the wood of the former might have been strained in 
 the previous encounters he had sustained. Lastly, he 
 laid aside his shield, which had received some little 
 damage, and received another from his squires. His first 
 
^"trticl^.^'rtj'e sf^arf^ cruA of lj, s - sloear 
 ltj«, shield ofj^ri'an de fSors-^mlkerr* 
 
 ^5 
 
 X 
 
 t^^A.. 
 
IVANHOE. 89 
 
 had only borne the general device of his rider, represent- 
 ing two knights riding upon one horse, an emblem ex- 
 pressive of the original humility and poverty of the Tem- 
 plars, qualities which they had since exchanged for the 
 arrogance and wealth that finally occasioned their sup- 
 pression. Bois-Guilbert's new shield bore a raven in full 
 flight, holding in its claws a skull, and bearing the motto, 
 Gave le Oorbeau. \^ n&A/j^ 
 
 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 pos- 
 sibility that the encounter could terminate well for the 
 Disinherited Knight; yet his courage and gallantry se- 
 cured the general 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 centre 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 backwards upon its haunches. The address of the 
 riders recovered their steeds by use of the bridle and 
 spur ; and having glared on each other for an instant 
 with eyes which seemed to flash fire through the bars of 
 their visors, each made a 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 in- 
 terest 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 clamour of applause was hushed 
 into a silence so deep and so dead that it seemed the mul- 
 titude were afraid even to breathe. 
 
 A few minutes' pause having been allowed, that the 
 combatants and their horses might recover breath, Prince . 
 •John with his truncheon signed to the trumpets to sound 
 the onset. The champions a second time sprung from 
 their stations, and closed in the centre of the lists, with 
 
90 IVANHOE. 
 
 the same speed, the same dexterity, the same violence, 
 but not the same equal fortune as before. 
 
 In this second encounter, the Templar aimed at the 
 centre of his antagonist's shield, and struck it so fair and 
 forcibly that his spear went to shivers, and the Disinherited 
 Knight reeled in his saddle. On the other hand, that 
 champion had, in the beginning of his career, directed the 
 point of his lance towards 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 irresist- 
 ible. 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 ac- 
 clamations with which it was hailed by the spectators, 
 he drew his sword and waved it in defiance of his 
 conqueror. The Disinherited Knight sprung from his 
 steed, and also unsheathed his sword. The marshals of 
 the field, however, spurred their horses between them r 
 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, with axe, or with sword, I am alike ready to en- 
 counter thee." 
 
 More and angrier words would have been exchanged, 
 but the marshals, crossing their lances betwixt them, 
 compelled them to separate. The Disinh erited Knight 
 returned to his first station, and Bois-Guilbert to his tent, 
 
IVANHOE. 91 
 
 where he remained for the rest of the day in an agony of 
 
 despair. s3ffi 
 
 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- 
 counter them in the order in which they pleased to 
 advance against him. 
 
 The gigantic Front-de-Boeuf, armed in sable armour, 
 was thr 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 advan- 
 tage. Both knights broke their lances fairly, but Front- 
 de-Boeuf, who lost a stirr up in. the encounter, was adjudged 
 to have the disadvantage. 7 ' 
 
 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 Dis- 
 inherited 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 this accident afforded him, raised his lance, and 
 passing his antagonist without touching him, wheeled 
 his horse and rode back again to his own end of the lists, 
 offering his antagonist, by a herald, the chance of a second 
 encounter. This De Grantmesnil declined, avowing him- 
 self vanquished as much by the courtesy as by the address 
 of his opponent. 
 
 Ralph de Vipont summed up the list of the stranger's 
 triumphs, being hurled to the ground with such force 
 
92 IV AN HOE. 
 
 that the blood gushed from his nose and his mouth, and 
 he was borne senseless from the lists. 
 
 The acclamations of thousands applauded the unani- 
 mous award of the Prince and marshals, announcing that 
 day's honours to the Disinherited Knight. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 In the midst was seen 
 A lady of a more majestic, mien, 
 By stature and by beauty mark'd their sovereign Queen. 
 
 • •••*••» 
 
 And as in beauty she surpassed the choir, 
 So nobler than the rest was her attire ; 
 A crown of ruddy gold enclosed her brow, 
 Plain without pomp, and rich without a show ; 
 A branch of Agnus Castus in her hand, 
 She bore aloft her symbol of command. 
 
 The Flower and the Leaf. 
 
 William de Wyvil and Stephen de Martival, the 
 marshals of the field, were the first to offer their con- 
 gratulations 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 cour- 
 tesy, 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 
 amidst the frequent and capricious vows by which knights 
 were accustomed to bind themselves in the days of chiv- 
 alry, there were none more common than those by which 
 they engaged to remain incognito for a certain space, or 
 until some particular adventure was achieved. The mar- 
 shals, therefore, pressed no farther into the mystery of 
 the Disinherited Knight, but, announcing to Prince John 
 the conqueror's desire to remain unknown, they requested 
 permission to bring him before his Grace, in order that 
 he might receive the reward of his valour. 
 
IVANHOE. 93 
 
 John's curiosity was excited by the mystery observed 
 by the stranger ; and, being already displeased with the 
 issue of the tournament, in which the challengers whom 
 he favoured had been successively defeated by one knight, 
 he answered haughtily to the marshals, " By the light of 
 Our Lady's brow, this same knight hath been disinherited 
 as well of his courtesy as of his lands, since he desires to 
 appear before us without uncovering his face. — 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 girth 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 Hos- 
 pitaller was hurled from his saddle like a stone from a 
 sling." 
 
 " Boast not of that," said a Knight of St. John who 
 was present ; " your Temple champion had no better luck. 
 I saw your brave lance, Bois-Guilbert, roll thrice over, 
 grasping his hands full of sand at every turn." 
 
 De Bracy, being attached to the Templars, would have 
 replied, but was prevented by Prince John. " Silence, 
 sirs!" he said; "what unprofitable 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 had work enough to 
 keep him warm." J? 
 
 " Your Grace," said ,Waldemar Fitzurse, " will do less 
 than due honour to the victor if you compel him to wait 
 till we tell your Highness that which we cannot know ; 
 at least I can form no guess — unless he be one of the 
 good lances who accompanied King Richard to Palestine, 
 and who are now straggling homeward from the Holy 
 Land." 
 
 "It may be the Earl of Salisbury," said De Bracy; 
 "he is about the same pitch." 
 
94 I VAN HOE. 
 
 " Sir Thomas de Multon, the Knight of Gilsland, 
 rather," said Fitzurse ; " Salisbury is bigger in the 
 bones." A whisper arose among the train, but by whom 
 first suggested could not be ascertained. " It might be 
 the King — it might be Richard Cceur-de-Lion himself ! " 
 
 " Over God's forbode ! " said Prince John, involuntarily 
 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 Fitz- 
 urse ; " 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 armour ? — 
 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 High- 
 ness will see that he wants three inches of King Richard's 
 height, and twice as much of his shoulder breadth. The 
 very horse he backs could not have carried the ponderous 
 weight of King Richard through a single course." 
 
 While he was yet speaking, the marshals brought for- 
 ward 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 muc'h 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 valour, he caused to be delivered to him the war- 
 horse assigned as the prize, he trembled lest from the 
 barred visor of the mailed form before him an answer 
 might be returned in the deep and awful accents of 
 Richard the Lion-hearted. 
 
 But the Disinherited Knight spoke not a word in 
 reply to the compliment of the Prince, which he only 
 acknowledged with a profound obeisance. 
 
 The horse was led into the lists by two grooms richly 
 
IVANHOE. 95 
 
 dressed, the animal itself being fully accoutred with the 
 richest war-furniture ; which, however, scarcely added to 
 the value of the noble creature in the eyes of those who 
 were judges. Laying one hand upon the pommel of the 
 saddle, the Disinherited Knight vaulted at once upon the 
 back of the steed without making use of the stirrup, and, 
 brandishing aloft his lance, rode twice around the lists, 
 exhibiting the points and paces of the horse with the 
 skill of a perfect horseman. 
 
 The appearance of vanity which might otherwise have 
 been attributed to this display was removed by the pro- 
 priety shown in exhibiting to the best advantage the 
 princely reward with which he had been just honoured, 
 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 valour, by 
 selecting from among the beauties who graced the gal- 
 leries a lady who should till 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 Knieht turned 
 towards the throne, and, sinking his lance until the point 
 was within a foot of the ground, remained motionless, as 
 if expecting John's commands ; while all admired the 
 sudden dexterity with which he instantly reduced his 
 fiery steed from a state of violent emotion and high ex- 
 citation 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 Honour 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. Never- 
 theless, it is your undoubted prerogative to confer on 
 
96 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 complete. — Raise your lance." 
 
 The Knight obeyed ; and Prince John placed upon its 
 point a coronet of green satin, having around its edge a 
 circlet of gold, the upper edge of which was relieved by 
 arrow-points and hearts placed interchangeably, like the 
 strawberry leaves and balls upon a ducal crown. 
 
 In the broad hint which he dropped respecting the 
 daughter of Waldemar Fitzurse, John had more than 
 one motive, each the offspring of a mind which was a 
 strange mixture of carelessness and presumption with 
 low artifice and cunning. He wished to banish from the 
 minds of the chivalry around him his own indecent and 
 unacceptable jest respecting the Jewess Rebecca; he was 
 desirous of conciliating Alicia's father, Waldemar, of 
 whom he stood in awe, and who had more than once 
 shown himself dissatisfied during the course of the day's 
 proceedings. He had also a wish to establish himself in 
 the good graces of the lady ; for John was at least as 
 licentious in his pleasures as profligate in his ambition. 
 But besides all these reasons, he was desirous to raise 
 up against the Disinherited Knight, towards whom he 
 already entertained a strong dislike, a powerful enemy 
 in the person of Waldemar Fitzurse, 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 trium- 
 phant beauty, and pacing forwards as slowly as he had 
 hitherto rode swiftly around the lists, he seemed to exer- 
 cise 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 for- 
 ward, and essayed to seem utterly unconscious of what 
 
IVANHOE. 97 
 
 was going on ; some drew back in alarm, which was per- 
 haps affected; some endeavoured to forbear smiling; 
 and there were two or three who laughed outright. 
 There were also some who dropped their veils over their 
 charms ; but as the Wardour Manuscript says these were 
 fair ones of ten years' standing, it may be supposed that, 
 having had their full share of such vanities, they were 
 willing to withdraw their claim in order to give a fair 
 chance to the rising beauties of the age. 
 
 ,Mj£ngth the champion paused beneath the balcony 
 in which the Lady Eowena was placed, and the expecta- 
 tion of the spectators was excited to the utmost. 
 
 It must be owned that, if an interest displayed in his 
 success could have bribed the Disinherited Knight, the 
 part of the lists before which he paused had merited his 
 predilection. Cedric the Saxon, overjoyed at the dis- 
 comf iture of the Templar, and still more so at the mis- 
 carriage of his two malevolent neighbours, Eront-de-Bceuf 
 and Malvoisin, had, with his body half stretched over 
 the balcony, accompanied the victor in each course not 
 with his eyes only, but with his whole heart and soul. 
 The Lady Rowena had watched the progress of the day 
 with equal attention, though without openly betraying 
 the same intense interest. Even the unmoved Athel- 
 stane had shown symptoms of shaking off his apathy, 
 when, calling for a huge goblet of muscadine, he quaffed 
 it to the health of the Disinherited Knight. 
 
 Another group, stationed under the gallery occupied 
 by the Saxons, had shown no less interest in the fate of 
 the day. 
 
 " Father Abraham ! " said Isaac of York, when the 
 first course was run betwixt the Templar and the Disin- 
 herited 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's colt — and the noble armour that was worth so 
 many zecchins to Joseph Pareira, the armourer 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 
 
 H 
 
 ■ 
 
 .■•wC 
 
98 IV AN HOE. 
 
 Rebecca, " in doing such a dreadful battle, he can scarce 
 be expected to spare his horse and armour." 
 
 " Child ! " replied Isaac, somewhat heated, " thou 
 knowest not what thou speakest. His neck and limbs 
 
 are his own ; but his horse and armour belong to 
 
 Holy Jacob ! what was I about to say ? Nevertheless, 
 it is a good youth. — See, Rebecca ! — see, he is again 
 about to go up to battle against the Philistine ! — Pray, 
 child — pray for the safety of the good youth; and of 
 the speedy horse and the rich armour. — 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 armour of brass and of steel, for a prey 
 and for a spoil." 
 
 The same anxiety did the worthy Jew display during 
 every course that was run, seldom failing to hazard a 
 hasty calculation concerning the value of the horse and 
 armour which were forfeited to the champion upon each 
 new success. There had been therefore no small interest 
 taken in the success of the Disinherited Knight by those 
 who occupied the part of the lists before which he now 
 paused. 
 
 Whether from indecision or some other motive of hesi- 
 tation, the champion of the day remained stationary for 
 more than a minute, while the eyes of the silent audience 
 were riveted upon his motions ; and then, gradually and 
 gracefully sinking the point of his lance, he deposited 
 the coronet which it supported at the feet of the fair 
 Rowena. The trumpets instantly sounded, while the 
 heralds proclaimed the Lady Rowena the Queen of Beauty 
 and of Love for the ensuing day, menacing with suitable 
 penalties those who should be disobedient to her authority. 
 They then repeated their cry of Largesse, to which Cedric, 
 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 
 
IVANHOE. 99 
 
 Norman descent, who were as much unused to see the 
 preference given to a Saxon beauty as the Norman nobles 
 were to sustain defeat in the games of chivalry which 
 they themselves had introduced. But these sounds of 
 disaffection were drowned by the popular shout of " Long 
 live the Lady E-owena, 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, he saw himself neverthe- 
 less obliged to confirm the nomination of the victor, and 
 accordingly calling to norse, 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 compli- 
 ments, observing, at the same time, to those around him: 
 " By my halidome, sirs ! if the Knight's feats in arms 
 have shown that he hath limbs and sinews, his choice 
 hath no less proved that his eyes are none of the 
 clearest.'' 
 
 It was on this occasion, as during his whole life, John's 
 misfortune not perfectly to understand the characters of 
 those whom he wished to conciliate. Waldemar Fitzurse 
 was rather offended than pleased at the Prince stating 
 thus broadly an opinion that his daughter had been 
 
 .slighted, r j}yr*v 
 
 " 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 propor- 
 tion of that which is her due." 
 
 Prince John replied not ; but, spurring his horse, as if 
 to give vent to his vexation, he made the animal bound 
 forward to the gallery where Rowena was seated, with 
 the crown still at her feet. 
 
 " Assume," he said, " fair lady, the mark of your sover- 
 eignty, to which none vows homage more sincerely than 
 ourself, John of Anjou ; and if it please you to-day, with 
 
100 IVANHOE. 
 
 your noble sire and friends, to grace our banquet in the 
 Castle of Ashby, we shall learn to know the empress to 
 whose service we devote to-morrow." 
 
 Rowena remained silent, and Cedric answered for her 
 in his native Saxon. 
 
 " The Lady Rowena," he said, " possesses not the lan- 
 guage in which to reply to your courtesy, or to sustain 
 her part in your festival. I also, and the noble Athel- 
 stane of Coningsburgh, speak only the language, and 
 practise only the manners of our fathers. We therefore 
 decline with thanks your Highness's courteous invitation 
 to the banquet. To-morrow, the Lady Rowena will take 
 upon her the state to which she has been called by the 
 free election of the victor Knight, confirmed by the 
 acclamations of the people." 
 
 So saying, he lifted the coronet and placed it upon 
 Rowena's head, in token of her acceptance of the 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 ? " 
 
 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 endeavour to digest our 
 banquet as we may, though ungraced by the most suc- 
 cessful in arms, and his elected Queen of Beauty." 
 
 So saying, he prepared to leave the lists with his glit- 
 tering train, and his turning his steed for that purpose 
 was the signal for the breaking up and dispersion of the 
 spectators. 
 
 Yet, with the vindictive memory proper to offended 
 pride, especially when combined with conscious want of 
 desert, John had hardly proceeded three paces ere again, 
 
IVANHOE. 101 
 
 turning around, he fixed an eye of stern resentment upon 
 the yeoman who had displeased him in the Ocuvy part 01 
 the day, and issued his commands co'tbe •i , en<-ab-arms who 
 stood near : " On your life, suffer not that fellow to escape." 
 
 The yeoman stood the angry glance of the Prince with 
 the same unvaried steadiness which had marked his 
 former 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 ISTeedwood and Charnwood 
 must rear good archers." 
 
 " I," said Prince John to his attendants, but not in di- 
 rect reply — "I will see how he can draw his own ; and 
 / 0£p_fi-betide him unless l^is skill should prove some apology 
 'for Ms insolence ! » L ^-^ 
 
 " It is full time," said De Bracy, si that the outrecuklance ffi 
 of these peasants should be restrained by some striking 
 example." 
 
 Waldemar Fitzurse, 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 
 the most numerous part streamed towards 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 acclamations were bestowed upon Prince John, al- 
 though he was indebted for them rather to the splendour 
 of his appearance 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, un- 
 
7*-' 
 
 102 IVANHOE. 
 
 til, anxious to withdraw himself from popular notice, he 
 accepted the accommodation of one of those pavilions 
 pitched at the extremities of the lists, the use of which 
 was courteously tendered him by the marshals of the 
 field. On his retiring to his tent, many who had lingered 
 in the lists, to look upon and form conjectures concerning 
 him, also dispersed. 
 
 The signs and sounds of a tumultuous concourse of 
 men lately crowded together in one place, and agitated 
 by the same passing events, were now exchanged for the 
 distant hum of voices of different groups retreating in all 
 directions, and these speedily died away in silence. No 
 other sounds were heard save the voices of the 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 
 was erected; and these now began to glimmer through 
 the twilight, announcing the toil of the armourers, which 
 was to continue through the whole night, in order to re- 
 pair or alter the suits of armour 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. 
 
 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 coiifcagion from her sable wings ; 
 Vex'd and tormented", runs poor Barrabas, 
 With fatal curses towards these Christians. 
 
 Jew of Malta. 
 
 <t* 
 
 a u 
 
 The Disinherited Knight had no sooner reached his 
 pavilion than squires and pages in abundance tendered 
 

 IVANHOE. 103 
 
 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 com- 
 mand of Prince John, to lift his visor or to name his 
 name. But their officious inquisitiveness was not grati- 
 fied. The Disinherited Knight refused all other assist- 
 ance save that of his own squire, or rather yeoman — a 
 clownish-looking man, who, wrapt in a cloak of dark- 
 coloured felt, and having his head and face half-buried 
 in a Norman bonnet made of black fur, seemed to affect 
 the mcognito as much as his master. All others being 
 excluded from the tent, this attendant relieved his mas- 
 ter from the more burdensome parts of his armour, 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 Disin- 
 herited Knight had exchanged his armour for the long 
 robe usually worn by those of his condition, which, being 
 furnished 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 unnecessary, unless to persons to whom the face 
 of an individual chanced to be particularly well known. 
 
 The Disinherited Knight, therefore, stept boldly forth 
 to the front of his tent, and found in attendance the 
 squires of the challengers, whom he easily knew by their 
 russet and black dresses, each of whom led his master's 
 charger, loaded with the armour in which he had that 
 day fought. 
 
 " According to the laws of chivalry," said the foremost 
 of these men, " I, Baldwin de 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 armour used by the said Brian 
 de Bois-Guilbert in this day's passage of arms, leaving it 
 
104 1VANHOE. 
 
 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 honourable 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 myself, in truth and earnest the Disinherited, I 
 must be thus far bound to your masters, that they will, 
 of their courtesy, be pleased to ransom their steeds and 
 armour, since that which I wear I can hardly term mine 
 own." 
 
 " We stand commissioned, each of us," answered the 
 squire of Reginald Front-de-Bceuf, "to offer a hundred 
 zecchins in ransom of these horses and suits of armour." 
 
 " 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 a courtesy and generosity not 
 often practised, at least upon a scale so extensive. The 
 Disinherited Knight then addressed his discourse to 
 Baldwin, 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 challenge. — Meantime, let him be assured that 
 I hold him not as one of his companions, with whom I can 
 with pleasure exchange courtesies; but rather as one with 
 whom I stand upon terms of mortal defiance." 
 
TVANEOE. 105 
 
 "My master," answered Baldwin, "knows how to re- 
 quite 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 armour and 
 his horse here, being well assured that he will never deign 
 to mount the one nor wear the other." 
 
 " You have spoken well, good squire," said the Disin- 
 herited Knight, "well and boldly, as it beseemeth him 
 to speak who answers for an absent master. Leave not, 
 however, the horse and armour here. Restore them- to 
 thy master ; or, if he scorns to accept them, retain them, 
 good friend, for thine own use. So far as they are mine, 
 I bestow them upon you freely." 
 
 Baldwin made a deep obeisance, and retired with his 
 companions ; and the Disinherited Knight entered the 
 pavilion. 
 
 " Thus far, 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 playfellow, Wamba the Jester, of whom I 
 could never discover whether he were most knave or 
 fool. Yet I could scarce choose but laugh, when my 
 old master passed so near to me, dreaming all the while 
 that Gurth was keeping his porkers many a mile off, 
 in the thickets and swamps of Rotherwood. If I am 
 discovered " 
 
 " Enough," said the Disinherited Knight, " thou 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, 
 
106 IVAN HOE. 
 
 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 Ashby," continued his mas- 
 ter, " and find out Isaac the Jew of York, and let him 
 pay himself for the horse and arms with which his credit 
 supplied me." 
 
 "Nay, by St. Dunstan," replied 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 of his own 
 asking." So saying, he departed, axid left the Disinher- 
 ited Knight to his own perplexed ruminations, which, 
 upon more accounts than it is now possible to communi- 
 cate 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 reti- 
 nue 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 
 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 
 
IVANHOE. 107 
 
 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 apart- 
 ment 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 laboured under 
 great mental tribulation. " Jacob ! V he exclaimed — 
 r all ye twelve Holy Fathers of our tribe ! what a los- 
 ing 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 ! " 
 
 " Hut, father,'' said Rebecca^ '(you seemed to give the 
 gold to Prince John willingly.^ 
 
 <* Willingly! the blotch of Egypt upon him! — Will- 
 ingly, saidst thou ? — Ay, as willingly as when, in the 
 Gulf of Lyons, I flung over my merchandise to lighten 
 the ship, while she laboured in the tempest — robed the 
 seething billows in my choice silks — perfumed their 
 ^briny foam with myrrh and aloes — enriched their cav- 
 erns with gold and silver work ! And was not that an 
 hour of unutterable misery, though my hands made the 
 sacrifice ?J 
 
 'r But \$ was a sacrifice which Heaven exacted to save 
 our lives,j' answered Rebecca, ^ and the God of our fathers 
 has since blessed your store and your gettings.* 
 
 (f Ay,'? answered Isaac, (' but if the tyrant lays hold on 
 them as he did to-day, and compels me to smile while he 
 is robbing me ? — 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.j 
 
 N^Think not thus of it, my father,'] said Rebecca ; \P we 
 also have advantages. These Gentiles, cruel and oppres- 
 sive as they are, are in some sort dependent on the dis- 
 persed children of Zion, whom they despise and persecute. 
 Without the aid of our wealth they could neither furnish 
 
108 IVANHOE. 
 
 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. J 
 
 \ e Daughter,"} said Isaac, r thou hast harped upon an- 
 other string of sorrow. The goodly steed and the rich 
 armour, equal to the full profit of my adventure with our 
 Kirjath Jairam of Leicester — there is a dead loss too — 
 ay, a loss which swallows up the gains of a week — ay, 
 of the space between two Sabaoths — and yet.it may end 
 better than I now think, for 'tis a good youth.'' 
 
 r Assuredly/p said Eebecca, (^ you shall notTepent you^^lN 
 of requiting the good deed received of the stranger 
 knight. '^ \ 
 
 £1 trust so, daughter,'^ said Isaac, {' and I trust too in 
 the' rebuilding of Zion/but as well do I hope with my 
 own bodily eyes to see the walls and battlements of the 
 new Temple, as to see a Christian, yea, the very best of 
 Christians, repay a debt to a Jew, unless under the awe 
 of the judge and jailor."; 
 
 So saying, he resumea his discontented walk through 
 the apartment ; and Rebecca, perceiving that her attempts 
 at consolation only served to awaken new subjects of 
 complaint, wisely desisted from her unavailing efforts — 
 a prudential line of conduct, and we recommend to all 
 who set up for comforters and advisers to follow it in 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 
 ii?of their houses, the Jews refused themselves no expen- , 
 sive indulgences. At the same time the servant informed 
 Isaac that a Nazarene (so they termed Christians while 
 conversing among themselves) desired to speak with him. 
 He that would live by traffic must hold himself at the 
 
IVANHOE. 109 
 
 disposal of every one claiming business with him. Isaac 
 at once replaced on the table the untasted glass of Greek 
 wine which he had 'just raised to his lips, and saying 
 hastily to his daughter, \Rebecca, vej^ .thy self, "J com- 
 manded the stranger to be admitted. fg[: 
 
 Just as Rebecca had dropped over her fine features a 
 screen of silver_gauze which reached to her feet, the door 
 opened, and Gurth entered, wrapt in the ample folds of 
 his Norman mantle. His appearance was rather .suspi-y 
 cious 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 ?J' said Gurth, in 
 Saxon. x 
 
 fl 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 toHhe purpose?) answ'ered Gurth. 
 
 VAs much as my name is to thee,^ replied Isaac ; £for 
 without knowing thine, how can I hold intercourse with 
 theeh' 
 
 ^l£asily,J answered Gurth; '(I, being to pay money, 
 must know that I deliver it to the right person ; thou, 
 who art to receive it, wilt not, I think, care very greatly 
 by whose hands it is delivered. J 
 
 " " Oh,') said the Jew, {' you are come to pay monies ? 
 Holy Father Abraham ! that altereth our relation to each 
 other. And from whom dost thou bring it ?T 
 
 *' From the Disinherited Knight, "Jsaid Gurth, f< victor 
 in this day's tournament. It is the price of the armour 
 supplied to him by Kir j at h 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 armour. J 
 
 4 X 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 ? j J 
 
 " Holy Virgin ! 'J said Gurth, setting down the cup, 
 
 fik 
 
110 I VAN HOE. 
 
 " what nectar these unbelieving dogs drink, while true 
 Christians are fain to miaff ale as muddy and thick as 
 the draff we give to hogs : — What money have I brought 
 with me ? *? continued the Saxon, when he had finished 
 this uncivil ejaculation, fi even but a small sum ; some- 
 thing in hand the whilst. What, Isaac ! thou must 
 bear a conscience, though it be a Jewish one.'' 
 
 t " Nay, but," said Isaac, '■' thy master has won goodly 
 steeds and rich armours with the strength of his lance 
 and of his right hand — but 'tis a good youth — the Jew 
 will take these in present payment, and render him back 
 the surplus.'^ 
 
 " My master has disposed of them already," said Gurth. 
 
 " Ah ! that was wrong,'' said the Jew — -"that was the 
 part of a fool. No Christian here could buy so many 
 horses and armour — 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-bow 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, 7 if I should say that I 
 would take eighty zecchins for the good steed and the 
 rich armour,, which leaves me not a guilder's profit, have 
 you money to pay me ?Y ? 
 
 "Barely," said Gurth, though the sum demanded was 
 more reasonable than he expected, f and it will leave my 
 master nigh penniless. Nevertheless, if such be your 
 least offer, I must be content.'^ 
 
 i" Fill thyself another goblet' of wine," said the Jew. 
 " Ah ! eighty zecchins is too little. It leaveth no profit 
 for the usages of the monies ; and, besides, the good horse 
 may have suffered wrong in this day's encounter. Oh, 
 it was a hard and a dangerous meeting ! man and steed 
 rushing on each other like wild bulls of Bashan ! the 
 horse cannot but have had wrong.}' 
 
 •'And I say,*' replied Gurth, ("he is sound, wind and 
 limb j and you may see him now in your stable. And I 
 

 IVAN HOE. Ill 
 
 say, over and above, that seventy zecchins is enough for 
 the armour, 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) f'back to 
 my master.') \ 
 
 rNay, nay J/' said Isaac; i"lay down the talents — the 
 shekels — the eighty zecchins, and thou shalt see I will 
 consider thee liberally." \^K<^ 
 
 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 armour. 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 dropt it into his purse. It 
 seemed as if his avarice were struggling with his better 
 nature, and compelling him to pouch zecchin after zee- 
 chin, 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 clipt within the ring — 
 seventy -five — and that looketh light of weight — seventy- 
 six — when thy master wants money, let him come to 
 Isaac of York — seventy-seven — that is, with reasonable 
 security."} Here he made a considerable pause, and 
 Gurth hacl 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 — t 
 seventy-nine — and deservest something for thyself y 
 
 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 it in his heart 
 to part with it, so dropt it into his purse as if in absence 
 
112 IVANHOE. 
 
 ( 
 
 of mind, with the words, Y' Eighty completes the tale, and 
 I trnst thy master will reward thee handsomely. , Surely,") 
 he added, looking earnestly at the bag, " thou hast more 
 coins in that pouch ? j 
 
 Gurth grinned, which was his nearest approach to a 
 laugh, as he replied, 4 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 ! r He filled 
 himself, unbidden, a third goblet of wine, and left the 
 apartment without ceremony. 
 
 " Rebecca," said the Jew, " that Ishmaelite hath gone 
 somewhat beyond me. Nevertheless, his master is a good 
 youth — ay, and I am well pleased that he hath gained 
 shekels of gold and shekels of silver, even by the speed 
 of his horse and by the strength of his lance, which, like 
 that of G-oliath the Philistine, might vie with a weaver's 
 beam." 
 
 As he turned to receive Rebecca's answer, he observed 
 that during his ch affering with Gurth she had left the 
 apartment unperceived.' ' j^^ipJ^ x \ 
 
 In the meanwhile, Gurth had aescended the stair, and, 
 having reached the dark ante-chamber or hall, was puz- 
 zling to discover the entrance, when a figure in white, 
 shown by a small silver lamp whiciushe held in her hand, 
 beckoned him into a side apartment. Gurth had some 
 reluctance to obey the summons. Rough and hnpeiiious^'U^ 
 as a wild boar where only earthly force was to be appre- 
 hended, he had all the characteristic terrors of a Saxon 
 respecting jauns, forest fiends, white women, and the 
 whole of thesuperstitions 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 
 necromancers and cabalists. Nevertheless, after a mo- 
 ment's pause, he obeyed the beckoning summons of the 
 apparition, and followed her into the apartment which 
 she indicated, where he found, to his joyful surprise, that 
 his fair guide was the beautiful Jewess whom he had 
 
IVAN HOE. 113 
 
 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 
 Rebecca ; " 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 Rebecca, '{thou wilt find a hun- 
 dred. Restore to thy master that which is his due, and 
 enrich thyself with the remainder. Haste — begone — 
 stay not to render thanks ! and beware how you pass 
 through this crowded town, where thou mayst easily 
 lose both thy burden and thy life. — Reuben J' she added, 
 clapping her hands together, f light forth this stranger, 
 and fail not to draw lock and bar behind him." 
 
 Reuben, a dark-browed and black-bearded Israelite, 
 obeyed her summons, with a torch in his hand; undid 
 the outward door of the house, and conducting 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 h e stum bled up the 
 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 gu^ld 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 mas- 
 ter to the death, without hiding either my face or my 
 name." #£ 
 
114 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 1st Outlaw. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about you j>^/%, 
 • If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you. 
 
 Speed. Sir, we are undone ! these are the yillains 
 That all the travellers 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. 
 
 * 4 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 in the outskirts of the village, he found himself in 
 a deep lane, running between two banks overgrown with 
 hazel and holly, while here and there a dwarf oak hung 
 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 
 revelry, mixed occasionally with loud laughter, sometimes 
 broken by screams, and sometimes by wild strains of dis- 
 tant 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 jug- 
 glers 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 infernal bushes, that I might at least 
 see any of St. Nicholas's clerks before they spring on my 
 shoulders ! " 
 
IVANHOE. 115 
 
 G-urth 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 at- 
 tained 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 defence." 
 
 "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." v~v.ka.- 
 
 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 strag- 
 gling thicket, which lay betwixt it and the open common. 
 He was compelled to follow his rough conductors into the 
 very depth of this cover, where they stopt 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, appar- 
 ently 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 
 aath thirty zecchins, and returns sober from a village! 
 
116 IVANHOE. 
 
 An undeniable and unredeemable forfeit of all lie hath 
 about him." ^,. /r&JL 
 
 " 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 thy- 
 self." 
 
 " 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 we worship not St. Nicholas so de- 
 voutly 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 inclosed, 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 a 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 nought 
 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 of 
 that anon. How comes thy master by this gold ? Is it 
 of his inheritance, or by what means hath it accrued to 
 him ? " i?0 
 
 " By his good lance/' answered Gurth. " These bags 
 
IVANHOE. Ill 
 
 contain the ransom of four good horses and four good 
 suits of armour." 
 
 " How much is there ? " demanded- the robber. 
 
 " Two hundred zecchins." 
 
 " Only two hundred zecchins ! " said the bandit ; "your 
 master hath dealt liberally by the vanquished, and put 
 them to a cheap ransom. Name those who paid the gold." 
 
 Gurth did so. 
 
 "The armour 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 he 
 had said the word. " And what wert thou now doing at 
 Ashby with such a charge in thy custody ? " 
 
 "I went thither to render to Isaac the Jew of York," 
 replied Gurth, " the price of a suit of armour with which 
 he fitted my master for this tournament." 
 
 " And how much didst thou pay to Isaac ? — Methinks, 
 to judge by weight, there is still two hundred zecchins in 
 this 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 ; 
 " darest thou trifle with us, that thou tellest such im- 
 probable 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 speak- 
 est 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. 
 
118 IVANHOE. 
 
 " 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 G-urth relaxed their 
 grasp while they stretched their necks to see the issue of 
 the search. Availing himself of their negligence, by a 
 sudden exertion of strength and activity Gurth shook 
 himself free of their hold, and might have escaped, could 
 he have resolved to leave his master's property behind 
 him. But such was no part of his intention. He 
 wrenched a quarter-staff from one of the fellows, struck 
 down the Captain, who was altogether unaware of his 
 purpose, and had 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 mas- 
 ter; the knight's matters must go before the squire's, 
 according to the due order of chivalry. Stand thou fast 
 in the meantime — if thou stir again, thou shalt have that 
 will make thee quiet for thy life — Comrades ! " he then 
 said, addressing his gang, " this purse is embroidered with 
 Hebrew characters, and I well believe the yeoman's tale 
 is true. The errant knight, his master, must needs pass 
 us toll-free. He is too like ourselves for us to make booty 
 of him, since dogs should not worry dogs where wolves 
 and foxes are to be found in abundance." 
 
 " Like us ! " answered one of the gang ; " I should like 
 to hear how that is made good." 
 
 " Why, thou fool," answered the Captain, " is he not 
 poor and disinherited as we are ? — Doth he not win his 
 substance at the sword's point as we do ? — Hath he not 
 beaten Front-de-Boeuf and Malvoisin, even as we would 
 beat them if we could ? — Is he not the enemy to life and 
 
IVANHOE. 119 
 
 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 Gande- 
 lyn, we had no such scruples of conscience. And this 
 insolent peasant — he too, I warrant me, is to be dis- 
 missed scatheless ? " 
 
 "Not if thou .canst scathe him," replied the Captain. 
 " Here, fellow," continued he, addressing Gurth, " canst 
 thou use the staff, that thou startst to it so readily ? " 
 
 " I think," said Gurth, " thou shouldst be best able to 
 reply to that question." 
 
 " Nay, by my troth, thou gavest me a round knock," 
 replied the Captain; "do as much for this fellow, and 
 thou shalt pass scot-free, and if thou dost not — why, by 
 my faith, as thou art such a sturdy knave, I think I must 
 pay thy ransom myself. — Take thy staff, Miller," he 
 added, " and keep thy head ; and do you others let the 
 fellow go, and give him a staff — there is light enough to 
 lay on load by." 
 
 The two champions, being alike armed with quarter- 
 staves, stepped forward into the centre 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 nourish round his head after the fashion 
 which the French call faire le moulinet, exclaimed boast- 
 fully, " 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 
 ot their adversary with the most rapid dexterity, while, 
 
120 IVANHOE. 
 
 from the continued clatter of their weapons, a person at 
 a distance might have supposed that there were at least 
 six persons engaged on each side. Less obstinate, and 
 even less dangerous, combats have been described in good 
 heroic verse ; but that of G-urth and the Miller must re- 
 main 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 stoutl} 7 " opposed, and at 
 hearing the laughter of his companions, who, as usual in 
 such cases, enjoyed his vexation. This was not a state 
 of mind favourable to the noble game of quarter-staff, in 
 which, as in ordinary cudgel-playing, the utmost coolness 
 is requisite ; and it gave G-urth, whose temper was steady, 
 though surly, the opportunity of acquiring a decided ad- 
 vantage, in availing himself of which he displayed great 
 mastery. 
 
 The Miller pressed furiously forward, dealing blows 
 with either end of his weapon alternately, and striving to 
 come to half-staff distance, while Gurth defended him- 
 self against the attack, keeping his hands about a yard 
 asunder, and covering himself by shifting his weapon 
 with great celerity, so as to protect his head and body. 
 Thus did he maintain the defensive, making his eye, foot, 
 . and hand keep true time, until, observing his antagonist 
 ,to lose wind, he darted the staff at his face with his left 
 hand ; and, as the Miller endeavoured to parry the thrust,^ 
 he slid his right hand down to his left, and with the full 
 swing of the weapon struck his opponent on the left side 
 of the head, who instantly measured his length upon the 
 green sward. 
 
 " Well and yeomanly done ! " shouted the robbers ; 
 " fair play and Old England for ever ! The Saxon has 
 saved both his purse and his hide, and the Miller has met 
 his match." 
 
 " Thou mayst go thy ways, my friend," said the Cap- 
 tain, addressing G-urth, in special confirmation of the 
 general voice, " and I will cause two of my comrades to 
 
^pe-ll Ar\A. yecn\2Lr^y done,. .sj>oc-fteo "tKe robbers 
 
 r> 
 
IVANHOE. 121 
 
 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 re- 
 cused to tell thy name — ask not after ours, nor endeavour 
 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 prom- 
 ised to attend to his recommendation. Two of the out- 
 laws, taking up their quarter-staves, and desiring Gurth 
 to follow close in the rear, walked roundly forward along 
 a bye-path, which traversed a 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 around their place of r^en^^ 
 dezvous^ - 6i^<u^ 
 
 \V lienthey arrived on the open heath, where Gurth 
 might have had some trouble in finding his road, the 
 thieves guided him straight forward to the top of a little 
 eminence, whence he could see, spread beneath him in 
 the moonlight, the palisades of the lists, the glimmering 
 pavilions pitched at either end, with the pennons which 
 adorned them fluttering in the moonbeam, and from 
 which could be heard the hum of the song with which 
 the sentinels were beguiling their night-watch. 
 
 Here the thieves stopt. 
 
 " We go with you no farther," said they ; " it were not 
 safe that we should do so. — Remember the warning you 
 have received : keep secret what has this night befallen 
 you, and you will have no room to repent it ; neglect what 
 is now told you, and the Tower of London shall not pro- 
 tect you against our revenge." 
 
 " Good night to you, kind sirs," said Gurth ; " I shall 
 remember your orders, and trust that there is no offence 
 in wishing you a safer and an honester trade." 
 
122 IVANHOE. 
 
 Thus they parted, the outlaws returning in the direc- 
 tion from whence they had come, and G-urth proceeding 
 to the tent of his master, to whom, notwithstanding the 
 injunction he had received, he communicated the whole 
 adventures of the evening. 
 
 The Disinherited Knight was filled with astonishment, 
 no less at the generosity of Rebecca, by which, however, 
 he resolved he would not profit, than that of the robbers, 
 to whose profession such a quality seemed totally for- 
 eign. His course of reflections upon these singular cir- 
 cumstances 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. x^OJo^ 
 
 The knight, therefore, stretched himself for repose 
 upon a rich couch with 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. 
 
 ? 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The heralds left their pricking up and down, J 
 
 Now ringen trumpets loud and clarion. 
 
 There~tSTio rnore,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 shieldes thick, 
 
 He feeleth through the heart-spone the prick ; • 
 
 Up springen speares, twenty feet in height, 
 
 Out go the swordes as the silver bright ; 
 
 The helms they to-hewn and to-shred ; 
 
 Out bursts the blood with stern stream es red. 
 
 Chaucer. 
 
 Morning arose in unclouded splendour, 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 centre, in order to secure a 
 
IVANHOE. 123 
 
 favourable situation for viewing the continuation of the 
 expected games. 
 
 The marshals and their attendants appeared next on 
 the field, together with the heralds, for the purpose of 
 receiving the names of the knights who intended to joust, 
 with the side which each chose to espouse.- -This was a 
 necessary preca ution, in order to secure equality betwixt 
 the two bodies who should be opposed to each other. 
 
 According to due formality, the Disinherited Knight 
 was to be considered as leader of the one body, while 
 Brian de 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 challenge adhered to his party, of course, except- 
 ing only Ralph de Vipont, whom his fall had rendered 
 unfit so soon to put on his armour. There was no want 
 of distinguished and noble candidates to fill up the ranks 
 on either side. 
 
 In fact, although the general tournament, in which all 
 knights fought at once, was more dangerous than single 
 encounters, they were, nevertheless, more frequented and 
 practised 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 valour 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-passen- 
 gers, 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 Kowena, unattended, however, by Athelstane. 
 
124 IVANHOE. 
 
 This Saxon lord had arrayed his tall and strong person 
 in armour, in order to take his place among the combat- 
 ants ; and, considerably to the surprise of Cedric, had 
 chosen to enlist himself on the part of the Knight Tem- 
 plar. 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 an- 
 swer 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 thejiru- 
 dence to keep to himself. Though his apathy of disposi- 
 tion prevented his taking any means to recommend him- 
 self to the Lady Rowena, he was, nevertheless, by no 
 means insensible to her charms, and considered his union 
 with her as a matter already fixed beyond doubt by the 
 assent of Cedric and her other friends. It had therefore 
 been with smothered displeasure that the proud though 
 indolent Lord of Coningsburgh beheld the victor of the 
 preceding day select Rowena as the object of that honour 
 which it became his privilege to confer. In order to 
 punish him for a preference which seemed to interfere 
 with his own suit, Athelstane, confident of his strength, 
 and to whom his flatterers, at least, ascribed great skill 
 in arms, had determined not only to deprive the Disin- 
 herited Knight of his powerful succour, but, if an oppor- 
 tunity should occur, to make him feel the weight of his 
 battle-axe. 
 
 De Bracy, and other knights attached to Prince John, 
 in obedience to a hint from him, had joined the party of 
 the challengers, John being desirous to secure, if possi- 
 ble, 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 dis- 
 tinguished a champion as the Disinherited Knight had 
 proved himself. 
 
 As soon as Prince John observed that the destined 
 Queen of the day had arrived upon the field, assuming 
 that air of courtesy which sat well upon him when he 
 
IVANHOE. 125 
 
 was pleased to exhibit it, he rode forward to meet her, 
 doffed his bonnet, and, alighting from his horse, assisted 
 ElieTLady Rowena from her saddle, while his followers 
 uncovered at the same time, and one of the most distin- 
 guished dismounted to hold her palfrey. 
 
 " It is thus," said Prince John, " that we set the duti- 
 ful 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 
 honours." 
 
 So saying, the Prince marshalled Rowena to the seat 
 of honour opposite his own, while the fairest and most 
 distinguished ladies present crowded after her to obtain 
 places as near as possible to their temporary sovereign. 
 
 No sooner was Rowena seated than a burst of music, 
 half drowned by the shouts of the multitude, greeted her 
 new dignity. Meantime, the sun shone fierce and bright 
 upon the polished arms of the knights of either side, 
 who crowded the opposite extremities of the lists, and 
 held eager conference together concerning the best 
 mode of arranging their line of battle and supporting 
 the conflict. 
 
 The heralds then proclaimed silence until the laws of 
 the tourney should be rehearsed. These were calculated/^ 
 in some degree to abate the dangers of the day — a pre- 
 caution the more necessary as the conflict was to be main- 
 tained with sharp swords and pointed lances. 
 
 The champions were therefore prohibited to thrust 
 with the sword, and were^onfined to striking. A knight, 
 it was announced, might use a mace or battle-axe at 
 pleasure; but the dagger was a prohibited weapon. A 
 knight unhorsed might renew the fight on foot with any 
 other on the opposite side in the same predicament ; but 
 mounted horsemen were in that case forbidden to assail 
 him. When any knight could force his antagonist to the 
 extremity of the lists, so as to touch the palisade with 
 his person or arms, such opponent was obliged to yield 
 himself vanquished, and his armour and horse were 
 placed at the disposal of the conqueror. A knight thus 
 
126 IVANHOE. 
 
 overcome was not permitted to take farther share in the 
 combat. If any combatant was struck down, and unable 
 to recover his feet, his squire or page might enter the 
 lists and drag his master out of the press ; but in that 
 case the knight was adjudged vanquished, and his arms 
 and horse declared forfeited. The combat was to cease 
 as soon as Prince John should throw down his leading 
 staff, or truncheon — another precaution usually taken to 
 prevent the unnecessary effusion of blood by the too long 
 endurance of a sport so desperate. Any knight breaking 
 the rules of the tournament, or otherwise transgressing 
 the rules of honourable chivalry, was liable' to be stript 
 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 favour from the 
 Queen of Beauty and 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 centre of the foremost 
 rank, a post which he did not occupy until each had care- 
 fully arranged the ranks of his party, and stationed every 
 one in his place. 
 
 It was a goodly, and at the same time an anxious, sight 
 to behold so many gallant champions, mounted bravely 
 and armed richly, stand ready prepared for an encounter 
 so formidable, seated on their war-saddles like so many 
 pillars of iron, and awaiting the signal of encounter with 
 the same ardour 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 exact- 
 
IVANHOE. 127 
 
 ness, lest either party had more or fewer than the ap- 
 pointed 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 allerV The trumpets sounded as he 
 spoke — the spears of the champions were at once low- 
 ered and placed in the rests — the spurs were dashed into 
 the flanks of the horses, and the two foremost ranks of 
 either party rushed upon each other in full gallop, and 
 met in the middle of the lists with a shock the sound of 
 which was heard at a mile's distance. The rear rank of 
 each party advanced at a slower pace to sustain the 
 defeated, and follow up the success of the victors, of 
 their party. 
 
 The consequences of the encounter were not instantly 
 seen, for the dust raised by the trampling of so many 
 steeds darkened the air, and it was a minute ere the 
 anxious spectators could see the fate of the encounter. 
 When the fight became visible, half the knights on each 
 side were dismounted — some by the dexterity of their 
 adversary's lance; some by the superior weight and 
 strength of opponents, which had borne down both horse 
 and man ; some lay stretched on 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 predicament ; and several on both sides, 
 who had received wounds by which they were disabled, 
 were stopping their blood by their scarfs, and endeav-^ 
 ouring to extricate themselves from the tumult. The 
 mounted knights, whose lances had been almost all broken 
 by the fury of the encounter, were now closely engaged 
 with their swords, shouting their war-cries, and exchang- 
 ing buffets, as if honour and life depended on the issue 
 of the combat. 
 
 The tumult was presently increased by the advance of 
 the second rank on either side, which, acting as a reserve, 
 now rushed on to aid their companions. The followers 
 of Brian de Bois-Guilbert shouted : " Ha ! Beau-seaid I 
 Beau-seant! Foe the Temple ! For the Temple ! " The 
 opposite party shouted in answer: "Besdichado! Desdi- 
 
128 IV AX HOE. 
 
 chado!" which watchword they took from the motto 
 upon their leader's shield. 
 
 The champions thus encountering each other with the 
 utmost fury, and with alternate success, the tide of battle 
 seemed to flow now toward the southern, now toward the 
 northern, extremity of the lists, as the one or the other 
 
 J \j 7 
 
 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 armour of the combatants was 
 now defaced with dust and blood, and gave way at 
 every stroke of the sword and battle-axe. The gay 
 plumage, shorn from the crests, drifted upon the breeze 
 like 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 com- 
 passion, -"feu 
 
 Yet such is the force of habit, that not onlv 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 certainlv. 
 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 afound encouraged the combatants, 
 not only by clapping their hands and waving their veils 
 and kerchiefs, but even by exclaiming, " Brave lance ! 
 Good sword ! n when anv 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 
 change of fortune, while all eyes were so riveted on the 
 lists that the spectators seemed as if they themselves 
 had dealt and received the blows which were there so 
 freely bestowed. And between every pause was heard 
 the voice of the heralds exclaiming. LEight on. brave 
 knights ! Man dies, but glory lives ! — Fight on — death 
 
IVANHOE. 129 
 
 is better than defeat ! — Fight on, brave knights ! — for 
 bright eyes behold your deeds ! " 
 
 Amid the varied fortunes of the combat, the eyes of 
 all endeavoured to discover the leaders of each band, 
 who, mingling in the thick of the fight, encouraged their 
 companions both by voice and example. Both displayed 
 srreat feats of gallantry, nor did either Bois-Guilbert or 
 the Disinherited Knight find in the ranks opposed to 
 them a champion who could be termed their unquestioned 
 match. They repeatedly endeavoured to single out each 
 other, spurred by mutual animosity, and aware that the 
 fall of either leader might loe 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 sepa- 
 rated by the eagerness of their followers, each of whom 
 was anxious to win honour 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 Tem- 
 plar and the Disinherited Knight at length encountered 
 hand to hand, with all the fury that mortal animosity, 
 joined to rivalry of honour, could inspire. Such was the 
 address of each in parrying and striking, that the spec- 
 tators broke forth into a unanimous and involuntary shout, 
 expressive of their delight and admiration. 
 
 ^utattliisjnoment the party of the Disinherited Knight 
 haclthe 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 immediately 
 exposed to them. Finding themselves freed from their 
 immediate antagonists, it seems to have occurred to both 
 these knights at the same instant that they would render 
 the most decisive advantage to their party by aiding the 
 Templar in his contest with his rival. Turning their 
 horses, therefore, at the same moment, the Norman 
 spurred against the Disinherited Knight on the one side 
 and the Saxon on the other. It was utterly impossible 
 
 K 
 
130 IYANHOE. 
 
 that the object of this unequal and unexpected assault 
 could have sustained it, had he not been warned by a 
 general cry from the spectators, who could not but take 
 interest in one exposed to such disadvantage. 
 
 "Beware! beware! Sir Disinherited ! " was shouted so 
 universally that the knight became aware of his danger • 
 and striking a full blow at the Templar, he reined back 
 his steed in the same moment, so as to escape the charge 
 of Athelstane 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 Disin- 
 herited 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-Boeuf and 
 Athelstane were both tired with the weight of their gigan- 
 tic masters, clad in complete armour, and with the pre- 
 ceding exertions of the day. The masterly horsemanship 
 of the Disinherited Knight, and the activity of the noble 
 animal which he mounted, enabled him for a few minutes 
 to keep at sword's point his three antagonists, turning 
 and wheeling with the agility of a hawk upon the wing, 
 keeping his enemies as far separate as he could, and rush- 
 ing now against the one, now against the other, dealing 
 sweeping blows with his sword, without waiting to receive 
 those which were aimed at him in return. 
 
 But although the lists rang with the applauses of his 
 dexterity, it was evident that he must at last be 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 over- 
 come by odds. 
 
 " Not I, by the light of Heaven ! " answered Prince 
 John j " this same springal, who conceals his name and 
 

 IVANHOE 
 
 despises our proffered hospitality, hath already gained 
 one prize, and may now afford to let others have their 
 turn." As he spoke thus, au unexpected incident changed 
 the fortune of the day. 
 
 There was among the ranks of the Disinherited Knight 
 a champion in black armour, 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 
 \f himself assailing any one. In short, he had hitherto acted 
 the part rather of a spectator than of a party in the tourna- 
 ment, a circumstance which procured him among the spec- 
 tators 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 bested ; 
 for, settiug 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-Bceuf had got nigh 
 to him with his uplifted sword ; but ere the blow could 
 descend, the Sable Knight dealt a stroke on his head, 
 which, glancing from the polished helmet, lighted with 
 violence scarcely abated on the chamfron of the steed, 
 and Front-de-Bceuf rolled on the ground, both horse and 
 ^ t y man equally stunned by the fury of the blow. Le Noir 
 Faineant then turned his horse upon Athelstane of Con- 
 ingsburgh ; and his own sword having been broken in his 
 encounter with Front-de-Bceuf, he wrenched from the 
 hand of the bulky Saxon the battle-axe which he wielded, 
 and, like one familiar with the use of the weapon, be- 
 stowed 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, re- ' 
 turning calmly to the northern extremity of the lists, 
 
132 IVANHOE. 
 
 
 leaving his leader tocope as he best could with Brian 
 de Bois-Guilbert. This was no longer matter of so much 
 difficulty as formerly. The Templar's horse had bled 
 much, and gave way under the shock of the Disinherited 
 Knight's charge. Brian de Bois-Guilbert rolled on the 
 field, encumbered with the stirrup, from which he was 
 unable to draw his foot. His antagonist sprung from 
 horseback, waved his fatal sword over the head of his 
 adversary, and commanded him to yield himself; when 
 Prince John, more moved by the Templar's dangerous 
 situation than he had been by that of his rival, saved 
 him the mortification of confessing himself vanquished 
 by casting down his warder and putting an end to the 
 conflict. 
 
 It was, indeed, only the relics and embers of the fight 
 which continued to burn; for of the few knights who 
 still continued in the lists, the greater part had, byJ^ajoiL^ 
 consent, forborne the conflict for some time, leaving it to 
 be determined by the strife of the leaders. 
 
 The squires, who had found it a matter of danger am 
 difficulty to attend their masters during the engagement, 
 now thronged into the lists to pay their dutiful attend- 
 ance to the wounded, who were removed with the utmost 
 care and attention to the neighbouring 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 only four knights, including one who 
 was smothered by the heat of his armour, had died upon 
 the field, yet upwards of thirty were desperately wounded, 
 four or five of whom never recovered. Several more were 
 disabled for life ; and those who escaped best, carried the 
 marks of the conflict to the grave with them. Hence it 
 is always mentioned in the old records as the Gentle and 
 Joyous Passage of Arms of Ashby. 
 
 It being now the duty of Prince John to name the 
 knight who had done best, he determined that the honour 
 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 vie- 
 
IVANHOE. 133 
 
 tory had been in fact won by the Disinherited Knight, 
 who, in the course of the day, had overcome six cham- 
 - pions with his own hand, and who had finally unhorsed 
 and struck down the leader of the opposite party. But 
 Prince John adhered, to his own opinion, on the ground 
 that the Disinherited Knight and his party had lost the 
 day but for the powerful assistance of the Knight of the 
 Black Armour, to whom, therefore, he persisted in award-, c 
 ing 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 indiffer- 
 ent 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 honours 
 which had been assigned to him. Prince John had now 
 no further excuse for resisting the claim of the Disinher- 
 ited Knight, whom, therefore, he named the champion of 
 the day. 
 
 Through a field slippery with blood and encumbered 
 with broken armour and the bodies of slain and wounded 
 horses, the marshals of the lists again conducted the vic- 
 tor 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 honours 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 honour which your valour 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 honour to the brave and glory 
 to the victor, while ladies waved their silken kerchiefs 
 and embroidered veils, and while all ranks joined in a 
 clamorous shout of exultation, the marshals conducted 
 the Disinherited Knight across the lists to the foot of 
 
134 IVANHOE. 
 
 that throne of honour which was occupied by the Lady 
 Rowena. 
 
 On the lower step of this throne the champion was 
 made to kneel down. Indeed, his whole action since the 
 fight had ended seemed rather to have been upon the 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. Rowena, descending 
 from her station with a graceful and dignified step, was 
 about to place the chaplet which she held in her hand 
 upon the helmet of the champion, when the marshals ex- 
 claimed with one voice, " It must not be thus — his head 
 must be bare." The Knight muttered faintly a few words, 
 which were 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, amidst a profusion 
 of short fair hair. His countenance was as pale as death, v 
 and marked in one or two places with streaks of blood. 
 
 Rowena had no sooner beheld him than she uttered a 
 faint shriek ; but at once summoning up the energy of 
 her disposition, and compelling herself, as it were, to 
 proceed, while her frame yet trembled with the violence 
 of sudden emotion, she placed upon the drooping head of 
 the victor the splendid chaplet which was the destined 
 reward of the day, and pronounced in a clear and distinct 
 tone these words : " I bestow on thee this chaplet, Sir 
 Knight, as the meed of valour assigned to this day's vic- 
 tor." Here she paused a moment, and then firmly added, 
 " And upon brows more worthy could a wreath of chivalry 
 • v never be placed ! " 
 
 The knight stooped his head and kissed the hand of the 
 lovely Sovereign by whom his valour had been rewarded ; 
 and then, sinking yet farther forward, lay prostrate at 
 her feet. 
 
IVANHOE. 135 
 
 i 
 
 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 armour, and found that 
 the head of a lance had penetrated his breastplate and 
 inflicted a wound in his side. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 * Heroes, approach ! ' Atrides thus aloud ; 
 
 ' Stand forth distinguish' d from the circling crowd, 
 
 Ye who hy skill and manly force may claim 
 
 Your rivals to surpass and merit fame. 
 
 This cow, worth twenty oxen, is decreed 
 
 For him who farthest sends the winged reed.' 
 
 Iliad. 
 
 The name of Ivanhoe was no sooner pronounced than 
 it flew from mouth to mouth with all the celerity with 
 which eagerness could convey and curiosity receive it. 
 It was not long ere it reached the circle of the Prince, 
 whose brow darkened as he heard the news. Looking 
 around him, however, with an air of scorn, " My lords," 
 said he, " and especially you, Sir Prior, what think ye of 
 the doctrine the learned tell us concerning innate attrac- 7I _: 
 tions and antipathies ? Methinks that I felt the presence 
 " of my brother's minion, even when I least guessed whom 
 yonder suit of armour inclosed." 
 
 " Frim±=de-Boeuf must prepare to restore his fief of 
 Iva nhoe," said De Bracy, who, having discharged his 
 part honourably 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's generosity 
 has since given toFront-de-Boeuf." 
 
 " Front-de-Boeuf," replied John, " is a man more will- 
 
 V. 
 
136 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 
 perform the usual military service, in the room of those 
 who have wandered to foreign countries, and can neither 
 reader homage nor service when called upon." 
 
 The audience were too much interested in the question 
 
 not to pronounce the Prince's assumed right altogether 
 
 indubitable. " A generous Prince ! a most noble Lord, 
 
 ''who thus takes upon himself the task of rewarding his 
 
 faithful followers ! " 
 
 Such were the words which burst from the train, ex- 
 pectants all of them of similar grants at the expense 
 of King Richard's followers and favourites, 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 for- 
 eign country. She was communis Muter — the mother of 
 alL Christians. But he saw not," he declared, "how the 
 Knight of Ivanhoe could plead any advantage from this, 
 since he " (the Prior) " was assured that the crusaders 
 under Richard had never proceeded much farther than 
 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 towards the 
 place where Ivanhoe had fallen to the ground, now re- 
 turned. " The gallant," said he, " is likely to give your 
 Highness little disturbance, and to leave Front-de-Boeuf 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. 
 Waldemar Fitzurse hastened to reply that Ivanhoe was 
 * already removed from the lists, and in the custody of his 
 friends. 
 
IVANHOE. 137 
 
 " I was somewhat afflicted," he said, " to see the grief 
 of the Queen of Love and Beauty, whose sovereignty of 
 a day this event has changed into mourning. I am not a 
 man to be moved by a woman's lament for her lover, but 
 this same Lady Rowena suppressed her sorrow with such 
 dignity of manner that it could only be discovered by her 
 folded hands and her tearless eye, which trembled as it 
 remained fixed on the lifeless form before her." 
 
 "Who is this Lady Rowena," said Prince John, "of 
 whom we have heard so much ? " 
 
 "A Saxon heiress of large possessions," replied the 
 Prior Aymer ; " a rose of lovelin ess, and a jewel of we alth ; 
 the fairest amon^^ rTnousand7abunHIe"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 wed- 
 ding a Saxon, after the fashion of the followers of the 
 Conqueror ? " 
 
 " If the lands are to my liking, my lord," answered De 
 Bracy, " it will be hard to displease me with a bride ; and 
 deeply will I hold myself bound to your Highness for a 
 good deed, which will fulfil all promises made in favour 
 of your servant and vassal." 
 
 "We will not forget it," said Prince John ; "and that 
 we may instantly go to work, command our seneschal 
 * presently to order the attendance of the Lady Rowena 
 and her company — that is, the rudejchurl 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, cour- 
 tesy 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. 
 
138 IVANHOE. 
 
 " 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 
 impression of three fleurs-de-lis,. John then opened the 
 billet with apparent agitation, which visibly and greatly 
 increased when he had perused the contents, which were 
 expressed in these words : 
 
 " TVtrfiJi fyrl to yonrspj f, fnr t.hft Dftvil is nn rVha.inp.ri j_ ^ 
 
 The Prince turned as pale as death, looked first on the 
 earth, and then up to heaven, like a man who has received 
 news that sentence of execution has been passed upon 
 him. Recovering from the first effects of his surprise, 
 he took Waldemar 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 ' 
 Highness must break short this present mummery." 
 
 " The yeomen and commons," said De Bracy, " must 
 not be dismissed discontented, for lack of their share in 
 the sports." 
 
 " The day," said 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 fulfil- 
 ment 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 inso 
 
 h h 
 
IVANHOE. 139 
 
 lent peasant who yesterday insulted our person. Our 
 banquet also shall go forward to-night as we proposed. 
 Were this my last hour of power, it should be an hour 
 sacred to revenge and to pleasure — let new cares come 
 with to-morrow's new day." 
 
 The sound of 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 festival ; 
 nevertheless, that, unwilling so many good yeomen should 
 depart without a trial of skill, he was pleased to appoint 
 them, before leaving the ground, presently to execute the 
 competition of archery intended for the morrow. To the 
 best archer a prize was to be awarded, being a bugle- 
 horn, mounted with silver, and a silken baldric richly 
 ornamented with a medallion of St. Hubert, the patron 
 of silvan - sport. 
 
 More than thirty yeomen at first presented themselves 
 as competitors, several of whom were rangers and under- 
 keepers in the royal forests of Needwood and Charn- 
 wood. When, however, the archers understood with 
 whom they were to be matched, upwards of twenty with- 
 drew themselves from the contest, unwilling to encounter 
 the dishonour of almost certain defeat. For in those 
 days the skill of each celebrated marksman was as well 
 known for many miles round him as the qualities of a 
 horse trained at Newmarket are familiar to those who 
 frequent that well-known meeting. jj^J 
 
 The diminished list of competitors for silvan fame still 
 amounted to eight. Prince John steppecTirom his royal , 
 seat to view more nearly the persons of these chosen 
 yeomen, several of whom wore the royal livery. Having 
 satisfied his curiosity by this investigation, he looked for 
 the object of his resentment, whom he observed stand- 
 ing on the same spot, and with the same composed coun- 
 tenance which he had exhibited upon the preceding 
 day. 
 
 . " Fellow," said Prince John, " I guessed by thy inso- 
 lent babble thou wert no true lover of the long-bow, and 
 
 
 4. 
 
 W 
 

 140 IVANHOE. 
 
 I see thou darest not adventure thy skill among such 
 merry men as stand yonder." 
 
 " Under favour, sir," replied the yeoman, " I have 
 another reason for refraining to shoot, beside the fearing 
 discomfiture and disgrace." 
 
 " And what is thy other reason ? " said Prince John, 
 who, for some cause which perhaps he could not himself 
 have explained, felt a painful curiosity respecting this 
 individual. 
 
 I 1 Because,") replied the woodsman, " 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 un-_ 
 wittingly fallen under your displeasure.'/ 
 
 Prince John coloured as he put the question, "What 
 is thy name, yeoman ?)' 
 
 " Locksley," answered the yeoman. 
 
 " Then, Locksley," said Prince John, " thou shalt 
 shoot in thy turn, when these yeomen have displayed 
 their skill. If thou carriest the prize, I will add to it 
 twenty nobles ; but if thou losest it, thou shalt be stript 
 of thy Lincoln green and scourged out of the lists with 
 bowstrings, for a wordy and insolent jM&ggart : J[ r i^ 
 
 " And how if I refuse to shoot on such a wager ? " 
 said the yeoman. " Your Grace's power, supported, as it 
 is, by so many men-at-arms, may indeed easily strip and 
 scourge me, but cannot -compel me to bend or to draw 
 my bow." 
 
 "If thou refusest my fair proffer," said the Prince, 
 " the Provost of the lists shall cut thy bowstring, break 
 thy bow and arrows, and expel thee from the presence 
 as a faint-hearted craven." 
 
 " This is no fair chance you put on me, proud Prince," 
 said the yeoman, " to compel me to peril myself against 
 the best archers of Leicester and Staffordshire, under 
 the penalty of infamy if they should overshoot me. 
 Nevertheless, I will obey your pleasure." 
 . /'Look to him close, men-at-arms," said Prince John, 
 "his heart is sinking; I am jealous lest he attempt 
 to escaoe the trial — And do you, good fellows, shoot 
 
IVANHOE. „ f^ 141 
 
 boldly round ; a buck and a butt of wine are ready for 
 your refreshment in yonder tent, when the prize is 
 won." 
 
 A target was placed at the upper end of the southern 
 avenue which led to the lists. The contending archers 
 took their station in turn, at the bottom of the southern 
 access ; the distance between that station and the mark 
 allowing full distance for what was called a shot at 
 rovers. The archers having previously determined by 
 lot their order of precedence, were to shoot each three 
 ^shafts in succession. The sports were regulated by an 
 officer of inferior rank, termed the Provost of the games ; 
 for the high rank of the marshals of the lists would have 
 been held degraded had they condescended to superin- 
 tend the sports of the yeomanry. 
 
 One by one the archers, stepping forward, delivered 
 their shafts yeomanlike and bravely. Of twenty-four 
 arrows shot in succession, ten were fixed in the target, 
 and the others ranged so near it that, considering the 
 distance of the mark, it was accounted good archery. 
 Of the ten shafts which hit the target, two within the 
 inner ring were shot by Hubert, a forester in the service 
 of Malvoisin, who was accordingly pronounced victorious. 
 
 "Now, Locksley," said Prince John to the bold yeo- 
 man, 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." 
 
 v That is but fair," answered Prince John, " and it 
 shall not be refused thee. — If thou dost beat this brag- 
 gart, Hubert, I will fill the bugle with silver pennies for 
 thee." 
 
 r A man can but do his best," answered Hubert ; " but 
 my grandsire drew a good long-bow at Hastings, and I 
 trust not to dishonour his memory." 
 
 The former target was now removed, and a fresh one 
 of the same size placed in its room. Hubert, who, as 
 
142 IVANHOE. 
 
 victor in the first trial of skill, had the right to shoot 
 first, took his aim with great deliberation, long measur- 
 ing 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 centre or grasp- 
 ing-place was nigh level with his face, he drew his bow- 
 string to his ear. The arrow whistled through the air, 
 and lighted within the inner ring of the target, but not 
 exactly in the centre. 
 
 " 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 stept to the appointed 
 station, and shot his arrow as carelessly in appearance 
 as if he had not even looked at the mark. He was 
 speaking almost at the instant that the shaft left the 
 bowstring, yet it alighted in the target two inches nearer 
 to the white spot which marked the centre than that of 
 Hubert. 
 
 " By the light of Heaven ! " said Prince John to 
 Hubert, "an thou suffer that runagate knave to over- 
 come thee, thou art 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 grandsire drew a 
 good bow " 
 
 \ The foul fiend on thy grandsire and all his genera- 
 tion ! " interrupted John, r Shoot, knave, and shoot thy 
 best, or it shall be the worse for thee ! " 
 
 Thus exhorted, Hubert resumed his place, and not 
 neglecting the caution which he had received from his 
 adversary, he made the necessary allowance for a very 
 light air of wind which had just arisen, and shot so suc- 
 cessfully that his arrow alighted in the very centre of 
 the target. 
 
 '\ A Hubert ! a Hubert ! " shouted the populace, more 
 interested in a known person than in a stranger. " In 
 the clout ! — in the clout ! — a Hubert forever ! " 
 
IVANHOE. 143 
 
 
 " Thou canst not mend that shot, Locksley," said the 
 Prince, with an insulting smile. 
 
 " I will notch his shaft for him, however," replied 
 Locksley. 
 
 And letting fly his arrow with a little more precaution 
 than before, it lighted right upon that of his competitor, 
 which it split to shivers. The people who stood around 
 were so astonished at his wonderful dexterity that they 
 could not even give vent to their surprise in their usual 
 clamour, r 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 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 fivescore yards, I call him an archer 
 fit to bear both bow and quiver before a king, an it were 
 the stout Kin 2f Richard himself." 
 
144 IVANHOE. 
 
 " 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 young 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 twinkling white streak which I can 
 hardly see." 
 
 " Cowardly dog ! " said Prince John. " Sirrah Locks- 
 ley, 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 Locks- 
 ley ; " 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, 
 acclamations followed ; and even Prince John, in admira- 
 tion 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 vowed that, if ever I take service, it should be with 
 your royal brother King Richard. These twenty nobles 
 I leave to Hubert, who has this day drawn as brave a 
 bow as his grandsire did at Hastings. Had his modesty 
 not refused the trial, he would have hit the wand as well 
 as I." 
 

 IVANHOE. 145 
 
 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 mayst show him this, ring 
 for a token. The rest of the money must be paiid 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 re- 
 turned to Ashby, the whole crowd breaking up and dis- 
 persing upon his retreat. 
 
 lis 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 
 V* 
 
 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 
 
 Prince John held his high festival in the Castle of 
 Ashby. This was not the same building of which the 
 stately ruins still interest the traveller, and which was 
 erected at a later period by the Lord Hastings, High 
 Chamberlain of England, one of the first victims of the 
 tyranny of Richard the Third, and yet better known as 
 one of Shakespeare's characters than by his historical 
 fame. The castle and town of Ashby, at this time, be- 
 
146 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 gcruple ; and 
 , peeking at present to dazzle men's eyes by his hospitality 
 and magnificence, had given orders for great preparations, 
 in order to render the banquet as splendid as possible. 
 
 The purveyors of the Prince, who exercised on this 
 and other occasions the full authority of royalty, had 
 swept the country of all that could be collected which 
 was esteemed fit for their master's table. Guests also 
 were invited in great numbers ; and in the necessity 
 in which he then found himself of courting popularity, 
 Prince John had extended his invitation to a few distin- 
 guished Saxon and Danish families, as well as to the 
 Norman nobility and gentry of the neighbourhood. How- 
 ever despised and degraded on ordinary occasions, the 
 great numbers of the Anglo-Saxons must necessarily 
 render them formidable* in the civil commotions which; 
 seemed approaching, and it was an obvious point of policy 
 to secure popularity with their leaders. 
 
 It was accordingly the Prince's intention, which he for 
 some time maintained, to treat these 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 blend to his interest, it was the mis- 
 fortune of this Prince that his levity and petulance werel" 
 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 Sec- 
 ond, with the purpose of buying golden opinions of the 
 inhabitants of that new and important acquisition to the 
 English crown. Upon this occasion the Irish chieftains 
 contended which should first offer to the young Prince 
 their loyal homage and the kiss of peace. But, instead 
 of receiving their salutations with courtesy, John and his 
 petulant attendants could not resist the temptation of 
 pulling the long beards of the Irish chieftains — a con- 
 duct which, as might have been expected, was highly 
 
IVANHOE. 147 
 
 . 
 resented by these insulted dignitaries, and produced fatal 
 consequences to the English domination in Ireland. It 
 is necessary to keep these inconsistencies of John's char- " 
 acter in view, that the reader may understand his con- 
 duct 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 ex- 
 pressed his disappointment, without resentment, when 
 the indisposition of Rowena was alleged by the former 
 as a reason for her not attending upon his gracious sum- 
 mons. 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 Fitzurse for refraining 
 from laughter at a sight which the fashion of the day 
 rendered ridiculous. Yet, in the eye of sober judgment, 
 the short close tunic and long mantle of the Saxons was 
 a more graceful, as well as a more convenient, dress than 
 the garb of the Normans, whose under-garment was a 
 long doublet, so loose as to resemble a shirt or a wag- 
 goner'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 jewellery work as the in-^ 
 genuity 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 in- 
 conveniences 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 Jegs 
 from the damp or the 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 
 
 u 
 

 148 IVANHOE. 
 
 among Prince John's courtiers ; and the long mantle, 
 which formed the upper garment of the Saxons, was held 
 in proportional derision. / jTL. 
 
 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 pro- 
 visions 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 deli- 
 cacies brought from foreign parts, and a quantity of rich 
 pastry, as well as of the simnel bread and wastel 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 indulg- 
 ing themselves in the pleasures of the table, they aimed 
 at delicacy, but avoided excess, and were apt to attribute 
 gluttony and drunkenness to the vanquished Saxons, as 
 vices peculiar to their inferior station. Prince John, 
 indeed, and those who courted his pleasure by imitating 
 his foibles, were apt to indulge to excess in the pleasures 
 of the trencher and the goblet ; and, indeed, it is well 
 known that his death was occasioned by a surfeit upon 
 peaches and new ale. His conduct, however, was an ex- 
 ception to the general manners of his countrymen. 
 
 With sly gravity, interrupted only by private signs to 
 each other, the Norman knights and nobles beheld the 
 ruder demeanour of 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 sar- 
 castic 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 ap- 
 pear ignorant of the most minute point of fashionable 
 etiquette. Thus Cedric, who dried his hands with a 
 
IVANHOE. 149 
 
 towel, instead of suffering the moisture to exhale by wav- 
 ing them gracefully in the air, incurred more ridicule 
 than his companion Athelstane, when he swallowed to 
 his own single share the whole of a large pasty composed 
 of the most exquisite foreign delicacies, and termed at 
 that time a " karuin-pie." When, however, it was dis- 
 covered, by a serious cross-examination, that the Thane 
 of Coningsburgh — or Franklin, 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 night- 
 ingales, his ignorance brought him in for an ample share 
 of the ridicule which would have been more justly be- 
 stowed on his jgluttony. 
 
 The long feast had at length its end ; and, while the gob- 
 let circulated freely, men talked of the feats of the precede 
 ing tournament — of the unknown victor in the archery 
 games, of the Black Knight, whose self-denial had in- 
 duced him to withdraw from the honours he had won, 
 and of the gallant Ivanhoe, who had so dearly bought the 
 lonours of the day. "The topics were treated with mili- 
 ary frankness, and the jest and laugh went round the 
 hall. The brow of Prince John alone was overclouded 
 during these discussions ; some overpowering care seemed 
 agitating his mind, and it was only when he received occa- 
 sional hints from his attendants that he seemed to take 
 interest in what was passing around him. On such occa- 
 sions he would start up, quaff a cup of wine as if to 
 raise his spirits, and then mingle in the conversation by 
 some observation made abruptly or .at random/*^ 
 
 " We drink this beaker," said he, " to the health of 
 Wilfred of Ivanhoe, champion of this Passage of Arms, 
 and grieve that his wound renders him absent from our 
 board. — Let all fill to the pledge, and especially Cedric 
 of Rotherwood, the worthy father of a son so promising." 
 
 " No, my lord," replied Cedric, standing up, and 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." 
 
150 IVANHOE. 
 
 " '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 favourite 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 a 
 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 per- 
 son whose dignity will not be diminished by holding land 
 of the British crown. — Sir Reginald Front-de-Bceuf," he 
 said, turning towards that baron, u I trust you will so 
 keep the goodly barony of Ivanhoe that Sir Wilfred shall 
 not incur his father's farther displeasure by again enter- 
 ing upon that fief." 
 
 " By St. Anthony ! " answered the black-browed giant, 
 "I will consent that your Highness shall hold me a 
 Saxon, if either Cedric or Wilfred, or the best that ever 
 bore English blood, shall wrench from me the gift with 
 which your Highness has graced me." 
 
 " Whoever shall call thee Saxon, Sir Baron," replied 
 Cedric, offended at a mode of expression by which the 
 
IVANHOE. 151 
 
 Normans frequently expressed their habitual contempt of 
 the English, "will do thee an honour as great as it is 
 undeserved."' 
 
 Front-de-Bceuf would have replied, but Prince John's 
 netulance and levity got the start. 
 
 "Assuredly," said he, "my lords, the noble Cedric 
 speaks truth ; and his race may claim precedence over 
 us as much in the length of their pedigrees as in the 
 longitude of their cloaks." 
 
 "They go before us indeed in the field — as deer before 
 dogs," said Malvoisin. 
 
 " And with good right may they go before us — forget 
 not," said the Prior Aymer, "the superior decency and 
 decorum of their manners." 
 
 " Their singular abstemiousness and temperance," said 
 De Bracy, forgetting the plan which promised him a 
 Saxon bride. 
 
 " Together with the courage and conduct," said Brian 
 de Bois-Guilbert, "by which they distinguished them- 
 selves 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 be- 
 came 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 tor- 
 mentors, is at a loss to choose from among them the im- 
 mediate object of his revenge. At length he spoke, in a 
 voice half-choked with passion ; and, addressing himself 
 to Prince John as the head and front of the offence which 
 he had received, "Whatever," he said, "have been the 
 follies and vices of our race, a Saxon would have been 
 held nidering (the most emphatic term for abject worth- 
 lessness) who should in his own hall, and while his own 
 wine-cup passed, have treated, or suffered to be treated, 
 an unoffending guest as your Highness has this day be- 
 held 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) 
 
152 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 re- 
 turn to Normandy in time." 
 
 " For fear of the Saxons ? " said De Bracy, laughing. 
 " We should need no weapon but our hunting spears to 
 bring these boars to bay." 
 
 " A truce with your raillery, Sir Knights," said 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 cour- 
 tesy of demeanour ; " I trust it will not be thought that 
 I could mean or permit any to be offered in my presence. 
 Here ! I fill my cup to Cedric himself, since he refuses 
 to pledge his son's health." 
 
 The cup went round amid the well-dissembled applause 
 of the courtiers, which, however, failed to make the 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 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 honour by draining a huge goblet in answer to it. 
 
 " And now, sirs," said Prince John, who began to be 
 warmed with the wine which he had drank, " having done 
 justice to our Saxon guests, we will pray of them some 
 requital to our courtesy. Worthy thane," he continued, 
 addressing Cedric, "may we pray you to name to us some 
 Xorman 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 ? " 
 
IVANHOE. 153 
 
 Fitzurse arose while Prince John spoke, and, gliding 
 behind the seat of the Saxon, whispered to him not to 
 omit the opportunity of putting an end to unkindness 
 betwixt the two races by naming Prince John. The 
 Saxon replied not to this politic insinuation, but, rising 
 up, and filling his cup tc the brim, he addressed Prince 
 John in these words : " Your Highness has required that 
 I should name a Norman deserving to be remembered at 
 our banquet. This, perchance, is a hard task, since it 
 calls on the slave to sing the praises of the master — 
 upon the vanquished, while pressed by all the evils of 
 conquest, to sing the praises of the conqueror. Yet I will 
 name a Norman — the first in arms and in place — the 
 best and the noblest of his race. And the lips that shall 
 refuse to pledge me to his well-earned fame, I term false 
 and dishonoured, and will so maintain them with my 
 life. — I quaff this goblet to the health of Richard the 
 Lion-hearted ! " 
 
 Prince John, who had expected that his own name 
 would have closed the Saxon's speech, started when that 
 of his injured brother was so unexpectedly introduced. 
 He raised mechanically the wine-cup to his lips, then 
 instantly set it down, to view the demeanour of the com- 
 pany 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 re- 
 stored to us ! " And some few, among whom were Pront- 
 de-Bceuf and the Templar, in sullen disdain suffered their 
 goblets to stand untasted before them. But no man ven- 
 tured 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 
 
154 IVANHOE. 
 
 must henceforth seek us in the homes of our fathers, 
 since we have seen enough of royal banquets and enough 
 of Norman courtesy." 
 
 So saying, he arose and left the banqueting-room, fol- 
 lowed by Athelstane, and by several other guests, who, 
 partaking of the Saxon lineage, held themselves insulted 
 by the sarcasms of Prince John and his courtiers. 
 
 " By the bones of St. Thomas," said Prince John, as 
 they retreated, " the Saxon churls have borne off the 
 best of the day, and have retreated with triumph ! " 
 
 "Condamatium est, poculatum est," said Prior Aymer ; 
 " we have drunk and we have shouted — it were time we 
 left our wine flagons." 
 
 " The monk hath some fair penitent to shrive to-night, 
 that he is in such a hurry to depart," said De Bracy. 
 
 " Not so, Sir Knight," replied the Abbot ; " but I must 
 move several miles forward this evening upon my home- 
 ward journey." 
 
 " They are breaking up," said the Prince in a whisper 
 to Fitzurse ; " their fears anticipate the event, and this 
 coward Prior is the first to shrink from me." 
 
 " Fear not, my lord," said Waldemar ; " I will show 
 him such reasons as shall induce him to join us when we 
 hold our meeting at York. — Sir Prior," he said, "I 
 must speak with you in private before you mount your 
 palfrey." 
 
 The other guests were now fast dispersing with the 
 exception of those immediately attached to Prince John's 
 faction and his retinue. 
 
 "This, then, is the result of your advice," said the 
 Prince, turning an angry countenance upon 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 counsellor; "I might 
 retort your accusation, and blame the inconsiderate 
 levity which foiled my design, and misled your own 
 better judgment. But this is no time for recrimination. 
 De Bracy and I will instantly go among these shuffling 
 
IVANHOE. 155 
 
 cowards and convince them they have gone too far to 
 recede." 
 
 " It will be in vain," said Prince John, pacing the 
 apartment with disordered steps, and expressing himself 
 with an agitation to which the wine he had drank partly 
 contributed — " it will be in vain ; they have seen the 
 handwriting on the wall — they have marked the paw 
 of the lion in the sand — they have heard his approach- 
 ing roar shake the wood; nothing will reanimate their 
 courage." 
 
 "Would to God," said Fitzurse to De Bracy, "that 
 aught could reanimate his own ! His brother's very 
 name is an ague to him. Unhappy are the counsellors 
 of a prince who wants fortitude and perseverance alike 
 in good and in evil ! " 
 
 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 a way 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 
 jU-_ and combine the scattered members of Prince John's 
 cabal. Few of these were attached to him from inclina- 
 tion, and none from personal regard. It was therefore 
 necessary that Fitzurse should open to them new pros- 
 pects of advantage, and remind them of those which they 
 at present enjoyed. To the young and wild nobles he 
 held out the prospect of unpunished license and uncon- 
 trolled revelry, to the ambitious that of power, and to 
 . the covetous that of increased wealth and extended do- 
 mains. The leaders of the mercenaries received a dona- 
 tion in gold — an argument the most persuasive to their 
 minds, and without which all others would have proved 
 
156 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 accom- 
 plices were most haunted, he boldly treated that event, 
 should it really take place, as one which ought not to 
 alter their political calculations. 
 
 " If Eichard 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 
 returns to call to a fearful reckoning those who, during 
 his absence, have done aught that can be construed of- 
 fence or encroachment upon either the laws of the land 
 or the privileges 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 dur- 
 ing the wars in the Holy Land. He returns, in fine, to 
 punish as a rebel every adherent of his brother Prince 
 John. Are ye afraid of his power? " continued the art- 
 ful 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, unfol- 
 lowed, unfriended. The bones of his gallant army have 
 whitened the sands of Palestine. The few of his follow- 
 ers who have returned have straggled hither like this 
 Wilfred of Ivanhoe, beggared and broken men. — And 
 what talk ye of Richard's right of birth ? " he proceeded, 
 in answer to those who objected scruples on that head. 
 " Is Richard's title of primogeniture more decidedly cer- 
 tain than that of Duke Robert of Normandy, the Con- 
 queror'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 
 
IVANHOE. 157 
 
 to the church, and, to crown the whole, a crusader and a 
 conqueror of the Holy Sepulchre : and yet he died a blind 
 and miserable prisoner 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, correcting himself, "him whose election will best 
 promote the interests of the nobility. In personal quali- 
 fications," 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 honours, it could not 
 be doubted which was the king whom in wisdom the 
 nobility were called on to support." 
 
 These, and many more arguments, some adapted to the 
 peculiar circumstances of those whom he addressed, had 
 the expected weight with the nobles of Prince John's 
 faction. Most of them consented to attend the proposed 
 meeting at York, for the purpose of making general ar- 
 rangements 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 
 colour, a leathern cap or headpiece, a short sword, a horn 
 slung over his shoulder, a long-bow in his hand, and a 
 bundle of arrows stuck in his belt. Had 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 attention, and recognised 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 Christinas gambols 
 and quaint maskings, when the fate of our master, Prince 
 John, is on the very verge of decision ? Why hast thor 
 
158 IVANHOE. 
 
 not been, like me, among these heartless cravens whom 
 the very name of King Richard terrifies, as it is said to 
 do the children of the Saracens ? " 
 
 " I have been attending to mine own business," answered 
 De Bracy, calmly, " as you, Fitzurse, have been minding 
 yours." 
 
 " In minding mine own business ! " echoed Waldemar ; 
 " I have been engaged in that of Prince John, our joint 
 patron." 
 
 "As if thou hadst any other reason for that, Walde- 
 mar," said De Bracy, " than the promotion of thine own 
 individual 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 tyrannical to be an easy monarch, too insolent and 
 presumptuous to be a popular monarch, and too fickle, 
 and timid to be long a monarch of any kind. But he is 
 
 a monarch by whom 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." 
 
 "A hopeful auxiliary," said Fitzurse, impatiently, 
 " playing the fool in the very moment of utter necessity. 
 
 — What on earth dost thou purpose by this absurd dis- 
 guise 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 compre- 
 hend thee not." 
 
 " Wert thou not in presence yestereven," 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 Israel- 
 itish nation ; and how they cut to pieces well-nigh all the 
 chivalry of that tribe ; and how they swore by our blessed 
 Lady that they would not permit those who remained to 
 marry in their lineage ; and how they became grieved for 
 their vow, and sent to consult his holiness the Pope how 
 they might be absolved from it ; and how, by the advice 
 
 'i 
 
IVANHOE. 159 
 
 of the Holy Father, the youth of the tribe of Benjamin 
 carried off from a superb tournament all the ladies 
 who were there present, and thus won them wives with- 
 out 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 honour are but the lot of 
 few of Saxon descent." 
 
 " And should belong to none," said De Bracy ; " the 
 work of the Conquest should be completed." 
 
 " This is no time for it at least," said Fitzurse ; " the 
 approaching crisis renders the favour of the multitude 
 indispensable, and Prince John cannot refuse justice to 
 any one who injures their favourites." 
 
 " Let him grant it if he dare," said De Bracy ; " he will 
 soon see the difference betwixt the support of such a lusty 
 lot of spears as mine and that of a heartless mob of Saxon 
 churls. Yet I mean no immediate discovery of myself. 
 Seem I not in this garb as bold a forester as ever blew 
 horn ? The blame of the violence shall rest with the 
 outlaws of the Yorkshire forests. I have sure spies on 
 the Saxons' motions. To-night they sleep in the convent 
 of St. Wittol, or Withold, or whatever they call that churl 
 of a Saxon saint, at Burton-on-Trent. Next day's march 
 brings them within our reach, and, 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 
 
160 IVANHOE. 
 
 Normandy, 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 marvellously sage plan," said Fitzurse, "and, as I 
 think, not entirely of thine own device. — Come, be frank, 
 De Bracy, who aided thee in the invention ? and who is 
 to assist in the execution ? for, as I think, thine own 
 band lies as far off as York." 
 
 " Marry, if thou must needs know," said De Bracy, " it 
 was 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 afterwards from the 
 clutches of Bois-Guilbert seems considerably more doubt- 
 ful. He is a falcon well accustomed to pounce on a par- 
 tridge 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 dishonourable against the intended bride 
 of De Bracy — By heaven ! were he a whole Chapter of 
 his Order in his single person, he dared not do me such 
 an injury ! " 
 
 " Then, since 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 
 
IVANHOE. 161 
 
 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 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 advan- 
 tage ? — For that of a Prince as unwise as he is profligate, 
 and as likely to be an ungrateful master as he has already 
 proved a rebellious son and an unnatural brother. But he 
 — he, too, is but one of the tools with which I labour ; 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 bon- 
 . net doffed, the future Chancellor, for to such high prefer- 
 ment did the wily Norman a§pire, hastened to receive the 
 orders of the future sovereign. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Far in a wild, unknown to public view, 
 From youth to age a reverend hermit grew ; 
 The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, 
 His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well ; 
 Remote from man, with God he pass'd his days, 
 Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise. 
 
 Parnell. 
 
 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 ; ancTwhen he was called upon to receive 
 the reward of his valour he was nowhere to be found. 
 In the meantime, while summoned by heralds and by 
 trumpets, the knight was holding his course northward, 
 
 M 
 
? 
 
 162 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 necessitjr of much repose. Yet his purpose 
 was baffled by the devious paths through which he rode, 
 so that when evening closed upon him he only found 
 himself on the frontiers of the West Riding of Yorkshire. 
 By this time both horse and man required refreshment, 
 and it became necessary, moreover, to look out for some 
 place in which they might spend the night, which was 
 now fast approaching. 
 
 The place where the traveller found himself seemed 
 unpropitious for obtaining either shelter or refreshment, 
 and he was likely to be reduced to the usual expedient 
 of knights errant, who, on such occasions, turned their 
 horses to graze, and laid themselves down to meditate on 
 their lady-mistress, with an oak tree for a canopy. But 
 the Black Knight either had no mistress to meditate 
 upon, or, being as indifferent in love as he seemed to be 
 in war, was not sufficiently occupied by passionate reflec- 
 tions upon her beauty and cruelty to be able to parry 
 the effects of fatigue and hunger, and suffer love to act 
 as a substitute for the solid comforts of a bed and supper. 
 He felt dissatisfied, therefore, when, looking around, he 
 found himself deeply involved in woods, through which 
 indeed there were many open glades and some paths, but 
 such as seemed only formed by the numerous herds of 
 cattle which grazed in the forest, or by the animals of 
 chase and the hunters who made prey of them. 
 
 The sun, by which the knight had chiefly directed his 
 course, had now sunk behind the Derbyshire hills on his 
 left, and every effort which he might make to pursue 
 his journey was as likely to lead him out of his road as 
 to advance him on his route. After having in vain en- 
 
IVANHOE. 163 
 
 deavoured to select the most beaten path, in hopes 
 it might lead to the cottage of some herdsman or the 
 silvan lodge of a forester, and having repeatedly found 
 himself totally unable to determine on a choice, the knight / 
 resolved to trust to the sagacity of his horse, experience 
 having on former occasions made him acquainted with 
 the wonderful talent possessed by these animals for 
 extricating themselves and their riders on such emer- 
 gencies. &jJL,Jtl -* >J*«u£ij 
 
 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. 
 
 He was justified by the event, for the footpath soon 
 after appeared a little wider and more worn, and the 
 tinkle of a small bell gave the knight to understand that 
 he was in the vicinity of some chapel or hermitage. 
 
 Accordingly, he soon reached an open plat of turf, on 
 the opposite side of which a rock, rising abruptly from a 
 gently sloping plain, offered its grey and weatherbeaten 
 front to the traveller. 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 expres- 
 sion 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 neighbouring 
 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 
 
164 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 labour had formed into a rustic basin. Es- 
 caping 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 neighbouring wood. 
 
 Beside this fountain were the ruins of a very small 
 chapel, of which the roof had partly fallen in. The 
 building, when entire, had never been above sixteen feet 
 long by twelve feet in breadth, and the roof, low in pro- 
 portion, 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~falTen 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 zig-zag 
 moulding, resembling sharks' 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 weatherbeaten bell, the feeble sounds 
 of which had been some time before heard by the Black 
 Knight. 
 
 The whole peaceful and quiet scene lay glimmering in 
 twilight before the eyes of the traveller, 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 towards benighted or bewildered passengers. 
 
 Accordingly, the knight took no time to consider 
 minutely the particulars which we have detailed, but 
 thanking St. Julian, the patron of travellers, who had 
 sent him good harbourage, he leaped from his horse 
 and assailed the door of the hermitage with the butt of 
 his lance, in order to arouse attention and gain admittance. 
 
 It was some time before he obtained any answer, and 
 the reply, when made, was unpropitious. 
 
 " Pass on, whosoever thou art, ; was the answer given 
 by a deer) hoarse voice from within the hi t, f anr* disturb 
 
IVANHOE. 165 
 
 not the servant of God and St. Dunstan in his evening 
 devotions." 
 
 " Worthy father," answered the knight, " here is a poor 
 wanderer bewildered in these woods, who gives thee the 
 opportunity of exercising thy charity and hospitality." 
 
 " Good brother," replied the inhabitant of the hermi- 
 tage, " it has pleased Our Lady and St. Dunstan to destine 
 me for" the object of those virtues, instead of the exercise 
 thereof. I have no provisions here which even a dog 
 would share with me, and a horse of any tenderness of 
 nurture would despise my couch ; pass therefore on thy 
 way, and God speed thee." 
 
 (" But how/' replied the knight, fis it possible for me 
 to Tind my way through such a wood as this, when dark- 
 ness is coming on ? I pray you, reverend father, as you 
 are a Christian* to undo your door, and at least point out 
 to me my road." 
 
 "And I pray you, good Christian brother/' replied the 
 
 anchorite, "to disturb me no more. You have already 
 
 interrupted xme pater, two aves, and a credo, which I, 
 
 ' miserable sinner "that I am. should, according to my vow, 
 
 have said before moonrise^ 
 
 f The road — the road Vf vociferated the knight ; " give 
 me directions for the road, if I am to expect no "more 
 from thee.7 *>- 
 
 "The road," replied the hermit, "is easy to hit. The 
 path from the wood leads to a morass, and from thence 
 to a _f ord, which, as the rains have abated, may now be 
 passable. When thou hast crossed the ford, thou wilt 
 take care of thy footing up the left bank, as it is some- 
 what 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 
 
 ;un 
 
 wil£ then keep straight forward 
 
 '{ A broken path — a precipi ce — a ford — and a mo- v^# 
 rass ! V said the knight, interrupting him. u 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 
 
166 IVANHOE. a^^ 
 
 . 
 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, ki be not im- 
 portunate ; if thou puttest me to use the carnal weapon 
 in mine own defence, it will be e'en the worse for you.* 
 
 At this moment a distant noise of barking and growl- 
 ing, which the traveller had for some time heard, became 
 extremely loud and furious, and made the knight suppose 
 that the hermit, alarmed by his threat of making forcible 
 entry, had called the dogs, who made this clamour to aid 
 him in his defence, out of some inner recess in which 
 they had been kennelled. Incensed at this preparation on 
 the hermit's part for making good his inhospitable pur- 
 pose, the knight struck the door so furiously with his 
 foot that posts as well as staples shook with violence. 
 
 The anchorite, not caring again to expose his door to a 
 similar shock, now called out aloud : ^ Patience, patience 
 — spare thy strength, good traveller, and I will presently 
 undo the door, though, it may be, my doing so will be 
 little to thy pleasure^' 
 
 The door accordingly was opened ; and the hermit, a 
 large, strong-built man, in his sackcloth gown and hood, 
 girt with a rope of rushes, stood before the 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 
 greyhound, half mastiff, stood ready to rush upon the 
 traveller as soon as the door should be opened. But 
 when the torch glanced upon the lofty crest and golden 
 spurs of the knight who stood without, the hermit, alter- 
 ing probably his original intentions, repressed the rage 
 of his auxiliaries, and, changing his tone to a sort of 
 churlish courtesy, invited the knight to enter his hut, 
 making excuse for his unwillingness to open his lodge 
 after sunset by alleging the multitude of robbers and 
 outlaws who were abroad, and who gave no honour to 
 Our Lady or St. Dunstan, nor to those holy men who 
 spent life in their service. . 
 
 ^The poverty of your cell, good father,'] said the 
 
IVANHOE. 167 
 
 knight, looking aroimd 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 — f'the poverty of your cell 
 should seem a sufficient defence 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 memy 
 
 x-Z'The good keeper of the forest," < said the hermit, 
 ("liath allowed me the use of these animals to protect 
 my solitude until the times shall mency) 
 
 Having said this, he fixed his torch in a twisted 
 branch of iron which served for a candlestick ; and plac- 
 ing the oaken trivet before the embers of the fire, which —3 
 he refreshed with some dry wood, he placed a stool upon 
 one side of the table, and beckoned to the knight to do 
 the same upon the other. 
 
 They sat down, and gazed with great gravity at each 
 other, each thinking in his heart that he had seldom 
 seen a stronger or more athletic figure than was placed 
 opposite to him. 
 
 </ Reverend hermit,') said the knight, after looking 
 long and fixedly at his host, r 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, 'J 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. . f Your stable,'J 
 said he, f is there ; your bed there ; and,') reaching down 
 a platter^with two handfuls of parched pease upon it 
 from the neighbouring shelf, and placing it upon the 
 table, he added, ^your supper is here.'j 
 
 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. 
 
 i ■ 
 
168 IV AN HOE. 
 
 The hermit was apparently somewhat moved to com 
 passion by the anxiety as well as address which the 
 stranger displayed in tending his horse ; for, muttering 
 something about provender left for the keeper's palfrey, 
 he dragged out of a recess a bundle of forage, which he 
 spread before the knight's charger, and immediately 
 afterwards shook down a quantity of dried fern in the 
 corner which he had assigned for the rider's couch. The 
 knight returned him thanks for his courtesy ; and, this 
 duty done, both resumed their seats by the table, whereon 
 stood the trencher of pease 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 mod- 
 estly putting into a very large mouth, furnished with 
 teeth which might have ranked with those of a boar both 
 in sharpness and whiteness, some three or four dried 
 pease, a miserable grist, as .it seemed, for so large and 
 able a mill. <iijrfMZ*^ 
 
 The knight, in order to follow so laudable an example, 
 laid aside his helmet, his corselet, and the greater part 
 of his armour, and showed to the hermit a head thick- 
 , curled with yellow hair, high features, blue eyes, re- 
 markably bright and sparkling, a mouth well-formed, 
 having an upper lip clothed with niustachioes darker 
 than his hair, and bearing altogether the look of a bold, 
 daring, and enterprising man, with which his strong 
 form well corresponded. 
 
 The hermit, as if wishing to answer to the confidence 
 of his guest, threw back his _cowl, and showed a round 
 bullet-head belonging to a man in the prime of life. His 
 close-shaven crown, surrounded by a circle of stiff curled 
 black hair, had something the appearance of a parish- 
 pinfold begirt by its high hedge. The features expressed 
 nothing of monastic austerity or of ascetic privations ; 
 on the, contrary, it was a, bold bluff countenance, with 
 broad black eyebrows, a well-turned forehead, and cheeks 
 as round and vermilion as those of a trumpeter, from 
 which descended a long and curly black beard. Such a 
 
IVANHOE. 169 
 
 visage, joined to the brawny form of the holy man, spoke 
 rather of sirloins and haunches than of pease and pulse. 
 This incongruity did not escape the guest. After he 
 had with great difficulty accomplished the mastication of s 
 a mouthful of the dried pease, 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, 1' in 
 which, betwixt sun and sun, he baptized live hundred 
 „ heathen Danes and Britons — blessed be his name!"' 
 And applying his black beard to the pitcher, he took a 
 draught much more moderate in quantity than his en- 
 comium seemed to warrant, 
 
 /" It seems to me, reverend father, "J said the knight, 
 4 Nmat the small morsels which you eat, together with 
 this holy but somewhat thin beverage, have thriven with 
 you marvellously. You appear a man more fit to win the 
 ram at a wrestling-match, or the ring at a bout at quarter- 
 staff, or the bucklers at a sword-play, than to linger out 
 your time in this desolate wilderness, sayimg masses, and 
 living upon parched pease and cold water.'') 
 
 J' Sir Knight,! answered the hermit, 'f your thoughts, 
 like those of the ignorant laity, are according to the 
 flesh. It has pleased Our Lady and my patron saint to 
 bless the pittance to which I restrain myself, even as 
 the pulse and water was blessed to the children Shad- 
 rach, Meshech, and Abednego, who drank the same 
 rather than defile themselves with the wine and meats 
 which were appointed them by the King of the Saracens.) 
 (" Holy father,*) said the knight, f ' upon whose counte- 
 nance it hath pleased Heaven to work such a miracle,^ 
 permit a sinful layman to crave thy name ?V 
 
 f Thou mayst call me,'* answered the hermit, "the 
 Cl£rk 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 
 honourable guest ? '/ 
 
 " Truly,"isaid the knight, " Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst, 
 
170 IVANHOE. 
 
 men call me in these parts the Black Knight, — many, 
 sir, add to it the epithet of Sluggard, whereby I am no 
 way ambitious to be distinguished.') 
 
 The hermit could scarcely forbear from smiling at his 
 guest's reply. _ 
 
 "I see," said he,'" Sir Sluggish Knight, that thou art 
 a man of prudence and of counsel ; and, moreover, I see 
 that my poor monastic fare likes thee not, accustomed, 
 perhaps, as thou hast been to the license of courts and of 
 camps, and the luxuries of cities ; and now I bethink me, 
 Sir Sluggard, that when the charitable keeper of this 
 forest-walk left these dogs for my protection, and also 
 those bundles of forage, he left me also some food, which, 
 being unfit for my use, the very recollection of it had 
 escaped me amid my more weighty meditations. 7 
 
 ". 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 beheld thy grinders 
 contending with these pease, 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, with- 
 out delay." v ^ / 
 
 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 trust- 
 ing his guest. There was, however, as much of bold 
 frankness in the knight's countenance as was possible to 
 be expressed by features. His smile, too, had something 
 in it irresistibly comic, and gave an assurance of faith 
 and loyalty, with which his host could not refrain from 
 sympathising. 
 
 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 
 
IVANHOE. Ill 
 
 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 ?j 
 said the knight to his host, after having swallowed 
 several hasty morsels of this reinforcement to the her- 
 mit's good cheer. 
 
 " About two months,'' answered the father, hastily. 
 
 < N 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 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 I have been in Palestine, Sir Clerk,"' said the knight, 
 stopping short of a sudden, t' and I bethink me it is a 
 custom there that every host who entertains a guest shall 
 assure him of the wholesomeness of his food by partak- 
 ing of it along with him. Far be it from me to suspect 
 so holy a man of aught inhospitable ; nevertheless, I will 
 be highly bound to you would you comply with this 
 Eastern custom. 'J 
 
 " To ease your unnecessary ^scruples, Sir Knight, I will 
 for once depart from my rule,*] replied the hermit. And 
 as there were no forks in those days, his clutches were 
 instantly in the bowels of the pasty. 
 
 The ice of ceremony being once broken, it seemed 
 matter of rivalry between the guest and the entertainer 
 which should display the best appetite; and although the 
 former had probably fasted longest, yet the hermit fairly 
 surpassed him. * 
 
 " Holy Clerk," said the knight, when his hunger was 
 appeased, " I would 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 
 
172 IVANHOE. 
 
 this noble pasty. This would be a circumstance, doubt- 
 less, 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 
 ^w,. conjecture.^; 
 
 The hermit only replied by a grin ; and returning to 
 the hutch, he produced a leathern bottle, which might 
 contain about four quarts. He also brought forth two 
 large drinking cups, made out of the horn of the urus, 
 and hooped with silver. Having made this goodly pro- 
 vision for washing down the supper, he seemed to think 
 no farther ceremonious scruple necessary on his part; 
 but filling both cups, and saying, in the Saxon fashion, 
 /" Waes hael, Sir Sluggish Knight ! ') he emptied his own 
 Tit a draught. 
 
 (i Drinc hael, Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst ! 7 answered 
 th^e warrior, and did his host reason in a similar brimmer. 
 '"Holy Clerk," said the stranger, after the first cup 
 was thus swallowed, " I cannot but marvel that a man 
 possessed of such thaws and sinews as thine, and who 
 therewithal shows the talent of so goodly a trencherman, 
 should think of abiding by himself in this wilderness. 
 In my judgment, you are fitter to keep a castle or a fort, 
 eating of the fat and drinking of the strong, than to live 
 here upon pulse and water, or even upon the charity of 
 the keeper. At least, were I as thou, I should find my- 
 self both disport and plenty out of the king's deer. 
 There is many a goodly herd in these forests, and a buck 
 will never be missed that goes to the use of St. Dunstan's 
 chaplain^) " ?fcU r 
 
 f ' Sir Sluggish Knight,') replied the Clerk, r 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,'j said the knignt, ^1 
 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, — lie- 
 
IVANHOE. 173 
 
 solve me, Holy Clerk, hast thou never practised such a 
 j3asj-,iine'.' "' 
 
 '{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 
 more curious than ever ! Thou art the most mysterious 
 hermit I ever met; and I will know more of thee ere we 
 part. As for thy threats, 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 her- 
 mit, " respecting thy valour much, but deeming wondrous 
 slightly of thy discretion. If thou wilt take equal arms 
 with me, I will give thee, in all friendship and brotherly 
 love, such sufficing penance and complete absolution that 
 thou shalt not for the next twelve months sin the sin of 
 excess of curiosity." 
 
 The knight pledged him, and desired him to name his 
 weapons. 
 
 " There is none," replied the hermit, " from the scissors 
 of Delilah and the tenpenny nail of Jael, to the scimitar 
 of Goliath, at which I am not a match for thee. But, if 
 I am to make the election, what 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 a very jmcanonical ap pearance^ were 
 also visible when this dark recess was opened. 
 
174 IVANHOE. 
 
 " I promise thee, brother Clerk," said he, " I will ask 
 thee no more offensive questions. The contents of that 
 4^-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. Neverthe- 
 less, 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 St. Dunstan, which, please God, shall be till I 
 change my grey covering for one of green turf. But come, 
 till 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, I love to feel the grape at my 
 very finger-ends before they make the harp-strings tinkle." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 At eve, within yon studious nook, 
 
 I ope my brass-embossed book, 
 
 Portrayed with many a holy deed 
 
 Of martyrs 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 ? Warton. 
 
 Notwithstanding the prescription of the genial her- 
 mit, 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 
 
1VANH0E. 175 
 
 shows thee a master of the craft. Wine and wassail, "r,? 
 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 sirvente 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 ocs and ouis of France. Downright English am I, Sir 
 Knight, and downright English was my patron St. Dun- 
 stan, and scorned oc and oui, as he would have scorned 
 the .parings of the devil's hoof; downright English alone 
 shall be sung in this cell." 
 
 " I will assay, then," said the knight, " a ballad com- 
 posed by a Saxon gleeman, whom I knew in 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. 
 
176 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 : 
 
 44 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 favour fired to feats of might ; 
 Unnoted shall she not remain, 
 Where meet the bright and noble train j 
 Minstrel shall sing and herald tell : 
 ' Mark yonder maid of beauty well, 
 'Tis she for whose bright eyes was won 
 The listed field at Askalon ! 
 
 14 ' 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^oldanJtell. 
 Seest thou her locksTwhose sunny glow 
 Half shows, 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 
 
 •m 
 
 

 And CnSerttine*) his &<eJB ' 
 
\\*t/ 
 
 IVANHOE, 111 
 
 expanded palms, he gently flourished them in time to the 
 music. At one or two favourite cadences he threw in a **' 
 little assistance of his own, where the knight's voice 
 seemed unable to carry the air so high as his worshipful 
 taste approved. When the song was ended, the ancho^ 
 rite emphatically 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 observ- 
 ing that the knight, whose brain began to be heated with 
 these repeated draughts, qualified his flagon from the 
 water pitcher. 
 
 " Why," said the knight, " did you not tell me that this 
 water was from the well of your blessed patron, St. Dun- 
 stan ? " 
 
 " Ay, truly," said the hermit, " and many a hundred 
 of pagans did he baptize there, but I never heard that he 
 drank any of it. Everything should be put 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 
 
 s guest with the following characteristic song, to a sort 
 of ilerry-down chorus, appropriate to an old English 
 ditty : V 
 
 The Barefooted Friar. 
 
 I'll give thee, good fellow, a twelvemonth or twain, 
 To search Europe through, from Byzantium to Spain ; 
 But ne'er shall you find, should you search till you tire, 
 So happy a man as the Barefooted Friar. 
 
 Your knight for his lady pricks forth in career, 
 
 And is brought home at evensong prick' t through with a spear; 
 
 I confess him in haste — for his lady desires 
 
 No comfort on earth save the Barefooted Friar's. 
 
 N 
 
178 IVANHOE. 
 
 Your 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 grey 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 the 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 good wife would wish the goodman in the mire 
 Ere he lack'd a soft pillow, the Barefooted Friar. 
 
 Long flourish the sandal, the cord, and the cope, 
 The dread of the devil and trust of the Pope ; 
 For to gather life's roses, unscathed by the briar, 
 Is granted alone to the Barefooted Friar. 
 
 .1 
 
 * . 
 
 /-? 
 
 " By my troth," said the knight, " thou hast sung well, 
 and lustily, and in high praise of thine order. And 
 talking of the devil, Holy Clerk, are you not afraid that 
 he may pay you a visit during some of your uncanonical 
 pastimes ? " 
 
 " 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 
 jabbot 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." 
 
IVANHOE. 179 
 
 " 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 St. Dunstan himself did. I never feared man, and I 
 as little fear the devil and his imps. St. Dunstan, St. 
 Dubric, St. Winibald, St. Winifred, St. Swibert, St. Wil- 
 lick, not forgetting St. Thomas of 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 morn- 
 ing 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 char- 
 acters ; for, like old Ariosto, we do not pique ourselves 
 upon continuing uniformly to keep company with any 
 one personage of our drama. 
 
 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 green-sward alley — 
 Up and away ! for lovely paths are these 
 To tread, when the glad Sun is on his throne ; 
 Less pleasant, and less safe, when Cynthia's lamp 
 With doubtful glimmer lights the dreary forest. 
 
 Ettrick Forest. 
 
 When Cedric the Saxon saw his son drop down sense- 
 less 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. 
 
 
180 IVANHOE. 
 
 Oswald, however, was anticipated in this good office. 
 The crowd dispersed, indeed, but the knight was nowhere 
 to be seen. 
 
 It was in vain that Cedric's cupbearer looked around 
 for his young master — he saw the bloody spot on which 
 he had lately sunk down, but himself he saw no longer ; 
 it seemed as if the fairies had conveyed him from the 
 spot. Perhaps Oswald — for the Saxons were very super- 
 stitious — might have adopted some such hypothesis to 
 account for Ivanhoe's disappearance, had he not suddenly 
 cast his eye upon a person attired like a squire, in whom 
 he recognised the features of his fellow-servant Gurth. 
 Anxious concerning his master's fate, and in despair at 
 his sudden disappearance, the translated swineherd was 
 searching for him everywhere, and had neglected, in 
 doing so, the concealment on which his own safety de- 
 pended. Oswald deemed it his duty to secure Gurth, as 
 a fugitive of whose fate his master was to judge. 
 
 Renewing his inquiries concerning the fate of Ivanhoe, 
 the only information which the cupbearer could collect 
 from the bystanders was, that the knight had been 
 raised with care by certain well-attired grooms, and 
 placed in a litter^ belonging to a lady among the specta- 
 tors, which hadimmediately transported him out of the 
 press. Oswald, on receiving this intelligence, resolved 
 to return to his master for farther 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 agonising 
 apprehensions concerning his son, for nature had asserted 
 her rights, in spite of the patriotic stoicism which laboured 
 to disown her. But no sooner was he informed that Ivan- 
 hoe was in careful, and probably friendly, hands than the 
 paternal anxiety, which had been excited by the dubiety 
 of his fate, gave way anew to the feeling of injured pride 
 and resentment at what he termed Wilfred's filial dis- 
 obedience. " 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 Nor- 
 man chivalry than to maintain the fame and honour of 
 
IVANHOE. 181 
 
 his English ancestry with the glaive and brown-bill, the 
 good old weapons of his country." 
 
 " If to maintain the honour of ancestry," said Rowena, 
 who was present, " it is sufficient to be wise in 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 Rowena ! on this subject only I hear 
 you not. Prepare yourself for the Prince's festival ; we 
 have been summoned thither with unwonted circumstance 
 of honour and of courtesy, such as the haughty Normans 
 have rarely used to our race since the fatal day of Hast- 
 ings. Thither will I go, were it only to show these proud 
 Normans how little the fate of a son who could defeat 
 their bravest can affect a Saxon." 
 
 " Thither," said Rowena, " do I not go ; and I pray you 
 to beware, lest what you mean for courage and constancy 
 shall be accounted hardness of heart." 
 
 "Remain at home then, ungrateful lady," ansAvered 
 Cedric ; " thine is the hard heart, which can sacrifice the 
 weal of an oppressed people to an idle and unauthorised 
 attachment. I seek the noble Athelstane, and with him 
 attend the banquet of John of Anjou." 
 
 He went accordingly to the banquet, of which we have 
 already mentioned the principal events. Immediately 
 upon retiring from the castle, the Saxon thanes, with 
 their attendants, took horse ; and it was during the bus- 
 tle which attended their doing so 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 humour, and wanted but a pretext 
 ^,for wreaking his anger upon some one. "The gyves!" 
 ^he said — "the gyves! Oswald — Hundebert ! Dogs 
 and villains ! why leave ye the knave unfettered ? " 
 
 Without daring to remonstrate, the companions of 
 Gurth bound him with a Jialter, ^as the readiest cord 
 which occurred. He submitted £0' the operation without 
 remonstrance, except that, darting a reproachful look at 
 his master, he said, "This comes of loving your flesh and 
 blood better than mine own." 
 
*3 
 
 182 IVANHOE. 
 
 " 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 Wal- 
 theoff's preparations for a rere-supper will be altogether 
 spoiled." 
 
 The travellers, 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, 
 received the noble Saxons with the profuse and .exuber- 
 ant 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. ^7^ 
 
 As the cavalcade left the court of the monastery, an 
 incident happened somewhat alarming to the Saxons, who, 
 of all people of Europe, ever most addicted to a super- 
 stitious observance of omens, and to whose opinions can-; 
 be traced most of those notions upon such subjects, still 
 to be found among our popular antiquities. For the 
 Normans being a mixed race and better informed, accord- 
 ing to the information of the times, had lost most of the 
 superstitious prejudices which their ancestors had brought 
 from Scandinavia, and piqued themselves upon thinking 
 freely on such topics. 
 
 In the present instance, the apprehension of impend- 
 ing evil was inspired by no less respectable a prophet 
 than a large lean black dog, which, sitting upright, 
 howled most piteously as the foremost riders left the 
 gate, and presently afterwards, barking wildly, and jump- 
 ing to and fro, seemed bent upon attaching itself to the 
 party. 
 
 "I like not that music, father Cedric," said Athel- 
 stane ; 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 favourable impression — 
 " in my mind we had better turn back and abide with 
 
IVANHOE. 183 
 
 the Abbot until the afternoon. It is unlucky to travel 
 where your path is crossed by a monk, a hare, or a howl- 
 ing dog, until you have eaten your next meal." 
 
 " Away ! " said Cedric, impatiently ; " the day is al- 
 ready too short for our journey. For the dog, I know it 
 to be the cur of the runaway slave Gurth, a useless fugi- 
 tive 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 
 pinning him to the earth ; and Fangs fled howling from 
 the presence of the enraged thane.) ^urth'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 at- 
 tempted to raise his hand to his eye, he said to Wamba, 
 who, seeing his master's ill-humour, had prudently re- 
 treated to the rear, " I pray thee, do me the kindness to 
 wipe my eyes with the skirt of thy mantle; the dust 
 offends me, and these bonds will not let me help myself 
 one way or another." 
 
 Wamba did him the service he required, and they rode 
 side by side for some time, during which Gurth main- 
 tained 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, there- 
 fore, 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 
 
184 I VAN HOE. 
 
 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 kindness. 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 woidd 
 have done, but Fangs happening to bound up at the very 
 moment, received a scratch, which I will be bound to 
 heal with a penny's breadth of tar." 
 
 "If I thought so," said 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 rnalevo- \ 
 lence of him who cast it, and it quivered after it had 
 pitched in the ground, as if with regret for having missed 
 its mark. By the hog dear to St. Anthony, I renounce 
 him ! " 
 
 And the indignant swineherd resumed his sullen si- 
 lence, 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 themselves from the yoke of the Normans, or at 
 least to elevate themselves into national consequence and 
 independence, during the civil convulsions which were 
 likely to ensue. On this subject Cedric was all anima- 
 tion. The restoration of the independence of his race 
 was the idol of his heart, to which he had willingly sac- 
 

 IV AN ROE. 185 
 
 rificed domestic happiness and the interests of his own 
 son. But, in order to achieve this great revolution in 
 favour of the native English, it was necessary that they 
 should be united among themselves, and act under an 
 acknowledged head. The necessity of choosing their 
 chief from the Saxon blood-royal was not only evident in 
 itself, but had been made a solemn condition by those 
 whom Cedric had entrusted with his secret plans and 
 hopes. Athelstane had this quality at least; and 
 though he had few mental accomplishments or talents to 
 recommend 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 counsellors/-" 
 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 consid- 
 ered as head of the Saxon confederacy, many of that 
 nation were disposed to prefer to his the title of the Lady 
 Ilowena, who drew her descent from Alfred, and whose 
 father having been a chief renowned for wisdom, courage, 
 and generosity, his memory was highly honoured by his 
 oppressed countrymen. 
 
 It would have been no difficult thing for Cedric, had 
 he been so disposed, to have placed himself at the head 
 of a third party, as formidable at least as any of the 
 others. To ciuinterbalance their royal descent, he had 
 courage, activity, energy, and, above all, that devoted 
 attachment to the cause which had procured him the 
 epithet of The Saxon, and his birth was inferior to none, 
 excepting only that of 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 Cedric's plan to extinguish that which 
 already existed by promoting a marriage betwixt Rowena 
 and Athelstane. An obstacle occurred to this his favour- 
 ite project in the mutual attachment of his ward and his 
 son; and hence the original cause of the banishment of 
 Wilfred from the house of his father. 
 
 This stem measure Cedric had adopted in hopes that, 
 
186 IVANHOE. 
 
 during Wilfred's absence, Rowena might relinquish her 
 preference ; but in this hope he was disappointed — a 
 disappointment which might be attributed in part to the 
 mode in which his ward had been educated. Cedric, to 
 whom the name of Alfred was as that of a deity, had 
 treated the sole remaining scion of that great monarch 
 with a degree of observance such as, perhaps, was in 
 those days scarce paid to an acknowledged princess. 
 Rowena's will had been in almost all cases a law to his 
 household; and Cedric himself, as if determined that her 
 sovereignty should be fully acknowledged within that 
 little circle at least, seemed to take a pride in acting as 
 the first of her subjects. Thus trained in the exercise 
 not only of free will but despotic authority, Rowena was, 
 by her previous education, disposed both to resist and to 
 resent any attempt to control her affections, or dispose 
 of her hand contrary to her inclinations, and to assert 
 her independence in a case in which even those females 
 who have been trained up to obedience and subjection 
 are not infrequently apt to dispute the authority of guar- 
 dians and parents. The opinions which she felt strongly, 
 she avowed boldly ; and Cedric, who could not free him- 
 self from his habitual deference to her opinions, felt 
 totally at a loss how to enforce his authority of guardian. 
 
 It was in vain that he attempted to dazzle her with the 
 prospect of a visionary throne. Rowena, who possessed 
 strong sense, neither considered his plan as practicable 
 nor as desirable, so far as she was concerned, could it 
 have been achieved. Without attempting to conceal her 
 avowed preference of Wilfred of Ivanhoe, she declared 
 that, were that favoured knight out of question, she would 
 rather take refuge in a convent than share a throne with 
 Athelstane, whom, having always despised, she now be- 
 gan, on account of the trouble she received on his account, 
 thoroughly tOkdetest. ,' ■ <i/*Y'Cc 
 
 Nevertheless, Cedric, whose opinion of women'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 
 
IVANHOE. 187 
 
 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 re- 
 turned in full force, and under their joint operation he 
 was now bent upon making a determined effort for the 
 union of Athelstane and Rowena, together with expedit- 
 ing those other measures which seemed necessary to for- 
 ward the restoration of Saxon independence. 
 
 On this last subject he was now labouring with Athel- 
 stane, 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 honourable an 
 action. Athelstane, it is true, was vain enough, and 
 loved to have his ears tickled with tales of his high de- 
 sceDt, 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 con- 
 cerning the claim of the Saxons to independence, and was 
 still more easily convinced of his own title to reign over 
 them when that independence should be attained, yet 
 when the means of asserting these rights came to be dis- 
 cussed, he was still Athelstane the Unready — slow, ir- 
 resolute, procrastinating, and unenterprising. The warm 
 and impassioned exhortations of Cedric had as little 
 effect upon his impassive temper as red-hot balls alight- 
 ing 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 
 fell back to his ward Rowena, he received little more satis- 
 faction from conferring with her. For, as his presence 
 interrupted the discourse between the lady and her fa- 
 vourite attendant upon the gallantry and fate of Wilfred, 
 Elgitha failed not to revenge both her mistress and her- 
 self by recurring to the overthrow of Athelstane in the 
 
188 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 travellers 
 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 re- 
 past was a pretty long One ; and these several interrup- 
 tions rendered it impossible for them to hope to reach 
 Rotherwood without travelling all night, a conviction 
 which induced them to proceed on their way at a more 
 hasty pace than they had hitherto used. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A train of armed men, some noble dame 
 Escorting (so their scattered 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 travellers had now reached the verge of the wooded 
 country, and were about ,to plunge into its recesses, held 
 dangerous at that time from the number of outlaws whom 
 oppression and poverty had driven to despair, and who 
 occupied the forest in such large bands as could easily 
 bid defiance to the feeble police of the period. From 
 these rovers, however, notwithstanding the lateness of 
 the hour, Cedric and Athelstane accounted themselves 
 secure, as they had in attendance ten servants, besides 
 Wamba and G-urth, whose aid could not be counted upon, 
 the one being a jester and the other a captive. It may 
 be added, that in travelling thus late through the .forest, 
 Cedric and Athelstane relied on their descent and char- 
 acter as well as their courage. The outlaws, whom the 
 severity of the forest laws had reduced to this roving and 
 
IVANHOE. 189 
 
 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 travellers journeyed on their way, they were 
 alarmed by repeated cries for assistance ; and when they 
 rode up to the place from whence they came, they were 
 surprised to find a horse-litter placed upon the ground, 
 beside which sat a young woman, richly dressed in the 
 Jewish fashion, while an old man, whose yellow cap 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 
 could for some time only answer by invoking the protec- 
 tion of all the patriarchs of the Old Testament succes- 
 sively 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 es- 
 cort 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 taken off with them the 
 horses which bore the litter, and left the Jew and his 
 daughter without the means either of defence or of re- 
 treat, to be plundered, and probably murdered, by the 
 banditti, whom they expected every moment would bring 
 down upon them. " Would it but please your valours,' 7 
 added Isaac, in a tone of deep humiliation, "to permit 
 the poor Jews to travel under your safeguard, I swear by 
 the tables of our Law that never has favour been con- 
 ferred upon a child of Israel since the days of our cap- 
 tivity which shall be more gratefully acknowledged." 
 
 " Dog of a Jew!" said Athelstane, whose memory was 
 of that petty kind which stores up trifles of all kinds, but 
 
190 IVANHOE. 
 
 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." 
 
 Rowena, 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 
 dejected posture, and making her way through the at- 
 tendants to the palfrey of the Saxon lady, knelt down, 
 and, after the Oriental fashion in addressing superiors, 
 kissed the hem of Rowena's garment. Then, rising and 
 throwing back her veil, she implored her in the great 
 name of the God whom they both worshipped, and by 
 that revelation of the Law upon Mount Sinai in which 
 they both believed, that she would have compassion upon 
 them, and suffer them to go forward under their safeguard. 
 " It is not for myself that I pray this favour," said Re- 
 becca ; " 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 per- 
 son be transported with care and tenderness under your 
 protection. For, if evil chance him, the last moment of 
 your life would be embittered with regret for denying 
 that which I ask of you." 
 
 The noble and solemn air with which Rebecca made 
 this appeal gave it double weight with the fair Saxon. 
 
 " The man is old and feeble," she said to her guardian, 
 " the maiden young and beautiful, their friend sick and 
 
1 VANHOE. 191 
 
 in peril of his life ; Jews though they be, we cannot as 
 Christians leave them in this extremity. Let them un- 
 load 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 
 Athelstane 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 coloured deeply, for such had been his own 
 fate on the last day of the tournament ; while Rowena, 
 who was pleased in the same proportion, as if to make 
 amends for the brutal jest of her unfeeling suitor, re- 
 quested Rebecca to ride by her side. 
 
 " It were not fit I should do so," answered Rebecca, 
 with proud humility, " where my society might be held a 
 disgrace to my protectress." 
 
 By this time the change of baggage was hastily achieved ; 
 for the single word " outlaws " rendered 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 pre- 
 vailed 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 at- 
 tention to the circumstance. 
 
dr; 
 • c ch 
 
 192 I VAN HOE. 
 
 The path upon which the party travelled was now so 
 narrow as not to admit, with any sort of convenience, 
 above two riders abreast, and began to descend into a 
 dingle, traversed by a brook whose banks were broken, 
 swampy, and overgrown with dwarf willows. Cedric and 
 Athelstane, who were at the head of their retinue, saw 
 the risk of being attacked at this pass ; but neither of 
 them having had much practice in war, no better mode 
 of preventing the danger occurred to them than that they 
 should hasten through the defile as fast as possible. Ad- 
 vancing, therefore, without much order, they had just 
 crossed the brook with a part of their followers, when 
 they were assailed in front, flank, and rear at once, with 
 an impetuosity to which, in their confused and ill-pre- 
 pared condition, it was impossible to offer effectual re- 
 sistance. The shout of "A white dragon! — a white 
 dragon! — St. George for merry England ! " war-cries 
 
 lopted by the assailan ts, as belonging to their assumed 
 
 aracter of Saxon outlaws, was heard on every side, 
 and on every side enemies appeared with a rapidity 
 of advance and attack which seemed to multiply their 
 numbers. 
 
 Both the Saxon chiefs were made prisoners at the same 
 moment, and each under circumstances expressive of his 
 character. Cedric, the instant that an enemy appeared, 
 launched at him his remaining javelin, which, taking bet- 
 ter effect than that which he had hurled at Fangs, nailed 
 the man against an oak tree that happened to be close be- 
 hind him. Thus far successful, Cedric spurred his horse 
 against a second, drawing his sword at the same time, 
 and striking with such inconsiderate fury that his weapon 
 encountered a thick branch which hung over him, and he 
 was disarmed by the violence of his own blow. lie was 
 instantly made prisoner, and pulled from his horse by 
 two or three of the banditti who crowded around him. 
 Athelstane shared his captivity, liis bridle having been 
 seized and lie himself forcibly dismounted long before he 
 could draw his weapon or assume any posture of effectual 
 defence. 
 
 The attendants, embarrassed with baggage, surprised 
 
</ ■' 
 
 ,'/^ 
 
 *jF^e. cos insfanllv rr„scAe- prisoner. 
 
 drxrl foo'ied -frxim kis korsfc-) 
 
IVANHOE. 193 
 
 and terrified at the fate of their masters, fell an easy prey- 
 to the assailants ; while the Lady Rowena, in the centre 
 of the cavalcade, and the Jew and his daughter in the 
 rear, experienced the same misfortune. 
 
 Of all the train none escaped except Wamba, who 
 showed upon the occasion much more courage than those 
 who pretended to greater sense. He possessed himself 
 of a sword belonging to one of the domestics, who was 
 just drawing it with a tardy and irresolute hand, laid it 
 about him like a lion, drove back several who approached 
 him, and made a brave though ineffectual attempt to 
 succour his master. Finding himself overpowered, the 
 Jester at length threw himself from his horse, plunged 
 into the thicket, and, favoured by the general confusion, 
 escaped from the scene of action. 
 
 Yet the valiant Jester, as soon as he found himself 
 safe, hesitated more than once whether he should not turn 
 back and share the captivity of a master to whom he was 
 sincerely attached. 
 
 " I have heard men talk of the blessings of freedom," 
 he said to himself, " but I wish any wise man would 
 teach me what use to make of it now that I have it." 
 
 As he pronounced these words aloud, a voice very near 
 him called out in a low and cautious tone, " Wamba ! " 
 and at the same time a dog, which he recognised to be 
 Fangs, jumped up and fawned upon him. " G-urth ! " 
 answered Wamba with the same caution, and the swine- 
 herd immediately stood before him. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " said he, eagerly ; " what mean 
 these cries and that clashing of swords ? " 
 
 "Only a trick of the times," said Wamba; "they are 
 all prisoners." 
 
 " Who are prisoners ?" exclaimed Gurth, impatiently. 
 
 " My lord, and my lady, and Athelstane, and Hunde- 
 bert and Oswald." 
 
 " In the name of G-od ! " 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 
 
194 IVANHOE. 
 
 green cassocks and black visors. And they lie all tum- 
 bled 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 sud- 
 denly made his appearance and commanded them both 
 to halt. From his dress and arms, Wamba would have 
 conjectured him to be one of those outlaws who had just 
 assailed his master ; but, besides that he wore no mask, 
 the glittering baldric across his shoulder, with the rich 
 bugle-horn which it supported, as well as the calm and 
 commanding expression of his voice and manner, made 
 him, notwithstanding the twilight, recognise Locksley, 
 the yeoman who had been victorious, under such disad- 
 vantageous circumstances, in the contest for the prize of 
 archery. 
 
 " What is the meaning of all this," said he, " or who 
 is it that rifle, and ransom, and make prisoners in these 
 forests ? " 
 
 " You may look at their cassocks close by," said 
 Wamba, "and see whether they be thy children's coats 
 or no — for they are as like thine own as one green pea- 
 .cod is to another." 
 
 " I will learn that presently," answered Locksley ; 
 " and I charge ye, on peril of your lives, not to stir from 
 the place where ye stand, until I have returned. Obey 
 me, and it shall be the better for you and your masters. 
 — Yet stay, I must render myself as like these men as 
 possible." 
 
IVANHOE. 195 
 
 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 pur- 
 pose of reconnoitring. 
 
 " 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 
 himself a true man." 
 
 "Let him be the devil," said Gurth, "an 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 learnt to whom they belong, and whither 
 they are bound. There is, I think, no chance that they 
 will proceed to any actual violence against their pris- 
 oners. 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 one approaches. But I trust soon to gather 
 such a force as may act in defiance of all their precau- 
 tions. You are both servants, and, as I think, faithful 
 servants, of Cedric the Saxon, the friend of the rights of 
 Englishmen. He shall not want English hands to help 
 him in this extremity. Come, then, with me, until I 
 gather more aid." 
 
 So saying, he walked through the wood at a great 
 pace, followed by the Jester and the swineherd. It was 
 not consistent with Wamba' s humour to travel long in 
 silence. 
 
 " I think," said he, looking at the baldric and bugle 
 which he still carried, " that I saw the arrow shot 
 which won this gay prize, and that not so long since as 
 Christmas." 
 
 "And I," said Gurth, "could take it on my halidome 
 that I have heard the voice of the good yeoman who 
 
196 IVANHOE. 
 
 won it, by night as well as by day, and that the moon is 
 not three days older since I did so." 
 
 " Mine honest friends," replied the yeoman, " who or 
 what I am 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 matters which, as they do not concern 
 you, so neither need ye busy yourselves respecting them." 
 
 " Our heads are in the lion's mouth," said Wamba, in 
 a whisper to 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." 
 
 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' 1 s Well. 
 
 It was after three hours' good walking that the ser- 
 vants of Cedric, with their mysterious guide, arrived at 
 a small opening in the forest, in the centre 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 
 
IVANHOE. 197 
 
 the string were pointed towards the quarter from which 
 the travellers approached, when their guide, being recog- 
 nised, 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 towards Rotherham." 
 
 " With how many ? " demanded the leader, for such 
 he seemed to be. 
 
 " With six men, and good hope of booty, if it please 
 St. Nicholas." 
 
 " Devoutly spoken," said Locksley ; " and where is 
 Allan-a-Dale ? " 
 
 " Walked up towards the Watling Street to watch for 
 the Prior of Jorvaulx." 
 
 " 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 towards 
 Torquilstone, the castle of Front-de-Boeuf. A set of 
 gallants, who have been masquerading in such guise as 
 our own, are carrying a band of prisoners thither. — 
 Watch them closely, for even if they reach the castle 
 before we collect our force, our honour 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, pur- 
 sued their way to the chapel of Copmanhurst. 
 
 When they reached the little moonlight glade, having 
 in front the reverend though ruinous chapel and the rude 
 
198 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 
 farther from God.' — And by my cockscomb," he added, 
 " I think it be even so. Hearken but to the black sanc- 
 tus which they are singing in the hermitage ! " 
 
 In fact, the anchorite and his guest were performing, 
 at the full extent of their very powerful lungs, an old 
 drinking song, of which this was the burden : 
 
 ' Come, 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 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 
 repeated knocks had at length disturbed the anchorite 
 and his guest. " By my beads," said the hermit, stop- 
 ping short in a grand nourish, " 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 
 construe the hospitable refreshment which I have been 
 offering to you, a weary traveller, 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 
 
I VAN HOE. 199 
 
 in this very land whom I would rather speak to through 
 the bars of my helmet than barefaced." 
 
 " Get thine iron pot on thy head then, friend Sluggard, 
 as quickly as thy nature will permit," said the hermit, 
 " while I remove these pewter flagons, whose late contents 
 run strangely in mine own pate ; and to drown the clatter 
 — for, in faith, I feel somewhat unsteady — strike into 
 the tune which thou hearest me sing. It is no matter 
 for the words; I scarce know them myself." 
 
 So saying, he struck up a thundering De profundis cla- 
 mavi, under cover of which he removed the apparatus of 
 their banquet; while the knight, laughing heartily, and 
 arming himself all the while, assisted his host with his 
 voice from time to time as his mirth permitted. 
 
 " What devil's matins are you after at this hour ? " 
 said a voice from without. 
 
 " Heaven forgive you. Sir Traveller ! " said the hermit, 
 whose own noise, and perhaps his nocturnal potations, pre- 
 vented from recognising accents which were tolerably 
 familiar to him. — - Wend on your way, in the name of 
 God and St. Dunstan, and disturb not the devotions of 
 me and my holy brother." 
 
 " Mad priest," answered the voice from without, " open 
 to Locksley ! " 
 
 " All's safe — all's right," said the hermit to his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " But who is he ? " said the Black Knight ; " it im- 
 ports 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 an- 
 swered. 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," 
 
200 IVANHOE. 
 
 The dogs, in the meantime, which had made a dreadful 
 baying at the commencement of the disturbance, seemed 
 now to recognise 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 admit- 
 tance to a knight thou dost not know ? Hast thou for- 
 got 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 An- 
 thony of Scrabelstone ; 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 grey gown for a green cassock, and if I 
 make not a quarter-staff ring twelve upon thy pate, I am 
 neither true clerk nor good woodsman." 
 
 While he spoke thus, he stript 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 
 
IVANHOE. 201 
 
 hose of the same colour. " I pray thee, truss my points," 
 said he to Wamba, " and thou shalt have a cup of sack 
 for thy labour." 
 
 " 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 j " I will but confess the 
 sins of my green cloak to my grey friar's frock, and all 
 shall be well again." 
 
 " Amen ! " answered the Jester. " A broadcloth peni- 
 tent should have a sackcloth confessor, and your frock 
 may absolve my motley doublet into the bargain." 
 
 So saying, he accommodated the Friar with his assist- 
 ance in tying the endless number of points, as the laces 
 which attached the hose to the doublet were then termed. 
 
 While they were thus employed, Locksley led the 
 knight a little apart, and addressed him thus : " Deny it 
 not, Sir Knight, you are he who decided the victory to 
 the advantage of the English against the strangers on 
 the second day of the tournament at Ashby." 
 
 " And what follows if you guess truly, good yeoman ? " 
 replied the knight. 
 
 "I should in that case hold you," replied the yeoman, 
 " a friend to the weaker party." 
 
 " Such is the duty of a true knight at least," replied 
 the Black Champion ; " and I would not willingly that 
 there were reason to think otherwise of me." 
 
 " But for my purpose," said the yeoman, " thou shouldst 
 be as well a good Englishman as a good knight ; for that 
 which I have to speak of concerns, indeed, the duty of 
 every honest man, but is more especially that of a true- 
 born native of England." 
 
 " You can speak to no one," replied the knight, " to 
 whom England, and the life of every Englishman, can be 
 dearer than to me." 
 
 "I would willingly believe so," said the woodsman, 
 " for never had this country such need to be supported 
 by those who love her. Hear me, and I will tell thee of 
 an enterprise in which, if thou be'st really that which 
 thou seemest, thou mayst take an honourable part. A 
 
202 IVANHOE. 
 
 band of villains, in the disguise of better men than them- 
 selves, 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 friends. — 
 With this account of me you must for the present re- 
 main satisfied, the more especially since you yourself de- 
 sire 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 free- 
 dom these oppressed captives ; which done, I trust we 
 shall part better acquainted, and well satisfied with each 
 other." 
 
 " So," said Wamba to Grirth, — for the Friar being now 
 fully equipped, the Jester, having approached to the other 
 side of the hut, had heard the conclusion of the con- 
 versation — " so we have got a new ally ? I trust the 
 valour 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." 
 
 " Hold thy peace, Wamba," said G-urth ; " it may all 
 be as thou dost guess ; but were the horned devil to rise 
 and proffer me his assistance to set at liberty Cedric and 
 the Lady Rowena, I fear I should hardly have religion 
 enough to refuse the foul fiend's otter, and bid him get 
 behind me." 
 
 The Friar was now completely accoutred as a yeoman, 
 with sword and buckler, bow and quiver, and a strong 
 
IVANHOE. 203 
 
 partisan over his shoulder. He left his cell at the head 
 of the party, and, having carefully locked the door, de- 
 posited the key under the threshold. 
 
 " Art thou in condition to do good service, Friar," said 
 Locksley, "or does the brown bowl still run in thy 
 head ? " 
 
 "Not more than a draught of St. Dunstan's fountain 
 will allay," answered the priest ; " something there is of 
 a whizzing in my brain, and of instability in my legs, but 
 you shall presently see both pass away." 
 
 So saying, he stepped to the stone basin, in which the 
 waters of the fountain as they fell formed bubbles which 
 danced in the white moonlight, and took so long a draught 
 as if he had meant to exhaust the spring. 
 
 " When didst thou drink as deep a draught of water 
 before, Holy Clerk of 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 foun- 
 tain, 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. — Wlien I am 
 cased in my green cassock, I will drink, swear, and woo 
 a lass with any blythe forester in the West Biding." 
 
 " Come on, Jack Priest," said Locksley, " and be 
 silent; thou art as noisy as a whole convent on a holy 
 eve, when the Father Abbot has gone to bed. — Come on 
 you, too, my masters, tarry not to talk of it — I say, 
 come on ; we must collect all our f orces, and few enough 
 
204 IVANHOE. 
 
 we shall have, if we are to storm the castle of Reginald 
 Front-de-Boeuf." 
 
 " What ! is it Front-de-Boeuf," said the Black Knight, 
 " who has stopt on the king's highway the king's liege 
 subjects ? — Is he turned thief and oppressor ? " 
 
 " Oppressor he ever was," said Locksley. 
 
 "And for thief," said the priest, "I doubt if ever he 
 were even half so honest a man as many a thief of my 
 acquaintance." 
 
 " Move on, priest, and be silent," said the yeoman ; " it 
 were better you led the way to the place of rendezvous 
 than say what should be left unsaid, both in decency and 
 prudence." 
 
 CHAPTER 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 towards the 
 place of security where ftiey 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 direc- 
 tion 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 
 
IVAXHOE. 205 
 
 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. 
 
 "I would hope, however, Sir Knight," said the Tem- 
 plar, "that this alteration of measures arises from no 
 suspicion of my honourable meaning, such as Fitzurse 
 endeavoured to instil into thee ? " 
 
 " My thoughts are my own," answered De Bracy ; " the 
 fiend laughs, they say, when one thief robs another ; and 
 we know, that were he to spit lire and brimstone instead, 
 it would never prevent a Templar from following his 
 bent." 
 
 •• Or the leader of a Free Company," answered the 
 Templar, " from dreading at the hands of a comrade and 
 friend the injustice he does to all mankind." 
 
 "This is unprofitable and perilous recrimination," 
 answered De Bracy ; " suffice it to say, I know the 
 morals of the Temple Order, and I will not give thee 
 the power of cheating me out of the fair prey for which 
 I have run such risks." 
 
 " Psha," 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 
 
206 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 gainsay 
 me?" 
 
 " No one that I know," said De Bracy, " unless it be 
 your vow of celibacy or a check of conscience for an in- 
 trigue with a Jewess." 
 
 " For my vow," said the Templar, " our Grand Master 
 hath granted me a dispensation. And for my conscience, 
 a man that has slain three hundred Saracens need not 
 reckon up every little failing, like a village girl at her 
 first confession upon Good Friday eve." 
 
 "Thou knowest best thine own privileges," said De 
 Bracy. " Yet, I would have sworn thy thought had been 
 more on the old usurer's money-bags than on the black 
 eyes of the daughter." 
 
 " I can admire both," answered the Templar ; " besides, 
 the old Jew is but half-prize. I must share his spoils 
 with Front-de-Boeuf, who will not lend us the use of his 
 castle for nothing. I must have something that I can 
 term exclusively my own by this foray of ours, and I 
 have fixed on the lovely Jewess as my peculiar prize. 
 But, now thou knowest my drift, thou wilt resume thine 
 own original plan, wilt thou not ? — Thou hast nothing, 
 thou seest, to fear from my interference." 
 
 "No," replied De Bracy, "I will remain beside my 
 prize. What thou sayst 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 en- 
 deavouring to wring out of those who guarded him an 
 avowal of their character and purpose. " You should be 
 Englishmen," said he ; " and yet, sacred Heaven ! you 
 prey upon your countrymen as if you were very Nor- 
 mans. You should be my neighbours, and, if so, my 
 friends ; for which of my English neighbours have reason 
 
IVANHOE. 207 
 
 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 curst 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 ac- 
 tions, 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 in- 
 duced to break it either by his wrath or his expostula- 
 tions. They continued to hurry him along, travelling at 
 a very rapid rate, until, at the end of an avenue of huge 
 trees, arose Torquilstone, now the hoary and ancient castle 
 of Reginald Front-de-Bceuf . It was a fortress of no great 
 size, consisting of a donjon, or large and high square tower, 
 surrounded by buildings of inferior height, which were 
 encircled by an inner courtyard. Around the exterior 
 wall was a deep moat, supplied with water from a neigh- 
 bouring rivulet. Front-de-Bceuf, whose character placed 
 him often at feud with his enemies, had made consider- 
 able additions to the strength of his castle, by building 
 towers upon the o- tward 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. 
 
 Cedric no sooner saw the turrets of Front-de-Bceuf s 
 castle raise their grey and moss-grown battlements, glim- 
 mering in the morning sun above the wood by which they 
 were surrounded, than he instantly augured more truly 
 concerning the cause of his misfortune. 
 
 " I did injustice," he said, " to the thieves and outlaws 
 of these woods, when I supposed such banditti to belong 
 to their bands ; I might as justly have confounded the 
 foxes of these 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 
 
208 IVANHOE. 
 
 Cedric cannot rescue England, he is willing to die for 
 her. Tell your tyrannical master, I do only beseech him 
 to dismiss the Lady Rowena in honour 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 draw- 
 bridge and admit them. The prisoners were compelled 
 by their guards to alight, and were conducted to an apart- 
 ment 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 Cedric to understand that they 
 were to be imprisoned in a chamber apart from Rowena. 
 Resistance was vain ; and they were compelled to follow 
 to a large room, which, rising on clumsy Saxon pillars, 
 resembled those refectories and chapter-houses which 
 may be still seen in the most ancient parts of our most 
 ancient monasteries. 
 
 The Lady Rowena was next separated from her train, 
 and conducted, with courtesy, indeed, but still without 
 consulting her inclination, to a distant apartment. The 
 same alarming distinction was conferred on Rebecca, in 
 spite of her father's entreaties, who offered even money, 
 in this extremity of distress, that she might be permitted 
 to abide with him. " Base unbeliever," answered one of 
 his guards, " when thou hast seen thy lair, thou wilt not 
 wish thy daughter to partake it." And, without farther 
 discussion, the old Jew was forcibly dragged off in a 
 different direction from the other prisoners. The domes- 
 tics, after being carefully searched and disarmed, were 
 confined in another part of the castle ; and Rowena was 
 refused even the comfort she might have derived from 
 the attendance of her handmaiden Elgitha. 
 
 The apartment in which the Saxon chiefs were con- 
 fined, for to them we turn our first attention, although 
 
IVANHOE. 209 
 
 at present used as a sort of guard-room, had formerly 
 been the great hall of the castle. It was now abandoned 
 to meaner purposes, because the present lord, among 
 other additions to the convenience, security, and beauty 
 of his baronial residence, had erected a new and noble 
 hall, whose vaulted roof was supported by lighter and 
 more elegant pillars, and fitted up with that higher de- 
 gree of ornament which the Normans had already intro- 
 duced into architecture. 
 
 Cedric paced the apartment, filled with indignant re- 
 flections on the past and on the present, while the apathy 
 of his companion served, instead of patience and philoso- 
 phy, 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 
 themselves to the rebel Tosti. It was in this hall that 
 Harold returned the magnanimous answer to the ambas- 
 sador of his rebel brother. Oft have I heard my father 
 kindle as he told the tale. The envoy of Tosti was ad- 
 mitted, when this ample room could scarce contain the 
 crowd of noble Saxon leaders who were quaffing the blood- 
 red wine around their monarch." 
 
 "I hope," said 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 breathing-space allowed to break our fast, and I never 
 have the benefit of my food when I eat immediately after 
 dismounting from horseback, though the leeches recom- 
 mend 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 
 
210 IVANHOE. 
 
 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, fiercely, ' or, as 
 Hardrada is said to be a giant, perhaps we may allow 
 him twelve inches more.' — The hall rung with ac- 
 clamations, and cup and horn was filled to the Norwegian, 
 who should be speedily in possession of his English 
 territory." 
 
 " I could have pledged him with all my soul," said 
 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 to Tosti and his ally the ominous 
 answer of his injured brother. It was then that the dis- 
 tant towers of York and the bloody streams of the Der- 
 went beheld that direful conflict, in which, after display- 
 ing the most undaunted valour, the King of Norway and 
 Tosti both fell, with ten thousand of their bravest fol- 
 lowers. — 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 Nor- 
 wegian 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 vijje 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, 
 
IVANHOE. 211 
 
 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 re- 
 flections 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 mak- 
 ing glass, or of staining it. The pride of Wolf ganger'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 fan- 
 tastic hues. The foreigner came here poor, beggarly, 
 cringing, and subservient, ready to don his cap to the 
 meanest native of the household. He returned pampered 
 and proud to tell his rapacious countrymen of the wealth 
 and the simplicity of the Saxon nobles — a folly, Athel- 
 stane ! foreboded of old, as well as foreseen by those de- 
 scendants of Hengist and his hardy tribes who retained 
 the simplicity of their manners. We made these 
 strangers our bosom friends, our confidential servants ; 
 we borrowed their artists and their arts, and despised the 
 honest simplicity and hardihood with which our brave 
 ancestors supported themselves ; and we became ener- 
 vated by Norman arts long ere we fell under Norman 
 arms. Far better was our homely diet, eaten in peace 
 and liberty, than the luxurious dainties, the love of which 
 hath delivered us as bondsmen to the foreign conqueror ! ' 
 
 " I should," replied Athelstane, " hold very humble diet 
 a luxury at present ; and it astonishes me, noble Cedric, 
 that you can bear so truly in mind the memory of past 
 deeds, when it appeareth you forget the very hour of 
 dinner." 
 
 " It is time lost," muttered Cedric apart and impatiently, 
 " to speak to him of aught else but that which concerns 
 his appetite ! The soul of Hardicanute hath taken pos- 
 session of him, and he hath no pleasure save to fill, to 
 swill, and to call for more. — Alas ! " said he, looking at 
 Athelstane with compassion, " that so dull a spirit should 
 be lodged in so goodly a form ! Alas ! that such an en- 
 
212 IVANHOE. 
 
 terprise as the regeneration of England should turn on a 
 hinge so imperfect ! Wedded to Rowena, indeed, her 
 nobler and more generous soul may yet awake the better 
 nature which is torpid within him. Yet how should this 
 be, while 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 in a table covered 
 with dishes, the sight and smell of which seemed to be 
 an instant compensation to Athelstane for all the incon- 
 venience 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 con- 
 tinued, willing to use this opportunity to open a nego- 
 tiation for his freedom — " tell your master, Reginald 
 Front-de-Bceuf, that we know no reason he can have for 
 withholding our liberty, excepting his unlawful desire to 
 enrich himself at our expense. Tell him that we yield 
 to his rapacity, as in similar circumstances we should do 
 to that of a literal robber. , Let him name the ransom at 
 which he rates our liberty, and it shall be paid, providing 
 the exaction is suited to our means." 
 
 The sewer made no answer, but bowed his head. 
 
 " And tell Sir Reginald Front-de-Bceuf," said Athel- 
 stane, " that I send him my mortal defiance, and chal- 
 lenge him to combat with me, on foot or horseback, at 
 any secure place, within eight days after our liberation ; 
 which, if he be a true knight, he will not, under these 
 circumstances, venture to refuse or to delay." 
 
 " I shall deliver to the 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 
 
IVAN-HOE. 213 
 
 exercise of both jaws at once, added to a natural hesita- 
 tion, considerably damped the effect of the bold defiance 
 it contained. Still, however, his speech was hailed by 
 Cedric as an incontestable token of reviving spirit in his 
 companion, whose previous indifference had begun, not- 
 withstanding his respect for Athelstane's descent, to wear 
 out his patience. But he now cordially shook hands with 
 him in token of his jipprobation, and was somewhat grieved 
 when Athelstane observed, " That he would fight a dozen 
 such men as Front-de-Boeuf, if by so doing he could hasten 
 his departure from a dungeon where they put so much 
 garlic into their pottage." Notwithstanding this intima- 
 tion of a relapse into the apathy of sensuality, Cedric 
 placed himself opposite to Athelstane, and soon showed 
 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 en- 
 chanted castle by the destined knight at whose summons 
 halls and towers, barbican and battlement, were to roll 
 off like a morning vapour. The Saxons started from the 
 table and hastenecPto the window. But their curiosity 
 was disappointed; for these outlets only looked upon 
 the court of the castle, and the sound came from beyond 
 its precincts. The summons, however, seemed of impor- 
 tance, for a considerable degree of bustle instantly took 
 place in the castle. 
 
214 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 My daughter ! O my ducats ! O my daughter 
 
 O my Christian ducats ! 6-e-*~~ 
 
 Justice — the Law — my ducats and my daughter ! 
 
 Merchant of Venice. 
 
 Leaving the Saxon chiefs to return to their banquet 
 as soon as their ungratified curiosity should permit them 
 to attend to the calls of their half-satiated appetite, we 
 have to look in upon the yet more severe imprisonment 
 of Isaac of York. The poor Jew had been hastily thrust 
 into a dungeon-vault of the castle, the floor of which was 
 deep beneath the level of the ground, and very damp, 
 being lower than even the moat itself. The only light 
 was received through one or two 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 appre- 
 hended, hung rusted and empty on the walls of the 
 prison, and in the rings of one of those sets of fetters 
 there remained two mouldering bones, which seemed to 
 have been once those of the human leg, as if some pris- 
 oner had been left not only to perish there, but to be 
 L- 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 
 terrors of which the cause was as yet remote and contin- 
 gent. (/^The lover p nf the chase say that-lhe_iiajie_ieels. 
 more agony during the pursuit of the greyhounds— 1 
 when she is struggling in their fangs.\ And thus it is 
 
IVANEOE. 215 
 
 probable that the Jews, by the very frequency of their 
 fear on all occasions, had their minds in some degree 
 prepared for every effort of tyranny which could be 
 practised 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 natioD, and 
 that unbending resolution with which Israelites have 
 been frequently known to submit to the uttermost evils 
 which power and violence can iDflict upon them, rather 
 than gratify their oppressors by granting their demands. 
 
 In this humour of passive resistance, and with his 
 garment collected beneath him to keep his limbs from 
 the wet pavement, Isaac sat in a corner of his dungeon, 
 where his folded hands, his dishevelled hair and beard, 
 his furred cloak and high cap, seen by the wiry and 
 broken light, would have afforded a study for Kem- 
 brandt, had that celebrated painter existed at the period. 
 The Jew remained without altering his position for 
 nearly three hours, at the expiry of which steps were 
 heard on the dungeon stair. The bolts screamed as they 
 were withdrawn, the hinges creaked as the wicket opened, 
 and Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, followed by the two Sara- 
 cen slaves of the Templar, entered the prison. 
 
 Front-de-Boeuf, a tall and strong man, whose life had 
 been spent in public war or in private feuds and broils, 
 and who had hesitated at no means of extending his 
 feudal power, had features corresponding to his charac- 
 ter, 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 honourable valour ; but, in the peculiar case 
 of Front-de-Boeuf, they only added to the ferocity of his 
 countenance, and to the dread which his presence in- 
 spired. This formidable baron was clad in a leathern 
 
 A, x- 
 
216 IVANHOE. 
 
 doublet, fitted close to his body, which was frayed and 
 soiled with the stains of his armour. 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 Front-de-Boeuf were 
 stripped of their gorgeous apparel, and attired in jerkins 
 and trowsers 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 stopt at the door until Front-de-Boeuf 
 himself carefully locked and double-locked it. Having 
 taken this precaution, he advanced slowly up the apart- 
 ment towards the Jew, upon whom he kept his eye fixed, 
 as if he wished to paralyse 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- 
 Boeuf possessed some portion of that supposed power 
 over his unfortunate prisoner. The Jew sate with his 
 mouth agape, and his eyes fixed on the savage baron 
 with such earnestness of terror that his frame seemed 
 literally to shrink together, and to diminish in size while 
 encountering the fierce Norman's fixed and baleful gaze. 
 The unhappy Isaac was deprived not only of the power 
 of rising to make the obeisance which his terror dictated, 
 but he could not even doff his cap, or utter any word of 
 supplication ; so strongly was he agitated by the con- 
 viction that tortures and death were impending over 
 him. 
 
 On the other hand, the stately form of the Norman 
 appeared to dilate in magnitude, like that of the eagle, 
 which ruffles up its plumage when about to pounce on its 
 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-Boeuf, and again 
 
IVANHOE. 217 
 
 retired to the respectful distance at which his companion 
 had already taken his station. 
 
 The motions of these men were slow and solemn, as if 
 there impended over their souls some preconception of 
 horror and of cruelty. Front-de-Boeuf himself opened 
 the scene by thus addressing his ill-fated captive. 
 
 " pMost accursed dog of an acc ursed race," he said, 
 awaking with his deep and sullen voice the sullen echoes 
 of his dungeon-vault, " seest thou these scales ? " 
 
 'J he unhappy Jew returned a feeble affirmative. 
 
 " In these very scales shalt thou weigh me out," said 
 the relentless Baron, "a thousand silver pounds, alter 
 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 min- 
 strel'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 J' ^ 
 
 ^1 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 ; 
 " I am old, and poor, and helpless. It were unworthy to 
 triumph over me. — It is a poor deed to crush a worm.^ 
 
 " Old thou mayst be," replied the knight ; " more 
 shame to their folly who have suffered thee to grow grey 
 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/* 
 
 v I swear to you, noble knight," said the Jew, " by all 
 which I believe, and by all which we believe in com- 
 
 mon " 
 
 " Perjure not thyself," said the Norman, interrupting 
 
 him, "and let not thine obstinacy seal thy doom, until 
 
218 IVANHOE. 
 
 thou hast seen and well considered the fate that awaits 
 thee. Think not I speak to thee only to excite thy ter- 
 ror, and practise on the base cowardice thou hast derived 
 from thy tribe. I swear to thee by that which thou dost 
 not believe, by the Gospel which our church teaches, and 
 by the keys which are given her to bind and to loose, 
 that my purpose is deep and peremptory. This dungeon 
 is no place for trifling. Prisoners ten thousand times 
 more distinguished than thou have died within these 
 walls, and their fate hath never been known ! But for 
 thee is reserved a long and lingering death, to which 
 theirs were luxury^* 
 
 He again made a signal for the slaves to approach, and 
 spoke to them apart, in their own language ; for he also 
 had been in Palestine, where, perhaps, he had learnt 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 exer- 
 cised the bellows until the fuel came to a red glow. 
 
 " Seest thou, Isaac/')' said Front-de-Boeuf, " the range 
 of iron bars above that glowing charcoal ? — On that 
 warm couch thou shalt lie, stripped of thy clothes as if 
 thou wert to rest on a bed of down. One of these slaves 
 shall maintain the fire beneath thee, while the other shall 
 anoint thy wretched limbs with oil, lest the roast should 
 burn. — Now, choose betwixt such a scorching bed and 
 the payment of a thousand pounds of silver ; for, by the 
 head of my father, thou hast no other option." 
 
 i"Itis 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-Boeuf, 'fit 
 were a fatal error. Dost thou think that I, who haVe 
 seen a town sacked, in which thousands of my Christian 
 countrymen perished by sword, by flood, and by fire, will 
 blench from my purpose for the outcries or screams of 
 one single wretched Jew ? Or thinkest thou that these 
 
sM 
 
 
IVANHOE. 219 
 
 swarthy slaves, who have neither law, country, nor con- 
 science, 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 understand the language in which it is asked ? 
 Be wise, old man ; discharge thyself of a portion of thy 
 superfluous wealth ; repay to the hands of a Christian a 
 part of what thou hast acquired by the usury thou hast 
 practised 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." 
 
 r 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 exorbi- 
 tant demand \J) 
 
 .^Seize him and strip him, slaves," said the knight, "and 
 let the fathers of his race assist him if they can." 
 
 The assistants, taking their directions more from the 
 Baron's eye and his hand than his tongue, once more 
 stepped forward, laid hands on the unfortunate Isaac, 
 plucked him up from the ground, and, holding him be- 
 tween them, waited the hard-hearted Baron's farther 
 signal. The unhappy Jew eyed their countenances and 
 that of Front-de-Boeuf, in hope of discovering some symp- 
 toms 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, acquir- 
 ing 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 approach- 
 ing 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 
 
220 IVANHOE. 
 
 no chance of his tormentor's relenting, his resolution 
 gave way. 
 
 "I will pay," he said, "the thousand pounds of silver. — 
 That is/ 5 he added, after a moment's pause, " I will pay 
 it with the help of my brethren ; for I must beg" as a men- 
 dicant at the door of our synagogue ere I make up so un- 
 heard-of a sum. — When and where must it be delivered ?y 
 
 " 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 ?/ 
 
 " 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 pawn-broking 
 slave,'* answered Front-de-Boeuf ; " 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 ? j? 
 
 " Because thou canst not nelp it, Jew," said the knight, 
 sternly. i( 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. 4 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 ran- 
 som." 
 
 " If thou meanest yonder Saxon churls," said Front-de- 
 Boeuf, a their ransom will depend upon other terms than 
 thine. Mind thine own concerns, Jew, I warn thee, and 
 meddle not with those of others./" 
 
 r I am, then," said Isaac, " only to be set at liberty, 
 together with mine wounded friend ? " 
 
IVANHOE. 221 
 
 ."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 thy 
 choice, it remains but that thou payest down thy ransom, 
 and that at a short dayTy 
 
 "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 isforman. But Front-de-Boeuf only laughed, and 
 himself filled up the blank at which the Jew had hesi- 
 tated. " At the expense of my conscience, thou wouldst 
 say, Isaac ; speak it out — I tell thee, I am reasonable. 
 I can bear the reproaches of a loser, even when that loser 
 is a Jew. Thou wert not so patient, Isaac, when thou 
 didst invoke justice against Jacques Fitzdotterel, for 
 calling thee a usurious blood-sucker, when thy exactions 
 had devoured his patrimony." 
 
 " I swear by the Talmud," said the Jew, " that your 
 valour 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-Boeuf, "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 concubine, 
 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 commu- 
 nication made the very vault to ring, and astounded the 
 
222 IVANHOE. 
 
 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-Boeuf. 
 
 " Take all that you have asked," said he, " Sir Knight ; 
 take ten times more — reduce me to ruin and to beggary, 
 if thou wilt, — nay, pierce me with thy poniard, broil me 
 on that furnace ; but spare my daughter, deliver her in 
 safety and honour ! — As thou art born of woman, spare 
 the honour of a helpless maiden. She is the image of 
 my deceased Rachael — she is the last of six pledges of 
 her love. Will you deprive a widowed husband of his 
 sole remaining comfort? — Will you reduce a father to 
 wish that his only living child were laid beside her dead 
 mother, in the tomb of our fathers ? " 
 
 "I would," said the Norman, somewhat relenting, 
 " that I had known of this before. I thought your race 
 had loved nothing save their money-bags." 
 
 " Think not so vilely of us, Jews though we be," said 
 Isaac, eager to improve the moment of apparent sympa- 
 thy ; " 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-Boeuf ; " I will believe it in 
 future, Isaac, for thy very sake — but it aids us not now ; 
 I cannot help what has happened, or what is to follow ; 
 my word is passed to my' comrade in arms, nor would I 
 break it for ten Jews and Jewesses to boot. Besides, 
 why shouldst thou think evil is to come to the girl, even 
 if she became Bois-Guilbert's booty ? " 
 
 " There will — there must ! " exclaimed Isaac, wring- 
 ing his hands in agony ; " when did Templars breathe 
 aught but cruelty to men and dishonour to women ! " 
 
 "Dog of an infidel," said Front-de-Boeuf, with spark- 
 ling eyes, and not sorry, perhaps, to seize a pretext for 
 working himself into a passion, " blaspheme not the Holy 
 Order of the Temple of Zion, but take thought instead to 
 pay me the ransom thou hast promised, or woe betide thy 
 Jewish throat ! " 
 
 " Robber and villain ! " said the Jew, retorting the 
 
IVANHOE. 223 
 
 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 
 honour ! " 
 
 " Art thou in thy senses, Israelite ? " said the Norman, 
 sternly; "hast thy flesh and blood a charm against 
 heated iron and scalding oil ? " 
 
 " I care not ! " said the Jew, rendered desperate by 
 paternal affection ; " do thy worst. My daughter is my 
 flesh and blood, dearer to me a thousand times than those 
 limbs which thy cruelty threatens. No silver will I give 
 thee, unless I were to pour it molten down thy avaricious 
 throat — no, not a silver penny will I give thee, Nazarene, 
 were it to save thee from the deep damnation thy whole 
 life has merited ! Take my life if thou wilt, and say the 
 Jew, amidst his tortures, knew how to disappoint the 
 Christian." 
 
 " We shall see that," said Front-de-Boeuf ; " for by the 
 blessed rood, which is the abomination of thy accursed 
 tribe, thou shalt feel the extremities of fire and steel ! 
 
 — Strip him, slaves, and chain him down upon the bars." 
 In spite of the feeble struggles of the old man, the 
 
 Saracens had already torn from him his upper garment, 
 and were proceeding totally to disrobe him, when the 
 sound of a bugle, twice winded without the castle, pene- 
 trated even to the recesses of the dungeon, and immedi- 
 ately 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 daugh- 
 ter's captivity and probable fate, as his personal or 
 parental feelings might prove strongest. 
 
224 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER 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 arms' end, 
 
 And love you 'gainst the nature of love, force you. 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 The apartment to which the Lady Rowena had been 
 introduced was fitted up with some rude attempts at 
 ornament and magnificence, and her being placed there 
 might be considered as a peculiar mark of respect not 
 offered to the other prisoners. But the wife of Front-de- 
 Boeuf, for whom it had been originally furnished, was 
 long dead, and decay and neglect had impaired the few 
 ornaments with which her taste had adorned it. The 
 tapestry hung down from the walls in many places, and 
 in others was tarnished and faded under the effects of the 
 sun, or tattered and decayed by age. Desolate, however, 
 as it was, this was the apartment of the castle which had 
 been judged most fitting for the accommodation of 
 the Saxon heiress ; and here she was- left to meditate upon 
 her fate, until the actors in this nefarious drama had 
 arranged the several parts which each of them was to 
 perform. This had been settled in a council held by 
 Front-de-Boeuf, De Bracy, and the Templar, in which, 
 after a long and warm , debate concerning the several 
 advantages which each insisted upon deriving from his 
 peculiar share in this audacious enterprise, they had at 
 length determined the fate of their unhappy prisoners. 
 
 It was about the hour of noon, therefore, when De 
 Bracy, for whose advantage the expedition had been first 
 planned, appeared to prosecute his views upon the hand 
 and possessions of the Lady Rowena. 
 
 The interval had not entirely been bestowed in holding 
 council with his confederates, for De Bracy had found 
 leisure to decorate his person with all the foppery of the 
 times. His green cassock and vizard were now flung 
 aside. His long, luxuriant hair was trained to flow in 
 quaint tresses down his richly furred cloak. His beard 
 
Kr\o«A> yt>i* iviTTi'i" 5d<d tho M<\ 
 
IVAN HOE. 225 
 
 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 good 
 demeanour of the wearer, whose manners partook alike 
 of the grace of a courtier and the frankness of a soldier. 
 
 He saluted Rowena by doffing his velvet bonnet, 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 Rowena de- 
 clined, by her gesture, the proffered compliment, and 
 replied : " If I be in the presence of my jailor, Sir Knight 
 — nor will circumstances allow me to think otherwise — 
 it best becomes his prisoner to remain standing till she 
 learns her doom./' 
 
 " Alas ! fair Rowena," returned De Bracy, " you are in 
 presence of your captive, not your jailor ; 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 I repeat to you, Sir Knight, that I know you not, and 
 that no man wearing chain and spurs ought thus to in- 
 trude himself upon the presence of an unprotected lady." 
 
 " That I am unknown to you," said De Bracy, " is in- 
 
 Q 
 
226 IVANHOE. 
 
 deed 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 Rowena, "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 memora- 
 ble conquest of this night, a conquest obtained over an 
 old man, followed by a few timid hinds ; and its booty, 
 an unfortunate maiden transported against her will to the 
 castle of a robber ? " 
 
 " You are unjust, Lady Eowena," said the knight, biting 
 his lips in some confusion, and speaking in a tone more 
 natural to him than that of affected gallantry which he 
 had at first adopted ; " yourself free from passion, you 
 can allow no excuse for the frenzy of another, although 
 caused by your own beauty." 
 
 /"I pray you, Sir Knight, 'J said Rowena, "to cease a 
 language so commonly used by strolling minstrels that it 
 becomes not the mouth of knights or nobles. Certes, 
 you constrain me to sit down, since you enter upon such 
 commonplace terms, of which each vile crowder hath a 
 stock that might last from hence to Christmas.'! 
 
 " Proud damsel," said De 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 pretentions to your hand 
 in the way that best suited thy character. It is meeter 
 for thy humour to be wooed with bow and bill than in set 
 terms and in courtly language." p 
 
 " Courtesy of tongue," said Rowena, " when it is used 
 to veil churlishness of deed, is but a knight's girdle around 
 the breast of a base clown. I wonder not that the re- 
 straint appears to gall you — more it were for your 
 honour to have retained the dress and language of an out- 
 law than to veil the deeds of one under an affectation of 
 gentle language and demeanour." 
 
 "You counsel well, lady," said the Norman; "and in 
 the bold language which best justifies bold action, I tell 
 
IVANHOE. 227 
 
 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 
 in my enterprises, nor needs a Norman noble scrupulously 
 to vindicate his conduct to a Saxon maiden whom he dis- 
 tinguishes by the offer of his hand. Thou art proud, 
 Rowena, and thou art the fitter to be my wife. By what 
 other means couldst thou be raised to high honour and 
 to princely place, saving by my alliance ? How else 
 wouldst thou escape from the mean precincts of a coun- 
 try grange, where Saxons herd with the swine which form 
 their wealth, to take thy seat, honoured as thou shouldst 
 be, and shalt be, amid all in England that is distinguished 
 by beauty or dignified by power ? " 
 
 T" Sir Knight,'' replied Rowena, " the grange which you 
 contemn hath been my shelter from infancy ; and, trust 
 me, when I leave it — should that day ever arrive — it 
 shall be with one who has not learnt to despise the dwell- 
 ing 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 re- 
 sume his throne, far less that Wilfred of Ivanhoe, his 
 minion, will ever lead thee to his footstool, to be there 
 welcomed as the bride of a favourite. Another suitor 
 might feel jealousy while he touched this string ; but my 
 firm purpose cannot be changed by a passion so childish 
 and so hopeless. Know, lady, that this rival is in my 
 power, and that it rests but with me to betray the secret 
 of his being within the castle to Front-de-Bceuf, whose 
 jealousy will be more fatal than mine." 
 
 " Wilfred here I " 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 travelled in the litter of 
 the Jew ? — a meet conveyance for the crusader whose 
 oughty arm was to reconquer the Holy Sepulchre ! " 
 Liid he laughed scornfully. 
 
 *(_A.nd if he is here,'" said Rowena, compelling herself 
 to a tone of indifference, though trembling with an agony 
 
 tne 
 
 Ms 
 
228 IVANHOE. 
 
 of apprehension which she could not suppress/" in what 
 is he the rival of Front-de-Boeuf ? or what has lie to f ear 
 beyond a short imprisonment and an honourable ransom, 
 according to the use of chivalry ? " 
 
 " 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 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 maj^st mourn for, as in the hands of one 
 
 •/ ~? 
 
 who has never shown compassion." 
 
 \" Save him, for the love of Heaven ! J said Rowena, her 
 firmness giving way under terror for her lover's impend- 
 ing fate. 
 
 "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 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 enough to further the fortune, or avert 
 the fate, of one who is likely to be a successful obstacle 
 between me and my wishes. Use thine influence with 
 me in 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 indif- 
 ferent 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," saidl)e Bracy, 
 "until time shall prove it false. Thy lover lies wounded 
 in this castle — thy preferred lover. He is a bar betwixt 
 Front-de-Boeuf and that which Front-de-Boeuf loves better 
 than either ambition or beauty. What will it cost beyond 
 the blow of a poniard, or the thrust of a javelin, to silence 
 his opposition for ever ? Nay, were Front-de-Boeuf afraid 
 
IVANHOE. 229 
 
 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 Wil- 
 fred, in his present condition, is sped without the effusion 
 of blood. Cedric also " 
 
 r" And Cedric also,'' said Kowena, repeating his words 
 — /' my noble — my generous guardian ! I deserved the 
 evil I have encountered, for forgetting his fate even in 
 that of his son ! '/• 
 
 " Cedric's fate also depends 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 
 consider as proper to fair complexions — mild, timid, 
 and gentle; but it had been tempered, and, as it were, 
 hardened, by the circumstances of her education. Accus- 
 tomed to see the will of all, even of Cedric himself (suffi- 
 ciently 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, there- 
 fore, a fictitious character, induced over that which was 
 natural to her, and it deserted her when her eyes were 
 opened to the extent of her own danger, as well as that 
 of her lover and her guardian ; and when she found her 
 will, the slightest expression of which was wont to com- 
 mand respect and attention, now placed in opposition to 
 that of a man of a strong, fierce, and determined mind, 
 who possessed the advantage over her, and was resolved 
 to use it, she quailed before him. - jfYt^ 
 
 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 
 
230 IVANHOE. 
 
 extremity without feeling for her, and De Bracy was not 
 unmoved, though he was yet more embarrassed than 
 touched. He had, in truth, gone too far to recede ; and 
 yet, in Rowena's present condition, she could not be 
 acted on either by argument or 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. 
 
 " If," thought he, " I should be moved by the tears 
 and sorrow of this disconsolate damsel, what should I 
 reap but the loss of those fair hopes for which I have 
 encountered so much risk, and the ridicule of Prince 
 John and his jovial comrades. And yet," he said to 
 himself, " I feel myself ill framed for the part which I 
 am playing. I cannot look on so fair a face while it is 
 disturbed with agony, or on those eyes when they are 
 drowned in tears. I would she had retained her original 
 haughtiness of disposition, or that I had a larger share 
 of Front-de-Boeuf's thrice-tempered hardness of heart ! " 
 
 Agitated by these thoughts, he could only bid the un- 
 fortunate 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 consola- 
 tion 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 inter- 
 rupted their several plans of avarice and of license. Of 
 them all, perhaps, De Bracy least regretted the interrup- 
 tion; 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 dread- 
 ful oppressors, and capable of excesses contrary not only 
 to the laws of England, but to those of nature and hu- 
 
IVANHOE. 231 
 
 manity. But, alas ! we have only to extract from the 
 industrious Henry one of those numerous passages which 
 he has collected from contemporary historians, to prove 
 that fiction itself can hardly reach the dark reality of 
 the horrors of the period. 
 
 The description given by the author of the Saxon 
 Chronicle of the cruelties exercised in the reign of King 
 Stephen by the great barons and lords of castles, who 
 were all Normans, affords a strong proof of the excesses 
 of which they were capable when their passions were in- 
 flamed. " They grievously oppressed the poor people by 
 building castles ; and when they were built, they filled 
 them with wicked men, or rather devils, who seized both 
 men and women who they imagined had any money, 
 threw them into prison, and put them to more cruel tor- 
 tures 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 dun- 
 geons swarming with serpents, snakes, and toads." But 
 it would be cruel to put the reader to the pain of perus- 
 ing the remainder of this description. 
 
 As another instance of these bitter fruits of conquest, 
 and perhaps the strongest that can be quoted, we may 
 mention, that the Empress Matilda, though a daughter 
 of the King of Scotland, and afterwards both Queen of 
 England and Empress of Germany, the daughter, the 
 wife, and the mother of monarchs, was obliged, during 
 her early residence for education in England, to assume 
 ^ihe Yeil of a nun, as the only means of escaping the li- 
 centious 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 circumstances upon which it 
 was founded; giving thus an indubitable and most re- 
 markable 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 
 
232 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 
 honour 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 God, but solely to preserve their 
 honour from the unbridled wickedness of man. 
 
 Such and so licentious were the times, as announced 
 by the public declaration of the assembled clergy, re- 
 corded 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 apocry- 
 phal authority of the Wardour MS. 
 
 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 Rebecca awaited 
 her fate in a distant and sequestered turret. Hither she 
 had been led by two of her disguised ravishers, and on 
 being thrust into the little cell, she found herself in the 
 presence of an old 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 Jewess with the malignant envy with which old 
 age and ugliness, 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 
 e'en leave this chamber to a fairer guest." 
 
 " Ay," grumbled the hag, " even thus is service re- 
 quited. I have known when my bare word would have 
 
IVANHOE. 233 
 
 cast the best man-at-arms among ye out of saddle and 
 out of service ; 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. Lords' 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." 
 
 " 111 omens dog ye both ! " said the old woman ; " and 
 a kennel be your burying-place ! May the evil demon 
 Zernebock tear me limb from limb, if I leave my own 
 cell ere I have spun out the hemp on my distaff ! " 
 
 " Answer it to our lord, then, old house-fiend," said 
 the man, and retired, leaving Rebecca in company with 
 the old woman, upon whose presence she had been thus 
 unwillingly forced. 
 
 " What devil's deed have they now in the wind ? " said 
 the old hag, murmuring to herself, yet from time to time 
 casting a sidelong and malignant glance at Rebecca; 
 "but it is easy to guess. Bright eyes, black locks, and 
 a skin like paper, ere the priest stains it with his black 
 unguent — ay, it is easy to guess why they send her to 
 this lone turret, whence a shriek could no more be heard 
 than at the depth of five hundred fathoms beneath the 
 earth — thou wilt have owls for thy neighbours, fair 
 one ; and their screams will be heard as far, and as 
 much regarded, as thine own. Outlandish, too," she 
 said, marking the dress and turban of Rebecca. " What 
 country art thou of ? — a Saracen or an Egyptian ? 
 Why dost not answer ? Thou canst weep, canst thou 
 not speak ? " 
 
 " Be not angry, good mother," said Rebecca. 
 
 " Thou 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 Rebecca, "tell me 
 what I am to expect as the conclusion of the vio- 
 lence which hath dragged me hither ! Is it my life 
 
234 I VAN HOE. 
 
 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-Bo3uf, father of this Reginald, and his 
 Normans, stormed this castle. My father and his seven 
 sons defended their inheritance from story to story, from 
 chamber to chamber. There was not a room, not a step 
 of the stair, that was not slippery with their blood. 
 They died — they died every man ; and ere their bodies 
 were cold, and ere their blood was dried, I had become 
 the prey and the scorn of the conqueror ! " 
 
 " Is there no help ? — are there no means of escape ? " 
 said Rebecca. " Richly, 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, late," she added, shaking her grey head, " ere 
 these open to us. Yet it is comfort to think that we 
 leave behind us on earth those who shall be wretched as 
 ourselves. Fare thee well, Jewess! — Jew or Gentile, 
 thy fate would be the same ; for thou hast to do with 
 them that have neither scruple nor pity. Fare thee well, 
 I say. My thread is spun out — thy task is yet to begin." 
 
 " Stay ! stay ! for Heaven's sake ! " said Rebecca, 
 "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 Rebecca might hear 
 her curse every step for its steepness, as slowly and with 
 difficulty she descended the turret stair. 
 
IVANHOE. 235 
 
 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 towards one 
 of her oppressed race, whatever shadow of these might 
 be preserved towards 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 Hebrews, had not been able to blind 
 her to the precarious circumstances under which they 
 were enjoyed. Like Damocles 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 reflections had tamed 
 and brought down to a pitch of sounder judgment a 
 temper which, under other circumstances, might have 
 waxed haughty, supercilious, and obstinate. 
 . From her father's example and injunctions, Rebecca 
 had learnt to bear herself courteously towards all who 
 approached her. She could not indeed imitate his excess 
 of subservience, because she was a stranger to the mean- 
 ness of mind and to the constant state of timid appre- 
 hension by which it was dictated ; but she bore herself 
 with a proud humility, as if submitting to the evil cir- 
 cumstances in which she was placed as the daughter of 
 a despised race, while she felt in her mind the conscious- 
 ness that she was entitled to hold a higher rank from 
 her merit than the arbitrary despotism of religious preju- 
 dice permitted her to aspire to. 
 
 Thus prepared to expect adverse circumstances, she 
 had acquired the firmness necessary for acting under 
 them. Her present situation required all her presence 
 of mind, and she summoned it up accordingly. 
 
 Her first care was to inspect the apartment; but it 
 afforded few hopes either of escape or protection. It 
 contained neither secret passage nor trap-door, and, 
 unless where the door by which she had entered joined 
 
236 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 
 Rebecca, at first sight, some hopes of • escaping ; but she 
 soon found it had no communication with any other part 
 of the battlements, being an isolated bartizan, or balcony, 
 secured, as usual, by a parapet, with embrasures, at 
 which a few archers might be stationed for defending 
 the turret, and flanking with their shot the wall of the 
 castle on that side. , . . 
 
 There was therefore no hope but in passive fortitude, 
 and in that strong reliance on Heaven natural to great 
 and generous characters. Rebecca, 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 
 fulness of the Gentiles. In the meanwhile, all around 
 her showed that their present state was that of punish- 
 ment and probation, and that it was their especial duty 
 to suffer without sinning. Thus prepared to consider 
 herself as the victim of misfortune, Rebecca had early 
 reflected upon her own state, and schooled her mind to 
 meet the dangers which she had probably to encounter. 
 
 The prisoner trembled, however, and changed colour, 
 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 misfor- 
 tune, slowly entered, and shut the door behind him ; his 
 cap, pulled down upon his brows, concealed the upper 
 part of his face, and he held his mantle in such a manner 
 as to muffle the rest. In this guise, as if prepared for 
 the execution of some deed, at the thought of which he 
 was himself ashamed, he stood before the affrighted pris- 
 oner ; yet, ruffian as his dress bespoke him, he seemed at 
 a loss to express what purpose had brought him thither, 
 so that Rebecca, making an effort upon herself, had time 
 to anticipate his explanation. She had already unclasped 
 two costly bracelets and a collar, which she hastened to 
 
IVANHOE. 237 
 
 proffer to the supposed outlaw, concluding naturally that 
 to gratify his avarice was to bespeak his favour. 
 
 " Take these/' she said, " good friend, and for God's 
 sake be merciful to me and my aged father. These 
 ornaments are of value, yet are they trifling to what he 
 would bestow to obtain our dismissal from this castle 
 free and uninjured." 
 
 " Fair flower of Palestine," replied the outlaw, " these 
 pearls are orient, but they yield in whiteness to your 
 teeth ; the diamonds are brilliant, but they cannot match 
 your eyes ; and ever since I have taken up this wild 
 trade, I have made a vow to prefer beauty to wealth." 
 
 " Do not do yourself such wrong," said Rebecca ; " take 
 ransom, and have mercy ! — Gold will purchase you 
 pleasure ; to misuse us could only bring thee remorse. 
 My father will willingly satiate thy utmost wishes ; and 
 if thou wilt act wisely, thou mayst purchase with our 
 spoils thy restoration to civil society — mayst obtain 
 pardon for past errors, and be placed beyond the neces- 
 sity of committing more." 
 
 " It is well spoken," replied the outlaw in French, 
 finding it difficult probably to sustain in Saxon a conver- 
 sation 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 convert 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 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 ; u no outlaw had refused 
 such offers. Xo outlaw in this land uses the dialect in 
 which thou hast spoken. Thou art no outlaw, but a 
 Korman — a Korman, 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 trauy/' said Brian de 
 Bois-Guilbert, dropping the mantle from nis face, " art 
 
238 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 dia- 
 monds, which so well become them, than to deprive thee 
 of these ornaments." 
 
 " What wouldst thou have of me," said Eebecca, " if 
 not my wealth ? — We can have nought in common be- 
 tween 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 ! JJespardieax I — Not if she were 
 the Queen of Sheba ! AncTknow, besides, sweet daughter 
 of Zion, that were the most Christian king to offer me his 
 most Christian daughter, with Languedoc for 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. BehoirHhe cfossoi" my Holy Order." 
 
 " Darest thou appeal to it," said Eebecca, " on an occav 
 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 
 salvation." 
 
 " I believe as my fathers taught," said Eebecca ; " and 
 may God forgive my belief if erroneous ! But you, Sir 
 Knight, what is yours, when you appeal without scruple 
 to that which you deem most holy, even while you are 
 about to transgress the most solemn of your vows as a 
 knight and as a man of religion ? " 
 
 " It is gravely and well preached, daughter of 
 Sirach ! " answered the "Templar ; " but, gentle Ecclesi- 
 astica, thy narrow Jewish prejudices make thee blind to 
 our high privilege. Marriage were an enduring crime on 
 the part of a Templar ; but what lesser folly I may prac- 
 tise, I shall speedily be absolved from at the next Pre- 
 ceptory of our Order. Not the wisest of monarchs, not 
 his father, whose examples you must needs allow are 
 weighty, claimed wider privileges than we poor soldiers 
 of the Temple of Zion have won by our zeal in its de- 
 
c 
 
 , IVANHOE. 239 
 
 
 fence. 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^rofligacy, 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 mayst indeed overpower, for God made 
 women weak, and trusted their defence to man's gener- 
 osity. But I will proclaim thy villainy, Templar, from 
 one end of Europe to the other. I will owe to the super- 
 stition 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 ac- 
 cursed for having so far dishonoured 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 man- 
 ner, and under high penalties, such intrigues as he now 
 prosecuted, and that in some instances even degradation 
 had followed upon it — " thou art sharp-witted," he said ; 
 " but loud must be thy voice of complaint if it is heard 
 beyond the iron walls of this castle ; within these, mur- 
 murs, laments, appeals to justice, and screams for help die 
 alike silent away. One thing only can save thee, Rebecca. 
 Submit to thy fate, embrace our religion, and thou shalt 
 go forth in such state that many a Norman lady shall 
 yield as well in pomp as in beauty to the favourite of 
 the best lance among the defenders of the Temple." 
 
 " Submit to my fate ! " said Rebecca ; " and, sacred 
 
240 IVANHOE. 
 
 Heaven ! to what fate ? embrace thy religion ! and what 
 religion can it be that harbours such a villain ? — Thou 
 the best lance of the Templars ! Craven knight ! — for- 
 sworn 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 ! " »^n- 
 
 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 
 between her and the tremendous depth below. Unpre- 
 pared for such a desperate effort, for she had hitherto 
 stood perfectly motionless, Bois-Guilbert had neither 
 time to intercept nor to stop her. As he offered to ad- 
 vance, she exclaimed, "Remain where thou art, proud 
 Templar, or at thy choice advance ! — one foot nearer, 
 and I plunge myself from the precipice ; my body shall 
 be crushed out of the very form of humanity upon the 
 stones of that courtyard, ere it become the victim of thy 
 brutality ! " --' ; '*-* 
 
 As she spoke this, she clasped her hands and extended 
 them towards heaven, as if imploring mercy on her soul 
 before she made the final plunge. The Templar hesi- 
 tated, and a resolution which had never yielded to pity 
 or distress gave way to his admiration of her fortitude. 
 " Come down," he said, " rash girl ! — I swear by earth, 
 and sea, and sky, I will offer thee no 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 
 honour or the dishonour 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 injury whatsoever ! If not for thyself, yet for 
 thy father's sake forbear ! I will be his friend, and in 
 this castle he will need a powerful one." 
 
 " Alas ! ' said Rebecca, " I know it but too well. Dare 
 I trust thee ? " 
 
IVANHOE. 241 
 
 u May my arms be reversed and my name dishonoured," 
 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 Rebecca, " 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. Remain where thou art, and if thou 
 shalt attempt to diminish by one step the distance now 
 between us, thou shalt see that the Jewish maiden will 
 rather trust her soul with God than her honour to the 
 Templar ! " 
 
 While Rebecca 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 colour of car- 
 nation to her complexion, and a yet more brilliant fire to 
 her eye. Bois-Guilbert, proud himself and high-spirited, 
 thought he had never beheld beauty so animated and 
 commanding. 
 
 " Let there be peace between us, Rebecca," he said. 
 
 " Peace, if thou wilt," answered Rebecca, " peace — 
 but with this space between." 
 
 " Thou needst 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 therefore I have exercised it ; but not upon 
 such as thou. Hear me, Rebecca. — Never did knight 
 take lance in his hand with a heart more devoted to the 
 
242 IVANHOE. 
 
 lady of his love than Brian de Bois-G-uilbert. 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 wherever deeds of arms were done, 
 known wider than that of many a lady's that had a county 
 for a dowry. — Yes," he continued, pacing up and down 
 the little platform, with an animation in which he seemed 
 to lose all consciousness of Rebecca's presence — "yes, 
 my deeds, my danger, my blood made the name of Ade- 
 laide de Montemare known from the court of Castile to 
 that of Byzantium. And how was I requited ? When I 
 returned with my dear-bought honours purchased by toil 
 and blood, I found her wedded to a Gascon squire, whose 
 name was never heard beyond the limits of his own pal- 
 try domain ! Truly did 1 love her, and bitterly did I re- 
 venge me of her broken faith ! But my vengeance has 
 recoiled on myself. Since that day I have separated 
 myself from life and its ties — My manhood must know 
 no domestic home, must be soothed by no affectionate 
 wife — My age must know no kindly hearth — My grave 
 must be solitary, and no offspring must outlive me, to 
 bear the ancient name of 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 Rebecca, " what advantages could com- 
 pensate for such an absolute sacrifice ? " 
 
 " The power of vengeance, Rebecca," replied the Tem- 
 plar, " and the prospects of ambition." 
 
 " An evil recompense," said Rebecca, " for the sur- 
 render of the rights which are dearest to humanity." 
 
 " Say not so, maiden," answered the Templar ; " re- 
 venge 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 
 
IVANHOE. 243 
 
 moment, and then added, " Rebecca ! she who could pre- 
 fer death to dishonour must have a proud and a powerful 
 soul. Mine thou must be ! — Nay, start not," he added, 
 " it must be with thine own consent, and on thine own 
 terms. Thou must consent to share with me hopes more 
 extended than can be viewed from the throne of a mon- 
 arch ! Hear me ere you answer, and judge ere you refuse. 
 The Templar loses, as thou hast said, his social rights, his 
 power of free agency, but he becomes a member and a 
 limb of a mighty body, before which thrones already 
 tremble — even as the single drop of rain which mixes 
 with the sea becomes an individual part of that resistless 
 ocean which undermines rocks and ingulphs royal arma- 
 das. 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 batoon of Grand Master. The poor sol- 
 diers 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 sceptre from their gripe. Not the reign 
 of your vainly-expected Messiah offers such power to your 
 dispersed tribes as my ambition may aim at. I have 
 sought but a kindred spirit to share it, and I have found 
 such in thee." 
 
 " Sayst thou this to one of my people ? " answered 
 Rebecca. " Bethink thee " 
 
 " Answer me not," said the Templar, " by urging the 
 difference of our creeds ; within our secret conclaves we 
 hold these nursery tales in derision. Think not we long 
 remained blind to the idiotical folly of our founders, who 
 forswore every delight of life for the pleasure of dying 
 martyrs by hunger, by thirst, and by pestilence, and by 
 the swords of savages, while they vainly strove to defend 
 a barren desert, valuable only in the eyes of superstition. 
 Our Order soon adopted bolder and wider views, and found 
 out a better indemnification for our sacrifices. Our 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 dedi- 
 
244 IVANHOE. 
 
 cated to ends of which our pious founders little dreamed, 
 and which are equally concealed from such weak spirits 
 as embrace our Order on the ancient principles, and whose 
 superstition makes them our passive tools. But I will 
 not further withdraw the veil of our mysteries. That 
 bugle-sound announces something which may require my 
 presence. Think on what I have said. — Farewell — I 
 do not say forgive me the violence I have threatened, for 
 it was necessary to the display of thy character. Gold 
 can be only known by the application of the touchstone..^ 
 I will soon return, and hold further conference with 
 thee." 
 
 He reentered the turret-chamber, and descended the 
 stair, leaving Rebecca scarcely more terrified at the pros- 
 pect of the death to which she had been so lately ex- 
 posed, 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 continu- 
 ance 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 communir. g 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 Rebecca to wish it recalled. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A damn'd cramp piece of penmanship as ever I saw in my life! 
 
 She Stoops to Conquer. 
 
 When the Templar reached the hall of the castle, he 
 found T)e Bracy already there. " Your love-suit," said 
 De Bracy, "hath, I suppose, been disturbed, like mine, 
 
IVANHOE. 245 
 
 by this obstreperous summons. But you have come later 
 and more reluctantly, and therefore I presume your in- 
 terview has proved more agreeable than mine." 
 
 "Has your suit, then, been unsuccessfully paid to the 
 Saxon heiress ? " said the Templar. 
 
 "By the bones of Thomas 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," re- 
 plied De Bracy ; " but this damsel hath wept enough to 
 extinguish a beacon-light. Never was such wringing of 
 hands and such overflowing of eyes, since the days of St. 
 Niobe, of whom Prior Aymer told us. A water-fiend 
 hath possessed the fair Saxon." 
 
 "A legion of fiends have occupied the bosom of the 
 Jewess," replied the Templar ; " for I think no single 
 one, not even Apollyon himself, could have inspired 
 such indomitable pride and resolution. — But where is 
 Front-de-Boeuf ? That horn is sounded more and more 
 clamorously." 
 
 " He is negotiating with the Jew, I suppose," replied 
 De Bracy, coolly ; " probably the howls of Isaac have 
 drowned the blast of the bugle. Thou mayst know, by 
 experience, Sir Brian, that a Jew parting with his treas- 
 ures on such terms as our friend Front-de-Boeuf is like 
 to offer will raise a clamour 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 tar- 
 ried to give some necessary directions. " Let us see the 
 cause of this cursed clamour," said Front-de-Boeuf ; "here 
 is_a letter, and, if I mistake not, it is in Saxon." 
 
 He looked at it, turning it "round and round as if he 
 had had really some hopes of coming at the meaning by 
 
246 IVANHGE. 
 
 inverting the position of the paper, and tnen handed it 
 to De Bracy. 
 
 " It may be magic spells for aught I know," said De 
 Bracy, who possessed his full proportion of the igno- 
 rance which characterised 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 valour." 
 
 " Let us profit by your most reverend knowledge, 
 then," said De Bracy ; " what says the scroll ? " 
 
 " It is a formal letter of defiance," answered the 
 Templar; "but, by our Lady of Bethlehem, if it be not 
 a foolish jest, it is the most extraordinary cartel that 
 ever was sent across the drawbridge of a baronial castle." 
 
 "Jest! "said Front-de-Boeuf, "I would gladly know 
 who dares jest with me in such a matter. — Read it, Sir 
 Brian." 
 
 The Templar accordingly read it as follows : 
 
 "I, Wamba, the son of Witless, jester to a noble and freeborn 
 man, Cedric of Rotherwood, called the Saxon : and I, Gurth, the 
 son of Beowulph, the swineherd " 
 
 " Thou art mad," said Front-de-Boeuf, 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 assistance of our allies and confederates, who make com- 
 mon cause with us in this our feud, namely, the good knight, called 
 for the present Le Noir Faineant, and the stout yeoman, Robert 
 Locksley, called Cleave-the-Wand, to you, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf , 
 and your allies and accomplices whomsoever, to wit, that whereas 
 you have, without cause given or feud declared, wrongfully and 
 by mastery seized upon the person of our lord and master the said 
 Cedric ; also upon the person of a noble and freeborn damsel, the 
 Lady Rowena of Hargottstandstede ; also upon the person of a 
 noble and freeborn man, Athelstane of Coninusburgh ; also upon 
 the persons of certain freeborn men, their cnichts ; also upon cer- 
 
IVANHOE. 247 
 
 tain serfs, their born 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 before- 
 said, were all in peace with his Majesty, and travelling as liege 
 subjects upon the king's highway ; therefore we require and demand 
 that the said noble persons, namely, Cedric of Rotherwood, Rowena 
 of Hargottstandstede, Athelstane of Coningsburgh, with their ser- 
 vants, cnichts, and followers, also the horses and mules, Jew and 
 Jewess aforesaid, together with all goods and chattels to them per- 
 taining, be, within an hour after the delivery hereof, delivered to us, 
 or to those whom we shall appoint to receive the same, and that un- 
 touched and unharmed in body and goods. Failing of which, we 
 do pronounce to you, that we hold ye as robbers and traitors, and 
 will wager our bodies against ye in battle, siege, or otherwise, and 
 do our utmost to your annoyance and destruction. Wherefore 
 may God have you in His keeping. — Signed by us upon the eve of 
 St. Withold's day, under the great trysting oak in the Harthill 
 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, w r itli 
 a legend expressing this hieroglyphic to be the sign- 
 manual of AYamba, son of Witless. Under this respec- 
 t"it>le emblem stood a cross, stated to be the mark of 
 Gurth, the son of Beownlph. Then was w r ritten, in 
 rough bold characters, the words Le Noir Faineant. 
 And, to conclude the whole, an arrow, neatly enough 
 drawn, w T as 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, a,s 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. 
 Front-de-Boeuf, on the contrary, seemed impatient of 
 their ill-timed jocularity.- 
 
 " I give you plain warning," he said, " fair sirs, that 
 you had better consult how to bear yourselves under 
 these circumstances than give way to such misplaced 
 merriment." 
 
 " Front-de-Boeuf has not recovered his temper since his 
 
248 IVANHOE. 
 
 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-Bceuf, " 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 supported 
 by some strong bands. There are enough of outlaws in 
 this forest to resent my protecting the deer. I did but 
 tie one fellow, who was taken red-handed and in the fact, 
 to the horns of a wild stag, which gored him to death in 
 five minutes, and I had as many arrows shot at me as there 
 were launched against yonder target at Ashby. — Here, 
 fellow," he added, to one of his attendants, "hast thou 
 sent out to see by what force this precious challenge is to 
 be supported ? " 
 
 " There are at least two hundred men assembled in the 
 woods," answered the squire who was in attendance. 
 
 " Here is a proper matter ! " said Front-de-Bceuf ; " this 
 comes of lending you the use of my castle, that cannot 
 manage your undertaking quietly, but you must bring this 
 nest of hornets about my ears ! " 
 
 " Of hornets ! " said De Bracy ; " of stingless drones 
 rather ; a band of lazy knaves, who take to the wood and 
 destroy the venison rather than labour for their mainte- 
 nance ! " 
 
 "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 
 
IVANHOE. 249 
 
 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 engaged 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-Boeuf. " These 
 outlaws have indeed a daring captain ; but without ma- 
 chines, scaling ladders, and experienced leaders, my castle 
 may defy them." 
 
 " Send to thy neighbours," 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 baro- 
 nial castle of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf ! " 
 
 "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- 
 Boeuf ; " they will beset every path, and rip the errand out 
 of his bosom. — I have it," he added, after pausing for a 
 moment. " Sir Templar, thou canst write as well as read, 
 and if we can but find the writing materials of my chaplain, 
 who died a twelvemonth since in the midst of his Christ- 
 mas carousals 
 
 " So please ye," said the squire, who was still in attend- 
 ance, " I think old Urfried has them somewhere in keep- 
 ing, 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-Boeuf ; 
 " and then, Sir Templar, thou shalt return an answer to 
 this bold challenge." 
 
 " T would rather do it at the sword's point than at that 
 of the pen," said Bois-Guilbert ; " but be it as you will." 
 
250 IV AN HOE. 
 
 He sat down accordingly, and indicted, in the French 
 language, an epistle of the following tenor : 
 
 " Sir Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, 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 honours 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 con- 
 fession and reconcile them with God ; since it is our fixed intention 
 to execute them this morning before noon, so that their heads, 
 being placed on the battlements, shall show to all men how lightly 
 we esteem those who have bestirred themselves in their rescue. 
 Wherefore, as above, we require you to send a priest to reconcile 
 them to God, in doing which you shall render them the last earthly 
 service." 
 
 This letter, being folded, was delivered to the squire, 
 and by him to the messenger who waited without, as the 
 answer to that which he had brought. 
 
 The yeoman, having thus accomplished his mission, 
 returned to the headquarters of the allies, which were for 
 the present established under a venerable oak tree, about 
 three arrow-flights distant from the castle. Here Wamba 
 and Grurth, with their allies the Black Knight and Locks- 
 ley, and the jovial hermit, awaited with impatience an 
 answer to their summons. Around, and at a distance 
 from them, were seen many a bold yeoman, whose silvan 
 dress and weatherbeaten countenances showed the ordi- 
 nary 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 distin- 
 guished from the others by a feather in the cap, their 
 dress, arms, and equipments being in all other respects 
 the same. 
 
 Besides these bands, a less orderly and a worse-armed 
 force, consisting of the Saxon inhabitants of the neigh- 
 bouring township, as well as many bondsmen and ser- 
 vants 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 
 
IVAN HOE. 251 
 
 necessity 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 cir- 
 cumstances rendered the assistance of the Saxons far 
 from being so formidable to the besieged as the strength 
 of the men themselves, their superior numbers, and the 
 animation inspired by a just cause, might otherwise well 
 have made them. It was to the leaders of this motley 
 army that the letter of the Templar was now delivered. 
 
 Reference was at first made to the chaplain for an ex- 
 position of its contents. 
 
 " By the crook of St. Dunstan," said that worthy eccle- 
 siastic, " which hath brought more sheep within the sheep- 
 fold 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 Grurth, 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 brave yeoman ; " but as the matter stands, the 
 meaning is as safe, for me, as the stag that's at twelve 
 miles' distance." 
 
 " 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 ! " 
 
252 IVANHOE. 
 
 "We have nothing else to tear it with," replied 
 Wamba; "but mine are scarce tit 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 pious 
 hermit ; " I tell thee, Sir Slothful Knight, that when I 
 doif 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 ven- 
 ture which wise men shrink from. You must know, my 
 dear cousins and countrymen, that I wore russet before 
 I wore motley, and was bred to be a friar, until a brain- 
 fever came upon me and left me just enough wit to be a 
 fool. I trust, with the assistance of the good hermit's 
 frock, together with the priesthood, sanctity, and learn- 
 ing which are stitched into the cowl of it, I shall be found 
 qualified to administer both worldly and ghostly comfort 
 to our worthy master Cedric and his companions in ad- 
 versity." 
 
 "Hath he sense enough, thinkst 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 
 
 
IVANHOE. 253 
 
 Knight, "and let thy master send us an account of 
 their situation within the castle. Their numbers must 
 be few, and it is rive 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 be- 
 set the place so closely that not so much as a fly shall 
 carry news from thence. So that, my good friend," he 
 continued, addressing Wamba, " thou mayst assure these 
 tyrants that whatever violence they exercise on the per- 
 sons of their prisoners shall be most severely repaid upon 
 their own." 
 
 "Pax vobiscum" said Wamba, who was now muffled 
 in his religious disguise. 
 
 And so saying, he imitated the solemn and stately de- 
 portment of a friar, and departed to execute his mission. 
 
 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 round his 
 middle, stood before the portal of the castle of Front- 
 de-Bceuf, 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." 
 
254 IVAN HOE. 
 
 " Gramercy," said the warder ; " but if I come to shame 
 for leaving my post upon thine errand, I will try whether 
 a friar's grey gown be proof against a grey-goose shaft." 
 
 With this threat he left his turret, and carried to the 
 hall of the castle his unwonted intelligence, that a holy 
 friar stood before the gate and demanded instant admis- 
 sion. With no small wonder he received his master's 
 commands to admit the holy man immediately; and, 
 having previously manned the entrance to guard against 
 surprise, he obeyed, without further scruple, the com- 
 mands which he had received. The hairbrained 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 dread- 
 ful, and so much dreaded, as Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, 
 and he brought out his Pax vobiscum, to which he, in a 
 good measure, trusted for supporting his character, with 
 more anxiety and hesitation than had hitherto accom- 
 panied it. But Front-de-Boeuf was accustomed to see 
 men of all ranks tremble in his presence, so that the 
 timidity of the supposed father did not give him any 
 cause of suspicion. " Who and whence art thou, priest ? n 
 said he. 
 
 "Pax vobiscum," reiterated the Jester ; " I am a poor 
 servant of St. Francis, who, travelling through this wil- 
 derness, 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 honourable 
 justice." 
 
 " Ay, right," answered Front-de-Boeuf ; " 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 con- 
 ceive they may be, what of yeomen, what of commons, 
 at least rive hundred men." 
 
IVANHOE. 255 
 
 " 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-Boeuf ; " 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 in- 
 stantly 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 
 apartment where Cedric and Athelstane were confined. 
 
 The impatience of Cedric had been rather enhanced 
 than diminished by his confinement. He walked from 
 one end of the hall to the other, with the attitude of one 
 who advances to charge an enemy, or to storm the breach 
 of a beleaguered place, sometimes ejaculating to himself, 
 sometimes addressing Athelstane, who stoutly and stoi- 
 cally 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 vobiscum" said the Jester, entering the apart- 
 ment; "the blessing of St. Dunstan, St. Denis, St. Du- 
 thoc, 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. "Fear- 
 less and wicked as they are, they dare not attempt such 
 open and gratuitous cruelty ! " 
 
 " Alas ! " said the Jester, " to restrain them by their 
 
256 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 live 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, unto 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 advice formerly, you would not have been here at 
 all. Take a fool's advice now, and you will not be here 
 long." 
 
 " How mean'st thou, knave ? " answered the Saxon. 
 
 "Even thus," replied Wamba; "take thou this frock 
 and cord, which are all the orders I ever had, and march 
 quietly out of the castle, leaving me your cloak and 
 girdle to take the long leap in thy stead." 
 
 "Leave thee in my 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 ex- 
 change 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 son of 
 Witless should suffer to save the son of Here ward; but 
 
IVANHOE. 257 
 
 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, 
 good my master, either take my proffer yourself or suffer 
 me to leave this dungeon as free as I entered." 
 
 "Let the old tree wither," continued Cedric, "so the 
 stately hope of the forest be preserved. Save the noble 
 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 our 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 the prisoner's measure of water, than embrace the 
 opportunity 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 farther. I am like 
 John-a-Duck 's mare, that will let no man mount her but 
 John-a-Duck. I came to save my master, and if he will 
 not consent, 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 '11 hang for no man but my 
 own born master." 
 
 "Go, then, noble Cedric," said Athelstane, "neglect not 
 this opportunity. Your presence without may encourage 
 friends to our rescue; your remaining here would ruin us 
 all." 
 
 "And is there any prospect, then, of rescue from with 
 out ? " said Cedric, looking to the Jester, 
 s 
 
258 IVAN-HOE. 
 
 "Prospect, indeed!" echoed Wamba; "let me tell you, 
 when you fill my cloak, you are wrapped in a general's 
 cassock. 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 valour 
 what they may gain in discretion. And so farewell, 
 master, and be kinchto poor G-urth and his dog Fangs; 
 and let my/cockscomb hang in the hall at Rotherwood, in 
 memory that t-fiung away my life for my master, like a 
 faitrlful — fool." "The last word came out with a sort, of 
 doable expression, betwixt jest and earnest. 
 
 The tears stood in Cedric's eyes. " Thy memory shall 
 be preserved," he said, " while fidelity and affection have 
 honour upon earth! But that I trust I shall find the 
 means of saving Rowena, 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 
 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, Pa>x vobiscum carries you through 
 it all. It is as useful to a friar as a broomstick to a witch, 
 or a wand to a conjurer. Speak it but thus, in a deep 
 grave tone — 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 
 remember the password. — 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 
 
IVANHOE. 259 
 
 not be spilt while mine beats in my veins ; nor shall one 
 hair fall from the head of the kind knave who risked 
 himseli for his master, if Cedric's peril can prevent it. — 
 Farewell." 
 
 "Farewell, noble Cedrie," said Athelstane; "remember, 
 it is the trne part of a friar to accept refreshment, if you 
 are offered any." 
 
 " Farewell, uncle," added Wamba ; " and remember Pax 
 vobiscum. " 
 
 Thus exhorted, Cedrie 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 omnip- 
 otent. In a low-arched and dusky passage, by which he 
 endeavoured to work his way to the hall of the castle, 
 he was interrupted by a female form. 
 
 "Pax vobiscum!" said the pseudo friar, and was en- 
 deavouring to hurry past, when a soft voice replied, " Et 
 vobis; quaiso, domine reverendissime, pro misericordia 
 vestro," 
 
 " I am somewhat deaf, " replied Cedrie, 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 
 now addressed Cedrie knew full well. 
 
 "I pray you of dear love, reverend father," she replied 
 in his own language, "that you will deign to visi" 1 " 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 ad- 
 vantage thy convent." 
 
 " Daughter," answered Cedrie, 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 succour." 
 
 " May the fiend fly away with me, and leave me in Ifrin 
 
260 IVANHOE. 
 
 with the souls of Odin and of Thor ! " answered Cedric, im- 
 patiently, and would probably have proceeded in the same 
 tone of total departure from his spiritual character, when 
 the colloquy was interrupted by the harsh vcuce of Urf ried, 
 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 in- 
 formation to get clear of their interruption. "Let me 
 pass, woman ! stop me not at your peril. I am fresh from 
 my holy office, and would avoid pollution." 
 
 "Come this way, father," said the old hag, "thou art a 
 stranger in this castle, and canst not leave it without a 
 guide. Come thither, 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 ! " 
 
 Rebecca retreated. Her importunities had prevailed 
 upon Urf ried 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 
 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 
 favour of the prisoners ; with what imperfect success the 
 reader has been just acquainted. 
 
IVANHOE. 261 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Fond wretch ! 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. 
 
 Crabbe's Hall of Justice. 
 
 When Urfried had with clamours and menaces driven 
 Rebecca back to the apartment from which she had sallied, 
 she proceeded to conduct the unwilling Cedric into a 
 small apartment, the door of which she needfully 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 de- 
 graded 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 freeman. — 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 out- 
 cast and oppressed children of the soil." 
 
 " They come not — or if they come, they better love to 
 revel at the boards of their conquerors," answered 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 priests save the de- 
 bauched Norman chaplain who partook the nightly revels 
 of Front-de-Bceuf, and he has been long gone to render 
 an account of his stewardship. — But thou art a Saxon 
 > — a Saxon priest, and I have one question to ask of thee." 
 
262 IVANHOE. 
 
 "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 nearest now will soon be choked with 
 the cold earth, and I would not descend to it like the 
 beast I have lived. But wine must give me strength to 
 tell the horrors of my tale." She poured out a cup, and 
 drank it with a frightful avidity, which seemed desirous 
 of draining the last drop in the goblet. " It stupefies," 
 she said, looking upwards as she finished her draught, 
 "but it cannot cheer. Partake it, father, if you would 
 hear my tale without sinking down upon the pavement." 
 Cedric would have avoided pledging her in this ominous 
 conviviality, but the sign which she made to him ex- 
 pressed 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 
 complaisance. 
 
 " I was not born," she said, " father, the wretch that 
 thou now seest me. I was free, was happy, was hon- 
 oured, loved, and was beloved. I am now a slave, 
 miserable and degraded, the sport of my masters' pas- 
 sions while I had yet beauty, the object of their contempt, 
 scorn, and hatred, since it has passed away. Dost thou 
 wonder, father, that I should hate mankind, and, above 
 all, the race that has wrought this change in me ? Can 
 the wrinkled decrepit hag before thee, whose wrath must 
 vent itself in impotent curses, forget she was once the 
 daughter of the noble thane of Torquil stone, 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 Here- 
 ward of Rotherwood had but one son, whose name is well 
 known among his countrymen. But if thou art Cedric of 
 
IVANHOE. 263 
 
 Rotherwood, why this religious dress ? — hast thou, too, 
 despaired of saving thy country, and sought refuge from 
 oppression in the shade of the convent ? " 
 
 " It matters not who I am," said Cedric ; " proceed, un- 
 happy woman, with thy tale of horror and guilt ! Guilt 
 there must be — there is guilt even in thy living to tell it." 
 
 "There is — there is," answered the wretched woman, 
 " deep, black, damning guilt — guilt that lies like a load 
 at my . breast — guilt that all the penitential fires of 
 hereafter cannot cleanse. Yes, in these halls, stained 
 with the noble and pure blood of my father and my breth- 
 ren — in these very halls, to have lived the paramour of 
 their murderer, the slave at once and the partaker of his 
 pleasures, was to render every breath which I drew of 
 vital air, a crime and a curse." 
 
 " Wretched woman ! " exclaimed Cedric. " And while 
 the friends of thy father — while each true Saxon heart, 
 as it breathed a requiem for his soul, and those of his 
 valiant sons, forgot not in their prayers the murdered 
 Ulrica — while all mourned and honoured 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 AVolfganger 
 should survive — with him thou hast lived to unite thy- 
 self, 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-Boeuf and his race governed my soul most deeply, 
 even in the hour of his guilty endearments." 
 
 " You hated him, and yet you lived," replied Cedric ; 
 " wretch ! was there no poniard — no knife — no bodkin ! 
 Well was it for thee, since thou didst prize such an 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 ! 
 
 v 
 
264 IVANHOE. 
 
 "Wouldst thou indeed have done this justice to the 
 name of Torquil ? " said Ulrica, for we may now lay 
 aside her assumed name of Urf ried ; " thou art then the 
 true Saxon report speaks thee ! for even within these 
 accursed walls, where, as thou well sayest, guilt shrouds 
 itself in inscrutable mystery — even there has the name 
 of Cedric been sounded — and I, wretched and degraded, 
 have rejoiced to think that there yet breathed an avenger 
 of our unhappy nation. I also have had my hours of 
 vengeance — I have fomented the quarrels of our foes, and 
 heated drunken revelry into murderous broil, — I have 
 seen their blood flow — I have heard their dying groans ! 
 Look on me, Cedric ; are there not still left on this foul 
 and faded face some traces of the features of Torquil ? " 
 
 " Ask me not of them, 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 wore 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 
 Reginald ! The darkness of hell should hide what fol- 
 lowed, but revenge must lift the veil, and darkly inti- 
 mate what it would raise the dead to speak aloud. Long 
 had the smouldering fire of discord glowed between the 
 tyrant father and his savage son — long had I nursed, in 
 secret, the unnatural hatred ; it blazed forth in an hour 
 of drunken wassail, and at his own board fell my op- 
 pressor 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 conscious of the hideous mystery ! " 
 
 " And thou, creature of guilt and misery," said Cedric, 
 " what became thy lot on the death of thy ravisher ? ' 
 
 " Guess it, but ask it not. Here — here I dwelt, till 
 age, premature age, has stamped its ghastly features on 
 my countenance — scorned and insulted where I was 
 once obeyed, and compelled to bound the revenge which 
 had once such ample scope to the efforts of petty malice 
 of a discontented menial, or the vain or unheeded curses 
 
IVANIIOE. 265 
 
 of an impotent hag — condemned to hear from my .onely 
 turret the sounds of revelry in which I once partook, or 
 the shrieks and groans of new victims of oppression." 
 
 " 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 thee to one who wears this robe ? 
 Consider, unhappy woman, what could the sainted Ed- 
 ward himself do for thee, were he here in bodily 
 presence ? The royal Confessor was endowed by 
 Heaven with power to cleanse the ulcers of the body ; 
 but only God Himself can cure the leprosy of the soul." 
 
 " Yet, turn not from me, stern prophet of wrath," she 
 exclaimed, " but tell me, if thou canst, in what shall 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 ? 3 
 
 "I bid thee repent," said Cedric. "Seek to prayer 
 and penance, and mayest 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 
 governed my life should tempt me to avenge myself of 
 thy hard-hearted scorn. Thinkest thou, if Front-de- 
 Boeuf found Cedric the Saxon in his castle, in such a 
 disguise, that thy life would be a long one ? Already 
 his eye has been upon thee like a falcon on his prey." 
 
 "And be it so," said Cedric; "and let him tear me 
 
266 IVANHOE. 
 
 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." 
 
 "Be it so," said Ulrica, no longer interrupting him; 
 " go thy way, and forget, in the insolence of thy superi- 
 ority, that the wretch before thee is the daughter of thy 
 father's friend. Go thy way — if I am separated from 
 mankind by my sufferings — separated from those whose 
 aid I might most justly expect — not less will I be 
 separated from them in my revenge ! No man shall aid 
 me, but the ears of all men shall tingle to hear of the 
 deed which I shall dare to do ! — Farewell ! — thy scorn 
 has burst the last tie which seemed yet to unite me to 
 my kind — a thought that my woes might claim the 
 compassion of my people." 
 
 "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 pleasures, 
 wrinkles have no influence, revenge itself dies away in 
 impotent curses. Then comes remorse, with all its vipers, 
 mixed with vain regrets for the past, and despair for the 
 future ! — Then, when all other strong impulses have 
 ceased, we become like the fiends in hell, who may feel 
 remorse, but never repentance. — But thy words have 
 awakened a new soul within me. — Well hast thou said, 
 all is possible for those who dare to die! Thou hast 
 shown me the means of revenge, and be assured I will 
 embrace them. It has hitherto shared this wasted bosom 
 
IVANHOE. 267 
 
 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 the turret on the eastern angle of the donjon, 
 press the Normans hard — they will then have enough to 
 do within, and you may win the wall in spite both of bow 
 and mangonel. Begone, I pray thee; follow thine own 
 fate, and leave me to mine." 
 
 Cedric would have inquired farther 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 Rollo, if they will ; vengeance shall bear a burden to it." 
 
 As she thus spoke, she vanished through a private door, 
 and Reginald Front-de-Bceuf entered the apartment. 
 Cedric, with some difficulty, compelled himself to make 
 obeisance to the haughty Baron, who returned his cour- 
 tesy 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 
 
268 IVANHOE. 
 
 will soon come that the frock shall protect the Saxon as 
 little as the mail-coat." 
 
 " God's will be clone," 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 
 dismiss thee by the postern." 
 
 And as he strode on his way before the supposed friar, 
 Front-de-Boeuf 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 Cedric, " save on my breviary ; 
 and then I know the characters, because I have the holy 
 service by heart, praised be Our Lady and St. Withold ! " 
 
 " The fitter messenger for my purpose. 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 battlement. — Shame on it, that we 
 should be compelled to hide thus by a pack of runagates, 
 who are wont to fly even at the flash of our pennons and 
 the tramp of our horses ! I say to thee, priest, contrive 
 some cast of thine art to keep the knaves where they 
 are, until our friends bring up their lances. My ven- 
 geance is awake, and she is a falcon that slumbers not 
 till she has been gorged." 
 
 " \\y my patron saint," said Cedric, with deeper energy 
 
IVANHOE. 269 
 
 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 ! " said Front-de-Boeuf , " thou changest thy tone, 
 Sir Priest, and speakest brief and bold, as if thy heart 
 were in the slaughter of the Saxon herd ; and yet thou 
 art thyself of kindred to the swine ? " 
 
 Cedric was no ready practiser of the art of dissimu- 
 lation, 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 in- 
 vention, and he muttered something under his cowl con- 
 cerning the men in question being excommunicated out- 
 laws both to church and to kingdom. 
 
 " Despardieux" answered Front-de-Boeuf, "thou hast 
 spoken the very truth — I forgot that the knaves can 
 strip a fat abbot as well as if they had been born south 
 of yonder salt channel. Was it not he of St. Ives whom 
 they tied to an oak tree, and compelled to sing a mass 
 while they were rifling his mails and his wallets ? — No, 
 by Our Lady, that jest was played by Gualtier of Middle- 
 ton, one of our own companions-at-arms. But they were 
 Saxons who robbed the chapel at St. Bees of cup, candle- 
 stick, 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-Boeuf, in the meanwhile, led the way to a 
 postern, 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, thou shalt see 
 Saxon flesh cheap as ever was hog's in the shambles of 
 Sheffield. And, hark thee, thou seemest to be a jolly 
 
V 
 
 270 IVANHOE. 
 
 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, 
 " Remember, I will flay off both cowl and skin if thou 
 failest in thy purpose." 
 
 " And full leave will I give thee to do both," answered 
 Cedric, leaving the postern, and striding forth over the 
 free field with a joyful step, "if, when we meet next, 
 I deserve not better at thine hand." — Turning then 
 back towards the castle, he threw the piece of gold 
 towards the donor, exclaiming at the same time, " False 
 Norman, thy money perish with thee ! " 
 
 Front-de-Boeuf heard the words imperfectly, but the 
 action was suspicious. "Archers," he called to the 
 warders on the outward battlements; "send me an 
 arrow through yon monk 's frock ! — Yet stay," he said, 
 as his retainers were bending their bows, " it avails not 
 — we must thus far trust him since we have no better 
 shift. I think he dares not betray me ; at the worst I 
 can but treat with these Saxon dogs whom I have safe 
 in kennel. Ho ! Giles jailor, let them bring Cedric of 
 Eotherwood before me, and the other churl, his com- 
 panion — him I mean pf Coningsburgh — Athelstane 
 there, or what call they him? Their very names are an 
 encumbrance to a Norman knight's mouth, and have, as 
 it were, a flavour of bacon. Give me a stoup of wine, as 
 jolly Prince John said, that I may wash away the relish; 
 place it in the armoury, and thither lead the prisoners." 
 
 His commands were obeyed; and upon entering that 
 Gothic apartment, hung with many spoils won by his 
 own valour and that of his father, he found a flagon of 
 wine on the massive oaken table, and the two Saxon 
 captives under the guard of four of his 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, 
 
IVANHOE. 271 
 
 the gloomy and broken light, and the Baron 's imperfect 
 acquaintance with the features of Cedric, who avoided 
 his Norman neighbours, and seldom stirred beyond his 
 own domains, prevented him from discovering that the 
 most important of his captives had made his escape. 
 
 " Gallants of England," said Front-de-Boeuf, " 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 ye forgotten how ye requited the 
 unmerited hospitality of the royal John ? By God and 
 St. Denis, an 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 Rotherwood ? " 
 
 "Not a doit I," answered poor Wamba; "and for 
 hanging up by the feet, my brain has been topsy-turvy, 
 they say, ever since the biggin was bound first round 
 my head ; so turning me upside down may peradventure 
 restore it again." 
 
 " St. Genevieve ! " said Front-de-Boeuf, " 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- 
 Boeuf; "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 sur- 
 
272 IVANHOE. 
 
 render of their pretended immunities, and live under us 
 as serfs and vassals; too happy if, in the new world that 
 is about to begin, we leave them the breath of their nos- 
 trils. — Go," said he to two of his attendants, "fetch me 
 the right Cedric hither, and I pardon your error for 
 once ; the rather that you but mistook a fool for a Saxon 
 franklin." 
 
 "Ay, but," said Wamba, "youv chivalrous excellency 
 will find there are more fools than franklins among 
 us." 
 
 "What means the knave?" said Front-de-Boeuf, look- 
 ing towards his followers, who, lingering and loth, fal- 
 tered 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-Boeuf, " it was then 
 the boar of Rotherwood whom I ushered to the postern, 
 and dismissed with my own hands ! — And thou," he said 
 to Wamba, " whose folly could overreach the wisdom of 
 idiots yet more gross than thyself — I will give thee holy 
 orders — I will shave thy crown for thee ! — Here, let 
 them tear the scalp from his head, and then pitch him 
 headlong from the battlements — Thy trade is to jest, 
 canst thou jest now ? " 
 
 " You deal with me better than your word, noble 
 knight," whimpered forth poor Wamba, whose habits 
 of buffoonery were not to be overcome even by the im- 
 mediate prospect of death ; " if you give me the red cap 
 you propose, out of a simple monk you will make a 
 cardinal." 
 
 " The poor wretch," said De Bracy, " is resolved to die 
 in his vocation. — Front-de-Boeuf, you shall not slay him. 
 Give him to me to make sport for my Free Companions. 
 — How sayst 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, 1 must not slip collar (and he touched that 
 which he wore) without his permission." 
 
IV AN HOE. 273 
 
 " Oh, a Norman saw will soon cut a Saxon collar," said 
 De Bracy. 
 
 " Ay, noble sir," said Wamba, " and thence goes the 
 proverb : 
 
 Norman saw on English oak, 
 
 On English neck a Norman yoke 
 
 Norman spoon in English dish, 
 
 And England ruled as Normans wish ; 
 
 Blythe world to England never will be more, 
 
 Till England's rid of all the four." 
 
 " Thou dost well, De Bracy," said Front-de-Bceuf, " 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 mot- 
 ley gentleman thou art so fond to brother ? What views 
 have we to expect but instant storm ? " 
 
 "To the battlements then," said De Bracy; "when 
 didst thou ever see me the graver for the thoughts of 
 battle ? Call the Templar yonder, and let him fight but 
 half so 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 endeavour 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 
 franklin, who seems in such deep contemplation of the 
 wine-flagon ? — Here, Saxon," he continued, addressing 
 Athelstane, and handing the cup to him, " rinse thy throat 
 with that noble liquor, and rouse up thy soul to say what 
 thou wilt do for thy liberty." 
 
 "What a man of mould may," answered Athelstane, 
 "providing it be what a man of manhood ought. — Dis- 
 miss 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, con- 
 trary to God's peace and the king's ? " said Front-de- 
 Bceuf. 
 
274 IVANHOE. 
 
 "In so far as I can," answered Athelstane, "I will 
 withdraw them ; and I fear not but that my father Cedric 
 will do his best to assist me." 
 
 " We are agreed then," said 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 mod- 
 eration which accepts of it in exchange of your persons. 
 But mark, this extends not to the Jew Isaac." 
 
 " Nor to the Jew Isaac's daughter," said the 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-Boeuf, " 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 iias 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 affi- 
 anced bride of a vassal like thee ! " said De Bracy. 
 " Saxon, thou dreamest that the days of thy seven king- 
 doms are returned again. I tell thee, the princes of the 
 house of Anjou confer not their wards on men of such 
 lineage as thine." 
 
 " My lineage, proud Norman," replied Athelstane, "is 
 drawn from a source more pure and ancient than that of 
 a beggarly Frenchman, whose living is won by selling 
 the blood of the thieves whom he assembles under his 
 paltry standard. Kings were my ancestors, strong in 
 
IVANHOE. 275 
 
 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 Witenagemotes ; 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 re- 
 ceived ; " 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 
 Rowena." 
 
 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-Bceuf, "have we a real monk this 
 time, or another impostor ? Search him, slaves — for an 
 ye suffer a second impostor to be palmed upon you, I will 
 have your eyes torn out, and hot coals put into the 
 sockets." 
 
 " Let me endure the extremity of your anger, my 
 lord," said Giles, " if this be not a real shaveling. Your 
 squire Jocelyn knows him well, and will vouch him to be 
 Brother Ambrose, a monk in attendance upon the Prior 
 of 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. 
 Remove these prisoners ; and, Saxon, think on what thou 
 hast heard." 
 
 " I claim," said Athelstane, " an honourable imprison- 
 ment, with due care of my board and of my couch, as 
 becomes my rank ; and as is due to one who is in treaty 
 
276 IVANHOE. 
 
 for ransom. Moreover, I hold him that deems himself the 
 best of you bound to answer to me with his body for this 
 aggression on my freedom. This defiance hath already 
 been sent to thee by thy sewer; thou underliest it, and 
 art bound to answer me. There lies my glove." 
 
 "I answer not the challenge of my prisoner," said 
 Front-de-Bceuf, " nor shalt thou, Maurice de Bracy. — 
 Giles," he continued, " hang the franklin's glove upon 
 the tine of yonder branched antlers ; there shall it remain 
 until he is a free man. Should he then presume to de- 
 mand it, or to affirm he was unlawfully made my pris- 
 oner, by the belt of St. Christopher, he will speak to one 
 who hath never refused to meet a foe on foot or on horse- 
 back, 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 
 counterfeits." 
 
 " Holy Mother ! " said the monk, as he addressed the 
 assembled knights, " I am at last safe and in Christian 
 keeping ! " 
 
 " Safe thou art," replied De Bracy, " and for Chris- 
 tianity, here is the stout Baron Reginald Froiit-de-Boeuf, 
 whose utter abomination is a Jew ; and the good Knight 
 Templar, Brian de Bois-Gmilbert, 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, with- 
 out 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. Augustin, in his treatise De Civitate 
 Dei " 
 
 " What saith the devil ! " interrupted Front-de-Boeuf ; 
 "or rather what dost thou say, Sir Priest? We have 
 little time to hear texts from the holy fathers." 
 
 " Sancta Maria V ejaculated Father Ambrose, "how 
 prompt to ire are these unhallowed laymen ! But be it 
 
IVANHOE. 277 
 
 known to you, brave knights, that certain murderous 
 caitiffs, casting behind them fear of God and reverence 
 of His church, and not regarding the bull of the holy see, 
 Si quis, suaclente Diabolo " 
 
 " 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, infesters 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, 
 instead 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 you," said Ambrose, " violent hands having 
 been imposed on my reverend superior, contrary to the 
 holy ordinance which I did already quote, and the men 
 of Belial having rifled his mails and budgets, and stripped 
 him of two hundred marks of pure refined gold, they do 
 yet demand of him a large sum beside, ere they will suffer 
 him to depart from their uncircumcised hands. Where- 
 fore 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 
 discretion." 
 
 " The foul fiend quell the Prior ! " said Front-de-Boeuf ; 
 "his morning's draught has been a deep one. When did 
 thy master hear of a Norman baron unbuckling his purse 
 to relieve a churchman, whose bags are ten times as 
 weighty as ours ? — And how can we do aught by valour 
 to free him, that are cooped up here by ten times our 
 number, and expect an assault every moment ? " 
 
 " And that was what I was about to tell you," said the 
 monk, " had your hastiness allowed me time. But, God 
 help me, I am old, and these foul onslaughts distract an 
 a^ed man's brain. Nevertheless, it is of verity that they 
 
278 IVANHOE. 
 
 assemble a camp, and raise a bank against the walls oi 
 this castle." 
 
 " To the battlements ! " cried De Bracy, " and let us 
 mark what these knaves do without " j and so saying, he 
 opened a latticed window which led to a sort of bartizan 
 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 for- 
 ward mantelets and pavisses, and the archers muster on 
 the skirts of the wood like a dark cloud before a hail- 
 storm." 
 
 Reginald Front-de-Boeuf 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 
 succour and relief wherever the attack is hottest. Our 
 numbers are few, but activity and courage may sup- 
 ply 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 prepa- 
 rations 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 Reginald ! ' : 
 
 " 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 these audacious traitors — 
 Look that the cross-bowmen lack not bolts — Fling 
 abroad my banner with the old bull's head — the knaves 
 shall soon find with whom they have to do this day ! " 
 
 " But, noble sir," continued the monk, persevering in 
 his endeavours to draw attention, "consider my vow of 
 
IVANHOE. 279 
 
 obedience, and let me discharge myself of my superior's 
 errand." 
 
 " Away with this prating dotard," said Front-de-Bceuf ; 
 " 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 hon- 
 oured, 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- 
 Boeuf, " unless we were to hurl them from the battlements 
 on the heads of the villains. There is a huge lumbering 
 St. Christopher yonder, sufficient to bear a whole 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 compan- 
 ion. 
 
 " By the faith of mine Order," he said, " these men ap- 
 proach with more touch of discipline than could have 
 been judged, however they come by it. See ye how dex- 
 terously 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 pen- 
 non among them, and yet will I gage my golden chain 
 that they are led on by 'some noble knight or gentleman, 
 skilful in the practice of wars." 
 
 " I espy him," said De Bracy ; " I see the waving of a 
 knight's crest, and the gleam of his armour. See yon tall 
 man in the black mail, who is busied marshalling the 
 farther troop of the rascaille yeomen — by St. Denis, 
 I hold him to be the same whom we called Le Noir 
 Faineant, who overthrew thee, Front-de-Bceuf, in the lists 
 at Ashby." 
 
 "So much the better," said Front-de-Bceuf, "that he 
 comes here to give me my revenge. Some hilding fellow 
 he must be, who dared not stay to assert his claim to the 
 tourney prize which chance had assigned him. I should 
 in vain have sought for him where knights and nobles 
 
280 IVANHOE. 
 
 seek their foes, and right glad am I he hath here shown 
 himself among yon villain yeomanry." 
 
 The demonstrations of the enemy's immediate approach 
 cut off all farther 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. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The 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 undreamt-of powers when gather'd by them. 
 
 The Jew. 
 
 Our history must needs retrograde for the space of a 
 few pages, to inform the reader of certain passages ma- 
 terial to his understanding the rest of this important 
 narrative. His own intelligence may indeed have easily 
 anticipated that, when Ivanhoe sunk down, and seemed 
 abandoned by all the world, it was the importunity of 
 Rebecca which prevailed, on her father to have the gal- 
 lant young warrior transported from the lists to the 
 house which, for the time, the Jews inhabited in the 
 suburbs of Ashby. 
 
 It would not have been difficult to have persuaded 
 Isaac to this step in any other circumstances, for his 
 disposition was kind and grateful. But he had also the 
 prejudices and scrupulous timidity of his persecuted 
 people, and those were to be conquered. 
 
 " Holy Abraham ! " he exclaimed, " he is a good youth, 
 and my heart bleeds to see the gore trickle down his 
 rich embroidered hacqueton, and his corslet of goodly 
 price — but to carry him to our house ! — damsel, hast 
 thou well considered ? He is a Christian, and by our 
 
IVANHOE. 281 
 
 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 be- 
 cometh the Jew's brother." 
 
 " I would I knew what the Rabbi Jacob ben Tudela 
 would opine on it," replied Isaac; "nevertheless, the 
 good youth must not bleed to death. Let Seth and 
 Reuben bear him to Ashby." 
 
 " Nay, let 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 sus- 
 picious glance towards the crowd of knights and squires. 
 But Rebecca was already busied in carrying her chari- 
 table purpose into effect, and listed not w^hat he said, 
 until Isaac, seizing the sleeve of her mantle, again ex- 
 claimed, 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, " it grieveth me 
 as much to see the drops of his 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 skilful in the art of healing, and that thou 
 knowest the craft of herbs and the force of elixirs. 
 Therefore, do as thy mind giveth thee — thou art a good 
 damsel, a blessing, and a crown, and a song of rejoicing, 
 unto me and unto my house, and unto the people of my 
 fathers." 
 
 The apprehensions of Isaac, however, were not ill 
 founded ; and the generous and grateful benevolence of 
 his daughter exposed her, on her return to Ashby, to 
 
282 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 admi- 
 ration which her charms excited, when accident threw 
 her into the power of that unprincipled voluptuary. 
 
 Eebecca lost no time in causing the patient to be 
 transported to their temporary dwelling, and proceeded 
 with her own hands to examine and to bind up his 
 wounds. The youngest reader of romances and romantic 
 ballads must recollect how often the females during 
 the dark ages, as they are called, were initiated into the 
 mysteries of surgery, and how frequently the gallant knight 
 submitted the wounds of his person to her cure whose eyes 
 had yet more deeply penetrated his heart. 
 
 But the Jews, both male and female, possessed and 
 practised the medical science in all its branches, and the 
 monarchs and powerful barons of the time frequently 
 committed themselves to the charge of some experienced 
 sage among this despised people, when wounded or in sick- 
 ness. 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 ha- 
 tred with which their nation was regarded, while it di- 
 minished the contempt with which that malevolence was 
 mingled. A Jewish magician might be the subject of 
 equal abhorrence with a Jewish usurer, but he could not 
 be equally despised. It is, besides, probable, considering 
 the wonderful cures they are said to have performed, that 
 the Jews possessed some secrets of the healing art pe- 
 culiar to themselves, and which, with the exclusive spirit 
 arising out of their condition, they took great care to 
 conceal from the Christians amongst whom they dwelt. 
 
 The beautiful Rebecca had been needfully brought up 
 in all the knowledge proper to her nation, which her apt 
 
IVANHOE. 283 
 
 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 medi- 
 cine 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 be- 
 lieved 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 
 mentioned in the sacred history. Her father himself, out 
 of reverence for her talents, which involuntarily mingled 
 itself with his unbounded affection, permitted the maiden 
 a greater liberty than was usually indulged to those of 
 her sex by the habits of her people, and was, as we have 
 just seen, frequently guided by her opinion, even in pref- 
 erence to his own. 
 
 When Ivanhoe reached the habitation of Isaac, he was 
 still in a state of unconsciousness, owing to the profuse 
 loss of blood which had taken place during his exertions 
 in the lists. Rebecca examined the wound, and having 
 applied to it such vulnerary remedies as her art prescribed, 
 informed her father that if fever could be averted, of which 
 the great bleeding rendered her little apprehensive, and if 
 the healing balsam of Miriam retained its virtue, there 
 was nothing to fear for his guest's life, and that he might 
 with safety travel to York with them on the ensuing day. 
 Isaac looked a little blank at this annunciation. His char- 
 ity 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 ex- 
 penses should be duly discharged. To this, however, Re- 
 becca opposed many reasons, of which we shall only men- 
 tion two that had peculiar weight with Isaac. The one 
 was, that she would on no account put the phial of pre- 
 
284 IVANHOE. 
 
 cious 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 favourite of Richard Coeur-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 favour. 
 
 " Thou art speaking but sooth, Rebecca," said Isaac, giv- 
 ing way to these weighty arguments — " it were an offend- 
 ing of Heaven to betray the secrets of the blessed Miriam ; 
 for the good which Heaven giveth is not rashly to be squan- 
 dered upon others, whether it be talents of gold and shek- 
 els of silver, or whether it be the secret mysteries of a wise 
 physician — assuredly they should be preserved to those to 
 whom Providence hath vouchsafed them. And him whom 
 the Nazarenes of England call the Lion's Heart — assur- 
 edly it were better for me to fall into the hands of a 
 strong lion of Idumea than into his, if he shall have got 
 assurance of my dealing with his brother. Wherefore I 
 will lend ear to thy counsel, and this youth shall journey 
 with us unto York, and our house shall be as a home to 
 him until his wounds shall be healed. And if he of the 
 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 defence, when the king's displeasure shall burn high 
 against thy father. And t if he doth not return, this Wil- 
 fred 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 succoureth the 
 Israelite, even the child of my father's house, when he is 
 encompassed by strong thieves and sons of Belial." 
 
 It was not until evening was nearly closed that Ivan- 
 hoe was restored to consciousness of his situation. He 
 awoke from a broken slumber, under the confused im- 
 pressions 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 
 
IVAN HOE. 285 
 
 had preceded his fall in the lists, or to make out any 
 connected chain of the events in which he had been 
 engaged upon the yesterday. A sense of wounds and 
 injury, joined to great weakness and exhaustion, was 
 mingled with the recollection of blows dealt and received, 
 of steeds rushing upon each other, overthrowing and 
 overthrown, of shouts and clashing of arms, and all the 
 heavy tumult of a confused fight. An effort to draw 
 aside the curtain of his couch was in some degree success- 
 ful, although rendered difficult by the pain of his wound. 
 
 To his great surprise, he found himself in a room 
 magnificently furnished, but having cushions instead of 
 chairs to rest upon, and in other respects partaking so 
 much of Oriental costume that he began to doubt whether 
 he had not, during his sleep, been transported back again 
 to the land of Palestine. The impression was increased 
 when, the tapestry being drawn aside, a female form, 
 dressed in a rich habit, which partook more of the East- 
 ern taste than that of Europe, glided through the door 
 which it concealed, and was followed by a swarthy 
 domestic. 
 
 As the wounded knight was about to address this fair 
 apparition, she imposed silence by placing her slender 
 finger upon her ruby lips, while the attendant, approach- 
 ing him, proceeded to uncover Ivanhoe's side, and the 
 lovely Jewess satisfied herself that the bandage was in 
 its place, and the wound doing well. She performed 
 her task with a graceful and dignified simplicity and 
 modesty, which might, even in more civilised days, have 
 served to redeem it from whatever might seem repug- 
 nant to female delicacy. The idea of so young and 
 beautiful a person engaged in attendance on a sick-bed, 
 or in dressing the wound of one of a different sex, was 
 melted away and lost in that of a beneficent being con- 
 tributing 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 
 
286 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 pro- 
 nounced by some beneficent fairy, unintelligible, indeed, 
 to the ear, but from the sweetness of utterance and be- 
 nignity of aspect which accompanied them, touching and 
 affecting to the heart. Without making an attempt at 
 further question, Ivanhoe suffered them in silence to 
 take the measures they thought most proper for his 
 recovery ; and it was not until those were completed, 
 and this kind physician about to retire, that his curi- 
 osity could no longer be suppressed. " Gentle maiden," 
 he began in the Arabian tongue, with which his Eastern 
 travels had rendered him familiar, and which he thought 
 most likely to be understood by the turbaned and caf- 
 taned damsel who stood before him, " I pray you, gentle 
 maiden, of your courtesy " 
 
 But here he was interrupted by his fair physician, 
 a smile which she could scarce suppress dimpling for an 
 instant a face whose general expression was that of con- 
 templative melancholy. " I am of England, Sir Knight, 
 and speak the English tongue, although my dress and 
 my lineage belong to another climate." 
 
 " Noble damsel " again the Knight of Ivanhoe 
 
 began, and again Rebecca hastened to interrupt him. 
 
 " Bestow not on me, Sir Knight," she said, " the epi- 
 thet of noble. It is well you should speedily know 
 that your handmaiden is a poor Jewess, the daughter 
 of that Isaac of York to whom you were so lately a good 
 and kind lord. It well becomes him and those of his 
 household to render to you such careful tendance as your 
 present state necessarily demands." 
 
 I know not whether the fair Rowena would have been 
 altogether satisfied with the species of emotion with 
 which her devoted knight had hitherto gazed on the 
 beautiful features, and fair form, and lustrous eyes of 
 the lovely Rebecca — eyes whose brilliancy was shaded, 
 and, as it were, mellowed, by the fringe of her long silken 
 eyelashes, and which a minstrel would have compared 
 to the evening star darting its rays through a bower of 
 
IVANHOE. 287 
 
 jessamine. But Ivanhoe was too good a Catholic to 
 retain the same class of feelings towards a Jewess. 
 This Rebecca had foreseen, and for this very purpose 
 she had hastened to mention her father's name and line- 
 age ; yet — for the fair and wise daughter of Isaac was 
 not without a touch of female weakness — she could not 
 but sigh internally when the glance of respectful admira- 
 tion, not altogether unmixed with tenderness, with which 
 Ivanhoe had hitherto regarded his unknown benefactress, 
 was exchanged at once for a manner cold, composed, and 
 collected, and fraught with no deeper feeling than that 
 which expressed a grateful sense of courtesy received 
 from an unexpected quarter, and from one of an inferior 
 race. It was not that Ivanhoe's former carriage expressed 
 more than that general devotional homage which youth 
 always pays to beauty ; yet it was mortifying that one 
 word should operate as a spell to remove poor Rebecca, 
 who could not be supposed altogether ignorant of her 
 title to such homage, into a degraded class, to whom it 
 could not be honourably rendered. 
 
 But the gentleness and candour of Rebecca's nature 
 imputed no fault to Ivanhoe for sharing in the universal 
 prejudices of his age and religion. On the contrary, 
 the fair Jewess, though sensible her patient now regarded 
 her as one of a race of reprobation, with whom it was 
 disgraceful to hold any beyond the most necessary inter- 
 course, 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 
 farther trouble to his benefactors. 
 
 " Was there not," he said, " in Ashby, or near it, some 
 Saxon franklin, or even some wealthy peasant, who 
 would endure the burden of a wounded countryman's 
 residence with him until he should be again able to bear 
 his armour? — was there no convent of Saxon endow- 
 ment where he could be received ? — or could he not be 
 
© 
 
 288 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 ? " 
 
 il - Any, the worst of these harbourages," said Rebecca, 
 with a melancholy smile, " would unquestionably be 
 more fitting for your residence than the abode of a de- 
 spised 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 own 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 Rebecca. 
 
 " By Our Blessed Lady," said Wilfred, " if it be not a 
 sin to name her here, it is no time for me or any true 
 knight to be bedridden ; and if thou accomplish thy prom- 
 ise, 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 armour on the eighth day from 
 hence, if thou wilt grant me but one boon in the stead of 
 the silver thou dost promise me." 
 
 " If it be within my power, and such as a true Christian 
 knight may yield to one of thy people," replied Ivanhoe, 
 " I will grant thy boon blythely and thankfully." _ 
 
 { " Nay," answered Rebecca, " I will but pray of thee to 
 believe henceforward that a Jew may do good service to 
 a Christian, without desiring other guerdon than the. 
 blessing of the Great Father who made both Jew and 
 Gentile." 
 
 "It were sin to doubt it, maiden," replied Ivanhoe; J 
 " and I repose myself on thy skill without further scruple * 
 or question, well trusting you will enable me to bear my 
 
IV AN HOE. 289 
 
 corslet on the eighth day. And now, my kind leech, 
 let me inquire of the news abroad. What of the noble 
 Saxon Cedric and his household ? — what of the lovely 
 
 Lady " He stopt, as if unwilling to speak Rowena's 
 
 name in the house of a Jew — "Of her, I mean, who was 
 named Queen of the tournament ? " 
 
 " And who was selected by you, Sir Knight, to hold 
 that dignity, with judgment which was admired as much 
 as your valour," replied Rebecca. 
 
 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 Rowena by the awk- 
 ward attempt he had made to conceal it. 
 
 " It was less of her I would speak," said he, " than 
 of Prince John 5 and I would fain know somewhat of a 
 faithful squire, and why he now attends me not?" 
 
 "Let me use my authority as a leech," answered Re- 
 becca, "and enjoin you to keep silence, and avoid agitat- 
 ing reflections, whilst I apprise you of what you desire to 
 know. Prince John hath broken off the tournament, and 
 set forward in all haste towards York, with the nobles, 
 knights, and churchmen of his party, after collect- 
 ing such sums as they could wring, by fair means 
 or foul, from those who are esteemed the wealthy of 
 the land. It is said he designs to assume his brother's 
 crown." 
 
 "Not without a blow struck in its defence," said Ivan- 
 hoe, raising himself upon the couch, "if there were but 
 one true subject in England. I will fight for Richard's 
 title with the best of them — ay, one to two, in his just 
 quarrel ! " 
 
 " But that you may be able to do so," said Rebecca, 
 touching his shoulder with her hand, " you must now 
 observe my directions, and remain quiet." 
 
 " True, maiden," said Ivanhoe, " as quiet as these dis- 
 quieted times will permit. — And of Cedric and his house- 
 hold ? " 
 
 "His steward came but brief while since," said the 
 Jewess, " panting with haste, to ask my father for cer- 
 tain monies, the price of wool the growth of Cedric's 
 c 
 
290 IVANHOE. 
 
 flocks, and from him I learned that Cedric and Athel- 
 stane of Coningsburgh had left Prince John's lodging in 
 high displeasure, and were about to set forth on their 
 return homeward." 
 
 " Went any lady with them to the banquet ? " said 
 Wilfred. 
 
 "The Lady Rowena," said Rebecca, answering the 
 question with more precision than it had been asked — 
 " the Lady Rowena went not to the Prince's feast, and, 
 as the steward reported to us, she is now on her journey 
 back to Rotherwood with her guardian Cedric. And 
 touching your faithful squire Gurth " 
 
 " Ha ! " exclaimed the knight, "knowest thou his name ? 
 
 — But thou dost," he immediately added, " and well 
 thou mayst, for it was from thy hand, and, as I am now 
 convinced, from thine own generosity of spirit, that he 
 received but yesterday a hundred zecchins." 
 
 " Speak not of that," said Rebecca, blushing deeply ; 
 " I see how easy it is for the tongue to betray what the 
 heart would gladly conceal." 
 
 " But this sum of gold," said Ivanhoe, gravely, " my 
 honour is concerned in repaying it to your father." 
 
 "Let it be as thou wilt," said Rebecca, "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 
 thee." 
 
 "I grieve to tell thee, Sir Knight," answered the 
 Jewess, " that he is in custody by the order of Cedric." 
 
 — And then observing the distress which her communi- 
 cation gave to Wilfred, she instantly added : " But the 
 steward Oswald said, that if nothing occurred to renew 
 his master's displeasure against him, he was sure that 
 Cedric would pardon Gurth, a faithful serf, and one who 
 stood high in favour, and who had but committed this 
 error out of the love which he bore to Cedric's son. And 
 he said, moreover, that he and his comrades, and espe- 
 cially Wamba, the Jester, were resolved to warn Gurth 
 
IVANHOE. 291 
 
 to make his escape by the way, in case Cedric's ire 
 against him could not be mitigated." 
 
 " Would to Grod they may keep their purpose ! " said 
 Ivanhoe ; " but it seems as if I were destined to bring 
 ruin on whomsoever hath shown kindness to me. My 
 king, by whom I was honoured and distinguished — thou 
 seest that the brother most indebted to him is raising his 
 arms to grasp his crown ; — my regard hath brought re- 
 straint 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 labour to assist ; be wise, 
 and let me go, ere the misfortunes which track my foot- 
 steps like slot-hounds, shall involve thee also in their pur- 
 suit." 
 
 " Nay," said Kebecca, " 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 ex 
 alted ; and for the evil which thou hast sustained, seest 
 thou not that Heaven has raised thee a helper and a 
 physician, even among the most despised of the land ? 
 — Therefore, be of good courage, and trust that thou art 
 preserved for some marvel which thine arm shall work 
 before this people. Adieu — and having taken the medi- 
 cine which I shall send thee by the hand of Keuben, com- 
 pose 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 Kebecca. The draught which Reuben 
 administered 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 
 travelling with ease. In one circumstance only even the 
 
292 
 
 IVANHOE. 3\ 
 
 entreaties of Rebecca were unable to secure sufficient at- 
 tention to the accommodation of the wounded knight. 
 Isaac, like the enriched traveller of Juvenal's tenth 
 satire, had ever the fear of robbery before his eyes, con- 
 scious 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 con- 
 stitution, that he did not sustain from the hurried jour- 
 ney that inconvenience which his kind physician had 
 apprehended. 
 
 In another point of view, however, the Jew's haste 
 proved somewhat more than good speed. The rapidity 
 with which he insisted on travelling bred several disputes 
 between him and the party whom he had hired to attend 
 him as a guard. These men were Saxons, and not free 
 by any means from the national love of ease and good 
 living which the Normans stigmatised as laziness and 
 gluttony. Reversing Shylock's position, they had ac- 
 cepted the employment in hopes of feeding upon the 
 wealthy Jew, and were very much displeased when they 
 found themselves disappointed by the rapidity with which 
 he insisted on their proceeding. They remonstrated also 
 upon the risk of damage to their horses by these forced 
 marches. Finally, there arose betwixt Isaac and his 
 satellites a deadly feud concerning the quantity of wine 
 and ale to be allowed for consumption at each meal. 
 And thus it happened, that when the alarm of danger 
 approached, and that which Isaac feared, was likely to 
 come upon him, he was deserted by the discontented 
 mercenaries, on whose protection he had relied without 
 using the means necessary to secure their attachment. 
 
 In this deplorable condition, the Jew, with his daugh- 
 ter and her wounded patient, were found by Cedric, as 
 has already been noticed, and soon afterwards fell into 
 the power of De Bracy and his confederates. Little 
 
IVANHOE. 293 
 
 nonce was at first taken of the horse-litter, and it might 
 have remained behind but for the curiosity of De Bracy, 
 who looked into it under the impression that it might 
 contain the object of his enterprise, for Rowena had not 
 unveiled herself. But De Bracy's astonishment was con- 
 siderable when he discovered that the litter contained a 
 wounded man, who, conceiving himself to have fallen 
 into the power of Saxon outlaws, with whom his name 
 might be a protection for himself and his friends, frankly 
 avowed himself to be Wilfred of Ivanhoe. 
 
 The ideas of chivalrous honour, which, amidst his 
 wildness and levity, never utterly abandoned De Bracy, 
 prohibited him from doing the knight any injury in his 
 defenceless condition, and equally interdicted his be- 
 traying him to Front-de-Boeuf, 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 Rowena, 
 as the events of the tournament, and indeed Wilfred's 
 previous banishment from his father's house, had made 
 matter of notoriety, was a pitch far above the flight of 
 De Bracy's generosity. A middle course betwixt good 
 and evil was all which he found himself capable of 
 adopting, and he commanded two of his own squires to 
 keep close by the litter, and to suffer no one to approach 
 it. If questioned, they were directed by their master to 
 say that the empty litter of the Lady Rowena was 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 treasure, and the other on his daughter, De 
 Bracy's squires conveyed Ivanhoe, still under the name 
 of a wounded comrade, to a distant apartment. This 
 explanation was accordingly returned by these men to 
 Front-de-Boeuf, when he questioned them why they did 
 not make for the battlements upon the alarm. 
 
 " A wounded companion ! ' be replied in great wratn 
 and astonishment. "No wonder that churls and yeo- 
 men wax so presumptuous as even to lay leaguer before 
 
294 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 dy- 
 ing folks' curtains, when the castle is about to be as- 
 sailed. — To the battlements, ye loitering villains ! " he 
 exclaimed, raising his stentorian voice till the arches 
 around rung again — "to the battlements, or I will 
 splinter your bones with this truncheon ! " 
 
 The men sulkily replied that they desired nothing 
 better than to go to the battlements, providing 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, Urf ried — 
 hag — fiend of a Saxon witch — hearest me not ? Tend 
 me this bedridden fellow, since he must needs be tended, 
 whilst these knaves use their weapons. — Here be two 
 arblasts, comrades, with windlaces and quarrels — to the 
 barbican with you, and see you drive each bolt through 
 a Saxon brain." 
 
 The men, who, like most of their description, were 
 fond of enterprise and detested inaction, went joyfully 
 to the scene of danger as they were commanded, and 
 thus the charge of Ivanhoe was transferred to Urfried, 
 or Ulrica. But she, whjose brain was burning with re- 
 membrance of injuries and with hopes of vengeance, was 
 readily induced to devolve upon Rebecca the care of her 
 patient. 
 
 CHAPTER 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 also a moment of open- 
 hearted kindness and affection. We are thrown off our 
 guard by the general agitation of our feelings, and betray 
 
IVANHOE. 295 
 
 the intensity of those which, at more tranquil periods, 
 our prudence at least conceals, if it cannot altogether 
 suppress them. In finding herself once more by the side 
 of Ivanhoe, Kebecca was astonished at the keen sensa- 
 tion of pleasure which she experienced, even at a time 
 when all around them both was danger, if not despair. 
 As she felt his pulse, and inquired after his health, there 
 was a softness in her touch and in her accents, implying 
 a kinder interest than she would herself have been 
 pleased to have voluntarily expressed. Her voice fal- 
 tered and her hand trembled, and it was only the cold 
 question of Ivanhoe, " Is it you, gentle maiden ? " which 
 recalled her to herself, and reminded her the sensations 
 which she felt were not and could not be mutual. A 
 sigh escaped, but it was scarce audible; and the ques- 
 tions which she asked the knight concerning his state of 
 health were put in the tone of calm friendship. Ivanhoe 
 answered her hastily that he was, in point of health, as 
 well, and better, than he could have expected — " Thanks," 
 he said, " dear Rebecca, to thy helpful skill." 
 
 " He calls me dear Rebecca," said the maiden to her- 
 self, "but it is in the cold and careless tone which ill 
 suits the word. His war-horse — his hunting hound, are 
 dearer to him than the despised Jewess ! " 
 
 "My mind, gentle maiden," continued Ivanhoe, "is 
 more disturbed by anxiety than my body with pain. 
 From the speeches of these men who were my warders 
 just now, I learn that I am a prisoner, and, if I judge 
 aright of the loud hoarse voice which even now dis- 
 patched 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 Rowena and my father ? " 
 
 " He names not the Jew or Jewess," said Rebecca, in- 
 ternally; "yet what is our portion in him, and how 
 justly am I punished by Heaven for- letting my thoughts 
 dwell upon him ! " She hastened after this brief self- 
 accusation to give Ivanhoe what information she could ; 
 but it amounted only to this, that the Templar Bois- 
 Guilbert and the Baron Front-de-Boeuf were command- 
 ers within the castle; that it was beleaguered from 
 
296 IVANHOE. 
 
 without, but by whom she knew not. She added, that 
 there was a Christian priest within the castle who might 
 be possessed of more information. 
 
 " A Christian priest ! " said the knight, joyfully ; 
 " fetch him hither, Rebecca, if thou canst — say a sick 
 \man desires his ghostly counsel — say what thou wilt, 
 but bring him ; something I must do or attempt, but 
 how can I determine until I know how matters stand 
 without ? " 
 
 Rebecca, in compliance with the wishes of Ivanhoe, 
 made that attempt to bring Cedric into the wounded 
 knight's chamber which was defeated, as we have al- 
 ready seen, by the interference of Urfried, who had been 
 also on the watch to intercept the supposed monk. Re- 
 becca retired to communicate to Ivanhoe the result of 
 her errand. 
 
 They had not much leisure to regret the failure of this 
 source of intelligence, or to contrive by what means it 
 might be supplied ; for the noise within the castle, occa- 
 sioned by the defensive preparations, which had been 
 considerable for some time, now increased into tenfold 
 bustle and clamour. The heavy yet hasty step of the 
 men-at-arms traversed the battlements, or resounded on 
 the narrow and winding passages and stairs which led 
 to the various bartizans and points of defence. The 
 voices of the knights were heard, animating their follow- 
 ers, or directing means of defence, while their commands 
 were often drowned in the clashing of armour, or the 
 clamorous shouts of those whom they addressed. Tre- 
 mendous as these sounds were, and yet more terrible 
 from the awful event which they presaged, there was a 
 sublimity mixed with them which Rebecca's high-toned 
 mind could feel even in that moment of terror. Her eye 
 kindled, although the blood fled from her cheeks; and 
 there was a strong ' mixture of fear, and of a thrilling 
 sense of the sublime, as she repeated, half-whispering to 
 herself, half-speaking to her companion, the sacred text 
 — "The quiver rattleth — the glittering spear and the 
 shield — the noise of the captains and the shouting ! " 
 
 But Ivanhoe was like the war-horse of that sublime 
 
C^3^S 
 
 ,/Af a '''ng> KerseW" of ifc. f»rd«ecTIor> 
 of* targ^e. ancient" sKtelfe 
 
 
IVAN-HOE. 297 
 
 passage, glowing with impatience at his inactivity, and 
 with his ardent desire to mingle in the affray of which 
 these sounds were the introduction. "If I could but 
 drag myself," he said, " to yonder window, that I might 
 see how this brave game is like to go — If I had but bow 
 to shoot a shaft, or battle-axe to strike were it but a single 
 blow for our deliverance ! It is in vain — it is in vain — 
 I am alike nerveless and weaponless ! " 
 
 "Fret not thyself, noble knight," answered Rebecca, 
 "the sounds have ceased of a sudden — it may be they 
 join not battle." 
 
 "Thou knowest nought of it," said Wilfred, impa- 
 tiently ; " this dead pause only shows that the men are at 
 their posts on the walls, and expecting an instant attack , 
 what we have heard was but the 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 without." 
 
 " You must not — you shall not ! " exclaimed Ivanhoe. 
 " Each lattice, each aperture, will be soon a mark for the 
 archers; some random shaft " 
 
 " It shall be welcome ! " murmured Rebecca, as with 
 firm pace she ascended two or three steps, which led to 
 the window of which they spoke. 
 
 "Rebecca — dear Rebecca! " exclaimed Ivanhoe, "this 
 is no maiden's pastime — do not expose thyself to wounds 
 and death, and render me for ever miserable for having 
 given the occasion; at least, cover thyself with yonder 
 ancient buckler, and show as little of your person at the 
 lattice as may be." 
 
 Following with wonderful promptitude the directions 
 of Ivanhoe, and availing herself of the protection of the 
 large ancient shield, which she placed against the lower 
 part of the window, Rebecca, with tolerable security to 
 herself, could witness part of what was passing without 
 the castle, and report to Ivanhoe the preparations which 
 the assailants were making for the storm. Indeed, the 
 
298 IVANHOE. 
 
 situation which she thus obtained was peculiarly favour- 
 able for this purpose, because, being placed on an angle 
 of the main building, Rebecca could not only see what 
 passed beyond the precincts of the castle, but also com- 
 manded a view of the outwork likely to be the first object 
 of the meditated assault. It was an exterior fortification 
 of no great height or strength, intended to protect the 
 postern-gate, through which Cedric had been recently dis- 
 missed 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 com- 
 munication with the main building, by withdrawing the 
 temporary bridge. In the outwork was a sallyport cor- 
 responding to the postern of the , castle, and the whole 
 was surrounded by a strong palisade. Rebecca could ob- 
 serve, 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 Ivan- 
 hoe, and added, " The skirts of the woods 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 Rebecca. 
 
 "A singular novelty," muttered the knight, "to ad- 
 vance to storm such a castle without pennon or ban- 
 ner displayed ! — Seest thou who they be that act as 
 leaders ? " 
 
 " A knight, clad in sable armour, 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. 
 
 " Something resembling a bar of iron and a padlock 
 painted blue on the black shield." 
 
IVANHOE. 299 
 
 "A fetterlock and shackle-bolt azure," said Ivanhoe; 
 " I know not who may bear the device, but well I ween 
 it might now be mine own. Canst thou not see the 
 motto?" 
 
 " Scarce the device itself at this distance," replied 
 Rebecca ; " but when the sun glances fair upon his shield 
 it shows 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 defences 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 nourish 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 chal- 
 lenge of the enemy. The shouts of both parties aug- 
 mented the fearful din, the assailants crying, " St. George 
 for merry England ! " and the Normans answering them 
 with loud cries of " En avant De Bracy ! — Beau-seant I 
 Beau-seant! — Front-cle-Boeuf a la rescousse!" according 
 to the war-cries of their different commanders. 
 
 It was not, however, by clamour that the contest was 
 to be decided, and the desperate efforts of the assailants 
 were met by an equally vigorous defence on the part of 
 the besieged. The archers, trained by their woodland 
 pastimes to the most effective use of the long-bow, shot, 
 to use the appropriate phrase of the time, so " wholly to- 
 gether," that no point at which a defender could show 
 the least part of his person escaped their cloth-yard 
 shafts. By this heavy discharge, which continued as 
 thick and sharp as hail, while, notwithstanding, every 
 
300 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 occa- 
 sionally had post, or might be suspected to be stationed 
 — by this sustained discharge, two or three of the garri- 
 son were slain and several others wounded. But, confi- 
 dent in their armour of proof, and in the cover which 
 their situation afforded, the followers of Front-de-Bceuf 
 and his allies showed an obstinacy in defence propor- 
 tioned to the fury of the attack, and replied with the dis- 
 charge 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 of missiles on both sides was only 
 interrupted by the shouts which arose when either side 
 inflicted or sustained some notable loss. 
 
 " And I must lie here like a bedridden monk," ex- 
 claimed 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 be- 
 ware 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 employe^ in mental devotion, Kebecca 
 again took post at the lattice, sheltering herself, however, 
 so as not to be visible from beneath. 
 
 " What dost thou see, Rebecca ? " again demanded the 
 wounded knight. 
 
 " Nothing but the cloud of arrows flying so thick as to 
 dazzle mine eyes, and to hide the bowmen who shoot 
 them." 
 
 " That cannot endure," said Ivanhoe ; " if they press 
 not right on to carry the castle by pure force of arms, 
 the archery may avail but little against stone walls and 
 bulwarks. Look for the Knight of the Fetterlock, fair 
 Rebecca, and see how he bears himself ; for as the leader 
 is, so will his followers be." 
 
IVANHOE. 301 
 
 " I see him not," said Rebecca. 
 
 " Foul craven ! " exclaimed Ivanhoe ; " does he blench 
 from the helm when the wind blows highest ? " 
 
 " He blenches not ! — he blenches not ! " said Rebecca, 
 "I see him now; he leads a body of men close under 
 the outer barrier of the barbican. — They pull down the 
 piles and palisades ; they hew down the barriers with 
 axes. — His high black plume floats abroad over the 
 throng, like a raven over the field of the slain. — They 
 have made a breach in the barriers — they rush in — 
 they are thrust back ! — Front-de-Bceuf heads the de- 
 fenders ; 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 meet- 
 ing of two fierce tides — the conflict of two oceans moved 
 by adverse winds ! " 
 
 She turned her head from the lattice, as if unable 
 longer to endure a sight so terrible. 
 
 " Look forth again, Rebecca," said Ivanhoe, mistaking 
 the cause of her retiring ; " the archery must in some 
 degree have ceased, since they are now fighting hand 
 to hand. — Look again, there is now less danger." 
 
 Rebecca again looked forth, and almost immediately 
 exclaimed, "Holy prophets of the law! 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 op- 
 pressed and of the captive ! " She then uttered a loud 
 shriek, and exclaimed, " He is down ! — he is down ! " 
 
 " Who is down ? " cried Ivanhoe ; " for our dear Lady's 
 sake, tell me which has fallen ? " 
 
 " The Black Knight," answered Rebecca, faintly ; then 
 instantly again shouted with joyful eagerness : " But no 
 
 — but no ! the name of the Lord of Hosts be blessed ! 
 he is on foot again, and fights as if there were twenty 
 men's strength in his single arm. — His sword is broken 
 
 — he snatches an axe from a yeomen — 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 ! " 
 
302 IVANHOE. 
 
 " Front-de-Boeuf ? " exclaimed Ivanhoe. 
 
 " Front-de-Boeuf ," answered the Jewess. "His men 
 rush to the rescue, headed by the haughty Templar — 
 their united force compels the champion to pause. — They 
 drag Front-de-Boeuf within the walls." 
 
 "The assailants have won the barriers, have they 
 not ? " said Ivanhoe. 
 
 "They have — they have ! " exclaimed Rebecca ; " and 
 they press the besieged hard upon the outer wall ; some 
 plant ladders, some swarm like bees, and endeavour to 
 ascend upon the shoulders of each other — down go 
 stones, beams, and trunks of trees upon their heads, and 
 as fast as they bear the wounded to the rear, fresh men 
 supply their places in the assault. Great God! hast 
 Thou given men Thine own image that it should be thus 
 cruelly defaced by the hands of their brethren ! " 
 
 " Think not of that," said Ivanhoe ; " this is no time 
 for such thoughts — Who yield? — who push their 
 way ? " 
 
 "The ladders are thrown down," replied Rebecca, 
 shuddering; "the soldiers lie grovelling under them 
 like crushed reptiles. — The besieged have the better." 
 
 " St. George strike for us ! " exclaimed the knight ; 
 " do the false yeomen give Avay ? " 
 
 "No!" exclaimed Rebecca, '"they bear themselves 
 right yeomanry. The Black Knight approaches the 
 postern with his huge axe, — the thundering blows which 
 he deals, you may hear them above all the din and shouts 
 of the battle — 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 Rebecca — "it 
 crashes — it is splintered by his blows — they rush in 
 — the outwork is won. O God ! they hurl the defenders 
 from the battlements — they throw them into the moat. 
 men, if ye be indeed men, spare them that can resist 
 no longer ! " 
 
IVANHOE. 303 
 
 * The bridge — the bridge which communicates with 
 the castle — have they won that pass ? " exclaimed 
 Ivanhoe. 
 
 " No," replied Eebecca ; " the Templar has destroyed 
 the plank on which they crossed — few of the defenders 
 escaped with him into the castle — the shrieks and cries 
 which you hear tell the fate of the others. Alas ! I see 
 it is still more difficult to look upon victory than upon 
 battle." 
 
 " What do they now, maiden ? " said Ivanhoe ; " look 
 forth yet again — this is no time to faint at bloodshed." 
 
 "It is over for the time," answered Rebecca; "our 
 friends strengthen themselves within the outwork which 
 they have mastered, and it affords them so good a shel- 
 ter from the foemen's shot that the garrison only bestow 
 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 abandon 
 an enterprise so gloriously begun and so happily at- 
 tained. — Oh, no ! I will put my faith in the good knight 
 whose axe hath rent heart-of-oak and bars of iron. — 
 Singular," he again muttered to himself, " if there be 
 two who can do a deed of such derring-do ! A fetter- 
 lock and a shackle-bolt on a field sable — what may that 
 mean ? Seest thou nought else, Rebecca, by which the 
 Black Knight may be distinguished ? " 
 
 " Nothing," said the Jewess : " all about him is black 
 as the wing of the night raven. Nothing can I spy that 
 can mark him 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 bloodshed! — it is fearful, yet magnificent, to 
 behold how the arm and heart of one man can triumph 
 over hundreds." 
 
 " Rebecca," said Ivanhoe, " thou hast painted a hero ; 
 surely they rest but to refresh their force, or to provide 
 
304 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 
 emprize, since the difficulties which render it arduous 
 render it also glorious. I swear by the honour of my 
 house — I vow by the name of my bright lady-love, I 
 would endure ten years' captivity to fight one day by 
 that good knight's side in such a quarrel as this ! " 
 
 " Alas ! " said Rebecca, leaving her station at the 
 window, and approaching the couch of the wounded 
 knight, "this impatient yearning after action — this 
 struggling with and repining at your present weakness, 
 will not fail to injure your returning health. How 
 couldst thou hope to inflict wounds on others, ere that 
 be healed which thou thyself hast received ? " 
 
 " Rebecca," he replied, " thou knowest not how im- 
 possible it is for one trained to actions of chivalry to 
 remain passive as a priest, or a woman, when they are 
 acting deeds of honour around him. The love of battle 
 is the food upon which we live — the dust of the m&lee 
 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 
 death 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 Rebecca ; " alas ! is the rusted 
 mail which hangs as a hatchment over the champion's 
 dim and mouldering tomb, — is the defaced sculpture of 
 the inscription which the ignorant monk can hardly 
 
IVANHOE. 305 
 
 read to the inquiring pilgrim — are these sufficient re- 
 wards 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 wander- 
 ing bard, that domestic love, kindly affection, peace and 
 happiness, are so wildly bartered, to become the hero of 
 those ballads which vagabond minstrels sing to drunken 
 churls over their evening ale ? " 
 
 " By the soul of Hereward ! ' replied the knight, 
 impatiently, "thou speakest, maiden, of thou knowest 
 not what. Thou wouldst quench the pure light of 
 chivalry, which alone distinguishes the noble from the 
 base, the gentle knight from the churl and the savage ; 
 which rates our life far, far beneath the pitch of our 
 honour, raises us victorious over pain, toil, and suffering, 
 and teaches us to fear no evil but disgrace. Thou art no 
 Christian, Kebecca; and to thee are unknown those 
 high feelings which swell the bosom of a noble maiden 
 when her lover hath done some deed of emprize which 
 sanctions his flame. Chivalry ! — why, maiden, she is 
 the nurse of pure and high affection, the stay of the 
 oppressed, the redresser of grievances, the curb of the 
 power of the tyrant. Nobility were but an empty name 
 without her, and liberty finds the best protection in her 
 lance and her sword." 
 
 " I am, indeed," said Kebecca, " sprung from a 
 race whose courage was distinguished in the defence of 
 their own land, but who warred not, even while yet a 
 nation, save at the command of the Deity, or in de- 
 fending their country from oppression. The sound of 
 the trumpet wakes Judah no longer, and her despised 
 children are now but the unresisting victims of hostile 
 and military oppression. Well hast thou spoken, Sir 
 Knight — until the God of Jacob shall raise up for His 
 chosen people a second Gideon, or a new Maccabeus, it 
 ill beseemeth the Jewish damsel to speak of battle or 
 of war." 
 
 The high-minded maiden concluded the argument in 
 a tone of sorrow, which deeply expressed her sense of 
 the degradation of her people, embittered perhaps by 
 
306 IVANHOE. 
 
 the idea that Ivanhoe considered her as one not entitled 
 to interfere in a case of honour, and incapable of enter- 
 taining or expressing sentiments of honour and gener- 
 osity. 
 
 "How little he knows this bosom," she said, "to 
 imagine that cowardice or meanness of soul must needs 
 be its guests, because I have censured the fantastic 
 chivalry of the Nazarenes ! Would to Heaven that the 
 shedding of mine own blood, drop by drop, could redeem 
 the captivity of Judah ! Nay, would to God it could 
 avail to set free my father, and this his benefactor, from 
 the chains of the oppressor ! The proud Christian 
 should then see whether the daughter of God's chosen 
 people dared not to die as bravely as the vainest Naza- 
 rene maiden, that boasts her descent from some petty 
 chieftain of the rude and frozen north ! " 
 
 She then looked towards the couch of the wounded 
 knight. 
 
 "He sleeps," she said; "nature exhausted by suffer- 
 ance 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 nos- 
 tril shall be distended, the mouth agape, the eyes fixed 
 and bloodshot; and when the proud and noble knight 
 may be trodden on by the lowest caitiff of this accursed 
 castle, yet stir not when the heel is lifted up against 
 him ! And my father ! — oh, my father ! evil is it with 
 his daughter, when his grey hairs are not remembered 
 because of the golden locks of youth ! — What know I 
 but that these evils are the messengers of Jehovah's 
 wrath to the unnatural child who thinks of a stranger's 
 captivity before a parent's ? who forgets the desolation 
 of Judah, and looks upon the comeliness of a Gentile 
 and a stranger ? — But I will tear this folly from my 
 heart, though every fibre bleed as I rend it away ! " 
 
 She wrapped herself closely in her veil, and sat down 
 
IVANHOE. 307 
 
 at a distance from the couch of the wounded knight, 
 with her back turned towards it, fortifying, or endeavour- 
 ing to fortify, her mind not only against the impending 
 evils from without, but also against those treacherous 
 feelings which assailed her from within. 
 
 CHAPTEE 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 prepar- 
 ing to pursue their advantage and the other to strengthen 
 their means of defence, the Templar and De Bracy held 
 brief counsel together in the hall of the castle. 
 
 " Where is Front-de-Bceuf ? " said the latter, who had 
 superintended the defence 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 axe. Yet a few hours, 
 and Front-de-Boeuf 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-Bceuf's want 
 of faith ; neither of you can render a reason for your be- 
 lief or unbelief." 
 
 " Benedicite, Sir Templar," replied De Bracy, " I pray 
 you to keep better rule with your tongue when. I am the 
 
308 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 Temple of Zion nurseth not a few heretics within 
 its bosom, and that Sir Brian de Bois-G-uilbert is of the 
 number." 
 
 " Care not thou 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 thiuk, 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, en- 
 couraging these malapert knaves to rebel against us ! Had 
 I not been armed in proof, the villain had marked me 
 down seven times with as little remorse as if I had been 
 a buck in season. He told every rivet on my armour with 
 a cloth-yard shaft, that 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 defence of 
 every point, and the men complain that they can nowhere 
 show themselves, but they are the mark for as many 
 arrows as a parish-butt on a holyday even. Front-de- 
 Boeuf 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 
 prisoners, and stand an object alike of ridicule and exe- 
 cration, as the doughty warriors who dared by a night- 
 attack to possess themselves of the persons of a party of 
 
IVANHOE. 309 
 
 defenceless travellers, yet could not make good a strong 
 castle against a vagabond troop of outlaws, led by swine- 
 herds, 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 con- 
 sent to such base and dishonourable composition." 
 
 " Let us to the walls, then," said De Bracy, carelessly ; 
 " that man never breathed, be he Turk or Templar, who 
 held life at higher rate than I do. But I trust there is 
 no dishonour 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 should I see my banner at the head 
 of your clump of spears ! And how short while would 
 these rabble villains stand to endure your encounter ! " 
 
 " Wish for whom thou wilt," said the Templar, "but 
 let us make what defence we can with the soldiers who 
 remain. They are chiefly Front-de-Bceuf's followers, 
 hated by the English for a thousand acts of insolence 
 and oppression." 
 
 " The better," said De Bracy, " the rugged slaves will 
 defend themselves to the last drop of their blood, ere 
 thev encounter the revenge of the neasants without. Let 
 us up 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 sur- 
 mounting 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 endeavour, by a formidable assault, to draw the 
 chief part of the defenders' observation to this point, and 
 
310 IVANHOE. 
 
 take measures to avail themselves of every negligence 
 which might take place in the defence elsewhere. To 
 guard against such an evil, their numbers only per- 
 mitted 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 re- 
 serve, ready to hasten to any other point which might be 
 suddenly threatened. The loss of the barbican had also 
 this unfortunate effect, that, notwithstanding the superior 
 height of the castle walls, the besieged could not see from 
 them, with the same precision as before, the operations of 
 the enemy ; for some straggling underwood approached 
 so near the sallyport of the outworks that the assailants 
 might introduce into it whatever force they thought 
 proper, not only under cover, but even without the know- 
 ledge of the defenders. Utterly uncertain, therefore, 
 upon what point the storm was to burst, De Bracy and 
 his companion were under the necessity of providing 
 against every possible contingency, and their followers, 
 however brave, experienced the anxious dejection of mind 
 incident to men enclosed by enemies, who possessed the 
 power of choosing their time and mode of attack. 
 
 Meanwhile, the lord of the beleaguered and endangered 
 castle lay upon a bed of bodily pain and mental agony. 
 He had not the usual resource of bigots in that super- 
 stitious period, most of whom were wont to atone for the 
 crimes they were guilty of, by liberality to the Church, 
 stupefying by this means their terrors by the idea of 
 atonement and forgiveness ; and although the refuge 
 which success thus purchased was no more like to the 
 peace of mind which follows on sincere repentance than 
 the turbid stupefaction procured by opium resembles 
 healthy and natural slumbers, it was still a state of mind 
 preferable to the agonies of awakened remorse. But 
 among the vices of Front-de-Boeuf, a hard and griping 
 man, avarice was predominant ; and he preferred setting 
 
IV AN HOE. 311 
 
 church and churchmen 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 characterise his associate when he said 
 Front-de-Boeuf could assign no cause for his unbelief and 
 contempt for the established faith ; for the baron would 
 have alleged that the Church sold her wares too dear, 
 that the spiritual freedom which she put up to sale was 
 only to be bought, like that of the chief captain of Jeru- 
 salem, " witn 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 
 his treasures were gliding from before his eyes, and when 
 the savage baron's heart, though hard as a nether mill- 
 stone, became appalled as he gazed forward into the waste 
 darkness of futurity. The fever of his body aided the 
 impatience and agony of his mind, and his death-bed 
 exhibited a mixture of the newly awakened feelings of 
 horror combating with the fixed and inveterate obstinacy 
 of his disposition — a fearful state of mind, only to be 
 equalled in those tremendous regions where there are 
 complaints without hope, remorse without repentance, a 
 dreadful sense of present agony, and a presentiment that 
 it cannot cease or be diminished ! 
 
 " Where be these dog-priests now," growled the baron, 
 "who set such price on their ghostly mummery? — 
 where be all those unshod Carmelites, for whom old 
 Front-de-Boeuf 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 jug- 
 gling tricks at the bedside of some miserly churl. Me, 
 the heir of their founder — me whom their foundation 
 binds them to pray for — me — ungrateful villains as they 
 are ! — they suffer to die like the houseless dog on yonder 
 common, unshriven and unhouseled ! Tell the Templar 
 to come hither ; he is a priest, and may do something — 
 But no ! as well confess myself to the devil as to Brian 
 de Bois-Guilbert, who recks neither of Heaven nor of 
 
312 IVANHOE. 
 
 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-Boeuf," said a broken and 
 shrill voice close by his bedside, " to say there is that 
 which he dares not ? " 
 
 The evil conscience and the shaken nerves of Front-de- 
 Boeuf 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." 
 
 " I am thine evil angel, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf," 
 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 1 but grapple with these horrors that hover round 
 me as I have done with mortal dangers, Heaven or Hell 
 should never say that I shrunk from the conflict ! " 
 
 " Think on thy sins, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf," said 
 the almost unearthly voice — " on rebellion, on rapine, on 
 murder ! Who stirred up the licentious John to war 
 against his grey-headed father — against his generous 
 brother ? " 
 
 "Be thou fiend, priest, or devil," replied 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 ; 
 
IVANHOE. 313 
 
 " 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-Boeuf, 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 canon- 
 ised who dip their hands in the blood of the Saracens ? — 
 The Saxon porkers whom I haveslain— 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 the 
 hand of a son ! " 
 
 " Ha ! " answered the Baron, after a long pause, " an 
 thou knowest that, thou art indeed the author of evil, 
 and as omniscient as the monks call thee ! That secret 
 I deemed locked in my own breast, and in that of one 
 besides — the temptress, the partaker of my guilt. — Go, 
 leave me, fiend ! and seek the Saxon witch Ulrica, who 
 alone could tell thee what she and I alone witnessed. — Go, 
 I say, to her, who washed the wounds, and straightened 
 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 couch of Front-de-Boeuf ; "she hath long drunken of 
 this cup, and its bitterness is now sweetened to see that 
 thou dost partake it. Grind not thy teeth, Front-de- 
 Boeuf — roll not thine eyes — clench not thy hand, nor 
 shake it at me with that gesture of menace ! The hand 
 which, like that of thy renowned ancestor who gained 
 thy name, could have broken with one stroke the skull of 
 a mountain-bull, is now unnerved and powerless as mine 
 own ! " 
 
 " Yile, murderous hag ! " replied Front-de-Boeuf, " de- 
 
314 IV AN HOE. 
 
 testable screech-owl ! it is then thou who art come to 
 exult over the ruins thou hast assisted to lay low ? " 
 
 "Ay, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf," answered she, " it is 
 Ulrica ! — it is the daughter of the murdered Torquil 
 Wolfganger ! — it is the sister of his slaughtered sons ! 
 — it is she who demands of thee, and of thy father's 
 house, father and kindred, name and fame — all that she 
 has lost by the name of Front-de-Boeuf! 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, 
 suddenly changing her tone, "thou shalt have neither 
 answer, nor aid, nor obedience at their hands. Listen to 
 these horrid sounds," for the din of the recommenced 
 assault and defence now rung fearfully loud from the 
 battlements of the castle; "in that war-cry is the down- 
 fall of thy house. The .blood-cemented fabric of Front- 
 de-Boeuf's power totters to the foundation, and before the 
 foes he most despised ! The Saxon, Reginald ! — the 
 scorned Saxon assails thy walls ! — Why liest thou here, 
 like a worn-out hind, when the Saxon storms thy place 
 of strength ? " 
 
 " Gods and fiends ! " exclaimed the wounded knight. 
 " Oh, for one moment's strength, to drag myself to the 
 melee, and perish as becomes my name ! " 
 
 " Think not of it, valiant warrior ! " replied she ; " thou 
 shalt die no soldier's death, but perish like the fox in his 
 den, when the peasants have set fire to the cover around 
 it." 
 
 " Hateful hag ! thou liest ! " exclaimed Front-de-Boeuf ; 
 
IVANHOE. 315 
 
 a 
 
 my followers 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 Com- 
 panions rises high over the conflict ! And by mine 
 honour, 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 
 smouldering and suffocating vapour which already eddies 
 in sable folds through the chamber ? — Didst thou think 
 it was but the darkening of thy bursting eyes, the diffi- 
 culty of thy cumbered breathing ? — No ! Front-de- 
 Bceuf, there is another cause. Remeinberest thou the 
 magazine of fuel that is stored beneath these apart- 
 ments ? " 
 
 " 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 
 frightful composure ; " and a signal shall soon wave to 
 warn the 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 as 
 thyself, the companion of thy punishment as the com- 
 panion of thy guilt. — And now, parricide, farewell for 
 ever ! 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 
 
316 IVAN HOE. 
 
 and double-] ockecl the door behind her, thus cutting off 
 the most slender chance of escape. In the extremity of 
 agony, he shouted upon his servants and allies : " Stephen 
 and St. Maur ! Clement and Giles ! I burn here unaided ! 
 To the rescue — to the rescue, brave Bois-G-uilbert, 
 valiant De Bracy ! — It is Front-de-Beeuf 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 
 cf battle. The smoke rolls thicker and thicker, — the 
 fire has caught upon the floor below. Oh. for one draught 
 of the air of heaven, were it to be purchased by instant 
 annihilation ! " And in the mad frenzy of desp>air, the 
 wretch now shouted with the shouts of the fighters, now 
 muttered curses on himself, on mankind, and on Heaven 
 itself. — " The red fire flashes through the thick smoke ! " 
 he exclaimed ; " the demon marches against me under the 
 banner of his own element. Foul spirit, avoid ! — I go 
 not with thee without my comrades — all, all are thine 
 that garrison these walls — Thinkest thou Front-de- 
 Bceuf will be singled out to go alone ? Xo — the infidel 
 Templar — the licentious De Bracy — Ulrica, the foul, 
 murdering strumpet — the men who aided my enter- 
 prises — 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 vaulted roof rang again. 
 " AVho laughed there ? n exclaimed Front-de-Boeuf, in 
 altered mood, for the noise of the conflict did not prevent 
 the echoes of his own mad laughter from returning upon 
 his ear — " who laughed there ? 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 — avauut ! * " 
 
 But it were impious to trace any farther the picture of 
 the blasphemer and parricide's death-bed. 
 
ir. r e 317 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 1 s, c :\ce more, 
 
 .;. .. . : .- 
 
 - od yeomei 
 
 • - iii 1 ■" . 
 
 [".:■: :. - .irt — :s > 
 That yoa are vr 
 
 King H<:;\ry F. 
 
 :....''" igfa k gi -' . Ulrica's no s- 
 
 - _ mi tted not 1 her pi mis to the] 
 
 Knight and ] ksl pleas > find 
 
 they _..:.- 
 
 moment of :.. nd 
 
 ■dily agreed I I S thai i si ran, under what 
 
 fcages - h I I tl I - - ' 
 
 means 3 rs now 
 
 b-de-1 .f. 
 K Th '. f Alfred is ttdangei 
 
 nourof a noble I is in] riy said the Bis 
 Knighl 
 
 St Chris aldri. said the 
 
 rood - i .an tl. - 
 
 of that poor faithful ild jeopard a 
 
 jowl r of his he.-. I - 
 
 "Ands dd I," said the Friar; "wJ g 9! Itj si 
 well that a foci — 1 mean, - me. sirs, a fool that 
 
 is free of his gnil I an I d sb . of his craJ . give 
 
 is h and flavour to a cup of wir. - ver a flitch 
 .vn — I > .. - ich a fool shall ne 
 
 t wise >r or fight for him at a 
 
 while I can say amass 
 
 And with tl /.eavyha y.lay around 
 
 his 1. - ;erd boy flow is 5 his ghl k. 
 
 -1 - 1 the 1 a ■■,".■-. > if 
 
 St, Dunstan hi - If had sai lit — A.d now. good 1 
 
 aot : d si ss ome the 
 
 direo: 
 
 • X : ■ jot I." returned ( "I have never been 
 
318 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 neighbours well know I am not a trained 
 soldier in the discipline of wars or the attack of strong- 
 holds." 
 
 " Since it stands thus with noble Cedric," said Locks- 
 ley, " I am most willing to take on me the direction of 
 the archery ; and ye shall hang me up on my own try sting- 
 tree an the defenders be permitted to show themselves 
 over the walls without being stuck 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 
 matters, and can find among these brave men as many as 
 are willing to follow a true English knight, for so I may 
 surely call myself, I am ready, with such skill as my 
 experience has taught me, to lead them to the attack of 
 these walls." 
 
 The parts being thus distributed to the leaders, they 
 commenced the first assault, of which the reader has al- 
 ready heard the issue. 
 
 When the barbican was carried, the Sable Knight sent 
 notice of the happy event to Locksley, requesting him at 
 the same time to keep such a strict observation on the 
 castle as might prevent the defenders from combining 
 their force for a sudden sally, and recovering the outwork 
 which they had lost. This the knight was chiefly desirous 
 of avoiding, conscious that the men whom he led, being 
 hasty and untrained volunteers, imperfectly armed and 
 unaccustomed to discipline, must, upon any sudden attack, 
 fight at great disadvantage with the veteran soldiers of 
 the Norman knights, who were well provided with arms 
 both defensive and offensive ; and who, to match the zeal 
 and high spirit of the besiegers, had all the confidence 
 which arises from perfect discipline and the habitual use 
 of weapons. 
 
 The knight employed the interval in causing to be con- 
 structed a sort of floating bridge, or long raft, by means 
 of which he hoped to cross the moat in despite of the re- 
 
IVANHOE. 319 
 
 sistance of the enemy. This was the work of some time, 
 which the leaders the less regretted, as it gave Ulrica 
 leisure to execute her plan of diversion in their favour, 
 whatever that might be. 
 
 When the raft was completed, the Black Knight ad- 
 dressed 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 accomplish our purpose. Wherefore, one of ye 
 go to Lock si ey, and bid him commence a discharge of 
 arrows on the opposite side of the castle, and move for- 
 ward as if about to assault it; and you, true English 
 hearts, stand by me. and be ready to thrust the raft end- 
 long over the moat whenever the postern on our side is 
 thrown open. Follow me boldly across, and aid me to 
 burst yon sallyport 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 
 Cedric, wilt 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 corselet, 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 
 corselet 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 bar- 
 
320 IVANHOE. 
 
 bican to the moat, and which corresponded with a sally- 
 port in the main wall of the castle, was now suddenly 
 opened; the temporary bridge was then thrust forward, 
 and soon flashed in the waters, extending its length 
 between the castle and outwork, and forming a slippery 
 and precarious passage for two men abreast to cross the 
 moat. Well aware of the importance of taking the foe 
 by surprise, the Black Knight, closely followed by Cedric, 
 threw himself upon the bridge, and reached the opposite 
 side. Here he began to thunder with his axe upon the 
 gate of the castle, protected in part from the shot and 
 stones cast by the defenders by the ruins of the former 
 drawbridge, which the Templar had demolished in his 
 retreat from the barbican, leaving the counterpoise still 
 attached to the upper part of the portal. The followers 
 of the knight had no such shelter ; two were instantly 
 shot with cross-bow bolts, and two more fell into the 
 moat ; the others retreated back into the barbican. 
 
 The situation of Cedric and of the Black Knight was 
 now truly dangerous, and would have been still more so 
 but for the constancy of the archers in the barbican, who 
 ceased not to shower their arrows upon the battlements, 
 distracting the attention of those by whom they were 
 manned, and thus affording a respite to their two chiefs 
 from the storm of missiles which must otherwise have 
 overwhelmed them. But their situation was eminently 
 perilous, and was becoming more so with every moment. 
 
 " Shame on 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 pickaxe and 
 levers, and down with the 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 de- 
 scribed to Cedric. The stout yeoman Locksley was the 
 first who was aware of it, as he was hasting to the out- 
 work, impatient to see the progress of the assault. 
 
IVANHOE. 321 
 
 " 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, show thon canst tight for thy rosary 
 — make in, brave yeomen! — the castle is ours, we have 
 friends within — See yonder flag, it is the appointed 
 signal — Torquilstone is ours ! Think of honour — think 
 of spoil ! One effort, and the place is ours ! " 
 
 With that he bent his good bow, and sent a shaft right 
 through the breast of one of the men-at-arms, who, under 
 De Bracy's direction, was loosening a fragment from one 
 of the battlements to precipitate on the heads of Cedric 
 and the Black Knight. A second soldier caught from 
 the hands of the dying man the iron crow with which he 
 heaved at and had loosened the stone pinnacle, when, re- 
 ceiving an arrow through his head-piece, he dropped from 
 the battlements into the moat a dead man. The men-at- 
 arms were daunted, for no armour 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 armour 
 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 
 
322 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 
 character, Brian de Bois-G-uilbert communicated this hide- 
 ous 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 not fail me ?" 
 
 " Hand and glove, I will not ! " said Bois-Guilbert. 
 " But haste thee, in the name of God ! " 
 
 De Bracy hastily drew his men together, and rushed 
 down to the postern gate, which he caused instantly to be 
 thrown open. But scarce was this done ere the portentous 
 strength of the Black Knight forced his way inward in 
 despite of De Bracy and his followers. Two of the fore- 
 most 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 
 
IVANHOE. 323 
 
 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 main- 
 tain the fame he had acquired in the civil wars of that 
 dreadful period. The vaulted passage to which the 
 postern gave entrance, and in which these two redoubted 
 champions were now fighting hand to hand, rung with the 
 furious blows which they dealt each other, De Bracy with 
 his sword, the Black Knight with his ponderous axe. At 
 length the Norman received a blow which, though its force 
 was partly parried by his shield, for otherwise never more 
 would De 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 dis- 
 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 sub- 
 mission. 
 
 "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 — 
 H prisoner, and perish! The life of every man in the 
 
324 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 towards the courtyard. De 
 Bracy himself arose from the ground, and cast a sorrow- 
 ful glance after his conqueror. " He trusts me not ! " he 
 repeated ; " but have I deserved his trust ? " He then 
 lifted his sword from the floor, took off his helmet in 
 token of submission, and, going to the barbican, gave up 
 his sword to Locksley, whom he met by the way. 
 
 As the fire augmented, symptoms of it became soon 
 apparent in the chamber where Ivanhoe was watched and 
 tended by the Jewess Rebecca. 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 tq 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 vapour, 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 sen- 
 sible of the progress of this new danger. 
 
 " The castle burns," said Rebecca, " it burns ! What 
 can we do to save ourselves ? " 
 
 " Fly, Rebecca, and save thine own life," said Ivanhoe, 
 "for no human aid can avail me." 
 . " I will not fly," answered Rebecca ; " we will be saved 
 or perish together. And yet, great God ! my father — 
 my father, what will be his fate ? " 
 
IVANHOE. 325 
 
 At this moment the door of the apartment flew open, 
 and the Templar presented himself — a ghastly figure, 
 for his gilded armour was broken and bloody, and the 
 plume was partly shorn away, partly burnt from his 
 casque. " I have found thee," said he to Rebecca ; 
 " 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 breastplate — save my aged father — save this 
 wounded knight ! " 
 
 " A knight," answered the Templar, with his charac- 
 teristic 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 Rebecca, " 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 Row- 
 ena — 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 
 
326 I VAN HOE. 
 
 much ease as the Templar had carried o;ff Rebecca, 
 rushed with him to the postern, and having there de- 
 livered his burden to the care of two yeomen, he again 
 entered the castle to assist in the rescue of the other 
 prisoners. 
 
 One turret was now in bright flames, which flashed 
 out furiously from window and shot-hole. But in other 
 parts the great thickness of the walls and the vaulted 
 roofs of the apartments resisted the progress of the 
 flames, and there the rage of man still triumphed, as 
 the scarce more dreadful element held mastery else- 
 where; for the besiegers pursued the defenders of the 
 castle from chamber to chamber, and satiated in their 
 blood the vengeance which had long animated them 
 against the soldiers of the tyrant Front-de-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 
 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, wjth 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 inventive genius of 
 Wamba had procured liberation for himself and his 
 companion in adversity. 
 
 When the noise of the conflict announced that it was 
 at the hottest, the Jester began to shout, with the 
 
IVANHOE. 327 
 
 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 armour which lay scattered around the hall. 
 
 A guard, which had been stationed in the outer or 
 ante-room, and whose spirits were already in a state of 
 alarm, took fright at Wamba's clamour, and leaving the 
 door open behind them, ran to tell the Templar that 
 foemen had entered the old hall. Meantime the pris- 
 oners found no difficulty in making their escape into the 
 ante-room, and from thence into the court of the castle, 
 which was now the last scene of contest. Here sat the 
 fierce Templar, mounted on horseback, surrounded by 
 several of the garrison both on horse and foot, who had 
 united their strength to that of this renowned leader, in 
 order to secure the last chance of safety and retreat 
 w r hich remained to them. The drawbridge had been 
 lowered by his orders, but the passage was beset; for 
 the archers, who had hitherto only annoyed the castle 
 on that side by their missiles, no sooner saw the flames 
 breaking out, and the bridge lowered, than they thronged 
 to the entrance, as well to prevent the escape of the 
 garrison as to secure their own share of booty ere the 
 castle should be burnt down. On the other hand, a party 
 of the besiegers, who had entered by the postern,were now 
 issuing out into the courtyard, and attacking with fury 
 the remnant of the defenders, who were thus assaulted 
 on both sides at once. 
 
 Animated, however, by despair, and supported by the 
 example of their indomitable leader, the remaining 
 soldiers of the castle fought with the utmost valour ; 
 and, being well armed, succeeded more than once in 
 driving back the assailants,' though much inferior in 
 numbers. Rebecca, placed on horseback before one of 
 the Templar's Saracen slaves, was in the midst of the 
 little party ; and Bois-Guilbert, notwithstanding the con- 
 fusion 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 tri- 
 
328 IVANHOE. 
 
 angular steel-plated shield ; and anon starting from his 
 position by her, he cried his war-cry, dashed forward, 
 struck to earth the most forward of the assailants, 
 and was on the same instant once more at her 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 ; " hasty hand 
 catches frog for fish — by my bauble, yonder is none of 
 my Lady Rowena, — see but her long dark locks ! Nay, an 
 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 
 armour too ! — bethink you, silk bonnet never kept out 
 steel blade. — Nay, then, if wilful will to water, wilful 
 must drench. Deus vobiscum, most doughty Athelstane ! " 
 he concluded, loosening the hold which he had hitherto 
 kept upon the Saxon's tunic. 
 
 To snatch a mace from the pavement, on which it lay 
 beside one whose dying grasp had just relinquished it, 
 to rush on the Templar's band, and to strike in quick 
 succession to the right and left, levelling 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 murder- 
 ing 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 r 
 he made a demi-courbette towards the Saxon, and rising 
 in the stirrups, so as to take full advantage of the descent 
 
*? e J '^ar S e^ d Jarful U 
 
 <^£jT5>nrt^ 
 
IVANHOE. 329 
 
 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 plated handle of the mace which 
 the ill-fated Saxon reared to parry the blow, and, de- 
 scending on his head, levelled him with the earth. 
 
 " Ha I Beau-seant I " 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 draw- 
 bridge, 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-G-uilbert. 
 
 " No," replied De Bracy ; " I have rendered me, rescue 
 or no rescue. I will be true prisoner. Save thyself — 
 there are hawks abroad — put the seas betwixt you and 
 England : I dare not say more." 
 
 " Well, " answered the Templar, " an thou wilt tarry 
 there, remember I have redeemed word and glove. Be 
 the hawks where they will, methinks the walls of the 
 Preceptory of Templestowe will be cover sufficient, and 
 thither will I, like heron to her haunt." 
 
 Having thus spoken, he galloped off with his followers. 
 
 Those of the castle who had not gotten to horse, still 
 continued to fight desperately with the besiegers, after 
 the departure of the Templar, but rather in despair of 
 quarter than that they entertained any hope of escape. 
 The fire was spreading rapidly through all parts of the 
 castle, when Ulrica, who had first kindled it, appeared 
 
330 IVANHOE. 
 
 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, dishevelled grey hair flew back from her un- 
 covered head; the inebriating delight of gratified ven- 
 geance contended in her eyes with the fire of insanity ; 
 and she brandished the distaff which she held in her 
 hand, as if she had been one of the Fatal Sisters who 
 spin and abridge the 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 ! 
 
 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 ! 
 
 The black cloud is low over the thane's castle ; 
 
 The eagle screams — he rides on its bosom. 
 
 Scream not, grey rider of the sable cloud, 
 
 Thy banquet is prepared ! 
 
 The maidens of Valhalla look forth, 
 
 The race of Hengist will send them guests. 
 
 Shake your black tresses, maidens of Valhalla ! 
 
 And strike your loud timbrels for joy ! 
 
 Many a haughty step bends to your halls, 
 
 Many a helmed head. 
 
 Dark sits the evening upon the 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 / 
 
IVANHOE. 331 
 
 All must perish ! 
 
 The sword cleaveth the helmet ; 
 
 The strong armour is pierced by the lance ; 
 
 Fire devoureth the dwelling of princes ; 
 
 Engines break down the fences of the battle. 
 
 All must perish ! 
 
 The race of Hengist is gone — 
 
 The name of Horsa is no more ! 
 
 Shrink not then from your doom, sons of the sword ! 
 
 Let your blades drink blood like wine ; 
 
 Feast ye in the banquet of slaughter, 
 
 By the light of the blazing halls ! 
 
 Strong be your swords while your blood is warm, 
 
 And spare neither for pity nor fear, 
 
 For vengeance hath but an hour ; 
 
 Strong hate itself shall expire ! 
 
 I also must perish ! 
 
 The towering flames had now surmounted every ob- 
 struction, and rose to the evening skies one huge and 
 burning \ eacon, seen far and wide through the adjacent 
 country. Tower after tower crashed down, with blazing 
 roof and rafter; and the combatants were driven from 
 the courtyard. The vanquished, of whom very few re- 
 mained, scattered and escaped into the neighbouring wood. 
 The victors, assembling in large bands, gazed with won- 
 der, not unmixed with fear, upon the flames, in which 
 their own ranks and arms glanced dusky red. The ma- 
 niac figure of the Saxon Ulrica was for a long time visi- 
 ble on the lofty stand she had chosen, tossing her arms 
 abroad with wild exultation, as if she reigned empress 
 of the conflagration which she had raised. At length, 
 with a terrific crash, the whole turret gave way, and she 
 perished in the flames which had consumed her tyrant. 
 An awful pause of horror silenced each murmur of the 
 armed spectators, who, for the space of several minutes, 
 stirred not a finger, save to sign the cross. The voice of 
 Locksley was then heard : " Shout, yeomen ! the den of 
 tyrants is no more ! Let each bring his spoil 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." 
 
332 IVANHOE. 
 
 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, 
 Keeps yet some touch of civil discipline ; 
 For not since Adam wore his verdant apron, 
 Hath man with man in social union dwelt, 
 But laws were made to draw that union closer. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 The daylight had dawned upon the glades of the oak 
 forest. The green boughs glittered with all their pearls 
 of dew. The hind led her fawn from the covert of high 
 fern to the more open walks of the greenwood, and no 
 huntsman was there to watch or intercept the stately 
 hart, as he paced at the head of the antlered h^rd. 
 
 The outlaws were all assembled around the trysting- 
 tree in the Harthill Walk, where they had spent the 
 night in refreshing themselves after the fatigues of the 
 siege — some with wine, some with slumber, many with 
 hearing and recounting the events of the day, and com- 
 puting the heaps of plunder which their success had 
 placed at the disposal of their chief. 
 
 The spoils were indeed very large ; for, notwithstand- 
 ing that much was consumed, a great deal of plate, rich 
 armour, 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, how- 
 ever, the same to which Locksley had conducted Gurth 
 and Wamba in the earlier part of the story, but one 
 which was the centre of a silvan amphitheatre, within 
 half a mile of the demolished castle of Torquilstone. 
 Here Locksley assumed his seat — a throne of turf 
 erected under the twisted branches of the huge oak, and 
 
IVANHOE. 333 
 
 the silvan 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 mor- 
 tal 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 God's 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-Bceuf's Gascoigne 
 wine." 
 
 " Now, the saints, as many as there be of them," said 
 the captain, " forefend, 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, showed how much the troop had at heart the 
 safety of their spiritual father. 
 
 "Meanwhile, let us proceed," said Locksley: "for when 
 this bold deed shall be sounded abroad, the bands of De 
 Bracy, of Malvoisin, and other allies of Front-de-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 which best 
 suits thee, to recompense thy people who were partakers 
 with us in this adventure." 
 
 " Good yeoman," said Cedric, " my heart is oppressed 
 with sadness. The noble Athelstane of Coningsburgh is 
 
 A^V^ 
 
334 IVANHOE. 
 
 no more — the last sprout of the sainted Confessor ! 
 Hopes have perished with him which can never return ! 
 
 — A sparkle hath been quenched by his blood which no 
 human breath can again rekindle ! My people, save the 
 few who are now with me, do but tarry my presence to 
 transport his honoured remains to their last mansion. The 
 Lady Rowena is desirous to return to Rotherwood, and 
 must be escorted by a sufficient force. I should, there- 
 fore, 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 Hard 
 
 — I waited but to render my thanks to thee and to thy 
 bold yeomen, for the life and honour ye have saved." 
 
 "Nay, but," said the chief outlaw, "we did but half 
 the work at most — take of the spoil what may reward your 
 own neighbours and followers." 
 
 " I am rich enough to reward them from mine own 
 wealth," answered Cedric. 
 
 "And some," said Wamba, "have been wise enough to 
 reward themselves ; they do not march off empty-handed 
 altogether. We do not all wear motley." 
 
 "They are welcome," said Locksley; "our laws bind 
 none but ourselves." 
 
 " But thou, my poor knave," said Cedric, turning about 
 and embracing his Jester, " how shall I reward thee, who 
 feared not to give thy body to chains and death instead of 
 mine ? All forsook me, when the poor fool was faithful ! " 
 
 A tear stood in the eye of the rough thane as he spoke 
 
 — a mark of feeling which even the death of Athelstane 
 had not extracted; but there was something in the half- 
 instinctive attachment of his clown that waked his nature 
 more keenly than even grief itself. 
 
 " Nay," said the Jester, extricating himself from his 
 master's caress, " if you pay my service with ih.e 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 
 
IVAXHOE. 335 
 
 and reward him. Kneel down, Gurth." — The swineherd 
 was in an instant at his masters feet. — " Theow and 
 Esxe 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 
 I give to thee in my steads of Walbrugham, from me and 
 mine to thee and thine aye and for ever; and God's 
 malison en his head who this gainsa} 7 s ! " 
 
 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 con- 
 tinued, — for that faithful cur, seeing his master thus 
 transported, began to jump upon him to express his sym- 
 pathy, — "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 Aid- 
 helm 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 
 Rowena appeared, surrounded by several riders, and a 
 much stronger party of footmen, who joyfully shook their 
 pikes and clashed their brown-bills for joy of her freedom. 
 She herself, richly attired, and mounted on a dark chest- 
 nut palfrey, had recovered all the dignity of her manner, 
 and only an unwonted degree of paleness showed the 
 sufferings she had undergone. Her lovely brow, though 
 sorrowful, bore on it a cast of reviving hope for the 
 future, as well as a grateful thankfulness for the past 
 
336 IVANHOE. 
 
 deliverance. She knew that Ivanhoe was safe, and she 
 knew that Athelstane was dead. The former assurance 
 rilled her with the most sincere delight ; and if she did 
 not absolutely rejoice at the latter, she might be pardoned 
 for feeling the full advantage of being freed from further 
 persecution on the only subject in which she had ever 
 been contradicted by her guardian Cedric. 
 
 As Rowena bent her steed towards Locksley' s seat, that 
 bold yeoman, with all his followers, rose to receive her, 
 as if by a general instinct of courtes}?". The blood rose 
 to her cheeks as, courteously waving her hand, and bend- 
 ing so low that her beautiful and loose tresses were for 
 an instant mixed with the flowing mane of her palfrey, 
 she expressed in few but apt words her obligations and 
 her gratitude to Locksley and her other deliverers. " God 
 bless you, brave men," she concluded — "God and Our 
 Lady bless you and requite you for gallantly perilling 
 yourselves in the cause of the oppressed ! If any of you 
 should hunger, remember Eowena has food — if you 
 should thirst, she has many a butt of wine and brown 
 ale — and if the Normans drive ye from these walks, 
 Rowena has forests of her own, where her gallant deliv- 
 erers 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 re- 
 quites itself. We who walk the greenwood do many a 
 wild deed, and the Lady Rowena' s deliverance may be 
 received as an atonement." 
 
 Again bowing from her palfrey, Rowena turned to 
 depart ; but pausing a moment, while Cedric, who was 
 to attend her, was also taking his leave, she found herself 
 unexpectedly close by the prisoner De Bracy. He stood 
 under a tree in deep meditation, his arms crossed upon 
 his breast, and Rowena was in hopes she might pass him 
 unobserved. He looked up, however, and, when aware 
 of her presence, a deep flush of shame suffused his hand- 
 some countenance. He stood a moment most irresolute ; 
 then, stepping forward, took her palfrey by the rein and 
 bent his knee before her. 
 
IVANHOE. 337 
 
 " Will the Lady Rowena deign to cast an eye on a cap- 
 tive knight — on a dishonoured soldier ? " 
 
 "Sir Knight," answered Rowena, "in enterprises such 
 as yours, the real dishonour lies not in failure, but in 
 success." 
 
 " Conquest, lady, should soften the heart," answered 
 De Bracy ; " Let me but know that the Lady Rowena 
 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 Rowena, " as a 
 Christian." 
 
 "That means," said Wamba, "that she does not for- 
 give him at all." 
 
 " But I can never forgive the misery and desolation 
 your madness has occasioned," continued Rowena. 
 
 "Unloose your hold on the lady's rein," said Cedric, 
 coming up. " By the bright sun above us, but it were 
 shame, I would pin thee to the earth with my javelin; 
 but be well assured, thou shalt smart, Maurice de Bracy, 
 for thy share in this foul deed." 
 
 " He threatens safely who threatens a prisoner," said 
 De Bracy ; " but when had a Saxon any touch of cour- 
 tesy ? " 
 
 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 Rotherwood. 
 
 " I know," he said, " that ye errant knights desire to 
 carry your fortunes on the point of your lance, and reck 
 not of land or goods ; but war is a changeful mistress, 
 and a home is sometimes desirable even to the champion 
 whose trade is wandering. Thou hast earned one in the 
 halls of Rotherwood, noble knight. Cedric has wealth 
 enough to repair the injuries of fortune, and all he has 
 is his deliverer's. Come, therefore, to Rotherwood, not as 
 a guest, but as a son or brother." 
 
 "Cedric has already made me rich," said the Knight: 
 "he has taught me the value of Saxon virtue. To 
 
338 IVANHOE. 
 
 Rotherwood will I conie, brave Saxon, and that speedily, 
 but, as now, pressing matters of moment detain me from 
 your halls. Peradventure, when I come hither, I will 
 ask such a boon as will put even thy generosity to the 
 test." 
 
 "It is granted ere spoken out," said Cedric, striking 
 his ready hand into the gauntleted palm of the Black 
 Knight — " it is granted already, were it to affect half 
 my fortune." 
 
 " Gage not thy promise so lightly," said the Knight of 
 the Fetterlock ; " yet 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 Coningsburgh — 
 They will be open to all who choose to partake of tire 
 funeral banqueting; and — I speak in name of the noble 
 Edith, mother of the fallen prince — they will never be 
 shut against him who laboured 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 
 honour to the cheer." 
 
 "Peace, and move on," said Cedric, his anger at this 
 untimely jest being checked by the recollection of Wam- 
 ba's recent services. Rowena 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 silvan amphitheatre, and took the same direc- 
 tion with Rowena and her followers. The priests of a 
 neighbouring convent, in expectation of the ample dona- 
 tion, 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 
 
IVANHOE. 339 
 
 shoulders of his vassals to his castle of Coningsburgh, to 
 be there deposited in the grave of Hengist, from whom 
 the deceased derived his long descent. Many of his vas- 
 sals had assembled at the news of his death, and followed 
 the bier with all the external marks, at least, of dejection 
 and sorrow. Again the outlaws arose, and paid the same 
 rude and spontaneous homage to death which they had 
 so lately rendered to beauty ; the slow chant and mourn- 
 ful step of the priests brought back to their remembrance 
 such of their comrades as had 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 death hymn had died on the wind, the out- 
 laws were again busied in the distribution of their spoil. 
 
 "Valiant knight," said Locksley 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 Try sting- 
 tree ? " 
 
 " I accept the offer," said the Knight, " as frankly as 
 it is given ; and I ask permission to dispose of Sir Maurice 
 de Bracy at my own pleasure." 
 
 " He is thine already," said Locksley, " and well for 
 him ! else the tyrant had graced the highest bough of this 
 oak, with as many of his Free Companions as we could 
 gather, hanging thick as acorns around him. — But he is 
 thy prisoner, and he is safe, though he had slain my 
 father." . 
 
 " De Bracy," said the Knight, " thou art free — depart. "" 
 He whose prisoner thou art scorns to 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 upon a cry which ye followed not when the 
 stag was at bay — De Bracy scorns your censure as he 
 
340 IVANHOE. 
 
 ■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 impera- 
 tive interference 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 accou- 
 tred 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 some- 
 what composed, the chief outlaw took from his neck the 
 rich horn and baldric which he had recently gained at 
 the strife of archery near Ashby. 
 
 " Noble knight," he said to him of the Fetterlock, " if 
 you disdain not to grace by your acceptance a bugle 
 which an English yeoman has once worn, this I will pray 
 you to keep as a memorial of your gallant bearing; and 
 if ye have aught to do, and, as happeneth oft to a gallant 
 knight, ye chance to be hard bested in any forest between 
 Trent and Tees, wind three 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 srreenwood 
 
 £> J 
 
 rang. 
 
 " Well blown and clearly," said the yeoman ; " beshrew r 
 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." 
 
IVANHOE. 341 
 
 "Long live our leader!" shouted the yeomen, "and 
 long live the Black Knight of the Fetterlock ! May he 
 soon use our service to prove how readily it will be paid." 
 
 Locksley now proceeded to the distribution of the spoil, 
 which he performed with the most laudable impartiality. 
 A tenth part of the whole was set apart for the church 
 and for pious uses; a portion was next allotted to a sort 
 of public treasury; a part was assigned to the widows 
 and children of those who had fallen, or to be expended 
 in masses for the souls of such as had left no surviving 
 family. The rest was divided amongst the outlaws, ac- 
 cording to their rank and merit ; and the judgment of the 
 chief, on all such doubtful questions as occurred, was de-^-j 
 livered with great shrewdness, and received with absolute 
 submission. The Black Knight was not a little surprised 
 to find that men in a state so lawless were nevertheless 
 among themselves so regularly and equitably governed, 
 and all that he observed added to his opinion of the jus- 
 tice and judgment of their leader. 
 
 When each had taken his own proportion of the booty, 
 and while the treasurer, accompanied by four tall yeo- 
 men, was transporting that belonging to the state to some 
 place of concealment or of security, the portion devoted 
 to the church still remained unappropriated. 
 
 " I would," said the leader, " we could hear tidings of 
 our joyous chaplain — he was never wont to be absent 
 when meat was to be blessed, or spoil to be parted ; and 
 it is his duty to take care of these the tithes of our suc- 
 cessful enterprise. It may be the office has helped to 
 cover some of his canonical irregularities. Also, I have 
 a holy brother of his a prisoner at no great distance, and 
 I would fain 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 yeo- 
 
342 IV AN HOE. 
 
 men announced the arrival of him for whom they feared, 
 as they learned from the stentorian voice of the Friar 
 himself, long before they saw his burly person. 
 
 " Make room, my merry men ! " he exclaimed — " room 
 for your godly father and his prisoner. Cry welcome 
 once more. — I come, noble leader, like an eagle with my 
 prey in my clutch." And making his way through the 
 ring, amidst the laughter of all around, he appeared in 
 majestic triumph, his huge partisan in one hand, and in 
 the other a halter, one end of which was fastened to the 
 neck of the unfortunate Isaac of York, who, bent down 
 by sorrow and terror, was dragged on by the victorious 
 priest, who shouted aloud, " Where is 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 
 valour ! " 
 
 " Curtal Priest," said the captain, " thou hast been at 
 a wet mass this morning, as early as it is. In the name 
 of St. Nicholas, whom hast thou got here ? " 
 
 " A captive to my sword and to my lance, noble 
 captain," replied the Clerk of Copmanhurst, "to my 
 bow and to my halberd, I should rather say; and yet 
 I have redeemed him by my divinity from a worse 
 captivity. Speak, Jew — have I not ransomed thee 
 from Sathanas ? — have I not taught thee thy credo, 
 thy x>ater, and thine Ave Maria ? — Did I not spend 
 the whole night in drinking to thee, and in expound- 
 ing 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 
 conformable, Isaac, and repeat the words after me. Ave 
 Maria ! " 
 
 "Nay, we will -have no profanation, mad Priest," said 
 

 .V-/ 
 
 jQ^ 
 
 e- rotim , my merfy -me^n » 
 
 r»\y meri"y 
 
IV AN HOE. 343 
 
 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 had caught up one run- 
 let 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 voca- 
 tion, 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 re- 
 fresh myself after the fatigue of the action with the 
 unbeliever, with one humming cup of sack, and was pro- 
 ceeding to lead forth my captive, when, crash after crash, 
 as with wild thunder-dint and levin-fire, down toppled the 
 masonrv of another tower (marry beshrew their hands 
 that built it not the firmer!) and blocked up the pas- 
 sage. The roar of one falling tower followed another 
 — I gave up thought of life ; and deeming it a dishonour 
 to one of my profession to pass out of this world in com- 
 pany with a Jew, I heaved up my halberd to beat his 
 brains out; but I took pity on his grey 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 TVib- 
 bald 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 
 
344 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 gormandising 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 alto- 
 gether, as well as myself." 
 
 " Jew," said the captain, " is this true ? Hast thou 
 renounced thine unbelief ? " 
 
 " May I so find mercy in your eyes," said the Jew, 
 "as I know not one word which the reverend prelate 
 spake to me all this fearful night. Alas ! I was so dis- 
 traught 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 ! " 
 
 " Nay," said the Friar, " if thou dost retract vows 
 made in favour 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 trans- 
 ferred 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 a 
 
IVANHOE. 345 
 
 pleasure in provoking his quondam host, " hast thou for- 
 gotten how, that for ray sake — for I say nothing of the 
 temptation of the flagon and the pasty — thou didst 
 break thy vow of fast and vigil ? " 
 
 " Truly, friend," said the Friar, clenching his huge fist, 
 " I will bestow a buffet on thee." 
 
 " I accept of no such presents," said the Knight ; " I 
 am content to take thy cuff as a loan, but I will repay 
 thee with usury as deep as ever thy prisoner there ex- 
 acted in his traffic." 
 
 " I will prove that presently," said the Friar. 
 
 " Hola ! " cried the captain, " what art thou after, mad 
 Friar ? brawling beneath our trysting-tree ? " 
 
 " No brawling," said the Knight ; " it is but a friendly 
 interchange of courtesy. Friar, strike an thou darest — 
 I will stand thy blow, if thou will stand mine." 
 
 " Thou hast the advantage with that iron pot on thy 
 head," said the churchman; "but have at thee — Down 
 thou goest, an thou wert Goliath of Gath in his brazen 
 helmet." 
 
 The Friar bared his brawny arm up to the elbow, and 
 putting his full strength to the blow, gave the Knight a 
 buffet that might have felled an ox. But his adversary 
 stood firm as a rock. A loud shout was uttered by all 
 the yeomen around; for the clerk's cuff was proverbial 
 amongst them, and there were few who, in jest or earnest, 
 had not had occasion to know its vigour. " Now, priest," 
 said the Knight, pulling off his gauntlet, " if I had van- 
 tage on my head, I will have none on my hand ; stand fast 
 as a true man." 
 
 " Genam 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. 
 
346 IVANHOE. 
 
 " 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. Neverthe- 
 less, there is my hand, in friendly witness that I will ex- 
 change no more cuffs with thee, having been a loser by 
 the barter. End now all unkindness. Let us put the 
 Jew on 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 needest not to be told that thy race 
 are held to be accursed in all Christian communities, and 
 trust me that we cannot endure thy presence among us. 
 Think, therefore, of an offer, while I examine a prisoner 
 of another cast." 
 
 "Were many of Front-de-Bceuf 's men taken ? " de- 
 manded 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 
 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 yeo- 
 men was brought before the silvan throne of the outlaw 
 chief our old friend, Prior Aymer of Jorvaulx. 
 
IV AN HOE. 34; 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Flower of warriors, 
 How is't with Titus Lartius ? 
 
 Marcius. As with a man busied about decrees, 
 Condemning some to death and some to exile, 
 Ransoming him or pitying, threatening the other. 
 
 Coriolanus. 
 
 The captive Abbot's features and manners exhibited a 
 whimsical mixture of offended pride, and deranged foppery, 
 and bodily terror. 
 
 " Why, how now, my masters ? " said he, with a voice 
 in which all three emotions were blended. " What order 
 is this among ye ? Be ye Turks or Christians, that han- 
 dle a churchman ? — Know ye what it is, manus imponere 
 in servos Domini f Ye have plundered my mails, torn my 
 cope of curious cut lace, which might have served a cardi- 
 nal. Another in my place would have been at his excom- 
 municabo 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 ex- 
 pended in masses at the high altar of Jorvaulx Abbey, 
 and make your vow to eat no venison until next Pen- 
 tecost, 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 silvan leader ; " it were usage fit for no hound 
 of good race — much less for a Christian — ^ar less for a 
 priest — and least of all for the prior of the holy com- 
 munity 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 ran- 
 som, to the boot of all the treasure he hath already 
 robbed me of — gold chains and gymmal rings to an un- 
 known value ; besides what is broken and spoiled among 
 
348 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 bearing/' replied the 
 captain. 
 
 " It is true as the gospel of St. Mcodemus," 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 astounded 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 livelong night, it is time to be grave in the 
 morning." 
 
 "And I am as grave as a father confessor," replied the 
 outlaw; "you must pay a round ransom, Sir Prior, or 
 your convent is likely to be called to a new election ; for 
 your place will know you no more." 
 
 "Are ye Christians," said the Prior, "and hold this 
 language to a churchman ? " 
 
 " Christians ! ay, marry are we, and have divinity 
 among us to boot," answered the outlaw. "Let our 
 buxom chaplain stand fprth, and expound to this rev- 
 erend 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 to- 
 gether whatever scraps of learning he had acquired by 
 rote in former days — "Holy father," said he, " Deus 
 faciat salvam benignitatem vestram — you are welcome to 
 the greenwood." 
 
 " What profane mummery is this ? " said the Prior. 
 "Friend, if thou be'st indeed of the church, it were a 
 better deed to show me how I may escape from these 
 men's hands than to stand ducking and grinning here 
 like a morris-dancer." 
 
 " Truly, reverend father," said the Friar, " I know but 
 
IV AX HOE. 349 
 
 one mode in which thou niayest escape. This is St. An 
 drew's dav with us : we are taking our tithes." 
 
 "But not of the church, then, I trust, my good brother? ,: 
 said the Prior. 
 
 " Of church and lay," said the Friar ; " and therefore. Sir 
 Prior, facite vobis amicos de mammone iniquitatis — make 
 vourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, for 
 no other friendship is like to serve your turn." 
 
 •'I love a jolly woodsman at heart," said the Prior, 
 softening his tone ; " come, ye must not deal too hard 
 with me — I can well of woodcraft, and can wind a horn 
 clear and lustily, and hollo till every oak rings again — 
 Come, ye must not deal too hard with me." 
 
 " Give him a horn." said the outlaw; "we will prove 
 the skill he boasts of." 
 
 The Prior Avmer winded a blast accordingly. The 
 captain shook his head. 
 
 " Sir Prior," he said, " thou blowest a merry note, but 
 it may not ransom thee ; we cannot afford, as the legend 
 on a good knight's shield hath it, to set thee free for a 
 blast. Moreover, I have found thee — thou art one of 
 those who, with new French graces and tra-li-ras, disturb 
 the ancient English bugle notes. — Prior, that last flour- 
 ish 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, u but thy 
 plan transcends ! — Here, Jew, step forth — Look at that 
 holy Father Aymer, Prior of the rich Abbey of Jorvaulx, 
 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 
 
350 IV AN HOE. 
 
 the good fathers, and bought wheat and barley, and fruits 
 of 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 chan- 
 cel " 
 
 " And for the storing of your cellars in the last season 
 with the due allowance of Gascon wine," interrupted the 
 Jew; "but that — that is small matters." 
 
 " Hear the infidel dog ! " said the churchman ; " he 
 jangles as if our holy community did come under debts 
 for the wines we have a license to drink propter necessi- 
 tate?n 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, 
 pronounce what he may pay, without flaying both hide 
 and hair." 
 
 " An six hundred crowns," said Isaac, " the good Prior 
 might well pay to your honoured valours, 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 j 
 " Solomon had not done it better." 
 
 " Thou nearest 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 
 candlesticks on the altar at Jorvaulx, I shall scarce raise 
 the half ; and it will be necessary for that purpose that 
 I 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 ran- 
 
IVANHOE. 351 
 
 som. Thou shalt not want a cup of wine and a collop 
 of venison the while ; and if thou lovest woodcraft, thou 
 shalt see such as your north country never witnessed." 
 
 " Or, if so please you," said Isaac, willing to curry 
 favour with the outlaws, " I can send to York for the six 
 hundred crowns, out of certain monies 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 thou shalt lay down the redemp- 
 tion 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 
 captain. — " 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 
 bondage ? — I have seen but little of him myself, but our 
 cellarer and treasurer have dealt largely with him, and 
 report says that his house at York is so full of gold and 
 silver as is a shame in any Christian land. Marvel it is 
 to all living Christian hearts that such gnawing adders 
 should be suffered to eat into the bowels of the state, 
 and even of the holy church herself, with foul usuries 
 and extortions." 
 
 " Hold, father," said the Jew, " mitigate and assuage 
 your choler. I pray of your reverence to remember that 
 I force my monies upon no one. But when churchmen 
 and laymen, 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 Jew,' and ' the curse of Egypt on your 
 
352 IVANHOE. 
 
 tribe/ and all that may stir up the rude and uncivil pop- 
 ulace against poor strangers ! " 
 
 " Prior," said the captain, " Jew though he be, he hath 
 in this spoken well. Do thou, therefore, name his ran- 
 som, as he named thine, without farther rude terms." 
 
 "None but latro famosus — the interpretation whereof," 
 said the Prior, " will I give at some other time and tide 
 — would place a Christian prelate and an unbaptized Jew 
 upon the same bench. But since you require me to put 
 a price upon this caitiff, I tell you openly that ye will 
 wrong yourselves if you take from him a penny under a 
 thousand crowns." 
 
 " A sentence ! — a sentence ! " exclaimed the chief 
 outlaw. 
 
 "A sentence! — a sentence!" shouted his assessors; 
 " the Christian has shown his good nurture, and dealt with 
 us more generously than the Jew." 
 
 " The God of my fathers help me ! " said the Jew ; 
 " will ye bear to the ground an impoverished creature ? 
 I am this day childless, and will ye deprive me of the 
 means of livelihood ? " 
 
 " Thou wilt have the less to provide for, Jew, if thou 
 art childless," said 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. Rebecca ! daughter of my 
 beloved Rachel ! were each leaf on that tree a zecchin, 
 and each 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 
 vith 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 
 
IVANHOE. 353 
 
 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 dishonourable 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 
 thousand crowns leave thee altogether penniless ? " 
 
 Isaac, recalled to think of his worldly goods, the love 
 of 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. 
 
 w 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 wor- 
 shipful community; and so we shall avoid the heinous 
 offence 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 
 Be Bois-Guilbert, ere worse comes of it. Thou wilt find 
 him, as our scouts have brought notice, at the next Pre- 
 ceptory house of his Order. — Said I well, my merry 
 mates ? " 
 
 The yeomen expressed their wonted acquiescence in 
 their leader's opinion ; and Isaac, relieved of one-half of 
 his apprehensions, by learning that his daughter lived, 
 and might possibly be ransomed, threw himself at the 
 feet of the generous outlaw, and, rubbing his beard 
 against his buskins, sought to kiss the hem of his green 
 cassock. The captain drew himself back, and extricated 
 2a 
 
354 IVANHOE. 
 
 himself from the Jew's grasp, not without some marks 
 of contempt. 
 
 " Nay, beshrew thee, man, up with thee ! I am Eng- 
 lish 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." 
 
 "And what else should be the lot of thy accursed 
 race ? " answered the Prior ; " for what saith Holy Writ, 
 verbum Domini projeceru^t, et sapientia est nulla in eis — 
 they have cast forth the Word of the Lord, and there is 
 no wisdom in them — propterea dabo mulieres eorum exteris 
 — I will give their women to strangers, that is to the 
 Templar, as in 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 profu- 
 sion. Thou canst easily gratify his greed ; for think not 
 that I am blinded by thy pretexts of poverty. I am in- 
 timately 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 
 
IYANHOE. 355 
 
 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 Locks- 
 ley, 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 nought in it but some merchandises which I 
 will gladly part with to you — one hundred yards of Lin- 
 coln green to make doublets to thy men, and a hundred 
 staves of Spanish yew to make bows, and one hundred 
 silken bowstrings, 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 Rebecca 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 thine ill-timed ava- 
 rice," said the outlaw, " and I will deal with, him in thy 
 behalf." 
 
 He then turned from the Jew, who followed him, 
 however, as closely as his shadow. 
 
 "Prior 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 ; 
 
356 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 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 honour, 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 con- 
 dition; for, if I do a good deed 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." 
 
 " 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, 
 endeavouring to interpose. 
 
 "Good Jew — good beast — good earthworm!" said the 
 yeoman, losing patience ; " an thou dost go on to put 
 thy filthy lucre in the balance with thy daughter's life 
 and honour, by Heaven, I will strip thee of every mara- 
 vedi 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." 
 
IVANHOE. 357 
 
 " 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 ad- 
 vanced 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 enow to 
 supply all the monks of Jorvaulx for the next hundred 
 years, an they take not to writing chronicles." 
 
 The Prior sat • down, and at great leisure indicted 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 
 Templestowe, and, as I think, is most likely to accom- 
 plish 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 confraternity that do nought for nought." 
 
 " Well, Prior," said the outlaw, " I will detain thee no 
 longer here than to give the Jew a quittance for the six 
 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, an I burn not the abbey over thine 
 head, though I hang ten years the sooner ! " 
 
 With a much worse grace than that wherewith he had 
 penned the letter to Bois-Guilbert, the Prior wrote an 
 acquittance, discharging Isaac of York of six hundred 
 crowns, advanced to him in his need for acquittal of his 
 ransom, and faithfully promising to hold true 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 
 
358 IVANHOE. 
 
 gymraal rings, jewels, and fair vestures of which I have 
 been despoiled, having now satisfied you for my ransom 
 as a true prisoner." 
 
 " Touching your brethren, Sir Prior," said Locksley, 
 "they shall have present freedom, it were unjust to 
 detain them ; touching your horses and mules, they shall 
 also be restored, with such spending-money as may enable 
 you to reach York, for it were cruel to deprive you of the 
 means of journeying. — But as concerning rings, jewels, 
 chains, and what else, you must understand that we are 
 men of tender consciences, and will not yield to a ven- 
 erable man like yourself, who should be dead to the 
 vanities of this life, the strong temptation to break the 
 rule of his foundation, by wearing rings, chains, or other 
 vain 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 re- 
 ligious orders, I pray thee to look how thou wilt answer 
 to thine official for the share thou hast taken in this 
 day's work." 
 
 " Friend Prior," returned the hermit, " you are to know 
 that I belong to a little diocese where I am my own 
 diocesan, and care as little for the Bishop of York as I 
 do for the Abbot of Jorvaulx, the Prior, and all the 
 convent." 
 
 " Thou art utterly irregular," said the Prior — " one of 
 those disorderly men who, taking on them the sacred 
 character without due cause, profane the holy rites, and 
 endanger the souls of those who take counsel at their 
 hands ; lapides pro pane condonantes Us, 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 
 
IVANHOE. 359 
 
 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 rev- 
 erend 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 fluent]y, 
 and the hermit with the greater vehemence. The Prior 
 at length recollected himself sufficiently to be aware that 
 he was compromising his dignity by squabbling with such 
 a hedge-priest as the outlaw's chaplain, and being joined 
 by his attendants, rode off with considerably less pomp, 
 and in a much more apostolical condition, so far as 
 worldly matters were concerned, than he had exhibited 
 before this encounter. 
 
 It remained that the Jew should produce some security 
 for the ransom which he was to pay on the Prior's ac- 
 count, as well as upon his own. He gave, accordingly, 
 an order 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 merchandises 
 specified in the note. 
 
 " My brother Sheva," he said, groaning deeply, " hath 
 the key of my warehouses." 
 
 " And of the vaulted chamber," whispered Locksley. 
 
 " jSTo, no — may Heaven foref end ! " 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 
 
360 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 daugh- 
 ter'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 thou 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 inter- 
 est these various proceedings, now took his leave of the 
 outlaw in turn : nor could he avoid expressing his surprise 
 at having witnessed so much of civil policy amongst per- 
 sons cast out from all the ordinary protection and influ- 
 ence of the laws. 
 
 " 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, doubt- 
 less, numbers who wish to exercise its license with some 
 moderation, 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 ? " 
 
 " Sir Knight," said the outlaw, " we have each our se- 
 cret. You are welcome to form your judgment of me, 
 and I may use my conjectures touching you, though nei- 
 ther of our shafts may hit the mark they are shot at. 
 But as I do not pray to be admitted into your mysterv, 
 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 
 
IVANHOE. 361 
 
 with less of concealment on either side. — Meanwhile we 
 part friends, do we not ? " 
 
 " There is my hand upon it," said Locksley ; " and I 
 will call it the hand of a true Englishman, though an 
 outlaw for the present." 
 
 "And there is mine in return," said the Knight, "and 
 I hold it honoured by being clasped with yours. For he 
 that does good, having the unlimited power to do evil, 
 deserves praise not only for the good which he performs, 
 but for the evil which he forbears. Fare thee well, gal- 
 lant outlaw ! " 
 
 Thus parted that fair fellowship ; and he of the Fetter- 
 lock, mounting upon his strong war-horse, rode off through 
 the forest. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 King 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. Walde- 
 mar 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 
 stubborn and daring, though brutal, courage of Front-de- 
 Bceuf ; the buoyant spirits and bold bearing of De Bracy ; 
 the sagacity, martial experience, and renowned valour of 
 Brian de Bois-G-uilbert, were important to the success of 
 their conspiracy ; and, while cursing in secret their un- 
 necessary 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 
 
362 IVANHOE. 
 
 Prince John had contracted with that Israelite and his 
 brethren. This deficiency was likely to prove perilous in 
 an emergency so critical. 
 
 It was on the morning after the fall of Torquilstone, 
 that a confused report began to spread abroad in the city 
 of York that De Bracy and Bois-Guilbert, with their 
 confederate Front-de-Boeuf, had been taken or slain. 
 Waldemar brought the rumour to Prince John, announc- 
 ing, that he feared its truth the more that they had set 
 out with a small attendance, for the purpose of commit- 
 ting an assault on the Saxon Cedric and his attendants. 
 At another time the Prince would have treated this deed 
 of violence as a good jest ; but now that it interfered 
 with and impeded his own plans, he exclaimed against 
 the perpetrators, and spoke of the broken laws, and the 
 infringement of public order and of private property, in 
 a tone which might have become King Alfred. 
 
 " The unprincipled marauders ! " he said ; " were I ever 
 to become monarch of England, I would hang such trans- 
 gressors over 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 protec- 
 tion, 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 realised your 
 Grace's vision of converting feudal drawbridges into 
 gibbets ; and yonder bold-spirited Cedric seemeth one to 
 whom such an imagination might occur. Your Grace is 
 well aware, it will be dangerous to stir without Front-de- 
 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." 
 
IVAN HOE. 363 
 
 " What is to be done ? " said the Prince, stopping short 
 before Waldemar. 
 
 "I know nothing which can be done," answered his 
 counsellor, " save that which I have already taken order 
 for. — I came not to bewail this evil chance with youi 
 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- 
 play his banner, and to set presently forth towards the 
 castle of Front-de-Boeuf, to do what yet may be done for 
 the succour of our friends." 
 
 Prince John's face flushed with the pride of a spoilt 
 child, who has undergone what it conceives to be an 
 insult. 
 
 "By the face of God! " he said, "Waldemar 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, with- 
 out our express command." 
 
 " I crave your Grace's pardon," said Fitzurse, inter- 
 nally 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 Bracv himself, by the rood ! 
 
 — and in strange guise doth he come before us." 
 
 It was indeed De Bracy, " blood}' with spurring, fiery 
 red with speed." His armour bore all the marks of the 
 late obstinate fray, being broken, defaced, and stained 
 with blood in many places, and covered with clay and 
 dust from the crest to the spur. Undoing his helmet, he 
 placed it on the table, and stood a moment as if to col- 
 lect himself before he told his news. 
 
364 IVANHOE. 
 
 " 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-Boeuf ? " 
 
 " The Templar is fled," said De Bracy ; " Front-de- 
 Boeuf you will never see more. He has found a red 
 grave among the blazing rafters of his own castle, and I 
 alone am escaped to tell you." 
 
 "Cold news," said Waldemar, "to us, though you 
 speak of fire and conflagration." 
 
 " The worst news is not yet said," answered De Bracy ; 
 and, coming up to Prince John, he uttered in a low and 
 emphatic tone : " Richard is in England — 1 have seen 
 and spoken with him." 
 
 Prince John turned pale, tottered, and caught at the 
 back of an oaken bench to support himself, much like to 
 a man who receives an arrow in his bosom. 
 
 "Thou ravest, De Bracy," said Fitzurse, "it cannot 
 be." 
 
 " It is as true as truth itself," said De Bracy ; " I was 
 his prisoner, and spoke with him." 
 
 " With Richard Plantagenet, sayest thou ? " continued 
 Fitzurse. 
 
 " With Richard Plantagenet," replied De Bracy — 
 "with Richard Coeur-de-Lion — with Richard of Eng- 
 land." 
 
 " 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 
 Richard — a true knight-errant he, and will wander in 
 wild adventure, trusting the prowess of his single arm, 
 like any Sir Guy or Sir Be vis, while the weighty affairs 
 of his kingdom slumber, and his own safety is endan- 
 gered. — What dost thou propose to do, De Bracy ? " 
 
 " I ? I offered Richard the service of my Free Lances, 
 
IVANHOE. 365 
 
 and he refused them. I will lead them to Hull, seize on 
 shipping, and embark for Flanders ; thanks to the bus- 
 tling 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 
 awakened from the stupor into which he had been 
 thrown by the unexpected intelligence, and had been at- 
 tentive to the conversation which passed betwixt his fol- 
 lowers. "They fall off from me," he said to himself; 
 " they hold no more by me than a withered leaf by the 
 bough when a breeze blows on. it ! — Hell and fiends ! can 
 I shape no means for myself when I am deserted by 
 these cravens ? " — He paused, and there was an expres- 
 sion 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, loving things which are costly to come by ; jet ye 
 throw down wealth, honour, pleasure, all that our noble 
 game promised you, at the moment it might be won by 
 one bold cast ! " 
 
 "I understand you not," said De Bracy. "As soon as 
 Richard's return is blown abroad, he will be at the head 
 of an army, and all is then over with us. I would coun- 
 sel you, my lord, either to fly to France or take the pro- 
 tection of the Queen Mother." 
 
 "I seek no safety for myself," said Prince John, 
 haughtily ; "that I could secure by a word spoken to my 
 brother. But although you, De Bracy, and you, Walde- 
 mar Fitzurse, are so ready to abandon me, I should not 
 
366 IVANHOE. 
 
 greatly delight to see your heads blackening on Clifford's 
 Gate yonder. Thinkest thou, Waldemar, that the wily 
 Archbishop will not suffer thee to be taken from the 
 very horns of the altar, would it make his peace with 
 King Richard ? And forgettest thou, De Bracy, that 
 Robert Estoteville lies betwixt thee and Hull with all his 
 forces, and that the Earl of Essex is gathering his fol- 
 lowers ? If we had reason to fear these levies even 
 before Richard's return, trowest thou there is any doubt 
 now which party their leaders will take ? Trust me, 
 Estoteville alone has strength enough to drive all thy 
 Free Lances into the Humber." Waldemar Eitzurse and 
 De Bracy looked in each other's faces with blank dis- 
 may. " 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 will be but as they were when we commenced our 
 enterprise — it was founded on the hope that Richard 
 would remain a captive in Germany. Our uncle Robert 
 lived and died in the castle of Cardiff." 
 
 "Ay, but," said Waldemar, "your sire Henry sate 
 more firm in his seat than your Grace can. I say the 
 best prison is that which is made by the sexton — no 
 dungeon like a church-vault ! I have 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 ; " and you, good 
 
IVANHOE. 367 
 
 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, 
 considering the object of your terror. This Richard — 
 but a day since, and it would have been thy dearest wish 
 to have met him hand to hand in the ranks of battle — 
 a hundred times I have heard thee wish it." 
 
 " Ay," said De Bracy, " but that was, as thou sayest, 
 hand to hand, and in the ranks of battle ! Thou never 
 heardest me breathe a thought of assaulting him alone, 
 and in a forest." 
 
 " Thou art no good knight if thou dost scruple at it," 
 said Waldemar. " Was it in battle that Lancelot de Lac 
 and Sir Tristram won renown ? or was it not by encoun- 
 tering gigantic 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 Richard Plantagenet, and I think it was not 
 their wont to take odds against a single man." 
 
 " Thou art mad, De Bracy — what is it we propose to 
 thee, a hired and retained captain of Free Companions, 
 whose swords are purchased for Prince John's service ? 
 Thou art apprised of our enemy, and then thou scruplest, 
 though thy patron's fortunes, those of thy comrades, 
 thine own, and the life and honour of every one amongst 
 us, be at stake ! " 
 
 "I tell you," said De Bracy, sullenly, "that he gave 
 me my life. True, he sent me from his presence, and 
 refused my homage — so far I owe him neither favour 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 ; 
 
368 IVANHOE. 
 
 " and wilt thou forsake me, after so many protestations 
 of zeal for my service ? " 
 
 " I mean it not," said De Bracy ; " I will abide by you 
 in aught that becomes a knight, whether in the lists or in 
 the camp ; but this highway practice comes not within 
 my vow." 
 
 " Come hither, Waldemar," said Prince John. " An 
 unhappy prince am I. My father, King Henry, had 
 faithful servants. — He had but to say that he was 
 plagued with a factious priest, and the blood of Thomas- 
 a-Becket, saint though he was, stained the steps of his 
 own altar. Tracy, Morville, Brito, loyal and daring sub- 
 jects, 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 has fallen off from neither," said Waldemar 
 Fitzurse ; " and since it may not better be, I will take on 
 me the conduct of this perilous enterprise. Dearly, how- 
 ever, 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 Coeur-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 enterprise will no longer wear a 
 doubtful aspect. — Page," he said, " hie to my lodgings, 
 and tell my armourer 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 Bardon, 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 
 
IVANHOE. 369 
 
 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 Walde- 
 mar's head if he transgress it ! " 
 
 " I had better pass to his lodgings," said De Bracy, 
 " and make him fully aware of your Grace's pleasure ; 
 for, as it quite escaped my ear, it may not perchance have 
 reached that of Waldemar." 
 
 " Nay, nay," said Prince John, impatiently, " I promise 
 thee he heard me ; and, besides, I have farther occupa- 
 tion 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 confi- 
 dential 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 shows evidently how little 
 he reverences our blood, by his so readily undertaking 
 this enterprise against Bichard. Thou dost think, I 
 warrant, that thou hast lost somew r hat of our regard by 
 thy boldly declining this unpleasant task. — But no, 
 Maurice ! I rather honour thee for thy virtuous con- 
 stancy. There are things most necessary to be done, the 
 perpetrator of which we neither love nor honour; 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 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 w r ho hath the keep- 
 ing 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!" 
 2b 
 
370 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 
 disordered steps. 
 
 "Bardon," said he, "what did Waldemar desire of 
 thee ? " 
 
 " Two resolute men, well acquainted with these northern 
 wilds, and skilful in tracking the tread of man and 
 horse." 
 
 " And thou hast fitted him ? " 
 
 "Let your Grace never trust me else," answered the 
 master of the spies. " One is from Hexhamshire ; he is 
 wont to trace the 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 Richmond." 
 
 " '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 Ralph 
 Middleton's gang; they, are called the Spears of Spying- 
 how." 
 
 " '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 not observe it, however. And let us know of his 
 motions from time to time, with whom he converses, 
 what he proposeth. Fail not in this, as thou wilt be 
 answerable." 
 
 Hugh 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, 371 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Arouse the tiger of Hyrcauian deserts, 
 Strive with the half-starved lion for his prey ; 
 Lesser the risk, than rouse the slumbering fire 
 Of wild fanaticism. 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
 Our tale now returns to Isaac of York. Mounted 
 upon a mule, the gift of the outlaw, with two tall yeomen 
 to act as his guard and guides, the Jew had set out for 
 the Preceptory of Templestowe, for the purpose of nego- 
 tiating his daughter's redemption. The Preceptory was 
 but a day's journey from the demolished castle of Tor- 
 quilstone, and the Jew had hoped to reach it before 
 nightfall ; accordingly, having dismissed his guides at the 
 verge of the forest, and rewarded them with a piece 
 of silver, he began to press on with such speed as his 
 weariness permitted him to exert. But his strength 
 failed him totally ere he had reached within four miles 
 of the Temple Court ; racking pains shot along his back 
 and through his limbs, and the excessive anguish which 
 he felt at heart being now augmented by bodily suffering, 
 he was rendered altogether incapable of proceeding 
 farther than a small market-town, w r here dw r elt a Jewish 
 Rabbi of his tribe, eminent in the medical profession, and 
 to whom Isaac was well known. Nathan ben Israel re- 
 ceived 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, he said, his life. But Isaac replied, that 
 more than life and death depended upon his going that 
 morning to Templestowe. 
 
372 IVANHOE. 
 
 "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 pa- 
 tient. "I grant thee, Nathan, that it is a dwelling of 
 those to whom the despised Children of the Promise are 
 a stumbling-block and an abomination ; yet thou know- 
 est that pressing affairs of traffic sometimes carry us 
 among these bloodthirsty Nazarene soldiers, and that we 
 visit the Preceptories of the Templars, as well as the 
 Commanderies of the Knights 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 Temple- 
 stowe ? " 
 
 " I know it not," said Isaac ; " our last letters from our 
 brethren at Paris avised us that he was at that city, be- 
 seeching Philip for aid against the Sultan Saladine." 
 
 " 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 slay- 
 ing for every point of the Nazarene law ; and our brethren 
 have termed him a fierce destroyer of the Saracens, and 
 a cruel tyrant to the Children of the Promise." 
 
 " And truly have they termed him," said Nathan the 
 physician. "Other Templars may be moved from the 
 purpose of their heart by pleasure, or bribed by promise 
 of gold and silver ; but Beaumanoir is of a different 
 stamp — hating sensuality, despising treasure, and press- 
 ing forward to that which they call the crown of martyr- 
 dom — the God of Jacob speedily send it unto him. and 
 unto them all ! Specially hath this proud, man extended 
 
IVAN-HOE. 373 
 
 his glove over the children of Judah, as holy David over 
 Edom, holding the murder of a Jew to be an offering of 
 as sweet savour as the death of a Saracen. Impious and 
 false things has he said even of the virtues of our medi- 
 cines, as if they were the devices of Satan — the Lord 
 rebuke him ! " 
 
 " Nevertheless," said Isaac, " I must present myself at 
 Templestowe, though he hath made his face like unto a 
 fiery furnace seven times heated." 
 
 He then explained to Nathan the pressing cause of his 
 journey. The Rabbi listened with interest, and testified 
 his sympathy after the fashion of his people, rending his 
 clothes and saying, "Ah, my daughter ! — ah, my daugh- 
 ter ! — 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-G-uilbert from the ill which he doth 
 meditate, and that he may deliver to me my beloved 
 daughter Eebecca." 
 
 " 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 
 to the house of thy father, and bring me word how it has 
 sped with thee ; and well do I hope thou wilt bring with 
 thee Rebecca, even the scholar of the wise Miriam, whose 
 cures the Gentiles 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 
 Templestowe. 
 
374 IVANHOE. 
 
 This establishment of the Templars was seated amidst 
 fair meadows and pastures, which the devotion of the 
 former Preceptor had bestowed upon their Order. It was 
 strong and well fortified, a point never neglected by 
 these knights, and which the disordered state of England 
 rendered peculiarly necessary. Two halberdiers, clad in 
 black, guarded the drawbridge, and others, in the same 
 sad livery, glided to and fro upon the walls with a fune- 
 real pace, resembling spectres more than soldiers. The 
 inferior officers of the Order were thus dressed, ever since 
 their use of white garments, similar to those of the 
 knights and esquires, had given rise to a combination of 
 certain false brethren in the mountains of Palestine, 
 terming themselves Templars, and bringing great dis- 
 honour on the Order. A knight was now and then seen 
 to cross the court in his long white cloak, his head de- 
 pressed 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 
 rigour of the Temple discipline, which had been so 
 long exchanged for prodigal and licentious indulgence, 
 seemed at once to have revived at Templestowe under 
 the severe eye of Lucas Beaumanoir. 
 
 Isaac paused at the gate, to consider how he might 
 seek entrance in the manner most likely to bespeak 
 favour ; for he was well aware that to his unhappy race 
 t:\e reviving fanaticism of the Order was not less danger- 
 ous than their unprincipled licentiousness ; and that his 
 religion would be the object of hate and persecution in 
 the one case, as his wealth would have exposed him in 
 the other to the extortions of unrelenting oppression. 
 
 Meantime, Lucas 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. 
 
IVANHOE. 375 
 
 The Grand Master was a man advanced in age, as was 
 testified by his long grey beard, and the shaggy grey eye- 
 brows, overhanging eyes of which, however, years had 
 been unable to quench the tire. A formidable warrior, 
 his thin and severe features retained the soldier's fierce- 
 ness 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 se- 
 verer traits of physiognomy, there was mixed somewhat 
 striking and noble, arising, doubtless, from the great 
 part which his high office called upon him to act among 
 monarchs and princes, and from the habitual exercise of 
 supreme authority over the valiant and high-born knights 
 who were united by the rules of the Order. His stature 
 was tall, and his gait, undepressed by age and toil, was 
 erect and stately. His white mantle was shaped with 
 severe regularity, according to the rule of St. Bernard 
 himself, being composed of what was then called 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 Mas- 
 ter, as permitted by the rules, wore his doublet lined and 
 trimmed with the softest lambskin, dressed with the 
 wool outwards, which was the nearest approach he could 
 regularly make to the use of fur, then the greatest luxury 
 of dress. In his hand he bore that singular abacus, or 
 staff of office, with which Templars 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 superior showed that no other equality subsisted be- 
 tween 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 ] 
 
376 IVANUOE. 
 
 can confide my sorrows. To thee alone can I tell how 
 oft, since I came to this kingdom, I have desired to be 
 dissolved and to be with the just. Not one object in 
 England hath met mine eye which it could rest upon 
 with pleasure, save the tombs of our brethren, beneath 
 the massive roof of our Temple Church in yonder proud 
 capital. ' valiant Robert de Ros ! ' did I exclaim in 
 ternally, as I gazed upon these good soldiers of the Cross, 
 where they lie sculptured on their sepulchres — ' 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 France." 
 
 " 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 my Order, striving with devils em- 
 bodied 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 mar- 
 row of my bones — by that very Holy Temple I swear to 
 thee, that save thyself and some few that still retain the 
 ancient severity of our Order, I look upon no brethren 
 whom I can bring my soul to embrace under that holy 
 name. What say our statutes, and how do our brethren 
 observe them ? They should wear no vain or worldly 
 ornament, no crest upon their helmet, no gold upon stirrup 
 or bridle-bit ; yet who now go pranked 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 
 
IVANHOE. 377 
 
 river, who so prompt as the Templars in all these fond 
 vanities ? They are forbidden to read, save what their 
 superior permitted, or listen to what is read, save such 
 holy things as may be recited aloud during the hours of 
 refection ; but lo ! their hearts are at the command of 
 idle minstrels, and their eyes study empty romaunts. 
 They were commanded to extirpate magic and heresy; 
 lo ! they are charged with studying the accursed caba- 
 listical secrets of the Jews, and the magic of the paynim 
 Saracens. Simpleness of diet was prescribed to them — 
 roots, pottage, gruels, eating flesh but thrice a week, be- 
 cause the accustomed feeding on flesh is a dishonourable 
 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 relaxa- 
 tion of discipline stopped even here ! — Well thou know- 
 est that we were forbidden 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 copestone which our blessed founder placed 
 on the pure and undefiled doctrine which he had enjoined, 
 we are prohibited from offering, even to our sisters and 
 our mothers, the kiss of affection : id 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 en- 
 joyment 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. 'Beauma- 
 
378 IVANHOE. 
 
 noir,' 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 heathen, and more 
 accursed Jew. Beaumanoir, thou sleepest ; up, and 
 avenge our cause ! Slay the sinners, male and female ! 
 Take to thee the brand of Phineas ! ' — The vision fled, Con- 
 rade, but as I awaked I could still hear the clank of their 
 mail, and see the waving of their white mantles. — And I 
 will do according to their word ; I will purify the fabric 
 of the Temple ; and the unclean stones in which the plague 
 is, I will remove and cast out of the building." 
 
 " Yet bethink thee, reverend father," said Mont-Fitchet, 
 "the stain hath become engrained by time and consuetude; 
 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 
 predecessors made us powerful friends — our presumption, 
 our wealth, our luxury have raised up against us mighty 
 enemies. We must cast away these riches, which are a 
 temptation to princes — we must lay down that presump- 
 tion, which is an offence to them — we must reform that 
 licence of manners, which is a scandal to the whole 
 Christian world ! Or — mark my words — the Order of 
 the Temple will be utterly demolished, and the place 
 thereof shall no more be known among the nations." 
 
 " Now may God avert such a calamity ! " said the 
 Preceptor. 
 
 "Amen," said the Grand Master, with solemnity, "but 
 we must deserve His aid. I tell thee, Conrade, that 
 neither the powers in Heaven, nor the powers on earth, 
 will longer endure the wickedness of this generation. 
 My intelligence is sure — the ground on which our fabric 
 is reared is already undermined, and each addition we 
 make to the structure of our greatness will only sink it 
 the sooner in the abyss. We must retrace our steps, and 
 
IVANHOE. 379 
 
 show ourselves the faithful Champions of the Cross, 
 sacrificing to our calling not alone our blood and our lives, 
 not alone our lusts and our vices, but our ease, our com- 
 forts, and our natural affections, and act as men convinced 
 that many a pleasure which may be lawful to others is 
 forbidden to the avowed soldier of the Temple." 
 
 At this moment a squire, clothed in a threadbare vest- 
 ment (for the aspirants after this Holy Order wore during 
 their noviciate 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 presumed to tell his errand. 
 
 " Is it not more seemly," said the Grand Master, " to 
 see this Damian, clothed in the garments of Christian 
 humility, thus appear with reverend silence before his 
 superior, than but two days since, when the fond fool 
 was decked in a painted coat, and jangling as pert and 
 as proud as any popinjay ? — Speak, 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 
 according to his own will, but to that of his Master, even 
 according to the text, i In the hearing of the ear he hath 
 obeyed me.' It imports us especially to know of this 
 Bois-Guilbert's proceedings," said he, turning to his 
 companion. 
 
 " Report speaks him brave and valiant," said Conrade. 
 
 "And truly is he so spoken of," said the Grand Master; 
 "in our valour only we are not degenerated from our 
 predecessors, the heroes of the Cross. But brother Brian 
 came into our Order a moody and disappointed man, 
 stirred, I doubt me, to take our vows and to renounce the 
 world, not in sincerity of soul, but as one whom some 
 touch of light discontent had driven into penitence. Since 
 then he hath become an active and earnest agitator, a 
 murmurer, and a machinator, and a leader amongst those 
 
380 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 infirmi- 
 ties of the weak — the rod to correct the faults of delin- 
 quents. — Damian," he continued, "lead the Jew to our 
 presence." 
 
 The squire departed with a profound reverence, and in 
 a few minutes returned, marshalling in Isaac of York. 
 No naked slave, ushered into the presence of some 
 mighty prince, could approach his judgment-seat with 
 more profound reverence and terror than that with 
 which the Jew 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 the 
 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 upon any one. Wherefore be brief in thy 
 answers to what questions I shall ask thee, and let thy 
 words be of truth ; for if, thy tongue doubles with me, I 
 will have it torn from thy misbelieving jaws." 
 
 The Jew was about to reply; but the Grand Master 
 went on. 
 
 " Peace, unbeliever ! not a word in our presence, save 
 in answer to our questions. — What is thy business with 
 our brother Brian de Bois-Guilbert ? " 
 
 Isaac gasped with terror and uncertainty. To tell his 
 tale might be interpreted into scandalising the Order; 
 yet, unless he told it, what hope could he have of achiev- 
 ing his daughter's deliverance ? Beaumanoir saw his 
 mortal apprehension, and condescended to give him some 
 assurance. 
 

 \\ 
 
 
 ^Uffm^*:: 
 
 
 T^>3>ck . docjj Odtd WTe- (^Li-andl £)Qflisler -, 
 
IVAN-HOE. 381 
 
 " Fear nothing," he said, " for thy wretched person, 
 Jew, so thou dealest uprightly in this matter. I demand 
 again to know from thee thy business with Brian de 
 Bois-Guilbert ? " 
 
 " I am bearer of a letter," stammered out the Jew, " so 
 please your reverend valour, to that good knight, from 
 Prior Aymer of the Abbey of Jorvaulx." 
 
 " Said I not these were evil times, Conrade ? " said the 
 Master. " A Cistercian Prior sends a letter to a soldier 
 of the Temple, and can find no more fitting messenger 
 than an unbelieving Jew. — Give me the letter." 
 
 The Jew, with trembling hands, undid the folds of his 
 Armenian cap, in which he had deposited the Prior's 
 tablets for the greater security, and was about to approach, 
 with hand extended and body crouched, to place it within 
 the reach of his grim interrogator. 
 
 " Back, dog ! " said the Grand Master ; " I touch not 
 misbelievers, save with the sword. — 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. "Reverend 
 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 
 Literantm, 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. " Read it aloud, Conrade," said the 
 
382 IVANHOE. 
 
 Grand Master ; and do thou (to Isaac) attend to the pur- 
 port 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 Cistercian 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 con- 
 dition, dear Brother, we are a captive in the hands of certain law- 
 less 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 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 entreat- 
 ing, 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 Icetificat cor hominis ; and again, Bex delectabitur 
 pulchritudine tua. 
 
 "Till which merry meeting, we wish you farewell. Given from 
 this den of thieves, about the hour of matins, 
 
 " Aymer Pr. S. M. Jorvolciencis. 
 
 "Postscriptum. — Truly your golden chain hath not long abidden 
 with me, and will now sustain, around the neck of an outlaw deer- 
 stealer, the whistle wherewith he calleth on his hounds." 
 
 " What sayest thou to this, 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, 
 
IVANHOE. 383 
 
 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 tow- 
 ard those whom they loved par amours; but the expla- 
 nation did not satisfy the bigoted Beaumanoir. 
 
 " 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 ? " 
 
 "Ay, reverend valorous sir," stammered poor Isaac, 
 " and whatsoever ransom a poor man may pay for her de- 
 liverance " 
 
 " Peace ! " said the Grand Master. " This thy daughter 
 hath practised the art of healing, hath she not ? " 
 
 " Ay, gracious sir," answered the Jew, with more 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 devour- 
 ing 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, 
 Seinper percutiatur leo vorxtns. — Upon the lion ! Down 
 with the destroyer ! " said he, shaking aloft his mystic 
 abacus, as if in defiance of the powers of darkness. 
 " Thy daughter worketh the cures, I doubt not," thus he 
 went on to address the Jew, "by words and sigils, and 
 periapts, and other cabalistical mysteries." 
 
 "Nay, reverend and brave knight," answered Isaac, 
 " but in chief measure by a balsam of marvellous virtue." 
 
 "Where had she that secret?" said 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 
 
384 IVANHOE. 
 
 from that same witch Miriam, the abomination of whose 
 enchantments have been heard of throughout every Chris- 
 tian land ? " exclaimed the Grand Master, crossing him- 
 self. " Her body was burnt at a stake, and her ashes 
 were scattered to the four winds ; and so be it with me 
 and mine Order, if I do not as much to her pupil, and more 
 also ! I will teach her to throw 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 Christian law and our own high office warrant." 
 
 Poor Isaac was hurried off accordingly, and expelled 
 from the Preceptory, all his entreaties, and even his 
 offers, unheard and disregarded. He could do no better 
 than return to the house of the Rabbi, and endeavour, 
 through his means, to learn how his daughter was to be 
 disposed of. He had hitherto feared for her honour ; 
 he was now to tremble for her life. Meanwhile, the 
 Grand Master ordered to his presence the Preceptor of 
 Templestowe. 
 
 CHAPTER 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 ride, 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 showing 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 
 Dccasionally 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 
 
IVANHOE. 385 
 
 from the audacious Bois-Guilbert, that he knew how to 
 throw over his vices and his ambition the veil of hypoc- 
 risy, 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 an} r relaxation of discipline. And, even although 
 surprised, and to a certain extent detected, Albert Mal- 
 voisin listened with such respect and apparent contrition 
 to the rebuke of his superior, and made such haste to 
 reform the particulars 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 appear- 
 ance of the establishment had inclined him to adopt. 
 
 But these favourable sentiments on the part of the 
 Grand 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 Orden; 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 Bebecca had been confined in a 
 remote and secret part of the building, and every pre- 
 caution 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 
 2c 
 
386 IVANHOE. 
 
 rule: De commilitonibus Templi in sancta civitate, qui 
 cum miserrimis mulieribus versantur, propter oblectationem 
 carnis ? " 
 
 " Surely, most reverend father," answered the Precep- 
 tor, " 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 Rebecca, the daughter of that wretched usurer 
 Isaac of York, and the pupil of the foul witch Miriam, 
 is now — 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 J received into this house 
 merely to place a bar betwixt their growing intimacy, 
 which else might have been cemented at the expense of 
 the fall of our valiant and religious brother." 
 
 " Hath nothing, then, as yet passed betwixt them in 
 breach of his vow ? " demanded the Grand Master. 
 
 " What ! under this roof ? " said the Preceptor, cross- 
 ing himself ; " St. Magdalene and the ten thousand vir- 
 gins 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 enamoured folly." 
 
 " It doth ! — it doth ! " said Beaumanoir. " See, brother 
 Conrade, the peril of yielding to the first devices and 
 
IVANHOE. 387 
 
 blandishments of Satan ! We look upon woman only to 
 gratify the lust of the eye, and to take pleasure in what 
 men call her beauty ; and the ancient Enemy, the 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 hun- 
 dred Saracens hath this Brian de Bois-Guilbert slain with 
 his 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 
 with their aid will we counteract the spells and charms 
 with which our brother is entwined as in a net. He shall 
 burst the bands of this Delilah as Samson burst the two 
 new cords with which the Philistines had bound him, and 
 shall slaughter the infidels, even heaps upon heaps. But 
 concerning this foul witch, who hath flung her enchant- 
 ments 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 resent- 
 ment, 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 the Preceptory of his Order ? No ! we 
 will judge and condemn. The witch shall be taken out 
 of the land, and the wickedness thereof shall be forgiven. 
 Prepare the Castle hall for the trial of the sorceress." 
 
38G 1VANH0E. 
 
 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 sus- 
 tained from the fair Jewess. " The unthinking," he 
 said, "the ungrateful, to scorn him who, amidst blood 
 and names, 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 armour 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 gratitude, but even the most 
 distant hope that ever she will be brought to grant any. 
 The devil, that possessed her race with obstinacy, has 
 concentrated its full force in her single person ! " 
 
 " The devil," said the Preceptor, " I think, possessed 
 you both. How oft have I preached to you caution, if 
 not continence ? Did I not tell you that there were 
 enough willing Christian damsels to be met with, who 
 would think it sin to refuse so brave a knight le don 
 (Pamoureux merci, and you must needs anchor your affec- 
 tion on a wilful, obstinate Jewess ! By the mass, I think 
 old Lucas Beaumanoir guesses right, when he maintains 
 she hath cast a spell over you." 
 
 " Lucas Beaumanoir ? " said Bois-Guilbert, reproach- 
 fully. "Are these your precautions, Malvoisin? Hast 
 thou suffered the dotard to learn that Rebecca 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 the devil or no, the devil only 
 can tell. But I have turned the matter as I could ; you 
 are safe if you renounce Rebecca. You are pitied — the 
 victim of magical delusion. She is a sorceress, and must 
 suffer as such." 
 
 " She shall not, by Heaven ! " said Bois-Guilbert. 
 
IVANHOE. 389 
 
 "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 sufficient 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 Mas- 
 ter, 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 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 honours, all 
 depend on thy place in the Order. Shouldst thou adhere 
 perversely to thy passion for this Rebecca, thou wilt 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 stretch- 
 est thy bold hand towards it. Doubt not he will ruin 
 thee, if thou affordest him a pretext so fair as thy pro- 
 tection 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 
 
390 IVANHOE. 
 
 daughters of Judah, or burn them, as may best suit thine 
 own humour." 
 
 "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, that 
 thou canst not save Rebecca. 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 you 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 enchantress ; 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 brill- 
 iant 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 honour for her sake. I will cast her off ; yes, 
 I will leave her to her fate, unless " 
 
 " Qualify not thy wise and necessary resolution," said 
 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." 
 
IVANHOE. 391 
 
 " Rebecca," said Bois-Guilbert, when lie 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 in- 
 gratitude ! for, if I am again repulsed, my vengeance 
 shall equal my love. The life and honour 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 brethren 
 regard him ; but all this will not avail him with our 
 Grand Master, should he consider Brian as the accom- 
 plice, 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 ? " 
 
 " They must be strengthened, Albert," replied Mont- 
 Fitchet — "they must be strengthened. Dost thou un- 
 derstand 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 
 
392 IVANHOE. 
 
 will it advantage both the Order and thee. This Tempie- 
 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 sayst 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 Philp de Mal- 
 voisin, and passed from his service to that of Front-de- 
 Boeuf . — It may be they know something of the witch- 
 eries 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 
 sorceress, 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 
 circumstance rather gave her joy ; for she was more 
 afraid of the solitary visits of the fierce and passionate 
 Bois-Guilbert than of any «vil that could befall her be- 
 sides. The door of the chamber was unlocked, and 
 Conrade and the Preceptor Malvoisin entered, attended 
 by four warders clothed in black, and bearing halberds. 
 
 " Daughter of an accursed race ! " said the Preceptor, 
 " arise and follow us." 
 
 " Whither," said Rebecca, " and for what purpose ? " 
 
 "Damsel," answered Conrade, "it is not for thee to 
 question, but to obey. Nevertheless, be it known to thee 
 that thou art to be brought before the tribunal of the 
 Grand Master of our Holy Order, there to answer for 
 thine offences." 
 
 " May the God of Abraham be praised ! " said Rebecca, 
 
IVANHOE. 393 
 
 folding her hands devoutly; "the name of a judge, 
 though an enemy to my people, is to me as the name of 
 a protector. Most willingly do I follow thee ; permit me 
 only to wrap my veil around my head." 
 
 They descended the stair with slow and solemn step, 
 traversed a long gallery, and, by a pair of folding-doors 
 placed at the end, entered the great hall in which the 
 Grand Master had for the time established his court of 
 justice. 
 
 The lower part of this ample apartment was filled 
 with squires and yeomen, who made way, not without 
 some difficulty, for Rebecca, attended by the Preceptor 
 and Mont-Fitchet, and followed by the guard of halber- 
 diers, to move forward to the seat appointed for her. As 
 she passed through the crowd, her arms folded and her 
 head depressed, a scrap of paper was thrust into her 
 hand, which she received almost unconsciously, and 
 continued to hold without examining its contents. The 
 assurance that she possessed some friend in this awful 
 assembly gave her courage to look around, and to mark 
 into whose presence she had been conducted. She 
 gazed, accordingly, upon the scene, which we shall 
 endeavour to describe in the next chapter. 
 
 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 call'd 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 honour, destined 
 to be occupied by the most distinguished inhabitants or 
 guests of an ancient mansion. 
 
394 IVANHOE. 
 
 On an elevated seat, directly before the accused, sat 
 the Grand Master of the Temple, in full and ample robes 
 of flowing white, holding in his hand the mystic staff 
 which bore the symbol of the Order. At his feet was 
 placed a table, occupied by two scribes, chaplains of the 
 Order, whose duty it was to reduce to formal record the 
 proceedings of the day. The black dresses, bare scalps, 
 and demure looks of these churchmen formed a strong 
 contrast to the warlike appearance of the knights who 
 attended, either as residing in the Preceptory or as come 
 thither to attend upon their Grand Master. The Precep- 
 tors of whom there were four present, occupied seats 
 lower in height and somewhat drawn back behind that 
 of their superior; and the knights who enjoyed no such 
 rank in the Order were placed on benches still lower, and 
 preserving the same distance from the Preceptors as 
 these from the Grand Master. Behind them, but still 
 upon the dais or elevated portion of the hall, stood the 
 esquires of the Order, in white dresses of an inferior 
 quality. 
 
 The whole assembly wore an aspect of the most pro- 
 found gravity ; and in the faces of the knights might be 
 perceived traces of military daring, united with the sol- 
 emn carriage becoming men of a religious profession, and 
 which, in the presence of their Grand Master, failed not 
 to sit upon eveiy 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, con- 
 nected with the Order, and were accordingly distinguished 
 by their black dresses. But peasants from the neighbour- 
 ing country were not refused admittance ; for it was the 
 pride of Beaumanoir 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 
 
IVANHOE. 395 
 
 himself accompanied with a deep mellow voice, which 
 age had not deprived of its powers, commenced the pro- 
 ceedings of the day ; and the solemn sounds, Venite, ex- 
 ultemus Domino, so often sung by the Templars before 
 engaging with earthly adversaries, was judged by Lucas 
 most appropriate to introduce the approaching triumph, 
 for such he deemed it, over the powers of darkness. The 
 deep prolonged notes, raised by a hundred masculine 
 voices accustomed to combine in the choral chant, arose 
 to the vaulted roof of the hall, and rolled on amongst its 
 arches with the pleasing yet solemn sound of the rush- 
 ing 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 stauding near the extreme corner 
 of one of the benches occupied by the Knights Compan- 
 ions 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 fa- 
 vouring 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 world, bring a valiant and worthy 
 knight ! — Seest thou he cannot look upon us ; he can- 
 not 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 percutiatur I " 
 
 This was communicated apart to his confidential fol- 
 lower, Conrade Mont-Fitchet. The Grand Master then 
 raised his voice and addressed the assembly. 
 
 "Reverend and valiant men, Knights, Preceptors, and 
 Companions of this Holy Order, my brethren and my 
 children ! — you also, well-born and pious esquires, who 
 
396 IVANHOE. 
 
 aspire to wear this Holy Cross ! — and you also, Christian 
 brethren, of every degree ! — be it known to you, that 
 it is not defect of power in us which hath occasioned 
 the assembling of this congregation; for, however un- 
 worthy in our person, yet to us 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 council, save at the will 
 and command of the Master; leaving it free to us, as to 
 those more worthy fathers who have preceded us in 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 
 kind shepherd to call his comrades together, that with 
 bows and slings they may quell the invader, according 
 to our well-known rule, that the lion is ever to be beaten 
 down. We have therefore summoned to our presence a 
 Jewish woman, by name Rebecca, daughter of Isaac of 
 York — a woman infamous for sortileges and for witch- 
 eries ; whereby she hath maddened the blood, and be- 
 sotted the brain, not of a churl, but of a Knight — not 
 of a secular Knight, but of one devoted to the service of 
 the Holy Temple — not of a Knight Companion, but 
 of a Preceptor of our Order, first in honour as in place. 
 Our brother, Brian de Bois-GJ-uilbert, is well known to 
 ourselves, and to all degrees who now hear me, as a true 
 and zealous champion of the Cross, by whose arm many 
 deeds of valour have been wrought in the Holy Land, 
 and the holy places purified from pollution by the blood 
 of those infidels who defiled them. Neither have our 
 brother's sagacity and prudence been less in repute among 
 his brethren than his valour and discipline ; insomuch 
 that knights, both in eastern and western lands, have 
 named De Bois-Guilbert as one who may well be put 
 
IVANHOE. 397 
 
 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 honoured, and so 
 honourable, suddenly casting away regard for his char- 
 acter, 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, valour, 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 
 transgression against the rule of our blessed Order in 
 this lamentable history — 1st, He hath walked accord- 
 ing to his proper will, contrary to capital 33, Quod 
 nullus juxta propriam voluntatem incedat — 2d, He hath 
 held communication with an excommunicated person, 
 capital 57, Ut ft -aires non participent cum excommunicatis, 
 and therefore hath a portion in Anathema Maranatha — 
 3d, He hath conversed with strange women, contrary to 
 the capital, Ut fratres non conversentur cum extraneis 
 mulieribus — 4th, He hath not avoided, nay, he hath, it 
 is to be feared, solicited, the kiss of woman, by which, 
 saith the last rule of our renowned Order, Ut fugiantur 
 oscida, the soldiers of the Cross are brought into a 
 snare. For which heinous and multiplied guilt, Brian 
 de Bois-Guilbert should be cut off and cast out from our 
 congregation, were he the right hand and right eye 
 thereof." 
 
 He paused. A low murmur went through the assem- 
 bly. Some of the younger part, who had been inclined 
 to smile at the statute, 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 
 
398 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 ob- 
 tained dominion over the Knight, perchance because he 
 cast his eyes too lightly upon a damsel's beauty, we are 
 then rather to lament than chastise his backsliding ; and, 
 imposing on him only such penance as may purify him 
 from his iniquity, we are to turn the full edge of our 
 indignation upon the accursed instrument, which had 
 so well-nigh occasioned his utter falling away. — Stand 
 forth, therefore, and bear witness, ye who have witnessed 
 these unhappy doings, that we may judge of the sum and 
 bearing thereof; and judge whether our justice may be 
 satisfied with the punishment of this infidel woman, or 
 if we must go on, with a bleeding heart, to the further 
 proceeding against our brother." 
 
 Several witnesses were called upon to prove the risks 
 to which Bois-Guilbert exposed himself in endeavouring 
 to save Rebecca from the blazing castle, and his neglect 
 of his personal defence 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 marvellous was greatly increased by the satisfaction 
 which their evidence seemed to afford to the eminent 
 person for whose information it had been delivered. 
 Thus the dangers which Bois-Guilbert surmounted, in 
 themselves sufficiently great, became portentous in their 
 narrative. The devotion of the Knight to Rebecca's de- 
 fence was exaggerated beyond the bounds not only of 
 discretion, but even of the most frantic excess of chival- 
 rous zeal; and his deference to what she said, even al- 
 though her language was often severe and upbraiding, 
 was painted as carried to an excess which, in a man of 
 his haughty temper, seemed almost preternatural. 
 
 The Preceptor of Templestowe was then called on tc 
 describe the manner in which Bois-Guilbert and the 
 Jewess arrived at the Preceptory. The evidence of 
 Malvoisin was skilfully guarded. But while he appar- 
 ently studied to spare the feelings of Bois-Guilbert, he 
 
IVANHOE. 399 
 
 threw in, from time to time, such hints as seemed to 
 infer that he laboured under some temporary alienation 
 of mind, so deeply did he appear to be enamoured of the 
 damsel whom he brought along with him. With sighs 
 of penitence, the Preceptor avowed his own contrition 
 for having admitted Rebecca and her lover within the 
 walls of the Preceptory. " But my defence," he con- 
 cluded, "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 irregu- 
 lar. 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 
 precipitate 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 accomplishing 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 
 conversation of this woman, specially that we may dis- 
 cover 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 pres- 
 ent ; the other three were Conrade, Malvoisin, and Bois- 
 Guilbert himself. Herman was an ancient warrior, whose 
 face was marked with scars inflicted by the sabre of the 
 Moslemah, and had great rank and consideration among 
 
400 IVANHOE. 
 
 his brethren. He arose and bowed to the Grand Mas- 
 ter, who instantly granted him license of speech. "I 
 would crave to know, most reverend father, of our val- 
 iant brother, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, what he says to 
 these wondrous accusations, and with what eye he him- 
 self now regards his unhappy intercourse with this Jew- 
 ish maiden ? " 
 
 " Brian de Bois-Guilbert,'' said the Grand Master, 
 " thou nearest the question which our Brother of Goodal- 
 ricke desirest thou shouldst answer. I command thee 
 to reply to him." 
 
 Bois-Guilbert turned his head towards 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, I 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 reverend 
 father, to such wild and vague charges. If his honour 
 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 Mas- 
 ter ; " 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 our pardon, judging thou speak - 
 est 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 im- 
 perfectly answered, pursue we our quest, brethren, and 
 with our patron's assistance we will search to the bottom 
 this mystery of iniquity. Let those who have aught to 
 witness of the life and conversation of this Jewish woman 
 stand forth before us." 
 
IVANHOE. 401 
 
 There was a bustle in the lower part of the hall, and 
 when the Grand Master inquired the reason, it was re- 
 plied, 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 for- 
 ward 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 cer- 
 tainly 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 labouring 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 Re- 
 becca's directions, and especially a warming and spicy- 
 smelling balsam, had in some degree restored him to the 
 use of his limbs. Moreover, he said, she had given him 
 a pot of that precious ointment, and furnished him with 
 a piece of money withal, to return to the house of his 
 father, near to Templestowe. " 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 your labour to the 
 sons of mischief. I tell thee, the fiend can impose diseases 
 for the very purpose of removing them, in order to bring 
 into credit some diabolical fashion of cure. Hast thou 
 that 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 
 2d 
 
402 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 ? " 
 
 Two mediciners, as they call themselves, the one a 
 monk, the other a barber, appeared, and avouched they 
 knew nothing of the materials, excepting that they sa- 
 voured of myrrh and camphire, which they took to be 
 Oriental herbs. But with the true professional hatred to 
 a successful practitioner of their art, they insinuated that, 
 since the medicine was beyond their own knowledge, it 
 must necessarily have been compounded from an unlaw- 
 ful and magical pharmacopoeia; since they themselves, 
 though no conjurors, 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, the son of Snell," answered the peasant. 
 
 " Then, Higg, son of Snell," said the G-rand Master, " I 
 tell thee, it is better to be bedridden than to accept the 
 benefit of unbelievers' medicine that thou mayest arise 
 and walk ; better to despoil infidels of their treasure by 
 the strong hand than to accept of them benevolent gifts, 
 or do them service for wages. Go thou, and do as I have 
 said." 
 
 " Alack," said the peasant, " an it shall not displease 
 your Reverence, the lesson comes too late for me, for I 
 am but a maimed man ; but I will tell my two brethren, 
 who serve the rich rabbi Nathan ben Samuel that your 
 mastership says it is more lawful to rob him than to ren- 
 der him faithful service." 
 
 " Out with the prating villain ! " said Beaumanoir, 
 who was not prepared to refute this practical application 
 of his general maxim. 
 
 Higg, the son of Snell, withdrew into the crowd, but, 
 
TVANHOE. 403 
 
 interested in the fate of his benefactress, lingered until 
 he should learn her doom, even at the risk of again en- 
 countering the frown of that severe judge, the terror of 
 which withered his very heart within him. 
 
 At this period of the trial, the Grand Master com- 
 manded R-ebecca 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 alone in an assembly of stran- 
 gers. The sweet tones of her voice, and the softness of 
 her reply, impressed on the audience a sentiment of pity 
 and sympathy. But Beaumanoir, in whose mind the sup- 
 pression of each feeling of humanity which could interfere 
 with his imagined duty, was a virtue of itself, repeated his 
 commands 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 remem- 
 brance of your mothers, for the love of your sisters, and 
 of female decency, let me not be thus handled in your 
 presence ; it suits not a maiden to be disrobed by such 
 rude grooms. I will obey you," she added, with an ex- 
 pression 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 show 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 imagi- 
 nary witchcraft. But Higg, the son of Snell, felt most 
 deeply the effect produced by the sight of the counte- 
 nance of his benefactress. "Let me go forth," he said 
 to the warders at the door of the hall — " let me go forth ! 
 To look at her again will kill me, for I have had a share 
 in murdering her." 
 
 " Peace, poor man," said Rebecca, when she heard his 
 
404 IVANHOE. 
 
 exclamation — • " thou hast done me no harm by speaking 
 the truth ; thou canst not aid me by thy complaints or 
 lamentations. Peace, I pray thee — go home and save 
 thyself." 
 
 Higg was about to be thrust out by the compassion of 
 the warders, who were apprehensive lest his clamorous 
 grief should draw upon them reprehension, and upon 
 himself punishment. But he promised to be silent, and 
 was permitted to remain. The two men-at-arms, with 
 whom Albert Malvoisin had not failed to communicate 
 upon the import of their testimony, were now called for- 
 ward. Though both were hardened and inflexible vil- 
 lains, the sight of the captive maiden, as well as her 
 excelling beauty, at first appeared to stagger them ; but 
 an expressive glance from the Preceptor of Templestowe 
 restored them to their dogged composure ; and they de- 
 livered, with a precision which would have seemed sus- 
 picious to more impartial judges, circumstances either 
 altogether fictitious or trivial, and natural in themselves, 
 but rendered pregnant with suspicion by the exaggerated 
 manner in which they were told, and the sinister com- 
 mentary which the witnesses added to the facts. The 
 circumstances of their evidence would have been, in mod- 
 ern 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 mut- 
 ter to herself in an unknown tongue ; that the songs she 
 sung by fits were of a strangely sweet sound, which made 
 the ears of the hearer tingle and his heart throb ; that 
 she spoke at times to herself, and seemed to look upward 
 for a reply ; that her garments were of a strange and 
 mystic form, unlike those of women of good repute ; that 
 she had rings impressed with cabalistical devices, and 
 that strange characters were broidered on her veil. All 
 these circumstances, so natural and so trivial, were 
 gravely listened to as proofs, or at least as affording 
 strong suspicions, that Rebecca had unlawful corre- 
 spondence with mystical powers. 
 
IVANHOE. 405 
 
 But there was less equivocal testimony, wnich 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 Torquilstone. 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 square cross-bow bolt dis- 
 engaged 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 as- 
 sisting 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 real evidence in support of his 
 verbal testimony, he drew from his pouch the very bolt- 
 head which, according to his story, had been miraculously 
 extracted from the wound ; and as the iron weighed a full 
 ounce, it completely confirmed the tale, however marvel- 
 lous. 
 
 His comrade had been a witness from a neighbouring 
 battlement of the scene betwixt Rebecca 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 Rebecca perch herself 
 upon the parapet of the turret, and there take the form 
 of a milk-white swan, under which appearance she flitted 
 three times round the castle of 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 Rebecca's youth, though combined with the 
 most exquisite beauty. 
 
 The Grand Master had collected the suffrages, and now 
 in a solemn tone demanded of Rebecca what she had to 
 
406 IVANHOE. 
 
 say against the sentence of condemnation which he was 
 about to pronounce. 
 
 " To invoke your pity," said the lovely Jewess, with a 
 voice somewhat tremulous with emotion, " would, I am 
 aware, be as useless as I should hold it mean. To state, 
 that to relieve the sick and wounded of another religion 
 cannot be displeasing to the acknowledged Founder of 
 both our faiths, were also unavailing ; to plead, that many 
 things which these men — whom may Heaven pardon! — 
 have spoken against me are impossible, would avail me 
 but little, since you believe in their possibility ; and still 
 less would it advantage me to explain that the peculiarities 
 of my dress, language, and manners are those of my people 
 — I had well-nigh said of my country, but, alas ! we have 
 no country. Nor will I even vindicate myself at the ex- 
 pense of my oppressor, who stands there listening to the 
 fictions and surmises which seem to convert the tyrant 
 into the victim. — God be judge between him and me! but 
 rather would I submit to ten such deaths as your pleasure 
 may denounce against me than listen to the suit which 
 that man of Belial has urged upon me — friendless, de- 
 fenceless, 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-Guilbert, to thy- 
 self I appeal, whether these accusations are not false ? as 
 monstrous and calumnious as they are deadly ? " 
 
 There was a pause ; all 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 
 knighthood thou dost vaunt — by the honour of thy 
 mother — by the tomb and the bones of thy father — I 
 conjure thee to say, are these things true ? " 
 
 " Answer her, Brother," said the 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 
 
& 
 
 
 ^1 
 
 mm 
 
 • I' r 
 
 V 
 
 
 ^o thyself J Appeal * 
 
 
IVANHOE. 407 
 
 with a constrained voice that at last he replied, looking 
 to Rebecca : " 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 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 mur- 
 muring commentary 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 whisper had ceased, the Grand Master spoke. 
 
 " Rebecca, thou canst derive no benefit from the evi- 
 dence of this unhappy knight, for whom, as we well per- 
 ceive, the Enemy is yet too powerful. Hast thou aught 
 else to say ? " 
 
 "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 late — but I will not 
 cast away the gift of God while He affords me the means 
 of defending it. I deny this charge — I maintain my 
 innocence, and I declare the falsehood of this accusation 
 — I challenge the privilege of trial by combat, and will 
 appear by my champion." 
 
 " And who, Rebecca," replied the Grand Master, " will 
 lay lance in rest for a sorceress ? who will be the cham- 
 pion of a Jewess ? " 
 
 " God will raise me up a champion," said Rebecca. " It 
 cannot be that in merry England — the hospitable, the 
 generous, the free, where so many are ready to peril 
 their lives for honour, 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. 
 
408 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 There I throw my gage, 
 To prove it on thee to the extremest point 
 Of martial daring. 
 
 Bi chard 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 na- 
 ture cold, and with, a high, though mistaken, sense of 
 duty, his heart had been gradually hardened by the as- 
 cetic life which he pursued, the supreme power which 
 he enjoyed, and the supposed necessity of subduing infi- 
 delity and eradicating heresy which he conceived pecul- 
 iarly incumbent on him. His features relaxed in their 
 usual severity as he gazed upon the beautiful creature 
 before him, alone, unfriended, and defending herself with 
 so much spirit and courage. He crossed himself twice, 
 as doubting whence arose the unwonted softening of a 
 heart, which on such occasions used to resemble in hard- 
 ness 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 witchcrafts — turn thee from thy evil faith — em- 
 brace this holy emblem, and all shall yet be well with 
 thee here and hereafter. In some sisterhood of the strict- 
 est order shalt thou have time for prayer and fitting pen- 
 ance, 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 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." 
 
IVAXHOE. 409 
 
 "Let our chaplain," said Beaumanoir, "stand forth, 
 and tell this obstinate infidel " 
 
 "Forgive the interruption," said Rebecca, meekly; "I 
 arn a maiden, unskilled to dispute for my religion ; but 
 I can die for it, if it be God's will. — Let me pray your 
 answer to my demand of a champion." 
 
 " Give me her glove," said Beaumanoir. " This is in- 
 deed," 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 Rebecca, 
 "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 Rebecca. 
 
 " 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 the 
 trial by combat — but, though a Jewess and an unbe- 
 liever, 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 prof- 
 fered combat. Thus, therefore, stands the case : Rebecca, 
 the daughter of Isaac of York, is, by many frequent and 
 suspicious circumstances, defamed of sorcery practised 
 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 champion on the field ? " 
 
 " To Brian de Bois-Guilbert, whom it chiefly concerns/' 
 
410 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 tu Brian de 
 Bois-Guilbert. — It is our charge to thee, brother," he 
 continued, addressing himself to Bois-Guilbert, "that 
 thou do thy battle manfully, nothing doubting that the 
 good cause shall triumph. — And do thou, Rebecca, at- 
 tend, 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 honour 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 us on 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 
 Malvoisin, slipping the glove under his own niantlQ, 
 
IVANHOE. 411 
 
 " And for the place of combat, I hold the fittest to be 
 the lists of St. George belonging to this Preceptory, and 
 used by us for military exercise." 
 
 "It is well," said the Grand Master. "Rebecca, in 
 those lists shalt thou produce thy champion ; and if thou 
 failest to do so, or if thy champion shall be discomfited 
 by the judgment of God, thou shalt then die the death 
 of a sorceress, according to doom. — Let this our judg- 
 ment be recorded, and the record read aloud that no one 
 may pretend ignorance." 
 
 One of the chaplains who acted as clerks to the chapter 
 immediately engrossed the order in a huge volume, which 
 contained the proceedings of the Templar Knights when 
 solemnly assembled on such occasions ; and when he had 
 finished writing, the other read aloud the sentence of 
 the Grand Master, which, when translated from the 
 Norman-French in which it was couched, was expressed 
 as follows : 
 
 " Rebecca, a Jewess, daughter of Isaac of York, being attainted 
 of sorcery, seduction, and other damnable practices, practised 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 avouch her case, he 
 performing 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 ap- 
 pointed to do this battle in behalf of his Order and himself, as 
 injured and impaired by the practices of the appellant. Where- 
 fore the most reverend Father and puissant Lord, Lucas Marquis 
 of Beaumanoir, 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 inclosure called the lists of St. 
 George, near to the Preceptory of Templestowe. And the Grand 
 Master appointed the appellant to appear there by her champion, 
 on pain of doom, as a person convicted of sorcery or seduction ; 
 and also the defendant so to appear, under the penalty of being 
 held and adjudged recreant in case of default ; and the noble 
 Lord and most reverend Father aforesaid appointed the battle to 
 be done in his presence, and according to all that is commendable 
 and profitable in such a case. And may God aid the just cause I " 
 
412 1VANH0E. 
 
 " 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 minute without change of attitude. She then 
 modestly reminded the Grand Master that she ought to 
 be permitted some opportunity of free communication 
 with her friends, for the purpose of making her condi- 
 tion 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 
 presence 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 anx- 
 iety, 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- 
 strument. 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 in- 
 
IVANHOE. 413 
 
 spires 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 dis- 
 suaded 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 neighbour 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 nearly, discovered that one of them was his an- 
 cient employer, Isaac of York. The other was the Rabbi 
 ben Samuel ; and both had approached as near to the Pre- 
 ceptory as they dared, on hearing that the Grand Master 
 bad 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 ; 
 u thou canst deal with the Nazarenes as one possessing the 
 mammon of unrighteousness, and canst therefore purchase 
 immunity at their hands — it rules the savage minds of 
 those ungodly men, even as the signet of the mighty Sol- 
 omon was said to command the evil genii. — But what poor 
 wretch comes hither upon his crutches, desiring, as I think, 
 some speech of me ? — Friend," continued the physician, 
 addressing Higg, the son of Snell, " I refuse thee not the 
 aid of mine art, but I relieve not with one asper those who 
 beg for alms upon the highway. Out upon thee ! — Hast 
 thou the palsy in thy legs ? then let thy hands work for 
 thy livelihood ; for, albeit thou be'st unfit for a speedy 
 post, or for a careful shepherd, or for the warfare, or for 
 the service of a hasty master, yet there be occupations 
 
414 iVANHOE. 
 
 How now, brother ? " said he, interrupting his harangue 
 to look towards Isaac, who had but glanced at the scroll 
 which Higg offered, when, uttering a deep groan, he fell 
 from his mule like a dying man, and lay for a minute in- 
 sensible. 
 
 The Rabbi 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 
 suddenly revived ; but it was to dash his cap from his 
 head, and to throw dust on his grey 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 imple- 
 ments. But Isaac soon convinced him of his error. " Child 
 of my sorrow," he said, " well shouldst thou be called Be- 
 noni, instead of Rebecca! Why should thy death bring 
 down my grey hairs to the grave, till, in the bitterness of 
 my heart, I curse God and die ! " 
 
 "Brother," said the Rabbi, in great surprise, "art 
 thou a father in Israel, and dost thou utter words like 
 unto these? — I trust that the child of thy house yet 
 liveth?" 
 
 " She liveth," answered Isaac ; " but it is as Daniel, 
 who was called 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 favour. Oh ! she 
 was as a crown of green palms to my grey 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 ; " peradventure 
 it may be that we may yet find out a way of deliverance." 
 
 " Do thou read, brother," answered Isaac, " for mine 
 eyes are as a fountain of water." 
 
 The physician read, but in their native language, the 
 following words : 
 
IVANHOE. 415 
 
 " 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 father's God will give him strength to defend the 
 innocent, and her who hath none to help her. But if this may not 
 be, let the virgins of our people mourn for me as for one cast off, 
 and for the 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 there be any rescue. One 
 Nazarene warrior might indeed bear arms in my behalf, even Wil- 
 fred, son of Cedric, whom the Gentiles call Ivanhoe. But he may 
 not yet endure the weight of his armour. Nevertheless, send the 
 tidings unto him, my father ; for he hath favour 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 Rebecca live, or if Rebecca 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 be- 
 take thyself to Cordova, where thy brother liveth in safety, under 
 the shadow of the throne, even of the throne of Boabdil the Sara- 
 cen ; for less cruel are the cruelties of the Moors unto the race of 
 Jacob, than the cruelties of the Nazarenes of England." 
 
 Isaac listened with tolerable composure while Ben 
 Samuel read the letter, and then again resumed the ges- 
 tures and exclamations of Oriental sorrow, tearing his 
 garments, besprinkling his head with dust, and ejaculat- 
 ing, " My daughter ! my daughter ! flesh, of my flesh, 
 and bone of my bone ! " 
 
 " Yet," said the Rabbi, " take courage, for this grief 
 availeth nothing. Gird up thy loins, and seek out this 
 Wilfred, the son of Cedric. It may be he will help thee 
 with counsel or with strength ; for the youth hath favour 
 in the eyes of Richard, 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 dishonour thereof, 
 that they proceed not in their purposed wickedness." 
 
416 IVANHOE. 
 
 " I will seek him out," said Isaac, " for lie is a good 
 youth, and hath compassion for the exile of Jacob. But 
 he cannot bear his armour, and what other Christian 
 shall do battle for the oppressed of Zion ? " 
 
 "Nay, but," said the Rabbi, "thou speakest as one 
 that knoweth not the Gentiles. With gold shalt thou 
 buy their valour, even as with gold thou buyest thine 
 own safety. Be of good courage, and do thou set forward 
 to find out this Wilfred of Ivanhoe. I will also up and 
 be doing, for great sin it were to leave thee in thy calam- 
 ity. 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 
 fulfil, my brother, such promise as I may make unto 
 them in thy name ? " 
 
 "Assuredly, brother," said Isaac, "and Heaven be 
 praised that raised me up a comforter in my misery ! 
 Howbeit, grant them not their full demand at once, for 
 jhou shalt find it 'the quality of this accursed people that 
 they will ask pounds, and peradventure 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 
 several roads. The crippled peasant remained for some 
 time looking after them. 
 
 " These dog Jews ! " said he ; " to take no more notice 
 of a free guild-brother than if I were a bond slave or a 
 Turk, or a circumcised Hebrew like themselves ! They 
 might have flung me a mancus or two, however. I was 
 not obliged to bring their unhallowed scrawls, and run 
 the risk of being bewitched, as more folks than one told 
 me. And what care I for the bit of gold that the wench 
 gave me, if I am to come to harm from the priest next 
 Easter at confession, and be obliged to give him twice as 
 much to make it up with him, and be called the Jew's 
 
IVANHOE. 417 
 
 flying post all my life, as it may hap, into the bargain ? 
 I think I was bewitched in earnest when I was beside 
 that girl ! But it was always so with Jew or Gentile, 
 whosoever came near her — none could stay when she 
 had an errand to go ; and still, whenever I think of her. 
 I would give shop and tools to save her life." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 O maid, unrelenting and cold as thou art, 
 My bosom is proud as thine own. 
 
 Seward. 
 
 It was in the twilight of the day when her trial, if it 
 could be called such, had taken place, that a low knock 
 was heard at the door of Rebecca's prison-chamber. It 
 disturbed not the inmate, who was then engaged in the 
 evening prayer recommended by her religion, and which 
 concluded with a hymn we have ventured thus to trans- 
 late into English : 
 
 When Israel, of the Lord beloved, 
 
 Out of the land of bondage came, 
 Her fathers' 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. 
 
 There 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 portents now our foes amaze, 
 
 Forsaken Israel wanders lone ; 
 Our fathers would not know Thy ways, 
 
 And Thou 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. 
 2b 
 
418 1VANH0E. 
 
 A.nd 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 light I 
 
 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 
 apartment, " friend or foe, Rebecca, as the event of this 
 interview shall make me." 
 
 Alarmed at the sight of this man, whose licentious 
 passion she considered as the root of her misfortunes, 
 Rebecca drew backward with a cautious and- alarmed, yet 
 not a timorous, demeanour into the farthest corner of the 
 apartment, as if determined to retreat as far as she could, 
 but to stand her ground when retreat became no longer 
 possible. She drew herself into an attitude not of de- 
 fiance, but of resolution, #s one that would avoid provok- 
 ing 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 au- 
 thority. They are designed to conduct you to death, 
 
IVAN HOE. 419 
 
 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 
 sudden and open. A thrust with a lance, a stroke with 
 a sword, were to me little ; to you, a spring from a dizzy 
 battlement, a stroke with a sharp poniard, has no terrors, 
 compared with what either thinks disgrace. Mark me — 
 I say this — perhaps mine own sentiments of honour are 
 not less fantastic, Rebecca, than thine are ; but we know 
 alike how to die for them." 
 
 " Unhappy man," said the Jewess ; " and art thou 
 condemned to expose thy life for principles of which 
 thy sober judgment does not acknowledge the solidity ? 
 Surely this is a parting with your treasure for that 
 which is not bread. — But deem not so of me. Thy 
 resolution may fluctuate on the wild and changeful bil- 
 lows 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 exposed me." 
 
 " Think not," said the Templar, " that I have so ex- 
 posed thee; I would have bucklered thee against such 
 danger with my own bosom, as freely as ever I exposed 
 it to the shafts which had otherwise reached thy life." 
 
 " Had thy purpose been the honourable 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 
 
420 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 bat 
 terrible, and I have few moments to prepare for it." 
 
 " I perceive, Rebecca," said Bois-G-uilbert, " that thou 
 dost continue to burden me with the charge of distresses 
 which most fain would I have prevented." 
 
 " Sir Knight," said Rebecca, " 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 
 valour, and the praises yielded by fools to the stupid 
 self-torments of an ascetic, have raised for the present 
 above his own merits, above common sense, above me, 
 and above the hundreds of our Order who think and feel 
 as men free from such silly and fantastic prejudices as 
 are the grounds of his opinions and actions ? " 
 
 "Yet," said Rebecca,, "you sate a judge upon me; 
 innocent — most innocent — as you knew me to be, you 
 concurred in my condemnation ; and if I aright under- 
 stood, 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 
 
IVANHOE. 421 
 
 denizens of their own free independent state, must crouch 
 before strangers. It is our curse, Sir Knight, deserved, 
 doubtless, by our own misdeeds and those of our fathers ; 
 but you — you who boast your freedom as your birth- 
 right, how much deeper is your disgrace when you stoop 
 to soothe the prejudices of others, and that against your 
 own conviction ? n 
 
 " Your words are bitter, Rebecca," 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 circum- 
 stances may for a time induce him to alter his plan. His 
 will is the mountain stream, which may indeed be turned 
 for a little space aside by the rock, but fails not to find 
 its course to the ocean. That scroll which warned thee 
 to demand a champion, from whom couldst thou think it 
 came, if not from Bois-Guilbert ? In whom else couldst 
 thou have excited 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 Goodal- 
 ricke, who, being a Templar, affects to think and judge 
 according to the ordinary rules of humanity, the office of 
 the champion defender had devolved, not on a Preceptor, 
 but on a Companion of the Order. Then I myself — such 
 was my purpose — had, on the sounding of the trumpet, 
 appeared in the lists as thy champion, disguised indeed 
 in the fashion of a roving knight, who seeks adventures 
 to prove his shield and spear ; and then, let 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, Rebecca, should thine 
 innocence have been avouched, and to thine own gratitude 
 would I have trusted for the reward of my victory." 
 
 "This, Sir Knight," said Rebecca, "is but idle boast- 
 
422 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 dishonour ; 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 Rebecca ; " I understand thee not." 
 
 "Well, then," said Bois-G-uilbert, " I will speak as freely 
 as ever did doting penitent to his ghostly father, when 
 placed in the tricky confessional. — Rebecca, 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 suc- 
 ceeding 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. Ac- 
 cursed be he of Goodalricke, who baited this trap for 
 me ! and doubly accursed Albert de Malvoisin, who with- 
 held me from the resolution I had formed of hurling 
 back the glove at the face of the superstitious and super- 
 annuated fool who listened to a charge so absurd, and 
 against a creature so high in mind and so lovely in form 
 as thou art ! " 
 
 " And what now avails rant or flattery ? " answered 
 Rebecca. " Thou hast made thy choice between causing 
 to be shed the blood of an innocent woman, or of endan- 
 gering thine own earthly state and earthly hopes. — 
 What avails it to reckon together ? thy choice is made." 
 
 " No, Rebecca," said the knight, in a softer tone, and 
 drawing nearer towards her, " my choice is not made ; 
 nay, mark, it is thine to make the election. If I appear 
 in the lists, I must maintain my name in arms ; and 
 if I do so, championed or unchampioned, thou diest by the 
 stake and faggot, for there lives not the knight who hath 
 coped with me in arms on equal issue or on terms of van- 
 
IVANHOE. 423 
 
 tage, save Richard Coeur-de-Lion and his minion of Ivan- 
 hoe. Ivanhoe, as thou well knowest, is unable to bear 
 his corselet, 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 Re- 
 becca. 
 
 " 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 dishonoured knight, 
 accused of witchcraft and of communion with infidels — 
 the illustrious name which has grown yet more so under 
 my wearing, becomes a hissing and a reproach. I lose 
 fame — I lose honour — I lose the prospect of such great- 
 ness as scarce emperors attain to ; I sacrifice mighty am- 
 bition — I destroy schemes built as high as the mountains 
 with which heathen say their heaven was once nearly 
 scaled ; and yet, Rebecca," 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 honour to the Eng- 
 lish crown, allow of the proceedings of your Grand Mas- 
 ter. 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." 
 
424 IVANHOE. 
 
 " I weigh not these evils," said Rebecca, afraid to pro- 
 voke the wild knight, yet equally determined neither to 
 endure his passion nor even feign to endure it. u Be a 
 man, be a Christian ! If indeed thy faith recommends 
 that mercy which rather your tongues than your actions 
 pretend, save me from this dreadful death, without seek- 
 ing a requital which would change thy magnanimity into 
 base barter." 
 
 " No, damsel ! " said the proud Templar, springing up, 
 " thou shalt not thus impose on me — if I renounce pres- 
 ent 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 contemn. — I will form new paths to 
 greatness," he continued, again traversing the room with 
 hasty strides ; " Europe shall hear the loud step of him 
 she has driven from her sons ! — Not the millions whom 
 her crusaders send to slaughter can do so much to defend 
 Palestine ; not the sabres of the thousands and ten thou- 
 sands of Saracens can hew their way so deep into that 
 land for which nations are striving, as the strength and 
 policy of me and those brethren who, in despite of yonder 
 old bigot, will adhere to me in good and evil. Thou shalt 
 be a queen, Rebecca — on Mount Carmel shall we pitch 
 the throne which my valour will gain for you, and I will 
 exchange my long-desired batoon for a sceptre ! " 
 
 " 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 re- 
 ligious 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 pas- 
 sion for the daughter of another people. Put not a price 
 
IVANHOE. 425 
 
 on my deliverance, Sir Knight — sell not a deed of gen- 
 erosity — protect the oppressed for the sake of charity, 
 and not for a selfish advantage. — Go to the throne of 
 England ; Richard will listen to my appeal from these 
 cruel men." 
 
 " Never, Rebecca ! " said the Templar, fiercely. " If I 
 renounce my Order, for thee alone will I renounce it. 
 Ambition shall remain mine, if thou refuse my love ; I 
 will not be fooled on all hands. — Stoop my crest to Rich- 
 ard ? — ask a boon of that heart of pride ? Never, Re- 
 becca, will I place the Order of the Temple at his feet in 
 my person. I may forsake the Order ; I never will de- 
 grade or betray it." 
 
 "Now God be gracious to me," said Rebecca, "for the 
 succour of man is wellnigh hopeless ! " 
 
 " It is indeed," said the Templar ; " for, proud as thou 
 art, thou hast in me found thy match. If I enter the 
 lists with my spear in rest, think not any human consid- 
 eration 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 Tem- 
 plar, that not in thy fiercest battles hast thou displayed 
 more of thy vaunted courage than has been shown by 
 woman when called upon to suffer by affection or duty. 
 I am myself a woman, tenderly nurtured, naturally fear- 
 ful 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 
 
426 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 ter- 
 rible to the shivering and bankrupt debtor — this could 
 I wish, Eebecca, to be near to thee in life, and to escape 
 the fearful share I must have in thy death." 
 
 "Thou hast spoken the Jew," said Rebecca, "as the 
 persecution of such as thou art, hath 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. Read the ancient 
 history of the people of God, and tell me if those by whom 
 Jehovah wrought such marvels among the nations, were 
 then a people of misers and usurers ! And know, proud 
 knight, we number names amongst us to which your 
 boasted northern nobility is as the gourd compared with 
 the cedar — names that ascend far back to those high 
 times when the Divine Presence shook the mercy-seat 
 between the cherubim, and which derive their splendour 
 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." 
 
 Rebecca's colour rose as she boasted the ancient glories 
 of her race, but faded as she added, with a sigh : " Such 
 were the princes of Judah, now such no more ! — They are 
 trampled down like the shorn grass, and mixed with the 
 mire of the ways. Yet are there 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 thy blood- won honours ; I envy not thy bar- 
 barous descent from Northern heathens ; I envy thee not 
 thy faith, which is ever in thy mouth but never in thy 
 heart nor in thy practice." 
 
IVANHOE. 427 
 
 " There is a spell on me, by Heaven ! " said Bois- 
 Gnilbert. " I almost think yon besotted skeleton spoke 
 the truth, and that the reluctance with which I part 
 from thee hath something in it more than is natural. 
 Fair creature ! " he said, approaching nearer, but with 
 great respect, " so young, so beautiful, so fearless of 
 death ! and yet doomed to die, and with infamy and 
 agony. Who would not weep for thee ? — The tear that 
 has been a stranger to these eyelids for twenty years, 
 moistens them as I gaze on thee. But it must be — 
 nothing may now save thy life. Thou and I are but the 
 blind instruments of some irresistible fatality, that 
 hurries us along like goodly vessels driving before the 
 storm, which are dashed against each other, and so 
 perish. Forgive me, then, and let us part at least as 
 friends part. I have assailed thy resolution in vain, and 
 mine own is fixed as the adamantine decrees of fate." 
 
 " Thus," said 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, Rebecca, as thou hast 
 spoken me, untaught, untamed ; and proud that, amidst a 
 shoal of empty fools and crafty bigots, I have retained 
 the preeminent 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 for- 
 givest me, Rebecca ? " 
 
 " As freely as ever victim forgave her executioner." 
 
 "Farewell, then," said the Templar, and left the 
 apartment. 
 
 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 
 
428 IVANHOE. 
 
 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, Malvoisin, yonder girl hath wellnigh unmanned 
 me. I am half resolved to go to the Grand Master, 
 abjure the Order to his very teeth, and refuse to act the 
 brutality which his tyranny has imposed on me." 
 
 " Thou art mad," answered Malvoisin ; " thou mayst 
 thus indeed utterly ruin thyself, but canst not even find 
 a chance thereby to save the life of this Jewess, which 
 seems so precious in thine eyes. 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." 
 
 " 'Tis false ; I will myself take arms in her behalf," 
 answered 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 f orgettest," 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 despotic old man will leave thee in personal freedom. 
 The words shall scarce have left thy lips, ere thou wilt 
 either be an hundred feet 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 
 enjoying straw, darkness, and chains in some distant 
 convent cell, stunned with exorcisms, and drenched with 
 holy water, to expel the foul fiend "which hath obtained 
 dominion over thee. Thou must to the lists, Brian, or 
 thou art a lost and dishonoured man." 
 
 " I will break forth and fly," said Bois-Guilbert — " fly 
 to some distant land to which folly and fanaticism have 
 
IVANHOE. 429 
 
 not yet found their way. No drop of the blood of this 
 most excellent creature shall be spilled by my sanction." 
 
 " Thou canst not fly," said the Preceptor : " thy ravings 
 have excited suspicion, and thou wilt not be permitted to 
 leave the Preceptory. Go and make the essay — present 
 thyself before the gate, and command the bridge to be 
 lowered, and mark what answer thou shalt receive. — 
 Thou art surprised and offended ; but is it not better for 
 thee ? Wert thou to fly, what would ensue but the 
 reversal of thy arms, the dishonour of thine ancestry, the 
 degradation of thy rank ? — Think on it. Where shall 
 thine old companions in arms hide their heads when 
 Brian de Bois-Guilbert, the best lance of the Templars, 
 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 honour 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 strings 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 prove so," said the Precep- 
 tor; "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 commenda- 
 tion." 
 
 " True," said Bois-Guilbert ; " if no champion appears, 
 I am but a part of the pageant, sitting indeed on horse- 
 back 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." 
 
430 1VANHOE. 
 
 "Well, I will 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, I will appear in the lists." 
 
 He left the apartment hastily as he uttered these 
 words, and the Preceptor followed, to watch and confirm 
 him in his resolution; for in Bois-Guilbert's fame he 
 had himself a strong interest, expecting much advan- 
 tage 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 Rebecca. Yet al- 
 though, in combating his friend's better feelings, he pos- 
 sessed all the advantage which a wily, composed, selfish 
 disposition has over a man agitated by strong and con- 
 tending 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 
 endeavoured to show that, in appearing as champion on 
 this occasion, Bois-Guilbert, without either accelerating 
 or ensuring the fate of Rebecca, would follow the only 
 course by which he could save himself from degradation 
 and disgrace. 
 
 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 try sting- 
 tree of the generous outlaw, he held his way straight 
 to a neighbouring religious house, of small extent and 
 revenue, called the Priory of St. Botolph, to which the 
 
IVANHOE. 431 
 
 wounded Xvanhoe had been removed when the castle was 
 taken, under the guidance of the faithful Gurth and the 
 magnanimous Wamba. It is unnecessary at present to 
 mention what took place in the interim betwixt Wilfred 
 and his deliverer ; suffice it to say that, after long and 
 grave communication, messengers were 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 Tvanhoe, " at Coningsburgh, 
 the castle of the deceased Athelstane, since there thy 
 father Cedric holds the funeral feast for his noble rela- 
 tion. 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 reconcile thee to thy father." 
 
 So saying, he took an affectionate farewell of Ivanhoe, 
 who expressed an anxious desire to attend upon his de- 
 liverer. 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 humour." 
 
 " And I," said Wamba, " will attend you with all my 
 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 cupbearer; 
 and that were a sight worth seeing. Always, Sir Knight, 
 I will trust your valour with making my excuse to my 
 master Cedric, in case mine own wit should fail." 
 
 " And how should my poor valour 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 neigh- 
 bour's blind side, and knows how to keep the lee-gage 
 when his passions are blowing high. But valour is a 
 sturdy fellow, that makes all split. He rows against 
 both wind and tide, and makes way notwithstanding; 
 
432 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 show- 
 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 see the 
 Prior. The old man came in haste, and inquired anxiously 
 after the state of his health. 
 
 " It is better," he said, " than my fondest hope could 
 have anticipated ; either my wound has been slighter than 
 the effusion of blood led me to suppose, or this balsam 
 hath wrought a wonderful cure upon it. I feel already 
 as if I could bear my corselet ; and so much the better, 
 for thoughts pass in my mind which render me unwill- 
 ing 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 de- 
 parture ? " said the Prior. 
 
 "Have you never, holy father," answered the knight, 
 
IVANHOE. 433 
 
 u 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 well known that the Saxons love 
 not the Norman race, and who knows what may be the 
 issue if he break in upon them when their hearts are irri- 
 tated by the death of Athelstane, and their heads heated 
 by the carousal in which they will indulge themselves ? 
 I hold his entrance among them at such a moment most 
 perilous, and I am resolved to share or avert the danger ; 
 which, that I may the better do, I would crave of thee 
 the use of some palfrey whose pace may be softer than 
 that of my destrier." 
 
 " Surely," said the worthy churchman ; " you shall 
 have mine own ambling jennet, and I would it ambled as 
 easy for your sake as that of the Abbot of St. Alban's. 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 hornpipe amongst 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 edifi- 
 cation of my brethren of the convent and many poor 
 Christian souls." 
 
 " I pray you, reverend father," said Ivanhoe, " let Mal- 
 kin be got ready instantly, and bid Gurth attend me with 
 mine arms." 
 2f 
 
434 IYANHOE. 
 
 " Nay, but, fair sir," said the Prior, " I pray you to re- 
 member that Malkin hath as little skill iu 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 un- 
 due weight — I did but borrow the Fructus Temporum 
 from the priest of St. Bee's, and I promise you she would 
 not stir from the gate until I had exchanged the huge 
 volume for my little breviary." 
 
 " Trust me, holy father," said Ivanhoe, " I will not dis- 
 tress her with too much weight ; and if she calls a com- 
 bat 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 
 convincing any restive horse that best safety lay in being 
 conformable to the will of his rider. 
 
 The deep and sharp rowels with which Ivanhoe's heels 
 were now armed began to make the worthy Prior repent 
 of his courtesy and ejaculate: "Nay, but, fair sir, now I 
 bethink me, my Malkin abideth not the spur. Better it 
 were that you tarry for the mare of 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 firewood, and eateth no corn." 
 
 " I thank you, reverend father, but will abide by your 
 first offer, as I see Malkin is already led forth to the 
 gate. Gurth shall carry mine armour ; and for the rest, 
 rely on it that, as I will hot 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 jennet, eager to escape the importunity of the Prior, 
 who stuck as closely to his side as his age and fatness 
 would permit, now singing the praises of Malkin, now 
 recommending caution to the knight in managing her. 
 
 " She is at the most dangerous period for maidens as 
 well as mares," said the old man, laughing at his own 
 jest, " being barely in her fifteenth year." 
 
 Ivanhoe, who had other web to weave than to stand 
 canvassing a palfrey's paces with its owner, lent but a 
 
I VAN HOE. 435 
 
 deaf ear to the Prior's grave advices and facetious jests, 
 and having leapt 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 con- 
 vent 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 now wellnigh 
 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 
 were just serving out for the friars' breakfast. Pursy 
 and important, he sat him down at the table, and many a 
 dark word he threw out of benefits to be expected to the 
 convent, and high deeds of service done by himself, which 
 at another season would have attracted observation. But 
 as the 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 Diggory, who was severely af- 
 flicted 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 
 
436 IVANHOE. 
 
 lay of some enamoured troubadour, sometimes encourag- 
 ing 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, so 
 that his features could be but imperfectly distinguished. 
 But his ruddy embrowned cheek-bones could be plainly 
 seen, and the large and bright blue eyes, that flashed from 
 under the dark shade of the raised visor ; and the whole 
 gesture and look of the champion expressed careless gai- 
 ety and fearless confidence — a mind which was unapt to 
 apprehend danger, and prompt to defy it when most im- 
 minent, 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 skilful master during the storming of 
 Torquilstone. Indeed, the infirmity of Wamba's brain 
 consisted chiefly in a kind of impatient irritability, which 
 suffered him not long to remain quiet in any posture, or 
 adhere to any certain train of ideas, although he was for 
 a few minutes alert enough in performing any immediate 
 task, or in apprehending any immediate topic. On horse- 
 back therefore, he was perpetually swinging himself back- 
 wards and forwards, now on the horse's ears, then anon 
 on the very rump of the animal ; now hanging both his 
 legs on one side, and now sitting with his face to the tail, 
 mopping, mowing, and making a thousand apish gestures, 
 until his palfrey took his freaks so much to heart as fairly 
 to lay him at his length on the green grass — an incident 
 which greatly amused the Knight, but compelled his com- 
 panion to ride more steadily thereafter. 
 
IVANHOE. £61 
 
 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 the sun, 
 
 Anna Marie, love, morn is begun, 
 
 Mists are dispersing, love, birds singing free, 
 
 Up in the morning, love, Anna Marie. 
 
 Anna Marie, love, up in the morn, 
 
 The hunter is winding blythe sounds on his horn, 
 
 The echo rings merry from rock and from tree, 
 
 'Tis time to arouse thee, love, Anna Marie. 
 
 Wamba. 
 
 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, u 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 
 freeman ; and we once came by the cudgel for being so 
 entranced by the melody that we lay in bed two hours 
 after sunrise, singing the ditty betwixt sleeping and 
 waking; my bones ache at thinking of the tune ever 
 since. Nevertheless, I have played the part of Anna 
 Marie to please you, fair sir." 
 
 The Jester next struck into another carol, a sort of 
 comic ditty, to which the Knight, catching up the tune, 
 replied in the like manner. 
 
 Knight and Wamba. 
 
 There came three merry men from south, west, and north, 
 
 Ever more sing the roundelaj^ ; 
 To win the Widow of Wycombe forth, 
 
 And where was the widow might say them nay ? 
 
438 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 bade him go bask by his sea-coal fire, 
 
 For she was the widow would say him nay. 
 
 Wamba. 
 
 The next that came forth, swore by blood and. by nails, 
 
 Merrily sing the roundelay ; 
 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 Griffith ap Hugh 
 Ap Tudor ap Rhice, 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, I am assured, bring round, at our 
 need, a jolly band of yonder honest yeomen." 
 
 "I would say, Heaven forefend," said the Jester, 
 
IVANHOE. 439 
 
 " were it not that that fair gift is a pledge they would 
 let us pass peaceably." 
 
 " Why, what meanest thou ? " said the Knight ; " think- 
 est thou that but for this pledge of fellowship they 
 would assault us ? " 
 
 " Nay, for me I say nothing," said Wamba ; " for green 
 trees have ears as well as stone walls. But canst thou 
 construe me this, Sir Knight ? — When is thy wine- 
 pitcher and thy purse better empty than full ? " 
 
 " Why, never, I think," replied the Knight. 
 
 " Thou never deservest to have a full one in thy hand, 
 for so simple an answer ! Thou hadst best empty thy 
 pitcher ere thou pass it to a Saxon, and leave thy money 
 at home ere thou walk in the greenwood." 
 
 "You hold our friends for robbers, then?" said the 
 Knight of the Fetterlock. 
 
 " You hear me not say so, fair sir," said Wamba. " It 
 may relieve a man's steed to take off his mail when he 
 hath a long journey to make; and, certes, it may do 
 good to the rider's soul to ease him of that which is the 
 root of evil ; therefore will I give no hard names to those 
 who do such services. Only I would wish my mail at 
 home, and my purse in my chamber, when I meet with 
 these good fellows, because it might save them some 
 trouble." 
 
 " We are bound to pray for them, my friend, 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. Bee's, 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 
 
440 IVANHOE. 
 
 to call his ciphering, as fair as Isaac the Jew keeps with 
 his debtors, and, like him, give out a very little, and take 
 large credit for doing so ; reckoning, doubtless, on their 
 Own behalf the sevenfold usury which the blessed text 
 hath promised to charitable loans." 
 
 "Give me an example of your meaning, Wamba — I 
 know nothing of ciphers or rates of usage," answered the 
 Knight. 
 
 " Why," said Wamba, " an your valour be so dull, you 
 will please to learn that those honest fellows balance a 
 good deed with one not quite so laudable, as a crown 
 given to a begging friar with a 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 cottage with the burning of a castle, the thatching of a 
 choir against the robbing of a church, the setting af ree 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 travellers who first met 
 them after their good service at Torquilstone would have a 
 woeful flaying. — And yet," said Wamba, coming close up to 
 the Knight's side, " there be companions who are far more 
 dangerous for travellers to meet than yonder outlaws." 
 
 " And who may they be, for you have neither bears 
 nor wolves, I trow ? " said the Knight. 
 
IVANHOE. 441 
 
 "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 Tor- 
 quilstone ; so that, should we meet with a band of them, 
 we are like to pay for our feats of arms. — Now, I pray 
 you, Sir Knight, what would you do if we met two of 
 them ? " 
 
 " Pin the villains to the earth with my lance, Wamba, 
 if they offered us any impediment." 
 
 " But what if there were four of them ? " 
 
 "They should drink of the same cup," answered the 
 Knight. 
 
 " What if six," continued Wamba, " and we as we now 
 are, barely two; would you not remember Locksley's 
 horn ? " 
 
 " What ! sound for aid," exclaimed the Knight, " against 
 a score of such 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 in- 
 dulged his fellow-traveller, 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 
 Valour and Folly travel, Folly should bear the horn, be- 
 cause 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 cham- 
 pion, " or Folly will show a clean pair of heels, and leave 
 
442 IVANHOE. 
 
 Valour 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, Valour and Folly are once more boon 
 companions," said the Jester, coming up frankly to the 
 Knight's side ; " but, in truth, I love not such buffets as 
 that you bestowed on the burly Friar, when his holiness 
 rolled on the green like a king of the nine-pins. And 
 now that Folly wears the horn, let Valour rouse himself 
 and shake his mane ; for, if I mistake not, there are 
 company in yonder brake that are on the lookout for 
 us." 
 
 "What makes thee judge so ? " said the Knight. 
 
 " Because I have twice or thrice noticed the glance of 
 a morrion from amongst the green leaves. Had they 
 been honest men, they had kept the path. But yonder 
 thicket is a choice chapel for the clerks of St. Nicholas." 
 
 " By my faith," said the Knight, closing his visor, " I 
 think thou 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 armourer," said the Knight. " Wamba, 
 let us close with them," — and he rode straight to the 
 thicket. He was met by six or seven men-at-arms, who 
 ran against him with their lances at full career. Three 
 of the weapons struck against him, and splintered with 
 as little effect as if they had been driven against a tower 
 of steel. The Black Knight's eyes seemed to flash fire 
 
<3 . ' m. * 
 
 l/e<? 
 
 J* 
 
 
 - 
 
 
 
IVANHOE. 443 
 
 even through the aperture of his visor. He raised him- 
 self in his stirrups with an air of inexpressible dignity, 
 and exclaimed, " What means this, my masters ! " — The 
 men made no other reply than by drawing their swords 
 and attacking him on every side, crying, " Die, tyrant ! " 
 
 " Ha ! St. Edward ! Ha ! St. George ! " said the Black 
 Knight, striking down a man at every invocation ; " have 
 we traitors here ? " 
 
 His opponents, desperate as they were, bore back from 
 an arm which carried death in every blow, and it seemed 
 as if the terror of his single strength was about to gain 
 the battle against such odds, when a knight in blue 
 armour, 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 
 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 mo- 
 ment when his formidable antagonist was most closely 
 pressed, galloped against him in hopes to nail him with 
 his lance against the tree, when his purpose was again 
 intercepted by Wamba. The Jester, making up by agility 
 the want of strength, and little noticed by the men-at- 
 arms, who were busied in their more important object, 
 hovered on the skirts of the fight, and effectually checked 
 the fatal career of the Blue Knight, by hamstringing his 
 
444 IVANHOE. 
 
 horse with, a stroke of his sword. Horse and man went 
 to the ground; yet the situation of the Knight of the 
 Fetterlock continued very precarious, as he was pressed 
 close by several men completely armed, and began to be 
 fatigued by the violent exertions necessary to defend 
 himself on so many points at nearly the same moment, 
 when a grey-goose shaft suddenly stretched on the earth 
 one of the most formidable of his assailants, and a band 
 of yeomen broke forth from the glade, headed by Locksley 
 and the jovial Friar, who, taking ready and effectual part 
 in the fray, soon disposed of the ruffians, all of whom lay 
 on the spot dead or mortally wounded. The Black Knight 
 thanked his deliverers with a dignity they had not ob- 
 served 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 ex- 
 press 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 
 assassins, who, bruised by his fall, and entangled under 
 the wounded steed, lay incapable either of flight or 
 resistance. 
 
 "Come, valiant sir," said Wamba, "I must be your 
 armourer as well as your equerry. — I have dismounted 
 you, and now I will unhelm you." 
 
 So saying, with no very gentle hand he undid the 
 helmet of the Blue Knight, which, rolling to a distance 
 on the grass, displayed to the Knight of the 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 ? " 
 
 " Eichard," 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." 
 
IVANHOE. 445 
 
 " Revenge ! " answered the Black Knight ; " I never 
 wronged thee — On me thou hast nought to revenge." 
 
 " My daughter, Richard, whose alliance 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 enmity, 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 contend- 
 ing 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 
 England, and go to hide thine infamy in thy Norman 
 castle, and that thou wilt never mention the name of 
 John of Anjou as connected with thy felony. If thou 
 art found on English ground after the space I have al- 
 lotted thee, thou diest — or if thou breathest aught that 
 can attaint the honour 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 run- 
 ning 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 labour of a long journey." 
 
446 IVANHOE. 
 
 "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 char- 
 acter, of Coeur-de-Lion, the yeomen at once kneeled down 
 before him, and at the same time tendered their alle- 
 giance, and implored pardon for their offences. 
 
 " Rise, my friends," said Richard, in a gracious tone, 
 looking on them with a countenance in which his habit- 
 ual good-humour had already conquered the blaze of 
 hasty resentment, and whose features retained no mark 
 of the late desperate conflict, excepting the flush arising 
 from exertion — " arise," he said, " my friends ! Your 
 misdemeanours, whether in forest or field, have been 
 atoned by the loyal services you rendered my distressed 
 subjects before the walls of Torquilstone, and the res- 
 cue you have this day afforded to your sovereign. Arise 
 my liegemen, and be good subjects in future. — And thou, 
 brave Locksley " 
 
 " Call me no longer Locksley, my Liege, but know me 
 under the name which, I fear, fame hath 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 
 the King, " who hath not heard a name that has been 
 borne as far as Palestine ? But be assured, brave Out- 
 law, that no deed done in our absence, and in the 
 turbulent times to which it hath given rise, shall be 
 remembered to thy disadvantage." 
 
 " True says the proverb," said Wamba, interposing his 
 word, but with some abatement of his usual petulance — 
 
 " ' When the cat is away, 
 The mice will play.' " 
 
 " What, Wamba, art thou there ? " said Richard ; " X, 
 have been so long of hearing thy voice, I thought thou 
 hadst taken flight." 
 
 " I take flight ! " said Wamba ; " when do you ever 
 find Folly separated from Valour ? There lies the trophy 
 
IVANHOE. 447 
 
 of my sword, that good grey 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 doublet will. But if I fought not at 
 sword's point, you will grant me that I sounded the 
 onset." 
 
 " And to good purpose, honest Wamba," replied the 
 King. " Thy good service shall not be forgotten." 
 
 " Conjiteor ! conjiteor ! " exclaimed, in a submissive 
 tone, a voice near the King's side ; " my Latin will 
 carry me no farther, but I confess my deadly treason, 
 and pray leave to have absolution before I am led to 
 execution ! " 
 
 Richard looked around, and beheld the jovial Friar on 
 his knees, telling his rosary, while his quarter-staff, which 
 had not been idle during the skirmish, lay on the grass 
 beside him. His countenance was gathered so as he 
 thought might best express the most profound contri- 
 tion, his eyes being turned up, and the corners of his 
 mouth drawn down, as Wamba expressed it, like the 
 tassels at the mouth of a purse. Yet this demure affec- 
 tation of extreme penitence was whimsically belied by 
 a ludicrous meaning which lurked in his huge features, 
 and seemed to pronounce his fear and repentance alike 
 hypocritical. 
 
 " For what art thou cast down, mad priest ? " said 
 Richard ; "art thou afraid thy diocesan should learn 
 how truly thou dost serve Our Lady and St. Dunstan ? 
 Tush, man ! fear it not ; Richard of England betrays no 
 secrets that pass over the flagon." 
 
 " Xay, 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 
 
448 IVANHOE. 
 
 given, I will be judged by the good men around, if it 
 was not as well repaid — or, if thou thinkest I still owe 
 thee aught, and will stand forth for another counter- 
 buff " 
 
 " By no means," replied Friar Tuck, " I had mine own 
 returned, and with usury — may your Majesty ever pay 
 your debts as fully ! " 
 
 " If I could do so with cuffs," said the King, " my 
 creditors should have little reason to complain of an 
 empty exchequer." 
 
 " And yet," said the Friar, resuming his demure, 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 Paynims and misbe- 
 lievers, I were void of reason to quarrel with the buffet 
 of a clerk so holy as he of Copmanhurst. Yet, mine 
 honest Friar, I think it would be best both for the church 
 and thyself that I should procure a license to unfrock thee, 
 and retain thee as a yeoman of our guard, serving in care 
 of our person, as formerly in attendance upon the altar 
 of St. Dunstan." 
 
 " My Liege," said the Friar, " I humbly crave your 
 pardon ; and you would readily grant my excuse, did you 
 but know how the sin of laziness has beset me. St. 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 honour is great, doubtless — yet, if I were 
 but to step aside to comfort a widow in one corner, or 
 to kill a deer in another, it would be, ' Where is the dog 
 Priest ? ' says one. ' Who has seen the accursed Tuck ? ' 
 says another. * The unfrocked villain destroys more veni- 
 son than half the country besides/ says one keeper ; 'And 
 is hunting after every shy doe in the country ! ' quoth a 
 second. In fine, good my Liege, I pray you to leave me 
 as you found me; or, if in aught you desire to extend 
 
IVANHOE. 449 
 
 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 Wharncliffe. 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 that 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 honour and 
 worship." 
 
 " I will answer for my patron," said the priest, joy- 
 ously. 
 
 " 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 less honour to my 
 extended palm than to my clenched fist," said the mon- 
 arch ; " 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 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. 
 2g 
 
450 IVANHOE. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 All hail to the lordlings of high degree, 
 
 Who live not more happy, though greater than we ! 
 
 Our pastimes to see, 
 
 Under every green tree, 
 In all the gay woodland, right welcome ye be. 
 
 Macdonald. 
 
 The new-comers were Wilfred of Ivanhoe, on the Prior 
 of Botolph's palfrey, and Gurth, who attended him, on 
 the knight's own war-horse. The astonishment of Ivan- 
 hoe was beyond bounds when he saw his master be- 
 sprinkled with blood, and six or seven dead bodies lying 
 around in the little glade in which the battle had taken 
 place. Nor was he less surprised to see Richard sur- 
 rounded by so many silvan attendants, the outlaws, as 
 they seemed to be, of the forest, and a perilous retinue 
 therefore for a prince. He hesitated whether to address 
 the King as the Black Knight-errant, or in what other 
 manner to demean himself towards him. Richard saw 
 his embarrassment. 
 
 "Fear not, Wilfred," he said, "to address Richard 
 Plantagenet as himself, since thou seest him in the com- 
 pany of true English hearts, although it may be they have 
 been urged a few steps aside by warm English blood." 
 
 " Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe," said the gallant outlaw, 
 stepping forward, "my assurances can add nothing to 
 those of our sovereign ; yet, let me say somewhat proudly, 
 that of men who have suffered much, he hath no truer 
 subjects than those who now stand around him." 
 
 "I cannot doubt it, brave man," said Wilfred, "since 
 thou art of the number. But what mean these marks of 
 death and danger — these slain men, and the bloody 
 armour of my Prince ? " 
 
 "Treason hath been with us, Ivanhoe," said the King; 
 "but, thanks to these brave men, treason hath met its 
 meed. But, now I bethink me, thou too art a traitor," 
 said Richard, smiling — " a most disobedient traitor ; 
 for were not our orders positive that thou shouldst 
 
IVANHOE. 451 
 
 repose thyself at St. Botolph's until thy wound was 
 healed ? " 
 
 " It is healed," said Ivanhoe — " it is not of more con- 
 sequence 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 by lonely journeys 
 and rash adventures, as if it were of no more value than 
 that of a mere knight-errant, who has no interest but what 
 lance and sword may procure him ? " 
 
 " And Richard Plantagenet," said the King, " desires 
 no more fame than his good lance and sword may acquire 
 him ; and Richard Plantagenet is prouder of achieving 
 an adventure, with only his good sword and his good arm 
 to speed, than if he led to battle an host of an hundred 
 thousand armed men." 
 
 " But your kingdom, my Liege," said Ivanhoe — "your 
 kingdom is threatened with dissolution and civil war — 
 your subjects are 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 example, my very faithful servant, Wilfred of Ivan- 
 hoe, 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 Bo- 
 him 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 
 
452 IVANHOE. 
 
 make sure of London. Too sudden an appearance would 
 subject me to dangers other than my lance and sword, 
 though backed by the bow of bold Robin, or the 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 unpar- 
 donable in him to have sought out. The young knight 
 sighed, therefore, and held his peace; while Richard, 
 rejoiced at having silenced his counsellor, though his 
 heart acknowledged the justice of the charge he had 
 brought against him, went on in conversation with 
 Robin Hood. "King of outlaws," he said, "have you no 
 refreshment to offer to your brother 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 honour 
 with your presence one of Robin Hood's places of ren- 
 dezvous, 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 presid- 
 ing over a splendid circle of peers and nobles. Novelty 
 in society and adventure was the zest of life to Richard 
 Coeur-de-Lion, and it had its highest relish when en- 
 hanced 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 realised and 
 
IVANHOE. 453 
 
 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 wis- 
 dom would have spread around his government. Accord- 
 ingly, his reign was like the course of a brilliant and 
 rapid meteor, which shoots along the face of heaven, 
 shedding around an unnecessary and portentous light, 
 which is instantly swallowed up by universal darkness ; 
 his feats of chivalry furnishing themes for bards and 
 minstrels, but affording none of those solid benefits to his 
 country on which history loves to pause, and hold up as 
 an example to posterity. But in his present company 
 Richard showed to the greatest imaginable advantage. 
 He was gay, good-humoured, and fond of manhood in 
 every rank of life. 
 
 Beneath a huge oak-tree the silvan repast was hastily 
 prepared for the King of England, surrounded by men 
 outlaws to his government, but who now formed his court 
 and his guard. As the flagon went round, the rough 
 foresters soon lost their awe for the presence of Majesty. 
 The song and the jest were exchanged, the stories of 
 former deeds were told with advantage ; and at length, 
 and while boasting of their successful infraction of the 
 laws, no one recollected they were speaking in presence 
 of their natural guardian. The merry King, nothing 
 heeding his dignity any more than his company, laughed, 
 quaffed, and jested among the jolly band. The natural 
 and rough sense of Robin Hood led him to be desirous 
 that the scene should be closed ere anything should occur 
 to disturb its harmony, the more especially that he 
 observed Ivanhoe's brow clouded with anxiety. " We 
 are honoured," he said to Ivanhoe, apart, " by the pres- 
 ence of our gallant sovereign ; yet I would not that he 
 dallied with time which the circumstances of his king- 
 dom may render precious." 
 
 "It is well and wisely spoken, brave Robin Hood," 
 said Wilfred, apart; "and know, moreover, that they 
 who jest with Majesty, even in its gayest mood, are but 
 toying with the lion's whelp, which, on slight provoca- 
 tion, uses both fangs and claws." 
 
454 IVANHOE. 
 
 "You have touched the very cause of my fear," said 
 the outlaw. " My meu are rough by practice aud nature ; 
 the King is hasty as well as good-humoured ; nor know 
 I how soon cause of offence 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." 
 
 " Must I so soon risk the pardon and favour of my sover- 
 eign?" said Robin Hood, pausing for an instant; "but, 
 by St. Christopher, it shall be so. I were undeserving 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 
 minutes the revellers were startled by the sound of his 
 horn. 
 
 "It is the bugle of Malvoisin," said the Miller, start- 
 ing to his feet, and seizing his bow. The Friar dropped 
 the flagon, and grasped his quarter-staff. Wamba stopt 
 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 
 armour, which he had laid aside ; and while Gurth was 
 putting them on, he laid his strict injunctions on Wil- 
 fred, 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 shalfc this day look on, and see 
 how Richard will fight for his friend and liegeman." 
 
 In the meantime, Robin Hood had sent off several of 
 his followers in different directions, as if to reconnoitre 
 the enemy ; and when he saw the company effectually 
 broken up, he approached Richard, who was now com- 
 pletely armed, and, kneeling down on one knee, craved 
 pardon of his sovereign. 
 
IVANHOE. 455 
 
 "For what, good yeoman ?" said Richard, somewhat 
 impatiently. " 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 time to commit any new offence 
 since that time ? " 
 
 " Ay, but I have though," answered the yeoman, " if it 
 be an offence to deceive my prince for his own advantage. 
 The bugle you have heard was none of 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." 
 
 He then rose from his knee, folded his arms on his 
 bosom, and, in a manner rather respectful than submis- 
 sive awaited the answer of the King, like one who is 
 conscious he may have given offence, yet is confident in 
 the rectitude of his motive. The blood rushed in anger to 
 the countenance of Richard ; but it was the first transient 
 emotion, and his sense of justice instantly subdued it. 
 
 "The King of Sherwood," he said, "grudges his venison 
 and his wine-flask to the King of England ! It is well, 
 bold Robin ! but when you come to see me in merry Lon- 
 don, I trust to be a less niggard host. Thou art right, 
 however, good fellow. Let us therefore to horse and 
 away. Wilfred has been impatient this hour. — Tell me, 
 bold Robin, hast thou never a friend in thy band, who, 
 not content with advising, will needs direct thy motions 
 and look miserable when thou dost presume to act for 
 thyself ? " 
 
 " Such a one," said Robin, " is my lieutenant, Little 
 John, who is even now absent on an expedition as far as 
 the borders of Scotland ; and I will own to your Majesty 
 that I am sometimes displeased by the freedom of his 
 counsels ; but, when I think twice, I cannot be long angry 
 with one who can have no motive for his anxiety save 
 zeal for his master's service." 
 
 "Thou art right, good yeoman," answered Richard; 
 " and if I had Ivanhoe, on the one hand, to give grave 
 advice, and recommend it by the sad gravity of his brow, 
 and thee, on the other, to trick me into what thou think- 
 
456 IVANHOE. 
 
 est 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 Coningsburgh, 
 and think no more on't." 
 
 Robin Hood assured them that he had detached a party 
 in the direction of the road they were to pass, who would 
 not fail to discover and apprise them of any secret 
 ambuscade ; and that he had little doubt they would find 
 the ways secure, or, if otherwise, would receive such 
 timely notice of the danger as would enable them to fall 
 back on a strong troop of archers, with which he himself 
 proposed to follow on the same route. 
 
 The wise and attentive precautions adopted for his 
 safety touched Richard's feelings, and removed any slight 
 grudge which he might retain on account of the deception 
 the outlaw captain had practised upon him. He once 
 more extended his hand to Robin Hood, assured him of 
 his full pardon and future favour, as well as his firm 
 resolution to restrain the tyrannical exercise of the forest 
 rights and other oppressive laws, by which so many 
 English yeomen were driven into a state of rebellion. 
 But Richard's good intentions towards the bold outlaw 
 were frustrated by the King's untimely death ; and the 
 Charter of the Forest was extorted from the unwilling 
 hands of King John when he succeeded to his heroic 
 brother. As for the rest of Robin Hood's career, as well 
 as the tale of his treacherous death, they are to be found 
 in those black-letter gariands, once sold at the low and 
 easy rate of one half-penny — 
 
 " 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 
 England than are presented by the vicinity of this ancient 
 Saxon fortress. The soft and gentle river Don sweeps 
 through an amphitheatre, in which cultivation is richly 
 blended with woodland, and on a mount ascending from 
 
IVANHOE. 457 
 
 the river, well defended by walls and ditches, rises this 
 ancient edifice, which, as its Saxon name implies, was, 
 previous to the Conquest, a royal residence of the kings 
 of England. The outer walls have probably been added 
 by the Normans, but the inner keep bears token of a very 
 great antiquity. It is situated on a mount at one angle 
 of the inner court, and forms a complete circle of perhaps 
 twenty-five feet in diameter. The wall is of immense 
 thickness, and is propped or defended by six huge exter- 
 nal buttresses, which project from the circle, and rise up 
 against the sides of the tower as if to strengthen or to 
 support it. These massive buttresses are solid when they 
 arise from the foundation, and a good way higher up ; 
 but are hollowed out towards the top, and terminate in a 
 sort of turrets communicating with the interior of the 
 keep itself. The distant appearance of this huge build- 
 ing, with these singular accompaniments, is as interesting 
 to the lovers of the picturesque as the interior of the 
 castle is to the eager antiquary, whose imagination it car- 
 ries 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 neighbouring 
 churchyard. 
 
 When Cceur-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 solemnised. It bore no em- 
 blem of the deceased's birth or quality, for armorial bear- 
 ings 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 na- 
 tion and rank of the deceased, by the well-known symbol 
 of Hengist and his Saxon warriors. 
 
458 IVANHOE. 
 
 All around the castle was a scene of busy commotion ; 
 for such funeral banquets were times of general and pro- 
 fuse hospitality, which not only every one who could 
 claim the most distant connexion with the deceased, but 
 all passengers whatsoever, were invited to partake. The 
 wealth and consequence of the deceased Athelstane oc- 
 casioned 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 aban- 
 doned to their discretion. The naked Saxon serf was 
 drowning the sense of his half-year's hunger and thirst 
 in one day of gluttony and drunkenness; the more pam- 
 pered burgess and guild-brother was eating his morsel 
 with gust, or curiously criticising the quantity of the 
 malt and the skill of the brewer. Some few of the poorer 
 Norman gentry might also be seen, distinguished by 
 their shaven chins and short cloaks, and not less so by 
 their keeping together, and looking with great scorn on 
 the whole solemnity, even while condescending to avail 
 themselves of the good oheer which was so liberally sup- 
 plied. 
 
 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; travelling mechanics were inquir- 
 ing after employment; and wandering palmers, hedge- 
 priests, Saxon minstrels, and Welsh bards were mutter- 
 ing 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 ancestry. Jesters and jugglers were not 
 
IVANHOE. 459 
 
 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 oc- 
 casions were as natural as they were rude. If sorrow was 
 thirsty, there was drink — if hungry, there was food — if 
 it sunk down upon and saddened the heart, 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 fe- 
 males, 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 Richard and his followers. The 
 seneschal or steward deigned not to take notice of the 
 groups of inferior guests who were perpetually entering 
 and withdrawing, unless so far as was necessary to pre- 
 serve order; nevertheless, he was struck by the good 
 mien of the Monarch and Ivanhoe, more especially as 
 he imagined the features of the latter were familiar to 
 him. Besides, the approach of two knights, for such 
 their dress bespoke them, was a rare event at a Saxon 
 solemnity, and could not but be regarded as a sort of 
 honour 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 miscel- 
 laneous assemblage of guests, thus conducting Richard 
 and Ivanhoe to the entrance of the tower. Gurth and 
 Wamba speedily found acquaintances in the court-yard, 
 nor presumed to intrude themselves any farther until 
 their presence should be required. 
 
460 IVANHOB. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIL 
 
 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 Coningsbnrgh 
 Castle is very peculiar, and partakes of the rude simplic- 
 ity of the early times in which it was erected. A flight 
 of steps, so deep and narrow as to be almost precipitous, 
 leads up to a low portal in the south side of the tower, by 
 which the adventurous antiquary may still, or at least 
 could a few years since, gain access to a small stair 
 within the thickness of the main wall of the tower, 
 which leads up to the third story of the building — 
 the two lower being dungeons or vaults, which neither 
 receive air nor light, save by a square hole in the third 
 story, with which they seem to have communicated by 
 a ladder. The access to the upper apartments in the 
 tower, which consist in all of four stories, is given by 
 stairs which are carried up through the external but- 
 tresses. 
 
 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 him the 
 signal. 
 
 There were assembled in this apartment, around a large 
 oaken table, about a dozen of the most distinguished rep- 
 resentatives of the Saxon families in the adjacent counties. 
 These were all old, or at least elderly, men ; for the younger 
 race, to the great displeasure of the seniors, had, like Ivan- 
 hoe, broken down many of the barriers which separated 
 for half a century the Norman victors from the vanquished 
 
IVAN HOE. 461 
 
 Saxons. The downcast and sorrowful looks of these vener- 
 able men, their silence and their mournful posture, formed 
 a strong contrast to the levity of the revellers on the out- 
 side of the castle. Their grey locks and long full beards, 
 together with their antique tunics and loose black man- 
 tles, suited well with the singular and rude apartment in 
 which they were seated, and gave the appearance of a 
 band of ancient worshippers 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 Richard (only known 
 to him as the valorous Knight of the Fetterlock) he arose 
 gravely, and gave him weloome by the ordinary saluta- 
 tion, Waes hael, raising at the same time a goblet to his 
 head. The King, no stranger to the customs of his Eng- 
 lish subjects, 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 recognised. 
 
 When this introductory ceremony was performed, Ced- 
 ric arose, and, extending his hand to Richard, conducted 
 him into a small and very rude chapel, which was exca- 
 vated, as it were, out of one of the external buttresses. 
 As there was no openm , .aving a very narrow loophole, 
 the place would have been nearly quite dark but for two 
 flambeaux or torches, which showed, by a red and smoky 
 light, the arched roof and naked walls, the rude altar of 
 stone, and the crucifix of the same material. 
 
 Before this altar was placed a bier, and on each side 
 of 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 trans- 
 ferred themselves to Coningsburgh, where, while six of 
 their number were constantly on guard in the perform- 
 
462 IV AN HOE. 
 
 ance of divine rites by the bier of Athelstane, the others 
 failed not to take their share of the refreshments and 
 amusements which went on at the castle. In maintain- 
 ing this pious watch and ward, the good monks were 
 particularly careful not to interrupt their hymns for an 
 instant, lest Zernebock, the ancient Saxon Apollyon, 
 should lay his clutches on the departed Athelstane. 
 Nor were they less careful to prevent any unhallowed 
 layman from touching the pall, which having been that 
 used at the funeral of St. Edmund, was liable to be dese- 
 crated if handled by the profane. If, in truth, these at- 
 tentions 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 Athel- 
 stane had announced her intention of endowing that 
 foundation with the better part of the lands of the de- 
 ceased, 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 brief prayer for the weal of the departed 
 soul. 
 
 This act of pious charity performed, Cedric again mo- 
 tioned them to follow him, gilding 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 loophole which enlightened it 
 being to the west, and widening considerably as it sloped 
 inward, a beam of the setting sun found its way into its 
 dark recess, and showed a female of a dignified mien, 
 and whose countenance retained the marked remains of 
 majestic beauty. Her long mourning robes, and her flow- 
 ing wimple of black cypress, enhanced the whiteness of 
 her skin, and the beauty of her light-coloured and flow- 
 ing tresses, which time had neither thinned nor mingled 
 
IVANHOE. 463 
 
 with silver. Her countenance expressed the deepest sor- 
 row that is consistent with resignation. On the stone 
 table before her stood a crucifix of ivory, beside which 
 was laid a missal, having its pages richly illuminated, 
 and its boards adorned with clasps of gold and bosses of 
 the same precious metal. 
 
 " Noble Edith," said Cedric, after having stood a mo- 
 ment silent, as if to give Richard and Wilfred time to 
 look upon the lady of the mansion, "these are worthy 
 strangers come to take a part in thy sorrows. And this, 
 in especial, is the valiant knight who fought so bravely 
 for the deliverance of him for whom we this day mourn." 
 
 " His bravery has my thanks," returned the lady ; " al- 
 though 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 be- 
 hold the widow of Adding, the mother of Athelstane, 
 in her deep hour of sorrow and lamentation. To your 
 care, kind kinsman, I entrust them, satisfied that they 
 will want no hospitality 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 apart- 
 ment 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. 
 
464 IVANHOE. 
 
 Through paths unknown 
 Thy soul hath flown, 
 To seek the realms of woe, 
 Where fiery pain 
 Shall purge the stain 
 Of actions done below. 
 
 In that sad place, 
 
 By Mary's grace, 
 
 Brief may thy dwelling be ! 
 
 Till prayers and alms, 
 
 And holy psalms, 
 
 Shall set the captive free. 
 
 While this dirge was sung, in a low and melancholy 
 tone, by the female choristers, the others were divided 
 into two bands, of which one was engaged in bedecking, 
 with such embroidery as their skill and taste could com- 
 pass, a large silken pall, destined to cover the bier of 
 Athelstane, while the others busied themselves in se- 
 lecting, from baskets of flowers placed before them, 
 garlands, which they intended for the same mournful 
 purpose. The behaviour 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 endeavouring to find out how her 
 mourning-robe became her, than in the dismal ceremony 
 for which they were preparing. Neither was this pro- 
 pensity (if we must needs confess the truth) at all dimin- 
 ished by the appearance of two strange knights, which 
 occasioned some looking up, peeping, and whispering. 
 Rowena alone, too proud to be vain, paid her greeting to 
 her deliverer with a graceful courtesy. Her demeanour 
 was serious, but not dejected; and it may be doubted 
 whether thoughts of Ivanhoe, and the uncertainty of his 
 fate, did not claim as great a share in her gravity as the 
 death of her kinsman. 
 
 To Cedric, who, however, as we have observed, was 
 not remarkably clear-sighted on such occasions, the sor- 
 row of his ward seemed so much deeper than any of the 
 other maidens that he deemed it proper to whisper the 
 
IVANHOE. 46 
 
 K 
 
 explanation, — " She was the affianced bride of the noble 
 Athelstane." — It may be doubted whether this communi- 
 cation went a far way to increase Wilfred's disposition to 
 sympathise with the mourners of Coningsburgh. 
 
 Having thus formally introduced the guests to the dif- 
 ferent 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 honourable guests, 
 whose more slight connexion with the deceased might 
 render them unwilling to join those who were immedi- 
 ately affected by the unhappy event. He assured them 
 of every accommodation, and was about to withdraw when 
 the Black Knight took his hand. 
 
 " I crave to remind you, noble thane," he said, " that 
 when we last parted you promised, for the service I had 
 the fortune to render you, to grant me a boon." 
 
 " It is granted ere named, noble Knight," said Cedric ; 
 u 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, colouring, 
 and interrupting the King in his turn, "I trust your 
 boon regards yourself and no other; for in that which 
 concerns the honour of my house, it is scarce fitting that 
 a stranger should mingle." 
 
 "Nor do I wish to mingle," said the King, mildly, 
 " unless in so far as you will admit me to have an inter- 
 est. As yet you have known me but as the Black Knight 
 of the Fetterlock. — Know me now as Richard Plan- 
 tagenet." 
 
 " Richard of Anjou ! " exclaimed Cedric, stepping back- 
 ward with the utmost astonishment. 
 
 " No, noble Cedric — Richard of England ! whose deep- 
 est 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 ? " 
 2h 
 
466 IVANHOE. 
 
 "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 the heir to the monarchy." 
 
 " I will not dispute my title with thee, noble thane," 
 said Richard, calmly ; " but I will bid thee look around 
 thee, and see where thou wilt find another to be put into 
 the scale against it." 
 
 " And hast thou wandered hither, Prince, to tell me 
 so ? " said Cedric — " to upbraid me with the ruin of my 
 race, ere the grave has closed o'er the last scion of Saxon 
 royalty ? " His countenance darkened as he spoke. 
 " It was boldly — it was rashly done ! " 
 
 " Not so, by the holy rood ! " replied the King ; " it was 
 done in the frank confidence which one brave man may 
 repose in another, without a shadow of danger." 
 
 " Thou sayest well, Sir King — for King I own thou 
 art, and wilt be, despite of my feeble opposition. I dare 
 not take the only mode to prevent it, though thou hast 
 placed the strong temptation within my reach ! " 
 
 " And now to my boon,"" said the King, " which I ask 
 not with one jot the less confidence, that thou hast refused 
 to acknowledge my lawful sovereignty. I require of thee, 
 as a man of thy word, on pain of being held faithless, 
 man-sworn, and nidering, to forgive and receive to thy 
 paternal affection the good knight, Wilfred of Ivanhoe. 
 In this reconciliation thou wilt own I have an interest — 
 the happiness of my friend, and the quelling of dissension 
 among my faithful people." 
 
 " And this is Wilfred ! " said Cedric, pointing to his 
 son. 
 
 " My father ! — my father ! " said Ivanhoe, prostrating 
 himself at Cedric's feet, "grant me thy forgiveness!" 
 
c? 
 
 ^T^tjefe-^^- 
 
 t 
 
 'PQj fatter ! - ny Mfer ! s-aid Jy-anVpe^ 
 
IVANHOE. 467 
 
 "Thou hast it, my son," said Cedric, raising him np. 
 *' The son of Hereward knows how to keep his word, even 
 when it has been passed to a Norman. But let me see 
 thee nse the dress and costume of thy English ancestry : 
 no short cloaks, no gay bonnets, no fantastic plumage in 
 my decent household. He that would be the son of Cedric 
 must show himself of English ancestry. Thou art about 
 to speak," he added, sternly, " and I guess the topic. 
 The Lady Rowena must complete two years' mourning, 
 as for a betrothed husband — all our Saxon ancestors 
 would disown us were we to treat of a new union for her 
 ere the grave of him she should have wedded — him so 
 much the most worthy of her hand by birth and ancestry 
 — is yet closed. The ghost of Athelstane himself would 
 burst his bloody cerements, and stand before us to forbid 
 such dishonour to his memory." 
 
 It seemed as if Cedric's words had raised a spectre ; for 
 scarce had he uttered them ere the door flew open, and 
 Athelstane, arrayed in the garments of the grave, stood 
 before them, pale, haggard, and like something arisen 
 from the dead ! 
 
 The effect of this apparition on the persons present 
 was utterly appalling. Cedric started back as far as the 
 wall of the apartment would permit, and, leaning against 
 it as one unable to support himself, gazed on the figure 
 of his friend with eyes that seemed fixed, and a mouth 
 which he appeared incapable of shutting. Ivanhoe crossed 
 himself, repeating prayers in Saxon, Latin, or Norman- 
 French, as they occurred to his memory, while Richard 
 alternately said "Benedicite" and swore, "Mort de ma vie /" 
 
 In the meantime a horrible noise was heard below 
 stairs, some crying, " Secure the treacherous monks ! " — 
 others, " Down with them into the dungeon ! " — others, 
 " Pitch them from the highest battlements ! " 
 
 " In the name of God ! " said Cedric, addressing what 
 seemed the spectre of his departed friend, "if thou art 
 mortal, speak ! — if a departed spirit, say for what 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 ! " 
 
468 IVANHOE. 
 
 u 
 
 I will," said the spectre, very composedly, "when I 
 have collected breath, and when you give me time. — 
 Alive, saidst thou ? I am as much alive as he can be 
 who has fed on bread and water for three days, which 
 seem three ages. — Yes, bread and water, father Cedric! 
 By Heaven, and all saints in it, better food hath not 
 passed my weasand for three livelong days, 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 
 towards 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 
 my supper shall presently find. No thanks to the Tem- 
 plar 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 counterbuff as would have spoilt his 
 retreat. But as it was, down I went, stunned, indeed, 
 but un wounded. 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, doubt- 
 less, and no way pleased, to find the man alive whose 
 heirs they had proposed themselves to be. I asked for 
 wine — they gave me some, but it must have been highly 
 medicated, for I slept yet more deeply than before, and 
 wakened 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 sepulture. I had strange thoughts 
 of what had befallen me, when the door of my dun- 
 
IVANHOE. 469 
 
 geon 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 rood of Bromholme, there was no 
 romance in the matter!" said Athelstane. "A barley 
 loaf and a pitcher of water — that they gave me, the nig- 
 gardly traitors, whom my father, and I myself, had en- 
 riched, when their best resources were the flitches of 
 bacon and measures of corn out of which they wheedled 
 poor serfs and bondsmen, in exchange for their prayers. 
 The nest of foul, ungrateful vipers — barley bread and 
 ditch water to such a patron as I had been ! I will smoke 
 them out of their nest, though I be excommunicated ! " 
 
 " But, in the name of Our Lady, noble 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 their hive. I heard them dron- 
 ing 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 flavour of 
 wine and spices about his person. Good cheer had opened 
 his heart, for he left me a nook of pasty and a flask of 
 w r ine instead of my former fare. I ate, drank, and was 
 invigorated j when, to add to my good luck, the Sacristan, 
 
470 IVANHOE. 
 
 too totty to discharge his duty of turnkey fitly) locked 
 the door beside the staple, so that it fell ajar. The light, 
 the food, the wine set my invention to work. The staple 
 to which my chains were fixed was more rusted than I or 
 the villain Abbot had supposed. Even iron could not re- 
 main 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 partak- 
 ing five times to-day ; and yet a morsel of that savoury 
 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 
 strangers' apartment, attended by as many of the guests, 
 male and female, as could squeeze into the small room, 
 while others, crowding the staircase, caught up an erro- 
 neous edition of the story, and transmitted it still more 
 inaccurately to those beneath, who again sent it forth to 
 the vulgar without, in a fashion totally irreconcilable to 
 the real fact. Althelstane, 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 grop- 
 ing about, I was at length directed, by the sound of a 
 jolly roundelay, to the apartment where the worthy Sac- 
 ristan, an it please ye, was holding a devil's mass with 
 a huge beetle-browed, broad-shouldered brother of the 
 grey-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 j but when I knocked 
 
IVANHOE. 471 
 
 down the Sacristan with my fist, the other fellow, his pot- 
 companion, fetched a blow at me with a huge quarter- 
 staff." 
 
 " This must be our Friar Tuck, for a count's ransom," 
 said Richard, looking at Ivanhoe. 
 
 " He may be the devil, an he will," said Athelstane. 
 " Fortunately, he missed the aim; and on my approaching 
 to grapple with him, took to his heels and ran for it. I 
 failed not to set my own heels at liberty by means of the 
 fetter-key, which hung amongst others at the sexton's 
 belt ; and I had thoughts of beating out the knave's 
 brains with the bunch of keys, but gratitude for the nook 
 of pasty and the flask of wine which the rascal had im- 
 parted to my captivity came over my heart ; so, with a 
 brace of hearty kicks, I left him on the floor, pouched 
 some baked meat and a leathern bottle of wine, with 
 which the two venerable brethren had been regaling, went 
 to the stable and found in a private stall mine own best 
 palfrey, which, doubtless, had been set apart for the holy 
 Father Abbot's particular use. Hither I came with all 
 the speed the beast could compass — man and mother's 
 son flying before me wherever I came, taking me for a 
 spectre, the more especially as, to prevent my being 
 recognised, I drew the corpse-hood over my face. I had 
 not gained admittance into my own castle, had I not 
 been supposed to be the attendant of a juggler who is 
 making the people in the castle-yard very merry, consid- 
 ering 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 I 
 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 re- 
 sume our brave projects of honour and liberty. I tell 
 thee, never will dawn a morrow so auspic'ous 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 ; 
 
472 IVANHOE. 
 
 and if the stairs be too strait to admit his fat carcass, I 
 will have him craned up from without." 
 
 " But, my son," said Edith, " consider his sacred office." 
 
 "Consider my three days' fast," replied Athelstane; 
 "I will have their blood every one of them. Front-de- 
 Boeuf was burnt 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 Anjou, 
 that, lion-hearted as he is, he shall not hold undisputed 
 the throne of Alfred, while a male descendant of the 
 Holy Confessor lives to dispute it." 
 
 "How!" said Athelstane, "is this the noble King 
 Richard ? " 
 
 " It is Richard Plantagenet himself," said Cedric ; "yet 
 I need not remind thee that, coming hither a guest of 
 free-will, he may neither be injured nor detained prisoner 
 — thou well knowest thy duty to him as his host." 
 
 " Ay, by my faith ! " said Athelstane ; " and my duty 
 as a subject besides, for I here tender him my allegiance, 
 heart and hand." 
 
 " My son," said Edith, " think on thy royal rights ! " 
 
 " Think on the freedom of England, degenerate prince ! " 
 said Cedric. 
 
 " Mother and friend," said Athelstane, " a truce to your 
 upbraidings ! Bread and water and a dungeon are marvel- 
 lous 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 counsel- 
 or to be trusted. Since these plots were set in agitation, I 
 
IVANIIOE. 473 
 
 have had nothing but hurried journeys, indigestions, blows 
 and bruises, imprisonments, and starvation ; besides that 
 they can only end in the murder of some thousands of 
 quiet folk. I tell you, I will be king in my own domains, 
 and nowhere else ; and my first act of dominion shall be 
 to hang the Abbot." 
 
 " And my ward Rowena," said Cedric — "I trust you 
 intend not to desert her ? " 
 
 " Father Cedric," said Athelstane, " be reasonable. The 
 Lady Rowena cares not for me ; she loves the little finger 
 of my kinsman Wilfred's glove better than my whole per- 
 son. 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, 
 Ho wena, 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 me, for I but ask it in the way of friend- 
 ship. Here, cousin Wilfred of Ivanhoe, in thy favour I 
 
 renounce and abjure Hey! by St. Dunstan, our cousin 
 
 Wilfred hath vanished ! Yet, unless my eyes are still 
 dazzled with the fasting I ha/ve undergone, I saw him 
 stand there but even now." 
 
 All now looked around and inquired for Ivanhoe ; but 
 he had vanished. It was at length discovered that a Jew 
 had been to seek him ; and that, after very brief confer- 
 ence, he had called for Gurth and his armour, and had 
 left the castle. 
 
 "Fair cousin," said Athelstane to Rowena, "could I 
 think that this sudden disappearance of Ivanhoe was 
 occasioned by other than the weightiest reason, I would 
 myself resume " 
 
 But he had no sooner let go her hand, on first observ- 
 ing that Ivanhoe had disappeared, than Rowena, who had 
 found her situation extremely embarrassing, had taken 
 the first opportunity to escape from the apartment. 
 
 " Certainly," quoth Athelstane, " women are the least 
 to be trusted of all animals, monks and abbots excepted. 
 I am an infidel, if I expected not thanks from her, and 
 perhaps a kiss to boot These cursed grave-clothes have 
 
474 IVANHOE. 
 
 surely a spell on them, every one flies from me. — To 
 you I turn, noble King Richard, with the vows of alle- 
 giance, 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 him- 
 self 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 re- 
 stored 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 ? " 
 
 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 ! Bichard 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 on blood and 
 death is not peculiar to those dark ages ; though, in the 
 gladiatorial exercise of single combat and general tourney, 
 they were habituated to the bloody spectacle of brave 
 
IVANHOE. 475 
 
 men falling by each other's hands. Even in our own 
 days, when morals are better understood, an execution, a 
 bruising-match, a riot, or a meeting of radical reformers, 
 collects, at considerable hazard to themselves, immense 
 crowds of spectators, otherwise little interested, except 
 to see how matters are to be conducted, or whether the 
 heroes of the day are, in the heroic language of insurgent 
 tailors, flints or dunghills. 
 
 The eyes, therefore, of a very considerable multitude 
 were bent on the gate of the Preceptory of Templestowe, 
 with the purpose of witnessing the procession ; while still 
 greater numbers had already surrounded the tiltyard 
 belonging to that establishment. This inclosure was 
 formed on a piece of level ground adjoining to the Pre- 
 ceptory, which had been levelled with care, for the exer- 
 cise of military and chivalrous sports. It occupied the 
 brow of a soft and gentle eminence, was carefully pali- 
 saded 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. 
 
 On the present occasion, a throne was erected for the 
 Grand Master at the east end, surrounded with seats of 
 distinction for the Preceptors and Knights of the Order. 
 Over these floated the sacred standard, called Le 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 faggots, 
 so arranged around a stake, deeply fixed in the ground, 
 as to leave a space for the victim whom they were des- 
 tined to consume to enter within the fatal circle, in order 
 to be chained to the stake by the fetters which hung 
 ready for that purpose. Beside this deadly apparatus 
 stood four black slaves, whose colour and African fea- 
 tures, then so little known in England, appalled the 
 multitude, who gazed on them as on demons employed 
 about their own diabolical exercises. These men stirred 
 not, excepting now and then, under the direction of one 
 who seemed their chief, to shift and replace the ready 
 fuel. They looked not on the multitude. In fact, they 
 
476 IVANHOE. 
 
 seemed insensible of their presence, and of everything 
 save the discharge of their own horrible duty. And 
 when, in speech with each other, they expanded their 
 blubber lips, and showed their white fangs, as if they 
 grinned at the thoughts of the expected tragedy, the 
 startled commons could scarcely help believing that they 
 were actually the familiar spirits with whom the witch 
 had communed, and who, her time being out, stood ready 
 to assist in her dreadful punishment. They whispered 
 to each other, and communicated all the feats which 
 Satan had performed during that busy and unhappy 
 period, not failing, of course, to give the devil rather 
 more than his due. 
 
 " Have you not heard, father Dennet," quoth one boor 
 to another advanced in years, " that the devil has carried 
 away bodily the great Saxon thane Athelstane of Con- 
 ingsburgh ? " 
 
 " Ay, but he brought him back, though, 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 splendour of his gaily broidered 
 doublet, he wore round 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 
 bearing, as usual, the cognizance or badge of the baron 
 to whose family he belonged, had barely the word Sher- 
 wood 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 was 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 j " for I heard the monks of St. Edmund's 
 
1VANH0E. 477 
 
 singing the death's hymn for him ; and, moreover, there 
 was a rich death-meal and dole at the Castle of Conings- 
 burgh, as right was ; and thither had I gone, but for 
 Mabel Parkins, who " 
 
 " Ay, dead was Athelstane," said the old man, shaking 
 his head, " and the more pity it was, for the old Saxon 
 blood " 
 
 " But, your story, my masters — your story," said the 
 Minstrel, somewhat impatiently. 
 
 " Ay, ay — construe us the story," said a burly Friar, 
 who stood beside them, leaning on a pole that exhibited 
 an appearance between a pilgrim's staff and a quarter- 
 staff, and probably acted as either when occasion served 
 — "your story," said the stalwart churchman. "Burn 
 not daylight about it ; we have short time to spare." 
 
 " 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 church- 
 man, " that there should be such an animal as a drunken 
 priest, or, if there were, that a layman should so speak 
 him. Be mannerly, my friend, and conclude the holy 
 man only wrapped in meditation, which makes the head 
 dizzy and foot unsteady, as if the stomach were filled 
 with new wine — I have felt it myself." 
 
 " Well, then," answered father Dennet, " a holy brother 
 came to visit the Sacristan at St. Edmund's — a sort of 
 hedge-priest is the visitor, and kills half the deer that 
 are stolen in the forest, who loves the tinkling of a 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," again said the 
 Minstrel. 
 
478 IVANHOE. 
 
 " Why, the tale is but this — Athelstane of Conings- 
 burgh 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 Coningsburgh." 
 
 " 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 Coningsburgh as much as bodily eyes ever 
 saw a living man. He had his shroud on, and all about 
 him smelt of the sepulchre — A butt of sack will not 
 wash it out of my memory." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " answered the Minstrel ; " thou dost but 
 jest with me ! " 
 
 " Never believe me," said the Friar, " an I fetched not 
 a knock at him with my quarter-staff that would have 
 felled an ox, and it glided through his body as it might 
 through a pillar of smoke ! " 
 
 " By St. Hubert," said the Minstrel, " but it is a won- 
 drous tale, and fit to be put in metre to the ancient tune, 
 ' Sorrow came to the Old Friar.' " 
 
 " Laugh, if ye list," said Friar Tuck ; " but an ye 
 catch me singing on such a theme may the next ghost 
 or devil carry me off with him headlong! No, no — I 
 instantly formed the purpose of assisting at some good 
 work, such as the burning of a witch, a judicial combat, 
 
IVANHOE. 479 
 
 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 Teinplestowe, a venerable building, sit- 
 uated in a hamlet at some distance from the Preceptory, 
 broke short their argument. One by one the sullen 
 sounds fell successively on the ear, leaving but sufficient 
 space for each to die away in distant echo, ere the air 
 was again filled by repetition of the iron knell. These 
 sounds, the signal of the approaching ceremony, chilled 
 with awe the hearts of the assembled multitude, whose 
 eyes were now turned to the Preceptory, expecting the 
 approach of the Grand Master, the champion, and the 
 criminal. 
 
 At length the drawbridge fell, the gates opened, and a 
 knight, bearing the great standard of the Order, sallied 
 from the castle, preceded by six trumpets, and followed 
 by the Knights Preceptors, two and two, the Grand Mas- 
 ter coming last, mounted on a stately horse, whose furni- 
 ture was of the simplest kind. Behind him came Brian 
 de Bois-Guilbert, armed cap-a-pie in bright armour, 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 pas- 
 sion, 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 Conrade of Mont-Fitchet and Albert 
 de Malvoisin, who acted as godfathers to the champion. 
 They were in their robes of peace, the white dress of the 
 Order. Behind them followed other companions of the 
 Temple, with a long train of esquires and pages clad in 
 black, aspirants to the honour of being one day knights 
 of the Order. After these neophytes came a guard of 
 
480 IVANHOE. 
 
 warders on foot, in the same sable livery, amidst whose 
 partisans might be seen the pale form of the accused, 
 moving with a slow but undismayed step towards the 
 scene of her fate. She was stript of all her ornaments, 
 lest perchance there should be among them some of those 
 amulets which Satan was supposed to bestow upon his 
 victims, to deprive them of the power of confession even 
 when under the torture. A coarse white dress, of the 
 simplest form, had been substituted for her Oriental gar- 
 ments ; 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 hard- 
 ened bigot regretted the fate that had converted a crea- 
 ture 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 tiltyard, 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 all his attendants, excepting the champion 
 and his godfathers, dismounted from their horses, which 
 were immediately removed out of the lists by the esquires, 
 who were in attendance for that purpose. 
 
 The unfortunate Rebecca was conducted to the black 
 chair placed near the pile. On her first glance at the 
 terrible spot where preparations were making for a death 
 alike dismaying to the mind, and painful to the body, she 
 was observed to shudder and shut her eyes, praying inter- 
 nally, 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 familiarise her mind 
 with the object, and then slowly and naturally turned 
 away her head. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Grand Master had assumed his seat; 
 and when the chivalry of his Order was placed around 
 
IVANHOE. 481 
 
 and behind him, each in his due rank, a loud and long 
 nourish of the trumpets announced that the court were 
 seated for judgment. Malvoisin then, acting as godfather 
 of the champion, stepped forward, and laid the glove of 
 the Jewess, which was the pledge of battle, at the feet 
 of the Grand Master. 
 
 "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 
 standeth, such battle to do, knightly and honourable, if 
 such be your noble and sanctified pleasure." 
 
 " Hath he made oath," said the Grand Master, " that 
 his quarrel is just and honourable ? 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 Mont-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- 
 Guilbert to take such an oath before the assembly, and 
 had invented this excuse to escape the necessity of his 
 doing so. 
 
 The Grand Master, having allowed the apology of Al- 
 bert 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 law- 
 2i 
 
482 IV AN HOE. 
 
 fill essoine of her own body; and to such champion the 
 reverend and valorous Grand Master here present allows 
 a fair field, and equal partition of sun and wind, and 
 whatever else appertains to a fair combat." The trum- 
 pets 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 his horse's 
 head toward that end of the lists, in spite of hints on 
 either side from Malvoisin and Mont-Fitchet, was by the 
 side of Rebecca's chair as soon as the herald. 
 
 " Is this regular, and according to the law of combat ? " 
 said Malvoisin, looking to the Grand Master. 
 
 "Albert de Malvoisin, it is," answered Beaumanoir; 
 " for in this appeal to the judgment of God we may not 
 prohibit parties from having that communication with 
 each other which may best tend to bring forth" the truth 
 of the quarrel." 
 
 In the meantime, the herald spoke to Rebecca in these 
 terms : " Damsel, the honourable and reverend the Grand 
 Master demands of thee, if thou art prepared with a 
 champion to do battle this day in thy behalf, or if thou 
 dost yield thee as one justly condemned to a deserved 
 doom ? " 
 
 " Say to the Grand Master," replied Rebecca, " that I 
 maintain my innocence,' and do not yield me as justly 
 condemned, lest I become guilty of mine own blood. Say 
 to him, that I challenge such delay as his forms will 
 permit, to see if God, whose opportunity is in man's 
 extremity, will raise me up a deliverer ; and when such 
 uttermost space is 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 shad- 
 ows be cast from the west to the eastward, will we wait 
 to see if a champion shall appear for this unfortunate 
 
IVANHOE. 483 
 
 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 towards heaven, seemed 
 to expect that aid from above which she could scarce 
 promise herself from man. During this awful pause, 
 the voice of Bois-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 faggots — I know their 
 purpose, and yet it appears to me like something unreal — 
 the fearful picture of a vision, which appals my sense 
 with hideous fantasies, but convinces not my reason." 
 
 " My mind and senses keep touch and time," answered 
 Rebecca, " and tell me alike that these faggots are des- 
 tined to consume my earthly body, and open a painful 
 but a brief passage to a better world." 
 
 " Dreams, Rebecca — dreams," answered the Templar — 
 "idle visions, rejected by the wisdom of your own wiser 
 Sadducees. Hear me, Rebecca," he said, proceeding with 
 animation ; " a better chance hast thou for life and liberty 
 than yonder knaves and dotard 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 list of monas- 
 tic 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 
 
484 IVANHOE. 
 
 extremity canst thou move me one hair's-Oreadth 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 dura- 
 tion 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 ? " 
 
 " 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 li^ts, await- 
 ing in vain the appearance of a champion. 
 
 " And reason good," said Friar Tuck, " seeing she is a 
 Jewess ; and yet, by mine Order, it is hard that so young 
 and beautiful a creature should perish without one blow 
 being struck 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 towards the lists. 
 A hundred voices exclaimed, "A champion! — a chain- 
 
IVAN HOE. 485 
 
 pion ! " And, despite the prepossessions and prejudices 
 of the multitude, they shouted unanimously as the knight 
 rode into the tiltyard. 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, ap- 
 peared to reel from fatigue, and the rider, however un- 
 dauntedly he presented himself in the lists, either from 
 weakness, weariness, or both, seemed scarce able to sup- 
 port himself in the saddle. 
 
 To the summons of the herald, who demanded his rank, 
 his name, and purpose, the stranger knight answered 
 readily and boldly : " I am a good knight and noble, 
 come hither to sustain with lance and sword the just and 
 lawful quarrel of this damsel, 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- 
 Guilbert, 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 show," said Malvoisin, " that 
 he is good knight, and of honourable lineage. The Tem- 
 ple sendeth not forth her champions against nameless 
 men." 
 
 "My name," said the knight, raising his helmet, "is 
 better known, my lineage more pure, Malvoisin, than 
 thine own. I am Wilfred of Ivanhoe." 
 
 "I will not fight with thee at present," said the Templar, 
 in a changed and hollow voice. " Get thy wounds healed, 
 purvey thee a better horse, and it may be I will hold it 
 worth my while to scourge out of thee this boyish spirit 
 of bravado." 
 
 " Ha ! proud Templar," said Ivanhoe, " hast thou for- 
 gotten that twice didst thou fall before this lance ? Re- 
 member 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 
 Ivanhoe, and recover the honour thou hadst lost ! By 
 that reliquary, and the holy relic it contains, I will pro- 
 
486 IV AN HOE. 
 
 claim thee, Templar, a coward in every court in Europe 
 — in every Preceptory of thine Order — unless thou do 
 battle without farther delay." 
 
 Bois-Guilbert turned his countenance irresolutely to- 
 wards Rebecca, and then exclaimed, looking fiercely at 
 Ivanhoe : " Dog of a Saxon ! take thy lance, and prepare 
 for the death thou hast drawn upon thee ! " 
 
 " Does the Grand Master allow me the combat ? " said 
 Ivanhoe. 
 
 " I may not deny what thou hast challenged," said the 
 Grand Master, " provided the maiden accepts thee as her 
 champion. Yet I would thou wert in better plight to do 
 battle. An enemy of our Order hast thou ever been, yet 
 would I have thee honourably met with." 
 
 " Thus — thus as I am, and not otherwise," said Ivan- 
 hoe; "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 
 emotions by which he had been agitated, continued dur- 
 ing the whole morning of an ashy paleness, was now be- 
 come suddenly very much flushed. 
 
 The herald then, seeing each champion in his place, 
 uplifted his voice, repeating thrice : " Faitcs 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 
 

 
 
 '«^ . «■- 
 
 «»&5^"-;, toJ 
 
 
 {jO iVred , fc>lACtr»<4 his -fr>oT^on Jjia /ar-tast 
 
IVANHOE. 487 
 
 other in full career. The wearied horse of Ivanhoe, and 
 its no less exhausted rider, went down, as all had ex- 
 pected, 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 
 returned no answer. 
 
 " Slay him not, Sir Knight," cried the Grand Master, 
 " unshriven and unabsolved — kill not body and soul ! 
 We allow him vanquished." 
 
 He descended into the lists, and commanded them to 
 unhelm the conquered champion. His eyes were closed ; 
 the dark red flush was still on his brow. As they looked 
 on him in astonishment, the eyes opened ; but they were 
 fixed and glazed. The flush passed from his brow, and 
 gave way to the pallid hue of death. Unscathed by the 
 lance of his enemy, he had died a victim to the violence 
 of his own contending passions. 
 
 " This is indeed the judgment of God," said the Grand 
 Master, looking upwards — " Fiat voluntas tua I " 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 So ! 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- 
 
488 IVANHOE. 
 
 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 horses' feet, 
 advancing in such numbers, and so rapidly, as to shake 
 the ground before them; and the Black Knight gal- 
 loped into the lists. He was followed by a numerous 
 band of men-at-arms, and several knights in complete 
 armour. 
 
 " 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 its victim. He was not to be honoured 
 in dying as your will had designed," 
 
 " Peace be with him," said Eichard, 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, 
 and, laying his hand on the shoulder of Albert de Mal- 
 voisin, 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 pres- 
 ence 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 pres- 
 ent. Conrade Mont-Fitchet, it is well for thee thou art 
 born no subject of mine. But for thee, Malvoisin, thou 
 
IYANHOE. 489 
 
 diest with thy brother Philip ere the world be a week 
 older." 
 
 " I will resist thy doom," said the Grand Master. 
 
 "Proud Templar," said the King, "thou canst not — 
 look up, and behold the royal standard of England floats 
 over thy towers instead of thy Temple banner ! Be wise, 
 Beaumanoir, and make no bootless opposition. Thy hand 
 is in the lion's mouth." 
 
 " I will appeal to Rome against thee," said the Grand 
 Master, " for usurpation on the immunities and privi- 
 leges 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 gentesV Knights, squires, and fol- 
 lowers of the Holy Temple, prepare to follow the banner 
 of Beau-seant I " 
 
 The Grand Master spoke with a dignity which con- 
 fronted 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 defiance, and looks which menaced the 
 hostility they dared not to proffer in words. They drew 
 together in a dark line of spears, from which the white 
 cloaks of the knights were visible among the dusky 
 garments of their retainers, like the lighter-coloured 
 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 
 
490 IVANHOE. 
 
 their assembled force, dashed the rowels into his charger's 
 sides, and galloped backwards and forwards to array his 
 followers, in opposition to a band so formidable. Richard 
 alone, as if he loved the danger his presence had pro- 
 voked, rode slowly along the front of the Templars, call- 
 ing aloud : " What, sirs ! Among so many gallant knights, 
 will none dare to splinter a spear with Richard ? — Sirs 
 of the Temple ! your ladies are but sunburned, if they 
 are not worth the shiver of a broken lance ! " 
 
 " The brethren of the Temple," said the Grand Master, 
 riding forward in advance of their body, " fight not on 
 such idle and profane quarrel ; and not with thee, Richard 
 of England, shall a Templar cross lance in my presence. 
 The Pope and princes of Europe shall judge our quarrel, 
 and whether a Christian prince has done well in buckler- 
 ing the cause which thou hast to-day adopted. If un- 
 assailed, we depart assailing no one. To thine honour 
 we refer the armour 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 ancl superior force, which 
 compelled them to withdraw. 
 
 " By the splendour of Our Lady's brow ! " said King 
 Richard, " it is pity of their lives that these Templars 
 are not so trusty, as they are disciplined and valiant." 
 
 The multitude, like a timid cur which waits to bark till 
 the object of its challenge has turned his back, raised a 
 feeble shout as the rear of the squadron left the ground. 
 
 During the tumult which attended the retreat of the 
 Templars, Rebecca saw and heard nothing ; she was locked 
 in the arms of her aged father, giddy, and almost sense- 
 less, with the rapid change of circumstances around her. 
 
IVAKHOE. 491 
 
 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. "Oh 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 
 acknowledged." 
 
 " It is — it is — most thankfully — most devoutly ac- 
 knowledged," said Rebecca ; " it shall be still more so — 
 but not now — for the sake of thv 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 — 
 let us hence ! Money he will lack, for he has just returned 
 from Palestine, and, as they say, from prison; and pretext 
 for exacting it, should he need any, may arise out of my 
 simple traffic with his brother John. Away — away, let 
 us hence ! " 
 
 And hurrying his daughter in his turn, he conducted 
 her from the lists, and by means of conveyance which he 
 had provided, transported her safely to the house of the 
 Rabbi Nathan. 
 
 The Jewess, whose fortunes had formed the principal 
 interest of the day, having now retired unobserved, the 
 attention of the populace was transferred to the Black 
 Knight. They now filled the air with " Long life to 
 Richard with the Lion's Heart, and down with the usurp- 
 ing Templars ! " 
 
 " Notwithstanding all this lip-loyalty," said Ivanhoe to 
 
492 IVANHOE. 
 
 the Earl of Essex, "it was well the King took the precau- 
 tion to bring thee with him, noble Earl, and so many of 
 thy trusty followers." 
 
 The Earl smiled and shook his head. 
 
 "Gallant Ivanhoe," said Essex, "dost thou know our 
 master so well, and yet suspect him of taking so wise a 
 precaution? I was drawing towards York, having heard 
 that Prince John was making head there, when I met 
 King Richard, like a true knight-errant, galloping hither 
 to achieve in his own person this adventure of the Templar 
 and the Jewess, with his own single arm. I accompanied 
 him with my band, almost maugre his consent." 
 
 "And what news from York, brave Earl ? " said Ivan- 
 hoe ; " will the rebels bide us there ? " 
 
 "No more than December's snow will bide July's sun," 
 said the Earl ; " they are dispersing ; and who should come 
 posting to bring us the news, but John himself ! " 
 
 "The traitor ! — the ungrateful, insolent traitor ! " said 
 Ivanhoe ; " did not Richard order him into confinement ? " 
 
 " Oh ! he received him," answered the Earl, " as if they 
 had met after a hunting party ; and, pointing to me and 
 our men-at-arms, said, l 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 
 meditates punishing some of the subordinate members of 
 the conspiracy, though he has pardoned their principal." 
 
 From the judicial investigations which followed on this 
 
IVANHOE. 493 
 
 occasion, and which are given at length in the Wardour 
 Manuscript, it appears that Maurice de Bracy escaped be- 
 yond 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 AVal- 
 demar 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 which 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 
 tushed and pshawed more than once at the message — but 
 he refused not obedience. In fact, the return of Richard 
 had quenched every hope that he had entertained of re- 
 storing a Saxon dynasty in England ; for, whatever head 
 the Saxons might have made in the event of a civil war, 
 it was plain that nothing could be done under the undis- 
 puted dominion of Richard, popular as he was by his 
 personal good qualities and military fame, although his 
 administration was wilfully careless — now too indulgent 
 and now allied to despotism. 
 
 But, moreover, it could not escape even Cedric's reluc- 
 tant 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 ardour for the Saxon cause, he could 
 not have anticipated ; and even when the disinclination 
 of both was broadly and plainly manifested, he could 
 scarce bring himself to believe that two Saxons of royal 
 descent should scruple, on personal grounds, at an alliance 
 so necessary for the public weal of the nation. But it 
 was not the less certain. Rowena had always expressed her 
 repugnance to Athelstane, and now Athelstane was no less 
 plain and positive in proclaiming his resolution never to 
 
494 IVANHOE. 
 
 pursue his addresses to the Lady Eowena. Even the 
 natural obstinacy of Cedric sunk beneath these obstacles, 
 where he, remaining on the point of junction, had the 
 task of dragging a reluctant pair up to it, one with each 
 hand. He made, however, a last vigorous attack on Athel- 
 stane, and he found that resuscitated sprout of Saxon 
 royalty engaged, like country squires of our own day, in 
 a furious war with the clergy. 
 
 It seems that, after all his deadly menaces against the 
 Abbot of St. 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, 
 attached, like most ladies (of the period), to the clerical 
 order, had terminated in his keeping the Abbot and his 
 monks in the dungeons of Coningsburgh for three days 
 on a meagre diet. For this atrocity the Abbot menaced 
 him with excommunication, and made out a dreadful list 
 of complaints in the bowels and stomach, suffered by him- 
 self and his monks, in consequence of the tyrannical and 
 unjust imprisonment they had sustained. With this con- 
 troversy, and with the means he had adopted to counter- 
 act this clerical persecution, Cedric found the mind of his 
 friend Athelstane so fully occupied, that it had no room 
 for another idea. And when Rowena'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 betwixt Cedric and the determination 
 which the lovers desired to come to, only two obstacles 
 — his own obstinacy, and his dislike of the Norman 
 dynasty. The former feeling gradually gave way before 
 the endearments of his ward and the pride which he 
 could not help nourishing in the fame of his son. Be- 
 sides, he was not insensible to the honour of allying his 
 own line to that of Alfred, when the superior claims of 
 the descendant of Edward the Confessor were abandoned 
 
IVAXHOE. 495 
 
 for ever. Cedric's aversion to the Xorruan race of kings 
 was also much undermined — first, by consideration of 
 the impossibility of ridding England of the new dynasty, 
 a feeling which goes far to create loyalty in the subject 
 to the king de facto ; and, secondly, by the personal at- 
 tention of King Richard, who delighted in the blunt 
 humour of Cedric, and to use the language of the War- 
 dour 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 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 
 splendour which she of Rome knows how to apply with 
 such brilliant effect. 
 
 Gurth, gallantly apparelled, attended as esquire upon 
 his young master, whom he had served so faithfully, 
 and the magnanimous Wamba, decorated with a new cap 
 and a most gorgeous set of silver bells. Sharers of Wil- 
 fred's dangers and adversitv, thev remained, as thev 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 Xormans, as well as Saxons, joined with the uni- 
 versal jubilee of the lower orders, that marked the 
 marriage of two individuals as a pledge of the future 
 peace and harmony betwixt two races, which, since that 
 period, have been so completely mingled that the dis- 
 tinction has become wholly invisible. Cedric lived to 
 see this union approximate towards its completion; for, 
 as the two nations mixed in society and formed inter- 
 marriages with each other, the Xormans abated their 
 
496 IVANHOE. 
 
 scorn, and the Saxons were refined from their rusticity. 
 But it was not until the reign of Edward the Third that 
 the mixed language, now termed English, was spoken at 
 the court of London, and that the hostile distinction of 
 Norman and Saxon seems entirely to have disappeared. 
 
 It was upon the second morning after this happy 
 bridal that the Lady Rowena was made acquainted by 
 her handmaid Elgitha, that a damsel desired admission 
 to her presence, and solicited that their parley might be 
 without witness. Rowena wondered, hesitated, became 
 curious, and ended by commanding the damsel to be ad- 
 mitted, and her attendants to withdraw. 
 
 She entered — a noble and commanding figure, the 
 long white veil, in which she was shrouded, overshadow- 
 ing rather than concealing the elegance and majesty of 
 her shape. Her demeanour was that of respect, un- 
 mingled by the least shade either of fear or of a wish to 
 propitiate favour. Rowena was ever ready to acknowl- 
 edge 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 Rowena 
 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 Rowena's resistance, kissed the embroidered 
 hem of her tunic. 
 
 "What means this, lady?" said the surprised bride; 
 " or why do you offer to me a deference so unusual ? " 
 
 "Because to you, Lady of Ivanhoe," said Rebecca, 
 rising up and resuming the usual quiet dignity of her 
 manner, "I may lawfully, and without rebuke, pay the 
 debt of gratitude which I owe to 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 tiltyard of Templestowe." 
 
 " Damsel," said Rowena, " Wilfred of Ivanhoe on that 
 day rendered back but in slight measure your unceasing 
 
IV AN HOE. 497 
 
 charity towards him in his wounds and misfortunes. 
 Speak, is there aught remains in which he or I can serve 
 thee?" 
 
 "Nothing," said Rebecca, calmly, "unless you will trans- 
 mit to him my grateful farewell." 
 
 "You leave England, then?" said Rowena, scarce re- 
 covering the surprise of this extraordinary visit. 
 
 "I leave it, lady, ere this moon again changes. My 
 father hath a brother high in favour with Mohammed 
 Boabdil, King of Grenada — thither we go, secure of peace 
 and protection, for the payment of such ransom as the 
 Moslem exact from our people." 
 
 "And are you not then as well protected in England?" 
 said Rowena. "My husband has favour with the King; 
 the King himself is just and generous." 
 
 "Lady," said Rebecca, "I doubt it not; but the people 
 of England are a fierce race, quarrelling ever with their 
 neighbours 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-laboured drudge, which 
 stoops between two burdens. Not in a land of war and 
 blood, surrounded by hostile neighbours, and distracted 
 by internal factions, can Israel hope to rest during her 
 wanderings." 
 
 "But you, maiden," said Rowena — "you surely can 
 have nothing to fear. She who nursed the sick-bed of 
 Ivanhoe," she continued, rising with enthusiasm, "she 
 can have nothing to fear in England, where Saxon and 
 Norman will contend who shall most do her honour." 
 
 "Thy speech is fair, lady," said Rebecca, "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 
 Rowena; "but, expecting the same from my visitant, I 
 remove the veil." 
 
 She took it off accordingly ; and, partly from the con- 
 2k 
 
498 IVANHOE. 
 
 sciousness of beauty, partly from bashfulness, she blushed 
 so intensely that cheek, brow, neck, and bosom were 
 suffused with crimson. Rebecca blushed also; but it was 
 a momentary feeling, and, mastered by higher emotions, 
 passed slowly from her features like the crimson cloud 
 which changes colour 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 colour of its original? Long, long will I 
 remember your features, and bless God that I leave my 
 noble deliverer united with " 
 
 She stopped short — her eyes filled with tears. She 
 hastily wiped them, and answered to the anxious inquiries 
 of Rowena: " I am well, lady — well. But my heart swells 
 when I think of Torquilstone and the lists of Temple- 
 stowe. — Farewell. One, the most trifling, part of my duty 
 remains undischarged. Accept this casket — startle not 
 at its contents." 
 
 Rowena opened the small silver-chased casket, and per- 
 ceived a carcanet, or necklace, with ear jewels, of dia- 
 monds, 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 hon- 
 our of his only child? Accept them, lady — to me they 
 are valueless. I will never wear jewels more." 
 
 "You are then unhappy!" said Rowena, struck with 
 
IVANHOE. 499 
 
 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 Rebecca, the same calm melan- 
 choly reigning in her soft voice and beautiful features — 
 "that may not be. I may not change the faith of my 
 fathers like a garment unsuited to the climate in which 
 I seek to dwell ; and unhappy, lady, I will not be. He 
 to whom I dedicate my future life will be my comforter, 
 if I do His will." 
 
 " Have you then convents, to one of which you mean to 
 retire ? " asked Rowena. 
 
 "No, lady," said the Jewess; "but among our people, 
 since the time of Abraham downwards, have been women 
 who have devoted their thoughts to Heaven, and their 
 actions to works of kindness to men — tending the sick, 
 feeding the hungry, and relieving the distressed. Among 
 these will Rebecca be numbered. Say this to thy lord, 
 should he chance to inquire after the fate of her whose 
 life he saved." 
 
 There was an involuntary tremour in Rebecca's voice, 
 and a tenderness of accent, which perhaps betrayed more 
 than she would willingly have expressed. She hastened 
 to bid Rowena adieu. 
 
 "Farewell," she said. "May He who made both Jew 
 and Christian shower down on you His choicest blessings ! 
 The bark that wafts us hence will be under weigh ere we 
 can reach the port." 
 
 She glided from the apartment, leaving Rowena sur- 
 prised as if a vision had passed before her. The fair 
 Saxon related the singular conference to her husband, on 
 whose mind it made a deep impression. He lived long 
 and happily with Rowena, for they were attached to each 
 other by the bonds of early affection, and they loved each 
 other the more from the recollection of the obstacles 
 which had impeded their union. Yet it would be inquir- 
 ing too curiously to ask whether the recollection of 
 Rebecca's beauty and magnanimity did not recur to his 
 mind more frequently than the fair descendant of Alfred 
 might altogether have approved. 
 
500 - IVANHOE. 
 
 Ivanhoe distinguished himself in the service of Richard, 
 and was graced with farther marks of the royal favour. 
 He might have risen still higher but for the premature 
 death of the heroic Coeur-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 ambition and his generosity had formed; to 
 whom may be applied, with a slight alteration, the lines 
 3omposed by Johnson for Charles of Sweden — 
 
 His fate was destined to a foreign strand, 
 A petty fortress and an " humble " hand ; 
 He left the name at which the world grew pale, 
 To point a moral, or adorn a tale. 
 
NOTE 
 
 The following plates are chosen from 
 Viollet-le-Duc's Dictionnaire de V Architec- 
 ture, from the account of the Chateau de 
 Coucy. This castle belongs to a period 
 somewhat later than the period of Ivanhoe, 
 and is more elaborate than Front-de-Boeuf*s 
 Torquilstone. But it shows all the peculi- 
 arities of the mediaeval castle, and exem- 
 plifies each of the features mentioned by 
 Scott in his account of the siege and de- 
 struction of Torquilstone. 
 
CHATEAU DE COUCY (Ground Plan) 
 
 A, Chapel; B, Donjon; C, D, Towers; E, Bridge across the Moat; E'E", Outer 
 Gates; FF', Guard House; G, Inner Gate; H, Guard Room; I, Curtain of the Fort- 
 ress ; K, Courtyard ; L, Servants' Quarters ; MM', Dwellings and Staircases ; N, Store- 
 house and Cellars ; O, Crypt of Chapel ; PP\ Kitchen and Stairway to Cellars ; R, 
 Kitchen Courtyard ; S, T, Towers; V, Rampart; XX', Pierced Postern and Well; Y, 
 Drawbridge ; Z, Prison with Staircase; 
 
CHATEAU DE COUCY (Exterior) 
 
 From Viollet-le-Duc's Dlctiunnaire de V Architecture 
 
DURHAM 
 
 \obui Hood 8 
 Harborough 
 
 'Jamborougk H 
 'malon B- 
 
 < T&r\.4KJ'Spe La louche Fire \' fo&Vhir* 
 
 v-^H"-Tl¥ic E S TE KSmtMfiS 
 
 JJVan. 
 
 FFOJK^I 
 
 MAP OF THE NORTHEASTERN PART OF ENGLAND 
 Where the leading events of Ivanhoe are supposed to have taken place 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Page 1. The Dragon of Wantley. Wantley was a popular 
 mispronunciation of Wharncliffe. Bishop Percy in the " Reliques„ . 
 of Ancient English Poetry" included a ballad which tells of the 
 conquest of a dragon^in this vicinity. The ballad is a burlesque, 
 and the dragon was inVented for the occasion. 
 
 8. the two-legged wolf. The outlaw was called the Wolf-man, 
 the companion of wolves. In one of Cynewulf's "Riddles 1 ' the 
 gallows is called the "wolf-head's tree." The outlaw was even 
 said to bear a wolf's head. 
 
 8. the ranger of the forest. "The disabling of dogs, which 
 might be necessary for keeping flocks and herds from running at 
 the deer, was called lawing and was in general use." (From Scott's 
 Note.) The ranger is an officer appointed by the king to enforce 
 the forest laws. 
 
 9. however it got into thy fool's pate. We may easily know 
 how it got into Scott's head. Lockhart says that " this play upon 
 the Norman and English names of the same objects was suggested 
 to Scott by his friend William Clerk." "Life of Scott," Vol. VI., 
 179. Study the etymology of the words swine, pork; ox, beef; 
 calf, veal. 
 
 9. Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, and Philip de Malvoisin. Scott 
 says that a roll of Norman warriors occurring in the Auchinleck 
 Ms. gave him "the formidable name of Front-de-Bceuf " — Bull's 
 Front ; the composition of Malvoisin is evident : mal voisin = bad 
 neighbor. 
 
 11. Flanders cloth. Strutt, in "The Dress and Habits of the 
 English People," Part III., Chap. I., mentions "the great number 
 of weavers who came from Flanders in the army of the Conqueror. 
 For even at that remote period the Flemings were so skilful in the 
 manufacturing of wool that . . . the art of weaving seemed to be 
 a peculiar gift bestowed upon them by Nature." 
 
 501 
 
502 NOTES. 
 
 11. A monk there was. In this extract from the Prologue and 
 in that from The Knights Tale at the head of Chapter XII. Scott 
 has modernized Chaucer's spelling, to the detriment of the metre 
 in many lines. The student should read the description of the 
 monk in the Prologue, and note Scott's debt to Chaucer. 
 
 12. Continues. (See Introduction, " Suggested Emendations.") 
 
 13. Four regular orders of monks. Dominicans, Franciscans, 
 Augustinians, and Carmelites ; to be distinguished from the mili- 
 tary orders. 
 
 14. Prior of Jorvaulx Abbey. Scott does not distinguish be- 
 tween the head of a Priory and of an Abbey, calling this monk 
 sometimes a Prior and sometimes an Abbot. 
 
 14. Clergy, whether secular or regular. The regular clergy are 
 those who live in some religious house, as monks ; the secular 
 clergy are those whose duties lie among the people, as priests. 
 
 18. the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. There were in all 
 nine Crusades or expeditions of Christians to Jerusalem to recover 
 the sepulchre of Christ from the Mohammedans. In the First 
 Crusade (1096) Jerusalem was taken by the Christians. It was 
 retaken in 1187 by the Mohammedans under Saladin. The Third 
 Crusade (1189-92), led by Richard of England, Frederick Bar- 
 barossa of Germany, and Philip of France, secured only a three 
 years' truce with Saladin. 
 
 18. Knights Templars, one of three military orders of monks, 
 the others being the Knights Hospitallers or Knights of St. John, 
 and the Teutonic Knights. The Templars were so called from the 
 fact of their having as headquarters the Mosque of St. Omar on 
 the reputed site of Solomon's Temple. The order became very 
 rich and influential, and finally very corrupt, and was suppressed 
 in 1312. 
 
 20. Hereward, an English warrior who made the last stand 
 against William the Conqueror in the Isle of Ely, in 1070. 
 
 20. the Heptarchy, the union of the seven principal Anglo- 
 Saxon kingdoms. It came to an end in 829. The discrepancy in 
 the dates we may attribute to the Prior's contemptuous ignorance 
 of English history. 
 
 24. wound. Scott elsewhere uses the correct preterit of the 
 verb wind, winded, pp. 213, 223, etc. 
 
 24. In a hall. Scott has evidently taken much pains to give an 
 accurate as well as a charming picture of the Old English hall. 
 
NOTES. 503 
 
 25. Carpets, probably an anachronism. In the Middle Ages 
 carpets for the floor were practically unknown. Hangings and 
 covers for tables were called carpets. Floor- carpets were not com- 
 mon before the seventeenth century. 
 
 26. the Dividers of Bread. Lord and lady in their Old Eng- 
 ish forms were hlaford and hlafdige — two words best explained as 
 "loaf-keeper and loaf-kneader." 
 
 26. Cedric. It has been pointed out that this name should be 
 Cerdic. The latter was the form of the name of the first king of 
 Wessex (519), and was a highly honored name among the Eng- 
 lish. 
 
 27. Cedric's dress. Strutt's splendid work "The Dresse and 
 Habits of the English People " was published in 1796-99. It is 
 clear from many details in "Ivanhoe," that Scott had studied it 
 with care. 
 
 29. warders. " The original has Cnichts, by which the Saxons 
 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 alder- 
 men and thanes. But the term cnicht, now spelt knight, having 
 been received into the English language as equivalent to the Nor- 
 man word chevalier, I have avoided using it in its more ancient 
 sense, to prevent confusion." — Scott. 
 
 31. His brother, etc. Scott is never skilful in disguising the 
 information-giving function of his conversations. They too often 
 seem directed at the reader, rather than exchanged between the 
 speakers. 
 
 35. Uncle Cedric. The title uncle was used by fools in mock 
 familiarity with their masters. 
 
 36. disforested in terms of the great Forest Charter. The 
 great charter, disforesting or throwing open to the people much 
 English forest, was not given till 1215. 
 
 39. her namesake. Rowena was the name of the legendary 
 wife of Vortigern, a British king of the fifth century. (See the 
 Century Dictionary, under wassail.) 
 
 41. The swineherd will be a fit usher to the Jew. The jests 
 about the Jew and the various forms and phases of swine, consti- 
 tute much of the comic " business" of " Ivanhoe." One may almost 
 believe that Gurth's occupation was determined by the author in 
 view of the possibilities it offered for this jest, 
 
504 NOTES. 
 
 44. Surely no tongue is so rich, etc. "There was no language 
 which the Normans more formally separated from that of common 
 Me 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 hunting strictly to 
 themselves, the terms of this formal jargon were all taken from the 
 French language." — Scott. 
 
 44. the field of North Allerton. The English barons defeated 
 the Scotch invaders in 1138 in a battle at North Allerton, a village 
 in the North Riding of Yorkshire. The English were led by Arch- 
 bishop Thurstan, and the fight was called the battle of the Holy 
 Standard. (See Green's " Short History," Chap. II., Section VII.) 
 
 46. St. John de Acre. Acre, a seaport of Palestine, was taken 
 by the Crusaders under Richard I. in 1191. 
 
 47. the Knight of Ivanhoe. We are to understand that Wilfred 
 the son of Cedric had received the estate of Ivanhoe from King 
 Richard, and that he had gone to Palestine with the king. 
 
 50. Exchequer of the Jews. " In those days the Jews were sub- 
 jected to an Exchequer specially dedicated to that purpose, and 
 which laid them under the most exorbitant impositions." — Scott. 
 
 54. Cyprus. Richard captured the Island of Cyprus on the 
 way toward Palestine in 1191. 
 
 57. the misery of Lazarus. Is this a natural allusion for the 
 Jew? 
 
 62. those of the host of Pharaoh. (See the account in Exodus 
 xiv.) 
 
 65. the rod of Moses. (See Exodus iv.) 
 
 68. salvage or silvan man. "This sort of masquerade is sup- 
 posed to have occasioned the introduction of supporters into the 
 science of heraldry." — Scott. 
 
 72. a stout, well-set yeoman. Scott's debt to Chaucer is here 
 so striking that we cannot but wonder that he did not give credit 
 for his details. Read the description of the Yeoman in the Pro- 
 logue to the " Canterbury Tales." 
 
 72. Knights of St. John — called also Knights Hospitallers and, 
 
NOTES? 505 
 
 in more modern times, Knights of Malta ; originally an association 
 of brethren who maintained a hospital in Jerusalem for the care 
 of sick pilgrims. Later they became a military organization, bit- 
 ter rivals of the Templars. The order is still in existence. See 
 " Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11 article on Saint John of Jerusalem, etc. 
 
 76. descent from the Last of the Saxon monarchs. Scott 
 makes much use of this supposititious descent of Athelstane from 
 Edward the Confessor. But it is well known that this monarch 
 had no descendants. (See Freeman, " Norman Conquest," II.) 
 
 77. Wat Tyrrel's mark. King William Kufus was found dead 
 in the forest, slain by an arrow supposed to have been shot by Sir 
 Walter Tyrrel, with whom he was hunting,, 
 
 77. his grandfather. William Rufus was in fact the brother 
 of John's great-grandfather. 
 
 83. Lines from a contemporary. The contemporary was 
 Coleridge. Scott does not quote the lines quite accurately. See 
 Coleridge's lines, "The Knight's Tomb." 
 
 85. attaint. " This term of chivalry, transferred to the law, gives 
 the phrase of being attainted of treason." — Scott. 
 
 89. rider. (See Introduction, "Suggested Emendations.") 
 
 102. signs and sounds. (See Introduction, " Suggested Emenda- 
 tions.") 
 
 107. robed the seething billows in my choice silks. Is there 
 not here something more than a reminiscence of "The Merchant 
 of Venice," I. i. 34, 35: 
 
 " Scatter all her spices on the stream, 
 Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks " 9 
 
 108. Sabaoth. "Sabaoth" and " Sabbath" are two quite dis- 
 tinct Hebrew words. 
 
 111. dipt within the ring A coin that was dipt was one that 
 had lost some of its metal. A coin that was " cracked within the 
 ring " was one that was defaced by a crack extending farther in 
 than the ring about the edge. Scott's combination of the two 
 expressions may be a reminiscence of " Hamlet," II. ii, 456. 
 
 112. Goliath the Philistine. (See Samuel xvii. 7.) 
 
 112. the miller, etc. The mediaeval miller took toll, that is, 
 reserved a portion of the meal to pay for the grinding. The toll- 
 dish was his measure. He tested the fineness of the flour by feel 
 
506 NOTES. 
 
 ing it between his thumb and finger. The miller's dishonesty in 
 measuring and testing was proverbial, the "toll-dish 1 ' and "the 
 miller's thumb " being symbols of this. It would seem that Scott 
 uses these two terms to give an antique flavor to his passage, and 
 does not use them accurately. (See Chaucer's Prologue, 562-3.) 
 
 127. " Beau-s6ant was the name of the Templar's 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." — Scott. 
 
 144. his arrow split the willow wand. In one of the old bal- 
 lads the feat of splitting another arrow already in the target is 
 attributed to Clim of the Clough, and in the same ballad William 
 of Cloudesley is said to have " clove in two " a hazel rod at four 
 hundred yards. Robin Hood in several of his trials at archery 
 cleaves the wand at sixty yards. 
 
 150. the British Crown. Professor Perry points out the anach- 
 ronism of John's allusion to the British Crown. 
 
 151. nidering. "There was nothing accounted so ignominious 
 among the Saxons as to merit this disgraceful epithet. Even Will- 
 iam the Conqueror, hated as he was by them, continued to draw a 
 considerable army of Anglo-Saxons to his standard, by threaten- 
 ing to stigmatize those who stayed at home, as nidering. Bartho- 
 linus, I think, mentions a similar phrase which had like influence 
 on the Danes." — Scott. (See Green's " Short History," Chap. I., 
 Section II.) 
 
 155. Chapter XV. The first volume of the first edition closed 
 with the fourteenth chapter. 
 
 155. And yet he thinks, etc. Scott says in the Introduction to 
 the " Chronicles of the Canongate," " The scraps of poetry which 
 have been in most cases tacked to the beginning of chapters in 
 these novels are sometimes quoted either from reading or from 
 memory but, in the general case, are pure invention. . . . I believe 
 that in some cases, when actual names are affixed to the supposed 
 quotations, it would be to little purpose to seek them in the authors 
 referred to." 
 
 155. Cabal. This word is made up of the initials of the mem- 
 bers of the Cabinet of 1671, Clifford, Arlington, Buckingham, Ash- 
 ley, Lauderdale. 
 
 156. Richard's title of primogeniture. (See Green's "Short 
 History," Chapter II., Section VI.) 
 
NOTES. 507 
 
 158. De Bracy's version of the Prior's tale is a clever imitation 
 of the method of some of the mediaeval story-tellers in mixing up 
 details from different times, races, and countries, especially of the 
 naive confusion of Biblical and chivalric characteristics and ex- 
 periences. 
 
 165. the road. In the ballad which suggested to Scott the 
 meeting of the Black Knight and the Friar (see Introduction) 
 occurs the detail of the difficult road. Otherwise we might regard 
 it as a trick of the Hermit of Copmanhurst to obtain company for 
 the night. All the Hermit's preliminary reluctance seems a play 
 of humor rather than a design to deceive or discourage the Knight. 
 
 166. noise of barking and growling. The association of the 
 Hermit of Copmanhurst with the great dogs may be a reminiscence 
 of the ballad of " Robin Hood and the Curtal Friar," in which the 
 Friar has command of a company of ferocious bandogs. (See 
 Child's » English and Scottish Ballads," Vol. V.) 
 
 169. the ram at a wrestling-match, etc. A ram was the cus- 
 tomary prize at a wrestling match. See Chaucer's Prologue, 548, 
 and Strutt's " Sports and Pastimes of the English People." 
 
 The prize in a bout of quarter-staff varied. 
 
 To " bear the buckler " at sword-play or fencing was to win. To 
 /ay down the buckler was to declare oneself vanquished. 
 
 172. an my gown saved me not. In old English law, the persons 
 of all ecclesiastics were exempted from criminal proceeding. (See 
 the phrase "benefit of clergy.") 
 
 173. the scissors of Delilah, etc. (See Judges xvi. 18.) 
 
 173. The tenpenny nail of Jael — Judges iv. In the Authorized 
 Version, Jael's weapon is called a nail of the tent ; in the Revised 
 Version, "a tent-pin." The Friar's term is a comically lucky 
 suggestion of both. 
 
 173. The scimitar of Goliath — 1 Samuel xvii. 
 
 1 74. The Jolly Hermit. ' 'All readers, however slightly acquainted 
 with black-letter, must recognize in the Clerk of Copmanhurst 
 Friar Tuck, the buxom confessor of Robin Hood's gang, the Curtal 
 Friar of Fountain's Abbey." — Scott. 
 
 From the ballad of " Robin Hood and the Curtal Friar," we may 
 infer that this Friar became a member of Robin Hood's gang ; but 
 there is nothing in the ballads to tell us that it was in the capacity 
 of a confessor. Neither is Friar Tuck mentioned in the Robin 
 Hood ballads. He became associated with Robin Hood in the May 
 
508 NOTES. 
 
 games, and, in certain later ballads, is twice mentioned as belong- 
 ing to the gang. The identification of the Curtal Friar of Foun- 
 tain's Abbey and Friar Tuck is Scott's own fortunate invention. 
 
 175. Allan-a-dale. The Scotch minstrel who joined himself to 
 Robin Hood's band. 
 
 175, A sirvente in the language of oc, etc. "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 as oui, and the inhabitants of the southern regions, 
 whose speech, bearing some affinity to the Italian, pronounced the 
 same word oc. The poets of the former race were called Minstrels, 
 and their poems lays : those of the latter were termed Trouba- 
 dours, and their compositions called sirventes, and other names. 
 Richard, a professed admirer of the joyous science in 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 the anach- 
 ronism, if there be one, may readily be forgiven."' — Scott. 
 
 177. derry-down chorus. " 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. " — Scott. 
 
 177. The Barefooted Friar. Mendicant friars were not known 
 in England till after 1274. See, in connection with these verses, 
 Chaucer's picture of the Frere in the Prologue. 
 
 178. primes, noons, etc. The " hours " of the church were seven : 
 Nocturns at midnight; matins, called also lauds, in one of the 
 three hours before sunrise ; primes, in the first hour after sunrise ; 
 terce, sexte, and none, or noons, in the third, sixth, and ninth 
 hours after sunrise ; and vespers in the last hour before sunset. 
 
 179. the tongs of St. Dunstan. There is a well-known legend 
 of St. Dunstan vanquishing the devil by seizing him by the nose 
 with his tongs. 
 
 179. Ariosto, a famous Italian poet (d. 1533), whose great poem 
 "Orlando Furioso" is so rich in incident and episode that it has 
 been said to have no unity. Scott reflects many times his interest 
 in Ariosto. 
 
 
NOTES. 509 
 
 185. This Saxon Confederacy is an invention of Scott's. 
 
 189. invoking the protection, etc. All invocations, oaths, im- 
 precations, etc., are un-Jewish. It may be that the Jews of the 
 Middle Ages contracted the habit of invocation from Christians, 
 with whom it seems to have been prevalent. Witness the list of 
 thirty-three saints in the glossary of this story. This passage must 
 be taken as a measure of Isaac's perturbation rather than as a 
 credible picture. 
 
 196. Cow-keeper. (See Introduction, " Suggested Emenda- 
 tions.") 
 
 197. Watling Street. One of the great Roman roads in Eng- 
 land. Watling Street ran from Dover through London to Chester. 
 The name is used here, as in the " Little Geste of Robin Hood," of 
 the Great North Road. 
 
 209. Harold, etc. The English king who was defeated by Will- 
 iam the Norman at the battle of Hastings in 1066. Tosti (Tostig) 
 his brother had joined the Norwegians against Harold. (See 
 Green's "Short History," Chapter II., Section IV.) At the time 
 when Cedric was supposed to be speaking Harold had been dead a 
 hundred and thirty years. The anachronisms connected with 
 Torquil Wolfganger and with his daughter Ulrica, who appears 
 later, may be easily traced. 
 
 211. Hardicanute — or Harthacanute, a brutal king of the Danish 
 line in England (1040-1042) who died of hard drinking. 
 
 223. twice winded. (See Introduction, "Suggested Emenda- 
 tions.") 
 
 230. And here we cannot but think, etc. The remainder of 
 this chapter, beginning with these words, were added by Scott after 
 the story was completed in its first form. 
 
 231. the industrious Henry. Scott cites Henry's " History of 
 Great Britain," edit. 1805, Vol. VII., p. 346. The original of the 
 quotation is in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle of the year 1137. It is 
 quoted also by Green. (See " Short History," Chapter II. , Section 
 VII.) 
 
 231. the Princess Matilda. (See Green's "Short History," 
 Chapter II., Section VI.), for an account of this experience of 
 Matilda. She died in 1118. 
 
 232. Eadmer. A monk of Canterbury whose " Historia Novo- 
 rurn" and "Life of Anselm " are the chief historical sources for 
 the reign of William Second. 
 
510 NOTES. 
 
 233. Zernebock, or Czernibog, a demon. Mr. Freeman in the 
 Norman Conquest calls him " a Sclavonic idol," and points out the 
 incongruity in Scott's use of the name. 
 
 238. Most Christian king. A title conferred upon various 
 French kings from very early times. 
 
 241. arms reversed. Said of the coat of arms when the design 
 was inverted or made to face in the direction contrary to the usual 
 one. Here assumed to be a sign of dishonor. 
 
 245. St. Niobe. "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.' " — Scott. 
 
 253. a poor brother of the Order of St. Francis. A member of 
 the Order of Franciscans, named from St. Francis of Assisi. The 
 Order was not founded until 1210. The Franciscans first came to 
 England in 1226. 
 
 262. Thou the daughter of Torquil Wolf ganger! This anach- 
 ronism has been noted in the note on p. 209. 
 
 266. and yet retain the power to prevent. (See Introduction, 
 " Suggested Emendations.") 
 
 296. " The quiver rattleth," etc. (See Job xxxiv. 23.) 
 
 298. a bar of iron, etc. A writer in the Quarterly Beview 
 accused Scott of false heraldry in this device, since it was not 
 allowed to charge metal upon metal. Scott defends the device in 
 one of the notes appended to the 1829 edition of " Ivan hoe." 
 
 301. The outer barrier of the barbican. "Every Gothic castle 
 and city had, beyond the outer walls, a fortification 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." — Scott. 
 
 330. Whet the bright steel. ' ' It will readily occur to the anti- 
 quary that these verses are intended to imitate the antique poetry 
 of the scalds, the minstrels of the old Scandinavians. . . . The 
 poetry of the Anglo-Saxons, after their civilization and conversion, 
 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." — Scott. 
 
 331. Chapter XXXII. The second volume closed with Chapter. 
 XXXI. 
 
NOTES. 511 
 
 351. But when churchman and layman, etc. For a most inter- 
 esting comparison, see "The Merchant of Venice," I. iii. 112-130. 
 
 353. thou wilt have six hundred crowns, etc. Isaac puts the 
 Prior's ransom at six hundred, the Prior Isaac's at a thousand, 
 crowns. Locksley offers to take the Jew at one hundred crowns 
 lower than the Prior — five hundred crowns. Isaac will therefore 
 have ./we, not six, hundred crowns remaining. (See p. 355.) 
 
 359. hedge-priest, the outlaw's chaplain. "It is curious to 
 observe that, in every state of society, some sort of ghostly con- 
 solation is provided for the members of the community, though 
 assembled for purposes diametrically opposite to religion. . . . 
 Hence the fighting parson in the. old play of Sir John Oldcastle, 
 and the famous friar of Robin Hood's band. Nor were such char- 
 acters ideal. There exists a monition of the Bishop of Durham 
 against irregular churchmen of this class, who associated them- 
 selves with Border robbers, and desecrated the holiest offices of 
 the priestly function by celebrating them for the benefit of thieves, 
 robbers, and murderers, amongst ruins and in caverns of the earth, 
 without regard to canonical form, and with torn and dirty attire, 
 and maimed rites, altogether improper for the occasion." — Scott. 
 
 363. bloody with spurring, etc. The line in "Richard II.." 
 II. iii. 58, reads : " Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.'''' 
 
 365. the archbishop is my sworn brother. " The Archbishop of 
 York at this time was Geoffrey, a half-brother of Richard and 
 John." — Perry's "Ivanhoe." Sworn brothers were companions 
 in arms who, according to the laws of chivalry, vowed to share 
 their dangers or successes with each other. 
 
 366. your sire Henry. Henry I. was the grandfather of John 
 and Richard. 
 
 368. Tracy, Morville, etc. " Reginald Fitzurse, William de 
 Tracy, Hugh de Morville, and Richard Brito, were the gentlemen 
 of Henry the Second's household, who, instigated by some passion- 
 ate expressions of their sovereign, slew Thomas-a-Becket. " — Scott. 
 
 372. Preceptories, Commanderies. " The establishments of the 
 Knights Templars were called Preceptories, and the title of those 
 who presided in the Order was Preceptor ; as the principal Knights 
 of St. John were termed Commanders, and their houses Command- 
 eries. But these terms were sometimes, it would seem, used indis- 
 criminately." — Scott. 
 
512 NOTES. 
 
 373. extended his glove. David really says: "To Edom will 
 I cast my shoe " (as to a slave). (See Psalms lx. 8 and cviii. 9.) 
 373. fiery furnace, etc. (See Daniel iii. 19.) 
 
 375. the rule of St. Bernard. The statutes governing the 
 Order of Templars were drawn up under the supervision of Ber- 
 nard of Clairvaux. 
 
 376. Temple Church. (See Glossary.) This church contains, 
 among tombs of many famous Templars, that of William de 
 Mareschal, who died in 1219, and that of Robert de Ros, who 
 died in 1227. Note the dates. 
 
 376. Ut leo semper, etc. "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." — Scott. 
 
 378. the streaks of leprosy. "See the 13th chapter of Leviti- 
 cus." — Scott. 
 
 378. the brand of Phineas. Numbers xxv. 
 
 386. the ten thousand virgins. There is a legend that eleven 
 thousand virgins, returning from a pilgrimage to Rome with St. 
 Ursula as leader, were killed by the Huns at Cologne. A collec- 
 tion of bones, still preserved in the Church of St. Ursula at 
 Cologne, is shown as those of the martyred virgins. 
 
 396. Holy Saint Bernard, etc. " The reader is referred to the 
 Rules of the Poor Military Brotherhood of the Temple, which occur 
 in the ' Works of St. Bernard.' " — Scott. 
 
 402. Nathan ben Samuel. Samuel is obviously a slip for 
 Israel. (See pp. 371 and 372.) 
 
 414. Benoni instead of Rebecca. Rebecca means " of enchant- 
 
 * 
 
 ing beauty " ; Benoni, "son (child) of my sorrow." (See Genesis' 
 xxxv. 18.) 
 
 418. Babel's streams. See Psalm cxxxvii. 1. 
 
 424. Conrade Marquis of Montserrat. A Crusader who was 
 chosen king of Jerusalem in 1192. 
 
 446. Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest. This ballad hero was 
 doubtless a legendary character — a type outlaw. The dates of 
 the exploits celebrated in the ballads are very uncertain. For his 
 own purposes Scott makes him the leader of a gang of Saxon out- 
 laws. Various other dates are assigned. The first mention of 
 Robin Hood is in Langland's "Vision of Piers Ploughman" 
 
NOTES. 513 
 
 about 1377. Barnesdale and Sherwood Forest, both in the West 
 Riding of Yorkshire, are associated with him in the ballads. 
 
 "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 
 told." — Scott. 
 
 455. Little John. Robin Hood's trusty lieutenant and tried 
 friend. It must have taken real self-denial on Scott's part to send 
 him to Scotland during the action of this story. 
 
 457. as its Saxon name implies. Coningsburgh — Cyninges- 
 burh — King's castle. A note by Scott to the 1829 "Ivanhoe" 
 treats of its architecture. (See any full edition of the story, or the 
 Appendix to Perry's " Ivanhoe.") 
 
 463. To this all must. The omission of the verb come gives 
 this passage an antique flavor. The custom is rather Elizabethan, 
 however, than Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 464. the realms of woe — that sad place. Purgatory. 
 
 467. burst his cerements. In the use of this phrase and in the 
 " say for what cause thou dost revisit us," etc., there is an unmis- 
 takable reminiscence of " Hamlet," I. iv. 48 and 53. 
 
 474. " The resuscitation of Athelstane has been much criticised, 
 as too violent a breach of probability even for a work of such fan- 
 tastic character. It was a tour-de-force, to which the author was 
 compelled to have recourse by the vehement entreaties of his 
 friend and printer, who was inconsolable on the Saxon being con- 
 veyed to the tomb." — Scott. 
 
 475. a meeting of radical reformers. Scott's dislike for the 
 reformers of his day, and his contempt for the crowd, are two of 
 the few general opinions he reflects in the story. 
 
 490. your ladies are but sunburned. Your ladies are dark, and 
 therefore not beautiful enough to fight for. 
 
 490. The multitude like a timid cur. (See note lor p. 475.) 
 
 497. Ephraim is an heartless dove, etc. (See Hosea vii. 11, and 
 Genesis xlix. 14.) Rebecca would say that through oppression her 
 people have lost both strength and courage. 
 
 500. Charles XII. of Sweden after a brilliant military career 
 was killed in battle in 1718. The lines are from Johnson's "The 
 Vanity of Human Wishes." In the first Scott has substituted for- 
 eign for barren, and in the second humble for dubious. He has 
 also emphasized tale in the last line to make it refer to '' Ivanhoe." 
 
 2l 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 The definitions are mainly taken or adapted from the Century Dictionary. This 
 authority is referred to as " 0." in the brackets. 
 
 Abacus, the mystic staff carried by the Grand Master of the Tem- 
 plars, 375. 
 Abbey-stede, an estate in land belonging to an abbey, 350. 
 Agraffe, an ornamental clasp or hook, 75. 
 
 Ahithophel, a Hebrew politician, the counsellor of King David, 362. 
 A la rescousse. To the rescue! 299. 
 Alderman. In early England a title meaning simply chieftain or lorcv 
 
 26, 79, 256, etc. 
 Anathema Maranatha, a phrase taken from 1 Corinthians xvi. 22, 
 
 used as an intense form of anathema — accursed; a formal curse, 
 
 397. [C, anathema.] 
 Anchoret, anchorite, a religious recluse, differing from a hermit in 
 
 the greater severity of his privations, 17, 166, 198, etc. 
 Apollyon, a name given in Revelation ix. 2, to the angel of the bottom- 
 less pit, 245, 462. 
 Arblast. The arblast was a cross-bow, the windlace the machine used 
 
 in bending that weapoD, and the quarrell . . . was the bolt adapted 
 
 to it. — Scott, 294, 376. [C] 
 Arbor, a hunting term, signifying the heart, liver, and lungs of the 
 
 deer, 44. 
 Arrant, notorious, downright, 114. [C, arrant and errant.] 
 Arrets, decrees, edicts, 20. 
 Asper, a Turkish coin of small value, 413. 
 Assoilzie, to acquit, to forgive, 303. 
 
 Auferte malum ex vobis, remove the evil thing from you, 397. 
 Ave, a devotion or prayer, called from its opening word, " Ave 
 
 Maria," 165, 279. 
 Aymer Pr. S. M. Jorvolciensis. Aymer Prior Sancti Monasterii Jorvol- 
 
 ciensis, Prior of the Holy Monastery of Jorvaulx, 382. 
 Baldric, a belt or scarf, generally worn over the shoulders, crossing 
 
 the body diagonally, either as ornament, or as support for a sword, 
 
 dagger, or horn, 14, 72, 139, etc. 
 
 514 
 
GLOSSARY. 515 
 
 Barbed, clad in armor ; said of a war-horse, 103. 
 
 Barbican, an outwork of a castle or fortified place, 207, 213, 269, etc. 
 
 Barret-cap, a military cap or headpiece, 479. 
 
 Barrow, a burial mouud, 457. 
 
 Bartisan, a small overhanging turret, or projecting parapet, 236, 240, 
 
 296, etc. [C, bartizan.] 
 Basta ! Enough ! No matter ! 257. 
 Batoon, a club or staff ; a baton, 243. 
 
 Bauble, a sort of sceptre or staff of office carried by a jester, 258, 437. 
 Beaver. In English armor the movable protection for the lower part 
 
 of the face, 436. 
 Beccaficoes, small birds, warblers, supposed to peck figs; hence the 
 
 name, 149. 
 Becket, by the bones of, 137. (See St. TJiomas.) 
 Beech-mast, the mast or nuts of the beech tree, 7. 
 Belial, man of, one wholly evil, or inspired by the devil, 277, 414, 439. 
 Benedicite, mes fils, bless you, my sons, 16. 
 Bested, placed, situated, 131, 340. [C] 
 
 Bevis, Sir, a famous mediaeval hero of Arthurian romance, 364. 
 Bewray, betray, 366. 
 Biggin, a baby's cap, 271. 
 Bill. In earliest English use, a kind of broadsword, 45. Later, a 
 
 weapon consisting of a broad hook-shaped blade having a short 
 
 pike at the end, fixed to a long handle. The same as brown-bill, 
 
 181, 335. 
 Black-letter garlands, collections of ballads or other poems printed 
 
 in black-letter, or Gothic, type, 456. 
 Black sanctus, a profane or burlesque hymn, 198. [C, sanctus.] 
 Bolts, arrows, especially for cross-bows, 110, 278, 405. 
 Borrows. "Borghs," or "borrows," signifies pledges. Hence our 
 
 word "borrow" because we pledge ourselves to restore what is 
 
 lent. — Scott, 350. 
 Bosses, studs or knobs, 463. 
 
 Bow-hand, on the, on the wrong side ; wrongly, 36. 
 Brawn, boar's flesh pickled, 78. 
 Breviary, a book of prayers or services, 268, 474. 
 Bride of the Canticles. The beautiful woman celebrated in the Song 
 
 of Songs, 75. 
 Bull-beggar, a hobgoblin, a scarecrow, 275. 
 Bull of the Holy See, an edict issued by the Pope, 277. 
 Bulls of Bashan. Bashan was a rich district of Palestine east of the 
 
 Jordan, 110. (Psalm xxii. 12.) 
 Bundle of myrrh, a term used in praise of a beautiful woman in the 
 
 Song of Songs, i. 13. 
 
516 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Burden, an underpart or accompaniment to a song; to bear a burden, 
 to sing such a part, 267, 437. 
 
 Burrel cloth, a kind of coarse cloth, 375. 
 
 Butt of sack, a large cask of light coarse wine, 449, 498. 
 
 Byzant, a gold coin of Byzantium, worth from three to five dollars, 75, 
 270, 281, etc. 
 
 Cabal, a number of persons united for a purpose, usually an intrigue, 
 155. [C, cabal*.] 
 
 Cabalist, one versed in cabala, or mystic philosophy of the Jews, 112 ; 
 cabalistical, 282, 383, 404. 
 
 Caftaned, clad in a caftan, a kind of long loose robe, tied about the 
 waist with a girdle, 286. 
 
 Can, know, 349. " I can well of woodcraft." 
 
 Canary, a wine made in the Canary Islands, 171. 
 
 Canon, as an ecclesiastical term, an authoritative law or rule of doc- 
 trine or discipline, 33. 
 
 Cap-a-pie, from head to foot, 83, 479. 
 
 Capital, chapter, 377, 385, etc. 
 
 Capul. a horse, a work horse, 413. 
 
 Caracole, n. A semi-round or half-turn which a horseman makes, 74; 
 caracole, v. to prance, 73. 
 
 Cardecu, an old French silver coin, a quarter-crown, 346. 
 
 Cartel, a letter of defiance, a challenge, 246, 248. 
 
 Cassock, a cloak or coat, 194, 200, etc. 
 
 Cast, a specimen, a turn, a touch, 268. 
 
 Cave, adsum. Beware, I am here, 91. 
 
 Cerements, grave-clothes, 467. (" Hamlet," I. iv. 48.) 
 
 Chamfron, the armor for the front of the head of a war-horse, 14, 131. 
 
 Chapter, a council, or assembly of monks, 160, 489, etc. 
 
 Chapter-house, a room in which a Chapter meets, 208. 
 
 Chian wine, wine produced in Chios, 21. 
 
 Chief Captain of Jerusalem, 311. (See Acts xxii. 28.) 
 
 Churl, in early English, one of the lowest class of freemen ; later, a 
 rude or ill-tempered person, 20, etc. [C] 
 
 Clerk, a man in holy orders, a scholar, 169, etc. [C] 
 
 Close, a piece of land, usually enclosed by hedge or fence, 311. 
 
 Cloth-yard shaft, an arrow having the length of a yard, cloth-measure ; 
 the longest shaft ever used in European archery, 299, 308. 
 
 Clout, the mark fixed in the centre of the target at which archers 
 shoot, 142. 
 
 Cluster of camphire, a term used in praise of a beautiful woman ; in 
 the authorized version of the Song of Songs, now properly trans- 
 lated " a cluster of henna-flowers," 137. 
 
 Cnicht, an attendant or servant, a man-at-arms, 246. [C, knight.] 
 
GLOSSARY. 517 
 
 Cockle-shell, a sea-shell used as the badge of a pilgrim, 34. 
 
 Cock's-comb, coxcomb, a fool's cap, also a fop, 192, 258. 
 
 Collop, a slice of meat, 351. 
 
 Composition, a mutual settlement or agreement, 309. 
 
 Confiteor, I confess, 447. 
 
 Cope, a large mantle or cloak, generally a priest's garment, 33, 347. 
 
 Counterpoise, a weight which helps to raise the drawbridge, 320. 
 
 Cri de guerre, war-cry, 45. 
 
 Crisping-tongs, an instrument used to curl the hair, 348. 
 
 Crook, a shepherd's staff ; a symbol of the pastor's or priest's office, 251. 
 
 Crosier, a bishop's pastoral staff ; a symbol of the bishop's power as 
 
 the sceptre is of the king's, 447. 
 Cross, any coin bearing the representation of the cross, 75. 
 Cross-bow, 110, etc. (See arblast.) 
 Crowd, an ancient Welsh and Irish musical instrument of the viol 
 
 kind, 458. 
 Crowder. one who plays on the crowd, a wandering minstrel, 227, 342. 
 Crown, French, a small gold coin, 248. 
 Curee, a hunting term — the portion of the de:r given to the hounds. 
 
 44. [C, quarry 4 .] 
 Curfew, the ringing of a bell at an early hour of the evening as a sig- 
 nal for extinguishing fires and lights ; said to have been introduced 
 into England by William the Conqueror, 29. 
 Curtal, cut short. "Curtal friar" — generally explained as a friar 
 
 wearing a short gown, 333, 342, etc. 
 Cypress, a thin transparent fabric, like crape, 462. 
 Damascene carving, a method of ornamenting metal, by inlaying or 
 stamping, so as to produce a pattern like damask, 14. [C, dam- 
 askeen!] 
 Danger, power, domain ; hence, ability to injure, " stands in thy dan- 
 ger," 63. (" The Merchant of Venice," IV. i. 180.) 
 Daniel in the den of lions, 373, 414. (See Daniel vi.) 
 Death-meal and dole, funeral feast and alms, 477. 
 De Civitate Dei, " Of the City of God," 276. 
 
 De commilitonibus Templi in sancta civitate, etc., concerning the 
 knights in the holy order of the Templars who associate with 
 abandoned women, etc., 386. 
 De facto, king, the reigning king, 195. 
 
 De Lectione Literarum, concerning the reading of letters, 381. 
 Deliver, report, 372. 
 
 Demi-courbette, a half leap (of a horse), 328. 
 Demi-volte, a motion of the horse in which he makes a half turn with 
 
 the fore-legs raised, 18, 89. 
 De osculis fugiendis, concerning the avoiding of kisses, 397. 
 
518 GLOSSARY. 
 
 De profundis clamavi, out of the depths have I called, 199. (Psalm 
 cxxx. 1.) 
 
 Derring-do, desperate courage. — Scott, 303. 
 
 Derry-down, a meaningless refrain or chorus. " The chorus of c deny 
 down ' is supposed to be as ancient as . . . the times of the 
 Druids, and to have furnished the chorus to the hymns of those 
 venerable persons when they went to the wood to gather mistle- 
 toe."— Scott, 177. 
 
 Desdichado, a Spanish word meaning not "disinherited," but "un- 
 fortunate," 87, 127. 
 
 Despardieux, a stronger form of " par Dieu," by God, 238, 269. 
 
 Destrier, a war-horse, 433. [C, destrer.] 
 
 Deus faciat salvam benignitatem vestram, God save your reverence, 
 348. 
 
 Deus vobiscum, God be with you, 276 (when it means a priest), 328. 
 
 Devoir, duty, 411, 486. 
 
 Did on, put on, 200. 
 
 Dingle, a wooded hollow, 192. 
 
 Disforested, freed from the restrictions of forest laws, 36. 
 
 Dogs of Ishmael and of Edom. Isaac's contemptuous name for Chris- 
 tians. Ishmael and Edom were the hereditary foes of the Jew. 
 
 Doit, a small Dutch coin ; any trifling sum, 271. 
 
 Dortour, a dormitory. — Scott, 356. 
 
 Drinc hael, " I drink your health," 172, 461. 
 
 Emir, among Mohammedan peoples, a chief of a family or tribe, 
 377. 
 
 En avant, forward ! 299. 
 
 En croupe, behind the saddle, 60. 
 
 Enlargement, a setting at large or at liberty, 222. 
 
 Equerry, an officer in the household of a prince or noble, who has the 
 superintendence of the horses, 444. 
 
 Escutcheon, the surface, usually shield-shaped, upon which armorial 
 bearings are inscribed ; used as a symbol of honor, 83. 
 
 Essoine, Essoine signifies excuse, and here relates to the appellant's 
 privilege of appearing by her champion in excuse of her own per- 
 son, on account of her sex. — Scott, 411, 482. 
 
 Estrada, an elevated part of the floor ; a raised platform, 107. 
 
 Et vobis; quseso, domine reverendissime, etc., "And with you; I 
 beg, most reverend father, for your pity," 259. 
 
 Eumseus, a swineherd in the Odyssey, 10, 58. 
 
 Exceptis excipiendis, " exceptions being excepted," 178. 
 
 Excommunicabo vos, I will excommunicate you (exclude you from 
 the church) , 347. 
 
 Faire le moulinet, to play the windmill, 119 
 
GLOSSARY. 519 
 
 Faites vos devoirs, preux chevaliers, " Do your duty, brave knights,' 
 486. 
 
 Falchion, a short, broad sword, 436. 
 
 Fanners, implements for separating, by fanning, the chaff from the 
 wheat in the threshing, 381. (Matt. iii. 12.) 
 
 Farrier, a smith who combines the art of shoeing horses with the pro- 
 fession of veterinary surgeon, 69. 
 
 Fetterlock, in heraldry, a shackle or bolt, 299, etc. 
 
 Fiat voluntas tua, thy will be done, 487. 
 
 Fief, an estate held by grace of a superior on condition of military or 
 other service, 135. 
 
 Field sable, said of a heraldic device in which the field or main sur- 
 face of the escutcheon is black, 303. 
 
 File your tongue, speak more gently or smoothly, 21. 
 
 First strike, full measure ; ale of the first strike is that which has had 
 its full allowance of malt, and is strong, 449. 
 
 Folk-free and sacless, a lawful freeman. — Scott, 335. 
 
 Foot-cloth, a large housing or covering of a horse, indicating dignity 
 or state, 12. 
 
 Fork-headed shafts, arrows whose heads have two points directed 
 forward, 248. 
 
 Franklin, a landowner of some wealth and dignity, 2, 17. 
 
 Fructus Temporum (fruit of the Times), a book of chronicles, 434. 
 
 Gaberdine, a long, loose cloak, generally coarse, distinctively worn by 
 the Jews, 50, 60, 65. 
 
 Gammon of bacon, the cured thigh of a hog ; a ham, 42, 58, 318. 
 
 Gare le Corbeau, Beware the raven. 
 
 Gear, matters, affairs ; holy gear, religious ceremonies, 256. 
 
 Ghostly, spiritual, 252, 254, 258, etc. 
 
 Gideon, a great Jewish warrior and deliverer, 305. 
 
 Glaive, a lance or spear ; later, a broadsword, 181. 
 
 Gleeman, a strolling minstrel, 175. 
 
 Gorget, a piece of armor protecting the throat and upper part of the 
 breast, 21 ; a necklace, 6. 
 
 Gospel of St. Nicodemus, a spurious writing reputed to have been 
 written by Nicodemus, 348. 
 
 Grace-cup, a cup from which the last draught was drunk at table, 
 being passed from guest to guest, 49. 
 
 Gramercy, many thanks, 65, 88, etc. (grand merci). 
 
 Grange, a farming establishment, a farm-house, 227, 434. [C] 
 
 Gray-goose shaft, an arrow, 254, 444, etc. 
 
 Guild-brother, free, a freeman, who belonged to a guild, 113, 416. 
 
 Guilder, a piece of money of value less than fifty cents, 110. 
 
 Gust, enjoyment, relish, 458. 
 
520 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Guy, Sir, of Warwick, a legendary hero of English romance, 364. 
 Gymmal ring, a ring made up of two or more circlets so put together 
 
 that they can be separated into as many rings, 347. 
 Hacqueton, a quilted vest of leather or thick cloth worn under the 
 
 coat of mail to save the body from chafing and bruises, 280. 
 Halberd, a broad blade with sharp edges and point, mounted on a long 
 
 handle, 317, 344. (See plate facing 406/ 
 Half ling, a half penny, 50. 
 
 Halidom, holiness, sanctity, sacred honor, 80, 160. 
 Harrying, despoiling, robbing, 267. [C] 
 Hatchment, a tablet bearing the arms of a deceased person, placed 
 
 over his tomb; funeral honors, 304. 
 Hauberk, a long coat of mail, coming below the knees, 5. 
 Hedge-priest, a mean or illiterate priest, 359, 458, etc. (See Notes.) 
 Hengist and Horsa, joint founders of the kingdom of Kent. They 
 
 were Jute chieftains and landed in England about 211 — 331, 449, 
 Heptarchy, a name loosely given to the early English kingdoms, before 
 
 they were consolidated, 20. 
 Hereward, an English outlaw and patriot, who defended Ely against 
 
 the Conqueror, 20. 
 Hership, pillage. — Scott, 30. 
 Hide of land, a tract of fifty or sixty acres, 335. 
 Hilding, a mean, worthless person, 279, 346. 
 Hind, a laborer, a peasant, 3, 226. 
 
 Horn, exalted, an Old Testament symbol of honor or power, 291. 
 Hotspur, Henry Percy, called Hotspur, killed in battle in 1403. He 
 
 appears in Shakespeare's " Henry IV.," Part I., 187. 
 Houghed, hamstrung, having the sinew of the hock cut (of a horse) , 447. 
 Houri, a nymph of the Mohammedan Paradise, 21, 75. 
 Hur*s, a comic representation of a Welshman's " he was," 438. 
 Hutch, a kind of trough, 55 ; a chest or bin, 170. 
 Ichabod, a Hebrew word meaning no glory, or the glory has departed, 
 
 353. (1 Samuel iv. 21.) ' 
 Ifrin, a word for hell, perhaps from Ifurin, the hell of the ancient 
 
 Gauls, 259. 
 In flagrant delict, in the actual commission of the deed, 390 
 Inter res sacras, among consecrated things, 358. 
 Invenientur vigilantes, let them be found watching, 382. 
 Issachar, one of the twelve tribes of Israel, 497. (Genesis xlix. 14.' 
 Jerkin, a short, close-fitting coat or jacket. 
 Jonah, gourd of, the plant miraculously given to shelter the prophet, 
 
 414. (Jonah iv. 5-11.) 
 Kirtle, a garment whose form and purpose varied much ; a long, close- 
 fitting gown for women, 28. 
 
GLOSSARY. 521 
 
 Lac acidum, sour milk, 39. 
 
 Lac dulce, sweet milk, 39. 
 
 Lai, lay, a song; a short tale in verse, 174, 175. 
 
 Laissez aller, let go ! off! 127,486. 
 
 Lancelot de Lac, one of the knights of the Round Table; much con- 
 cerning him will be found in Tennyson's " Idyls of the King," 3(37. 
 
 Landes of Bordeaux, a stretch of sandy plain in Bordeaux covered 
 with heather and pine, 242. 
 
 Languedoc, an ancient province of southern France, named from the 
 langue cl'oc, or speech used there, 238. 
 
 La Keyne de la Beaulte' et des Amours, the queen of beauty and of 
 love, 70. 
 
 Largesse, a free distribution of money; a gift, 16, 82, etc. 
 
 Latro famosus, a notorious robber, 352. 
 
 Lawless resolutes, desperate adventurers, 66. [" Hamlet," I. i. 98.] 
 
 Lay lance in rest, to fight in the lists. The "rest" was a contriv- 
 ance for holding the lance steady when it was in position for 
 charging, 80, 407. 
 
 Leaguer, to besiege, 293. 
 
 Le don d'amoureux merci, "the highest favor of love." — Perry, 
 388. 
 
 Leech, a physician, 209, 402 ; to treat as a physician, 180. 
 
 Lee-gage, the safe or sheltered side, 431. 
 
 Leman, a sweetheart, 346. 
 
 Levin-fire, lightning, 343. 
 
 Liard, a small French coin (not current till the fifteenth century), 334. 
 
 Lily of the vale of Baca, 237. (Psalm lxxxiv. 6.) 
 
 Lincoln green, a cloth dyed with peculiar excellence at Lincoln ; the 
 favorite wear of woodsmen, huntsmen, and outlaws, 72, 140, etc. 
 
 Lion of Idumea. Idumea was another name for Edom, the hereditary 
 foe of Israel, 284. 
 
 Long-bow, the bow drawn by hand, discharging a feathered arrow, 
 as distinguished from the cross-bow, 139, etc. 
 
 Lurcher, a sort of hunting dog, 8. 
 
 Maccabeus, one of a family of heroes, deliverers of Judah, 175-164 B.C., 
 305. 
 
 Mace, a weapon for striking; a battle club, 125. [C] (See plate 
 facing 329.) 
 
 Mahound, an old form of the name of Mohammed, 21, 42. 
 
 Mails, travelling bags, 269, etc. 
 
 Malison, a curse, 335. 
 
 Malvoisie, a sweet strong wine (same as malmsey), 278, 449. 
 
 Mammocks, fragments, small bits, 252. 
 
 Manciple, a steward ; a caterer or purveyor, 434. 
 
522 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Mancus, Anglo-Saxon money of account, about sixty cents m value, 
 
 416, 462. 
 Mangonel, a military machine for throwing stones, 267, 405. 
 Man-sworn, perjured, 466. [C, manswear.] 
 Mantelets, temporary and movable defences formed of planks, under 
 
 cover of which the assailants advanced to the attack of fortified 
 
 places of old. — Scott, 278. 
 Manus imponere in servos Domini, to lay hands upon the servants 
 
 of the Lord, 317. 
 Maravedi, a Spanish coin of considerable value in the eleventh and 
 
 twelfth centuries; later the smallest denomination of Spanish 
 
 money, worth about a quarter of a cent, 356. 
 Mark, Anglo-Saxon and English money of account, three and a quarter 
 
 dollars in value, 75, 275 ; merk, 114. • 
 Maroquin, morocco, goat's leather, 74. 
 Marry, a mild oath ; a corruption of Mary, 19, etc. 
 Matins, Matin-song, morning worship, 55, 432. 
 Matin chime, morning bell, 49. 
 Maugre, in spite of, 344, 492. 
 
 Mead, a liquor made of honey and water with a ferment, 32. 
 Melee, a hand-to-hand fight among a number of persons, 86. 
 Mell, to interfere, to meddle, 344. 
 Merry-men, followers, retainers, 149, etc. 
 
 Minion, a favorite, 135, 227, etc. ; also a term of contempt, 260. 
 Minster, a monastery, a church, 275. 
 Missal, a mass-book, 167, 463. 
 Moat, a trench often filled with water, around a castle or fortified 
 
 place, 298, etc. 
 Moiety, strictly a half ; any portion or share of the whole, 104. 
 Moloch, a form of the god Baal worshipped by the Canaanitish tribes 
 
 with cruel rites, 304. 
 Mopping and mowing, making faces, 436. 
 Morat, a drink made of honey flavored with the juice of mulberries. 
 
 — Scott, 32. 
 Morrion, a form of helmet (not used in England before the sixteenth 
 
 century) , 442. 
 Morris-dancer, one who takes part in a dance of persons in comic cos- 
 tume ; a mummer, 348. 
 Mort, a flourish sounded at the death of the game in hunting, 44. 
 Mort de ma vie. Death of my life ! 467. 
 Mot. 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. — Scott, 340. 
 Mould, man of, man of character, of courage, 273. 
 
GLOSSARY. 523 
 
 " Mount joye St. Denis," a French war-cry, 321. 
 
 Mulled heated and spiced for drinking, as wine or ale, 343. 
 
 Mummery, a pantomime by maskers ; hence an idle show or perform- 
 ance, 138, 157, 471. 
 
 Murrain, a plague, a cattle disease, 10. 
 
 Muscadine, a sweet wine, 97. 
 
 Natheless, nevertheless, 284. 
 
 Nebulo quidam, this good-for-nothing, 347. 
 
 Necromancer, a conjurer, a wizard, 112. 
 
 Neophyte, a beginner; one newly admitted to an order, 479. 
 
 Nidering, a Saxon term of contempt; a nobody, 151, 466. 
 
 Noble, an old English gold coin worth six shillings, eight pence, 140, 144. 
 
 Nombles, a hunting term — the entrails of the deer, 44. [C, numbles.] 
 
 Nonce, always used in the phrase " for the nonce," which means " for 
 the one time," 252. 
 
 Nook of pasty, a portion of meat pie, 174, 469. 
 
 Noons, the midday religious service, 178. 
 
 Noviciate, the time of an apprentice, or neophyte, 379. 
 
 Odin. In the Norse mythology the chief of the gods ; the all-father, 
 20, 260 ; the Anglo-Saxon form of his name is Woden. 
 
 Og, King of Bashan, the giant king of Bashan, a district of Canaan, 
 98. (Deuteronomy iii. 11.) 
 
 Oubliette, a secret dungeon, 468. 
 
 Out-heroding. In the old mystery plays Herod was a violent, blus- 
 tering person. To out-herod Herod was to be more noisy and 
 blustering — hence to be excessive in any particular, 72. 
 
 Outlandish, foreign, 14, 233. 
 
 Outrecuidance, presumption, insolence. — Scott, 101, 271. 
 
 Over God's forbode, God forbid! 97. 
 
 Oyez, an old French word meaning Hear ! used to call attention to a 
 proclamation, 481. 
 
 Palfrey, a saddle horse, as distinguished from a war-horse, 12, 73, 74, etc. 
 
 Palmer, a pilgrim to the Holy Land who brought back a palm branch 
 to lay upon his home altar, 23, etc. 
 
 Pannier, a basket, 216. 
 
 Par amours, illicitly, 238, 383. 
 
 Parish-butt, a target for public archery trials, 308. 
 
 Parted in time, dead by a natural death, 313. (" 2 Henry VI.," III. ii. 
 161, " timely parted.") 
 
 Partisan, a long-handled cutting weapon, 203, 317, etc. [G.,partizan.] 
 
 Passover, a Jewish annual religious festival, 221. 
 
 Pasty, a meat pie, 170, etc. 
 
 Pater, a prayer, called from its opening word, " Pater noster," Our 
 Father, 165, 179. 
 
524 GLOSS A BY. 
 
 Paternoster, 48. (See pater.) 
 
 Patter, to repeat the Lord's prayer. See Pater. Hence, to repeat any 
 
 prayer. Pattered, 171, 278. 
 Pavisse, a species of large shield covering the whole person of the 
 
 soldier when advancing to an attack, 278. 
 Pax vobiscum, " Peace be with you," a priestly salutation, 253, etc. 
 Paynim, a pagan, a heathen, 176, etc. 
 Penny histories, copies of ballads, sold for a penny, 447. 
 Pent-house, a shed or sloping roof projecting from a wall; used of 
 
 overhanging eyebrows or eyelids, 11. [C, pent-house and ap- 
 
 p entice ; also "Macbeth," I. iii. 20.] 
 Periapt, a charm, an amulet, 383. 
 Peril of thy beard, at your own personal risk, 112. 
 Phineas, the brand of, the sword of Phineas, 378. (Numbers xxv.) 
 Pigment, a sweet and rich liquor composed of wine highly spiced, and 
 
 sweetened also with honey. — Scott, 32. 
 Pinfold, parish, a public pound, in which stray animals are confined, 
 
 168. 
 Points, laces used in the place of buttons to hold the clothes together ; 
 
 " Truss my points " = " Tie my laces," 201. 
 Pouch up, to pocket, to submit quietly to, 359. 
 Pouncet-box, a small box with a perforated lid, used for sprinkling 
 
 powder on written paper to prevent blotting ; also a perfume box, 
 
 348. 
 Preceptory, the establishment or religious house of the Knights Tem- 
 plars, 238, etc. 
 Pricks forth, rides out, 338. 
 Primes, the devotions belonging to the early part of the day, 170, 209, 
 
 435. 
 Promise, the, the assurance given to Abraham that his descendants 
 
 should be the chosen people, 344. 
 Propined, offered, guaranteed, 338. 
 Propter necessitatum et ad frigus depellendum, in case of necessity 
 
 and for warding off cold, 350. 
 Pursuivant, a messenger, 68. 
 Pyet, a magpie, 346. 
 
 Pyx, the box or vase in which the consecrated bread left after com- 
 munion is kept, 350. 
 Quare fremuerunt gentes? Why do the heathen rage? 489. (Psalm ii. 
 
 1.) 
 Quarrells, 294. (See arblast.) 
 
 Quarter-staff, an old English weapon formed of a stout pole about 
 
 six feet long, 10, 115, etc. 
 Quean, a worthless woman, 386. 
 
GLOSSARY. 525 
 
 Queen of Sheba, the famous queen who came to test the wisdom of 
 
 Solomon, 238. (1 Kings x.) 
 Quod nullus juxta propriam voluntatem incedat, that no one shall 
 
 walk by his own will, 397. 
 Kabbah, men of, men of a town of the Ammonites, Rabbah, conquered 
 
 by the Jews, 57. 
 Rascaille, the vulgar herd, 279. 
 
 Reason, to do, to give satisfaction, to return a courtesy, 39, etc. 
 Recheat, a hunting term ; the notes of the horn that recall the hounds, 
 
 44, 349. 
 Reliquary, a receptacle for a sacred relic ; often small enough to be 
 
 carried on the person, 38, 47, 485. 
 Rere-supper, a night-meal, and sometimes signified a collation which 
 
 was given at a late hour, after the regular supper had made its 
 
 appearance. — Scott, 182. 
 Rex delectabitur pulchritudine tua, the king shall delight in thy 
 
 beauty, 382. 
 Rheum, cold, a catarrhal affection, 435. 
 Riding, West, North, East, the three districts into which Yorkshire is 
 
 divided ; originally West-thriding, etc., " thriding " being " a third 
 
 part," 5, 162, etc. 
 Rod of Moses, the miraculous staff of Exodus iv. and vii. 65. 
 Rood, the cross, 49, etc. 
 Rose of Sharon, a lily of the valley, terms used of the beautiful 
 
 woman of the Song of Songs ii. 1, 75, 238. 
 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, 458. — Scott. Both Scott's description of the instrument 
 
 and his etymology of its name must be questioned. (Skeat's " Ety- 
 mological Dictionary," Rote' 2 .) 
 Runagate, a corrupt form of renegide, 142, 190, 268. 
 Runlet, a small barrel, of about eighteen gallons s capacity, 171, 449. 
 Russet, coarse, homespun cloth, the distinctive dress of a friar, 252, etc 
 Sacring-bell, a bell rung at certain places during religious services, 
 
 especially during the celebration of the mass, 477. 
 Sadducees, a school of Jewish thinkers who denied the immortality 
 
 of the soul, 483. 
 Saint Andrew's day, November 30, one of the regular days for collect 
 
 ing tithes, 349. 
 St. Anthony, an Egyptian abbot (d. about 251), called the foundei 
 
 of asceticism, 184. 
 St. Augustine, the celebrated Latin Father (d. 430), 276. 
 St. Bennet (Benedict), an Italian monk, founder of the Order of the 
 
 Benedictines (d. 543). 275. 
 
52() GLOSSARY. 
 
 St. Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux (d. 1153) , a great French ecclesiastic, 
 who made a code of rules for the government of the Brethren of 
 the Temple, 375, etc. 
 
 St. Botolph, an English monk who built a monastery in 654 in Lincoln- 
 shire, at a place now called " Boston," from his name, 430. 
 
 St. Christopher, a martyr of the third century, 276, 279. 
 
 St. Denis (Dennis), the patron saint of France (d. 272), 279. 
 
 St. Dubric, a Welsh saint of the sixth century, 179. (Perry.) 
 
 St. Dunstan, an archbishop of Canterbury (d. 988), 9, 58, 165, etc. 
 
 St. Edmund, a king of East Anglia, killed by the Danes about 870, 
 184. 
 
 St. Edward, King Edward the Confessor (d. 1066), 184. 
 
 St. Francis, of Assisi, founder of the Order of Franciscans (d. 1226) 
 
 St. Genevieve, the patron saint of the city of Paris (d. 512), 271. 
 
 St. George, a Christian martyr put to death in 303. Said to have ap- 
 peared miraculously in aid of the Crusaders at Antioch, 1089. The 
 patron of England, 192. 
 
 St. Grizzle, Patient Griselda, a favorite heroine of mediaeval romauce, 
 submissive to the most cruel ordeals at her husband's hands ; never 
 canonized by the church, 78. 
 
 St. Hermangild (Hermenegild) , a West Gothic prince, put to death. 
 585 ; a defender of the true faith, 342. 
 
 St. Hilda, Abbess of Whitby in Yorkshire (d. 680), 35. 
 
 St. Hubert, a bishop of Liege (d. 727), the patron saint of hunters, 139. 
 
 St. Jeremy (Jerome), a father of the Latin church (d. 420), 469. 
 
 St. Julian, the legendary saint of travellers and of hospitality, 164. 
 
 St. Magdalen, the woman out of whom Jesus cast seven devils, identi- 
 fied wrongly with the woman who bathed and anointed the feet 
 of Jesus (Luke vii. 37-50) ; never canonized by the church, 386. 
 
 St. Michael, an archangel mentioned in the Bible ; the fighting angel, 
 225, 248. 
 
 St. Nicholas, a bishop of Myra (d. about 300) ; the patron of sea- 
 farers, thieves, and children (Santa Claus), 197. 
 
 St. Nicholas' clerks, robbers, 114, 442. 
 
 St. Robert, Abbot of Molesme (d. 1110), founder of the Order of 
 Cistercian Friars, 354. 
 
 St. Thomas, Thomas of Becket or a Becket. Thomas of Canterbury, 
 St. Thomas of Kent, an archbishop of Canterbury, murdered in 
 his cathedral, in 1170, 154, 179, 251, etc. "By the bones of Becket," 
 137. 
 
 St. Winibald, an English saint (d. about 786), one of the missiona- 
 ries to the Germans, 179. 
 
 St. Winifred, Boniface the Great, apostle to tbe Germans ; he was mur- 
 dered in 755, 179. 
 
GLOSSARY. 527 
 
 St. Withold, an imaginary saint, probably borrowed by Scott from 
 " King Lear," III. iv. 7, 125, 159, etc. 
 
 Saladin, a famous sultan of Egypt and Syria, who attempted to drive 
 the Christians out of Palestine and who captured Jerusalem. In 
 1192 Richard Coeur-de-Lion forced him to accept a truce for three 
 years, 40. 
 
 Sally-port, a name applied to the postern leading from under the ram- 
 part into the ditch, 269, 298. 
 
 Salvage or silvan man, a man of the woods. Salvage is an old form 
 of savage, 68. 
 
 Sanctus, black. (See black sanctus.) 
 
 Saracen, a name given by the later Romans and Greeks to the nomadic 
 tribes on the Syrian border ; in the Middle Ages applied to all non- 
 Christian peoples against whom a crusade was preached, 19, etc. 
 
 Saracen head, an ugly, forbidding countenance, 18. 
 
 Sathanas, Satan, 342. 
 
 Scald, an ancient Scandinavian poet, answering to the bard of the 
 Britons and Celts, and the scop of the Aqglo-Saxons, 330. 
 
 Scallop-shell of Compostella, the badge of a pilgrim, from the shrine 
 of St. James at Compostella in Spain, 267. 
 
 Scathe, to harm ; unscathed, unharmed ; scatheless, 119, 178. 
 
 Scout-master, an officer who has charge of scouts and army messen- 
 gers, 368. 
 
 Scutcheon, 483. (See escutcheon.) 
 
 Sendal, a tbin silken material, 321. 
 
 Seneschal, an officer of the household who has charge of ceremonies 
 and feasts, 17, 142. 
 
 Sewer, a person charged with the service of the table, a sort of head 
 waiter, 212, 276. 
 
 Shackle-bolt. In heraldry a bearing representing a fetlock for hob- 
 bling a horse, 299. -** 
 
 Shadrach, Meshech, and Abednegd, the names of three Hebrew youths 
 who refused to defile themselves by eating the food provided for 
 them at the court of Nebuchadnezzar, 169. (Daniel L) 
 
 Shaveling, a contemptuous name for a priest, 203, 255. 
 
 Shekel, the chief silver coin of the Jews; money in general, 50, 
 112. 
 
 Shot at rovers, a shot at a mark with some elevation, not point-blank, 
 141. [C, rover.] 
 
 Sigil, an occult mark or sign, as in magic or astrology, 383. 
 
 Sihon, king of the Amorites, a king with whose army the Israelites 
 fought and whom they defeated, 98. [Numbers xxi.] 
 
 Simarre, a loose light robe worn by women, 74 c 
 
 Simnel bread, a cake made of fine flour, 148 Q 
 
528 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Si quis, suadente Diabolo, If any one led by the devil, 277. 
 
 Sirach, daughter of, Sirach was the reputed author of the Ecclesiasti- 
 
 cus, one of the wisdom books of the Apocrypha, 238. 
 Sirvente. (See Notes for p. 175.) 
 Sith, since, 141. [C, sith, especially the etymology.] 
 Slot, the track of a deer, as followed by the scent or mark of the foot, 
 
 370. 
 Slot-hound (Slow-hound), a bloodhound, 27, 291. 
 Solere chamber, an upper room, 51. [C, sollar.'] 
 Something in hand the whilst, a small sum, as a sort of earnest of the 
 
 larger reward, 110, 270. 
 Sortilege, divination, or decision by lot ; hence sorcery, 396. 
 Soul-scat, a funeral payment, usually to the priest in whose church 
 
 prayer for the departed has been said, 338, 461. 
 Spoiling of the Egyptians, when the Israelites came out of Egypt they 
 
 carried off whatever valuables of their masters they could lay 
 
 hands on, 359. (Exodus xii. 36.) 
 Springal, an active young person, 130. 
 Stag-royal, a stag that has antlers terminating in twelve or more 
 
 points, 353. 
 Steads, estates, 335. 
 
 Stock-fish, fish cured by splitting and drying, 435. 
 Stole, a vestment worn by certain ecclesiastics, 449, 471. 
 Stool-ball, an outdoor game generally played by women alone, 257. 
 Stoup, a drinking vessel, a flagon, 171, 260, etc. 
 Sultana, mother, wife, or daughter of a sultan, 39. 
 Sumpter mule, a pack or baggage mule, 12, 188. 
 Surquedy and outrecuidance, insolence and presumption. — Scott, 
 
 271. 
 Take sanctuary, according to an old custom offenders who took refuge 
 
 in certain churches were safe from arrest, 365. 
 Tale, number, list, 112. 
 Talmud, the book which embodies the civil and canonical law of the 
 
 Jewish people, 221. 
 Targe, target, a small shield, 319, 436. 
 Te igitur, a Latin service-book upon which oaths were made ; called 
 
 from the first two words of the first paragraph, 481. 
 Temple church, the church belonging to an establishment of Knights 
 
 Templars in London, 376. 
 Termagaunt, an imaginary deity, supposed to have been worshipped 
 
 by the Mohammedans, 42. 
 Thane, in early England a member of a rank above that of the ordinary 
 
 freeman, 26, etc. 
 Theow and Esne, Thrall and bondsman. — Scott, 335. 
 
GLOSSARY. 529 
 
 Thor, in the Scandinavian mythology, the second principal god ; next 
 
 to Odin, 260. 
 Thrall, a slave, a serf, 6. 
 Thunder-dint, a thunder-clap, 343. 
 
 Tippet, a scarf or short cape, generally made of fur, 74. 
 Toll-dish, a dish used for measuring the toll in mills (humorously for 
 
 the miller's head), 119. 
 Totty, unsteady, tipsy, 346, 470. 
 Train (of the fox), the trail or scent, 233. 
 Tregetour, a juggler, 471. 
 Trencher, a wooden plate or platter, 27. 
 Tristram, Sir, one of the knights of Arthur's Round Table, 44, 367. 
 
 (See Notes for p. 51.) 
 Trivet, a three-footed stool or stand, 167. 
 Troubadour, 44, 225. (See Notes for p. 175.) 
 Trowl [troll), to circulate, to pass around, 198. 
 Truncheon, a short staff, a club, 27, 30. 
 Truss my points. (See Points.) 
 Twelfth Night, the eve of Twelfth Day (the feast of the Epiphany), 
 
 January 6, 469. 
 Two-handed sword, a heavy sword to be wielded with both hands, 14. 
 Unhouseled, not having received the sacrament, 311. 
 Unshriven, not having received priestly absolution, 311, 487. 
 Ut fratres non conversentur cum extraneis mulieribus, That the 
 
 brethren should not associate with worldly women, 397. 
 Ut fratres non participent cum excommunicatis, That the brethren 
 
 shall have nothing to do with the excommunicated, 397. 
 Ut fugiantur oscula, That they should avoid kisses, 397. 
 Ut leo semper feriatur, That the lion may be always struck down, 
 
 376. (See Notes.) 
 Ut omnium mulierum fugiantur oscula, That all women's kisses are 
 
 to be avoided, 397. 
 Vailing his bonnet, lowering or removing the head covering, 48. 
 Vair, a kind of fur, believed to have been that of the gray squirrel, 
 
 375. 
 Valhalla, in Scandinavian mythology the Hall of the Slain, or Palace 
 
 of the Immortal Dead; the dwelling of those who died bravely in 
 
 battle; maidens of Valhalla, the Valkyrs or choosers of the slain, 
 
 who conduct to Valhalla the souls of the heroes, 330. 
 Venerie, the exercise of hunting, the sport of the chase, 349. 
 Venite, exultemus Domino, Come, let us rejoice in the Lord, 395. 
 
 (Psalm xcv.) 
 Vert and venison, the freedom of the forest, and the right of hunting 
 
 449. 
 
 2m 
 
530 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Vespers, a late religious service, the next to the last for the day, 49, 
 178, 399. 
 
 Vigils, a church service, a watch kept on the eve of a festival, 59, 269 
 
 Vinum lsetificat cor hominis, wine gladdens the heart of man, 382. 
 
 Virelai, an old French poem of a peculiar verse-form. Scott does not 
 try to imitate it, 437. [C, virelay.] 
 
 Vis inertia, force of inertia, 78. 
 
 Waes hael, may you be well ! to your health ! 172, 461. 
 
 Warden of the walk, a keeper or watchman of a walk, or district of 
 forest marked out for hunting purpose, 36 ; walk, 198. 
 
 Warder, (1) a staff, 130 ; (2) a gatekeeper or guard, 29, 30, etc. 
 
 Wardour MSS., the invented authority for the facts of " Ivanhoe." 
 
 War-song of Rollo (Rollo, Holf, or Ron) , a Norwegian hero who became 
 the first Duke of Normandy. The war-cry of the Normans, Har- 
 row ! {Ha Rou) is said to be a calling upon his name. 
 
 Wassail (waes hael), the toast or health offered in drinking, 39; a 
 carouse, a drinking-bout, 264. 
 
 Wastel cake, a cake made of fine flour, 48. 
 
 Watch and ward, a continuous guarding, watch signifying the night- 
 guard, and ward the day -guard, 258, 462. 
 
 Weather-gage, the advantage of the wind, any advantage of posi- 
 tion, 8. 
 
 Wet mass, to he at a, to be drinking, 342. 
 
 White, hit the, to hit the white spot in the very centre of the target, 77. 
 
 Whittle, a knife, 5, 144. 
 
 Wicket, a small gate or doorway, 60. 
 
 Wild-goose chase, a foolish or idle endeavor, 381. 
 
 Wimple, a covering laid in folds over the head and the sides of the 
 face, and under the chin, 462. [C] 
 
 Windlaces, 294. (See arblast.) 
 
 Witch of Endor, a female soothsayer consulted by Samuel in Endor, 
 238. (1 Samuel xxviii. 7.) 
 
 Witenagemote, the Anglo-Saxon national council or parliament, 275. 
 
 Woden, 265, 461. (See Odin.) 
 
 Yeoman, (1) a guard, 70; (2) in early England a man having free land 
 of a certain value, 71 ; (3) an archer, an outlaw, 72, etc. 
 
 Zecchin, a gold coin of Venice, worth about two and a quarter dollars, 
 97, 107, etc. 
 
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