Ivanhoe by Walter Scott (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📕

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 noway 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 Rowena, 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, it seems,

at a distance, but is not to be approached with other thoughts

than such as we bring to the shrine of the Blessed Virgin.”

“Well, you have said enough,” answered the Templar; “I will for a

night put on the needful restraint, and deport me as meekly as a

maiden; but as for the fear of his expelling us by violence,

myself and squires, with 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 remembrance.”

“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, as is

usual in all such cases; the attendants were appealed to, but

they had not been near enough to hear Wamba’s directions. At

length Brian remarked, what had 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, exclaiming in good

French, “Whosoever thou art, it is discourteous in you to disturb

my thoughts.”

“We did but wish to ask you,” said the Prior, “the road to

Rotherwood, the abode of Cedric the Saxon.”

“I myself am bound thither,” replied the stranger; “and if I had

a horse, I would be your guide, for the way is somewhat

intricate, though perfectly well known to me.”

“Thou shalt have both thanks and reward, my friend,” said the

Prior, “if thou wilt bring us to Cedric’s in safety.”

And he caused one of his attendants to mount his own led horse,

and give that upon which he had hitherto ridden to the stranger,

who was to serve for a guide.

Their conductor pursued an opposite road from that which Wamba

had recommended, for the purpose of misleading them. The path

soon led deeper into the woodland, and crossed more than one

brook, the approach to which was rendered perilous by the 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 wilder avenue than any they had yet seen; and,

pointing to a large low irregular building at the upper

extremity, he said to the Prior, “Yonder is Rotherwood, the

dwelling of Cedric the Saxon.”

This was a joyful intimation to Aymer, whose nerves were none of

the strongest, and who had suffered such agitation and alarm in

the course of passing through the dangerous bogs, that he had not

yet had the curiosity to ask his guide a single question.

Finding himself now at his ease and near shelter, his curiosity

began to awake, and he demanded of the guide who and what he was.

“A Palmer, just returned from the Holy Land,” was the answer.

“You had better have tarried there to fight for the recovery of

the Holy Sepulchre,” said the Templar.

“True, Reverend Sir Knight,” answered the Palmer, to whom the

appearance of the Templar seemed perfectly familiar; “but when

those who are under oath to recover the holy city, are found

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 mansion of Cedric;---a

low irregular building, containing several court-yards or

enclosures, extending over a considerable space of ground, and

which, though its size argued the inhabitant to be a person of

wealth, differed entirely from the tall, turretted, and

castellated buildings in which the Norman nobility resided, and

which had become the universal style of architecture throughout

England.

Rotherwood was not, however, without 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 the whole building, and filled with

water from a neighbouring 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 opening 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-blooming, strong,

And yellow hair’d, the blue-eyed Saxon came.

Thomson’s Liberty

In a hall, the height of which was greatly disproportioned to its

extreme length and width, a long oaken table, formed of planks

rough-hewn from the forest, and which had scarcely received any

polish, stood ready prepared for the evening meal of Cedric the

Saxon. The roof, composed of beams and rafters, had nothing to

divide the apartment from the sky excepting the planking and

thatch; there was a huge fireplace at either end of the hall, but

as the chimneys were constructed in a very clumsy manner, at

least as much of the smoke found its way into the apartment as

escaped by the proper vent. The constant vapour which this

occasioned, had polished the rafters and beams of the low-browed

hall, by encrusting them with a black varnish of soot. On the

sides of the apartment hung implements of war and of the chase,

and there were at each corner folding doors, which gave access to

other parts of the extensive building.

The other appointments of the mansion partook of the rude

simplicity of the Saxon period, which Cedric piqued himself upon

maintaining. The floor was composed of earth mixed with lime,

trodden into a hard substance, such as is often employed in

flooring our modern barns. For about one quarter of the length

of the apartment, the floor was raised by a step, and this space,

which was called the dais, was occupied only by the principal

members of the family, and visitors of distinction. For this

purpose, a table richly covered with scarlet cloth was placed

transversely across the platform, from the middle of which ran

the longer and lower board, at which the domestics and inferior

persons fed, down towards the bottom of the hall. The whole

resembled the form of the letter T, or some of those ancient

dinner-tables, which, arranged on the same principles, may be

still seen in the antique Colleges of Oxford or Cambridge.

Massive chairs and settles of carved oak were placed upon the

dais, and over these seats and the more elevated table was

fastened a canopy of cloth, which served in some degree to

protect the dignitaries who occupied that distinguished station

from the weather, and especially from the rain, which in some

places found its way through the ill-constructed roof.

The walls of this upper end of the hall, as far as the dais

extended, were covered with hangings or curtains, and upon the

floor there was a carpet, both of which were adorned with some

attempts at tapestry, or embroidery, executed with brilliant or

rather gaudy colouring. Over the lower range of table, the roof,

as we have noticed, had no covering; the rough plastered walls

were left bare, and the rude earthen floor was uncarpeted; the

board was uncovered by a cloth, and rude massive benches supplied

the place of chairs.

In the centre of the upper table, were placed two chairs more

elevated than the rest, for the master and mistress of the

family, who presided over the scene of hospitality, and from

doing so derived their Saxon title of honour, which signifies

“the Dividers of Bread.”

To each of these chairs was added a footstool, curiously carved

and inlaid with ivory, which mark of distinction was peculiar to

them. One of these seats was at present occupied by Cedric the

Saxon, who, though but in rank a thane, or, as the Normans called

him, a Franklin, felt, at the delay of his evening meal, an

irritable impatience, which might have become an alderman,

whether of ancient or of modern times.

It appeared, indeed, from the countenance of this proprietor,

that he was of a frank, but hasty and choleric temper. He was

not above the middle stature, but broad-shouldered, long-armed,

and powerfully made, like one accustomed to endure the fatigue of

war or of the chase; his face was broad, with large blue eyes,

open and frank features, fine teeth, and a well formed head,

altogether expressive of that sort of good-humour which often

lodges with a sudden and hasty temper. Pride and jealousy there

was in his eye, for his life had been spent in asserting rights

which were constantly liable to invasion; and the prompt, fiery,

and resolute disposition of the man, had been kept constantly

upon the alert by the circumstances of his situation. His long

yellow hair was equally divided on 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 hung unbuttoned over a close dress

of scarlet which sat tight to his body; he had breeches of the

same, but they did not reach below the lower part of the thigh,

leaving the knee exposed. His feet had sandals of the same

fashion with the peasants, but of finer materials, and secured in

the front with golden clasps. He had bracelets of gold upon his

arms, and a broad collar of the same precious metal around his

neck. About his waist he wore a richly-studded belt, in which

was stuck a short straight two-edged sword, with a sharp point,

so disposed as