Ivanhoe by Walter Scott (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📕
well, and go to sleep, And I will lap thee with my cope, Softly to lye."
It would seem that the manuscript is here imperfect, for we do not find the reasons which finally induce the curtal Friar to amend the King's cheer. But acknowledging his guest to be such a "good fellow" as has seldom graced his board, the holy man at length produces the best his cell affords. Two candles are placed on a table, white bread and baked pasties are displayed by the light, besides choice of venison, both salt and fresh, from which they select collops. "I might have eaten my bread dry," said the King, "had I not pressed thee on the score of archery, but now have I dined like a prince---if we had but drink enow."
This too is afforded by the hospitable anchorite, who dispatches an assistant to fetch a pot of four gallons from a secret corner near his bed, and the whole three set in to serious drinking. This amusement is superintended by the Friar, according to the recurrence of certain fustian words, to be repeate
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of circumstances around her. But one word from Isaac at length
recalled her scattered feelings.
“Let us go,” he said, “my dear daughter, my recovered treasure
---let us go to throw ourselves at the feet of the good youth.”
“Not so,” said Rebecca, “O no---no---no---I must not at this
moment dare to speak to him---Alas! I should say more than---No,
my father, let us instantly leave this evil place.”
“But, my daughter,” said Isaac, “to leave him who hath come forth
like a strong man with his spear and shield, holding his life as
nothing, so he might redeem thy captivity; and thou, too, the
daughter of a people strange unto him and his---this is service
to be thankfully acknowledged.”
“It is---it is---most thankfully---most devoutly acknowledged,”
said Rebecca---“it shall be still more so---but not now---for the
sake of thy beloved Rachel, father, grant my request---not now!”
“Nay, but,” said Isaac, insisting, “they will deem us more
thankless than mere dogs!”
“But thou seest, my dear father, that King Richard is in
presence, and that------”
“True, my best---my wisest Rebecca!---Let us hence---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 usurping Templars!”
“Notwithstanding all this lip-loyalty,” said Ivanhoe to the Earl
of Essex, “it was well the King took the precaution to bring thee
with him, noble Earl, and so many of thy trusty followers.”
The Earl smiled and shook his head.
“Gallant Ivanhoe,” said Essex, “dost thou know our Master so
well, and yet suspect him of taking so wise a precaution! I was
drawing towards York having heard that Prince John was making
head there, when I met King Richard, like a true knight-errant,
galloping hither to achieve in his own person this adventure of
the Templar and the Jewess, with his own single arm. I
accompanied him with my band, almost maugre his consent.”
“And what news from York, brave Earl?” said Ivanhoe; “will the
rebels bide us there?”
“No more than December’s snow will bide July’s sun,” said the
Earl; “they are dispersing; and who should come posting to bring
us the news, but John himself!”
“The traitor! the ungrateful insolent traitor!” said Ivanhoe;
“did not Richard order him into confinement?”
“O! he received him,” answered the Earl, “as if they had met
after a hunting party; and, pointing to me and our men-at-arms,
said, ‘Thou seest, brother, I have some angry men with me---thou
wert best go to our mother, carry her my duteous affection, and
abide with her until men’s minds are pacified.’”
“And this was all he said?” enquired 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 occasion,
and which are given at length in the Wardour Manuscript, it
appears that Maurice de Bracy escaped beyond seas, and went into
the service of Philip of France; while Philip de Malvoisin, and
his brother Albert, the Preceptor of Templestowe, were executed,
although Waldemar 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 restoring a Saxon dynasty in England; for, whatever head the
Saxons might have made in the event of a civil war, it was plain
that nothing could be done under the undisputed dominion of
Richard, popular as he was by 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 reluctant
observation, that his project for an absolute union among the
Saxons, by the marriage of Rowena and Athelstane, was now
completely at an end, by the mutual dissent of both parties
concerned. This was, indeed, an event which, in his ardour for
the Saxon cause, he could not have anticipated, and even when the
disinclination of both was broadly and plainly manifested, he
could scarce bring himself to believe that two Saxons of royal
descent should scruple, on personal grounds, at an alliance so
necessary 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 pursue his addresses to the
Lady Rowena. Even the natural obstinacy of Cedric sunk beneath
these obstacles, where he, remaining on the point of junction,
had the task of dragging a reluctant pair up to it, one with each
hand. He made, however, a last vigorous attack on Athelstane,
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
Saint 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 himself and his monks, in
consequence of the tyrannical and unjust imprisonment they had
sustained. With this controversy, and with the means he had
adopted to counteract this clerical persecution, Cedric found the
mind of his friend Athelstane so fully occupied, that it had no
room for another idea. And when Rowena’s name was mentioned 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 therefore. There was obviously
no more to be made of Athelstane; or, as Wamba expressed it, in a
phrase which has descended from Saxon times to ours, he was a
cock that would not fight.
There remained betwixt Cedric and the determination which the
lovers desired to come to, only two obstacles---his own
obstinacy, and his dislike of the Norman dynasty. The former
feeling gradually gave way before the endearments of his ward,
and the pride which he could not help nourishing in the fame of
his son. Besides, he was not insensible to the honour of allying
his own line to that of Alfred, when the superior claims of the
descendant of Edward the Confessor were abandoned for ever.
Cedric’s aversion to the Norman 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 attention of King Richard, who
delighted in the blunt humour of Cedric, and, to use the language
of the Wardour Manuscript, so dealt with the noble Saxon, that,
ere he had been a guest at court for seven days, he had given his
consent to the marriage of his ward Rowena and his son Wilfred of
Ivanhoe.
The nuptials of our hero, thus formally approved by his father,
were celebrated in the most august of temples, the noble 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 Wilfred’s dangers and adversity, they
remained, as they had a right to expect, the partakers of his
more prosperous career.
But besides this domestic retinue, these distinguished nuptials
were celebrated by the attendance of the high-born Normans, as
well as Saxons, joined with the universal jubilee of the lower
orders, that marked the marriage of two individuals as a pledge
of the future peace and harmony betwixt two races, which, since
that period, have been so completely mingled, that the
distinction has become wholly invisible. Cedric lived to see
this union approximate towards its completion; for as the two
nations mixed in society and formed intermarriages with each
other, the Normans abated their scorn, and the Saxons were
refined from their rusticity. But it was not until the reign of
Edward the Third that the mixed language, now termed English, was
spoken at the court of London, and that the hostile distinction
of Norman and Saxon seems entirely to have disappeared.
It was upon the second morning after this happy bridal, that the
Lady Rowena was made acquainted by her handmaid 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 admitted, and her attendants to withdraw.
She entered---a noble and commanding figure, the long white veil,
in which she was shrouded, overshadowing rather than concealing
the elegance and majesty of her shape. Her demeanour was that of
respect, unmingled by the least shade either of fear, or of a
wish to propitiate favour. Rowena was ever ready to acknowledge
the claims, and attend to the feelings, of others. She arose,
and would have conducted her lovely visitor to a seat; 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?”
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