About : standard furniture princess canopy bed
Title : standard furniture princess canopy bed
standard furniture princess canopy bed
ivanhoe by sir walter scott chapter v hath not a jew eyes? hath not a jew hands,organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with thesame food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases,healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the samewinter and summer, as a christian is?—merchant of venice oswald, returning, whispered into the earof his master, "it is a jew,
who calls himself isaac of york; is it fiti should marshall him into the hall?" "let gurth do thine office, oswald," saidwamba with his usual effrontery; "the swineherd will be a fit usherto the jew." "st mary," said the abbot, crossing himself,"an unbelieving jew, and admitted into this presence!" "a dog jew," echoed the templar, "to approacha defender of the holy sepulchre?" "by my faith," said wamba, "it would seemthe templars love the jews'
inheritance better than they do their company." "peace, my worthy guests," said cedric; "myhospitality must not be bounded by your dislikes. if heaven bore withthe whole nation of stiff-necked unbelievers for more years thana 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 himhave a board and a morsel apart,—unless," he said smiling, "theseturban'd strangers will admit his society." "sir franklin," answered the templar, "mysaracen slaves are true
moslems, and scorn as much as any christianto hold intercourse with a jew." "now, in faith," said wamba, "i cannot seethat the worshippers of mahound and termagaunt have so greatly theadvantage 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 relicsof a gammon of bacon, "will take care to erect a bulwark againstthe knave."
"hush," said cedric, "for here he comes." introduced with little ceremony, and advancingwith fear and hesitation, and many a bow of deep humility, a tall thinold man, who, however, had lost by the habit of stooping much of hisactual height, approached the lower end of the board. his features, keenand regular, with an aquiline nose, and piercing black eyes; his high andwrinkled forehead, and long grey hair and beard, would have been consideredas handsome, had they not been the marks of a physiognomy peculiarto a race, which, during those dark ages, was alike detested by thecredulous and prejudiced
vulgar, and persecuted by the greedy and rapaciousnobility, and who, perhaps, owing to that very hatred and persecution,had adopted a national character, in which there was much,to say the least, mean and unamiable. the jew's dress, which appeared to have sufferedconsiderably from the storm, was a plain russet cloak of many folds,covering a dark purple tunic. he had large boots lined with fur,and a belt around his waist, which sustained a small knife, togetherwith a case for writing materials, but no weapon. he wore a high squareyellow cap of a peculiar
fashion, assigned to his nation to distinguishthem from christians, and which he doffed with great humility at thedoor of the hall. the reception of this person in the hall ofcedric the saxon, was such as might have satisfied the most prejudicedenemy of the tribes of israel. cedric himself coldly nodded in answerto the jew's repeated salutations, and signed to him to take placeat the lower end of the table, where, however, no one offered to makeroom for him. on the contrary, as he passed along the file, castinga timid supplicating glance, and turning towards each of thosewho occupied the lower end of
the board, the saxon domestics squared theirshoulders, and continued to devour their supper with great perseverance,paying not the least attention to the wants of the new guest. theattendants of the abbot crossed themselves, with looks of pious horror,and the very heathen saracens, as isaac drew near them, curledup their whiskers with indignation, and laid their hands on theirponiards, as if ready to rid themselves by the most desperate meansfrom the apprehended contamination of his nearer approach. probably the same motives which induced cedricto open his hall to this
son of a rejected people, would have madehim insist on his attendants receiving isaac with more courtesy. but theabbot had, at this moment, engaged him in a most interesting discussionon the breed and character of his favourite hounds, which he would nothave interrupted for matters of much greater importance than that of ajew going to bed supperless. while isaac thus stood an outcast in the presentsociety, like his people among the nations, looking in vainfor welcome or resting place, the pilgrim who sat by the chimneytook compassion upon him, and resigned his seat, saying briefly, "old man,my garments are dried,
my hunger is appeased, thou art both wet andfasting." so saying, he gathered together, and brought to a flame,the decaying brands which lay scattered on the ample hearth; took fromthe larger board a mess of pottage and seethed kid, placed it upon thesmall table at which he had himself supped, and, without waiting the jew'sthanks, went to the other side of the hall;—whether from unwillingnessto hold more close communication with the object of his benevolence,or from a wish to draw near to the upper end of the table, seemeduncertain. had there been painters in those days capableto execute such a subject,
the jew, as he bent his withered form, andexpanded his chilled and trembling hands over the fire, would haveformed no bad emblematical personification of the winter season. havingdispelled the cold, he turned eagerly to the smoking mess which wasplaced before him, and ate with a haste and an apparent relish, thatseemed to betoken long abstinence from food. meanwhile the abbot and cedric continued theirdiscourse upon hunting; the lady rowena seemed engaged in conversationwith one of her attendant females; and the haughty templar, whose eyewandered from the jew to
the saxon beauty, revolved in his mind thoughtswhich appeared deeply to interest him. "i marvel, worthy cedric," said the abbot,as their discourse proceeded, "that, great as your predilection is for yourown 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-sportsdemand, or furnishes means to the experienced woodman so well toexpress his jovial art." "good father aymer," said the saxon, "be itknown to you, i care not
for those over-sea refinements, without whichi can well enough take my pleasure in the woods. i can wind my horn,though i call not the blast either a 'recheate' or a 'morte'—i can cheermy dogs on the prey, and i can flay and quarter the animal when itis brought down, without using the newfangled jargon of 'curee, arbor, nombles',and all the babble of the fabulous sir tristrem." [14] "the french," said the templar, raising hisvoice with the presumptuous and authoritative tone which he used uponall occasions, "is not only the natural language of the chase, but thatof love and of war, in which
ladies should be won and enemies defied." "pledge me in a cup of wine, sir templar,"said cedric, "and fill another to the abbot, while i look back somethirty years to tell you another tale. as cedric the saxon then was,his plain english tale needed no garnish from french troubadours,when it was told in the ear of beauty; and the field of northallerton,upon the day of the holy standard, could tell whether the saxon war-crywas not heard as far within the ranks of the scottish host as the'cri de guerre' of the boldest norman baron. to the memory ofthe brave who fought
there!—pledge me, my guests." he drank deep,and went on with increasing warmth. "ay, that was a day ofcleaving of shields, when a hundred banners were bent forwards over theheads of the valiant, and blood flowed round like water, and death washeld better than flight. a saxon bard had called it a feast of theswords—a gathering of the eagles to the prey—the clashing of billsupon shield and helmet, the shouting of battle more joyful than the clamourof a bridal. but our bards are no more," he said; "our deeds arelost in those of another race—our language—our very name—is hasteningto decay, and none
mourns for it save one solitary old man—cupbearer!knave, fill the goblets—to the strong in arms, sir templar,be their race or language what it will, who now bear them best in palestineamong the champions of the cross!" "it becomes not one wearing this badge toanswer," said sir brian de bois-guilbert; "yet to whom, besides the swornchampions of the holy sepulchre, can the palm be assigned amongthe 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;"nevertheless—-" "i think, friend cedric," said wamba, interfering,"that had richard of the lion's heart been wise enough to havetaken a fool's advice, he might have staid at home with his merryenglishmen, and left the recovery of jerusalem to those same knightswho had most to do with the loss of it." "were there, then, none in the english army,"said the lady rowena, "whose names are worthy to be mentioned withthe 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 gallantwarriors, second only to those whose breasts have been the unceasingbulwark of that blessed land." "second to none," said the pilgrim, who hadstood near enough to hear, and had listened to this conversation withmarked impatience. all turned toward the spot from whence this unexpectedasseveration was heard. "i say," repeated the pilgrim in a firm andstrong voice, "that the english chivalry were second to none who everdrew sword in defence of
the holy land. i say besides, for i saw it,that king richard himself, and five of his knights, held a tournamentafter the taking of st john-de-acre, as challengers against all comers.i say that, on that day, each knight ran three courses, and castto the ground three antagonists. i add, that seven of these assailantswere knights of the temple—and sir brian de bois-guilbert wellknows the truth of what i tell you." it is impossible for language to describethe bitter scowl of rage which rendered yet darker the swarthy countenanceof the templar. in the
extremity of his resentment and confusion,his quivering fingers griped towards the handle of his sword, and perhapsonly withdrew, from the consciousness that no act of violence couldbe safely executed in that place and presence. cedric, whose feelingswere all of a right onward and simple kind, and were seldom occupiedby more than one object at once, omitted, in the joyous glee with whichhe heard of the glory of his countrymen, to remark the angry confusionof his guest; "i would give thee this golden bracelet, pilgrim,"he said, "couldst thou tell me the names of those knights who upheld so gallantlythe renown of merry
england." "that will i do blithely," replied the pilgrim,"and without guerdon; my oath, for a time, prohibits me from touchinggold." "i will wear the bracelet for you, if youwill, friend palmer," said wamba. "the first in honour as in arms, in renownas in place," said the pilgrim, "was the brave richard, king of england." "i forgive him," said cedric; "i forgive himhis descent from the tyrant duke william."
"the earl of leicester was the second," continuedthe 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 thepilgrim. "saxon also, at least by the mother's side,"continued cedric, who listened with the utmost eagerness, and forgot,in part at least, his hatred to the normans, in the common triumphof the king of england and his islanders. "and who was the fifth?" hedemanded. "the fifth was sir edwin turneham."
"genuine saxon, by the soul of hengist!" shoutedcedric—"and the sixth?" he continued with eagerness—"howname you the sixth?" "the sixth," said the palmer, after a pause,in which he seemed to recollect himself, "was a young knight oflesser renown and lower rank, assumed into that honourable company, lessto aid their enterprise than to make up their number—his name dwellsnot in my memory." "sir palmer," said sir brian de bois-guilbertscornfully, "this assumed forgetfulness, after so much has been remembered,comes too late to serve your purpose. i will myself tell thename of the knight before
whose lance fortune and my horse's fault occasionedmy falling—it was the knight of ivanhoe; nor was there one ofthe six that, for his years, had more renown in arms.—yet this will isay, and loudly—that were he in england, and durst repeat, in this week'stournament, the challenge of st john-de-acre, i, mounted and armed asi now am, would give him every advantage of weapons, and abide theresult." "your challenge would soon be answered," repliedthe palmer, "were your antagonist near you. as the matter is, disturbnot the peaceful hall with vaunts of the issue of the 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, takinga small ivory box from his bosom, and crossing himself, "containing aportion of the true cross, brought from the monastery of mount carmel." the prior of jorvaulx crossed himself andrepeated a pater noster, in which all devoutly joined, excepting the jew,the mahomedans, and the
templar; the latter of whom, without vailinghis bonnet, or testifying any reverence for the alleged sanctity ofthe relic, took from his neck a gold chain, which he flung on the board,saying—"let prior aymer hold my pledge and that of this nameless vagrant,in token that when the knight of ivanhoe comes within the four seasof britain, he underlies the challenge of brian de bois-guilbert, which,if he answer not, i will proclaim him as a coward on the walls of everytemple court in europe." "it will not need," said the lady rowena,breaking silence; "my voice shall be heard, if no other in this hall israised in behalf of the
absent ivanhoe. i affirm he will meet fairlyevery honourable challenge. could my weak warrant add security to theinestimable pledge of this holy pilgrim, i would pledge name and famethat ivanhoe gives this proud knight the meeting he desires." a crowd of conflicting emotions seemed tohave occupied cedric, and kept him silent during this discussion. gratifiedpride, resentment, embarrassment, chased each other over hisbroad and open brow, like the shadow of clouds drifting over a harvest-field;while his attendants, on whom the name of the sixth knight seemedto produce an effect almost
electrical, hung in suspense upon their master'slooks. but when rowena spoke, the sound of her voice seemed to startlehim from his silence. "lady," said cedric, "this beseems not; werefurther pledge necessary, i myself, offended, and justly offended, asi am, would yet gage my honour for the honour of ivanhoe. but the wager ofbattle is complete, even according to the fantastic fashions of normanchivalry—is it not, father aymer?" "it is," replied the prior; "and the blessedrelic and rich chain will i bestow safely in the treasury of our convent,until the decision of this
warlike challenge." having thus spoken, he crossed himself againand again, and after many genuflections and muttered prayers, hedelivered the reliquary to brother ambrose, his attendant monk, whilehe himself swept up with less ceremony, but perhaps with no less internalsatisfaction, the golden chain, and bestowed it in a pouch lined withperfumed leather, which opened under his arm. "and now, sir cedric,"he said, "my ears are chiming vespers with the strength of yourgood 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 abonny 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 myfaith, a saxon boy of twelve, in my time, would not so soon have relinquishedhis goblet." the prior had his own reasons, however, forpersevering in the course of temperance which he had adopted. he wasnot only a professional peacemaker, but from practice a hater of allfeuds 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 presumptuous spirit, of whichhis companion had already given so many proofs, might at lengthproduce some disagreeable explosion. he therefore gently insinuatedthe incapacity of the native of any other country to engage in the genialconflict of the bowl with the hardy and strong-headed saxons; somethinghe mentioned, but slightly, about his own holy character, andended 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 thelady rowena, arose and mingled in the hall, while the heads of thefamily, by separate doors, retired with their attendants. "unbelieving dog," said the templar to isaacthe jew, as he passed him in the throng, "dost thou bend thy courseto the tournament?" "i do so propose," replied isaac, bowing inall humility, "if it please your reverend valour."
"ay," said the knight, "to gnaw the bowelsof our nobles with usury, and to gull women and boys with gauds andtoys—i warrant thee store of shekels in thy jewish scrip." "not a shekel, not a silver penny, not a halfling—sohelp me the god of abraham!" said the jew, clasping his hands;"i go but to seek the assistance of some brethren of my tribe toaid me to pay the fine which the exchequer of the jews have imposed uponme—father jacob be my speed! i am an impoverished wretch—the verygaberdine i wear is borrowed from reuben of tadcaster." [15]
the templar smiled sourly as he replied, "beshrewthee for a false-hearted liar!" and passing onward, asif disdaining farther conference, he communed with his moslem slavesin a language unknown to the bystanders. the poor israelite seemedso staggered by the address of the military monk, that the templar hadpassed on to the extremity of the hall ere he raised his head from thehumble 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 airof one at whose feet a thunderbolt has just burst, and who hearsstill the astounding report
ringing in his ears. the templar and prior were shortly after marshalledto their sleeping apartments by the steward and the cupbearer,each attended by two torchbearers and two servants carrying refreshments,while servants of inferior condition indicated to their retinueand to the other guests their respective places of repose. 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 witha torch, passed through the intricate combination of apartments of thislarge and irregular mansion, the cupbearer coming behind him whisperedin his ear, that if he had no objection to a cup of good mead in hisapartment, there were many domestics in that family who would gladlyhear the news he had brought from the holy land, and particularly thatwhich concerned the knight of ivanhoe. wamba presently appeared to urgethe same request, observing that a cup after midnight was worth threeafter curfew. without disputing a maxim urged by such grave authority,the palmer thanked them
for their courtesy, but observed that he hadincluded in his religious vow, an obligation never to speak in the kitchenon matters which were prohibited in the hall. "that vow," said wambato the cupbearer, "would scarce suit a serving-man." the cupbearer shrugged up his shoulders indispleasure. "i thought to have lodged him in the solere chamber," saidhe; "but since he is so unsocial to christians, e'en let him takethe next stall to isaac the jew's.—anwold," said he to the torchbearer,"carry the pilgrim to the southern cell.—i give you good-night," headded, "sir palmer, with
small thanks for short courtesy." "good-night, and our lady's benison," saidthe palmer, with composure; and his guide moved forward. in a small antechamber, into which severaldoors opened, and which was lighted by a small iron lamp, they met a secondinterruption from the waiting-maid of rowena, who, saying in a toneof authority, that her mistress desired to speak with the palmer,took the torch from the hand of anwold, and, bidding him await her return,made a sign to the palmer to follow. apparently he did not thinkit proper to decline this
invitation as he had done the former; for,though his gesture indicated some surprise at the summons, heobeyed 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 tothe apartment of the lady rowena, the rude magnificence of which correspondedto the respect which was paid to her by the lord of the mansion.the walls were covered with embroidered hangings, on which different-colouredsilks, interwoven with gold and silver threads, had been employedwith all the art of which the
age was capable, to represent the sports ofhunting and hawking. the bed was adorned with the same rich tapestry, andsurrounded with curtains dyed with purple. the seats had also theirstained coverings, and one, which was higher than the rest, was accommodatedwith a footstool of ivory, curiously carved. no fewer than four silver candelabras, holdinggreat waxen torches, served to illuminate this apartment. yet letnot modern beauty envy the magnificence of a saxon princess. the wallsof the apartment were so ill finished and so full of crevices, that therich hangings shook in the
night blast, and, in despite of a sort ofscreen intended to protect them from the wind, the flame of the torchesstreamed sideways into the air, like the unfurled pennon of a chieftain.magnificence there was, with some rude attempt at taste; but of comfortthere was little, and, being unknown, it was unmissed. the lady rowena, with three of her attendantsstanding 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 ifborn to exact general homage. the pilgrim acknowledged her claim to it bya low genuflection.
"rise, palmer," said she graciously. "thedefender of the absent has a right to favourable reception from all whovalue truth, and honour manhood." she then said to her train, "retire,excepting only elgitha; i would speak with this holy pilgrim." the maidens, without leaving the apartment,retired to its further extremity, and sat down on a small bench againstthe wall, where they remained mute as statues, though at such adistance that their whispers could not have interrupted the conversationof their mistress. "pilgrim," said the lady, after a moment'spause, during which she
seemed uncertain how to address him, "youthis 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 shouldhave sounded most acceptably; and yet, such is the perversecourse of fate, that of many whose hearts must have throbbed at the sound,i, only, dare ask you where, and in what condition, you left himof whom you spoke?—we heard, that, having remained in palestine, on accountof his impaired health, after the departure of the english army, hehad experienced the persecution of the french faction, to whomthe templars are known to be
attached." "i know little of the knight of ivanhoe,"answered the palmer, with a troubled voice. "i would i knew him better,since you, lady, are interested in his fate. he hath, i believe,surmounted the persecution of his enemies in palestine, and is on theeve 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 moreparticularly when the knight of ivanhoe might be expected in hisnative country, and whether
he would not be exposed to great dangers bythe road. on the first point, the palmer professed ignorance; onthe second, he said that the voyage might be safely made by the way ofvenice and genoa, and from thence through france to england. "ivanhoe,"he said, "was so well acquainted with the language and manners ofthe french, that there was no fear of his incurring any hazard duringthat part of his travels." "would to god," said the lady rowena, "hewere here safely arrived, and able to bear arms in the approaching tourney,in which the chivalry of this land are expected to display theiraddress and valour. should
athelstane of coningsburgh obtain the prize,ivanhoe is like to hear evil tidings when he reaches england.—howlooked he, stranger, when you last saw him? had disease laid her handheavy 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, andcare seemed to sit heavy on his brow; but i approached not his presence,because he is unknown to me." "he will," said the lady, "i fear, find littlein his native land to
clear those clouds from his countenance. thanks,good pilgrim, for your information concerning the companion of mychildhood.—maidens," she said, "draw near—offer the sleeping cupto 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 toher lips. it was then offered to the palmer, who, after a low obeisance,tasted a few drops. "accept this alms, friend," continued thelady, offering a piece of gold, "in acknowledgment of thy painful travail,and of the shrines thou
hast visited." the palmer received the boon with anotherlow reverence, and followed edwina out of the apartment. in the anteroom he found his attendant anwold,who, taking the torch from the hand of the waiting-maid, conductedhim with more haste than ceremony to an exterior and ignoble part ofthe building, where a number of small apartments, or rather cells, servedfor sleeping places to the lower order of domestics, and to strangersof mean degree. "in which of these sleeps the jew?" said thepilgrim.
"the unbelieving dog," answered anwold, "kennelsin the cell next your holiness.—st dunstan, how it must be scrapedand cleansed ere it be again fit for a christian!" "and where sleeps gurth the swineherd?" saidthe stranger. "gurth," replied the bondsman, "sleeps inthe cell on your right, as the jew on that to your left; you serve to keepthe child of circumcision separate from the abomination of his tribe.you might have occupied a more honourable place had you accepted ofoswald's invitation." "it is as well as it is," said the palmer;"the company, even of a jew,
can hardly spread contamination through anoaken partition." so saying, he entered the cabin allotted tohim, and taking the torch from the domestic's hand, thanked him, andwished him good-night. having shut the door of his cell, he placed the torchin a candlestick made of wood, and looked around his sleeping apartment,the furniture of which was of the most simple kind. it consistedof a rude wooden stool, and still ruder hutch or bed-frame, stuffedwith clean straw, and accommodated with two or three sheepskinsby way of bed-clothes. the palmer, having extinguished his torch,threw himself, without taking
off any part of his clothes, on this rudecouch, and slept, or at least retained his recumbent posture, till the earliestsunbeams found their way through the little grated window, whichserved at once to admit both air and light to his uncomfortable cell. hethen started up, and after repeating his matins, and adjusting his dress,he left it, and entered that of isaac the jew, lifting the latch asgently as he could. the inmate was lying in troubled slumber upona 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 precedingevening, were disposed
carefully around his person, as if to preventthe hazard of their being carried off during his slumbers. therewas a trouble on his brow amounting almost to agony. his hands and armsmoved convulsively, as if struggling with the nightmare; and besidesseveral ejaculations in hebrew, the following were distinctly heardin the norman-english, or mixed language of the country: "for the sakeof the god of abraham, spare an unhappy old man! i am poor, i ampenniless—should your irons wrench my limbs asunder, i could not gratifyyou!" the palmer awaited not the end of the jew'svision, but stirred him with
his pilgrim's staff. the touch probably associated,as is usual, with some of the apprehensions excited by his dream;for the old man started up, his grey hair standing almost erect uponhis head, and huddling some part of his garments about him, while he heldthe detached pieces with the tenacious grasp of a falcon, he fixedupon the palmer his keen black eyes, expressive of wild surprise and of bodilyapprehension. "fear nothing from me, isaac," said the palmer,"i come as your friend." "the god of israel requite you," said thejew, greatly relieved; "i dreamed—but father abraham be praised, itwas but a dream." then,
collecting himself, he added in his usualtone, "and what may it be your pleasure to want at so early an hour withthe poor jew?" "it is to tell you," said the palmer, "thatif you leave not this mansion instantly, and travel not with somehaste, your journey may prove a dangerous one." "holy father!" said the jew, "whom could itinterest to endanger so poor a wretch as i am?" "the purpose you can best guess," said thepilgrim; "but rely on this, that when the templar crossed the hall yesternight,he spoke to his
mussulman slaves in the saracen language,which i well understand, and charged them this morning to watch the journeyof the jew, to seize upon him when at a convenient distance from themansion, and to conduct him to the castle of philip de malvoisin,or to that of reginald front-de-boeuf." it is impossible to describe the extremityof terror which seized upon the jew at this information, and seemed atonce 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, everynerve 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 whointentionally stoops, kneels, or prostrates himself to excite compassion,but like a man borne down on all sides by the pressure of some invisibleforce, which crushes him to the earth without the power of resistance. "holy god of abraham!" was his first exclamation,folding and elevating his wrinkled hands, but without raising hisgrey head from the pavement; "oh, holy moses! o, blessed aaron! the dreamis not dreamed for nought, and the vision cometh not in vain! i feeltheir irons already tear my
sinews! i feel the rack pass over my bodylike the saws, and harrows, and axes of iron over the men of rabbah, andof the cities of the children of ammon!" "stand up, isaac, and hearken to me," saidthe palmer, who viewed the extremity of his distress with a compassionin which contempt was largely mingled; "you have cause for yourterror, considering how your brethren have been used, in order to extortfrom 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 mansion instantly,while its inmates
sleep sound after the last night's revel.i will guide you by the secret paths of the forest, known as well to me asto any forester that ranges it, and i will not leave you till you areunder safe conduct of some chief or baron going to the tournament, whosegood-will you have probably the means of securing." as the ears of isaac received the hopes ofescape which this speech intimated, he began gradually, and inch byinch, as it were, to raise himself up from the ground, until he fairlyrested 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 expressiveat once of hope and fear, not unmingled with suspicion. but whenhe heard the concluding part of the sentence, his original terrorappeared to revive in full force, and he dropt once more on his face,exclaiming, "'i' possess the means of securing good-will! alas! there isbut one road to the favour of a christian, and how can the poor jew findit, whom extortions have already reduced to the misery of lazarus?"then, as if suspicion had overpowered his other feelings, he suddenlyexclaimed, "for the love of god, young man, betray me not—for the sakeof the great father who
made us all, jew as well as gentile, israeliteand ishmaelite—do me no treason! i have not means to secure the good-willof a christian beggar, were he rating it at a single penny." as hespoke these last words, he raised himself, and grasped the palmer's mantlewith a look of the most earnest entreaty. the pilgrim extricatedhimself, as if there were contamination in the touch. "wert thou loaded with all the wealth of thytribe," he said, "what interest have i to injure thee?—in thisdress i am vowed to poverty, nor do i change it for aught save a horseand a coat of mail. yet think
not that i care for thy company, or proposemyself advantage by it; remain here if thou wilt—cedric the saxonmay protect thee." "alas!" said the jew, "he will not let metravel in his train—saxon or norman will be equally ashamed of the poorisraelite; and to travel by myself through the domains of philip demalvoisin and reginald front-de-boeuf—good youth, i will go withyou!—let us haste—let us gird up our loins—let us flee!—hereis thy staff, why wilt thou tarry?" "i tarry not," said the pilgrim, giving wayto the urgency of his
companion; "but i must secure the means ofleaving this place—follow 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, andlet out the jew and me." gurth, whose occupation, though now held somean, gave him as much consequence in saxon england as that of eumaeusin ithaca, was offended at the familiar and commanding tone assumedby the palmer. "the jew leaving rotherwood," said he, raising himselfon his elbow, and looking superciliously at him without quitting hispallet, "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 agammon of bacon." "nevertheless," said gurth, again laying downhis head on the wooden log which served him for a pillow, "both jew andgentile must be content to abide the opening of the great gate—we sufferno visitors to depart by stealth at these unseasonable hours." "nevertheless," said the pilgrim, in a commandingtone, "you will not, i think, refuse me that favour."
so saying, he stooped over the bed of therecumbent swineherd, and whispered something in his ear in saxon. gurthstarted up as if electrified. the pilgrim, raising his fingerin an attitude as if to express caution, added, "gurth, beware—thouare wont to be prudent. i say, undo the postern—thou shalt know moreanon." with hasty alacrity gurth obeyed him, whilewamba and the jew followed, both wondering at the sudden change in theswineherd's demeanour. "my mule, my mule!" said the jew, as soon as theystood without the postern. "fetch him his mule," said the pilgrim; "and,hearest thou,—let me have
another, that i may bear him company tillhe is beyond these parts—i will return it safely to some of cedric'strain 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 wamba, when his comrade'sback 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," answeredthe jester; "for when would repentance or prayer make gurth do a courtesy,or fasting or vigil persuade him to lend you a mule?—i trowyou 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 asaxon fool." "thou sayst well," said the jester; "had ibeen born a norman, as i think thou art, i would have had luck on myside, and been next door to a wise man."
at this moment gurth appeared on the oppositeside of the moat with the mules. the travellers crossed the ditch upona drawbridge of only two planks breadth, the narrowness of which wasmatched with the straitness of the postern, and with a little wicket inthe exterior palisade, which gave access to the forest. no sooner had theyreached the mules, than the jew, with hasty and trembling hands, securedbehind the saddle a small bag of blue buckram, which he tookfrom under his cloak, containing, as he muttered, "a change of raiment—onlya change of raiment." then getting upon the animal withmore alacrity and haste
than could have been anticipated from hisyears, he lost no time in so disposing of the skirts of his gabardine asto 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 theutmost possible veneration. the swineherd stood gazing after the travellersuntil they were lost under the boughs of the forest path, whenhe was disturbed from his reverie by the voice of wamba. "knowest thou," said the jester, "my goodfriend gurth, that thou art
strangely courteous and most unwontedly piouson 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 wouldmake more out of it than a kiss of the hand." "thou art no fool thus far, wamba," answeredgurth, "though thou arguest from appearances, and the wisest of us cando 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 presson their journey with a
dispatch which argued the extremity of thejew's fears, since persons at his age are seldom fond of rapid motion. thepalmer, 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 excitedanew the suspicion of the israelite, that he intended to betrayhim into some ambuscade of his enemies. his doubts might have been indeed pardoned;for, except perhaps the flying fish, there was no race existing onthe earth, in the air, or the waters, who were the object of such anunintermitting, general, and
relentless persecution as the jews of thisperiod. upon the slightest and most unreasonable pretences, as well asupon accusations the most absurd and groundless, their persons and propertywere exposed to every turn of popular fury; for norman, saxon, dane,and briton, however adverse these races were to each other, contendedwhich should look with greatest detestation upon a people, whom itwas accounted a point of religion to hate, to revile, to despise, toplunder, and to persecute. the kings of the norman race, and the independentnobles, who followed their example in all acts of tyranny, maintainedagainst 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 dailycaused one of his teeth to be torn out, until, when the jaw of the unhappyisraelite was half disfurnished, he consented to pay a largesum, which it was the tyrant's object to extort from him. the little readymoney which was in the country was chiefly in possession of thispersecuted people, and the nobility hesitated not to follow the exampleof their sovereign, in wringing it from them by every species ofoppression, and even personal
torture. yet the passive courage inspiredby the love of gain, induced the jews to dare the various evils to whichthey were subjected, in consideration of the immense profits whichthey were enabled to realize in a country naturally so wealthy as england.in spite of every kind of discouragement, and even of the specialcourt of taxations already mentioned, called the jews' exchequer, erectedfor the very purpose of despoiling and distressing them, the jewsincreased, multiplied, and accumulated huge sums, which they transferredfrom one hand to another by means of bills of exchange—an inventionfor which commerce is said
to be indebted to them, and which enabledthem to transfer their wealth from land to land, that when threatened withoppression in one country, their treasure might be secured in another. the obstinacy and avarice of the jews beingthus in a measure placed in opposition to the fanaticism that tyrannyof those under whom they lived, seemed to increase in proportion tothe persecution with which they were visited; and the immense wealththey usually acquired in commerce, while it frequently placed themin danger, was at other times used to extend their influence, and to secureto them a certain
degree of protection. on these terms theylived; and their character, influenced accordingly, was watchful, suspicious,and timid—yet obstinate, uncomplying, and skilful in evadingthe dangers to which they were exposed. when the travellers had pushed on at a rapidrate through many devious paths, the palmer at length broke silence. "that large decayed oak," he said, "marksthe boundaries over which front-de-boeuf claims authority—we are longsince far from those of malvoisin. there is now no fear of pursuit."
"may the wheels of their chariots be takenoff," said the jew, "like those of the host of pharaoh, that they maydrive heavily!—but leave me not, good pilgrim—think but of that fierceand savage templar, with his saracen slaves—they will regard neitherterritory, nor manor, nor lordship." "our road," said the palmer, "should hereseparate; for it beseems not men of my character and thine to travel togetherlonger than needs must be. besides, what succour couldst thou havefrom me, a peaceful pilgrim, against two armed heathens?"
"o good youth," answered the jew, "thou canstdefend me, and i know thou wouldst. poor as i am, i will requite it—notwith money, for money, so help me my father abraham, i have none—but—-" "money and recompense," said the palmer, interruptinghim, "i have already said i require not of thee. guidethee i can; and, it may be, even in some sort defend thee; since to protecta jew against a saracen, can scarce be accounted unworthy of a christian.therefore, jew, i will see thee safe under some fitting escort. weare now not far from the town of sheffield, where thou mayest easilyfind many of thy tribe with
whom to take refuge." "the blessing of jacob be upon thee, goodyouth!" said the jew; "in sheffield i can harbour with my kinsman zareth,and find some means of travelling forth with safety." "be it so," said the palmer; "at sheffieldthen we part, and half-an-hour's riding will bring us in sightof that town." the half hour was spent in perfect silenceon both parts; the pilgrim perhaps disdaining to address the jew, exceptin case of absolute necessity, and the jew not presuming to forcea conversation with a
person whose journey to the holy sepulchregave a sort of sanctity to his character. they paused on the top of agently 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 mykinsman zareth's, who might aid me with some means of repaying your goodoffices." "i have already said," answered the pilgrim,"that i desire no recompense. if among the huge list of thydebtors, thou wilt, for my
sake, spare the gyves and the dungeon to someunhappy christian who stands in thy danger, i shall hold this morning'sservice to thee well bestowed." "stay, stay," said the jew, laying hold ofhis garment; "something would i do more than this, something for thyself.—godknows the jew is poor—yes, isaac is the beggar of histribe—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 saystthou art poor."
"as i say?" echoed the jew; "o! believe it,i say but the truth; i am a plundered, indebted, distressed man. hardhands have wrung from me my goods, my money, my ships, and all that ipossessed—yet i can tell thee what thou lackest, and, it may be, supplyit too. thy wish even now is for a horse and armour." the palmer started, and turned suddenly towardsthe jew:—"what fiend prompted that guess?" said he, hastily. "no matter," said the jew, smiling, "so thatit be a true one—and, as i can guess thy want, so i can supply it."
"but consider," said the palmer, "my character,my dress, my vow." "i know you christians," replied the jew,"and that the noblest of you will take the staff and sandal in superstitiouspenance, 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, likesparks from flint, showed the metal within; and in the bosom of thatpalmer's gown, is hidden a knight's chain and spurs of gold. they glancedas you stooped over my
bed in the morning." the pilgrim could not forbear smiling. "werethy garments searched by as curious an eye, isaac," said he, "what discoveriesmight not be made?" "no more of that," said the jew, changingcolour; and drawing forth his writing materials in haste, as if to stopthe conversation, he began to write upon a piece of paper which he supportedon the top of his yellow cap, without dismounting from his mule.when he had finished, he delivered the scroll, which was in the hebrewcharacter, to the pilgrim, saying, "in the town of leicester all menknow the rich jew, kirjath
jairam of lombardy; give him this scroll—hehath on sale six milan harnesses, the worst would suit a crownedhead—ten goodly steeds, the worst might mount a king, were he to do battlefor his throne. of these he will give thee thy choice, with every thingelse that can furnish thee forth for the tournament: when it isover, thou wilt return them safely—unless thou shouldst have wherewithto pay their value to the owner." "but, isaac," said the pilgrim, smiling, "dostthou know that in these sports, the arms and steed of the knight whois unhorsed are forfeit to
his victor? now i may be unfortunate, andso lose what i cannot replace or repay." the jew looked somewhat astounded at thispossibility; but collecting his courage, he replied hastily. "no—no—no—itis impossible—i will not think so. the blessing of our father willbe upon thee. thy lance will be powerful as the rod of moses." so saying, he was turning his mule's headaway, when the palmer, in his turn, took hold of his gaberdine. "nay, butisaac, thou knowest not all the risk. the steed may be slain, the armourinjured—for i will spare
neither horse nor man. besides, those of thytribe give nothing for nothing; something there must be paid fortheir use." the jew twisted himself in the saddle, likea man in a fit of the colic; but his better feelings predominated overthose which were most familiar to him. "i care not," he said, "i care not—letme go. if there is damage, it will cost you nothing—if thereis usage money, kirjath jairam will forgive it for the sake of hiskinsman isaac. fare thee well!—yet hark thee, good youth," said he,turning about, "thrust thyself not too forward into this vain hurly-burly—ispeak 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 hardwith me but i will requite it." they parted, and took different roads forthe town of sheffield. chapter vii knights, with a long retinue of their squires,in gaudy liveries march and quaint attires; one laced the helm, another held the lance,a third the shining buckler did advance.
the courser paw'd the ground with restlessfeet, and snorting foam'd and champ'd the goldenbit. 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 cudgelsin their hands. —palamon and arcite the condition of the english nation was atthis time sufficiently miserable. king richard was absent a prisoner,and in the power of
the perfidious and cruel duke of austria.even the very place of his captivity was uncertain, and his fate butvery imperfectly known to the generality of his subjects, who were, in themeantime, 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 influencewith 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 wasstrengthening his own faction in the kingdom, of which he proposedto dispute the succession,
in case of the king's death, with the legitimateheir, arthur duke of brittany, son of geoffrey plantagenet, theelder brother of john. this usurpation, it is well known, he afterwardseffected. his own character being light, profligate, and perfidious, johneasily attached to his person and faction, not only all who had reasonto dread the resentment of richard for criminal proceedings duringhis absence, but also the numerous class of "lawless resolutes," whomthe crusades had turned back on their country, accomplished in the vicesof the east, impoverished in substance, and hardened in character, andwho placed their hopes
of harvest in civil commotion. to these causesof public distress and apprehension, must be added, the multitudeof outlaws, who, driven to despair by the oppression of the feudalnobility, and the severe exercise of the forest laws, banded togetherin large gangs, and, keeping possession of the forests and thewastes, set at defiance the justice and magistracy of the country. thenobles themselves, each fortified within his own castle, and playingthe petty sovereign over his own dominions, were the leaders of bandsscarce less lawless and oppressive than those of the avowed depredators.to maintain these
retainers, and to support the extravaganceand magnificence which their pride induced them to affect, the nobilityborrowed sums of money from the jews at the most usurious interest, whichgnawed into their estates like consuming cankers, scarce to be curedunless 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 thisunhappy state of affairs, the people of england suffered deeply forthe present, and had yet more dreadful cause to fear for the future.to augment their misery, a
contagious disorder of a dangerous naturespread through the land; and, rendered more virulent by the uncleanness,the indifferent food, and the wretched lodging of the lower classes,swept off many whose fate the survivors were tempted to envy, as exemptingthem from the evils which were to come. yet amid these accumulated distresses, thepoor as well as the rich, the vulgar as well as the noble, in the eventof a tournament, which was the grand spectacle of that age, felt as muchinterested as the half-starved citizen of madrid, who has not a real leftto buy provisions for his
family, feels in the issue of a bull-feast.neither duty nor infirmity could keep youth or age from such exhibitions.the passage of arms, as it was called, which was to take placeat ashby, in the county of leicester, as champions of the first renownwere to take the field in the presence of prince john himself, whowas expected to grace the lists, had attracted universal attention,and an immense confluence of persons of all ranks hastened upon the appointedmorning to the place of combat. the scene was singularly romantic. on theverge of a wood, which
approached to within a mile of the town ofashby, was an extensive meadow, of the finest and most beautiful greenturf, surrounded on one side by the forest, and fringed on the otherby straggling oak-trees, some of which had grown to an immense size.the ground, as if fashioned on purpose for the martial display which wasintended, sloped gradually down on all sides to a level bottom, whichwas enclosed for the lists with strong palisades, forming a space ofa quarter of a mile in length, and about half as broad. the form of the enclosurewas an oblong square, save that the corners were considerably roundedoff, in order to afford
more convenience for the spectators. the openingsfor the entry of the combatants were at the northern and southernextremities of the lists, accessible by strong wooden gates, each wideenough to admit two horsemen riding abreast. at each of theseportals were stationed two heralds, attended by six trumpets, as manypursuivants, and a strong body of men-at-arms for maintaining order,and ascertaining the quality of the knights who proposed to engage in thismartial game. on a platform beyond the southern entrance,formed by a natural elevation of the ground, were pitched fivemagnificent pavilions,
adorned with pennons of russet and black,the chosen colours of the five knights challengers. the cords of the tentswere of the same colour. before each pavilion was suspended the shieldof 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 fantasticdress, according to the taste of his master, and the characterhe was pleased to assume during the game. [16] the central pavilion, as the place of honour,had been assigned to brian be bois-guilbert, whose renown in all gamesof chivalry, no less than
his connexions with the knights who had undertakenthis passage of arms, had occasioned him to be eagerly receivedinto the company of the challengers, and even adopted as their chiefand leader, though he had so recently joined them. on one side of histent were pitched those of reginald front-de-boeuf and richard de malvoisin,and on the other was the pavilion of hugh de grantmesnil, a noblebaron in the vicinity, whose ancestor had been lord high stewardof england in the time of the conqueror, and his son william rufus. ralphde vipont, a knight of st john of jerusalem, who had some ancient possessionsat a place called
heather, near ashby-de-la-zouche, occupiedthe fifth pavilion. from the entrance into the lists, a gently slopingpassage, ten yards in breadth, led up to the platform on which the tentswere pitched. it was strongly secured by a palisade on each side, as wasthe esplanade in front of the pavilions, and the whole was guarded by men-at-arms. the northern access to the lists terminatedin a similar entrance of thirty feet in breadth, at the extremity ofwhich was a large enclosed space for such knights as might be disposedto enter the lists with the challengers, behind which were placed tentscontaining refreshments of
every kind for their accommodation, with armourers,tarriers, and other attendants, in readiness to give their serviceswherever they might be necessary. the exterior of the lists was in part occupiedby temporary galleries, spread with tapestry and carpets, and accommodatedwith cushions for the convenience of those ladies and nobles whowere expected to attend the tournament. a narrow space, betwixt thesegalleries and the lists, gave accommodation for yeomanry and spectatorsof a better degree than the mere vulgar, and might be compared tothe pit of a theatre. the
promiscuous multitude arranged themselvesupon large banks of turf prepared for the purpose, which, aided bythe natural elevation of the ground, enabled them to overlook the galleries,and obtain a fair view into the lists. besides the accommodationwhich these stations afforded, many hundreds had perched themselves on thebranches of the trees which surrounded the meadow; and even the steepleof a country church, at some distance, was crowded with spectators. it only remains to notice respecting the generalarrangement, that one gallery in the very centre of the easternside of the lists, and
consequently exactly opposite to the spotwhere the shock of the combat was to take place, was raised higher thanthe others, more richly decorated, and graced by a sort of throneand canopy, on which the royal arms were emblazoned. squires, pages,and yeomen in rich liveries, waited around this place of honour, whichwas designed for prince john and his attendants. opposite to this royalgallery was another, elevated to the same height, on the western side ofthe lists; and more gaily, if less sumptuously decorated, than that destinedfor the prince himself. a train of pages and of young maidens, themost beautiful who could be
selected, gaily dressed in fancy habits ofgreen and pink, surrounded a throne decorated in the same colours. amongpennons and flags bearing wounded hearts, burning hearts, bleeding hearts,bows and quivers, and all the commonplace emblems of the triumphsof cupid, a blazoned inscription informed the spectators, thatthis seat of honour was designed for "la royne de las beaulte et desamours". but who was to represent the queen of beauty and of loveon the present occasion no one was prepared to guess. meanwhile, spectators of every descriptionthronged forward to occupy
their respective stations, and not withoutmany quarrels concerning those which they were entitled to hold. someof these were settled by the men-at-arms with brief ceremony; the shaftsof their battle-axes, and pummels of their swords, being readilyemployed as arguments to convince the more refractory. others, whichinvolved the rival claims of more elevated persons, were determinedby the heralds, or by the two marshals of the field, william de wyvil, andstephen de martival, who, armed at all points, rode up and down thelists to enforce and preserve good order among the spectators.
gradually the galleries became filled withknights and nobles, in their robes of peace, whose long and rich-tintedmantles were contrasted with the gayer and more splendid habits of theladies, who, in a greater proportion than even the men themselves, throngedto witness a sport, which one would have thought too bloody anddangerous to afford their sex much pleasure. the lower and interiorspace was soon filled by substantial yeomen and burghers, and suchof the lesser gentry, as, from modesty, poverty, or dubious title, durstnot assume any higher place. it was of course amongst these that the mostfrequent disputes for
precedence occurred. "dog of an unbeliever," said an old man, whosethreadbare tunic bore witness to his poverty, as his sword, anddagger, and golden chain intimated his pretensions to rank,—"whelpof a she-wolf! darest thou press upon a christian, and a normangentleman of the blood of montdidier?" this rough expostulation was addressed tono other than our acquaintance isaac, who, richly and even magnificentlydressed in a gaberdine ornamented with lace and lined with fur, wasendeavouring to make place
in the foremost row beneath the gallery forhis daughter, the beautiful rebecca, who had joined him at ashby, andwho was now hanging on her father's arm, not a little terrified by thepopular displeasure which seemed generally excited by her parent's presumption.but isaac, though we have seen him sufficiently timid on otheroccasions, knew well that at present he had nothing to fear. it wasnot in places of general resort, or where their equals were assembled,that any avaricious or malevolent noble durst offer him injury. atsuch meetings the jews were under the protection of the general law;and if that proved a
weak assurance, it usually happened that therewere among the persons assembled some barons, who, for their owninterested motives, were ready to act as their protectors. on the presentoccasion, isaac felt more than usually confident, being aware that princejohn was even then in the very act of negotiating a large loan fromthe jews of york, to be secured upon certain jewels and lands.isaac's own share in this transaction was considerable, and he wellknew that the prince's eager desire to bring it to a conclusion would ensurehim his protection in the dilemma in which he stood.
emboldened by these considerations, the jewpursued his point, and jostled the norman christian, without respecteither to his descent, quality, or religion. the complaints of theold man, however, excited the indignation of the bystanders. one ofthese, a stout well-set yeoman, arrayed in lincoln green, having twelvearrows 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 whilehis countenance, which his constant exposure to weather had renderedbrown as a hazel nut, grew darker with anger, he advised the jew to rememberthat all the wealth
he had acquired by sucking the blood of hismiserable victims had but swelled him like a bloated spider, which mightbe overlooked while he kept in a comer, but would be crushed if itventured into the light. this intimation, delivered in norman-englishwith a firm voice and a stern aspect, made the jew shrink back;and he would have probably withdrawn himself altogether from a vicinityso dangerous, had not the attention of every one been called to thesudden entrance of prince john, who at that moment entered the lists,attended by a numerous and gay train, consisting partly of laymen, partlyof churchmen, as light in
their dress, and as gay in their demeanour,as their companions. among the latter was the prior of jorvaulx, in themost gallant trim which a dignitary of the church could venture to exhibit.fur and gold were not spared in his garments; and the points ofhis boots, out-heroding the preposterous fashion of the time, turnedup so very far, as to be attached, not to his knees merely, butto his very girdle, and effectually prevented him from putting hisfoot into the stirrup. this, however, was a slight inconvenience to thegallant abbot, who, perhaps, even rejoicing in the opportunityto display his accomplished
horsemanship before so many spectators, especiallyof the fair sex, dispensed with the use of these supports toa timid rider. the rest of prince john's retinue consisted of thefavourite leaders of his mercenary troops, some marauding barons andprofligate attendants upon the court, with several knights templars andknights of st john. it may be here remarked, that the knightsof these two orders were accounted hostile to king richard, havingadopted the side of philip of france in the long train of disputes whichtook place in palestine betwixt that monarch and the lion-heartedking of england. it was the
well-known consequence of this discord thatrichard's repeated victories had been rendered fruitless, his romanticattempts to besiege jerusalem disappointed, and the fruit of all the glorywhich he had acquired had dwindled into an uncertain truce with thesultan saladin. with the same policy which had dictated the conduct of theirbrethren in the holy land, the templars and hospitallers in englandand normandy attached themselves to the faction of prince john,having little reason to desire the return of richard to england, or the successionof arthur, his legitimate heir. for the opposite reason,prince john hated and
contemned the few saxon families of consequencewhich subsisted in england, and omitted no opportunity of mortifyingand affronting them; being conscious that his person and pretensionswere disliked by them, as well as by the greater part of the englishcommons, who feared farther innovation upon their rights and liberties,from a sovereign of john's licentious and tyrannical disposition. attended by this gallant equipage, himselfwell mounted, and splendidly dressed in crimson and in gold, bearing uponhis hand a falcon, and having his head covered by a rich fur bonnet,adorned with a circle of
precious stones, from which his long curledhair escaped and overspread his shoulders, prince john, upon a grey andhigh-mettled palfrey, caracoled within the lists at the head ofhis jovial party, laughing loud with his train, and eyeing with all theboldness of royal criticism the beauties who adorned the lofty galleries. those who remarked in the physiognomy of theprince a dissolute audacity, mingled with extreme haughtinessand indifference to the feelings of others could not yet deny to hiscountenance that sort of comeliness which belongs to an open set offeatures, well formed by
nature, modelled by art to the usual rulesof courtesy, yet so far frank and honest, that they seemed as if theydisclaimed to conceal the natural workings of the soul. such an expressionis often mistaken for manly frankness, when in truth it arises fromthe reckless indifference of a libertine disposition, conscious of superiorityof birth, of wealth, or of some other adventitious advantage,totally unconnected with personal merit. to those who did notthink so deeply, and they were the greater number by a hundred to one, thesplendour of prince john's "rheno", (i.e. fur tippet,) the richness ofhis cloak, lined with the
most costly sables, his maroquin boots andgolden spurs, together with the grace with which he managed his palfrey,were sufficient to merit clamorous applause. in his joyous caracole round the lists, theattention of the prince was called by the commotion, not yet subsided,which had attended the ambitious movement of isaac towards the higherplaces of the assembly. the quick eye of prince john instantly recognisedthe jew, but was much more agreeably attracted by the beautifuldaughter of zion, who, terrified by the tumult, clung close to thearm of her aged father.
the figure of rebecca might indeed have comparedwith the proudest beauties of england, even though it had beenjudged by as shrewd a connoisseur as prince john. her form was exquisitelysymmetrical, and was shown to advantage by a sort of easterndress, which she wore according to the fashion of the females ofher nation. her turban of yellow silk suited well with the darknessof her complexion. the brilliancy of her eyes, the superb arch ofher eyebrows, her well-formed aquiline nose, her teeth as white as pearl,and the profusion of her sable tresses, which, each arranged in itsown little spiral of twisted
curls, fell down upon as much of a lovelyneck and bosom as a simarre of the richest persian silk, exhibiting flowersin their natural colours embossed upon a purple ground, permitted tobe visible—all these constituted a combination of loveliness, whichyielded not to the most beautiful of the maidens who surrounded her.it is true, that of the golden and pearl-studded clasps, which closedher vest from the throat to the waist, the three uppermost were leftunfastened on account of the heat, which something enlarged the prospectto which we allude. a diamond necklace, with pendants of inestimablevalue, were by this means
also made more conspicuous. the feather ofan ostrich, fastened in her turban by an agraffe set with brilliants,was another distinction of the beautiful jewess, scoffed and sneeredat by the proud dames who sat above her, but secretly envied by those whoaffected to deride them. "by the bald scalp of abraham," said princejohn, "yonder jewess must be the very model of that perfection, whose charmsdrove frantic the wisest king that ever lived! what sayest thou, prioraymer?—by the temple of that wise king, which our wiser brotherrichard proved unable to recover, she is the very bride of the canticles!"
"the rose of sharon and the lily of the valley,"—answeredthe prior, in a sort of snuffling tone; "but your gracemust remember she is still but a jewess." "ay!" added prince john, without heeding him,"and there is my mammon of unrighteousness too—the marquis of marks,the baron of byzants, contesting for place with penniless dogs,whose threadbare cloaks have not a single cross in their pouches to keepthe devil from dancing there. by the body of st mark, my prince ofsupplies, with his lovely jewess, shall have a place in the gallery!—whatis she, isaac? thy wife
or thy daughter, that eastern houri that thoulockest under thy arm as thou wouldst thy treasure-casket?" "my daughter rebecca, so please your grace,"answered isaac, with a low congee, nothing embarrassed by the prince'ssalutation, in which, however, there was at least as much mockeryas courtesy. "the wiser man thou," said john, with a pealof laughter, in which his gay followers obsequiously joined. "but, daughteror wife, she should be preferred according to her beauty and thymerits.—who sits above there?" he continued, bending his eye on thegallery. "saxon churls,
lolling at their lazy length!—out upon them!—letthem sit close, and make room for my prince of usurers and hislovely daughter. i'll make the hinds know they must share the high placesof the synagogue with those whom the synagogue properly belongsto." those who occupied the gallery to whom thisinjurious and unpolite speech was addressed, were the family of cedricthe saxon, with that of his ally and kinsman, athelstane of coningsburgh,a personage, who, on account of his descent from the last saxonmonarchs of england, was held in the highest respect by all the saxon nativesof the north of england.
but with the blood of this ancient royal race,many of their infirmities had descended to athelstane. he was comelyin countenance, bulky and strong in person, and in the flower ofhis age—yet inanimate in expression, dull-eyed, heavy-browed, inactiveand sluggish in all his motions, and so slow in resolution, that thesoubriquet of one of his ancestors was conferred upon him, and he wasvery generally called athelstane the unready. his friends, and hehad many, who, as well as cedric, were passionately attached to him,contended that this sluggish temper arose not from want of courage, butfrom mere want of decision;
others alleged that his hereditary vice ofdrunkenness had obscured his faculties, never of a very acute order, andthat the passive courage and meek good-nature which remained behind,were merely the dregs of a character that might have been deserving ofpraise, but of which all the valuable parts had flown off in the progressof a long course of brutal debauchery. it was to this person, such as we have describedhim, that the prince addressed his imperious command to make placefor isaac and rebecca. athelstane, utterly confounded at an orderwhich the manners and
feelings of the times rendered so injuriouslyinsulting, unwilling to obey, yet undetermined how to resist, opposedonly the "vis inertiae" to the will of john; and, without stirring ormaking any motion whatever of obedience, opened his large grey eyes, andstared at the prince with an astonishment which had in it somethingextremely ludicrous. but the impatient john regarded it in no such light. "the saxon porker," he said, "is either asleepor minds me not—prick him with your lance, de bracy," speaking toa knight who rode near him, the leader of a band of free companions, orcondottieri; that is, of
mercenaries belonging to no particular nation,but attached for the time to any prince by whom they were paid. therewas a murmur even among the attendants of prince john; but de bracy, whoseprofession freed him from all scruples, extended his long lance overthe space which separated the gallery from the lists, and would haveexecuted the commands of the prince before athelstane the unready hadrecovered presence of mind sufficient even to draw back his person fromthe 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. theblood rushed into the countenance of prince john. he swore one ofhis deepest oaths, and was about to utter some threat correspondingin violence, when he was diverted from his purpose, partly by his ownattendants, who gathered around him conjuring him to be patient, partlyby a general exclamation of the crowd, uttered in loud applause ofthe spirited conduct of cedric. the prince rolled his eyes in indignation,as if to collect some safe and easy victim; and chancing to encounterthe firm glance of the same archer whom we have already noticed,and who seemed to persist
in his gesture of applause, in spite of thefrowning aspect which the prince bent upon him, he demanded his reasonfor 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 thoucanst 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 relative, at once incensed and alarmed prince john. he satisfiedhimself, however, with commanding the men-at-arms, who surroundedthe lists, to keep an eye on the braggart, pointing to the yeoman. "by st grizzel," he added, "we will try hisown 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," saidthe 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!—itis not fit for such as we to sit with the rulers of the land," saidthe jew; whose ambition for precedence though it had led him to disputeplace with the extenuated and impoverished descendant of the line ofmontdidier, by no means stimulated him to an intrusion upon the privilegesof the wealthy saxons.
"up, infidel dog when i command you," saidprince john, "or i will have thy swarthy hide stript off, and tanned forhorse-furniture." thus urged, the jew began to ascend the steepand narrow steps which led up to the gallery. "let me see," said the prince, "who dare stophim," fixing his eye on cedric, whose attitude intimated his intentionto hurl the jew down headlong. the catastrophe was prevented by the clownwamba, who, springing betwixt his master and isaac, and exclaiming,in answer to the prince's
defiance, "marry, that will i!" opposed tothe beard of the jew a shield of brawn, which he plucked from beneath hiscloak, and with which, doubtless, he had furnished himself, lestthe tournament should have proved longer than his appetite could endureabstinence. finding the abomination of his tribe opposed to his verynose, while the jester, at the same time, flourished his wooden swordabove his head, the jew recoiled, missed his footing, and rolled downthe steps,—an excellent jest to the spectators, who set up a loudlaughter, in which prince john and his attendants heartily joined.
"deal me the prize, cousin prince," said wamba;"i have vanquished my foe in fair fight with sword and shield,"he added, brandishing the brawn in one hand and the wooden sword inthe other. "who, and what art thou, noble champion?"said prince john, still laughing. "a fool by right of descent," answered thejester; "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 lowerring," said prince john,
not unwilling perhaps to, seize an apologyto desist from his original purpose; "to place the vanquished beside thevictor were false heraldry." "knave upon fool were worse," answered thejester, "and jew upon bacon worst of all." "gramercy! good fellow," cried prince john,"thou pleasest me—here, isaac, lend me a handful of byzants." as the jew, stunned by the request, afraidto refuse, and unwilling to comply, fumbled in the furred bag whichhung by his girdle, and
was perhaps endeavouring to ascertain howfew coins might pass for a handful, the prince stooped from his jennetand 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 derisionof those around him, and himself receiving as much applause fromthe spectators as if he had done some honest and honourable action. end of chapter vii�