Ivanhoe, by Sir Walter Scott

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Waldemar, whose curiosity had led him towards
the place where Ivanhoe had fallen to the ground,
now returned. ``The gallant,'' said he, ``is likely
to give your Highness little disturbance, and to
leave Front-de-Buf in the quiet possession of his
gains--he is severely wounded.''

``Whatever becomes of him,'' said Prince John,
``he is victor of the day; and were he tenfold our
enemy, or the devoted friend of our brother, which
is perhaps the same, his wounds must be looked to
---our own physician shall attend him.''

A stern smile curled the Prince's lip as he spoke.
Waldemar Fitzurse hastened to reply, that Ivanhoe
was already removed from the lists, and in the custody
of his friends.

``I was somewhat afflicted,'' he said, ``to see the
grief of the Queen of Love and Beauty, whose sovereignty
of a day this event has changed into mourning.
I am not a man to be moved by a woman's
lament for her lover, but this same Lady Rowena
suppressed her sorrow with such dignity of manner,
that it could only be discovered by her folded hands,
and her tearless eye, which trembled as it remained
fixed on the lifeless form before her.''

``Who is this Lady Rowena,'' said Prince John,
``of whom we have heard so much?''

``A Saxon heiress of large possessions,'' replied
the Prior Aymer; ``a rose of loveliness, and a
jewel of wealth; the fairest among a thousand, a
bundle of myrrh, and a cluster of camphire.''

``We shall cheer her sorrows,'' said Prince John,
``and amend her blood, by wedding her to a Norman.
She seems a minor, and must therefore be
at our royal disposal in marriage.---How sayst thou,
De Bracy? What thinkst thou of gaining fair
lands and livings, by wedding a Saxon, after the
fashion of the followers of the Conqueror?''

``If the lands are to my liking, my lord,'' answered
De Bracy, ``it will be hard to displease me with a
bride; and deeply will I hold myself bound to your
highness for a good deed, which will fulfil all promises
made in favour of your servant and vassal.''

``We will not forget it,'' said Prince John;
``and that we may instantly go to work, command
our seneschal presently to order the attendance of
the Lady Rowena and her company---that is, the
rude churl her guardian, and the Saxon ox whom
the Black Knight struck down in the tournament,
upon this evening's banquet.---De Bigot,'' he added
to his seneschal, ``thou wilt word this our second
summons so courteously, as to gratify the pride of
these Saxons, and make it impossible for them again
to refuse; although, by the bones of Becket, courtesy
to them is casting pearls before swine.''

Prince John had proceeded thus far, and was
about to give the signal for retiring from the lists,
when a small billet was put into his hand.

``From whence?'' said Prince John, looking at
the person by whom it was delivered.

``From foreign parts, my lord, but from whence
I know not'' replied his attendant. ``A Frenchman
brought it hither, who said, he had ridden
night and day to put it into the hands of your highness.''

The Prince looked narrowly at the superscription,
and then at the seal, placed so as to secure the
flex-silk with which the billet was surrounded, and
which bore the impression of three fleurs-de-lis.
John then opened the billet with apparent agitation,
which visibly and greatly increased when he
had perused the contents, which were expressed in
these words---

``_Take heed to yourself for the Devil is unchained!_''

The Prince turned as pale as death, looked first
on the earth, and then up to heaven, like a man
who has received news that sentence of execution
has been passed upon him. Recovering from the
first effects of his surprise, he took Waldemar Fitzurse
and De Bracy aside, and put the billet into
their hands successively. ``It means,'' he added,
in a faltering voice, ``that my brother Richard has
obtained his freedom.''

``This may be a false alarm, or a forged letter,''
said De Bracy.

``It is France's own hand and seal,'' replied
Prince John.

``It is time, then,'' said Fitzurse, ``to draw our
party to a head, either at York, or some other centrical
place. A few days later, and it will be indeed
too late. Your highness must break short
this present mummery.''

``The yeomen and commons,'' said De Bracy,
``must not be dismissed discontented, for lack of
their share in the sports.''

``The day,'' said Waldemar, ``is not yet very far
spent---let the archer's shoot a few rounds at the
target, and the prize be adjudged. This will be an
abundant fulfilment of the Prince's promises, so far
as this herd of Saxon serfs is concerned.''

``I thank thee, Waldemar,'' said the Prince;
``thou remindest me, too, that I have a debt to pay
to that insolent peasant who yesterday insulted our
person. Our banquet also shall go forward to-night
as we proposed. Were this my last hour of power,
it should be an hour sacred to revenge and to pleasure---
let new cares come with to-morrow's new
day.''

The sound of the trumpets soon recalled those
spectators who had already begun to leave the field;
and proclamation was made that Prince John, suddenly
called by high and peremptory public duties,
held himself obliged to discontinue the entertainments
of to-morrow's festival: Nevertheless, that,
unwilling so many good yeoman should depart
without a trial of skill, he was pleased to appoint
them, before leaving the ground, presently to execute
the competition of archery intended for the
morrow. To the best archer a prize was to be
awarded, being a bugle-horn, mounted with silver,
and a silken baldric richly ornamented with a medallion
of St Hubert, the patron of silvan sport.

More than thirty yeomen at first presented themselves
as competitors, several of whom were rangers
and under-keepers in the royal forests of Needwood
and Charnwood. When, however, the archers understood
with whom they were to be matched, up
wards of twenty withdrew themselves from the contest,
unwilling to encounter the dishonour of almost
certain defeat. For in those days the skill of each
celebrated marksman was as well known for many
miles round him, as the qualities of a horse trained
at Newmarket are familiar to those who frequent
that well-known meeting.

The diminished list of competitors for silvan
fame still amounted to eight. Prince John stepped
from his royal seat to view more nearly the persons
of these chosen yeomen, several of whom wore the
royal livery. Having satisfied his curiosity by this
investigation, he looked for the object of his resentment,
whom he observed standing on the same
spot, and with the same composed countenance
which he had exhibited upon the preceding day.

``Fellow,'' said Prince John, ``I guessed by thy
insolent babble that thou wert no true lover of the longbow,
and I see thou darest not adventure thy skill
among such merry-men as stand yonder.''

``Under favour, sir,'' replied the yeoman, ``I
have another reason for refraining to shoot, besides
the fearing discomfiture and disgrace.''

``And what is thy other reason?'' said Prince
John, who, for some cause which perhaps he could
not himself have explained, felt a painful curiosity
respecting this individual.

``Because,'' replied the woodsman, ``I know not
if these yeomen and I are used to shoot at the same
marks; and because, moreover, I know not how
your Grace might relish the winning of a third prize
by one who has unwittingly fallen under your displeasure.''

Prince John coloured as he put the question,
``What is thy name, yeoman?''

``Locksley,'' answered the yeoman.

``Then, Locksley,'' said Prince John, ``thou
shalt shoot in thy turn, when these yeomen have
displayed their skill. If thou carriest the prize, I
will add to it twenty nobles; but if thou losest it,
thou shalt be stript of thy Lincoln green, and
scourged out of the lists with bowstrings, for a
wordy and insolent braggart.''

``And how if I refuse to shoot on such a wager?''
said the yeoman.---``Your Grace's power, supported,
as it is, by so many men-at-arms, may indeed easily
strip and scourge me, but cannot compel me to
bend or to draw my bow.''

``If thou refusest my fair proffer,'' said the
Prince, ``the Provost of the lists shall cut thy bowstring,
break thy bow and arrows, and expel thee
from the presence as a faint-hearted craven.''

``This is no fair chance you put on me, proud
Prince,'' said the yeoman, ``to compel me to peril
myself against the best archers of Leicester And
Staffordshire, under the penalty of infamy if they
should overshoot me. Nevertheless, I will obey
your pleasure.''

``Look to him close, men-at-arms,'' said Prince
John, ``his heart is sinking; I am jealous lest he
attempt to escape the trial.---And do you, good
fellows, shoot boldly round; a buck and a butt of
wine are ready for your refreshment in yonder tent,
when the prize is won.''

A target was placed at the upper end of the
southern avenue which led to the lists. The contending
archers took their station in turn, at the
bottom of the southern access, the distance between
that station and the mark allowing full distance for
what was called a shot at rovers. The archers,
having previously determined by lot their order of
precedence, were to shoot each three shafts in succession.
The sports were regulated by an officer of
inferior rank, termed the Provost of the Games;
for the high rank of the marshals of the lists would
have been held degraded, had they condescended
to superintend the sports of the yeomanry.

One by one the archers, stepping forward, delivered
their shafts yeomanlike and bravely. Of
twenty-four arrows, shot in succession, ten were
fixed in the target, and the others ranged so near
it, that, considering the distance of the mark, it was
accounted good archery. Of the ten shafts which
hit the target, two within the inner ring were shot
by Hubert, a forester in the service of Malvoisin,
who was accordingly pronounced victorious.

``Now, Locksley,'' said Prince John to the bold
yeoman, with a bitter smile, ``wilt thou try conclusions
with Hubert, or wilt thou yield up bow,
baldric, and quiver, to the Provost of the sports?''

``Sith it be no better,'' said Locksley, ``I am content
to try my fortune; on condition that when I
have shot two shafts at yonder mark of Hubert's,
he shall be bound to shoot one at that which I shall
propose.''

``That is but fair,'' answered Prince John, ``and
it shall not be refused thee.---If thou dost beat this
braggart, Hubert, I will fill the bugle with silver-pennies
for thee.''

``A man can do but his best,'' answered Hubert;
``but my grandsire drew a good long bow at Hastings,
and I trust not to dishonour his memory.''

The former target was now removed, and a fresh
one of the same size placed in its room. Hubert,
who, as victor in the first trial of skill, had the
right to shoot first, took his aim with great deliberation,
long measuring the distance with his eye,
while he held in his hand his bended bow, with the
arrow placed on the string. At length he made a
step forward, and raising the bow at the full stretch
of his left arm, till the centre or grasping-place was
nigh level with his face, he drew his bowstring to
his ear. The arrow whistled through the air, and
lighted within the inner ring of the target, but not
exactly in the centre.

``You have not allowed for the wind, Hubert,''
said his antagonist, bending his bow, ``or that had
been a better shot.''

So saying, and without showing the least anxiety
to pause upon his aim, Locksley stept to the appointed
station, and shot his arrow as carelessly in
appearance as if he had not even looked at the mark.
He was speaking almost at the instant that the shaft
left the bowstring, yet it alighted in the target two
inches nearer to the white spot which marked the
centre than that of Hubert.

``By the light of heaven!'' said Prince John to
Hubert, ``an thou suffer that runagate knave to
overcome thee, thou art worthy of the gallows!''

Hubert had but one set speech for all occasions.
``An your highness were to hang me,'' he said, `` a
man can but do his best. Nevertheless, my grandsire
drew a good bow---''

``The foul fiend on thy grandsire and all his generation!''
interrupted John , ``shoot, knave, and
shoot thy best, or it shall be the worse for thee!''

Thus exhorted, Hubert resumed his place, and
not neglecting the caution which he had received
from his adversary, he made the necessary allowance
for a very light air of wind, which had just
arisen, and shot so successfully that his arrow alighted
in the very centre of the target.

``A Hubert! a Hubert!'' shouted the populace,
more interested in a known person than in a stranger.
``In the clout!---in the clout!---a Hubert for
ever!''

``Thou canst not mend that shot, Locksley,'' said
the Prince, with an insulting smile.

``I will notch his shaft for him, however,'' replied
Locksley.

And letting fly his arrow with a little more precaution
than before, it lighted right upon that of
his competitor, which it split to shivers. The people
who stood around were so astonished at his wonderful
dexterity, that they could not even give vent
to their surprise in their usual clamour. ``This
must be the devil, and no man of flesh and blood,''
whispered the yeoman to each other; ``such archery
was never seen since a bow was first bent in
Britain.''

``And now,'' said Locksley, ``I will crave your
Grace's permission to plant such a mark as is used
in the North Country; and welcome every brave
yeoman who shall try a shot at it to win a smile
from the bonny lass he loves best.''

He then turned to leave the lists. ``Let your
guards attend me,'' he said, ``if you please---I go
but to cut a rod from the next willow-bush.''

Prince John made a signal that some attendants
should follow him in case of his escape: but the cry
of ``Shame! shame!'' which burst from the multitude,
induced him to alter his ungenerous purpose.

Locksley returned almost instantly with a willow
wand about six feet in length, perfectly straight,
and rather thicker than a man's thumb. He began
to peel this with great composure, observing at the
same time, that to ask a good woodsman to shoot
at a target so broad as had hitherto been used, was
to put shame upon his skill. ``For his own part,''
he said, ``and in the land where he was bred, men
would as soon take for their mark King Arthur's
round-table, which held sixty knights around it. A
child of seven years old,'' he said, `` might hit yonder
target with a headless shaft; but,'' added he,
walking deliberately to the other end of the lists,
and sticking the willow wand upright in the ground,
``he that hits that rod at five-score yards, I call him
an archer fit to bear both bow and quiver before a
king, an it were the stout King Richard himself.''

``My grandsire,'' said Hubert, ``drew a good
bow at the battle of Hastings, and never shot at
such a mark in his life---and neither will I. If this
yeoman can cleave that rod, I give him the bucklers---
or rather, I yield to the devil that is in his
jerkin, and not to any human skill; a man can but
do his best, and I will not shoot where I am sure to
miss. I might as well shoot at the edge of our parson's
whittle, or at a wheat straw, or at a sunbeam,
as at a twinkling white streak which I can hardly
see.''

``Cowardly dog!'' said Prince John.---``Sirrah
Locksley, do thou shoot; but, if thou hittest such
a mark, I will say thou art the first man ever did
so. However it be, thou shalt not crow over us with
a mere show of superior skill.''

``I will do my best, as Hubert says,'' answered
Locksley; ``no man can do more.''

So saying, he again bent his bow, but on the present
occasion looked with attention to his weapon,
and changed the string, which he thought was no
longer truly round, having been a little frayed by
the two former shots. He then took his aim with
some deliberation, and the multitude awaited the
event in breathless silence. The archer vindicated
their opinion of his skill: his arrow split the willow
rod against which it was aimed. A jubilee of
acclamations followed; and even Prince John, in
admiration of Locksley's skill, lost for an instant
his dislike to his person. ``These twenty nobles,''
he said, ``which, with the bugle, thou hast fairly
won, are thine own; we will make them fifty, if
thou wilt take livery and service with us as a yeoman
of our body guard, and be near to our person.
For never did so strong a hand bend a bow, or so
true an eye direct a shaft.''

``Pardon me, noble Prince,'' said Locksley; ``but
I have vowed, that if ever I take service, it should
be with your royal brother King Richard. These
twenty nobles I leave to Hubert, who has this day
drawn as brave a bow as his grandsire did at Hastings.
Had his modesty not refused the trial, he
would have hit the wand as well I.''

Hubert shook his head as he received with reluctance
the bounty of the stranger, and Locksley,
anxious to escape further observation, mixed with
the crowd, and was seen no more.

The victorious archer would not perhaps have
escaped John's attention so easily, had not that
Prince had other subjects of anxious and more important
meditation pressing upon his mind at that
instant. He called upon his chamberlain as he gave
the signal for retiring from the lists, and commanded
him instantly to gallop to Ashby, and seek out
Isaac the Jew. ``Tell the dog,'' he said, ``to send
me, before sun-down, two thousand crowns. He
knows the security; but thou mayst show him this
ring for a token. The rest of the money must be
paid at York within six days. If he neglects, I
will have the unbelieving villain's head. Look that
thou pass him not on the way; for the circumcised
slave was displaying his stolen finery amongst us.''

So saying, the Prince resumed his horse, and returned
to Ashby, the whole crowd breaking up and
dispersing upon his retreat.

CHAPTER XIV

In rough magnificence array'd,
When ancient Chivalry display'd
The pomp of her heroic games,
And crested chiefs and tissued dames
Assembled, at the clarion's call,
In some proud castle's high arch'd hall.

Warton.

Prince John held his high festival in the Castle
of Ashby. This was not the same building of which
the stately ruins still interest the traveller, and
which was erected at a later period by the Lord
Hastings, High Chamberlain of England, one of
the first victims of the tyranny of Richard the Third,
and yet better known as one of Shakspeare's characters
than by his historical fame. The castle and
town of Ashby, at this time, belonged to Roger de
Quincy, Earl of Winchester, who, during the period
of our history, was absent in the Holy Land.
Prince John, in the meanwhile, occupied his castle,
and disposed of his domains without scruple; and
seeking at present to dazzle men's eyes by his hospitality
and magnificence, had given orders for great
preparations, in order to render the banquet as
splendid as possible.

The purveyors of the Prince, who exercised on
this and other occasions the full authority of royalty,
had swept the country of all that could be collected
which was esteemed fit for their master's
table. Guests also were invited in great numbers;
and in the necessity in which he then found
himself of courting popularity, Prince John had
extended his invitation to a few distinguished Saxon
and Danish families, as well as to the Norman nobility
and gentry of the neighbourhood. However
despised and degraded on ordinary occasions, the
great numbers of the Anglo-Saxons must necessarily
render them formidable in the civil commotions
which seemed approaching, and it was an obvious
point of policy to secure popularity with their
leaders.

It was accordingly the Prince's intention, which
he for some time maintained, to treat these unwonted
guests with a courtesy to which they had been
little accustomed. But although no man with less
scruple made his ordinary habits and feelings bend
to his interest, it was the misfortune of this Prince,
that his levity and petulance were perpetually breaking
out, and undoing all that had been gained by
his previous dissimulation.

Of this fickle temper he gave a memorable example
in Ireland, when sent thither by his father,
Henry the Second, with the purpose of buying
golden opinions of the inhabitants of that new and
important acquisition to the English crown. Upon
this occasion the Irish chieftains contended which
should first offer to the young Prince their loyal
homage and the kiss of peace. But, instead of receiving
their salutations with courtesy, John and
his petulant attendants could not resist the temptation
of pulling the long beards of the Irish chieftains;
a conduct which, as might have been expected,
was highly resented by these insulted dignitaries,
and produced fatal consequences to the English
domination in Ireland. It is necessary to keep
these inconsistencies of John's character in view,
that the reader may understand his conduct during
the present evening.

In execution of the resolution which he had formed
during his cooler moments, Prince John received
Cedric and Athelstane with distinguished courtesy,
and expressed his disappointment, without
resentment, when the indisposition of Rowena was
alleged by the former as a reason for her not attending
upon his gracious summons. Cedric and
Athelstane were both dressed in the ancient Saxon
garb, which, although not unhandsome in itself,
and in the present instance composed of costly materials,
was so remote in shape and appearance from
that of the other guests, that Prince John took
great credit to himself with Waldemar Fitzurse
for refraining from laughter at a sight which the
fashion of the day rendered ridiculous. Yet, in the
eye of sober judgment, the short close tunic and
long mantle of the Saxons was a more graceful, as
well as a more convenient dress, than the garb of
the Normans, whose under garment was a long
doublet, so loose as to resemble a shirt or waggoner's
frock, covered by a cloak of scanty dimensions,
neither fit to defend the wearer from cold or from
rain, and the only purpose of which appeared to be
to display as much fur, embroidery, and jewellery
work, as the ingenuity of the tailor could contrive
to lay upon it. The Emperor Charlemagne, in
whose reign they were first introduced, seems to
have been very sensible of the inconveniences arising
from the fashion of this garment. ``In Heaven's
name,'' said he, ``to what purpose serve these
abridged cloaks? If we are in bed they are no
cover, on horseback they are no protection from
the wind and rain, and when seated, they do not
guard our legs from the damp or the frost.''

Nevertheless, spite of this imperial objurgation,
the short cloaks continued in fashion down to the
time of which we treat, and particularly among the
princes of the House of Anjou. They were therefore
in universal use among Prince John's courtiers;
and the long mantle, which formed the upper
garment of the Saxons, was held in proportional
derision.

The guests were seated at a table which groaned
under the quantity of good cheer. The numerous
cooks who attended on the Prince's progress, having
exerted all their art in varying the forms in
which the ordinary provisions were served up, had
succeeded almost as well as the modern professors
of the culinary art in rendering them perfectly unlike
their natural appearance. Besides these dishes
of domestic origin, there were various delicacies
brought from foreign parts, and a quantity of rich
pastry, as well as of the simnel-bread and wastle
cakes, which were only used at the tables of the
highest nobility. The banquet was crowned with
the richest wines, both foreign and domestic.

But, though luxurious, the Norman nobles were
not generally speaking an intemperate race. While
indulging themselves in the pleasures of the table,
they aimed at delicacy, but avoided excess, and were
apt to attribute gluttony and drunkenness to the
vanquished Saxons, as vices peculiar to their inferior
station. Prince John, indeed, and those who
courted his pleasure by imitating his foibles, were
apt to indulge to excess in the pleasures of the
trencher and the goblet; and indeed it is well
known that his death was occasioned by a surfeit
upon peaches and new ale. His conduct, however,
was an exception to the general manners of his
countrymen.

With sly gravity, interrupted only by private
signs to each other, the Norman knights and nobles
beheld the ruder demeanour of Athelstane and
Cedric at a banquet, to the form and fashion of
which they were unaccustomed. And while their
manners were thus the subject of sarcastic observation,
the untaught Saxons unwittingly transgressed
several of the arbitrary rules established for
the regulation of society. Now, it is well known,
that a man may with more impunity be guilty of
an actual breach either of real good breeding or of
good morals, than appear ignorant of the most minute
point of fashionable etiquette. Thus Cedric,
who dried his hands with a towel, instead of suffering
the moisture to exhale by waving them gracefully
in the air, incurred more ridicule than his companion
Athelstane, when he swallowed to his own
single share the whole of a large pasty composed of
the most exquisite foreign delicacies, and termed at
that time a _Karum-Pie_. When, however, it was
discovered, by a serious cross-examination, that the
Thane of Coningsburgh (or Franklin, as the Normans
termed him) had no idea what he had been
devouring, and that he had taken the contents of
the Karum-pie for larks and pigeons, whereas they
were in fact beccaficoes and nightingales, his ignorance
brought him in for an ample share of the ridicule
which would have been more justly bestowed
on his gluttony.