Ivanhoe, by Sir Walter Scott

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The long feast had at length its end; and, while
the goblet circulated freely, men talked of the feats
of the preceding tournament,---of the unknown victor
in the archery games, of the Black Knight,
whose self-denial had induced him to withdraw
from the honours he had won,---and of the gallant
Ivanhoe, who had so dearly bought the honours of
the day. The topics were treated with military
frankness, and the jest and laugh went round the
hall. The brow of Prince John alone was overclouded
during these discussions; some overpowering
care seemed agitating his mind, and it was only
when he received occasional hints from his attendants,
that he seemed to take interest in what
was passing around him. On such occasions he
would start up, quaff a cup of wine as if to raise
his spirits, and then mingle in the conversation by
some observation made abruptly or at random.

``We drink this beaker,'' said he, ``to the health
of Wilfred of Ivanhoe, champion of this Passage
of Arms, and grieve that his wound renders him
absent from our board---Let all fill to the pledge,
and especially Cedric of Rotherwood, the worthy
father of a son so promising.''

``No, my lord,'' replied Cedric, standing up, and
placing on the table his untasted cup, ``I yield not
the name of son to the disobedient youth, who at
once despises my commands, and relinquishes the
manners and customs of his fathers.''

``'Tis impossible,'' cried Prince John, with well-feigned
astonishment, ``that so gallant a knight
should be an unworthy or disobedient son!''

``Yet, my lord,'' answered Cedric, ``so it is with
this Wilfred. He left my homely dwelling to mingle
with the gay nobility of your brother's court,
where he learned to do those tricks of horsemanship
which you prize so highly. He left it contrary
to my wish and command; and in the days of Alfred
that would have been termed disobedience---
ay, and a crime severely punishable.''

``Alas!'' replied Prince John, with a deep sigh
of affected sympathy, ``since your son was a follower
of my unhappy brother, it need not be enquired
where or from whom he learned the lesson
of filial disobedience.''

Thus spake Prince John, wilfully forgetting, that
of all the sons of Henry the Second, though no one
was free from the charge, he himself had been most
distinguished for rebellion and ingratitude to his
father.

``I think,'' said be, after a moment's pause, ``that
my brother proposed to confer upon his favourite
the rich manor of Ivanhoe.''

``He did endow him with it,'' answered Cedric;
``nor is it my least quarrel with my son, that he
stooped to hold, as a feudal vassal, the very domains
which his fathers possessed in free and independent
right.''

``We shall then have your willing sanction, good
Cedric,'' said Prince John, ``to confer this fief upon
a person whose dignity will not be diminished
by holding land of the British crown.---Sir Reginald
Front-de-Buf,'' he said, turning towards that
Baron, ``I trust you will so keep the goodly Barony
of Ivanhoe, that Sir Wilfred shall not incur
his father's farther displeasure by again entering
upon that fief.''

``By St Anthony!'' answered the black-brow'd
giant, ``I will consent that your highness shall hold
me a Saxon, if either Cedric or Wilfred, or the best
that ever bore English blood, shall wrench from me
the gift with which your highness has graced me.''

``Whoever shall call thee Saxon, Sir Baron,'' replied
Cedric, offended at a mode of expression by
which the Normans frequently expressed their habitual
contempt of the English, ``will do thee an
honour as great as it is undeserved.''

Front-de-Buf would have replied, but Prince
John's petulance and levity got the start.

``Assuredly,'' said be, ``my lords, the noble Cedric
speaks truth; and his race may claim precedence
over us as much in the length of their pedigrees
as in the longitude of their cloaks.''

``They go before us indeed in the field---as deer
before dogs,'' said Malvoisin.

``And with good right may they go before us---
forget not,'' said the Prior Aymer, ``the superior
decency and decorum of their manners.''

``Their singular abstemiousness and temperance,''
said De Bracy, forgetting the plan which promised
him a Saxon bride.

``Together with the courage and conduct,'' said
Brian de Bois-Guilbert, ``by which they distinguished
themselves at Hastings and elsewhere.''

While, with smooth and smiling cheek, the courtiers,
each in turn, followed their Prince's example,
and aimed a shaft of ridicule at Cedric, the face of
the Saxon became inflamed with passion, and he
glanced his eyes fiercely from one to another, as if
the quick succession of so many injuries had prevented
his replying to them in turn; or, like a baited
bull, who, surrounded by his tormentors, is at
a loss to choose from among them the immediate
object of his revenge. At length he spoke, in a
voice half choked with passion; and, addressing
himself to Prince John as the head and front of the
offence which he had received, ``Whatever,'' he said,
``have been the follies and vices of our race, a Saxon
would have been held _nidering_,'' * (the most emphatic

* There was nothing accounted so ignominious among the
* Saxons as to merit this disgraceful epithet. Even William the
* Conqueror, hated as he was by them, continued to draw a considerable
* army of Anglo-Saxons to his standard, by threatening
* to stigmatize those who staid at home, as nidering. Bartholinus,
* I think, mentions a similar phrase which had like influence on
* the Danes. L. T.

term for abject worthlessness,) ``who should
in his own hall, and while his own wine-cup passed,
have treated, or suffered to be treated, an unoffending
guest as your highness has this day beheld me
used; and whatever was the misfortune of our fathers
on the field of Hastings, those may at least
be silent,'' here he looked at Front-de-Buf and the
Templar, ``who have within these few hours once
and again lost saddle and stirrup before the lance of
a Saxon.''

``By my faith, a biting jest!'' said Prince John.
``How like you it, sirs?---Our Saxon subjects rise
in spirit and courage; become shrewd in wit, and
bold in bearing, in these unsettled times---What say
ye, my lords?---By this good light, I hold it best to
take our galleys, and return to Normandy in time.''

``For fear of the Saxons?'' said De Bracy, laughing;
``we should need no weapon but our hunting
spears to bring these boars to bay.''

``A truce with your raillery, Sir Knights,'' said
Fitzurse;---``and it were well,'' he added, addressing
the Prince, ``that your highness should assure
the worthy Cedric there is no insult intended him
by jests, which must sound but harshly in the ear
of a stranger.''

``Insult?'' answered Prince John, resuming his
courtesy of demeanour; ``I trust it will not be
thought that I could mean, or permit any, to be offered
in my presence. Here! I fill my cup to Cedric
himself, since he refuses to pledge his son's health.''

The cup went round amid the well-dissembled
applause of the courtiers, which, however, failed to
make the impression on the mind of the Saxon that
had been designed. He was not naturally acute of
perception, but those too much undervalued his understanding
who deemed that this flattering compliment
would obliterate the sense of the prior insult.
He was silent, however, when the royal pledge
again passed round, ``To Sir Athelstane of Coningsburgh.''

The knight made his obeisance, and showed his
sense of the honour by draining a huge goblet in
answer to it.

``And now, sirs,'' said Prince John, who began
to be warmed with the wine which he had drank,
``having done justice to our Saxon guests, we will
pray of them some requital to our courtesy.---Worthy
Thane,'' he continued, addressing Cedric, ``may
we pray you to name to us some Norman whose
mention may least sully your mouth, and to wash
down with a goblet of wine all bitterness which the
sound may leave behind it?''

Fitzurse arose while Prince John spoke, and
gliding behind the seat of the Saxon, whispered to
him not to omit the opportunity of putting an end
to unkindness betwixt the two races, by naming
Prince John. The Saxon replied not to this politic
insinuation, but, rising up, and filling his cup to the
brim, be addressed Prince John in these words:
``Your highness has required that I should name a
Norman deserving to be remembered at our banquet.
This, perchance, is a hard task, since it calls
on the slave to sing the praises of the master---
upon the vanquished, while pressed by all the evils
of conquest, to sing the praises of the conqueror.
Yet I will name a Norman---the first in arms and
in place---the best and the noblest of his race. And
the lips that shall refuse to pledge me to his well-earned
fame, I term false and dishonoured, and will
so maintain them with my life.---I quaff this goblet
to the health of Richard the Lion-hearted!''

Prince John, who had expected that his own
name would have closed the Saxon's speech, started
when that of his injured brother was so unexpectedly
introduced. He raised mechanically the wine-cup
to his lips, then instantly set it down, to view
the demeanour of the company at this unexpected
proposal, which many of them felt it as unsafe to
oppose as to comply with. Some of them, ancient
and experienced courtiers, closely imitated the example
of the Prince himself, raising the goblet to
their lips, and again replacing it before them. There
were many who, with a more generous feeling, exclaimed,
``Long live King Richard! and may he
be speedily restored to us!'' And some few, among
whom were Front-de-Buf and the Templar, in
sullen disdain suffered their goblets to stand untasted
before them. But no man ventured directly
to gainsay a pledge filled to the health of the reigning
monarch.

Having enjoyed his triumph for about a minute,
Cedric said to his companion, ``Up, noble Athelstane!
we have remained here long enough, since
we have requited the hospitable courtesy of Prince
John's banquet. Those who wish to know further
of our rude Saxon manners must henceforth seek
us in the homes of our fathers, since we have seen
enough of royal banquets, and enough of Norman
courtesy.''

So saying, he arose and left the banqueting room,
followed by Athelstane, and by several other guests,
who, partaking of the Saxon lineage, held themselves
insulted by the sarcasms of Prince John and
his courtiers.

``By the bones of St Thomas,'' said Prince John,
as they retreated, ``the Saxon churls have borne
off the best of the day, and have retreated with triumph!''

``_Conclamatum est, poculatum est_,'' said Prior
Aymer; ``we have drunk and we have shouted,---
it were time we left our wine flagons.''

``The monk hath some fair penitent to shrive
to-night, that he is in such a hurry to depart,'' said
De Bracy.

``Not so, Sir Knight,'' replied the Abbot; ``but
I must move several miles forward this evening
upon my homeward journey.''

``They are breaking up,'' said the Prince in a
whisper to Fitzurse; ``their fears anticipate the
event, and this coward Prior is the first to shrink
from me.''

``Fear not, my lord,'' said Waldemar; ``I will
show him such reasons as shall induce him to join
us when we hold our meeting at York.---Sir Prior,''
he said, ``I must speak with you in private, before
you mount your palfrey.''

The other guests were now fast dispersing, with
the exception of those immediately attached to,
Prince John's faction, and his retinue.

``This, then, is the result of your advice,'' said
the Prince, turning an angry countenance upon
Fitzurse; ``that I should be bearded at my own
board by a drunken Saxon churl, and that, on the
mere sound of my brother's name, men should fall
off from me as if I had the leprosy?''

``Have patience, sir,'' replied his counsellor; ``I
might retort your accusation, and blame the inconsiderate
levity which foiled my design, and misled
your own better judgment. But this is no time
for recrimination. De Bracy and I will instantly
go among these shuffling cowards, and convince
them they have gone too far to recede.''

``It will be in vain,'' said Prince John, pacing
the apartment with disordered steps, and expressing
himself with an agitation to which the wine he
had drank partly contributed---``It will be in vain
--they have seen the handwriting on the wall---
they have marked the paw of the lion in the sand
---they have heard his approaching roar shake the
wood---nothing will reanimate their courage.''

``Would to God,'' said Fitzurse to De Bracy,
``that aught could reanimate his own! His brother's
very name is an ague to him. Unhappy are
the counsellors of a Prince, who wants fortitude
and perseverance alike in good and in evil!''

CHAPTER XV

And yet he thinks,---ha, ha, ha, ha,---he thinks
I am the tool and servant of his will.
Well, let it be; through all the maze of trouble
His plots and base oppression must create,
I'll shape myself a way to higher things,
And who will say 'tis wrong?
_Basil, a Tragedy_.

No spider ever took more pains to repair the
shattered meshes of his web, than did Waldemar
Fitzurse to reunite and combine the scattered members
of Prince John's cabal. Few of these were
attached to him from inclination, and none from
personal regard. It was therefore necessary, that
Fitzurse should open to them new prospects of advantage,
and remind them of those which they at
present enjoyed. To the young and wild nobles,
he held out the prospect of unpunished license and
uncontrolled revelry; to the ambitious, that of
power, and to the covetous, that of increased wealth
and extended domains. The leaders of the mercenaries
received a donation in gold; an argument
the most persuasive to their minds, and without
which all others would have proved in vain. Promises
were still more liberally distributed than money
by this active agent; and, in fine, nothing was
left undone that could determine the wavering, or
animate the disheartened. The return of King
Richard he spoke of as an event altogether beyond
the reach of probability; yet, when he observed,
from the doubtful looks and uncertain answers
which he received, that this was the apprehension
by which the minds of his accomplices were most
haunted, he boldly treated that event, should it
really take place, as one which ought not to alter
their political calculations.

``If Richard returns,'' said Fitzurse, ``he returns
to enrich his needy and impoverished crusaders at
the expense of those who did not follow him to the
Holy Land. He returns to call to a fearful reckoning,
those who, during his absence, have done
aught that can be construed offence or encroachment
upon either the laws of the land or the privileges
of the crown. He returns to avenge upon
the Orders of the Temple and the Hospital, the
preference which they showed to Philip of France
during the wars in the Holy Land. He returns,
in fine, to punish as a rebel every adherent of his
brother Prince John. Are ye afraid of his power?''
continued the artful confident of that Prince, ``we
acknowledge him a strong and valiant knight; but
these are not the days of King Arthur, when a
champion could encounter an army. If Richard
indeed comes back, it must be alone,---unfollowed
---unfriended. The bones of his gallant army have
whitened the sands of Palestine. The few of his
followers who have returned have straggled hither
like this Wilfred of Ivanhoe, beggared and broken
men.---And what talk ye of Richard's right of
birth?'' he proceeded, in answer to those who objected
scruples on that head. ``Is Richard's title
of primogeniture more decidedly certain than that
of Duke Robert of Normandy, the Conqueror's
eldest son? And yet William the Red, and Henry,
his second and third brothers, were successively
preferred to him by the voice of the nation, Robert
had every merit which can be pleaded for Richard;
he was a bold knight, a good leader, generous to
his friends and to the church, and, to crown the
whole, a crusader and a conqueror of the Holy Sepulchre;
and yet he died a blind and miserable
prisoner in the Castle of Cardiff, because he opposed
himself to the will of the people, who chose that
he should not rule over them. It is our right,'' he
said, `` to choose from the blood royal the prince
who is best qualified to hold the supreme power---
that is,'' said he, correcting himself, ``him whose
election will best promote the interests of the nobility.
In personal qualifications,'' he added, ``it was
possible that Prince John might be inferior to his
brother Richard; but when it was considered that
the latter returned with the sword of vengeance in
his hand, while the former held out rewards, immunities,
privileges, wealth, and honours, it could
not be doubted which was the king whom in wisdom
the nobility were called on to support.''

These, and many more arguments, some adapted
to the peculiar circumstances of those whom he addressed,
had the expected weight with the nobles
of Prince John's faction. Most of them consented
to attend the proposed meeting at York, for the
purpose of making general arrangements for placing
the crown upon the head of Prince John.

It was late at night, when, worn out and exhausted
with his various exertions, however gratified
with the result, Fitzurse, returning to the
Castle of Ashby, met with De Bracy, who had exchanged
his banqueting garments for a short green
kittle, with hose of the same cloth and colour, a
leathern cap or head-piece, a short sword, a horn
slung over his shoulder, a long bow in his hand,
and a bundle of arrows stuck in his belt. Had
Fitzurse met this figure in an outer apartment, he
would have passed him without notice, as one of
the yeomen of the guard; but finding him in the
inner hall, he looked at him with more attention,
and recognised the Norman knight in the dress of
an English yeoman.

``What mummery is this, De Bracy?'' said Fitzurse,
somewhat angrily; ``is this a time for Christmas
gambols and quaint maskings, when the fate of
our master, Prince John, is on the very verge of decision?
Why hast thou not been, like me, among
these heartless cravens, whom the very name of King
Richard terrifies, as it is said to do the children of
the Saracens?'

``I have been attending to mine own business,''
answered De Bracy calmly, ``as you, Fitzurse, have
been minding yours.''

``I minding mine own business!'' echoed Waldemar;
``I have been engaged in that of Prince
John, our joint patron.''

``As if thou hadst any other reason for that,
Waldemar,'' said De Bracy, ``than the promotion
of thine own individual interest? Come, Fitzurse,
we know each other---ambition is thy pursuit, pleasure
is mine, and they become our different ages.
Of Prince John thou thinkest as I do; that he is
too weak to be a determined monarch, too tyrannical
to be an easy monarch, too insolent and presumptuous
to be a popular monarch, and too fickle
and timid to be long a monarch of any kind. But
he is a monarch by whom Fitzurse and De Bracy
hope to rise and thrive; and therefore you aid him
with your policy, and I with the lances of my Free
Companions.''

``A hopeful auxiliary,'' said Fitzurse impatiently;
``playing the fool in the very moment of utter
necessity.---What on earth dost thou purpose by
this absurd disguise at a moment so urgent?''

``To get me a wife,'' answered De Bracy coolly,
``after the manner of the tribe of Benjamin.''

``The tribe of Benjamin?'' said Fitzurse; ``I
comprehend thee not.''

``Wert thou not in presence yester-even,'' said
De Bracy, ``when we heard the Prior Aymer tell
us a tale in reply to the romance which was sung
by the Minstrel?---He told how, long since in Palestine,
a deadly feud arose between the tribe of
Benjamin and the rest of the Israelitish nation;
and how they cut to pieces wellnigh all the chivalry
of that tribe; and how they swore by our blessed
Lady, that they would not permit those who remained
to marry in their lineage; and how they
became grieved for their vow, and sent to consult
his holiness the Pope how they might be absolved
from it; and how, by the advice of the Holy Father,
the youth of the tribe of Benjamin carried off
from a superb tournament all the ladies who were
there present, and thus won them wives without
the consent either of their brides or their brides'
families.''

``I have heard the story,'' said Fitzurse, ``though
either the Prior or thou has made some singular
alterations in date and circumstances.''

``I tell thee,'' said De Bracy, ``that I mean to
purvey me a wife after the fashion of the tribe of
Benjamin; which is as much as to say, that in this
same equipment I will fall upon that herd of Saxon
bullocks, who have this night left the castle, and
carry off from them the lovely Rowena.''

``Art thou mad, De Bracy?'' said Fitzurse. ``Bethink
thee that, though the men be Saxons, they
are rich and powerful, and regarded with the more
respect by their countrymen, that wealth and honour
are but the lot of few of Saxon descent.''

``And should belong to none,'' said De Bracy;
``the work of the Conquest should be completed.''

``This is no time for it at least,'' said Fitzurse
``the approaching crisis renders the favour of the
multitude indispensable, and Prince John cannot
refuse justice to any one who injures their favourites.''

``Let him grant it, if he dare,'' said De Bracy;
``he will soon see the difference betwixt the support
of such a lusty lot of spears as mine, and that
of a heartless mob of Saxon churls. Yet I mean
no immediate discovery of myself. Seem I not in
this garb as bold a forester as ever blew horn? The
blame of the violence shall rest with the outlaws of
the Yorkshire forests. I have sure spies on the
Saxon's motions---To-night they sleep in the convent
of Saint Wittol, or Withold, or whatever they
call that churl of a Saxon Saint at Burton-on-Trent.
Next day's march brings them within our reach,
and, falcon-ways, we swoop on them at once. Presently
after I will appear in mine own shape, play
the courteous knight, rescue the unfortunate and
afflicted fair one from the hands of the rude ravishers,
conduct her to Front-de-Buf's Castle, or to
Normandy, if it should be necessary, and produce
her not again to her kindred until she be the bride
and dame of Maurice de Bracy.''

``A marvellously sage plan,'' said Fitzurse, ``and,
as I think, not entirely of thine own device.---Come,
be frank, De Bracy, who aided thee in the invention?
and who is to assist in the execution? for,
as I think, thine own band lies as far of as York.''

``Marry, if thou must needs know,'' said De
Bracy, ``it was the Templar Brian de Bois-Guilbert
that shaped out the enterprise, which the adventure
of the men of Benjamin suggested to me.
He is to aid me in the onslaught, and he and his
followers will personate the outlaws, from whom
my valorous arm is, after changing my garb, to
rescue the lady.''

``By my halidome,'' said Fitzurse, ``the plan
was worthy of your united wisdom! and thy prudence,
De Bracy, is most especially manifested in
the project of leaving the lady in the hands of thy
worthy confederate. Thou mayst, I think, succeed
in taking her from her Saxon friends, but how thou
wilt rescue her afterwards from the clutches of
Bois-Guilbert seems considerably more doubtful
---He is a falcon well accustomed to pounce on a
partridge, and to hold his prey fast.''

``He is a Templar,'' said De Bracy, ``and cannot
therefore rival me in my plan of wedding this
heiress;---and to attempt aught dishonourable
against the intended bride of De Bracy---By Heaven!
were he a whole Chapter of his Order in his
single person, he dared not do me such an injury!''

``Then since nought that I can say,'' said Fitzurse,
``will put this folly from thy imagination,
(for well I know the obstinacy of thy disposition,)
at least waste as little time as possible---let not thy
folly be lasting as well as untimely.''

``I tell thee,'' answered De Bracy, ``that it will
be the work of a few hours, and I shall be at York---
at the head of my daring and valorous fellows, as
ready to support any bold design as thy policy can
be to form one.---But I hear my comrades assembling,
and the steeds stamping and neighing in the
outer court.---Farewell.---I go, like a true knight,
to win the smiles of beauty.''

``Like a true knight?'' repeated Fitzurse, looking
after him; ``like a fool, I should say, or like
a child, who will leave the most serious and needful
occupation, to chase the down of the thistle that
drives past him.---But it is with such tools that I
must work;---and for whose advantage?---For that
of a Prince as unwise as he is profligate, and as
likely to be an ungrateful master as he has already
proved a rebellious son and an unnatural brother.
---But he---he, too, is but one of the tools with
which I labour; and, proud as he is, should he presume
to separate his interest from mine, this is a
secret which he shall soon learn.''