Ivanhoe, by Sir Walter Scott

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``By the bald scalp of Abraham,'' said Prince
John, ``yonder Jewess must be the very model of
that perfection, whose charms drove frantic the
wisest king that ever lived ! What sayest thou,
Prior Aymer?---By the Temple of that wise king,
which our wiser brother Richard proved unable to
recover, she is the very Bride of the Canticles !''

``The Rose of Sharon and the Lily of the Valley,''
---answered the Prior, in a sort of snuffling
tone; ``but your Grace must 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 keep the devil from dancing
there. By the body of St Mark, my prince of supplies,
with his lovely Jewess, shall have a place in
the gallery!---What is she, Isaac? Thy wife or thy
daughter, that Eastern houri that thou lockest 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's salutation, in which, however,
there was at least as much mockery as courtesy.

``The wiser man thou,'' said John, with a peal
of laughter, in which his gay followers obsequiously
joined. ``But, daughter or wife, she should be
preferred according to her beauty and thy merits.
---Who sits above there?'' he continued, bending
his eye on the gallery. ``Saxon churls, lolling at
their lazy length!---out upon them!---let them sit
close, and make room for my prince of usurers and
his lovely daughter. I'll make the hinds know they
must share the high places of the synagogue with
those whom the synagogue properly belongs to.''

Those who occupied the gallery to whom this
injurious and unpolite speech was addressed, were
the family of Cedric the Saxon, with that of his
ally and kinsman, Athelstane of Coningsburgh, a
personage, who, on account of his descent from the
last Saxon monarchs of England, was held in the
highest respect by all the Saxon natives of the
north of England. But with the blood of this ancient
royal race, many of their infirmities had descended
to Athelstane. He was comely in countenance,
bulky and strong in person, and in the flower
of his age---yet inanimate in expression, dull-eyed,
heavy-browed, inactive and sluggish in all his motions,
and so slow in resolution, that the soubriquet
of one of his ancestors was conferred upon him,
and he was very generally called Athelstane the
Unready. His friends, and he had many, who, as
well as Cedric, were passionately attached to him,
contended that this sluggish temper arose not from
want of courage, but from mere want of decision;
others alleged that his hereditary vice of drunkenness
had obscured his faculties, never of a very
acute order, and that the passive courage and meek
good-nature which remained behind, were merely
the dregs of a character that might have been deserving
of praise, but of which all the valuable parts
had flown off in the progress of a long course of
brutal debauchery.

It was to this person, such as we have described
him, that the Prince addressed his imperious command
to make place for Isaac and Rebecca. Athelstane,
utterly confounded at an order which the
manners and feelings of the times rendered so injuriously
insulting, unwilling to obey, yet undetermined
how to resist, opposed only the _vis inerti_
to the will of John; and, without stirring or making
any motion whatever of obedience, opened his
large grey eyes, and stared at the Prince with an
astonishment which had in it something extremely
ludicrous. But the impatient John regarded it in
no such light.

``The Saxon porker,'' he said, ``is either asleep
or minds me not---Prick him with your lance, De
Bracy,'' speaking to a knight who rode near him,
the leader of a band of Free Companions, or Condottieri;
that is, of mercenaries belonging to no
particular nation, but attached for the time to any
prince by whom they were paid. There was a murmur
even among the attendants of Prince John;
but De Bracy, whose profession freed him from all
scruples, extended his long lance over the space
which separated the gallery from the lists, and
would have executed the commands of the Prince
before Athelstane the Unready had recovered presence
of mind sufficient even to draw back his person
from the 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. The blood rushed into the countenance
of Prince John. He swore one of his deepest
oaths, and was about to utter some threat corresponding
in violence, when he was diverted from
his purpose, partly by his own attendants, who
gathered around him conjuring him to be patient,
partly by a general exclamation of the crowd, uttered
in loud applause of the spirited conduct of
Cedric. The Prince rolled his eyes in indignation,
as if to collect some safe and easy victim; and
chancing to encounter the firm glance of the same
archer whom we have already noticed, and who
seemed to persist in his gesture of applause, in spite
of the frowning aspect which the Prince bent upon
him, he demanded his reason for 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
thou canst 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 satisfied himself, however, with commanding
the men-at-arms, who surrounded the
lists, to keep an eye on the braggart, pointing to
the yeoman.

``By St Grizzel,'' he added, ``we will try his
own 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,'' said
the 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!---it is
not fit for such as we to sit with the rulers of the
land,'' said the Jew; whose ambition for precedence
though it had led him to dispute Place with
the extenuated and impoverished descendant of the
line of Montdidier, by no means stimulated him
to an intrusion upon the privileges of the wealthy
Saxons.

``Up, infidel dog when I command you,'' said
Prince John, ``or I will have thy swarthy hide
stript off, and tanned for horse-furniture.''

Thus urged, the Jew began to ascend the steep
and narrow steps which led up to the gallery.

``Let me see,'' said the Prince, ``who dare stop
him,'' fixing his eye on Cedric, whose attitude intimated
his intention to hurl the Jew down headlong.

The catastrophe was prevented by the clown
Wamba, who, springing betwixt his master and
Isaac, and exclaiming, in answer to the Prince's defiance,
``Marry, that will I!'' opposed to the beard
of the Jew a shield of brawn, which he plucked
from beneath his cloak, and with which, doubtless,
he had furnished himself, lest the tournament should
have proved longer than his appetite could endure
abstinence. Finding the abomination of his tribe
opposed to his very nose, while the Jester, at the
same time, flourished his wooden sword above his
head, the Jew recoiled, missed his footing, and rolled
down the steps,---an excellent jest to the spectators,
who set up a loud laughter, 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 in the other.

``Who, and what art thou, noble champion?''
said Prince John, still laughing.

``A fool by right of descent,'' answered the
Jester; ``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 lower
ring,'' said Prince John, not unwilling perhaps to,
seize an apology to desist from his original purpose;
``to place the vanquished beside the victor
were false heraldry.''

``Knave upon fool were worse,'' answered the
Jester, ``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, afraid to
refuse, and unwilling to comply, fumbled in the
furred bag which hung by his girdle, and was perhaps
endeavouring to ascertain how few coins might
pass for a handful, the Prince stooped from his
jennet and 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 derision of those around him, and himself
receiving as much applause from the spectators as
if he had done some honest and honourable action.

CHAPTER VIII

At this the challenger with fierce defy
His trumpet sounds; the challenged makes reply:
With clangour rings the field, resounds the vaulted sky.
Their visors closed, their lances in the rest,
Or at the helmet pointed or the crest,
They vanish from the barrier, speed the race,
And spurring see decrease the middle space.
_ Palamon and Arcite_.

In the midst of Prince John's cavalcade, he suddenly
stopt, and appealing to the Prior of Jorvaulx,
declared the principal business of the day had been
forgotten.

``By my halidom,'' said he, ``we have forgotten,
Sir Prior, to name the fair Sovereign of Love and
of Beauty, by whose white hand the palm is to be
distributed. For my part, I am liberal in my ideas,
and I care not if I give my vote for the black-eyed
Rebecca.''

``Holy Virgin,'' answered the Prior, turning up
his eyes in horror, ``a Jewess!---We should deserve
to be stoned out of the lists; and I am not yet old
enough to be a martyr. Besides, I swear by my
patron saint, that she is far inferior to the lovely
Saxon, Rowena.''

``Saxon or Jew,'' answered the Prince, ``Saxon
or Jew, dog or hog, what matters it? I say, name
Rebecca, were it only to mortify the Saxon churls.''

A murmur arose even among his own immediate
attendants.

``This passes a jest, my lord,'' said De Bracy;
``no knight here will lay lance in rest if such an insult
is attempted.''

``It is the mere wantonness of insult,'' said one
of the oldest and most important of Prince John's
followers, Waldemar Fitzurse, ``and if your Grace
attempt it, cannot but prove ruinous to your projects.''

``I entertained you, sir,'' said John, reining up
his palfrey haughtily, ``for my follower, but not for
my counsellor.''

``Those who follow your Grace in the paths
which you tread,'' said Waldemar, but speaking in
a low voice, ``acquire the right of counsellors; for
your interest and safety are not more deeply gaged
than their own.''

From the tone in which this was spoken, John
saw the necessity of acquiescence ``I did but jest,''
he said; ``and you turn upon me like so many adders!
Name whom you will, in the fiend's name,
and please yourselves.''

``Nay, nay,'' said De Bracy, ``let the fair sovereign's
throne remain unoccupied, until the conqueror
shall be named, and then let him choose the lady
by whom it shall be filled. It will add another grace
to his triumph, and teach fair ladies to prize the love
of valiant knights, who can exalt them to such distinction.''

``If Brian de Bois-Guilbert gain the prize,'' said
the Prior, `` I will gage my rosary that I name the
Sovereign of Love and Beauty.''

``Bois-Guilbert,'' answered De Bracy, ``is a good
lance; but there are others around these lists, Sir
Prior, who will not fear to encounter him.''

``Silence, sirs,'' said Waldemar, ``and let the
Prince assume his seat. The knights and spectators
are alike impatient, the time advances, and
highly fit it is that the sports should commence.''

Prince John, though not yet a monarch, had in
Waldemar Fitzurse all the inconveniences of a favourite
minister, who, in serving his sovereign, must
always do so in his own way. The Prince acquiesced,
however, although his disposition was precisely
of that kind which is apt to be obstinate upon
trifles, and, assuming his throne, and being surrounded
by his followers, gave signal to the heralds
to proclaim the laws of the tournament, which were
briefly as follows:

First, the five challengers were to undertake all
comers.

Secondly, any knight proposing to combat, might,
if he pleased, select a special antagonist from among
the challengers, by touching his shield. If he did
so with the reverse of his lance, the trial of skill
was made with what were called the arms of courtesy,
that is, with lances at whose extremity a piece
of round flat board was fixed, so that no danger
was encountered, save from the shock of the horses
and riders. But if the shield was touched with the
sharp end of the lance, the combat was understood
to be at _outrance_, that is, the knights were to fight
with sharp weapons, as in actual battle.

Thirdly, when the knights present had accomplished
their vow, by each of them breaking five
lances, the Prince was to declare the victor in the
first day's tourney, who should receive as prize a warhorse
of exquisite beauty and matchless strength;
and in addition to this reward of valour, it was now
declared, he should have the peculiar honour of
naming the Queen of Love and Beauty, by whom
the prize should be given on the ensuing day.

Fourthly, it was announced, that, on the second
day, there should be a general tournament, in which
all the knights present, who were desirous to win
praise, might take part; and being divided into two
bands of equal numbers, might fight it out manfully,
until the signal was given by Prince John to
cease the combat. The elected Queen of Love and
Beauty was then to crown the knight whom the
Prince should adjudge to have borne himself best
in this second day, with a coronet composed of thin
gold plate, cut into the shape of a laurel crown. On
this second day the knightly games ceased. But
on that which was to follow, feats of archery, of
bull-baiting, and other popular amusements, were
to be practised, for the more immediate amusement
of the populace. In this manner did Prince John
endeavour to lay the foundation of a popularity,
which he was perpetually throwing down by some
inconsiderate act of wanton aggression upon the
feelings and prejudices of the people.

The lists now presented a most splendid spectacle.
The sloping galleries were crowded with all
that was noble, great, wealthy, and beautiful in the
northern and midland parts of England; and the
contrast of the various dresses of these dignified
spectators, rendered the view as gay as it was rich,
while the interior and lower space, filled with the
substantial burgesses and yeomen of merry England,
formed, in their more plain attire, a dark fringe, or
border, around this circle of brilliant embroidery,
relieving, and, at the same time, setting off its
splendour.

The heralds finished their proclamation with their
usual cry of ``Largesse, largesse, gallant knights!''
and gold and silver pieces were showered on them
from the galleries, it being a high point of chivalry
to exhibit liberality towards those whom the age
accounted at once the secretaries and the historians
of honour. The bounty of the spectators was acknowledged
by the customary shouts of ``Love of
Ladies---Death of Champions---Honour to the Generous---
Glory to the Brave!'' To which the more
humble spectators added their acclamations, and a
numerous band of trumpeters the flourish of their
martial instruments. When these sounds had ceased,
the heralds withdrew from the lists in gay and
glittering procession, and none remained within
them save the marshals of the field, who, armed
cap-a-pie, sat on horseback, motionless as statues,
at the opposite ends of the lists. Meantime, the
enclosed space at the northern extremity of the
lists, large as it was, was now completely crowded
with knights desirous to prove their skill against
the challengers, and, when viewed from the galleries,
presented the appearance of a sea of waving
plumage, intermixed with glistening helmets, and
tall lances, to the extremities of which were, in
many cases, attached small pennons of about a
span's breadth, which, fluttering in the air as the
breeze caught them, joined with the restless motion
of the feathers to add liveliness to the scene.

At length the barriers were opened, and five
knights, chosen by lot, advanced slowly into the
area; a single champion riding in front, and the other
four following in pairs. All were splendidly armed,
and my Saxon authority (in the Wardour Manuscript)
records at great length their devices, their
colours, and the embroidery of their horse trappings.
It is unnecessary to be particular on these subjects.
To borrow lines from a contemporary poet, who has
written but too little---

``The knights are dust,
And their good swords are rust,
Their souls are with the saints, we trust.''*

* These lines are part of an unpublished poem. by Coleridge,
* whose Muse so often tantalizes with fragments which indicate
* her powers, while the manner in which she flings them from
* her betrays her caprice, yet whose unfinished sketches display
* more talent than the laboured masterpieces of others.

Their escutcheons have long mouldered from the
walls of their castles. Their castles themselves are
but green mounds and shattered ruins---the place
that once knew them, knows them no more---nay,
many a race since theirs has died out and been forgotten
in the very land which they occupied, with
all the authority of feudal proprietors and feudal
lords. What, then, would it avail the reader to know
their names, or the evanescent symbols of their
martial rank!

Now, however, no whit anticipating the oblivion
which awaited their names and feats, the champions
advanced through the lists, restraining their
fiery steeds, and compelling them to move slowly,
while, at the same time, they exhibited their paces,
together with the grace and dexterity of the riders.
As the procession entered the lists, the sound of a
wild Barbaric music was heard from behind the
tents of the challengers, where the performers were
concealed. It was of Eastern origin, having been
brought from the Holy Land; and the mixture of
the cymbals and bells seemed to bid welcome at
once, and defiance, to the knights as they advanced.
With the eyes of an immense concourse of spectators
fixed upon them, the five knights advanced up
the platform upon which the tents of the challengers
stood, and there separating themselves, each
touched slightly, and with the reverse of his lance,
the shield of the antagonist to whom he wished to
oppose himself. The lower orders of spectators in
general---nay, many of the higher class, and it is
even said several of the ladies, were rather disappointed
at the champions choosing the arms of courtesy.
For the same sort of persons, who, in the
present day, applaud most highly the deepest tragedies,
were then interested in a tournament exactly
in proportion to the danger incurred by the
champions engaged.

Having intimated their more pacific purpose, the
champions retreated to the extremity of the lists,
where they remained drawn up in a line; while the
challengers, sallying each from his pavilion, mounted
their horses, and, headed by Brian de Bois-Guilbert,
descended from the platform, and opposed
themselves individually to the knights who had
touched their respective shields.

At the flourish of clarions and trumpets, they
started out against each other at full gallop; and
such was the superior dexterity or good fortune of
the challengers, that those opposed to Bois-Guilbert,
Malvoisin, and Front-de-Buf, rolled on the
ground. The antagonist of Grantmesnil, instead
of bearing his lance-point fair against the crest or
the shield of his enemy, swerved so much from the
direct line as to break the weapon athwart the person
of his opponent---a circumstance which was accounted
more disgraceful than that of being actually
unhorsed; because the latter might happen from
accident, whereas the former evinced awkwardness
and want of management of the weapon and
of the horse. The fifth knight alone maintained
the honour of his party, and parted fairly with the
Knight of St John, both splintering their lances
without advantage on either side.

The shouts of the multitude, together with the
acclamations of the heralds, and the clangour of the
trumpets, announced the triumph of the victors and
the defeat of the vanquished. The former retreated
to their pavilions, and the latter, gathering themselves
up as they could, withdrew from the lists in
disgrace and dejection, to agree with their victors
concerning the redemption of their arms and their
horses, which, according to the laws of the tournament,
they had forfeited. The fifth of their number
alone tarried in the lists long enough to be
greeted by the applauses of the spectators, amongst
whom he retreated, to the aggravation, doubtless,
of his companions' mortification.

A second and a third party of knights took the
field; and although they had various success, yet,
upon the whole, the advantage decidedly remained
with the challengers, not one of whom lost his seat
or swerved from his charge---misfortunes which befell
one or two of their antagonists in each encounter.
The spirits, therefore, of those opposed to
them, seemed to be considerably damped by their
continued success. Three knights only appeared on
the fourth entry, who, avoiding the shields of Bois-Guilbert
and Front-de-Buf, contented themselves
with touching those of the three other knights, who
had not altogether manifested the same strength
and dexterity. This politic selection did not alter
the fortune of the field, the challengers were still
successful: one of their antagonists was overthrown,
and both the others failed in the _attaint_,* that is,

* This term of chivalry, transferred to the law, gives the
* phrase of being attainted of treason.

in striking the helmet and shield of their antagonist
firmly and strongly, with the lance held in a
direct line, so that the weapon might break unless
the champion was overthrown.

After this fourth encounter, there was a considerable
pause; nor did it appear that any one was
very desirous of renewing the contest The spectators
murmured among themselves; for, among
the challengers, Malvoisin and Front-de-Buf were
unpopular from their characters, and the others, except
Grantmesnil, were disliked as strangers and
foreigners.

But none shared the general feeling of dissatisfaction
so keenly as Cedric the Saxon, who saw, in
each advantage gained by the Norman challengers,
a repeated triumph over the honour of England.
His own education had taught him no skill in the
games of chivalry, although, with the arms of his
Saxon ancestors, he had manifested himself, on
many occasions, a brave and determined soldier.
He looked anxiously to Athelstane, who had learned
the accomplishments of the age, as if desiring
that he should make some personal effort to recover
the victory which was passing into the hands
of the Templar and his associates. But, though
both stout of heart, and strong of person, Athelstane
had a disposition too inert and unambitious to make
the exertions which Cedric seemed to expect from
him.

``The day is against England, my lord,'' said
Cedric, in a marked tone; ``are you not tempted
to take the lance?''

``I shall tilt to-morrow" answered Athelstane,
``in the _mle_; it is not worth while for me to arm
myself to-day.''

Two things displeased Cedric in this speech. It
contained the Norman word _mele_, (to express the
general conflict,) and it evinced some indifference
to the honour of the country; but it was spoken
by Athelstane, whom he held in such profound
respect, that he would not trust himself to canvass
his motives or his foibles. Moreover, he had no
time to make any remark, for Wamba thrust in his
word, observing, ``It was better, though scarce
easier, to be the best man among a hundred, than
the best man of two.''

Athelstane took the observation as a serious compliment;
but Cedric, who better understood the
Jester's meaning, darted at him a severe and menacing
look; and lucky it was for Wamba, perhaps,
that the time and place prevented his receiving,
notwithstanding his place and service, more
sensible marks of his master's resentment.

The pause in the tournament was still uninterrupted,
excepting by the voices of the heralds exclaiming---
``Love of ladies, splintering of lances!
stand forth gallant knights, fair eyes look upon
your deeds!''