Ivanhoe: A Romance
not supply, wert thou as wealthy as thou sayst thou art poor.”
“As I say?” echoed the Jew; “O! believe it, I say but the truth; I am a
plundered, indebted, distressed man. Hard hands have wrung from me my
goods, my money, my ships, and all that I possessed—Yet I can tell thee
what thou lackest, and, it may be, supply it too. Thy wish even now is
for a horse and armour.”
The Palmer started, and turned suddenly towards the Jew:—“What fiend
prompted that guess?” said he, hastily.
“No matter,” said the Jew, smiling, “so that it 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 superstitious penance, 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, like sparks from flint, showed
the metal within; and in the bosom of that Palmer’s gown, is hidden a
knight’s chain and spurs of gold. They glanced as you stooped over my
bed in the morning.”
The Pilgrim could not forbear smiling. “Were thy garments searched by
as curious an eye, Isaac,” said he, “what discoveries might not be
made?”
“No more of that,” said the Jew, changing colour; and drawing forth his
writing materials in haste, as if to stop the conversation, he began to
write upon a piece of paper which he supported on the top of his yellow
cap, without dismounting from his mule. When he had finished, he
delivered the scroll, which was in the Hebrew character, to the
Pilgrim, saying, “In the town of Leicester all men know the rich Jew,
Kirjath Jairam of Lombardy; give him this scroll—he hath on sale six
Milan harnesses, the worst would suit a crowned head—ten goodly steeds,
the worst might mount a king, were he to do battle for his throne. Of
these he will give thee thy choice, with every thing else that can
furnish thee forth for the tournament: when it is over, thou wilt
return them safely—unless thou shouldst have wherewith to pay their
value to the owner.”
“But, Isaac,” said the Pilgrim, smiling, “dost thou know that in these
sports, the arms and steed of the knight who is unhorsed are forfeit to
his victor? Now I may be unfortunate, and so lose what I cannot replace
or repay.”
The Jew looked somewhat astounded at this possibility; but collecting
his courage, he replied hastily. “No—no—no—It is impossible—I will not
think so. The blessing of Our Father will be upon thee. Thy lance will
be powerful as the rod of Moses.”
So saying, he was turning his mule’s head away, when the Palmer, in his
turn, took hold of his gaberdine. “Nay, but Isaac, thou knowest not all
the risk. The steed may be slain, the armour injured—for I will spare
neither horse nor man. Besides, those of thy tribe give nothing for
nothing; something there must be paid for their use.”
The Jew twisted himself in the saddle, like a man in a fit of the
colic; but his better feelings predominated over those which were most
familiar to him. “I care not,” he said, “I care not—let me go. If there
is damage, it will cost you nothing—if there is usage money, Kirjath
Jairam will forgive it for the sake of his kinsman Isaac. Fare thee
well!—Yet hark thee, good youth,” said he, turning about, “thrust
thyself not too forward into this vain hurly-burly—I speak 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 hard with me but I will requite
it.”
They parted, and took different roads for the 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 restless feet,
And snorting foam’d and champ’d the golden bit.
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 cudgels in their hands.
PALAMON AND ARCITE
The condition of the English nation was at this 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 but very imperfectly known to the
generality of his subjects, who were, in the meantime, a prey to every
species of subaltern oppression.
Prince John, in league with Philip of France, Cœur-de-Lion’s mortal
enemy, was using every species of influence with 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 was strengthening his
own faction in the kingdom, of which he proposed to dispute the
succession, in case of the King’s death, with the legitimate heir,
Arthur Duke of Brittany, son of Geoffrey Plantagenet, the elder brother
of John. This usurpation, it is well known, he afterwards effected. His
own character being light, profligate, and perfidious, John easily
attached to his person and faction, not only all who had reason to
dread the resentment of Richard for criminal proceedings during his
absence, but also the numerous class of “lawless resolutes,” whom the
crusades had turned back on their country, accomplished in the vices of
the East, impoverished in substance, and hardened in character, and who
placed their hopes of harvest in civil commotion. To these causes of
public distress and apprehension, must be added, the multitude of
outlaws, who, driven to despair by the oppression of the feudal
nobility, and the severe exercise of the forest laws, banded together
in large gangs, and, keeping possession of the forests and the wastes,
set at defiance the justice and magistracy of the country. The nobles
themselves, each fortified within his own castle, and playing the petty
sovereign over his own dominions, were the leaders of bands scarce less
lawless and oppressive than those of the avowed depredators. To
maintain these retainers, and to support the extravagance and
magnificence which their pride induced them to affect, the nobility
borrowed sums of money from the Jews at the most usurious interest,
which gnawed into their estates like consuming cankers, scarce to be
cured unless 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 this unhappy state of affairs, the
people of England suffered deeply for the present, and had yet more
dreadful cause to fear for the future. To augment their misery, a
contagious disorder of a dangerous nature spread 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 exempting them from the evils
which were to come.
Yet amid these accumulated distresses, the poor as well as the rich,
the vulgar as well as the noble, in the event of a tournament, which
was the grand spectacle of that age, felt as much interested as the
half-starved citizen of Madrid, who has not a real left to 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 place at Ashby, in
the county of Leicester, as champions of the first renown were to take
the field in the presence of Prince John himself, who was expected to
grace the lists, had attracted universal attention, and an immense
confluence of persons of all ranks hastened upon the appointed morning
to the place of combat.
The scene was singularly romantic. On the verge of a wood, which
approached to within a mile of the town of Ashby, was an extensive
meadow, of the finest and most beautiful green turf, surrounded on one
side by the forest, and fringed on the other by straggling oak-trees,
some of which had grown to an immense size. The ground, as if fashioned
on purpose for the martial display which was intended, sloped gradually
down on all sides to a level bottom, which was enclosed for the lists
with strong palisades, forming a space of a quarter of a mile in
length, and about half as broad. The form of the enclosure was an
oblong square, save that the corners were considerably rounded off, in
order to afford more convenience for the spectators. The openings for
the entry of the combatants were at the northern and southern
extremities of the lists, accessible by strong wooden gates, each wide
enough to admit two horsemen riding abreast. At each of these portals
were stationed two heralds, attended by six trumpets, as many
pursuivants, and a strong body of men-at-arms for maintaining order,
and ascertaining the quality of the knights who proposed to engage in
this martial game.
On a platform beyond the southern entrance, formed by a natural
elevation of the ground, were pitched five magnificent pavilions,
adorned with pennons of russet and black, the chosen colours of the
five knights challengers. The cords of the tents were of the same
colour. Before each pavilion was suspended the shield of 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 fantastic dress,
according to the taste of his master, and the character he 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 games of chivalry, no less
than his connexions with the knights who had undertaken this Passage of
Arms, had occasioned him to be eagerly received into the company of the
challengers, and even adopted as their chief and leader, though he had
so recently joined them. On one side of his tent were pitched those of
Reginald Front-de-Bœuf and Richard de Malvoisin, and on the other was
the pavilion of Hugh de Grantmesnil, a noble baron in the vicinity,
whose ancestor had been Lord High Steward of England in the time of the
Conqueror, and his son William Rufus. Ralph de Vipont, a knight of St
John of Jerusalem, who had some ancient possessions at a place called
Heather, near Ashby-de-la-Zouche, occupied the fifth pavilion. From the
entrance into the lists, a gently sloping passage, ten yards in
breadth, led up to the platform on which the tents were pitched. It was
strongly secured by a palisade on each side, as was the esplanade in
front of the pavilions, and the whole was guarded by men-at-arms.
The northern access to the lists terminated in a similar entrance of
thirty feet in breadth, at the extremity of which was a large enclosed
space for such knights as might be disposed to enter the lists with the
challengers, behind which were placed tents containing refreshments of
every kind for their accommodation, with armourers, tarriers, and other
attendants, in readiness to give their services wherever they might be
necessary.
The exterior of the lists was in part occupied by temporary galleries,
spread with tapestry and carpets, and accommodated with cushions for
the convenience of those ladies and nobles who were expected to attend
the tournament. A narrow space, betwixt these galleries and the lists,
gave accommodation for yeomanry and spectators of a better degree than
the mere vulgar, and might be compared to the pit of a theatre. The