Waverley, Ivanhoe & Rob Roy (Illustrated Edition). Walter Scott
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“But, noble knights,” exclaimed Father Ambrose, amidst the bustle and confusion occasioned by the preparations for defence, “will none of ye hear the message of the reverend father in God Aymer, Prior of Jorvaulx? — I beseech thee to hear me, noble Sir Reginald!”
“Go patter thy petitions to heaven,” said the fierce Norman, “for we on earth have no time to listen to them. — Ho! there, Anselm I see that seething pitch and oil are ready to pour on the heads of these audacious traitors — Look that the cross-bowmen lack not bolts.32 — Fling abroad my banner with the old bull’s head — the knaves shall soon find with whom they have to do this day!”
“But, noble sir,” continued the monk, persevering in his endeavours to draw attention, “consider my vow of obedience, and let me discharge myself of my Superior’s errand.”
“Away with this prating dotard,” said Front-de Boeuf, “lock him up in the chapel, to tell his beads till the broil be over. It will be a new thing to the saints in Torquilstone to hear aves and paters; they have not been so honoured, I trow, since they were cut out of stone.”
“Blaspheme not the holy saints, Sir Reginald,” said De Bracy, “we shall have need of their aid to-day before yon rascal rout disband.”
“I expect little aid from their hand,” said Front-de-Boeuf, “unless we were to hurl them from the battlements on the heads of the villains. There is a huge lumbering Saint Christopher yonder, sufficient to bear a whole company to the earth.”
The Templar had in the meantime been looking out on the proceedings of the besiegers, with rather more attention than the brutal Front-de-Boeuf or his giddy companion.
“By the faith of mine order,” he said, “these men approach with more touch of discipline than could have been judged, however they come by it. See ye how dexterously they avail themselves of every cover which a tree or bush affords, and shun exposing themselves to the shot of our cross-bows? I spy neither banner nor pennon among them, and yet will I gage my golden chain, that they are led on by some noble knight or gentleman, skilful in the practice of wars.”
“I espy him,” said De Bracy; “I see the waving of a knight’s crest, and the gleam of his armour. See yon tall man in the black mail, who is busied marshalling the farther troop of the rascaille yeomen — by Saint Dennis, I hold him to be the same whom we called Le Noir Faineant, who overthrew thee, Front-de-Boeuf, in the lists at Ashby.”
“So much the better,” said Front-de-Boeuf, “that he comes here to give me my revenge. Some hilding fellow he must be, who dared not stay to assert his claim to the tourney prize which chance had assigned him. I should in vain have sought for him where knights and nobles seek their foes, and right glad am I he hath here shown himself among yon villain yeomanry.”
The demonstrations of the enemy’s immediate approach cut off all farther discourse. Each knight repaired to his post, and at the head of the few followers whom they were able to muster, and who were in numbers inadequate to defend the whole extent of the walls, they awaited with calm determination the threatened assault.
30 “Surquedy” and “outrecuidance” — insolence and presumption
31 Mantelets were temporary and movable defences formed of planks, under cover of which the assailants advanced to the attack of fortified places of old. Pavisses were a species of large shields covering the whole person, employed on the same occasions.
32 The bolt was the arrow peculiarly fitted to the cross-bow, as that of the long-bow was called a shaft. Hence the English proverb — “I will either make a shaft or bolt of it,” signifying a determination to make one use or other of the thing spoken of.
Chapter 28
This wandering race, sever’d from other men,
Boast yet their intercourse with human arts;
The seas, the woods, the deserts, which they haunt,
Find them acquainted with their secret treasures:
And unregarded herbs, and flowers, and blossoms,
Display undreamt-of powers when gather’d by them.
The Jew
Our history must needs retrograde for the space of a few pages, to inform the reader of certain passages material to his understanding the rest of this important narrative. His own intelligence may indeed have easily anticipated that, when Ivanhoe sunk down, and seemed abandoned by all the world, it was the importunity of Rebecca which prevailed on her father to have the gallant young warrior transported from the lists to the house which for the time the Jews inhabited in the suburbs of Ashby.
It would not have been difficult to have persuaded Isaac to this step in any other circumstances, for his disposition was kind and grateful. But he had also the prejudices and scrupulous timidity of his persecuted people, and those were to be conquered.
“Holy Abraham!” he exclaimed, “he is a good youth, and my heart bleeds to see the gore trickle down his rich embroidered hacqueton, and his corslet of goodly price — but to carry him to our house! — damsel, hast thou well considered? — he is a Christian, and by our law we may not deal with the stranger and Gentile, save for the advantage of our commerce.”
“Speak not so, my dear father,” replied Rebecca; “we may not indeed mix with them in banquet and in jollity; but in wounds and in misery, the Gentile becometh the Jew’s brother.”
“I would I knew what the Rabbi Jacob Ben Tudela would opine on it,” replied Isaac; — “nevertheless, the good youth must not bleed to death. Let Seth and Reuben bear him to Ashby.”
“Nay, let them place him in my litter,” said Rebecca; “I will mount one of the palfreys.”
“That were to expose thee to the gaze of those dogs of Ishmael and of Edom,” whispered Isaac, with a suspicious glance towards the crowd of knights and squires. But Rebecca was already busied in carrying her charitable purpose into effect, and listed not what he said, until Isaac, seizing the sleeve of her mantle, again exclaimed, in a hurried voice — “Beard of Aaron! — what if the youth perish! — if he die in our custody, shall we not be held guilty of his blood, and be torn to pieces by the multitude?”
“He will not die, my father,” said Rebecca, gently extricating herself from the grasp of Isaac “he will not die unless we abandon him; and if so, we are indeed answerable for his blood to God and to man.”
“Nay,” said Isaac, releasing his hold, “it grieveth me as much to see the drops of his blood, as if they were so many golden byzants from mine own purse; and I well know, that the lessons of Miriam, daughter of the Rabbi Manasses of Byzantium whose soul is in Paradise, have made thee skilful in