Ivanhoe: A Romance, Page 42

  CHAPTER XL

  Shadows avaunt!--Richard's himself again. Richard III

  When the Black Knight--for it becomes necessary to resume the train ofhis adventures--left the Trysting-tree of the generous Outlaw, he heldhis way straight to a neighbouring religious house, of small extentand revenue, called the Priory of Saint Botolph, to which the woundedIvanhoe had been removed when the castle was taken, under the guidanceof the faithful Gurth, and the magnanimous Wamba. It is unnecessary atpresent to mention what took place in the interim betwixt Wilfredand his deliverer; suffice it to say, that after long and gravecommunication, messengers were dispatched by the Prior in severaldirections, and that on the succeeding morning the Black Knight wasabout to set forth on his journey, accompanied by the jester Wamba, whoattended as his guide.

  "We will meet," he said to Ivanhoe, "at Coningsburgh, the castle of thedeceased Athelstane, since there thy father Cedric holds the funeralfeast for his noble relation. I would see your Saxon kindred together,Sir Wilfred, and become better acquainted with them than heretofore.Thou also wilt meet me; and it shall be my task to reconcile thee to thyfather."

  So saying, he took an affectionate farewell of Ivanhoe, who expressed ananxious desire to attend upon his deliverer. But the Black Knight wouldnot listen to the proposal.

  "Rest this day; thou wilt have scarce strength enough to travel on thenext. I will have no guide with me but honest Wamba, who can play priestor fool as I shall be most in the humour."

  "And I," said Wamba, "will attend you with all my heart. I would fainsee the feasting at the funeral of Athelstane; for, if it be not fulland frequent, he will rise from the dead to rebuke cook, sewer, andcupbearer; and that were a sight worth seeing. Always, Sir Knight, Iwill trust your valour with making my excuse to my master Cedric, incase mine own wit should fail."

  "And how should my poor valour succeed, Sir Jester, when thy light withalts?--resolve me that."

  "Wit, Sir Knight," replied the Jester, "may do much. He is a quick,apprehensive knave, who sees his neighbours blind side, and knows howto keep the lee-gage when his passions are blowing high. But valour is asturdy fellow, that makes all split. He rows against both wind and tide,and makes way notwithstanding; and, therefore, good Sir Knight, while Itake advantage of the fair weather in our noble master's temper, I willexpect you to bestir yourself when it grows rough."

  "Sir Knight of the Fetterlock, since it is your pleasure so to bedistinguished," said Ivanhoe, "I fear me you have chosen a talkative anda troublesome fool to be your guide. But he knows every path and alleyin the woods as well as e'er a hunter who frequents them; and the poorknave, as thou hast partly seen, is as faithful as steel."

  "Nay," said the Knight, "an he have the gift of showing my road, I shallnot grumble with him that he desires to make it pleasant.--Farethee well, kind Wilfred--I charge thee not to attempt to travel tillto-morrow at earliest."

  So saying, he extended his hand to Ivanhoe, who pressed it to his lips,took leave of the Prior, mounted his horse, and departed, with Wamba forhis companion. Ivanhoe followed them with his eyes, until they werelost in the shades of the surrounding forest, and then returned into theconvent.

  But shortly after matin-song, he requested to see the Prior. The old mancame in haste, and enquired anxiously after the state of his health.

  "It is better," he said, "than my fondest hope could have anticipated;either my wound has been slighter than the effusion of blood led me tosuppose, or this balsam hath wrought a wonderful cure upon it. I feelalready as if I could bear my corslet; and so much the better, forthoughts pass in my mind which render me unwilling to remain here longerin inactivity."

  "Now, the saints forbid," said the Prior, "that the son of the SaxonCedric should leave our convent ere his wounds were healed! It wereshame to our profession were we to suffer it."

  "Nor would I desire to leave your hospitable roof, venerable father,"said Ivanhoe, "did I not feel myself able to endure the journey, andcompelled to undertake it."

  "And what can have urged you to so sudden a departure?" said the Prior.

  "Have you never, holy father," answered the Knight, "felt anapprehension of approaching evil, for which you in vain attempted toassign a cause?--Have you never found your mind darkened, like the sunnylandscape, by the sudden cloud, which augurs a coming tempest?--Andthinkest thou not that such impulses are deserving of attention, asbeing the hints of our guardian spirits, that danger is impending?"

  "I may not deny," said the Prior, crossing himself, "that such thingshave been, and have been of Heaven; but then such communications havehad a visibly useful scope and tendency. But thou, wounded as thou art,what avails it thou shouldst follow the steps of him whom thou couldstnot aid, were he to be assaulted?"

  "Prior," said Ivanhoe, "thou dost mistake--I am stout enough to exchangebuffets with any who will challenge me to such a traffic--But were itotherwise, may I not aid him were he in danger, by other means than byforce of arms? It is but too well known that the Saxons love not theNorman race, and who knows what may be the issue, if he break in uponthem when their hearts are irritated by the death of Athelstane,and their heads heated by the carousal in which they will indulgethemselves? I hold his entrance among them at such a moment mostperilous, and I am resolved to share or avert the danger; which, that Imay the better do, I would crave of thee the use of some palfrey whosepace may be softer than that of my 'destrier'." [56]

  "Surely," said the worthy churchman; "you shall have mine own amblingjennet, and I would it ambled as easy for your sake as that of the Abbotof Saint Albans. Yet this will I say for Malkin, for so I call her, thatunless you were to borrow a ride on the juggler's steed that paces ahornpipe amongst the eggs, you could not go a journey on a creature sogentle and smooth-paced. I have composed many a homily on her back, tothe edification of my brethren of the convent, and many poor Christiansouls."

  "I pray you, reverend father," said Ivanhoe, "let Malkin be got readyinstantly, and bid Gurth attend me with mine arms."

  "Nay, but fair sir," said the Prior, "I pray you to remember that Malkinhath as little skill in arms as her master, and that I warrant not herenduring the sight or weight of your full panoply. O, Malkin, Ipromise you, is a beast of judgment, and will contend against any undueweight--I did but borrow the 'Fructus Temporum' from the priest of SaintBees, and I promise you she would not stir from the gate until I hadexchanged the huge volume for my little breviary."

  "Trust me, holy father," said Ivanhoe, "I will not distress her with toomuch weight; and if she calls a combat with me, it is odds but she hasthe worst."

  This reply was made while Gurth was buckling on the Knight's heels apair of large gilded spurs, capable of convincing any restive horse thathis best safety lay in being conformable to the will of his rider.

  The deep and sharp rowels with which Ivanhoe's heels were nowarmed, began to make the worthy Prior repent of his courtesy, andejaculate,--"Nay, but fair sir, now I bethink me, my Malkin abideth notthe spur--Better it were that you tarry for the mare of our mancipledown at the Grange, which may be had in little more than an hour, andcannot but be tractable, in respect that she draweth much of our winterfire-wood, and eateth no corn."

  "I thank you, reverend father, but will abide by your first offer, asI see Malkin is already led forth to the gate. Gurth shall carry minearmour; and for the rest, rely on it, that as I will not overloadMalkin's back, she shall not overcome my patience. And now, farewell!"

  Ivanhoe now descended the stairs more hastily and easily than hiswound promised, and threw himself upon the jennet, eager to escape theimportunity of the Prior, who stuck as closely to his side as hisage and fatness would permit, now singing the praises of Malkin, nowrecommending caution to the Knight in managing her.

  "She is at the most dangerous period for maidens as well as mares," saidthe old man, laughing at his own jest, "being barely in her fifteenthyear."

  Ivanhoe, who had other web to weave than to stand canvassing a palfrey'sp
aces with its owner, lent but a deaf ear to the Prior's grave advicesand facetious jests, and having leapt on his mare, and commanded hissquire (for such Gurth now called himself) to keep close by his side, hefollowed the track of the Black Knight into the forest, while thePrior stood at the gate of the convent looking after him, andejaculating,--"Saint Mary! how prompt and fiery be these men of war!I would I had not trusted Malkin to his keeping, for, crippled as Iam with the cold rheum, I am undone if aught but good befalls her. Andyet," said he, recollecting himself, "as I would not spare my own oldand disabled limbs in the good cause of Old England, so Malkin must e'enrun her hazard on the same venture; and it may be they will think ourpoor house worthy of some munificent guerdon--or, it may be, they willsend the old Prior a pacing nag. And if they do none of these, as greatmen will forget little men's service, truly I shall hold me well repaidin having done that which is right. And it is now well-nigh the fittingtime to summon the brethren to breakfast in the refectory--Ah! I doubtthey obey that call more cheerily than the bells for primes and matins."

  So the Prior of Saint Botolph's hobbled back again into the refectory,to preside over the stockfish and ale, which was just serving out forthe friars' breakfast. Busy and important, he sat him down at the table,and many a dark word he threw out, of benefits to be expected to theconvent, and high deeds of service done by himself, which, at anotherseason, would have attracted observation. But as the stockfish washighly salted, and the ale reasonably powerful, the jaws of the brethrenwere too anxiously employed to admit of their making much use of theirears; nor do we read of any of the fraternity, who was tempted tospeculate upon the mysterious hints of their Superior, except FatherDiggory, who was severely afflicted by the toothache, so that he couldonly eat on one side of his jaws.

  In the meantime, the Black Champion and his guide were pacing at theirleisure through the recesses of the forest; the good Knight whileshumming to himself the lay of some enamoured troubadour, sometimesencouraging by questions the prating disposition of his attendant, sothat their dialogue formed a whimsical mixture of song and jest, ofwhich we would fain give our readers some idea. You are then to imaginethis Knight, such as we have already described him, strong of person,tall, broad-shouldered, and large of bone, mounted on his mighty blackcharger, which seemed made on purpose to bear his weight, so easily hepaced forward under it, having the visor of his helmet raised, in orderto admit freedom of breath, yet keeping the beaver, or under part,closed, so that his features could be but imperfectly distinguished. Buthis ruddy embrowned cheek-bones could be plainly seen, and the large andbright blue eyes, that flashed from under the dark shade of the raisedvisor; and the whole gesture and look of the champion expressed carelessgaiety and fearless confidence--a mind which was unapt to apprehenddanger, and prompt to defy it when most imminent--yet with whom dangerwas a familiar thought, as with one whose trade was war and adventure.

  The Jester wore his usual fantastic habit, but late accidents had ledhim to adopt a good cutting falchion, instead of his wooden sword, witha targe to match it; of both which weapons he had, notwithstandinghis profession, shown himself a skilful master during the storming ofTorquilstone. Indeed, the infirmity of Wamba's brain consisted chieflyin a kind of impatient irritability, which suffered him not long toremain quiet in any posture, or adhere to any certain train of ideas,although he was for a few minutes alert enough in performing anyimmediate task, or in apprehending any immediate topic. On horseback,therefore, he was perpetually swinging himself backwards and forwards,now on the horse's ears, then anon on the very rump of the animal,--nowhanging both his legs on one side, and now sitting with his face to thetail, moping, mowing, and making a thousand apish gestures, until hispalfrey took his freaks so much to heart, as fairly to lay him at hislength on the green grass--an incident which greatly amused the Knight,but compelled his companion to ride more steadily thereafter.

  At the point of their journey at which we take them up, this joyous pairwere engaged in singing a virelai, as it was called, in which the clownbore a mellow burden, to the better instructed Knight of the Fetterlock.And thus run the ditty:--

  Anna-Marie, love, up is the sun, Anna-Marie, love, morn is begun, Mists are dispersing, love, birds singing free, Up in the morning, love, Anna-Marie. Anna-Marie, love, up in the morn, The hunter is winding blithe sounds on his horn, The echo rings merry from rock and from tree, 'Tis time to arouse thee, love, Anna-Marie.

  Wamba.

  O Tybalt, love, Tybalt, awake me not yet, Around my soft pillow while softer dreams flit, For what are the joys that in waking we prove, Compared with these visions, O, Tybalt, my love? Let the birds to the rise of the mist carol shrill, Let the hunter blow out his loud horn on the hill, Softer sounds, softer pleasures, in slumber I prove,-- But think not I dreamt of thee, Tybalt, my love.

  "A dainty song," said Wamba, when they had finished their carol, "and Iswear by my bauble, a pretty moral!--I used to sing it with Gurth, oncemy playfellow, and now, by the grace of God and his master, no less thana freemen; and we once came by the cudgel for being so entranced by themelody, that we lay in bed two hours after sunrise, singing the dittybetwixt sleeping and waking--my bones ache at thinking of the tune eversince. Nevertheless, I have played the part of Anna-Marie, to pleaseyou, fair sir."

  The Jester next struck into another carol, a sort of comic ditty, towhich the Knight, catching up the tune, replied in the like manner.

  Knight and Wamba.

  There came three merry men from south, west, and north, Ever more sing the roundelay; To win the Widow of Wycombe forth, And where was the widow might say them nay?

  The first was a knight, and from Tynedale he came, Ever more sing the roundelay; And his fathers, God save us, were men of great fame, And where was the widow might say him nay?

  Of his father the laird, of his uncle the squire, He boasted in rhyme and in roundelay; She bade him go bask by his sea-coal fire, For she was the widow would say him nay.

  Wamba.

  The next that came forth, swore by blood and by nails, Merrily sing the roundelay; Hur's a gentleman, God wot, and hur's lineage was of Wales, And where was the widow might say him nay?

  Sir David ap Morgan ap Griffith ap Hugh Ap Tudor ap Rhice, quoth his roundelay She said that one widow for so many was too few, And she bade the Welshman wend his way.

  But then next came a yeoman, a yeoman of Kent, Jollily singing his roundelay; He spoke to the widow of living and rent, And where was the widow could say him nay?

  Both.

  So the knight and the squire were both left in the mire, There for to sing their roundelay; For a yeoman of Kent, with his yearly rent, There never was a widow could say him nay.

  "I would, Wamba," said the knight, "that our host of the Trysting-tree,or the jolly Friar, his chaplain, heard this thy ditty in praise of ourbluff yeoman."

  "So would not I," said Wamba--"but for the horn that hangs at yourbaldric."

  "Ay," said the Knight,--"this is a pledge of Locksley's goodwill, thoughI am not like to need it. Three mots on this bugle will, I am assured,bring round, at our need, a jolly band of yonder honest yeomen."

  "I would say, Heaven forefend," said the Jester, "were it not that thatfair gift is a pledge they would let us pass peaceably."

  "Why, what meanest thou?" said the Knight; "thinkest thou that but forthis pledge of fellowship they would assault us?"

  "Nay, for me I say nothing," said Wamba; "for green trees have ears aswell as stone walls. But canst thou construe me this, Sir Knight--Whenis thy wine-pitcher and thy purse better empty than full?"

  "Why, never, I think," replied the Knight.

  "Thou never deservest to have a full one in thy hand, for so simple ananswer! Thou hadst best empty thy pitcher ere thou pass it to a Saxon,and leave thy money at home ere thou walk in the greenwood."
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  "You hold our friends for robbers, then?" said the Knight of theFetterlock.

  "You hear me not say so, fair sir," said Wamba; "it may relieve a man'ssteed to take of his mail when he hath a long journey to make; and,certes, it may do good to the rider's soul to ease him of that which isthe root of evil; therefore will I give no hard names to those who dosuch services. Only I would wish my mail at home, and my purse in mychamber, when I meet with these good fellows, because it might save themsome trouble."

  "WE are bound to pray for them, my friend, notwithstanding the faircharacter thou dost afford them."

  "Pray for them with all my heart," said Wamba; "but in the town, notin the greenwood, like the Abbot of Saint Bees, whom they caused to saymass with an old hollow oak-tree for his stall."

  "Say as thou list, Wamba," replied the Knight, "these yeomen did thymaster Cedric yeomanly service at Torquilstone."

  "Ay, truly," answered Wamba; "but that was in the fashion of their tradewith Heaven."

  "Their trade, Wamba! how mean you by that?" replied his companion.

  "Marry, thus," said the Jester. "They make up a balanced account withHeaven, as our old cellarer used to call his ciphering, as fair as Isaacthe Jew keeps with his debtors, and, like him, give out a very little,and take large credit for doing so; reckoning, doubtless, on their ownbehalf the seven-fold usury which the blessed text hath promised tocharitable loans."

  "Give me an example of your meaning, Wamba,--I know nothing of ciphersor rates of usage," answered the Knight.

  "Why," said Wamba, "an your valour be so dull, you will please to learnthat those honest fellows balance a good deed with one not quite solaudable; as a crown given to a begging friar with an hundred byzantstaken from a fat abbot, or a wench kissed in the greenwood with therelief of a poor widow."

  "Which of these was the good deed, which was the felony?" interruptedthe Knight.

  "A good gibe! a good gibe!" said Wamba; "keeping witty companysharpeneth the apprehension. You said nothing so well, Sir Knight, Iwill be sworn, when you held drunken vespers with the bluff Hermit.--Butto go on. The merry-men of the forest set off the building of a cottagewith the burning of a castle,--the thatching of a choir against therobbing of a church,--the setting free a poor prisoner against themurder of a proud sheriff; or, to come nearer to our point, thedeliverance of a Saxon franklin against the burning alive of a Normanbaron. Gentle thieves they are, in short, and courteous robbers; but itis ever the luckiest to meet with them when they are at the worst."

  "How so, Wamba?" said the Knight.

  "Why, then they have some compunction, and are for making up matterswith Heaven. But when they have struck an even balance, Heaven help themwith whom they next open the account! The travellers who first metthem after their good service at Torquilstone would have a woefulflaying.--And yet," said Wamba, coming close up to the Knight's side,"there be companions who are far more dangerous for travellers to meetthan yonder outlaws."

  "And who may they be, for you have neither bears nor wolves, I trow?"said the Knight.

  "Marry, sir, but we have Malvoisin's men-at-arms," said Wamba; "and letme tell you, that, in time of civil war, a halfscore of these is wortha band of wolves at any time. They are now expecting their harvest,and are reinforced with the soldiers that escaped from Torquilstone.So that, should we meet with a band of them, we are like to pay for ourfeats of arms.--Now, I pray you, Sir Knight, what would you do if we mettwo of them?"

  "Pin the villains to the earth with my lance, Wamba, if they offered usany impediment."

  "But what if there were four of them?"

  "They should drink of the same cup," answered the Knight.

  "What if six," continued Wamba, "and we as we now are, barely two--wouldyou not remember Locksley's horn?"

  "What! sound for aid," exclaimed the Knight, "against a score of such'rascaille' as these, whom one good knight could drive before him, asthe wind drives the withered leaves?"

  "Nay, then," said Wamba, "I will pray you for a close sight of that samehorn that hath so powerful a breath."

  The Knight undid the clasp of the baldric, and indulged hisfellow-traveller, who immediately hung the bugle round his own neck.

  "Tra-lira-la," said he, whistling the notes; "nay, I know my gamut aswell as another."

  "How mean you, knave?" said the Knight; "restore me the bugle."

  "Content you, Sir Knight, it is in safe keeping. When Valour and Follytravel, Folly should bear the horn, because she can blow the best."

  "Nay but, rogue," said the Black Knight, "this exceedeth thylicense--Beware ye tamper not with my patience."

  "Urge me not with violence, Sir Knight," said the Jester, keeping at adistance from the impatient champion, "or Folly will show a clean pairof heels, and leave Valour to find out his way through the wood as besthe may."

  "Nay, thou hast hit me there," said the Knight; "and, sooth to say, Ihave little time to jangle with thee. Keep the horn an thou wilt, butlet us proceed on our journey."

  "You will not harm me, then?" said Wamba.

  "I tell thee no, thou knave!"

  "Ay, but pledge me your knightly word for it," continued Wamba, as heapproached with great caution.

  "My knightly word I pledge; only come on with thy foolish self."

  "Nay, then, Valour and Folly are once more boon companions," said theJester, coming up frankly to the Knight's side; "but, in truth, I lovenot such buffets as that you bestowed on the burly Friar, when hisholiness rolled on the green like a king of the nine-pins. And now thatFolly wears the horn, let Valour rouse himself, and shake his mane;for, if I mistake not, there are company in yonder brake that are on thelook-out for us."

  "What makes thee judge so?" said the Knight.

  "Because I have twice or thrice noticed the glance of a motion fromamongst the green leaves. Had they been honest men, they had kept thepath. But yonder thicket is a choice chapel for the Clerks of SaintNicholas."

  "By my faith," said the Knight, closing his visor, "I think thou be'stin the right on't."

  And in good time did he close it, for three arrows, flew at the sameinstant from the suspected spot against his head and breast, one ofwhich would have penetrated to the brain, had it not been turned asideby the steel visor. The other two were averted by the gorget, and by theshield which hung around his neck.

  "Thanks, trusty armourers," said the Knight.--"Wamba, let us close withthem,"--and he rode straight to the thicket. He was met by six or sevenmen-at-arms, who ran against him with their lances at full career. Threeof the weapons struck against him, and splintered with as little effectas if they had been driven against a tower of steel. The Black Knight'seyes seemed to flash fire even through the aperture of his visor. Heraised himself in his stirrups with an air of inexpressible dignity, andexclaimed, "What means this, my masters!"--The men made no other replythan by drawing their swords and attacking him on every side, crying,"Die, tyrant!"

  "Ha! Saint Edward! Ha! Saint George!" said the Black Knight, strikingdown a man at every invocation; "have we traitors here?"

  His opponents, desperate as they were, bore back from an arm whichcarried death in every blow, and it seemed as if the terror of hissingle strength was about to gain the battle against such odds, when aknight, in blue armour, who had hitherto kept himself behind the otherassailants, spurred forward with his lance, and taking aim, not at therider but at the steed, wounded the noble animal mortally.

  "That was a felon stroke!" exclaimed the Black Knight, as the steed fellto the earth, bearing his rider along with him.

  And at this moment, Wamba winded the bugle, for the whole had passed sospeedily, that he had not time to do so sooner. The sudden sound madethe murderers bear back once more, and Wamba, though so imperfectlyweaponed, did not hesitate to rush in and assist the Black Knight torise.

  "Shame on ye, false cowards!" exclaimed he in the blue harness, whoseemed to lead the assailants, "do ye fly from the empty blast of a hornblown by a Jester?"

 
Animated by his words, they attacked the Black Knight anew, whose bestrefuge was now to place his back against an oak, and defend himself withhis sword. The felon knight, who had taken another spear, watching themoment when his formidable antagonist was most closely pressed, gallopedagainst him in hopes to nail him with his lance against the tree, whenhis purpose was again intercepted by Wamba. The Jester, making up byagility the want of strength, and little noticed by the men-at-arms, whowere busied in their more important object, hovered on the skirts of thefight, and effectually checked the fatal career of the Blue Knight, byhamstringing his horse with a stroke of his sword. Horse and man went tothe ground; yet the situation of the Knight of the Fetterlock continuedvery precarious, as he was pressed close by several men completelyarmed, and began to be fatigued by the violent exertions necessaryto defend himself on so many points at nearly the same moment, whena grey-goose shaft suddenly stretched on the earth one of the mostformidable of his assailants, and a band of yeomen broke forth from theglade, headed by Locksley and the jovial Friar, who, taking ready andeffectual part in the fray, soon disposed of the ruffians, all of whomlay on the spot dead or mortally wounded. The Black Knight thanked hisdeliverers with a dignity they had not observed in his former bearing,which hitherto had seemed rather that of a blunt bold soldier, than of aperson of exalted rank.

  "It concerns me much," he said, "even before I express my full gratitudeto my ready friends, to discover, if I may, who have been my unprovokedenemies.--Open the visor of that Blue Knight, Wamba, who seems the chiefof these villains."

  The Jester instantly made up to the leader of the assassins, who,bruised by his fall, and entangled under the wounded steed, layincapable either of flight or resistance.

  "Come, valiant sir," said Wamba, "I must be your armourer as well asyour equerry--I have dismounted you, and now I will unhelm you."

  So saying, with no very gentle hand he undid the helmet of the BlueKnight, which, rolling to a distance on the grass, displayed to theKnight of the Fetterlock grizzled locks, and a countenance he did notexpect to have seen under such circumstances.

  "Waldemar Fitzurse!" he said in astonishment; "what could urge one ofthy rank and seeming worth to so foul an undertaking?"

  "Richard," said the captive Knight, looking up to him, "thou knowestlittle of mankind, if thou knowest not to what ambition and revenge canlead every child of Adam."

  "Revenge?" answered the Black Knight; "I never wronged thee--On me thouhast nought to revenge."

  "My daughter, Richard, whose alliance thou didst scorn--was that noinjury to a Norman, whose blood is noble as thine own?"

  "Thy daughter?" replied the Black Knight; "a proper cause of enmity, andfollowed up to a bloody issue!--Stand back, my masters, I would speakto him alone.--And now, Waldemar Fitzurse, say me the truth--confess whoset thee on this traitorous deed."

  "Thy father's son," answered Waldemar, "who, in so doing, did but avengeon thee thy disobedience to thy father."

  Richard's eyes sparkled with indignation, but his better nature overcameit. He pressed his hand against his brow, and remained an instant gazingon the face of the humbled baron, in whose features pride was contendingwith shame.

  "Thou dost not ask thy life, Waldemar," said the King.

  "He that is in the lion's clutch," answered Fitzurse, "knows it wereneedless."

  "Take it, then, unasked," said Richard; "the lion preys not on prostratecarcasses.--Take thy life, but with this condition, that in three daysthou shalt leave England, and go to hide thine infamy in thy Normancastle, and that thou wilt never mention the name of John of Anjou asconnected with thy felony. If thou art found on English ground after thespace I have allotted thee, thou diest--or if thou breathest aughtthat can attaint the honour of my house, by Saint George! not the altaritself shall be a sanctuary. I will hang thee out to feed the ravens,from the very pinnacle of thine own castle.--Let this knight have asteed, Locksley, for I see your yeomen have caught those which wererunning loose, and let him depart unharmed."

  "But that I judge I listen to a voice whose behests must not bedisputed," answered the yeoman, "I would send a shaft after the skulkingvillain that should spare him the labour of a long journey."

  "Thou bearest an English heart, Locksley," said the Black Knight, "andwell dost judge thou art the more bound to obey my behest--I am Richardof England!"

  At these words, pronounced in a tone of majesty suited to the high rank,and no less distinguished character of Coeur-de-Lion, the yeomen at oncekneeled down before him, and at the same time tendered their allegiance,and implored pardon for their offences.

  "Rise, my friends," said Richard, in a gracious tone, looking onthem with a countenance in which his habitual good-humour had alreadyconquered the blaze of hasty resentment, and whose features retained nomark of the late desperate conflict, excepting the flush arising fromexertion,--"Arise," he said, "my friends!--Your misdemeanours, whetherin forest or field, have been atoned by the loyal services you renderedmy distressed subjects before the walls of Torquilstone, and the rescueyou have this day afforded to your sovereign. Arise, my liegemen, and begood subjects in future.--And thou, brave Locksley--"

  "Call me no longer Locksley, my Liege, but know me under the name,which, I fear, fame hath blown too widely not to have reached even yourroyal ears--I am Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest." [561]

  "King of Outlaws, and Prince of good fellows!" said the King, "whohath not heard a name that has been borne as far as Palestine? But beassured, brave Outlaw, that no deed done in our absence, and in theturbulent times to which it hath given rise, shall be remembered to thydisadvantage."

  "True says the proverb," said Wamba, interposing his word, but with someabatement of his usual petulance,--

  "'When the cat is away, The mice will play.'"

  "What, Wamba, art thou there?" said Richard; "I have been so long ofhearing thy voice, I thought thou hadst taken flight."

  "I take flight!" said Wamba; "when do you ever find Folly separated fromValour? There lies the trophy of my sword, that good grey gelding, whomI heartily wish upon his legs again, conditioning his master lay therehoughed in his place. It is true, I gave a little ground at first, fora motley jacket does not brook lance-heads, as a steel doublet will. Butif I fought not at sword's point, you will grant me that I sounded theonset."

  "And to good purpose, honest Wamba," replied the King. "Thy good serviceshall not be forgotten."

  "'Confiteor! Confiteor!'"--exclaimed, in a submissive tone, a voice nearthe King's side--"my Latin will carry me no farther--but I confess mydeadly treason, and pray leave to have absolution before I am led toexecution!"

  Richard looked around, and beheld the jovial Friar on his knees, tellinghis rosary, while his quarter-staff, which had not been idle during theskirmish, lay on the grass beside him. His countenance was gathered soas he thought might best express the most profound contrition, hiseyes being turned up, and the corners of his mouth drawn down, as Wambaexpressed it, like the tassels at the mouth of a purse. Yet this demureaffectation of extreme penitence was whimsically belied by a ludicrousmeaning which lurked in his huge features, and seemed to pronounce hisfear and repentance alike hypocritical.

  "For what art thou cast down, mad Priest?" said Richard; "art thouafraid thy diocesan should learn how truly thou dost serve Our Lady andSaint Dunstan?--Tush, man! fear it not; Richard of England betrays nosecrets that pass over the flagon."

  "Nay, most gracious sovereign," answered the Hermit, (well known to thecurious in penny-histories of Robin Hood, by the name of FriarTuck,) "it is not the crosier I fear, but the sceptre.--Alas! that mysacrilegious fist should ever have been applied to the ear of the Lord'sanointed!"

  "Ha! ha!" said Richard, "sits the wind there?--In truth I had forgottenthe buffet, though mine ear sung after it for a whole day. But if thecuff was fairly given, I will be judged by the good men around, if itwas not as well repaid--or, if thou thinkest I still owe thee aught, andwill stand forth for another counterbuff--"
r />   "By no means," replied Friar Tuck, "I had mine own returned, and withusury--may your Majesty ever pay your debts as fully!"

  "If I could do so with cuffs," said the King, "my creditors should havelittle reason to complain of an empty exchequer."

  "And yet," said the Friar, resuming his demure hypocritical countenance,"I know not what penance I ought to perform for that most sacrilegiousblow!---"

  "Speak no more of it, brother," said the King; "after having stoodso many cuffs from Paynims and misbelievers, I were void of reason toquarrel with the buffet of a clerk so holy as he of Copmanhurst. Yet,mine honest Friar, I think it would be best both for the church andthyself, that I should procure a license to unfrock thee, and retainthee as a yeoman of our guard, serving in care of our person, asformerly in attendance upon the altar of Saint Dunstan."

  "My Liege," said the Friar, "I humbly crave your pardon; and you wouldreadily grant my excuse, did you but know how the sin of laziness hasbeset me. Saint Dunstan--may he be gracious to us!--stands quiet in hisniche, though I should forget my orisons in killing a fat buck--I stayout of my cell sometimes a night, doing I wot not what--Saint Dunstannever complains--a quiet master he is, and a peaceful, as ever was madeof wood.--But to be a yeoman in attendance on my sovereign the King--thehonour is great, doubtless--yet, if I were but to step aside to comforta widow in one corner, or to kill a deer in another, it would be, 'whereis the dog Priest?' says one. 'Who has seen the accursed Tuck?' saysanother. 'The unfrocked villain destroys more venison than half thecountry besides,' says one keeper; 'And is hunting after every shy doein the country!' quoth a second.--In fine, good my Liege, I pray youto leave me as you found me; or, if in aught you desire to extend yourbenevolence to me, that I may be considered as the poor Clerk of SaintDunstan's cell in Copmanhurst, to whom any small donation will be mostthankfully acceptable."

  "I understand thee," said the King, "and the Holy Clerk shall have agrant of vert and venison in my woods of Warncliffe. Mark, however, Iwill but assign thee three bucks every season; but if that do not provean apology for thy slaying thirty, I am no Christian knight nor trueking."

  "Your Grace may be well assured," said the Friar, "that, with thegrace of Saint Dunstan, I shall find the way of multiplying your mostbounteous gift."

  "I nothing doubt it, good brother," said the King; "and as venison isbut dry food, our cellarer shall have orders to deliver to thee a buttof sack, a runlet of Malvoisie, and three hogsheads of ale of the firststrike, yearly--If that will not quench thy thirst, thou must come tocourt, and become acquainted with my butler."

  "But for Saint Dunstan?" said the Friar--

  "A cope, a stole, and an altar-cloth shalt thou also have," continuedthe King, crossing himself--"But we may not turn our game into earnest,lest God punish us for thinking more on our follies than on his honourand worship."

  "I will answer for my patron," said the Priest, joyously.

  "Answer for thyself, Friar," said King Richard, something sternly; butimmediately stretching out his hand to the Hermit, the latter, somewhatabashed, bent his knee, and saluted it. "Thou dost less honour to myextended palm than to my clenched fist," said the Monarch; "thou didstonly kneel to the one, and to the other didst prostrate thyself."

  But the Friar, afraid perhaps of again giving offence by continuingthe conversation in too jocose a style--a false step to be particularlyguarded against by those who converse with monarchs--bowed profoundly,and fell into the rear.

  At the same time, two additional personages appeared on the scene.