Ivanhoe: A Romance

  CHAPTER IX

  ----In the midst was seen A lady of a more majestic mien, By stature and by beauty mark'd their sovereign Queen. * * * * * And as in beauty she surpass'd the choir, So nobler than the rest was her attire; A crown of ruddy gold enclosed her brow, Plain without pomp, and rich without a show; A branch of Agnus Castus in her hand, She bore aloft her symbol of command. The Flower and the Leaf

  William de Wyvil and Stephen de Martival, the marshals of the field,were the first to offer their congratulations to the victor, prayinghim, at the same time, to suffer his helmet to be unlaced, or, at least,that he would raise his visor ere they conducted him to receivethe prize of the day's tourney from the hands of Prince John. TheDisinherited Knight, with all knightly courtesy, declined their request,alleging, that he could not at this time suffer his face to be seen, forreasons which he had assigned to the heralds when he entered the lists.The marshals were perfectly satisfied by this reply; for amidst thefrequent and capricious vows by which knights were accustomed to bindthemselves in the days of chivalry, there were none more common thanthose by which they engaged to remain incognito for a certain space, oruntil some particular adventure was achieved. The marshals, therefore,pressed no farther into the mystery of the Disinherited Knight, but,announcing to Prince John the conqueror's desire to remain unknown, theyrequested permission to bring him before his Grace, in order that hemight receive the reward of his valour.

  John's curiosity was excited by the mystery observed by the stranger;and, being already displeased with the issue of the tournament, in whichthe challengers whom he favoured had been successively defeated by oneknight, he answered haughtily to the marshals, "By the light of OurLady's brow, this same knight hath been disinherited as well of hiscourtesy as of his lands, since he desires to appear before us withoutuncovering his face.--Wot ye, my lords," he said, turning round to histrain, "who this gallant can be, that bears himself thus proudly?"

  "I cannot guess," answered De Bracy, "nor did I think there had beenwithin the four seas that girth Britain a champion that could bear downthese five knights in one day's jousting. By my faith, I shall neverforget the force with which he shocked De Vipont. The poor Hospitallerwas hurled from his saddle like a stone from a sling."

  "Boast not of that," said a Knight of St John, who was present;"your Temple champion had no better luck. I saw your brave lance,Bois-Guilbert, roll thrice over, grasping his hands full of sand atevery turn."

  De Bracy, being attached to the Templars, would have replied, but wasprevented by Prince John. "Silence, sirs!" he said; "what unprofitabledebate have we here?"

  "The victor," said De Wyvil, "still waits the pleasure of yourhighness."

  "It is our pleasure," answered John, "that he do so wait until we learnwhether there is not some one who can at least guess at his name andquality. Should he remain there till night-fall, he has had work enoughto keep him warm."

  "Your Grace," said Waldemar Fitzurse, "will do less than due honour tothe victor, if you compel him to wait till we tell your highness thatwhich we cannot know; at least I can form no guess--unless he be one ofthe good lances who accompanied King Richard to Palestine, and who arenow straggling homeward from the Holy Land."

  "It may be the Earl of Salisbury," said De Bracy; "he is about the samepitch."

  "Sir Thomas de Multon, the Knight of Gilsland, rather," said Fitzurse;"Salisbury is bigger in the bones." A whisper arose among the train,but by whom first suggested could not be ascertained. "It might be theKing--it might be Richard Coeur-de-Lion himself!"

  "Over God's forbode!" said Prince John, involuntarily turning at thesame time as pale as death, and shrinking as if blighted by a flash oflightning; "Waldemar!--De Bracy! brave knights and gentlemen, rememberyour promises, and stand truly by me!"

  "Here is no danger impending," said Waldemar Fitzurse; "are you solittle acquainted with the gigantic limbs of your father's son, asto think they can be held within the circumference of yonder suitof armour?--De Wyvil and Martival, you will best serve the Prince bybringing forward the victor to the throne, and ending an error that hasconjured all the blood from his cheeks.--Look at him more closely," hecontinued, "your highness will see that he wants three inches of KingRichard's height, and twice as much of his shoulder-breadth. The veryhorse he backs, could not have carried the ponderous weight of KingRichard through a single course."

  While he was yet speaking, the marshals brought forward the DisinheritedKnight to the foot of a wooden flight of steps, which formed the ascentfrom the lists to Prince John's throne. Still discomposed with the ideathat his brother, so much injured, and to whom he was so much indebted,had suddenly arrived in his native kingdom, even the distinctionspointed out by Fitzurse did not altogether remove the Prince'sapprehensions; and while, with a short and embarrassed eulogy upon hisvalour, he caused to be delivered to him the war-horse assigned as theprize, he trembled lest from the barred visor of the mailed form beforehim, an answer might be returned, in the deep and awful accents ofRichard the Lion-hearted.

  But the Disinherited Knight spoke not a word in reply to the complimentof the Prince, which he only acknowledged with a profound obeisance.

  The horse was led into the lists by two grooms richly dressed, theanimal itself being fully accoutred with the richest war-furniture;which, however, scarcely added to the value of the noble creature in theeyes of those who were judges. Laying one hand upon the pommel of thesaddle, the Disinherited Knight vaulted at once upon the back of thesteed without making use of the stirrup, and, brandishing aloft hislance, rode twice around the lists, exhibiting the points and paces ofthe horse with the skill of a perfect horseman.

  The appearance of vanity, which might otherwise have been attributed tothis display, was removed by the propriety shown in exhibiting to thebest advantage the princely reward with which he had been just honoured,and the Knight was again greeted by the acclamations of all present.

  In the meanwhile, the bustling Prior of Jorvaulx had reminded PrinceJohn, in a whisper, that the victor must now display his good judgment,instead of his valour, by selecting from among the beauties who gracedthe galleries a lady, who should fill the throne of the Queen of Beautyand of Love, and deliver the prize of the tourney upon the ensuing day.The Prince accordingly made a sign with his truncheon, as the Knightpassed him in his second career around the lists. The Knight turnedtowards the throne, and, sinking his lance, until the point was withina foot of the ground, remained motionless, as if expecting John'scommands; while all admired the sudden dexterity with which he instantlyreduced his fiery steed from a state of violent emotion and highexcitation to the stillness of an equestrian statue.

  "Sir Disinherited Knight," said Prince John, "since that is the onlytitle by which we can address you, it is now your duty, as well asprivilege, to name the fair lady, who, as Queen of Honour and of Love,is to preside over next day's festival. If, as a stranger in our land,you should require the aid of other judgment to guide your own, wecan only say that Alicia, the daughter of our gallant knight WaldemarFitzurse, has at our court been long held the first in beauty as inplace. Nevertheless, it is your undoubted prerogative to confer on whomyou please this crown, by the delivery of which to the lady ofyour choice, the election of to-morrow's Queen will be formal andcomplete.--Raise your lance."

  The Knight obeyed; and Prince John placed upon its point a coronet ofgreen satin, having around its edge a circlet of gold, the upper edgeof which was relieved by arrow-points and hearts placed interchangeably,like the strawberry leaves and balls upon a ducal crown.

  In the broad hint which he dropped respecting the daughter of WaldemarFitzurse, John had more than one motive, each the offspring of a mind,which was a strange mixture of carelessness and presumption with lowartifice and cunning. He wished to banish from the minds of the chivalryaround him his own indecent and unacceptable jest respecting the JewessRebecca; he was desirous of conciliating Alicia's father Waldemar,of whom he stood in
awe, and who had more than once shown himselfdissatisfied during the course of the day's proceedings. He had also awish to establish himself in the good graces of the lady; for John wasat least as licentious in his pleasures as profligate in his ambition.But besides all these reasons, he was desirous to raise up againstthe Disinherited Knight (towards whom he already entertained a strongdislike) a powerful enemy in the person of Waldemar Fitzurse, who waslikely, he thought, highly to resent the injury done to his daughter, incase, as was not unlikely, the victor should make another choice.

  And so indeed it proved. For the Disinherited Knight passed the galleryclose to that of the Prince, in which the Lady Alicia was seated in thefull pride of triumphant beauty, and, pacing forwards as slowly as hehad hitherto rode swiftly around the lists, he seemed to exercise hisright of examining the numerous fair faces which adorned that splendidcircle.

  It was worth while to see the different conduct of the beauties whounderwent this examination, during the time it was proceeding. Someblushed, some assumed an air of pride and dignity, some looked straightforward, and essayed to seem utterly unconscious of what was going on,some drew back in alarm, which was perhaps affected, some endeavoured toforbear smiling, and there were two or three who laughed outright. Therewere also some who dropped their veils over their charms; but, as theWardour Manuscript says these were fair ones of ten years standing, itmay be supposed that, having had their full share of such vanities, theywere willing to withdraw their claim, in order to give a fair chance tothe rising beauties of the age.

  At length the champion paused beneath the balcony in which the LadyRowena was placed, and the expectation of the spectators was excited tothe utmost.

  It must be owned, that if an interest displayed in his success couldhave bribed the Disinherited Knight, the part of the lists before whichhe paused had merited his predilection. Cedric the Saxon, overjoyed atthe discomfiture of the Templar, and still more so at the miscarriage ofhis two malevolent neighbours, Front-de-Boeuf and Malvoisin, had, withhis body half stretched over the balcony, accompanied the victor in eachcourse, not with his eyes only, but with his whole heart and soul. TheLady Rowena had watched the progress of the day with equal attention,though without openly betraying the same intense interest. Even theunmoved Athelstane had shown symptoms of shaking off his apathy, when,calling for a huge goblet of muscadine, he quaffed it to the healthof the Disinherited Knight. Another group, stationed under the galleryoccupied by the Saxons, had shown no less interest in the fate of theday.

  "Father Abraham!" said Isaac of York, when the first course was runbetwixt the Templar and the Disinherited Knight, "how fiercely thatGentile rides! Ah, the good horse that was brought all the long wayfrom Barbary, he takes no more care of him than if he were a wild ass'scolt--and the noble armour, that was worth so many zecchins to JosephPareira, the armourer of Milan, besides seventy in the hundred ofprofits, he cares for it as little as if he had found it in thehighways!"

  "If he risks his own person and limbs, father," said Rebecca, "in doingsuch a dreadful battle, he can scarce be expected to spare his horse andarmour."

  "Child!" replied Isaac, somewhat heated, "thou knowest not what thouspeakest--His neck and limbs are his own, but his horse and armourbelong to--Holy Jacob! what was I about to say!--Nevertheless, it isa good youth--See, Rebecca! see, he is again about to go up to battleagainst the Philistine--Pray, child--pray for the safety of the goodyouth,--and of the speedy horse, and the rich armour.--God of myfathers!" he again exclaimed, "he hath conquered, and the uncircumcisedPhilistine hath fallen before his lance,--even as Og the King ofBashan, and Sihon, King of the Amorites, fell before the sword of ourfathers!--Surely he shall take their gold and their silver, and theirwar-horses, and their armour of brass and of steel, for a prey and for aspoil."

  The same anxiety did the worthy Jew display during every course that wasrun, seldom failing to hazard a hasty calculation concerning the valueof the horse and armour which was forfeited to the champion upon eachnew success. There had been therefore no small interest taken in thesuccess of the Disinherited Knight, by those who occupied the part ofthe lists before which he now paused.

  Whether from indecision, or some other motive of hesitation, thechampion of the day remained stationary for more than a minute, whilethe eyes of the silent audience were riveted upon his motions; and then,gradually and gracefully sinking the point of his lance, he depositedthe coronet which it supported at the feet of the fair Rowena. Thetrumpets instantly sounded, while the heralds proclaimed the Lady Rowenathe Queen of Beauty and of Love for the ensuing day, menacing withsuitable penalties those who should be disobedient to her authority.They then repeated their cry of Largesse, to which Cedric, in the heightof his joy, replied by an ample donative, and to which Athelstane,though less promptly, added one equally large.

  There was some murmuring among the damsels of Norman descent, who wereas much unused to see the preference given to a Saxon beauty, as theNorman nobles were to sustain defeat in the games of chivalry which theythemselves had introduced. But these sounds of disaffection were drownedby the popular shout of "Long live the Lady Rowena, the chosen andlawful Queen of Love and of Beauty!" To which many in the lower areaadded, "Long live the Saxon Princess! long live the race of the immortalAlfred!"

  However unacceptable these sounds might be to Prince John, and tothose around him, he saw himself nevertheless obliged to confirm thenomination of the victor, and accordingly calling to horse, he lefthis throne; and mounting his jennet, accompanied by his train, he againentered the lists. The Prince paused a moment beneath the gallery ofthe Lady Alicia, to whom he paid his compliments, observing, at the sametime, to those around him--"By my halidome, sirs! if the Knight's featsin arms have shown that he hath limbs and sinews, his choice hath noless proved that his eyes are none of the clearest."

  It was on this occasion, as during his whole life, John's misfortune,not perfectly to understand the characters of those whom he wished toconciliate. Waldemar Fitzurse was rather offended than pleased at thePrince stating thus broadly an opinion, that his daughter had beenslighted.

  "I know no right of chivalry," he said, "more precious or inalienablethan that of each free knight to choose his lady-love by his ownjudgment. My daughter courts distinction from no one; and in her owncharacter, and in her own sphere, will never fail to receive the fullproportion of that which is her due."

  Prince John replied not; but, spurring his horse, as if to give ventto his vexation, he made the animal bound forward to the gallery whereRowena was seated, with the crown still at her feet.

  "Assume," he said, "fair lady, the mark of your sovereignty, to whichnone vows homage more sincerely than ourself, John of Anjou; and ifit please you to-day, with your noble sire and friends, to grace ourbanquet in the Castle of Ashby, we shall learn to know the empress towhose service we devote to-morrow."

  Rowena remained silent, and Cedric answered for her in his native Saxon.

  "The Lady Rowena," he said, "possesses not the language in which toreply to your courtesy, or to sustain her part in your festival. I also,and the noble Athelstane of Coningsburgh, speak only the language, andpractise only the manners, of our fathers. We therefore decline withthanks your Highness's courteous invitation to the banquet. To-morrow,the Lady Rowena will take upon her the state to which she has beencalled by the free election of the victor Knight, confirmed by theacclamations of the people."

  So saying, he lifted the coronet, and placed it upon Rowena's head, intoken of her acceptance of the temporary authority assigned to her.

  "What says he?" said Prince John, affecting not to understand theSaxon language, in which, however, he was well skilled. The purport ofCedric's speech was repeated to him in French. "It is well," he said;"to-morrow we will ourself conduct this mute sovereign to her seat ofdignity.--You, at least, Sir Knight," he added, turning to the victor,who had remained near the gallery, "will this day share our banquet?"

  The Knight, speaking for the first time, in
a low and hurried voice,excused himself by pleading fatigue, and the necessity of preparing forto-morrow's encounter.

  "It is well," said Prince John, haughtily; "although unused to suchrefusals, we will endeavour to digest our banquet as we may, thoughungraced by the most successful in arms, and his elected Queen ofBeauty."

  So saying, he prepared to leave the lists with his glittering train, andhis turning his steed for that purpose, was the signal for the breakingup and dispersion of the spectators.

  Yet, with the vindictive memory proper to offended pride, especiallywhen combined with conscious want of desert, John had hardly proceededthree paces, ere again, turning around, he fixed an eye of sternresentment upon the yeoman who had displeased him in the early part ofthe day, and issued his commands to the men-at-arms who stood near--"Onyour life, suffer not that fellow to escape."

  The yeoman stood the angry glance of the Prince with the same unvariedsteadiness which had marked his former deportment, saying, with a smile,"I have no intention to leave Ashby until the day after to-morrow--Imust see how Staffordshire and Leicestershire can draw their bows--theforests of Needwood and Charnwood must rear good archers."

  "I," said Prince John to his attendants, but not in direct reply,--"Iwill see how he can draw his own; and woe betide him unless his skillshould prove some apology for his insolence!"

  "It is full time," said De Bracy, "that the 'outrecuidance' [19] ofthese peasants should be restrained by some striking example."

  Waldemar Fitzurse, who probably thought his patron was not taking thereadiest road to popularity, shrugged up his shoulders and was silent.Prince John resumed his retreat from the lists, and the dispersion ofthe multitude became general.

  In various routes, according to the different quarters from whichthey came, and in groups of various numbers, the spectators were seenretiring over the plain. By far the most numerous part streamed towardsthe town of Ashby, where many of the distinguished persons were lodgedin the castle, and where others found accommodation in the town itself.Among these were most of the knights who had already appeared in thetournament, or who proposed to fight there the ensuing day, and who, asthey rode slowly along, talking over the events of the day, were greetedwith loud shouts by the populace. The same acclamations were bestowedupon Prince John, although he was indebted for them rather to thesplendour of his appearance and train, than to the popularity of hischaracter.

  A more sincere and more general, as well as a better-meritedacclamation, attended the victor of the day, until, anxious to withdrawhimself from popular notice, he accepted the accommodation of one ofthose pavilions pitched at the extremities of the lists, the use ofwhich was courteously tendered him by the marshals of the field. On hisretiring to his tent, many who had lingered in the lists, to look uponand form conjectures concerning him, also dispersed.

  The signs and sounds of a tumultuous concourse of men lately crowdedtogether in one place, and agitated by the same passing events, were nowexchanged for the distant hum of voices of different groups retreatingin all directions, and these speedily died away in silence. No othersounds were heard save the voices of the menials who stripped thegalleries of their cushions and tapestry, in order to put them in safetyfor the night, and wrangled among themselves for the half-used bottlesof wine and relics of the refreshment which had been served round to thespectators.

  Beyond the precincts of the lists more than one forge was erected; andthese now began to glimmer through the twilight, announcing the toil ofthe armourers, which was to continue through the whole night, in orderto repair or alter the suits of armour to be used again on the morrow.

  A strong guard of men-at-arms, renewed at intervals, from two hours totwo hours, surrounded the lists, and kept watch during the night.