Old Mortality & Ivanhoe (Illustrated Edition). Walter Scott

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СКАЧАТЬ holding land of the British crown. — Sir Reginald Front-de-Boeuf,” he said, turning towards that Baron, “I trust you will so keep the goodly Barony of Ivanhoe, that Sir Wilfred shall not incur his father’s farther displeasure by again entering upon that fief.”

      “By St Anthony!” answered the black-brow’d giant, “I will consent that your highness shall hold me a Saxon, if either Cedric or Wilfred, or the best that ever bore English blood, shall wrench from me the gift with which your highness has graced me.”

      “Whoever shall call thee Saxon, Sir Baron,” replied Cedric, offended at a mode of expression by which the Normans frequently expressed their habitual contempt of the English, “will do thee an honour as great as it is undeserved.”

      Front-de-Boeuf would have replied, but Prince John’s petulance and levity got the start.

      “Assuredly,” said be, “my lords, the noble Cedric speaks truth; and his race may claim precedence over us as much in the length of their pedigrees as in the longitude of their cloaks.”

      “They go before us indeed in the field — as deer before dogs,” said Malvoisin.

      “And with good right may they go before us — forget not,” said the Prior Aymer, “the superior decency and decorum of their manners.”

      “Their singular abstemiousness and temperance,” said De Bracy, forgetting the plan which promised him a Saxon bride.

      “Together with the courage and conduct,” said Brian de Bois-Guilbert, “by which they distinguished themselves at Hastings and elsewhere.”

      While, with smooth and smiling cheek, the courtiers, each in turn, followed their Prince’s example, and aimed a shaft of ridicule at Cedric, the face of the Saxon became inflamed with passion, and he glanced his eyes fiercely from one to another, as if the quick succession of so many injuries had prevented his replying to them in turn; or, like a baited bull, who, surrounded by his tormentors, is at a loss to choose from among them the immediate object of his revenge. At length he spoke, in a voice half choked with passion; and, addressing himself to Prince John as the head and front of the offence which he had received, “Whatever,” he said, “have been the follies and vices of our race, a Saxon would have been held nidering,” ²⁰ (the most emphatic term for abject worthlessness,) “who should in his own hall, and while his own wine-cup passed, have treated, or suffered to be treated, an unoffending guest as your highness has this day beheld me used; and whatever was the misfortune of our fathers on the field of Hastings, those may at least be silent,” here he looked at Front-de-Boeuf and the Templar, “who have within these few hours once and again lost saddle and stirrup before the lance of a Saxon.”

      “By my faith, a biting jest!” said Prince John. “How like you it, sirs? — Our Saxon subjects rise in spirit and courage; become shrewd in wit, and bold in bearing, in these unsettled times — What say ye, my lords? — By this good light, I hold it best to take our galleys, and return to Normandy in time.”

      “For fear of the Saxons?” said De Bracy, laughing; “we should need no weapon but our hunting spears to bring these boars to bay.”

      “A truce with your raillery, Sir Knights,” said Fitzurse; — “and it were well,” he added, addressing the Prince, “that your highness should assure the worthy Cedric there is no insult intended him by jests, which must sound but harshly in the ear of a stranger.”

      “Insult?” answered Prince John, resuming his courtesy of demeanour; “I trust it will not be thought that I could mean, or permit any, to be offered in my presence. Here! I fill my cup to Cedric himself, since he refuses to pledge his son’s health.”

      The cup went round amid the well-dissembled applause of the courtiers, which, however, failed to make the impression on the mind of the Saxon that had been designed. He was not naturally acute of perception, but those too much undervalued his understanding who deemed that this flattering compliment would obliterate the sense of the prior insult. He was silent, however, when the royal pledge again passed round, “To Sir Athelstane of Coningsburgh.”

      The knight made his obeisance, and showed his sense of the honour by draining a huge goblet in answer to it.

      “And now, sirs,” said Prince John, who began to be warmed with the wine which he had drank, “having done justice to our Saxon guests, we will pray of them some requital to our courtesy. — Worthy Thane,” he continued, addressing Cedric, “may we pray you to name to us some Norman whose mention may least sully your mouth, and to wash down with a goblet of wine all bitterness which the sound may leave behind it?”

      Fitzurse arose while Prince John spoke, and gliding behind the seat of the Saxon, whispered to him not to omit the opportunity of putting an end to unkindness betwixt the two races, by naming Prince John. The Saxon replied not to this politic insinuation, but, rising up, and filling his cup to the brim, be addressed Prince John in these words: “Your highness has required that I should name a Norman deserving to be remembered at our banquet. This, perchance, is a hard task, since it calls on the slave to sing the praises of the master — upon the vanquished, while pressed by all the evils of conquest, to sing the praises of the conqueror. Yet I will name a Norman — the first in arms and in place — the best and the noblest of his race. And the lips that shall refuse to pledge me to his well-earned fame, I term false and dishonoured, and will so maintain them with my life. — I quaff this goblet to the health of Richard the Lion-hearted!”

      Prince John, who had expected that his own name would have closed the Saxon’s speech, started when that of his injured brother was so unexpectedly introduced. He raised mechanically the wine-cup to his lips, then instantly set it down, to view the demeanour of the company at this unexpected proposal, which many of them felt it as unsafe to oppose as to comply with. Some of them, ancient and experienced courtiers, closely imitated the example of the Prince himself, raising the goblet to their lips, and again replacing it before them. There were many who, with a more generous feeling, exclaimed, “Long live King Richard! and may he be speedily restored to us!” And some few, among whom were Front-de-Boeuf and the Templar, in sullen disdain suffered their goblets to stand untasted before them. But no man ventured directly to gainsay a pledge filled to the health of the reigning monarch.

      Having enjoyed his triumph for about a minute, Cedric said to his companion, “Up, noble Athelstane! we have remained here long enough, since we have requited the hospitable courtesy of Prince John’s banquet. Those who wish to know further of our rude Saxon manners must henceforth seek us in the homes of our fathers, since we have seen enough of royal banquets, and enough of Norman courtesy.”

      So saying, he arose and left the banqueting room, followed by Athelstane, and by several other guests, who, partaking of the Saxon lineage, held themselves insulted by the sarcasms of Prince John and his courtiers.

      “By the bones of St Thomas,” said Prince John, as they retreated, “the Saxon churls have borne off the best of the day, and have retreated with triumph!”

      “Conclamatum est, poculatum est,” said Prior Aymer; “we have drunk and we have shouted, — it were time we left our wine flagons.”

      “The monk hath some fair penitent to shrive to-night, that he is in such a hurry to depart,” said De Bracy.

      “Not so, Sir Knight,” replied the Abbot; “but I must move several miles forward this evening upon my homeward journey.”

      “They are breaking up,” said the Prince in a whisper to Fitzurse; “their fears anticipate the event, СКАЧАТЬ