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fall before this lance ? Remember the lists beheld it, reeled in his saddle, lost his at Acrem-remember the Passage of Arms at stirrups, and fell in the lists. Ashby--remember thy proud vaunt in the “ Ivanhoe, extricating himself from his halls of Rotherwood, and the gage of your fallen horse, was soon on foot, hastening to gold chain against my reliquary, that thou mend bis fortune with his sword; but his wouldst do battle with Wilfrid of Ivanhoe, antagonist arose not. Wilfrid, placing his and recover the honour thou hadst lost! By foot on his breast, and the sword's point to that reliquary, and the holy relique it con- his throat, commanded him to yield him, or tains, I will proclaim thee, Templar, a die on the spot. Bois-Guilbert returned no coward in every court in Europe-in every Preceptory of thine Order-unless thou do
him not, Sir Knight,' cried the battle without farther delay.'
Grand Master, 'unshriven and unabsolved “ Bois-Guilbert turned his countenance -kill not body and soul. We allow him irresolutely towards Rebecca, and then ex- vanquished.' claimed, looking fiercely at Ivanhoe, · Dog “ He descended into the lists, and comof a Saxon ! take thy lance, and prepare for manded them to unhelm the conquered the death thou hast drawn upon thee!' champion. His eyes were closed the dark
“ • Does the Grand Master allow me the red flush was still on his brow. As they combat ?' said Ivanhoe.
looked on him in astonishment, the eyes "I may not deny what you have chal- opened_but they were fixed and glazed. lenged,' said the Grand Master, providing The flush passed from his brow, and gave the maiden accepts thee as her champion. way to the pallid hue of death. Unscathed Yet I would thou were in better plight to by the lance of his enemy, he had died a do battle. An enemy of our Order hast victim to the violence of his own contend. thou ever been, yet would I have thee ho- ing passions. nourably met with.'
«• This is indeed the judgment of God,' “ • Thus--thus as I am, and nototherwise,' said the Grand Master, looking upwards said Ivanhoe ; . it is the judgment of God • Fiat voluntas tua!'" -to his keeping I commend himself.--Re. Immediately after the death of Boisbecca,' said he, riding up to the fatal chair, Guilbert, King Richard arrives at • doest thou accept of me for thy champion ?' the preceptory-for he too has heard
"** I do,” she said.— I do,' fluttered by of the danger of Rebecca, and an emotion which the fear of death had been unable to produce, I do accept thee believing, Ivanhoe to be still disaas the champion whom Heaven hath sent bled by his wounds, has come himYet, no-no-thy wounds are un
self to reak a spear in her cause. cured.Meet not that proud man---why Amidst the tumult of the royal arshouldst thou perish also ?'
rival, and amidst the still greater tu“ But Ivanhoe was already at his post, mult of her own emotions, the maiden and had closed his visor, and assumed his prays her father to remove her-for lance. Bois-Guilbert did the same ; and she is afraid of many things most of his esquire remarked, as he clasped his visor, all, she is afraid that she might say that his face, which had, notwithstanding the variety of emotions by which he had too much were she to trust herself to been agitated, continued during the whole speak with her deliverer. morning of an ashy paleness, was now be- On his way to Templestowe, King come suddenly very much flushed. Richard has been beset by a party of
“ The herald, then, seeing each cham assassins—the instruments of his bropion in his place, uplifted his voice, repeat ther's meanness--and has escaped from ing thrice-Faites vos devoirs, preux che- them chiefly by means of Robin Hood valiers. After the third cry, he withdrew and his archers, who happened to be to one side of the lists, and again proclaim
near them in the wood. It is attended, that none, on peril of instant death, should dare, by word, cry, or action, to ined by these outlaws as his bodyterfere with or disturb this fair field of com guard, that Caur de Lion re-assumes bat. The Grand Master, who held in his the state and title of his birth-right; hand the gage of battle, Rebecca’s glove, and one of his first acts is to reward now threw it into the lists, and pronounced his faithful friend and follower, Ivanthe fatal signal words, Laissez aller. “ The trumpets sounded, and the knights graces of his father, and celebrating
hoe, by restoring him to the good charged each other in full career. The wearied horse of Ivanhoe, and its no less his marriage with the Lady Rowena. exhausted rider, went down, as all had ex
But we cannot enter upon the minor pected, before the well aimed lance and vi- parts of the Romance-The eye of the gorous steed of the Templar. This issue of reader still follows Rebacca. the combat all had expected ; but although “ It was upon the second morning after the spear of Ivanhoe did but, in comparison, this happy bridal, that the Lady Rowena touch the shield of Bois-Guilbert, that was made acquainted by her hand-maid champion, to the astonishment of all who Elgitha, that a damsel desired admission to
her presence, and solicited that their parley dove.Issachar an over-laboured drudge, might be without witness. Rowena won- which stoops between two burthens. Not dered, hesitated, became curious, and ended in a land of war and blood, surrounded by commanding the damsel to be admitted, by hostile neighbours, and distracted by and her attendants to withdraw.
internal factions, can Israel hope to rest “ She entered-a noble and commanding during her wanderings.' figure, the long white veil in which she was “ . But you, maiden,' said Rowena shrouded, overshadowing rather than con- you surely can have nothing to fear. She cealing the elegance and majesty of her who nursed the sick-bed of Ivanhoe,' she shape. Her demeanour was that of respect, continued, rising with enthusiasm she unmingled by the least shade either of fear,
hing to fear in England, where or of a wish to propitiate favour. Rowena Saxon and Norman will contend who shall was ever ready to acknowledge the claims, most do her honour.' and attend to the feelings of others. She “ • Thy speech is fair, lady,' said Rearose, and would have conducted the lovely becca, and thy purpose fairer; but it may stranger to a seat, but she looked at Elgi- not be there is a gulph betwixt us. Our tha, and again intimated a wish to dis- breeding, our faith, alike forbid either to course with the Lady Rowena alone. El. pass over it. Farewell-yet, e'er I go, ingitha had no sooner retired with unwilling dulge me one request. The bridal-veil steps, than, to the surprise of the Lady of hangs over thy face ; raise it, and let me Ivanhoe, her fair visitant kneeled on one see the features of which fame speaks so knee, pressed her hands to her forehead, highly.' and bending her head to the ground, in They are scarce worthy of being look. spite of Rowena's resistance, kissed the em- ed upon,' said Rowena; but, expecting broidered hem of her tunic.
the same from my visitant, I remove the " " What means this?' said the sur. veil.' prised bride ; or why do you offer to me “ She took it off accordingly, and partly a deference so unusual ?
from the consciousness of beauty, partly from “ • Because to you, Lady of Ivanhoe,' bashfulness, she blushed so intensely, that said Rebecca, rising up and resuming the cheek, brow, neck, and bosom, were sufusual quiet dignity of her manner, 'I may fused with crimson. Rebecca blushed also, lawfully and without rebuke pay. the but it was a momentary feeling; and, masdebt of gratitude which I owe to Wilfrid of tered by higher emotions, past slowly from Ivanhoe. I am-forgive the boldness which her features like the crimson cloud, which has offered to you the homage of my coun- changes colour when the sun sinks beneath try-I am the unhappy Jewess, for whom the horizon. your husband hazarded his life against such • Lady,' she said, “ the countenance fearful odds in the tilt-yard of Temple- you have deigned to shew me will long stowe.'
dwell in my remembrance. There reigns " " Damsel,' said Rowena ; • Wilfrid of in it gentleness and goodness ; and if a tinge Ivanhoe on that day rendered back but in of the world's pride or vanities may mix slight measure your unceasing charity to- with an expression so lovely, how may we wards him in his wounds and misfortunes.. chide that which is of earth for bearing some Speak, is there aught remains in which he colour of its original ? Long, long will I and I can serve thee?'
remember your features, and
bless God that Nothing, said Rebecca, calmly, “un- I leave my noble deliverer united with'. less you will transmit to him my grateful “She stopped short-her eyes filled with farewell."
She hastily wiped them, and an"• You leave England, then,' said Row. swered to the anxious enquiries of Rowena enå, scarce recovering the surprise of this - I am well, lady-well. But my heart extraordinary visit.
swells when I think of Torquilistone and * • I leave it, lady, ere this moon again the lists of Templestowe.--Farewell
. One, changes. My father hath a brother high the most trifling part of my duty, remains in favour with Mohammed Boabdil, King undischarged. Accept this casket-startle of Grenada—thither we go, secure of peace not at its contents. and protection, for the payment of such “ Rowena opened the small silver-chased ransom as the Moslem exact from our peo- casket, and perceived a carcanet, or neck
lace, with ear-jewels, of diamonds, which “And are you not then as well pro-. were visibly of immense value. tected in England ?' said Rebecca.
• It is impossible,” she said, tendering husband has favour with the King—the back the casket. “ I dare not accept a gift King himself is just and generous.'
of such consequence. “ Lady,' said Rebecca, I doubt it " Yet keep it, lady,' returned Rebecca not-but the people of England are a fierce - You have power, rank, command, inrace, quarrelling ever with their neighbours Auence ; we have wealth, the source both or among themselves, and ready to plunge of our strength and weakness; the value of the sword into the bowels of each other. these toys, ten times multiplied, would not Such is no safe abode for the children of influence half so much as your slightest my people. Ephraim is an heartless wish. To you, therefore, the gift is of little
value and to me, what I part with is of ly chosen, for nothing could have much less. Let me not think you deem so given the reader so powerfully the wretchedly ill of my nation as your com.
idea of a period full of bustle and tumons believe. Think ye that I prize these
mult-wherein the interest depended sparkling fragments of stone above my li. berty ? or that my father values them in
so much upon collisions of external comparison to the honour of his only child ? strength, and the disarray of conflictAccept them, lady-to me they are value- ing passions. less. I will never wear jewels more.' One word only before we close,
“. You are then unhappy,' said Rowena, concerning the humorous parts of this struck with the manner in which Rebecca novel, in which it will at once be seen uttered the last words. •0, remain with
- our author has followed a new mode us—the counsel of holy men will wean you
of composition. Not being able, as in from your unhappy law, and I will be a sister to you.'
former instances, to paint from existing “ 'No, lady,' answered Rebecca, the same nature, and to delight the reader with calm melancholy reigning in her soft voice
a faithful delineation of what was, in and beautiful features that may not be. some measure, already known to him, I may not change the faith of my fathers he is obliged more frequently to resort like a garment unsuited to the climate in
to a play of fancy in his humorous which I seek to dwell, and unhappy, lady, dialogue, which generally flows in a I will not be. He, to whom I dedicate my
truly jovial and free-hearted style, future life, will be my comforter, if I do His
worthy of merry England. Nor is “ Have you then convents, to one of the flagon or the pasty on any ocwhich you mean to retire ?' asked Rowena. casion spared ; for otherwise it would " • No, lady, said the Jewess ;
be difficult to conceive how his stalamong our people, since the time of Abra- wart friars, archers, and other ableham downward, have been women who bodied characters, could go through have devoted their thoughts to Heaven, the fatigues ascribed to them, or susand their actions to works of kindness to
tain such men, tending the sick, feeding the hungry, santness on all occasions — in the
a genial vein of pleaand relieving the distressed. Among these
midst of the knocks and blows which will Rebecca be numbered. Say this to thy lord, should he enquire after the fate
are throughout the tale distributed on of her whose life he saved.'
all hands, with an English fulness There was an involuntary tremor in Re- both as to quality and quantity. This becca's voice, and a tenderness of accent, mixture of cuffs and good cheer, so which perhaps betrayed more than she characteristic of the age, seems to have would willingly have expressed. She has- kept up their animal spirits, and rentened to bid Rowena adieu.
dered them fit to move lightly and 66 • Farewell,' she said. "May He, who made both Jew and Christian, shower down happily in that stormy sphere of ac
tion where force was law. on you his choicest blessings ! The bark that wafts us hence will be under weigh
On the whole, we have no doubt e'er we can reach the port.' ”
this Romance will be in the highest Such is the main thread of the story degree popular here, but still more so of Ivanhoe. It is intermingled with in England. Surely the hearts of our many beautiful accompaniments both neighbours will rejoice within them, of a serious and a ludicrous nature- when they find that their own ancient woven with it and each other some- manners are about to be embalmed, as what after the wild phantastic manner we have no doubt they will be in many of Ariosto-all admirable in them- succeeding novels by the same masselves, but for the present forbidden terly hand, which has already conferground to us. The style in which red services in that sort so inestimable the adventures of so many different individuals are all brought down to
As we hinted at the beginning of gether pari passu, may appear to many this paper, we should not be surprised as a defect-for in these days all read to find the generality of readers disapers have formed a taste for having pointed a little at first; but their eyes their feelings excited in the strongest will soon become accustomed to the possible manner. And for this pur- new and beautiful light through which pose, it is necessary that their atten- the face of NATURE is now submitted tion and interest should throughout to them, and confess that the great be directed and attached to one predo- Magician has not diminished the minating hero. But the style we power of his spell by extending his think has, in this instance, been wise circle.
EXTRACTS FROM THE
HISTORIA MAJOR” OF MATTHEW PARIS, MONK OF
(Continued from page 88.) A. D. 1090.
perfidy." When the knight heard Character and Anecdotes of Malcolm, these words, being struck as by a thunKing of Scotland.
derbolt, he hastily dismounted from
his horse, and throwing aside his weaAs we have made mention of king pons, fell at the royal feet, with tears Malcolm, I shall take upon me to and trembling. “ Fear nothing," said shew, in few words, with what tem- the king, “ for no evil will I do unto per and moderation he was gifted. thee;" and thereupon, having requirHaving learned from an informer that ed of him only a promise of future one of his principal nobles had con- fealty, to be confirmed by oath, and spired with the enemy for his death, proper pledges for the same, he rehe ordered the accuser to keep silence, turned with him, in good time, to their and waited quietly till the coming of companions, and related to no man the traitor, who happened at the time what had been said or done betwixt to be absent. As soon as he appeared them. again at court, attended by a numerous retinue, to execute his treasonable Foundation of the Monastery of St Osa purpose, the king issued orders to his win at Tinemouth in Northumber: huntsmen to be ready with their dogs land. before dawn, and, as soon as the morn- About these days, Robert de Mowbray, ing broke, he called all his nobles and Earl of Northumberland, being touchretainers round him for the chase. ed with divine inspiration, and willing When they reached a certain wide to restore the church of the blessed plain, surrounded by a very thick wood Oswin at Tinemouth, which was lately like a girdle, he kept the treacherous become desolate, and to establish there lord by his side, and, while all the rest a society of monks for the service of were eagerly pursuing the game, re- God, and the aforesaid holy martyr, mained with him alone. Then, when by the advice of his friends, addressed no other person was in sight, the king himself unto Paul, abbot of St Albans, stopped short, and looking back upon earnestly and devoutly entreating that the traitor, who was behind him, said, he would deign to send thither some “Lo! here am I now, and thou with of his own fraternity, promising that me; we are alone-we are equally he would abundantly supply them with armed and equally mounted ; there is whatsoever things are necessary for nobody that can see or hear us, or food and raiment. The abbot was. bring assistance to either of us; if, not wanting, on his part, to the prayer therefore, the courage be in thee, if of this petition, but took order that thou be stout enough and bold enough, certain of the monks of St Albans perform that which thou hast propos- should proceed thither accordingly, ed to do, execute for my enemies and whom, when the said earl had en thy confederates that which thou hast riched with manors, advowsons, rents, promised. If it be thy mind to slay fisheries, mills, and all manner of me, when canst thou do it more fairly goods, confirming to them the same -when more privately—when more things by his letters patent, free and manfully? Hast thou prepared poi- exempt from all secular service, he son? Leave that to women. Dost gave unto the aforesaid Paul, the ab. thou lie in wait for me in my bed? bot, and his successors, and to the That an adultress might do. Didst church of the blessed Alban, the prothou ordain to lie in ambush and ate tomartyr of England, the church of tack me with the sword? No man Tinemouth, with all its appurtenances, doubts that this is rather the office of for his own salvation, and that of all an assassin than of a soldier. Come his ancestors or successors, to be peron then! body to body-act the part petually possessed by them, in such of a man and of a warrior, so that thy manner as that the abbots of St Albans, treason may at least be without base for the time being, with the advice of ness, although it cannot be without the convent of the place aforesaid, Vol. VI.
might have free disposal of the priors dence that it was no vain delusion and monks, both in constituting and which he had witnessed, as well by in removing them, as might appear the marks of recent stripes, as by his expedient.
death, which followed shortly after.
A. D. 1092.
A.D. 1099. Vision of the Monks at Fulda. Narrative of the Death of William In those days a pestilence sorely af- Rufus, and the Prodigies which atflicted the monastery of Fulda, by tended it. which, first the abbot, and afterwards In the year of our Lord 1100, William, many of the monks were slain ; but king of England, surnamed “the red," the brethren who remained alive, be- having kept with great pomp his took themselves to alms-giving and Christmas at Gloucester, his Easter prayers, both for the souls of their de- at Chichester, and his Pentecost at ceased brethren, and for the health of London,-on the day after that of St the living. However, in process of Peter ad vincula, went into the new time (as generally comes to pass) the forest to hunt, when Walter Tyrrell, devotion of the brethren began a little aiming at a stag, unintentionally smote to fail, and the cellarer* ceased not to the king with an arrow, who, pierced affirm that the funds of the abbey through the heart, fell without speakwere not sufficient to maintain so great ing a word, and thus ended a cruel life an expense. He also added, that it by a miserable death. Several prodigies appeared foolish that the dead should also preceded his decease. For the consume what was necessary towards same king, the day before this event, the support of the living ; wherefore, saw in a dream his own blood issue on a certain night, when the cellarer out as from the stroke of a lancet, the had deferred a little his night's rest, stream whereof spouted up to the sky, on account of some necessary business, overshadowing the sun, and darkenand at last, having completed his af- ing the brightness of the firmament. fairs, was hastening to his chamber; As soon as he was awakened, he called behold, as he passed the door of the on the Virgin Mary, and having a chapter-house, he saw the abbot and light brought, and forbidding those all the brethren who had departed that of his chamber to depart from him, year, sitting in the chapter-house, ac- he passed the rest of the night withcording to custom. The cellarer, af- out sleep. But in the morning, when frighted at such a vision, began to fly, the day broke, a certain monk, a fobut at the abbot's command he was reigner, who followed the royal court seized by the brethren, and brought on the business of his church, related into the chapter-house. He was first to Robert Fitzhamon (a man of inreproved for the sin of avarice, and fluence, and a familiar of the king's) then severely beaten with scourges, a wonderful and terrible vision which after which the abbot said, with a stern appeared to him the same night. For countenance, “ It is too presumptuous in his sleep he saw the king enter & in any one to seek after the profit to certain church, and, with a haughty arise from the death of another, espe- and insolent mien, as he was wont, cially as death is common to all;" and look on the standers by; then seizing added, “ that it was an impious thing a crucifix with his teeth, he began when a monk had passed all his days gnawing the arms and legs till he had in holy offices, that he should be de- almost destroyed them; all which the prived, after his death, of the neces- crucifix endured for a time, but at last sary nourishment of a single year.” struck the king with its right foot, inHe then said, “ Depart, for thou shalt somuch that he fell backwards on the soon die, and reform all the monks pavement—and he then beheld a flame whom thy avarice has corrupted by issue from the mouth of the prostrate thy example.” The monk therefore king, which extended itself so widely, went to his companions, and gave evi- that the cloud of smoke, like a great
* Cellarer. This was the appellation given to an officer," who was to be the father of the whole society, had the care of every thing relating to the food of the monks, and vessels of the cellar, kitchen, and repertory.” See Fosbrooke's History of Monachism (page 177), where the duties attached to this office are accurately and minutely detailed. In the original he is called “ Cellarius sive Promus."