下载掌阅APP，畅读海量书库
立即打开
LESSON 7
REBECCA the Jewess, when condemned to death for sorcery by the Grand Master of the Order of Knights Templars,
challenged the privilege of “Trial by Combat,” in proof of her innocence. Her challenge was accepted, and Sir Brian, a valiant Templar, was named the champion of the holy Order.
Rebecca had difficulty in finding a messenger who would undertake to carry a letter to her father, Isaac of York; at last Higg, the son of Snell, a poor cripple whom she had be-friended, volunteered his services.
“I am but a maimed man,” he said, “but that I can at all stir is owing to her charitable aid. —I will do thine errand,” he added, turning to Rebecca, “as well as a crippled object can. —Alas! when I boasted of thy charity, I little thought that I was leading thee into danger.”
“God,” said Rebecca, “is the Disposer of all. He can turn back the captivity of Judah even by the weakest instrument. Seek out Isaac of York—here is that will pay for horse and man—let him have this scroll. Farewell! —Life and death are in thy haste.”
Within a quarter of a mile from the gate of the Preceptory
the peasant met two riders, whom, by their dress and yellow caps, he knew to be Jews; and, on approaching more nearly, he discovered that one of them was his ancient employer, Isaac of York. The other was the Rabbi Ben Samuel; and both had approached as near to the Preceptory as they dared, on hearing that the Grand Master had summoned a chapter, or meeting of the Order, for the trial of a sorceress.
“How now, brother?” said Ben Samuel, interrupting his harangue to look towards Isaac, who had but glanced at the scroll which Higg offered, when, uttering a deep groan, he fell from his mule like a dying man, and lay for a minute insensible.
The Rabbi now dismounted in great alarm, and hastily applied the remedies which his art suggested for the recovery of his companion. He had even taken from his pocket a cupping apparatus,
and was about to use it, when the object of his solicitude suddenly revived; but it was to dash his cap from his head, and to throw dust on his gray hairs. The physician was at first inclined to ascribe this sudden and violent emotion to the effects of insanity; and, adhering to his original purpose, began once again to handle his implements. But Isaac soon convinced him of his error.
“Child of my sorrow,” he said, “well shouldst thou be called Benoni, instead of Rebecca! Why should thy death bring down my gray hairs to the grave?”
“Brother,” said the Rabbi, in great surprise, “I trust that the child of thy house yet liveth?”
“She liveth,” answered Isaac, “but she is captive unto those men of Be’lial,
and they will wreak their cruelty upon her, sparing her neither for her youth nor her comely favour. Oh, she was as a crown of green palms to my gray locks; and she must wither in a night, like the gourd of Jonah!
Child of my love! child of my old age! —O Rebecca, daughter of Rachel, the darkness of the shadow of death hath encompassed thee.”
“Yet read the scroll,” said the Rabbi; “peradventure it may be that we may yet find out a way of deliverance.”
“Do thou read, brother,” answered Isaac, “for mine eyes are as fountains of water.”
The physician read, but in their native language, the following words: —
“To ISAAC, the son of Adoni’kam, whom the Gentiles call ISAAC of YORK, peace and the blessing of the promise be multiplied unto thee.
“My father, I am as one doomed to die for that which my soul knoweth not-even for the crime of witchcraft. My father, if a strong man can be found to do battle for my cause with sword and spear, according to the custom of the Nazarenes,
and that within the lists of Tem’plestowe, on the third day from this time, peradventure our fathers’ God will give him strength to defend the innocent, and her who hath none to help her. But if this may not be, let the virgins of our people mourn for me as for one cast off, and for the hart that is stricken by the hunter, and for the flower which is cut down by the scythe of the mower. Wherefore, look now what thou doest, and whether there be any rescue.
“One Nazarene warrior might, indeed, bear arms in my behalf, even Wilfred, son of Ced’ric, whom the Gentiles call I’vanhoe. But he may not yet endure the weight of his armour. Nevertheless, send the tidings unto him, my father; for he hath favour among the strong men of his people, and as he was our companion in the house of bondage, he may find some one to do battle for my sake. And say unto him, even unto him, even unto Wilfred, the son of Cedric, that if Rebecca live, or if Rebecca die, she liveth or dieth wholly free of the guilt she is charged withal.
“And if it be the will of God that thou shalt be deprived of thy daughter, do not thou tarry, old man, in this land of bloodshed and cruelty; but betake thyself to Cordo’va,
where thy brother liveth in safety, under the shadow of the throne, even of the throne of Boab’dil the Sar’acen: for less cruel are the cruelties of the Moors unto the race of Jacob than the cruelties of the Nazarenes of England.”
Isaac listened with tolerable composure while Ben Samuel read the letter, and then again resumed the gestures and exclamations of Oriental sorrow, tearing his garments, besprinkling his head with dust, and ejaculating, “My daughter! my daughter!”
“Yet,” said the Rabbi, “take courage, for this grief availeth nothing. Seek out this Wilfred, the son of Cedric. It may be he will help thee with counsel or with strength; for the youth hath favour in the eyes of Richard, called of the Nazarenes the Lion-Heart, and the tidings that he hath returned are constant in the land. It may be that he may obtain his letter, and his signet, commanding these men of blood, who take their name from the Temple, to the dishonour thereof, that they proceed not in their purposed wickedness.”
“I will seek him out,” said Isaac; “for he is a good youth, and hath compassion for the exile of Jacob. But he cannot bear his armour, and what other Christian shall do battle for the oppressed of Zion?”
— SIR W. SCOTT
availeth, profiteth.
bondage, slavery.
challenged, claimed.
companion, associate.
compassion, pity.
cruelties, atrocities.
deliverance, release.
deprived, bereft.
discovered, found.
dishonour, shame.
ejaculating, exclaiming.
employer, master.
encompassed, surrounded.
gestures, actions.
harangue, speech.
implements, apparatus.
insanity, delirium.
insensible, unconscious.
multiplied, increased.
peradventure, perchance.
physician, healer.
privilege, right.
remedies, restoratives.
solicitude, anxiety.
sorcery, witchcraft.
summoned, called.
volunteered, offered freely.
What privilege did Rebecca claim when she had been condemned? Who was named the champion of the Temple? Who at last volunteered to carry her letter? Where did he meet Isaac? What effect had the perusal of Rebecca’s letter upon the latter? Who accompanied him? Whose help did Rebecca ask him to obtain?
LESSON 8
OUR scene now returns to the exterior of the Castle, or Precep’tory, of Tem’plestowe, about the hour when the bloody die was to be cast for the life or death of Rebecca. A throne was erected for the Grand Master at the east end of the tilt-yard, surrounded with seats of distinction for the Preceptors and Knights of the Order.
At the opposite end of the lists was a pile of fagots, so arranged around a stake, deeply fixed in the ground, as to leave a space for the victim whom they were destined to consume, to enter within the fatal circle in order to be chained to the stake by the fetters which hung ready for the purpose.
The unfortunate Rebecca was conducted to a black chair placed near the pile. On her first glance at the terrible spot where preparations were making for a death alike dismaying to the mind and painful to the body, she was observed to shudder and shut her eyes—praying internally, doubtless, for her lips moved though no speech was heard. In the space of a minute she opened her eyes, looked fixedly on the pile, as if to familiarize her mind with the object, and then slowly and naturally turned away her head.
It was the general belief that no one could or would appear for a Jewess accused of sorcery; and the knights whispered to each other that it was time to declare the pledge of Rebecca forfeited. At that instant a knight, urging his horse to speed, appeared on the plain advancing towards the lists. A hundred voices exclaimed, “A champion! a champion!” And despite the prejudices of the multitude, they shouted unanimously as the knight rode into the tilt-yard.
The second glance, however, served to destroy the hope that his timely arrival had excited. His horse, urged for many miles to its utmost speed, appeared to reel from fatigue; and the rider, however undauntedly he presented himself in the lists, either from weakness, from weariness, or from both combined, seemed scarce able to support himself in the saddle.
To the summons of the herald, who demanded his rank, his name and purpose, the stranger knight answered readily and boldly, “I am a good knight and noble, come hither to uphold with lance and sword the just and lawful quarrel of this damsel, Rebecca, daughter of Isaac of York; to maintain the doom pronounced against her to be false and truthless, and to defy Sir Brian the Templar as a traitor, murderer, and liar; as I will prove in this field with my body against his, by the aid of God, and of Saint George,
the good knight.”
“The stranger must first show,” said a Templar, “that he is a good knight, and of honourable lineage. The Temple sendeth not forth her champions against nameless men.”
“My name,” said the knight, raising his helmet, “is better known, my lineage more pure, than thine own. I am Wilfred of Ivanhoe.”
“I will not fight with thee at present,” said the Templar, in a changed and hollow voice. “Get thy wounds healed, purvey thee a better horse, and it may be I will hold it worth my while to scourge out of thee this boyish spirit of bravado.”
“Ha! proud Templar,” said Ivanhoe, “hast thou forgotten that twice thou didst fall before this lance? Remember the lists at A’cre—remember the passage of arms at Ash’by—remember thy proud vaunt in the halls of Roth’erwood, and the gage of your gold chain against my reliquary,
that thou wouldst do battle with Wilfred of Ivanhoe, and recover the honour thou hadst lost! By that reliquary, and the holy relic it contains, I will proclaim thee, Templar, a coward in every Court in Europe—unless thou do battle without further delay.”
Sir Brian turned his countenance irresolutely towards Rebecca, and then exclaimed, looking fiercely at Ivanhoe, “Dog of a Saxon! take thy lance, and prepare for the death thou hast drawn upon thee!”
“Does the Grand Master allow me the combat?” said Ivanhoe.
“I may not deny what thou hast challenged,” said the Grand Master, “provided the maiden accept thee as her champion. Yet I would thou wert in better plight to do battle. An enemy of our Order hast thou ever been, yet would I have thee honourably met withal.”
TILT-YARD
“Thus—thus as I am, and not otherwise,” said Ivanhoe; “it is the judgment of God—to his keeping I commend myself.—Rebecca,” said he, riding up to the fatal chair, “dost thou accept of me for thy champion?”
“I do,” she said, “I do,”—fluttered by an emotion which the fear of death had been unable to produce—“I do accept thee as the champion whom Heaven hath sent me. Yet, no—no; thy wounds are uncured. Meet not that proud man—why shouldst thou perish also?”
But Ivanhoe was already at his post; he had closed his visor
and assumed his lance. Sir Brian did the same; and his esquire remarked, as he clasped his visor, that his face—which had, notwithstanding the variety of emotions by which he had been agitated, continued during the whole morning of an ashy paleness—had now become suddenly very much flushed.
The Grand Master, who held in his hand the gage of battle, Rebecca’s glove, now threw it into the lists. The trumpets sounded, and the knights charged each other in full career. The weary horse of Ivanhoe, and its no less exhausted rider, went down, as all had expected, before the well-aimed lance and vigorous steed of the Templar. This issue of the combat all had foreseen; but although the spear of Ivanhoe, in comparison, did but touch the shield of Sir Brian, that champion, to the astonishment of all who beheld it, reeled in his saddle, lost his stirrup, and fell in the lists!
Ivanhoe, extricating himself from his fallen horse, was soon on foot, hastening to mend his fortune with his sword; but his antagonist arose not. Wilfred, placing his foot on his breast, and the sword’s point to his throat, commanded him to yield him, or die on the spot. The Templar returned no answer.
“Slay him not, Sir Knight,” cried the Grand Master “unshriven and unabsolved—kill not body and soul! We acknowledge him vanquished.”
He descended into the lists, and commanded them to unhelm the conquered champion. His eyes were closed—the dark red flush was still on his brow. As they looked on him in astonishment, the eyes opened—but they were fixed and glazed. The flush passed from his brow, and gave way to the pallid hue of death. Unscathed by the lance of his enemy, he had died a victim to the violence of his own contending passions.
“This is indeed the judgment of God,” said the Grand Master, looking upwards— “Fiat voluntas tua!”
When the first moments of surprise were over, Wilfred of Ivanhoe demanded of the Grand Master, as judge of the field, if he had manfully and rightfully done his duty in the combat?
“Manfully and rightfully hath it been done,” said the Grand Master; “I pronounce the maiden free and guiltless. The arms and the body of the deceased knight are at the will of the victor.”
“I will not despoil him of his weapons,” said the Knight of Ivanhoe, “nor condemn his corpse to shame. God’s arm, no human hand, hath this day struck him down. But let his obsequies be private, as becomes those of a man who died in an unjust quarrel. —And for the maiden—”
He was interrupted by the clatter of horses’ feet, advancing in such numbers, and so rapidly, as to shake the ground before them; and the Black Knight galloped into the lists. He was followed by a numerous band of men-at-arms, and several knights in complete armour.
“I am too late,” he said, looking around him. “I had doomed Sir Brian for mine own property. —Ivanhoe, was this well, to take on thee such a venture, and thou scarce able to keep thy saddle?”
“Heaven, my liege,” answered Ivanhoe, “hath taken this proud man for its victim. He was not to be honoured in dying as your will had designed.”
“Peace be with him,” said Richard,
looking steadfastly on the corpse, “if it may be so—he was a gallant knight, and has died in his steel harness full knightly.”
During the tumult Rebecca saw and heard nothing: she was locked in the arms of her aged father, giddy, and almost senseless, with the rapid change of circumstances around her. But one word from Isaac at length recalled her scattered feelings.
“Let us go,” he said, “my dear daughter, my recovered treasure—let us go to throw ourselves at the feet of the good youth.”
“Not so,” said Rebecca; “oh no—no—no; —I must not at this moment dare to speak to him. Alas! I should say more than—No, my father; let us instantly leave this evil place.”
Isaac, yielding to her entreaties, then conducted her from the lists, and by means of a horse which he had provided, transported her safely to the house of the Rabbi Nathan.
— SIR WALTER SCOTT
antagonist, opponent.
astonishment, surprise.
bravado, boastfulness.
champion, defender.
commend, intrust.
consume, destroy.
demanded, asked.
designed, intended.
destined, appointed.
dismaying, appalling.
distinction, honour.
entreaties, solicitations.
exhausted, wearied.
extricating, disengaging.
familiarize, accustom.
fluttered, agitated.
forfeited, sacrificed.
honourably, worthily.
internally, mentally.
interrupted, checked.
irresolutely, unsteadily.
lineage, descent.
notwithstanding, in spite of.
obsequies, funeral rites.
prejudices, predilections.
proclaim, denounce.
pronounced, proclaimed.
purvey, provide.
transported, conveyed.
unabsolved, unpardoned.
unanimously, with one accord.
undauntedly, valiantly.
unfortunate, luckless.
unscathed, uninjured.
unshriven, not confessed.
vanquished, defeated.
venture, hazard.
vigorous, powerful.
Where was the combat to take place? Where was the Grand Master’s position? What was at the opposite end of the lists? What was the general belief? Who at last appeared? Why did the Templar at first decline to fight with him? What fear did Rebecca express? What was the result of the encounter of the knights. What befell the Templar immediately afterwards? What had killed him? What verdict did the Grand Master now give regarding Rebecca? Who presently arrived on the scene? Why was the Black Knight disappointed? Who was this Black Knight? Who had embraced Rebecca? What did he ask her to do? What did she reply?