Journeys Through Bookland Volume Vi Part 7

"Not I, by the light of Heaven!" answered Prince John: "this same springal,[83-15] who conceals his name and despises our proffered hospitality, hath already gained one prize, and may now afford to let others have their turn." As he spoke thus, an unexpected incident changed the fortune of the day.

There was among the ranks of the Disinherited Knight a champion in black armor, mounted on a black horse, large of size, tall, and to all appearance powerful and strong, like the rider by whom he was mounted.

This knight, who bore on his shield no device of any kind, had hitherto evinced very little interest in the event of the fight, beating off with seeming ease those combatants who attacked him, but neither pursuing his advantages nor himself a.s.sailing any one. In short, he had hitherto acted the part rather of a spectator than of a party in the tournament, a circ.u.mstance which procured him among the spectators the name of _Le Noir Faineant_, or the Black Sluggard.

At once this knight seemed to throw aside his apathy, when he discovered the leader of his party so hard bested; for, setting spurs to his horse, which was quite fresh, he came to his a.s.sistance like a thunderbolt, exclaiming, in a voice like a trumpet-call, "_Desdichado_, to the rescue!" It was high time; for, while the Disinherited Knight was pressing upon the Templar, Front-de-Boeuf had got nigh to him with his uplifted sword; but ere the blow could descend, the Sable Knight dealt a stroke on his head, which, glancing from the polished helmet, lighted with violence scarcely abated on the chamfron[84-16] of the steed, and Front-de-Boeuf rolled on the ground, both horse and man equally stunned by the fury of the blow. _Le Noir Faineant_ then turned his horse upon Athelstane of Coningsburgh; and his own sword having been broken in his encounter with Front-de-Boeuf, he wrenched from the hand of the bulky Saxon the battle-axe which he wielded, and, like one familiar with the use of the weapon, bestowed him such a blow upon the crest that Athelstane also lay senseless on the field. Having achieved this double feat, for which he was the more highly applauded that it was totally unexpected from him, the knight seemed to resume the sluggishness of his character, returning calmly to the northern extremity of the lists, leaving his leader to cope as he best could with Brian de Bois-Guilbert. This was no longer matter of so much difficulty as formerly. The Templar's horse had bled much, and gave way under the shock of the Disinherited Knight's charge. Brian de Bois-Guilbert rolled on the field, enc.u.mbered with the stirrup, from which he was unable to draw his foot. His antagonist sprung from horseback, waved his fatal sword over the head of his adversary, and commanded him to yield himself; when Prince John, more moved by the Templar's dangerous situation than he had been by that of his rival, saved him the mortification of confessing himself vanquished, by casting down his warder and putting an end to the conflict.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PRINCE JOHN THROWS DOWN THE TRUNCHEON]

It was, indeed, only the relics and embers of the fight which continued to burn; for of the few knights who still continued in the lists, the greater part had, by tacit consent, forborne the conflict for some time, leaving it to be determined by the strife of the leaders.

The squires, who had found it a matter of danger and difficulty to attend their masters during the engagement, now thronged into the lists to pay their dutiful attendance to the wounded, who were removed with the utmost care and attention to the neighboring pavilions, or to the quarters prepared for them in the adjoining village.

Thus ended the memorable field of Ashby-de-la-Zouche, one of the most gallantly contested tournaments of that age; for although only four knights, including one who was smothered by the heat of his armor, had died upon the field, yet upward of thirty were desperately wounded, four or five of whom never recovered. Several more were disabled for life; and those who escaped best carried the marks of the conflict to the grave with them. Hence it is always mentioned in the old records as the "gentle and joyous pa.s.sage of arms of Ashby."

It being now the duty of Prince John to name the knight who had done best, he determined that the honor of the day remained with the knight whom the popular voice had termed _Le Noir Faineant_. It was pointed out to the Prince, in impeachment of this decree, that the victory had been in fact won by the Disinherited Knight, who, in the course of the day, had overcome six champions with his own hand, and who had finally unhorsed and struck down the leader of the opposite party. But Prince John adhered to his own opinion, on the ground that the Disinherited Knight and his party had lost the day but for the powerful a.s.sistance of the Knight of the Black Armor, to whom, therefore, he persisted in awarding the prize.

To the surprise of all present, however, the knight thus preferred was nowhere to be found. He had left the lists immediately when the conflict ceased, and had been observed by some spectators to move down one of the forest glades with the same slow pace and listless and indifferent manner which had procured him the epithet of the Black Sluggard.[87-17]

After he had been summoned twice by sound of trumpet and proclamation of the heralds, it became necessary to name another to receive the honors which had been a.s.signed to him. Prince John had now no further excuse for resisting the claim of the Disinherited Knight, whom, therefore, he named the champion of the day.

Through a field slippery with blood and enc.u.mbered with broken armor and the bodies of slain and wounded horses, the marshals again conducted the victor to the foot of Prince John's throne.

"Disinherited Knight," said Prince John, "since by that t.i.tle only you will consent to be known to us, we a second time award to you the honors of this tournament, and announce to you your right to claim and receive from the hands of the Queen of Love and Beauty the chaplet of honor which your valor has justly deserved."

The Knight bowed low and gracefully, but returned no answer.

While the trumpets sounded, while the heralds strained their voices in proclaiming honor to the brave and glory to the victor, while ladies waved their silken kerchiefs and embroidered veils, and while all ranks joined in a clamorous shout of exultation, the marshals conducted the Disinherited Knight across the lists to the foot of that throne of honor which was occupied by the Lady Rowena.

On the lower step of this throne the champion was made to kneel down.

Indeed, his whole action since that the fight had ended seemed rather to have been upon the impulse of those around him than from his own free will; and it was observed that he tottered as they guided him the second time across the lists. Rowena, descending from her station with a graceful and dignified step, was about to place the chaplet which she held in her hand upon the helmet of the champion, when the marshals exclaimed with one voice, "It must not be thus; his head must be bare."

The knight muttered faintly a few words, which were lost in the hollow of his helmet; but their purport seemed to be a desire that his casque might not be removed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROWENA CROWNING DISINHERITED KNIGHT]

Whether from love of form or from curiosity, the marshals paid no attention to his expressions of reluctance, but unhelmed him by cutting the laces of his casque, and undoing the fastening of his gorget. When the helmet was removed the well-formed yet sun-burned features of a young man of twenty-five were seen, amid a profusion of short fair hair. His countenance was as pale as death, and marked in one or two places with streaks of blood.

Rowena had no sooner beheld him that she uttered a faint shriek; but at once summoning up the energy of her disposition, and compelling herself, as it were, to proceed, while her frame yet trembled with the violence of sudden emotion, she placed upon the drooping head of the victor the splendid chaplet which was the destined reward of the day, and p.r.o.nounced in a clear and distinct tone these words: "I bestow on thee this chaplet, Sir Knight, as the meed of valor a.s.signed to this day's victor." Here she paused a moment, and then firmly added, "And upon brow more worthy could a wreath of chivalry never be placed!"

The knight stooped his head and kissed the hand of the lovely Sovereign by whom his valor had been rewarded; and then, sinking yet further forward, lay prostrate at her feet.

There was a general consternation. Cedric, who had been struck mute by the sudden appearance of his banished son, now rushed forward as if to separate him from Rowena. But this had been already accomplished by the marshals of the field, who, guessing the cause of Ivanhoe's swoon, had hastened to undo his armor, and found that the head of a lance had penetrated his breastplate and inflicted a wound in his side.

FOOTNOTES:

[39-1] A pursuivant was an attendant on a herald.

[40-2] _Salvage_ is an old form of the word _savage_.

[46-3] _Outrance_ is an old word meaning _the last extremity_.

[48-4] A largesse is a gift or donation.

[53-5] _Clowns_ here means _peasants_.

[56-6] _Gare le Corbeau_ means _Beware of the raven_.

[57-7] A demi-volte is a certain movement of a horse, by which he makes a half turn with the fore-feet off the ground.

[59-8] _Front-de-Boeuf_ means bull's head.

[59-9] _Cave, Adsum_ is a Latin expression meaning _Beware, I am here_.

[62-10] _Hospitallers_ was another name for the Knights of Saint John.

[70-11] _Barbed_, or _barded_, is a term used of a war-horse, and means _furnished with armor_.

[72-12] A zecchin, or sequin, is worth about $2.25.

[78-13] _Laissez aller_ means literally _Let go_.

[79-14] _Beau-seant_ was the name given to the black and white banner of the Templars.

[83-15] _Springal_ is an old word meaning _youth_ or _young man_.

[84-16] The _chamfron_ is the defensive armor of the front part of the head of a war-horse.

[87-17] The Black Sluggard was the king of England, Richard the Lion-Hearted, who had been absent from England on a Crusade and had come back without allowing his brother John to know of his return.

THE RAINBOW

_By_ THOMAS CAMPBELL

Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky When storms prepare to part, I ask not proud Philosophy To teach me what thou art.

Still seem, as to my childhoods' sight, A midway station given, For happy spirits to alight, Betwixt the earth and heaven.

Can all that optics teach, unfold Thy form to please me so, As when I dreamt of gems and gold Hid in thy radiant bow?[91-1]

When science from creation's face Enchantment's veil withdraws, What lovely visions yield their place To cold material laws!

And yet, fair bow, no fabling dreams, But words of the Most High, Have told why first thy robe of beams Was woven in the sky.[91-2]

When o'er the green undeluged earth Heaven's covenant thou didst shine, How came the world's gray fathers forth To watch thy sacred sign!