CHAPTER XXVI
The hottest horse will oft be cool, The dullest will show fire; The friar will often play the fool, The fool will play the friar.
_Old Song_.
When the Jester, arrayed in the cowl and frock
of the hermit, and having his knotted cord twisted
round his middle, stood before the portal of the
castle of Front-de-B
``_Pax vobiscum_,'' answered the Jester, ``I am a
poor brother of the Order of St Francis, who come
hither to do my office to certain unhappy prisoners
now secured within this castle.''
``Thou art a bold friar,'' said the warder, ``to
come hither, where, saving our own drunken confessor,
a cock of thy feather hath not crowed these
twenty years.''
``Yet I pray thee, do mine errand to the lord of
the castle,'' answered the pretended friar; ``trust
me it will find good acceptance with him, and the
cock shall crow, that the whole castle shall hear
him.''
``Gramercy,'' said the warder; ``but if I come
to shame for leaving my post upon thine errand, I
will try whether a friar's grey gown be proof against
a grey-goose shaft.''
With this threat he left his turret, and carried
to the hall of the castle his unwonted intelligence,
that a holy friar stood before the gate and demanded
instant admission. With no small wonder
he received his master's commands to admit the holy
man immediately; and, having previously manned
the entrance to guard against surprise, he obeyed,
without further scruple, the commands which he
had received. The harebrained self-conceit which
had emboldened Wamba to undertake this dangerous
office, was scarce sufficient to support him when
he found himself in the presence of a man so dreadful,
and so much dreaded, as Reginald Front-de-B
``Who and whence art thou, priest?'' said he.
``_Pax vobiscum_,'' reiterated the Jester, ``I am a
poor servant of St Francis, who, travelling through
this wilderness, have fallen among thieves, (as Scripture
hath it,) _quidam viator incidit in latrones_, which
thieves have sent me unto this castle in order to do
my ghostly office on two persons condemned by
your honourable justice.''
``Ay, right,'' answered Front-de-B
``Gallant sir,'' answered the Jester, ``_nomen illis
legio_, their name is legion.''
``Tell me in plain terms what numbers there are,
or, priest, thy cloak and cord will ill protect thee.''
``Alas!'' said the supposed friar, ``_cor meum
eructavit_, that is to say, I was like to burst with
fear! but I conceive they may be---what of yeomen
---what of commons, at least five hundred men.''
``What!'' said the Templar, who came into the
hall that moment, ``muster the wasps so thick here?
it is time to stifle such a mischievous brood.'' Then
taking Front-de-B
``He is a stranger from a distant convent,'' I said
Front-de-B
``Then trust him not with thy purpose in words,''
answered the Templar. ``Let him carry a written
order to De Bracy's company of Free Companions, to
repair instantly to their master's aid. In the meantime,
and that the shaveling may suspect nothing,
permit him to go freely about his task of preparing
these Saxon hogs for the slaughter-house.''
``It shall be so,'' said Front-de-B
The impatience of Cedric had been rather enhanced
than diminished by his confinement. He
walked from one end of the hall to the other, with
the attitude of one who advances to charge an enemy,
or to storm the breach of a beleaguered place,
sometimes ejaculating to himself, sometimes addressing
Athelstane, who stoutly and stoically
awaited the issue of the adventure, digesting, in
the meantime, with great composure, the liberal
meal which he had made at noon, and not greatly
interesting himself about the duration of his captivity,
which he concluded, would, like all earthly
evils, find an end in Heaven's good time.
``_Pax vobiscum_,'' said the Jester, entering the
apartment; ``the blessing of St Dunstan, St Dennis,
St Duthoc, and all other saints whatsoever, be
upon ye and about ye.''
``Enter freely,'' answered Cedric to the supposed
friar; ``with what intent art thou come hither?''
``To bid you prepare yourselves for death,'' answered
the Jester.
``It is impossible!'' replied Cedric, starting.
``Fearless and wicked as they are, they dare not
attempt such open and gratuitous cruelty!''
``Alas!'' said the Jester, ``to restrain them by
their sense of humanity, is the same as to stop a
runaway horse with a bridle of silk thread. Bethink
thee, therefore, noble Cedric, and you also,
gallant Athelstane, what crimes you have committed
in the flesh; for this very day will ye be called
to answer at a higher tribunal.''
``Hearest thou this, Athelstane?'' said Cedric;
``we must rouse up our hearts to this last action,
since better it is we should die like men, than live
like slaves.''
``I am ready,'' answered Athelstane, ``to stand
the worst of their malice, and shall walk to my death
with as much composure as ever I did to my dinner.''
``Let us then unto our holy gear, father,'' said
Cedric.
``Wait yet a moment, good uncle,'' said the
Jester, in his natural tone; ``better look long before
you leap in the dark.''
``By my faith,'' said Cedric, ``I should know
that voice!''
``It is that of your trusty slave and jester,'' answered
Wamba, throwing back his cowl. ``Had
you taken a fool's advice formerly, you would not
have been here at all. Take a fool's advice now,
and you will not be here long.''
``How mean'st thou, knave?'' answered the Saxon.
``Even thus,'' replied Wamba; ``take thou this
frock and cord, which are all the orders I ever had,
and march quietly out of the castle, leaving me
your cloak and girdle to take the long leap in thy
stead.''
``Leave thee in my stead!'' said Cedric, astonished
at the proposal; ``why, they would hang
thee, my poor knave.''
``E'en let them do as they are permitted,'' said
Wamba; ``I trust---no disparagement to your birth
---that the son of Witless may hang in a chain with
as much gravity as the chain hung upon his ancestor
the alderman.''
``Well, Wamba,'' answered Cedric, ``for one
thing will I grant thy request. And that is, if thou
wilt make the exchange of garments with Lord
Athelstane instead of me.''
``No, by St Dunstan,'' answered Wamba; ``there
were little reason in that. Good right there is, that
the son of Witless should suffer to save the son of
Hereward; but little wisdom there were in his
dying for the benefit of one whose fathers were
strangers to his.''
``Villain,'' said Cedric, ``the fathers of Athelstane
were monarchs of England!''
``They might be whomsoever they pleased,'' replied
Wamba; ``but my neck stands too straight
upon my shoulders to have it twisted for their sake.
Wherefore, good my master, either take my proffer
yourself, or suffer me to leave this dungeon as
free as I entered.''
``Let the old tree wither,'' continued Cedric, ``so
the stately hope of the forest be preserved. Save
the noble Athelstane, my trusty Wamba! it is the
duty of each who has Saxon blood in his veins.
Thou and I will abide together the utmost rage of
our injurious oppressors, while he, free and safe,
shall arouse the awakened spirits of our countrymen
to avenge us.''
``Not so, father Cedric,'' said Athelstane, grasping
his hand,---for, when roused to think or act, his
deeds and sentiments were not unbecoming his high
race---``Not so,'' he continued; ``I would rather
remain in this hall a week without food save the
prisoner's stinted loaf, or drink save the prisoner's
measure of water, than embrace the opportunity to
escape which the slave's untaught kindness has purveyed
for his master.''
``You are called wise men, sirs,'' said the Jester,
``and I a crazed fool; but, uncle Cedric, and cousin
Athelstane, the fool shall decide this controversy
for ye, and save ye the trouble of straining courtesies
any farther. I am like John-a-Duck's mare,
that will let no man mount her but John-a-Duck.
I came to save my master, and if he will not consent---
basta---I can but go away home again. Kind
service cannot be chucked from hand to hand like
a shuttlecock or stool-ball. I'll hang for no man
but my own born master.''
``Go, then, noble Cedric,'' said Athelstane, ``neglect
not this opportunity. Your presence without
may encourage friends to our rescue---your remaining
here would ruin us all.''
``And is there any prospect, then, of rescue from
without?'' said Cedric, looking to the Jester.
``Prospect, indeed!'' echoed Wamba; ``let me
tell you, when you fill my cloak, you are wrapped
in a general's cassock. Five hundred men are there
without, and I was this morning one of the chief
leaders. My fool's cap was a casque, and my bauble
a truncheon. Well, we shall see what good they
will make by exchanging a fool for a wise man.
Truly, I fear they will lose in valour what they
may gain in discretion. And so farewell, master,
and be kind to poor Gurth and his dog Fangs; and
let my cockscomb hang in the hall at Rotherwood,
in memory that I flung away my life for my master,
like a faithful------fool.''
The last word came out with a sort of double expression,
betwixt jest and earnest. The tears stood
in Cedric's eyes.
``Thy memory shall be preserved,'' he said,
``while fidelity and affection have honour upon
earth! But that I trust I shall find the means of
saving Rowena, and thee, Athelstane, and thee, also,
my poor Wamba, thou shouldst not overbear me
in this matter.''
The exchange of dress was now accomplished,
when a sudden doubt struck Cedric.
``I know no language,'' he said, ``but my own,
and a few words of their mincing Norman. How
shall I bear myself like a reverend brother?''
``The spell lies in two words,'' replied Wamba---
``_Pax vobiscum_ will answer all queries. If you
go or come, eat or drink, bless or ban, _Pax vobiscum_
carries you through it all. It is as useful to a friar
as a broomstick to a witch, or a wand to a conjurer.
Speak it but thus, in a deep grave tone,---_Pax
vobiscum!_---it is irresistible---Watch and ward,
knight and squire, foot and horse, it acts as a charm
upon them all. I think, if they bring me out to be
hanged to-morrow, as is much to be doubted they
may, I will try its weight upon the finisher of the
sentence.''
``If such prove the case,'' said the master, ``my
religious orders are soon taken---_Pax vobiscum_. I
trust I shall remember the pass-word.---Noble
Athelstane, farewell; and farewell, my poor boy,
whose heart might make amends for a weaker head
---I will save you, or return and die with you. The
royal blood of our Saxon kings shall not be spilt
while mine beats in my veins; nor shall one hair
fall from the head of the kind knave who risked
himself for his master, if Cedric's peril can prevent
it.---Farewell.''
``Farewell, noble Cedric,'' said Athelstane; ``remember
it is the true part of a friar to accept refreshment,
if you are offered any.''
``Farewell, uncle,'' added Wamba; ``and remember
_Pax vobiscum_.''
Thus exhorted, Cedric sallied forth upon his expedition;
and it was not long ere he had occasion
to try the force of that spell which his Jester had
recommended as omnipotent. In a low-arched and
dusky passage, by which he endeavoured to work
his way to the hall of the castle, he was interrupted
by a female form.
``_Pax vobiscum!_'' said the pseudo friar, and was
endeavouring to hurry past, when a soft voice replied,
``_Et vobis---quaso, domine reverendissime,
pro misericordia vestra_.''
``I am somewhat deaf,'' replied Cedric, in good
Saxon, and at the same time muttered to himself,
``A curse on the fool and his _Pax vobiscum!_ I
have lost my javelin at the first cast.''
It was, however, no unusual thing for a priest of
those days to be deaf of his Latin ear, and this the
person who now addressed Cedric knew full well.
``I pray you of dear love, reverend father,'' she
replied in his own language, ``that you will deign
to visit with your ghostly comfort a wounded prisoner
of this castle, and have such compassion upon
him and us as thy holy office teaches---Never shall
good deed so highly advantage thy convent.''
``Daughter,'' answered Cedric, much embarrassed,
``my time in this castle will not permit me to
exercise the duties of mine office---I must presently
forth---there is life and death upon my speed.''
``Yet, father, let me entreat you by the vow you
have taken on you,'' replied the suppliant, ``not to
leave the oppressed and endangered without counsel
or succour.''
``May the fiend fly away with me, and leave me
in Ifrin with the souls of Odin and of Thor!'' answered
Cedric impatiently, and would probably
have proceeded in the same tone of total departure
from his spiritual character, when the colloquy was
interrupted by the harsh voice of Urfried, the old
crone of the turret.
``How, minion,'' said she to the female speaker,
``is this the manner in which you requite the kindness
which permitted thee to leave thy prison-cell
yonder?---Puttest thou the reverend man to use
ungracious language to free himself from the importunities
of a Jewess?''
``A Jewess!'' said Cedric, availing himself of
the information to get clear of their interruption,---
``Let me pass, woman! stop me not at your peril.
I am fresh from my holy office, and would avoid
pollution.''
``Come this way, father,'' said the old hag, ``thou
art a stranger in this castle, and canst not leave it
without a guide. Come hither, for I would speak
with thee.---And you, daughter of an accursed race,
go to the sick man's chamber, and tend him until
my return; and woe betide you if you again quit
it without my permission!''
Rebecca retreated. Her importunities had prevailed
upon Urfried to suffer her to quit the turret,
and Urfried had employed her services where
she herself would most gladly have paid them, by
the bedside of the wounded Ivanhoe. With an
understanding awake to their dangerous situation,
and prompt to avail herself of each means of safety
which occurred, Rebecca had hoped something from
the presence of a man of religion, who, she learned
from Urfried, had penetrated into this godless castle.
She watched the return of the supposed ecclesiastic,
with the purpose of addressing him, and
interesting him in favour of the prisoners; with
what imperfect success the reader has been just
acquainted.
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