Ivanhoe - Walter Scott (e ink ebook reader txt) 📗

which he managed his

steed, and something of youthful grace which he displayed in his

manner, won him the favour of the multitude, which some of the

lower classes expressed by calling out, “Touch Ralph de Vipont’s

shield---touch the Hospitallers shield; he has the least sure

seat, he is your cheapest bargain.”

The champion, moving onward amid these well-meant hints, ascended

the platform by the sloping alley which led to it from the lists,

and, to the astonishment of all present, riding straight up to

the central pavilion, struck with the sharp end of his spear the

shield of Brian de Bois-Guilbert until it rung again. All stood

astonished at his presumption, but none more than the redoubted

Knight whom he had thus defied to mortal combat, and who, little

expecting so rude a challenge, was standing carelessly at the

door of the pavilion.

“Have you confessed yourself, brother,” said the Templar, “and

have you heard mass this morning, that you peril your life so

frankly?”

“I am fitter to meet death than thou art” answered the

Disinherited Knight; for by this name the stranger had recorded

himself in the books of the tourney.

“Then take your place in the lists,” said Bois-Guilbert, “and

look your last upon the sun; for this night thou shalt sleep in

paradise.”

“Gramercy for thy courtesy,” replied the Disinherited Knight,

“and to requite it, I advise thee to take a fresh horse and a new

lance, for by my honour you will need both.”

Having expressed himself thus confidently, he reined his horse

backward down the slope which he had ascended, and compelled him

in the same manner to move backward through the lists, till he

reached the northern extremity, where he remained stationary, in

expectation of his antagonist. This feat of horsemanship again

attracted the applause of the multitude.

However incensed at his adversary for the precautions which he

recommended, Brian de Bois-Guilbert did not neglect his advice;

for his honour was too nearly concerned, to permit his neglecting

any means which might ensure victory over his presumptuous

opponent. He changed his horse for a proved and fresh one of

great strength and spirit. He chose a new and a tough spear,

lest the wood of the former might have been strained in the

previous encounters he had sustained. Lastly, he laid aside his

shield, which had received some little damage, and received

another from his squires. His first had only borne the general

device of his rider, representing two knights riding upon one

horse, an emblem expressive of the original humility and poverty

of the Templars, qualities which they had since exchanged for the

arrogance and wealth that finally occasioned their suppression.

Bois-Guilbert’s new shield bore a raven in full flight, holding

in its claws a skull, and bearing the motto, “Gare le Corbeau”.

When the two champions stood opposed to each other at the two

extremities of the lists, the public expectation was strained to

the highest pitch. Few augured the possibility that the

encounter could terminate well for the Disinherited Knight, yet

his courage and gallantry secured the general good wishes of the

spectators.

The trumpets had no sooner given the signal, than the champions

vanished from their posts with the speed of lightning, and closed

in the centre of the lists with the shock of a thunderbolt. The

lances burst into shivers up to the very grasp, and it seemed at

the moment that both knights had fallen, for the shock had made

each horse recoil backwards upon its haunches. The address of

the riders recovered their steeds by use of the bridle and spur;

and having glared on each other for an instant with eyes which

seemed to flash fire through the bars of their visors, each made

a demi-volte, and, retiring to the extremity of the lists,

received a fresh lance from the attendants.

A loud shout from the spectators, waving of scarfs and

handkerchiefs, and general acclamations, attested the interest

taken by the spectators in this encounter; the most equal, as

well as the best performed, which had graced the day. But no

sooner had the knights resumed their station, than the clamour

of applause was hushed into a silence, so deep and so dead, that

it seemed the multitude were afraid even to breathe.

A few minutes pause having been allowed, that the combatants and

their horses might recover breath, Prince John with his truncheon

signed to the trumpets to sound the onset. The champions a

second time sprung from their stations, and closed in the centre

of the lists, with the same speed, the same dexterity, the same

violence, but not the same equal fortune as before.

In this second encounter, the Templar aimed at the centre of his

antagonist’s shield, and struck it so fair and forcibly, that his

spear went to shivers, and the Disinherited Knight reeled in his

saddle. On the other hand, that champion had, in the beginning

of his career, directed the point of his lance towards

Bois-Guilbert’s shield, but, changing his aim almost in the

moment of encounter, he addressed it to the helmet, a mark more

difficult to hit, but which, if attained, rendered the shock more

irresistible. Fair and true he hit the Norman on the visor,

where his lance’s point kept hold of the bars. Yet, even at this

disadvantage, the Templar sustained his high reputation; and had

not the girths of his saddle burst, he might not have been

unhorsed. As it chanced, however, saddle, horse, and man, rolled

on the ground under a cloud of dust.

To extricate himself from the stirrups and fallen steed, was to

the Templar scarce the work of a moment; and, stung with madness,

both at his disgrace and at the acclamations with which it was

hailed by the spectators, he drew his sword and waved it in

defiance of his conqueror. The Disinherited Knight sprung from

his steed, and also unsheathed his sword. The marshals of the

field, however, spurred their horses between them, and reminded

them, that the laws of the tournament did not, on the present

occasion, permit this species of encounter.

“We shall meet again, I trust,” said the Templar, casting a

resentful glance at his antagonist; “and where there are none to

separate us.”

“If we do not,” said the Disinherited Knight, “the fault shall

not be mine. On foot or horseback, with spear, with axe, or with

sword, I am alike ready to encounter thee.”

More and angrier words would have been exchanged, but the

marshals, crossing their lances betwixt them, compelled them to

separate. The Disinherited Knight returned to his first station,

and Bois-Guilbert to his tent, where he remained for the rest of

the day in an agony of despair.

Without alighting from his horse, the conqueror called for a bowl

of wine, and opening the beaver, or lower part of his helmet,

announced that he quaffed it, “To all true English hearts, and to

the confusion of foreign tyrants.” He then commanded his trumpet

to sound a defiance to the challengers, and desired a herald to

announce to them, that he should make no election, but was

willing to encounter them in the order in which they pleased to

advance against him.

The gigantic Front-de-Boeuf, armed in sable armour, was the first

who took the field. He bore on a white shield a black bull’s

head, half defaced by the numerous encounters which he had

undergone, and bearing the arrogant motto, “Cave, Adsum”. Over

this champion the Disinherited Knight obtained a slight but

decisive advantage. Both Knights broke their lances fairly, but

Front-de-Boeuf, who lost a stirrup in the encounter, was adjudged

to have the disadvantage.

In the stranger’s third encounter with Sir Philip Malvoisin, he

was equally successful; striking that baron so forcibly on the

casque, that the laces of the helmet broke, and Malvoisin, only

saved from falling by being unhelmeted, was declared vanquished

like his companions.

In his fourth combat with De Grantmesnil, the Disinherited Knight

showed as much courtesy as he had hitherto evinced courage and

dexterity. De Grantmesnil’s horse, which was young and violent,

reared and plunged in the course of the career so as to disturb

the rider’s aim, and the stranger, declining to take the

advantage which this accident afforded him, raised his lance, and

passing his antagonist without touching him, wheeled his horse

and rode back again to his own end of the lists, offering his

antagonist, by a herald, the chance of a second encounter. This

De Grantmesnil declined, avowing himself vanquished as much by

the courtesy as by the address of his opponent.

Ralph de Vipont summed up the list of the stranger’s triumphs,

being hurled to the ground with such force, that the blood gushed

from his nose and his mouth, and he was borne senseless from the

lists.

The acclamations of thousands applauded the unanimous award of

the Prince and marshals, announcing that day’s honours to the

Disinherited Knight.

CHAPTER IX

--------In the midst was seen

A lady of a more majestic mien,

By stature and by beauty mark’d their sovereign Queen.

*

And as in beauty she surpass’d the choir,

So nobler than the rest was her attire;

A crown of ruddy gold enclosed her brow,

Plain without pomp, and rich without a show;

A branch of Agnus Castus in her hand,

She bore aloft her symbol of command.

The Flower and the Leaf

William de Wyvil and Stephen de Martival, the marshals of the

field, were the first to offer their congratulations to the

victor, praying him, at the same time, to suffer his helmet to be

unlaced, or, at least, that he would raise his visor ere they

conducted him to receive the prize of the day’s tourney from the

hands of Prince John. The Disinherited Knight, with all knightly

courtesy, declined their request, alleging, that he could not at

this time suffer his face to be seen, for reasons which he had

assigned to the heralds when he entered the lists. The marshals

were perfectly satisfied by this reply; for amidst the frequent

and capricious vows by which knights were accustomed to bind

themselves in the days of chivalry, there were none more common

than those by which they engaged to remain incognito for a

certain space, or until some particular adventure was achieved.

The marshals, therefore, pressed no farther into the mystery of

the Disinherited Knight, but, announcing to Prince John the

conqueror’s desire to remain unknown, they requested permission

to bring him before his Grace, in order that he might receive

the reward of his valour.

John’s curiosity was excited by the mystery observed by the

stranger; and, being already displeased with the issue of the

tournament, in which the challengers whom he favoured had been

successively defeated by one knight, he answered haughtily to

the marshals, “By the light of Our Lady’s brow, this same knight

hath been disinherited as well of his courtesy as of his lands,

since he desires to appear before us without uncovering his face.

---Wot ye, my lords,” be said, turning round to his train, “who

this gallant can be, that bears himself thus proudly?”

“I cannot guess,” answered De Bracy, “nor did I think there had

been within the four seas that girth Britain a champion that

could bear down these five knights in one day’s jousting. By my

faith, I shall never forget the force with which he shocked De

Vipont. The poor Hospitaller was hurled from his saddle like a

stone from a sling.”

“Boast not of that,” said a Knight of St John, who was present;

“your Temple champion had no better luck. I saw your brave

lance, Bois-Guilbert, roll thrice over, grasping his hands full

of sand at every turn.”

De Bracy, being attached to the Templars, would have replied, but

was prevented by