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

from which you have but this moment narrowly escaped.”

“Ho! ho! my kingdom and my subjects?” answered Richard,

impatiently; “I tell thee, Sir Wilfred, the best of them are most

willing to repay my follies in kind---For example, my very

faithful servant, Wilfred of Ivanhoe, will not obey my positive

commands, and yet reads his king a homily, because he does not

walk exactly by his advice. Which of us has most reason to

upbraid the other?---Yet forgive me, my faithful Wilfred. The

time I have spent, and am yet to spend in concealment, is, as I

explained to thee at Saint Botolph’s, necessary to give my

friends and faithful nobles time to assemble their forces, that

when Richard’s return is announced, he should be at the head of

such a force as enemies shall tremble to face, and thus subdue

the meditated treason, without even unsheathing a sword.

Estoteville and Bohun will not be strong enough to move forward

to York for twenty-four hours. I must have news of Salisbury

from the south; and of Beauchamp, in Warwickshire; and of Multon

and Percy in the north. The Chancellor must make sure of London.

Too sudden an appearance would subject me to dangers, other than

my lance and sword, though backed by the bow of bold Robin, or

the quarter-staff of Friar Tuck, and the horn of the sage Wamba,

may be able to rescue me from.”

Wilfred bowed in submission, well knowing how vain it was to

contend with the wild spirit of chivalry which so often impelled

his master upon dangers which he might easily have avoided, or

rather, which it was unpardonable in him to have sought out. The

young knight sighed, therefore, and held his peace; while

Richard, rejoiced at having silenced his counsellor, though his

heart acknowledged the justice of the charge he had brought

against him, went on in conversation with Robin Hood.---“King of

Outlaws,” he said, “have you no refreshment to offer to your

brother sovereign? for these dead knaves have found me both in

exercise and appetite.”

“In troth,” replied the Outlaw, “for I scorn to lie to your

Grace, our larder is chiefly supplied with---” He stopped, and

was somewhat embarrassed.

“With venison, I suppose?” said Richard, gaily; “better food at

need there can be none---and truly, if a king will not remain at

home and slay his own game, methinks he should not brawl too loud

if he finds it killed to his hand.”

“If your Grace, then,” said Robin, “will again honour with your

presence one of Robin Hood’s places of rendezvous, the venison

shall not be lacking; and a stoup of ale, and it may be a cup of

reasonably good wine, to relish it withal.”

The Outlaw accordingly led the way, followed by the buxom

Monarch, more happy, probably, in this chance meeting with Robin

Hood and his foresters, than he would have been in again assuming

his royal state, and presiding over a splendid circle of peers

and nobles. Novelty in society and adventure were the zest of

life to Richard Coeur-de-Lion, and it had its highest relish when

enhanced by dangers encountered and surmounted. In the

lion-hearted King, the brilliant, but useless character, of a

knight of romance, was in a great measure realized and revived;

and the personal glory which he acquired by his own deeds of

arms, was far more dear to his excited imagination, than that

which a course of policy and wisdom would have spread around his

government. Accordingly, his reign was like the course of a

brilliant and rapid meteor, which shoots along the face of

Heaven, shedding around an unnecessary and portentous light,

which is instantly swallowed up by universal darkness; his feats

of chivalry furnishing themes for bards and minstrels, but

affording none of those solid benefits to his country on which

history loves to pause, and hold up as an example to posterity.

But in his present company Richard showed to the greatest

imaginable advantage. He was gay, good-humoured, and fond of

manhood in every rank of life.

Beneath a huge oak-tree the silvan repast was hastily prepared

for the King of England, surrounded by men outlaws to his

government, but who now formed his court and his guard. As the

flagon went round, the rough foresters soon lost their awe for

the presence of Majesty. The song and the jest were exchanged

---the stories of former deeds were told with advantage; and at

length, and while boasting of their successful infraction of the

laws, no one recollected they were speaking in presence of their

natural guardian. The merry King, nothing heeding his dignity

any more than his company, laughed, quaffed, and jested among the

jolly band. The natural and rough sense of Robin Hood led him to

be desirous that the scene should be closed ere any thing should

occur to disturb its harmony, the more especially that he

observed Ivanhoe’s brow clouded with anxiety. “We are honoured,”

he said to Ivanhoe, apart, “by the presence of our gallant

Sovereign; yet I would not that he dallied with time, which the

circumstances of his kingdom may render precious.”

“It is well and wisely spoken, brave Robin Hood,” said Wilfred,

apart; “and know, moreover, that they who jest with Majesty even

in its gayest mood are but toying with the lion’s whelp, which,

on slight provocation, uses both fangs and claws.”

“You have touched the very cause of my fear,” said the Outlaw;

“my men are rough by practice and nature, the King is hasty as

well as good-humoured; nor know I how soon cause of offence may

arise, or how warmly it may be received---it is time this revel

were broken off.”

“It must be by your management then, gallant yeoman,” said

Ivanhoe; “for each hint I have essayed to give him serves only to

induce him to prolong it.”

“Must I so soon risk the pardon and favour of my Sovereign?” said

Robin Hood, pausing for all instant; “but by Saint Christopher,

it shall be so. I were undeserving his grace did I not peril it

for his good.---Here, Scathlock, get thee behind yonder thicket,

and wind me a Norman blast on thy bugle, and without an instant’s

delay on peril of your life.”

Scathlock obeyed his captain, and in less than five minutes the

revellers were startled by the sound of his horn.

“It is the bugle of Malvoisin,” said the Miller, starting to his

feet, and seizing his bow. The Friar dropped the flagon, and

grasped his quarter-staff. Wamba stopt short in the midst of a

jest, and betook himself to sword and target. All the others

stood to their weapons.

Men of their precarious course of life change readily from the

banquet to the battle; and, to Richard, the exchange seemed but a

succession of pleasure. He called for his helmet and the most

cumbrous parts of his armour, which he had laid aside; and while

Gurth was putting them on, he laid his strict injunctions on

Wilfred, under pain of his highest displeasure, not to engage in

the skirmish which he supposed was approaching.

“Thou hast fought for me an hundred times, Wilfred,---and I have

seen it. Thou shalt this day look on, and see how Richard will

fight for his friend and liegeman.”

In the meantime, Robin Hood had sent off several of his followers

in different directions, as if to reconnoitre the enemy; and when

he saw the company effectually broken up, he approached Richard,

who was now completely armed, and, kneeling down on one knee,

craved pardon of his Sovereign.

“For what, good yeoman?” said Richard, somewhat impatiently.

“Have we not already granted thee a full pardon for all

transgressions? Thinkest thou our word is a feather, to be blown

backward and forward between us? Thou canst not have had time to

commit any new offence since that time?”

“Ay, but I have though,” answered the yeoman, “if it be an

offence to deceive my prince for his own advantage. The bugle

you have heard was none of Malvoisin’s, but blown by my

direction, to break off the banquet, lest it trenched upon hours

of dearer import than to be thus dallied with.”

He then rose from his knee, folded his arm on his bosom, and in a

manner rather respectful than submissive, awaited the answer of

the King,---like one who is conscious he may have given offence,

yet is confident in the rectitude of his motive. The blood

rushed in anger to the countenance of Richard; but it was the

first transient emotion, and his sense of justice instantly

subdued it.

“The King of Sherwood,” he said, “grudges his venison and his

wine-flask to the King of England? It is well, bold Robin!---but

when you come to see me in merry London, I trust to be a less

niggard host. Thou art right, however, good fellow. Let us

therefore to horse and away---Wilfred has been impatient this

hour. Tell me, bold Robin, hast thou never a friend in thy band,

who, not content with advising, will needs direct thy motions,

and look miserable when thou dost presume to act for thyself?”

“Such a one,” said Robin, “is my Lieutenant, Little John, who is

even now absent on an expedition as far as the borders of

Scotland; and I will own to your Majesty, that I am sometimes

displeased by the freedom of his councils---but, when I think

twice, I cannot be long angry with one who can have no motive for

his anxiety save zeal for his master’s service.”

“Thou art right, good yeoman,” answered Richard; “and if I had

Ivanhoe, on the one hand, to give grave advice, and recommend it

by the sad gravity of his brow, and thee, on the other, to trick

me into what thou thinkest my own good, I should have as little

the freedom of mine own will as any king in Christendom or

Heathenesse.---But come, sirs, let us merrily on to Coningsburgh,

and think no more on’t.”

Robin Hood assured them that he had detached a party in the

direction of the road they were to pass, who would not fail to

discover and apprize them of any secret ambuscade; and that he

had little doubt they would find the ways secure, or, if

otherwise, would receive such timely notice of the danger as

would enable them to fall back on a strong troop of archers, with

which he himself proposed to follow on the same route.

The wise and attentive precautions adopted for his safety touched

Richard’s feelings, and removed any slight grudge which he might

retain on account of the deception the Outlaw Captain had

practised upon him. He once more extended his hand to Robin

Hood, assured him of his full pardon and future favour, as well

as his firm resolution to restrain the tyrannical exercise of the

forest rights and other oppressive laws, by which so many English

yeomen were driven into a state of rebellion. But Richard’s good

intentions towards the bold Outlaw were frustrated by the King’s

untimely death; and the Charter of the Forest was extorted from

the unwilling hands of King John when he succeeded to his heroic

brother. As for the rest of Robin Hood’s career, as well as the

tale of his treacherous death, they are to be found in those

black-letter garlands, once sold at the low and easy rate of one

halfpenny,

“Now cheaply purchased at their weight in gold.”

The Outlaw’s opinion proved true; and the King, attended by

Ivanhoe, Gurth, and Wamba, arrived, without any interruption,

within view of the Castle of Coningsburgh, while the sun was yet

in the horizon.

There are few more beautiful or striking scenes in England, than

are presented by the vicinity of this ancient Saxon fortress.

The soft and gentle river