Ivanhoe: A Romance

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XX

  When autumn nights were long and drear, And forest walks were dark and dim, How sweetly on the pilgrim's ear Was wont to steal the hermit's hymn

  Devotion borrows Music's tone, And Music took Devotion's wing; And, like the bird that hails the sun, They soar to heaven, and soaring sing. The Hermit of St Clement's Well

  It was after three hours' good walking that the servants of Cedric, withtheir mysterious guide, arrived at a small opening in the forest, inthe centre of which grew an oak-tree of enormous magnitude, throwingits twisted branches in every direction. Beneath this tree four or fiveyeomen lay stretched on the ground, while another, as sentinel, walkedto and fro in the moonlight shade.

  Upon hearing the sound of feet approaching, the watch instantly gave thealarm, and the sleepers as suddenly started up and bent their bows. Sixarrows placed on the string were pointed towards the quarter from whichthe travellers approached, when their guide, being recognised, waswelcomed with every token of respect and attachment, and all signs andfears of a rough reception at once subsided.

  "Where is the Miller?" was his first question.

  "On the road towards Rotherham."

  "With how many?" demanded the leader, for such he seemed to be.

  "With six men, and good hope of booty, if it please St Nicholas."

  "Devoutly spoken," said Locksley; "and where is Allan-a-Dale?"

  "Walked up towards the Watling-street, to watch for the Prior ofJorvaulx."

  "That is well thought on also," replied the Captain;--"and where is theFriar?"

  "In his cell."

  "Thither will I go," said Locksley. "Disperse and seek your companions.Collect what force you can, for there's game afoot that must be huntedhard, and will turn to bay. Meet me here by daybreak.--And stay," headded, "I have forgotten what is most necessary of the whole--Two ofyou take the road quickly towards Torquilstone, the Castle ofFront-de-Boeuf. A set of gallants, who have been masquerading in suchguise as our own, are carrying a band of prisoners thither--Watch themclosely, for even if they reach the castle before we collect our force,our honour is concerned to punish them, and we will find means to do so.Keep a close watch on them therefore; and dispatch one of your comrades,the lightest of foot, to bring the news of the yeomen thereabout."

  They promised implicit obedience, and departed with alacrity ontheir different errands. In the meanwhile, their leader and his twocompanions, who now looked upon him with great respect, as well as somefear, pursued their way to the Chapel of Copmanhurst.

  When they had reached the little moonlight glade, having in front thereverend, though ruinous chapel, and the rude hermitage, so wellsuited to ascetic devotion, Wamba whispered to Gurth, "If this be thehabitation of a thief, it makes good the old proverb, The nearer thechurch the farther from God.--And by my coxcomb," he added, "I think itbe even so--Hearken but to the black sanctus which they are singing inthe hermitage!"

  In fact the anchorite and his guest were performing, at the full extentof their very powerful lungs, an old drinking song, of which this wasthe burden:--

  "Come, trowl the brown bowl to me, Bully boy, bully boy, Come, trowl the brown bowl to me: Ho! jolly Jenkin, I spy a knave in drinking, Come, trowl the brown bowl to me."

  "Now, that is not ill sung," said Wamba, who had thrown in a few of hisown flourishes to help out the chorus. "But who, in the saint's name,ever expected to have heard such a jolly chant come from out a hermit'scell at midnight!"

  "Marry, that should I," said Gurth, "for the jolly Clerk of Copmanhurstis a known man, and kills half the deer that are stolen in this walk.Men say that the keeper has complained to his official, and that hewill be stripped of his cowl and cope altogether, if he keeps not betterorder."

  While they were thus speaking, Locksley's loud and repeated knocks hadat length disturbed the anchorite and his guest. "By my beads," said thehermit, stopping short in a grand flourish, "here come more benightedguests. I would not for my cowl that they found us in this goodlyexercise. All men have their enemies, good Sir Sluggard; and there bethose malignant enough to construe the hospitable refreshment which Ihave been offering to you, a weary traveller, for the matter of threeshort hours, into sheer drunkenness and debauchery, vices alike alien tomy profession and my disposition."

  "Base calumniators!" replied the knight; "I would I had the chastisingof them. Nevertheless, Holy Clerk, it is true that all have theirenemies; and there be those in this very land whom I would rather speakto through the bars of my helmet than barefaced."

  "Get thine iron pot on thy head then, friend Sluggard, as quickly asthy nature will permit," said the hermit, "while I remove these pewterflagons, whose late contents run strangely in mine own pate; and todrown the clatter--for, in faith, I feel somewhat unsteady--strike intothe tune which thou hearest me sing; it is no matter for the words--Iscarce know them myself."

  So saying, he struck up a thundering "De profundis clamavi", under coverof which he removed the apparatus of their banquet: while the knight,laughing heartily, and arming himself all the while, assisted his hostwith his voice from time to time as his mirth permitted.

  "What devil's matins are you after at this hour?" said a voice fromwithout.

  "Heaven forgive you, Sir Traveller!" said the hermit, whose own noise,and perhaps his nocturnal potations, prevented from recognising accentswhich were tolerably familiar to him--"Wend on your way, in the name ofGod and Saint Dunstan, and disturb not the devotions of me and my holybrother."

  "Mad priest," answered the voice from without, "open to Locksley!"

  "All's safe--all's right," said the hermit to his companion.

  "But who is he?" said the Black Knight; "it imports me much to know."

  "Who is he?" answered the hermit; "I tell thee he is a friend."

  "But what friend?" answered the knight; "for he may be friend to theeand none of mine?"

  "What friend?" replied the hermit; "that, now, is one of the questionsthat is more easily asked than answered. What friend?--why, he is, nowthat I bethink me a little, the very same honest keeper I told thee of awhile since."

  "Ay, as honest a keeper as thou art a pious hermit," replied the knight,"I doubt it not. But undo the door to him before he beat it from itshinges."

  The dogs, in the meantime, which had made a dreadful baying at thecommencement of the disturbance, seemed now to recognise the voiceof him who stood without; for, totally changing their manner, theyscratched and whined at the door, as if interceding for his admission.The hermit speedily unbolted his portal, and admitted Locksley, with histwo companions.

  "Why, hermit," was the yeoman's first question as soon as he beheld theknight, "what boon companion hast thou here?"

  "A brother of our order," replied the friar, shaking his head; "we havebeen at our orisons all night."

  "He is a monk of the church militant, I think," answered Locksley; "andthere be more of them abroad. I tell thee, friar, thou must lay downthe rosary and take up the quarter-staff; we shall need every one of ourmerry men, whether clerk or layman.--But," he added, taking him a stepaside, "art thou mad? to give admittance to a knight thou dost not know?Hast thou forgot our articles?"

  "Not know him!" replied the friar, boldly, "I know him as well as thebeggar knows his dish."

  "And what is his name, then?" demanded Locksley.

  "His name," said the hermit--"his name is Sir Anthony ofScrabelstone--as if I would drink with a man, and did not know hisname!"

  "Thou hast been drinking more than enough, friar," said the woodsman,"and, I fear, prating more than enough too."

  "Good yeoman," said the knight, coming forward, "be not wroth with mymerry host. He did but afford me the hospitality which I would havecompelled from him if he had refused it."

  "Thou compel!" said the friar; "wait but till have changed this greygown for a green cassock, and if I make not a quarter-staff ring twelveupon thy pate, I am neither true clerk nor good w
oodsman."

  While he spoke thus, he stript off his gown, and appeared in a closeblack buckram doublet and drawers, over which he speedily did on acassock of green, and hose of the same colour. "I pray thee truss mypoints," said he to Wamba, "and thou shalt have a cup of sack for thylabour."

  "Gramercy for thy sack," said Wamba; "but think'st thou it is lawfulfor me to aid you to transmew thyself from a holy hermit into a sinfulforester?"

  "Never fear," said the hermit; "I will but confess the sins of my greencloak to my greyfriar's frock, and all shall be well again."

  "Amen!" answered the Jester; "a broadcloth penitent should have asackcloth confessor, and your frock may absolve my motley doublet intothe bargain."

  So saying, he accommodated the friar with his assistance in tying theendless number of points, as the laces which attached the hose to thedoublet were then termed.

  While they were thus employed, Locksley led the knight a little apart,and addressed him thus:--"Deny it not, Sir Knight--you are he whodecided the victory to the advantage of the English against thestrangers on the second day of the tournament at Ashby."

  "And what follows if you guess truly, good yeoman?" replied the knight.

  "I should in that case hold you," replied the yeoman, "a friend to theweaker party."

  "Such is the duty of a true knight at least," replied the BlackChampion; "and I would not willingly that there were reason to thinkotherwise of me."

  "But for my purpose," said the yeoman, "thou shouldst be as well agood Englishman as a good knight; for that, which I have to speak of,concerns, indeed, the duty of every honest man, but is more especiallythat of a true-born native of England."

  "You can speak to no one," replied the knight, "to whom England, and thelife of every Englishman, can be dearer than to me."

  "I would willingly believe so," said the woodsman, "for never had thiscountry such need to be supported by those who love her. Hear me, andI will tell thee of an enterprise, in which, if thou be'st reallythat which thou seemest, thou mayst take an honourable part. A bandof villains, in the disguise of better men than themselves, have madethemselves master of the person of a noble Englishman, called Cedricthe Saxon, together with his ward, and his friend Athelstane ofConingsburgh, and have transported them to a castle in this forest,called Torquilstone. I ask of thee, as a good knight and a goodEnglishman, wilt thou aid in their rescue?"

  "I am bound by my vow to do so," replied the knight; "but I wouldwillingly know who you are, who request my assistance in their behalf?"

  "I am," said the forester, "a nameless man; but I am the friend of mycountry, and of my country's friends--With this account of me you mustfor the present remain satisfied, the more especially since you yourselfdesire to continue unknown. Believe, however, that my word, whenpledged, is as inviolate as if I wore golden spurs."

  "I willingly believe it," said the knight; "I have been accustomedto study men's countenances, and I can read in thine honesty andresolution. I will, therefore, ask thee no further questions, but aidthee in setting at freedom these oppressed captives; which done, I trustwe shall part better acquainted, and well satisfied with each other."

  "So," said Wamba to Gurth,--for the friar being now fully equipped, theJester, having approached to the other side of the hut, had heard theconclusion of the conversation,--"So we have got a new ally?--l trustthe valour of the knight will be truer metal than the religion of thehermit, or the honesty of the yeoman; for this Locksley looks like aborn deer-stealer, and the priest like a lusty hypocrite."

  "Hold thy peace, Wamba," said Gurth; "it may all be as thou dost guess;but were the horned devil to rise and proffer me his assistance toset at liberty Cedric and the Lady Rowena, I fear I should hardly havereligion enough to refuse the foul fiend's offer, and bid him get behindme."

  The friar was now completely accoutred as a yeoman, with sword andbuckler, bow, and quiver, and a strong partisan over his shoulder. Heleft his cell at the head of the party, and, having carefully locked thedoor, deposited the key under the threshold.

  "Art thou in condition to do good service, friar," said Locksley, "ordoes the brown bowl still run in thy head?"

  "Not more than a drought of St Dunstan's fountain will allay," answeredthe priest; "something there is of a whizzing in my brain, and ofinstability in my legs, but you shall presently see both pass away."

  So saying, he stepped to the stone basin, in which the waters ofthe fountain as they fell formed bubbles which danced in the whitemoonlight, and took so long a drought as if he had meant to exhaust thespring.

  "When didst thou drink as deep a drought of water before, Holy Clerk ofCopmanhurst?" said the Black Knight.

  "Never since my wine-butt leaked, and let out its liquor by an illegalvent," replied the friar, "and so left me nothing to drink but mypatron's bounty here."

  Then plunging his hands and head into the fountain, he washed from themall marks of the midnight revel.

  Thus refreshed and sobered, the jolly priest twirled his heavy partisanround his head with three fingers, as if he had been balancing a reed,exclaiming at the same time, "Where be those false ravishers, who carryoff wenches against their will? May the foul fiend fly off with me, if Iam not man enough for a dozen of them."

  "Swearest thou, Holy Clerk?" said the Black Knight.

  "Clerk me no Clerks," replied the transformed priest; "by Saint Georgeand the Dragon, I am no longer a shaveling than while my frock is on myback--When I am cased in my green cassock, I will drink, swear, and wooa lass, with any blithe forester in the West Riding."

  "Come on, Jack Priest," said Locksley, "and be silent; thou art as noisyas a whole convent on a holy eve, when the Father Abbot has gone tobed.--Come on you, too, my masters, tarry not to talk of it--I say, comeon, we must collect all our forces, and few enough we shall have, if weare to storm the Castle of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf."

  "What! is it Front-de-Boeuf," said the Black Knight, "who has stopt onthe king's highway the king's liege subjects?--Is he turned thief andoppressor?"

  "Oppressor he ever was," said Locksley.

  "And for thief," said the priest, "I doubt if ever he were even half sohonest a man as many a thief of my acquaintance."

  "Move on, priest, and be silent," said the yeoman; "it were better youled the way to the place of rendezvous, than say what should be leftunsaid, both in decency and prudence."