ariondas/full_text_dataset · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 1.91k
it?"

"Marry, brother Brian," replied the Prior, "touching the one of them, it
were hard for me to render a reason for a fool speaking according to his
folly; and the other churl is of that savage, fierce, intractable race,
some of whom, as I have often told you, are still to be found among the
descendants of the conquered Saxons, and whose supreme pleasure it is
to testify, by all means in their power, their aversion to their
conquerors."

"I would soon have beat him into courtesy," observed Brian; "I am
accustomed to deal with such spirits: Our Turkish captives are as fierce
and intractable as Odin himself could have been; yet two months in my
household, under the management of my master of the slaves, has made
them humble, submissive, serviceable, and observant of your will. Marry,
sir, you must be aware of the poison and the dagger; for they use either
with free will when you give them the slightest opportunity."

"Ay, but," answered Prior Aymer, "every land has its own manners and
fashions; and, besides that beating this fellow could procure us no
information respecting the road to Cedric's house, it would have been
sure to have established a quarrel betwixt you and him had we found our
way thither. Remember what I told you: this wealthy franklin is proud,
fierce, jealous, and irritable, a withstander of the nobility, and even
of his neighbors, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf and Philip Malvoisin, who are
no babies to strive with. He stands up sternly for the privileges of
his race, and is so proud of his uninterrupted descend from Hereward, a
renowned champion of the Heptarchy, that he is universally called Cedric
the Saxon; and makes a boast of his belonging to a people from whom
many others endeaver to hide their descent, lest they should encounter a
share of the 'vae victis,' or severities imposed upon the vanquished."

"Prior Aymer," said the Templar, "you are a man of gallantry, learned
in the study of beauty, and as expert as a troubadour in all matters
concerning the 'arrets' of love; but I shall expect much beauty in this
celebrated Rowena to counterbalance the self-denial and forbearance
which I must exert if I am to court the favor of such a seditious churl
as you have described her father Cedric."

"Cedric is not her father," replied the Prior, "and is but of remote
relation: she is descended from higher blood than even he pretends to,
and is but distantly connected with him by birth. Her guardian, however,
he is, self-constituted as I believe; but his ward is as dear to him as
if she were his own child. Of her beauty you shall soon be judge; and if
the purity of her complexion, and the majestic, yet soft expression of a
mild blue eye, do not chase from your memory the black-tressed girls of
Palestine, ay, or the houris of old Mahound's paradise, I am an infidel,
and no true son of the church."

"Should your boasted beauty," said the Templar, "be weighed in the
balance and found wanting, you know our wager?"

"My gold collar," answered the Prior, "against ten butts of Chian
wine;--they are mine as securely as if they were already in the convent
vaults, under the key of old Dennis the cellarer."

"And I am myself to be judge," said the Templar, "and am only to be
convicted on my own admission, that I have seen no maiden so beautiful
since Pentecost was a twelvemonth. Ran it not so?--Prior, your collar
is in danger; I will wear it over my gorget in the lists of
Ashby-de-la-Zouche."

"Win it fairly," said the Prior, "and wear it as ye will; I will trust
your giving true response, on your word as a knight and as a churchman.
Yet, brother, take my advice, and file your tongue to a little more
courtesy than your habits of predominating over infidel captives
and Eastern bondsmen have accustomed you. Cedric the Saxon, if
offended,--and he is noway slack in taking offence,--is a man who,
without respect to your knighthood, my high office, or the sanctity
of either, would clear his house of us, and send us to lodge with the
larks, though the hour were midnight. And be careful how you look on
Rowena, whom he cherishes with the most jealous care; an he take the
least alarm in that quarter we are but lost men. It is said he banished
his only son from his family for lifting his eyes in the way of
affection towards this beauty, who may be worshipped, it seems, at a
distance, but is not to be approached with other thoughts than such as
we bring to the shrine of the Blessed Virgin."

"Well, you have said enough," answered the Templar; "I will for a night
put on the needful restraint, and deport me as meekly as a maiden; but
as for the fear of his expelling us by violence, myself and squires,
with Hamet and Abdalla, will warrant you against that disgrace. Doubt
not that we shall be strong enough to make good our quarters."

"We must not let it come so far," answered the Prior; "but here is the
clown's sunken cross, and the night is so dark that we can hardly see
which of the roads we are to follow. He bid us turn, I think to the
left."

"To the right," said Brian, "to the best of my remembrance."

"To the left, certainly, the left; I remember his pointing with his
wooden sword."

"Ay, but he held his sword in his left hand, and so pointed across his
body with it," said the Templar.

Each maintained his opinion with sufficient obstinacy, as is usual in
all such cases; the attendants were appealed to, but they had not been
near enough to hear Wamba's directions. At length Brian remarked, what

it?"

"Marry, brother Brian," replied the Prior, "touching the one of them, it

were hard for me to render a reason for a fool speaking according to his

folly; and the other churl is of that savage, fierce, intractable race,

some of whom, as I have often told you, are still to be found among the

descendants of the conquered Saxons, and whose supreme pleasure it is

to testify, by all means in their power, their aversion to their

conquerors."

"I would soon have beat him into courtesy," observed Brian; "I am

accustomed to deal with such spirits: Our Turkish captives are as fierce

and intractable as Odin himself could have been; yet two months in my

household, under the management of my master of the slaves, has made

them humble, submissive, serviceable, and observant of your will. Marry,

sir, you must be aware of the poison and the dagger; for they use either

with free will when you give them the slightest opportunity."

"Ay, but," answered Prior Aymer, "every land has its own manners and

fashions; and, besides that beating this fellow could procure us no

information respecting the road to Cedric's house, it would have been

sure to have established a quarrel betwixt you and him had we found our

way thither. Remember what I told you: this wealthy franklin is proud,

fierce, jealous, and irritable, a withstander of the nobility, and even

of his neighbors, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf and Philip Malvoisin, who are

no babies to strive with. He stands up sternly for the privileges of

his race, and is so proud of his uninterrupted descend from Hereward, a

renowned champion of the Heptarchy, that he is universally called Cedric

the Saxon; and makes a boast of his belonging to a people from whom

many others endeaver to hide their descent, lest they should encounter a

share of the 'vae victis,' or severities imposed upon the vanquished."

"Prior Aymer," said the Templar, "you are a man of gallantry, learned

in the study of beauty, and as expert as a troubadour in all matters

concerning the 'arrets' of love; but I shall expect much beauty in this

celebrated Rowena to counterbalance the self-denial and forbearance

which I must exert if I am to court the favor of such a seditious churl

as you have described her father Cedric."

"Cedric is not her father," replied the Prior, "and is but of remote

relation: she is descended from higher blood than even he pretends to,

and is but distantly connected with him by birth. Her guardian, however,

he is, self-constituted as I believe; but his ward is as dear to him as

if she were his own child. Of her beauty you shall soon be judge; and if

the purity of her complexion, and the majestic, yet soft expression of a

mild blue eye, do not chase from your memory the black-tressed girls of

Palestine, ay, or the houris of old Mahound's paradise, I am an infidel,

and no true son of the church."

"Should your boasted beauty," said the Templar, "be weighed in the

balance and found wanting, you know our wager?"

"My gold collar," answered the Prior, "against ten butts of Chian

wine;--they are mine as securely as if they were already in the convent

vaults, under the key of old Dennis the cellarer."

"And I am myself to be judge," said the Templar, "and am only to be

convicted on my own admission, that I have seen no maiden so beautiful

since Pentecost was a twelvemonth. Ran it not so?--Prior, your collar

is in danger; I will wear it over my gorget in the lists of

Ashby-de-la-Zouche."

"Win it fairly," said the Prior, "and wear it as ye will; I will trust

your giving true response, on your word as a knight and as a churchman.

Yet, brother, take my advice, and file your tongue to a little more

courtesy than your habits of predominating over infidel captives

and Eastern bondsmen have accustomed you. Cedric the Saxon, if

offended,--and he is noway slack in taking offence,--is a man who,

without respect to your knighthood, my high office, or the sanctity

of either, would clear his house of us, and send us to lodge with the

larks, though the hour were midnight. And be careful how you look on

Rowena, whom he cherishes with the most jealous care; an he take the

least alarm in that quarter we are but lost men. It is said he banished

his only son from his family for lifting his eyes in the way of

affection towards this beauty, who may be worshipped, it seems, at a

distance, but is not to be approached with other thoughts than such as

we bring to the shrine of the Blessed Virgin."

"Well, you have said enough," answered the Templar; "I will for a night

put on the needful restraint, and deport me as meekly as a maiden; but

as for the fear of his expelling us by violence, myself and squires,

with Hamet and Abdalla, will warrant you against that disgrace. Doubt

not that we shall be strong enough to make good our quarters."

"We must not let it come so far," answered the Prior; "but here is the

clown's sunken cross, and the night is so dark that we can hardly see

which of the roads we are to follow. He bid us turn, I think to the

left."

"To the right," said Brian, "to the best of my remembrance."

"To the left, certainly, the left; I remember his pointing with his

wooden sword."

"Ay, but he held his sword in his left hand, and so pointed across his

body with it," said the Templar.

Each maintained his opinion with sufficient obstinacy, as is usual in

all such cases; the attendants were appealed to, but they had not been

near enough to hear Wamba's directions. At length Brian remarked, what