ariondas/full_text_dataset · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 1.91k
of the sun to enable them to bear the fixed glance of a crusader."

"If I have offended," replied Sir Brian, "I crave your pardon,--that
is, I crave the Lady Rowena's pardon,--for my humility will carry me no
lower."

"The Lady Rowena," said the Prior, "has punished us all, in chastising
the boldness of my friend. Let me hope she will be less cruel to the
splendid train which are to meet at the tournament."

"Our going thither," said Cedric, "is uncertain. I love not these
vanities, which were unknown to my fathers when England was free."

"Let us hope, nevertheless," said the Prior, "our company may determine
you to travel thitherward; when the roads are so unsafe, the escort of
Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert is not to be despised."

"Sir Prior," answered the Saxon, "wheresoever I have travelled in this
land, I have hitherto found myself, with the assistance of my good sword
and faithful followers, in no respect needful of other aid. At present,
if we indeed journey to Ashby-de-la-Zouche, we do so with my noble
neighbour and countryman Athelstane of Coningsburgh, and with such a
train as would set outlaws and feudal enemies at defiance.--I drink
to you, Sir Prior, in this cup of wine, which I trust your taste will
approve, and I thank you for your courtesy. Should you be so rigid
in adhering to monastic rule," he added, "as to prefer your acid
preparation of milk, I hope you will not strain courtesy to do me
reason."

"Nay," said the Priest, laughing, "it is only in our abbey that we
confine ourselves to the 'lac dulce' or the 'lac acidum' either.
Conversing with, the world, we use the world's fashions, and therefore
I answer your pledge in this honest wine, and leave the weaker liquor to
my lay-brother."

"And I," said the Templar, filling his goblet, "drink wassail to the
fair Rowena; for since her namesake introduced the word into England,
has never been one more worthy of such a tribute. By my faith, I could
pardon the unhappy Vortigern, had he half the cause that we now witness,
for making shipwreck of his honour and his kingdom."

"I will spare your courtesy, Sir Knight," said Rowena with dignity, and
without unveiling herself; "or rather I will tax it so far as to require
of you the latest news from Palestine, a theme more agreeable to our
English ears than the compliments which your French breeding teaches."

"I have little of importance to say, lady," answered Sir Brian de
Bois-Guilbert, "excepting the confirmed tidings of a truce with
Saladin."

He was interrupted by Wamba, who had taken his appropriated seat upon
a chair, the back of which was decorated with two ass's ears, and which
was placed about two steps behind that of his master, who, from time
to time, supplied him with victuals from his own trencher; a favour,
however, which the Jester shared with the favourite dogs, of whom, as we
have already noticed, there were several in attendance. Here sat Wamba,
with a small table before him, his heels tucked up against the bar of
the chair, his cheeks sucked up so as to make his jaws resemble a pair
of nut-crackers, and his eyes half-shut, yet watching with alertness
every opportunity to exercise his licensed foolery.

"These truces with the infidels," he exclaimed, without caring how
suddenly he interrupted the stately Templar, "make an old man of me!"

"Go to, knave, how so?" said Cedric, his features prepared to receive
favourably the expected jest.

"Because," answered Wamba, "I remember three of them in my day, each
of which was to endure for the course of fifty years; so that, by
computation, I must be at least a hundred and fifty years old."

"I will warrant you against dying of old age, however," said the
Templar, who now recognised his friend of the forest; "I will assure
you from all deaths but a violent one, if you give such directions to
wayfarers, as you did this night to the Prior and me."

"How, sirrah!" said Cedric, "misdirect travellers? We must have you
whipt; you are at least as much rogue as fool."

"I pray thee, uncle," answered the Jester, "let my folly, for once,
protect my roguery. I did but make a mistake between my right hand and
my left; and he might have pardoned a greater, who took a fool for his
counsellor and guide."

Conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of the porter's
page, who announced that there was a stranger at the gate, imploring
admittance and hospitality.

"Admit him," said Cedric, "be he who or what he may;--a night like that
which roars without, compels even wild animals to herd with tame, and to
seek the protection of man, their mortal foe, rather than perish by
the elements. Let his wants be ministered to with all care--look to it,
Oswald."

And the steward left the banqueting hall to see the commands of his
patron obeyed.

of the sun to enable them to bear the fixed glance of a crusader."

"If I have offended," replied Sir Brian, "I crave your pardon,--that

is, I crave the Lady Rowena's pardon,--for my humility will carry me no

lower."

"The Lady Rowena," said the Prior, "has punished us all, in chastising

the boldness of my friend. Let me hope she will be less cruel to the

splendid train which are to meet at the tournament."

"Our going thither," said Cedric, "is uncertain. I love not these

vanities, which were unknown to my fathers when England was free."

"Let us hope, nevertheless," said the Prior, "our company may determine

you to travel thitherward; when the roads are so unsafe, the escort of

Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert is not to be despised."

"Sir Prior," answered the Saxon, "wheresoever I have travelled in this

land, I have hitherto found myself, with the assistance of my good sword

and faithful followers, in no respect needful of other aid. At present,

if we indeed journey to Ashby-de-la-Zouche, we do so with my noble

neighbour and countryman Athelstane of Coningsburgh, and with such a

train as would set outlaws and feudal enemies at defiance.--I drink

to you, Sir Prior, in this cup of wine, which I trust your taste will

approve, and I thank you for your courtesy. Should you be so rigid

in adhering to monastic rule," he added, "as to prefer your acid

preparation of milk, I hope you will not strain courtesy to do me

reason."

"Nay," said the Priest, laughing, "it is only in our abbey that we

confine ourselves to the 'lac dulce' or the 'lac acidum' either.

Conversing with, the world, we use the world's fashions, and therefore

I answer your pledge in this honest wine, and leave the weaker liquor to

my lay-brother."

"And I," said the Templar, filling his goblet, "drink wassail to the

fair Rowena; for since her namesake introduced the word into England,

has never been one more worthy of such a tribute. By my faith, I could

pardon the unhappy Vortigern, had he half the cause that we now witness,

for making shipwreck of his honour and his kingdom."

"I will spare your courtesy, Sir Knight," said Rowena with dignity, and

without unveiling herself; "or rather I will tax it so far as to require

of you the latest news from Palestine, a theme more agreeable to our

English ears than the compliments which your French breeding teaches."

"I have little of importance to say, lady," answered Sir Brian de

Bois-Guilbert, "excepting the confirmed tidings of a truce with

Saladin."

He was interrupted by Wamba, who had taken his appropriated seat upon

a chair, the back of which was decorated with two ass's ears, and which

was placed about two steps behind that of his master, who, from time

to time, supplied him with victuals from his own trencher; a favour,

however, which the Jester shared with the favourite dogs, of whom, as we

have already noticed, there were several in attendance. Here sat Wamba,

with a small table before him, his heels tucked up against the bar of

the chair, his cheeks sucked up so as to make his jaws resemble a pair

of nut-crackers, and his eyes half-shut, yet watching with alertness

every opportunity to exercise his licensed foolery.

"These truces with the infidels," he exclaimed, without caring how

suddenly he interrupted the stately Templar, "make an old man of me!"

"Go to, knave, how so?" said Cedric, his features prepared to receive

favourably the expected jest.

"Because," answered Wamba, "I remember three of them in my day, each

of which was to endure for the course of fifty years; so that, by

computation, I must be at least a hundred and fifty years old."

"I will warrant you against dying of old age, however," said the

Templar, who now recognised his friend of the forest; "I will assure

you from all deaths but a violent one, if you give such directions to

wayfarers, as you did this night to the Prior and me."

"How, sirrah!" said Cedric, "misdirect travellers? We must have you

whipt; you are at least as much rogue as fool."

"I pray thee, uncle," answered the Jester, "let my folly, for once,

protect my roguery. I did but make a mistake between my right hand and

my left; and he might have pardoned a greater, who took a fool for his

counsellor and guide."

Conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of the porter's

page, who announced that there was a stranger at the gate, imploring

admittance and hospitality.

"Admit him," said Cedric, "be he who or what he may;--a night like that

which roars without, compels even wild animals to herd with tame, and to

seek the protection of man, their mortal foe, rather than perish by

the elements. Let his wants be ministered to with all care--look to it,

Oswald."

And the steward left the banqueting hall to see the commands of his

patron obeyed.