ariondas/full_text_dataset · Datasets at Hugging Face

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no longer detain from repose."

One of the maidens presented a silver cup, containing a rich mixture of
wine and spice, which Rowena barely put to her lips. It was then offered
to the Palmer, who, after a low obeisance, tasted a few drops.

"Accept this alms, friend," continued the lady, offering a piece of
gold, "in acknowledgment of thy painful travail, and of the shrines thou
hast visited."

The Palmer received the boon with another low reverence, and followed
Edwina out of the apartment.

In the anteroom he found his attendant Anwold, who, taking the torch
from the hand of the waiting-maid, conducted him with more haste than
ceremony to an exterior and ignoble part of the building, where a number
of small apartments, or rather cells, served for sleeping places to the
lower order of domestics, and to strangers of mean degree.

"In which of these sleeps the Jew?" said the Pilgrim.

"The unbelieving dog," answered Anwold, "kennels in the cell next your
holiness.--St Dunstan, how it must be scraped and cleansed ere it be
again fit for a Christian!"

"And where sleeps Gurth the swineherd?" said the stranger.

"Gurth," replied the bondsman, "sleeps in the cell on your right, as the
Jew on that to your left; you serve to keep the child of circumcision
separate from the abomination of his tribe. You might have occupied a
more honourable place had you accepted of Oswald's invitation."

"It is as well as it is," said the Palmer; "the company, even of a Jew,
can hardly spread contamination through an oaken partition."

So saying, he entered the cabin allotted to him, and taking the torch
from the domestic's hand, thanked him, and wished him good-night. Having
shut the door of his cell, he placed the torch in a candlestick made of
wood, and looked around his sleeping apartment, the furniture of which
was of the most simple kind. It consisted of a rude wooden stool,
and still ruder hutch or bed-frame, stuffed with clean straw, and
accommodated with two or three sheepskins by way of bed-clothes.

The Palmer, having extinguished his torch, threw himself, without taking
off any part of his clothes, on this rude couch, and slept, or at least
retained his recumbent posture, till the earliest sunbeams found their
way through the little grated window, which served at once to admit both
air and light to his uncomfortable cell. He then started up, and after
repeating his matins, and adjusting his dress, he left it, and entered
that of Isaac the Jew, lifting the latch as gently as he could.

The inmate was lying in troubled slumber upon a couch similar to that on
which the Palmer himself had passed the night. Such parts of his dress
as the Jew had laid aside on the preceding evening, were disposed
carefully around his person, as if to prevent the hazard of their
being carried off during his slumbers. There was a trouble on his brow
amounting almost to agony. His hands and arms moved convulsively, as
if struggling with the nightmare; and besides several ejaculations in
Hebrew, the following were distinctly heard in the Norman-English, or
mixed language of the country: "For the sake of the God of Abraham,
spare an unhappy old man! I am poor, I am penniless--should your irons
wrench my limbs asunder, I could not gratify you!"

The Palmer awaited not the end of the Jew's vision, but stirred him with
his pilgrim's staff. The touch probably associated, as is usual, with
some of the apprehensions excited by his dream; for the old man started
up, his grey hair standing almost erect upon his head, and huddling some
part of his garments about him, while he held the detached pieces with
the tenacious grasp of a falcon, he fixed upon the Palmer his keen black
eyes, expressive of wild surprise and of bodily apprehension.

"Fear nothing from me, Isaac," said the Palmer, "I come as your friend."

"The God of Israel requite you," said the Jew, greatly relieved; "I
dreamed--But Father Abraham be praised, it was but a dream." Then,
collecting himself, he added in his usual tone, "And what may it be your
pleasure to want at so early an hour with the poor Jew?"

"It is to tell you," said the Palmer, "that if you leave not this
mansion instantly, and travel not with some haste, your journey may
prove a dangerous one."

"Holy father!" said the Jew, "whom could it interest to endanger so poor
a wretch as I am?"

"The purpose you can best guess," said the Pilgrim; "but rely on this,
that when the Templar crossed the hall yesternight, he spoke to his
Mussulman slaves in the Saracen language, which I well understand, and
charged them this morning to watch the journey of the Jew, to seize upon
him when at a convenient distance from the mansion, and to conduct
him to the castle of Philip de Malvoisin, or to that of Reginald
Front-de-Boeuf."

It is impossible to describe the extremity of terror which seized upon
the Jew at this information, and seemed at once to overpower his whole
faculties. His arms fell down to his sides, and his head drooped on his
breast, his knees bent under his weight, every nerve and muscle of his
frame seemed to collapse and lose its energy, and he sunk at the foot of
the Palmer, not in the fashion of one who intentionally stoops, kneels,
or prostrates himself to excite compassion, but like a man borne down on

no longer detain from repose."

One of the maidens presented a silver cup, containing a rich mixture of

wine and spice, which Rowena barely put to her lips. It was then offered

to the Palmer, who, after a low obeisance, tasted a few drops.

"Accept this alms, friend," continued the lady, offering a piece of

gold, "in acknowledgment of thy painful travail, and of the shrines thou

hast visited."

The Palmer received the boon with another low reverence, and followed

Edwina out of the apartment.

In the anteroom he found his attendant Anwold, who, taking the torch

from the hand of the waiting-maid, conducted him with more haste than

ceremony to an exterior and ignoble part of the building, where a number

of small apartments, or rather cells, served for sleeping places to the

lower order of domestics, and to strangers of mean degree.

"In which of these sleeps the Jew?" said the Pilgrim.

"The unbelieving dog," answered Anwold, "kennels in the cell next your

holiness.--St Dunstan, how it must be scraped and cleansed ere it be

again fit for a Christian!"

"And where sleeps Gurth the swineherd?" said the stranger.

"Gurth," replied the bondsman, "sleeps in the cell on your right, as the

Jew on that to your left; you serve to keep the child of circumcision

separate from the abomination of his tribe. You might have occupied a

more honourable place had you accepted of Oswald's invitation."

"It is as well as it is," said the Palmer; "the company, even of a Jew,

can hardly spread contamination through an oaken partition."

So saying, he entered the cabin allotted to him, and taking the torch

from the domestic's hand, thanked him, and wished him good-night. Having

shut the door of his cell, he placed the torch in a candlestick made of

wood, and looked around his sleeping apartment, the furniture of which

was of the most simple kind. It consisted of a rude wooden stool,

and still ruder hutch or bed-frame, stuffed with clean straw, and

accommodated with two or three sheepskins by way of bed-clothes.

The Palmer, having extinguished his torch, threw himself, without taking

off any part of his clothes, on this rude couch, and slept, or at least

retained his recumbent posture, till the earliest sunbeams found their

way through the little grated window, which served at once to admit both

air and light to his uncomfortable cell. He then started up, and after

repeating his matins, and adjusting his dress, he left it, and entered

that of Isaac the Jew, lifting the latch as gently as he could.

The inmate was lying in troubled slumber upon a couch similar to that on

which the Palmer himself had passed the night. Such parts of his dress

as the Jew had laid aside on the preceding evening, were disposed

carefully around his person, as if to prevent the hazard of their

being carried off during his slumbers. There was a trouble on his brow

amounting almost to agony. His hands and arms moved convulsively, as

if struggling with the nightmare; and besides several ejaculations in

Hebrew, the following were distinctly heard in the Norman-English, or

mixed language of the country: "For the sake of the God of Abraham,

spare an unhappy old man! I am poor, I am penniless--should your irons

wrench my limbs asunder, I could not gratify you!"

The Palmer awaited not the end of the Jew's vision, but stirred him with

his pilgrim's staff. The touch probably associated, as is usual, with

some of the apprehensions excited by his dream; for the old man started

up, his grey hair standing almost erect upon his head, and huddling some

part of his garments about him, while he held the detached pieces with

the tenacious grasp of a falcon, he fixed upon the Palmer his keen black

eyes, expressive of wild surprise and of bodily apprehension.

"Fear nothing from me, Isaac," said the Palmer, "I come as your friend."

"The God of Israel requite you," said the Jew, greatly relieved; "I

dreamed--But Father Abraham be praised, it was but a dream." Then,

collecting himself, he added in his usual tone, "And what may it be your

pleasure to want at so early an hour with the poor Jew?"

"It is to tell you," said the Palmer, "that if you leave not this

mansion instantly, and travel not with some haste, your journey may

prove a dangerous one."

"Holy father!" said the Jew, "whom could it interest to endanger so poor

a wretch as I am?"

"The purpose you can best guess," said the Pilgrim; "but rely on this,

that when the Templar crossed the hall yesternight, he spoke to his

Mussulman slaves in the Saracen language, which I well understand, and

charged them this morning to watch the journey of the Jew, to seize upon

him when at a convenient distance from the mansion, and to conduct

him to the castle of Philip de Malvoisin, or to that of Reginald

Front-de-Boeuf."

It is impossible to describe the extremity of terror which seized upon

the Jew at this information, and seemed at once to overpower his whole

faculties. His arms fell down to his sides, and his head drooped on his

breast, his knees bent under his weight, every nerve and muscle of his

frame seemed to collapse and lose its energy, and he sunk at the foot of

the Palmer, not in the fashion of one who intentionally stoops, kneels,

or prostrates himself to excite compassion, but like a man borne down on