Thus urged, the Jew began to ascend the steep and narrow steps which led up to the gallery.
“Let me see,” said the Prince, “who dare stop him,” fixing his eye on Cedric, whose attitude intimated his intention to hurl the Jew down headlong.
The catastrophe was prevented by the clown Wamba, who, springing betwixt his master and Isaac, and exclaiming, in answer to the Prince’s defiance, “Marry, that will I!” opposed to the beard of the Jew a shield of brawn, which he plucked from beneath his cloak, and with which, doubtless, he had furnished himself, lest the tournament should have proved longer than his appetite could endure abstinence. Finding the abomination of his tribe opposed to his very nose, while the Jester, at the same time, flourished his wooden sword above his head, the Jew recoiled, missed
his footing, and rolled down the steps,—an excellent jest to the spectators, who set up a loud laughter, in which Prince John and his attendants heartily joined.
“Deal me the prize, cousin Prince,” said Wamba; “I have vanquished my foe in fair fight with sword and shield,” he added, brandishing the brawn in one hand and the wooden sword in the other.
“Who, and what art thou, noble champion?” said Prince John, still laughing.
“A fool by right of descent,” answered the Jester; “I am Wamba, the son of Witless, who was the son of Weatherbrain, who was the son of an Alderman.”
“Make room for the Jew in front of the lower ring,” said Prince John, not unwilling perhaps to seize an apology to desist from his original purpose; “to place the vanquished beside the victor were false heraldry.”
“Knave upon fool were worse,” answered the Jester, “and Jew upon bacon worst of all.”
“Gramercy! good fellow,” cried Prince John, “thou pleasest me—Here, Isaac, lend me a handful of byzants.”
As the Jew, stunned by the request, afraid to refuse, and unwilling to comply, fumbled in the furred bag which hung by his girdle, and was perhaps endeavouring to ascertain how few coins might pass for a handful, the Prince stooped from his jennet and settled Isaac’s doubts by snatching the pouch itself from his side; and flinging to Wamba a couple of the gold pieces which it contained, he pursued his career round the lists, leaving the Jew to the derision of those around him, and himself receiving as much applause from the spectators as if he had done some honest and honourable action.
At this the challenger with fierce defy
His trumpet sounds; the challenged makes reply:
With clangour rings the field, resounds the vaulted sky.
Their visors closed, their lances in the rest,
Or at the helmet pointed or the crest,
They vanish from the barrier, speed the race,
And spurring see decrease the middle space.
—Palamon and Arcite
In the midst of Prince John’s cavalcade, he suddenly stopt, and appealing to the Prior of Jorvaulx, declared the principal business of the day had been forgotten.
“By my halidom,” said he, “we have forgotten, Sir Prior, to name the fair Sovereign of Love and of Beauty, by whose white hand the palm is to be distributed. For my part, I am liberal in my ideas, and I care not if I give my vote for the black-eyed Rebecca.”
“Holy Virgin,” answered the Prior, turning up his eyes in horror, “a Jewess!—We should deserve to be stoned out of the lists; and I am not yet old enough to be a martyr. Besides, I swear by my patron saint, that she is far inferior to the lovely Saxon, Rowena.”
“Saxon or Jew,” answered the Prince, “Saxon or Jew, dog or hog, what matters it? I say, name Rebecca, were it only to mortify the Saxon churls.”
A murmur arose even among his own immediate attendants.
“This passes a jest, my lord,” said De Bracy; “no knight here will lay lance in rest if such an insult is attempted.”
“It is the mere wantonness of insult,” said one of the oldest and most important of Prince John’s followers, Waldemar Fitzurse, “and if your Grace attempt it, cannot but prove ruinous to your projects.”
“I entertained you, sir,” said John, reining up his palfrey haughtily, “for my follower, but not for my counsellor.”
“Those who follow your Grace in the paths which you tread,” said Waldemar, but speaking in a low voice, “acquire the right of counsellors; for your interest and safety are not more deeply gaged than their own.”
From the tone in which this was spoken, John saw the necessity of acquiescence. “I did but jest,” he said; “and you turn upon me like so many adders! Name whom you will, in the fiend’s name, and please yourselves.”
“Nay, nay,” said De Bracy, “let the fair sovereign’s throne remain unoccupied, until the conqueror shall be named, and then let him choose the lady by whom it shall be filled. It will add another grace to his triumph, and teach fair ladies to prize the love of valiant knights, who can exalt them to such distinction.”
“If Brian de Bois-Guilbert gain the prize,” said the Prior, “I will gage my rosary that I name the Sovereign of Love and Beauty.”
“Bois-Guilbert,” answered De Bracy, “is a good lance; but there are others around these lists, Sir Prior, who will not fear to encounter him.”
“Silence, sirs,” said Waldemar, “and let the Prince assume his seat. The knights and spectators are alike impatient, the time advances, and highly fit it is that the sports should commence.”
Prince John, though not yet a monarch, had in Waldemar Fitzurse all the inconveniences of a favourite minister, who, in serving his sovereign, must always do so in his own way. The Prince acquiesced, however, although his disposition was precisely of that kind which is apt to be obstinate upon trifles, and, assuming his throne, and being surrounded by his followers, gave signal to the heralds to proclaim the laws of the tournament, which were briefly as follows:
First, the five challengers were to undertake all comers.
Secondly, any knight proposing to combat, might, if he pleased, select a special antagonist from among the challengers, by touching his shield. If he did so with the reverse of his lance, the trial of skill was made with what were called the arms of courtesy, that is, with lances at whose extremity a piece of round flat board was fixed, so that no danger was encountered, save from the shock of the horses and riders. But if the shield was touched with the sharp end of the lance, the combat was understood to be at “outrance”, that is, the knights were to fight with sharp weapons, as in actual battle.
Thirdly, when the knights present had accomplished their vow, by each of them breaking five lances, the Prince was to declare the victor in the first day’s tourney, who should receive as prize a war-horse of exquisite beauty and matchless strength; and in addition to this reward of valour, it was now declared, he should have the peculiar honour of naming the Queen of Love and Beauty, by whom the prize should be given on the ensuing day.
Fourthly, it was announced, that, on the second day, there should be a general tournament, in which all the knights present, who were desirous to win praise, might take part; and being divided into two bands of equal numbers, might fight it out manfully, until the signal was given by Prince John to cease the combat. The elected Queen of Love and Beauty was then to crown the knight whom the Prince should adjudge to have borne himself best in this second day, with a