far more welcome to me than _thus_ for ever to abide; but yet
let us consider, the Lord of the Country to which we are going
hath said, Thou shalt do no murder, no not to another man's
person; much more then are we forbidden to take his counsel to
kill ourselves. And let us consider again, that all the Law is not
in the hand of Giant _Despair_. Others, so far as I can
understand, have been taken by him as well as we, and yet have
escaped out of his hand. Who knows but that God that made the
world may cause that Giant _Despair_ may die? or that at some
time or other he may forget to lock us in? or but he may in short
time have another of his Fits before us, and may lose the use of
his limbs? and if ever that should come to pass again, for my part
I am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to try my utmost
to get from under his hand. I was a fool that I did not try to do
it before; but however, my Brother, let's be patient, and endure a
while; the time may come that may give us a happy release; but let
us not be our own murderers. With these words _Hopeful_ at
present did moderate the mind of his Brother; so they continued
together (in the dark) that day, in their sad and doleful
condition.
Well, towards evening the Giant goes down into the Dungeon again,
to see if his prisoners had taken his counsel; but when he came
there he found them alive, and truly, alive was all; for now, what
for want of Bread and Water, and by reason of the Wounds they
received when he beat them, they could do little but breathe: But,
I say, he found them alive; at which he fell into a grievous rage,
and told them that seeing they disobeyed his counsel, it should be
worse with them than if they had never been born.
At this they trembled greatly, and I think that _Christian_
fell into a Swoon; but coming a little to himself again, they
renewed their discourse about the Giant's counsel, and whether yet
they had best to take it or no. Now _Christian_ again seemed
to be for doing it, but _Hopeful_ made his second reply as
followeth:
HOPE. My Brother, said he, rememberest thou not how valiant thou
hast been heretofore? _Apollyon_ could not crush thee, nor
could all that thou didst hear, or see, or feel in the Valley of
the _Shadow of Death_. What hardship, terror, and amazement
hast thou already gone through, and art thou now nothing but fear?
Thou seest that I am in the Dungeon with thee, a far weaker man by
nature than thou art; also this Giant has wounded me as well as
thee, and hath also cut off the Bread and Water from my mouth; and
with thee I mourn without the light. But let's exercise a little
more patience, remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair,
and wast neither afraid of the Chain, nor Cage, nor yet of bloody
Death: wherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame that becomes
not a Christian to be found in) bear up with patience as well as
we can.
Now night being come again, and the Giant and his Wife being in
bed, she asked him concerning the Prisoners, and if they had taken
his counsel: To which he replied, They are sturdy Rogues, they
chuse rather to bear all hardship, than to make away themselves.
Then said she, Take them into the Castle-yard to-morrow, and shew
them the Bones and Skulls of those that thou hast already
dispatch'd, and make them believe, e'er a week comes to an end,
thou also wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done their
fellows before them.
So when the morning was come, the Giant goes to them again, and
takes them into the Castle-yard and shews them as his Wife had
bidden him. These, said he, were Pilgrims as you are, once, and
they trespassed in my grounds, as you have done; and when I
thought fit, I tore them in pieces, and so within ten days I will
do you. Go get you down to your Den again; and with that he beat
them all the way thither. They lay therefore all day on
_Saturday_ in a lamentable case, as before. Now when night
was come, and when Mrs. Diffidence and her Husband the Giant were
got to bed, they began to renew their discourse of their
Prisoners; and withal the old Giant wondered, that he could
neither by his blows nor counsel bring them to an end. And with
that his Wife replied, I fear, said she, that they live in hope
that some will come to relieve them, or that they have pick-locks
about them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And sayest
thou so, my dear? said the Giant, I will therefore search them in
the morning.
Well on _Saturday_ about midnight they began to _pray_,
and continued in Prayer till almost break of day.
Now a little before it was day, good _Christian_, as one half
amazed, brake out in passionate speech: _What a fool_, quoth
he, _am I, thus to lie in a stinking Dungeon, when I may as well
walk at liberty. I_ have a Key in my bosom called Promise, that
will, I am persuaded, open any Lock in _Doubting_ Castle.
Then said _Hopeful_, That's good news; good Brother, pluck it
out of thy bosom and try.
Then _Christian_ pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try
at the Dungeon door, whose bolt (as he turned the Key) gave back,
and the door flew open with ease, and _Christian_ and _Hopeful_
both came out. Then he went to the outward door that leads
into the Castle-yard, and with his Key opened that door also.
After he went to the iron Gate, for that must be opened too,
but that Lock went damnable hard, yet the Key did open it. Then
they thrust open the Gate to make their escape with speed; but
that Gate as it opened made such a creaking, that it waked Giant
_Despair_, who hastily rising to pursue his Prisoners, felt
his limbs to fail, for his Fits took him again, so that he could
by no means go after them. Then they went on, and came to the
King's High-way again, and so were safe, because they were out of
his jurisdiction.
Now when they were gone over the Stile, they began to contrive
with themselves what they should do at that Stile, to prevent
those that should come after from falling into the hands of Giant
_Despair_. So they consented to erect there a Pillar, and to
engrave upon the side thereof this sentence, _Over this Stile is
the way to_ Doubting _Castle, which is kept by Giant_ Despair,
_who despiseth the King of the Coelestial Country, and seeks
to destroy his holy Pilgrims._ Many therefore that followed
after read what was written, and escaped the danger. This
done, they sang as follows:
Out of the way we went, and then we found
What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground;
And let them that come after have a care,
Lest heedlessness makes them, as we, to fare.
Lest they for trespassing his prisoners are,
Whose Castle's _Doubting, and whose name's Despair_.
CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL ARRIVE AT THE CAELESTIAL CITY
By John Bunyan
I saw that as they went on, there met them two men, in Raiment
that shone like Gold, also their faces shone as the light.
These men asked the Pilgrims whence they came? and they told them.
They also asked them where they had lodged, what difficulties and
dangers, what comforts and pleasures they had met in the way? and
they told them. Then said the men that met them, You have but two
difficulties more to meet with, and then you are in the City.
And I slept, and Dreamed again, and saw the same two Pilgrims
going down the Mountains along the High-way towards the City.
Now you must note that the City stood upon a mighty Hill, but the
Pilgrims went up that Hill with ease because they had these two
men to lead them up by the arms; also they had left their
_mortal Garments_ behind them in the River. They therefore
went up here with much agility and speed, though the foundation
upon which the City was framed was higher than the Clouds. They
therefore went up through the Regions of the Air, sweetly talking
as they went, being comforted, because they safely got over the
River, and had such glorious Companions to attend them.
The talk that they had with the Shining Ones was about the glory
of the place, who told them that the beauty and glory of it was
inexpressible. There, said they, is the Mount _Sion_, the
heavenly _Jerusalem_, the innumerable company of Angels, and
the Spirits of just men made perfect. You are going now, said
they, to the Paradise of God, wherein you shall see the Tree of
Life, and eat of the never-fading fruits thereof; and when you
come there, you shall have white Robes given you, and your walk
and talk shall be every day with the King, even all the days of
Eternity. There you shall not see again such things as you saw
when you were in the lower Region upon the earth, to wit, sorrow,
sickness, affliction, and health, _for the former things are
passed away_. You are now going to _Abraham_, to _Isaac_,
and _Jacob_, and to the Prophets, men that God hath taken
away from the evil to come, and that are now resting upon
their beds, each one walking in his righteousness. The men
then asked, What must we do in the holy place? To whom it was
answered, You must there receive the comfort of all your toil, and
have joy for all your sorrow; you must reap what you have sown,
even the fruit of all your Prayers and Tears, and sufferings for
the King by the way. In that place you must wear Crowns of Gold,
and enjoy the perpetual sight and vision of the Holy One, _for
there you shall see him as he is_. There also you shall serve
him continually with praise, with shouting, and thanksgiving, whom
you desired to serve in the World, though with much difficulty,
because of the infirmity of your flesh. There your eyes shall be
delighted with seeing, and your ears with hearing the pleasant
voice of the Mighty One. There you shall enjoy your friends again,
that are gone thither before you; and there you shall with joy
receive even every one that follows into the holy place after you.
There also shall you be cloathed with Glory and Majesty, and put
into an equipage fit to ride out with the King of Glory. When he
shall come with sound of Trumpet in the Clouds, as upon the wings
of the Wind, you shall come with him; and when he shall sit upon
the Throne of Judgment, you shall sit by him; yea, and when he
shall pass sentence upon all the workers of iniquity, let them be
Angels or Men, you also shall have a voice in that Judgment,
because they were his and your Enemies. Also when he shall again
return to the City, you shall go too, with sound of Trumpet, and
be ever with him.
Now while they were thus drawing towards the Gate, behold a
company of the Heavenly Host came out to meet them; to whom it was
said by the other two Shining Ones, These are the men that have
loved our Lord when they were in the World, and that have left all
for his Holy Name, and he hath sent us to fetch them, and we have
brought them thus far on their desired Journey, that they may go
in and look their Redeemer in the face with joy. Then the Heavenly
Host gave a great shout, saying, _Blessed are they that are
called to the Marriage Supper of the Lamb._ There came out also
at this time to meet them, several of the King's Trumpeters,
cloathed in white and shining Raiment, who with melodious noises
and loud, made even the Heavens to echo with their sound. These
Trumpeters saluted _Christian_ and his fellow with ten thousand
welcomes from the World, and this they did with shouting and sound
of Trumpet.
This done, they compassed them round on every side; some went
before, some behind, and some on the right hand, some on the left,
(as 'twere to guard them through the upper Regions) continually
sounding as they went with melodious noise, in notes on high: so
that the very sight was to them that could behold it, as if Heaven
itself was come down to meet them. Thus therefore they walked on
together; and as they walked, ever and anon these Trumpeters, even
with joyful sound, would, by mixing their musick with looks and
gestures, still signify to _Christian_ and his Brother, how
welcome they were into their company, and with what gladness they
came to meet them; and now were these two men as 'twere in Heaven
before they came at it, being swallowed up with the sight of
Angels, and with hearing of their melodious notes. Here also they
had the City itself in view, and they thought they heard all the
Bells therein ring to welcome them thereto. But above all, the
warm and joyful thoughts that they had about their own dwelling
there, with such company, and that for ever and ever. Oh, by what
tongue or pen can their glorious joy be expressed! And thus they
came up to the Gate.
Now when they were come up to the Gate, there was written over it
in Letters of Gold, _Blessed are they that do his Commandments,
that they may have right to the Tree of Life, and may enter in
through the Gates into the City_.
Then I saw in my Dream, that the Shining Men bid them call at the
Gate; the which when they did, some from above looked over the
Gate, to wit, _Enoch_, _Moses_, and _Elijah_, _&c_., to whom
it was said, These Pilgrims are come from the City of _Destruction_
for the love that they bear to the King of this place; and
then the Pilgrims gave in unto them each man his Certificate,
which they had received in the beginning; those therefore
were carried in to the King, who when he had read them, said,
Where are the men? To whom it was answered, They are standing
without the Gate. The King then commanded to open the Gate,
_That the righteous nation_, saith he, _that keepeth Truth may enter in_.
Now I saw in my Dream that these two men went in at the Gate: and
lo, as they entered, they were transfigured, and they had Raiment
put on that shone like Gold. There was also that met them with
Harps and Crowns, and gave them to them, the Harps to praise
withal, and the Crowns in token of honour. Then I heard in my
Dream that all the Bells in the City rang again for joy, and that
it was said unto them, _Enter ye into the joy of your Lord_.
I also heard the men themselves, that they sang with a loud
voice, saying, _Blessing, Honour, Glory, and Power, be to him
that sitteth upon the Throne, and to the Lamb for ever and
ever_.
Now just as the Gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in
after them, and behold, the City shone like the Sun; the Streets
also were paved with Gold, and in them walked many men, with
Crowns on their heads, Palms in their hands, and golden Harps to
sing praises withal.
There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one
another without intermission, saying, _Holy, Holy, Holy, is the
Lord_. And after that they shut up the Gates. Which when I had
seen, I wished myself among them.
Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to
look back, and saw Ignorance come up to the River-side; but he
soon got over, and that without half that difficulty which the
other two men met with. For it happened that there was then in
that place one Vain-hope a Ferry-man, that with his Boat helped
him over; so he, as the other I saw, did ascend the Hill to come
up to the Gate, only he came alone; neither did any man meet him
with the least encouragement. When he was come up to the Gate, he
looked up to the writing that was above, and then began to knock,
supposing that entrance should have been quickly administered to
him; but he was asked by the men that looked over the top of the
Gate, Whence came you? and what would you have? He answered, I
have eat and drank in the presence of the King, and he has taught
in our Streets. Then they asked him for his Certificate, that
they might go in and shew it to the King. So he fumbled in his
bosom for one, and found none. Then said they, Have you none? But
the man answered never a word. So they told the King, but he would
not come down to see him, but commanded the two Shining Ones that
conducted _Christian_ and _Hopeful_ to the City, to go out
and take _Ignorance_, and bind him hand and foot, and have
him away. Then they took him up, and carried him through the
air to the door that I saw in the side of the Hill, and put him in
there. Then I saw that there was a way to Hell even from the Gates
of Heaven, as well as from the City of _Destruction_. So I
awoke, and behold it was a Dream.
IVANHOE AND GUY MANNERING
_Before we have reached the second
page of what Anthony Trollope called "the most favorite novel in
the English language," the Commander of the Knights Templars and
his followers have reined up their horses outside the old hall of
Rotherwood, and a loud blast from the horn convinces us that they
won't wait very long for an invitation to enter. And there is
Rowena, for whom the Disinherited Knight shall fight against all
comers. We hold our breaths as he rides full-tilt at the Norman
Knight and strikes him full on the visor of his helmet, throwing
horse and rider to the ground. Here are Isaac the Jew and Rebecca
his beautiful daughter; and Wamba the jester, disguised as a monk,
is rescuing Cedric--
Does any boy or girl need to know more of what Ivanhoe is about?
No one who begins to read Guy Mannering will wish to put it down
until he has finished it._
IVANHOE
Retold by Sir Edward Sullivan
At the time when King Richard, of the Lion Heart, was absent from
his country, and a prisoner in the power of the perfidious and
cruel Duke of Austria, there lived in England a highborn Saxon,
named Cedric. He was one of the few native princes who still
continued to occupy the home of his fathers; but, like many more
of the conquered English people, he had felt the tyranny and
oppressive insolence of the haughty Norman barons. He was a man of
great personal strength, possessed of a hasty and choleric temper,
but he had shrewdly refrained from showing any open hostility to
the successors of the Conqueror; and so contrived to maintain his
ancient state in his mansion at Rotherwood, while many others in a
similar situation had been compelled to give up their homes and
properties to the supporters of the Norman invader.
He had an only son, Wilfred by name, with whom he had quarrelled;
and the young man, finding himself disinherited, had adopted the
profession of a champion of the Cross, and sailed away to
Palestine with the army of the Crusaders.
One evening, in the autumn of the year, Cedric was about to sit
down to supper in the old hall at Rotherwood, when the blast of a
horn was heard at his gate. In a few minutes after, a warder
announced that the Prior Aymer, of Jorvaulx, and the good knight
Brian de Bois-Guilbert, commander of the valiant order of Knights
Templars, with a small retinue, requested hospitality and lodging
for the night, being on their way to a tournament which was to be
held not far from Ashby-de-la-Zouche.
"Normans both," muttered Cedric; "but they are welcome to the
hospitality of Rotherwood. Admit them."
The noble guests were ushered in shortly after, accompanied by
their attendants, and Cedric bade them welcome to his hall.
When the repast was about to begin, the steward, suddenly raising
his wand, said aloud: "Forbear! Place for the Lady Rowena." As he
spoke a side-door at the upper end of the hall opened, and Rowena,
the fair and stately ward of Cedric, followed by four female
attendants, entered the apartment. All stood up to receive her,
and replying to their courtesy by a mute gesture of salutation,
she moved gracefully forward to assume her place at the board,
while the eyes of Brian de Bois-Guilbert seemed to be riveted by
the striking beauty of her face.
As the banquet went on, conversation was interrupted by the
entrance of a 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."
The page retired; and returning shortly after, whispered into the
ear of his master:
"It is a Jew, who calls himself Isaac of York."
"St. Mary!" said the abbot, crossing himself, "an unbelieving Jew,
and admitted into this presence!"
"A dog Jew," echoed the Templar, "to approach a defender of the
Holy Sepulchre!"
"Peace, my worthy guests," said Cedric; "my hospitality must not
be bounded by your dislikes. Let him have a board and a morsel
apart."
Introduced with little ceremony, and advancing with fear and
hesitation, and many a bow of deep humility, a tall thin old man,
with an aquiline nose and piercing black eyes, approached the
lower end of the board. Cedric nodded coldly in answer to his
repeated salutations, and signed to him to take a place at the
lower end of the table, where, however, no one offered to make
room for him.
A pilgrim, at length, who sat by the chimney, took compassion upon
him, and resigned his seat, saying briefly, "Old man, my garments
are dried, my hunger is appeased, thou art both wet and fasting."
And, so saying, he placed some food before the Jew on the small
table at which he had himself supped, and, without waiting for the
old man's thanks, went to the other side of the hall.
As the feast proceeded, a discussion arose amongst the banqueters
as to which knights had borne them best in Palestine among the
champions of the Cross. De Bois-Guilbert seemed to speak
slightingly of the English warriors, while giving the place of
honour to the Knights of the Temple.
"The English chivalry were second to NONE" said the pilgrim, who
had listened to this conversation with marked impatience. "SECOND
to NONE, I say, who ever drew sword in defence of the Holy Land. I
say, besides, for I saw it, that King Richard himself and five of
his knights held a tournament after the taking of St. John-de-
Acre, as challengers, and proved themselves superior to all
comers."
The swarthy countenance of the Templar grew darker with a bitter
scowl of rage as he listened to these words; but his angry
confusion became only more marked as the pilgrim went on to give
the names of the English knights who had so distinguished
themselves. He paused as he came to the name of the sixth.
"His name dwells not in my memory," he said; "but he was a young
knight of lesser renown and lower rank."
"Sir palmer," said Brian de Bois-Guilbert scornfully, "this
assumed forgetfulness, after so much has been remembered, comes
too late to serve your purpose. I will myself tell the name of the
knight before whose lance I fell: it was the Knight of Ivanhoe;
nor was there one of the six that, for his years, had more renown
in arms. Yet this will I say, and loudly, that, were he in
England, I would gladly meet him in this week's tournament,
mounted and armed as I now am."
"If Ivanhoe ever returns from Palestine I will be his surety that
he meets you," replied the palmer.
Not long after, the grace-cup was served round, and the guests,
after making deep obeisance to their landlord and the Lady
Rowena, arose, and retired with their attendants for the night.
As the palmer was being guided to his chamber he was met by the
waiting-maid of Rowena, who informed him that her mistress desired
to speak with him.
A short passage and an ascent of some steps led him to the lady's
apartment.
As the pilgrim entered she ordered her attendants, excepting only
one, to retire.
"Pilgrim," said the lady, after a moment's pause, during which she
seemed uncertain how to address him, "you this night mentioned a
name--I mean the name of Ivanhoe--I would gladly hear news of him.
Where and in what condition did you leave him?"
"I know little of the Knight of Ivanhoe," answered the palmer with
a troubled voice. "He hath, I believe, surmounted the persecution
of his enemies in Palestine, and is on the eve of returning to
England."
The Lady Rowena sighed deeply.
"Would to God," she then said, "he were here safely arrived, and
able to bear arms in the approaching tourney. Should Athelstane of
Coningsburgh obtain the prize, Ivanhoe is like to hear evil
tidings when he reaches England."
Finding that there was no further information to be obtained about
the knight, in whose fate she seemed to take so deep an interest,
she bade her maidens to offer the sleeping-cup to the holy man,
and having presented him with a piece of gold, wished him good-
night.
As the palmer was being conducted to his room he inquired of his
attendant where Isaac the Jew was sleeping, and learned that he
occupied the room next to his own.
As soon as it was dawn the pilgrim entered the small apartment
where the Jew was still asleep. Stirring him with his pilgrim's
staff, he told him that he should rise without delay, and leave
the mansion. "When the Templar crossed the hall yesternight," he
continued, "I heard him speak to his Mussulman slaves in the
Saracen language, which I well understand, and he charged them 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. He knew only too well of the
relentless persecution to which his kindred were subjected at this
period, and how, upon the slightest and most unreasonable
pretences, their persons and their property were exposed to every
turn of popular fury.
He rose, accordingly, in haste.
It was not, however, such an easy matter to make their exit from
the mansion. Gurth, the swineherd, a servant of much importance at
that time, when appealed to open the gate, refused to let the
visitors out at such an unseasonable hour.