learned, among other unpleasant news, that the King of Scotland had
seized upon three of our nobles, when on a pilgrimage to Saint Ninian,
and alleged as a cause, that his heir being supposed to be fighting in
the ranks of the Teutonic Knights, against the heathen of Borussia, was,
in fact, in our camp and in our power; and, therefore, William proposed
to hold these nobles as hostages for his safety. This gave me the first
light on the real rank of the Knight of the Leopard, and my suspicions
were confirmed by De Vaux, who, on his return from Ascalon, brought back
with him the Earl of Huntingdon's sole attendant, a thick-skulled slave,
who had gone thirty miles to unfold to De Vaux a secret he should have
told to me."
"Old Strauchan must be excused," said the Lord of Gilsland. "He knew
from experience that my heart is somewhat softer than if I wrote myself
Plantagenet."
"Thy heart soft? thou commodity of old iron, and Cumberland flint that
thou art!" exclaimed the King. "It is we Plantagenets who boast soft and
feeling hearts, Edith," he continued, turning to his cousin, with an
expression which called the blood into her cheek.--"Give me thy hand, my
fair cousin, and, Prince of Scotland, thine."...
It is needless to follow into further particulars the conferences at the
royal tent, or to enquire whether David, Earl of Huntingdon, was as mute
in the presence of Edith Plantagenet, as when he was bound to act under
the character of an obscure and nameless adventurer. It may be well
believed that he there expressed, with suitable earnestness, the passion
to which he had so often before found it difficult to give words.
The hour of noon now approached, and Saladin waited to receive the
Princes of Christendom in a tent, which, but for its large size,
differed little from that of the ordinary shelter of the common Curdman,
or Arab; yet, beneath its ample and sable covering, was prepared a
banquet after the most gorgeous fashion of the East, extended upon
carpets of the richest stuffs, with cushions laid for the guests. But we
cannot stop to describe the cloth of gold and silver, the superb
embroidery in Arabesque, the shawls of Cashmere, and the muslins of
India, which were here unfolded in all their splendor; far less to tell
the different sweetmeats, ragouts edged with rice colored in various
manners, with all the other niceties of Eastern cookery. Lambs roasted
whole, and game and poultry dressed in pilaus, were piled in vessels of
gold, and silver, and porcelain, and intermixed with large mazers of
sherbet, cooled in snow and ice from the caverns of Mount Lebanon. A
magnificent pile of cushions at the head of the banquet, seemed prepared
for the master of the feast, and such dignitaries as he might call to
share that place of distinction, while from the roof of the tent in all
quarters, but over this seat of eminence in particular, waved many a
banner and pennon, the trophies of battles won, and kingdoms overthrown.
But amongst and above them all, a long lance displayed a shroud, the
banner of Death, with this impressive inscription, "SALADIN, KING OF
KINGS--SALADIN, VICTOR OF VICTORS--SALADIN MUST DIE." Amid these
preparations, the slaves who had arranged the refreshments stood with
drooped heads and folded arms, mute and motionless as monumental
statuary, or as automata, which waited the touch of the artist to put
them in motion.
Expecting the approach of his princely guests, the Soldan, imbued, as
most were, with the superstitions of his time, paused over a horoscope
and corresponding scroll, which had been sent to him by the Hermit of
Engaddi when he departed from the camp.
"Strange and mysterious science," he muttered to himself, "which,
pretending to draw the curtain of futurity, misleads those whom it seems
to guide, and darkens the scene which it pretends to illuminate! Who
would not have said that I was that enemy most dangerous to Richard,
whose enmity was to be ended by marriage with his kinswoman? Yet it now
appears that a union betwixt this gallant Earl and the lady will bring
about friendship betwixt Richard and Scotland, an enemy more dangerous
than I, as a wild cat in a chamber is more to be dreaded than a lion in
a distant desert.--But then,...--How now, what means this intrusion?"
He spoke to the dwarf Nectabanus, who rushed into the tent fearfully
agitated, with each strange and disproportioned feature wrenched by
horror into still more extravagant ugliness,--his mouth open, his eyes
staring, his hands, with their shrivelled and deformed fingers, wildly
expanded.
"What now?" said the Soldan, sternly.
"_Accipe hoc!_" groaned out the dwarf.
"Ha! say'st thou?" answered Saladin.
"_Accipe hoc!_" replied the panic-struck creature, unconscious, perhaps,
that he repeated the same words as before.
"Hence! I am in no vein for foolery," said the Emperor.
"Nor am I further fool," said the dwarf, "than to make my folly help out
my wits to earn my bread, poor helpless wretch!--Hear, hear me, great
Soldan!"
"Nay, if thou hast actual wrong to complain of," said Saladin, "fool or
wise, thou art entitled to the ear of a King.--Retire hither with me;"
and he led him into the inner tent.
Whatever their conference related to, it was soon broken off by the
fanfare of the trumpets, announcing the arrival of the various Christian
princes, whom Saladin welcomed to his tent with a royal courtesy well
becoming their rank and his own; but chiefly he saluted the young Earl
of Huntingdon, and generously congratulated him upon prospects, which
seemed to have interfered with and overclouded those which he had
himself entertained.
"But think not," said the Soldan, "thou noble youth, that the Prince of
Scotland is more welcome to Saladin, than was Kenneth to the solitary
Ilderim when they met in the desert, or the distressed Ethiop to the
Hakim Adonbec. A brave and generous disposition like thine hath a value
independent of condition and birth, as the cool draught which I here
proffer thee, is as delicious from an earthen vessel as from a goblet of
gold."
The Earl of Huntingdon made a suitable reply, gratefully acknowledging
the various important services he had received from the generous Soldan;
but when he had pledged Saladin in the bowl of sherbet which the Soldan
had proffered to him, he could not help remarking with a smile, "The
brave cavalier, Ilderim, knew not of the formation of ice, but the
munificent Soldan cools his sherbet with snow."
"Wouldst thou have an Arab or a Curdman as wise as a Hakim?" said the
Soldan. "He who does on a disguise must make the sentiments of his heart
and the learning of his head accord with the dress which he assumes. I
desired to see how a brave and single-hearted cavalier of Frangistan
would conduct himself in debate with such a chief as I then seemed; and
I questioned the truth of a well-known fact, to know by what arguments
thou wouldst support thy assertion."
While they were speaking, the Archduke of Austria, who stood a little
apart, was struck with the mention of iced sherbet, and took with
pleasure and some bluntness the deep goblet, as the Earl of Huntingdon
was about to replace it.
"Most delicious!" he exclaimed, after a deep draught, which the heat of
the weather, and the feverishness following the debauch of the preceding
day, had rendered doubly acceptable. He sighed as he handed the cup to
the Grand Master of the Templars. Saladin made a sign to the dwarf, who
advanced and pronounced, with a harsh voice, the words, _Accipe hoc!_
The Templar started, like a steed who sees a lion under a bush, beside
the pathway; yet instantly recovered, and to hide, perhaps, his
confusion, raised the goblet to his lips;--but those lips never touched
that goblet's rim. The sabre of Saladin left its sheath as lightning
leaves the cloud. It was waved in the air,--and the head of the Grand
Master rolled to the extremity of the tent, while the trunk remained,
for a second, standing, with the goblet still clenched in its grasp,
then fell, the liquor mingling with the blood that spurted from the
veins.
There was a general exclamation of treason, and Austria, nearest to whom
Saladin stood with the bloody sabre in his hand, started back as if
apprehensive that his turn was to come next. Richard and others laid
hand on their swords.
"Fear nothing, noble Austria," said Saladin, as composedly as if nothing
had happened, "nor you, royal England, be wroth at what you have seen.
Not for his manifold treasons;--not for the attempt which, as may be
vouched by his own squire, he instigated against King Richard's
life;--not that he pursued the Prince of Scotland and myself in the
desert, reducing us to save our lives by the speed of our horses;--not
that he had stirred up the Maronites to attack us upon this very
occasion, had I not brought up unexpectedly so many Arabs as rendered
the scheme abortive;--not for any or all of these crimes does he now
lie there, although each were deserving such a doom;--but because,
scarce half-an-hour ere he polluted our presence, as the simoom
empoisons the atmosphere, he poniarded his comrade and accomplice,
Conrade of Montserrat, lest he should confess the infamous plots in
which they had both been engaged."
"How! Conrade murdered?--And by the Grand Master, his sponsor and most
intimate friend!" exclaimed Richard. "Noble Soldan, I would not doubt
thee; yet this must be proved; otherwise"----
"There stands the evidence," said Saladin, pointing to the terrified
dwarf. "Allah, who sends the fire-fly to illuminate the night-season,
can discover secret crimes by the most contemptible means."
The Soldan proceeded to tell the dwarf's story, which amounted to
this.--In his foolish curiosity, or as he partly confessed, with some
thoughts of pilfering, Nectabanus had strayed into the tent of Conrade,
which had been deserted by his attendants, some of whom had left the
encampment to carry the news of his defeat to his brother, and others
were availing themselves of the means which Saladin had supplied for
revelling. The wounded man slept under the influence of Saladin's
wonderful talisman, so that the dwarf had opportunity to pry about at
pleasure, until he was frightened into concealment by the sound of a
heavy step. He skulked behind a curtain, yet could see the motions, and
hear the words of the Grand Master, who entered, and carefully secured
the covering of the pavillion behind him. His victim started from sleep,
and it would appear that he instantly suspected the purpose of his old
associate, for it was in a tone of alarm that he demanded wherefore he
disturbed him.
"I come to confess and absolve thee," answered the Grand Master.
Of their further speech the terrified dwarf remembered little, save that
Conrade implored the Grand Master not to break a wounded reed, and that
the Templar struck him to the heart with a Turkish dagger, with the
words _Accipe hoc_,--words which long afterward haunted the terrified
imagination of the concealed witness.
"I verified the tale," said Saladin, "by causing the body to be
examined; and I made this unhappy being, whom Allah hath made the
discoverer of the crime, repeat in your own presence the words which the
murderer spoke, and you yourselves saw the effect which they produced
upon his conscience."
The Soldan paused, and the King of England broke silence:--
"If this be true, as I doubt not, we have witnessed a great act of
justice, though it bore a different aspect. But wherefore in this
presence? wherefore with thine own hand?"
"I had designed otherwise," said Saladin, "but had I not hastened his
doom, it had been altogether averted, since, if I had permitted him to
taste of my cup, as he was about to do, how could I, without incurring
the brand of inhospitality, have done him to death as he deserved? Had
he murdered my father, and afterward partaken of my food and my bowl,
not a hair of his head could have been injured by me. But enough of him;
let his carcass and his memory be removed from amongst us."
The body was carried away, and the marks of the slaughter obliterated or
concealed with such ready dexterity, as showed that the case was not
altogether so uncommon, as to paralyze the assistants and officers of
Saladin's household.
But the Christian princes felt that the scene which they had beheld
weighed heavily on their spirits, and although, at the courteous
invitation of the Soldan, they assumed their seats at the banquet, yet
it was with the silence of doubt and amazement. The spirits of Richard
alone surmounted all cause for suspicion or embarrassment. Yet he, too,
seemed to ruminate on some proposition, as if he were desirous of making
it in the most insinuating and acceptable manner which was possible. At
length he drank off a large bowl of wine, and addressing the Soldan,
desired to know whether it was not true that he had honored the Earl of
Huntingdon with a personal encounter.
Saladin answered with a smile, that he had proved his horse and his
weapons with the heir of Scotland, as cavaliers are wont to do with each
other when they meet in the desert; and modestly added that, though the
combat was not entirely decisive, he had not, on his part, much reason
to pride himself on the event. The Scot, on the other hand, disclaimed
the attributed superiority, and wished to assign it to the Soldan.
"Enough of honor thou hast had in the encounter," said Richard, "and I
envy thee more for that, than for the smiles of Edith Plantagenet,
though one of them might reward a bloody day's work.--But what say you,
noble princes; is it fitting that such a royal ring of chivalry should
break up without something being done for future times to speak of? What
is the overthrow and death of a traitor, to such a fair garland of honor
as is here assembled, and which ought not to part without witnessing
something more worthy of their regard? How say you, princely Soldan;
what if we two should now, and before this fair company, decide the
long-contended question for this land of Palestine, and end at once
these tedious wars? Yonder are the lists ready, nor can Paynimrie ever
hope a better champion than thou. I, unless worthier offers, will lay
down my gauntlet in behalf of Christendom, and, in all love and honor,
we will do mortal battle for the possession of Jerusalem."
There was a deep pause for the Soldan's answer. His cheek and brow
colored highly, and it was the opinion of many present that he hesitated
whether he should accept the challenge. At length he said: "Fighting for
the Holy City against those whom we regard as idolaters, and worshippers
of stocks and stones, and graven images, I might confide that Allah
would strengthen my arm; or if I fell beneath the sword of the Melech
Ric, I could not pass to Paradise by a more glorious death. But Allah
has already given Jerusalem to the true believers, and it were a
tempting the God of the Prophet to peril, upon my own personal strength
and skill, that which I hold securely by the superiority of my forces."
"If not for Jerusalem, then," said Richard, in the tone of one who would
entreat a favor of an intimate friend, "yet, for the love of honor, let
us run at least three courses with grinded lances."
"Even this," said Saladin, half smiling at Coeur de Lion's
affectionate earnestness for the combat, "even this I may not lawfully
do. The Master places the shepherd over the flock, not for the
shepherd's own sake, but for the sake of the sheep. Had I a son to hold
the sceptre when I fell, I might have had the liberty, as I have the
will, to brave this bold encounter; but your own Scripture sayeth, that
when the herdsman is smitten, the sheep are scattered."
"Thou hast had all the fortune," said Richard, turning to the Earl of
Huntingdon with a sigh. "I would have given the best year of my life for
that one half-hour beside the Diamond of the Desert!"
The chivalrous extravagance of Richard awakened the spirits of the
assembly, and when at length they arose to depart, Saladin advanced and
took Coeur de Lion by the hand.
"Noble King of England," he said, "we now part, never to meet again.
That your league is dissolved, no more to be reunited, and that your
native forces are far too few to enable you to prosecute your
enterprise, is as well known to me as to yourself. I may not yield you
up that Jerusalem which you so much desire to hold. It is to us, as to
you, a Holy City. But whatever other terms Richard demands of Saladin,
shall be as willingly yielded as yonder fountain yields its waters. Ay,
and the same should be as frankly afforded by Saladin, if Richard stood
in the desert with but two archers in his train!"
FOOTNOTES:
[I] While the army of the crusaders was inactive near Ascalon, a
truce having been agreed to between the Saracens and their
assailants, the Grand Master of the Templars, Conrade Marquis of
Montserrat, and others of the Christian Princes, were plotting to
effect its dismemberment. Richard of England was the leading spirit
of the crusade, and the plotters wished either to get rid of him or
to inspire his colleagues with jealousy of his leadership. The Grand
Master sought to have the King assassinated. Conrade tried to break
up the league by milder means: he first provoked the Duke of Austria
to insult the English banner; and then thinking rightly that the
suspicion and wrath of Richard would fall upon Austria, he secretly
stole the banner from its place. Its safe-keeping, after Austria's
insult, had been entrusted by the King to Sir Kenneth, known as the
Knight of the Leopard, in reality David Prince of Scotland, who in
the disguise of an obscure gentleman had joined the crusade as a
follower of the English King. Sir Kenneth was innocently decoyed from
his watch, and in his absence, the banner, left with but his dog to
guard it, was stolen by Conrade. For his failure of duty. Sir Kenneth
was condemned to immediate death, but Saladin, who in the disguise of
an Arab physician was in the English camp, and who had rescued the
King from death by fever, urgently interceding, his life was spared.
Saladin took Sir Kenneth to the camp of the Saracens, and knowing his
worth and valor, having previously had knightly encounter with him in
the desert, disguised him as a Nubian slave, and sent him as a
present to Richard with the hope that he might in some way discover
by whom the banner had been stolen. Attending Richard as a slave Sir
Kenneth saved the king from the assassination which the Grand Master
had instigated, and aided by the instinct of his dog, also disguised,
he detected the thief in Conrade. Richard thereupon, at once charged
Conrade with the theft, and challenged him to mortal combat. The King
was prevented by the Council of the Princes from fighting in person,
but having divined in the Nubian slave the former Knight of the
Leopard, he permitted Sir Kenneth to fight in his stead, that the
knight might atone for the dishonor of being faithless in his watch.
Conrade's cause was espoused by the Grand Master, who had been his
confidant, and by the Duke of Austria. The encounter was appointed to
take place at the Diamond of the Desert, in the territory of Saladin,
who was asked to act as umpire. It had been stipulated that but five
hundred Saracens should be present at the trial; Saladin, however,
having been apprised of further plotting on the part of the Grand
Master, for safety's sake caused a larger attendance of his
followers. Sir Kenneth had long loved Edith Plantagenet, but being
known to her only as a poor and nameless adventurer, he had not yet
openly avowed his love.
XXXI. TO A HIGHLAND GIRL.
(AT INVERSNEYDE, UPON LOCH LOMOND.)
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.--1770-1850.
Sweet Highland girl, a very shower
Of beauty is thy earthly dower!
Twice seven consenting years have shed
Their utmost bounty on thy head:
And these gray rocks; this household lawn;
These trees, a veil just half withdrawn;
This fall of water, that doth make
A murmur near the silent lake;
This little bay, a quiet road
That holds in shelter thy abode;
In truth, together do ye seem
Like something fashion'd in a dream;
Such forms as from their covert peep
When earthly cares are laid asleep!
Yet, dream and vision as thou art,
I bless thee with a human heart:
God shield thee to thy latest years!
Thee neither know I nor thy peers;
And yet my eyes are fill'd with tears.
With earnest feeling I shall pray
For thee when I am far away:
For never saw I mien, or face,
In which more plainly I could trace
Benignity and home-bred sense
Ripening in perfect innocence.
Here scatter'd like a random seed,
Remote from men, thou dost not need
The embarrass'd look of shy distress,
And maidenly shamefacedness:
Thou wear'st upon thy forehead clear
The freedom of a mountaineer:
A face with gladness overspread!
Soft smiles, by human kindness bred!
And seemliness complete, that sways
Thy courtesies, about thee plays;
With no restraint, but such as springs
From quick and eager visitings
Of thoughts that lie beyond the reach
Of thy few words of English speech:
A bondage sweetly brook'd, a strife
That gives thy gestures grace and life!
So have I, not unmov'd in mind,
Seen birds of tempest-loving kind,
Thus beating up against the wind.
What hand but would a garland cull
For thee who art so beautiful?
O happy pleasure! here to dwell
Beside thee in some heathy dell;
Adopt your homely ways, and dress,
A shepherd, thou a shepherdess!
But I could frame a wish for thee
More like a grave reality:
Thou art to me but as a wave
Of the wild sea; and I would have
Some claim upon thee, if I could,
Though but of common neighborhood.
What joy to hear thee, and to see!
Thy elder brother I would be,
Thy father, anything to thee!
Now thanks to Heaven! that of its grace
Hath led me to this lonely place.
Joy have I had; and going hence
I bear away my recompense.
In spots like these it is we prize
Our memory, feel that she hath eyes:
Then, why should I be loth to stir?
I feel this place was made for her;
To give new pleasure like the past,
Continued long as life shall last.
Nor am I loth, though pleas'd at heart,
Sweet Highland girl! from thee to part;
For I, methinks, till I grow old,
As fair before me shall behold,
As I do now, the cabin small,
The lake, the bay, the waterfall;
And thee, the spirit of them all!
XXXII. FRANCE: AN ODE.
(1797.)
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.--1772-1834.
I.
Ye Clouds! that far above me float and pause,
Whose pathless march no mortal may control!
Ye Ocean-Waves! that, wheresoe'er ye roll,
Yield homage only to eternal laws!
Ye Woods! that listen to the night-birds singing,
Midway the smooth and perilous slope reclin'd,
Save when your own imperious branches, swinging,
Have made a solemn music of the wind!
Where, like a man belov'd of God,
Through glooms, which never woodman trod,
How oft, pursuing fancies holy,
My moonlight way o'er flowering weeds I wound,
Inspir'd, beyond the guess of folly,
By each rude shape and wild unconquerable sound!
O ye loud Waves! and O ye Forests high!
And O ye Clouds that far above me soar'd!
Thou rising Sun! thou blue rejoicing Sky!
Yea, every thing that is and will be free!
Bear witness for me, wheresoe'er ye be,
With what deep worship I have still ador'd
The spirit of divinest Liberty.
II.
When France in wrath her giant-limbs uprear'd,
And with that oath, which smote air, earth, and sea,
Stamp'd her strong foot and said she would be free,
Bear witness for me, how I hoped and fear'd!
With what a joy my lofty gratulation
Unaw'd I sang, amid a slavish band;
And when to whelm the disenchanted nation,
Like fiends embattled by a wizard's wand.
The Monarchs march'd in evil day,
And Britain join'd the dire array,
Though dear her shores and circling ocean,
Though many friendships, many youthful loves,
Had swoll'n the patriot emotion,
And flung a magic light o'er all her hills and groves;
Yet still my voice, unalter'd, sang defeat
To all that brav'd the tyrant-quelling lance,
And shame too long delay'd and vain retreat!
For ne'er, O Liberty! with partial aim
I dimm'd thy light or damp'd thy holy flame;
But bless'd the paeans of deliver'd France,
And hung my head and wept at Britain's name.
III.