Locksley/Robin Hood (The Yeoman Archer) Quotes in Ivanhoe
“Glory?” continued Rebecca; “alas, it is the rusted mail which hangs as a hatchment over the champion’s dim and mouldering tomb—is the defaced sculpture of the inscription with which the ignorant monk can hardly read to the inquiring pilgrim—are these sufficient rewards for the sacrifice of every kindly affection, for a life spent miserably that ye make others miserable? Or is there such virtue in the rude rhymes of a wandering bard, that domestic love, kindly affection, peace and happiness are so wildly bartered, to become the hero of these ballads which vagabond minstrels sing to drunken churls over their evening ale?”
[…] “Thou speakest, maiden of thou knowest not what. Thou wouldst quench the pure light of chivalry, which alone distinguishes the noble from the base, the gentle knight from the churl and the savage; which rates our life far, far beneath the pitch of our honor […].”
“O, assuredly,” said Isaac. “I have trafficked with the good fathers, and bought wheat and barley, and fruits of the earth, and also much wool. O, it is a rich abbey-stede, and they do live up on the fat, and drink the sweet wine upon the lees, these good fathers of Jorvaulx. Ah, if an out-cast like me had such a home to go to, and such incomings by the year and by the term, I would pay much gold and silver to redeem my captivity.”
“Hound of a Jew!” exclaimed the Prior, “no one knows better than thy own cursed self, that our holy house of God is indebted for the finishing of our chancel!”—
“And for the storing of your cellars in the last season with the due allowance of Gascon wine,” interrupted the Jew; “but it is small matters.”
“Nay, beshrew thee, man, up with thee! I am English-born, and love no such eastern prostrations—Kneel to God, and not to a poor sinner like me.”
“Ay, Jew,” said Prior Aymer, “kneel to God, as represented in the servant of his later, and who knoweth, with thy sincere repentance and due gifts to the shrine of Saint Robert, what grace thou mayest acquire for thyself and thy daughter Rebecca? I grieve for the maiden, for she is [beautiful…]. Also Brian de Bois-Guilbert is one with whom I may do much—bethink thee how thou canst deserve my good word with him.”
“Alas! alas!” said the Jew, “on every hand the spoilers arise against me […].”
“And what else should be the lot of an accursed race?” answered the Prior; “for what saith holy writ […]—I will give their women to strangers […] and their treasures to others.”
“And Richard Plantagenet,” said the King, desires no more fame than his good lance and sword may acquire him—and Richard Plantagenet is prouder of achieving an adventure, with only his good sword, and his good arm to speed, than if he led to battle a host of an hundred thousand armed men.”
“But your kingdom, my lord,” said Ivanhoe, “your kingdom is threatened with dissolution and civil war—your subjects menaced by every species of evil, if deprived of their sovereign in some of these dangers which it is your daily pleasure to incur, and from which you have but this moment narrowly escaped.”
Novelty in society and in adventure was the zest of life to Richard Coeur de Lion, and it had its highest relish when enhanced by dangers encountered and surmounted. In the lion-hearted King, the brilliant, but useless character, of a knight of romance, was in great measure realized; and the personal glory which he acquired by his own deeds of arms, was far more dear to his excited imagination than that which a course of policy and wisdom would have spread around his government. Accordingly, his reign was like the course of a brilliant and rapid meteor […]; his feats of chivalry furnishing themes for bards and minstrels, but affording none of those solid benefits to his country on which history loves to pause […]. But in his present company Richard shewed to the greatest imaginable advantage. He was gay, good-humored, liberal, and fond of manhood in every rank of life.
Locksley/Robin Hood (The Yeoman Archer) Quotes in Ivanhoe
“Glory?” continued Rebecca; “alas, it is the rusted mail which hangs as a hatchment over the champion’s dim and mouldering tomb—is the defaced sculpture of the inscription with which the ignorant monk can hardly read to the inquiring pilgrim—are these sufficient rewards for the sacrifice of every kindly affection, for a life spent miserably that ye make others miserable? Or is there such virtue in the rude rhymes of a wandering bard, that domestic love, kindly affection, peace and happiness are so wildly bartered, to become the hero of these ballads which vagabond minstrels sing to drunken churls over their evening ale?”
[…] “Thou speakest, maiden of thou knowest not what. Thou wouldst quench the pure light of chivalry, which alone distinguishes the noble from the base, the gentle knight from the churl and the savage; which rates our life far, far beneath the pitch of our honor […].”
“O, assuredly,” said Isaac. “I have trafficked with the good fathers, and bought wheat and barley, and fruits of the earth, and also much wool. O, it is a rich abbey-stede, and they do live up on the fat, and drink the sweet wine upon the lees, these good fathers of Jorvaulx. Ah, if an out-cast like me had such a home to go to, and such incomings by the year and by the term, I would pay much gold and silver to redeem my captivity.”
“Hound of a Jew!” exclaimed the Prior, “no one knows better than thy own cursed self, that our holy house of God is indebted for the finishing of our chancel!”—
“And for the storing of your cellars in the last season with the due allowance of Gascon wine,” interrupted the Jew; “but it is small matters.”
“Nay, beshrew thee, man, up with thee! I am English-born, and love no such eastern prostrations—Kneel to God, and not to a poor sinner like me.”
“Ay, Jew,” said Prior Aymer, “kneel to God, as represented in the servant of his later, and who knoweth, with thy sincere repentance and due gifts to the shrine of Saint Robert, what grace thou mayest acquire for thyself and thy daughter Rebecca? I grieve for the maiden, for she is [beautiful…]. Also Brian de Bois-Guilbert is one with whom I may do much—bethink thee how thou canst deserve my good word with him.”
“Alas! alas!” said the Jew, “on every hand the spoilers arise against me […].”
“And what else should be the lot of an accursed race?” answered the Prior; “for what saith holy writ […]—I will give their women to strangers […] and their treasures to others.”
“And Richard Plantagenet,” said the King, desires no more fame than his good lance and sword may acquire him—and Richard Plantagenet is prouder of achieving an adventure, with only his good sword, and his good arm to speed, than if he led to battle a host of an hundred thousand armed men.”
“But your kingdom, my lord,” said Ivanhoe, “your kingdom is threatened with dissolution and civil war—your subjects menaced by every species of evil, if deprived of their sovereign in some of these dangers which it is your daily pleasure to incur, and from which you have but this moment narrowly escaped.”
Novelty in society and in adventure was the zest of life to Richard Coeur de Lion, and it had its highest relish when enhanced by dangers encountered and surmounted. In the lion-hearted King, the brilliant, but useless character, of a knight of romance, was in great measure realized; and the personal glory which he acquired by his own deeds of arms, was far more dear to his excited imagination than that which a course of policy and wisdom would have spread around his government. Accordingly, his reign was like the course of a brilliant and rapid meteor […]; his feats of chivalry furnishing themes for bards and minstrels, but affording none of those solid benefits to his country on which history loves to pause […]. But in his present company Richard shewed to the greatest imaginable advantage. He was gay, good-humored, liberal, and fond of manhood in every rank of life.
