Prince John Character Analysis

The figure of Rebecca might indeed have compared with the proudest beauties of England. […] Her form was exquisitely symmetrical, and was shewn to advantage by a sort of Eastern dress, which she wore according to the fashion of the females of her nation. Her turban of yellow silk suited well the darkness of her complexion. The brilliancy of her eyes, the superb arch of her eyebrows, her well-formed aquiline nose, her teeth as white as pearl and the profusion of her sable tresses[…]—all these constituted a combination of loveliness, which yielded not to the loveliest of the maidens who surrounded her. […] The feather of an ostrich, fastened in her turban by an agraffe set with brilliants, was another distinction of the beautiful Jewess, scoffed and sneered at by the proud dames who sat above her, but secretly envied by those who affected to deride them.

“Ay,” answered Isaac, “but if the tyrant lays hold on them as he did to-day and compels me to smile while he is robbing me—O daughter, disinherited and wandering as we are, the worst evil that befalls our race is, that when we are wronged and plundered, all the world laughs around, and we are compelled to suppress our sense of injury and to smile tamely, when we should revenge bravely.”

“Think not thus of it, my father,” said Rebecca; “we also have advantages. These Gentiles, cruel and oppressive as they are, are in some sort dependent on the dispersed children of Zion, whom they despise and persecute. Without the aid of our wealth, they could neither furnish forth their hosts in war, nor their triumphs in peace; and the gold which we lend them returns with increase to our coffers.”

[I]t was the misfortune of this Prince, that his levity and petulance were perpetually breaking out, and undoing all that had been gained by his previous dissimulation.

Of this fickle temper he gave a memorable example in Ireland […]. Upon this occasion, the Irish chieftains contended which should first offer to the young Prince their loyal homage and the kiss of peace. But, instead of receiving their salutations with courtesy, John and his petulant attendants could not resist the temptation of pulling the long beards of the Irish chieftains, a conduct which, as might have been expected, was highly resented by these insulted dignitaries, and produced fatal consequences to the English domination of Ireland.

Cedric and Athelstane were both dressed in the ancient Saxon garb, which, although not unhandsome in itself […] was so remote in shape and appearance from that of the other guests, that Prince John took great credit to himself […] for refraining from laughter. […] Yet, in the eye of sober judgement, that short close tunic and long mantle of the Saxons was a more graceful, as well as a more convenient dress, than the garb of the Normans, whose under garment was a long doublet, so loose as to resemble a shirt or waggoner’s frock, covered by a cloak of scanty dimensions, neither fit to defend the wearer from cold or from rain, and the only purpose of which seemed to be to display as much fur, embroidery, and jewellery work, as the ingenuity of the tailor could contrive to lay upon it.

No spider ever took more pains to repair the shattered meshes of his web, than did Waldemar Fitzurse to reunite and combine the scattered members of Prince John’s cabal. Few of these were attached to him from inclination, and none from personal attachment. It was therefore necessary […to] open to them new prospects of advantage, and remind them of those which they presently enjoyed. To the young and wild nobles, he held out the prospect of unpunished license and uncontrolled revelry; to the ambitions, that of power, and to the covetous, that of increased wealth and extended domains. The leaders of the mercenaries received a donation in gold; an argument most persuasive to their minds, and without which all others would have proved in vain. Promises were still more liberally distributed than money by this active agent; […] nothing was left undone that could determine the wavering, or animate the disheartened.

“It may be so […] but I cannot look on that stained lattice without its awakening other reflections than those which concern the passing moment, or its privations. When that window was wrought, my dear friend, our hardy fathers knew not the art of making glass, or of staining it—The pride of Wolfganger’s father brought an artist from Normandy to adorn his hall with this new species of emblazonment, that breaks the golden light of God’s blessed day into so many fantastic hues. The foreigner came here, poor, beggarly, cringing, and subservient, ready to doff his cap to the meanest native of the household. He returned pampered and proud, to tell his rapacious countrymen of the wealth and the simplicity of the Saxon noble—a folly, oh Athelstane, foreboded of old, as well as foreseen, by those descendants of Hengist and his hardy tribes who retained the simplicity of their manners.

The figure of Rebecca might indeed have compared with the proudest beauties of England. […] Her form was exquisitely symmetrical, and was shewn to advantage by a sort of Eastern dress, which she wore according to the fashion of the females of her nation. Her turban of yellow silk suited well the darkness of her complexion. The brilliancy of her eyes, the superb arch of her eyebrows, her well-formed aquiline nose, her teeth as white as pearl and the profusion of her sable tresses[…]—all these constituted a combination of loveliness, which yielded not to the loveliest of the maidens who surrounded her. […] The feather of an ostrich, fastened in her turban by an agraffe set with brilliants, was another distinction of the beautiful Jewess, scoffed and sneered at by the proud dames who sat above her, but secretly envied by those who affected to deride them.

“Ay,” answered Isaac, “but if the tyrant lays hold on them as he did to-day and compels me to smile while he is robbing me—O daughter, disinherited and wandering as we are, the worst evil that befalls our race is, that when we are wronged and plundered, all the world laughs around, and we are compelled to suppress our sense of injury and to smile tamely, when we should revenge bravely.”

“Think not thus of it, my father,” said Rebecca; “we also have advantages. These Gentiles, cruel and oppressive as they are, are in some sort dependent on the dispersed children of Zion, whom they despise and persecute. Without the aid of our wealth, they could neither furnish forth their hosts in war, nor their triumphs in peace; and the gold which we lend them returns with increase to our coffers.”

[I]t was the misfortune of this Prince, that his levity and petulance were perpetually breaking out, and undoing all that had been gained by his previous dissimulation.

Of this fickle temper he gave a memorable example in Ireland […]. Upon this occasion, the Irish chieftains contended which should first offer to the young Prince their loyal homage and the kiss of peace. But, instead of receiving their salutations with courtesy, John and his petulant attendants could not resist the temptation of pulling the long beards of the Irish chieftains, a conduct which, as might have been expected, was highly resented by these insulted dignitaries, and produced fatal consequences to the English domination of Ireland.

Cedric and Athelstane were both dressed in the ancient Saxon garb, which, although not unhandsome in itself […] was so remote in shape and appearance from that of the other guests, that Prince John took great credit to himself […] for refraining from laughter. […] Yet, in the eye of sober judgement, that short close tunic and long mantle of the Saxons was a more graceful, as well as a more convenient dress, than the garb of the Normans, whose under garment was a long doublet, so loose as to resemble a shirt or waggoner’s frock, covered by a cloak of scanty dimensions, neither fit to defend the wearer from cold or from rain, and the only purpose of which seemed to be to display as much fur, embroidery, and jewellery work, as the ingenuity of the tailor could contrive to lay upon it.

No spider ever took more pains to repair the shattered meshes of his web, than did Waldemar Fitzurse to reunite and combine the scattered members of Prince John’s cabal. Few of these were attached to him from inclination, and none from personal attachment. It was therefore necessary […to] open to them new prospects of advantage, and remind them of those which they presently enjoyed. To the young and wild nobles, he held out the prospect of unpunished license and uncontrolled revelry; to the ambitions, that of power, and to the covetous, that of increased wealth and extended domains. The leaders of the mercenaries received a donation in gold; an argument most persuasive to their minds, and without which all others would have proved in vain. Promises were still more liberally distributed than money by this active agent; […] nothing was left undone that could determine the wavering, or animate the disheartened.

“It may be so […] but I cannot look on that stained lattice without its awakening other reflections than those which concern the passing moment, or its privations. When that window was wrought, my dear friend, our hardy fathers knew not the art of making glass, or of staining it—The pride of Wolfganger’s father brought an artist from Normandy to adorn his hall with this new species of emblazonment, that breaks the golden light of God’s blessed day into so many fantastic hues. The foreigner came here, poor, beggarly, cringing, and subservient, ready to doff his cap to the meanest native of the household. He returned pampered and proud, to tell his rapacious countrymen of the wealth and the simplicity of the Saxon noble—a folly, oh Athelstane, foreboded of old, as well as foreseen, by those descendants of Hengist and his hardy tribes who retained the simplicity of their manners.