Read Online Ivanhoe (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) by Walter Scott - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Walter Scott
Ads: Link
“expound that to me, Wamba, for my brain is too dull and my mind too vexed to read riddles.”
“Why, how call you those grunting brutes running about on their four legs?” demanded Wamba.
“Swine, fool—swine,” said the herd; “every fool knows that.”
“And swine is good Saxon,” said the Jester; “but how call you the sow when she is flayed, and drawn, and quartered, and hung up by the heels, like a traitor?”
“Pork,” answered the swineherd.
“I am very glad every fool knows that too,” said Wamba, “and pork, I think, is good Norman-French; and so when the brute lives, and is in the charge of a Saxon slave, she goes by her Saxon name; but becomes a Norman, and is called pork, when she is carried to the castle hall to feast among the nobles. What dost thou think of this, friend Gurth, ha?”
“It is but too true doctrine, friend Wamba, however it got into thy fool’s pate.”
“Nay, I can tell you more,” said Wamba in the same tone: “there is old Alderman Ox continues to hold his Saxon epithet while he is under the charge of serfs and bondsmen such as thou, but becomes Beef, a fiery French gallant, when he arrives before the worshipful jaws that are destined to consume him. Mynherr Calf, too, becomes Monsieur de Veau in the like manner: he is Saxon when he requires tendance, and takes a Norman name when he becomes matter of enjoyment.”
“By St. Dunstan,” answered Gurth, “thou speakest but sad truths; little is left to us but the air we breathe, and that appears to have been reserved with much hesitation, solely for the purpose of enabling us to endure the tasks they lay upon our shoulders. The finest and the fattest is for their board; the loveliest is for their couch; the best and bravest supply their foreign masters with soldiers, and whiten distant lands with their bones, leaving few here who have either will or the power to protect the unfortunate Saxon. God’s blessing on our Master Cedric, he hath done the work of a man in standing in the gap; but Reginald Front-de-Boeuf is coming down to this country in person, and we shall soon see how little Cedric’s trouble will avail him. Here, here,” he exclaimed again, raising his voice, “So ho! so ho! well done, Fangs! thou hast them all before thee now, and bring’st them on bravely, lad.”
“Gurth,” said the Jester, “I know thou thinkest me a fool, or thou wouldst not be so rash in putting thy head into my mouth. One word to Reginald Front-de-Boeuf or Philip de Malvoisin, that thou hast spoken treason against the Norman—and thou art but a castaway swineherd; thou wouldst waver on one of these trees as a terror to all evil speakers against dignities.”
“Dog, thou wouldst not betray me,” said Gurth, “after having led me on to speak so much at disadvantage?”
“Betray thee!” answered the Jester; “no, that were the trick of a wise man; a fool cannot half so well help himself. But soft, whom have we here?” he said, listening to the trampling of several horses which became then audible.
“Never mind whom,” answered Gurth, who had now got his herd before him, and, with the aid of Fangs, was driving them down one of the long dim vistas which we have endeavoured to describe.
“Nay, but I must see the riders,” answered Wamba; “perhaps they are come from Fairyland with a message from King Oberon.” 3 “A murrain v take thee!” rejoined the swineherd; “wilt thou talk of such things, while a terrible storm of thunder and lightning is raging within a few miles of us? Hark, how the thunder rumbles! and for summer rain, I never saw such broad downright flat drops fall out of the clouds; the oaks, too, notwithstanding the calm weather, sob and creak with their great boughs as if announcing a tempest. Thou canst play the rational if thou wilt; credit me for once, and let us home ere the storm begins to rage, for the night will be fearful.”
Wamba seemed to feel the force of this appeal, and
“Why, how call you those grunting brutes running about on their four legs?” demanded Wamba.
“Swine, fool—swine,” said the herd; “every fool knows that.”
“And swine is good Saxon,” said the Jester; “but how call you the sow when she is flayed, and drawn, and quartered, and hung up by the heels, like a traitor?”
“Pork,” answered the swineherd.
“I am very glad every fool knows that too,” said Wamba, “and pork, I think, is good Norman-French; and so when the brute lives, and is in the charge of a Saxon slave, she goes by her Saxon name; but becomes a Norman, and is called pork, when she is carried to the castle hall to feast among the nobles. What dost thou think of this, friend Gurth, ha?”
“It is but too true doctrine, friend Wamba, however it got into thy fool’s pate.”
“Nay, I can tell you more,” said Wamba in the same tone: “there is old Alderman Ox continues to hold his Saxon epithet while he is under the charge of serfs and bondsmen such as thou, but becomes Beef, a fiery French gallant, when he arrives before the worshipful jaws that are destined to consume him. Mynherr Calf, too, becomes Monsieur de Veau in the like manner: he is Saxon when he requires tendance, and takes a Norman name when he becomes matter of enjoyment.”
“By St. Dunstan,” answered Gurth, “thou speakest but sad truths; little is left to us but the air we breathe, and that appears to have been reserved with much hesitation, solely for the purpose of enabling us to endure the tasks they lay upon our shoulders. The finest and the fattest is for their board; the loveliest is for their couch; the best and bravest supply their foreign masters with soldiers, and whiten distant lands with their bones, leaving few here who have either will or the power to protect the unfortunate Saxon. God’s blessing on our Master Cedric, he hath done the work of a man in standing in the gap; but Reginald Front-de-Boeuf is coming down to this country in person, and we shall soon see how little Cedric’s trouble will avail him. Here, here,” he exclaimed again, raising his voice, “So ho! so ho! well done, Fangs! thou hast them all before thee now, and bring’st them on bravely, lad.”
“Gurth,” said the Jester, “I know thou thinkest me a fool, or thou wouldst not be so rash in putting thy head into my mouth. One word to Reginald Front-de-Boeuf or Philip de Malvoisin, that thou hast spoken treason against the Norman—and thou art but a castaway swineherd; thou wouldst waver on one of these trees as a terror to all evil speakers against dignities.”
“Dog, thou wouldst not betray me,” said Gurth, “after having led me on to speak so much at disadvantage?”
“Betray thee!” answered the Jester; “no, that were the trick of a wise man; a fool cannot half so well help himself. But soft, whom have we here?” he said, listening to the trampling of several horses which became then audible.
“Never mind whom,” answered Gurth, who had now got his herd before him, and, with the aid of Fangs, was driving them down one of the long dim vistas which we have endeavoured to describe.
“Nay, but I must see the riders,” answered Wamba; “perhaps they are come from Fairyland with a message from King Oberon.” 3 “A murrain v take thee!” rejoined the swineherd; “wilt thou talk of such things, while a terrible storm of thunder and lightning is raging within a few miles of us? Hark, how the thunder rumbles! and for summer rain, I never saw such broad downright flat drops fall out of the clouds; the oaks, too, notwithstanding the calm weather, sob and creak with their great boughs as if announcing a tempest. Thou canst play the rational if thou wilt; credit me for once, and let us home ere the storm begins to rage, for the night will be fearful.”
Wamba seemed to feel the force of this appeal, and
Similar Books
