Ivanhoe - Page 168/201

"It may be so," answered Cedric; "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

noble 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 nobles--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. We

made these strangers our bosom friends, our confidential servants;

we borrowed their artists and their arts, and despised the honest

simplicity and hardihood with which our brave ancestors supported

themselves, and we became enervated by Norman arts long ere we fell

under Norman arms. Far better was our homely diet, eaten in peace and

liberty, than the luxurious dainties, the love of which hath delivered

us as bondsmen to the foreign conqueror!"

"I should," replied Athelstane, "hold very humble diet a luxury at

present; and it astonishes me, noble Cedric, that you can bear so truly

in mind the memory of past deeds, when it appeareth you forget the very

hour of dinner."

"It is time lost," muttered Cedric apart and impatiently, "to speak

to him of aught else but that which concerns his appetite! The soul of

Hardicanute hath taken possession of him, and he hath no pleasure save

to fill, to swill, and to call for more.--Alas!" said he, looking at

Athelstane with compassion, "that so dull a spirit should be lodged in

so goodly a form! Alas! that such an enterprise as the regeneration of

England should turn on a hinge so imperfect! Wedded to Rowena, indeed,

her nobler and more generous soul may yet awake the better nature which

is torpid within him. Yet how should this be, while Rowena, Athelstane,

and I myself, remain the prisoners of this brutal marauder and have

been made so perhaps from a sense of the dangers which our liberty might

bring to the usurped power of his nation?"

While the Saxon was plunged in these painful reflections, the door of

their prison opened, and gave entrance to a sewer, holding his white rod

of office. This important person advanced into the chamber with a grave

pace, followed by four attendants, bearing in a table covered

with dishes, the sight and smell of which seemed to be an instant

compensation to Athelstane for all the inconvenience he had undergone.

The persons who attended on the feast were masked and cloaked.