Ivanhoe - Page 179/201

He saluted Rowena by doffing his velvet bonnet, garnished with a golden

broach, representing St Michael trampling down the Prince of Evil. With

this, he gently motioned the lady to a seat; and, as she still retained

her standing posture, the knight ungloved his right hand, and motioned

to conduct her thither. But Rowena declined, by her gesture, the

proffered compliment, and replied, "If I be in the presence of

my jailor, Sir Knight--nor will circumstances allow me to think

otherwise--it best becomes his prisoner to remain standing till she

learns her doom."

"Alas! fair Rowena," returned De Bracy, "you are in presence of your

captive, not your jailor; and it is from your fair eyes that De Bracy

must receive that doom which you fondly expect from him."

"I know you not, sir," said the lady, drawing herself up with all the

pride of offended rank and beauty; "I know you not--and the insolent

familiarity with which you apply to me the jargon of a troubadour, forms

no apology for the violence of a robber."

"To thyself, fair maid," answered De Bracy, in his former tone--"to

thine own charms be ascribed whate'er I have done which passed the

respect due to her, whom I have chosen queen of my heart, and lodestar

of my eyes."

"I repeat to you, Sir Knight, that I know you not, and that no man

wearing chain and spurs ought thus to intrude himself upon the presence

of an unprotected lady."

"That I am unknown to you," said De Bracy, "is indeed my misfortune;

yet let me hope that De Bracy's name has not been always unspoken, when

minstrels or heralds have praised deeds of chivalry, whether in the

lists or in the battle-field."

"To heralds and to minstrels, then, leave thy praise, Sir Knight,"

replied Rowena, "more suiting for their mouths than for thine own; and

tell me which of them shall record in song, or in book of tourney, the

memorable conquest of this night, a conquest obtained over an old man,

followed by a few timid hinds; and its booty, an unfortunate maiden,

transported against her will to the castle of a robber?"

"You are unjust, Lady Rowena," said the knight, biting his lips in

some confusion, and speaking in a tone more natural to him than that of

affected gallantry, which he had at first adopted; "yourself free from

passion, you can allow no excuse for the frenzy of another, although

caused by your own beauty."