University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

—Interior of Copmanhurst Hermitage.—The Clerk and Ivanhoe enter.
Ivanhoe.
Shelter at least. Now for my bed and supper.
What says your holiness?

Clerk.
Your bed is there,
In yonder nook: for supper—'tis before you.

Ivanhoe.
A bed of straw, and supper of dry peas!
What splendid fare! and wholesome too, or you
Had never grown so stout on it. For drink?

Clerk.
There's plenty in St. Dunstan's well; his name
Be blessed for it.

Ivanhoe.
Umph! you call yourself—

Clerk.
The Clerk of Copmanhurst; the holy clerk,
As some do add; but I stand not on that,
As being little worthy of the honour.

Ivanhoe.
Exceeding modest! But the cupboard there?
'Twas built for something.

Clerk.
I keep relics in it.

Ivanhoe.
The relics of cold ven'son it may be.

Clerk.
Now I think on't, the keeper of the forest
Did leave a ven'son pasty.

He goes to the cupboard and brings out a pasty.
Ivanhoe.
So I thought.
'Tis excellent! he left some wine too?—Yes.

Clerk.
I cannot recollect it.

Ivanhoe.
'Tis indeed
A trifle most unworthy to hold place
In your most holy brain; but search that crypt;
It may be you will find my guess is right.

The Clerk goes to the cupboard and brings out a bottle of wine.
Clerk.
Ay, by St. Dunstan is it!—Mighty strange.

Ivanhoe.
Oh! very strange! Drink hael—But, holy clerk,
Had I thy legs and such a brawny arm,
I'd walk by moonlight, pattering my pray'rs,
And ever and anon let fly a shaft
Among the deer—What think you of it now?
Were't not a pretty pastime?

Clerk.
You see the trinkets here?

He opens a little armoury, of bows, cross-bows, &c.
Ivanhoe.
I thank thee well,
And make no farther question.

Clerk.
Heaven's faith!
I do suspect thy valour as thy wit:
But you're my guest; sing, if you cannot fight,—
Do something to amuse me.

Ivanhoe.
I've no voice.

Clerk.
Nor fight, nor sing! and call yourself a Knight!
Thou dost not know thy craft, man.

Knocking without.
Ivanhoe.
More guests.

Clerk.
Help! Help! Sir Knight!
I would not for my cowl they found me thus;
The knaves might term this hospitable feast
Debauchery, a vice I most abhor.

Ivanhoe.
Vile slanderers of virtue!

Robin Hood.
(without)
Open quick:
Open to Robin Hood!

Ivanhoe.
Mort de ma vie!
The King of Sherwood forest and mad Tuck!
Now by my holy dame, a braver king
And more anointed priest, my travel ne'er
Has met withal.

Robin Hood and Foresters enter.
Robin Hood.
How! Ivanhoe!

Tuck.
St. Dunstan!
You know him then?

Robin Hood.
'Tis little strange, I know
The gallant Knight who won the tourney's prize;
But quick, mad clerk; do off thy frock of grey,
And don thy Lincoln green; we've work in hand.
Brave Knight, we need your aid.

Ivanhoe.
I grieve my hours
Are number'd to a purpose that admits
Of no delay.

Tuck.
I'm ready for your work.

Robin Hood.
Attend: your father, Cedric; the rich Jew,
His daughter, fair Rebecca,—

Ivanhoe.
What of her?
She should be now at York.

Robin Hood.
Their way, indeed,
Was thither, when Sir Brian bore them off;
Chance made me witness of the deed.

Ivanhoe.
My arms!—

Robin Hood.
Ay, now you speak it in a soldier's note.

Ivanhoe.
Come on, brave friends! No pity—no remorse,
Till vict'ry, new launch'd, float on a sea
Of crimson water mid the shouts of triumph.

Robin Hood.
Nay, while we talk, the time for deed grows cold.

Ivanhoe.
To Brian's castle! Wrap the walls in fire!
Nought's for the coward!—all is for the brave!

(Exeunt omnes.