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the window, Rebecca, with tolerable security to herself, could witness part of what was passing without the castle, and report to Ivanhoe the preparations which the assailants were making for the storm.
2. “The skirts of the wood seem lined with archers, although only a few are advanced from its dark shadow.” “Under what banner?” asked Ivanhoe. “Under no ensign of war which I can observe," answered Rebecca. “A singular novelty," muttered the knight, “to advance to storm such a castle without pennon or banner displayed !-Seest thou who they be that act as leaders ?” “A knight, clad in sable armor, is the most conspicuous,” said the Jewess ; "he alone is armed from head to heel, and seems to assume the direction of all around him.”
3. "What device does he bear on his shield ?” replied Iranhoe. “ Something resembling a bar of iron, and a padlock painted blue on the black shield.” “A fetterlock and shacklebolt ăzure,” said Ivanhoe ; "I know not who may bear the device, but well I ween it might now be mine own. Canst thou not see the motto ?” “Scarce the device itself, at this distance,” replied Rebecca ; " but when the sun glances fair upon his shield, it shows as I tell you."
4. “Seem there no other leaders ?" exclaimed the anxious inquirer. “None (năn) of mark and distinction that I can behold from this station,” said Rebecca ; “but, doubtless, the other side of the castle is also assailed. They appear even now preparing to advance.” Her description was here suddenly interrupted by the signal for assault, which was given by the blast of a shrill bugle, and at once answered by a floŭrish of the Norman trumpets from the battlements.
5. And I must lie here like a bedridden monk," exclaimed Ivanhoe, “while the game that gives me freedom or death is played out by the hand of others !—Look from the window once again, kind maiden,—but beware that you are not marked by the archers benēath,— look out once more, and tell me if they yet advance to the storm."—With patient coŭrage, strengthened by the interval which she had employed in mental devotion, Rebecca again (ă gěn') took post at the lattice, sheltering her- . self, however, so as not to be visible from beneath.
6. “What dost thou see, Rebecca ?” again demanded the wounded knight. “Nothing (nŭth'ing) but the cloud of årrows
flying so thick as to dazzle mine eyes, and to hide the bowmen who shoot them.” “That can not endure," said Ivanhoe ; "if they press not right on to carry the castle by pure force of arms, the archery may avail but little against stone walls and bulwarks. Look for the Knight of the Fetterlock, fair Rebecca, and see how he bears himself ; for, as the leader is, so will his followers be.” “I see him not,” said Rebecca.
7. “Foul craven !” exclaimed Ivanhoe ; "does he blench from the helm when the wind blows highest ?” “ He blenches not! he blenches not !” said Rebecca ; “I see him now ; he leads a body of men close under the outer barrier of the barbacan.' They pull down the piles and palisades;' they hew down the barriers with 'axes. His high black plume floats abroad over the thrăng, like a raven over the field of the slain. They have made a breach in the barriers—they rush in—they are thrust back !_Front-de-Boufs heads the defenders ;-I see his gigantic form above the press. They throng again to the breach, and the
pass is disputed hand to hand, and man to man. It is the meeting of two fierce tides—the conflict of two oceans, moved by ăd'verse winds!”
8. She turned her head from the lattice, as if unable lõnger to endure a sight so terrible. “Look forth again, Rebecca," said Ivanhoe, mistaking the cause of her retiring ; "the archery must in some degree have ceased, since they are now fighting hand to hand. Look again; there is now less danger.” Rebecca again looked forth, and almost immediately exclaimed :"Front-de-Boeuf and the Black Knight fight hand to hand on the breach, ămid the roar of their followers, who watch the progress of the strife. Heaven strike with the cause of the oppressed, and of the captive!” She then uttered a loud shriek, and exclaimed :—“He is down !-he is down!" “ Who is down?” cried Ivanhoe. “For our dear lady's sake, tell me which has fallen ?”
9. “The Black Knight," answered Rebecca, faintly; then instantly again shouted, with joyful õagerness,—“But nombut no!-he is on foot again, and fights as if there were twenty men's strength in his single arm-his sword is broken-he snatches an axe from a yeoman-he presses Front-de-Boeuf with blow on blow-the giant stoops and totters, like an oak under the steel of the woodman-he falls—he falls !"
1 Barba can, an advanced work defending the entrance to a castle or city, as at a draw-bridge or gate.
• Păl'i sāde', a strong sharp stake,
one end of which is set firmly in the ground; a fence formed of palisades, used as a means of defense.
* Front-de-Boeuf, (fröng.dů-bůf.)
10. “ Front-de-Bouf ?” exclaimed Ivanhoe. « Front-deBoeuf !” answered the Jewess. “His men rush to the rescue, headed by the haughty Templar-their united force compels the champion to pause-they drag Front-de-Boeuf within the walls.”
11. “The assailants have won the barriers, have they not?” said Ivanhoe. “They have—they have !" exclaimed Rebecca, “and they press the beseiged hard upon the outer wall; some plant ladders, some swarm like bees, and endeavor to ascend upon tho shoulders of each other-down go stones, beams, and trunks of trees upon their heads, and as fast as they bear the wounded men to the rear, fresh men supply their place in the assault. Great Gödl hast thou given men thine own image, that it should be thus cruelly defaced by the hands of their brethren!”
12. “Think not of that,” said Ivanhoe ; "this is no time for such thoughts. Who yield ?—who push their way?" "The ladders are thrown down," replied' Rebecca, shuddering. "The soldiers lie gróveling under them like crushed reptiles—the besieged have the better!”
13. “Saint George strike for us!” exclaimed the knight ; "do the false yeomen give way?" "No!" exclaimed Rebecca ; “they bear themselves right yeomanly—the Black Knight approaches the postern with his huge axe—the thundering blows which he deals, you may hear them above all the din and shouts ! of the battle-stones and beams are hailed down on the bold champion—he regards them no more than if they were thistledown or feathers !"
14. “By Saint John of Acre!” said Ivanhoe, raising himself joyfully on his couch ; "methought there was but one man in England that might do such a deed!”—“The postern gate shakes," continued Rebecca ; "it crashes-it is splintered by his blows-they rush in-the outwork is won—they hurl the defenders from the battlements—they throw them into the
* Yeo' man, a man free born; a sage between the parade and the freeholder.
main ditch, or between the ditches of · Põs' tern, an under-ground pas the interior of the ontworks of a fort
moat! Oh, men,-if ye be indeed men,-spare them that can resist no longer!”
15. “The bridge,—the bridge which communicates with the castle,-have they won that pass?" exclaimed Ivanhoe. "No," replied Rebecca ; "the Templar has destroyed the plank on which they crossed--few of the defenders escaped with him into the castle—the shrieks and cries which you hear, tell the fate of the others! Alas! I see it is still more difficult to look upon victory than upon battle!”
16. “What do they now, maiden ?” said Ivanhoe ; “look forth yět again—this is no time to faint at bloodshed.” “It is over for the time," answered Rebecca. “Our friends strengthen themselves within the outwork which they have mastered, and it affords them so good a shelter from the foeman's shot, that the garison only bestow a few bõlts on it, from interval to interval, as if rather to disquiet than effectually to injure them.”
SIR WALTER SCOTT, a Scottish poet and novelist, one of the most remarkable and laborious writers of any age, was born in Edinburgh, August 15th, 1771. Being a delicate child, he was sent at three years of age to reside on his pater. nal grandfather's farm, in Roxburghshire, a region abounding in traditions of the border wars, to which even in infancy he was an eager listener. He returned to Edinburgh in 1779, greatly improved in health, excepting a lameness from which he never recovered. He soon became a pupil in the high school of Edinburgh, whence, in 1783, he was transferred to the university. His career at school or college was not brilliant; but he was an indefatigab reader of romances, old plays, poetry, and miscellaneous literature, and a keen observer of natural scenery. After six years devoted to professional study in his father's office, to miscellaneous reading, and composition, he was called to the Scottish bar, in 1792. He married Miss Charlotte Carpenter, a young lady of great beauty, in 1797. His first great poem, "The Lay of the Last Minstrel," on its publication in 1805, was received with universal admiration, and placed the author among the foremost poets of the age. His appointment, in 1806, to one of the chief clerk: ships in the Scottish Court of Sessions, with a salary soon increased to £1300, enabled him to devote himself exclusively to literature. In 1808“ Marmion” appeared; in 1810, the “Lady of the Lake;" which were followed by the “ Vision of Don Roderic,” “Rokeby,” and in 1815, “The Lord of the Isles.” In the summer of 1814, he commenced his more splendid career, as a novelist, by publishing “Waverley.” In that year a portion of his literary gains were devoted to the purchase of a small farm on the river Tweed, not far from Melrose, to which he gave the name of Abbotsford, now one of the most famous literary shrines of Scotland. To“Waverley” rapidly succeeded, for nearly fifteen years, his series of novels that appeared anonymously. In 1826, two firms, his publishers and his printers, failed, leaving Scott's liabilities little less than £150,000.Unappalled by the magnitude of his misfortunes, having secured an extension of time, at the age of fifty-five, he heroically set to work to reimburse his creditors by his literary labors. At the time of his death, at Abbotsford, September
21st, 1832, he had paid upward of £100,000 of his debts; and soon after by the sale of his copyright interest in the Waverley novels, the claims of all his cred. itors were fully satisfied-a result perhaps never achieved before or since within 80 brief a space of time by the literary efforts of a single person. His character is most happily sketched by Prescott, p. 370.
HAKSPEARE is, above all writers,- at least above all
modern writers,—the poët of nature ; the poet that holds up to his readers a faithful mirror of manners and of life. His characters are not modified by the customs of particular places, unpracticed by the rest of the world ; by the peculiarities of studies or professions, which can operate but upon
small numbers; or by the accidents of transient fashions or temporary opinions; they are the genuine progeny of common humanity, such as the world will always supply, and observation will always find. His persons act and speak by the influence of those general passions and principles by which all minds are agitated, and the whole system of life is continued in motion. In the writings of other poets a character is too often an individual : in those of Shāks'peare it is commonly a species.
2. It is from this wide extension of design that so much instruction is derived. It is this which fills the plays of Shakspeare with practical axioms and domestic wisdom. It was said of Euripides,' that ěvery verse was a precept; and it may be said of Shakspeare, that from his works may be collected a system of civil and economical prudence.' Yět his real power is not shown in the splendor of particular passages, but by the progress of his fable, and the tenor of his dialogue : and he that tries to recommend him by select quotations, will succeed like the pedant in Hiër'ocles,' who, when he offered his house to sale, carried a brick in his pocket as a specimen.
· Eu rip'i dēs, one of the three with Socrates. According to some great Greek tragedians, was born in authorities, Euripides wrote ninetySalamis, whither his parents retired two tragedies, according to others, during the occupation of Attica by seventy-five. Of these nineteen are Xerxes, on the day of the glorious extant. He died B. C 406. victory near that island, B. C. 480. · Hi ěr o cles, a Platonic philoso He was highly learned and accom- pher of Alexandria, who wrote plished, and on terms of intimacy many facetious stories.