Ivanhoe

I'll woo her as the lion woos his bride.

--Douglas

While the scenes we have described were passing in other parts of the

castle, the Jewess Rebecca awaited her fate in a distant and sequestered

turret. Hither she had been led by two of her disguised ravishers, and

on being thrust into the little cell, she found herself in the presence

of an old sibyl, who kept murmuring to herself a Saxon rhyme, as if to

beat time to the revolving dance which her spindle was performing upon

the floor. The hag raised her head as Rebecca entered, and scowled at

the fair Jewess with the malignant envy with which old age and ugliness,

when united with evil conditions, are apt to look upon youth and beauty.

"Thou must up and away, old house-cricket," said one of the men; "our

noble master commands it--Thou must e'en leave this chamber to a fairer

guest."

"Ay," grumbled the hag, "even thus is service requited. I have known

when my bare word would have cast the best man-at-arms among ye out of

saddle and out of service; and now must I up and away at the command of

every groom such as thou."

"Good Dame Urfried," said the other man, "stand not to reason on it,

but up and away. Lords' hests must be listened to with a quick ear. Thou

hast had thy day, old dame, but thy sun has long been set. Thou art now

the very emblem of an old war-horse turned out on the barren heath--thou

hast had thy paces in thy time, but now a broken amble is the best of

them--Come, amble off with thee."

"Ill omens dog ye both!" said the old woman; "and a kennel be your

burying-place! May the evil demon Zernebock tear me limb from limb, if I

leave my own cell ere I have spun out the hemp on my distaff!"

"Answer it to our lord, then, old housefiend," said the man, and

retired; leaving Rebecca in company with the old woman, upon whose

presence she had been thus unwillingly forced.

"What devil's deed have they now in the wind?" said the old hag,

murmuring to herself, yet from time to time casting a sidelong and

malignant glance at Rebecca; "but it is easy to guess--Bright eyes,

black locks, and a skin like paper, ere the priest stains it with his

black unguent--Ay, it is easy to guess why they send her to this lone

turret, whence a shriek could no more be heard than at the depth of

five hundred fathoms beneath the earth.--Thou wilt have owls for thy

neighbours, fair one; and their screams will be heard as far, and as

much regarded, as thine own. Outlandish, too," she said, marking the

dress and turban of Rebecca--"What country art thou of?--a Saracen?

or an Egyptian?--Why dost not answer?--thou canst weep, canst thou not

speak?"