Ivanhoe

A Monk there was, a fayre for the maistrie,

An outrider that loved venerie;

A manly man, to be an Abbot able,

Full many a daintie horse had he in stable:

And whan he rode, men might his bridle hear

Gingeling in a whistling wind as clear,

And eke as loud, as doth the chapell bell,

There as this lord was keeper of the cell.

--Chaucer.

Notwithstanding the occasional exhortation and chiding of his companion,

the noise of the horsemen's feet continuing to approach, Wamba could

not be prevented from lingering occasionally on the road, upon every

pretence which occurred; now catching from the hazel a cluster of

half-ripe nuts, and now turning his head to leer after a cottage maiden

who crossed their path. The horsemen, therefore, soon overtook them on

the road.

Their numbers amounted to ten men, of whom the two who rode foremost

seemed to be persons of considerable importance, and the others

their attendants. It was not difficult to ascertain the condition and

character of one of these personages. He was obviously an ecclesiastic

of high rank; his dress was that of a Cistercian Monk, but composed of

materials much finer than those which the rule of that order admitted.

His mantle and hood were of the best Flanders cloth, and fell in ample,

and not ungraceful folds, around a handsome, though somewhat corpulent

person.

His countenance bore as little the marks of self-denial, as his

habit indicated contempt of worldly splendour. His features might have

been called good, had there not lurked under the pent-house of his eye,

that sly epicurean twinkle which indicates the cautious voluptuary.

In other respects, his profession and situation had taught him a ready

command over his countenance, which he could contract at pleasure into

solemnity, although its natural expression was that of good-humoured

social indulgence. In defiance of conventual rules, and the edicts of

popes and councils, the sleeves of this dignitary were lined and turned

up with rich furs, his mantle secured at the throat with a golden

clasp, and the whole dress proper to his order as much refined upon and

ornamented, as that of a quaker beauty of the present day, who, while

she retains the garb and costume of her sect continues to give to its

simplicity, by the choice of materials and the mode of disposing them,

a certain air of coquettish attraction, savouring but too much of the

vanities of the world.

This worthy churchman rode upon a well-fed ambling mule, whose furniture

was highly decorated, and whose bridle, according to the fashion of the

day, was ornamented with silver bells. In his seat he had nothing of the

awkwardness of the convent, but displayed the easy and habitual grace of

a well-trained horseman. Indeed, it seemed that so humble a conveyance

as a mule, in however good case, and however well broken to a pleasant

and accommodating amble, was only used by the gallant monk for

travelling on the road. A lay brother, one of those who followed in the

train, had, for his use on other occasions, one of the most handsome

Spanish jennets ever bred at Andalusia, which merchants used at that

time to import, with great trouble and risk, for the use of persons of

wealth and distinction. The saddle and housings of this superb palfrey

were covered by a long foot-cloth, which reached nearly to the ground,

and on which were richly embroidered, mitres, crosses, and other

ecclesiastical emblems. Another lay brother led a sumpter mule, loaded

probably with his superior's baggage; and two monks of his own order,

of inferior station, rode together in the rear, laughing and conversing

with each other, without taking much notice of the other members of the

cavalcade.