Ivanhoe, Walter Scott [philippa perry book .txt] 📗

light was procured accordingly, and the robber proceeded to examine the purse. The others crowded around him, and even two who had hold of Gurth relaxed their grasp while they stretched their necks to see the issue of the search. Availing himself of their negligence, by a sudden exertion of strength and activity, Gurth shook himself free of their hold, and might have escaped, could he have resolved to leave his master’s property behind him. But such was no part of his intention. He wrenched a quarterstaff from one of the fellows, struck down the Captain, who was altogether unaware of his purpose, and had well-nigh repossessed himself of the pouch and treasure. The thieves, however, were too nimble for him, and again secured both the bag and the trusty Gurth.

“Knave!” said the Captain, getting up, “thou hast broken my head; and with other men of our sort thou wouldst fare the worse for thy insolence. But thou shalt know thy fate instantly. First let us speak of thy master; the knight’s matters must go before the squire’s, according to the due order of chivalry. Stand thou fast in the meantime⁠—if thou stir again, thou shalt have that will make thee quiet for thy life⁠—Comrades!” he then said, addressing his gang, “this purse is embroidered with Hebrew characters, and I well believe the yeoman’s tale is true. The errant knight, his master, must needs pass us toll-free. He is too like ourselves for us to make booty of him, since dogs should not worry dogs where wolves and foxes are to be found in abundance.”

“Like us?” answered one of the gang; “I should like to hear how that is made good.”

“Why, thou fool,” answered the Captain, “is he not poor and disinherited as we are?⁠—Doth he not win his substance at the sword’s point as we do?⁠—Hath he not beaten Front-de-Boeuf and Malvoisin, even as we would beat them if we could? Is he not the enemy to life and death of Brian de Bois-Guilbert, whom we have so much reason to fear? And were all this otherwise, wouldst thou have us show a worse conscience than an unbeliever, a Hebrew Jew?”

“Nay, that were a shame,” muttered the other fellow; “and yet, when I served in the band of stout old Gandelyn, we had no such scruples of conscience. And this insolent peasant⁠—he too, I warrant me, is to be dismissed scatheless?”

“Not if thou canst scathe him,” replied the Captain.⁠—“Here, fellow,” continued he, addressing Gurth, “canst thou use the staff, that thou starts to it so readily?”

“I think,” said Gurth, “thou shouldst be best able to reply to that question.”

“Nay, by my troth, thou gavest me a round knock,” replied the Captain; “do as much for this fellow, and thou shalt pass scot-free; and if thou dost not⁠—why, by my faith, as thou art such a sturdy knave, I think I must pay thy ransom myself.⁠—Take thy staff, Miller,” he added, “and keep thy head; and do you others let the fellow go, and give him a staff⁠—there is light enough to lay on load by.”

The two champions being alike armed with quarterstaves, stepped forward into the centre of the open space, in order to have the full benefit of the moonlight; the thieves in the meantime laughing, and crying to their comrade, “Miller! beware thy toll-dish.” The Miller, on the other hand, holding his quarterstaff by the middle, and making it flourish round his head after the fashion which the French call faire le moulinet, exclaimed boastfully, “Come on, churl, an thou darest: thou shalt feel the strength of a miller’s thumb!”

“If thou be’st a miller,” answered Gurth, undauntedly, making his weapon play around his head with equal dexterity, “thou art doubly a thief, and I, as a true man, bid thee defiance.”

So saying, the two champions closed together, and for a few minutes they displayed great equality in strength, courage, and skill, intercepting and returning the blows of their adversary with the most rapid dexterity, while, from the continued clatter of their weapons, a person at a distance might have supposed that there were at least six persons engaged on each side. Less obstinate, and even less dangerous combats, have been described in good heroic verse; but that of Gurth and the Miller must remain unsung, for want of a sacred poet to do justice to its eventful progress. Yet, though quarterstaff play be out of date, what we can in prose we will do for these bold champions.

Long they fought equally, until the Miller began to lose temper at finding himself so stoutly opposed, and at hearing the laughter of his companions, who, as usual in such cases, enjoyed his vexation. This was not a state of mind favourable to the noble game of quarterstaff, in which, as in ordinary cudgel-playing, the utmost coolness is requisite; and it gave Gurth, whose temper was steady, though surly, the opportunity of acquiring a decided advantage, in availing himself of which he displayed great mastery.

The Miller pressed furiously forward, dealing blows with either end of his weapon alternately, and striving to come to half-staff distance, while Gurth defended himself against the attack, keeping his hands about a yard asunder, and covering himself by shifting his weapon with great celerity, so as to protect his head and body. Thus did he maintain the defensive, making his eye, foot, and hand keep true time, until, observing his antagonist to lose wind, he darted the staff at his face with his left hand; and, as the Miller endeavoured to parry the thrust, he slid his right hand down to his left, and with the full swing of the weapon struck his opponent on the left side of the head, who instantly measured his length upon the green sward.

“Well and yeomanly done!” shouted the robbers; “fair play and Old England forever! The Saxon hath saved both his purse and his hide, and the Miller has met his match.”

“Thou mayst go