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"
Rebecca
,
"
he
replied
,
"
thou
knowest
not
how
impossible
it
is
for
one
trained
to
actions
of
chivalry
to
remain
passive
as
a
priest
,
or
a
woman
,
when
they
are
acting
deeds
of
honour
around
him
.
The
love
of
battle
is
the
food
upon
which
we
live
--
the
dust
of
the
melee
is
the
breath
of
our
nostrils
!
We
live
not
--
we
wish
not
to
live
--
longer
than
while
we
are
victorious
and
renowned
--
Such
,
maiden
,
are
the
laws
of
chivalry
to
which
we
are
sworn
,
and
to
which
we
offer
all
that
we
hold
dear
.
"
"
Alas
!
"
said
the
fair
Jewess
,
"
and
what
is
it
,
valiant
knight
,
save
an
offering
of
sacrifice
to
a
demon
of
vain
glory
,
and
a
passing
through
the
fire
to
Moloch
?
--
What
remains
to
you
as
the
prize
of
all
the
blood
you
have
spilled
--
of
all
the
travail
and
pain
you
have
endured
--
of
all
the
tears
which
your
deeds
have
caused
,
when
death
hath
broken
the
strong
man
's
spear
,
and
overtaken
the
speed
of
his
war-horse
?
"
"
What
remains
?
"
cried
Ivanhoe
;
"
Glory
,
maiden
,
glory
!
which
gilds
our
sepulchre
and
embalms
our
name
.
"
"
Glory
?
"
continued
Rebecca
;
"
alas
,
is
the
rusted
mail
which
hangs
as
a
hatchment
over
the
champion
's
dim
and
mouldering
tomb
--
is
the
defaced
sculpture
of
the
inscription
which
the
ignorant
monk
can
hardly
read
to
the
enquiring
pilgrim
--
are
these
sufficient
rewards
for
the
sacrifice
of
every
kindly
affection
,
for
a
life
spent
miserably
that
ye
may
make
others
miserable
?
Or
is
there
such
virtue
in
the
rude
rhymes
of
a
wandering
bard
,
that
domestic
love
,
kindly
affection
,
peace
and
happiness
,
are
so
wildly
bartered
,
to
become
the
hero
of
those
ballads
which
vagabond
minstrels
sing
to
drunken
churls
over
their
evening
ale
?
"
"
By
the
soul
of
Hereward
!
"
replied
the
knight
impatiently
,
"
thou
speakest
,
maiden
,
of
thou
knowest
not
what
.
Thou
wouldst
quench
the
pure
light
of
chivalry
,
which
alone
distinguishes
the
noble
from
the
base
,
the
gentle
knight
from
the
churl
and
the
savage
;
which
rates
our
life
far
,
far
beneath
the
pitch
of
our
honour
;
raises
us
victorious
over
pain
,
toil
,
and
suffering
,
and
teaches
us
to
fear
no
evil
but
disgrace
.
Thou
art
no
Christian
,
Rebecca
;
and
to
thee
are
unknown
those
high
feelings
which
swell
the
bosom
of
a
noble
maiden
when
her
lover
hath
done
some
deed
of
emprize
which
sanctions
his
flame
.
Chivalry
!
--
why
,
maiden
,
she
is
the
nurse
of
pure
and
high
affection
--
the
stay
of
the
oppressed
,
the
redresser
of
grievances
,
the
curb
of
the
power
of
the
tyrant
--
Nobility
were
but
an
empty
name
without
her
,
and
liberty
finds
the
best
protection
in
her
lance
and
her
sword
.
"
"
I
am
,
indeed
,
"
said
Rebecca
,
"
sprung
from
a
race
whose
courage
was
distinguished
in
the
defence
of
their
own
land
,
but
who
warred
not
,
even
while
yet
a
nation
,
save
at
the
command
of
the
Deity
,
or
in
defending
their
country
from
oppression
.
The
sound
of
the
trumpet
wakes
Judah
no
longer
,
and
her
despised
children
are
now
but
the
unresisting
victims
of
hostile
and
military
oppression
.
Well
hast
thou
spoken
,
Sir
Knight
,
--
until
the
God
of
Jacob
shall
raise
up
for
his
chosen
people
a
second
Gideon
,
or
a
new
Maccabeus
,
it
ill
beseemeth
the
Jewish
damsel
to
speak
of
battle
or
of
war
.
"
The
high-minded
maiden
concluded
the
argument
in
a
tone
of
sorrow
,
which
deeply
expressed
her
sense
of
the
degradation
of
her
people
,
embittered
perhaps
by
the
idea
that
Ivanhoe
considered
her
as
one
not
entitled
to
interfere
in
a
case
of
honour
,
and
incapable
of
entertaining
or
expressing
sentiments
of
honour
and
generosity
.
"
How
little
he
knows
this
bosom
,
"
she
said
,
"
to
imagine
that
cowardice
or
meanness
of
soul
must
needs
be
its
guests
,
because
I
have
censured
the
fantastic
chivalry
of
the
Nazarenes
!
Would
to
heaven
that
the
shedding
of
mine
own
blood
,
drop
by
drop
,
could
redeem
the
captivity
of
Judah
!
Nay
,
would
to
God
it
could
avail
to
set
free
my
father
,
and
this
his
benefactor
,
from
the
chains
of
the
oppressor
!
The
proud
Christian
should
then
see
whether
the
daughter
of
God
's
chosen
people
dared
not
to
die
as
bravely
as
the
vainest
Nazarene
maiden
,
that
boasts
her
descent
from
some
petty
chieftain
of
the
rude
and
frozen
north
!
"
She
then
looked
towards
the
couch
of
the
wounded
knight
.
