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- Стр. 86/364
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Rowena
had
no
sooner
beheld
him
than
she
uttered
a
faint
shriek
;
but
at
once
summoning
up
the
energy
of
her
disposition
,
and
compelling
herself
,
as
it
were
,
to
proceed
,
while
her
frame
yet
trembled
with
the
violence
of
sudden
emotion
,
she
placed
upon
the
drooping
head
of
the
victor
the
splendid
chaplet
which
was
the
destined
reward
of
the
day
,
and
pronounced
,
in
a
clear
and
distinct
tone
,
these
words
:
"
I
bestow
on
thee
this
chaplet
,
Sir
Knight
,
as
the
meed
of
valour
assigned
to
this
day
's
victor
:
"
Here
she
paused
a
moment
,
and
then
firmly
added
,
"
And
upon
brows
more
worthy
could
a
wreath
of
chivalry
never
be
placed
!
"
The
knight
stooped
his
head
,
and
kissed
the
hand
of
the
lovely
Sovereign
by
whom
his
valour
had
been
rewarded
;
and
then
,
sinking
yet
farther
forward
,
lay
prostrate
at
her
feet
.
There
was
a
general
consternation
.
Cedric
,
who
had
been
struck
mute
by
the
sudden
appearance
of
his
banished
son
,
now
rushed
forward
,
as
if
to
separate
him
from
Rowena
But
this
had
been
already
accomplished
by
the
marshals
of
the
field
,
who
,
guessing
the
cause
of
Ivanhoe
's
swoon
,
had
hastened
to
undo
his
armour
,
and
found
that
the
head
of
a
lance
had
penetrated
his
breastplate
,
and
inflicted
a
wound
in
his
side
.
"
Heroes
,
approach
!
"
Atrides
thus
aloud
,
"
Stand
forth
distinguish
'd
from
the
circling
crowd
,
Ye
who
by
skill
or
manly
force
may
claim
,
Your
rivals
to
surpass
and
merit
fame
.
This
cow
,
worth
twenty
oxen
,
is
decreed
,
For
him
who
farthest
sends
the
winged
reed
.
"
