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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Speak, Eustace!" said Sir Reginald, eagerly, and half raising himself; "Sir Bertrand your prisoner? Fairly and honourably? Is it possible?" "Fairly and honourably, to that I testify," said Du Guesclin. "He knelt before you, and defended your pennon longer than I ever thought to see one of his years resist that curtal-axe of mine.
Beside it, as if prompt for defending the regal symbol, lay a mighty curtal-axe, which would have wearied the arm of any other than Coeur de Lion. In an outer partition of the pavilion waited two or three officers of the royal household, depressed, anxious for their master's health, and not less so for their own safety, in case of his decease.
"But whom do I see here?" said Neville, his eyes suddenly resting upon Sir Kenneth. "A traitor," said the King, starting to his feet, and seizing the curtal-axe, which was ever near his bed "a traitor! whom thou shalt see die a traitor's death." And he drew back the weapon as in act to strike.
His opponent magnanimously declined to take advantage of the opportunity thus offered him of finishing the combat by splitting his opponent's skull with his curtal-axe, and, riding back to his starting-place, bent his lance's point to the ground, in token that he would wait until the Count of Eulenschreckenstein was helmeted afresh.
"Name her not and for an instant think not of her," said the King, again straining the curtal-axe in his gripe, until the muscles started above his brawny arm, like cordage formed by the ivy around the limb of an oak. "Not name not think of her!" answered Sir Kenneth, his spirits, stunned as they were by self-depression, beginning to recover their elasticity from this species of controversy.
A scream of rage followed the last thrust; and no wonder: it had penetrated the Rowski's left eye. His blood was trickling through a dozen orifices; he was almost choking in his helmet with loss of breath, and loss of blood, and rage. Gasping with fury, he drew back his horse, flung his great sword at his opponent's head, and once more plunged at him, wielding his curtal-axe.
The oily-tongued barbarian, with his soft voice and his bland smile, asseverating that his only interest in life was to do good and make other people happy, stands out in fine contrast with the blunt, straightforward, and truthful New Englander; and their conversation reminds one of the old story of Coeur-de-Lion with his curtal-axe and Saladin with the blade that cut the silken cushion.
The King was interrupted by Sir Henry Neville, who came, breathless, to say the banner was gone, and there was a pool of blood where the banner-spear lay. "But whom do I see here?" said Neville, his eyes suddenly resting upon Sir Kenneth. "A traitor," said the king, seizing his curtal-axe, "whom thou shalt see die a traitor's death." And he drew back the weapon as in act to strike.
And he lifted up his demi-culverin, or curtal-axe a weapon weighing about thirteen hundredweight and was about to fling it at the intruder's head, when the latter, kneeling gracefully on one knee, said calmly, "It is I, my good liege, Wilfrid of Ivanhoe." "What, Wilfrid my gossip? Art come to see the lion's den?
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