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Updated: May 14, 2025
"Give me an example of your meaning, Wamba, I know nothing of ciphers or rates of usage," answered the Knight.
Too sudden an appearance would subject me to dangers, other than my lance and sword, though backed by the bow of bold Robin, or the quarter-staff of Friar Tuck, and the horn of the sage Wamba, may be able to rescue me from."
After a day's fighting, Gurth and Wamba used to pick the arrows out of their intrepid master's coat-of-mail, as if they had been so many almonds in a pudding.
"Gramercy for thy sack," said Wamba; "but think'st thou it is lawful for me to aid you to transmew thyself from a holy hermit into a sinful forester?" "Never fear," said the hermit; "I will but confess the sins of my green cloak to my greyfriar's frock, and all shall be well again."
"What is the meaning of all this," said he, "or who is it that rifle, and ransom, and make prisoners, in these forests?" "You may look at their cassocks close by," said Wamba, "and see whether they be thy children's coats or no for they are as like thine own, as one green pea-cod is to another."
To the teachings of an old man, who in secret worshipped the true God, Elvira owed the first lessons she got of Christianity; and once the good seed was sown, it multiplied. Wamba did not know that his daughter was a Christian; but he knew that she was very good, and that for her goodness she was very much beloved by all his subjects.
But he was not base enough to murder the good old man to whom he owed his greatness. It was enough if he could make him incapable of reigning,—as Wamba had done with Paul. To accomplish this he gave the king a sleeping potion, and while he was under its influence had him tonsured,—that is, had the crown of his head shaved.
Speak out, ye Saxon dogs what bid ye for your worthless lives? How say you, you of Rotherwood?" "Not a doit I," answered poor Wamba "and for hanging up by the feet, my brain has been topsy-turvy, they say, ever since the biggin was bound first round my head; so turning me upside down may peradventure restore it again." "Saint Genevieve!" said Front-de-Boeuf, "what have we got here?"
When Thierry discovered the secret of our national development in the remarks of Wamba the Witless to Gurth, under the Sherwood oaks, he applied to us a formula familiar to his countrymen; and Guizot always defined French history as a perpetual struggle between hostile nations until the eighteenth century made good the wrong that was done in the fifth.
But Wamba passed the remainder of his days in a monastery near Burgos, and the ambitious Ervigius reigned as his successor. The Visigoth kingdom, which had stood for three centuries, had passed its meridian. It had created a magnificent background for historic Spain, and a heritage which would be the pride and glory of the proudest nation in Europe.
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