Our scene now returns to the exterior of the Castle, or Precep'tory, of Tem'plestowe, about the hour when the bloody die was to be cast for the life or death of Rebecca. A throne was erected for the Grand Master at the east end of the tilt-yard, surrounded with seats of distinction for the Preceptors and Knights of the Order.

At the opposite end of the lists was a pile of fagots, so arranged around a stake, deeply fixed in the ground, as to leave a space for the victim whom they were destined to consume, to enter within the fatal circle in order to be chained to the stake by the fetters which hung ready for the purpose.

The unfortunate Rebecca was conducted to a black chair placed near the pile. On her first glance at the terrible spot where preparations were making for a death alike dismaying to the mind and painful to the body, she was observed to shudder and shut her eyes—praying internally, doubtless, for her lips moved though no speech was heard. In the space of a minute she opened her eyes, looked fixedly on the pile, as if to familiarize her mind with the object, and then slowly and naturally turned away her head.

It was the general belief that no one could or would appear for a Jewess accused of sorcery; and the knights whispered to each other that it was time to declare the pledge of Rebecca forfeited. At that instant a knight, urging his horse to speed, appeared on the plain advancing towards the lists. A hundred voices exclaimed, “A champion! a champion!” And despite the prejudices of the multitude, they shouted unanimously as the knight rode into the tilt-yard.

The second glance, however, served to destroy the hope that his timely arrival had excited. His horse, urged for many miles to its utmost speed, appeared to reel from fatigue; and the rider, however undauntedly he presented himself in the lists, either from weakness, from weariness, or from both combined, seemed scarce able to support himself in the saddle.

To the summons of the herald, who demanded his rank, his name and purpose, the stranger knight answered readily and boldly, “I am a good knight and noble, come hither to uphold with lance and sword the just and lawful quarrel of this damsel, Rebecca, daughter of Isaac of York; to maintain the doom pronounced against her to be false and truthless, and to defy Sir Brian the Templar as a traitor, murderer, and liar; as I will prove in this field with my body against his, by the aid of God, and of Saint George, the good knight.”

“The stranger must first show,” said a Templar, “that he is a good knight, and of honourable lineage. The Temple sendeth not forth her champions against nameless men.”

“My name,” said the knight, raising his helmet, “is better known, my lineage more pure, than thine own. I am Wilfred of Ivanhoe.”

“I will not fight with thee at present,”said the Templar, in a changed and hollow voice. “Get thy wounds healed, purvey thee a better horse, and it may be I will hold it worth my while to scourge out of thee this boyish spirit of bravado.”

“Ha! proud Templar,” said Ivanhoe,“hast thou forgotten that twice thou didst fall before this lance? Remember the lists at A'cre—remember the passage of arms at Ash'by—remember thy proud vaunt in the halls of Roth'erwood, and the gage of your gold chain against my reliquary, that thou wouldst do battle with Wilfred of Ivanhoe, and recover the honour thou hadst lost! By that reliquary, and the holy relic it contains, I will proclaim thee, Templar, a coward in every Court in Europe—unless thou do battle without further delay.”

Sir Brian turned his countenance irresolutely towards Rebecca, and then exclaimed, looking fiercely at Ivanhoe, “Dog of a Saxon! take thy lance, and prepare for the death thou hast drawn upon thee!”

“Does the Grand Master allow me the combat?” said Ivanhoe.

“I may not deny what thou hast challenged,” said the Grand Master, “provided the maiden accept thee as her champion. Yet I would thou wert in better plight to do battle. An enemy of our Order hast thou ever been, yet would I have thee honourably met withal.”

“Thus—thus as I am, and not otherwise,” said Ivanhoe; “it is the judgment of God—to his keeping I commend myself.—Rebecca,” said he, riding up to the fatal chair, “dost thou accept of me for thy champion?”

“I do,” she said, “I do,”—fluttered by an emotion which the fear of death had been unable to produce—“I do accept thee as the champion whom Heaven hath sent me. Yet, no—no; thy wounds are uncured. Meet not that proud man—why shouldst thou perish also?”

But Ivanhoe was already at his post; he had closed his visor and assumed his lance. Sir Brian did the same; and his esquire remarked, as he clasped his visor, that his face—which had, notwithstanding the variety of emotions by which he had been agitated, continued during the whole morning of an ashy paleness—had now become suddenly very much flushed.

The Grand Master, who held in his hand the gage of battle, Rebecca's glove, now threw it into the lists. The trumpets sounded, and the knights charged each other in full career. The weary horse of Ivanhoe, and its no less exhausted rider, went down, as all had expected, before the well-aimed lance and vigorous steed of the Templar. This issue of the combat all had foreseen; but although the spear of Ivanhoe, in comparison, did but touch the shield of Sir Brian, that champion, to the astonishment of all who beheld it, reeled in his saddle, lost his stirrup, and fell in the lists!

Ivanhoe, extricating himself from his fallen horse, was soon on foot, hastening to mend his fortune with his sword; but his antagonist arose not. Wilfred, placing his foot on his breast, and the sword's point to his throat, commanded him to yield him, or die on the spot. The Templar returned no answer.

“Slay him not, Sir Knight,” cried the Grand Master “unshriven and unabsolved—kill not body and soul! We acknowledge him vanquished.”

He descended into the lists, and commanded them to unhelm the conquered champion. His eyes were closed—the dark red flush was still on his brow. As they looked on him in astonishment, the eyes opened—but they were fixed and glazed.The flush passed from his brow, and gave way to the pallid hue of death. Unscathed by the lance of his enemy, he had died a victim to the violence of his own contending passions.

“This is indeed the judgment of God,” said the Grand Master, looking upwards—“Fiat voluntas tua!”

When the first moments of surprise were over, Wilfred of Ivanhoe demanded of the Grand Master, as judge of the field, if he had manfully and rightfully done his duty in the combat?

“Manfully and rightfully hath it been done,” said the Grand Master; “I pronounce the maiden free and guiltless. The arms and the body of the deceased knight are at the will of the victor.”

“I will not despoil him of his weapons,” said the Knight of Ivanhoe, “nor condemn his corpse to shame. God's arm, no human hand, hath this day struck him down. But let his obsequies be private, as becomes those of a man who died in an unjust quarrel.—And for the maiden —”

He was interrupted by the clatter of horses' feet, advancing in such numbers, and so rapidly, as to shake the ground before them; and the Black Knight galloped into the lists. He was followed by a numerous band of men-at-arms, and several knights in complete armour.

“I am too late,” he said, looking around him. “I had doomed Sir Brian for mine own property.—Ivanhoe, was this well, to take on thee such a venture, and thou scarce able to keep thy saddle?”

“Heaven, my liege,” answered Ivanhoe, “hath taken this proud man for its victim. He was not to be honoured in dying as your will had designed.”

“Peace be with him,” said Richard, looking steadfastly on the corpse, “if it may be so—he was a gallant knight, and has died in his steel harness full knightly.”

During the tumult Rebecca saw and heard nothing: she was locked in the arms of her aged father, giddy, and almost senseless, with the rapid change of circumstances around her. But one word from Isaac at length recalled her scattered feelings.

“Let us go,” he said, “my dear daughter, my recovered treasure—let us go to throw ourselves at the feet of the good youth.”

“Not so,” said Rebecca; “oh no—no—no; —I must not at this moment dare to speak to him. Alas! I should say more than—No, my father; let us instantly leave this evil place.”

Isaac, yielding to her entreaties, then conducted her from the lists, and by means of a horse which he had provided, transported her safely to the house of the Rabbi Nathan.

—Sir Walter Scott

Words

antagonist,opponent.

astonishment,surprise.

bravado,boastfulness.

champion,defender.

commend,intrust.

consume,destroy.

demanded,asked.

designed,intended.

destined,appointed.

dismaying,appalling.

distinction,honour.

entreaties,solicitations.

exhausted,wearied.

extricating,disengaging.

familiarize,accustom.

fluttered,agitated.

forfeited,sacrificed.

honourably,worthily.

internally,mentally.

interrupted,checked.

irresolutely,unsteadily.

lineage,descent.

notwithstanding,in spite of.

obsequies,funeral rites.

prejudices,predilections.

proclaim,denounce.

pronounced,proclaimed.

purvey,provide.

transported,conveyed.

unabsolved,unpardoned.

unanimously,with one accord.

undauntedly,valiantly.

unfortunate,luckless.

unscathed,uninsured.

unshriven,not confessed.

vanquished,defeated.

venture,hazard.

vigorous,powerful.

Questions

Where was the combat to take place? Where was the Grand Master position? What was at the opposite end of the lists? What was the general belief? Who at last appeared? Why did the Templar at first decline to fight with him? What fear did Rebecca express? What was the result of the encounter of the knights? What befell the Templar immediately afterwards? What had killed him? What verdict did the Grand Master now give regarding Rebecca? Who presently arrived on the scene? Why was the Black Knight disappointed? Who was this Black Knight? Who had embraced Rebecca? What did he ask her to do? What did she reply?

現在，讓我們將場景返回到城堡的外墻，也就是坦普爾斯托的領地。大約就在這時，麗貝卡將在血腥的死亡之后被判決生或死。在決斗場的最東邊，已經專門為騎士團團長準備好了一張座椅，而周圍也有為教區校長和騎士們準備的不同的座位。

在比武場的另一頭，放著一堆柴火，圍在一根木樁的四周。木樁已經深深地固定在地面之上，為接下來他們注定要審判的受害者留下空間，能夠讓這個人進入到這個最終處決他的圓圈之中。在那里，她將被已經為這個目的而拴在樁上的鏈子勒死。

不幸的麗貝卡被關押在靠近木樁的一個黑色的椅子之上。她朝著這可怕的、會令精神沮喪、令身體痛苦的即將來臨的死亡的地方看了一眼，人們可以觀察到她禁不住的顫抖和緊閉上的雙眼——她的內心在祈禱，毫無疑問，因為她的嘴唇微微地動著，但卻沒有人能聽到任何聲音。在短短一分鐘之后，她睜開了眼睛，目不轉睛地盯著木樁，仿佛要讓她的頭腦熟悉它一樣，然后慢慢地、自然地將頭轉開了。

當時的人們普遍相信，不可能會出現一個人，為一個被指控實施了巫術的猶太女人而決斗；騎士們小聲地互相說話，到了宣布對麗貝卡的指控的時候了。就在那一瞬間，一個騎士策馬疾馳，出現在這片平地之上，來到在座的人群面前。許多人大聲喊道：“騎士！一個騎士！”盡管眾人對他充滿了偏見，當這位騎士沖進比武的院子里時，他們還是一致地喊出聲來。

然而，再看第二眼時，就摧毀了他的及時到來所引發的希望。這個人已經敦促他的馬，用最快的速度飛奔了許多英里，此時它似乎正忍受著疲勞，這個騎馬的人，雖然無畏地出現在眾人面前，也同樣顯得虛弱和疲憊。而這兩者的組合，似乎使他都不能讓自己坐穩在馬鞍上。

傳令官呼喚這位陌生的騎士，要求說出他的頭銜、他的名字與來此的目的。那位騎士立即勇敢地回答道：“我是一個優秀的騎士和貴族，帶著我的槍和劍來到這里，來參與這場公正、合法的對于麗貝卡的審判，她是艾森克·約克的女兒；我來維護對她而言明顯是虛假的、不真實的控告，來控告圣殿騎士布瑞恩爵士是一名叛徒、殺人犯和騙子；我將在這個地方與他相抗衡，用我的身體，在上帝和圣喬治的幫助之下，證明我是好騎士。”

“這個陌生人必須首先證明，”一個圣殿武士說道，“他是一個很好的騎士，擁有尊貴的血統。圣殿騎士從不和無名的人進行戰斗。”

“我的名字，”騎士舉起了他的頭盔，說道，“非常著名，我的血統也比你自己的更加純正，我是艾文荷的威爾弗雷德。”

“目前我還不想與你戰斗，”圣殿騎士用一種和剛才不一樣的空靈的聲音說道。“等你的傷口愈合，找到一匹更好的馬。這段時間，對我來說很有價值，可以滅掉你這虛張聲勢的孩子氣的氣焰。”

“哈！驕傲的圣殿武士，”艾文荷說，“你忘了你曾經兩次倒在這桿槍之下嗎？記得那次決斗嗎？記住那次在阿什比，記得另一次你在羅舍伍德的大廳驕傲地吹牛，你的黃金鏈還有我的圣物作為賭注，你要同艾文荷的威爾弗雷德決斗，來恢復你已經失去的榮譽！這個圣物，和它承載的神圣遺物，圣殿武士，會在歐洲的各個宮廷之中宣布你的懦弱——除非你毫不遲疑地與我決斗。”

布瑞恩爵士遲疑不決地轉向了麗貝卡，然后嚴厲地望著艾文荷，大聲喊道：“撒克森人的走狗！拿起你的槍，準備迎接死亡吧！”

“騎士團團長允許我戰斗了嗎？”艾文荷說道。

“我不否認你所挑戰的，”騎士團團長說著，“因為這個少女接受你作為替她決斗的騎士。然而，我卻希望你在更好的情況下進行決斗。你曾經是我們的敵人，但是我會讓你成就你的榮耀。”

“因此是我，而不是其他人，”艾文荷說，“這是上帝的審判——我接收了他的旨意。麗貝卡，”他說著，走到她坐著的死亡之椅旁，“你接受我做你的騎士嗎？”

“我接受，”她說，“我接受，”她被一種能夠抑制對死亡的恐懼的情緒所激勵，“我接受你來做我的騎士，你是上天派給我的。然而，現在不能——不能，因為你的傷口還沒有痊愈。不要去和那個驕傲的人決斗，你為什么要自取滅亡呢？”

但艾文荷已經站在他的位置上；他已經戴上了他的面罩，拿好了他的槍。布瑞恩爵士也一樣；他的扈從說，他將自己的面罩戴上時，他的臉——盡管他整個早上一直由于多種情緒而變得煩躁，他的臉也因此變得蒼白——現在，他的臉卻突然變得緋紅。

騎士團團長手里拿著決斗的權杖，還有麗貝卡的手套，現在他把它扔到決斗場里。喇叭吹響了，雙方的騎士全速騎馬飛奔向對方。正如所有人預料的一樣，艾文荷疲憊的馬以及馬上這個也同樣勞累的騎士，在圣殿騎士瞄準的槍和生機勃勃的駿馬面前跌落了下來。人們都已經預見到了這場決斗的結果，盡管艾文荷的槍也觸碰到了布瑞恩的盾牌，但相比之下，讓所有在場觀看決斗的人都驚訝的是，這個騎士在他的馬鞍上卻沒有踩住他的馬鐙，跌落在了決斗場上！

艾文荷從他倒下的馬上將自己解脫出來，迅速站起來，急忙拿起他的劍重新進入決斗中，但他的敵手卻沒有過來。威爾弗雷德迅速踢了一腳他的胸膛，并把劍指向他的喉嚨，命令他要么認輸，要么當場死去。圣殿騎士沒有回答。

“不要殺他，騎士先生，”騎士團團長喊道，“赦免他，不要殺死他的身體和靈魂！我們承認他已經被征服了。”

他倒在了決斗場上，并吩咐他們除去被征服的騎士的頭盔。他閉上了眼睛，暗紅色的鮮血仍然在他的額頭上流淌。當人們驚訝地看著他，他睜開了眼睛，但他的眼睛此時卻目不轉睛、炯炯有神。鮮血在他的額頭慢慢褪去，取而代之的是死亡的蒼白色調。沒有死在敵人的槍下，他卻成為死在自己暴力決斗的激情之下的受害者。

“這真是上帝的審判，”騎士團團長說。他抬頭向上看著，說道，“我們將遵照您的旨意！”

當驚喜的第一時刻已經過去，艾文荷的威爾弗雷德向作為該判決的法官的騎士團團長詢問，他是否已經勇敢地、公平地完成了決斗。

“你進行的決斗非常英勇，也很公平，”騎士團團長說道，“我宣布這名少女自由、無罪。得到戰敗騎士的武器和身體，是勝利者的意志。”“我不會搶占他的武器，”騎士艾文荷說，“也不會譴責他的身體的恥辱。今天，是上帝的手，而不是人類的手將他打敗。但讓他的葬禮秘密進行吧，假裝他是在一次不公正的決斗中被殺害。而對這個少女……”

他被一陣馬蹄聲打斷，眾多的馬匹迅速地在他們面前震撼著地面，黑騎士疾馳到決斗場之中。他身后跟著一隊手持武器的士兵，還有幾個全副武裝的騎士。

“我來晚了，”他望向他的周圍說道，“我已經認定布瑞恩爵士是我自己的財產。艾文荷，你冒這樣的風險，而幾乎不能夠停留在自己的馬鞍之上，這樣好嗎？”

“天啊，上帝，”艾文荷回答道，“這個驕傲的人已經被判作了這場決斗的失敗者。他不會按照您設計的方式光榮地死去了。”

“和平將與他同在，”理查德說，目光堅定地望著地上的尸體，“如果是這樣，他是一位勇敢的騎士，而他充滿騎士精神的全副武裝而死。”

在一片喧嘩聲中，麗貝卡什么也看不到、聽不到了。在她年邁的父親的臂膀之中，她幾乎被定格住了，目光暈眩，幾乎毫無知覺，因為她周圍的環境是如此快速地發生了變化。但艾薩克的話，終于讓她從散亂的感覺中蘇醒了過來。

“我們走吧，”他說，“我親愛的女兒，我失而復得的寶貝，讓我們走到這個好青年的面前。”“不，”麗貝卡說；“哦不——不——不——在這一刻，我不敢和他說話。唉！我本應該多說點什么——不，父親，讓我們立即離開這個邪惡的地方吧。”艾薩克聽從了她的懇求，把她從這個決斗場帶走了，并把她放在一匹馬上，安全地帶到了拉比的家中。

——沃爾特·司各特爵士