s? It is but too well known that the Saxons love not the
Norman race, and who knows what may be the issue, if he break in upon
them when their hearts are irritated by the death of Athelstane,
and their heads heated by the carousal in which they will indulge
themselves? I hold his entrance among them at such a moment most
perilous, and I am resolved to share or avert the danger; which, that I
may the better do, I would crave of thee the use of some palfrey whose
pace may be softer than that of my 'destrier'." [56]

"Surely," said the worthy churchman; "you shall have mine own ambling
jennet, and I would it ambled as easy for your sake as that of the Abbot
of Saint Albans. Yet this will I say for Malkin, for so I call her, that
unless you were to borrow a ride on the juggler's steed that paces a
hornpipe amongst the eggs, you could not go a journey on a creature so
gentle and smooth-paced. I have composed many a homily on her back, to
the edification of my brethren of the convent, and many poor Christian
souls."

"I pray you, reverend father," said Ivanhoe, "let Malkin be got ready
instantly, and bid Gurth attend me with mine arms."

"Nay, but fair sir," said the Prior, "I pray you to remember that Malkin
hath as little skill in arms as her master, and that I warrant not her
enduring the sight or weight of your full panoply. O, Malkin, I
promise you, is a beast of judgment, and will contend against any undue
weight--I did but borrow the 'Fructus Temporum' from the priest of Saint
Bees, and I promise you she would not stir from the gate until I had
exchanged the huge volume for my little breviary."

"Trust me, holy father," said Ivanhoe, "I will not distress her with too
much weight; and if she calls a combat with me, it is odds but she has
the worst."

This reply was made while Gurth was buckling on the Knight's heels a
pair of large gilded spurs, capable of convincing any restive horse that
his best safety lay in being conformable to the will of his rider.

The deep and sharp rowels with which Ivanhoe's heels were now
armed, began to make the worthy Prior repent of his courtesy, and
ejaculate,--"Nay, but fair sir, now I bethink me, my Malkin abideth not
the spur--Better it were that you tarry for the mare of our manciple
down at the Grange, which may be had in little more than an hour, and
cannot but be tractable, in respect that she draweth much of our winter
fire-wood, and eateth no corn."

"I thank you, revere