thou too art a traitor,” said Richard, smiling; “a most disobedient traitor; for were not our orders positive, that thou shouldst repose thyself at Saint Botolph’s until thy wound was healed?”
“It is healed,” said Ivanhoe; “it is not of more consequence than the scratch of a bodkin. But why, oh why, noble Prince, will you thus vex the hearts of your faithful servants, and expose your life by lonely journeys and rash adventures, as if it were of no more value than that of a mere knight-errant, who has no interest on earth but what lance and sword may procure him?”
“And Richard Plantagenet,” said the King, “desires no more fame than his good lance and sword may acquire him—and Richard Plantagenet is prouder of achieving an adventure, with only his good sword, and his good arm to speed, than if he led to battle a host of an hundred thousand armed men.”
“But your kingdom, my Liege,” said Ivanhoe, “your kingdom is threatened with dissolution and civil war—your subjects menaced with every species of evil, if deprived of their sovereign in some of those dangers which it is your daily pleasure to incur, and from which you have but this moment narrowly escaped.”
“Ho! ho! my kingdom and my subjects?” answered Richard, impatiently; “I tell thee, Sir Wilfred, the best of them are most willing to repay my follies in kind—For example, my very faithful servant, Wilfred of Ivanhoe, will not obey my positive commands, and yet reads his king a homily, because he does not walk exactly by his advice. Which of us has most reason to upbraid the other?—Yet forgive me, my faithful Wilfred. The time I have spent, and am yet to spend in concealment, is, as I explained to thee at Saint Botolph’s, necessary to give my friends and faithful nobles time to assemble their forces, that when Richard’s return is announced, he should be at the head of such a force as enemies shall