Ivanhoe: A Romance
after a moment’s reflection. “I will give the hoary bigot no advantage
over me; and for Rebecca, she hath not merited at my hand that I should
expose rank and honour for her sake. I will cast her off—yes, I will
leave her to her fate, unless—”
“Qualify not thy wise and necessary resolution,” said Malvoisin; “women
are but the toys which amuse our lighter hours—ambition is the serious
business of life. Perish a thousand such frail baubles as this Jewess,
before thy manly step pause in the brilliant career that lies stretched
before thee! For the present we part, nor must we be seen to hold close
conversation—I must order the hall for his judgment-seat.”
“What!” said Bois-Guilbert, “so soon?”
“Ay,” replied the Preceptor, “trial moves rapidly on when the judge has
determined the sentence beforehand.”
“Rebecca,” said Bois-Guilbert, when he was left alone, “thou art like
to cost me dear—Why cannot I abandon thee to thy fate, as this calm
hypocrite recommends?—One effort will I make to save thee—but beware of
ingratitude! for if I am again repulsed, my vengeance shall equal my
love. The life and honour of Bois-Guilbert must not be hazarded, where
contempt and reproaches are his only reward.”
The Preceptor had hardly given the necessary orders, when he was joined
by Conrade Mont-Fitchet, who acquainted him with the Grand Master’s
resolution to bring the Jewess to instant trial for sorcery.
“It is surely a dream,” said the Preceptor; “we have many Jewish
physicians, and we call them not wizards though they work wonderful
cures.”
“The Grand Master thinks otherwise,” said Mont-Fitchet; “and, Albert, I
will be upright with thee—wizard or not, it were better that this
miserable damsel die, than that Brian de Bois-Guilbert should be lost
to the Order, or the Order divided by internal dissension. Thou knowest
his high rank, his fame in arms—thou knowest the zeal with which many
of our brethren regard him—but all this will not avail him with our
Grand Master, should he consider Brian as the accomplice, not the
victim, of this Jewess. Were the souls of the twelve tribes in her
single body, it were better she suffered alone, than that Bois-Guilbert
were partner in her destruction.”
“I have been working him even now to abandon her,” said Malvoisin; “but
still, are there grounds enough to condemn this Rebecca for
sorcery?—Will not the Grand Master change his mind when he sees that
the proofs are so weak?”
“They must be strengthened, Albert,” replied Mont-Fitchet, “they must
be strengthened. Dost thou understand me?”
“I do,” said the Preceptor, “nor do I scruple to do aught for
advancement of the Order—but there is little time to find engines
fitting.”
“Malvoisin, they MUST be found,” said Conrade; “well will it advantage
both the Order and thee. This Templestowe is a poor Preceptory—that of
Maison-Dieu is worth double its value—thou knowest my interest with our
old Chief—find those who can carry this matter through, and thou art
Preceptor of Maison-Dieu in the fertile Kent—How sayst thou?”
“There is,” replied Malvoisin, “among those who came hither with
Bois-Guilbert, two fellows whom I well know; servants they were to my
brother Philip de Malvoisin, and passed from his service to that of
Front-de-Bœuf—It may be they know something of the witcheries of this
woman.”
“Away, seek them out instantly—and hark thee, if a byzant or two will
sharpen their memory, let them not be wanting.”
“They would swear the mother that bore them a sorceress for a zecchin,”
said the Preceptor.
“Away, then,” said Mont-Fitchet; “at noon the affair will proceed. I
have not seen our senior in such earnest preparation since he condemned
to the stake Hamet Alfagi, a convert who relapsed to the Moslem faith.”
The ponderous castle-bell had tolled the point of noon, when Rebecca
heard a trampling of feet upon the private stair which led to her place
of confinement. The noise announced the arrival of several persons, and
the circumstance rather gave her joy; for she was more afraid of the
solitary visits of the fierce and passionate Bois-Guilbert than of any
evil that could befall her besides. The door of the chamber was
unlocked, and Conrade and the Preceptor Malvoisin entered, attended by
four warders clothed in black, and bearing halberds.
“Daughter of an accursed race!” said the Preceptor, “arise and follow
us.”
“Whither,” said Rebecca, “and for what purpose?”
“Damsel,” answered Conrade, “it is not for thee to question, but to
obey. Nevertheless, be it known to thee, that thou art to be brought
before the tribunal of the Grand Master of our holy Order, there to
answer for thine offences.”
“May the God of Abraham be praised!” said Rebecca, folding her hands
devoutly; “the name of a judge, though an enemy to my people, is to me
as the name of a protector. Most willingly do I follow thee—permit me
only to wrap my veil around my head.”
They descended the stair with slow and solemn step, traversed a long
gallery, and, by a pair of folding doors placed at the end, entered the
great hall in which the Grand Master had for the time established his
court of justice.
The lower part of this ample apartment was filled with squires and
yeomen, who made way not without some difficulty for Rebecca, attended
by the Preceptor and Mont-Fitchet, and followed by the guard of
halberdiers, to move forward to the seat appointed for her. As she
passed through the crowd, her arms folded and her head depressed, a
scrap of paper was thrust into her hand, which she received almost
unconsciously, and continued to hold without examining its contents.
The assurance that she possessed some friend in this awful assembly
gave her courage to look around, and to mark into whose presence she
had been conducted. She gazed, accordingly, upon the scene, which we
shall endeavour to describe in the next chapter.
CHAPTER XXXVII
Stern was the law which bade its vot’ries leave
At human woes with human hearts to grieve;
Stern was the law, which at the winning wile
Of frank and harmless mirth forbade to smile;
But sterner still, when high the iron-rod
Of tyrant power she shook, and call’d that power of God.
THE MIDDLE AGES
The Tribunal, erected for the trial of the innocent and unhappy
Rebecca, occupied the dais or elevated part of the upper end of the
great hall—a platform, which we have already described as the place of
honour, destined to be occupied by the most distinguished inhabitants
or guests of an ancient mansion.
On an elevated seat, directly before the accused, sat the Grand Master
of the Temple, in full and ample robes of flowing white, holding in his
hand the mystic staff, which bore the symbol of the Order. At his feet
was placed a table, occupied by two scribes, chaplains of the Order,
whose duty it was to reduce to formal record the proceedings of the
day. The black dresses, bare scalps, and demure looks of these
church-men, formed a strong contrast to the warlike appearance of the
knights who attended, either as residing in the Preceptory, or as come
thither to attend upon their Grand Master. The Preceptors, of whom
there were four present, occupied seats lower in height, and somewhat
drawn back behind that of their superior; and the knights, who enjoyed
no such rank in the Order, were placed on benches still lower, and
preserving the same distance from the Preceptors as these from the
Grand Master. Behind them, but still upon the dais or elevated portion
of the hall, stood the esquires of the Order, in white dresses of an
inferior quality.
The whole assembly wore an aspect of the most profound gravity; and in
the faces of the knights might be perceived traces of military daring,
united with the solemn carriage becoming men of a religious profession,
and which, in the presence of their Grand Master, failed not to sit
upon every brow.
The remaining and lower part of the hall was filled with guards,
holding partisans, and with other attendants whom curiosity had drawn
thither, to see at once a Grand Master and a Jewish sorceress. By far
the greater part of those inferior persons were, in one rank or other,
connected with the Order, and were accordingly distinguished by their
black dresses. But peasants from the neighbouring country were not
refused admittance; for it was the pride of Beaumanoir to render the
edifying spectacle of the justice which he administered as public as
possible. His large blue eyes seemed to expand as he gazed around the
assembly, and his countenance appeared elated by the conscious dignity,
and imaginary merit, of the part which he was about to perform. A
psalm, which he himself accompanied with a deep mellow voice, which age
had not deprived of its powers, commenced the proceedings of the day;
and the solemn sounds, “Venite exultemus Domino”, so often sung by the
Templars before engaging with earthly adversaries, was judged by Lucas
most appropriate to introduce the approaching triumph, for such he
deemed it, over the powers of darkness. The deep prolonged notes,
raised by a hundred masculine voices accustomed to combine in the
choral chant, arose to the vaulted roof of the hall, and rolled on
amongst its arches with the pleasing yet solemn sound of the rushing of
mighty waters.
When the sounds ceased, the Grand Master glanced his eye slowly around
the circle, and observed that the seat of one of the Preceptors was
vacant. Brian de Bois-Guilbert, by whom it had been occupied, had left
his place, and was now standing near the extreme corner of one of the
benches occupied by the Knights Companions of the Temple, one hand
extending his long mantle, so as in some degree to hide his face; while
the other held his cross-handled sword, with the point of which,
sheathed as it was, he was slowly drawing lines upon the oaken floor.
“Unhappy man!” said the Grand Master, after favouring him with a glance
of compassion. “Thou seest, Conrade, how this holy work distresses him.
To this can the light look of woman, aided by the Prince of the Powers
of this world, bring a valiant and worthy knight!—Seest thou he cannot
look upon us; he cannot look upon her; and who knows by what impulse
from his tormentor his hand forms these cabalistic lines upon the
floor?—It may be our life and safety are thus aimed at; but we spit at
and defy the foul enemy. ‘Semper Leo percutiatur!’”
This was communicated apart to his confidential follower, Conrade
Mont-Fitchet. The Grand Master then raised his voice, and addressed the
assembly.
“Reverend and valiant men, Knights, Preceptors, and Companions of this
Holy Order, my brethren and my children!—you also, well-born and pious
Esquires, who aspire to wear this holy Cross!—and you also, Christian
brethren, of every degree!—Be it known to you, that it is not defect of
power in us which hath occasioned the assembling of this congregation;
for, however unworthy in our person, yet to us is committed, with this
batoon, full power to judge and to try all that regards the weal of
this our Holy Order. Holy Saint Bernard, in the rule of our knightly
and religious profession, hath said, in the fifty-ninth capital, 53
that he would not that brethren be called together in council, save at
the will and command of the Master; leaving it free to us, as to those
more worthy fathers who have preceded us in this our office, to judge,
as well of the occasion as of the time and place in which a chapter of
the whole Order, or of any part thereof, may be convoked. Also, in all
such chapters, it is our duty to hear the advice of our brethren, and
to proceed according to our own pleasure. But when the raging wolf hath
made an inroad upon the flock, and carried off one member thereof, it
is the duty of the kind shepherd to call his comrades together, that