Ivanhoe: A Romance
with bows and slings they may quell the invader, according to our
well-known rule, that the lion is ever to be beaten down. We have
therefore summoned to our presence a Jewish woman, by name Rebecca,
daughter of Isaac of York—a woman infamous for sortileges and for
witcheries; whereby she hath maddened the blood, and besotted the
brain, not of a churl, but of a Knight—not of a secular Knight, but of
one devoted to the service of the Holy Temple—not of a Knight
Companion, but of a Preceptor of our Order, first in honour as in
place. Our brother, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, is well known to ourselves,
and to all degrees who now hear me, as a true and zealous champion of
the Cross, by whose arm many deeds of valour have been wrought in the
Holy Land, and the holy places purified from pollution by the blood of
those infidels who defiled them. Neither have our brother’s sagacity
and prudence been less in repute among his brethren than his valour and
discipline; in so much, that knights, both in eastern and western
lands, have named De Bois-Guilbert as one who may well be put in
nomination as successor to this batoon, when it shall please Heaven to
release us from the toil of bearing it. If we were told that such a
man, so honoured, and so honourable, suddenly casting away regard for
his character, his vows, his brethren, and his prospects, had
associated to himself a Jewish damsel, wandered in this lewd company,
through solitary places, defended her person in preference to his own,
and, finally, was so utterly blinded and besotted by his folly, as to
bring her even to one of our own Preceptories, what should we say but
that the noble knight was possessed by some evil demon, or influenced
by some wicked spell?—If we could suppose it otherwise, think not rank,
valour, high repute, or any earthly consideration, should prevent us
from visiting him with punishment, that the evil thing might be
removed, even according to the text, ‘Auferte malum ex vobis’. For
various and heinous are the acts of transgression against the rule of
our blessed Order in this lamentable history.—1st, He hath walked
according to his proper will, contrary to capital 33, ‘Quod nullus
juxta propriam voluntatem incedat’.—2d, He hath held communication with
an excommunicated person, capital 57, ‘Ut fratres non participent cum
excommunicatis’, and therefore hath a portion in ‘Anathema
Maranatha’.—3d, He hath conversed with strange women, contrary to the
capital, ‘Ut fratres non conversantur cum extraneis mulieribus’.—4th,
He hath not avoided, nay, he hath, it is to be feared, solicited the
kiss of woman; by which, saith the last rule of our renowned Order, ‘Ut
fugiantur oscula’, the soldiers of the Cross are brought into a snare.
For which heinous and multiplied guilt, Brian de Bois-Guilbert should
be cut off and cast out from our congregation, were he the right hand
and right eye thereof.”
He paused. A low murmur went through the assembly. Some of the younger
part, who had been inclined to smile at the statute ‘De osculis
fugiendis’, became now grave enough, and anxiously waited what the
Grand Master was next to propose.
“Such,” he said, “and so great should indeed be the punishment of a
Knight Templar, who wilfully offended against the rules of his Order in
such weighty points. But if, by means of charms and of spells, Satan
had obtained dominion over the Knight, perchance because he cast his
eyes too lightly upon a damsel’s beauty, we are then rather to lament
than chastise his backsliding; and, imposing on him only such penance
as may purify him from his iniquity, we are to turn the full edge of
our indignation upon the accursed instrument, which had so well-nigh
occasioned his utter falling away.—Stand forth, therefore, and bear
witness, ye who have witnessed these unhappy doings, that we may judge
of the sum and bearing thereof; and judge whether our justice may be
satisfied with the punishment of this infidel woman, or if we must go
on, with a bleeding heart, to the further proceeding against our
brother.”
Several witnesses were called upon to prove the risks to which
Bois-Guilbert exposed himself in endeavouring to save Rebecca from the
blazing castle, and his neglect of his personal defence in attending to
her safety. The men gave these details with the exaggerations common to
vulgar minds which have been strongly excited by any remarkable event,
and their natural disposition to the marvellous was greatly increased
by the satisfaction which their evidence seemed to afford to the
eminent person for whose information it had been delivered. Thus the
dangers which Bois-Guilbert surmounted, in themselves sufficiently
great, became portentous in their narrative. The devotion of the Knight
to Rebecca’s defence was exaggerated beyond the bounds, not only of
discretion, but even of the most frantic excess of chivalrous zeal; and
his deference to what she said, even although her language was often
severe and upbraiding, was painted as carried to an excess, which, in a
man of his haughty temper, seemed almost preternatural.
The Preceptor of Templestowe was then called on to describe the manner
in which Bois-Guilbert and the Jewess arrived at the Preceptory. The
evidence of Malvoisin was skilfully guarded. But while he apparently
studied to spare the feelings of Bois-Guilbert, he threw in, from time
to time, such hints, as seemed to infer that he laboured under some
temporary alienation of mind, so deeply did he appear to be enamoured
of the damsel whom he brought along with him. With sighs of penitence,
the Preceptor avowed his own contrition for having admitted Rebecca and
her lover within the walls of the Preceptory—“But my defence,” he
concluded, “has been made in my confession to our most reverend father
the Grand Master; he knows my motives were not evil, though my conduct
may have been irregular. Joyfully will I submit to any penance he shall
assign me.”
“Thou hast spoken well, Brother Albert,” said Beaumanoir; “thy motives
were good, since thou didst judge it right to arrest thine erring
brother in his career of precipitate folly. But thy conduct was wrong;
as he that would stop a runaway steed, and seizing by the stirrup
instead of the bridle, receiveth injury himself, instead of
accomplishing his purpose. Thirteen paternosters are assigned by our
pious founder for matins, and nine for vespers; be those services
doubled by thee. Thrice a-week are Templars permitted the use of flesh;
but do thou keep fast for all the seven days. This do for six weeks to
come, and thy penance is accomplished.”
With a hypocritical look of the deepest submission, the Preceptor of
Templestowe bowed to the ground before his Superior, and resumed his
seat.
“Were it not well, brethren,” said the Grand Master, “that we examine
something into the former life and conversation of this woman,
specially that we may discover whether she be one likely to use magical
charms and spells, since the truths which we have heard may well
incline us to suppose, that in this unhappy course our erring brother
has been acted upon by some infernal enticement and delusion?”
Herman of Goodalricke was the Fourth Preceptor present; the other three
were Conrade, Malvoisin, and Bois-Guilbert himself. Herman was an
ancient warrior, whose face was marked with scars inflicted by the
sabre of the Moslemah, and had great rank and consideration among his
brethren. He arose and bowed to the Grand Master, who instantly granted
him license of speech. “I would crave to know, most Reverend Father, of
our valiant brother, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, what he says to these
wondrous accusations, and with what eye he himself now regards his
unhappy intercourse with this Jewish maiden?”
“Brian de Bois-Guilbert,” said the Grand Master, “thou hearest the
question which our Brother of Goodalricke desirest thou shouldst
answer. I command thee to reply to him.”
Bois-Guilbert turned his head towards the Grand Master when thus
addressed, and remained silent.
“He is possessed by a dumb devil,” said the Grand Master. “Avoid thee,
Sathanus!—Speak, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, I conjure thee, by this symbol
of our Holy Order.”
Bois-Guilbert made an effort to suppress his rising scorn and
indignation, the expression of which, he was well aware, would have
little availed him. “Brian de Bois-Guilbert,” he answered, “replies
not, most Reverend Father, to such wild and vague charges. If his
honour be impeached, he will defend it with his body, and with that
sword which has often fought for Christendom.”
“We forgive thee, Brother Brian,” said the Grand Master; “though that
thou hast boasted thy warlike achievements before us, is a glorifying
of thine own deeds, and cometh of the Enemy, who tempteth us to exalt
our own worship. But thou hast our pardon, judging thou speakest less
of thine own suggestion than from the impulse of him whom by Heaven’s
leave, we will quell and drive forth from our assembly.” A glance of
disdain flashed from the dark fierce eyes of Bois-Guilbert, but he made
no reply.—“And now,” pursued the Grand Master, “since our Brother of
Goodalricke’s question has been thus imperfectly answered, pursue we
our quest, brethren, and with our patron’s assistance, we will search
to the bottom this mystery of iniquity.—Let those who have aught to
witness of the life and conversation of this Jewish woman, stand forth
before us.” There was a bustle in the lower part of the hall, and when
the Grand Master enquired the reason, it was replied, there was in the
crowd a bedridden man, whom the prisoner had restored to the perfect
use of his limbs, by a miraculous balsam.
The poor peasant, a Saxon by birth, was dragged forward to the bar,
terrified at the penal consequences which he might have incurred by the
guilt of having been cured of the palsy by a Jewish damsel. Perfectly
cured he certainly was not, for he supported himself forward on
crutches to give evidence. Most unwilling was his testimony, and given
with many tears; but he admitted that two years since, when residing at
York, he was suddenly afflicted with a sore disease, while labouring
for Isaac the rich Jew, in his vocation of a joiner; that he had been
unable to stir from his bed until the remedies applied by Rebecca’s
directions, and especially a warming and spicy-smelling balsam, had in
some degree restored him to the use of his limbs. Moreover, he said,
she had given him a pot of that precious ointment, and furnished him
with a piece of money withal, to return to the house of his father,
near to Templestowe. “And may it please your gracious Reverence,” said
the man, “I cannot think the damsel meant harm by me, though she hath
the ill hap to be a Jewess; for even when I used her remedy, I said the
Pater and the Creed, and it never operated a whit less kindly—”
“Peace, slave,” said the Grand Master, “and begone! It well suits
brutes like thee to be tampering and trinketing with hellish cures, and
to be giving your labour to the sons of mischief. I tell thee, the
fiend can impose diseases for the very purpose of removing them, in
order to bring into credit some diabolical fashion of cure. Hast thou
that unguent of which thou speakest?”
The peasant, fumbling in his bosom with a trembling hand, produced a
small box, bearing some Hebrew characters on the lid, which was, with
most of the audience, a sure proof that the devil had stood apothecary.
Beaumanoir, after crossing himself, took the box into his hand, and,
learned in most of the Eastern tongues, read with ease the motto on the
lid,—“The Lion of the tribe of Judah hath conquered.”
“Strange powers of Sathanas.” said he, “which can convert Scripture
into blasphemy, mingling poison with our necessary food!—Is there no