Ivanhoe: A Romance

CHAPTER XXXIX

O maid, unrelenting and cold as thou art, My bosom is proud as thine own. --Seward

It was in the twilight of the day when her trial, if it could becalled such, had taken place, that a low knock was heard at the doorof Rebecca's prison-chamber. It disturbed not the inmate, who was thenengaged in the evening prayer recommended by her religion, and whichconcluded with a hymn we have ventured thus to translate into English.

When Israel, of the Lord beloved, Out of the land of bondage came, Her father's God before her moved, An awful guide, in smoke and flame. By day, along the astonish'd lands The cloudy pillar glided slow; By night, Arabia's crimson'd sands Return'd the fiery column's glow.

There rose the choral hymn of praise, And trump and timbrel answer'd keen, And Zion's daughters pour'd their lays, With priest's and warrior's voice between. No portents now our foes amaze, Forsaken Israel wanders lone; Our fathers would not know THY ways, And THOU hast left them to their own.

But, present still, though now unseen; When brightly shines the prosperous day, Be thoughts of THEE a cloudy screen To temper the deceitful ray. And oh, when stoops on Judah's path In shade and storm the frequent night, Be THOU, long-suffering, slow to wrath, A burning, and a shining light!

Our harps we left by Babel's streams, The tyrant's jest, the Gentile's scorn; No censer round our altar beams, And mute our timbrel, trump, and horn. But THOU hast said, the blood of goat, The flesh of rams, I will not prize; A contrite heart, and humble thought, Are mine accepted sacrifice.

When the sounds of Rebecca's devotional hymn had died away in silence,the low knock at the door was again renewed. ”Enter,” she said, ”ifthou art a friend; and if a foe, I have not the means of refusing thyentrance.”

”I am,” said Brian de Bois-Guilbert, entering the apartment, ”friend orfoe, Rebecca, as the event of this interview shall make me.”

Alarmed at the sight of this man, whose licentious passion sheconsidered as the root of her misfortunes, Rebecca drew backward witha cautious and alarmed, yet not a timorous demeanour, into the farthestcorner of the apartment, as if determined to retreat as far as shecould, but to stand her ground when retreat became no longer possible.She drew herself into an attitude not of defiance, but of resolution,as one that would avoid provoking assault, yet was resolute to repel it,being offered, to the utmost of her power.

”You have no reason to fear me, Rebecca,” said the Templar; ”or if Imust so qualify my speech, you have at least NOW no reason to fear me.”

”I fear you not, Sir Knight,” replied Rebecca, although her short-drawnbreath seemed to belie the heroism of her accents; ”my trust is strong,and I fear thee not.”

”You have no cause,” answered Bois-Guilbert, gravely; ”my former franticattempts you have not now to dread. Within your call are guards, overwhom I have no authority. They are designed to conduct you to death,Rebecca, yet would not suffer you to be insulted by any one, even by me,were my frenzy--for frenzy it is--to urge me so far.”

”May Heaven be praised!” said the Jewess; ”death is the least of myapprehensions in this den of evil.”

”Ay,” replied the Templar, ”the idea of death is easily received by thecourageous mind, when the road to it is sudden and open. A thrust with alance, a stroke with a sword, were to me little--To you, a spring froma dizzy battlement, a stroke with a sharp poniard, has no terrors,compared with what either thinks disgrace. Mark me--I say this--perhapsmine own sentiments of honour are not less fantastic, Rebecca, thanthine are; but we know alike how to die for them.”

”Unhappy man,” said the Jewess; ”and art thou condemned to expose thylife for principles, of which thy sober judgment does not acknowledgethe solidity? Surely this is a parting with your treasure for that whichis not bread--but deem not so of me. Thy resolution may fluctuate on thewild and changeful billows of human opinion, but mine is anchored on theRock of Ages.”

”Silence, maiden,” answered the Templar; ”such discourse now avails butlittle. Thou art condemned to die not a sudden and easy death, such asmisery chooses, and despair welcomes, but a slow, wretched, protractedcourse of torture, suited to what the diabolical bigotry of these mencalls thy crime.”

”And to whom--if such my fate--to whom do I owe this?” said Rebecca”surely only to him, who, for a most selfish and brutal cause, draggedme hither, and who now, for some unknown purpose of his own, strives toexaggerate the wretched fate to which he exposed me.”

”Think not,” said the Templar, ”that I have so exposed thee; I wouldhave bucklered thee against such danger with my own bosom, as freely asever I exposed it to the shafts which had otherwise reached thy life.”

”Had thy purpose been the honourable protection of the innocent,” saidRebecca, ”I had thanked thee for thy care--as it is, thou hast claimedmerit for it so often, that I tell thee life is worth nothing to me,preserved at the price which thou wouldst exact for it.”

”Truce with thine upbraidings, Rebecca,” said the Templar; ”I have myown cause of grief, and brook not that thy reproaches should add to it.”

”What is thy purpose, then, Sir Knight?” said the Jewess; ”speak itbriefly.--If thou hast aught to do, save to witness the misery thouhast caused, let me know it; and then, if so it please you, leave me tomyself--the step between time and eternity is short but terrible, and Ihave few moments to prepare for it.”

”I perceive, Rebecca,” said Bois-Guilbert, ”that thou dost continue toburden me with the charge of distresses, which most fain would I haveprevented.”

”Sir Knight,” said Rebecca, ”I would avoid reproaches--But what is morecertain than that I owe my death to thine unbridled passion?”

”You err--you err,”--said the Templar, hastily, ”if you impute whatI could neither foresee nor prevent to my purpose or agency.--Could Iguess the unexpected arrival of yon dotard, whom some flashes of franticvalour, and the praises yielded by fools to the stupid self-tormentsof an ascetic, have raised for the present above his own merits, abovecommon sense, above me, and above the hundreds of our Order, who thinkand feel as men free from such silly and fantastic prejudices as are thegrounds of his opinions and actions?”

”Yet,” said Rebecca, ”you sate a judge upon me, innocent--mostinnocent--as you knew me to be--you concurred in my condemnation, and,if I aright understood, are yourself to appear in arms to assert myguilt, and assure my punishment.”

”Thy patience, maiden,” replied the Templar. ”No race knows so well asthine own tribes how to submit to the time, and so to trim their bark asto make advantage even of an adverse wind.”

”Lamented be the hour,” said Rebecca, ”that has taught such art tothe House of Israel! but adversity bends the heart as fire bends thestubborn steel, and those who are no longer their own governors, andthe denizens of their own free independent state, must crouch beforestrangers. It is our curse, Sir Knight, deserved, doubtless, by our ownmisdeeds and those of our fathers; but you--you who boast your freedomas your birthright, how much deeper is your disgrace when you stoop tosoothe the prejudices of others, and that against your own conviction?”

”Your words are bitter, Rebecca,” said Bois-Guilbert, pacing theapartment with impatience, ”but I came not hither to bandy reproacheswith you.--Know that Bois-Guilbert yields not to created man, althoughcircumstances may for a time induce him to alter his plan. His will isthe mountain stream, which may indeed be turned for a little space asideby the rock, but fails not to find its course to the ocean. That scrollwhich warned thee to demand a champion, from whom couldst thou think itcame, if not from Bois-Guilbert? In whom else couldst thou have excitedsuch interest?”

”A brief respite from instant death,” said Rebecca, ”which will littleavail me--was this all thou couldst do for one, on whose head thou hastheaped sorrow, and whom thou hast brought near even to the verge of thetomb?”

”No maiden,” said Bois-Guilbert, ”this was NOT all that I purposed. Hadit not been for the accursed interference of yon fanatical dotard, andthe fool of Goodalricke, who, being a Templar, affects to think andjudge according to the ordinary rules of humanity, the office of theChampion Defender had devolved, not on a Preceptor, but on a Companionof the Order. Then I myself--such was my purpose--had, on the soundingof the trumpet, appeared in the lists as thy champion, disguised indeedin the fashion of a roving knight, who seeks adventures to prove hisshield and spear; and then, let Beaumanoir have chosen not one, but twoor three of the brethren here assembled, I had not doubted to cast themout of the saddle with my single lance. Thus, Rebecca, should thineinnocence have been avouched, and to thine own gratitude would I havetrusted for the reward of my victory.”

”This, Sir Knight,” said Rebecca, ”is but idle boasting--a brag of whatyou would have done had you not found it convenient to do otherwise. Youreceived my glove, and my champion, if a creature so desolate can findone, must encounter your lance in the lists--yet you would assume theair of my friend and protector!”

”Thy friend and protector,” said the Templar, gravely, ”I will yetbe--but mark at what risk, or rather at what certainty, of dishonour;and then blame me not if I make my stipulations, before I offer up allthat I have hitherto held dear, to save the life of a Jewish maiden.”

”Speak,” said Rebecca; ”I understand thee not.”

”Well, then,” said Bois-Guilbert, ”I will speak as freely as everdid doting penitent to his ghostly father, when placed in the trickyconfessional.--Rebecca, if I appear not in these lists I lose fame andrank--lose that which is the breath of my nostrils, the esteem, I mean,in which I am held by my brethren, and the hopes I have of succeeding tothat mighty authority, which is now wielded by the bigoted dotard Lucasde Beaumanoir, but of which I should make a different use. Such is mycertain doom, except I appear in arms against thy cause. Accursed be heof Goodalricke, who baited this trap for me! and doubly accursed Albertde Malvoisin, who withheld me from the resolution I had formed,of hurling back the glove at the face of the superstitious andsuperannuated fool, who listened to a charge so absurd, and against acreature so high in mind, and so lovely in form as thou art!”

”And what now avails rant or flattery?” answered Rebecca. ”Thou hastmade thy choice between causing to be shed the blood of an innocentwoman, or of endangering thine own earthly state and earthly hopes--Whatavails it to reckon together?--thy choice is made.”

”No, Rebecca,” said the knight, in a softer tone, and drawing nearertowards her; ”my choice is NOT made--nay, mark, it is thine to make theelection. If I appear in the lists, I must maintain my name in arms;and if I do so, championed or unchampioned, thou diest by the stake andfaggot, for there lives not the knight who hath coped with me in arms onequal issue, or on terms of vantage, save Richard Coeur-de-Lion, and hisminion of Ivanhoe. Ivanhoe, as thou well knowest, is unable to bearhis corslet, and Richard is in a foreign prison. If I appear, then thoudiest, even although thy charms should instigate some hot-headed youthto enter the lists in thy defence.”

”And what avails repeating this so often?” said Rebecca.

”Much,” replied the Templar; ”for thou must learn to look at thy fate onevery side.”

”Well, then, turn the tapestry,” said the Jewess, ”and let me see theother side.”

”If I appear,” said Bois-Guilbert, ”in the fatal lists, thou diest by aslow and cruel death, in pain such as they say is destined to the guiltyhereafter. But if I appear not, then am I a degraded and dishonouredknight, accused of witchcraft and of communion with infidels--theillustrious name which has grown yet more so under my wearing, becomes ahissing and a reproach. I lose fame, I lose honour, I lose the prospectof such greatness as scarce emperors attain to--I sacrifice mightyambition, I destroy schemes built as high as the mountains with whichheathens say their heaven was once nearly scaled--and yet, Rebecca,” headded, throwing himself at her feet, ”this greatness will I sacrifice,this fame will I renounce, this power will I forego, even now when itis half within my grasp, if thou wilt say, Bois-Guilbert, I receive theefor my lover.”

”Think not of such foolishness, Sir Knight,” answered Rebecca, ”buthasten to the Regent, the Queen Mother, and to Prince John--they cannot,in honour to the English crown, allow of the proceedings of your GrandMaster. So shall you give me protection without sacrifice on your part,or the pretext of requiring any requital from me.”

”With these I deal not,” he continued, holding the train of herrobe--”it is thee only I address; and what can counterbalance thychoice? Bethink thee, were I a fiend, yet death is a worse, and it isdeath who is my rival.”

”I weigh not these evils,” said Rebecca, afraid to provoke the wildknight, yet equally determined neither to endure his passion, nor evenfeign to endure it. ”Be a man, be a Christian! If indeed thy faithrecommends that mercy which rather your tongues than your actionspretend, save me from this dreadful death, without seeking a requitalwhich would change thy magnanimity into base barter.”

”No, damsel!” said the proud Templar, springing up, ”thou shalt not thusimpose on me--if I renounce present fame and future ambition, I renounceit for thy sake, and we will escape in company. Listen to me, Rebecca,”he said, again softening his tone; ”England,--Europe,--is not theworld. There are spheres in which we may act, ample enough even for myambition. We will go to Palestine, where Conrade, Marquis of Montserrat,is my friend--a friend free as myself from the doting scruples whichfetter our free-born reason--rather with Saladin will we leagueourselves, than endure the scorn of the bigots whom we contemn.--I willform new paths to greatness,” he continued, again traversing the roomwith hasty strides--”Europe shall hear the loud step of him she hasdriven from her sons!--Not the millions whom her crusaders send toslaughter, can do so much to defend Palestine--not the sabres of thethousands and ten thousands of Saracens can hew their way so deep intothat land for which nations are striving, as the strength and policy ofme and those brethren, who, in despite of yonder old bigot, will adhereto me in good and evil. Thou shalt be a queen, Rebecca--on Mount Carmelshall we pitch the throne which my valour will gain for you, and I willexchange my long-desired batoon for a sceptre!”

”A dream,” said Rebecca; ”an empty vision of the night, which, were ita waking reality, affects me not. Enough, that the power which thoumightest acquire, I will never share; nor hold I so light of country orreligious faith, as to esteem him who is willing to barter these ties,and cast away the bonds of the Order of which he is a sworn member,in order to gratify an unruly passion for the daughter of anotherpeople.--Put not a price on my deliverance, Sir Knight--sell not a deedof generosity--protect the oppressed for the sake of charity, and notfor a selfish advantage--Go to the throne of England; Richard willlisten to my appeal from these cruel men.”

”Never, Rebecca!” said the Templar, fiercely. ”If I renounce my Order,for thee alone will I renounce it--Ambition shall remain mine, if thourefuse my love; I will not be fooled on all hands.--Stoop my crest toRichard?--ask a boon of that heart of pride?--Never, Rebecca, will Iplace the Order of the Temple at his feet in my person. I may forsakethe Order, I never will degrade or betray it.”

”Now God be gracious to me,” said Rebecca, ”for the succour of man iswell-nigh hopeless!”

”It is indeed,” said the Templar; ”for, proud as thou art, thou hast inme found thy match. If I enter the lists with my spear in rest, thinknot any human consideration shall prevent my putting forth my strength;and think then upon thine own fate--to die the dreadful death of theworst of criminals--to be consumed upon a blazing pile--dispersed to theelements of which our strange forms are so mystically composed--not arelic left of that graceful frame, from which we could say this livedand moved!--Rebecca, it is not in woman to sustain this prospect--thouwilt yield to my suit.”

”Bois-Guilbert,” answered the Jewess, ”thou knowest not the heartof woman, or hast only conversed with those who are lost to her bestfeelings. I tell thee, proud Templar, that not in thy fiercest battleshast thou displayed more of thy vaunted courage, than has been shownby woman when called upon to suffer by affection or duty. I am myself awoman, tenderly nurtured, naturally fearful of danger, and impatientof pain--yet, when we enter those fatal lists, thou to fight and I tosuffer, I feel the strong assurance within me, that my courage shallmount higher than thine. Farewell--I waste no more words on thee; thetime that remains on earth to the daughter of Jacob must be otherwisespent--she must seek the Comforter, who may hide his face from hispeople, but who ever opens his ear to the cry of those who seek him insincerity and in truth.”

”We part then thus?” said the Templar, after a short pause; ”would toHeaven that we had never met, or that thou hadst been noble in birth andChristian in faith!--Nay, by Heaven! when I gaze on thee, and think whenand how we are next to meet, I could even wish myself one of thine owndegraded nation; my hand conversant with ingots and shekels, instead ofspear and shield; my head bent down before each petty noble, and my lookonly terrible to the shivering and bankrupt debtor--this could I wish,Rebecca, to be near to thee in life, and to escape the fearful share Imust have in thy death.”

”Thou hast spoken the Jew,” said Rebecca, ”as the persecution of suchas thou art has made him. Heaven in ire has driven him from his country,but industry has opened to him the only road to power and to influence,which oppression has left unbarred. Read the ancient history of thepeople of God, and tell me if those, by whom Jehovah wrought suchmarvels among the nations, were then a people of misers and ofusurers!--And know, proud knight, we number names amongst us to whichyour boasted northern nobility is as the gourd compared with thecedar--names that ascend far back to those high times when the DivinePresence shook the mercy-seat between the cherubim, and which derivetheir splendour from no earthly prince, but from the awful Voice, whichbade their fathers be nearest of the congregation to the Vision--Suchwere the princes of the House of Jacob.”

Rebecca's colour rose as she boasted the ancient glories of her race,but faded as she added, with at sigh, ”Such WERE the princes of Judah,now such no more!--They are trampled down like the shorn grass, andmixed with the mire of the ways. Yet are there those among them whoshame not such high descent, and of such shall be the daughter of Isaacthe son of Adonikam! Farewell!--I envy not thy blood-won honours--I envynot thy barbarous descent from northern heathens--I envy thee not thyfaith, which is ever in thy mouth, but never in thy heart nor in thypractice.”

”There is a spell on me, by Heaven!” said Bois-Guilbert. ”I almost thinkyon besotted skeleton spoke truth, and that the reluctance with whichI part from thee hath something in it more than is natural.--Faircreature!” he said, approaching near her, but with great respect,--”soyoung, so beautiful, so fearless of death! and yet doomed to die, andwith infamy and agony. Who would not weep for thee?--The tear, that hasbeen a stranger to these eyelids for twenty years, moistens them as Igaze on thee. But it must be--nothing may now save thy life. Thou andI are but the blind instruments of some irresistible fatality, thathurries us along, like goodly vessels driving before the storm, whichare dashed against each other, and so perish. Forgive me, then, and letus part, at least, as friends part. I have assailed thy resolution invain, and mine own is fixed as the adamantine decrees of fate.”

”Thus,” said Rebecca, ”do men throw on fate the issue of their own wildpassions. But I do forgive thee, Bois-Guilbert, though the author of myearly death. There are noble things which cross over thy powerful mind;but it is the garden of the sluggard, and the weeds have rushed up, andconspired to choke the fair and wholesome blossom.”

”Yes,” said the Templar, ”I am, Rebecca, as thou hast spoken me,untaught, untamed--and proud, that, amidst a shoal of empty fools andcrafty bigots, I have retained the preeminent fortitude that places meabove them. I have been a child of battle from my youth upward, highin my views, steady and inflexible in pursuing them. Such must Iremain--proud, inflexible, and unchanging; and of this the world shallhave proof.--But thou forgivest me, Rebecca?”

”As freely as ever victim forgave her executioner.”

”Farewell, then,” said the Templar, and left the apartment.

The Preceptor Albert waited impatiently in an adjacent chamber thereturn of Bois-Guilbert.

”Thou hast tarried long,” he said; ”I have been as if stretched onred-hot iron with very impatience. What if the Grand Master, or his spyConrade, had come hither? I had paid dear for my complaisance.--But whatails thee, brother?--Thy step totters, thy brow is as black as night.Art thou well, Bois-Guilbert?”

”Ay,” answered the Templar, ”as well as the wretch who is doomed to diewithin an hour.--Nay, by the rood, not half so well--for there be thosein such state, who can lay down life like a cast-off garment. By Heaven,Malvoisin, yonder girl hath well-nigh unmanned me. I am half resolved togo to the Grand Master, abjure the Order to his very teeth, and refuseto act the brutality which his tyranny has imposed on me.”

”Thou art mad,” answered Malvoisin; ”thou mayst thus indeed utterly ruinthyself, but canst not even find a chance thereby to save the life ofthis Jewess, which seems so precious in thine eyes. Beaumanoir willname another of the Order to defend his judgment in thy place, and theaccused will as assuredly perish as if thou hadst taken the duty imposedon thee.”

”'Tis false--I will myself take arms in her behalf,” answered theTemplar, haughtily; ”and, should I do so, I think, Malvoisin, that thouknowest not one of the Order, who will keep his saddle before the pointof my lance.”

”Ay, but thou forgettest,” said the wily adviser, ”thou wilt haveneither leisure nor opportunity to execute this mad project. Go to LucasBeaumanoir, and say thou hast renounced thy vow of obedience, and seehow long the despotic old man will leave thee in personal freedom.The words shall scarce have left thy lips, ere thou wilt either be anhundred feet under ground, in the dungeon of the Preceptory, to abidetrial as a recreant knight; or, if his opinion holds concerning thypossession, thou wilt be enjoying straw, darkness, and chains, in somedistant convent cell, stunned with exorcisms, and drenched with holywater, to expel the foul fiend which hath obtained dominion over thee.Thou must to the lists, Brian, or thou art a lost and dishonoured man.”

”I will break forth and fly,” said Bois-Guilbert--”fly to some distantland, to which folly and fanaticism have not yet found their way. Nodrop of the blood of this most excellent creature shall be spilled by mysanction.”

”Thou canst not fly,” said the Preceptor; ”thy ravings have excitedsuspicion, and thou wilt not be permitted to leave the Preceptory. Goand make the essay--present thyself before the gate, and command thebridge to be lowered, and mark what answer thou shalt receive.--Thou aresurprised and offended; but is it not the better for thee? Wert thouto fly, what would ensue but the reversal of thy arms, the dishonour ofthine ancestry, the degradation of thy rank?--Think on it. Whereshall thine old companions in arms hide their heads when Brian deBois-Guilbert, the best lance of the Templars, is proclaimed recreant,amid the hisses of the assembled people? What grief will be at the Courtof France! With what joy will the haughty Richard hear the news, thatthe knight that set him hard in Palestine, and well-nigh darkened hisrenown, has lost fame and honour for a Jewish girl, whom he could noteven save by so costly a sacrifice!”

”Malvoisin,” said the Knight, ”I thank thee--thou hast touched thestring at which my heart most readily thrills!--Come of it what may,recreant shall never be added to the name of Bois-Guilbert. Would toGod, Richard, or any of his vaunting minions of England, would appear inthese lists! But they will be empty--no one will risk to break a lancefor the innocent, the forlorn.”

”The better for thee, if it prove so,” said the Preceptor; ”if nochampion appears, it is not by thy means that this unlucky damsel shalldie, but by the doom of the Grand Master, with whom rests all the blame,and who will count that blame for praise and commendation.”

”True,” said Bois-Guilbert; ”if no champion appears, I am but a partof the pageant, sitting indeed on horseback in the lists, but having nopart in what is to follow.”

”None whatever,” said Malvoisin; ”no more than the armed image of SaintGeorge when it makes part of a procession.”

”Well, I will resume my resolution,” replied the haughty Templar. ”Shehas despised me--repulsed me--reviled me--And wherefore should I offerup for her whatever of estimation I have in the opinion of others?Malvoisin, I will appear in the lists.”

He left the apartment hastily as he uttered these words, and thePreceptor followed, to watch and confirm him in his resolution; for inBois-Guilbert's fame he had himself a strong interest, expecting muchadvantage from his being one day at the head of the Order, not tomention the preferment of which Mont-Fitchet had given him hopes, oncondition he would forward the condemnation of the unfortunate Rebecca.Yet although, in combating his friend's better feelings, he possessedall the advantage which a wily, composed, selfish disposition has overa man agitated by strong and contending passions, it required allMalvoisin's art to keep Bois-Guilbert steady to the purpose he hadprevailed on him to adopt. He was obliged to watch him closelyto prevent his resuming his purpose of flight, to intercept hiscommunication with the Grand Master, lest he should come to an openrupture with his Superior, and to renew, from time to time, the variousarguments by which he endeavoured to show, that, in appearing aschampion on this occasion, Bois-Guilbert, without either accelerating orensuring the fate of Rebecca, would follow the only course by which hecould save himself from degradation and disgrace.