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Read books online » Fiction » Ivanhoe by Walter Scott (world best books to read .TXT) 📖

Book online «Ivanhoe by Walter Scott (world best books to read .TXT) 📖». Author Walter Scott



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brother to

that Philip Malvoisin who has been already occasionally mentioned

in this history, and was, like that baron, in close league with

Brian de Bois-Guilbert.

Amongst dissolute and unprincipled men, of whom the Temple Order

included but too many, Albert of Templestowe might be

distinguished; but with this difference from the audacious

Bois-Guilbert, that he knew how to throw over his vices and his

ambition the veil of hypocrisy, and to assume in his exterior the

fanaticism which he internally despised. Had not the arrival of

the Grand Master been so unexpectedly sudden, he would have seen

nothing at Templestowe which might have appeared to argue any

relaxation of discipline. And, even although surprised, and, to

a certain extent, detected, Albert Malvoisin listened with such

respect and apparent contrition to the rebuke of his Superior,

and made such haste to reform the particulars he censured,

---succeeded, in fine, so well in giving an air of ascetic

devotion to a family which had been lately devoted to license and

pleasure, that Lucas Beaumanoir began to entertain a higher

opinion of the Preceptor’s morals, than the first appearance of

the establishment had inclined him to adopt.

But these favourable sentiments on the part of the Grand Master

were greatly shaken by the intelligence that Albert had received

within a house of religion the Jewish captive, and, as was to be

feared, the paramour of a brother of the Order; and when Albert

appeared before him, he was regarded with unwonted sternness.

“There is in this mansion, dedicated to the purposes of the holy

Order of the Temple,” said the Grand Master, in a severe tone, “a

Jewish woman, brought hither by a brother of religion, by your

connivance, Sir Preceptor.”

Albert Malvoisin was overwhelmed with confusion; for the

unfortunate Rebecca had been confined in a remote and secret part

of the building, and every precaution used to prevent her

residence there from being known. He read in the looks of

Beaumanoir ruin to Bois-Guilbert and to himself, unless he should

be able to avert the impending storm.

“Why are you mute?” continued the Grand Master.

“Is it permitted to me to reply?” answered the Preceptor, in a

tone of the deepest humility, although by the question he only

meant to gain an instant’s space for arranging his ideas.

“Speak, you are permitted,” said the Grand Master---“speak, and

say, knowest thou the capital of our holy rule,---‘De

commilitonibus Templi in sancta civitate, qui cum miserrimis

mulieribus versantur, propter oblectationem carnis?’”*

The edict which he quotes, is against communion with women of light character.

“Surely, most reverend father,” answered the Preceptor, “I have

not risen to this office in the Order, being ignorant of one of

its most important prohibitions.”

“How comes it, then, I demand of thee once more, that thou hast

suffered a brother to bring a paramour, and that paramour a

Jewish sorceress, into this holy place, to the stain and

pollution thereof?”

“A Jewish sorceress!” echoed Albert Malvoisin; “good angels guard

us!”

“Ay, brother, a Jewish sorceress!” said the Grand Master,

sternly. “I have said it. Darest thou deny that this Rebecca,

the daughter of that wretched usurer Isaac of York, and the pupil

of the foul witch Miriam, is now---shame to be thought or spoken!

---lodged within this thy Preceptory?”

“Your wisdom, reverend father,” answered the Preceptor, “hath

rolled away the darkness from my understanding. Much did I

wonder that so good a knight as Brian de Bois-Guilbert seemed so

fondly besotted on the charms of this female, whom I received

into this house merely to place a bar betwixt their growing

intimacy, which else might have been cemented at the expense of

the fall of our valiant and religious brother.”

“Hath nothing, then, as yet passed betwixt them in breach of his

vow?” demanded the Grand Master.

“What! under this roof?” said the Preceptor, crossing himself;

“Saint Magdalene and the ten thousand virgins forbid if I

have sinned in receiving her here, it was in the erring thought

that I might thus break off our brother’s besotted devotion to

this Jewess, which seemed to me so wild and unnatural, that I

could not but ascribe it to some touch of insanity, more to be

cured by pity than reproof. But since your reverend wisdom hath

discovered this Jewish queen to be a sorceress, perchance it may

account fully for his enamoured folly.”

“It doth!---it doth!” said Beaumanoir. “See, brother Conrade,

the peril of yielding to the first devices and blandishments of

Satan! We look upon woman only to gratify the lust of the eye,

and to take pleasure in what men call her beauty; and the Ancient

Enemy, the devouring Lion, obtains power over us, to complete, by

talisman and spell, a work which was begun by idleness and folly.

It may be that our brother Bois-Guilbert does in this matter

deserve rather pity than severe chastisement; rather the support

of the staff, than the strokes of the rod; and that our

admonitions and prayers may turn him from his folly, and restore

him to his brethren.”

“It were deep pity,” said Conrade Mont-Fitchet, “to lose to the

Order one of its best lances, when the Holy Community most

requires the aid of its sons. Three hundred Saracens hath this

Brian de Bois-Guilbert slain with his own hand.”

“The blood of these accursed dogs,” said the Grand Master, “shall

be a sweet and acceptable offering to the saints and angels whom

they despise and blaspheme; and with their aid will we counteract

the spells and charms with which our brother is entwined as in a

net. He shall burst the bands of this Delilah, as Sampson burst

the two new cords with which the Philistines had bound him, and

shall slaughter the infidels, even heaps upon heaps. But

concerning this foul witch, who hath flung her enchantments over

a brother of the Holy Temple, assuredly she shall die the death.”

“But the laws of England,”---said the Preceptor, who, though

delighted that the Grand Master’s resentment, thus fortunately

averted from himself and Bois-Guilbert, had taken another

direction, began now to fear he was carrying it too far.

“The laws of England,” interrupted Beaumanoir, “permit and enjoin

each judge to execute justice within his own jurisdiction. The

most petty baron may arrest, try, and condemn a witch found

within his own domain. And shall that power be denied to the

Grand Master of the Temple within a preceptory of his Order?

---No!---we will judge and condemn. The witch shall be taken out

of the land, and the wickedness thereof shall be forgiven.

Prepare the Castle-hall for the trial of the sorceress.”

Albert Malvoisin bowed and retired,---not to give directions for

preparing the hall, but to seek out Brian de Bois-Guilbert, and

communicate to him how matters were likely to terminate. It was

not long ere he found him, foaming with indignation at a repulse

he had anew sustained from the fair Jewess. “The unthinking,” he

said, “the ungrateful, to scorn him who, amidst blood and flames,

would have saved her life at the risk of his own! By Heaven,

Malvoisin! I abode until roof and rafters crackled and crashed

around me. I was the butt of a hundred arrows; they rattled on

mine armour like hailstones against a latticed casement, and the

only use I made of my shield was for her protection. This did I

endure for her; and now the self-willed girl upbraids me that I

did not leave her to perish, and refuses me not only the

slightest proof of gratitude, but even the most distant hope that

ever she will be brought to grant any. The devil, that possessed

her race with obstinacy, has concentrated its full force in her

single person!”

“The devil,” said the Preceptor, “I think, possessed you both.

How oft have I preached to you caution, if not continence? Did I

not tell you that there were enough willing Christian damsels to

be met with, who would think it sin to refuse so brave a knight

‘le don d’amoureux merci’, and you must needs anchor your

affection on a wilful, obstinate Jewess! By the mass, I think

old Lucas Beaumanoir guesses right, when he maintains she hath

cast a spell over you.”

“Lucas Beaumanoir!”---said Bois-Guilbert reproachfully---“Are

these your precautions, Malvoisin? Hast thou suffered the dotard

to learn that Rebecca is in the Preceptory?”

“How could I help it?” said the Preceptor. “I neglected nothing

that could keep secret your mystery; but it is betrayed, and

whether by the devil or no, the devil only can tell. But I have

turned the matter as I could; you are safe if you renounce

Rebecca. You are pitied---the victim of magical delusion. She

is a sorceress, and must suffer as such.”

“She shall not, by Heaven!” said Bois-Guilbert.

“By Heaven, she must and will!” said Malvoisin. “Neither you nor

any one else can save her. Lucas Beaumanoir hath settled that

the death of a Jewess will be a sin-offering sufficient to atone

for all the amorous indulgences of the Knights Templars; and thou

knowest he hath both the power and will to execute so reasonable

and pious a purpose.”

“Will future ages believe that such stupid bigotry ever existed!”

said Bois-Guilbert, striding up and down the apartment.

“What they may believe, I know not,” said Malvoisin, calmly; “but

I know well, that in this our day, clergy and laymen, take

ninety-nine to the hundred, will cry ‘amen’ to the Grand Master’s

sentence.”

“I have it,” said Bois-Guilbert. “Albert, thou art my friend.

Thou must connive at her escape, Malvoisin, and I will transport

her to some place of greater security and secrecy.”

“I cannot, if I would,” replied the Preceptor; “the mansion is

filled with the attendants of the Grand Master, and others who

are devoted to him. And, to be frank with you, brother, I would

not embark with you in this matter, even if I could hope to bring

my bark to haven. I have risked enough already for your sake. I

have no mind to encounter a sentence of degradation, or even to

lose my Preceptory, for the sake of a painted piece of Jewish

flesh and blood. And you, if you will be guided by my counsel,

will give up this wild-goose chase, and fly your hawk at some

other game. Think, Bois-Guilbert,---thy present rank, thy future

honours, all depend on thy place in the Order. Shouldst thou

adhere perversely to thy passion for this Rebecca, thou wilt give

Beaumanoir the power of expelling thee, and he will not neglect

it. He is jealous of the truncheon which he holds in his

trembling gripe, and he knows thou stretchest thy bold hand

towards it. Doubt not he will ruin thee, if thou affordest him a

pretext so fair as thy protection of a Jewish sorceress. Give

him his scope in this matter, for thou canst not control him.

When the staff is in thine own firm grasp, thou mayest caress the

daughters of Judah, or burn them, as may best suit thine own

humour.”

“Malvoisin,” said Bois-Guilbert, “thou art a cold-blooded---”

“Friend,” said the Preceptor, hastening to fill up the blank, in

which Bois-Guilbert would probably have placed a worse word,

---“a cold-blooded friend I am, and therefore more fit to give

thee advice. I tell thee once more, that thou canst not save

Rebecca. I tell thee once more, thou canst but perish with her.

Go hie thee to the Grand Master---throw thyself at his feet and

tell him---”

“Not at his feet, by Heaven! but to the dotard’s very beard will

I say---”

“Say to him, then, to his beard,” continued Malvoisin, coolly,

“that you love this captive Jewess to distraction; and the more

thou dost enlarge on thy passion,

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