Ivanhoe, Walter Scott [philippa perry book .txt] 📗

“Now may God avert such a calamity!” said the Preceptor.

“Amen,” said the Grand Master, with solemnity, “but we must deserve his aid. I tell thee, Conrade, that neither the powers in Heaven, nor the powers on earth, will longer endure the wickedness of this generation⁠—My intelligence is sure⁠—the ground on which our fabric is reared is already undermined, and each addition we make to the structure of our greatness will only sink it the sooner in the abyss. We must retrace our steps, and show ourselves the faithful Champions of the Cross, sacrificing to our calling, not alone our blood and our lives⁠—not alone our lusts and our vices⁠—but our ease, our comforts, and our natural affections, and act as men convinced that many a pleasure which may be lawful to others, is forbidden to the vowed soldier of the Temple.”

At this moment a squire, clothed in a threadbare vestment, (for the aspirants after this holy Order wore during their noviciate the cast-off garments of the knights,) entered the garden, and, bowing profoundly before the Grand Master, stood silent, awaiting his permission ere he presumed to tell his errand.

“Is it not more seemly,” said the Grand Master, “to see this Damian, clothed in the garments of Christian humility, thus appear with reverend silence before his Superior, than but two days since, when the fond fool was decked in a painted coat, and jangling as pert and as proud as any popinjay?⁠—Speak, Damian, we permit thee⁠—What is thine errand?”

“A Jew stands without the gate, noble and reverend father,” said the Squire, “who prays to speak with brother Brian de Bois-Guilbert.”

“Thou wert right to give me knowledge of it,” said the Grand Master; “in our presence a Preceptor is but as a common compeer of our Order, who may not walk according to his own will, but to that of his Master⁠—even according to the text, ‘In the hearing of the ear he hath obeyed me.’⁠—It imports us especially to know of this Bois-Guilbert’s proceedings,” said he, turning to his companion.

“Report speaks him brave and valiant,” said Conrade.

“And truly is he so spoken of,” said the Grand Master; “in our valour only we are not degenerated from our predecessors, the heroes of the Cross. But brother Brian came into our Order a moody and disappointed man, stirred, I doubt me, to take our vows and to renounce the world, not in sincerity of soul, but as one whom some touch of light discontent had driven into penitence. Since then, he hath become an active and earnest agitator, a murmurer, and a machinator, and a leader amongst those who impugn our authority; not considering that the rule is given to the Master even by the symbol of the staff and the rod⁠—the staff to support the infirmities of the weak⁠—the rod to correct the faults of delinquents.⁠—Damian,” he continued, “lead the Jew to our presence.”

The squire departed with a profound reverence, and in a few minutes returned, marshalling in Isaac of York. No naked slave, ushered into the presence of some mighty prince, could approach his judgment-seat with more profound reverence and terror than that with which the Jew drew near to the presence of the Grand Master. When he had approached within the distance of three yards, Beaumanoir made a sign with his staff that he should come no farther. The Jew kneeled down on the earth which he kissed in token of reverence; then rising, stood before the Templars, his hands folded on his bosom, his head bowed on his breast, in all the submission of Oriental slavery.

“Damian,” said the Grand Master, “retire, and have a guard ready to await our sudden call; and suffer no one to enter the garden until we shall leave it.”⁠—The squire bowed and retreated.⁠—“Jew,” continued the haughty old man, “mark me. It suits not our condition to hold with thee long communication, nor do we waste words or time upon anyone. Wherefore be brief in thy answers to what questions I shall ask thee, and let thy words be of truth; for if thy tongue doubles with me, I will have it torn from thy misbelieving jaws.”

The Jew was about to reply, but the Grand Master went on.

“Peace, unbeliever!⁠—not a word in our presence, save in answer to our questions.⁠—What is thy business with our brother Brian de Bois-Guilbert?”

Isaac gasped with terror and uncertainty. To tell his tale might be interpreted into scandalizing the Order; yet, unless he told it, what hope could he have of achieving his daughter’s deliverance? Beaumanoir saw his mortal apprehension, and condescended to give him some assurance.

“Fear nothing,” he said, “for thy wretched person, Jew, so thou dealest uprightly in this matter. I demand again to know from thee thy business with Brian de Bois-Guilbert?”

“I am bearer of a letter,” stammered out the Jew, “so please your reverend valour, to that good knight, from Prior Aymer of the Abbey of Jorvaulx.”

“Said I not these were evil times, Conrade?” said the Master. “A Cistertian Prior sends a letter to a soldier of the Temple, and can find no more fitting messenger than an unbelieving Jew.⁠—Give me the letter.”

The Jew, with trembling hands, undid the folds of his Armenian cap, in which he had deposited the Prior’s tablets for the greater security, and was about to approach, with hand extended and body crouched, to place it within the reach of his grim interrogator.

“Back, dog!” said the Grand Master; “I touch not misbelievers, save with the sword.⁠—Conrade, take thou the letter from the Jew, and give it to me.”

Beaumanoir, being thus possessed of the tablets, inspected the outside carefully, and then proceeded to undo the packthread which secured its folds. “Reverend father,” said Conrade, interposing, though with much deference, “wilt thou break the seal?”

“And will I not?” said Beaumanoir, with a frown. “Is it not written in the forty-second capital, De Lectione Literarum that a Templar shall not receive a letter, no not from his father, without communicating the