prompt:
Chapter: Arouse the tiger of Hyrcanian deserts,
     Strive with the half-starved lion for his prey;
     Lesser the risk, than rouse the slumbering fire
     Of wild Fanaticism.
     --Anonymus

Our tale now returns to Isaac of York.--Mounted upon a mule, the gift of
the Outlaw, with two tall yeomen to act as his guard and guides, the
Jew had set out for the Preceptory of Templestowe, for the purpose of
negotiating his daughter's redemption. The Preceptory was but a day's
journey from the demolished castle of Torquilstone, and the Jew had
hoped to reach it before nightfall; accordingly, having dismissed his
guides at the verge of the forest, and rewarded them with a piece of
silver, he began to press on with such speed as his weariness permitted
him to exert. But his strength failed him totally ere he had reached
within four miles of the Temple-Court; racking pains shot along his back
and through his limbs, and the excessive anguish which he felt at heart
being now augmented by bodily suffering, he was rendered altogether
incapable of proceeding farther than a small market-town, were dwelt
a Jewish Rabbi of his tribe, eminent in the medical profession, and
to whom Isaac was well known. Nathan Ben Israel received his suffering
countryman with that kindness which the law prescribed, and which the
Jews practised to each other. He insisted on his betaking himself to
repose, and used such remedies as were then in most repute to check the
progress of the fever, which terror, fatigue, ill usage, and sorrow, had
brought upon the poor old Jew.

On the morrow, when Isaac proposed to arise and pursue his journey,
Nathan remonstrated against his purpose, both as his host and as his
physician. It might cost him, he said, his life. But Isaac replied,
that more than life and death depended upon his going that morning to
Templestowe.

"To Templestowe!" said his host with surprise again felt his pulse,
and then muttered to himself, "His fever is abated, yet seems his mind
somewhat alienated and disturbed."

"And why not to Templestowe?" answered his patient. "I grant thee,
Nathan, that it is a dwelling of those to whom the despised Children of
the Promise are a stumbling-block and an abomination; yet thou knowest
that pressing affairs of traffic sometimes carry us among these
bloodthirsty Nazarene soldiers, and that we visit the Preceptories of
the Templars, as well as the Commanderies of the Knights Hospitallers,
as they are called." [48]

"I know it well," said Nathan; "but wottest thou that Lucas de
Beaumanoir, the chief of their Order, and whom they term Grand Master,
is now himself at Templestowe?"

"I know it not," said Isaac; "our last letters from our brethren at
Paris advised us that he was at that city, beseeching Philip for aid
against the Sultan Saladine."

"He hath since come to England, unexpected by his brethren," said Ben
Israel; "and he cometh among them with a strong and outstretched arm to
correct and to punish. His countenance is kindled in anger against those
who have departed from the vow which they have made, and great is the
fear of those sons of Belial. Thou must have heard of his name?"

"It is well known unto me," said Isaac; "the Gentiles deliver this Lucas
Beaumanoir as a man zealous to slaying for every point of the Nazarene
law; and our brethren have termed him a fierce destroyer of the
Saracens, and a cruel tyrant to the Children of the Promise."

"And truly have they termed him," said Nathan the physician. "Other
Templars may be moved from the purpose of their heart by pleasure, or
bribed by promise of gold and silver; but Beaumanoir is of a different
stamp--hating sensuality, despising treasure, and pressing forward to
that which they call the crown of martyrdom--The God of Jacob speedily
send it unto him, and unto them all! Specially hath this proud man
extended his glove over the children of Judah, as holy David over Edom,
holding the murder of a Jew to be an offering of as sweet savour as the
death of a Saracen. Impious and false things has he said even of the
virtues of our medicines, as if they were the devices of Satan--The Lord
rebuke him!"

"Nevertheless," said Isaac, "I must present myself at Templestowe,
though he hath made his face like unto a fiery furnace seven times
heated."

He then explained to Nathan the pressing cause of his journey. The Rabbi
listened with interest, and testified his sympathy after the fashion of
his people, rending his clothes, and saying, "Ah, my daughter!--ah, my
daughter!--Alas! for the beauty of Zion!--Alas! for the captivity of
Israel!"

"Thou seest," said Isaac, "how it stands with me, and that I may not
tarry. Peradventure, the presence of this Lucas Beaumanoir, being the
chief man over them, may turn Brian de Bois-Guilbert from the ill which
he doth meditate, and that he may deliver to me my beloved daughter
Rebecca."

"Go thou," said Nathan Ben Israel, "and be wise, for wisdom availed
Daniel in the den of lions into which he was cast; and may it go well
with thee, even as thine heart wisheth. Yet, if thou canst, keep thee
from the presence of the Grand Master, for to do foul scorn to our
people is his morning and evening delight. It may be if thou couldst
speak with Bois-Guilbert in private, thou shalt the better prevail with
him; for men say that these accursed Nazarenes are not of one mind in
the Preceptory--May their counsels be confounded and brought to shame!
But do thou, brother, return to me as if it were to the house of thy
father, and bring me word how it has sped with thee; and well do I hope
thou wilt bring with thee Rebecca, even the scholar of the wise Miriam,
whose cures the Gentiles slandered as if they had been wrought by
necromancy."

Isaac accordingly bade his friend farewell, and about an hour's riding
brought him before the Preceptory of Templestowe.

This establishment of the Templars was seated amidst fair meadows and
pastures, which the devotion of the former Preceptor had bestowed upon
their Order. It was strong and well fortified, a point never neglected
by these knights, and which the disordered state of England rendered
peculiarly necessary. Two halberdiers, clad in black, guarded the
drawbridge, and others, in the same sad livery, glided to and fro upon
the walls with a funereal pace, resembling spectres more than soldiers.
The inferior officers of the Order were thus dressed, ever since their
use of white garments, similar to those of the knights and esquires, had
given rise to a combination of certain false brethren in the mountains
of Palestine, terming themselves Templars, and bringing great dishonour
on the Order. A knight was now and then seen to cross the court in his
long white cloak, his head depressed on his breast, and his arms folded.
They passed each other, if they chanced to meet, with a slow, solemn,
and mute greeting; for such was the rule of their Order, quoting
thereupon the holy texts, "In many words thou shalt not avoid sin," and
"Life and death are in the power of the tongue." In a word, the
stern ascetic rigour of the Temple discipline, which had been so long
exchanged for prodigal and licentious indulgence, seemed at once to have
revived at Templestowe under the severe eye of Lucas Beaumanoir.

Isaac paused at the gate, to consider how he might seek entrance in the
manner most likely to bespeak favour; for he was well aware, that to his
unhappy race the reviving fanaticism of the Order was not less dangerous
than their unprincipled licentiousness; and that his religion would be
the object of hate and persecution in the one case, as his wealth
would have exposed him in the other to the extortions of unrelenting
oppression.

Meantime Lucas Beaumanoir walked in a small garden belonging to the
Preceptory, included within the precincts of its exterior fortification,
and held sad and confidential communication with a brother of his Order,
who had come in his company from Palestine.

The Grand Master was a man advanced in age, as was testified by his long
grey beard, and the shaggy grey eyebrows overhanging eyes, of which,
however, years had been unable to quench the fire. A formidable warrior,
his thin and severe features retained the soldier's fierceness of
expression; an ascetic bigot, they were no less marked by the emaciation
of abstinence, and the spiritual pride of the self-satisfied devotee.
Yet with these severer traits of physiognomy, there was mixed somewhat
striking and noble, arising, doubtless, from the great part which his
high office called upon him to act among monarchs and princes, and
from the habitual exercise of supreme authority over the valiant and
high-born knights, who were united by the rules of the Order. His
stature was tall, and his gait, undepressed by age and toil, was
erect and stately. His white mantle was shaped with severe regularity,
according to the rule of Saint Bernard himself, being composed of what
was then called Burrel cloth, exactly fitted to the size of the wearer,
and bearing on the left shoulder the octangular cross peculiar to the
Order, formed of red cloth. No vair or ermine decked this garment; but
in respect of his age, the Grand Master, as permitted by the rules, wore
his doublet lined and trimmed with the softest lambskin, dressed with
the wool outwards, which was the nearest approach he could regularly
make to the use of fur, then the greatest luxury of dress. In his hand
he bore that singular "abacus", or staff of office, with which Templars
are usually represented, having at the upper end a round plate, on which
was engraved the cross of the Order, inscribed within a circle or orle,
as heralds term it. His companion, who attended on this great personage,
had nearly the same dress in all respects, but his extreme deference
towards his Superior showed that no other equality subsisted between
them. The Preceptor, for such he was in rank, walked not in a line with
the Grand Master, but just so far behind that Beaumanoir could speak to
him without turning round his head.

"Conrade," said the Grand Master, "dear companion of my battles and my
toils, to thy faithful bosom alone I can confide my sorrows. To thee
alone can I tell how oft, since I came to this kingdom, I have desired
to be dissolved and to be with the just. Not one object in England hath
met mine eye which it could rest upon with pleasure, save the tombs of
our brethren, beneath the massive roof of our Temple Church in yonder
proud capital. O, valiant Robert de Ros! did I exclaim internally, as I
gazed upon these good soldiers of the cross, where they lie sculptured
on their sepulchres,--O, worthy William de Mareschal! open your marble
cells, and take to your repose a weary brother, who would rather strive
with a hundred thousand pagans than witness the decay of our Holy
Order!"

"It is but true," answered Conrade Mont-Fitchet; "it is but too true;
and the irregularities of our brethren in England are even more gross
than those in France."

"Because they are more wealthy," answered the Grand Master. "Bear with
me, brother, although I should something vaunt myself. Thou knowest the
life I have led, keeping each point of my Order, striving with devils
embodied and disembodied, striking down the roaring lion, who goeth
about seeking whom he may devour, like a good knight and devout
priest, wheresoever I met with him--even as blessed Saint Bernard hath
prescribed to us in the forty-fifth capital of our rule, 'Ut Leo semper
feriatur'. [49]

"But by the Holy Temple! the zeal which hath devoured my substance and
my life, yea, the very nerves and marrow of my bones; by that very Holy
Temple I swear to thee, that save thyself and some few that still retain
the ancient severity of our Order, I look upon no brethren whom I can
bring my soul to embrace under that holy name. What say our statutes,
and how do our brethren observe them? They should wear no vain or
worldly ornament, no crest upon their helmet, no gold upon stirrup or
bridle-bit; yet who now go pranked out so proudly and so gaily as the
poor soldiers of the Temple? They are forbidden by our statutes to take
one bird by means of another, to shoot beasts with bow or arblast, to
halloo to a hunting-horn, or to spur the horse after game. But now,
at hunting and hawking, and each idle sport of wood and river, who so
prompt as the Templars in all these fond vanities? They are forbidden
to read, save what their Superior permitted, or listen to what is
read, save such holy things as may be recited aloud during the hours of
refaction; but lo! their ears are at the command of idle minstrels, and
their eyes study empty romaunts. They were commanded to extirpate magic
and heresy. Lo! they are charged with studying the accursed cabalistical
secrets of the Jews, and the magic of the Paynim Saracens. Simpleness
of diet was prescribed to them, roots, pottage, gruels, eating flesh
but thrice a-week, because the accustomed feeding on flesh is a
dishonourable corruption of the body; and behold, their tables groan
under delicate fare! Their drink was to be water, and now, to drink like
a Templar, is the boast of each jolly boon companion! This very garden,
filled as it is with curious herbs and trees sent from the Eastern
climes, better becomes the harem of an unbelieving Emir, than the
plot which Christian Monks should devote to raise their homely
pot-herbs.--And O, Conrade! well it were that the relaxation of
discipline stopped even here!--Well thou knowest that we were forbidden
to receive those devout women, who at the beginning were associated
as sisters of our Order, because, saith the forty-sixth chapter, the
Ancient Enemy hath, by female society, withdrawn many from the right
path to paradise. Nay, in the last capital, being, as it were, the
cope-stone which our blessed founder placed on the pure and undefiled
doctrine which he had enjoined, we are prohibited from offering, even to
our sisters and our mothers, the kiss of affection--'ut omnium
mulierum fugiantur oscula'.--I shame to speak--I shame to think--of the
corruptions which have rushed in upon us even like a flood. The souls
of our pure founders, the spirits of Hugh de Payen and Godfrey de Saint
Omer, and of the blessed Seven who first joined in dedicating their
lives to the service of the Temple, are disturbed even in the enjoyment
of paradise itself. I have seen them, Conrade, in the visions of the
night--their sainted eyes shed tears for the sins and follies of their
brethren, and for the foul and shameful luxury in which they wallow.
Beaumanoir, they say, thou slumberest--awake! There is a stain in the
fabric of the Temple, deep and foul as that left by the streaks of
leprosy on the walls of the infected houses of old. [50]

"The soldiers of the Cross, who should shun the glance of a woman as the
eye of a basilisk, live in open sin, not with the females of their own
race only, but with the daughters of the accursed heathen, and more
accursed Jew. Beaumanoir, thou sleepest; up, and avenge our cause!--Slay
the sinners, male and female!--Take to thee the brand of Phineas!--The
vision fled, Conrade, but as I awaked I could still hear the clank of
their mail, and see the waving of their white mantles.--And I will do
according to their word, I WILL purify the fabric of the Temple! and the
unclean stones in which the plague is, I will remove and cast out of the
building."

"Yet bethink thee, reverend father," said Mont-Fitchet, "the stain
hath become engrained by time and consuetude; let thy reformation be
cautious, as it is just and wise."

"No, Mont-Fitchet," answered the stern old man--"it must be sharp
and sudden--the Order is on the crisis of its fate. The sobriety,
self-devotion, and piety of our predecessors, made us powerful
friends--our presumption, our wealth, our luxury, have raised up
against us mighty enemies.--We must cast away these riches, which are
a temptation to princes--we must lay down that presumption, which is
an offence to them--we must reform that license of manners, which is a
scandal to the whole Christian world! Or--mark my words--the Order of
the Temple will be utterly demolished--and the Place thereof shall no
more be known among the nations."

"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 any one.
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
same to the Grand Master, and reading it in his presence?"

He then perused the letter in haste, with an expression of surprise and
horror; read it over again more slowly; then holding it out to Conrade
with one hand, and slightly striking it with the other, exclaimed--"Here
is goodly stuff for one Christian man to write to another, and both
members, and no inconsiderable members, of religious professions! When,"
said he solemnly, and looking upward, "wilt thou come with thy fanners
to purge the thrashing-floor?"

Mont-Fitchet took the letter from his Superior, and was about to peruse
it.

"Read it aloud, Conrade," said the Grand Master,--"and do thou"
(to Isaac) "attend to the purport of it, for we will question thee
concerning it."

Conrade read the letter, which was in these words: "Aymer, by divine
grace, Prior of the Cistertian house of Saint Mary's of Jorvaulx, to
Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert, a Knight of the holy Order of the Temple,
wisheth health, with the bounties of King Bacchus and of my Lady Venus.
Touching our present condition, dear Brother, we are a captive in the
hands of certain lawless and godless men, who have not feared to detain
our person, and put us to ransom; whereby we have also learned of
Front-de-Boeuf's misfortune, and that thou hast escaped with that fair
Jewish sorceress, whose black eyes have bewitched thee. We are heartily
rejoiced of thy safety; nevertheless, we pray thee to be on thy guard in
the matter of this second Witch of Endor; for we are privately assured
that your Great Master, who careth not a bean for cherry cheeks and
black eyes, comes from Normandy to diminish your mirth, and amend your
misdoings. Wherefore we pray you heartily to beware, and to be found
watching, even as the Holy Text hath it, 'Invenientur vigilantes'. And
the wealthy Jew her father, Isaac of York, having prayed of me letters
in his behalf, I gave him these, earnestly advising, and in a sort
entreating, that you do hold the damsel to ransom, seeing he will pay
you from his bags as much as may find fifty damsels upon safer terms,
whereof I trust to have my part when we make merry together, as true
brothers, not forgetting the wine-cup. For what saith the text, 'Vinum
laetificat cor hominis'; and again, 'Rex delectabitur pulchritudine
tua'.

"Till which merry meeting, we wish you farewell. Given from this den of
thieves, about the hour of matins,

"Aymer Pr. S. M. Jorvolciencis.

"'Postscriptum.' Truly your golden chain hath not long abidden with me,
and will now sustain, around the neck of an outlaw deer-stealer, the
whistle wherewith he calleth on his hounds."

"What sayest thou to this, Conrade?" said the Grand Master--"Den of
thieves! and a fit residence is a den of thieves for such a Prior. No
wonder that the hand of God is upon us, and that in the Holy Land we
lose place by place, foot by foot, before the infidels, when we have
such churchmen as this Aymer.--And what meaneth he, I trow, by this
second Witch of Endor?" said he to his confident, something apart.
Conrade was better acquainted (perhaps by practice) with the jargon of
gallantry, than was his Superior; and he expounded the passage which
embarrassed the Grand Master, to be a sort of language used by worldly
men towards those whom they loved 'par amours'; but the explanation did
not satisfy the bigoted Beaumanoir.

"There is more in it than thou dost guess, Conrade; thy simplicity is
no match for this deep abyss of wickedness. This Rebecca of York was a
pupil of that Miriam of whom thou hast heard. Thou shalt hear the Jew
own it even now." Then turning to Isaac, he said aloud, "Thy daughter,
then, is prisoner with Brian de Bois-Guilbert?"

"Ay, reverend valorous sir," stammered poor Isaac, "and whatsoever
ransom a poor man may pay for her deliverance---"

"Peace!" said the Grand Master. "This thy daughter hath practised the
art of healing, hath she not?"

"Ay, gracious sir," answered the Jew, with more confidence; "and knight
and yeoman, squire and vassal, may bless the goodly gift which Heaven
hath assigned to her. Many a one can testify that she hath recovered
them by her art, when every other human aid hath proved vain; but the
blessing of the God of Jacob was upon her."

Beaumanoir turned to Mont-Fitchet with a grim smile. "See, brother,"
he said, "the deceptions of the devouring Enemy! Behold the baits
with which he fishes for souls, giving a poor space of earthly life in
exchange for eternal happiness hereafter. Well said our blessed
rule, 'Semper percutiatur leo vorans'.--Up on the lion! Down with the
destroyer!" said he, shaking aloft his mystic abacus, as if in defiance
of the powers of darkness--"Thy daughter worketh the cures, I doubt
not," thus he went on to address the Jew, "by words and sighs, and
periapts, and other cabalistical mysteries."

"Nay, reverend and brave Knight," answered Isaac, "but in chief measure
by a balsam of marvellous virtue."

"Where had she that secret?" said Beaumanoir.

"It was delivered to her," answered Isaac, reluctantly, "by Miriam, a
sage matron of our tribe."

"Ah, false Jew!" said the Grand Master; "was it not from that same
witch Miriam, the abomination of whose enchantments have been heard of
throughout every Christian land?" exclaimed the Grand Master, crossing
himself. "Her body was burnt at a stake, and her ashes were scattered to
the four winds; and so be it with me and mine Order, if I do not as
much to her pupil, and more also! I will teach her to throw spell and
incantation over the soldiers of the blessed Temple.--There, Damian,
spurn this Jew from the gate--shoot him dead if he oppose or turn again.
With his daughter we will deal as the Christian law and our own high
office warrant."

Poor Isaac was hurried off accordingly, and expelled from the
preceptory; all his entreaties, and even his offers, unheard and
disregarded. He could do not better than return to the house of the
Rabbi, and endeavour, through his means, to learn how his daughter was
to be disposed of. He had hitherto feared for her honour, he was now
to tremble for her life. Meanwhile, the Grand Master ordered to his
presence the Preceptor of Templestowe.

     Say not my art is fraud--all live by seeming.
     The beggar begs with it, and the gay courtier
     Gains land and title, rank and rule, by seeming;
     The clergy scorn it not, and the bold soldier
     Will eke with it his service.--All admit it,
     All practise it; and he who is content
     With showing what he is, shall have small credit
     In church, or camp, or state--So wags the world.
     --Old Play

Albert Malvoisin, President, or, in the language of the Order, Preceptor
of the establishment of Templestowe, was 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?'" [51]

"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!--No! 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, the greater will be his haste to end it by the death of
the fair enchantress; while thou, taken in flagrant delict by the avowal
of a crime contrary to thine oath, canst hope no aid of thy brethren,
and must exchange all thy brilliant visions of ambition and power, to
lift perhaps a mercenary spear in some of the petty quarrels between
Flanders and Burgundy."

"Thou speakest the truth, Malvoisin," said Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 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-Boeuf--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.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Isaac, bearing the letter from the Prior to Brian de Bois-Guilbert, arrives at Templestowe and is brought to the Grand Master, Lucas Beaumanoir. The letter discloses Rebecca's presence at Templestowe and thus casts reflection on Brian de Bois-Guilbert. At the same time its contents condemn Rebecca as a sorceress, "a second witch of Endor." Albert Malvoisin, Preceptor of Templestowe, makes excuses for the Templar, claiming he has been enticed against his will. Meanwhile Bois-Guilbert, finding himself in love with her, has been pressing his suit with Rebecca, only to be repulsed. When Malvoisin reminds him of his ambitions in the order and how his concern with a Jewess is endangering his future, Brian de Bois-Guilbert is torn between two desires. Beaumanoir orders an immediate trial to convict Rebecca as a witch. The Templar seeks a way to help her escape.