Scene V.
A Place of Palms. The Templar, walking to and fro; a Friar, following him at some distance, as if desirous of addressing him.
TEMPLAR.
It cannot be for pastime that this man
Follows me thus. See how he eyes my hands!
Good brother--or, perhaps I should say, father!
FRIAR.
No, brother; a lay brother, at your service.
TEMPLAR.
Well, brother, then, if I had anything--
But truly I have nothing----
FRIAR.
Thanks the same!
God will reward your purpose thousandfold.
The will and not the deed perfects the giver.
Nor was I sent to follow you for alms.
TEMPLAR.
Sent?
FRIAR.
From the convent.
TEMPLAR.
Where I even now
Was hoping to partake a pilgrim's fare.
FRIAR.
'Tis meal--time now, the tables all are full;
But if it please you, we will turn together.
TEMPLAR.
No matter, though I have not tasted meat
For many days; these dates, you see, are ripe.
FRIAR.
Be sparing of that fruit, sir, for too much
Is hurtful, sours the blood, and makes one sad.
TEMPLAR.
And what if sadness suits me? Though, methinks,
'Twas not to give this warning that you came.
FRIAR.
Oh, no! my mission was to question you--
To feel your pulse a little.
TEMPLAR.
And you tell
This tale yourself?
FRIAR.
Why not?
TEMPLAR.
An artful soul! (aside).
And has the convent many more like you?
FRIAR.
I know not. Mere obedience is my duty.
TEMPLAR.
And you obey without much questioning.
FRIAR.
Could it be rightly termed obedience else?
TEMPLAR.
The simple mind is ever in the right.--(aside).
But will you not inform me who it is
That wishes to know more of me? Not you,
I dare be sworn.
FRIAR.
Would such a wish become
Or profit me?
TEMPLAR.
Whom would it then become
Or profit to be thus inquisitive?
FRIAR.
Perhaps the Patriarch--'twas he that sent.
TEMPLAR.
The Patriarch? and does he know my badge
So ill?--The red cross on the snow-white robe.
FRIAR.
Why? I know that.
TEMPLAR.
Well, brother, hear me out.
I am a Templar--and a prisoner now.
Made captive with some others at Tebnin,
Whose fortress we had almost ta'en by storm
Just as the truce expired. Our hopes had been
To threaten Sidon next. Of twenty knights
Made prisoners there together, I alone
Was pardoned by command of Saladin.
The Patriarch now knows what he requires,
And more than he requires.
FRIAR.
And yet no more
Than he had learned already. He would ask
Why you, of all the captives doomed to die,
Alone were spared?
TEMPLAR.
Can I myself tell that?
Already with bare neck I had knelt down
Upon my mantle, to await the stroke,
When Saladin with steadfast eye surveys me.
Nearer he draws--he makes a sign--they raise me--
I am unbound--I would express my thanks--
I mark the tear-drop glisten in his eye--
We both stand mute--he turns and leaves the spot--
I stay. And now, how all this hangs together,
The Patriarch must explain.
FRIAR.
The Patriarch thinks
That Heaven preserved you for some mighty deed.
TEMPLAR.
Some mighty deed? To rescue from the flames
A Jewish maid! To lead to Sinai's mount
Bands of inquiring pilgrims--and the like!
FRIAR.
The time may come for more important tasks:
Perhaps the Patriarch has already planned
Some mighty business for you.
TEMPLAR.
Think you so?
Has he already given you a hint?
FRIAR.
Yes--but my task is first to sift a little,
To see if you are one to undertake----
TEMPLAR.
Well--sift away? (We'll see how this man sifts).
FRIAR.
The better course will be to name at once
What is the Patriarch's desire.
TEMPLAR.
It is----?
FRIAR.
To make you bearer of a letter.
TEMPLAR.
Me?
I am no carrier. Is that the office
More meritorious than to save from death
A Jewish maid?
FRIAR.
So, truly, it would seem.
The Patriarch says that this little note
Involves the general weal of Christendom,
And that to bear it to its destined hand,
Safely, will merit a peculiar crown
From Heaven--and of that crown, the Patriarch
Says none can worthier be than you.
TEMPLAR.
Than I!
FRIAR.
You have your liberty--can look around;
You understand how cities may be stormed,
And how defended, says the Patriarch;
You know the strength and weakness of the towers,
And of the inner rampart lately reared
By Saladin, and you could point out all
To the Lord's champions fully.
TEMPLAR.
May I know
Exactly the contents of this same letter?
FRIAR.
Of that I am not quite informed myself.
'Tis to King Philip; and our Patriarch--
I often wonder how that holy man,
Whose every thought would seem absorbed by Heaven,
Can stoop to earthly things, and how his mind
Can be so deeply skilled in human lore----
TEMPLAR.
Well, then, your Patriarch----
FRIAR.
Exactly knows
From secret sources, how, and with what force,
And in what quarter, should the war break out,
The foe and Saladin will take the field.
TEMPLAR.
Knows he so much?
FRIAR.
Ay, truly! and he longs
To send the urgent tidings to King Philip,
That he may better calculate if now
The danger be so great, as to demand
At every hazard that he should renew
The truce so boldly broken by the Templars.
TEMPLAR.
The noble Patriarch! He seeks in me
No common herald, but the meanest spy.
Therefore, good brother, tell your Patriarch,
That I am not--as far as you can sift--
The man to suit his ends. I hold myself
A captive still. I know a Templar's duty:
Ready to die, not live to play the spy.
FRIAR.
I thought as much. Nor can I censure you
For your resolve. The best has still to come.
Our Patriarch has learnt the very fort,
Its name, its strength, its site on Lebanon,
Wherein those countless treasures are concealed,
Wherewith the Sultan's prudent father pays
His troops, and all the heavy costs of war.
He knows that Saladin, from time to time,
Visits this fortress, by some secret way,
With but a few attendants.
TEMPLAR.
Well! what then?
FRIAR.
'Twould be an easy task, methinks, to seize
The Sultan thus defenceless--and to end him.
You shudder, knight! Two monks who fear the Lord,
Are ready now to undertake the task,
And wait a leader.
TEMPLAR.
And the Patriarch
Has pitched on me to do this noble deed?
FRIAR.
He thinks King Philip might from Ptolemais
Give aid in the design.
TEMPLAR.
Has pitched on me!
On me!--Say, brother, have you never heard
The boundless debt I owe to Saladin?
FRIAR.
Truly I have.
TEMPLAR.
And yet----
FRIAR.
The Patriarch
Says that is very well; but yet your order,
And vows to God----
TEMPLAR.
Change nothing; they command
No villainy.
FRIAR.
No. But the Patriarch
Says what seems villainy to human eyes,
May not appear so in the sight of God.
TEMPLAR.
Brother, I owe my life to Saladin,
And his shall my hand take?
FRIAR.
Oh, no!--But yet
The Patriarch maintains that Saladin,
Who is the common foe of Christendom,
Can never have a claim to be your friend.
TEMPLAR.
My friend? forsooth! because I will not be
A thankless wretch to him!
FRIAR.
'Tis so!--But yet
The Patriarch thinks gratitude is not
Before the eyes of God or man, a debt,
Unless, for our own sakes, some benefit
Has been conferred; and, says the Patriarch,
It is affirmed the Sultan spared your life
Merely because your voice, your look, your air,
Awoke a recollection of his brother----
TEMPLAR.
He knows all this, and yet?----Ah, were it true!
And, Saladin, could Nature form in me
A single feature in thy brother's likeness,
With nothing in my soul to answer it?
Or what does correspond, shall I belie
To please a Patriarch? No, surely Nature
Could never lie so basely! Nor, kind God,
Couldst thou so contradict Thyself! Go, brother,
And do not rouse my anger.
FRIAR.
I withdraw
More gladly than I came. And, pardon me:
A monk's first duty, sir, is to obey.
Scene VI.--The Templar and Daja.
(She has been watching him from afar and now approaches.)
DAJA.
Methinks the monk left him in no good mood,
But, spite of that, I must my errand risk.
TEMPLAR.
This hits exactly. As the proverb goes,
Women and monks are ever Satan's tools,
And I to-day am subject to them both.
DAJA.
Whom do I see? Thank God, our noble knight.
Where have you been so long? Not ill, I hope?
TEMPLAR.
No.
DAJA.
In good health?
TEMPLAR.
Yes.
DAJA.
We have all been grieved
Lest something should have ailed you. Have you been
Upon a journey?
TEMPLAR.
Fairly guessed.
DAJA.
Since when
Have you returned to us?
TEMPLAR.
Since yesterday.
DAJA.
Our Recha's father, too, is just returned,
And now may Recha hope at last.
TEMPLAR.
For what?
DAJA.
For what she has so often asked in vain.
Her father pressingly invites you too.
He lately has arrived from Babylon
With twenty camels, bearing precious stones,
And stuffs and fragrant spices, which he sought
In India, Persia, Syria, and China.
TEMPLAR.
I am no merchant.
DAJA.
He is much esteemed
By all his nation--honoured as a prince--
And yet to hear how he is named by all
Nathan the Wise, and not the Rich, seems strange.
It often makes me wonder.
TEMPLAR.
But to them
It may be, wise and rich--both mean the same.
DAJA.
It seems to me he should be called the Good,
So rich a store of goodness dwells in him.
Since he has learned the weighty debt he owes
For service done to Recha there is nought
He would withhold from you.
TEMPLAR.
Well?
DAJA.
Try him, sir!
TEMPLAR.
What then? A moment passes soon away.
DAJA.
I had not dwelt with him so many years
Were he less kind. I know a Christian's worth,
And it was never o'er my cradle sung
That I to Palestine should wend my way,
Following a husband's steps, to educate
A Jewish maid. My husband was a page,
A noble page, in Emperor Frederick's court----
TEMPLAR.
By birth a Swiss, who earned the sorry fame
Of drowning in one river with his lord.
Woman! how often have you told this tale?
When will you cease to persecute me thus?
DAJA.
To persecute you!
TEMPLAR.
Ay, to persecute!
Now mark me. I will never see you more,
Hear you, nor be reminded of a deed
Performed at random. When I think of it,
I wonder somewhat, though I ne'er repent.
But hear me still. Should such a fatal chance
Again occur, you have yourself to blame
If I proceed more calmly, question first.
And let what's burning, burn.
DAJA.
Great God forbid!
TEMPLAR.
And now I have a favour to implore.
Know me henceforth no more. Grant me this grace,
And save me from her father; for with me
A Jew's a Jew; a Swabian blunt am I.
The image of the maid is now erased
Out of my soul--if it was ever there.
DAJA.
But yours remains with her.
TEMPLAR.
Well, and what then?
DAJA.
Who knows? Men are not always what they seem.
TEMPLAR.
They're seldom better. (Going.)
DAJA.
Stay a little while.
What need of haste?
TEMPLAR.
Woman! forbear to make
These palm--trees odious: I have loved their shade.
DAJA.
Then go, thou German bear! Yet I must follow him.
(She follow him at a distance.)