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.