Disclaimers: This plot, these characters, and a good portion of this text belongs to Sir Walter Scott, may he rest in peace. I simply put in thoughts
Chapter 37 of Ivanhoe, from the point of view of Brian de Bois-Guilbert
'I sit drawing lines in the floor with my sword? I have brought Rebecca, the only woman I ever loved, to her death, and a gruesome death at that. She has no chance of being proven innocent. The Grand Master has already decided that she is guilty. He decided the moment she walked in the door. Why do I not do something?
Speaking of the Devil, here comes the Grand Master now. "Unhappy man!" he cries. He looks at me with "compassion"-- compassion that I have been "bewitched." I have been bewitched—by Rebecca's mere beauty. How can she be so beautiful, and not know it? She must know of her beauty, she must be conscious of it.
Now the Grand Master mutters to Conrade about how I'm possessed. I catch a few words, "…he cannot look upon her…" How very truthfully he speaks. It is true; I cannot bear to even think of what I have done to Rebecca—sweet, dear Rebecca.
The Grand Master now speaks, ""Reverend and valiant men, Knights, Preceptors, and Companions of this Holy Order, my brethren and my children—you also, well-born and pious Esquires, who aspire to wear this holy Cross! —and you also, Christian brethren, of every degree!— Be it known to you, that it is not defect of power in us which hath occasioned the assembling of this congregation; for, however unworthy in our person, yet to us is committed, with this batoon, full power to judge and to try all that regards the weal of this our Holy Order. Holy Saint Bernard, in the rule of our knightly and religious profession, hath said, in the fifty-ninth capital,that he would not that brethren be called together in council, save at the will and command of the Master; leaving it free to us, as to those more worthy fathers who have preceded us in this our office, to judge, as well of the occasion as of the time and place in which a chapter of the whole Order, or of any part thereof, may be convoked. Also, in all such chapters, it is our duty to hear the advice of our brethren, and to proceed according to our own pleasure. But when the raging wolf hath made an inroad upon the flock, and carried off one member thereof, it is the duty of the kind shepherd to call his comrades together, that with bows and slings they may quell the invader, according to our well-known rule, that the lion is ever to be beaten down. We have therefore summoned to our presence a Jewish woman, by name Rebecca, daughter of Isaac of York—a woman infamous for sortileges and for witcheries; whereby she hath maddened the blood, and besotted the brain, not of a churl, but of a Knight —not of a secular Knight, but of one devoted to the service of the Holy Temple—not of a Knight Companion, but of a Preceptor of our Order, first in honour as in place. Our brother, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, is well known to ourselves, and to all degrees who now hear me, as a true and zealous champion of the Cross, by whose arm many deeds of valour have been wrought in the Holy Land, and the holy places purified from pollution by the blood of those infidels who defiled them. Neither have our brother's sagacity and prudence been less in repute among his brethren than his valour and discipline; in so much, that knights, both in eastern and western lands, have named De Bois-Guilbert as one who may well be put in nomination as successor to this batoon, when it shall please Heaven to release us from the toil of bearing it. If we were told that such a man, so honoured, and so honourable, suddenly casting away regard for his character, his vows, his brethren, and his prospects, had associated to himself a Jewish damsel, wandered in this lewd company, through solitary places, defended her person in preference to his own, and, finally, was so utterly blinded and besotted by his folly, as to bring her even to one of our own Preceptories, what should we say but that the noble knight was possessed by some evil demon, or influenced by some wicked spell?---If we could suppose it otherwise, think not rank, valour, high repute, or any earthly consideration, should prevent us from visiting him with punishment, that the evil thing might be removed, even according to the text, 'Auferte malum ex vobis'. For various and heinous are the acts of transgression against the rule of our blessed Order in this lamentable history.---1st, He hath walked according to his proper will, contrary to capital 33, 'Quod nullus juxta propriam voluntatem incedat'.---, Second, he hath held communication with an excommunicated person, capital 57, 'Ut fratres non participent cum excommunicatis', and therefore hath a portion in 'Anathema Maranatha'.---Third, He hath conversed with strange women, contrary to the capital, 'Ut fratres non conversantur cum extraneis mulieribus'.---4th, He hath not avoided, nay, he hath, it is to be feared, solicited the kiss of woman; by which, saith the last rule of our renowned Order, 'Ut fugiantur oscula', the soldiers of the Cross are brought into a snare. For which heinous and multiplied guilt, Brian de Bois-Guilbert should be cut off and cast out from our congregation, were he the right hand and right eye thereof."
Why doesn't the windbag cease speaking? Is he not capable of keeping quiet?
"Such," he continued non stop, "and so great should indeed be the punishment of a Knight Templar, who wilfully offended against the rules of his Order in such weighty points. But if, by means of charms and of spells, Satan had obtained dominion over the Knight, perchance because he cast his eyes too lightly upon a damsel's beauty, we are then rather to lament than chastise his backsliding; and, imposing on him only such penance as may purify him from his iniquity, we are to turn the full edge of our indignation upon the accursed instrument, which had so well-nigh occasioned his utter falling away.---Stand forth, therefore, and bear witness, ye who have witnessed these unhappy doings, that we may judge of the sum and bearing thereof; and judge whether our justice may be satisfied with the punishment of this infidel woman, or if we must go on, with a bleeding heart, to the further proceeding against our brother."
Then the Grand Master continued to call up "witnesses" who talked about how I had saved Rebecca from the fire. Why in heaven's name does he care? Someone must have saved that impudent youth who calls himself Ivanhoe, and Rowena, and the Saxon dog Athelstane—did they bewitch others as well?
Oh dear, how these peasants exaggerate the incident so! They talk as though I had reached into Satan's own fires and pulled out Jezebel.
It goes on for awhile and then Herman of Goodalricke speaks.
"I would crave to know, most Reverend Father, of our valiant brother, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, what he says to these wondrous accusations, and with what eye he himself now regards his unhappy intercourse with this Jewish Maiden?"
Why would this make any difference to Herman of Goodalricke?
The Grand Master turns to me and says, "Brian de Bois-Guilbert. Thou hearest the question which our Brother of Goodalricke desirest thou shouldst answer. I command thee to I answer. I command thee to reply to him."
And why should I answer him? Whatever I say will be twisted to be used against Rebecca. I can either condemn her with my words, or condemn her with what the Grand Master decides my words mean.
"He is possessed by a dumb devil," the Grand Master says, twisted the zero words I said to mean as he desirest. The Grand Master and Herman speak awhile. It really not whether I even listen to them.
A poor peasant. That is all they can bring to defend Rebecca. If they would but let me speak without accusations of possession echoing me, I would bring a defense that would baffle Solomon.
The peasant brings out a box. It looks as though it has Hebrew letters on it. I would assume it does, for they hand it to Beaumanoir.
"The Lion of the tribe of Judah hath conquered," he reads.
What can be more wholesome and proving of her innocence than that?
"Strange powers of Sathanas, which can convert Scripture into blasphemy, mingling poison with out necessary food!"
In the name of justice? Is all wish to cry. How can they call this justice? How could this ever be called justice?