University of Virginia Library

SCENE LAST.

A level plain, surrounded on all sides by hills, so as to form an amphitheatre. In the back is a rivulet, over which is a low bridge; on either side of the scene are rude seats, rising one above the other: in the middle is a stake, with chains, surrounded with faggots; near it is a black chair; six Saracen slaves stand about it, four of which bear lighted torches: a crowd assembled below; Tuck in front, watching the people: Gurth enters.
Gurth.
What! Friar Tuck.

Tuck.
I answer not to that.

Gurth.
I cry you mercy; you possess, I know,
A wardrobe of good names; and which suits now
Will't please you wear?

Tuck.
Call me Clerk Anselm.

Gurth.
Good!
But what's your bus'ness here?

Tuck.
My curious friend,
That's no part of your bus'ness to inquire.
Howbeit, I care not much an if you know;
I keep a running reck'ning with St. Dunstan,
He scores me up my sins; I score to him,
Per contra, all my virtues: now it haps,
The balance runs most horribly against me;
A round score of wenches kiss'd, as many deer
Kill'd in the moonlight, twice so many cups,
In twice so many days, beyond full measure.
These stand on his page, mine's all white; at best
Some lean-gut virtues written there; whereon
I deem it wise to join this holy work;
The burning of a witch will make all even.

A bell tolls: a Knight enters, bearing the great Standard of the Temple, on which is inscribed, “Le Beau Seant.” Six trumpeters precede, sounding a mournful march; Knights preceptors, two and two, pass over to their seats. The Grand Master follows, carrying in his hand the Abacus, and takes an exalted place among them; the Banner, Le Beau Seant, is fixed behind him, and waves over his head. After him Brian de Bois Guilbert enters, De Bracy at his side, followed immediately by a Herald; these three take their places in the lists below; when all the above-mentioned are on the stage, the trumpets cease, and a Hymn with its Chorus is sung by the Neophites, who enter two by two in black vestments; a guard of Warders follow, in the midst of which Rebecca walks, habited in coarse white garments: She is led to the chair by the stake. Tuck and Gurth mix with the crowd.
[Neophites.]
Chorus.
Hymn.
Chorus.
Hymn.
Chorus.

Grand Master.
Our Temple's champion!

Brian.
Ready to thy hest.

Grand Master.
Ask then the maid if yet she yield her guilty.

Brian goes to Rebecca: Isaac enters, followed by Miriam.
Isaac.
Mir—Miriam.

Miriam.
I am here.

Isaac.
Lend me thine arm.
Look thou, and tell me.

He pauses, unable to speak.
Miriam.
What, dear uncle?

Isaac.
Look:—
How does she bear this trial? Does not fear
Shake her young limbs? a horrid ghastly fear?

Miriam.
I dare not look.

Isaac.
I will—her father will.

Brian returns to his place: De Bracy steps forward, and lays Rebecca's glove at the feet of the Grand Master.
Grand Master.
She doth deny—sound, Herald, for our champion.

Herald sounds the trumpet.
Grand Master.
Again.

Herald sounds a second time.
Grand Master.
Again.

Herald sounds a third time.
Isaac.
Hush, hush! 'tis but the echo's voice,
No trumpet answers for the Hebrew—none!
All that is human leaves us!—All!—all!—all!
Hear me, kind heaven! Hear an old man's pray'r,
Who bites the dust in agony—let these grey locks be death,
And each an agony! I'll die them all
To save my child—or in atonement take
These tears—this broken heart, this bloody sweat,
Which cold, cold anguish wringeth from by brow,
And save my child!

Grand Master.
No champion comes; but yet
My mercy gives thee limit 'till yon clouds
Shall dark the sun; Go, to thy father go;
Bid farewell to the earth, and all of earth.

Rebecca.
Thy blessing be upon me.

Isaac.
Thou image of thy mother!—can it be
That ought so sweet should perish—look down, heav'n,
See how she lies on this cold wither'd heart,
A snow drop on the breast of winter!—Spare
My bud of spring, and let these white snows melt,
If such thy pleasure, into earth again.

Rebecca.
A bitter hour it is! but it will pass,
As others oft have pass'd, of no less woe;
Time will moss o'er my memory, dear father,
And the quick hours, trampling o'er my tomb,
With constant feet wear out my epitaph.

Isaac.
Thy calmness ghasts me? Oh, so look the dead!
So marble calm! So horribly repos'd.

Rebecca.
Grief, like the waters of some chilling fount,
Whose coldness numbs the light woven flower to stone,
Has wrought mysteriously about my heart,
And frozen it to ice.

Grand Master.
No champion comes.

Isaac.
The dark clouds roll—roll—roll—
Be hush'd, ye winds! their edge is on the sun!
Burst, fall in show'rs—look, they pause!—Ah! no—
They shut out light, and with it shut out life!
Why should I live? break, break thou stubborn heart.

The Grand Master gives a sign to the Saracens to seize Rebecca.
Rebecca.
Off, off, tis but a dream! pass—pass away;
What strange and ghastly forms—can I not wake,
Can I not shut thee out? I'll close mine eyes
They'll pass away.

Isaac.
Rebecca!

Grand Master.
To the stake!

Rebecca.
Tis real! oh, forbear! but for a moment.
She clasps her Father's arm.
Hold me dear father! in thine arms I'll die,
Murder me here—I will not shriek, off—off—
Father! They'll slay me—save, oh save thy child!

Isaac.
Stay, hark, a champion comes! I hear the tramp
Of horses on the earth! it nears—and hark—
A trumpet sounds!

De Bracy.
The Jew speaks truth—

Isaac.
Again!
Earth, air, and heaven—hark!
He comes—he's here.

Ivanhoe.
A champion to Rebecca,
Am I too late?

Grand Master.
How!

Brian.
Ivanhoe!

Rebecca.
Thank heaven.

Isaac.
The noble youth! a Sampson to our cause!

Ivanhoe.
Dost license me thy champion?—Speak.

Rebecca.
I do:
Yet no, thy wounds are fresh, thy strength is weak;
Better to die than peril thee.

Isaac.
Behold
Thy father's agony—Rebecca!—child!
See you this furrow'd brow?

Rebecca.
I do—I do
Accept thee for my champion.

Ivanhoe.
You have heard
She takes me for her champion.

Brian.
I'll not fight,
With one thus half himself; go, get thee heal'd;
In fitting time, it may be I will scourge
Thy boyish pride.

Ivanhoe.
Twice beaten, and thus brave!
Do battle to thy pledge; or recreant yield.

Brian.
Dog of a Saxon! arm thee to thy death.

Isaac.
Most merciful! most mighty one!—Be not
His father's sins remember'd in this hour!

The Herald retires from the Lists: The Grand Master flings down Rebecca's glove—Brian and Ivanhoe advance.
Ivanhoe.
Why dost thou droop thy sword?

Brian.
What light was that
Which shot across my face—I am withered—blasted;
I've sin'd against earth and heaven—I die—

Brian reels: his Squire catches him in his arms and unclasps his Helmet.
Isaac.
Lo! heaven's wrath,
The strong one is struck down! though helm and mail
Tremble proud dust! your arms avail ye not,
Pow'r clips ye as the air, felt though unseen.

The Templars lay down their arms.)
Grand Master.
Give freedom to the Jewess. Take, old man,
Thy daughter at our hands.

Isaac.
Where is she?
An unkind mist is gathering between us;
Speak to me let me hear thee.

Rebecca.
Art thou ill,
Dear father?

Isaac.
Give me thy hand!

Rebecca.
'Tis here.

Isaac.
Where?—Where?

Rebecca.
You hold it now.

Ivanhoe.
Fear not my love:
'Tis but the first gush of exceeding joy.

Isaac starts from the arms of those who hold him, and gazes for a moment at his Daughter.
Isaac.
My child, wilt not, wilt not, to these old arms?

Rebecca.
Oh my dear father! (Falls into his arms.)


Isaac.
Earth recedes—ah now
I feel the presence of another world;
The heaven's unclasp their gates of burning light,
The seat of immortality's unveil'd
Where the great mover beams mid'st angel hosts;
A sun 'midst untold stars—'Tis sweet to die.

Isaac sinks into the arms of Ivanhoe: Rebecca kneels grasping her father's hand: the Curtain slowly falls to a plaintive melody.