by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXII
My daughter--O my ducats--O my daughter! ------O my Christian ducats! Justice--the Law--my ducats, and my daughter! --Merchant of Venice
Leaving the Saxon chiefs to return to their banquet as soon as theirungratified curiosity should permit them to attend to the calls of theirhalf-satiated appetite, we have to look in upon the yet more severeimprisonment of Isaac of York. The poor Jew had been hastily thrust intoa dungeon-vault of the castle, the floor of which was deep beneaththe level of the ground, and very damp, being lower than even the moatitself. The only light was received through one or two loop-holes farabove the reach of the captive's hand. These apertures admitted, evenat mid-day, only a dim and uncertain light, which was changed for utterdarkness long before the rest of the castle had lost the blessing ofday. Chains and shackles, which had been the portion of former captives,from whom active exertions to escape had been apprehended, hung rustedand empty on the walls of the prison, and in the rings of one of thosesets of fetters there remained two mouldering bones, which seemed tohave been once those of the human leg, as if some prisoner had been leftnot only to perish there, but to be consumed to a skeleton.
At one end of this ghastly apartment was a large fire-grate, over thetop of which were stretched some transverse iron bars, half devouredwith rust.
The whole appearance of the dungeon might have appalled a stouter heartthan that of Isaac, who, nevertheless, was more composed under theimminent pressure of danger, than he had seemed to be while affected byterrors, of which the cause was as yet remote and contingent. The loversof the chase say that the hare feels more agony during the pursuit ofthe greyhounds, than when she is struggling in their fangs. [27]
And thus it is probable, that the Jews, by the very frequency of theirfear on all occasions, had their minds in some degree prepared forevery effort of tyranny which could be practised upon them; so that noaggression, when it had taken place, could bring with it that surprisewhich is the most disabling quality of terror. Neither was it the firsttime that Isaac had been placed in circumstances so dangerous. He hadtherefore experience to guide him, as well as hope, that he might again,as formerly, be delivered as a prey from the fowler. Above all, he hadupon his side the unyielding obstinacy of his nation, and that unbendingresolution, with which Israelites have been frequently known to submitto the uttermost evils which power and violence can inflict upon them,rather than gratify their oppressors by granting their demands.
In this humour of passive resistance, and with his garment collectedbeneath him to keep his limbs from the wet pavement, Isaac sat in acorner of his dungeon, where his folded hands, his dishevelled hair andbeard, his furred cloak and high cap, seen by the wiry and broken light,would have afforded a study for Rembrandt, had that celebrated painterexisted at the period. The Jew remained, without altering his position,for nearly three hours, at the expiry of which steps were heard on thedungeon stair. The bolts screamed as they were withdrawn--the hingescreaked as the wicket opened, and Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, followed bythe two Saracen slaves of the Templar, entered the prison.
Front-de-Boeuf, a tall and strong man, whose life had been spent inpublic war or in private feuds and broils, and who had hesitated at nomeans of extending his feudal power, had features corresponding to hischaracter, and which strongly expressed the fiercer and more malignantpassions of the mind. The scars with which his visage was seamed,would, on features of a different cast, have excited the sympathy andveneration due to the marks of honourable valour; but, in the peculiarcase of Front-de-Boeuf, they only added to the ferocity of hiscountenance, and to the dread which his presence inspired. Thisformidable baron was clad in a leathern doublet, fitted close to hisbody, which was frayed and soiled with the stains of his armour. Hehad no weapon, excepting a poniard at his belt, which served tocounterbalance the weight of the bunch of rusty keys that hung at hisright side.
The black slaves who attended Front-de-Boeuf were stripped of theirgorgeous apparel, and attired in jerkins and trowsers of coarse linen,their sleeves being tucked up above the elbow, like those of butcherswhen about to exercise their function in the slaughter-house. Each hadin his hand a small pannier; and, when they entered the dungeon, theystopt at the door until Front-de-Boeuf himself carefully locked anddouble-locked it. Having taken this precaution, he advanced slowly upthe apartment towards the Jew, upon whom he kept his eye fixed, as ifhe wished to paralyze him with his glance, as some animals are said tofascinate their prey. It seemed indeed as if the sullen and malignanteye of Front-de-Boeuf possessed some portion of that supposed power overhis unfortunate prisoner. The Jew sat with his mouth agape, and hiseyes fixed on the savage baron with such earnestness of terror, that hisframe seemed literally to shrink together, and to diminish in size whileencountering the fierce Norman's fixed and baleful gaze. The unhappyIsaac was deprived not only of the power of rising to make the obeisancewhich his terror dictated, but he could not even doff his cap, or utterany word of supplication; so strongly was he agitated by the convictionthat tortures and death were impending over him.
On the other hand, the stately form of the Norman appeared to dilatein magnitude, like that of the eagle, which ruffles up its plumage whenabout to pounce on its defenceless prey. He paused within three stepsof the corner in which the unfortunate Jew had now, as it were, coiledhimself up into the smallest possible space, and made a sign for one ofthe slaves to approach. The black satellite came forward accordingly,and, producing from his basket a large pair of scales and severalweights, he laid them at the feet of Front-de-Boeuf, and again retiredto the respectful distance, at which his companion had already taken hisstation.
The motions of these men were slow and solemn, as if there impended overtheir souls some preconception of horror and of cruelty. Front-de-Boeufhimself opened the scene by thus addressing his ill-fated captive.
"Most accursed dog of an accursed race," he said, awaking with his deepand sullen voice the sullen echoes of his dungeon vault, "seest thouthese scales?"
The unhappy Jew returned a feeble affirmative.
"In these very scales shalt thou weigh me out," said the relentlessBaron, "a thousand silver pounds, after the just measure and weight ofthe Tower of London."
"Holy Abraham!" returned the Jew, finding voice through the veryextremity of his danger, "heard man ever such a demand?--Who everheard, even in a minstrel's tale, of such a sum as a thousand poundsof silver?--What human sight was ever blessed with the vision of sucha mass of treasure?--Not within the walls of York, ransack my houseand that of all my tribe, wilt thou find the tithe of that huge sum ofsilver that thou speakest of."
"I am reasonable," answered Front-de-Boeuf, "and if silver be scant, Irefuse not gold. At the rate of a mark of gold for each six pounds ofsilver, thou shalt free thy unbelieving carcass from such punishment asthy heart has never even conceived."
"Have mercy on me, noble knight!" exclaimed Isaac; "I am old, and poor,and helpless. It were unworthy to triumph over me--It is a poor deed tocrush a worm."
"Old thou mayst be," replied the knight; "more shame to their folly whohave suffered thee to grow grey in usury and knavery--Feeble thou maystbe, for when had a Jew either heart or hand--But rich it is well knownthou art."
"I swear to you, noble knight," said the Jew "by all which I believe,and by all which we believe in common---"
"Perjure not thyself," said the Norman, interrupting him, "and let notthine obstinacy seal thy doom, until thou hast seen and well consideredthe fate that awaits thee. Think not I speak to thee only to excite thyterror, and practise on the base cowardice thou hast derived from thytribe. I swear to thee by that which thou dost NOT believe, by thegospel which our church teaches, and by the keys which are given her tobind and to loose, that my purpose is deep and peremptory. Thisdungeon is no place for trifling. Prisoners ten thousand times moredistinguished than thou have died within these walls, and their fatehath never been known! But for thee is reserved a long and lingeringdeath, to which th
eirs were luxury."
He again made a signal for the slaves to approach, and spoke to themapart, in their own language; for he also had been in Palestine, whereperhaps, he had learnt his lesson of cruelty. The Saracens produced fromtheir baskets a quantity of charcoal, a pair of bellows, and a flaskof oil. While the one struck a light with a flint and steel, the otherdisposed the charcoal in the large rusty grate which we have alreadymentioned, and exercised the bellows until the fuel came to a red glow.
"Seest thou, Isaac," said Front-de-Boeuf, "the range of iron bars abovethe glowing charcoal?-- [28] on that warm couch thou shalt lie, strippedof thy clothes as if thou wert to rest on a bed of down. One of theseslaves shall maintain the fire beneath thee, while the other shallanoint thy wretched limbs with oil, lest the roast should burn.--Now,choose betwixt such a scorching bed and the payment of a thousand poundsof silver; for, by the head of my father, thou hast no other option."
"It is impossible," exclaimed the miserable Jew--"it is impossible thatyour purpose can be real! The good God of nature never made a heartcapable of exercising such cruelty!"
"Trust not to that, Isaac," said Front-de-Boeuf, "it were a fatal error.Dost thou think that I, who have seen a town sacked, in which thousandsof my Christian countrymen perished by sword, by flood, and by fire,will blench from my purpose for the outcries or screams of one singlewretched Jew?--or thinkest thou that these swarthy slaves, who haveneither law, country, nor conscience, but their master's will--who usethe poison, or the stake, or the poniard, or the cord, at his slightestwink--thinkest thou that THEY will have mercy, who do not evenunderstand the language in which it is asked?--Be wise, old man;discharge thyself of a portion of thy superfluous wealth; repay to thehands of a Christian a part of what thou hast acquired by the usury thouhast practised on those of his religion. Thy cunning may soon swellout once more thy shrivelled purse, but neither leech nor medicine canrestore thy scorched hide and flesh wert thou once stretched on thesebars. Tell down thy ransom, I say, and rejoice that at such rate thoucanst redeem thee from a dungeon, the secrets of which few have returnedto tell. I waste no more words with thee--choose between thy dross andthy flesh and blood, and as thou choosest, so shall it be."
"So may Abraham, Jacob, and all the fathers of our people assist me,"said Isaac, "I cannot make the choice, because I have not the means ofsatisfying your exorbitant demand!"
"Seize him and strip him, slaves," said the knight, "and let the fathersof his race assist him if they can."
The assistants, taking their directions more from the Baron's eye andhis hand than his tongue, once more stepped forward, laid hands on theunfortunate Isaac, plucked him up from the ground, and, holding himbetween them, waited the hard-hearted Baron's farther signal. Theunhappy Jew eyed their countenances and that of Front-de-Boeuf, inhope of discovering some symptoms of relenting; but that of the Baronexhibited the same cold, half-sullen, half-sarcastic smile which hadbeen the prelude to his cruelty; and the savage eyes of the Saracens,rolling gloomily under their dark brows, acquiring a yet more sinisterexpression by the whiteness of the circle which surrounds the pupil,evinced rather the secret pleasure which they expected from theapproaching scene, than any reluctance to be its directors or agents.The Jew then looked at the glowing furnace, over which he was presentlyto be stretched, and seeing no chance of his tormentor's relenting, hisresolution gave way.
"I will pay," he said, "the thousand pounds of silver--That is," headded, after a moment's pause, "I will pay it with the help of mybrethren; for I must beg as a mendicant at the door of our synagogue ereI make up so unheard-of a sum.--When and where must it be delivered?"
"Here," replied Front-de-Boeuf, "here it must be delivered--weighed itmust be--weighed and told down on this very dungeon floor.--Thinkestthou I will part with thee until thy ransom is secure?"
"And what is to be my surety," said the Jew, "that I shall be at libertyafter this ransom is paid?"
"The word of a Norman noble, thou pawn-broking slave," answeredFront-de-Boeuf; "the faith of a Norman nobleman, more pure than the goldand silver of thee and all thy tribe."
"I crave pardon, noble lord," said Isaac timidly, "but wherefore shouldI rely wholly on the word of one who will trust nothing to mine?"
"Because thou canst not help it, Jew," said the knight, sternly. "Wertthou now in thy treasure-chamber at York, and were I craving a loan ofthy shekels, it would be thine to dictate the time of payment, and thepledge of security. This is MY treasure-chamber. Here I have thee atadvantage, nor will I again deign to repeat the terms on which I grantthee liberty."
The Jew groaned deeply.--"Grant me," he said, "at least with my ownliberty, that of the companions with whom I travel. They scorned me asa Jew, yet they pitied my desolation, and because they tarried to aid meby the way, a share of my evil hath come upon them; moreover, they maycontribute in some sort to my ransom."
"If thou meanest yonder Saxon churls," said Front-de-Boeuf, "theirransom will depend upon other terms than thine. Mind thine own concerns,Jew, I warn thee, and meddle not with those of others."
"I am, then," said Isaac, "only to be set at liberty, together with minewounded friend?"
"Shall I twice recommend it," said Front-de-Boeuf, "to a son of Israel,to meddle with his own concerns, and leave those of others alone?--Sincethou hast made thy choice, it remains but that thou payest down thyransom, and that at a short day."
"Yet hear me," said the Jew--"for the sake of that very wealth whichthou wouldst obtain at the expense of thy---" Here he stopt short,afraid of irritating the savage Norman. But Front-de-Boeuf only laughed,and himself filled up the blank at which the Jew had hesitated.
"At the expense of my conscience, thou wouldst say, Isaac; speak itout--I tell thee, I am reasonable. I can bear the reproaches of a loser,even when that loser is a Jew. Thou wert not so patient, Isaac, whenthou didst invoke justice against Jacques Fitzdotterel, for calling theea usurious blood-sucker, when thy exactions had devoured his patrimony."
"I swear by the Talmud," said the Jew, "that your valour has beenmisled in that matter. Fitzdotterel drew his poniard upon me in mine ownchamber, because I craved him for mine own silver. The term of paymentwas due at the Passover."
"I care not what he did," said Front-de-Boeuf; "the question is, whenshall I have mine own?--when shall I have the shekels, Isaac?"
"Let my daughter Rebecca go forth to York," answered Isaac, "with yoursafe conduct, noble knight, and so soon as man and horse can return, thetreasure---" Here he groaned deeply, but added, after the pause of a fewseconds,--"The treasure shall be told down on this very floor."
"Thy daughter!" said Front-de-Boeuf, as if surprised,--"By heavens,Isaac, I would I had known of this. I deemed that yonder black-browedgirl had been thy concubine, and I gave her to be a handmaiden to SirBrian de Bois-Guilbert, after the fashion of patriarchs and heroes ofthe days of old, who set us in these matters a wholesome example."
The yell which Isaac raised at this unfeeling communication made thevery vault to ring, and astounded the two Saracens so much that they letgo their hold of the Jew. He availed himself of his enlargement to throwhimself on the pavement, and clasp the knees of Front-de-Boeuf.
"Take all that you have asked," said he, "Sir Knight--take ten timesmore--reduce me to ruin and to beggary, if thou wilt,--nay, pierceme with thy poniard, broil me on that furnace, but spare my daughter,deliver her in safety and honour!--As thou art born of woman, spare thehonour of a helpless maiden--She is the image of my deceased Rachel,she is the last of six pledges of her love--Will you deprive a widowedhusband of his sole remaining comfort?--Will you reduce a father to wishthat his only living child were laid beside her dead mother, in the tombof our fathers?"
"I would," said the Norman, somewhat relenting, "that I had knownof this before. I thought your race had loved nothing save theirmoneybags."
"Think not so vilely of us, Jews though we be," said Isaac, eager toimprove the moment of apparent sympathy; "the hunted fox, the torturedwi
ldcat loves its young--the despised and persecuted race of Abrahamlove their children!"
"Be it so," said Front-de-Boeuf; "I will believe it in future, Isaac,for thy very sake--but it aids us not now, I cannot help what hashappened, or what is to follow; my word is passed to my comrade in arms,nor would I break it for ten Jews and Jewesses to boot. Besides, whyshouldst thou think evil is to come to the girl, even if she becameBois-Guilbert's booty?"
"There will, there must!" exclaimed Isaac, wringing his hands in agony;"when did Templars breathe aught but cruelty to men, and dishonour towomen!"
"Dog of an infidel," said Front-de-Boeuf, with sparkling eyes, and notsorry, perhaps, to seize a pretext for working himself into a passion,"blaspheme not the Holy Order of the Temple of Zion, but take thoughtinstead to pay me the ransom thou hast promised, or woe betide thyJewish throat!"
"Robber and villain!" said the Jew, retorting the insults of hisoppressor with passion, which, however impotent, he now found itimpossible to bridle, "I will pay thee nothing--not one silver pennywill I pay thee, unless my daughter is delivered to me in safety andhonour!"
"Art thou in thy senses, Israelite?" said the Norman, sternly--"has thyflesh and blood a charm against heated iron and scalding oil?"
"I care not!" said the Jew, rendered desperate by paternal affection;"do thy worst. My daughter is my flesh and blood, dearer to me athousand times than those limbs which thy cruelty threatens. No silverwill I give thee, unless I were to pour it molten down thy avariciousthroat--no, not a silver penny will I give thee, Nazarene, were it tosave thee from the deep damnation thy whole life has merited! Take mylife if thou wilt, and say, the Jew, amidst his tortures, knew how todisappoint the Christian."
"We shall see that," said Front-de-Boeuf; "for by the blessed rood,which is the abomination of thy accursed tribe, thou shalt feel theextremities of fire and steel!--Strip him, slaves, and chain him downupon the bars."
In spite of the feeble struggles of the old man, the Saracens hadalready torn from him his upper garment, and were proceeding totally todisrobe him, when the sound of a bugle, twice winded without the castle,penetrated even to the recesses of the dungeon, and immediatelyafter loud voices were heard calling for Sir Reginald Front-de-Boeuf.Unwilling to be found engaged in his hellish occupation, the savageBaron gave the slaves a signal to restore Isaac's garment, and, quittingthe dungeon with his attendants, he left the Jew to thank God forhis own deliverance, or to lament over his daughter's captivity,and probable fate, as his personal or parental feelings might provestrongest.
