HKB
The TEMPLAR walking to and fro, a FRIAR following him at some distance*, *as if desirous of addressing him.
TEMPLAR.
This fellow does not follow me for pastime. How skaunt he eyes his hands! Well, my good brother— Perhaps I should say, father; ought I not?
FRIAR.
No—brother—a lay-brother at your service.
TEMPLAR.
Well, brother, then; if I myself had something— But—but, by God, I’ve nothing.
FRIAR.
Thanks the same; And God reward your purpose thousand-fold! The will, and not the deed, makes up the giver. Nor was I sent to follow you for alms—
TEMPLAR.
Sent then?
FRIAR.
Yes, from the monastery.
TEMPLAR.
Where I was just now in hopes of coming in For pilgrims’ fare.
FRIAR.
They were already at table: But if it suit with you to turn directly—
TEMPLAR.
Why so? ’Tis true, I have not tasted meat This long time. What of that? The dates are ripe.
FRIAR.
O with that fruit go cautiously to work. Too much of it is hurtful, sours the humours, Makes the blood melancholy.
TEMPLAR.
And if I Choose to be melancholy—For this warning You were not sent to follow me, I ween.
FRIAR.
Oh, no: I only was to ask about you, And feel your pulse a little.
TEMPLAR.
And you tell me Of that yourself?
FRIAR.
Why not?
TEMPLAR.
A deep one! troth: And has your cloister more such?
FRIAR.
I can’t say. Obedience is our bounden duty.
TEMPLAR.
So— And you obey without much scrupulous questioning?
FRIAR.
Were it obedience else, good sir?
TEMPLAR.
How is it The simple mind is ever in the right? May you inform me who it is that wishes To know more of me? ’Tis not you yourself, I dare be sworn.
FRIAR.
Would it become me, sir, Or benefit me?
TEMPLAR.
Whom can it become, Whom can it benefit, to be so curious?
FRIAR.
The patriarch, I presume—’twas he that sent me.
TEMPLAR.
The patriarch? Knows he not my badge, the cross Of red on the white mantle?
FRIAR.
Can I say?
TEMPLAR.
Well, brother, well! I am a templar, taken Prisoner at Tebnin, whose exalted fortress, Just as the truce expired, we sought to climb, In order to push forward next to Sidon. I was the twentieth captive, but the only Pardoned by Saladin—with this, the patriarch Knows all, or more than his occasions ask.
FRIAR.
And yet no more than he already knows, I think. But why alone of all the captives Thou hast been spared, he fain would learn—
TEMPLAR.
Can I Myself tell that? Already, with bare neck, I kneeled upon my mantle, and awaited The blow—when Saladin with steadfast eye Fixed me, sprang nearer to me, made a sign— I was upraised, unbound, about to thank him— And saw his eye in tears. Both stand in silence. He goes. I stay. How all this hangs together, Thy patriarch may unriddle.
FRIAR.
He concludes, That God preserved you for some mighty deed.
TEMPLAR.
Some mighty deed? To save out of the fire A Jewish girl—to usher curious pilgrims About Mount Sinai—to—
FRIAR.
The time may come— And this is no such trifle—but perhaps The patriarch meditates a weightier office.
TEMPLAR.
Think you so, brother? Has he hinted aught?
FRIAR.
Why, yes; I was to sift you out a little, And hear if you were one to—
TEMPLAR.
Well—to what? I’m curious to observe how this man sifts.
FRIAR.
The shortest way will be to tell you plainly What are the patriarch’s wishes.
TEMPLAR.
And they are—
FRIAR.
To send a letter by your hand.
TEMPLAR.