ustice! I am not naturally that which you have seen me,
hard, selfish, and relentless. It was woman that taught me cruelty, and
on woman therefore I have exercised it; but not upon such as thou. Hear
me, Rebecca--Never did knight take lance in his hand with a heart more
devoted to the lady of his love than Brian de Bois-Guilbert. She, the
daughter of a petty baron, who boasted for all his domains but a ruinous
tower, and an unproductive vineyard, and some few leagues of the barren
Landes of Bourdeaux, her name was known wherever deeds of arms were
done, known wider than that of many a lady's that had a county for a
dowery.--Yes," he continued, pacing up and down the little platform,
with an animation in which he seemed to lose all consciousness of
Rebecca's presence--"Yes, my deeds, my danger, my blood, made the name
of Adelaide de Montemare known from the court of Castile to that of
Byzantium. And how was I requited?--When I returned with my dear-bought
honours, purchased by toil and blood, I found her wedded to a Gascon
squire, whose name was never heard beyond the limits of his own paltry
domain! Truly did I love her, and bitterly did I revenge me of her
broken faith! But my vengeance has recoiled on myself. Since that day
I have separated myself from life and its ties--My manhood must know no
domestic home--must be soothed by no affectionate wife--My age must
know no kindly hearth--My grave must be solitary, and no offspring must
outlive me, to bear the ancient name of Bois-Guilbert. At the feet of
my Superior I have laid down the right of self-action--the privilege
of independence. The Templar, a serf in all but the name, can possess
neither lands nor goods, and lives, moves, and breathes, but at the will
and pleasure of another."

"Alas!" said Rebecca, "what advantages could compensate for such an
absolute sacrifice?"

"The power of vengeance, Rebecca," replied the Templar, "and the
prospects of ambition."

"An evil recompense," said Rebecca, "for the surrender of the rights
which are dearest to humanity."

"Say not so, maiden," answered the Templar; "revenge is a feast for the
gods! And if they have reserved it, as priests tell us, to themselves,
it is because they hold it an enjoyment too precious for the possession
of mere mortals.--And ambition? it is a temptation which could disturb
even the bliss of heaven itself."--He paused a moment, and then added,
"Rebecca! she who could prefer death to dishonour, mu