The Monastery

by Walter Scott

  Chapter the Thirty-First.

  At school I knew him--a sharp-witted youth, Grave, thoughtful, and reserved among his mates, Turning the hours of sport and food to labour, Starving his body to inform his mind. OLD PLAY.

  The Sub-Prior, at the Borderer's request, had not failed to return tothe tower, into which he was followed by Christie of the Clinthill, who,shutting the door of the apartment, drew near, and began his discoursewith great confidence and familiarity.

  "My master," he said, "sends me with his commendations to you, SirSub-Prior, above all the community of Saint Mary's, and more speciallythan even to the Abbot himself; for though he be termed my lord, and soforth, all the world knows that you are the tongue of the trump."

  "If you have aught to say to me concerning the community," said theSub-Prior, "it were well you proceeded in it without farther delay. Timepresses, and the fate of young Glendinnning dwells on my mind."

  "I will be caution for him, body for body," said Christie. "I do protestto you, as sure as I am a living man, so surely is he one."

  "Should I not tell his unhappy mother the joyful tidings?" said FatherEustace,--"and yet better wait till they return from searching thegrave. Well, Sir Jackman, your message to me from your master?"

  "My lord and master," said Christie, "hath good reason to believe that,from the information of certain back friends, whom he will reward atmore leisure, your reverend community hath been led to deem him illattached to Holy Church, allied with heretics and those who favourheresy, and a hungerer after the spoils of your Abbey."

  "Be brief, good henchman," said the Sub-Prior, "for the devil is evermost to be feared when he preacheth."

  "Briefly, then--my master desires your friendship; and to excuse himselffrom the maligner's calumnies, he sends to your Abbot that Henry Warden,whose sermons have turned the world upside down, to be dealt with asHoly Church directs, and as the Abbot's pleasure may determine."

  The Sub-Prior's eyes sparkled at the intelligence; for it had beenaccounted a matter of great importance that this man should be arrested,possessed, as he was known to be, of so much zeal and popularity, thatscarcely the preaching of Knox himself had been more awakening to thepeople, and more formidable to the Church of Rome.

  In fact, that ancient system, which so well accommodated its doctrinesto the wants and wishes of a barbarous age, had, since the art ofprinting, and the gradual diffusion of knowledge, lain floating likesome huge Leviathan, into which ten thousand reforming fishers weredarting their harpoons. The Roman Church of Scotland, in particular,was at her last gasp, actually blowing blood and water, yet still withunremitted, though animal exertions, maintaining the conflict with theassailants, who on every side were plunging their weapons into her bulkybody. In many large towns, the monasteries had been suppressed bythe fury of the populace; in other places, their possessions had beenusurped by the power of the reformed nobles; but still the hierarchymade a part of the common law of the realm, and might claim both itsproperty and its privileges wherever it had the means of asserting them.The community of Saint Mary's of Kennaquhair was considered as beingparticularly in this situation. They had retained, undiminished,their territorial power and influence; and the great barons in theneighbourhood, partly from their attachment to the party in the statewho still upheld the old system of religion, partly because each grudgedthe share of the prey which the others must necessarily claim, hadas yet abstained from despoiling the Halidome. The Community was alsounderstood to be protected by the powerful Earls of Northumberland andWestmoreland, whose zealous attachment to the Catholic faith caused at alater period the great rebellion of the tenth of Elizabeth.

  Thus happily placed, it was supposed by the friends of the decayingcause of the Roman Catholic faith, that some determined example ofcourage and resolution, exercised where the franchises of the churchwere yet entire, and her jurisdiction undisputed, might awe the progressof the new opinions into activity; and, protected by the laws whichstill existed, and by the favour of the sovereign, might be the means ofsecuring the territory which Rome yet preserved in Scotland, and perhapsof recovering that which she had lost.

  The matter had been considered more than once by the northern Catholicsof Scotland, and they had held communication with those of the south.Father Eustace, devoted by his public and private vows, had caught theflame, and had eagerly advised that they should execute the doom ofheresy on the first reformed preacher, or, according to his sense, onthe first heretic of eminence, who should venture within the precinctsof the Halidome. A heart, naturally kind and noble, was, in thisinstance, as it has been in many more, deceived by its own generosity.Father Eustace would have been a bad administrator of the inquisitorialpower of Spain, where that power was omnipotent, and where judgment wasexercised without danger to those who inflicted it. In such a situationhis rigour might have relented in favour of the criminal, whom it wasat his pleasure to crush or to place at freedom. But in Scotland, duringthis crisis, the case was entirely different. The question was, whetherone of the spirituality dared, at the hazard of his own life, to stepforward to assert and exercise the rights of the church. Was there anywho would venture to wield the thunder in her cause, or must it remainlike that in the hand of a painted Jupiter, the object of derisioninstead of terror? The crisis was calculated to awake the soul ofEustace; for it comprised the question, whether he dared, at all hazardsto himself, to execute with stoical severity a measure which, accordingto the general opinion, was to be advantageous to the church, and,according to ancient law, and to his firm belief, was not onlyjustifiable but meritorious.

  While such resolutions were agitated amongst the Catholics, chanceplaced a victim within their grasp. Henry Warden had, with the animationproper to the enthusiastic reformers of the age, transgressed, in thevehemence of his zeal, the bounds of the discretional liberty allowedto his sect so far, that it was thought the Queen's personal dignitywas concerned in bringing him to justice. He fled from Edinburgh,with recommendations, however, from Lord James Stewart, afterwards thecelebrated Earl of Murray, to some of the Border chieftains of inferiorrank, who were privately conjured to procure him safe passage intoEngland. One of the principal persons to whom such recommendation wasaddressed, was Julian Avenel; for as yet, and for a considerable timeafterwards, the correspondence and interest of Lord James lay ratherwith the subordinate leaders than with the chiefs of great power,and men of distinguished influence upon the Border. Julian Avenel hadintrigued without scruple with both parties--yet bad as he was, hecertainly would not have practised aught against the guest whom LordJames had recommended to his hospitality, had it not been for what hetermed the preacher's officious inter-meddling in his family affairs.But when he had determined to make Warden rue the lecture he had readhim, and the scene of public scandal which he had caused in his hall,Julian resolved, with the constitutional shrewdness of his disposition,to combine his vengeance with his interest. And therefore, instead ofdoing violence on the person of Henry Warden within his own castle, hedetermined to deliver him up to the Community of Saint Mary's, and atonce make them the instruments of his own revenge, and found a claim ofpersonal recompense, either in money, or in a grant of Abbey lands at alow quit-rent, which last began now to be the established form in whichthe temporal nobles plundered the spirituality.

  The Sub-Prior, therefore, of Saint Mary's, unexpectedly saw thesteadfast, active, and inflexible enemy of the church delivered intohis hand, and felt himself called upon to make good his promises to thefriends of the Catholic faith, by quenching heresy in the blood of oneof its most zealous professors.

  To the honour more of Father Eustace's heart than of his consistency,the communication that Henry Warden was placed within his power, struckhim with more sorrow than triumph; but his next feelings were those ofexultation. "It is sad," he said to himself, "to cause human suffering;it is awful to cause human blood to be spilled; but the judge towhom the sword of Saint Paul, as well as the keys of Sai
nt Peter, areconfided, must not flinch from his task. Our weapon returns into ourown bosom, if not wielded with a steady and unrelenting hand against theirreconcilable enemies of the Holy Church. _Pereat iste!_ It is the doomhe has incurred, and were all the heretics in Scotland armed and at hisback, they should not prevent its being pronounced, and, if possible,enforced.--Bring the heretic before me," he said, issuing his commandsaloud, and in a tone of authority.

  Henry Warden was led in, his hands still bound, but his feet at liberty.

  "Clear the apartment," said the Sub-Prior, "of all but the necessaryguard on the prisoner."

  All retired except Christie of the Clinthill, who, having dismissed theinferior troopers whom he commanded, unsheathed his sword, and placedhimself beside the door, as if taking upon him the character ofsentinel.

  The judge and the accused met face to face, and in that of both wasenthroned the noble confidence of rectitude. The monk was about, atthe utmost risk to himself and his community, to exercise what in hisignorance he conceived to be his duty. The preacher, actuated by abetter-informed, yet not a more ardent zeal, was prompt to submit toexecution for God's sake, and to seal, were it necessary, his missionwith his blood. Placed at such a distance of time as better enables usto appreciate the tendency of the principles on which they severallyacted, we cannot doubt to which the palm ought to be awarded. But thezeal of Father Eustace was as free from passion and personal views as ifit had been exerted in a better cause.

  They approached each other, armed each and prepared for intellectualconflict, and each intently regarding his opponent, as if either hopedto spy out some defect, some chasm in the armour of his antagonist.--Asthey gazed on each other, old recollections began to awake in eitherbosom, at the sight of features long unseen and much altered, but notforgotten. The brow of the Sub-Prior dismissed by degrees its frown ofcommand, the look of calm yet stern defiance gradually vanished fromthat of Warden, and both lost for an instant that of gloomy solemnity.They had been ancient and intimate friends in youth at a foreignuniversity, but had been long separated from each other; and the changeof name, which the preacher had adopted from motives of safety, andthe monk from the common custom of the convent, had prevented thepossibility of their hitherto recognizing each other in the oppositeparts which they had been playing in the great polemical and politicaldrama. But now the Sub-Prior exclaimed, "Henry Wellwood!" and thepreacher replied, "William Allan!"--and, stirred by the old familiarnames, and never-to-be-forgotten recollections of college studies andcollege intimacy, their hands were for a moment locked in each other.

  "Remove his bonds," said the Sub-Prior, and assisted Christie inperforming that office with his own hands, although the prisonerscarcely would consent to be unbound, repeating with emphasis, that herejoiced in the cause for which he suffered shame. When his handswere at liberty, however, he showed his sense of the kindness by againexchanging a grasp and a look of affection with the Sub-Prior.

  The salute was frank and generous on either side, yet it was but thefriendly recognition and greeting which are wont to take place betwixtadverse champions, who do nothing in hate but all in honour. As eachfelt the pressure of the situation in which they stood, he quitted thegrasp of the other's hand, and fell back, confronting each other withlooks more calm and sorrowful than expressive of any other passion. TheSub-Prior was the first to speak.

  "And is this, then, the end of that restless activity of mind, that boldand indefatigable love of truth that urged investigation to itsutmost limits, and seemed to take heaven itself by storm--is this thetermination of Wellwood's career?--And having known and loved him duringthe best years of our youth, do we meet in our old age as judge andcriminal?"

  "Not as judge and criminal," said Henry Warden,--for to avoid confusionwe describe him by his later and best known name--"Not as judge andcriminal do we meet, but as a misguided oppressor and his ready anddevoted victim. I, too, may ask, are these the harvest of the rich hopesexcited by the classical learning, acute logical powers, and variedknowledge of William Allan, that he should sink to be the solitarydrone of a cell, graced only above the swarm with the high commission ofexecuting Roman malice on all who oppose Roman imposture?"

  "Not to thee," answered the Sub-Prior, "be assured--not unto thee, norunto mortal man, will I render an account of the power with which thechurch may have invested me. It was granted but as a deposit for herwelfare--for her welfare it shall at every risk be exercised, withoutfear and without favour."

  "I expected no less from your misguided zeal," answered the preacher;"and in me have you met one on whom you may fearlessly exercise yourauthority, secure that his mind at least will defy your influence, asthe snows of that Mont Blanc which we saw together, shrink not under theheat of the hottest summer sun."

  "I do believe thee," said the Sub-Prior, "I do believe that thine isindeed metal unmalleable by force. Let it yield then to persuasion. Letus debate these matters of faith, as we once were wont to conduct ourscholastic disputes, when hours, nay, days, glided past in the mutualexercise of our intellectual powers. It may be thou mayest yet hear thevoice of the shepherd, and return to the universal fold."

  "No, Allan," replied the prisoner, "this is no vain question, devised bydreaming scholiasts, on which they may whet their intellectual facultiesuntil the very metal be wasted away. The errors which I combat are likethose fiends which are only cast out by fasting and prayer. Alas! notmany wise, not many learned are chosen; the cottage and the hamlet shallin our days bear witness against the schools and their disciples. Thyvery wisdom, which is foolishness, hath made thee, as the Greeks of old,hold as foolishness that which is the only true wisdom."

  "This," said the Sub-Prior, sternly, "is the mere cant of ignorantenthusiasm, which appealeth from learning and from authority, from thesure guidance of that lamp which God hath afforded us in the Councilsand in the Fathers of the Church, to a rash, self-willed, and arbitraryinterpretation of the Scriptures, wrested according to the privateopinion of each speculating heretic."

  "I disdain to reply to the charge," replied Warden. "The question atissue between your Church and mine, is, whether we will be judged by theHoly Scriptures, or by the devices and decisions of men not less subjectto error than ourselves, and who have defaced our holy religion withvain devices, reared up idols of stone and wood, in form of those, who,when they lived, were but sinful creatures, to share the worship dueonly to the Creator--established a toll-house betwixt heaven and hell,that profitable purgatory of which the Pope keeps the keys, like aniniquitous judge commutes punishment for bribes, and----"

  "Silence, blasphemer," said the Sub-Prior, sternly, "or I will have thyblatant obloquy stopped with a gag!"

  "Ay," replied Warden, "such is the freedom of the Christian conferenceto which Rome's priests so kindly invite us!--the gag--the rack--theaxe--is the _ratio ultima Romae_. But know thou, mine ancient friend,that the character of thy former companion is not so changed by age, butthat he still dares to endure for the cause of truth all that thy proudhierarchy shall dare to inflict."

  "Of that," said the monk, "I nothing doubt--Thou wert ever a lion toturn against the spear of the hunter, not a stag to be dismayed at thesound of his bugle."--He walked through the room in silence. "Wellwood,"he said at length, "we can no longer be friends. Our faith, our hope,our anchor on futurity, is no longer the same."

  "Deep is my sorrow that thou speakest truth. May God so judge me," saidthe Reformer, "as I would buy the conversion of a soul like thine withmy dearest heart's blood."

  "To thee, and with better reason, do I return the wish," replied theSub-Prior; "it is such an arm as thine that should defend the bulwarksof the Church, and it is now directing the battering-ram against them,and rendering practicable the breach through which all that is greedy,and all that is base, and all that is mutable and hot-headed in thisinnovating age, already hope to advance to destruction and to spoil.But since such is our fate, that we can no longer fight side by sideas friends, let us at least act as gener
ous enemies. You cannot haveforgotten,

  'O gran bonta dei caralieri antiqui! Erano nemici, eran' de fede diversa'--

  Although, perhaps," he added, stopping short in his quotation, "your newfaith forbids you to reserve a place in your memory, even for what highpoets have recorded of loyal faith and generous sentiment."

  "The faith of Buchanan," replied the preacher, "the faith of Buchananand of Beza, cannot be unfriendly to literature. But the poet you havequoted affords strains fitter for a dissolute court than for a convent."

  "I might retort on your Theodore Beza," said the Sub-Prior, smiling;"but I hate the judgment that, like the flesh-fly, skims over whateveris sound, to detect and settle upon some spot which is tainted. But tothe purpose. If I conduct thee or send thee a prisoner to St. Mary's,thou art to-night a tenant of the dungeon, to-morrow a burden to thegibbet-tree. If I were to let thee go hence at large, I were therebywronging the Holy Church, and breaking mine own solemn vow. Otherresolutions may be adopted in the capital, or better times may speedilyensue. Wilt thou remain a true prisoner upon thy parole, rescue or norescue, as is the phrase amongst the warriors of this country? Wiltthou solemnly promise that thou wilt do so, and at my summons thou wiltpresent thyself before the Abbot and Chapter at Saint Mary's, and thatthou wilt not stir from this house above a quarter of a mile in anydirection? Wilt thou, I say, engage me thy word for this? and such isthe sure trust which I repose in thy good faith, that thou shalt remainhere unharmed and unsecured, a prisoner at large, subject only to appearbefore our court when called upon."

  The preacher paused--"I am unwilling," he said, "to fetter my nativeliberty by any self-adopted engagement. But I am already in your power,and you may bind me to my answer. By such promise, to abide withina certain limit, and to appear when called upon, I renounce not anyliberty which I at present possess, and am free to exercise; but, on thecontrary, being in bonds, and at your mercy, I acquire thereby a libertywhich I at present possess not. I will therefore accept of thy proffer,as what is courteously offered on thy part, and may be honourablyaccepted on mine."

  "Stay yet," said the Sub-Prior; "one important part of thy engagement isforgotten--thou art farther to promise, that while thus left at liberty,thou wilt not preach or teach, directly or indirectly, any of thosepestilent heresies by which so many souls have been in this our day wonover from the kingdom of light to the kingdom of darkness."

  "There we break off our treaty," said Warden, firmly--"Wo unto me if Ipreach not the Gospel!"

  The Sub-Prior's countenance became clouded, and he again paced theapartment, and muttered, "A plague upon the self-willed fool!" thenstopped short in his walk, and proceeded in his argument.--"Why, bythine own reasoning, Henry, thy refusal here is but peevish obstinacy.It is in my power to place you where your preaching can reach no humanear; in promising therefore to abstain from it, you grant nothing whichyou have it in your power to refuse."

  "I know not that," replied Henry Warden; "thou mayest indeed cast meinto a dungeon, but can I foretell that my Master hath not task-work forme to perform even in that dreary mansion? The chains of saints have,ere now, been the means of breaking the bonds of Satan. In a prison,holy Paul found the jailor whom he brought to believe the word ofsalvation, he and all his house."

  "Nay," said the Sub-Prior, in a tone betwixt anger and scorn, "ifyou match yourself with the blessed Apostle, it were time we haddone--prepare to endure what thy folly, as well as thy heresy,deserves.--Bind him, soldier."

  With proud submission to his fate, and regarding the Sub-Prior withsomething which almost amounted to a smile of superiority, the preacherplaced his arms so that the bonds could be again fastened round him.

  "Spare me not," he said to Christie; for even that ruffian hesitated todraw the cord straitly.

  The Sub-Prior, meanwhile, looked at him from under his cowl, which hehad drawn over his head, and partly over his face, as if he wished toshade his own emotions. They were those of a huntsman within point-blankshot of a noble stag, who is yet too much struck with his majesty offront and of antler to take aim at him. They were those of a fowler,who, levelling his gun at a magnificent eagle, is yet reluctant to usehis advantage when he sees the noble sovereign of the birds pruninghimself in proud defiance of whatever may be attempted against him. Theheart of the Sub-Prior (bigoted as he was) relented, and he doubtedif he ought to purchase, by a rigorous discharge of what he deemed hisduty, the remorse he might afterwards feel for the death of one so noblyindependent in thought and character, the friend, besides, of his ownhappiest years, during which they had, side by side, striven in thenoble race of knowledge, and indulged their intervals of repose in thelighter studies of classical and general letters.

  The Sub-Prior's hand pressed his half-o'ershadowed cheek, and his eye,more completely obscured, was bent on the ground, as if to hide theworkings of his relenting nature.

  "Were but Edward safe from the infection," he thought tohimself--"Edward, whose eager and enthusiastic mind presses forward inthe chase of all that hath even the shadow of knowledge, I might trustthis enthusiast with the women, after due caution to them that theycannot, without guilt, attend to his reveries."

  As the Sub-Prior revolved these thoughts, and delayed the definitiveorder which was to determine the fate of the prisoner, a sudden noiseat the entrance of the tower diverted his attention for an instant, and,his cheek and brow inflamed with all the glow of heat and determination,Edward Glendinning rushed into the room.

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