MONTFORT AND THE PERFECT.
Simon, Count of Leicester and of Montfort-L'Amaury lies on a bed in
great agony. Alyx of Montmorency, a woman barely thirty years old, is on
her knees near her husband's couch.
Lambert of Limoux introduces Karvel the Perfect to Alyx and withdraws,
leaving him in the chamber.
ALYX OF MONTMORENCY (crossing herself, addresses the physician in a
feeble voice)--"You have been long in coming. It may now be too late!"
KARVEL--"We have many wounded in Lavaur. My first assistance was due to
them. You have summoned me in the name of humanity. I have come, madam,
to fill a sacred duty."
ALYX OF MONTMORENCY--"At times it pleases the Lord to avail Himself of
the most perverse instruments in behalf of His elect!"
KARVEL (smiles at the singular reception and approaches the couch of
Simon whose haggard face and fixed eyes seem to give no sign of
intelligence. After a long and attentive examination of the patient,
after placing his hand on the count's forehead, slightly touching his
parched lips with his fingers and consulting his pulse, addresses the
countess)--"Your husband must be quickly bled, madam. (Saying this he
draws from his pocket a reticule that contains a red cloth band and
lancets; he picks out one of these and adds) Kindly draw this table and
candle nearer, madam; I shall then want your assistance to support your
husband's arm. The silver basin that I see on yonder shelf will serve to
receive the blood in. I recommend to you, madam, not to allow the count
to bend his arm when I prick it. There is an artery that my lancet might
cut, if the arm is not held steady--and that would prove mortal."
ALYX OF MONTMORENCY (impassible)--"My husband can die. He is in the
state of grace."
For an instant stupefied by such frigid insensibility, Karvel stays his
hand, but his professional instinct resumes the ascendency, and he
boldly and dexterously lances the vein, from which a jet of thick black
blood immediately issues and falls steaming into the silver basin.
KARVEL--"What black blood! The bleeding will, I hope, save your husband,
madam!"
ALYX OF MONTMORENCY--"The will of God be done! May His name be
glorified."
The patient's blood continues to flow into the silver vessel. Only the
muffled and continued sound of the trickling blood interrupts the
otherwise profound silence of the chamber. The Perfect attentively
watches the count's face and notices the gradual manifestations of the
beneficent effect produced by the blood letting. The patient's skin,
until then parched and burning, is gradually suffused with a copious
perspiration. His chest is relieved. His fixed eyes are soon covered by
their lids. Karvel again consults the count's pulse, and cries
delighted: "He is saved!"
ALYX OF MONTMORENCY (raising her eyes to the ceiling)--"Lord, since it
pleases You to leave my husband in this valley of tears and misery--may
Your will be done! May Your holy name be glorified!"
Karvel stops the flow of the blood with the red bandage, which he rolls
around the count's arm. He then steps to the casket that he brought with
him and which he placed upon a table, takes from it several vials and
prepares a potion. Montfort's condition improves as if by enchantment.
He gradually recovers from his lethargy, and heaves a sigh of profound
relief. The Perfect finishes the preparation of the potion, steps back
to the couch and says to the countess:
"Please raise your husband's head, madam, and help me to make him drink
this potion that will restore his strength. All danger of death is now
removed."
Alyx of Montmorency follows Karvel's instructions. The effect of the
potion is not long in manifesting itself. Montfort's gaze, that until
then seemed vague and wandering, falls upon the physician. He
contemplates Karvel in silence for a moment, and turning his head toward
the countess while he painfully raises his arm to point at the Perfect,
he asks in a feeble and hollow voice: "Who is that man?"
ALYX OF MONTMORENCY--"It is the heretic Lavaur physician whom we sent
for."
At these words Simon shudders with surprise and horror. He closes his
eyes and seems to be steeped in thought. After depositing a little flask
on the table, Karvel closes his casket, takes it in his hands and says
to the countess:
"Madam, you will give your husband a mouthful of the potion in this
flask every hour during the night. I think that will suffice to restore
the count to health. He shall have to keep his bed two or three days.
And now, adieu; the wounded of Lavaur are waiting for me."
MONTFORT (seeing his savior moving towards the door, rises on his elbow
and says to Karvel in an imperative tone)--"Stop! (The Perfect hesitates
to obey the count; the latter rings a bell that lies near him and says
to one of the equerries who answer the call). That physician shall not
leave the place without my orders."
The equerry bows and leaves the chamber.
MONTFORT--"Listen, physician, I am expert on courage. You have given a
proof of courage in coming hither--alone--in the lion's den--"
KARVEL--"Your wife summoned me to your camp in the name of humanity. You
are a human being--you suffered--I hastened to you. Moreover, I thought
it well to prove once more how these 'heretics,' these 'monsters'--against
whom so many horrors have been unchained--practice the evangelical
morality of Jesus. You are our implacable enemy, Montfort, and yet I am
glad to have saved your life."
MONTFORT--"Blaspheme not! You have only been the vile instrument of the
will of God, Who has willed to spare my life, the life of His unworthy
servant, the life of the humble sword of His triumphant Church.--But I
repeat it. You are a brave fellow. As such you interest me. I would like
to save your soul."
KARVEL--"Do not trouble yourself about that. Only let me return without
delay to Lavaur, where our wounded await my services."
MONTFORT--"No! You shall not depart so soon!"
KARVEL--"You have the power. I submit (After a moment's reflection)
Seeing that you oppose my departure, seeing that you believe you owe me
some gratitude, pay the debt by sincerely answering me a few questions."
MONTFORT--"I allow you to speak."
KARVEL--"Your valor is well known.--Your morals are austere.--You are
humane towards your soldiers. At the crossing of the Durance you were
seen to throw yourself into the water to save a foot-soldier who was
being carried off by the current."
MONTFORT (brusquely)--"Enough! Enough! You shall not awaken in my soul
the demon of pride! I am only an earthly worm!"
KARVEL--"I am not flattering you.--You are accessible to humane
promptings. Now, then, tell me, did you not moan at the fate of the
sixty thousand creatures of God--men, women and children--who were
massacred in Beziers by orders issued by yourself and the papal
legate?"
MONTFORT--"Never did I feel greater exaltation. To obey the Pope is to
obey God!"
KARVEL (struck by the sincerity of Montfort's tone, remains pensive for
a moment)--"The delirium of war is blind, I know. But after the battle
is over, after the sanguinary fever is cooled down, still to order in
cold blood the massacre of thousands of unarmed and inoffensive beings,
women and children--it is shocking! Think of it, Montfort, to order the
massacre of children!"
MONTFORT (afflicted)--"Oh! How does the sacrilegious astonishment of the
miscreant prove the depth of his heresy! He does not know that children
die in a state of grace!"
KARVEL--"Explain yourself more clearly. Be indulgent with my ignorance.
Let us be definite. In a city that is taken by storm, a mother flees
with her child. You slay the mother. Is that a worthy act before God?"
MONTFORT--"The viper that is crushed, breeds no more little ones. The
supply of the miscreants is thus reduced."
KARVEL--"That is logical. But why slay the child? That is an abominable
act?"
MONTFORT--"Of what age are you supposing the child to be?"
KARVEL--"I suppose it to be at its mother's breast."
MONTFORT--"Has it been baptized by a Catholic priest?"
KARVEL--"That child at its mother's breast whom you slay--has been
baptized."
MONTFORT--"Then it is in a state of grace and ascends straight into
Paradise. As to children who are older than seven years, they go to
purgatory there to await their admission in the blessed resting place.
But if they have not been baptized--then the case is grave--"
KARVEL--"What happens to those children?"
MONTFORT--"The poor little creatures, still dripping with the soilure of
original sin, go straight to hell where they are forever deprived of the
countenance of God. Nevertheless, in consideration of their tender
years, the hope is left to them of being exempted from the everlasting
flames by the prayers of the faithful--a grace that never would have
fallen to their share had they been allowed to remain wallowing in the
pestilence of heresy! Their death will have resulted in a mitigation of
their punishment."
KARVEL--"Accordingly, in these days of a 'holy war', the accidental
killing of a Catholic child sends him straight to Paradise, and the
slaying of a heretic child affords it a good opportunity to escape the
everlasting flames, but does not snatch it out of hell!"
MONTFORT--"You have put it correctly. The child that is not baptized can
never emerge out of hell."
KARVEL--"I am now clear upon the fate of children. Let us now take up
the case of women--"
MONTFORT--"I am anxious to save your soul. Perchance this conversation
will open your eyes to the light."
KARVEL--"In the Castle of Lavaur that you are now besieging there is a
woman--an angel of goodness and virtue. Her name is Giraude. (The count
seems to be seized with fury at the mentioning of the name and tosses on
his couch). Let me finish what I have to say. Be not impatient;
besides, a fit of anger might prove fatal to you in your present
condition. Take a few drops of this potion. I see that your wife,
piously absorbed in her orisons, forgets the creature for the Creator."
MONTFORT (after taking a few draughts of the potion and again heaving a
sigh of relief)--"The Lord has had pity upon me, miserable sinner that I
am! I feel my strength returning. May the Lord be praised! Let the
heretics tremble in their burrows!"
KARVEL--"The Lady of Lavaur is locked up with her son and brother in the
Castle of Lavaur which you are now besieging. Giraude is an angel of
virtue and goodness. Suppose that to-morrow, more successful than in
your previous attacks upon the castle, you carry it by assault, and
Giraude together with her son, a lad of fourteen, having escaped the
general massacre, fall into your hands. What will you do with that woman
and her son? Answer me, noble Count of Montfort!"
MONTFORT--"The papal legate will say to the heretic woman: 'Will you,
yes or no, renounce Satan and re-enter into the bosom of the Roman
Catholic and Apostolic Church? Will you, yes or no, renounce all your
earthly goods and lock yourself up for the rest of your days in a
cloister, there to expiate your past heretical life?'"
KARVEL--"Giraude will answer the Pope's legate: 'I have my faith, you
have yours. I wish to remain true to my religion.'"
MONTFORT (enraged)--"There is but one faith in the world, the Catholic
faith! All who refuse to enter the pale of the Church deserve death. If
the Lady of Lavaur should persist in her detestable creed, she will
perish in the flames of the pyre!"
KARVEL--"I know not whether you have any children. But you have a wife.
Your mother still lives or has died. Think of her, you pious servant of
the Church! Montfort, unconquerable warrior, you certainly loved your
mother?"
MONTFORT (with emotion)--"Oh, yes--I loved her dearly!"
KARVEL--"And yet you would mercilessly order a woman to be burned who
was a model of a wife, and is a model of a mother?"
MONTFORT (with a sinister smile)--"And that surprises you? You take me
for a ferocious man? Oh, my God! how can you do otherwise, seeing that
you have no faith. If you had you would understand that, on the
contrary, I act with humanity by bringing the sword and the fagot into
your country."
KARVEL--"Humanity in burning and massacring the heretics, and in
authorizing rape and butchery?"
MONTFORT--"Listen, and now it will be my turn to say: Answer with
sincerity. You have a wife, a mother, children, friends. You love them
dearly. In your country there is a province that is a permanent hot-bed
of a contagion that threatens to invade the neighboring districts, to
attack your own family, your friends and the whole population. Will you,
under such circumstances hesitate one instant to purify that corner of
your country, even if you have to do it with fire and sword? In the very
name of that humanity that you speak about, will you hesitate to
sacrifice a thousand, twenty thousand infected beings in order to save
millions of other human beings from the incurable pestilence? No! no!
You will strike, and strike hard, and strike again. Your arm would never
rest until the last one of the execrable and infected beings is dead,
and has carried the last germ of the frightful disease into his tomb.
And you will have performed an act of humanity."
KARVEL (listens to Montfort's words with increasing emotion and
intensity. For a moment he stands petrified by the sincere savagery of
the chief of the Crusade. The Perfect then cries out with painful
indignation)--"Oh, Catholic priests! Your infernal astuteness is such
that, in order to insure the triumph of your unbridled ambition, you
know how to exploit even the generous promptings of a man's heart and
turn them to your own purpose!"
MONTFORT--"What is that you say! Impious blasphemer! Retract those
infamous words!"
KARVEL--"It is not you, blind and convinced fanatic, that I accuse. You
said so, and you expressed your convictions. Yes, you consider yourself
humane. Yes, if you slay children, it is in order to despatch them to
Paradise! If you exterminate us mercilessly, it is because according to
your convictions our belief damns the souls of men forever! But, good
God, what a religion is that! It is a monstrous, a frightful prodigy! It
so wholly dethrones man's reason and upsets his sense of right and wrong
that you and your accomplices verily believe you are doing an act of
piety when you carry ferocity beyond even the bounds of possibility!"
Having finished her orisons, Alyx of Montmorency rises. She overhears
Karvel's last words, approaches the count and says to him in a tone of
mingled terror and pain while pointing her trembling finger at the
Perfect "Oh! How many souls may not that hardened sinner forever lead
astray! Let him die!"
MONTFORT (meditatively)--"I was thinking of that--there is nothing to
expect from him. (Deliberately to Karvel) Do you persist in your
heresy?"
KARVEL--"Hear, Montfort: at Chasseneuil, at Beziers, at Carcassonne, at
Termes, at Minerve, in all the places whither the Army of the Faith
carried ravage and murder, women, maids and children who escaped the
massacre and were by you condemned to the pyre, threw themselves
heroically into the flames rather than, even with their lips, accept
that Roman Church, whose base name causes us disgust and horror. The
'heresy' has passed into our blood; our children have taken it in with
their mothers' milk. Not unless you exterminate them all will you have
exterminated 'heresy' from this region. The more men, women and children
you slay, the vaster the regions of our country that you depopulate and
turn into deserts, all the more imperishable will be the monuments
raised by yourself and that will teach the next generations to execrate
your Church. The air that is breathed in this region has for centuries
been so impregnated by the breath of freedom, that breath is so pure and
penetrating, that neither the steam from the torrents of blood that you
have shed, nor yet the smoke that has gone up from the pyres that you
have lighted have been able to contaminate it. Here our ancestors have
lived in freedom; here we shall know how to live in freedom or to die;
and here our children will emulate us and remain, like ourselves,
unshackled by the Church of Rome."
While the Perfect speaks these words Montfort and his wife exchange
glances alternately expressive of indignation, horror and amazement. The
wan eyes of Alyx of Montmorency fill with tears. She clasps her hands
and addresses the count:
"Oh! My heart bleeds like the heart of the Holy Virgin! I take You for
witness, Lord God, my divine master! Strengthened by faith against the
trials that it has pleased You to afflict me with for my salvation, it
is long since I have wept. No; I have seen my father die and my second
son; I looked upon their corpses with a tranquil eye, seeing that it was
You, Oh my God, who called them unto You. To-day, however, my tears flow
when I think of the thousands of poor souls whom the abominable
preachings of this monster of perdition may cause to burn everlastingly
in hell!"
MONTFORT (weeping like the countess, whom he closes in his
arms)--"Console yourself, dear and saintly wife! Console yourself! We
shall pray for the souls that this miscreant has damned. It has pleased
the Lord to recall me to life this day. I shall prove my devout
recognition by dedicating to pious works a part of the booty that we
shall take at Lavaur. I shall establish masses for the repose of the
souls of the heretics of this city whom I shall exterminate."
The ingenious idea of masses, especially consecrated to the repose of
the souls of the heretics whom Montfort promises himself soon to put to
the sword or to consign to the flames, seems to assuage the countess's
grief. Suddenly the din of a distant tumult breaks in upon the silence
of Montfort's sick chamber. Trumpets are heard sounding from the
direction of the camp. Montfort starts, half rises on his couch, listens
and cries: "Alyx, it is the call to arms! The besieged must have made a
sally! This way, my equerries!--My armor!--Let my horse be saddled."
Thus speaking, the count rises half naked on the couch, but enfeebled by
the fever and the blood-letting, he is seized with a vertigo, his limbs
tremble under him and he drops down on the bed. In dropping, the bandage
of the arm unfastens, the recently lanced vein re-opens, and the blood
streams out anew. Karvel hastens to the side of Montfort, who lies
unconscious on the couch, and seeks to stop the flow of blood while one
of the equerries breaks precipitately into the room crying:
"Seigneur!--Seigneur!--To arms!--The camp is broken into!"
ALYX OF MONTMORENCY--"What is the meaning of these trumpet blasts? Is
there an engagement on?"
THE EQUERRY--"The Seigneurs of Lascy and Limoux were in the neighboring
room awaiting the orders of seigneur the count, when a knight rode in in
haste to notify them that a large heretic force was seeking to enter
the Castle of Lavaur under the cover of night, in order to reinforce the
garrison. Hugues of Lascy and Lambert of Limoux immediately rode off
with the knight and ordered a call to arms."
KARVEL (attending to Montfort)--"Oh! Mylio's songs have not been vain.
They have redoubled the courage of the inhabitants of Languedoc!"
A SECOND EQUERRY (enters and says to the countess)--"A messenger has
just arrived. He brings information that the heretics are fighting with
desperate courage. Abbot Reynier requests monseigneur to mount his horse
and ride forth. It will steel the courage of our troops."
ALYX OF MONTMORENCY (pointing to the count who still lies unconscious
and is being attended to by the Perfect)--"Tell the messenger of our
venerable Father, Abbot Reynier, that monseigneur lies unconscious on
his couch, and is unable to take horse--Go! (The equerry hastens out.
Alyx raises her eyes heavenward and joins her hands.) May the Almighty
watch over His elect!"
KARVEL (sadly)--"Oh! How many of our brothers will not lose their lives
in the attack!"
THE SECOND EQUERRY (re-entering)--"A soldier has just alighted from his
horse. He rode ahead of Abbot Reynier. It is said that, thanks to an
intrepid sally of the besieged who came out to the help of the forces
that sought to enter the castle, the pagans succeeded in making good
their entry into Lavaur. Many of them, however, have been killed,
wounded or taken prisoner. Lambert of Limoux and Hugues of Lascy are
bringing the prisoners to camp. Abbot Reynier is with them."
KARVEL (with great anxiety)--"Good God! If Mylio and his friend the
juggler should happen to be among the prisoners, it will be their
sentence of death."