Classic Poem

  Jew. M Y Lord, I live here in perpetual fear;
My only friend being gold. Five times already
I 've bought this wintered body from the flames;
As oft repeals from exile. Scorn I endure,
And hatred bear, from all. Were I but poor,
I should be trod on like the common dust,
Gibbeted, tortured;—I must keep my gold!
It is my arms,—my shield. The Christian wolves
Would worry me, did I not cast them down
The yellow bait, which bids them say “Dog,—Jew!
“Live, till we come to-morrow!”
  Rod. You could lend
Count Gomez on his bond—how much I know not—
But twenty times the weight I ask of thee.
  Jew. He 's an——Inquisitor, (doth no one hear?)
Hath power;—can help me, crush me. When they drag me,
Blindfold and shaking, through the horrid dark,
'Tis sweet, as I go down the dungeon steps,
And thro' the long cold silent vaulted places,
To think I have a friend who 's judge to-night,
Whom gold has bought, and gold can ever buy.
So, when I 'm questioned, I reply with tears,
And humble prayers, and swear I 've made a vow,
To give in Christian alms a thousand ducats,
And straight—my cords are loosened!