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Chapter 7

           "BythebaldscalpofAbraham,"saidPrinceJohn,"yonderJewessmustbetheverymodelofthatperfection,whosecharmsdrovefranticthewisestkingthateverlived!Whatsayestthou,PriorAymer?—BytheTempleofthatwiseking,whichourwiserbrotherRichardprovedunabletorecover,sheistheveryBrideoftheCanticles!"

           "TheRoseofSharonandtheLilyoftheValley,"—answeredthePrior,inasortofsnufflingtone;"butyourGracemustremembersheisstillbutaJewess."

           "Ay!"addedPrinceJohn,withoutheedinghim,"andthereismyMammonofunrighteousnesstoo—theMarquisofMarks,theBaronofByzants,contestingforplacewithpennilessdogs,whosethreadbarecloakshavenotasinglecrossintheirpouchestokeepthedevilfromdancingthere.BythebodyofStMark,myprinceofsupplies,withhislovelyJewess,shallhaveaplaceinthegallery!—Whatisshe,Isaac?Thywifeorthydaughter,thatEasternhourithatthoulockestunderthyarmasthouwouldstthytreasure-casket?"

           "MydaughterRebecca,sopleaseyourGrace,"answeredIsaac,withalowcongee,nothingembarrassedbythePrince’ssalutation,inwhich,however,therewasatleastasmuchmockeryascourtesy.

           "Thewisermanthou,"saidJohn,withapealoflaughter,inwhichhisgayfollowersobsequiouslyjoined."But,daughterorwife,sheshouldbepreferredaccordingtoherbeautyandthymerits.—Whositsabovethere?"hecontinued,bendinghiseyeonthegallery.

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