"I have no more money to give thee."
"Then I must bid the tormentor visit thee again. Thy race is accursed, and I cannot offer a better burnt-offering to Heaven than a Jew."
"Mercy, Baron! I have borne so much already."
"Mercy is to be bought: the price is a thousand marks of gold."
"I have not a hundred."
"Osric," said Brian; and gave his squire instructions to fetch the tormentor.
"We will spare thee the grate yet awhile; but I have another plan in view. Coupe-gorge, canst thou draw teeth?"
"Yes," said the tormentor, grinning, who had come at Osric's bidding.
"Then bring me a tooth from the mouth of this Nathan every day until his ransom arrive. Nathan, thou mayst write home—a letter for each tooth." And with a merry laugh they passed on to the other dungeons.
There was one who shared his cell with toads and adders, introduced for his discomfort; another round whose neck and throat a hideous thing called a sachentage was fastened. It was thus made: it was fastened to a beam, and had a sharp iron to go round a man's neck and throat, so that he might nowise sit or lie or sleep, but he bore all the iron.