In the Aula at Toledo
Loudly are the trumpets blowing
To the spiritual tourney,
Gaily dress’d, the crowd are going.
This is no mere worldly combat,
Not one arm of steel here glances;
Sharply pointed and scholastic
Words are here the only lances.
Gallant Paladins here fight not,
Ladies’ honest fame defending;
Capuchins and Jewish Rabbis
Are the knights who’re here contending.
In the place of helmets are they
Scull caps and capouches wearing;
Scapular and Arbecanfess
Are the armour they are bearing.
Which God is the one true God?
He, the Hebrew stern and glorious
Unity, whom Rabbi Juda
Of Navarre would see victorious?
Or the triune God, whom Christians
Hold in love and veneration,
As whose champion Friar Jose,
The Franciscan, takes his station?
By the might of weighty reasons,
And the logic taught at college,
And quotations from the authors
Whose repute one must acknowledge,
Either champion ad absurdum
His opponent would bring duly,
And the pure divinity
Of his own God point out truly.
’Tis laid down that he whose foeman
Manages his cause to smother,
Should be bound to take upon him
The religion of the other,
And the Jew be duly christen’d,—
This was the express provision,—
On the other hand the Christian
Bear the rite of circumcision.