“And you mean literally to revive the Temple ritual and everything connected with it?”
“Why not? We hef de priests, de sons off Aaron, we hef de secrifices in abundance, we hef de silfer and de golt, we hef at last de right to our own land. How could we dare delay, lest punishment come upon us for our sleckness?”
Cyril shook his head. “You are frightfully ill-advised,” he said. “A temple, with sacrifices and all the other accompaniments of ancient Jewish worship, in the very midst of the holy places of Christendom, will revolt the world. It will unite all your enemies against you, and give them a tremendous power for mischief.”
“How long hef we been refolted by de idols set up in de midst off our holy places? Let de Chentiles taste a little off de treatment dey hef gifen us. We are not afraid off what dey can do. We hef our rights guaranteed to us by de man raised up to help us. We are not dependent on de goodwill off Christendom.”
“You would find it safer to be dependent upon a number of powers than on one despot. Their mutual jealousies might hinder their uniting against you, but he has only himself to please.”
“Gif us only our guaranteed sefen years, and we shell be too stronk for any despot on earth to attack us.”
“Only seven years? I didn’t know your guarantee was limited. Well, if Malasorte leaves you undisturbed for the full seven years, he is not the man I think him.”
“Count! Count! after all your noble worrk for our great cause, are you become a prophet off efil against us?”
“Buona sorte, mala fede,” quoted Cyril. “Even supposing that Timoleon V. has the best will in the world towards you, he has to think of his other friends. The Vatican and the Jesuits have got nothing yet for their support, and you think it a good opportunity to outrage their tenderest susceptibilities and exhibit an alien religion, possessing immense wealth, established at Jerusalem!”
“But why should det signify to dem?”