THE MONK. The Jew! Oft have men seen him bent and worn,
When darkness fills the earth, still wandering,
Still living out his curse.
THE PEASANT. List! Hear ye not?
THE SOLDIER. Again that mournful wailing of the wind.
THE PEASANT. How came he by the curse?
THE MONK. Know, when our Lord,
Full weary, bore his cross to Calvary,
He paused a moment, resting, but this Jew,
Ahasuerus—cursed be the name—
Reviled the Saviour, and commanded him
To move away. Whereon our blessed Lord:
"Because thou grudgest me a moment's rest
Unresting shalt thou wander o'er the earth
Until I come."
THE SOLDIER. Ah, would I had been there—
The cursed Jew! An arrow through his heart
Had stopped his babbling!
THE PEASANT. And had I been there,
He would have felt the weight of my great fist
Ere he had spoken twice.
[The Jew mutters indistinctly to himself in his corner.]
THE MERCHANT [in a low voice]. Dost hear the man?
Old gray-beard murmurs.
THE SOLDIER. How! Is he a Jew?