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The Poems of Emma Lazarus Volume II Part 44

The Poems of Emma Lazarus - BestLightNovel.com

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"In our Talmud it stands written, Thrice curst is the tongue of slander, Poisoning also with its victim, Him who speaks and him who listens."

But no whit abashed, Pedrillo, "What care I for curse of Talmud?

'T is no slander to speak evil Of the murderers of our Saviour.

"To your beard I will repeat it, That I only bide my manhood, To wreak all my lawful hatred, On thyself and on thy people."

Very gently spoke the Rabbi, "Have a care, my son Pedrillo, Thou art orphaned, and who knoweth But thy father loved this people?"

"Think you words like these will touch me?

Such I laugh to scorn, sir Rabbi, From high heaven, my sainted father On my deeds will smile in blessing.

"Loyal knight was he and n.o.ble, And my mother oft a.s.sures me, Ne'er she saw so pure a Christian, 'T is from him my zeal deriveth."

"What if he were such another As myself who stand before thee?"

"I should curse the hour that bore me, I should die of shame and horror."

"Harsher is thy creed than ours; For had I a son as comely As Pedrillo, I would love him, Love him were he thrice a Christian.

"In his youth my youth renewing Pamper, fondle, die to serve him, Only breathing through his spirit-- Couldst thou not love such a father?"

Faltering spoke the deep-voiced Rabbi, With white lips and twitching fingers, Then in clear, young, steady treble, Answered him the boy Pedrillo:

"At the thought my heart revolteth, All your tribe offend my senses, They're an eyesore to my vision, And a stench unto my nostrils.

"When I meet these unbelievers, With thick lips and eagle noses, Thus I scorn them, thus revile them, Thus I spit upon their garment."

And the haughty youth pa.s.sed onward, Bearing on his wrist his parrot, And the yellow-skirted Rabbi With bowed head sought Donna Clara.

III.

FRA PEDRO.

Golden lights and lengthening shadows, Flings the splendid sun declining, O'er the monastery garden Rich in flower, fruit and foliage.

Through the avenue of nut trees, Pace two grave and ghostly friars, Snowy white their gowns and girdles, Black as night their cowls and mantles.

Lithe and ferret-eyed the younger, Black his scapular denoting A lay brother; his companion Large, imperious, towers above him.

'T is the abbot, great Fra Pedro, Famous through all Saragossa For his quenchless zeal in crus.h.i.+ng Heresy amidst his townfolk.

Handsome still with hood and tonsure, E'en as when the boy Pedrillo, Insolent with youth and beauty, Who reviled the gentle Rabbi.

Lo, the level sun strikes sparkles From his dark eyes brightly flas.h.i.+ng.

Stern his voice: "These too shall perish.

I have vowed extermination.

"Tell not me of skill or virtue, Filial love or woman's beauty-- Jews are Jews, as serpents serpents, In themselves abomination."

Earnestly the other pleaded, "If my zeal, thrice reverend master, E'er afforded thee a.s.sistance, Serving thee as flesh serves spirit,

"Hounding, scourging, flaying, burning, Casting into chains or exile, At thy bidding these vile wretches, Hear and heed me now, my master.

"These be nowise like their brethren, Ben Jehudah is accounted Saragossa's first physician, Loved by colleague as by patient.

"And his daughter Donna Zara Is our city's pearl of beauty, Like the cl.u.s.ters of the vineyard Droop the ringlets o'er her temples.

"Like the moon in starry heavens s.h.i.+nes her face among her people, And her form hath all the languor, Grace and glamour of the palm-tree.

"Well thou knowest, thrice reverend master, This is not their first affliction, Was it not our Holy Office Whose bribed menials fired their dwelling?

"Ere dawn broke, the smoke ascended, Choked the stairways, filled the chambers, Waked the household to the terror Of the flaming death that threatened.

"Then the poor bed-ridden mother Knew her hour had come; two daughters, Twinned in form, and mind, and spirit, And their father--who would save them?

"Towards her door sprang Ben Jehudah, Donna Zara flew behind him Round his neck her white arms wreathing, Drew him from the burning chamber.

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The Poems of Emma Lazarus Volume II Part 44 summary

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