“My daughter Rebecca, so please your Grace,” answered Isaac, with a low congee, nothing embarrassed by the Prince’s salutation, in which, however, there was at least as much mockery as courtesy.

“The wiser man thou,” said John, with a peal of laughter, in which his gay followers obsequiously joined. “But, daughter or wife, she should be preferred according to her beauty and thy merits.⁠—Who sits above there?” he continued, bending his eye on the gallery. “Saxon churls, lolling at their lazy length!⁠—out upon them!⁠—let them sit close, and make room for my prince of usurers and his lovely daughter. I’ll make the hinds know they must share the high places of the synagogue with those whom the synagogue properly belongs to.”