When Cardinal Ippolito had taken leave, and the last glimpse of his scarlet tippet had been seen as his little cavalcade wound out of sight, Giulia found her remaining guests very stale, flat, and unprofitable; and when they too had departed, she became exceedingly listless and peevish; very much in the mood of little children in the nursery, when they weary their nurses with "I don't know what to do!"

To do Giulia justice, it must be admitted that this mood was not habitual to her. Naturally sweet-tempered, and highly cultivated, she had too many resources within herself to be accustomed to find her time hang heavy on her hands. She could sing, play, and paint; she was skilful at her needle; she wrote very tolerable sonnets, and corresponded with many of the most celebrated people of the day. She was praised without insincerity by men whose names are still honoured among us. And yet she was just now in that vapid frame when one exclaims—"Man delighteth me not, nor woman either;" in that longing for some unknown, unattainable good which made St. Anselm say—"Libera me, Domine, a isto misero homine meipso!"

So she leant her head on her hand and shed a few tears: then, fancying she must be sickening of marsh miasma, she sent for Bar Hhasdai.

The physician, perceiving that there was nothing the matter with her, began to tell her, incidentally as it were, while he felt her pulse, of the grief of the Adimari family, whose son had been carried off by Barbarossa. The Duchess became interested in their sorrows, and forgot her imaginary ailments. She consulted with him how she might console them and relieve other bereaved persons.

"Surely," said she, looking at his hand, "I have seen that ruby worn by Cardinal Ippolito?"

"He gave it me but yesterday," said Bar Hhasdai, "in return for two manuscripts of not half the value; whereon I sent him another really rare, and worthy of a place in the Vatican library."

"You were determined not to be outdone by him in generosity, it seems," said Giulia. "He told me he had held a very interesting conversation with you about your own people. Tell me, Bar Hhasdai, is it really true that you Jews mingle the blood of a Christian child with your unleavened bread at Passover time?"

"It is false, most scandalously false," replied Bar Hhasdai, "and only invented by the Christians to colour their own outrages upon us. You might as well ask, if there were any truth in the old story of there being a magical brazen head in the castle of Tavora, which, on the approach of any one of our race, would exclaim, 'A Jew is in Tavora!' and, on his departure, 'The Jew is now out of Tavora!' O lady! revolting are the accusations that have been raised against us!—of our crucifying children, drinking their blood, and burning their hearts to ashes. Sometimes our people have been tortured till their agonies have wrung from them false confessions, which afterwards have been disproved; as in the case of the brothers Onkoa, who, in the reign of one of the Alonsos, were accused of stealing two of the king's golden vessels, and by torture were induced to confess it, in consequence of which they were hanged. Yet, three days after, the vessels were found in the possession of one of the king's own servants."

"I have always held torture," said Giulia, "to be a very uncertain as well as cruel test."

"Alonso quoted what I have related, as a case in point," said Bar Hhasdai, "when certain Jews were accused of secreting the dead body of a Christian, which, after all, turned out to have been cast into the house of one of them by his Christian debtor, who owed him a sum of money he had no mind to repay. Thus have obloquy and contumely been heaped upon us, without our having the power to avenge ourselves; for the Lord hath forgotten His footstool in the day of His wrath."

"Who or what do you call His footstool?"

"In a general sense, the whole earth; but in a more particular one, Jerusalem."

"Since you admit that God has forgotten you, you must submit to your judicial punishment."

"Lady, it is hard! Easy to say, but hard to do. The only consolation is in knowing that a good time is coming, when we shall—when the Gentiles themselves shall speed us to our city, even carrying us on their shoulders."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Literally!" said Bar Hhasdai. "But I do not expect to live to see it."

"You are yet young——"

"Ah, no! I am very old, and worn out with a life of trouble."

"Tell me the story of your life," said the Duchess, with interest. "Tell me how you came to leave Spain."

"Will you listen to me?" said Bar Hhasdai. "Then you shall hear. In the month Abib, or, as you would say, in March, in the year 5052, or according to your reckoning 1492, a decree was passed that every Jew should quit Arragon, Castile, and Granada, on pain of death and confiscation. By a refinement in injustice, we were forbidden to take out of the country plate, jewels, or coin: we must convert all our possessions into bills of exchange. As our enemies would not buy of us till the last moment, and then at a prodigious discount, you may conceive the way in which we were pillaged, often reduced to exchange a good house for an ass, or a field or vineyard for a few yards of cloth.

"When the royal proclamation was announced, Abarbanel the Jew happened to be at court. He entered the king's presence, and cast himself before him on his face, exclaiming, 'Regard us, O king! Use not thy faithful servants with so much cruelty! Exact from us everything we possess, rather than banish us from what has now become our country!' But it was all in vain. At the king's right hand sat the queen, who was the Jews' enemy, and who urged him with an angry voice to carry through what he had so happily commenced. We left no effort untried to obtain a reversal of the king's sentence; but without effect. Baptism was the only alternative. I am sorry to say, there were some who submitted to it, rather than forsake their homes. Home is dear; but it may be purchased too dearly. More noble were those eight hundred thousand Sephardim who forsook house and hearth, garden, field, and vineyard, the synagogues and the burial-places of their fathers, and, on foot and unarmed, collected together from every province, young and old, infants and women, noble examples of passive endurance, to go whither the Lord should lead them! Of that number was I; and with God for our guide we set out——

"Do I tire you?"

"O no!——Go on."

"About twenty thousand of us took refuge in Portugal, where they were admitted, pro tempore, on payment of eight golden ducats per head: but, if they remained beyond a certain day, they were sentenced to slavery. The frontiers were lined with tax-gatherers, to exact the poll-tax.

"The majority of us embarked at the different ports, where brutal ship-masters exacted enormous sums for their passage, and, in many cases, burned or wrecked their vessels when at sea, escaping themselves in their boats, and leaving the unhappy Jews to perish.

"The crew of the ship in which I, a young child, was, rose to murder us, for the sake, as they averred, of avenging the death of Christ; but a Christian merchant on board told them that Christ died to save men, not to destroy them. So they altered their purpose, stripped us, and set us on a barren coast, under a blazing sun, where they left us to perish. We found a spring of fresh water, at which we slaked our thirst; but food we had none. At night, some of our party were devoured by lions. Five days we remained in this wretched state: we were then picked up by the crew of a passing ship, who tore up old sails to clothe us, gave us food, and carried us to a port. The people of that place inquired whether they had brought us for sale. The ship-master nobly answered 'No!' and delivered us to our brethren in the city, who gladly reimbursed him for our expenses, and united with us in praying that he might live to a good old age."

"You see there are some good Christians among us," interrupted the Duchess.

"Certainly," said the Jew. "But the majority of them were against us: nor did we experience any better treatment from the Moors. At Fez the gates were closed against the Jews, who, beneath a burning sun, could find nothing but grass to eat, and miserably perished. Many hundred children were sold into slavery. One mother was known to strike her expiring child on the head with a stone, and then breathe her last on his dead body. Two hundred widows dwelt together in Barbary, labouring diligently with their hands, and sharing all things in common. Many of these women had been separated from their husbands by cruel circumstances, but knew not whether they were dead or alive. A pestilence broke out among the Jews, who filled nine caravels bound for Naples. On landing there the disease communicated itself to the inhabitants, and swept off twenty thousand of them. At Genoa, the citizens met our people with bread in one hand and the crucifix in the other. Their choice lay between baptism and starvation."

"I cannot wonder," said the Duchess, after a pause, "that you are prejudiced against our religion, for you have seen it under false colours, but I hope the time will come when those prejudices may wear off."

"I hope it may," said the physician, equivocally; and he changed the subject.

The little Vespasiano Gonzaga, who, on the death of the Duke of Sabbionetta, came into Giulia's guardianship at eight years old, in after times was very liberal to the Jews. He granted them a licence to establish a Hebrew press at Sabbionetta, from which issued several editions of the Pentateuch, Psalter, and Hebrew commentaries.[7]