The Hebrew Will Turn Christian; He Grows

A Pox O’ Your Throat, You Bawling, Blasphemous, Incharitable Dog!

For Who So Firm That Cannot Be Seduced?

These Signs Have Marked Me Extraordinary, And All The Courses Of My Life Do Show I Am Not In The Roll Of Common Men.

The Cheek Is Apter Than The Tongue To Tell An Errand.

I Can Counterfeit The Deep Tragedian; Speak And Look Back, And Pry On Every Side, Tremble And Start, At Wagging Of A Straw, Intending Deep Suspicion.