A _lac_ of lost rupees might make
The loser cry, "_alack!_"
But think upon their grief who're robb'd
Of gold, and by the sack!
And what a dust they did kick up
To get their _gold dust_ back!
To rob two British merchants thus
Did wicked Jews combine;
They knew that gold dust had arriv'd,
And what house did consign:
Said each, "Since from the _mine_ it comes,
I'll make some of it _mine_!"
With firm right-hand a bad Clerk forg'd
The write-hand of the Firm:
The Customs gave the box (where was
Reflection, then, O _Sturm_!)
And all the bags of gold, inside,
Were bagg'd, like briefs in Term.
They cabb'd the booty all away,
That boots might leave no tracks;
Then lugg'd the sacks out, one by one,
And laid them on their backs:
And marshall'd them all in a row,
Like troops of Marshal Saxe!
They hid them in the pot-house low
Of Moses—"fence," and "do;"
For wealth amass'd, 'tis doubtful how,
Call'd "_Money_ Moses," too;
The world gave him that _Christian_ name,
Because he was a _Jew_!
Now _Moses_ had a daughter, dark,
A damsel all discreet,
He gave the gold into her _hands_,
And she perform'd the _feat_
Of selling it to a goldsmith Jew,
Another wicked cheat!
Into the goldsmith's crucible
The bag of ore she thrust;
Then, as the dust dissolv'd, she cried,
"Come, down, now, with _your_ dust!"
And he, all in the _melting_ mood,
Said, "I suppose I must."
At once some _pounds_ for every _ounce_
He paid upon the spot;
A shining ingot soon was turn'd
Out of the melting-pot.
A precious scrape the Jew _got in_,
All through that same _ingot_.
For 'mong the thieves divisions rose,
Like vinegar with oil,
They disagreed—for one would still
The other rob and foil:
And all their deep-laid schemes were _spoil'd_
In sharing out the _spoil_.
At last, of their dissentient rows,
A '_peach_ became the _fruit_,
One Jew, in jew-rious, blabb'd about
The dust and the dispute:
The gang were taken, and the law
Fell _cute_ to prosecute.
Then Moses, goldsmith, damsel, clerk,
Into their pickle fell;
They found they were no sooner _sold_
Than clapp'd into a _cell_:
From which not one of them could _bolt_,
While bolted in so well!
At last the trial did come on,
The Court was in a throng,
The _Evidence_ against them all
Was _heavy, dense_, and strong;
Guilty the _Ju_-ry found the _Jews_,
And so might end my song:—
But no; the lawyers found a flaw,
To keep the law at bay—
Not Bot'ny-bay—the way by which
They should be sent away—
So one or two, _by getting off_,
May still in London _stay_.
Now all the Culprits' fates depend
On what the Judges choose;
To sin-a-gain, not Synagogue,
Their liberty they'd use:
So England hopes her Judges wont
Emancipate the Jews!