Chapter 12: X

X Thus, like the sad presaging raven, that tolls The sick man’s passport in her hollow beak, And in the shadow of the silent night Doth shake contagion from her sable wings; Vex’d and tormented, runs poor Barrabas, With fatal curses towards these Christians. Jew of Malta The Disinherited Knight had no sooner reached his pavilion, than squires and pages in abundance tendered their services to disarm him, to bring fresh attire, and to offer him the refr…