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Updated: April 30, 2025
Manessa that she is in the greatest anxiety not finding Sir Josseline de Mowbray's ring on her finger, upon her return home. Her ladyship now recollects having left it in the hands of one of Mr. Manessa's shopmen, a young man she believes of the name of Jacob, the only person except Mr. Manessa, who was in the little parlour, while her ladyship and Lady Anne Mowbray were there.
At the Tower, my kneeling in raptures to the figure of the Black Prince my exaggerated expressions of enthusiasm my poetic and dramatic declamation and gesture my start of horror at Mowbray's allusion to the tapestry- chamber and the picture of Sir Josseline my horror afterwards at the auction, where Mowbray had prepared for me the sight of the picture of the Dentition of the Jew and the appearance of the figure with the terrible eyes at the synagogue; all, I now found, had been contrived or promoted by Lord Mowbray: Fowler had dressed up the figure for the purpose.
Foremost in my memory came an old picture, called "Sir Josseline going to the Holy Land," where Sir Josseline de Mowbray stood, in complete armour, pointing to a horrid figure of a prostrate Jew, on whose naked back an executioner, with uplifted whip, was prepared to inflict stripes for some shocking crime.
This picture had been painted in times when the proportions of the human figure were little attended to, and when foreshortening was not at all understood: this added to the horrible effect, for the executioner's arm and scourge were of tremendous size; Sir Josseline stood miraculously tall, and the Jew, crouching, supplicating, sprawling, was the most distorted squalid figure, eyes ever beheld, or imagination could conceive.
We were all in such a fuss, because you know mamma's so particular about Sir Josseline; and to tell you the truth, I was uncommonly anxious, because I knew if mamma was vexed and lost the ring, she would not give me a certain diamond cross, that makes me so particularly remember every circumstance and I was in such a flurry, that I know I threw down a bottle of aether that was on mamma's toilette, on her muff and it had such a horrid smell!"
Such hideous cries! that with the very noise I made, I prevented poor Mr. Montenero from hearing the answer to some historic question he was asking. Berenice's eye warned me to lower my voice, and I believe I should have been quiet, but that unluckily, Mowbray set me off in another direction, by reminding me of the tapestry-chamber and Sir Josseline.
I declare I was so terrified, I didn't know one house from another. But when I saw Mr. Harrington, I was so delighted I never thought about it's being the Jew's house and what matter?" "What matter!" repeated Lady de Brantefield: "are you my daughter, and a descendant of Sir Josseline de Mowbray, and ask what matter?" "Dear mamma, that's the old story! that's so long ago!
"I'll go no higher," said Lady de Brantefield; "you may let it be knocked down to that person, Colonel." Then turning to her son, "Who is the man that bids against me?" "A Jewish gentleman, ma'am, I believe." "A Jew, perhaps gentleman, I deny; no Jew ever was or ever will be a gentleman. I am sure our family, since the time of Sir Josseline, have had reason enough to know that."
"It will be a companion to the old family picture of the Jew and Sir Josseline," continued Mowbray; "and this will make the vile daub, which I've had the luck to pick up, invaluable to my mother, and I trust very valuable to me." "There! Christie has it up! The dear rascal! hear him puff it!"
First, I thought he suspected me of what I most detested, the affectation of taste, sensibility, and enthusiasm; next, I fancied that Mowbray, in explaining about the tapestry-chamber, Sir Josseline, and the bastinadoed Jew, had said something that might have hurt Mr. Montenero's Jewish pride.
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