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 I am a dead man!
 * [He falls at  feet.

Cromwell [smiling.] Ha! what dost thou there? What devil has his teeth in thee, eh, Jew? Manasseh [beating his head against the ground. I am a dead man! Cromwell. Know'st thou who I am, Thou unclean Jew? Manasseh [in a faint voice.] Ah! 'tis in truth that hand, Of ample width to bear the whole wide world! Too well I recognize those lines whereon Heav'n doth inscribe no other name than Cromwell's. Your star did not say false. Cromwell. Hark ye, old man: You are but a poor worm, and, doubtless, I, Trying upon thy bones this polished steel,
 * [He draws his dagger.

Could in my turn make an experiment In anima vili. But I do not With my own hand a paltry earth-worm crush. Rise.

Sit thou there.

Above all, hold thy peace. One word, and hence thy soul will take its flight, And thou'lt have ample leisure to complete Thy dead men's alphabet!

This wretched Jew