An attempt was made to induce the king to forego his purpose. The celebrated Isaac Abarbanel[156] was at the time high in his confidence and favour. He threw himself at Ferdinand’s feet, and offered, in the name of his people, no less than 30,000 ducats, as the price of their continuance in Spain. So large a sum tempted Ferdinand, who was at all times avaricious, and was at that moment greatly in need of money. He wavered, and might perhaps have revoked his edict, if Torquemada, who had heard of the offer, had not burst into the presence-chamber, holding a crucifix in his hand. ‘Behold,’ he cried, ‘Him whom Judas sold for thirty pieces of silver! Sell Him again, if you will, and render an account of the bargain to God!’ Isabella also took part against the Jews. It may well be, that the notion of being bribed to forego her duty roused an indignation which she would not otherwise have felt. Any way, the offer was rejected, and the miserable Jews had to set about making the best provision they could against the approaching day of exile. They were allowed to sell their landed property and houses, but only, of course, at an enormous disadvantage. Bernaldes states that he saw Jews give a house in exchange for an ass, and a vineyard for a small bale of cloth, purchasers continually holding off from completing a bargain, which they knew they must ultimately get on their own terms. They were forbidden to carry away with them gold or silver; but we are told that they contrived to secrete large quantities of it in the saddles and halters of their horses. Some even swallowed it, and it is said, in some instances, to the amount of thirty ducats! The rich Jews paid the expenses of their poorer brethren,[157] practising towards each other the greatest charity. At the beginning of July, they set out on their mournful journey to the seaports, old and young, rich and poor, a long and melancholy _cortége_. The Rabbins, we are told, encouraged them, and engaged musicians to play, and bade the boys and girls sing, so as to keep up the spirits of the wayfarers. But the mirth must have been forced and hollow. Their fathers could not sing the Lord’s song while compelled to dwell in a strange land—how should they sing it when forced to leave their own?