Some of the Moors themselves stood aside and watched, but at a distance, leaving a vacant space to denote the distinction between them.

The scribes sat in their open booths, pretending to read their Koran or to write with their reed pens; the gunsmiths stood at their shop-doors; and the country Berbers, crowded out of their usual camping ground on the Sok, squatted on the vacant spots adjacent.

All looked on eagerly, but apparently impassively, at the vast company of Jews.
And so great was the concourse of these people, and so wild their commotion, that they were like nothing else but a sea-broken by tempestuous winds.

The market-place rang as a vault with the sounds of their voices, their harsh cries, their protests, their pleadings, their entreaties, and all the fury of their brazen throats.

And out of their loud uproar one name above all other names rose in the air on every side.