defiled by your practice of every vice. ye are a factious crew. ye are a pack of wretches and sell your country for a mess of pottage and betray your god for a few pieces of money. is there a single virtue remaining amongst you? is there one vice you do not possess? you have no more religion than my horse. gold is your god. is there a man amongst you that has the least care for the good of the commonwealth? ye sordid prostitutes. have you not defiled this sacred place and turned the lord's temple into a den of thieves by your immoral principles and wicked practices? ye have grown intotalbly odious to the whole nation. depart, i say, and let us have done with you. in the name of god, go.