In this dramatic monologue, the legendary Wandering Jew — cursed to live forever — unleashes a furious address to God, the “Eternal Triune.” Desperate and seething with rage, he dares the Almighty to destroy him: by lightning, by the sword, by annihilation itself. When that destruction doesn’t arrive, his tone sharpens into savage mockery. He rattles off Old Testament disasters — the plague that decimated Israel’s foes, the earthquake that swallowed Korah’s rebels, the fiery sword that exiled Adam and Eve from Eden — not as awe-filled memories but as taunts flung at a tyrant whose “foreknown, foredoomed” creatures never had a fair chance. Longing to drain the cup of divine hate and finally meet oblivion, the speaker’s voice is volcanic: a bitter, unrepentant howl that mingles suicidal yearning with fierce contempt. The mood is dark and chaotic, pulsing with the torment of a being who can neither live in hope nor find release.
The Wandering Jew's Soliloquy — Summary
Is it the Eternal Triune, is it He Who dares arrest the wheels of destiny And plunge me in the lowest Hell of Hells? Will not the lightning's blast destroy my frame? Will not steel drink the blood-life where it swells? No--let me hie where dark Destruction dwells, To rouse her from her deeply caverned lair, And, taunting her cursed sluggishness to ire, Light long Oblivion's death-torch at its flame And calmly mount Annihilation's pyre. Tyrant of Earth! pale Misery's jackal Thou! Are there no stores of vengeful violent fate Within the magazines of Thy fierce hate? No poison in the clouds to bathe a brow That lowers on Thee with desperate contempt? Where is the noonday Pestilence that slew The myriad sons of Israel's favoured nation? Where the destroying Minister that flew Pouring the fiery tide of desolation Upon the leagued Assyrian's attempt? Where the dark Earthquake-daemon who engorged At the dread word Korah's unconscious crew? Or the Angel's two-edged sword of fire that urged Our primal parents from their bower of bliss (Reared by Thine hand) for errors not their own By Thine omniscient mind foredoomed, foreknown? Yes! I would court a ruin such as this, Almighty Tyrant! and give thanks to Thee-- Drink deeply--drain the cup of hate; remit this--I may die.