Act II
[SCENE I.][498]
Enter BARABAS with a light.
Bar. Thus, like the sad presaging raven, that tolls The sick man’s passport in her hollow beak, And in the shadow of the silent night Doth shake contagion from her sable wings, Vex’d and tormented runs poor Barabas 5 With fatal curses towards these Christians. The incertain pleasures of swift-footed Time Have ta’en their flight, and left me in despair; And of my former riches rests no more But bare remembrance, like a soldier’s scar, 10 That has no further comfort for his maim. O thou, that with a fiery pillar led’st The sons of Israel through the dismal shades, Light Abraham’s offspring, and direct the hand Of Abigail this night; or let the day 15 Turn to eternal darkness after this! No sleep can fasten on my watchful eyes, Nor quiet enter my distemper’d thoughts, Till I have answer of my Abigail.
Enter ABIGAIL, above.
Abig. Now have I happily espi’d a time 20 To search the plank my father did appoint; And here behold, unseen, where I have found The gold, the pearls, and jewels, which he hid.
Bar. Now I remember those old women’s words, 24 Who in my wealth[499] would tell me winter’s tales, And speak of spirits and ghosts that glide by night About the place where treasure hath been hid: And now methinks that I am one of those; For whilst I live, here lives my soul’s sole hope, And, when I die, here shall my spirit walk. 30
Abig. Now that my father’s fortune were so good As but to be about this happy place! ’T is not so happy: yet when we parted last, He said he would attend me in the morn. Then, gentle sleep, where’er his body rests, 35 Give charge to Morpheus that he may dream A golden dream, and of the sudden walk,[500] Come and receive the treasure I have found.
Bar. Bueno para todos mi ganado no era.[501] As good go on as sit so sadly thus. 40 But stay, what star shines yonder in the east? The loadstar of my life, if Abigail. Who’s there?
Abig. Who’s that?
Bar. Peace, Abigail, ’t is I.
Abig. Then, father, here receive thy happiness.
Bar. Hast thou ’t? She throws down bags.
Abig. Here, hast thou ’t? There’s more, and more, and more. 45
Bar. O my girl, My gold, my fortune, my felicity! Strength to my soul, death to mine enemy! Welcome the first beginner of my bliss! 50 O Abigail, Abigail, that I had thee here too! Then my desires were fully satisfied: But I will practise thy enlargement thence. O girl! O gold! O beauty! O my bliss! Hugs his bags.
Abig. Father, it draweth towards midnight now, 55 And ’bout this time the nuns begin to wake; To shun suspicion, therefore, let us part.
Bar. Farewell, my joy, and by my fingers take A kiss from him that sends it from his soul. [Exit ABIGAIL, above.] Now Phœbus ope the eyelids of the day, 60 And for the raven wake the morning lark, That I may hover with her in the air; Singing o’er these, as she does o’er her young, Hermoso placer de los dineros.[502] Exit.
[SCENE II.][503]
Enter Governor [FERNEZE], DEL BOSCO, and Knights.
Fern. Now, captain, tell us whither thou art bound? Whence is thy ship that anchors in our road? And why thou cam’st ashore without our leave?
Bosc. Governor of Malta, hither am I bound; My Ship, The Flying Dragon, is of Spain, 5 And so am I: del Bosco is my name; Vice-admiral unto the Catholic King.
1 Knight. ’T is true, my lord, therefore entreat him well.
Bosc. Our fraught[504] is Grecians, Turks, and Afric Moors. For late upon the coast of Corsica, 10 Because we vail’d[505] not to the [Turkish][506] fleet, Their creeping galleys had us in the chase: But suddenly the wind began to rise, And then we luff’d and tack’d[507] and fought at ease: Some have we fir’d, and many have we sunk; 15 But one amongst the rest became our prize. The captain’s slain, the rest remain our slaves, Of whom we would make sale in Malta here.
Fern. Martin del Bosco, I have heard of thee: Welcome to Malta, and to all of us; 20 But to admit a sale of these thy Turks We may not, nay, we dare not give consent By reason of a tributary league.
1 Knight. Del Bosco, as thou lov’st and honour’st us, Persuade our governor against the Turk; 25 This truce we have is but in hope of gold, And with that sum he craves might we wage war.
Bosc. Will Knights of Malta be in league with Turks, And buy it basely too for sums of gold? My lord, remember that, to Europe’s shame, 30 The Christian Isle of Rhodes, from whence you came, Was lately lost, and you were stated[508] here To be at deadly enmity with Turks.
Fern. Captain, we know it, but our force is small.
Bosc. What is the sum that Calymath requires? 35
Fern. A hundred thousand crowns.
Bosc. My lord and king hath title to this isle, And he means quickly to expel you hence; Therefore be rul’d by me, and keep the gold. I’ll write unto his majesty for aid, 40 And not depart until I see you free.
Fern. On this condition shall thy Turks be sold. Go, officers, and set them straight in show. [Exeunt Officers.] Bosco, thou shalt be Malta’s general; We and our warlike Knights will follow thee 45 Against these barbarous misbelieving Turks.
Bosc. So shall you imitate those you succeed: For when their hideous force environ’d Rhodes, Small though the number was that kept the town, They fought it out, and not a man surviv’d 50 To bring the hapless news to Christendom.
Fern. So will we fight it out. Come, let’s away! Proud daring Calymath, instead of gold, We ’ll send thee bullets wrapt in smoke and fire. Claim tribute where thou wilt, we are resolv’d, Honour is bought with blood and not with gold. 56 Exeunt.
[SCENE III.][509]
Enter Officers with [ITHAMORE and other] Slaves.
1 Off. This is the market-place, here let ’em stand: Fear not their sale, for they ’ll be quickly bought.
2 Off. Every one’s price is written on his back, And so much must they yield or not be sold.
1 Off. Here comes the Jew; had not his goods been seiz’d, 5 He ’d give us present money for them all.
Enter BARABAS.
Bar. In spite of these swine-eating Christians,— Unchosen nation, never circumcis’d, Such as (poor villains!) were ne’er thought upon, Till Titus and Vespasian conquer’d us,— 10 Am I become as wealthy as I was. They hop’d my daughter would ha’ been a nun; But she ’s at home, and I have bought a house As great and fair as is the governor’s; And there in spite of Malta will I dwell, 15 Having Ferneze’s hand, whose heart I ’ll have; Ay, and his son’s too, or it shall go hard. I am not of the tribe of Levi, I, That can so soon forget an injury. 19 We Jews can fawn like spaniels when we please; And when we grin we bite, yet are our looks As innocent and harmless as a lamb’s. I learn’d in Florence how to kiss my hand, Heave up my shoulders when they call me dog, And duck as low as any barefoot friar; 25 Hoping to see them starve upon a stall, Or else be gather’d for in our synagogue, That, when the offering-basin comes to me, Even for charity I may spit into ’t. Here comes Don Lodowick, the governor’s son, One that I love for his good father’s sake. 31
Enter LODOWICK.
Lod. I hear the wealthy Jew walked this way. I’ll seek him out, and so insinuate, That I may have a sight of Abigail; For Don Mathias tells me she is fair. 35
Bar. [Aside.] Now will I show myself To have more of the serpent than the dove; This is—more knave than fool.
Lod. Yond’ walks the Jew; now for fair Abigail.
Bar. [Aside.] Ay, ay, no doubt but she’s at your command. 40
Lod. Barabas, thou know’st I am the governor’s son.
Bar. I would you were his father, too, sir: That ’s all the harm I wish you. [Aside.] The slave looks Like a hog’s-cheek new singed.
Lod. Whither walk’st thou, Barabas? 45
Bar. No further: ’t is a custom held with us, That when we speak with Gentiles like to you, We turn into the air to purge ourselves: For unto us the promise doth belong.
Lod. Well, Barabas, canst help me to a diamond? 50
Bar. O, sir, your father had my diamonds. Yet I have one left that will serve your turn:— I mean my daughter: but ere he shall have her I ’ll sacrifice her on a pile of wood. I ha’ the poison of the city for him, 55 And the white leprosy. Aside.
Lod. What sparkle does it give without a foil?[510]
Bar. The diamond that I talk of ne’er was foil’d:—[511] [Aside.] But when he touches it, it will be foil’d:— Lord Lodowick, it sparkles bright and fair. 60
Lod. Is it square or pointed, pray let me know.
Bar. Pointed it is, good sir—but not for you. Aside.
Lod. I like it much the better.
Bar. So do I too.
Lod. How shows it by night?
Bar. Outshines Cynthia’s rays: —You ’ll like it better far o’ nights than days. Aside. 65
Lod. And what ’s the price?
Bar. [Aside.] Your life an if you have it.—O my lord, We will not jar about the price; come to my house And I will give ’t your honour—with a vengeance. Aside.
Lod. No, Barabas, I will deserve it first. 70
Bar. Good sir, Your father has deserv’d it at my hands, Who, of mere charity and Christian ruth, To bring me to religious purity, And as it were in catechising sort, 75 To make me mindful of my mortal sins, Against my will, and whether I would or no, Seiz’d all I had, and thrust me out o’ doors, And made my house a place for nuns most chaste.
Lod. No doubt your soul shall reap the fruit of it. 80
Bar. Ay, but, my lord, the harvest is far off. And yet I know the prayers of those nuns And holy friars, having money for their pains, Are wondrous;—and indeed do no man good—Aside. And seeing they are not idle, but still doing, 85 ’Tis likely they in time may reap some fruit, I mean in fulness of perfection.
Lod. Good Barabas, glance[512] not at our holy nuns.
Bar. No, but I do it through a burning zeal,— Hoping ere long to set the house afire; 90 For though they do a while increase and multiply I ’ll have a saying to that nunnery.—Aside. As for the diamond, sir, I told you of, Come home and there ’s no price shall make us part, Even for your honourable father’s sake.— 95 It shall go hard but I will see your death.—Aside. But now I must be gone to by a slave.
Lod. And, Barabas, I ’ll bear thee company.
Bar. Come then—here ’s the market-place. What ’s the price of this slave? Two hundred crowns! 100 Do the Turks weigh so much?
1 Off. Sir, that ’s his price.
Bar. What, can he steal that you demand so much? Belike he has some new trick for a purse; And if he has, he is worth three hundred plates,[513] So that, being bought, the town-seal might be got 105 To keep him for his lifetime from the gallows. The sessions day is critical to thieves, And few or none ’scape but by being purg’d.
Lod. Rat’st thou this Moor but at two hundred plates?
1 Off. No more, my lord. 110
Bar. Why should this Turk be dearer than that Moor?
1 Off. Because he is young and has more qualities.
Bar. What, hast thou the philosopher’s stone? An thou hast, break my head with it, I ’ll forgive thee. 115
Slave. No, sir; I can cut and shave.
Bar. Let me see, sirrah, are you not an old shaver?
Slave. Alas, sir! I am a very youth.
Bar. A youth? I ’ll buy you, and marry (120) you to Lady Vanity, if you do well.
Slave. I will serve you, sir.
Bar. Some wicked trick or other. It may be, under colour of shaving, thou ’lt cut my throat for my goods. Tell me, hast thou thy health well? 126
Slave. Ay, passing well.
Bar. So much the worse; I must have one that ’s sickly, an ’t be but for sparing victuals: ’t is not a stone of beef a day will maintain (130) you in these chops; let me see one that ’s somewhat leaner.
1 Off. Here ’s a leaner, how like you him?
Bar. Where wast thou born?
Itha. In Thrace; brought up in Arabia. 135
Bar. So much the better, thou art for my turn. An hundred crowns? I ’ll have him; there ’s the coin. [Gives money.]
1 Off. Then mark him, sir, and take him hence.
Bar. Ay, mark him, you were best, for this is he That by my help shall do much villainy. [Aside.] 140 My lord, farewell. Come, sirrah, you are mine. As for the diamond, it shall be yours; I pray, sir, be no stranger at my house, All that I have shall be at your command.
Enter MATHIAS and his Mother [KATHERINE]
Math. What makes the Jew and Lodowick so private? 145 I fear me ’t is about fair Abigail. [Aside.]
Bar. Yonder comes Don Mathias, let us stay;[514] [Exit LODOWICK.] He loves my daughter, and she holds him dear: But I have sworn to frustrate both their hopes, And be reveng’d upon the governor. 150
Kath. This Moor is comeliest, is he not? Speak, son.
Math. No, this is the better, mother; view this well.
Bar. Seem not to know me here before your mother, Lest she mistrust the match that is in hand. When you have brought her home, come to my house; 155 Think of me as thy father; son, farewell.
Math. But wherefore talk’d Don Lodowick with you?
Bar. Tush! man, we talk’d of diamonds, not of Abigail.
Kath. Tell me, Mathias, is not that the Jew?
Bar. As for the comment on the Maccabees, I have it, sir, and ’t is at your command. 161
Math. Yes, madam, and my talk with him was About the borrowing of a book or two.
Kath. Converse not with him, he ’s cast off from heaven. Thou hast thy crowns, fellow; come, let ’s away. 165
Math. Sirrah, Jew, remember the book.
Bar. Marry will I, sir. Exeunt [MATHIAS and his Mother].
Off. Come, I have made A reasonable market; let ’s away. [Exeunt Officers with Slaves.]
Bar. Now let me know thy name, and therewithal Thy birth, condition, and profession. 170
Itha. Faith, sir, my birth is but mean; my name ’s Ithamore; my profession what you please.
Bar. Hast thou no trade? Then listen to my words, And I will teach [thee] that shall stick by thee: First be thou void of these affections, 175 Compassion, love, vain hope, and heartless fear; Be mov’d at nothing, see thou pity none, But to thyself smile when the Christians moan.
Itha. O, brave! Master, I worship your nose[515] for this.
Bar. As for myself, I walk abroad o’ nights And kill sick people groaning under walls; 181 Sometimes I go about and poison wells; And now and then, to cherish Christian thieves, I am content to lose some of my crowns, That I may, walking in my gallery, 185 See ’em go pinion’d along by my door. Being young, I studied physic, and began To practise first upon the Italian; There I enrich’d the priests with burials, And always kept the sextons’ arms in ure[516] 190 With digging graves and ringing dead men’s knells: And after that was I an engineer, And in the wars ’twixt France and Germany, Under pretence of helping Charles the Fifth, Slew friend and enemy with my stratagems. 195 Then after that was I an usurer, And with extorting, cozening, forfeiting, And tricks belonging unto brokery, I fill’d the jails with bankrupts in a year, And with young orphans planted hospitals, 200 And every moon made some or other mad, And now and then one hang himself for grief, Pinning upon his breast a long great scroll How I with interest tormented him. But mark how I am blest for plaguing them; I have as much coin as will buy the town. 206 But tell me now, how hast thou spent thy time?
Itha. ’Faith, master, In setting Christian villages on fire, Chaining of eunuchs, binding galley-slaves, 210 One time I was an ostler in an inn, And in the night-time secretly would I steal To travellers’ chambers, and there cut their throats. Once at Jerusalem, where the pilgrims kneel’d, I strowed powder on the marble stones, 215 And therewithal their knees would rankle so, That I have laugh’d a-good[517] to see the cripples Go limping home to Christendom on stilts.
Bar. Why this is something. Make account of me As of thy fellow, we are villains both; 220 Both circumcised, we hate Christians both. Be true and secret, thou shalt want no gold. But stand aside, here comes Don Lodowick.
Enter LODOWICK.
Lod. O Barabas, well met; Where is the diamond you told me of? 225
Bar. I have it for you, sir; please you walk in with me. What ho, Abigail! open the door, I say.
Enter ABIGAIL [with letters].
Abig. In good time, father; here are letters come From Ormus, and the post stays here within.
Bar. Give me the letters.—Daughter, do you hear, 230 Entertain Lodowick the governor’s son With all the courtesy you can afford; Provided that you keep your maidenhead. Use him as if he were a Philistine, Dissemble, swear, protest, vow love to him, 235 He is not of the seed of Abraham.—Aside. I am a little busy, sir, pray pardon me. Abigail, bid him welcome for my sake.
Abig. For your sake and his own he’s welcome hither.
Bar. Daughter, a word more; kiss him; speak him fair, 240 And like a cunning Jew so cast about, That ye be both made sure[518] ere you come out. [Aside.]
Abig. O father! Don Mathias is my love.
Bar. I know it: yet I say, make love to him; Do, it is requisite it should be so—[Aside.] Nay, on my life, it is my factor’s hand— 246 But go you in, I ’ll think upon the account. [Exeunt ABIGAIL and LODOWICK into the house.] The account is made, for Lodowick—dies. My factor sends me word a merchant ’s fled That owes me for a hundred tun of wine. 250 I weigh it thus much [snapping his fingers]; I have wealth enough. For now by this has he kiss’d Abigail; And she vows love to him, and he to her. As sure as Heaven rain’d manna for the Jews, So sure shall he and Don Mathias die: 255 His father was my chiefest enemy. Enter MATHIAS. Whither goes Don Mathias? Stay awhile.
Math. Whither, but to my fair love Abigail?
Bar. Thou know’st, and Heaven can witness it is true, That I intend my daughter shall be thine. 260
Math. Ay, Barabas, or else thou wrong’st me much.
Bar. O, Heaven forbid I should have such a thought. Pardon me though I weep: the governor’s son Will, whether I will or no, have Abigail: He sends her letters, bracelets, jewels, rings.
Math. Does she receive them? 266
Bar. She? No, Mathias, no, but sends them back. And when he comes, she locks herself up fast; Yet through the keyhole will he talk to her, While she runs to the window looking out, 270 When you should come and hale him from the door.
Math. O treacherous Lodowick!
Bar. Even now as I came home, he slipt me in, And I am sure he is with Abigail.
Math. I ’ll rouse him thence. 275
Bar. Not for all Malta, therefore sheathe your sword. If you love me, no quarrels in my house; But steal you in, and seem to see him not; I ’ll give him such a warning ere he goes As he shall have small hopes of Abigail. 280 Away, for here they come.
Re-enter LODOWICK and ABIGAIL.
Math. What, hand in hand! I cannot suffer this.
Bar. Mathias, as thou lov’st me, not a word.
Math. Well, let it pass, another time shall serve. Exit [into the house.]
Lod. Barabas, is not that the widow’s son?
Bar. Ay, and take heed, for he hath sworn your death. 286
Lod. My death? What, is the base-born peasant mad?
Bar. No, no, but happily he stands in fear Of that which you, I think, ne’er dream upon, My daughter here, a paltry silly girl. 290
Lod. Why, loves she Don Mathias?
Bar. Doth she not with her smiling answer you?
Abig. [Aside.] He has my heart; I smile against my will.
Lod. Barabas, thou know’st I’ve lov’d thy daughter long.
Bar. And so has she done you, even from a child. 285
Lod. And now I can no longer hold my mind.
Bar. Nor I the affection that I bear to you.
Lod. This is thy diamond, tell me shall I have it?
Bar. Win it, and wear it, it is yet unfoil’d.[519] O! but I know your lordship would disdain 300 To marry with the daughter of a Jew; And yet I ’ll give her many a golden cross[520] With Christian posies round about the ring.
Lod. ’T is not thy wealth, but her that I esteem. Yet crave I thy consent. 305
Bar. And mine you have, yet let me talk to her.— This offspring of Cain, this Jebusite, That never tasted of the Passover, Nor e’er shall see the land of Canaan, Nor our Messias that is yet to come; 310 This gentle maggot, Lodowick, I mean, Must be deluded. Let him have thy hand, But keep thy heart till Don Mathias comes. Aside.
Abig. What, shall I be betroth’d to Lodowick?
Bar. It ’s no sin to deceive a Christian; 315 For they themselves hold it a principle, Faith is not to be held with heretics; But all are heretics that are not Jews; This follows well, and therefore, daughter, fear not.—[Aside.] I have entreated her, and she will grant. 320
Lod. Then, gentle Abigail, plight thy faith to me.
Abig. I cannot choose, seeing my father bids. Nothing but death shall part my love and me.
Lod. Now have I that for which my soul hath long’d. 324
Bar. So have not I, but yet I hope I shall. Aside.
Abig. [Aside.] O wretched Abigail, what hast thou done?
Lod. Why on the sudden is your colour chang’d?
Abig. I know not, but farewell, I must be gone.
Bar. Stay her, but let her not speak one word more.
Lod. Mute o’ the sudden! Here ’s a sudden change. 330
Bar. O, muse not at it, ’t is the Hebrews’ guise, That maidens new betroth’d should weep awhile. Trouble her not; sweet Lodowick, depart: She is thy wife, and thou shalt be mine heir.
Lod. O, is ’t the custom? Then I am resolv’d:[521] 335 But rather let the brightsome heavens be dim, And nature’s beauty choke with stifling clouds, Than my fair Abigail should frown on me.— There comes the villain, now I ’ll be reveng’d.
Re-enter MATHIAS.
Bar. Be quiet, Lodowick, it is enough 340 That I have made thee sure[522] to Abigail.
Lod. Well, let him go. Exit.
Bar. Well, but for me, as you went in at doors You had been stabb’d, but not a word on ’t now; Here must no speeches pass, nor swords be drawn. 345
Math. Suffer me, Barabas, but to follow him.
Bar. No; so shall I, if any hurt be done, Be made an accessory of your deeds. Revenge it on him when you meet him next.
Math. For this I ’ll have his heart. 350
Bar. Do so; lo, here I give thee Abigail.
Math. What greater gift can poor Mathias have? Shall Lodowick rob me of so fair a love? My life is not so dear as Abigail.
Bar. My heart misgives me, that, to cross your love, 355 He ’s with your mother; therefore after him.
Math. What, is he gone unto my mother?
Bar. Nay, if you will, stay till she comes herself.
Math. I cannot stay; for if my mother come, She ’ll die with grief. 360 Exit.
Abig. I cannot take my leave of him for tears. Father, why have you thus incens’d them both?
Bar. What’s that to thee?
Abig. I’ll make ’em friends again.
Bar. You’ll make ’em friends! Are there not Jews enow 364 In Malta, but thou must dote upon a Christian?
Abig. I will have Don Mathias; he is my love.
Bar. Yes, you shall have him.—Go, put her in.
Itha. Ay, I’ll put her in. [Puts ABIGAIL in.]
Bar. Now tell me, Ithamore, how lik’st thou this?
Itha. Faith, master, I think by this 370 You purchase both their lives; is it not so?
Bar. True; and it shall be cunningly perform’d.
Itha. O master, that I might have a hand in this.
Bar. Ay, so thou shalt, ’t is thou must do the deed. Take this, and bear it to Mathias straight, [Gives a letter.] 375 And tell him that it comes from Lodowick.
Itha. ’T is poison’d, is it not?
Bar. No, no, and yet it might be done that way. It is a challenge feign’d from Lodowick. 379
Itha. Fear not; I will so set his heart afire, That he shall verily think it comes from him.
Bar. I cannot choose but like thy readiness: Yet be not rash, but do it cunningly.
Itha. As I behave myself in this, employ me hereafter.
Bar. Away then. Exit ITHAMORE. So, now will I go in to Lodowick, 386 And, like a cunning spirit, feign some lie, Till I have set ’em both at enmity. Exit.
Act III
[SCENE I.][523]
Enter [BELLAMIRA,] a Courtesan.
Bell. Since this town was besieg’d, my gain grows cold. The time has been that, but for one bare night, A hundred ducats have been freely given: But now against my will I must be chaste; And yet I know my beauty doth not fail. 5 From Venice merchants, and from Padua Were wont to come rare-witted gentlemen, Scholars I mean, learned and liberal; And now, save Pilia-Borsa, comes there none, And he is very seldom from my house; 10 And here he comes.
Enter PILIA-BORSA.
Pilia. Hold thee, wench, there’s something for thee to spend. [Shews a bag of silver.]
Bell. ’T is silver. I disdain it.
Pilia. Ay, but the Jew has gold, 15 And I will have it, or it shall go hard.
Court. Tell me, how cam’st thou by this?
Pilia. Faith, walking the back-lanes, through the gardens, I chanc’d to cast mine eye up to the Jew’s counting-house, where I saw some (20) bags of money, and in the night I clamber’d up with my hooks, and, as I was taking my choice, I heard a rumbling in the house; so I took only this, and run my way. But here’s the Jew’s man. 25
Enter ITHAMORE.
Bell. Hide the bag.
Pilia. Look not towards him, let’s away. Zoons, what a looking thou keep’st; thou’lt betray ’s anon.
[Exeunt BELLAMIRA and PILIA-BORSA.]
Itha. O the sweetest face that ever I beheld! I know she is a courtesan by her attire. Now (30) would I give a hundred of the Jew’s crowns that I had such a concubine.
Well, I have deliver’d the challenge in such sort, As meet they will, and fighting die; brave sport! Exit.
[SCENE II.][524]
Enter MATHIAS.
Math. This is the place; now Abigail shall see Whether Mathias holds her dear or no.
Enter LODOWICK.
Math. [reading].[525] What, dares the villain write in such base terms?
Lod. I did it; and revenge it if thou dar’st. They fight.
Enter BARABAS, above [on a balcony].
Bar. O! bravely fought; and yet they thrust not home. 5 Now, Lodovico! now, Mathias! So——[Both fall.] So now they have show’d themselves to be tall[526] fellows.
[Cries] within. Part ’em, part ’em.
Bar. Ay, part ’em now they are dead. Farewell, farewell. Exit.
Enter FERNEZE. KATHERINE [and Attendants].
Fern. What sight is this!—my Lodowick slain? 10 These arms of mine shall be thy sepulchre.
Kath. Who is this? My son Mathias slain!
Fern. O Lodowick! had’st thou perish’d by the Turk, Wretched Ferneze might have veng’d thy death.
Kath. Thy son slew mine, and I’ll revenge his death. 15
Fern. Look. Katherine, look!—thy son gave mine these wounds.
Kath. O leave to grieve me, I am griev’d enough.
Fern. O! that my sighs could turn to lively breath; And these my tears to blood, that he might live.
Kath. Who made them enemies? 20
Fern. I know not, and that grieves me most of all.
Kath. My son lov’d thine.
Fern. And so did Lodowick him.
Kath. Lend me that weapon that did kill my son, And it shall murder me.
Fern. Nay, madam, stay; that weapon was my son’s, 25 And on that rather should Ferneze die.
Kath. Hold, let’s inquire the causers of their deaths, That we may venge their blood upon their heads.
Fern. Then take them up, and let them be interr’d Within one sacred monument of stone; 30 Upon which altar I will offer up My daily sacrifice of sighs and tears. And with my prayers pierce impartial heavens, Till they [reveal] the causers of our smarts, Which forc’d their hands divide united hearts. Come, Katherina, our losses equal are; 35 Then of true grief let us take equal share. Exeunt [with the bodies].
[SCENE III.][527]
Enter ITHAMORE.
Itha. Why, was there ever seen such villany, So neatly plotted, and so well perform’d? Both held in hand, and flatly both beguil’d?
Enter ABIGAIL.
Abig. Why, how now, Ithamore, why laugh’st thou so?
Itha. O mistress, ha! ha! ha! 5
Abig. Why, what ail’st thou?
Itha. O my master!
Abig. Ha!
Itha. O mistress! I have the bravest, gravest, secret, subtle, bottle-nos’d knave to my master, that ever gentleman had. 11
Abig. Say, knave, why rail’st upon my father thus?
Itha. O, my master has the bravest policy.
Abig. Wherein?
Itha. Why, know you not?
Abig. Why, no. 16
Itha. Know you not of Mathias’ and Don Lodowick’s disaster?
Abig. No, what was it?
Itha. Why, the devil invented a challenge, (20) my master writ it, and I carried it, first to Lodowick, and imprimis to Mathias. And then they met, [and,] as the story says, In doleful wise they ended both their days.
Abig. And was my father furtherer of their deaths? 25
Itha. Am I Ithamore?
Abig. Yes.
Itha. So sure did your father write, and I carry the challenge.
Abig. Well, Ithamore, let me request thee this: 30 Go to the new-made nunnery, and inquire For any of the friars of Saint Jacques, And say, I pray them come and speak with me.
Itha. I pray, mistress, will you answer me but one question? 35
Abig. Well, sirrah, what is’t?
Itha. A very feeling one: have not the nuns fine sport with the friars now and then?
Abig. Go to, sirrah sauce, is this your question? Get ye gone. 40
Itha. I will, forsooth, mistress. Exit.
Abig. Hard-hearted father, unkind Barabas! Was this the pursuit[528] of thy policy! To make me show them favour severally, 44 That by my favour they should both be slain? Admit thou lov’dst not Lodowick for his sire,[529] Yet Don Mathias ne’er offended thee: But thou wert set upon extreme revenge, Because the [sire][530] dispossess’d thee once, And could’st not venge it, but upon his son, 50 Nor on his son, but by Mathias’ means; Nor on Mathias, but by murdering me. But I perceive there is no love on earth, Pity in Jews, nor piety in Turks. 54 But here comes cursed Ithamore, with the friar.
Enter ITHAMORE and Friar [JACOMO].
F. Jac. Virgo, salve.
Itha. When! duck you!
Abig. Welcome, grave friar; Ithamore, begone. Exit ITHAMORE]. Know, holy sir, I am bold to solicit thee.
F. Jac. Wherein? 60
Abig. To get me be admitted for a nun.
F. Jac. Why, Abigail, it is not yet long since That I did labour thy admission, And then thou did’st not like that holy life.
Abig. Then were my thoughts so frail and unconfirm’d, 65 And I was chain’d to follies of the world: But now experience, purchased with grief, Has made me see the difference of things. My sinful soul, alas, hath pac’d too long The fatal labyrinth of misbelief, 70 Far from the Sun[531] that gives eternal life.
F. Jac. Who taught thee this?
Abig. The abbess of the house. Whose zealous admonition I embrace: O, therefore, Jacomo, let me be one, Although unworthy, of that sisterhood. 75
F. Jac. Abigail, I will, but see thou change no more. For that will be most heavy to thy soul.
Abig. That was my father’s fault.
F. Jac. Thy father’s! how?
Abig. Nay, you shall pardon me. [Aside.] O Barabas, Though thou deservest hardly at my hands, 80 Yet never shall these lips bewray[532] thy life.
F. Jac. Come, shall we go?
Abig. My duty waits on you. Exeunt.
[SCENE IV.][533]
Enter BARABAS, reading a letter.
Bar. What, Abigail become a nun again! False and unkind[534]; what, hast thou lost thy father? And all unknown, and unconstrain’d of me, Art thou again got to the nunnery? Now here she writes, and wills me to repent. 5 Repentance! Spurca! what pretendeth[535] this? I fear she knows—’t is so—of my device In Don Mathias’ and Lodovico’s deaths. If so, ’t is time that it be seen into; For she that varies from me in belief 10 Gives great presumption that she loves me not; Or loving, doth dislike of something done. But who comes here? [Enter ITHAMORE.] O Ithamore, come near; Come near, my love; come near, thy master’s life. My trusty servant, nay, my second [self]:[536] 15 For I have now no hope but even in thee, And on that hope my happiness is built. When saw’st thou Abigail?
Itha. To-day.
Bar. With whom?
Itha. A friar.
Bar. A friar! false villain, he hath done the deed. 20
Itha. How, sir?
Bar. Why, made mine Abigail a nun.
Itha. That’s no lie, for she sent me for him.
Bar. O unhappy day! False, credulous, inconstant Abigail! But let ’em go: and, Ithamore, from hence 25 Ne’er shall she grieve me more with her disgrace; Ne’er shall she live to inherit aught of mine, Be blest of me, nor come within my gates, But perish underneath my bitter curse, Like Cain by Adam for his brother’s death. 30
Itha. O master!
Bar. Ithamore, entreat not for her, I am mov’d, And she is hateful to my soul and me: And ’less[537] thou yield to this that I entreat, I cannot think but that thou hat’st my life. 35
Itha. Who, I, master? Why, I’ll run to some rock, And throw myself headlong into the sea; Why, I’ll do anything for your sweet sake.
Bar. O trusty Ithamore, no servant, but my friend, I here adopt thee for mine only heir, 40 All that I have is thine when I am dead, And whilst I live use half; spend as myself. Here take my keys,—I’ll give ’em thee anon. Go buy thee garments; but thou shalt not want: Only know this, that thus thou art to do: 45 But first go fetch me in the pot of rice That for our supper stands upon the fire.
Itha. [Aside.] I hold my head my master’s hungry.—I go, sir. Exit.
Bar. Thus every villain ambles after wealth, Although he ne’er be richer than in hope. 50 But, hush ’t!
Re-enter ITHAMORE with the pot.
Itha. Here ’t is, master.
Bar. Well said, Ithamore. What, hast thou brought the ladle with thee too?
Itha. Yes, sir, the proverb says he that eats with the devil had need of a long spoon. I have brought you a ladle. 55
Bar. Very well, Ithamore, then now be secret; And for thy sake, whom I so dearly love, Now shalt thou see the death of Abigail, That thou may’st freely live to be my heir.
Itha. Why, master, will you poison her (60) with a mess of rice porridge? That will preserve life, make her round and plump, and batten[538] more than you are aware.
Bar. Ay, but, Ithamore, seest thou this? It is a precious powder that I bought 65 Of an Italian in Ancona once, Whose operation is to bind, infect, And poison deeply, yet not appear In forty hours after it is ta’en.
Itha. How, master? 70
Bar. Thus, Ithamore. This even they use in Malta here,—’t is called Saint Jacques’ Even,—and then I say they use To send their alms unto the nunneries. Among the rest bear this, and set it there; 75 There’s a dark entry where they take it in, Where they must neither see the messenger, Nor make inquiry who hath sent it them.
Itha. How so?
Bar. Belike there is some ceremony in ’t. 80 There, Ithamore, must thou go place this pot! Stay, let me spice it first.
Itha. Pray do, and let me help you, master. Pray let me taste first.
Bar. Prythee do [ITHAMORE tastes]. What say’st thou now? 85
Itha. Troth, master, I’m loth such a pot of pottage should be spoil’d.
Bar. Peace, Ithamore, ’t is better so than spar’d. Assure thyself thou shalt have broth by the eye,[539] My purse, my coffer, and myself is thine. 90
Itha. Well, master, I go.
Bar. Stay, first let me stir it, Ithamore. As fatal be it to her as the draught Of which great Alexander drunk and died: And with her let it work like Borgia’s wine, 95 Whereof his sire, the Pope, was poisoned. In few,[540] the blood of Hydra, Lerna’s bane, The juice of hebon,[541] and Cocytus’ breath, And all the poisons of the Stygian pool Break from the fiery kingdom; and in this 100 Vomit your venom and invenom her That like a fiend hath left her father thus.
Itha. [Aside.] What a blessing has he given ’t! Was ever pot of rice porridge so sauc’d!—What shall I do with it? 105
Bar. O, my sweet Ithamore, go set it down, And come again so soon as thou hast done, For I have other business for thee.
Itha. Here ’s a drench to poison a whole stable of Flanders mares. I’ll carry ’t to the nuns (110) with a powder.
Bar. And the horse pestilence to boot; away!
Itha. I am gone. Pay me my wages, for my work is done. Exit.
Bar. I’ll pay thee with a vengeance, Ithamore. Exit. 115
[SCENE V.][542]
Enter FERNEZE, DEL BOSCO, Knights, and Basso.
Fern. Welcome, great basso; how fares Calymath? What wind drives you thus into Malta-road?
Bas. The wind that bloweth all the world besides,— Desire of gold.
Fern. Desire of gold, great sir? That’s to be gotten in the Western Ind: 5 In Malta are no golden minerals.
Bas. To you of Malta thus saith Calymath: The time you took for respite is at hand, For the performance of your promise pass’d, And for the tribute-money I am sent. 10
Fern. Basso, in brief, shalt have no tribute here, Nor shall the heathens live upon our spoil. First will we raze the city walls ourselves, Lay waste the island, hew the temples down, And, shipping off our goods to Sicily, 15 Open an entrance for the wasteful sea, Whose billows beating the resistless banks, Shall overflow it with their refluence.
Bas. Well, Governor, since thou hast broke the league By flat denial of the promis’d tribute, 20 Talk not of razing down your city walls. You shall not need trouble yourselves so far, For Selim Calymath shall come himself, And with brass bullets batter down your towers, And turn proud Malta to a wilderness 25 For these intolerable wrongs of yours; And so farewell.
Fern. Farewell. [Exit Basso.] And now, you men of Malta, look about, And let’s provide to welcome Calymath. 30 Close your portcullis, charge your basilisks,[543] And as you profitably take up arms, So now courageously encounter them; For by this answer, broken is the league, And naught is to be look’d for now but wars, 35 And naught to us more welcome is than wars. Exeunt.
[SCENE VI.][544]
Enter Friar [JACOMO] and Friar [BARNARDINE].
F. [Jac.] O, brother, brother, all the nuns are sick, And physic will not help them; they must die.
F. [Barn.] The abbess sent for me to be confess’d: O, what a sad confession will there be!
F. Jac. And so did fair Maria send for me. 5 I’ll to her lodging; hereabouts she lies. Exit.
Enter ABIGAIL.
F. Barn. What, all dead, save only Abigail?
Abig. And I shall die too, for I feel death coming. Where is the friar that convers’d with me? 9
F. Barn. O, he is gone to see the other nuns.
Abig. I sent for him, but seeing you are come, Be you my ghostly father: and first know, That in this house I liv’d religiously, Chaste, and devout, much sorrowing for my sins; But ere I came—— 15
F. Barn. What then?
Abig. I did offend high Heaven so grievously, As I am almost desperate for my sins; And one offence torments me more than all. You knew Mathias and Don Lodowick? 20
F. Barn. Yes, what of them?
Abig. My father did contract me to ’em both: First to Don Lodowick; him I never lov’d; Mathias was the man that I held dear, And for his sake did I become a nun. 25
F. Barn. So, say how was their end?
Abig. Both jealous of my love, envied[545] each other, And by my father’s practice,[546] which is there Set down at large, the gallants were both slain. [Gives a written paper.]
F. Barn. O monstrous villainy! 30
Abig. To work my peace, this I confess to thee; Reveal it not, for then my father dies.
F. Barn. Know that confession must not be reveal’d, The canon law forbids it, and the priest That makes it known, being degraded first, 35 Shall be condemn’d, and then sent to the fire.
Abig. So I have heard; pray, therefore keep it close.[547] Death seizeth on my heart: ah, gentle friar, Convert my father that he may be sav’d, And witness that I die a Christian. [Dies.] 40
F. Barn. Ay, and a virgin too; that grieves me most. But I must to the Jew and exclaim on him, And make him stand in fear of me.
Re-enter Friar [JACOMO].
F. Jac. O brother, all the nuns are dead, let’s bury them.
F. Barn. First help to bury this, then go with me 45 And help me to exclaim against the Jew.
F. Jac. Why, what has he done?
F. Barn. A thing that makes me tremble to unfold.
F. Jac. What, has he crucified a child?
F. Barn. No, but a worse thing, ’t was told me in shrift, 50 Thou know’st ’tis death an if it be reveal’d. Come, let’s away. Exeunt.
Act IV
[SCENE I.][548]
Enter BARABAS and ITHAMORE. Bells within.
Bar. There is no music to[549] a Christian’s knell: How sweet the bells ring now the nuns are dead, That sound at other times like tinker’s pans! I was afraid the poison had not wrought; Or, though it wrought, it would have done no good, 5 For every year they swell, and yet they live; Now all are dead, not one remains alive.
Itha. That’s brave, master, but think you it will not be known?
Bar. How can it, if we two be secret? 10
Itha. For my part fear you not.
Bar. I’d cut thy throat if I did.
Itha. And reason too. But here’s a royal monastery hard by; Good master, let me poison all the monks. 15
Bar. Thou shalt not need, for now the nuns are dead They’ll die with grief.
Itha. Do you not sorrow for your daughter’s death?
Bar. No, but I grieve because she liv’d so long. An Hebrew born, and would become a Christian! 20 Cazzo,[550] diabolo.
Enter Friar JACOMO and Friar BARNARDINE.
Itha. Look, look, master, here come two religious caterpillars.
Bar. I smelt ’em ere they came. 24
Itha. God-a-mercy, nose! Come, let’s begone.
F. Barn. Stay, wicked Jew, repent, I say, and stay.
F. Jac. Thou hast offended, therefore must be damn’d.
Bar. I fear they know we sent the poison’d broth.
Itha. And so do I, master; therefore speak ’em fair.
F. Barn. Barabas, thou hast—— 30
F. Jac. Ay, that thou hast——
Bar. True, I have money, what though I have?
F. Barn. Thou art a——
F. Jac. Ay, that thou art, a——
Bar. What needs all this? I know I am a Jew.
F. Barn. Thy daughter—— 36
F. Jac. Ay, thy daughter——
Bar. O speak not of her! then I die with grief.
F. Barn. Remember that——
F. Jac. Ay, remember that—— 40
Bar. I must needs say that I have been a great usurer.
F. Barn. Thou hast committed——
Bar. Fornification—but that was in another country; and besides, the wench is dead.
F. Barn. Ay, but, Barabas, 45 Remember Mathias and Don Lodowick.
Bar. Why, what of them?
F. Barn. I will not say that by a forg’d challenge they met.
Bar. [Aside.] She has confest, and we are both undone,— My bosom inmates!——but I must dissemble.—Aside. O holy friars, the burden of my sins 51 Lie heavy on my soul; then pray you tell me, Is’t not too late now to turn Christian? I have been zealous in the Jewish faith, Hard-hearted to the poor, a covetous wretch, 55 That would for lucre’s sake have sold my soul. A hundred for a hundred I have ta’en; And now for store of wealth may I compare With all the Jews of Malta; but what is wealth? I am a Jew, and therefore am I lost. 60 Would penance serve [to atone][551] for this my sin, I could afford to whip myself to death——
Itha. And so could I; but penance will not serve.
Bar. To fast, to pray, and wear a shirt of hair, And on my knees creep to Jerusalem. 65 Cellars of wine, and sollars[552] full of wheat, Warehouses stuff’d with spices and with drugs, Whole chests of gold, in bullion, and in coin, Besides I know not how much weight in pearl, Orient and round, have I within my house; 70 At Alexandria, merchandise unsold: But yesterday two ships went from this town, Their voyage will be worth ten thousand crowns. In Florence, Venice, Antwerp, London, Seville, Frankfort, Lubeck, Moscow, and where not, 75 Have I debts owing; and in most of these, Great sums of money lying in the banco; All this I’ll give to some religious house So I may be baptiz’d, and live therein.
F. Jac. O good Barabas, come to our house.
F. Barn. O no, good Barabas, come to our house; 81 And, Barabas, you know——
Bar. I know that I have highly sinn’d. You shall convert me, you shall have all my wealth.
F. Jac. O Barabas, their laws are strict. 85
Bar. I know they are, and I will be with you.
F. Barn. They wear no shirts, and they go barefoot too.
Bar. Then ’t is not for me; and I am resolv’d You shall confess me, and have all my goods.
F. Jac. Good Barabas, come to me. 90
Bar. You see I answer him, and yet he stays; Rid him away, and go you home with me.
F. Jac. I’ll be with you to-night.
Bar. Come to my house at one o’clock this night.
F. Jac. You hear your answer, and you may be gone. 95
F. Barn. Why, go, get you away.
F. Jac. I will not go for thee.
F. Barn. Not! then I’ll make thee, [rogue].[553]
F. Jac. How, dost call me rogue? They fight.
Itha. Part ’em, master, part ’em. 100
[Bar.] This is mere frailty, brethren; be content. Friar Barnardine, go you with Ithamore: You know my mind, let me alone with him. [Aside to F. BARNARDINE.]
F. Jac. Why does he go to thy house? Let him be gone.
Bar. I’ll give him something and so stop his mouth. 105 Exit [ITHAMORE with Friar BARNARDINE] I never heard of any man but he Malign’d the order of the Jacobins: But do you think that I believe his words? Why, brother, you converted Abigail; And I am bound in charity to requite it, 110 And so I will. O Jacomo, fail not, but come.
F. Jac. But, Barabas, who shall be your godfathers? For presently you shall be shriv’d.
Bar. Marry, the Turk[554] shall be one of my godfathers, But not a word to any of your covent.[555] 115
F. Jac. I warrant thee, Barabas. Exit.
Bar. So, now the fear is past, and I am safe, For he that shriv’d her is within my house; What if I murder’d him ere Jacomo comes? Now I have such a plot for both their lives 120 As never Jew nor Christian knew the like: One turn’d my daughter, therefore he shall die; The other knows enough to have my life, Therefore ’tis not requisite he should live. But are not both these wise men to suppose 125 That I will leave my house, my goods, and all, To fast and be well whipt? I’ll none of that. Now, Friar Barnardine, I come to you, I’ll feast you, lodge you, give you fair words, And after that, I and my trusty Turk— 130 No more, but so: it must and shall be done. [Exit.]
[SCENE II.][556]
Enter [BARABAS and] ITHAMORE.
Bar. Ithamore, tell me, is the friar asleep?
Itha. Yes; and I know not what the reason is. Do what I can he will not strip himself, Nor go to bed, but sleeps in his own clothes. I fear me he mistrusts what we intend. 5
Bar. No, ’t is an order which the friars use. Yet, if he knew our meanings, could he scape?
Itha. No, none can hear him, cry he ne’er so loud.
Bar. Why, true, therefore did I place him there. The other chambers open towards the street. 10
Itha. You loiter, master; wherefore stay we thus? O how I long to see him shake his heels.
Bar. Come on, sirrah. Off with your girdle, make a handsome noose. [ITHAMORE takes off his girdle and ties a noose in it.] Friar, awake! 15 [They put the noose round the Friar’s neck.]
F. Barn. What, do you mean to strangle me?
Itha. Yes, ’cause you use to confess.
Bar. Blame not us but the proverb, “Confess and be hanged.” Pull hard!
F. Barn. What, will you [have][557] my life? 20
Bar. Pull hard, I say.—You would have had my goods.
Itha. Ay, and our lives too, therefore pull amain. [They strangle him.] ’T is neatly done, sir, here ’s no print at all.
Bar. Then is it as it should be; take him up.
Itha. Nay, master, be rul’d by me a little, (25) [Stands the body upright against the wall and puts a staff in its hand.] So, let him lean upon his staff. Excellent! he stands as if he were begging of bacon.[558]
Bar. Who would not think but that this friar liv’d? 30 What time o’ night is’t now, sweet Ithamore?
Itha. Towards one.
Bar. Then will not Jacomo be long from hence. [Exeunt.]
[SCENE III.][559]
Enter Friar JACOMO.
F. Jac. This is the hour wherein I shall proceed;[560] O happy hour wherein I shall convert An infidel, and bring his gold into Our treasury! But soft, is not this Barnardine? It is; 5 And, understanding I should come this way, Stands here a purpose, meaning me some wrong, And intercept my going to the Jew.— Barnardine! Wilt thou not speak? Thou think’st I see thee not; 10 Away, I ’d wish thee, and let me go by. No, wilt thou not? Nay, then, I’ll force my way; And see, a staff stands ready for the purpose: As thou lik’st that, stop me another time. [Takes the staff and] strikes the body, which falls down.
Enter BARABAS [and ITHAMORE].
Bar. Why, how now, Jacomo, what hast thou done? (15)
F. Jac. Why, stricken him that would have struck at me.
Bar. Who is it? Barnardine! Now out, alas, he’s slain!
Itha. Ay, master, he’s slain; look how his brains drop out ou ’s nose. 19
F. Jac. Good sirs, I have done’t, but nobody knows it but you two; I may escape.
Bar. So might my man and I hang with you for company.
Itha. No, let us bear him to the magistrates.
F. Jac. Good Barabas, let me go. 25
Bar. No, pardon me; the law must have its course. I must be forc’d to give in evidence, That being importun’d by this Barnardine To be a Christian, I shut him out, And there he sat. Now I, to keep my word, 30 And give my goods and substance to your house, Was up thus early; with intent to go Unto your friary, because you stay’d.[561]
Itha. Fie upon ’em, master; will you turn Christian when holy friars turn devils and (35) murder one another?
Bar. No, for this example I’ll remain a Jew: Heaven bless me! What, a friar a murderer! When shall you see a Jew commit the like?
Itha. Why, a Turk could ha’ done no more. (40)
Bar. To-morrow is the sessions; you shall to it. Come, Ithamore, let’s help to take him hence.
F. Jac. Villains, I am a sacred person; touch me not.
Bar. The law shall touch you, we’ll but lead you, we. ’Las, I could weep at your calamity! 45 Take in the staff too, for that must be shown: Law wills that each particular be known. Exeunt.
[SCENE IV.][562]
Enter COURTESAN [BELLAMIRA] and PILIA-BORSA.
Bell. Pilia-Borsa, did’st thou meet with Ithamore?
Pilia. I did.
Bell. And did’st thou deliver my letter?
Pilia. I did.
Bell. And what think’st thou? Will he come? 5
Pilia. I think so, and yet I cannot tell; for at the reading of the letter he look’d like a man of another world.
Bell. Why so?
Pilia. That such a base slave as he should (10) be saluted by such a tall[563] man as I am, from such a beautiful dame as you.
Bell. And what said he?
Pilia. Not a wise word, only gave me a nod, as who should say, “Is it even so?” and so I (15) left him, being driven to a non-plus at the critical aspect of my terrible countenance.
Bell. And where didst meet him?
Pilia. Upon mine own freehold, within forty feet of the gallows, conning his neck-verse, (20) I take it, looking of[564] a friar’s execution, whom I saluted with an old hempen proverb, Hodie tibi, cras mihi, and so I left him to the mercy of the hangman: but the exercise[565] being done, see where he comes. 25
Enter ITHAMORE.
Itha. I never knew a man take his death so patiently as this friar. He was ready to leap off ere the halter was about his neck; and when the hangman had put on his hempen tippet, he made such haste to his prayers, as if he had (30) had another cure to serve. Well, go whither he will, I’ll be none of his followers in haste: and, now I think on ’t, going to the execution, a fellow met me with a muschatoes[566] like a raven’s wing, and a dagger with a hilt like a (35) warming-pan, and he gave me a letter from one Madam Bellamira, saluting me in such sort as if he had meant to make clean my boots with his lips; the effect was, that I should come to her house. I wonder what the reason is; it (40) may be she sees more in me than I can find in myself: for she writes further, that she loves me ever since she saw me, and who would not requite such love? Here’s her house, and here she comes, and now would I were gone; I am (45) not worthy to look upon her.
Pilia. This is the gentleman you writ to.
Itha. [Aside.] Gentleman! he flouts me; what gentry can be in a poor Turk of tenpence? I’ll be gone. 50
Bell. Is’t not a sweet-fac’d youth, Pilia?
Itha. [Aside.] Again, “sweet youth!”—Did not you, sir, bring the sweet youth a letter?
Pilia. I did, sir, and from this gentlewoman, who, as myself, and the rest of the family, (55) stand or fall at your service.
Bell. Though woman’s modesty should hale me back, I can withhold no longer; welcome, sweet love.
Itha. [Aside.] Now am I clean, or rather foully, out of the way. 60
Bell. Whither so soon?
Itha. [Aside.] I’ll go steal some money from my master to make me handsome.—Pray pardon me, I must go and see a ship discharg’d.
Bell. Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus? 65
Pilia. An ye did but know how she loves you, sir.
Itha. Nay, I care not how much she loves me—Sweet Bellamira, would I had my master’s wealth for thy sake!
Pilia. And you can have it, sir, an if you please. 70
Itha. If ’twere above ground, I could and would have it; but he hides and buries it up, as partridges do their eggs, under the earth.
Pilia. And is’t not possible to find it out?
Itha. By no means possible. 75
Bell. [Aside to PILIA-BORSA.] What shall we do with this base villain then?
Pilia. [Aside to her.] Let me alone; do but you speak him fair. But, [sir,] you know some secrets of the Jew, Which, if they were reveal’d, would do him harm. 79
Itha. Ay, and such as—Go to, no more! I’ll make him send me half he has, and glad he scapes so too. Pen and ink! I’ll write unto him; we’ll have money straight.
Pilia. Send for a hundred crowns at least.
[ITHAMORE] writes.
Itha. Ten hundred thousand crowns. “Master Barabas.” 85
Pilia. Write not so submissively, but threat’ning him.
Itha. [writing.] “Sirrah, Barabas, send me a hundred crowns.”
Pilia. Put in two hundred at least.
Itha. [writing.] “I charge thee send me three hundred by this bearer, and this shall be (90) your warrant: if you do not—no more, but so.”
Pilia. Tell him you will confess.
Itha. [writing.] “Otherwise I’ll confess all.”—Vanish, and return in a twinkle.
Pilia. Let me alone; I’ll use him in his kind. 95
[Exit PILIA-BORSA with the letter.]
Itha. Hang him, Jew!
Bell. Now, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap.— Where are my maids? Provide a running[567] banquet; Send to the merchant, bid him bring me silks, Shall Ithamore, my love, go in such rags? 100
Itha. And bid the jeweller come hither too.
Bell. I have no husband, sweet; I’ll marry thee.
Itha. Content: but we will leave this paltry land, And sail from hence to Greece, to lovely Greece. I’ll be thy Jason, thou my golden fleece; 105 Where painted carpets o’er the meads are hurl’d, And Bacchus’ vineyards overspread the world; Where woods and forests go in goodly green, I’ll be Adonis, thou shalt be Love’s Queen. The meads, the orchards, and the primrose-lanes, 110 Instead of sedge and reed, bear sugar-canes; Thou in those groves, by Dis above, Shalt live with me and be my love.
Bell. Whither will I not go with gentle Ithamore?
Re-enter PILIA-BORSA.
Itha. How now! hast thou the gold? 115
Pilia. Yes.
Itha. But came it freely? Did the cow give down her milk freely?
Pilia. At reading of the letter, he star’d and stamp’d and turn’d aside. I took him by (120) the beard, and look’d upon him thus; told him he were best to send it; then he hugg’d and embrac’d me.
Itha. Rather for fear than love.
Pilia. Then, like a Jew, he laugh’d and (125) jeer’d, and told me he lov’d me for your sake, and said what a faithful servant you had been.
Itha. The more villain he to keep me thus. Here’s goodly ’parel, is there not? 129
Pilia. To conclude, he gave me ten crowns.
[Gives the money to ITHAMORE.]
Itha. But ten? I’ll not leave him worth a grey groat. Give me a ream[568] of paper; we’ll have a kingdom of gold for ’t.
Pilia. Write for five hundred crowns. 134
Itha. [writing.] “Sirrah, Jew, as you love your life send me five hundred crowns, and give the bearer one hundred.” Tell him I must have ’t.
Pilia. I warrant your worship shall have ’t.
Itha. And if he ask why I demand so much, tell him I scorn to write a line under a hundred crowns. 141
Pilia. You’d make a rich poet, sir. I am gone. Exit.
Itha. Take thou the money; spend it for my sake.
Bell. ’T is not thy money, but thyself I weigh; Thus Bellamira esteems of gold. 145 [Throws it aside.] But thus of thee. Kisses him.
Itha. That kiss again! she runs division[569] of my lips. What an eye she casts on me! It twinkles like a star.
Bell. Come, my dear love, let’s in and sleep together. 149
Itha. O, that ten thousand nights were put in one, that we might sleep seven years together afore we wake!
Bell. Come, amorous wag, first banquet, and then sleep. Exeunt.
[SCENE V.][570]
Enter BARABAS, reading a letter.
Bar. “Barabas, send me three hundred crowns.—” Plain Barabas! O, that wicked courtesan! He was not wont to call me Barabas. “Or else I will confess:” ay, there it goes: But, if I get him, coupe de gorge for that. 5 He sent a shaggy totter’d[571] staring slave, That when he speaks draws out his grisly beard, And winds it twice or thrice about his ear; Whose face has been a grindstone for men’s swords; His hands are hack’d, some fingers cut quite off; 10 Who, when he speaks, grunts like a hog, and looks Like one that is employ’d in catzerie[572] And crossbiting.[573]—such a rogue As is the husband to a hundred whores: And I by him must send three hundred crowns! Well, my hope is, he will not stay there still; 15 And when he comes,—O, that he were but here!
Enter PILIA-BORSA.
Pilia. Jew, I must ha’ more gold.
Bar. Why, want’st thou any of thy tale?[574]
Pilia. No; but three hundred will not serve his turn. 21
Bar. Not serve his turn, sir?
Pilia. No, sir; and, therefore, I must have five hundred more.
Bar. I’ll rather—— 25
Pilia. O good words, sir, and send it you were hest! See, there’s his letter. [Gives letter.]
Bar. Might he not as well come as send? Pray bid him come and fetch it; what he writes for you, ye shall have straight. 30
Pilia. Ay, and the rest too, or else——
Bar. [Aside.] I must make this villain away.—Please you dine with me, sir;—and you shall be most heartily poison’d. Aside.
Pilia. No, God-a-mercy. Shall I have these crowns? 35
Bar. I cannot do it. I have lost my keys.
Pilia. O, if that be all, I can pick ope your locks.
Bar. Or climb up to my counting-house window: you know my meaning.
Pilia. I know enough, and therefore talk not to me of your counting-house. The gold! or (41) know, Jew, it is in my power to hang thee.
Bar. [Aside.] I am betray’d.— ’T is not five hundred crowns that I esteem, I am not mov’d at that: this angers me, 45 That he, who knows I love him as myself, Should write in this imperious vein. Why, sir, You know I have no child, and unto whom Should I leave all but unto Ithamore?
Pilia. Here’s many words, but no crowns. The crowns! 50
Bar. Commend me to him, sir, most humbly, And unto your good mistress, as unknown.
Pilia. Speak, shall I have ’em, sir?
Bar. Sir, here they are.—[Gives money.] O, that I should part with so much gold!— Here, take ’em, fellow, with as good a will—— [Aside], As I would see thee hang’d.—O, love stops my breath: 56 Never lov’d man servant as I do Ithamore!
Pilia. I know it, sir.
Bar. Pray, when, sir, shall I see you at my house?
Pilia. Soon enough, to your cost, sir. Fare you well. Exit. 60
Bar. Nay, to thine own cost, villain, if thou com’st! Was ever Jew tormented as I am? To have a shag-rag knave to come,— Three hundred crowns,—and then five hundred crowns! Well, I must seek a means to rid ’em all, 65 And presently: for in his villany He will tell all he knows, and I shall die for’t. I have it: I will in some disguise go see the slave, 69 And how the villain revels with my gold. Exit.
[SCENE VI.][575]
Enter Courtezan [BELLAMIRA,] ITHAMORE, and PILIA-BORSA.
Bell. I’ll pledge thee, love, and therefore drink it off.
Itha. Say’st thou me so? Have at it; and, do you hear? [Whispers.]
Bell. Go to, it shall be so.
Itha. Of that condition I will drink it up. Here’s to thee!
Bell. Nay, I’ll have all or none. 5
Itha. There, if thou lov’st me, do not leave a drop.
Bell. Love thee! fill me three glasses.
Itha. Three and fifty dozen, I’ll pledge thee.
Pilia. Knavely spoke, and like a knight-at-arms.
Itha. Hey, Rivo Castiliano![576] a man’s a man!
Bell. Now to the Jew. 11
Itha. Ha! to the Jew, and send me money he were best.
Pilia. What would ’st thou do if he should send thee none?
Itha. Do nothing; but I know what I know; he’s a murderer. 15
Bell. I had not thought he had been so brave a man.
Itha. You knew Mathias and the governor’s son; he and I killed ’em both, and yet never touch’d ’em.
Pilia. O, bravely done. 20
Itha. I carried the broth that poison’d the nuns; and he and I, snickle hand too fast,[577] strangled a friar.
Bell. You two alone?
Itha. We two; and ’t was never known, nor never shall be for me. 25
Pilia. [Aside to BELLAMIRA.] This shall with me unto the governor.
Bell. [Aside to PILIA-BORSA.] And fit it should: but first let’s ha’ more gold,—Come, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap.
Itha. Love me little, love me long. Let music rumble 30 Whilst I in thy incony[578] lap do tumble.
Enter BARABAs, with a lute, disguis’d.
Bell. A French musician! Come, let’s hear your skill.
Bar. Must tuna my lute for sound, twang, twang, first.
Itha. Wilt drink, Frenchman? Here’s to (35) thee with a——Pox on this drunken hiccup!
Bar. Gramercy, monsieur.
Bell. Prythee, Pilia-Borsa, bid the fiddler give me the posy in his hat there.
Pilia. Sirrah, you must give my mistress your posy. 41
Bar. À votre commandement, madame.
Bell. How sweet, my Ithamore, the flowers smell!
Itha. Like thy breath, sweetheart; no violet like ’em. 45
Pilia. Foh! methinks they stink like a hollyhock.
Bar. [Aside.] So, now I am reveng’d upon ’em all. The scent thereof was death; I poison’d it.
Itha. Play, fiddler, or I’ll cut your cat’s guts into chitterlings. 51
Bar. Pardonnez moi, be no in tune yet; so now, now all be in.
Itha. Give him a crown, and fill me out more wine.
Pilia. There’s two crowns for thee; play. 55
Bar. (Aside.) How liberally the villain gives me mine own gold! [Plays.]
Pilia. Methinks he fingers very well.
Bar. (Aside.) So did you when you stole my gold. 60
Pilia. How swift he runs!
Bar. (Aside.) You run swifter when you threw my gold out of my window.
Bell. Musician, hast been in Malta long?
Bar. Two, three, four month, madame. 65
Itha. Dost not know a Jew, one Barabas?
Bar. Very mush; monsieur, you no be his man?
Pilia. His man?
Itha. I scorn the peasant; tell him so. 70
Bar. [Aside.] He knows it already.
Itha. ’Tis a strange thing of that Jew, he lives upon pickled grasshoppers and sauc’d mushrooms.
Bar. (Aside.) What a slave’s this? The governor feeds not as I do. 76
Itha. He never put on clean shirt since he was circumcis’d.
Bar. (Aside.) O rascal! I change myself twice a day. 80
Itha. The hat he wears, Judas left under the elder when he hang’d himself.[579]
Bar. (Aside.) ’T was sent me for a present from the great Cham.
Pilia. A musty[580] slave he is;—Whither now, fiddler? 86
Bar. Pardonnez moi, monsieur, me be no well. Exit.
Pilia. Farewell, fiddler! One letter more to the Jew.
Bell. Prythee, sweet love, one more, and write it sharp. 90
Itha. No, I’ll send by word of mouth now.—Bid him deliver thee a thousand crowns, by the same token, that the nuns lov’d rice, that Friar Barnardine slept in his own clothes; any of ’em will do it. 95
Pilia. Let me alone to urge it, now I know the meaning.
Itha. The meaning has a meaning. Come let’s in. To undo a Jew is charity, and not sin. Exeunt.