Enter BARABAS, with a light. 53
     BARABAS. Thus, like the sad-presaging raven, that tolls
     The sick man's passport in her hollow beak, 54     And in the shadow of the silent night
     Doth shake contagion from her sable wings,
     Vex'd and tormented runs poor Barabas
     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,
     That has no further comfort for his maim.—
     O Thou, that with a fiery pillar ledd'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
     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.

     ABIGAIL. Now have I happily espied a time
     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.

     BARABAS. Now I remember those old women's words,
     Who in my wealth 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.

     ABIGAIL. Now that my father's fortune were so good
     As but to be about this happy place!
     'Tis 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,
     Give charge to Morpheus that he may dream
     A golden dream, and of 55 the sudden wake, 56     Come and receive the treasure I have found.

     BARABAS. Bueno para todos mi ganado no era: 57     As good go on, as sit so sadly thus.—
     But stay:  what star shines yonder in the east? 58     The loadstar of my life, if Abigail.—
     Who's there?

     ABIGAIL. Who's that?

     BARABAS. Peace, Abigail! 'tis I.

     ABIGAIL. Then, father, here receive thy happiness.

     BARABAS. Hast thou't?

     ABIGAIL. Here.[throws down bags]  Hast thou't?
     There's more, and more, and more.

     BARABAS. O my girl,
     My gold, my fortune, my felicity,
     Strength to my soul, death to mine enemy;
     Welcome the first beginner of my bliss!
     O Abigail, Abigail, that I had thee here too!
     Then my desires were fully satisfied:
     But I will practice thy enlargement thence:
     O girl! O gold! O beauty! O my bliss!
          [Hugs the bags.]

     ABIGAIL. Father, it draweth towards midnight now,
     And 'bout this time the nuns begin to wake;
     To shun suspicion, therefore, let us part.

     BARABAS. Farewell, my joy, and by my fingers take
     A kiss from him that sends it from his soul.
          [Exit ABIGAIL above.]
     Now, Phoebus, ope the eye-lids of the day.
     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. 59          [Exit.]

          Enter FERNEZE, 60 MARTIN DEL BOSCO, KNIGHTS, and OFFICERS.

     FERNEZE. 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?

     MARTIN DEL BOSCO. Governor of Malta, hither am I bound;
     My ship, the Flying Dragon, is of Spain,
     And so am I; Del Bosco is my name,
     Vice-admiral unto the Catholic King.

     FIRST KNIGHT. 'Tis true, my lord; therefore entreat 61 him well.

     MARTIN DEL BOSCO.
     Our fraught is Grecians, Turks, and Afric Moors;
     For late upon the coast of Corsica,
     Because we vail'd not 62 to the Turkish 63 fleet,
     Their creeping galleys had us in the chase:
     But suddenly the wind began to rise,
     And then we luff'd and tack'd, 64 and fought at ease:
     Some have we fir'd, and many have we sunk;
     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.

     FERNEZE. Martin del Bosco, I have heard of thee:
     Welcome to Malta, and to all of us!
     But to admit a sale of these thy Turks,
     We may not, nay, we dare not give consent,
     By reason of a tributary league.

     FIRST KNIGHT. Del Bosco, as thou lov'st and honour'st us,
     Persuade our governor against the Turk:
     This truce we have is but in hope of gold,
     And with that sum he craves might we wage war.

     MARTIN DEL BOSCO. 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,
     The Christian isle of Rhodes, from whence you came,
     Was lately lost, and you were stated 65 here
     To be at deadly enmity with Turks.

     FERNEZE. Captain, we know it; but our force is small.

     MARTIN DEL BOSCO. What is the sum that Calymath requires?

     FERNEZE. A hundred thousand crowns.

     MARTIN DEL BOSCO. 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,
     And not depart until I see you free.

     FERNEZE. 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
     Against these barbarous misbelieving Turks.

     MARTIN DEL BOSCO. 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
     To bring the hapless news to Christendom.

     FERNEZE. 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.
          [Exeunt.]

          Enter OFFICERS, 66 with ITHAMORE and other SLAVES.

     FIRST OFFICER. This is the market-place; here let 'em stand:
     Fear not their sale, for they'll be quickly bought.

     SECOND OFFICER. Every one's price is written on his back,
     And so much must they yield, or not be sold.

     FIRST OFFICER.
     Here comes the Jew:  had not his goods been seiz'd,
     He'd give us present money for them all.

          Enter BARABAS.

     BARABAS. In spite of these swine-eating Christians,
     (Unchosen nation, never circumcis'd,
     Poor villains, such as were 67 ne'er thought upon
     Till Titus and Vespasian conquer'd us,)
     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,
     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.
     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 bare-foot friar;
     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.

          Enter LODOWICK.

     LODOWICK. 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.

     BARABAS. Now will I shew myself to have more of the serpent than
     the dove; that is, more knave than fool.
          [Aside.]

     LODOWICK. Yond' walks the Jew:  now for fair Abigail.

     BARABAS. Ay, ay, no doubt but she's at your command.
          [Aside.]

     LODOWICK. Barabas, thou know'st I am the governor's son.

     BARABAS.
     I would you were his father too, sir! that's all the harm
     I wish you.—The slave looks like a hog's cheek new-singed.
          [Aside.]

     LODOWICK. Whither walk'st thou, Barabas?

     BARABAS. No further:  'tis a custom held with us,
     That when we speak with Gentiles like to you,
     We turn into 68 the air to purge ourselves;
     For unto us the promise doth belong.

     LODOWICK. Well, Barabas, canst help me to a diamond?

     BARABAS. 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 69 for him,
     And the white leprosy.
          [Aside.]

     LODOWICK. What sparkle does it give without a foil?

     BARABAS. The diamond that I talk of ne'er was foil'd:—
     But, when he touches it, it will be foil'd.— 70          [Aside.]
     Lord Lodowick, it sparkles bright and fair.

     LODOWICK. Is it square or pointed? pray, let me know.

     BARABAS. Pointed it is, good sir,—but not for you.
          [Aside.]

     LODOWICK. I like it much the better.

     BARABAS. So do I too.

     LODOWICK. How shews it by night?

     BARABAS. Outshines Cynthia's rays:—
     You'll like it better far o' nights than days.
          [Aside.]

     LODOWICK. And what's the price?

     BARABAS. Your life, an if you have it [Aside].—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.]

     LODOWICK. No, Barabas, I will deserve it first.

     BARABAS. 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,
     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.

     LODOWICK. No doubt your soul shall reap the fruit of it.

     BARABAS. 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,
     'Tis likely they in time may reap some fruit,
     I mean, in fullness of perfection.

     LODOWICK. Good Barabas, glance not at our holy nuns.

     BARABAS. No, but I do it through a burning zeal,—
     Hoping ere long to set the house a-fire;
     For, though they do a while increase and multiply,
     I'll have a saying to that nunnery.— 71          [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,—
     It shall go hard but I will see your death.—
          [Aside.]
     But now I must be gone to buy a slave.

     LODOWICK. And, Barabas, I'll bear thee company.

     BARABAS. Come, then; here's the market-place.—
     What's the price of this slave? two hundred crowns! do the Turks
     weigh so much?

     FIRST OFFICER. Sir, that's his price.

     BARABAS. What, can he steal, that you demand so much?
     Belike he has some new trick for a purse;
     An if he has, he is worth three hundred plates, 72     So that, being bought, the town-seal might be got
     To keep him for his life-time from the gallows:
     The sessions-day is critical to thieves,
     And few or none scape but by being purg'd.

     LODOWICK. Rat'st thou this Moor but at two hundred plates?

     FIRST OFFICER. No more, my lord.

     BARABAS. Why should this Turk be dearer than that Moor?

     FIRST OFFICER. Because he is young, and has more qualities.

     BARABAS. What, hast the philosopher's stone? an thou hast, break
     my head with it, I'll forgive thee.

     SLAVE. 73 No, sir; I can cut and shave.

     BARABAS. Let me see, sirrah; are you not an old shaver?

     SLAVE. Alas, sir, I am a very youth!

     BARABAS. A youth! I'll buy you, and marry you to Lady Vanity, 74     if you do well.

     SLAVE. I will serve you, sir.

     BARABAS. 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?

     SLAVE. Ay, passing well.

     BARABAS. So much the worse:  I must have one that's sickly, an't
     be but for sparing victuals:  'tis not a stone of beef a-day
     will maintain you in these chops.—Let me see one that's
     somewhat leaner.

     FIRST OFFICER. Here's a leaner; how like you him?

     BARABAS. Where wast thou born?

     ITHAMORE. In Thrace; brought up in Arabia.

     BARABAS. So much the better; thou art for my turn.
     An hundred crowns?  I'll have him; there's the coin.
          [Gives money.]

     FIRST OFFICER. Then mark him, sir, and take him hence.

     BARABAS. Ay, mark him, you were best; for this is he
     That by my help shall do much villany.—
          [Aside.]
     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 KATHARINE. 75
     MATHIAS. What make the Jew and Lodowick so private?
     I fear me 'tis about fair Abigail.
          [Aside.]

     BARABAS. [to LODOWICK.] Yonder comes Don Mathias; let us stay: 76     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.
          [Aside.]
          [Exit LODOWICK.]

     KATHARINE. This Moor is comeliest, is he not? speak, son.

     MATHIAS. No, this is the better, mother, view this well.

     BARABAS. 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;
     Think of me as thy father:  son, farewell.

     MATHIAS. But wherefore talk'd Don Lodowick with you?

     BARABAS. Tush, man! we talk'd of diamonds, not of Abigail.

     KATHARINE. Tell me, Mathias, is not that the Jew?

     BARABAS. As for the comment on the Maccabees,
     I have it, sir, and 'tis at your command.

     MATHIAS. Yes, madam, and my talk with him was 77     About the borrowing of a book or two.

     KATHARINE. Converse not with him; he is cast off from heaven.—
     Thou hast thy crowns, fellow.—Come, let's away.

     MATHIAS. Sirrah Jew, remember the book.

     BARABAS. Marry, will I, sir.
          [Exeunt KATHARlNE and MATHIAS.]

     FIRST OFFICER. Come, I have made a reasonable market; let's away.
          [Exeunt OFFICERS with SLAVES.]

     BARABAS. Now let me know thy name, and therewithal
     Thy birth, condition, and profession.

     ITHAMORE. Faith, sir, my birth is but mean; my name's Ithamore;
     my profession what you please.

     BARABAS. 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,
     Compassion, love, vain hope, and heartless fear;
     Be mov'd at nothing, see thou pity none,
     But to thyself smile when the Christians moan.

     ITHAMORE. O, brave, master! 78 I worship your nose 79 for this.

     BARABAS. As for myself, I walk abroad o' nights,
     And kill sick people groaning under walls:
     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,
     See 'em go pinion'd along by my door.
     Being young, I studied physic, and began
     To practice first upon the Italian;
     There I enrich'd the priests with burials,
     And always kept the sexton's arms in ure 80     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:
     Then, after that, was I an usurer,
     And with extorting, cozening, forfeiting,
     And tricks belonging unto brokery,
     I fill'd the gaols with bankrupts in a year,
     And with young orphans planted hospitals;
     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.
     But tell me now, how hast thou spent thy time?

     ITHAMORE. Faith, master,
     In setting Christian villages on fire,
     Chaining of eunuchs, binding galley-slaves.
     One time I was an hostler 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 strewed powder on the marble stones,
     And therewithal their knees would rankle so,
     That I have laugh'd a-good 81 to see the cripples
     Go limping home to Christendom on stilts.

     BARABAS. Why, this is something:  make account of me
     As of thy fellow; we are villains both;
     Both circumcised; we hate Christians both:
     Be true and secret; thou shalt want no gold.
     But stand aside; here comes Don Lodowick.

          Enter LODOWICK. 82
     LODOWICK. O, Barabas, well met;
     Where is the diamond you told me of?

     BARABAS. I have it for you, sir:  please you walk in with me.—
     What, ho, Abigail! open the door, I say!

          Enter ABIGAIL, with letters.

     ABIGAIL. In good time, father; here are letters come
     ]From Ormus, and the post stays here within.

     BARABAS. Give me the letters.—Daughter, do you hear?
     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: 83     He is not of the seed of Abraham.—
          [Aside to her.]
     I am a little busy, sir; pray, pardon me.—
     Abigail, bid him welcome for my sake.

     ABIGAIL. For your sake and his own he's welcome hither.

     BARABAS. Daughter, a word more:  kiss him, speak him fair,
     And like a cunning Jew so cast about,
     That ye be both made sure 84 ere you come out.
          [Aside to her.]

     ABIGAIL. O father, Don Mathias is my love!

     BARABAS. I know it:  yet, I say, make love to him;
     Do, it is requisite it should be so.—
          [Aside to her.]
     Nay, on my life, it is my factor's hand;
     But go you in, I'll think upon the account.
          [Exeunt ABIGAIL and LODOWICK into the house.]
     The account is made, for Lodovico 85 dies.
     My factor sends me word a merchant's fled
     That owes me for a hundred tun of wine:
     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:
     His father was my chiefest enemy.

          Enter MATHIAS.

     Whither goes Don Mathias? stay a while.

     MATHIAS. Whither, but to my fair love Abigail?

     BARABAS. Thou know'st, and heaven can witness it is true,
     That I intend my daughter shall be thine.

     MATHIAS. Ay, Barabas, or else thou wrong'st me much.

     BARABAS. 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.

     MATHIAS. Does she receive them?

     BARABAS. She! no, Mathias, no, but sends them back;
     And, when he comes, she locks herself up fast;
     Yet through the key-hole will he talk to her,
     While she runs to the window, looking out
     When you should come and hale him from the door.

     MATHIAS. O treacherous Lodowick!

     BARABAS. Even now, as I came home, he slipt me in,
     And I am sure he is with Abigail.

     MATHIAS. I'll rouse him thence.

     BARABAS. 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.
     Away, for here they come.

          Re-enter LODOWICK and ABIGAIL.

     MATHIAS. What, hand in hand! I cannot suffer this.

     BARABAS. Mathias, as thou lov'st me, not a word.

     MATHIAS. Well, let it pass; another time shall serve.
          [Exit into the house.]

     LODOWICK. Barabas, is not that the widow's son?

     BARABAS. Ay, and take heed, for he hath sworn your death.

     LODOWICK. My death! what, is the base-born peasant mad?

     BARABAS. No, no; but happily 86 he stands in fear
     Of that which you, I think, ne'er dream upon,—
     My daughter here, a paltry silly girl.

     LODOWICK. Why, loves she Don Mathias?

     BARABAS. Doth she not with her smiling answer you?

     ABIGAIL. He has my heart; I smile against my will.
          [Aside.]

     LODOWICK. Barabas, thou know'st I have lov'd thy daughter long.

     BARABAS. And so has she done you, even from a child.

     LODOWICK. And now I can no longer hold my mind.

     BARABAS. Nor I the affection that I bear to you.

     LODOWICK. This is thy diamond; tell me, shall I have it?

     BARABAS. Win it, and wear it; it is yet unsoil'd. 87     O, but I know your lordship would disdain
     To marry with the daughter of a Jew:
     And yet I'll give her many a golden cross 88     With Christian posies round about the ring.

     LODOWICK. 'Tis not thy wealth, but her that I esteem;
     Yet crave I thy consent.

     BARABAS. 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;
     This gentle maggot, Lodowick, I mean,
     Must be deluded:  let him have thy hand,
     But keep thy heart till Don Mathias comes.
          [Aside to her.]

     ABIGAIL. What, shall I be betroth'd to Lodowick?

     BARABAS. It's no sin to deceive a Christian;
     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 to her.]
     I have entreated her, and she will grant.

     LODOWICK. Then, gentle Abigail, plight thy faith to me.

     ABIGAIL. I cannot choose, seeing my father bids:
     Nothing but death shall part my love and me.

     LODOWICK. Now have I that for which my soul hath long'd.

     BARABAS. So have not I; but yet I hope I shall.
          [Aside.]

     ABIGAIL. O wretched Abigail, what hast thou 89 done?
          [Aside.]

     LODOWICK. Why on the sudden is your colour chang'd?

     ABIGAIL. I know not:  but farewell; I must be gone.

     BARABAS. Stay her, but let her not speak one word more.

     LODOWICK. Mute o' the sudden! here's a sudden change.

     BARABAS. O, muse not at it; 'tis the Hebrews' guise,
     That maidens new-betroth'd should weep a while:
     Trouble her not; sweet Lodowick, depart:
     She is thy wife, and thou shalt be mine heir.

     LODOWICK. O, is't the custom? then I am resolv'd: 90     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.

     BARABAS. Be quiet, Lodowick; it is enough
     That I have made thee sure to Abigail.

     LODOWICK. Well, let him go.
          [Exit.]

     BARABAS. 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.

     MATHIAS. Suffer me, Barabas, but to follow him.

     BARABAS. No; so shall I, if any hurt be done,
     Be made an accessary of your deeds:
     Revenge it on him when you meet him next.

     MATHIAS. For this I'll have his heart.

     BARABAS. Do so.  Lo, here I give thee Abigail!

     MATHIAS. What greater gift can poor Mathias have?
     Shall Lodowick rob me of so fair a love?
     My life is not so dear as Abigail.

     BARABAS. My heart misgives me, that, to cross your love,
     He's with your mother; therefore after him.

     MATHIAS. What, is he gone unto my mother?

     BARABAS. Nay, if you will, stay till she comes herself.

     MATHIAS. I cannot stay; for, if my mother come,
     She'll die with grief.
          [Exit.]

     ABIGAIL. I cannot take my leave of him for tears.
     Father, why have you thus incens'd them both?

     BARABAS. What's that to thee?

     ABIGAIL. I'll make 'em friends again.

     BARABAS.
     You'll make 'em friends! are there not Jews enow in Malta,
     But thou must dote upon a Christian?

     ABIGAIL. I will have Don Mathias; he is my love.

     BARABAS. Yes, you shall have him.—Go, put her in.

     ITHAMORE. Ay, I'll put her in.
          [Puts in ABIGAIL.]

     BARABAS. Now tell me, Ithamore, how lik'st thou this?

     ITHAMORE. Faith, master, I think by this
     You purchase both their lives:  is it not so?

     BARABAS. True; and it shall be cunningly perform'd.

     ITHAMORE. O, master, that I might have a hand in this!

     BARABAS. Ay, so thou shalt; 'tis thou must do the deed:
     Take this, and bear it to Mathias straight,
          [Giving a letter.]
     And tell him that it comes from Lodowick.

     ITHAMORE. 'Tis poison'd, is it not?

     BARABAS. No, no; and yet it might be done that way:
     It is a challenge feign'd from Lodowick.

     ITHAMORE. Fear not; I will so set his heart a-fire,
     That he shall verily think it comes from him.

     BARABAS. I cannot choose but like thy readiness:
     Yet be not rash, but do it cunningly.

     ITHAMORE. As I behave myself in this, employ me hereafter.

     BARABAS. Away, then!
          [Exit ITHAMORE.]
     So; now will I go in to Lodowick,
     And, like a cunning spirit, feign some lie,
     Till I have set 'em both at enmity.
          [Exit.]

          Enter BELLAMIRA. 91
     BELLAMIRA. 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.
     ]From Venice merchants, and from Padua
     Were wont to come rare-witted gentlemen,
     Scholars I mean, learned and liberal;
     And now, save Pilia-Borza, comes there none,
     And he is very seldom from my house;
     And here he comes.

          Enter PILIA-BORZA.

     PILIA-BORZA.
     Hold thee, wench, there's something for thee to spend.
          [Shewing a bag of silver.]

     BELLAMIRA. 'Tis silver; I disdain it.

     PILIA-BORZA. Ay, but the Jew has gold,
     And I will have it, or it shall go hard.

     BELLAMIRA. Tell me, how cam'st thou by this?

     PILIA-BORZA. Faith, walking the back-lanes, through the gardens,
     I chanced to cast mine eye up to the Jew's counting-house, where
     I saw some bags of money, and in the night I clambered 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.

     BELLAMIRA. Hide the bag.

          Enter ITHAMORE.

     PILIA-BORZA. Look not towards him, let's away.  Zoons, what a
     looking thou keepest! thou'lt betray's anon.
          [Exeunt BELLAMIRA and PILIA-BORZA.]

     ITHAMORE. O, the sweetest face that ever I beheld!  I know she
     is a courtezan by her attire:  now 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.]

          Enter MATHIAS.

     MATHIAS. This is the place: 92  now Abigail shall see
     Whether Mathias holds her dear or no.

          Enter LODOWICK.

     What, dares the villain write in such base terms?
          [Looking at a letter.]

     LODOWICK. I did it; and revenge it, if thou dar'st!
          [They fight.]

          Enter BARABAS above.

     BARABAS. O, bravely fought! and yet they thrust not home.
     Now, Lodovico! 93 now, Mathias!—So;
          [Both fall.]
     So, now they have shew'd themselves to be tall 94 fellows.

          [Cries within] Part 'em, part 'em!

     BARABAS. Ay, part 'em now they are dead.  Farewell, farewell!
          [Exit above.]

          Enter FERNEZE, KATHARINE, and ATTENDANTS.

     FERNEZE. What sight is this! 95 my Lodovico 96 slain!
     These arms of mine shall be thy sepulchre. 97
     KATHARINE. Who is this? my son Mathias slain!

     FERNEZE. O Lodowick, hadst thou perish'd by the Turk,
     Wretched Ferneze might have veng'd thy death!

     KATHARINE. Thy son slew mine, and I'll revenge his death.

     FERNEZE. Look, Katharine, look! thy son gave mine these wounds.

     KATHARINE. O, leave to grieve me!  I am griev'd enough.

     FERNEZE. O, that my sighs could turn to lively breath,
     And these my tears to blood, that he might live!

     KATHARINE. Who made them enemies?

     FERNEZE. I know not; and that grieves me most of all.

     KATHARINE. My son lov'd thine.

     FERNEZE. And so did Lodowick him.

     KATHARINE. Lend me that weapon that did kill my son,
     And it shall murder me.

     FERNEZE. Nay, madam, stay; that weapon was my son's,
     And on that rather should Ferneze die.

     KATHARINE. Hold; let's inquire the causers of their deaths,
     That we may venge their blood upon their heads.

     FERNEZE. Then take them up, and let them be interr'd
     Within one sacred monument of stone;
     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, Katharine; 98 our losses equal are;
     Then of true grief let us take equal share.
          [Exeunt with the bodies.]

          Enter ITHAMORE. 99
     ITHAMORE. Why, was there ever seen such villany,
     So neatly plotted, and so well perform'd?
     Both held in hand, 100 and flatly both beguil'd?

          Enter ABIGAIL.

     ABIGAIL. Why, how now, Ithamore! why laugh'st thou so?

     ITHAMORE. O mistress! ha, ha, ha!

     ABIGAIL. Why, what ail'st thou?

     ITHAMORE. O, my master!

     ABIGAIL. Ha!

     ITHAMORE. O mistress, I have the bravest, gravest, secret,
     subtle, bottle-nosed 101 knave to my master, that ever
     gentleman had!

     ABIGAIL. Say, knave, why rail'st upon my father thus?

     ITHAMORE. O, my master has the bravest policy!

     ABIGAIL. Wherein?

     ITHAMORE. Why, know you not?

     ABIGAIL. Why, no.

     ITHAMORE.
     Know you not of Mathia[s'] and Don Lodowick['s] disaster?

     ABIGAIL. No:  what was it?

     ITHAMORE. Why, the devil inverted a challenge, my master
     writ it, and I carried it, first to Lodowick, and imprimis
     to Mathia[s];
     And then they met, [and], as the story says,
     In doleful wise they ended both their days.

     ABIGAIL. And was my father furtherer of their deaths?

     ITHAMORE. Am I Ithamore?

     ABIGAIL. Yes.

     ITHAMORE.
     So sure did your father write, and I carry the challenge.

     ABIGAIL. Well, Ithamore, let me request thee this;
     Go to the new-made nunnery, and inquire
     For any of the friars of Saint Jaques, 102     And say, I pray them come and speak with me.

     ITHAMORE. I pray, mistress, will you answer me to one question?

     ABIGAIL. Well, sirrah, what is't?

     ITHAMORE. A very feeling one:  have not the nuns fine sport with
     the friars now and then?

     ABIGAIL. Go to, Sirrah Sauce! is this your question? get ye gone.

     ITHAMORE. I will, forsooth, mistress.
          [Exit.]

     ABIGAIL. Hard-hearted father, unkind Barabas!
     Was this the pursuit of thy policy,
     To make me shew them favour severally,
     That by my favour they should both be slain?
     Admit thou lov'dst not Lodowick for his sire, 103     Yet Don Mathias ne'er offended thee:
     But thou wert set upon extreme revenge,
     Because the prior dispossess'd thee once,
     And couldst not venge it but upon his son;
     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.—
     But here comes cursed Ithamore with the friar.

          Re-enter ITHAMORE with FRIAR JACOMO.

     FRIAR JACOMO. Virgo, salve.

     ITHAMORE. When duck you?

     ABIGAIL. Welcome, grave friar.—Ithamore, be gone.
          [Exit ITHAMORE.]
     Know, holy sir, I am bold to solicit thee.

     FRIAR JACOMO. Wherein?

     ABIGAIL. To get me be admitted for a nun.

     FRIAR JACOMO. Why, Abigail, it is not yet long since
     That I did labour thy admission,
     And then thou didst not like that holy life.

     ABIGAIL. Then were my thoughts so frail and unconfirm'd
     As 104 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,
     Far from the sun that gives eternal life!

     FRIAR JACOMO. Who taught thee this?

     ABIGAIL. The abbess of the house,
     Whose zealous admonition I embrace:
     O, therefore, Jacomo, let me be one,
     Although unworthy, of that sisterhood!

     FRIAR JACOMO. Abigail, I will:  but see thou change no more,
     For that will be most heavy to thy soul.

     ABIGAIL. That was my father's fault.

     FRIAR JACOMO. Thy father's! how?

     ABIGAIL. Nay, you shall pardon me.—O Barabas,
     Though thou deservest hardly at my hands,
     Yet never shall these lips bewray thy life!
          [Aside.]

     FRIAR JACOMO. Come, shall we go?

     ABIGAIL. My duty waits on you.
          [Exeunt.]

          Enter BARABAS, 105 reading a letter.

     BARABAS. What, Abigail become a nun again!
     False and unkind! 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:
     Repentance! Spurca! what pretendeth 106 this?
     I fear she knows—'tis so—of my device
     In Don Mathias' and Lodovico's deaths:
     If so, 'tis time that it be seen into;
     For she that varies from me in belief,
     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; 107     For I have now no hope but even in thee,
     And on that hope my happiness is built.
     When saw'st thou Abigail?

     ITHAMORE. To-day.

     BARABAS. With whom?

     ITHAMORE. A friar.

     BARABAS. A friar! false villain, he hath done the deed.

     ITHAMORE. How, sir!

     BARABAS. Why, made mine Abigail a nun.

     ITHAMORE. That's no lie; for she sent me for him.

     BARABAS. O unhappy day!
     False, credulous, inconstant Abigail!
     But let 'em go:  and, Ithamore, from hence
     Ne'er shall she grieve me more with her disgrace;
     Ne'er shall she live to inherit aught of mine,
     Be bless'd of me, nor come within my gates,
     But perish underneath my bitter curse,
     Like Cain by Adam for his brother's death.

     ITHAMORE. O master—

     BARABAS. Ithamore, entreat not for her; I am mov'd,
     And she is hateful to my soul and me:
     And, 'less 108 thou yield to this that I entreat,
     I cannot think but that thou hat'st my life.

     ITHAMORE. Who, I, master? why, I'll run to some rock,
     And throw myself headlong into the sea;
     Why, I'll do any thing for your sweet sake.

     BARABAS. O trusty Ithamore! no servant, but my friend!
     I here adopt thee for mine only heir:
     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—
     But first go fetch me in the pot of rice
     That for our supper stands upon the fire.

     ITHAMORE. I hold my head, my master's hungry [Aside].—I go, sir.
          [Exit.]

     BARABAS. Thus every villain ambles after wealth,
     Although he ne'er be richer than in hope:—
     But, husht!

          Re-enter ITHAMORE with the pot.

     ITHAMORE. Here 'tis, master.

     BARABAS. Well said, 109 Ithamore!  What, hast thou brought
     The ladle with thee too?

     ITHAMORE. Yes, sir; the proverb says, 110 he that eats with the
     devil had need of a long spoon; I have brought you a ladle.

     BARABAS. 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 mayst freely live to be my heir.

     ITHAMORE. Why, master, will you poison her with a mess of rice-
     porridge? that will preserve life, make her round and plump, and
     batten 111 more than you are aware.

     BARABAS. Ay, but, Ithamore, seest thou this?
     It is a precious powder that I bought
     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.

     ITHAMORE. How, master?

     BARABAS. Thus, Ithamore:
     This even they use in Malta here,—'tis call'd
     Saint Jaques' Even,—and then, I say, they use
     To send their alms unto the nunneries:
     Among the rest, bear this, and set it there:
     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.

     ITHAMORE. How so?

     BARABAS. Belike there is some ceremony in't.
     There, Ithamore, must thou go place this pot: 112     Stay; let me spice it first.

     ITHAMORE. Pray, do, and let me help you, master.
     Pray, let me taste first.

     BARABAS. Prithee, do.[ITHAMORE tastes.]  What say'st thou now?

     ITHAMORE. Troth, master, I'm loath such a pot of pottage should
     be spoiled.

     BARABAS. Peace, Ithamore! 'tis better so than spar'd.
          [Puts the powder into the pot.]
     Assure thyself thou shalt have broth by the eye: 113     My purse, my coffer, and myself is thine.

     ITHAMORE. Well, master, I go.

     BARABAS. 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,
     Whereof his sire the Pope was poisoned!
     In few, 114 the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane,
     The juice of hebon, 115 and Cocytus' breath,
     And all the poisons of the Stygian pool,
     Break from the fiery kingdom, and in this
     Vomit your venom, and envenom her
     That, like a fiend, hath left her father thus!

     ITHAMORE. What a blessing has he given't! was ever pot of
     rice-porridge so sauced? [Aside].—What shall I do with it?

     BARABAS. O my sweet Ithamore, go set it down;
     And come again so soon as thou hast done,
     For I have other business for thee.

     ITHAMORE. Here's a drench to poison a whole stable of Flanders
     mares:  I'll carry't to the nuns with a powder.

     BARABAS. And the horse-pestilence to boot:  away!

     ITHAMORE. I am gone:
     Pay me my wages, for my work is done.
          [Exit with the pot.]

     BARABAS. I'll pay thee with a vengeance, Ithamore!
          [Exit.]

          Enter FERNEZE, 116 MARTIN DEL BOSCO, KNIGHTS, and BASSO.

     FERNEZE. Welcome, great basso: 117  how fares Calymath?
     What wind drives you thus into Malta-road?

     BASSO. The wind that bloweth all the world besides,
     Desire of gold.

     FERNEZE. Desire of gold, great sir!
     That's to be gotten in the Western Inde:
     In Malta are no golden minerals.

     BASSO. 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.

     FERNEZE. 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,
     Open an entrance for the wasteful sea,
     Whose billows, beating the resistless banks, 118     Shall overflow it with their refluence.

     BASSO. Well, governor, since thou hast broke the league
     By flat denial of the promis'd tribute,
     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,
     For these intolerable wrongs of yours:
     And so, farewell.

     FERNEZE. Farewell.
          [Exit BASSO.]
     And now, you men of Malta, look about,
     And let's provide to welcome Calymath:
     Close your port-cullis, charge your basilisks, 119     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,
     And naught to us more welcome is than wars.
          [Exeunt.]

          Enter FRIAR JACOMO 120 and FRIAR BARNARDINE.

     FRIAR JACOMO. O brother, brother, all the nuns are sick,
     And physic will not help them! they must die.

     FRIAR BARNARDINE. The abbess sent for me to be confess'd:
     O, what a sad confession will there be!

     FRIAR JACOMO. And so did fair Maria send for me:
     I'll to her lodging; hereabouts she lies.
          [Exit.]

          Enter ABIGAIL.

     FRIAR BARNARDINE. What, all dead, save only Abigail!

     ABIGAIL. And I shall die too, for I feel death coming.
     Where is the friar that convers'd with me? 121
     FRIAR BARNARDINE. O, he is gone to see the other nuns.

     ABIGAIL. 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—

     FRIAR BARNARDINE. What then?

     ABIGAIL. I did offend high heaven so grievously
     As I am almost desperate for my sins;
     And one offense torments me more than all.
     You knew Mathias and Don Lodowick?

     FRIAR BARNARDINE. Yes; what of them?

     ABIGAIL. 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.

     FRIAR BARNARDINE. So:  say how was their end?

     ABIGAIL. Both, jealous of my love, envied 122 each other;
     And by my father's practice, 123 which is there
          [Gives writing.]
     Set down at large, the gallants were both slain.

     FRIAR BARNARDINE. O, monstrous villany!

     ABIGAIL. To work my peace, this I confess to thee:
     Reveal it not; for then my father dies.

     FRIAR BARNARDINE. Know that confession must not be reveal'd;
     The canon-law forbids it, and the priest
     That makes it known, being degraded first,
     Shall be condemn'd, and then sent to the fire.

     ABIGAIL. So I have heard; pray, therefore, keep it close.
     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.]

     FRIAR BARNARDINE. 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.

     FRIAR JACOMO. O brother, all the nuns are dead! let's bury them.

     FRIAR BARNARDINE. First help to bury this; then go with me,
     And help me to exclaim against the Jew.

     FRIAR JACOMO. Why, what has he done?

     FRIAR BARNARDINE. A thing that makes me tremble to unfold.

     FRIAR JACOMO. What, has he crucified a child? 124
     FRIAR BARNARDINE. No, but a worse thing: 'twas told me in shrift;
     Thou know'st 'tis death, an if it be reveal'd.
     Come, let's away.
          [Exeunt.]