Part 4

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.]

## ACT IV.

Enter BARABAS [125] and ITHAMORE. Bells within.

BARABAS. There is no music to [126] a Christian's knell: How sweet the bells ring, now the nuns are dead, That sound at other times like tinkers' pans! I was afraid the poison had not wrought, Or, though it wrought, it would have done no good, For every year they swell, and yet they live: Now all are dead, not one remains alive.

ITHAMORE. That's brave, master: but think you it will not be known?

BARABAS. How can it, if we two be secret?

ITHAMORE. For my part, fear you not.

BARABAS. I'd cut thy throat, if I did.

ITHAMORE. And reason too. But here's a royal monastery hard by; Good master, let me poison all the monks.

BARABAS. Thou shalt not need; for, now the nuns are dead, They'll die with grief.

ITHAMORE. Do you not sorrow for your daughter's death?

BARABAS. No, but I grieve because she liv'd so long, An Hebrew born, and would become a Christian: Cazzo, [127] diabolo!

ITHAMORE. Look, look, master; here come two religious caterpillars.

Enter FRIAR JACOMO and FRIAR BARNARDINE.

BARABAS. I smelt 'em ere they came.

ITHAMORE. God-a-mercy, nose! [128] Come, let's begone.

FRIAR BARNARDINE. Stay, wicked Jew; repent, I say, and stay.

FRIAR JACOMO. Thou hast offended, therefore must be damn'd.

BARABAS. I fear they know we sent the poison'd broth.

ITHAMORE. And so do I, master; therefore speak 'em fair.

FRIAR BARNARDINE. Barabas, thou hast--

FRIAR JACOMO. Ay, that thou hast--

BARABAS. True, I have money; what though I have?

FRIAR BARNARDINE. Thou art a--

FRIAR JACOMO. Ay, that thou art, a--

BARABAS. What needs all this? I know I am a Jew.

FRIAR BARNARDINE. Thy daughter--

FRIAR JACOMO. Ay, thy daughter--

BARABAS. O, speak not of her! then I die with grief.

FRIAR BARNARDINE. Remember that--

FRIAR JACOMO. Ay, remember that--

BARABAS. I must needs say that I have been a great usurer.

FRIAR BARNARDINE. Thou hast committed--

BARABAS. Fornication: but that was in another country; And besides, the wench is dead.

FRIAR BARNARDINE. Ay, but, Barabas, Remember Mathias and Don Lodowick.

BARABAS. Why, what of them?

FRIAR BARNARDINE. I will not say that by a forged challenge they met.

BARABAS. She has confess'd, and we are both undone, My bosom inmate! [129] but I must dissemble.-- [Aside to ITHAMORE.] O holy friars, the burden of my sins Lie heavy [130] 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, 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 in Malta: but what is wealth? I am a Jew, and therefore am I lost. Would penance serve [to atone] for this my sin, I could afford to whip myself to death,--

ITHAMORE. And so could I; but penance will not serve.

BARABAS. To fast, to pray, and wear a shirt of hair, And on my knees creep to Jerusalem. Cellars of wine, and sollars [131] 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; At Alexandria merchandise untold; [132] 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, 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.

FRIAR JACOMO. O good Barabas, come to our house!

FRIAR BARNARDINE. O, no, good Barabas, come to our house! And, Barabas, you know--

BARABAS. I know that I have highly sinn'd: You shall convert me, you shall have all my wealth.

FRIAR JACOMO. O Barabas, their laws are strict!

BARABAS. I know they are; and I will be with you.

FRIAR BARNARDINE. They wear no shirts, and they go bare-foot too.

BARABAS. Then 'tis not for me; and I am resolv'd You shall confess me, and have all my goods.

FRIAR JACOMO. Good Barabas, come to me.

BARABAS. You see I answer him, and yet he stays; Rid him away, and go you home with me.

FRIAR JACOMO. I'll be with you to-night.

BARABAS. Come to my house at one o'clock this night.

FRIAR JACOMO. You hear your answer, and you may be gone.

FRIAR BARNARDINE. Why, go, get you away.

FRIAR JACOMO. I will not go for thee.

FRIAR BARNARDINE. Not! then I'll make thee go.

FRIAR JACOMO. How! dost call me rogue?

[They fight.]

ITHAMORE. Part 'em, master, part 'em.

BARABAS. This is mere frailty: brethren, be content.-- Friar Barnardine, go you with Ithamore: You know my mind; let me alone with him.

FRIAR JACOMO. Why does he go to thy house? let him be gone. [133]

BARABAS. I'll give him something, and so stop his mouth. [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, And so I will. O Jacomo, fail not, but come.

FRIAR JACOMO. But, Barabas, who shall be your godfathers? For presently you shall be shriv'd.

BARABAS. Marry, the Turk [134] shall be one of my godfathers, But not a word to any of your covent. [135]

FRIAR JACOMO. I warrant thee, Barabas. [Exit.]

BARABAS. 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, 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. [136] But are not both these wise men, to suppose 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 [137] words, And, after that, I and my trusty Turk-- No more, but so: it must and shall be done. [138]

Enter ITHAMORE.

Ithamore, tell me, is the friar asleep?

ITHAMORE. 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.

BARABAS. No; 'tis an order which the friars use: Yet, if he knew our meanings, could he scape?

ITHAMORE. No, none can hear him, cry he ne'er so loud.

BARABAS. Why, true; therefore did I place him there: The other chambers open towards the street.

ITHAMORE. You loiter, master; wherefore stay we thus? O, how I long to see him shake his heels!

BARABAS. Come on, sirrah: Off with your girdle; make a handsome noose.-- [ITHAMORE takes off his girdle, and ties a noose on it.] Friar, awake! [139] [They put the noose round the FRIAR'S neck.]

FRIAR BARNARDINE. What, do you mean to strangle me?

ITHAMORE. Yes, 'cause you use to confess.

BARABAS. Blame not us, but the proverb,--Confess and be hanged.--Pull hard.

FRIAR BARNARDINE. What, will you have [140] my life?

BARABAS. Pull hard, I say.--You would have had my goods.

ITHAMORE. Ay, and our lives too:--therefore pull amain. [They strangle the FRIAR.] 'Tis neatly done, sir; here's no print at all.

BARABAS. Then is it as it should be. Take him up.

ITHAMORE. Nay, master, be ruled by me a little. [Takes the body, sets it 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.

BARABAS. Who would not think but that this friar liv'd? What time o' night is't now, sweet Ithamore?

ITHAMORE. Towards one. [141]

BARABAS. Then will not Jacomo be long from hence. [Exeunt.]

Enter FRIAR JACOMO. [142]

FRIAR JACOMO. This is the hour wherein I shall proceed; [143] O happy hour, wherein I shall convert An infidel, and bring his gold into our treasury! But soft! is not this Barnardine? it is; And, understanding I should come this way, Stands here o' purpose, meaning me some wrong, And intercept my going to the Jew.-- Barnardine! Wilt thou not speak? thou think'st I see thee not; 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 down the body.]

Enter BARABAS and ITHAMORE.

BARABAS. Why, how now, Jacomo! what hast thou done?

FRIAR JACOMO. Why, stricken him that would have struck at me.

BARABAS. Who is it? Barnardine! now, out, alas, he is slain!

ITHAMORE. Ay, master, he's slain; look how his brains drop out on's [144] nose.

FRIAR JACOMO. Good sirs, I have done't: but nobody knows it but you two; I may escape.

BARABAS. So might my man and I hang with you for company.

ITHAMORE. No; let us bear him to the magistrates.

FRIAR JACOMO. Good Barabas, let me go.

BARABAS. No, pardon me; the law must have his 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 sate: now I, to keep my word, And give my goods and substance to your house, Was up thus early, with intent to go Unto your friary, because you stay'd.

ITHAMORE. Fie upon 'em! master, will you turn Christian, when holy friars turn devils and murder one another?

BARABAS. 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?

ITHAMORE. Why, a Turk could ha' done no more.

BARABAS. To-morrow is the sessions; you shall to it.-- Come, Ithamore, let's help to take him hence.

FRIAR JACOMO. Villains, I am a sacred person; touch me not.

BARABAS. The law shall touch you; we'll but lead you, we: 'Las, I could weep at your calamity!-- Take in the staff too, for that must be shown: Law wills that each particular be known. [Exeunt.]

Enter BELLAMIRA [145] and PILIA-BORZA.

BELLAMIRA. Pilia-Borza, didst thou meet with Ithamore?

PILIA-BORZA. I did.

BELLAMIRA. And didst thou deliver my letter?

PILIA-BORZA. I did.

BELLAMIRA. And what thinkest thou? will he come?

PILIA-BORZA. I think so: and yet I cannot tell; for, at the reading of the letter, he looked like a man of another world.

BELLAMIRA. Why so?

PILIA-BORZA. That such a base slave as he should be saluted by such a tall [146] man as I am, from such a beautiful dame as you.

BELLAMIRA. And what said he?

PILIA-BORZA. Not a wise word; only gave me a nod, as who should say, "Is it even so?" and so I left him, being driven to a non-plus at the critical aspect of my terrible countenance.

BELLAMIRA. And where didst meet him?

PILIA-BORZA. Upon mine own free-hold, within forty foot of the gallows, conning his neck-verse, [147] I take it, looking of [148] 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 [149] being done, see where he comes.

Enter ITHAMORE.

ITHAMORE. 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 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 [150] like a raven's wing, and a dagger with a hilt like a 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 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 not worthy to look upon her.

PILIA-BORZA. This is the gentleman you writ to.

ITHAMORE. Gentleman! he flouts me: what gentry can be in a poor Turk of tenpence? [151] I'll be gone. [Aside.]

BELLAMIRA. Is't not a sweet-faced youth, Pilia?

ITHAMORE. Again, sweet youth! [Aside.]--Did not you, sir, bring the sweet youth a letter?

PILIA-BORZA. I did, sir, and from this gentlewoman, who, as myself and the rest of the family, stand or fall at your service.

BELLAMIRA. Though woman's modesty should hale me back, I can withhold no longer: welcome, sweet love.

ITHAMORE. Now am I clean, or rather foully, out of the way. [Aside.]

BELLAMIRA. Whither so soon?

ITHAMORE. I'll go steal some money from my master to make me handsome [Aside].--Pray, pardon me; I must go see a ship discharged.

BELLAMIRA. Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus?

PILIA-BORZA. An ye did but know how she loves you, sir!

ITHAMORE. Nay, I care not how much she loves me.--Sweet Bellamira, would I had my master's wealth for thy sake!

PILIA-BORZA. And you can have it, sir, an if you please.

ITHAMORE. 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-BORZA. And is't not possible to find it out?

ITHAMORE. By no means possible.

BELLAMIRA. What shall we do with this base villain, then? [Aside to PILIA-BORZA.]

PILIA-BORZA. Let me alone; do but you speak him fair.-- [Aside to her.] But you know [152] some secrets of the Jew, Which, if they were reveal'd, would do him harm.

ITHAMORE. Ay, and such as--go to, no more! I'll make him [153] send me half he has, and glad he scapes so too: I'll write unto him; we'll have money straight.

PILIA-BORZA. Send for a hundred crowns at least.

ITHAMORE. Ten hundred thousand crowns.--[writing] MASTER BARABAS,--

PILIA-BORZA. Write not so submissively, but threatening him.

ITHAMORE. [writing] SIRRAH BARABAS, SEND ME A HUNDRED CROWNS.

PILIA-BORZA. Put in two hundred at least.

ITHAMORE. [writing] I CHARGE THEE SEND ME THREE HUNDRED BY THIS BEARER, AND THIS SHALL BE YOUR WARRANT: IF YOU DO NOT--NO MORE, BUT SO.

PILIA-BORZA. Tell him you will confess.

ITHAMORE. [writing] OTHERWISE I'LL CONFESS ALL.-- Vanish, and return in a twinkle.

PILIA-BORZA. Let me alone; I'll use him in his kind.

ITHAMORE. Hang him, Jew! [Exit PILIA-BORZA with the letter.]

BELLAMIRA. Now, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap.-- Where are my maids? provide a cunning [154] banquet; Send to the merchant, bid him bring me silks; Shall Ithamore, my love, go in such rags?

ITHAMORE. And bid the jeweller come hither too.

BELLAMIRA. I have no husband; sweet, I'll marry thee.

ITHAMORE. 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;-- 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, Instead of sedge and reed, bear sugar-canes: Thou in those groves, by Dis above, Shalt live with me, and be my love. [155]

BELLAMIRA. Whither will I not go with gentle Ithamore?

Re-enter PILIA-BORZA.

ITHAMORE. How now! hast thou the gold [?]

PILIA-BORZA. Yes.

ITHAMORE. But came it freely? did the cow give down her milk freely?

PILIA-BORZA. At reading of the letter, he stared and stamped, and turned aside: I took him by the beard, [156] and looked upon him thus; told him he were best to send it: then he hugged and embraced me.

ITHAMORE. Rather for fear than love.

PILIA-BORZA. Then, like a Jew, he laughed and jeered, and told me he loved me for your sake, and said what a faithful servant you had been.

ITHAMORE. The more villain he to keep me thus: here's goodly 'parel, is there not?

PILIA-BORZA. To conclude, he gave me ten crowns. [Delivers the money to ITHAMORE.]

ITHAMORE. But ten? I'll not leave him worth a grey groat. Give me a ream of paper: we'll have a kingdom of gold for't. [157]

PILIA-BORZA. Write for five hundred crowns.

ITHAMORE. [writing] SIRRAH JEW, AS YOU LOVE YOUR LIFE, SEND ME FIVE HUNDRED CROWNS, AND GIVE THE BEARER A HUNDRED.--Tell him I must have't.

PILIA-BORZA. I warrant, your worship shall have't.

ITHAMORE. And, if he ask why I demand so much, tell him I scorn to write a line under a hundred crowns.

PILIA-BORZA. You'd make a rich poet, sir. I am gone. [Exit with the letter.]

ITHAMORE. Take thou the money; spend it for my sake.

BELLAMIRA. 'Tis not thy money, but thyself I weigh: Thus Bellamira esteems of gold; [Throws it aside.] But thus of thee. [Kisses him.]

ITHAMORE. That kiss again!--She runs division [158] of my lips. What an eye she casts on me! it twinkles like a star. [Aside.]