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.
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;
And here he comes.

Enter PILIA-BORSA.

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Pilia. Hold thee, wench, there's something for thee to spend. [Shews a bag of silver.] Bell. 'Tis silver. I disdain it.

1 Outside of Bellamira's house.

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Pilia. Ay, but the Jew has gold, 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 Enter ITHAMore.

man.

Bell. Hide the bag.

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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 [s0 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.

Abig. Hard-hearted father, unkind Barabas! Was this the pursuit 2 of thy policy!

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To make me show them favour severally,
That by my favour they should both be
slain?

Admit thou lov'dst not Lodowick for his sire,
Yet Don Mathias ne'er offended thee:
But thou wert set upon extreme revenge,
Because the [sire] dispossess'd thee once,
And could'st 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.

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54

But here comes cursed Ithamore, with the friar. Enter ITHAMORE and Friar [JACOMO].

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,

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TO

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,
Far from the Sun 5 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.
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,

grace;

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 thou yield to this that I entreat,
I cannot think but that thou hat'st my life.
Itha. Who, I, master? Why, I'll run to some

rock,

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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,

40

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.

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.

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 [co with a mess of rice porridge? That will preserve life, make her round and plump, and batten? more than you are aware.

Bar. 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.
Itha. How, master?

Bar. Thus, Ithamore.

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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;
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?

Bur. Belike there is some ceremony in 't. 80 There, Ithamore, must thou go place this pot! Stay, let me spice it first.

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

Bar. Prythee do [ITHAMORE tastes]. What say'st thou now?

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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,8
My purse, my coffer, and myself is thine.
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, 98
Whereof his sire, the Pope, was poisoned.
In few, the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane,
The juice of hebon, 10 and Cocytus' breath,

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:
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.

5

10

[SCENE VI.]3

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. 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.

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Where is the friar that convers'd with me?
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

F. Barn. What then?

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F. Barn. So, say how was their end?
Abig. Both jealous of my love, envied each

other, And by my father's practice, which is there Set down at large, the gallants were both slain. [Gives a written paper.] F. Barn. O monstrous villainy! Abig. To work my peace, this I confess to

thee;

Reveal it not, for then my father dies.

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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, s
Shall be condemn'd, and then sent to the fire.
Abig. So I have heard; pray, therefore keep
it close.6

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

And help me to exclaim against the Jew.

3 The interior of a convent. • Hated.

5 Plot. • Secret.

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Bur. To fast, to pray, and wear a shirt of hair,

70

And on my knees creep to Jerusalem.
Cellars of wine, and sollars 5 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 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,
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. Burn. Ő no, good Barabas, come to our house;

And, Barabas, you know

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