JEWS and TURKS
Presentation: [critical essay tba]
Presentation: Jews in England, A.D. 1066 - 1700
Readings:
fr. God Deuteronomy, 23.19 (KJV, 1611) [Moneylenders]
fr. God Gospel of John, chaps. 18-19 (KJV, 1611) [The Crucifixion, 2.14-15 (KJV, 1611) [Contrary to All Men]
fr. Anon. Alphonsus, Emporer of Germany (1604; ed. DWF 1999)
T.Heywood fr. A Challenge for Beauty (1636; ed. DWF 1999)
C. Marlowe The Jew of Malta (ca. 1589, pub. 1633; ed. DWF 1999)
W. Shakespeare extracts from The Merchant of Venice (1594; pub. 1599; Project Gutenberg text, 1993)
Deuteronomy 23.19 [on Moneylending]:
Thou shalt not lend upon usury to thy brother; usury of money, usury of victuals, usury of any thing that is lent upon usury:
Gospel of John, chap. 18 [the Crucifixion]:
12. Then the band and the captain and officers of the Jews took Jesus, and bound him, 13. And led him away to Annas first; for he was father-in-law to Caiaphas, which was the high priest that same year. 14. Now Caiaphas was he which gave counsel to the Jews, that it was expedient that one man should die for the people.....19. The high priest then asked Jesus of his disciples, and of his doctrine.
20. Jesus answered him, I spake openly to the world; I ever taught in the synagogue, and in the temple, whither the Jews always resort; and in secret have I said nothing. 21. Why askest thou me? ask them which heard me, what I have said unto them: behold, they know what I said.
22. And when he had thus spoken, one of the officers which stood by struck Jesus with the palm of his hand, saying, Answerest thou the high priest so?
23. Jesus answered him, If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil: but if well, why smitest thou me?
24. Now Annas had sent him bound unto Caiaphas the high priest..... 28. Then led they Jesus from Caiaphas unto the hall of judgment: and it was early; and they themselves went not into the judgment hall, lest they should be defiled; but that they might eat the passover.
29. Pilate then went out unto them, and said, What accusation bring ye against this man?
30. They answered and said unto him, If he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up unto thee.
31. Then said Pilate unto them, Take ye him, and judge him according to your law. The Jews therefore said unto him, It is not lawful for us to put any man to death.
32. (That the saying of Jesus might be fulfilled, which he spake, signifying what death he should die.)
33. Then Pilate entered into the judgment hall again, and called Jesus, and said unto him, Art thou the King of the Jews?
34. Jesus answered him, Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee of me?
35. Pilate answered, Am I a Jew? Thine own nation and the chief priests have delivered thee unto me: what hast thou done?
36. Jesus answered, My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence.
37. Pilate therefore said unto him, Art thou a king then?
Jesus answered, Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice.
38. Pilate saith unto him, What is truth? And when he had said this, he went out again unto the Jews, and saith unto them, I find in him no fault at all. 39. But ye have a custom, that I should release unto you one at the passover: will ye therefore that I release unto you the King of the Jews?
40. Then cried they all again, saying, Not this man, but Barabbas. Now Barabbas was a robber.
John, chap. 19.
1. Then Pilate therefore took Jesus, and scourged him. 2. And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on his head, and they put on him a purple robe, 3. And said, Hail, King of the Jews! and they smote him with their hands.
4. Pilate therefore went forth again, and saith unto them, Behold, I bring him forth to you, that ye may know that I find no fault in him.
5. Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns, and the purple robe. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the man!
6. When the chief priests therefore and officers saw him, they cried out, saying, Crucify him, crucify him.
Pilate saith unto them, Take ye him, and crucify him: for I find no fault in him.
7. The Jews answered him, We have a law, and by our law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God.
8. When Pilate therefore heard that saying, he was the more afraid; 9. And went again into the judgment hall, and saith unto Jesus, Whence art thou? But Jesus gave him no answer. 10. Then saith Pilate unto him, Speakest thou not unto me? knowest thou not that I have power to crucify thee, and have power to release thee?
11. Jesus answered, Thou couldest have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above: therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath the greater sin.
12. And from thenceforth Pilate sought to release him: but the Jews cried out, saying, If thou let this man go, thou art not Caesar's friend: whosoever maketh himself a king speaketh against Caesar.
13. When Pilate therefore heard that saying, he brought Jesus forth, and sat down in the judgment seat in a place that is called the Pavement, but in the Hebrew, Gabbatha. 14. And it was the preparation of the passover, and about the sixth hour: and he saith unto the Jews, Behold your King!
15. But they cried out, Away with him, away with him, crucify him.
Pilate saith unto them, Shall I crucify your King?
The chief priest answered, We have no king but Caesar.
16. Then delivered he him therefore unto them to be crucified. And they took Jesus, and led him away. 17. And he bearing his cross went forth into a place called the place of a skull, which is called in the Hebrew Golgotha: 18. Where they crucified him, and two other with him, on either side one, and Jesus in the midst.
19. And Pilate wrote a title, and put it on the cross. And the writing was, JESUS OF NAZARETH THE KING OF THE JEWS. 20. This title then read many of the Jews: for the place where Jesus was crucified was nigh to the city: and it was written in Hebrew, and Greek, and Latin. 21. Then said the chief priests of the Jews to Pilate, Write not, The King of the Jews; but that he said, I am King of the Jews.
22. Pilate answered, What I have written I have written.
St. Paul, I Thessalonians, 2.14-15:
14. For ye, brethren, became followers of the churches of God in Judaea which are in Christ Jesus: for ye also have suffered like things of your own countrymen, even as they have of the Jews: 15. Who both killed the Lord Jesus, and their own prophets, and have persecuted us; and they please not God, and are contrary to all men:...
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from Anon, Alphonsus, Emporer of Germany (1604)
Alex. If Edward and the Empress, whom I saved,
Will not requite it now, and save my life,
Then let me die, contentedly I die,
Having at last revenged my father’s death.
Sax. Villain, not all the world shall save thy life.
Edw. Hadst thou not been author of my Hedewick’s death, 475
I would have certainly saved thee from death;
But if my sentence now may take effect,
I would adjudge the villain to be hanged
As here the Jews are hanged in Germany--
Sax. Young Prince, it shall be so! Go, drag the slave
Unto the place of execution.
There let the Judas, on a Jewish gallows,
Hang by the heels between two English mastives--
There feed on dogs, let dogs there feed on thee
--And by all means prolong his misery.
Alex. O might thyself and all these English curs,
Instead of mastive dogs, hang by my side,
How sweetly would I tug upon your flesh.
Exit Alex.
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from Thomas Heywood, A Challenge for Beauty (1636)
[Enter Pineda and Centella.]
Pin. Here's both their ransoms,
[Throws down the bags.]
Turk. And there’s both the slaves,
A better penny-worth of flesh and blood
Turk never sold.
Fer. Nor Christian but a Spaniard
Would e’er have bought.
Pin. Oh yes, your English Jews, they'll buy and sell their fathers; prostrate their wives; and make money of their own children--the male stews can witness that. Come on Sir, you must along.
Mon. How, must?
Cent. And shall, prating, you English slave!
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Christopher Marlowe, The Jew of Malta (ca. 1589, pub. 1633; ed. DWF, 1999)
THE FAMOUS TRAGEDY OF THE RICH JEW OF MALTA.
Enter Machiavelli as Prologue
Mach. Albeit the world think Machiavel is dead,
Yet was his soul but flown beyond the Alps;
And, now the Guise is dead, is come from France,
To view this Land, and frolic with his friends.
To some perhaps my name is odious;
But such as love me guard me from their tongues,
And let them know that I am Machiavel,
And weigh not men, and therefore not men's words.
Admired I am of those that hate me most.
Though some speak openly against my books,
Yet will they read me and thereby attain
To Peter's Chair; And when they cast me off,
Are poisoned by my climbing followers.
I count Religion but a childish Toy
And hold there is no sin but Ignorance.
Birds of the Air will tell of murders past?
I am ashamed to hear such fooleries.
Many will talk of Title to a Crown.
What right had Caesar to the Empire?
Might first made Kings, and Laws were then most sure
When, like the Draco's, they were writ in blood.
Hence comes it that a strong built Citadel
Commands much more than letters can import:
Which maxim had Phalaris observed,
H' had never bellowed in a brazen Bull,
Of great one's envy: o' the poor petty wights
Let me be envied and not pitied!
But whither am I bound? I come not, I,
To read a lecture here in Britain,
But to present the Tragedy of a Jew
Who smiles to see how full his bags are crammed,
Which money was not got without my means.
I crave but this. Grace him as he deserves,
And let him not be entertained the worse
Because he favors me,
Enter Barabas in his Countinghouse, with heaps of gold before him.
Barabas So that of thus much that return was made;
And of the third part of the Persian ships
There was the venture summed and satisfied.
As for those Samnites and the men of Uz
That bought my Spanish Oils and Wines of Greece,
Here have I pursed their paltry silverlings.
Fie, what a trouble 'tis to count this trash!
Well fare the Arabians, who so richly pay
The things they traffic for with wedge of gold,
Whereof a man may easily in a day
Tell that which may maintain him all his life.
The needy groom, that never fingered groat
Would make a miracle of thus much coin,
But he whose steel barred coffers are crammed full,
And all his lifetime hath been tired
Wearying his fingers' ends with telling it,
Would in his age be loath to labor so,
And for a pound to sweat himself to death.
Give me the Merchants of the Indian Mines
That trade in metal of the purest mold,
The wealthy Moor, that in the Eastern rocks
Without control can pick his riches up
And in his house heap pearl like pebblestones,
Receive them free and sell them by the weight,
Bags of fiery Opals, Sapphires, Amethysts,
Jacinths, hard Topaz, grass green Emeralds,
Beauteous Rubies, sparkling Diamonds,
And seldseen costly stones of so great price
As one of them, indifferently rated
And of a Carat of this quantity,
May serve in peril of calamity
To ransom great Kings from captivity.
This is the ware wherein consists my wealth.
And thus methinks should men of judgment frame
Their means of traffic from the vulgar trade,
And as their wealth increaseth, so enclose
Infinite riches in a little room.
But now how stands the wind?
Into what corner peers my Halcyon's bill?
Ha! to the East? yes; See how stand the Vanes!
East and by South: why then I hope my ships
I sent for Egypt and the bordering Isles
Are gotten up by Nilus' winding banks.
Mine Argosy from Alexandria,
Loaden with Spice and Silks, now under sail,
Are smoothly gliding down by Candy shore
To Malta, through our Mediterranean sea.
But who comes here? How now?
Enter a Merchant.
Merchant. Barabas, thy ships are safe,
Riding in Malta Road, And all the Merchants
With other Merchandise are safe arrived,
And have sent me to know whether yourself
Will come and custom them.
Barabas. The ships are safe thou say'st, and richly fraught?
Merchant. They are.
Barabas. Why, then go bid them come a shore,
And bring with them their bills of entry.
I hope our credit in the Customhouse
Will serve as well as I were present there.
Go send 'em threescore Camels, thirty Mules,
And twenty Wagons, to bring up the ware.
But art thou master in a ship of mine,
And is thy credit not enough for that?
Merchant. The very Custom barely comes to more
Than many Merchants of the Town are worth,
And therefore far exceeds my credit, Sir.
Barabas. Go tell 'em the Jew of Malta sent thee, man.
Tush, who amongst 'em knows not Barabas?
Merchant. I go.
Barabas. So, then, there's somewhat come.
Sirrah, which of my ships art thou Master of?
Merchant. Of the Speranza, Sir.
Barabas. And saw'st thou not
Mine Argosy at Alexandria?
Thou couldst not come from Egypt or by Caire,
But at the entry there into the sea,
Where Nilus pays his tribute to the main,
Thou needs must sail by Alexandria.
Merchant. I neither saw them nor inquired of them:
But this we heard some of our seamen say:
They wondered how you durst with so much wealth
Trust such a crazed Vessel, and so far.
Barabas. Tush, they are wise! I know her and her strength.
But go, go thou thy ways, discharge thy Ship,
And bid my Factor bring his loading in.
And yet I wonder at this argosy.
Enter a second Merchant.
2d Merchant. Thine Argosy from Alexandria,
Know, Barabas, doth ride in Malta Road,
Laden with riches, and exceeding store
Of Persian silks, of gold, and Orient Pearl.
Barabas. How chance you came not with those other ships
That sailed by Egypt?
2d Merchant. Sir, we saw 'em not.
Barabas. Belike they coasted round by Candy shore
About their Oils or other businesses.
But 'twas ill done of you to come so far
Without the aid or conduct of their ships.
2d Merchant. Sir, we were wafted by a Spanish Fleet
That never left us till within a league,
That had the Galleys of the Turk in chase.
Barabas. Oh, they were going up to Sicily. Well, go
And bid the Merchants and my men dispatch
And come ashore, and see the fraught discharged.
2d Merchant. I go. (Exit.
Barabas. Thus trowls our fortune in by land and Sea,
And thus are we on every side enriched.
These are the Blessings promised to the Jews,
And herein was old Abram's happiness.
What more may Heaven do for earthly man
Than thus to pour out plenty in their laps,
Ripping the bowels of the earth for them,
Making the Sea their servant, and the winds
To drive their substance with successful blasts?
Who hateth me but for my happiness?
Or who is honored now but for his wealth?
Rather had I, a Jew, be hated thus,
Than pitied in a Christian poverty;
For I can see no fruits in all their faith,
But malice, falsehood, and excessive pride,
Which methinks fits not their profession.
Haply some hapless man hath conscience,
And for his conscience lives in beggary.
They say we are a scattered Nation:
I cannot tell, but we have scrambled up
More wealth by far than those that brag of faith.
There's Kirriah Jairim, the great Jew of Greece,
Obed in Bairseth, Nones in Portugal,
Myself in Malta, some in italy,
Many in France, and wealthy every one,
Ay, wealthier far than any Christian.
I must confess we come not to be Kings.
That's not our fault. Alas, our number's few,
And Crowns come either by succession
Or urged by force, and nothing violent,
Oft have I heard tell, can be permanent.
Give us a peaceful rule; make Christians Kings,
That thirst so much for Principality.
I have no charge, nor many children,
But one sole Daughter, whom I hold as dear
As Agamemnon did his Iphigen;
And all I have is hers. But who comes here?
Enter three Jews.
1. Jew. Tush, tell not me; 'twas done of policy.
2. Jew. Come, therefore, let us go to Barabas,
For he can counsel best in these affairs:
And here he comes.
Barabas. Why, how now, Countrymen?
Why flock you thus to me in multitudes?
What accident's betided to the Jews?
1. Jew. A fleet of warlike Galleys, Barabas,
Are come from Turkey and lie in our Road,
And they this day sit in the Council house
To entertain them and their Embassy.
Barabas. Why, let 'em come, so they come not to war,
Or let 'em war, so we be conquerors.
Nay, let 'em combat, conquer, and kill all,
So they spare me, my daughter, and my wealth. (Aside.
1. Jew. Were it for confirmation of a League,
They would not come in warlike manner thus.
2. Jew. I fear their coming will afflict us all.
Barabas. Fond men, what dream you of their multitudes?
What need they treat of peace that are in league?
The Turks and those of Malta are in league.
Tut, tut, there is some other matter in't.
1. Jew. Why, Barabas, they come for peace or war.
Barabas. Haply for neither, but to pass along,
Towards Venice by the Adriatic Sea,
With whom they have attempted many times,
But never could effect their Stratagem.
3. Jew. And very wisely said; it may be so.
2. Jew. But there's a meeting in the senate House,
And all the Jews in Malta must be there.
Barabas. Umh, all the Jews in Malta must be there.
Ay, like enough. Why then, let every man
Provide him and be there for fashion's sake.
If anything shall there concern our state,
Assure yourselves I'll look - unto myself. (Aside.
1. Jew. I know you will. - well, brethren, let us go.
2. Jew. Let's take our leaves. - Farewell, good
Barabas.
Barabas. Do so. Farewell, Zaareth; farewell, Temainte.
And, Barabas, now search this secret out.
Summon thy senses; call thy wits together:
These silly men mistake the matter clean.
Long to the Turk did Malta contribute,
Which Tribute - all in policy, I fear -
The Turks have let increase to such a sum
As all the wealth of Malta cannot pay,
And now by that advantage thinks, belike,
To seize upon the Town; ay, that he seeks.
Howe'er the world go, I'll make sure for one,
And seek in time to intercept the worst,
Warily guarding that which I ha' got.
Ego mihimet sum semper proximus.
Why, let 'em enter, let 'em take the Town.
Enter Governor of Malta, Knights met by
Bassoes of the Turk, Calymath.
Ferneze. Now, Bassoes, what demand you at our hands?
1 Basso. Know, Knights of Malta, that we came from Rhodes,
From Cyprus, Candy, and those other Isles
That lie betwixt the Mediterranean seas.
Ferneze. What's Cyprus, Candy, and those other Isles
To us or Malta? what at our hands demand ye?
1 Calymath. The ten years' tribute that remains unpaid.
Ferneze. Alas, my Lord, the sum is overgreat!
I hope your Highness will consider us.
1 Calymath. I wish, grave Governor, 'twere in my power
To favor you; but 'tis my father's cause,
Wherein I may not, nay, I dare not dally.
Ferneze. Then give us leave, great Selim Calymath.
1 Calymath. Stand all aside, and let the Knights determine,
And send to keep our Galleys under sail,
For happily we shall not tarry here.
Now, Governor, how are you resolved?
Ferneze. Thus: since your hard conditions are such
That you will needs have ten years' tribute past,
We may have time to make collection
Amongst the Inhabitants of Malta for't.
1 Basso. That's more than is in our Commission.
1 Calymath. What, Callapine, a little courtesy!
Let's know their time; perhaps it is not long;
And 'tis more Kingly to obtain by peace
Than to enforce conditions by constraint.
What respite ask you, Governor?
Ferneze. But a month.
1 Calymath. We grant a month, but see you keep your promise.
Now launch our Galleys back again to Sea,
Where we'll attend the respite you have ta'en,
And for the money send our messenger.
Farewell, great Governor, and brave Knights of Malta.
(Exeunt.
Ferneze. And all good fortune wait on Calymath.
Go one and call those Jews of Malta hither.
Were they not summoned to appear today?
1. Offic. They were, my Lord; and here they come.
(Enter Barabas and three Jews.
1. Knight.. Have you determined what to say to them?
Ferneze. Yes; give me leave - and, Hebrews, now come near.
From the Emperor of Turkey is arrived
Great Selim Calymath, his Highness' son,
To levy of us ten years' tribute past.
Now, then, here know that it concerneth us.
Barabas. Then, good my Lord, to keep your quiet still,
Your Lordship shall do well to let them have it.
Ferneze. Soft, Barabas, there's more 'longs to't than so.
To what this ten years' tribute will amount,
That we have cast, but cannot compass it
By reason of the wars, that robbed our store;
And therefore are we to request your aid.
Barabas. Alas, my Lord, we are no soldiers;
And what's our aid against so great a Prince?
1. Knight. Tut, Jew, we know thou art no soldier.
Thou art a Merchant and a moneyed man,
And 'tis thy money, Barabas, we seek.
Barabas. How, my Lord? my money?
Ferneze. Thine and the rest;
For, to be short, amongst you 'tmust be had.
1. Jew. Alas, my Lord, the most of us are poor.
Ferneze. Then let the rich increase your portions.
Barabas. Are strangers with your tribute to be taxed?
2. Knight. Have strangers leave with us to get their wealth?
Then let them with us contribute.
Barabas. How? equally?
Ferneze. No, Jew, like infidels;
For through our sufferance of your hateful lives,
Who stand accursed in the sight of heaven,
These taxes and afflictions are befallen,
And therefore thus we are determined;
Read there the Articles of our decrees.
Officer.. First, the tribute money of the Turks shall all be levied amongst the Jews, and each of them to pay one Half of his estate.
Barabas. How, half his estate? I hope you mean not mine.
Ferneze. Read on.
Officer.. Secondly, he that denies to pay shall straight become a Christian.
Barabas. How, a Christian? Hum, what's here to do?
Officer.. Lastly, he that denies this, shall absolutely lose all he has.
Three.Jews. Oh, my Lord, we will give half.
Barabas. Oh, earth-mettled villains, and no Hebrews born!
And will you basely thus submit yourselves
To leave your goods to their arbitrament?
Ferneze. Why, Barabas, wilt thou be christened?
Barabas. No, Governor, I will be no convertite.
Ferneze. Then pay thy half.
Barabas. Why, know you what you did by this device?
Half of my substance is a City's wealth.
Governor, it was not got so easily;
Nor will I part so slightly therewithal.
Ferneze. Sir, half is the penalty of our decree.
Either pay that, or we will seize on all.
Barabas. Corpo di dio! stay: you shall have half.
Let me be used but as my brethren are.
Ferneze. No, Jew, thou hast denied the Articles,
And now it cannot be recalled.
Barabas. Will you then steal my goods?
Is theft the ground of your Religion?
Ferneze. No, Jew; we take particularly thine
To save the ruin of a multitude,
And better one want for a common good
Than many perish for a private man.
Yet, Barabas, we will not banish thee,
But here in Malta, where thou gott'st thy wealth,
Live still, and, if thou canst, get more.
Barabas. Christians, what or how can I multiply?
Of nought is nothing made.
1. Knight.. From nought at first thou cam'st to little wealth,
From little unto more, from more to most,
If your first curse fall heavy on thy head,
And make thee poor and scorned of all the world,
'Tis not our fault, but thy inherent sin.
Barabas. What, bring you Scripture to confirm your wrongs?
Preach me not out of my possessions.
Some Jews are wicked, as all Christians are;
But say the Tribe that I descended of
Were all in general cast away for sin,
Shall I be tried for their transgression?
The man that dealeth righteously shall live.
And which of you can charge me otherwise?
Ferneze. Out, wretched Barabas!
Sham'st thou not thus to justify thyself,
As if we knew not thy profession?
If thou rely upon thy righteousness,
Be patient, and thy riches will increase.
Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness,
And covetousness, oh, 'tis a monstrous sin.
Barabas. Ay, but theft is worse. Tush, take not from me then,
For that is theft; and, if you rob me thus,
I must be forced to steal and compass more.
1. Knight.. Grave Governor, list not to his exclaims.
Convert his mansion to a Nunnery;
His house will harbor many holy Nuns.
(Enter Officers.
Ferneze. It shall be so. now, Officers, have you done?
1. Offic. Ay, my lord, we have seized upon the goods
And wares of Barabas, which, being valued,
Amount to more than all the wealth in Malta.
And of the other we have seized half.
Ferneze. Then we'll take order for the residue.
Barabas. Well, then, my Lord, say, are you satisfied?
You have my goods, my money, and my wealth,
My ships, my store, and all that I enjoyed.
And, having all, you can request no more,
Unless your unrelenting flinty hearts
Suppress all pity in your stony breasts,
And now shall move you to bereave my life.
Ferneze. No, Barabas. To stain our hands with blood
Is far from us and our profession.
Barabas. Why, I esteem the injury far less
To take the lives of miserable men
Than be the causers of their misery.
You have my wealth, the labor of my life,
The comfort of mine age, my children's hope,
And therefore ne'er distinquish of the wrong.
Ferneze. Content thee, Barabas; thou hast nought but right.
Barabas. Your extreme right does me exceeding wrong.
But take it to you, I' the devil's name!
Ferneze. Come, let us in and gather of these goods
The money for this tribute of the Turk.
1. Knight.. 'Tis necessary that be looked unto,
For if we break our day, we break the league,
And that will prove but simple policy.
(Exeunt.
Barabas. Ay, policy? that's their profession,
And not simplicity, as they suggest.
The plagues of Egypt and the curse of heaven,
Earth's barrenness, and all men's hatred,
Inflict upon them, thou great Primus Motor!
And here upon my knees, striking the earth,
I ban their souls to everlasting pains,
And extreme tortures of the fiery deep,
That thus have dealt with me in my distress.
1. Jew. Oh, yet be patient, gentle Barabas.
Barabas. Oh silly brethren, born to see this day,
Why stand you thus unmoved with my laments?
Why weep you not to think upon my wrongs?
Why pine not I, and die in this distress?
1. Jew. Why, Barabas, as hardly can we brook
The cruel handling of ourselves in this.
Thou seest they have taken half our goods.
Barabas. Why did you yield to their extortion?
You were a multitude, and I but one,
And of me only have they taken all.
1. Jew. Yet, brother Barabas, remember Job.
Barabas. What tell you me of Job? I wot his wealth
Was written thus: he had seven thousand sheep,
Three thousand Camels, and two hundred yoke
Of laboring Oxen, and five hundred
She Asses. but for every one of those,
Had they been valued at indifferent rate,
I had at home, and in mine Argosy
And other ships that came from Egypt last,
As much as would have bought his beasts and him,
And yet have kept enough to live upon;
So that not he, but I, may curse the day,
Thy fatal birthday, forlorn Barabas,
And henceforth wish for an eternal night,
That clouds of darkness may enclose my flesh,
And hide these extreme sorrows from mine eyes,
For only I have toiled to inherit here
The months of vanity and loss of time,
And painful nights have been appointed me.
2. Jew. Good Barabas, be patient.
Barabas. Ay, I pray, leave me in my patience.
You that were ne'er possessed of wealth are pleased with want.
But give him liberty at least to mourn,
That in a field amidst his enemies
Doth see his soldiers slain, himself disarmed,
And knows no means of his recovery.
Ay, let me sorrow for this sudden chance.
'Tis in the trouble of my spirit I speak:
Great injuries are not so soon forgot.
1. Jew. Come, let us leave him. In his ireful mood
Our words will but increase his ecstasy.
2. Jew. On, then. But, trust me, 'tis a misery
To see a man in such affliction.
Farewell, Barabas. (Exeunt.
Barabas. Ay, fare you well.
See the simplicity of these base slaves,
Who, for the villains have no wit themselves,
Think me to be a senseless lump of clay
That will with every water wash to dirt.
No, Barabas is born to better chance
And framed of finer mold than common men
That measure nought but by the present time.
A reaching thought will search his deepest wits
And cast with cunning for the time to come,
For evils are apt to happen every day.
But whither wends my beauteous Abigail?
Enter Abigail the Jew's daughter.
Oh, what has made my lovely daughter sad?
What, woman! moan not for a little loss.
Thy father has enough in store for thee.
Abigail. Not for myself, but aged Barabas,
Father, for thee lamenteth Abigail.
But I will learn to leave these fruitless tears,
And, urged thereto with my afflictions,
With fierce exclaims run to the Senate house,
And in the Senate reprehend them all,
And rend their hearts with tearing of my hair,
Till they reduce the wrongs done to my father.
Barabas. No, Abigail. Things past recovery
Are hardly cured with exclamations.
Be silent, Daughter. sufferance breeds ease,
And time may yield us an occasion,
Which on the sudden cannot serve the turn.
Besides, my girl, think me not all so fond
As negligently to forego so much
Without provision for thyself and me.
Ten thousand Portagues, besides great Pearls,
Rich costly Jewels, and Stones infinite,
Fearing the worst of this before it fell,
I closely hid.
Abigail. Where, father?
Barabas. In my house, my girl.
Abigail. Then shall they ne'er be seen of Barabas,
For they have seized upon thy house and wares.
Barabas. But they will give me leave once more, I trow,
To go into my house.
Abigail. That may they not,
For there I left the Governor placing Nuns,
Displacing me; and of thy house they mean
To make a Nunnery, where none but their own sect
Must enter in; men generally barred.
Barabas. My gold, my gold, and all my wealth is gone.
You partial heavens, have I deserved this plague?
What, will you thus oppose me, luckless Stars,
To make me desperate in my poverty?
And knowing me impatient in distress,
Think me so mad as I will hang myself,
That I may vanish o'er the earth in air
And leave no memory that e'er I was?
No, I will live; nor loathe I this my life.
And since you leave me in the Ocean thus
To sink or swim, and put me to my shifts,
I'll rouse my senses, and awake myself.
Daughter, I have it: thou perceiv'st the plight
Wherein these Christians have oppressed me.
Be ruled by me, for in extremity
We ought to make bar of no policy.
Abigail. Father, whate'er it be, to injure them
That have so manifestly wronged us,
What will not Abigail attempt?
Barabas. Why, so.
Then thus: thou told'st me they have turned my house
Into a Nunnery, and some Nuns are there?
Abigail. I did.
Barabas. Then, Abigail, there must my girl
Entreat the Abbess to be entertained.
Abigail. How? as a Nun?
Barabas. Ay, Daughter, for Religion
Hides many mischiefs from suspicion.
Abigail. Ay, but father, they will suspect me there.
Barabas. Let 'em suspect, but be thou so precise
As they may think it done of Holiness.
Entreat 'em fair, and give them friendly speech,
And seem to them as if thy sins were great,
Till thou hast gotten to be entertained.
Abigail. Thus, father, shall I much dissemble.
Barabas. Tush!
As good dissemble that thou never mean'st
As first mean truth and then dissemble it.
A counterfeit profession is better
Than unseen hypocrisy.
Abigail. Well, father, say I be entertained,
What then shall follow?
Barabas. This shall follow then:
There have I hid, close underneath the plank
That runs along the upper chamber floor,
The gold and Jewels which I kept for thee.
But here they come. Be cunning, Abigail.
Abigail. Then, father, go with me.
Barabas. No, Abigail, in this
It is not necessary I be seen,
For I will seem offended with thee for't.
Be close, my girl, for this must fetch my gold.
Enter three Friars and two Nuns.
Fr. Jacomo. Sisters,
We now are almost at the new made Nunnery.
Abbess. The better; for we love not to be seen.
'Tis 30 winters long since some of us
Did stray so far amongst the multitude.
Fr. Jacomo. But, Madam, this house
And quarters of this new made Nunnery
Will much delight you.
Abbess. It may be so. But who comes here?
Abigail. Grave Abbess, and you happy Virgins' guide,
Pity the state of a distressed Maid.
Abbess. What art thou, daughter?
Abigail. The hopeless daughter of a hapless Jew,
The Jew of Malta, wretched Barabas,
Sometimes the owner of a goodly house,
Which they have now turned to a Nunnery.
Abbess. Well, daughter, say, what is thy suit with us?
Abigail. Fearing the afflictions which my father feels
Proceed from sin or want of faith in us,
I'd pass away my life in penitence
And be a Novice in your Nunnery
To make atonement for my laboring soul.
Fr. Jacomo. No doubt, brother, but this proceedeth of the spirit.
Fr. Barnardine. Ay, and of a moving spirit too, brother;
But come, let us entreat she may be entertained.
Abbess. Well, daughter, we admit you for a Nun.
Abigail. First let me as a Novice learn to frame
My solitary life to your straight laws,
And let me lodge where I was wont to lie.
I do not doubt, by your divine precepts
And mine own industry, but to profit much.
Barabas. As much, I hope, as all I hid is worth. (Aside.
Abbess. Come, daughter, follow us.
Barabas. Why, how now, Abigail, what mak'st thou
Amongst these hateful Christians?
Fr. Jacomo. Hinder her not, thou man of little faith,
For she has mortified herself.
Barabas. How, mortified!
Fr. Jacomo. And is admitted to the Sisterhood.
Barabas. Child of perdition, and thy father's shame,
What wilt thou do among these hateful fiends?
I charge thee on my blessing that thou leave
These devils and their damned heresy.
Abigail. Father, give me...
(Whispers to her.
Barabas. Nay, back, Abigail,
And think upon the Jewels and the gold;
The board is marked thus that covers it.
Away, accursed, from thy father's sight!
Fr. Jacomo. Barabas, although thou art in misbelief
And wilt not see thine own afflictions,
Yet let thy daughter be no longer blind.
Barabas. Blind, Friar? I reck not thy persuasions.
The board is marked thus + that covers it
For I had rather die than see her thus.
Wilt thou forsake me too in my distress,
Seduced Daughter? Go, forget not. (Aside to her.
Becomes it Jews to be so credulous?
Tomorrow early I'll be at the door.
(Aside to her.
No, come not at me. If thou wilt, be damned.
Forget me, see me not; and so, be gone.
Farewell! Remember tomorrow morning. (Aside.
Out, out, thou wretch!
Enter Mathias.
Mathias. Who's this? fair Abigail, the rich Jew's
Daughter, become a Nun? her father's sudden fall
Has humbled her, and brought her down to this.
Tut, she were fitter for a tale of love
Than to be tired out with Orisons,
And better would she far become a bed,
Embraced in a friendly lover's arms,
Than rise at midnight to a solemn mass.
Enter Lodowick.
Lodowick. Why, how now, Don Mathias, in a dump?
Mathias. Believe me, Noble Lodowick, I have seen
The strangest sight, in my opinion,
That ever I beheld.
Lodowick. What was't, I prithee?
Mathias. A fair young maid, scarce 14 years of age,
The sweetest flower in Cytherea's field,
Cropped from the pleasures of the fruitful earth
And strangely metamorphosed Nun.
Lodowick. But say, What was she?
Mathias. Why, the rich Jew's daughter.
Lodowick. What? Barabas, whose goods were lately seized?
Is she so fair?
Mathias. And matchless beautiful.
As, had you seen her, 'twould have moved your heart,
Though countermined with walls of brass, to love
Or, at the least, to pity.
Lodowick. And if she be so fair as you report,
'Twere time well spent to go and visit her.
How say you? shall we?
Mathias. I must and will, Sir; there's no remedy.
Lodowick. And so will I too, or it shall go hard.
Farewell, Mathias.
Mathias. Farewell, Lodowick. (Exeunt.
Actus Secundus.
Enter Barabas, with a light.
Barabas. 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,
Vexed and tormented runs poor Barabas
With fatal curses towards these Christians.
The uncertain pleasures of swiftfooted 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.
Oh 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
Turn to eternal darkness after this.
No sleep can fasten on my watchful eyes,
Nor quiet enter my distempered 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 the sudden walk,
Come, and receive the Treasure I have found.
Barabas. Bueno para todos mi ganado no era.
As good go on, as sit so sadly thus.
But stay! what star shines yonder in the East?
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? (Throws down bags.
Abigail. Here, Hast thou't? There's more, and more, and more.
Barabas. Oh my girl,
My gold, my fortune, my felicity,
Strength to my soul, death to mine enemy.
Welcome the first beginner of my bliss.
Oh Abigail, Abigail, that I had thee here too,
Then my desires were fully satisfied.
But I will practice thy enlargement thence.
Oh girl, oh gold, oh beauty, oh my bliss!
(Hugs his 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.
Now, Phoebus, ope the eyelids 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. (Exeunt.
Enter Governor, Martin del Bosco, the Knights.
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?
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.
1. Knight. 'Tis true, my lord; therefore entreat him well.
Bosco. Our fraught is Grecians, Turks, and Afric Moors;
For late upon the coast of Corsica,
Because we vailed not to the Turkish Fleet,
Their creeping Galleys had us in the chase;
But suddenly the wind began to rise,
And then we luffed and tacked, and fought at ease.
Some have we fired, 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.
1. Knight. 'TDel Bosco, as thou lovest and honor'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.
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 here
To be at deadly enmity with Turks.
Ferneze. Captain, we know it, but our force is small.
Bosco. What is the sum that Calymath requires?
Ferneze. A hundred thousand Crowns.
Bosco. My Lord and King hath title to this Isle,
And he means quickly to expel you hence;
Therefore be ruled 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.
Bosco, thou shalt be Malta's General.
We and our warlike Knights will follow thee
Against these barbarous misbelieving Turks.
Bosco. So shall you imitate those you succeed;
For when their hideous force environed Rhodes,
Small though the number was that kept the Town,
They fought it out, and not a man survived
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 wrapped in smoke and fire.
Claim tribute where thou wilt, we are resolved.
Honor is bought with blood and not with gold.
(Exeunt.
Enter Officers, with slaves.
1. Offic. This is the Market place; here let 'em stand.
Fear not their sale, for they'll be quickly bought.
2. Officer. Everyone's price is written on his back,
And so much must they yield, or not be sold.
(Enter Barabas.
1. Offic. Here comes the Jew. Had not his goods been seized,
He'd give us present money for them all.
(Enter Barabas.
Barabas. In spite of these swine-eating Christians,
(Unchosen Nation, never circumcised,
Such as, poor villains, were ne'er thought upon
Till Titus and Vespasian conquered us,)
Am I become as wealthy as I was.
They hoped 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 learned in Florence how to kiss my hand,
Heave up my shoulders when they call me dog,
And duck as low as any barefoot Friar,
Hoping to see them starve upon a stall,
Or else be gathered 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 show myself to have more of the serpent
Than the dove; that is, more knave than fool.
Lodowick. Yond' walks the Jew: now for fair Abigail.
Barabas. Ay, ay, no doubt but she's at your command.
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.
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 the Air to purge ourselves,
For unto us the Promise doth belong.
Lodowick. Well, Barabas, canst help me to a Diamond?
Barabas. Oh, 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,
And the white leprosy. (Aside.
Lodowick. What sparkle does it give without a foil?
Barabas. The Diamond that I talk of ne'er was foiled.
But, when he touches it, it will be foiled.
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 shows it by night?
Barabas. Outshines Cynthia's rays.
You'll like it better far 'a nights than days.
(Aside.
Lodowick. And what's the price?
Barabas. Your life, and if you have it. Oh my Lord,
We will not jar about the price. come to my house
And I will giv't your honor - with a vengeance.
(Aside.
Lodowick. No, Barabas, I will deserve it first.
Barabas. Good sir,
Your father has deserved 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,
Seized all I had, and thrust me out a 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 afire,
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 Honorable 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, 200 crowns?
Do the Turks weigh so much?
1. Offic. 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,
So that, being bought, the Town seal might be got
To keep him for his lifetime from the gallows.
The Sessions day is critical to thieves,
And few or none 'scape but by being purged.
Lodowick. Ratest thou this Moor but at 200 plates?
1. Offic. No more, my Lord.
Barabas. Why should this Turk be dearer than that Moor?
1. Offic. Because he is young and has more qualities.
Barabas. What? hast the Philosopher's stone? and thou hast, break my head with it, I'll forgive thee.
Slave. 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, if you do well.
Slave. I will serve you, Sir.
Barabas. Some wicked trick or other. It may be, under color 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, and be but for sparing vittles: 'tis not a stone of beef a day will maintain you in these chops. Let me see one that's somewhat leaner.
1. Offic. 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.
1.Offic. 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 villainy.
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 Katharine]
Mathias. What makes the Jew and Lodowick so private?
I fear me 'tis about fair Abigail.
Barabas. Yonder comes Don Mathias. let us stay.
He loves my daughter, and she holds him dear,
But I have sworn to frustrate both their hopes,
And be revenged upon the - Governor.
(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 talked Don Lodowick with you?
Barabas. Tush, man, we talked 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
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.
(Exeunt.
Mathias. Sirrah Jew, remember the book.
Barabas. Marry, will I, sir.
1. Offic. Come, I have made
A reasonable market, let's away.
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 moved at nothing. See thou pity none,
But to thyself smile when the Christians moan.
Ithamore. Oh, brave master, I worship your nose for this.
Barabas. As for myself, I walk abroad anights
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 pinioned along by my door.
Being young, I studied Physic, and began
To practice first upon the Italian.
There I enriched the Priests with burials
And always kept the Sexton's arms in ure
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 pretense 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 filled 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 at an Inn,
And in the night time secretly would I steal
To travelers' Chambers, and there cut their throats.
Once at Jerusalem, where the pilgrims kneeled,
I strewed powder on the Marble stones,
And therewithal their knees would rankle so,
That I have laughed a good 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.
Lodowick. Oh, 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.
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. (Aside.
Dissemble, swear, protest, vow love to him;
He is not of the seed of Abraham. -
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 ere you come out.
Abigail. Oh, 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. -
Nay, on my life, it is my Factor's hand.
But go you in, I'll think upon the account.
The account is made, for Lodowick dies.
My Factor sends me word that a Merchant's fled
That owes me for a hundred Tun of Wine.
I weigh it thus much, I have wealth enough.
For now by this has he kissed Abigail,
And she vows love to him and he to her.
As sure as heaven rained Manna for the Jews,
So sure shall he and Don Mathias die.
His father was my chiefest enemy.
Whither goes Don Mathias? stay a while.
Enter Mathias.
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. Oh, 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 keyhole will he talk to her,
While she runs to the window, looking out
When you should come and hale him from the door.
Mathias. Oh treacherous Lodowick!
Barabas. Even now, as I came home, he slipped 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.
Enter Lodowick, 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.
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 baseborn peasant mad?
Barabas. 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.
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.
Lodowick. Barabas, thou know'st I have loved 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 unsoiled.
Oh, 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
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 Messiah 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.
Abigail. What? shall I be betrothed to Lodowick?
Barabas. It is 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.
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 longed.
(Aside.
Barabas. So have not I; but yet I hope I shall.
Abigail. Oh wretched Abigail, what hast thou done?
Lodowick. Why on the sudden is your color changed?
Abigail. I know not. But farewell; I must be gone.
Barabas. Stay her, but let her not speak one word more.
Lodowick. Mute a the sudden! here's a sudden change.
Barabas. Oh muse not at it. 'tis the Hebrew's guise,
That maidens new betrothed should weep a while.
Trouble her not. Sweet Lodowick, depart.
She is thy wife, and thou shalt be mine heir.
Lodowick. Oh, is't the custom? then I am resolved.
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 revenged.
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 stabbed: 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 accessory 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 incensed 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.
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 performed.
Ithamore. Oh, 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,
And tell him that it comes from Lodowick.
Ithamore. 'Tis poisoned, is it not?
Barabas. No, no; and yet it might be done that way.
It is a challenge feigned from Lodowick.
Ithamore. Fear not. I will so set his heart afire,
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.
(Exit.
Barabas. Away, then!
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.
Actus Tertius.
Enter a Courtesan.
Bellamira. Since this Town was besieged, 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.
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 my 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.
Enter Ithamore.
Bellamira. Hide the bag.
Pilia-Borza. Look not towards him, let's away. zounds, what a looking thou keep'st; thou'lt betray's anon.
Ithamore. O, the sweetest face that ever I beheld! I know she is a Courtesan by her attire. now would I give a
Hundred of the Jew's Crowns that I had such a Concubine.
Well, I have delivered the challenge in such sort,
As meet they will and fighting die -- brave sport!
(Exit.
Enter Mathias.
Mathias. This is the place. Now Abigail shall see
Whether Mathias holds her dear or no.
(Enter Lodowick, reading.
What, dares the villain write in such base terms?
Lodowick. I did it -- and revenge it, if thou dar'st.
Fight: Enter Barabas above.
Barabas. Oh, bravely fought! and yet they thrust not home.
Now, Lodowick! now, Mathias! so!
So, now they have showed themselves to be tall fellows.
Within. Part 'em, part 'em!
Barabas. Ay, part 'em, now they are dead. Farewell, farewell. (Exit.
Enter Governor, Mater.
Ferneze. What sight is this? my Lodowick slain!
These arms of mine shall be thy Sepulcher.
Katharine. Who is this? my son Mathias slain!
Ferneze. Oh, Lodowick, hadst thou perished by the Turk,
Wretched Ferneze might have venged 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 grieved enough.
Ferneze. Oh, 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 loved 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 interred
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 forced their hands divide united hearts.
Come, Katharine, our losses equal are;
Then of true grief let us take equal share. (Exeunt.
(Enter Ithamore.
Ithamore. Why, was there ever seen such villainy.
So neatly plotted, and so well performed?
Both held in hand, and flatly both beguiled?
(Enter Abigail.
Abigail. Why, how now, Ithamore! why laugh'st thou so?
Ithamore. Oh, Mistress! ha, ha, ha!
Abigail. Why, what ail'st thou?
Ithamore. Oh, my master!
Abigail. Ha!
Ithamore. Oh, Mistress, I have the bravest, gravest, secret
Subtle, bottle-nosed knave to my Master, that ever
Gentleman had.
Abigail. Say, knave, why rail'st upon my father thus?
Ithamore. Oh, my master has the bravest policy.
Abigail. Wherein?
Ithamore. Why, know you not?
Abigail. Why, no.
Ithamore. Know you not of Mathias' and Don Lodowick's disaster?
Abigail. No. What was it?
Ithamore. Why, the devil invented a challenge, 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.
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,
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 show them favor severally,
That by my favor 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 dispossessed 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.
Enter Ithamore, Friar.
Fr. Jacomo. Virgo, salve.
Ithamore. When duck you?
Abigail. Welcome, grave Friar. Ithamore, begone.
(Exit.
Know, holy Sir, I am bold to solicit thee.
Fr. Jacomo. Wherein?
Abigail. To get me be admitted for a Nun.
Fr. Jacomo. Why, Abigail, it is not yet long since
That I did labor thy admission,
And then thou didst not like that holy life.
Abigail. Then were my thoughts so frail and unconfirmed
As I was chained to follies of the world,
But now experience, purchased with grief,
Has made me see the difference of things.
My sinful soul, alas, hath paced too long
The fatal Labyrinth of misbelief,
Far from the Son that gives eternal life.
Fr. Jacomo. Who taught thee this?
Abigail. The Abbess of the house,
Whose zealous admonition I embrace.
Oh, therefore, Jacomo, let me be one,
Although unworthy, of that Sisterhood.
Fr. 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.
Fr. Jacomo. Thy father's, how?
Abigail. Nay, you shall pardon me. oh Barabas,
Though thou deservest hardly at my hands,
Yet never shall these lips bewray thy life.
Fr. Jacomo. Come, shall we go?
Abigail. My duty waits on you. (Exeunt.
Enter Barabas, reading a letter.
Barabas. What, Abigail become a Nun again?
False and unkind! what, hast thou lost thy father?
And, all unknown and unconstrained of me,
And thou again got to the Nunnery?
Now here she writes, and wills me to repent.
Repentance? Spurca! what pretendeth 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? Oh Ithamore, come near.
Come near, my love; come near, thy master's life,
My trusty servant, nay, my second self,
For I have now no hope but even in thee,
And on that hope my happiness is built.
When saw'st thou Abigail?
Ithamore. Today.
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. Oh 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 blest of me, nor come within my gates,
But perish underneath my bitter curse,
Like Cain by Adam, for his brother's death.
Ithamore. Oh, master!
Barabas. Ithamore, entreat not for her. I am moved,
And she is hateful to my soul and me,
And, lest 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 anything for your sweet sake.
Barabas. Oh 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. I go, Sir.
(Exit.
Barabas. Thus every villain ambles after wealth,
Although he ne'er be richer than in hope.
But, hush't!
Enter Ithamore with the pot.
Ithamore. Here 'tis, Master.
Barabas. Well said, Ithamore.
What, hast thou brought the Ladle with thee too?
Ithamore. Yes, Sir. The proverb says, 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 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 called
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.
Stay; let me spice it first.
Ithamore. Pray do, and let me help you, Master.
Pray, let me taste first.
Barabas. Prithee do. 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 spared.
Assure thyself thou shalt have broth by the eye.
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, the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane,
The juice of Hebon, 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? what shall I do with it?
Barabas. Oh my sweet Ithamore, go set it down,
And come again as 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.
Barabas. I'll pay thee with a vengeance, Ithamore.
(Exit.
Enter Governor, Bosco, Knights, Basso.
Ferneze. Welcome, great Bassoes, how fares Calymath?
What wind drives you thus into Malta road?
Bas. 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.
Bas. To you of Malta thus saith Calymath:
The time you took for respite is at hand
For the performance of your promise past;
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,
Shall overflow it with their refluence.
Bas. Well, Governor, since thou hast broke the league
By flat denial of the promised 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:
And now, you men of Malta, look about,
And let's provide to welcome Calymath.
Close your Portcullis, charge your Basilisks,
And as you profitably take up Arms,
So now courageously encounter them,
For by this Answer broken is the league,
And nought is to be looked for now but wars,
And nought to us more welcome is than wars.
(Exeunt.
Enter two Friars.
Fr. Jacomo. Oh, brother, brother, all the Nuns are sick,
And Physic will not help them; they must die.
Fr. Barnardine. The Abbess sent for me to be confessed:
Oh, what a sad confession will there be.
Fr. Jacomo. And so did fair Maria send for me.
I'll to her lodging; hereabouts she lies. (Exit.
Enter Abigail.
Fr. Barnardine. What, all dead save only Abigail?
Abigail. And I shall die too, for I feel death coming.
Where is the Friar that conversed with me?
Fr. Barnardine. Oh, 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 lived religiously,
Chaste, and devout, much sorrowing for my sins.
But, ere I came...
Fr. 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?
Fr. Barnardine. Yes, what of them?
Abigail. My father did contract me to 'em both:
First to Don Lodowick; him I never loved.
Mathias was the man that I held dear,
And for his sake did I become a Nun.
Fr. Barnardine. So say, how was their end?
Abigail. 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.
Fr. Barnardine. Oh, monstrous villainy!
Abigail. To work my peace, this I confess to thee.
Reveal it not, for then my father dies.
Fr. Barnardine. Know that Confession must not be revealed.
The Canon Law forbids it, and the Priest
That makes it known, being degraded first,
Shall be condemned, 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 saved,
And witness that I die a Christian.
Fr. 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.
Enter First Friar.
Fr. Jacomo. Oh, brother, all the Nuns are dead. Let's bury them.
Fr. Barnardine. First help to bury this. Then go with me,
And help me to exclaim against the Jew.
Fr. Jacomo. Why, what has he done?
Fr. Barnardine. A thing that makes me tremble to unfold.
Fr. Jacomo. What, has he crucified a child?
Fr. Barnardine. No, but a worse thing. 'twas told me in shrift.
Thou know'st 'tis death and if it be revealed.
Come, let's away. (Exeunt.
Actus Quartus.
Enter Barabas, Ithamore. Bells within.
Barabas. There is no music to 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 lived so long,
An Hebrew born, and would become a Christian.
Cazzo, diabolo!
Enter the two Friars.
Ithamore. Look, look, Master. Here come two religious caterpillars.
Barabas. I smelt 'em ere they came.
Ithamore. God-a-mercy, nose! come, let's begone.
Fr. Barnardine. Stay, wicked Jew; repent, I say, and stay.
Fr. Jacomo. Thou hast offended, therefore must be damned.
Barabas. I fear they know we sent the poisoned broth.
Ithamore. And so do I, master; therefore speak 'em fair.
Fr. Barnardine. Barabas, thou hast...
Fr. Jacomo. Ay, that thou hast...
Barabas. True, I have money. What though I have?
Fr. Barnardine. Thou art a...
Fr. Jacomo. Ay, that thou art a...
Barabas. What needs all this? I know I am a Jew.
Fr. Barnardine. Thy daughter...
Fr. Jacomo. Ay, thy daughter...
Barabas. Oh, speak not of her; then I die with grief.
Fr. Barnardine. Remember that...
Fr. Jacomo. Ay, remember that...
Barabas. I must needs say that I have been a great usurer.
Fr. Barnardine. Thou hast committed...
Barabas. Fornication? but that was in another Country;
And besides the Wench is dead.
Fr. Barnardine. Ay, but Barabas, remember Mathias and Don
Lodowick.
Barabas. Why, what of them?
Fr. Barnardine. I will not say that by a forged challenge they met.
Barabas. She has confessed, and we are both undone,
My bosom intimates. But I must dissemble. (Aside.
Oh holy Friars, the burden of my sins
Lies 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,
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 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 full of Wheat,
Warehouses stuffed 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 baptized, and live therein.
Fr. Jacomo. Oh, good Barabas, come to our house.
Fr. Barnardine. Oh no, good Barabas, come to our house.
And Barabas, you know...
Barabas. I know that I have highly sinned.
You shall convert me. You shall have all my wealth.
Fr. Jacomo. Oh Barabas, their Laws are strict.
Barabas. I know they are, and I will be with you.
Fr. Barnardine. They wear no shirts, and they go barefoot too.
Barabas. Then 'tis not for me; and I am resolved
You shall confess me, and have all my goods.
Fr. 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.
Fr. Jacomo. I'll be with you tonight.
Barabas. Come to my house at one o'clock this night.
Fr. Jacomo. You hear your answer, and you may be gone.
Fr. Barnardine. Why go, get you away.
Fr. Jacomo. I will not go for thee.
Fr. Barnardine. Not? then I'll make thee, rogue.
Fr. Jacomo. How! dost call me rogue? (Fight.
Ithamore. Part 'em, master, part 'em.
Barabas. This is mere frailty. Brethren, be content.
Friar Bernardine, go you with Ithamore.
You know my mind; let me alone with him.
Fr. Jacomo. Why does he go to thy house? let him begone.
Barabas. I'll give him something and so stop his mouth.
(Exit.
I never heard of any man but he
Maligned 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. oh Jacomo, fail not, but come.
Fr. Jacomo. But, Barabas, who shall be your godfathers?
For presently you shall be shrived.
Barabas. Marry, the Turk shall be one of my godfathers,
But not a word to any of your Convent.
Fr. Jacomo. I warrant thee, Barabas. (Exit.
Barabas. So, now the fear is past, and I am safe,
For he that shrived her is within my house.
What if I murdered him ere Jacomo comes?
Now I have such a plot for both their lives
As never Jew nor Christian knew the like:
One turned 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
That I will leave my house, my goods, and all,
To fast and be well whipped? I'll none of that.
Now, Friar Bernardine, I come to you,
I'll feast you, lodge you, give you fair words,
And after that, I and my trusty Turk --
No more, but so. It must and shall be done.
Ithamore, tell me, is the Friar asleep?
Enter Ithamore.
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?
Oh, how I long to see him shake his heels.
Barabas. Come on, sirrah,
Off with your girdle. Make a handsome noose.
Friar, awake!
Fr. 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.
Fr. Barnardine. What, will you have my life?
Barabas. Pull hard, I say. you would have had my goods.
Ithamore. Ay, and our lives too. Therefore pull amain.
'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. 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 lived?
What time a night is't now, sweet Ithamore?
Ithamore. Towards one.
Enter Jacomo.
Barabas. Then will not Jacomo be long from hence.
Fr. Jacomo. This is the hour wherein I shall proceed;
Oh, happy hour, wherein I shall convert
An Infidel and bring his gold into our treasury.
But soft! is not this Bernardine? it is;
And understanding I should come this way,
Stands here a purpose, meaning me some wrong,
And intercept my going to the Jew. Bernardine!
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.
Strike him, he falls.
Enter Barabas.
Barabas. Why how now, Jacomo! what hast thou done?
Fr. Jacomo. Why, stricken him that would have struck at me.
Barabas. Who is it? Bernardine? now out, alas, he is slain.
Ithamore. Ay, master, he's slain. look how his brains drop out on's nose.
Fr. 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.
Fr. Jacomo. Good Barabas, let me go.
Barabas. No, pardon me. the Law must have his course.
I must be forced to give in evidence
That being importuned by this Bernardine
To be a Christian, I shut him out,
And there he sat. 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 stayed.
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. Tomorrow is the Sessions; you shall to it.
Come, Ithamore, let's help to take him hence.
Fr. 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 Courtesan 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 think'st 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 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 Nonplus at the critical aspect of my terrible countenance.
Bellamira. And where didst meet him?
Pilia-Borza. Upon mine own freehold, within 40 foot of the gallows, conning his neck verse, I take it, looking of 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 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, coming to the execution, a fellow met me with a muschatoes 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 ten pence? I'll be gone.
Bellamira. Is't not a sweet faced youth, Pilia?
Ithamore. Again, sweet youth. 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.
Bellamira. Whither so soon?
Ithamore. I'll go steal some money from my Master to make me handsome. Pray, pardon me; I must go see a ship discharged.
Bellamira. Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus?
Pilia-Borza. And ye did but know how she loves you, Sir!
Ithamore. Nay, I care not how much she loves me. -
Sweet Allamira, would I had my Master's wealth for thy sake!
Pilia-Borza. And you can have it, Sir, and 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?
Pilia-Borza. Let me alone; do but you speak him fair.
But you know some secrets of the Jew,
Which, if they were revealed, would do him harm.
Ithamore. 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-Borza. Send for a hundred Crowns at least.
(He writes.
Ithamore. Ten hundred thousand crowns. --Master Barabas...'
Pilia-Borza. Write not so submissively, but threatening him.
Ithamore. 'Sirrah Barabas, send me a hundred crowns.'
Pilia-Borza. Put in two hundred at least.
Ithamore. 'I charge thee send me 300 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. '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!
Bellamira. Now, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap.
Where are my Maids? provide a running 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 hurled,
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.
Bellamira. Whither will I not go with gentle Ithamore?
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, 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.
Ithamore. But ten? I'll not leave him worth a gray groat.
Give me a ream of paper. we'll have a kingdom of gold for't.
Pilia-Borza. Write for 500 Crowns.
Ithamore. 'sirrah Jew, as you love your life, send me 500 crowns and give the Bearer 100. Tell him I must hav't.
Pilia-Borza. I warrant, you worship shall hav'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.
Ithamore. Take thou the money; spend it for my sake.
Bellamira. 'tis not thy money, but thyself I weigh.
Thus Bellamira esteems of gold.
But thus of thee... (Kisses him.
Ithamore. That kiss again. She runs division of my lips.
What an eye she casts on me! It twinkles like a Star.
Bellamira. Come, my dear love, let's in and sleep together.
Ithamore. Oh, that ten thousand nights were put in one,
That we might sleep seven years together afore we wake.
Bellamira. Come, Amorous wag; first banquet, and then sleep.
Enter Barabas, reading a letter.
Barabas. 'Barabas, send me 300 Crowns.'
Plain Barabas? oh, 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.
He sent a shaggy, tottered, 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 hacked, some fingers cut quite off,
Who when he speaks grunts like a hog, and looks
Like one that is employed in Catzerie
And cross biting; 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;
And, when he comes: Oh that he were but here!
Enter Pilia-borza.
Pilia-Borza. Jew, I must ha' more gold.
Barabas. Why? want'st thou any of thy tale?
Pilia-Borza. No, but 300 will not serve his turn.
Barabas. Not serve his turn, Sir?
Pilia-Borza. No, sir, and therefore I must have 500 more.
Barabas. I'll rather...
Pilia-Borza. Oh, good words, Sir, and send it you were best. see, there's his letter.
Barabas. Might he not as well come as send; pray, bid him come and fetch it. What he writes for you, ye shall have straight.
Pilia-Borza. Ay, and the rest too, or else...
Barabas. I must make this villain away. please you dine with me, Sir? and you shall be most heartily poisoned. (Aside.
Pilia-Borza. No, god-a-mercy. shall I have these crowns?
Barabas. I cannot do it; I have lost my keys.
Pilia-Borza. Oh, if that be all, I can pick ope your locks.
Barabas. Or climb up to my Countinghouse window? You know my meaning?
Pilia-Borza. I know enough, and therefore talk not to me of your countinghouse. The gold, or know, Jew, it is in my power to hang thee.
Barabas. I am betrayed.
'Tis not 500 Crowns that I esteem.
I am not moved at that. This angers me,
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-Borza. Here's many words, but no crowns. the crowns!
Barabas. Commend me to him, Sir, most humbly,
And unto your good mistress as unknown.
Pilia-Borza. Speak, shall I have 'em, Sir?
Barabas. Sir, here they are.
Oh, that I should part with so much gold!
Here, take 'em, fellow, with as good a will -
As I would see thee hanged: oh, love stops my breath.
Never loved man servant as I do Ithamore.
Pilia-Borza. I know it, Sir.
Barabas. Pray, when Sir, shall I see you at my house?
Pilia-Borza. Soon enough to your cost, Sir. Fare you well.
(Exit.
Barabas. Nay, to thine own cost, villain, if thou com'st.
Was ever Jew tormented as I am?
To have a shagrag knave to come
300 Crowns, and then 500 Crowns!
Well, I must seek a means to rid 'em all,
And presently; for in his villainy
He will tell all he knows, and I shall die for't.
I have it.
I will in some disguise go see the slave,
And how the villain revels with my gold. (Exit.
Enter Courtesan, Ithamore, Pilia-borza.
Bellamira. I'll pledge thee love, and therefore drink it off.
Ithamore. Say'st thou me so? have at it! and do you hear?
Bellamira. Go to, it shall be so.
Ithamore. Of that condition I will drink it up. Here's to thee.
Bellamira. Nay, I'll have all or none.
Ithamore. There. If thou lov'st me, do not leave a drop.
Bellamira. Love thee? fill me three glasses.
Ithamore. Three and fifty dozen! I'll pledge thee.
Pilia-Borza. Knavely spoke and like a Knight at Arms.
Ithamore. Hey, Rivo Castiliano, a man's a man.
Bellamira. Now to the Jew.
Ithamore. Ha! to the Jew! and send me money you were best.
Pilia-Borza. What wouldst thou do, if he should send thee none?
Ithamore. Do nothing, but I know what I know. He's a murderer.
Bellamira. I had not thought he had been so brave a man.
Ithamore. You knew Mathias and the Governor's son. He and I killed 'em both, and yet never touched 'em.
Pilia-Borza. Oh, bravely done!
Ithamore. I carried the broth that poisoned the Nuns, and he and I, snickle hand too fast, strangled a Friar.
Bellamira. You two alone?
Ithamore. We two. And 'twas never known, nor never shall be for me.
Pilia-Borza. This shall with me unto the Governor.
Bellamira. And fit it should. but first let's ha' more gold.
Come, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap.
Ithamore. 'Love me little, love me long;' let music rumble,
Whilst I in thy incony lap do tumble.
Enter Barabas with a Lute, disguised.
Bellamira. A French Musician! come, let's hear your skill.
Barabas. Must tuna my Lute for sound, twang, twang, first.
Ithamore. Wilt drink, Frenchman? here's to thee with a -
Pox on this drunken hiccup!
Barabas. Gramercy, Monsieur.
Bellamira. Prithee, Pilia-borza, bid the Fiddler give me the posy in his hat there.
Pilia-Borza. Sirrah, you must give my mistress your posy.
Barabas. A votre commandement, Madame.
Bellamira. How sweet, my Ithamore, the flowers smell.
Ithamore. Like thy breath, sweetheart; no violet like 'em.
Pilia-Borza. Foh, methinks they stink like a Hollyhock.
Barabas. So, now I am revenged upon 'em all.
The scent thereof was death; I poisoned it.
Ithamore. Play, Fiddler, or I'll cut your cat's guts into chitterlings.
Barabas. Pardonnez moi, be no in tune yet; so now, now,
All be in.
Ithamore. Give him a crown, and fill me out more wine.
Pilia-Borza. There's two crowns for thee. play.
Barabas. How liberally the villain gives me mine own gold.
(Aside.
Pilia-Borza. Methinks he fingers very well.
Barabas. So did you when you stole my gold. (Aside.
Pilia-Borza. How swift he runs.
Barabas. You run swifter when you threw my gold out of my window. (Aside.
Bellamira. Musician, hast been in Malta long?
Barabas. Two, three, four month, Madam.
Ithamore. Dost not know a Jew, one Barabas?
Barabas. Very mush, Monsieur, you no be his man?
Pilia-Borza. His man?
Ithamore. I scorn the Peasant; tell him so.
Barabas. He knows it already.
Ithamore. 'tis a strange thing of that Jew: he lives upon pickled grasshoppers and sauced Mushrumps.
Barabas. What a slave's this! The Governor feeds not as I do. (Aside.
Ithamore. He never put on clean shirt since he was circumcised.
Barabas. Oh rascal! I change myself twice a day. (Aside.
Ithamore. The Hat he wears, Judas left under the Elder when he hanged himself.
Barabas. 'Twas sent me for a present from the great Cham.
(Aside.
Pilia-Borza. A nasty slave he is. Whither now, Fiddler?
Barabas. Pardonnez moi, Monsieur; me be no well. (Exit.
Pilia-Borza. Farewell, Fiddler. One letter more to the Jew.
Bellamira. Prithee, sweet love, one more, and write it sharp.
Ithamore. No, I'll send by word of mouth now. Bid him deliver thee a thousand Crowns, by the same token, that the Nuns loved Rice, that friar Bernardine slept in his own clothes. Any of 'em will do it.
Pilia-Borza. Let me alone to urge it, now I know the meaning.
Ithamore. The meaning has a meaning. Come, let's in.
To undo a Jew is charity, and not sin. (Exeunt.
Actus Quintus.
Enter Governor, Knights, Martin Del Bosco.
Ferneze. Now, Gentlemen, betake you to your Arms,
And see that Malta be well fortified.
And it behooves you to be resolute,
For Calymath, having hovered here so long,
Will win the Town or die before the walls.
1. Knight. A nd die he shall, for we will never yield.
Enter Courtesan, Pilia-borza.
Bellamira. Oh, bring us to the Governor.
Ferneze. Away with her! she is a Courtesan.
Bellamira. Whate'er I am, yet, Governor, hear me speak.
I bring thee news by whom thy son was slain.
Mathias did it not: it was the Jew.
Pilia-Borza. Who, besides the slaughter of these Gentlemen,
Poisoned his own daughter and the Nuns,
Strangled a Friar, and I know not what
Mischief beside.
Ferneze. Had we but proof of this...
Bellamira. Strong proof, my Lord. his man's now at my lodging.
That was his Agent, he'll confess it all.
Ferneze. Go fetch him straight. I always feared that Jew.
Enter Jew, Ithamore.
Barabas. I'll go alone, dogs, do not hale me thus.
Ithamore. Nor me neither. I cannot outrun you, Constable.
Oh, my belly.
Barabas. One dram of powder more had made all sure.
What a damned slave was i!
Ferneze. Make fires! heat irons! let the rack be fetched!
1. Knight. Nay, stay, my Lord; 'tmay be he will confess.
Barabas. Confess? what mean you, Lords? who should confess?
Ferneze. Thou and thy Turk; 'twas you that slew my son.
Ithamore. Guilty, my Lord, I confess; your son and Mathias were both contracted unto Abigail. He forged a counterfeit challenge.
Barabas. Who carried that challenge?
Ithamore. I carried it, I confess. But who writ it? Marry, even he that strangled Bernardine, poisoned the Nuns and his own daughter.
Ferneze. Away with him! his sight is death to me.
Barabas. For what? you men of Malta, hear me speak.
She is a Courtesan, and he a thief,
And he my bondman. Let me have law,
For none of this can prejudice my life.
Ferneze. Once more, away with him! you shall have law.
Barabas. Devils, do your worst. I live in spite of you.
As these have spoke, so be it to their souls!
I hope the poisoned flowers will work anon. (Exit.
Enter Mater.
Katharine. Was my Mathias murdered by the Jew?
Ferneze, 'twas thy son that murdered him.
Ferneze. Be patient, gentle Madam; it was he.
He forged the daring challenge made them fight.
Katharine. Where is the Jew? where is that murderer?
Ferneze. In prison, till the Law has passed on him.
Enter Officer.
1. Offic. My lord, the Courtesan and her man are dead;
So is the Turk and Barabas the Jew.
Ferneze. Dead?
1. Offic. Dead, my Lord, and here they bring his body.
Bosco. This sudden death of his is very strange.
Ferneze. Wonder not at it, Sir; the heavens are just.
Their deaths were like their lives; then think not of 'em.
Since they are dead, let them be buried.
For the Jew's body, throw that o'er the walls
To be a prey for Vultures and wild beasts.
So, now away and fortify the Town.
(Exeunt.
Barabas. What, all alone? well fare, sleepy drink!
I'll be revenged on this accursed Town;
For by my means Calymath shall enter in.
I'll help to slay their children and their wives,
To fire the Churches, pull their houses down,
Take my goods too, and seize upon my lands.
I hope to see the Governor a slave
And, rowing in a Galley, whipped to death.
Enter Calymath, Bassoes, Turks.
Calymath. Whom have we there? a spy?
Barabas. Yes, my good Lord, one that can spy a place
Where you may enter and surprise the Town.
My name is Barabas; I am a Jew.
Calymath. Art thou that Jew whose goods we heard were sold
For Tribute money?
Barabas. The very same, my Lord.
And since that time they have hired a slave, my man,
To accuse me of a thousand villainies.
I was imprisoned, but 'scaped their hands.
Calymath. Didst break prison?
Barabas. No, no.
I drank of Poppy and cold mandrake juice,
And being asleep, belike they thought me dead
And threw me o'er the walls. So, or how else,
The Jew is here and rests at your command.
Calymath. 'Twas bravely done. but tell me, Barabas,
Canst thou, as thou report'st, make Malta ours?
Barabas. Fear not, my Lord; for here against the Sluice,
The rock is hollow, and of purpose digged
To make a passage for the running streams
And common channels of the City.
Now, whilst you give assault unto the walls,
I'll lead 500 soldiers through the Vault
And rise with them I'th middle of the Town,
Open the gates for you to enter in,
And by this means the City is your own.
Calymath. If this be true, I'll make thee Governor.
Barabas. And if it be not true, then let me die.
Calymath. Thou'st doomed thyself. - assault it presently.
(Exeunt.
Alarms; enter Turks, Barabas, Governor
And the Knights prisoners.
Calymath. Now vail your pride, you captive Christians,
And kneel for mercy to your conquering foe.
Now where's the hope you had of haughty Spain?
Ferneze, speak. Had it not been much better
To have kept thy promise than be thus surprised?
Ferneze. What should I say? we are captives, and must yield.
Calymath. Ay, villains, you must yield, and under Turkish yokes shall groaning bear the burden of our ire.
And, Barabas, as erst we promised thee,
For thy desert we make thee Governor.
Use them at thy discretion.
Barabas. Thanks, my Lord.
Ferneze. Oh fatal day! to fall into the hands
Of such a Traitor and unhallowed Jew!
What greater misery could heaven inflict?
Calymath. 'tis our command. And Barabas, we give,
To guard thy person, these our Janizaries.
Entreat them well, as we have used thee.
And now, brave Bassoes, come. We'll walk about
The ruined Town, and see the wrack we made.
Farewell, brave Jew. Farewell, great Barabas.
(Exeunt.
Barabas. May all good fortune follow Calymath.
And now, as entrance to our safety,
To prison with the Governor and these
Captains, his consorts and confederates.
Ferneze. Oh villain, Heaven will be revenged on thee.
(Exeunt.
Barabas. Away! no more! let him not trouble me.
Thus hast thou gotten, by the policy
No simple place, no small authority.
I now am Governor of Malta, true,
But Malta hates me, and, in hating me
My life's in danger. And what boots it thee,
Poor Barabas, to be the Governor,
Whenas thy life shall be at their command?
No, Barabas, this must be looked into;
And since by wrong thou gott'st Authority,
Maintain it bravely by firm policy;
At least, unprofitably lose it not,
For he that liveth in Authority,
And neither gets him friends nor fills his bags,
Lives like the Ass that Aesop speaketh of,
That labors with a load of bread and wine
And leaves it off to snap on Thistle tops.
But Barabas will be more circumspect.
Begin betimes; Occasion's bald behind.
Slip not thine opportunity, for fear too late
Thou seek'st for much, but canst not compass it.
Within here!
Enter Governor with a guard.
Ferneze. My Lord?
Barabas. Ay, Lord! thus slaves will learn.
Now, Governor, - stand by there; wait within.
This is the reason that I sent for thee:
Thou seest thy life and Malta's happiness
Are at my Arbitrament, and Barabas
At his discretion may dispose of both.
Now tell me, Governor, and plainly too,
What think'st thou shall become of it and thee?
Ferneze. This, Barabas: since things are in thy power,
I see no reason but of Malta's wrack,
Nor hope of thee but extreme cruelty:
Nor fear I death, nor will I flatter thee.
Barabas. Governor, good words. Be not so furious.
'tis not thy life which can avail me aught;
Yet you do live, and live for me you shall;
And as for Malta's ruin, think you not
'twere slender policy for Barabas
To dispossess himself of such a place?
For sith, as once you said, within this Isle,
In Malta here, that I have got my goods,
And in this City still have had success,
And now at length am grown your Governor,
Yourselves shall see it shall not be forgot;
For, as a friend not known but in distress,
I'll rear up Malta, now remediless.
Ferneze. Will Barabas recover Malta's loss?
Will Barabas be good to Christians?
Barabas. What wilt thou give me, Governor, to procure
A dissolution of the slavish Bands
Wherein the Turk hath yoked your land and you?
What will you give me if I render you
The life of Calymath, surprise his men,
And in an outhouse of the City shut
His soldiers till I have consumed 'em all with fire?
What will you give him that procureth this?
Ferneze. Do but bring this to pass which thou pretendest,
Deal truly with us as thou intimatest,
And I will send amongst the Citizens
And by my letters privately procure
Great sums of money for thy recompense.
Nay more, do this, and live thou Governor still.
Barabas. Nay, do thou this, Ferneze, and be free.
Governor, I enlarge thee. Live with me.
Go walk about the City; see thy friends.
Tush, send not letters to 'em; go thyself,
And let me see what money thou canst make.
Here is my hand that I'll set Malta free;
And thus we cast it: to a solemn feast
I will invite young Selim Calymath.
Where be thou present only to perform
One stratagem that I'll impart to thee,
Wherein no danger shall betide thy life,
And I will warrant Malta free forever.
Ferneze. Here is my hand. Believe me, Barabas,
I will be there, and do as thou desirest.
When is the time?
Barabas. Governor, presently;
For Calymath, when he hath viewed the Town,
Will take his leave and sail toward Ottoman.
Ferneze. Then will I, Barabas, about this coin,
And bring it with me to thee in the evening.
Barabas. Do so, but fail not. Now farewell, Ferneze.
And thus far roundly goes the business.
Thus, loving neither, will I live with both,
Making a profit of my policy,
And he from whom my most advantage comes
Shall be my friend.
This is the life we Jews are used to lead -
And reason too, for Christians do the like.
Well, now about effecting this device:
First to surprise great Selim's soldiers,
And then to make provision for the feast,
That at one instant all things may be done.
My policy detests prevention.
To what event my secret purpose drives
I know - and they shall witness with their lives.
(Exit.
Enter Calymath, Bassoes.
Calymath. Thus have we viewed the City, seen the sack,
And caused the ruins to be new-repaired,
Which with our Bombard's shot and Basilisk
We rent in sunder at our entry.
And now I see the Situation,
And how secure this conquered island stands,
Environed with the mediterranean Sea,
Strong countermined with other petty Isles,
And, toward Calabria, backed by Sicily,
Where Syracusian Dionysius reigned,
Two lofty Turrets that command the Town;
I wonder how it could be conquered thus.
(Enter a messenger.
Messenger. From Barabas, Malta's Governor, I bring
A message unto mighty Calymath.
Hearing his Sovereign was bound for Sea,
To sail to Turkey, to great Ottoman,
He humbly would entreat your Majesty
To come and see his homely Citadel
And banquet with him ere thou leav'st the Isle.
Calymath. To banquet with him in his Citadel?
I fear me, Messenger, to feast my train
Within a Town of war so lately pillaged
Will be too costly and too troublesome;
Yet would I gladly visit Barabas,
For well has Barabas deserved of us.
Messenger. Selim, for that, thus saith the Governor:
That he hath in store a Pearl so big,
So precious, and withal so orient,
As, be it valued but indifferently,
The price thereof will serve to entertain
Selim and all his soldiers for a month.
Therefore he humbly would entreat your Highness
Not to depart till he has feasted you.
Calymath. I cannot feast my men in Malta walls,
Except he place his Tables in the streets.
Messenger. Know, Selim, that there is a monastery
Which standeth as an outhouse to the Town;
There will he banquet them, but thee at home,
With all thy Bassoes and brave followers.
Calymath. Well, tell the Governor we grant his suit.
We'll in this summer evening feast with him.
Messenger. I shall, my lord. (Exit.
Calymath. And now, bold Bassoes, let us to our tents,
And meditate how we may grace us best
To solemnize our Governor's great feast. (Exeunt.
Enter Governor, Knights, Del Bosco.
Ferneze. In this, my Countrymen, be ruled by me.
Have special care that no man sally forth
Till you shall hear a Culverin discharged
By him that bears the Linstock, kindled thus.
Then issue out and come to rescue me,
For happily I shall be in distress,
Or you released of this servitude.
1. Knight. Rather than thus to live as Turkish thralls,
What will we not adventure?
Ferneze. On, then; begone.
Knights. Farewell, grave Governor.
Enter, with a Hammer above, very busy.
Barabas. How stand the cords? How hang these hinges, fast?
Are all the Cranes and Pulleys sure?
1. Carpenter. All fast.
Barabas. Leave nothing loose, all leveled to my mind.
Why, now I see that you have Art indeed.
There, Carpenters, divide that gold amongst you.
Go, swill in bowls of Sack and Muscadine.
Down to the Cellar; taste of all my wines.
1. Carpenter. We shall, my Lord, and thank you. (Exeunt.
Barabas. And if you like them, drink your fill and die!
For, so I live, perish may all the world!
Now, Selim Calymath, return me word
That thou wilt come, and I am satisfied.
Now, sirrah; what, will he come?
Enter Messenger.
Messenger. He will; and has commanded all his men
To come ashore, and march through Malta streets,
That thou mayst feast them in thy Citadel.
Barabas. Then now are all things as my wish would have 'em.
There wanteth nothing but the Governor's pelf,
And see, he brings it. Now Governor, the sum.
Enter Governor.
Ferneze. With free consent, a hundred thousand pounds.
Barabas. Pounds, say'st thou, Governor? well, since it is no more,
I'll satisfy myself with that. nay, keep it still,
For if I keep not promise, trust not me.
And, Governor, now partake my policy:
First, for his Army, they are sent before,
Entered the Monastery, and underneath
In several places are fieldpieces pitched,
Bombards, whole Barrels full of Gunpowder,
That on the sudden shall dissever it
And batter all the stones about their ears,
Whence none can possibly escape alive.
Now, as for Calymath and his consorts,
Here have I made a dainty Gallery,
The floor whereof, this Cable being cut,
Doth fall asunder, so that it doth sink
Into a deep pit past recovery.
Here, hold that knife. And when thou seest he comes
And with his Bassoes shall be blithely set,
A warning piece shall be shot off from the Tower,
To give thee knowledge when to cut the cord
And fire the house. Say, will not this be brave?
Ferneze. Oh, excellent! here, hold thee, Barabas.
I trust thy word; take what I promised thee.
Barabas. No, Governor. I'll satisfy thee first;
Thou shalt not live in doubt of anything.
Stand close, for here they come. Why, is not this
A kingly kind of trade, to purchase Towns
By treachery, and sell 'em by deceit?
Now tell me, worldlings, underneath the sun
If greater falsehood ever has been done?
Enter Calymath and Bassoes.
Calymath. Come, my Companion Bassoes. See, I pray,
How busy Barabas is there above
To entertain us in his Gallery.
Let us salute him. Save thee, Barabas!
Barabas. Welcome, great Calymath.
Ferneze. How the slave jeers at him.
Barabas. Will't please thee, mighty Selim Calymath,
To ascend our homely stairs?
Calymath. Ay, Barabas, come Bassoes, attend.
Ferneze. Stay, Calymath!
For I will show thee greater courtesy
Than Barabas would have afforded thee.
Knight. Sound a charge there!
A charge, the cable cut,
A Caldron discovered.
Calymath. How now! what means this?
Barabas. Help, help me, Christians, help.
Ferneze. See, Calymath. This was devised for thee.
Calymath. Treason, treason! Bassoes, fly!
Ferneze. No, Selim, do not fly.
See his end first, and fly then if thou canst.
Barabas. Oh, help me, Selim! help me, Christians!
Governor, why stand you all so pitiless?
Ferneze. Should I in pity of thy plaints or thee,
Accursed Barabas, base Jew, relent?
No, thus I'll see thy treachery repaid,
But wish thou hadst behaved thee otherwise.
Barabas. You will not help me, then?
Ferneze. No, villain, no.
Barabas. And, villains, know you cannot help me now.
Then, Barabas, breathe forth thy latest fate,
And in the fury of thy torments strive
To end thy life with resolution.
Know, Governor, 'twas I that slew thy son.
I framed the challenge that did make them meet.
Know, Calymath, I aimed thy overthrow,
And had I but escaped this stratagem,
I would have brought confusion on you all,
Damned Christian dogs, and Turkish infidels!
But now begins the extremity of heat
To pinch me with intolerable pangs.
Die, life! fly, soul! tongue, curse thy fill, and die!
Calymath. Tell me, you Christians, what doth this portend?
Ferneze. This train he laid to have entrapped thy life.
Now, Selim, note the unhallowed deeds of Jews.
Thus he determined to have handled thee,
But I have rather chose to save thy life.
Calymath. Was this the banquet he prepared for us?
Let's hence, lest further mischief be pretended.
Ferneze. Nay, Selim, stay; for, since we have thee here,
We will not let thee part so suddenly.
Besides, if we should let thee go, all's one,
For with thy Galleys couldst thou not get hence,
Without fresh men to rig and furnish them.
Calymath. Tush, Governor, take thou no care for that.
My men are all aboard,
And do attend my coming there by this.
Ferneze. Why, heard'st thou not the trumpet sound a charge?
Calymath. Yes, what of that?
Ferneze. Why, then the house was fired,
Blown up and all thy soldiers massacred.
Calymath. Oh, monstrous treason!
Ferneze. A Jew's courtesy;
For he that did by treason work our fall
By treason hath delivered thee to us.
Know, therefore, till thy father hath made good
The ruins done to Malta and to us,
Thou canst not part. For Malta shall be freed,
Or Selim ne'er return to Ottoman.
Calymath. Nay, rather, Christians, let me go to Turkey,
In person there to mediate your peace.
To keep me here will nought advantage you.
Ferneze. Content thee, Calymath, here thou must stay,
And live in Malta prisoner, for come all the world
To rescue thee, so will we guard us now,
As sooner shall they drink the Ocean dry
Than conquer Malta or endanger us.
So march away, and let due praise be given
Neither to Fate nor Fortune, but to Heaven.
FINIS.
================================================
Extracts from William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice (1594; pub. 1599, 1623; from Project Gutenberg text, 1999)
The play opens with Antonio's melancholy:
ACT I. SCENE I.
Venice. A street
ANTONIO. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad.
It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn;
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me
That I have much ado to know myself.
It soon becomes clear that Antonio's feeling blue because the boy he adores, Bassanio, intends to woo and marry the rich, beautiful, and virtuous Portia. To press his suit, Bassanio needs cash. Unfortunately, Antonio's capital is fully tied up with ships at sea that have not yet come to port. Willing to do anything for Bassanio, he borrows money from his enemy, Shylock the Jew.
Enter BASSANIO With SHYLOCK the Jew
SHYLOCK. Three thousand ducats- well.
BASSANIO. Ay, sir, for three months.
SHYLOCK. For three months- well.
BASSANIO. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.
SHYLOCK. Antonio shall become bound- well.
BASSANIO. May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know your
answer?
SHYLOCK. Three thousand ducats for three months, and Antonio bound.
BASSANIO. Your answer to that.
SHYLOCK. Antonio is a good man.
BASSANIO. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?
SHYLOCK. Ho, no, no, no, no; my meaning in saying he is a good man
is to have you understand me that he is sufficient; yet his means
are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another
to the Indies; I understand, moreover, upon the Rialto, he hath a
third at Mexico, a fourth for England- and other ventures he
hath, squand'red abroad. But ships are but boards, sailors but
men; there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and
land-thieves- I mean pirates; and then there is the peril of
waters, winds, and rocks. The man is, notwithstanding,
sufficient. Three thousand ducats- I think I may take his bond.
BASSANIO. Be assur'd you may.
SHYLOCK. I will be assur'd I may; and, that I may be assured, I
will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio?
BASSANIO. If it please you to dine with us.
SHYLOCK. Yes, to smell pork, to eat of the habitation which your
prophet, the Nazarite, conjured the devil into! I will buy with
you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so
following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray
with you. What news on the Rialto? Who is he comes here?
Enter ANTONIO
BASSANIO. This is Signior Antonio.
SHYLOCK. [Aside] How like a fawning publican he looks!
I hate him for he is a Christian;
But more for that in low simplicity
He lends out money gratis, and brings down
The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation; and he rails,
Even there where merchants most do congregate,
On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift,
Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe
If I forgive him!
BASSANIO. Shylock, do you hear?
SHYLOCK. I am debating of my present store,
And, by the near guess of my memory,
I cannot instantly raise up the gross
Of full three thousand ducats. What of that?
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
Will furnish me. But soft! how many months
Do you desire? [To ANTONIO] Rest you fair, good signior;
Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
ANTONIO. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
By taking nor by giving of excess,
Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend,
I'll break a custom. [To BASSANIO] Is he yet possess'd
How much ye would?
SHYLOCK. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.
ANTONIO. And for three months.
SHYLOCK. I had forgot- three months; you told me so.
Well then, your bond; and, let me see- but hear you,
Methoughts you said you neither lend nor borrow
Upon advantage.
ANTONIO. I do never use it.
SHYLOCK. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's sheep-
This Jacob from our holy Abram was,
As his wise mother wrought in his behalf,
The third possessor; ay, he was the third-
ANTONIO. And what of him? Did he take interest?
SHYLOCK. No, not take interest; not, as you would say,
Directly int'rest; mark what Jacob did:
When Laban and himself were compromis'd
That all the eanlings which were streak'd and pied
Should fall as Jacob's hire, the ewes, being rank,
In end of autumn turned to the rams;
And when the work of generation was
Between these woolly breeders in the act,
The skilful shepherd pill'd me certain wands,
And, in the doing of the deed of kind,
He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes,
Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time
Fall parti-colour'd lambs, and those were Jacob's.
This was a way to thrive, and he was blest;
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.
ANTONIO. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd for;
A thing not in his power to bring to pass,
But sway'd and fashion'd by the hand of heaven.
Was this inserted to make interest good?
Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?
SHYLOCK. I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast.
But note me, signior.
ANTONIO. [Aside] Mark you this, Bassanio,
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul producing holy witness
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
A goodly apple rotten at the heart.
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
SHYLOCK. Three thousand ducats- 'tis a good round sum.
Three months from twelve; then let me see, the rate-
ANTONIO. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you?
SHYLOCK. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
In the Rialto you have rated me
About my moneys and my usances;
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,
For suff'rance is the badge of all our tribe;
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my help;
Go to, then; you come to me, and you say
'Shylock, we would have moneys.' You say so-
You that did void your rheum upon my beard
And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold; moneys is your suit.
What should I say to you? Should I not say
'Hath a dog money? Is it possible
A cur can lend three thousand ducats?' Or
Shall I bend low and, in a bondman's key,
With bated breath and whisp'ring humbleness,
Say this:
'Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last,
You spurn'd me such a day; another time
You call'd me dog; and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much moneys'?
ANTONIO. I am as like to call thee so again,
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friends- for when did friendship take
A breed for barren metal of his friend?-
But lend it rather to thine enemy,
Who if he break thou mayst with better face
Exact the penalty.
SHYLOCK. Why, look you, how you storm!
I would be friends with you, and have your love,
Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with,
Supply your present wants, and take no doit
Of usance for my moneys, and you'll not hear me.
This is kind I offer.
BASSANIO. This were kindness.
SHYLOCK. This kindness will I show.
Go with me to a notary, seal me there
Your single bond, and, in a merry sport,
If you repay me not on such a day,
In such a place, such sum or sums as are
Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit
Be nominated for an equal pound
Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body pleaseth me.
ANTONIO. Content, in faith; I'll seal to such a bond,
And say there is much kindness in the Jew.
BASSANIO. You shall not seal to such a bond for me;
I'll rather dwell in my necessity.
ANTONIO. Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it;
Within these two months- that's a month before
This bond expires- I do expect return
Of thrice three times the value of this bond.
SHYLOCK. O father Abram, what these Christians are,
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this:
If he should break his day, what should I gain
By the exaction of the forfeiture?
A pound of man's flesh taken from a man
Is not so estimable, profitable neither,
As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say,
To buy his favour, I extend this friendship;
If he will take it, so; if not, adieu;
And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not.
ANTONIO. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.
SHYLOCK. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's;
Give him direction for this merry bond,
And I will go and purse the ducats straight,
See to my house, left in the fearful guard
Of an unthrifty knave, and presently
I'll be with you.
ANTONIO. Hie thee, gentle Jew. Exit SHYLOCK
The Hebrew will turn Christian: he grows kind.
BASSANIO. I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
ANTONIO. Come on; in this there can be no dismay;
My ships come home a month before the day. Exeunt
The clown, Launcelot Gobbo, a poor man's son and domestic servant to Shylock, is half-starved and eager to find other employment--Shylock never gives him enough to eat ("My master's a very Jew....Give him a halter [i.e., noose]. I am famish'd in his service; you may tell every finger I have with my ribs"). Shylock's perception is somewhat different (he describes Launcelot as "a huge feeder, / Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day / More than the wild-cat"). On Shakespeare's stage, the role was played by such fat comic actors as Richard Tarlton and Dick Kemp. Launcelot decides to run away if he can find service with a spendthrift Christian.
SCENE II.
Venice. A street
Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO
LAUNCELOT. Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this
Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and tempts me, saying
to me 'Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot' or 'good Gobbo' or
'good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away.'
My conscience says 'No; take heed, honest Launcelot, take heed,
honest Gobbo' or, as aforesaid, 'honest Launcelot Gobbo, do not
run; scorn running with thy heels.' Well, the most courageous
fiend bids me pack. 'Via!' says the fiend; 'away!' says the
fiend. 'For the heavens, rouse up a brave mind' says the fiend
'and run.' Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my
heart, says very wisely to me 'My honest friend Launcelot, being
an honest man's son' or rather 'an honest woman's son'; for
indeed my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a
kind of taste- well, my conscience says 'Launcelot, budge not.'
'Budge,' says the fiend. 'Budge not,' says my conscience.
'Conscience,' say I, (you counsel well.' 'Fiend,' say I, 'you
counsel well.' To be rul'd by my conscience, I should stay with
the Jew my master, who- God bless the mark!- is a kind of devil;
and, to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend,
who- saving your reverence!- is the devil himself. Certainly the
Jew is the very devil incarnation; and, in my conscience, my
conscience is but a kind of hard conscience to offer to counsel
me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more friendly
counsel. I will run, fiend; my heels are at your commandment; I
will run.
Obtaining service with Bassanio (who's flush with cash, having borrowed money from Antonio who borrowed it from Shylock), Launcelot says farewell to Jessica, Shylock's daughter--not knowing that Jessica, too, intends to run away. She has plans to rob her father of money, gold, and jewels, and to elope with Lorenzo, a Venetian Christian.
SCENE III.
Venice. SHYLOCK'S house
Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT
JESSICA. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so.
Our house is hell; and thou, a merry devil,
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee;
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest.
Give him this letter; do it secretly.
And so farewell. I would not have my father
See me in talk with thee.
LAUNCELOT. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful pagan,
most sweet Jew! If a Christian do not play the knave and get
thee, I am much deceived. But, adieu! these foolish drops do
something drown my manly spirit; adieu!
JESSICA. Farewell, good Launcelot. Exit LAUNCELOT
Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
To be asham'd to be my father's child!
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo,
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
Become a Christian and thy loving wife. Exit
Lorenzo tells his pals of his planned elopement with the daughter of a Jew:
LORENZO. I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed
How I shall take her from her father's house;
What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with;
What page's suit she hath in readiness.
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven,
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake;
And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she [Misfortune] do it under this excuse,
That she [Jessica] is issue to a faithless Jew....
Upon learning that there will be masques that night, Shylock (who must have dinner with the Christians) warns Jessicato shutter the windows and not peep out the the masked revelers.
SHYLOCK. What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica:
Lock up my doors, and when you hear the drum,
And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the public street
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces;
But stop my house's ears-- I mean my casements;
Let not the sound of shallow fopp'ry enter
My sober house. By Jacob's staff, I swear
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night;
But I will go.
The next morning, having discovered that Jessica has robbed him and eloped with a Christian, a furious Shylock searches Venice for the thieves. His distress is a topic of gossip and laughter among the Venetian Christians:
SCENE VIII.
Venice. A street
/..../
SOLANIO. I never heard a passion so confus'd,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets.
'My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter!
Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats!
Justice! the law! My ducats and my daughter!
A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,
Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter!
And jewels- two stones, two rich and precious stones,
Stol'n by my daughter! Justice! Find the girl;
She hath the stones upon her and the ducats.'
SALERIO. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
Crying, "His stones, his daughter, and his ducats!"
Shylock's friend Tubal helps to search for Jessica and Lorenzo, without success. Tubal is described by Solanio as "another of the tribe; a third cannot be match'd, unless the devil himself turn Jew."
TUBAL. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her.
SHYLOCK. Why there, there, there, there! A diamond gone, cost me
two thousand ducats in Frankfort! The curse never fell upon our
nation till now; I never felt it till now. Two thousand ducats in
that, and other precious, precious jewels. I would my daughter
were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear; would she were
hears'd at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin! No news of
them? Why, so- and I know not what's spent in the search. Why,
thou- loss upon loss! The thief gone with so much, and so much to
find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge; nor no ill kuck
stirring but what lights o' my shoulders; no sighs but o' my
breathing; no tears but o' my shedding!
TUBAL. Yes, other men have ill luck too: Antonio, as I heard in
Genoa-
SHYLOCK. What, what, what? Ill luck, ill luck?
TUBAL. Hath an argosy cast away coming from Tripolis.
SHYLOCK. I thank God, I thank God. Is it true, is it true?
TUBAL. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck.
SHYLOCK. I thank thee, good Tubal. Good news, good news- ha, ha!-
heard in Genoa.
TUBAL. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one night,
fourscore ducats.
SHYLOCK. Thou stick'st a dagger in me- I shall never see my gold
again. Fourscore ducats at a sitting! Fourscore ducats!
TUBAL. There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my company to
Venice that swear he cannot choose but break.
SHYLOCK. I am very glad of it; I'll plague him, I'll torture him; I
am glad of it.
TUBAL. One of them showed me a ring that he had of your daughter
for a monkey.
SHYLOCK. Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal. It was my
turquoise; I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor; I would not
have given it for a wilderness of monkeys.
TUBAL. But Antonio is certainly undone.
SHYLOCK. Nay, that's true; that's very true. Go, Tubal, fee me an
officer; bespeak him a fortnight before. I will have the heart of
him, if he forfeit; for, were he out of Venice, I can make what
merchandise I will. Go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue; go,
good Tubal; at our synagogue, Tubal. Exeunt
Salerio brings word to Bassanio and Portia that Antonio's ships are lost at sea. The "merry bond" between Antonio and Shylock--whereby Antonio will forfeit a pound of his flesh if the debt is not repaid on time--now looks to the Christians like a bad idea.
BASSANIO. O sweet Portia,
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words
That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady,
When I did first impart my love to you,
I freely told you all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins- I was a gentleman;
And then I told you true. And yet, dear lady,
Rating myself at nothing, you shall see
How much I was a braggart. When I told you
My state was nothing, I should then have told you
That I was worse than nothing; for indeed
I have engag'd myself to a dear friend,
Engag'd my friend to his mere enemy,
To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady,
The paper as the body of my friend,
And every word in it a gaping wound
Issuing life-blood. But is it true, Salerio?
Hath all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit?
From Tripolis, from Mexico, and England,
From Lisbon, Barbary, and India,
And not one vessel scape the dreadful touch
Of merchant-marring rocks?
SALERIO. Not one, my lord.
Besides, it should appear that, if he had
The present money to discharge the Jew,
He would not take it. Never did I know
A creature that did bear the shape of man
So keen and greedy to confound a man.
He plies the Duke at morning and at night,
And doth impeach the freedom of the state,
If they deny him justice. Twenty merchants,
The Duke himself, and the magnificoes
Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him;
But none can drive him from the envious plea
Of forfeiture, of justice, and his bond.
JESSICA. When I was with him, I have heard him swear
To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen,
That he would rather have Antonio's flesh
Than twenty times the value of the sum
That he did owe him; and I know, my lord,
If law, authority, and power, deny not,
It will go hard with poor Antonio.
PORTIA. Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?
BASSANIO. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
The best condition'd and unwearied spirit
In doing courtesies; and one in whom
The ancient Roman honour more appears
Than any that draws breath in Italy.
PORTIA. What sum owes he the Jew?
BASSANIO. For me, three thousand ducats.
PORTIA. What! no more?
Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond;
Double six thousand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this description
Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault.
First go with me to church and call me wife,
And then away to Venice to your friend;
For never shall you lie by Portia's side
With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold
To pay the petty debt twenty times over.
When it is paid, bring your true friend along.
My maid Nerissa and myself meantime
Will live as maids and widows. Come, away;
For you shall hence upon your wedding day.
Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer;
Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear.
But let me hear the letter of your friend.
BASSANIO. [Reads] 'Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried,
my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the
Jew is forfeit; and since, in paying it, it is impossible I
should live, all debts are clear'd between you and I, if I might
but see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your pleasure; if
your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter.'
PORTIA. O love, dispatch all business and be gone!
BASSANIO. Since I have your good leave to go away,
I will make haste; but, till I come again,
No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay,
Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. Exeunt
Calling for Antonio's arrest (debtors in default were subject to imprisonment), Shylock warns his enemy that he intends to collect the designated penalty.
SCENE III.
Venice. A street
Enter SHYLOCK, SOLANIO, ANTONIO, and GAOLER
SHYLOCK. Gaoler [jailer], look to him. Tell not me of mercy-
This is the fool that lent out money gratis.
Gaoler, look to him.
ANTONIO. Hear me yet, good Shylock.
SHYLOCK. I'll have my bond; speak not against my bond.
I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond.
Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause,
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs;
The Duke shall grant me justice. I do wonder,
Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond
To come abroad with him at his request.
ANTONIO. I pray thee hear me speak.
SHYLOCK. I'll have my bond. I will not hear thee speak;
I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more.
I'll not be made a soft and dull-ey'd fool,
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield,
To Christian intercessors. Follow not;
I'll have no speaking; I will have my bond. Exit
SOLANIO. It is the most impenetrable cur
That ever kept with men.
ANTONIO. Let him alone;
I'll follow him no more with bootless prayers.
He seeks my life; his reason well I know:
I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures
Many that have at times made moan to me;
Therefore he hates me.
SOLANIO. I am sure the Duke
Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.
ANTONIO. The Duke cannot deny the course of law;
For the commodity that strangers have
With us in Venice, if it be denied,
Will much impeach the justice of the state,
Since that the trade and profit of the city
Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go;
These griefs and losses have so bated me
That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh
To-morrow to my bloody creditor.
Well, gaoler, on; pray God Bassanio come
To see me pay his debt, and then I care not. Exeunt
Back at Belmont, for a little comic relief, Launcelot jests with Jessica, warning her that she is damned as the daughter of a Jew; and cannot hope to be saved unless perhaps she was conceived by a Christian without Shylock's knowledge:
LAUNCELOT. Yes, truly; for, look you, "the sins of the father are to be laid upon the children" [quoting the Bible]. Therefore, I promise you, I fear you [i.e., fear for your safety]. I was always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of the matter; therefore be o' good cheer, for truly I think you are damn'd. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good, and that is but a kind of bastard hope, neither.
JESSICA. And what hope is that, I pray thee?
LAUNCELOT. Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you not-- that you are not the Jew's daughter.
JESSICA. That were a kind of bastard hope indeed; so the sins of my mother should be visited upon me.
LAUNCELOT. Truly then I fear you are damn'd both by father and mother; thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother; well, you are gone both ways.
JESSICA. I shall be sav'd by my husband; he hath made me a Christian.
LAUNCELOT. Truly, the more to blame he; we were Christians enow before, e'en as many as could well live one by another. This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs; if we grow all to be pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money.
Enter LORENZO
JESSICA. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say; here he comes.
LORENZO. I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you thus get my wife into corners.
JESSICA. Nay, you need nor fear us, Lorenzo; Launcelot and I are out [i.e., having an argument]; he tells me flatly there's no mercy for me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter; and he says you are no good member of the commonwealth, for in converting Jews to Christians you raise the price of pork.
LORENZO. I shall answer that better to the commonwealth than you can the getting up of the Negro's belly; the Moor is with child by you, Launcelot.
LAUNCELOT. It is much that the Moor should be more than reason; but if she be less than an honest woman, she is indeed more than I took her for.
LORENZO. How every fool can play upon the word!....
Antonio's fate is to be decided in a Venetian court. Portia dresses as a law clerk and manages to interject herself as the presiding judge. The trial at first seems to go badly for Antonio but "Balthazar" (Portia) saves the day by a verbal scruple: Shylock may take "a pound of flesh" but not so much as a drop of blood, or he dies. By the time she and the Duke are done with Shylock, the Jew has been been stripped of his wealth and forced to convert to Christianity.
ACT IV. SCENE I.
Venice. The court of justice
Enter the DUKE, the MAGNIFICOES, ANTONIO, BASSANIO, GRATIANO,
SALERIO, and OTHERS
DUKE OF VENICE. What, is Antonio here?
ANTONIO. Ready, so please your Grace.
DUKE OF VENICE. I am sorry for thee; thou art come to answer
A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch,
Uncapable of pity, void and empty
From any dram of mercy.
ANTONIO. I have heard
Your Grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify
His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate,
And that no lawful means can carry me
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose
My patience to his fury, and am arm'd
To suffer with a quietness of spirit
The very tyranny and rage of his.
DUKE OF VENICE. Go one, and call the Jew into the court.
SALERIO. He is ready at the door; he comes, my lord.
Enter SHYLOCK
DUKE OF VENICE. Make room, and let him stand before our face.
Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too,
That thou but leadest this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act; and then, 'tis thought,
Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse, more strange
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty;
And where thou now exacts the penalty,
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture,
But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal,
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
That have of late so huddled on his back-
Enow to press a royal merchant down,
And pluck commiseration of his state
From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint,
From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtesy.
We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.
SHYLOCK. I have possess'd your Grace of what I purpose,
And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn
To have the due and forfeit of my bond.
If you deny it, let the danger light
Upon your charter and your city's freedom.
You'll ask me why I rather choose to have
A weight of carrion flesh than to receive
Three thousand ducats. I'll not answer that,
But say it is my humour- is it answer'd?
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats
To have it ban'd? What, are you answer'd yet?
Some men there are love not a gaping pig;
Some that are mad if they behold a cat;
And others, when the bagpipe sings i' th' nose,
Cannot contain their urine; for affection,
Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood
Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer:
As there is no firm reason to be rend'red
Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;
Why he, a harmless necessary cat;
Why he, a woollen bagpipe, but of force
Must yield to such inevitable shame
As to offend, himself being offended;
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
More than a lodg'd hate and a certain loathing
I bear Antonio, that I follow thus
A losing suit against him. Are you answered?
BASSANIO. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
To excuse the current of thy cruelty.
SHYLOCK. I am not bound to please thee with my answers.
BASSANIO. Do all men kill the things they do not love?
SHYLOCK. Hates any man the thing he would not kill?
BASSANIO. Every offence is not a hate at first.
SHYLOCK. What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?
ANTONIO. I pray you, think you question with the Jew.
You may as well go stand upon the beach
And bid the main flood bate his usual height;
You may as well use question with the wolf,
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb;
You may as well forbid the mountain pines
To wag their high tops and to make no noise
When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven;
You may as well do anything most hard
As seek to soften that- than which what's harder?-
His jewish heart. Therefore, I do beseech you,
Make no moe offers, use no farther means,
But with all brief and plain conveniency
Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will.
BASSANIO. For thy three thousand ducats here is six.
SHYLOCK. If every ducat in six thousand ducats
Were in six parts, and every part a ducat,
I would not draw them; I would have my bond.
DUKE OF VENICE. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rend'ring none?
SHYLOCK. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong?
You have among you many a purchas'd slave,
Which, fike your asses and your dogs and mules,
You use in abject and in slavish parts,
Because you bought them; shall I say to you
'Let them be free, marry them to your heirs-
Why sweat they under burdens?- let their beds
Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates
Be season'd with such viands'? You will answer
'The slaves are ours.' So do I answer you:
The pound of flesh which I demand of him
Is dearly bought, 'tis mine, and I will have it.
If you deny me, fie upon your law!
There is no force in the decrees of Venice.
I stand for judgment; answer; shall I have it?
DUKE OF VENICE. Upon my power I may dismiss this court,
Unless Bellario, a learned doctor,
Whom I have sent for to determine this,
Come here to-day.
SALERIO. My lord, here stays without
A messenger with letters from the doctor,
New come from Padua.
DUKE OF VENICE. Bring us the letters; call the messenger.
BASSANIO. Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage yet!
The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all,
Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood.
ANTONIO. I am a tainted wether of the flock,
Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit
Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me.
You cannot better be employ'd, Bassanio,
Than to live still, and write mine epitaph.
Enter NERISSA dressed like a lawyer's clerk
DUKE OF VENICE. Came you from Padua, from Bellario?
NERISSA. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your Grace.
[Presents a letter]
BASSANIO. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?
SHYLOCK. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there.
GRATIANO. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew,
Thou mak'st thy knife keen; but no metal can,
No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness
Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee?
SHYLOCK. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make.
GRATIANO. O, be thou damn'd, inexecrable dog!
And for thy life let justice be accus'd.
Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith,
To hold opinion with Pythagoras
That souls of animals infuse themselves
Into the trunks of men. Thy currish spirit
Govern'd a wolf who, hang'd for human slaughter,
Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet,
And, whilst thou layest in thy unhallowed dam,
Infus'd itself in thee; for thy desires
Are wolfish, bloody, starv'd and ravenous.
SHYLOCK. Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond,
Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud;
Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall
To cureless ruin. I stand here for law.
DUKE OF VENICE. This letter from Bellario doth commend
A young and learned doctor to our court.
Where is he?
NERISSA. He attendeth here hard by
To know your answer, whether you'll admit him.
DUKE OF VENICE. With all my heart. Some three or four of you
Go give him courteous conduct to this place.
Meantime, the court shall hear Bellario's letter.
CLERK. [Reads] 'Your Grace shall understand that at the receipt
of your letter I am very sick; but in the instant that your
messenger came, in loving visitation was with me a young doctor
of Rome- his name is Balthazar. I acquainted him with the cause
in controversy between the Jew and Antonio the merchant; we
turn'd o'er many books together; he is furnished with my opinion
which, bettered with his own learning-the greatness whereof I
cannot enough commend- comes with him at my importunity to fill
up your Grace's request in my stead. I beseech you let his kack
of years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend estimation,
for I never knew so young a body with so old a head. I leave him
to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his
commendation.'
Enter PORTIA for BALTHAZAR, dressed like a Doctor of Laws
DUKE OF VENICE. YOU hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes;
And here, I take it, is the doctor come.
Give me your hand; come you from old Bellario?
PORTIA. I did, my lord.
DUKE OF VENICE. You are welcome; take your place.
Are you acquainted with the difference
That holds this present question in the court?
PORTIA. I am informed throughly of the cause.
Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?
DUKE OF VENICE. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
PORTIA. Is your name Shylock?
SHYLOCK. Shylock is my name.
PORTIA. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow;
Yet in such rule that the Venetian law
Cannot impugn you as you do proceed.
You stand within his danger, do you not?
ANTONIO. Ay, so he says.
PORTIA. Do you confess the bond?
ANTONIO. I do.
PORTIA. Then must the Jew be merciful.
SHYLOCK. On what compulsion must I? Tell me that.
PORTIA. The quality of mercy is not strain'd;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this-
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation; we do pray for mercy,
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea,
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
SHYLOCK. My deeds upon my head! I crave the law,
The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
BASSANIO. Yes; here I tender it for him in the court;
Yea, twice the sum; if that will not suffice,
I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er
On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart;
If this will not suffice, it must appear
That malice bears down truth. And, I beseech you,
Wrest once the law to your authority;
To do a great right do a little wrong,
And curb this cruel devil of his will.
PORTIA. It must not be; there is no power in Venice
Can alter a decree established;
'Twill be recorded for a precedent,
And many an error, by the same example,
Will rush into the state; it cannot be.
SHYLOCK. A Daniel come to judgment! Yea, a Daniel!
O wise young judge, how I do honour thee!
PORTIA. I pray you, let me look upon the bond.
SHYLOCK. Here 'tis, most reverend Doctor; here it is.
PORTIA. Shylock, there's thrice thy money off'red thee.
SHYLOCK. An oath, an oath! I have an oath in heaven.
Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?
No, not for Venice.
PORTIA. Why, this bond is forfeit;
And lawfully by this the Jew may claim
A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful.
Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.
SHYLOCK. When it is paid according to the tenour.
It doth appear you are a worthy judge;
You know the law; your exposition
Hath been most sound; I charge you by the law,
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
Proceed to judgment. By my soul I swear
There is no power in the tongue of man
To alter me. I stay here on my bond.
ANTONIO. Most heartily I do beseech the court
To give the judgment.
PORTIA. Why then, thus it is:
You must prepare your bosom for his knife.
SHYLOCK. O noble judge! O excellent young man!
PORTIA. For the intent and purpose of the law
Hath full relation to the penalty,
Which here appeareth due upon the bond.
SHYLOCK. 'Tis very true. O wise and upright judge,
How much more elder art thou than thy looks!
PORTIA. Therefore, lay bare your bosom.
SHYLOCK. Ay, his breast-
So says the bond; doth it not, noble judge?
'Nearest his heart,' those are the very words.
PORTIA. It is so. Are there balance here to weigh
The flesh?
SHYLOCK. I have them ready.
PORTIA. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge,
To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death.
SHYLOCK. Is it so nominated in the bond?
PORTIA. It is not so express'd, but what of that?
'Twere good you do so much for charity.
SHYLOCK. I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond.
PORTIA. You, merchant, have you anything to say?
ANTONIO. But little: I am arm'd and well prepar'd.
Give me your hand, Bassanio; fare you well.
Grieve not that I am fall'n to this for you,
For herein Fortune shows herself more kind
Than is her custom. It is still her use
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,
To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow
An age of poverty; from which ling'ring penance
Of such misery doth she cut me off.
Commend me to your honourable wife;
Tell her the process of Antonio's end;
Say how I lov'd you; speak me fair in death;
And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
Repent but you that you shall lose your friend,
And he repents not that he pays your debt;
For if the Jew do cut but deep enough,
I'll pay it instantly with all my heart.
BASSANIO. Antonio, I am married to a wife
Which is as dear to me as life itself;
But life itself, my wife, and all the world,
Are not with me esteem'd above thy life;
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
Here to this devil, to deliver you.
PORTIA. Your wife would give you little thanks for that,
If she were by to hear you make the offer.
GRATIANO. I have a wife who I protest I love;
I would she were in heaven, so she could
Entreat some power to change this currish Jew.
NERISSA. 'Tis well you offer it behind her back;
The wish would make else an unquiet house.
SHYLOCK. [Aside] These be the Christian husbands! I have a
daughter-
Would any of the stock of Barrabas
Had been her husband, rather than a Christian!-
We trifle time; I pray thee pursue sentence.
PORTIA. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine.
The court awards it and the law doth give it.
SHYLOCK. Most rightful judge!
PORTIA. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast.
The law allows it and the court awards it.
SHYLOCK. Most learned judge! A sentence! Come, prepare.
PORTIA. Tarry a little; there is something else.
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood:
The words expressly are 'a pound of flesh.'
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh;
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.
GRATIANO. O upright judge! Mark, Jew. O learned judge!
SHYLOCK. Is that the law?
PORTIA. Thyself shalt see the act;
For, as thou urgest justice, be assur'd
Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st.
GRATIANO. O learned judge! Mark, Jew. A learned judge!
SHYLOCK. I take this offer then: pay the bond thrice,
And let the Christian go.
BASSANIO. Here is the money.
PORTIA. Soft!
The Jew shall have all justice. Soft! No haste.
He shall have nothing but the penalty.
GRATIANO. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge!
PORTIA. Therefore, prepare thee to cut off the flesh.
Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more
But just a pound of flesh; if thou tak'st more
Or less than a just pound- be it but so much
As makes it light or heavy in the substance,
Or the division of the twentieth part
Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale do turn
But in the estimation of a hair-
Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.
GRATIANO. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew!
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip.
PORTIA. Why doth the Jew pause? Take thy forfeiture.
SHYLOCK. Give me my principal, and let me go.
BASSANIO. I have it ready for thee; here it is.
PORTIA. He hath refus'd it in the open court;
He shall have merely justice, and his bond.
GRATIANO. A Daniel still say I, a second Daniel!
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.
SHYLOCK. Shall I not have barely my principal?
PORTIA. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture
To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.
SHYLOCK. Why, then the devil give him good of it!
I'll stay no longer question.
PORTIA. Tarry, Jew.
The law hath yet another hold on you.
It is enacted in the laws of Venice,
If it be proved against an alien
That by direct or indirect attempts
He seek the life of any citizen,
The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive
Shall seize one half his goods; the other half
Comes to the privy coffer of the state;
And the offender's life lies in the mercy
Of the Duke only, 'gainst all other voice.
In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st;
For it appears by manifest proceeding
That indirectly, and directly too,
Thou hast contrived against the very life
Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd
The danger formerly by me rehears'd.
Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke.
GRATIANO. Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself;
And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state,
Thou hast not left the value of a cord;
Therefore thou must be hang'd at the state's charge.
DUKE OF VENICE. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit,
I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it.
For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's;
The other half comes to the general state,
Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.
PORTIA. Ay, for the state; not for Antonio.
SHYLOCK. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that.
You take my house when you do take the prop
That doth sustain my house; you take my life
When you do take the means whereby I live.
PORTIA. What mercy can you render him, Antonio?
GRATIANO. A halter gratis; nothing else, for God's sake!
ANTONIO. So please my lord the Duke and all the court
To quit the fine for one half of his goods;
I am content, so he will let me have
The other half in use, to render it
Upon his death unto the gentleman
That lately stole his daughter-
Two things provided more; that, for this favour,
He presently become a Christian;
The other, that he do record a gift,
Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd
Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.
DUKE OF VENICE. He shall do this, or else I do recant
The pardon that I late pronounced here.
PORTIA. Art thou contented, Jew? What dost thou say?
SHYLOCK. I am content.
PORTIA. Clerk, draw a deed of gift.
SHYLOCK. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence;
I am not well; send the deed after me
And I will sign it.
DUKE OF VENICE. Get thee gone, but do it.
GRATIANO. In christ'ning shalt thou have two god-fathers;
Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more,
To bring thee to the gallows, not to the font.
Exit SHYLOCK
DUKE OF VENICE. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner.
PORTIA. I humbly do desire your Grace of pardon;
I must away this night toward Padua,
And it is meet I presently set forth.
DUKE OF VENICE. I am sorry that your leisure serves you not.
Antonio, gratify this gentleman,
For in my mind you are much bound to him.
Exeunt DUKE, MAGNIFICOES, and train
BASSANIO. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend
Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted
Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof
Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew,
We freely cope your courteous pains withal.
ANTONIO. And stand indebted, over and above,
In love and service to you evermore.
PORTIA. He is well paid that is well satisfied,
And I, delivering you, am satisfied,
And therein do account myself well paid.
My mind was never yet more mercenary.
I pray you, know me when we meet again;
I wish you well, and so I take my leave.
BASSANIO. Dear sir, of force I must attempt you further;
Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute,
Not as fee. Grant me two things, I pray you,
Not to deny me, and to pardon me.
PORTIA. You press me far, and therefore I will yield.
[To ANTONIO] Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake.
[To BASSANIO] And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you.
Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more,
And you in love shall not deny me this.
BASSANIO. This ring, good sir- alas, it is a trifle;
I will not shame myself to give you this.
PORTIA. I will have nothing else but only this;
And now, methinks, I have a mind to it.
BASSANIO.. There's more depends on this than on the value.
The dearest ring in Venice will I give you,
And find it out by proclamation;
Only for this, I pray you, pardon me.
PORTIA. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers;
You taught me first to beg, and now, methinks,
You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd.
BASSANIO. Good sir, this ring was given me by my wife;
And, when she put it on, she made me vow
That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it.
PORTIA. That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts.
And if your wife be not a mad woman,
And know how well I have deserv'd this ring,
She would not hold out enemy for ever
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
Exeunt PORTIA and NERISSA
ANTONIO. My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring.
Let his deservings, and my love withal,
Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment.
BASSANIO. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him;
Give him the ring, and bring him, if thou canst,
Unto Antonio's house. Away, make haste. Exit GRATIANO
Come, you and I will thither presently;
And in the morning early will we both
Fly toward Belmont. Come, Antonio. Exeunt
Shylock is now dismissed from the play, an outcast to both Jewish and Christian society. He does not appear in the fifth act, nor is he mentioned except with reference to his forfeited wealth.
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Other texts of interest:
Lancelot Addison, The present state of the Jews (1676), Wing A527.
Anon., A true report of sundry horrible conspiracies to have taken away the life of the queenes majesty (1594). STC 7602 (Lopez affair).
Anon., Usury araigned and condemned (1625). STC 24558.
Flavius Josephus. The famous workes of Josephus. Translated by Thomas Lodge [The History of the Jews]. STC 14809-14813 (several eds.).
Calebbe Shillocke, Calebbe Shillocke, his prophecie, or the Jewes prediction [ballad] (1607). STC 22434.
Anon., The wandring Jew, or the shoomaker of Jerusalem (1620). STC 25015.
Ben-Arod Gad, pseud.The wandring Jew telling fortunes to Englishmen (1640). STC 11512.
Roger Fenton, A treatise of usury (1611). STC 10806.
Sir Thomas Culpepper, A tract against usurie (1621). STC 6108.