The Jew of Malta by Christopher Marlowe (great books to read TXT) 📕

in my power to hang thee.

BARABAS. I am betray’d.— [Aside.] ‘Tis not five hundred crowns that I esteem; I am not mov’d 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.— [Gives money.] O, that I should part<165> with so much gold!— [Aside.] Here, take ‘em, fellow, with as good a will–- As I would see thee hang’d [Aside]. O, love stops my breath! Never lov’d 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 shag-rag knave to come [force from me] Three hundred crowns, and then five hundred crowns! Well; I must seek a means to rid<166> ‘em all, And presently; for in his villany He will tell all he knows, and I shall die for’t. I have it: I will in some disguise go see the slave, And how the villain revels with my gold. [Exit.]

Enter BELLAMIRA,<167> ITHAMORE, and 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? [Whispers to her.]

BELLAMIRA. Go to, it shall be so.

ITHAMORE. Of<168> that condition I will drink it up: Here’s to thee.

BELLAMIRA.<169> 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!<170> a man’s a man.

BELLAMIRA. Now to the Jew.

ITHAMORE. Ha! to the Jew; and send me money he<171> 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. O, bravely done!

ITHAMORE. I carried the broth that poisoned the nuns; and he and I, snicle hand too fast, strangled a friar.<172>

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. [Aside to BELLAMIRA.]

BELLAMIRA. And fit it should: but first let’s ha’ more gold.— [Aside to PILIA-BORZA.] Come, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap.

ITHAMORE. Love me little, love me long: let music rumble, Whilst I in thy incony<173> lap do tumble.

Enter BARABAS, disguised as a French musician, with a lute, and a nosegay in his hat.

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. [Giving nosegay.]

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.<174>

BARABAS. So, now I am reveng’d upon ‘em all: The scent thereof was death; I poison’d it. [Aside.]

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. [Giving money.]

BARABAS. How liberally the villain gives me mine own gold! [Aside, and then plays.]

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. [Aside.]

ITHAMORE. ‘Tis a strange thing of that Jew, he lives upon pickled grasshoppers and sauced mushrooms.<175>

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. O rascal! I change myself twice a-day. [Aside.]

ITHAMORE. The hat he wears, Judas left under the elder when he hanged himself.<176>

BARABAS. ‘Twas sent me for a present from the Great Cham. [Aside.]

PILIA-BORZA. A nasty<177> slave he is.—Whither now, fiddler?

BARABAS. Pardonnez moi, monsieur; me<178> be no well.

PILIA-BORZA. Farewell, fiddler [Exit BARABAS.] 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 Barnardine 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.]

 

ACT V.

Enter FERNEZE,<179> KNIGHTS, MARTIN DEL BOSCO, and OFFICERS.

FERNEZE. Now, gentlemen, betake you to your arms, And see that Malta be well fortified; And it behoves you to be resolute; For Calymath, having hover’d here so long, Will win the town, or die before the walls.

FIRST KNIGHT. And die he shall; for we will never yield.

Enter BELLAMIRA and PILIA-BORZA.

BELLAMIRA. O, bring us to the governor!

FERNEZE. Away with her! she is a courtezan.

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, Poison’d 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<180> straight [Exeunt OFFICERS]. I always fear’d that Jew.

Re-enter OFFICERS with BARABAS and ITHAMORE.

BARABAS. I’ll go alone; dogs, do not hale me thus.

ITHAMORE. Nor me neither; I cannot out-run you, constable.—O, my belly!

BARABAS. One dram of powder more had made all sure: What a damn’d slave was I! [Aside.]

FERNEZE. Make fires, heat irons, let the rack be fetch’d.

FIRST KNIGHT. Nay, stay, my lord; ‘t may be he will confess.

BARABAS. Confess! what mean you, lords? who should confess?

FERNEZE. Thou and thy Turk; ‘twas 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 Barnardine, 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 courtezan, 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[‘ll] live in spite of you.— [Aside.] As these have spoke, so be it to their souls!— I hope the poison’d flowers will work anon. [Aside.] [Exeunt OFFICERS with BARABAS and ITHAMORE; BELLAMIRA, and PILIA-BORZA.]

Enter KATHARINE.

KATHARINE. Was my Mathias murder’d by the Jew? Ferneze, ‘twas thy son that murder’d him.

FERNEZE. Be patient, gentle madam: it was he; He forg’d the daring challenge made them fight.

KATHARINE. Where is the Jew? where is that murderer?

FERNEZE. In prison, till the law has pass’d on him.

Re-enter FIRST OFFICER.

FIRST OFFICER. My lord, the courtezan and her man are dead; So is the Turk and Barabas the Jew.

FERNEZE. Dead!

FIRST OFFICER. Dead, my lord, and here they bring his body.

MARTIN DEL BOSCO. This sudden death of his is very strange.

Re-enter OFFICERS, carrying BARABAS as dead.

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 all, leaving BARABAS on the floor.<181>]

BARABAS. [rising] What, all alone! well fare, sleepy drink! I’ll be reveng’d 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, whipt to death.

Enter CALYMATH, BASSOES,<182> and TURKS.

CALYMATH. Whom have we there? a spy?

BARABAS. Yes, my good lord, one that can spy a place Where you may enter, and surprize 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 hir’d a slave, my man, To accuse me of a thousand villanies: I was imprisoned, but scap<’>d 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 trench,<183> The rock is hollow, and of purpose digg’d, To make a passage for the running streams And common channels<184> of the city. Now, whilst you give assault unto the walls, I’ll lead five hundred soldiers through the vault, And rise with them i’ the 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 doom’d thyself.—Assault it presently. [Exeunt.]

Alarums within. Enter CALYMATH,<185> BASSOES, TURKS, and BARABAS; with FERNEZE and KNIGHTS prisoners.

CALYMATH. Now vail<186> 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 kept<187> thy promise than be thus surpris’d?

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 promis’d thee, For thy desert we make thee governor; Use them at thy discretion.

BARABAS. Thanks, my lord.

FERNEZE. O fatal day, to fall into the hands Of such a traitor and unhallow’d Jew! What greater misery could heaven inflict?

CALYMATH. ‘Tis our command:—and, Barabas, we give, To guard thy person, these our Janizaries: Entreat<188> them well, as we have used thee.— And now, brave bassoes,<189> come; we’ll walk about The ruin’d town, and see the wreck we made.— Farewell, brave Jew, farewell, great Barabas!

BARABAS. May all good fortune follow