The Jew of Malta by Christopher Marlowe (read along books .txt) 📕
Description
Christopher Marlowe wrote The Jew of Malta at the height of his career, and it remained popular until England’s theaters were closed by Parliament in 1642. Many have critiqued it for its portrayal of Elizabethan antisemitism, but others argue that Marlowe criticizes Judaism, Islam, and Christianity equally for their hypocrisy. This antisemitism debate continues on to Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, which was written about ten years later and which some consider to be directly influenced by The Jew of Malta.
The play focuses on a wealthy Jewish merchant named Barabas who lives on the island of Malta. When the island’s governor strips Barabas of all his wealth in order to pay off the invading Turks, Barabas plots and schemes to get his revenge, killing all who get in his way and ultimately pitting Spanish Christians against Ottoman Muslims in an attempt to punish them all.
Scholars dispute the authorship of the play, with some suggesting that the last half was written by a different author. Though the play is known to have been performed as early as 1594, the earliest surviving print edition is from 1633, which includes a prologue and epilogue written by another playwright for a planned revival.
Read free book «The Jew of Malta by Christopher Marlowe (read along books .txt) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Christopher Marlowe
Read book online «The Jew of Malta by Christopher Marlowe (read along books .txt) 📕». Author - Christopher Marlowe
Off with your girdle, make a handsome noose.
Ithamore takes off his girdle, and ties a noose on it.
Friar, awake! They put the noose round the Friar’s neck. Friar Barnadine
What, do you mean to strangle me?
IthamoreYes, ’cause you use to confess.
BarabasBlame not us, but the proverb, Confess and be hanged; pull hard.
Friar BarnadineWhat, will you have67 my life?
BarabasPull hard, I say; you would have had my goods.
IthamoreAy, and our lives too, therefore pull amain. They strangle him.
’Tis neatly done, sir, here’s no print at all.
Then is it as it should be; take him up.
IthamoreNay, master, be ruled by me a little. Stands the body upright against the wall, and puts a staff in its hand.
So, let him lean upon his staff; excellent! he stands as if he were begging of bacon.68
BarabasWho would not think but that this friar lived?
What time o’ night is’t now, sweet Ithamore?
Towards one.
BarabasThen will not Jacomo be long from hence.
Exeunt. Scene III Enter Friar Jacomo.69 Friar JacomoThis is the hour wherein I shall proceed;70
O happy hour wherein I shall convert
An infidel, and bring his gold into our treasury!
But soft, is not this Barnardine? it is;
And, understanding I should come this way,
Stands here a purpose, meaning me some wrong,
And intercept my going to the Jew.—
Barnardine!
Wilt thou not speak? thou think’st I see thee not;
Away, I’d wish thee, and let me go by:
No, wilt thou not? nay, then, I’ll force my way;
And see, a staff stands ready for the purpose:
As thou lik’st that, stop me another time.
Takes the staff, and strikes down the body, which falls down.
Why, how now, Jacomo, what hast thou done?
Friar JacomoWhy, stricken him that would have struck at me.
BarabasWho is it? Barnardine! now out, alas, he’s slain!
IthamoreAy, master, he’s slain; look how his brains drop out on’s nose.
Friar JacomoGood sirs, I have done’t, but nobody knows it but you two—I may escape.
BarabasSo might my man and I hang with you for company.
IthamoreNo, let us bear him to the magistrates.
Friar JacomoGood Barabas, let me go.
BarabasNo, pardon me; the law must have his course
I must be forced to give in evidence,
That being importuned by this Barnardine
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.
Fie upon ’em! master; will you turn Christian, when holy friars turn devils and murder one another?
BarabasNo, 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?
Why, a Turk could ha’ done no more.
BarabasTo-morrow is the sessions; you shall to it.
Come, Ithamore, let’s help to take him hence.
Villains, I am a sacred person; touch me not.
BarabasThe 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.
Pilia-Borza, did’st thou meet with Ithamore?
Pilia-BorzaI did.
BellamiraAnd didst thou deliver my letter?
Pilia-BorzaI did.
BellamiraAnd what think’st thou? will he come?
Pilia-BorzaI think so, but yet I cannot tell; for, at the reading of the letter he looked like a man of another world.
BellamiraWhy so?
Pilia-BorzaThat such a base slave as he should be saluted by such a tall72 man as I am, from such a beautiful dame as you.
BellamiraAnd what said he?
Pilia-BorzaNot a wise word, only gave me a nod, as who should say, “Is it even so?” and so I left him, being driven to a non-plus at the critical aspect of my terrible countenance.
BellamiraAnd where didst meet him?
Pilia-BorzaUpon mine own freehold, within forty feet of the gallows, conning his neck-verse,73 I take it, looking of74 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 exercise75 being done, see where he comes.
Enter Ithamore. IthamoreI never knew a man take his death so patiently as this friar; he was ready to leap off ere the halter was about his neck; and when the hangman had put on his hempen tippet, he made such haste to his prayers, as if he had had another cure to serve. Well, go whither he will, I’ll be none of his followers in haste: and, now I think on’t, going to the execution, a fellow met me with a muschatoes76 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-BorzaThis is the gentleman you writ to.
IthamoreGentleman! he flouts me: what gentry can be in a poor Turk of tenpence?77 I’ll be gone.Aside.
BellamiraIs’t not a sweet-faced youth, Pilia?
IthamoreAgain, “sweet youth!” Aside.—Did not you, sir, bring the sweet youth
Comments (0)