Chapter XX: Act IV: Scene I.548

_Enter_ BARABAS _and_ ITHAMORE. _Bells within._

_Bar._ There is no music to[549] a Christian’s knell:
How sweet the bells ring now the nuns are dead,
That sound at other times like tinker’s pans!
I was afraid the poison had not wrought;
Or, though it wrought, it would have done no good, 5
For every year they swell, and yet they live;
Now all are dead, not one remains alive.

_Itha._ That’s brave, master, but think you it will not be known?

_Bar._ How can it, if we two be secret? 10

_Itha._ For my part fear you not.

_Bar._ I’d cut thy throat if I did.

_Itha._ And reason too.
But here’s a royal monastery hard by;
Good master, let me poison all the monks. 15

_Bar._ Thou shalt not need, for now the nuns are dead
They’ll die with grief.

_Itha._ Do you not sorrow for your daughter’s death?

_Bar._ No, but I grieve because she liv’d so long.
An Hebrew born, and would become a Christian! 20
_Cazzo,[550] diabolo._

_Enter_ Friar JACOMO _and_ Friar BARNARDINE.

_Itha._ Look, look, master, here come two religious caterpillars.

_Bar._ I smelt ’em ere they came. 24

_Itha._ God-a-mercy, nose! Come, let’s begone.

_F. Barn._ Stay, wicked Jew, repent, I say, and stay.

_F. Jac._ Thou hast offended, therefore must be damn’d.

_Bar._ I fear they know we sent the poison’d broth.

_Itha._ And so do I, master; therefore speak ’em fair.

_F. Barn._ Barabas, thou hast—— 30

_F. Jac._ Ay, that thou hast——

_Bar._ True, I have money, what though I have?

_F. Barn._ Thou art a——

_F. Jac._ Ay, that thou art, a——

_Bar._ What needs all this? I know I am a Jew.

_F. Barn._ Thy daughter—— 36

_F. Jac._ Ay, thy daughter——

_Bar._ O speak not of her! then I die with grief.

_F. Barn._ Remember that——

_F. Jac._ Ay, remember that—— 40

_Bar._ I must needs say that I have been a great usurer.

_F. Barn._ Thou hast committed——

_Bar._ Fornification—but that was in another country; and besides,
the wench is dead.

_F. Barn._ Ay, but, Barabas, 45
Remember Mathias and Don Lodowick.

_Bar._ Why, what of them?

_F. Barn._ I will not say that by a forg’d challenge they met.

_Bar._ [_Aside._] She has confest, and we are both undone,—
My bosom inmates!——but I must dissemble.—_Aside._
O holy friars, the burden of my sins 51
Lie 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, 55
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 of Malta; but what is wealth?
I am a Jew, and therefore am I lost. 60
Would penance serve [to atone][551] for this my sin,
I could afford to whip myself to death——

_Itha._ And so could I; but penance will not serve.

_Bar._ To fast, to pray, and wear a shirt of hair,
And on my knees creep to Jerusalem. 65
Cellars of wine, and sollars[552] full of wheat,
Warehouses stuff’d with spices and with drugs,
Whole chests of gold, in bullion, and in coin,
Besides I know not how much weight in pearl,
Orient and round, have I within my house; 70
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, 75
Have I debts owing; and in most of these,
Great sums of money lying in the banco;
All this I’ll give to some religious house
So I may be baptiz’d, and live therein.

_F. Jac._ O good Barabas, come to our house.

_F. Barn._ O no, good Barabas, come to our house; 81
And, Barabas, you know——

_Bar._ I know that I have highly sinn’d.
You shall convert me, you shall have all my wealth.

_F. Jac._ O Barabas, their laws are strict. 85

_Bar._ I know they are, and I will be with you.

_F. Barn._ They wear no shirts, and they go barefoot too.

_Bar._ Then ’t is not for me; and I am resolv’d
You shall confess me, and have all my goods.

_F. Jac._ Good Barabas, come to me. 90

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

_F. Jac._ I’ll be with you to-night.

_Bar._ Come to my house at one o’clock this night.

_F. Jac._ You hear your answer, and you may be gone. 95

_F. Barn._ Why, go, get you away.

_F. Jac._ I will not go for thee.

_F. Barn._ Not! then I’ll make thee, [rogue].[553]

_F. Jac._ How, dost call me rogue? _They fight._

_Itha._ Part ’em, master, part ’em. 100

[_Bar._] This is mere frailty, brethren; be content.
Friar Barnardine, go you with Ithamore:
You know my mind, let me alone with him.
[_Aside to_ F. BARNARDINE.]

_F. Jac._ Why does he go to thy house? Let him be gone.

_Bar._ I’ll give him something and so stop his mouth. 105
_Exit_ [ITHAMORE _with_ Friar BARNARDINE]
I never heard of any man but he
Malign’d the order of the Jacobins:
But do you think that I believe his words?
Why, brother, you converted Abigail;
And I am bound in charity to requite it, 110
And so I will. O Jacomo, fail not, but come.

_F. Jac._ But, Barabas, who shall be your godfathers?
For presently you shall be shriv’d.

_Bar._ Marry, the Turk[554] shall be one of my godfathers,
But not a word to any of your covent.[555] 115

_F. Jac._ I warrant thee, Barabas. _Exit._

_Bar._ So, now the fear is past, and I am safe,
For he that shriv’d her is within my house;
What if I murder’d him ere Jacomo comes?
Now I have such a plot for both their lives 120
As never Jew nor Christian knew the like:
One turn’d my daughter, therefore he shall die;
The other knows enough to have my life,
Therefore ’tis not requisite he should live.
But are not both these wise men to suppose 125
That I will leave my house, my goods, and all,
To fast and be well whipt? I’ll none of that.
Now, Friar Barnardine, I come to you,
I’ll feast you, lodge you, give you fair words,
And after that, I and my trusty Turk— 130
No more, but so: it must and shall be done.
[_Exit._]

[SCENE II.][556]

_Enter_ [BARABAS _and_] ITHAMORE.

_Bar._ Ithamore, tell me, is the friar asleep?

_Itha._ 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. 5

_Bar._ No, ’t is an order which the friars use.
Yet, if he knew our meanings, could he scape?

_Itha._ No, none can hear him, cry he ne’er so loud.

_Bar._ Why, true, therefore did I place him there.
The other chambers open towards the street. 10

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

_Bar._ Come on, sirrah.
Off with your girdle, make a handsome noose.
[ITHAMORE _takes off his girdle and ties a noose in it_.]
Friar, awake! 15
[_They put the noose round the_ Friar’s _neck_.]

_F. Barn._ What, do you mean to strangle me?

_Itha._ Yes, ’cause you use to confess.

_Bar._ Blame not us but the proverb, “Confess and be hanged.” Pull hard!

_F. Barn._ What, will you [have][557] my life? 20

_Bar._ Pull hard, I say.—You would have had my goods.

_Itha._ Ay, and our lives too, therefore pull amain.
[_They strangle him._]
’T is neatly done, sir, here ’s no print at all.

_Bar._ Then is it as it should be; take him up.

_Itha._ Nay, master, be rul’d by me a little, (25) [_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.[558]

_Bar._ Who would not think but that this friar liv’d? 30
What time o’ night is’t now, sweet Ithamore?

_Itha._ Towards one.

_Bar._ Then will not Jacomo be long from hence. [_Exeunt._]

[SCENE III.][559]

_Enter_ Friar JACOMO.

_F. Jac._ This is the hour wherein I shall proceed;[560]
O happy hour wherein I shall convert
An infidel, and bring his gold into
Our treasury!
But soft, is not this Barnardine? It is; 5
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; 10
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 the body, which falls down._

_Enter_ BARABAS [_and_ ITHAMORE].

_Bar._ Why, how now, Jacomo, what hast thou done? (15)

_F. Jac._ Why, stricken him that would have struck at me.

_Bar._ Who is it? Barnardine! Now out, alas, he’s slain!

_Itha._ Ay, master, he’s slain; look how his brains drop out ou ’s
nose. 19

_F. Jac._ Good sirs, I have done’t, but nobody knows it but you two;
I may escape.

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

_Itha._ No, let us bear him to the magistrates.

_F. Jac._ Good Barabas, let me go. 25

_Bar._ No, pardon me; the law must have its course.
I must be forc’d to give in evidence,
That being importun’d by this Barnardine
To be a Christian, I shut him out,
And there he sat. Now I, to keep my word, 30
And give my goods and substance to your house,
Was up thus early; with intent to go
Unto your friary, because you stay’d.[561]

_Itha._ Fie upon ’em, master; will you turn Christian when holy
friars turn devils and (35) murder one another?

_Bar._ 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?

_Itha._ Why, a Turk could ha’ done no more. (40)

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

_F. Jac._ Villains, I am a sacred person; touch me not.

_Bar._ The law shall touch you, we’ll but lead you, we.
’Las, I could weep at your calamity! 45
Take in the staff too, for that must be shown:
Law wills that each particular be known.
_Exeunt._

[SCENE IV.][562]

_Enter_ COURTESAN [BELLAMIRA] _and_ PILIA-BORSA.

_Bell._ Pilia-Borsa, did’st thou meet with Ithamore?

_Pilia._ I did.

_Bell._ And did’st thou deliver my letter?

_Pilia._ I did.

_Bell._ And what think’st thou? Will he come? 5

_Pilia._ I think so, and yet I cannot tell; for at the reading of the
letter he look’d like a man of another world.

_Bell._ Why so?

_Pilia._ That such a base slave as he should (10) be saluted by such
a tall[563] man as I am, from such a beautiful dame as you.

_Bell._ And what said he?

_Pilia._ Not a wise word, only gave me a nod, as who should say, “Is
it even so?” and so I (15) left him, being driven to a non-plus at
the critical aspect of my terrible countenance.

_Bell._ And where didst meet him?

_Pilia._ Upon mine own freehold, within forty feet of the gallows,
conning his neck-verse, (20) I take it, looking of[564] 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[565] being done, see where he comes. 25

_Enter_ ITHAMORE.

_Itha._ 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 (30) had another cure to serve. Well,
go whither he will, I’ll be none of his followers in haste: and,
now I think on ’t, going to the execution, a fellow met me with a
muschatoes[566] like a raven’s wing, and a dagger with a hilt like a
(35) 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 (40) 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 (45) not
worthy to look upon her.

_Pilia._ This is the gentleman you writ to.

_Itha._ [_Aside._] Gentleman! he flouts me; what gentry can be in a
poor Turk of tenpence? I’ll be gone. 50

_Bell._ Is’t not a sweet-fac’d youth, Pilia?

_Itha._ [_Aside._] Again, “sweet youth!”—Did not you, sir, bring the
sweet youth a letter?

_Pilia._ I did, sir, and from this gentlewoman, who, as myself, and
the rest of the family, (55) stand or fall at your service.

_Bell._ Though woman’s modesty should hale me back,
I can withhold no longer; welcome, sweet love.

_Itha._ [_Aside._] Now am I clean, or rather foully, out of the way. 60

_Bell._ Whither so soon?

_Itha._ [_Aside._] I’ll go steal some money from my master to make me
handsome.—Pray pardon me, I must go and see a ship discharg’d.

_Bell._ Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus? 65

_Pilia._ An ye did but know how she loves you, sir.

_Itha._ Nay, I care not how much she loves me—Sweet Bellamira, would
I had my master’s wealth for thy sake!

_Pilia._ And you can have it, sir, an if you please. 70

_Itha._ 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._ And is’t not possible to find it out?

_Itha._ By no means possible. 75

_Bell._ [_Aside to_ PILIA-BORSA.] What shall we do with this base
villain then?

_Pilia._ [_Aside to her._] Let me alone; do but you speak him fair.
But, [sir,] you know some secrets of the Jew,
Which, if they were reveal’d, would do him harm. 79

_Itha._ 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._ Send for a hundred crowns at least.

[ITHAMORE] _writes._

_Itha._ Ten hundred thousand crowns. “Master Barabas.” 85

_Pilia._ Write not so submissively, but threat’ning him.

_Itha._ [_writing._] “Sirrah, Barabas, send me a hundred crowns.”

_Pilia._ Put in two hundred at least.

_Itha._ [_writing._] “I charge thee send me three hundred by this
bearer, and this shall be (90) your warrant: if you do not—no more,
but so.”

_Pilia._ Tell him you will confess.

_Itha._ [_writing._] “Otherwise I’ll confess all.”—Vanish, and
return in a twinkle.

_Pilia._ Let me alone; I’ll use him in his kind. 95

[_Exit_ PILIA-BORSA _with the letter_.]

_Itha._ Hang him, Jew!

_Bell._ Now, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap.—
Where are my maids? Provide a running[567] banquet;
Send to the merchant, bid him bring me silks,
Shall Ithamore, my love, go in such rags? 100

_Itha._ And bid the jeweller come hither too.

_Bell._ I have no husband, sweet; I’ll marry thee.

_Itha._ 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; 105
Where painted carpets o’er the meads are hurl’d,
And Bacchus’ vineyards overspread the world;
Where woods and forests go in goodly green,
I’ll be Adonis, thou shalt be Love’s Queen.
The meads, the orchards, and the primrose-lanes, 110
Instead of sedge and reed, bear sugar-canes;
Thou in those groves, by Dis above,
Shalt live with me and be my love.

_Bell._ Whither will I not go with gentle Ithamore?

_Re-enter_ PILIA-BORSA.

_Itha._ How now! hast thou the gold? 115

_Pilia._ Yes.

_Itha._ But came it freely? Did the cow give down her milk freely?

_Pilia._ At reading of the letter, he star’d and stamp’d and turn’d
aside. I took him by (120) the beard, and look’d upon him thus; told
him he were best to send it; then he hugg’d and embrac’d me.

_Itha._ Rather for fear than love.

_Pilia._ Then, like a Jew, he laugh’d and (125) jeer’d, and told me
he lov’d me for your sake, and said what a faithful servant you had
been.

_Itha._ The more villain he to keep me thus. Here’s goodly ’parel, is
there not? 129

_Pilia._ To conclude, he gave me ten crowns.

[_Gives the money to_ ITHAMORE.]

_Itha._ But ten? I’ll not leave him worth a grey groat. Give me a
ream[568] of paper; we’ll have a kingdom of gold for ’t.

_Pilia._ Write for five hundred crowns. 134

_Itha._ [_writing._] “Sirrah, Jew, as you love your life send me five
hundred crowns, and give the bearer one hundred.” Tell him I must
have ’t.

_Pilia._ I warrant your worship shall have ’t.

_Itha._ And if he ask why I demand so much, tell him I scorn to write
a line under a hundred crowns. 141

_Pilia._ You’d make a rich poet, sir. I am gone. _Exit._

_Itha._ Take thou the money; spend it for my sake.

_Bell._ ’T is not thy money, but thyself I weigh;
Thus Bellamira esteems of gold. 145
[_Throws it aside._]
But thus of thee. _Kisses him._

_Itha._ That kiss again! she runs division[569] of my lips.
What an eye she casts on me! It twinkles like a star.

_Bell._ Come, my dear love, let’s in and sleep together. 149

_Itha._ O, that ten thousand nights were put in one, that we might
sleep seven years together afore we wake!

_Bell._ Come, amorous wag, first banquet, and then sleep. _Exeunt._

[SCENE V.][570]

_Enter_ BARABAS, _reading a letter_.

_Bar._ “Barabas, send me three hundred crowns.—”
Plain Barabas! O, 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. 5
He sent a shaggy totter’d[571] 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 hack’d, some fingers cut quite off; 10
Who, when he speaks, grunts like a hog, and looks
Like one that is employ’d in catzerie[572]
And crossbiting.[573]—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; 15
And when he comes,—O, that he were but here!

_Enter_ PILIA-BORSA.

_Pilia._ Jew, I must ha’ more gold.

_Bar._ Why, want’st thou any of thy tale?[574]

_Pilia._ No; but three hundred will not serve his turn. 21

_Bar._ Not serve his turn, sir?

_Pilia._ No, sir; and, therefore, I must have five hundred more.

_Bar._ I’ll rather—— 25

_Pilia._ O good words, sir, and send it you were hest! See, there’s
his letter. [_Gives letter._]

_Bar._ Might he not as well come as send? Pray bid him come and fetch
it; what he writes for you, ye shall have straight. 30

_Pilia._ Ay, and the rest too, or else——

_Bar._ [_Aside._] I must make this villain away.—Please you dine
with me, sir;—and you shall be most heartily poison’d. _Aside._

_Pilia._ No, God-a-mercy. Shall I have these crowns? 35

_Bar._ I cannot do it. I have lost my keys.

_Pilia._ O, if that be all, I can pick ope your locks.

_Bar._ Or climb up to my counting-house window: you know my meaning.

_Pilia._ I know enough, and therefore talk not to me of your
counting-house. The gold! or (41) know, Jew, it is in my power to
hang thee.

_Bar._ [_Aside._] I am betray’d.—
’T is not five hundred crowns that I esteem,
I am not mov’d at that: this angers me, 45
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._ Here’s many words, but no crowns. The crowns! 50

_Bar._ Commend me to him, sir, most humbly,
And unto your good mistress, as unknown.

_Pilia._ Speak, shall I have ’em, sir?

_Bar._ Sir, here they are.—[_Gives money._]
O, that I should part with so much gold!—
Here, take ’em, fellow, with as good a will——
[_Aside_], As I would see thee hang’d.—O, love stops my breath: 56
Never lov’d man servant as I do Ithamore!

_Pilia._ I know it, sir.

_Bar._ Pray, when, sir, shall I see you at my house?

_Pilia._ Soon enough, to your cost, sir. Fare you well. _Exit._ 60

_Bar._ 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,—
Three hundred crowns,—and then five hundred crowns!
Well, I must seek a means to rid ’em all, 65
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, 69
And how the villain revels with my gold. _Exit._

[SCENE VI.][575]

_Enter_ Courtezan [BELLAMIRA,] ITHAMORE, _and_ PILIA-BORSA.

_Bell._ I’ll pledge thee, love, and therefore drink it off.

_Itha._ Say’st thou me so? Have at it; and, do you hear? [_Whispers._]

_Bell._ Go to, it shall be so.

_Itha._ Of that condition I will drink it up. Here’s to thee!

_Bell._ Nay, I’ll have all or none. 5

_Itha._ There, if thou lov’st me, do not leave a drop.

_Bell._ Love thee! fill me three glasses.

_Itha._ Three and fifty dozen, I’ll pledge thee.

_Pilia._ Knavely spoke, and like a knight-at-arms.

_Itha._ Hey, _Rivo Castiliano_![576] a man’s a man!

_Bell._ Now to the Jew. 11

_Itha._ Ha! to the Jew, and send me money he were best.

_Pilia._ What would ’st thou do if he should send thee none?

_Itha._ Do nothing; but I know what I know; he’s a murderer. 15

_Bell._ I had not thought he had been so brave a man.

_Itha._ You knew Mathias and the governor’s son; he and I killed ’em
both, and yet never touch’d ’em.

_Pilia._ O, bravely done. 20

_Itha._ I carried the broth that poison’d the nuns; and he and I,
snickle hand too fast,[577] strangled a friar.

_Bell._ You two alone?

_Itha._ We two; and ’t was never known, nor never shall be for me. 25

_Pilia._ [_Aside to_ BELLAMIRA.] This shall with me unto the governor.

_Bell._ [_Aside to_ PILIA-BORSA.] And fit it should: but first let’s
ha’ more gold,—Come, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap.

_Itha._ Love me little, love me long. Let music rumble 30
Whilst I in thy incony[578] lap do tumble.

_Enter_ BARABAs, _with a lute, disguis’d_.

_Bell._ A French musician! Come, let’s hear your skill.

_Bar._ Must tuna my lute for sound, twang, twang, first.

_Itha._ Wilt drink, Frenchman? Here’s to (35) thee with a——Pox on
this drunken hiccup!

_Bar._ Gramercy, monsieur.

_Bell._ Prythee, Pilia-Borsa, bid the fiddler give me the posy in his
hat there.

_Pilia._ Sirrah, you must give my mistress your posy. 41

_Bar. À votre commandement, madame._

_Bell._ How sweet, my Ithamore, the flowers smell!

_Itha._ Like thy breath, sweetheart; no violet like ’em. 45

_Pilia._ Foh! methinks they stink like a hollyhock.

_Bar._ [_Aside._] So, now I am reveng’d upon ’em all.
The scent thereof was death; I poison’d it.

_Itha._ Play, fiddler, or I’ll cut your cat’s guts into chitterlings. 51

_Bar. Pardonnez moi_, be no in tune yet; so now, now all be in.

_Itha._ Give him a crown, and fill me out more wine.

_Pilia._ There’s two crowns for thee; play. 55

_Bar._ (_Aside._) How liberally the villain gives me mine own gold!
[_Plays._]

_Pilia._ Methinks he fingers very well.

_Bar._ (_Aside._) So did you when you stole my gold. 60

_Pilia._ How swift he runs!

_Bar._ (_Aside._) You run swifter when you threw my gold out of my
window.

_Bell._ Musician, hast been in Malta long?

_Bar._ Two, three, four month, madame. 65

_Itha._ Dost not know a Jew, one Barabas?

_Bar._ Very mush; monsieur, you no be his man?

_Pilia._ His man?

_Itha._ I scorn the peasant; tell him so. 70

_Bar._ [_Aside._] He knows it already.

_Itha._ ’Tis a strange thing of that Jew, he lives upon pickled
grasshoppers and sauc’d mushrooms.

_Bar._ (_Aside._) What a slave’s this? The governor feeds not as I
do. 76

_Itha._ He never put on clean shirt since he was circumcis’d.

_Bar._ (_Aside._) O rascal! I change myself twice a day. 80

_Itha._ The hat he wears, Judas left under the elder when he hang’d
himself.[579]

_Bar._ (_Aside._) ’T was sent me for a present from the great Cham.

_Pilia._ A musty[580] slave he is;—Whither now, fiddler? 86

_Bar. Pardonnez moi, monsieur_, me be no well. _Exit._

_Pilia._ Farewell, fiddler! One letter more to the Jew.

_Bell._ Prythee, sweet love, one more, and write it sharp. 90

_Itha._ No, I’ll send by word of mouth now.—Bid him deliver thee a
thousand crowns, by the same token, that the nuns lov’d rice, that
Friar Barnardine slept in his own clothes; any of ’em will do it. 95

_Pilia._ Let me alone to urge it, now I know the meaning.

_Itha._ The meaning has a meaning. Come let’s in.
To undo a Jew is charity, and not sin. _Exeunt._