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Itha. Nay, master be rul'd by me a little; so, let him lean upon his staff; excellent, he stands as if he were begging of bacon.

Bar. Who would not think but that this friar liv'd? What time o' night is't now, sweet Ithamore?

Itha. Towards one.

Bar. Then will not Jacomo belong from hence.


Enter Jacomo.

Jaco. This is the hour wherein I shall proceed;
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.

[Strikes him, and he falls. Enter Barabas and Ithamore. Bar. Why, how now Jacomo, what hast thou done? Jaco. Why stricken him that would have struck

at me.

Bar. Who is it?
Barnardine? now out, alas, he's slain.

Itha. Aye, master, he's slain; look how his brains drop out on's nose.

Jaco. 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.

Jaco. Good Barabas, let me go.

Bar. No, pardon me, the law must have its


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 1 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 stay'd.

Itha. Fie upon 'em, master, will you turn Christian, when Holy friars turn devils and 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 it the like?

Itha. Why a Turk could have done no more.

Bar. To morrow is the sessions; you shall to it. Come Ithamore, let's help to take him hence.

Jaco. Villains, I am a sacred pewon, touch me not.

Bar. 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 Courtezan, and Pilia-borsa.

Coubt. Pilia-borsa,didstthou meet with Ithamore?

Pilia. I did.

Court. And didst thou deliver my letterT

Pilia. I did.

Court. And what think'st thou, will he come?

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.

Court. Why so?

Pilia. 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.

Court. 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 left him, being driven to a non-plus at the critical aspect of my terrible countenance.

Court. And where didst meet him?

Pilia. Upon mine own free-hold, within forty foot of the gallows, conning his neck-verse I take it, looking of a friar's execution, whom I saluted with an old hempen proverbjHodze tibi, eras mihi, and so I left him to the mercy of the hangman: but the exercise being done, see where he comes.

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 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 mustachios 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.

Pi Li A. This is the gentleman you writ to. Itha. Gentleman, he flouts me, what gentry can he in a poor Turk of ten pence? I'll be gone. Court. Is't not a sweet fac'd youth, Pilia? Itha. 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, stand or fall at your service.

Court. Though woman's modesty should hale me back, I can withhold no longer; welcome sweet love.

vOL. I. 1?

Itha. Now am I clean, or rather foully out of the way.

Court. Whither so soon?

Itha. I'll go steal some money from my master to make me handsome : Pray pardon me, I must go see a ship discharg'd.

Court. Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus?

Pilia. And ye did but know how she loves yon, 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, and if you please.

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.

Court. What shall we do with this base villain then? \.Aside to Pi Ha Borsa.

Pilia. Let me alone, do but you speak him fair: But you know some secrets of the Jew, which,

[Aside to her. If they were reveal'd would do him harm.

Itha. Aye, 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!

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