previous next

Act Three, Scene One

Enter aCurtezane.

Since this Towne was besieg'd, my gaine growes cold:
The time has bin, that but for one bare night
A hundred Duckets have bin freely given:
But now against my will I must be chast.
And yet I know my beauty doth not faire.
From Venice Merchants, and from Padua
Were wont to come rare witted Gentlemen,
Schollers I meane, learned and liberall;
And now, save Pilia-borza, comes there none,
And he is very seldome from my house;
And here he comes.
Enter Pilia-borza.

Hold thee, wench, there's something for thee to spend.

'Tis silver, I disdaine it.

I, but the Jew has gold,
And I will have it or it shall goe hard.

Tell me, how cam'st thou by this?

Faith, walking the backe lanes through the Gardens
I chanc'd to cast mine eye up to the Jewes counting-house where
I saw some bags of mony, and in the night I clamber'd up with my
hooks, and as I was taking my choyce, I heard a rumbling in the
house; so I tooke onely this, and runne my way: but here's the
Jews man.

Enter Ithimore.

Hide the bagge.

Looke not towards him, let's away:
Zoon's what a looking thou keep'st, thou'lt betraye's anon.

O the sweetest face that ever I beheld! I know she is a
Curtezane by her attire: now would I give a hundred of the Jewes
Crownes that I had such a Concubine.

Well, I have deliver'd the challenge in such sort,
As meet they will, and fighting dye; brave sport.

hide Display Preferences
Greek Display:
Arabic Display:
View by Default:
Browse Bar: