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Act Four, Scene Four

Enter Curtezane, Ithimore, Pilia-borza.

Curtezane
I'le pledge thee, love, and therefore drinke it off.

Ithimore
Saist thou me so? have at it; and doe you heare?
[Whispers her.]

Curtezane
Goe to, it shall be so.

Ithimore
Of that condition I wil drink it up; here's to thee.

Curtezane
Nay, I'le have all or none.

Ithimore
There, if thou lov'st me doe not leave a drop.

Curtezane
Love thee, fill me three glasses.

Ithimore
Three and fifty dozen, I'le pledge thee.

Pilia-borza
Knavely spoke, and like a Knight at Armes.

Ithimore
Hey Rivo Castiliano, a man's a man.

Curtezane
Now to the Jew.

Ithimore
Ha, to the Jew, and send me mony you were best.

Pilia-borza
What wudst thou doe if he should send thee none?

Ithimore
Doe?nothing; but I know what I know.
He's a murderer.

Curtezane
I had not thought he had been so brave a man.


Ithimore
You knew Mathias and the Governors son; he and I
kild 'em both, and yet never touch'd 'em.


Pilia-borza
Oh bravely done.


Ithimore
I carried the broth that poyson'd the Nuns, and he
and I, sniclehandtoofast, strangled a Fryar.


Curtezane
You two alone?


Ithimore
We two, and 'twas never knowne, nor never shall be
for me.


Pilia-borza
This shall with me unto the Governor.

[Aside to Bellamira.]

Curtezane
And fit it should: but first let's ha more gold.
[Aside to Pilia-borza.]
Come gentle Ithimore, lye in my lap.

Ithimore
Love me little, love me long, let musicke rumble,
Whilst I in thy incony lap doe tumble.
Enter Barabas with a Lute, disguis'd.

Curtezane
A French Musician, come let's heare your skill?

Barabas
Must tuna my Lute for sound, twang twang first.


Ithimore
Wilt drinke French-man, here's to thee with a—pox on
this drunken hick-up.


Barabas
Gramercy Mounsier.


Curtezane
Prethe, Pilia-borza, bid the Fidler give me the posey
in his hat there.


Pilia-borza
Sirra, you must give my mistris your posey.


Barabas
A voustre commandemente Madam.


Curtezane
How sweet, my Ithimore, the flowers smell.


Ithimore
Like thy breath, sweet-hart, no violet like 'em.


Pilia-borza
Foh, me thinkes they stinke like a Holly-Hoke.

Barabas
So, now I am reveng'd upon 'em all.
[Aside.]
The scent thereof was death, I poyson'd it.


Ithimore
Play, Fidler, or I'le cut your cats guts into chitterlins.


Barabas
Pardona moy, be no in tune yet; so, now, now all be in.

Ithimore
Give him a crowne, and fill me out more wine.


Pilia-borza
There's two crownes for thee, play.


Barabas
How liberally the villian gives me mine own gold.

Aside.


Pilia-borza
Me thinkes he fingers very well.


Barabas
So did you when you stole my gold.

Aside.


Pilia-borza
How swift he runnes.


Barabas
Yourun swifter when you threw my gold out of my

Window.
Aside.


Curtezane
Musician, hast beene in Malta long?


Barabas
Two, three, foure month Madam.


Ithimore
Dost not know a Jew, one Barabas?


Barabas
Very mush, Mounsier, you no be his man?


Pilia-borza
His man?


Ithimore
I scorne the Peasant, tell him so.


Barabas
He knowes it already.

[Aside.]


Ithimore
Tis a strange thing of that Jew, he lives upon pickled
Grashoppers, and sauc'd Mushrumbs.


Barabas
What a slave's this?The Governour feeds not as I doe.

Aside


Ithimore
He never put on
cleane shirt since he was circumcis'd.


Barabas
Oh raskall! I change my selfe twice a day.

Aside


Ithimore
The Hat he weares, Judas left under the Elder when he hang'd himselfe.


Barabas
'Twas sent me for a present from the great Cham.

Aside


Pilia-borza
A
mastyslave he is.

Whether now, Fidler?


Barabas
Pardona moy, Mounsier, mebe no well.

Exit.


Pilia-borza
Farewell Fidler: One letter more to the Jew.


Curtezane
Prethe sweet love, one more, and write it sharp.


Ithimore
No, I'le send by word of mouth now;
Bid him deliver thee a thousand Crownes, by the same token, that
the Nuns lov'd Rice, that Fryar Bernardine slept in his owne
clothes.
Any of 'em will doe it.


Pilia-borza
Let me alone to urge it now I know the meaning.

Ithimore
The meaning has a meaning; come let's in:
To undoe a Jew is charity, and not sinne.
Exeunt.

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