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Act Five, Scene One

Enter Governor, Knights, Martin Del Bosco.

Now, Gentlemen, betake you to your Armes,
And see that Malta be well fortifi'd;
And it behoves you to be resolute;
For Calymath having hover'd here so long,
Will winne the Towne, or dye before the wals.

1. Knight
And dye he shall, for we will never yeeld.
Enter Curtezane, Pilia- borza.

Oh bring us to the Governor.

Away with her, she is a Curtezane.

What e're I am, yet Governor heare me speake;
I bring thee newes by whom thy sonne was slaine:
Mathias did it not, it was the Jew.

Who, besides the slaughter of these Gentlemen,
poyson'd his owne daughter and the Nuns, strangled a Fryar,
and I know not what mischiefe beside.

Had we but proofe of this

Strong proofe, my Lord, his man's now at my lodging
That was his Agent, he'll confesse it all.

Goe fetch him straight.
[Exit Officers.]
I alwayes fear'd that Jew.
Enter Jew, Ithimore [with Officers].

I'le goe alone, dogs, do not hale me thus.

Nor me neither, I cannot out-run you Constable, oh
my belly.

One dram of powder more had made all sure.
What a damn'd slave was I?

Make fires, heat irons, let the racke be fetch'd.

1. Knight
Nay stay, my Lord, 'tmay be he will confesse.

Confesse; what meane you, Lords, who should confesse?

Thou and thy Turk; 'twas you that slew my son.

Gilty, my Lord, I confesse; your sonne and Mathias
were both contracted unto Abigall;he forg'd a counterfeit

Who carried that challenge?

I carried it, I confesse, but who writ it?
Marry, even he that strangled Bernardine, poyson'd the Nuns, and
his owne daughter.

Away with him, his sight is death to me.

For what? you men of Malta, heare me speake;
Shee is a Curtezane and he a theefe,
And he my bondman, let me have law,
For none of this can prejudice my life.

Once more away with him; you shall have law.

Devils doe your worst, I'le live in spite of you.
As these have spoke so be it to their soules:
I hope the poyson'd flowers will worke anon.
Exit [Barabas, Curtezane, Pilia-borza, with Officers].
Enter Mater.

Was my Mathias murder'd by the Jew?
Ferneze, 'twasthy sonne that murder'd him.

Be patient, gentle Madam, it was he,
He forged the daring challenge made them fight.

Where is the Jew, where is that murderer?

In prison till the Law has past on him.
Enter 1. Officer.

1. Officer
My Lord, the Curtezane and her man are dead; so
So is the Turke, and Barabas the Jew.


1. Officer
Dead, my Lord, and here they bring his body.
[Enter Officers carrying Barabas, as dead.]

This sudden death of his is very strange.

Wonder not at it, Sir, the heavens are just:
Their deaths were like their lives, then think not of 'em:
Since they are dead, let them be buried.
For the Jewes body, throw that o're the wals,
To be a prey for Vultures and wild beasts.
[They take body aside.]
So, now away and fortifie the Towne.
Exeunt. [Manet Barabas.]

What, all alone? well fare sleepy drinke.
I'le be reveng'd on this accursed Towne;
For by my meanes Calymath shall enter in.
I'le helpe to slay their children and their wives,
To fire the Churches, pull their houses downe,
Take my goods too, and seize upon my lands:
I hope to see the Governour a slave,
And, rowing in a Gally, whips to death.
Enter Calymath, Bashawes, Turkes.

Whom have we there, a spy?

Yes, my good Lord, one that can spy a place
Where you may enter, and surprize the Towne:
My name is Barabas; I am a Jew.

Art thou that Jew whose goods we heard were sold
For Tribute-mony?

The very same, my Lord:
And since that time they have hir'd a slave my man
To accuse me of a thousand villanies:
I was imprison'd, but escap'd their hands.

Didst breake prison?

No, no:

I dranke of Poppy and cold mandrake juyce;
And being asleepe, belike they thought me dead,
And threw me o're the wals: so, or how else,
The Jew is here, and rests at your command.

'Twas bravely done: but tell me, Barabas,
Canst thou, as thou reportest, make Malta ours?

Feare not, my Lord, for here, against the sluice,
The rocke is hollow, and of purpose digg'd,
To make a passage for the running streames
And common channels of the City.
Now whilst you give assault unto the wals,
I'le lead five hundred souldiers through the Vault,
And rise with them i'th middle of the Towne,
Open the gates for you to enter in,
And by this meanes the City is your owne.

If this be true, I'le make thee Governor.

And if it be not true, then let me dye.

Thou'st doom'd thy selfe, assault it presently.

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