The Jew of Malta · Act IV · Scene IV

Scene IV
Enter Bellamira and Pilia-Borza.71
Bellamira Pilia-Borza, did’st thou meet with Ithamore?
Pilia-Borza I did.
Bellamira And didst thou deliver my letter?
Pilia-Borza I did.
Bellamira And what think’st thou? will he come?
Pilia-Borza I think so, but yet I cannot tell; for, at the reading of the letter he looked like a man of another world.
Bellamira Why so?
Pilia-Borza That such a base slave as he should be saluted by such a tall72 man as I am, from such a beautiful dame as you.
Bellamira And what said he?
Pilia-Borza 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.
Bellamira And where didst meet him?
Pilia-Borza Upon mine own freehold, within forty feet of the gallows, conning his neck-verse,73 I take it, looking of74 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 exercise75 being done, see where he comes.
Enter Ithamore.
Ithamore 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 a muschatoes76 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.
Pilia-Borza This is the gentleman you writ to.
Ithamore Gentleman! he flouts me: what gentry can be in a poor Turk of tenpence?77 I’ll be gone. Aside.
Bellamira Is’t not a sweet-faced youth, Pilia?
Ithamore Again, “sweet youth!” Aside.⁠—Did not you, sir, bring the sweet youth a letter?
Pilia-Borza I did, sir, and from this gentlewoman, who, as myself, and the rest of the family, stand or fall at your service.
Bellamira Though woman’s modesty should hale me back, I can withhold no longer: welcome, sweet love.
Ithamore Now am I clean, or rather foully out of the way. Aside.
Bellamira Whither so soon?
Ithamore I’ll go steal some money from my master to make me handsome Aside.⁠—Pray, pardon me; I must go see a ship discharged.
Bellamira Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus?
Pilia-Borza An ye did but know how she loves you, sir!
Ithamore Nay, I care not how much she loves me⁠—Sweet Bellamira, would I had my master’s wealth for thy sake!
Pilia-Borza And you can have it, sir, an if you please.
Ithamore 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-Borza And is’t not possible to find it out?
Ithamore By no means possible.
Bellamira What shall we do with this base villain then? Aside to Pilia-Borza.
Pilia-Borza Let me alone; do but you speak him fair.⁠—Aside to her. But sir know some secrets of the Jew, Which, if they were revealed, would do him harm.
Ithamore Ay, and such as⁠—Go to, no more! I’ll make him send me half he has, and glad he ’scapes so too: I’ll write unto him; we’ll have money straight.
Pilia-Borza Send for a hundred crowns at least.
Ithamore Ten hundred thousand crowns.⁠—Writing. “Master Barabas.”
Pilia-Borza Write not so submissively, but threatening him.
Ithamore Writing. “Sirrah Barabas, send me a hundred crowns.”
Pilia-Borza Put in two hundred at least.
Ithamore Writing. “I charge thee send me three hundred by this bearer, and this shall be your warrant: if you do not⁠—no more, but so.”
Pilia-Borza Tell him you will confess.
Ithamore Writing. “Otherwise I’ll confess all.”⁠—Vanish, and return in a twinkle.
Pilia-Borza Let me alone; I’ll use him in his kind.
Exit Pilia-Borza with the letter.
Ithamore Hang him, Jew!
Bellamira Now, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap.⁠— Where are my maids? provide a running78 banquet; Send to the merchant, bid him bring me silks; Shall Ithamore, my love, go in such rags?
Ithamore And bid the jeweller come hither too.
Bellamira I have no husband, sweet; I’ll marry thee.
Ithamore 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; Where painted carpets o’er the meads are hurled, 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, Instead of sedge and reed, bear sugar-canes: Thou in those groves, by Dis above, Shalt live with me, and be my love.
Bellamira Whither will I not go with gentle Ithamore?
Reenter Pilia-Borza.
Ithamore How now! hast thou the gold?
Pilia-Borza Yes.
Ithamore But came it freely? did the cow give down her milk freely?
Pilia-Borza At reading of the letter, he stared and stamped and turned aside. I took him by the beard, and looked upon him thus; told him he were best to send it; then he hugged and embraced me.
Ithamore Rather for fear than love.
Pilia-Borza Then, like a Jew, he laughed and jeered, and told me he loved me for your sake, and said what a faithful servant you had been.
Ithamore The more villain he to keep me thus; here’s goodly ’parel, is there not?
Pilia-Borza To conclude, he gave me ten crowns. Gives the money to Ithamore.
Ithamore But ten? I’ll not leave him worth a grey groat. Give me a ream79 of paper: we’ll have a kingdom of gold for’t.
Pilia-Borza Write for five hundred crowns.
Ithamore Writing. “Sirrah Jew, as you love your life, send me five hundred crowns, and give the bearer a hundred.⁠—” Tell him I must have’t.
Pilia-Borza I warrant, your worship shall have’t.
Ithamore And, if he ask why I demand so much, tell him I scorn to write a line under a hundred crowns.
Pilia-Borza You’d make a rich poet, sir. I am gone.
Exit.
Ithamore Take thou the money; spend it for my sake.
Bellamira ’Tis not thy money, but thyself I weigh; Thus Bellamira esteems of gold. Throws it aside. But thus of thee. Kisses him.
Ithamore That kiss again! she runs division80 of my lips. What an eye she casts on me! it twinkles like a star.
Bellamira Come, my dear love, let’s in and sleep together.
Ithamore O, that ten thousand nights were put in one, that we might sleep seven years together afore we wake!
Bellamira Come, amorous wag, first banquet, and then sleep.
Exeunt.