Volume II Part 7 (1/2)

_Enter_ LODOWICK.

_Lod._ I hear the wealthy Jew walked this way: I'll seek him out, and so insinuate, That I may have a sight of Abigail; For Don Mathias tells me she is fair.

_Bar._ Now will I show myself To have more of the serpent than the dove; That is--more knave than fool.

_Lod._ Yond' walks the Jew; now for fair Abigail.

_Bar._ I, I, no doubt but she's at your command. [_Aside._ 40

_Lod._ Barabas, thou know'st I am the Governor's son.

_Bar._ I would you were his father too, sir; That's all the harm I wish you.--The slave looks Like a hog's-cheek new singed. [_Aside._

_Lod._ Whither walk'st thou, Barabas?

_Bar._ No farther: 'tis a custom held with us, That when we speak with Gentiles like to you, We turn into the air to purge ourselves: For unto us the promise doth belong.

_Lod._ Well, Barabas, canst help me to a diamond? 50

_Bar._ O, sir, your father had my diamonds.

Yet I have one left that will serve your turn:-- I mean my daughter: but ere he shall have her I'll sacrifice her on a pile of wood.

I ha' the poison of the city [?] for him, And the white leprosy. [_Aside._

_Lod._ What sparkle does it give without a foil?

_Bar._ The diamond that I talk of ne'er was foiled:-- But when he touches it, he will be foiled:-- [_Aside._ Lord Lodowick, it sparkles bright and fair. 60

_Lod._ Is it square or pointed, pray let me know.

_Bar._ Pointed it is, good sir--but not for you. [_Aside._

_Lod._ I like it much the better.

_Bar._ So do I too.

_Lod._ How shows it by night?

_Bar._ Outs.h.i.+nes Cynthia's rays: You'll like it better far o' nights than days. [_Aside._

_Lod._ And what's the price?

_Bar._ Your life an' if you have it. [_Aside._] O my lord, We will not jar about the price; come to my house And I will give't your honour--with a vengeance. [_Aside._

_Lod._ No, Barabas, I will deserve it first. 70

_Bar._ Good sir, Your father has deserved it at my hands, Who, of mere charity and Christian truth, To bring me to religious purity, And as it were in catechising sort, To make me mindful of my mortal sins, Against my will, and whether I would or no, Seized all I had, and thrust me out o' doors, And made my house a place for nuns most chaste.

_Lod._ No doubt your soul shall reap the fruit of it. 80

_Bar._ I, but, my lord, the harvest is far off: And yet I know the prayers of those nuns And holy friars, having money for their pains, Are wondrous;--and indeed do no man good: [_Aside._ And seeing they are not idle, but still doing, 'Tis likely they in time may reap some fruit, I mean in fulness of perfection.