SceneV

3 0 00

Scene

V

Enter Barabas, reading a letter.

Barabas

“Barabas, send me three hundred crowns.⁠—”

Plain Barabas! O, that wicked courtesan!

He was not wont to call me Barabas.

“Or else I will confess:” ay, there it goes:

But, if I get him, coupe de gorge for that.

He sent a shaggy tottered, staring slave,

That when he speaks draws out his grisly beard,

And winds it twice or thrice about his ear;

Whose face has been a grindstone for men’s swords;

His hands are hacked, some fingers cut quite off;

Who, when he speaks, grunts like a hog, and looks

Like one that is employed in catzerie

And cross-biting,⁠—such a rogue

As is the husband to a hundred whores:

And I by him must send three hundred crowns!

Well, my hope is, he will not stay there still;

And, when he comes: O, that he were but here!

Enter Pilia-Borza.

Pilia-Borza

Jew, I must have more gold.

Barabas

Why, want’st thou any of thy tale?

Pilia-Borza

No; but three hundred will not serve his turn.

Barabas

Not serve his turn, sir!

Pilia-Borza

No, sir; and therefore, I must have five hundred more.

Barabas

I’ll rather⁠—

Pilia-Borza

O good words, sir, and send it you were best! see, there’s his letter. Gives letter.

Barabas

Might he not as well come as send? pray bid him come and fetch it; what he writes for you, ye shall have straight.

Pilia-Borza

Ay, and the rest too, or else⁠—

Barabas

I must make this villain away. Aside.

Please you dine with me, sir;⁠—and you shall be most heartily poisoned. Aside.

Pilia-Borza

No, God-a-mercy. Shall I have these crowns?

Barabas

I cannot do it; I have lost my keys.

Pilia-Borza

O, if that be all, I can pick ope your locks.

Barabas

Or climb up to my counting-house window: you know my meaning.

Pilia-Borza

I know enough, and therefore talk not to me of your counting-house. The gold! or know, Jew, it is in my power to hang thee.

Barabas

I am betrayed.⁠—Aside.

’Tis not five hundred crowns that I esteem,

I am not moved at that: this angers me,

That he, who knows I love him as myself,

Should write in this imperious vein. Why, sir,

You know I have no child, and unto whom

Should I leave all but unto Ithamore?

Pilia-Borza

Here’s many words, but no crowns: the crowns!

Barabas

Commend me to him, sir, most humbly,

And unto your good mistress, as unknown.

Pilia-Borza

Speak, shall I have ’em, sir?

Barabas

Sir, here they are. Gives money.

O, that I should part with so much gold! Aside.

Here, take ’em, fellow, with as good a will⁠—

As I would see thee hanged; Aside. O, love stops my breath:

Never loved man servant as I do Ithamore!

Pilia-Borza

I know it, sir.

Barabas

Pray, when, sir, shall I see you at my house?

Pilia-Borza

Soon enough to your cost, sir. Fare you well.

Exit.

Barabas

Nay, to thine own cost, villain, if thou com’st!

Was ever Jew tormented as I am?

To have a shag-rag knave to come, force from me

Three hundred crowns, and then five hundred crowns!

Well, I must seek a means to rid ’em all,

And presently; for in his villany

He will tell all he knows, and I shall die for’t.

I have it:

I will in some disguise go see the slave,

And how the villain revels with my gold.

Exit.