BARABAS. Pardonnez moi, be no in tune yet: so, now, now all be in.
ITHAMORE. Give him a crown, and fill me out more wine.
PILIA-BORZA. There's two crowns for thee: play. [Giving money.]
BARABAS. How liberally the villain gives me mine own gold! [Aside, and then plays.]
PILIA-BORZA. Methinks he fingers very well.
BARABAS. So did you when you stole my gold. [Aside.]
BARABAS. You run swifter when you threw my gold out of my window. [Aside.]
BELLAMIRA. Musician, hast been in Malta long?
ITHAMORE. Dost not know a Jew, one Barabas?
BARABAS. Very mush: monsieur, you no be his man?
ITHAMORE. I scorn the peasant: tell him so.
ITHAMORE. 'Tis a strange thing of that Jew, he lives upon pickled grasshoppers and sauced mushrooms. [175]
BARABAS. What a slave's this! the governor feeds not as I do. [Aside.]
ITHAMORE. He never put on clean shirt since he was circumcised.
BARABAS. O rascal! I change myself twice a-day. [Aside.]
ITHAMORE. The hat he wears, Judas left under the elder when he hanged himself. [176]
BARABAS. 'Twas sent me for a present from the Great Cham. [Aside.]
PILIA-BORZA. A nasty [177] slave he is.--Whither now, fiddler?
BARABAS. Pardonnez moi, monsieur; me [178] be no well.
PILIA-BORZA. Farewell, fiddler [Exit BARABAS.] One letter more to the Jew.
BELLAMIRA. Prithee, sweet love, one more, and write it sharp.
ITHAMORE. No, I'll send by word of mouth now. --Bid him deliver thee a thousand crowns, by the same token that the nuns loved rice, that Friar Barnardine slept in his own clothes; any of 'em will do it.
PILIA-BORZA. Let me alone to urge it, now I know the meaning.
ITHAMORE. The meaning has a meaning. Come, let's in: To undo a Jew is charity, and not sin. [Exeunt.]
Enter FERNEZE, [179] KNIGHTS, MARTIN DEL BOSCO, and OFFICERS.
FERNEZE. Now, gentlemen, betake you to your arms, And see that Malta be well fortified; And it behoves you to be resolute; For Calymath, having hover'd here so long, Will win the town, or die before the walls.
FIRST KNIGHT. And die he shall; for we will never yield.
FERNEZE. Away with her! she is a courtezan.
BELLAMIRA. Whate'er I am, yet, governor, hear me speak: I bring thee news by whom thy son was slain: Mathias did it not; it was the Jew.
PILIA-BORZA. Who, besides the slaughter of these gentlemen, Poison'd his own daughter and the nuns, Strangled a friar, and I know not what Mischief beside.