SCENE IV.

_Enter_[117] BELLAMIRA _and_ PILIA-BORSA.

_Bell._ Pilia-Borsa, did'st thou meet with Ithamore?

_Pilia._ I did.

_Bell._ And didst thou deliver my letter?

_Pilia._ I did.

_Bell._ And what think'st thou? will he come?

_Pilia._ I think so, but yet I cannot tell; for at the reading of the letter he look'd like a man of another world.

_Bell._ Why so?

_Pilia._ That such a base slave as he should be saluted by such a tall man as I am, from such a beautiful dame as you. 12

_Bell._ And what said he?

_Pilia._ 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.

_Bell._ And where didst meet him?

_Pilia._ Upon mine own freehold, within forty feet of the gallows, conning his neck-verse,[118] I take it, looking of 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 exercise[119] being done, see where he comes. 24

_Enter_ ITHAMORE.

_Itha._ 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 muschatoes[120] 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. 41

_Pilia._ This is the gentleman you writ to.

_Itha._ Gentleman! he flouts me; what gentry can be in a poor Turk of tenpence?[121] I'll be gone. [_Aside._

_Bell._ Is't not a sweet-faced youth, Pilia?

_Itha._ Again, "sweet youth;" [_Aside_]--did not you, sir, bring the sweet youth a letter?

_Pilia._ I did, sir, and from this gentlewoman, who, as myself, and the rest of the family, stand or fall at your service. 50

_Bell._ Though woman's modesty should hale me back, I can withhold no longer; welcome, sweet love.

_Itha._ Now am I clean, or rather foully out of the way. [_Aside._ _Bell._ Whither so soon?

_Itha._ I'll go steal some money from my master to make me handsome [_Aside_]: Pray pardon me, I must go and see a ship discharged.

_Bell._ Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus?

_Pilia._ And ye did but know how she loves you, sir.

_Itha._ Nay, I care not how much she loves me. Sweet Bellamira, would I had my master's wealth for thy sake.

_Pilia._ And you can have it, sir, an if you please. 62

_Itha._ 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._ And is't not possible to find it out?

_Itha._ By no means possible.

_Bell._ What shall we do with this base villain then? [_Aside to_ PILIA-BORSA. _Pilia._ Let me alone; do you but speak him fair: [_Aside to her._ But [sir] you know some secrets of the Jew, 70 Which, if they were revealed, would do him harm.

_Itha._ I, and such as--Go to, no more. I'll make him send me half he has, and glad he scapes so too. [_Pen and ink._[122] I'll write unto him; we'll have money straight.

_Pilia._ Send for a hundred crowns at least.

_Itha._ Ten hundred thousand crowns--_Master Barabas_. [_Writing_. _Pilia._ Write not so submissively, but threatening him.

_Itha._ _Sirrah, Barabas, send me a hundred crowns._

_Pilia._ Put in two hundred at least.

_Itha._ _I charge thee send me three hundred by this bearer, and this shall be your warrant; if you do not, no more, but so._ 82

_Pilia._ Tell him you will confess.

_Itha._ _Otherwise I'll confess all_--Vanish, and return in a twinkle.

_Pilia._ Let me alone; I'll use him in his kind. [_Exit_ Pilia-Borsa. _Itha._ Hang him, Jew.

_Bell._ Now, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap. Where are my maids? provide a running[123] banquet; Send to the merchant, bid him bring me silks, 90 Shall Ithamore, my love, go in such rags?

_Itha._ And bid the jeweller come hither too.

_Bell._ I have no husband, sweet; I'll marry thee.

_Itha._ 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. 100 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.

_Bell._ Whither will I not go with gentle Ithamore?

_Enter_ PILIA-BORSA.

_Itha._ How now! hast thou the gold?

_Pilia._ Yes.

_Itha._ But came it freely? did the cow give down her milk freely?

_Pilia._ At reading of the letter, he stared and stamped and turned aside. I took him by the beard,[124] and looked upon him thus; told him he were best to send it; then he hugged and embraced me. 113

_Itha._ Rather for fear than love.

_Pilia._ 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.

_Itha._ The more villain he to keep me thus; here's goodly 'parel, is there not?

_Pilia._ To conclude, he gave me ten crowns. 120

_Itha._ But ten? I'll not leave him worth a grey groat. Give me a ream[125] of paper; we'll have a kingdom of gold for 't.

_Pilia._ Write for five hundred crowns.

_Itha._ [_Writing._] _Sirrah, Jew, as you love your life send me five hundred crowns, and give the bearer one hundred._ Tell him I must have 't.

_Pilia._ I warrant your worship shall have 't.

_Itha._ And if he ask why I demand so much, tell him I scorn to write a line under a hundred crowns. 130

_Pilia._ You'd make a rich poet, sir. I am gone. [_Exit._

_Itha._ Take thou the money; spend it for my sake.

_Bell._ 'Tis not thy money, but thyself I weigh: Thus Bellamira esteems of gold. [_Throws it on the floor._ But thus of thee. [_Kisses him._

_Itha._ That kiss again; she runs division[126] of my lips. What an eye she casts on me? It twinkles like a star.

_Bell._ Come, my dear love, let's in and sleep together.

_Itha._ O, that ten thousand nights were put in one, that we might sleep seven years together afore we wake.

_Bell._ Come, amorous wag, first banquet, and then sleep. 141 [_Exeunt._