Act 1 — [Scene II.][480]

Fern. Now, Bassoes,[481] what demand you at our hands? 1 Bas. Know, Knights of Malta, that we came from Rhodes, From Cyprus, Candy, and those other Isles That lie betwixt the Mediterranean seas. Fern. What ’s Cyprus, Candy, and those other Isles5 To us or Malta? What at our hands demand ye? Cal. The ten years’ tribute that remains unpaid. Fern. Alas! my lord, the sum is over-great. I hope your highness will consider us.

Cal. I wish, grave governor, ’t were in my power10 To favour you, but ’t is my father’s cause, Wherein I may not, nay, I dare not dally.

Fern. Then give us leave, great Selim Calymath. [Consults apart with the Knights.]

Cal. Stand all aside, and let the knights determine, And send to keep our galleys under sail,15 For happily[482] we shall not tarry here.— Now, governor, how are you resolv’d?

Fern. Thus: since your hard conditions are such That you will needs have ten years’ tribute past, We may have time to make collection20 Amongst the inhabitants of Malta for ’t.

1 Bas. That’s more than is in our commission.

Cal. What, Callipine! a little courtesy. Let ’s know their time, perhaps it is not long; And ’t is more kingly to obtain by peace25 Than to enforce conditions by constraint. What respite ask you, governors?

Fern. But a month.

Cal. We grant a month, but see you keep your promise. Now launch our galleys back again to sea, Where we’ll attend[483] the respite you have ta’en, And for the money send our messenger.31 Farewell, great governor and brave Knights of Malta.

Fern. And all good fortune wait on Calymath! Exeunt [Calymath and Bassoes.] Go one and call those Jews of Malta hither: Were they not summon’d to appear to-day?35

Off. They were, my lord, and here they come.

1 Knight. Have you determined what to say to them? Fern. Yes, give me leave:—and, Hebrews, now come near. From the Emperor of Turkey is arriv’d Great Selim Calymath, his highness’ son,40 To levy of us ten years’ tribute past, Now then, here know that it concerneth us— Bar. Then, good my lord, to keep your quiet still, Your lordship shall do well to let them have it. Fern. Soft, Barabas, there’s more longs to ’t than so.45 To what this ten years’ tribute will amount, That we have cast,[484] but cannot compass it By reason of the wars that robb’d our store; And therefore are we to request your aid. Bar. Alas, my lord, we are no soldiers;50 And what’s our aid against so great a prince? 1 Knight. Tut, Jew, we know thou art no soldier; Thou art a merchant and a monied man, And ’t is thy money, Barabas, we seek.54 Bar. How, my lord! my money? Fern. Thine and the rest. For, to be short, amongst you ’t must be had. 1 Jew. Alas, my lord, the most of us are poor. Fern. Then let the rich increase your portions. Bar. Are strangers with your tribute to be tax’d? 2 Knight. Have strangers leave with us to get their wealth?60 Then let them with us contribute. Bar. How! Equally? Fern. No, Jew, like infidels. For through our sufferance of your hateful lives, Who stand accursed in the sight of Heaven, These taxes and afflictions are befall’n,65 And therefore thus we are determined. Read there the articles of our decrees.

Bar. O earth-mettl’d villains, and no Hebrews born! And will you basely thus submit yourselves80 To leave your goods to their arbitrament? Fern. Why, Barabas, wilt thou be christened? Bar. No, governor, I will be no convertite.[486] Fern. Then pay thy half. Bar. Why, know you what you did by this device?85 Half of my substance is a city’s wealth. Governor, it was not got so easily; Nor will I part so slightly therewithal. Fern. Sir, half is the penalty of our decree, Either pay that, or we will seize on all.90 Bar. Corpo di Dio! stay! you shall have half; Let me be us’d but as my brethren are. Fern. No, Jew, thou hast denied the articles, And now it cannot be recall’d.

Bar. Will you then steal my goods?95 Is theft the ground of your religion? Fern. No, Jew, we take particularly thine To save the ruin of a multitude; And better one want for the common good Than many perish for a private man.100 Yet, Barabas, we will not banish thee, But here in Malta, where thou gott’st thy wealth, Live still; and, if thou canst, get more. Bar. Christians, what or how can I multiply? Of naught is nothing made.105 1 Knight. From naught at first thou cam’st to little wealth, From little unto more, from more to most. If your first curse fall heavy on thy head, And make thee poor and scorn’d of all the world, ’T is not our fault, but thy inherent sin.110 Bar. What, bring you Scripture to your wrongs? Preach me not out of my possessions. Some Jews are wicked, as all Christians are; But say the tribe that I descended of Were all in general cast away for sin,115 Shall I be tried by their transgression? The man that dealeth righteously shall live; And which of you can charge me otherwise? Fern. Out, wretched Barabas! Sham’st thou not thus to justify thyself,120 As if we knew not thy profession? If thou rely upon thy righteousness, Be patient and thy riches will increase. Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness: And covetousness, O, ’tis a monstrous sin.125 Bar. Ay, but theft is worse. Tush! take not from me then, For that is theft; and if you rob me thus, I must be forc’d to steal and compass more. 1 Knight. Grave governor, list not to his exclaims. Convert his mansion to a nunnery;130 Re-enter Officers. His house will harbour many holy nuns. Fern. It shall be so. Now, officers, have you done? Off. Ay, my lord, we have seiz’d upon the goods And wares of Barabas, which being valued, Amount to more than all the wealth in Malta.135 And of the other we have seized half. [Fern.] Then we’ll take order for the residue. Bar. Well then, my lord, say, are you satisfied? You have my goods, my money, and my wealth, My ships, my store, and all that I enjoy’d;140 And, having all, you can request no more; Unless your unrelenting flinty hearts Suppress all pity in your stony breasts, And now shall move you to bereave my life. Fern. No, Barabas, to stain our hands with blood145 Is far from us and our profession. Bar. Why, I esteem the injury far less To take the lives of miserable men Than be the causers of their misery. You have my wealth, the labour of my life,150 The comfort of mine age, my children’s hope, And therefore ne’er distinguish of the wrong. Fern. Content thee, Barabas, thou hast naught but right. Bar. Your extreme right does me exceeding wrong: But take it to you, i’ the devil’s name.155 Fern. Come, let us in, and gather of these goods The money for this tribute of the Turk. 1 Knight. ’Tis necessary that be look’d unto; For if we break our day, we break the league, And that will prove but simple[487] policy.160 Exeunt [all except Barabas and the Jews.] Bar. Ay, policy! that’s their profession, And not simplicity, as they suggest. The plagues of Egypt, and the curse of Heaven, Earth’s barrenness, and all men’s hatred Inflict upon them, thou great Primus Motor!165 And here upon my knees, striking the earth, I ban their souls to everlasting pains And extreme tortures of the fiery deep, That thus have dealt with me in my distress. 1 Jew. O yet be patient, gentle Barabas.170 Bar. O silly brethren, born to see this day, Why stand you thus unmov’d with my laments? Why weep you not to think upon my wrongs? Why pine not I, and die in this distress? 1 Jew. Why, Barabas, as hardly can we brook175 The cruel handling of ourselves in this; Thou seest they have taken half our goods. Bar. Why did you yield to their extortion? You were a multitude, and I but one; And of me only have they taken all.180 1 Jew. Yet, Brother Barabas, remember Job. Bar. What tell you me of Job? I wot his wealth Was written thus: he had seven thousand sheep, Three thousand camels, and two hundred yoke Of labouring oxen, and five hundred185 She-asses: but for every one of those, Had they been valued at indifferent rate, I had at home, and in mine argosy, And other ships that came from Egypt last, As much as would have bought his beasts and him,190 And yet have kept enough to live upon: So that not he, but I may curse the day, Thy fatal birth-day, forlorn Barabas; And henceforth wish for an eternal night,194 That clouds of darkness may inclose my flesh, And hide these extreme sorrows from mine eyes: For only I have toil’d to inherit here The months of vanity and loss of time, And painful nights, have been appointed me.[488] 2 Jew. Good Barabas, be patient.200 Bar. Ay; Pray, leave me in my patience. You that Were ne’er possess’d of wealth, are pleas’d with want; But give him liberty at least to mourn, That in a field amidst his enemies205 Doth see his soldiers slain, himself disarm’d, And knows no means of his recovery. Ay, let me sorrow for this sudden chance; ’Tis in the trouble of my spirit I speak; Great injuries are not so soon forgot.210 1 Jew. Come, let us leave him; in his ireful mood Our words will but increase his ecstasy.[489] 2 Jew. On, then; but trust me ’t is a misery To see a man in such affliction.— Farewell, Barabas! Exeunt [the three Jews.] Bar. Ay, fare you well.215 See the simplicity of these base slaves, Who, for the villains have no wit themselves, Think me to be a senseless lump of clay That will with every water wash to dirt. No, Barabas is born to better chance,220 And fram’d of finer mould than common men, That measure naught but by the present time. A reaching thought will search his deepest wits, And cast[490] with cunning for the time to come: For evils are apt to happen every day.—225 Enter Abigail.[491] But wither wends my beauteous Abigail? O! what has made my lovely daughter sad? What, woman! moan not for a little loss: Thy father has enough in store for thee. Abig. Not for myself, but aged Barabas;230 Father, for thee lamenteth Abigail. But I will learn to leave these fruitless tears, And, urg’d thereto with my afflictions, With fierce exclaims run to the senate-house, And in the senate reprehend them all,235 And rend their hearts with tearing of my hair, Till they reduce[492] the wrongs done to my father. Bar. No, Abigail, things past recovery Are hardly cur’d with exclamations. Be silent, daughter, sufferance breeds ease,240 And time may yield us an occasion Which on the sudden cannot serve the turn. Besides, my girl, think me not all so fond[493] As negligently to forego so much Without provision for thyself and me:245 Ten thousand portagues,[494] besides great pearls, Rich costly jewels, and stones infinite, Fearing the worst of this before it fell, I closely hid. Abig. Where, father? Bar. In my house, my girl. Abig. Then shall they ne’er be seen of Barabas:250 For they have seiz’d upon thy house and wares. Bar. But they will give me leave once more, I trow, To go into my house. Abig. That may they not: For there I left the governor placing nuns, Displacing me; and of thy house they mean255 To make a nunnery, where none but their own sect[495] Must enter in; men generally barr’d. Bar. My gold! my gold! and all my wealth is gone! You partial heavens, have I deserv’d this plague? What, will you thus oppose me, luckless stars,260 To make me desperate in my poverty? And knowing me impatient in distress, Think me so mad as I will hang myself, That I may vanish o’er the earth in air, And leave no memory that e’er I was?265 No, I will live; nor loathe I this my life: And, since you leave me in the ocean thus To sink or swim, and put me to my shifts, I’ll rouse my senses and awake myself.269 Daughter, I have it! Thou perceiv’st the plight Wherein these Christians have oppressed me. Be rul’d by me, for in extremity We ought to make bar of no policy. Abig. Father, whate’er it be to injure them That have so manifestly wronged us,275 What will not Abigail attempt? Bar. Why, so; Then thus, thou told’st me they have turn’d my house Into a nunnery, and some nuns are there? Abig. I did. Bar. Then, Abigail, there must my girl Entreat the abbess to be entertain’d.280 Abig. How, as a nun? Bar. Ay, daughter, for religion Hides many mischiefs from suspicion. Abig. Ay, but, father, they will suspect me there. Bar. Let ’em suspect; but be thou so precise As they may think it done of holiness.285 Entreat ’em fair, and give them friendly speech, And seem to them as if thy sins were great, Till thou has gotten to be entertain’d. Abig. Thus, father, shall I much dissemble. Bar. Tush! As good dissemble that thou never mean’st,290 As first mean truth and then dissemble it. A counterfeit profession is better Than unseen hypocrisy. Abig. Well, father, say [that] I be entertain’d. What then shall follow? Bar. This shall follow then: There have I hid, close underneath the plank296 That runs along the upper-chamber floor, The gold and jewels which I kept for thee. But here they come; be cunning, Abigail. Abig. Then, father, go with me. Bar. No, Abigail, in this It is not necessary I be seen;301 For I will seem offended with thee for ’t. Be close,[496] my girl, for this must fetch my gold. [They retire.]

F. Jac. Sisters,304 We now are almost at the new-made nunnery. Abb. The better; for we love not to be seen. ’T is thirty winters long since some of us Did stray so far amongst the multitude. F. Jac. But, madam, this house And waters[497] of this new-made nunnery310 Will much delight you. Abb. It may be so; but who comes here? [Abigail comes forward.] Abig. Grave abbess, and you, happy virgins’ guide, Pity the state of a distressed maid. Abb. What art thou, daughter?315 Abig. The hopeless daughter of a hapless Jew, The Jew of Malta, wretched Barabas; Sometimes the owner of a goodly house, Which they have now turn’d to a nunnery. Abb. Well, daughter, say, what is thy suit with us?320 Abig. Fearing the afflictions which my father feels Proceed from sin, or want of faith in us, I ’d pass away my life in penitence, And be a novice in your nunnery, To make atonement for my labouring soul.325 F. Jac. No doubt, brother, but this proceedeth of the spirit. F. Barn. Ay, and a moving spirit too, brother; but come, Let us entreat she may be entertain’d. Abb. Well, daughter, we admit you for a nun.329 Abig. First let me as a novice learn to frame My solitary life to your strait laws, And let me lodge where I was wont to lie. I do not doubt, by your divine precepts And mine own industry, but to profit much. Bar. As much, I hope, as all I hid is worth. Aside. Abb. Come, daughter, follow us.336 Bar. [coming forward.] Why, how now, Abigail, what makest thou Amongst these hateful Christians? F. Jac. Hinder her not, thou man of little faith,339 For she has mortified herself. Bar. How! mortified? F. Jac. And is admitted to the sisterhood. Bar. Child of perdition, and thy father’s shame! What wilt thou do among these hateful fiends? I charge thee on my blessing that thou leave These devils, and their damned heresy.345 Abig. Father, give me— [She goes to him.] Bar. (Whispers to her.) Nay, back, Abigail,— And think upon the jewels and the gold; The board is marked thus that covers it.— Away, accursed, from thy father’s sight. F. Jac. Barabas, although thou art in misbelief,350 And wilt not see thine own afflictions, Yet let thy daughter be no longer blind. Bar. Blind friar, I reck not thy persuasions,— (The board is marked thus + that covers it.) [Aside to Abigail in a whisper.] For I had rather die than see her thus.355 Wilt thou forsake me too in my distress, Seduced daughter? (Go, forget not!) Aside. Becomes it Jews to be so credulous?— (To-morrow early I’ll be at the door.) Aside. No, come not at me; if thou wilt be damn’d, Forget me, see me not, and so be gone.—361 (Farewell, remember to-morrow morning.)— Aside. Out, out, thou wretch! [Exeunt, on one side Barabas, on the other side Friars, Abbess, Nun, and Abigail; as they are going out,]

Math. Who’s this? Fair Abigail, the rich Jew’s daughter, Become a nun! Her father’s sudden fall365 Has humbled her and brought her down to this. Tut, she were fitter for a tale of love, Than to be tired out with orisons; And better would she far become a bed, Embraced in a friendly lover’s arms,370 Than rise at midnight to a solemn mass.

Lod. Why, how now, Don Mathias! in a dump? Math. Believe me, noble Lodowick, I have seen The strangest sight, in my opinion, That ever I beheld. Lod. What was ’t I pritbee?375 Math. A fair young maid, scarce fourteen years of age, The sweetest flower in Cytherea’s field, Cropt from the pleasures of the fruitful earth, And strangely metamorphos’d [to a] nun. Lod. But say, what was she? Math. Why, the rich Jew’s daughter. Lod. What, Barabas, whose goods were lately seiz’d?381 Is she so fair? Math. And matchless beautiful, As, had you seen her, ’t would have mov’d your heart, Though countermin’d with walls of brass, to love, Or at the least to pity.385 Lod. And if she be so fair as you report, ’T were time well spent to go and visit her. How say you, shall we? Math. I must and will, sir; there ’s no remedy. Lod. And so will I too, or it shall go hard. Farewell, Mathias. Math. Farewell, Lodowick.391 Exeunt [severally.]