Act 3 — [Scene V.][542]

Fern. Welcome, great basso; how fares Calymath? What wind drives you thus into Malta-road? Bas. The wind that bloweth all the world besides,— Desire of gold. Fern. Desire of gold, great sir? That’s to be gotten in the Western Ind:5 In Malta are no golden minerals. Bas. To you of Malta thus saith Calymath: The time you took for respite is at hand, For the performance of your promise pass’d, And for the tribute-money I am sent.10 Fern. Basso, in brief, shalt have no tribute here, Nor shall the heathens live upon our spoil. First will we raze the city walls ourselves, Lay waste the island, hew the temples down, And, shipping off our goods to Sicily,15 Open an entrance for the wasteful sea, Whose billows beating the resistless banks, Shall overflow it with their refluence. Bas. Well, Governor, since thou hast broke the league By flat denial of the promis’d tribute,20 Talk not of razing down your city walls. You shall not need trouble yourselves so far, For Selim Calymath shall come himself, And with brass bullets batter down your towers, And turn proud Malta to a wilderness25 For these intolerable wrongs of yours; And so farewell. Fern. Farewell. [Exit Basso.] And now, you men of Malta, look about, And let’s provide to welcome Calymath.30 Close your portcullis, charge your basilisks,[543] And as you profitably take up arms, So now courageously encounter them; For by this answer, broken is the league, And naught is to be look’d for now but wars,35 And naught to us more welcome is than wars. Exeunt.