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SCENE IV. - Christopher Marlowe, The Works of Christopher Marlowe, vol. 2 [1593]

Edition used:

The Works of Christopher Marlowe, ed. A.H. Bullen (London: John C. Nimmo, 1885). Vol. 2.

Part of: The Works of Christopher Marlowe, 3 vols.

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Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.


SCENE IV.

Enter1Barabas, reading a letter.

Bar.

  • What, Abigail become a nun again!
  • False and unkind; what, hast thou lost thy father?
  • And all unknown, and unconstrained of me,
  • Art thou again got to the nunnery?
  • Now here she writes, and wills me to repent.
  • Repentance! Spurca! what pretendeth2 this?
  • I fear she knows—'tis so—of my device
  • In Don Mathias' and Lodovico's deaths:
  • If so, 'tis time that it be seen into:
  • For she that varies from me in belief

    10

  • Gives great presumption that she loves me not;
  • Or loving, doth dislike of something done.—
  • But who comes here?
  • EnterIthamore.
  • O Ithamore, come near;
  • Come near, my love; come near, thy master's life,
  • My trusty servant, nay, my second self:1
  • For I have now no hope but even in thee,
  • And on that hope my happiness is built.
  • When saw'st thou Abigail?

Itha.

  • To-day.

Bar.

  • With whom?

Itha.

  • A friar.

Bar.

  • A friar! false villain, he hath done the deed.

    20

Itha.

  • How, sir?

Bar.

  • Why, made mine Abigail a nun.

Itha.

  • That's no lie, for she sent me for him.

Bar.

  • O unhappy day!
  • False, credulous, inconstant Abigail!
  • But let 'em go: and, Ithamore, from hence
  • Ne'er shall she grieve me more with her disgrace;
  • Ne'er shall she live to inherit aught of mine,
  • Be blest of me, nor come within my gates,
  • But perish underneath my bitter curse,
  • Like Cain by Adam for his brother's death.

    30

Itha.

  • O master!

Bar.

  • Ithamore, entreat not for her, I am moved,
  • And she is hateful to my soul and me:
  • And 'less1 thou yield to this that I entreat,
  • I cannot think but that thou hat'st my life.

Itha.

  • Who, I, master? Why, I'll run to some rock,
  • And throw myself headlong into the sea;

Bar.

  • O trusty Ithamore, no servant, but my friend:
  • I here adopt thee for mine only heir,

    40

  • All that I have is thine when I am dead,
  • And whilst I live use half; spend as myself;
  • Here take my keys, I'll give 'em thee anon:
  • Go buy thee garments: but thou shall not want:
  • Only know this, that thus thou art to do:
  • But first go fetch me in the pot of rice

Itha.

  • I hold my head my master's hungry. I go, sir.
  • [Exit.

Bar.

  • Thus every villain ambles after wealth,
  • Although he ne'er be richer than in hope:

    50

  • But, husht!
  • EnterIthamorewith the pot.

Itha.

  • Here 'tis, master.

Bar.

  • Well said, Ithamore; what, hast thou brought
  • The ladle with thee too?

Itha.

  • Yes, sir, the proverb says he that eats with the devil had need of a long spoon.1 I have brought you a ladle.

Bar.

  • Very well, Ithamore, then now be secret;
  • And for thy sake, whom I so dearly love,
  • Now shalt thou see the death of Abigail,

    60

  • That thou may'st freely live to be my heir.

Itha.

  • Why, master, will you poison her with a mess of rice porridge? that will preserve life, make her round and plump, and batten more than you are aware.

Bar.

  • Ay, but, Ithamore, seest thou this?
  • It is a precious powder that I bought
  • Of an Italian, in Ancona, once,
  • Whose operation is to bind, infect,
  • And poison deeply, yet not appear
  • In forty hours after it is ta'en.

    70

Itha.

  • How, master?

Bar.

  • Thus, Ithamore.
  • This even they use in Malta here,—'tis called
  • Saint Jacques' Even,—and then I say they use
  • To send their alms unto the nunneries:
  • Among the rest bear this, and set it there;
  • There's a dark entry where they take it in,
  • Where they must neither see the messenger,
  • Nor make inquiry who hath sent it them.

Itha.

  • How so?

    80

Bar.

  • Belike there is some ceremony in't.
  • There, Ithamore, must thou go place this pot!1
  • Stay, let me spice it first.

Itha.

  • Pray do, and let me help you, master. Pray let me taste first.

Bar.

  • Prythee do: what say'st thou now?

Itha.

  • Troth, master, I'm loth such a pot of pottage should be spoiled.

Bar.

  • Peace, Ithamore, 'tis better so than spared.
  • Assure thyself thou shalt have broth by the eye,2

    90

  • My purse, my coffer, and myself is thine.

Itha.

  • Well, master, I go.

Bar.

  • Stay, first let me stir it, Ithamore.
  • As fatal be it to her as the draught
  • Of which great Alexander drunk and died:
  • And with her let it work like Borgia's wine,
  • Whereof his sire, the Pope, was poisonèd.
  • In few,3 the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane:
  • The juice of hebon,4 and Cocytus' breath,
  • And all the poisons of the Stygian pool

    100

  • Break from the fiery kingdom; and in this
  • Vomit your venom and invenom her
  • That like a fiend hath left her father thus.
  • “Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole
  • With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial.”

Itha.

  • What a blessing has he given't! was ever pot of rice porridge so sauced! What shall I do with it?

Bar.

  • O, my sweet Ithamore, go set it down,
  • And come again so soon as thou hast done,
  • For I have other business for thee.

Itha.

  • Here's a drench to poison a whole stable of Flanders mares: I'll carry 't to the nuns with a powder.

Bar.

  • And the horse pestilence to boot; away!

    111

Itha.

  • I am gone.
  • Pay me my wages, for my work is done.
  • [Exit.

Bar.

  • I'll pay thee with a vengeance, Ithamore.
  • [Exit.

[1]Scene: a room in Barabas' house.

[2]I.e., portendeth.

[1]Old ed. “life.”

[1]Old ed. “least.”

[1]A very old proverb; it is found in Chaucer's Squicres Tale, John Heywood's Proverbs, Comedy of Errors, &c.

[1]Old ed. “plot.”

[2]I.e., in abundance. Dyce compares Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle, ii. 2:—” Here's money and gold by th'eye, my boy.”

[3]Briefly.

[4]The juice of ebony (variously written “hebon” or “hebenon”) was thought to be a strong poison. Cf. Hamlet, i. 5.—