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_ ACT III - SCENE IV
[Enter BARABAS, [105] reading a letter.]
[Footnote 105: Enter BARABAS: The scene is still within the house of Barabas; but some time is supposed to have elapsed since the preceding conference between Abigail and Friar Jacomo.]
BARABAS.
What, Abigail become a nun again!
False and unkind! what, hast thou lost thy father?
And, all unknown and unconstrain'd of me,
Art thou again got to the nunnery?
Now here she writes, and wills me to repent:
Repentance! Spurca! what pretendeth [106] 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,
Gives great presumption that she loves me not,
Or, loving, doth dislike of something done.--
But who comes here?
[Enter ITHAMORE.]
O Ithamore, come near;
Come near, my love; come near, thy master's life,
My trusty servant, nay, my second self; [107]
For I have now no hope but even in thee,
And on that hope my happiness is built.
When saw'st thou Abigail?
[Footnote 106: pretendeth: Equivalent to PORTENDETH; as in our author's FIRST BOOK OF LUCAN, "And which (ay me) ever PRETENDETH ill," &c.]
[Footnote 107: self: Old ed. "life" (the compositor's eye having caught "life" in the preceding line).]
ITHAMORE.
To-day.
BARABAS.
With whom?
ITHAMORE.
A friar.
BARABAS.
A friar! false villain, he hath done the deed.
ITHAMORE.
How, sir!
BARABAS.
Why, made mine Abigail a nun.
ITHAMORE.
That's no lie; for she sent me for him.
BARABAS.
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 bless'd of me, nor come within my gates,
But perish underneath my bitter curse,
Like Cain by Adam for his brother's death.
ITHAMORE.
O master--
BARABAS.
Ithamore, entreat not for her; I am mov'd,
And she is hateful to my soul and me:
And, 'less [108] thou yield to this that I entreat,
I cannot think but that thou hat'st my life.
[Footnote 108: 'less: Old ed. "least."]
ITHAMORE.
Who, I, master? why, I'll run to some rock,
And throw myself headlong into the sea;
Why, I'll do any thing for your sweet sake.
BARABAS.
O trusty Ithamore! no servant, but my friend!
I here adopt thee for mine only heir:
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 shalt not want:
Only know this, that thus thou art to do--
But first go fetch me in the pot of rice
That for our supper stands upon the fire.
ITHAMORE.
I hold my head, my master's hungry [Aside].--I go, sir.
[Exit.]
BARABAS.
Thus every villain ambles after wealth,
Although he ne'er be richer than in hope:--
But, husht!
[Re-enter ITHAMORE with the pot.]
ITHAMORE.
Here 'tis, master.
BARABAS.
Well said, [109] Ithamore! What, hast thou brought
The ladle with thee too?
[Footnote 109: Well said: See note *, p. 69.]
(note *, p. 69, The Second Part of Tamburlaine the Great:
"* Well said: Equivalent to--Well done! as appears from
innumerable passages of our early writers: see, for
instances, my ed. of Beaumont and Fletcher's WORKS, vol. i.
328, vol. ii. 445, vol. viii. 254.")]
ITHAMORE.
Yes, sir; the proverb says, [110] he that eats with the
devil had need of a long spoon; I have brought you a ladle.
[Footnote 110: the proverb says, &c.: A proverb as old as Chaucer's time: see the SQUIERES TALE, v. 10916, ed. Tyrwhitt.]
BARABAS.
Very well, Ithamore; then now be secret;
And, for thy sake, whom I so dearly love,
Now shalt thou see the death of Abigail,
That thou mayst freely live to be my heir.
ITHAMORE.
Why, master, will you poison her with a mess of
rice- porridge? that will preserve life, make her round and plump, and
batten [111] more than you are aware.
[Footnote 111: batten: i.e. fatten.]
BARABAS.
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.
ITHAMORE.
How, master?
BARABAS.
Thus, Ithamore:
This even they use in Malta here,--'tis call'd
Saint Jaques' 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.
ITHAMORE.
How so?
BARABAS.
Belike there is some ceremony in't.
There, Ithamore, must thou go place this pot: [112]
Stay; let me spice it first.
[Footnote 112: pot: Old ed. "plot."]
ITHAMORE.
Pray, do, and let me help you, master.
Pray, let me taste first.
BARABAS.
Prithee, do.[ITHAMORE tastes.] What say'st thou now?
ITHAMORE.
Troth, master, I'm loath such a pot of pottage should
be spoiled.
BARABAS.
Peace, Ithamore! 'tis better so than spar'd.
[Puts the powder into the pot.]
Assure thyself thou shalt have broth by the eye: [113]
My purse, my coffer, and myself is thine.
[Footnote 113: thou shalt have broth by the eye: "Perhaps he means--thou shalt SEE how the broth that is designed for thee is made, that no mischievous ingredients enter its composition. The passage is, however, obscure." STEEVENS (apud Dodsley's O. P.).--"BY THE EYE" seems to be equivalent to--in abundance. Compare THE CREED of Piers Ploughman:
"Grey grete-heded quenes
With gold BY THE EIGHEN."
v. 167, ed. Wright (who has no note on the expression): and Beaumont and Fletcher's KNIGHT OF THE BURNING PESTLE, act ii. sc. 2; "here's money and gold BY TH' EYE, my boy." In Fletcher's BEGGARS' BUSH, act iii. sc. 1, we find, "Come, English beer, hostess, English beer BY THE BELLY!"]
ITHAMORE.
Well, master, I go.
BARABAS.
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 poisoned!
In few, [114] the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane,
The juice of hebon, [115] and Cocytus' breath,
And all the poisons of the Stygian pool,
Break from the fiery kingdom, and in this
Vomit your venom, and envenom her
That, like a fiend, hath left her father thus!
[Footnote 114: In few: i.e. in a few words, in short.]
[Footnote 115: hebon: i.e. ebony, which was formerly supposed to be a
deadly poison.]
ITHAMORE.
What a blessing has he given't! was ever pot of
rice-porridge so sauced? [Aside].--What shall I do with it?
BARABAS.
O my sweet Ithamore, go set it down;
And come again so soon as thou hast done,
For I have other business for thee.
ITHAMORE.
Here's a drench to poison a whole stable of Flanders
mares: I'll carry't to the nuns with a powder.
BARABAS.
And the horse-pestilence to boot: away!
ITHAMORE.
I am gone:
Pay me my wages, for my work is done.
[Exit with the pot.]
BARABAS.
I'll pay thee with a vengeance, Ithamore!
[Exit.] _
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