The Complete Plays (42 page)

FERNEZE

Nay, madam, stay. That weapon was my son's,

And on that rather should Ferneze die.

KATHERINE

Hold. Let's inquire the causers of their deaths,

That we may venge their blood upon their heads.

FERNEZE

Then take them up, and let them be interred

30   Within one sacred monument of stone,

Upon which altar I will offer up

My daily sacrifice of sighs and tears,

And with my prayers pierce impartial heavens,

Till they
reveal
the causers of our smarts,

Which forced their hands divide united hearts.

Come, Katherine, our losses equal are,

Then of true grief let us take equal share.

Exeunt
[
with the bodies
].

Enter
ITHAMORE.

ITHAMORE

Why, was there ever seen such villainy,

So neatly plotted and so well performed?

Both
held in hand
, and
flatly
both beguiled?

Enter
ABIGALL
.

ABIGALL
Why, how now, Ithamore, why laugh'st thou so?

ITHAMORE
O mistress, ha, ha, ha!

ABIGALL
Why, what ail'st thou?

ITHAMORE
O, my master!

ABIGALL
Ha!

ITHAMORE
O mistress, I have the bravest, gravest, secret, subtle,

10      
bottle-nosed
knave
to
my master that ever gentleman had.

ABIGALL
Say, knave, why rail'st upon my father thus?

ITHAMORE
O, my master has the bravest policy.

ABIGALL
Wherein?

ITHAMORE
Why, know you not?

ABIGALL
Why, no.

ITHAMORE
Know you not of Mathias' and Don Lodowick's disaster?

ABIGALL
No, what was it?

ITHAMORE
Why, the devil invented a challenge, my master

20   writ it, and I carried it, first to Lodowick and
imprimis
to Mathias.

And then
they met,
and
, as the story says,

In doleful wise they ended both their days.

ABIGALL
And was my father furtherer of their deaths?

ITHAMORE Am I Ithamore?

ABIGALL
Yes.

ITHAMORE
So sure did your father write, and I carry, the challenge.

ABIGALL

Well, Ithamore, let me request thee this:

30   Go to the new-made nunnery, and inquire

For any of the friars of
Saint Jacques
,

And say I pray them come and speak with me.

ITHAMORE
I pray, mistress, will you answer me to one question?

ABIGALL
Well, sirrah, what is't?

ITHAMORE
A very
feeling
one: have not the nuns fine
sport
with the friars now and then?

ABIGALL
Go to,
sirrah sauce
, is this your question? Get ye gone.

ITHAMORE
I will forsooth, mistress.

Exit
[ITHAMORE].

ABIGALL

Hard-hearted father, unkind Barabas,

40   Was this the pursuit of thy policy,

To make me show them favour severally,

That by my favour they should both be slain?

Admit thou loved'st not Lodowick for his
sire
,

Yet Don Mathias ne'er offended thee.

But thou wert set upon extreme revenge,

Because the prior dispossessed thee once,

And couldst not venge it but upon his son,

Nor on his son but by Mathias' means,

Nor on Mathias but by murdering me.

50   But I perceive there is no love on earth,

Pity in Jews, nor piety in Turks.

But here comes cursèd Ithamore with the friar.

Enter
ITHAMORE
[
and
]
FRIAR
[
JACOMO
].

FRIAR JACOMO
Virgo, salve!

ITHAMORE
When, duck you?

ABIGALL

Welcome, grave friar. Ithamore, begone.

Exit
[ITHAMORE].

Know, holy sir, I am bold to solicit thee.

FRIAR JACOMO
Wherein?

ABIGALL

To get me be admitted for a nun.

FRIAR JACOMO

Why, Abigall, it is not yet long since

60   That I did labour thy admission,

And then thou didst not like that holy life.

ABIGALL

Then were my thoughts so frail and unconfirmed,

And I was chained to follies of the world;

But now experience, purchasèd with grief,

Has made me see the difference of things.

My sinful soul, alas, hath paced too long

The fatal labyrinth of misbelief,

Far from the
Son
that gives eternal life.

FRIAR JACOMO

Who taught thee this?

ABIGALL
                  The abbess of the house,

70   Whose zealous admonition I embrace.

O therefore, Jacomo, let me be one,

Although unworthy, of that sisterhood.

FRIAR JACOMO

Abigall, I will, but see thou change no more,

For that will be most
heavy
to thy soul.

ABIGALL

That was my father's fault.

FRIAR JACOMO
                     Thy father's? How?

ABIGALL

Nay, you shall pardon me. [
Aside
] O Barabas,

Though thou deservest hardly at my hands,

Yet never shall these lips bewray thy life.

FRIAR JACOMO

Come, shall we go?

ABIGALL
                     My duty waits on you.

Exeunt.

Enter
BARABAS,
reading a letter.

BARABAS

What, Abigall 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?
Spurcal
What
pretendeth
this?

I fear she knows ('tis so) of my device

In Don Mathias' and Lodovico's deaths.

If so, 'tis time it be seen into,

10   For she that varies from me in belief

Gives great presumption that she loves me not,

Or, loving, doth dislike of something done.

[
Enter
ITHAMORE.]

But who comes here? O Ithamore, come near.

Come near, my love, come near, thy master's life,

My trusty servant, nay, my second
self
!

For I have now no hope but even in thee,

And on that hope my happiness is built.

When saw'st thou Abigall?

ITHAMORE
Today.

BARABAS
With whom?

20   

ITHAMORE
A friar.

BARABAS
A friar? False villain, he hath done the deed.

ITHAMORE HOW,
sir?

BARABAS
Why, made mine Abigall a nun.

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

BARABAS

O, unhappy day!

False, credulous, inconstant Abigall!

But let 'em go; and Ithamore, from hence

Ne'er shall she grieve me more with her disgrace;

30   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.

ITHAMORE
O, master!

BARABAS

Ithamore, entreat not for her, I am moved,

And she is hateful to my soul and me.

And
'less
thou yield to this that I entreat,

I cannot think but that thou hat'st my life.

ITHAMORE
Who, I, master? Why, I'll run to some rock and

40   

throw myself headlong into the sea. Why, I'll do anything 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

50   That for our supper stands upon the fire.

ITHAMORE
[
aside
] I
hold
my head my master's hungry.

[
To him
] I go, sir.

Exit
[ITHAMORE].

BARABAS

Thus every villain ambles after wealth,

Although he ne'er be richer than in hope.

But
husht
.

Enter
ITHAMORE
with the pot.

ITHAMORE
Here 'tis, master.

BARABAS
Well said, Ithamore.

What, hast thou brought the ladle with thee too?

ITHAMORE
Yes, sir;
the proverb
says, he that eats with the devil

60   

had need of a long spoon. I have brought you a ladle.

BARABAS

Very well, Ithamore, then now be secret,

And for thy sake, whom I so dearly love,

Now shalt thou see the death of Abigall,

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 more than you are aware.

BARABAS

Ay, but Ithamore, seest thou this?

[
He shows a poison
.]

It is a precious powder that I bought

70   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 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.

80   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
.

Stay, let me spice it first.

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

90   

should be spoiled.

BARABAS
[
adding poison
]

Peace, Ithamore,
'tis better
so than spared.

Assure thyself thou shalt have broth
by the eye
.

My purse, my coffer, and myself is thine.

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
,

100   Whereof his sire, the Pope, was poisonèd!

In few
, the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane,

The juice of hebon, 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!

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

BARABAS

O my sweet Ithamore, go set it down,

110   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
[ITHAMORE,
with the pot
].

BARABAS

I'll pay thee with a vengeance, Ithamore.

Exit.

Enter
FERNEZE, [MARTIN DEL] BOSCO, KNIGHTS,
[
and
CALLAPINE,
the
]
bashaw
[
with his train
].

FERNEZE