The Jew of Malta.
Nor our Messias that is yet to come, aside.
This gentle Magot Lodowicke I meane,
Must be deluded: let him have thy hand,
But keepe thy heart till Don Mathias comes.
Abig.
What shall I be betroth'd to Lodowicke?
Bar.
It's no sinne to deceive a Christian;
For they themselves hold it a principle,
Faith is not to be held with Heretickes;
But all are Hereticks that are not Jewes;
This followes well, and therefore daughter feare not.
I have intreated her, and she will grant.
Lod.
Then gentle Abigal plight thy faith to me.
Abig.
I cannot chuse, seeing my father bids:
Nothing but death shall part my love and me.
Lod.
Now have I that for which my soule hath long'd.
Bar.
So have not I, but yet I hope I shall. aside.
Abig.
Oh wretched Abigal, what hast thee done?
Lod.
Why on the sudden is your colour chang'd?
Abig.
I know not, but farewell, I must be gone.
Bar.
Stay her, but let her not speake one word more.
Lod.
Mute a the sudden; here's a sudden change.
Bar.
Oh muse not at it, 'tis the Hebrewes guize,
That maidens new betroth'd should weepe a while:
Trouble her not, sweet Lodowicke depart:
Shee is thy wife, and thou shalt be mine heire.
Lod.
Oh, is't the custome, then I am resolv'd:
But rathe let the brightsome heavens be dim,
And Natures beauty choake with stifeling clouds,
Then my faire Abigal should frowne on me.
There comes the villaine, now I'le be reveng'd.
Enter Mathias.
Bar.
Be quiet Lodowicke, it is enough
That I have made thee sure to Abigal.
Lod.
Well, let him goe. Exit.
Bar.
Well, but for me, as you went in at dores
You had bin stab'd, but not a word on't now;
Here must no speeches passe, nor swords be drawne.
Math.
