The Jew of Malta.
Goe buy thee garments: but thou shalt not want:
Onely know this, that thus thou art to doe:
But first goe fetch me in the pot of Rice
That for our supper stands upon the fire.
Ith.
I hold my head my master's hungry: I goe Sir. Exit.
Bar.
Thus every villaine ambles after wealth
Although he ne're be richer then in hope:
But hush't.
Enter Ithimore with the pot.
Ith.
Here 'tis, Master.
Bar.
Well said, Ithimore; what hast thou brought
The Ladle with thee too?
Ith.
Yes, Sir, the proverb saies, he that eats with the devil
Had need of a long spoone, I have brought you a Ladle.
Bar.
Very well, Ithimore, then now be secret;
And for thy sake, whom I so dearely love,
Now shalt thou see the death of Abigall,
That thou mayst freely live to be my heire.
Ith.
Why, master, wil you poison her with a messe of rice
Porredge that wil preserve life, make her round & plump,
And batten more then you are aware.
Bar.
I but Ithimore seest thou this?
It is a precious powder that I bought
Of an Italian in Ancona once,
Whose operation is to binde, infect,
And poyson deeply: yet not appeare
In forty houres after it is tane.
Ith.
How master?
Bar.
Thus Ithimore:
This Even they use in Malta here ('tis call'd
Saint Jagues Even) and then I say they use
To send their Almes unto the Nunneries:
Among the rest beare this, and set it there;
There's a darke entry where they take it in,
Where they must neither see the messenger,
Nor make enquiry who hath sent it them.
Ith.
