The Jew of Malta.
Gave me a letter from one Madam Bellamira,
Saluting me in such sort as if he had meant to make
Cleane my Boots with his lips; the effect was, that
I should come to her house, I wonder what the reason is;
It may be she sees more in me than I can find in
My selfe: for she writes further, that she loves me
Ever since she saw me, and who would not requite such
Love? here's her house, and here she comes, and now
Would I were gone, I am not worthy to looke upon her.
Pilia.
This is the Gentleman you writ to.
Ith.
Gentleman, he flouts me, what gentry can be in a
Poore Turke of ten pence? I'le be gone.
Curt.
Is't not a sweet fac'd youth, Pilia?
Ith.
Agen, sweet youth; did not you, Sir, bring the sweet
Youth a letter?
Pilia.
I did Sir, and from this Gentlewoman, who as my
Selfe, & the rest of the family, stand or fall at your service.
Curt.
Though womans modesty should hale me backe,
I can with-hold no longer; welcome sweet love.
Ith.
Now am I cleane, or rather fouly out of the way.
Curt.
Whither so soone?
Ith.
I'le goe steale some mony from my Master to
Make me hansome:
Pray pardon me, I must goe see a ship discharg'd.
Curt.
Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus?
Pilia.
And ye did but know how she loves you, Sir.
Ith.
Nay, I care not how much she loves me;
Sweet Allamira, would I had my Masters wealth for thy sake:
Pilia.
And you can have it, Sir, and if you please.
Ith.
If 'twere above ground I could, and would have it;
But hee hides and buries it up as Partridges doe
Their egges, under the earth.
Pil.
And is't not possible to find it out?
Ith.
By no meanes possible.
Curt.
What shall we doe with this base villaine then?
Pil.
Let me alone, doe but you speake him faire:
But
