ITHAMORE. Faith, master, In setting Christian villages on fire, Chaining of eunuchs, binding galley-slaves. One time I was an hostler in an inn, And in the night-time secretly would I steal To travellers' chambers, and there cut their throats: Once at Jerusalem, where the pilgrims kneel'd, I strewed powder on the marble stones, And therewithal their knees would rankle so, That I have laugh'd a-good [81] to see the cripples Go limping home to Christendom on stilts. BARABAS. Why, this is something: make account of me As of thy fellow; we are villains both; Both circumcised; we hate Christians both: Be true and secret; thou shalt want no gold. But stand aside; here comes Don Lodowick. Enter LODOWICK. [82] LODOWICK. O, Barabas, well met; Where is the diamond you told me of? BARABAS. I have it for you, sir: please you walk in with me.-- What, ho, Abigail! open the door, I say! Enter ABIGAIL, with letters. ABIGAIL. In good time, father; here are letters come ]From Ormus, and the post stays here within. BARABAS. Give me the letters.--Daughter, do you hear? Entertain Lodowick, the governor's son, With all the courtesy you can afford, Provided that you keep your maidenhead: Use him as if he were a Philistine; Dissemble, swear, protest, vow love to him: [83] He is not of the seed of Abraham.-- [Aside to her.] I am a little busy, sir; pray, pardon me.-- Abigail, bid him welcome for my sake. ABIGAIL. For your sake and his own he's welcome hither. BARABAS. Daughter, a word more: kiss him, speak him fair, And like a cunning Jew so cast about, That ye be both made sure [84] ere you come out. [Aside to her.] ABIGAIL. O father, Don Mathias is my love! BARABAS. I know it: yet, I say, make love to him; Do, it is requisite it should be so.-- [Aside to her.] Nay, on my life, it is my factor's hand; But go you in, I'll think upon the account. [Exeunt ABIGAIL and LODOWICK into the house.] The account is made, for Lodovico [85] dies. My factor sends me word a merchant's fled That owes me for a hundred tun of wine: I weigh it thus much[snapping his fingers]! I have wealth enough; For now by this has he kiss'd Abigail, And she vows love to him, and he to her. As sure as heaven rain'd manna for the Jews, So sure shall he and Don Mathias die: His father was my chiefest enemy. Enter MATHIAS. Whither goes Don Mathias? stay a while. MATHIAS. Whither, but to my fair love Abigail? BARABAS. Thou know'st, and heaven can witness it is true, That I intend my daughter shall be thine. MATHIAS. Ay, Barabas, or else thou wrong'st me much.