BARABAS. O, heaven forbid I should have such a thought! Pardon me though I weep: the governor's son Will, whether I will or no, have Abigail; He sends her letters, bracelets, jewels, rings. MATHIAS. Does she receive them? BARABAS. She! no, Mathias, no, but sends them back; And, when he comes, she locks herself up fast; Yet through the key-hole will he talk to her, While she runs to the window, looking out When you should come and hale him from the door. MATHIAS. O treacherous Lodowick! BARABAS. Even now, as I came home, he slipt me in, And I am sure he is with Abigail. MATHIAS. I'll rouse him thence. BARABAS. Not for all Malta; therefore sheathe your sword; If you love me, no quarrels in my house; But steal you in, and seem to see him not: I'll give him such a warning ere he goes, As he shall have small hopes of Abigail. Away, for here they come. Re-enter LODOWICK and ABIGAIL. MATHIAS. What, hand in hand! I cannot suffer this. BARABAS. Mathias, as thou lov'st me, not a word. MATHIAS. Well, let it pass; another time shall serve. [Exit into the house.] LODOWICK. Barabas, is not that the widow's son? BARABAS. Ay, and take heed, for he hath sworn your death. LODOWICK. My death! what, is the base-born peasant mad? BARABAS. No, no; but happily [86] he stands in fear Of that which you, I think, ne'er dream upon,-- My daughter here, a paltry silly girl. LODOWICK. Why, loves she Don Mathias? BARABAS. Doth she not with her smiling answer you? ABIGAIL. He has my heart; I smile against my will. [Aside.] LODOWICK. Barabas, thou know'st I have lov'd thy daughter long. BARABAS. And so has she done you, even from a child. LODOWICK. And now I can no longer hold my mind. BARABAS. Nor I the affection that I bear to you. LODOWICK. This is thy diamond; tell me, shall I have it? BARABAS. Win it, and wear it; it is yet unsoil'd. [87] O, but I know your lordship would disdain To marry with the daughter of a Jew: And yet I'll give her many a golden cross [88] With Christian posies round about the ring. LODOWICK. 'Tis not thy wealth, but her that I esteem; Yet crave I thy consent. BARABAS. And mine you have; yet let me talk to her.-- This offspring of Cain, this Jebusite, That never tasted of the Passover, Nor e'er shall see the land of Canaan, Nor our Messias that is yet to come; This gentle maggot, Lodowick, I mean, Must be deluded: let him have thy hand, But keep thy heart till Don Mathias comes. [Aside to her.] ABIGAIL. What, shall I be betroth'd to Lodowick?