BARABAS. So, now the fear is past, and I am safe; For he that shriv'd her is within my house: What, if I murder'd him ere Jacomo comes? Now I have such a plot for both their lives, As never Jew nor Christian knew the like: One turn'd my daughter, therefore he shall die; The other knows enough to have my life, Therefore 'tis not requisite he should live. [136] But are not both these wise men, to suppose That I will leave my house, my goods, and all, To fast and be well whipt? I'll none of that. Now, Friar Barnardine, I come to you: I'll feast you, lodge you, give you fair [137] words, And, after that, I and my trusty Turk-- No more, but so: it must and shall be done. [138] Enter ITHAMORE. Ithamore, tell me, is the friar asleep? ITHAMORE. Yes; and I know not what the reason is, Do what I can, he will not strip himself, Nor go to bed, but sleeps in his own clothes: I fear me he mistrusts what we intend. BARABAS. No; 'tis an order which the friars use: Yet, if he knew our meanings, could he scape? ITHAMORE. No, none can hear him, cry he ne'er so loud. BARABAS. Why, true; therefore did I place him there: The other chambers open towards the street. ITHAMORE. You loiter, master; wherefore stay we thus? O, how I long to see him shake his heels! BARABAS. Come on, sirrah: Off with your girdle; make a handsome noose.-- [ITHAMORE takes off his girdle, and ties a noose on it.] Friar, awake! [139] [They put the noose round the FRIAR'S neck.] FRIAR BARNARDINE. What, do you mean to strangle me? ITHAMORE. Yes, 'cause you use to confess. BARABAS. Blame not us, but the proverb,--Confess and be hanged.--Pull hard. FRIAR BARNARDINE. What, will you have [140] my life? BARABAS. Pull hard, I say.--You would have had my goods. ITHAMORE. Ay, and our lives too:--therefore pull amain. [They strangle the FRIAR.] 'Tis neatly done, sir; here's no print at all. BARABAS. Then is it as it should be. Take him up. ITHAMORE. Nay, master, be ruled by me a little. [Takes the body, sets it upright against the wall, and puts a staff in its hand.] So, let him lean upon his staff; excellent! he stands as if he were begging of bacon. BARABAS. Who would not think but that this friar liv'd? What time o' night is't now, sweet Ithamore? ITHAMORE. Towards one. [141] BARABAS. Then will not Jacomo be long from hence. [Exeunt.] Enter FRIAR JACOMO. [142]