_Itha._ [_Writing._] _Sirrah, Jew, as you love your life send me five hundred crowns, and give the bearer one hundred._ Tell him I must have 't. _Pilia._ I warrant your worship shall have 't. _Itha._ And if he ask why I demand so much, tell him I scorn to write a line under a hundred crowns. 130 _Pilia._ You'd make a rich poet, sir. I am gone. [_Exit._ _Itha._ Take thou the money; spend it for my sake. _Bell._ 'Tis not thy money, but thyself I weigh: Thus Bellamira esteems of gold. [_Throws it on the floor._ But thus of thee. [_Kisses him._ _Itha._ That kiss again; she runs division[126] of my lips. What an eye she casts on me? It twinkles like a star. _Bell._ Come, my dear love, let's in and sleep together. _Itha._ O, that ten thousand nights were put in one, that we might sleep seven years together afore we wake. _Bell._ Come, amorous wag, first banquet, and then sleep. 141 [_Exeunt._ SCENE V. _Enter_[127] BARABAS, _reading a letter._ _Bar._ "Barabas, send me three hundred crowns." Plain Barabas: O, that wicked courtesan! He was not wont to call me Barabas. "Or else I will confess:" I, there it goes: But if I get him, _coupe de gorge_, for that. He sent a shaggy tottered[128] staring slave, That when he speaks draws out his grisly beard, And winds it twice or thrice about his ear;[129] Whose face has been a grindstone for men's swords; His hands are hacked, some fingers cut quite off; 10 Who, when he speaks, grunts like a hog, and looks Like one that is employed in catzerie[130] And crossbiting,[131]--such a rogue As is the husband to a hundred whores: And I by him must send three hundred crowns! Well, my hope is, he will not stay there still; And when he comes: O, that he were but here! _Enter_ PILIA-BORSA. _Pilia._ Jew, I must have more gold. _Bar._ Why, want'st thou any of thy tale? _Pilia._ No; but three hundred will not serve his turn. 20 _Bar._ Not serve his turn, sir? _Pilia._ No, sir; and, therefore, I must have five hundred more. _Bar._ I'll rather---- _Pilia._ O good words, sir, and send it you were best; see, there's his letter. [_Gives letter._ _Bar._ Might he not as well come as send; pray bid him come and fetch it; what he writes for you, ye shall have straight. _Pilia._ I, and the rest too, or else---- 30 _Bar._ I must make this villain away. [_Aside._ Please you dine with me, sir;--and you shall be most heartily poisoned. [_Aside._ _Pilia._ No, God-a-mercy. Shall I have these crowns? _Bar._ I cannot do it, I have lost my keys. _Pilia._ O, if that be all, I can pick ope your locks.