_Bar._ For what, you men of Malta? hear me speak: She is a courtesan, and he a thief, And he my bondman. Let me have law, For none of this can prejudice my life. 40 _Gov._ Once more, away with him; you shall have law. _Bar._ Devils, do your worst, I live in spite of you. [_Aside._ As these have spoke, so be it to their souls!-- I hope the poisoned flowers will work anon. [_Aside._ [_Exeunt._ _Enter the_ Mother _of_ MATHIAS. _Mother._ Was my Mathias murdered by the Jew? Ferneze, 'twas thy son that murdered him. _Gov._ Be patient, gentle madam, it was he. He forged the daring challenge made them fight. _Mother._ Where is the Jew? where is that murderer? _Gov._ In prison till the law has past on him. 50 _Enter_ Officer. _Off._ My lord, the courtesan and her man are dead: So is the Turk and Barabas the Jew. _Gov._ Dead! _Off._ Dead, my lord, and here they bring his body. _Bosco._ This sudden death of his is very strange. _Re-enter_ Officers _carrying_ BARABAS _as dead._ _Gov._ Wonder not at it, sir, the heavens are just; Their deaths were like their lives, then think not of 'em; Since they are dead, let them be buried. For the Jew's body, throw that o'er the walls, To be a prey for vultures and wild beasts. 60 So now away, and fortify the town. [_Exeunt all, leaving_ BARABAS _on the floor._[141] _Bar._ [_Rising._] What, all alone? well fare, sleepy drink. I'll be revenged on this accursèd town; For by my means Calymath shall enter in. I'll help to slay their children and their wives, To fire the churches, pull their houses down, Take my goods too, and seize upon my lands: I hope to see the Governor a slave, And, rowing in a galley, whipt to death. _Enter_ CALYMATH, Bassoes, _and_ Turks. _Caly._ Whom have we here, a spy? 70 _Bar._ Yes, my good lord, one that can spy a place Where you may enter, and surprise the town: My name is Barabas: I am a Jew. _Caly._ Art thou that Jew whose goods we heard were sold For tribute-money? _Bar._ The very same, my lord: And since that time they have hired a slave, my man, To accuse me of a thousand villanies: I was imprisoned, but escaped their hands. _Caly._ Did'st break prison? 80 _Bar._ No, no; I drank of poppy and cold mandrake juice:[142] And being asleep, belike they thought me dead, And threw me o'er the walls: so, or how else, The Jew is here, and rests at your command. _Caly._ 'Twas bravely done: but tell me, Barabas, Canst thou, as thou report'st, make Malta ours?