Page:The Jew of Malta - Marlowe (1633).pdf/39

 Having Fernezes hand, whose heart I'le have; I, and his sonnes too, or it shall goe hard. I am not of the Tribe of Levy, I, That can so soone forget an injury. We Jewes can fawne like Spaniels when we please; And when we grin we bite, yet are our lookes As innocent audand [sic] harmelesse as a Lambes. I learn'd in Florence how to kisse my hand, Heave up my shoulders when they call me dogge, And ducke as low as any bare-foot Fryar, Hoping to see them starve upon a stall, Or else be gather'd for in our Synagogue; That when the offering-Bason comes to me, Even for charity I may spit intoo't. Here comes Don Lodowicke the Governor's sonne, One that I love for his good fathers sake.

Lod. I heare the wealthy Jew walked this way; I'le seeke him out, and so insinuate, That I may have a sight of Abigall; For Don Mathias tels me she is faire.

Bar. Now will I shew my selfe to have more of the Serpent Then the Dove; that is, more knave than foole.

Lod. Yond walks the Jew, now for faire Abigall.

Bar. I, I, no doubt but shee's at your command.

Lod. Barabas, thou know'st I am the Governors sonne.

Bar. I wud you were his father too, Sir, that's al the harm I wish you: the slave looks like a hogs cheek new sindg'd.

Lod. Whither walk'st thou Barabas?

Bar. No further: 'tis a custome held with us, That when we speake with Gentiles like to you, We turne into the Ayre to purge our selves: For unto us the Promise doth belong.

Lod. Well, Barabas, canst helpe me to a Diamond?

Bar. Oh, Sir, your father had my Diamonds. Yet I have one left that will serve your turne: I meane my daughter:but e're he shall have her