Page:The Jew of Malta - Marlowe (1633).pdf/50

 Onely this, and runne my way: but here's the Jews man.

Curt. Hide the bagge.

Pilia. Looke not towards him, let's away: Zoon's, what a looking thou keep'st, Thou'lt betraye's anon.

Ith. Oh the sweetest face that ever I beheld! I know she is A Curtezan by her attire: now would I give a hundred Of the Jewes Crownes that I had such a Concubine. Well, I have deliver'ed the challenge in such sort, As meet they will, and fighting dye; brave sport.

Math. This is the place, now Abigall shall see Whether Mathias holds her deare or no.

Math. What, dares the villain write in such base terms?

Lod. I did it, and revenge it if thou dar'st.

Bar. Oh bravely fought; and yet they thrust not home. Now Lodowicke, now Mathias, so; So now they have shew'd themselves to be tal1 fellowes.

Within. Part 'em, part 'em.

Bar. I, part 'em now they are dead: Farewell, farewell.

Gov. What sight is this? my Lodowicke slaine! These armes of mine shall be thy Sepulchre.

Mater. Who is this? my sonne Mathias slaine!

Gov. Oh Lodowicke! had'st thou perish'd by the Turke, Wretched Ferneze might have veng'd thy death.

Mater. Thy sonne slew mine, and I'le revenge his death.

Gov. Looke, Katherin, looke, thy sonne gave mine these wounds.

Mat. Oh leave to grive me, I am griev'd enough.

Gov. Oh that my sighs could turne to lively breath; And these my teares to blood, that he might live.

Mater. Who made them enemies?