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The Works of Christopher Marlowe

The Jew of Malta

Act: 3 Scene: 3

Why, how now Ithimore, why laugh'st thou so?

Why what ayl'st thou?

Ha.

Say, knave, why rail'st upon my father thus?

Wherein?

Why, no.

No, what was it?

And was my father furtherer of their deaths?

Yes.

Well, Ithimore, let me request thee this,

Goe to the new made Nunnery, and inquire

For any of the Fryars of Saint Jaques ,

And say, I pray them come and speake with me.

Well, sirra, what is't?

Go to, sirra sauce, is this your question? get ye gon.

Hard-hearted Father, unkind Barabas,

Was this the pursuit of thy policie?

To make me shew them favour severally,

That by my favour they should both be slaine?

Admit thou lov'dst not Lodowicke for his sire,

Yet Don Mathias ne're offended thee:

But thou wert set upon extreme revenge,

Because the Pryor dispossess thee once,

And couldst not venge it, but upon his sonne,

Nor on his sonne, but by Mathias meanes;

Nor on Mathias, but by murdering me.

But I perceive there is no love on earth,

Pitty in Jewes, nor piety in Turkes.

But here comes cursed Ithimore with the Fryar.

Welcome grave Fryar; Ithamore begon,

[Exit Ithimore]

Know, holy Sir, I am bold to sollicite thee.

To get me be admitted for a Nun.

Then were my thoughts so fraile and unconfirm'd,

And I was chain'd to follies of the world:

But now experience, purchased with griefe,

Has made me see the difference of things.

My sinfull soule, alas, hath pac'd too long

The fatall Labyrinth of misbeleefe,

Farre from the Sonne that gives eternall life.

The Abbasse of the house

Whose zealous admonition I embrace:

Oh therefore, Jacomo , let me be one,

Although unworthy of that Sister-hood.

That was my father's fault.

Nay, you shall pardon me: oh Barabas,

[Aside.]

Though thou deservest hardly at my hands,

Yet never shall these lips bewray thy life.

My duty waits on you.

Act: 3 Scene: 6

And I shall dye too, for I feele death comming.

Where is the Fryar that converst with me?

I sent for him, but seeing you are come

Be you my ghostly father; and first know,

That in this house I liv'd religiously,

Chast, and devout, much sorrowing for my sinnes,

But e're I came—

I did offend high heaven so grievously,

As I am almost desperate for my sinnes:

And one offence torments me more then all.

You knew Mathias and Don Lodowicke?

My father did contract me to 'em both:

First to Don Lodowicke, him I never lov'd;

Mathias was the man that I held deare,

And for his sake did I become a Nunne.

Both jealous of my love, envied each other:

And by my father's practice, which is there

Set downe at large, the Gallants were both slaine.

To worke my peace, this I confesse to thee;

Reveale it not, for then my father dyes.

So I have heard; pray therefore keepe it close.

Death seizeth on my heart: ah gentle Fryar,

Convert my father that he may be sav'd,

And witnesse that I dye a Christian.