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.
