The Works of Christopher Marlowe
The Jew of Malta
Act:
4
Scene:
2
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Pilia-borza, didst thou meet with Ithimore?
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And didst thou deliver my letter?
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And what think'st thou, will he come?
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Why so?
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And what said he?
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And where didst meet him?
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Is't not a sweet fac'd youth, Pilia?
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Though womans modesty should hale me backe, I can with-hold no longer; welcome sweet love.
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Whither so soone?
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Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus?
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What shall we doe with this base villaine then?
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Now, gentle Ithimore, lye in my lap.
Where are my Maids? provide a running Banquet;
Send to the Merchant, bid him bring me silkes,
Shall Ithimore my love goe in such rags?
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I have no husband, sweet, I'le marry thee.
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Whither will I not goe with gentle Ithimore?
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Tis not thy mony, but thy selfe I weigh: Thus Bellamira esteemes of gold;
[Throw it aside.]
But thus of thee
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Come my deare love, let's in and sleepe together.
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Come Amorous wag, first banquet and then sleep.
Act:
4
Scene:
4
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I'le pledge thee, love, and therefore drinke it off.
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Goe to, it shall be so.
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Nay, I'le have all or none.
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Love thee, fill me three glasses.
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Now to the Jew.
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I had not thought he had been so brave a man.
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You two alone?
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And fit it should: but first let's ha more gold.
[Aside to Pilia-borza.]
Come gentle Ithimore, lye in my lap.
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A French Musician, come let's heare your skill?
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Prethe, Pilia-borza, bid the Fidler give me the posey in his hat there.
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How sweet, my Ithimore, the flowers smell.
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Musician, hast beene in Malta long?
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Prethe sweet love, one more, and write it sharp.
