TheStationersRegister

The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Thou hast offended, therefore must be damn'd.

I, that thou hast—

I, that thou art a—

Oh good Barabas come to our house.

Oh Barabas, their Lawes are strict.

They weare no shirts, and they goe bare-foot too.

You heare your answer, and you may be gone.

I will not goe for thee.

How, cost call me rogue?

Why does he goe to thy house? let him begone.

But Barabas, who shall be your godfathers,

For presently you shall be shriv'd.

I warrant thee, Barabas.

This is the houre

Wherein I shall proceed; Oh happy houre,

Wherein I shall convert an Infidell,

And bring his gold into our treasury.

But soft, is not this Bernardine? it is;

And understanding I should come this way,

Stands here a purpose, meaning me some wrong,

And intercept my going to the Jew;

Bernardine —

Wilt thou not speake? thou think'st I see thee not;

Away, I'de wish thee, and let me goe by:

No, wilt thou not? nay then I'le force my way;

And see, a staffe stands ready for the purpose:

As thou lik'st that, stop me another time.

Why, stricken him that would have stroke at me.

Good sirs I have don't, but no body knowes it but you two, I may escape.

Good Barabas let me goe.

Villaines, I am a sacred person, touch me not.