Why on the sudden is your colour chang'd? ABIGAIL. I know not:  but farewell; I must be gone. BARABAS. Stay her, but let her not speak one word more. LODOWICK. Mute o' the sudden! here's a sudden change. BARABAS. O, muse not at it; 'tis the Hebrews' guise, That maidens new-betroth'd should weep a while:      Trouble her not; sweet Lodowick, depart:      She is thy wife, and thou shalt be mine heir. LODOWICK. O, is't the custom? then I am resolv'd: 90 But rather let the brightsome heavens be dim, And nature's beauty choke with stifling clouds, Than my fair Abigail should frown on me.—      There comes the villain; now I'll be reveng'd.            Re-enter MATHIAS. BARABAS. Be quiet, Lodowick; it is enough That I have made thee sure to Abigail. LODOWICK. Well, let him go.           [Exit.]       BARABAS. Well, but for me, as you went in at doors You had been stabb'd:  but not a word on't now; Here must no speeches pass, nor swords be drawn. MATHIAS. Suffer me, Barabas, but to follow him. BARABAS. No; so shall I, if any hurt be done, Be made an accessary of your deeds:      Revenge it on him when you meet him next. MATHIAS. For this I'll have his heart. BARABAS. Do so. Lo, here I give thee Abigail! MATHIAS. What greater gift can poor Mathias have? Shall Lodowick rob me of so fair a love? My life is not so dear as Abigail. BARABAS. My heart misgives me, that, to cross your love, He's with your mother; therefore after him. MATHIAS. What, is he gone unto my mother? BARABAS. Nay, if you will, stay till she comes herself. MATHIAS. I cannot stay; for, if my mother come, She'll die with grief.           [Exit.]       ABIGAIL. I cannot take my leave of him for tears. Father, why have you thus incens'd them both? BARABAS. What's that to thee? ABIGAIL. I'll make 'em friends again. BARABAS. You'll make 'em friends! are there not Jews enow in Malta, But thou must dote upon a Christian?       ABIGAIL. I will have Don Mathias; he is my love. BARABAS. Yes, you shall have him.—Go, put her in. ITHAMORE. Ay, I'll put her in.           [Puts in ABIGAIL.]       BARABAS. Now tell me, Ithamore, how lik'st thou this? ITHAMORE. Faith, master, I think by this You purchase both their lives:  is it not so? BARABAS. True; and it shall be cunningly perform'd. ITHAMORE. O, master, that I might have a hand in this! BARABAS. Ay, so thou shalt; 'tis thou must do the deed:      Take this, and bear it to Mathias straight,           [Giving a letter.]      And tell him that it comes from Lodowick. ITHAMORE. 'Tis poison'd, is it not? BARABAS. No, no; 

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