it? ITHAMORE. Why, the devil inverted a challenge, my master writ it, and I carried it, first to Lodowick, and imprimis to Mathia[s]; And then they met, [and], as the story says, In doleful wise they ended both their days. ABIGAIL. And was my father furtherer of their deaths? ITHAMORE. Am I Ithamore? ABIGAIL. Yes. ITHAMORE. So sure did your father write, and I carry the challenge. ABIGAIL. Well, Ithamore, let me request thee this; Go to the new-made nunnery, and inquire For any of the friars of Saint Jaques, 102 And say, I pray them come and speak with me. ITHAMORE. I pray, mistress, will you answer me to one question? ABIGAIL. Well, sirrah, what is't? ITHAMORE. A very feeling one:  have not the nuns fine sport with the friars now and then? ABIGAIL. Go to, Sirrah Sauce! is this your question? get ye gone. ITHAMORE. I will, forsooth, mistress.           [Exit.]       ABIGAIL. Hard-hearted father, unkind Barabas! Was this the pursuit of thy policy, To make me shew them favour severally, That by my favour they should both be slain? Admit thou lov'dst not Lodowick for his sire, 103 Yet Don Mathias ne'er offended thee:      But thou wert set upon extreme revenge, Because the prior dispossess'd thee once, And couldst not venge it but upon his son; Nor on his son but by Mathias' means; Nor on Mathias but by murdering me:      But I perceive there is no love on earth, Pity in Jews, nor piety in Turks.—      But here comes cursed Ithamore with the friar. Re-enter ITHAMORE with FRIAR JACOMO. FRIAR JACOMO. Virgo, salve. ITHAMORE. When duck you? ABIGAIL. Welcome, grave friar.—Ithamore, be gone.           [Exit ITHAMORE.]      Know, holy sir, I am bold to solicit thee. FRIAR JACOMO. Wherein? ABIGAIL. To get me be admitted for a nun. FRIAR JACOMO. Why, Abigail, it is not yet long since That I did labour thy admission, And then thou didst not like that holy life.       ABIGAIL. Then were my thoughts so frail and unconfirm'd As 104 I was chain'd to follies of the world:      But now experience, purchased with grief, Has made me see the difference of things. My sinful soul, alas, hath pac'd too long The fatal labyrinth of misbelief, Far from the sun that gives eternal life! FRIAR JACOMO. Who taught thee this? ABIGAIL. The abbess of the house, Whose zealous admonition I embrace:      O, therefore, Jacomo, let me be one, Although unworthy, of that sisterhood! FRIAR JACOMO. Abigail, I will:  but see thou change no more, For that will be most heavy to thy soul. ABIGAIL. That was my father's 

 Prev. P 27/75 next