though it wrought, it would have done no good, For every year they swell, and yet they live:      Now all are dead, not one remains alive. ITHAMORE. That's brave, master:  but think you it will not be known? BARABAS. How can it, if we two be secret? ITHAMORE. For my part, fear you not. BARABAS. I'd cut thy throat, if I did. ITHAMORE. And reason too. But here's a royal monastery hard by; Good master, let me poison all the monks. BARABAS. Thou shalt not need; for, now the nuns are dead, They'll die with grief. ITHAMORE. Do you not sorrow for your daughter's death? BARABAS. No, but I grieve because she liv'd so long,      An Hebrew born, and would become a Christian:      Cazzo, 127 diabolo! ITHAMORE. Look, look, master; here come two religious caterpillars. Enter FRIAR JACOMO and FRIAR BARNARDINE. BARABAS. I smelt 'em ere they came. ITHAMORE. God-a-mercy, nose! 128 Come, let's begone. FRIAR BARNARDINE. Stay, wicked Jew; repent, I say, and stay. FRIAR JACOMO. Thou hast offended, therefore must be damn'd. BARABAS. I fear they know we sent the poison'd broth. ITHAMORE. And so do I, master; therefore speak 'em fair. FRIAR BARNARDINE. Barabas, thou hast—       FRIAR JACOMO. Ay, that thou hast—       BARABAS. True, I have money; what though I have?       FRIAR BARNARDINE. Thou art a—       FRIAR JACOMO. Ay, that thou art, a—       BARABAS. What needs all this? I know I am a Jew. FRIAR BARNARDINE. Thy daughter—       FRIAR JACOMO. Ay, thy daughter—       BARABAS. O, speak not of her! then I die with grief. FRIAR BARNARDINE. Remember that—       FRIAR JACOMO. Ay, remember that—       BARABAS. I must needs say that I have been a great usurer. FRIAR BARNARDINE. Thou hast committed—       BARABAS. Fornication:  but that was in another country; And besides, the wench is dead. FRIAR BARNARDINE. Ay, but, Barabas, Remember Mathias and Don Lodowick. BARABAS. Why, what of them? FRIAR BARNARDINE. I will not say that by a forged challenge they met. BARABAS. She has confess'd, and we are both undone, My bosom inmate! 129 but I must dissemble.—           [Aside to ITHAMORE.]      O holy friars, the burden of my sins Lie heavy 130 on my soul! then, pray you, tell me, Is't not too late now to turn Christian? I have been zealous in the Jewish faith, Hard-hearted to the poor, a covetous wretch, That would for lucre's sake have sold my soul; A hundred for a hundred I have ta'en; And now for store of wealth may I compare With all the Jews in Malta:  but what is wealth? I am a Jew, and therefore am I lost. Would penance serve [to atone] 

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