Bellamira, would I had my master's wealth for thy sake! PILIA-BORZA. And you can have it, sir, an if you please. ITHAMORE. If 'twere above ground, I could, and would have it; but he hides and buries it up, as partridges do their eggs, under the earth. PILIA-BORZA. And is't not possible to find it out? ITHAMORE. By no means possible. BELLAMIRA. What shall we do with this base villain, then?           [Aside to PILIA-BORZA.]       PILIA-BORZA. Let me alone; do but you speak him fair.—           [Aside to her.]      But you know 152 some secrets of the Jew, Which, if they were reveal'd, would do him harm. ITHAMORE. Ay, and such as—go to, no more! I'll make him 153 send me half he has, and glad he scapes so too:  I'll write unto him; we'll have money straight. PILIA-BORZA. Send for a hundred crowns at least. ITHAMORE. Ten hundred thousand crowns.—[writing] MASTER BARABAS,—       PILIA-BORZA. Write not so submissively, but threatening him. ITHAMORE. [writing] SIRRAH BARABAS, SEND ME A HUNDRED CROWNS. PILIA-BORZA. Put in two hundred at least. ITHAMORE. [writing] I CHARGE THEE SEND ME THREE HUNDRED BY THIS BEARER, AND THIS SHALL BE YOUR WARRANT:  IF YOU DO NOT—NO MORE, BUT SO. PILIA-BORZA. Tell him you will confess. ITHAMORE. [writing] OTHERWISE I'LL CONFESS ALL.—      Vanish, and return in a twinkle. PILIA-BORZA. Let me alone; I'll use him in his kind. ITHAMORE. Hang him, Jew!           [Exit PILIA-BORZA with the letter.]       BELLAMIRA. Now, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap.—      Where are my maids? provide a cunning 154 banquet; Send to the merchant, bid him bring me silks; Shall Ithamore, my love, go in such rags? ITHAMORE. And bid the jeweller come hither too. BELLAMIRA. I have no husband; sweet, I'll marry thee. ITHAMORE. Content:  but we will leave this paltry land, And sail from hence to Greece, to lovely Greece;—      I'll be thy Jason, thou my golden fleece;—      Where painted carpets o'er the meads are hurl'd, And Bacchus' vineyards overspread the world; Where woods and forests go in goodly green;—      I'll be Adonis, thou shalt be Love's Queen;—      The meads, the orchards, and the primrose-lanes, Instead of sedge and reed, bear sugar-canes:      Thou in those groves, by Dis above, Shalt live with me, and be my love. 155 BELLAMIRA. Whither will I not go with gentle Ithamore? Re-enter PILIA-BORZA. ITHAMORE. How now! hast thou the gold [?]       PILIA-BORZA. Yes. ITHAMORE. But came it freely? did the cow give down her milk freely? PILIA-BORZA. At reading of the letter, he stared and stamped, and turned aside:  I took him 

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