The Jew of Malta
fortify the town. Exeunt all, leaving BARABAS on the floor. 181 BARABAS. [rising] What, all alone! well fare, sleepy drink! I'll be reveng'd on this accursed town; For by my means Calymath shall enter in:      I'll help to slay their children and their wives, To fire the churches, pull their houses down, Take my goods too, and seize upon my lands. I hope to see the governor a slave, And, rowing in a galley, whipt to death. Enter CALYMATH, BASSOES, 182 and TURKS. CALYMATH. Whom have we there? a spy? BARABAS. Yes, my good lord, one that can spy a place Where you may enter, and surprize the town:      My name is Barabas; I am a Jew. CALYMATH. Art thou that Jew whose goods we heard were sold For tribute-money? BARABAS. The very same, my lord:      And since that time they have hir'd a slave, my man, To accuse me of a thousand villanies:      I was imprisoned, but scap [']d their hands. CALYMATH. Didst break prison? BARABAS. No, no:      I drank of poppy and cold mandrake juice; And being asleep, belike they thought me dead, And threw me o'er the walls:  so, or how else, The Jew is here, and rests at your command. CALYMATH. 'Twas bravely done:  but tell me, Barabas, Canst thou, as thou report'st, make Malta ours? BARABAS. Fear not, my lord; for here, against the trench, 183 The rock is hollow, and of purpose digg'd, To make a passage for the running streams And common channels 184 of the city. Now, whilst you give assault unto the walls, I'll lead five hundred soldiers through the vault, And rise with them i' the middle of the town, Open the gates for you to enter in; And by this means the city is your own. CALYMATH. If this be true, I'll make thee governor. BARABAS. And, if it be not true, then let me die. CALYMATH. Thou'st doom'd thyself.—Assault it presently.           [Exeunt.]            Alarums within. Enter CALYMATH, 185 BASSOES, TURKS, and BARABAS; with FERNEZE and KNIGHTS prisoners. CALYMATH. Now vail 186 your pride, you captive Christians, And kneel for mercy to your conquering foe:      Now where's the hope you had of haughty Spain? Ferneze, speak; had it not been much better To kept 187 thy promise than be thus surpris'd? FERNEZE. What should I say? we are captives, and must yield. CALYMATH. Ay, villains, you must yield, and under Turkish yokes Shall groaning bear the burden of our ire:—      And, Barabas, as erst we promis'd thee, For thy desert we make thee governor; Use them at thy discretion. BARABAS. Thanks, my lord. FERNEZE. O fatal day, to fall into the hands Of such 
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