The Jew of Malta
coin; But he whose steel-barr'd coffers are cramm'd full, And all his life-time hath been tired, Wearying his fingers' ends with telling it, Would in his age be loath to labour so, And for a pound to sweat himself to death. Give me the merchants of the Indian mines, That trade in metal of the purest mould; The wealthy Moor, that in the eastern rocks Without control can pick his riches up, And in his house heap pearl like pebble-stones, Receive them free, and sell them by the weight; Bags of fiery opals, sapphires, amethysts, Jacinths, hard topaz, grass-green emeralds, Beauteous rubies, sparkling diamonds, And seld-seen 20 costly stones of so great price, As one of them, indifferently rated, And of a carat of this quantity, May serve, in peril of calamity, To ransom great kings from captivity. This is the ware wherein consists my wealth; And thus methinks should men of judgment frame Their means of traffic from the vulgar trade, And, as their wealth increaseth, so inclose Infinite riches in a little room. But now how stands the wind? Into what corner peers my halcyon's bill? 21 Ha! to the east? yes. See how stand the vanes—      East and by south:  why, then, I hope my ships I sent for Egypt and the bordering isles Are gotten up by Nilus' winding banks; Mine argosy from Alexandria, Loaden with spice and silks, now under sail, Are smoothly gliding down by Candy-shore To Malta, through our Mediterranean sea.—      But who comes here? Enter a MERCHANT. How now! MERCHANT. Barabas, thy ships are safe, Riding in Malta-road; and all the merchants With other merchandise are safe arriv'd, And have sent me to know whether yourself Will come and custom them. 22 BARABAS. The ships are safe thou say'st, and richly fraught? MERCHANT. They are. BARABAS. Why, then, go bid them come ashore, And bring with them their bills of entry:      I hope our credit in the custom-house Will serve as well as I were present there. Go send 'em threescore camels, thirty mules, And twenty waggons, to bring up the ware. But art thou master in a ship of mine, And is thy credit not enough for that? MERCHANT. The very custom barely comes to more Than many merchants of the town are worth, And therefore far exceeds my credit, sir. BARABAS. Go tell 'em the Jew of Malta sent thee, man:      Tush, who amongst 'em knows not Barabas? MERCHANT. I go. BARABAS. So, then, there's somewhat come.—      Sirrah, which of my ships art thou master of? MERCHANT. Of the Speranza, sir.     
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