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Here, hold that knife (throws down a knife), and when thou seest he comes,

And with his bassoes shall be blithely set,

A warning-piece shall be shot off from the tower,
To give thee knowledge when to cut the cord
And fire the house: say, will not this be brave?

Fern. O excellent! here, hold thee, Barabas,
I trust thy word, take what I promised thee.
Bar. No, governor, I'll satisfy thee first,
Thou shalt not live in doubt of anything.

40

Stand close, for here they come (FERNEZE retires). Why,

is not this

A kingly kind of trade to purchase towns

By treachery and sell 'em by deceit?

Now tell me, worldlings, underneath the sun

If greater falsehood ever has been done?

Enter CALYMATH and Bassoes.

Caly. Come, my companion bassoes; see, I pray, How busy Barabas is there above

To entertain us in his gallery ;

Let us salute him. Save thee, Barabas!

Bar. Welcome, great Calymath!

50

Fern. (aside). How the slave jeers at him.

Bar. Will't please thee, mighty Selim Calymath,

To ascend our homely stairs?

Caly. Ah, Barabas ;

Come, bassoes, ascend.

Fern. (coming forward). Stay, Calymath!

For I will show thee greater courtesy

Than Barabas would have afforded thee.

бо

Knight (within). Sound a charge there!

[A charge sounded within. FERNEZE cuts the cord: the floor of the gallery gives way, and BARABAS falls into a caldron.

Enter MARTIN DEL BOSCO and Knights.

Caly. How now! what means this?
Bar. Help, help me! Christians, help!

Fern. See, Calymath, this was devised for thee !
Caly. Treason! treason! bassoes, fly!
Fern. No, Selim, do not fly;

See his end first, and fly then if thou canst.

Bar. O help me, Selim! help me, Christians ! Governor, why stand you all so pitiless?

Fern. Should I in pity of thy plaints or thee, Accursed Barabas, base Jew, relent?

No, thus I'll see thy treachery repaid,

But wish thou hadst behaved thee otherwise.

Bar. You will not help me, then?

Fern. No, villain, no.

Bar. And, villains, know you cannot help me now. Then, Barabas, breathe forth thy latest hate,

And in the fury of thy torments strive

To end thy life with resolution.

Know, governor, 'twas I that slew thy son;

I framed the challenge that did make them meet:
Know, Calymath, I aimed thy overthrow,
And had I but escaped this stratagem,
I would have brought confusion on you all,
Damned Christian dogs! and Turkish infidels !
But now begins the extremity of heat

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To pinch me with intolerable pangs :

Die, life! fly, soul! tongue, curse thy fill, and die! [Dies.
Caly. Tell me, you Christians, what doth this portend?
Fern. This train1 he laid to have entrapped thy life;
Now, Selim, note the unhallowed deeds of Jews:

Thus he determined to have handled thee,

But I have rather chose to save thy life.

Caly. Was this the banquet he prepared for us? Let's hence, lest further mischief be pretended.2

Fern. Nay, Selim, stay; for since we have thee here, We will not let thee part so suddenly:

Besides, if we should let thee go, all's one,

For with thy galleys could'st thou not get hence,

Without fresh men to rig and furnish them.

Caly. Tush, governor, take thou no care for that,

My men are all aboard,

And do attend my coming there by this.

100

Fern. Why, heard'st thou not the trumpet sound a charge?

Caly. Yes, what of that?

Fern. Why then the house was fired,

Blown up, and all thy soldiers massacred.
Caly. O monstrous treason!

Fern. A Jew's courtesy:

For he that did by treason work our fall,
By treason hath delivered thee to us :

Know, therefore, till thy father hath made good
The ruins done to Malta and to us,

Thou canst not part; for Malta shall be freed,

Or Selim ne'er return to Ottoman.

Caly. Nay, rather, Christians, let me go to Turkey, In person there to meditate3 your peace;

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1 Stratagem.

2 Intended.

8 Query, mediate.

To keep me here will not advantage you.

Fern. Content thee, Calymath, here thou must stay, And live in Malta prisoner; for come all the world

To rescue thee, so will we guard us now,

As sooner shall they drink the ocean dry
Than conquer Malta, or endanger us.
So march away and let due praise be given
Neither to Fate nor Fortune, but to Heaven.

[Exeunt. 130

II.

THE ALCHEMIST.

BY BEN JONSON.

Produced in 1610; dedicated to Lady Mary Wroth, niece of

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