Don Lodowick Character Analysis

In spite of these swine-eating Christians,
Unchosen nation, never circumcised;
Such as, poor villains, were ne’er thought upon
Till Titus and Vespasian conquered us,
Am I become as wealthy as I was:
They hoped my daughter would ha’ been a nun:
But she’s at home, and I have bought a house
As great and fair as is the Governor’s;
And there in spite of Malta will I dwell:
Having Ferneze’s hand, whose heart I’ll have;
Ay, and his son’s too, or it shall go hard.

Barabas: Oh, sir, your father had my diamonds.
Yet I have one left that will serve your turn:
I mean my daughter. (But ere he shall have her
I’ll sacrifice her on a pile of wood.
I ha’ the poison of the city for him,
And the white leprosy.)

Lodowick: What sparkle does it give without a foil?

Barabas: The diamond that I talk of, ne’er was foiled
(But when he touches it, it will be foiled).
Lord Lodowick, it sparkles bright and fair.

Lodowick: Is it square or pointed? Pray let me know.

Barabas: Pointed it is, good sir (but not for you).

Barabas: Good sir,
Your father has deserved it at my hands,
Who of mere charity and Christian ruth,
To bring me to religious purity,
And as it were in catechizing sort,
To make me mindful of my mortal sins,
Against my will, and whether I would or no,
Seized all I had, and thrust me out-a-doors,
And made my house a place for nuns most chaste.

Lodowick: No doubt your soul shall reap the fruit of it.

Barabas: Ay, but my lord, the harvest is far off:
And yet I know the prayers of those nuns
And holy friars, having money for their pains,
And wondrous; (and indeed do no man good)
And seeing they are not idle, but still doing,
‘Tis likely they in time may reap some fruit,
I mean in fullness of perfection.

Yonder comes Don Mathias, let us stay;
He loves my daughter, and she holds him dear:
But I have sworn to frustrate both their hopes,
And be revenged upon the—(Governor).

Oh bravely fought, and yet they thrust not home.
Now Lodowick, now Mathias, so;
So now they have showed themselves to be tall fellows.

Ithamore: Oh mistress! I have the bravest, gravest, secret, subtle, bottle-nosed knave to my master, that ever gentleman had.

Abigail: Say, knave, why rail’st upon my father thus?

Ithamore: Oh, my master has the bravest policy.

Stay, first let me stir it Ithamore.
As fatal be it to her as the draught
Of which great Alexander drunk, and died:
And with her let it work like Borgia’s wine,
Whereof his sire, the Pope, was poisonèd.
In a few, the blood of Hydra, Lerna’s bane:
The juice of hebon, and Cocytus’ breath,
And all the poisons of the Stygian pool
Break from the fiery kingdom; and in this
Vomit your venom, and envenom her
That like a fiend hat left her father thus.

Ferneze: Should I in pity of thy plaints or thee,
Accursèd Barabas, base Jew, relent?
No, thus I’ll see thy treachery repaid,
But wish thou hadst behaved thee otherwise.

Barabas: You will not help me then?

Ferneze: No, villain, no.

Barabas: And villains, know you cannot help me now.
Then Barabas breathe forth thy latest fate,
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 Christians, dogs, and Turkish infidels;
But now begins the extremity of heat
To pinch me with intolerable pangs:
Die life, fly soul, tongue curse thy fill and die!

In spite of these swine-eating Christians,
Unchosen nation, never circumcised;
Such as, poor villains, were ne’er thought upon
Till Titus and Vespasian conquered us,
Am I become as wealthy as I was:
They hoped my daughter would ha’ been a nun:
But she’s at home, and I have bought a house
As great and fair as is the Governor’s;
And there in spite of Malta will I dwell:
Having Ferneze’s hand, whose heart I’ll have;
Ay, and his son’s too, or it shall go hard.

Barabas: Oh, sir, your father had my diamonds.
Yet I have one left that will serve your turn:
I mean my daughter. (But ere he shall have her
I’ll sacrifice her on a pile of wood.
I ha’ the poison of the city for him,
And the white leprosy.)

Lodowick: What sparkle does it give without a foil?

Barabas: The diamond that I talk of, ne’er was foiled
(But when he touches it, it will be foiled).
Lord Lodowick, it sparkles bright and fair.

Lodowick: Is it square or pointed? Pray let me know.

Barabas: Pointed it is, good sir (but not for you).

Barabas: Good sir,
Your father has deserved it at my hands,
Who of mere charity and Christian ruth,
To bring me to religious purity,
And as it were in catechizing sort,
To make me mindful of my mortal sins,
Against my will, and whether I would or no,
Seized all I had, and thrust me out-a-doors,
And made my house a place for nuns most chaste.

Lodowick: No doubt your soul shall reap the fruit of it.

Barabas: Ay, but my lord, the harvest is far off:
And yet I know the prayers of those nuns
And holy friars, having money for their pains,
And wondrous; (and indeed do no man good)
And seeing they are not idle, but still doing,
‘Tis likely they in time may reap some fruit,
I mean in fullness of perfection.

Yonder comes Don Mathias, let us stay;
He loves my daughter, and she holds him dear:
But I have sworn to frustrate both their hopes,
And be revenged upon the—(Governor).

Oh bravely fought, and yet they thrust not home.
Now Lodowick, now Mathias, so;
So now they have showed themselves to be tall fellows.

Ithamore: Oh mistress! I have the bravest, gravest, secret, subtle, bottle-nosed knave to my master, that ever gentleman had.

Abigail: Say, knave, why rail’st upon my father thus?

Ithamore: Oh, my master has the bravest policy.

Stay, first let me stir it Ithamore.
As fatal be it to her as the draught
Of which great Alexander drunk, and died:
And with her let it work like Borgia’s wine,
Whereof his sire, the Pope, was poisonèd.
In a few, the blood of Hydra, Lerna’s bane:
The juice of hebon, and Cocytus’ breath,
And all the poisons of the Stygian pool
Break from the fiery kingdom; and in this
Vomit your venom, and envenom her
That like a fiend hat left her father thus.

Ferneze: Should I in pity of thy plaints or thee,
Accursèd Barabas, base Jew, relent?
No, thus I’ll see thy treachery repaid,
But wish thou hadst behaved thee otherwise.

Barabas: You will not help me then?

Ferneze: No, villain, no.

Barabas: And villains, know you cannot help me now.
Then Barabas breathe forth thy latest fate,
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 Christians, dogs, and Turkish infidels;
But now begins the extremity of heat
To pinch me with intolerable pangs:
Die life, fly soul, tongue curse thy fill and die!