Bar. So do I too.
Lod. How shows it by night?
Bar. Outshines Cynthia's rays: You'll like it better far o' nights than days. [Aside.
Lod. And what's the price?
Bar. Your life an' if you have it. [Aside.] O my lord, We will not jar about the price; come to my house And I will give't your honour—with a vengeance. [Aside.
Lod. No, Barabas, I will deserve it first.70
Bar. Good sir, Your father has deserved it at my hands, Who, of mere charity and Christian truth, To bring me to religious purity, And as it were in catechising 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 o' doors, And made my house a place for nuns most chaste.
Lod. No doubt your soul shall reap the fruit of it.80
Bar. I, 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, Are wondrous;—and indeed do no man good: [Aside. And seeing they are not idle, but still doing, 'Tis likely they in time may reap some fruit, I mean in fulness of perfection.
Lod. Good Barabas, glance not at our holy nuns.