Page:The Jew of Malta - Marlowe (1633).pdf/29

 So that not he, but I may curse the day, Thy fatall birth-day, forlorne Barabas; And henceforth wish for an eternall night, That clouds of darknesse may inclose my flesh, And hide these extreme sorrowes from mine eyes: For onely I have toyl'd to inherit here The months of vanity and losse of time, And painefull nights have bin appointed me.

2 Jew. Good Barabas be patient.

Bar. I, I pray leave me in my patience. You that were ne're possest of wealth, are pleas'd with want. But give him liberty at least to mourne, That in a field amidst his enemies, Doth see his souldiers slaine, himselfe disarm'd, And knowes no meanes of his recoverie: I, let me sorrow for this sudden chance, 'Tis in the trouble of my spirit I speake; Great injuries are not so soone forgot.

1 Jew. Come, let us leave him in his irefull mood, Our words will but increase his extasie.

2 Jew. On then: but trust me 'tis a misery To see a man in such affliction: Farewell Barabas.

Bar. I, fare you well. See the simplicitie of these base slaves, Who for the villaines have no wit themselves, Thinke me to be a senselesse lumpe of clay That will with every water wash to dirt: No, Barabas is borne to better chance, And fram'd of finer mold then common men, That measure nought but by the present time. A reaching thought will search his deepest wits, And cast with cunning for the time to come: For evils are apt to happen every day But whither wends my beauteous Abigall?

Oh what has made my lovely daughter sad?