Barabas Character Analysis

But whither am I bound, I come not, I,
To read a lecture here in Britaine,
But to present the tragedy of a Jew,
Who smiles to see how full his bags are crammed,
Which money was not got without my means.
I crave but this, grace him as he deserves,
And let him not be entertained the worse
Because he favours me.

Thus trowls our fortune in by land and sea,
And thus are we on every side enriched:
These are the blessings promised to the Jews,
And herein was old Abram’s happiness:
What more may heaven do for earthly man
Than thus to pour out plenty in their laps,
Ripping the bowels of the earth for them,
Making the sea their servant, and the winds
To drive their substance with successful blasts?

Rather had I a Jew be hated thus,
Than pitied in a Christian poverty:
For I can see no fruits in all their faith,
But malice, falsehood, and excessive pride,
Which methinks fits not their profession.
Happily some hapless man hath conscience,
And for his conscience lives in beggary.
They say we are a scattered nation:
I cannot tell, but we have scrambled up
More wealth by far than those that brag of faith.

Barabas: Are strangers with your tribute to be taxed?

Knight: Have strangers leave with us to get their wealth?
Then let them with us contribute.

Barabas: How equally?

Ferneze: No, Jew, like infidels,
For through our sufferance of your hateful lives,
Who stand accursèd in the sight of heaven,
These taxes and afflictions are befallen,
And therefore thus we are determinèd;
Read there the articles of our decrees.

What? Bring you scripture to confirm your wrongs?
Preach me not out of my possessions.
Some Jews are wicked, as all Christians are:
But say the tribe that I descended of
Were all in general cast away for sin,
Shall I be tried by their transgression?
The man that dealeth righteously shall live:
And which of you can charge me otherwise?

Out wretched Barabas,
Sham’st thou not thus to justify thyself,
As if we knew not thy profession?
If thou rely upon they righteousness,
Be patient and thy riches will increase.
Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness:
And covetousness, oh, ‘tis a monstrous sin.

Ay, policy? That’s their profession,
And not simplicity, as they suggest.
The plagues of Egypt, and the curse of heaven,
Earth’s barrenness, and all men’s hatred
Inflict upon them, thou great Primus Motor.
And here upon my knees, striking the earth,
I ban their souls to everlasting pains
And extreme tortures of the fiery deep,
That thus have dealt with me in my distress.

Barabas: Then Abigail, there must my girl
Entreat the abbess to be entertained.

Abigail: How, as a nun?

Barabas: Ay, daughter, for religion
Hides many mischiefs from suspicion.

Abigail: Thus father shall I much dissemble.

Barabas: Tush,
As good dissemble that thou never mean’st
As first mean truth and then dissemble it;
A counterfeit profession is better
Than unseen hypocrisy.

Oh my girl,
My gold, my fortune, my felicity;
Strength to my soul, death to mine enemy;
Welcome the first beginner of my bliss:
Oh Abigail, Abigail, that I had thee here too,
Then my desires were fully satisfied.
But I will practise thy enlargement thence:
Oh girl, oh gold, oh beauty, oh my bliss!

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).

Barabas: Hast thou no trade? Then listen to my words,
And I will teach that shall stick by thee:
First be thou void of these affections,
Compassion, love, vain hope, and heartless fear,
Be moved at nothing, see thou pity none,
But to thyself smile when the Christians moan.

Ithamore: Oh brave, master, I worship your nose for this.

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.

Bernardine: Know that confession must not be revealed,
The canon law forbids it, and the priest
That makes it known, being degraded first,
Shall be condemned, and then sent to the fire.

Abigail: So I have heard; pray therefore keep it close,
Death seizeth on my heart, ah gentle friar
Convert my father that he may be saved,
And witness that I die a Christian.

Bernardine: Ay, and a virgin too, that grieves me most:
But I must to the Jew and exclaim on him,
And make him stand in fear of me.

Oh fatal day to fall into the hands
Of such a traitor and unhallowed Jew!
What greater misery could heaven inflict?

Away, no more, let him not trouble me.
Thou hast thou gotten, by thy policy,
No simple place, no small authority,
I am now Governor of Malta; true,
But Malta hates me, and in hating me
My life’s in danger, and what boots it thee
Poor Barabas, to be the Governor,
Whenas thy life shall be at their command?
No Barabas, this must be looked into;
And since by wrong thou got’st authority,
Maintain it bravely by firm policy,
At least unprofitably lose it not:
For he that liveth in authority,
And neither gets him friends, nor fills his bags,
Lives like the ass that Aesop speaketh of,
That labours with a load of bread and wine,
And leaves it off to snap on thistle tops:
But Barabas will be more circumspect.
Begin betimes, Occasion’s bald behind,
Slip not thine opportunity, for fear too late
Thou seek’st for much, but canst not compass it.
Within here.

And thus far roundly goes the business:
Thus loving neither, will I live with both,
Making a profit of my policy;
And he from whom my most advantage comes,
Shall be my friend.
This is the life we Jews are used to lead;
And reason too, for Christians do the like:
Well, now about effecting this device:
First to surprise great Selim’s soldiers,
And then to make provision for the feast,
Then at one instant all things may be done,
My policy detests prevention:
To what even my secret purpose drives,
I know; and they shall witness with their lives.

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!

Content thee, Calymath, here thou must stay,
And live in Malta prisoner; for come call 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.

But whither am I bound, I come not, I,
To read a lecture here in Britaine,
But to present the tragedy of a Jew,
Who smiles to see how full his bags are crammed,
Which money was not got without my means.
I crave but this, grace him as he deserves,
And let him not be entertained the worse
Because he favours me.

Thus trowls our fortune in by land and sea,
And thus are we on every side enriched:
These are the blessings promised to the Jews,
And herein was old Abram’s happiness:
What more may heaven do for earthly man
Than thus to pour out plenty in their laps,
Ripping the bowels of the earth for them,
Making the sea their servant, and the winds
To drive their substance with successful blasts?

Rather had I a Jew be hated thus,
Than pitied in a Christian poverty:
For I can see no fruits in all their faith,
But malice, falsehood, and excessive pride,
Which methinks fits not their profession.
Happily some hapless man hath conscience,
And for his conscience lives in beggary.
They say we are a scattered nation:
I cannot tell, but we have scrambled up
More wealth by far than those that brag of faith.

Barabas: Are strangers with your tribute to be taxed?

Knight: Have strangers leave with us to get their wealth?
Then let them with us contribute.

Barabas: How equally?

Ferneze: No, Jew, like infidels,
For through our sufferance of your hateful lives,
Who stand accursèd in the sight of heaven,
These taxes and afflictions are befallen,
And therefore thus we are determinèd;
Read there the articles of our decrees.

What? Bring you scripture to confirm your wrongs?
Preach me not out of my possessions.
Some Jews are wicked, as all Christians are:
But say the tribe that I descended of
Were all in general cast away for sin,
Shall I be tried by their transgression?
The man that dealeth righteously shall live:
And which of you can charge me otherwise?

Out wretched Barabas,
Sham’st thou not thus to justify thyself,
As if we knew not thy profession?
If thou rely upon they righteousness,
Be patient and thy riches will increase.
Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness:
And covetousness, oh, ‘tis a monstrous sin.

Ay, policy? That’s their profession,
And not simplicity, as they suggest.
The plagues of Egypt, and the curse of heaven,
Earth’s barrenness, and all men’s hatred
Inflict upon them, thou great Primus Motor.
And here upon my knees, striking the earth,
I ban their souls to everlasting pains
And extreme tortures of the fiery deep,
That thus have dealt with me in my distress.

Barabas: Then Abigail, there must my girl
Entreat the abbess to be entertained.

Abigail: How, as a nun?

Barabas: Ay, daughter, for religion
Hides many mischiefs from suspicion.

Abigail: Thus father shall I much dissemble.

Barabas: Tush,
As good dissemble that thou never mean’st
As first mean truth and then dissemble it;
A counterfeit profession is better
Than unseen hypocrisy.

Oh my girl,
My gold, my fortune, my felicity;
Strength to my soul, death to mine enemy;
Welcome the first beginner of my bliss:
Oh Abigail, Abigail, that I had thee here too,
Then my desires were fully satisfied.
But I will practise thy enlargement thence:
Oh girl, oh gold, oh beauty, oh my bliss!

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).

Barabas: Hast thou no trade? Then listen to my words,
And I will teach that shall stick by thee:
First be thou void of these affections,
Compassion, love, vain hope, and heartless fear,
Be moved at nothing, see thou pity none,
But to thyself smile when the Christians moan.

Ithamore: Oh brave, master, I worship your nose for this.

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.

Bernardine: Know that confession must not be revealed,
The canon law forbids it, and the priest
That makes it known, being degraded first,
Shall be condemned, and then sent to the fire.

Abigail: So I have heard; pray therefore keep it close,
Death seizeth on my heart, ah gentle friar
Convert my father that he may be saved,
And witness that I die a Christian.

Bernardine: Ay, and a virgin too, that grieves me most:
But I must to the Jew and exclaim on him,
And make him stand in fear of me.

Oh fatal day to fall into the hands
Of such a traitor and unhallowed Jew!
What greater misery could heaven inflict?

Away, no more, let him not trouble me.
Thou hast thou gotten, by thy policy,
No simple place, no small authority,
I am now Governor of Malta; true,
But Malta hates me, and in hating me
My life’s in danger, and what boots it thee
Poor Barabas, to be the Governor,
Whenas thy life shall be at their command?
No Barabas, this must be looked into;
And since by wrong thou got’st authority,
Maintain it bravely by firm policy,
At least unprofitably lose it not:
For he that liveth in authority,
And neither gets him friends, nor fills his bags,
Lives like the ass that Aesop speaketh of,
That labours with a load of bread and wine,
And leaves it off to snap on thistle tops:
But Barabas will be more circumspect.
Begin betimes, Occasion’s bald behind,
Slip not thine opportunity, for fear too late
Thou seek’st for much, but canst not compass it.
Within here.

And thus far roundly goes the business:
Thus loving neither, will I live with both,
Making a profit of my policy;
And he from whom my most advantage comes,
Shall be my friend.
This is the life we Jews are used to lead;
And reason too, for Christians do the like:
Well, now about effecting this device:
First to surprise great Selim’s soldiers,
And then to make provision for the feast,
Then at one instant all things may be done,
My policy detests prevention:
To what even my secret purpose drives,
I know; and they shall witness with their lives.

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!

Content thee, Calymath, here thou must stay,
And live in Malta prisoner; for come call 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.