Will serve as well as I were present there.
Go send 'em threescore camels, thirty mules,
And twenty wagons to bring up the ware.
But art thou master in a ship of mine,
And is thy credit not enough for that?
Merchant-

The very custom barely comes to more
Than many merchants of the town are worth,
And therefore far exceeds my credit, sir.
Barabas

Go tell 'em the Jew of Malta sent thee, man:
Tush! who amongst 'em knows not Barabas?
Merchant-

So then, there's somewhat come.

Sirrah, which of my ships art thou master of? Merchant

Of the "Speranza," sir.

Barabas

And saw'st thou not

Mine argosy at Alexandria?

Thou couldst not come from Egypt, or by Caire,

But at the entry there into the sea,

Where Nilus pays his tribute to the main,
Thou needs must sail by Alexandria.

Merchant

I neither saw them, nor inquired of them:

But this we heard some of our seamen say,

They wondered how you durst with so much wealth
Trust such a crazèd vessel, and so far.

Barabas

Tush, they are wise! I know her and her strength.
But go, go thou thy ways, discharge thy ship,

And bid my factor bring his loading in. [Exit Merchant.
And yet I wonder at this argosy.

Second Merchant

Enter a second Merchant.

Thine argosy from Alexandria,

Know, Barabas, doth ride in Malta road,

Laden with riches, and exceeding store

Of Persian silks, of gold, and orient pearl.

Barabas

How chance you came not with those other ships
That sailed by Egypt?

[Exit.

Second Merchant·

Sir, we saw 'em not.

Barabas

Belike they coasted round by Candy shore
About their oils, or other businesses.

But 'twas ill done of you to come so far
Without the aid or conduct of their ships.
Second Merchant·

Sir, we were wafted by a Spanish fleet, That never left us till within a league, That had the galleys of the Turk in chase. Barabas

Well, go,

And bid the merchants and my men dispatch

And come ashore, and see the fraught' discharged. Second Merchant

I go. Barabas

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 seas their servants, and the winds
To drive their substance with successful blasts?
Who hateth me but for my happiness?

Or who is honored now but for his wealth?
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.
Haply 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 scambled up
More wealth by far than those that brag of faith.
There's Kirriah Jairim, the great Jew of Greece,
Obed in Bairseth, Nones in Portugal,

Myself in Malta, some in Italy,

Many in France, and wealthy every one;

Ay, wealthier far than any Christian.
I must confess we come not to be kings;
That's not our fault: alas, our number's few,
And crowns come either by succession,
Or urged by force; and nothing violent,
Oft have I heard tell, can be permanent.
Give us a peaceful rule, make Christians kings,
That thirst so much for principality.

I have no charge, nor many children,
But one sole daughter, whom I hold as dear
As Agamemnon did his Iphigen:

And all I have is hers.

Thus, like the sad presaging raven that tolls
The sick man's passport in her hollow beak,
And in the shadow of the silent night
Doth shake contagion from her sable wings;
Vexed and tormented runs poor Barabas
With fatal curses towards these Christians.
The uncertain pleasures of swift-footed time
Have ta'en their flight, and left me in despair;
And of my former riches rests no more
But bare remembrance, like a soldier's scar,
That has no further comfort for his maim.
O thou, that with a fiery pillar led'st
The sons of Israel through the dismal shades,
Light Abraham's offspring; and direct the hand
Of Abigail this night; or let the day
Turn to eternal darkness after this!

No sleep can fasten on my watchful eyes,
Nor quiet enter my distempered thoughts,
Till I have answer of my Abigail.

Abigail

Enter ABIGAIL above.

Now have I happily espied a time

To search the plank my father did appoint; And here behold, unseen, where I have found The gold, the pearls, and jewels, which he hid. Barabas

Now I remember those old women's words,

Who in my wealth would tell me winter's tales,
And speak of spirits and ghosts that glide by night
About the place where treasure hath been hid:
And now methinks that I am one of those:
For whilst I live, here lives my soul's sole hope,
And, when I die, here shall my spirit walk.
Abigail-

Now that my father's fortune were so good
As but to be about this happy place;
"Tis not so happy: yet when we parted last,
He said he would attend me in the morn.
Then, gentle sleep, where'er his body rests,
Give charge to Morpheus that he may dream
A golden dream, and of the sudden wake,
Come and receive the treasure I have found.
Barabas-

Bueno para todos mi ganado no era : 1

As good go on as sit so sadly thus.

1

But stay, what star shines yonder in the east?
The loadstar of my life, if Abigail.

Who's there?

Abigail

Who's that?

Barabas

Peace, Abigail, 'tis I.

Abigail

Then, father, here receive thy happiness.

Barabas

Hast thou't?

Abigail

Here [throws down the bags], hast thou't?
There's more, and more, and more.

Barabas

O my girl,

My gold, my fortune, my felicity!

1 My gains were not of advantage to every one.