Monologue

Barabas Monologue from The Jew of Malta

From The Jew of Malta by Christopher Marlowe

male · defiant · 39 sec

No, Abigail; things past recovery Are hardly cur'd with exclamations: Be silent, daughter; sufferance breeds ease, And time may yield us an occasion, Which on the sudden cannot serve the turn. Besides, my girl, think me not all so fond As negligently to forgo so much Without provision for thyself and me: Ten thousand portagues, besides great pearls, Rich costly jewels, and stones infinite, Fearing the worst of this before it fell, I closely hid.

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