Doth see his soldiers slain, himself disarm'd,
And knows no means of his recovery:
Ay, let me sorrow for this sudden chance;
'Tis in the trouble of my spirit I speak:
Great injuries are not so soon forgot.

FIRST JEW. Come, let us leave him; in his ireful mood
Our words will but increase his ecstasy.<41>

SECOND JEW. On, then: but, trust me, 'tis a misery
To see a man in such affliction.--
Farewell, Barabas.

BARABAS. Ay, fare you well.
[Exeunt three JEWS.]<42>
See the simplicity of these base slaves,
Who, for the villains have no wit themselves,
Think me to be a senseless lump of clay,
That will with every water wash to dirt!
No, Barabas is born to better chance,
And fram'd of finer mould than common men,
That measure naught 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.

Enter ABIGAIL.

But whither wends my beauteous Abigail?
O, what has made my lovely daughter sad?