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!