tragic intensity we find a splendid hope
weakening to dreary disappointment. The whole of the first act and the
opening scene of the second act ring true to tragedy. Nothing could be
better planned than the swift transition from the golden harvesting of
wealth to its confiscation by the state. The contrast, too, between the
dignified resistance of Barabas and the weak surrender of his companions
artistically emphasizes the former's splendid isolation. For the brief
scene in which the Jew, haunting the vicinity of the nunnery like
'ghosts that glide by night about the place where treasure hath been
hid', regains his bags of gold and precious jewels, no praise can be too
high. After that, however, the ennobling mantle of human sorrow and pain
falls away; the crimes that follow are hideous in their
nakedness--murders or massacres, nothing more. Not the least attempt is
made to enlist our sympathy for any one of the murdered, except Abigail.
If we are asked, then, to define the true nature of the play, we shall
call it not a tragedy proper, in the sense in which _Macbeth_ is a
tragedy, but rather a narrative play presenting the criminal career of a
villain acting under provocation. As has been well pointed out by Mr.
Baker in his _Development of Shakespeare_, there is a difference between
'the tragic' and 'tragedy'. We might describe _The Jew of Malta_ as a
tragic narrative play.

In characterization Marlowe has made a distinct advance. With the
creation of Barabas he brings upon the stage a person of many commanding
qualities. The Jew is great in his own terrible way. He is far-seeing,
bold, subtle, relentless. He loves his daughter much, his gold
immeasurably. Tempests of emotion shake his frame when restraint is
thrown aside. But at need he can be calm and conciliatory in the face of
intense annoyance and blustering threats. In the hour of death he is own
brother to defiant Tamburlaine. The points of resemblance between him
and Shylock may be searched out by any curious student: the reality of
the likeness, scoffed at by a few whose admiration for Shakespeare is
inclined to prejudice their judgment, has been effectively demonstrated
by Professor Ward.[67] It would be an interesting exercise to pursue
Professor Ward's hint at the insincerity of the Jew's recital to
Ithamore of his early crimes. We might work back to an initial
conception of Barabas as an upright merchant, and so discover a real
tragedy in the moral downf