Away, no more, let him not trouble me.
Thus hast thou gotten, by thy policie,
No simple place, no small authority,
I now am Governour of Malta; true,
But Malta hates me, and in hating me
My life's in danger, and what boots it thee
Poore Barabas, to be the Governour,
When as thy life shall be at their command ?
No, Barabas, this must be look'd into;
And since by wrong thou got'st Authority,
Maintaine it bravely by firme policy,
At least unprofitably lose it not:
For he that liveth in Authority,
And neither gets him friends, nor fils his bags,
Lives like the Asse that Aesope speaketh of,
That labours with a load of bread and wine,
And leaves it off to snap on Thistle tops:
But Barabas will be more circumspect.
Begin betimes, Occasion's bald behind,
Slip not shine opportunity, for feare too late
Thou seek'st for much, but canst not compasse it.
Within here.