[Enter FRIAR JACOMO, FRIAR BARNARDINE, ABBESS, and a NUN.]

FRIAR JACOMO. Sisters,

We now are almost at the new-made nunnery.

ABBESS. The better; for we love not to be seen:

'Tis thirty winters long since some of us

Did stray so far amongst the multitude.

FRIAR JACOMO. But, madam, this house

And waters of this new-made nunnery

Will much delight you.

ABBESS. It may be so.---But who comes here?

 [ABIGAIL comes forward.]

ABIGAIL. Grave abbess, and you happy virgins' guide,

Pity the state of a distressed maid!

ABBESS. What art thou, daughter?

ABIGAIL. The hopeless daughter of a hapless Jew,

The Jew of Malta, wretched Barabas,

Sometimes the owner of a goodly house,

Which they have now turn'd to a nunnery.

ABBESS. Well, daughter, say, what is thy suit with us?

ABIGAIL. Fearing the afflictions