The Jew of Malta: Metaphors 6 key examples

Various characters draw comparisons between Abigail and the stars—here, specifically, she is likened to a loadstar, which leads or guides. In the first act of The Jew of Malta, Abigail is a centering force for her father, a person around whom he can structure all of his goals, hopes, and aspirations. She is also one of his greatest advocates, announcing in Act 1, Scene 1 that she will confront the senate after hearing of her father's misfortunes at the hands of the government: 

But I will learn to leave these fruitless tears,
And, urged thereto with my afflictions,
With fierce exclaims run to the senate-house,
And in the senate reprehend them all,
And rend their hearts with tearing of my hair,
Till they reduce the wrongs done to my father.

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Abigail is Barabas's loadstar, his advocate, someone whom he has decided will inherit all of his wealth. He puts her on a pedestal—a fact that makes his shift in attitude towards her in Act 2 (which culminates in murder) all the more tragic.

Barabas here claims that his enemies think him a "senseless lump of clay"—something that, to him, is clearly equated with weakness or a lack of fortitude. To be clay (at least in this context) is to be spineless and incapable of standing up for oneself or fighting back.

In the Bible, human beings are often metaphorically likened to clay. But, unlike in Barabas's characterization, biblical writers frequently associate clay with the idea of humans being formed or molded by God—of being made, even, in the image of God. Barabas has thus co-opted a metaphor with positive connotations and imposed his own Machiavellian viewpoint upon them.

Abigail's comparison to a flower, as well as the location of said flower, are details intended to emphasize her beauty and youthful bloom. Cytherea—or Cythera—is a Greek island that was thought to be the birthplace of Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty. This comparison is heavily steeped in cliché: indeed, it is incredibly common to see women compared to flowers or goddesses in both poetry and prose written by men. This metaphor is so stereotypical that it is arguably rather objectifiying—Mathias and Lodowick both perceive Abigail more as a projection of their own wants and hopes than as a real person with agency. Abigail's father views her similarly, using her as a pawn in his game of revenge and subsequently murdering her when she exhibits agency by defying him and joining the nunnery. 

Mathias uses figurative language to conjure up the image of Lodowick's heart as something that is surrounded by brass walls and thus impenetrable to love. This metaphor may seem a bit strange at first—why would Mathias reference brass specifically, and not another metal? Why describe these metaphorical walls as being made of metal at all, when real walls are more often constructed out of stone? The metaphorical significance of brass in this context is twofold. Most significantly, it was common to see brass used as a decorative metal during this time period, so Mathias may be suggesting that wealth and superficiality have made Lodowick unable to form real human connection. Secondly, the specification of brass may also be a subtle attempt at foreshadowing, as it was a common practice from the 13th century until the 17th century to use brass at burial sites as a means of commemorating the deceased. Lodowick is later killed, so this mention of brass may be a subtle attempt to prematurely "commemorate" his death.

Various characters draw comparisons between Abigail and the stars—here, specifically, she is likened to a loadstar, which leads or guides. In the first act of The Jew of Malta, Abigail is a centering force for her father, a person around whom he can structure all of his goals, hopes, and aspirations. She is also one of his greatest advocates, announcing in Act 1, Scene 1 that she will confront the senate after hearing of her father's misfortunes at the hands of the government: 

But I will learn to leave these fruitless tears,
And, urged thereto with my afflictions,
With fierce exclaims run to the senate-house,
And in the senate reprehend them all,
And rend their hearts with tearing of my hair,
Till they reduce the wrongs done to my father.

Cite this Quote

Abigail is Barabas's loadstar, his advocate, someone whom he has decided will inherit all of his wealth. He puts her on a pedestal—a fact that makes his shift in attitude towards her in Act 2 (which culminates in murder) all the more tragic.

Lodowick and Barabas use diamonds as a stand-in for Abigail's actual name in this conversation, revealing their tendencies toward materialism. Both men view her as an object, something to be discussed, haggled over, and possessed. She is of interest to them both only insofar as she can satisfy them or help them towards achieving an end: for Lodowick, this satisfaction is romantic in nature and entirely unsurprising; for Barabas, this satisfaction is derived from Abigail's usefulness, whether as a pawn in a revenge scheme or as heir apparent to his wealth. Diamonds are beautiful, but they do not have agency in the eye of the beholder—and neither, in the eyes of Barabas or Lodowick, does Abigail.

Abigail personifies her soul, offering up an image of it pacing in a labyrinth. By design, labyrinths are intended to prevent their occupants from ever finding a way out: if lost in a labyrinth, one might end up trapped forever. Abigail thus views her lack of belief in Christianity as a fateful trap, preventing her from leading an eternal life of joy.

In any other context, this passage would seem fairly innocuous; however, in a play that heavily features other antisemitic stereotypes (i.e. a greedy Jewish man who hates Christians and wants to hoard wealth), this conversion and the associated metaphors serve to further paint Judaism as not only undesirable but also unethical and suffocating when compared to the Christian alternative.

Barbaras later affirms this negative association when he speaks to the monks who confront him for poisoning the nuns. In an attempt to deceive the monks through false repentance, Barbaras states, "I am a Jew, and therefore I am lost," thus playing on the deeply problematic idea that being Jewish is some kind of moral or spiritual failure.