Of any constant man. What, worse and worse!

[Crosses to him.

With leave, Bassanio; I am half yourself,
And I must freely have the half of any thing
That this same paper brings you.

Bass. (L. c.) O, sweet Portia,

Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words,
That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady,
When I did first impart my love to you,
I freely told you, all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman;
And then I told you true: and yet, dear lady,
Rating myself at nothing, you shall see

How much I was a braggart: when I told you
My state was nothing, I should then have told you
That I was worse than nothing; for, indeed,
I have engag'd myself to a dear friend,
Engag'd my friend to his mere enemy,
To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady;
The paper, as the body of my friend,
And every word in it a gaping wound,
Issuing life-blood.-But is it true, Solanio?

[SOL. advances.

Have all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit?
From Tripolis, from Mexico, and England?
And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch
Of merchant-marring rocks?

Sol. (L. c.) Not one, my lord.

Besides, it should appear, that if he had
The present money to discharge the Jew,
He would not take it: never did I know
A creature, that did bear the shape of man,
So keen and greedy to confound a man:
He plies the Duke at morning and at night;
And doth impeach the freedom of the state,
If they deny him justice: twenty merchants,
The duke himself, and the magnificoes,
Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him;
But none can drive him from the envious plea

Of forfeiture, of justice, and his bond. [Retires back.
Por. (c.) Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?
Bass. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,

The best condition'd and unweary'd spirit

In doing courtesies; and one in whom
The ancient Roman honour more appears,
Than any that draws breath in Italy.

Por. What sum owes he the Jew?

Bass. For me, three thousand ducats.
Por. What, no more?

Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond;
Double six thousand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this description

Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault.
First, go with me to church, and call me wife;
And then away to Venice to your friend;
For never shall you lie by Portia's side
With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold
To pay the petty debt twenty times over;
When it is done, bring your true friend along:
My maid Nerissa, and myself, meantime,
Will live as maids and widows. Come, away;
For you shall hence upon your wedding-day. (R.)
But let me hear the letter of your friend. (R. C.)

Bass. [Reads.] "Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since, in paying it, it is impossible I should live, all debts are cleared between you and me. If I might but see you at my death: notwithstanding, use your pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter." Por. O love, dispatch all business, and be gone. Bass. Since I have your good leave to go away, I will make haste; but, 'till I come again,

No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay,

No rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. [Exeunt, R.

SCENE III.-A Street in Venice.

Enter SHYLOCK, ANTONIO, SALARINO, and the Gaoler, L.

Shy. (c.) Gaoler, look to him ;-tell not me of mercy; This is the fool that lent out money gratis:

Gaoler, look to him.

Ant. (c.) Hear me yet, good Shylock.

Shy. (R. C.) I'll have my bond; speak not against my bond;

I have sworn an oath, that I will have my bond:
Thou call'd'st me dog, before thou had'st a cause;
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs :
The duke shall grant me justice.—I do wonder,

Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond
To come abroad with him at his request.
Ant. I pray thee, hear me speak.

Shy. I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak ;
I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more.
I'll not be made a soft and dull-ey'd fool,

To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield

To Christian intercessors. Follow not;

I'll have no speaking; I will have my bond. [Exit, R.
Sala. (L. c.) It is the most impenetrable cur
That ever kept with men.

Ant. Let him alone;

I'll follow him no more with bootless prayers,
He seeks my life; his reason well I know;

I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures

Many that have at times made moan to me;
Therefore he hates me.

Salu. I am sure, the duke

Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.

Ant. The duke cannot deny the course of law,
For the commodity that strangers have
With us in Venice, if it be deny'd,

Will much impeach the justice of the state;
Since that the trade and profit of the city
Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go;
These griefs and losses have so 'bated me,
That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh
To-morrow to my bloody creditor. (L.)
Well, gaoler, on :-Pray heav'n Bassanio come
To see me pay his debt, and then I care not!

[Exeunt, L.

SCENE IV.-Portia's House at Belmont.

Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, PORTIA, NERISSA, and BALTHAZAR.

Lor. (c.) Madam, although I speak it in your pre

sence,

You have a noble and a true conceit

Of god-like amity; which appears most strongly
In bearing thus the absence of your lord.

But, if you knew to whom you shew this honour,
How true a gentleman you send relief,
How dear a lover of my lord your husband;
I know you would be prouder of the work,
Than customary bounty can enforce you.

Por. (c.) I never did repent me doing good,
Nor shall not now;

This comes too near the praising of myself;
Therefore, no more of it: hear other things:
Lorenzo, I commit into your hands

The husbandry and manage of my house,
Until my lord's return: for mine own part,
I have toward heaven breath'd a secret vow,
To live in prayer and contemplation,
Only attended by Nerissa here,

Until her husband and my lord's return;
There is a monastery two miles off,
And there we will abide. I do desire you
Not to deny this imposition:

The which my love, and some necessity,
Now lays upon you..

Lor. Madam, with all my heart;

I shall obey you in all fair commands.
Por. My people do already know my mind,
And will acknowledge you and Jessica,
In place of Lord Bassanio and myself.
So fare you well, till we shall meet again.

Lor. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you. Jes. (c.) I wish your ladyship all heart's content. Por. I thank you for your wish, and am well pleas'd To wish it back on you: fare you well, Jessica.— [Exeunt JESSICA and LORENzo, L. [BAL. advances, n.

(R. C.) Now, Balthazar,
As I have ever found thee honest, true,

So let me find thee still: take this same letter,
And use thou all the endeavour of a man

In speed to Padua: see thou render this

Into my cousin's hand, Doctor Bellario:

And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee, Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin'd speed

Unto the tranect, to the common ferry

Which trades to Venice: waste no time in words,
But get thee gone: I shall be there before thee.
Bal. Madam, I go with all convenient speed.

[Erit, R.

Por. Come on, Nerissa; I have work in hand
That you yet know not of: we'll see our husbands
Before they think of us.

Ner. Shall they see us?
Por. They shall, Nerissa;

But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device
When I am in my coach, which stays for us
At the park gate: and therefore haste away,
For we must measure twenty miles to-day.

[Exeunt, L.

SCENE V.-The Garden at Belmont.

Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT, L.

Laun. (L. c.) Yes, truly: for look you, the sins of the father are to be laid upon the children; therefore, I promise you, I fear you. I was always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of the matter:-therefore be of good cheer; for, truly, I think you are damned. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good; and that is but a kind of bastard hope, neither.

Jes. (c.) And what hope is that, I pray thee?

Laun. Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you not, that you are not the Jew's daughter.

Jes. That were a kind of bastard hope, indeed; so the sins of my mother should be visited upon me.

Laun. Truly then, I fear you are damn'd both by father and mother: thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother: well, you are gone both ways.

Jes. I shall be saved by my husband; he hath made me a Christian.

Laun. Truly, the more to blame he: we were Christians enough before: e'n as many as could well live one by another. This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs; if we grow all to be pork-eaters we shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money.

Jes. (R.) I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say; here he comes.

Enter LORENZO, R.

Lor. I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you thus get my wife into corners.

Jes. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo; Launcelot and I are out: he tells me flatly, there is no mercy for me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter.

Lor. (c.) Go in, sirrah; bid them prepare for dinner. Laun. (R. C.) That is done, sir; they have all stomachs.