Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke. Gra. Beg, that thou may't have leave to hang thy felf; And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, Thou haft not left the value of a cord; Therefore, thou must be hang'd at the ftate's charge. Duke. That thou may'ft fee the diff'rence of our fpirit, I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it: Por. What mercy can you render him, Anthonio? Gra. A halter gratis; nothing else, for God's fake. Ant. So please my lord the Duke, and all the Court, To quit the fine for one half of his goods, I am content; fo he will let me have The other half in ufe, to render it Two things provided more, that for this favour The other, that he do record a Gift Here in the Court, of all he dies poffefs'd, Unto his fon Lorenzo and his daughter. Duke. He fhall do this, or else I do recant The pardon that I late pronounced here. Por. Art thou contented, few? what doft thou fay ? Shy. I am content, Por. Clerk, draw a Deed of gift. Shy. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence; I am not well; fend the Deed after me, And I will fign it. Duke. Get thee gone, but do it. Gra. In christ'ning thou fhalt have two godfathers. Had Had I been judge, thou should't have had ten more, (18) To bring thee to the gallows, not the font. [Exit Shylock. Duke. Sir, I intreat you home with me to dinner. Por. I humbly do defire your Grace of pardon ; I must away this night to Padua, And it is meet, I presently set forth. Duke. I'm forry, that your leisure serves you not. Anthonio, gratify this gentleman; For, in my mind, you are much bound to him. [Exit Duke and his train. Por. He is well paid, that is well fatisfy'd; Baff. Dear Sir, of force I must attempt you further. Por. You prefs me far, and therefore I will yield. Baf. This ring, good Sir, alas, it is a trifle; (18) thon fhould't have had ten more,] i. e. a Jury of Twelve Men, to condemn thee to be hang'd. Bal Baff. There's more depends on this, than is the value. The dearest ring in Venice will I give you, And find it out by proclamation; Only for this, I pray you, pardon me. Por. I fee, Sir, you are liberal in offers ; Baff Good Sir, this ring was giv'n me by my wife. And know how well I have deferv'd the ring, [Exit with Neriffa. And in the morning early will we both Re-enter Portia and Neriffa. [Exeunt. Por. Enquire the Jew's houfe out, give him this Deed, And let him fign it; we'll away to night, And be a day before our husbands home: Enter Gratiano. Gra. Fair Sir, you are well o'erta'en: Hath fent you here this ring, and doth intreat Por. That cannot be. This ring I do accept moft thankfully, And fo, I pray you, tell him; furthermore, I pray you, fhew my Youth old Shylock's houfe. Ner. Sir, I would speak with you. I'll fee if I can get my husband's ring: fwearing, [To Por: We fhall have old That they did give the rings away to men ; But we'll out-face them, and out-fwear them too : Away, make hafte, thou know'ft where I will tarry. Ner. Come, good Sir, will you fhew me to this houfe? [Exeunt. SCENE, Belmont. A Grove, or green Place, before Portia's Houfe. T Enter Lorenzo and Jeffica. LORENZO. HE moon fhines bright: In fuch a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noife; in fuch a night, Troylus, methinks, mounted the Trojan wall; And figh'd his foul toward the Grecian tents, Where Creid lay that night. Jef. In fuch a night, Did Thisbe fearfully o'er-trip the dew; And faw the lion's fhadow ere himself, And ran diimayed away. Lor. In fuch a night, Stood Dido with a willow in her hand Upon the wild fea-banks, and wav'd her love To come again to Carthage. Jef. Jef. In fuch a night, Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs, Lor. In fuch a night, Did Jefica fteal from the wealthy few, And with an unthrift love did run from Venice, Jef. And in fuch a night, Did young Lorenzo fwear, he lov'd her well; Lor. And in fuch a night, Did pretty Jeffica, (like a little fhrew) Jef. I would out-night you, did no body come: Enter Stephano. Lor. Who comes fo faft, in filence of the night? Lor. What friend? your name, I pray you, friend? Be here at Belmont: fhe doth ftray about By holy Croffes, where the kneels, and prays, I Lor. Who comes with her? Mef. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid. pray you, is my mafter yet return'd ? Lor. He is not, nor have we yet heard from him: But go we in, I pray thee, Feffica, And ceremoniously let us prepare Some welcome for the mistress of the house. Enter Launcelot. Laun. Sola, fola, wo ha, ho, fola, fola! Lor. Who calls ? Laun. Sola! did you fee mafter Lorenzo and mistress Lorenza? fola, fola! Lor. Leave hollowing, man: here, Laun. |