And there we will abide. I do defire you,

Not to deny this impofition:

The which my love and fome neceffity

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 Jeffica

In place of Lord Baffanio and myself.
So fare you well till we shall meet again.

Lor. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you! Jef. I wish your Ladyfhip all heart's content. Por. I thank you for your wish, and am well pleased To wish it back on you: fare you well, Jeffica.

Now, Balthazar,

[Exeunt Jeffica and Lorenzo.

As I have ever found thee honest, true,

So let me find thee ftill: take this fame letter,
And use thou all th' endeavour of a man,

In fpeed to Padua; fee thou render this

Into my coufin'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 Traject, to the common ferry

Which trades to Venice: wafte no time in words,
But get thee gone; I fhall be there before thee.

Bal. Madam, I go with all convenient fpeed. [Exit.
Por. Come on, Neriffa; I have work in hand,
That you yet know not of: we'll fee our husbands,
Before they think of us.

Ner. Shall they see us?

Por. They fhall, Neriffa ; but in fuch a habit,
That they fhall think we are accomplished
With what we lack. I'll hold thee any wager,
When we are both apparell'd like young men,
I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two,
And wear my dagger with the braver grace;
And fpeak between the change of man and boy,
• With a reed voice; and turn two mincing steps
• Into a manly ftride; and speak of frays,

Like a fine bragging youth; and tell quaint lyes, • How honourable ladies fought my love,

⚫ Which I denying, they fell fick, and dy'd; I could not do withal: then I'll repent,

And wish, for all that, that I had not kill'd them.
And twenty of these puny lyes I'll tell;

• That men fhall fwear I've difcontinued school
• Above a twelvemonth.' I have in my mind
A thoufand raw tricks of thefe bragging jacks,
Which I will practife.

Ner. Shall we turn to men?

Por. Fie, what a queftion's that,
If thou wert near a lewd interpreter !
But come, I'll 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 muft measure twenty miles to-day.

SCENE

VI.

[Exeunt.

Enter Launcelot and Jeffica.

Laun. Yes, truly for look you, the fins of the father are to be laid upon the children; therefore I promife you, I fear you. I was always plain with you; and fo now I fpeak my agitation of the matter: therefore be of good cheer; for truly I think you are damn'd. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good, and that is but a kind of baftard hope neither.

Jef. 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.

Jef. That were a kind of baftard hope indeed; fo the fins of my mother fhould be vifited upon me.

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

Jef. I fhall be faved by my husband; he hath made me a Christian.

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

Enter Lorenzo:

Jef. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you fay: here he comes.

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

Jef. 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: and he fays, you are no good member of the commonwealth; for, in converting Jews to Chriftians, you raise the price of pork.

Lor. I fhall answer that better to the commonwealth, than you can the getting up of the negro's belly: the Moor is with child by you, Launcelot.

Laun. It is much that the Moor fhould be more than reafon; but if she be less than an honest woman, fhe is indeed more than I took her for.

Lor. How every fool can play upon the world! I think the best grace of wit will fhortly turn into filence, and difcourfe grow commendable in none but parrots. Go in, firrah, bid them prepare for dinner.

Laun. That is done, Sir; they have all ftomachs. Lor. Good Lord, what a wit-fnapper are you! then bid them prepare dinner.

Laun. That is done too, Sir; only cover is the word.
Lor. Will you cover then, Sir?

Laun. Not fo, Sir, neither; I know my duty.

Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occafion! wilt thou fhew the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray thee understand a plain man in his plain meaning. Go to thy fellows, bid them cover the table, ferve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner.

Laun. For the table, Sir, it shall be ferv'd in; for the meat, Sir, it fhall be covered; for your coming in to dinner, Sir, why, let it be as humours and conceits fhall govern. [Exit Laun. Lor. O dear difcretion, how his words are fuited! The fool hath planted in his memory

An army of good words; and I do know A many fools that ftand in better place, • Garnish'd like him, that for a trickfy word

Defy the matter.' How far'ft thou, Jeffica?
And now, good fweet, fay thy opinion,

How doft thou like the Lord Baffanio's wife?
Jef. Paft all expreffing: it is very meet
The Lord Baffanio live an upright life.
For, having fuch a bleffing in his Lady,
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth :
And if on earth he do not merit it,

In reafon he should never come to heav'n.
Why, if two gods fhould play fome heav'nly match,
And on the wager lay two earthly women,

And Portia one, there must be something else
Pawn'd with the other; for the poor rude world
Hath not her fellow.

Lor. Even fuch a husband

Haft thou of me, as fhe is for a wife.

Jef. Nay, but afk my opinion too of that. Lor. I will anon: first, let us go to dinner. Jef. Nay, let me praise you while I have a ftomach. Lor. No, pray thee, let it ferve for table-talk; Then, howfoe'er thou fpeak'ft, 'mong other things, I fhall digeft it.

Jef. Well, I'll fet you forth.

ACT IV.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

The fenate-house in Venice.

Enter the Duke, the Senators; Anthonio, Baffanio, and Gratiano, at the bar.

Duke.

WHat, is Anthonio here?

Ant. Ready, fo please your Grace.

Duke. I'm forry for thee; thou art come to anfwer A ftony adverfary, an inhumane wretch

Uncapable of pity, void and empty

From dram of mercy.

any

Ant. I have heard,

Your Grace has ta'en great pains to qualify
His rig'rous courfe; but fince he ftands obdurate,
And that no lawful means can carry me

Out of his Envy's reach, I do oppofe

My patience to his fury; and am arm'd

To fuffer, with a quietnefs of fpirit,
The very tyranny and rage of his.

Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court.
Sal. He's ready at the door: he comes, my Lord.
Enter Shylock.

Duke. Make room, and let him ftand before our face.
Shylock, the world thinks, and I think fo too,
That thou but lead'ft this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act; and then 'tis thought,
Thou'lt fhew thy mercy and remorfe more ftrange,
Than is thy ftrange apparent cruelty.

And, where thou now exact'ft the penalty,
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
Thou wilt not only lose the forfeiture,

But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal;
Glancing an eye of pity on his loffes,
That have of late so huddled on his back,
Enough to prefs a royal merchant down;
And pluck commiferation of his state
From braffy bofoms, and rough hearts of flint;
From ftubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtesy.

We all expect a gentle anfwer, Jew.

Shy. I have poffefs'd your Grace of what I purpose;
And by our holy Sabbath have I fworn,
To have the due and forfeit of my bond.
If you deny it, let the danger light
Upon your charter, and your city's freedom!
You'll ask me, why I rather chufe to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats? I'll now answer that,
By faying 'tis my humour; is it answer'd?
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats
To have it bane'd? What, are you answer'd yet?
Some men there are love not a gaping pig;
Some that are mad if they behold a cat;
And others, when the bag-pipe fings i' th' nofe,
Cannot contain their urine for affection *.

that is, they are so affected with it.
L

VOL. II.