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. 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.

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.
Balth. Madam, I go with all convenient speed. [Exit.
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 in such a habit,
That they shall think we are accomplished
With that we lack. I'll hold thee any wager,
When we are both accoutred like young men,
I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two,

And wear my dagger with the braver grace;
And speak between the change of man and boy
With a reed voice; and turn two mincing steps
Into a manly stride; and speak of frays,
Like a fine bragging youth; and tell quaint lies,
How honourable ladies sought my love,
Which I denying, they fell sick and died;
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 lies I'll tell,
That men shall swear, I have discontinued school
Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind
A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks,

1 I could not help it.

Which I will practise.

Ner.

Why, shall we turn to men? Por. Fie! what a question 's that, If thou wert near a lewd interpreter. 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.

SCENE V.-The Same. A Garden.

Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA.

[Exeunt.

Laun. 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. 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 damned 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 enow before; e'en 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. Enter LORENZO.

Jes. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say: here he comes.

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's no mercy for me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter; and he says, you are no good member of the commonwealth,

for in converting Jews to Christians, you raise the price of pork.

Lor. I shall 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 should be more than reason; but if she be less than an honest woman, she is, indeed, more than I took her for.

Lor. How every fool can play upon the word! I think, the best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence, and discourse grow commendable in none only but parrots.-Go in, sirrah: bid them prepare for dinner.

Laun. That is done, sir; they have all stomachs. Lor. Goodly lord, what a wit-snapper 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 so, sir, neither; I know my duty.

Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occasion? Wilt thou show 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, serve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner.

Laun. For the table, sir, it shall be served in; for the meat, sir, it shall be covered; for your coming in to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humours and conceits shall govern. [Exit LAUNCELOT. Lor. O, dear discretion, how his words are suited! The fool hath planted in his memory

An army of good words; and I do know
A many fools, that stand in better place,
Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word
Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica?
And now, good sweet, say thy opinion;
How dost thou like the lord Bassanio's wife?
Jes. Past all expressing. It is very meet,
The lord Bassanio live an upright life,
For, having such a blessing in his lady,
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth;
And, if on earth he do not mean it, then,
In' reason he should never come to heaven.

1 So one of the quartos; the folio and f. e., read in place of "then, in," "" it is."

Why, if two gods should play some heavenly 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 such a husband

Hast thou of me, as she is for a wife.

Jes. Nay, but ask my opinion, too, of that.
Lor. I will anon; first, let us go to dinner.

Jes. Nay, let me praise you, while I have a stomach.
Lor. No, pray thee, let it serve for table talk;
Then, howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things
I shall digest it.

Jes.

Well, I'll set you forth. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-Venice.

A Court of Justice.

Enter the DUKE; the Magnificoes; ANTONIO, BASSANIO, GRATIANO, SALARINO, SALANIO, and others.

Duke. What, is Antonio here?

Ant. Ready, so please your grace.

Duke. I am sorry for thee: thou art come to answer A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch

Uncapable of pity, void and empty

From any dram of mercy.

Ant.

I have heard,

Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify

His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate,
And that no lawful means can carry me

Out of his envy's' reach, I do oppose

My patience to his fury, and am arm'd
To suffer with a quietness of spirit,

The very tyranny and rage of his.

Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court. Sulan. He's ready at the door. He comes, my lord. Enter SHYLOCK.

Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our

face.

Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too,

1 Hatred.

That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act; and then, 't is thought,
Thou 'lt show thy mercy and remorse, more strange
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty;

And where thou now exact'st 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 losses,
That have of late so huddled on his back,
Enow to press a royal merchant down,
And pluck commiseration of his state

From brassy bosoms, and rough hearts of flint,
From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtesy.

We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.

Shy. I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose; And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn

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 choose to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats? I'll not answer that:
But, say, it is 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 baned? 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 sings i' the nose,
Cannot contain their urine for affection:
Masters of passion sway2 it to the mood

Of what it likes, or loathes. Now, for your answer:
As there is no firm reason to be render'd,
Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;
Why he, a harmless necessary cat;
Why he, a bollen" bag-pipe; but of force

Must yield to such inevitable shame,

1 The old copies have "loose." 2 The old copies have "sways." Knight reads the passage thus:

for affection

Master of passion, sways it, &c. 3 woollen in f. e. Bollen means swollen.