Shakespeare in the Digital Age

Act III

ACT 3.

SCENE I. Venice. A street

Enter SALANIO and SALARINO



SALANIO



Now, what
news on the Rialto?



SALARINO



Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd that Antonio hath

a ship of rich lading wrecked on the narrow seas;

the Goodwins, I think they call the place; a very

dangerous flat and fatal, where the carcasses of many

a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip

Report be an honest woman of her word.



SALANIO



I would she were as
lying a gossip in that as ever


knapped ginger or made her neighbours believe she

wept for the death of a third husband. But it is

true, without any slips of prolixity or crossing the

plain highway of talk, that the good Antonio, the

honest Antonio,--O that I had a title good enough

to keep his name company!--



SALARINO



Come, the full stop.



SALANIO



Ha! what sayest thou? Why, the end
is, he hath


lost a ship.



SALARINO



I
would it might prove the end of his losses.



SALANIO



Let me say 'amen' betimes, lest the
devil cross my


prayer, for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew.



Enter SHYLOCK



How now, Shylock! what news among
the merchants?



SHYLOCK



You
know, none so well, none so well as you, of my


daughter's flight.



SALARINO



That's certain: I, for my part,
knew the tailor


that made the wings she flew withal.



SALANIO



And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was

fledged; and then it is the complexion of them all

to leave the dam.



SHYLOCK



She is damned for it.



SALANIO



That's certain, if the devil may be her judge.



SHYLOCK



My own flesh and blood to rebel!



SALANIO



Out upon it, old carrion! rebels it at these years?



SHYLOCK



I say, my daughter is my flesh and
blood.



SALARINO



There is more difference between thy flesh and hers

than between jet and ivory; more between your bloods

than there is between red wine and rhenish. But

tell us, do you hear whether Antonio have had any

loss at sea or no?



SHYLOCK



There I have another bad match: a
bankrupt, a


prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the

Rialto; a beggar, that was used to come so smug upon

the mart; let him look to his bond: he was wont to

call me usurer; let him look to his bond: he was

wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy; let him

look to his bond.



SALARINO



Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take

his flesh: what's that good for?



SHYLOCK



To bait fish withal: if it will
feed nothing else,


it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and

hindered me half a million; laughed at my losses,

mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my

bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine

enemies; and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath

not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs,

dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with

the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject

to the same diseases, healed by the same means,

warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as

a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed?

if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison

us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not

revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will

resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian,

what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian

wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by

Christian example? Why, revenge. The villany you

teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I

will better the instruction.



Enter a Servant



Servant



Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his house and

desires to speak with you both.



SALARINO



We have been up and down to seek
him.



Enter TUBAL



SALANIO



Here comes another of the tribe: a third cannot be

matched, unless the devil himself turn Jew.



Exeunt
SALANIO, SALARINO, and Servant



SHYLOCK



How now, Tubal! what news from
Genoa? hast thou


found my daughter?



TUBAL



I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her.



SHYLOCK



Why, there, there, there, there! a
diamond gone,


cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! The curse

never fell upon our nation till now; I never felt it

till now: two thousand ducats in that; and other

precious, precious jewels. I would my daughter

were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear!

would she were hearsed at my foot, and the ducats in

her coffin! No news of them? Why, so: and I know

not what's spent in the search: why, thou loss upon

loss! the thief gone with so much, and so much to

find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge:

nor no in luck stirring but what lights on my

shoulders; no sighs but of my breathing; no tears

but of my shedding.



TUBAL



Yes, other men have ill luck too: Antonio, as I

heard in Genoa,--



SHYLOCK



What, what, what? ill luck, ill
luck?



TUBAL



Hath an argosy cast away, coming from Tripolis.



SHYLOCK



I thank God, I thank God. Is't
true, is't true?



TUBAL



I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck.



SHYLOCK



I thank thee, good Tubal: good
news, good news!


ha, ha! where? in Genoa?



TUBAL



Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, in one

night fourscore ducats.



SHYLOCK



Thou stickest a dagger in me: I
shall never see my


gold again: fourscore ducats at a sitting!

fourscore ducats!



TUBAL



There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my

company to Venice, that swear he cannot choose but break.



SHYLOCK



I am very glad of it: I'll plague
him; I'll torture


him: I am glad of it.



TUBAL



One of them showed me a ring that he had of your

daughter for a monkey.



SHYLOCK



Out upon her! Thou torturest me,
Tubal: it was my


turquoise; I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor:

I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys.



TUBAL



But Antonio is certainly undone.



SHYLOCK



Nay, that's true, that's very
true. Go, Tubal, fee


me an officer; bespeak him a fortnight before. I

will have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for, were

he out of Venice, I can make what merchandise I

will. Go, go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue;

go, good Tubal; at our synagogue, Tubal.



Exeunt



SCENE II. Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.



Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA, and
Attendants



PORTIA



I pray you, tarry: pause a day or
two


Before you hazard; for, in choosing wrong,

I lose your company: therefore forbear awhile.

There's something tells me, but it is not love,

I would not lose you; and you know yourself,

Hate counsels not in such a quality.

But lest you should not understand me well,--

And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought,--

I would detain you here some month or two

Before you venture for me. I could teach you

How to choose right, but I am then forsworn;

So will I never be: so may you miss me;

But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin,

That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes,

They have o'erlook'd me and divided me;

One half of me is yours, the other half yours,

Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,

And so all yours. O, these naughty times

Put bars between the owners and their rights!

And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so,

Let fortune go to hell for it, not I.

I speak too long; but 'tis to peize the time,

To eke it and to draw it out in length,

To stay you from election.



BASSANIO



Let me choose

For as I am, I live upon the rack.



PORTIA



Upon the rack, Bassanio! then
confess


What treason there is mingled with your love.



BASSANIO



None but that ugly treason of
mistrust,


Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love:

There may as well be amity and life

'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love.



PORTIA



Ay, but I fear you speak upon the
rack,


Where men enforced do speak anything.



BASSANIO



Promise me life, and I'll confess
the truth.



PORTIA



Well then, confess and live.



BASSANIO



'Confess' and 'love'

Had been the very sum of my confession:

O happy torment, when my torturer

Doth teach me answers for deliverance!

But let me to my fortune and the caskets.



PORTIA



Away, then! I am lock'd in one of
them:


If you do love me, you will find me out.

Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof.

Let music sound while he doth make his choice;

Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end,

Fading in music: that the comparison

May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream

And watery death-bed for him. He may win;

And what is music then? Then music is

Even as the flourish when true subjects bow

To a new-crowned monarch: such it is

As are those dulcet sounds in break of day

That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear,

And summon him to marriage. Now he goes,

With no less presence, but with much more love,

Than young Alcides, when he did redeem

The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy

To the sea-monster: I stand for sacrifice

The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives,

With bleared visages, come forth to view

The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules!

Live thou, I live: with much, much more dismay

I view the fight than thou that makest the fray.



Music, whilst BASSANIO comments on the caskets
to himself



SONG.

Tell me where is fancy bred,

Or in the heart, or in the head?

How begot, how nourished?

Reply, reply.

It is engender'd in the eyes,

With gazing fed; and fancy dies

In the cradle where it lies.

Let us all ring fancy's knell

I'll begin it,--Ding, dong, bell.



ALL



Ding, dong, bell.



BASSANIO



So may the outward shows be least
themselves:


The world is still deceived with ornament.

In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,

But, being seasoned with a gracious voice,

Obscures the show of evil? In religion,

What damned error, but some sober brow

Will bless it and approve it with a text,

Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?

There is no vice so simple but assumes

Some mark of virtue on his outward parts:

How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false

As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins

The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars;

Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk;

And these assume but valour's excrement

To render them redoubted! Look on beauty,

And you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight;

Which therein works a miracle in nature,

Making them lightest that wear most of it:

So are those crisped snaky golden locks

Which make such wanton gambols with the wind,

Upon supposed fairness, often known

To be the dowry of a second head,

The skull that bred them in the sepulchre.

Thus ornament is but the guiled shore

To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf

Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,

The seeming truth which cunning times put on

To entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold,

Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee;

Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge

'Tween man and man: but thou, thou meagre lead,

Which rather threatenest than dost promise aught,

Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence;

And here choose I; joy be the consequence!



PORTIA



[Aside] How all the other
passions fleet to air,


As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair,

And shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy! O love,

Be moderate; allay thy ecstasy,

In measure rein thy joy; scant this excess.

I feel too much thy blessing: make it less,

For fear I surfeit.



BASSANIO



What find I here?



Opening the leaden casket



Fair Portia's counterfeit! What
demi-god


Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes?

Or whether, riding on the balls of mine,

Seem they in motion? Here are sever'd lips,

Parted with sugar breath: so sweet a bar

Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs

The painter plays the spider and hath woven

A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men,

Faster than gnats in cobwebs; but her eyes,--

How could he see to do them? having made one,

Methinks it should have power to steal both his

And leave itself unfurnish'd. Yet look, how far

The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow

In underprizing it, so far this shadow

Doth limp behind the substance. Here's the scroll,

The continent and summary of my fortune.



Reads



You that choose not by the view,

Chance as fair and choose as true!

Since this fortune falls to you,

Be content and seek no new,

If you be well pleased with this

And hold your fortune for your bliss,

Turn you where your lady is

And claim her with a loving kiss.

A gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave;

I come by note, to give and to receive.

Like one of two contending in a prize,

That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes,

Hearing applause and universal shout,

Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt

Whether these pearls of praise be his or no;

So, thrice fair lady, stand I, even so;

As doubtful whether what I see be true,

Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you.



PORTIA



You see me, Lord Bassanio, where
I stand,


Such as I am: though for myself alone

I would not be ambitious in my wish,

To wish myself much better; yet, for you

I would be trebled twenty times myself;

A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich;

That only to stand high in your account,

I might in virtue, beauties, livings, friends,

Exceed account; but the full sum of me

Is sum of something, which, to term in gross,

Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised;

Happy in this, she is not yet so old

But she may learn; happier than this,

She is not bred so dull but she can learn;

Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit

Commits itself to yours to be directed,

As from her lord, her governor, her king.

Myself and what is mine to you and yours

Is now converted: but now I was the lord

Of this fair mansion, master of my servants,

Queen o'er myself: and even now, but now,

This house, these servants and this same myself

Are yours, my lord: I give them with this ring;

Which when you part from, lose, or give away,

Let it presage the ruin of your love

And be my vantage to exclaim on you.



BASSANIO



Madam, you have bereft me of all
words,


Only my blood speaks to you in my veins;

And there is such confusion in my powers,

As after some oration fairly spoke

By a beloved prince, there doth appear

Among the buzzing pleased multitude;

Where every something, being blent together,

Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy,

Express'd and not express'd. But when this ring

Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence:

O, then be bold to say Bassanio's dead!



NERISSA



My lord and lady, it is now our
time,


That have stood by and seen our wishes prosper,

To cry, good joy: good joy, my lord and lady!



GRATIANO



My lord Bassanio and my gentle
lady,


I wish you all the joy that you can wish;

For I am sure you can wish none from me:

And when your honours mean to solemnize

The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you,

Even at that time I may be married too.



BASSANIO



With all my heart, so thou canst
get a wife.



GRATIANO



I thank your lordship, you have
got me one.


My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours:

You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid;

You loved, I loved for intermission.

No more pertains to me, my lord, than you.

Your fortune stood upon the casket there,

And so did mine too, as the matter falls;

For wooing here until I sweat again,

And sweating until my very roof was dry

With oaths of love, at last, if promise last,

I got a promise of this fair one here

To have her love, provided that your fortune

Achieved her mistress.



PORTIA



Is this true, Nerissa?



NERISSA



Madam, it is, so you stand
pleased withal.



BASSANIO



And do you, Gratiano, mean good
faith?



GRATIANO



Yes, faith, my lord.



BASSANIO



Our feast shall be much honour'd
in your marriage.



GRATIANO



We'll play with them the first
boy for a thousand ducats.



NERISSA



What, and stake down?



GRATIANO



No; we shall ne'er win at that
sport, and stake down.


But who comes here? Lorenzo and his infidel? What,

and my old Venetian friend Salerio?



Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERIO, a
Messenger from Venice



BASSANIO



Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome
hither;


If that the youth of my new interest here

Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave,

I bid my very friends and countrymen,

Sweet Portia, welcome.



PORTIA



So do I, my lord:

They are entirely welcome.



LORENZO



I thank your honour. For my part,
my lord,


My purpose was not to have seen you here;

But meeting with Salerio by the way,

He did entreat me, past all saying nay,

To come with him along.



SALERIO



I did, my lord;

And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio

Commends him to you.



Gives
Bassanio a letter



BASSANIO



Ere I ope his letter,

I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth.



SALERIO



Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind;

Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there

Will show you his estate.



GRATIANO



Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid
her welcome.


Your hand, Salerio: what's the news from Venice?

How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?

I know he will be glad of our success;

We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.



SALERIO



I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost.



PORTIA



There are some shrewd contents in
yon same paper,


That steals the colour from Bassanio's cheek:

Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the world

Could turn so much the constitution

Of any constant man. What, worse and worse!

With leave, Bassanio: I am half yourself,

And I must freely have the half of anything

That this same paper brings you.



BASSANIO



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 engaged myself to a dear friend,

Engaged 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, Salerio?

Have all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit?

From Tripolis, from Mexico and England,

From Lisbon, Barbary and India?

And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch

Of merchant-marring rocks?



SALERIO



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.



JESSICA



When I was with him I have heard him swear

To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen,

That he would rather have Antonio's flesh

Than twenty times the value of the sum

That he did owe him: and I know, my lord,

If law, authority and power deny not,

It will go hard with poor Antonio.



PORTIA



Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?



BASSANIO



The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,

The best-condition'd and unwearied spirit

In doing courtesies, and one in whom

The ancient Roman honour more appears

Than any that draws breath in Italy.



PORTIA



What sum owes he the Jew?



BASSANIO



For me three thousand ducats.



PORTIA



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 paid, 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:

Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer:

Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear.

But let me hear the letter of your friend.



BASSANIO



[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 I, 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.



PORTIA



O love, dispatch all business, and be gone!



BASSANIO



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

SCENE III.
Venice. A street.

Enter
SHYLOCK, SALARINO, ANTONIO, and Gaoler



SHYLOCK



Gaoler, look to him: tell not me of mercy;

This is the fool that lent out money gratis:

Gaoler, look to him.



ANTONIO



Hear me yet, good Shylock.



SHYLOCK



I'll have my bond; speak not against my bond:

I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond.

Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst 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.



ANTONIO



I pray thee, hear me speak.



SHYLOCK



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-eyed 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



SALARINO



It is the most impenetrable cur

That ever kept with men.



ANTONIO



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.



SALARINO



I am sure the duke

Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.



ANTONIO



The duke cannot deny the course of law:

For the commodity that strangers have

With us in Venice, if it be denied,

Will much impeach the justice of his 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.

Well, gaoler, on. Pray God, Bassanio come

To see me pay his debt, and then I care not!



Exeunt



SCENE IV.
Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.



Enter
PORTIA, NERISSA, LORENZO, JESSICA, and BALTHASAR



LORENZO



Madam, although I speak it in your presence,

You have a noble and a true conceit

Of godlike amity; which appears most strongly

In bearing thus the absence of your lord.

But if you knew to whom you show 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.



PORTIA



I never did repent for doing good,

Nor shall not now: for in companions

That do converse and waste the time together,

Whose souls do bear an equal yoke Of love,

There must be needs a like proportion

Of lineaments, of manners and of spirit;

Which makes me think that this Antonio,

Being the bosom lover of my lord,

Must needs be like my lord. If it be so,

How little is the cost I have bestow'd

In purchasing the semblance of my soul

From out the state of hellish misery!

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 breathed 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 will we abide.

 I do desire you

 Not to deny this imposition; 

The which my love and some necessity

 Now lays upon you.



LORENZO



Madam, with all my heart;

I shall obey you in all fair commands.



PORTIA



My people do already know my mind,

And will acknowledge you and Jessica

In place of Lord Bassanio and myself.

And so farewell, till we shall meet again.



LORENZO



Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you!



JESSICA



I wish your ladyship all heart's content.



PORTIA



I thank you for your wish, and am well pleased

To wish it back on you: fare you well Jessica.



Exeunt
JESSICA and LORENZO



Now, Balthasar,

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 imagined 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.



BALTHASAR



Madam, I go with all convenient speed.



Exit



PORTIA



Come on, Nerissa; I have work in hand

That you yet know not of: we'll see our husbands

Before they think of us.



NERISSA



Shall they see us?



PORTIA



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 killed 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,

Which I will practise.



NERISSA



Why, shall we turn to men?



PORTIA



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.



Exeunt



SCENE V.
The same. A garden.



Enter
LAUNCELOT and JESSICA  


LAUNCELOT



Yes, truly; for, look you, the sins
of the father


are to be laid upon the children: therefore, I

promise ye, 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.



JESSICA



And what hope is that, I pray thee?



LAUNCELOT



Marry, you may partly hope that
your father got you


not, that you are not the Jew's daughter.



JESSICA



That were a kind of bastard hope, indeed: so the

sins of my mother should be visited upon me.



LAUNCELOT



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.



JESSICA



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

Christian.



LAUNCELOT



Truly, the more to blame he: we
were Christians


enow before; e'en as many as could well live, one by

another. This making 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



JESSICA



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



LORENZO



I shall grow jealous of you
shortly, Launcelot, if


you thus get my wife into corners.



JESSICA



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

says, you are no good member of the commonwealth,

for in converting Jews to Christians, you raise the

price of pork.



LORENZO



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.



LAUNCELOT



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.



LORENZO



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.



LAUNCELOT



That is done, sir; they have all stomachs.



LORENZO



Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper
are you! then bid


them prepare dinner.



LAUNCELOT



That is done too, sir; only 'cover' is the word.



LORENZO



Will you cover then, sir?



LAUNCELOT



Not so, sir, neither; I know my duty.



LORENZO



Yet more quarrelling with
occasion! Wilt thou show


the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray

tree, 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.



LAUNCELOT



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



LORENZO



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 cheerest thou, Jessica?

And now, good sweet, say thy opinion,

How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio's wife?



JESSICA



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

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.



LORENZO



Even such a husband

Hast thou of me as she is for a wife.



JESSICA



Nay, but ask my opinion too of that.



LORENZO



I will anon:
first, let us go to dinner.



JESSICA



Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach.



LORENZO



No, pray
thee, let it serve for table-talk;


' Then, howso'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things

I shall digest it.



JESSICA



Well, I'll set you forth.



Exeunt

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