I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond:
Thou call’dst 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-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, R

Sala. 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 delivered from his forfeitures
Many that have at times made moan to me
Therefore he hates me.

Sala. 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 denied,
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
Tomorrow to my bloody creditcr. Crosses, L
Well, Gaoler, on:-Pray Heav'n Bassanio come
To see me pay this debt, and then I care not! (Exeunt, L.

SCENE IV.--Portia's House at Belmont.
Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, Portia, NERISSA, and BALI HA-

ZAR, R.
Lor. Madam, although I speak it in your presence,
You have a noble and a true conceit
Of god-like amity; which appears most strongly

your husband,

In bearing thus the absence of your

lord.
But if you knew to whom you show this hor pur,
How true a gentleman you send relief,
How dear a lover of my

lord
I know you would be prouder of the work,
Than customary bounty can enforce you.

Por. I never did repent une 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 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,
Arnd 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. I wish your ladyship all heart's content.

Por. I thank you for your wish, and am well pleasea To wish it back on you : fare you well, Jessica.

[Exeunt Jessica and Lorenzo, i. Now, Balthazar,

(Balthazar advances, t. 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 rende 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 speci Into 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. (Evit, L.

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. 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 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, 1 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 Christian.

Laun. Truly, the more to blame he: we were Christians enough 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.

Jes. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say; here be comes.

[Crosses, L.

to

Enter LORENZO, L. 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 för me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter.

Lor. [Crosses, c.] 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 thy fellows; bid them cover the table, serve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner.

Laun. (R.) 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.

[Erit, R.
Lor. Oh, 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,
Garnished 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.

Lor. Even such a husband
Hast thou of me, as she is for a wife.
Jes. Nay, but ask my opinion, too, of that.

DUET.-LORENZO and JESSICA.
Jes In vows of everlasting truth,

You waste your idle hours, fonil youth,
But leave me once, and I should find
That out of sight were out of mind

Lor.

Ah, do thyself no wrong, my dear,
Affect no coy nor jealous fear;
Each beauteous object I might see,
Would but inspire a thought of thee.
Thus absence warms with fiercer flame

The fine affections of the soul :
As distance points with surer aim

The faithful needle to its darling pole. [Eteunt, L

Both,

END OF ACT III.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-A Court of Justice in Venice.
The DUKE, Magnificoes, ANTONIO, BASSANIO, SOLANIO

SALARINO, GRATIANO, and Attendants, discovered.
Duke. [Seated, c.] 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 taken 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 armed
To suffer, with a quietness of spirit,
The very tyranny and rage of his.

Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court.
Sol. He's ready at the door: he comes, my lord.

Enter SHYLOCK, R.
Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our face.
Shylock, the world, thinks, and I think so too,
That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act; and then, 'tis thought
Thou'lt show thy mercy, and remorse, more strange
Thea is thy strange apparent cruelty: