Will much impeach the justice of the state; SCENE IV.-Belmont. A room in Portia's Enter Portia, Nerissa, Lorenzo, Jessica, and Balthazar. house. Lor. Madam, although I speak it in your pre sence, You have a noble and a true conceit Of god-like amity; which appears most strongly In bearing thus the absence of your lord. But, if you knew to whom you show this honour, How dear a lover of my lord your husband, The husbandry and manage of my house, my lord's return: for mine own part, I have toward heaven breath'd a secret vow, Until her husband and my lord's return: And there we will abide. I do desire you, The which my love, and some necessity, Lor. Madam, with all my heart; I shall obey you in all fair commands. Por. My people do already know my mind, So fare you well, till we shall meet again. 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, In speed to Padua; see thou render this And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee, Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin'd 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? SCENE V-The same. A Garden. Enter Launcelot and Jessica. 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 damn'd. 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 damn'd 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 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. 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 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. 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 Is reason he should never come to heaven. Lor. Even such a husband Jes. Nay, but ask my opinion too of that. |