To wish it back on you: fare you well, Jeffica. Now, Balthazar, [Exeunt JESSICA and Lorenzo. As I have ever found thee honest, true, So let me find thee ftill: Take this fame letter, In fpeed to Padua; fee 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 But get thee gone; wafte no time in words, I fhall be there before thee. BALTH. Madam, I go with all convenient speed. [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, And wear my dagger with the braver grace; Which I denying, they fell fick and died; And wish, for all that, that I had not kill'd them: That men fhall fwear, I have difcontinued school NER. Why, shall we turn to men? SCENE V. The fame. A Garden. Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA, [Exeunt. 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 speak my agitation of the matter: Therefore be of good cheer; for, truly, I think, you are damın'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 baftard hope, indeed; fo the fins 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 fhun Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother: well, you are gone both ways. JES. I fhall be saved by my husband; he hath made me a Christian. LAUN. Truly, the more to blame he: we were Chrif tians 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 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 fhall 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 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 fhe be lefs than an honeft woman, fhe 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 fhortly turn into filence; and difcourfe grow commendable in none only but parrots. Go in, firrah; bid them prepare for dinner. LAUN. That is done, fir; they have all ftomachs. LOR. Goodly lord, what a wit-fnapper are you! then bid them prepare dinner. LAUN. That is done too, fir; only, cover is the word. LOR. Will you cover then, fir? LAUN. Not fo, fir, neither; I know my duty. LOR. Yet more quarrelling with occafion! Wilt thou show the whole wealth of thy wit in an inftant? 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, fir, it'fhall be ferved in; for the meat, fir, it shall be covered; for your coming in to dinner, fir, why, let it be as humours and conceits fhall govern. [Exit LAUNCELot. 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 JES. Paft all expreffing: It is very meet, Is reafon he should never come to heaven. Why, if two gods fhould play fome heavenly match, And Portia one, there must be something else Pawn'd with the other; for the poor Hath not her fellow. LOR. Even fuch a husband Haft thou of me, as fhe is for a wife. rude world JES. Nay, but afk 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 ftomach. LOR. No, pray thee, let it ferve for table-talk; Then, howfoe'er thou speak'ft, 'mong other things I fhall digeft it. JES. Well, I'll fet 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, fo please your grace. DUKE. I am forry for thee; thou art come to answer A ftony 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 courfe; but fince he stands obdurate, Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose DUKE. Go one, and call the Jew into the court. DUKE. Make room, and let him ftand before our face. Shylock, the world thinks, and I think fo too, And, where thou now exact'ft the penalty, (Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,) |