gaming-table, and attending every horse-race in the kingdom. He first reduced betting into an art, and made White's the grand market for wagers. He is at length such an adept in this art, that whatever turn things take, he can never lose. This he has effected, by what he has taught the world to call hedging a bet. There is scarce a contested election in the kingdom, which will not end to his advantage; and he has lately sent over commissions to Paris to take up bets on the recall of the parliament. He was the first that struck out the above-mentioned practice of pitting; in which he is so thoroughly versed, that the death of every person of quality may be said to bring him a legacy: and he has so contrived the bets on his own life, that (live or die) the odds are in his favour.

0.

N° 16. THURSDAY, MAY 16, 1754.

Altiùs omnem

Expediam primâ repetens ab origine famam. VIRG.
I'll trace the current upwards, as it flows,
And mark the secret spring, whence first it rose.

TO MR. TOWN.

Sir, Oxford, May 12, 1754. Your last week's paper, on the subject of bets, put me in mind of an extract I lately met with in some news-papers, from the Life of Pope Sixtus V. translated from the Italian of Gregorio Leti by the Reverend Mr. Farnworth.' The passage is as

follows:

It was reported in Rome, that Drake had taken and plundered St. Domingo in Hispaniola, and carried off an immense booty. This account came in a private letter to Paul Secchi, a very considerable merchant in the city, who had large concerns in

those parts, which he had insured. Upon receiving this news, he sent for the insurer Samson Ceneda, a Jew, and acquainted him with it. The Jew, whose interest it was to have such a report though false, gave many reasons why it could not possibly be true; and at last worked himself up into such a passion, that he said, I'll lay you a pound of my flesh it is a lie. Secchi, who was of a fiery hot temper, replied, I'll lay you a thousand crowns against a pound of your flesh, that it is true. The Jew accepted the wager, and articles were immediately executed betwixt them, That if Secchi won, he should himself cut the flesh with a sharp knife from whatever part of the Jew's body he pleased. The truth of the account was soon confirmed; and the Jew was almost distracted, when he was informed, that Secchi had solemnly sworn he would compel him to the exact literal performance of his contract. A report of this transaction was brought to the Pope, who sent for the parties, and being informed of the whole affair, said When contracts are made, it is just they should be fulfilled, as this shall. Take a knife therefore, Secchi, and cut a pound of flesh from any part you please of the Jews's body. We advise you, however, to be very careful; for if you cut but a scruple more or less than your due, you shall certainly be hanged.'

6

What induced me to trouble you with this, is a remark made by the editor, that the scene between Shylock and Antonio in the Merchant of Venice is borrowed from this story.' I should perhaps have acquiesed in this notion, if I had not seen a note in the Observations on Spenser's Faerie Queene, by Mr. T. Warton of Trinity College', where he seems to have discovered the real source from which Shakespeare drew his fable, which (he informs us) is founded upon an ancient ballad, The admirers of Shakspeare are obliged to him for this curious discovery:

but as Mr. Warton has only given some extracts, they would undoubtedly be glad to see the whole. This ballad is most probably no where to be met with but in the Ashmolean Museum in this University, where it was deposited by that famous antiquary Anthony à Wood: I have therefore sent you a faithful transcript of it; and you must agree with me, that it would do you more credit, as a Connoisseur to draw this hidden treasure into light, than if you had discovered an Otho or a Niger.

A SONG.

Shewing the crueltie of Gernutus a Jew, who lending to a marchant an hundred crownes, would have a pound of his fleshe because he could not pay him at the time appointed.

In Venice town not long agoe,

A cruel Jew did dwell,
Which lived all on usurie,
As Italian writers tell.
Gernutus called was the Jew,
Which never thought to die,
Nor never yet did any good
To them in streets that lye.
His life was like a barrow hogge,
That liveth many a day,
Yet never once doth any good,
Until men will him slay.

Or like a filthy heap of dung,
That lyeth in a hoord;
Which never can do any good,
Till it be spread abroad.

So fares it with this usurer,

He cannot sleep in rest,

For feare the theefe doth him pursue
To pluck him from his nest.

His heart doth think on many a wile,
How to deceive the poore;

His mouth is almost full of mucke,
Yet still he gapes for more.

His wife must lend a shilling,

For every weeke a penny,

Yet bring a pledge that's double worth,
If that you will have any.

And see (likewise) you keep your day,

Or else you loose it all:

This was the living of his wife,

Her cow she doth it call.

Within that citie dwelt that time-
A merchant of great fame,
Which being distressed, in his need
Unto Gernutus came.

Desiring him to stand his friend,
For twelve moneth and a day,
To lend to him a hundred crownes,
And he for it would pay.

Whatsoever he would demand of him
And pledges he should have:
No, (qd. the Jew with fleering lookes)
Sir, aske what you will have.

No penny for the loane of it

For one yeere you shall pay;
You may do me as good a turne,
Before my dying day.

But we will have a merry jeast
For to be talked long:

You shall make me a bond (quoth he)
That shall be large and strong.

And this shall be the forfeiture,
Of your owne fleshe a pound,
If you agree, make you the bond,
And here's a hundred crownes.

The second part of the Jew's crueltie; setting forth the mercifulnesse of the Judge towards the Merchant.

With right good will the merchant said,
And so the bond was made,

When twelve months and a day drew on
That back it should be payd.

The merchants ships were all at sea,
And money came not in;

Which way to take, or what to doe,

To thinke he doth begin.

And to Gernutus straight he comes
With cap and bended knee,
And sayd to him of curtesie
I pray you bear with me.

My day is come, and I have not
The money for to pay:
And little good the forfeiture
Will doe you I dare say.

With all my heart, Gernutus said
Command it to your minde:
In things of bigger weight than this
You shall me readie finde.

He goes his way; the day once past
Gernutus doth not slacke

To get a serjeant presentlie,
And clapt him on the backe.

And layd him into prison strong,
And sued his bond withall;
And when the judgment day was come,
For judgment he doth call.

The merchant's friends came thither fast,
With many a weeping eye,
For other means they could not find,
But he that day must dye.

Some offered for his hundred crownes
Five hundred for to pay;

And some a thousand, two or three,
Yet still he did denay.

And at the last, ten thousand crownes
They offered him to save,

Gernutus said, I will no gold,

My forfeit I will have.

A pound of flesh is my demand,

And that shall be my hyre,

Then said the judge, yet my good friend

Let me of you desire,

To take the fleshe from such a place

As yet you let him live;

Doe so, and lo a hundred crownes,
To thee here will I give.

No, no, quoth he, no judgment here
For this it shall be tryde,

For I will have my pound of fleshe
From under his right side.