Before they think of us.

Ner. Shall they fee us?

Por. They fhall, Neriffa; but in fuch a habit,
That they fhall think we are accomplished
With what we lack. I'll hold thee any wager,
When we are both apparell'd 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 ftride; and fpeak of frays,
Like a fine bragging youth; and tell quaint lies,
How honourable ladies fought my love,
Which I denying, they fell fick and dy'd,
I could not do withal then I'll repent,
And with, for all that, that I had not kill'd them.
And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell;

That men fhall fwear, I've difcontinued school
Above a twelvemonth. I have in my mind
A thousand raw tricks of these bragging jacks,
Which I will practise.

Ner. Shall we turn to men?

Por. Fie, what a queftion'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 hafte away,
For we must measure twenty miles to-day.

SCENE VI.

Enter Launcelot and Jeffica.

[Excunt.

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 fpeak my agitation of the matter: therefo e be of good cheer; for truly, I think you are damn'd:

Ι

damn'd: there is but one hope in it that can do you any good, and that is but a kind of baftard hope nei

ther.

Jef. 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. Jef. That were a kind of bastard hope indeed. So the fins of my mother fhould be vifited upon me.

Laun. Truly, then, I fear, you are damn'd both by father, and mother; thus when you fhun Scylla, your father, you fall into Charybdis, your mother: well, you are gone both ways.

Jef. Ifhall be faved by my husband; he hath made me a chriftian.

Laun. Truly, the more to blame he; we were chriftians enough before, c'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 fhall not shortly have a rafher on the coals for mony.

Enter Lorenzo.

Jef. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you fay. Here he comes.

Lor. I fhall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you thus get my wife into corners.

Jef. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo; Launcelot and I are out; he tells me flatly, there is no mercy for me in heav'n, because I am a Jew's daughter; and he says, you are no good member of the commonwealth; for, in converting Jews to chriftians, you raife the price of pork.

Lor. I fhall anfwer that beter 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 less than an honeft woman, fhe is indeed more than I took her for.

VOL. I.

Gg

Lor.

Lor. How every fool can play upon the word! 1 think, the best grace of wit will shortly turn into filence, and difcourfe grow commendable in none but parrots. Go in, firrah, bid them prepare for dinner.

Laun. That is done, Sir; they have all ftomachs. Lor. Good lord! what a wit-fnapper 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 fo, Sir, neither; I know my duty.

Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occafion! wilt thou fhew 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, Sir, it fhall be ferv'd in ; for
the meat, Sir, it shall be covered: for your coming in
to dinner, Sir, why, let it be as humours and conceits
fhall govern.
[Exit. Laun.
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
A many fools that ftand in better place,
Garnifh'd like him, that for a trickfy word
Defy the matter. How far'ft thou, Jeffica?
And now, good fweet, fay thy opinion,
How doft thou like the lord Befanio's wife?
Jef. Paft all expreffing: it is very meet,
The lord Baffanio live an upright life.
For, having fuch a bleffing in his lady,
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth:
And if on earth he do not merit it,

In reafon he should never come to heav'n.
Why, if two Gods fhould play fome heav'nly match,
And on the wager lay two earthly women,

How his words are fuited.] I believe the meaning is. What a feries or fuite of words he has

independent of meaning; how one word draws on another without relation to the matter.

And

And Portia one, there must be something else
Pawn'd with the other; for the poor rude world
Hath not her fellow.

Lor. Ev'n fuch a husband

Haft thou of me, as fhe is for a wife,

Jef. Nay, but afk my opinion too of that.

Lor. I will anon.

Jef. Nay, let me

mach.

First let us go to dinner,

praise you, while I have a sto

Lor. No, pray thee, let it ferve for table-talk; Then, howfoe'er thou fpeak'ft, 'mong other things,

I fhall digeft it.

Jef. Well, I'll fet you forth.

[Exeunt,

A C T IV. SCENE I,

The Senate-boufe in Venice,

Enter the Duke, the Senators; Anthonio, Baffanio, and Gratiano, at the Bar.

DUKE.

WHAT, is Anthonio here?

Anth. Ready, fo please your Grace, Duke. I'm forry for thee; thou art come to answer A ftony adverfary, an inhuman wretch

Uncapable of pity, void and empty

From any dram of mercy.

Anth. I have heard,

Your Grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify
His rig'rous courfe; but fince he ftands obdurate,
And that no lawful means can carry me
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppofe
My patience to his fury; and am arm'd

Gg 2

Το

To fuffer with a quietness of fpirit,
The very tyranny and rage of his.

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

Enter Shylock.

Duke. Make room, and let him ftand before our face.

Shylock, the world thinks, and I think fo too,
That thou but lead'ft this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act; and then 'tis thought,
Thou'lt fhew thy mercy and remorfe more ftrange,
Than is thy ftrange apparent cruelty.

And, where thou now exact'ft the penalty,
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
Thou wilt not only lofe the forfeiture,
But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal;
Glancing an eye of pity on his loffes,
That have of late fo huddl'd on his back,
Enough to prefs a royal merchant down;

And

9 Apparent.] That is, fecming; Grecian empire on the Terra fir

not real.

1 Where for whereas. 2 Enough to prefs a royal mercbant down.] We are not to imagine the word royal to be only a ranting founding Epithet. It is ufed with great propriety, and fhews the Poet well acquainted with the hiftory of the People whom he here brings upon the ftage For when the French and the Venetians, in the beginning of the thirteenth century, had won Conftantinople, the French, under the emperor Henry, endeavoured to extend their conquefts into the provinces of the

ma; while the Venetians, who were masters of the fea, gave liberty to any fubject of the Republic, who would fit out reffels, to make themselves matters of the ifles of the Archipelago, and other maritime places; and to enjoy their conquests in fovereignty, only doing homage to the Republic for their several principalities. By virtue of this licence, the Sanudo's, the Jufiniani, the Grimaldi, the Summaripo's, and others, all Venetian merchants, erected_principalities in feveral places of the Archipe lago (which their defcendants en

joyed