_Por_. So do I, my lord; They are entirely welcome.

_Lor_. I thank your honour:--For my part, my lord, My purpose was not to have seen you here; But meeting with Solanio by the way, He did entreat me, past all saying nay, To come with him along.

_Sal_. I did, my lord, And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio Commends him to you.

[_Gives_ Ba.s.sANIO _a letter_.

_Bas_. Ere I ope this letter, I pray you tell me how my good friend doth.

_Sal_. Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind: Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there Will show you his estate.

_Gra_. Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome.

Your hand, Solanio. What's the news from Venice?

How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?

I know he will be glad of our success; We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.

_Sal_. 'Would you had won the fleece that he hath lost!

_Por_. There are some shrewd contents in yon same paper, That steal the colour from Ba.s.sanio's cheek; Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the world Could turn so much the const.i.tution Of any constant man.[88] What, worse and worse?-- With leave, Ba.s.sanio; I am half yourself, And I must freely have the half of any thing That this same paper brings you.

_Bas_. O sweet Portia, Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady, When I did first impart my love to you, I freely told you, all the wealth I had Ran in my veins,--I was a gentleman: And then I told you true: and yet, dear lady, Rating myself at nothing, you shall see How much I was a braggart: When I told you My state was nothing, I should then have told you That I was worse than nothing; for, indeed, I have engag'd myself to a dear friend, Engag'd my friend to his mere enemy, To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady; The paper as the body of my friend, And every word in it a gaping wound, Issuing life-blood. But is it true, Solanio?

Have all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit?

From Tripolis, from Mexico, and England, From Lisbon, Barbary, and India?

And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch Of merchant-marring rocks?

_Sal_. Not one, my lord.

Besides, it should appear, that if he had The present money to discharge the Jew, He would not take it: Never did I know A creature that did bear the shape of man, So keen and greedy to confound a man.

He plies the duke at morning, and at night; And doth impeach the freedom of the state If they deny him justice: twenty merchants, The duke himself, and the magnificoes Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him; But none can drive him from the envious plea Of forfeiture, of justice, and his bond.

_Por_. Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?

_Bas_. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man, The best condition'd and unwearied spirit In doing courtesies, and one in whom The ancient Roman honour more appears, Than any that draws breath in Italy.

_Por_. What sum owes he the Jew?

_Bas_. For me, three thousand ducats.

_Por_. What, no more?

Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond; Double six thousand, and then treble that, Before a friend of this description Shall lose a hair through Ba.s.sanio's fault.

First, go with me to church, and call me wife: And then away to Venice to your friend!

For never shall you stay by Portia's side With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold To pay the petty debt twenty times over; When it is paid, bring your true friend along: My maid Nerissa, and myself, mean time, Will live as maids and widows. Come, away; For you shall hence, upon my wedding-day: But let me hear the letter of your friend.

_Bas. (reads.)_

'Sweet Ba.s.sanio, my ships have all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since, in paying it, it is impossible I should live, all debts are cleared between you and me, if I might but see you at my death: notwithstanding, use your pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter.'

_Por_. O love, despatch all business, and be gone.

_Bas_. Since I have your good leave to go away, I will make haste: but, till I come again, No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay, Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twain.

[_Exeunt_.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 81: Sung by Miss POOLE, and Chorus of Ladies.]

[Footnote 82: _So may the outward shows be least themselves_; Ba.s.sanio begins abruptly; the first part of the argument having pa.s.sed in his mind while the music was proceeding.]

[Footnote 83: _--gracious voice_,; Pleasing--winning favour.]

[Footnote 84: _--approve it_; _Id est_, justify it.]

[Footnote 85: _--guiled_; Treacherous--deceitful.]

[Footnote 86: _Fair Portia's counterfeit?_; Counterfeit, which is at present used only in a bad sense, anciently signified a _likeness_, a _resemblance_, without comprehending any idea of fraud.]

[Footnote 87: _--intermission_; Intermission is pause--intervening time--delay.]

[Footnote 88: _--any constant man_.; _Constant_, in the present instance signifies _grace_.]

SCENE IV.--VENICE. THE COLUMNS OF ST. MARK. (c).

_Enter_ SHYLOCK, SALARINO, ANTONIO, _and_ GAOLER.

_Shy_, Gaoler, look to him. Tell not me of mercy;-- This is the fool that lends out money gratis;-- Gaoler, look to him.

_Ant_. Hear me yet, good Shylock.

_Shy_. I'll have my bond; speak not against my bond; 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[89]

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-ey'd 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_ SHYLOCK.

_Salar_. 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.

_Salar_. I am sure the duke Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.