JES. I fhall be fav'd by my husband; he hath made me a christian.

LAUN. Truly, the more to blame he; we were chriftians enough before, e'en as many as could well live one by ano. ther: this making of chriftians will raise the price of hogs : if we grow all to be pork-ea ers, we shall not fhortly have a rasher on the coals for mony.

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 heav'n, because I am a Jew's daughter; and he fays, you are no good member of the commonwealth; for, in converting Jews to Christians, 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 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 fhortly turn into filence, and difcourse grow commendable in nothing but parrots. Go in, firrah, bid them prepare for dinner.

LAUN. That is done, fir; they have all ftomachs.

LOR. Good 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 fhew the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray thee underftand 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 shall 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 shall 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 stand in better place,
Garnish'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 Baffanio's wife?
JES. Paft all expreffing: it is very meet,
The lord Baffanio live an upright life.
For, having such 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 heaven.
Why, if two gods should play fome heavenly match,
And on the wager lay two earthly women,

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

LOR. Even fuch a husband

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

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.

ACT IV.

[Exeunt.

SCENE 1.

The fenate-houfe in Venice.

Enter the Duke, the fenators; 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 adversary, 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 stands obdurate,
And that no lawful means can carry me

Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose
My patience to his fury; and am arm'd
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 stand before our face.

Shylock, the world thinks, and I think fo-too,

That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act; and then 'tis thought,
Thou'lt fhew thy mercy and remorse more strange,
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 lose 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 huddled on his back,
Enough to prefs a royal merchant down;
And pluck commiferation of his state
From braffy boffoms, and rough hearts of flint;
From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtefie.

We all expect a gentle anfwer, Jew.

SHY. I have poffefs'd your grace of what I purpose, And by our holy Sabbath have I fworn,

To have the due and forfeit of my bond.
If you deny it, let the danger light
Upon your charter, and your city's freedom!
You'll ask me, why I rather chufe to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats? I'll not answer that
But fay, it is my humour, is it answer'd?
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats
To have it baned? what are you answer'd yet?
Some men there are, love not a gaping pig;
Some, that are mad, if they behold a cat;
And others, when the bag-pipe fings i'th' nose,

Cannot contain their urine; for affection,
Mafter of paffion, sways it to the mood

Of what it likes, or loaths. Now, for your anfwer:
As there is no firm reason to be render'd,
Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;
Why he, a harmless neceffary cat;
Why he, a woollen bag-pipe; but of force
Muft yield to fuch inevitable shame,.
As to offend, himself being offended;
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
More than a lodg'd hate and a certain loathing
I bear Anthonio, that I follow thus

A lofing suit against him. Are you answer'd?
BASS. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
T'excufe the current of thy cruelty.

SHY. I am not bound to please thee with my answer.
BASS. Do all men kill the thing they do not love?
SHY. Hates any man the thing he would not kill?
BASS. Ev'ry offence is not a hate at first.

SHY. What, would'st thou have a ferpent fting thee twice ANTH. I pray you, think, you question with a Jew..

You may as well go stand upon the beach,

And bid the main flood 'bate his ufual height.
You may as well use question with the wolf,
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb..
You may as well forbid the mountain pines
To wag their high tops, and to make no noise,
When thy are fretted with the gufts of heav'n.
You may as well do any thing most hard,

As feek to foften that, (than which what's harder!);
His Jewish heart. Therefore, I do beseech you,
Make no more offers, ufe no farther means;