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In the Rialto you have rated me
your threshold; monies is your suit.
Ant. I am as like to call thee so again, To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too. If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not As to thy friends; (for wlien did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his friend ?) But lend it rather to thine enemy; Who if he break, thou may'st with better face Exact the penalty.
Shy. Why, look you, how you storm! I would be friends with you, and have your love, Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with, Supply your present wants, and take no doit of usance for my monies, and you'll not hear me : This is kind I offer.
Ant. This were kindness,
Shy. This kindness will I shew : Go with me to a notary, seal me there Your single bond ; and, in a merry sport, If you repay me not on such a day, In such a place, such stun, or sums, as are Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit Be nominated for an equal pound Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken In what part of your body pleaseth me. Ant. Content, in faith ; I'll seal to such a bond,
there is much kindness in the Jew.
Bass. You shall not seal to such a bond for me, I'll rather dwell* in my necessity.
Ant. Why, fear not, man ; I wiil not forfeit it;
Shy. O father Abraham, what these Christians are ;
Ant. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.
Shy. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's;.
[Exit. Ant. Hie thee, gentle Jew. This Hebrew will turn Christian ; he grows kind.
Bass. I like not fair terms, and a villain's mind.
Ant. Come on; in this there can be no dismay, My ships come home a month before the day.
[Ěxeunt. ACT II. SCENE I.-Belmont.-A Room in PORTIA's House. Flourish of Cornets.--Enter the Prince of Morocco, and his Train ; Portia, Nerissa, and other of her Attendants.
Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion,
+ Allusion to the eastern custom for lovers to testify their passion by cutting themselves in their mistresses' sight.
To prove whose blood is reddest, his, or mine.
Por. In terms of choice I am not solely led
Mor. Even for that I thank you :
Por. You must take your chance; And either not attempt to choose at all, Or swear, before you choose,-if you choose
wrong, Never to speak to lady afterward In way of marriage ; therefore be advised t. Mor. Nor will not ; come, bring me unto my
chance. Por. First, forward to the temple; after dinner: Your hazard shall be made. Mor. Good fortune then!
(Cornets. To make me bless't, or cursed'st among men.
(Exeunt. * Terrified.
+ Not precipitate.
SCENE II.-Venice.--A Street.
Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO. Laun. Certainly, my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew, my master :—The fiend is at mine elbow; and tempts me, saying to me, Gobbo, Laura celot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away: My conscience says,-no; take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo; or, as afore. said, honest Launcelot Gobbo; do not run; scorn running with thy heels :-Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack; via! says the fiend ; away; says the fiend, for the heavens; rouse up a brave mind, says the fiend, and run. Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very, wisely to me,-my honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son,-or rather an honest woman's son ;--for, indeed, my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of taste ;-well, my conscience says,-Launcelot, budge not; budge, says the fiend; budge not, says my conscience : conscience, say, I, you counsel well: fiend, say I, you counsel well : to be ruled by my
conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who, (God bless the mark !) is a kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnation ; and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew :-The fiend gives the more friendly counsel. I will run, fiend; my heels are at your commandment, I will run.
Enter old GOBBO, with a Basket. Gob. Master, young man, you, I pray you; which is the way to master Jew's?'
Laun. (Aside.] O heavens, this is my true begotten father! who, being more than sand-blind, highgravel blind, knows me not:-I will try conclusions with hini.
Gob. Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's ?
Laun. Turn up on your right hand, at the next turning, but, at the next turning of all, on your
left; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house.
Gob. By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him, or no!
Laun. Talk you of young master Launcelot ? Mark me now; (Aside.] Now will I raise the
waters : Talk you of young master Launcelot ?
Gob. No master, Sir, but a poor man's son ; his father, though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God be thank'd, well to live.
Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of young inaster Launcelot.
Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, Sir.
Laun. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I be. Beech you ; talk you of young master Launcelot ?
Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.
Laun. Ergo, master Launcelot; talk not of master Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman (accord. ing to fates and destinies, and such odd sayings, the sisters three, and such branches of learning,) is indeed, deceased; or, as you would say, in plain terms, gone to heaven.
Gob. Marry, God forbid! The boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop.
Laun. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel-post, a staff, or a prop!-Do you know me, father ?
Gob. Alack the day, I know you not, young gen. teman : but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, (God rest his soul !) alive or dead?
Laun. Do you not know me, father?
Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son: give me your blessing : truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long, a man's son may ; but, in the end, truth will out.
Gob. Pray you Sir, stand up ; I am sure, you are not Launcelot, my boy.
Laun. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but give me your blessing; I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be.
Gob. I cannot think you are my son.
Laun. I know not what I shall think of that : bat I am Launcelot, the Jew's man, and, I am sure, Margery, your wife, is my mother. VOL. II.