SCENE I.

_Venice. A street._

_Enter_ SHYLOCK, _followed by a rabble of shouting citizens_.

FIRST CITIZEN. Shylock, how speeds thy business at the court? Where is the pound of flesh thou covetest?

SECOND CITIZEN. How likest thou the judge from Padua?

THIRD CITIZEN. Eh, Jew, an upright judge! thou hast my lord The duke to thank for thy poor life. Had I But been thy judge a halter had been thine, And thou had’st swung in’t, yet, beshrew my life, ’Twere pity that good Christian hemp were stretch’d To hang a misbegotten knave like thee.

FOURTH CITIZEN. Shylock, thou infidel, thou should’st have had The lash on thine old back ten score of times Ere they had suffer’d thee from out the court.

FIFTH CITIZEN. A beating shall he have, e’en now, the knave. [_Beats_ SHYLOCK.

SHYLOCK [_striking about him angrily_] Aye! kill me, dogs of Christians, an’ ye will! Meseems the Jew hath no more leave to tread The stones on Christian streets; he may not breathe The air a Christian breathes, nor gaze uncheck’d Upon the Christian’s sky; he hath no part Or lot in anything that is, unless A Christian please to nod the head. I hate Ye, brood of Satan that ye are! May all The plagues of Egypt fall upon ye, dogs Of Christians; all the pains--

FOURTH CITIZEN. Nay, gentle Jew, ’Tis said thou must become a Christian, straight; Old Shylock, turn perforce, a “Christian dog!” Now, greybeard infidel, how lik’st thou this?

SHYLOCK. Eternal torments blister him that asks. [_Exit_ SHYLOCK, _raving_.

SECOND CITIZEN. A sweet-fac’d Christian will our Shylock make. I would that I might be his cònfessor, To lay such swingeing penance on the knave As scarce would leave him space to sup his broth Amid the pauses of his punishment. [_Exeunt citizens, with shouts._