“You two,” said Antonio, still not looking up. “You must find Shylock, in the city, not on the Jewish island, and you must make a plea to him to meet with me. Not here, and not on the Rialto. Someplace private, down one of the streets where there are no windows.”

“What will you say to him?” asked Salarino.

“I will say nothing, as I shall not be there. Instead I will be at Signora Veronica’s, where many witnesses shall see me. But you two shall ask the Jew to give me grace, more time to make my bond. Two months, a month, a week even.”

“And what if he says no?”

“Then you will kill him and dump his body in the canal. Be quick, be quiet about it, and leave quickly in different directions. Do not come to see me until the next day, where you will find I have made a drunken spectacle of myself before passing out in the brothel.”

Salarino looked to Gratiano, who looked to Bassanio, who shrugged, as if to say, “I have my part to do, you must do yours.” They did not answer, did not jump to be agreeable and frisky at the prospect of helping their friend. Yes, they were arrogant and strutted and bullied their way around Venice, and they had drawn blades in fights, even drawn blood. But they were not killers. Salanio and Lorenzo, they had been the cruelest of the crew.

Antonio let his chair fall forward and when the legs touched the floor he came out of it with a violent fist to the table that made the wine splash and the bread jump. “Do you have questions? Friends?”

“Um,” said Gratiano, “we are most willing and able to do what you ask, but shouldn’t it be done by proper ruffians? We are gentlemen, and surely not suited for such dark doings.”

“If you hire ruffians, then you will have to kill the ruffians to eliminate the ruffians. You see, a proper gentleman is efficient in his business. What would you rather do, face off with two experienced cutthroats, or take down one feeble Jewish dog?”

“The Jewish dog,” said Salarino with a pout.

“But if Shylock dies the bond passes to his daughter, then a cousin from there,” said Gratiano. “The Jew told us this himself.”

Antonio sighed. “And they will have to find his daughter, which will buy me time, and if they find her, then you can hide her again, at the bottom of a canal.”

“Are there Jewish dogs?” asked Bassanio. “I would think that it would be hard for them to keep to the kosher diet? I’ve never known a dog that wouldn’t eat a pork rib when given it.”

“Ah, my beautiful Bassanio,” said Antonio, shaking his head. “Go see your lady. I need to have a lie-down in the dark.”