“The quality of mercy is not strained,” said Portia, pacing as if lecturing a class. “It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven, upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed. It blesses him that gives and him that receives. It is an attribute to God himself, and earthly power does show most like God’s, when mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, consider this: All of us pray for mercy, and that same prayer teaches us all to render deeds of mercy. So must you mitigate your plea with mercy, or this strict court of Venice will render the full sentence against the merchant.”

“I crave no mercy, my deeds fall upon my head,” said Shylock. “I crave the law, the penalty for my bond.” Two swipes of the knife on the leather sheath.

Portia nodded. “Is he not able to discharge the money?”

“Yes,” called Bassanio, “I tender it for him in court. Yea his bond plus twice the sum, or I will be bound to pay ten times over if need be, or forfeit my hands or my heart. Anything to curb this cruel devil from his will.”

“Shylock should love that,” said I to Jessica. “The way you people love lopping off body parts.” Then to Nerissa I said, “How did Bassanio come to have six thousand ducats suddenly?”

“Nine thousand,” said Nerissa. “When news of Desdemona’s death came, the lawyers released the gold that had been paid to the estate to Portia for the lottery for her hand. She married Bassanio last night in secret.”

“Well, so much for the three caskets.”

“Did you shit in one?”

“Moi?” said I, in perfect fucking French.

“You left a turd in one of the boxes, didn’t you?”

I shrugged. “Not ungarnished. I took my knife and scraped some gold leaf from a table leg over it.”

“You are a most wicked rascal, Pocket.”

“Me? You wanted me to cut her throat.”

“I was feeling melancholy.”

“Red tent?”

“What?”

“Jewish thing.”

“I will stab you in your poxy little ear, Pocket,” said Jessica.

“Shhh,” I shushed them. Bitter harpies. Jessica did have a knife, though.

“It must not be,” said Portia to Bassanio. “There is no power in Venice that can alter an established decree. It would be recorded as a precedent, and many errors will be forced on the state by its example.”

“Oh, wise judge,” said Shylock. “Oh, much honored young judge.”

“Let me look upon the bond.” The bailiff handed it to her; she unfolded it and read. “Shylock, there is thrice thy money offered thee. Will you not accept it and let me tear up this bond?”

“An oath. I have made an oath in heaven and will not perjure my soul. No, not for Venice.”