“If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation; and he rails On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe If I forgive him!” But, while abhorring the Christian in his heart, he outwardly fawns upon him, awaiting an opportunity of gratifying his hunger for vengeance. This soon presents itself. Antonio, the upright and proud Venetian merchant, proposes to stand security for a friend who wants to borrow three thousand ducats of the Jew, on Antonio’s bond. Even while negotiating the loan, the Christian reviles the Jew as “an evil soul, a villain with a smiling cheek,” a whited sepulchre. Shylock now reminds him of all the insults and invectives he used to heap upon him in the Exchange: “You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, and yet you solicit my help.” The Christian answers: “I am as like to call thee so again, To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too,” and asks him to lend the money as to an enemy. The Jew pretends to forgive and forget; but he takes Antonio at his word, and playfully demands a forfeit “for an equal pound of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken in what part of your body pleaseth me.” The bond is sealed, and it proves a fatal bond. Antonio’s ships are wrecked at sea, and, when the term expires, he finds himself unable to pay the Jew. Shylock, like Barabas, has an only daughter, Jessica, whom he cherishes and trusts above all human beings. All the love that he can spare from his ducats is lavished upon this daughter. Fair as Abigail, Jessica lacks the filial loyalty and sweet grace which render the daughter of Barabas so charming a contrast to her father. Jessica is “ashamed to be her father’s child.” She detests him, and to her her own home “is hell.” Enamoured of a Christian youth, she enters into a shameless intrigue with him to deceive and rob her father, and, disguised as a boy, she runs away with her lover, carrying a quantity of gold and jewels from the paternal hoard. The discovery of his daughter’s desertion throws Shylock, as it did Barabas, into despair. He never felt his nation’s curse until now. While in this mood he hears of Antonio’s losses and rejoices exceedingly thereat. The news of his enemy’s mishap acts as a salve for his own domestic woes. His old grudge against the Christian, embittered by his recent misfortune, steels him against mercy. He recalls the indignities and injuries of which he had been the recipient at Antonio’s hands, all because he was a Jew, and vows to exact the full forfeit: to have the Christian’s flesh. Antonio is taken to prison and implores Shylock for pity; but the latter grimly answers: “I’ll have my bond. Thou call’dst me dog before thou hadst a cause; but since I am a dog, beware my fangs. I will have my bond.”