_Shylock_? So brand him, boors and babbling wags, Who scorn him, yet would share his money-bags; Who hate him, yet can stoop to such appeal! Beneath his meekness there's a soul of steel. High-featured, amply-bearded, see he stands Facing the Autocrat; those sinewy hands, Shaped but for clutching--so his slanderers say-- The huckster bait can coldly put away "Blood against bullion." The Jew-baiting band Howl frantic execration o'er the land; Malign and menace, pillage, persecute; Though the heart's hot, the mouth must fain be mute. The edict fulminates, the goad pursues; Proscription, deprivation,--ay, they use All the old tortures, nor are then content, But crown the work with ruthless banishment. And then--then the proud Muscovite seeks grace, And gold, from kinsmen of the harried race! "He would have moneys" from the Hebrew hoard, To swell his state, or whet his warlike sword; Perchance buy heavier scourges for the backs Of lesser Hebrews, whom his wolfish packs Of salaried minions hunt. Take back thine hand, Imperious Autocrat, and understand Gold buys not, rules not, serves not, salves not all. Blood speaks--in favour of the helpless thrall Of tyranny. Here's no tame _Shylock_: he Shall not bend low, and in a bondsman's key, Make o'er his money-bags with unctuous grace To an enthroned enslaver of his race. "Well then, it now appears you need my help". (You--whose trained curs at my poor kinsmen yelp!) "What should I say to you? Should I not say, "Hath a dog money?" Blood's response is--"Nay!" * * * * * A somewhat curious association of names and ideas occurs in last week's _Sporting and Dramatic_, where there is an illustration of some ceremony taking place which is described as "The RAINE's Foundation May Day Celebration." Odd, that this particular RAINE should always fall on the First of May. * * * * * [Illustration: "BLOOD" _VERSUS_ "BULLION." "WELL THEN, IT NOW APPEARS YOU NEED MY HELP: YOU THAT DID VOID YOUR RHEUM UPON MY BEARD, AND FOOT ME, AS YOU SPURN A STRANGER CUR OVER YOUR THRESHOLD; _MONEYS IS YOUR SUIT. WHAT SHOULD I SAY TO YOU?"_--_Merchant of Venice_, Act I., Sc. 3.] * * * * * ODE TO COMPENSATION. (_AFTER_ KIRKE WHITE.) "That blessed word--'Compensation.'" Come Compensation, come! Not in thy terrors clad, But in thy fairest, gentlest guise, Thy "blessed" name but terrifies The "Templar" and the "Rad." Thou must not come as "Right," That is--alas!--"too steep." The Law has put its foot hard down, And "BUNG," so far, is quite done brown; It makes the "Witler" weep! No "Vested Interest," Whereon to found a claim? And after all that we have done To keep the Tories in the run! It is a thundering shame!