With a wink of his eye His friend made reply In his jocular manner, sly, caustic, and dry, "Still the same boy, Bassanio--never say 'die'! --Well--I hardly know how I shall do't, but I'll try,-- Don't suppose my affairs are at all in a hash, But the fact is, at present I'm quite out of cash; The bulk of my property, merged in rich cargoes, is Tossing about, as you know, in my Argosies, Tending, of course, my resources to cripple,--I 've one bound to England,--another to Tripoli-- Cyprus--Masulipatam--and Bombay; A sixth, by the way, I consigned t'other day, To Sir Gregor M'Gregor, Cacique of Poyais, A country where silver's as common as clay. Meantime, till they tack, And come, some of them, back, What with Custom-house duties, and bills falling due, My account with Jones Loyd and Co. looks rather blue; While, as for the 'ready,' I'm like a Church-mouse,-- I really don't think there's five pounds in the house. But, no matter for that, Let me just get my hat, And my new silk umbrella that stands on the mat, And we'll go forth at once to the market--we two,-- And try what my credit in Venice can do; I stand well on 'Change, and, when all's said and done, I Don't doubt I shall get it for love or for money." They were going to go, When, lo! down below, In the street, they heard somebody crying, "Old Clo'!" --"By the Pope, there's the man for our purpose!--I knew We should not have to search long. Solanio, run you, --Salarino,--quick!--haste! ere he get out of view, And call in that scoundrel, old Shylock the Jew!" With a pack, Like a sack Of old clothes, at his back, And three hats on his head, Shylock came in a crack, Saying, "Rest you fair, Signior Antonio!--vat, pray, Might your vorship be pleashed for to vant in ma vay?" --"Why, Shylock, although, As you very well know, I am what they call 'warm,'--pay my way as I go, And, as to myself, neither borrow nor lend, I can break through a rule, to oblige an old friend; And that's the case now--Lord Bassanio would raise Some three thousand ducats--well,--knowing your ways, And that nought's to be got from you, say what one will, Unless you've a couple of names to the bill, Why, for once, I'll put mine to it, Yea, seal and sign to it-- Now, then, old Sinner, let's hear what you'll say As to 'doing' a bill at three months from to-day? Three thousand gold ducats, mind--all in good bags Of hard money--no sealing-wax, slippers, or rags?"