_As curtain rises, Portia and Gratiano discovered standing and looking down the street, Gratiano pointing._ _Gratiano_ Now Lady Portia look a long way off And see if you can recognize a friend. _Portia_ A friend? One person only do I see-- A man, quite old, who hobbles with a staff. _Gratiano_ He is the one I mean. Now look again And try to recognize his face, his beard. _Portia_ Why, is it not old Shylock? Sure it is. And met most opportunely, on my word. Now, dear Gratiano, with this icy heart We must needs waste a score or two of words. _Gratiano_ To make him help his daughter Jessica? _Portia_ That is the task. _Gratiano_ Too much for Hercules. (_Enter Shylock._) _Portia_ A moment, Shylock, of your precious time. You must remember meeting me before. _Shylock_ Remember, nay then, how could I forget The noble judge who spoke so clean and fair And took away on quibbles all I owned. _Portia_ Not all, good Shylock, half of it remained. _Shylock_ Oh, true, I thank you for the half you left. I thank that kindly merchant, him that begged The Duke to quite remit the City's fine Which never would have done him any good-- I thank him for accepting what was all He could have claimed, the half of my estate. _Portia_ In trust---- _Shylock_ I know. In trust until I die. And trust Antonio to eat it up. Is it not known that when he takes a risk Of more than common danger and doth lose, He makes a record that he did invest A part of my belongings in the venture? Belike by now there's not a ducat left. For that however I have naught but joy Because it means that she who was my daughter And that Lorenzo who's her paramour Will, when I die, inherit penury. _Gratiano_ But if Antonio's trust should disappear They still would come by all you leave yourself; 'Twas thus the Duke decreed. _Shylock_ I know a thing Or two that I could tell and make the face Of son Lorenzo somewhat longer grow. _Gratiano_ Faith, often did Lorenzo say to us "The Jew will find a way to cheat me yet." _Shylock_ To cheat him out of what? The gold he earned By robbing me, debauching my--my child? _Portia_ Nay, let us not be quarreling, old man, I have a message that I want to give. _Shylock_ No message from my daughter--none to me.