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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.”
“Then this bond is forfeit,” said Portia. “And lawfully the Jew may claim a pound of flesh to be cut off him nearest the merchant’s heart. Shylock, take thrice thy money, and bid me tear the bond.”
“Take it, you muleheaded ninny!” came a shout from alarmingly close by and was followed by a great rise across the crowd of similar calls.
I looked at Jessica, who had her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with dismay. “Slipped out,” she explained.
“?‘Honor thy mother and thy father,’ doesn’t it say in your book?” I said.
“Aye, a full chapter after the first lesson of the Bible, which is ‘Don’t shag the bloody serpent,’ ” she said.
“Fair point, well made,” said I.
“Who is that?” asked Nerissa.
“She are Shylock’s daughter,” said Drool.
“She looks like a boy.”
“Aye,” said the oaf. “She’s a apprentice pirate.”
“What are you?”
“Apprentice fool.”
“She’s the voice you’ll use, Drool,” I whispered to the giant.
Out on the courtroom floor, Shylock pressed on: “No, Your Honor, you know the law and appear a worthy judge; proceed to judgment. By my soul, I swear, there is no power in the tongue of man to alter me. I stand here on my bond.”
“Idiot,” I whispered to my retinue.
Antonio stepped forward, jaw set. “Most heartily I beseech the court to give judgment, no word of man will turn the Jew.”
“So be it,” said Portia. “Prepare thy bosom for his knife.”
“Wise judge,” said Shylock. “Oh, excellent young man.”
“Bind him,” said Portia.
Antonio then seemed to lose whatever resolve he had found, because he began to faint. Iago and Bassanio caught him. Bailiffs brought in a chair, which was set in front of the dais. Gasps and shouts ranging from “Show mercy!” to “Damn the Jew devil!” rang through the crowd.
“Have you a scale to weigh the flesh?” asked Portia.
“I do,” said Shylock.
“And have you a surgeon to stanch the blood so he does not bleed to death?”
“I thought I’d just carve and see how it went,” said Shylock. “My daughter, she could have married a surgeon, and I would have one here. But no—punch in my heart—she is of her own mind. And so no.”
“So it is my fault if Antonio bleeds to death?” Jessica said. “That’s a squirming stein of squid spooge.”
“I adore you,” I said.
“Yeah, right, bugger off,” said the pirate Jess.
“Proceed then, Jew,” said Portia.
Bailiffs took Antonio and bound him to the chair, while he went on about loving Bassanio and how the boy shouldn’t feel bad that he was going to die, nor blame himself, that it was other forces, and his own doing, that caused it. Honestly, I wasn’t paying attention.
“What is Portia up to?” I asked Nerissa.
“I think she’d hoped to talk Shylock out of his revenge.”
“I’d say that plan has gone solidly tits up.”
“I think she overestimated the persuasive abilities she honed bargaining with shoe salesmen. Truth be told, though, she is talented. They’d all be barefoot if the trial had gone in that direction.”
Shylock stropped his knife two more strokes on the leather sheath, then moved up on Antonio to lay the blade across his bare chest.
“Wait!” said Portia.
“Wait!” said Bassanio.
“Wait!” said Iago.
“Wait!” said I.
“You go,” said Portia to Bassanio.
“After you,” said Iago to Portia.
“Go ahead,” said I. Actually, I was just going to request that Shylock dull the knife a bit so it would be more painful. For all his noble civility, Antonio had been complicit in murdering my Cordelia and me, not to mention giving the order to kill Shylock, and no doubt Jessica if he’d had the chance. But it appeared that the others would draw it out.
“Antonio,” said Bassanio. “I am married to a wife which is as dear to me as life itself and all the world, but I would here sacrifice her and all to save you, my friend.”
Portia threw out a hip, betraying her womanly shape beneath the man’s clothes. “So, you would offer up your wife to Shylock in place of your friend, Bassanio?”
“Not for the pound of flesh part, just for the night, I thought.”
Even Shylock looked at Bassanio like he’d lost his mind.
“She is most beautiful and smells of rosebuds,” added Bassanio.
“I’m cutting him,” said Shylock.
“Wait!” said Portia. “While this bond gives you a pound of flesh, it allows you no blood. So you may take your pound of flesh, but by the laws of Venice, if you spill one drop of Christian blood in the process, then your life will be forfeit and all of your lands and goods shall go to the state.”
“This is the law?” asked Shylock.
“It is,” said Portia.
“Then I’ll have the nine thousand ducats, and let Antonio go.”
“No!” said Portia. “The Jew shall have all justice, and only the penalty.”
“Fine,” said Shylock. “I’ll take this fellow’s wife for the night.”
“That is not part of the bond. Even Bassanio may not have his wife for the night. For several nights.”
“That is the law?” asked Bassanio.
“It is,” answered Portia. “So, Shylock, prepare to cut off the flesh, but shed no blood, nor take thee less than one pound by even a jot, nor more by the weight of a hair, but one pound exactly.”
“Exactly?” said Shylock. He looked to the doge. “The young judge is just making this up as he goes along. Give me my principal and let me go.”
“I have it ready, here,” said Bassanio.
“He has refused it in open court,” said Portia. “He shall have his bond, and nothing more, to be taken at his peri
