LXXXIV. Scene between SHYLOCK and TUBAL.* Shy. HOW OW now, Tubal! what news from Genoa? Have you heard any thing of my backsliding daughter? Tub. I often came where I heard of her, but could not find her. Shy. Why, there, there, there, a diamond gone that cost me two thousand ducats at Frankfort! The curse never fell upon the nation till now! I never felt it before! Two thousand ducats in that and other precious jewels! I wish she lay dead at my fett! No news of them! And I know not what is spent in the search. Loss upon loss. The thief gone with so much, and so much to find the thief; and no satifaction, no revenge; no ill-luck stirring but what lights on my shoulders. Tub. O yes, other men have ill luck too; Antonia as I heard in Genoa Shy. (Interrupting him) What! has he had ill luck? Tub. Has had a ship cast away coming from Tripoli, Shy. Thank fortune! Is it true? Is it true? Tub. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped from the wreck. Shy. I thank you, good Tubal. Good news! Good news! What, in Genoa, you spoke with them. Tub. Your daughter, as heard, spent twenty ducats in one night. Shy. You stick a dagger in me, Tubal. I never suall see my gold again. Twenty ducats in one night! Twenty ducats! O father Abraham! Tub. There came several of Antonia's creditors in my company to Venice, who say he cannot but break. Shy. I am glad on't. I'll plague him, I'li torture him; I am glad on't. Tub. One of them shewed me a ring he had of your daughter for a monkey. Shy. Out upon her; you torture me, Tubal! It was my ruby. I would not have given it for as many monkies as could stand tegether upon the Rialta. # Tub. Antonia is certainly undone. Shy. Ay, ay, there is some comfort in that. Go, Tubal, Shylock had sent Tubal after his daughter, who had eloped fram his house. Antonia was a merchant hated by Shylock engage an officer. Tell him to be ready; I'll be revenged on Antonia; I'll wash my hands to the elbows in his heart's blood. LXXXV. JUBA AND SYPHAX. fub. YPHAX, I joy to meet thee thus alone; O'ercast with gloomy care and discontent : I have not so much of the Roman in me. Jub. Why dost thou cast out such ungenerous terms Against the lords and sovereigns of the world? Dost thou not see mankind fall down before them, And own the force of their superior virtue? Is there a nation in the wilds of Afric, Amidst our barren rocks and burning sands, Syph. Gods! Where's the worth that sets this people up Make human nature shine, reform the soul, Syph. Patience, just Heavens !-Excuse an old man's What are those wond'rous civilizing arts, [warmth. This Romish polish, and this smooth behaviour, up While good, and just, and anxious for his friends, Renouncing sleep, and rest, and food and ease, The pomp and pleasure which his soul can wish, Syph. Believe me, prince, there's not an African Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury. fub. Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern What virtues grow from ignorance, and what from choice, Nor how the hero differs from the brute. sense, But grant that others could with equal glory Heavens! with what strength, what steadiness of mind, And thank the gods that threw the weight upon him! Had not your royal father thought so highly He had not fallen by a slave's hand inglorious; Syph. Abandon Cato. Jub. Syphax, I should be more than twice an orphan, by such a loss. Syph. Ah, there's the tie that binds you! You long to call him father. Marcia's charms Jub. Svphax, your zeal becomes importunate; And talk at large! but learn to keep it in, Lest it should take more freedom than I'll give it. Fub. Alas, the story melts away my soul! fub. His counsels bade me yield to thy directions: Then, Syphax, chide me in severest terms; Vent all thy passion, and I'll stand its shock, When not a breath of wind flies o'er its surface. Syph. Alas! my prince, I'll guide you to your safety. Fub. I do believe thou would'st; but tell me how? Syph. Fly from the fate of Cæsar's foes. fub. My father scorn'd to do it. Syph. And therefore died. fub. Better die ten thousand deaths, Than wound my honour. Syph. Rather say your love. fub. Syphax, I have promised to preserve my temper; Why wilt thou urge me to confess a flame I long have stifled, and would fain conceal? Syph. Believe me, prince, tho' hard to conquer love, 'Tis easy to divert and break its force. Absence might cure it, or a second mistress Jub. 'Tis not the set of features, nor complexion, Syph. How does your tongue grow wanton in her praise. T |