Chapter: SCENE 5.

The same. A garden.

[Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA.]

LAUNCELOT.
Yes, truly; for, look you, the sins of the father are to
be laid upon the children; therefore, I promise you, I fear you.
I was always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of
the matter; therefore be of good cheer, for truly I think you are
damn'd. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good, and
that is but a kind of bastard hope neither.

JESSICA.
And what hope is that, I pray thee?

LAUNCELOT.
Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you not,
that you are not the Jew's daughter.

JESSICA.
That were a kind of bastard hope indeed; so the sins of my
mother should be visited upon me.

LAUNCELOT.
Truly then I fear you are damn'd both by father and
mother; thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into
Charybdis, your mother; well, you are gone both ways.

JESSICA.
I shall be saved by my husband; he hath made me a Christian.

LAUNCELOT.
Truly, the more to blame he; we were Christians enow
before, e'en as many as could well live one by another. This
making of Christians will raise the price of hogs; if we grow all
to be pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the
coals for money.

JESSICA.
I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say; here he comes.

[Enter LORENZO.]

LORENZO.
I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you
thus get my wife into corners.

JESSICA.
Nay, you need nor fear us, Lorenzo; Launcelot and I are
out; he tells me flatly there's no mercy for me in heaven,
because I am a Jew's daughter; and he says you are no good member
of the commonwealth, for in converting Jews to Christians you
raise the price of pork.

LORENZO.
I shall answer that better to the commonwealth than you
can the getting up of the negro's belly; the Moor is with child
by you, Launcelot.

LAUNCELOT.
It is much that the Moor should be more than reason; but
if she be less than an honest woman, she is indeed more than I
took her for.

LORENZO.
How every fool can play upon the word! I think the best
grace of wit will shortly turn into silence, and discourse grow
commendable in none only but parrots. Go in, sirrah; bid them
prepare for dinner.

LAUNCELOT.
That is done, sir; they have all stomachs.

LORENZO.
Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you! Then bid them
prepare dinner.

LAUNCELOT.
That is done too, sir, only 'cover' is the word.

LORENZO.
Will you cover, then, sir?

LAUNCELOT.
Not so, sir, neither; I know my duty.

LORENZO.
Yet more quarrelling with occasion! Wilt thou show the
whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray thee understand a
plain man in his plain meaning: go to thy fellows, bid them cover
the table, serve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner.

LAUNCELOT.
For the table, sir, it shall be served in; for the meat,
sir, it shall be covered; for your coming in to dinner, sir, why,
let it be as humours and conceits shall govern.

[Exit.]

LORENZO.
O dear discretion, how his words are suited!
The fool hath planted in his memory
An army of good words; and I do know
A many fools that stand in better place,
Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word
Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica?
And now, good sweet, say thy opinion,
How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio's wife?

JESSICA.
Past all expressing. It is very meet
The Lord Bassanio live an upright life,
For, having such a blessing in his lady,
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth;
And if on earth he do not merit it,
In reason he should never come to heaven.
Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match,
And on the wager lay two earthly women,
And Portia one, there must be something else
Pawn'd with the other; for the poor rude world
Hath not her fellow.

LORENZO.
Even such a husband
Hast thou of me as she is for a wife.

JESSICA.
Nay, but ask my opinion too of that.

LORENZO.
I will anon; first let us go to dinner.

JESSICA.
Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach.

LORENZO.
No, pray thee, let it serve for table-talk;
Then howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things
I shall digest it.

JESSICA.
Well, I'll set you forth.

[Exeunt.]

 At Portia's garden in Belmont, Lancelot talks with Jessica . Always a riot, Lancelot says that Jessica is damned to hell because she's the daughter of a Jew. There's hope for her in the possibility that she's not actually her father's daughter, but Jessica points out that if that's true, she'd be punished for her mother's sins instead. Lancelot agrees that Jessica is damned either way. But she points out that she'll be saved by her husband, who will make her Christian when he marries her. The trouble with this, says Lancelot, is that there are enough Christians already, and more Christians will mean more pork-eaters, which will raise the price of pork, regardless of who has come around to a different view of God. Lorenzo then enters and fakes concern over Lancelot getting cozy with Jessica, his wife. He jokes that Lancelot has already gotten too comfortable with a Moorish woman, who now carries the clown's child. Lancelot, unfazed, says the girl is so promiscuous that anybody could be the father. Then we get lots of quipping about Lancelot calling the house to prepare dinner, and some talk about how the clown never speaks straight. Lancelot leaves and Lorenzo asks Jessica what she thinks of Portia. Jessica is full of praise for the girl, whom she claims has no equal on earth. Lorenzo is a little taken aback by Jessica's warm words and teases that Jessica has in him a husband as worthy as Portia is a wife. They have a crude back-and-forth about Jessica's willingness to praise Lorenzo before dinner, as she won't be able to stomach praising him after. Finally they exit together to go eat dinner.

