Then Honorius says,—and pray, pray, mark what Honorius says, or you will never comprehend Act V.,—then Honorius says, taking Andronic's previous advice about flying, "I will go away, and fight the Adriatic pirates." Now, pray, don't forget that. I quite distress myself in praying you not to forget that,—to wit,—"Honorius goes away to fight the Adriatic pirates."
Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
ACT V.
This, of course, is the knifing act.
Seated is Shylock before an hour-glass, and trying to count the grains of sand as they glide through.
Oh, if you only knew the big secret!
You remember that in that original play Antonio's ships are lost merely. Bah! we manage better in this matter: the ships come home, but they are empty,—emptied by the pirates; though why those Adriaticians did not confiscate the ships is even beyond the Greek Chorus, who says, "They were very polite."
At last all the sand is at rest.
Crack,—as punctual as a postman comes Andronic; and as the Venetians are revolting against the flesh business, about which they seem to know every particular, Andronic brings a guard of the just Doge's soldiers to keep the populace quiet while the business goes on;—all of which behavior on the merchant's part my friend the Chorus pronounces to be stupid and suicidal.
Then comes such a scene!—Andronic calling for Ginevra, and the Jew calling for his own.