Hech! the ill luck o' yon man, no a ship come hame; ane foundered at sea, coming fra Tri-po-lis; the pirates scuttled another, an' ane ran ashore on the Goodwins, near Bright-helm-stane, that's in England itsel', I daur say.

Sae he could na pay the three thoosand ducats, an' Shylock had grippit him, an' sought the pund o' flesh aff the breest o' him, puir body." _Sandy Liston._ "He would na be the waur o' a wee bit hiding, yon thundering urang-utang; let the man alane, ye cursed old cannibal." _Christie._ "Poorsha keepit her man but ae hoor till they were united, an' then sent him wi' a puckle o' her ain siller to Veeneece, and Antonio--think o' that, lassies--pairted on their wedding-day." _Lizzy Johnstone, a Fishwife, aged 12._ "Hech! hech! it's lamentable." _Jean Carnie._ "I'm saying, mairriage is quick wark, in some pairts--here there's an awfu' trouble to get a man." _A young Fishwife._ "Ay, is there." _Omnes._ "Haw! haw! haw!" (The fish-wife hides.) _Christie._ "Fill your taupsels, lads and lasses, and awa to Veneece." _Sandy Liston (sturdily)._ "I'll no gang to sea this day." _Christie._ "Noo, we are in the hall o' judgment.

Here are set the judges, awfu' to behold; there, on his throne, presides the Juke." _Flucker._ "She's awa to her Ennglish." _Lizzy Johnstone._ "Did we come to Veeneece to speak Scoetch, ye useless fule ?" _Christie._ "Here, pale and hopeless, but resigned, stands the broken mairchant, Antonio; there, wi scales and knives, and revenge in his murderin' eye, stands the crewel Jew Shylock." "Aweel," muttered Sandy, considerately, "I'll no mak a disturbance on a wedding day." _Christie._ "They wait for Bell--I dinna mind his mind--a laerned lawyer, ony way; he's sick, but sends ane mair laerned still, and, when this ane comes, he looks not older nor wiser than mysel." _Flucker._ "No possible!" _Christie._ "Ye needna be sae sarcy, Flucker, for when he comes to his wark he soon lets 'em ken--runs his een like lightening ower the boend.
'This bond's forfeit.

Is Antonio not able to dischairge the money ?' 'Ay!' cries Bassanio, 'here's the sum thrice told.' Says the young judge in a bit whisper to Shylock, 'Shylock, there's thrice thy money offered thee.

Be mairceful,' says he, out loud.