'But I have set my heart on being the 'little scrubby lawyer's clerk,'' said Busy Bee; 'it is what I am just fit for; and let me see-Fred shall be Antonio, and that will make you plead from your very heart, and you shall have Alex for your Bassanio.'
'But the word. Do you mean to make it fit in with Falstaff and Catherine Seyton?' said Henrietta.
'Let me see,' said Beatrice; 'bond-bondage, jew-jeweller, juniper,-'
'Lawsuit,' said Fred. 'Ay, don't you see, all the scenes would come out of the 'Merchant of Venice.' There is 'law' when the old Jew is crying out for his ducats, and-but halloo!' and Fred stood aghast at the sight of his uncle, whose presence they had all forgotten in their eagerness.
'Traitor!' said Beatrice; 'but never mind, I believe we must have let him into the plot, for nobody else can be Shylock.'
'O, Bee,' whispered Henrietta, reproachfully, 'don't tease him with our nonsense. Think of asking him to study Shylock's part, when he has all that pile of papers on the table.'
'Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house. I am right loth to go;
There is some ill a-brewing to my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.'
Such was Uncle Geoffrey's reply; his face and tone so suddenly altered to the snarl of the old Jew, that his young companions at first started, and then clapped their hands in delighted admiration.
'Do you really know it all?' asked Henrietta, in a sort of respectful awe.
'It won't cost me much trouble to get it up,' said Mr. Geoffrey Langford; 'Shylock's growls stick in one's memory better than finer speeches.'
'Then will you really be so very kind?'
'Provided you will leave the prompter of Monday night on the table this morning,' said Uncle Geoffrey, smiling in that manner which, to a certain degree, removed any feeling of obligation, by making it seem as if it was entirely for his own diversion. Nor could it be denied that he did actually enjoy it.
The party took up their quarters in the study, which really was the only place fit for consultations and rehearsals, since Fred and Alex could not be taken to the maids' workroom, and none of the downstairs apartments could be made subject to the confusion incidental to their preparations. Henrietta had many scruples at first about disturbing Uncle Geoffrey, but his daughter laughed at them all; and they were soon at an end when she perceived that he minded their chattering, spouting, and laughing, no more than if they had been so many little sparrows twittering on the eaves, but pursued the even tenour of his writing uninterruptedly, even while she fitted on his head a yellow pointed cap, which her ingenious fingers had compounded of the lining of certain ugly old curtains.
His presence in this silent state served, too, as a protection in Mrs. Langford's periodical visitations to stir the fire; but for him, she would assuredly have found fault, and probably Beatrice would have come to a collision with her, which would have put an end to the whole scheme.
It formed a considerable addition to Henrietta's list of his avocations, and really by making the utmost of everything he did for other people during that whole week, she made the number reach even to seventy-nine by the next Thursday morn- ing. The most noted of these employments were the looking over a new Act of Parliament with the county member, the curing grandmamma's old gander of a mysterious lameness, the managing of an emigration of a whole family to New Zealand, the guessing a riddle supposed 'to have no answer,' and the mending of some extraordinary spring that was broken in Uncle Roger's new drill. Beatrice was charmed with the list; Aunt Mary said it was delightful to be so precious to every one; and grandpapa, shaking his head at his son, said he was ashamed to find that his family contained such a Jack of all trades; to which Uncle Geoffrey replied, that it was too true that 'all work and no play make Jack a very dull boy.'
The breaking up of the frost, with a succession of sleet, snow and rain, was much in favour of Beatrice and her plans, by taking away all temptation from the boys to engage in out-of-door amusements; and Antonio and Bassanio studied their parts so diligently, that Carey was heard to observe that it might just as well be half year. They had besides their own proper parts, to undertake those of the Princes of Arragon and Morocco, since Queen Bee, willing to have as much of Nerissa as possible, had determined to put their choice, and that of Bassanio, all into the one scene belonging to 'suit.' It was one of those occasions on which she showed little consideration, for she thus gave Portia an immense quantity to learn in only two days; persuading herself all the time that it was no such hard task, since the beautiful speech about mercy Henrietta already knew by heart, and she made no difficulties about the rest. Indeed, Beatrice thought herself excessively amiable in doing all she could to show off her cousin's beauty and acting, whilst taking a subordinate part herself; forgetting that humility is not shown in choosing a part, but in taking willingly that which is assigned us.
Henrietta was rather appalled at the quantity she had to learn, as well as at the prominent part she was to take; but she did not like to spoil the pleasure of the rest with objections, and applied herself in good earnest to her study. She walked about with a little Shakespeare in her hand; she learnt while she was dressing, working, waiting; sat up late, resisting many a summons from her mother to come to bed, and long before daylight, was up and learning again.
The great evening had come, and the audience were thus arranged: grandmamma took up her carpet-work, expressing many hopes to Aunt Roger that it would be over now and out of the children's heads, for they turned the house upside down, and for her part, she thought it very like play-acting. Aunt Roger, returning the sentiment with interest, took out one of the little brown holland frocks, which she seemed to be always making. Uncle Roger composed himself to sleep in the arm-chair for want of his brother to talk to; grandpapa moved a sofa to the front for Aunt Mary, and sat down by her, declaring that they would see something very pretty, and hoping it would not be too hard a nut for his old wits to crack; Jessie, and such of the boys as could not be persuaded to be magnificos, found themselves a convenient station, and the scene opened.
It was a very short one, but it made every one laugh greatly, thanks to Shylock's excellent acting, and the chorus of boys, who greatly enjoyed chasing him across the stage, crying, 'The law, his ducats, and his daughter!'
Then, after a short interval, appeared Portia, a silver arrow in her hair, almost lovely enough for the real Portia; though the alarmed expression in her glowing face was little accordant with the calm dignified self-possession of the noble Venetian heiress. Nerissa, a handkerchief folded squarely over her head, short petticoats, scarlet lambswool worked into her stockings, and a black apron trimmed with bright ribbon, made a complete little Italian waiting-maid; her quick, pert reply to her lady's first faltering speech, seemed wonderfully to restore Portia to herself, and they got on well and with spirit through the description of the suitors, and the choice of the two first caskets. Portia looked excessively dignified, and Nerissa's by-play was capital. Whether it was owing to Bassanio's awkwardness or her own shyness, she did not prosper quite so well when the leaden casket was chosen; Bassanio seemed more afraid of her than rejoiced, and looked much more at Nerissa than at her, whilst she moved as slowly, and spoke in as cold and measured a way, as if it had been the Prince of Morocco who had unfortunately hit upon the right casket.
In the grand concluding scene she was, however, all that could be wished. She really made a very pretty picture in the dark robes, the glowing carnation of her cheek contrasting with the grey wig, beneath which a few bright ringlets still peeped out; one little white hand raised, and the other holding the parchment, and her eyes fixed on the Jew, as if she either imagined herself Portia, or saw her brother in Antonio's case, for they glistened with tears, and her voice had a tremulous pleading tone, which fairly made her grandfather and mother both cry heartily.
'Take, then, thy bond; take thou thy pound of flesh!'
The Duke (little Willy) was in an agony, and was forcibly withheld by Bassanio from crying 'No, he shan't!' Nerissa was so absorbed as even to have forgotten herself; Shylock could hardly keep his countenance up to the necessary expression of malice and obduracy; even Johnny and Dick were hanging with breathless attention on the 'but,' when suddenly there was a general start throughout the party; the door opened; Atkins, with a voice and face full of delight, announced 'Master Roger,' and there entered a young man, in a pea jacket and worsted comforter.
Such confusion, such rapture as ensued! The tumultuous welcomes and handshakings before the sailor had
