The old man sank in his chair, thinking of the past events. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind from all that would haunt him. Just recently, a man had taken Shylock’s daughter and a large portion of his wealth! The filthy Christian had so easily stolen the two most important things that Shylock had in his possession. And how dishonorable of his daughter! To go and elope, it was all so disgusting. There was so much for the old Jew to deal with, he was taunted daily by the Christians. Constantly mocked for his work, his profession, the job that had put food on his table. There was no equality, it seemed to the Jew that everything was unfair, and all because of the religion he followed, all because he praised his god in a different way.
“I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands,
organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same
food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases,
heal’d by the same means, warm’d and cool’d by the same winter
and summer, as a Christian is?”
The old man repeated the speech he had gave to the pestering Christians. A bitter chuckle escaped from dry lips.
“How cruel, this world. Why should I be the one to suffer, I have been loyal, and faithful, yet none of my prayers have been answered-”
Shylock stopped mid-sentence, he tilted his head. Surely he wasn’t going insane, but he swore he heard someone at the door.
“What man finds it suitable to come to one’s house at this time of night?”