Preys and Predators 3 Love Binds, Family Destroy Chapter 26

 

26. 

 

According to the will of her late father, Portia cannot marry a man of her own choosing. Instead, she must make herself available to all suitors and accept the one who chooses "rightly" from among "three chests of gold, silver, and lead."

“My father is dead. God bless his soul.” Portia Belmont was grieving for the sudden death of her father. “He should not have drunk that night.”

Portia’s father had fallen off the horse on the ride and was fatally injured. He did not make it past the night. However, he was a careful man who had planned well for the estate and his only daughter. The mother had passed on years ago. He stated in his will that his daughter would inherit the estate upon her marriage to a suitable man; three was the given number.

“I am not pawning my daughter off, but whoever marries her will be rewarded with great wealth.” Portia was his love then, as a daughter and trading partner; he involved her in all his discussions, frowned upon by many others, but they respected the Lord. She was not the prettiest one, but her beauty was in her eloquence in discussing the trade terms. And in dictating the terms of the contracts.

“Portia, my dear, you should be a lawyer in the courts of law.” Lord Belmont told her.

“If I were, Father. Then you will need a better lawyer to handle your trade contracts.” Portia reminded her father. “The contract with Lord Dante Montague was well written, but you avoided the finer details, which could cause you damage.”

“It was an oversight, my dear. I am getting old, and my sight is failing.” Lord Belmont smiled. “I am glad you were there. Lord Dante Montague is a shrewd trader, but he does deal fairly.”

“Father, in the realm of trading. We are all inclined to win all and not share any.” Portia smiled.

Portia’s thoughts faded off on her last conversation with her father before he took the fatal ride. Nerissa, a good friend of Portia, tries to comfort the grieving lady and tells her that surely her father knew what he was doing; whoever the man might be who finally chooses "rightly," surely, he will be "one who shall rightly love."

“I am not keen to discuss my wedding choices now.” Portia looked at Nerissa. “Today I am still in mourning over my father’s passing.”

“Your future awaits you, Portia,” Nerissa told the friend. “We are the weaker who need the protection of the men.”

“I am uncertain,” Portia said. “The man I loved may not be able to protect me. Nor do I think he will be on the list of suitors. Nerissa, you are to be wedded. Gratiano is a good man. You must know what it feels like to be wedded ... to the man you love.”

“Portia, I am your friend and maiden in waiting. Whom I may wed does not matter here.” Nerissa smiled. Gratiano, a trader—a small but well-to-do trader—had proposed to Nerissa, but the wedding was to be held later in the season.

“Fault not me, my friend. I know you liked Gratiano. He who came with the trader, Andre Bassanio Tito, last season to meet Father.” The two traders, like many, had come to the estate to discuss trade with Lord Belmont. Gratiano caught his eye on Nerissa.

“Alas, I cannot evade your scrutiny there, Portia. Gratiano had not left the county since then. He had stayed on to transact whatever trades he could do.” Nerissa lowered her face. “I had……”

“Met him? I know more of your meetings, my dear friend.” Portia smiled after several days of grieving. “I……”

“I know you knew. It was Andre Bassanio … he likes to be called Bassanio more. He told me so, and he also told you that. I knew that.” Nerissa cut in. “Your meetings with him are known to me.”

“You knew too much, Nerrissa.” Portia laughed. She was never to miss Bassanio, for he had remained there and was often seen discussing trade matters with Portia.

“Oh, God. How could we hide from each other? You know of my secrets, and I……”

“Not all, Nerissa. Not all. I do have other secrets with me.” Portia laughed. “And I……”

“Love Bassanio… I know.” Nerissa, in turn, laughs.

“Love? Unlikely. We are a distance apart from there.” Portia denies it, but the blush on her face was noticeable. Laughter eased the grief, but the reality was to catch up then.

“Prince of the County Palatine; a French lord, Monsieur Le Bon; a Scottish lord; and a young German, the Duke of Saxony's nephew.” The suitors appeared at the estate to select the caskets. They were accompanied by the curious and left-out suitors. “The others have declined their invites.”

“I know the Italian prince. He reared horses and talked only of his horse. He is an unadulterated dullard; he is unable to laugh at anything but neighs like his horse,” the trader from Tuscany said.

"Monsieur Le Bon" is a man who is a nomad. He has many lovers, and no one knows whom he will end up with that night. If she marries him, she might as well marry twenty husbands. Those are his friends with whom he comes home.” The trader from Paris added.

“The Scots; when he yodels, the ladies all clamp shut. He does not come in them but at them. He thinks everyone is a sponge for him."

“Hey, Executor. What if she refuses those three men?” One of the gathered asked.

“She will select the one who is best suited from the casket’s contents.” The executor replied. “She……”

“What if one of the caskets remained untaken?”

“That ……” The executor paused in his words and consulted the family of the Belmont. He then turned to the gathered. “If a casket is not selected, then… one of you may step forth.”

“Please be gentlemanly about it.” The executor added.

“Why not, ladies, like? I am not a gentleman.” A lady among the gathered called out.

“Oh, Sally. If you get selected, I will be glad to be your second wife.” One man called out, and laughter broke out.

“We shall proceed.” The executor called for the three caskets to be brought out. Each casket was carried by four men.

“Oh my God. Those caskets weighed more than my horse.” One of the gathered called out.

“Aye, Dineo. You got a small hose.” Sally called out. The other men all laughed. “I shall be first.” The prince stepped forth. “I claim the ……”

“I claim the gold.” The German Lord cut in.

“The hell you will.” The Moroccan prince said. “Hayawan (Brute translated).”

“Fick dich! (Not nice to translate here.)” The German cursed at the Moroccan.

“Putain!” The prince said to the German.

“Hey, I know that word. French, was it not?” The Scottish lord cut in. “Anyway, I want the gold too.”

“Gommy! (Idiot in Gaelic Scots).” The prince said to the Scots. “All of you are the same.”

The situation got out of control, and the executor had to calm things down. He told the suitors their choices were by the calls they had earlier made.

“I will not claim the lead casket.” The Scottish lord cursed. “I am out. It is below my honour to take the lead.”

“The lead casket is open to others.”

“I am not to take that. It may be just rocks inside.” Sally cried out. “I have a rock sleeping on my body nightly, snoring most times.”

“Turn over, Sally. I can be rock hard for you if I know I cannot see your face.” Another called out.

“Stuff it, Georgio. All you ever know is that hole.”

It was then Bassanio stepped up to the lead casket.

“I will take the lead casket.”

“The deed is done. The caskets will be opened in due time after I read the statement of the Lord.” The executor withdrew the sealed letter from his tunic. He broke the seal and read the contents inside.

"Gold: 'Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire'; the silver: 'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves'; and the last was lead: 'Who chooseth me must give and risk everything he has.'"

“Aye, Gold was the virgin. Silver was the one who got home nightly. The last lead was to sacrifice.” Sally cried out. “I have none left. So, Georgio. You can take a number there. I lost count of who had been there. Yours may still be golden.”

Those gathered there all laughed.

“The one who chose the caskets may now be told that the Lord had his final decision on which casket wins.” The executor looked to the three men.

“He who selects the lead is the suitable one. Lady Belmont, your suitor is the gentleman with the lead casket. The departed Lord says it here in the will.”

Gasps of surprise were heard, and soon the chamber cleared of the guests, including the disappointed lords.

 “You saw the mistress; I beheld the maid.” Bassanio heard his friend, Gratiano. He was elated to win. He made his choice out of desperation.

“It is Bassanio. He won the prize.” Nerissa laughed. “You got what you wanted. He, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving of a fair lady."

“I am fortunate. Bassanio is a good man.” Portia smiled. “I am glad to be his wife.”

Shylock heard of the sudden wealth of the trader named Bassanio. He invited the trader to his house. They discuss business while the ladies take off to the ball by the Montague.

“She looked devilish.” Antonio stared at the mother and daughter.

“That is my wife and daughter, Antonio.” Shylock reminded the trader. “As for your request for the three thousand, that is a lot of coins. That is truly the devil’s work there.”

“I hold the bill of lading here. My ship is on route.” Bassanio produced the bill. “It’s what I needed to pay for the warehouse and port charges.”

“I heard you are a rich man, Andre Bassanio. Your……” Shylock searched for the name in his mind while he studied the bill of lading.

“Portia, Portia Belmont. We are engaged, and the wedding is next season after Christmas. I am not after her wealth. I can make my own.” Bassanio said confidently. “I have two shipments coming in soon. The bill I showed you was for the first. The wares are unloading as we speak. My second shipment is in the process of loading in Spain. The bill will soon arrive.”

“I do not know you, Andre Bassanio. You are new to Genoa. I……”

“I can stand in as his surety for payment.” Antonio cut in. “I am good.”

“Your credentials are ……” Shylock was reluctant to accept the surety.

“I could get Lord Gencio Capulet to attest to that, but he is at Moldavia. Or was it Wallachia? I forgot.” Antonio looked at Shylock. “You do want to help us. I can swing in other shipments to you. And maybe even from Gencio. We are good friends.

“Lord Gencio Capulet does not need my loans.” Shylock looked at the other. “I think we……”

“Come now, Shylock.” Antonio glared at Shylock. “Gencio could bring downfall to your name.”

“I will not ……” Shylock was defiant then, but his words were cut off.

“What do you want to make this happen?” Antonio leaned forward towards Shylock.

“I want more unavoidable surety.”

“My life then.” Antonio smiled. “Surely my life is worth more than three thousand ducats.”

“I am not a mercenary. As you mentioned your life, I do not dare for that. How about an arm or leg?” Shylock laughed. It was the usual threat by mercenaries to intimidate the debtors.

“Ah…… How about a piece of my flesh?” Antonio offered.

“A piece of flesh? I will accept a pound, will do.” Shylock replied. It was agreed that in default, the delay will be paid by the pound of flesh.

“Are you mad?” Bassanio asked Antonio after they left the place.

“Not so.” Antonio smiled. “I can always take care of that. I have my faith in you. You just make sure the ships arrive.”

His faith was really in Lord Gencio Capulet to bail him out.

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