A/N: Its been an idea that roamed in my brain for a while, until I finally got off my butt to write it. This was mostly based on after the end in the movie version with Al Pacino. It's said that no one is certain of they like or dislike Shylock, but in my case I ended up pitying him. If you don't understand why, try to think it over next time you see the play or watch the movie.

The bigger a fool

By KS Claw

Shylock sat alone. It was all he did these days.. Once in a while, out of old habit, he would find himself speaking in hebrew in prayer to God, but would stop not long after. After all, he would be persecuted for blasphemy if someone overheard him.. But then, what did it matter? He had already lost so much...

He rarely ate these days.. All food tasted dry, and any wine or water sour on his tongue, and he found that he had less and less of an appetite. And that was despite the fact, that he had already been rather thin, it was clear to many other eyes that his clothes where looking far too big for his thin frame. He had considered going for a walk.. but no. He knew he would only risk getting distateful glares from the rabbis' at the Moské and he just couldn't take that now...

He hadn't heard the door open, nor the light footsteps. He could have sworn he had locked the door, so the next time he stood up from his chair and turned, he found himself face to face with a face he had no seen in a long time. The face of a young woman, clad in the finest dress that the wife of a nobleman could wish for. The cross around her neck confirmed her christianity, and Shylock felt his face darken in a frown as he gave her a cold glare. The young woman, who before had worn a bright smile, quickly turned confused, then unhappy as she found it was clear that the old man did not find her welcome.

"Hello father.." She finally said, and the older man perked a brow.

"'Father?'" He said. "What strange woman comes to my house and claims me as her sire?" He turned away, not bothering to look at her. "For the only daughter I had is dead to me."

"Father, please!" Jessica exclaimed. "I came to make amends with you.."

"Nothing can ever be mended!" He cut her off. "Not when it comes to what that ungrateful child did.. Where she not long gone, her mother would have died of shame!"

An angry blush came to her cheeks, as she fought to keep her tears back. "You stubborn old fool!!" She finally cried. "I reach out my hand in offer of peace, and you cut it off! Do you not understand, that what I did, I did out of love? All you ever cared about was money and your faith!"

Her words made Shylock turn towards her, and Jessica was suddenly shocked. She could not recall in any way, that her father had ever... looked so fragile. So old and tired, perhaps as brittle as a withered leaf, that would crumble should you clench it in your fist. She had always seen him as a stern man, strong and powerful in many ways, but lately she had only seen him as a hindrance when it came to her lover, then husband, Lorenzo.

"Love.." The old man said slowly "Yes...Out of love to man, who was not a jew. But of the people who hated Jews so. Who spat on us, called us names, then dared to call us friend. And then, she stole my heart, the night when she ran with him. Not just my riches.. and when I wished to reclaim it, she broke it." he turned away once more, a bitter expression on his features.

"And when I sought justice, they took my daughter that I had loved.. the money that had been stolen... and my faith. My faith, which was the only thing I had left! And now I can not even seek comfort in that."

Jessica felt numb. She knew, that when she had taken her fathers money to support herself as well as Lorenzo, she had figured that it wouldn't trouble her father. He could earn more if needed be.. In truth, she had only seen him as a hindrance, and even further when he had brought Antonio to court, where a twist of fate had not only ensured Antonio's survival, but also that she and Lorenzo would inherit when her father would pass away. And they had made Shylock convert, a thing which Jessica had not seen as a crime, for to her it had meant they could be seen together in public and not feel shamed about one another.. It had been the reason she had come here. To make amends, to make him see, understand... But now...

"Father.." She said softly, "I did not know that it caused you such pain..."

"You would not know." Shylock replied. "For you are not my daughter."

The words stung, bringing hot tears to her eyes, as she looked at Shylock, hoping for him to say something else. Anything.. but he remained silent. Finally, she yielded.

"My..My apologies, milord..." She whispered. "I will not disturb you again."

And with that, she left him. Out the door, and out into the street, where she passed a small group of jews, wearing their wellknown red caps. They moved around her in a great arch, giving her clear distrustful looks, as if they where afraid she would strike at them... But Jessica did not see, did not hear. She ran. And when she reached her home, she fell into the arms of her Lorenzo, who tried to comfort her the best he could, but found it difficult to.

"He would not even look at me." She told him at one point. "I never realized.. I've been such a fool.. I did not pay heed that I hurt him so." Lorenzo shushed her gently and held her close. "Try to give him time.." He said softly. "Perhaps he will come around."

The next day however, they where given the news. In the night, Shylock had passed away. They had found him, sitting at the very table that Jessica had seen him by, slumped in his chair with his eyes blindly staring into nothing. There had been no poison, no murder, no indication that anyone had caused his death. A doctor had taken a look, and had finally declared, that it had simply been the lack of food. "The man." He told Jessica and Lorenzo. "Was sick! You could count his ribs when we opened his robes, and there was no food in his stomach at all. Such lack of nourishment is not healthy."

Jessica however, was not convinced. The night after the funeral, she sat alone in the bedchamber she shared with her husband. When Lorenzo came to find her, he found that she had been crying.. Perhaps even more than she had at the funeral.

"It was not starvation or poison or murder." She told him softly. "We murdered him..."

"We!?" Lorenzo inquired. "That's absurd! How could we have.."

"With force. With foolishness. With words." she said, closing her eyes.

"All he had left..after we eloped... All he had left was his faith.. after we took away his money, and his child.. and we didn't pay heed when he sought justice... I remember." She looked to her husband, and he saw such grief in her eyes, such as he never had before. "To all the people in the court, he was just a jew.. but to me, he was my father.. and all I could think of, when he stood there in court was: "Such a fool! Can't he see that we know better? That joining would be better than fighting?"...Only when I went to see him.. to make amends... did I see the truth." She sobbed, then let out a bitter laugh. "The fool was not he. The bigger a fool was me!"

Lorenzo said nothing. He only sat down next to her, gently resting an arm around her. And when she began to weep, he held her close, letting her cry, letting her mourn, until she had no more tears.

END