Author's note: Hi everyone, this is my first story ever on fanfiction. Just trying my best. Read and Review.

The Beginning of the End – Shylock's revenge

Scene 1 – Shylock's home

Thunder crashes as I enter my house and call for Jessica.

"Jessica! Jessica!" I call as I search. Water drips off me as I call, "Jessica!"

She is not here, I cannot find her! Where would she be, she would not wander, would she? Nothing is out of place, no possessions missing. Wait, two of my chests of ducats are missing! But not one other thing is in disarray. A thief would know not with such precision where my ducats were. If not a thief, then whom? Not Jessica? Perish the thought! But . . . then why is she absent. Perchance she really left of her own free choice. It is not possible! All doors were locked. No! The window that was ajar when I returned, and had been for some time, I think. She has left me! Jessica has left me! Why? Why? She can't have!

"No! No! No, no!" I sob as I slide to the floor.

"Jessica! No!"

I remain on that floor for many minutes. Grieving, questioning, wondering, until a thought strikes me, the Christian! The Christian boy she was mooning after! The cheek, the outrageousness, the nerve of it all! Words fail me as I struggle to express my anger, my overwhelming emotion. I will get her back! I will not stand for my daughter marrying a Christian! Oh the shame! I can feel its sting now.

"Bassanio! Antonio!" I exclaim as I suddenly connect the recent happenstances to Jessica leaving me this night. I will find them, stop them and make them pay! I will have the heart of Antonio, as he has taken mine! First, to stop them. They will use gondola or boat, of that I am sure. Who has the power to stop the boat of a Lord? Hmmm, think Shylock, you are not rich and respected for nothing. The Duke! The Duke can stop them! Quick! Quick! I must go, I have tarried too long in this place, they may already be on their way. Make haste! I must make haste to the Duke's!

Scene 2 – The Duke's residence

As I pace in the square outside the residence of the Duke, I can feel the eyes of his guards following me. I am unable to think of a way to get an audience with the Duke at this late hour, unless . . . I could make a nuisance of myself, make noise, rouse the neighbourhood and not leave until I am granted an audience.

"It is the beginnings of a scheme. Simple, it is true, but the simplest are often best," I mutter as I pace, seemingly without a purpose. "Maybe some choice Hebrew will help? No, they will think I have truly lost my mind then, we speak not our language in the hearing of gentiles."

My mind is made up, I decide, as I sharply pivot on my heel and march up to the guards at the door.

"I wish an urgent audience with the Duke. It is a pressing matter and as such cannot be delayed." I declare, my gaze daring them to question me.

"The Duke has retired and cannot be disturbed at this late hour," replied the guard stationed on the left.

"You will grant me audience with the Duke or I will raise the neighbourhood with my voice and you will have the displeasure of all," I said. I expected them to refuse me again but a surreptitious look passed between them as the one on the left turned to the doors and ordered, "Stay here, I will return."

As the door closed with a click behind him, I was left staring at the guard on the right, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable. He was rather youthful looking, I observed as he shifted nervously under my continued, appraising stare. He was saved from further scrutiny by the return of the other guard.

"The Duke grants you audience," he declared, his deep, melodious voice sounding displeased. Of course he would be displeased, I woke his precious Duke from what I'm sure was a pleasant slumber. As he leads me through the halls of what I can only name a palace, the overspenditure and wastefulness of Christians in general and Catholics in particular amazes me. We slow as we approach what I presume is the Duke's audience chamber and the guard signals me to stop as he announces me. I am then waved in as he leaves to return to his post.

"Well Jew, what is your name and what is so urgent that you threaten to wake half of Venice if I did not grant you an audience?" The Duke asked condescendingly. It is always condescending or disgust from these Christians; it becomes tiresome after a lifetime. That is why I will not tell the whole truth, he does not need to know it.

"Well?" he demands again impatiently.

"I am known as Shylock. My daughter has been taken by a Christian man I believe is called Lorenzo. He is in the employ of one Lord Bassanio and I have reason to believe that he is aiding in Lorenzo's escape with my daughter," I say in a neutral tone.

"Really, why do you believe that, and what is your proof, if any indeed exists?" asked the Duke, scepticism clear in his voice.

"Bassanio invited me to feast with him this past night. Upon my return I discovered not only was my daughter gone, but so was a large sum of ducats! You are the only one with the power to search the transport of a Lord, I wish you to have Bassanio's ship searched, if nothing is found, so be it, but, if by some chance of fate, something is discovered, I expect justice to be swift."

"An impressive speech by anyone's standards, Shylock. Very well, I will search Bassanio's ship, though I expect to discover nothing."

"Thank you, my Duke, that is all I ask," I said triumphantly. I have you now Antonio, you shall not escape me this time.