Duke.
What, is Anthonio here?

Anth.
Ready, so please your grace.

Duke.
I'm sorry for thee. Thou art come to answer
A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch,
Uncapable of pity, void and empty
From any dram of mercy.

Anth.
I have heard,
Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify
His rig'rous course; but since he stands obdurate,
And that no lawful means can carry me
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose
My patience to his fury; and am arm'd
To suffer, with a quietness of spirit,
The very tyranny and rage of his.

Duke.
Go one, and call the Jew into the court.

Sal.
He's ready at the door; he comes, my lord. Enter Shylock.

Duke.
Make room, and let him stand before our face.
Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so, too,
That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice,

To the last hour of act; and then, 'tis thought,
Thou'lt shew thy mercy and remorse more strange,
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty.
And, where thou now exact'st the penalty,
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
Thou wilt not only lose the forfeiture,
But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal;
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
That have of late so huddled on his back,
Enough to press a royal merchant down:
And pluck commiseration of his state,
From brassy bosoms, and rough hearts of flint,
From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtesy.
We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.* ^note

Shy.
I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose;
And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn
To have the due and forfeit of my bond.
If you deny it, let the danger light
Upon your charter, and your city's freedom!
You'll ask me why I rather chuse to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats? I'll not answer that;
But say, it is my humour? Is it answer'd?† ^note
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats,
To have it baned? What, are you answer'd, yet?
Some men there are love not a gaping pig;
Some, that are mad, if they behold a cat;
And others, when the bag-pipe sings i'th' nose,

Cannot contain their urine; for affection,* ^note
Masterless passion, sways it to the mood
Of what it likes or loaths. Now, for your answer.
As there is no firm reason to be render'd,
Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;
Why he, a harmless necessary cat;
Why he, a swollen bag-pipe! but of force
Must yield to such inevitable shame,
As to offend, himself being offended;
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
More than a lodg'd hate, and a certain loathing,
I bear Anthonio, that I follow thus
A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd?

Bass.
This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
T' excuse the current of thy cruelty.

Shy.
I am not bound to please thee with my answer?

Bass.
Do all men kill the thing they do not love?

Shy.
Hates any man the thing he would not kill?

Bass.
Ev'ry offence is not a hate, at first.

Shy.
What, would'st thou have a serpent sting thee twice?

Anth.
I pray you, think, you question with a Jew.
You may as well go stand upon the beach,
And bid the main flood 'bate his usual height.
You may as well use question with the wolf,
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb.
You may as well forbid the mountain pines
To wag their high tops, and to make no noise,
When they are fretted with the gusts of Heav'n.† ^note
You may as well do any thing most hard,
As seek to soften that, (than which, what's harder?)
His Jewish heart. Therefore, I do beseech you,
Make no more offers, use no further means;

But, with all brief and plain conveniency,
Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will.

Bass.
For thy three thousand ducats here is six.

Shy.
If ev'ry ducat in six thousand ducats,
Were in six parts, and ev'ry part a ducat,
I would not draw them, I would have my bond.

Duke.
How shalt thou hope for mercy, rend'ring none?

Shy.
What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong?
You have among you many a purchas'd slave,
Which, like your asses, and your dogs and mules,
You use in abject and in slavish part,
Because you bought them. Shall I say to you,
Let them be free, marry them to your heirs?
Why sweat they under burdens? Let their beds
Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates
Be season'd with such viands. You will answer,
The slaves are ours. So do I answer you:
The pound of flesh, which I demand of him,
Is dearly bought, 'tis mine, and I will have it.
If you deny me, fy upon your law!
There is no force in the decrees of Venice:
I stand for judgment; answer. Shall I have it?

Duke.
Upon my pow'r I may dismiss this court,
Unless Bellario, a learned doctor,
Whom I have sent for, to determine this,
Come here to-day.

Sal.
My lord, here stays, without,
A messenger, with letters from the doctor,
New come from Padua.

Duke.
Bring us the letters, call the messenger.

Bass.
Good cheer, Anthonio! What, man, courage yet;
The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all,
Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood.

Anth.
I am a tainted weather of the flock,
Meetest for death: the weakest kind of fruit
Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me.
You cannot better be employ'd, Bassanio,
Than to live still, and write mine epitaph.

Enter Nerissa, dress'd like a Lawyer's Clerk.

Duke.
Came you from Padua, from Bellario?

Ner.
From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace.

Bass.
Why dost thou whet thy knife, so earnestly?

Shy.
To cut the forfeit from that bankrupt, there.

Gra.
Can no pray'rs pierce thee?

Shy.
No, none that thou hast wit enough to make.

Gra.
O be thou damn'd, inexorable dog,
And for thy life let justice be accus'd!
Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith,
To hold opinion with Pythagoras,
That souls of animals infuse themselves
Into the trunks of men. Thy currish spirit
Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter,
Ev'n from the gallows did his fell soul fleet,
And, whil'st thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam,
Infus'd itself in thee: for thy desires
Are wolfish, bloody, starv'd, and ravenous.

Shy.
'Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond,
Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud.
Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall
To cureless ruin. I stand here for law.

Duke.
This letter from Bellario doth commend
A young and learned doctor to our court.
Where is he?

Ner.
He attendeth here, hard by,
To know your answer whether you'll admit him.

Duke.
With all my heart. Some three or four of you
Go give him courteous conduct to this place:
Mean time, the court shall hear Bellario's letter.

YOUR Grace shall understand, that, at the receipt of your letter, I am very sick: but at the instant that your messenger came, in loving visitation was with me a young doctor of Rome, his name is Balthasar; I acquainted him with the cause in controversy, between the Jew and Anthonio, the merchant. We turned o'er many books

together: he is furnished with my opinion, which, bartered with his own learning, (the greatness whereof I cannot enough commend) comes with him at my importunity, to fill up your grace's request, in my stead. I beseech you let his lack of years be no impediment, to let him lack a reverend estimation; for I never knew so young a body with so old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his commendation.

Duke.
You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes,
And here, I take it, is the doctor come.
Give me your hand. Come you from old Bellario?

Por.
I did, my lord.

Duke.
You're welcome: take your place.
Are you acquainted with the difference,
That holds this present question in the court?

Por.
I am inform'd thoroughly of the case.
Which is the merchant here? and which the Jew?

Duke.
Anthonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.

Por.
Is your name Shylock?

Shy.
Shylock is my name.

Por.
Of a strange nature is the suit you follow
Yet in such rule, that the Venetian law
Cannot impugn you, as you do proceed.
You stand within his danger, do you not? [To Anth.

Anth.
Ay, so he says.

Por.
Do you confess the bond?

Anth.
I do.

Por.
Then must the Jew be merciful.

Shy.
On what compulsion must I? Tell me that.

Por.
The quality of mercy is not strain'd;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heav'n,
Upon the place beneath. It is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
His scepter shews the force of temporal pow'r,

The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth fit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this scepter'd sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings;
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly pow'r doth then shew likest Heav'n's,
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Tho' justice be thy plea, consider this,
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy;
And that same pray'r doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much,
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;
Which, if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.

Shy.
My deeds upon my head! I crave the law,
The penalty and forfeit of my bond.

Por.
Is he not able to discharge the money?

Bass.
Yes, here I tender it for him in the court;
Yea, twice the sum; if that will not suffice,
I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er,
On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart.
If that will not suffice, it must appear
That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you,
Wrest once the law to your authority;
To do a great right, do a little wrong,
And curb this cruel devil of his will.

Por.
It must not be: there is no power in Venice,
Can alter a decree established.
'Twill be recorded for a precedent;
And many an error, by the same example,
Will rush into the state. It cannot be.

Shy.
A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel.
O wise young judge, how do I honour thee!

Por.
I pray you let me look upon the bond.

Shy.
Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is.

Por.
Shylock, there's thrice thy money offered thee.

Shy.
An oath, an oath—I have an oath in Heav'n.
Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?
No, not for Venice.

Por.
Why this bond is forfeit;

And lawfully by this the Jew may claim
A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off,
Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful,
Take thrice thy money, bid me tear the bond.

Shy.
When it is paid, according to the tenour.
It doth appear you are a worthy judge;
You know the law: your exposition
Hath been most sound. I charge you, by the law,
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
Proceed to judgment. By my soul I swear,
There is no power in the tongue of man,
To alter me. I stay here on my bond.

Anth.
Most heartily I do beseech the court
To give the judgment.

Por.
Why, then thus it is;
You must prepare your bosom for his knife.

Shy.
O noble judge! O excellent young man!

Por.
For the intent and purpose of the law,
Hath full relation to the penalty,
Which here appeareth due upon the bond.

Shy.
'Tis very true. O wise and upright judge,
How much more elder art thou than thy looks!

Por.
Therefore lay bare your bosom.

Shy.
Ay, his breast:
So says the bond, doth it not, noble judge?
Nearest his heart; those are the very words.* ^note

Por.
It is so. Are these scales, to weigh the flesh?

Shy.
I have them ready.

Por.
Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge,
To stop his wounds, lest he should bleed to death.

Shy.
It is so nominated in the bond?

Por.
It is not so express'd; but what of that?
'Twere good you do so much, for charity.

Shy.
I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond.

Por.
Come, merchant, have you any thing to say?

Anth.
But little: I am arm'd, and well prepar'd.
Give me your hand, Bassanio; fare you well!
Grieve not that I am fall'n to this for you:
For herein fortune shews herself more kind,
Than is her custom. It is still her use,
To let the wretched man out-live his wealth;
To view with hollow eye, and wrinkled brow,
An age of poverty: from which ling'ring penance
Of such misery doth she cut me off.
Commend me to your honourable wife;
Tell her the process of Anthonio's end;
Say, how I lov'd you; speak me fair in death:
And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge,
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
Repent not you that you shall lose your friend;
And he repents not, that he pays your debt;
For if the Jew do cut but deep enough,
I'll pay it instantly, with all my heart.

Bass.
Anthonio, I am married to a wife,
Which is as dear to me as life itself;
But life itself, my wife, and all the world,
Are not with me esteemed above thy life.

Por.
Your wife would give you little thanks for that,
If she were by to hear you make the offer.

Gra.
I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love;
I would she were in Heav'n, so she could
Intreat some pow'r to change this currish Jew.

Ner.
'Tis well you offer it behind her back;
The wish would make else an unquiet house.

Shy.
These be the christian husbands! I've a daughter;
Would any of the stock of Barrabbas
Had been her husband, rather than a christian! [Aside.
We trifle time; I pray thee, pursue sentence.

Por.
A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine,
The court awards it, and the law doth give it.

Shy.
Most rightful judge!

Por.
And you must cut this flesh from off his breast,
The law allows it, and the court awards it.

Shy.
Most learned judge! a sentence; come, prepare.

Por.
Tarry a little; there is something else;
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;
The words expressly are, a pound of flesh.
Then take thy bond, take thou the pound of flesh;
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.

Gra.
O upright judge? mark, Jew; O learned judge!

Shy.
Is that the law?

Por.
Thyself shalt see the act!
For as thou urgest justice, be assur'd,
Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st.

Gra.
O learned judge! mark, Jew, a learned judge!

Shy.
I take this offer, then, pay the bond thrice.
And let the christian go.

Bass.
Here is the money.

Por.
The Jew shall have all justice; soft! no haste;
He shall have nothing, but the penalty.

Gra.
O Jew! an upright judge! a learned judge!

Por.
Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh:
Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more,
But just a pound of flesh: if thou tak'st more,
Or less, than a just pound, be't but so much
As makes it light or heavy in the substance,
On the division of the twentieth part,
Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale turn
But in the estimation of a hair,
Thou dy'st, and all thy goods are confiscate.

Gra.
A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew!
Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip.

Por.
Why doth the Jew pause? take the forfeiture.

Shy.
Give me my principal, and let me go.

Bass.
I have it ready for thee; here it is.

Por.
He hath refus'd it in the open court;
He shall have merely justice, and his bond.

Gra.
A Daniel, still say I; a second Daniel!
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.

Shy.
Shall I not barely have my principal?

Por.
Thou shalt have nothing, but the forfeiture,
To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.

Shy.
Why then the devil give him good of it!
I'll stay no longer question.

Por.
Tarry, Jew;
The law hath yet another hold on you!
It is enacted in the laws of Venice,
If it be prov'd against an alien,
That by direct, or indirect, attempts,
He seeks the life of any citizen,
The party, 'gainst the which he doth contrive,
Shall seize on half his goods; the other half
Comes to the privy coffer of the state;
And the offender's life lies in the mercy,
Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice.
In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st.
For it appears, by manifest proceeding,
That indirectly, and directly too,
Thou hast contriv'd against the very life
Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd
The danger formerly by me rehears'd.
Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke.

Gra.
Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself;
And yet thy wealth, being forfeit to the state,
Thou hast not left the value of a cord;
Therefore thou must be hang'd at the state's charge.

Duke.
That thou may'st see the diff'rence of our spirit,
I pardon thee thy life, before thou ask it;
For half thy wealth, it is Anthonio's.
The other half comes to the general state,
Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.

Por.
Ay, for the state; not for Anthonio.

Shy.
Nay, take my life and all: pardon not that;
You take my house when you do take the prop,
That doth sustain my house; you take my life,
When you do take the means whereby I live.

Por.
What mercy can you tender him, Anthonio?

Gra.
A halter, gratis; nothing else, for heav'ns sake.

Anth.
So please my lord the duke, and all the court,
To quit the fine for one half of his goods,

I am content; so he will let me have
The other half in use, to render it,
Upon his death, unto the gentleman
That lately stole his daughter.
Two things provided more, that for this favour
He presently become a christian;
The other, that he do record a gift,
Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd,
Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.* ^note

Duke.
He shall do this, or else I do recant
The pardon that I late pronounced here.

Por.
Art thou contented, Jew? What dost thou say?

Shy.
I am content.

Por.
Clerk, draw a deed of gift.

Shy.
I pray you, give me leave to go from hence;
I am not well; send the deed after me,
And I will sign it.

Duke,
Get thee gone, but do it.

Gra.
In christ'ning thou shalt have two godfathers.
Had I been judge, thou should'st have had ten more,† ^note
To bring thee to the gallows, not the font. [Exit Shy.

Duke.
Sir, I intreat you home with me to dinner.

Por.
I humbly do desire your grace's pardon;
I must away, this night, to Padua,
And it is meet, I presently set forth.

Duke.
I am sorry that your leisure serves you not.
Anthonio, gratify this gentleman;
For, in my mind, you are much bound to him. [Exit Duke, and his Train.

Bass.
Most worthy gentleman! I and my friend
Have, by your wisdom, been this day acquitted,
Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof,
Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew,
We freely cope your courteous pains withal.

Ant.
And stand indebted, over and above,
In love and service to you, evermore.

Por.
He is well paid that is well satisfy'd;
And I, delivering you, am satisfy'd,
And therein do account myself well paid;
My mind was never yet more mercenary.
I pray you, know me, when we meet again;
I wish you well, and so I take my leave.

Bass.
Dear sir, of force I must attempt you further.
Take some remembrance of us, for a tribute,
Not as a fee: grant me two things, I pray you,
Not to deny me, and to pardon me.

Por.
You press me far, and therefore I will yield.
Give me your gloves, I'll wear 'em for your sake:
And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you.* ^note
Do not draw back your hand, I'll take no more;
And you in love shall not deny me this.

Bass.
This ring, good sir, alas, it is a trifle;
I will not shame myself to give you this.

Por.
I will have nothing else, but only this;
And now, methinks, I have a mind to it.

Bass.
There's more depends on this, than is the value,
The dearest ring in Venice will I give you;
And find it out by proclamation;
Only for this, I pray you, pardon me.

Por.
I see, sir, you are liberal in offers;
You taught me first to beg, and now, methinks,
You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd.

Bass.
Good, sir, this ring was giv'n me by my wife,
And when she put it on, she made me vow,
That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it.

Por.
That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts;
And if your wife be not a mad woman,
And know how well I have deserv'd the ring,
She would not hold out enmity for ever,
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you! [Exit, with Nerissa.

Anth.
My lord Bassanio, let him have the ring,

Let his deservings, and my love withal,
Be valu'd 'gainst your wife's commandment.

Bass.
Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him,
Give him the ring; and bring him, if thou can'st,
Unto Anthonio's house: away, make haste, [Exit Gra.
Come, you and I will thither, presently;
And in the morning early will we both
Fly toward Belmont; come, Anthonio. [Exeunt.

Next section